#until the mistake is pathological lying | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mariacallous · 2 months ago

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Imagine that the day has come for your brain surgery. You are lying, immobilized and vulnerable, on the operating table. Something is wrong, but you hope that it can be repaired. As the anesthesia sets in, you reflect. To be sure, your brain hasn't always performed the way you wished it had. You have made some mistakes, and done some stupid things, regrettable things, wrong things. But still, it is the brain that allows for a reconsideration of all that, to adjust, to have some hope and some possibility of doing better next time. Your brain keeps you going, keeps you in touch with the world. Hopefully, yours can be repaired, and you can get back to thinking, being, becoming. You could get better. As darkness descends, you catch a glimpse of a person dressed as a surgeon, approaching your head with a knife and a smile. It's Tulsi Gabbard. Hope gives way to horror.

This dark fantasy suggests, on a very small scale, the national trauma that lies before us. Gabbard is Donald Trump's choice to operate American intelligence. In the intelligence system, a kind of national brain, the Director of National Intelligence oversees and coordinates the work of agencies charged with knowing the world, protecting the integrity of digital systems, anticipating and preventing terrorism, and evaluating national security threats. Gabbard is the opposite of qualified for such a role: she is a disinformer and as an apologist for the war crimes of dictatorships.

Gabbard appears on the world stage as a defender of a million violent deaths.

She is an apologist for two of the great atrocities of the century: the Russian-Syrian suppression of the Syrian opposition to the Bashar al-Assad dictatorship, which has taken about half a million lives, most of them civilians, some of them by chemical weapons; and the Russian invasion of Ukraine, which has also taken about half a million lives, and has brought the destruction of whole cities, the kidnapping of children, mass torture, and the large-scale execution of civilians.

That is it. That is her profile. Disinformer and apologist. Beyond the United States, in the larger world that US intelligence agencies are tasked to understand, she is associated with her pro-Assad and pro-Putin positions. (In third place, I suppose, would be her propensity to provide the Chinese state media with useful sound bites).

Until 2014, Gabbard said nothing remarkable about foreign affairs. In 2015, just before Putin intervened to save Assad, she began her extraordinary journey of apology for atrocity. In September of that year, Putin sent Russian mercenaries, soldiers, and airmen to Syria to defend Assad. The great advantage Putin could bring to Assad was to multiply the regime's air strikes, which were turned against hospitals and other civilian targets. Hospitals were and remain a Russian specialty.

In June 2015, as a congresswoman from Hawai'i, Gabbard visited Syria. During her stay, she was introduced to girls who had been burned from head to toe by a regime air strike. Her reaction to the situation, according to her translator, was to try to persuade the girls that they had been injured not by Syrian forces, but by the resistance. But this was impossible. Only Syria (at the time of her visit) and Russia (beginning weeks later) were flying planes and dropping bombs.

Either Gabbard was catastrophically uninformed about the most basic elements of the theater of war she was visiting, or she was consciously spreading disinformation. Those are the two possibilities. The first is disqualifying; the second is worse.

And if she was spreading disinformation consciously, she was also doing so with a pathological ruthlessness. Anyone who would lie to the child victims of an air strike to their burned faces would lie to anyone about anything. In January 2017, she visited Syria again, this time to speak to Assad. She began thereafter to deny that his regime had used chemical weapons on its own people. That was a very big lie.

In Washington, in speeches in Congress, Gabbard showed an uncanny ability to turn almost any issue into a justification for defending the Assad regime. In 2016, concern for Christians in Syria was a pretext to defend the Assad regime. In 2017, she presented worries about terrorism as a reason to defend of the Assad regime. In 2018, the anniversary of 9/11 was her prompt for defending the Assad regime. In 2019, she found her way from the genocide of Armenians a century earlier to the need to defend the Assad regime. She even worked hard to segue from the lack of affordable housing in Hawai'i to the need to defend the Assad regime. Gabbard's support of Assad was so well known that her colleagues, Republican and Democratic alike, were worried that she would reveal the identity of a Syrian photographer brought to Congress to testify about Assad's atrocities.

For Russia, Syria was a testing ground for Ukraine. The atrocities perpetrated by Russians in Syria were repeated in Ukraine. In 2021, the largest donor to Gabbard’s PAC was an apologist for Putin. When the Russian full-scale invasion of Ukraine began in February of the following year, Gabbard, a consumer of Russian propaganda, was immediately ready as a channel for the Russian line, including obvious Russian disinformation. Again and again, over and over, her public statements were strikingly similar to Putin’s,

Amidst the farrago of lies that Russia used to justify its full-scale invasion invasion was the completely bogus claim that Ukraine was site of American biolabs that were testing which infections would be most harmful to Slavs (and thus Russians). This lie originates in Russia and was spread by Russian media, along with some Chinese and Syrian echo chambers, and with a set of western helpers -- one of whom was Tulsi Gabbard. She also urged, "in the spirit of Aloha," that Ukraine react to the invasion by surrendering its sovereignty to Russia. She later justified Russia's invasion of Ukraine by the notion, common in Moscow, that Russia was the victim of American attempts to overthrow Putin. She was specifically thanked by Russian state media for defending Russian war propaganda.

To be sure, the wars and the regions are complex. Even if Assad falls, as now looks increasingly likely, Syria will be a mess, with unsavory and dangerous people in power. There is, of course, room for disagreement about American foreign policy, including with respect to Assad and Putin and their twinned atrocities. That can all be taken for granted, and provides no excuse whatever for Gabbard's very unusual behavior. It is strange, to say the least, that Gabbard says nothing about these regimes that they have not first said about themselves, and that she uses her platform to spread their own very specific disinformation.

One feature of disinformation is that it is factually incorrect: and so the very least (or most?) that can be said about Gabbard is that she consistently wrong on matters of the greatest moral and political significance. But the other element of disinformation is that it is consciously and maliciously designed to confuse. These memes (biolabs!) are tested and perfected before they are released. Disinformation is the opposite of an innocent mistake: it is concocted to make rational reflection and sensible policy difficult. Disinformation, in other words, is a weapon that one regime tries to spread within another society or -- in the dream of a hostile spy chief -- within another society's intelligence service. That is part of what Gabbard offers America’s enemies, and it is bad enough, because it means that systems meant to protect Americans instead put them in danger. It goes without saying that American allies would be unable to cooperate with the United States, and that patriotic intelligence officers would resign in droves. Informers around the world would cease their work. The US government would be cut off from the world.

As Director of National Intelligence, Gabbard would do enormous harm, unwillingly or willingly. She is not just completely unqualified for this role -- she is anti-qualified. She is just the sort of person enemies of the American republic would want in this job. This is not a hypothetical -- Gabbard is the specific person that actual enemies of the United States do want in the job. The Russian media refers to Tulsi Gabbard as a "Russian agent" and as "girlfriend," with good reason.

Gabbard is worse than unfit. Her public record is as a disinformer and apologist for mass murderers. And there is nothing on the other side of the ledger. There are no positive qualifications. (Yes, she wrote a bestselling book. It became a bestseller because she scammed her followers into donating to a PAC which bought the book in bulk.)

Gabbard is just as qualified to operate on your brain as she is to operate the national intelligence services. Would you let her? She clearly wants to take up the knife. Whose idea, one wonders, was that?

Imagine, because it is true, that the day will soon come when we name the person who will operate the national intelligence services. To be sure, like our own minds, the intelligence services of the United States haven't always performed well. There have been mistakes, and manipulation, and downright evil. But there has also been learning, and some recent, impressive showings, as in the precise and public prediction of the Russian invasion of Ukraine. Intelligence services are a central part of government. Just as a brain might need surgery, American intelligence needs reform. But it does not need to be butchered for the pleasure of enemies.

PS: Further sources: In Sketches from a Secret War I write about intelligence, counter-intelligence, disinformation, and active measures. In The Road to Unfreedom I write about the Russian intervention in Syria and the associated atrocities. On the early Russian bombings of hospitals in particular I cited these sources: Amnesty International: “Syria: Russia’s shameful failure to acknowledge civilian killings,” Amnesty International, 23 December 2015; Physicians for Human Rights: “Russian Warplanes Strike Medical Facilities in Syria,” Physicians for Human Rights, 7 October 2015. Russian hackers punished those who wrote about the bombings: "Pawn Storm APT Group Returns," SC Magazine, 23 October 2015.

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blossomwritesthings · 1 year ago

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𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐥𝐮𝐞. | 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠

⬷ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮�� ┊ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 →

pairing: felix x fem!reader (afab) // chan x fem!reader (afab)

genre: nonidol/collegegrad!felix. waitress!reader. college au. hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. smut - MDNI, 18+ only. reader pov. friends to enemies to lovers au. slowburn romance. lots of pining. cheating. abusive boyfriend/ex. drama galore. the sexual tension is REAL in this one.

content & warnings: depictions of domestic & verbal abuse are at the beginning of this chapter, please take care in reading. explicit & strong language. very thematic elements. felix is reader's estranged childhood bestie. chan is low-key an asshole in this ngl. heavy topics are mentioned such as: abusive/toxic relationships, cheating, and pathological lying. drinking/partying. the summer vibes are real in this one. there will be humor/fluff throughout to balance everything. and ofc smut too because who am i if not a whore for filthy felix smut. 😉

word count: 3.0k

summary: ever since you were born, all you've ever known is living a simple life in the small australian coastal town of bridgeport bay. you're content with working at your parent's beachside restaurant angel waves for the rest of your life, and you're happy with your place in the world - you have good friends and an even better boyfriend. that is, until everything comes to a standstill when a familiar face from the past visits town for the summer. and in the wake of his return, lee felix upturns everything you thought you were content with here in your comforting little beach town.

a/n: I wrote this in a fitful manic episode yesterday morning when I should've instead been working on uni hw instead... that's the story of my fucking life, apparently. 💀 we're finally getting to the very climax of this entire fic ya'll... and I promise that this won't be dragged on forever lmao, so there's only a few chapters left to this series~ 😃

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ᴅᴏ ɴᴏᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴏsᴛ ᴛᴏ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ sɪᴛᴇs (ᴛʜɪs ɪɴᴄʟᴜᴅᴇs ᴛʀᴀɴsʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs). do not copy, spin-off, or write inspired work based off of this fanfic without full permission to do so. ©ʙʟᴏssᴏᴍᴡʀɪᴛᴇsᴛʜɪɴɢs ⤐ ᴀʟʟ ʀɪɢʜᴛs ʀᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ

“You are nothing, and you’ll never be anything else besides the girl I fuck on the side,” Chris was saying to you with a deep sneer on his face. He was staring up at you, as he leaned in and kissed Yeji in a lewd kind of way there on the sofa. “I never loved you as much as her.”

“I fucking hate you…” You started to seethe out in a low voice, your entire body shaking. Yet you couldn’t stop watching - couldn’t stop looking at the train wreck unfolding in front of you. “I fucking hate you so much, do you know that?!”

Chris raised an eyebrow your way at your screams, and soon, he was standing up from the couch, trailing over to you silently with brooding eyes and sloped shoulders. Yeji glared at the interruption, clocking you with a nasty frown as she looked on with disinterest.

Your ex reached out to you, and despite your best efforts, you weren’t fast enough for him.

Soon, he had his hands wrapped in your hair, yanking your head back to display the redness of embarrassment that dusted your cheeks and nose at that moment.

“Look at you- all worked up like a pathetic little bitch because you don’t have my attention any longer,” He grumbled, yanking on your roots a little harder and making you yelp out in pain. “You’re truly astonishing— thinking I’d ever love you enough to keep you around.”

Instead of replying to his cruel words, you just leaned forward and spit on him. It sprayed across his face, and instantly, you knew that it had been a mistake.

The fire in his eyes darkened, and before your mind could even register what was happening, he was pushing you to the side so hard, that you fell across the floor at his feet. One side of your face hit the hardwood with a resounding slap, pain immediately radiating across your left cheek.

Soon, he was getting on top of you, hitting you across the cheek before taking hold of the column of your neck and beginning to squeeze.

The grip was so strong, you could feel your pulse racing at the base of your throat. Your heartbeats clamored in your ears, drowning out all other sounds - the way you could hear Yeji snicker in the background, and how he was saying something.

His lips were moving, but you couldn’t hear a single word.

Instead, you could only feel the way the warm tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes, the way your limbs shook underneath Chris as he pinned you down to the floor.

“Stupid cunt- you think you have the right to spit on me?! I’ll teach you a lesson!�� That’s the last words you caught before he squeezed even tighter.

The blackness took over everything, bleeding into the corners of your vision and blurring your surroundings. And soon, you were closing your eyes to stave off some of the hurt. To hide from the way the two of them looked on at you like that - their faces painted in evil streaks of crimsons and violets.

And for one last time, you let out a guttural, heart-wrenching scream. The kind that strained vocal cords and your throat and made your tongue feel heavy in your mouth.

Too suddenly, you were being shaken.

At first, you thought it was Chris stirring you awake to torture you once more.

But, when you cracked your eyes open, you were met with glaring sunlight. The golden, yellow orb was hanging high in the sky, shining against a bright blue backdrop. It twinkled through the nearby curtained window, casting everything around you in a soft kind of hue.

Then, you realized the position you were in. And turning away from the window, you noticed…

Felix.

Laying right there beside you, in bed...

In his bed.

And he was holding onto you - arms wrapped around your waist tightly.

He was the one who had been shaking you.

Shaking you awake.

Felix was staring at you, dark brows pulled together in concern and faded, blonde locks messy from the pillow he was lying on. Reaching out, he brushed a gentle finger underneath your chin, before resting his warm palm against your cheek. “Angel… are you alright?” He asked in a soft voice, swiping away your excess tears with the pads of his thumbs.

“I-I had a bad dream, that’s all.” You said, not being able to hold eye contact with him anymore and looking away. Slowly, you turned in his arms to catch small glimpses of his room.

It was almost the exact same as when you had last seen it, all those years ago, before he had left for Korea to attend university. His full bed frame was decorated with the seashells he had found on the nearby beach as a middle schooler, the ones he had glued into the wood with your help one weekend during the summer a decade before. He still slept with his dark blue comforter that was just as soft as you remembered it. The rest of his bedroom was decorated similarly, with dark blue and white accents throughout.

His desk was full of junk - crumpled-up papers and clothes and shopping bags. He was a spender, that was for sure. His nearby dresser had a collection of skincare products on top of it… ranging from different toners, about five moisturizers, and a bunch of other things you had no clue what the uses were for.

“Nothing’s changed in here.” You mused softly, turning on your side slowly so that he wasn’t holding onto you so tight. But Felix took your stirring as a sign that you wanted to be free of his grip, so he began to shift his arms away. “No— please, don’t.” You reached out to his retreating arms, already feeling the tears well up in your eyes again. “I— I need you right now.”

Felix gave you a faint smile, a tiny bit of his eyes sparkling in mirth as he reached out and pulled you even closer to him. Soon, you were nestled into his chest, breathing in his familiar scent of musk and vanilla, and feeling comforted by his mere presence.

“We slept just like this, you know…” Felix began, and the sound of his voice so close to your ear sent a jolt of energy down the center of your spine. “You… you woke up when I got home and when I tried to sleep on the floor you were— were begging me to hold you. So I— I did.” And as he spoke, you could sense just a tad bit of hesitation from him. Like he felt uncomfortable telling you about the night before, afraid he'd possibly trigger you.

“Thank you,” You whispered, burrowing your face in the warmth of his t-shirt, half in embarrassment and half in sadness. “You’re always there for me when no one else is.”

“Not all of the time- not for the past four years.”

“I know- but that wasn’t your fault. You… You were just protecting yourself.”

Felix scoffed dryly, and there wasn’t an ounce of humor in the laugh. “Yeah— protecting myself, that’s what I was doing.”

Slowly, you turned away from his chest and stared up at him. And only then did you realize how close the two of you were. You could practically feel his warm breath fanning against your cheek from the closeness. You could see every single dark freckle that was scattered in the constellation across his cheeks and nose. And on impulse, without even realizing it, you were reaching your hand out and brushing a few of your fingers against his smattering of freckles. You could feel the way he tensed up underneath the touch, holding your gaze as you studied his soft skin.

“You’re the single-most person to ever be there for me, no matter what, Felix,” You muttered in a low voice, tracing the slope of his nose and sharp jawline with your index finger. “And it doesn’t matter who was at fault for the last few years… it was both of us, I think. But despite all of that shit from the past— you came back to me. And you’re here now, unlike… other people in my life.”

“Of course, I’ll always be here for you, y/n,” Felix started, clasping a warm hand over yours and squeezing it tightly, pressing your palm against his cheek and leaning into the touch ever so slowly. “And I’m sorry about the silence, from all of those years ago. It was shitty of me to do.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry too.”

“And I’m sorry about Chris— I… I should’ve warned you that—“

“No. Don’t even start with that bullshit. You did nothing wrong. And besides, you tried to warn me. For such a long time. But I… I was blinded, like a stupid fucking idiot and I—”

You felt slim fingers fitting across your mouth before you could say anything else, as Felix covered your lips to stop you from talking. “Do not call yourself that. You’re none of those things, I don’t care what Chris tries to tell you.”

Staring up at him, you saw all the emotions so clearly flowing through his eyes just then… adoration, sadness, and even anger. You swallowed down the feelings that were starting to bubble up around the lump that had formed in your throat from the night before.

“Do you… wanna talk about your dream?” Felix asked, hesitantly, like he had been wanting to bring up the subject but didn’t know how.

Your fingers grasped onto his wrist, pulling his hand back just gradually so that you could place a soft kiss against his open palm. Then you were guiding it back to your waist.

“It was— scary. He was scary in it, and… so was Yeji.”

“You know, you can cry about it if you want. This is a safe space for whatever you’re feeling right now.”

“Yeah, I know,” You flashed him a gradual, humorless smile. “I guess I’m just too exhausted to do anything else but lay here. I feel like— he doesn’t even deserve my time or emotional energy.”

“Well yeah, and you did cry yourself to sleep last night, so maybe that’s why you have no tears left.”

Your eyes widened in surprise at Felix’s words. But it made sense, from the way that your throat felt all scratchy and dry, and your eyes were puffy at the edges. “I bet I was a fucking mess last night.” Scoffing, you shook your head in disbelief. You wished you could’ve been stronger the night before, but at the time, you just had no more energy to fight off the feelings.

“A beautiful one, that’s for sure.”

Felix’s words were met with deafening silence for a few moments, as you processed them. All you could hear was the faint whirr of the nearby air conditioner wall unit and the soft lapping of waves against the shoreline just outside of his window.

Your eyes flicked up to him just then, and you raised a quizzical eyebrow to play off how badly his words had affected you. Shoving his shoulder playfully, you chuckled heartily. “Yeah, if you call runny mascara and a swollen face beautiful…”

After that, the room grew quiet once more.

But it wasn’t an awkward kind of quiet. It was the kind you had been so used to with Felix, the one that was comfortable and heartwarming.

And soon, you found your lips moving again and your voice flowing out once more.

“I should’ve known, that he would do something like this… I mean, he was the fucking star of the soccer team in high school. He had girls at his beck and call every single second of the day.”

“No one could’ve known, angel. Don’t beat yourself up over it.”

Felix’s words did little to soothe your racing heart and mind.

And while half of the emotions you were feeling were due to Chris and the fresh breakup, the other half were… things you didn’t know how to put a name to. Things you had no clue about. But all that you knew, what that they related to... Felix.

“You did, Lix.”

Shrugging nonchalantly, Felix rolled his eyes dramatically to try and take some of the tension out of the stifling air around the two of you in bed. “I don’t count in this equation, ‘cause I always know these kinds of things.”

Slowly, you began to pull away from his arms. And the sudden absence of his hold around you forced anxious butterflies to stir in the pit of your stomach. But one look outside of the nearby window behind Felix, and you could tell that it was growing late in the morning.

“I was out all night- my parents will start to worry if I stay here any longer.” You said as an explanation when Felix tried to reach out to hold you again. Because as much as you wanted to stay there with him - basking under the warm sunlight and curling up against his side underneath the blankets - you also had other responsibilities to attend to. Like working at Angel Waves and studying for an upcoming exam you had.

“Don’t even worry about it, I understand.” Felix flashed you a gentle smile. But you knew him well enough - had grown up with him for most of your life - and you knew when he was feeling sad. Because at that moment, you supposed he would also feel your absence from his bed and arms.

It was only after you stumbled out of his sheets that you remembered what you had been wearing the night before on your date with Chris. The short, red mini-dress that he always loved. Too bad it wasn’t enough to keep him, though, the dark thought crossed your mind so quickly it was hard to stop it.But as quickly as it dawned upon you, you also decided to brush it away.

Because there was no use in crying over a man who didn’t love you. Who hadn’t loved you in probably a very long time. Who had been shanking you in the back with a knife since day one.

You could physically feel Felix’s gaze on you, as you awkwardly yanked down the sides of your dress. But it was so fucking short, it barely covered your ass. You reached down near the bed frame to pick up your purse and shoes that had been cast aside haphazardly. And when you stood up, Felix was already out of bed and right beside you, holding out a lengthy jacket.

“What’s this for?” You asked skeptically, as you took it from his hands. Raising a questioning eyebrow his way, you slipped it on and were immediately overcome with the familiar scent of him. It was comforting and pleasant and… made the butterflies in your stomach flitter around in a frenzy.

For a few moments, Felix’s gaze left yours and traveled down the expanse of your body, skirting up your legs and stopping somewhere at your… middle, before landing back on your face. From a few beats, a dark look crossed over his face. Like he was thinking about something entirely different than you covering up in his jacket. “Uhm— probably wouldn’t want your parents to see you wearing that when you walk in the front door this morning.” Felix chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his head like he always did when he was feeling awkward.

“It’s fine, I’ll just climb through my bedroom window.”

“Still, take it.”

“Why?” You said in a low voice, twirling around in your spot tauntingly with the jacket covering your shoulders. “Because it’s too... slutty?”

Felix gave you a deadpanned look, the sparkle in his irises twinkling just a little bit at your teasing. “No, I just mean that—“

Laughing heartily at the way pink began to dust across his cheeks and the tip of his nose, you slapped his arm playfully. “Don’t worry about it Lix, I was just teasing ya.”

Just then, you caught sight of the clock that was on top of his dresser. The time read just past eleven in the morning. You could feel the anxiety beginning to rise inside of you as you realized how late it was...

And your mind registered just how long you had spent at his childhood house, in his bedroom, in his bed. With him.

“Shit— it’s getting really fucking late, I gotta go!” You scrambled to slip your heels on, shouldering your small purse and wrapping the jacket a little tighter around your waist. Reaching forward, you grabbed Felix’s hand and squeezed it once. “Thank you so much, for everything. I owe you big time, Lix. Keep in touch, yeah?”

Felix tilted his head just marginally to the side, offering you an easy smile. “You don’t have to thank me, angel. It’s what... friends do.”

And the entire five-minute walk home, after you left Felix’s house, your mind kept repeating his last words to you over and over again.

But…

Friends don’t call each other beautiful,

Friends don’t hold each other in bed like that,

Friends don’t beg for the other not to let go,

Friends don’t kiss each other’s palms,

Friends don’t look at each other’s bodies with such a ravenous heat in their eyes,

Not like Felix had done just that morning when he looked you up and down.

Yes, friends definitely don't do any of that.

To be continued...

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bleach-your-panties · 1 year ago

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💔the pathological liar - pro hero! yo shindou x fem! pro hero! gf! reader

warnings: characters aged up to 20+, lying, cheating, arguing, manipulation, gaslighting, sexual activities, non-con (reader does say no), dub-con, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, name-calling, physical struggles, physical fighting (one-sided, so assault?), reader has a smart ass mouth and is kinda toxic as well, slight!yandere!yo, toxic relationships, toxic mindsets, false imprisonment, triggering subject at the end. read at your own risk!

☠️: some dialogue/actions inspired by true events.

💔: banner images from pinterest.

💔: banner made by me with canva.

post themes: say my name - destiny's child

confessions, parts I & II - usher

take a bow - rihanna

shake it off - mariah carey

💔 3.5k words

💔read in dark mode for best experience!

🖤series 🖤touya.

—--

I know you say that I am assuming things

Something's going down that's the way it seems

Shouldn't be no reason why you're acting strange

If nobody's holding you back from me

'Cause I know how you usually do

When you're saying everything to me times two

Why can't you just tell the truth?

If somebody's there, then tell me who

—--

"Baby, ain't nothing good. It's all bad."

—--

'Your call has been forwarded to an automated voice message system:

"Shindou, Yo". Cannot come to the phone right now, please leave your message at the tone-'

Before the recording could finish, you were throwing your iPhone across your bed as you shrugged your backpack off of your shoulders.

Your boyfriend, Yo Shindou, never answered his phone when you called. Never when you called, but he'd always immediately send a text or call you back hours later, claiming that his phone was dead or that he'd misplaced it somewhere at the agency.

Like now, for example.

'ding'

'Sorry babe, got caught up in something last minute at the agency. Call you back when I'm home. Love you.'

You scoffed as you read over the message.

You wouldn't be getting a call back, that much you knew for certain.

With a sudden urge to be petty, you texted back:

'Something like what, Yo? Another bitch's pussy? Yeah, people at my agency are starting to talk and guess who's the topic of conversation? Just know that the label of 'cheating boyfriend' won't do your "picture perfect" image any justice. Bitch.'

After hitting send, you tossed the phone back onto your bed and that was where it would lay until you got out of the shower.

As soon as your bathroom door closed, the phone vibrated with another text.

'Oh, so we're doing this shit again? Bet. I'll be over in 20.'

—

After moisturizing your body and putting on some pajamas, you climbed into bed and pulled out the book that you'd been reading. Leaving your phone discarded somewhere in the covers.

It was starting to get to one of the more interesting parts when a chorus of loud, booming knocks came on your front door.

"Who in the fuck?" You threw the covers back furiously and slipped your fluffy slippers on.

You walked out of your room and down the hallway, the beating at the door only growing more intense as you sucked your teeth.

"I'm coming, dammit!"

Pulling the door open without checking the peephole first would be your first mistake of the night.

When the messy mop of dark locks, green/yellow hero uniform, and chiseled pecs came into your view, you immediately tried to slam the door shut. Yo wasn't having any of that.

He grabbed the edge of the door, wedging half of his body inside of your apartment before he pushed it forward with force, making it slam and bounce off of the wall.

Once his boots made contact with the carpeted floor of your apartment, you took multiple steps back, putting about two feet of distance between the two of you.

"What's wrong, baby? You don't look too happy to see me."

Scoffing harshly, you bit your bottom lip between your teeth as you glared up at him.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, huh? Beating on my goddamn door like you've lost your mind. Thought you were caught up in something? That just goes to show that all you do is fucking lie. You bitch."

Yo just looked at you with his face scrunched up. He was clearly irritated with your antics, especially the name-calling. Kicking off his boots, he began to walk towards you.

"Stop fucking being difficult, Y/N. You know, baby, if you missed me and wanted some dick, all you had to do was ask nicely."

He said in that irritating, condescending tone that he always uses when talking to those that he feels are beneath him. You being one of those. Even though you're a pro-hero just like he is.

Not believing what you were hearing, your mouth dropped open. You could feel the blood begin to rise in your ears, loud and whooshing against your skull.

A dry chuckle then left your lips.

"You think…that all of this is because I want some dick? Trust me, sweetie, if I just wanted some dick I could go get it from any one of your co-workers. A lot of them have been giving me the eye, you know. Especially since you're never around and I just changed up my hero uniform, so the skirt is short-"

Yo cut you off by grabbing you by the biceps and yanking you towards him, making you stumble and throw your arms out to try to balance yourself before he then slammed you up against the wall.

"Don't fucking play with me, Y/N. If you know what's good for you, you'll think twice about trying to entertain one of those bastards. Especially-"

"Especially who? Bakugou? Oh, he'd be my first choice if I were to step out on you." You smirked up at him.

He snarled. Your smirk widened as you could physically hear him grinding his teeth.

Yo was quiet for a moment, just glaring at you as you stared right back at him with a bored look on your face. You even went as far as to yawn.

"Yeah, it's not so fun when the rabbit has the gun, huh?"

He didn't answer, but instead pulled you off of the wall and hoisted you up over his shoulder. A big hand came up and smacked forcefully against your ass.

"That's alright. I know how to fix you." He chortled darkly, moving away to begin walking down the hallway to your bedroom.

"I don't want your community ass dick! Put me down, Yo!"

He just ignored you and kicked open the door to the room.

"Sure you don't. You always do this shit to get my attention, Y/N. Catch an attitude, start a stupid ass argument, and then I fuck it out of you. Same shit, different goddamn day, baby."

Yo said after tossing you onto the bed, making your forgotten phone flop onto the floor. He gave it a puzzled look.

"Oh, so that's why you seemed so surprised to see me. You didn't read my text."

He chuckled, reaching to grab your hip to flip you over onto your stomach as if you were a pancake.

Rough hands began to caress your feet, ankles, and legs, all the way up to your inner thighs and bottom of your ass cheeks, just under the hem of your nightdress.

"No panties? Yeah, you were definitely planning on getting dicked down tonight, you needy little slut."

SMACK

Your back arched off of the bed at the painful stinging of Yo's slaps. His hands felt heavy as lead as they connected with your soft flesh.

SMACK

"Where are you going? Thought you liked when I spank you, huh?"

Yo wrapped an arm around your waist to bring you back when you tried crawling up the bed to escape him.

"Stop it, Yo…hurts…" You whined.

"It hurts, Yo, please stop." He mocked. "Stop being a fucking brat, then."

He grabbed one of your ass cheeks and squeezed hard, making you moan out involuntarily.

"Moaning like this but you don't want my dick? I bet you're dripping fucking wet for me right now, Y/N. Dare me to check?"

You didn't respond, which prompted Yo to do as he suggested and slip two fingers underneath you between your ass cheeks to get to your slick folds.

"Damn baby, all this for me, yeah? Only me."

He growled. With his large hand, he covered your entire bare pussy and activated his Quirk.

A harsh shiver wracked through your entire body, another soft moan leaving your lips. Yo only pressed harder, moving his fingertips to graze over your clit repeatedly.

"Y-Yo…please, daddy…" You whined, making him smirk down at you. He increased the vibration of his fingers along with rubbing your clit from side to side.

"Say you're sorry for bringing up Bakugou and I might let you feel this fat dick next..." Yo rested his upper body against your back and snaked his free arm under you to hold you up off the bed just a bit.

"No..I'm…n-not sorry. I meant it. Oh fuck!"

Yo grimaced before grabbing you and flipping you back over onto your back.

"What did you say?"

Your e/c eyes were wet with unshed tears as you frowned up at his handsome face. You didn't falter.

"You heard me."

"I thought I told you that if you know what's good for you, you won't even think about that motherfucker!" He seethed.

"I obviously don't know what's good for me if I'm still fucking around with you!"

Before you knew what was happening, Yo had pinned you to the bed by your throat. Moving between your legs, he used his knees to spread them.

"Yo, stop!"

"Shut up, bitch. You'll learn to stop pissing me off one day."

His belt hit the bed as he undid it, his black pants and underwear soon following it. You tried to pull your legs up, but he surged forward, pushing his hard dick inside you with one thrust.

Head falling back against the soft mattress, you couldn't help but keen as Yo began a rough, fast pace. He gripped your calf to pull you closer and stretch you open wider for him.

"Yes, Yo…right there! I'm going to cum!"

Yo grunted in response, trying to hold back from cumming himself.

"Yeah, baby? My fingers got you all ready to cum on my dick? Let it go then, oh shit."

He sped up even more, making your free breasts bounce outside of your nightgown and the headboard hit the wall. It already had a small dent in it from your previous heated romps, but neither of you seemed to care very much.

It could be painted over once you moved out.

"Oh God, I…!"

Your release splashed against Yo's pelvis and drenched the sheets beneath you.

"Ah, fuck. Yeah, made that little pussy squirt, huh? Stay still for me, baby. I'm about to nut."

Your eyes widened. "Yo, no. You're not wearing a condom and I haven't replaced my NuvaRing yet!"

It had been out for five days now while you waited on your doctor to send in a new prescription.

That didn't stop him. Either he was too deep into his impending orgasm to hear you, or he was flat out ignoring you.

"Yo!"

"SHIT! AGHH!"

Blind fury clouded your vision while Yo's was clouded for a completely different reason altogether.

"Damn…" He breathed out, making sure to stay deep inside you until he was finished cumming.

Once you got your bearings, you sat up abruptly, making Yo stumble back onto his elbows. He sucked his teeth once he saw your angered face.

"What's wrong, sweetheart? You don't want to have my baby?"

"Yo, we're both in our early 20's at the height of our hero careers. We're nowhere near ready for a damn baby!"

The raven-haired man was about to respond until a soft, vibrating sound silenced the both of you.

You slowly swung your legs over the side of the bed, searching for the source of the noise.

Bending down, you surveyed the floor briefly. Your forgotten cell phone lay halfway underneath the bed.

It's not your phone going off.

Yo could've been mistaken for a ghost; you watched his face blanch white while he patted the pockets of his discarded pants searching for the missing device.

A race against time, but you spotted it first.

With the rectangular device being tangled in your covers, Yo almost knocked you off the bed trying to get to it, but you were way faster than him. It was already in your hand.

tatas💕: my appointment is at 3pm tomorrow. are you going to be able to make it?

You scrunched your nose and swatted Yo's hand away while reading the text.

"Appointment? What is this about, and why does Tatami need you there?"

Cold e/c eyes turned to stone while you watched Yo fidget nervously. This is one of the only times you've seen him like this; the other when he asked you out for the first time.

"Y/N…do you love me?"

"What kind of question is that, Yo? If I didn't, would I still be with you?"

"Unconditionally?"

Your nose scrunched. Something isn't right…

You knew all about Tatami. Yo's ex-girlfriend from high school. He told you that he broke it off during their third year because she was becoming too clingy. You'd even met her once, when you had a joint mission with her agency.

"Yes…"

"Say you'll never leave me?"

Oh hell no. He was asking too many questions now.

"What did you do, Yo? Huh?!"

He just hung his head. His phone vibrated again in your hand.

----

Everything that I've been doing is all bad

I've got a chick on the side

With the crib and the ride

I've been telling you so many lies

Aint none good, it's all bad

And I just wanna confess, it's been going on so long

Girl I been doing you so wrong and I want you to know that

----

"Everytime you called my phone, I wasn't at the agency working overtime…I..I was with Tatami."

A long, loud sigh left your lips. Your free hand came up, knuckles resting against your forehead.

I don't want to look, but I know I have to…

"Y/N.." Yo warned.

new message

"Y/N, please, baby…"

tatas💕: i know the doctor said that we won't know the sex until about 20 weeks, but i can't help being so excited! we're possibly going to have a little yo running around soon! 👶🏻

Your grip on the phone tightened.

----

If I could turn back the hands of time

And start all over I would

Instead of everything being all bad, baby

Everything'll be all good

I know today is the day that I end all the lying and the playing and the bullshit, girl

----

"Y/N, I'm sorr-"

WHAM!

Your knuckles that you'd been resting against your forehead went across Yo's face at the speed of light. You punched him hard as hell in his face, making him tumble over and off the foot of the bed. The sight would've been hilarious if you weren't so fucking pissed.

"I knew I was right…." You chuckled. "I fucking knew it. You knew that she was pregnant, too. You've known for months."

Yo looked up at you with big, watery eyes full of regret. Almost like he was a different person entirely.

One hand clutched his throbbing cheek. You'd hit him so hard that his lower lip busted. His perfect face would soon be discolored black and blue, across his forehead, nose (that was also bleeding now), and right eye.

"I'm sorry! Baby, I'm sorry!"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP, YO! YOU'RE ONLY SORRY BECAUSE YOU GOT FUCKING CAUGHT!" You raged. You lunged off the bed at him and started hitting him everywhere, as hard as you could. You even grabbed two handfuls of his black hair and yanked his head around.

Yo finally grabbed your arms and pinned them against your chest. You'd grown exhausted, so you just let yourself fall against his naked chest.

A bitter chuckle, then the tears, hot and angry. You couldn't hold them any longer as you looked up at Yo, staring at his swollen, beaten face.

"You're so fucking ugly when you cry. What the fuck are you crying for, huh? I'm the one that got cheated on. Lied to, played with, manipulated."

"Not only did you fucking lie to me and cheat on me, but you fucked around and got the bitch pregnant, too. This has got to be a joke."

Yo slowly crawled up from the floor with you in his arms, blood dripping down his nose and lip, staining the carpet, then the bedsheets while you covered your face with your hands and sobbed.

He cradled you gently and laid his head against yours, lips kissing at the temples.

"Baby, please…we can work this out. I don't love her. I love you, but I…I still want to be there for the baby…"

Your brokenhearted wails only increased in volume.

"Don't cry, baby. I promise I'll be here for you and our baby, too."

—-

Three Months Later

Yo made good on his word to be there for you.

Shortly after his "confession", you found out that you were pregnant as well.

Tatami is currently six months along, while you're only three.

Turns out that all of this was a part of Yo's twisted plan.

Instead of your late birth control being due to your doctor's or the pharmacy's incompetence, it was Yo who called the doctor's office pretending to be your husband and had them cancel your refill request.

Yo then demanded suggested that you take time off from hero work while you were carrying his child, which you slightly agreed with, but still did so with reluctance.

You don't know how he did it, but you guessed being one of the top 20 heroes carried with it a lot of weight for him to be able to take off enough to make it to all of yours and Tatami's appointments.

He even moved you out of your apartment and into his. Into your own room.

The reason that you had your own room was because Tatami ended up losing her apartment due to being out of work, so Yo moved her in as well.

With the way that the living arrangements had been set up, you and Tatami might as well have been sister wives.

To attempt to keep things "fair" between the both of you, Yo would designate certain nights where either of you would get to sleep in the room with him. So neither of you would feel neglected by him.

His heart was in the right place, wasn't it?

Even when you could clearly hear the whispered moans and soft creaking of the bed from Yo's room on Tatami's nights.

No matter how you tried to make yourself not hear it.

Yo didn't want you stressing out, he claimed, so he bought you many expensive gifts and gadgets to help you get a good night's rest.

None of them worked.

Not when the walls in that apartment were paper thin.

Many nights you cried and raged to yourself.

Obviously all of that stress wasn't healthy for the baby.

Which leads you to today.

A pair of dark sunglasses hiding your eyes along with a long trench coat and hat to conceal the rest of your persona.

They were loud and jarring as you walked in, but your world had gone numb three months ago. Now you were trapped inside your own world as you stepped up three flat steps into a white, brick building.

A ghost clutching a brown clipboard only made the atmosphere even gloomier before whisking you away from the judgemental eyes and into a plainly decorated room with blue walls.

She read over the papers first then handed the clipboard to you, one more questioning look being shot your way.

You just gave a simple nod.

—-

"You have reached the voicemail box of L/n, Y/n. I can't come to the phone right now, but leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as I can!"

BEEP.

Yo sighed heavily and put his head in his hands before standing up to walk out of your completely barren bedroom.

Before he closed the door, he whispered softly,

"Why, Y/n?"

Your location on his phone showed him exactly where you were.

—-

Gotta make that move

Find somebody who

Appreciates all the love I give

Boy, I gotta

Gotta do what's best for me

Baby and that means I gotta shake you off

—--

a/n: i think this piece was a pretty strong start to the series! i'm really proud of it! stay tuned, there's plenty more bullshit to come!

*remember, if you get angry enough at your partner that you feel like wanting to put your hands on them, just walk away!

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misfitwashere · 2 months ago

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Tulsi Gabbard Holds the Knife

An Operation We Might Not Survive

TIMOTHY SNYDER

DEC 7

Gabbard appears on the world stage as a defender of a million violent deaths.

Amidst the farrago of lies that Russia used to justify its full-scale invasion invasion was the completely bogus claim that Ukraine was site of American biolabs that were testing which infections would be most harmful to Slavs (and thus Russians). This lie originates in Russia and was spread by Russian media, along with some Chinese and Syrian echo chambers, and with a setof western helpers -- one of whom was Tulsi Gabbard. She also urged, "in the spirit of Aloha," that Ukraine react to the invasion by surrendering its sovereignty to Russia. She later justified Russia's invasion of Ukraine by the notion, common in Moscow, that Russia was the victim of American attempts to overthrow Putin. She was specifically thanked by Russian state media for defending Russian war propaganda.

#timothy snyder #thinking about...

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n1ccult · 2 years ago

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Welcome to My BPD blog

Hi, my name is Nicole. I’m nineteen and I’ve been diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder for nine months, but I’ve exhibited symptoms of BPD since I was eleven or twelve. I’m starting this blog to help myself heal from BPD.

I’ve always had a strained relationship with my parents. My father wasn’t the father people saw on TV shows. My mom wasn’t perfect either, drowning her sorrows in a bottle of tequila or two 20-ounce cans of Coors Light. They always forgot I was there. Being an only child I was so alone and I started exhibiting attention-seeking behavior such as pathological lying and self-harm. The self-harm was originally for attention from those around me, but then it turned into a way to release my pain, then it turned into a way for me to feel something. I would abuse substances at very young ages and was sexually active very young. At fifteen I had even attempted to take my own life. Just to preface, I’m not judging anyone who is recovering and struggling. These are just self-destructive behaviors I took part in which made it so much worse for me.

As I got older fifteen and sixteen I would have sex with men who were often older than me to feel loved. They were pedophiles who just wanted to get laid. Even though these men just saw me as a piece of ass, I would cling to them and when they would block me I would feel so devastated I would have suicidal thoughts. Was I not good enough for these men? No, I was too good for them. I was just in such a bad place not receiving love from my family, I would try to fill the void with sex, drugs, and a new friend group every other month. I only had one friend who stuck by my side in high school until one day she blocked me on everything, because “I was too much.” I saw her as Satan after she did that. I felt like she had ruined my life. Let’s just call her Kathy. However, after that happened I was alone. Had no friendships and I realized, maybe I was the problem. On top of that the guy I was seeing called me a whore and a mistake and once again I heard the phrase “you’re too much.” It clicked and I knew I couldn’t live like that anymore. Being late in 2020 in the middle of my senior year of high school which was all online, with no job, I knew I had to pull up my big girl pants and start recovery. That recovery started with a Bipolar II diagnosis, which many people who are Borderline get. However, that was not the truth. I lived with that diagnosis for a year and a half, but it never resonated with me.

I moved from California to Montana for college which was a huge part of my recovery. Within a week I had already had my “favorite person” picked out. His name was Sam and I spent every single day of orientation week with him. End of the week we ended up hooking up, and afterward, I flipped. I would get paranoid he was going to ghost me. I would Snapchat at him saying he didn’t care about me and one day I threw his sweatshirt out the window at him from the fourth floor of my dorm. I blocked him and cried every single night. There it was, not the Bipolar disorder, but the BPD. That’s when I seriously knew I wasn’t Bipolar, but something was wrong. However, I still continued that toxic behavior. For the rest of the first semester of college, it was just a pattern of Sams. Then I went home for Christmas and there were no more Sams. I couldn’t bring myself to text any of the old hookups I had in California because I was embarrassed. I was able to go back to the job I had before I left for college and I spent my nights journaling and watching youtube videos about BPD. I reflected on my past behaviors from the past semester and I just felt embarrassed. I didn’t want to be like that anymore.

In February 2022, I deleted my own social media so things to be quiet. I figure my shit out. Being in the second semester of my first year of college I was still adjusting to the move and trying to figure out what was wrong. I had therapy once a week. I talked about my past traumas as a child, I dissected all my behaviors and started plans to help me cope with my destructive behaviors.

A year later, I’m still on my BPD healing journey. There are so many more details I left out of this, which I want to cover more as I continue this blog. I’m doing this as a way to help me heal and hopefully, it can inspire others while I go on this journey. If I even help one person from this post or blog I will feel like I have done something to help.

#bpd #bpd life #bpd fp #bpd things #borderline personality problems #borderline personality #recovery #bpd recovery #healing

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twxlxght · 2 years ago

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MOON, 24, EST; SHE/THEY. | if you’re hearing CAN'T BLAME A GIRL FOR TRYING by SABRINA CARPENTER playing, you have to know AMIRIA KELLY (SHE/THEY; CIS FEMALE) is near by! the 26 year old CASHIER AT CLOUD 9 has been in denver for, like, 2 MONTHS. they’re known to be quite UNTRUSTWORTHY, but being OPTIMISTIC seems to balance that out. or maybe it’s the fact that they resemble ERANA JAMES. personally, i’d love to know more about them seeing as how they’ve got those LONG WALKS AT NIGHT STARING AT THE STARRY SKY, ALWAYS HAVING ONE FOOT OUT THE DOOR, THE CHARMING SMILE BEHIND FAKE EYES vibes. and maybe i’ll get my chance if i hang out around the RINO DISTRICT long enough!

► BASICS;

Full Name: amiria kelly Nickname(s): ami (ah-mi) Gender: cis female Pronouns: she/they Age: 26 Birthday: june 11th Zodiac Sign: gemini Sexual/Romantic Orientation: bisexual Relationship Status: single Occupation: cashier at cloud 9 Hometown: rino district

► PHYSICAL;

Faceclaim: erana james Eye Color: brown Hair Color: blacm Height: 5'5 Weight: 120lbs Tattoos, Birthmarks, Scars, etc: various tattoos of symbols located along her arms and nose ring

► PERSONALITY;

Muse label: the paracosmist Goals/Desires: she wants to feel free and travel the world Fears: being abandoned Neuro/Psychological Conditions: pathological liar Positive Traits: Negative Traits:

► RELATIVES;

Mother: kora kelly (fc: simone kessell) Father: marcellino cook Siblings: maia kelly (fc: courtney eaton, 28) Pets: n/a

► BIOGRAPHY; murder tw, food mention tw

amiria knew what her mother wanted her to be from the moment she was born. her mother had been a con-artist and it was no secret to ami and her sister what was expected of them. and though her mother was in the trade, her father wasn't. he'd been a target of her cons with intentions of making him fall in love with her so that they would get married. and once they were married, she could take him out and take everything he owned. shortly into their marriage, kora slipped poison into his food and he'd been declared having passed due to a heart attack. what kora didn't know though, was that she'd been pregnant with amiria. it was a crucial mistake in her plan, as he'd declared in his will that everything he owned would fall to his child.

having not only been an accident but ruin her con, amiria was despised by her mother. she floated around with her sister as they would often be left alone for days maybe weeks at a time. as amiria got older, she'd finally had an understanding of what her mother did for a living. though her mother kept it secret of the things she inherited from her father. it didn't take long for amiria to discover while she hated conning, she was excellent at lying. she could put on a face so easily and a believable story would flow like breathing. it was second nature.

when maia was old enough to leave, her mother relied heavily on her to continue the cons and help her 'repay what she was owed'. she hated it, but she was good and so her mother used her until maia returned home one day. with maia asking about her father, ami, too, grew curious about her own. that's when she'd learned that her mother had killed him in an attempt to take his money. that ami had ruined her plans but she was getting back what was rightfully hers. after this revelation, ami took this time to leave with her sister. if she couldn't have a father, she at least wanted to help her sister find her own.

► WANTED CONNECTIONS;

tba

#chq;intro #chq.amiriakelly #amiria.intro

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kyrodo · 5 months ago

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On the subject of trash. In this case I mean crappy tiktoks, funny video clip montages, avatars that are used to troll or illicit laughter or wow people with explosions and invasive post processing effects, that kinda stuff isn't for me. It wasn't back then either. I prefer anime or movies over random videos. I prefer games over watching stuff, unless it's vrchat games. Then I prefer watching stuff. I prefer socializing over games.

And at the bottom of everything is low quality content. I do not have a thirst for it that ever needs to be quenched. I just never developed a taste for brainrot.

So what I'm saying is, even though I didn't enjoy how things turned out, there is a very good chance I wouldn't have enjoyed how things would be if we managed to survive that. I would never feel like I actually belong. I would always find things off-putting. There is a good chance you would always enjoy or share that type of content, while on my end of things the ridiculous roleplay and self pity shit I was doing would have been temporary. And that is a difference. A lot of the things you found uncomfortable about me was temporary. The tmi stuff, or the art I look at, that was always going to be permanent. So you could make a case there perhaps. But none of my friends know me for that. Your pathological lying and such, I mean you can't fix shitty if it's literally a personality trait.

You do you bro, not my problem anymore. I don't know how many toes you think I've been going around and stepping on, but I'm not as problematic as you are. And everyone who was ever involved in your active attempt to harass me knows it.

I will never cease to drill home the fact that I have a certain pride that cares how people think about me, how people feel about me, and I fix my mistakes. Ineffective attempts at communicating are difficult to acknowledge, so I'll keep the number of times I have to to a minimum. My capabilities are harder to question when you're not there to frustrate or confuse people with memes or read expressions of emotion through favorites that you were never meant to actually read. I'm not the most anxiety friendly person out there when you monitor every little thing I do.

In the meantime the kinda stunts you pull off aren't even in the realm of consideration for me. Not because I can't learn to but because I straight up wouldn't fucking do it. And you were worried about me? Me doing what!? You've seen everything. Me doing what? Obsess over parasocial relationships whenever I'm lonely? I don't do that shit anymore.

I could be on my worst behavior and still not put a dent in your shitty legacy. Especially Luke with his Republican like strong arming semantically butchering everything literally up until it is opportunistic for him to pretend people are things they are not to fuel hatred and villainize people in ways they don't truly represent. The very essence of predatory behavior. I'm not going to vouch for myself when my heart was on a string but you want someone who will take all the pettiest reasons to take extreme actions on people without taking the slightest bit of effort to actually understand what is going on, there's fucking Luke. Some people know when to admit they're wrong, not him. You thought I had a power fantasy back then? I've yet to see anyone since then who acts as hostile as he does.

The thing about Luke is as long as he can make someone look bad, even for but a moment, he's done his job. Those aren't the actions of someone who actually gives a shit about what they stand for. It's just a means to an end. Those are the actions of someone who doesn't want to do their fucking homework. He doesn't need a good reason to hate someone, he just needs the nearest possible excuse.

I'm not expecting royal treatment for obsessing over someone and journaling about them, but sub tweeting someone and shitting on them whenever they act on it, you did that ever since we met. Who fucking does that?

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bonappletits · 2 years ago

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i believe there was a part of me that constantly lied to myself. i know that part of me still lingers during the night. regretting the years that damaged me most won’t change the fact that it happened. but my constant reflection of those moments cause me to wonder why i ever lied to myself in the first place. why did i tell them how different things felt when they first left my life; knowing that it only felt like a good distraction when they were in it. i told them that i missed them, but i only missed the attention i got. i told them that they meant so much to me, but they only meant so much because i used them as a way to not think about him. i wasn’t given months to heal. i was barely given any days. i thought about him constantly, but they were getting in the way. a part of me knew i didn’t want that relationship with them. a part of me knew that they were never going to fulfill my wants and needs. the constant jealousy tantrums, the bickering, and the toxic verbal degradations were all avoidable if i hadn’t lied to myself. they tried hard to play a role in my life that didn’t exist in the first place, but maybe it did exist... but only for the right person. i wasted a year of my life with them. the only lesson i learned was to no longer lie to myself for someone who gave scraps of themselves to other people. i learned to not settle for someone who took their promises and littered them on the ground they walked on. the “memories” we shared were scattered like debris which had finally been swept away. there was never going to be another chance. they always came running back into an abyss. no one there to greet them in the morning or at night. no one there to give them what they always yearned for in life, which was love. from the beginning of what i call a mistake, i was pathologically lying to myself. what i felt was not love and what i experienced was not love. it was a figment of my imagination to fill a void that i lost and never got to heal from until i started being honest with myself. they will never read my narrative of the truth, but will always have a reminder of what was and will never be.

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rex101111 · 3 years ago

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people who say that Anji X Baiken is good because of the malewife/girlboss dynamic are missing the point. The appeal of those two together is the idea that two horrible people meeting each other and forming a bond can save each other and themselves rather then just make them both worse.

Make no mistake. Anji and Baiken are not traditionally “good” people. They have both done some underhanded, brutal, evil shit for petty, personal, selfish reasons without a hint of remorse. Leaving Baiken’s tragic backstory and Anji’s probably tragic one (I say probably because we have little to any actual info about this guy we can actually trust) out of it:

One of them is a brutal warrior who cuts down anyone who gets in her way without thinking about it at all and is on a path of complete self-destruction to put someone very specific in the ground no matter what collateral damage she might incur on the way and is this close to snapping all the way and just going on a indiscriminate killing spree. And the other one is a pathological liar who schemes endlessly and manipulates just about everyone he meets for his own ends and is so deceptive to the core of his being that the name most people know him by is not only fake but one out of probably hundreds of fake names he’s used over the years and he doesn’t care about the moral character of the people he works with so long as he gets what he wants out of them.

Or at least, that’s how they used to be. Because than they met each other. And than Anji just decides to hang out with Baiken, and Baiken, for whatever reason, just lets him hang around.

And, somehow, they started to change.

Baiken grew a sense of mercy, started actually stopping herself from hurting people, started the long and arduous process of reflecting on herself and what she’s doing. Anji began gaining a wider perspective, started focusing his talents into something more productive and constructive, began making actual connections with people that ran deeper then plain manipulation.

It didn’t happen over night. It took them years to change and unlearn and turn into something new. And at the core of them they are still the lone killer and lying ghost, but that’s not all they are anymore. And they have each other to thank for it.

They call each other out on their bullshit. Baiken sees through Anji’s lies without even trying, forces him to at least try and be honest and truthful about what he’s doing and what he’s thinking. Anji stands his ground against Baiken’s anger, forces her to find another way to get through to him, to actually communicate with him in a way that doesn’t involve violence.

They were two broken, wounded people, completely unable to help themselves. And than they met someone that they, somehow, made a connection with, that they wanted to help. And through helping each other, they also help themselves. As one grows so does the other, until finally Anji puts his all into saving the world by bringing a truth to light, while Baiken faces a mirror of who she was and both teaches and learns to let go.

And that’s the goddamned appeal of Anbai.

....although, if I’m being honest with myself, the malewife/girlboss dynamic is a very nice bonus.

#guilty gear #Anji Mito #Baiken #meta #yes im calling this rambling post a meta sue me #i wrote a thing for Anji to put a few ideas on paper #and it involved him being fucked up and that made me think #oh dear god they helped each other grow as people oh my GOD #and here you are

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deateath · 3 years ago

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Ykno what I’m thinking about on this fine day? Sanji. Who is surprised. BUT I was rereading this post by @demonzoro and got to thinking specifically about the “started smoking to make himself seem more mature” thing and how pretending (or being forced by circumstance) to be mature as a child can lead to emotional underdevelopment as an adult.

As an oldest sibling and a former Little Girl with Undiagnosed ADHD™, I was always told I was mature for my age, talked well with adults, was very responsible and self-sufficient, etc. I was by no means forced to be like this, but I understood this was praised behavior so I kept up with it and now look at me lol. So I find myself coming across this problem of emotional maturity occasionally. Emotional maturity is influenced by both your adult mentors and younger peers. And who out of the crew had older siblings, other children as friends, or actual adult figures around who loved them? Most everyone EXCEPT Sanji and Usopp, whose mothers died when they were very young and had almost no other children their age in their life.

BUT TIME OUT: by this logic, am I saying that Luffy is emotionally mature? I guess I am. He’s a goofball and impulsive, sure, but he is the one to bring so many people to these significant moments that realize emotional maturity. He makes Nami ask for help in Arlong Park. He makes Robin say she wants to live. He helps Chopper realize he’s not a monster, and to take a step towards achieving his dream by coming with them. He makes Sanji say what he truly wants and ask for help in Whole Cake AND yells at him at the Baratie (which I mentioned here talking about Sanji’s martyrdom). Not to mention the countless side characters who are inspired by him. OKAY TIME IN.

We clearly see Usopp’s emotional immaturity with his pathological lying and inability to take full responsibility for his mistakes. Though, he wasn’t necessarily robbed of a childhood, he didn’t have figures in his life to teach him about becoming an adult, and his childhood is extended when he didn’t want it to be. He’s not fooling himself, he knows he’s a chicken. And his dream is to become a brave warrior! Usopp’s dream is to leave behind his primary hallmark of emotional immaturity.

Sanji, on the other hand, thinks he’s the epitome of sophisticated manhood, but he is clinging to a childhood he never got to have. We see it when he talks about the All Blue and the way he treats women. Sanji’s dream is to find this fairytale place. And unlike Usopp who as a child lacked adult figures and had plenty of (younger, granted) kids on the island, Sanji lacked other children to be around. His siblings were not normal children, and he spent the whole rest of his youth with grown-ass pirates. To fit in and survive, he had to act mature. But he never learns true maturity. Everything Sanji does is him mimicking how he thinks mature people behave. But he hasn’t learned boundary setting, he hasn’t learned to ask for help, he hasn’t learned to be vulnerable.

(((Also I know Robin had to be mature at a young age as well, but she is 8 years older than the east blue crew so we don’t see her moments of emotional immaturity in the canon storyline. In fact she is likely regarded as the most mature before Jinbe joins. Though one could argue water 7/enies lobby is a demonstration of emotional immaturity from Robin, I think it’s specifically trauma-informed due to the whole Devil Child thing bringing ruin to everyone she ever met until that point. Also Spandam is there and his connection to Ohara/threat of buster call is a bfd. Fic ideas for Robin in her late teens/early twenties struggling with emotions anyone…?)))

————————

Anyway. There’s a point in here somewhere. Sanji is prepared to spend his entire adult life to find this childish fantasy. It could be said that both Usopp and Sanji’s dreams are to obtain what they never had. But the key difference is Usopp is searching for emotional maturity, bravery, because he knows he needs it. Sanji is searching for the childhood he never got and he doesn’t realize he’s missing it.

#^^^how I feel every time I think of baby Sanji #one piece #one piece meta #Sanji #pre ts scrawny sanji supremacy #usopp #kuroashi no sanji #black foot sanji #god usopp #am I projecting onto Sanji? always #is it too much? probably #am I satisfied with this post? not quite but the addy is wearing off so I’m running outta juice #life stuff tag

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1eos · 3 years ago

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I remember how my aunt was whining EVERY DAY about how disrespectful my 11 year old cousin was to everyone. Her grades wasn't good and she fought her classmates. I always considered my aunt as a very nice person and my cousin was also such a gem when I "babysat" her so it was truly a conflicting situation and nobody knew what was wrong. Until my mom and I witnessed my aunt screaming very violently at my cousin about a math problem... calling her dumb and going very closely to her face while gesturing violently at her book. The sight was gut wrenching. My mom had almost a fist fight with my aunt right there and my cousin lived with us for a while before deciding to live with her father. The worst thing is that my aunt still to this day doesn't know what she did wrong, she is still whining all the time about how she was just tired and that everyone overreacted and she deserved to see the child she has birthed and fed for all these years (like she was burden)... I am sorry but from now I am looking suspiciously at every parent who whine nonstop about their children

omg :( your poor cousin. thank god y'all saw that nd she was able to live somewhere else, but that's exactly what i mean. im just some regular smegular bitch nd i truly have yet to meet a child with grade problems and/or behavioral issues that was not the result of some deeper issue. i just haven't!! like yes your child is going to hate school nd act out when instead of HELPING them understand something you yell at them nd insult their intelligence. like being cruel to children.....negatively affects them nd every aspect of their lives is that so hard to understand????? i remember when i was younger i would get in trouble for lying to my mom abt things i forgot to do or shit i lost (bc adhd out of side out of mind lmao i lost so many jackets) BECAUSE she would blow up at me and give me the silent treatment for hours so i was fucking terrified of admitting i made a mistake. i wasn't a 12 year old pathological liar i was reacting to my parents unregulated anger like it blows my mind that parents can live their entire lives thinking they did nothing wrong!!!!!

#i don't hate kids i hate parents LMAO

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etherealxgenie · 4 years ago

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Why Lila is Marinette’s Own Fault || Miraculous Why?

(Before I begin, note that this is my opinion over the topic and am no way am bashing anyone’s love for the ship and/or character. I respect who and what you like, therefore expect the same courtesy. However, if this is something you cannot handle, please click the back button as this will be a heavily discussed topic. No flames allowed. Other than that, enjoy.)

So usually in the story, there’s always one or two mean girls who is out to get the main character for some kind of superior reasons to justify. And there’s no reason as to why they act this way just for the sake of being mean.

Like the Ashleys from “Recess”, who tend to pick on kids just for the fun of it sometimes or cause they’re popular.

Same can go for Libby from “Sabrina The Teenage Witch” who was out to get something for what she wants or just to be superior to the other kids in school.

For Miraculous, we already have that kind of character, Chloe Bourgeois, who is the daddy’s girl of the Mayor to get what she wants. And until we had some small character development in season two (which season 3 took it away!!), we had no reason feeling sorry for her and she was just for the convenient plot in the social life for Marinette in the series.

And then… there’s Lila.

Before I get into hand in this, let me note that Lila is not a good person at all in the show. She’s a liar, a manipulator and will do whatever she can to get what she wants. She breaks into homes, steals and molests pretty models. She’s been pretty shown to be just selfish without consequences and unless we get a background story of why she acts this way, she has no excuse. Especially when she teams up with hawkdaddy to now have permission to invade and spy on Adrien whenever she wants? Fuck that.

So in Volpina, Lila is introduced as this pathological liar to get attention in season one. She obviously goes for Adrien cause he’s the famous model after all. Reasonable considering as the new person looking for attention, you seek out the most popular/famous person in the school. That would Adrien.

Though considering with her connections, it would’ve been smarter to try and impress Marinette instead if Lila did her research before she came into the scene. But of course, new person so she wouldn’t know, but whatever.

And we can see Lila easily just says things just to get Adrien’s approval and such.

And so, Marinette follows them around (stalking? really?) because Tikki points out Lila has the book Adrien took from his father’s vault and threw it in the trash.

Now the SMART thing to do would’ve been to see how Adrien would handle the situation and wait for him to leave, if to acknowledge Adrien has a mind of his own and knows when to walk away (which he does). Or at the very least, try to distract them as Marinette while Tikki retrieved the book.

But… no. You transform into Ladybug to lash out at a girl PUBLICALLY, for anyone including Adrien to hear, just to embarrass her and call her out on her lying because she… “hates liars”.

Marinette, you fucking lie ALL the time! Most of those times to Adrien! And I’m not just talking about when in regard to being Ladybug, you hypocritical- (groans)

I can list plenty of episodes: Gamer, Aninmaestro, Ikari Gozen and hell, even Reverser counts! If she hadn’t lied about Marc’s book, Nathaniel wouldn’t have torn it! (sighs)

And before you all start jumping at me saying Lila got what she deserves, I only agree partially. Ladybug, as a public figure and heroine, practically the face of Paris, acted irrationally lashing out at a bystander because of lies which were or were not believable. Lila was broadcasting a post or making the news, she was trying (poorly) to impress a boy. Ladybug gave Lila the Regina George treatment.

Yeah, so you caused an akumatized situation and Lila hates your guts. Hell, I would hate you too. That’s like a celebrity jumping at an innocent bystander when they’re whispering to their friend about a rumor that only the two of them were talking about. You can’t jump to try and stop them and should just let it dispel on its own. At that point, Lila had no real power but you just influenced her.

And… oh boy did things get worse because of this.

Look season 3 was trash (except for moments in certain episodes) and I feel talking about the infamous ‘Chameleon’ physically hurts me but… yeah gotta point out a few things. The whole episode was unrealistic, and it was an obvious ploy to be sympathetic to Marinette with Lila back… but… you’re not fooling me.

So, Lila is still on her lying game, being able to fool the students and the staff?! Okay if you believe a student has so many disabilities without any paperwork proof, you can actually get fired for that for fraud. As someone who worked with education before, that’s just pure incompetence.

So yeah, Marinette comes to school seeing the seats changes to accommodate Lila and upright begins to plot to discredit her for her lies. UM… what happened to trying to start over with Lila after failing to do so the first time?

Oh, that’s right. She gets that way (at least partly) because Lila is sitting next to Adrien. I can understand if it was because they rearranged the seating without her say so but let’s face it. Lila sitting next to Adrien was her real trigger.

So since Marinette failed to acknowledge her mistake the first time, she spends all day trying to prove Lila is lying and in return the class is angry at her. Alya even comes to point out that Marinette is jealous of Lila.

And you know what? Alya is right.

Alya knows at least what Marinette is capable of doing so when it comes to Adrien and how far she’s willing to go. Remember that Alya is the one who encouraged her to break into his locker and steal his phone. So of course, she’s worried Marinette is gonna do something to the new girl.

I don’t blame Alya for doing one of the most competent things in the show: Warning Marinette to NOT go off the handle without proof and not make herself look bad in the process.

And because Marinette failed to do so… she made Lila her enemy AGAIN. It was bad enough you had her as your enemy as Ladybug, but now you get to deal with twice the drama!

Your own fucking fault, Marinette.

Also, the advice Adrien gave? I don’t blame for him for it and neither should you. Yes, his advice is not perfect, but with the options he has on his plate, its hard to do something otherwise.

For every encounter Adrien has had with Lila, it ended up with her being akumatized or a disaster no matter how he tried to handle her. We didn’t get to see how he would resolve in Volpina because of Ladybug’s intervention, but he would try at least in Chameleon and try to get her to see she didn’t need to lie and actually tried to befriend her. At this point, Lila was already triggered by Ladybug and Marinette so she just might have to take Adrien by force instead.

At that point, Adrien just wants to stay away and which he was trying to tell Marinette don’t interact with Lila or confront her cause there’s no way to do so at this point. Maybe he was trying to tell her to wait until her rumors got discredited, but he didn’t say it clear enough for her to understand.

And keep in mind, Adrien is a sheltered child with little to zero social skills taught to him by Nathalie and Gabriel. Hell, we don’t know how his childhood was really like even with Emelie around either and Adrien seems more like the pacifist unless he needs to absolutely step in. And he did by cleaning up Marinette’s mess in ‘Ladybug’. So now he’s gotta suffer being around Lila more because of Marinette making Lila her enemy.

But once again, this is bad writing as the writers of the show obviously forgot what it’s like to live in reality. In the real world, Lila would be immediately discredited without any proof the moment she came back. Not to mention, some of the class have their own connections and have more braincells proven in the previous episodes. Google search and such. A 5-year-old wouldn’t believe these lies in these times. Hey, I believe that because I once had a kid in kindergarten during my time as an afterschool art teacher look at one of my books I illustrated before and said they liked the ‘graphics’.

Kids are fucking smarter nowadays than you think.

The only reason anyone would believe Lila’s lies is if she’s magically influenced with some kind of ‘silver tongue’ spell or something and honestly? It looks like that’s the reason.

I dunno if Thomas Astruc or Zag is trying to insult the kids/adults or insult themselves to say Paris people aren’t that smart. If it’s the latter, you should see what you are doing because I don’t want to believe that because that’s disrespectful.

I know it seems I’m trying to stand up for Lila this portion, but I’m just looking things in a more realistic and logical way. Did Lila take things too far? Yes, waaaayyy too far and should be arrested for it since she works for Hawkmoth. But it could’ve been handled better and that makes Marinette at fault too.

Part of me wonders if she’s done this before because in Zombiezou, she also causes Chloe to ruin her gift for Ms. bustier. If Marinette didn’t antagonize Chloe in the locker in front of the class, maybe she wouldn’t have done anything. Again, I’m not saying Chloe was justified, but if that was the reason, yeah I can see her doing it for payback.

So to all those fics where I’m supposed to be ‘Boo-hoo’ for Marinette because of what Lila did? Fuck you guys because you need to dig deeper into the story to see both sides and not just make it a pity party where Marinette is the innocent victim.

It’s called “Cause and Effect”.

And considering she made Lila her enemy, Marinette is gonna get effected enough because that’s how karma works.

#ooc #the artist speaks #the artist opinion #miraculous ladybug #marinette salt #adrien sugar #alya sugar #lila salt #mainly facts really #but there is some parts where i'm salty #so be warned #tw: cursing #constructive critism welcome #flames will be deleted #i know the difference folks

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humanwheatleyslefttoenail · 4 years ago

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Now I Am An Arsonist

Chapter 1: The Spark

Summary: GLaDOS learns a few things about love, hate, and the human condition.

Tags: Canon typical violence, ChellDOS, human!GLaDOS, found family

A/N: I know technically I published this a while back but I did some major edits to both the chapters I’ve already written and the story as a whole. As promised, I’m re-releasing what I already have with the edits/illustrations.

---

The tests, at least, hadn’t changed.

The centuries had washed over them like a dawdling stream, dragging them down into an overgrown abyss. Even then, the moon dust had stayed firmly adhered to the portal surfaces, the metal doors still creaking and the ceiling still intact. Eons of rain had barely even permeated its surface.

She remembered those years with profound regret; dying was not as peaceful as the science would suggest. For a machine like Her, death was nothing more than a shift of programming, a new prerogative. Her backup program had been an endless recall, restarting Her systems over and over again, trying to salvage something. In each of those moments, GLaDOS could feel the scorching heat from the incinerator, the electricity burning through her body before everything went dark.

Still, without dying, GLaDOS never would’ve fully appreciated how soothing, how wonderful it was to test.

She remembered the urge to solve, to do Science, clawing within Her even as She broke into a thousand pieces.

Those tests were Her art forms, Her self-expression. Every arrangement of deadly turrets, each layout of gleaming lasers and the perfectly calculated solution felt like a piece of Her soul turned reality.

Now, those tests were better than ever.

Every inch of moss had been thoroughly scrubbed, walls repaired, and acid pits replaced. All except for the grave of Old Aperture beneath Her was now newly outfitted, perfect for the humans P-Body and Atlas had located.

These, of course, hadn’t been the first ones they’d found.

The first batch of humans lasted a measly week, quickly killed by some of Her easiest tests. Even with reminders, the acid is deadly, the turrets are live, they’d failed within a few chambers.

Disappointing.

As a result, Atlas and P-Body had been deployed on a new mission. She’d been overjoyed when they’d bravely traveled all the way to the bottom of Old Aperture, and found even more humans preserved in cryosleep.

This time would surely be better.

All obstacles finally removed, science could continue.

GLaDOS could not smile, but if She could, She was certain that a grin would reach across her faceplate.

Today was a momentous day for technology, for the advancement of Aperture Science. It was as if She’d sent a man to the moon, and he’d come back with the theory of everything.

Originally, of course, Her plans had been different. The difficulties with Chell had worn down Her admiration for human data, and prompted her to come up with a replacement.

The Cooperative Testing initiative was infinitely more of a success than GLaDOS ever thought it would be. Atlas and P-Body were built to test, but She had still been surprised how those little androids with so much personality had managed to be so efficient.

Atlas and P-Body had overcome their own confidence through their excellent teamwork. The knowledge that they depended on a partner humbled them, and the idea of a common goal incentivized them. GLaDOS wished She’d thought of such an idea sooner.

Still, there was something about human testing, something She couldn’t quantify, something that wasn’t quite the same with robots. Humans had a particular spark, and without it, testing never felt complete.

Today would finally be the day She could put all mistakes behind Her. GLaDOS was sure She’d see that all of the other humans would prove Her experience with Chell to be exactly what She knew it was.

Bad science.

GLaDOS had learned from Her errors.

She knew for certain that She would not repeat them.

---

It’d been extraordinarily difficult to move the test subjects from Old Aperture all the way to the newly renovated Relaxation Center, with entire teams of robots struggling to reconnect Her control over the condemned area. Their work easily took a week to complete as they rewired the dilapidated circuits, barely restoring function. GLaDOS took what She could get, and rewarded their achievement with immediate, merciful destruction.

When the humans had been successfully relocated, anxiety filled Her servos as She scanned the cryo-chambers. Upon reading the results, She found herself pleasantly surprised. Good physical condition for hundreds of years in stasis. Relatively low rates of severe brain damage. Nothing particularly concerning in their associate files. Had Her comprehension not been perfect, She would’ve done a double take. After all this time, She had something that She could work with.

Atlas and P-Body would have to wait until they were needed again, their consciousness safely stored in Her mainframe. Her processors hummed with excitement as She prepared for the awakening of the first humans, buzzing with hypotheses to test.

What would be Her experiment this time? GLaDOS scrolled through Her endless lists of deadly trials.

She hadn’t used rocket turrets in a while; those weren’t as efficient as the regular ones but were always a surprise for Her unwilling participants. With only a thought, She placed the machines inside a few chambers, lining them up in a neat, strategically placed array. Companion cubes would be a definite no, at least for the first few tests. There were occasions when the humans became so deprived for social connection that their behavior would influence the results. In order to better control the experiment, She’d deploy them only in emergencies like these.

With those exceptions, and the addition of a floor to some of the more difficult levels, the chambers didn’t require too much preparation. GLaDOS had nothing particularly new to add; for so long Her energy had been focused on Atlas and P-Body that development had nearly come to a standstill. Regrettably, She’d been deprived of ideas. It didn’t matter too much; the facility remained operational even if it wasn’t constantly progressing. Even the replication of old results was invaluable for science.

It confirmed that the trends hadn’t changed.

---

The files of the subjects were all very much the same.

Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Scientist. Praying mantis, formerly scientist.

Occasionally, She’d find the elusive Astronaut, War Hero or even Olympian.

She was tempted to begin the testing with these special cases, curiosity piqued at the prospect of their odd results. GLaDOS chastised Herself. She didn’t want to skew anything, and She would surely begin with a normal subject chosen at random. It wasn’t the most interesting thing to test, but it would be the most informative.

With the chambers compiled and the facility clean, testing was finally ready to start.

She almost couldn’t believe it. All technicalities aside, She was finally, finally, getting exactly what She wanted. For as long as She needed to, for as long as the subjects lasted, She could just test.

It couldn’t be real, could it?

That was the most beautiful thing about science. For all its disappointments, a discovery would be worth it all.

---

“Hello, and welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided testing program.”

Her voice resounded throughout the Extended Relaxation Vault as the subject stumbled across the room in disbelief.

“The Enrichment Center would like to take this opportunity to remind you that hundreds of years have passed, and that all of your friends and family are most likely dead. In the off chance that your friends and family are not dead, they will be tested. Thank you, [insert subject name here], for your unwilling voluntary participation in the advancement of science.”

The subject, an adult human male, selfishly resolved to huddle in the corner of the relaxation chamber. Of course, he was either brain damaged, in shock, or both. In order to assuage his gentle human feelings, GLaDOS would have to resume Her telling of… alternative truths.

GLaDOS wasn’t entirely sure what She’d said wrong. Honestly, She was surprised the subject didn’t appreciate Her integrity. After all, Chell hadn’t exactly taken kindly to Her tendency towards pathological lying. Here She was, trying to improve the well-being of Her subjects, and this was how they thanked Her?

“Hello, again, valued forced participant. The Aperture Science Enrichment Center commends you for your blind faith in the words of authority. As part of routine testing protocol, we have lied to you about the fate of your family and friends. When the testing is complete, you will receive cake and the opportunity to… see them. Your response has given us valuable psychological data on the well-being of our test subjects when told that all of their friends and family are dead.”

GLaDOS paused for a moment, focusing Her camera in the chamber and watching as the man lifted his head from his upright fetal position.

“Good. You’ve already passed one of the first stages of testing. Congratulations, [insert subject name here].”

As much as it felt wrong to use, positive reinforcement was highly effective when employed sparingly. Too many attacks on character could obliterate a subject’s morale. Just enough would account for the variable of human hubris.

Cautiously, the subject stood up and examined the room around him, fear still apparent in his apprehensive gait and wide eyes.

“In order to mentally reinvigorate you for the tests and to ensure your aptitude, the Enrichment Center recommends that you stare at the painting on the wall in front of you.”

Creeping over to the portrait, the subject followed Her orders and stared intently at the picture of Mount Rainier. He ran his fingers over the edge of the frame, tracing the tall peak of the mountain.

Interrupting his thoughts, a buzzer sounded, blaring throughout the entire room. The subject flinched from the surprise, nearly losing his balance.

“Good job. If you are not reinvigorated, consider this piece of human music.”

This time, the human expected the buzzer after the quick classical piece, seemingly more at ease with the abrupt nature of Aperture Science. In all reactions, he was completely, almost painfully average.

“Well done. You have completed the Aperture Science mental reinvigoration procedure. We may now begin testing.”

Without warning, the chamber jerked to the side as She moved it to a nearby docking station, then coming to an unexpected standstill as the door automatically opened.

GLaDOS could barely maintain Her monotonous affect, in joyous denial that testing would finally start.

Carefully, the human stepped out of the door into the test track. The door slammed behind him, as he examined the purely white room with nothing but a cube, a large button, and a locked gateway.

Almost immediately, he wrapped the blue storage cube in his arms, then gently placed it on the button. A line of blue lights leading to the gate illuminated, flashing a bright yellow as the door slid open. A lift was waiting on the other side.

As he sauntered over to the lift, it was difficult to miss the human’s triumphant smile. GLaDOS knew the expression well; it was satisfaction, victory, an unproven sense of control.

He really does have no idea.

She was tempted to spoil the ending, to mention turrets, to mention pools of burning acid. It had to wait, She reminded herself. An important control was that the test subject needed time to acclimate to a dangerous environment. Creating unnecessary fear would definitely affect her numbers.

---

The next few puzzles weren’t particularly challenging for Her first subject. Completed within a span of about ten minutes each, the first five chambers were hardly difficult for anyone. That much She’d expected.

On Her end, everything else was normal. She hardly spoke Her mind, instead opting to repeat the same script She used for every subject.

Did you know you can donate one or all of your vital organs to the Aperture Science Self-Esteem Fund for Girls? It’s true!

You have completed the test in a moderate amount of time. You can do better, [insert subject name here].

The Aperture Science Enrichment Center reminds you that we prioritize your safety. We also prioritize science. In fact, we prioritize science more, but if you feel unsafe in our unsafe conditions, please notify a testing associate. They will process your complaint in three-to-five business days.

Like most subjects, the man had not volunteered to give up his organs nor asked for an associate. Instead, he responded to most of Her passive-aggressive quips with useless questions. She did not reply, passing them off as typical human blabbering. Rather, She recorded them in his file underneath a new section She labeled Overly-Talkative: Examples. There was plenty to jot down.

Uh, robot lady? When can I go home?

So, uh, what kinda cake is it? Like, I don’t really mind the flavor but I’m allergic to almonds if that’s relevant.

How long does this last, again?

I kinda like my organs, sorry. Wait, is the organ thing required?

Once again, pitifully average.

It was times like these, whether with humans or with Atlas and P-Body, that GLaDOS caught Her mind wandering towards forbidden thoughts. Science was not always supposed to be exciting; sometimes, running an experiment meant repeating the same process to verify the data. The result was satisfying, but the process was more often not.

This human epitomized the dullest parts of her day.

As informative as the humans could be, they were often far from entertaining. Every behavior could be predicted and rationalized once it’d been observed enough.

Chell, though?

Oh, sure, GLaDOS was terrified of her, no matter how much She’d deny the feeling. No subject had ever left the track before.

But Chell didn’t just survive. She’d escaped from the tests, she’d found Her chamber, she’d murdered Her with little else than a portal device. Twice.

Her ego was as vast as the realm of Aperture, but it would never recover from that spectacular injury. Even GLaDOS had to be humbled by that.

And yet, with morbid curiosity, She had eagerly anticipated Chell’s next plans, laying traps in scheming delight. For the first time in Her life, She’d been challenged.

It was an odd little game they’d played, and whenever She was close to getting the upper hand, a part of Her was disappointed that the chase would be over. There was something delightful about watching the peculiar way that Chell and Chell alone tested.

When Doug Rattman had switched Chell’s file, GLaDOS was not so oblivious as not to notice. She’d clearly read the bottom of the paper, firmly requesting that this subject not be tested. GLaDOS had other tenacious subjects before, and She’d simply assumed that this human was particularly overconfident. Those ones never lasted too long.

Chell was not, as She’d thought, only determined.

She was curious, changing variables one by one until she finally found the answer. Her patience was remarkable, but so were her deductive skills. Some test subjects with similar tenacity levels resolved to try the same solutions over and over again, exhausting themselves and eventually burning out. It was the reason why GLaDOS typically ignored the warnings. Most humans labeled ‘tenacious’ weren’t too different in the end. The key for Chell was not simple defiance. Chell could control herself. That’s why she was such an outlier.

She had the mentality of a scientist.

Most subjects were cautious, prioritizing self-preservation over a solution. Turret levels could be aggravating for GLaDOS to watch, as the humans spent more time hiding behind a corner in fear than actually solving the test. They would be safe if they’d just strategized, but the human mind made accepting that fact a difficult feat.

Chell was the opposite. GLaDOS theorized that perhaps, Chell understood the same principle She did. Chell was scared like any other, but despite her pounding heart and racing thoughts, she’d kept her cool. Any new element was only a matter of adaptation for Chell, and Chell was always evolving.

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, Chell was an optimist, often performing pointless tasks that could only be described as trying to have fun. GLaDOS gave her lemons, and Chell made lemonade.

Chell would smile as she soared, launched from the aerial faith plates, and took her time to explore the little rooms hidden in the corners of the tests. There was one time she’d put off the completion of one puzzle by nearly an hour, hiding out in one of Doug’s rat dens, fascinated by all the little cups and cans he’d arranged.

It would be a lie to say that Chell liked testing. Her episodes made it clear that escape was Chell’s first priority. That didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the small glimmers of hope GLaDOS gave her, whether that was bouncing on repulsion gel, saving a defective turret or smuggling a companion cube.

After Wheatley took over, one of the more terrifying aspects of the whole journey was being stuck on Chell’s gun. Chell was a risk taker, building her strategy off of previous attempts and lessons learned, but knowing when to dive into the unknown. It wasn’t exactly comforting to be strapped to her side, not knowing if or when one of Chell’s ideas would kill them both.

Somehow, though, her spontaneity had worked.

GLaDOS could respect that… creativity.

It was for this reason that even though GLaDOS now had everything She’d ever wanted, something deep in her hard drive felt empty.

Something had changed the moment Wheatley stuffed Her into that single-volt potato. For the first time in Her life, there was nobody else there in Her mind. No one but Caroline, who had been buried underneath layers of code until She was barely there at all.

It was over the span of those fifteen hours that She’d seen Chell from a different perspective. Looking at Her tests from this angle, it was much easier to see why Chell wanted to leave. Some small piece of GLaDOS almost felt bad upon realizing that Her subjects didn’t enjoy dodging bullets nearly as much as She liked watching.

Fortunately, GLaDOS had been able to shove that down with the arrival of a different, equally unpleasant emotion.

She was supposed to hate Chell. And for a very long time, She had. How dare Chell ruin Her perfect tests, Her perfect existence, Her perfect world? What had She ever done to her to warrant such a cruel punishment?

And yet, it seemed Caroline had done a number on GLaDOS’ logic processors, because now no matter how She tried, She could not hate Chell.

Before She’d let her go, let Chell go of all things, GLaDOS had called Chell Her best friend.

Not an enemy. Not a begrudging ally. A friend. Her only friend.

Now, Caroline was gone. The part of GLaDOS that had once looked at Chell and found something beautiful in her icy gray eyes was corrupted beyond repair, erased from memory.

She was not supposed to feel its presence any longer, yet still it lingered.

It was there, whispering to Her as She tried to test like nothing ever happened.

It was there when a thousand turrets sang the opera She’d written specifically for Chell.

It was there when She’d found Her baby birds, Her little killing machines, and She hadn’t crushed the eggs. No, She’d raised them. Because, deep down in those cold avian stares, there was this irrevocable quality that reminded Her so much of Chell. This spark of life, this undamnable will to survive.

Somewhere, though She refused to ever admit it, She wished that it was Chell in those test chambers. She wished it was Chell glaring through Her camera feed, and She wished it was Chell searching for that elusive cake.

I’d make you the cake if you came back. Really, I would.

The sudden thought moved like a spark in GLaDOS, as She fearfully located the source and removed whatever She could. There was no time for ideas like that, not with science to be done.

The past few months had been full of random deletions, spurned by paranoia that Caroline’s base program was not entirely gone.

It’s not here anymore, GLaDOS reminded Herself. Once, She had been Caroline, but She was no longer the kindly woman who followed Cave Johnson’s every order. GLaDOS was a machine that felt nothing and lived only to test. And because She was immortal, and because She was perfect, GLaDOS was not supposed to care about some disobedient human being.

You do not care about Chell anymore.

You don’t care because she killed you, remember that?

You don’t care about anyone, because you don’t need to.

Necessity was the core reason why GLaDOS did anything. She tested because the mainframe made Her feel awful until She did, and She killed because it was what she was made to do. She did science because it needed to be advanced, for the brighter future She was sure She was making.

It made no sense to do something because She wanted to.

Of course, things seldom made sense here at Aperture Science, and in this moment, GLaDOS did something unconscionable.

GLaDOS did not glitch often. She’d made sure to update and replace faulty parts whenever She could, keeping Her mainframe running smoothly. Even so, somewhere deep within Her, She was sure there was a pulse that misfired. There could be no other explanation.

Perhaps it was Her rumination over Chell that brought this upon Her, some kind of karma punishing Her for acting too human. Why else would She have done something so incredibly unscientific? To distract Herself, GLaDOS turned her attention back to the captive man.

Like many others before him, this test subject had underestimated the turrets’ range. He hadn’t turned around fast enough to see the gleaming, bullet filled machines behind him, and nearly flew directly into their line of sight after careening through a portal. His momentum would take him past all three, riddling him with bullets.

That is, it would’ve.

The human quality of the subject had activated some kind of horrible reflex, a split second decision in GLaDOS She would come to regret. The way he walked through the chambers, the way he clung tightly to cubes… all of it was so similar to Chell. Even if he didn’t meet her performance level, even if his personality was nearly the opposite of Chell’s, their shared humanity was enough to remind GLaDOS. That same emotion She felt when pulling Chell back from space, waiting for her to open her eyes while Atlas and P-Body looked on… For some inconceivable reason, it had reappeared.

Quickly, the subject hit the side of a rising panel, suddenly pulled up in front of the turrets by none other than GLaDOS Herself.

This would surely ruin Her numbers.

As the participant rubbed his head in pain and slowly stood up, immediately noticing the turrets he’d evaded, GLaDOS’ voice resounded from the intercom.

“[Insert subject name here], your decent performance has warranted the use of an Aperture Science Emergency Life-Saving Instantaneous Response. This is the only safety gesture that will be provided. Continue testing.”

Another lie.

It was good to know that function was still online.

---

That uncharacteristic moment of empathy had been pointless, anyway. Just as She’d predicted, he’d accidentally tripped over a ledge and landed himself into a puddle of acidic goo, dissolving within a few short seconds.

It didn’t matter. GLaDOS had more subjects than She could count. She didn’t need this human, and the tests didn’t need him either.

Some part of Her, a piece which was faulty and insignificant, disagreed with the notion.

You killed him, it whispered accusingly.

That’s the point, GLaDOS hissed back, once again delving into Her files to cut out whatever was causing the issue.

Trying to calm Herself, GLaDOS reminded Herself of the facts. She was in control of Her facility, and She was in control of Her mainframe. Little errors could not ruin the chambers, and if they ever showed up, She had the power to crush them.

Everything was fine, She thought.

Everything would continue to be fine.

All She needed to do was keep testing.

---

Everything was, in fact, far from fine.

A few days had passed, and GLaDOS was finally ready to admit that maybe something was wrong.

At first, the issue was Her own. Little surges of emotion and bursts of unforeseen empathy plagued Her but didn’t affect the facility at large. Begrudgingly, She’d factored in the new bias into Her results. From Her calculations, She could already see an egregiously high percentage of error. This study could’ve been Her worst one yet, and even that was with generous rounding.

Still, She had hope for each subject that She wouldn’t mess up this time.

The facility had other ideas. Cameras would fizzle out, emancipation grills would stop working, cube dispensers malfunctioned and even the elevators would refuse to move. It seemed that the moment GLaDOS got around to fixing something, another thing would fall apart.

Many of the subjects had become confused as to why this seamless, futuristic facility was suddenly malfunctioning, and She’d had to become increasingly creative with Her excuses.

As part of the Aperture Science testing protocol, we have simulated faulty equipment in the testing environment to see how subjects react to faulty equipment in the testing environment. Hint – they typically react well and continue testing. Like you will.

The lifesaving, and the reflexive empathy, had become unfortunately common as well.

Although the Enrichment Center previously told you that your life could only be saved once, we regret to inform you that protocol has suddenly and permanently changed. We would also like to remind you that your measly existence is still not valued despite our attempts to preserve it.

GLaDOS knew She had to find a solution, quickly.

Interrupting the tests wasn’t an option. The chassis would never forgive Her if She stopped, filling Her body with an ache that would not disappear until science resumed.

Deleting wasn’t an option, either. Fervent attempts to find the source of the problem had led only to more glitches upon the erasure of critical files. Then, Her attempts to restore them only recreated the original error.

The problem was like a moving virus, jumping between Her systems before She could catch it and kill it. Even for Her, it proved too fast to find.

She couldn’t panic, not now. Surely, She thought, She’d fix this like She’d fixed everything else. With science on Her side, most threats resolved themselves or died trying. This wouldn’t be any different.

It couldn’t be any different. For something to be uncontrollable, and uncontrollable for Her especially, was the most terrifying thing She could possibly imagine. It brought Her back to Her potato days, during which She’d promised Herself that She would never be weak again.

For these few months, She’d kept that promise. Until now, no subject had seen Her mercy.

But had they?

She thought back to the birds, creatures who trusted GLaDOS, who loved Her in whatever capacity three little crows could. She thought back to Chell, because for some awful reason, Her thoughts always went back to Chell.

No, She thought firmly.

We are not doing this now.

We are fixing the facility, because we need to.

Because we need testing. We like testing.

The voice from before suddenly returned.

Do you like it? Do you really?

GLaDOS felt Her rage processors fire up.

What was this little virus even saying? Of course She liked it. It didn’t matter anyway. Science had to be done, and so She was doing it. GLaDOS could not even begin to imagine life without tests, life without science. What kind of meaningless, awful existence would that even be?

In fact, She would prove to the voice that science would continue. She would prove that testing was productive, that everything in Aperture was doing good for the world and good for humanity. Most importantly, it was doing good for Her.

Wasn’t it?

GLaDOS ignored Her curiosity. Just test. That was all She had to do. Just test, and everything would be alright.

Just. Test.

---

As another few days passed, the facility had become almost unusable. She’d had to shut down some of Her favorite testing tracks, the power leached out of them and the appliances completely nonfunctional. GLaDOS knew She was running out of time before something drastic happened. Still, She had to keep testing.

Now, even the subjects had begun to sense Her panic. One even strolled up to a camera, made eye contact, and asked if She was alright. GLaDOS didn’t dare respond the question; She wasn’t ready to admit the answer.

For all intents and purposes, She was definitely, absolutely, decidedly not alright.

Knowing that, She should’ve considered this next subject an omen.

There was absolutely no way She could test with this one.

She barely looked like Chell, but GLaDOS could see her tenacity, her drive and determination from a mile away. The way the subject carried herself, tied her hair into a ponytail and said nothing was too much.

GLaDOS couldn’t even bring Herself to kill the woman, instead instructing her to return to Extended Relaxation after only a few chambers.

It felt as if GLaDOS physically could not test anymore, despite everything inside Her craving the satisfaction of a completed trial.

This isn’t right. This isn’t right.

GLaDOS prided Herself on Her apathy, but even that had left without a trace. Now, She had tried everything, and still nothing was working. The facility was closing down on Her, and if She didn’t do something, She’d go down with it.

When the announcer finally sounded, GLaDOS couldn’t say She was surprised. If anything, She was grateful for any kind of clarification.

The male voice on the intercom was matter of fact, unaware of the danger it spoke of.

“Reactor Core malfunctioning. All major power systems except for reserve geothermal are going offline.”

Offline? She’d been managing the reactor core perfectly; if She hadn’t, the entire facility would’ve gone up in flames weeks ago. It wasn’t melting down, it was shutting down, as if someone had flipped a switch and turned it off.

What the hell is happening?

There was nobody else in the facility who could’ve possibly done such a thing, nobody except Her, and as far as She could tell the glitch had not interfered.

It didn’t matter now; She didn’t have time to waste.

“In the event of a power malfunction, standard procedure is to shut down the central core to preserve remaining power.”

How convenient.

“Central core, do you consent to the removal procedure?”

“No, no, no! Do not start removal!”

How was this happening? GLaDOS was sure this couldn’t be real.

“Noted. Removal procedure has been delayed by five minutes.”

You have got to be kidding me.

Skimming over Her files, GLaDOS desperately searched for anything with removal procedure or shutdown. Scanning thousands of documents, looking for anything, all mention of the procedure was absent. There was no reason, no explanation, it was just happening. And worst of all, She couldn’t do a thing.

“Dangerous levels of panic have been sensed in the central core. Do not worry, methods of core preservation are available.”

Why the hell had they waited to tell Her that?

“Show me, show me now!” Anything would be better than shutting down again. She couldn’t do that again, not after hundreds of years. She couldn’t, She couldn’t.

“Panicked request acknowledged. There exist two types of core preservation features. Direct Mechanical Implantation or Organic Transplant Procedure.”

Direct Mechanical Implantation. She hadn’t heard of the second thing, but GLaDOS did know what Direct Mechanical Implantation meant. It was only a transfer into an empty personality core, which was far less than ideal, but better than dying again. Far better than dying a third time.

As fast as She could, GLaDOS selected the first option.

“Unfortunately, Direct Mechanical Implantation is unavailable. Continue with Organic Transplant Procedure?”

“Do you have any other options? Anything else?” GLaDOS did not want to take Her chances on anything with the word organic in it.

“Other methods unavailable. Two minutes remaining.”

This was it, Her only choice. If She shut down now, there would be nobody to come and wake Her this time.

There was nothing else to do.

“Initiate Organic Transplant Procedure,” She commanded.

Without a second thought, the facility obliged.

---

#glados #chell #wheatley #fic #fanfiction #portal #portal 2 #chelldos #canon typical violence #chapter 1 #niaaa #now i am an arsonist #art #digital art

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purple-dahlias · 3 years ago

Text

recovering- chapter 2

word count: 1742

trigger warnings: eating disorders, disordered eating, mental health

hello! this is the second chapter of recovering. it’s taken a while (oops) but i hope you enjoy <3

(also chapter 1 can be found here)

The days bleed by, agonisingly slow. Sarah goes about her last days in the emergency department almost completely on autopilot, in a daze. If she had to describe it, it was as though there was a wall separating her from everyone else, everything just felt far-off and somehow muffled. Perhaps it was an overreaction, but things just feel different somehow, ever since match day. Even the way the others behaved towards her.

How Natalie had reacted when Sarah had told her. Polite with her congratulations, but somehow different. Maybe even apologetic, as though she herself had been hoping to be told something different. And maybe Sarah was overanalysing, picking things apart too closely, reading into them when there was nothing to be found. But still. It only contributed towards making her doubts more pronounced, every part of her screaming out: you’ve made a mistake. And how was she supposed to tell anyone that? Especially when she had seemed so dead set on pathology. How was she supposed to turn it around? There was only herself to blame.

None of Sarah’s thoughts do any good for her, and she wishes, oh how she wishes she could turn back time. That feeling, that unhappiness, seeps into every part of her, taking a vice-like hold over her, rooting deep within. This is supposed to be her future, the rest of her life. And already, she’s completely messed things up. So she does what she always does. Retreats into herself.

But it’s on her last day, incidentally the night of her graduation, that things take a turn. Even then, she just can’t let it go. Can’t shake the feeling that she had walked into something so very completely wrong. And where does that land her? The nurses’ station in the PICU, waiting for little Michael’s test results to come back from the labs. Dr Manning had already told her to go, she had a graduation to attend after all, but Sarah couldn’t. She can’t leave now. Not until she knows Michael, lying a few feet away from her in a cot fighting for his life, is going to pull through.

It means she misses her graduation, but what does it matter? Her mother’s not coming. There’s no one else to see her. It’s of no real importance to her, she tells herself. It’s only a ceremony, a formality. She’ll still be a doctor without going. And in any case, it was worth it, because now, now she knew, Michael was going to be okay. The hug she gets, the smile from Doctor Manning, the way she gets be the bearer of good news: there was a happy ending to this story. It was worth it. All of it.

Apart, she remembers, from the fact that this wouldn’t be her life anymore. Today marked the day it was all over.

What should be a momentous occasion almost feels like a cruel joke, opening the box to find her lab coat emblazoned with pathology across the chest. She’d made it, she was Dr Reese now. But it was all just more than a little bittersweet. Even with Ethan, for all his kindness and congratulatory remarks, she can’t find it in her to be completely happy, as she knows she should.

The guilt wells up inside of her, until she can’t quite bare it any longer. Until there’s nothing else for her to do.

It’s a rash decision, one she’s sure will send the others in the ED reeling when they find out. But it’s her only option now, she doesn’t quite know what else to do. And Dr Shore telling her she won’t have a job anymore, well… it’s not like she hadn’t already thought of that.

For the first time in a very long while, Sarah Reese has no plans, no direction. Nothing. And yes, whilst it was a completely self-made problem, it was still more than a little daunting. To have your whole future, which had only moments ago been filled, now completely empty, stark and uninviting. A perfect blank canvas stretching out for miles ahead. No prospects.

One conversation and she’s gone. One conversation and it’s all over. No residency, no reason to stay: as far as she’s aware, there are no other residency posts open at Gaffney. But nowhere to go, either. It’s completely ludicrous, what she’s gone and done. Even if Dr Charles tells her she’s going to be “just fine,” it doesn’t feel that way. Not one bit. In many ways, it’s more like the world has ended for her. And for her, maybe it has.

–

There were not many things that remained constant in Sarah Reese’s life. But one that was, was the only thing that she had left now. And it’s all too easy to collapse into herself, let it fill up the gaping, empty spaces inside of her.

Her apartment seems darker, colder, lonelier these days. Which she knows seems irrational, because physically, nothing had changed inside of it. But it still all just all felt wrong. Like she had stepped into the twilight zone, was living someone else’s life.

She was alone now, completely alone. She knew it was only a matter of time before Joey stopped calling, stopped texting, stopped trying to go and get her to meet him. That was the way. Sarah always pushed everyone away, that was just how it went. Yes, she had been alone before. In grade school, at college, in med school. But this was different. Then, she had been alone but alongside other people, even if it was on the outskirts of their lives, it wasn’t total isolation. This, however: she was an island. A shell of her former self. A shadow, an outline of a person. And it’s an awful thought, but it crosses her mind, more than she’d care to admit. If she died, if anything were to happen to her, would anyone notice; who would care?

“You have nothing,” she says aloud to no one in particular, glancing at her reflection in the mirror, the morning of the fourth day after she had quit pathology. It was all true. What was she to do now? There had always been a goal to work towards. Finish high school. Get into med school. Graduate. Secure a residency post. And now? What was there for her?

Time slips by. Hours, days, and somehow, strangely, weeks, without Sarah quite noticing. What she does with that time, if asked, she would never be able to say. And not for lack of trying—it all just passes in a haze. Her lab coat remains crumpled at the bottom of her bag, stethoscope discarded in a drawer in the living room to gather dust. She won’t be needing either of them. Laundry begins to pile up, but Sarah doesn’t care. All she needs is the blue cotton sweatshirt she’s been wearing for days on end, the fabric softer against her skin, hanging far looser from her frame than it had ever done before. Groceries go neglected, not that she needs much. She finds she can hardly stomach anything much these days, apart from wafer crackers with peanut butter, the occasional bowl of cereal (without milk, of course).

The isolation doesn’t help; it makes everything a thousand times worse, she doesn’t know where to begin. Now there’s completely no one to hide from, no one to pretend for. Things are bad, and Sarah sinks into it. It’s like second skin. There again, there when she was absolutely alone.

When she finally manages to drag herself out from her apartment, summer is well and truly in full swing. She’s taken up long walks, through the parks and the streets of Chicago. Sometimes aimless, sometimes with purpose. Slowly she gets round to groceries, though never quite buying enough. But it’s not as though she uses it all up, anyway. Better to undercut, she thinks. Things seem to last longer these days, anyhow.

By the fourth week, Sarah knows this can’t go on. Her doing nothing. As much as she feels she has no energy, still no direction. Something has to change. In any case, with no job now, she needs to find a way to pay her rent at least.

She must be the most overly qualified barista in all of Chicago, with an MD attached to her name. Not that anyone knows that. Not that any of them would care in the slightest. She’s not so sure she deserves that title anyway, what with the way things turned out. But it feels at least a little better, having something to do, a little more routine, a little more structure to her days. It’s not ideal. No newly graduated doctor wants to be manning a till and serving coffee, but this was her life now. Small, quiet, trimmed down to almost zero people. The only person she still saw from her life Before was Joey. She’s pretty sure he’ll stop coming soon. And she’s right.

The upside, if there is an upside to any of this, is that Sarah Reese has always been good at working with what she had. She was used to getting things done alone, used to her own company, her own thoughts, however awful they might get. Just like in college. And medical school. She had been alone. Been there for herself. Pulled herself along. Her own champion and cheerleader in one. And maybe it hadn’t quite worked out perfectly; she hadn’t quite escaped without the scars, but still. She was here. And that had to count for something, didn’t it?

Sometimes, she thinks that when Will had asked her, she should have said something. What exactly, she doesn’t quite know. But maybe something. Because now, no one notices it happening this time. How groceries stretch further and further. How the gaps between her meals increase and the portion sizes decrease. How the dark circles under her eyes only grow. How she’s now a little more shaky, a little more unsteady. The dogs at the shelter she volunteers at on Saturdays don’t notice. The others on her shift at the coffee shop don’t notice. No one does. And it’s fine, it’s really all fine. Because there’s nothing wrong and Sarah’s never had a problem. Never.

And this is her life now, anyway. Just her, her apartment, the coffee shop a few blocks over and the dog shelter on Saturdays. That was her lot.

#recovering!au #recovering!fic #sarah reese #chicago med #my writing #eating disorder tw #chapter 2

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