#snapping a rubber band at my wrists helped a bit and im going to make some more tea and call a friend and clean my aprtment tomorrow

[minlex]

.

[shhh-no-ones-home]

not an obituary javier pena x reader

+++++++++

i am in my feels, hello yes, it is sad boi hours. holy shit this is depressing as hell.

tw: strong mentions and themes of self harm, abuse, death, and past traumas. read at your own risk.

to anyone dealing with this it is okay to reach out, to get help, and to even feel this way. what matters most is your health and safety and just know that it absolutely does get better, i promise. i went through it and i know first hand, you will get through this, and you will live a beautiful life.

song: dead butterflies by architects 

tag list: @cynic-spirit

+++++++++

my hands shook as i listened to the ringing of the receiver. i had been crying for hours and my face was still stained by tears. i was only just beginning to calm down, staring at the broken mirror in front of me. god i looked so tired. how did i let this happen again? i said id never let this happen again. well. i guess i hadnt broken my promise yet. i hadnt actually done anything, but the thoughts alone made me feel like i was betraying myself. i squeezed my eyes closed tightly. maybe i should just hang up and let it run its course. then i heard the ringing stop.

"pena."

he said urgently and i felt a sob leave my body.

"hello?"

he asked, a little concerned and the tears started again.

"javi i need help."

i said, crying into the phone as i slid down the wall of my bathroom.

"im leaving now, dont do anything till i get there."

he sounded so worried. but in all fairness he had every right to be. i had told him about my past, at his request, but i still did it. it was hard to hide them given our usual past time so i figured i might as well. he knew where the scars on my body came from. each one had a story that i longed to forget, the new bruises on my wrist just bellow one of them. it was from the rubber band i refused to take off, being apparent of a better habit i had once picked up. it was just enough pain. but what does one do when that isnt enough?

"hurry."

i whispered before the phone went dead. my whole body shook as i kept coming back to the memories of how it felt the first time. god i craved it. i wanted that life back but id come so far. i shook my head as i pressed my forehead into my knees. i just want it to go away. i want the suffering to go away, the memories, the way it felt then and the way it feels now. i could easily let it go now, i knew a million and one ways. but javi was already on his way. i couldnt do that to him. i couldnt let him find me like that. especially not after he'd pushed me to celebrate a decade of being clean. ten whole years of not hurting myself. i almost couldnt believe it. it felt like such a long time when i heard it out loud like that.

"y/n!"

i heard, snapping my attention to the bathroom door as it swung open. javi was staring down at me with a worried look on his face but he sighed in relief when he saw me still fully intact.

"jesus, you scared the shit out of me."

he said, standing beside me and sliding down the wall to sit beside me. i just stared at him, eyes blurry as he looked back to me.

"i cant do it anymore."

i croaked out, feeling another hot tear slip down my cheek. he looked at me with the utmost pity before kissing my forehead and pulling me into his side.

"talk to me, please, what happened?"

he said softly, petting my hair as i pushed my face into his chest. i just shook my head.

"i dont want to feel this way again."

i mumbled against him, moving my hand into his. i looked down at them together as he ran his thumb over the back of my hand.

"when was the last time you left the house?"

he asked and i bit my lip, watching as he turned my hand over. i felt so guilty in that moment. he knew the answer, i hadnt been to work in over a week.

"would you mourn me?"

i asked and he pulled me up, holding my head in his hands and looking between my eyes. i wanted to cry again, seeing now just how broken he was too.

"you know i would."

he said softly and i nodded, closing my eyes but only for a moment. i looked back at him as he pressed his thumbs through the tear tracks on my face, pushing them away.

"but you and i both know i dont do funerals."

he said and i let out a shaky laugh, watching as he tried to flash me a smile, albeit unconvincing.

"i dont think i could trust anyone else to write my eulogy though."

i said and he moved his hands slowly away from me, taking my hand back in his.

"well if i have any say in it, you wont need one for a long while."

i glanced over his face a few times before he stood up, pulling me to my feet too. he brought me out into the living room and it was the first time id really had a good look at the damage id caused. my furniture was all flipped about, glass shattered from the flower vase on my coffee table and the water from it poured out onto the rug. if anything it reflected exactly how i felt about the situation. i sighed at the sight of it.

"ya know,"

i started, taking his attention as we made it passed the wreckage and to the door. he paused as he reached for it.

"once upon a time i wanted so badly for my address to be six feet under."

he looked over my face again as i spoke.

"but even all the depression in the world couldnt make me leave you."

i said and he just stared at me for a second. when i looked down and moved to open the door he pulled me into a tight hug, holding me like id slip away if he let go or loosened his grip. i hugged him back like my life depended on it, and in that moment it felt like it did.

"ill do everything i can to keep you safe."

he whispered before kissing the side of my head. i breathed deeply, feeling some of my stresses melt away as i inhaled him.

"as long as thats true i promise to stay out of the paper."

i said as he pulled away, nodding once at me and opening the door.

"if i ever got that call i dont know what id do with myself."

he confessed as we made our way to the stairs of the apartments that led outside. i side nodded.

"i guess we'll never find out."

i said, offering my pinky as we stepped into the warm open air of the Columbian summer. he just looked at me for a second before interlocking his pinky with mine.

"thats a deal. now lets go get you something to eat, im sure you could use it."

he mentioned and i laughed a little, looping my arm around his as we made our way down the street. i watched the ground for a moment as we walked, thinking how lucky i was to have him in my life. how lucky i was to be able to live for someone that wasnt myself, because the one thing they never tell you is that if you arent tethered to someone it makes it that much easier to let go. now i had someone who would look after me, keep me dependable, and keep me alive. even if he didnt know it. i half smiled at the thought, slipping my hand in his and swinging our arms back and forth. he just looked at me and i kissed his shoulder lightly.

"thank you javier, i dont know what i would do without you."

[dangan-happy]

(PW: Mom said it's my turn to steal the ahoges) (TW: S*lf H*rm, S*icidal thoughts and doubt) Hey can this go for Shuichi, Miu And Maki? Anyways i really been feeling like i shouldn't exist anymore and i keep hurting myself like its no big deal, And i keep thinking no one cares for me, and i just want to give up on life, alot of people said i should talk to someone about it, and i have been, but its not helping And im feeling worse. (Thank you for reading this, no matter what mod you are)

Um, I...I'm not sure who I'm talking to, but I'm sorry to hear that you're going through something like that. I don't know if it'll help, but I can tell you that those thoughts are wrong.

Even an amateur detective can see that there would be people who would be hurt if something were to happen to you. Perhaps you should talk to the person you are seeing about getting a prescription or a diagnosis for depression. If you can't, maybe ask your friends and family to write down little things that they love about you or how they feel about you to remind you that you are loved. Maybe that would help a little bit. Um...as for that...perhaps you could try substitutions for that. Maybe instead wear a rubber band around your wrist snd snap it when you get the urge or draw on yourself with soft markers. It can help with the urge, and it would be a healthier substitute. As for what you have now...make sure to disinfect and properly bandage your wounds. If nothing else, it should help them not get infected, and...it may help with healing. Getting out of that mindset can be hard, but I'm sure that you can overcome this.

And it's no problem to hear you out. I'm glad that you're reaching out even a little bit. I hope that you keep feeling comfortable enough to talk to us, and that we can help you even a little bit. Um...just know that we all believe in you.

=

Woah, woah! Hurting yourself how? Ah this - this is something I need to attend to right away. Forget my inventions, you’re far more important!

Even if you think that you’re not important to anyone, I know that there’s at least 1 person that thinks you’re their whole world.. Sure it’s not the ideal number that you wanna hear, but you know what, it’s better than no one. You know what, make that more than 1. Cause I care about ya & I know the ultimate weenie here cares too!! Red eyes cares, even if she doesn’t dare to show it.

Hearing you out is the least I can do, even if it’s just for emotional support or reassurance or whatever the fuck ‘ya need! That’s why we’re here, it’s to help you & many others out. The way you’re feeling can’t be automatically classified as depression, but I would check on seeing a professional due to this state of mind, just to be safe. There’s no need to thank me babes, I’m just doing what I can to help ‘ya. Alright, I’ll be passing the torch, so to speak, to red eyes here..

=

Miu, do you wanna….forget it. You’re such a waste of my energy, I don’t have time to be insulting you when someone needs to speak their mind.

Hello anonymous, as much as I’d like to not agree with Miu, seeing a professional about this can help out. A therapist would be ideal as you can have an outlet for any pent up sadness or anger that you may have.. What works for me when I’m overwhelmed is writing down the thoughts & crumpling up the paper before tossing it into the trash. Or burning it. But I would suggest tossing it because I don’t want to give you an idea & then you get hurt…

Although you may think it’s a bother, I promise that we’re here to provide any help that we can. Even if you ask for someone as annoying as Miu…but that’s beside the point, we hope we’ve helped you even a bit..

[feraldavestrider]

hey i don't usualy like sending these kind of messages but as someone who has beeing doing CBT, that post you reblogged is just... outright wrong? there are people in the notes who word it better than i could in an ask but op is basically describing CBT with other words, the treatment (when done well) should never make you ashamed or guilty of bad thoughts. the whole point of dealing with intrusive thoughts/impulses is accepting you have them and that doesn't define you. 1/2

OP might've had a bad experience but it's dangerous to say those things about CBT (like the relapse, without sources) when it's the only thing that works for many folk like me, and it might put them off to giving it a shot. sorry for the knejerk reaction to it, have a nice day. 2/2

ok first of all i know this isnt a funny thing but for a whole ass minute i fr thought these asks were about cock and ball torture HDSSKDFDJSKFHDSKJFHDSFKJ

so i do this thing on tumblr sometimes where i skim read posts and i dont like... process every part of a post? like i read it all but sometimes i just dont actuall. READ all of it and tbh i didnt even really read the cbt bit and frankly i know like... barely anything abt cbt, i have never and probably will never have therapy and i dont know that much abt various therapy methods. thats on me for reblogging a post w/o properly reading all of it/not knowing or caring abt what was actually the main point of it so my bad

i mostly reblogged the post bc of the last two paragraphs/opening paragraph which doesnt actually mention cbt:

Not being mean to yourself doesn’t mean censoring self-deprecating humor, it doesn’t mean snapping a rubber band on your wrist when you have a negative thought, it means taking time to sit down and think about yourself as if you were another person, to really take stock of who you are from as objective a perspective as you can muster, and if you really want to grow, realizing that this person you see can’t grow if the person closest to them, which is you, spends all their time berating them and making them feel like shit.

Being friends with yourself is not a series of therapeutic exercises, it’s challenging yourself to evaluate why you’re a dick to yourself in a way you aren’t to other people, or maybe you are a dick to other people, and maybe you want to be a dick to yourself, which is goofy as fuck, but if you’re still suffering, maybe ask yourself why the fuck you want to be such a dick, the answers may surprise you.

i dont have a problem w ppl using the rubber band (cause i know it helps for those recovering from self harm) or censoring self deprecating humour, but ive had people before act like bc i make self deprecating jokes or jokes abt killing myself that im not trying to recover. ive kind of jumped around on my opinion on this in regards to myself and others, and i used to fully think those things were just funny and that i didnt have to make an effort to try and get better in regards to my mental health, and then i embraced the idea that if u do things like make those jokes ur only hurting urself n that u hsould try not to say bad things abt urseld ever in order to heal. 

ive tried that and it didnt work for me personally; for me, i can engage in occasional downtalk of myself, serious or joking, but it was more of a process of thinking and meditating on my reasons for my self hatred and suicidal thoughts, and then working on healing the causes for that shit rather than trying to just cut out the symptoms of my mental health issues. if u get me? and im doing a lot better now! 

sorry i didnt mean to go on a rant abt my stuff, but yea so like... i dont really know much abt cbt and if it works for u, ur very valid like i think every one has their own ways which is best for them to overcome their personal issues. i hope u can see y i reblogged the post, those two last paragraphs do rlly speak to me on my view on my own issues but i didnt really read all of it dshfsfjdshfjdskhfdskfdhf

anyway ill delete my reblog, im v sorry and dw abt sending asks like this like... sometimes i just reblog bad stuff that i only partially read or im just stupid or smth so like! when ppl r nice abt it im always happy 2 get asks like this. enjoy ur day anon

[byelart]

the scar

hewwo im back reposting more old fics!!! this ones about mike seeing the scar from nancy stabbing wills side with the hot iron :o its old and parts of it are a little so-so but i hope u like it!!!!

-July 23rd, 1987-

“You ready to go?” 

Mike twirls his keys around his index finger, leaning against the counter as Will manages to stumble out of his room. They’re in the Byers’ kitchen, where the light filters through the windows and hits the walls at an angle that makes the paint glow, filling the room with a warm amber light. It’s comfortably silent, with Joyce at work and Jonathan off at NYU. Mike’s taking Will to the art gallery that just opened in Hawkins, after Will complained that he had no artistic inspiration and needed something to help him finish a project for his advanced art class. Will’s pulling a sweatshirt (one of Mike’s, an old Hawkins highschool sweatshirt that practically swallows him) over his head, rustling up his hair until it sticks out at awkward angles. A soft smile falls on Mike’s face as he watches Will finish getting ready, smoothing his hair out and tugging the sleeves of the shirt down over his hands. Mike’s eyes wander across Will’s body, memories flashing through his mind like a flip book of everything he loves about Will. Will’d changed as he’d gotten older, aging at a speed that almost felt too fast. He’s not much taller than he used to be, the top of his head barely reaching Mike’s shoulder (although Mike is freakishly tall, having hit a growth spurt that didn’t stop for three years). He’s slimmed slightly, his body narrow and light like a sparrow. Mike once worried about how tiny he is, but, then again, Will can eat more than him and Nancy combined and his metabolism is like a freight train, making it seem like he can never gain weight even if he wants to. His face hasn’t changed much, reminiscently cherubic and peppered with dark moles that he refuses to acknowledge unless Mike is pressing gentle kisses into them. The most obvious change is that Will’s hair has grown out in smooth waves until it falls to just above his shoulders. He’d grown it out after claiming that he was tired of the short haircut he’d had since he was twelve. “Is this….. bad? do you want me to wear something else?” Will’s voice breaks through Mike’s thoughts, and for a moment Mike can see a familiar flood of anxiety behind Will’s eyes, dark clouds that he knows are wreaking havoc in Will’s gut. Mike blinks. He had been staring. shit. “Wh- no! no, don’t change!” Mike blurts, pushing away from the counter and closer to Will, a surge of something he can’t quite place pumping through his chest at the sight of Will tilting his head up to look Mike in the eye. Will grins at him, his fingers intertwined in front of his chest. The sweatshirt he’s drowning in is a dark green like the evergreens outside their windows and Mike can’t help but think about how the color makes Will’s eyes feel so much brighter. Will’s hands rest on Mike’s shoulders, like they’re ballroom dancing. He giggles, and Mike sways a little, humming under his breath. “Maybe we could have our own Snow Ball, right here in the kitchen.” Mike’s hands come to rest just above Will’s hips, about halfway up his stomach, and Will jolts. His eyes go wide and a soft mewl falls from his lips before Mike can even ask what’s wrong. His hand falls from Mike’s shoulder to wrap tight enough around his wrist to begin to cut off circulation. he practically rips Mike away from him, his breathing thin and wavering. Mike lets go of Will’s sides, terrified that he’s somehow hurt Will or sent him into an episode, but the moment Mike’s hands are off his hips he falls quiet, tilting his head towards the floor so his eyes are hidden behind a curtain of dark hair. The room is silent- a rubber band about to snap. “Will? are you okay?” Mike asks, his voice barely loud enough to be considered a whisper. Will nods, his chest heaving. “I- I’m fine. I’m sorry- I- l-lets just go.” Will says, but Mike grabs his shoulders, keeping him from pushing past and leaving. “Did I hurt you?” Mike asks. Will looks at him, shaking his head. His eyes are wide and terrified behind the strands of hair covering his face. “No. No, you didn’t- it’s just- I- it-” Will stammers, tears beginning to glitter in his lashes. Strawberry red floods his face as he tries to find the words he wants to say. “Is it an- an episode? did I- are- are you seeing the shadow again?” Mike asks, his hands moving to Will’s arms as he tries to calm Will down. Will’s stammering falls quiet at Mike’s words, but his eyes are still hidden behind his hair. “No. It’s- I shouldn’t be so- It’s something from a while ago, you weren’t- I don’t think-” “Show me.” Mike says, leaning down until Will’s eyes meet his. Will swallows thickly but obliges, his fingers finding the hem of his sweatshirt and pulling it up until the spot on his side is exposed. There, halfway between his hip and his ribs, is a thick scar, about as wide as one of Mike’s fingers and a little longer than his thumb. The skin looks burnt away, leaving a dark patch against the pale white of Will’s skin. It seems like there’s something trapped inside it, a thick black line zig-zagging through the length of the burnt skin like lightning. Mike exhales softly at the sight of it, his eyes flicking to Will’s. Will is looking away from him, his eyes trained intently on the kitchen cabinets. “What- where did this come from?” Mike asks. He reaches forwards to touch it, but Will’s breathing hitches and he freezes, not wanting to scare Will any further. “The- when- when he w-was in my head- they had to burn- burn him out-” “I remember. I thought they used heaters? and the fireplace?” Mike asks. The scar on Will’s side moves when he breathes, stretching and relaxing as his chest heaves. The black marking seems to writhe within his skin independently, sending a thick dread sliding down Mike’s throat. “they- they did, b-but- but then he got m-mad, and broke one of the- the wrist ties. mom tried to- she tried to stop him- he- I started- I was ch-choking her- a-a-and they couldn’t- they couldn’t get m-me off,” Will’s voice cracks and he takes a moment to lick his lips before continuing. “Nancy- she used a st-stoker from the fireplace to get me to- to stop.” Will says. His voice is shaking and he’s looking anywhere but Mike’s face because he knows Mike will be angry. Angry that Will didn’t tell him sooner, angry that Nancy hurt Will without telling him, angry that Will had done something like trying to choke out Joyce even though it wasn’t him, it hadn’t been him in there. A gentle hand pushes Will’s hair out of his face, tucking it behind his ear with a touch that barely feels like a touch, like they’re barely making contact. Mike’s fingers are warm and the hand at Will’s elbow is sure and Will gathers just enough courage to glance at Mike’s face. Mike is watching him with something that Will thinks might be pity or sorrow but most of all Mike looks like he’s in love. his eyes are so full of love despite all the awful things Will has done and it makes Will cry, hiccuping once before tears begin to stream down his face. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there with you.” Mike says, his voice thicker than it had been a moment ago. Will shakes his head, tears dripping to the floor. “D-don’t-” He starts, but Mike pulls him closer, wrapping his arms around Will’s body protectively. A warmth floods through him that he hasn’t felt for a while, the guilt weighing down on his shoulders feeling just a bit lighter now. they hold each other in silence for a while, the only sound between them being Will’s soft sniffles every now and then and the brush of fabric against fabric as they shift. Mike begins to sway ever-so-slightly, smoothing Will’s hair down and pressing a kiss against the top of his head. Will hiccups again and his fingers dig into Mike’s back as he reaches for anything to ground him. Mike finally pulls away from Will, pushing the hair on the other side of his face behind his ear. “You know what this means, right?” He asks. Will cocks his head at Mike, his eyes red-rimmed and puffy. His fingers are still tangled in the back of Mike’s shirt. “I’m never gonna let you out of my sight ever again.” Mike says, grinning. Will buries his face into Mike’s chest, trying to hide his grin in the soft fabric and warmth of Mike’s body. He can hear Mike’s heartbeat and smell him- he smells like fabric softener and the pine trees outside and the allspice that seems everpresent in Karen’s kitchen back at home -and he doesn’t think he’s ever felt more protected in his life as Mike’s arms slowly wrap around him again.

[fictionalrat]

let it happen | chapter two

pairing: klance

sneak a peek:

“Lance, don’t freak out, but…” Keith adjusts his glasses, “I might have an idea.”

Lance huffs, “Don’t strain yourself.”

Keith scowls, “Shut up and hear me out, asshole.”

“Okay,” Lance leans back on his chair and crosses his arms, “I’ll bite.”

“I think we should…” Keith snaps the rubber band on his wrist, “Uhm, fuck?”

read on ao3

“Lance?” He hears when he clicks the door shut with his foot. He whips his head around to find Keith at the dinner table hugging his right leg to his chest, foot on the chair and knee tucked under his chin. He’s frowning deeply at his laptop screen like it’s offending him in some way, his glasses perched on the edge of his nose. Keith looks so damn adorable Lance’s heart almost leaps out of his chest. Fucked, Lance’s fucked.

“Yep, that’s me,” Lance responds, throwing his keys on the kitchen island and kicking off his shoes.

Keith peers up at him over the rim of his glasses. “Come here for a sec,” he nudges the chair next to him with his bare foot. Lance stares at Keith. Hm, weird. Keith narrows his eyes when he doesn’t move. Oh. Right, moving. Yep, on it. He pads towards his friend.

Lance smiles at Keith, hip-checking the table and reaching his arm forward to adjust the shorter man’s glasses with his knuckles gently, “You need to get these fixed, shorty.”

Keith bats his hand away and scowls, “Sit.”

Lance chuckles but acquiesces, “Seriously, it’s too loose.” As if on cue, Keith’s glasses slide down his nose again. Lance snorts, “Told you.”

Keith socks him on the arm, hard, “Shut up.”

“Ow, so mean!” Lance pouts as he rubs his arm, “What do you want from me, anyway?”

Keith adjusts himself on the chair, tucking his left foot under his right thigh, and turns his laptop towards Lance so he can see his own words staring back at him. “This won’t do,” Keith says seriously as he pushes his glasses back with his middle finger.

Lance drums his fingers on the table. “What?”

“Lance, this isn’t working.”

Lance’s fingers freeze, his brows rising, “What do you mean this isn’t working??”

“I mean…” he deadpans, “I can’t edit this, it’s total bullshit. There’s no hope.”

Lance bristles, “ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, KEITH????”

Keith snickers, “Maybe a little?”

Lance throws his head back and glares in exasperation at the ceiling, bringing his hands up to cover his face and groaning, “God, please, take me now.” After a moment, he lets his hands fall back on the table. “You know,” he starts, turning his head back so he can glower at Keith properly, “If you weren’t so good at editing and I wasn’t so desperate, I wouldn’t even think of asking you to do this for me, ‘cause you’re a serious fucking prickly pain in my fucking miserable ass.”

Keith smirks and shrugs, “Thanks.”

Lance splutters, “THAT WASN’T A COMPLIMENT.”

Keith doesn’t respond, though, he just stares at Lance in a weird way. A very, very weird way.

Lance touches his face, self-conscious, “Is there something on my-”

“Huh,” Keith blurts out, interrupting Lance.

“Keith?” Lance questions with a frown, worrying for his friend’s sanity.

“Sorry,” Keith blinks at him and blushes.

Lance squints, “Dude, what the fuck.”

“Lance, don’t freak out, but…” Keith adjusts his glasses, “I might have an idea.”

Lance huffs, “Don’t strain yourself.”

Keith scowls, “Shut up and hear me out, asshole.”

“Okay,” Lance leans back on his chair and crosses his arms, “I’ll bite.”

“I think we should…” Keith snaps the rubber band on his wrist, “Uhm, fuck?”

Lance chokes on his own spit and coughs so hard his chair almost topples over.

“Are you okay, Lance?” Keith asks, his voice concerned but amused.

“Fuck?” Lance croaks after some time, slapping his chest and blinking away tears.

“Yeah,” Keith’s mouth twitches. “For research, obviously.”

Lance can only gape at Keith, his chest heaving. Lance’s lungs are burning so, so bad.

“Look, I’ll be straight with you,“ Keith runs his fingers through his FUGLY mullet, “your writing style’s actually pretty decent. You’re eloquent, I’ll give you that. But you suck at writing sex scenes… maybe from lack of experience?” Keith teases, then winces when Lance kicks his shin under the table.

Is this guy for fucking serious? They should fuck? What kind of joke is this?

“No, but seriously.” Keith insists, “Even though the sex scenes are well-written, they lack passion, which is kind of a surprise coming from you. You clearly need some inspiration and I think being actually in character might really help, is all.”

“AND BY THAT YOU MEAN THE TWO OF US FUCKING???”

Keith bites his bottom lip in amusement and nods. He doesn’t tease, which is a first. Lance is thankful but still.

“OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Lance yells in disbelief, then takes a deep, recomposing breath. “Okay. So uh, let me get this straight… you think we should fuck this one out?”

Keith shrugs again, “I mean, if you want to.”

“Huh.” Lance’s mouth twitches, “That’s crazy but okay.”

“What?”

Lance rolls his eyes and waves him off, “I said fine, Keith. Let’s do this.”

Keith smirks, turning his attention back to his laptop. Lance stares at the side of his face then chuckles. “Gotta say, though,” Lance leers, “I didn’t know you wanted to fuck me this bad, mullet head.”

“SHUT UP!” Keith pushes Lance off his chair.

Lance can’t fucking sleep.

He tries playing dead for a while and when that doesn’t work, he settles upon changing positions back and forth.

He kicks off the sheets in frustration, takes his shirt off, turns to his side, rolls on his stomach, burrows his face into his pillow. Props himself up on his elbows and huffs, lies back down. Flips his pillow over and presses his face to the cool fabric.

It doesn’t work.

He rolls on his back and lets his eyes dart around the room as he taps his chest with his thumbs, chewing on his bottom lip.

Nothing fucking works.

He blinks up at the ceiling and blows a raspberry.

“i think we should… uhm, fuck?” he mimics under his breath.

Fucking Keith.

God, he can’t do this.

He reaches for his phone on his nightstand and brings the device closer to his face, adjusting himself on the bed. He unlocks the phone and almost drops it right on his face in agony because, wow, such brightness. He turns down the brightness on his screen and blinks several times before tapping open his messages with Hunk.

He starts typing furiously.

Lance (2:06 a.m.)

HUNK U UP

HUNK HUNK

HUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUNKKKK

HELP

Hunk (2:08 a.m.)

why hello lance my good buddy how are you?

i’m fine thanks for asking ure so kind

what can i do for you this alarmingly late???

Lance (2:10 a.m.)

I CANR SLEEP HUNK HELP

HEPL ME

IM GONNA DIE

KEITHS A SERIAL KILLER AND HES COMING AFTER ME WITH HIS DICK

KEITHS GONNA KILL ME WITH HIS DICKKKKKKKKK

Hunk (2:13 a.m.)

i think ure overreacting a bit lance

calm down and explain this to me like a normal human being

breathe in

breathe out

Lance (2:14 a.m.)

ICANT HUNK H

U

N

K

WHAT AM I DOING WITH MY LIFEEEEEEEEEEEE

Hunk (2:17 a.m.)

i still need an explanation

please cUT THE DRAMATICS

IM GETTING REAL WORRIED HERE AND YOU KNOW WHAT WORRYING DOES TO MY STOMACH!!!!!!!

ITS NOT PRETTY LANCE SO SPILL

Lance (2:18 a.m.)

EW GROSS

but okay

so

fucking keith came up with this fucking INSANE idea that we should FUCK

HE SAID WE SHOULD FUCK HUNK cuz my sex scenes were like AWFUL and he thought that was a brilliant idea HE SAID I LACK EXPERIENCE THE ASSHOLE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! CAN U BELIEVE THE NERVE????? and i went with it cuz i HAVE THE MORAL DUTY to prove him wrong and now im gonna die

okay get this

this is the weirdest part

its not only cuz i gotta prove him wrong but cuz i kinda wanna fuck the bastard for my own self-indulging and impure reasons

Hunk (2:23 a.m.)

lance not even rover thinks thats weird and hes a DOG

Lance (2:24 a.m.)

IMHYPERVENTILATING HERE AND URE MAKING FUN OF ME

URE A TERRIBLE BEST FRIEND

TERRIBLE I TELL U

IM HAVING A CRISIS HERE HUNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

OH MY GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOD

HES SO HOT HUNK HELP ME I CANT DO THIS

IM GONNA DIE

RIP LANCE

Hunk (2:26 a.m.)

lance youre not gonna die

jesus

i thought this was serious

Lance (2:27 a.m.)

GASP

it IS SERIOUS HUNK CANT U SEE IM A DEAD MAN WALKING?????? THIS IS PRETTYFUCKIGN SERIOUs HUNK

at first i thought i could do it but then i started thinking about it and now IM FREAKING THE FUCK OUT HELP HUNK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Hunk (2:29 a.m.)

calm down lance its just keith

its not like he’s gonna make fun of you or anything

Lance (2:30 a.m.)

HUNK???????? DID U HIT UR HEAD OR SOMETHING???? SHOULD I BE WORRIED????? CALL AN AMBULANCE??????? ITS FUCKING KEITH WERE TALKING ABOUT DUDE!!!! MISTER MCMULLET CAPTAIN GRUMPY PANTS!!!!!!!

Hunk (2:33 a.m.)

well i mean not too much???

Lance (2:33 a.m.)

hUNK!!!!!!!

Hunk (2:34 a.m.)

okay you got me

youre never gonna live this down good luck man

it was nice knowing you

Lance (2:35 a.m.)

well thanks

for ABSOLUTELY NOTHING

Hunk (2:35 a.m.)

you know i love you bro

seriously tho

you dont have to worry about this too much

keiths your friend after all isnt he

not to mention hes a cool bean, a real gem

do you trust him?

Lance (2:36 a.m.)

well duh i wouldnt be living with the guy if i didnt

Hunk (2:39 a.m.)

there it is

he knows all about your weird fixations and habits and is still there

thats gotta count for something right???

its not like hes gonna judge for real

hes just gonna tease the hell outta you which is normal behavior for him

and youll tease him right back

so DONT WORRY LANCE GO

BE BRAVE MY CHILD

CONQUER THAT BOOTY!!!!!!!

COMPLETE YOUR QUEST!!!!!!!!!

Lance (2:42 a.m.)

ohmy GOD hunk ure so embarrassing

thanks tho

for real

Hunk (2:42 a.m.)

anytime ;)

Lance (2:43 a.m.)

Lance sighs, turns on his side only to place his phone back on his nightstand, then rolls on his stomach, burying his face deep in his pillow. He closes his eyes and wills himself to fucking sleep.

About thirty minutes later, he’s out.

[space-lesbians]

Today was fairly hectic at work, I was trying to catch up things I have to write for my supervisor but mostly out of the classrooms I work in and in the office I share with 10 other people, lunch was good, I got to draw and make pro-lgbt+ stickers with kids and listen to a girl tell me how she was “the world’s biggest fan of naruto” so should have my sasuke poster when she leaves, our after-school program was hard today because one of the people who helps run it who knows the 6th grades well was out sick, and the kids didn’t want to draw, and then they wanted to paint everywhere, and didn’t want to help clean. One student, who we’ve had since the start of the year and who we’ve talked to a bit about her being bi and having trouble coming out to her mom but wanting to, was wearing a bandana around her wrist that she hadn’t before and when she took it off to clean paintbrushes I saw she had cut marks, and I talked to her about it at the end of the day after other kids had been picked up while she was waiting on her brother, and she said they were just a few days old and I asked her if she was still seeing the therapist she was a couple months ago and she said yes and I talked to her about things she could do like snapping a rubber band or holding ice instead and I’m going to check in with her tomorrow during lunch but I feel like I said the wrong things and I dont know if I need to report it to anyone I’m just going to ask her tomorrow how she is and encourage her to talk to her dad because she trusts him, I had to raise my voice today about paint and want to be done being sick and I’m so emotionally drained and want to help my student more but don’t know what more I can do because I can’t and im just glad im not in the spot others I’ve known have been in where someone disclosed a situation of abuse with their parents where they had to write a report bc of mandated reporting. 

[forumtechgq-blog]

Putting the wide in widescreen: the Toshiba Satellite U845W looked into This 21:9 exceptionally widescreen Ultrabook targets multitaskers and Windows 8 users.

One of the issues with today's Ultrabooks (and with PC tablets when all is said in done) is separation—so a considerable lot of the parts and components are comparable crosswise over various models and producers that it's difficult to emerge from the pack. Ivy Bridge processor? Coordinated illustrations? 1366x768 screen? Everyone has those. What else you got?

With its Satellite U845W, Toshiba is accomplishing something that is in any event extraordinary, if nothing else: this tablet takes similar internal parts utilized as a part of different Ultrabooks and includes a far reaching 1792x768 show with a 21:9 viewpoint proportion, focusing straightforwardly at motion picture buffs and multitaskers who need or need bunches of flat breathing room for their windows. Is this broad screen enough to give the U845W an edge over different Ultrabooks, or does it push the tablet too far into specialty domain?

The screen

The 21:9 1792x768 screen is advertised as being perfect for two things: watching motion pictures in their local perspective proportion, and putting two windows alongside each other. The screen's corner to corner size is 14.4", however the extraordinary perspective proportion really makes the U845W closer the tallness of a 11" scratch pad while as yet holding the width of a 14" or 15" model.With two windows taking up precisely 50% of the screen, there is undoubtedly significantly less level looking than on a standard 1366x768 screen, however it's not ousted altogether—most Web locales are planned around a base 1024x768 canvas, so the approximately 890 extensive window still isn't exactly sufficiently wide to see everything.To upgrade the utility of the wide screen to substantial multitaskers, Toshiba has incorporated a Split Screen utility, a standout amongst the most valuable OEM additional items I've experienced as of late. It enables you to resize a couple of windows to take up lopsided parts of the screen—permitting, for instance, one window to take up a 1024 or 1366 vast space, and the second window to utilize the rest of. This can be helpful in situations where you have a program or an archive that needs more space, and another program like an IM or Twitter customer that lone needs a restricted strip.Widescreen motion pictures do in fact look pleasant on the board, however 4:3 and 16:9 substance winds up with even more extensive flat letterboxing than before—the portable workstation's wide screen is valuable for the individuals who jump at the chance to watch recordings while they work or peruse the web, in any case. The tablet's speakers are noisy and don't mutilate at high volumes, however just like the standard for portable workstation speakers, there's very little bass going on.The U845W's TN show is generally unremarkable—humble flat review edges, poor vertical ones, and marginally dull hues—yet the principle downside of the screen is that, while the additional width is pleasant to work with, the primary issue with the 1366x768 screens that such a large number of portable PCs are saddled with isn't level determination, yet vertical determination. 1792x768 is only the 21:9 form of 1366x768, and when I had utilized it for a couple of hours I was at that point longing for a knock to 2100x900 (which, unexpectedly, would likewise resolve the issue with survey two 1024x768 windows one next to the other).

Development and style

The U845W is part "midnight silver" aluminum (however to my eye it's somewhat nearer to burgundy), and part rubber treated dark plastic. The pleasant part about the last is that it doesn't go about as a unique mark magnet, however tidy does promptly stick to it. Its port format is better than average however not remarkable—two USB ports and a 100Mb Ethernet port on the left; a card peruser space on the front; and another USB 3.0 port, a HDMI port, and earphone and amplifier jacks on the right.Open the tablet, and you'll be welcomed by a hard plastic wrist rest and Toshiba's standard illuminated Ultrabook console—a similar one utilized by the 16:9 Satellite U840 Ultrabook, the up and coming U925t convertible tablet, and others. It's not my top choice; the keys are somewhat shallow and soft even contrasted with other chiclet consoles, and they are marginally rectangular—they're similarly as wide as the keys on consoles from ASUS, Apple, Acer, and so forth, however for reasons unknown not exactly as tall. Like all consoles, you get accustomed to it with some time, yet it simply doesn't feel as firm as I'd like.The trackpad is a vast, finished plastic multitouch undertaking with no committed catches. With the most recent drivers introduced, it works typically—tap-to-snap, right clicking with two fingers, and kind of-inertial two-finger looking over are all accessible. The two-finger looking over makes a go at being inertial, yet the final product is crude. The rendition of the drivers I utilized additionally had a "drifting" choice empowered naturally which makes the looking over constant until you move the mouse, which you'll either need to get used to or debilitate in the trackpad's settings. Tapping the lower-left and lower-right corners of the trackpad (where the catches would be on a more seasoned style trackpad) additionally conjures left and right snaps.

The tablet's all inclusive size may bring about issues with packs or different extras—my portable PC sack is made to convey 13" and 14" tablets, however the finish of the U845W stands out a bit. The U845W likewise tips the scales at a powerful for-a Ultrabook four pounds, while the more slender 11" and 13" Ultrabooks frequently weigh in the vicinity of two and three pounds.

Internals and execution

The U854w utilizes Ivy Bridge processors and chipsets and the Intel HD 4000 incorporated GPU, which ought to disclose to you essentially all that you have to think about its execution. Our audit unit incorporated a Core i7-3517U CPU running at 1.90GHz, precisely the same found in the ASUS UX31A we evaluated, so I'll point you toward that path in case you're searching for benchmarks. Less expensive adaptations of the note pad likewise transport with a 1.7GHz Core i5-3317U, a similar CPU in the Acer Timeline A5 we audited—in any case, Ivy Bridge Ultrabooks keep on being okay for most broad registering assignments. The base of the tablet gets warm while the portable workstation is buckling down, and when the single framework fan kicks in the tablet can get entirely noisy—in typical utilize, however, it wasn't upsetting to deal with or to tune in to.

Our audit unit additionally incorporated a zippy 256GB SSD, however bring down estimated variants can accompany standard turning hard drives combined with little SSD reserves. Be that as it may, the U845W falls behind a bit in its systems administration capacities. While others in this value class generally offer gigabit Ethernet and double band 802.11n remote, our survey unit offered just 100Mb Ethernet and single-band 2.4GHz WiFi.

Toshiba rates the SSD-prepared models at 9.05 hours of battery life, and the hard drive-toting models at 8.36 hours. This will clearly fluctuate in view of utilization and screen shine, among different variables, however the producer's gauge appeared to be slightly hopeful in light of our time with the gadget—hope to get battery life in the in the high six-hour or low seven-hour go with the greater part of Windows' default settings.

Repairability and upgradeability

The U845W has eleven Phillips head screws on its underside, one of which is covered up under a little elastic stub in the focal point of the tablet. Evacuate them, and the base of the portable PC pulls away without much exertion. There is a little link that associates the power jack to the motherboard which falls off with the base case—you'll need to be cautious with it while dismantling the tablet, and obviously make a point to reconnect it amid reassembly so the portable workstation determination on.Opening the portable workstation gives you access to the RAM, mSATA hard drive, remote card, and hard drive (for models with a mechanical hard drive). Strangely, the SSD-just models seem to utilize a mSATA SSD and leave the fundamental hard drive narrows purge to spare weight. You can see the territory where a hard drive (most likely a 7mm high form) would go beneath the memory and to one side of the SSD and remote card.

There is a solitary accessible RAM space in the U845W which can bolster up to 8GB of RAM, making for an aggregate of 10GB when you calculate the 2GB of RAM patched onto the motherboard. Some other redesigns or repairs would require advance dismantling of the tablet, putting them well into guarantee voiding domain.

Windows 8 encounter

The U845W's odd screen size is in reality exceptionally appropriate for Windows 8, which will extend to exploit extra vertical pixels however is still on a level plane situated. The Start screen can show additional sections of tiles, and the Snap include specifically turns out to be less prominent when you have more space to work with.Toshiba is likewise offering beta Windows 8 drivers that empower the local trackpad signals: swiping in from the correct edge of the trackpad with one finger raises the Charms menu, swiping in from the left will go through your running applications, and swiping down from the top summons application particular menus. The beta drivers are somewhat irritable—not each signal I made enlisted—but rather we trust the creation quality drivers will be somewhat better.

Conclusions

The Satellite U845W makes them intrigue thoughts, particularly for multi-screen multitaskers—given the decision between its wide 1792x768 show and a standard 1366x768 show, I'd be extremely enticed by the more extensive choice. Notwithstanding, that same largeness can make it clumsy to convey, and it's a bit on the substantial side contrasted with its other 13" brethren.

It's an extremely fascinating thought and Toshiba merits focuses for creativity, however standard 16:9 PCs with 1080p showcases (like the ASUS Zenbook Prime) can at present fit more on their screens than the U845W, and they do it in a standard-sized bundle that measures less to boot. Indeed, even 1600x900 16:9 showcases are near the U845W regarding the measure of information they can appear on-screen: Toshiba's widescreen try looks at pretty positively to the 1366x768 screens that excess the Ultrabook and low-to-mid-end tablet markets, yet much of the time a higher-determination 16:9 show will be a superior decision.