#peak of the year i forgot my depression for a few good hours back then

[mkgrl11]

social media cleanse and restriction. one of the most important things that helped me start being consistent

this post is aimed for people who feel bad after doomscrolling for hours AND for the people who are emotionally sensitive like me. this is NOT necessary to manifest WHATSOEVER. consider this more of a general wellness tip.

i am speaking almost exclusively from personal experience.

long post, content under the cut

what do you mean by a social media cleanse and restriction? what does it entail?

it's exactly what it says on the tin. cutting down on social media in your daily life

why should we even DO a social media cleanse? i don't wanna miss out!!

there are MANY reasons to do a social media cleanse, but i'll just be talking for the loa/loass perspective (there's literally countless other reasons, you can find a few benefits here).

first of all, you are NOT missing out. there is an infinite amount of unimportant things on there that clog up your mind! and i'm talking about mean people on twitter ragebaiting, somebody on reddit who "trolls" you by actually ruining your day, and tiktok creating a new insecurity out of thin air! doesn't it drive you crazy how riled up you can get over a TWEET??? your beautiful brain doesn't deserve to spend hours in places like that. and you do end up being "in touch" anyway, either by your friends referencing new memes, or by the small amounts of time you spend on your phone (you do NOT have to delete social media entirely)

second of all, i believe that that type of content can actually spoil your fun with manifestations, and i'll give some examples. that weird content can make you:

forget that you were saying your affirmations! maybe you wanted to robotically affirm for 20 minutes, and before you know it, your timer goes off, and you were looking at tweets respoted on instagram, and totally forgot to keep your affirmations at the back of your head

confused. maybe you're on tumblr (ironic i'm posting this online btw, i know) and scrolling on the loass hashtags and you see a post that says "manifestation is a process" followed by a post that says "manifestation is instant, and not a process", followed by someone complaining in someone's asks, followed by... and before you know it, you almost forgot what manifestation was even about

...and the point which is most important,

mess up your attention span. i know, I KNOW, don't boo me! i'm RIGHT! when i was at the peak of my social media usage, i couldn't even sit through visualising for even THREE MINUTES without picking up my phone. i had to give up stuff that made me happy (like visualising) to do stuff that fried my dopamine receptors, and i HATED it

okay, but what's the point of the "restriction"?

the restriction part of the name is just to encourage ACTIVELY taking care of the media you consume. don't hop platforms, spiral even lower, or start a worse habit. keep an eye on that kind of stuff. keep yourself busy.

what about non-social media? like music, film, etc.

i don't think music and film taste is something people can really control. but i will admit, i saw my life improve when i slowed down on listening to angry and depressing music, and snuck in happier or more neutral ones instead.

and it SUCKS to admit it, because i am a HUGE screamo, emo, and alt-rock fan (despite the aesthetic of my blog lmao). i also almost exclusively hate romcoms and fantasize about absurd horror films i watched years ago.

but the good thing is, if you want to introduce more fun music into your playlists (if you feel like the music/film you have been consuming has genuinely been ruining your mood, which i feel like it did for me a little), you can totally do that without having to quit the content you enjoy.

do you have any personal experience with this?

you bet!! i'll try to keep it short bcs i have been rambling for a while, so here it is summed up in bullet points. also this all happened slowly over like two weeks.

what i listened to/watched before:

literal youtube drama slop that i didn't care about

doomscrolling on instagram reels

songs with angry lyrics whose sounds i LOOOVED but felt a little down after listening to it

how i felt before:

bombarded with a bunch of stuff i did not wanna know about (like people's personal dramas online, random jumpscares hidden online, etc)

couldn't focus even on things that made me feel good

like i was searching for something, and never being able to calm that feeling down. for example, i would look up "how to caramelize onions" when i had done that 10 times before bc i felt that my self was so untrustworthy, bc everything i need "MUST be outside of me". or i would scroll on loassblr, bc maybe THIS time i'll find the "key to manifesting"

what i listened to/watched after:

fun youtube videos about nostalgic games and comedy that actually makes me laugh out loud

i got an app which limits my instagram and tiktok while giving me 25 minutes a day in case i need it. i could not delete instagram as a whole bc some of my friends are friends i made overseas and still keep in touch with

still a big emo fan, but i cut out a lot of songs that JUST straight up made me feel depressed and anxious and added more of bands who make relatively happier music, rock from the 70s, and edm.

how i feel now:

i am more in control of my thoughts, especially when alone

i am genuinely surprised when i watch a movie with a friend and they pick up their phone right after the title screen plays

i am more satisfied with myself as a whole, and i can rely on my intuition and senses better

i don't need "background noise" for everything anymore

what tips do you got?

i actually don't recommend that you quit cold turkey, because it might be too difficult and you might just end up saying "ehh whatever, i was never cut out for quitting social media anyway" and start scrolling again. go slow

if you do feel that the music you listen to leaves you a bit too upset, but you also don't wanna do a 180 and listen to songs you lowkey hate instead, i recommend you remove the particularly depressing songs from your playlist (you can always listen to them again when the mood calls for it of course), and add in some more "middle" songs. or try on some new genres!

abt the previous point, if you have a DR where angrier music makes sense (like if you're in a rock band, your DR SP loves going to metal concerts, or anything of the like) you can make almost anything work! use that music as visualisation material. all of a sudden, instead of making you wallow in negative emotions, it's a source of power and imagination!

youtube videos, tumblr, and pinterest matter too! especially if you're over there overconsuming loa content. i use my youtube just for fun videos and subliminals, tumblr just to post (i barely look at other posts), and pinterest to add to vision boards.

if you're like me and can't doomscroll on your laptop, log in to the web versions of instagram and snapchat. that way you can text for an extended amount of time with your friends without getting distracted by the reels and snapchat stories

i really like the app ScreenZen, i think it works better than IOS's screen time protector thing

i recommend you keep your hands busy with something else. one of the main reasons why i started this blog anyway was so i could keep my hands off my phone (i'm typing this on my laptop rn). i also picked up knitting and drawing after years of not doing that

use your feelings as a compass. does it feel good when you look at that content? if not, cut it out. you will learn to trust your feelings more that way too

conclusion?

do a social media cleanse, or don't. i'm not your mom. i'm pretty sure my explanations, experience, and tips have spoken for themselves. if you have any questions or personal experience with this, i would love to read it in a comment. please remember to focus on what makes you feel good. that's the whole point

tl;dr?

get rid of bad social media things, keep the good and important. use your own emotions as a guide as to how you should proceed. be careful and be active. you do not need to quit the music you like. be gentle and honest with yourself. good for manifestation, self-trust, and focus.

[vithcy]

@mythicalmythology

posted a banger tweet and thought that tumblr deserved to see it too

[losingherface]

I have the moon

Warnings: Quick ish Smut, 18+

Info : It’s Ellie and readers first night at their new house, that used to be Joel’s.

A/n: srry if it’s terrible, i’ve been busy and just not in the mood to write if i’m being honest but yeahhh also I would love to have requests that obviously fit within the story line because I’m getting a bit dry :))

•

The boxes were full and ready to go. It took about a month to pack up and completely move into Joel’s farmhouse.

It was strange seeing your apartment empty. You had lived here on your own for so many years before Ellie came along. The furniture had changed over the years, and pretty much everything did due to Ellie moving in, having dogs, they suddenly die, having cats, and they suddenly died as well. But this time, it was finally empty, it looked like it did when you had first bought it. It looked like you kept it the same all these years.

You handed the key to your landlord, Britt, she was always fun and kept you company before Ellie, when you were depressed about your job, or anything really. It was hard seeing you go and you felt the same of course. She held you in the tightest hug and it felt like a stab in your heart. But you wanted this, so you weren’t really worried about how you’d feel in a few days.

Ellie waited for you in the car. When you got inside, you immediately noticed the constant smile on her face, she would try hiding it but you could tell, and god that made you feel so good.

It was a long month. From the wedding, to Joel dying, and now this, moving five hours from the city into a rural town where you two would be basically separated from everything, it was a lot. Now you were ready to get to your new home and nap it all off.

•

Jesse, Dina, Tommy, and Maria had all helped move us in throughout the week, and make things comfortable for us. Dina couldn’t get over the countryside and Jesse was irritated by her constantly whining to move closer to us as their baby, JJ, spilled his juice everywhere and made a mess. You were ready for them to leave. Reaching over to pull JJ away, from potentially making another huge mess, Dina calls you to the kitchen.

You were close to losing your temper but instead just ignored it, maybe Ellie will do something.

“Yea?”

“I love these counters, I have a friend if you guys ever need a renovator.” Dina told you as she took out something from the oven, your attention immediately going there.

“Yea I know, What’s that in the oven?”

“My special banana bread, so you can think of me when we leave.”

It was literally all you wanted right now.

“Thanks Dina. I’m going to miss you. And that baby of yours.”

•

As for Ellie, she had been fine, for the most part. She hadn’t completely opened up about how she was feeling but you knew it was passing by. Passing by as in, she was accepting that she’ll never talk to Joel again, not that she’s getting over it and forgetting about him- she’ll never forget him, it was her dad. There was a glow that sat beautifully on her face and it was the same glow she had when you two got married, when you two would be in each other’s presence. It seemed that was her way of telling you but not telling you either that she was content and you loved it.

Your head peaked out of the kitchen once again to look at Ellie, JJ and Jesse in the living room. Ellie had been playing with JJ and you couldn’t help but lose your train of thought. It was so cute when she did that.

•

Dina, Jesse, and JJ were finally leaving. You were going to miss your best friend as she wasn’t just down the street anymore, she was five hours away. Her baby was getting older, and soon it was time she would have to start paying full attention to him so the chances of regular communication were getting lower.

You couldn’t help but feel a little heartbroken.

•

After everyone left, you devoured the banana bread with a large cup of milk, leaning over the counter, nitpicking everything in your head about this house.

You remembered Ellie had been setting up her art room, it was a nice size and way better than the balcony at the apartment. You cleaned yourself up and walked to the room.

The door was slightly open and the room had been quiet, only Ellie’s humming being heard.

You knocked on the door.

“Come in.” Ellie said softly and you walked in. Shutting the door behind you, trying to not disturb the peacefulness.

“It’s late, do you want to come to bed?” You asked as you watched her draw yet another portrait of Joel.

She yawned and put down her pencil. She didn’t answer your question and instead walked over to you and hugged your waist while kissing down your soft neck. She pulled away, “Let’s go.” She stretched her long arm out for you as she opened the door, leading you to your new bedroom.

The bedroom was large, with a walk in closet, a bathroom and a beautiful large window that wasn’t covered with curtains for the purpose of the countryside view.

The room was obviously empty only with a bed that had pastel yellow sheets Maria had bought. You sat down on the bed as Ellie followed. She sat and watched you take off your pants leaving you only in your underwear and a slightly large shirt, Ellie had done the same only her top half was completely bare.

•

It was the middle of the night in the new house, the first night you two had slept there. It had a creepy feel to it. It was quiet and dark, the only light coming from the large window you had been facing. From the window where you had been lying down, you got a nice view of the farm and the night sky, and also an occasional few cars that would pass by.

It was so hot that you had been fighting with the blankets all night, whether they should be on or off. Looking over at Ellie, she had seemed to be sleeping like a baby. You continue to look at the window while laying down, eyes wandering all over the place. The time was 2:00 a.m. It was going to be a long night.

Sweat begins forming on your back, causing you to pull your shirt off, now only in your undergarments.

“I’m going to go look for a fan. I think he had one in the attic.” Ellie just randomly blurs out causing you to look at her, startled.

“Please, baby it’s so hot.” You say as you lean over to the small chair beside the bed and grab the water bottle, desperately chugging it again. As you did that, Ellie leaves to look for a fan.

•

What had felt like forever, Ellie finally arrives with a fan. It was a decent size and was perfect. As Ellie plugs it in, you unclip your bra and let all of the cool air hit you before lying back in the bed, covering yourself with the blanket.

You hear Ellie rumbling into bed, a lot closer than before, wrapping her arm around your body, pulling you closer. It felt so nice to have her this close, as she really hadn’t been willing to for a few months. Also with the heat, you’d just hate being that close.

Ellie takes her warm and soft lips, and presses it on your neck. Kissing you up and down, you closed your eyes hoping she wasn’t just giving you a goodnights kiss but wanted more.

You pull your blanket down from your face to show her your exposed breasts, ready to be caressed and sucked on (lmfao idk how else to say it).

She looks at you with a slight smile before kissing your temple. “Please..” You whisper, grabbing her head with both of your hands, she knew exactly what you wanted. You adjusted your position, lying on your back, waiting for Ellie to slip under the sheet.

Ellie and you hadn’t been together like this in a while, considering everything she’s been through and the missed honeymoon. You can see it on Ellie’s face, she felt so good at this moment. Her face was lit up and the light coming from the night sky reflected on her face.

Ellie kissing down your neck, you move your hand over to caress her soft, slightly greasy hair. Pressing a kiss to her forehead, you whisper, “I love you.” She breaks the kiss, whispering the same back to you before continuing to kiss, getting lower with each one.

At this point, you both knew exactly where this was going, it was one of Ellie’s favorite ways to make you smile. You spread your legs a bit further, allowing Ellie to have some space. You desperately throw the blanket off of the both of you to be able to see her. Her strong hands hold down both of your legs, her eyes lock with yours as she begins licking you right where you wanted her to. Your eyes begin to look drowsy as Ellie begins to pick up the pace. As you moan loudly, you notice Ellie smiling at you making your sounds every once and a while. Seeing her do that made you want more, you loved seeing her that way. You throw your head back into the fluffy, white pillow, grabbing onto anything that was in your region as Ellie relentlessly pleased you with her wet, warm tongue.

you were a mess and by the time you were able to let it all out over Ellie’s sweaty face, you were covered in your own sweat, sitting up on elbows, looking at Ellie get up and move towards you.

Ellie grabbed the blanket nearby and covered you and herself up. You immediately wrap your body around hers, pressing light kisses to her face.

“I forgot how much I love doing that.” Ellie says as you slowly begin to open your eyes.

You propped your head up on your elbow, leaning into Ellie more, caressing your hard, short nails up and down her back. “It looked like you really needed that.”

“Yeah, I think us moving into this house, and getting to do that, makes me feel better.” Ellie struggled to say but it was genuine and you knew she’d be back on her feet again in about another week.

You didn’t know what to say, Ellie’s smile forming on her face effortlessly put you in awe and it left you there once again, staring at her because sometimes that’s all you could do. She appreciated it either way.

.

A/N: I suck at comforting ppl irl and it rlly shows in these stories, and this took me long cuz I can’t bring myself to write smut correctly so i was a little insecure but whatevererrr

[thevirgodoll]

hi! i was wondering if you have any tips to stay organized and stay on task? i’ve been doing a short online course this year and have really struggled to ACTUALLY bring myself to do the work, as assignments and lessons are not under any time constraints i just don’t do it. i also have adhd so get bored or distracted easily. do you have any tips for me?

This is really close to me because I also have ADHD. I have both inattentive and hyperactive type. *As a result, this academic tip guide will be a guide for people with ADHD and not neurotypical people, without disability. There is a difference.*

I am doing online as well this semester.

1. I create a schedule. If I do not create a schedule, I will be unproductive the entire day. So, what will help you is to do things in orderly fashion.

For example, at 12p - I will do this assignment/watch this lecture. You have to dictate what time you’re doing everything. Then, you also have to block out technology distractions while you are working. 

-> Even if you’ve gotten halfway through the day with no schedule, write down or block off times on your digital calendar for what you are going to do at each time. ADHD is easier to tackle if you break things down into smaller tasks.

*Pro tip that I almost forgot: before you do anything, wear your day clothes. Don’t wear pajamas. Actually getting dressed or even doing hair/makeup changes things.

2. Download the Forest app after you have created your schedule. I consistently recommend this because it works in increasing productivity. It allows you to set it for however long you’re doing this task, say 30 minutes.

-> Why?: It will block all apps on your phone for (insert time here) to plant a tree, and if you leave the app your “tree” will die. Eventually, the more sessions you do, the more points you will gain to plant different plants, and eventually plant real trees around the world.

3. Have a list (& a planner) as well. Not only is the schedule creating structure, but the list creates even more structure so you know what you need to get done for the day. It also helps you not fall victim to the classic symptom of forgetting. Each day, you should write down what you WANT to get done and create your own times to look at lecture and assignments. Have goals for the day.

For example: complete assignment 2.

If you do not have expectations with yourself before the day begins, your ADHD will kind of take over and do something else. I have structure to my day. I set a timer to wake up at the same time. I take my ADHD medicine 90 minutes before my final wake up time, and I do my morning routine once it kicks in. Having the same routine helps.

-> Focus on your goals. Don’t be super harsh about the times.

-> Don’t overwhelm with how many things on to do list. Again, break it up into small tasks. For example, one part being: Wash dishes or fold laundry. It makes it less overwhelming to your brain and gives you a choice of which task. Typical non ADHD people just tell you to prioritize tasks but that doesn’t work for us. Do it in a random order and it gets the job done.

4. TAKE BREAKS! The other side to this is making sure that you give yourself adequate breaks.

*For hyperfocus, wait til your hyperfocus has started to wear off. Use it to your advantage for peak productivity. It is no joke.*

-> The misconception is that some people with ADHD are lazy and as a result, some ADHDers won’t take breaks. You can take a break. Healthy, long breaks do more for you long term.

-> Have a timer set. For example, after a 45 minute session or an hour session, I will take a break to do another task that has nothing to do with studying, like laundry, eating a snack, or stretching. Then after that task is done, I will go back to studying.

5. Have a workspace. Only do work at this space. I do schoolwork at my living room table and it is perfect. I do not study in my room because that is my sanctuary for relaxation and rest, not productivity. Make an effort to make the workspace clean, with your supplies - laptop, notebooks, pens, etc - readily available.

-> Once I get to my workspace, everything for the morning is already done. I’ve done my morning routine, so all there is left to do is hydrate while I study.

6. Recognize if you have adequate energy to do the task. Sometimes, with ADHD you may neglect your needs. If you are not getting enough rest, here are some tips:

•Bed should be for rest only.

•Blackout curtains

•Lavender essential oil, I have a diffuser but you can also put it on your pillow

•Background noise: pick what you want, lo fi music, rain sounds, binaural beats, singing bowls

•If all else fails, ADHD is often comorbid with other illnesses, meaning you could have a form of depression causing insomnia for example. This should be considered if you are having long term issues and symptoms.

7. Don’t overdo it. We are not neurotypical. Executive dysfunction is real - meaning our brains actually shut down when it perceives a task to be mundane.

-> You do not have to fit everything into one schedule for the sake of being “productive”. Each day should be what you know you can do, and there are different days to tackle different goals.

-> When you feel like you cannot continue, which is literally a symptom of ADHD, sit still for a few minutes.

8. Have a “What I Did Today” List. Because of how ADHD actually makes us feel, we don’t realize how much work we have put in. ADHD actually can be explained easily, we have about 2 dopamine workers showing up to work while most people are at maximum capacity. We are working overtime to do our best, even on medicine. So, acknowledging what we did today is good and encouraging, or at least reflecting in a journal.

9. Play music. It’s recommended to play study music without words because with ADHD we will submerge ourselves into the playlist of nostalgic 90s R&B. I recommend lo fi hip hop on YouTube, video game instrumentals, classical music, or jazz instrumentals. Whatever gets you going just do it!

General ADHD tips:

•Rewrite lecture notes and type the lecture notes.

•Color code with bright colors and pretty drawings or calligraphy

•Instead of telling yourself “I need to take notes” which usually leads to procrastination say “Rewrite lecture notes and emphasize main points” ... this is useful in your to do list but in everyday goals

•Generally try to get your assignments done ahead of time if there is structure to certain courses, if not, again, stick to the schedule. If you slip one day off your schedule then don’t beat yourself up. Breathe!!!

•Side effect of most ADHD meds is that you’re not hungry so buy easy things to eat like muscle milk or yogurt and granola or smoothies so you can sustain yourself

•Get a dry erase board to show what you need to do for the day and put it on the fridge with command strips

•To avoid forgetting things, put them at a table near the door where you leave your apartment/dorm/house.

•Don’t overthink the time it takes to get ready, often that’s why ADHDers are late. Better to be super early than late though - have a routine set so you know how long each task takes - for example “I know a shower takes me 15 mins, washing my face takes 60 seconds and a few more including sunscreen/moisturizer, etc...”

•In that same grain, set timers for going to the bathroom, showering, etc just in case you one day hyperfocus and push yourself too far

•Open the blinds!!!!

•Clean your room and tidy up your space. A cluttered space impacts your mental health in a really negative way. Your space reflects your mental state at times as well, so check in with yourself. Have a specific day where you know you’re going to clean, but ADHD sometimes gives us bursts of cleaning so take advantage of that as well.

•Anytime your water bottle empties refill it. Have your water bottle or mason jar next to your workspace, and drink 5-10 gulps. Seriously. ADHD depends a lot on hydration, especially if you are on medicine which naturally dehydrates you. If you do not stay hydrated, you’ll get that massive headache mid day and crash sooner. A lot of times, lack of productivity can be due to not drinking enough water.

•If you don’t take medication, then sometimes you may notice you love coffee, and that’s because it’s a stimulant. Too much of anything is not good, but balance it with water. If you’re going to use coffee to kinda “medicate” then do it close to when you’re going to be productive.

•Setting yourself up to do a task rather than envisioning the overwhelming act of doing the entire action. “Okay, lets just get up and get the first step down, such as opening the laptop or wetting the toothbrush.” Baby steps.

•Take advantage of accommodations! Your college more than likely has an Office of Disability Services. Also, email your professors...they’re actually just as stressed as you about classes being online.

•Remember that you’re already trying as hard as you can, so don’t listen to the narrative of “try harder”, “you’re *r word*”, “you’re cheating by using medication”, “just do it,” “it’s easy,” “what’s so hard about it?” or “you’re lazy”. Anyone telling you that, even yourself, is wrong. And DO NOT allow anyone to be ableist, even yourself.

•Validate yourself. Don’t let anyone to do the “I experience that too”/“I know what you mean”/“we ALL have trouble with this!” and they don’t have ADHD. No. It’s our experience, it’s valid, and unlike anything on the planet. If you’re reading this and you don’t have ADHD - no, you do not experience any of the things in my next bullet point.

•Don’t be hard on yourself if you stumble along the way getting this right. ADHD completely changes your executive functioning.

We see the task, but our brain blocks it.

We have something marked down as “important” but our brain tosses it out in the “trash”.

We watch an entire episode of a show, but our brain ignored the entire thing. Our brain picks and chooses what is stimulating, our brain changes our interests.

We have sensory overload, we have no dopamine, we have bursts of curiosity that cannot be contained (often inconvenient) and if interrupted, our brains cannot take it.

People often discount how many things ADHD actually changes because it’s widely misunderstood. I want to take the time to acknowledge that ADHD, formerly known as simply ADD, has different types: primarily inattentive, primarily hyperactive-impulsive, or combined which is what I have. So it’s not “hyper” and “relatable”. It is also not a buzzword to use to describe things. I must put stereotypes and misrepresentations of ADHD to rest.

It impacts us emotionally as well, which most people don’t know... such as rejection dysphoria — extreme sensitivity to being criticized to where our brains self destruct. Our brains don’t regulate emotions well.

ADHDers - do not fall victim to how everyone else operates and call yourself a failure. We have to work twice as hard and the results actually come out brilliant especially with our determination and imaginative ideas that are also seen in autistic individuals, honorable mention!

There’s good days and bad days. There’s literal changes in thinking that other people do not experience. We all collectively know wouldn’t be who we are without ADHD, but we all recognize the challenges. However, it makes me happy to see messages like this so that I can make a difference and hopefully help one person with ADHD, especially of color, at a time stop being so hard on themselves. 💗

[keeptheotherone]

Mecation: Day 1 

Thursday

I once read social media described as an indulgence of the fantasy that others are interested in the details of our lives. I’m indulging in that fantasy this week by blogging about my Mecation under the guise of travel blogging ;)

If you follow me in even the most casual way, you know I’m a nurse. While I’ve enjoyed the vast majority of my 23 years as such, I don’t recommend it during a pandemic. The last 18 months have been the second-worst mental health period of my life, demoted to that position not because of the mildness of my symptoms but simply because at 15 I didn’t have the experience or perspective to realize my life was not, in fact, ruined forever.

COVID increased my personal vulnerability as a high-risk patient and made my job immensely more difficult in countless ways both small and large, but the worst part of the pandemic for me (so far) is it took away all my coping mechanisms precisely when I needed them most. Massage, pedicures, dinner out with friends, travel ... all gone practically overnight. Pre-COVID I travelled all the time--home to my parents’, long weekends by myself (Mecation!), annual visits to BFFs, conferences, tourism, the beach, my birthday, writing trips, international trips ... I always had at least one trip in the works, usually one booked and one (or more!) in the planning stages. 

When COVID started, all my close friends and family except for two lived out of state. One of those two was out of town but close enough to get together, but the other was a few hours’ drive away. I’m single and live alone; it was the most isolated I’ve ever been in my whole life. 

With my bestest friends over 500 miles away, I still feel that way sometimes. I haven’t seen them in a year. If it weren’t for COVID, it would only be 7 or 8 months (I’ve gone every January or February since ... forever). Then again, if it weren’t for COVID, I wouldn’t have been there last September; one had been hospitalized and I needed to see she was all right with my own two eyeballs. I expect it will be at least another 7 or 8 months before we get together again, bringing the total to about 20 months. One year we saw each other 5 times in 9 months, our personal best since college. 

I was alone on Christmas. Oh, I’ve spent December 25th on my own before; I’m a nurse. I’ve worked the night of the 24th or the 25th (or both), or whatever combination that didn’t leave enough time off to drive home. But I’ve never spent the Christmas season without my parents. Sometimes the week before, sometimes the week after, sometimes at my place instead of home, but always together. But last Christmas COVID was raging, the vaccines had just come out but were only available to first responders (I got mine on the 23rd), and my elderly parents didn’t feel safe to travel. So I spent Christmas without family.

Travel was not just a break from my daily routine and the stress of nursing; in many ways, the biggest benefit travel made to my mental and emotional health was giving me something to look forward to.  Proverbs 13:12 says, “Hope deferred makes the heart sick,” and ohhh, I was so heartsick last year! Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t visit my best friends of almost 25 years (more than half my life!). Not being able to travel meant I couldn’t lean on my dad or be hugged by my mom. Not being able to travel--and not knowing when I could travel--left this gaping hole in my future, and I had nothing to fill it with. 

I tell you this not to throw a pity party but to explain the significance of the trip I’m on right now. It is only my third this year: my dad and I spent a week in the mountains in February (my depression and anxiety was so bad then that was treatment, not vacation), I took a friend to the beach over my birthday, and now I’m a couple hours from home at a nice spa hotel. (I’m not counting my nephew’s graduation, which was emotionally challenging for multiple reasons, or helping a friend move from Florida. Moving is never fun.)

I started planning this trip in the spring ... May, maybe? You know, after the vaccine rolled out to everyone and case counts were dropping and it looked like we were gonna lick this thing and have a quasi-normal summer by the Fourth of July (yes, I’m American. That date is a proper noun here.). I had switched jobs in November (don’t ask) and gone on mental health leave December 29th, so I felt I owed it to my unit to put in about six months of work before taking any significant time off, especially since I came back at 24 hours instead of 36. That meant September.

I knew what I wanted to do: 4 or 5 days at an all-inclusive resort in the Caribbean. I’d been before and loved the freedom of not worrying about every little expenditure (what can I say, I’m cheap), and a few days of Vitamin Sea sounded perfect.

Then came Delta.

All right, maybe going out of the country isn’t the best idea, I thought. Don’t want to end up with expensive reservations and then your destination closes to Americans, or you make it to your chosen island but can’t get back home. But I didn’t want to fly (ugh, airports!), I didn’t want to drive (rest stops and restaurants and gas stations), and while I thought about taking the train, it didn’t seem much of an improvement (and maybe a downgrade) on flying.

Then a friend mentioned a sleeper car, and I thought yes! That could work! I’ve never been to New England, I want to go to Boston, that area of the country has low case rates and the highest vaccination rates, this has potential! 

Then I looked at the CDC map. There were only four states that didn’t have high transmission at that time (early August, I think; I’d had to wait for confirmation that my time off had been approved): Michigan, Rhode Island, Maine, and New Hampshire. All four had substantial rates of transmission. Hardly ideal, but one thing I’ve learned this year is sometimes you have to make compromises to protect your mental health. It is true it doesn’t matter if you’re happy if you’re dead; it is also true it doesn’t matter if you’re safe if you want to kill yourself. (I’m not suicidal, I am receiving treatment, don’t anybody panic.)

So, now I’ve settled on Maine or New Hampshire by train via sleeper car (Michigan is too far for a 4-5 day trip and RI--meh). Well, as I got deeper into planning, turned out Maine or NH were awfully far too. Far enough I would have to overnight in a major city, which pretty much defeated the purpose of isolating in a sleeper car. Then I found out there were no sleeper cars on either train route.

So, now vacation is 5 weeks away and I’m back at square one. The Deep South, Texas, and Florida are imploding. Pediatric cases are rising--kids are sicker and make up a higher percentage of cases than they did last year. Scuttlebutt from my ICU colleagues is it’s bad--17/30 MICU beds are COVID and they’re all vented. SICU is being nicknamed “the ECMO unit.” The hospital has 18(!) ECMO machines and 12 are in use; the float nurse who tells us that didn’t even know we had 12 because she’s never seen that many in use at one time. Hospital-wide our numbers are equivalent to early February (we peaked in January). There were six--SIX--pediatric rapid responses in one day. 

And I’m going to travel.

It’s a big deal ... a big accomplishment, really, because of what it says about how I’m successfully managing my anxiety. April 1 was the first time I’d been inside a grocery store in more than a year ... and that wasn’t my idea. It was late April or May before I was comfortable eating in restaurants, even with the falling case count at the time. I’m still not sure if I’m managing my anxiety or reacting to the pressure by going to the opposite extreme (I have a history of that), but I know I’m less stressed, less anxious, have fewer obsessive thoughts, fewer physical symptoms, and am learning to live with this disease. 

So, here I sit at a marble-topped 5-foot-wide desk in my queen/queen hotel room at the end of a productive and enjoyable day. I slept in, completed the big goal of this weekend’s to-do list that I honestly thought would take several days, unpacked and organized my room (I arrived yesterday evening), reorganized my Favorites Bar and Bookmarks on my Mac, had an 80-minute aromatherapy massage, enjoyed a shower in the spa afterwards and even blow-dried my hair(!) before wandering around for a while to get the lay of the land and get some steps in (this place is huge!). Then I changed clothes and took myself out to dinner for my favorite food, Italian. 

That’s me in the picture up top, all dressed up :) Actually, I probably look pretty normal to y’all; like most people with depression, my personal hygiene sunk to new lows in the last year and a half, and as a low-maintenance person to begin with, that’s saying a lot. I bought that necklace as a bridesmaid and am not sure I’ve worn it since; this spring was her 10th anniversary. Yesterday I took out the cat-shaped earrings Dad gave me for Christmas. (Yes, they were gross. Yes, I cleaned them. Yes, I’m wearing them again now.) Just wearing a nice top, fixing my hair (no ponytail or claw-clip bun, my staples), and adding jewelry was a big deal ... especially since “no one” was going to see me. I did it just for me, to make myself feel good. And I did. (That’s another small pleasure COVID took away from me--lip gloss. If I wore any makeup at all, it was lipstick or gloss. Utterly pointless when you’re masked whenever you’re in public.)

I took my laptop to dinner and edited a couple chapters of my new Charlie/Amy fic (previewed during #ktoo turns 10), ran a couple errands, and headed back to the hotel since I don’t like to be out late by myself in an unfamiliar city. Forgot I put my receipt envelope in the backseat pocket and reorganized the glove compartment looking for it, then gathered a bunch of returns into a bag in the trunk. Hung out writing in the lobby until my Mac threatened to die, came upstairs and tidied up, put on my jammies, and talked to you guys :) 

[implodingcacti]

Hi, I worked graveyard at a hotel for 2 years.

Tonight’s my last night. I want to share some stories with you, because this job has been fucking wild.

When I interviewed for the job, my future GM asked if I was a good person (I said yes), complained about the American healthcare system for 30 minutes, and then hired me on the spot. That was my entire interview. He said he trusted me fully because my friend recommended me for the job.

This is the same friend who tried to get me to buy her cigarettes with a school ID because she had left hers at home. Our school IDs were printed on cardstock and laminated by the secretary. I told her it would not work because it looked like a shitty fake ID.

It did not work.

This surprised her.

Also the same friend who had a tan minivan, drove us to Starbucks during an off period in high school, almost crashed because she was smoking, and hit two people’s cars in the parking lot.

Love her.

The first employee I met got into an argument in front of me with her boyfriend. They fought loudly. Afterwards, she asked if I wanted a lollipop.

She got fired like a month afterwards because she took the money from the drawer. This was not the first time she had been fired for this.

I worked with a guy who I’m going to call S. S was a bald white guy who looked like a attorney who couldn’t leave his job. Or a depressed bank manager who’s wife divorced him. He was a very nice man.

I told him this one day on shift change. He thought this was fucking hilarious.

S also used to be a drug dealer. He got busted for selling drugs at this hotel years ago, went to prison, all that shit. My manager hired him after he got out. He thought this story was very funny.

We had a permanent resident named Joe. He was the nicest fucking guy. I chatted with him in the mornings when I set up breakfast. I miss him so much.

He doesn’t live at the hotel any more. This is depressing.

A man threatened to beat me up for flirting with his wife, because he saw us laughing in the lobby. I tried to tell him that I was not interested in his wife, who was 30 years older than me and also not my type. He was still angry.

I texted my manager this. He told me that if the man tried anything, we have, and I quote, “a big ass wrench” next to the safe. He gave me permission to hit the guy with it.

The wrench is, in fact, really fucking big.

A sexline operator called me once, while I was working. This was uncomfortable for me, a very ace then-19 year old. We got into an argument because she claimed I had called her.

Actually just... lots of people liked treating me like phonesex operators. Apparently people’s kinks are listening to room rates. Please do not do this to the people working front desk.

While we’re here, I got invited to a threesome once. The people who invited me? They watched me clock in to do shift change. They asked literal minutes after I clocked in. There is only one person at front desk. They asked after the other guy left.

I declined. For obvious reasons.

The other guy was S, who laughed about it when I told him the next day.

That time that they fired someone and another person left and we were short staffed for a month, so there were two days a week I’d come in at midnight, leave at 6AM, and then come in at noon for another 6 hour shift.

I hated that. Never again.

There was a raid on a hotel across the street. I watched it happen with Joe. He told me shit was wild. I agreed.

My GM would just... text me. At random times of day. To ask how many we had in house.

It was never when I was working.

He was always disappointed that I couldn’t tell him because I wasn’t working.

The time I had to crawl partially under a bed in a smoking room to help a guy get his cat. She was a good cat.

A lady told me a man was outside with a chainsaw and she’d seen him murder someone. Understandably, I was concerned, because she was shaken up and my hearing is godawful. I called the cops, who took things very seriously until she said the chainsaw man had no head in her physical description.

apparently she was on a very bad drugs trip. I learned this the next time I had to call the non-emergency number, because one of the cops from that incident showed up and told me.

A guy died in a room. Normally, you’d think this would be relayed with more urgency. I found about it when I was doing shift change with S. He told me this, and then proceeded to complain about an unrelated room and called them assholes.

The guy’s car was here for 8 months. The company he worked for wanted us to ship the car out to them. We told them they’d have to cover the shipping charge. They refused, and then S got the title to the car.

A guy once threatened to call the cops on me because I told him he couldn’t check into his room 10 hours early without paying an early check in fee. He wanted to call the cops because Expedia said it was 24 hour check in, and it was false advertisement.

He made the mistake of doing this right before I had to head out for a camp. I laughed at him, told him I’d willingly call the cops for him, and that I would love to have them come down.

A scam call once got angry with me because I wouldn’t authorize a purchase.

They pretended to call my manager. I laughed when they did it, because I could hear the phonecall.

My manager had a very particular way of speaking. He was very slow when talking. They did not take this into account.

I told him about this the next shift, of course, and he did not believe me. It was during shift change, luckily, so I did a faux phone call with another coworker, who had worked there for years. Both of them thought it was funny that I had his timing and general tone down.

The scam artists told me I was fired because my manager was, quote, “extremely disappointed in me”. I told them I was glad, because it meant I could go home early.

(My manager told me I wasn’t fired when I told him he had apparently fired me. I asked if he was still disappointed. He laughed.)

When we changed the clock-in system and I had to text our hotel manager whenever I clocked in and out.

A guy tried to tell me that I wasn’t qualified to check him into a room because women are all stupid. I asked him if he wanted to talk to the manager. He said yes, and the manager called him an idiot.

The other time someone told me I wasn’t qualified to check them in because I took too long, and I offered to let her come in and check herself in. Our servers were updating. She declined, because she didn’t work here. I told her she was just going to have to be patient.

Kicked someone out of the hotel once. He came back 30 minutes later to try and re-rent his room. I told him no. He thought I was just joking about him being kicked out.

My GM tried for like 8 months to get me to date another coworker. He made jokes about giving him a raise so he could take me out to dinner.

I do not think my GM knew I was very gay.

The coworker did not take me out to dinner.

The one drunk college student from Germany who I made friends with in the breakfast room, and his significantly less drunk friend.

they both said trans rights, i’m still crying

Drunk men are assholes. Drunk women are godsends.

One night, a lady told me my eyes were pretty, and when I had to help her to the door, she called me gorgeous and said I smelled nice.

her friends were so embarrassed

i forgot how to speak

That same night, a drunk guy said he hated his wife and that he hated me too after calling me an asshole. His wife came in after he said this. I felt bad for her.

Occasionally people would stop at the front desk on their way back from the gas station, and would come bearing gifts of usually drinks. It was always nice.

one time a guy offered me weed brownies

i declined because i was worried about

The guy who stopped at the front desk to ask where the nearest Starbucks was, because his girlfriend wanted a frappuccino, and he was gonna get her one so she could have it in bed.

He came back as I was clocking out.

His girlfriend had dumped him on his way back.

I felt really bad, because this man had peak “dumb of ass but chugs respecting women juice” energy.

Incidentally, I got a free Starbucks frap.

Someone was convinced I was colorblind because I told him that I thought his blue cup was neat.

It was a purple cup.

i did not know how to tell him i was not colorblind, i am just an idiot

Our GM moved to Texas and we didn’t see him for like a year. He was the GM of 2 other hotels. Apparently, he said he was living at all three.

Some dude came into the hotel once night. I tried talking to him. He started signing. I do not know sign, and apologized, and then grabbed a paper to write back and forth with him.

The man made me learn fingerspelling and we instead did this back and forth.

I thought nothing of this, and he came by a few times to chat with me, albeit incredibly slowly.

During shift change, he came in again. I explained to my relief that he only signed. He nodded, and then told me that he had been “healed by a grace act of God, and could now hear and talk.”

He then tried to tell me to come to church to celebrate this miracle.

He told me he was actually fine. He was just choosing to learn ASL and wanted me to participate for the “immersion of it all”, so that I might “find the lord and accept him once more into my heart”.

yes, this was in fact, some white person bullshit

Also in line with white people bullshit, the guy who said he could tell I had a strained relationship with my half-sister but a good relationship with my youngest sister, that my father would recover from the divorce, and that my engagement would be fine. He said it was because I was a Leo cusp, and then said that Kimberly was a good name for me and that I chose well.

i am not a leo. i was born in december

i have no sisters

i have never been engaged

my parents are (somehow) still married

i was wearing a nametag. angeles does not sound or look anything like kimberly

They sold the hotel last year to new owners. Nobody knew until an email got sent out that said we “probably would still have our jobs”.

I argued with my new manager about a raise. He didn’t want to give it to me. I told him he had to, because I was working minimum wage, and the minimum wage had gone up.

the AAA guy who was a real big dick when I asked him to repeat himself and joked about women being bad at jobs.

He asked me if there were any discounts. I refused to give him any, because we had none for him.

He asked if I knew if there was any discount that would make him stop asking me stupid questions. I sighed and said “No, but god I fucking wish there was.”

Tonight, a lady asked me what our beta fish’s name is. I don’t know. She decided to name him Benny, and then asked me to come up with a name. I panicked and said Soap. This was apparently the right answer, because she nodded sagely and said I chose wisely.

[procrastinatingsab]

Chapter 2 of Trapped is up! please let me know what you think ;3

Summary: A woman disappears. She shows up two days after her husband reports her missing, gives no explanation of what happened and takes her own life the next day. Is she the only victim? Is it really suicide? And what happened when she went missing? Bright and the team investigate the mystery, and Malcolm finds himself in danger yet again. Will he come out unscathed?

AO3

Read Below.

Additional Tags: Implied/Referenced Suicide, PTSD, Claustrophobia, Panic Attack, Kidnapping, Implied Brightwell

note: This chapter has mentions of suicide, nothing is explicitly described, but please be warned. Note: I am sorry in advance if any of my medical knowledge or drugs is unrealistic. I just had an idea and I am rolling with it.

Chapter Two: Edrisa Brings in a Case

It was a good day. He navigated the streets of New York City with ease. His footsteps were happy, bouncy even. And why wouldn’t they be? There is a Case Afterall!

And nothing makes him happier. It’s not like he enjoys murders.

No.

He just likes to catch killers, bring them to justice. He wants to protect his family and his community. He's told John Watkins that already. He also admits that it keeps his mind off things. Keeps things at bay. It's also a good challenge, a euphoric experience. Almost like ecstasy. That all he admits.

But what he fails to admit is that he feels it's his personal mission to atone for what Dr. Martin Whitly has done. The pain he has imposed on the world. The wounds he inflicted. Wounds that did not only affect the victims and their families but also his mother, his sister, and himself. Wounds that cannot heal. Wounds that continue to bleed twenty years later.

No.

He does not admit any of this. Because this thought redeems him, makes him a good person. Like some good Samaritan who saw the world was suffering and decided to help. But he knows he's none of that. "We are the same." He is not a good person. He's just to blame for what his father did. He is not any better. He is broken.

Yes.

He's serving his penance. Atoning for those sins, he somehow feels responsible for. And even though he can't seem to close the old wounds, he was at least sparing others the all-knowing pain. That’s why he loved his job at the FBI. This is why he loves working for the NYPD.

Today was a different case, though. It wasn't Gil who called him, like usual, but Edrisa. He could feel her excitement radiating from the text. Or rather a string of texts. Edrisa was the type of person to shoot 10 texts to get through one idea. Blurbs of text came to his phone as he was sipping his morning coffee.

Bright!!!

You need to see this!

I need to talk to you.

It’s about a case.

Like a very cool one!  

ASAP.

Really! It’s a good one!

He was out of the house as soon as he read the word case. Malcolm liked Edrisa. He could always be himself with her. She doesn’t judge him or give him creepy glances when he’s fascinated by murder. She's actually into the same things he likes. They share the same fascination for science and anatomy. He’s grateful for his team in the NYPD, more so now that he feels accepted by them. However, Edrisa was the first to accept him right away, and for that, he will always be grateful. After years of being considered a freak, bullied, harassed, and looked down upon, bright couldn't shake the amount of relief he felt about being so fully accepted and so fast. Even when she knew who he was, what his father was.

He reached her office, and through the glass window, he saw her frantically typing on her computer. Her eyebrows were creased, and she was deep into whatever was on the screen that she startled when he opened the door.

"Bright!" she exclaimed, "what took you so long! Come…come in quickly."

She was hopping on her legs, and in her hurried pace, she managed to hit her funny bony. "Aow Aow Awo,” she repeated and muttered, “why does it always hurt that much.”

Malcolm smiled. It was a quiet and rueful smile, the only smile he ever gives. She doesn't remember ever seeing him truly smile.

“ Hello Edrisa,” he looked at his watch, “I had to walk here. Your texts said you have a case?”

“ Yes, yes, YES," she said with a pointed finger up in the air while navigating back to her desk, and he followed to sit at the chair there. "Okay, so it's not really a case per se,” she said and saw his shoulders drop. “Wait, I mean it is, I really think it is. But when I spoke to Gil, he did not see it.”

He frowned, "Why would, Gil ..."

“haah! Because the victim wasn’t killed.”

His frown deepened, but it wasn't an impatient frown. It was leaning more towards perplexed, thoughtful, and definitely not judgmental. She looked at him for a second.

"No, no, no. Let me explain. Let’s start from the beginning, shall we?” she pushed the rims of her glasses to her nose and started.

"So yesterday was a normal day. All cool. Daily work, nothing out of the ordinary, really. I was working with a poor Jane doe but then. Oh, by the way, did you know that when the lungs are submerged in water for so long, they kind of… oh, Sorry, sorry, of course, you do! Where was I? I got carried away,” she smiled sheepishly. Malcolm smiled back. He knows how Edrisa gets carried away, he does so himself more often than ever, so he's not one to judge. On regular days they can both start talking and jumping from topic to topic that by the end of the conversation, they would have discussed ten different things and forgot what the initial topic was even about. Today was different though, this was not an idle chat. They were discussing a case, and so he curbed his itch to ask about Jane Doe and silently let her continue her narrative.

“Back to our story,” she continued, “ So, I get a call from a colleague of mine, Dr. Mathew Brown, he was working with a victim…um, a Mrs. Lori Stewart. Poor soul took her own life. Husband found her in the bathtub, having slit both her wrists." She hung her head low for a few seconds in dismay, and her voice was less enthusiastic, more apologetic, "She left behind a two-year-old. The husband was devastated."

He lowered his head in turn. One would assume that after so much death surrounding them, that it will get easier. It never does.

“So, Mathew, he um... wanted my opinion on her. He thinks it might not be as simple as it looks.”

In reply to his arched eyebrows, she continued, " Lori went missing a couple of days before the accident. Her husband filed a missing person's report forty-eight hours after she disappeared. He insisted that something terrible must have happened to her because Lori rarely left the house. Never without letting him know. Never without lily, their daughter. He was frantic, according to the reports here,” she moved the monitor on her desk a bit to show Bright the police report.

“However, she turned up two days later, completely unscathed, gave no explanation to where she was. Said she just wanted time off. So, the investigation was closed.”

Malcolm’s hand moved to his face stroking his chin. Edrisa knew he was processing the information, thinking of the hidden angles, something he always does, so she let him be.

“She was not restrained?” his head jerked towards her.

"No. There were no marks anywhere to indicate she has been restrained or held captive. Her clothes were in pristine condition. In all outward appearances, she looked fine. The police ran the S.A.K, and the results came back negative. Apart from her apparent silence, there was really nothing to do.”

Malcolm eyed her, and his lips curled playfully, " but that's not all. Right Edrisa? Tell me what is missing. What did you find out!”

She smiled, not at all flustered by his sassiness. He was not the best profiler she knows for nothing.

“That’s what Mathew contacted me about. He found a very carefully hidden needle entry point. She has been dosed with something. So, when checking her tox screen, he found some anomalies. Lori had a history with depression, recently she suffered from postpartum depression and was still on mood stabilizers, among many others. The bloodwork that was taken back when she came home, and that after her death gave perplexing results. Supposedly, she left her medicine at home, so her blood shouldn’t have any traces of the drugs. Yet the levels in the report indicate that there were drugs in her system. The person-in-charge back at the time did not notice. The total concentration was within limits and in line with what's expected, given her medication list. However, if you look closely at the chemical's concentrations, you can see some of the peaks belong to model drugs that mimic the behavior of a conventional drug. It is very easy to miss if you are not looking for it."

“So, she was given another cocktail of drugs in different concentrations such that the overall concentration was within the limits? That way if you are not directly looking for it, you might miss it. Fascinating! Any idea what could those drugs induce?”

She shook her head, “Unfortunately, by this time, the drugs were flushed out of her system and also mixed in with her normal pills so further tests could not run accurately. She was missing for four days, two before Mr. Stewart was able to file a report. According to Mathew, if she was dosed, she must have been dosed on the first day. That's roughly six days ago, so it is not easy. But we know an excellent forensic chemist. We sent her the sample. Amy Garcia will figure it out, she’s the best!”

Malcolm gnawed at his lips. Something was missing. The case sure was a mystery, but he has nothing to work with for a profile. No pattern. Just a suspected foul play that might have led a poor woman to lose her life. Nothing concrete. He understood why Gil did not see a case yet.

“Edrisa,” he started but was interrupted.

"Okay, now you know the specifics. umm, you also know that I um kind of follow lots of real crime blogs?" her voice continued to drop as if she was ashamed of her hobby and expected the usual judgemental looks she normally received. He said nothing, just looked at her expectantly, and waited.

“ Lori Stewart was not the only case. In fact, this is the third case this month alone!”

That’s it. she hit the jackpot.

He shifted in his chair and looked back up at her, his blue eyes shining with radiant excitement.

She liked how excited he usually gets, and a deep sense of pride invaded her. She had to admit he had pretty eyes. The type anyone can get lost into. And they got all the much prettier when they gleamed this way. Edrisa liked Bright. No. Not in that sort anyway. Malcolm bright was not her crush, despite how she always makes it seem. He is a friend. If anything, she just loves his brain and is fascinated by it. However, that does not mean she can't appreciate art, and his eyes were art.

“The reason why the two cases passed under the police’s radar was that the victims were not reported missing. Here..” she passed him a file with two names and some information.

“A college Freshman, Alex Sanders, and Patricia Young, she is an artist. Here is all the information that I found. I will also let you know when Amy gets back to me about the drug."

“Thank YOU, Edrisa," he said with excitement while hopping off his chair. He steadied his clothes, "I will start on a profile right away. But I will need more information."

She smiled playfully, “You could probably ask Detective Powel. I am sure she will be happy to help.”

He did not seem to hear her because he offered no comment, but she could see his cheeks flush a little. He waved her goodbye and rushed out.

Edrisa eased in her chair. She already felt better. Whoever was behind the death of those people, and behind orphaning a two-year-old will not get away with this.

Edrisa tensed while she sat in that metal armchair. She was terrified beyond measure. Her wrists were tied to the arms of the chair using duct tape. Her ankles were tied together as well. She felt a searing pain in her limbs like fire every time she struggled against them. Edrisa knew that they won’t give away, they were wrapped at least five times, but that did not stop her. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears, and she was struggling to breathe. The duct tape gagging her made matters even worse.

She sat in that chair like some damsel in distress, she couldn't even lift her glasses up when they kept slipping off the bridge of her nose. Not like she loved what she saw, but she has to be able to see.  A wave of helplessness crushed her even more, her heartbeat beat even faster. I am a damsel in distress, and by the looks of it, I am not going to be leaving this place alive.

She could not have imagined that she would ever be in such a position. Sure, she had a gun pointed at her once before, and she did not imagine that as well.

No, but no, this was different. This was hopeless. This was futile.

She looked at Bright, a few feet away, and her eyes welled with tears again. She was astonished that tears kept coming. They kept pouring down her face unchecked, and she let them. This was all her fault; she should never have gotten involved in that case. She should never have sent bright those texts.

[kaguraspetsims]

[[MORE]]

Hey guys sorry for the absence, work has been...shitty. like, it's making me so depressed and anxious that I'm losing sleep. I'll tell some stories in a second but like for those of you who want a tldr the assistant manager training me has some personal vendetta against me for some reason and is literally making my life hell.

So, just so we are clear: I have worked at this store for 1 and a half months. I dont remember if I've ever said the company I work for but I will say it's a pizza place.

At this store we have the store manager (call him R) and 3 assistant managers (P, A, and me).

A has been at this store for 2 years, P is the one that trains new AMs. A became an AM like...half a month ago. I have no prior experience in this company so I'm trying to learn the basics PLUS manager stuff.

So to try and keep things easy to follow, after my first week or so there P has me sit down with her and she asks me how I am able to learn better. I explain to her that I need positive reinforcement and I need to be told if I'm doing something wrong when I'm doing it wrong so that I dont form bad habits and have to relearn things. I also explained to her that I have short term memory loss, which is the reason I'm so unconfident when trying to portion toppings.

The gist if what she told me was this: I learn fast and I need to stop second guessing myself bc that slows me down and therefore slows the whole process down. And I was like yes I will accept this is true and try to do better. She also said she'd stop answering complicated questions I had, which I understood as anything that could not be answered with a yes or no.

So the weeks are going on and I learn several things about how this place works out.

I am short, shit is taller than me. I'm told to ask for help when I need it.

I quickly learn that when I ask for help, depending on what it is I'm asking for and how her mood is, P will get irritated as fuck with me for asking. Example: we have guides on how to build certain food items. Theres a lot of shit on the menu. The guides are very hard for me to reach. So when I ask for help getting a guide so I can try learning the build, I either get it tossed at me or I get told what to put on it in a disappointed or irritated tone. (Keep in mind I'm not being told the portioning for these toppings unless I ask for those too, to which I get an annoyed "I don't know off the top of my head.")

So I decided that if I have a question about what goes on what builds, I will try to list off all the toppings I remember and be like "that's what's on it right?" I figured this way they know I'm trying to learn them, I'm retaining at least SOMETHING, and if theres an ingredient or two off they can correct those.

Yeah the last time I did that P turned around and totally ignored me. And it turns out I was correct about all the toppings on it.

Now skip to about a week and a half ago, I'm finally learn how to stretch dough. Every time I have tried to stretch this shit has been during rush. At this point I have only worked rush shifts, which are shit for training, but when I've come in earlier I learn how to prep food, and so I literally dont get a lot of one on one time with someone who can actually sit there and train me. And when I DO have the chance to have one on one time, it's usually with P and she usually leaves me to make as much as possible while she goes to the back to chat with people who are waiting to take deliveries.

I end up getting so frustrated that I start taking shit out on myself, basically telling myself that I cant do anything right and that I've peaked and that I'm never going to get better. I tell P this and she tries halfheartedly to get me to breathe and keep going.

Mow skip to this week. I'm told I will close Monday and Tuesday (yesterday and the day before) I'm told I'll be trained how to close.

Monday comes up. I get there at 5:30. A gets thre at 5. We work thru rush and A tells me he will stay with me till P gets there around 10 just in case we get a night rush. Keep in mind this is P's day off and A had offered to help train me since he was already there.

So 10:30 rolls around and P finally shows up. She comes inside only to tell A he should have left at like 8 or 9. You know. Leaving me alone on my first closing night when I still cant make an entire one pizza on my own under 3-5 minutes.

So A leaves. One of the drivers is there bc he has to be (we can call him T). P tells T hes going to do most if not all the cleaning so she can show me how to do inventory and enter shit in the computer. She says when he finishes he can leave ahead of us bc we were (supposedly) going to be there for a few hours.

So for about 2 hours I'm told how to find things on the computer and finish inventory. Most of those two hours is just me entering shit in the computer or her talking on the phone with a friend.

At one point she says to T that shes just teaching me computer shit now, and on Tuesday she'd teach me how to break down and clean the area where all the food is.

At 12:30-12:45 she says shes going to leave and for me to call her when I'm done counting money so that she can tell me the rest of what I have to do. This sends off panic bells in my head. Not only has she NOT FINISHED TEACHING ME SHIT, I'm about to leave a store by myself in the middle of fucking nowhere with no overhead lights. I felt unsafe leaving the gamestop I worked at during the night even tho there were parking lot lights and usually small crowds at the walmart next door, and I never left that building by myself.

So I'm just ask "can T stay so I'm not leaving here by myself and I dont risk my safety?"

The response I got was basically P saying she forgot I was weak and fragile. So she decided to stay and fi nng ish helping me on the computer, which, btw, was another 15 minutes or so of her staying???

Also fun news I get at this point is that P will NOT be closing with me tuesday night. I'm on my fucking own with T! :)

So then I'm helping clean shit bc apparently we're behind (it's like 1 am at this point) and P (who did the entire food area by her damn self) finally leaves around 1:15. T has been really nice and stays with me to help me put the last of shit together before we leave.

I dont get home till 2 monday night.

Skip to tuesday night. I get in at 4:45. A and P are there. Ahas been told by P he MUST leave by 9. She leaves at like 6:30.

I learn a few things after she leaves from multiple people.

A has been here 2 years, and P not only stayed with him till 3 am breaking every little thing down and showing him everything, but he ALSO was given the opportunity to close with her for about 2 or 3 nights before he closed by himself.

I have been there an entire month and a half, got told how to do ALMOST everything ONE time, and the very next night I'm closibg hy myself.

I have trained for (almost) 2 hours how to close at this point. I dont know what the fuck I'm doing. I start getting order after order. The drivers are out doing their jobs so I'm literally in the whole store by myself trying to figure shit the fuck out bc i was basically left to fend for myself. Spoiler alert, I'm not very fucking good at this.

To make a long story short, a bunch of shit went wrong tuesday night. T is trying his best to help me learn things, but he doesnt know how to do everything bc hes not in a manager position. He even says to me at one point "it just seems like you've been set up to fail." Granted I was complaining about the fact that I didn't get fucking training, but he said that shit on his own. He pointed shit out that I had been thinking about.

Again, skip to about 3 am. I have my final call with P. She proceeds to tell me several things:

You should not be there more than an hour after close.

Your inventory variance should not be that high.

Just finish up what you're doing and leave, what's done is done and what's not is not.

Then she asks me "do you see what you need to improve on?"

At that point I nearly snapped. How the FUCK can I know what to improve on when theres no one there to give me fucking feedback?? I dont know what the fuck I'm doing. I literally scrambled all fucking night to ATTEMPT to do shit right which, apparently, it still wasnt good enough. I was given a whole ~2 hours to learn ALMOST everything to close. R doesnt get out when he closes till about 2 hours after the store closes, so why the fuck am I being picked on when I had fucking not even 2 whole hours of training?

I have never EVER told myself to quit without putting in a two weeks notice before. I'm going to talk to R about this shit before I just up and leave at this point. I'm attempting to find another job in the meantime but the toll that these past few weeks has had on my mental health is just fucking astounding. The last time I had that kind of a meltdown after work was a year ago when I worked at the fucking kennel and a dog got hurt and no one answered me.

Oh, btw, that kennel? The one owned privately by a single person, that wasnt a franchise or anything? Yeah, as much as those communication skills sucked, it was leagues better than the communication at this establishment I'm at now. And that's saying a fucking lot.

[ofsinnersandsaints]

nothing warmer than ‘i love you’

rating: M word count: 2424 one shot

AO3

Frank tells Karen he loves her for the first time

Karen came out of the shower with her hair still wet, wearing a black shirt which barely hit her mid-thigh.

Frank smiled when he saw it, remembered when she’d first brought it home and she’d been nearly giddy with laughter. She’d been walking home when she’d seen the vendor selling the black shirts with white skulls on them: Punisher merchandise.

Naturally, he couldn’t wear it, but Karen got to wearing it around the house and the first time he’d seen his mark on her chest he’d fucked her on the living room floor until the neighbors complained about the noise. He wasn’t overcome with lust just now, but it always made him smile to see her wear it.

“You’re cooking?”

“I figured it was better than letting you near the stove,” he teased. “For someone who worked at a diner for years, I’d think you’d be better be at it.”

“There was a reason I took orders,” she quipped back, pulling herself up on the counter. “I never forgot a face or an order. Foggy wants to know if you’re coming this weekend.”

Frank paused, knowing Karen had intentionally made the last comment sound casual to avoid pressuring him, but he also knew how much his answer meant to her. “Do I have to go?”

Her expression didn’t change at all but he thought he saw her eyes dim a little as she picked up one the peppers intended for the stir fry. “Of course not, I just… He’s trying, Frank, and that means a lot to me.”

Foggy was getting married and his engagement party was going to be a bash held at Josie’s-which proved just how much his fiancée love him. Karen was the best man and Foggy had told her she was more than welcome to bring her boyfriend.

When Karen had asked if he wanted to come Frank had been evasive; Foggy was hardly Frank’s biggest fan, even if he’d often been Frank’s biggest advocates. Franklin Nelson might have kicked ass as his attorney, but Frank knew the lawyer had to be dragged to the case kicking and screaming.

But that had been his reputation on the line, and now it was his friendship with Karen, which Frank knew was probably more important to Foggy than his job.

And Karen was more important to him than anything. He couldn’t very well tell her no, could he? “I’ll come.”

Her smile was bright and warm as she leaned forward to kiss him. “Thank you.”

He’d do just about anything to keep that smile on her face. “Is he going to remember to call me Pete?”

“Absolutely not,” Karen laughed, taking two more peppers and eating them like popcorn. “He’ll probably introduce you as ‘Karen’s guy’ to everyone he meets to avoid saying the wrong name.”

Frank laughed, “I’ve been called worse.”

“Cute.”

He took the pepper out of her hand, the fourth one she was trying to eat from the cutting board. “If you eat all the veggies there’s not going to be any left for dinner. Are going to head back to work tonight?”

Going back to the office after six pm wasn’t anything new because she tended to work herself to exhaustion and he didn’t try to stop her, she was a big kid and could make her own decisions, he just made sure she was fed and slept at least six hours.

Which was why he was cooking veggies and meat and not ordering take out for the third time this week.

“No, Ellison said if I came back to the office this weekend he’d fire me.” She leaned forward to try and steal a piece of steak but he swatted her hand away. “God, this smells good.”

“I thought he threatened to fire you yesterday.”

“He threatens to fire me everyday,” she clarified. “Some days he means it and some days he doesn’t. I think this time he might have meant it so I’m yours for the rest of the weekend.”

Frank glanced at the clock above the stove. “All six hours of it?”

She smiled and shrugged. “Have you gotten any more information from Dinah about the trip?”

Dinah had done some masterwork of bureaucratic nonsense and gotten him a kind of freelance job with Homeland. On occasion she would call him up for help; Frank told Karen it was basically SWAT work, and it mostly the truth. Since the foundation of their relationship was built on the fact that he always told her the truth, he didn’t lie to her about what he was doing, but he did downplay the danger involved.

And he was pretty sure she knew that. “We leave on Tuesday morning, should be back within 24 hours.”

“You’ll call me?”

Frank stood in front of her, keeping his gaze level on hers so she would see he was being honest. “As often as possible.”

“Is it weird that I hate you being in danger far away more than when you’re close by?”

He hated it too, and the more time he spent with Karen at his side, the less he liked leaving it. Hell, it had been almost a month since he’d gotten himself in any kind of serious scrape. “Maybe it’s because I’m too far away to yell at.”

She loosely wrapped her arms around his neck, “It is more fun scolding you to your face.”

Frank leaned forward and kissed her, nothing rush or hurried, because they had all the time in the world. He enjoyed these quiet moments when the rest of the world was held at bay, and even the violence which had brought them together couldn’t touch them. “You remember Schoonover?”

Karen snorted, “I think I remember him, yeah. Why?”

“Well, I think we can both agree he’s an asshole.”

“Was an asshole,” she reminded him with a sharp look which was a fraction of the anger she’d had that night in the woods. “What about him?”

“He may have been a terrible person, but he did say something to me that stuck back in the day. That our job was stressful, and heavy, and that everyone needed a chair.”

“A chair?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

Frank nodded, “A place to sit down, to set down your worries and destress from the job. For some people it’s scotch, or a book, or the boxing ring. You know what I figured out when you came in here just now?”

“That I need matching Punisher sweats to go with my shirt?”

“No,” he answered, wondering at the calmness in his chest. Awed by it. “I figured out you’re my chair.”

Her smile was small, but warm and soft so it filled him from the inside out. “That might be the most romantic thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

“Give me a second, and I’ll do you one better,” he promised. “I’m in love with you, Karen Page. And I figured I should tell you at some point because it doesn’t look like it’s going anywhere anytime soon.”

Karen’s eyes went wide, her mouth falling open just a little at the confession and then her lips curved into the most beautiful smile he’d ever seen. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

She reached out and ran a thumb over his cheek, “I love you, too.”

Overwhelmed because he didn’t think he’d ever get a chance to have this again Frank kissed her, this time with more than just the moment in mind. He buried his hands in her hair, enjoyed the feeling of the damp silk threading through his fingers.

She kissed him back with a littler more desperation, a little more want, and clutched at his shoulders. “Take me to bed, Frank.”

He didn’t need to be asked twice, he tugged on her ankle and getting the hint, she hooked her legs around his waist and he carried her from the kitchen to the bedroom, to the place they’d slept and loved each other every night for the past few months.

Technically he still kept a place in another part of the Kitchen but it was more safe house than anything else at this point.

This was home.

With her.

He laid her down on the comforter and kept on kissing her because he had hours until either of them needed to be anywhere. She reached up and tugged off his shirt, her fingers tracing old scars and new tattoos. Frank had always felt like a brute, but she always managed to make him feel like something else, something he didn’t have a word for.

Maybe it was loved.

He reluctantly stripped of her shirt, and happily tossed her underwear to the side so he access to all the smooth skin beneath. When he kicked off his sweats settled on top on her, the feel of her skin against his was a familiar feeling but it still got him going every damn time.

He wanted to remember everything about this moment, how nothing was rushed or frantic between them. This was not the time for rough hands or dirty talk, instead it was all soft touches and easy sighs as they loved each other.

He kissed her on the mouth, the cheek, the lovely length of her neck and down her body to crest her over that first climax with lips and tongue. She said his name a benediction, her fists clenched in the pretty pastel comforter that always slid around on the bed while they slept.

Frank felt her peak and sigh, her body going liquid beneath his hands.

When one of their phones rang they both ignored the sound, preferring instead to stay wrapped in each other.

She guided him with soft sounds and sharp breaths and he followed the road map she created for him, enjoying every inch of the journey. When he was done tasting the heat of her he rose up above her, looking down at her. Her hair was going to dry in a mess and she was going to complain about it later, but loved how she looked just now in that moment.

“Say it again,” Frank asked as he settled between her thighs.

“I love you,” she whispered, her hands touching every inch of him she could reach. “I love you.”

“I never thought I’d get so lucky,” he confessed as worked through them both up towards a quiet and easy pleasure with hands and teeth and pressure.

“It’s not luck,” Karen assured him as she ran her hand down the back of his neck, pressing her lips to his jaw and throat. “We deserve this, Frank. We earned it.”

And he couldn’t argue with that.

They’d fought to be where they were; they’d both clawed their way out of darkness and despair, fighting against guilt and depression.

Falling in love hadn’t been luck, and it certainly hadn’t been easy.

In fact, Frank thought as Karen slid over that second climax, falling in love had been the hardest thing for either of them to do.

She dug her heels into the mattress as she arched against him, fingers digging into the muscles of his back and he wanted to give her as much as she’d given him. He wanted to kiss her for every scar she’d healed, for every reason he’d had to smile in the past few years.

For the rest of his life he wanted to make sure she was happy, protected, and loved.

Frank didn’t want there every to be a moment where Karen wondered if she was wanted, if she was needed, because she was everything to him.

Wild, reckless, curious, dangerous Karen Page.

His Karen Page.

Just as he was hers.

He could feel his own orgasm building at the base of his spine, could feel his own control slipping and he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep himself in check.

“Hold on to me,” he whispered as he wrapped her close.

She did as he asked, wrapping her legs around his body, her arms around his neck, and when he spent himself inside it was a different kind of release than he’d ever experienced before.

Karen was pressing her lips to his as he came too, and spoke to him between kisses. “We forgot to turn the stove off. I think dinner’s ruined.”

“Fuck,” Frank answered, more out of a knee jerk response than any actual anger. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever be angry again. “Guess you’re going to have to make dinner tonight.”

She grinned. “Then I’m definitely making Thai food.”

“I’ll get your phone.”

But she didn’t let him go so he could get up, instead she held on tighter. “It can wait, Frank. I want to hold onto this a little bit longer.”

He brushed a hand down her back. “It’s not going anywhere, Karen. I’m not going anywhere. And the smoke detector’s going to start screaming in a second.”

With a reluctant sigh she let him go and he got up to turn off the stove, then picked up their phones to see who had called-her phone didn’t show any missed calls but his did.

“That’s not a good look,” Karen commented as he came into the bedroom. “Who called?”

“Matt.”

Her brows furrowed. After coming back from the dead Matt had been distant at best, and Karen still hadn’t quite forgiven him all the way for lying to her again. And because he was on Karen’s side first and foremost, he hadn’t quite forgiven Red either. “Did he call me or you?”

“Me,” he pulled up the message and read the voicemail Matt had left. “He needs my help.”

“Tonight?”

“Now.”

She took a deep breath and reached for her shirt, pulling it on as she walked towards him. “Okay.”

Frank looked up at her, surprised. “That’s it?”

“What do you want me to say? If Matt called you for help, he needs help.”

“Okay.” He turned and went to the closet, pulling down his gear as Karen texted Matt back saying he was on his way. “I’ll call you as soon as I know more about what’s going on.”

“I love having the exclusive,” she teased as she handed him his phone back and it almost made him smile because they were now both wearing his signature white skull. “Be safe.”

“Of course.” He framed her face and kissed her. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

And off to the darkness he went, carrying a piece of the light with him.

Karen loved him.

[ajokeformur-ray]

(my matchup info)) i'm bi, a londoner and i have loong dark brown hair, bright blue eyes and pale-ish kinda skin with light brown freckles on my cheeks and nose. i like playing sims 4, playing w my cats and binge watching Netflix. i love!! music and have a pretty good voice, my favourite artist is Lana Del Rey but i also like Lady Gaga, die antwoord, and 00s pop girl music e.g Britney Spears (don't shame me lolol). im quite smart but peaked a few years ago which is quite depressing lol. p1

pt. 2 speaking of I have depression and anxiety and take meds for both. im sarcastic, quiet, easily annoyed, funny and am a top tier shitposter. fr my feed is constantly full of memes. I’m almost always on some form of social media. im drawn to darker people and villainous characters despite being the opposite lmao. i put on a confident, independent front but inwardly im v insecure and easily manipulated if u can get past my front. i use humour/disinterest as a defence and hate looking weak. thank u!

Fandoms asked for (over two combined requests): Game of Thrones, Once Upon a Time, Yuri!!! On Ice, American Horror Story, Twilight, Death Note, The Vampire Diaries. 

Death Note: Mello (Mihael Keehl)

Mello games and you play Sims 4 so sitting next to each other on your individual consoles would be how the two of you spend lazy days and quiet evenings together. You have a varied taste in music which is actually quite dark (Lana Del Ray) and inspiring/iconic (Lady Gaga) whereas Mello just likes heavy music which, when played at peak volume, thrums through your rib cage and echoes in your heartbeat. Between Mello’s explosive temper and your depression and anxiety, things can be tense. He snaps at you sometimes without thinking and you may retreat from him all together as a result. Show him your latest memes, though, and he’ll huff a reluctant laugh through his nose, breaking the ice. He’s not big on apologies even when he’s wrong but even so he’ll silently apologise in only one way: he’ll give (not just share) you one of his most expensive, preferred chocolate bars. Overall, he’d be one of your biggest comforts and vice versa. Just knowing that he’s watching the CCTV live of you walking down a dark or isolated street to make sure that you get home okay makes you feel a little warmer. Even when he’s pissed as hell at you or something else, he won’t let you go to bed feeling alone in a bad way. It’d be an explosive kinda love ;) [inappropriate death joke lmao not sorry]

American Horror Story (AHS): Violet Harmon

Violet would adore you. There would be some tensions because she’s quite abrasive (and rightly so, in some cases) but also because you both have depression, though you also have anxiety and you both put up fronts to hide yourselves. That’s likely how you bond - with Violet confessing to you one hot summer’s day that she “hates everything” and the whole situation with her parents. She can rant for hours when you leave her to it, just listening. Sometimes you share a part of yourself. You’re quite a talkative couple, but only in private. If there are people around, it’s obvious you’re together but there’s no set reason that they can see. Vivien and Ben have, generally, never seen their daughter so animated; you only bring good to Violet’s life. You’re both sarcastic and easily annoyed so any arguments are basically just really accurate roasting sessions until one of you hits a nerve (and then it stops because Violet just leaves to go somewhere - you never know where) or you’re both laughing. In this way, there are moments in your relationship that are hard to stomach. Watching mindless TV shows on Netflix and cuddling is a good way to break any ice that lays between you; Violet would make acerbic comments about something the lead has done and you’d listen, always able to tell if something more is under the surface. The similarities between the two of you creates your relationship; you see yourselves in each other and only want to help as best as you can.

The Vampire Diaries (TVD): Damon Salvatore 

Damon would be very protective of you. You don’t like appearing weak but even when you’re down and sobbing on your knees, your body unable to hold you up anymore, Damon’s never thought you looked stronger. It takes strength to show weakness, even when you’re alone. If you ever forgot to take your meds, Damon would stand over you in with a glass of water in one hand and your meds in the other, that passive-aggressive look on his face. He’d watch you take them, arms folded, and then he’d give you a steamy kiss that leaves your toes curling for the rest of the day. Damon pretends to have no feelings because it’s easier and you put up a front. However, because Damon can’t shut off his humanity without forgetting his love for you, so he has to face his humanity which means he begins to feel guilt and everything that’s already there if he wants to feel it, which he doesn’t but… He does eventually. Because of you. You are the good in his life.You have similar defence mechanisms so it’s not unusual for one of you to walk into a room, see the other and immediately say “stop doing that” or “don’t do that” - no one else can tell that Damon is pretending, except you and Stefan. Similarly, it’ll be the brothers who can tell that you’re pretending. The contrast of your long dark hair and your bright blue eyes would be what drew Damon to you and I feel like he’d call you his “little siren” because of that. As such, he comes to understand that it wasn’t Katherine he’s been looking for all this time…

… It was you.

Twilight: Edward Cullen 

You caught Edward’s attention by singing one day. He was just passing by, skipping Biology (blood work) and he heard you singing. He hadn’t meant to tune in to your radio station but sometimes he couldn’t help it. And you did have a lovely voice. He would likely buy some of the same albums that you own so that he could get to know you through music. Over time, he would learn to just intuitively tune in to your radio station and he’d hear your thoughts - this is a promise he would make to himself to not do once you’re friends and then dating and he’d definitely stick to it. He’s conveniently free on sunny days so you’d spend those days watching Netflix with a blanket around your body to protect you from his ice cold one (it’d be really hard to explain away catching a cold during a heatwave) and he’d press kisses into your hair, your kitty purring away just above your shoulders. Though Edward would do his best to not listen to your thoughts, on your worst days some of them drift through his mind and he’d take your hand tightly and say “Don’t” or “That’s not true.” He’d try so hard to help you; I think, pre-Bella, he also has depression so he’d do his best to help you because he knows what it’s like, and not just because he can hear you.

Yuri!!! On Ice: Victor Nikiforov

Victor would have such a loving relationship with you. Ohh, he’d try so hard to make you smile each and every day. When he’s not on the ice competing or eating way more food than he should be able to consume in one sitting (seriously, where does it go? Does his stomach start in his toes?), he’s curled up with you on the sofa watching something you want to watch on Netflix, Hulu or whatever else you use. He doesn’t mind what you watch, so long as you do it together. You love to shitpost and you love memes, and Victor loves taking pictures of the most obscure things so between the two of you, your followers are well fed! You’re always texting each other memes, jokes and sending pictures to each other with cryptic captions or song lyrics attached, making the other person burst out laughing in strange places like the ice rink or a classroom. You have more of a jokey relationship than a serious one, though that’s in abundance when either of you have depression or anxiety flare up. In any case, bed time is always met with gentle touches, soft smiles and careful reassurances. Even, and most especially, when you’re angry at each other. Love is never so important as it is during the bad times.

Once Upon A Time (OUAT): Regina Mills

It would be really touch and go to date Regina for a while. It would be very challenging and many people, including her and in your darkest times, yourself, would tell you that she’s not worth it. That you’re not worth it. But you’re all wrong. She is so, so worth it. Once she splits from the Evil Queen, once she grows into herself and grows into the Charming family, once she overcomes her abusive childhood and comes to love herself, she is a ray of sunshine and she glows. I’ve always loved and been so proud of Regina, and you would be too. You both put on fronts to protect yourself and you’re both very convincing so a lot of the time, the two of you have to mentally step back and see what the other is really thinking. Luckily, you know each other very well so it’s not hard to see when either of you are feeling especially insecure or unwell. Regina would literally rip her heart in half if it meant saving you, and at times she’s risked her life for you. She lives for your cuddles, especially when her many duties as a mum, a mayor etc. get on top of her and she just needs a break. You bring her back to herself time and again, and she will always do her utmost to return the favour to you. You have a strong, loving relationship underneath it all. It just takes patience and a special bond to be able to see it from the outside.

Game Of Thrones (GOT): Joffrey Baratheon

Joffrey is the most villainous person on this matchup. I was very hesitant to match you with him, I really was, but some of the others on this list are almost as bad. So. I think your personality would have a more positive effect on him. Cersei got her claws as far into him as she could, but even once she tried to reason with him and keep him reined in, he was too far gone for her to be able to help. But you... Mm. I think you’d have a similar impact on him to Margaery. You put on a front to protect yourself and this would be what Joffrey would listen to... to begin with. Once you’re properly courting and Joffrey is able to see what you don’t say; he would soften. He would still kill and be an utterly evil piece of work, but he would exercise more mercy. He would still wrongfully torment Tyrion, but he would draw a line when you start anxiously tugging on his sleeve. He doesn’t cuddle, mocking the action all together, but then one day he walks in on you curled up in bed reading a book and he just can’t resist curling around you, an arm slung over your shoulders to possessively keep you beside him. It would be a tumultuous, dangerous relationship but then... it’s Westeros, what do you expect?

There!!!! I hope you enjoyed! <3333 If there’s any you dislike, please let me know and I’ll make some changes x

[mx-metronome]

Say, remember when I posted Thorton and I said I also planned on including a short essay about my art and true satisfaction? Well I have a few hours to kill before bed, so here is that essay. (Read More doesn’t work on mobile, I am so sorry)

I’ll start with establishing that everyone has that art. That one medium that really makes them happy, that sincerely drives them to improve if for no other reason than to learn and delve deep into their craft. Music, painting, knitting, it doesn’t matter.

Some pursue an art for the sake of wanting to impress others, then get frustrated when it doesn���t come easy. For them, practice is painful, and no enjoyment comes of it. It feels like a chore to them. But once they find that art, they stop caring about recognition, and they stop attaching their self worth to how skilled they are in that art.

My art is cross stitch. It has been for nearly a decade. Through all my years of high school, I desperately wanted to be good at something so that other people would like me. I wanted to define myself as an individual for everyone to see. Then one fateful day in April 2010, I picked up cross stitch, but not for any of the reasons above: I started because I felt it was something that I would truly enjoy. I always fancied pixel art, and I wanted to do something with my hands instead of a computer screen, so it felt natural to pick it up.

Right away, my life improved. I forgot about most of my social insecurities, and my self esteem began to climb. I started off small, with little pixel arts like Pokémon and Mario characters. The projects got bigger over time, but not big enough that I felt overwhelmed. I had a small part time job my senior year, and it paid well; I took all that money I made and immediately blew it on more supplies. Slowly, my collection of fabric, floss, and needles grew. My patterns started to as well, as I was itching to extend my skill as far as I could imagine. For the first six years, everything was fantastic.

Somewhere down the line, things changed. As I graduated college and my mental state worsened, I took steps backward back into my high school years when I was so concerned about what others thought of me. My projects got so absurdly large that it took so much energy to finish them, but I worked so hard to impress people.

At first, it worked: Barista Klug (2017) is a perfect example of this. Going into this doozy of a project, my heart was in the right place for the first three months, but as winter turned to late spring, my depression symptoms became severe. There were a handful of days where I couldn’t even move from my bed, the first days of their kind. My passion was dying, and it was frustrating to me. Cross stitch slowly ceased to be fun.

I saw him to his completion, but I was coping with a lot of stress at the time, so he didn’t feel as satisfying to finish as I had imagined. After I posted him on tumblr, and he didn’t get the notes on here that I felt reflected my efforts, things only got worse. I continued to start new, overambitious projects in an attempt to get people to notice me; I felt like a little fame and recognition would help me feel not so alone. But of the four or five massive projects I have started since, none of them have even come close to getting done.

Over the next year, the stitching just...stopped. I started a few more projects, sincerely believing a few times that my stitch itch had come back, but it never lasted long enough. I wasn’t doing anything with my hands, nothing was keeping my mind at bay. One particular day in 2017 stands out to me as the worst depression day ever, but the entirety of 2018 was my worst depression year. I was artistically stagnant, and although I knew cross stitching could be my saving grace, I never had the motivation to do it.

I finished a single cross stitch for the whole of 2018: a small, quick one of Ralsei from Deltarune, in a desperate attempt for stitching to fix my broken soul. Even though he wasn’t nearly as overwhelming a project, I stitched him for the wrong reasons: he was easy notes. It was another difficult time in my life, and I needed the attention.

This year, 2019, I feel is when I started to improve. I took a semester off of school to mentally heal, and in this momentary ceasefire, I tried to pick up cross stitch again through another overambitious project, Agent 9 the monkey. Upon completion, he will stand as my cross stitch project with the second most number of stitches, so he’s no picnic! Like Barista Klug, things were smooth for the first 3 or 4 months, but he’s since gone under hiatus, just like the rest, and I haven’t picked him up since.

So where did I go wrong? I asked myself for years. Why doesn’t this make me happy anymore? Why was I so satisfied with my work in my youth, but now I hate the mere thought of it? Saying it all aloud now, I’m certain the answer is crystal clear to all of you. But I wanted to pinpoint an answer in hopes of pursuing my craft so relentlessly and with wild abandon like I did a decade ago. I wanted a signal in this darkness...

After almost four years of complete darkness and confusion, at the end of June 2019, I received my signal. Still coping with my depression, I heard a new Pokémon game was coming out for mobile, and one of my fav (and super obscure) characters of all time would be in the core game. The clouds started to lift as my heart attached itself to an old lost fandom, granting me an urge, one that can only be granted by pure, distilled hype.

Enter Factory Head Thorton.

I knew I HAD to cross stitch him, to encapsulate the spirit that I hadn’t felt in so long. But this time, I did things differently: Why make a giant pattern with all the intricate details when this guy has sprites from the DS era, sprites that are easily transposable into a cross stitch pattern? I knew his sprite was small enough that I could finish him before school was back in session, but I’d have to work fast.

While I was working on the spritework for the pattern one July night, I had to pause and cry about it. To this day I am uncertain what triggered it, but working on this pattern filled me with such a raw happiness, the likes of which I’d never felt before. I was feeling true contentment for the first time in over half a decade, and I couldn’t contain my relief. As I began the stitching itself, that contentment carried over into my handiwork. I wasn’t stitching him because it would be a quick grab for notes (he’s obscure enough of a character as it is); I was making this stitching for myself, just a little something tangible that I made with my two hands. (If I ever came off as though notes on him were important to me, it was less for fame and more for shooting a flare into a dormant corner of a fandom and hoping I could make some new connections.)

Yeah, I felt satisfaction completing most of my other projects, but Thorton hit differently: Yeah, finishing him felt good, but working on him from start to finish felt even better, something I didn’t feel with Barista Klug or Ralsei. It was a sensation that sent me all the way back to high school, when I felt genuine passion and excitement in every stitch I made. This project was a meditation, almost a time capsule, even though I had only made the pattern a month prior.

From 2016 and on, none of my projects sparked joy. Thorton sparked joy, from beginning to end. So where did I lose my way? Well, I narrowed it down to two basic characteristics.

I think it was the spritework, what I suppose could be considered my traditional style when I first started in 2010. I moved away from sprites in 2015 or so, and it was about then that my art career started downhill. But going back to that style felt so perfect and ethereal, like it’s what I was always meant to do. I was very passionate about Barista Klug, but he wasn’t done in my old-timey sprite style.

Another contributing factor is likely whether or not I’m passionate about the subject and, by extension, whether I’m making the piece for attention over personal enjoyment. Am I considering how much I love that which I am stitching, or am I thinking about how much more people will love me once I’m done? Ralsei was indeed a sprite, but I made him for quick notes, seeing as I started and finished him while Deltarune was still at its peak popularity.

For the first time in nearly a decade, I stitched something that met both criteria, and it felt so powerful. I’m definitely taking this analysis to heart, and I aspire to pursue more projects like Thorton in the foreseeable future.

.........I say as I have already gathered $100 of materials for another HUGE latch hook project... Shame I figured this out a month too late, I suppose.

[tanyawrites]

You Can See Me?

A/N: Ok...I know. I’ve been absent a long time. BUT....I have been in school and I just graduated, so maybe I’ll be having more time to write. This is something I wrote for a class a year ago. I forgot about it when my computer busted. So, here’s a little something. I don’t think i’ll continue, but if people want it, I’ll certainly try. I got the idea from a pinterest pin: At first, they held panic, then they darkened. “You can see me? The rest is my imagination. Happy reading!

Triggers: Car accident but not much detail, mentions of a dead pet

 I sighed as I waited for the bus for the third week in a row. I missed my car and missed the ability to stop for coffee on my way to work. But unfortunately, I was out of luck. I’d been in a bad accident a few weeks ago, one that should have killed me but somehow hadn’t. The good news: I walked away practically unscathed. The bad news: my car was completely totaled. I sighed again, wallowing in self-pity. Yeah, I was grateful and blessed to be alive, but I couldn’t help but feel depressed at my lack of personal transportation.

               Well, there was one bright side to having to suffer through public transformation. He sat at the very back of the bus every day and stared out the window with eyes that I could only imagine were breathtaking. He had dark almost black hair and looked like he was probably taller than me. Sometimes he’d glance down at a book he carried in his lap, like he was contemplating something deeply about the books characters. I happened to peak at it once, when he was looking away and saw that it was Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban. This didn’t help that small crush that I had because that was my absolute favorite of the series. Everyday, as I waited for the bus, I talked myself up to saying hello, but everyday I chickened out.

               The bus pulled up beside the stop and opened the door. I bid a good morning to the bus driver, who merely grunted in response, and made my way back. I sat across from him, telling myself that I was going to say hello today. I couldn’t chicken out. The insurance money for my car would be coming soon so I was running out of time. He sat there, staring out the window as always, all the while seemingly ignoring me. I took a deep breath.

               “Hi, my name is – “

               He startled and stared at me with wide eyes. At first, they held panic, then they darkened. “You can see me?”

               I was confused. “I – what? Of course, I can see you!” I subtly pinched myself to make sure I was awake. “As clearly as Harry saw the Grim.” I was hoping the reference would lighten the mood, when, in reality, I was nervous and not the good kind either. Was this guy off his meds or something?

               His eyes, if it were possible, got even wider. “Oh man, this is bad. This is so bad.” He shoved his hands into his hair, the book, long forgotten, falling to the floor with a small thud. “I’m in so much trouble.”

               I looked around the mostly empty bus, wondering if anyone else was seeing this exchange. However, everyone seemed to be lost in their own minds. I glanced back to the guy who was obviously in need of medical attention. “Look,” I said. “Let me help you. I’ll be right back.”

               I got up and walked up to the driver. I sat in the seat behind her and cleared my throat. “Uh, excuse me, ma’am.” She grunted in response. “That man in the back, I think he’s sick. I think he needs help. The very back seat on the right.” She looked back then looked back at me with a funny look on her face.

               “What man?” She asked, suspiciously. She thought I was the one who was crazy. I looked in the mirror as if to point him out but gasped. He wasn’t there. I turned around to see if I was really seeing what I was seeing, and there he was. Clear as the day is long. But when I glanced back in the mirror, there was nothing.

               I cleared my throat again. “Excuse me. I must have dozed off.” I said robotically. I got back up and walked back to my seat. Ok, so maybe I was sleeping. I mean, this probably means I have been reading too many ghost stories. I sat back on the seat and saw that the man was still slightly panicked.

               I cleared my throat once more. “Ok, so, I’m apparently dreaming. If you would allow me to wake up, I’ll see you on the real bus.” I poked at my arm and my face, hoping to knock myself back into consciousness. But all I had managed to do was leave little bruises on my peach-like skin. I could feel the panic starting to rise. Was I the one going crazy? Was I losing my mind? Did that accident leave me in a coma? Did residual effects of the accident leave me in a coma? I tried to come up with a logical explanation, but it was proving a lot harder than expected. “Wait….Are you dead?” I whispered.

               He sighed. “Ok. First off: You’re not crazy. Secondly: I’m not crazy, nor am I dead. Thirdly: If you would calm down for a moment, I can figure a way out of this mess.”

               I laughed. “What mess? I’m obviously losing my mind, and we’re almost at my stop! How the heck am I supposed to go to work like this? I can’t!” I could feel my breath becoming shallow from the fear. I didn’t understand what was going on. “Either I’m crazy or you’re dead. Literally no other explanation.

               His eyes softened at that. “I promise you’re not crazy and that I’m as alive as, well, alive. That’s all you need to know at this point.” His eyes met mine. “I promise you’re not losing your mind, that you’re a completely normal 23-year-old.” He thought for a moment. “Well, normal for you, I suppose.”

               I glared at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

               He sighed again. “Ok. Ok. I’m going about this all wrong. I will explain to you, but you have to trust me.” He made me look him in the eye as if he could will me with his mind to calm down. “Can you trust me?”

               His blue eyes looked so sincere, that I could feel myself nodding before I could even think about it. “Ok.” I was broken out of my trance when I started to feel the bus slowing down. I looked out the window to see where we were and found it was my stop.

               “How are you going to find me?” I was still hyper aware of those deep, intense blue eyes. “Do you even know my name? I mean, why wouldn’t you? You knew my age!” How did he know my age? Maybe it was a lucky guess.

               “Trust me.” He said. His eyes were beginning to grow a little panicky again. “I’ll figure it out. Just give me some time.” He turned away from me, staring out the window again. “You have to go.”

               I put my bag over my shoulder and stood up. “Ok. Not like I really have much of a choice anyway. I can’t just call into work and say “Hey, I think I found a ghost thingy on the bus and now I’ve gone mental.” I was rambling. But what else was I supposed to do?

               He nodded. “Oh. One more thing. You have to go on pretending that you didn’t see me and that I didn’t talk to you. Go about your day as if it’s a normal day.”

               I quirked a brow at him. “Okay.” I replied slowly. It’s not like anyone would believe me anyway. I walked up front, without looking back and smiled weakly at the bus driver. She gave me that same funny look as if I’d been the one off my meds. I tried to ignore it and walked off in the direction of my workplace. This was going to be an interesting day.

               I got out of work at a decent hour and made my way home, my experience this morning in the back of my mind. I was becoming apprehensive about what I was supposed to be learning soon, the ghost theory still the most prominent explanation.

               Once inside my apartment, I checked the voicemail on the receiver, finding it was from the insurance company, telling me that I was only getting a portion of what I’d expected. I groaned in frustration. Which means I wouldn’t be able to afford a new car for a while. I was stuck riding public transportation. My thoughts brought me full circle, back to the man on the bus. The clock on the wall read four thirty-seven. Maybe a little nap would calm my jumbled thoughts. I covered myself with a blanket on the couch and was out like a light within minutes.

               “You mumble in your sleep.” Said a voice by my head. I shrieked and jumped up, ready to defend myself from anything that might be wishing me harm. The man from the bus sat there on my coffee table, watching me with a look of amusement. I pressed a hand to my heart, hoping to calm it’s erratic beating, and took deep breaths to calm the rest of me.

               “How the heck did you get in my house?” I asked, suspicious of the whole thing. “Why did you come in my house? Were you watching me sleep?” I could hear my voice getting hysterical. Who could blame me? I had just been startled awake with some….person….studying me in my sleep.

               “The ‘how’ isn’t important at the moment. Let’s talk about that after I’ve told you what I promised to tell you.”

               I nodded, then sat back down on the couch. This is what I’d been waiting for all day. “Spill.” I demanded.

               He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair, then stood up and began to pace. “Ok.” He said. “Ok.” He turned to face me then took a deep breath. “I’m your guardian angel.”

               All I cold do was stare. Then I burst out laughing. “Right, right. My guardian angel!” I managed to choke out between laughs. “Because that’s more believable than being a ghost.”

               He frowned. “I’m not joking. I’m really your guardian angel.” I giggled a little after the second time but tried to stifle them, as he seemed to be getting frustrated.

               “What do you mean you’re my guardian angel?” I asked.

               “I mean,” He said “that I’m here to protect you when you can’t protect yourself. How do you think you walked away so easily from that car accident?”

               I froze. How did he know about that? “You heard about that in the news. You can’t use that as proof.”                “You swerved to avoid hitting a dog, because you couldn’t bear the thought of someone losing their beloved pet the way you had.”

               I felt a chill go to the very core of my being. That wasn’t in the news. I’d never told anyone about that, when they asked why I didn’t just hit the dog, saving myself in the process. What I’d told everyone who asked was that it was a kneejerk reaction. That I hadn’t thought about it, didn’t have time to think about it. But in reality, I was remembering being a kid and being told that someone had hit my poor defenseless pet, practically part of the family, and how utterly heart shattering that is. I couldn’t bear to let anyone else go through that.

               “How do you know that?” I asked slowly.

               “I’m you’re guardian angel. I know just about everything. Especially when you’re screaming it in your mind.” His blue eyes, staring intently, looking desperate to make me believe. After his last reveal, I was starting to think he really was my guardian angel. I mean, how else would I still be alive after totaling my car to such an extent? I ran a hand down my face.

               “So, you’re my guardian angel. Do you even have a name?” I couldn’t call him angel or man or dude forever, or however long he decided to stick around.

               “Orion.”

               I held out my hand. “Emery. But you can call me Em.” He took my hand and shook it. “Ok, so you’re my guardian angel. And you protect me. How come you’ve never shown up before now?”

               Orion looked confused. “I don’t know.” As I waited for him to say more, I thought back on all the things that have happened to me. Falling off the rope in gym class, tripping over the sidewalk in heels, running into walls, falling up the stairs after a long day, the list went on and never once did Orion come down to stop me.

               “Where have you been my entire life?” I asked, somewhat annoyed.

               He groaned. “Look. This doesn’t work how you think it works. When you’re born, the Man upstairs assigns one angel to look after you for the duration of your lifetime. We’re supposed to interfere until He tells us that it’s your time to join him. But we only save you from outside influences. We can’t save you from yourself. You just happen to be clumsy and not very athletic.”

               My mouth tightened in annoyance. “Clumsy or not, they couldn’t be helped. And what about the sidewalk or the stairs or the heels or the trunk of my car?” I unconsciously rubbed my head where I’d hit it last month, shutting the lid of the trunk.

               “You wore heels. You’re clumsy. You’re absentminded. Put the pieces together.” He once again had that look of amusement on his face. “Anyway, guardian angels aren’t supposed to show their charges that they exist, at least not until it’s time to pass over.” When I didn’t respond he continued to explain. “To the other side. Dead.”

               I rolled my eyes. “I know that.”

               “The fact that you can see me means I’m so royally screwed that I’ll probably lose my job and be given work elsewhere or a brand-new charge altogether. And let me tell you, babies are pretty boring to watch over when they don’t do anything. Especially when all they do is cry and eat and sleep. Anyway, my point is that you’re never supposed to know we exist.”                “But lots of people believe you exist.”

               “That’s different from actually physically seeing us.” He sighed in frustration. “I just don’t know why you can see me or what to even do about it now.” He put his head in his hands. “I’m in so much trouble.”

[mf-despair-queen]

Cheer Up, Buttercup - Stuart Twombly

Author: @mf-despair-queen​

Characters: Stuart Twombly/Reader

Word Count: 2,871

Warnings: Fluffy Goodness

Notes: @ninja-stiles was having a bad day, so I told her I would write her some fluffy goodness to cheer her up. I hope this cheers you up, babe. Remember, you mean the world to us. Don’t ever forget that. PS. This is NOT proofread because it’s 5:30 and I need sleep. WHOOPS.

A heavy sigh left your lips and you jogged up the stairs to the Team Lyle workroom, already an hour late. You were mentally trying to prepare for the earful Lyle would deliver before apologizing profusely for being a bad manager or some shit. Just another thing to add to your list of problems: Trying to convince Lyle he isn’t the loser manager he will claim he is.

You were thankful you had the job in the first place. You were sure walking into the Google headquarters on the first day of the internship that you were not going to make the cut. You weren’t nearly smart enough as the others, or so you always believed. Your whole life was one rough patch after another, your self-confidence dwindling into a pile of confetti that was blown to the wind long ago. You hated that aspect of yourself honestly, but after years of being overlooked by others, it takes a toll on your mind.

The first time you sat in the room with Lyle and the “leftovers,” you lost the only remaining hope you had. You had gone unnoticed by the others in the internship during the team selection process, inevitably added to the group of misfits you sat with now. The way everyone interacted depressed you greatly, and you felt that overwhelming feeling of not belonging.

You were surprised when you began to connect to the others over the time in the internship, especially your favorite glasses-wearing nerd by the name of Stuart Twombly. You were, for reasons unbeknownst to you, the first person he truly talked to, putting his phone down so he could have a proper conversation with you. You slowly warmed up to the goofball, a small glimmer of hope filling your insides.

Your mood improved over time, peaking when you were announced as the winners of the internship. For the first time in forever things seemed to be looking up. You had developed friendships that you felt could last forever. You had experienced things not many college kids could say they have done. You had gotten a job at Google. I mean seriously, how cool is that?

The best, but also worst, feeling you had discovered over time had been your growing crush on Stuart. You always felt this twinge in your gut when you were near him, your insides fluttering whenever he wrapped his arms around you in a hug. Warmth spread through your body when he held your hand under the table during lectures, though your dubbed it as a sign of an intense friendship, assuring yourself he would never like you more than a friend. You continuously ignored the spark you felt whenever his skin met yours, a tingly sensation running through your being, and your heart hammering against your chest whenever your eyes met his. So, the night you wound up in a strip club instead of a dance club showed you the truth.

It started out perfectly fine, sharing shots with the team, relaxing as a means of team bonding. But it all changed when Billy and Nick started arranging for Yoyo and Stuart to have lap dances. You slunk off to the side, biting t your nail eagerly, eyes transfixed on the beanieless head of Stuart. Neha sauntered over, nudging your side, giving you a look.

“What?” You asked, never taking your eyes off the boy across the club, noting the crooked glasses from the frenzy of the lap dance.

“You know what,” Neha retorted, your head finally turning to her. “You like him, girly. And you’re jealous right now.”

You snickered lowly, shaking your head. “We’re just friends, Neha. Nothing more, nothing else.”

“You want it to be more, though,” she mumbled. You stayed silent, turning your head back to Stuart. Neha watched you gnaw on your lip before finally grabbing your arm, tugging you away to the bathroom. You stumbled in the heels you were wearing, Neha slamming the door shut behind you. She shoved you against the sink, crossing her arms. “Alright, spill. You and Stuart, go.”

You shrugged, fingers drumming against the counter. “There is nothing to say, Neha. We are just friends!” You told her, ignoring her gaze. “He is just a friend that makes me very happy.”

Neha sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Alright, let me try to dissect this problem. I’ve read enough fanfiction and hentai to know when a girl has feelings for a guy,” she huffed aloud, looking at you up and down. “Tell me if you are exhibiting any of the follow symptoms. Fluttery feeling in your gut? Happiness when you are around him? A spark when he touches you? Rapid beating of the heart whenever you see the biggest dick of our team?” You nodded at each of her items, Neha’s mouth falling open, slightly squealing. “Girl, you got a ginormous case of “I’m crushing on Stuart Twombly” and I hate to tell you this, but there is no cure.”

You rolled your eyes, pushing yourself off the counter. “You’re insane. I do not, in any shape or form have a crush on Stuart. Now can we get back out there and dance before the guys get us kicked out? Because you know they will fuck up at some point.”

Neha sighed, following you out of the bathroom. You took long strides towards the couches your team had gotten earlier, Stuart now alone, drinking a beer. His eyes locked with yours, smiling as he pulled the bottle from his lips. A dark blush spread across your cheeks as he waved, your thoughts drifting to how sexy he looked when he was drinking. You stopped in your tracks, outside of Stuart’s earshot. Neha stopped beside you, looking at your face closely.

“Neha,” you whispered, her head cocking to the side. “I hate when you’re right. I like Stuart Twombly.”

You kept your feelings on the down low, ignoring the burning hole in your heart whenever you looked at him sitting across from you at work. You tried taking the year back at school after the internship to sort out your feelings, silently praying they would vanish. But whenever his name popped up with a new text, or you would agree to skype him, those feelings would return, stronger every time. You were in deep, and there was no escaping.

Neha was right. There was no cure for this.

Now, back to today. Today was the type of day that anything and everything went wrong. You were on the verge of a mental breakdown and you had only been awake for a few hours. It was only ten A.M., and you had the rest of the day cramped in Team Lyle’s office to deal with more pitfalls you were bound to crash into.

All heads snapped in your direction when you slunk into the office, Lyle’s face holding a prominent frown. “You’re late. What happened? You didn’t even call,” he rambled. You muttered an apology, sitting in your desk chair, placing your stuff on your desk. “Are you alright, Y/N? Am I being a bad-“

You cut him off, shaking your head profusely. “You are not a bad manager. Don’t even start. I’m just… having a very bad morning. I would have called if my phone decided it didn’t want to fall out of my pocket as I got into my car this morning,” you told him, holding up the broken phone, screen shattered into a million pieces.

Lyle nodded, assuring it was alright this time, leaving you with a “warning,” if that’s what you want to call it. You sighed, cracking open your laptop, seeing the blue screen in front of you. You groaned loudly, basically slamming your hands on the keyboard. “Are you serious? You have got to be kidding me,” you mumbled. Stuart, who was sitting across from you, looked at your curiously.

“Everything alright, Y/N?” He asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. You ran a hand through your hair, ignoring his question as you tried to fix your computer. Your attempts were getting worse, the banging getting louder. Stuart got up from his seat, walking around your desk and grabbing your hands. You glanced up at him, tears brimming in the corners of your eyes. “Hey. Calm down. It’s going to be alright.”

You shook your head, a few stray tears leaking down your cheeks. “No, it’s not. Everything wants to go wrong today.”

Stuart wiped the tears from your cheeks, glancing around the room. He grasped your hands tightly, pulling you up from your seat. “Hey guys, we’ll be right back,” Stuart uttered to the others, Lyle seeing the frown on your face. He gave a thumbs-up, Stuart leading you out of the room, towards the closest unoccupied conference room. He locked the door so no one would disturb you, placing you in the plush conference chair. “Alright, spill. What’s wrong?”

You huffed, wiping at your eyes, trying not to ruin your make up. “What isn’t wrong today? I woke up to a note from my roommate saying that she had moved out because she decided to elope with some guy she met two days ago. I can’t afford my rent by myself, so I have two weeks to figure out what to do. And my rent just went up too! There was a notice on my door this morning about it! Then, I went to shower, and our water heater was broken, so I had to take an ice-cold shower. As soon as I got out, my power went out because some moron crashed his car into the transformer, taking out the block. My phone is shattered, like I showed Lyle. I had to jumpstart my car, which took forever, then I got stuck in traffic! Parking was packed, and now my computer won’t start!”

Stuart sighed, kneeling in front of you, rubbing his thumbs over the skin of your hands. “Hey. It’s alright. It’s just one bad day. Things will get better.”

You solemnly chuckled, shuffling in your seat. “You see, this isn’t the only bad day I’ve had. I was out with some of my friends from Berkley the other night, and I completely didn’t fit in. They forgot I was even there. Let alone the fact that they are all getting married or pregnant or in a relationship in general. And here I am, my ugly self, no one ever wanting to date me. I’m going to die an old cat lady. I always feel like I don’t fit in with people, even when I’m here. Always getting overlooked for the things I do, and I never do anything right. I just… I can’t take it.”

Stuart sighed, tilting your chin up to look at him. “Hey, cheer up, buttercup. It may seem bad now, but things will only get better. Don’t let those things bother you. Most of the things you just said aren’t true anyway. You aren’t ugly in the slightest.”

You laughed, pushing his hand away. “You don’t need to lie to cheer me up, Stu.”

“Who said I was lying?” He muttered, pushing some loose hair behind your ear. “You’re the most beautiful girl I know. Why would I ever lie to you? You’re gorgeous, inside and out.” You smiled faintly, Stuart smiling the rare smile you loved. “There’s the lovely smile. Just cheer up, alright babe? Don’t let the little things get to you. You are wonderful. I know you told me once that you had serious self-confidence issues, which I have told you multiple times is insanely stupid because you are perfect the way you are, but I assure you, you don’t need to worry. You’re important to us, to your team. Lyle recognizes everything you do. We all do, even if we don’t say it aloud. We wouldn’t be able to finish things without you. You don’t need to be anyone but yourself, alright?”

You smiled a little wider, pulling Stuart into a hug. “Thank you, Stu. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.”

You felt Stuart stiffen slightly, hugging back slowly. “Anything for you. Now, you go get cleaned up and I will get your computer running, okay?” You nodded, wiping your eyes when you pulled from the hug. “Good. I will see you back in there soon.” With that he trotted off, leaving you alone.

God, why is he so perfect?

Stuart was able to get your computer running, trying to keep you calm whenever another bad thing seemed to happen. You were thankful for his constant support, but your depression was slowly growing. You kept asking yourself when something was going to go right, which the world replied with a big fat “never” because Stuart had excused himself early from work, leaving you alone.

It took you an extra hour to get home, considering your car stalled on your four times on the drive. You trudged into your apartment, the power still off from the accident that morning. You sighed, knowing all of your food in your fridge and freezer would be spoiled, two hundred dollars’ worth of groceries down the drain. You collapsed on your couch, staring at the dark ceiling.

“Why me?” You asked into the nothingness, running your hands over your face. “What did I do to deserve this? Why can’t anything go right?”

You hadn’t been home for long when the doorbell rang. You groaned, rolling off the couch, shuffling to the door. Opening it slowly, your neighbor, an older gentleman by the name of Eric, was in front of you. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of flowers, and not just any flowers.

Buttercups.

Eric smiled, holding the flowers out to you. “A nice young man said to deliver these to you. Said you were having a bad day and needed a pick me up.”

You giggled, taking the flowers gently. “Thank you, Eric. I appreciate it.” He nodded, walking down your driveway quickly. You brushed your fingers over the flowers, taking the note that was bundled in the petals. You read over the neat writing multiple times, processing the words.

I hope these bring a smile to your face like you bring one to mine. When you are done, meet me in your backyard. And remember, Cheer Up, Buttercup.

You carefully placed the flowers on your counter, making a mental note to put them in a vase later. You made your way to your backyard, finding Stuart sitting in a chair near the pool. His head turned in your direction when he heard the glass door slide open and closed, a smile on his face.

“There’s my girl. Did you like my present?” He asked, standing up as you neared him. You nodded calmly, a smiling growing on your cheeks.

“I did. It was really sweet of you. Is that why you left early?” You asked, Stuart winding his arms around your waist.

“It may be part of the reason. I just needed to do something to bring a smile to your face. I can’t have the girl I love being unhappy, right?” He paused, realizing what he said when he saw your eyes widen. “I-I mean. Fuck. Shit. You didn’t hear that. I totally didn’t mean to say that.”

Stuart kept rambling apologies, beginning to make snarky remarks in his haste. You laughed, leaning up to place a chaste kiss to his lips. He shut up immediately, feeling your soft lips against his. “You’re rambling, Stu.” He looked away, a pink hue apparent on his defined cheeks, though covered slightly by his black frames. “I didn’t know you felt that way. If I did, I would have said I loved you back a long time ago.”

He looked up at you, using one hand to ruffle his hair in disbelief. “Seriously? I’ve been silently crushing on you for you to like me back? I’m not dreaming, right?”

You laughed, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Shouldn’t that be my line?”

Stuart grinned, leaning down to place a soft, passionate kiss to your lips. You smiled, tugging him closer, eyes sliding closed at the feeling. His head was tilted to the side, enveloping your lips completely. It was a sweet kiss, Stuart pulling away slowly before attacking your lips again. Your fingers played with the hairs on the nape of his neck, moaning softly at the feeling of his lips against yours.

Stuart pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “You know,” he began, slightly breathless. “I was going to ask if you wanted to get dinner since your power is still out. Maybe, instead, I can just ask you on a date? And maybe we can discuss all your other issues and how to solve them”

You smiled widely, pecking his lips. “I think I would really like that, Stewie.”

Stuart groan, tugging you closer. “You know I hate that name. But,” he chuckled, kissing your forehead, “I think I can make an exception for you. If it helps cheer you up, buttercup. Now, let’s get some dinner.” His hand linked with yours, leading you out to his car, satisfied with the wide smile on your luscious lips that he was responsible for.

[girlygameofthrones]

The Game of Thrones Fanfiction Nobody Asked For

Fandom: Game of Thrones

Pairing: Eventually it will be Roose x Reader

Warning: None for now...except maybe foolishness

Summary: You are completely in love with this wonderful new HBO show Game of Thrones.  You’ve read all the fanfiction and know exactly how they should go, but when you find yourself in Game of Thrones, you find out that being the “Original Character” isn’t exactly how you thought it would go.  Story takes place before Season 3 was released, so Reader only knows Seasons 1 & 2.

Author’s Note: Okay guys, this shameful idea popped in my head probably at some ungodly hour of the morning.  It’s totally stupid, and I apologize in advance for it.

Word Count: 2900

You adored this new show on HBO, Game of Thrones.  You’d never seen anything like it before.  It was dark, it was sexy, it was gritty, and the costumes were absolutely gorgeous.  So far you had both laughed and cried, cheered and booed, and you’d even taken your socks off and thrown them at your television.  The first season sucked you in, and the second season made sure you stayed there.  Now that the third season was rapidly approaching, you could barely handle your excitement.  By far, Game of Thrones was your new favorite show.

To quench your thirst of the show, while you waited for season three, you busied yourself by reading fanfictions.  You generally kept these hidden, reading them on your phone, glancing around to make sure no one knew what you were reading.  You had ships for everyone, and many of the boys you secretly shipped with yourself.  To put it lightly, you were completely obsessed with it.

So the day you woke up in a strange new world, dressed up in a funny gown that looked like it was made from the same material as a potato sack, your immediate thought was: “I’m in Game of Thrones!”

As much as you wished it, you knew it couldn’t possibly be true.  It was just a television show, and girls in real life weren’t like the OCs you found in fanfiction.  You had school, homework to work on.  You were finishing up your senior year in high school.  Clearly you were dreaming, probably having a vivid one thanks to all the extra Mountain Dew you chugged before going to bed.

But it was so real!

“The Starks are requesting these men fight for them.”

“The Lannister forces left the battle, completely defeated.  The Young Wolf had them on the run with their tails between their legs.”

You sat up, noticing you were in a lumpy bed.  You took a look around, seeing dusty stone walls and flickering candles around you.  Everything was so clear to you; you couldn’t possibly be sleeping.  As if to prove this to you, when you put your feet down on the stone floor, you yelped at the icy cold stone.  Yep, for some reason you were in a castle.  For some reason you were dressed up in a hideous potato sack dress.

And for some reason, you were inside Game of Thrones.

Your first reaction was to grab your face and panic.  What would you parents say?  Game of Thrones was a terribly brutal show!  It was gory and violent yet sexy in certain scenes.  People died left and right in it!  Was this really the sort of world you wanted to be in?  Watching it was one thing, but living in it?  How long would you last?  What would happen when you breathed too heavily on Joffrey or trodded on the Mountain’s foot, and they retaliated by killing you?  

But then (you were ashamed to think it) you thought of all your favorites.  There was Robb Stark, Ned Stark’s eldest and very handsome son.  After him was Jon Snow, the shy sweet virgin character up at the wall.  He got extra woobie points for being a bastard.  You wanted to like Jaime Lannister, as he was undeniably handsome, but he was an asshole who was sleeping with his sister.  Oh, but there was Tyrion!  You never thought you’d find a dwarf so charming.  And that was just the boys!  What of the girls?  Daenerys Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons!  Or there was Arya, a tiny badass that stuck out in your mind.  Even Sansa, who you didn’t like first season, was growing on you as she handled captivity in her subtle way.

But the question really was, where were you now?  Winterfell?  Would you see the Starks come out and would they greet you?  You’d heard them refer to Robb as the Young Wolf, so this had to have been past season one at least.  You knew you weren’t at the Wall.  Girls couldn’t go there anyways (though they always seemed to find their way there in the stories) and judging by the dusty room you were in, it wasn’t King’s Landing.

Maybe you were with the Doth Wraki?

But Doth Wraki didn’t have castles.  They moved around and stayed in tents.  As you pondered for a moment where you had found yourself (you felt ashamed in the back of your mind for enjoying this instead of panicking) the door to your room opened and in came two grubby looking men.

And grubby was an understatement!  You wrinkled your nose as a certain stench wafted in with them.  Were they servants?  The two of them were unkempt and wore widow peaked skullcaps that hung down their bony faces.  As you looked closer, you realized they were wearing jackets made from the same material as your potato dress.

“Sister,” one said with a thick accent.  “You’re not even dressed!  Father is waiting for you!”

Your jaw dropped open.

“Um, excuse me, but what?” You said, gaping like a fish.  

“Come on,” the other man said.  “Out of bed you!  You gotta get prettied up!  The Lord’s comin’ by to choose himself a wife!”

What lord?  Maybe it was Robb?  Your heart sank; he’d married that nurse girl, Talisa, at the end of season two.  She was alright, but you still liked fantasizing about him.  What other lords were there?  Then again, this was like a crazy fanfiction, so maybe Robb hadn’t married her…

“Uh, well, if I’m going to get ready to meet a possible future husband, shouldn’t I at least wear something nicer than this?”  You fingered the fraying gown, several loose threads poking out here and there.

The men, who apparently in this world were your brothers, blinked a few times.

“Are you ill, sister?” One asked.  They looked kind of familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it.  You’d seen them in the show, but they hadn’t made a lasting impression on you.

“No, I don’t think so,” You said confusedly.  “Really though, I must have something nicer in my closet…”

“That’s what you always wear,” your new brother said.  “Nicer clothes?  Really, Father has other matters he needs to take care of with the family’s gold.  You can’t expect nice clothing.  Where do you think we are?  In King’s Landing?”

Your head spun.  Maybe you were in a poor family.  But that didn’t make sense either, because you were being lined up for a lord to choose a bride.  You were part of some noble house… You mentally pouted, thinking of all the gorgeous dressed and costumes they had on the show, and you were stuck in this horrible thing!

“Silly me,” You said broodily.  You hopped up though and went over to the foggy mirror to fix up your hair.  You were put off when your other brother handed you a brown skull cap just like his.  “What’s this?”

“Your cap,” he said.  “For your hair.”

Well, if there was any way to make the outfit that much uglier, they had found it.  They were trying to be helpful, you thought.  You took it from him and placed it over your hair, the sight of it making you choke up with disappointment.  If you were going to be the OC in a fanfiction, why couldn’t you dress like Daenerys, or hell, even Cersei?

“Come on now, they’re all waiting for you,” your brother said to you and took your hand.  He didn’t wait for you to say anything as he led you out the door.

The rest of the castle was just as utterly depressing as the room you woke up in.  Whoever owned it seemed to be cutting back on candles.  There was a thick layer of dust that wafted around no matter where you went.  There were a few fireplaces, but most didn’t have fires in them, giving the fortress a constant chill, and the windows, when you found them, were foggy and yellowing.  You knew deep down you weren’t in Winterfell, but this was definite proof you weren’t.  Winterfell was never as fancy as the Capital, but it at least had its own kind of charm.  This place had nothing of the sort.

You were brought inside a room with one long table at the front and several girls (your sisters?  But there were so many of them!) standing in a row.  They all wore various styles of the potato sack dress and those awful caps.  There had to have been twelve of them though.  Plus there were your two brothers.  Each girl had her eyes downcast.

“Father, we present to you Y/N,” one of your brothers announced.

You looked at the front table, which had a large chair, and your heart sank.  It appeared that all the kingdom’s money went into buying this chair your father sat on.  And what an awful father he was!

You knew who he was, even though he hadn’t played much of a role so far in the show.  Walder Frey, Lord of the Twins, was one of Catelyn Stark’s father’s bannermen.  You remembered his big scene, the one where he bragged to Cat about being married to a fifteen year old.  You had gagged when you saw it.  That’s when you saw the mousy teen sitting beside him, eyes darting around nervously.  Somehow in real life he was even more repulsing than he’d been on your living room television.  

All the families in Westeros to be adopted into, you thought bitterly, and I’m a stinky Frey!

Walder Frey studied the group of daughters and wrinkled his nose.  “Well, you’re certainly an ugly lot.  It’s a good thing you were born into this family.  If not, what man would ever take you?”  His mean eyes scanned the room, jowls quivering, his yellow teeth peeking out from his thin lips.  When he saw you, his eyebrows rose a hair.  “What’s this?  I don’t remember having a daughter this pretty!  What was your name again?”

You couldn’t believe your ears.  Who forgot they had a daughter?  He couldn’t even remember your name!

“Father, that’s Y/N,” one of the brothers that retrieved you said.  “You remember, right?”

Walder settled back in his chair and chewed his lip a moment.  “Hmm, well then, I guess the whole lot of you isn’t so ugly after all.  Maybe one of you will impress the lord and you’ll become a real lady.”

What lord was even coming?

“Catelyn Stark said her son Robb, the King in the North,” (he tacked on the extra title mockingly) “would marry one of you.”

Your eyes widened, and you bit your lip, holding back the squeal.  You knew in the show that Robb didn’t marry one of the Freys, but maybe if he came, maybe if he saw you...maybe it would be love at first sight!  Wouldn’t that be wonderful?  You could be lady of Winterfell!  You could be a queen, the Queen in the North!  You chewed your lip as your eyes wandered, completely lost in lalaland.

“Unfortunately for you, King Robb is too important to keep his promises.” He made a hideous sound.  “When you’re king, commitment clearly isn’t honored!”

Your face fell, the fantasy being knocked right out of you.  Some fanfiction this was.  Robb was doing exactly what he did in the show...marrying another girl.  And why wouldn’t he?  Talisa was pretty and kind and talented.  He’d probably heard about the weathered Frey girls.  As disappointed as you were, you still hoped the best for Robb.  He and Talisa were cute together after all.

Again, though, you wondered: Which Lord was coming here to find a new bride?

“But one of you at least will marry the second greatest lord of the North,” Walder went on.  “Lord Bolton will be arriving soon, and one of you lucky girls will be going with him.”

All your sisters refused to make eye contact, but as for you, you looked up and met Walder’s eyes.  Who was Lord Bolton again?  A northerner?  Did he have many scenes?  You wished more than anything you could google House Bolton on your phone.  You couldn’t even remember what sigil they had.  Was this lord old, young, handsome, cruel?  Well, if he was a Northerner, that meant he was one of Robb’s bannermen.

And apart from Tyrion down south, everyone knew the Northerners were the good guys, so if you were picked, you’d be fine, right?

Just then a Frey servant came inside to tell Lord Frey that Lord Bolton had arrived.  Your ears perked up.  You hoped he was handsome and young like Robb was.  

“Peh, bring him in,” Walder said carelessly.

The doors opened and you finally caught sight of your potential husband.

And you were not impressed.

Actually, it wasn’t that you were unimpressed, it was just Lord Bolton wasn’t the idea you had in mind.  He certainly wasn’t unattractive, but he wasn’t young, strong, handsome like Robb.  He was slender, definitely older, and had short  greying hair.  What got your attention were his cold eyes.  Were they cold, though?  You couldn’t tell.  You could read him just as well as you could read a book written in Mandarin.  Lord Bolton dressed exclusively in black, and his wardrobe made him look almost sinister.  

“Welcome to the Twins, my lord,” one of your brothers said pleasantly, nodding his head.

Lord Bolton’s eyes scanned the line of your sisters, including you.  You weren’t sure if you wanted to be chosen by him or not.  This was not the fanfiction you had in mind, but you also didn’t want to spend any more time with the Freys.  As you thought about what you really wanted, Lord Bolton gave a curt nod to Walder and then went back to studying you.  None of your sisters could make eye contact with him, but as for you, you made sure to keep your head high, curiosity bubbling up inside you.

“As you can tell there’s plenty to choose from,” came Walder’s cruel voice.  “Pick whichever.  Pick two of if you’d like.  I can’t find husbands for all of them.  One can be your wife, the other a whore for all I care.”

Your cheeks burned, and before you could really think about what you were doing, you took a step forward and snapped at the old lord: “Are you freaking kidding me?  What an awful thing to say!  They’re your daughters, not some whores to do whatever you please with!”

At first Walder visibly stiffened, saggy chin shaking as he took in what you’d just said.  Lord Bolton’s eyebrows raised just a fraction as he watched the scene before him the way you sometimes watched television.  Was he amused by your outburst or annoyed?  On top of that, your sisters heads dropped down even further, like they wanted desperately to hide from Walder’s wrath.  You stood your ground though, fed up and unwilling to back down.  After a tense moment, Walder choked on a bit of laughter.

“Well isn’t she feisty,” he said to Lord Bolton.  “Couldn’t even remember her name this morning.  Come to think of it...can’t even recall who her mother was.  Some spirited whore, probably.”

Lord Bolton ended up smiling, which made your blood boil.  “Yes, yes, I know a little about spirited children.”

You were a little taken aback by the Lord’s cold, smooth voice.  It was the kind you would have fangirled over in any other circumstance.

Lord Frey grumbled something before taking a big swig of his wine.  He grinned, the purple drink having stained his already yellow mouth.  “Well, see anything you like?  Like I said, take whichever one you’d like!”

“It’s a difficult decision, my lord,” Lord Bolton said casually.  He showed absolutely no interest in any of the girls, except for you, but it wasn’t the kind of interest that said he wanted to marry you.  “Perhaps I should think on it, get a feel for your daughters before making my decision.  It won’t be easy becoming a Bolton.”

“No, that reputation of yours has stuck,” Walder grumbled.  He waved a hand dismissively.  “Fine.  Stay here a night or two.  Keep an eye on them and marry the one you want.  I can wait a few days.” He turned to your brothers first.  “Find a room, for Lord Bolton.” Then he snapped at his daughters.  “And you lot, out!  Out of here now!”

Everyone stumbled and ran into each other in an attempt to get out all at once.  You didn’t budge, catching the gaze of Lord Bolton.  You hoped to be able to read something of his expression this time but still you weren’t able.  Then one of your sisters grabbed your arm, and before you knew it, you were being dragged out of the room with the rest of them.  The whole time your head spun as you made sense of your options and what you wanted to happen.

On one hand, compared to Robb, Lord Bolton was a major disappointment. Not that he was bad looking, but he just wasn’t Robb.  Your fantasy was crashing down around you.

But on the other hand...anything was better than the Freys.

So you crossed your fingers, hoping that out of the Freys, Lord Bolton would choose you to marry.

[travelteatv]

Following on from the last post, in which we travelled from London to Edinburgh, then up to Inverness – at this point in the journey we were staying just outside Inverness at Balnagown Estates. 

We stayed there for two nights, using it as a base to explore Scotland and honestly, it was the best decision we could have made: we were in a small cottage (Peat Cottage) within the grounds of a huge, gorgeous estate and as a couple, it was absolutely perfect for us.

The staff are incredibly welcoming and there are lots of lovely touches within the cottage that make it feel like home. Plus, the facilities of the estate were fantastic and the staff really make you feel as though they want you to use everything they have on offer; free bike hire, a viewing tower which they give you a key to upon arrival, a games room (which is basically a huge sports hall), a Scottish wildcat breeding program you can go and see (from a safe distance of course) and more.

Also, it’s surprisingly affordable, considering everything on offer! We’re absolutely desperate to return as soon as we can.

  WEST HIGHLAND RAILWAY LINE

Our first adventure from the cottage, was to catch a train on the West Highland Railway Line from Glenfinnan to Fort William aka the route of the Harry Potter train. I researched this thoroughly in advance and was initially upset to realise that the Jacobite Steam train runs a lot less frequently outside of peak months, and we would not be able to be in the right place at the right time, in order to catch it.

However, normal trains still run on that route and so it’s still possible to take a train which goes over the famous Glenfinnan Viaduct (my aim), which in itself is very special. Especially seeing as the normal train was £10 return each, as opposed to £43 return on the steam train. Of course, if we had been able to catch the ‘Harry Potter’ train, we would have jumped at the chance – my mum went on it a couple of years ago and absolutely raved about it. I can’t complain about saving a bit of money though!

Nonetheless, we were still excited to catch the train from Glenfinnan, so got up bright and early to make the beautiful drive going past Loch Ness and across the Stunning Highland countryside, to get the train. In fact, we left even earlier than necessary to give ourselves the option to stop if we saw anything we wanted to get out and look out – it was October, so the autumn leaves were out in force and it’s always a shame on a road trip to only be able to drive past things, so I was pleased to be able to stop a couple of times.

My favourite stop off was when we came across the ‘Bridge of Oich’ near Invergarry, which is free to park at and walk across. Scotland is a bit magical like this – you never know what’s going to be around the next corner.

We arrived at the station about 20 minutes before it was due to arrive, so had a wander around the museum which is in the train station and looked at the accommodation on site: ‘The Sleeping Car’ – it’s housed in an old train carriage, which is pretty cool. (I had tried to book a room here but sadly they were all booked up).

Now, I would love to say that the usual train was just as good as the steam train and I would highly recommend it to save some money etc. But unfortunately, I can’t really say that – the windows on the train were really dirty and I didn’t really manage to see much out the window/take any particularly good pictures.

Here for example, is an image I managed to take of the viaduct (I know, it’s awful):

If you simply want to go on this route, then yes I would definitely recommend taking this train but if you want a real experience, I wouldn’t go for this one – it really is just a normal train, not built as a tourist attraction and the carriages reflect this. Don’t get me wrong, I didn’t think the trains would be any different, but I think I forgot how dirty train windows often are!

The other thing to consider with this train, is the timetables, as they are much less regular than trains in the rest of the country. I had thought about this ahead of time, fortunately – we could have stopped in Mallaig at the end of the line instead of Fort William, but I was aware there’s a lot more going on in Fort William so at least we had an hour of wandering along the high street and could get some food before getting our return train to Glenfinnan.

GLENCOE

Thankfully, this wasn’t our only plan for the day – Glenfinnan is only 30 minutes away from the stunning Glencoe, so this was our next destination. You would probably recognise Glencoe from a few famous movies, including James Bond ‘Skyfall’, Monty Python and Braveheart. It’s a beautiful valley and well worth stopping by if you’re able to.

On the way, we stopped and had a quick look at the viaduct from the ground and even saw a deer wandering around! We couldn’t stay for too long though as the car parks where you can get this view are quite expensive and it didn’t seem worth the money seeing as we had just been on the train.

Now, this day already hadn’t quite gone as planned for me, as I had been so excited to get a good view of the viaduct from the train (that I had been planning for a long time). So you can imagine my heart sinking even further when by the time we got off the train and drove to Glencoe, the rain started. Rain so heavy that there was practically zero visibility , so once in the valley I also couldn’t really see anything.

Like true Brits, we took the only natural next step in order to make ourselves feel better – we went to the pub. There aren’t a lot within the area, but the Clachaig Inn is situated within Glencoe, so we stopped there for a pint and some food. And you know what? It completely turned the day around.

The Clachaig Inn is a a bed and breakfast with some bars attached – we went into the ‘Boots Bar’; a cosy little pub with a nice fire and good food, that’s quite popular with walkers due to its location and also in turn, dogs. They have a great selection of local beers that they’re happy to talk you through/let you try and in general, the staff are very friendly.

We stayed there for a few hours hoping to let the rain pass, although according to the staff it hadn’t stopped raining in about a month so that seemed unlikely! Nonetheless, we spent a lovely couple of hours in the warm, tucked away from the rain playing board games and drinking local beers (only a half for me as I was driving, of course).

I think if we ever do another road trip going up the west side of Scotland, I think we would potentially aim to stay at the Clachaig Inn, partly due to its location but also just because of how welcoming and lovely everyone was. Plus they allow dogs!

Once we left, the rain had pretty much passed and so we were able to drive up the valley to gawk at how pretty it was for a bit. I mean, you can completely see why it’s so regularly featured as a backdrop in movies!

It did take a few hours to drive from Balnagown to Glencoe, so we headed back early afternoon and I will admit, it was a bit of a depressing drive as the rain started again but thankfully we had our homely accommodation to look forward to arriving at.

On the way, we popped into Aldi and grabbed some beers, as well as some food for dinner/the next day and then spent a cosy evening in the cottage/playing games in the games room on site!

  And that was the second leg of the journey! The final section, is our travels from Inverness to John O’Groats which was also pretty special.

Abi

X

@travelteatv

  TOP TIPS

I posted some top tips on how to travel on a budget in the UK on the last post (which you can see here) but just to reiterate some in relation to this day specifically:

Train tickets: This could have cost us a lot more money if we didn’t book the tickets ahead and use our railcards (check if you’re eligible for one here).

Supermarket shops: If you can stop by an Aldi/Lidl/Asda then I would recommend it to make sandwiches/for breakfast food as it really does have a big impact on the budget. Plus, it’s nice having car snacks on hand for the drive!

Parking: Part of the reason I chose to go to Glenfinnan station was because of it’s proximity to the viaduct and Glencoe but also because I knew there was free parking. I’m aware how cheap that sounds but at some of the big stations/attraction car parks you can easily end up paying £10/£15 just to leave the car there, which can easily add up over a few days.

    Scottish Road Trip on a Budget | Part 2 | Glencoe and Glenfinnan Viaduct Following on from the last post, in which we travelled from London to Edinburgh, then up to Inverness - at this point in the journey we were staying just outside Inverness at…

[everythingtimeless]

Historical Hour With Hilary: 1x11

You know the drill -- earlier installments are here. Otherwise let’s head to the World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago, 1893, as Wyatt and Rufus attempt to catch up with Flynn and Lucy, and run afoul of the Devil in the White City.

This installment ended up, by accident, perfectly timed, landing right as the USA is marking Columbus Day weekend. Christopher Columbus (and his legacy) are in fact central to our discussion, as while it is usually known as the “World’s Fair,” the real name of the setpiece event in 1893, scheduled for 1892 and intended to commemorate the 400th anniversary of the “discovery” of the New World, was the World’s Columbian Exposition. It was an absolutely massive event that impacted every level of American society at the end of the 19th century and the beginning of the 20th, and its cultural, physical, and mental effects on the collective American psyche cannot possibly be overstated. It’s going to be hard for me to get everything I want to say into a single relatively brief intro to this event, so I’m going to have to pick and choose. But of all the places and times the show has visited thus far, I’m inclined to say that none of them have matched this for sheer long-lasting significance. It encompasses a history from the fifteenth century until this very minute in the twenty-first, and is a perfect (and unsettling) synecdoche for how that history has been deployed and used.

It may make the most sense to start, therefore, with Christopher Columbus. When he set sail in 1492, he was -- as most people know -- attempting to find a new passage to the wealth of the Indies. Why was he doing it? Well, Ferdinand and Isabella of Spain, as you might also know, were Catholic. Very, very Catholic. Therefore, as Columbus’ own journals record:

[I hope to find] those things [money and gold] in such quantity that the sovereigns, before three years [are over], will undertake and prepare to go conquer the Holy Sepulcher; for thus I urged your Highnesses [Ferdinand and Isabella] to spend all the profits of this my enterprise on the conquest of Jerusalem, and Your Highnesses laughed and said that it would please them and even without this profit they had that desire. (see p. 51)

Yes. Let’s start there. Columbus was sent to raise money for a new crusade, which had preoccupied the Christian world incessantly since their inception in 1095. The last “official” crusade had taken place in the late thirteenth century, but the fall of Constantinople to the Ottoman Turks in 1453 had sharply revived interest in crusading plans. 1492 was also notable as the year that the Islamic kingdom of Granada in Spain was finally destroyed, the Inquisition against Jews and non-Catholics was at its peak, and Spanish observers -- upon receiving word of Columbus’ “discoveries” and that of a new people, the Native Americans -- immediately made the connection that it was time to conquer the Indians instead. Ferdinand and Isabella quickly asked Pope Alexander VI (aka Rodrigo Borgia, who you have probably heard of) to ecclesiastically sanction their possession of the new world. Alexander obliged in short order with three papal bulls known as the Bulls of Donation: Inter caetera, Eximiae devotionis, and Dudum siquidem. These papal documents formed the theological and legal basis for the immediate and overwhelming Spanish (and soon French, English, and Portuguese) extortion and exploitation that was to follow.

I would have to write a much longer post, as noted, to get in everything I want to say about Columbus. I cannot overstate how terrible he was, how much he contributed to the legalization and establishment of centuries of native genocide, and the way in which he was reinvented as a towering American hero. Not coincidentally, the American love affair with Columbus was at its peak in the 19th century, as the fledgling American government was applying all-out extermination policies to its own Indians. In 1823, the Supreme Court ruled on Johnson vs. M’Intosh, which is still cited today as the legal precedent that allows the United States to exist on former Indian land, and was in fact the entire reason it was issued. Chief Justice John Marshall referred directly to the “doctrine of discovery” set out in the Alexandrine papal bulls, and his friend and associate justice, Joseph Story, made the link explicit: America in its modern state existed because of the papal bulls given to legitimize Columbus’ conquest. (see pp. 82-84). Nobody would have denied this, either. Idealization and adoration of Columbus was everywhere. The big festival to celebrate the quad-centennial was no accident. And nor was the White City.

The White City of the Columbian Exposition was literally intended to represent American exceptionalism, the triumph of the invading whites over the last of the Indians, and the pursuing of colonization and imperialism at the turn of the century. In 1890, L. Frank Baum, better known as the author of The Wizard of Oz, wrote a famous celebration of the Wounded Knee Massacre: 

The nobility of the Redskin is extinguished [. . .] the Whites, by law of conquest, by justice of civilization, are masters of the American continent, and the best safety of the frontier settlements will be secured by the total annihilation of the few remaining Indians. Why not annihilation? Their glory has fled, their spirit broken, their manhood effaced; better that they should die than live the miserable wretches that they are. (see p. 111).

Excuse me, I just gotta go.... scream really loudly for a second.

Okay, I’m back. The World’s Fair! It’s one of the best-documented cultural events of probably the entire 19th century. It cemented the groundwork for modern capitalist consumer society and the celebration of American racism alike. It attracted acts from Harry Houdini to Buffalo Bill’s Wild West show with Annie Oakley, to the world’s first Ferris wheel, to more. It was intended to awe and surprise the average paying customer and to celebrate their feeling of exceptional patriotism, and boy, did it do that. Major forerunners of famous brands got their start at the fair. Like so:

The cultural legacy of the Fair is [...] still as pervasive, today, coloring every aspect of daily modern life--from museums to the Pledge of Allegiance to hamburgers and Disney World.

The Columbian Exposition was the venue for the debut of consumer products which are so familiar today--including Cream of Wheat, Shredded Wheat, Pabst Beer, Aunt Jemima syrup, and Juicy Fruit gum. The Manufactures and Liberal Arts Building was a showcase for American products, and showed them to advantage. [...] The Fair also introduced picture postcards to the American public, as well as two staples of the late-twentieth century diet--carbonated soda and hamburgers.

But it was not merely the Fair's product introductions which had an impact on the face of modern America. The Exposition provided the United States with a new holiday, Columbus Day, and a new method of inculcating patriotism in schoolchildren-- the Pledge of Allegiance. Yet nothing "says more about the power of the White City than that it inspired the Emerald City. Children's writer L. Frank Baum never forgot the fair and transmuted it into Oz.”

Yep. Good ol’ L. Frank Baum again. Man, I’m depressed.

Given all this, it’s perhaps not too surprising that there was a Devil in the White City, which is the title of Erik Larson’s fascinating (and terrifying) 2004 book about the fair, its immense cultural impact, and two men involved with it: one, Daniel Burnham, who designed it, and the other, H.H. Holmes, the man behind the “Murder Castle,” which was set up as a hotel for guests at the fair, and where he became one of the most notorious serial killers in American history (and perhaps even first popularized the idea among the public). If you don’t feel like sleeping tonight, you can check out the details, but Holmes (born Herman Mudgett) was just as sick as presented in the episode, if not more so. (Oh, and they literally just exhumed his grave in Philadelphia a month ago, in September 2017, to find out that he was still mostly preserved. So that’s definitely not going to loose a terrifying poltergeist on the world or anything.) That is one historical figure that We Do Not At All Object to Wyatt offing earlier than scheduled.

Whoof. This was intense. Let’s uh... drink a Coke or something. Chill out.

In expanding the field of the culture that would produce McDonald’s and Coca-Cola, the exposition helped to popularize and legitimize the mix of diet and political economy that were converging to transform the United States into what Eric Schlosser has described as the “fast food nation.”

GOD DAMMIT.

Next week: We head to 1882 and the Murder of Jesse James by the Coward Robert Ford... or perhaps not quite.