#a.d.d. is a beautiful thing....

[forbidden-creepypasta]

The Basement – And The Inexplicable Thing Within

I am yet another example of a person on the long list people with strange, creepy basement stories.

Even today, just hearing the word "basement" still sends a slight shiver down my spine, even though it's been about 35 years since the events in my childhood memories occurred. The word "cellar" provokes a similar response in me, although to a slightly lesser degree.

[semi-related] In the movie "Donnie Darko", Drew Barrymore's character claims that a famous linguist (it was actually J.R.R. Tolkien) once said that the phrase "Cellar Door" is the most beautiful combination of words in the English language.

[sperg] Well, he was wrong for saying it in the first place, and she was wrong for repeating it and perpetuating the idea that the phrase is somehow beautiful. It's not. It's downright disturbing. FUCK THAT, and FUCK HER, and FUCK THAT MOVIE and FUCK TOLKIEN (even though I really did actually like the movie, and Tolkien). Fuck ALL of them right up the ass for using that phrase at all, in any context. "Cellar Door" is, to me, one of the scariest possible combination of words.

(and yes, I know that Tolkein was both famous and a linguist, but "famous linguist" is a poor way to describe him. It's like calling David Berkowitz a "famous evangelist") [/sperg] [/semi-related]

This story was originally posted on a message board, where another member had posted an earlier 'basement' description. That other member's description seems very apt, and I'd like to quote an excerpt from that post:

Quote:

Also, there was a basement which had the whole "evil presence" thing going on. My mother flat out refused to go in there after the first time she did, and that was during broad daylight. My father only did with the door open and every light in the vicinity on. I remember vividly the feeling of abject terror I felt the one time, to my memory, that I went in there, not the kind of scared you feel when you're a kid and your mom turns the light out and shuts your room door, but the kind of scared you feel when every horror movie you've ever seen comes to life and coagulates in the form of suffocating, total darkness punctuated by a hundred eyes all staring at you with a deep burning hatred.

This is a very good (if somewhat understated) description of the feelings invoked. There are some differences; his basement was cold and seemed to affect everyone, while mine was warm and only affected children. Still, there are enough similarities to make me wonder if our basements may have been siblings born from the very same hell, or perhaps they were even connected at a deeper level; some twisted "dionaea basement" in which each of them was only a small part of a larger entity.

OK, I suppose that's enough of that particular rant - Here we go, on to the much longer ranting....

It's going to be a long story, filled with many irrelevant details and sidetracks that serve no real purpose other than to demonstrate how clearly I remember it; how it has burned itself into my mind. I will also make every attempt to portray my childhood memories (or perhaps imaginings) in a rational, skeptical adult manner.

I don't know how many of you are prepared to read the rambling, incoherent ravings of a madman recounting events from the lunacy of his childhood memories, so at this point you have two choices: (a) Skip my post and proceed to the next one; there is no "I looooooooooooooove them balls" (b) Sit back, relax, settle in, and prepare yourself for the ride.

If you choose option (b), I apologize in advance for my writing style, my propensity toward excessive verbosity, and for my apparent A.D.D.

-----------------------

Prologue: Introduction, and a Small Bit of Back-Story

As I mentioned, my 'basement story' is along the same lines as the "evil presence" mentioned in an earlier quote. It's quite a bit more complicated than most of the other basement stories I've read, including one that involved hearing strange noises only to discover that the noises were the result of a brother making out with girls.

I'm not saying that there weren't strange noises - there absolutely were, although just how strange is debatable. In retrospect, they may have been (and probably were) perfectly mundane "basement noises", but they did add an element of extra creepiness.

Noises like the occasional erratic metallic 'clink' or 'thunk' sound of pipes being tapped on. A steady 'bloop' at about 10-second intervals, suggesting a drip from some unseen leak. The sound of rushing water. All of those were likely just plumbing issues. Less frequently, I would hear a low 'moaning' sound, which quite probably was just wind somehow entering from outside, or circulating in some plumbing vents.

Looking back, there are many completely rational explanations for such noises, and it's likely that every old basement in every old house makes noises like these. At the time though, in my young mind, they were unfathomably ominous warning sounds. Those erratic 'clink' and 'thunk' tapping noises were intentional, and were designed to stimulate my curiosity; drawing me down into the basement to investigate their source. The dripping 'bloop' noises were maddeningly loud - much louder than they had any real right to be - and were similarly intended to lure me down in the hopes of shutting off whatever infernal faucet might be open. The rushing water noises only served to confuse me, but the damned moaning....

Oh, the moaning - Thankfully, it wasn't as constant as the drip, or as common as the tapping, but on the occasions that it did occur, it was indescribably horrific. It both drew me and repelled me at the same time. I didn't know if it was the call of someone who needed my help (perhaps the last victim who had made the unwise decision to enter that pit), or if it was a chorus consisting of all the voices of previous victims, warning me to stay the hell away.

To make things worse, none of the noises ever sounded entirely real - They all had an artificial quality, like sound-effects from a movie - Like shaking a piece of sheet-metal to simulate the sound of thunder, or clapping coconut-halves together for the sound of a horse galloping. I could never (and still can't) quite place my finger on it, but something about the noises was always very 'off'. The 'not-quite-right' feeling inherent in the sound may have been due to the shape/acoustics of the room. All sounds coming through the door from below the staircase seemed to be amplified, and a short echo/delay ambiance was applied before the sound waves reached my ears.

I didn't understand concepts like 'acoustics' at the time. Maybe the alteration of the sounds were simply due to acoustics of the room, causing the sound waves to resonate in such an unusual fashion....

But then again, maybe the sounds were altered intentionally to disguise their artificiality. Hearing the noises through the open door at the top of the staircase created the feeling that the noises just somehow just didn't belong. As if they had actually originated from some other source, elsewhere in the universe, but had been transported into this basement through some rift in space-time. When the door was shut, the noises could (mercifully) no longer be heard at all. I'm not saying that the door simply muffled the noises, but rather that it somehow canceled them out altogether.

-----------------------

The Story Begins... Herein Lies Danger

During my childhood, my family moved around a lot. My father worked for a government agency that would transfer him to different locations on a fairly regular basis. Every year or two, we'd be in a different city or state, moving into a new home.

I was probably about 7 years old when we moved into the house with the “haunted” basement. Perhaps "haunted" isn't even the right word to use - It was never really clear to me whether the basement itself was alive, or if something else, something very evil, was residing within it. I suppose the distinction is meaningless, because whatever it might have been, it's energy was always focused in that one particular part of the house.

I'm not certain exactly when, how or even why I came to the conclusion that it was haunted. I only knew that it terrified me to my very core, in a way that I had never been frightened before and haven't been since.

The house had a small storage/utility room just outside of the kitchen, around the corner from the pantry closet. The room itself was largely unremarkable – It contained a deep-sink with one of those old-style hand-crank laundry wringers attached, the type that squeezes the water from fabric by pressing it between two rollers. In one corner of the room were the usual basic items you might expect to find in such a room – A mop & bucket, a broom & dustpan, nothing out of the ordinary. There was an arched entryway leading to the kitchen, a door leading outside and of course, the other door – the door which I later concluded led directly into hell.

The door's handle was on the left, and hinges on the right. It opened inward toward the stairs, where there was about a 4-foot long platform before the staircase descended along the left wall. Thinking back on it, this was a pretty poor design and potentially dangerous to someone who might have been coming up the stairs. Opening the door at the wrong moment could easily knock someone down the staircase, or send them plummeting over the railing. Of course, I never thought about such things at the time. There was a light-switch on the left wall just inside the door.

From the doorway at the top of the staircase I couldn't actually see much of the basement, even if I flipped on the light-switch. The light illuminated the stairs well enough, but not much of the basement itself. That godforsaken room seemed to be shrouded in perpetual darkness. I could just barely make out the shape of the washing machine at the far right of my field of view.

At some point within the first week of moving into this new house (before I had become aware of IT), my natural inclinations toward exploring led me toward the basement, just to play around, as children are often wont to do. At the time, the basement was new to me - it was (in my mind) 'unexplored territory'. Like most young boys, I was prone to silly delusions of being an explorer, a discoverer, even when my 'exploring' or 'discovery' was limited to something as mundane as rooms in my own home.

I was a young child, and I didn't know any better - It wasn't until much later that I realized it's a bad idea to intrude into areas where something might prefer to be left alone - a sleeping beast is best left undisturbed - once awoken, a beast is obligated to behave in a manner consistent with it's beastly nature.

Whatever force it was, it had decided I was unwelcome, and I somehow, instinctively knew it didn't want me around. I got the unmistakable impression that it didn't like me very much at all - or perhaps it did. Maybe it liked me a little too much.

The basement stank, as well. Standing atop the stairs, I could smell a very unpleasant fetid, musty odor – like the stench of decay mixed with mildew and something else – something hot. I could feel warm, dank air emanating up from within those murky depths, and I also felt a presence – A sentient presence. It hinted at secrets waiting to be unearthed - It knew something I didn't, and it wouldn't reveal it's dark secrets unless I went down and succumbed to it's clutches. At times, it seemed only to be playfully mischievous, trying to coax me in. At other times there was no mistaking that it basement had wicked, malevolent intentions.

I never actually even set foot inside it; I was too frightened. Just looking down into it, I could feel the small hairs all over my body standing on end, as if even my very skin could sense the danger that lurked within that subterranean crypt, awaiting my arrival. I distinctly remember standing in the doorway at the top of the stairs, staring down into the emptiness, the dark abyss of the unknown and unknowable, desperately trying to muster up enough courage to descend into what I was convinced must be a magical portal to some other world; simultaneously wondrous and terrifying.

I could never do it. Fear would paralyze me before I could take even the first step down that foreboding staircase. I would stand there in complete and utter horror, sweating, on the verge of tears, until eventually something would snap and I'd regain just enough control of myself to run away. And run, I did. Every single time.

Over time, my fear of whatever unimaginable evil lurked within the basement extended to the doorway leading to that monstrous room. I began avoiding even the door to the basement, as if getting too close to the door would cause me to be sucked in, where I would surely suffer unspeakable atrocities. I did my best to keep at least five feet away from that malignant, venomous doorway.

-----------------------

Friends visiting

Much like any other child, I had friends who would come to visit, play, or have the occasional sleepover. On a few occasions (when my parents weren't around, or weren't paying attention) I would dare my friends to enter the basement. None of them ever did. I never told them exactly why the basement was a scary place (and to be honest, I really didn't understand it myself - I still don't).

They all seemed very willing to take the dare, but as they approached the door they always faltered. One of them (Paul) came closer than most; and (admittedly) closer than I ever had - He walked down the stairway to almost the halfway point, where he froze. Solid. After a moment, he turned and bolted back up the the stairs. He didn't stop once he reached the kitchen, either. He kept running straight through, and locked himself in the bathroom for 10 or 15 minutes. When he finally came out he was sweating, shaking all over, and unable to maintain eye-contact - with anyone - for the rest of the night. He refused to talk about it.

My parents seemed to think that he might be ill, and they called his parents to express their concerns. I don't know exactly what transpired in that phone call, but I guess it was decided that everything was OK, because Paul's parent's didn't come pick him up. At least, not right then.

In the middle of the night, Paul woke me up and said that he had to go home. I told him to shut up. I wanted to go back to sleep. He started crying and babbling about wanting to go home. After a little while, the noise woke my parents up. It was tremendously embarrassing to me - I was sure they'd never allow another sleepover after this kid woke them up in the middle of the night with his blubbering. After all, he was my friend, I was the one who invited him here, and now he's causing problems, interrupting their sleep. They told me it was OK, sometimes kids get scared for no reason. They said the best thing to do would be to let him call home, and maybe it would help him to feel better.

My father made the phone call. He woke Paul's mother, and explained (as best he could) the situation to her. Then he gave the phone to Paul. Paul immediately resumed crying the moment the phone was put into his hand. He begged his mother to come pick him up, that he needed to go home... I can still hear the tone in his voice, and the way he stretched out the vowels; the "e" in the word "need" and the "o" in "home". He told us all that was feeling sick, but he couldn't look any of us in the eye, and I could see the look of abject terror on his face. I knew it was the basement that had frightened him away from my house. I felt bad for daring him to go down there. He wound up gathering the few belongings he had brought with him, and my father drove him home.

Paul and I never spoke much after that - It was almost like we weren't friends anymore, for some reason. Over the short course of time that I lived there, I'd see him at school and he'd usually avert his gaze, as though there was some unspoken thing which he didn't want to acknowledge. In any case, we were never really friends again; he seemed to get very uncomfortable around me and distanced himself - In fact, I don't think I ever saw him have any friends at all for the rest of the time I went to school there.

[unrelated side-story] It's not really pertinent to the story, but a few years ago, my mother sent me an email containing a web-link to a news story about Paul - She'd stayed in contact with his parents throughout the years. As it turned out, Paul had grown up (as we all do), married a very nice woman, and had 2 children. He also got a job as a schoolteacher in the same town and school district where I had known him.

Apparently at some point, Paul developed an unhealthy sexual appetite involving 9-yr-old girls He was teaching third-grade, and one of his students had come forward with allegations of molestation, quickly followed by several other girls he had taught. While he was awaiting trial on multiple charges, he died from a self-administered rapid overdose of lead poisoning delivered directly to his brain via the barrel of a shotgun. [/unrelated side-story]

-----------------------

The Grown-Ups Couldn't Sense It

Judging from the reactions of every single one of my childhood friends who ever came into close contact with the basement, we children seemed to be (in some fashion) attuned to the presence of whatever was lurking within it. We could sense it, even though adults were entirely unaware of it, and thus unaffected.

Maybe it's one of those senses that naturally become duller as we age, like the gradual degradation of our eyesight, or losing the ability to hear high frequency sound waves. Maybe it's just due to the fact that as children, we are more vulnerable and thus more inclined to pay attention to such instincts. Whatever the reason, we could feel it, while my parents never showed any signs of being even the slightest bit frightened by the basement. I never mentioned my fear to them for a variety of (completely illogical and nonsensical) reasons that I'll attempt to explain later.

Occasionally, I'd see my mother coming up from the basement; usually carrying a hamper full of clean laundry or performing some other routine household chore. I marveled at the courage she must possess, to have dared enter that abomination beneath the house. I was in complete awe of her bravery, she had willingly entered the room alone and unafraid (and even more surprisingly, she had returned safely from it's depths). This led me to a simple conclusion, and brought me a small amount of hope – After all, I knew how powerful the presence in basement was – If it felt the need to hide itself from her, then she must be even more powerful still, for it to fear her. I don't recall ever seeing her actually enter the basement, only seeing her return. I may have just 'blacked-out' any memory of seeing her enter, as the thought would have been too traumatic for my young mind to cope with.

I'd like to think that if I'd seen her entering that dreadful tomb, I would have warned her not to go, even pleaded with her if necessary. Truth is, I probably wouldn't have. I would probably have been too afraid to voice my objections, knowing that the basement might hear me. I knew that it was evil, and I knew that it was dangerous, yet I had the suspicion that just maybe, it didn't know that I knew. Somehow, my intuition told me that I'd be safer if I didn't let it find out that I knew about it. As long as it didn't know I was aware of it, I could avoid it - but if it found out that I knew, it would have no other choice – it would be forced to get rid of me.

For the rest of the time that we lived in that house, I avoided that door like some demonic infectious disease that was absolutely, without-any-doubt, determined to destroy me (or worse). As I said before, I didn't mention my fear to my parents or anyone else. Using my childhood logic, saying it out-loud might awaken "the bad thing" and bring it directly to me, like some unearthly spectral dog-whistle. It seemed to be confined to the basement (for now), perhaps it was even trapped there and unable to come out. Speaking of it aloud might be like "calling it's name", which could free it from it's underground prison and allow it to come for me. I tried my best to hide my fear, because I somehow knew that if my parents found out about that fiendishly diabolical and loathsome entity, then the basement would be forced to deal with them, as well. It must have had some nefarious reason for not making itself known to them – it didn't want them to know about it. As old superstitions go, saying something out loud calls it to you, and telling someone else brings it to them.

Looking back on it, I suppose they had to know how frightened I was even though I never told them. I don't think they could have possibly not noticed how consciously I avoided that door, and how quickly I moved when I did have to walk by it.

----------------------- Relief at last -----------------------

After about a year, we moved out of that house and to a different state. I still remember that basement (well, what little of it I ever actually saw) in great detail, and I'll never forget how I would become consumed by sheer terror whenever I came into close proximity to it.

-----------------------

Epilogue - More recent times

A couple of years ago while I was visiting my mother, we were talking and something reminded me of all this. I don't remember what, exactly. I don't even remember what the topic of conversation was at the time, most likely something inconsequential, but something she said, or something I said, or perhaps something on TV reminded me (all it usually takes is hearing the word "basement").

In an off-handed sort of way, I mentioned it to her. I don't remember exactly what I said, but I remember being shocked by the way she reacted to it. What I said was probably something mostly innocuous, like "remember when I was little, how scared I was of the basement".

She just stared at me blankly, with a very strange look on her face, and didn't say anything all. After a few seconds (not your usual 'few seconds' - these were seconds that felt like days, or perhaps weeks - timeless, infinite seconds during which I became increasingly uncomfortable), when the silence had reached a deafening crescendo and my discomfort level had peaked, I tried to change the subject. She wouldn't allow that. To my horror, she only stared at me quizzically and asked me to repeat myself. The remainder of the conversation proceeded something like this:

Quote:

"What did you just say?" "Ah - mmm, nevermind, it's nothing - just thinking out loud." "No, you weren't - What did you just say?" "I'm going to get another cup of coffee - do you want one?" "Stop avoiding my question - I want to know what you meant - Something about a basement?" "It's not important, really" "Tell me." "I was just saying how much it scared me when I was little." - [blank stare from mom] - "I was really glad when we moved out of that house." - [blank stare from mom] - "It's silly, I know." "We've never had a basement."

Of course, I didn't believe her. I even argued with her a little. I described the door, the stairway, the noises... All to no avail. I tried reminding her of the night that Paul came for a sleepover, and how he had awoken so frightened that he refused to stay - she remembered the night, but she insisted that Paul had just gotten sick.

I mentioned that the laundry machines were in the basement - She simply had to remember it; she'd been down there many times. She refused to hear any part of it - She remembered the small utility room outside the kitchen, but according to her, the laundry machines had been located in that room, and there was no door leading to a downward staircase. After a very frustrating conversation, it seemed that there was simply no way I would ever be able to make her remember, and she seemed to give up on trying to convince me.

Later that evening, she brought out an old photo album. She sat down with me and went through photos of every house we had lived in while I was growing up. Photos of every location we had ever moved to, every city and state. She could tell me what years we lived in each home and how old I was at the time. She wanted me to point out which house I was talking about. I couldn't identify which particular house it had been. Although I could narrow it down to two possible houses based simply on my age at the time, neither one of them looked like the right house from my memory. The pictures were all familiar to me, I remembered the houses, but I couldn't place precisely which one of them it had been since none of them looked quite right. She could narrow it down to one particular house; being that it was the town where we had met Paul's family. She swore that it didn't have a basement, nor did ANY home we'd EVER lived in

-----------------------

In Conclusion

I sometimes wonder if perhaps the basement managed to somehow erase itself from her memory - Of course that would mean that it had altered my memory as well, rendering me unable to identify the house in which it dwelt, and thus preventing me from ever disclosing it's whereabouts.

I try not to think about it too much, or too often, and I've once again decided that I probably shouldn't ever tell this story out loud.

Rationally, I realize that there's no real danger in vocalizing any of this, but a part of me still thinks that maybe, just maybe, there just might be. I have nothing to gain by saying it out loud, but I also stand to lose nothing by remaining silent about it just in case it can still hear me.

Credit to: Volponi

#creepypasta #horror microfiction #creepy stories #horror fiction

[deep-dive]

best songs of 2010 - - - - - - - Alexis Jordan - Happiness Antony & The Johnsons - The Spirit Was Gone Austra - Young and Gay Baths - Iniuria Palace Blondes - Paradise City Bonnie Pink - Sweet (Todd Edwards Vocal Mix) Bring Me the Horizon - Don't Go Capsule - Love or Lies Christina Aguilera - Elastic Love Christina Milian - Chameleon Ciara - Ride (ft. Ludacris) CocoRosie - R.I.P. Burnface Crystal Castles - Empathy Diddy & Dirty Money - Ass on the Floor (ft. Swizz Beatz) Drake - Shut It Down (ft. The-Dream) Ellie Goulding - Lights Emeralds - Now You See Me f(x) - Nu ABO Feist - Intuition (Chilly Gonzales Solo Piano) Florrie - Call 911 (Fred Falke Remix) Future Islands - Long Flight Games - Strawberry Skies (ft. Laurel Halo) Geneva Jacuzzi - Love Caboose Gesaffelstein - Glass (Original Mix) Girl's Day - Nothing Lasts Forever Gold Panda - Back Home Grouper - Hold HEALTH - In Heat (Javelin Rmx) Heidi Montag - Look How I'm Doing Hype Williams - Blue Dream Jeremih - Down on Me (ft. 50 Cent) Joanna Newsom - Does Not Suffice Joanna Newsom - Go Long Julian Lynch - Mare Katy B - Katy On a Mission Keiichi Okabe - His Dream Kelis - Home Kendal Johansson - Blue Moon Keyshia Cole - I Ain't Thru (ft. Nicki Minaj) Kisses - People Can Do the Most Amazing Things The Knife - Colouring of Pigeons Kylie Minogue - Put Your Hands Up (If You Feel Love) Lady Gaga - So Happy I Could Die M.I.A. - It Takes a Muscle Mariah Carey - Up Out My Face (ft. Nicki Minaj) Masashi Hamauzu - Fang's Theme (Piano) Masashi Hamauzu - The Sunleth Waterscape Masayoshi Fujita & Jan Jelinek - Waltz (A Lonely Crowd) Matthew Herbert - Oliver Bauer Max Richter - Infra 3 & 5 Meg - GRAY Memory Tapes - Easy Pert Mom Mindless Self Indulgence - Genius Mini Viva - I'm Hooked Mutsumi - Look Down At Your Feet Below Mutsumi - 58, 26, 34, & 20 Naomi Elizabeth - Valentine Nicki Minaj - Catch Me No Joy - You Girls Smoke Cigarettes? Oneohtrix Point Never - Returnal (Anohni Vers.) Pantha du Prince - A Nomad's Retreat Perfume - Natural Ni Koishite Perfume Genius - Learning Portishead - Chase the Tear The Radio Dept. - On Your Side Rihanna - Skin Robyn - Get Myself Together Schwefelgelb - Wie ich heiß Scissor Sisters - Invisible Light Sean Kingston - Letting Go (Dutty Love) [ft. Nicki Minaj] Sufjan Stevens - Futile Devices Tanlines - Real Life Teams - We Have a Room With Everything Teengirl Fantasy - Dancing in Slow Motion (ft. Shannon Funchess) Teeth - See Spaces (Dreamtrak Diamond Sound Remix) These New Puritans - Thought Rush Tiësto & Sneaky Sound System - I Will Be Here (Wolfghang Gartner Edit) Trey Songz - Unfortunate Two Door Cinema Club - What You Know Uffie - A.D.D. S.U.V. (Armand Van Helden Club Remix) Underworld - Scribble Utada Hikaru - Beautiful World (PLANiTb Acoustica Mix) Vitamin String Quartet - I Caught Myself White Ring - Roses Wild Nothing - Chinatown Women - Eyesore Xiu Xiu - House Sparrow Yoko Shimomura - An Earnest Desire of Grey 4Minute - Muzik

[simmerandcry]

Oh. My. God. I just read Blink Twice all in one sitting. I genuinely cannot express how enthusiastic I am. Words cannot describe how AMAZING, ENTHRALLING, and BEAUTIFUL it is! The plot was impeccable, the way you wrote the character was so interesting too! I really related to the way you wrote them + I also have A.D.D, and I was a lifeguard for a summer. One thing that really shows how good a story is, is how much I smile. My cheeks hurt. Despite the angst, you had some really funny moments(1/2)

(2/2) You had such sweet moments, and I miss smiling this much. I love all of the little quips, & I especially love how you ended it with them being together& happy& being their dorky selves, &natashas initial foreshadowing of "dont go fall in love." Im so glad you decided to write and expand on that story, bc it's literal gold. Sorry for making this message so long, I just really wanted to share my unending appreciation. TL;DR, I LOVE THIS STORY! Im glad I discovered you, cant wait to read more

Oh my gosssssh I have been savouring this sweet sweet message all day, like a piece of delicious, mouthwatering, silky chocolate.

I can't say thank you enough for sharing all your thoughts with me! it really means so much that you reached out and more than that, I'm really glad to have made you smile so much. 💕💕💕 it made me smile a lot as I wrote it and even now as I'm re-reading it.

it felt a touch too self-indulgent when I started out but then I decided to just lean into it, and, well, I'm really happy with how it all wrapped up.

I like to write for my target audience first (I am my target audience lol) but I am so glad so many people enjoyed it too!! thank you, thank you, thank you again. you've made my heart so warm today.

(For anyone out there in the void interested, you can read chapter one of Blink Twice right here!)

#simmer replies #this was the nicest anon message on a terrible stressful day #thank you thank you thank you #story: blink twice #simmerandcry #simmerandwrite

[theoldman]

my brain processes information differently and because of that I struggle with things that may seem simple for others but are earth shattering for me. if you are one who suffers from depression, a.d.d, o.c.d, p.t.s.d ... know that you are not alone. I know you can and will get through this because like me you have gotten through many difficult times. you are stronger than you realize. you have already faced many great challenges in your life and you are still here. I honor and celebrate the beauty of your heart, soul and spirit. I believe in you. you can do this. you are loved.

MicHEAL Teal 

The Ancient One 

[daisychains111]

Happy Birthday Annie Cresta

Annie Cresta was born on July 28th, 56 A.D.D.

This day is more officially known as The Anniversary of  Rebel Defeat but is more commonly known as Reaping Day. 

 July 28th, 59 A.D.D- Age 3

Adrina goes up on the stage, mommy’s crying. Annie doesn’t understand why everyone is so upset, especially on her birthday. But she never sees her big sister again, except in a strange wooden box about a month later.

July 28th, 62 A.D.D- Age 6

Ridley Zale is Annie’s favorite babysitter, she lets her eat taffy before dinner and lets Annie do her make-up. It makes Annie sad that Ridley has to go up on that stage, she doesn’t understand why people who go up there never come home, and she can’t help but feel scared of her birthday.

July 28th 65 A.D.D- Age 9

Aegir sings her happy birthday as he brushes her hair. Mommy died and can’t do it anymore but when her brother does it he pulls too hard. The Reaping takes place as normal but this time Annie knows why the people up on stage never come back.

July 28th 66 A.D.D- age 10

Annie cries as Aegir gets himself ready. 

He tells her thats stupid. If he gets reaped she’ll have no one left to love her. Aegir doesn’t say anything to that, but he hopes harder that it’s not his name called.

#  #  #

Annie’s world shatters into a million pieces as Aegir’s name echoes around the square, but someone shouts and Aegir never steps foot on that scary stage. Instead a boy named Finnick, with sandy hair and green eyes, climbs the stairs, head held high, and this Finnick does come home, the youngest Victor in Hunger Games history according to the news reports. 

July 28th 68 A.D.D- Age 12

Annie wakes up screaming at 5 o’clock in the morning. Images of cruel, slow deaths, threatening to rip her apart, her twelfth birthday bringing her first reaping. She picks up a badly wrapped gift from Aegir thats sits on the table as she slips out the door to her favorite hiding spot. She found this spot when she was 7, and comes here when she’s nervous. It usually helps her clear her mind. She wades into the water and welcomes the tightness in her chest as she goes under. Someone rips her out from the water. Finnick Odair thought she was drowning for how long she had been under. 

#  #  #

Annie hardly notices her reaping after that. She couldn’t help but stare into the eyes of the 16-year-old victor who sits on stage. And by mid-October Finnick and Annie are best friends

July 28th 71 A.D.D- Age 15 

Finnick gives her a shell bracelet and a kiss on the cheek for her 15th birthday. Aegir rolled his eyes and tells her that Finnick is too old for her.

She feels really pretty, in her white dress and sandals, with her brown hair flying freely around her shoulders. Her best friend Sayla bought her little sea glass clips that stand out like stars in the decorative braids that wrap around her head. Ms. Luna made her a cupcake. Annie is happy, the reaping is the last thing on her mind. She locks eyes with Finnick from on stage, he smiles wildly at her before the escort begins the Reaping, he’s gonna be a mentor this year. 

#  #  #

Annie barely registers her name being called. A boy named Jonah joins her. She has never been on this stage before, she wishes she could have kept it that way. 

#  #  #

She is dressed like a mermaid for the parade, she gets a 7 in training, her interview dress is pale blue. Her mentor, Mags, is an old woman. Finnick is never around, but when he is, he looks tired. The games start, Annie’s first kill is the girl from 7, her name was Nova, she was 13. Annie cried herself to sleep that night. The tributes from 1 and 2 don’t like her, but they like Jonah, and Annie and Jonoh are a package deal. Ten days in, Annie and Jonah break off from the others in the middle of the night. On day thirteen, Jonah’s head rolls at her feet. Annie screams and screams, part of her is never the same after that. The ground shakes and Annie welcomes the tightness in her chest as she goes under water. She was under so long people thought she was dead, but it was trumpets, not a cannon that follow Annie Cresta, the victor of the 70th Hunger Games.

#  #  #

Annie screams on stage when her games show up on the screen. This is not what The Capital wanted, Annie never sees Aegir ever again. The grey hair of her mentor and the green eyes of her friend try to comfort her. Annie throws her head back and laughs.

#  #  #

Annie stands up on the stage, Finnick is holding her hand. Her district claps. But there is no one in the world that loves her. Annie Cresta may have won, but once you go on that stage you never truly come home.

July 28th 73 A.D.D- Age 17

Mags is still in the hospital, Finnick is on his way to the capital. It’s funny how much time he spends there. He told Annie that he loved her, she laughed. He left her though, for that awful place, it’s funny how much he goes there.

July 28th 75 A.D.D- Age 19

Finnick wakes her up with a kiss on her nose. He stayed just for her. They go to the reaping and he holds her hand the whole way home. They pack a lunch and go to the cove. Mags watches as the two play in the water like small children. Annie has never felt so happy in her whole life. She loves Finnick and Finnick loves her, and not even the president can take that from her. This is the best birthday of her entire life.

#  #  #

The Quell is announced on January 2nd. Finnick locks himself in his room, Mags bakes 4 dozen cookies, Annie covers her ears and laughs like she’s never laughed before. 

July 28th 76 A.D.D- Age 20

There are so few of them that they stand the Victors on the stage looking down at the rest of the district. Annie hears her name called, Mags volunteers before Annie has the chance to scream or cry or laugh. Finnick name is called and this time she drops to her knees and covers her ears. In one month, at least half of everyone who loves her will be dead and that isn’t even funny to Annie. 

#  #  #

The poem moves everyone to tears. Finnick loves her. And she loves Finnick, but as he proclaims this the entire nation her tears are anything but warm. 

 #  #  #

The cannon echoes around her skull. Her old mentor falling to the ground in repeat in her mind. It had been Mags who held her when the world was the darkest. It had been Mags who taught her to make cookies. It had been Mags who battled Annie’s demons when Aegir seemed to vanish into thin air. It was Mags who combed Annie’s hair when Annie didn’t bother. It was Mags who let Annie move into a spare room in her house. It was Mags that she went to when Finnick was driving her up a wall. It was Mags who had seen her at her highest highs and lowest lows. It was Mags who insisted on doing everything on her own, even after she had her stroke. It was Mags who was the strongest, most powerful, loving person Annie had ever met. It was Mags who was dead. Not the blonde boy from 12, but Mags. Annie couldn’t even scream, she didn’t even laugh. She was just numb.

#  #  #

Annie pleads with the television. Finnick I’m safe. Finnick I’m fine. But he doesn’t hear her, he just runs through the jungle, looking for something he’ll never find, in a fashion that would make Crazy Annie Cresta look sane.

 #  #  #

The arena explodes and Annie laughs. Take that Snow. 

#  #  #

The peacekeepers knock on her door. She wakes up in the Capital. Annie has never screamed so loud in her whole life.

#  #  #

A boy with brown hair takes her and leads her to a hovercraft. When they land she hears him before she sees him. Finnick. Her Finnick, alive and well. The kiss is long and sweet. Annie’s head hasn’t felt this clear in 4 years.

#  #  #

She feels really pretty, in her white dress and sandals, with her brown hair flying freely around her shoulders. Tin clips, standing out like stars in the decorative braids that wrap around her head. Peeta made them a cake. Annie is happy, the war is the last thing on her mind. She locks eyes with Finnick from across their hands, he smiles wildly at her before the pastor begins the ceremony. Crazy Annie Cresta is dead. Annie Odair laughs from real joy, she’s never felt so safe.

                                                      #  #  #

Aegir Odair. That’s what she decides. Finnick is off in the capital, fighting the war, but he will like that, he will be happy to be a father. Annie hasn’t had an episode in two months. Maybe this baby will make things better. Maybe she will be a good mom.

#  #  #

She drops a vase when Gale tells her. He holds her as she screams, but it’s not the same.

Annie Cresta feels 15 all over again. Screaming her head off. Rocking back and forth. Fighting off the demons left to her by a poor dead boy. He is dead. The youngest Victor in Panam history. Her mentor. Her best friend. Her husband. Finnick Odair is dead. Finnick Odair will never know he’s a father. Finnick Odair will never meet his son. But that’s not why Annie cries. Annie cries because she will never again see his beautiful green eyes. She will never again hear his contagious laugh. She will never again be conformed by his strong hugs. So Annie screams, because there is no one left in the world that loves her.

July 28th 83 A.D.D- Age 27 

Aegir has his mother's hair and his father's eyes. She smiles down at him as he sings her happy birthday. Her sweet little  7-year-old, with his missing front teeth. Annie Odair hasn’t had an episode in 5 years. Annie Odair is a good mother. Finnick Odair would have been proud. She may have lost her husband but she has never felt so much love in her whole life. Annie is happy.

#hunger games #annie cresta #finnick x annie #finnick odair #mags (hunger games)

[scaredbisexual]

Pure Art | Reddie Fic

Photographer!Eddie and Artsy!Richie

Word Count: 3316

Warnings: Cursing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Anxiety Attack, Self-consciousness

EDIT: I FORGOT TO TELL YOU BUT IT WAS PROOF-READ BY WONDERFUL @fuckboykaspbrak I’M SORRY

Chapter Three

“We are going thrift shopping? Oh my god, Eddie, you sure know how to treat a guy!” Richie squeaked when they arrived at their next stop. He crouched down to place a wet, loud kiss on Eddie’s cheek and then jumped up in excitement.

“Well, yeah, you need some other clothes for the photo shoot, I can’t have my professors knowing I took all of the photos today,” Eddie answered while smiling sweetly. He raised his hand to caress the place where Richie kissed him and bit his lip. That was nice. “Go on, find something you think is not complete shit.”

The thrift shop was not his initial plan, not really, but then he saw all of the stains on Richie’s clothes from eating and decided that the boy needed a makeover. What he told Richie wasn’t a lie though, he didn’t want his professor to know he had been slacking off the entire semester. Eddie was a good student, a boy with big dreams and even bigger ambition. It was dripping off of him, he was soaked with passion and creativity- everyone could see it.  

The thing was, he was also a perfectionist. He hated half-assing things and he had to be 100% sure he liked something before letting someone else see it. That’s why the portfolio was a huge challenge for him.  

They spent some time rummaging through the big shop, looking for the things they thought would look nice in photographs. Eddie had so many places he wanted to take pics of Richie in, he couldn’t decide where to go first and what he wanted Richie to wear.  

“Okay, time for some fashion show, Eds!” the taller boy shouted from somewhere behind Eddie. He looked at his watch and decided that yes, it was indeed time for them to get out of there. They had about nine hours to complete Eddie’s portfolio, they could do it, yeah.

Richie’s picks were first to go. At the beginning they both agreed to choose two outfits that they thought would look nice in a photo shoot and shouted RICHIE. Eddie sat in front of the changing room, anxiously playing with his fingers. He didn’t know Richie and was afraid that the boy was going to make a big joke out of his task, and Eddie couldn’t afford losing any time. He was pulled out of his thoughts because of the fitting room’s door being kicked open, revealing Richie in his finest.  

The boy’s first choice was a pair of colorful trousers with a print of sunflowers on it, a black long-sleeved t-shirt with “ALL ROCK’N ROLL IS HOMOSEXUAL” written on, tucked inside the trousers, with its sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He tied his hair into a bun, but there still were a few loose locks framing his face.

“Wow, that’s awesome!” Eddie sighed happily and clapped his hands in excitement. He was truly relieved that the other boy decided to put some effort into it and actually did what he was asked to. His heart swelled a bit while watching Richie smiling proudly and biting his lower lip. He looked really adorable, his skinny frame was hidden under the loose top, his fingers anxiously playing with fabric of his trousers. “But wait-” he smiled wickedly while watching Richie’s hands and ran across the store, looking around frantically in search of something he had seen earlier. He came back with black rings and a plain pendant, he also carried a pair of sunflower-shaped sunglasses with him.

Richie smiled so widely at the sight of it, and then even more when he put the stuff on. He looked ridiculous. But also, like, totally hot and in his element? Eddie couldn’t help but reach for his camera when Richie started making silly poses and acting like he was at a music festival.

“Oh-ma-gawd, Rebeccca! Can you like, believe it? We’re gonna see ‘em live, bitch!”

Click. Click. Click.

Richie stilled for a moment, his hand raised to his face in a mock shock, his sunglasses sitting in his hair. He turned around to Eddie and shot him a look that screamed embarrassment. Oh no.

Eddie raised his eyebrows and scanned Richie’s frame in search of any other indications of shame or regret of doing it, but he found none. There was some anxiety visible in the boy’s moves, what made Eddie smile softly and step closer. He knew damn well how it was to not believe in himself and feel intimidated in front of the camera. A few months before he and his friend, Mike, were assigned together to a task in photography class and Mike would take pictures of Eddie all the time. The smaller boy would react the same way Richie did- hide his face and blush furiously in embarrassment, it is, until Mike told him:

“You look stunning, man,” Eddie said, hand resting on Richie’s shoulder and his own eyes searching Richie’s. The taller boy smiled bashfully and shook his head.

“Yeah, get out of here, it’s only my first outfit!” he shouted, trying to turn this situation into a joke. And who was Eddie to stop him? He just raised his hands in surrender and backed out of the small space.  

While the taller boy was changing, Eddie got consumed by his thoughts. He started noticing small things about Richie, how he would bashfully touch curls behind his ear when Eddie was looking at him for a bit too long, how he always took some time to get comfortable with the other boy taking pictures of him, the way he blushed and turned everything into joke. Eddie didn’t know him too well, one could say he didn’t know him at all, but he felt a strong connection between them all the same. He felt something weird when their fingers brushed while walking, his anger seemed more tame than usual, but awake all the same when Richie was pulling his strings a bit too hard.  

Have you ever been in a museum by an accident? Have you walked past some and decided to go inside, explore it, get consumed by art? Well, Eddie has. When he was starting his escapade with college and this whole “big city life”, he would sometimes go out of his apartment and just stroll through parks and colorful streets. Once he got to another side of the city and discovered a small museum situated in the suburbs. The building was beautiful itself, monumental and surrounded by different kinds of flowers. It felt like being inside a photograph, that’s how beautiful it was.  

Anyway, Eddie went inside, not knowing what to expect at all, bought a ticket and started his journey with art inside. He saw some nice painting, some awful ones too and the road and money he spent on it didn’t really seem worth it, but then he found himself in the last room, at the very end of the building. You see, there wasn’t a lot of people in that particular room. Most of the visitors got bored or tired, maybe even annoyed with the low-quality-art they saw and decided to leave earlier, not willing to explore the rest anymore. And what a shame that was.  

In the last room hang the most beautiful painting Eddie had ever seen. It was beautiful no matter how you looked at it, the lights and colors making an impression of the art becoming alive, taking the viewer inside on its way. And the boy was the happiest he had ever been, his cheeks hurt from smiling and eyes watered a bit when he sat in the room for hours, taking in the painting from each and every side, enjoying every little thing about it. It was pure art.

When Eddie met Richie he felt like he was entering the museum all over again. He felt as if his time would be wasted, wanted to resign as soon as they started. But as the time went, he seemed to be going through next rooms, exploring the beautiful thing that was Richie’s soul and mind, and he felt himself nearing the last room. There was something making him go, not allowing him to stop and Eddie decided to follow it in his search for pure art.

He got pulled out of his thoughts by awfully loud shriek coming out of the changing room. Eddie quickly got up and ran towards it, wanting to check if his companion was okay.  

Of course, Richie was only joking to get some attention on him and then continue the fashion show. Eddie sighed so loudly, that an elderly lady shot him a surprised glance and shook her head in annoyance.  

Richie’s next outfit was awfully normal, a t-shirt with some cartoon characters on it, black jeans and leather jacket- Eddie shook his head in boredom and gave him thumbs down. Richie only pouted and went to try on the other boy’s choices. Eddie was fidgeting on his seat, nervously picking on his lower lip, waiting for Richie’s reaction. It was a bold choice and Eddie was afraid that Richie would laugh in his face and throw it away. To his amazement the taller boy walked out of the changing room with the biggest smile and amusement visible in his eyes.

“Fuck, Eds, that’s sick!”

Richie was wearing bright pink overalls with a black, Trasher t-shirt underneath that fitted his body like a glove. He also had a black cap with “I have A.D.D. A Delicious Dick” written on it with capital, white letters, Eddie gave him also a pair of socks with daisies on them.  

He looked perfect, the dark colors complemented his complexion and brought out freckles and the overalls made him look incredibly soft and pretty. Eddie was sure he didn’t speak for a few minutes because he was so hypnotized by the sight.  

There were a few moments in that day that made Eddie wish his relationship with Richie could be something more. He was entranced with him, the awful jokes, never-closing mouth and over-expressive, beautiful face made him think about Richie as something more than a friend. Hell, he didn’t know if they even were friends, but he felt himself helplessly falling for the boy. But this exact moment when Richie cupped his own face with his big hands, titled his head and smiled sweetly and it was the moment that Eddie would remember as “Officially Wanting To Be His” moment.  

They finally chose the outfits and left the shop, Richie dressed in his pink overalls. They chatted, really excited about the next place Eddie was taking them.

“Your friend really owns a sunflower field? How awesome is that, oh god!” Richie groaned and hang his arm over Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him closer when they got inside yet another bus. Eddie smiled and looked at his feet while blushing furiously. He liked the heat of Richie’s body against his and the smell of his cologne mixed with thrift shop. Some men tried to push past the pair, making Eddie stand face to face with Richie, their chests almost touching. “That’s comfy, isn’t it?” Richie joked and winked down at the smaller boy. Eddie wanted to punch Richie’s stomach but the bus stopped in the same moment and he ended up tripping over his own feet. He landed in Richie’s stretched out, ready to save him, arms, their faces inches apart, noses almost touching.  

“I want to scream, that’s how cliché that shit is,” Eddie huffed, pushing himself away from Richie and standing straight. And maybe, just maybe his body tingled from the contact they made.  

They got to the field in few minutes, it not being that far away from the city. Mike, his dearest friend, agreed for them to use it when he talked with Eddie on the phone, while Eddie was waiting for Richie to gather his things in the thrift shop. He was the sweetest boy on earth and Eddie knew he would agree, but he also had a lot of respect for him and wanted to get his consent.  

“Listen, I, I need to move you around a bit-” Eddie muttered when they settled somewhere in the middle of the field. The sun was on its way down the sky and the light that illuminated them was truly magical. The air was thick with tension, mostly because of Eddie’s nerves connected with the whole assignment thing, but there was also some negative energy flowing out of Richie. “-Okay, lay down and, yeah, turn your head a bit, that’s good, aha!”

Richie was situated on the floor, his head turned towards the sky, chin high and eyes closed. Eddie pulled his hands up, so that he looked like he was making a snow angel in the sunflowers. Richie’s eyes fluttered nervously, his cheeks heated up noticeably and his hands grabbed some grass to calm himself down. Eddie didn’t notice it, too focused on some settings on his camera, so when he looked up and saw a single tear running down Richie’s cheek, he felt all the air leave his body.

“Oh no, no, no, no, no, no,” the smaller boy muttered, putting his camera aside and crunching down next to Richie. He still had his eyes tightly closed, lip quivering a bit and chest heaving. “Hey, hey Rich, look at me, come on,” he whispered, a bit uncomfortable. He had never comforted anyone while crying, well, anyone that he didn’t know well. His mind was spiraling, there was no information about what could make Richie calm down and that’s what made him so scared. He didn’t want to fuck it up.  

Richie’s face scrunched up and he shook his head, still not moving from his position.

“Come on, ‘Chee, please, what’s going on?”

“I can’t do it, Eds, I’m so sorry.” he finally sat up and opened his puffed eyes. He scanned the area wildly, not wanting to look Eddie in the eye. He wanted to stand up but Eddie quickly pushed him down, holding him tightly.  

“What, Richie? What can’t you do, hmmm?” his voice was soft and soothing. Eddie’s hands slowly rubbed circles into Richie’s scalp, massaging it and trying to make the other boy relax. He knew what an anxiety attack looked like, he had had his own share of them when he was younger, and knew what to do to calm someone down, but at the same time it was Richie- a boy he hardly knew. The not-knowing was really driving him mad, so he decided to just go with his instincts and slowly reached for Richie’s face. He delicately cupped his sharp jaw and stroke a thumb under the boy’s eye, wiping away some of the tears.  

“I can’t be pretty, Eds,” he murmured and Eddie’s heart clenched painfully. It physically hurt him when Richie scrunched his eyes closed again and tried to back away from Eddie’s touch. “I really want to, but, but-” he hiccuped, panic taking over his body almost entirely. “-I just don’t want you to look at the photos and decide that your time wasn’t worth it, ya know? I don’t want to fuck it up for you.”

Richie looked completely wrecked. His whole body was shaking, wet eyelashes got glued together because of the tears and cheeks got an angry shade of red. He was picking at his fingernails and the skin around them, making it break and bleed. Eddie tsked and shook his head, then moved closer to the boy and took his hands into his own.  

“You won’t Richie.”

“But-”

“You won’t, okay?” the smaller boy shot him a sweet smile and waited for Richie to calm down. He breathed slowly and loudly, gesturing for the other one to do the same, he then proceeded to rub Richie’s shaking shoulders, his hands and even chest, trying to sooth him. “Richie, you are beautiful, trust me.” Richie shook his head and tried to draw back again, but Eddie didn’t let him.

“How can you say that, Eds? My face is so, it’s so weird an-and my body? Oh god, I’m no Chris Hemsworth, Eddie, don’t lie to me,” he tried to turn his outburst into a joke, but all the self-pity and insecurities were palpable for Eddie.

The smaller boy smiled sadly and lowered his head for a moment, thinking of good words to express himself. He wasn’t good with them, he preferred actions instead, liked to show emotions through gestures, but that wasn’t an option. Richie was in a clear need of verbal praise and Eddie’s job was to deliver.  

He took a deep breath and looked Richie straight in the eye, wanting to get to the bottom of his soul with what he had in mind. The taller boy looked a bit scared, his eyebrows were furrowed and lips parted. He seemed a bit calmer, but still fidgeted with, this time, Eddie’s fingers.

“You-um, were you-have you ever seen Vincent’s Van Gogh’s paintings, ‘Chee?” Eddie asked in a small voice. He furrowed his brows, unhappy with how he sounded, and cleared his throat. “When he was alive, everyone said that, you know, that it was ugly and shitty, ‘cause it didn’t fit into some, well, labels-” he continued, even though he didn’t get a response. Art was the way he understood world, how he somehow got through his life and it was the best metaphor for him. He wanted Richie to get that, and, given his suddenly dreamy eyes, it was kind of working. “-but then he died and-um- some other people saw his works and decided that he was actually pretty-fucking-fabulous.” Eddie took a deep breath and rearranged himself, so he could fit between Richie’s widely spread legs. “What I’m trying to say is, his art didn’t change. It was the same it was, but then came some people with different opinions and decided that it was worth something. It’s all about the way of thinking, Rich. And those people that don’t find you attractive? Fuck them. You are simply too- you are art, Richie.”

Richie’s breath hitched and he stopped crying. He was looking at Eddie with fascination written all over his face, searching for something that could indicate he was telling lies, but there was no such thing. His face was expressive, eyes shining with unshed tears and lips pink and wet from constant biting on them. The taller boy’s hands found their way onto Eddie’s hips and he gently pulled him closer. Not one person had ever taken so much time and effort to make Richie feel better and it was making his head spin.  

“Art?” he asked shyly, head propped on Eddie’s chest, looking up at him. Eddie’s cheeks were pink from the unexpected contact, but he let himself thread fingers through Richie’s curls and nod.

“Yeah. You make me feel so many things, just like art. You-you make me furious whenever you open your big mouth and-” Richie chuckled, slightly taken aback. “-and then I see you looking at the world with such child-like fascination and I can’t help but smile. You have the weirdest style but it fits you so good, your pretty face is so stupid and angular but it, it just kind of works? You make me want to kill you, but then I want to just pull you closer and protect you from the world.”

Many times, when Eddie thought back to this moment, he wondered if he hadn’t said too much. It seemed too bold, too weird for almost-a-stranger to say. But all those thoughts always left him when he remembered the big smile on Richie‘s tear-stained face and the way he hugged Eddie- so hard and close the smaller boy almost couldn’t breath.

“Let’s take some photos,“ Richie mumbled, his voice thick with emotion. He pulled back and stood up, ready to face another challenge.   

Oh my, my, my

This one was some kind of emotional roller-coaster, wasn’t it? I hope you like it anyway!

Let me know, I’m such a slut for feedback!!!

#reddie #reddie fic #reedie fanfic #reddie fanfiction #reddie smut #reddie fluff #reddie headcanon #reddie moodboard #richie tozier #richie tozier smut #richie tozier fluff #richie tozier fic #richie tozier moodboard #richei tozier headcanon #eddie kaspbrak #eddie kaspbrak fic #eddie kaspbrak smut #eddie kaspbrak headcanon #eddie kaspbrak moodboard #eddie kaspbrak fanfiction #it #it 2017 #it 2019 #IT FANDOM #it fic #it fanfic #it fanfiction #it smut #no pennywise #reddie au

[an-olive-crown-blog]

THE A TO Z OF RYAN FLYNN

a.d.d. // you don’t get diagnosed with a.d.d. until you’re in the fourth grade. you’ve always know how smart you were, but translating the things going on in your brain into being a productive student caused you to struggle. your classmates always just assuemd you were stupid - the class clown who sat in the back and made the other students laugh. it was a role you happily slipped in to; even after the diagnosis. 

boston // it’s always been boston or bust for you. you didn’t grow up that far outside of the city but there was never a place in the world that felt as much home to you as boston does. you live and die by this city.

chinook // she’s named after a strain of hops - because of course you would do something like that. she’s the light of your life, the center of your world, the best brewery dog to ever grace the earth. she’s a swiss mountain dog; big, slobbery, and full of love. your girlfriend hates it, but she sleeps in the bed, nestled down by your legs. no amount of fighting will ever change this.

david ortiz // he’s a legend in boston and as a die hard red sox fan you almost crap your pants when you think you see him sitting at the bar in strip by strega on arlington. it doesn’t turn out to be him, though, even after you’ve made a spectacular ass out of yourself in front of your date. you don’t get a kiss at the end of the night, not the you were expecting one after the noise that came out of your mouth when you first thought it was big papi sitting three bar stools away.

exeter street // the last time you see olivia she’s outside of her hotel, clambering into a cab that’s idling on the curb of exeter street. you thought that seeing her after all these years would be fine, that you were over it. it was just coffee, for crying out loud. but she’s leaving again, back to the new life she made for herself in california. there was supposed to be closure but not it just feels like you’ve ripped the bandaid off the bullet wound she left in your heart. 

forward // hockey has always had a presence in your life, as it does for most guys who grow up in new england. you’ve been going to bruins games since you’ve been old enough not to cry about the noise or the cold. you’ve even worn your own sweater in highschool as a forward. you were good, but not great. a career in the NHL was certainly never in your future. but now that you’re older you appreciate it more; appreciate the fact that getting your ass up on sunday mornings to play as a forward for the beer league is important to your health (no matter how much your achy body says otherwise come monday morning). 

griffin’s wharf brewing // you go through name after name after name before you find one by mistake. griffin’s whart if the supposed site of the boston tea party, an integral part of the history of the city that you love so much. when you come across this fact in a book, it doesn’t take much convincing for your partner to agree that it’s the perfect name for the brewery you’re planning on opening. 

harvard // it was silly, ridiculous to think that you could be a harvard man. but it was what was expected of you - to attend your father’s alma mater, to get a degree in chemistry. but school was never easy for you, and while the classes you take aren’t hard, you can’t help but dig yourself so far into a hole that there’s no way out. you drop out at the end of junior year, just one year shy of graduation. looking back, you can boil it all down to self-sabotage. 

isla // everyone says that she should have been the first child, and honestly, you can’t help but agree. she’s two years younger than you but she’s always had her shit together, has always known where she was going in life and how she was getting there. she exudes what you’d expect from the oldest sibling while you’ve always flown by the seat of your pants. no one ever believes it when you say that you’re the older sibling. 

january // there’s new england blood running through your veins, a fact you can’t deny. there’s something peaceful about the cold of winter; when it reaches it’s peak right at the end of january, your favorite month. the city bustles along as usual, but there’s a quieter quality about it that you can’t quite put your finger on. 

kayaking // it’s one of the few things you love about summer, when the city is sticky and hat and ridiculously overpacked with tourists. the charles is actually nice when you’re on the water when in comparison to when you’re on the esplanade. it’s quieter, too, especially if you go in the morning before the sailing academy starts it’s lessons for all those privileged children of beacon hill. 

loan // you’re well versed in the world of loans - you’ve got a mountain of them from those unfinished years at harvard. but this is different. this loan, a business loan, could make or break you depending on what the bank says. there’s a fledgling, fragile dream you’ve concocted of owning a brewery and it’s the only thing you’ve ever felt so sure of over the course of your entire life (save for maybe one other thing, a girl named olivia, but that’s nothing more than a pipe dream at this point). when the bank gets back to you and agrees to the loan, it’s the only time you’ve ever cried tears of relief. 

massachusetts avenue // the location couldn’t be better - a refurbished building on mass ave in central square. it’s technically not in boston, like you’d originally wanted, but the rent is cheap and the space is good. central square is up and coming, anyway, bustling with hip college students and young professionals. it’s the perfect place for a brewery. 

newton, massachusetts // it’s a nice town, you can admit now that you’re older. you can’t really complain about the life you had growing up there because it was a good childhood. it was every suburban cliche you can think of, but it was your parents dream. and while you don’t necessarily share that dream with them - the white picket fence one - it really wasn’t such a bad place to grow up. 

olivia // she may be the only girl you’ve ever really loved. she was the big one, the epic love of your life. you’ll never admit it out loud, but it’s not like you have to. anyone close enough to you knows the damage that was done when she left for stanford and you stubbornly refused to follow her. there’s been an aching in your heart ever since. 

patriots // you aren’t as big of a patriots fan as you are a fan of the red sox, but there’s no denying that your blood runs navy and red. you are a walking, talking new england cliche, but there is nothing quite like shotgunning beers to stay warm in the parking lot of the stadium in foxboro.

quincy market // it’s the only part of the city that you truly detest and avoid as much as possible. it’s too touristy, too filled with people walking slow and doing what’s expected of them while visiting boston. the only time you ever go is in the dead of winter, when the big christmas tree is all lit up and beautiful in the middle of the marketplace. 

red sox // you’ve been going to games since you were too little to remember. there’s a familiarity about fenway; the green monster, the cold beer in flimsy plastic cups. you were there when they broke the curse in 2004 and won the world series, and while you don’t get to go to as many games as you’d like anymore, there’s a calender hung on the fridge of your apartment with the season schedule. 

simcoe hops // the first beer you ever sell to your first customer - your first real customer, who isn’t in any way, shape, or form, related to you or your partner - is made with simcoe hops. it’s one of your early favorites - dry hopped and earthy with fruity finishing notes. it quickly goes on to be one of the breweries most popular beers. 

thirsty scholar // you meet olivia at the bar in inman square as a sophomore with a fake ID. you don’t even know why you’ve strayed so far from the usual bars in harvard square, but when you lock eyes with her from across the dimly lit bar, you feel like the stars have aligned. like every decision you’ve ever made in life has led to this one moment in time (in a dirty, college bar of all places). 

urban legends // it’s a weird quirk, even for you. you’re very scientific minded - logical, analytical, quick to solve puzzles and rational, above all else. you can’t seem to define what the draw of urban legends are or why they are so enticing to you, but they are. you collect them, catalogue them in your brain. for every place you’ve ever visited, there’s some obscure urban legend you’ve researched and recited, much to the chagrin of your friends. 

verb hotel // it’s tucked behind fenway, not even really that from where you live. the sushi bar on the first floor is one of your favorite haunts. it’s always packed and busy, brimming with the after-work crowd and tourists. it’s a good place to people watch and the sushi isn’t half bad, so when you feel like you need to get out of the apartment but that you want to be alone, you always find yourself ending up here, even if you didn’t mean to. 

wonderland t stop // you take the blue line all the way out to wonderland. normally you wouldn’t be caught dead in revere but there’s a peacefullness on the beach that’s right down the street from the t stop. sometimes you just need to breath in that salt air, feel the sand beneath your toes. sometimes you need a break from the suffocation of the city. 

xfinity center // it’s a hike to get to mansfield from boston but when you’re young and carefree you don’t mind. you’ve seen dozens of concerts at the ampitheatre, and were there in 2003 when pearl jam played the longest set they’ve ever done. there’s memories tucked away in the back of your mind of piling into cars with all your friends and olivia and making the trek down. 

yellow // it’s the color of the mug that olivia gets you for the last birthday you two celebrate together. yellow, with black writing that reads ‘i am a ray of fucking sunshine’. you still have it, tucked way in the back of your kitchen cabinet, one of the few remaining reminders of your time together. 

zombies // it’s childish, maybe, but you’ve always loved a good zombie move. it doesn’t matter what kind (although comedic are your favorite). every year on halloween you sit down and force your loved ones to watch shaun of the dead with you. it’s tradition, and not one you’re likely to break any time soon. 

#gravityrp #this took....way longer than anticipated lmao #ch: ryan

[lunaandstarsims]

Oh god what an ugly window (the experiment gone wrong)

Today after completely failing at a UV unwrapping tutorial for blender (i have to A.D.D this happens a lot ) and getting lost in the nodes and ...not sure what I did I decided to see what happens when I try to remesh an item in the sims 4 like a window! Since I had nothing in mind other to see if it would even upload a beautiful blending horror story result appeared...Its called the “Oh god what an ugly window, and no it's not ever available for download. I do know what I need to learn though. 

1) how to actually Unwrap and Texture a new mesh in blender 

2) How to replace a mesh BY THE LITTLE FILE order thingy on the side with a new object...I saw that there's a tutorial on that somewhere need to find it... 

3) Um, how glass works texture wise...as well as the other texture things ...its an alien language. Also alpha stuff for transparency in clothing mesh editing but I'm more interested in objects right now. 

4) how to make stuff glow...There a tutorial for that but um ....one step at a time.

5) How to make animations for the sims 4 

Blah ..I'm too ambitious for someone who doesn't know what the hell they are doing. I should probably make some posters in the sims so I at least have something people can download. 

Also maybe i can figure out why all the sims 4 meshes upload with all these stupid triangles.....it has to have something to do with them using a different 3d program I bet. ...maybe ? HOW WOULD I KNOW!

#meshingfail #sims4cc #sims4ccfail #ugly #sims4window

[drugsbestfriend-blog]

A depressed self loathing plea for help;;

Right so im suicidal as shit. I want to die so fucking bad but what will everyone think? If i didn't have this anxiety i would be dead. That and my daughter she's just turned two and she's incredibly clever and drop dead gorgeous she brand reps for a lot of companies im so proud of her. I love her so much but then at the same time i feel nothing at all..

I just feel so cold and so lonley inside me and my girlfriend are good i mean she wants to get married but i dont want to make a promise when i can't see myself being here by the time a wedding comes. Its not that i dont love her, i do. So much its just that i hate me. Its almost funny and ironic really how all of this feeling alienated and depressed is so incredibly narcissistic im doing this to myself. I know i am, i know its my head..

i know I'm fucked up.

I'm pushing everybody cloose to me away i always stay in and ponder my existence.

I do have passions though which i find so odd. I connect so much with music it's almost scary. I'm always constantly listening to music these artits speak to me. I feel their pain and i feel those songs are written about me which again is so narcissistic.. I've now started starving myself and turned back down the dark road. I started smoking weed consistently roughly 8 years ago because I've always struggled to concentrate on one thing at once and getting high helps slow my mind. Which leads to another abnormality of mine i have A.D.D (attention deficit disorder) and a overactive mind shadowing the depression and anxiety which is eating me alive.

I thengot pretty hooked on cocaine and M.D.M.A they helped make me feel better. I always called it my personal eurphoria. Damn i loved that shit.. I've always felt a connection with drugs. Never been much of a drinker though as my mother has a drinking problem which will inevitably be the slow painfully heartbreaking end of her. always said i dont want that for my kid and I've stuck to my word. My perfect beautiful little girl won't lose her father, her protector, her daddy, her hero to alcohol.. Great right?

No, She'll lose him to some stupid fucking issue's in his own fucking head or an OD on some shit.

See, the thing with the drugs is one of my closest friends who i met at work just happened to be the guy with the best sniff it the county. My dude got cash for days. He ain't short of shit i thought he had it real nice but with closer inspection.. he isn't happy. The guys like nearly thirty lost like 5 teeth has two kids and a mrs he's punching with. Still, every night he proceeds to go out and get wired.. it was great yeah.. but why didn't he want to be with his family? Somethint wasn't right.. still isn't i mean it's better but not good well obviously i got my sniff from him as he brought it into work so it was too easy, too tantalising i just had to find my self medicated remedy.

And i did. When i was wired i could relax. The other day the prefect metaphor for my thought process was revealed, so you know the london tubes at rush hour? So cramped you couldn't scratch your arse, so hot, sweaty and the stench is unbearable and then you finally get outside and there's nobody to be seen only visual perfection a slight fresh breeze, not too cold just enough to instantly relax as you take that fresh non polluted air. Thats what that first line is. That breath of fresh air i was hooked. At work every hour i was in the toilet racking up on my phone.

The journey of my pitiful ugly downward spiral was plunging dangerously out of control.

I then discovered mandy. That shit was insane. Pure crystals that good shit ya know..

I was in love with drugs, running parallel beside the unfathomable thought of how people become junkies..

The whole time i "knew what i was doing" i also "knew my limit" little did anybody know i was hoping to die.

I was having sex with every girl i could as often as i could.. the thought of blood going to my dick to stop me thinking so much didn't help in the slightest but it felt good. It may me feel good. Confident almost. I was impersonating personalities i had created in my head.. just to see if i could do it. That's not normal and i needed help. I was just too scared to talk about it. So i gave it some to the conclusion accurate or not I'd convinced myself it was right, if i take happy piils (anti depressants) and chill pills (anti anxiety shit) it would be adequately act as a alternative solution to these potential schizophrenic thoughts and/or actions.

I booked a doctors appointment and i told him just what he needed to hear to get what i needed but i was denied due to an attempt on my love prior to this. So they offered me the "wellbeing" which sucks dick its a load of patronizing questions to make these dark strong thought so much more prominent. So i jacked that in and carried on with my drugs.

Light at the end of the tunnel?

When my better half fell pregnant with my angel i dropped all the drugs. I said that's it now time for a change. My partner and i had only been together for a matter of weeks before i knocked her up so she knew about the drugs bur she didn't know how deep i was. So i got sober and my baby was born the whole time I'm still constantly experiencing this endless mental torture. A year down the line me and my partner agreed i would have 1 joint a night to help me get more than a couple hours of sleep a night which was great for a few months then we upped my dose to 2 to help my anxiety then 3 to have more control. It was bullshit i just loved being high. It took me somewhere. So i am now.. 5 a.m suicidal high as fuck and wired. Just venting.. to this safe place i can be someone and nobody

I need help i guess

#anxiety #depression #suicidal #mentalhealth #suicideawareness

[josephinebardot]

What are the reasons to go dolphin watching

With dolphin and whale sightings galore and a vast array of many more beautiful creatures to be seen, the best dolphin watching tour can be experienced by boarding on a dolphin cruise in St Pete Beach, FL.

Connect with Animals

There is something absolutely remarkable about connecting with a marine mammal in their natural habitat. Whether you come aboard a whale watching tour in the fall, winter, spring or summer months, your chances to spot a whale, dolphin, sea lion, or one of the nearly seventy species of wildlife in our area, is incredibly high.

These animals may include a majestic blue whale, sperm whale, pilot whale, or possibly a pod of killer whales. Other whale species include Humpback whales, fin, minke, and gray whales during their whale migration.

Not to mention five species of dolphins that can number up to 5,000 strong.

Connect With Nature

In addition to the magnificent mammals out at sea, another top reason to take part in the best whale watching is the opportunity to connect with nature. Apart from connecting with the wildlife, simply being out on the open ocean with the fresh air and serenity that accompanies it, bring in an array of health benefits.

Scientific studies have proven that exposure to nature has both physical and mental benefits including improved mental clarity, improved A.D.D. symptoms, and accelerated healing.

Physical benefits also include enhanced immune function which can lead to less cancer, fewer migraines, less respiratory disease, and lower risk of cardiovascular disease.

Connecting With Each Other

“We are hardwired to connect with others, it’s what gives purpose and meaning to our lives, and without there is suffering.” Brenee Brown

The best whale watching can’t be done without our fellow passengers and shipmates. This is why one of the top reasons to go whale watching includes connecting with the people around us.

This is done on comfortable vessels that do not feel overcrowded, claustrophobic, or uncomfortable. This provides a setting where you can share a connection to the people around you while enjoying your surroundings.

Connecting With Ourselves

Whether you’re planning to enjoy the best whale watching with your friends, family, or while flying solo, one of the top reasons to do so is to connect with yourself. Margarita Tartakovsky, M.S. stated, “When we connect to ourselves we’re also able to create lives that are meaningful and fulfilling.”

Being aboard the best whale watching can enable you to harness that connection. The peace, tranquility, and time apart from a busy day can give the recipient a state of being grounded, thus helping them to unplug from the stresses of life and be more centered and aligned within themselves. This can then cultivate that life of meaning and fulfillment.

Fun!

One of the main reasons to take part in the whale watching comes down to one simple thing, it’s fun! Everyone, everywhere, deserves to enjoy life to the fullest and going aboard the whale watching can get you closer to doing just that. With year-round sightings of the most majestic animals on the planet, an open ocean to explore, and joy to be had while alongside a cetacean loving crew, your fun-filled day is truly one boat ride away.

#Dolphin cruise #dolphin activites #sea beach #cruise

[surveyhoursss]

146.

Your name is Jordan

You were born in April

You're 19

Gaming is a huge part of your life

You have more than one gaming tattoo

You have a tattoo of your animal's paw print

You drive a Lincoln

Sports cars > supercars

You love 90's cars

You're planning on getting a Subaru Impreza next

You do cosplay

You have 11 piercings

You have endometriosis

You graduated in 2015

You were named after Michael Jordan

You want to get into the Youtube world soon

You have almost 10k followers on Instagram

You went to cosmetology/beauty school

You did not pursue cosmetology as a career

You're into graphic design

You own a screenprinting business

You sell products on Etsy

You've been in a relationship for over a year

You've been mentally abused by a past relationship

You own a gaming laptop because you like mobility

Your all time favorite game is Sly Cooper

You have 50+ gaming consoles

You have 500+ video games

You joined the Harley Quinn bandwagon this year

You like to collect pink things

You don't travel a lot (wish I did more)

You live in Michigan

You're trying to gain weight

You were bullied for most of your school years for having acne

You have a pet that means a lot to you

You've been in long distance relationship

You've had your belly button pierced since you were 14

Your favorite drink is chocolate milk

Your eyes are grey (grey, green, i have no clue lol)

Your favorite movie is Pulp Fiction

You own every Tarantino film on VHS, DVD, and Blu-Ray

You've become more confident with your body lately

You used to hate Victoria's Secret but now you love it

You love to play board games

You like to host game nights with prizes

You wear extensions

You have a promise ring

You have trouble growing/strengthening your hair

You try to be organized but fail most of the time

You used to work two jobs and 7 days a week

You shop at thrift stores

You rarely ever buy clothes at full price

You've seen 15+ bands live

Your favorite was Foo Fighters

You enjoy all music

You're trying to change your style of clothes / hair

You love to sing even though you're not good at it

You get emotional easily

You're the oldest child

You didn't go to college

Your boss is your role model

You usually sleep 9 hours a day

You take a lot of naps

You have social anxiety

You have trouble speaking

You love winter

You're very generous

You don't really get the generosity from others back to you

You don't like water

Your favorite pizza is Buffalo Chicken

You weighed 95-100 lbs until you were 18 (i've been anywhere from 80-140 lbs lmao)

You recently gained about 20 lbs (refeeding ;w;)

You're 5'1

You did cosplay of a Pokemon

You like glitter

You like space buns

You complain a lot

You hit puberty in 3rd grade

You've always had iPhones

Your computer or laptop cost over $1,000

Your town has a population of around 3,000

You like horror games but are deathly afraid of them

You have a natural tan

You don't have any freckles but wish you did

You go to garage sales often

You've gotten an I.V before

You've lost part of your eyesight temporarily due to a migraine

You've had extremely bad panic attacks in the past

You get 'triggered' very easily

You have grey eyes

You hate doing laundry

You don't mind other house chores

Your S/O is over a foot taller than you.

You write poetry, mostly about the stars / space

You used to write short stories

You own every single Sims game

You've bought all the Sims 4 add ons even though you hate it lol

You used to write stories with the Sims 2

You were dedicated to a forum around the age of 9

It was a 4kids forum haha!

You used to make short films

You hate texting

You learned HTML when you were 10

You wanted to go to school for Computer Science for a long time

You used to play Call Of Duty competitively

You have a lot of online friends

You've never been on a plane

You've never been zip lining but might soon

You enjoy camping

You own a quad / 4 wheeler

You've always dated boys older than you

Your boyfriend is 6 years older than you

You love to drive long distances

You enjoy going to car shows

You're voting for Gary Johnson

You have self-harmed before

You take short showers

You love wearing dresses

You wear cat ears a lot

You like taking photo-shoots of yourself

You have A.D.D

You take Vitamin D supplements for depression

You've kissed more boys than you can count on your hands

You've never been drunk

You play Pokemon GO

You never eat popcorn at movie theaters

You still use 720p screens

Your first console was a PS1

You really want the Playstation VR

You've funded a game before

You're unsure if you will be able to have kids or not

You've had mono before

you enjoy being creative

You used to make perler sprites

You've paid for art of yourself before

You've accidentally cooked something in the microwave that didn't belong in there.

You've made friends from a video game

You used to use Piczo

You don't like modern/futurustic FPS

You don't like RPG's

You've NEVER seen the Notebook

You own a Ouija board

You took online classes in school

You failed gym class

Your favorite Pokemon is Cubone

You're an Aries

You're pro-choice

You got a dry socket after getting your wisdom teeth removed

It was the worst pain you've ever been in

You've written down every dream you could remember for the past 2 years

You're an introvert

You don't really like to be touched

Your voice is high pitched

You hate shaving

You bite your nails

You have tiny ears

Your natural hair is a few inches past shoulder length

You have huge scars on your knees

You have a deep scar by your eye

You like to read

You've read Rage by Stephen King

you like cleaning

Your favorite arcade game is Mappy

You own every color Gameboy Color

You've felt unloved before

You've been bit by a tick before

You don't understand the obsession with Funko Pops

You're into kitten play

You believe you're talented

You still live at home

You clean your car... a lot

You like to take pictures of everything

You like the name Amethyst and Jade for a girl's name

You like the name Nathan and Jayden for a boy's name

You've had pink hair

You've had lavender hair

You've had red hair

You've had blonde hair

You've had a pixie cut

Your hair is naturally curly

You never leave the house without makeup on

You love the rain but hate thunderstorms

You're afraid of being alone

You're good at math

You always do the cat eye eyeliner

You don't know how to contour

You've watched every single episode of Friends

You've watched every single episode of That 70s Show

You own a pair of the Nintendo vans

You're spoiled

You own around 50 Pulp Fiction related merch

You've seen the movie countless times

You have A.D.D

You've gone to a teacher for personal help and they didn't help

You've never had to call 911 before

You eat Honey Nut Cheerios nearly every morning

You love breakfast foods

Your parents aren't divorced although they should be

You've started a GoFundMe for an LDR before

You saw Back To The Future in theaters

You used to smoke weed but don't anymore

You've never smoked a cigarette

You would never work in fast food

You don't really like concerts but you still go

You love going to the dentist

You've had a guinea pig before

You've had a turtle before

He was named after one of the Ninja Turtles

You've had a German Shepherd before

You've never watched a Kardashian show

You never swear

You like to go on walks

You prefer Pepsi over Coke

You're really picky about food

You own a machete

You own a Halo helmet and energy sword

You don't like Bethesda as a company

The first game you ever beat was GTA III

Your favorite mini games are the ones on Pokemon Stadium 2

You only own one perfume

You buy clothes for dirt cheap and sell them to make profit

You enjoy making your bed because it's aesthetically pleasing

You've done Harley Quinn cosplay

You want to do Daenerys cosplay

You made love coupons for your boyfriend on Valentine's Day

you like to be creative with cookies/cakes/desserts

You own a pink gaming headset (Trittons)

You own Astros A40s

You've never had a Scuf controller

Your voice is very quiet

You've had the same Pikachu plushie since you were 4

One of your favorite bands is ADTR

One of your favorite bands is Volbeat

One of your favorite bands is Taking Back Sunday

You've seen all of your favorite bands live

You don't have a favorite song

You get jealous of people that are more successful than u that are younger

You sing in the shower

Music puts you to sleep fast

You're too optimistic

You've sexted someone you weren't in a relationship with before

You've gotten a girl expelled from school before

You've never been in a physical fight

You laugh a lot

You suck at making eye contact

You've been threatened for your life before

You play video games with your sibling

All your grandparents are still alive

You've met your great-great-grandfather before

You naturally have brown hair

You wear glasses

You've lost your glasses before

You have bad memory

You used to have almost 5,000 friends on Facebook.

Now you only have around 300

Your favorite restaurant is Red Lobster

You have a Lenovo computer

You only buy Samsung TV's

There were less than 70 kids in your graduating class

You check on your ex's social medias every so often

You've seen someone with a gun to their head before

You have Cards Against Humanity and ALL of its expansions

You have Exploding Kittens

You see Canada almost every day but you've never been there

You've kissed a girl before

You've been cheated on while living with that person

You've been best friends with someone since elementary school

You prefer hot foods over cold

You have an innie belly button

You prefer fruits over vegetables

You have a lot of collectibles

Your phone is pink

Your favorite game show is Family Feud

You're right handed

You have a birth mark on your butt

Your favorite month is February

You don't like Harry Potter

You like Pearl Jam

You like to dance even though you're bad at it

You're not athletic

You're not very good with saving money

You have a dual screen monitor set up

You have 5+ consoles hooked up currently

You have string lights around your bed

You don't have any posters up

You own a Japanese video game

You want to buy a game that's currently valued at $300+

You've never gone hunting

You've never gone fishing

You've been to a drive in theater

You've been to Florida

You've driven in a car for over 24 hours straight

You're not really close with any of your cousins

You're not a huge fan of chocolate

You've owned a pair of Uggs

You only use white clothing hangers

You try to keep the boxes for everything

You got your first job at 18

You've always had creative ways to make some extra cash

You have a tattoo that your parents don't know about

You got a tattoo as soon as you turned 18

You don't like kids

You always panic over the worst case scenario

You don't like wearing jeans

You don't like wearing pants in general

You haven't showered yet today

You've never gotten stitches

You hate whipped cream

You have Irish heritage

You're not religious

You gave your first BJ at 14

Your longest relationship was 2 years

You've never been asked on a date by a stranger

Your favorite music video is No One Knows by QOTSA

You have a very short temper

Your Youtube inspiration is SSSniperwolf

You've always wanted to start a cookie decorating business

You've always wanted to own a business in your own store instead of online

You've lived in the same town your entire life

You're going Pokemon hunting tonight

You like exploring

You've never had a full time job

You never want an office job

You've never been to Warped tour and never want to go

You own 5+ copies of one of your favorite games

You put a lot of effort into your Instagram page

[peal-feals]

mostly, i just feel unbalanced.

some days are really wonderful, but deep down, i always feel a little off. I want to realign myself, for better overall health. for my body, for my spirit and my mind. Its difficult to figure out what it is in life that calls you to awaken, and sometimes i think i have found it, sometimes i feel completely lost. I write this in hopes that there will be some more clarity, that i can be more in touch with my inner spirit, and move forwards with a greater strength.  Where to even start..... stream of consciousness. first of all, love never solves anything. I am in love with such a beautiful human being and sometimes it makes me sick how much i love them. they help me feel more in touch with myself, like going out into the world and being a better person. then, when i am alone i lose sight. so much of my energy goes into passing the time thoughtlessly because it feels good to be still. too good. it is calm and warm, but there is no movement. AND I AM WATER THAT WANTS TO FLOW. there are times too frequent when i know i am not making healthy choices and it starts with recognizing those things.... I fuck around on the internet too much. Id like to at least be educating myself with the plethora of information available to me here. Read more. It can be anything as long as its not extremely A.D.D. internet surfing.  I eat too much crap food. What happened with that? I used to be so good at eating well. Is it the cold weather? I have lost motivation to eat good food and i think it comes from this CORE DESIRE TO MAKE MORE $$$, i am afraid to spend anything. I need to either make more money or simplify my lifestyle and i just refuse to do either. i tell myself if i had MORE, than id be better off. i keep going out and drinking and smoking too many cigarettes, destroying my teeth and staying up until 4am+. It is all stemming from ANXIETY, that is where the cookie fucking crumbles. I didnt used to have this shit. and now its something i deal with, but its soooo SUBTLE at times that i attempt to give other reasons and excuses for why it is the way it is. ‘im lazy.’ ‘im making stupid decisions.’ ‘if i had only just dealt with it earlier before it built up to this’ ‘i’m tired i’ll take a short nap’- (2 hours later).... but OH YEAH! thats the sound of depression/anxiety speaking! and guess fucking what. its valid. and it sucks some days. but i need to keep moving forward. there is a cosmic beauty in this and why i exist as i am. I dont need to change who i am, just the habits i possess! Positive reinforcement. Treat myself well. I dont need to follow the crowd. I can believe that this vessel i spend my life in is strong and fierce, that i have something unique to give the world. i haven’t found what that is, but i can’t stop now. i can’t stop moving. THAT will be the death of me. 

#me #personal #rambling #alignment #mental health

[daathren]

Reflection:  A Quiet 4th

I spent most of the day just thinking over things. Thinking over life. Analyzing and tearing apart my feelings and emotions over and over again. I definitely have been in a depressive mood the past few days but I have tried my best to really not let it bring me too down and tried to take the energy and convert it into something productive...

Today though...today I just quietly sat for the most part, up in my head in between naps. My pain level was a 6 on my scale. It was...tolerable. I had planned to do a bit of drinking and decided against it. I had planned to do some gaming, dive into the ones that Val has been asking me to play for a bit but that didn’t work out either. And, honestly, being ‘left out’ kinda helped to focus my thoughts.

The thing is...almost my entire life I’ve been a black sheep. Never quite feeling like I belong anywhere. Spent a lot of time being a lost puppy behind people. People who I allowed in some cases to sexually use me because I felt pretty damn worthless. Some I gave my last dollar to hoping to seem useful to.

I was ‘too white’ for black people. ‘Too black’ for white people. I was too dorky for the cool crowd. Too A.D.D. for the intellectuals. Too fat to really be seen as beautiful/sexy/presentable to be seen in public with...

...I just always struggled to find someone, someplace to accept me just the way I am.

Even into adulthood, I’m so unique that I still feel like I walk along the outskirts for a lot of groups that I fall into...BDSM, LGBT+, Writer/Artistic, Gamer, Spiritualist. I really struggle with the paranoia of...do these people really accept me or do they put up with me because they think there would be a huge drama llama if they were honest about their feelings towards me?

And the thing is, I don’t see how being honest could cause too much of a stir when it comes down to me and my handling of things. If you don’t like me, just tell me. Don’t play nice. Don’t sugar coat it. You know, I’ve had enough people sugar coat and drag me along and EMBARRASS me by not being upfront with me that I appreciate knowing ahead of time. I do not want to live in a lie. I do not want to waste my time and energy somewhere that it is not wanted.

I know my anxiety takes root and clouds my judgement but at the same time, I realize that I have been hurt in really complex ways that just make it really hard. I have had people play the long game with me quite a few times. Probably way more than the average statistics say it should happen...

In the end, today I have wondered about where I stand with people. I wondered how much they respect me. I wondered how much they cared. How much I might be useful to them and how much they really want me around. Today, I nursed my physical pain with medicine as best I could and I sat, watching videos, and picking up on behaviors of those around me and I wondered...

[golfwi52]

Round 28 – Gotta Earn It

Deertrak Golf Club, Oconomowoc, WI 53066 Par 72, White Tees, 6,082 yards, 69.2 / 116, 18 holes riding, $50 Sunday, July 9th, 2017, 9:52am, 78 degrees, 10 mph winds, sunny

Deertrak was another one of the west of Milwaukee courses I had heard my work buds mention over the years as a “must play” course.  I was pleasantly surprised to see how beautifully manicured this course was with very smooth greens, 30+ gorgeous flower beds, eight uniquely charming water fountains, and two majestic waterfalls.   My departed hacker dad would have fallen in love with this course, primarily because of the flower beds, some of them encased in actual bed frames.    So the big question was “could I tame this beauty?”.  Actually, I had sprained my knee playing a soccer doubleheader the Wednesday before so I was wearing my favorite knee brace and taking a riding cart.  So the question was more like “could I just finish and not embarrass myself in front of this beauty?”.   Old man golf.

Wes and Tom

Like in a few of my previous rounds, I paired up with another father-son twosome, this time Tom and Wes.   I love the father-son mix.  The dad is typically a decent bogey golfer around my age and the son is usually a big hitter with flashes of brilliance.    These two followed that model to the tee, so to speak.  I was a little worried when I called in the reservation this morning that they’d make me play as a single.  This is the first time I can remember where the clubhouse person would not pair me up with another group because the group may not feel comfortable playing with a stranger.   Too bizarre.  Fortunately Tom and Wes were just ahead of my solo tee time and they had no problem with me joining them.   They were such typical friendly Wisconsinites.  Tom chatted up about the ninety year old course owner just passing away a few years ago and the course dropping a notch.  Wow, I can’t imagine what the course was like when the owner was alive.  The course was gorgeous.

One of many flower beds.  Dad would have loved this.

The weather was decent with calm winds and my playing partners were knowledgeable about the course so I felt I was in good shape to finally break 80.  I had hit the range the day before to test out my sprained knee and work on my short game.  I felt great at he range for about an hour and then everything went south.  Actually everything went to the right.  I started shanking everything and I couldn’t get out of it.  This has happened to me on a number of occasions in my golfing life and it absolutely drives me crazy.  I tried a number of things at the range and I think it may have to do with my left wrist suffering from mild carpal tunnel.  Just like when my wrist gets sore soon after gripping a screwdriver, my wrist may be tiring after a heavy round of hitting range balls.   I start loosening my grip on the club which lets my club head open up and the shank occurs.  At least that ‘s my latest theory.  Anyways, the biggest challenge I had with today’s round was not letting the shankapotomus memory/fear get into my head.  Much easier said than done.

The front nine started out with a nice birdie on the par 5 second, but I only managed 2 more pars for the front and shot a boring 43.   While the greens were in great shape, most had decent banks and my recent switch back to a cross-handed putting grip was not handling the challenge well.   Once again I missed a few embarrassing 2 footers.   But I’m convinced the cross-handed grip is my best option for hitting straight short putts.  I just need to get my head straight with the reads and distance.  My drives were decent though and the course was ripe for the taking if my approach shots were straighter and my putting game was decent.   The usual number of “ifs”.

Beautiful fountains around 14th green

I thoroughly enjoyed Tom and Wes’s relaxed company.   Wes is a graphic designer and I was able to get some good advice from him on a Brewer’s like t-shirt logo I was designing for our company Geek Games event.  The 63 year old Tom was in construction so I had less in common with him from a work perspective.   But it was fun to chat with Tom about the course and the recently deceased founder.    And while they both struggled with their games a bit, they didn’t care a whole lot - which kept the round very enjoyable and entertaining.  And I didn’t shank a shot on the front so there was hope that I could make it through the whole round.  But the fear was lurking in my head.

Like usual I started losing my driver accuracy on the back nine.  I had some decent success with hitting my 5-iron off the tee and I should have done that a few more times instead of hitting a driver.  Especially with playing from the white tees and on par 4s under 350 yards.    I’m also getting better about not trying to hit easy 90% driver shots because those partial swings always end up bad.  So just grip it and rip it at 100%, keep my hands back, and do not get under it too much to end up hitting an elephant’s ass (high and shitty).   You would think just 3 things to remember on the tee wouldn’t be hard but with my amateur grade A.D.D. I usually forget to remember one of those things and my drive goes whacked.    With my driver struggling, I was scrambling on the first 5 holes of the back just to save bogey.  I ended up paring 3 of the final 4 holes to card a 44 for the back.  My putting did finally come around and I avoided a shank all day long so there was some success.

Par 3 17th - $100 Anyone?

Both Tom and Wes’s games went a bit south on the back nine.  Tom was really struggling off the tee and I was tempted to offer him my $100 challenge of just hitting the green on the par 3 17th.  But I figured that was kind of a slam based on how he was struggling so I backed off.  He did end up short of the green so I would have saved my $100, but my offer probably would have pissed him off more by hitting a poor shot AND not getting an easy $100.  So I ended up offering the $100 to his son Wes on the 17th green if he could make his 40 foot putt.   He did miss the putt but at least he didn’t feel bad about missing something that had less than a 5% chance of going in.   I have to keep the challenge hard enough so that folks aren’t mad they missed an “easy” shot at the $100.  Gotta earn it.  On the 18th green, Wes had anther 40 foot putt, but this time on a two tiered green and he was putting from the top tier down a “ramp” to the hole on the lower tier.  So less than a 1% chance I would say.  It was such a challenging putt that I offered up the $100 again for the first time this year in the same round.  Wes made a gallant run at the putt but came up a few feet short.

Final Score:  87 (43, 44)  1 birdie, 5 pars, 2 lost balls.  Playing time 3 hours, 45 minutes.  I learned in the parking lot afterwards that Wes was getting married in a few weeks and he was attending a wedding shower later this day.  Oh man, I was so tempted to simply give him the $100 prize in the parking lot as a wedding gift, but my grown kid’s voices in my head said “NO!”.  My kids have also warned me against doing Pay It Forwards in the past because it’s not the right moment or I’m just showing off or something else.  Sometimes I listen to them and sometimes I don’t.  This time they were right.  You have to earn the prestigious golfWI52 $100 prize.  Wes, make the damn 40 foot putt or stay married for 30+years like I did.  I’ll meet you back at Deertrak when I’m 90 to prize you up on the latter.  My new goal then will be to shoot my age.  Or just to be able to breathe, walk, remember, …

[betsyreed]

Transitions

It is just me, or are transitions sometimes the most beautifully yet beautifully frightening times to experience?

For me, it’s the excitement of the “movement” from one thing to another. The thrill of making a change that was bubbling up inside of you, waiting to get out. The hope of something better, bigger, badder and more true to YOU. 

All of this is a true joy for a risk-taker, limit-pusher and an all-around A.D.D. inclined gal like me. BUT, along with the the JOY comes FEAR. Fear of failure, rejection, loss and most of all the unknown. 

Whenever I’ve taken a leap of faith - the whole point in doing so, is that it’s so bold and so motivated and so true that it lacks a certain level of pragmatism or planning. In my experience, it almost always comes before I’m ready and many times when I’m least expecting it. These opportunities and “universal nudges” hit me often when I am seemingly stuck. Life shakes the shit out of me and says “TIME TO MOVE YOUR ASS, GIRL! WHAT YOU BEEN DOIN’ AIN’T WORKIN’ ANYMORE!” (Don’t ask why my inner voice / universal spirit has a southern accent). 

To illustrate, I’ll give you an example of a recent experience...

My life has always been somewhat dramatic and exciting. I’m always searching, asking, begging and demanding more from myself and life. When I am not, I don’t feel alive. I feel stagnant, bored -- almost like I’m dying. I am not sure how else to describe it. In my 20′s, after college, I spent cycles of time trying to ‘play it safe” and do the “normal job.” Each cycle lasted a few years and resulted in my rejection of that path of normalcy and a push toward a more alternative, more bespoke and more authentic use of my skills and abilities. At the age of 25, I went from working in advertising to being a health/life coach. I jumped right off the diving board and started my “Betsy Reed” health coaching business. And, all things considered, it was successful. But, in the midst of self-discovery and development I ended up making some choices that scared me so much and took me so far away from the life I’d known that I rejected that bold, new life and sought immediate and desperate “normalcy” as I put my life back together in a way that made sense to my community and the outside world...even though it didn’t really make sense to me. 

What ensued after that experience was another 4 year stint in the corporate world that broke me down, tore me apart and made me question everything. 

So, on a sunny May afternoon, just 2 months ago. I chose to leave. Without a plan. Without abundant savings. Without knowing what the hell I was going to do next. I just said “I can’t live a lie anymore. I’ve got to figure this shit out.” So, with respect, professionalism and tying up all the loose ends I needed to, I set out on a discovery path I’m still on. 

What’s transpired in my last 2 months of transition has been incredible. I’ve allowed myself to be pulled in directions that inspire me. For others to tell me what they value most in me, and to identify where my unique skills can be most valuable. I’ve had days where I could take naps in the sun, and days where I am writing service contracts until 11pm. I’ve had moments of pure joy at the gift I’ve given myself and more than a few moments of “what the fuck am I doing” and “what have I gotten myself into?” 

Above all...with all the fear, uncertainty, joy and excitement....I feel free. I feel in motion. I feel in transit. And, I think that’s what this life is all about. Feeling the aliveness of movement and moments and doubts. Knowing they’re all there for a reason. To make us dream bigger, do more, love deeper and create what we ultimately want in life. 

What have been amazing transitional periods in your life? Did you see them as “amazing” when you were in the middle? Or, just when reflecting back? What’s the most beautiful gift you received as a result of that transition? 

#transition #dreams #love #fear

[tmi-gasm-blog]

Your Sanctuary: Your Identity

(>o.o)> “This may upset somebody” <(o.o<)

         <(-_-)> “We’re doing it, though.”

   Dear Reader,

       I’m Johnny. Hello... Welcome to my Tumblr. I’m going to write you my thoughts in letters sometimes, you can read them if you want to, ok?

12:19 PM, 6/10/2017 

Current A.D.D. Forecast: Possible

    Everyone has a world inside of them. It’s a gift we are given just for being human. I don’t know where it comes from, or what other people think of it as, but I do believe we all have it. I feel something in my heart when I think about it, so I am trusting myself to describe this right:

    A person’s world is as different as the people on Earth, but the magical thing about it...is that it’s also the only thing every person on Earth has in common; whether they want to or not. 

   Your world is also your sanctuary. It sort of has to be, because you build your world out of the things that you decide. You design your world, you build your sanctuary. Some imagine versions of the people they love into their world. Some let real ones in. Some have bad experiences with those first two things, as well.

   Your sanctuary is the part of your world that is the most open to attack, because it’s the most comfortable place in your mind, or wherever you like to “go” specifically, of course :-)

   Being such a perfect place also makes a sanctuary very fragile. Very easy to hurt. Partly because you’ alone with your identity in your sanctuary, and none of us ever feel truly free to be ourselves in every situation. I feel like picturing your own daily life can give any examples if it’s a weird statement :-)

   I feel like if we walk our minds through the “daily life” concept for just a week, we can look at our own lives and imagine points where we were so happy to be “alone with ourselves.” The times where it was awesome. Because there are not-awesome ones too.

  (This is a moment of respect for anything you have suffered, Reader)

  Your sanctuary can be an environment you see yourself in. Some friends of mine joke that they are “mermaids,” and they have personalities that match their daydreams about beaches, and breathing underwater. Some tie their sanctuary to how many people they’ve slept with, or how much curiosity they can draw from strangers. Some blend it with their relationships. Some can’t be at peace in their sanctuary, and they are in so much pain. That’s another thing...

   In a lifetime, your sanctuary is going to crumble at some point. I'm so sorry to say that. I can at least balance it, by promising you something: if that happens, you have the power to rebuild it.

   Your identity is a huge part of the materials your sanctuary is made of, and people are going to shock you beyond belief if you expect them to understand (or even accept) your identity. Respect towards others is not a common thing in our country, and every sort of person in America could work on being better about it, including myself.

  Despite how much others may care about your identity, it’s the most valuable thing in your “self-sanctuary,” and you will defend it against raids on your sanctuary. But how do other people and situations attack it?

  Tragedy is one that no one can control, and I’m so sorry if you’ve had tragedy in your life. I have too, and it sucks. I feel like a cruel person for saying so, but there is something that’s going to hurt you more than that. People are going to come into your sanctuary with stickers, and write words on them, and put the stickers on all of the things that you built your sanctuary out of. They’re going to use all of the words on the stickers to tell you what your objects are, and if you don’t agree that the objects are those things, they’re going to call on all of the people who use the same stickers. Even if you don’t fight them, they’re going to hold you down like you tried to, and they are going to cover you in stickers with words on them too. You’re going to feel ashamed, and violated, and if you try to tell anyone, they’re going to give you all of the reasons why what happened to you was your fault. They’re going to explain that, because someone did something that made them feel violated, it’s ok to violate you. Do your best to keep your dignity, and don’t let them see how bad they hurt you, even though I know it was horrible and you are so sad about it :-( Don’t start tearing down the beautiful things you built in your sanctuary because you hate that you can’t peel the stickers off. All of those objects were violated too, and they are all being the same things they were before it happened, and if they came from you, you can do that, too.

#Rape #existentialism #existential musings #metaphor #inaccurate statistics #divided we fall #united we stand #isolation #water bending #new posts #new user #tmi #Johnny #trauma #labeling #judging appearance