#i have spent the past several weeks becoming increasingly upset about this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shadowmayura · 3 years

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I didn’t think I’d be doing this, but it’s gotten to the point where some things have to be said.

Someone from my past has been making vagueposts about me lately and I can’t allow it to go unaddressed any longer. They are disingenuous and at times downright false, and they imply a certain type of relationship that simply did not exist.

If at this point you don’t know exactly who and what I’m talking about, please scroll by. I’m not going to be mentioning her by name and I’m not here to drag additional people into this big mess. This is solely to address any misconceptions for those who have already seen this person’s posts and are left confused by the strange phrasing and missing information.

(TW: harassment, emotional abuse, stalking, vomit)

This person and I met online in the spring of last year. Soon after, she confessed to me that she had a crush on me. I wasn’t interested for a variety of reasons (distance, not knowing her very well, and a lack of attraction on my end) and I gently let her down but suggested that we could still be friends. At no point did I promise a romantic relationship with this person.

We got to know each other better as friends. For a while, it was genuinely fun. I did not harbor any romantic feelings but I did enjoy being her friend. But in the summer, we began to spend more time together, and that’s where it started to go wrong. In reality, it was gradual, but it felt very sudden because the realization that things had changed came all at once. Her flirting had become a lot more aggressive and she was implying to other people that there was something between us. Playful teasing had turned to something far more demanding, and we were talking to each other nonstop, up to 10 hours per day every single day. When I realized how drastically our interactions had changed, I tried to pull back. I became very uncomfortable with how much couple-like behavior had emerged on her side when I did not want to be in that kind of relationship.

My decision was met with a lot of resistance. She was upset at me that I wanted to cut back on the amount of one-on-one time spent together, and she also was upset when I took a week-long break from Discord as a whole. We had our first argument over this. I thought we reached an understanding, but at the end of the conversion, she expressed her need for significant quality time between us, leaving me feeling like I hadn’t been heard at all. It’s worth noting that I hadn’t cut her out entirely at this point. We were still talking almost every day, but we weren’t on voice chat for hours on end any longer. I just wanted interactions that were closer to a normal friendship rather than a romantic relationship that I had never consented to.

It got worse leading into fall. The flirting continued and escalated. She drew “friendship portraits” of the two of us with strong romantic undertones. As she continued to push, I drew back. She didn’t like this. I was met with passive aggression when I tried to set boundaries and put a comfortable distance between us.

September is where it reached a head. On September 17th, she coerced me into a video chat that essentially served as an intervention for my choice. I had a bad feeling going into it, but she insisted that we video chat rather than text chat. I reluctantly agreed under her false pretense that it would be a conversation solely about fandom matters, but within 5 minutes, she was crying on video. I became very uncomfortable and I continued to look at a document on my computer so she could compose herself. She calmed down, but as soon as I claimed to be done looking at it, she turned the crying on again.

For about an hour, I was berated. She was crying and yelling, not allowing me to get a word in edgewise. She was, once again, very upset with me that I had been pulling away from her. I desperately wanted to leave the call, but I knew that there’d be hell to pay later if I did. I forced myself to sit through the whole thing. When she was done, I was shaking. She expected me to speak but I was unable to form words for several minutes and I was additionally berated for not saying anything, even though I had already been cut off many times. When I was able to pull myself out of the state I was in, I told her that our interactions had become far too romantically-focused for my comfort and that I didn’t want her to flirt with me anymore. I then ended the conversation as quickly as I could.

I vomited several times after we hung up and was shaking for hours. I couldn’t sleep that night. A few days later, I lost clumps of hair. It is stress-induced alopecia areata that I’m still receiving treatment for. I don’t say any of this to garner sympathy, but I want to emphasize that this was not a conversation that I look back on fondly. It was traumatic. This unfortunately is relevant later.

At this point, it is safe to say that I did not want to associate with this person any longer, but this was not an option for me. There were fandom commitments that tethered us together, and I knew I’d have to weather out the storm. If I didn’t, I would tear friend groups apart, drop commitments that I cared a lot about, and potentially ruin both of our reputations in the community.

I tried to maintain some distance without angering her significantly, but it was all downhill from here. She continued to disrespect my boundaries and push me romantically. Flirting occurred less commonly in private chats since I would shut it down, but in public spaces, she continued to flirt with me, and I felt pressured to allow it in order to avoid awkwardness in group settings.

Her romantic interest turned into obsession. She became fixated on my Tumblr posts and Discord statuses, accusing me of referencing her when this was seldom the case. Jealousy arose about my friendships with other people. She didn’t trust me to make my own decisions with my friendships and disrespected my decisions when I made them. There was also a huge increase in emotional manipulation and guiltbaiting. Whenever calm and rational criticism of her behavior was given to her, she would exaggerate and call herself a terrible person so that the criticism would be dropped in favor of coddling and comforting her. It was impossible to bring up serious issues without her playing the victim.

She also became increasingly hard to deal with in a team environment. I often felt as if I was being disciplined for not loving her in return. My ideas were constantly nitpicked and shot down. I was condescended to. I began to feel unwelcome in group spaces because of these behaviors. I felt like she was pushing me out of public spaces in hopes that I would flee to private ones, though I tried to avoid that as much as possible.

In November, a flip switched. The romantic harassment almost entirely vanished and all her interactions with me became unkind. In some ways, it was refreshing because the worst of the stalking subsided, but the hostile environment was not easy to deal with. I retreated from fandom in order to avoid it as much as possible.

Finally in December, my fandom commitments finally ended, giving me the ability to end my friendship with her. Right before this, she spoke negatively of me in some public ways. One of these actions I cannot name here because it would reveal her identity, but it spoke ill of a community that I oversee.

The worst, however, was a fanfic that she published several days before I cut her off. She projected her and I onto the main couple of the fic. I was cast as Gabriel and she was cast as Nathalie. The further I read, the more sickened I became as the references became more overt.

Near the end of the fic, Gabriel and Nathalie have a huge argument. I was shocked to find exact quotes from our September 17th video chat in the dialogue of the fic. They were large sections of our conversation. At the end of their argument, Gabriel admitted all wrong and they make amends. As a couple.

I felt ill reading this. I still feel ill thinking about it. I hate that one of the most traumatic conversations in my life still exists on the internet for anyone to read, twisted into a scene that is meant to be read as good and romantic. I am reminded of all the harassment that I endured and I hate that that is a feeling I now associate with one of my favorite ships. There are other creators involved as well whose work has now been tainted by these real-world associations that had no business being in a fanfic.

After this, I cut her out of my life entirely. I was considering less drastic options, but this was the last straw that I knew we could not come back from. I removed her from several of my social circles and blocked her on all social media.

Before I blocked her, I sent a letter explaining in explicit detail why I would be cutting her out of my life. Despite this, she has recently claimed that she was never given a reason.

And that’s where we are now. My life has been more peaceful since December and I have begun to come out of my shell. For a couple of months she left the situation alone and that was fine with me. I was happy to peacefully coexist as long as I wasn’t having to interact directly.

However, my friends began calling my attention to recent posts on her blog that implied I had destroyed her mental health. Some of them have since been deleted. While I was willing to let the first one slide, these posts have increased in frequency while pushing an increasingly false narrative. I don’t enjoy the implications that I did something horrible to her by not consenting to a relationship.

I’m sure she will disagree with my take on things, and that’s fine. If she disagrees with my reasons with cutting her off, that is her prerogative, but I cannot allow her to claim that I didn’t give any reasoning when she did receive it through multiple channels of communication.

And I hope I haven’t gone a step too far in revealing that this person was in love with me. I debated not including it, but I’ve realized it’s an unavoidable issue that is central to the entire situation. At the root of it, I was romantically pursued and harassed. I cannot defend my reasons for cutting her off without disclosing the base motivation for the majority of her actions.

So that’s my story. I’d ask those who read this to please refrain from engaging in any harassment. This post has not been made with the intention to hurt her, as can be evidenced from months of me holding my tongue. I really did try to let her preserve her dignity, but I was left with no other options after being smeared multiple times. My purpose here is transparency.

I genuinely do wish her well, for both our sakes. I really hope that this will finally end her obsession and allow her to move on. But whatever happens, I refuse to be a doormat any longer in this situation.

#life of a corn #non ml #kinda #summary of the last 10 months of my life

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pi-cat000 · 4 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 39)

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, Vivi POV, 8, 9, 10, Lewis POV, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, Lance POV 18, 19, Lewis POV 2, 21 , 22, Vivi POV 2, 24, 25 Lewis POV 3, Mystery POV , Vivi POV 3, 29, Lewis POV 4, 31, ViVi POV 4 , 33, 34, Lewis POV 5, Mystery POV 2, Lewis POV 6, Vivi POV 5

Part 40: here

...

LEWIS POV

Lewis comes to welcome the dark interludes which provide a brief reprieve from the parade of fake-Arthur-memories. The cold, empty silence is preferable to the increasingly dour scenes depicting the day-to-day struggles of fake-Arthur and fake-Vivi as they fail at dealing with fake-Lewis’s death. Not that either of them know about his death. Arthur doesn’t remember the cliff or the body snatcher, thinking fake-Lewis is alive and lost somewhere. Vivi doesn’t remember him at all. He’s been erased completely from her mind, leaving her confused and Arthur distraught. Lewis has no idea how long he’s spent watching them struggle. The scenes come and go at varying lengths and changing levels of detail. He must have lived through several weeks’ worth of fake-memories now. Months of Arthur’s life flit by, broken up into chunks.

...

A conversation with Vivi, trying and failing to convince her that the other-Lewis had existed at all.

“Lewis…you know, Lewis. Please remember.”

“I’m sorry, I blanked out for a second there…what were you saying?”

“Nothing. It’s nothing…”

“Oh shit…I was...how long was I out for this time?”

“An hour...You were gone for an hour.”

“I’m sorry Arthur.”

“Don’t worry about it. Was my fault…Mentioned something I shouldn’t have.”

Fights with Lance when the older man attempts to intervene and stop Arthur’s increasingly destructive behaviour.

“This behaviour isn’t healthy.”

“What am I supposed to do!”

“Maybe, stop and actually think about this…”

“Lewis is out there somewhere, and you want me to just give up!”

Hours spend online and in police stations trying to convince people to look for the other-Lewis.

“Kid. You’re friend is listed as missing. We have alerts out in the neighbouring states and so far there’s been no word. Search parties, caving experts, were combing those old mine shafts for six days after you came in. There was nothing there.”

“Something happened there...something bad...if you would just...”

“The cave is just a regular cave. Those old mines are old mines. Nothing weird or spooky about them, just very easy to get lost in. There’s nothing more to be done so go home, eat a hot meal, get some sleep. If your friend shows up you’ll be one of the first to know. ”

...

It’s like watching a highlight real, only nothing about these memories is a highlight. He’s almost sure the fake-memories are selected and purposefully skewed towards negative experiences. Surely, even if this were real-it’s not real, it can’t be real-Arthur’s life wouldn’t be this bad without Lewis there.

When the darkness falls away, transitioning into another memory, Lewis wants to yell out in frustration.

…

Lewis’s eyes open of their own accord and he’s looking out at the world, experiencing life from his friend’s perspective.

…

This memory starts with Arthur staring as a door handle, hesitating to pull it open. Lewis recognises it of course, he’s seen this door serval times, scattered in amongst the most recent lot of fake-memories. It’s the door to Vivi and Arthur’s apartment in Milton, faded green in colour and rusted around the hinges.

Arthur lets out a long breath which tranistions into a yawn, fiddling around with a set of keys with his one, good arm. Lewis tries not to worry when his friend drops the keys to the ground, hand slightly shakier than usual. Arthur probably hasn’t been sleeping properly. Not-sleeping is a running theme for this fake-memory-Arthur.

When the door does finally swing open, it is to reveal an irate Vivi. She is blocking the flat’s narrow entryway, her hands on her hips, expression creased into a scowl.

“In what universe does ‘I’ll be back early’ mean 11:30 pm?”

Arthur winces. Lewis can’t see his expression but his friend is probably grimacing. Most memories that feature both Vivi and Arthur involved an argument of some sort. Another form of torture for him no doubt. Seeing them struggle to come to terms with his disappearance was always a painful viewing experience. Lewis braces himself for some sort of emotionally charged argument, wishing he had the power to intervein. These fake-memories are some of the hardest to sit through.

“A lot of the guys in the lab work late hours.”

Vivi looks unimpressed, “And I suppose they’re all recovering from a recent amputation as well are they?”

“It’s been four months …It’s healed plenty.”

Lewis feels the echo sensation of pain as Arthur drops his bag to the floor, freeing up his remaining arm. Arthur lying to Vivi about his wellbeing is another common theme in these fake-memories. Vivi knows it too, Lewis can already see the tension in her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” Arthur tries to reassure, skirting around Vivi, avoiding eye contact. “The prototype for the new arm is almost done, we’re just waiting on the guys in programming to double-check some of the coding….”

“This new arm isn’t going to be worth much if you’re too exhausted to do anything with it.” Vivi interrupts angrily, following Arthur as he slinks past the small kitchen towards bedrooms at the back of the apartment.

Lewis feels her grabs the back of Arthur’s shirts, pulling the other up short.

“I said I’m fin….wait.”

Vivi drags Arthur to the narrow kitchen bench just big enough to fit two bar-chairs, ignoring his objections.

“Sit.” She orders, stopping over to the frig, pulling out a bowl and thrusting it into the microwave. The hum of the microwave makes the following quiet twice as uncomfortable. Even Lewis feels it.

Arthur clears his throat to speak and is cut off when the microwave lets off a loud ping.

Vivi all but slams the streaming bowl down in front of Arthur.

“You really don’t have to…” Arthur tries.

“Oh yeah? What did you eat for dinner?”

Silence.

“Lunch?”

“…”

“Because I only know you ate breakfast because I was there for it.”

More silence hangs between them.

“Eat.” She instructs and glares until Arthur picks up the spoon. Lewis can feel Arthur shift in awkward discomfort as he starts eating. After living through so many of these fake-memories, Lewis is becoming an Arthur body language expert.

“How was work?” Arthur breaks the silence, glancing at Vivi. She is sitting with her arms crossed, still upset, still annoyed. Lewis can read the worry fuelling her frustration clear as day.

Her expression clears as she deliberately puts the issue of Arthur arriving late to one side, “Work was good. Duet is a real character but they’re nice and super knowledgeable when it comes to the occult and other supernatural stuff. They’re helping me research memory-related curses and whatnot. The first person, apart from you, who doesn’t think I’m crazy. So that’s a plus.”

“When my arm is fixed, we can hit the road and follow up on any leads you hear,” Arthur murmurs between mouthfuls and Lewis wishes he could face-palm because that is the exact wrong thing to say. Not for the first time, Lewis longs to be physically present so he can smooth over the sudden tension which spikes in the room. “Or we could go before that…I mean…I don’t really need two arms.”

“It’s not urgent or anything,” Vivi responds with the forced cheer of someone holding back on speaking their mind. “I bleary notice that the memories are gone most days. Your arm is more important.”

“Don’t say that,” Arthur stops eating to frown.

“Don’t say what? That I’m fine postponing the search for my memories for however long it takes you to get better?”

“That’s not…what I mean is that your memories are important.”

Vivi’s expression hardens, becoming terse, “Not more important than your health.”

Arthur tenses.

“My missing memories can wait,” She insists. “I’ve been doing fine without them. Especially now we live here and not in Tempo. I haven’t had a blackout since we moved.”

“It’s not just that…” Arthur retorts, frustrated.

“Then what.” Vivi snaps, almost yelling now, “Do you hear yourself speak? ‘I don’t really need two arms,’…are you kidding me! What could possibly be more important than your health.”

“You know I can’t tell you.”

Vivi lets out a long, frustrated breath, standing. “You promised, when we moved closer to the hospital labs, you promised that you’d make an effort to actually look after yourself.”

Arthur doesn’t respond as Vivi continues. “When your arm is finished. When you look like an actual person and not a zombie. When we don’t have to have this conversation every day. Then we’ll go searching.”

The bar stool squeaks on the floor as Vivi pushes it back, “I’m going to bed. I’ve got work early tomorrow. You should sleep as well…when you’ve finished.”

A long silence stretches between his two friends, all the heat gone from the argument. Lewis can’t see Vivi anymore, Arthur’s vision is now fixed on his spoon which is resting on the lip of the bowl.

“I would tell you everything…if I could…” Arthur doesn’t look up. His voice is strained.

Vivi pauses in the doorway. “I know.” She sounds tired. Lewis’s heart aches. “That doesn’t change anything.”

Arthur flinches.

A sigh and Vivi adds, “I better not find you awake in an hour because I’m going to set my alarm to check.”

“What?” Arthur finally looks up. “You can’t do that.”

“I can and will.”

“…but you just said you have work in the morning.”

“If you’re not gonna sleep then I’m not gonna sleep.”

“But….”

“Just the way it’s gotta be apparently,” Vivi finishes, strolling out of the room, leaving Arthur- and, through him, Lewis- to stare after her.

Arthur slumps, “God…damnit…” rubbing his eyes. There’s no anger to the word.

No matter how many times he’s seen Arthur and Vivi argue in the weeks and months following his counterpart’s death, it never got any easier. They were both too stubborn for their own good. Arthur’s got a quiet, methodical stubbornness about him while Vivi is loud and abrasive. Mix that with emotional stress and an obvious concern for one another and the result was a whole load of tension. Lewis knows Arthur has low self-esteem and tendency to beat himself up and blame himself for stuff that definitely wasn’t his fault, but he’s never seen him this bad. It never seemed like that big a deal when both him and Vivi had been around to help. Vivi too, he’s never see her so stressed and angry at seemingly everything. Or maybe Lewis doesn’t know Vivi or Arthur as well as he thought he did.

There is movement in the corner of the room and Lewis notices Mystery for the first time. The not-a-dog had been lying in the corner.

“What.”

Mystery just cocks his head to the side.

“I know you can understand me,” Arthur mutters, shifting with discomfort. Mystery doesn’t speak or do much of anything, trotting out of the room after Vivi. Not too surprising. Another trend in these illusions was that Mystery tended to just sit and watch.

Sometimes, Lewis wonders if he just imagined the whole ‘giant fox’ thing. His memories for the car park confrontation are fuzzy, he’d been in a lot of pain at the time and probably suffering a bit of blood loss. He’s lived through so many of these memories that the real would seams so far away. Then he remembers those shinning teeth biting into him, and very real physical pain. That was real.

The real world was still out there.

None of these memories were real. He had almost forgotten.

“I’m not crazy,” Arthur murmurs, eyeing the dog uneasily before turning back to finish what’s left in his bowl. Lewis can’t read Arthur’s thoughts, but he suspects that his friend might be having similar doubts about Mystery’s true identity as well.

“I’ll find you, Lewis…”

For a second, Lewis thinks Arthur is addressing him directly before remembering that that’s impossible. This fake-memory-Arthur is addressing the ghost of a best friend he doesn’t know is dead. Lewis is only a passenger, watching life through Arthur’s eyes, invisible and stranded.

“I’ll find you …no matter what it takes. I’ll find you. And everything will go back to normal…”

…

The memory fades, darkening and Lewis is once again back in the dark.

...

“DAMNIT!”

He slams both fists into the ground, watching the darkness ripple under the impact. His yell doesn’t echo, swallowed by the nothing.

“Damnit…DAMNIT…DAMN IT ALL!”

Feelings of frustration and anger smother his hurt and sorrow. He growls, smashing his fist into the ground again. If this were the real world, he’d have to worry about bruising his knuckles or breaking his fingers. The void offers little in the way of resistance.

“I GET IT, ALL RIGHT! They’re miserable…they’re struggling…I get the point!”

Nothing responds to his shouting. He’s alone. He shouts again, screaming into the void. He’s stopped questioning the motive behind what he was seeing long ago. They were illusions masquerading as his friend’s memories. Designed to hurt him as much as you can hurt a person without touching them.

“Just stop already!” He rages. Nothing responds.

Fury, white-hot, is better than the creeping sadness threatening to drown him. Sure, being angry about things had never worked well for him in the past. He’d been a very angry child and it was only thanks to his adopted patents and then Vivi and Arthur that he’d put the unpleasant emotion behind him.

None of that mattered here. Here, in the dark, the anger is his only defence against the green bastard’s torture.

Lewis regrets not punching the asshole when he had the chance. He wishes he’d done a lot of things differently. Lewis continues yelling right up until the dark once again fades into another memory.

NOTE: Resurrecting this fic in anticipation for a possible new video maybe? One can only dream. Sorry if it reads slightly different, i’m a bit rusty.

Part 40: here

#MSA #mystery skulls animated #arthur kingsmen #Lewis pepper #angst #despression #interpersonal conflict #coarse language #HEAVY ANGST #lewis has a bad time #getting stuck watching anther person's memories? is there even a tag for this?#fanfic

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bnha-imagines-all-around · 4 years

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Bright Future (Mirio Togata Headcanons)

Warnings: Fluff, pining, wholesome content

Request: “Hey there lovely! You’re doing an amazing job, keep kicking butt! Could I please request headcanons with Mirio? Basically the reader and him are bffs & the reader has a huge crush on him (he doesn’t know) and they have their work study together. Sir Nighteye accidentally uses his quirk on the reader & he sees that she’ll marry Mirio & they’ll have a son together & are pro heroes? Then Sir tells the reader what he saw and fluff ensues btw her and Mirio? thank you!!! ❤️ “

Author’s Note: I LOVED THIS REQUEST SO MUCH. It might be kinda long (sorry), and again probably reads like an imagine (I’m bad at headcanons), I got carried away cause I loved it so much. (On another note, I’m BAAAAACK, and boy have I missed writing. I’m gonna try my best to punch out the requests I have waiting so I can reopen my request box :D)

- You and Mirio have been BFFs since you two pretty much met, y’all just get along so well and it feels so natural to be around one another all the time.

- Like seriously, you two were always together, giggling at jokes and talking about literally everything and anything. You did everything together, which was enabled by the fact that you and Mirio were in the same class and sat near each other.

- You could not get Mirio Togata alone, nor (Y/N) (Y/L/N) alone, if your life depended on it because where one went, so did the other.

- Nejire and Tamaki had long since accepted you into their friend group; you were the secret fourth member of “The Big Three” (although it really wasn’t a secret because you were always around them and everybody knew about it).

- Almost as if expected, you eventually realized that the butterflies you felt in your stomach every time Mirio looked at you, hugged you, smiled at you or laughed at your joke weren’t a normal occurrence, nor were your longing thoughts of being in his embrace or your daydreams of how kissing him would feel and how badly you wanted it.

- Then, suddenly, it hit you like a bus; you had a MASSIVE crush on your best friend, your partner in pretty much everything in life, Mirio Togata.

- You were apparently the last one to notice your own feelings, because Nejire just exclaimed “Finally!” and Tamaki gave you a small knowing smile when you divulged the true nature of your feelings for the personified ball of sunshine that was your best friend to them.

- However, you couldn’t really bring yourself to say anything to Mirio just yet, so you decided to just act as if nothing had changed between yourself and Mirio, burying your feelings far, far down deep inside yourself and continuing just being best of friends that were joined at the hip.

- You two were so joined at the hip that you both ended up doing your work studies at the same Hero Agency, that of Sir Nighteye.

- While Mirio excelled at his work study and grew stronger and became a better hero, you felt as though you were several steps behind him at all times. You felt frustrated and kept trying to train and work hard to improve but it felt as though no matter what you did, you wouldn’t improve one bit.

- Plus, it didn’t help that you were intimidated and even slightly afraid of Sir Nighteye. He was so strict and could command a room like nobody’s business, you genuinely found yourself nervous and unable to meet his eye whenever he was in your proximity.

- As time went on, you were beginning to feel run down and exhausted of having to fake a smile every time Mirio told you of his progress or a vaguely positive comment Sir Nighteye had made about him during the work study.

- This exhaustion and pent-up frustration built and built and built until, one day, you couldn’t take it anymore.

- “You need to keep your focus, (Y/L/N). Even a single moment where you lose your focus and your opponent will gain the upper hand, and your fight will surely be lost,” Sir Nighteye reprimanded you as you once again got caught unawares during a training exercise.

- However, this time, instead of replying “Yes, Sir!” and hopping back up on your feet as you usually did, you simply got back up slowly and stared down at your feet while staying silent, your cheeks burning with shame and frustration with yourself.

- Obviously, Sir Nighteye immediately picked up on the change in your behaviour because what you didn’t know was that he had actually been carefully observing you over the weeks you’d spent at his agency.

- Sir Nighteye could tell that you were becoming more frustrated and upset as time went on, and he could tell very easily that he made you extremely nervous and that you were intimidated whenever he was around. However, he could also tell that you were training extremely hard, even more so than Mirio, and that your skill set was, in fact, greatly improving.

- Of course, Sir Nighteye also noticed how you were around Mirio and how you reacted to him. It was exceedingly obvious that you had feelings beyond friendship for the blonde young man, and Sir Nighteye couldn’t believe Mirio hadn’t realized it yet.

- “We will try one last exercise today, (Y/L/N). Your last exercise will be a sparring fight, except your opponent will be me,” Sir Nighteye stated, pushing his glasses up as he stood across from you.

- You felt your heart sink down through your stomach and land at your feet as Sir Nighteye said that, and your heart rate went through the roof. Sir Nighteye himself was testing you. That couldn’t possibly be a good thing, right?

- Sir Nighteye began to attack you, and you struggled to block each offensive move he made, but you tried to focus on him and predict his next move. ‘Focus, (Y/N)! Focus!’

- You were surprised to find yourself successfully defending yourself from Sir Nighteye’s attacks, but then you saw Sir Nighteye’s eyes change and you came to a startling realization; Sir Nighteye was now using his quirk on you to predict your next movements, upping the difficulty of your fight.

- And boy, the fight certainly got harder. You found yourself suddenly unable to block a single attack, and any attempts you made to be unpredictable failed miserably and you found yourself taking more and more hits.

- Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar mop of blonde hair appear; Mirio was watching your fight.

- Your heart leapt out of your chest and you glanced over at your best friend; Mirio was standing there with his arms crossed across his chest, his blue eyes studying you carefully. The familiar feeling of butterflies appeared in your stomach as you met his gaze for a brief moment.

- However, that moment was quickly over as you felt yourself become weightless, followed by you hitting the wall at full force; Sir Nighteye had taken your distracted moment to get you off guard and finish the fight.

- You let out a cry as you hit the wall and fell to the ground. The fight was over, and you had lost.

- Embarrassed and ashamed that you had lost the fight against Sir Nighteye, in front of Mirio no less, you simply laid motionless on the floor. You couldn’t bring yourself to get up and your exhaustion and frustration and pain took over your body completely.

- “(Y/N)!” You heard Mirio cry out, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or say anything to him. Your cheeks turned bright red with shame as you tried to move, but you couldn’t. Your eyes stung with bitter tears and you felt as though you were completely drained and just couldn’t do it anymore.

- “Come on, (Y/L/N), up on your feet now.”

- You were surprised to feel yourself being helped up to your feet, and even more surprised when you realized that the person who was helping you up wasn’t Mirio, but Sir Nighteye himself, and that he was speaking to you in a way that was stern but somehow also... kind.

- “Come with me to my office, (Y/L/N). I need to speak with you.” Sir Nighteye’s tone gave away nothing of whether this conversation was to be a good or bad one, which increased your anxiety tenfold.

- ‘Oh, no. Oh no, this is it. You’ve done it now, (Y/N), you’ve officially screwed up so bad that you’re losing your work study. You idiot. This is all your fault,’ You thought to yourself, and you could feel yourself trembling as Sir Nighteye helped you to his office. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Mirio either as you passed him and instead kept your head down to try and hide how afraid and ashamed you felt.

- Once you were in Sir Nighteye’s office, he gestured to you to take a seat at his desk, which you did, clasping your hands tightly together in your lap and you looked down at them, still shaking from the whole ordeal. You could feel your heart beating frantically in your chest, to the point where you felt nauseous from anxiety.

- Sir Nighteye sat behind his desk directly across from you, studying you carefully for a moment before beginning to speak.

- “(Y/L/N), it has become clear to me that you have been having difficulty with your training.” At this, you visibly winced, but you still said nothing. Sir Nighteye continued speaking, his voice quiet but solid, “However, I believe that you are unable to realize that you have been progressing and improving just as much as Mirio has, if not more.”

- That caught you by surprise, and you looked up at your mentor so quickly that you cricked your neck, “S-Sir?”

- “Yes, (Y/L/N). You see, I have been keeping a close eye on you just as much as I have been on Mirio, and your progress has not gone unnoticed. You are working exceptionally hard, yet you seem to be getting increasingly frustrated with yourself. Why is that?” Sir Nighteye asked, watching you carefully as you thought of your reply.

- You had to fight not to let yourself vomit out every feeling you’ve had over the past couple weeks, so you slowly spoke, “I... Well, Mirio has been working so hard and I feel like nothing I do compares to the progress he’s been making. No matter how hard I work or train, it feels like I’m not improving or getting stronger or smarter or better. I... I feel like I’m never going to be as good a hero as he is.”

- Sir Nighteye stayed quiet for a few moments, taking in what you had said before deciding on how to reply, “(Y/N)...” You glanced up at him, taken aback by the fact that your mentor was suddenly using your first name as he did with Mirio, but Sir Nighteye simply continued, “You cannot compare your progress to that of Mirio’s. You are not Mirio and Mirio is not you. I know that the two of you are best of friends, but you are not the same people. Your progress is different and will always be different from his. You have improved greatly, if not more so than Mirio in such a short period of time.”

- You couldn’t believe that the Sir Nighteye was actually giving you a pep talk. It felt surreal given that you came in expecting to be let go from the agency. “Sir, I-I don’t understand. I thought you were going to terminate my work study. Why did you ask me here to discuss this?”

- Sir Nighteye stood up from behind his desk, pushing up his glasses once again as he answered you, “Thank you for your amusing response, (Y/N). No, I am not terminating your work study. You needed encouragement, but I also need to discuss one other thing with you. You see, I know that you have feelings for Mirio that surpass friendship.”

- Your jaw just about hit the floor when you heard Sir Nighteye say that, and your whole face turned a violent shade of red as you began to stutter, but Sir Nighteye simply continued speaking, his tone not unkind, “It’s alright, (Y/N). There are no rules regarding those feelings here at my agency. But you mustn’t allow yourself to be led astray or be distracted by those feelings. As you saw today, even the slightest moment of distraction can be deadly, regardless of the cause of distraction.”

- You blushed again and looked down at your hands in your lap once again, faintly mumbling an apology or something vaguely resembling an apology, which caused Sir Nighteye to chuckle lightly, “No apologies are required, (Y/N). Just learn from this experience and strive to be better. I believe that you need to find a way to remove Mirio’s presence as a distraction in order to excel in becoming a Pro Hero.”

- Sir Nighteye fell silent for a moment, quietly contemplating for a moment before speaking once again, “Perhaps one way to get the distraction out of the way would be to tell Mirio how you feel.”

- Upon hearing that, you audibly choked on your own spit and had a coughing fit, causing Sir Nighteye to laugh quietly while you attempted to compose yourself.

- “I-I can’t just tell him, Sir, I-, how could I-? N-No, I mean, I-I don’t even know if he feels the same way!” You sputtered out, struggling to regain your composure and stop the colour from continuously rising to your face. There was no way you could tell Mirio how you felt. You didn’t want to lose the amazing friendship you had with him. You didn’t want to lose Mirio.

- At that, Sir Nighteye gave you a small smile before coming around to stand beside you, placing his hand on your shoulder, “Perhaps I ought to tell you, then. During our sparring match, as I am sure you realized, I made use of Foresight to increase the difficulty of the match and to test your abilities. However, I confess that I, too, got slightly distracted when you yourself became distracted by Mirio’s arrival. I lost control of Foresight and I accidentally jumped ahead and I saw a glimpse of your future.”

- You stared up at your mentor in disbelief, and you simply nodded, encouraging Sir Nighteye to continue telling you what he saw in your future. ‘There has to be a reason why he’d encourage you to tell Mirio that you have feelings for him, (Y/N). He must’ve seen something! But what did he see?’

- “You see, (Y/N), I witnessed a glimpse of you returning from what I assume was a mission. I am not sure how far into the future I saw, but what I know is that it seems as though you will become a very successful and amazing hero in your own right, alongside the man who will become your husband. In that glimpse of your future, you were returning home to your husband and your son. You were and will be happy and successful and loved. You’ve got a bright future ahead of you, (Y/N).”

- Your eyes widened at Sir Nighteye’s description of your future, and you felt a goofy little smile appearing on your face as you thought to yourself, ‘I’m going to become an amazing hero! And I’m going to have a family!’ However, you were missing one last piece of the puzzle.

- “Sir? B-By any chance, did you recognize the man in your vision?” You asked softly, trying very hard not to grin like a huge idiot in front of your mentor.

- Sir Nighteye just smiled down at you before walking over to the door of his office to allow to you leave. However, before he opened the door, Sir Nighteye turned back to look at you as you stood up, the smile still on his lips as he stated, “Yes, I did, and that man is waiting anxiously for you just outside my office.”

- With that, Sir Nighteye opened the door and allowed you to exit his office. You were stunned by the information he had given you and were struggling to understand it, as well as the realization that Sir Nighteye was seemingly a bit of a hopeless romantic himself, as you walked out.

- When the door closed behind you, the realization of what Sir Nighteye had meant by that hit you full in the face when you saw Mirio sitting on a bench down the corridor little ways off from Sir Nighteye’s office, clearly waiting for you.

- ‘O-Oh, my God. It was Mirio. Sir Nighteye saw Mirio. Mirio became my husband in his vision! That’s who he saw! Mirio likes you back, (Y/N)! That’s why Sir Nighteye recommended you tell him how you feel!’ The little voice in your head practically screamed with joy at the realization, and you found yourself smiling goofily to yourself. Today was turning out to be a better day than you originally anticipated.

- “(Y/N)! Are you alright?!” Mirio sprang to his feet and sprinted over to you when he realized you had come out of Sir Nighteye’s office. You felt as though you were floating on a cloud, and you had to restrain yourself from grabbing Mirio’s face and practically crashing your lips onto his, or just straight up screaming “Yeah I’m fine, Sir Nighteye just told me he saw us as a married Pro Hero couple in my future so yeah, I’m doing great!”.

- “H-Hey, yeah I-I’m alright. Just shaken from the fight, I guess,” You replied, your cheeks gaining a light dusting of pink as you chuckled slightly, “I’m sorry you had to see me get my butt kicked by our mentor.”

- Mirio just gave a small laugh at your comment before enveloping you in a big hug, squeezing you gently as he did so, “It’s alright, (Y/N). You sure put up a heck of a fight! I wish I were as good as you, even Sir looked impressed by your skills!”

- You just giggled as you returned the hug, burying your face into Mirio’s chest. “I’m not sure I agree with you there. Plus, no matter how impressed he was, Sir still did not hold back on the butt-kicking because I’m sore from head to toe!”

- At that, Mirio withdrew from the hug slightly so he could look down at your face. You felt your heart speeding up as Mirio gently brought his hand up to cup your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin before turning your face from side to side slowly. “Thankfully, it looks like you didn’t get injured. You scared me, you know? When you hit the wall and then fell and didn’t get up. I thought you got knocked out, and I wanted to make sure you were okay. I would’ve been there to help you up but Sir beat me to it.”

- You thought that you heard slight bitterness and regret in Mirio’s tone as he said that last sentence, so you just put your hand gently on top of his on your cheek, even daring to interlace your fingers with his as you smiled up at him, “He just wanted to give me a pep talk, surprisingly. Sir noticed that I was being super hard on myself, constantly comparing myself to you and wishing I could be half as good a hero as you are. I honestly thought Sir was gonna terminate my work study, but turns out he’s secretly a big softy and just wanted to encourage me.”

- Mirio’s eyebrows shot upwards in surprise as he looked down at you, “What do you mean, (Y/N)? Sir would be crazy to terminate your work study! I mean, I wish I were half as good a hero as YOU!” At that, Mirio suddenly looked down as his voice softened, “You’re kinda my inspiration, you know?”

- You could’ve sworn you saw Mirio’s cheeks turning pink, and you mustered up all the courage you had in you to stand up on your tippy toes and press a gentle kiss to his cheek, which resulted in a darker blush spreading across Mirio’s cheeks and a grin appearing on his face.

- “You’re my inspiration, too, Mirio. Now, how about I get cleaned up and we head back to UA? I think a movie night is in order to make up for me getting my butt kicked.”

- Mirio practically beamed at you as he nodded, and a couple moments of comfortable silence passed between you two as you both looked down to realize that you were still holding each other’s hand.

- “C-Can I keep holding your hand? As we head back?” Mirio asked, his voice suddenly quiet as he stuttered slightly, his cheeks once again turning red. You just smiled up at him as you gave his hand a slight squeeze, “I’d love that.”

- Mirio’s smile quickly returned and the two of you started to head back to UA, hand in hand and side by side as you both began to talk about your days, completely comfortable with this new development.

- Both of you felt that something had finally shifted between the two of you, that at last something more than friendship was happening, and neither you nor Mirio could’ve been happier.

- This was exactly what both of you had wanted, and at last, something was finally starting to happen, and it was all thanks to Sir Nighteye.

#bnha imagines #bnha x reader #Mirio Togata #mirio togata imagine #mirio togata x reader #mirio togata headcanons #mha #mha imagines #mha headcanons #mha x reader #lemillion imagine #lemillion x reader #lemillion

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purplesurveys · 3 years

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1063

survey by pinkchocolate

Have you done any of the same things as me this year? (2020 edition)

Planned a shopping spree with a friend?

Visited a shopping centre/mall? Malls are extremely commonplace here and honestly they already serve as the main tourist attractions if you find yourself in Manila, which is why Manila has never been a popular tourist destination itself (foreign tourists usually head to neighboring provinces, which is smart on their end). I’ve been to malls at least 20-30 times this year, but that’s only because of the pandemic. I probably go close to 50-70 times in a normal year.

Had lunch with a friend? Yeah I caught lunch with Angela a couple times at the start of the year. I had a one-photo-a-day gimmick on Instagram, and I’m pretty sure I have a photo of her in there during one of our lunch dates.

Ordered pizza at a restaurant? Again, at the start of the year. Gab and I loved Italian restaurants so we definitely ordered pizza several times.

Been in a department store? I needed to briefly enter one a couple of weeks ago to look for gift wrappers.

Bought pretty new lingerie?

Had coffee with a friend? Yeah Gab and I had study dates at coffee shops every single week. Now, obviously, I just take myself.

Bought DVDs?

Had a cold?

Bought toiletries as a gift for someone else?

Had dinner in a restaurant with your family? Yeah I’m fairly certain we did this at least a couple of times between January and early March. The last time I dined in anywhere was a month ago, but I was only with my parents and my siblings didn’t come along.

Had one of your kitchen appliances break? Our plumbing is a little fucked in general and sometimes we’ll have minor leaks on the floor. My dad’s knives have also gotten a bit dull, so I got him a new knife set for Christmas. But no damage to appliances.

Watched a movie at the cinema?

Struggled for food when the panic buying began? We struggled in that it was a bitch to enter the groceries at first. My dad did the grocieries for us during that time and that was back when they strictly enforced the number of people allowed in the supermarket at one time; and no matter how early he queued, there was always already a line that got there before him. He’d wait around three hours and once he was finally let in, a bunch of alleys or sections in the grocery would already be empty or at least close to becoming empty. We never went hungry or had to skip meals or anything like that, but I do remember having to make do with lesser-known brands we never used before because sometimes those would be the only options left at the grocery.

Wanted to hug a friend, but didn't because you had to social distance? I hugged Angela when I saw her a couple of days ago, and I also hugged Gab when we were still together.

Felt afraid of Covid? My fears over it have tamed over the year, to be honest; but I’m still wary, of course. I hate it when people stand near me and I follow the safety protocols everywhere I go.

Felt afraid to leave the house? Only during the peak of the virus, from March to around May or June. Nowadays I kinda have to go out every now and then for the sake of my sanity.

Deliberately avoided watching the news because it made you feel upset? I mean I took up journ lol so I always watch the news, no matter how upsetting it can get. The one and only time I remember asking my sister to switch the channel was when there was a report on animal abuse.

Had to cancel plans for your birthday? I didn’t have plans for it in the first place, or at least I didn’t have the chance to make them yet, so I’m glad there was nothing to cancel.

Spent your birthday at home? This was the only choice I had. My birthday fell on the most serious and strictest phase of the quarantine, and this was back when nothing was open yet.

Collected a parcel from your doorstep? Online shopping is a norm for me now, lol. I used to not trust it, but now I probably buy at least one item a week.

Eaten an entire box of chocolates in one day? I don’t even like chocolate that much. That sounds so uncomfortably sweet.

Drank fruit flavoured cider?

Eaten birthday cake? Sure, we had cake for my mom’s, my aunt’s, and my cousin’s/godson’s birthdays.

Had a grandparent move into long-term care? My remaining grandparents are all fortunately still very healthy.

Kept a journal of your thoughts and feelings during lockdown? This is technically it, whether’s there’s a lockdown or not. I tried starting a journal after my breakup, but I couldn’t keep it up because my wrist strains easily from handwriting now, hahaha. I find that doing surveys suffice.

Had distressing dreams/nightmares related to the pandemic? No, but about other pressing events in my life.

Felt concerned about your financial situation? Not mine but my family’s.

Returned to a social platform that you took a break from? I left Facebook for a few months after the breakup. I’m back on it again because I had missed the memes, but I also want to permanently delete that account for good, open a new one, and just add the people I want to keep having in my circle. Like I love Gabie’s family to death but I don’t see the point in being Facebook friends with them still, and it actually feels kinda awkward now still seeing them on my list. Idk. We’ll see. I might keep my account or start a new one altogether.

Missed a past hobby or interest? I mean I missed going to malls and bars and going out with my friends, if that counts as an interest. I had to do much less of that this year.

Started a new hobby? I started doing embroidery about a month ago, and a few days ago I started working out. My body is as sore as all fuck, but at least it makes me feel good about myself. For the new year, I also plan on starting a skincare routine after 22 years of not doing anything with my face lol and maybeeee start experimenting with coffee and buy different kinds of beans just because?? Idk, I have a lot of cute hobbies planned out for next year haha I’m excited to see how it goes.

Joined some new Facebook groups? Both for work and personal purposes, yep.

Made some new friends online? I definitely like that I’ve become closer and more familiar with the survey community here. I feel like I barely interacted with anyone pre-Covid, when real life was still a bit more hectic and when it was more difficult to find time to relax and sit down and read everyone’s answers. I also became friends with Justine, Angel, and Bianca when I started as an intern at my workplace.

Felt annoyed because you saw someone without a mask? Everyone wears a mask in public, and there are always people assigned to monitor and lightly scold those stubborn enough to take their masks off. So this isn’t the case, but what I do find annoying is when people stand or walk too close to you. Just last week at the grocery this lady was close enough to be breathing down my neck when I was lining up at the cashier; being non-confrontational for the most part, it felt like being in the deepest pit of hell.

Felt like people were staring at you when you wore a mask? I feel like people are more likely to stare at people who DON’T have a mask.

Bought new stationery? My sister has tons of stationery in her room for whatever reason; when I need one to write short notes or letters, I just ask for some from her.

Video-called your extended family and friends? For sure. We did this a lot especially during the earlier parts of the year.

Written a letter to someone you missed?

Disagreed with the behaviour of a friend?

Felt surprised when someone wanted to be your friend? No one directly said it to me; but as an intern on my first day of the job, it was a really pleasant surprise to find that the co-interns I was going to be with weren’t boring, unemotional cogs who just aimed to do work. They were HILARIOUS from the get-go, was confused as fuck about work, and I could see they just wanted to make our tiny intern family a close-knit and happy group, to which I gladly agreed and went along with.

Bought a new pair of shoes? I got new shoes meant for my first job interview, but I haven’t gotten any brand new sneakers in a while :(

Replaced some toiletries that you ran out of during lockdown? I guess? Toiletries are necessities, so.

Bought some new books? I read new ones, but I didn’t buy them. Some I saw copies of on the internet; one was given as a gift to me.

Bought new cosmetics? I don’t use those.

Received a belated birthday present?

Received a present from a friend overseas?

Discovered a new author that you liked?

Felt like you were drifting away from people you were once close to? *A person. Yeah, well.

Found out that someone you knew had contracted Covid? She’s a mutual friend from my high school days. We aren’t close but we’ve kept in touch by still following each other on social media. She wrote about her experience with Covid on a blog entry.

Realised you had formed a deep connection with someone? I got a lot closer with Andi both because we had to work together for our thesis and because they were there for me, unconditionally and untiringly, when I was coping with my breakup and was in rough shape.

Worried about the financial situation of someone close to you? Of my family, like I said, yes. We had to sell the Vitara because the money that pours into the household monthly isn’t enough to keep paying for it. To be fair, that car was a very big impulse buy by my dad, so we didn’t and don’t feel too bad about losing it hahaha.

Let your guard down to someone? I don’t think so. I was on red alert this year since Gab increasingly broke my trust.

Had an issue with something on social media? Yeah, but I don’t want to get into it. That was such a long time ago and is so irrelevant now.

Felt disconnected from others? I deliberately did so three months ago, so much so that I had acquaintances I barely talked to since graduating talk to Andi and ask where I’ve been.

Changed your internet provider? We’ve had the same one for like 8-9 years now. It works pretty okay for five people who stream videos all day, so we haven’t felt the need to switch.

Felt fortunate/thankful? I mean I’m here, scar-less, and happy with myself on December 31, 2020, right?

Tried some new foods that you enjoyed? Baked sushi is so fucking good.

Re-read a book that you loved? Crazy Is My Superpower by AJ Mendez (aka my favorite girl wrestler, AJ Lee) is always a good read to come back to.

#survey #surveys

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fuck-customers · 5 years

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I suffer from severe depression, anxiety, and PTSD. If this bothers you then this isn’t your cup of tea to read. It will be brutal. It will be honest. It will be graphic.

I had my symptoms almost completely under control for years. I have wonderful kids and a supportive husband. For some reason a switch flipped in my brain. I no longer had my hands on the wheel no brakes to stop it. The nightmares, flashbacks, bouts of depression, never ending anxiety, and more were returning full force. It’s not like they ever went away, they were just not as big of a demon it is now. It actually got bad enough that I voluntarily committed myself to a mental health care facility.

Despite that help I only got worse. Self harming started with scratches, then deep wounds, until I was using blunt objects until I bruised. Any kind of physical pain somehow made the monster in my head weaker. During that time I also became increasingly suicidal. I began to miss work because I was just clutched so tightly within the jaws of mental horror. Obviously my husband began to stay home with me to ensure my safety.

This was making our financial situation harder and my mental health worsened with it. Like a sick joke one led to the other led to the other until I was unable to get out of bed most days of the week. When we lost Medicaid and were unable to afford insurance that also made a huge impact on my well being. We couldn’t afford for me to see a therapist, go to the doctor, or get my medication. We had to limit these things that are a very crucial part of my past, present, and future.

We did what we could to get my medication and do minimal visits to the doctor. We couldn’t afford a therapist, so that got neglected. I needed all of it, though. My quality of life suffered as did my family’s. The days missed from work piled up between the two of us. All because of this strong inescapable force that is a part of my every waking and sleeping moment.

Before I go further, yes, I know being absent a lot is reasonable terms for termination. But where do you draw the line? Where does understanding come into play? Where is your compassion, Walmart?

Things were looking up for a brief time. My loyal online friends helped make sure that my kids still got a Christmas despite our hardships. I was so moved that I felt like things could get better. Wrong.

A week before Christmas and all through the store Walmart decided we were too much of a chore. Both my husband and I were fired. On the same day. A WEEK BEFORE CHRISTMAS! I became numb at first thinking that surely there was something we could do. We were both loyal employees and did our jobs well. So my husband and I decided to speak with the store manager about our options.

She was the most cold, robotic human being I have ever met. She sounded completely scripted and devoid of any soul as she went through the reasons we couldn’t keep out jobs. We sat and watched her as if she was giving a power point presentation and how horrible we were as employees.

I started hypo ventilating and crying in front of her. With that same robotic practiced voice she asked if I wanted her to call for an ambulance. My chest got tighter. She then asked in a monotone if she needed to call a doctor. My husband had to lead me out of the store as my breath became almost impossible to catch.

Still crying when we got home I suddenly felt that overwhelming urge that I’ve had so many times before. This time, though, I knew it was the day. I was going to do it. I had a point where I wasn’t able to provide for my family, we could become homeless, starve, and worse. The monster finally snapped it’s jaws shut with a final nudge from that conversation.

I waited until my husband fell asleep. We were both stressed enough that we had a couple of drinks. With a belly full of vodka I climbed up the stairs to my bedroom. I gathered every single pill bottle I could find, vitamins included, and choked all of them down. All there was to do now was get in bed, fall asleep, and wait.

I woke up blind, scared, weak, and confused. The ground felt like a sea of tiny legos that I sank into the more I struggled. I felt no pain, but I could hear my husband yelling at me to get into bed. I had fallen at some point, but try as I might I couldn’t claw my way up. He dragged me into the hallway and redressed me. I have no memory of having ever removed them, so it almost felt as though I was being stuffed into a body bag. His voice sounded so far away as he called 911. The darkness pulled me in and wouldn’t let me go.

In the ambulance I screamed as if possessed for water. I felt like I had gone for weeks without hydration. The more I was denied, the more I howled and pleaded. I begged as they strapped my hands down so I couldn’t fight for a single drop anymore. I finally began to figure out some hazy figures. To my left was for sure my husband, holding my hand and crying. To my right were a bunch of people I didn’t know. Still immobilized I screamed! Water! Please give me some water! All I heard were echoes that I couldn’t have any.

As time went on I began to feel as though my husband was drifting away from me as these people surrounded me and mocked me. I thought they were telling me to sit up, so I kept trying. They held a straw to my mouth just out of reach. It was too dark to see and they kept playing a game of “keep away” with the straw. I remember writhing and shrieking because of the feeling that I would never be able to taste water ever again. Just as hope was waning I saw my little brother. Impossible, I thought, he lives clear across the country. With him taking my hand my body stilled and my consciousness slipped.

When I once again came to I was still out of it, desperately thirsty, and strapped down. Never have I wanted to escape so much. My memory isn’t clear from here, but I’m sure that I managed to work one of my hands out of the restraint before intervention occurred. I was medicated to calm me down and sled back into a sort of unaware purgatory.

Upon waking again I was more level headed. I was told that my husband found me naked, convulsing, and trashing around in an effort to get back into bed .I had stitches in my head, bruises over pretty much 40% of my body, broken toe nails and finger nails, scrapes, and a deep wound behind my ear. My bedroom is quite small, so the amount of movement and strength I was putting into everything caused quite a lot of damage. For the next few days my vision went from triple, to double, then blurry before coming back to normal. I spent that time learning how to walk again so that I could simply walk to the toilet. Unable to do so I was humiliated by the necessity of a bed pan.

Where is this silver lining of all of this? What does this have to do with Walmart? I’ll start with the good things I have taken away from this whole disaster. I found help. I found people. I found love. I found the resources I desperately needed but did not know existed. I could finally get back on the road of recovery, no longer a snack for the jaws of depression. I met so many kind and generous people. I was visited by a Chaplain who lent an ear and offered me a gift card to a grocery store so I could feed my family. A local women’s charity group brought two boxes of food and intend to bring gifts and coats for my kids as well. Once again my online friends came to my rescue. For the first time in almost a year I feel good for a change.

As for Walmart’s part in my sad adventure? Their lack of empathy and sheer disregard for an employee in pain. They talk real big about family and caring about their employees. That is a lie, as my family learned. It was the last lie that I just couldn’t stand. The reason that I am sharing this is because I know I am not alone, my husband isn’t alone either. We are both victims in retail hell. Yes, again, we called off so much that we did have it reasonably coming to us. What I’m upset about is that no one asked why I was missing so much work. They didn’t even ask if I was okay or how to help. Instead the grinches decided to fire us the week before Christmas.

Everyday there is an employee out there hanging on by a thread in any retail store, but I am speaking about my experience with Walmart. They are more than willing to snip those scissors over that thread you’re clinging to. Walmart, like so many other corporations, does not care. It’s that simple. We are not people to them, we’re not even machines. We may as well be the crap they scrape off the bottom of their shoes.

Merry Christmas, Walmart! Thank you for nearly killing me with that good old fashioned Sam Walton pride. My name is Heather and I tried committing suicide on December 18th, 2018 after a very cruel discussion with the store manager of Walmart store 802. I know that I am not alone with this event. I didn’t want to learn that I am not alone through this method, so I implore you. Do not let your job be that last straw when it comes to your mental well being. Cling to that straw. I just barely clung and I’m lucky to have survived. I am here to tell you that it is not worth it. You are cared for by a lot of people, more than you’ll ever know. -Abby

Yes, I know I full on just posted the store name and number. But they have really really REALLY deserve this one. -Abby

#tw suicide #suicide #graphic #trigger warning #death #walmart #ptsd #self harm

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obsidianarchives · 5 years

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The Sneak

It was nearly half past midnight. The unseasonably warm evening had approached so gradually that it couldn’t have been predicted. Marietta lay wide awake, staring at the ceiling of her room. The glow-in-the-dark star stickers that she had placed there nearly eight years ago had not lost any of their luster. She laid there, hoping that she could absorb even the tiniest morsel of hope that she had felt when she put them up. This was the third time this week that she had found herself in this position, woken up by a nightmare in a cold sweat. She had been plagued by terrible dreams for months now. The ever increasing mysteries that seemed to litter the Daily Prophet did nothing to relieve her mind of its anxieties. Turning to her side, she gripped her ears, unable to rid them of this constant ringing sound. What was I dreaming about? The dream seemed to Disapparate from her mind. She couldn’t remember anything except…Laughter. In her dreams, the laughter had become so loud, so overbearing that it completely eclipsed any rational thought that she tried to pull forth.

Tossing once more, she became frustrated with herself. “Might as well clean my ruddy room, since I can’t sleep.” She thought to herself.

With an outstretched hand, she grasped at her wand, which had rolled a few centimeters past her fingertips on her bed. She tugged at the quilt with more force than necessary, which sent her wand in the opposite direction. It landed with a sickening thud that caused Marietta to lunge forward, going head first off the bed. A yelp turned to stifled laughter, her wand lying next to her in perfect condition. She glanced at the door, expecting her mum to have appeared, bleary-eyed in the doorway. Luckily, it seemed as if the prescribed sleeping draught had worked. Marietta didn’t want to disturb her. Sitting up, she reached for a nearby scrunchie and tied up the mass of reddish-blonde curls that had been sticking to the sides of her face.

From this angle, she was able to see the remnants of her depression. The floor was cluttered with cups, bowls, and plates. Several outfits and shoes were scattered, dropped after only one use. And her Hogwarts trunk lay in the corner, overflowing with books, cloaks, quills, and parchment. She rose solemnly, marching towards it. The trunk had grown quite dusty. It had been sitting this way for almost a year now, abandoned in the corner of her room since leaving Hogwarts.

Her finishing ceremony had been a glum one, the more formal celebration forgone since the passing of Dumbledore was still fresh on everyone’s minds. Many parents had taken their children and fled shortly after paying their respects, which Marietta found strange because where, if any place, was safe? The students that had stayed behind received their certificates of completion with little fanfare and returned home to a brand new wizarding world. A world where even the most powerful and respected wizards were no longer able to contain the threat of the Dark Lord’s uprising.

Grabbing the nearest t-shirt, she began wiping the trunk gingerly. The dust clung to the shirt without much hesitation and Marietta began organizing the contents of the trunk. First, she took out the cloaks, shaking them slightly and placing them to the side to be hanged. Next, the books. She gathered them by subject matter and walked them over to her book shelf. For a moment she hesitated on whether to line them by height or color. The work moved quickly and she realized that a sense of lightness had filled her as she could now see more of the floor. She gathered her hangers from her closet and eagerly began to hang the various cloaks and jumpers that were now in a pile in the middle of the floor.

In search of more work, Marietta eagerly scanned the room until her eyes landed on a stack of mail that had been neatly laid on her dresser. She had stopped opening them after receiving nearly two months worth of rejection letters. At every interview she had attended since leaving Hogwarts, she saw the way people took in her overall appearance. Their eyes would fall on the scar that had been painfully seared into her face, the word “sneak.” The word had made her untrustworthy to any and every new person she came in contact with. She had taken to wearing a balaclava but even in the wizarding world, the accessory seemed out of place. For a fleeting moment, she thought bitterly of Hermione Granger and the other members of Dumbledore’s Army.

An envelope in the shade of a very pale pastel pink stood out amongst all the letters. Quickly, she grabbed it, ripping it open, hoping for good news. A piece of parchment in the same shade of pink slid out of the envelope. At first glance, Marietta was distracted by the enchanted kittens playing with a ball of yarn along the bottom of the sheet as she unfolded the letter. She soon regained focus and began to read.

Dear Miss Edgecombe,

It has been brought to my attention that you are currently seeking a position within the Ministry of Magic’s Research Committee. I regret to inform you that at the moment, we do not have an opening within that department. The position has been filled. However, if you would like to join me, I am in need of an office assistant, as I am back in my position as the Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic. The position is yours pending the results of both yours and your father’s trial before the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. I see that there are some questions regarding your father’s parentage.

Signed,

Dolores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic

Though dated nearly three months ago, Marietta felt her throat constrict. Tears blurred her vision and her breathing was shallow. Another threat to her family. Not only had Professor Umbridge alienated her from those that she had cared about at Hogwarts, she seemed to get a sort of twisted pleasure from reminding Marietta that she was now alone.

This wasn’t the first time that Umbridge had used the post to send seemingly non-threatening letters to her. Marietta had embarrassed her, and embarrassing Umbridge had put a target on her back. Near the beginning of last term, Umbridge had sent a letter to her parents, praising them for the way they had “brought up such a lovely and smart young lady,” but who had unfortunately been seen hanging around with some undesirables. The news had sent shockwaves through her parents. They had explicitly told her to keep her head down and her nose clean. Sticking to Umbridge’s good side were her marching orders and Marietta, ever the good daughter, stuck to them.

Times had changed dramatically since those long ago months at Hogwarts. Her parents had gone from being happy Ministry employees to frightened worker bees. Unknown to them, Marietta had overheard them speaking in hushed tones about the change of environment in the Ministry. Mr. Edgecombe, a short and stumpy man with greying red-blonde hair, had started to lose the rosiness of his cheeks. His eyes were now dark and framed by heavy bags underneath. And he had sunken in cheeks from the significant amount of weight he had lost since receiving a letter on official parchment nearly one month prior.

“I don’t know what I am going to do, Marjorie,” he said, frightened, “ I don’t know much about my mum and da. I was left at St. Catherine’s…”

“I know, darling. I know. Surely there’s something we can do.” Mrs. Edgecombe whispered, slightly squeezing her husband’s hand, “We have worked for the Ministry for decades now. It has to count for something.”

The moment was quickly cut short. A floor board had groaned loudly as Marietta shifted her position in the hall, alerting her parents that they were no longer speaking in private. Acting quickly, she had strolled into the kitchen, eying her father as he quickly stashed the letter into the pocket of his cloak. They ate breakfast in silence. Neither parent had asked about her plans or about any upcoming job interviews that morning, or tried to boost her confidence.

—

Blinking back her tears, Marietta pulled herself from the memory. It left just as quickly as it had arrived. She decided it was best to push down the upset feeling that had made itself known in the pit of her stomach. The idea of never again seeing her father was painful and she would not subject herself to it if it wasn’t necessary. Father had spent the majority of the last few weeks trying to find information on his family to no avail. The nuns at St. Catherine’s had only been able to repeat the same story that he had heard all of his life. Edwin Edgecombe had been abandoned on the church steps on a warm summer evening in July. He seemed to be mere days old, swaddled and placed in a basket, sleeping ever so peacefully. There was a note containing only his name and a smeared “sorry.” This was not nearly enough for the Muggle-Born Registration Commission. Edwin had been arrested and taken to some unknown place that they presumed to be Azkaban. Her mum had returned home with soaked clothes, having walked home alone in the rain without her umbrella, tears streaming down her face. With Mr. Edgecombe gone, she’d grown increasingly clingy and jumpy, losing many nights of sleep counting down to Marietta’s fast approaching trial.

Marietta sighed. Glancing towards the wardrobe and catching her eyes in the mirror, she turned her face away. She had become a pro at avoiding her own reflection. A warm sensation began to radiate from the middle of her hand and out towards her fingertips. She jumped, staring down at the carpeted floor of her bedroom. Where her hand had just been lay a small golden coin. She picked it up, holding it high and examining the surface of it. It dawned on her slowly, it was her Dumbledore’s Army galleon!

Quick as a flash, Marietta was on her feet. What did this all mean? Was somebody in trouble?

Stumbling, she grabbed her trousers and began pacing the room. The faces of all of the D.A. members raced through her mind. Luna, Neville, Dean, Cho…Cho? They hadn’t spoken in months. Cho had reached out a few times but, Marietta, hunkered down in depression, had ignored her friend’s attempts. The last she had heard, Cho had gone on holiday in Paris.

Marietta, picked up the coin and, holding it high in the air, examined it once more. It was still radiating heat. She had half hoped that it was her imagination. A warm yellow light outlined the small dragon emblem on the surface of the coin and slowly dimmed. There was nothing to do now but to answer the call. But, who exactly was calling?

Hogwarts! I’ve got to get to Hogwarts. It was the only option. Everything happens at Hogwarts. It had been that way since her second year.

An overwhelming sense of duty flooded through Marietta’s mind. Her father, her upcoming trial, the news in the Daily Prophet, people needed help. This wasn’t the time to sit back, there were things worth fighting for. She had knowingly signed up to be able to defend her family and her friends back at Hogwarts, partially out of teenage rebellion but mostly out of fear. The writing had been on the wall in fifth year when Harry showed up at the end of the Triwizard Tournament holding Cedric’s body.

In a flash, Marietta had pulled on her trousers, a jumper, and tied her trainers extra tight. She was panting from both fear and excitement. She approached her dresser, looking for a scarf to tie around her face and head. Her hands were shaking so much that the scarf felt impossible to get on. In pure frustration, she ripped it off and tossed it aside.

“If I’m going to die tonight, I’ll will face them fully,” she said aloud to herself, thinking of the Death Eaters.

The words hit her like a brick. She could possibly die tonight. Puffing out her chest, she scrawled a note, a goodbye letter to her mother. She placed the note on her dresser with great care and took one last look at her bedroom. It was now spotless and she noticed a photo of her and her friends cheering on the Ravenclaw Quidditch team on her bulletin board. Smiling sadly, she closed the room door and headed towards the family room. With a swish of the wrist, she cast Muffliato, reached into the pot over the mantle, and tossed Floo powder into the fireplace. Green sparks shot up and turned into great flames, She cast one more doubting look around the room and stepped inside.

“Hogsmeade!” she said boldly and disappeared from view.

—

“Who’s there?!” cried a frightened voice in the darkness.

Marietta had landed with a large thud in an unknown dark room. Why didn’t I think of a specific shop? She thought as she filled with panic. Rolling out of view, she gripped her wand at her side and placed her back against a solid structure. Struggling with all of her might, she held her breath.

“Lumos,” said the frightened voice. “I know you’re in here. I heard you!”

The light moved, casting shadows onto the surrounding walls. The dim lighting revealed a big room filled with tables and chairs. The footsteps grew closer and Marietta’s heart beat hard in her chest.

“Lumos Maxima!” she roared, stepping out into the open.

Madam Rosmerta yelped, covering her eyes. She stood there for a moment, trembling in her dressing gown, deep emerald robes and satin bonnet. Marietta took notice of her fear and lowered her wand.

“Nox,” she said after a moment’s hesitation.

“Nox,” repeated Rosmerta. Her wand extinguished. “Who are you? What do you want?” her voice trembled.

“My name is Marietta Edgecombe. I used to go to Hogwarts and I have a feeling that I’m needed here tonight.” Marietta said bravely, thinking of the warm coin in her left hand.

“Is that so?” Rosmerta snorted, wand still pointed dangerously at Marietta. “Well it seems as if there is a rough lot around here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to be here with them?” She said squinting.

“No, I’m not,” Marietta said, gripping her wand tightly again.

“Very well then,” Rosmerta said suddenly dropping her wand. “Looks like we’ll need a drink then.”

She crossed the room and strolled behind the bar. With a flick of the wand two mugs slowly lowered from the shelf to the counter. Rosmerta walked to a nearby sink and rinsed them. Summoning a towel, she dried them by hand and set them before Marietta.

“You like firewhisky?” she said searching the shelves.

“Uhhh...”

“Good. Me too,” she chuckled.

With two very generous helpings served, she said, “Cheers!” and downed the glass.

Marietta stared at the mug and winced. She hesitantly took as sip and immediately began sputtering. The whiskey burned from the moment it touched her lips and a warming sensation was lodged in her chest. She needed more time to think. Where would the other D.A. members meet? They had never planned on being out of Hogwarts when the attack happened.

“Atta girl!” said Rosmerta laughing and pouring herself another mug.

“So, what happened here?” said Marietta looking around distractedly. The Three Broomsticks, once lively and warm, had an overwhelming feeling of sadness.

“I closed down last year, wasn’t really any reason to keep this place running,” Rosmerta said, staring off into space, “Not after everyone found out that I was responsible for Dumbledore’s death.”

“But. You didn’t—” started Marietta.

“I did enough!” Rosmerta cut in. “One of the most brilliant wizards of our time, Dumbledore was.”

They drank in silence once more. Unfortunately to Marietta, the next sip was just as horrible as the first. She pushed away the glass. A slight crack outside the pub turned their attention. They jumped up from their positions and pointed the wands in the direction of the noise. Hushed whispers could be heard from outside. Marietta moved quickly, pressing herself against the walls, she made her way to the curtained window near the door. From her vantage point she was able to make out a group of about three people, running in a serpentine pattern, ducking in an out of the shadows. Marietta stared, squinting into the darkness to try to make out who they were.

Marietta waited with bated breath as the trio moved silently down the road. The smallest of the group stumbled slightly, betraying herself in the glow of a nearby torch.

“Cho,” gasped Marietta.

As quickly as she had appeared, Cho was back in the shadows, racing in the direction of Hogwarts. Without thinking, Marietta Apparated into the next alley. They slammed into one another, causing Marietta to land roughly onto the cobbled street. Regaining focus, she noticed not one but three wands pointed in her direction. Dean Thomas, Luna Lovegood, and Cho Chang stood above her, wands aimed at her chest.

“M-Mari?!” Cho sputtered.

“Hi,” Marietta said weakly as she rose to her feet.

Cho quickly embraced her. “What are you doing here?” she said in a hushed whisper.

“The coin,” Marietta said, pulling the galleon from her pocket. “I knew that it had to be Hogwarts. We trained all that time. They took my dad.”

The words felt fragmented and suddenly Marietta became aware of who she was talking to. What if they didn’t accept her? What if they thought that she was working for the other side? She thought of the branded “sneak,” on her face. Why would they believe her for even one second?

As if reading her mind, Dean smirked knowingly. “Come on, Sneaks, we’ve got work to do”

3 Weeks Later…..

“Where is it? Where is it?” Marietta said, frantically running around her house.

She had scrubbed the house from top to bottom and spent more time than necessary fluffing the pillows on the couch. There were flowers, balloons, and cards covering every flat surface in the living room and kitchen. Her father was coming home today. After the Battle of Hogwarts, it had taken about a week for the Ministry to find him and the other missing wizards that had not been successful in their meeting with the Muggle-Born Registration Commission.

The unfortunate wizards had been found in the dungeons of Azkaban, locked away with less than the necessary amount of space. They were hungry and dehydrated but, thankfully, still alive. Edwin had been whisked away to St. Mungos with the severely injured, having been subjected to a few beatings for standing up to their Death Eater guards.

The kettle screamed loudly as Marietta had taken to searching the coat closet. Her father’s favorite throw blanket had been put away as warmer weather prevailed but she could not for the life of her figure out where her mom had put it.

“Ha!” She screamed in victory as the blanket toppled onto her head from the top shelf.

Racing to the kitchen to remove the kettle from the stove top, she sighed. Everything looked great and her parents would be home very soon. She went about setting plates full of her father’s favorite things. It would be a lovely brunch. Veggie frittata, sausages, fresh squeezed orange juice, and giant slices of banana bread, fresh from the oven. She was so excited that she almost missed the sound of the doorbell and two large knocks that echoed throughout the hallway.

She ran, skidding to a halt at the door. “Mom you’re back so soon, I can’t belie—” she stopped midway as she opened the door.

The smile faded from her face, a feeling of disdain taking over.

“Umm…hello,” said a very unsure looking Hermione Granger with a weak wave.

“ABSOLUTELY NOT!” Marietta roared. She slammed the door with so much force that it seemed as if the glass would break.

Frantic muttering could be heard as she had stormed back into her living room. Mrs. Weatherby, annoying neighbor and gossip extraordinaire, suddenly popped into her mind. Marietta could envision her looking out her window at this moment and seeing Hermione Granger flailing around on her doorstep. It was at the precise moment of this thought that Hermione began to annoyingly ring the doorbell and knock louder than was necessary.

“MARIETTA! PLEASE, I JUST WANT TO TALK!” she yelled from the porch.

Rolling her eyes, Marietta pivoted and started once again toward the front door. She swung it open to reveal a very red-faced Hermione, who had been so busy ringing the doorbell that she hadn’t noticed the open door.

“You have five minutes.” Marietta said warningly. She opened the door wider to let Hermione slip in.

—

Taking her place across the table from Hermione, Marietta slid over a cup of tea. Hermione had been sitting, anxiously looking around the room.

“Your home is lovely,” she started.

“Is that what you came here to talk about?” Marietta said with raised eyebrows as she sipped her tea.

“No.” Hermione sighed. She reached for her own cup, taking a sip and choking slightly.

“Sorry, my dad likes a bit of dragon’s breath chili in his tea,” Marietta smirked, taking another sip.

Hermione grabbed the nearest napkin and began dabbing her eyes. “I have been trying to get in contact with you,” she said.

“Mmmm… well?”

“Listen, I know that we didn’t get off on the right foot—”

Marietta snorted.

“—but, it has been absolutely my fault. “ Hermione finished.

Marietta was so stunned she didn’t really know what to say.

“We were all doing what we thought was best and…I treated you unfairly. I should’ve told you, told all of you, what you were getting into by signing up for the D.A. I had convinced myself that it was for the best. It was for the safety of all of us. I should’ve been more straightforward and I’m sorry.”

More silence.

“And you showed up to Hogwarts—”

“That wasn’t for you!” Marietta snapped.

“Of- Of course not” Hermione said, looking down at her hands in embarrassment. “Anyway, I really came here because I think I figured out a way to get that off of your face,” she said, indicating towards the marks.

“Excuse me?” Marietta said confused. She had tried several remedies and none had had any effect, and now Hermione was offering a cure?

“I’m sorry that it took so long, busy year,” Hermione said with a slight chuckle. She reached in her bag and pulled out a small pot of cream. “May I?”

Marietta gave a slight nod, Hermione opened the jar and spread a small amount of the substance over Marietta’s scars. There was a warming, then cooling sensation. As she looked across the table, Hermione burst into a smile.

“See?” she said, handing a small compact mirror to her.

Marietta stared back at her reflection, unable to believe her eyes. She slammed down the compact and ran into the hallway. Hermione rushed after her, almost falling as she slammed into the now frozen Marietta in front of the mirror. The scars had almost completely vanished.

“You may need to do it one more time to get them off thoroughly,” Hermione said sheepishly.

As Marietta stared in shock at her reflection, Hermione quietly gathered her belongings and started to head for the door. As she reached it, Marietta called out.

“Hermione, wait.”

Hermione turned around with a slight grimace.

“Thank you.” Marietta said softly. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Yes, I did,” Hermione said.

Suddenly, Marietta was struck with an idea.“Can you do something else for me before you go?” she asked.

—

A cab rolled slowly to the front gate of the Edgecombe home. Mr. and Mrs. Edgecombe slowly, with the help of the driver, began to exit as Hermione and Marietta walked onto the porch.

“Thank you. Again,” said Marietta as she stuck her hand out to Hermione.

On her forearm was a delicate tattoo in the shape of a wand. As she and Hermione shook hands, sparks flew from the tip of the wand and the words “Dumbledore’s Army Est.1995” formed above it. They disappeared and another spark formed the word “Sneaks.”

“I’ll be seeing you then.” Hermione said as she walked down the path.

“See you,” Marietta said with a wave.

#Victory Day #Accio Books #fanfic #Battle of Hogwarts

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mittensmorgul · 5 years

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Hi lovely Mittens. I was wondering... What are your thoughts about Dean riding shotgun? Thanxxx!

HECK. I have another message nearly identical, so I’m putting it here...

I’m not sure if it’s Michael related, because I’m still holding my current opinion that Michael hasn’t been “inside Dean” since 14.02. Which... looks likely considering Michael seems to be in the corporate looking woman from the 14.09 promo-- at the very least she seems to be playing Michael’s current suit in that promo clip.

That said, is there a chance Michael will either jump back into Dean or otherwise control Dean in 14.09? It’s possible. But I really hate speculating, and instead prefer to do what the show has been actively encouraging us to do for the last several years. I prefer to look back to the past for what the current story is showing us.

Dean’s never sat shotgun while Cas drove. Even when they were in Cas’s car.

In 9.10, Dean even made Cas sit in the back seat of his own car to babysit Crowley.

Sure, Cas has sat shotgun in the Impala numerous times, but typically when Dean is in a car, he’s driving (or at least in the front seat). Sure there was that time in 1.22 when he was unconscious in the back seat, and Sam has driven a good number of times over the years while Dean slept or rode shotgun in the passenger seat, but never while Cas was driving.

This is why 12.09 was so... shocking, when Dean not only gave up driving duties, but also chose to sit in the back seat with Cas and let Sam ride up front with Mary. That was already setting up the dynamic we saw play out in s13-- with Dean primarily upset/mourning for Cas, while Sam spent the early part of the season having accepted Cas’s death but growing increasingly desperate to find a way to rescue Mary from the AU.

The way characters are paired up like this, paralleled to each other like this, is significant when it becomes an ongoing pattern. Which is why noticing shifts like this helps us understand the evolving dynamics.

Almost as interesting as Dean letting Cas drive and being content to ride along, effectively giving Cas the lead here despite being grumpy about Sam having left the bunker and Cas not having tried to stop him, is the fact that for the second time in two weeks, Cas is driving a different car.

He’s driven his old Pimpmobile, then stole that brown pickup truck in 12.01 and drove it for the whole season, only abandoning it when he was killed in 12.23. When he came back, he didn’t really have his own car for all of s13, mostly riding along in the Impala again. And we haven’t see what car he’s been driving all season long to this point, but in 14.07 he drove a little blue compact car (A Fiesta! Perfect for Party!Cas!), and one episode later has what looks like a newer pickup truck again.

Where is Cas getting all these cars? Especially since they’re all relatively new compared to the usual cars they usually steal or borrow or use when they’re not driving the Impala. Is he actually renting them or something? Or has he just gotten a taste for more practical cars than the old cars he’d been driving before?

Cas does still have booping ability, with the full-on These Are Not The Droids You Are Looking For power. Could be he’s just “asking” people around town to borrow their cars when he needs one and then returning them when he comes back home. We honestly have no idea where he’s getting them, but I’m finding it hilarious. I hope he’s got an entirely different car next time we see him driving.

Maybe he’s just taking them all out for test drives, trying to find one he really loves to settle on permanently? Which I’d find incredibly interesting since that’s basically what Cas has been doing regarding pretty much everything for years now-- trying to figure out who and what he wants to be, and where he wants to belong.

#spn 14.08 #casitel winchester #spn 14.07 #spn 9.10 #spn 12.01 #spn 12.23 #great now i am having feelings about YET ANOTHER CAR #anarchiana

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svartalfhild · 5 years

Text

2018, I Won’t Miss You

A.k.a. I call out this year for all the ways it fucked me over and reflect on a few good experiences.

This year was the first year I’ve ever had a smart phone, which ended up being pretty damn useful, even essential at some points. However, the counterbalance was that I had to go through finding out how to live in a post-school existence, and that was not pretty, because it put me at all new levels of social isolation and uncertainty. I stressed super hard about finding a new job. I ultimately didn’t get one and lost hours at my current job because I thought I was going to be transitioning to a better job at a toy store, but they laid me off only a few weeks after hiring me to replace me with someone with better availability. They said I could stay on as a “seasonal worker” but it’s past Christmas and I haven’t been asked to fill a single shift since they benched me in September, so saying I still work there is kind of a joke at this point.

The good news is, despite the stress of failing to get a better job, I’ve added art as an occasional source of extra income, starting with doing the cover illustration for a short story my mother published earlier this year and later with opening commissions to the online community.

My mental health didn’t have a super great year, though, especially in the first half. On top of the job bullshit and the dealing with not knowing how to live life without school, I was feeling intensely bleak about my existence. I was in an excruciating amount of emotional pain because of things I couldn’t control, and it festered because I had the free time to ruminate about how lonely and dejected I felt. I hadn’t felt quite that bad in several years, actually. It’s hard to compete with the shit I was going through in middle school, but this came alarmingly close.

I think my biggest mistake was trying to force myself to be fine again as soon as possible when it took me a couple years to get past the shit that plagued me when I was 12. I honestly think, though, that there was a little while there from about July to late September when I was coping pretty well. I don’t know what happened in late spring to make that happen, but I was in a state of higher functioning for a bit in the summer.

The sad thing is that here at the end of the year, I am once again struggling with the same shit; I’m just a whole lot better with how that affects my behaviour towards other people now. I do feel like I’ve learned how to better interact with people and shield those I love from the worst of my mental health nonsense. In turn, I think that has greatly improved my relationships and made me less prone to beating myself up over the things I say. Progress.

And hey! I did manage to do some pretty rad things this year, despite all the crap my physical and mental health were hefting onto me. I got on a plane for the first time and traveled by myself to Oregon to be with some of my closest friends, who I’d only ever known through the internet before. We went to a convention together and had a really awesome time getting our asses kicked at AtlA themed dodgeball dressed as our DnD characters. I went through a haunted house for the first time and found out that I’m too rational to be scared by a lot of that sort of stuff (but it was still fun). I got to go to huge bookstore and see a first American edition of Fellowship of the Ring. I think the best part of that whole trip, though, was just living with friends and getting a taste of what life without my family’s control could be like. For once in my life, I trusted that everyone and everything was going to be okay, and for a few days, I was really happy. Because of that, though, I spent a lot of the day that I left crying or trying not to cry. Having so much of what you want and then having to leave it is...really upsetting, as it turns out.

But anyway. I also managed to complete an application to grad school, so even though my whole Find A Good Job plan didn’t work, I still took a step towards some kind of life goal and I don’t have to have a total existential crisis just yet. I don’t have high expectations about being accepted, but I do have some hopes and that’s something I can hold onto going into next year.

A lot changed with my family this past year. Dealing with the wake of my grandfather’s sudden death was a major issue all year that seemed almost handled until my grandmother died just a couple months ago, which threw everything back into chaos and despair. Death and loss have been an awful theme for me this year in general. On top of my grandparents’ deaths, my dad’s best friend committed suicide, and a friend of mine, who I know to have been suicidal in the past, completely disappeared from the internet when I wasn’t looking, and I was unable to track her down to find out if she was okay. Other friends lost people who were dear to them as well. The world was ravaged by increasingly terrible disasters on top of that. Needless to say, my empathy circuits are fucking fried.

Thankfully, life handed me some pretty great distractions from its bullshit, like an awesome DnD campaign and lots of time with assorted other TTRPGs, or numerous video games like Pillars of Eternity II: Deadire, Fallout 4, and Overwatch. Netflix brought me countless hours of enjoyment, and my brother got me to watch all of Stargate SG1 with him, which I wasn’t super into at first, but it grew on me. I started knitting again for the first time in years, because I love knitting scarves for people. I did a lot of fic writing, but it wasn’t really fanfiction so much as additional content for my tabletop games. Same goes for art.

It’s been over a year now since I’ve posted any proper fanfic or fanart, which feels weird, but I think I’ve become so exhausted with the politics of being a fan content creator that I haven’t had the motivation for it. It’s much easier to keep your passion for something going when you don’t hope to attract the attention of thousands of people, and instead you’re making things for a story you made up with your closest friends. The only people whose attention you need to care about then are a handful of people who are already inherently invested.

Of course, that’s not to say that I don’t get sad about my work sometimes anyway, regardless of what I’m creating and for whom. Depression is and has been a real dick this year, and it made me procrastinate on my grad app manuscript to the point where I had to stress years off my life cramming the creation of a 10k word original short story into a single month just before the deadline. I managed it, though, and that’s the important thing.

I don’t know what to expect from 2019 except more nonsense, because there’s always copious amounts of nonsense. Having high expectations, given what the past few years have been like, seems rather silly at this point. I suppose what the new year shapes up to be will largely hinge on whether I get accepted to grad school in March or not. If I do, then it’ll be a year of big change in my life, going away to live on my own in a different state. If I don’t, then it’ll just be More Of Same, still living with my parents, working part-time at a shit food service job, looking for a new job, and tearing my hair out trying to get everything together for more grad school applications.

One way or the other, though, I intend to try to finally get treatment for my mental illness. I am tired of being like this and I’m tired of having my memory and focus abilities steadily destroyed by this shit. If anything goes right next year, let it be that.

#personal

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xaphrin · 7 years

Text

Gifts

Set in this universe

“I’m not… terrible at it.” Shirayuki had a slight bite, like she wasn’t sure if she trusted the next words to fly out of his mouth. “You’ve seen it yourself.”

The fire crackling in the hearth cast curious shadows over his face - little flecks of light and dark that mingled together and made him look almost gentle. The sight brought up buried memories of her grandparents, of nights where they gathered around the fire and tell stories or talk until the late hours of the night. It was comforting, almost homey. Obi turned and looked at her with a shine in his eyes and a twitch to his lips, like there was a secret or a joke he was keeping hidden. It was something Shirayuki was beginning to see more and more, and her heart swelled with emotion. He felt softer somehow, like his hard edges were finally easing just enough to let her slide close to him.

“Ah, Miss… with all due respect, I have seen your attempts at dancing.” Obi’s hands wrapped easily around the heavy pottery cup, and he rested it against his knee that was leaned against the back of the sofa. “If you’ve forgotten, I might remind you that I was there at the palace the night Master received Prince Raj. I wasn’t the only showstopper that night-”

Oh yes, Shirayuki remembered that night. How could she possibly forget? Obi’s movements across the floor had been liquid - a display of sinew and power that left her clinging to the top balcony as if it were her only anchor in a storm that threatened to drown her. Everything about his dance had been precise, each step carefully executed to show off his talent and skill. He had put on a show to dazzle and to make everyone forget for just a moment, that he was a slave.

“-if I remember correctly, you nearly broke Raj’s foot.” Obi’s smile turned impish, and he watched her with mirth shining in his cat-like eyes. “It was very entertaining.”

Shirayuki’s embarrassment pushed against her ribs, and she flushed thinking about it. Clearing her throat, she stared back into her tea, hoping to hide her blush in the heat from the steam. “So, I don't dance with the same skill as you, it doesn't make me a terrible dancer.”

His grin filled his face, almost taunting her without saying a single thing. He knew how to just look at her and she would crumble under him. It was a skill he was beginning to exploit.

“I grew up in a tavern, it's expected that I know how to dance.” She huffed, setting her tea to the side. She refused to let him get the best of her. If she did, she would never hear the end of it. “I wouldn't have been much fun if I didn't. Dancing at a formal event is different, and a performance even moreso.”

“You’re right.” Obi laughed again, the sound bright in the quiet around them. Sometimes it felt as though his laughter could banish darkness from a room. “Tavern dancing is much different than a performance, Miss.”

“I know that.” There was a bite to her voice that sounded sharp in her mind, but somehow faded into the dusty silence around them. “I've never really… danced with others before, just by grandfather and some of his older friends. Nor have I performed. But my dancing has never been an issue before, and I don’t see why it is now.”

“I never said it was.” His smile pulled just so to the right and he stood up, offering her his hand. “Come, Miss. I’m happy to give you a lesson.”

He could not be serious.

“You'll never learn by simply watching.”

He was serious.

Shirayuki sat there, watching with wide, shocked eyes as he offered his hand to her. It was the first time he had openly allowed himself to touch her, or at least offer to touch her. He had been careful to keep her at a distance, as if he wasn’t permitted into her space, no matter how many subtle invitations she had given him. She knew that he had been trained to be respectful of space and surroundings and that his status in Tanbarun didn’t allow him close to others in a personal way, but she was taken aback by how far that training had gone - even when he was surrounded by people who called themselves his friends.

Swallowing a lump that was building up in her throat, Shirayuki slipped her hand into his, his scars and callouses sliding along her own skin until their fingers had woven together and they were holding each other’s hand. She looked up at him, feeling her heart skip beats, rattling around in her chest like a bird that was trying to break free of a strange cage. Her eyes fluttered, and she could feel the gentle thump of his pulse just under his wrist, and she ran her fingers over the tendon. It twitched and he met her stare with a new shadow in his eyes.

“Come now, Miss…” His smile faltered for just a moment before widening. “Getting started is only the hard part.”

His hand released hers and moved to rest on the swell of her hips, fingers twitching as something smoldered under his touch. She had forgotten how warm he was, her thoughts wandering back to his unmistakable heat as he drug her waterlogged form from the lake. She remembered how he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her against his chest as he draped his coat over her shoulders. It had been new then, a strange feeling of security at being protected by her friend.

But this…

This wasn’t like then at all. His warmth soaked through her thick clothes and layers, through the wool and the thin linen of her undergarments, and Shirayuki suddenly felt as if she was standing naked in front of him. It was as if there wasn’t a single barrier, and Shirayuki could see every scar and mark and shadow that marred his skin in a way that didn’t feel… professional. Everything about this moment was intimate, and Obi was there, hovering over her as he inched closer. His steps slow, sultry, each twitch of his limbs purposeful and planned - fluid. He was telling her a story without saying a single word, and she was hanging on every movement.

Shirayuki felt as though she’d been thrown back into the performance in the ballroom several weeks ago, Obi’s body spinning wildly along the flow of the music - just exotic enough to be considered daring, but not so exotic it would upset someone’s sensibilities. He was drenched in color, little parts of his costume reflecting light like jewels, bells tinkling against his wrists and ankles. Every movement and crescendo gave off a flash of sparks from the dull knives in his hands. He was all show - a novelty for people to ooh and ahh at, but for no one to take seriously or remember he was human.

Raj had been sitting in the place of honor reserved for him, grinning like a wild animal. His eyes flicked from Zen to Obi and back again, as if he’d made a very fine spectacle out of both of them and was wallowing in the outcome. He was petty, that much was certain. Raj looked up to the upper balcony to see Shirayuki hovering next to a column, watching Obi dance with rapt attention. His eyes fell on her and Shirayuki could feel the slick, oily feeling of being watched. She turned and met Raj’s stare with embarrassment and fear, as if all her memories of what had happened in Tanbarun were coming back to her in a rush of colors and emotions. Her fingers sunk into the white marble and she stared at Raj, waiting for him to pull away until-

-until a dull blade flew through the air and landed just so in the wood of the chair Raj had been sitting in, gliding effortlessly past the side of his face. Raj jerked, a curse nearly flying out of his mouth, and turned to see Obi standing there, his face unreadable before melting into a sheepish smile.

“Oh-no. What an accident.” Obi sounded almost bored, his words drawing out lazily. “I apologize, your Highness, I must have not held onto my tools as tightly as I thought. I will know better for next time.”

The music had silenced, and everyone waited to see what would happen. The air felt thick with tension, pulling at the guests in the room as it grew thicker. Obi was still a slave, even if it was in another country, and he could be subject to something horrible if the Wistalias allowed it, or even if Raj willed it. Shirayuki swallowed her fear, breathing heavily through her nose as she waited in tight, painful anticipation.

Raj lifted his arm as if to call for someone, but Zen reached over and pulled it down with a light touch and a knowing smile. It was a move of power, something to show Raj that Zen was in charge. “Ah… that’s all right. Accidents can happen. No one was hurt though, and that’s important. Isn’t it, Raj.”

“Ah. Yes… right… right…” Raj sat up straight, looking very much like a cat that had been put-out. He picked at a piece of invisible lint on his jacket and gace a half-hearted wave to Obi. “Please, continue your little dance. Just be sure this accident doesn’t happen again.”

“Yes, of course, your Highness.” Obi smiled and bowed, his foot shifting out just so in front of him. Shirayuki wasn’t sure if he was getting ready to move into another dance, or if he was shifting himself into an attack position. She was learning how easily those lines blurred when it came to Obi, and one movement bled into another. To him, it seemed almost the same.

“You look lost in thought.”

Obi’s words pulled her back to the present, humming down her spine as she felt him move behind her. Her back brushed just enough against his chest to feel him twitch beneath her and Shirayuki felt her eyes flutter again. This closeness between them was becoming increasingly familiar and common, reminding her of the colder nights they had spent next to the fire - like tonight. It was in moments like these where they caught little, blurred glimpses of each other, pieces of them they refused to share with anyone else. It was in the privacy of these walls, that Obi felt as though he was allowed to be himself, and Shirayuki would do anything to protect that for him.

Shirayuki turned her head to see him hovering next to her, his hands still resting on her hips.

“Anything you’d like to share?” There was laughter in the back of his throat, but a weight to his words as well. It was as if he heard the thoughts that were sitting between them - things that hadn’t quite been spoken yet. Their entire relationship had been like this since what had happened at the lake - these moments of almost or not-quite or just half. Everything felt complicated and shrouded in something else, and Shirayuki felt as though she was falling through the air again waiting to hit the surface of the water again. Except, the water never came.

Obi tilted over her, and Shirayuki could smell the scent of the herbs he’d been working with in the pharmacy. Ryuu had been keeping him busy, making him work and ignoring the brand that sometimes peeked out from the edge of his shirt if Obi stretched up too high. Ryu said they all had scars and secrets, judging someone on something that happened to them seemed pointless. Someone couldn’t help it if the world caved in on them, all a person could do was help. Shirayuki had never been prouder in her life.

“I… I don’t know how to move without music.” Her words stuck in her throat, as if everything was suddenly too dry. “Show me… how you do it?”

His eyes widened in surprise before he let his expression soften, and Shirayuki felt his fingers twitch against her hips. It little snap of movement that reminded her this was new to him too. He trailed his hands up to her waist, and Shirayuki began to feel her mind wander, falling back into all the thoughts of what it would feel like with no barrier between them. She wanted to feel his skin against hers in a way that wasn’t polite or a courtesy. But… it was such an awful idea.

Obi was still in a vulnerable place, not just with the castle he lived in, but with himself as well. He was still technically a slave, and what could she do but protect him? If either of them gave into these feelings then would it feel as though she was taking advantage of him? She knew that whatever happened, she wanted it to be his decision. She wanted him to free and in control of his own life before anything else. She wanted to give him his autonomy back, it was the least she could do.

But, still… this was complicated.

“Do you think that’s wise, Miss?” His lips brushed against her ear, that note of humor melting into something darker and dangerous. That note was appearing more and more each day, little words and sounds that were secreted into the cracks of their conversations, and “If you dance like me - if you put on a performance - then you’ll likely enchant all the men even more. And then what will Master say when everyone’s eyes are on you?”

Shirayuki felt her laughter bubble up from a space just under her heart, and a smile spread across her lips. That anyone would consider her enchanting was an absurd idea, and no amount of teasing from him would change that. Her hands rested over his own, fingers still pressing against the soft curve of her waist, and she turned to look at him.

Oh. Too… too close.

Shirayuki felt her nose bump up against the curve of his jaw, his stubble dragging against her cheek. Everything seemed to focus to a point, sharp and painful, and Shirayuki couldn’t stop the rush of breath escaping in one, harsh sound. She felt Obi’s fingers twitch, as if he was unsure about what he should be doing or if he should let her go. Their world seemed to tumble end-over-end, and they were both left clinging to each other to try and keep themselves together.

“I… ah…”

“It’s…” He swallowed, the sound rumbling between them. “It’s getting late.” Next to her ear, his voice sounded like gravel. It was dark low, and rumbled down her spine like a warning. “You have a busy day tomorrow.”

Did she? She couldn’t remember.

“I suppose you’re right.” Her hand moved to rest on his chest, just above his heart, and she could feel him twitch involuntarily. As still and calm as he tried to be, there were still little responses that told her that he was just as confused as she was. There were real and definitive boundaries between them that they couldn’t just ignore, but each minute they spent together felt as though these boundaries were crumbling. Obi trusted her now, more than he trusted anyone else, and she could feel them broth growing closer, but she didn’t fully realize how close they were until now - when it was too late to stop her feelings.

“Miss…” His voice was a plea for something he couldn’t say out loud - a private thought he kept locked in the back of his mind.

Her eyes closed and Shirayuki took a half-step back, breaking the contact between them as if she had severed it with a knife. “G-good night.” She tried to smooth out her skirt, as if the movement would help make things easier for her and give her some semblance of control. “I… I’ll see you tomorrow, Obi.”

She could feel his eyes on her as she made her way to her bedroom door, the weight of his stare slowing her movements. Shirayuki paused at the threshold, her hand resting against the wood of the door. If she stood here long enough, maybe fate would make a different decision for her. Maybe there wouldn’t have to be this space between them again.

Obi moved toward his own door, his steps slow and drawn-out. “Sweet dreams, Miss.”

Shirayuki closed her eyes and pushed open the door to her room, allowing herself one moment of sanctuary before it felt as if her world exploded.

#obiyukibingo #bellydancer au #or whatever #obiyuki #Obi is an -entertainer- who happens to dance #so... I BLURRED THOSE LINES REAL HARD #sorry #tried my best #here's a dumpster fire #you're welcome??????????

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girl-next-door-writes · 7 years

Text

A Little Comfort

Characters: Kirk X Reader

Summary: Space, where nobody can hear you scream but apparently your Captain can hear you silently sobbing from three decks away. The question is, what is he going to do about it.

Word Count: 1765 words

Prompt: A request from the wonderful @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester for a little fluffy Kirk. This one does feature someone suffering from anxiety so if that’s a trigger for you please steer clear.

A/N: I am a terrible friend and this has taken me far too long to write.

You had been all right for a while, even thought you might have kicked this stupid anxiety’s ass but then it came back like a fucking tsunami. During the day you could smile and pretend everything was fine, that your insides weren’t threatening to implode, that every noise was just a little too loud, that it felt as if the walls were closing in. It was kinda working. True, you spent most of your night curled up in a ball and crying, but during the day nobody seemed to have noticed the dark circles beneath your eyes or your lack of appetite. That was until you practically ran face first into your Captain. You had been rushing down the corridor, eager to get back to your station after being called to medical and hadn’t noticed Kirk doing practically the same thing in the opposite direction. You collided and as the apologies began to flow automatically from you he placed a hand on your arm causing you to pause mid-sentence and look up into those enchanting blue eyes of his. Seriously, how the hell were they so blue? “Hello.” He said simply and you could feel the tears begin to well up behind your eyes. In a panic you simply nodded, averting you gaze, and scooted around him to scurry off on your way. This was not the reaction Jim had expected and as he watched you go he wondered how he had never noticed you before.

From that moment on he had you under surveillance. Whenever you entered the room he was in his eyes automatically darted over to you and over the next few weeks those little things you were so glad nobody had picked up on had not gone unnoticed by an increasingly concerned Captain. He didn’t want to ask you outright, in fact he hadn’t exchanged a single word with you since that brief hello. So, Jim being Jim went to quiz Bones.

“Medical information is confidential and even if it wasn’t I’m not about to give out personal information Jim.” McCoy pursed his lips and raised an eyebrow at Kirk. This wasn’t the first time the Captain had taken a shine to a crew member and attempted to glean a little more information to improve his chances. “If you’re so interested then go talk to the girl. Crazy I know but a little communication can go a long way.”

“This from the most emotionally guarded man on this ship, and that’s saying something.” Kirk folded his arms across his chest and looked appraisingly at Bones, wondering if there was any way he could get his friend to change his mind.

“You do realise I can and will use this hypo on you.” The cantankerous medic mused as he rolled his fingers over his implement of choice. Excusing himself, Jim backed out of the room and bounded down the corridor wondering what he could do to find out more about you.

He had been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t realised he had been wandering aimlessly and when he did stop to figure out where he was Jim discovered he was deep within the living quarters area. Furrowing his brow, he wondered how he had ended up here when a noise caught his attention. If the corridor hadn’t been so deathly quiet he may have missed what sounded like a sob. Standing frozen to the spot he tilted his head and strained to listen. Again, there was a stifled sob and he turned towards it. After a few minutes of this he found himself outside a door and now he was certain someone was in distress he decided that, as he was the Captain of this ship, he should just go in and make sure everything was alright.

The door opened but you didn’t even react. Curled up on your bed in a tight ball, your arms wrapped around yourself as you cried into your pillow you were unaware that someone was there. The room was gloomy but Kirk could make out your shape gently heaving with each breath. Not knowing who he had stumbled across cautiously moved closer and knelt down by the bed. Carefully placing a hand upon your shoulder, he quietly spoke. “Hey.” Your head shot up and the surprise on both of your faces as you recognised the other had your panic rising. Scrambling to sit up you wanted to scream, to yell for him to get out, but you couldn’t make a sound. Instead the sobbing just increased ten-fold until Kirk began to wonder where all the water came from. Moving to sit next to you on the bed he pulled you into his arms and rested his chin on top of your head. Making soft calming noises he ran his hand in small circles over your arm and you pressed your face against his chest. The warmth of him was reassuring and you could hear his heartbeat as you tried to match his breathing. Jim sat there silently wondering what the hell could have happened to put you in this state. He had been the cause of many a girl in tears but comforting one was a whole different matter. Feeling useless and a little out of his depth he asked if you needed anything, should he go get Bones? The furious shaking of your head and the death grip you had on his shirt made him give out a low chuckle. “Okay, no medical. Has someone upset you?” again, a shake of your head and he frowned. That was him all out of ideas. “You want to talk about it?” he asked hesitantly and once again was greeted by a shaking of your head. “Okay.” He said quietly, pulling you closer to him with one arm while he grabbed your blanket with the other. Wrapping you up like a burrito he sat and held you until he felt your fall asleep. It took him a little while longer to leave, he still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of all this and he was as confused as hell.

Wanting to help you somehow, he sought out Leonard again. Using a whole load of ‘hypotheticals’ that the good doctor could see right through he discovered that there was a good chance the answer he was searching for was anxiety. Kirk spent a good few hours discussion this with Bones, what caused it, what could be done about it, what to do if someone was having an anxiety attack. Armed with all the information he could get he decided to let you sleep and drop in on you tomorrow.

Jim showed up at your door at the same time each evening like clockwork with a warm drink and a few film suggestions. He would take a deep breath and show himself in only to find you curled up on your bed, your head buried in your pillow. Each time he would place the drinks down carefully and slowly, cautiously, he would kick off his shoes and sit on your bed leaning against the headboard before pulling you into him. He would sit there in silence just stroking your hair until he felt your breathing become steady and then he would encourage you to sit up and drink whatever delight he had brought for you that night. He would tell you about his day, unload a little of his stress where he could and you would just listen. Not in a distracted way, he could actually feel your interest in what he was saying. Jim would then put on a film and just hold you until he felt your head grow heavy and a gentle snore emit from you. With a fond smile, he kissed the top of your head, tucked you in and then left.

Time marched as it tends to do and with each visit from the concerned Captain you found the black cloud that seemed to follow you disperse somewhat. Little things here and there were indicators that you were coming out the other side and you could breathe a little easier. You realised you no longer needed to fake laugh when someone made a joke and just the thought of a certain blue eyed boy caused the corners of your mouth to twitch up, bringing a genuine smile to your lips.

As Jim walked into your room one evening he realised something was different. You weren’t in your usual position on the bed and for one moment it threw him completely, he even wondered if he had the right room, and then you appeared from the behind him with a warm beverage in your hand and a bright smile on your face. Ever since you had woken up that morning you hadn’t felt the yawning abyss of desolation that usually greeted you. In fact, you would say that today had been a good day. “Hi.” You smiled directly at him and his heart skipped several beats. Your eyes lit up with such joy and any hint of fatigue seemed to have long since disappeared and it struck him again just how beautiful you were.

“Hi.” He finally managed to breathe out as you watched him in curious amusement.

“You want a drink? How was your day?” He could do nothing but stare after you as you wandered away to the replicator to get him a drink. It was as if you were a totally different person and it wasn’t that he didn’t like this, you being happy an all, he just felt a little redundant. Over the past few weeks he had actually quite liked being needed, especially being needed by you, on such an intimate level. Of course, he knew he was needed by the entire crew but holding you in his arms, being there to let you know everything would be okay, he hadn’t realised how much he had needed that too.

“Well, I… I should go since you don’t need me?” his words came out more of a question than a statement, a part of him still hopeful that you did need him as much as he had grown to need you.

“No!” The word left your lips rather quickly and your cheeks flushed a little. “I mean, if there’s somewhere else you’d rather be then…”

“No. Nowhere I’d rather be.” He smiled brightly at you, taking the drink from your hands and making his way over to his usual position on the bed. Kicking off his shoes he relaxed back against the headboard. “So, what are we watching tonight?”

Tag: @deanxfuckingadorablexwinchester @nea90sweetie @knittingknerdy @feelmyroarrrr @vintagevalentinexx @goody2shoessmut @cojootromuelle @palaiasaurus64 @rosa-kirk

#myfic #something i wrote #Kirk x Reader #Kirk

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reesebird · 5 years

Photo

New Post has been published on https://reesebird.com/2019/02/03/aunt-is-letting-my-grandmother-suffer-but-my-dad-and-other-aunt-who-have-tried-to-stop-have-become-apathetic-warning-long/

Aunt is letting my grandmother suffer but my dad and other aunt who have tried to stop have become apathetic. Warning: Long

Okay, so this is going to be kinda long and very venty. Also, I don’t know even know if this is even the best place for this post but no other subreddit seemed appropriate so sorry in advance if this isn’t the best sub for this.

Let me preface this story with a description of the main characters as well as facts you may find pertinent. Our main cast is as follows:

OP: Me!!! I am the 20 something graduate student who serves as mostly as a silent protagonist (at least up until the recent events we will get to – stay tuned! )

My Grandmother (GM) : The victim of the saga. She practically half-raised me for the first half of my life as my mom spent long hours finishing her graduate degree and my dad’s work required him to travel a lot. As a result, an open secret of the family is that I am her favorite. Virtually any family member will inform of you of this. I love her to the moon and back.

My Dad: The initially outspoken yet eventually aggressively-apathetic protagonist of the saga. He cares about GM but the drama that ensues with the main antagonist has pushed him to feel as if there is nothing he can do about it.

The Antagonist Aunt: Our antagonist. She has the legal power of attorney for GM. As a result of recent events concerning GM, I have come to despise her and refer to her in conversation only as Aunt Bitch (AB) in the story. Truth be told, she likely meant well at the beginning. And she still might (at least in her mind). Whatever the case, whether due to selfishness or delusion, she is basically letting GM suffer rather than let the family bring in Hospice/the equivalent of Hospice to let her go where she needs to go.

The Other Aunt (OA) : She knows my dad is right. But this Aunt basically says whatever she has to say in order to appease the person she is talking to. I.e., when talking with my dad she will agree AB is indeed a bitch. When talking with AB, she will throw dad under the bus and say he is an asshole and in the wrong.

My mom: My poor mother, who has enough stress in her life. She loves her mother in law dearly and knows the treatment AB is allowing to be given is torture. She has become particularly upset with dad’s increasingly apathetic and hopeless attitude towards convincing AB that she is in the wrong.

And that is our main cast. There are other characters but we will introduce them as we go along. So, if you have read this far, without further ado, let’s get to the story. I will summarize past events as quickly as possible.

About 5 years ago, it became clear to everyone that GM needed to move into an assisted living facility. This was especially clear to me and my parents. Indeed, GM lived across the street from us so we had near daily interaction with her. GM was very obviously not eating well. The only she did were rancid salads and hotdogs (which AB purchased for her – at the time AB would grocery shop for her every week). So my parents started either just having her eat at our house or just brought her food. She would wolf down any such food – which of course she did; GM was probably starving! In addition to this, GM started to do a lot of strange things (very characteristic of a person with the beginning stages of Demnita and/or alheimzers – which to this day AB has refused to let her be diagnosed with)

Now, I actually lied when I said it was apparent to everyone that GM needed to move into an assisted living home. You see, according to AB “Oh, she’s always ate little. And she’s always ate hotdogs and salads.” In two words, “she’s fine.” Take note of these two words. They will be uttered many times. Throughout all of this, my dad and OA mostly tried to handle AB (who remember is the one with the legal power of attorney and has the final say in what happens). In other words, I kept my mouth shut.

Fast forward roughly six months later. Somehow the family decides it will be a good idea to have GM go live with OA for a while. However, it did take quite a bit of fighting with AB to convince her that this would be a good thing. OA lives a few hours away in a completely different state. While there GM got much needed nutrition (at least we think good enough of OA to think this).

For a while, it was a good thing. However, while with OA, GM had a surgery (nothing too major or scary). A few days following this, while with OA, GM freaked the fuck out. Like literally freaked the fuck out. I am not going to go into explicit details. She was never the same after this. After this event, the signs of dementia were screaming out loud. Of course, AB refused to let her be diagnosed with it. Indeed, she would snap at anyone who suggested it and also – according to my dad – snapped at the family doctor when he tried to suggest it.

This feels like an appropriate place to take an intermission to interject the following: compassion is important. Up to this point I have portrayed AB in a very negative light. This is by design. But make no mistake. I can understand why – at least I think I can understand why. For one thing, we’re talking about AB’s mother. Who she does love dearly. Furthermore, I don’t think it’s a stretch to say AB might be afraid of what her future holds based on what happens to her mother. That is, in her mind she may have the following thought process: If GM is never diagnosed with dementia, then I can never be diagnosed with dementia). Do note I am well aware of the absurdity of this thought process. Finally, as AB has the legal power of attorney, AB likely feels as if she has a great weight on her shoulder – that every decision she makes will be scrutinized. You might contend that this is true l. But even up to this point my dad and OA had made it clear to AB that they don’t want her to feel like that. All they want is for AB to include them and consult them on decision making (which she had not – and still does not). In contrast, she does stuff on her own and then often reports her decisions – much to the disappointment of dad and OA.

So, GM is brought back to her home state. At this point it is even clear to AB that GM cannot go on living on her own. Now mind you, a year prior she should not have been living on her own. But as stated above, AB just straight up ignored everyone’s thoughts. Even so, GM finally gets moved into assisted living.

At this point in this very unfortunate and sad saga, decisions regarding GM’s health did not come up as much – and those that did were minor. Rather, the decisions that came to impasses due to AB’s behavior regarding things concerning the future. I will only detail one major one. You see, when we moved GM into assisted living it was quite clear she would never live by herself again. Quite sad. But assisted living is where she needed to be. So bittersweet. Now, most families might begin talks to discuss what to do with GM’S home and assets. However, if you brought this up to AB she would snap right back at you and say something along the lines of “You’re just trying to hurry her up to the grave! This is only temporary!” And why did AB say things like this? Well, in her words, “She’s fine.” Oh GM was fine alright. You know. Aside from having to use a walker, needing help bathing and going to the bathroom, not being able to cook, having trouble remembering to take her medicine, calling us in the middle of the night sometimes freaked out because she had forgotten where she was, etc.” Oh yes. She was indeed, fine, I guess you could say. Long story short, GM was in assisted living for two full years before AB finally relented to putting GM’s house on the market. Of course, mortgage payments as well as various expenses for standard home maintence had to be spent during these two years. What a shame this money could not have been put to better use. Throughout all of this up to this point, I – of course – kept my mouth mostly shut – especially in the presence of AB who I carefully walked on eggshells around.

Before going further, as you might suppose, dad and OA were really starting to have it with AB. Any important decision that needed to be made, AB just kept putting off due to her defense that “She’s fine.” Well, fine as long as you consult AB. Consult anyone else – including any decent medial doctor, she was very much NOT fine. While my dad did have some choice words with AB from time to time, nothing too dramatic occurred as dad (along with OA) felt as if the “nice, compassionate” method would be the best to sway AB.

Our story now takes a dire turn. Recall this approximately two years into GM living in assisted living. Days after visiting GM in assisted living I am now back at college preparing a presentation for a paper of mine accepted to a conference. Day of the trip to the conference I receive a call from my mom. GM: the assisted living people had found her virtually non responsive and had her sent to the hospital. Well actually, to be correct, my parents had been informed that GM had this “episode” TWO DAYS AFTER THE FACT. Oh yeah. Recall, AB has the legal power of attorney. As a result, she is the person contacted in such an incident. And despite everything up to this point, OA and dad still “trusted” AB to an extent to where I suppose they assumed AB would immediately contact them in such a situation. You can rest assured dad and OA were pissed over this. Following GM’s stay in the hospital, she would be sent to a nursing home. She would never return to assisted living. Moreover, this began a revolving door between the hospital and nursing home.

For the first 3 months at the nursing home, GM was as “fine” as could be expected. That is, she was certainly NOT fine. But it’s not like she was in severe pain or suffering. Furthermore, she could feed herself – to an extent. Make no mistake, she needed help here and there. Even so, she was mostly bed-ridden; unable to walk or transport herself.

After about 3 months or so, GM has another “episode” (AB’s term not mine). AB did contact dad and OA about this one immediately. Still though, in regards to medical details, we never got any from AB. And by this point, dad and OA were so fed up their anger had turned to apathy and did not press doctors for information. This angered my mom, who tried to find stuff out on her own. But she couldn’t – because she was not considered immediate family. So, she asked AB for details. AB simply told her “She’s fine.” Oh, and lest I forgot she also tacked a new favorite phrase: “Her vitals are good.” In case you were wondering, I still stayed silent. Don’t worry though. We’re gonna hear me speak soon enough.

A few more “episodes” like this left GM worse and worse. Memory getting worse and worse to the point where she eventually didn’t know anyone. About a year and a half ago GM became 100% unresponsive. No talking. No eating. No walking. Completely bed ridden with a blank stare (she doesn’t track any movement at all). Well, at least according to most everyone. AB of course disputes this and says she talks all the time and watches TV. “She’s fine. Her vitals are good.” I’ll just tell you up front that this is bullshit.

Now, when GM stopped eating the nursing home gave her a feeding tube. Completely normal. We all agreed – including AB – that this would be temporary. If she didn’t get better, in a few months the family would begin discussions to “pull the plug.” Doctors and the nursing home people agreed this was the best course of action.

Pop quiz: Do you think GM got any better? Answer: No! In fact, she only got worse and worse!

Pop Quiz: Do you think AB kept her word to begin discussions of pulling the plug? Answer: Of course not!

So, for about 9 months GM progressively suffered more and more. You might note that according to what doctors have told us that feeding tubes are typically only used for 6 months to a year. Any longer than that is clearly life support.

Just a few months shy of a year of having the feeding tube in, the feeding tube came out due to clogging. GM was sent to the hospital to have it put back in. This happened two more times. The fourth time dad and OA made AB agree that if it came out again that we would NOT have it put back in.

Pop Quiz: When the feeding tube inevitably came out again, do you think AB kept her promise!? Answer: NOPE!

My dad was livid upon finding out (AB kept him in the dark for a few days when it came out again). This begun a near year long standoff between my dad and AB. They did not speak to each other for nearly a year – the silence being broken about a week ago due to events we will get to.

During this standoff, dad and AB primarily communicated to each other via OA. My mom became progressively disillusioned with my dad due to all this. My dad just appeared to stop caring. According to him “what could he do – he had tried everything and had got nowhere.” Save for layering up (which my family just doesn’t have the funds for), my dad and OA had indeed tried quite a bit over the years. And my dad had just given up.

At one point during this standoff my grandmother was sent to the hospital yet again. My dad was not informed of this until a week later. His head went through the roof. Yet, he refused to do anything. He was content with aggressive apathy.

Let us now enter the present. About a week ago, my grandmother went into the hospital again. However this time, things looked bad. So bad in fact that AB ended the standoff and informed my dad. So we all visited her. This really looked like the end. Now, mind you as a result of all this we have thought it was the end about 3 different times. And to be honest, things would have been for the best if the first time would have been the end. In a sense, AB has stolen our ability to mourn normally. Even so, this time did look particularly bad.

Well, as might have been implied by now, for whatever reason GM’s body is one hell of a fighter. Despite the fact that she is basically a corpse, as AB says “her vitals are good” and indeed, they just flat out refuse to go out without a fight.

So GM now lies in a hospital bed yet again. Suffering profusely yet again. While everyone in the family wants the suffering to end, AB refuses.

A final interjection: years ago, in the living room of the house I grew up with when GM was in good health, GM made my dad promise that he would never let her suffer and lie like a corpse in a nursing room. She also requested the same promise from me. Part of what has pained my dad through all of this is that he feels as if he has broken this promise. And I feel like I have as well.

Now we get to the real drama. If you have read up to this point then I thank you. Your reward is the following drama. Though please note I take no pleasure in any of it. At the end of the day, I just want what’s best for my grandmother.

So, yesterday my mom calls the hospital and just happened got to speak to the right person. They informed her the doctor overseeing her care at the hospital had requested a meeting with AB and family members. Had my mom not made this call, we would have never known about this meeting. You are goddamn right all of us had our asses there (well save for OA – remember she lives in another state).

When we walked into the hospital room and AB saw us there she nearly fucking shat herself. Now, up to this point, I had stayed silent. No longer. While waiting for the doctor to get there, it was quite clear there was tension in the room. Yet, everyone was going to be content – including mom and dad – to ig ore the elephant in the room.

I however, had had enough. So I let AB fucking have it. I immediately started in by telling her that she had spent the past two years trying to deceive all of us. I let her know that GM is in fact NOT FINE. I let her know GM would be horrified if she could she herself like this. I let her know she had put off the wishes of dad and OA.

AB immediately went on the defnisve. First trying to make some argument about how I “should watch myself boy.” I quickly reminded her that I am in fact a 20 something year old male and that this is my grandmother we’re talking about and that I have a dog in this race just as much as everyone else.

Aside: My parents knew I was pissed up to this point with AB, but they had NO IDEA I was going to unleash all this truth.

AB then tried to defend herself by saying she had been the one going to the nursing home most days doing everything. I quickly snapped back and let her know that this was solely because she outright refused for anyone else to have any input.

At this point my mom jumped in, reminding AB that I was GM’S favorite and that I do have a right to get involved. Then my dad jumped in and started elaborating on my points. It was as if me speaking the truth made dad and mom feel free to speak their truths as well.

I Continued to list out every single lie we were aware of AB making. AB proceeded to make an excuse for everything. She then started telling it was wrong of us to talk about this in front of GM to which my dad exploded “BULLSHIT AB GM HASN’T BEEN RESPONSIVE FOR TWO YEARS.” Indeed, GM just layed there lifelesslly in the hospital bed with a blank stare. As a nurse put it, it’s like the lights are on but nobody’s home. I finished up by letting AB know how upsetting all her ” she’s fine” and “her vitals are good” were to everyone.

Then the doctor came in. Now, the reason the doctor had called this meeting was primarily to convince AB that Hospice is the only correct path forward. My dad made a point to ask the doctor “is there any chance GM will ever get any better.” The doctor replied that while they normally try to be optimistic, that “no. We have tried everything, sent GM to every specialist possible, and yet GM only gets worse and worse.” AB tried to dispute this. The doctor then started listing things off. Two of these things were of particular note:

First, the doctor noted that TWO YEARS ago GM showed severe signs of brain atrophy (in basic terms, her brain is basically shrinking). NO ONE IN THE FAMILY HAD EVER BEEN INFORMED OF This. Moreover, AB, the person with the power of attorney swears she never knew this. As my dad put it to her last night: bullshit.

Second, GM had apparently showed signs of bleeding in the GI Tract. This is of significance because a few days ago the hospital had taken out her feeding tube as it appeared dirty with blood. So they were going to do some tests. A day or two later, we ask AB about the test and she says “oh no. There was no bleeding. It just turned out to be dirty.” SO BASICALLY AB WAS CAUGHT RIGHT IN A FUCKING LIE.

The night’s events ended with AB agreeing to consult with Hospice about finally bringing in Hospice. The Hospice people were to call her the next day (I.e., today). Furthermore, my dad made it clear he wanted to be involved on the call.

Pop Quiz When the Hospice people called AB today, do you think she contacted my dad to get him on the line? Answer: NOPE!

Now, upon hearing this a few hours ago I absolutely blew the fuck up. I asked dad if he bitched AB out. He basically said no. That he had once again given up. AB gonna do what AB gonna do. My response: Bullshit. This shit is going to end.

So I called AB myself. My mom witnessed the phone conversation. I Immediately called AB out on going against my dad. This set off a nerve apparently. She proceeded to scream (I mean literally scream at the top of her lungs) at me over the phone. Some of the things she screamed:

“NOW YOU BETTER GET A HOLD OF YOURSELF BOY!” (note the derogatory “boy” implying that I am basically a kid and have no say in the situation)

“I’M TIRED OF HEARING ALL THIS SHIT FROM YOU ALL”

“LISTEN TO ME RIGHT NOW BOY”

As my mom can attest, I may have raised my voice here and there throughout this phone. But I stayed as calm as humanly possible. In contrast to AB, I did not utter a single curse word. The same can not be said of her (note the “shit” in the second example above).

Even so, I really let into her I. This conversation. I quickly brought up the brain atrophy and the bleeding in the GI Tract. Regarding the former she “swears she never knew.” To which I replied that “I don’t believe it and if it is true then that just underscores how unfortunate it is that she has the power of attorney.” Regarding the latter, she says the doctor had told her there was no bleeding. So I asked her point blank: “so are the doctors telling you and dad different things? Because that what it seems like.”

This went on and on. Meanwhile I regularly interjected that it pained me to even make this phone call – that GN wouldn’t want this. Even so, GM is the most important person in the whole situation. I went on to note to her that she should feel singled out as I am equally fed up with dad’s and OA’s apathy. That said, I let her know that everything I was saying was what everyone thought – it’s just that I for whatever reason am the only one with the Gaul to call her out on her lies.

The call ended with me telling her “Well I guess I’ll see you in another 6 months to a year when we’re back in the hospital yet again due to your mishandling of all this.”

And so, this brings us to the end of this saga so far. My GM still suffers. The family is being torn apart. In all likelihood, AB will ignore everyone’s wishes yet again. And worst of all, I have broken a promise to GM. And for this, I will never forgive AB for this.

Tbh I don’t know why I posted this. I’m not necessarily looking for advice or anything. I will say putting all this in words has been cathartic. To anyone who read all this, thanks. Or sorry. Idk. This whole fucking situation sucks. Moreover, there is no winner in any of this. The only thing that matters is GM and this whole situation has been nothing but torture for her I know. Even if AB started cooperating tomorrow, that doesn’t change the fact that GM has been made to suffer for two long years.

Well wait. Why end the story there. Minutes ago my dad received a call from AB. She just wanted him to know that the hospital had to take out the feeding yet again. Even so, “she’s fine and her vitals are good.”

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mobius2684 · 7 years

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Not so quick rundown of what I have been up to

Basically why I haven’t been doing much in the posting/content department, broken down by month. For the tl;dr crowd: skip the october 2016 entry unless you want to read about some drama, the rest of it has just been my adventures with unemployment and how it has affected me for the past 8 months.

July 2016: This month I had lost my job of 8 years due to the company completely closing nationwide. First time ever filing for unemployment as I wasn’t able to find another job in 3 months since said company announced their closures on April 1st of the same year. Was really upset with the store closing as I really was starting to feel like I had a job that I was decent at, had met some great people working there both employee and customer, and now I wouldn’t really have a chance to interact with them as much. Went to San Diego comic con as I had purchased tickets well in advance. Didn’t get to do most of what was on my list of things to do there, but did get to have a personalized sketch done by Yoji Shinkawa as well as sit in on a small q&a session with Hideo Kojima.

August 2016: With unemployment filed and completed, I was looking for all sorts of work. I collected a lot of possible work via etsy with requests for new destiny cloaks as well as preparing for the halloween season for my goddaughters’ costumes as they live in another state than me. End of the month I ended up with a job offer from the lady who works at the storage unit I rent from. The lady had injured herself at the end of the month by fracturing her right arm in 2 places, making it unbearable to do any of her bookkeeping tasks, and asked if I would like to help her with. I said yes as she’s 73 years old and nobody should have to deal with working through that kind of pain.

September 2016: I started to work for the storage unit place the day after labor day. It was an easy job, just somewhat boring as it was a fairly archaic setup. All bookkeeping was done by hand, including receipts, ledgers, etc. Only the key card system for the gate was done via a computer program. This job was to be temporary while she healed. When she was well enough to work, I would be let go as its a one person operation. Also to note, most storage unit places typically have a home/condo/apartment built into the office, as there is someone always on the premises. This was the case with this place, so I was able to take care of her in the beginning as well as do the tasks at hand. This was also a full time job.

I started to get a bunch of early etsy orders for the holiday season as well as for halloween, so on top of having a full time job, I had to also work my etsy part time on top of the halloween costumes for my goddaughters. I had an old acquaintance contact me out of the blue around this time as well, where she told me that she was planning on visiting close to me to see some friends she met while playing Destiny. At the time I was happy for her and excited as I hadn’t seen her physically in about 10 years and figured this might be a great trip for her to show her around my hometown and the surrounding area and just catch up. More on her in October. Finished this month with a very last minute run to see Carpenter Brut in concert. Literally found out about the concert 2 hours before they went on so drove as quickly as I could to DNA lounge. Definitely was worth it, excellent show all around.

October 2016: This one is a long one. Skip to November if you don’t want an essay about old acquaintance. I’m needed for another month to work at the storage unit place. I have had to help her with things that I was not prepared for, mainly of the medical type. She is diabetic and has survived both lung cancer and colon cancer. I am becoming more of her in-home care person on top of taking care of the expected duties of the job, which was starting to put a strain on things as I would simply work my 8 hours a day for 6 days a week, most of that was taking care of her, going home, taking care of my grandparents, and sewing and working on etsy until I needed to sleep, rinse, repeat. I get the goddaughters costumes made and out to them, they love them, as well as another friend of mine wanted me to make matching dad and son costumes for his son’s first halloween.

Made his son a pikachu costume and Dad an Ash jacket. Also near the end of this month I got to see Magic Sword in concert. It was a bit of a bummer as the venue was ill-equipped to handle a show like theirs so we didn’t get the whole experience with the lights and background, on top of the fact that the sound guy was doing a lousy job so they didn’t come out for an encore and simply stopped playing halfway through “In the face of Evil”. Hoping that they’ll come out to SF again or somewhere closeby so I can see a full show. *skip to november 2016 to avoid massive drama backstory essay

Middle of the month is when my old friend was due to come out to visit. A little background on said friend: I met her back in 2005 when I was just starting to get into cosplay. We would chat about similar interests as well as cosplay related things, despite there being an age difference of about 6-7 years. She’s had a few hardships in 2006 that was of her own doing which led her down a path of co-dependence on others as well as manipulation and always playing the victim. Our communication was spotty, her only surfacing when she felt like it, always to unload her stories of woe and hardship.

I had tried to help her on several occasions as best as I could despite being several states away. I’d send care packages when I could afford to, mainly of food as she would talk about not having money for it, work screwing her out of hours, etc. I would also send old clothes as she lived in a much colder part of the country now and she was ill prepared for the winter in her state. I had commissioned her for a costume just to help her pay bills despite said commission being extremely late for the event it was needed for, and practically unwearable due to poor construction. I had sent her money when she was in between relationships and had no job. Simply put, I was there for her as much as I could be, but she wasn’t really reciprocating that over the years and at the time I wasn’t really able to see it.

Fast forward to the week she is coming out here. She fails to tell me that her friend that she is visiting is more of a romantic interest. She’s in a 3 year relationship with a guy she’s living with. She has also been talking with another guy who she plays Destiny with in a romantic way, so basically she’s got 2 possible love interests and a boyfriend at home that she doesn’t want to work things out with, but also doesn’t want to break up with just yet as if she does then she won’t have a place to live. Trying not to judge but also not really liking said situation as its pretty scummy of her. The weekend before her trip, said friend she’s supposed to be visiting with for a week upsets her majorly and is now not a possible romantic connection in her mind, but is not known by him as she doesn’t tell him that she’s upset with him because she’s now too invested in this trip.

She comes out here and gets to stay with him at his parents place. She has a list of things she wants to do while out here, but wants to do them in a certain order so she has money for said things. Understandable, but makes it a bit difficult as she expects both myself and her host to take her places and keep her entertained. A lot of suggestions get shot down as she doesn’t like doing said things, but has to realize that there aren’t many free things to do during the weekdays. She gets increasingly frustrated by her host and his family for doing the most mundane things despite letting her stay there for free as well as feeding her, considering she is in the heart of wine country as well as the heart of dubious airbnb country where they could have easily charged her a premium for staying with them. She feels entitled to her friends money, as many times I would get a text from her complaining about him not paying for her part of their outing. She would also get upset with him when he would ask who she would be on the phone with, as she was in contact with said other guy who she liked from Destiny. This would irritate me as I felt as if she was ungrateful and somewhat disrespectful, on top of the fact that I was juggling a full time job, my etsy as a part time job, and taking care of both my grandparents and this lady at the storage unit.

I take her out to SF so we can catch up and just have some girl time, despite really not having the time to do so, on top of it being an extremely busy weekend in SF as fleet week was happening. She didn’t really talk much with me on the trip unless it was to complain about her friend and to tell me how excited she was to talk with the new guy she liked. I would try to talk about what’s been going on with my life, only to be met with segues into something else completely different or just changing the subject. Not a lot of catching up, she spent a good chunk of her money on items for herself as to be expected, with snide remarks on how nobody really gets her gifts. This kinda pissed me off as I had spent at least 2 weeks on a knitted scarf for her as well as a small messenger bag that I sewed for her for this trip. I take her back to her friends parents place and go home.

A few days after our outing, my grandpa had a stroke episode while I was home on my lunch break that scared both myself and my grandma. Had to rush him to the ER, had to contact work and let her know what’s going on and why I’m not back, work was supportive and just closed up early for the day for me as I wasn’t sure how long we would be in the ER. I’m getting texts from my friend of her complaining that this guy wasn’t paying for her outing once again. I simply texted her back stating “I am at the ER right now with my grandpa and grandma, grandpa had a stroke episode and we’re trying to see how severe it is”. I get no reply back from her for 2 hours. I simply chalk it up to her being busy, or one of us being in a dead zone or whatever. I didn’t have time to worry about that as I was worried about the condition my grandpa was in and just keeping my grandma calm. Thankfully it was a mild stroke, no major issues. We were at the hospital for 7 hours.

I get my grandparents back home, call work to let her know how my grandpa is doing and that I will be in tomorrow for work. Said friend texts me to complain about how crummy her trip to the aquarium went. At this point, tensions were high, but I simply sent her a message saying “I’m guessing you didn’t receive my last message that said that I was in the ER with my grandpa who had a mild stroke. I had been in the ER for about 7 hours now”. Her response was “no”. Now, if you’ve made it this far into reading this whole thing, first off thank you and congrats. Secondly, you’re probably wondering “why does this whole mini essay about this chick matter?” or something to that extent. Well I don’t know about you good people here, but normally if a friend or loved one or just someone you kinda sorta know states that they were in the ER, and they don’t work in the medical field, most people’s reactions would be “what happened?”, “is everything ok?”, “are you ok?”, “is X person ok?”, etc. ad nauseum. There was no concern shown from her. NONE. No call to see if everything is ok, no text to ask if everything is ok, NOT A GODDAMN THING.

Why is that such a big deal? Offering compassion does not cost you a damn dime. All I wanted from her was a simple act of compassion. I had not asked for much from her over the time we had been friends. Just the one time I really could use it, its just lost on her. She continues to text me to ask me if we’re still going to hang out before she leaves. I’m just left in just disbelief at the whole thing. I don’t really text her after that, stating I’m busy. She’s constantly bugging me about this, all while I’m telling her that I have family issues to tend to. I finally agree to see her again, despite wanting to rip her head off. I meet with her and the guy, and I simply tell them in person what’s going on and what happened at the ER. Her friend offered concern, all while she’s sitting there stuffing her face and changing the subject. I ask for the bag that she borrowed from me from our previous trip out, she gives it to me and I make an excuse to leave early. She still isn’t getting it, so I ask for her friends’ number. I say my goodbyes and she states that she wants to visit again sometime.

The day she’s leaving, after she’s on the plane, I text the guy she’s been staying with. I tell him during this whole trip that she essentially used him, complained about him and his family the whole time to me, that the person she was being all secretive about on the phone was some guy she likes better than you, and that she’s in a relationship with someone back home and has been with said guy for 3 years and lives with him. He was not happy about this and rightfully so as he liked her. This of course led to them both arguing, and her contacting me via text about this and why I did it. I completely ignored everything. I felt that I owed her nothing after all of this. Her last message to me was “cool beans. we don’t have to be normal about it. But thanks for betraying my confidence and trust in the first place. You’re a shit friend and I hope you’re happy with yourself. Thanks for throwing our decade long friendship out the window”. She then proceeded to remove me from facebook and any other social media that we shared.

Am I really a shit friend? Am I really a horrible person for doing these things? Did I have to do what I did? Was it worth it? I will let you draw your own conclusions as yes I know that I didn’t have to do what I did and I could have been the one who takes the high road on this, but when you’re under a lot of stress due to work and deadlines and family issues, you tend to do shitty things. I grappled with the whole thing and felt awful for doing what I did, but at the same time I felt that no amount of talking would really get through to her about how much damage had been done. In some senses I do feel like a major weight was lifted from my shoulders as I really didn’t want to have a friend who didn’t understand basic concern for others.

November 2016: Still working at the storage unit place. The lady I’m working for has not been healing well due to not listening to her doctors orders. The maintenance man that the owner hired for the place injures himself horrifically, with what I assume his shin bone is jutting out of his skin. He tells us that he slipped down a ladder and that was about it. He’s rushed to the ER by ambulance. The owner then gets his son-in-law to work for him as maintenance man to replace the injured one. Son-in-law decides to have me start on a project for him, that requires me to make an excel spreadsheet of all the tenants who rent at the storage unit with all their info.

He tells me that the owner needs this info in digital form for insurance purposes and I agree to it since it does make sense, but it detracts from my other duties with caring for the lady I’m working for as well as the other office duties. I do this anyways as it seems like they might actually change the setup there so that its not all hand-written and a bit easier to keep track of as well as back up. Etsy orders are flooding in for the early holiday rush and I’m trying to keep on top of it all.

This marks the first thanksgiving where we don’t celebrate together as a family. My grandma simply just didn’t want to put up with all the fuss, my Mom and my nephew ended up going to Las Vegas for a football championship game for my nephew as he’s been in little league football all through the fall and his team had done really well and made it to the championship game. I couldn’t go with them as I had to watch the farm, as my Mom is a caretaker of a small school district owned farm and the animals need to eat everyday. My Uncle and Aunt both work demanding jobs that they aren’t able to get many days off so they weren’t able to come down for the holidays. My brother went up to his girlfriends parents place, so it was a bit odd and slightly depressing.

Only weird highlight was that I had a short convo with Dennis Wedin on instagram and I mentioned that I hope to send him and Jonatan some little handmade gifts when I get the chance to make them.

December 2016: Still working at the storage unit place. I end up getting sick near the beginning of the month with a cold/flu. I work through it like normal, just making sure to prepare myself as best as I can at work with plenty of fluids, a blanket, a heater, meds, tissue, etc.

This time it gets interesting. Storage unit place also houses cars, trucks, and RV parking spaces. Plenty of people rent these spaces, including one guy who states that he has an old Porsche and its been back there for 10+ years. He’s hoping to restore it for his kids despite none of them being super interested in it. Well with said spreadsheet work, I’m finding a ton of discrepancies as to whom is actually in the units and spaces that they say they are. Lots of calls have to be made, lots of running through the lot to check what is where, etc. Porsche guy is one of those discrepancies, and we ask for him to come down and confirm which space he’s in.

Well apparently his Porsche is missing as it is nowhere to be found on the lot. He has his sister come down with him and she’s yelling at me and the lady I’m working for, accusing us of stealing his car. The sister then calls the cops to come down and question us. Now there’s no way in hell I or the old lady I’m working for has stolen his car. For one, I had no clue what he had until November when he came to pay his bill. For two, most of the cars that are stored at this particular storage unit place are not in running condition, his included. He had stated this back in November that it doesn’t run and needed a ton of work on it.

One cop accuses myself and the old lady as well, despite what they need to do is run the VIN, and look at the records at the DMV as to who it had been registered to. For three, the Porsche guy hadn’t even checked on his car ever since he had parked it here for 10 years. No “hey I’ve been paying for this for 10+ years and if its so important to me I should at least check on it”. The guy hadn’t non-opted his vehicle and simply stopped paying any sort of registration on the vehicle. So now I’m a week away from christmas, still sick with whatever super cold/flu that is going around, I’ve been stressed due to busting my ass on getting etsy orders out in time for christmas, working 6 days a week in the office, and now I’m being accused of grand theft auto.

After the cops finally decide to actually do some investigating, they found out that the car had been stolen in May 2012. Someone towed it off the lot that also rents at the storage unit, hence why they had access to the lot. Since he had rented the spot so long ago, the old lady didn’t remember or even know what he had back there. Since he hadn’t registered it in so long, the person who stole it got some sort of lein title for the car and fixed it to running condition as someone about 500 miles away is driving it around.

Christmas was rather uneventful as I was finally better from being sick and was trying to relax from everything. Got things for my mom and her bf as well as something for my nephew and a few friends of mine. For my birthday I went and watched Moana with my Mom. Ended up sick again as the next day I ended up throwing up. Whether it was the food or just round 2 of super cold/flu, I didn’t know but didn’t really care as I wanted it to be gone. Didn’t do much of anything for new years as I worked and so did a bunch of my friends, top it off with still being sick and not wanting to be around people and spread it around.

If you’ve made it to the end of this, I truly do thank you as it was a long bunch of bullshit that you honestly didn’t have to read and I could have summed up a lot shorter but didn’t. I hope you enjoyed this small peak into my life. I will eventually update this with January 2017 and February 2017 or just simply make a second post if anyone cares to see the rest of this out. Thanks again.

#personal #lifestory #longasfuck #thefuckwhy #tl;dr warning

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heir-to-trenwith-archive · 7 years

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It seemed that no one could tell him specifically how long she had been here. Only that she had arrived on foot, unescorted, spilling endless, incoherent nonsense, and utterly convinced of her right to await their master’s return---or rather, the incorrectly presumed coming of their master’s half-brother. Amidst her increasingly urgent demands and inane babble, the purpose of her appearance here, his servants informed him, had remained exceedingly, if not disconcertingly clear. She had come, armed with a desperation seemingly theatrical enough to upset his customarily sensible household, in search of Valentine. She had subsequently refused with great adamancy to leave, until her wish had been fulfilled. Uncertain of what to do with the resolute, hysterical mess of a girl, she had been persuaded into the winter parlor, and promptly left there until orders could be received.

Or such was their carefully chosen phrasing to him. In less flattering words, she had been left largely alone, unattended and unsupervised. Having successfully perplexed his workers into skirting around her presence, until he returned and they could be properly instructed on how to handle their uninvited, emotionally compromised guest. The recounting of this tale did not thrill or greatly impress him. However, he rationalized that it was preferable to the young woman having been irresponsibly turned away, or for the decision to disturb Amadora having been made. In the final weeks of her second confinement, she had been much fatigued and was presently taking bed rest. He would have been decidedly less forgiving had he found his wife unduly involved.

Thus, as this measure of industry had been shown, he curbed his tongue from dealing any undeserved lashings. However, his brow had nevertheless quirked rather pointedly when he was told of their visitor having been left to her own company, and the several rather incredulous, however unfulfilled statements that had left his mouth afterwards were sufficient in conveying his disapproval. With his morning outing momentarily forgotten, the parcels and trifles he’d come bearing for Amadora and Joanna were left abandoned in the hasty arms of his footman, and Geoffrey Charles made short work of the rooms and halls separating him from the winter parlor. Leaving instructions for two fresh horses to be saddled, and for Miss Carne to come and inform him once they were ready. Thankfully and mercifully, the young woman he had not come home to see, had presumably not wandered from her designated area.

He found Agneta Treneglos seated rather curiously in a chair by the window, leaning quite far back with arms draped thoughtlessly over the sides, but her knees were drawn together and her posture, though visibly sprawled, was far from relaxed. Her features were slightly flushed and she looked as though she might have been crying not long ago, though for now, her ample emotions appeared to have found another outlet and objective. He would do his best to avoid upsetting that delicate spectrum, though word of mouth and his own few previous personal encounters with her suggested that the odds were already against him. He expected this meeting would not be pleasant or brief, and that he might very well wish to strangle Valentine before it was sufficiently over and done with.

Upon stepping over the threshold, her eyes brightened with recognition and she sat forward, expression flowering into a tactless smile that showed all of her teeth. It was a noticeably vague, hopeful sort of recognition, as though it had been prompted less by his individual features, and more from the simple fact that he was a person who had entered the room. Thus allowing a few safe assumptions following his arrival to do the remaining work in her mind.

“Geoffrey!” She greeted him eagerly, with a gaze that widened and wavered, implying an inability to settle for an extended period of time. “---Vally’s brother, half-brother.” She nodded after her own words this time, spoken with equal purpose, but markedly less confidence. Too matter-of-fact to be a question, too uncertain to be a direct statement. Almost as though they had been voiced both to affirm her own knowledge, and to justify the aim of her visit. As if in saying so, she thought to explain her presence here, and subsequently obligate his own. The latter he did not necessarily believe, as it seemed far too intentional and elaborate. However, there had been a peculiar emphasis to her voice. Or---then again, perhaps there had not been.

He had no wish to disrespect the girl, and heeded Valentine’s claim that she was more perceptive than her outward behavior indicated---but even so, it seemed evident enough that her state of mind also drew no shortage of boundaries. He felt genuinely and earnestly sorry for her. But, he did not appreciate that his efforts to intervene and assist had, thus far, only succeeded in making his home and person a presumed conduit for the young woman’s ridiculous attempts to rekindle her relations with Valentine. Now that her unruliness had shaved unwelcomely close to involving his wife and daughter, he found that his mood was not particularly charitable, though he knew in truth---Agneta could not rightfully be held accountable.

Only Valentine’s unethical advancements towards her, and her parent’s evidently inefficient care and supervision could be blamed. Regardless, his teeth were placed with some measure of firmness behind his polite, tolerant smile. Her eyes had flickered past him, darting over his shoulder, her smile fading in exchange for a moment spent searching the space behind him, though her lips remained every bit as apart. “Vally will come again---? Here again---? Where is Vally---?” Her eyes continued to wander, large and blue, unable to focus; a symptom of her overflowing expectations, he presumed. Geoffrey Charles bowed his face, hands wedding behind his back.

“Miss Treneglos---this is an unexpected pleasure. I am sorry that you were made to wait.” Her long dark hair was tousled and windswept, plastered in lank waves about her face and shoulders; glistening with a sheen of moisture from the grey, stormy weather outside. A few locks remained loosely pinned atop her head, but most of them had come down and were swiftly losing their curl, adding to the disarray of her appearance. She looked at him for a moment, mouth ajar, visibly distracted by his words, as if they were not what she had expected to hear. Then, she found an opening suitable for her purpose.

“Neta has waited for Vally. A long time has been waited. Neta does not mind, though. Vally will come again, soon---?” Once more, she glanced around, the ending syllables of her words turning up hopefully. Her voice was presently light of heart, but noticeably fragile with emotion. Evidencing the delicacy of her mood.

Geoffrey Charles addressed her gently, but without ambiguity. “No. Valentine will not be calling here today, Miss Treneglos. ‘Fraid you were misinformed.” Finally she stared at him, blinked several times, and then shook her head, unkempt strands of hair slipping forward to partially obscure her features. “Vally’s half-brother’s---house. Vally comes again here, sometimes. Vally is coming again---? When---?” A note of desperation made her voice a little louder, bringing her determination to the surface. Her cheeks were flushed and traces of pink rimmed her lower lashline, contrasting the rest of her face to a pale, nervous color.

He prepared for reiteration. “---That I do not know. But it will not be today. Does anyone know where you are, Miss Treneglos?” He checked his tone of voice, endeavoring to remain patient with his sensitive, high-strung guest. She was beginning to look unhappy, clearly displeased by the continuously insinuated change of subject. However, she was not to be easily deterred, either. “---No? Neta was quite careful. Neta may go where she pleases. Geoffrey knows where Vally is---?” She employed a slight change of tactic, unsteady gaze wondering at his expression. She had edged to the end of her seat, hands gripping either side of the chair, as if to balance herself.

“---I do not, but I assure you he will not be coming here. Miss Treneglos---your parents will surely be very concerned as to your whereabouts; a young lady such as yourself should not travel unaccompanied. Would you allow me the pleasure of seeing you safely escorted home---?” This meaning she deciphered with considerably less delay, having found herself faced with similar implications quite often of late. She shook her head, with more urgency and defiance this time, expression pinching and squeezing. Her reaction came quickly, and with greater haste than he had necessarily expected.

“Neta will not! Neta has not seen Vally yet! Neta misses Vally, she waits for him, but he does not come. He used to come again very often, but now he does not. So Neta goes to find Vally instead. Geoffrey will take Neta to Vally---? Or tell Vally she is here---? When---?” She seemed to grapple with her words, little breaths and pauses breaking up her articulation. She looked very much as though she might stand up, but she did not. Her eyes were wide and glassy, though she did not cry. She released her hold on the chair and gripped at her own arms, slender fingers pressing into the partially exposed skin there; twisting and kneading, looking up and down several times.

“---Miss Treneglos, I am afraid that is not possible.” He approached her by several strides, attempting to retain both her attention and his own tolerance; knowing it would do them both a great disservice were he to become short with her now. Wordlessly cursing the situation---and all the potential backlash it threatened to insight, should he not manage to see this taken care of in a timely manner. And perhaps even then. There was no telling how long she had been away, or what measures had already been employed to locate her. His association with Valentine would not earn his involvement any understanding or gratitude.

“---You must try to consider your mother and father’s feelings on the matter. They only want what they believe to be best for you, and that is also what Valentine wants. And at this very moment, I expect they are very worried about you. Please allow me to see that you are escorted home.” But his efforts to be reasonable were sorely and entirely lost upon the willful, hysterical young woman buckling in front of him. She continued to shake her head, faster and more forcibly, irregular tremors stiffening and slackening her form. “No, no, no, no, no---Neta will not. Geoffrey must listen! Geoffrey is not listening. Neta must see Vally---she must, she must. Leave Neta be if he will not help. Vally will come again.” Her lips were trembling and her hands were clutching, desperate to hold something more than her own arms.

He hesitated, a flat breath hissing bewteen his teeth, swallowing a grimace; considering the emotionally overwrought, nonsensical girl as she pleaded and implored. There was no foreseeable end to her absurdities, and it seemed terribly unlikely that any line of reasoning would alter her perspective. Many of his sentiments failed to reach her altogether---that much was transparent. He had no wish to distress her unduly, and certainly not to create a spectacle of her coming here---God only knew what sort’ve tales she might’ve been inclined towards recounting. But, she was restricting his options with every protest that left her mouth.

“Miss Treneglos---” He crossed the remaining few paces to her, leaving only a respectful margin between them; she glanced up at him once and then promptly refused to look again. “I am afraid that I must take you home. Valentine is not coming, and even if he were, your mother and father do not wish for you to see him, and he does not wish to upset them. He cares very much for your welfare, and that is why he would want for you to return home, where you are safe. Do you understand---?” She did not understand. Or, she understood too well. Her hands flew to her face and she began to weep, despite the employed gentleness of his voice, and the evenness of his tone. Large tears spilled between her fingertips and she gasped audibly, slim shoulders drawing in as she rocked and quivered, muttering a trail of indistinct, repetitious sounding sentences.

“No---no, Miss Treneglos---” At once, Geoffrey Charles produced his handkerchief and knelt beside her chair, making several unobtrusive attempts to wipe her face and stroke her back, but she waved him away, each time with an increased vehemence. “Leave me be! Leave me be!” Her hands appeared and she slapped at his offering, emotional sounds choking from her lips, further muffled by the lank hair now sticking to her tear-strewn face, getting caught in her mouth. “Oh, God damn it...” The words were out before he could silence them. Fortunately, she seemed not to hear. He leaned back, allowing the girl her space---frustrated, at a loss. Genuinely remorseful for having upset her, but equally exasperated by it.

What else was there to be done---? She was hopeless---entirely hopeless. Dear God, what depth of a bind had Valentine created---? The prospect of physically dragging her back to her family did not appeal to him, would certainly not reflect well on any of those involved, and would make him feel quite the villain in all of this---but what else was there to be done?

Between her growing sobs and indiscernible murmurings, a few more intelligent syllables manifested. They did not assist. “Neta has n-not seen Vally is so long, so long, she w-waits but he does not come again. He does not. She must come---go, and s-see him, she must. She has walked very far, very long. Neta is so s-sad without Vally. So sad---lonely. Neta does not w-want to displease, Neta just wants to s-see Vally. She may not be missed; she is careful and q-quiet. W-where is Vally---now?” She hiccuped and coughed a little, repeating a few of her words, wiping her eyes and nose with the back of her hand; picking at the strands of hair clinging to her lips.

Geoffrey Charles looked at her---at the sorry state she was in, expression thinning out. Feeling quite badly---terribly, for that matter. Unable to avoid experiencing some semblance of responsibility, in that moment. Even though, rationally speaking, he knew that absolutely none of this could be attributed to his own doings. Well---perhaps that was not so in every respect. Certainly, this predicament had not been of his creation, and an ideal solution for the present set of circumstances likely did not exist. But, he could scarcely allow himself to believe that none of this had been avoidable, either. Evidently, his approach had not been particularly clever or prudent. However---they were here now, and something had to be done, without further delay. Each moment she remained on his estate acted against them.

“---Agneta, I’m that sorry, I sincerely am. I wish there was more I could do for you.” He ventured, hoping the name might land more kindly on her ears, and perhaps earn him some favor in her eyes. After another pause, she looked at him through her lank hair and tearful gaze, sniffling several times. He offered her an indulgent, reasonably gentle smile---and his arm, having stowed away his handkerchief. “You must be very cold, and tired. Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you home, personally---?” For the first time since his persuasions had begun, she actually appeared to contemplate his suggestion, swollen blue eyes flickering back and forth. But then they trembled, narrowed, and filled up all over again.

“He tries to trick Neta! He thinks I am very, very stupid. He should leave Neta alone! He is rude!” She tried to hit at him again, though she missed by a considerable amount, and retracted back into the chair. She said several more things about Valentine, and rubbed fitfully at her face.

Even his sincerest sympathies for her were not without their limitations. Furthermore, even his great length of understanding for her did not prevent him from feeling entirely put in the wrong---though he recognized she could not be held accountable in that regard, either. And that---in the scheme of it all, his own treatment was of little consequence. Regardless, he found his resources were proving idle and worthless. He did not have time for this. Especially when one considered that even two hours spent attempting to coax some sense into this distraught young woman, would very likely be two hours utterly wasted. Geoffrey Charles stood up.

“Would that I could, Miss Treneglos---please trust that I’ve no wish to distress or displease you, but I am afraid that for the sake of your parents, and for your own sake---it is my duty to see you escorted home. Now please---come along.” He allowed her a moment to consider, but she only turned her face away, arms folding defensively across her chest. As if hoping he would simply disappear from her life. He exhaled a deep sigh, fingertips closing over the knit of his brow, mouth creasing to a flat line. He half turned, frowning quite a bit, attempting to gather his thoughts and gesturing at nothing in particular as he did so---and finally locating some words as well. “Esther? Esther---!” He called out, eyes closing for a moment and then snapping open, hand dropping from his face.

There was no response, no signaling of footsteps. Where the devil had she gotten off to---? Surely the horses must’ve been ready by now. He glanced at Agneta, but she seemed content to ignore him, sniveling into her drawn up knees. He made a partial step back towards the threshold, his serving maid’s name forming on his lips again---when a flurry of hastened footfalls eliminated the need to do so. Finally. The lithe young woman appeared in the doorway, breathless and flushed of face, her large eyes quite dark and weary. “Here sir, sorry sir.” She mustered up the words, one slim hand reaching out to brace herself where she stood in the opening, her normally vibrant complexion dull and somewhat puffy. Almost as if she had been newly roused from an uneasy sleep.

Geoffrey Charles frowned at her openly, though this did not delay the words he’d already planned on saying. They came out automatically, amidst the skeptical distraction manifesting across his expression. “The horses. Are they ready---?” She looked confused for a moment, a glimpse of her tongue appearing to moisten visibly dry lips, heavy lids fluttering. “The horses, sir---? Oh---yes, yes sir. Mister Goss be waitin’ for ‘ee outside with ‘em.” She swallowed twice, reaching up to push back her hair; glancing uncertainly at the now quietly weeping girl folding upon herself in the chair.

“Is there anything else I can do for ‘ee, sir---?” Her gaze moved quickly back to him, clearly thinking it unwise to pry. His eyes narrowed, disliking the exhausted, feverish look about her. And even more displeased now than he otherwise might’ve been---with everything else that presently required his attention. And if his suspicions were correct, this could not wait. Damn her impudence---

Esther Carne had taken ill several weeks ago and had been temporarily discharged, in due consideration of Amadora’s advanced pregnancy. He had not wanted his wife exposed to any sickness, whether mild or severe. Recently, Esther had been allowed to resume her duties, beneath the claim that she was much recovered. Now, he found himself no longer convinced of that claim. God damn it. What the hell was the girl thinking---?

“---Are you still unwell, Esther?” There was a distinct edge to his voice, though he endeavored to remain fair---knowing himself to be vexed for reasons unrelated. Reasons she could not rightfully be punished for. However, deserved or no---his tolerance was wearing thin. The serving girl’s eyes widened, chapped lips popping open; her expression a sorry combination of concerned, ashamed, and embarrassed. “Oh---no, no sir---a little tired is all, I assure ‘ee. I be fit to work, I promise---” He headed off her succession of hasty excuses. Having seen quite enough already.

“God’s life, Esther---would you prioritize receiving wage over the health and welfare of your mistress---? You were temporarily dismissed not only for her safety, but also for the betterment of your own recovery. With a promise made in good faith that your position would not be filled in your absence. Was that not sufficient for you---?” His words were over-harsh, and he knew it. On any other day, he would not have spoken to the poor, sincerely well-intended girl in such a manner. She stared at him, breath hitching in her throat---pitifully apologetic, glassy tears welling up in her eyes. Oh, for goodness sake. This day seemed destined to go sorely and rampantly amiss.

“No---no, sir, please---oh, please---I be that sorry, honest on me life, I never meant no harm, I---” She was the second young woman he had brought to tears within one hour.

“Enough---enough.” He held up a hand, patience hanging by a thread. “Just---go home. Go home---rest, eat, sleep---return to us when you are truly and sincerely well, and not a day sooner. Do I make myself clear---?” She nodded several times, stuttering over a succession of acknowledgements and apologies, before disappearing from the room. Geoffrey Charles screwed up his expression, inwardly reprimanding himself---knowing very well that he would regret his handling of the situation even more in several hours, if he did not regret it sufficiently already. It seemed he did not possess the clemency or good-judgment necessary to salvage this day. He turned his attentions back to Agneta, brow furrowing. She had hushed up quite a bit, though her shoulders still gave an irregular shudder, here and there.

He blew out a heavy breath and came directly up to the chair. “Please come along, Miss Treneglos---I’m going to take you ‘ome now.” She mumbled and retracted, eyes squeezing shut. He made to take her by the arm and she pulled away twice, objecting first inaudibly, and then quite loudly. “No! No! Leave me be! Leave Neta alone! She will not go, she will not!” She came to life without warning, refusing to be caught. Unfortunately for the miserable, weeping girl, he was quite finished arguing with her. Between her flailing protestations, Geoffrey Charles seized her first by the wrist, and then took her by either shoulder, lifting her up until she was left with no choice but to stand on her own feet.

She recoiled and twisted, crying out her grievances, grappling with him desperately, however futilely. All in all, making him feel quite cruel and horrible, though he took care to handle her with temperance. Mercifully---these displays of reluctance weakened quite a bit following her initial outburst, and he was able to lead her away without monumental incident. She rambled on senselessly and hopelessly about Valentine, how she had waited for him, how she longed to see him, how very much she loved him. Sometimes she pleaded, sometimes she demanded. Sometimes she despaired, sometimes she resumed a line of hopeful, if unintelligent reasoning. She repeated herself endlessly, and mixed up all her words; quite often disintegrating back into tears.

However, by leave of some small miracle---they departed Trenwith and reached the front yard, where Mister Goss stood waiting for them with two horses. Although the morning’s downpour had temporarily abated, the sky overhead remained dark and heavy with cloud-cover, threatening to resume whenever the wind picked up again. A cold, bleak drizzle pattered down onto the gravel and slicked the close-cropped grass. Already, moisture glistened over the horses, collecting along their manes and coats, gathering in little droplets on the saddles. Mister Goss stood between both animals as they stirred and shifted, freshly oiled reins in hand, old hat pulled low to shield his face from the dismal trickle of precipitation.

Having come in from the dreary weather himself, Geoffrey Charles realized, very much in hindsight, that he should’ve considered these conditions, and allowed the man to await their arrival in the stables. He blinked the rain out of his eyes, expression crinkling grimly; setting the thought aside, for it surely would not serve him now. Despite his damp clothes and visible puffs of breath, Mister Goss shouldered his discomfort with diligence, thin mouth set in a straight but agreeable line, offering no outward signs of displeasure. Of course, this did not necessarily allow Geoffrey Charles any further peace of mind for his careless demands. But again, he endeavored not to dwell there---for he had yet to see this situation properly amended, and it would surely require all of his attention, at the present rate of progression.

“Shall I be takin’ the young miss back to Mingoose House, sir---?”

He hesitated when the question was put into words, finding himself faced with another problem; the acquiescence he’d initially expected to give faltering somewhere between his voice and his tongue. All manner of doubts and misgivings choosing that moment to make themselves manifest. He’d been so preoccupied with the task of removing her from his home, of seeing her sent swiftly and securely on her way, his thoughts had seldom moved beyond that point. Prior to witnessing her current state of being firsthand, it had seemed much a given that one of his workers would be more than sufficient in seeing that she was safely delivered back to her family.

Now however, he could no longer place a satisfactory amount of confidence in that assumption, and it had absolutely nothing to do with the competence of his staff. And everything to do with the shivering, wide-eyed girl beside him. Supposedly tight-lipped and complacent for the time being, drawn in upon herself, content with her listless mumbling. But how long would that last---? Not long enough, he expected.

“Sir---?” Damn it.

“Ah---no, no---actually, I think I shall be seeing to the matter personally. I may need to ‘ave a word with her family.” Perhaps it was solely contrived by his own reluctance to take this task upon himself, but he could’ve sworn that a flicker of relief crossed the other man’s face upon hearing these words. Mild, fleeting, but nevertheless present.

“Oh---well, very good then, sir. Very good. Just as you please.” Very good indeed. Not that he could’ve rightly blamed anyone for wishing to avoid the girl’s company, especially for an extended period of time, during which one would be entirely responsible for her welfare. Himself included, though all evidence acted to the contrary. After all, he’d just volunteered himself, had he not? But what else could he have done, truly---? Both for the sake of his workers, and for Agneta’s own sake. The issue was too temperamental to be left in the care of a third party, and if anything went amiss in his absence, well---it would be on his head, and his conscience.

He exhaled a weighted sigh, allowing the breath to hiss through his teeth; attentions returning to Agneta. “Can you ride, Miss Treneglos?” Her eyes moved briefly in his direction, though they never entirely reached his face, and she made no sign of answering him. She was staring off, where fog hung in silvery wisps about the black gates, leading away onto the main path. He repeated the question, a little louder this time, causing her to startle, though evidently from surprise and not fright. She looked at his face rather than his eyes directly, lips pouting and folding a few times, visibly upset as before, though not presently tearful.

She made a frustrated, indiscernible sound, and said something that he could not hear.

“Beg pardon---?”

“Vally has not come again yet. Neta will wait here for Vally. Geoffrey may go, if he wants. Neta does not care.”

Oh, for goodness sake. Was there no end to it---?

“Miss Treneglos---I’ve already told you several times that Valentine will not be calling here today, or indeed any day in the near future, so you may be certain that nothing will come of your waiting for him. I am taking you home to your parents, where you are surely being missed.” She looked very unhappy and openly weepy again after hearing this, but allowed herself to be ushered over to the nearest horse, quite possibly too distracted to recall her physical protestations at the same time as her mental ones. The nearest horse was Carnation---Amadora’s horse. A lithe, pretty dark bay mare of five or six, and modest height. More significantly, the only horse he owned that was accustomed to being ridden by a woman.

He would simply assume that Agneta knew enough to keep her seat---surely that much was likely to be a given. His eyes shot briefly to the other man, whom he addressed. “Try to keep her still.” He referenced the horse, and Mister Goss nodded. He then made to assist Agneta in mounting, but she backed away at once---directly into him. Fortunately so, as it prevented her from retreating any further. She did not seem to notice this, and simply went on with her objection, which she had finished formulating during the interim.

“Neta can ride, but she does not ride in bad weather! Geoffrey is very foolish.” She announced this, loudly and abruptly, as though seizing upon her latest method of defense, turning partially to face him. Apparently having understood his question all along. Carnation eyed the young woman and shifted a few paces, gravel crunching beneath her hooves. Agneta took no notice of this either, and proceeded to elaborate on her statement. Making mention of the cold rain, of how a horse might stumble and a rider might fall, of how the tack would already be wet, of how she would perhaps go, if Valentine were to escort her instead, as he was very smart.

Although she prattled on for a good while, he predominantly tuned her voice out following the first few words, and focused instead upon getting her in the saddle. She did not make this an easy task. Although Mister Goss made every effort to keep her in place, Carnation did not appreciate the vocal, distressed girl flailing at her side. Finally, amidst her avid objections, Geoffrey Charles simply lifted her up and endeavored to place her atop the horse himself. She was slight of build and slender of figure, only a little heavier than Amadora might have been in his arms. But her long limbs, kicking feet, and grasping hands, made the entire undertaking difficult and awkward.

She thrashed about, refusing to cooperate. Several times, her fingernails connected with his skin, though he did not believe it was altogether on purpose. As she kindly made quite transparent---she simply wanted to be put down.

“Leave off, leave off! Put me down! Geoffrey let Neta go!” She struggled helplessly and Carnation sidestepped away, stirring uneasily, nostrils flaring a little now. The other horse---a spare that had been purchased recently, who’s name he had entirely forgotten, was none too pleased by the ruckus either. “Stop staring at me!” Agneta snapped suddenly, with no shortage of emotion---he thought first at him, before realizing that she was addressing Mister Goss. Ashamed and uncomfortable, the man hastily averted his eyes, attentions returning to the restless animals. The whole thing was threatening to spill over into a ruddy mess any second now. Just his luck, she would fall and hurt herself, and then they would assuredly never hear the end of it.

He swallowed a grimace, jaw setting---waiting until Carnation had been realigned. With the earth momentarily beneath her feet again, Agneta stilled in his grasp, chest rising and falling with the efforts of her resistance, and all the more disheveled for it. Capitalizing upon her temporary sense of reprieve looked to be the wisest course of action. Thus, without giving her adequate time to react beyond a gasp and a startled sound, he hoisted her up again----and this time successfully, popped her into the saddle. “Don’t---!” Her protestation came too late, though she teetered dangerously close to falling right back into his arms---for which he endeavored to be prepared, though he moreover endeavored to avoid it altogether. He did not wish to repeat this.

Carnation danced in place, tail swishing her indisposition, withers shuddering as the girl struggled to maintain her seat; skirts caught hopelessly over the stirrup and side horn. A visible, unkempt result of how indelicately the act had been executed, for which only he could take responsibility. He blew out a short, heavy breath, teeth notching behind closed lips. For a brief interval, Agneta appeared to forget her unwillingness, and focused instead upon mastering her balance. Mister Goss shortened his grip on Carnation’s reins and attempted to quiet the horse, while Geoffrey Charles did his best to assist Agneta in untangling her garments and seeing her properly situated atop the saddle; hosiery clad legs finally stilling side by side, as her skirts were arranged to cover them once more. She wavered a little, but did not look as though she were going to come tumbling down.

She glanced around with her unsteady gaze, displeased but not distraught, mouth slightly open. Appearing almost confused now that the immediate crisis had passed, as though uncertain as to how it had all happened so quickly. He took a deep breath---half hesitant to step away, lest she should spring from her seat and they be forced to go through it all over again. Hopefully, the possibility would not take up with her. He gestured for Mister Goss to hand him the reins of the remaining horse---a tall, middle-aged chestnut mare, leaving the other man to focus on keeping Carnation in check. A horse generally exceedingly well behaved---hence why she had been chosen for his wife. Today however, he could not entirely fault her misdemeanors.

“---Have a care, don’t let her fall.” He instructed, as he stepped away from horse and rider. “Oh---no sir, no sir.” Mister Goss straightened at once, moving over to take his place at Agneta’s side, keeping a close hold on Carnation, though she had begun to settle. Agneta looked down at the man uneasily, shoulders retracting, making a slight face. Still off-put by his unintentional gawking. “Neta does not fall.” She said, eyes shifting to Geoffrey Charles as he walked around to the other horse. “But Neta does not have the reins!” She glanced down suddenly and frowned quite a bit, lower lip pushing out. “It is incorrect.” She informed, or possibly reprimanded them.

He placed his foot in the stirrup and swung onto the other horse---Trim, he recalled now, and---upon gathering the reins, sided her up to Carnation, heeled boots squeezing directionally against her barrel. He glanced warily at the young woman seated across from him, and then promptly made up his mind without much consideration; freeing one hand and proceeding to motion with it. “Give me her reins.” He said, failing at some length to keep his tone patient, though he remained clearheaded. Truly, there was no target present who was suitable for or deserving of his frustrations---but perhaps that was just the issue.

“Beg pardon---? Oh, yes sir.” Mister Goss unfolded the reins where they had been creased in his hands, handing them up to his master without delay.

Agneta observed this occurrence and subsequently voiced her feelings on the matter, sitting up very straight in the saddle. “Neta needs that! Neta can do it very well on her own.” She held out her hands, as if expecting to now receive them. Geoffrey Charles looked over at her briefly, and then down again where he gripped both sets, speaking as he adjusted his hold on them. “Indeed---I am sure that you can, Miss Treneglos. However, I’ve no wish to tax you any further on this day. Please do not distress yourself.”

She said something more about being a very good rider, as both her parents were quite accomplished, but Geoffrey Charles had turned to address his footman, who stood obediently awaiting his next set of orders, were there to be any. “---I believe that will be all, God willing.” He amended his posture, brow moderately furrowed, unable to manage much beyond a look of grim resignation. He made a slight gesture with his left hand, from which he now controlled Carnation, indicating Trenwith. “Go inside, if you will. Warm yourself. See to it that your mistress and Joanna are looked in on.” Mister Goss nodded, bowing at the waist. “It will be done, sir. Safe travels to ‘ee.” Geoffrey Charles clicked his tongue, signaling Trim to walk on.

Fortunately, he was not without practice at single-handed riding. Carnation followed suit, though she tossed her head once; unaccustomed to feeling her mouth pressured from the front. Agneta swayed at first, but her body adapted to the motion and her hands fell instinctively to Carnation’s withers, gathering a small handful of her sleek, dark mane. Geoffrey Charles turned partially in his seat and spoke over his shoulder, though he did not slow the horses. “---And see to it that Miss Carne does not attempt to resume her duties whilst I am away. If she turns up here, she is to be sent directly home. Is that understood---?” This order earned a somewhat more befuddled look from his footman, but was still received with an acceptable level of promptness and concurrence.

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kat-and-her-cat-blog · 7 years

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New Year’s Resolutions

January 2nd, 2017 1:56PM

Joe and I had a lovely New Year’s Eve this year, we spent it with my family for the first time since we started dating. That’s being left as a separate post, because there are a few things I want to write rant about, in regards to that.

I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions, however, I do have a few this year.

I quit my job at the end of September 2015, after having several issues with the management, and after my mental health declined. My New Year’s resolutions for 2016 were pretty simple;

Take some time for myself, and prioritize self-care

Work on my mental heath issues, specifically, learn to handle my anxiety, and get to know what triggers me

Don’t rush into going back to work too soon, being able to buy nice, and fun, things is not worth destroying myself

Get the hell away from Ashley (in July, when my lease ends)

I did very well in 2016 on a couple of those. I kept up with my self-care for quite a while, and I practised it in healthy ways. I would take bubble baths, put myself in a better mood by watching funny movies (usually while doing something somewhat productive), make sure I ate something somewhat healthy, if I was really angry I would do sit-ups, and push-ups to work off the energy, my go-to stress food was spicy, chunky, tomato soup. Lately, I’ve been letting that slide. I’ve been eating increasingly unhealthy foods, and have been letting myself rationalize it. I stopped cooking healthy food in batches, and instead rarely eat at home, opting instead for Joe to buy me fast food. My go-to stress food is potato chips now, where they used to be a twice-monthly treat (once at the beginning of the month, and once when I got my period). Self-care is practically a foreign concept to me now, I spend most of my days in bed, watching TV. As I mentioned, I eat pretty crappy foods, when I do cook at home, the leftovers grow mould in the fridge, instead of being eaten. I rarely do anything physical anymore, because my hips are too bad for me to walk long short distances, and this apartment doesn’t have a bathtub I’m comfortable soaking in. I’ve gotten angrier, and more sore. My depression has increased, and I struggle to find the motivation to do anything at all, let alone be productive. I’ve been out of work for 15 months now, when I thought I’d only need 6 months off, maximum.

As for working on my mental health issues, I can’t really call any of that a fail on my part. I will admit that I didn’t do too much to sort it out on my own, and a lot of that was based in fear. I don’t know how to handle my feelings, because I never really have before, and I’m terrified that I’m going to spiral back down into my anger, cutting, and suicidal thoughts. I’m not confident that I could survive feeling like that again. I did however, see a psychiatrist for a while, but I had a lot of issues with him. I don’t like one-size-fits-all treatment plans, and I especially don’t like being told to come up with my own, if that one isn’t working. I think the final straws for me were when I told him that I couldn’t come up with an entire treatment plan (if I knew how to 100% treat myself, I definitely would not have spent over three years on a waiting list, to get help), he told me to tell him when something wasn’t working, and what I thought might help instead. I told him that refusing to let me talk about my past was unhelpful, because my issues are caused by my past experiences, and I need to work on dealing with the things I went through, because right now, I basically just ignore them. He told me we aren’t living in the past, and that we would only talk about the present. He also got really angry when I did try to talk about the past, even to explain something that was going on now. He spent our entire sessions playing devil’s advocate, and rarely validated my feelings; I understand having to see things from both sides, but please acknowledge that the situation upset/hurt me. I stopped seeing him after the receptionist got snappy when I couldn’t make three “appointments” in a row, the appointments being “someone cancelled, can you come in in an hour?” I told her to take me off the list, because I didn’t want their services anymore after that. I also explained to her that I only stayed on the list because the doctor had bullied me into it, and I was having a panic attack by the end of it, and therefore was incapable of standing my ground. I also explained that giving such short notice to someone who lives in another city, and doesn’t drive, wasn’t a good way to ensure that patients can get help, because the trip alone would take me an hour and a half, not including time spent getting the change for the bus, and getting ready to go out for an extended length of time. Getting a crappy doctor wasn’t my fault, just like the waiting list to get in to see a new doctor, isn’t my fault either. I went to three sessions with the crappy doctor, and after stopping therapy there, I made the appointment with my family doctor to be referred somewhere else. I have tried my best for getting professional help, but because I’m limited by OHIP covered therapy, it’s a pretty long process.

I definitely didn’t rush into going back to work, seeing as how I stopped applying for jobs months ago. I have a lot of valid concerns about going back to work, but I also have an equal number of rationalizations, for very minor concerns as well.

I definitely got the hell away from Ashley. I gave my notice in June, and left at the end of August.

This year, I’m keeping my resolutions pretty simple. Partially because I think the idea of New Year’s resolutions is stupid, so this is all stuff I wanted to do anyway, timed conveniently at the beginning of a new year, and partially because I want to make sure my goals are attainable. Here are my resolutions;

Clean up my side of the apartment, and keep it clean

For the love of everything, stop burying my couch and knick-nacks

Keep up with my laundry

Handwash delicates and smaller clothing items, to cut down on the cost of going to the laundromat

Get myself on a routine

Start with a general routine without times, then progress into adding times in later

i.e; “wake-up, pee, have a smoke, brush teeth...” then when I’m used to that, “wake-up at 9:15, pee, have a smoke, brush teeth by 9:35″ (random times, the actual routine times will depend on what works out for my life’s schedule)

Sort out my sleeping pattern

Set alarms to wake up at the same time every morning

Do not nap during the day, and take a sleeping pill if needed at night (naps may be unavoidable for the first few times I take the sleeping pill though)

Take sleeping pills more often, not every night, but two or three times a week is okay

Start seriously looking into getting a new job

Take Kayla up on her offer to try to get me a job at the grocery store near our apartment (she’s friends with the manager)

Take January, and maybe some of February to get on the routine, but start looking for a job before March

Start tracking my triggers on my own, and taking steps independently to work on my mental health

Don’t push myself too hard, but don’t ignore everything either

Start eating properly again

Take my mason jars and tupper-ware out of storage, they shouldn’t have been put in there in the first place, and not having them in the apartment creates more excuses not to cook

Buy foods that can be cooked and stored in bulk, instead of all these two-serving meals I’ve gotten in the habit of buying

Organize the freezer to accommodate food storing

Start studying for my G1, even if I can’t afford to take the test yet

When I get a job, I will be able to afford it, and then I won’t be rushing at the time of, to learn everything. This way, I can study at a leisurely pace, without stressing myself out

It’s going to be hard at first, but I’m confident that I can do it. There’s a lot of things on that list, but hopefully a lot of them will become habits over time, instead of something that requires constant monitoring, and focus.

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