#now I can't get over the thought that maybe I lack iron instead of having an actual depression

[nei-ning]

Pharmacy worker, earlier today, also recommended me female doctor's blog. She writes a lot about the lack of iron in woman's blood / body. I've been reading the said blog now a bit, finally coming on symptoms (lack of iron). And guys, holy shit!

Tired, out of strength *

Dizziness / fainting *

Cold fingers and toes *

Muscles get tired, weaker recovery *

Restless feet *

Feeling of lacking air and increased heartbeat *

Difficulties to find words, stutter *

Wounds at the edges of your mouth, stinging on tongue

Stinging on feet

Hands and legs becoming numb

Bleeding and easily bruising *

Hair lost *

Weaker immunity system

Flaking nails *

Dry skin and itching *

Pale skin *

Trembling

"Brain fog" *

Behavioral disorders

Dryness of the eyes

Headache *

Sleep disorders *

Depression, Anxiety *

PICA symptom (the need to eat something which is not made to be eaten) I got 16 out of 24! To be honest, I wouldn't be surprised if I lacked iron. After all in my family we never ate anything else than potatoes, wheat and maybe some sausages. In my adulthood, I'm not eating much better... Blood test in next month will tell me more.

[teddybeartoji]

knight!shoko and witch!reader................................ bleeding and hurt, she stumbles upon a hut in the woods in the middle of the night after a big battle. she knocks on the door but nothing, she tries to knock again but she just doesn't have the strength – her armor is heavy and her limbs numb, she can't even stand up properly. slumping against the wooden door, her knees meet the cold ground below her feet.

she can feel the blood. trickling. seeping through her garments with every breath she takes. somewhere underneath her cuirass, somewhere underneath her helm. it's warm. it's hers.

she doesn't remember closing her eyes nor does she remember stepping inside the little house. but she's here now.

sat on a little chair before of a fireplace, she's almost completely bare with only her undergarments on. no steel, no iron. her eyes widen as panic runs through her veins, but even the slightest move makes her wince in pain. she hisses under her breath, her hand laid just below her ribs from where the sting seems to spring from. but when she looks down at the wound, it's only a bruise.

she eyes her body but finds no scratches and no cuts. splotches of blue and purple blossom all over her but she knows those couldn't be the only reminders of the fight. is she really to believe she lost consciousness just from a few contusions?

she wouldn't.

so from where did the blood come? and where did it go? where is her armor and where is her sword?

shoko scans the room with her dark eyes and spots her blade as it winks at her under the light of the flame. but it's out of reach. her whole body hurts, all the way from her toes to her fingers, and she doesn't understand. her mind can't wrap around her own being but the weapon is the only thing she's certain of, so she needs to get it. she needs to hold it. she needs to defend herself—

there's a hand on her shoulder.

a shadow stands in the corner of her eye, quiet, as if its now even real. maybe it isn't. maybe she's truly losing her mind.

maybe she's dead.

maybe this is her hell.

"are you feeling better now, my little knight?"

or maybe this is her heaven instead.

she cranes her neck to meet the voice. slow, she's slow – inching up and up and up until she's met with a smile. the light of the fireplace flickers on the person's face, the flames dancing on their lips and shoko feels the need to swallow the lump that's settled in her throat.

a little more up to find the eyes and she regrets her curiosity in an instant. shame oozes from her skin when her first thoughts are not of saying 'thank you' but of something filthier instead. the need to slap herself for the lack of manners almost makes her twitch in her spot but she can't seem to tear her gaze from yours. bewitched.

you're no good.

she can tell.

but when your fingers card through her hair and then move down to trace over her jawline with your sharp nails, she knows it doesn't matter. when you kneel down beside her while gazing up at her, she knows it doesn't matter. when you brush over the mole below her eye, she knows it doesn't matter.

"where am i?"

"aren't you going to thank me, little knight?"

shoko hums to herself. this feels like a trap. the smile on your face has yet to falter, your honeyed tone reeling her in alongside your warm touch. you let your hand trail down from her jaw to her neck while keeping your eyes on hers.

you can feel her pulse under your fingertips and it makes your grin widen even further.

"thank.. you."

you don't mind the uncertainty in her tone, you're not surprised by it. but her obedience does fill you with excitement. oh, how you love knights and their sickening desire to be good. this is where the fun lies.

"you are very welcome, love." moving downward, your palm now rests above her heart. "you must be so tired, hm?"

your hand moves lower.

"and hungry too, i'm sure..."

her ribs. her stomach.

shoko's eye twitches.

you bite down on your lip and shoko breaks. he breaks the connection as she zones on in how your teeth sink into the soft flesh. she feels as if she's a dog on a leash, her mouth frothing at the sight of fresh meat. she wants to snarl at you, to get a taste. it's weird because this isn't how she is – she's not some untamed beast, she couldn't be more far from it. she domesticated. she knows how to behave.

but perhaps she only thinks she is. perhaps you're just trying to set her free.

shoko's breath hitches when you lean forward and press your lips to the bruise that's sprouting from below her skin. it burns as it spreads all over. the kiss. her cheeks turn pink and her body trembles – she doesn't feel like she's in control of her own body anymore. her fingers ball up into fists by her side because she doesn't know what they'll do if she just lets them be. she doesn't know you and she's now starting to realize that she might not know herself either.

the pain disappears as pleasure takes over, and shoko feels awfully weak. but she makes no effort to push you away. you're kissing it better, aren't you? she's been taught to be grateful, so she'll let you help her. it's only right... right?

hands on her sides, you lift your gaze and shoko can't help but feel the froth in her mouth again. you look mean and sweet at the same time, you look like a saviour and a devil in one.

"say 'thank you', my little knight."

your grin is something out of this world. it reminds her of a fox that's peering from the dark shadows, eyeing the chickens its about to devour. so is shoko the chicken or is she the dog? is she about to get eaten or will she be the one that's eating? she's at your mercy and she can't even bring herself to try and deny the fact.

it's a whisper.

"thank you..."

it's wanting.

you've got her now, there's no going back. she's offering herself to you without even really realizing it and you love it.

she loves it.

[zoropookie]

WHAT YOU WON'T DO FOR LOVE (WYWDFL) — SIX

YOU couldn't be having a worse halloween night. choose your fate with your fellow readers and see if it gets better!

chapter five — chapter seven

soulmate!wanderer x gn!reader

You've had many hangovers. You've fell in the bathtub once after your nightly trip in the dark, or maybe more than once? Either way, you've hit your head enough that your consciousness was a concern. You were definitely lacking braincells...

And somehow, none of those moments ever compared to how you felt right now. Prying your eyes open, the throbbing was directed at the intricate grooves of your brain. Every time you tried to twist over to a better angle, your forehead touched something cold, and it sent shivers down your spine.

You couldn't see anything, not even a light that could present tiself as a crack. Laying there on your back helplessly, trying to recollect your steps before. As your brain wandered, with little reaction you mustered, you gasped once you were struck with your last moments.

'Imagine pulling a cheap ass shot like that and still losing', pushed to the front in particular. Your eyes dulled, mute rage in the void.

Whatever, loser. What a bold thing to say to someone who's running for their life from you, it's almost as if you're a threat to society.

What did he even do with you? Lifting your hands hesitantly to confirm your suspicions, your wrists were stopped by something hard and the clanking sound of you driving them onto the top making a thick thudding. Your wrists were tied together, alongside with your entire body, struggling to find breath with the rope hugging your ribs.

Your breath caught in your throat, suffocating by the second, your entire body moving in the rhythm of the car. At first you thought you were inside of a really prickly casket, but then as you thought about the acceleration and the subtle vibrations on your back, you squinted.

You were in his trunk, weren't you.

You reached out again, your joined hands reached out again to the top as you brushed your hands against the wired fabric, confirming your assumptions. You exhaled largely, hands falling limp back onto your torso, closing your eyes again to no avail.

Out of everything that you could have wished right now, you could have settled with watching Gossip Girl on your small television with the risk of getting evicted the next day. You could have asked Yoimiya or Itto for money to keep you afloat and be forever indebted to them, you could seduce your landlord, in a sense. You could have done anything right now, and been cozy. Not content, but cozy.

You just shouldn't have been nosy, maybe. Though, there's something ironic about everything you've read about in those niche Twilight fanfictions coming to life now. Just with twelve times the fear those people had getting napped by the vampires.

You moved your shoulders to reach for the rest of the trunk to find something you could get your hands on, but instead of that, you were met with something soft and cold instead. Gripping it, the texture felt stretchy in your hands, fluid and movable. You moved your hands further up, and immediately drew your hands away when you felt something wet.

The smell of copper overwhelmed your senses once your fingers were coated in what smelled like old pennies, hanging heavy around you.

Cringing, your fingers curled. "Oh my god," You whispered to yourself in a shaky tone, breath lapsing as you hit the back of your head against the trunk. You pushed yourself to the furthest point, and cried. "You fucking freak! I can't even be in here in peace?!"

The feeling of the other person was burnt into your head, his skin still soft and the bloodied clothing of his torso, the subtle pierced skin of his abdomen. Squeezing your eyes shut as you felt them sting with uncladded weeping. You were about to have a panic attack, but on the bright side, the fact that your only company was a newly made corpse was pretty funny.

Funny enough to make you hysterical, at least. You weren't interested in spending your last moments being a little bitch about it, at least, and you immediately started brainstorming in tears about how you were going to get out of here. Or call for help.

taglist is open as of ch.5!

[normal-internet-user]

Hii! How are you?

I was hoping you could do a one shot or hcs for a platonic/sibling PJO thing with Percy. I was thinking this kid shows up at camp-half-blood (their age being like 11-13) and being like a carbon copy of Percy and everyone notices except for him. They become pretty close and during a capture the flag game the Reader gets claimed by Poseidon, and Percy is just in shock like: 😲 holy moly

I think it would be really cute and I love big bro Percy

The reader is gender neutral

This is completely /nf and feel free to delete it if you don't want to! Thank you so much! Remember to drink water and take care of yourself!

-Axel <3

Ahhh this is actually such a cute IDEA-

Percy With a Child Of Poseidon Reader...

When you showed up to camp, no one really thought much of it.

The Titan war was over, demi-gods were showing up left and right, getting claimed along the way.

The thing that was weird was your lack of the latter.

Weeks after you arrived you were still unclaimed, with no change in sight.

It frustrated Percy because the gods had literally JUST promised not to leave any kids unclaimed.

As a result, he decided to spend time with you, just because he noticed you were feeling slightly put out at your lack of a godly parent.

Percy seemed to be the only one who hadn't noticed that the two of you next to each other was like looking back and forth between a mirror of features.

Everyone else did though.

Annabeth really did try to just- nudge him in the direction that MAYBE POSSIBLY-

But no, Percy was as oblivious as a blind cat after you moved the furniture.

Honestly he liked hanging out with you.

It made him feel good to know he was keeping you occupied instead of thinking about not being claimed.

He felt like an older brother ironically enough.

He had you sit with him during meals, and during activities he was with the Hermes cabin most of the time to help you.

Your very first capture the flag was exciting for him,

Him helping you put on your armor before plopping am oversized helmet on your head was like a mother watching their watching their child ride a bike for the first time.

He was so proud!

Sure you tripped over yourself and fell on your face, but that's okay! Everyone stumbles sometimes!

You're doing great!

Honestly, it was his fault for not helping you tie your shoes.

It was safe to say, the two of you had sufficiently bonded.

Which must have been the reason Poseidon decided to claim you now of all times.

He must really like capture the flag if that's how he claimed both his kids.

Percy was floored, and incredibly confused.

Everyone else was more or less like, "yeah saw that one coming." and you were trying to look up at the floating trident over your head through your helmet.

Percy feeling a whirlwind of emotions.

Confusion, excitment, slight frustration- but mostly excitement.

He was confused as to how as a child of Poseidon you'd managed to stay alive this long.

Unless your mortal parent had also kept a Gabe around to hide your demigod smell.

The thought made him wince.

He was practically vibrating when he showed you around Cabin 3.

You'd seen it before, sure, but now it was your cabin as much as his.

He wouldn't be sleeping alone anymore and he was exstatic about it.

And he can't wait to introduce you to Tyson too.

And his mom, oh she's gonna love you.

Especially if your mortal parent isn't in the picture either by choice or tradgedy.

Percy was gonna be the best big brother ever, it was his job to protect you now, so he would.

Ta-da! This is legit, the first thing I have posted in FOREVER holy shit, it felt SO good to write this out, like-

Anyway, all done! Here you go, I wanted to keep going but I figured it was long enough lol

[fabricated-misslieness]

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: neteyam x olo'eyktan metkayina male reader

ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: There's a bit of time before your ceremony—you take advantage of it.

ʀᴇ𝐐: no ~ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 1370 ~ neteyam & reader are in their late 20's

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: swearing

ᴍᴀʏʙ'ꜱ ɴᴏᴛᴇ: i have to write one of these sometime

☾⋆☆⋆☽

There was a buffer of time before the ceremony—your ceremony. You didn't exactly know what caused it, be it the current Tsahìk still getting prepared, or the Tsakarem or current Olo'eyktan, or perhaps even the venue. And if it was the reason, you thought it rather peculiar, because your family weren't ones to take long in little things such as preparation.

Whatever the case, you took advantage of it.

Neteyam took you in. He gazed upon your bare skin, lacking all jewelry and ornaments, even your Iknimaya band, knife and sheath. Though the sight was one to behold, a small panic settled in. "Should you not be getting prepared?" He rushed over.

You only chuckle at his concern, "If it worries you so, we can go back to my preparation pod. However, I must take the moment to speak with you."

"Why is that?" He takes the offer silently, leading you along back to your pod.

"There's a lot in my mind. It runs like those dire horses you tell me about." You give a small laugh, "And..."

"And?" He asks impatiently.

Though you had sought him out, you don't quite have the courage to tell him what you wanted to. "...my family isn't ready yet. That's what I think, anyway."

He huffs, "Surely it won't be long."

"However much time it takes, I'll spend it with you."

It was a simple sentiment, but nice either way. Spending time with your best friend, right before the biggest ceremony of your life—maybe second to your mate ceremony, where you showed off your beloved that you would spend your every moment with; it was something that usually happened before the Olo'eyktan crowning, but you hadn't found the one yet.

Once you settle down, relaxed atop the only chair in your pod, Neteyam can't help but worry. You were the one to become Olo'eyktan, yet you remained calm. He, on the other hand, paces anxiously.

"Are you worried?"

Instead of answering, he stops before you and asks, "Why are you bare?" You were practically naked, stripped from your usual ornaments and garments. It was a sight to drink in, but he had to find an excuse for his staring.

"My loved ones must paint my skin before the ceremony. They all learned a different technique to the painting. Their marks will signify their shared love for me."

He nods, slowly, "Your family?"

You give half a shrug that doesn't quite answer his question, "My family, sure."

"Okay, well, yes, I'm worried." Neteyam takes a deep breath, revisiting the breathing techniques you'd taught him years ago, the very ones he didn't have to think about doing anymore. Right now, they slip from his mind. "Of course I am, you're about to become Olo'eyktan."

"I am."

"And you're going to—how are you so calm right now?" His hands remain stiff in his hair, mid run through.

"It's what I've been trained for all my life." You say simply, "I knew this day would come and I'm, well, prepared for it."

He lets out a small laugh. "I was to be Olo'eyktan once." He thinks it ironic. "I was trained for it too. My people looked up to me. That pressure weighed heavy on my shoulders. How does it evade yours?"

"In truth, I don't know, Neteyam." You beckon him to sit next to you. Mindlessly, he does. "Perhaps it is that I have more, we'll say, nerve-wracking things on my mind right now."

Right. You had told him that your mind was running like a dire horse, though the word should be galloping. "Like what?"

You can't really say it. As you stare into his pretty eyes, the small cluster of algae that was your courage shrunk like it was drying.

Neteyam fills in your silence with his own words. "What could possibly be more nerve-wracking than becoming Olo'eyktan? Won't it be hard to live up to your father's name, his legacy? Being the leader of the archipelago and its many islands, all under the Metkayina tribe?" He shakes his head, thinking of many more things. "More nerve-wracking than–?"

"You're beautiful."

It was a passing thought, one that popped up in your head as you watched him speak. You didn't mean to blurt it out at all, only realizing after he points it out with his shock.

His lips press into a thin line, that expression of his you'd come to be familiar with. For a moment you think only bad could come of it, but instead he looks away, his expression turning bashful. "I should be the one saying that." He mumbles, his mouth opening far too little.

Your heart flutters. You scoot a little closer, bringing a hand to his cheek so that you may turn his once attentive gaze towards you once more. "Why is that?"

"Well, it's your day." Though you had turned his head towards you, his eyes still avoid your face. "Your ceremony, your new title, your new tattoos, your new songcord bead."

He closes his eyes, shaking his head with his words, "What even is there to call beautiful about me?"

"I don't know."

He rolls his eyes, but does not roll his head with them, too fearful of losing your touch.

"Sorry, I mean," You snicker, looking away to gather your thoughts. Neteyam takes the opportunity to stare at you. You're beautiful this way, beautiful any way, beautiful all ways. "If I had to choose one thing..."

You turn back to him, suddenly, and he doesn't tear his eyes away. "Everything."

"That isn't one thing." Because he can't tear his eyes away.

"Then I choose all of it." Neteyam brings a hand to hold onto yours. "Your smile, your hair, your eyes, your laughter; your immense need to care. All of you that I see."

The way his face lights up, it's gradual, piece by piece, but it doesn't take long. It starts at his ears perking up, then his smile widening, his cheeks raising with his lips, and his eyes creasing at the corners. His smile doesn't grow into a grin, however, and it doesn't take long for the entirety of his face to turn sheepish. He buries his head into his hands and laughs a small little laugh. His legs, both, kick restlessly.

He says something in English you don't quite know. Even in all your years together, he hadn't taught you the word. "I'm so fucking childish."

"What does that mean?" You ask, "Fu–?"

"Don't say that word." He warns, suddenly coming out his blue-skinned, handmade shell. "It's not exactly a good one."

"Okay."

"Is what you mean–" He shakes his head at himself, closing his eyes. How could he be so doubtful? He really wasn't sure of it, your feelings. He wanted to be sure. "That you... like me?"

"Yes," You bring both his hands in yours, "I... want you to be my mate."

"But I'm..." He stares down at his hands. Still dark blue. "and you're Olo–you're going to be Olo'eyktan."

You were always kind, always responsible, always aware of your future role. Because of this, your words were always premeditated. You couldn't tarnish your reputation in the clan. But right now, you don't see the need for it. "What do I care for it?"

Neteyam laughs at your brashness.

"Nga yawne lu oer. That is all that I care for. Though, for many years, I battled with that." You admit, "It is why I haven't told you of them, of my feelings for you. I should've told you much sooner."

"I'll say, your crowning day was probably not the best day," He declares with a laugh, "I should've told you as well."

"Well, we have only but the present."

He curses at how easy it is for you to be smooth. "Fu–" He smothers the curse against your neck, instead of into his hands again. He wraps his long arms around you, securing your larger body in his embrace. You return the hug much more gently.

"Will you accept my proposal? Be my mate? Because I'd like to invite you to paint me for the ceremony, and that is the job of a loved one."

Oh, for Eywa!

[mermmarie]

There's also a now-deleted post that inspired me to make my own small series on, erm, how the bay boys would hold your hand in bed(as all couples do!!!! Sfw handholding) and idk if it sounds fucking cringe but instead of some grey yn hands I am making them poc bc of you(I remember ur OCs? It's so long ago I forgor- and how you've mentioned not enough poc stuff in tmnt. I mean I likely would've done it regardless, I have like 3 white OCs out of 40, but wanted you to know it's with you in mind)

Bonnie is my only oc for the Bayverse (and Rise). Although I think you might be confusing the inserts in this post as my ocs? Or possibly Aida who is @/seafoamtaffy's oc.

Regardless!

You bring up something I've wanted to talk about for ages but have been reluctant to actually discuss because... well...

I was afraid of being stereotyped as the 'over dramatic black woman' just because I'm black and speaking out about black/poc matters.

But fuck it. Lets finally get into it.

I would love it if you made brown/colored Y/N's or inserts in your post because the representation is lacking. Specially in the TMNT fandom which is somewhat ironic because I think a lot would agree that the turtles take a lot from, or have adopted a decent amount of black/poc culture.

I get the whole point of Y/N's, readers, and inserts is quite literally within the names. It's supposed to be whoever is consuming the media right? But... There is just... something so inherently white about how it's usually done.

I don't know if non-poc see it like I do. Probably not. But even when I come across the grey colored y/n drawings I immediately interpret them as white.

Would it exclude a majority of fans if you made your y/n's, inserts, readers brown or poc? Yeah. Welcome to our world. We have to suspend our disbelief nearly all the time when it comes to stuff like this.

But you don't how much it means to us when we're actually represented in our favorite media.

Ultimately I can't force anyone to do anything about it. But maybe voicing my thoughts about this will make others more considerate. Who knows?

Thanks for thinking of me. 🤎

[theerurishipper]

Hi~ Hope you have a lovely day. I want to get your opinions on my rant lol and ask.

Marinette is such a disappointment of a lead female character in a western magical girl cartoon. She isn't a good leader and all her team consist of yes men and women and sidekick Chat Noir where her real partner Alya is standing over to the side. I liked her in the first two season and maybe some in s3 but the s4 and onward just got to me ngl. It's her world and we're all just living in it. Miraculous is so weird when it comes to team dynamics because I get she's guardian but I really wished it were someone else and not her because she chooses people she already get along great with. It fun for team dynamics to add be different and broader.

The whole she's just 14 the fandom spouts only goes so far how many messes do you do until you realise you need to own up to them even at that age when you should know better on your conduct ?

I get it hard to communicate but onwards I always thought the bigger of the two in the conflict was her because of her secrecy and her controlling tendencies. I disliked it so much in the ephemeral episode and her betraying her partner disgusted me. Sorry to those who like or defend her character this much but I can't stan or like a character that does this much crap to a friend let alone a love interest and then gloss over or minimize it and not be called out for it. Like, are people standards that low they think she's a good leader or a good proper representation on feminism when this show reeks of misogyny and misandry. She's the ultimatum voice for Astruc.

A communication issue with her Chat was fine a long time ago but now in s5 she crossed it hell nah how do people still support a ship with her knowing she followed Hawkmoth command for Adrien. I literally can't anymore with this show. Every guy she likes gotta be so 100 percent in effort and like in the Shadybug special him always comforting her makes me so jaded whenever she cries what about a change in dynamics had we ever seen her comfort him in turn how are people invested in this ship? Like that time in the bench and she just thought of ways to woo or give presents instead of just comforting him is so sad to watch.

She really followed in Master Fu steps. The bar is in hell and she crossed it in the finale. There is no excuse no handwaving it away and i know in my heart they gonna minimize it for Adrien own good. Everything is for his own good huh? What good is it rooting for a ship that just reeks of pity points. Like, she was never my favorite but who knew 8 years ago she'd pull a stunt like this and people bending over and doing mental gymnastics to rationalise this insanity. She really is a good foil to Gabriel ironically to bad she has no sway in this family drama we call the Agreste.

I know she has good intentions and it's not wrong for her to wish to save her prince but like thats all that is intention. Her actions are also important and the effects she's done is so bad that if she weren't the Main character and we haven't spent the chunk of the majority in her pov alone she'd be disliked.

I feel like compared to other respective series Winx Club s1-3 Bloom, Danny Phantom, Ben 10, Totally Spies they have it much more harder and so many more all show the consequences of your actions and how you do them right and they're her age. I feel like whenever someone bring up consequences it's like people in this particular fandom think we do it to punish Marinette but no I just never ever saw it properly done in this show because she's very coddled in the narrative. I don't see other MC as coddled as her before in a show where when they MESS UP it's actually integral and important.

Rant over.

You encapsulated all my thoughts perfectly, anon. I've said so many times before that I loved Marinette from Season 1-3 and even during Season 4 as it aired. What made me fall out of love with her character post Season 4 was the utter lack of acknowledgement of her actions and the insistence in portraying her as in the right at all times. Like you said, it's not just your intentions that matter. Your actions and the effects that they have on the people around you also matter. The writers don't seem to understand this, and it hits Marinette's character worst of all. She had so much potential to be such a great character, which is why I feel so sad seeing just how badly the writing failed her. Marinette deserved better.

Thank you for your ask!

[jahayla-parker]

Request: Hey so I was wonder if you could write a story with either kaz brekker × ADHD reader or freddy Carter × ADHD reader where the reader is struggling and ends up with haveing breakdown and is in tears with the fact that they can't stay focused and everything is slipping into a mess and they are struggling and they just comfort the reader. haven't been feeling very well lately and begin feeling overwhelmed and I love your work

Over It All : Kaz Brekker x Reader

@alex-kazbrekkersimp this is the last one I’ll be tagging you in unless you mention wanting to be added to one of (or multiple) my tag lists 💜 same note as on the last/Freddy one: Hi! So sorry for just getting to this! Ironically enough, I was experiencing this myself over the last few months. I hope you're feeling better! I did both characters/people, but I broke it up. In this one you'll find Kaz’s version.

Note: Thank you to @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r for helping me edit this!

Description: 3.8k wc, reader struggles with her ADHD to the point of breaking into tears, prompting Kaz to find a way to come to her aid. Hurt-comfort, angst-fluff

Warnings: SOC content (and applicable warnings), ADHD symptoms and experiences discussed, mention of crying and sadness, negative thoughts of self, some angst but fluffy ending/comfort

Y/n hid behind the empty box of spirits that Kaz had imported for the Crow Club. The bottles had already been removed and stored in their appropriate places. However, it seemed someone forgot to dispose of the now-empty crate. Y/n was beyond grateful for that oversight at this moment. 

She’d been trying to hide from Kaz all evening. Normally she’d be able to be found in his office after dinner had been served. It had started as a means of bringing him food that she’d then have to all-but force him to eat; however, it soon turned into a nightly ritual in which the now-couple would either visit briefly or silently complete more work/hobbies.

Tonight was different. She didn’t want to go to his office. Y/n knew Kaz would be able to pick up on her negative energy. And for once, she didn’t want to talk about it. After all, she wasn’t sure how to explain herself to anyone. 

She knew she couldn’t go to her room. That would be the first place Kaz would likely check for her after noticing her absence. She could go somewhere outside of the Slat or Crow’s Club entirely, but she didn’t want Kaz to worry either. So instead Y/n chose to stay in the back part of the Crow Club, hidden behind the empty wooden crate. 

She wasn’t sure what her plan was, Y/n doubted she could outlast Kaz’s insomnia, but perhaps she could outlast his interest tonight. Maybe if she hid long enough, he’d grow tired of trying to find her (or wouldn’t risk the others being clued into the reason behind such behavior). At which point she could return to her room for some much needed sleep. 

Y/n felt guilty for hiding from him. He hadn’t been the one to do anything wrong in this instance. Instead, it was her that failed to accomplish the tasks he’d assigned her. She had never struggled this much to complete them before. 

However, given the chaotic dynamics of the club and increased heists lately, she’d been more stressed and less well-rested than normal. As such, her focus was waning. Well, waning would suggest she had at least some small amount of focus left. Which she didn’t. Lack of focus would be a better way to put it. She couldn’t focus if her life depended on it. In some way it did. 

It wasn’t that Kaz would kill her, or even really threaten her for not completing the tasks as he might the other crows, but that was not the relationship he had with Y/n; and she knew that. But, she knew he’d still be disappointed in her. 

Yet, that wasn’t even the biggest threat she faced when it came to having failed to do her job. Instead, Kaz was on a time crunch for moving forward with their next heist. If he went through with the heist despite Y/n not completing her assigned preparative tasks, someone could die. 

Y/n had given up already on getting her tasks done today. She tried countless times, in countless ways, at countless different locations. All without even a minute level of success. They weren’t difficult, but her mind still wouldn’t cooperate or focus. 

Hence why she resorted to isolating herself in the dingy back room of the club. It was almost poetic. This was the type of place she belonged after her shameful failures today. A place with cracked walls, dirt and soot, no lighting, cobwebs, and empty splintered boxes. 

Kaz clenched the top of his crow’s head cane tightly as he limped down the stairs. He had spent the last hour waiting for Y/n to join him in his office, yet he’d seen no sign of her this evening. In fact, Kaz hadn’t seen her since the early hours of the day. 

It wasn’t just that she wasn’t in his office tonight following the dinner Inej made the crows, it was that he couldn’t find her in her room either. Kaz even passed Inej in the hall and asked if she’d seen Y/n. He knew if Nina were nearby she’d be able to notice the way his heart rate increased dramatically upon Inej mentioning she hadn’t made it to dinner tonight. It was very unlike Y/n to not enjoy the company of the other crows. 

Kaz could understand if he’d somehow done something to make her mad. However, that wouldn’t explain why she hadn’t joined the other crows for dinner. He never joined the crows for dinner of his own volition; unless Y/n pleaded with him for days prior. So something must have happened to prevent her from joining them tonight. 

He wasn’t sure what was behind her absence, but he planned to get to the bottom of it. Kaz knew he couldn’t protect her from everything, especially in the barrel. Saints, he’d told her as much himself. Besides, he knew Y/n was more than capable of handling things herself. But, her absence tonight made his heart ache until he was practically speed-walking through his club. 

“Boss, come join us” Jesper called, waving Kaz over to where he was. Jesper was leaning against the bar counter, Wylan beside him shaking his head. 

“I’m clearly busy” Kaz retorted harshly, continuing his departure to the streets of the Barrel. 

“Is everything alright?” Wylan bravely asked as he pulled a drink away from Jesper. 

Kaz glanced sharply in his direction and shook his head, “I’m missing a crow”.

Wylan appeared to think for a moment, likely counting each crow and where/when he’d seen them last. “Who?” he pressed, unable to deduce who was missing. 

This infuriated Kaz. How could Wylan, or any of his crows, not notice Y/n’s absence? Nor see it as problematic or concerning? Kaz reluctantly pushed those irritations aside for the time. Yet, he made a mental note to return to the matter later. After he’d found y/n.

“Y/n” Kaz groaned, his gloved hand squeezing the top of his cane until he felt the metal edges grinding into his palm. 

“Really? I just saw-“ Wylan began, stopping when Jesper exaggeratedly shook his head and waved his hands around in the air. 

Kaz rose his right eyebrow at the couple and turned to face them. He made his way to them silently, his grip still tight on his cane. But his pace had slowed now that there seemed to be a piece of information he had been missing. 

“Where?” Kaz demanded firmly once he reached the counter. 

“Umm… maybe I was-“ Wylan mumbled, his eyes full of confusion as he looked between his drunken boyfriend and Kaz’s angry glare. 

Kaz smacked his cane against the hard floor, the sound reverberating throughout the club. Everything around them halted as all eyes shifted to watch Kaz tower menacingly over Jesper and Wylan. He turned enough to send the onlookers a warning glance. 

Once the rest of the room had resumed their previously abandoned activities, Kaz stared expectantly at Wylan. Jesper was clearly in no place to be of assistance, despite the fact that he clearly knew something. Wylan, on the other hand, appeared to know where Y/n was at, but not whatever detail had Jesper telling him not to disclose her location. 

“She…” Wylan trailed off, still uncertain whether to trust the hesitation of his boyfriend or comply with Kaz’s unspoken order. 

Jesper groaned, leaning his head on the sticky counter. “No one chooses to stay back there if they want to be found” he mumbled. 

Kaz furrowed his brows as he leaned closer to them. “If neither one of you tell me where she is within the next twenty seconds, I will-“ he began to threaten. 

Wylan cut him off before he could inform them of their potential consequence. “Are you planning on hurting her?” Wylan questioned. 

Kaz’s stare hardened despite the pain in his chest at the insinuation. He had never done anything to hurt Y/n. Saints, he threatened his crows, but would never truly act on it. Kaz knew his reputation was likely the reason Wylan was asking. Yet, Kaz hated that Wylan felt he had to ask if Kaz would hurt Y/n of all people. 

Wylan’s body language shifted as he picked up on Kaz’s reaction to his question. Nonetheless, Kaz needed to know where Y/n was. More specifically, he needed visual confirmation that she was safe. And ideally, learn why she was seemingly avoiding him. “No”.

“She’s in the back. Behind the old storage boxes for the bar” Wylan stated, tilting his head towards the door behind him. 

Kaz nodded once at Wylan, sent a stiff glance at Jesper, and moved past them. He couldn’t control the thoughts in his mind as he made his way back to the storage room. Why would she choose to be in the one truly unkempt place in the club? Why did she prefer to be there instead of in his office? 

As the door creaked open, he saw movement behind the row of shabby shelves. He stared intently in that direction, hoping for another glance. He could’ve sworn he’d seen her y/h/c during the initial flicker of movement. But he didn’t want to announce himself just yet if he was wrong. 

As he moved closer, he heard the sound of someone hitting the floor; he picked up his pace upon recognizing Y/n’s faint groan. It only took him a few seconds to reach the end of the aisle. When he did, he came upon the sight of her attempting to get off the ground. 

Kaz watched as her eyes flickered from the ground, to his cane, then back down. He sighed loudly. If it wasn’t before, it was now evident she was avoiding Kaz. But he still couldn’t figure out why. 

Y/n noticed Kaz extended his gloved hand down for her to use to stand. Y/n shook her head, pushing herself up. Once she was on her feet again, she brushed herself off. “Excuse me” she whispered, attempting to move around him. 

Kaz’s gloved hand stopped her from leaving, his leather covered fingers wrapping around her wrist. He silently tapped her inner wrist before tugging on her arm. “Look at me” he said. 

Y/n slowly spun around to face him but remained silent.  

“Why are you acting like this?” Kaz asked, furrowing his brows as he stared down at her. He slowly let go of her wrist and dropped his hand back down to his side. 

“Like what? I need to-“ she began, eyeing his gloves. 

“Continue avoiding me?” He pushed, giving her a knowing look. 

Kaz watched the way her eyes widened and lips parted. She clearly hadn’t expected him to call her out on her actions. Or perhaps she didn’t expect him to notice at all. Either way, it was clear he’d caught her off guard. 

“You didn’t think I’d notice?” Kaz questioned, his voice a bit sharper than he intended. 

Y/n glanced down at her dirty boots and sighed. “I hoped you wouldn’t. I hoped you would be focused on something other than my idiotic self” she admitted. 

“Excuse me?” Kaz spat, frowning until he felt a pain above his eye. 

“I am a failure, Kaz. That’s why I can’t look you in the eyes” y/n explained, shifting under his piercing stare. 

Kaz sighed in annoyance, “Y/n, you know I don’t tolerate lying”.

“I’m not lying” she whispered, her voice cracking. 

Kaz’s gaze softened as he saw a silent tear roll down her cheek. He shifted his jaw and took a deep breath. Kaz was about to ask Y/n what she was referring to when he heard her let out a quiet, shaking sob. 

Kaz abruptly snapped his body in the opposite direction. He ignored the pain in his knee as he quickly limped back to the door that lead to the main hall of the club. 

“Please don’t leave, I’ll stop crying” y/n whimpered, suddenly behind him. She grabbed his wrist with her hand, careful to only rest her skin again his jacket sleeve rather than his exposed skin. 

Kaz turned to her, moving his arm until her hand was in his gloved one. He gave her as tender of a nod as he could. His voice was still rough but quiet as he told her “I’m sending everyone home”.

Worried the club would lose money by closing early, she began to argue. “But it’s busy tonight. It’s important that we-“ 

“No,” Kaz cut her off, squeezing her hand, “you’re what’s important right now”.

Kaz watched as Y/n crawled onto his bed silently. She was now dressed in one of his shirts and a pair of her shorts. The open window of his room provided some relief from the stuffy warmth of the air this time of year. 

He wasn’t sure how to help her. To be fair, he wasn’t sure how to help anyone. Being vulnerable and emotionally supportive were not his strong suits.  

He couldn’t physically hold her as she expressed her feelings. He wasn’t great at showing or expressing his own feelings. He didn’t know how to begin the conversation without upsetting her. And he didn’t know how to verbally respond if she were to express the reason for her depressed state. 

He could be straight forward, he was good at that. But he didn’t feel that was enough. It was one thing to tell her she wasn’t a failure like she claimed, it was another to be able to elaborate on that and offer a compliment instead. And Kaz wasn’t good at the latter. 

“You’re okay” Kaz said in a weak attempt at comforting her. He sighed softly as she nodded doubtfully and stared at her lap. He wasn’t off to a good start. “Did you.. Want to talk?” Kaz asked hesitantly. While he wasn’t sure how well that talk would go, he could at least offer one. 

She glanced up at him briefly before her eyes quickly looked elsewhere, “No”. 

Kaz nodded and removed his hat and jacket. He watched her closely while he hung up his items, eyes scanning her face as she tried to regulate her emotions. Once his outer layers were hanging on the rack, he made his way to her. 

Sitting beside her, he still wasn’t sure what to do, but he would at least offer his presence. Kaz slowly extended his hand between them, palm up. 

Y/n looked down at his hand and flickered her eyes up to his face in search of confirmation. When she received an affirmative nod, she rested her hand in his gloved one. She nearly jumped when his fingers laced through hers, and he gave her hand a comforting squeeze. 

His actions eased some of her guilt, nerves, and shame. She now felt that perhaps she could tell him what was troubling her after all. Y/n knew he might not understand, but at least she could try and get it off her chest. 

She hesitantly whispered his name in the form of a question, “Kaz?”. The corners of her lips twitched upwards faintly when he squeezed her hand again and hummed quietly as a sign for her to continue. “Maybe I do want to talk…is that okay?” Y/n asked. 

Kaz nodded and gave her another small squeeze as he worked to calm the imaginary waters hitting his legs from the contact. 

“I am not getting any of it done” she confessed, staring at the wall across the room from them. 

“Any of what?” Kaz questioned, his eyes watching her body language intently. 

“My jobs, I’m falling behind, and….and…and…” Y/n rambled, her mind once again unable to focus. Even now, when it came to her own emotions, her brain just would not focus enough for her to form the right words. 

“And?” Kaz asked, his soft tone and careful attention saying more than his words ever could. 

Y/n snapped her eyes over to him, the tears in them making Kaz grind his teeth. “I’m failing you” she responded after a few seconds. 

“What?“ he questioned, letting out a breathy exhale. His tone this time was much harsher and more serious. Kaz hoped it displayed his offense over such a suggestion rather than coming across in a hurtful manner. 

“I’m failing you” Y/n repeated. She looked away from his tense eyes, sighing when she felt his hand slackening its grip on hers. As a result, she began to pull her hand from his in embarrassment. 

Kaz noticed the action and promptly readjusted his grip. He gave her a silent squeeze as he composed his thoughts. “What are you talking about?” Kaz finally asked, schooling his eyes to remain soft, despite his concern. 

“You asked me to review the maps of Chenvilun’s, but I can’t focus” y/n cried. “I tried, but every sound from downstairs distracted me” She elaborated. 

When Kaz nodded slowly, she continued, “So, I went to the University library. I thought it would be quiet”. Y/n sighed loudly, “But then the sound of pens from the studying students wouldn’t stop echoing in my head”. 

Y/N’s free hand dragged down her face, “It’s hard to explain. But… Then I headed back here, and I can’t stop thinking about other things”. She felt Kaz’s eyes on her as she attempted to explain herself. “I could focus on some of those for a little while, but those weren’t what you asked me to do” she stated, frustration evident in her voice. “I wasn't accomplishing or doing what I needed to be… Meaning I also fell behind on the other stuff” Y/n confessed with a sniffle. 

The confused look Kaz responded with prompted her to elaborate on that concern. “I didn't do my regular chores either; I didn’t help Nina with the dishes, or visit Rotty at the docks to see if there was anything to report to you” y/n pointed out, unconsciously tightening her grip on Kaz’s hand as her emotions took over, “and then I got so overwhelmed that it cycled and I-..I…I..-“

Kaz saw the signs of a panic attack beginning to take over; he knew the warning signs all too well. However, as he despised his own, he hated hers even more. At least with his, he was the one suffering. With hers, Y/n was the one in pain, and Kaz hated that. Especially since he couldn’t offer her much help whenever they’d hit. 

He quietly moved closer to her, hoping his proximity would help. Kaz felt her hand slip from his as she began to tug on her hair with both hands, breathing loudly. He moved his gloved hand towards her and placed it on her shoulder. 

“Y/n/n, your only task right now…” he stopped himself to reword his response. “The only thing I need, is for you to breathe” Kaz told her. 

“No, you-“ She argued breathily. 

Kaz firmly shook his head, “Your order is to breathe. That’s all.” He followed up his statement by intentionally breathing loudly. He maintained a steady pace in hopes she’d copy his breathing with her own. 

Once her breathing was starting to improve, she lowered her hand from her face. Y/n took a deep breath, making sure the intake matched Kaz’s. She risked looking up at him despite her embarrassment. “You’re not mad I failed you?” Y/n wondered. 

“You didn’t fail me” Kaz replied simply. When Y/n silently shook her head in disagreement, Kaz sighed. “Y/n, you did not fail me” he promised. Stepping outside his comfort zone, he tenderly added, “You could never fail me”. While he wasn’t sure about confessing such a vulnerable sentiment to her, when he saw the shimmer of joy in Y/n’s eyes, he knew it was worth it. 

“One thing at a time, and we do it together” Kaz stated upon sensing Y/n was still worried over not finishing her jobs.

She nodded her agreement and grabbed the papers she had set down beside her when they entered his room. 

“No. After you rest” Kaz corrected sternly. 

Despite his sternness, Y/n still resisted his attempt to get her to forget about her duties for the night. “But,-“ she began to protest. 

Kaz’s gloved hand shook slightly as he stroked Y/n's cheek, brushing a loose lock of hair from her face. “Not resting will make it worse,” He reminded her. Kaz cleared his throat, once again being more intentional with his words. “It will make you feel worse, and I won’t have that” Kaz explained. 

Y/n wiped her face and nodded, but she still gave him a sad look that told him she wasn’t entirely on board yet. “I can’t sleep if my mind is racing” she explained. She looked shamefully back down at her lap. Kaz had already done so much for her tonight, yet here she was, still complaining. 

Kaz silently racked his brain for a solution. Suddenly, it hit him as his eyes landed on the tiny bookshelf he’d installed specifically for Y/n’s collection. She had her own bookcase in her bedroom; however, Kaz often noticed she’d bring books to his room, trying to keep them neatly stacked and out of his way. Since then, hed had one of the dregs install the shelf.  

The bookshelf served as a reminder to him of all the many occasions in which he would find her hyper-focused on reading her latest book. He knew she wasn’t likely able to read to herself tonight given her inattentiveness, but he suspected the material from her books could still offer her a distraction from the self-deprecating thoughts racing through her mind. 

As such, Kaz unexpectedly offered to read aloud to her. It came as a surprise to both of them, as it was an unusual behavior and fairly intimate for the couple. But Kaz added it to his mental arsenal of solutions for whenever her focus failed her again. After all, it wasn’t long after he began reading to her that he found himself grinning like an idiot as she fell asleep in his bed with a small smile on her face.

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[theseventhoffrostfall]

A while back, me and my buddies were discussing stuff we'd like to see in the event hell freezes over and Elder Scrolls 6 is released in our lifetimes.

There's the obvious general stuff. More weapon types, with bigger movesets and more distinctiveness between them. Dual-weilding and offhand weapons are now a thing, so bringing back stuff like throwing knives/stars and maybe introducing the likes of javelins, atlatls and even slings as a one-handed marksman option would be nice.

And I shouldn't have to say that not only should magic have more spell options (though I like each spell being of a fixed, distinct function rather than earlier TES games having vague mix-and-match effects that lacked any flare and were frequently confusing as to what the in-narrative explanation for what the wizard thought he was doing was) but make spell damage scale so lower-level spells (and also, like, any spells at all) stay relevant at higher levels. And ideally let conjurers some of those old weird summons back instead of having like five options. And let them summon a bunch, because the reason people play summoners and necromancers is not because they want a pet, ever. They want a swarm to throw at their problems. Maybe there's a few basic conjuration spells that are there to mystically command your horde.

More utility abilities and spells. Climbing should be a mechanic, and in a perfect world this comes back alongside athletics and acrobatics returning as, I'd not skills, then things you can invest into to make yourself notably more mobile and make traversing smoother. The Alteration school can once again shine instead of having like two spells that aren't mage armor. There's the inevitable fast-travel debate, which I'd like to compromise by just ensuring the PC has some sort of divine intervention ability or spell that sends them back to the nearest point on the big connected web of fast travel systems. So you still get to explore and master that but also don't have to trudge around wilderness you've seen 500 times.

Restoration used to be about buffs rather than being exclusively the healbot button. In reintroducing buffs (which should be "raise melee damage/ reduce damage taken/ boost movement speed" and the like; I think bringing back attributes is a one-way ticket to cludge-town) you can borrow from the likes of Grim Dawn and use a magicka reserve system, where portions of your total magicka are blocked off for the spell's duration, which will frequently be "until you toggle it off". Keeps people from chugging potions and the like to buff-stack themselves into godhood.

Equipment-wise, smithing just increasing damage and armor rating obviously has to go. My suggestion would be to ditch the linear progression of strict upgrades in weapon type (iron-steel-elvish-dwarvish-etc) altogether, but I realize that's kind of a totem for the series. Instead, have smithing give you the option of applying different affixes to the item, ideally in a flavorful way that shows on the item model. Silver edge for bonus damage to ghosts, poison reservoir in the pommel for extra charges/duration to applied poisons, yadda yadda. The amount of affixes you can smith onto an item is based on smithing skill and item type. Think Fallout 4's upgrade system if they didn't give up halfway through and make most of the options static damage-tier options. Same for armor, along with armor having properly flavorful effects baked in. I should be more cold-resistant wearing fur and more sneaky wearing dark leather.

That being separate from enchanting, which, most of my notes here will be what I've said before--if enchanting can't just be a static boost (as it shouldn't be, if it's an activated ability) then make the bar recharge over time like it used to. Stop making my sword take ammo.

These systems together mean there are fuckloads of possible weapon/armor combos and possible drops from enemies, bosses and chests. Which brings up the main point:

By now, you're probably thinking that I'm talking exclusively about combat, buildcrafting and exploration mechanics, and I should instead be demanding intricate plot, better worldbuilding, an engaging and often arduous world with a slow start. I should be another voice in the choir demanding Morrowind 2. Thing is, that's plainly never going to happen. Realistically, I don't want to see modern Bethesda's attempt at it. Respawning enemies, radiant quests, Fo4's legendaries, Starfield outright having color-tiered rarity, level locations having increasingly-elaborate traps and all ending with a quasi-boss enemy guarding a chest of valuables; Bethesda clearly wants to make a combat-focused, first-person, wide-open sandbox-based hack and slash action RPG, the kind where story is optional and diving into a dungeon crawl is a reward all its own. And frankly, I'd love that kind of game. It's not Morrowind, or Oblivion, or even what Skyrim ended up being, but it's fun, and the success of games like Elden Ring show that the mass market will readily bear more mechanically complex and skill-intensive games than Skyrim. My wish list here is based entirely on trying to make said ARPG an actually good one

[pastelwitchling]

Percy Jackson and the Olympians, episode 4 thoughts.

It occurs to me that there are some people who don't believe you can love something with all your heart and soul... and still critique it. Yet here I am. I can love the Percy Jackson show and still point out the flaws. So if you can't handle any critique of the show, don't read this, or it's all on you if you get pissed off or frustrated. I'm more than happy to discuss if you disagree with anything I'm about to say, but I will not tolerate hate or insults.

Without further ado, here are my thoughts on the latest Percy Jackson episode:

I think the general consensus (HA!) that I saw on IG was that people felt like the episode was too short, and... yeah, it definitely felt like it ended very quickly, and in the middle of a battle too. I understand not wanting it to be a monster per episode, but we've got 8 episodes in total, and much bigger things are about to happen that I think deserve more than one episode a little more than the chimera, to be honest.

I love how much I loved Annabeth in this episode, she was great. I loved Grover, he was great. Percy was phenomenal as always.

I will say that I definitely feel like I understand the show's formula now. A minute or two of some epic imagery, but not doing much with it because we have to have exposition for about 15 to 20 minutes, another minute or two of trio development and conversation, and then jumping right into the action for the rest of the episode.

Y'all can't hear the way I talk, so I get some of this sounds frustrated, but I'm more... clinical about it. To me, we already have the books and the first two movies (should've been five) that, personally, I feel did some of this epic stuff a little better, and so whatever good the show offers now, to me, is just an extra treat.

I loved the little additions, I loved Athena punishing Annabeth because it shows the gods' cruelty even towards their own kids, I loved Percy switching their places, I loved that confrontation, I loved him getting poisoned, that was cool. (I love Percy, I swear, but that was just really cool 😂)

I think the kids playing these characters are perfect, I think the action sequences are awesome, I think the intensity and lines are amazing, I just feel like the pacing and tone of the show is pretty different from the books. To me, the movies just... offered a little more epic-ness in terms of Percy's powers. Movie Percy, to me, really felt like the son of Poseidon because they let him use his powers, and they gave him a connection to water.

I don't really know how I feel about Percy Jackson... being afraid... of water...

I get the idea, I get that it's supposed to be ironic, I really do, but this isn't a book. We don't hear Percy's inner monologue about his comfort around Montauk and the beach there, and water has barely come into play in this show at all. Like there's a surprising lack of it. I get he's Sally Jackson's son, that's the whole thing, but he's a demigod of water and we've barely seen him have any connection to water. Why? Because most of the episode is taken up with EXPOSITION.

Humor me for a second. How much more impactful do you think it would've been if maybe that flashback scene to him as a kid was maybe instead that he was standing in front of the beach at Montauk? Maybe he was looking over the water, watching the waves. Maybe he felt this silent beckoning, moves closer to the water, and Sally Jackson comes running out, screaming for him to get away from the waves. She snatches him up, warns him never to go into the ocean without her again, that he's too young, he's not ready to set off on his own. She'll be talking about his life as a demigod, but he'll imagine she's talking about him drowning or something without her there to look after him. He tells her to breathe, just like he did in the initial flashback, and they share a hug and we see her true distress at almost losing her son to the life of a demigod too soon where he finds out who he is and has to leave for camp, and then Percy wakes up in the train. Suddenly that memory means something completely different to what he remembered. That way, it not only gives him that connection to Montauk, but it also explains him not really being around water much in the time we've seen him, because then we know as the audience that he's been warned away from the water and the life it'll include if he was to venture too far away into it.

Here's the thing. I saw that Rick Riordan really, really cares about making the truest adaptation he can (that's, like, his entire selling point whenever he talks about the show), which is understandable because it's no secret how much he loathed the movies. We know. If you've ever seen any panel or interview, you know how much Rick hates those films. Again, fair, because they're very different from the books. I love them, I think they're tons of fun, but I'm not the author of this series, you know? I don't care about phenomenal adaptations, I care about fun ones. RWRB is very different from the book, and is certainly not without its flaws, but neither is the book itself. They're still both super fun though, so they're still both my favorite romances.

That said, I think it's important to remember that Rick is a writer, not a filmmaker. What works in a book will not always work in a show or movie. The book is in Percy's perspective, so we get a lot of inner monologue on his feelings, thoughts, interests, and what matters most to him. The show rarely lets him talk except to ask a question or throw out a one-liner (that always lands, by the way, Percy is the absolute heart of this show, and the show really becomes phenomenal and fun when he's allowed to speak), forgetting that while Book Percy asked a lot of questions too, we still got his inner monologue to know more about him and his feelings. I think Walker is perfect in conveying a lot of emotion just in his facial expressions, but I do think the show has to give him more to work with because at this point, he's managing the emotional parts all on his own with not much assistance from the script.

I think Rick was so consumed with doing the things the films didn't do that he dismissed the good things the films did. I will reiterate that this isn't necessarily a bad thing. This show is such a treat, we get so many great moments as well as moments that I think could've been done better. Still, that's the way it goes. So for now, I will just enjoy what we get, pick it apart, because that's what I do, and have fun all the same. It's Percy Jackson! It's impossible not to have fun.

[ina-nis]

I feel very burnt out, both mentally and physically, but the physical issues will have to wait a few months until I can get them check out... either way, the emotional issues remain.

Therapist said that this could take several years - same as what last therapist told me, too - and that she didn't want to sound discouraging but... isn't that discouraging regardless? Any way, I told her I'm aware this is going to be a life-long process.

I already got so angry and cried so much.

This is not fair.

That I have been so hurt, so deeply by other people, over things that were not my fault or under my control and now I'm the one supposed to fix them by myself.

"But you're not alone!" Does it matter? Does it make a difference? Who is there with me, a therapist, really?

The next phase in my treatment is acceptance.

I got tired of fighting a losing battle, you know? I'm never going to win against this if I keep on trying to go face-to-face as I've been doing. I know that much now. It's likely there's no "winning" at all, and that's alright I guess.

If I get to a point where I'm able to actually live my life and enjoy my happinesses without a death wish, that's a victory for me. The pain will never go away, that's alright, I understand.

I've been troubled by my own feelings though: I keep engaged in love and romance in most things I do, in things I draw and read, and things I write and consume in general. That's definitely making matters worse, since I'm not avoiding the main cause of my pain.

Looking back at other things I used to do, ironically, they were very social activities that had nothing to do with romance. I did music-related things for fun, for myself and for the community I built around it.

A lot of that was also there to help me cope with an unsustainable living situation. Music gave me a quick and definitive escape from the hassle in my real life, and I never had to touch in these deep wounds.

Before music, it was my own stories and own universes and fantasies, which I engaged in romance quite a lot, but was escapism as well, of course.

Fast forward to here and today, as I started healing from all other issues, as I got into a safer place physically, naturally my mind gravitated towards love. I briefly experienced reciprocal love with my safe person at the time, too, so it's like I crossed a bridge that I'll never be able to go back to. I'm honestly thankful, I don't want to go back.

I just didn't imagine dealing with that loss would be so detrimental to me. But perhaps that was a loss that was loaded with... losses all around my life, that I probably have never processed. No matter what, it's out in the open and I can't go back. That's a good thing because I can try to do something about it finally.

If I'm trying to practice acceptance now, I wonder if engaging in these feelings will be just counterproductive? But it feels as if I were avoiding or even killing a part of myself if I do not experience them anymore.

Love is essential to me, to my happiness and to my well-being too. It's very hard, maybe impossible, for me to see romantic love as something separate from love because love is love to me.

Engaging in a fantasy of love feels good to me, always have. It's just not helping me cope with a lack of (romantic) love in my real life anymore.

When I see advice geared towards people wanting to avoid falling in love, or maybe being alright in singlehood, or accepting loneliness, or anything else... you're supposed to avoid love, since it is a trigger.

The other piece is disability.

Yes, I absolutely thought about trying to reconnect with music and maybe disengage a little from my romantic obsessions, or have a little bit of everything, instead of focusing so much on one thing but... it will just spread me too thin. I barely have the energy to do what I do, I cannot imagine myself engaging in a number of different things as a way to cope better, etc.

"Why not go back to music then?"

Yeah, why not? I asked myself this several times already and the answers were all similar: engaging in love directly makes me feel very fulfilled, music is something that feels more impersonal somehow. I love music and it's one of my favorite things in the entire world and yet, it's not something I feel deep in my core, as an inherent part of me.

Love does.

I wouldn't be engaging with love again if all there is was pain and triggers. Like I mentioned several times already: my feelings are not a mistake. There's a lot of suffering and there's a lot of joy, too. I want to find a way to make the joy worth living for, because as it is, the pain drives me to death, with how cornered I feel.

So... "several years" is a really long time to go on suffering with this horrifying pain, isn't it? That is when I choose the path to healing. I wonder how that will be now that I've chosen acceptance.

[ten-shi-fandoms]

Happy Late New years everyone! This is my first post for this year! I will try to post more this year since i barely posted last year! For my first post I decided to be self indulgent (when am i not-) with some soft Manila Mikey content ^^, Hope you all enjoy!

-Warnings/CW: Slight spoilers for the ending of the Black Dragons arc/Beginning of the Tenjuku Arc of Tokyo Revengers (Not much like no big stuff i guess), Slightly OOC Mikey, Hints of angst (nothing major), Tear licking, Otherwise basically just tooth rotting fluff

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"One, two, three! Happy new years!" (M/N) exclaimed happily, (e/c) eyes sparkling as they watched the fireworks explode in the early morning sky.

It was a special day, much more special than most.

Not only was a it New years, but it was also the first time in months that (M/N) was able to spend time with Mikey out in the real world.

As children they did this often, sitting on rooftops as they stared and laughed at the sparks of colors exploding in the sky after they got back from the New Years festival.

This year Izana gave Mikey a pass to spend the New Years free of him and work, so Mikey used this free time to take (M/N) to watch the fireworks.

It was the first time in a while since the two had seen each other let alone have alone time together so it felt special.

However while a the (h/c) head watched in amazement at the colors filling the sky, a pair of dark orbs watched them instead.

Mikey couldn't help but stare.

The colors that splashed in those pretty (e/c) eyes he loved so much, as light flashed off their (s/c) skin he couldn't help but feel a sense of irony.

It was almost funny how ironic this small moment between the two was.

To think a being such as himself, someone who was covered in sins, lies, betrayal, and death could have someone like them by his side it felt ironic.

How no matter what he did, what he said, or how he looked, they always looked at him with such love and adoration. In a way it made him feel sick to his stomach. It made him want to close himself in, and shut them out but he could never do that.

He was addicted to them.

High off the love the (h/c) head gave him.

Drunk off their presence. Just the sight of them could make him feel like he was falling in love all over again.

Geez, how did he get so lucky?

"Mikey, look at that one! The color matches my eyes!" a excited voice snapped Mikey out of his thought as he glanced up at the sky being lit up by pretty colors. His eyes landing on a pretty (e/c) color firework, the color causing a faint smile to form on his face.

"It sure does, doesn't it?" he replied softly. The response causing the (h/c) head to look over at their lover.

Maybe it was the tone in his voice.

Or maybe it was the solemn look that always remained in his eyes but for some reason the (h/c) head couldn't help but feel like they were falling on love again with the same person in a different body.

Over the years Mikey had changed.

The blonde, shoulder length hair cut that he started out with was replaced with a undercut.

His once lively black eyes, now held a solemn look behind them.

But that didn't seem to make them fall out of love with him in fact in made them fall more in love.

Perhaps it was because the way he treated them never changed.

No matter what crimes he did or problems he got into he never treated the (h/c) head any different.

He always treated them kindly, treating them like royalty even when times got rough.

It was a relationship built on respect, trust and true love.

Even after Mikey killed his friends they couldn't find themselves feeling upset or disgusted, they didn't even feel indifferent.

It was odd, even Mikey was suspicious of the lack of reaction at the time yet as time went on they didn't mind it. No matter what he did Mikey knew he could alway go to (M/N) and be cradled in their arms like a blanket and (M/N) liked that.

It made them feel special knowing after a long day he would curl into their arms and find peace in them.

A small chuckle soon broke the train of thoughts the (H/c) head had as a pout subconsciously began to form on their face.

"Am I so handsome that you can't keep you eyes off me?" Mikey teased as he sat up straight reaching his hand out towards the (h/c) head pushing a small strand of hair behind their ear letting his hand linger.

"Why should I tell you? You were staring and I didn't ask you any questions did I? (M/N) replied sharply, a tone Mikey had grown to love.

"Oh come on my dear let me tease you" Mikey practically cooed at the seemingly unamused (h/c) head. All (M/N) could do was shake their head in dismissal as they leaned closer to him. "You talk to much" they stated, catching Mikey's lips with their own before he could reply.

Mikey smiled lightly in the kiss, his heart felt like it was melting.

The warmth, and love the (h/c) head placed into the kiss warmed his body on the cold winter moring.

After a small moment (M/N) pulled away, their (s/c) cheeks dusted with a beautiful shade of red, a smile gracing their features before it quickly faded as they gazed at Mikey.

Large tear formed on Mikey's lashline soon beginning to slip and roll down his porcelain like skin.

"Mikey? What's wrong, your crying my love.." (M/N) stated softly voice full of concern, soft hands compressing the sides of his face, warmth seeping into his skin under their touch.

"I'm sorry.. It's just.." Mikey paused, more tears rolling down his cheeks as his face was gently pulled closer to the (h/c) head as they licked away the salty liquid the gesture causing a small broken laugh to escape his lungs.

As (M/N) pulled back Mikey smiled.

A smile that made (M/N) pause.

This smile wasn't like Mikey's other smiles over the past few years.

No. It was a smile reminiscent of Mikey from back in their youth.

It was a large, almost toothy like grin. Tears still rolling down his cheeks, smile wide, bright and happy, eyes closed in pure bliss.

"I'm so happy" he stated, his voice lively.

Mikey looked free.

Free from everything.

Free from every burden, every sin, every crime, every problem.

He just looked free.

As free as a bird.

It was heavenly to see after all this time. A smile quickly made it's way on (M/N)'s face as another firework was shot into the air.

A cold hand placed it's over (M/N)'s warm on as Mikey leaned in placing a chaste kiss on their lips.

A lovesick grin on his face, as their expression grew flustered at the sudden affection.

"Happy new year."

[final-girlboss]

So @sounds-of-some-day and I have been trying to watch as many movies we felt would be nominated at the Oscars this year, and now with the official nomination list, I can't say I'm shocked but I'm definitely disappointed.

If Maestro wins a single Oscar (save for maybe Sound), I'll be incredibly upset. Never seen a more haphazardly slapped together, desperate film before, and I think Bradley Cooper's begging for an Oscar is starting to get incredibly annoying.

Killers of Flower Moon was mid at best, but I wouldn't be upset with it winning Costuming, or with Lily Gladstone winning Best Actress (even if I personally feel Sandra Hüller was the standout actress this year both in Anatomy of a Fall and The Zone of Interest). Shocked to see that Margot Robbie wasn't nominated for Barbie however, she was truly the standout performance in that movie and I really feel like she deserves one at this point (she was previously passed over for I, Tonya, which she truly deserved it for in my opinion).

I truly hope Anatomy of a Fall wins something (Original Screenplay seems to be the most likely), because it was such an incredible film. Past Lives, as well, because it did not go where I thought it would and it was such a breath of fresh air, as well as bringing a unique perspective to the idea of destined lovers. I'll be a little pissed about May December winning, mostly because the producers didn't ask for permission to tell the story of the real person and events their story was based on.

I'm tickled to see Nimona nominated for Animated, even though I know it won't win (not that I'm begrudging Spiderverse or Boy and the Heron for this, they're both incredible movies).

I can see Barbie getting Production Design, and I honestly wouldn't be upset with that at all. Though, knowing the Academy, it's usually the historical pieces that win these categories. If Napoleon wins, I'll be incredibly upset.

If Maestro wins Makeup and Hairstyling, I'll walk into the fucking ocean. That fake nose prosthetic was so bad and distracting and it made Cooper sound incredibly nasal-y and awful. Or maybe he was doing that on purpose to sound deeper and it just sounded like shit instead. Regardless, I think it's the worst pick for this category.

Disheartened by the lack of Metro Boomin in Best Song. The Spiderverse soundtrack was breathtaking, and Metro and the rest of the musicians worked incredibly hard on the incredible songs such as Am I Dreaming and Annihilate. Barbie getting two songs nominated...I understand I'm Just Ken was a funny song with a creative dance number, and the emotion and story of finding yourself in What Was I Made For are both really good, but it should have been one or the other.

TLDR; Oscars stay predictably boring and disappointing.

Side note, in December I was able to watch The Iron Claw; INCREDIBLE movie, I cried at least 4 times while watching it. Not a single nomination. Sorry but Zac Efron's role was far better than Bradley Cooper's shit ass Maestro. Please watch The Iron Claw.

[chaoticclaybomber]

The sounds of woodworking surround him, the smell of sawdust and the sealant that Sasori uses to keep his puppets protected against weather mingling with the scent of weapon oil and metal shavings. Tobi is leaned up against the side of the bed Deidara is stretched out on, sharpening a stack of kunai and shuriken as he fills the lazy, warm air with idle chatter. His voice fades into the background with the sound of Sasori's carving knife working at a small block of wood, the puppet master for once working at a silly little project rather then a new or improved puppet. His legs are stretched over top of Deidara's, and Tobi's head is right at Deidara's elbow, all three of them content with the arrangement in a way that speaks of long hours working together and trusting each other with their lives. Deidara is mostly asleep, entirely relaxed.

For shinobi, especially missing nin, this is the highest form of trust possible.

Warm contentment that he's never quite managed to grasp before rests in the center of Deidara's chest. He wouldn't move for the world.

So, of course, that is when the world moves instead.

The door bursts open, and the blond shoots up, finding himself caught entirely off-guard. Wasn't the door open already? Hadn't he just seen Kisame and Hidan amble past? Who had managed to get into the base without alerting everyone else?

The ashy haired young man in the door looks tired but determined, and it takes a long few seconds for Deidara to remember he knows him. Steven sighs at the scene before him, at both Sasori and Tobi standing warily, before focusing squarely on Deidara.

"Hey. It's time to leave. It's a dream, comfortable as it may be, it's still just an illusion, and you know that. I thought you told me you hated illusions more than anything?" Sasori sneers, and Tobi gives a high pitched giggle that's somehow awfully menacing despite being so childish.

"Senpai isn't dreaming, this is very real. But you're invading our space, so now we have to kill you! Tobi is terribly sorry." Steven doesn't even look at the towering, masked shinobi as he lunges, but suddenly Tobi is being flung across the room. Smoke and mist explodes from him at the impact, and he doesn't so much as cry out as he staggers up.

"See? They're not real. Just like that Sharingan thing you told me about, right? The one that makes you see things that aren't there? I'm real, Deidara, they aren't. They're smoke and mirrors, and you need to wake up." Both Sasori and Tobi are thrown away as Steven steps up to Deidara, pressing the handle of the largest dagger he's ever seen into his hand. Then Steven does something absolutely insane and grips the blade, letting it slice into the palm of his hand to draw blood. Deidara is so taken aback that he can't focus on the mist in his peripherals or the lack of his partners.

"I bleed, I'm real, I'm not part of this dream. I came to get you out, you need to come back to reality and leave this place, okay?"

".... They're not here at all, are they, yeah?" He knows the answer, he's known it the whole time. Steven's face shows he knows that, and knows that Deidara needs an answer anyway. It still hurts when Steven shakes his head.

"Come back and stay with Ito and I for a while. It'll be better for you, I think." Steven glances behind him, and his expression goes tight. "Listen, we need to go. My ambitus is... well. They're both going to try to kill us right now, and mine might be a tad stronger than yours. So don't let go of me and keep running." In a flash, Steven has his wrist in an iron grip, and they're bolting through hallways and doorways, and it all blurs between underground passages and halls of shining metal. Deidara... doesn't remember most of it, not past the blur of movement and the screaming of voices he knows and one's he doesn't but Steven does. All he knows is that even once they get out, they don't stop moving, and Steven doesn't let go of him.

He thinks there's a door involved, maybe a dog? Honestly, it's nothing he wants to pay attention to when it feels like something in him has snapped apart, and he's filled with a rushing noise and pressure. It's worse by far than the moment he'd realized he'd nearly killed himself because of Itachi's Sharingan. The horror and fear and anger that had filled him then was nothing to the cascade of... of something that twisted and screamed in his chest like some creature had woken up and was trying to tear him apart.

Sasori was gone, dead, torn apart, and stabbed through what remained of his human form. He was gone, and it was Deidara's fault for having left him to fight alone. His arrogance had gotten Sasori no danna killed, and there was nothing that would bring back the real person.

Tobi was the same, likely no more than dust and atoms floating in a breeze in the miles of desolate emptiness that his final explosion had left. He'd killed both his partners, the ones he'd grudgingly liked, the ones who'd kept him sane in the cage Akatsuki had put him in. They were gone, he was gone, but here he was, still finding himself caught in illusions and cages like a gullible idiot. Because he wouldn't admit that he missed them, that he was alone and it hurt and he hated it.

"You're not, you've got me, and Ito, and Badou, and Uriah at least. You're not alone, so just breathe, okay? You're okay now." Who knows when he said any of that out loud, but Steven keeps up a steady litany of nonsense and soft chatter, and it gives him something to focus on, something to cling to.

The last time he felt like this... he was probably only four or five, being reassured by an older kid in the orphanage. What a miserable reminder of how far he hasn't come at all. But Steven came after him and dragged him out of his cage of his own making, and if he didn't trust him after something like that, what the hell would it take? So he cracks and shatters and Steven lets him scream and cry and get out everything he's been bottling up since Sasori died, just sitting back to back so Deidara can feel the warmth of him there but doesn't feel watched and judged.

It's not better, not really, but it is a little bit. At least he can breathe when he's done, exhausted and more drained, then he's been in his life.

"Get some sleep. It'll look better in the morning when you're not so wrung out." Deidara isn't sure if he really believes that, but what does he have to lose at this point? The room is comfortable, and Steven doesn't seem inclined to leave any time soon, so Deidara supposed he can let himself have a proper sleep. Maybe Steven will be right, and things will be better.

That would be a nicer dream then the illusions anyway.

[semi-imaginary-place]

ffxiv on to shadowbringers full spoilers

i joined ffxiv right around 5.2-5.3 so i actually got super spoiled on shb

really they're putting the gate at the lake and not in the special crystal tower zone where the raids were.

... are those unique animations? that wasn't the default run. wow you can really see how the funding has improved since arr.

oof that bloom effect my eyes are suffering for making a pale ass character dressed in white. the one time in videogaming history where the bloom is narratively appropriate.

so ardbert in shadow. uh i don't recognize the narrator voice. oh hey minfilia haven't seen you in forever. so why did player character get whole body teleported when all the other scions left their bodies behind. (or is the pc secretly collapsed on the source)

now i could go for the map marker.... ooooor i could run around the entire map. boooo the devs thought ahead and blocked me off.

they killed off the brenon clone immediately D:

i can't tell if it's lore significant or not but the crystal exarch's arm doesn't have the lighting effects crystal usually has. like most of the crystal in ffxiv is kinda glowy and a little translucent but the arm is matte like paint. maybe it's a graphics limitation thing idk.

is it me or does the crystal tower look different. i don't remember those basalt looking formations. there's fluffy amaljaa! was initially confused because underground is the WORST place for an herbarium but if the problem is too much light i guess it makes sense. having giant grates in the library seems like a bad idea. hmm the naming scheme seems sharlayan. why is the marketplace called universal music? its a good thing i know most of these terms from other ff games and shab spoilers otherwise if you threw like 7 new race names at me i'd cry. once again the lack of guard rails is concerning. why are the hortorium and sweetsieve no next to each other. a lot of wroght iron and glass.. art noveau? is this entire city built over silvertear lake?

great now the writers have a precedent for timetravel

exarch described feo ul as "kanojo"

ghostbert angst. i joke but i do find this sort of stuff compelling. oh that clears it up, so his title changed. because i just heard that the warriors of light killed the shadowkeeper and caused the Flood but arbert was also going around calling himself the warrior of darkness, and i didn't connect it until now but it was all them. hey this is that melody that plays whenever the pc does something heroic, played prominently in the ultima and around the end of 2.0 but here its real slow and sad.

did the faeries take over ishgard???? especially curious is the faeries are the equivalent to the sylphs. and rak'tika is the shroud equivalent. limsa was gentrified lol. what im curious about is the habitable part of novrant is shown as both an oval and a circle and i don't know which map is right.

exploring lakeland and uh is that a giant lake monster? yeh that's a giatn lake monster. why's there a road at the bottom of the lake. you guys have extremely nice outdoor furniture. like damn going to spend the budget on nice furniture instead of having a roof.

Crystarium architecturally reminds me of my highschool pet worldbuilding project about a magic crystal floating city filled with telepathic shapeshifting immortals.

shb could have been its own game. Post apocalyptic fantasy about civilization on the brink feels like a pretty standard premises minus the light and dark swap. Writers went wild with the worldbuilding. So glad i watched ffxii and xenoblade so i know what a hume is

Theres also how the crystarium is built over silvertear lake the center of all magic. Although middy isnt on the first, then why are there dragons dragonish things around. I wonder how much shared history there is between the source and the first since right around silvertear actually is the elezen homeland and thats where the elf bandits on the first are hanging out trying to reclaim their homeland.

[chrysanthemumpink]

I'm starting to feel like it doesn't really matter. It never matters. It's the same when we're fighting and the same when we're good.

I feel like I'm always alone, like I have no friends, and begging for anyone to talk to me. Which is crazy way for someone in a relationship to feel

Sidenote, once you're older than 25, it gets very difficult to make friends. It's almost like the world pushes for you to have the closest and most intimate relationship with your partner. And that you almost have to prioritize the romantic relationship over any other kinds of connections. So what ends up happening is that it's difficult to make friends with people because they have different priorities while most social events assume that you are with someone else...most likely a boo. Ironically, it's much easier to find a romantic or sexual partner than it is a long-term friendship

But back to me. I know I moved up here alone. I knew I would've have anyone when I got here. When I moved, I understood that there'd be no one there to just chat. Not even when I desperately needed it.

And I just wish that he would call me every day or every other day. Even more so, I wish he could see just how much I need that from him. I mean...I don't have anyone. Even though I'm in this relationship, I don't have anyone.

And honestly, I'm getting tired of feeling that way. Part of me thinks that I don't have too. It's a long shot but I can find someone else, right? Someone that won't make me feel like I'm alone, even when they are in the room.

Off topic, but I grew up heavily religious. I'm still a very spiritual person though I'm far from a fundamentalist. And it's been difficult lately...very difficult. I've struggled with mental health for a long time but it's getting to the point where I don't see myself making it to 30. I'm 27 & truthfully, 28 doesn't seem guaranteed. He doesnt know that. But if he ever, idk, considered that maybe theres a reason I ask for certain things, he would. And that maybe there's a reason I really struggle with the way he just doesn't seem to really care whether I exist or not.

Anyway, I've been fasting for a week now. Might as well try the spiritual route because not much else is working. He does not care much about the fast either but for a moment this isn't about him. I feel alone. And like there's nothing connecting me to the world. Frankly, the world doesn't seem too interested in connecting with me. Quite the opposite. So I did this fast to ask myself the following: "Can my spirit and will sustain me when the external world can't or just doesn't want too."

(On the flip side, that's also one of the reasons I try not to push too hard for affection. He can never know the truth. I would never do something like that to him.)

Idk, I figured fasting from external sustenance would ignite some version of internal sustenance. The first 3 days were 18 hours. These last 2 days have been 24 hour fasts. It was actually much more difficult than I thought it would be. I had no idea that *not eating* can cause vomiting.

But the fast is over in 2 hours. I did it. I managed to rely fully on my spirituality and my own self. And now, he just looks so small in comparison. My disappointment in his lack of effort far outweighs any of the appreciation I have for the effort that does exist.

And I know I'm being harsh. He's not in the states right now. He has an app just to talk to me. He's busy and he wouldn't respond to anything if he didn't care. I tell him to send me pictures and he does. But...it's so unsatisfying. 2 messages a day at most. None of it is a conversation. I know he gets off at 9 and it'd be nice if he would call...at 9. Instead of a message, the a reply, that may or may not be answered. I'm not saying he doesn't have a reason to not be putting in effort. I just think it's a fairly reasonable for a partner to want/*need* a conversation every day when the other partner is literally in a foreign country. my issues aside, the least a partner can do is say they're still alive and how it's going.

I do see his point of view so I'll give it one last chance. When he comes back, I can try to make it work again. And I won't even tell him, lord knows he's too busy to deal with it. I'll just keep it to myself how much I don't want to deal with it anymore. And maybe he'll prove me wrong.

But right now, Ive become more assured in the things that will see me through whatever life lies ahead of me. And I see how little concern or difference our lives effect one another. And well, I just can't afford the feelings he inspires and I can't help but fantasize about what it'd be like to do something crazy like hug 8 times a day