#and to this day nothing makes me feel as safe as listening to that podcast

[ingravinoveritas]

martinsharmony replied to your post "UMMMM DOCTOR AGREEING WITH DONNA SAYING ISSAC…"

I've saved this post until I watched all 3 specials. HOLY SHIT FIRE I agree that it feels like a lighted path @ingravinoveritas. I feel like the whole thing was made for David. They chose HIM for a reason. Or maybe he chose IT? There couldn't be a more perfect person for this. It must have felt SO important, for a variety of reasons. The whole thing to me seemed to bring Dr Who into the present day. Very now. Very relevant. And just think how much it must mean to Wilf <3

@martinsharmony I have an Ask waiting in my inbox that will allow me to talk more about this, but in brief: There have been a lot of people in the fandom on Twitter attacking Michael--and by extension David--lately, and one thing that has incensed me beyond measure is seeing someone say David (and Georgia) never cared about queer rights until they had a LGBTQ+ child. While I can't confidently speak to Georgia's stance, I feel very strongly that that is definitely not at all the case with David. This is something I have felt for a long time now, but most especially since hearing him on that podcast last year: That having an LGBTQ+ child has made David significantly more vocal about queer rights, but it was far from what made him start caring about it in the first place.

Listening to that podcast now, in the context of the DW 60th anniversary specials--specials we knew nothing about at the time the podcast aired, but that David did know about--makes things even clearer. It's not about acknowledging that the Doctor is queer, or downplaying what happened in those specials because "the Doctor has always been queer." It's about this iteration of the Doctor being able to acknowledge it. It's about David, who played (arguably, as far as I'm aware) the most popular modern incarnation of the Doctor, openly being not straight on international television. Even if it was something as casual as saying Isaac Newton is hot, the entire point is that it was something he couldn't have said while playing Ten all those years ago.

It's also my understanding that other DW actors were approached for the specials but declined to take part (someone please correct me if I have that wrong, though), but as you said, it genuinely feels like the whole thing was made and meant for David. That in this particular time and cultural climate--which is, in some ways, more difficult and less safe to be queer in than 15 years ago--and after having played Crowley for two seasons of Good Omens, it was David who was tasked with bringing DW into a new era. It was David who Russell trusted to help the audience understand why it mattered, because he knew David already understood why.

Maybe David understood because he knew what it would mean to Wilf, or because he came to discover what it meant to himself--or both. The entire point is that something lead him to this lighted path, and now he knows it's there and that he has the choice to follow wherever it may lead. It's also that there are countless queer kids and teenagers who watched those 60th anniversary specials who are now going to feel safe being themselves because of David, just as watching Doctor Who as a child made him feel safe to be himself. And I can't think of anything more beautiful than that...

#martinsharmony #reply post #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #doctor who #doctor who 60th anniversary #tenth doctor #or Fourteen #also i think being Fourteen made David feel safe to be himself as an adult #in a different way than watching as a kid #but no less powerful #and we can see the change in him on the inside and outside #i just hope he is happy and safe and accepted for who he is #let people be who they are #bisexuality #thoughts #discourse

[ladylooch]

All About You- Brady Skjei

A/N: Whew, is it ever too early for smut on a Saturday? No? Okay thanks for making me feel better 🤪

I had a couple of requests for Brady Skjei, so this is my gift to both of those lovely anons.

My perception of Brady is very, very soft with a rough side, so I tried to capture that perception here. Thanks for reading!

Word count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ Content, swearing, unsavory things while driving (be safe. Obey most of the laws).

I’m awakened on an off-day Sunday by Brady rolling out of bed. I wince at the sun streaking in through the blinds, annoyed with last night us that decided we were too drunk to do one last step. I toss my arm over my eyes, stretching my back out. I attempt to settle myself deeper into bed as I feel the other side dip from Brady’s return.

“How do you want your coffee?” He asks me. His fingers wrap around my wrist, pulling it from my face so he can place kisses along my soft skin. I sigh at the brief presses, throwing an arm around his shoulders.

“Cold and in two hours.” I mutter.

“Cold it is.” Another kiss and he’s gone.

I doze in and out of consciousness for the next few minutes until I hear his heavy footsteps coming back down the hall. I open one eye at him, seeing my to-go tumbler filled with delicious liquid gold. I reach for it, confused.

“Am I going somewhere?” 

“Yeah, baby. Get dressed. Comfy clothes only today.”

“Where are we going?”

“You’ll see.” His smile is mischievous. 

“Brady, it’s too early for games.” I say to him, slowly sitting up. My shoulders slouch forward. I can tell my hair is a mess, my mascara is definitely smudged into raccoon eyes and my breath is hot garbage. And still, he looks at me like he’s never seen anything more beautiful. His brown eyes liquify. Eventually, he comes to, leaning forward to connect our lips. He doesn’t mind garbage breath. 

“No games. I promise.” He says nothing more as he wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me from the bed. 

“This is a game.”

“No, it’s to get you to move that hot ass a little faster.” He sets me in the bathroom then gives my butt a slap. “Hustle, Skjei.”

I try to do as coach asked, alternating between getting ready tasks and small sips of my coffee. Brady comes in at least three more times to check my progress until I shut the door on him.

“You’re making this take longer!” I yell through the door at his protesting.

“I need you done in five minutes.” He responds.

I’m done in three, opening the door to find him laying on the bed, hands crossed over his stomach, staring at the ceiling. He pops up, assessing my outfit of yoga pants and a cropped, peach sweatshirt. My hair is settled into a high ponytail and I’m makeup free.

“Just the way I like you.” He murmurs, walking towards me. His hands slide to my ass, gripping both cheeks with his strong hands. His mouth encloses mine. My fingers card through his long hair, tugging the strands slightly just how he loves. “Oof. Okay, we better go before I change my mind.”

“When do I get to know where we are going?” I ask him as I click my seatbelt into place. 

“When we get there.” He insists, pulling out of our garage. “Enjoy the ride, baby.” He jokes as he puts on my favorite true crime podcast that he literally loathes. I squeal in delight, tucking my legs into a pretzel, gripping my tumbler and listening intently. 

We are on the road, traveling through the morning humidity haze until we come to an obscure building with windows only facing out towards a fenced wooded area. I turn to Brady expectantly. 

“Today is all about you.” He murmurs. “You’ve been so good to me this season. Taking care of every detail with the house renovation, food for us, attending every home game, and making sure I’m always ready to hit the road. I love and appreciate you so much. I couldn’t be successful in this league without you.”

“B-” I pout sweetly at him.

“Nah. Don’t deflect. I mean it, I’m so lucky to have you. So, I planned a whole spa day for you. Just you. I know you really want to get some alone time in to recharge, so it’s all set for you.” 

“Really?”

“Yeah, whatever they do here, you’re getting it. You deserve to be pampered. And I would gladly do it, but I think you’ll be getting better service from the professionals.” I laugh, thinking of Brady attempting to paint my nails.

“Let’s be honest. We wouldn’t get passed the massage part.” I grin, leaning across the center console to kiss him. “You’re so sweet. Thank you.”

“Thank you. Now, get out of this car. I’ll pick you up in five hours.”

Brady wasn’t kidding. He absolutely went all out for me. The spa had it all- tranquil music, cozy waiting areas, and the most luxurious robes I’d ever slipped onto my body. I started with a gentle, Swedish massage, then moved into a moisturizing facial. By the time I got to my manicure and pedicures, I was a puddle of goo in the chair. I sipped on expensive champagne, ate delicious snacks of fruit and assorted cheeses all while enjoying my own company and several podcasts that had built up in my Spotify episodes. By the time I saw my husband again, I felt like a completely different person.

“Holy shit.” I say to him as I collapse into the passenger seat. His hand immediately finds my thigh, rubbing his thumb against the smooth fabric of my pants. “I don’t think I’ve ever been this relaxed in my whole life. And that includes our honeymoon.” I rest my head back against the seat, sighing contently. I slowly open my eyes, turning to Brady who gives me that same look from this morning- like I’m the best thing he’s ever seen. “Thank you.” I finish in a whisper. “This season has been a grind.” I admit, not that it’s news. After two shortened seasons, the 82 game season was an adjustment. 

“I know.” He reaches his hand up, cupping my cheek to bring our lips together. He feels like heaven. I can’t help but moan. The air in the car shifts and Brady presses his mouth tighter to mine. I nibble his bottom lip in my mouth, reaching my hand out to skirt across the zipper of his shorts. 

“Only one more thing could make this day perfect.”

“Oh, we aren’t even close to done yet.” He tells me. “That was just phase one.”

“What did I do to deserve you?” I whine, watching as he pulls away to start driving.

“It was the five star head on our 1st date.”

“Brady!” I snap, slapping his thigh. His quad seemingly claps back, making my hand sting. My cheeks tint red at the memory. Normally I’m not someone to put out on the first date, but something about Brady was different from the start. I wanted to.. no I had to, at that sophomore year homecoming party hosted by the hockey team.

“I think about that on a weekly basis.” He admits to me, flipping his turn signal on and heading to the right. “Knew I’d do just about anything to keep that mouth on me.” I drop my head in my hands, laughing. I slide my fingers apart, swiveling my head to look at him.

“What would you do for it right now?” I can feel the breath rush from his chest at the thought. Most of our way home is obscure backroads. Very little traffic is with us or going the opposite direction. It’s risky, but not impossible.

“You start us in this car and I’ll finish us inside of you.”

“Promise?” I ask, skirting my fingers along the growing bulge.

“Yeah, baby.” He moans as I work the button of his shorts apart.

After a little awkward maneuvering, I get him out of his boxer briefs. I work the seatbelt around my shoulders, keeping it across my lap and perching my mouth in front of his thick shaft. I wrap my fingers delicately around it, pumping the velvet skin and watching as a bead appears at his slit. My tongue licks at it, savoring the salty pleasure. Brady’s hand comes between my shoulder blades like he’s bracing himself for what is next. I kiss his tip the leisurely part my lips for pull him into my mouth. The passionate sigh he releases has anticipating tightening my inner core.

“Was it this good?” I ask him before taking him all the way into my mouth. I let him thrust deeper, nudging down my throat. 

“No.” He admits. “It’s better now that you’re my wife.” I smile around him, then grip the base of his shaft with my hand. When my mouth and hand begin to work together, Brady groans deeply. His breathing increases and his grip on the steering wheel tightens. He presses into my back, encouraging me deeper. I do, then revel in the tortured sounds coming from his mouth. I feel the car stop, sensing we are just about to turn left into our neighborhood. “Go faster until the light turns green.” He begs. I comply, working him over quickly- sucking, licking, and squeezing. “Fuuuuuck.” He moans. A car honks behind us. Brady tugs my ponytail for me to stop. “No more until we are home. Damn, I hate saying that, but I won’t make it if you keep going.”

I pop back up, shoulders rolled back like a queen while wiping at my mouth. Brady’s hand moves to between my legs, feeling the heat radiating. He works his fingers in deeper as I spread wider for him. I grip his wrist as he teases me with the tips of his fingers, not able to get the movement he wants through my Lulu’s. 

“Hold on a bit longer, babe.” He says as he turns onto our street.

The garage door is barely open enough for the car to clear. I cringe, expecting Brady to hit it and breathe a sigh of relief when he doesn’t. When the car is in park, he pushes the button again to close. I shove my door open, meeting him on the outside. Our hands grope each other greedily. He works us backwards towards the door. He presses me hard against the wood, wrapping my knee around his waist to grind into my folds.

I reach behind me, twisting the knob so we crash into the mudroom. Brady spins us, then pulls me towards the built in oak, cubbies.

“Come here.” He demands, sitting in the middle of the built ins. I laugh, thinking of how we built these slots for our future children to have a place for their little coats and shoes.

Brady’s shorts drop to his ankles. I work myself to straddle his lap, more than ready for him to be stuffed inside of me. I grip his rigid cock so I can slide down. I glide down him, settling my thighs against his. I moan, accepting his immediate thrusting up into me. I’m so wet, him so rigid, that the feelings are electing profound moans from us both. 

“Good God.” He pants, looking up into my face as I ride him. He shoves my shirt up, pulling my sports bra down to reveal my nipple. I sob out in pleasure as he works the bud with his tongue. I reach up, gripping the metal hooks and adjusting my angle on him. 

“Yes. Oh my god, yes.” I laugh incredulously at how unbelievable it feels. I can already feel my orgasm torturing me for release. “Babe.” I warn him.

“Mmm, you’re so beautiful fucking me like this.” He insists between tugs on my nipple.

“I’m coming.” I tell him. He keeps the exact tempo I need, keeping my nipple flush against his tongue as he wiggles me to my explosive orgasm. “Fu-fuck yes.” I wail, gripping the back of his neck, my fresh manicure digging into his tan skin. “Shit.” I sob to him as my inner muscles clench tightly around him.

“God damn.” He moves his hand to the small of my back, working my hips into him until he fills me. I rut against him to help him finish completely, then collapse against his chest. 

“So our least favorite kid gets this one?” He jokes of the cubbies. 

“That’s mean…” I trail off, hot breath dancing against his t-shirt.

“Fair… maybe the one we just made then.” I smile against his skin. 

“So we are trying now?”

“I mean, you threw your birth control out of the car last night on the way home from dinner?”

“What!” I exclaim, shocked.

“Yeah, you were like… I’m ready Brady!” He mocks me with a high voice. His hand tosses over his shoulder.

“What the…” I trail off, not remembering that. “Stop letting me drink Palomas.”

“I mean, I just came in you unprotected so, I’ve done what I can on that for nine months.”

“Yeah… then I guess we are trying. Thanks drunk me.” I giggle, placing our lips together. Brady gently lifts me. I wince a bit as he slides out, my folds feeling used and a bit raw. 

“Okay?” He asks me, searching my face.

“Way better than okay.” I assure him.

“You ready for phase two?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Good. Trashy TV, couch cuddles, and take out- coming right up.”

It’s finally confirmed, I think to myself as Brady exits the mudroom to get phase 2 prepared. Being married to Brady Skjei is heaven on earth.

#Brady skjei #Brady Skjei fan fiction #Brady Skjei smut #Carolina hurricanes #hockey writing #NHL fan fiction #writing request #my writing

[thinplacesradio]

stacked sound equipment and a radio with glowing green numbers. the image is distorted by VCR static. white text reads:

[026] THE SEEKER... A CALLER WAITS. THE SEEKER HEARS A VOICE ON THE RADIO.

listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning]

[traveling sales rep: don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right b-]

[a high-register voice, not the Host’s:]

Car radio, yet again. Fixed, for now. It’s from a 2005 Honda CR-V, which I know is old, but, as you know, it’s been acting up for months now, um, and it finally just gave out on me. I don’t even know what worked to resurrect it here, but, well. [tools moving] The mystery of life, I guess. I’m sure it’ll start jumping stations again any day now.

[beep]

I could use a distraction so we are back to the transmitter. I’m building it from scratch instead of from a kit, uh, which basically means I’m just buying the parts that would have been in the kit separately, so I don’t really know if I’m saving money here or losing it. [tools clink] It’s pretty much kid stuff, but hey. It’s nice to go back to the basics sometimes, I guess. I think just to make it interesting I might take one of the old desktops to see if I can link it to some visuals? With different colors representing, I dunno, different letters, maybe? Maybe… make it so the words will show up as you tap the code in? Or I could just leave it with the binary, do kind of a black and white thing. I don’t know. [sigh] I don’t know.

[beep]

[phone ringing] [voicemail]

Hey, it’s me, you know what to do!

[beep]

[phone ringing] [voicemail]

Hey, it’s me, you –

[beep]

No one knows where she is, why does nobody know where she is. I - I think there’s something wrong.

[beep]

[phone ringing]

We’re sorry. You have reached a number that has been disconnected, or is no longer in service. To -

[beep]

I didn’t quit my job today. This isn’t really a project log, but I almost quit my job today, and I didn’t, and I, I think that deserves to be noted down, somewhere. I love what I do. But - doing it doesn’t seem as important anymore when I could be looking for her. I know I haven’t found a single thing, but that’s no reason to stop. I - [sigh]

I don’t know why I’m talking around it like this. Someone that matters to me is gone, and no one knows what happened, or why, or if - 

I wish she was just ghosting me, specifically. Like, that’s not something I want, at all, but I would take it if it meant that she was safe, living her life somewhere else. [sigh]

I don’t. I don’t think she’s dead. I really hope she isn’t dead. Sometimes I’d be at work glancing at the chat and there would be no new messages. Or at home with my phone on the table building myself a new desktop, and there would be no new messages. But I could still feel her on the other side, connected to me with that, I don’t know, electronic tether. Even when she wasn’t there, it helped knowing that she was somewhere.

That’s how it feels, still. I think she’s somewhere. I just don’t know where.

[voicemail]

Hiiiii, iris! Hi-riss! That’s nothing, sorry.  I texted you but I guess you must’ve lost track of time? I’ll just scale the building here and crawl in the IT window - you guys have windows, right? I feel like I imagine you in like a scifi basement most of the time. Anyway. I’m here, I’ll see you soon. Get down here before I bribe the security guard to let me in. I... yeah. See ya. I’ll be here.

[beep]

[morse code beeping] 

T-E-S-T. S-O-S. [pause] Where… are… you? 

Stupid, Iris. Just, stupid.

[beep] [equipment rustling, clinking, scraping]

It was, um, same company, different cities. I called her on the phone before I ported in to fix her computer, and she was – warm? Tired. Not exactly funny, but trying to make me laugh. I didn’t, but I thought about it, just to see if she’d laugh back? She messaged me on the company chat after, to thank me, and sent me a link to an article we’d been talking about while I worked on her desktop. I don’t remember what it was about even though it feels like I should. There are a lot of things I’m already forgetting. But I messaged back, and then we didn’t stop messaging. Until eight months ago.

I always want to know more about everything. Too much, probably. I can never stop digging. But she was the only one who really wanted to know more about… me.

I’m glad I got to meet her, but - I was supposed to keep meeting her - I - 

[beep]

[morse code beeping]

Don’t… be… dead.

[beep] [equipment moving aggressively]

Rob told me today that if I’m not going to go out for drinks with them after work anymore my only hobby can’t be looking for someone who’s been missing for a year. Really kind of insensitive, honestly. [huff] But I have been reading too many police reports, so today I will be starting a new project altogether.

[beep]

It’s the car radio, again, always the car radio. I should just buy a new one at this point, but then I’d never find out what was wrong with this one. Alright, okay, we’re trying scanning again, here we go.

[channels scan] [we hear the Sales Rep, and then the Host, cutting in and out:]

- Thank you for - feel - on - as always, our number is 71–

[Iris scrambles to stop the station but misses it. She tries tuning it back.]

Wait, wait wait wait wait. W-wait wait wait. 102 point 1. Oh my god. Oh my God. Wait. Hold on. 102 point - Wait, come back. Come back. 

I don’t – I don’t understand – [the road prov-] that’s Ha -

[beep] [keyboard clacking] 

I’m not the only person who’s heard her. There are people on subreddits talking about catching a radio call-in show on one frequency, exactly when they needed to hear it, but then not finding it again when they look for it, but just - How do I not need to hear it?

Here’s what I know about “the Host,” from what they know about the Host. Um, she’s always moving somewhere. She cares about her listeners. She’s experiencing impossible things, and so are the people calling in. And there’s a number.

Here’s what I know about my friend. She listened. She hated her job and always wanted a longer break. She loves pigeons and thinks that if aliens exist they’re single celled and acidophilic. She misses her mom. She was always reaching out for something. She was my friend.

[frantic music begins]

I know her voice, even if I haven’t heard it again. I know it was her, and I know I’m going to hear it again. I’m going to find the station. I’m going to find her.

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: the - road - provides - the - road - provides -]

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. 

The voice of Iris is Kaitlin Bruder. 

The voice of H[static] is Kristen O’Neal. 

Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music track you heard in tonight’s episode is: Junoon by RANA. If you have a question to ask, a story to tell, or a suggestion for the host, give us a call at ‪[phone]. The lines are always open.

[Junoon plays]

#if you're gonna listen to an episode make it this one. fyi. #026 #the seeker #thin places radio #tpr #episodes #fiction podcast #liminal #surreal #thin places #caller: redacted #:) #iris

[sunshinecatie]

My Time with Rogues! The Podcast

My little journey with Rogues! the Podcast started back on July 27th. I got a DM from friend of mine talking about this podcast on Spotify (and that I would LOVE this version of The Riddler). I distinctly remember laying in a hammock falling asleep to Edward Nygma berate listeners over their stupid riddles and questions. (I later almost fell out of the hammock when I heard a southern Jonathan Crane). Rogues! was my little safe space for a long time. I kept it close to my chest. I was dealing with a lot of very emotional things that summer and Rogues! made me happy. It made me feel better. I could turn on an episode and I knew I would feel at least a bit better. November 11th is another very special day in my heart and journey with Rogues! (and the greater Codotverse) That was the day I uploaded my very first tiktok about the podcast and it was just supposed to be a silly little joke. Nothing was supposed to come of it. I even made a joke about how niche it was. I tagged the creator himself, Codot aka TheVoiceBoss, not expecting anything of it but it changed everything. I became a prominent tiktok creator who made Codotverse content. I started making friends through the podcast.

@sh4pes-4nd-colors and I became campaign managers for a season. We're managing a zine dedicated to Rogues! called Rogues! the Fanzine. We're making our own story driven podcast.

My best friend in the entire world @lunar-scapes and I got internships across the country together and we're going to be living together.

All of this sprouted from the love of a singular creative project from two people that truly do love what they do regardless of the popularity or monetary compensation.

Alls this to say. Thank you @voiceboss for everything you've done knowingly or unknowingly for me. Rogues! provides me a comfort not many pieces of media can. It means the absolute world to me. Rogues! reignited my love in DC comics (and comics in general) and I cannot thank you enough for everything you and Dee have done. Thank you from the bottom of my heart. I look forward to next year of fun and dastardly schemes.

#codotverse #catie speaks #rogues! the podcast #me being sentimental on main #im not sorry #rogues! means the world to me

[go-to-the-mirror]

i dont want to talk about scrutiny

WHATEVER, FINE, OKAY, WE'RE DOING SCRUTINY, OR SOMETHING, FINE, WHATEVER, WHAT EVER

i love scrutiny, i do, but in the way that i love threshold, and nothing beside remains, and seeing it through, and a guest for mr spider. meaning I really do, but I also hate it with vitriol. Not really? It's complicated. I have Some Feelings Towards it. Yep. Look this podcast makes me feel happiness and sadness and anger at the same bloody time, but it's all confused because it's overridden by being Very ADHD about it, so like, they're all rattling around in there. I hate it (affectionate), I love it (derogatory), you get it?

Anyway, y'all know how I feel about Jon already, and if you don't, it's love and only love, so uhm, yeah, let's just get on with it already, rambling and mostly rambling, attempts to set aside my undying love for the Jarchivist for like a day, etc.

@a-mag-a-day

Firstly, I'd like to draw attention to the posts I made on my instagram story about this when I was first listening to TMA, because I was Not Alright.

The first was highlighting the description of the episode: "Statement of an unknown bystander, regarding an encounter with The Archivist." "The Archivist." Not "Jonathan Sims," not "Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, London," not even "Jonathan Sims, The Archivist."

Just... The Archivist.

The second was regarding the first, saying that I knew it was deserved but he should be allowed to eat a few fears. As a treat.

I didn't say anything to my partner (who you should follow by the way, they're scarandjoelenthusiast), cause I think I was still attempting to be spoiler free for vex at that point, lol. And I had no other... friends. At all. Um. Yeah.

So, onto the relisten! Oh boy.

MARTIN Ah, alright, did he... did he look like he hadn't slept in about a week?

I absolutely love that Jon's descriptors are looking like shit, and looking like Jesus. That's just amazing.

Also uh,,, why did Martin immediately go to Jon? Hm..

Everything, every bit of light or sound or, or anything that changed, that said time was passing. There was nothing. Before that I never really thought about time, you know? But now… Yeah.

that must have been terrifying

So, it, it took a long time to get over that. I mean, that’s not weird, right? I me— It was a bad time. You know, it, it stays with you. Was signed off, what, I think about six months with the injuries. Had pretty bad, uh, nightmares, claustrophobia, I mean, obviously, right? But, uh, but, but I did my physio, and, you know, talked, talked with the counsellor they gave me. Look, I did everything I was supposed to and, and yeah, I… I guess I was fine. You know, once the bruises were gone I— Well, it’s easy to blame memory, right? You know, ha-hallucination, coincidence, all the classic shite you tell yourself. Life went back to normal. I— I was fine. Until about two weeks ago.

Jesus fucking christ, Jon. She was fine, trying to get over it, Floyd was fine and that's just it, because they think they're safe, and-

She was fine, she was okay, and he took that from her, he took that from her, he made it so she couldn't be fine anymore, he made it so every god. damn. night she'd experience that again, the bastard.

There’s this creep in, in the corner. Your guy. He just… keeps staring at me, like, like properly staring. Like, it is super intense and, and real weird. Like he knows me, but I sure as hell do not know him. I— I try to ignore him, look, I just, I just read my book, and every time I look up there he is, watching me.

Girls when they realise oh yes, he's an avatar.

So… Look, I’m packing up, all done and, and I just, I just sorta turn, you know, just, just to check if he’s still there and he is standing right behind— Like, like a few inches from my face. Look, it’s messed up!

That's??? Terrifying?? I mean, look, like, my sisters jump whenever I quietly stand behind them and stare intently, and they're my sisters, they know me, they know I only joke about stabbing them with a knife, Jon, that's freaky, stop being freaky, you have trauma at home. Go eat a stale trauma for gods sake.

Like, okay Mr. "I don't think it's me doing it." Who sat at a bloody coffee shop for an hour.

I. Understand. That there is a certain. Need. To cause and feed on fear. As an Avatar/Monster/Whatever. And I mean like it's pretty hard. To admit you're in the wrong for something. Even if you think you're in the wrong for other things. But like. None of this matters to Jess, to Floyd, to the three other people whose lives he ruined. He can try be better, he can never do it again, but he can't go back and fix it.

And I start to ask him, you know, what the hell, man, you know? Like— But he just starts talking. Slowly. But real intense. He says, he works here, at the, the Magnus Institute, and I say, what even is that and he says, he wants my story. He says he needs to hear what happened to me. And I— I want to tell him to jj-just go away. I want to, to, to kick him and run. But I— (long sigh) I sit down. And I start to tell him everything. About the job, about the collapse, a-about the hand. More than I told you, even, and, and as I do— it’s like I’m there again. Like I can feel it grab my ankle, th-th-that cold, dead hand and I just… I just can’t stop talking. I cannot shut up.

[ID: A blurry photo of CC!GoodTimesWithScar with his head in his hands. /End ID]

And then it was over. And he looked— He looked at me like he’d just eaten, like a perfectly cooked steak. You know what he said? He said, “Thank you.” “Thank you.” Just like that. Like, like reliving the worst parts of my whole life were just a bit of a… a favour that I’d done him. And then he left and I— I just sat there and cried for a while.

i don't know what to say im just sitting here with my head in my hands.

And he’s there the whole time, just… watching me. Watching me scream and thrash and… He’s all eyes. He’s all eyes.

I kinda want to punch him right about now, because how dare he do that to her, how dare he ruin her life just because he wanted to. Whatever, avatar, feed your god or it'll feed on you, I don't care, that's his business, not hers. She wasn't involved, she didn't have to be involved, she was fine and he took that from her, the bastard!

How dare he sit there talking about choice, how dare he feel all guilty for ruining her life, how dare he! He doesn't deserve to feel bad about it. Christ, Jon, what the fuck.

But I feel like I’m seeing him when I’m awake as well. I’ve been… I’ve been having a lot of problems since he talked to me. Since I talked to him. Since I told my... story. The, the claustrophobia, it’s back, worse than it ever was and I can’t do my job. I have these, these screaming panic attacks every time I try and— What am I supposed to do? Like, feels like, like every time I’m even slightly underground I— Can’t even go into a shop basement more without feeling that… (sniffs) hand. Every time I do, every time I get that panic just rising up my throat, I see him. He’s there. Not when I look properly, but just at the edge. The corner of my eye. Then he’s gone.

(MAG 142 - Scrutiny)

Since then, she said she’d been seeing that woman everywhere she went.

(MAG 6 - Worm Sex Episode Squirm)

✨ becoming what you hated ✨

No, but I have a lot of feelings on becoming a fear entity Avatar and the cycle of violence. Of how Avatars often only became Avatars because of previous trauma, because they had no other options. Of how they often don't see themselves as victims, for example Annabelle Cane describing herself as manipulative, even as she was a child trying to cope in an abusive household. And I think that Jon being like Jane Prentiss, following his victims like her, starting to understand her... that ties into those themes. I love this podcast <3.

MARTIN No, no, it’s— Thank you. I just— [Agitated clatter] For god’s sake, can he not just stay safe for like, like ten minutes?! DAISY I don’t think that’s an option for him anymore. MARTIN Yeah, I mean, sure. But he just… he doesn’t think! He always just immediately charges straight off into danger with whatever, whatever half-arsed plan occurs to him at the time! I don’t get it! DAISY What’s to get? MARTIN What? DAISY I, I mean, it’s pretty standard stuff. MARTIN What? DAISY Used to see it all the time back in the force, especially with the sectioned. Not like there’s ‘normal’ trauma, you know, but it’s pretty common. The most important thing becomes control, engaging on your own terms. Even when it’s stupid or dangerous. Anything to not feel helpless. MARTIN Oh god… DAISY And of course for Jon’s there’s survivor’s guilt in there too. He thinks he’s not human. Makes him very… self-destructive.

PODDED CAST!!

Thank you, Jonny.

Like hgnhhrnhhnr <3 yep. mhhnm there's another post that talks about the meaning of putting that in with scrutiny, I'll tag a mag a day in that.

Like! Aa! Thank you. Don't really have much to add, I mean I said a bunch in other episodes rambles, specifically the MAG 131, 132, and 136 ones.

I mean you know, the whole spider thing, a bit of his self-blame about... the end of season 4... could come from... if he's not to blame, then he didn't have any control, then all of this was out of his control. If he couldn't stop it, if Jimmy Magma's plan was that good then... well, then he was helpless, and there's nothing worse than being helpless.

in conclusion, disregard the above Jon did nothing wrong- no, he's... he doesn't get to be forgiven by Jess, by Floyd, by the others, not unless they choose to forgive him. But he can work on doing better, you know? He's allowed to not wallow in guilt the whole time, he's not irredeemable, he just did bad things -- bad things he can't fix -- but he can work on never doing those bad things again, on mitigating the damage as much as he can. He's not a bad person, just a person who did bad things.

I dunno, I'm more interested in the metaphysics side of philosophy. You know there's a branch of philosophy called metametaphysics? I think it's so funny.

#tma #the magnus archives #mag 142 #jonathan sims #jess terrell #tma meta #a mag a day #landscaping-your-mind-chapter-one #podded cast <3

[alexagirlie]

Whispers from the Void

A/N: please ignore the crappy art and just get the *vibe*. I am not good at scenery stuff but wanted to use my drawing vs finding something. Another old Dune fic for cross posting. Inspired by Old God of Appalachia podcast.

Divider by @firefly-graphics

Pairing: None technically but past Paul/Duncan

Rated: T

Word count: 914

TW: Dark. Spirits. Voices. The dead speak. Ambiguous Ending.

Summary: It's only as he is rubbing the dusty powder between his fingers that Paul realizes that the whispering voices have stopped and in the absolute silence a feeling of dread builds up in Paul's chest. He remembers leaving his Yali, he remembers walking the corridors but does not remember making the decision to move his feet. To listen to what the voices were saying.

Taglist: @succnfuccubus @almostg @gatoenlaciudad @softhecreator

Paul tells no one, not his mother, not Stilgar, not even Chani who had become a close friend in the weeks since arriving at Sietch Tabr. It started with voices, whispers in the dark calling to Paul, begging him to come. They lead him down a winding dark corridor, somewhere he had never seen until he comes to what at first he thinks is a dead end in the dark. Only its not a dead end, its a hole, a hole in the wall that seems to suck all the light in.

As Paul's eyes adjust to the dark he sees the wall surrounding the hole is covered in strange sprawling symbols. Reaching out with a trembling hand he touches one of those symbols, fingers gliding down the drawn point and coming away smeared with white. Its chalk.

It's only as he is rubbing the dusty powder between his fingers that Paul realizes that the whispering voices have stopped and in the absolute silence a feeling of dread builds up in Paul's chest. He remembers leaving his Yali, he remembers walking the corridors but does not remember making the decision to move his feet. To listen to what the voices were saying.

It had been like he had no control over his body and the idea terrified him. The hair on the back of his neck stands on end and a chill runs down his spine. He takes a step back from that black hole in the wall, then another and another and as he gets further away the fear continues to grow until he can no longer stand it and he takes off running down the corridor. Bare feet pounding on the stone and taking him back the way he came, back to his Yali, back to where he was safe.

The next day, when the light of the twin suns have filled the halls of the sietch and the fear from the night before is but a distant memory Paul asks Chani about the strange hole with its strange markings. Claims he couldn't sleep the night before and was wandering trying to tire his mind.

A look Paul has never seen on Chani crossed her face, a pit opening in his stomach filled with unease. She explained that the area was off limits to everyone, the tunnel was abandoned due to being deemed unsafe. She would not say anymore on the matter. Would not explain how or why it was unsafe and Paul was forced to drop his questioning.

That night the voices came back, louder and more persistent than the night before only this time Paul was determined to ignore them. Nothing good could possibly come from listening, from going to that dark place again. On and on they went, getting louder thensofter than louder again screaming in his ear. Voices of strangers, voices of people he once knew. Gurney, Thufir, his Fathers voice making Paul's heart clench with grief. But still he ignored them. Until he heard a voice he couldn't ignore, a voice he longed to hear again with all his heart and soul.

My Boy

I need you

Help me

Paul

Paul's mind had barely caught up to the fact that it was Duncan's voice calling him before his feet were carrying him out of the door. He raced blindly down corridor after corridor until he came panting to the dead end that wasn't a dead end. To the hole in the wall that sucked in all the light.

A figure was standing just the threshold, tall and broad and achingly familiar. Duncan. Paul did not hesitate, did not stop and think how Duncan was dead and could not possibly be standing there and he ran to him. Threw his arms around Duncan's middle and buried his head in his chest. Eyes burning with tears.

Several minutes go by, Duncan's name falling from Paul's lips in a mantra, before that skin crawling feeling from the first night creeps back down Paul's spine. During the whole time he has been embracing Duncan he had not wrapped Paul in his arms, had not reciprocated in any way. Paul wasn't even sure that Duncan was breathing.

He goes to step back when hands lock onto his arms, grip so tight they pull a pained gasp from mouth and he jerks his head up to look at Duncan's face. Before he has a chance to open his mouth to ask what was wrong he is pulled up and a mouth crashes against his in a bruising kiss. Lips and teeth, devouring and pulling the breath from his lungs. Paul can't help but return the kiss, a groan rising up out of his throat as he presses back. Arms rising up and wrapping around Duncan's neck, Duncan arms wrapped low around his hips and hiking him up into his arms. He had missed Duncan with every piece of himself.

So caught up in the impossibility of having his love back with him that he couldn't see it. Couldn't see that the warm brown he had spent hours staring into was replaced with soulless black. Couldn't see the darkness crawling out of the hole like oil slicked fingers, traveling across the wall. The white chalk symbols disappear one after the other until none remain.

The thing wearing Duncan's face had finally gotten what it needed to step out of the prison that had kept it trapped for a millennia and it was hungry

#kirstin's chronicles #dune #dune fanfiction #paul atreides

[astramthetaprime]

How about a Switchback?

So yeah.

Mom's back at the nursing home.

Another round of Covid went through last weekend.

I went to see her on Sunday.

And so now we both have it.

It's been mostly just annoying to me, but I'm (relatively) healthy. I do worry about my mother as she's hanging on by a thread at the best of times these days, but I haven't gotten The Call again so I assume she's still on this side of the life line. Admittedly, my normal life consists of spending the vast majority of my week here at Casa Proton, I really only go out on the weekends to get groceries and to have my one meal out a week and to go see Mom. So none of that is happening this weekend but I'll be going to pick up my groceries at WallyWorld later today. The dog needs his food and treats even if I feel completely blah and have no motivation to figure out my menu for this week. So I went with the lowest hanging fruit and it's going to be hot dogs and pizza this week. It'll make a nice change from the hamburgers and pizza it's been the last few weeks.

Autism is all about the safe foods. Not the healthy foods. The safe foods.

Moving right along, y'know that job I trained for 5 weeks for? Yeah. We finished all that work. And now they have me doing something else for which I had half a day's training. Unexpectedly. Then two days later said "nope, need you to go back to the other" and it took me over an hour to remember how to do the original job. Bad with unexpected transitions doesn't even begin to cover it. But this is the real world, right? This is how things work in today's modern offices, it's pivot this and agile that and multitasking and moving onward and upward.

Is it too much to ask to work one job, continuously, for a few years? Like 13 years? Long enough that I can retire?

My mom did the same job for 34 years. I did the same jobs with the Postal Service for 14 and 10 years respectively, data entry and then clerk.

At least I'm working at home. I cannot tell you how beneficial that is from an autistic standpoint. The lack of stress from not driving downtown to work, the lack of danger to myself and my irreplaceable car, the time saved, I log off and in two minutes I'm out in my front yard throwing balls for my dog. I can listen to music or podcasts or audiobooks during work just as I used to do back in my early days at the PO and I'm so damned grateful for that. So grateful.

I know I just have to suck it up and deal -- I haven't said anything to my supervisors. What could I say that wouldn't make me sound like I was whining or demanding special treatment? This is business, this is how it works these days, you either deal or you fall off the wheel and end up homeless and starving on the street. I don't have the leeway to make choices yet. I may never have that luxury, I may inherit nothing from my mother after all is said and done. It's so damned ghoulish to think that way. Anticipating her death so I can benefit from it. We all like to think we're good and moral people but this socioeconomic paradigm makes people inherently greedy. What is "moral" when you can financially benefit from your parent's death?

When my Daddy died, I inherited $6,000. I bought my first real computer and modem. A 286 Bondwell B-310V laptop with a black and white screen and a 2400bpm external modem. This was pre-Internet. I was dating a hacker at the time and he gave me a copy of a dialing program called Telex that let me call up BBS systems. And a copy of WordPerfect. And I was off to the races.

So yeah, kids, I'm older than dirt. Modems used to make noises. Your brain started equating those noises to joyful experiences and fun and suddenly you get dopamine from hearing the most godawful grindy modem tones.

The crazy thing? I still do.

This is still the sound of joy.

#actually autistic #allaboardtheangstexpress #modem strings bring joy #Youtube

[sunmarketing]

"Table for One: Dining Tips and Tricks for Solo Female Travelers"

  "Savoring Solitude: Women's Guide to Eating Out Alone While Traveling"

  "Table for One: Dining Tips and Tricks for Solo Female Travelers"

You have three meals a day, and you are solo. What do you do to enjoy these meals by yourself? You can have some great times if you follow these tips, or maybe you can add more tips for other travelers.

Eating out alone can be a rewarding and enjoyable experience for solo travelers, including women aged 60 and above. Here are some tips to make dining alone more comfortable and enjoyable:

Choose the Right Restaurant: Choose restaurants with a welcoming atmosphere and friendly staff. Look for establishments that cater to solo diners and offer comfortable seating options. You can find them on websites before you go or make reservations. When I was in Florence, Italy, I asked the hostel for a recommendation for a pizza restaurant, and they said Gusta was the best. I got a pizza for myself and a second one to return to the hostel, and I was greeted with a massive hug

Avoid busy or Peak Hours, so ask if you’re unsure which they are. Consider dining during off-peak hours to avoid crowds and long wait times. Lunchtime or early dinner hours are often quieter and more relaxed, making it easier to enjoy your meal in peace. I ate an early dinner in Chennai at a local diner. I asked for no chilis, but it was still spicy hot with chilis. I managed to eat it along with my peanut butter.

Bring a Book or Electronic Device: Bring a book, e-reader, or smartphone to entertain yourself while waiting for your meal. Reading can help you feel more comfortable and confident dining alone. I listen with earbuds and enjoy podcasts and my recordings of conversations with my mom, who died years ago when I travel.

Engage with the Staff: Discuss with the server or bartender if you feel comfortable doing so. They can provide recommendations, share local insights, and make you feel more at ease. A smile will get you started, and after that, just ask a question you may have about the food, the restaurant, or the city. In the Philippines, in El Nido, my server/bartender explained to me that he was a temp worker and he was finished with his shift. His pay included room and board.

Sit at the Bar: Sitting at the bar can be an excellent option for solo diners, offering a more casual and interactive dining experience. You can chat with the bartender or fellow patrons and enjoy watching the action in the kitchen, which can be very entertaining to a solo traveler like me. One restaurant chain lets you sit in the kitchen to watch the meal preparation. See the show notes.

https://www.indiatvnews.com/news/india/yearender-2023-tragic-accidents-in-2023-road-rail-accidents-odisha-coromandel-express-andhra-pradesh-train-collision-tragedy-latest-updates-2023-12-22-908419

Practice Self-Confidence: Remember that dining alone is nothing unusual or embarrassing. Hold your head high, exude confidence, and enjoy the freedom to choose where and what to eat without compromise. I sometimes talk to myself to build my confidence when solo eating.

Stay Safe: Be mindful of your surroundings and trust your instincts when dining alone. Choose well-lit and populated restaurants, avoid sharing personal information with strangers, and secure your belongings. Don’t leave your purse on the back of your chair.

Celebrate Solo Dining: View dining alone as an opportunity for self-care and empowerment. Treat yourself to a delicious meal, savor the experience, and celebrate your independence as a solo traveler.

  Connect with Dr. Travelbest

Drmarytravelbest.com

Dr. Mary Travelbest Twitter

Dr. Mary Travelbest Facebook Page

Dr. Mary Travelbest Facebook Group

Dr. Mary Travelbest Instagram

Dr. Mary Travelbest Podcast

Dr. Travelbest on TikTok

Dr.Travelbest onYouTube

  Check out this Dr Travelbest episode!

#travel #women #dr travelbest #best travel

[renticat]

Not-so-broken earphones.

Okay this is like trivial things in life but for me it's huge as I mostly listening to podcast and music all the time on my phone to just calm me down cause my world is already giving me so much chaos I never asked.

Funny things is I also somewhat philosophical, in a sense I could literally learn anything from small things that happen in my life, maybe because my brain couldn't stop for wondering about why and I always try to make it make sense even when sometimes also it only makes me hurt cause nature and human nature are consist of cruelty and selfishness, it's like inseparable from the good but yeah you have to deal with it whether you liked it or not.

This now my cheeky somewhat broken earphones has successfully making me annoyed and triggered because it keeps pausing the video when I don't do nothing, changing the songs and all that when I don't do anything and just want to listening in peace.

Now that I realized it somewhat so similar about crazy people that I need to constantly deal with in my life, selfish narc people who keep gaslighting me and driving me crazy but then they're blaming me for this crazy attitude of myself when they're the one mostly who caused this because I am so peaceful in nature if I am alone and unbothered if I just be with myself.

Then just change the earphones with good ones, I mean you can't fix it anyway is not broken but it also somehow broken. Yeah if only I can do that and have the ability and source to just be done and not having to deal with pettiness anymore but I can't. Cause I never knew this thing before and it affected me in some way that I am half broken myself, being so dependent to this earphones and I just can't change it as I can't afford it. It's like the safe place but also not because you never have chance at all to explore anything outside. And because the outside world is just as broken, as they never be bothered by this because for them is not the problem.

There is though some people who finally awoken that this thing is not great and it's not supposed to be like that, but it's so far away, also it's just an idea after all for someone like me that literally have no power whatsoever. Prey should not feel so powerless, but then it's like in nature that prey who ate grass and plants has to be ready cause one day by this cruel fate of nature that they're gonna hunted by predators. This manipulative people who loves to drive others crazy for their amusement. Well in nature case at least those prey have so many grass to be satisfied and play at first and how about the ones whose not so fortunate that they're just too many predators and not field with flowers to enjoy for a moment?

Life so bleak and feels like a constant battle. When all the little fawn wanted that just a little peaceful time in field full of flowers. But nature getting more and more cruel, dark and twisted that maybe everyone is somehow just not-so-okay anymore.This earphones and people who lies to me, literally driving me nuts. Cause for decades I believe it, trying to understand it but then it was bunch of lies. And now they're trying to put the blame on me for believing their sweet talk. When back then I don't know anything at all, but now I know, what can I possibly do? It's just making me so sick and sad for real.

#Not-so-broken #not-so-okay.

[the-kimberly]

our dawn is hotter than day

taken from one of my fave track by my fave kpop group - seventeen. here it goes again, the deafening noise of being alone in my flat confined in these corner where intrusive thoughts seemed to be painted on the walls making my mind interpret such abstract designs. for the past few weeks, i have been living alone with my flatmates being barely at home. don't get me wrong, i am happy for them - they are enjoying the freedom and love they have been deserving. it has been awhile since i have posted a brain dump in this safe space and I feel like I have so much more to ay but it's just that, the words and context aren't coming out write as composed as I wish for it to be.

at this very moment, I am on the 2nd day of my standby - the code on my roster I almost loathe. I just feel like it's a waste of time to wait whether or not they want me to go to work. I am craving to be grounded to the outside world enjoying the fresh breeze, appreciating everything around me rather than being stuck at home doing nothing but overthinking.

this year, I have vowed to put myself more out there - to meet new people, gain experiences and truly see the world not just via layovers. as I have come across the post that says, "I recommend going on solo trips. we gotta stop waiting for people to see the world" which in fact, hit's the bull's eye. so many unplanned trips but schedules never matched, different priorities or they just don't value you that much, whatever the reason is, should never be a hindrance most especially if you're well aware that you are capable.

now I'm sitting here infront of my laptop pouring down my thoughts while listening to music planning some self care shenanigans for my days off. I just want to be in my unbothered, do not disturb era lessening putting my life behind the screens but living it instead.

I never had any issues doing things alone - in fact, I really do value my me time but I just wish that on some instances, people would do the same thing for me like making time.

if you think I'm behind my laptop with a frowned face, you are wrong. I'm actually smiling at myself reminiscing about how I was before circa 2018. hurrying to sign out my shift just so I can catch the sunset, have a stroll at the mall and sometimes even treat myself to a nice meal if my budget allows. or how I was during college days - going to binondo to unwind and kill time - or let's not stray away, that version of me during pandemic who has been dedicated to journaling, listening to podcasts and just living - all done alone.

one thing I realized is that - we have to stop waiting for people to do things with us or even for us. that would be such a waste of time waiting for uncertainties. it's like standing under and umbrella waiting for it to rain.

I hope we find the right circle for us - without the guilt of fitting ourselves in a circumference of a wrong equation. or sometimes, just appreciate being alone.

happy 2024!

how have you been?

#life lately #thekimberly #kimsdiary #brain dump

[teatalkstea]

11/11

I thought that asking for space and being by myself would be better, would make me be better somehow. But I am still ugly, I am still annoying, and I am still hurting the girl who loves me so much. I don't know if I love her. I don't know if I can love anyone the way I look. It feels like a sick joke when she says she loves me because she doesn't love the bad things about me and she didn't even respect when I asked for space. I said that I needed to figure out how to be by myself without relying on other people, but she didn't let me be alone at all really. We still talked we still did all the normal stuff but didn't hang out in person. Which was kind of nice. I didn't have to worry about whether I would be happy or if the plans would be fun. I was able to just sit. But I did spend more time with my best friend. I love her so much. She makes me feel safe. I know nothing bad will happen to me when I'm with her. But I'm scared I am becoming too much for her. I'm scared I'm putting too much pressure onto her. She makes me so happy and less like I want to die, but I am still scared to ask for help. I think I'm still scared to ask for help because when I have asked for help in the past it has been met with distaste or professional help. Which I understand that professional help was/is what I need. But what do I do on the weekends and weekdays I don't see my therapist? This is why I wanted to spend time by myself. I do not know how to enjoy my own company anymore. I hope tomorrow I am able to spend some time by myself because I NEED to do laundry and take trash out of my room. I wish I saved my podcasts so that I could listen to them tomorrow. I think there are def some I haven't listened to. Writing in a diary helped. I think I need to spend at least one day a week by myself. I want to do things for myself. I think writing in this diary on my laptop was helpful because it felt very professional. I feel more like doing homework now! Toodeloo!

[likeapray3r]

I’m listening to this lesbian couples podcast (they’re married so it’s like … they’re Mother(s) in a way) and one of them is describing how when they first started to get to know each other one of them was living with an ex… and the other had to place a boundary that that wasn’t working for her and wouldn’t work for her at all moving forward and was very no bullshit about it… and then the other one just listened … and made the effort to make that change in order to keep this person in their life… who they ended up marrying. And it really made me think… I spent months and months explaining how torturous and awful a similar situation was for me, and how I couldn’t do it long term, and I was even met with false promises of deadlines of when this person would start looking for a new place to live and so on and do forth, yet they never did… and I stayed… and kept rattling off the same nonsense about how I couldn’t keep doing it anymore blah blah blah (after months it had already eaten away at my self worth to the point I was nowhere near the person I was at the beginning of the reconnection) and I was honestly just shut down, forced to hear about how there was “nothing to worry about” (as if how they feel is the only thing that matters in the equation) and I just took it and took it until I imploded. I changed my entire life for someone who couldn’t change even an inch of their life to make me feel more comfortable and more safe. I didn’t have the self importance for myself to even stand strong in my boundary and say “I cannot continue to do this under these conditions because I respect myself” I just couldn’t muster any of it. The last 2 months were the worst, I couldn’t talk about it at all because it would throw this person into a fit of rage and instantly shut me down and deny validity in my feelings every single time. It got so bad I even resorted talking to a past person about what was happening (I never sought them out they just messaged me on a day where I was extremely vulnerable and needed someone to talk to about how hurt and confused I was about everything going on) and when that antidote came out to this person I was with at the time they were also angry at me for communicating with someone they had already told me I wasn’t allowed to talk to. By this time, I had absolutely zero residual feelings for this random person who popped up to talk to me, and it had even been YEARS that I haven’t felt anything other than a passersby friendship with this person at that. It was like their ego was hurt that I talked to someone who they thought they had control over me talking with after they had been dragging me through hell and back for their own enjoyment and pleasure and self indulgent peace. And the funny thing is: I talked good about her. I said I love her, and I’ll keep sticking it out as hard as I could. I said I was hurt by everything, and it wasn’t feeling ok. I said I wanted a long lasting life with this person, that I wanted to marry them one day. I still was so hopeful. But I was hurt and I was stifling my hurt in order to fit into this persons life, who honestly couldn’t care less about me even if they tried, and I made myself so foolish for them. I didn’t have any boundaries with them. They thought they could do anything to me. They liked knowing they could get away with anything and do anything to me and I’d still stay. Even though I was collapsing inside, my soul was dying. It just made me think that the right person would absolutely do anything for the person they love, and they won’t make it so painful. They won’t make excuses, and they won’t take your words as something light, and if they do, then they’re not the one. I had been fighting for someone who wasn’t the one for far too long. It’s pain and relief in the knowing, but I’m glad there are other people out there who’ve experienced the positive outcome there could be in a situation like that. I know my person would never even consider putting me in a torture chamber of a life cycle as that person did to me. My person could never do that.

[synthetic-psychedelic]

Wake Up Asks

1. What time do you usually wake up if you don't set an alarm?

2. What is your first thought when you wake?

3. Do you check your phone right away?

4. Are you a morning or a night person?

Mid Day Asks

5. At what time of the day do you feel most productive?

6. Morning, Mid day or Night Sex?

7. Do you have any daily routines?

8. What is your favorite and least favorite days of the week?

Night Time Asks

9. What do you usually wear to bed?

10. What side of the bed do you sleep on?

11. Are you a Stomach, Back or Side sleeper?

12. Do you have any pre bed routines?

1. I’m not gonna lie if I don’t set an alarm I’m not rising till earliest 11 am. Latest usually 1 pm. I don’t usually sleep well so fall asleep at like 4 am if I have nothing to do but the next day.

2. What is your first thought when you wake up?

Usually I’m thinking of how comfy I am and how I don’t want to move. Or genuinely first thought is ugh 😅

3. Usually yes because I’m switching an alarm off but even on my days off it’s my first instinct. Plus I genuinely can’t get out of bed without music so I usually put Spotify on first thing.

4. Night person for sure, deffo not a morning person don’t talk to me before 10 am

5. Usually between 1pm-7pm on a usual day if I’m in work just 9-5 and then all motivation leaves me when I clock off 😅

6. Honestly couldn’t bother me as long as it’s not scheduled or routine I like spontaneity.

7. I usually wake up, play music, do my skin care, stretch, have a hot drink, go on a walk, come home and tidy my space and then I don’t plan anything else for my day. I have night routines too but that’s just skin care and reading or journaling and of course more music.

8. My fave day of the week is usually Thursday just because I have Ariel hoop on that day and I look forward to it all week. I don’t really have a least fave day. Maybe Sunday I think it’s the most boring of them all 😅

9. Baggy tshirt and bike shorts or I have like a lot (too many) on sets too they all vary some are shorts some are pants some are fancy some are scruffy as hell 😅🫣

10. I usually lie on the right side of my bed because my beds pushed into the corner and I love laying next to a wall I always have I don’t know why. Maybe cos when I’m to hot I’ll put my arms or legs against the wall and the walls usually cool maybe it’s cos it makes me feel boxed in and that makes me feel secure and safe Idek

11. I’m a side sleeper, I wish I could be a back sleeper but I hate it 😅

12. Oops kinda answered this but I have a nightly skincare routine which I usually do watching friends or new girl and then I usually journal or read, then I listen to music or a podcast whilst I drift off.

So sorry this took so long but this was a lot of questions. I had so much fun answering them tho thank you!

[xtrablak674]

"How do you feel about the visit so far?"

Good morning Ms. Stone, that is an excellent question. There was a high level of frustration and anxiety leading into this visit as you know. I have witnessed first hand what the issue is, young Ms. Gentle is trying to please everyone, including her boyfriend and not really asserting her own power and her own needs. (Which is so curious because she doesn't even see it even as we listened to that podcast on Invisibilia about the P word "power")

I feel our communication is much better in person as I knew it would be, this is something that is usually the same across most human beings I've learned that as a project manager. I think we've been very present together and she has been doing this thing of taking her phone calls on speaker in the same room with me. For some reason this feels intentional.

I noticed because on I think her first day she went into the next room to take a call and I don't think it was on speaker. And I am not even putting forth the pretension that I haven't listened in, especially the one with her boyfriend which I was a bit disturbed by he seem to be very overbearing, controlling and is surprised she was able to manage this trip without him.

As the elder, places where I see her wandering off track I have corrected her like being firm with her about the need to wash her very aromatic clothing. Or riding her on the fact that she has been doing nothing but making excuses why she can't find some time to exercise when she's back in Florida. She has lost 7 pounds since she's been here and from day one has really progressed in her walking, every day she does more steps than the last I think 22k was the last reported number.

But you asked how I feel, I feel an assortment of things, sad that our time will be coming to an end, excited that it did happen. Nostalgic because its been a minute since I had to play Uncle, challenged because I am used to guiding young children, not twenty-somethings, their needs are very different. I feel happy, as elusive as that word has been in my life. I also feel exhausted keeping someone busy who is literally half your age makes you feel your body a lot more. Is nurturing a feeling, or whatever the act of nurturing is. I have felt that. I am also worried about how she's navigating the world afraid to take up space and not demand what is hers. I see so much potential for her to be a bad bitch, but then she inhibits herself, even with me. I feel proud I encouraged her independence in getting around the city on her own, and she leaned into and succeeded. I feel like it was a very good trip and I think she might actually come back.

I feel like I did a good job of transitioning a bad experience to a good one and creating a safe space for her to get out of her comfort zone and try to be more in touch with herself and her own needs. This is how I feel.

[Photo by Brown Estate]

#family #black #queer #adulting #familial obligations #teaching momements #miscommunication #conversation

[thetravellingvagrant]

Day 3 - In Which I Have a Nice Time

It was safe to say that yesterday's exploits had left me more fucked than France on a penalty shoot-out (Topical humour. Wayy. Lads.).  I less awoke and more chundered horribly back into existence this morning; my neck, back, legs and head all thumping from the previous day's piss poor choices and even piss poorer service from Flixbus. Peeling myself off of the - admittedly quite comfy - mattress didn't help matters. I could barely move my arms and turning my head to the side, even slightly, seemed like an impossibility on par with France winning the world cup for the second time, back to back (Weyyyy. Lads on tour.)

"I might take it easy today" I thought, like a coward. A handsome coward.

After a breakfast of a selection of those Kinder things you have to keep in the fridge - I'm not a proud man - and my second big sleep of the day, however, the crunchy haze of nebulous joint pain had subsided enough for me to renege on my earlier cravenness and, bravely, like the battle hardened, war scarred soldier I am, I bundled up nice and warm and went for a short walk in pleasant weather.

As it turned out, bundling up nice and warm was a foolish move. So used to the blistering cold of Sweden and the sopping wet mist of Northern Italy was I, that I hadn't considered that I may be stepping out of the door, today, into honest to god, genuine sunshine.

This is 25 degrees hotter than I was four days ago. Help. I am not built for this.

Embarrassingly over-insulated, I removed my scarf, shoved it into one of the woefully inadequate pockets on offer from my big winter coat - designed for mountain-wear, no less - and resigned myself to being a bit sweaty today. It would be a novelty after the last week, at the very least.

I had decided to follow Violet's recommendations and have a little wander around old town, before meandering home through a nice park. (Though if I’m being totally honest, these are exactly the things I would have done if left to my own devices, too, so…thanks for nothing, I guess, Violet?)

The walk to Old Town was a bit of a trek, but not an unpleasant one. Nice, begrudgingly lives up to it's name and is undeniably quite a pleasant place to exist, boasting, as it does, that sorta of lovely, laid back feeling of most Mediterranean seaside towns with almost none of the animal corpses or head-hight piles of garbage littering every street corner that it's counterparts always seem to possess. I’m looking at you, Palermo. Or I would be, if I could see through the mountain of refuse that has become your city wall.

Old town was comparably pleasant, despite the lovely looking gardenny bit I wanted to visit being transformed for the festive season into a shitty looking funfair with an extortionately high entrance fee and *armed policemen* guarding it's gates. 

I just want to see some fucking flowers...

Normally, it must be said, being around men with assault rifles, especially the police, would make me quite nervous, despite my obvious whiteness. In this instance, however, I was placated in the knowledge that even if they were to take aim at me, being French, they would almost certainly miss, if their accuracy during penalty shootouts were anything to go by. (Bam. Three times the Lad. In football, I'm reliably informed this is called a hat trick)

I ambled further towards the seafront, stopping in a souvenir shop and startling myself by managing to pull off the entire transaction with the cashier en français. Apparently my subconscious had absorbed more of the language than I had realised, during my high school days. Ms. Tully would be proud - if she hadn't gone mental and just walked into the sea and never come back, all those years ago.

I pushed on to the seafront proper, which was - I'll be honest - pretty lovely. 

That that, Scottish people.

I decided to enjoy the novelty of being on a warm beach in the middle of December for a while and thus, had a nice sit down and listened to a good podcast. I am aware this doesn't translate well to scintillating prose, but my body was fucked and it was very relaxing, so you can eff off, quite frankly.

After my very lovely sit down which I enjoyed more than the company of most people in my life, I moved on the the park, as recommended by Violet, as it wasn't far from the beach. It was, however, up a massive big fucking hill and somewhere close - I estimated - to probably like…a million steps or something. Give or take a few hundred thousand.

Groaning, and being unsure if the noise was coming from my mouth or my joints, I relented - taking it easy, after all, is for big ugly pussies and I was nothing if not brave and handsome - and began to climb.

It was a difficult ascent, given that I was, at this point, a mangled, pulped mess of sinew and disdain, though I was rewarded at the summit by some really quite remarkable views

I mean I guess it's okay.

I farted around at the top of the park taking photos and having a ruddy nice time for a good while, before the sun began to dip and my stomach began to rumble. Not quite done, but factors, both external and internal forcing my hand, I begrudgingly descended - in much the same was France presumably have in the Fifa Men's World Rankings. (Honestly, I think I might give up my career as a foreshadowist and take up being a Lad-Smith instead. Easy money, innit.)

I trudged back to my apartment, my feet and shoulders beginning to creak and scream again, stopping briefly at a big supermarket which annoyingly, while an intensely unpleasant experience, wasn't so much so as to be blogworthy. There's nothing worse than having a shit time that's also boring. Think that's a Churchill quote. Back home, I created with my hands and demolished with my mouth, far too much food for the second day in a row - this time with a slight shred of shame - and resigned myself to spending the rest of the evening working on Christmas presents and eating a big lemon pie. Admittedly I did miss this bit a little.

#travelling #vagrant #nice #france #travel #photography #city photography #travel photography #grumpy #big hill #seaside