#I wish i could go live in a cave by myself sometimes

[hishoukoku]

.

#I feel like I'm bothering ppl with my bullshit and i can't shake the feeling that everyone is fed up with me #I wish i could go live in a cave by myself sometimes #.....(let it be the 10k gods cave at least T.T)...... #no but for every hour of intense serotonin i get from things i love...I feel like a worthless trash the next few hours #Almost like i don't deserve it because even saying HELLO sometimes makes me feel like a bother #and that's to ppl /I/ consider friends #ive lost the ability to even realize who considers me a 'friend back' #not that i have anything to offer #plus i have to do some shit at work that i dont like #and it's taking a bigger toll on my brain than i thoguht it would #but its fineeeee cause I have the ability to bury myself in the things I adore to stop even the slighest real world thought from occuring #hyperfixations ftw #'cept SOMEtimes like now when im overwhelmed that i feel like i dont do them justice #I'll delete this later I'm just.. Tired.. #Ishidarambles #Personal shit #ranting in the tags like an OG tumblr user

[meowzfordayz]

god damn

I.M x Reader

Word Count: ~700

CW: Fem!Reader, implied body insecurity

Song Inspo: God Damn by I.M

His reflection stares tired and unsatisfied, broad shoulders hunched over the bathroom sink, not quite awake fingers warm and drowsy against the cool enamel. Reaching for the faucet, he turns its stainless steel lever, cold water splashing from the basin to his skin. He doesn’t flinch, still staring—critiquing—the shadows under his eyes.

“You okay?”

A voice, his favorite voice, floats sleepy and amused behind him, familiar scent enveloping him as she leans into his back, elbow brushing his forearm as she turns off the water, concern pressed steady along his spine in the form of gentle, patient kisses.

“I’m great,” he chirps immediately, shadows receding with practiced ease, “I was about to wash my face.”

“I couldn’t tell,” she murmurs, fingers tugging at the hem of his shirt, slipping toward the front to ghost across his soft, toned stomach, “You’re so pretty.”

No I’m not he nearly retorts, disdain pinching his brows, resisting the sour urge to push her hands away Not even close.

“So what’s going on in that brilliant brain of yours? What’s got you up and about so early?”

He knows she means well. Knows she has her ways of coaxing genuine light from his smiles — of dissipating the humbling fear that, whatever he does, whoever he is, will never be enough. But the morning feels unkind, his muscles taut, an empty vessel indefinitely unworthy of fulfillment. How can he live up to her faith in him when he knows the truth of his vanity? The depth and fraying of his self perception.

“I’m going to work out. You’re welcome to join me.”

She nods slowly, his shirt creasing beneath her cheek, palms splayed tentative and sensitive on his hips. Again, he turns on the cold water, a distraction from melting into the feeling of her body following his movements. Cleansing once leaves a sensation of lingering shame and disappointment. Cleansing twice helps. Barely.

“You worked out yesterday,” she remarks quietly, “Remember?”

He shrugs, patting at his face with a washcloth, almost caving when she suddenly turns him, washcloth somehow in her grip now, her expression unreadable as she begins dabbing at his temples. He can’t see himself anymore. Can’t see the stress etched over and over and over, the doubt sunken in further than any suds could ever penetrate — an uneasy act of beauty and exhaustion radiating from his brown, narrowed eyes.

“I know this is more complicated than my love for you,” she mumbles, “But I do, y’know, I do love you.”

This. This distaste for his figure. The angles of his legs. The structure of his pelvis. The fluctuation of his gut. The wiriness of his arms. This. The constant maintenance to be able to look at himself and feel, at the very least, neutral. The facade of confidence and cockiness, because he understands he’s handsome. He understands how—why—he could be deemed so pretty. Sexy. Desirable and desired. Just as he can’t bring himself to believe it. Can’t bring himself to meet her open gaze, and confess: Sometimes, all the times, I don’t know, I hate myself.

“Sweetheart?”

I know you love me crawling up his throat, enveloping her hands in his, washcloth dropping to the bathmat. I know you love me on the tip of his tongue, lips chapped, grazing her knuckles. I know you love me swallowed abrupt and hazardous, thumbs tracing the undersides of her wrists, unwilling to spill for the tenderness in her pulse.

“I love you,” he says, because loving her is truthful.

“I love you,” she insists, tears pricking at his restraint — his reluctance.

“Are you going to cry?” he rasps.

A wobbly giggle fills the bathroom, “Probably.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, wishing he could pin his heart to her sleeve.

“Let’s cuddle and sleep in.”

He allows her to guide him back to the bedroom, underneath the covers, limbs intertwined, shallow breaths smoothing out to a dreamless rhythm, momentary weakness showing him how he could feel if he could say I know you love me. If he could say I love me too.

#i.m changkyun #i.m x reader #changkyun x reader #drabble #monsta x

[felixora]

Some thoughts on my Sandman x Batfam collab/crossover (I have no idea what would be the appropriate name for this, coz they are part of tge same DC universe but uhhhh it's not like they interacted in the Prime universe... It's complicated, ok)

As I've mentioned before, all of Batfam members have met Death in her physical form (be it because of their own death or someone dear to them). That being said, not all of them know that this is, well, the Death. I imagine that Bruce knows for sure what sort of entity he met; Jason and Damian most likely are familiar with her as well and would recognise her on spot.

Perhaps Jason engages Death in small conversations about absolutely random stuff from his life, whenever they meet - Death would indulge him, because she would be curious about how the boy uses this 2nd chance to live a life. Damian for sure would have drawn her some pieces of art and left it on his desk, just to find later the art missing - Death would cherish this gift and hold it safely among other few gifts she received throughout time.

Now Tim. Tim is a menace, when it comes to Endless. And it all has to do, that he simply doesn't wish any part of his life to be determined by some immortal entity or part of their influence. Dream trying to entice Tim to finally get some sleep after 3 straight sleepless days of working on a case? "Fuck you, Morpheus, I'll just buy more Extra+++ energy drinks". Desire revealing all of Tim's hidden wishes and granting him an easy way of achieving them? "Fuck you too, I'll go the hard way instead, probably commit some war crimes and then lock myself away in a cave, to reconsider all of my life choices, which will eventually end up it ignoring my personal needs for X amount of time, till next crisis".

Richard is well-known and respected by the Endless, though he is absolutely clueless to this. Like. Zero awareness. (Also, after Alfred's death and Dick opening a memorial and foundation in his honour, I imagine Death would have stopped by, just to say "he is proud of you and wants you to know you did great")

Cass kinda reminds Death and Morpheus of Delirium? Just sometimes. Which potentially could end up in situations, when some of the Endless would adress her as Delirium, like a part of habit (they know for sure she's not some sort of mortal manifestation of Delirium, with their Omnipresence, but sometimes she would remind them of their sister a bit to much)

#the sandman #batfamily #batfam #the endless

[tadpolejourney]

Day 6

True Soul. That's what they called me. This new god, the Absolute, has rabid followers all throughout these parts. At first I thought it was just goblins. Today I met humans and gnolls who worship it. A Zhent we met on the road mentioned drow as well. Apparently the tadpole is what makes them think I am a True Soul. There really is something highly unusual about our infection. It makes me all the more eager to cure it.

But what if it can't be cured?

The humans I met who worship this Absolute had been attacked by an owlbear. The 'True Soul' among them perished from his wounds in front of us, telling his siblings to listen to me because I'm also a True Soul. They told me they were looking for people from the nautiloid crash. I got as much information as I could out of them before telling them I was in the crash. They immediately attacked us, and were immediately killed. The 'True Soul' had half a spear shaft. I bet the other half made it into the owlbear before shredding him.

I found the owlbear cave not far from where they were. I wanted to make sure it wasn't hurt by that cultist. I know that sounds dangerous but I really do love animals and I can win even some of the most dangerous wild animals over. We found a mother owlbear and her cub in the cave. The mother had the half a spear in her head. She claimed she would be fine, and let us leave alive. It's the best I could do, but I don't think she will live. I only hope her cub is old enough and can survive out there alone once she's gone.

Astarion asked Gale, Shadowheart, and I if we had loves waiting for us when this is over. Gale said it wasn't the easiest question for him to answer. Who gives an answer like that to a very simple, yes or no, question? WHY THE FUCK IS HE SO ANNOYING? Shadowheart had a weird answer, but that didn't surprise me. I only said I'd been single for the past year. Not willing to go into my dead boyfriend sob story, or the series of short-terms I'd had recently in an effort to comfort myself that only made me more depressed.

Found out Shadowheart's big secret. She's a follower of Shar. At least that explains why she can be such an asshole. She also has no memories. She told us she voluntarily wiped her own memories. Shar also inflicted an incurable and often but randomly painful wound on her. I don't even have words. I'm grateful that I can at least understand her now, and she has some trust and warmth towards me again. Still that grumpy attitude and blatant rudeness comes out of her more readily than anything. I probably won't be able to forget how shitty she made me feel the other day anytime soon.

Tonight Astarion invited me over to chat while he was drunk on bear blood. He was actually very cute for a bit, and it was nice to see him so happy. That is until he started on a whole power-hungry drunken tirade. Not cute. I get why he wants power though, and I don't begrudge him for it. I reminded him that he's surrounded by hero types who might want to bring about his end if he doesn't step carefully. He needn't know I could be counted among them. I need him to trust me just as much as he needs me to trust him. Besides, I completely understand where he's coming from and I don't really think it would come to that anyway. Sometimes I wish I could tell him outright why I empathize so easily with what he's been through. Maybe someday. Or maybe I won't even need words for once. That would be nice.

Both of them make me think of Dad, because I think without him I would be more like they are. His words still echo in me all the time. “With enough time, people won't remember what you said or what you did, but they will forever remember how you made them feel.”

Okay, enough about these weirdos, I need to write my music!

<<< Day 5 | Index | Day 7 >>>

#baldur's gate #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate oc #baldur's gate tav #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 tav #baldur's gate iii #baldurs gate tav #bg3 spoilers #bg3 astarion #shadowheart #astarion #gale #bg3 gale #tav #bg3 shadowheart

[donttouchmyempire]

Yeah, apparently I can't control myself so here are some headcanons I've made from H2O just add water (it is a fanfiction I'm still planning to write)

So, after Lewis got his scholarship to the USA, he's afraid that his relationship with Cleo won't be the same

Cleo is also afraid but also optimistic and happy for him

They try to keep in touched everyday, even though Lewis is very busy.

They don't need to spend hours in the cellphone; he smiles for a whole day when Cleo texts him in the morning "you'll do great today in your exams, love you". And Cleo would read his brief and sweet messages before going to sleep so she could forget a bit about her problems

She was worried after her graduation because she still didn't really know what to study in college.

And Lewis would try to help her as always

They would never tell each other but sometimes wondered if the other would find someone better during this period

Cleo was not so insecure anymore but she couldn't help having this thoughts where a Charlotte 2.0 appears and gets too close

Lewis, on the other hand, would be very secure about his relationship with Cleo because he trusts her. But sometimes he remembers how incredibly beautiful she is and he couldn't blame anyone who would fancy her

But in general, a long distance relationship was better than they thought

So one day, around one year later, Lewis' friends in the US think that he needs to try to be with someone else because his australian gf was cheating on him by that time for sure.

And they try to take him to a party because "you need to live a bit outside of this lab" (and some of them would try to mock him for being a "virgin" but Lewis honestly couldn't care less)

Thing is, he really is not interested, even if he was single, because that research was the most important thing that moment

Their friends at some point give up, but not after making him go at least to one party with them.

They thought that he would finally bang someone, but he is there only to make them stop inviting him to these parties bc he def had some more important things to do

And yeah, there were lots of pretty girls there

But none of them had the same kind, green eyes, and that wide smile, and calm thoughtful voice.

Lewis didn't usually think too much about how he missed Cleo, but that night he wished he was in the moon pool cave just looking at her

And he faced the sky and saw the moon. He couldn't help but think about all the full moon nights he spent awake to help the girls

And for the first time in months he allowed himself to cry - not only because he missed Cleo, but also missed those days that would never return.

So he picked his phone, knowing that Cleo would be probably working at that time and left her a message

"Hey, Cleo. I was just... Looking at the moon. And yeah, I'm on this party here, people thought I needed to have some fun and leve the lab a bit but... I just want to say that I miss you. A lot. Nothing has changed. And nothing is funny without you. But I look at the moon and at the ocean and I.. I like to think that we're not so far away".

When Cleo hears it, some tears roll down her face because she never heard Lewis sound so heartbroken. And yeah, sometimes she also missed him that it would almost literally hurt

She could tell that he wasn't okay and her only thought was "He is lonely"

And she decides that it was time to visit him and she would go. Swimming.

Of course she had to tell her dad she would go by plane using some savings she had.

Rikki didn't really like the idea of Cleo swimming a whole ocean alone

Bella thought it would be amazing

But Cleo convinces them that it won't be so difficult because she can control the water

And in fact, it wasn't. Most of the time she didn't need to swim so hard bc the water was carrying her. And she somehow knew where to go

It took her one day and she was amazed with the possibilities

Of course she hadn't told Lewis she would be there, so she just headed to his address

And when he opened the door, after a day of studying hard with a bottle of energy drink he thought his mind was playing him tricks

But it was her. In front of him, smiling.

They looked at each other in silence for a moment, all the words they wanted to say shared through their stares

And when she hugged him, suddenly he felt home. And when they kissed, she felt everything was alright again

Part of his brain wanted to ask how the hell she arrived there swimming

But all he could think was about her lips that tasted like salt water

And they were just there, in his tiny living room, the last rays of sun going through the window, heating even more the moment, the scene and their bodies

He didn't even asked if that was her first time - he knew it was their first time, they knew each other since they were five and it was surprisingly how their bodies communicate so perfectly with each other when they struggled with words

And she could tell he was nervous and kinda wished it was full moon so she would be more confident

It was gentle, caring and loving, with lots of kissing and giggling

And when it was over, they felt the same way: relieved and delighted

After a moment, Cleo says "so, apparently it was worth it to swim across the ocean"

And he just smiled and said "you didn't have to do this, you know."

"I know. But you needed me. It was your full moon and I couldn't leave you alone in a full moon. I thought it was our main rule in the mermaid club."

#sorry not even remotely sorry #h20 just add water #lewis mccartney #cleo sertori #mako mermaids #fanfic #mermaid #i still can write more

[hisui-apparently]

[[All ask games are active, found under the tag "#ask game". All answers found separately under "#ask game - answered"]]

Hi! My name's Remy, and I grew up in a region just a bit south of Unova, the Tempevus Region, but it's not very well known, so I just call myself Unovan.

Currently, I'm a college student at a University in Unova, and I'm majoring in Bioarchaeology! I am currently two souls living in one body, and we're still not quite sure who's talking/thinking when.

My Team:

Vax - Sylveon (Shiny Variant)

Vex - Crobat

Riptide - Samurott (Hisuian Variant)

Honey - Goodra (Hisuian/Shiny Variant)

Venom - Zoroark (Hisuian/Shiny Variant)

Aries - Arcanine (Hisuian Variant)

Kebano - Altaria

Spark - Rotom (Inhabits my phone)

I'm also (a) Victini's Chosen, apparently. Vey use Vey/Vem/Vir pronouns (sometimes I fuck up when typing it out) and go by Vik.

Some extra context!

Venom and Aries were both given to me as eggs by Volo, while I was in Sinnoh. I did not know who he was at the time, and now I am livid, because he gave me my own Pokemons' children. He left them in my care with no information, but fortunately they hatched healthy with no complications.

Everybody else, however, was encountered and caught in the wild. A lot of the stories are quite cute, actually, so I'd be willing to tell the stories of how I met each member of my team in the future, if you all would like!

I adopted Kebano more recently, however, from a local shelter! He's on my team as a Service Pokemon, both for sleep aid and transport assistance. Any other time, he's free to do whatever! As long as he doesn't get himself hurt or destroy any property, that is.

Arcs:

Hisuian Science Arc: With some help from the scientists at Team Wing, Remy tries to figure out just how over half of their team are make up of Hisuian Forms! Edit: We have learned that Venom and Aries were, in fact, directly from Ancient Hisui! [COMPLETE]

Lakes to Distortion Arc: Remy sets off on a journey to gain the blessing of each of Sinnoh's three Lake Spirits, so that they mey venture in and out of the Distortion World at their own will. They do this because they wish to have a nice tea time with Giratina. [COMPLETE]

Possibly Bad Decisions Side Arc: Another version of Giratina offered up a task to Remy, and in return, would create a portal for them to the Distortion World. They must find a cave that holds a crystal, the essence of this Giratina's power. Could it end badly? Of course. Will it? Who knows? Are they going to do it? Definitely! [COMPLETE?]

Past and Future Discoveries Arc: The Remy that was the Savior of Hisui has been thrown into the future by some Sinnohan deity, but something messed up along the way. Now, this Remy and that Remy are two souls inhabiting one body and one mind! This will only be tagged on a post if the... condition itself is mentioned. [PERMANENTLY ONGOING]

#pokemon irl #pokemon rp #pokeblogging

[dreamhigh-dreamawsome]

Being in a safe relationship can be hard sometimes

When you're used to emotional abandonment and manipulation, any small changes in the new relationship can feel like it is happening all over again

I have to remind myself that the wolf is dead and I've been out of his cave for over 2 years now, but sometimes I feel like I'm still in there even though it's been so long

Today, my love needed a day to himself, so he didn't want to talk. I got it, so I tried to leave him alone, which it is incredibly hard when you are constantly talking every day or just existing next to each other without needing to say anything

Even if I don't want to, I feel abandoned, like he is mad, wants to leave me, no longer lives me, he is tired of me, and no matter how many times I remind myself that he is not the wolf, my brain won't leave me alone

I'm exhausted, I'm tired, and I wish I could talk about this with someone, but he is my "someone," so I have no one to talk to. I'm exhausted of not being able to live without the wolve's shadow following me wherever I go and always making itself present in every interaction I have with everyone, and I am especially exhausted that it does not allow me to have peace in a secure and safe relationship where I am happy, and joyful, and loved, and important

I'm so fucking tired of fearing abandonment because my "someone" wanted an afternoon to himself

[aaronbleyaert]

Magic, by any other name, is just a trick

I’ve always loved magic. For as long as I can remember, I was obsessed with the likes of Jean Robert-Houdin, Penn & Teller, David Copperfield, Ricky Jay, Harry Houdini, The Amazing Randi, Lance Burton, and on and on. In high school, while other people my age were sneaking alcohol and trying to kiss girls, I was in my bedroom practicing different ways to hide a coin in my hand (between bouts of playing D&D at the local Denny’s of course). I would study books on card tricks like they were holy texts unearthed in the caves of Qumran. I used to spend hours wandering through my local magic shop trying to decide on what trick I was going to spend my hard saved money on next.

But, of course, those are all just tricks. Not real magic.

When I was kid, at the end of every grade, my mom would make me fill out this book about everything I liked and didn't like, who my friends were, what sports I played, what I was reading, watching, etc.

I hated this book.

It was always the day after the last day of school - aka the first day of summer vacation, the first day of freedom - that I had to sit down and fill out the entries in this book. All my friends, already starting their summer vacations with jubilant screams from out in the street, and here I was with The Book. It was like a toll for all the fun I was supposedly going to have that summer.

Anyway.

So I'm back home in Michigan two weeks ago, going through some old photos, and what does my mom pull out of the cabinet... But The Book.

It was incredible. Truly.

So many years, so many tiny forgotten details, all right there at my fingertips. Absolutely unreal. Some things (Favorite TV show: Quantum Leap) I remembered; other things (Favorite Movie: Monster Squad) were an absolute epiphany.

Magic. Real magic.

This was the kind of thing I had been searching for, all those years when I was younger; but instead of the ability to read someone's mind, or pour endless amounts of water from a small plastic jug, what I got was a whole host of forgotten knowledge about Past Me, paid for in full from all those First Days of Summer I spent angrily scribbling my favorite things down through the years.

It's so weird - when I was a kid, all I wanted was to be somebody else. Somebody else, living somewhere else. To shout some arcane word or mutter an unholy phrase and instantly transform myself and my life into something exciting.

But now that I am somebody else living somewhere else, someone with a life that sometimes feels exciting, I find myself thinking more and more about who I used to be - and wishing I could open a portal back through time to who I was then. Wishing, again, that I knew how to perform magic. And finding this book did just that.

So if you're wanting to be somebody else, or be somewhere else, start by writing down everything about who you are now - but only the little stuff. The daily things that you find boring and wish you could forget. The small pleasures that make you smile but aren't big enough to make a ripple in your week. I promise you, that in three months, six months, a year, five years - you will realize that it all has changed: That you are a different person, living a different life. The only constant in this world is that it's always changing - whether you realize it or not. Life only happens when you look away. It might only feel like a moment, but when you look back, it will feel like forever.

Abracadabra.

[sidxlune]

Middle Ground Monday, 1st of August, 1:47 P.M

There’s a certain kind of warmth in the atmosphere on Christmas eve...

There’s a certain kind of warmth that you feel when the merry making begins to die down and the conversations shift from loud to almost a whisper, the mind goes half-asleep, topics become more serious...

There’s a certain kind of warmth that wraps your heart and turns your brain into a puddle, making you throw whatever principles you have right out the window.. and this particular warmth, it’s the one I felt when I was listening to your voice.

I don’t know what came over me. I was halfway through a bottle of wine and I reasoned it must’ve altered my system to a certain degree. It’s probably just the wine, I kept thinking. My cheeks were flushed and my voice was starting to sound hoarse.. yeah, must be the wine. Damn it. IT WAS YOU, for fuck’s sake. IT WAS US. It was the universe finally giving us our time and it was so overwhelming, I wanted to just shut my eyes and swim in it. "Can we at least try?" you asked in a really soft tone and it triggered a weakness in me. The danger thrilled me that I almost caved in.. but I pulled and held on to my senses because if I didn’t, we’d be in trouble. What a virgo thing to do, isn’t it? to be in control. Grounded, they say. I always go deep, but that time I wished I was as light as you, as carefree as you.

I would’ve bottled that warmth if I could. That’s how badly I wanted to hold onto that newfound feeling. I would have brought it with me here, dispensed its contents drop by drop from time to time, let it linger on my sheets like a perfume and buried myself in it until I fall asleep. I’ve nurtured coldness in my life for a really long time that I crave even a slight hint of warmth when it’s near my grasp. Everything about you felt warm and familiar, strange and new—all at once. Even if I try, I can’t simplify it.

We talked for hours and every time you spoke my name, I flinched. When was the last I heard you say it? it’s half our age ago, I never thought I’d hear it again. It sounded so different coming from you. I couldn’t help but wonder if you’ve ever said it with a lump in your throat over the past years. Am I a good or a bad memory?

Where did we stand in each other’s lives? we were always catching up but only at a distance—on and off—for a long, long time. We were never clearly defined. We bonded more than friends but less than lovers. The chance was always there but we never grabbed it. You were always too careful; I was always a runaway. You hovered but never really landed because you wanted me to make the decision. "It was hard to find the right timing with you," you told me. Who would’ve thought that us getting older, acknowledging our regrets, totally abandoning what’s right and wrong, you moving back home and me leaving, your secrets, my wine, staying up ‘til dawn and just hearing each other’s voices again will convince me to finally let you in?

I wonder if fate is real or the universe really does something crazy and makes a fool of us sometimes, like reunite people unexpectedly and ignite old flames or awaken dormant feelings. I wonder if it randomly sends warmth to people’s hearts and makes them fall in love even if the circumstances are against it. I wonder if star-crossed lovers ever make it out alive in the end.

When you said you love me, did you mean it?

When I said it back, was it just a lie?

Do you think we should stay?

Is it worth it?

#journal #words

[yesjojobirdflyhigh]

i cling to hope like an animal.

when i wake up, i open my blinds to see how the sun is rising. i listen to my favourite songs and do my makeup in the mirror. i think about people i used to know and the versions of myself they knew. i think about how we were girls together and i will always care for them. i plan the day and daydream out the train window. i sit on a bench in the park and greet people with a good morning. i get lost in the books i read and smile at everyone i see. i smell the freshly cut grass and sweet pastries. i flick through the notebook where i sometimes sketch landscapes to capture the scenes i want to remember every detail of. i see children that remind me of a younger version of myself. i try to find heart shapes everywhere. i want to share my dreams with someone who wants to listen. i want to stop and smell the roses. i want to be sentimental and unashamed of it. i think about community and public libraries. i think about how our hands contain our humanness and how holding hands connects us. i sit by bodies of water when i don’t want to talk to anyone. i like to scribble lines of bad poetry and i try to be kind to myself. i wonder if the road ever ends. i look up at the trees and wonder if there are any that are the same age as me and have been growing with me. i think about how much history they have witnessed, the endless stories engraved into their bodies. i touch the flowers and hug my friends. i listen to birdsong and stare at art. i want to dive into the water even if it’s cold. i get into moods where i feel so much love for everyone in my life.

i try to listen to my body and work with it rather than against it. i listen to podcasts about poetry and joy and healing. i think that sharing an orange is the peak of love. i dream about all the places i can go and all the people i could be and of you. i feel grateful for bright colours and for being able to try again. i wonder if i can ever leave. i remind myself to pay attention, to listen, to stop being so sure i know anything. i think about how small flowers look like constellations. i cry about the same things. i email my friend who lives across the world every few months and wonder what it’s like to be someone else. i keep everything that people give me, especially handwritten letters and their love in my heart. i think about childhood summers and the last sunset. i think about how we can miss so much but we will never get any of it back. i bake with my friend and things feel easier. i want to be one of those old couples who hobble along the streets of foreign cities holding hands and chatting away, or sitting by the river under the shade of trees reading. i love road trips with the windows down and the soft sounds of music flowing. i think about warm light and sitting in silence by the lake. i think about basking in the comforting smells of laundry and campfire and cooking. i think about handprints in caves and the tenderness of kissing a bruise. i think about how old my grandma’s house is. i hope our kitchen tables are always full of food, people, and laughter. i find myself returning to the view from my attic bedroom window: the clouds, the hills and trees in the horizon, the occasional train passing, and all the people in their little houses living their little lives. i mostly spend my days alone. i watch comforting films and journal every so often. i write about what tugs at my heart and what i dare to wish for. memory feels like sunlight on water. i wish i can be everything like my parents and nothing like them. i want to live inside a melody. i want to be soft without turning into a beaten pulp. i light candles in the evening after showering and settle down to read. i look forward to moments in the morning when the light streaks into every crack and crevice, and the world feels quiet and bearable. i pray no one lets the loneliness consume them. i listen to the rain pat gently on the roof at night when i can’t sleep and stare at the moon in all its glory. i think about how anger unravels us and regret eats away at us and how we need tragedy. i keep my window open to hear all the soft sounds of the earth.

i cling to hope like an animal.

- Tiya

#tiya #newsletter

[tiggggered]

07/05/2023

this feels like the only place i can post this. no one checks this as far as i know..

this week has been so intense for my emotions. i had graham stay over for the week my family went to sicily

it was so wonderful and i never have felt better than when i was with him. i know it’s honeymoon and puppy love and all that phase but i think he is going to be somebody i love for a while. i don’t know how long but knowing i would like to makes me feel to scared about never getting to be with william ever again.

as for the photos, EW. you’re the love of my life. nothing in the world is going to ever change that and i really want to end up with you. there’s nothing more than that. we’re meant to be and you’re my everything. i do truly think though we do need to try move on (for now) and grow. try new things and see what changes could be made? idk sorry i’m high and very stoned hahaha

anyways, william, i wanna marry you. i spend my life with you but i need more and you to love me more and really appreciate me. there are so many things you’ve listed to me that you were bad for like with not hanging out or walking me home and all. like idm not being with you sometimes but it is nice to see you for as long as possible 😁😁😁😁

hearing you say how much you’re scared and you miss me and just so sad about it i totally feel it. it hurts and i wish i could just say yes to you. but i do really like graham. he makes me feel adored and he is always helping me and doing little things he makes me smile and laugh he kisses me all the time. i can see myself living with him for a few years. i just know deep down i’m going to end up back with william at the perfect age for everything to work because it has to he’s so wonderful.

that feeling of hope that isn’t going away makes me feel guilty for wanting to even try now or does that mean i’m leading graham on? is it mean of me to just have my little secret feelings? what happens if i caved after 30 years and cheated? like idk the future is scary because i know i only wanna spend it with william but it really isn’t working so far in a lovers way :(

anyways again haha the second pic is how the day looked when i did this. around 7am.

i’m excited to see how we both grow and learn to be friends and i want to see you put in some real effort i want an invite somewhere as much as possible haha also don’t move out of drogheda i love having you here. without you i’ve no one i wanna see that’s close by :(

okay i’m gonna sign off for now i have to catch my bus.

peace love and hugs

elaine xoxo

i love you william 💛

[existential-dread-in-the-am]

I am so not going to live to see old age whether I like it or not.

I woke up in full panic attack mode again (fallen into water in a weird cave, murky greenish water, no way up except this random string and I can't pull myself up bc I'm still not strong enough damn it, I yelled 'HELP' and something underwater heard me and started hunting me). I couldn't see anything when I woke up, just started listing the first thing that came to mind (favorite characters I'd been writing about recently) to get out of the terror spiral.

Sometimes I wish I was monitored while sleeping so I could find out my heart and breathing rate and anything else that happens in my body when this sort of thing happens. My chest does hurt every time, I can't imagine avoiding a heart attack for very long at an age where people start developing heart issues.

I fucking hate this. My therapist will like having another dream to work on though.

This, too, would once again make a great short horror movie...

#too many bad things #Vale's collection of dreams and nightmares

[puppetoffthehook]

Freedom

Inspired by this fanart

References made to @theolderhenderson

“This is it.” Billy sighed as he leaned on the stack of cardboard boxes. There honestly wasn’t much to take. He had a couple bags full of all the clothes he owned - the ones his dad hadn’t been able to get rid of before he woke up in the hospital - and a few boxes full of what few other things he had. Some books, his collection of cassettes, his mom’s old vinyls, his stereo, and his hygiene and hair products are all that he had to pack up to move out.

The mirror, the bed, the nightstand, and the weights were all staying because Neil said he’d be damned if he let Billy take expensive shit he paid for. It’s fine because he managed to get a bed frame and other furniture from a thrift store in town. He got a new mattress; a queen so he didn’t have to squish himself uncomfortably on a twin. All of that was already set up in the trailer that awaited him in Forest Hills.

He felt a small hand on his shoulder and looked over to see Elie Henderson. His best friend and confidant who was helping him finally escape the hell he’d lived in for eighteen years. She was smiling at him in that way she did when she knew exactly what was on his mind. Sometimes he wonders if she can read his mind like that kid did.

“This is gonna be good for you, Bee.” Billy smiled and leaned in when that gentle hand turned into a hug. “Max will be okay because she has a big brother to run to if she has to. And you can finally go a day without that piece of shit hurting you.”

Max had been a major worry in his mind. He had agonized over what the right thing to do was when he woke up in the hospital and Elie had practically demanded he leave Neil’s house because he wouldn’t be able to recover there. Billy knew she was right, but the ever present fear that Max might be next to face his father’s abuse had nearly made him refuse. It took Max herself begging him to do it before he caved in with the promise that she come to him if Neil ever even attempted to hit her or Susan.

“She’s a tough kid, El, but I worry about her.” He sighed, running fingers through his now longer hair. A few months in the hospital and he could be in a hair metal band. “Kid can barely look at me since the mall and I can’t say I blame her.”

Elie sighs and next thing he knows, she’s leaning against the bronco in front of him to look him in the eye. “Billy. It’s not because she thinks you’re some monster or that you killed those people. It’s hard for her to look at you because she watched you die on the floor of the mall that night. And several times after they got you to the hospital. It was traumatic for her.. and for me.”

“I know.” The blonde looks down with a sigh. There are scars on his hands from holding back the monster he made. Scars on his torso and the center of his chest where the beast had grabbed him and tried to kill him. Sometimes he wonders why he survived, but Elie always shows him that he’s loved and wanted. “I know it had to be hard for you guys to see. I wish I’d just fought harder. If I’d just tried harder then maybe I-“

He’s cut off by Elie grabbing one of his rolled up posters and bonking him on the head with it. “None of that shit, Bee. You fought back as hard as you could and you did it in the end. That’s what matters.”

“But-“

“Do you think I never blamed myself for what happened to you over the summer?” Her stern gaze silences him but doesn’t stop the look of horror on his face. “I know you better than anyone else. You confided in me practically everything about you but I wasn’t there! I wasn’t there when you needed me, otherwise we could’ve stopped it sooner! We could’ve spared you the pain! … But you would never let me blame myself for that because there was so much going on. So I won’t let you blame yourself when you were literally possessed by a monster.”

The brunette’s tone and expression brokered no argument so Billy just sighed and gave a nod. He hates that she would ever blame herself for what happened but he gets it in a way. It’s their shared way of coping. “Okay, okay. Let’s get a move on. I wanna be gone before Neil gets home from work.”

They loaded his sparse belongings into the bed of Elie’s bronco and Billy climbed in, giving the side a tap when he was ready to take off. As they flew down the streets of Hawkins, music blaring and the wind whipping his hair around in a wild flurry of gold, Billy leans against the tailgate with his arms spread wide and his head tipped back to look at the sun high in the sky. Things have changed for him and he knows he’ll have to change with it if he means to truly heal. Now, with his best friend at his side and freedom from his father, it might just be possible.

#drabble #theolderhenderson #this is specific to my portrayal of Billy so if you don’t like it you can suck it

[words2be]

When my mother lay on her death bed, she was frustrated that her life was left undone. We were alone in the hospital room at Olean General, and she was in pain and confused from the opiates delivered through a Brompton’s serum administered to terminal cancer patients in those days. She knew her life was over, and she was sad that she could not complete the things she had started. She said to me, “Oh Barbie, what am I going to do?”

I was 19 and knew everything. I said, “If it were me, I would quit taking all the medications, and I would get up and walk out of here.” She struggled to get out of bed. Fumbling with her IV, she drew back the covers and grasped the chrome railings with her bruised hands. Her slim wrists cracked as she tried to lift herself. She could barely sit up let alone stand. She said, “I can’t do it.” And she lay back down and died a few days later.

I thought my mother could wish away her pain and her death sentence. I bought into the idea that our conscious thought can alter the physical evidence. At that time I had not yet read any new wave philosophy. Now I have read much of it and discovered it is easy to think pain away when the pain is insignificant but not so easy when it is life threatening. Fear is a much louder voice than hope. My own diagnosis has made me realize that the relationship between determination and hopelessness is much more a dance than a negotiation.

Fear is an aggressive dance partner leading you this way and that, and sometimes towards giving in. Ekhart Tolle has scared off many a reader by suggesting a means to relief is to die before you die. We can find comfort in the knowledge that life here in this version ends for everyone. We shut our eyes and step into another plane. It is a great gift that for most of our lives we ignore this truth. But in our ignorance, we embody only one side of the dance. I am coming to see fear as a means to awaken myself and come alive to the moment I am in now.

Facing fear is both acceptance of this life’s inevitable end and responsibility for desiring life now. About twenty years ago a regression therapist hypnotized me. In the hypnotic state I was directed through a tunnel to a cave where a fire should have been burning. Mary, the regressionist, asked me how brightly the flames burned, and I responded that the flame was low, a very small fire. She said, “oh dear, that is what I thought.” When I came out of the hypnotic state I asked her why she said that and what it meant. She said that the flame represents our desire for life. When the flame is low we do not have a strong desire to live this life. She did say, however, that some people see no flame at all, and that I saw one meant that I could fan this flame and learn to desire living.

My mother had little to no flame. She said many, many times that she would die and we would dance on her grave. She did die young. I have never danced on her grave, although one time shortly after she died I drove to the cemetery and briefly considered doing it. Death is always accompanied by anger. I was not only angry about her apparently self-willed death, I was angry about the way she lived and her enormous capacity for abusive meanness.

I died just a little for the first time in 1968 as a result of an eruption of said meanness. It was Christmas Eve day, and my sisters and I were huddled on the couch in our trailer watching Rocketship 7. I spied the chocolate milk balls wrapped in Christmas foil in the candy dish over the tv. I remembered that Mom had said we could eat them on Christmas, and so I began and convinced my sisters to join me. In short order we had emptied the dish. My mother had worked the third shift at Acme Electric and was asleep in the back of the trailer. When she got up and saw the red and green tinfoil strewn about the living area and the candy bowl empty, she flew into a rage. She screamed and yelled and swore, and she brutally heaved the entire Christmas tree, lights and ornaments and all, out the door into a snow bank. The shame of it punctured the center of my chest as if the tree had been a spear she drove right through me. I spent the rest of my childhood steeling myself against her rage, and never attended properly to the wounds.

To die before you die is to live. For me that means releasing the paralysis of shame I have embraced all these years. As devoid of content as so many people claim that social media is, I sometimes find morsels of wisdom there that allow entry into thoughts of relief. Recently two memes kept passing by, and each time I read them, they interrupted the ongoing noise of anger playing on repeat in the background of my conscious thought: when a parent is abusive to a child, the child does not stop loving the parent. She stops loving herself. And my mother’s failure was not so much in her inability to love me as it was in her inability to love herself. I have chosen to let these ideas speak to me and to forgive myself for all unkindnesses forged in a cycle of lovelessness.

I have come to see my own cancer diagnosis as a summons to appreciate my life. I am both dancers in this dance, acutely alive and not afraid to fly. I share this now in some small effort to say what I should say and finish what is left undone.

[elverted]

       dear  hopper,

   joyce  found  your  letter  in  your  things.  your  things  came  with  us  after  you  left  so  we  have  them  now.  i  thought  it  would  be  nice  if  i  wrote  a  letter  too,  joyce  says  i  can  say  goodbye  in  it.  but  i  do  not  know  how,  and  i  do  not  want  to.  we  are  moving  and  leaving  hawkins  soon.  we  are  going  far  away,  to  california  which  is  a  lot  longer  of  a  word  than  indiana  but  they  kind  of  sound  similar.  

we  are  moving  because  too  much  bad  has  happened  here,  they  say.  and  after  you  left,  it  does  not  feel  right.  you  do  not  have  to  worry  about  me,  since  i  am  living  with  joyce.  she  lets  me  sleep  in  will’s  room  so  will  and  jonathan  have  to  share  for  a  little  but  then  we  will  all  get  our  own  rooms  when  we  move.  i  am  scared  to  leave,  because  i  have  never  been  anywhere  else  other  than  when  i  ran  away.  but  this  time  we  are  not  coming  back.  and  it  is  scary,  to  not  know  where  i  am  going.  but  i  trust  joyce  to  know,  she  is  smart  and  has  helped  me  a  little  with  this  letter  so  i  hope  that  is  okay.

your  letter  said  to  remember  the  hurt  when  things  go  bad,  but  it  seems  like  hurt  is  all  there  is.  it  feels  like  i  am  out  of  one  cave,  and  now  in  a  second  one.  i  try  to  smile,  make  halfway  happy  everyday  but  it  is  hard.  i  did  not  expect  you  to  leave,  and  i  do  not  know  why  you  would.  they  say  it  is  okay  to  be  mad  at  you,  but  that  just  makes  me  feel  worse.  so  i  am  not  mad,  but  i  wish  i  could  tell  you  to  your  face  these  things.

joyce  says  you  are  not  coming  back,  even  if  you  could.  that  this  time  being  dead  was  real  for  you.  i  did  not  want to  believe  it,  and  wanted  to  find  you.  maybe  i  could,  if  i  did  not  lose  my  powers.  maybe  if  i  was  stronger,  i  could’ve  helped  more.  but  the  byers  say  its  not  my  fault.  that  accidents  happen,  and  that  you  would  not  want  me  to  blame  myself.  so  i  will  not.

i  wanted  to  say  thank  you  for  finding  me.  thank  you  for  letting  me  stay  in  your  cabin  and  make  me  feel  safe.  thank  you  for  teaching  me  about  so  many  things  and  for  trying  to  protect  me.  maybe  i  will  write  again  sometime,  even  if  i  know  you  will  not  read  it.

do  not  worry,  even  in  california  i  will  leave  the  door  open  three  inches.

                                                                  love,  jane

#echo home : drabbles #im going to bed now bye

[itslottiehere]

I’m so scared of not being depressed anymore and actually experiencing happiness; because what if I lose happiness again? I won’t survive it. Got anything for that?

hi dear 🤍 wow, this is a very difficult topic. i understand what you are going through, a little too well, unfortunately.

i’ve always been someone who felt emotions very strongly, which means that when i felt happy i felt like i could climb the highest mountain and touch the moon with my hand; but when i felt sad, i felt like the world was caving in on me. then, some day, it all stopped. no more feelings, no more highs, no more lows. just a grey, numb space. and i made myself comfortable in it.

i don’t have a magic way to make it all better, no matter how i wish i did. all i can say is that i know you’re stronger than you think you are, and that i know that you’re scared, and you have all reasons to be. i won’t lie to you, feelings hurt like a bitch sometimes, but i think that’s what comes with being human, and i think that’s also the better part of being human, at the end of the day.

maybe you’re not ready now, or even tomorrow or in a month from now. all i can hope is that you won’t live your life in fear of happiness, and that maybe someday you won’t feel so scared anymore. i know it’s going to sound stupid and obvious, but life comes with highs and lows that will make you the happiest and the saddest you’ve ever been, and it’s scary but so, so worth it. without the bad times, we wouldn’t be able to recognise the good ones.

i hope i didn’t say too many dumb things. if you ever want to talk again, my dms and asks are open.

i really hope you’ll feel better, soon. 🤍

#asks #anon