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miyahchan · 4 months ago

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Week One - October 2nd - Ghost!Gojo x Reader

Synopsis: After the death of your boyfriend, Gojo Satoru, you can still feel his lingering touch.

Word Count: 1.6k

🚨 Warnings: 18+ content, oral sex (female receiving), multiple orgasms, creampie, penetration, overall super smutty.

The content in this post contains spoilers for the anime / manga! Also, there is a good amount of angst here :) 🚨

Check out the official Kinktober 2024 post HERE!

On the bus back home, you felt the same pair of eyes boring into the back of your skull. You didn’t want to turn around again – no, you couldn’t.

You slid your compact mirror from your purse, flipping it up and angling it toward the back of the bus. From the glass, you saw nothing but empty seats behind you. The other passengers had gotten off miles ago, leaving you as the last stop. It was only you and the bus driver. Or at least that’s what you were convincing yourself was true. But you had to be sure.

A heavy sigh escapes you and it feels like it takes every fiber of your being to turn around. You knew he’d be there. He always was. Your eyes landed on him. He sat all the way in the back, merely a figure sticking out from the shadows.

It was Gojo, again. Your lover. Your deceased lover.

His blue orbs held your gaze, never breaking away. He was pale, paler than the last time you’d seen him. He wore a tight, black shirt and white pants – the outfit he’d died in. He never wore anything else when you saw him, not even the clothes you’d gotten him as a gift over the many years you’d been together. It was a sick reminder, and you didn’t know who to blame. You knew your brain was conjuring up a twisted image of your lover, a sad amalgamation of the pain you’d been feeling over the past few months. He couldn’t possibly be there, right?

You rush off the bus as soon as you reach your destination. The thin, winter air smacks your face as your legs carry you down the sidewalk and toward your apartment building. You don’t dare to turn back. He’d be there, yet again, not even chasing you. Just… there.

Your apartment was quiet that night as it was every night. You had run a warm bath and even drank some herbal tea, trying to calm your nerves, but nothing worked. You were scared. It was a horrible feeling to be scared to see. To be scared to look in the corner or look in the mirror or even open your eyes in the morning. You weren’t scared of Gojo. No, quite the opposite. Gojo Satoru was your comfort, your home, your heart. But what lingered in your peripheral every passing moment of the day wasn’t your Gojo. It was just what remained of him.

What did you do to deserve this? That was the question you asked yourself every day. You hadn’t cursed him, as you knew what would happen if you did. You wanted him to move on from this earth and find peace wherever he ended up, but somehow, he was still here.

You had stared at the ceiling until you eventually dozed off in your bed, but you woke up as suddenly as you fell asleep. The digital clock on your nightstand was a neon blur but you made out the numbers as you slowly came to – 2:36 am. A surge of paranoia rushed through your body as the image of Gojo watching you on the bus flashed in your mind. You jumped up to check your surroundings, ready to catch those eyes staring at you from the corner of the room but something stopped you.

There was a weight on you, stopping you from moving.

You feel trapped and your eyes travel down only to find arms wrapped around your torso. A shiver ran down your spine and you didn’t know if it was from fear or the fact that whoever held you was cold. Freezing cold.

“Gojo?” The word fell shakily from your mouth.

You felt his fingers begin to trace the skin under your shirt, leaving a trail of goosebumps behind. You melted into the familiar touch, falling slack and just now noticing the strong build resting behind you. You lean back into Gojo’s broad chest and let him touch you. His hands move upwards, caressing your breasts and letting his ice-cold fingers run over your nipples.

You weren’t sure when you’d gained the confidence for it, but you interrupt him and turn around to face him. You froze in your tracks. Instead of the lifeless gaze that had been watching you endlessly, his eyes were warm and his skin was flushed, like life had been breathed back into his body. His hair was fluffy and messy, just like how it would be in the mornings before he got ready to go teach his students.

“You’re crying.” His voice knocked you from your thoughts. It was his usual mocking tone, something you’d missed hearing more than anything. A smirk adorned his face.

Wiping your eyes, you realized that you indeed were crying. You punctuated this with a sniffle. “I- how are you…”

Gojo didn’t answer the question, instead opting to just watch you. The smirk remained, but behind his eyes, there was something there. Sadness. Before you could comment, he put a hand on the back of your head and brought you toward him, smashing his lips against yours. You kissed him back with no hesitation. The kiss was needy, like you were having your first taste of oxygen after not being able to breathe for so long. You forced his mouth open and slipped your tongue in, tasting everything Gojo had to offer. He still tasted the same. You work on getting your clothes off as you indulge in him. Gojo is just as desperate as you. As soon as you’re naked, he strips as well, his lips only leaving yours to take off his shirt.

You moan into his mouth as he flips you over, his strong hands roaming all over your body. He grips your hips, your thighs, your breasts, anything he can get his hands on. His lips leave yours only to move to your neck, where he sucks the skin passionately, leaving purple bruises. He travels down, leaving a track of hickeys wherever his lips land. When he reaches your pussy, you spread your legs eagerly.

“Please, baby, please…” Is all you can breathe out before Gojo latches onto your clit and you let out a sharp moan. His hands keep your thighs apart as he devours you. He focuses on your clit first, the teasing that you were accustomed to throughout your relationship being replaced with pure desire. His tongue swirls around your bud, gathering up your juices and he spits them harshly on your clit before attacking it again. He then takes your clit between his lips and sucks, making you arch your back high off the bed. His eyes are closed, relishing in your taste as his tongue slips and slides in your pussy. He focuses on your entrance, sliding his tongue in and out until he feels your legs start to shake in his grasp.

You scream as you cum on his face and your juices coat his lips. He flattens his tongue as you grind against it, riding out your orgasm. God, you missed this. You grind on his tongue until you overstimulate yourself, and you collapse against the mattress.

Gojo clearly isn’t finished with you as he climbs on top of you, licking your cum off his lips before he kisses you again. He’s uncharacteristically quiet as the two of you make out yet again, not even making a noise when you run your fingers through his hair and pull at the strands. Before you can think about it, you feel Gojo sliding his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your wetness on his length before he sheathes his entire length inside of you.

Even though it had been so long, you could never forget the pleasure of finally feeling your lover inside of you. He’d always stretched you out so good, and tonight was no exception. You whine as he starts to slide in and out achingly slow, prepping you. His tip is already kissing your g-spot and his pelvis stimulates your already sensitive clit every time your hips meet. You could orgasm from this alone, but Gojo had always been an overachiever. He speeds up his pace and presses his body against yours so that you’re chest to chest, hitting a different angle than before.

“Gojo! Ah, right there!” You moan in his ear, unashamed of how loud you are. At the same time, Gojo is moaning in yours. It’s a mix of curses and desperate whines that escape him as he drills into you.

“I’m…” He groans when you clench around his dick just right. “I’m going to miss this.”

His words fly right over your head as you feel a second orgasm building in your stomach. You swear he starts to fuck you even deeper and at that point, he’s fucking you into the mattress. “Oh god, I’m..”

“Me too.” The two of you reach your orgasms together, the room filling with nothing but the sounds of skin on skin and cries of pleasure. You pulse around him, milking him until you feel him cum inside of you. You coat him in a thin, shiny layer of your juices as he finally slows down to a halt. He’s still inside of you as he stares down at your now worn-out form.

The last thing you remember before you fall asleep is his lips mouthing the words, “I love you.”

You woke up alone that next morning, buried in a pile of blankets and your withdrawn clothing. Gojo was gone. He was gone when you rode the bus to work. He was gone when you ran your weekly errands. He was gone when you came back to your apartment every night.

You never saw your lover again, not even in the corner of your eye.

#miyahchan #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader smut #gojo satoru smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #jjk gojo #miyahchan Kinktober 2024 #gojo satoru #angst smut #anime smut #gojo kinktober #gojo satoru x reader

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martsonmars · 27 days ago

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Hi friends! I keep committing and recommitting to making a serious effort to come back to the fandom, and I think this time finally I got my Snowbaz feelings back for real. So I'm going to try. Thank you to everyone who kept tagging me; I'm a little lost re: new people existing on Tumblr, but I hope to catch up!

So much to do in this post. For now, some snippets.

Exhibit A: my writing goal for the month. It's okay if it doesn't work out, but I decided I need short-term writing goals and this is my first one.

Baz pushes his sunglasses up his nose, staring at the man behind the counter of the shop. He hopes that hiding in plain sight—without his costume, without his mask—is a more effective disguise than trying to wear a fake moustache.

The apron is there, gloriously stretching over a broad chest that does not turn Baz's insides into soup and make him wish he could go back three—five, ten—years and do everything differently.

Exhibit B: COBB idea. I'm so excited!!!!!!!!!!!!

Going right is never the right choice.

I've known this since the first time my father brought me along on his travels (read: I hid in his trunk) and I had to face a crocodile armed only with a blunt Swiss Army knife I'd stolen from said trunk. All because I'd turned right. And then right again.

When he found me, scraped knees and his precious knife lost in the belly of the beast, he didn't even yell. He just looked at me like he always did. Like the biggest disappointment in his life of failures.

Exhibit C: potential second COBB idea, that I'm going to submit only if I make enough progress by the end of the month.

[Baz] holds my hand like it's the only thing keeping him grounded. Present. The minutes are trickling away from us like sand in a broken hourglass. The sun hasn't started rising yet, the night as dark as it gets, the cold seeping into our bones.

He holds my hand like he's afraid he'd float away if he didn't.

I know I'd be glad if it happened.

I have a lot of fandom resolutions for this year and I'm scared they'll end up like any New Year's resolutions... but I'll list them anyway. 6 resolutions Sunday:

Be more involved on Tumblr. I want to post more, but especially start reblogging and commenting on things again.

Write more. Last year I wrote so little and posted even less, and it made me sad when I realised it in the past days. So much was going on, so I don't blame myself, but I miss writing and I believe I can try to make it a regular thing again.

I want to read more fics. It's been years since I last read fics consistently. I missed everything!! Time to slowly catch up.

Relatedly, I want to try to comment more. I've never been a great commenter because it overwhelms me, but it's hypocritical since I need everyone and their brother to leave 10 paragraph long comments on everything I write... So I want to commit to doing better.

I want to try to publish a fic every month, at least. @palimpsessed suggested doing some sort of monthly countdown to Carry On's birthday in October and I'm all in.

I want to succeed at COBB. For one reason or the other, more often than not because I am cursed and I never finished writing my things, I've never managed to start and finish posting something for COBB. But I have two concepts I'm so excited about (not sure yet if I'll try both of them) and I want to commit to doing well. Wish me good luck.

My good old tagging list <3 I hope to add new people soon! But hi my dear old friends, how's it going?

@facewithoutheart @sillyunicorn @onepintobean @shrekgogurt @wellbelesbian @palimpsessed @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @forabeatofadrum @fatalfangirl @cutestkilla @ileadacharmedlife @bookish-bogwitch @artsyunderstudy @orange-peony @larkral @raenestee @stitchyqueer @hushed-chorus @technetiumai @brilla-brilla-estrellita @thewholelemon @theimpossibledemon @imagineacoolusername @blackberrysummerblog @theearlgreymage @rimeswithpurple @messofthejess @alexalexinii @whatevertheweather @jbrrring @prettygoododds @youarenevertooold @best--dress @theotherhufflepuff @monbons @run-for-chamo-miles @confused-bi-queer @aristocratic-otter @dragoneggos @gekkoinapeartree @ionlydrinkhotwater @erzbethluna @shemakesmeforget @basiltonbutliketheherb @otherpeoplesheartachept-2 @noblecorgi @j-nipper-95

#six sentence sunday #my writing

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absolutebl · 1 year ago

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Hey Abl, trust you are well. So I took a month off bl to deal with life stuff and upon my return there's a lot of new shows and I'm feeling overwhelmed and need to prioritize. What should I start with that started airing in late October/November? Spanx!

BL Quick Picks - End of 2023 Releases

That finished its run? Sorry I don't keep that close track of things ending but stuff I loved that ended relatively recently as follows. (I'm giving you a range of styles to suit your mood.)

Felling light and fluffy?

Jun & Jun

(Korea Viki)

A delightful office romance about an ex-idol who joins cubical life only to find his new boss is his first love. Others boys are sniffing around too. Operative word being "sniffing" as much of this romance involves smell. With a snappy (sometimes even raunchy) script, enjoyable sides, a pretty as peaches cast, and descent chemistry this show made up for in style what it lacked in substance. I like fluff. I loved this. I smiled every moment I was watching. With tons of rewatch potential (especially the last few eps), my only caution is this is for fans of the BL genre only, I don’t think it’ll work for anyone else. 9/10

Feeling complex and drama llama?

I Feel You Linger in the Air

(Thailand grey, YT for some)

I truly loved this time travel romance. IFYLITA is an exquisite BL, from filming techniques to narrative framework (much like Until We Meet Again). Steeped in history and family drama it edges into lakorn (but no as much as To Sir With Love and with way less scenery chewing). This is an elegant and classy BL… from Thailand which normally doesn't even try for classy. The main couple (both as a pair and individuals) were excellent, particularly Bright (Yai) whose eye-work acting style is a personal favorite of mine. Pity about the ending. Oh it wasn’t that sad but it wasn’t good either. This show should easily have earned a 10 from me except that it fumbled the… erm… balls. Argh. Whatever. 9/10

Feeling odd and chaotic?

Why R U?

(Korea iQIYI)

Korea decided to remake, of all possible Thai BLs, Why RU? And that is exactly what we got: a short form, clean & pretty, slightly confusing, uneven chemistry, all the same tropes KBL that kind of cliff-noted the original but with none of the heat or complex relationship dynamics. I just … what world is this? Because it is BOTH bizarro land, and EXACTLY what I expected. How do I rate it? In the end I have to go back to simple questions: did I like it, would I rewatch it, and would I recommend it? Yes. Probably. And probably not. What the actual hell? 8/10

Feeling dark and complex?

Tokyo in April is AKA Shigatsu no Tokyo wa

(Japan Viki)

Two young men with a shared tragic past reunite and fall in love all over again, but the past will not stop hunting them. Based on a manga, this office set reunion romance is GREAT… damn it. It’s Japan in full on soft focus which means it gets emo, abusive, and chewy. These two characters are giving parts of their souls away in a desperate attempt to shape themselves to the expectations they have of each other. Japan gave us the Bed Friends that Thailand could never even imagine. But here’s the thing: I don’t enjoy my BL this heavy and cutting. I know that for The 8th Sense crowd this is peak BL and I can’t argue with the fact that the romantic devotion, domesticity, script, and acting IS all on point. It’s just not my personal preference for that point to be so damn sharp. I appreciate that this being 2023 I have the luxury of consistent quality (especially from Japan) and thus the ability to say… I acknowledge that this SHOULD get a 9/10 but I can’t emotionally go higher than 8/10

Feeling sappy and in need of comfort?

Stay By My Side

(Taiwan Viki)

This show was an interesting take on the "ghost boyfriend" trope. About a boy who is tormented by hearing the dead, except when he is around one other boy - desperation+proximity = love. Unfortunately, the story was erratic and waffled about. While the leads turned in solid performances and the sappy domesticity was off the charts, it never really had the strength of the narrative convictions such a strong concept should have supplied. Highly rewatchable and enjoyable for that sappy domesticity but not a whole lot more. Still I always give extra credit for the diabetes-inducing sugar content and rewatch capacity. 8/10

Feeling sexy?

My Personal Weatherman AKA Taikan Yoho

(Japan Gaga)

I liked it a lot and it's classic yaoi of the kind that really only works from Japan. Basically: boys who fell in love in college end up living together but both are so repressed they actually don't realize they're in love. It's higher heat from Japan and well done, but it leaned into the "why don't they just talk for fuck's sake?" trope which is only exacerbated into undiluted frustration by the fact that they're already fucking. It's good, but watching requires more patience than usual, even from Japan. 8/10

Feeling sweet and earnest?

Sing My Crush

(Korea iQIYI)

This a cute coming of age drama around music and 2 kinds of self acceptance and actualization journeys. This was basically Korea’s version of About Youth, and was perhaps a bit too soft and ungrounded by comparison, like a marshmallow sculpture. Sweet but somewhat lacking in discernible flavor. 8/10

If you want to know what I'm enjoying that's airing right now, I'm mot yet caught up this week but I have time today so the weekly ranking will drop in a few hours. But I can tell you with confidence that very little is likely to unseat...

My Dear Gangster Oppa (Thailand iQiyi)

from my affections right now. I love it unconditionally and it's airing on iQIYI.

#asked and answered #2023 BL recomendations #end of year only #ouch burn on GMMTV none of theirs made the cute #stop fuckign up GMMTV #thai bl #japanese bl #korean bl #taiwanese bl #my dear gangster oppa #Sing My Crush #my personal weatherman #Stay By My Side #Tokyo in April is #Why R U? Korea #i feel you linger in the air #Jun and Jun #viki #gaga

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chen-chen-chen-again-chen · 1 year ago

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Friends! Hello, hi, hola! It's Wednesday and I'm here! I am finally, after several ice ages, slowly dipping my toes back into the world of My Good Egg, Good morning, good night, good morning AKA the SnowBaz kidnapping meet ugly/cute that turned into a dumb horny rom com.

Here's a snippet from Chapter 4 that I am honestly not sure will make it into the finished fic, but it's fun! Some info redacted for spoilers (if you haven't read Chapter 3):

“Does Simon know things?” Crowley, does Simon know the way that Baz has been lusting after him? Or how Baz has been - mooning over him? Which is more embarrassing? “No, not necessarily. But he’s the easiest one for me to know, maybe because [REDACTED]. Like right now I know he’s still kind of hungry and he wishes we’d ordered more lime beef, and he’s worried you won’t want to have sex with him anymore because he used to be a disembodied chaos entity that was swallowing up all the magic in the world.” “That’s-” “I know you still want to have sex with him,” Winifred says, her gaze withering.

More musings about being back in this world behind the cut, but hello and thank you tags to folks who have tagged me in the past few weeks! (Months? Year?) @shemakesmeforget @ic3-que3n @bookish-bogwitch @nightimedreamersworld @j-nipper-95 @larkral @cutestkilla @aristocratic-otter @confused-bi-queer @imagineacoolusername @thewesterndoor

Y'all, past year has been... wild. It has been a journey. I looked back at this update post from October and then sort of laughed wildly, like, "Oh Baby Chen of the past, oh you sweet summer child."

But! I have finally been able to soften and ease myself back into this kind of writing. My Good Egg (as I call Good morning &c) has always been in the back of my mind, and I have felt so much shame and guilt about leaving that story hanging (see this post that feels like it was written in a different lifetime about why I don't usually post WIPs).

I facilitated a writers' circle yesterday and it was the most intensely fulfilling and joyful thing I have done in a very, very long time. And seeing the writers there, some of whom were sharing their work for the first time, being so fucking brave and honest and intimate and funny and revelatory and generous and so human, paying such loving attention to the world - it has helped me in this process of re-learning how to be brave with my own writing, again.

So here is a secret to tricking My Big Sad Brain. Instead of setting out with the goal "I am going to finish this fic," I am instead telling myself, "What if I just continue this process and see where it goes? What if I just try to get a little bit further than I was before? What if I just play with this silly little story, because it's fun and it gives me joy? What if I try to work out the questions through the story instead of trying to answer them?"

And that is helping, a lot. So as always a BIG THANK YOU to everyone who has touched this story in any way. Your kindness and lack of judgement and infinite patience is such a balm. I know that there are many who would say "You never need to finish it! Your health is more important!" or "Take as much time as you need!" And I am so, so grateful for that. I am so excited to share the rest of this story with you in the future.

Thank you. I love you all. ❤️❤️❤️

#wip wednesday!?#good morning good night good morning #my good egg #the EGF fic that never ends #mild spice?#like one chili?#process not perfection #is literally the name of the book i am reading on trauma recovery XD

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queenalexandraofdenmark · 1 year ago

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Dowager Empress Maria Feodorovna to Tsar Nicholas II

November 21st, 1917.

The last letter Nicky ever got from his mother.

" My dear Nicky,

I have just received your letter of October 27th which has filled me with joy. I cannot find words to express my feelings and thank you with all my heart, my dear.

You know that my thoughts and prayers never leave you, I think of you day and night and sometimes feel so sick at heart that I believe I cannot bear it any longer. But God is merciful, He will give us strength for this terrible ordeal. Thank goodness you are allwell and that at least you live together and in comfort. A year has gone by already since you and darling Alexei came to see me at Kieff. Who could have thought then of all that was in store for us, and what

we should have to go through. It is unbelievable. I live only in my memories of the happy past and try as much as possible to forget the present nightmare. Misha has also written to me about your last meeting in the presence of witnesses and [illegible] and of your ghastly and revolting departure.

I received your first dear letter of September 19th and apologise for not having been able to answer it before, but Xenia will have explained the reason to you.

I am sorry you are not allowed to go for walks, I know how necessary it is for you and the dear children; it is an incomprehensible cruelty!

I have quite recovered from a long and tedious illness and am able to go out again after two months.

The weather is beautiful, especially during the last few days. We live very modestly and quietly and see nobody, as we are not allowed to leave the estate, which is a great nuisance.

It is a blessing I am with Xenia, Olga and the grandchildren, who dine with me by turns every day. My new grandson Tikhon is a source of joy to us all. He grows bigger and fatter every day and is such a darling, so charming and quiet. It is a pleasure to see how happy Olga is, and how delighted she is with her baby which she had hoped for for such a long time.

They live very snugly above the cellar. She and Xenia come to see me every morning, and we have our cocoa together, as we are always hungry. It is so difficult to get provisions, white bread and butter are the things I miss most, but sometimes I get some sent by kind people: Papa Felix [Yusupov, senior] sends crabs and butter for which I am very grateful.

Prince Shervashidze arrived a little while ago. It is very pleasant to have him as he is a great asset,

always in good spirits and amusing and so glad to be here and to have a rest after Petersburg where it was so awful.

I am very glad to get those dear letters from Alix and my granddaughters who all write so nicely. I thank and kiss them all.

We always think and talk about you. It is so sad to be separated, not to see one another, not to be able to talk.

I get letters from Aunt Alix and Waldemar [her sister and brother] from time to time, but they are so slow in coming and I just sit and wait. I long for news.

[Last phrase is in English]

I well understand how you must enjoy re reading your old letters and diaries, although those memories of a happy past rouse deep sorrow in the heart. I have not even got that consolation, for mine were all taken away from me in the spring when they searched the house all your letters, all those I received at Kieff, the children's letters, three diaries, etc., etc., and nothing has been returned yet, which is revolting, and for what reason, if I may ask?

Today is November 2nd, dear Misha's birthday. I believe he is still in town, God grant him health and happiness.

There has been a sudden break in the weather, a sharp wind is blowing and it is cold, only 3 degrees, and although the rooms are heated they are not warm enough, and my hands are cold.

Nikita saw K., the dentist [Kastritsky]. It was through him that I got some news about you. I am glad poor Alix does not suffer from toothache and that he has finished treating you.

I hope Isa B. [Buxhoeveden] has arrived safely and has recovered from her operation.

Please give my love to them all, also to Il. Tatishcheff.

Which servants have you got with you? I hope dear Teteridtnikoff went with you. I have only kept Yashchik and Poliakoff and have not enough words of praise for them, such splendid, trustworthy people. They serve at table and manage very well. Kukushkin and Yashchik are great friends and chatter a lot together.

On December 6th all my thoughts will be with you, my dear darling Nicky, and I send you my warmest wishes. God bless you, send you strength and peace of mind, and may He not allow Russia to perish.

I kiss you tenderly. May Christ be with you. Your fondly loving old

Mama. "

#empress maria feodorovna #dagmar of denmark #tsar nicholas ii #romanovs #1917 #letters/diary entries/quotes

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galactictwilight · 2 years ago

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Past's Order & Future's Chaos Part 1

________________*~*The*~*Story*~*Points*~*________________

I did not realize that there was a word cap, so I have to break this into multiple posts. Since I keep getting writers block when trying to make interconnected stories, I'm just going to put the plot point for each day and expand upon it in the other posts.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I'm not really good with one word prompts so I'm just going to take all the Ectober prompts and try to fuse them together into an interconnected frankenstein fic idea. I might even use the free days to add some more Ideas. Though, there might be a bit of lore from my other DP AU making it's way into this story idea. Unfortunately, I suck at characterization so all of the characters are probably going to be OOC. I'll try my best to do the DP characters justice. Anyways, I hope everyone likes my fic dump.

Summery: As September gives way to October, Danny is visited by Clockwork at the stroke of midnight with some alarming news. The month of October will truly live up to the horror it's known for as a truly hellish amount of drama consume not just Danny's life, but also those of his friends and family. Family secrets, tragedies, and truths are exposed. Will the bonds of family be broken? Will love conquer hate? Or will another great tragedy strike the Fenton, Manson, and Foley families once again.

And to think, we haven't even gone into detail about what Clockwork told Danny yet...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Spoopy~*Line~*Break~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Past's Order Prompts

Witch - "Her name was Samantha..." Pamela whispered with grief.

Sam stopped her aggravated exit to turn and look at her mother with an expression of confused surprise as a soft involuntary "what?" trailed out of her mouth.

Pamela adjuster her position on the siting room lounge to lean over the opened scrapbook on her lap. The dusty box it had come from lay haphazardly by her leg where Sam had dropped it. Many macabre trinkets and books where held inside along with dark articles of clothing. The scrapbook itself contained a multitude of pictures with two teenage girls in a punk style of clothing.

The shorter one had puffed out blond hair with pink tips, light peach skin, and aquamarine eyes. A gold chain adorned her neck and she wore a 'Theater of Hate' shirt with a black spiked girdle. Only one of her arms had a black almost elbow long glove while the other hand was hidden behind her back. A black form fitting skirt went right above her ankles, where you could see sheer dark pantyhose, and black leather heels adorned her feet.

The taller one, on the other hand, had short black spiky hair, pale skin, Hazel eyes, and a spiked leather collar around her neck. She wore a no-sleeve crop top with a sheer cloth that draped down to cover her slim stomach. She had short-shorts on with ripped fishnet leggings and black boots. The taller girl also had a multitude of chains and spike tastefully adorning her body and completing her punk look.

Pamela lightly brushed one of her fingers on the image of the taller girl as she spoke in a quiet sad voice, never once looking up from the image.

"Her name was Samantha." Pamela repeated before looking her daughter straight in the eyes as she continued.

"And because of me, she died a Witch..."

Betrayal - Sam stared at her mother with a confused and surprised look on her face. Not quite understanding what her mother meant by 'died a Witch' or why she looked so miserable and grief stricken.

"Mom... What are you talking about?" Sam asked in a somewhat slow manner, a bewildered frown now present on her face. Her anger and frustration from earlier had been put aside now that she noticed just how much the items in that box had affected her mother.

Pamela didn't say anything for a moment. She just sat on the lounge and clutched the old scrapbook in her hands. Her eyes had fallen back down to the photo of the two happy punk teens, lingering mostly on the taller black hired one. Finally, she sucked in a shaky breath of air and responded to her daughter's question, but she couldn't bring herself to take her eyes off of the scrapbook.

"Her name was Samantha Moore and she was my best friend." Pamela said softly as her voice cracked at the end from a repressed sob. Her already tight hold on the scrapbook becoming a death grip as her fingers whitened from the presser.

Sam was shocked to see her mother in such a state and hurried to her side as a concerned 'Mom!' tumbled out of her mouth. Her concern only grew once she saw the tears flowing from her mother's eyes and the light almost unseen full body shaking as the tears silently ran down Pamela's face. And yet still, Pamela kept her gaze on the scrapbook, not even acknowledging Sam as she approached to lean down to get a better look at her face and touched her shoulder.

"Mom? Mom! What's wrong? Are you ok? Please, answer me! MOM!" Sam called in a panicked tone which gained a desperate edge at the end when Pamela didn't even twitch. Fearing that her mother was catatonic, Sam straighten up and fumbled for her cellphone. Once she had her cellphone in hand, Sam shakily started to dial her father's number and rambled to her mother in an attempt to keep calm.

"you-your going t-to be o-ok Mom, I-I'm just g-going t-to call D-dad and he-ll-l know wha-"

"No..." Pamela whispered in a hoarse voice, as her right hand released it's grip on the scrapbook to weakly put itself over her daughters left hand, which had been holding the cellphone. Sam jumped at the sudden move, before she quickly clutched the offered hand with her right one and began to speak to her mother.

"Mom! are you ok? What happened? Why don't you want me to call Dad?" Sam asked in a rush, fearful that if she missed this chance her mom might stop responding again.

Pamela sucked in a deep shaky breath and tore her red rimed gaze away from the scrapbook as her left hand shut it closed. she stared at her daughter for a moment, before looking away with a sigh. she then slid the scrapbook off her lap and back into the box it had come from before standing up. Pamela slowly walked to the fireplace with Sam in tow, still clutching her mother's hand.

Sam waited for her mother to collect herself and talk. She was still a little scared for her mom, but the sight of the scrapbook being put away eased her panic and gave her hope that it was over. Sam took note of her mother's flushed face, ruined makeup, and red rimed eyes. There was a slight tremor to the hand Sam was holding, but it seemed to be slowly easing away as time past. Just as Sam was starting to feel a little awkward, Pamela began to speak.

"I'm sorry you had to see me like that, Sammy." Pamela said in a raspy voice, eyes looking listlessly towards the fireplace rather then Sam. "I just wasn't expecting you to bring me that box." Pamela finished with a chuckle that sounded more like a wheezy cough.

"It's ok, mom. I'm the one that needs to say sorry." Sam said, feeling guilty for causing her mom such pain. Sam hesitated for a moment before adding "But, why did you react like that?"

Pamela frowned lightly as she softly spoke "I suppose it's time to tell you about your namesake and my side of the family. And Sammy, please, do not interrupt me. I don't know if I'll have the strength to start again.". Seeing her daughter nod her head in agreement, Pamela took a steadying breath and spoke.

"My family, the Callister's, have a history of dealing with the occult. You see, Sammy, we are descended from a long line of irish witch hunters and exorcists. Traditionally, the craft would be taught from father to son, but my father, Emerich, believed that all his children had a right to learn the family craft. From a young age, I and my four older brothers, were taught about all the things that go bump in the night and how to fight them." Pamela began in a somber tone.

Sam's eyes widened in shock as she listened to her mother talk about her maternal family. Sure, Sam wasn't too surprised by the revelation that there were more supernatural creature out there other than ghosts, but what she wasn't expecting was for her family to be the ones that hunted them. Especially since it was her mother's family. Pamela had never told Sam much about her side of the family, but Sam hadn't ever thought that this would be the reason for her mother's silence.

"Now, I am not going to go into to much details about the supernatural community. Other then that they exist, and have been slowly secluding themselves from interacting with humans since the industrial revolution." Pamela paused as she saw her daughter give her a pleading look.

"I know that you're interested in this, Sammy, but we can talk about that later" Pamela promised, before resuming her tale.

"It happened when I was thirteen years old. I was young, reckless, and going through a punk phase with my best friend. I had known Samantha since I was a young girl and considered her a sister. We would always get into the most ridiculous situations and cause my poor eldest brother, Avery, to have to come and rescue us. We even made these silly little code names for when we wanted to be sneaky. I was licorice and she was petal." Pamela reminisced with tears in her eyes. Her throat constricted for a moment in grief and she had to stop again to regain some composer. She tightened her grip on her daughters hand for support.

"Samantha had known what my family did for a living. I shared everything with her, and my parents treated her like one of their own. I just wished she had listened to our warnings on the occult as well as me and my brothers did. I wished that I had never shown her that stupid BOOK!" Pamela nearly shrieked at the end, her voice filed with self hatred, shame, and pain. Startling Sam with it's intensity and causing her to wince in pain from how tightly her mother was holding her hand.

"Mom?.." Sam weakly asked in concern, wanting to comfort her mother, but unsure if she would even accept it. Sam somewhat understood where her mother was coming from, but the differences was plain to see, Danny came back, while Samantha hadn't.

Pamela sucked in a shaky breath as her eyes clenched shut. She exhaled a moment later and her eyes slowly slid open. Sam flinched at how blank and hollow they looked. It horrified Sam that her usually preppy and cheery mother could make a face like this. That her eyes could look that dead.

"I'm sorry, Sammy, it seems I may have gotten a little ahead of myself. Let's start at the beginning." Pamela hollowly uttered, face now an impassive mask.

"At the time, my father had been contracted by the US government to hunt down and slay a particularly nasty coven of witches. They had made a pact with the Slavic forest god Berstuk. In return for the powers bestowed to them by the god, they had to kill anyone that harmed the forest or the creatures that inhabited it, whether they wanted to or not.

The only reason my father had even been able to get this information was because an initiate spell book had been found near an area where a group of game hunters had gone missing. Initiate spell books, Sammy, are how new witches are brought into an already established coven. Those books are already tied to their deity of worship and make the ritual to tie their new recruit very simple to do.

The book was being kept in a safe in our basement and would be burned after the coven was eradicated. My father and older brothers had been gone for two weeks, when I showed Samantha that book. I wasn't suppose to be doing it, but I had wanted to impress her with a real life spell book. Samantha had always been fascinated by the occult. I just wanted to make her happy.

But then, Samantha had wanted to try casting a spell from the book. We had a bit of an argument when I told her no. She didn't speak to me for two whole days, before she apologized and asked if we could have a sleepover at my house. I didn't think much of it, I was just happy that my best friend was talking to me again, so I agreed. The sleepover was uneventful, but I had a lot of fun and Samantha went home the next day.

Four days later, me and my mother got a call from my father. The coven was no more and he would be coming home soon. While my father and brothers where coming home, I was tasked with burning the spell book, but when I went to retrieve it from the safe, it was gone. My mother was horrified when I told her and immediately tried to call my father to ask him what to do.

An hour later, the police was knocking at our door. Two body's had been found near the wood and where identified as Samantha's parents. Samantha was nowhere to be found and they had come to our house to see if she was there. It was then that I knew where the spell book was." Pamela paused as her stoic mask began to crack, silent tears running down her face as full body shivers racked her paling frame.

Sam could only look on in growing horror as a realization slowly began to sink in. She could never understand her mothers pain, because it was nothing like what had happened with Danny. The only thing that she had in common was that both of their best friends had died because of actions done in youthful ignorance. Where Sam had nudged Danny towards his death, Pamela had dissuaded her friend from it. It was Samantha that had used her friendship with her mother to get close and steal the spell book, which ultimately lead her to her death.

'A death that was probably caused by my grandfather or uncles...' Sam thought with a growing dread. Her right hand has gone numb with how hard her mother was squeezing it.

"Oh, Sammy..." Pamela softly breathed out in a rough sad voice, "There is something you must understand about witches. When a witch makes a pact with an entity for power, they are giving more then their worship and service. They are giving their very souls and not all entity's are kind enough to give them back or allow their vassal's freewill. Berstuk allowed Samantha neither of those mercies, and since my family had just decimated his followers, he needed my friend to make a new coven for him." Pamela paused to take in a shaky breath as a numb feeling began to overtake her.

"As soon as Samantha had agreed to the pact, her fate had been seal."

"It was grandfather Emerich and my uncles that stopped her, right?" Sam quietly asked, unable to say 'killed' and hoping to end this conversation for her mother's sake. Only to be confused when her mother shook her head. Her confusion quickly became horror as Pamela spoke is a dead voice.

"I was the only one that could do it. My father and brothers wouldn't be home for another few days. And my mother was not trained to fight the supernatural like the rest of the family. I was the only one that had the ability to stop a novice witch. I couldn't allow that evil monster to control my friend, just the thought filled me with such fury.

So I took the family Scian and tracked Samantha down through the east woods of town. When I found her, her body was still changing to show Berstuk's ownership of her soul. Her hair had become long and shaggy with moss just starting to take root in it. Her eyes were that of a wolfs and she was just starting to grow a tail, fangs, horns, and claws. Even her voice was changing, bouncing back and forth between a bellowing elk or a hissing snake." Pamela paused to turn and look her daughter in the eyes, taking in their horror with her dead ones.

"It made what I had to do easier. I was killing a monster, not my best friend. As more and more of Samantha's human appearance was stripped away in our fight, the less I hesitated. It ended when I was able to get close enough to sink my dagger into her heart." Pamela finally finished in a monotone voice, and no more treas to shed.

Sam stared at her mother with horror and shock. She could not comprehend how Pamela had the strength to do what she did. Just the thought of doing the same to Danny made her want to throw up. Sam realized she knew so little about her mother and her family, but now she was hesitant to ask to know more. She didn't want to-

"Sammy, Please pay attention, I haven't told you about the rest of our family yet." Pamela suddenly said, knocking Sam out of her horrified stupor to look at her mother with a confused disbelief in her eyes.

"What?!?"

Order - The second task: the retrieval of the reality gems and returning them to their proper place within the Infinite Realms.

Box - "Is there any other secrets about our family that you, grandma, and dad haven't told me?" Sam questioned as she gave her mother a searching gaze.

Pamela looked at her daughter with a fragile smile, the sadness from their previous conversions still lingering, but seemed to be slowly draining away as Pamela pondered on the question. She leisurely strode her way back to the lounge and took a seat on the right most side. Pamela patted the open seat next to her with her left hand as a silent invitation, which Sam accepted as she moved to sit with her mother. With her right hand, Pamela delicately lifted a cup of tea, that had long since cooled, off the console table and took a deep sip before answering.

"The only thing that comes to mind is how I actually met your father and why we chose to live in Amity Park." Pamela said, voice still soft, but growing in strength.

"Wait! -So, that gushy story you and dad told me-" Sam began

"Was not the real story, dear." Pamela finished with an abashed smile that didn't quite reach her eyes, before she quickly continued when she noticed her daughters disgruntled expression and opening mouth. "We where going to tell you the truth when you where older-"

"what! When I'm old enough to live on my own!" Sam cut in with a slight harsh edge to her voice. Sam had a frustrated look on her face for a moment, before she took an deep breath and let out a sigh, her eyes closing as she forced herself to calm down. When she opened them to look at her mom and saw the guilty and hesitant look on her face, Sam had to look away as she spoke again to her mother.

"I -Sorry. Just -" a sigh, "Just tell me how you and dad met." Sam finally got out.

Sam hadn't meant to snap at her mom like that, but after all of today's revelations about her family, she is starting to reach her breaking point. It also kind of stung, Sam felt like she never really knew her own mother. When she had first found that dusty old box in the attic and looked at the scrapbook it contained, all Sam had felt was an indigent rage at her mother's hypocrisy. But after learning about Samantha and her maternal family, Sam doesn't know what to feel other than tired and sad for her mom's loss.

"It's ok, Sammy, I know that what we are talking about is a lot to take in." Pamela said, as she sent a sad understanding smile to her daughter. Sam didn't respond much beyond leveling her mother with an expecting gaze and a slight nod of her head. Needing no further prompt, Pamela began her story.

"I met your father when I was nineteen. My father had been called by Ganit Manson, your grandfather, about strange things that had been happening to his family for the past few months. They had tried moving to some of their other estates across the country, but the entity that was causing it was following them from house to house, getting more and more bold as time past. By the time Ganit had called, your father's arm was broken, he had multiple bruises and scratches, as well as having so many nightmares he was suffering from sleep deprivation." Pamela paused for a moment to take another sip of her tea to help settle her nerves.

"It was a dybbuk"

Silence rained between the two Manson's following that sentence. Sam stared at her mother for a moment, before the words truly register and her eyes widened in shock.

"How...?" Sam breath out, wide eyes still looking at her mother as a pit began to form in her stomach.

"Your grandfather had bought a dybbuk box at a privet deceased estate auction he was invited to by a family friend. He thought it was just a wine cabinet, and when he had opened it, there hadn't been anything glaringly obvious to point out it's true purpose. My family hadn't discovered this important fact for another month and a half." Pamela paused to take a deep breath and collect herself. The next part of this tale was always hard to talk about.

"The dybbuk... was targeting your father. It wanted to possess him and make him do... terrible thing, before it killed him. We had grown closer as the investigation had gone on and I hated what that thing was doing to him!" Pamela hissed, as her hands tightened into fists startling Sam out of her stupor from the intensity of her mother's ire.

Hesitantly, Sam put her hand on her mothers clenched left fist and leaned into her shoulder to try and offer her mother some emotional support. Pamela's fist quickly lost it's tension and instead turned to hold Sam's offered hand in a gentile, but firm grip. Sam felt her mother lean towards her as she relaxed. Mother and daughter stayed like that for a few moments, before Pamela straightened up and turned to look at Sam with a loving and appreciative smile.

"Thank you, Sammy." Pamela said in a loving tone, eye's filled with gratitude. Pamela breathed in deeply to steady herself before she continued with her tale.

"Now, where was I...Oh, yes! By the time we had found out it was a dybbuk, your father was already under it's power and needed to have it exorcised. It took three weeks of constant prayers and exorcisms before Jeremy was free of that monster. By the end of the investigation almost everyone closely involved had been injured by the dybbuk, but it was the Manson's that needed to be hospitalized.

Your grandfather had internal bleeding as well as a lot of fractured bones, specifically around his chest. Your grandmother had a bookcase dropped on her from behind, which had caused a spinal injure. But poor Jeremy had to be in a full body cast from the way that thing had twisted and contorted his body. I did my best to visit him as much as I could until he regained consciousness. And, oh!~ did he say the most romantic thing when he woke up.

He had said 'Oh, Pamela! it was only the thought of being with you that gave me the strength to keep fighting.'. And it was in that instant, I knew, he was the one I wanted to spend the rest of my life with." Pamela finished with a happy sigh, eyes aglow with nostalgia as her cheeks dusted a light pink.

A small smile appear on Sam's face at the sight, happy that her mother was somewhat back to her preppy self after seeing her truly miserable for the last few hours. Sure, Sam is probably going to need a lot of time to absorb everything her mom had told her, but that can be dealt with later. Although, privately, Sam thinks her dad was really cheesy when he said that, Romantic, but cheesy.

Wait, Sam thought, Am I forgetting something?

"What was so special about moving to Amity Park?"

Banshee - A very particular ghost tells Danny what his final task is. (Clockwork had been the one to tell Danny what the last three tasks were, how strange...)

Freeze - Danny, Sam, and Tucker goes to the Far Frozen to ask for Frostbite's help in preparing Danny for his coronation.

Purify - In the aftermath of the battle for the thrown, the Fenton's rush to the Far Frozen before it's too late.

Night Terrors - Tucker has been woken up by his mother's screams and rushes to his parents bedrooms.

Shallow Graves - Jack and Maddie are staring at their ghost portal in the aftermath of Danny telling them the truth. They start to question if their ambitions are worth the shallow grave it had left in its wake.

Harvest - The night of the ritual has now arrived. Sam and Pamela are running out of time...

Thirst - Danny learns an unbelievable truth about the cola that went into the creation of Plasmius.

Way of Life - Pamela tells Sam that Amity Park is a place people go to retire from the supernatural world.

Restored - Danny restores Pariah's Keep in preparation for his coronation.

Haunted House - Danny is instructed to find his lair. His lair has something living in it...

Will O' Wisp - Using a tracking spell in the form of a turquoise flame, Tucker follows it through Nicolet National forest WI, praying that he gets to his parents in time.

Grimoire - A witch and her love making the final preparations on a mysterious ritual within her old and mossy spell book.

Hope - Jazz and Danny have a heart to heart about the recent drama that October has brought. This leads Danny to decide to tell his parents the truth with Jazz supporting him.

Eyes - Danny and Clockwork visit the Observants to sign a few legal documents.

One - A lone Observant betrays his oath and feeds information to Plasmius in the hopes that Phantom won't become king.

Fight - Vlad begins his plan to seize the thrown by attacking the Fenton family during the last task.

Coronation - Danny is crowned High King of All Ghosts on the blue moon of All Hallows Eve.

Myosotis - As Sam's maternal family wins the fight for their lives and the spirits of the coven's former members start to fade, Pamela is approached by a familiar face...

Grudge - Vlad finally vents his anger and rage at Jack after his secret is revealed, before throwing him into the Great Depths.

Past - Tucker is forced to unlock the memory's of his past life as Pharaoh Duul'Aman in an effort to use the knowledge of that life to accelerate his magical prowess as the threat of the blue moon draws ever closer.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Future's Chaos Prompts

Potions - Using his magic and Fenton tech Tucker is able to subdue his parents long enough to administer the moonshift cure to them, hoping and praying he hadn't been to late.

Trust - Danny tells his parents his secret.

Chaos - The battle for the ghostly thrown has begun. But wait! an unexpected challenger approaches the battling half-ghosts?

Staff - Danny's first of four tasks he must complete before becoming High King. He must return the Scarab Scepter to Pharaoh Narmer of Sḫt-Jꜣrw. Sam and Tucker help him while Jazz covers for them.

Wraith - The last task Danny must complete is the destruction of a large group of wraiths that had gathered near the Great Depths. Danny's family helps him with this task. (Tucker is dealing with his parents curse and Sam is visiting relatives and is suppose to be back by Wednesday evening.)

Burn - Vlad's thoughts on the look Maddie sent him just before she made her escape with her catatonic son and devastated daughter.

Infect -Tucker learns how his parents were infected with lycanthropy.

Sleep Paralysis - Sam and Pamela's sleep is interrupted halfway through the night with sleep paralysis. In the morning, both Manson's decide to leave the hotel to spend their last few hours in North Carolina with their family. The two only realize something sinister is afoot when they find the large homestead ransacked and empty.

Deep Tombs - The third task: Danny must retrieve the royal regalia from the Tomb of Fathomless Horrors without any aide from his allies.

Hunger - A familiar face appears in Amity Park.

Drown - All she can hazily remember was how hard it had been to breath. It was like she was underwater, because no matter how much she coughed and inhaled, no air could reach her. And then the torture. just. stopped.

But where was she?

Cause of Death - As Jack flouts down(?) within the Great Depths, with a 'Fenton Jack-O-Lantern' as his only barrier between him and certain death, a being comes to him with a deal he can't refuse.

Abandoned - The prologue of the story where a large portion of Casper High is destroyed by a ghost attack, thus causing the school to be closed down until repairs are finished. To mitigate the loss of education to the students, the parents are given the option to either send their children to the high school in Elmerton or sign them up for the hastily put together online courses provided by Amity Park's board of education.

Danny was able to convince his parents to let him try home schooling to see if it would help him keep his grades up. Sam's parents wouldn't allow their daughter anywhere near Elmerton. It took Tucker a few days to convince his parents to allow him to be home schooled.

Costume Party - Danny enlists Queen Dora's help in setting up the annual Royal Costume Ball. (The counterpart to the Christmas truce. It is only sponsored by the High King, while the truce is done by the people.)

Jack O' Lanterns - Jack reveals his newest ghost hunting invention to his children. (A.K.A. little portable personal ghost shields shaped like pumpkins (with Jacks face or the Fenton logo as the 'carving'.). They fit in your pocket and are surprisingly long lasting. Only downside is that the batteries are difficult to make and charge, so there are still a few kinks he needs to work out.)

Sacred Text - Tucker pours through the books of magic kept in the Archives of Thoth in the hopes that there was a cure for his parents affliction.

Despair - Danny's thoughts about what happened at the Great Depth's and being unable to save them.

Teeth - Tucker noticed that his parents have fangs during what should be a typical Friday night dinner. The normalcy is unknowingly shattered by a terrible revelation once he comments on it in passing.

One Hundred - Sam and her family must fight a coven 100 strong to survive.

Flight - Tucker bursts through his front door calling to his parents in restless excitement that he had found a cure. But he is met with silence and a horrible realization as he finds an envelope addressed to him from his parents.

Coup - Vlad gathers allies to usurp Danny's thrown before he even takes it.

Foxfire - Sam and her mother descend into a mine that is lit by foxfire growing on the old wooden support beams lining the wall. Both are armed to the teeth and hope that they are not to late.

Absolve - Pamela has a sit down with Sam near the end of their reunion with her side of the family to both apologies and show her support to who her daughter wants to be.

Future - In the aftermath of the tragedy at the Great Depths, the remaining Fentons find Shelter in the Far Frozen.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ectober Week Prompts

Forest - While exploring the woods around her grandparents town, Sam hears whispers that lead her to an old mine shaft...

Six Feet - Sam meets her maternal family for the first time and is overwhelmed by their introduction.

Soul Shredder - Danny learns the history of the soul shredder while talking to Frostbite about what he will need to address as king.

Trickster(Cursed) Knight, Shade Knight, Mage Knight, Tempest Knight

Scream - The sight of his parent's screaming and writhing forms as their body's twisted and contorted into a more wolf like shape momentarily froze Tucker in abject horror.

Lobotomy - A few days after being told the truth, Jack has a heart to heart with his son.

Shiver - The events that occurred in the lead up to the blue moon of Halloween still makes a shiver run down the trio's collective spines.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Halloween

Folk Tales - Pamela tells Sam about her maternal family, their profession, and family history.

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howireallyfeels · 4 months ago

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Lost in the Shadows of Joy

Today is October 6, the birthday of my oldest sister, and I feel absolutely nothing. No joy, no sadness, no sense of celebration, just an emptiness that I can’t shake. I don’t even have the energy to get out of bed. Instead, I’m lying here, rewatching Harry Potter movies, trying to relive a time when I felt something, when I felt alive. Back then, when I watched these films, I was happy. They made me feel so excited about life, full of wonder and possibility. But now, there’s nothing left inside me. It’s like everything I used to feel has faded away, leaving behind this hollow shell of who I used to be.

Yesterday, at the wedding, my friend and I arrived late. He’s a good friend of mine, my Kuya, despite being a bit of a bully. But he’s the kind of bully that does it out of love, and I know he cares about me. He had a part in the wedding, so he sat up front, while I ended up alone, sitting at the back in a row where no one else was. I didn’t wear the wedding motif or theme color. It was my choice, but it made me feel even more like an outsider. I stood out, not because I wanted to, but because I didn’t belong.

I chose to wear white instead of green, even though I knew green was the color for the occasion. When people asked why, I just made a joke to cover up how out of place I felt. I told them that I was too dark-skinned for green that wearing it made me look like a tree. And yellow? I said it made me look like a traffic enforcer. They laughed, but inside, it only deepened that sense of not fitting in. It was like I was using humor to hide how disconnected I truly felt from everything around me.

At one point, one of my other Ate’s, a dear friend, saw me and asked me to sit with her family, trying to make me feel included. But before that, the wedding photographer took a picture of me, sitting alone. It was such a small moment, but it hit me harder than I expected. Sitting there, by myself, felt like the perfect representation of how I’ve been feeling for so long isolated, even in a crowd.

That wedding was the first time I set foot inside a church in months. Earlier this year, I stopped believing in anything. I stopped praying, stopped asking for help from God, from people. It all felt meaningless, like my prayers were falling on deaf ears. I tried to block out any mention of prayer or faith, filling my head with noise so I wouldn’t have to listen. But there I was, back in a church, surrounded by everything I had turned away from. And there was this strange moment when I found myself once again in His house, whether I wanted to be or not.

After the ceremony, I reconnected with an old friend, a priest and we ended up spending over two hours talking at the convent. We talked about life, about growing older, but when it came to discussing my future, I had nothing to say. I could only talk about the past because the future feels like a blank, like something I can’t even imagine anymore. Those conversations brought back good memories, but they also resurfaced painful ones, memories that never really left me. They linger at the back of my mind, haunting me, no matter how much I try to push them away.

And now, today, I woke up and it felt like just another day. But when I smelled the food being cooked downstairs, I remembered it’s my oldest sister’s birthday. The one I used to idolize so much. She’s the reason why the whole family is here today, gathered for lunch. It’s 12pm, and I’m still in my room, watching Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, trying to escape into the past. My oldest niece came upstairs to invite me to join them for lunch, but I ignored her. I just couldn’t bring myself to get up, to be a part of whatever celebration was happening downstairs.

Then my sister, the one celebrating her birthday knocked on my door, asking me to join them. I told her “okay,” but I didn’t move. After a while, my other sister came up too, sitting on my bed, teasing me, asking if I was going to join them. She tried to get me to come down, to eat with them, but I just told her I was full and that I’d come down later. The truth is, I don’t want to be there. I don’t want to pretend to feel something that I don’t.

Yesterday and today have been a whirlwind of emotions, bringing back memories I both love and hate. They’ve dragged up feelings I’ve tried so hard to bury memories of family, of friends, of happiness, and of pain. These two days have made me so incredibly sad, so full of hurt, that I don’t know what to do with it. I feel like I’m questioning everything I thought I knew, everything I once loved.

It’s like I’m standing at a crossroads, but I don’t know which direction to take. Yesterday reminded me of all the things I miss, the warmth of being included, the comfort of faith. But today reminds me of the emptiness, the disconnect, the feeling that no matter how many people are around me, I’m still utterly alone.

And so here I am, lying in bed, unable to move, watching a movie that once made me feel so alive but now just feels like a reminder of the person I used to be. The person I’m not sure I can ever be again.

#life update #story of my life #struggle

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dyandyan0 · 4 months ago

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one month check-in 10.01.2024

its been one month since i move out here to oc and things have been going pretty OK.

when i last updated things were going very well, and they still are for the most part, but i think things have calmed down a bit and some of the excitement is wearing off and life is hitting me again. i just finished one of my first bigger papers of grad school (13 pages... yayy...) and honestly i procrastinated up until the very last second and turned it in with an hour to spare when i had about 3 weeks to do it. i also saw mitski on saturday, got a lot more drunk than i expected off of just 2 tall boys, and woke up the next day like yeah... i think that's the last time i'm going to drink for awhile

i drank a LOT this past month and i realized that my hangxiety has been getting worse, maybe because even though i've been having fun lately, i have been building up a lot of stress and and use drinking to kind of mellow out and get all social. however, by the time i sober up the next day, i'm straight up having heart palpitations and overthinking my entire life up to that point. ofc this doesn't happen every time i drink but it has happened enough this month where i'm like ok october i'm going sober (with the exception of like one party that i already agreed to)

anyways yeah so i saw mitski on saturday and honestly. i think i agree with those tiktoks that are like she doesn't hit once you find happiness and balance in your life. which is interesting because when i first started listening to mitski in 2020 i was in a super great place, i still just very much appreciate her music and her artistry but the peak of me listening to her and actually being super moved by her music was back when i was going through a break up which was... almost 3 years ago now. my mindset has changed a lot and i don't want to just listen to sad music when i'm feeling alright because it's reasonably a downer. she was also amazing live, but i couldn't help but feel like that was the most boring audience i have ever witnessed. literally a stadium with thousands of people and they were entirely still for what seemed like the whole set. obviously i don't expect someone to open up the pit at a mitski concert but even her upbeat most popular songs i barely saw anyone really even bobbing their heads. i hope i'm not being like tone deaf or something? i just feel like because of tiktok nobody wants to be "that guy" at concerts and get blasted for just trying to have a good time. i need to go to an emo concert again soon and rage.

on the way home from the concert i was drunk ranting to my friend bernard about random things. i told him i only cried twice this year (which compared to last year... i was crying like every other day because i was on hormonal meds). one time because my cousins death anniversary passed by and i was mourning him (which, reasonable. i don't want to get into), and another... over a guy

i didn't think i was gonna talk about this on here because i was like i don't know how public i'm gonna make this blog but i don't really think anybody's gonna actually read it and the chances of him finding and reading it are very slim so fuck it who cares. but i cried once around may over a guy who i had been (seeing, loosely) on and off for like almost two years. he was visiting home from new york and we went to huntington together and it was really nice. i've always enjoyed his company and thought he was a great, reasonable dude. we had a weird relationship but i personally never felt like he did anything to lead me in a certain way or purposefully make me feel bad. but he moved around may of 2023 to new york so i only really got to see him when he was visiting home, which was every few months or so. i had been pretty casual about him up until the last few times he visited, where i was like uh oh... actual feelings are starting to come up for me. i have too much pride to actually admit these kinds of things to people now, especially when i knew that there wasn't really a chance at that point that our dynamic would change, and i didn't even think i wanted it to. so i was stuck there being confused about my own feelings and what i wanted, and then he visited, and when i left his house i started to bawl my eyes out. it was just sad to think that we were gonna have to go back to being strangers again. i texted him a few days later pretty much ending things, and he agreed, and that was that. we still follow each other on social media, and when i saw that he was visiting home again this month, i was pretty broken up about it knowing i wouldn't get to catch up with him again. (even though i was the one who asked not to see each other again.... bruh)

i don't know if i learned any lessons from whatever we had was. i was sad over it, but it wasn't something that consumed my life in the way ex-boyfriends have. i think i'm becoming a bit to avoidant when it comes to dating and stuff for my own good, maybe i'm a little scared to make a connection like that again.

that has been on my mind a lot these past few weeks. that and my assignment that i kept putting off. i think i just want to actually lock in now and maybe fix my fucked up sleeping schedule. this next week is supposed to get hot again and i'm not looking forwards to that :(

#diary post #Spotify

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sundaycane · 9 months ago

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Let me talk about my experience being cheated by someone.

This is my love-life story, but also my first trauma in my 20s.

In may 2022, i met this guy, I called him john (not real name). John was so handsome, playful, and have a good sense of humor. We met in the workplace when i was his junior assistant. I never thought he would be a cheater because he has a good attitude, loves his family, and acts like a good leader. Really love-blind because he acts to me. John was so cared about me, and i never felt being cared back then. In june, john asked me to go on a date but the place is near our workplace, so after work, we went to a small cafe and dating. We talk about each other, about past love, about school, hobbies and plan for next journey. I remember he talked that he was a leader at the school and how he became now as a consultant in civil engineering. I was amazed at him because he really looked like a hard-working man, how he managed his life back before being a consultant. Then, out of sudden he asked me to be his girlfriend. I was shocked because we only knew each other for just 1 month. Again, love is blind i said yes to him. And that time was a happy moment for me. July, August, and September were passed. We just like an ordinary couple, went to a date, went to a workplace together. After work, we went to dinner. It was the nicest thing I ever had. In October. I found that John was cheating on me. I saw his phone, texting my friend (her nickname is Karen). I have known Karen since in high school, and we were close friends. John lied to me, and he said that he only talked about a job, nothing more than that. I was disbelieve and we fought. I did not call him for one week, and at that time, I had another project in Yogyakarta. Turns out he did not even call me or think about me. My coworker sent me a photo of John and Karen together. I was so pissed and sad. Why did he cheat me? I even sacrificed my dreams just because John did not let me pursue my plans. After that, we did not talk to each other.

2022 passed. In early 2023, John called me and asked me to go to a cafe. He wants forgiveness from me. I rejected it. But, he convinced me so hard and threatened me that he would come to my place. I intentionally said I did not care. Then, Karen called me. She said that she didn't know John had a relationship with me. But, she asked me for forgetting about how he cheated. She literally said that out loud. It was my fault, making John cheat to another woman. I got goosebumps because everyone in my workplace knew it. I was stunned to speak, zoning out and feeling nothing life. Everyone eyes on me starred like I was a problem. I try to defend myself, but Karen brings her friends to my room. After that happened, I went to some place. That place was so dark and no one visited. I was thinking of suicide. My life is broken because John. I was believing him more than myself. Turns out he was a wrecker. Makes me feel alone. I still remember how I was hurt. I barely can't breathe. I was on the top of the building, trying to jump. But out of sudden my phone rings. It was from my colleague at university. I took the phone and burst tears. My colleague was shocked and asked me what's wrong with me. Then, I tell the whole story about being cheated and accused as the main problem for my ex.

My colleague comforted me and convinced me not to jump off the building. I followed her instructions and went to her place. I started crying out loud and blaming myself. My colleague just heard me passionately.

Really, I am so grateful that time she called me. Now, I am single, have a happy life, also me and my colleague became closer. Sometimes, I have a nightmare, and that event still haunts me. But I tried to overcome my trauma with productivity.

Does it still haunt me? Yes. Yet, I will overcome it as soon as possible.

And how about John and Karen? They're living in a good life. Meanwhile, I struggle here and out.

That's okay. I believe in karma. As soon as possible, they will taste it.

End.

#life #real life #life letters #cheated on #i feel cheated #lovers #love #thoughts #my post #my writing #writing

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herestohoping14-blog-blog · 2 years ago

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With My Life

October 2022

I heard my phone go off, an alert for a message coming through on my social media. I ignored it, I hardly ever used it and figured it was just another scam email. The only reason I still even has it was for family to send things or to see what was happening in their lives. If I lived closer to them, I wouldn’t even have it. Being 1300 miles away made it hard to keep up with anyone, especially when I didn’t have their cell phone numbers anymore to text or call them and catch up. There was always too much drama, scam posts, political opinions and sad posts of animals needing good homes. For every post from a family member, there were 15 more from people that I would roll my eyes at and scroll past.

I silenced my phone and kept plugging away at my current client’s request. This particular one had been the bane of my existence for the past few months and I was ready to be done with it. Arguments with the attorney’s office, complete silence from the title company, at least 5 emails a day from the client who couldn’t seem to understand the hold up. He was constantly asking for updates on the progress and couldn’t seem to grasp that until he got us what we needed from him, then we were stalled on making any headway. I was ready to pull my hair out by the end of every day and my constant headache got worse with every email he sent. Deciding to take a quick break, I grabbed my vape and headed out the back dor. The sun beat down on me and I took a deep breath, relaxing my shoulders and unclenching my jaw.

I had always been a naturally nervous person, preferring to either hide away or blend in if I couldn’t find a way to make myself invisible. Thankfully for my sanity, when I started this job I found the perfect little nook for when I needed to step away. There was enough cover to keep the elements away when it was nasty outside but still be able to enjoy the few sunny and warm days we had left of fall. I could still keep an eye out on the area around me but wasn’t easily seen. If you wanted to see me, you really had to look. I took a few more deep breaths and soaked up a few more rays of sunshine. A few hits on my vape and a mental pat on the back, I decided to get back in and finish what I could.

What I thought would be a quick and easy phone call and just a couple short emails turned into an all-day project. I worked straight through lunch to tie up any loose ends and sent an email to the client to let him know what the last couple of items I needed from him to get the loan sent off the next day. I knew that it was highly unlikely that I would be able to send everything off but I still held out a little hope. Time seemed to fly by, and the next thing I knew, it was the end of the day and everyone had already left. The cleaning crew were already hard at work trying to get everything ready for the next day and the lights were shut off in all of the main areas. I quickly cleaned up my desk and locked all of my files away for the night, packed up my work bag and headed outside to wait for my ride.

Six years and counting of seizures had left me with a paid off car I couldn’t drive and relying on other people for rides wherever I had to go, my mom being the main person to get us back and forth anywhere we had to go. I still lived at home with her and my step dad. It made the commute back and forth to our jobs easier and a great way to save money instead of having to rent an expensive apartment within walking distance to my job. It didn’t bother me quite as much as it used to in the beginning, we at least had reliable transportation and we both worked the same hours so it was a win-win for both of us. The only times it bothered me were nights I had to stay later than normal or when the weather turned nasty. Tonight happened to be one of those nights for both.

There was no car in sight and the wind had picked up, bringing a sprinkling of rain along with it. I had completely forgotten they were calling for a storm that evening and, in hindsight, I should have just stayed in the building and waited for her. Too late now. The best thing I could do was move to under the drive thru awning and hope that she got here before it got too bad outside. I pulled out my phone and saw the messenger notification still sitting on my home screen. I cleared it off and sent her a quick text, letting her know where I was waiting at. She sent a message back fairly quick, saying that she had just gotten out of work and would be there as soon as she could so I closed the app down on my phone and waited.

I stood there for a couple of minutes before remembering the message again. Opening the app, I saw the message was from someone named “Ken” with a profile picture of a tv show character. Immediately, I thought ‘Hmm….I wonder what kind of scam this could be’. I had been in banking for 12 years at that point and had seen just about everything in the book. From the fake paychecks for using a bumper sticker, to a relative in jail needing bail money and everything in between. I had my profile set to private and usually the only people that could get a direct message to me either had to already be friends or we had mutual friends in common. Curiosity got the better of me and I went ahead and opened the message. It at least had to be good for a laugh or two. When I read it, all the person had put was just a simple short message.

Ken: Hey, been a long time. How have you been?

I wondered who it could be. The name didn’t ring a bell. I tried to pull up their profile to get an idea of whether I actually knew this person or not, but there wasn’t much to see. It looked like a new profile, just a couple of pictures from other tv shows and it looked like they lived in the same area as me. Maybe it was one of my customers from one of my old jobs? I had worked at a couple of banks before the one I was currently at and had built fairly close relationships with a lot of them. Some of them, I still kept in contact with to this day! It felt good to know that, even though I no longer saw them on a daily basis, I could still remain close with some of them and make sure they were still doing okay.

I went back to the message and tried to wrack my brain. Who could this be? I didn’t know anyone by that name and with no picture to go off of, I didn’t have much to guess by. They had to know me if they were able to find me on here. I wracked my brain but I kept coming up empty on guesses for this person. I debated on just deleting the message and blocking the person but my guilt complex decided to make itself known. What if it WAS someone I knew and was just not remembering them? I pondered for a minute on what to do before deciding to put on my customer service hat and type out a polite reply.

Me: It’s great to hear from you, it has been a while! I’ve been doing well, thank you for asking. I just started a new job and am excited to see what comes of it! How have you been? Has everyone been doing well?

I read it over a few times before I hit “send”, deeming it polite and appropriate and would hopefully be enough to give me a little more information on who messaged me. Maybe It would be enough that I would remember them quickly. Besides, worst case scenario and it was a scam or a hacker, I could just delete my profile and start a new one. I read it over again and sent it off, shoving my phone back into my purse and look around for my ride. I heard it go off again but before I could see what they sent back, my chariot arrived to whisk me away from work and back home. It couldn’t have gotten here soon enough! As soon as I got in the car and we pulled out of the parking lot, the heavens opened up.

A torrential downpour quickly made it almost impossible to see and the streets started to flood, unable to keep up with the storm. Neither of us spoke as we drove through downtown, trying to focus on not getting hit or washed away. Once we finally got out of the city, it seemed to start letting up a little and we both released a breath. My mom removed one of her hands from the steering wheel and tried to shake and stretch it out before placing it back where it was. The white knuckle grip she had for the past 10 minutes had really done a number on her already hurting hands. I knew she had to be in pain, it was near the deadline for her monthly reports and she always came home with stiff fingers and shooting pains from keying in so much information.

“I really hate driving in this!” she said as she adjusted the defrost to try and help clear the windshield a little more. I looked over at her and she was squinting, trying to see out and I let out a small chuckle, asking her “Did you maybe try putting your glasses on and see if that would help?”. She looked over at me and smiled, pulling her other hand off of the steering wheel and repeating the process, “My cheaters aren’t going to help with this smart ass.” I tried to joke with her and cheer her up a little, “Look on the bright side then! You have a great copilot with a deafening set of lungs and an extra set of eyes! Between the both of us, we can do this! You’ll have to work the pedals and the wheel but I can at least help keep a lookout!”

She smiled and shook her head, looking a little sad for a minute before reaching over and taking my hand in hers. “One day Mija, one day you’ll get there. And when you do, you can be the chauffer and take me wherever I want to go for a change.” I squeezed her hand and gave her a slight smile. The rain had let up quite a bit the closer we got to home and she didn’t have a white knuckle grip of the wheel anymore so I took the opportunity to gaze out at the passing scenery and let my mind wander.

There wasn’t much to see, it was already fairly dark outside. We lived in a small town outside of where our work was, about half an hour away. Some of my friends thought it was so far away but it worked for us. Our little town of 1100 people was quiet and calm most of the year except for services on Sundays and the town festival every fall. It was perfect for us, and gave us a chance to wind down after being in the bustling traffic and the city life. Though some people would consider our city small, to me and mom, it felt huge. Going from a town of 1100 people to a city of over 70,000 felt like a huge change to us. Sure, there were bigger cities around Decatur but we never really went there and were already fine with dealing with the area we had to be in.

It had a fairly good university, one of the top corn and soybean processing factories in the country and plenty of shops and restaurants. We may have considered it big, but it was still considered a “small town”. Our drive in and home sometimes made us wish we lived closer but the smell reminded us why we didn’t. Depending on the time of day and which way the wind blew, the stench varied between corn syrup and dog food. When it rained, it was even worse and seemed to linger even longer than normal.

The drive was long, but it was worth it. It gave us plenty of time to vent and talk about our days before we got home. We had always tried to leave work at the door. Don’t let it bleed into our home lives and worry about it later. Nine times out of ten, we never had any problems with doing just that. Sometimes my work life and home life would collide but it was few and far between, especially with my current job. No more late night phone calls or trying to help someone over the phone. No late trips in the middle of the night to try to fix whatever was wrong at the branches or alarms that were tripped. It was a fresh new start and one that I was ready for at that point in my life.

By the time we pulled in the drive at home, you would never even know it was storming not far away. Halfway home, we had very light rain but at home? It was dry as a bone and you could see the stars peeking out through breaks in the clouds. Central Illinois weather at its finest, if you don’t like it just wait 5 minutes or drive down the road. It might be a completely different story there.

We walked in the door and each headed off to our own rooms. I dropped my bag off at the foot of the bed and started to strip my work clothes off. I grabbed my comfiest hoodie and sweatpants, taking advantage of my step dad working late and not bothering to keep on my bra or underwear. After a quick dinner and cleaning up the kitchen, we turned on some home improvement shows for background noise and decided to do our own thing. Mom loved to wind down at night by coloring on her tablet and I had downloaded a few e-books at work for the evening. I grabbed my tablet and tried to turn it on but all I got was a black screen. The battery was dead and the charger was nowhere to be found.

I let out a frustrated breath and went on the hunt. I was famous in my family for easily misplacing or losing things so it was no surprise that I couldn’t find something when I needed it. I could now add “charger” to that list. I went to my cubby hole in my room that I designated for charging cable and plug ins…only to find it empty as well. Where could it be? Rational thought went straight out the window and I immediately went to tear through my other hiding spots, leaving a trail of destruction in my wake. Halfway through making my room look like a tornado had ripped through it, it dawned on me. “Dumb ass,” I scolded myself’ “It’s in your purse! You took it with you to work instead of your phone charger.”

I cursed myself some more and dug the charger out of my purse. Realizing I still couldn’t read or listen to my audiobooks until it had a charge on it, I reached down and took my phone and earbuds with me back to the living room. I could at least use those until I had some juice on the tablet. Huffing out a breath at the state of my room, I decided that I would take care of it later and strolled out to the living room. Putting my tablet on the charger, I went to the kitchen to fix a cup of my favorite chamomile and mint tea. “Hey T,” my mom said, looking over her glasses at me from the couch, “have you taken your meds yet?”

Oops….I hadn’t even thought about them. “No but I’ll go ahead and take them now” I told her. Going over to our overflowing shelf of medications and storage boxes, I went ahead and grabbed mine from their designated day in the case and set them down to finish steeping my tea. Once it was ready, I blew on it to cool it off a little and tossed my pills back with a sip. “Oh good!”, mom piped up again, “You can grab mine for me too while you’re in there!” I looked over at her with a smile and decided to try to make her laugh. “Oh of course madam! Would thoust care for a frosty beverage from the ice box to aid you?” I asked with a fake posh accent and a deep curtsy. She rolled her eyes at me and laughed, “Just get them for me would you?? Goofy girl!” Mission successful. A smile and a laugh were exactly what I wanted to cause.

I reached over to her section and grabbed hers out of her pill box. Having two people in the house and an epileptic made for a lot of medications. Depending on the days we needed refills or were fully stocked, we looked like we could open up our own pharmacy in a heartbeat. Once I gave her the night set that she needed, I walked over to my side of the couch and flopped down. “T? Are you feeling okay? She asked from her end of the sectional, “You seem a little frantic.” I gave her a smile, “Yeah, I’m just tired. It was a long and frustrating day. I still can’t get the loan finished that I need to and it’s like pulling teeth to get anyone to cooperate! I’ve gotten better answers from school children than I have from them! I am just ready to relax and be a couch potato for the night” She held her tablet up at me and showed me the picture she was working on. “That’s my exact plan for the rest of the night!”

We got comfortable in our spots and went about our own projects. I popped an earbud in and opened my audiobook app on my phone, selecting the shorter romance novel that I had gotten earlier in the morning and hit play. While the prologue was going, I remembered that I had received a message from “Ken”. I switched over to my messenger app and immediately felt terrible. 4 unread messages! I probably should have checked this sooner…especially if this was one of my older clients. I opened them and started reading.

Ken: “Yeah, it really has. I think the last time we talked, I was still living in Shelbyville!”

That made me pause….Who did I know in Shelbyville? I had a few distant family members there but none of us were on speaking terms. I kept reading on, hoping for another clue.

Ken: “If I’m being completely honest, life hasn’t been all too great. Got divorced about a year ago, separated for over two. Moved back home and living with my mom. Just working and sleeping whenever I don’t have the kids. How about you? Have you and mom been doing okay?”

None of this was ringing a bell….I knew my seizures had done some damage but not this much! Who could this be? Lives with his mom, has kids and is divorced…..Still coming up blank I kept on.

Ken: “Hello? Are you okay?”

I felt terrible…..For the life of me, I just could NOT remember who this was! I dug through every memory I could think of with my previous clients but no one seemed to match that! I decided to bite the bullet and ask who this was.

Me: “Sorry it has taken so long for me to respond! I just got home from work and finished dinner. I am so sorry to hear about your recent struggles and I hope they get better. I hate to ask but my brain has seemed to realize we are no longer at work and has clocked out for the day. Would you remind me of your name?”

Hitting send, I took a deep breath and tried to reason with my guilt complex and anxiety. I’m not being rude, it’s completely reasonable to ask who it is! They seem to know me and mom, it’s been years since I’ve seen them and it’s understandable to ask for their name. They will understand and if they don’t, then I can just block them and delete the message. No skin off my back! The bubble popped up that indicated they were writing back so I waited a couple of minutes for their response but nothing came. I shrugged and locked the screen. Laying back on the couch, I listened to my book for about an hour before I could feel my eyes starting to get heavy. Yawning, I got up from the couch and stretched myself out. I could feel the tension on my neck and between my shoulder blades so I twisted around as best as I could to try to relieve some of it.

As I passed my mom, I told her I was headed to bed, gave her a kiss on the cheek and wished her a good night. In my room, I stripped off my pjs, put my earbuds back in my purse and put my phone on the charger for the night. I double checked all of my alarms were correct for the morning and crawled into my nest of blankets and pillows on the bed. Wrapping myself in my warmest blanket, I curled up and knew it wouldn’t take too long to fall asleep.

The next morning I flew in the door at work and rushed to clock in. Alarms that go off every 15 minutes, starting at six in the morning, and somehow I still overslept. Another perk of living at home, I wasn’t the only one who did that morning. My mom hollered down the hall that we were both running late and rushed to get ready. Had it not been for her, I would still be passed out in bed. I clocked in just in time and got all of my files out to get started on the day.

I hadn’t been sleeping well for a couple of weeks and had felt a little off lately, but stress always did that to me and in combination with not sleeping well? It wreaked havoc on my body so it made sense at the time as to why I felt so off. I checked my emails from overnight and saw that not only had the lawyers office send me a couple, but the title company had sent quite a few and the customer sent one in the middle of the night with new requests for his loan. I groaned and dropped my head down onto my desk. It was going to be another long day, I could already tell. It would be so much easier if they would communicate with each other instead of using me as the go between. This person wants this done, but won’t do it unless the other person says they will. The client wants this done but one place says no to the change while the other says yes. It was like dealing with children in a petty argument! I was shocked I still had hair on my head for as much as they made me want to rip it out.

I had never been more grateful to have an office of coffee addicts just like me. It meant there was at least 1 fresh carafe of coffee ready to go and Keurigs ready at a moments notice. I stepped into the conference room and sure enough, a fresh pot of what smelled like raspberry coffee was ready to go. I grabbed my favorite mug from the cabinet and filled it, leaving just enough room for a splash of creamer. I sat back down at my desk and took everything out I would need to survive the day. Earbuds from my purse, a charger in case they go dead, my phone and its charger, my vape and my worry stone. I popped an earbud in quickly and opened my music storage to see what felt good for the day.

Between my music collection at home and what I had purchased on my phone, I could always find something that sounded good for the day. Whether I needed something to kickstart the day or something to calm me down, I had it at the tip of my fingers at a moment’s notice. Feeling like I needed something a little heavier for the morning, I scrolled through my library until I came across Ozzy Osbourne. That sounded like the perfect way to start the day, and as soon as I clicked to play “No More Tears”, I knew it was the right one. I felt my body relax and my brain slow down. I grabbed my files, opened all my apps and got straight to work. The next thing I knew, it was lunch time and “Return Of The Mack” was blaring in my ears. I shook off the fog in my head and headed out for lunch, opting to spend it outside again since it wasn’t too bad out. I grabbed my phone and vape and stepped out the back door. I needed a chance to calm down and if the hustle and bustle I heard inside was anything to go by, I did NOT want to spend my lunch in there.

Once I got back to my desk, the afternoon flew by just as quickly as the morning did. I had worked over again without even realizing it, but at least tonight I wasn’t the only one. One of the other bank officers and a couple of the tellers were still in, trying to finish up their work and balance out for the day. I started to save everything on my desktop and made some notes for where I needed to start tomorrow and heard my phone go off. I finished up the last of what I needed to do and clocked out before heading outside to wait for my ride. I was shocked to see that “Ken” had responded back instead of just ignoring me. I still felt bad for forgetting whoever it is, I wouldn’t have blamed them if they didn’t respond.

Ken: “Oh, did you forget me already? Lol, just kidding. It HAS been a while, at least five years, since we’ve seen each other so I don’t blame you if it’s a little fuzzy. I’m sure your seizures haven’t helped much with that either.”

Okay wait, what? Whoever this was knew about my seizures, which means I knew them fairly well. I tried not to tell anyone unless I trusted them or if they absolutely HAD TO KNOW in case something happened. I typed out a reply as best as I could, my hands starting to shake a little.

Me: “I apologize, some of my older memories are a little harder to remember than they used to be.”

Ken: “Don’t apologize, you’re fine! I’m used to it by now! You’ve had memory problems since we were in school. I was actually surprised you responded to my first message, I wasn’t sure if you would remember me with how hazy your memory could be.”

Wait, in school?! Okay, who the fuck is this person and how do they know me?! I started to type out that exact response but before I could send it off, they sent me another message that made me freeze in place.

Ken: “It’s JB”

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