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creativebrainrot · 6 months

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I lived.

ive been through so much shit in this house and finally, i can trust and know, that theres an end. That in the very first week of November my new life can begin. the one i thought id always have from the time i was young. when i was a kid i thought id grow up to become educated, go to college, move out around 22-25 and have a Normal Life. i never did. instead i got to wonder why all the media i saw told me that fathers would do anything for their kids- especially "their little girls" which at the time, i was. i had to wonder why after any little convo with my father i wanted to cry in the shower- why so many times i DID cry in the shower afterwards. I didnt question all the times I cried myself to sleep. all the times i had to fight off thoughts of self hate and "i wish i was dead" "id be better off dead, no one would miss me," I was a child. I didnt think anything was wrong until i did question why id never heard anyone else talk about that, about wanting to cry after every conversation you had with your father. I knew i never felt like he loved me, like he wanted me. I knew he felt like an estranged neighbor that i lived with for some reason, instead of feeling like my father. I never trusted him. i never felt at home in this house. I never had friends in real life. the one kid my age i did meet, moved away a few months later. the other kids were not my age, and troubled, and connected to my abusive father's friends. so i was isolated and homeschooled.

my dad would take me to the park routinely incase i did ever get the chance to make friends there but it never happened.

homeschooling was also my dads idea and i do think it was the better choice for me personally because of where we live (i would've likely been bullied to no end and that plus the at home abuse wouldve broken me i think.) but it did enable my father to isolate me further. he isolated my dad too. the social anxiety just last year i felt about saying ANYTHING, the way i was trained to hyperanalyze EVERYTHING that i said, the FEAR and ANXIETY i felt whenever i thought of a way my words could be twisted into something malicious, the ways my words could be twisted into something i wasnt saying. my dad and i both felt like that for YEARS. we've always lived in the middle of fucking no where. i cant walk to a mall. i cant walk to the grocery store. we have no public transport. its so christian out here that early on my dad (who is perceived as a middle aged housewife here) wouldve been told to stay with my father or somewhat ostracized for divorcing him- even without being involved in any church congregation here. the social pressure, the physical isolation, the mental abuse that ruined our selfconfidence, the second guessing ourselves, all of it.

If I told you of one single incident you would think a single prick of a needle's point had driven me mad.

Because to describe the sheer amount of needle pinpricks before that is hard to describe, difficult to convey the gravity of every little pinprick over the two decades i had to live with my father and his abuse.

he got worse right before he left, in my dad's eyes, but- and this may be stupid of me, i didnt feel like that. he was always pathetic, to me. He was stupid and impulsive but he was dangerous and he is the only person that ever made me feel Bleak. Truly, genuinely, sincerely bleak. for the first few months of 2019, i felt nothing. i was numb. resigned. i believed there was no good ending, that this house and that abuse was all i would ever know. there was no use fighting or feeling. it would change nothing.

to some extent i still havent truly realized deep down that im, free. im free now. im an adult now. no one will ever make me powerless again. i wont fall for any of this abuse in the future. i have friends now. i once believed i was truly unlovable and that no one would bat an eye if i disappeared. that i was not worth noting. i still struggle with thoughts of being "replaceable." but now, i know people who care. i have independence now. once im out of this shithole state my dad and i can seek trans health care- fuck, we can HAVE HEALTHCARE at all.

I don't miss my father. I hate that i still love him, somehow. he was the only one who ever made me want to kill myself. he was always the sole reason for the mountains of distress i felt. Im glad he never got to know I was queer.

what kept me going for so long was my childhood cat and music, and my dad. I lost my childhood cat BK this year, and it still hurts. But in my heart shes still here, somehow. I want to find a kitten with her sweet little eyes, when we're settled into the new living situation. BTS's music in particular always made me feel better, I still listen to them.

this house was a fixer-upper in the first place. it became a money sink over the years of neglect. my father promised to fix so many things but instead he trashed the place. i have never slept in a bedroom I loved. i have never had a real dresser. i havent had a furnished dining room since i was 7 or so. i havent been able to stay lucid in this house because its just so trashed already that apathy is a must or else i get more depressed. i try, i really do try to clean when i can. but this house is beyond repair for myself and my dad at this point. even if we wanted to fix it we cant. we have no money for all the tlc it needs at this point. moving is the only option.

I miss caring. I miss caring about my surroundings. Caring about myself. Caring about my dad. I miss feeling each day. We were doing so well before the car broke down.

deep in my heart I wish i could ask my father "why" but I know that no answer would satisfy me. Nothing can explain "why," that I haven't already known by now, yet my heart yearns with that question anyway. "Why?"

and now we're only a week away from knowing the life we had always wanted and dreamed of. we tasted that life just a few months ago, for a year or two and it was lovely. It can only get better from here. I spent ages hanging on to a THREAD of hope. for my dad. I never wanted him to be the one to find the aftermath, i couldnt do that to him. and deep down i wanted, so desperately, for it to get better. Im so glad I hung on long enough to be rewarded. it was hard. I had to fight to see tomorrow, to not give up, to not abandon hope. It was so fucking hard, and I dont regret a second of it.

The list of my and my dad's abuse at the hands of my father when he was living with us, and still alive, is long. But the list of our progress, our hopes and our plans, our dreams, our triumphs, is so much longer.

I lived. I lived to see a new dawn and finally know the life child me always thought we would end up having. We're free, and im so happy, finally.

#open journal #open journalling #rotthoughts #creativelyrottedmind #personal #parental abuse #abuse #suicide mention #tw suicide

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rosesloveletters · 1 year

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Hi Rose! I am very new to the self shipper community and I just have a few questions I guess? I hope this doesn't come across as rude but I was just wondering, where do you draw the line between fiction and reality with your f/o's? like do you consider your relationships with them to be like "real" relationships or more of a coping mechanism that you exercise through writing? Do you talk about your f/o's irl? And do you think self shipping can be taken "too far"? I'm just wondering these as someone new to the community. Love your blog and I hope you're doing well<3

Hi, dear anon❤️

First of all, welcome to the self shipper community! I hope that this becomes a wonderful experience for you and that you enjoy yourself to the fullest.

I really appreciate your questions and I don't think you've come across rude! These are very valid and important thoughts and I hope I can answer them effectively for you.

I'll break it down question by question so that my responses are easier to digest:

Where do you draw the line between fiction and reality with your f/o's?

This answer is going to be vastly different from person to person, since every self shipper operates in different ways and applies different methods to their fictional ships.

I obviously know that none of my F/Os are "real" in the sense that I can never physically meet them or be close with them or have a real world relationship with them in the sense that they are there in front of me, carrying on a two-sided relationship.

I think that as long as the shipper knows and acknowledges this, then they are free to self ship any way they want. I think the danger comes in when a shipper does not understand the clear separation and their real life begins to suffer because of it.

I don't think it's a bad thing to incorporate elements of your self ships into your real life, which is something I do, but it is important to note that these fictional relationships are not actually "real" in the sense of what makes something real or not, but that also does not mean that they are less important than real relationships.

It is a fine line between fiction and reality and I think it is important for every individual to maintain a healthy balance and understanding of each.

Do you consider your relationships with them to be like "real" relationships or more of a coping mechanism that you exercise through writing?

Similarly to what I've said above, I don't consider them to be "real" relationships. For example, if I wanted to date a real person, my self ships would not affect that, so my thought process wouldn't be "oh, I'm already in a relationship with Lion, that would be cheating etc. etc."

However, many self shippers are content with having F/Os and fictional relationships instead of real ones, which is true for me. I have no interest in a real romantic relationship, so it would have no real world consequence anyway.

A lot of my self shipping is expressed through writing.

Do you talk about your f/o's irl?

Yes, I do.

Not many people irl know that I self ship or have F/Os, but there are elements of reality that I apply within my fictional relationships.

This answer will differ from person to person, because there are some self shippers who do not apply any reality to their ships, some do and to various degrees.

For me, the best way I can describe it is that it is a very imaginative process. For example, some things I do are as simple as imagining my F/O accompanying me places like to the grocery store, doctor's appointments, etc. I have social anxiety and imagining one of my loves beside me while I engage with the world calms me down. I can play out imaginary scenarios I want to experience with them or imagine them saying certain things to me or whatever I want! I can pretend they got me gifts, read to me, etc.

What really helps me separate my self shipping from reality is that I have a self insert, who is essentially a stand-in for myself, but she is fictional so I can mentally separate her from myself a bit better. Her name is different from mine and my F/Os mostly refer to that name when I'm self shipping because it's easier for me to feel connected with that stuff when it doesn't feel like I'm one hundred percent myself, if that makes sense? My self-insert is basically an idealized version of myself, but depending on what F/O's canon she is currently a part of, her appearance, form and role will be altered.

What I mean by that is, say for example I'm writing something about Lion. In Scarecrow canon, my self-insert works with Lion and Max at the carwash as their receptionist/bookkeeper and there's a whole storyline and everything I won't get in to right now, but then in another canon, we'll say Ocean's Eleven, she is Terry Benedict's daughter and works with him at the resort-casinos. All of my F/Os are separate when I'm writing, respective to their specific canons, but when I imagine them irl, I can imagine that they are aware of each other, how they perceive each other, etc.

I know this is super confusing and a really long explanation, but I don't know how else to put it.

And do you think self shipping can be taken "too far"?

Yes, I do absolutely think it can be taken too far. I think just about anything can be taken too far, depending on the circumstances.

I think self shippers get a bad reputation sometimes, because those who don't understand it think that it is dangerous to mix fiction and reality or that fiction directly affects your reality, which I simply don't believe.

Fiction is fiction. It is not real and cannot affect our reality unless we let it. Just because I self-ship with canonical murderers or a drug dealer, in Tony Montana's case, that does not mean I condone, support or want to be in a relationship with someone like that in real life.

I think perhaps it comes from me being a creator/writer, but I've always been fascinated with complicated or villainous characters. I think their story arcs are very interesting and they are typically a lot more compelling and well-written than the heroes.

It's important for self shippers to recognize the dangers of these types of people within reality and to separate fiction from reality, but the way I see it, fiction does not affect reality. At the end of the day, I am a storyteller and my self shipping is an extension of a written story and is one I'm telling to myself as I go. It keeps me entertained, motivates me to be creative, is a great coping mechanism for stress and anxiety and distracts me from some of the upsetting aspects of reality when it's safe to do so.

It's like watching tv: it's great to do in the moment when your time is your own, but you have to know when to turn it off and focus on reality.

I really hope this helps clear up some of these questions and if there's anything else I can do to answer you more effectively then please let me know! Thank you so much for your genuine kindness and wonderful questions❤️ Welcome to the community and I hope you enjoy your stay here.

#💌 anon #self-shipping #💌

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sweeter-fantasy · 3 years

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Because I Like You

The Quiett (Shin Dong Gab) X Reader

genre: a little angst, fluff

synopsis: I just love him and I’m slightly projecting in here, a little shitty mental health and he is the sweetest man ever

warning: a mention of bad mental health, anxiety, depression, but nothing serious

word count: 2330

a/n: it took me a while because life, and mental health, but I worked really hard on it and I hope you guys will like it

You never liked leaving your house, you always feared people were looking at you, judging you, big crowds made you uneasy, and having to look presentable at all times was just too much for you, so working from home was the perfect solution for you, and your ability to work with words turned you into a great freelancer.

You were basically the opposite of your neighbor tho, he was a famous rapper in Korea, you had seen him on TV every once in a while, he was always surrounded by people and seemed so comfortable being the center of attention. Even on those rare days when he stayed in, his friends would come over, and although sometimes they were a bit too noisy for your liking, especially when you were working, you enjoyed it, you were happy for him and his friends, and their laughter was a great white noise for you at times.

The only contact between the two of you was a silent “hey” at the rare times he saw you leaving the house, usually, to get groceries, the note he would slip under your door, informing you that his friends would be coming over and apologizing for the noise, and the baked goods you would leave outside his door as you were stress baking and didn’t want to eat everything alone, usually also leaving a note with a nice message, wishing he was well.

***

You were scrolling through social media as you were waiting in line at the grocery store, and amongst all the random posts you saw that Jay Park posted a photo with The Quiett, wishing him happy birthday. You looked at the picture, although he wasn’t really your type you had to admit there was something quite attractive about him.

While you were checking out your groceries you decided to bake him a cake and to try and get out of your comfort zone, and give him the cake yourself instead of leaving it outside his door.

On the way to your apartment building, you noticed a small group of men standing outside, smoking. As you passed by them you could feel that they were looking at you, and when you walked inside you could see they were slightly looking at you and talking about something, your anxiety telling you that you were the subject of the conversation.

You pushed this thought to the back of your head, and got up to your apartment, looking for a recipe on your phone.

Around three hours later you finished making the cake, with a nice “happy birthday” written and chocolate-covered fresh fruit decorating it. You quickly changed into more presentable clothes, that weren’t covered in flour and chocolate.

You looked at the mirror, making sure you were clean, grabbed the cake, and left your apartment. You stood outside his door, and you could hear the faint music and loud talking from inside. You took a deep breath and rang the doorbell.

Seconds later he opened the door, surprised to see you standing there. You could see through the open door the same men you saw downstairs and quickly looked back at him.

“y/n! Hey! I didn’t expect to see you here,” he smiled at you.

“I just came to wish you a happy birthday,” you said shyly, holding out the cake.

“aw thank you! The cake looks great! You shouldn’t have…”

“yeah but I felt like I should,” you looked down, “you should get back to your friends now."

"do you want to come in? We’re having a little birthday party."

"thank you but I should get going, happy birthday!"

"thank you!” he smiled at you, only closing the door after you entered your house, and walked back to the living room, placing the cake on the table.

***

“Hyung who was that?” Jinyoung asked as all of them were curious about you after seeing you twice the same day.

“oh, that was my neighbor, y/n, she baked me a cake,” he smiled, his ears slightly red, thinking about your smile.

“she’s the same neighbor who usually brings you baked goods? The one you always talk about?” Sungbin asked, “why don’t you just invite her for coffee or something? You obviously want to spend time with her…"

"I don’t know… She’s not really the type to spend time with people, but I’d need to return the plate, so maybe then, I’ll see…"

Donggab went to the kitchen to bring spoons and plates, and to avoid the kids’ eyes, still thinking about your cute smile and good heart.

***

A couple of days later, after they finished the cake and Donggab did the dishes, he tried to muster up the courage to ask you out for coffee. It’s not that you were an intimidating person, he was just amazed by the amount of time you could spend alone, with only music as your company, how you were so nice yet always looked like you wanted to be left alone, he just didn’t want to intrude, to make you feel uncomfortable.

He took a deep breath, before finally ringing the doorbell. After what he felt like forever you opened the door, he noticed your hair was all perked up in different directions, and how you rubbed your puffy eyes, and how you were still beautiful in his eyes, yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that your eyes weren’t puffy and red from only sleeping, he could swear there was a trail from a tear on your cheek before you rubbed it.

“Is everything okay?” you yawned while tiredly looking at him, you had so many deadlines lately you barely had time to sleep, you fell asleep the second you submitted your last work.

“Oh um yeah, everything is great, I just, I just wanted to return your plate, I had no idea I’d wake you up, I’m so sorry,”

“That’s okay, people don’t usually sleep at this time of the day,” you weakly smiled as he handed you the plate, “thanks for returning it.”

“Are you okay?”

“Um, yeah, I just had a really busy week, that’s all,” you yawned again, “I’m gonna go back to sleep now, thanks again for the plate!”

“Y/n!” he quickly called your name, using his hand to stop you from closing the door. He had to ask you, it was now or never.

“Yeah?”

“I-I was wondering,” he was too nervous to look at your face so he decided to focus on your ear instead, so it would at least look like he looks at you, “um, I’m going over to my parents for a couple of days, and I was wondering if you… if you would like to come over for coffee or tea or something when I come back on Friday?”

“Sure, sounds great! Have fun with your parents!” you smiled at him, before closing the door. When you placed the plate in the kitchen you noticed your reflection in the microwave, and shook your head, he was just being friendly.

“Or was he being more than just friendly?” you questioned yourself as you lay in bed, “could he possibly be into me? No way, I mean, we’re so different, it was just a friendly offer,” you convinced yourself, not wanting to build your expectations, so you wouldn’t get hurt and disappointed.

***

The days passed fast, and before you could even notice it was already Friday. Although you were excited about having coffee with Donggab, you were overworked and your mental state has taken its toll on you, everything was a little too much. You fell asleep in the morning, telling yourself you will wake up by the time you and Donggab agreed upon.

Donggab returned earlier than he thought and texted you the second he walked into his apartment. As he went to put his things away he mentioned how messy his apartment is. He glanced at the clock, seeing he still had around two hours until you were supposed to come over, he decided to clean up a little bit.

Time passed quickly, and when he finished cleaning and organizing he noticed you were supposed to come over any minute now, but before he could get changed he checked his phone only to see that you didn’t text him back, you haven’t even seen his message. He decided not to overthink it and went to get changed. But as the minutes were passing by, and soon turned into half an hour, forty minutes, fifty minutes, an hour, he began to feel worried. He texted you again, and called you, and then texted and called again, he was getting more worried by the minute. He put his shoes on and crossed the hallway to your apartment, ringing the doorbell.

He had to ring the doorbell five times until you woke up and opened the door, wearing a large hoodie and a pair of sweatpants, hair messy, and your eyes all puffy and red again, but this time Donggab could see the trail from your dried tears, you were too tired to even notice that.

“Donggab? What are you doing here?” you asked, your mind still clouded from sleep.

“We were supposed to meet up an hour ago, you didn’t show up and I got worried,” he sighed, relieved you weren’t hurt, but still extremely worried about you, “can I come in?”

“What? Why?”

“I don’t want to talk in the hallway,” you went to the living room, and he closed the door behind him as he followed you, sitting on the couch, facing each other.

“Listen, I’m so sorry, I… I just fell asleep and didn’t notice the time,” you said, looking at his face, feeling like you screwed up your friendship with him, “it really was an accident, I was actually looking forward to that.”

“y/n, is anything wrong?”

“What do you mean?”

"look, I know we don’t know each other that well, but I’m still worried about you. No one deserves to be alone,” he looked you in the eyes, seeing something break in them, he understood he hit a sensitive spot.

“So what? You were nice to me only because you pitied me?” you looked at him sternly, your suspicions were true, he didn’t care, “I don’t need your pity.”

“What? No,” he sighed, “I don’t pity you, I honestly admire the fact that you don’t depend on other people for your happiness. What I meant to say is, something is definitely wrong, you can’t deny it.”

“What do you mean, definitely wrong?”

“Your eyes, they’re always red and puffy, at least when I see you, sometimes, when you don’t have the time to wash your face, I can see the dried tears,” he stopped for a second, trying to read your face, “I heard you cry a couple of times, I just didn’t know what to do… that’s why I’m trying so hard to befriend you, so you could trust me. You’re nice and sweet and genuinely kind, this isn’t right for you to suffer, and I want to be there for you, I want you to be able to count on me.”

“Why?”

“Because I like you,” he whispered.

The room was so quiet you could hear a pin drop, you didn’t know what to say. So many thoughts were running through your head, you wanted to scream. Deep down you knew he was right, you didn’t deserve to suffer, to be alone your entire life, you didn’t want to lose him.

“Being around people makes me nervous,” you said quietly, looking down at your hands, you couldn’t bring yourself to meet his eyes, “I’m so scared about people trying to hurt me that I don’t even want to try and make friends, but here you are, telling me that you want to be my friend?” the last part came out as a question, you still couldn’t believe it.

“I really do care about you, you know?” he put one hand on yours, using the other to gently cup your face, wiping the tears with his thumb, “but you’re wrong, I don’t want to be your friend.”

Your heart dropped hearing him say that.

“I probably shouldn’t have stopped talking after that,” he chuckled, “I meant to say, that by inviting you for coffee I wanted to ask you out on a date, I just didn’t know how. I mean, your eyes, they’re so beautiful that when you look at me I forget what I want to say, your smile just lights up the room, and I always want to be around you and talk to you, so maybe… I like you even more than I thought?”

“I-I don’t know what to say…”

“You don’t have to say anything,” he looked down suddenly as if he was ashamed of his confession, “I mean, we’re pretty different, and I’m quite older than you, and-”

“I would love to go on a date with you,” you interrupted him, you didn’t want to hear reasons as to why you shouldn’t be with him, “I was just surprised, but I think I like you too, and going on a date with you would be great.”

He smiled hearing you say that, relieved after he asked you out.

“If you’re already here, you can stay for dinner…” you looked at him hopefully, you wanted him to stay.

“Only if you agree to call this our first date,” he smirked at you, not wanting to leave either.

“Fine,” you jokingly scoffed, “we’ll call it a date.”

“Great! I’ll order take out.”

“Sounds good,” you smiled, and got up to go and wash your face, “I’ll be back in a minute.”

You looked at yourself in the bathroom mirror, you couldn’t believe how the night turned out, but you were happy. You smiled to yourself as you washed your face and brushed your hair, having a good feeling about you and Donggab. You finally had your shot at happiness.

#the quiett #shin donggab #illionaire #illionare records #ambition musik #the quiett scenarios #the quiett imagines #shin donggab scenarios #shin donggab imagines #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #sweeter fantasy writing #khh fanfics #khiphop #Daniel Cher

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meetthetank · 3 years

Text

Starved

Rating: General AudiencesArchive Warning: No Archive Warnings ApplyCategory: F/M Fandom: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse) Relationships: Steve Burnside/Claire Redfield, Steve Burnside & Alexia Ashford (kind of) Characters: Steve Burnside, Claire Redfield, Alexia Ashford (kind of), Jill Valentine Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Touch-Starved, Post RE Rev2, Therapy Group - Freeform, Read A/N for more context, Steve is a sad sad man who missed out on A Lot, Angst, Subtle love languages Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232369 Summary: Months after being rescued from his second island prison, Steve Burnside tries to adjust to a normal life while dealing with the scars left both physically and mentally. Luckily, he has some help. Notes: Sooooooooo here's the thing. There were worms in my brain. Real bad. So this is like... a manifestation of a longfic that I want to write later down the road. Some things to know before going in. 1) Steve revived on an island meant to store "failed" B.O.W. experiments that was left abandoned. He was there for a year and some change. 2) Allie is a child clone of Alexia who was in the same facility and befriended him. They live together and Steve is her legal guardian. 3) Jill runs a victims of B.O.W. experimentation which includes Steve, Manuela, Sherry, herself, and some others. I think that's everything but if yall have anymore questions feel free to ask. This is incredibly self indulgent to write but I hope you guys enjoy it too.

“Please stop pacing,” Allie sighs, “You look like a caged beast.”

Steve glares at the child, a clone of the insane woman who killed him, as she sips her tea at the other side of their flat. She glares back, her hazel eyes sharp as ever. She’s waiting for him to retort so she can shoot him down with a smart ass remark like a shark circling a drowning bird. When all she gets is an indignant huff she sips her tea and rolls her eyes.

“You do this every time she comes over. If she didn’t run away at the first sight of your ghastly visage she’s not going to run now.”

Steve sighs, “Yeah, but-“

“What absurd thing are you putting in your own head this time?” Allie snaps, setting her dainty pink teacup next to her stuffed dragon, “You’re going to stink up the room if you think too hard.”

He tunes out the insults with a scowl, but Steve knows the kid is right. He’s thinking way too much about this. Claire didn’t run away screaming the first time they met since he came back, she’s not going to do it for the seventh.

Even still, as Steve passes by the mirror in the front room he jumps at his own reflection. The person inside doesn’t look like him, it doesn’t feel like him. Their ginger hair isn’t wild and tangled, it’s washed, brushed and tied up in a small ponytail. Their shocking green eyes aren’t sunken into their sockets, and there’s a splash of red sunburn on their skin. He can even see a smattering of freckles across their nose and cheeks. They look like a stranger, but the deep, ragged scars across his face remind him of his past. The biggest and ugliest of the marks starts well above his hairline, drops down over his right eye and curls over his lips. A few smaller ones run across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, but they aren’t nearly as deep.

He always thought scars were sexy when he was a kid. Manly. The marks of some action hero or badass. Now they just… Make him look tired and scared.

A small hand grabs onto one of his. “Did you take your medicine today?” Allie asks without a trace of her previous vitriol.

Steve shakes his head. “I’m out of the anxiety pills. Ms. Valentine said she’s going to bring them over when she comes to pick you up.”

“Okay.” Allie says with a curt nod.

“You got everything for your field trip?” Steve meanders over to the kitchen again, eager to change the subject.

“Can I have some spending money?”

He raises an eyebrow, “How much and what for?”

“Fifty for museum books.” Allie puts her hands on her hips and glares up at her guardian with defiance sparkling in her eyes.

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, “Twenty.”

Allie lifts her chin, “Forty-five.”

“Thirty.”

“Forty-five and I buy you a cool rock from the Natural History Museum.”

“Deal.”

With negotiations done (and Steve down forty-five bucks) the only thing left to do is wait. He switches the tv on to drown out his own thoughts. Some hockey game. It’s not his team so he doesn’t care too much, but it’s a comforting familiarity. At least sports didn’t change too much since ‘98.

Steve let’s himself zone out as much as he can to the game. At one point he thinks about getting a beer but decides against it. He’d probably have one or two with Claire at dinner. That, and his meds don’t mix well with alcohol if he hasn’t eaten. So instead he bounces his leg, bites his nails, and busies his hands with whatever he can reach.

Did he used to be like this? It’s hard for him to remember past his awakening and even harder to think past Rockfort. He was a neurotic mess out of necessity on the Storage Facility Island, a place where any sound could be death, and Rockfort was a similar story with the addition of his teenage bravado, but before he was taken? He barely remembers what his parents looked like, let alone what social masks he had to put on. Steve lets out a long, quiet sigh. It doesn’t matter anymore. He’s like this now, and that’s all he needs to know. At least now he has a support system.

Just as Steve starts to calm down, the doorbell rings.

He jumps out of his chair and bolts to the front door, heart in his throat and stomach upside down. His hands begin to shake as he reaches for the knob-

“Hi, Steve.”

“Oh,” Steve sighs, a bit too loudly judging by the way the visitor raises an eyebrow, “Hey, Jill.”

She gives him a warm, knowing smile as she fumbles with her shoulder bag. “Claire coming over today?”

“Yeah.” Steve scratches the back of his neck, “That easy to tell?”

Jill laughs, “Careful now, Redfields can smell fear.” She hands him a paper bag from the local drugstore, “Here. I know you said you were out of the anxiety meds, but I got everything refilled for you.”

“Oh! Uh, thanks!” He tosses the bag across the room to the chair he had just left. “So what museums are you hitting today?”

“All depends on our little cruise director.” Jill says with a small laugh, “Speaking of-”

Allie brushes past Steve, the charms on her backpack jingling with each step. “Air and Space and Botanical Gardens! Oh, and Natural History too. I promised I’d buy Steve a cool rock.”

“Easily bribed, I see.” Jill smirks at him quickly, then turns her attention back to Allie, “Sounds like a deal, kiddo.”

Eager to get on her way, Allie all but jumps out of the door and runs to where two more members of their little therapy group, Manuela and Sherry, wait. Both women greet her with smiles and hugs, and she wastes no time in launching into sharing things she had learned since the last time they had spoken.

“I’d stick around,” Jill says as she backtracks to the group, “But I feel like if I wait any longer there’s going to be a mutiny.”

The rumbling of a motorcycle echoes down the street, and Jill turns back to Steve with a quick smirk.

“Besides, you have company.”

Jill darts over to the group, casting a wave back to Steve and over to the biker before motioning to the ladies to begin their trek. Steve watches with wide eyes and a thundering heart as the biker dismounts and pulls off their helmet, revealing short auburn hair and stunning blue eyes. She gathers up a few plastic bags from her bike before jogging over to him, while he stands there like a deer in headlights.

“Hey, Steve!” She says with a bright, radiant smile and shoves some of her bags in his hands.

“W- Hey, Claire.” He fumbles with the grocery bags, “What’s all this?”

“Dinner. Figured making our own burgers would be better than ordering out.” Claire explains and shuffles inside the door as Steve moves aside for her. “And more fun.”

Though Steve can’t deny her claim, he also can’t fight the apprehension that coils in his stomach. He can cook, sure, he had to or die on the island, but he has no idea how to use any of the kitchen gadgets Jill’s group and Terra-Save set him up with. None of it is as simple as a slapdash firepit and some scraps of metal. Maybe if he’s lucky Claire will know what to do and he can just chop vegetables or something. The last thing he wants to do is make more of a fool of himself.

“Uh, sure!” He blinks his thoughts away, shuts the door and retrieves his bag of medicine from the chair.

By the time Steve turns back towards his kitchen, Claire is already busy setting up groceries and making herself at home. He watches her take off her heavy bomber jacket, revealing a thinner red and black flannel, and set it on the back of a chair at the kitchen table. She drops her plastic bags on the counter and grabs a beer out of his fridge; she looks like she’s been coming here for months. Something about the image before him makes Steve’s chest tighten. He’s not sure if it’s a bad feeling or not.

“-Steve?”

“Huh?” He snaps out of his stupor with a jolt.

Claire wiggles the opened bottle in her hand, “Did you want one?”

“Oh, uh, sure.” He stammers and rubs the back of his neck but walks across the room to take the beer. Maybe he did need something to settle his nerves after all.

Claire smiles at him like she’s known him all his life, like she knows what’s going on in his head and she understands why he’s so awkward and nervous around her. What was it that Jill said before? Redfields can smell fear? He knows it’s a joke but the way Claire seems to understand his fidgeting and hesitation leaves him wondering if there’s some kind of truth to it. A few gulps of beer (technically a hard cider, his first beer made him vomit) gives him enough bravado to at least go into the small kitchen with her.

Thankfully, she doesn’t ask him to work any of the gadgets. Claire’s hands glide over buttons and knobs, setting temperatures on his stove and placing pans. She directs Steve to break the ingredients out of the bags. Ground beef, cheese, brioche buns, vegetables, and a myriad of spices.

“This is a lot for just burgers, isn’t it?” He asks, mouth full of stolen tomato.

“Come on now, you know I wouldn’t do just burgers.” Claire laughs a bit, a sound that makes Steve’s heart stop. “This is an ancient Redfield family recipe.”

“Should I be worried?” Steve can’t help but smile back. She has this way about her that makes him feel lighter, like everything takes a backseat to just… being around her. He can joke, come out of his shell a little. She won’t hurt him.

Claire giggles at him, “It’s the way our dad used to make them. Chris held onto the secret ingredient till he was… Thirty something I think. I basically had to interrogate him for it.”

He raises an eyebrow and grins devilishly, “So...what’s the secret?”

“Oh, just a blend of spices.” She shrugs, “Nothing that inventive. But it’s special to Chris, so don’t go telling him I told you.”

Claire winks at him then turns back to mashing the ground beef into patties, leaving Steve to gawk at her. She’s delightfully impish when she wants to be, he can see himself getting into all sorts of flirtatious teasing matches with her… if he weren’t so weird. She directs him to chop up the tomatoes and onions after she catches him staring, again with a playful smirk and slug to his shoulder.

Something he had to become good at while on that remote island, alone aside from Allie and the wild B.O.Ws, was how to observe. The more he watches Claire out of his peripheral, the more she reveals to him. He watches the way her face falls as she focuses on the burger patties, as if she gets lost in her own thoughts and forgets where she is for a split second. It isn’t hard for him to see the sadness she hides from the world, it’s the same kind as one he carries. The reason Steve still roots for his hockey team, or even still watches the sport is because it reminds him of his dad. It’s the last connection he still has to his late father, and of a time mostly lost to him. He feels more special than he should that Claire would choose to share something like that with him.

Suddenly a sharp pain shoots up Steve’s arm. He drops the knife, now streaked with red and pulls his hand close to his chest with a hiss. His heart races and his eyes dart around, searching for other dangers in the area. Anything might be lurking in the shadows waiting to take advantage of his weakness. He scans back and forth for threats, eyes wide and alert. Nothing catches his attention except-

“Steve?! What happened?”

Claire drops her own knife and rushes over to him overcome with worry, but stops in her tracks when Steve backs away from her. He looks like a frightened animal, eyes wild and darting to anything that moves even the slightest bit.

“Did you cut your hand open?”

Her voice is soft and gentle as she approaches, hands low and outstretched to him. She doesn’t step closer, she waits for him to bridge the gap. Steve can see the caution in her face. Like she’s trying to coax a stray kitten out of hiding.

It works.

“Y-yeah,” Steve says, dropping the tension in his body a little. “I uh, wasn’t paying attention and… I guess it slipped.”

He opens his hand enough for Claire to see the small streaks of red that pool beneath his thumb. It’s superficial, barely deep enough to scar. The virus would already be hard at work stitching the burst blood vessels together, but he should still clean and bandage it. He has a bad habit of picking at the scaly scabs that form over wounds.

“Are you okay?” Claire asks, taking a small step forward. The gap between them is barely a foot wide. “That looks like it’s bleeding a lot.”

As Steve starts to relax further, Claire’s fingertips brush against his hand for a split second. The shock is enough to send him reeling back, his heart leaping into his throat. His instincts tell him to run and hide or fight his way to a safe place. Somehow he finds the self control to speak.

“No!” He yelps, loud enough to startle Claire. He lowers his voice but takes another step back. “No, I got it. It’s fine.”

He doesn’t stick around long. He can’t bear the worried, somewhat hurt, look on Claire’s face. Steve hurries into the bathroom around the corner and shuts the door before the fear and guilt tear him to pieces from the inside out. With trembling hands he turns on the sink faucet and lets icy water run over his open wound. It stings a little, but nothing he can’t endure. The excess blood trickles down the drain and vanishes in seconds. Just as he thought, the cut isn’t deep at all. That eases his anxieties somewhat, but not enough to stop the oncoming panic attack. Before it overtakes him, he wraps a washcloth around his hand to contain the blood as best he can.

Steve sinks to the floor and puts his head between his knees. It’s a struggle but he forces himself to take deep even breaths, just like Jill had taught the group. Though his head still spins, it helps to calm his heartbeat enough that it doesn’t feel like he’s about to have a heart attack. The trembling stops once he lets his consciousness fade to survival mode; he only thinks about his breathing and that he is safe.

Claire isn’t going to hurt him. No one is. He’s safe here. He’s safe with her.

Claire isn’t going to hurt him.

The world slows down, finally. Steve isn’t sure how long he’s been here but it can’t have been too long. Claire hasn’t come knocking on the door looking for him yet, and the savory scents of meat and spices being seared drifts in from the kitchen. His stomach tightens at the smell, helping to distract him further. Though his whole body feels heavy and drained of energy, Steve finds the strength to push himself to his feet once again. He cleans the now dried blood off of his hand, sloppily wraps his hand with a bandage, and dumps the rag he was holding into the wastebin before leaving the sanctuary of the bathroom.

When Steve returns to the kitchen, he expects Claire to rush at him and assault him with questions, but the only question is in her eyes. Wide, blue, and deeply worried about him. She doesn’t say anything or move to approach him, she only watches and waits for him to be ready. The way her brow creases and turns upwards at the ends make her look guilty, and that sends a pain through his gut he can’t identify right away.

“All good.” He announces, showing off his slapdash bandages. “It’s not deep. Just wanna keep it from getting dirty. And keep myself from picking at a scab.”

Claire looks at him with such intensity that Steve almost shrinks back from her gaze. It’s like she’s staring right through him.

“You sure?” she asks, keeping her voice low and gentle.

The genuine worry throws Steve for a loop. “Yeah.” He flashes her a wry, lopsided smile full of false confidence; as if he didn’t just have a panic attack. “I’ve had a lot worse.”

Claire studies him for a moment, then scoffs and shakes her head. A small grin finally appears on her face and it takes his breath away. “Yeah, I was there for some of those.”

She turns back to finishing up dinner. A shadow crosses her face as she grills the burger buns as a final touch, but it’s gone in a flash. Steve busies himself with getting drinks and plates, and thinking of something to say that might distract Claire from whatever sadness is eating away at her.

“You’ve had a lot worse than that.” He says with a grin, and immediately regrets it. Why did he think it’d be a good idea to bring back those kinds of memories?!

But Claire turns around and smiles broadly at him. “Oh you have no idea.” She drops a plate of burgers and a plate of toppings on the table, then as if to give Steve another heart attack, she props her leg up on the chair and rolls up one of her pant legs. A long, wide scar follows the length of her toned calf. Tan with age and wear, it stands out against her pale skin.

“This was from the Tyrant in Raccoon City.” She smirks, almost proud of her scar. “I was lucky it didn’t hit bone with how deep it was.”

There’s an edge to her voice, testing him. Teasing him. Steve grins. If Claire wants to have a scar battle, then he’s more than happy to show off.

He points to the largest scar on his face, “I got this from-...” Shit, he can’t tell her it was from falling down a mountain. That’s not cool. “...I got it from this big… Turtle thing.”

Claire raises an eyebrow at him, “Turtle thing?”

The lie spins out of control in his head, faster than he can stop. “Yeah! It was like...a big armored reptile B.O.W. Had these nasty claws for diggin’ in the ground. I got too close to it and it swatted at me. I’m lucky I didn’t lose this eye.”

He puts his hands on his hips and puffs out his chest a bit. He can’t pinpoint why showing off his trauma like this makes him happy. Maybe he’s just happy to share it at all. It doesn’t matter to him now. Claire is smiling. He’s smiling.

They go back and forth, showing each other their scars and places where bones were broken while eating homemade burgers and fries. Claire shocks Steve with just how many scars and injuries she suffered over her years of fighting bioterrorism, and he astounds her with his stories of his misadventures on the B.O.W. storage island and his encounters with all manner of beasts. Watching her listen to him with such fervor and interest almost makes him forget how horrific it all was. It helps in a weird way.

But that changes in an instant.

When it’s his turn to point out a scar and tell a story, he stops thinking. He lifts up his shirt, exposing the most gruesome scar on his body with an excited grin. A scar that stretches from his collarbone and disappears beneath the waistband of his pants, with dots alongside it on either side. Instead of a jagged outline like the scars left by accidents and B.O.W’s, this one is straight, clean. Surgical.

“This one was from when they autopsied me.” He explains, far too excited about the grim display he presents Claire. “It still itches like hell where the staples were-”

Steve snaps to reality once he looks up to see Claire’s awestruck face. Instead of excitement, it’s horror. Her hands cover her mouth and her eyes, brimming with barely restrained tears, lock onto his stomach and a wound so old he had almost forgotten about it. Beneath the autopsy scar, beneath the scars from man-made beasts, there’s a circular mark a similar color to the scar on Claire’s leg. It’s old, faded, but still aches from how deep the tissue reaches inside him. The gravity of the old wound may be lost on him, buried under the countless others that mar his body, but it’s fresh and raw to Claire.

He hastily pulls his shirt down, “Shit- I’m sorry, I didn’t-... I forgot that…” There’s nothing he can say that will ease her mind. He reaches out to her with one hand, stopping just by her arm before pulling back and sinking back into his chair. Another muttered apology falls from his lips as he hangs his head in shame.

He doesn’t notice Claire get up and cross the gap to him. Not until she takes a knee in front of him and brushes his unruly hair out of his eyes.

Claire’s touch is feather light and tender, but even that sends shocks through his skin. It jolts him out of his shamed stupor, and Claire pulls her hand back a few inches. Her expression is something he can’t make out. Somewhere between pity, sadness, and guilt. Before Steve can properly figure out what she’s thinking (something he’s never been good at) Claire runs her thumb across the large scar on his face, slowly and gently. He doesn’t flinch away from her this time. Then, something mundane yet earth shattering to this broken man out of time happens. Claire cups his scarred, stubble covered cheek in her hand.

Something breaks within him. A dam he didn’t know existed anymore that kept everything back, every trauma, every broken piece of him; some of which he didn’t even know were broken. Claire’s hand, her warm hand marred by callouses but still soft despite it all, molds to the contours of his face. There’s such tenderness, unrestrained kindness in her eyes and her touch and he can’t fathom how it can be directed to him. He doesn’t notice the tears in his eyes until they spill over.

Steve tries to calm himself with deep breaths but they come out stuttered and shaking. His shoulders heave, a lump in his throat chokes him. He screws his eyes shut, trying to shut out the vision of someone caring about him that deeply, but she’s still there. He can still see those piercing blue eyes boring into his soul and reading him like an open book. The moment Steve opens his eyes he sees the blurred outline of Claire Redfield wrapping her arms around his shoulders.

He wants to yell at her to leave, to tell her that he’s a lost cause and there’s no helping him. He’s too damaged, too broken. He’ll never have a normal life. He’ll never be able to pretend he isn’t a monster. He will never be able to have meaningful relationships. But all that comes out of his mouth is a broken, choked sob. Someone is touching him, someone cares about him. And he can’t understand it.

Despite himself, Steve pulls Claire into a tight embrace and sobs into her shoulder. Her fingers run through his hair, while her other hand rubs his quaking back. Steve can’t stem the tears, that’s a feat that even a mighty Redfield can’t achieve, but he can’t deny that simply being in Claire’s arms replaces despair with a strange warmth. For the first time he can remember, he feels...safe.

Eventually, the tears stop, and Steve is able to breath easily again. Claire doesn’t let him go for a minute and for that he silently thanks her. It isn’t until he begins to pull away that she too lets her arms down and pulls back from him.

“I’m sorry…” he mutters, wiping the stray tears from his eyes, “I don’t-”

“Shut up.” Claire commands and takes Steve’s hands from his face. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Darkness crosses her face for a moment. “I should be the one apologizing… I know you-... It’s hard after a while, not being… Not having human contact like that for a while. It’s not something they tell you about in therapy.”

Steve shakes his head, “I needed it. I really… Really did.” He sighs, “I...I didn’t know how much I...everything… still hurts.”

With that same kind smile, Claire leans forward and kisses his forehead. “It takes a lot of strength to admit you’re hurting that much. Give yourself some credit.”

“Maybe…” he says with a sad smile. “... Thank you, Claire. For everything.”

She takes his hand in hers, tracing the callouses and scars with her thumb. “Thank you for coming back.”

#Steve Burnside #Claire Redfield #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #tank fics #Holy shit yall i had the brainworms bad

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mcrmadness · 4 years

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I really shouldn’t do this. Just thinking about people who are no longer a part of my life either because they decided to stop talking to me or because I decided it was better to part ways. And it’s making me sad and I hate it. Mainly because I’m again starting to feel invisible and lonely and apparently I then tend to torture myself even more by making me go and do things that I then associate with these people.

But I also hate it how I feel like I don’t have a normal concept of human relation(ship)s at all. Sometimes I wonder if I have played just too much The Sims games in my life (I started when I was 9 so I have played these games for 20 years) because I feel like the way I see the relationships is exactly how it is in the sims games. Don’t interact in a while and soon you get a message “you are no longer friends with X”. That’s literally how I feel friendships in my head. I feel like whenever there’s a long pause, that will mean that the friendship will be automatically reset back to 0 by time. Whenever there’s something we both like and have in common, it’s immediate green plus marks on the friendship and a positive moodlet. When we disagree or don’t have something in common, it will give red minus marks. And maintaining relationships feels as difficult as it is in the sims games too - tell them the same thing twice and it will be minus points. Tell them a thing they don’t like and it’s minus points, if you’re too close to 50%, maybe it drops from friends to acquintances. If you tell a succesful joke, you’re friends again. And right now I’m feeling like I’m “losing” all my friends because there’s been too huge pause with everyone and I feel sad about anything I associate with them because I feel like a friendship is over even when no one has said anything like that. It’s all in my head and it’s like a delusion because the second someone talks to me again, I forget ever even having such feels. But when the next pause comes, I again start to prepare myself for the moment where I’m left alone and never talked to again. Maybe I just have had this kind of situations so often in my life that I’m already preparing myself for that moment so that it won’t be that big of a shock when it happens.

I know it’s not healthy and it’s not RIGHT towards my friends to constantly be like this but can I change? Is there anything I could do to change this? I don’t always even recognize when I’m doing this, only lately I have woken up to this and it makes me feel bad because, like that one post I made several weeks ago, I’m really concerned that am I one of those unstable friends that will drive everyone around them into exhaustion eventually. Are people getting out of my life only to protect themselves? I feel like I’m always just too much to everyone and that I’m left alone in the end because I’m the only one who cannot escape me. I have to live with my brains and listen to all the shit it comes up. I’d love to cancel myself too if I could, but I can’t.

When my depersonalization/derealization was at its worst, I acually felt like I was invisible. Some days I was legit wondering if I was even alive. I was wondering if I was a ghost or idk, in a coma but just had no clue. I felt like people did not see me anywhere, I still can remember being to a grocery store and almost being run over by someone with a shopping cart and so many people almost walked against me and I just remember that moment so well as I got really frustrated and I was almost certain that I must be invisible, how else would people almost run over me with a shopping cart and they did not even look at me, as if I was not even there! Some days I thought maybe my minor car crash in 2010 put me into coma (yeah, Life On Mars uk much???) because I haven’t felt like the time would have passed AT ALL since that. I still feel like I’d be 19 and I’m supposed to be 29. Like, HOW???

And now I’m starting to have that feel of being invisible again. I have a nice amount of followers on Tumblr and this is something that I don’t really want to address at all because I appreciate every single one there and I could not care less about the number itself. But I’m starting to feel like... how could I gain more followers who would be interested in my stuff too? Like, I feel like talking to walls here. I bet no one is reading this post either. I so often feel like venting and writing down my thoughts but then I feel like there’s no point in that because I could as well write in a diary, which I hate, because as many people are going to read these as there’s people who can read my diary. Aka none. Not even me. I don’t like reading my diary and usually I also do not come back to these posts I put in Tumblr. Sometimes I browse my posts and am like “wtf have I been writing???” but I guess that’s the main point too, just to get it out of my system and I don’t need them back, mainly because they never really leave, they just evolve into new stuff I will vent here sooner or later too.

I am an attention whore who is afraid of being the center of attention. Sure if I tagged my posts more I might get more people to find me but I’m also afraid of being found or that my personal posts get reblogged. I don’t really want these to be on anyone’s dash except when it’s my original post. My social anxiety is afraid of notes and my HSP is afraid of the reactions I might get because of notes. But whenever I do something that I wish would get notes, I get none. And every time that happens, my perfectionism feels violated and I feel like a failure and that I suck at everything ever. Sometimes I am even shocked by the fact I post something like this and then suddenly remember that I have no idea how many people out these even is seeing these on their dash. What do they think? Do they see these and be like “oh god again that pathetic creature is whining some shit *eyeroll*” or do they just skip because idc.

I have so many times in my life felt like I am less than everyone else. It’s because when I was 13, my best friend turned out to be a narcissist (if that is possible for a 13-years-old) and we stopped being friends and eventually I made everyone else mad at me too and was alone, lonely and hated by everyone for a couple of years and your teens is the worst time for that to happen. I still don’t know if I was the villain or those girls. So I start feeling like a failure and worse than everyone very easily. AT some point I tried to get attention with my art but I didn’t succeed and I always felt like a failure then. “I should be better at arts, maybe I’d then be seen and approved.” During my worst time I actually thought I was relating to Garfield’ Jon so much and I legit thought I exist in this world only so that everyone else can feel a little bit better about themselves because there’s always at least one person who is worse than them. I literally felt like the meaning of my life was to make others feel better just because of how much of a loser I am. That’s why I feel sad when I see people getting asks all the time. I’m not really jealous or angry, I’m just sad because it just makes me remember how useless I am and how boring my life is and how bring absolutely nothing to this world and how... just invisible I am. I bet all ask posts have been on people’s dashes but no one just find me interesting enough to send questions. But I can’t blame them, because would I send myself asks if I was someone else and saw me on their dash? No. (Well, soon I will if no one else does, let’s see how out of my mind I will look for other people then lol.) I’d probably just unfollow my user because of what a pain in the ass I really am after all.

So whatever, a long post and useless blabber and just letting out some steam. I’ll go to watch some TV now and try to get over this. I’m also feeling like I hate Tumblr, I don’t want to come here to be disappointed because no one wants to know anything about me but I also can’t keep myself away from here because I want to know if I’ve got any asks because that would be some interesting stuff to do for my brains. So it’s like I have my hopes high only to be crushed in a minute and I keep doing this cycle every 5 minutes because I can’t decide if I should be a pessimist or an optimist.

Gosh, am I being selfish or what? I hate being selfish and I hate selfish people. But why am I still constantly talking about myself? Hypocrite much??? I wish I could unfollow the “blog” in my brains.

#mcrmadness' deep thoughts #oh look it's just me hating myself aka absolutely nothing to see here #personal #long post #rsd #or is that even rsd???

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dynamicduoau · 4 years

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Episode 2: Puppy Love

Summary: Logan Crofters lives his life by schedule. This changes one day though, when he makes one of his regular days to the Mystery Museum. After an argument, Virgil uses a power he never knew he had before. Now the three have to reverse it.

Words: 5544

Relationships: Platonic Moxiety, One-Sided Logicality, Platonic Analogicality

Notes: Original story here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20170951/chapters/47980744#workskin

Logan’s alarm clock went off right at 6am as it did every day. The thirteen-year-old got out of bed. His glasses were by his alarm clock, so he grabbed them and placed them on his face.

He walked to his bathroom and changed into the normal black polo, blue tie, blue sweater vest, and jeans. Logan grabbed his hair gel and slicked his hair back. All of it went back besides these two stubborn pieces by his ears. Once he finished, he walked down the stairs.

As usual, there was a note telling him that his parents have left already for work.

He thought that maybe today they could have driven him to the library. Though, Logan did not know why he thought that. They normally forgot when he asked, so what makes today any different?

With a sigh, he went grabbed his cereal.

He'd go to The Mystery Museum today. There were those two from yesterday, Virgil and Patton, he could talk to. Virgil seemed to be more reserve, but he also seemed to be the more intelligent of the two. Patton on the other hand was an odd person. He seemed to radiate sunshine and was full of emotions. The band of Logan’s existence. Still, they were two people that were Logan’s age, and maybe it would be best to talk to people his age. They were new to Gravity Falls, so they could not have that large of an opinion on him.

________________

Thomas had told Virgil to watch the giftshop while he ran some of the tours with Emile. Tours didn’t start for another hour, but Thomas need to stay at the front desk in case of any early customers. A regular tour took about two hours, so he had about three hours until someone came into the gift ship and human interaction began.

Instead of sitting in a chair, Virgil was sitting crisscross on the counter. It was lunchtime, but all Virgil had was his coffee that sat next to him. That was his fifth today. He didn’t get a lot of sleep last night, so coffee was the only thing that was keeping him running. The journal was on his lap. After he could go to sleep last night, he spent most of his time reading it.

A sandwich was placed next to his coffee as Patton went behind the desk and sat at the chair behind it. The sandwich was peanut butter and grape jelly. Virgil hated every other jelly flavor.

“Thanks, Pop Star,” Virgil said as he turned around on the counter, making sure to avoid spilling the coffee and sandwich. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you all day.”

Patton pulled at the polaroid camera on his neck, “Been working on our winter break scrapbook. Trying to incorporate this gnome bread hair.”

He pulled out a clump of white hair he had in his pocket. Virgil didn’t even remember when his brother took it.

“Why do you even have that?” Virgil asked in disgust.

Patton shrugged before stuffing it back into his pocket.

If Virgil wasn’t this tired, he would have been going on about the diseases that could come from that, but nope all he could think about was the journal and coffee.

He just sighed and took a bite from his sandwich.

Patton looked down at the journal, “Have you read more of it?”

“Yeah, I did during the night,” Virgil yawned. “Couldn’t sleep anyway.”

Patton looked him up and down, “How much sleep did you get last night?

“I don’t know,” Virgil sighed. “I couldn’t sleep with all the questions that were running through my head. Who is the author? What happened to them? Why was this book in the woods? So, in the end, I couldn’t sleep.”

His brother scolded, “Well, as your older brother, I say that you need to sleep tonight.”

“Five minutes, you are older by five minutes,” Virgil replied.

“That just means I have five more minutes of maturity,” Patton grinned. “Five minutes closer to adultery than you.”

“Patton, we talked about this,” Virgil rubbed his nose. “Besides, your face is covered in peanut butter.”

Patton began to rub his face with hand, trying to find any source of the mess on his face. Virgil just laughed, since there was nothing on his face. His brother was quick to figure it out and punched his knee.

That would teach him. Patton might be the older twin and the stronger twin and the more social twin…but Virgil was good at things too. Like he could recite any of MCR's and Evanescence's song.

“Salutations,” a voice came said from behind them.

“Ah!” Patton jumped, and Virgil rolled his eyes as he spun around to see Logan.

He looked just like he did yesterday. With his very nerdy outfit. Virgil didn’t understand what Patton saw in him. He just seemed like a guy that had a stick up his ass.

“Hi,” Virgil mumbled, placing his book back into his jacket pocket.

“Hello Logan,” Patton smiled.

Virgil sighed, Patton might like Logan, but Virgil was going to remain on his toes. After yesterday, he didn’t know what to except. Even if the guy didn’t try to force Patton into marriage, Virgil wasn’t going to take any chances. He could be some creepy scientist that wanted to dissect his brother's brain.

Nope, not going down that road again.

“So,” Patton smiled, “Logan, you come in everyday?”

“Mostly,” Logan replied. “With these weather conditions, I find it is better to walk here than walking to town.”

“Snow way you could get hurt,” Patton grinned.

"Did you just make a pun?" Logan asked.

Patton lifted his brow up grinning and even Virgil gave a chuckle.

"Of course I did," Patton smiled. "I'm just a punny guy. So, whatcha doing here?"

“I do not have anyone to talk to during the day, so I come here since it is closer than the town,” Logan shrugged turning around. “Human interaction is good for mental health.”

Patton frowned, “What about your parents?”

Logan shrugged, “They work for most of the day.”

“Well, you can always talk to us,” Patton grinned throwing his arms out.

Logan shook his head, “That is quite unlikely considering that once winter break is over you two will be gone.”

Patton frowned, “You can still talk to us.”

Logan raised an eyebrow, “And what would we talk about?”

Patton blinked, “Well, what is there to do around here? Virgil and I haven’t been around town yet.”

“Well, juvenile things like the arcade, laser tag, some fake psychics,” Logan listed off. “However, when I do go into town, I tend to go the library.”

It was official, Logan was a nerd. Though, the library seemed like a good idea. Not around too many people and a calm place where Virgil didn’t have to worry about his anxiety.

In Virgil’s mind, he wondered if Logan has seen anything strange around here. Maybe, he could give some information on what goes on around here.

“Have you ever seen anything strange here?” Patton asked.

Virgil wonder if Patton could read his mind. He could voice what Virgil wanted to know and couldn’t really get out.

“Strange? How?” Logan looked at him.

“Well,” Patton started. “We’ve heard some of the rumors around here, and it just makes a person curious.”

“I do agree that this town is strange, but everything here can have a logical explanation,” Logan replied. “A “werewolf” sighting is simply a dog. These rumors are the only thing that gets people to come to this town.”

“That didn’t answer the question,” Virgil mumbled. “Have you ever seen anything strange?”

“I have not seen anything strange. And anyone that believes these strange occurrences is just paranoid,” Logan shrugged.

Something sort of snapped in Virgil. You could call Virgil many things and he wouldn't care. Actually, you could call him anything, but that word. Sure, Logan didn't flat out say he was it, but he implied it.

Virgil's hands tightened into fists. Patton noticed and placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder, but Virgil shook it off.

He grinned, “Really? You have a logical explanation for everything, Logan? Why ships have been bitten and wreaked at the dock? Or the reports of hauntings at the abandoned grocery store?”

All of his anxiety was gone in his coffee fueled rage.

The two began to glare at each other.

“Okay,” Patton moved between the two. “Virgil, go get some coffee and please leave the salt out of it this time.”

Virgil just glared as he walked away.

He heard Logan say, “Who puts salt in their coffee?”

God, the guy was jerk. He knew he shouldn't be that overprotective of his brother, but Logan was making him so frustrated. Virgil was trying really hard to restrain himself, but it getting more and more difficult.

The emo filled his cup with coffee and chugged it down. He got another cup and brought it with him.

Once he returned to the gift shop, Patton grabbed his arm.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“He’s being a bit of a jerk,” Virgil shrugged as he sipped his coffee.

“You know I was joking about the coffee. Your heart is going to explode if you drink any more of it!” Patton whisper shouted.

Virgil simply shrugged, “Death will come when it does.”

Patton slapped a hand on his face, “Where is Thomas? He should be taking care of the gift shop?”

“He’s working the front,” Virgil shrugged. “Emile really needs to hire another person here or something.”

“So, do you really believe there are fantasy creatures in the middle of Gravity Falls?” Logan interrupted, tilting his head.

“Yes,” Virgil shrugged. “Can you completely prove that there is no such thing?”

“Well,” Logan looked down, “You have no proof of there being any supernatural creatures.”

Virgil had to restrain himself from pulling the journal out.

“Maybe there is,” Virgil replied. “No one has found it yet.”

Logan scoffed, “If someone made that big of a discover wouldn’t they want to share it with the world.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, “What if their life was in danger because they stumbled upon something so great, they had to run?”

The two glared at each other.

“Okay, everyone needs to calm down,” Patton smiled.

“I am perfectly calm,” Logan didn’t look away from Virgil. “He is the one that is not calm.”

It was then that Virgil hissed.

Three seconds passed.

“Did he just hiss at me?” Logan asked Virgil.

“I do that when I reach my limit of stupid,” Virgil replied, pouring the rest of the coffee in his mouth.

“I am not the one that is being stupid and paranoid,” Logan growled.

It was then that something happened. Virgil slipped a hand through his hair and he glared at the ground. Frustration filled him as he tightened his grip around his stomach.

Logan was looking at him in astonishment, while Patton looked at him in a fearful way.

“Um, son,” Patton started. “Your eye is glowing.”

Virgil looked up. He felt the familiar energy surround his eye. No one was frozen. No one was moving by force. Before he could say anything a large blast came from within him. And everything went black.

_________________

Patton’s arm sort of hurt as he got up. He hoped it was only bruised. Looking around, he saw his brother passed out on the ground. The older twin went over to him and checked on him, making sure Virgil had a pulse. Once he was sure, he decided that it would be best if he left him. His son did need his sleep. And it wouldn’t be the first time that Virgil passed out from that much power.

“Logan,” he called out. “Logan?”

There was rummaging and Patton turned around not seeing anyone.

“Oh, please don’t tell me he also has the power to wipe a person from the plane of reality too,” Patton squeaked as he looked around.

A bark caught his attention.

Patton looked down and there was a dog. He had black hair and blue eyes. Something was familiar about him, but he couldn’t quite place it. The good boy wasn’t that big, but he was fluffy. Patton didn’t know where he came from, but it was a puppy, so he could resist the urge to pet him.

“Who’s a good boy?” Patton reached out to pet the doggo, but it backs up.

When he tried to reach out again, the dog reached out to bit him and began to bark once more.

“AAAAAAAHHHH!” Patton jumped up.

That seemed to wake up Virgil as he mumbled and slowly sat up.

“Did I just pass out?” Virgil asked, groggily.

Patton was quick to get to his brother, “How are you feeling, bro?”

“My head hurts,” he rubbed it as he looked at the dog. “Why is there a dog here?”

Patton shrugged, “Don't know, but he’s mean and tried to bite my hand.”

“Um…where’s Logan?” he asked looking around. “Um... Patton? Why is there a pile of Logan’s clothing next to the dog? And why does the dog looks a lot like Logan?”

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

“AAHH!” the two screamed.

“How…what…when…Did I do that?” Virgil asked as he looked at the dog, Logan.

“What other explanation is there? It does sound pretty far-fetch,” Patton replied.

The dog tilted his head at the two. Defiantly him, Logan does that all the time.

Patton grabbed his brothers arm and pulled him over, “When could you change people into dogs?”

This is second time that some supernatural thing happened to his crushes. Though, this time Patton couldn't feel mad at his brother. It was a complete accident. A new power seemed to have formed within him. Or maybe he’s always had this power and something triggered it.

Virgil shrugged, “I didn’t know I could. I was just getting frustrated and boom.”

Patton turned, “Can you change him back?”

“I can't control my powers, and this new,” Virgil glared. “Maybe the book can help.”

His Misunderstood Shadowling began to scan through the book.

Patton moved back over to Logan, “Okay, Virgil is going to fix this. He just needs to figure out how to get you out of the dog days."

Logan only looked at him. Right, dogs could only talk in Patton's dreams. But…Virgil had telepathy, so maybe he could communicate to Logan instead. Back home when he read animal's minds, he told him it was strange. Like English but mixed with a bunch of gibberish. Since Logan is human, maybe he they could talk that way.

With that he ran out of the room and up to his shared room. He grabbed one of Virgil’s black hair bands that was lying on the table. With that he ran back downstairs with it.

“You put this one,” he puffed out as he gave his brother the hairband.

“Why?” he asked while looking at it.

“We can’t communicate with Logan,” Patton grinned. “He seems to still be Logan you should be able to read his mind. Mind sharing with him.”

Virgil tried to cover the small chuckle that came out.

Virgil slipped the band onto himself and pushed the book into his brother's hands, “Stop if it saw curse, magic, enchanted, or reverse.”

Patton nodded and began to scan through the book.

_________________

Virgil looked down at Logan.

“Okay, I’m going to try and see if this works,” Virgil mumbled. “You probably want an explanation.”

What did you do to me?!

“Well, I can’t really explain that,” Virgil replied. “You see I didn’t know I can change people into dogs until ten minutes. But I can do other things like freeze time, telepathy, and telekinesis. I just can’t really control them. I don’t know how I got them, but I do know that my eye is the source.”

Do you think I’m stupid?

“Do I think your stupid? No,” Virgil rolled his eyes. “I think your stubborn and arrogant. Besides, how do you explain that I can read your thoughts and that you’re a dog?”

Clearly, a gas leak is creating hallucinations.

“Okay, you stick with that,” Virgil got up moving the headbands so that it went behind his bangs instead. His hair covered his eye once again. He was done with Mr. Logic, “Find anything Popstar?"

“Fairies, witches, and Enchanted Lake,” Patton shook his head. “I don’t think we can find fairies and witches and a lake isn’t going to help us.”

“Enchanted Lake,” Virgil took the book finding the page. “Pat, it’s not a normal lake. It washes away curses and heals the body. Did you not read this all the way through?”

He boy pouted as he turned around, “I liked the fairies.”

“Okay, change of plans today. We are going to a lake in the middle of the forest,” Virgil replied. “Let’s just hope we can get back before the tour is over.”

“I’ll go grab some stuff,” Patton smiled, running upstairs to get whatever he thought they needed.

“Welp,” Virgil smiled. “Better wait for him.”

Soon enough, Patton reappeared carrying a backpack with him now. He knelt down and began shoving Logan's clothing into a backpack. His grappling hook was in the side pocket of the backpack.

“Wait,” Patton went up and pushed his brother's bangs back with the hairband. “Keep them pushed back, at least for today.”

He walked over the door, placing the journal back into his jacket pocket. When the other two didn't follow him, Virgil turned. Patton had knelt down while Logan growled at him.

I will not be carried.

“I hate to break it to you,” Virgil said. “But the snow is about a foot deep and you're teeny tiny. Let Pat carry you.”

“Yeah,” Patton added. “You’ll get cold.”

After a few minutes, Logan relented and Patton was able to carry him.

_____________

They've been walking for a total of thirty minutes and Virgil knew they were lost. The last time he read a map it was a family road trip and they got lost. Though, he blamed that on his parents since they were the ones that gave a seven-year-old the map to navigate. And, the trip ended up sucking anyway.

“If that’s that, and that’s that,” Virgil looked up at the map and at the forest. “We go that way.”

He pointed the west and began to walk. Patton was quick to follow his brother into the woods. Really, that was just a guess, but it was better than what they were doing right now.

“What if we see the gnomes again?” Patton asked.

“You kicked their butts yesterday, we won’t be seeing them for a while,” Virgil shrugged, as he looked at the book.

Wait? Gnomes?

“Yep, they wanted to marry Patton yesterday,” Virgil replied.

I do not follow.

“Patton explain yesterday’s predicament,” Virgil looked from the journal to get a sense of his where he was. He hoped he could figure out where he was.

“Oh, so after you left the store, I meet this really cute guy named Norman and I went out with him. He was so nice and sweet, but Virgil didn’t like him and thought he was a zombie…” he went on about him getting kidnapped and Virgil coming in saving him from the gnomes, but they turned into a giant gnome.

You know the rest.

Virgil traced his hand on a tree, “We need to find a twisted looking tree.”

Patton looked around, “I don’t see one.”

“Hello,” a voice said from behind them.

Virgil was fast to turn. There was a young woman in front of them. She had short dark brown hair that had loose curls. The ends were dyed blond. She had piercing green eyes and tan skin. What got Virgil was the black dress she was wearing. It went down to her knees. The only thing on her feet were a pair of sandals that's straps went up her legs.

Virgil knew that whatever she was, she wasn’t human. Virgil hugged the journal closer to his chest. It gave him some comfort.

“Hi,” Patton smiled. “We’re looking for an Enchanted Lake for my friend.”

He gestured to Logan.

She looked at the human-turned-dog, “Oh, what happened to him?”

“My brother…” Patton stopped himself from continuing. “We need to reverse a curse on our friend and the Enchanted Lake is the only thing that can help him.”

She nodded, “Yes, but I’m not going to let you near it.”

“What…” before anyone could move, she threw back a hand sending them all flying.

Large, feathered wings moved out from her back as she walked over to Virgil. The journal had fallen out of his hands. He managed to get up, but she was quickly advancing.

“I see human in you,” she gazed at him. “But I sense something that I’ve never sensed in any other human before.”

Virgil stumbled back, “Stay away from me.”

He fell. Virgil began to scoot back while in the snow. Snow seeped into his clothing as he stared at her. His chest began to tighten. When she was no more than a foot away from Virgil his eye began to glow purple and she froze him her spot.

He gathered the journal back into his hands and ran back to his brother.

“We have to go,” Virgil began move.

They began to run. Logan still in Patton’s arms.

“What is she?” Patton asked, as Virgil looked through the book.

“A fae or fairy,” Virgil replied. “They protect certain parts of the forests. Some live in groups, while others stay isolated.”

“A fairy?!" the other asked in awe.

"She's trying to kill us!" Virgil glared as they continued running.

"Why doesn’t the Enchanted Lake page talk about them?” Patton asked, switching the topic.

“I don’t know, maybe they weren’t there when the Author found it,” Virgil replied.

A growl came and suddenly the fae was behind them. She pushed Virgil to the ground and pushed Patton and Logan away from them with her other hand. The journal slipped from his grip and fell somewhere he couldn’t see. He tried his hardest to fight her, but her hands came around his arms and pinned him to the ground.

“I wonder,” she stared down at Virgil, “Not many can overpower me, but you did. Yet you can’t protect yourself from me now.”

He kicked out, “Don’t touch me!”

Suddenly, something hit her in the side of sending her off of Virgil. She hissed in pain.

Patton was glaring at the fairy. In his right hand was the grappling hook and in the other was the journal. Logan had been set on the ground, growling at her.

Once he felt the grip on him slip Virgil ran to the two.

His brother aimed the grappling hook at the fae again, continuing his glare. She glared back at him, and stood back up. There was a visible red splotch on her cheek.

Virgil took that as a sign to pick Logan off the ground.

“Don’t touch my brother!” Patton yelled, keeping his aim.

“What are you going to do?” she laughed, the red spot on her cheeks began to leave.

They did the only thing that they could. The trio ran as far as they could before she could grabbed them again.

They stopped behind a tree, lying flat against it. Logan was held tighter in Virgil's arms. Beside him, Pat had the grappling hook in his hands, ready in case she attacked them again.

What just happened?

“Shush,” Virgil whispered trying to keep his breath even.

“Where are you?” she flew in. "You can't hide from me."

They were behind the tree for a few seconds. Her footsteps crushed in the snow. The fae was getting closer and closer. Virgil stopped breathing. Logan began to tremble. Patton tightened his grip on his grappling hook. She couldn't have been more than ten feet away now.

A snap and a scream made them jump.

Patton was the first to turn around. Followed by Virgil and Logan.

Once they saw that she was stuck in a bear trap, the two looked snapped back to hiding. Virgil didn't remember seeing that when they were running for their lives, but to be fair they had bigger things on their minds. He was just happy that none of them had ran into it instead. They'd all be dead right now.

"She's stuck," Patton whispered.

“Fae’s can’t touch iron,” Virgil mumbled what he remembered from the journal. “It’s their weakness. Steel is an alloy of iron and carbon.”

“We can’t leave her,” Patton turned. “She’s in pain.”

“Pat, she's trying to hurt us," Virgil reasoned, but the look that Patton gave him made Virgil sigh, “Fine.”

They walked towards the fae with caution. Her eyes snapped up at them. She wasn’t pushing them back, so Virgil guessed that the trap weakened her powers. She struggled to get her leg free, but that only caused her more pain. She gave a small moan of pain and stopped her struggles, but she still had her guard up.

“We’re only here to help,” Patton reasoned he placed both hands up.

“Stay away,” she weakly gasped.

Virgil set Logan next to him and he followed the twins.

“We can help you get out,” Virgil replied.

Slowly, she let them come closer, but her eyes didn't leave them.

Patton knelt down and Virgil did the same.

Logan bark getting Virgil’s attention.

Ask if she can move her foot.

“Can you move your foot any?” Virgil asked.

She nodded slowly, while moving her foot around.

Virgil, you need to push down on the springs. When there is enough of an opening have here slip her leg out. Tell Patton to grab her hand, it is going to hurt.

“I’m going to push down on the springs. Patton hold her hand. Slip you’re foot out as soon as you can,” Virgil took a breath as he began to apply pressure to the springs.

Patton wrapped both of his hands around hers.

She gave a small noise as it began to open. Her grip tightening on Pat's hand. Virgil pushed down as hard as he could, creating enough of a space for her to pull her leg free. Once everyone was away from the trap, Virgil let the thing slam shut. He looked over to the fae, who's leg was bloody and slightly bruised, but he can see that it was beginning to heal by itself.

“Thank you,” she smiled. “How did you know that?”

“Logan told me,” Virgil replied pointing at him.

“You can communicate with him?” she asked.

Virgil nodded, “He’s human, just doesn’t look like it.”

She looked at all three of them. They gave her enough room to adjust herself and let her wings stretch out.

“You have no intention of hurting my people?” she asked.

“No, we really are just trying to help Logan,” Patton replied.

She gave them a sincere smile as he flew herself up a little bit to keep herself from using the injured leg.

“Thank you,” she turned towards them. “You could have left, but instead you helped me. Come, I will take you to the Enchanted Lake, so that you can reverse the curse on your friend.”

Patton had placed his grappling hook back in his backpack and handed the journal back to Virgil. He placed it in back in his jacket pocket and stood up. Pat had gathered Logan in his arms as they began to follow her.

“What are your names? I’m Rae,” she said.

“I’m Patton,” Patton stated. “This is my twin brother, Virgil. And this is our friend, Logan.”

She nodded as she took them to a lake that seemed to glow green.

Other fairies flew around.

“Here it is the Enchanted Lake,” she smiled. “You three are welcome here anytime.”

“Thank you,” Patton smiled. “I’m sorry about hitting you, I thought you were going to hurt my brother.”

“And I’m sorry about freezing you, that just happens sometimes,” Virgil replied.

“And I’m sorry for chasing you,” Rae smiled.

Patton took Logan and placed him at the edge of the lake.

He jumped in and after a few seconds he reemerged human again.

“That was not ideal,” Logan said and looked down. “I am not clothed.”

“We packed you’re clothing and a towel,” Patton pulled off the backpack. “We’ll turn around.”

Five minutes later, Logan was completely clothed.

"Goodbye," Rae waved to them.

“Bye. Thank you again, Rae,” Patton smiled.

“Thanks,” Virgil waved.

“Thank you and goodbye,” Logan thanked as he followed the twins.

They walked through the woods.

“I’m sorry about earlier,” Virgil mumbled. “I...OH GOD! Someone knows!”

“I am the only person that knows?” he asked.

“Other than Patton,” Virgil hugged the journal. “I want to understand them, but they're just so random. My brother falls and I can catch him with telepathy, but the when I focus on trying to use them, I can't.

“Well, I will not tell anyone," Logan replied. "I'm sorry, I caused you distress."

Virgil gave a small smile, "It's fine."

Patton smiled, “You two are getting along now!”

They remained quiet for the rest of the trip. Though, Virgil didn't find this silence uncomfortable. It was more of a comforting one.

When the trio returned back to the museum, Virgil placed the journal behind the counter and tied his hoodie around his waist. He hoped that it covered some of the wet spots on him. They had thirty minutes before any of the tour groups came in.

“I’m going to go get a snack,” Patton announced before leaving for the two alone.

Once he knew that Patton was gone, Virgil knew he had to say it. It wasn't like he could hold it back anymore.

Virgil sighed, “My brother is fragile person and for some reason he has taken a liking to you. Now I understand if you don’t want to be anywhere near me anymore, but can you please not do the same to Patton. He takes it hard when people he cares about just turn on him. If I see you in the store, I’ll go in the opposite direction, and you'll never have to see me again.”

Logan took that in for a second, “Today was not ideal, but in all honesty, it has probably been one of the best days of my life. Most days I spend them either looking through useless junk or reading books I have already read before or just staying home. Today, I did something.”

Virgil found himself aghast, “Does that mean you’re not going to spray me with holy water.”

“Friends do not spray each other with holy water,” Logan stated.

Virgil gave him a look, “We’re friends?”

“Today you proved me wrong,” Logan looked down. “I mean this has all been under my nose and I haven't noticed. Maybe I could help you with your abilities. You opened my eyes up. I have to consider someone like that as a friend.”

“How are you going to help me?” Virgil questioned. Not that he didn't like it. It's just that he's tried for so long to understand them, he doubted that Logan would be able to crack the mystery that was Virgil's powers. He's been at it for a while, and he was never able to figure it out.

“I find experiments invigorating,” Logan replied.

“I get to be your lab rat?” Virgil shrugged. “You know what, I’ll do it.”

Maybe Logan Crofters wasn't that bad of a guy after all.

Patton returned and took a bit of a sandwich, “Are we all friends now?”

The two looked at each other, nodding.

Patton pulled them into a group hug. With a lose hand he pulled out his polaroid and snapped a couple of pictures of them.

“Thank goodness!” Patton squealed. "I need photos, so I never forget this!"

“Patton,” Virgil gasped. “Can’t…breath…”

“Sorry,” he smiled and released the two and collected the photos that had fallen out.

“I got to get behind the desk,” Virgil smiled as he jumped up on the counter. “Customers are going to start to come in.”

“We should take more photos,” Patton held up his polaroid again.

“Is he always like this?” Logan leaned towards Virgil.

“Yep, but you got to admit it’s pretty cute,” Virgil shrugged.

Logan nodded, “It is.”

Virgil grinned at the blush that formed on his brother’s cheeks. If Patton and Logan ever got together, Virgil approved of it.

____________

When Logan returned home later that evening, he placed his trench coat on the coat hanger. From the lack of other coats, there was no one else home. He took off his boots and went to start making dinner.

He pulled out a polaroid photo from his pocket. Patton gave it to him before he left. Virgil was behind the register a little bit startled from Patton grabbing him around the neck. Logan had been pulled in from the side by Patton. Patton was in the middle grinning.

Logan smiled a little before placing the photo on the refrigerator. He didn't know what he has just gotten himself into, but he did not regret it.

#dynamic duo #dynamic duo AU #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #Emile Picani #thomas sanders #gravity falls

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cookinguptales · 5 years

Text

You know, the older I get, the more I believe that we need to tell people when we appreciate who they are and what they’ve done. I feel like we all have a lot of anxiety about that, but I do think it’s worth pushing through it because we all have a lot of anxiety about ourselves, too. I think if we were all honest with each other about what we appreciate, people might feel better about themselves and their accomplishments.

It’s genuinely hard to do, to be honest. I’ve been forcing myself to do it more and more lately, but it’s still hard. If I hear a band I like, I try to approach them after their show or on social media to tell them how much I enjoyed it. I’ve written a few letters to authors and other creatives, too. Their work has meant a lot to me throughout my life, and I think the kindest thing I can do in return is to tell them that. But it’s still scary to show off the vulnerable parts of yourself like that. You feel foolish for loving something, you feel foolish talking to someone that’s made something that speaks to you. What if you embarrass yourself? What if they’re mean? What if you get hurt? It’s a lot.

And sometimes it’s even scarier if you actually know the person. If they’re a friend or a family member or someone else that you love. Then you’re opening yourself up to a person whose opinion means a lot to you, and you have to risk vulnerability in that relationship. It’s scary and anxiety-inducing and kind of embarrassing to admit that something or someone has touched you deeply.

But I have to tell you, it never actually feels embarrassing once I’ve done it. Whether it’s telling someone in the grocery store how much you like their dress or telling a creative what a good job they did or telling a friend how much you appreciate [x] quality of theirs or telling a parent that you’ve always loved [x] about them. No one’s ever responded negatively to me. No one makes fun of me for caring “too much”. Everyone just seems kind of surprised and happy.

We’re all just trying our best, y’know? So many of us always feel like we’re not doing enough, so it’s a little shocking when someone tells us that what we’ve already done means something to them. And while it’s anxiety-inducing to tell people how much they mean to us, especially if they’re strangers, it’s also shockingly easy to make someone happy. Sometimes I think we just assume that people know they’re good at a certain thing, that people have got their lives together and don’t have anxieties because they’re so nice or smart or accomplished. But hey, we’re a goddamn neurotic species, and most people don’t know. And telling them is a kind thing to do.

idk man. Life is short. When someone does something great, just tell them it’s great. Open yourself up, because it would be wonderful if someone opened themselves up to you, too. And once someone has opened themselves to you, don’t just dismiss the compliment because you don’t know how to deal with it. Take the compliment. Then pay it forward and compliment someone else. Try to be genuine yourself and accept genuineness from other people. It’s hard! It’s really freaking hard! But wow, I think it would help us so much.

Note: I am not advocating being a creep to someone or invading their personal space! Do this in a non-creepy way! Don’t catcall people or harass them online! But a simple statement of non-sexualized admiration or gratitude, done without any expectation of further attention or recompense, is usually taken as it is, and people appreciate that. (I mean, it can be sexualized if you’re talking to someone you have sex with. But you know what I mean, lmao.)

#I'VE JUST BEEN THINKING A LOT LATELY #and then posting things at ass o'clock at night on tumblr #as you do #long post #just me #plus it's so easy to be negative when you have mental illness #I've tried a lot of things in life to combat that #but really the best thing you can do is just put aside what you don't like and focus on what you do #and APPRECIATE what you do #it's easy to let bad things overshadow good things but it sucks to give them that much power #¯\_(ツ)_/¯

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bimbostudies · 5 years

Photo

fun might be a stretch here i’m not gonna lie, but ever since i started waking up at 5 am i’ve been a generally happier person! i know this sounds like a nightmare but the mornings, i’ve noticed, are a space of so much potential. especially if you’re in college, getting up early can be great because you can have a few hours to yourself before your roommate wakes up, and you can get a head start on your day and overall be more productive later on.

convinced? great! here’s how to do it, and some suggestions for what to do with all your extra time.

THE NIGHT BEFORE

set an alarm: assuming your body doesn’t naturally wake up at 5 (if it does, rock on), an alarm is gonna be necessary. but there are ways to do this to maximize impact.

sleepyti.me: this website calculates the length of your sleep cycles and allows you to see when you’ll be in your lightest sleep (a.k.a., when it’ll be easiest to wake up).

have roommates/living with family? perfect. Get a loud alarm clock and set it up close to where your roommate sleeps. Set that alarm for 5:01. Set your phone alarm for 5:00. (make sure the clocks are lined up). when you wake up, you’re gonna jet on over to that other alarm as soon as you wake up, and the adrenaline is gonna wake you right up.

If you don’t have a roommate, you can still utilize a similar system. Set an alarm, and put it across the room. It’s gonna be a lot harder to hit snooze when you’ve already walked that far.

make a to do list: listing out things you want to get done/need to get done the next morning are going to give you more motivation when you wake up. while sleeping is gonna be tempting, psyching yourself up for the next day will help you get up. Scroll down for an example of what I like to do when I get up early!

this is gonna make me sound like a real caucasian suburban mom but I really really love pinterest for to do list inspo. If you can find a specific recipe you wanna try for making breakfast that’s gonna be more exciting than just writing “breakfast”

I would also recommend setting out your outfit for tomorrow ! Looking at makeup looks you wanna try if you wear makeup!! If you don’t, that is wonderful and congratulations on being freed from the confines of human performance in that way I wish that was me so badly!

generally, just do anything to get you excited about starting tomorrow. hype yourself up bitch ur gonna look cute and have a great day !!!!!

straighten up your space: take 15 minutes before bed to straighten up your room. stack your books, put clothes in the hamper, and just generally declutter.

I have adhd and I literally hate cleaning so much but I hate mess even more, so waking up to a neat room makes me feel less overwhelmed and more in control of my life

A lot of people clean in the morning, which is also valid, but if you’re telling yourself that you’re gonna do that because of procrastination, do not listen! That voice is the devil

self care: this is a meaningless term at this point, but what I generally mean is make yourself feel fresh. Take a shower, wash your face, brush your teeth, take a hot second to change into pajamas instead of sleeping in your clothes. You’re gonna sleep better if you give yourself transition space to let your brain adjust to the fact that you’re going to sleep.

drink a big ass glass of water right before you go to bed. you’re gonna need to pee the next morning so badly that your body will literally not let you go back to sleep. unpleasant? maybe. but the hydration is good for you.

sleep! Honestly sleeping is one of the sexiest parts of the day and getting a good night’s rest is gonna be a real game changer. I recommend shooting for at least 6 hours, but if you’re able to go to bed earlier, don’t just stay up because! Get some rest

THE MORNING OF

once your alarm has gone off, get up and do not get back into bed. I like to aim for at least 20 minutes of moving around before I even touch my bed again, but some people make their bed as soon as they get up to discourage going back to sleep. Also a valid point.

stretch! Once you’re up, stretch your core by putting interlocking your fingers and raising your hands into the air. This always feels so nice after just waking up

head to the bathroom: if you have long hair, put it up. Otherwise, splash some cold water on your face, brush your teeth, do your skincare routine if you have one (i recommend having one! Even if it’s just washing your face and putting on some cheap lotion from the beauty aisle of the grocery store). It’ll help you get ~into the zone~

If you’re into it, work out! i rarely work out, I’m not gonna lie to y’all, but I’ll occasionally go to the fitness center in my dorm. If I’m feeling extra motivated, I’ll bring some notes or reading to look at while I’m on the elliptical/cycling machine/treadmill because exercising actually helps you process things better.

yoga: yoga is a super nice workout in the morning because it doesn’t need to be super intensive. It’s good if you’re feeling already awake, but I would avoid any routines that include corpse pose/child’s pose if you’re feeling a bit sleepy still.

dance: dance is so nice! There’s a barre in my workout facility, and I sometimes head to do a barre workout while I listen to some upbeat music. I’m also a big fan of just dancing around in my room in the mornings, and I definitely did that more before I had a roommate lol

running/walking: running and walking (especially with a pet!) is a great way to start the day! It gets you outside into the cold, which will wake you up, and it can be pretty cathartic. I don’t usually run in the mornings just because it’s dark this time of year and it can be kinda unsafe, but if you’re comfortable with going on a run or you live in an area that’s safe enough, it’s awesome! Always take pepper spray and your phone though !

easier alternatives: do ten jumping jacks, stars, or run in place for a minute. Anything that gets your blood flowing is gonna make it easier to sleep.

ake your time getting ready! now that you’re up early, you don’t have to rush around trying to get your makeup on on time, or throwing together an outfit in the two minutes you have before the bus comes. Take your time. Treat it like a ritual. Get ready intentionally. You’re going to feel more put together and you’re gonna feel like the stunner you are and that’s gonna make you feel more confident going into the day!

make your bed: this is one of the best things to do in the morning because it’s low risk, high reward! Making your bed takes like five minutes max, but when you get home your room is gonna look 300% neater and you’re gonna feel so much better.

go over your schedule: finish any last minute things you’re gonna need for the day, whether that’s printing assignments, putting your name on your worksheet, or remembering to bring a specific book to class.

pack your bag: related to the above, take the time to pack your bag. Do you have your chargers? Your headphones? Your notebooks? Your pencil case? Having time to do this thoughtfully instead of rushing is gonna make it less likely you forget something important!

breakfast: for the love of god, eat breakfast. If you’re up early, you have literally no excuse not to. It can be as easy as some toast with jam or as complicated as apple cinnamon pancakes with two different side dishes. Whatever it is, make something yummy to fuel you for the rest of your day.

pack a lunch: making lunch at home will save you a lot of money which rocks, especially if you’re a college student supporting yourself. It’s also a lot more convenient because you don’t need to spend time waiting in line for food or walking to a place to eat.

get to school/wherever you need to be early: I know, at this point you might think I’m a lunatic but there are a lot of benefits to getting to school early, even if it means you have to wait in the parking lot for a bit.

traffic is more manageable earlier in the morning: if you leave only when you absolutely have to, you’re gonna end up on the road at the same time as every clown and their mother, and it’s gonna take you a lot longer. For example, in high school, if I left at 6:45 I would get to campus by 7:05. But if I left by 7:15, I would get there a few minutes before 8. Not sexy!

Less anxiety! If you leave early, you’re guaranteed to get to class on time, without the heart attack of praying that the bus driver or the person in front of you on the freeway starts flooring it. When you’re early, you have that time to yourself, and you don’t have to feel like you’re in a rush.

once you’re there, find somewhere to hang out and read/get some work done! I like to review any notes I took to prepare for a lecture the morning before to refresh myself. It’s not necessary, but it helps!

If you’re reading this and thinking gosh, what an absolute nerd! that’s fair. You can spend this time on social media if you’d like, or reading, or listening to a podcast/audiobook!

This is your time, you earned it. And by the time your day starts, you’re gonna feel like you’ve already done so much that you’re ready to take on anything that gets thrown at you.

okay I hope you all enjoyed this advice! let me know if there’s any other master posts you’d like to see me do :)

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tonystarkstan · 5 years

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tips for bad brain days

I know sometimes it’s easier to just not eat at all, but you gotta. So when it’s hard to really commit to eating, there are a couple things you can do:

Stick to easy foods, like soup. I typically keep ramen, tomato soup, and a few other canned/packaged soups in my dorm. They’re light and take the least effort to consume.

Clif bars are your friend. They’re small, pretty tasty (depending on your flavor preferences), and they pack plenty of protein. If you can’t eat it all at once, that’s okay! Small bites at a time.

Nuts such as almonds, cashews, and pistachios are always a great way to go. Trail mix, too.

I also keep protein shakes in my dorm. A lot of them aren’t very tasty, but Ensure is actually pretty bearable. Preferable, even. Even small sips are good. Your body needs the protein.

For me, sleep is generally hard to come by, but it’s especially worse when my brain wants to attack me. A few things I do to try to sleep:

A white noisemaker. We keep one in our dorm and I almost can’t sleep without it. The extra, soft noise almost works like a sponge and soaks up a lot of stray thoughts. (shhh I know I sound crazy) You can buy these in stores, but since they’re pretty expensive, there are apps for them too. Or you can just use a fan.

Play music, but only instrumental. At least for me, I find lyrics to be distracting because my brain wants to sing along with them. There are plenty of piano tracks and sleep playlists on YouTube. A lot of the tracks from The Theory of Everything movie put me right to sleep.

I know it’s easier to just be on your phone and scroll mindlessly through social media, but don’t. It keeps your brain stimulated and definitely won’t help you sleep. Keep your phone away.

I know it’s easier to isolate yourself and stay in bed, laying in the dark, but try not to. Alternatives to sleeping the day away include:

Going for a walk. It sounds lame, but fresh air and sunlight seriously do wonders. And if you have a dog - even better! Take them with you, I’m sure they’d be thrilled.

Watch your favorite movie! Sometimes facing our world is too much, especially on the bad days. Disappear into a world you love. (But only for a little bit! We need you here!!)

Don’t isolate yourself. Talk to a friend. It doesn’t have to be about anything sad or depressing. Just ask how they are, start a conversation. Just hearing their voice is often enough to remind you that you’re not alone.

I know I’m REALLY bad about not drinking water even on a good day, so I’m perpetually dehydrated which means I always feel at least kind of awful. On bad days, it’s just that much worse. Things I’m working on to stay hydrated:

Sounds simple, but always keep a water bottle with you. I don’t really ever feel thirsty, but that doesn’t mean my body doesn’t need the water. If I see a bottle on my desk during class, usually I’m like, “Oh, I should probably drink.”

You can buy water flavorings from just about any grocery store. I prefer the liquid that you squeeze a small portion into your water. It’s not the healthiest thing in the world, but it’s tasty enough that it keeps you drinking.

Don’t drink. Don’t do drugs. Don’t self-harm. I know that seems like it’d go without saying but all of those are forms of self-destruction and escapism. In the end, they’ll do more harm than good. Healthier alternatives:

Draw. I’m terrible at drawing, but I really love taking a pen or marker and drawing henna designs on my arms and legs when I feel the itch to self-destruct. Obviously avoid permanent markers. Pens aren’t the healthiest for skin but alas. If it helps you get through the day, it’s worth it.

This is going to sound weird, but this calms anxiety for me, big time. Take a small square of crinkled aluminum foil and put it on a flat, hard surface. Then methodically use your nail to gently scratch it flat until it’s almost reflective.

Braid or make bracelets out of string. Keep your hands and mind busy.

Read!! Reading is so great, because it takes you out of your head for a little bit. Live through a character that isn’t you.

Writing is great too! Even if you’re not writing a story, write letters to people or make lists of things you love, things you want to do in the future, and things you’re looking forward to.

Bake! The results are great, and comfort foods are the best. Keep your hands and mind busy by working on a recipe and then reap the rewards with brownies or cookies or whatever it is you made. Bonus if you make them for other people, because then you just feel like a nice person (but hey! you already are!!).

Talk to someone. Tell a trusted friend, teacher, parent, or sibling that you’re not feeling great. Or even if you can’t do that, just make an effort to be around good people who won’t let you do anything that could hurt yourself.

Whenever I’m really messed up, I genuinely don’t want to do anything. This goes as far as not wanting to brush my hair, teeth or take a shower. So basically:

If you can, take a long bath! It’s so relaxing, especially if you play your favorite music. The cleaner you are, the better you’ll feel about yourself - mentally and physically.

Brushing your hair and teeth also apply to this. It’s hard to feel good about anything if you feel physically grimy.

Dress up! Girl, you wanna wear that cute top and skirt? Wanna wear a dress? Go for it! You don’t need a special occasion to strut your stuff. Do your makeup, paint your nails, curl your hair. If you’re a guy, you can totally do those things too! Wear that nice button up, slick your hair back or not at all. Do what makes you feel good about yourself!

Songs for bad brain days (Note: it’s best not to listen to sad music. I know it’s relatable but it really doesn’t do much to actually help):

A Light in the Hallway by Pentatonix

You Will Be Found from Dear Evan Hansen

It Comes Back to You by Imagine Dragons

Saturn by Sleeping At Last

You Are Enough by Sleeping At Last

Rainbow by Kesha

Stay Alive by José González

Move (Keep Walkin’) by Toby Mac

These aren’t all foolproof, but they’re all things I try to keep in mind on my bad days, so I thought I’d compile a list and share it with you guys. I hope someone is able to find some of these tips helpful. Self-care is hard and it’s not always pretty. Please take care of yourselves. I’m a bit of a hypocrite, but reach out if you can.

It’s going to be okay.

#if you have anything you want to add feel free #Hope talks #Hope is an idiot tbh #tbh this is all more of a note to self #i love you #tw self harm #depression #mental health #mental illness #anxiety #bad brain day #self-care #self-love

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choking-on-tae · 7 years

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Panic disorder

Pairing: Seokjin x Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Summary:

Seokjin is often away due to his busy schedule. You've always been dealing with panic attacks and self esteem issues. Seokjin being the supportive boyfriend he is offered to help you and told you that he'd always be there for you when you need him. However, not only does he not have a lot of time to message you, he also isn't there in person. Your panic attacks and anxiety were fine when Seokjin was around you but ever since he left to go on tour it's gotten worse. You didn't want to tell him because you're scared you'll only make him worry more. You know he's really trying the best he can but sometimes you need someone who's there in person.

Genre: Angst, Fluff.

Author’s note: If you’ve seen this one around before it’s because I’ve uploaded it to Wattpad before but took it down. x

Panic attacks and anxiety have become a part of your life ever since you were depressed. You've gotten over your depression but still have some anxiety about things. You were never really a very social person or someone to randomly talk to strangers on the street but since you've gotten more anxious that scares you to beyond. It's nowhere near where it used to be but still it bothers you. Seokjin knows about your anxiety, so you were very grateful that he was the one who started the conversation the first time you met. You had just gotten back from your final therapy session and were excited to go home again. Your past year had been a total roller coaster. You were put on meds, couldn't sleep at all at night and were so ridiculously stressed about every little thing.

You met Seokjin on your way home. Well, actually he ran into you. He was carrying two cups of coffee and spilled them, mainly on you, when he bumped into you. Literally. He apologized instantly and offered to take you to his place to wear one of his shirts. You told him that he didn't have to do that but he insisted. So that's how you ended up in his apartment. He let you take a shower and gave you one of his shirts to wear. During the past year you didn't really give love a try. You weren't dating or looking for anyone, but when you met Seokjin that all changed. You started to feel butterflies again and fell head over heels in love with him. Luckily for you he felt the exact same way.

What started of as a cute romance soon became true love. It had to happen anyways, especially since Seokjin is so buzzy. He really has the best personality. He always tries to put you first, because you're simply his everything. He always checks up on you, if you sleep well, if you eat properly and how you're doing. You told him about your mental conditions and to your surprise he took it surprisingly well. You expected him to back out and drop you but he did the exact opposite. He made even more time for you and checked up even more often than he already did. When Seokjin was around you were doing just fine. You got a job at your local dog cafe, continued your study and if you needed comfort your loving boyfriend was there for you.

Now that he's on tour, you don't have that luxury anymore. All you can do is videochat or call each other. It honestly breaks you, that you can't lay in his arms as you try to fall asleep. You didn't tell Seokjin that your mental condition is doing worse again. You don't wanna seek professional help just yet because of your stubborn nature, so you lie. You don't want to lie to him but at the same time you don't want him to worry even more about you then he already does. So you cropped it all up until now. Now you're laying in your bed, wearing one of Seokjin's pink hoodies as you cry yourself to sleep.

It all happened a couple of weeks ago, right after he left. He told you he'd be back in 6 months, and you assured him that you'd be fine. Which wasn't a lie at the time. You honestly thought that you were doing just fine, but little did you know that that was all thanks to Seokjin. Once he left it all went downhill. Your job which you really enjoyed became something you dreaded going to. Your study which you were doing great at suddenly became all too much. You had to stop, again. Your counselor talked to you about your mental health and he said that it was probably best if you quit your studies for now to focus on your mental health and your panic attacks. Speaking of, they've only gotten worse. Even the slightest things make you panic.

For example going to the grocery store to get some food. It sounds absolutely ridiculous to someone who doesn't deal with it. Seokjin has been gone for exactly 6 months now, and it's really been the worst 6 months of your life. He told you he'd be back soon, but what's soon? 'Soon' can be tomorrow, a week from now, 2 months from now even. So you've just given up on waiting for him and tried to make the best out of every single day, taking your meds every day so the attacks don't get worse. You try to quiet down your sobs as you wipe the tears away, or at least try to since you can't really stop crying. Right that moment you see your phone screen light up. Seokjin's name flashing on the screen. You quickly lock it again before putting your phone back on the nightstand. You hug your knees to your chest as you let it all out. Your not so quiet anymore sobs now echoing through the empty apartment.

You try to get your breathing back to normal and to not fall into another panic attack, which if it would happen would be the third one of the day, and you really don't want that. So you try with all your will to pull yourself back together. You don't notice the bedroom door opening, as you're still too buzzy with trying to pull yourself together. Your shaky breath still echoing through the silent bedroom. It isn't until you hear a couple of bags drop and a quiet voice that you look up.

"Jagiya, what's going on?"

Your eyes grow wide when you see Seokjin standing there with an extremely worried expression on his face. You try to form some words as he takes a seat on the bed, moving over so he's sitting right in front of you. His big eyes staring into yours, desperately trying to find answers. You climb in his lap and you let the tears stream down your face, breaking down completely.

"Aish Jagi, you should have told me that you weren't doing okay." He groans as he gently runs his fingers through your hair, trying to comfort you as he pulls you tighter against him.

You know he hates it when you're not being honest with him but you couldn't bring yourself to tell him how bad you were actually doing. He slowly pulls back to wipe your tears away before he presses his soft lips against yours for a brief moment.

"Baby, why didn't you tell me what was going on? I knew something wasn't right, but I didn't want to force you to tell me." He says as he quiet down a bit.

"Seokjin, i'm so s-sorry. I-I really wanted to tell you but I.. I didn't want you to worry about me t-too. Y-You've enough to w-worry about already."

"Aish Jagiya! Take care of yourself for once please! Next time i'm just gonna drag you with me on tour. We'll figure something out with your study. I-"

"-I stopped." You softly mumble.

His eyes grow wide instantly, as he asks "What, why?"

You take a deep breath as you wrap your arms around his neck. His arms instantly wrapping around the small of your back, pulling you as close to him as possible.

"I talked to my counselor. He told me to focus on my mental health and to just let me study for what it is right now." You bring out, scared of being judged.

"Ah baby. It's gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay. I'm here now, and i'm gonna take care of you. Do you want something to eat? I can make your favorite! I can make-"

"-Seokjin!" You giggle, interrupting his ranting. He always does that when he's nervous or excited about something.

"I really appreciate you taking care of me Seokjin, but I'm not hungry at all. Can we just lay in bed and cuddle? It's kind of late."

His eyes land on the clock on the nightstand, before he nods in agreement.

"Yes that sounds good." He gently pushes you onto your back as he climbs on top of you. Brushing some of your hair out of your face in the process.

"I know you sometimes feel like you're a burden to me, but you're not at all. Jagiya I love you so much. Just please tell me when you feel bad and when you're not okay. You're just coming with me the next time I've to leave for a long time. Okay?"

You softly nod at his words as he leans in, his dark brown eyes staring into your own eyes.

His plump lips gently brush against your own, before he presses them properly against your own. Seokjin's kisses are pretty much always soft as gentle, this time isn't any different. He somehow always manages to kiss you with just passion and love that it almost makes you melt. It's one of his many ways of letting you know how much he loves you.

"Princess, I love you so much. Please don't ever do this to me again, okay?"

You softly nod at his words as you feel yet another tear escape from the corner of your eye.

"Are you mad at me?"

You ask, scared for the answer. You know Seokjin doesn't get mad very easily but when he does he is really angry and it's absolutely terrifying.

"Baby, i'm not mad at you. I'm just a little disappointed that you didn't tell me, I wish I would've caught up on it."

"Yah."

You take his face in between your hands as you press a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"You did nothing wrong. You're the perfect boyfriend. Honestly you're so wonderful Seokjin. You're so fucking wonderful. This isn't your fault. It was me. I was the one who couldn't tell you, and I'm really sorry for that. So please don't blame this on yourself. It's completely my fault."

You sigh as you take complete responsibility for the situation.

"Jagiya, don't blame everything on yourself either please. You couldn't help it, I know that baby."

He rolls off of you and pulls you with him as he moves so he's properly laying on the bed, and not sideways anymore. He tangles his legs with yours as he makes sure you're laying on his chest. He continues to gentle run this fingers through your hair as he presses a kiss against your forehead.

"How long will you stay this time?" You ask, scared for the answer you tightly clutch at his shirt.

"The next concerts will be in 6 months, but there'll be 6 or so. All here in South Korea. This time around you'll just come with me."

"What if your management doesn't like that?"

"Ya! They know how much you mean to me! I'm just taking you with me weather they like that or not." He mumbles as he hold onto you even tighter than he already did, if that's even possible.

"Are you okay now?" He asks, sounding concerned again.

"I'm not, but i will be soon now you're here."

"I'm really glad."

He keeps pressing sweet kisses against your cheek as he holds onto you tightly. You've never felt so safe in your life, and you wouldn't change it for the world. It's right then and there that you realize that you really need to seek help again. Seokjin will be there for you throughout the way, so you know you'll be fine eventually.

"I'll help you with this princess. I made a promise to you that I would, so i'm definitely going to now."

And he kept his promise. For the next couple of months Seokjin was there right by your side throughout the whole process. He helped you with everything, took care of you and made sure he treated you like the princess you were in his eyes. In Seokjin's eyes, you were absolutely perfect. He absolutely adored you for your sweet and caring personality. He couldn't be more in love with you than he is right now. You're the only thing he can think about. You're on his mind 24/7, so that's why he's trying to hard to help you with this. It took a while but you slowly started to feel better. It didn't take long after that until you were completely cured. From then on Seokjin made you a promise that he'd stay by your side forever, and he still is there up until this day. Truth is, real love never dies. No matter what it has to go through, real love will find a way. Exactly how you and Seokjin found each other, and even now you're still very happy together.

#Jin #seokjin #jin angst #seokjin angst #jin fluff #seokjin fluff #seokjin one shot #jin one shot #bts one shot #bts angst #bts fluff #one shot #fluff #angst #bangtan #bangtan scenarios #bts scenarios

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easyfoodnetwork · 4 years

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Welcome to the Culinary Barter Economy

Photo-illustration: Eater

COVID-19 has led to a growing number of people trading food like sourdough starter and flour with their friends and neighbors

Until about a month ago, Ari Koontz had never traded food with their neighbors in Providence, Rhode Island. But when Koontz decided to leave part of an extra-large batch of chocolate chip cookies on their neighbors’ doorsteps, they received cornbread and other cookies in return. “It was so wonderful to experience this kind of full-hearted reciprocity,” Koontz says — so much so that they began looking for more opportunities to trade. Soon, Koontz was running all over the neighborhood, swapping baguettes, sourdough starters, and pepper seeds for oranges, herbs, and dried beans.

At my own house, in Seattle, a recent Costco impulse purchase of a two-pound bag of active dry yeast quickly became worth its weight in gold. While I happily gave it to anyone who needed some, friends and neighbors kept asking if there was anything they could give me in return. I accepted leeks from a garden, homemade granola, and malt powder for making bagels.

Meanwhile, on Twitter, the television writer Jess Dweck joked that “2020 sounded like the most futuristic year and now we’re all like ‘I traded my neighbor a handkerchief for some carrots.’” More than 70,000 people liked the tweet — most likely because more than a few of them had been busy trading cloth masks for baking powder or bread for milk.

As people have tried to cut down on grocery store trips (and their associated anxieties) since the onset of the COVID-19 pandemic, trading with neighbors has become an easy, low- or no-contact way to acquire that one missing ingredient for a recipe, find suddenly elusive supplies like yeast, or share brownies that can no longer be brought to an office. And so the informal bartering and trading of ingredients and food has mushroomed, with people using social media networks like NextDoor, Twitter, and Buy Nothing to ask for that pinch of cinnamon or give away extra lemons. “Yeast is selling for like $30-$70 online — does anyone want to trade us yeast,” wrote Twitter user Tori Hinn, who prefaced the request with, “[A sentence I would have never typed one year ago].” In public Facebook groups, posts using the terms “barter” and “trade” during March and April increased more than 250 percent over the same time period last year.

“Barter already appeals to millennials and Gen Z,” says Julie Smith, a principal at the consulting company Point B. These generations, which make up about half the U.S. population, share dresses through companies like Rent the Runway and Armoire, swap baby clothing on Buy Nothing, and purchase resale or upcycled goods on Etsy. This predilection for sharing and reusing, combined with easy access to large groups of neighbors via social media, meant that bartering was already part of life for many in the U.S., and thus poised to catch fire long before the pandemic lit the fuse.

But the instinct to trade during hard times follows a deeply entrenched pattern of human behavior that reasserts itself whenever a country endures a large-scale change to its fortunes. “Uncertainty leads people to conserve cash,” explains David Ortega, a food economist at Michigan State University, citing such examples as hyperinflation in Zimbabwe and Venezuela.

Bartering has provided a way for people to get closer to one another even during a time of required social distancing.

While Ortega isn’t surprised that informal trading has grown in popularity during the COVID-19 pandemic, he’s quick to point out that the pandemic is of a very different nature and scale than these other crises — and that its particular circumstances have created anxieties around food, not cash. “We are not running out of food,” he says, but the switch from eating at work, school, and restaurants to eating at home has led to shortages of certain items. “It’s not as easy as shifting delivery trucks from restaurants to a grocery store in a very short time frame,” Ortega explains. That, along with the tendency of many nervous shoppers to buy in large quantities, and supply chain disruptions related to sick workers, has created what are called stock outs. As a result, some people end up with plenty of flour or yeast, but miss other supplies that their neighbors have.

Still, Ortega says that the gaps in the food supply chain aren’t the only explanation for why we barter. By sharing access to food, he explains, people feel they can connect with a friend or neighbor. “You go to the store, then call a friend and say, ‘Hey, I found eggs, do you need any?’” Bartering, in other words, has provided a way for people to get closer to one another even during a time of required social distancing.

This kind of connection has resonated with Koontz, who was laid off from their job because of the pandemic. Trading has become “not just an act of kindness,” they say, but also — despite Koontz’s own lack of financial resources — “a way to feel like I was supporting my community.” For these reasons, they hope that the bartering trend is here for the long run. “Not just for me personally,” they say, “but [I hope that] our wider communities will continue exploring creative and non-capitalist ways to support one another in times of need.”

While Twitter users may joke about the novelty of bartering (insert Little House on the Prairie punchline here), the practice is hardly new to many communities. Rebecca Adamson, an Indigenous economist and the founder and president of First Peoples Worldwide, a global nonprofit organization, notes that against the backdrop of the pandemic, “we can see the Western economy taking on the lessons or values of an Indigenous economy.” In the former, wealth is often synonymous with money, while the goal of the latter is for everyone in the community to survive and thrive.

Indigenous economies accomplish this through collaboration and cooperation, valuing “the collective efficacy of community,” Adamson says — “much like what we are seeing in the public response to COVID- 19.” While she laments the lack of traditional exchange networks in the market economy, she sees elements of them reflected in the efforts of many people to create barter and trade networks to provide child care, hair styling, garden and farm produce, gourmet foods, carpentry, entertainment, and more. “By mitigating the influence of cash in a community,” Adamson says, “the value of social benefits can be maximized.”

But bartering is generally a short-term fix in times of economic turmoil, Ortega says: When things get even worse, people turn to more extreme solutions, such as parallel currencies, which allow for more flexibility than direct trading. That said, he doesn’t think this new uptick will vanish anytime soon. And so he has a few words of wisdom for anyone interested in participating in the informal culinary barter economy. There’s a reason that “most people begin by trading with the people they know,” Ortega says: They trust that they’re not getting old yeast or spoiled milk. For that reason, he recommends that aspiring barterers also stick with people they know and trust. “Now,” he says, “is not the time to be paying a visit to the ER for a foodborne illness.”

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2WcU4bm https://ift.tt/3fzq4hi

Photo-illustration: Eater

COVID-19 has led to a growing number of people trading food like sourdough starter and flour with their friends and neighbors

Bartering has provided a way for people to get closer to one another even during a time of required social distancing.

from Eater - All https://ift.tt/2WcU4bm via Blogger https://ift.tt/3bfG3On

#Blogger #cooking #Eater #food #recipes

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acrossthemar · 4 years

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Corona Diaries

2/14 - Fly to Arizona for Grand Canyon and Arielle Bach Party. People in airport are wearing masks. I make a comment to my mom about it, not understanding why people are wearing masks or wondering if they are sick.

3/2 - Patient Zero tests positive for COVID19 in New Rochelle.

3/8 - Our Boss at Schoology tells us we can work from home if we feel more comfortable. We think she’s just being lazy and wants to work from home herself.

3/6 - Comedy show in NYC. Kristin doesn’t feel well and we worry she should stay home incase she has COVID19. We go to the comedy show. The comedian makes jokes about COVID19, we laugh.

3/8 - Eric’s School closes School for the following week. I make a comment to him that that’s overkill and a “private school privilege”. All other schools will eventually close of course.

3/11 - Mom flies to Madrid.

3/12 - National Pandemic Announced & Trump Announces Travel Ban between US/Europe. Cuomo declares State of Emergency in New York.

3/13 - Mom flies home from Madrid to NY after Mara books back up flight for Mom from Madrid to London. Mom spent $1400 to spend not even a full day in Madrid, goes back to the airport with thousands of panicked Americans, gets off stand by and comes home. Mara comes over to greet mom and give her some food, flowers, and company.

3/14 - Mara works remotely indefinitely, office shuts down until at least April 7th. Mara and Eric do the NYT crossword, hike the Masters trails with Winnie, and Mara and Eric go to Japanese Restaurant with Susan, Jeff, and Matt. Restaurants will soon close. Earlier in the day Mara goes to Larchmont to check in on mom, goes for a walk with mom and Winnie, and meets up with Kristin, Kevin, and Zoey at Central School.

3/15 - Mara goes to Larchmont and goes to Manor park with Shanni, Maddy, Liana, and Nicole and Nicole’s dog Remy.

3/16 - Mara works from home. Luckily Peloton bike was delivered last week just before the store closures began. At this point all Spin Studios and Gyms shut down. Mara and Eric cook butternut squash risotto and parmesan asparagus. De Blasio announces that NYC Public Schools are closed. Meals will be served at food centers.

3/17 - Eric and Mara are watching Sex Education. Mara Eric and Susan go on trail hike with Winnie.

3/18 - Mara Hallie Eric Winnie trail walk with Winnie. Mara Zoom date with high school friends.

3/19 - Zoom date with MK, Jana, Jason.

3/20 - Mom comes over for trail walk with Winnie and we cook the Shrimp Pasta dish with brussel sprouts.

3/21 - Peloton bike, talked to Elise on the phone, walked to tennis courts to play tennis with Eric’s family. The Masters courts are shut down due to Corona. Dinner at Eric’s family’s house. We sat at the dining room table to spread out. Mara played Ping Pong with Matt.

3/22 - Mara ran 3 miles, used Peloton, went to Larchmont to work on Obama NYT puzzle with mom.

3/23 - Monday, Peloton, worked from home, played SET with Eric, cooked a big salad.

3/24 - Run, work, tennis with Jodi, visited mom, Video session with Aubrey, Elise, Kelly

3/25 - Peloton, work from home, went on walk to store, no one was there and everyone in masks. Order in sushi. Video date with MHS friends. We started a CS team fitness challenge today since no one is moving since only home!

3/26 - Didn’t sleep because reading too much news and it’s so sad. US now has more cases than any other country (82k), NY has 37k cases, and the news is really grim. Had my virtual performance review and got a 3% raise, went on a 7 mile run but tripped on a rock and got hurt, played tennis with Jodi, then went to my mom’s and cooked dinner. I feel scared every time I go to my mom’s house in fear that I’m bringing the virus into her home. A lot of my mom’s coworkers have tested positive for COVID-19. Deccico’s is doing a great job with their grocery store (limiting number of people in store, making people wait outside 6 feet apart, mandated gloves, sanitizing shopping carts, glass wall at check out. Stop and shop is not doing much and so people haven’t been going. Trader Joes NYC closed because too many employees tested positive. Everyone is panicked and at this point it is hard to imagine life going back to normal. Even if legally it goes back to normal, everyone is absolutely terrified of other humans. Everything about this is unprecedented and unimaginable. Trump is a moron. It hurts to think about how much better handled this might have been with Obama. The 2020 Presidential Election is essentially at a standstill, no one going to primary elections, very curious what will happen, will we even be able to vote in November? Bernie and Biden left, Biden in the lead, but Biden is hardly speaking up about Covid-19. It’s been fulfilling to work at Schoology during this time as we are making a real difference in virtual learning and our school districts are eternally grateful. Side note––Amazon is hardly even running! They’ve cut down on their hours and employees, and the average wait on PRIME is 30 days!!! I am going to sleep at my mom’s tonight.

3/27 - Ended up sleeping at my mom’s on Thursday night. Took a work meeting from my mom’s then went back home. First dropped off my right AirPod at a FedEx drop off but you had to touch the box. Tried to do a Peloton class at home but Winnie got into my medicine bag and we found her with an empty laxative and ambien pill container. We took her to emergency vet and had them induce vomiting. We were terrified we killed her. Turns out she didn’t eat any pills and we ended up finding all of the pills when we got back from vet. Poor Winnie. Silly $300 at vet. Pet insurance is dumb because it has such a high deductible. I then went on a walk with Winnie because it was 64 degrees out. Eric and I cooked a fancy meatloaf for dinner and finished Sex Education. I made a lovely cocktail.

3/28 - Weekends don’t feel all that different from weekdays. Trump is discussing a mandatory quarantine on all New York residents since there are now 45,000 confirmed cases (many more unconfirmed). Reading the news is scary and I have been trying to limit it at night because it gives me insomnia and anxiety. Most of my friends aren’t seeing their parents at all. It’s gross out today. I did a few Peloton classes and started Little Fires Everywhere. It was a book turned into a movie but because movies are closed they released it as a TV series on Hulu. Just stepped out of the house for the first time today to take Winnie on a short walk. My team at Schoology is doing a fitness challenge to get some steps in because it’s HARD to find reasons to move! We were going to go to the Shear’s for dinner tonight but Susan had a headache this morning so to be safe we aren’t going. This is the crazy world we are currently living in. I’ve been mostly only wearing sports bras not real bras. We have not been able to locate lysol wipes in weeks. Note to self, I’d like to add some photos here because this really is all so unprecedented and it’s hard to put into words the craziness.

3/29 - Working out every day but gaining weight. Watched Little Fires Everywhere - LOVE it. Gross day out. Peloton inside. Zoom Call with Kristin, Oliver, Parker, Mom. Went on a walk around the apartment. Weekends are worse than week days because no work to do.

3/30 - Work is crazy because Schoology crashed since too many people on the platform. Did lots of Peloton Spin. Amanda moved her wedding to 2021. We are very worried about ours. I haven’t been sleeping. Went to visit mom with Winnie in afternoon for a walk. Passed neighbor Kelly but we couldn’t let her pet Winnie because not supposed to have other people pet your dog. We had a meeting with the Rabbi for our wedding. She is hopeful for July because she can’t stand the thought of not being able to send her kids to sleep-away camp haha. Started this dumb show Tiger King, everyone is watching it. About a man who keeps tigers in his house.

3/31 - Schoology crashed again. Too many users. Work has been busy but fulfilling though because we are so important right now, been nice to connect with my clients. It’s been hard working full days though I take breaks to work out and to do chores so I’m a bit all over the place. Went to the post office today to return a dress for my mom because I won’t let her go, all stood 6 feet apart and I feel scared to breathe in public now. It’s so bad in NY and the Daily Podcast is scaring me.

4/1 - Work has been stressful because of the Schoology outages because everyone is doing school on Schoology now. Went to Deccico’s at lunch to do a big grocery shopping (we are trying to limit grocery store to once max twice per week since it’s unsafe to go). I wore a t-shirt as a bandana to cover my mouth, tried to keep sunglasses on, and wore a glove on my right hand (left hand was for my phone to see the shopping list). The line was wrapped around the entire corner and I ended up waiting 45 minutes. You have to be really careful to stand at least 6 feet behind the person in front of you. It was a bit overwhelming because we had such a long shopping list (also doing groceries for my mom), and they were out of a lot. I couldn’t find bread, orange juice, turkey, etc. Also have not seen lysol wipes in weeks. Unfortunately. I ended up being gone for an hour and a half and couldn’t even finish the shopping. Went to Stop & Shop after to finish the list. No one is going to Stop & Shop because they aren’t doing as good of a job with cleanliness protocol so it’s far less crowded. Under isolation I am 1) becoming a chef with Eric, we are cooking so much! 2) working out a lot and incorporating more floor workouts and strength training 3) drinking almost daily… 4) eating A LOT!!!!! Getting fit + gaining weight at the same time. Today was Greg Lesser’s birthday, so we had socially distant drinks on our lawn, I have a funny picture of all of us sitting that I’ll post above. During the happy hour, Caitlin Casey wanted to use our bathroom so she stepped inside, we deliberated if it was okay. I was too close to the door when she opened it and she alarmingly stepped back, no one gets that close anymore. Winnie turned 9 months today. A few other notes: our Election Primary has been moved to end of June. I will have to likely cancel my bachelorette party. Schoology already closed our office through April 30, with optional WFH through May 31st. I interviewed Hong Kong American School tonight, as they’ve been remote for months. They almost went back to school but when folks came back to China they brought COVID19 with them so now they are back to isolation.

4/6 - We decided to stop going over to Eric’s family’s house because it’s making us anxious and there are four of them and Eric’s mom is still going to the hospital. I got an actual mask and have started wearing it to the store and I feel a lot more safe. It was a beautiful day today, 62 and sunny. I went to my mom’s house and worked from her patio. Then I went on a distanced walk with Winnie and Shanni and then Winnie and Caroline. I’m getting used to working fully remote, I can’t even imagine commuting in at this point.

4/7 - Here are a few things I’m grateful for during this time. Eric, a supportive and loving partner. We get along so well and find a great balance between hanging out together and being independent, so we haven’t been sick of each other at all. Our spacious apartment and easy access to green space and outdoors and running paths. Winnie, truly the love of our life, she is just a saint and we can’t imagine life without her. And the fact that we have a “home gym” ie Peloton, exercise mat, and weights. These four things make this experience far more manageable. And of course the fact that we are both still employed and that our families are still healthy.

4/11 - Went on a walk with friends in LeatherStocking Trail in Larchmont. Was a bit crowded and narrow which wasn’t good. We ran into a random boy from our high school who immediately picked up Winnie. (We aren’t letting people pet Winnie due to Corona but I didn’t act quick enough to stop it). Anyway, turns out his brother who he LIVES with has Corona. Which means he probably has it too. And he was out on a walk not social distancing and PET MY DOG!!! I was absolutely livid.

4/15 - Cuomo requires all people wear masks in public in NYC. Cuomo says likely that there will be no large gatherings through the summer. Very sad about the wedding. Colleges are making online learning plans for the fall just incase.

4/28 - Silver lining of quarantine: I get to hear Eric’s work, not just his teaching but his deanship how eloquently and professionally he handles parent conversations, managing faculty that’s older than he is, and student situations. He is currently leading a parent forum book discussion on the book White Fragility on race and whiteness

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aslaton8-blog · 4 years

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Barton Hallow

Today 14 years ago, I gave birth to a stunningly beautiful, smart and talented little girl. I named her Lillian Noel at birth. I was 18 years old. I wanted to name her after my grandmother but I did not like the name Ilene. 😬 So I named her after the city that my grandmother lived in for over 20 years, Lillian, Alabama.

My grandmother was the sweetest person in this family who would give her life for another person easily. The rest of the family is corrupt and monsterous. I don't talk to any of them, I refuse to. I blame their father Jim who was an alcoholic military man who I'm sure abused them and their mother, my grandmother. But I also blame them too for not caring enough to face those demons and come out of that hell. That's something I did. I cared enough to get away from that hell and to not repeat their mistakes.

I conceived a lily when I was running away from home at night to go see this guy named Brandon Taylor. I met him through the grocery store line that I was working. He was a good 5 to 6 years older than me. He was 23 and I was 18. I lost my virginity to him. I was 18 and sick of being a prudent. I was a prudent because my father molested me and I was afraid of sex. But you know how teenagers go and how hormones go. So I hung out with this guy a lot behind my father's back. He was kind of thuggish and an alcoholic but he was respectful for the most part. I have to say the only thing that he ever pushed on me was smoking weed. BIG DEAL.

Anyway when it came to losing my virginity he was extremely careful with me and he kept asking me over and over again if I was sure. He didn't just take advantage of me which is pretty awesome. But boy was the sex awesome. He also had another friend Brandon (I don't know his last name) and they were good friends.

On a side note: It's kind of wild that they were both named Brandon because the only step sibling I ever bonded with growing up was a step brother named Brandon Kyle Cobb. The rest of the time it was just step sisters who treated me like Cinderella. One of them made me burn my hands in the sink to wash them they were just torturing me because they were jealous I had a dad and her dad died. Little did she know he was molesting me. So I got abuse from both sides. To this day I still can't wash dishes without having a major anxiety attack or my skin feeling like it's on fire no matter the temperature. My husband and I have a deal where I unload the dishwasher and he loads the dishes up. I'm so thankful for him. That's love 🖤.

Anyway I never made that connection about Brandon at the time because I was so absent-minded and traumatized by my childhood growing up that I didn't even pay any attention to these patterns or synchronicities. I didn't really find them all until I was about 25 or 26.

So 23 year old Brandon Taylor had a best friend named Brandon. He looked part Hispanic as he had darker skin and that would explain why my child has darker skin than me. We all decided to enter into a threesome because why not? It's fun!!!! Unfortunately I'm dealing with dumbass thugs here so one of them knocks me up and loses all the fun! Moron!!! We could have had more threesomes you idiot!!! 😂 Brandon Taylor was smart and careful and did not get me pregnant but his buddy however was not so smart. I even felt it, I felt all the cum around my vagina. I'm certain he's the father. Brandon Taylor was just way too white and my daughter has a nice olive complexion. Cheers. Not going to complain. She's beautiful! Even though he was a dumbass he also gifted me the most beautiful person in the world and for that I thank him, he taught me a wise lesson. I haven't given birth ever since.

Anyway when I found out I was pregnant I dipped out and ran. I cried in the shower and felt disgusted with myself for letting that happen. I knew better than that and I was smarter than that so I took full responsibility.

I found out that Brandon Taylor had moved back to New Orleans because he and his father got in a fight and he moved back there right before Katrina was about to hit. I was so worried that he had gotten hit by the hurricane. It was 2005 and Katrina was due at the end of summer.

I hid the entire pregnancy under my hoodie. I'm really skinny so I got away with it because my pregnancy was really small. I also got away with it because I happened to move into a dorm room right afterward so I didn't have to interact with my father. He started making comments though that I was getting fatter during my first trimester before I moved out. I think he knew somehow but he never approached me because of the denial that he faced. He was in such heavy denial and the king of denial. I confronted him when I was 15 about the sexual abuse and he denied it straight to my face. Fucking monster.

After Brandon Taylor I was lonely and I started talking to this guy named Corey who was coast guard. My hormones were ridiculous because I was pregnant and my emotions were also ridiculous because of the situation I was in with my father and being pregnant. I went a little crazy there and I had sex with him. He had respected me before when I was a virgin but now that I had sex with him he suddenly had no respect for me. Figures that is a double standard with guys.

So I left him and I met his friend Jacob Barton who asked me out. Jacob was pretty fun I had a lot of fun with him. We were together for a little while. The problem with our relationship though was that I was pregnant the whole time and hiding it. It's amazing that he even stuck with me. I could feel him judging me constantly but I still did not break or tell anyone. I really really liked this guy and he was a lot of fun to be around so I didn't want to blow it of course. I looked up to him in a way because he was teaching me about all kinds of social things that I was never introduced to before. My father had kept me isolated from most of it. He introduced me to a lot of music and he introduced me to a lot of movies and TV shows. He was also a huge Star Wars fan and Batman fan which I found really endearing. Brandon was like that. We nerded out on video games and TV shows all the time growing up. I'm pretty sure Brandon Kyle Cobb was in my life for a good five years of it (off and on).

Well I gave birth to my child on December 17th 2005 hidden from Jacob Barton. It's no wonder he thought I was cheating on him. In fact he asked me later if the baby was Cory's. 😬 I'm pretty sure he cheated on me. He loved this band Franz Ferdinand and I will never forget that song "cheating on you". He was also constantly asking me where I was and who I was with even though he was allowed to go by himself with a girl all the way across to another city and hang out with her all day and I wasn't allowed to question it. In fact later after we broke up and I had already given my child up for adoption we reunited and he was dating this blond girl who listened to country and he cheated on her with me. So I got my confirmation. I'm pretty sure he cheated on me. It didn't matter because either way we split up not long after I gave birth. I mean he stuck with me for a few more months just to see how everything went but I became an alcoholic and he became disgusted with me. He broke up with me based on the fact that I had "too much baggage." in other words I had a hell of a life that he couldn't handle or deal with and that I was going to be forced to deal with by myself anyway because it's not like my family was there for me.

I was sleeping in Jacob's bed when I got the call from my stepmother that my father had just got sent to the hospital for a heart attack. He was considered dead upon arrival. He had overdosed on oxycodone alcohol poisoning and apparently at heart disease that he didn't tell anybody about and it all killed him. it was the same night that his brother got out of jail after being in jail for over 20 years. It was February 26th 2006 only 2 months after I gave my child up for adoption. My father was a crook and he made tons of money but somehow had zero money left for me when he died. I got a bunch of my furniture for my stepmother who said she just didn't want to look at it anymore not because she wanted to give it to me. This is the same stepmother that told me she hated me to my face. A full grown 40 year old woman telling a 16 year old child that she hates her, wow such a mature mother... Ironically her name was Elizabeth Ann and my mother's name is Ann Elizabeth. Sounds like my dad planned that one.

Anyway like everyone else she did not stick around and she moved away and I was left here by myself without any family to support me or help me or guide me for my homelessness. I'm so glad I gave my child up for adoption because she would have been homeless with me. I made the right decision. I didn't want to I cried for weeks afterward. I remember in the delivery room telling myself how much I would do this all over again and here I am pregnant again at nearly 33 years old. It's all her fault 😂 I want her back. So I could go crazy and try to go steal her from her family like a crazy person but that would be irresponsible and crazy and unfair to my child. I absolutely love her and I care about her safety and her happiness and stability and if she is safe without me then so be it. I hope that one day she grows up and comes searching for me so that she can meet her new sibling, Sky and so I can tell her everything that I just told you here I don't want her to feel like she was unwanted because she was most definitely wanted. I don't know where I get my mother instincts from because they aren't from my own mother or my sisters. I thank every person who was ever good to me outside of my home growing up because you're the reason I ever was even able to learn love and break the cycle of abuse.

I just want everyone involved to know what happened to me around that time so that maybe they can have more empathy and understanding for what I went through and why I hid it. My father was a sociopath who molested me there was no way in hell I was going to allow her to be anywhere near him. He already destroyed my life why would I let him destroy hers?

Anyway this is my story for you Lily. I hope that one day you get to read it. I hope you have a happy birthday even though I don't get to tell you. And I bought you another growing Up doll this year like I do every year. I hope that you get to see them all one day and add them all to your collection where we started.

I started with an open adoption but because my family is so fucking ridiculous and crazy they all got scared and closed the adoption. It was my mother's fault really. She had poisoned me and had me thinking all kinds of crazy things that drove the adoptive parents do not feel safe around me. That was the worst moment that could have ever happened. My mother pushed herself into my life even though I told her I wasn't ready and I was right I was not ready. I convinced myself that I was ready because she had convinced me that this was the only way she could come see me but it never clicked that she had six years to form a bond with me online through messaging and email which she neglected constantly. I told myself that family is family and that I need to meet my mother and blah blah blah and all she did was destroy my life for the next 5 years. she gaslighted me and she made me think that my father might not be my father because she claimed that she got pregnant or found out she was pregnant when she was in California while my father was in Pensacola. When I asked her about it, it took her four emails to answer me. I couldn't understand why it would take for emails to give me a direct answer so I spent the next five years thinking that my father might not be my father. I also discovered all these synchronicities that led back to when I was a teenager with all the different weird name patterns. I never want to feel like that again. I'm so thankful that 5 years later they cousin reached out to me through a DNA testing which confirmed that my father is in fact my father. So that still never answered is why I took her for emails to give me a direct answer.

Maybe she wasn't sure? Either way I don't understand why you would play such a game with me and then yell at me and tell me to stop berating you and that my father is my father at the end of it all. So I told her "you know what that's fine you don't have a daughter anymore" you get to have your abortion that you wanted. She aborted my two siblings before me and got scared and backed out of the abortion with me. I guess her consciousness was starting to get to her at the time. now I live my life in fantasy wondering what family would have ever been like had I had a normal or decent family that loved me wholeheartedly. A sociopath doesn't know how to love. I definitely was not taught how to love through him. Again I thank my peers and all of my influences that kept me alive all these years.

I can't wait to meet you, Sky. We are going to learn how to be a family together despite the abuse I went through. I didn't deserve it and neither do you. Let's begin this new chapter. 🖤🖤🖤 I love you Lily and Sky 🖤🖤🖤

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starship-squidlet · 7 years

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[Story time--feel free to ignore]

So I need to get something off my chest, and I can’t do it anywhere else because people who know the people I’m going to talk about will see it and I don’t want to harm these people’s reputations. However, the only one of them who has a tumblr has already blocked me, as far as I can tell, so I’m not too worried about them seeing it here.

So my senior year of college sucked. I hate to admit it, but it did--basically the whole year, but especially the end.

It started off well enough. I spent two weeks in London and Edinburgh for a class, moved into an apartment with all of my best friends, had (mostly) great classes, and quickly started forming/strengthening friendships with people I had met in the theatre department the year before. For the first time in my life, I was starting to feel like a normal person, socially. I wasn’t having trouble with anxiety or depression. I was getting along really well with just about everyone in my life. I had finally cut out my toxic father for good (or so I thought). My relationships were just so healthy, and so was I. I felt happier than I ever had in my life, surrounded by amazing people, and doing what I loved in the theatre department.

But it very quickly started to go downhill. The closer I grew to people in the theatre department (the only people I still talk to from school), the further I felt from my apartmentmates. Then, my great-aunt died. After a few panic attacks, I threw myself into my work in the theatre, painting our production of Translations. I did my best to juggle painting, work, classes, homework, and life in my apartment, and I felt like I was doing pretty well--passing all my classes, handing homework in on time, wowing the director with my work, getting really close with the TD and carpenters, and still managing to take my roommates on weekly trips to the grocery store--but I soon realized that things were getting worse in my apartment. My roommates stopped including me in apartment life. It felt like they were criticizing my every move: I spent too much time in the theatre and not enough on homework, my growing love for technical theatre was wrong, I didn’t sleep enough, I wasn’t focusing enough on my classes. When I announced my intentions to pursue a career in technical theatre, they all mocked me, even my theatre MAJOR (I was only a minor) roommates; they said I’d never make it, that I should stick with my majors (English and Linguistics), theatre was too hard of an industry to get into so I shouldn’t even try.

The growing stress from my worsening home life, a really bad professor who I could never get anything right for, the impending deadline of the fall show, and the fact that I didn’t have enough chapel credits to meet the quota for the semester got me to the point where I started cutting for the first time in my life. I felt less healthy than I ever had, including when I was a child and being beaten by my narcissistic asshole of a father. I realize that there were many factors contributing to this, but at the time, I didn’t know what to do. I coped by focusing as little as possible on the class I was having trouble with and abandoned everything else to throw myself into my work in the theatre.

In the theatre, I was happy. In the theatre, I was safe. Even my interactions with my roommates there were fine. We were still friends. It was when I got home that things would get bad again. First, they stopped asking me to take them to the store. Then, they started ignoring me. After that, they started getting quiet when I walked into the apartment; conversations would stop or clearly abruptly change topic to something harmless, and anything I attempted to contribute to discussions was either brushed off or ignored.

Finally, opening weekend of Translations, I was done. After opening night, I spent the night in a friend’s apartment, and sent my roommates an email outlining the issues I had with them and informing them that I was planning to search for different housing. They responded with another email begging me not to move out and promising to respect me more and not exclude me. I wanted to believe them so badly that I fell for it and decided to stay. This lasted for about a week before things got even worse than they had been before.

The cycle of disrespect, outright rudeness, and stress continued. Every time I would protest the way I was treated, my roommates would promise to stop, before getting worse. I was told that the way I felt was wrong, that I was exaggerating or misunderstanding or just plain wrong.

I completely recognize that I was also a part of this cycle. I let my stress get the best of me and reacted poorly to situations that arose. Instead of confronting my roommates when things happen, I let them fester because I didn’t want to cause conflict. Sometimes, I did things knowing full well that they would bother my roommates and not caring.

Finally, the week before opening of the spring production, things blew up. I had gotten into a fight with my roommate the week before, but we had talked, I had apologized, and we had made amends. Some of the other girls responded to this with a poorly-disguised “wellness check”: they came to the theatre to “see the pieces I had made for the show”, but spent the entire time asking me how I was doing, if anything was wrong, and other, incredibly patronizing, questions. Then, opening week, I reacted to a form of disrespect that had been going on all year: during our start-of-year apartment contract meeting (mandatory in all dorms on our campus), I had asked that we not use bleach-based cleaner, because I believe that bleach is a harmful chemical and don’t want it anywhere near my body. They agreed to use vinegar-based cleaners instead once we used up the other cleaners their mothers had bought for us, and I agreed--I also offered to buy the more natural/vinegar-based cleaners, as I was aware that they can be more expensive. However, all four of them continued to buy bleach-based cleaners, despite this agreement, and I let it slide. Finally, over spring break, I bought a new natural cleaner and, when everyone returned, asked that they use it multiple times (admittedly, not necessarily in the kindest manner), and was repeatedly ignored--to the extent that they discussed in front of me the purchasing of new bleach-based cleaner. I finally got fed up with it, left the apartment for my work in the theatre (I was backstage supervisor for hair and makeup on this show), and used a few minutes of spare time that I had to write a facebook post in our private group about my frustration (again, I realize that this wasn’t the best way to respond, but between the theatre, classes, homework, and work, I was spending literally no time in the apartment during waking hours and had no opportunities to talk to my roommates).

Within half an hour, two of the girls showed up backstage at the theatre. This was an hour and a half (or less) before opening; my team and I had an hour to get 20 people ready for the show, and we were running very late. Also, anyone who has any association with theatre (as these girls did, although they weren’t my theatre major roommates) knows not to just walk backstage. They asked one of the ASMs to find me, tracked me down in a dressing room, and demanded to see me. When I explained that I was busy, they reluctantly agreed to wait until after the show opened. However, within 15 minutes, they tracked me down again and once again demanded that I stop what I was doing and talk to them. Despite me, my assistant, and the stage manager all repeatedly explaining that I had literally no time to talk to them, they continued to insist, growing more and more belligerent, before finally storming away and leaving me to explain to half the cast and crew why my roommates were so rude. I found out that they had left the theatre entirely, apparently giving up on talking to me, and spent the show relieved that I hadn’t had to deal with them after all, but wondering what they wanted.

After the show, I was still angry about the disrespect and rudeness they had shown, and my anger and frustration only grew as I walked home. I finally burst into the apartment and demanded what they had been thinking in doing and acting the way that they had (which I fully 100% acknowledge was totally not the right way to handle things), but got no answer. I received blank stares, as they had clearly justified themselves in their minds, and finally accusations that I hadn’t taken the time to talk to them. After a lot of skirting the issue, they finally explained that they had come because my roommate was sick. This stopped me in my tracks; why did my roommate being sick entitle the others to invade my sanctuary (because this was how I had come to think of the theatre by this point) and disrespect me in front of everyone I worked and spent time with? Then they dropped the bomb: not only was my roommate sick, it was her anxiety flaring up, and it was all my fault.

Through the discussion, their circumventing of my questions had only made me angrier, and at this point, I left, mostly to avoid doing or saying anything else harmful to our relationships--at this point, I still wanted to salvage our friendship. I spent the night at a friend’s, texted my roommate asking why she was blaming me for her anxiety and apologizing for whatever I had done to cause it, and went back to the apartment early in the morning when I knew none of them would be awake to shower and get ready for the day, and packed the things I would need for the day. I found a note on my pillow and grabbed it to read later; I ran into a few of the other girls on my way out, and got dirty glares from all of them. On my way down the stairs, I read the note. It continued to blame me for my roommate’s anxiety, but also forbid me from speaking to her, and claimed that I was the cause of the conflict and strife in the apartment. Before I got to the ground floor, I was in tears. Instead of going to class, I went straight to the theatre, to my TD’s office, and spent the next hour sobbing and explaining what was wrong and what had happened. He calmed me down, gave me some advice, and I spent the rest of the day curled up in a chair downstairs; I was in no state for class.

Halfway through the day, I saw my roommates enter the theatre. Assuming they had tracked me down there again, I rushed upstairs to hide in the little-used bathroom there, not mentally ready to deal with them, only to see them going into the head of department’s office. I didn’t pay it much mind, just went downstairs and hid from them, then went on with my day. Instead of going home after work that night, I planned to wait in the costume shop until very late, when everyone would be in bed, and sneaking in to sleep for a few hours then. At this point, I was terrified of my roommates and being in my apartment; I had no idea what they might do or say, and didn’t think I could handle any of it without breaking down completely. I called my mom and told her what was going on, sobbing again, and she convinced me to tell my RD what was happening and ask to be moved to a new room. I pulled up my email only to find one waiting from my RD. My roommates had gone to her and told lies about me--that I was unstable, that I was causing conflict, that I was an issue.

I spent that night on another friend’s couch, after going back to my room and taking everything I would need for the next few days. The next day, I found out from a friend in the theatre department that my roommates had told the same lies to the head of the department that they had told to me RD (later, they would also tell them to people in student life and the housing department), and he was furious, claiming that I needed counseling and couldn’t resolve conflict, all without actually knowing me as a person beyond a little interaction during the aforementioned trip to London and Edinburgh. My RD informed me that they would try to find me a new room, although she couldn’t make any promises with only a month left in the school year, and that someone from housing would contact me to hear my side of the story (spoiler alert: they never did).

I spent the rest of the weekend on friends’ couches and floors until Sunday, when I was told that I had been found a room. A few amazing friends kindly helped me move (a process of throwing things randomly in boxes and bags and haphazardly jamming as much as possible into my car), and I settled into my new single room, confident that I would be okay now.

But I wasn’t. I felt more alone than I had during my entire college career; I didn’t have the best friends that I had grown to love over the past four years, or any of our other friends, all of whom took my roommates’ side. I had my new friends, sure, and they were beyond amazing--far better than I could have asked for--but it wasn’t the same. I would find myself scrolling through my feeds on social media and thinking “Sarah would love this!” and starting to send it to her in a message before remembering that I couldn’t. Or I’d hear a funny joke or story and think “Wow, Karli would find this hilarious!” and go to text it to her, only to remember that I had been forbidden by the others to speak to her.

What was almost worse was that I still had class with Molly, the one who had been most demanding and belligerent to me during that “surprise visit” to the theatre, and who had written me the note I found on my pillow the next morning, and had to sit next to her for an hour and a half two days a week. I tried to act normal, but felt myself breaking inside every time we talked.

As for the theatre, I lost my second home and sanctuary. I thought I would be fine spending time there, instead of painfully alone in my room, but the first time I heard Annika’s voice around a corner, I froze. In a moment of panic, I started hyperventilating and dove for the nearest door, the bathroom, where I hid until I was sure she was long gone. As a matter of fact, she wasn’t, and when I heard her again, I bolted for the door, only starting to relax when I was free, halfway back to my new dorm.

I began failing my classes. I could no longer focus on homework, much less lectures, and did poorly everywhere. I spent all of my time not in class in my room, to scared of running into my ex-roommates if I left. I spiraled further and further downwards, until one weekend, I gave up. Laying on my floor and sobbing, unable to do anything else, I sent a paragraphs-long text to the only person I still trusted, my TD. I don’t know how to describe it besides a suicide note, except that I couldn’t even kill myself at this point--I didn’t even have the ability to function to that extent. He promised that we would talk the next day, Monday, and I reluctantly made my way to the theatre then, unwilling to talk but knowing that I had to. Most of the time, I think that he was the only person who got me through that last month; I couldn’t talk to my mom, and didn’t trust any of my newer friends enough to burden them with this. I don’t even know how I was able to trust him this much, but I’m so grateful that he was there for me when no-one else was. I don’t know if I’d be here today if he hadn’t responded to that text.

One of the things he kept encouraging me to do was reach out to my roommates and see if it would be possible to patch things up. I finally did this the week before finals; I asked Molly to talk with me after class, and we sat down in an empty classroom to do so. During the course of that conversation, I came to the realization that there would be no “making up”, because none of them had any desire to do so. Not only that, Molly continued to insist that everything was my fault, even the fact that they didn’t want to speak to me ever again. I left that meeting knowing that I would never speak to my closest friends again. I would never send Sarah stupid memes or fangirl with Karli over Markiplier. I would never talk theatre with Annika or literature with Molly. I would never reminisce about our London/Edinburgh trip with Mariah or talk shop about writing with Michaela. I would never see any of my closest friends after we graduated. Sarah wouldn’t be my maid of honor, and Karli and Molly and Annika wouldn’t be my bridesmaids. I would never see them walk down the aisle, and my children wouldn’t call them “aunt”.

I feel robbed of my senior year. I was so scared of my former friends that I couldn’t leave my room, or spend time in the only place I had been happy all year, the theatre. I couldn’t go on the senior trip to the Red Sox game at Fenway because not only might I run into them, I had no-one to go with. I didn’t go to the senior breakfast because my only remaining senior friend was planning to sit at the theatre table, and there was a chance that Karli and Annika would sit there too. I didn’t go to baccalaureate, and almost didn’t go to graduation, because I didn’t care anymore (the only reason I did was because my mom had a hotel reservation)

Now, I should be okay, but I’m not. I have been for most of the summer, but that’s gone now. I’m looking back on posts from the last four years that all of my friends are tagged in, and realizing that I’ll never speak to them again. If I even start to think about the past years, I can feel my heart breaking again. I’m crying even now. All I want is to freak out to Sarah about the Game of Thrones finale even though she doesn’t watch the show, or tell Molly about the last book I read. I want to be able to listen to Africa by Toto (Karli’s favorite song) or the Undertale soundtrack (a game that me and Karli and Sarah played together) without having to turn it off after a few seconds because it hurts too much. I want to be able to watch Sarah and Duck (an adorable British cartoon about a girl named Sarah and her friend/pet Duck that Sarah and I watched together) or any cartoon about Robin or Nightwing (my and Karli’s favorite cartoon/comic character) without my heart breaking as soon as I see it.

I just want my friends back.

Is that really so much to ask?

#personal #misc #rant #story #true story #story time #life of me

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instantdeerlover · 4 years

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Welcome to the Culinary Barter Economy added to Google Docs

Welcome to the Culinary Barter Economy

Photo-illustration: Eater

COVID-19 has led to a growing number of people trading food like sourdough starter and flour with their friends and neighbors

Bartering has provided a way for people to get closer to one another even during a time of required social distancing.

Still, Ortega says that the gaps in the food supply chain aren��t the only explanation for why we barter. By sharing access to food, he explains, people feel they can connect with a friend or neighbor. “You go to the store, then call a friend and say, ‘Hey, I found eggs, do you need any?’” Bartering, in other words, has provided a way for people to get closer to one another even during a time of required social distancing.

via Eater - All https://www.eater.com/2020/5/8/21249529/the-barter-system-during-coronavirus-covid-19-trade-food

Created May 8, 2020 at 10:13PM /huong sen View Google Doc Nhà hàng Hương Sen chuyên buffet hải sản cao cấp✅ Tổ chức tiệc cưới✅ Hội nghị, hội thảo✅ Tiệc lưu động✅ Sự kiện mang tầm cỡ quốc gia 52 Phố Miếu Đầm, Mễ Trì, Nam Từ Liêm, Hà Nội http://huongsen.vn/ 0904988999 http://huongsen.vn/to-chuc-tiec-hoi-nghi/ https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1xa6sRugRZk4MDSyctcqusGYBv1lXYkrF

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