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pikaflute · 3 years

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hi, sudafed cleared my sinuses long enough to think so here’s a giant post about most of my charles headcanons

Playlist

OH btw here’s my 4 hour and 23 minute playlist for Charles. Enjoy. Yes I know I’m insane: https://open.spotify.com/user/pikaflute24/playlist/4DBxaaxbqsmJt9Fvl8AgwZ?si=OcXlYCdFRzOhuKa4p_HdUQ

General Headcanons

He was born November 24 1965. He’s currently 56, but I usually write him in his late 40s in most fanfic and content I make. So there’s this middle aged man....

He has hazel eyes. Sometimes they look green, sometimes brown. Sometimes they’ll be white but that’s when he’s using his magic so mind your business

Gear brand over his heart >:)c

:) i think he has piercings and tattoos, a skull (dead man teehee) on his upper arm, a tattoo of a date (the date pickles and him first met TEEHEE) on his left arm also has a tattoo on his arm of the day he “died” on his right. had his ears pierced when he was a teen.

Has a sweet tooth so hard. Smuggles in treats into the drawers of his desk just to snack on during the day and has a mini fridge just filled with ice cream and also sorts of other goodies. He loves brownies and cookies the most

Likes to work out and keep himself in shape. it takes his mind off of stressful things like work and the boys, and just take his morning practice sparring and doing various exercises in the mordhaus gym.

he’s uh also very flexible so he does yoga a lot when he exercises. don’t. look too deep into that

cannot cook to save his life. he almost burned mordhaus down trying to make himself a sandwich

he can play guitar! he used to play it more often when he was younger but he rarely has the time to play it nowadays. when he does get to play it, it’s usually in private (and mainly songs by dethklok), or it’s to show off to a certain lead guitarist that yes he is playing that solo wrong

he’s ambidextrous but prefers using his right hand. he’ll use his left hand to spar in order to go easy on his opponents because hes a smug cunt

he’s 5′7 but intimidation factor adds a couple inches doesn’t it

has a scorpion named princess as a pet. he lets her sit on his desk sometimes and it scares the shit out of dethklok which makes charles laugh on the inside

hes also a cat person. one time toki brought a cat home and it settled on charles’ lap and he almost cried

loves to be a smug asshole and relishes in it. will not take shit from anyone, especially from some asshole who is trying to pull one over on him

he has no idea how social media works at all. will print memes out to show to dethklok, he’s very fond of cat memes specifically (i can has cheeseburger type beat)

he has no idea what any internet memes means he isn’t going to start learning. he is going to misuse internet phrases. are you boys, ah, finding the imposter? [cue five groans from dethklok]

knows a lot of languages. not a comprehensive list but: french, swedish, norwegian, spanish, italian, japanese, chinese, german, russian and korean

is very competitive. scarily competitive. once he starts losing in smash or mario kart all hell will break lose

very bad at showing emotions or affection, when he gets compliments he gets all red and quiet and mumbles a thank you.

weird about being touched as well and will usually avoid it unless it’s with someone he trusts

speaking of, his love language is acts of service :)c

hates being called charlie or chuck, unless the right person calls him it ;)

he’s autistic. was nonverbal for most of his life and only talked to certain people, or anyone at all. he stims with his hands and uses his pens to fidget.

has a collection of novelty socks. he likes the ones that have polka dots or stripes

sleeps with a garfield plushie he had since he was younger. it helps him with the nightmares

when any of the boys need help sleeping (usually toki or pickles), he’ll sleep with them in his bed. after dying he had trouble sleeping some nights, so dethklok returned the favor and all piled up in his bed and helped him sleep. he didnt have nightmares after that night

hes nearsighted, and prefers to wear glasses over contacts

lactose intolerant, hes still eating mac n cheese and paying the price

metalhead but pretends to not be just to mess with his boys

crippling addiction to match 3 games. also loves to play minecraft.

overly self sacrificial. puts ones he love needs before his own, results in himself being very isolated and distant from those he cares about because he’s afraid of hurting them

his favorite colors are black and purple

coffee kinda guy. black coffee or bust

has a lot of cute novelty mugs to put his coffee in. he ones from places where dethklok tours, dethklok official ones (the only two that aren’t adorned with spikes), some cat themed ones, a couple that have ties and math references, and one from his boys that says “most brutal manager”. he drinks out of that last one the most

he has a couple of grey hairs and wrinkles, but he keeps them because they remind him that he’s human. also pickles said old men were hot but you didnt hear that from me

likes to play chess but he can never find a good opponent. all the klokateers are too scared if they win and dethklok is too distracted to ever play with him or they end up losing to quickly if charles plays against them

really wants kids. he babies his sister’s sons and daughters a TON (uncle charles always brings the best gifts :) ) and also treats toki like his own son in a way. toki doesnt mind, he really appreciates the love

speaking of, toki does call charles dad once and it makes charles cry for like. a week and a half

his favorite dethklok song is the gears :)

he likes to collect knives as a side hobby, his favorite of his collection is a sleek black one with skulls on the handle

he has a motorcycle and likes to drive it around sometimes to just be alone with himself. it’s all black with a red gear on it

lightweight but only if he drinks the amount dethklok drinks. can hold his alcohol fairly well if he drinks like a sensible human, prefers brandy and wine

he can smoke cigars to be sexy for me and me ONLY

likes to read in his spare time. he likes mystery novels and science fiction

he has soft spot for cheesy sitcoms, they’re his guilty pleasure

his favorite youtuber is lockpickinglawyer. yours should be too

usually sleeps in only his boxers but will wear a shirt if its’s cold. he tends to sleep on his side (also wants to be the little spoon when cuddled but he will never admit that)

takes vacations sometimes away from the boys despite his worry that something will go wrong (it will!). many of his vacations are usually going to visit his family and going to the shore with them, or travelling to somewhere new for a change (cue charles being a yakuza substory on his one vacation per year)

he can sew pretty well. learned from his mom and used to sew the whole his sister use to put through her soccer uniform.

can also do makeup, and usually does it for one of the boys of there’s no one else around to help

bites his lip when he’s nervous. which is a lot

likes chococat and gudetama. he’s a man of tastes

laughs really loud if you catch him off guard. he snorts sometimes too. he’s embarrassed by it, but i think its’ cute

loves law and order obviously

he likes men

has a lot of pent up rage. very good at compressing it. sometimes

as high priest, he stays up very late trying to decipher the ancient prophecies that dethklok needed to fulfill. he doesnt sleep very much when he starts out because he misses home, so the band makes him come back (or else)

also as high priest he becomes more intune with magic granted to him after he died and he mainly uses his magic to protect his boys when they go back to being a band. also to fuck with them

the band he managed before dethklok was a band named savior who said they were a metal band with a unique sound, but that unique sound was actually just being a christian metal band that were bad at playing music. they also treated charles like shit and blamed him for them doing so poorly with sales and shows. had an unfortunate “accident” with a tour bus after charles had enough of their attitude towards him. he denies he had anything to do with it (he did.)

Family/Childhood

He’s the baby of the family. Spoiled rotten to the max. He doesn’t admit it though but whenever he comes home you know he abuses the “:)c im the favorite” card

He has 4 older sisters: Caroline who is a high school civics teacher, Cynthia who is a librarian, Callie who is a coach for a soccer team, and Charlotte who is a lawyer/manager who manages Ladyklok, which gets awkward (and funny) when Abigail starts dating the lead singer Natalie

charles is actually one of the tallest in his family. his dad is 6’1 and his older sister Callie is 5’11. cynthia is 5’6, caroline is 5’6, and his mom and charlotte are 5’5.

his mom is a doctor and his dad is an accountant. his mom’s name is giovanna and his dad’s name is elijah

caroline is the oldest sister, followed by cynthia, callie, charlotte then charles.

Charlotte and Charles are sworn enemies since they were born on the same day a year apart and basically have the same job. They do love each other though

His father calls him Charles. Caroline and Cynthia call him Charlie. Callie calls him Chuck. Charlotte calls him Charles (derogatory). His mom calls him a whole slew of nicknames that she made up when he was young (she calls him cheese ball and he turns red)

caroline has a wife (lauren who is a chef) and two kids (evan and shelby)

cynthia is dating a coworker (viola)

callie has a husband (john who is a stay at home dad) and they have three kids (brenda, melissa, and jeff)

charlotte is dating ladyklok (and abigail). this is a weird flex on charles i think.

He had a race car bed when he was like 5

He also was also one of those kids at family game night. He almost killed Cynthia over a game of monopoly

Always got to lick the spoon first after his mom baked brownies

He grew up in North Jersey (derogatory) (also yes im projecting state shot)

He’s also Italian (derogatory)

He got bullied in middle school for a little bit but once his older sisters found out, oh boy did all hell break loose

Was in band in high school. He played flute (DONT TALK TO ME I LIKE PROJECTING), he was of course a soloist and incredibly smug about it

Took gymnastics as a kid. Can do a backflip on command. Also very flexible.

First manager gig was helping his sisters sell girl scout cookies. They raked in a lot of profits when baby bro was behind the scenes. His cut was eating thin mints for free

Loved Star Trek when he was a kid

Was incredibly gifted, and taught himself to read at a young age. didn’t talk that much though

was always sick when he was little. he would always get sinus infections and colds if someone even sneezed weird

was in mock trial in high school. one guy on his team was a jerk to him so charles made it a point to be this poor kid’s nemesis

was on the student council, treasurer of course.

was also in nhs, and he was treasurer there too

was that kid who insisted on doing the group project by himself because he didn’t want to wait on anyone to finish their part

was super rowdy as a kid, always got into trouble but his mom was a little lenient of punishment (hes a mommas boy)

when he was like super young he bit people cause he was just a little monster (charles' sisters: mom charles is biting again. charles, biting one of them: im not :/ sheesh)

wanted to be a lawyer since he was 7

put his own siblings and parents on trial and would win every trial and would always get the last cookie or a higher allowance

he shared his room with his sister Charlotte and they would set up a pillow fort on one of the beds and stay up late reading together

loved going to the beach as a kid, his mom still has his collection of shells from the beach

on the boardwalk, he would dominate at claw machines anad carnival games. he won a bunch of plushies from himself (and his sisters obviously)

his dad and him have a super close bond. they watched star trek together and also like to watch how the stock market would do. his dad was also sometimes the judge in charles’ mock trials at home

they were very supportive when he came out as gay, he was also the first of his sibilings to come out of the closet

College

Got his masters in business management at rutgers and a JD (law degree) from seton hall law.

Started college when he was 18 (1983) and ended college when he was 26 (1991)

Wasn’t a party guy. Never got invited to many, but he never went unless a certain redhead was in town

Sustained himself off of ramen, coffee, and SSRIs to get his masters (hey man i feel ya)

Did weed like three times. Three of those times were because of, you guessed it, a certain redhead

Speaking of, his first time having sex was in his dorm with Pickles. Pickles also kicked him off of the bed (those beds are fucking tiny) while they slept, and almost burned Charles’ dorm down trying to make toast the next morning

Absolute did not do essays until the night before. Bad habit that made it’s way into Dethklok managing when he’s forced to write a legal brief before 12 am.

Loved calculus 2 for some reason. Nerd

Had a mullet. Pickles thought it was hot (still is) while Charles would rather die than remember anything about that horrid hairdo

Also went through his goth/emo phase while in Law School. He stuck out amongst the sea of sweater vests and polo shirts

Was in a band with his fellow college bandmates. The band was called Habeas Corpses and he was the lead singer who also played guitar. Their sound was kind of similar to TWRP’s first two EPs (The Device and 2nite). they had a grunge aesthetic, and yes charles dyed his mullet black (with a purple streak), for the band.

his bandmates were all fellow law students. dillan was on drums, margaret was their bass guitar, and nick was their keyboardist. all three of them also got tutored by charles while in law school. they are still best friends and write to each other sometimes

Was on the debate team, but uh kicked off due to be very competitive (he threatened to punch the opposing debater)

Was also in the chess club, also kicked off for being too competitive (lunged at a kid for cheating)

After being kicked from the two previous clubs, he joined fencing, his very competitive nature made him the best in the state

nick (the guy in charles’ band) was charles’ roommate the whole time they were in college. they may or may not have had a brief relationship before they realized they would be better as friends

nick also has a nes and charles loved to played zelda and wrote an entire guide for himself because he’s was that into the game (nerd)

occasionally would be found sleeping in the library on campus

wanted to be an RA but the resident association at his schools thought he was a little much. charles took this as a compliment

worked out a lot between studying and classes. a lot of jocks underestimated him because of his size but charles was just :) [casually lifts something heavy]

a lot of fellow classmates thought he was super cool cause of the leather he wore, and how cool and quiet he was, too bad they didnt know he was a huge nerd

tried skateboarding. once.

had a cadillac that barely started and drove like a piece of shit but that was charles’ baby

pickles tried to have sex with charles in said car btw, charles almost killed him for even daring to suggest to tarnish his beautiful baby

has damaged his back permanently because of all the books he used to carry around in his crappy back pack

did some modelling for one of his friends in college. he was very attractive and got some other modelling job through it. he tries to hide that from the boys in the future because he thinks it’s embarrassing

Relationship with Dethklok

Pickles - he’s known the drummer the longest out of any other member, and if you couldn’t tell by now, he had a brief relationship with the drummer back in the 80s (and maybe also still has a crush on him :)). charles respects and admires pickles’ talent as a musician and sometimes they play together when they have time alone. he tries to be there when pickles has a relapse in either emotions with his family or something else, but still tries to maintain a distance because he thinks that pickles doesn’t feel the same as he did in the 80s. (he does btw). nothing could break the bond these two share. not even death

Nathan - understands nathan’s quiet nature (nonverbal kings!) and strive for perfection in everything dethklok creates because he is the same way. their similarities allow them to connect on a level that allows nathan to open up about his feelings that he likes to lock away. nathan also gets charles to open his feelings up and actually care for himself for once in his damn life. charles also helps nathan with the depression he develops after charles dies and how to deal with it despite it being not brutal. nathan wants to give back and he does by becoming one of charles’ closest friends (and maybe even lovers hehehe)

Toki - charles has taken it upon himself to be toki’s father figure after seeing the way toki’s family has left him for essentially dead. ever since toki joined the band, charles has made it a point to be there for him whenever he needed it. even if it meant spending late nights reading to toki or sleeping over in toki’s room to help him sleep, he’ll do it. he blames himself for toki’s disappearance but toki assures him that he did the best he could. toki calls him dad a lot after doomstar. it makes charles cry.

Skwisgaar - unstoppable asshole meets immovable object. skwisgaar sees himself above everyone else like he does with the other dethklok members but with charles, skwisgaar knows that charles isn’t intimidated by him nor will he bow to the guitar god in anyway. this develops a game of cat and mouse between the two, with skwisgaar trying to no subtly push charles’ buttons and to see what makes him ticks, while charles resist him at every turn with a smug ‘:) is that all you got’ and it delights him to finally see the guitarist squirm under pressure.

Murderface - at first the two are very. distant to say the least. murderface used to see charles as unemotional robot and charles was fine with that and accepted the distance. overtime however, and especially after charles died, murderface warmed up to charles confiding in him things he hasn’t told the band, mainly things about his insecurities because charles is ‘fucking smart with crap like this’. and charles helps him and is happy to see him work out his problems and not bottle them anymore like the rest of his bandmates. charles also enjoys murderface’s company as a friend as well. and….he’s gonna help murderface the most with the whole traitor stuff too.

Abigail - mlm and wlw hostility. but seriously they’re good buds. he sympathizes with having to deal the moronic actions of dethklok on a daily basis and also thinks she’s really intelligent and overall fun to hang out with. they take lunch breaks frequently together and like to make fun of people at dethklok dinners together as a fun activity together. abigail will bully his ass once she finds out she’s dating charles’ sister and WILL bring up those baby pictures to get a higher raise thank you very much

Knubbler - can you say coworker besties! like abigail, he gets along because they both have to deal with dethklok being, well dethklok, but with knubbler, charles can relax a little more. the two cause problems on purpose just because they can. the two are also close friends and knubbler tries to get charles to relax for once in his life, and despite charles protests and objections, he sometimes caves and hands out with his friend (maybe boyfriend OOOOO who knows)

Sex Headcanons (IM SORRY)

um maybe he can have a giant dick (10 inches for me), it do be swinging though

daddy kink (everyone stay on this side, ill take care of him….come to daddy ;)c)

likes to do roleplay. he has a lot of costumes prepared for when his partner wants to do a scene with him

likes to bite and be bitten during sex. after a very long night, he’ll be covered in bite marks, it’s kinda hot

no gag reflex ;) he likes to deepthroat but good luck trying to get him to go down on you without him teasing

remember how i said he was flexible like eight times? yeah he uh, uses that a lot to his advantage. likes being fucked in weird positions because of it

the suit stays on during sex

he likes topping because he likes to be in control of everything he does all the time, but really wants to be told what to do sometimes and will let those he trusts do that for him

he has a dick piercing i know it

he's a very busy man, so he relies on his huge collection of toys he keeps in his bedroom and office

really good with his hands. as soon as those hands are on you, its game over

he loves to do it on his desk, makes him feel powerful. when he gets blown under his desk, it really takes all of his willpower to not cum immediately

really sensitive in weird places, specifically his ears

he likes to cuddle after sex, hes the little spoon :)

likes to be tied up, sometimes he’ll get tied up under his suit

mating press and riding are his favorite positions, giving and receiving

size queen, likes large toys and well ;)

has a private room that he sometimes goes to relieve stress, it has a fucking machine that he likes to use often when his job gets too stressful

he’s sucking people off at the klokateer glory hole, he’s uh, very good at what he does

likes to be spanked and like to spank

uses collars and leashes

maybe the klokateers can fuck him, if they’re good ;)

freeballing

likes cum on his face but doesn't seem to realize that means he’ll get cum on his glasses and will need to clean them

he can wear a chastity belt :) for me

likes being came in but will still complain about being gross after

pretty much up for anything, he’s not picky, he just wants to be in control and get off

#metalocalypse #charles foster offdensen

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poormeowmeowcollector · 3 years

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Oh My God They Were Roommates! Just Roommates

Warnings: mentions of nightmares, smoking, breakdowns and lactose intolerance.

Characters: aro!Bucky ace!Loki (also genderfuid)

Summary: After the end of the Avengers, some kept fighting and some retired. Bucky was too tired to keep going, and he wanted the normal life. But he didn't expect the God of Mischief asking for the same thing

Notes: I made the Bingo! This was so tough to write but I really love the results!

Read On AO3

The Avengers are now in the past, after the Big Battle with Thanos. Some have gone offworld, some keep fighting and some just stop and try to leave a normal life. They are too tired to keep fighting. And Bucky is one of them.

After the battle, and after Steve handed his legacy over Sam, Bucky promised himself a normal and calm life. Sam respected it and asked for no help, even if things go bad. He pays a visit once a week and stays in touch.

Bucky now works in a small coffeeshop, and rents a small apartment. It's simple and cozy, he likes it. And he likes his simple life with his friendly co-workers and nice customers and he even gets laid if he's lucky enough. He falls in love with this kind of life.

One day, on a rainy night of November, he hears a knock on the door. He doesn't bother fetching his metal hand as he crosses the room and opens it.

And he finds Loki outside, wet and shivering. He never liked rain, says that water can compromise his cold resistance.

"Come in, you must be freezing," Bucky opens the door and moves aside. Loki nods and smiles, kicking his boots out after his feet meet the carpet.

And Loki never mentions Asgard. They didn't mention it as much before Ragnarok, but now they act as if it never existed. And suddenly, they make traditional soups.

"Th-thank you…" Loki smiles.

"Don't mention it. Take that thing on, will ya? Settle near the radiator, over the couch, I'll make you something warm to drink, okay?" Bucky replies, pointing at the soaking wet coat Loki's wearing. He makes a small nod and does as he was told, watching Bucky as he fetches his hand and heads to the kitchen. He knows that he shouldn't give him tea or coffee, it's quite late and Loki's an insomniac, so he settles down with chocolate. Well, he has a big sweet tooth, why not enjoy a nice warm cup of chocolate?

He goes back to the couch, smiling just a bit when he sees Loki covered with the blanket like a burrito. Loki takes the cup, holding it to warm up his hands before he takes a long sip.

"Th-thank you, it's q-q-quite g-good," He smiles, his shivering chin making his stutter appear.

"Again, don't mention it. What brought you here?" Bucky relaxes on the other side of the couch, his eyes on Loki. Last time he remembers, Loki was fighting.

"I couldn't move past Tony… it, it went bad, even when I was fighting. All nightmares and flashbacks and I… I think it's killing me. I wanna get out of this, retire. It's just too much, I can't take it anymore," He admits, his voice trembling again but not because of the cold. Bucky reaches out to his hand, a tight grip on it with his fleshed limp. And Loki leaves a small smile.

"And, I thought if you could use a roommate…" He finishes his answer.

"To be honest, it does get a bit boring without some idiots yelling at toasters," Bucky smiles.

"Bread should not be flying!" Loki spits, and Bucky laughs at it. But Loki also lets his lips twist upwards.

"You can stay for how long you want. But we will have to get a bigger apartment, this one has only one bedroom," Bucky answers.

"Let me rest for tonight and it will have a second bedroom tomorrow," Loki eyes the former soldier. He almost forgets about his magic. "But I can settle down on the couch tonight, it's comfy," He smiles. Bucky smiles too, he really doesn't feel like abandoning the apartment, he worked so hard to make it the way it is.

And they start to catch up with each other, while they have the energy to stay up. But they both grow tired and end up muttering goodnight and going to sleep.

For Bucky, it was a normal Saturday sleep, when he knows his alarm clock won't wake him up. But Loki hadn't slept with such peacefulness since Tony died.

~~~

"WHERE THE FUCK DID YOU PUT MY HAIRBRUSH?" Bucky yells from the bathroom.

"WHY THE FUCK WOULD I TAKE YOUR HAIRBRUSH? I DIDN'T EVEN KNOW YOU BRUSH THIS SHIT UNTIL NOW!" Loki yells back from the kitchen.

"LISTEN HERE, YOU LITTLE SHIT. IF YOU EVER DISRESPECT MY HAIR LIKE THA- Nevermind, I found it," Bucky mutters the last few words. And Loki hears him perfectly. Because they are 7 feet apart. They didn't need to yell at each other.

"Good for you. Now stop blaming me whenever you lose something," Loki answers, waiting for the soldier to appear on their viewing field. And he did. But they now sigh and pay more attention to the food they're cooking.

"Alright, I'm sorry," Bucky hums, Loki making only a throaty sound as an answer. "What're you making? It smells nice," He asks, moving towards the kitchen to peek at the pot.

"It's a traditional stew on Asgard, you'll see," Loki smiles, but actually means "no peeking until I'm done".

Usually, Bucky was the one doing the cooking. Loki is a better cook, they use a lot of seasoning and know which one goes where, but they don't like it as much. In fact, Bucky can swear they only cook when stressed, as if they try to distract themselves with the smell of whatever they throw into the food.

And they basically talk through the night, with interruptions when Loki is rushing to the bathroom and returning like they had to give birth over there. At least until they both grow tired and fall asleep, right beside to each other. For the first time in days, no screaming and waking up in the middle of the night occurs.

Bucky sighs, trying to find something else to focus on. Something other than Loki's odd behaviour the last days, with the ongoing silence and numbness. Other than the sudden Æsir cooking. Other than the smoking they pretend it doesn't happen, like Bucky doesn't recognize the smell of tobacco in them. Something other than the screaming he hears in the middle of the night and knows that he can't help because Loki tends to lean towards the fight response and Bucky cannot fight back without hurting them.

And he knows where those things lead to. It's not the first time that Loki started going south after Tony. And the previous one was ugly, by all means. What if this one turns out to be ugly too?

"What are you thinking of?" Loki asks, their voice carefully soft. Bucky tries to appear calm, it's not worth worrying Loki too.

"Nothing special…" He shrugs, avoiding eye contact. But he hears Loki sighing and moving the pot before they walk on the couch and sit beside him.

"Is that why you are so worried? Come on, speak it up. Weren't you saying that we should talk about what is bothering us?" They are still soft, like Bucky's the elephant in the room. They were always like this, prefer to soothe others than speak about their issues.

"I'm just worried…" Bucky admits. This will not end pretty…

"Do you want to say what is worrying you?" Loki sits closer, big green eyes staring at him. The dark circles that start creeping around them making them brighter.

"Nah, it's not worth it…" Bucky regrets it and stares elsewhere, gazing at the asexual and aromatic flags hanging on the doors of the two bedrooms. And Loki makes a small tutting sound.

"You can just say you don't feel like talking, lies weren't needed," They argue.

"Says the god of them," Bucky thinks out loud. He shouldn't have said that.

The room gets cold, something Bucky knows is happening because Loki loses some control of their Frostbite when overwhelmed. They stand up and go back to the kitchen, speaking only to inform him that the dinner is ready with a dead voice.

Bucky follows them with hesitance, waiting for them to fill a bowl with the brownish stew before he serves himself and settles on the chair opposite to them.

The stew is nice. The taste of meat is strong and the seasoning makes it kind of sweet. Not exactly Bucky's taste, but he doesn't mind it. Loki plays with the pieces of meat inside it, his right hand holding his head.

"It's nice," He mutters, hoping he can make a small smile appear.

"It's shit," Loki argues, letting the spoon fall on the bowl as they stare at it with disgust. And then, they cover their face with their hands, their rapid breathing echoing.

"Hey, it's just some stew," Bucky tries to soothe them down but they stand up and pace to their room, the door slammed behind them. Bucky wants to follow, walk in and hug them tight and soothe them down. But it's wiser to give them some space.

He tries to finish his own meal, but his appetite is long gone. So, he empties the bowls back in the pot and washes the dishes, trying to think of what to do. He can already feel the apartment going colder and colder, and it's never a good thing.

Maybe if he finds something to cheer up Loki? They like sweets, maybe a cake. Thank God there's a candy store down the road, it will be maybe ten minutes on foot.

Loki doesn't react when Bucky opens the door and leaves, they probably don't even care. Bucky's lucky enough to find a dark chocolate cake, their favourite flavor, and it's cheap enough to buy it. And Loki is still locked in the room when he returns with the dessert.

"Hey, can you please let me in. Just wanna check on ya, you know," Bucky knocks the door. The handle twists and the door opens after a blanket of frost covers it. But, Loki's magic is like a green light that acts like smoke…

Loki is sitting on the corner of the bed, the room around them covered with a thin layer of ice. They have dropped every illusion, even the Æsir one. They do it plenty of times in an attempt to get used to it, or when they can't control the seiðr. They smile just so, fags showing, as they light out a smoke on an ashtray.

"Will you stand there?" They ask, voice dead. There are no tears in their ruby eyes, not trembling from the crying. They just look numb.

Bucky nods and sits on the other side of the bed, placing the box in front of him and a fork above it. "I thought you would like some cake…" He hums, inspecting Loki as they glance at the box.

"Thank you," They try to smile but their face disagrees. They take the box to their lap and open it, frost appearing on the paper that touches him and the fork.

"So, do you feel like speaking?" Bucky asks. They hate showing it, but they love talking and it actually helps them a lot.

"It's just some homesickness. Don't worry, it will pass…" They shrug one shoulder and take a bite of the cake. Their lips twist upwards, a good sign, and they place the box between them and Bucky, a second fork appearing in their hand.

"Oh, thank you," Bucky smiles and takes it, not minding the freezing cold of Bucky's skin. "So, it's about Asgard or the Avengers," He asks.

"Kind of both, somehow… and, it's also the nightmares, as usual. But they're manageable," They lie. After years with them, Bucky knows when they lie. And, most important, he knows when to demand the truth and when not.

"Well, if you feel like it will help, you can come over for snuggles and emotional support." He suggests. Loki smiles and nods, staying silent as they focus on the cake. Can you blame them? They haven't eaten properly for days. But Bucky does give them a look when he realises how fast they devoured the dessert.

"Wait, did you ask for lactose free?" They ask, after making the box vanish. And Bucky forgot to ask.

"Shouldn't you also ask before you eat the whole thing?" He also asks, his worry about how much Loki's small intestine shall suffer tonight growing.

"So, we are both idiots," Loki comes to a conclusion, finding Bucky agreeing.

"Basically, yes… and, I think I should suffer with you tonight, right?" He asks.

"Definitely, just lay near the wall, you don't want to be between me and the toilet," They respond, freeing the space of the bed they meant. Bucky got his metal hand out, he doesn't like sleeping with it on, and lay where he was instructed to, Loki laying beside him.

#marvellousaces #maholidaybingo2020 #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #Bucky and Loki #Aromatic Bucky #asexual loki #genderfuid Loki #he/they Loki #roomates #but actually not #platonic #marvel fluff #marvel angst

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carolineworld · 4 years

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“We all need someone to hold” A Zoenne FanFic

Summary: As life goes by, everything gets more and more difficult, but as life goes by, you make relationships and friendships that will help you in every step of the way. At the end of the day, we all need someone to hold.

Zoë has been stressed lately. University is a new chapter for her and being far away from her friends and the flatshare, with the trial coming soon and dealing with all the past demons, everything is stressing her way too much.

University has been great so far. She’s finally studying something she’s passionate about and is one step closer to accomplish her dream, so she can’t complain about that. But that doesn’t mean she can’t complain about anything.

There’s a lot of myths about starting a degree and going to uni to do what you like. It makes a big difference, yeah, ‘cause you’re studying something you enjoy, but sometimes it can still be a pain in the ass. Having to wake up early, the insane amount of projects and essays you have to do and finals coming closer and closer as you try to do everything on time. It’s rewarding and satisfying if you think about what comes next, but the process can sometimes be too much.

Moving has been great too. She’s excited about living on her own, with the love of her life in a super cute apartment that feels like home, but saying goodbye to Milan, Robbe and Lisa has been the hardest part of it, as she had just found her own family. Having to let them go and waking up to a silent house without any weird sounds or some rude interruptions has been sentimental for her. Not to mention this new apartment she lives in is about an hour and a half from her previous apartment, making it a trip to go see them or the girls.

That’s another thing, her girls. Since finishing high school and all of them choosing different paths in life they have physically separated from each other. Thank God Amber has stayed in Antwerp and they can meet up once o twice a week, cause the rest have moved to make their dreams come true, and although they talk every single day and see each other every month, it’s still difficult to experience new and exciting things without them.

And the trial… her never-ending nightmare. Four years have gone by since the incident happened and every time she thinks she has overcome it, every time she changes the autodestructive and self-pity mindset she had, her demons and nightmares come back and stronger than before. The first time was testifying, and that cost her her relationship. The second time was seeing him in the grocery store when she moved, and that caused her an anxiety attack, a trip in the ambulance, and having to calm a really angry and nervous Senne from doing something stupid. And the third one was receiving a call from the courthouse, four years later, to ask her if she could attend the trial for the final sentence, and that cost her yet another anxiety attack and a new phone.

She has been going to therapy ever since it happened, but every time something like that happens, every time she has a nightmare or a panic attack because something triggered her or because of a thought, she goes back into thinking that maybe therapy doesn’t work, she goes back into thinking that she’s broken, that she will always be broken. And thank God she has an amazing support system, as she calls it, to remind her that she isn’t broken, that her incident does not define who she is, and that she is way stronger than she thinks.

So yeah, she’s been stressed lately, so when she’s finally home and all her books and bags are nicely put down and she’s ready to call it a day and finally relax, she cannot believe what she’s seeing.

The living room is filled with pillows, blankets, and twinkly lights, making the room feel so magical and cozy. On the side table, there are her favorite snacks, along with her favorite dish for dinner. The tv has the Netflix sign in it and there are even desserts.

“Senne?” her voice is filled with a million different emotions and her brain refuses to believe what her eyes are seeing, almost as if she can’t process what’s happening.

“In the kitchen”.

Still amazed by the turning events, she walks to the kitchen of their little apartment hugging her body, slightly shivering from the November cold and making a mental note to put on fluffy socks on her way there. Once her feet are covered and warm and she gets to her destination she feels like crying. Looking at him prepare alcohol-free gin-tonics and freshly done hot chocolate just for her makes her heart so warm and heavy.

Over the four years they’ve been together (three and a half if we are exact, but they don’t like to acknowledge the almost six months they spend apart) Zoë has learned that when it comes to expressing himself and his emotions, or when he doesn’t know how to help, Senne uses acts of kindness or acts of service. Over the years he has indeed improved so much into expressing his emotions and thoughts with words, but actions or acts are always his first option. And even though she knows that, he never fails to surprise her every time.

“Have you seen the living room? I thought we could do a movie night, so we can relax” His big smile is all she can see when he approaches her, the drinks in one hand and the other one in her waist, drawing little patterns while he kisses her cheek repeatedly with tiny little kisses. She hums in response, having a hard time expressing her feelings with words. Giving her a proper kiss in the lips, Senne grabs Zoë’s hand and leads her to the living room, smiling widely as he admires his creation.

“What’s all this for?” She asks, sitting down next to the biggest pillow they own, covering herself with the Blanket and looking at Senne doing the same next to her, grabbing the drink he just made.

“You’ve been stressed lately and I couldn’t think of a way to make the stress go away, so I thought that if you relaxed for a bit, maybe that stress could go away, even if it’s only for a few hours” He gives her her drink and while she sips a bit from it he turns back to grab the little tray of snacks he has made, offering them to her with a proud smile.

“Thank you, Senne, you didn’t have to do all of this” honest gratitude glows in her eyes as she carefully lets her drink on the floor and goes to give him a big hug and a sweet kiss, whispering ‘thank you’ every time they separate from a kiss.

After a few minutes of kissing and whispering sweet words to each other’s ears, they start eating the food Senne has prepared, talking about each other’s day, the upcoming assignments they have to do for this week, and how’s been going at work. Laughs and jokes fill the room as the night falls outside the window, being unnoticeable to the young couple in love. Hours go by as the food and the drinks disappear and the two of them cuddle up in the little fort Senne built for them watching Zoë’s favorite movie.

Once the movie is about to end and Senne looks down he finds Zoë happily asleep, her fist grabbing the blanket and hugging Senne’s arm close to her chest, cuddling up to him. A happy smile is on her face and at that moment she looks free and calm, no stress bothering her. Whispering a silent “everything for you, my love” Senne picks her up and takes her to their room, putting her down carefully and going to the bathroom to grab a makeup removing wipe, as she forgot to take her makeup off before falling asleep on him. After her face is all clean he makes sure to let the living room and the kitchen as tidy as possible before going back to bed.

And yeah, Zoë’s been pretty stressed lately but gestures like this, and people like him, make everything so much easier.

1366 words

#fanfic #zoenne #zoe x senne #wtfock #wtfam #zoe loockx #senne de smet

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cristinablackthornkingson · 5 years

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Shadowhunters Short Story #54. The birth of Kit Herondale.

It is a cold, wintry day in early 1997 when Rosemary Herondale finds out both the best and worst news of her life. Since November Rosemary has been feeling very odd but has paid little attention to it recently since she and Jack have been moving around so much. Right now they are living in a small 2 bedroom house in Los Angeles and have been here since late November. Now that they are no longer travelling around, Rosemary has not been able to keep her mind off how unwell she is feeling, so about an hour ago, just before Jack came home from the Shadow Market, Rosemary went to the local pharmacy and bought a pregnancy test and it came up positive almost immediately.

The idea of having a baby is both thrilling and terrifying, Rosemary loves the idea of having a baby and being a mother but she is also terrified of the threat her lineage poses to her baby. At the minute she is sincerely considering adoption, as much as it would break her heart, it would be best for the baby.

“Rosie? Are you home?” Rosemary hears Jack calling for her from the living room. Wiping at her tears, Rosemary tucks the pregnancy test into her pocket and pulls herself up from the cold tile floor, where she has been sitting for the past few minutes, staring at the pregnancy test and trying to figure out what to do.

“How was The Shadow Market? Did you make any money?” Rosemary lightly asks when she walks out of the bathroom and into the living room where Jack is standing.

“Yes I did, it was quiet a good night actually.” Jack replies. Rosemary smiles weakly at him, her heart racing as she thinks about telling him her news.

“So you know how I haven’t been feeling well lately?” She begins, in a nervous tone.

“Yeah, why?” Jack replies.

“I-I found out why that is today. Jack... I-I’m pregnant.” Jack’s eyes widen in disbelief.

“But.. but we were careful, we always use a condom, a-and you said you got that mundane pill.” Jack stammers. It is true that a few months ago Rosemary went to a mundane doctor and got the contraceptive pill, but truth be told she has never been good at remembering to take it and has missed quiet a few.

“I did but... I forgot to take it a few times and the mundane doctor said it’s not 100% effective unless I take it every day without fail, so I guess I missed enough pills for it not to work.” Rosemary quietly says, tears forming in her eyes.

“W-what are we going to do Rosie? We can’t have a baby, we can’t travel around with a baby!” Jack exclaims.

“I... I don’t know Jack, I want this baby so badly and I think we can manage it. I can easily hide my pregnancy, if everything is smooth and easy I don’t need to see even a mundane doctor, and if things get complicated I can call on that Brother Zachariah, with this.” Rosemary holds up her heron necklace which Brother Zachariah has enchanted to allow her to call for him if she ever needs him. “And things are good here in LA, I think we might be safe here, if nothing happens through my pregnancy we can stay here.” She adds in a hopeful tone, placing her hand over her stomach. Rosemary hated all the moving her family did when she was a child, and she does not want the same for her son, but she is feeling optimistic that they may have finally escaped the Riders Of Manon, for once and for all.

“Rosemary I don’t think this is a good idea, even if we have managed to evade The Riders, this baby will still have Shadowhunter blood and need the protective spells placed on him and if we’re hiding from the Clave we can’t exactly call on The Silent Brother and Iron Sisters can we?” Jack gently says, not wanting to upset Rosemary. Secretly he’s not just trying to convince his wife not to have this baby because of the risks a baby poses to them, but because he doesn’t want a baby, not now not ever, and he never thought Rosemary would want a child either.

“He won’t need the protection runes, he won’t be raised as a Shadowhunter, we’ll keep him away from The Shadow Market and other such places and won’t have him around when you have clients, as long as we can keep him away from the Shadowhunters and the Faeries, we can keep him safe.” Rosemary calmly yet firmly says. She trusts Brother Zachariah, just about, but not an Iron Sister, and the protection runes cannot be placed without an Iron Sister, but her baby will be just fine without them, she’ll make sure of that.

“And you really trust this Brother Zachariah not to report us to The Clave if we end up needing him?” Jack asks, trying not to let his anger out.

“Yes, yes I do. I want this baby Jack, and I’m keeping it, with or without you.You can leave if you want but if you’re going to do then do it now.” Rosemary firmly says, holding back her tears. She loves Jack with all her heart and the thought of him leaving her breaks her heart, but she is not going to choose him over her baby.

Jack sighs and runs his hands through his hair before grasping Rosemary’s hands in his.

“Of course I’m not going to leave you Rosie, I love you, I’m just worried about how a baby will affect us.” He softly says. Rosemary smiles weakly and says

“You have nothing to worry about Jack, a baby is only going to make our relationship even stronger, I understand that you’re nervous but you’ll feel different when the baby is here.” Jack smiles softly and brushes Rosemary’s hair back from her face.

“I hope so.” He quietly says, hoping that he can grow to love this baby, for Rosemary’s sake.

Over the next few weeks Rosemary grows to love her baby more and more and becomes more and more determined to keep them safe. Throughout the whole pregnancy she is extremely cautious, watching our for blood every time she changes, eating healthy, getting plenty of exercise, being careful not to strain herself or stress herself out, and when the baby begins to kick she counts the kicks every single day, doing everything she can to ensure her baby is safe and healthy. Jack has grown distant throughout the pregnancy, staying out later, going out to work earlier, changing the subject every time Rosemary brings up the baby, not wanting to have sex, and barely acknowledging the fact that they are going to have a baby.

Right now Rosemary is just a few weeks from her due date and has everything ready for the birth. She has done some research throughout the pregnancy about how to have a natural home birth, and read a lot about water births, so she has decided to labor and deliver in the bathtub with only Jack’s assistance, or Brother Zachariah’s if anything goes amiss.

“I can’t believe this little one could be here any day now. I’ve been thinking about names, what do you think of Christopher for a boy and Grace for a girl?” Rosemary softly asks Jack, turning to look at him sitting next to her on the sofa.

“Yeah fine, whatever you want. Look Rosie are you really sure about not having a midwife or anyone around for the birth? I’m worried about what could happen to you.” Jack quietly says in a tone full of fear and worry.

“I’m sure Jack, I want to keep as low a profile as possible, and if I even think anything is wrong, I will use my necklace to summon Brother Zachariah.” Rosemary assures him.

“Maybe we could ask him to be here just in case?” Jack hopefully asks, worried beyond belief for his wife’s well being.

“No Jack that’s not what I want and you know that, everything will be fine, okay?” Rosemary softly says, gently squeezing her husband’s hand. Jack sighs, knowing that there’s no point in arguing with Rosemary anymore, his wife is one of the most stubborn people he met, it’s one of the things that made him fall in love with her when they met at 16.

“Alright, well I better head out, The Shadow Market will be starting up soon, I need to set up and get a good spot.” Jack says, pushing himself off the sofa and grabbing his car keys.

“Do you have to go now? It’s only 8:00, the market doesn’t start till 10:00, right?” Rosemary asks, hurt and upset that her husband clearly is eager to get away from her and not spend time with her.

“Yeah but like I said I need to set up and stuff, don’t wait up for me, you and the baby need all the rest you can get, see you in the morning.” Jack says, brushing a kiss across her forehead before walking out the door.

Rosemary sighs and runs a hand down her swollen stomach, holding back her tears of frustration.

“I don’t get it baby, ever since we found out about you, your dad has been so distant and quiet, I don’t think he wants to be a dad, but I gave him the chance to walk away and he didn’t take it, i don’t know what to do.” Rosemary quietly says, tracing patterns on her swollen stomach, her mind racing with thoughts of how to save her marriage. Just then, Rosemary feels an intense wave-like pain wash over her, starting from her back and moving to the front of her lower abdomen.

Rosemary scrunches her face up in pain and can’t hold back a groan of pain. When the pain passes a few minutes later, Rosemary scrambles for her phone on the side table beside the sofa, and dials Jack’s number with shaky hands, praying he will pick up.

“Rosemary this really isn’t a great time, I’m just pulling up to The Market.” Jack says in a tone of annoyance, causing Rosemary’s stomach to sink.

“I-I Jack I think...I think the baby is coming.” She stammers.

“Are you sure?”Jack asks, his tone more alert now.

“N-no but I can’t imagine the pain I just had was a fake contraction.” Rosemary says.

“Okay I’m coming home, I’ll be home in five minutes.” Jack firmly says, hanging up before Rosemary can reply.

On shaky legs, Rosemary slowly makes her way to the bathroom and starts to run herself a bath, before changing into just a long, over sized tank top.

10 minutes later Jack comes in to find Rosemary sitting in the bathtub with a basin, scissors, towels and blankets laid out on the closed toilet seat lid.

“Rosie are you alright?” Jack softly asking, kneeling beside the bath and grasping his wife’s hand in his. Rosemary grips his hand tightly and nods while gritting her teeth.

“Y-yeah, the water helps the pain.” Rosemary says in a breathy tone. Jack softly rubs her back and kisses her temple, wanting to be here to support his wife through this, even if he doesn’t want the baby that’s about to be born.

Rosemary’s labor is long and painful but thankfully totally uncomplicated. She labors throughout the rest of the night. A few times Rosemary gets out of the bath and lies on the sofa for a while, and tries to grab some sleep. By the time 8:00 a.m. rolls around, Rosemary is ready to push, and she pushes for an hour in total. Right now she is just seconds from bringing her baby into the world.

Rosemary takes a deep breath and pushes down once more, and seconds later she feels a weight lift from her. With a gasp, Rosemary reaches down into the water and scoops her baby into her arms and they let out a loud wail.

“Oh my god, oh baby hi, hi baby I love you so much. Oh Jack we have a boy.” Rosemary says in a breathy, teary tone, holding her baby tightly against her chest, tears of joy rolling down her face. Jack laughs lightly, unable to believe what he just witnessed, he has a whole new level of admiration and appreciation for his wife, and now that the baby is here, Jack is beginning to change his mind about him, perhaps having a baby won’t be the worst thing in the world.

“He’s beautiful.” Jack softly says, stroking the baby’s blood streaked cheek.

“Christopher, Christopher Jonathan Rook. What do you think of Kit as a nickname for him Jack?” Rosemary softly asks, gazing down at her son, her heart swelling with a love she never knew she could feel.

“I like it.” Jack agrees, smiling at his wife and son.

Rosemary presses her lips to Kit’s forehead and breathes in his scent.

“My sweet Kit, mommy loves you so much Kit.” She coos, running her hand over his thin wispy blonde hair, identical to her own. Kit begins to blink open his eyes, revealing beautiful big blue eyes just like his mother’s, and stares up at her with fascination and love. “He’s so perfect.” She adds in a tight tone, tears welling up and spilling down her cheeks.

“Yes he is, do you want to get out get dried and dressed now? I can’t imagine it’s very comfortable sitting in a lukewarm bath with blood and afterbirth.” Jack says in an amused tone.

“Yes and then I can feed him, can you dress him while I dry and change?” Rosemary asks, holding the baby out to Jack.

“Maybe you should do it Rosie, I don’t want to hurt him.” Jack says, leaning away from her outstretched arms, terrified of hurting his son.

“Jack, I know you’re scared, I am too, but I need your help, you promised you’d help me, I gave you the chance to walk away and you didn’t take it, you said you wanted to stay with me.” Rosemary quietly says, wishing Jack would be more supportive of her, wishing her mother was still around to help her now, wishing she had anyone to help her with the baby and to help her and Jack adjust to parenthood.

“I do want to stay with you Rosie, of course I do, but I’m no good with kids, you are, I’ve seen you with the little orphans at the Shadow Markets and little mundane kids out and about, you’re great with kids and you’re going to be a great mom, I can be the one to provide for us and you can look after Christopher.” Jack hurriedly explains, not wanting to hurt and upset Rosemary, but needing her to understand where he is coming from and why he is reluctant to be alone with the baby.

“Jack that will never work, I can’t do this alone, I won’t be able to do much physically in the next few weeks while I recover, I’m going to need your help washing him and dressing him and getting him to sleep, the only thing I can do on my own is feed him but even that might not work out and then I’ll need your help there too, I can’t raise him alone Jack, and he needs his dad.” Rosemary pleads with her husband, wondering if she should have given Christopher up like she had thought of doing early in her pregnancy, wondering if he would’ve had his best shot with someone else.

“I... I guess I can at least try and get him dressed while you get changed and dried.” Jack says, giving in to his wife’s pleas, feeling horrific and guilty for already being such a bad father to Christopher and being such a letdown to Rosemary.

An hour later Rosemary has dried off and changed from her wet, bloody top into a soft baggy t-shirt and a loose pair of cotton shorts. Jack had not managed to get Christopher dressed so Rosemary did that before getting into bed with Jack’s help and settling down with Christopher to feed him. Right now she is lying on her side, with Christopher beside her, nursing, and Jack lying on his side of the bed, facing her.

“I really can’t do this alone Jack.” Rosemary quietly says, stroking her son’s few tufts of golden blonde hair, still amazed over the love she feels for this little boy.

“I know, I know and I promise I will do my best to help out, both in terms of providing for us and in terms of helping out with Kit.” Jack promises, vowing to himself that he will try his damnedest to love this kid as much as Rosemary clearly does, despite not wanting to he will do his best to bond with Kit and take care of him, because that is what Rosemary wants, and he will do anything for Rosemary.

Later that night when Rosemary and Jack are awoken to the baby crying in his bassinet, Jack doesn’t move, hoping Rosemary will take care of it, this time at least.

“Jack can you get him? It hurts so much for me to get up.” Rosemary asks her husband in a pained tone, also fighting to stay awake and keep her eyes open after such a long, difficult evening.

Holding back a sigh, Jack agrees and pads over to the bassinet by Rosemary’s side of the bed, where little Kit is lying wide awake, his blue eyes shimmering with tears.

“Hey buddy, what’s wrong, you got a dirty diaper?” Jack quietly says, bending down to lift his son up and awkwardly cradle him, like Rosemary had shown him earlier. He takes him over to the small changing station they had set up in the corner of the room, lays him down and begins to snap open the buttons on his onsie. The minute Kit realizes what’s going on, he starts to scream bloody murder at the top of his lungs, causing Jack to fumbled with the straps on his diaper and become flustered. “Shhh Kit, quiet, you’re distracting me.” Jack grumbles, wincing as Kit’s shrieking cries grow higher in pitch and louder in tone. After another few seconds of unsuccessfully changing the baby, Jack feels his patience grow extremely thin. “Oh for God’s sake I can’t do this!” Jack exclaims, throwing the diaper down and turning away from the screaming baby. A few seconds later Rosemary hears their bedroom door open and close, followed shortly by the roar of the car engine. Forgetting her pain, Rosemary pushes herself up and hurries across the room to the changing table, where her poor baby has been left with no diaper, half naked and unassisted on a high surface he would easily roll off of.

“Oh shh baby it’s okay, mama’s got you now, lets get you cleaned up.” Rosemary coos to the baby, quickly getting him cleaned up, into a new diaper and buttoned back into his onsie. She then lifts him up and holds him against her shoulder, kissing his little cheek as cries die down and he snuggles into her. “Your daddy’s just having a hard time adjusting Kit, and that’s okay, but he should never have left you alone on the changing station, I don’t think I can trust him alone with you.” She quietly says, settling into the rocking chair beside the changing station, cradling Kit in her arms so they can look at each other. “You are the most precious thing in the whole world my baby boy, you are my everything and I will do everything and anything I can to keep you safe, I love you so much.” She whispers, letting Kit grip onto her finger, holding her precious baby tight and close, breathing in his scent and thanking whatever higher power is out there, for blessing her with the most perfect baby there ever was.

16 years later, to the day, after having to leave her son and then sacrificing her life for him, Rosemary’s spirit watches proudly as Kit sits between Tessa and Jem Carstairs with their daughter Mina in his lap, happier than she has ever seen him.

“You know sixteen seems to be the age when most people find the one they’re meant to be with, Tessa met Will and I when she was sixteen, Clary met Jace at sixteen, Isabelle met Simon at sixteen, maybe you’ll find someone now, I’ve seen the way you look at that boy who works in the shop down the road, you like him don’t you?” Jem teases Kit, causing him to flush bright red.

“Maybe.” Kit quietly admits, shrugging his shoulders.

“You should ask him out.” Tessa encourages,wanting Kit to be happy.

“Mom I’m pretty sure he’s straight, it’s just a little crush, no big deal.” Kit says.

“I thought you said no one was 100% straight.” Jem jokingly says, smiling at the memory of Kit ranting about how he firmly believes no one is entirely straight, it reminded him of the way Will use to behave.

“Oh I did say that didn’t I? Well I’m not really interested in him anyway, like I said, it’s just a small crush, anyway I don’t think Mina would approve of having to share my attention with my boyfriend or girlfriend, would you Min-Min?” Kit says, holding his six month old sister above his head, causing her to shriek with laughter.

“By the angel Kit be careful, she’s a wriggly little thing.” Jem says in a worried tone, ready to leap forward and catch Mina if she wriggles out of her brother’s grip.

“Relax dad I’ve got her, you’re such a worry-wart.” Kit says in a light tone, lowering Mina down onto his lap and tipping her back toward the floor, keeping a firm grip on her waist. “Mina loves when I do dangerous stuff with her, she can’t help it, she’s a Shadowhunter.” He adds, smiling as Mina laughs loudly at her brother’s antics.

“I can’t help it either, you’re my kids, the most precious things in the world to me, I’m always going to worry about you.” Jem says, ruffling Kit’s hair and kissing Mina’s cheek.

“The same goes for me you know, I’m just use to this because James and Lucie were even more reckless than you and Mina.” Tessa says in an amused tone, getting up from her seat and bending to kiss both her children on the cheek.

“Mom!” Kit exclaims in a tone of embarrassment. Tessa laughs and pats his cheek lightly.

“Just letting you know I love you.” Tessa says, giving Mina another kiss and untangling her little hand from her hair. Tessa then heads out to the kitchen to get Kit’s present from Mina, leaving Jem teasing Kit about his love-life.

As Tessa rummages through the cupboard to find the present she and Jem had bought for Kit but signed in Mina’s name, she swears she feels a presence behind her and a soft, feminine voice quietly says

“Thank you for loving my son, thank you for being his mother.” She whips around but sees nothing there. Shrugging it off as a trick of the mind, Tessa grabs the gift and heads back into her husband and children, while Rosemary is able to rest peacefully knowing her son is cared for and loved.

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something-in-the-seas · 5 years

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November 18th, 1968

Ryan proves that he has not learned a thing since Bioshock.

“Sally can say whatever she wants, just because she was one of the millions born today does not give her authority over me.”

One would think that after nearly ten years of dealing with Andrew Ryan, Jack would be immune to his rants and demands, but his father was exhausting. Truly exhausting. Just attempting to have a simple conversation with him was draining. He could say the sky was blue and Ryan would then argue that the sky was actually green. Or, he could say that the weather was nice, and Ryan would then complain about how it was too hot or cold for his liking. Nothing ever satisfied him.

Jack supposed it was to be expected given how devoted he was to his beloved city. He put his heart, soul, everything he had into its creation, including his billion-dollar fortune, which, in turn, kept him trapped here; with them. None of his rich buddies in New York cared enough about him, Ryan alienated practically every ally he had there by considering them too ‘simple’ for his grand utopia. Besides, if any of them were as callous he was, they would have laughed him right of the city for daring to ask for a handout. Hell, not even the media cared. When word got around that he had somehow been spotted on the shores of Saratoga Falls after nearly twenty years, the only mention of it was a small paragraph in The National Enquirer. The grand return of the prodigal son was instead a fizzle; unbefitting for the once richest man in America.

And so, Andrew Ryan was stuck in a small town, full of people he loathed, depending on his ‘greatest disappointment’ to provide for him in his senior years. It was like some twisted purgatory for him, but instead of somehow learning from this and bettering himself as a person, he decided to make everyone as miserable as him. If he couldn’t be happy, no one could.

How very collectivist of him.

“Dad, it’s gonna take five minutes tops,” Jack said as he rubbed his temples. Yep, there was that migraine. “Come on, all she wants is for everyone to be here.”

“Everyone will be here, and when they arrive, they can go to the fridge and take a slice,” Ryan replied with a wave of his hand. “I’m sure there will be plenty left unless your wife sucks them down like the human vacuum cleaner she’s become lately.”

Jack scowled. “You don’t talk about Elizabeth like that, you got me?” he warned, wagging his finger.

And the older man crossed his arms and huffed, as if he were a child being scolded. “General Hospital is almost on, it is the one fulfilling thing I have left in my life, so I demand silence while I watch it.”

“You want to watch your soap opera? Fine, you can watch your soap opera. I’m sure Sally will compromise with you and we can do cake during a commercial break.”

Ryan shook his head. “No, that will not work.”

“What do you mean that won’t work?”

“ABC’s commercials are only thirty-seconds long, I’d miss too much in the time it takes for you to gawk at the cake, snap unnecessary pictures, and harmonize off each other like hyenas in coitus.”

Leta, who had been silent the entire time, cringed at that lovely metaphor. She looked at her father to see what he was going to say next, but frankly he didn’t know how to respond. His blood pressure was sky-rocketing. It was taking everything in him not to lose his patience, which was exactly what his father wanted so he could have the upper-hand.

If Ryan’s stubbornness was genetic, Jack was really going to be in trouble in the next few years with the baby.

Thankfully, what sounded to be a herd of elephants stomping down the steps meant that his two other girls. Sally and Masha, were coming down, and with them, his wife. Finally, a united front. Dealing with Andrew Ryan was a family affair and he desperately needed reinforcements.

Ryan reacted appropriately for a man of his age when cornered by his son, his pregnant daughter-in-law, and three teenage girls. He huffed like a toddler during a tantrum. It was a pitiful sight. For a man who used his wealth and talents to build the most advanced societies ever conceived to get away from welfare to pout in his bathrobe and bunny slippers as he relied on his son to survive must have been humiliating.

But, Andrew Ryan would never admit defeat. That would take away the last shred of dignity he desperately clung onto. From an underwater city full of deranged addicts to soap operas and birthday cake, he’d go down kicking and screaming, never admitting being wrong or pinning the blame on someone else.

Sally’s the first one to speak. Unlike the other girls, who were much more combative and aggressive when it came to ‘debating’ with their grandfather, she had a different approach. “Grandpa, I know you want to watch your show,” she began as she sat on the edge of the kitchen table, playing with one of the straps of her faded, pink denim jumper shorts. “And, of course, your happiness matters. So, we can do cake after your show is over, how does that sound.”

Ryan paused for a moment. His brows furrowed as he put a hand to his chin. Jack was impressed. It was looking as if she had him, a nigh impossible feat. “No.”

“What do you mean no?” Sally, taken aback, asked incredulously.

“What, you can’t spare five minutes of your time to sing?”

“No, I cannot, Elizabeth,” the older man replied matter-of-factly.

Leta, who had been silent since entering the kitchen with Jack, finally chimed in. “You get to watch your show, though? Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“After the show is over at nine, it will be my bedtime.”

“Bedtime?” Masha scoffed with a smirk. “What are you? Five?”

“No, it is called aging, Masha!” Ryan snapped, his eyes narrowing at the fifteen-year-old. “And while it may be hard to understand due to your youth and the seemingly infinite energy that comes with it, as people grow old, they get tired earlier. Therefore, they have to go to sleep earlier.”

“Oh, so you’re Benjamin Button, then? Got it, with every passing year, you turn more into a man-child.”

“Very smart, Masha. I’m surprised you knew that reference. I would think it’s too old and complicated for your small, feeble mind, unlike, say The Beatles high on whatever brain-frying drugs they take to spew their bolshevik propaganda garbage-”

Elizabeth put her hands on her hips. “Sally’s willing to hold off and wait until your show is over, and here you are, doing what you always do: being selfish and inconsiderate of everyone else around you!” Her lips pursed. “One day. That’s all we were hoping for. One day of you just going with the flow and not arguing-”

“Well, then let’s just do cake now then!”

“We’re waiting for Janice and Rosie! I want everybody here so we can all do this as a family!” Sally said, though her sweet facade was beginning to crack and show a hint of annoyance.

“And there will be plenty of cake left for them when they are here!”

The stress-induced migraine Jack had finally reached its boiling point. He was putting his foot down, figuratively and literally. He pressed his finger into his father’s chest. “You’re doing cake with us no matter what time we do it, and that’s final,” he hissed. “I don’t care if it’s three in the morning, your ass is going to be there.”

“Or what? You’ll drag me out of bed?” Ryan asked, staring down at his son’s much larger finger as if it were a joke. “Frankly, this country may be a husked shell of what it used to be, but I know I am well within my rights to go to bed when I please and you can’t force me to do anything.”

Jack scowled. His index finger poked deeper.

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“You thought that ten years ago,” the younger man said. “You really want to test that hypothesis again?”

That seemed to change Ryan’s tune. His bemused, smug expression dropped as his brows raised and eyes shot open. He glanced down at the finger jammed into his chest and then back up at his son’s frown for a few seconds before slowly brushing away his hand. “I see, you have made your point.”

“I know what’s going on.” Masha chortled, nudging at Leta with her elbow. “He doesn’t want to meet Janice’s new boy-toy, Daniel-”

“David,” Elizabeth corrected.

“Yeah, sure, David,” Masha continued, rolling her eyes. “Why else would he want to do cake now and run up to bed with his tail between his legs?”

“I’m not running with my tail between my legs. As I recall, I am not a dog, but a human being, Masha, and human beings do not have tails-”

“Oh, shut the fuck up-”

“Hold on, this is what the problem is?” Jack put his hand up, silencing everyone. Now it was all starting to make sense. “Janice’s boyfriend? Really?”

Ryan crossed his arms. “You know how these college kids are today! They all fall into the collectivist group mentality and are pumped out by schools to hate the free market! The very same system that has given their mommy and daddy wealth and the cushy, comfortable life they have!” He turned his head away and huffed. “Especially in California, the breeding ground of parasitic degenerates like those goddamn hippies.”

“You haven’t even met the kid and you’re already got him out to be a bum!” Jack cried.

“Oh, but I have heard plenty about him! He’s from California! I bet he’s ‘free-spirited.’ A real ‘bohemian.’” Ryan said with finger quotes. “The last thing we need is her bringing a hippie into the house. They don’t bathe because they believe all the water on Earth is going to magically dissipate, so they roll around in their own filth. Like bringing a farm animal into your home.”

Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Janice wouldn’t date a slob, Andrew.”

“You don’t know what that college has done to her! It’s changing her!”

“Whatever you say.” Jack shook his head. “Listen, they’re going to be home in the next ten minutes so I’m expecting you to be on your best behavior-”

Ryan was flabbergasted. “I am not a child, son-”

“Then stop acting like one,” he replied as the group began to disperse. “You’re going to be there for cake and you’re going to be nothing but polite to David. End of discussion.”

“Now, wait a minute-”

Jack wrapped his arm around his wife and led her out of the room, but not before waving his hand, his back turned away from his father. “No, no, this discussion is over.”

And before Ryan could open his mouth again to argue, he was alone in the kitchen. He turned his attention down to the floor, where Spot, the nine-week-old Australian Shepherd laid, completely exhausted from barking at a beetle an hour prior. The puppy blinked at him.

“I’ll tell you this,” he said. “I’m not shaking that parasite’s hand. I’d rather not risk getting the bubonic plague, thank you.”

Spot tilted his head. His big ears flopped over.

“Well, at least you listen.”

#aftershock #bioshock #andrew ryan #jack wynand #jack ryan #elizabeth comstock #sally ryan #leta ryan #masha lutz #masha ryan #spot #in which Ryan proves to be awful #1968

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rebelwheels-blog · 5 years

Text

You Are The Universe Experiencing Itself

January 30, 2018

Do not become / A “new you”. / This year, / Become / A better You.

Hello there, loyal readers. This update is going to have quite a quantity of information shared with you all, so be prepared not to be able to read all of this in one sitting. I’ll have headings as I usually do so that if there is something anyone wants to skip over, it’s easier to do so.

Hair and Color

More than two months ago, I decided that I needed a change. I’d had my red hair for so long, then ended up growing it out for various reasons, and I feel like having dyed hair makes it easier for strangers to come up to me and start a conversation. So, I booked an appointment with my hairdresser. Well, not my usual hairdresser, as he moved to another salon, but this one was friends with my trusted hairdresser. Plus, she did my dad’s hair, so I figured why not?

I wrote this a while back to post as another entry, but ended up not publishing it because, well, we’ll get to that later.

November 12, 2018

Got my hair cut and colored today. I have been deliberating on getting my hair cut lately as my hairdresser moved salons, and It’s about a half hour away… My hair has been kind of a touchy subject lately. But my dad convinced me that I was beginning to look a little too shaggy, or as he so eloquently put It, “homeless”. So, I booked an appointment with Annie, who cuts his hair and my grandmother’s, but today was our first time doing my hair. She’s a really cool individual plus she’s friends with my hairdresser so I figured I’d give her a try.

I’m really glad I did! She did an absolutely amazing job! My head fell only about three times and getting it colored was painless. Between her being careful but confident, and my Spinraza strengthened muscles, and Dad when he was needed, the three of us made a good team.

Originally, I was just going to do blue highlights. I’ve missed having my hair as a talking point for strangers, and I didn’t want to do red again, so I figured why not do something totally seemingly out of character?! I’ve thought about doing crazy colors before, but I have the confidence of a… Okay, everything has more confidence than I do when it comes to my appearance or personality. Anyway, I’ve been slowly trying to get back to my old cheerful self that did what she wanted to do because It made her happy, not because she wanted to Impress someone other than herself.

So that’s what I did.

When Annie showed me the shade of blue that I was thinking of doing, it was on a ring of other colors as well. In noticing this, an Idea was forming in my head, with the conversation that I had with my grandmother playing in the background.

“May I see the purple?” I asked with curiosity.

Who said I only had to have one color highlighted into my hair?

That’s how I ended up with glorious highlights of blue and purple.

It wasn’t until about two months later that I got to refresh my glorious cosmic hair, as my hairdresser had gotten sick the day I was originally going to redo it, and then I got sick on the day I rebooked with her. Which leads me into my next heading.

A Spin On Colds

Yes, that’s right, ladies and gentlemen, I got sick recently. Directly after Christmas, in fact. It was rather an interesting holiday this year as my grandfather came down with something right before my aunt flew in from New Jersey. So instead of spending Christmas with my grandparents like we have every year prior, my aunt and I slept over at my dad’s, so I wasn’t near germs. I have, I’m sorry, I had managed to stay healthy and not get sick for almost two years this coming February. However, after three late nights, and exhibiting much more energy than I have for quite a few years, my body ended up giving in to the sick life. This time, though, something was different. This time, I didn’t go downhill like I always do. This time, I got a regular old head cold.

Yeah, I couldn’t believe it either. That first morning when my sore throat began to break, I coughed, and I sounded like I was drowning. Just like every sickness I’ve had to endure since I first started this seemingly endless battle with my own body back in 2015. My dad sounded more irritated than I can describe when he heard this cough first thing that morning, but nonetheless turned me on my side like I do every morning to get my glug out and set up my nebulizer to give me a treatment. Granted, I believe it may have been an hour that it took to get this stuff out, but the thing is, I got it out. And it stayed out. It would come back a bit every so often and if I didn’t keep up with my decongestants along with my nebulizer treatments, I’d end up getting really stuffy and would feel an allergy tickle in my sore throat, but it never went beyond this. One of the days, though, my throat hurt so much that I had to use my phone to communicate by having it read off the words I was typing. Luckily, that only lasted for one day. The day after that, it still didn’t feel great and I had to periodically have my phone talk for me, but this was all normal. No drowning in my own lungs, no wishing it would all just end, no epic depression after realizing I was sick again. Just felt… Sick.

Now, this is something absolutely huge in my life because I now know that if I do get sick, this is all that will happen. I now don’t have to live in constant paranoia that if I get sick, I might die. Why have I come to this conclusion? How could I possibly know that this wasn’t just a fluke and that this wasn’t just a coincidence? Well, first off, I don’t believe in coincidences. Secondly, I would have to have absolutely no knowledge of my own body to think that this situation will not replicate itself. Every single time I got sick before, it didn’t matter if it was from pain, stress, fatigue, whatever, I would end up going downhill and not being able to breathe without extreme fear of drowning without my Bipap. This time, I spent one full day with my breathing helper and I was actually able to eat. Which was absolutely amazing since my appetite has been rather small since my fifth Spinraza injection, resulting in me eating less and less which most likely did not help my body fight off this cold in the first place. Since I got over my sickness about a week and a half after coming down with it, my appetite has luckily increased. Dinner isn’t fun trying to get down still, but the rest of the day I am actually eating.

I cannot vocalize enough how grateful I am for being able to say that Spinraza has absolutely turned my life on its axis. If it weren’t for this incredible medication, I do not believe that my cold would have simply stayed as a cold the way it is supposed to.

A week ago, I did finally end up getting my hair redone and I am absolutely in love with it again as I actually went back to my pixie cut.

Cue cheesy smile

Written in the Stars

Even though Christmas was not at all what we had anticipated, there were a few good things that came out of it. I managed to send my friend in New Jersey a home made present created by yours truly, which in turn showed me that I can actually sew with a needle and thread now. I got photos with Santa and his wife who travel around my grandparent’s neighborhood with the fire department and a fireman came up to me with a hat saying I could come work for them any time I wished. I was buzzing by the end of that night even when I knew we couldn’t have our normal Christmas Eve dinner together. My family discovered that our long-time friends and neighbors were our secret Santa that did the 12 Days of Christmas with a gift waiting outside our front door every day from the fourteenth of December to the twenty-fifth. But what really made an impact on me this Christmas was what was in my stocking. A book. But not just any book, no, this book was a book of poetry. Light Filters In written by Caroline Kaufman was in my stocking and when I read the poem written on page eleven, I felt as though I was reading my own thoughts. For the first time, what I had been trying to explain to others, but mostly myself, was written down in this two-hundred poem book created by a female the same age as I am.

Poetry has been a fairly large interest of mine since I had to write my poem for class which I added to my video for the SMA Video Contest. Especially once my dad introduced me to The Doors when he made me watch the movie with Val Kilmer starring as Jim Morrison. That man made me want to write more poetry, then I read Ms. Kaufman’s poetry and I decide that I will follow in her footsteps, but with my own spin of my tires. So far, I have twenty-three poems written and I am not stopping there. Especially when all of this made me realize that I have been writing poetry for most of my life without even being conscious of it. I’ve always loved trying to write songs, but I could never figure out a chorus. I thought poetry had to rhyme, but I realized that this is a fallacy. Which has opened a portal that I never knew existed.

Which kind of brings me to my next topic, which is going to be under this heading because this is all pretty connected.

As I mentioned earlier, I entered a contest that was to explain what it is like living with SMA for me. I placed fourth, but I had and have absolutely no idea how to promote my creations. However, the first, second, and third place winners did. The reason why I am bringing this up is due to an email I received a few weeks back. Writing this down is not easy, even though I never knew him personally, he was and is a part of the SMA family and participated in the same contest I decided to partake in. Ryan Cotter, the third-place winner, passed away at the beginning of December due to complications caused by the disease we both endure. He was 17 years old and excited to attend college after he graduated this year and was accepted to Arizona State University’s Digital Culture degree program as he was fascinated by the creation of videos and luckily, he had the utilities to allow him to experiment and fulfill his want to create with technology.

Now, I have had this information in my possession for a few weeks now and I honestly have no idea where to pocket it. Hence this update being much later than I had intended. I am about to confess something that may or may not end up bringing hate mail in my comments or inbox, but I feel like this information needs to be out there. Ryan ended up impacting me in a way that I never imagined I could be impacted.

I never liked being around, associated with, or promoting the fact that I am apart of a disabled community. I never wanted to do the video contest as it ended up making me relive my darkest moments. I never made it all the way through each video that was also entered into the contest because I could not bare to see others like me. I never like the fact that I am disabled and never want anyone to acknowledge that I am unless it involves my limitations as I’ll end up beating myself up over something I cannot do if it is brought to my attention.

All of these things kept me from watching Ryan Cottor’s video before he passed. All of these things kept me from discovering that he and I had a lot in common and that we could have developed a friendship. All because I was selfish and did what I get angry at everyone else for doing. Judging someone before I get to know them. Due to this, I have been a big ball of guilty energy. I know that I cannot change the past, I know it’s a bit too late to ask for forgiveness, but I would give every injection I have had of Spinraza to him if it meant he could have lived the life he should have lived. However, this is only something that can happen in my imagination, so what I will do to try and set things right is to allow myself to become a better version of myself. Isn’t that what everyone else does this time of year? Make new years resolutions? Well this is mine.

I promise to become a better version of myself that has theories to suit facts instead of facts to suit theories. To know absolutely everything I can about a situation before believing I already do. To be an advocate for the disabled community that will not sugarcoat the truth to make it easier to swallow.

I may appear cynical at times, but the reality behind having such a debilitating disease is not a kind one. However, there are those like Ryan who would never allow that to be his reality, which allowed him to live life the way he wanted to. Not all of us are that fearless, but we can strive to be. The way I will strive to be fearless is to put together a book of poetry written by yours truly. Becoming an even better writer is what I will work on this year. I have taken my six months off, now it’s time to work. I don’t know if I will go to college, I don’t know if I will suddenly be able to walk with Spinraza leading the way like Venom does for Eddie when he heals him after his motorcycle accident, I don’t know if a celestial anomaly will hit the earth while I sleep and wipe out humanity’s only home, I don’t know if I will ever pluck up the courage to tell someone I love them, I don’t know if the next time I get sick that I will be able to get well again. None of us have any guarantees in this world, so we have to live it without fear and with an understanding that our lives are our own, to not let anyone else take anything away from it and only add to it.

I will be trying to add to this blog at least every week from now on. That way it will be easier to keep track of new advances in my strength and so forth.

I warned you this would be a long one. Thank you for reading until the end. If anyone has any questions, or just wants to chat, I will have all my contact information in my bio of my blog.

As this entry began with a poem, it will also end with one.

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dearestsouleater · 5 years

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Entry #326 January 22, 2019 7:45 pm

Dearest SoulEater,

“Love does not change you, Loneliness does..“

That was my FB post this morning trying to reflect upon everything that transpired since December. Then this afternoon, after I have submitted my BIR Sworn Oath for Tax, I chanced upon Lara’s Coffee shop and decided to take my ultra late lunch there. I was eating this and maybe I might be feeling good now, so maybe it is high time to tell the story that has made me from an 2018 optimist to a 2019 pessimist.Yeah I know, Soul. It has been 6 long months since my last post, with lots and lots of things happened not being said. I have the memories in the form of videos at Youtube. It is there.

It all started December, where I was already forecasting the things I need to do for my transition to the same job but with better benefits. Like it always was, I had to endure the expectations and works of a teamleader, deciding on things and being responsible for them. I know for a fact that Ill be needing a lot of money to secure the new requirements set by the Civil Service for me to be accepted as a Casual Nurse under the Department of Health. I still have money, but the pressure was there, a very big cold and dark pressure. First is that we havent received our salary for November, and that it was December, meaning I had to prepare my gifts to my subordinates and of course, Lianne. With the budgeting I did, I can secure the costly requirements, but it will take toll to my plans with Lianne. I had to think long term and made sure that I secure that requirements for me to be financially secured until 2022. Me and Lianne were having some talks, and while she was planning, I was actually hesitant. Her plans involve expenses that are way beyond my capacity, she may have money for it, but I gotta consider where I stand after spending those. But in the end I agreed with what was initially planned and went on with my “Bahala na”.

Came December 21, it was our Christmas Party for the Department of Health. It was already stressful for me as being a Teamleader, I am responsible to a lot of things. And I am already in turmoil because of our ugly presentation since all municipalities are required to present a dance or whatever. Ours was not a presentation, more like an intermission number. That morning while I was having my preparations for that event, Lianne texted me and that conversation turned sour. She suddenly dropped the “As I thought” bomb on me. At the time I already saw what was coming. She was expecting that I have prepared plans for her on the coming holidays particularly Christmas. At the back of my mind I was thinking, didnt we had this conversation before, she already laid out the plans of what were bound to do, go to this fancy hotel and celebrate, after that go back to her apartment and be with each other, that was it. She was expecting more from me. Of all the times it would happen, why on that moment. We were still talking as I went to the venue of that Christmas Party masked as an Exit Conference. I was there the whole morning trying to juggle managing Lianne’s predicament with the problems I am facing on that event. Until she sent me a message that made me snap.. “Kahit hindi ka na bumalik”. I knew on that moment that that was it. That moment, I knew I cant keep going on. I understood that we cant make it work out anymore. I thought she was my partner for my battles, it turns out she was another battle that I had to win..and I felt so betrayed. I was just sitting there at my table, null and void with nothing but my fake smiles and just saying Im ok while people ask me why I was silent. I had to endure it for hours. And it felt like it was that day all over again, coz she gave back my money too. I dont even know what to feel and act them out. I just went home blank and staring after that successful Exit Conference.. Success for the event, disaster for me. I went home and acted like everything was ok and it was not. My parents even noticing it but I pretended that Im fine. They didnt know we already broke up on that day. I cancelled my reservation for the bus going to manila and had the money shifted to my mom’s reservation. Ate Cely asked me why, and I told them I was recalled for an emergency work on the 27th and 28th which was true. But I lied about the reason why Im not going to Manila anymore, it was because I had no more reason to go there. It was once again a long night..but it was never new to me. I have already faced the same event when she said she did not love me anymore, but only this time I had more resilience.

December 27, my parents had to leave for Manila because my father had to prepare going back to Saudi. I just didnt have the motivation to go anywhere, so I told them that I was recalled for work since it was an urgent matter and that it was a critical time for my appointment as a casual employee. And so they left me.. That time, a typhoon was coming in and that it was automatic for us nurses from DOH to activate Code White meaning we have to respond and report evacuees to central command. December 28 we already lost power supply and access to clean water, water was coming in too fast inside our house because they seep inside the cement, and I had to clean those areas the whole 24 hours. The next day, I stared at how black it was at my home..cold, dark and alone. I only had spare food to eat without the assurance that the faucet water was clean. That moment, I knew loneliness was killing me slowly. I have never been so alone at that point, that it made me think of a lot of things. But an unexpected event happened. My relatives who came from Naga cannot pass thru at the market going to their house as it was already in high flood, so they called me 11 pm that night to ask if they can stay at my house for the meantime. I was thinking that maybe it was You Soul that was giving me some light. So they came and stayed with me until the morning. They made me breakfast and then had to leave immediately to check the status of their own home. Maybe I got saved. Saved from feeling hopeless and alone. I went over to do my work to report any casualties of that calamity in our Municipality and had to live alone again.

December 31, current came back at around the afternoon and the relatives that I took in during the storm gave me Pizza from Shakeys because they knew I would be celebrating the New Year alone. There I was, only with myself and my prepared food before 12 am of January 1st 2019. I only had the pizza my relatives gave me, left over wine at the fridge and pancit canton while watching my friends from Twitch celebrate the New Year. I only had Se7en of HelixxVR with me during that time. I had no fireworks, I had no devices for making loud sounds, only me and my beating heart.

The whole of January was spent with me being all alone, doing everything by myself for myself, trying to survive and live. Our contracts are under abeyance due to some problems with the budget allocated with the Department of Health so what I have been doing in the past 3 weeks is just be at Twitch, stream, watch. It was during that time that I had a record high of 332 viewers, was able to pull off a 24 hr stream and got qualified for Twitch Partner. I slept 5 am almost everyday and woke up around 1 pm, missing my breakfast and lunch. I had nothing to do but stream and play. My November salary came, but it was all for paying the remaining bills and my December Salary is still pending.

Being alone for a long time turned me into something else. Maybe it was karma, or consequences of bad choices, but who is there to blame? Not Lianne, not everyone, not even You, Soul..only me. I decided not to talk to anyone about it. I just felt not doing it. I wanted this darkness for myself so I told no one about what I had gone through. I dont hate Lianne for what happened to us. I just came to realize that we have different end games. She wanted a grandeur life while I wanted a peaceful and simple one. She loved to travel while I only want to travel to just one place and that is Japan. We were different and it only needed sometime for me to accept that we are not compatible and that we are only bound to more stress and fights if we continued. I never talked about what happened to us at Social Media because it wont make me feel any better. I did not block her from my social medias as well because there is no sense doing it. I still see her posts, and maybe it was my way of self punishment.

2018 was a treasure chest of memories for me of her. It just so happened that December of that year became the Pandora’s box. She is currently happy now and I do pray to You Soul that you give her healing, and that she can move on peacefully, find someone that she deserves, not a loser like me who has nothing to offer as of the moment. I still consider her a friend and acquaintance because Im not holding anything against her and I completely understand if she does not feel the same way I do.

I ate the last bits of my juicy saucy burger and finished it with my fries. I left with a face hoping that someday, I may never wish to ask from You that I rest..for good.

Thank You Soul, for everything..the blessings and lessons. You can still try and guide me while I try to live this tiring life. Give me something to motivate me to go on, yeah?

Love lots,

Jim..

P.S.

Funny that Jin didnt come out this time. Maybe he was confident Im getting through with this. I hope his confidence was right.

#love #break up #typhoon #life #loneliness #cold

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maren-as-an-adult · 5 years

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So here’s the thing...

Adulting is hard. No one is disputing that. But sometimes life decides it’s going to be exceptionally hard for a while. And sometimes when that happens, you allow it to happen.

Basically what I’m saying is that my life went into a bit of a downward spiral recently.

It started back at the end of October. I had set plans to move out to New York. I had put in a transfer to a Target out there, I had a shared room situation lined up, and I had a little bit of money in my savings. I bought my plane ticket, said my goodbyes to my coworkers, and told my close friends in the area I was leaving soon.

And then the first panic attack hit.

Now, I cannot speak for everyone who experiences a panic attack, but I know they suck. Mine kind of feel like three foot worms coming out of my stomach as my limbs shake and my face goes simultaneously numb and hypersensitive. I get really cold, and then the demons come out.

Not actual demons, just thoughts really.

But they’re all the thoughts that usually stay locked away during the day and what some people may call “intrusive”. I’d say that’s being too generous a term. These thoughts are the whispers of “You’re a burden,” “You’re going to starve,” “You’re definitely going to die and here’s how,” et cetera.

All this is super fun at two thirty in the morning two days before your flight out.

So after this panic attack and talking with some friends and family, I decided to not move out yet. I emailed the Target in New York telling them I would be delayed coming out, and then proceeded to finish decorating my house for Halloween.

Fast forward to November 1st, and the first round of seasonal affective disorder hits.

Now, as a disclaimer, I’ve never been professionally diagnosed with depression, anxiety, or SAD, but then again I’ve been in denial of my mental state before and let it get to be too much. That wasn’t a fun time either. So I choose to assume I have those three mental disorders in some way so that in case I’m wrong, it’s a pleasant surprise.

So the November SAD hits, and I become nocturnal. Textbook depression signs of days without personal hygiene, loss of interest in activities I like, and absolutely no appetite. I think I had to verbally remind myself to eat something at least once a day. I would notice at night my stomach growling, but I didn’t feel anything. I knew this was a bad sign, so I reached out to my old therapist in the area. I didn’t hear back from her because:

I sent her an e-mail asking for an appointment because I couldn’t bring myself to actually speak to anyone over the phone

My e-mail was out of storage space

which either means her response never came through

or my e-mail never actually sent

So instead of looking for another therapist, I withdrew even further.

To be honest, I can’t remember much of what happened in November. I was constantly asleep during the day and awake at night for no other reason than I had no self-control maintaining any healthy habits and put off trying to fix it every time there was an opportunity for a tomorrow. But I always knew I needed to start fixing myself. Even if it was just in the smallest ways, I’d have to work for it, and work hard.

I started with my sleep schedule. I went to the library one evening and found a book titled The Mindful Way to a Good Night’s Sleep. I started reading it one morning following a completely sleepless night. Armed with two shots of espresso and a knowledge that a cleaning lady was coming to our house that day, I forced myself to stay awake and read up on helpful tips to regulate my circadian cycle.

I slept for fifteen hours that night and was in bed by 9pm the following night.

Unfortunately, it didn’t keep for long, but I knew I could get at least one aspect of my life back on track. That’s all I needed to start getting myself out of this depressive quagmire.

During this time, I did some soul searching. I never reached out to Target, be it the one in New York or the one I worked at, because I couldn’t (and still can’t) bring myself to go back to retail. The thought of it had me facing a particularly dark path that terrified me. Was I just scared of the hectic stress and long hours that would inevitably come with the holiday season? Maybe. But I did not want to risk a particularly destructive mental state at a job I felt that I had failed at. Not failed on a professional level, but a personal level of not following through with one of my goals.

But in the time where I kept myself awake debating whether or not I made the right choice to stay at home despite promising several people I would be in New York by November, I couldn’t justify moving myself to New York City to work at Target. Even though my plan had been to move out and hit the ground running looking for more artistic jobs that would keep me happy while Target kept me in the black, I couldn’t stomach the idea of moving out there to work a part time retail job. And I couldn’t (and still can’t) swallow my pride enough to contact my old Target and ask for my job back even though I’m certain they’d take me back.

I know that sounds shallow. And one of my best friends told me it sounded very “first-world problem-y” when I was still planning on moving out. But I could feel deep in my heart that I would be miserable, paranoid, and isolated if I followed through with this plan.

So to make a long story short (too late) I’m jobless and battling depression. I know I have more to say, but I’ll get to that later. Finally getting the strength to write this and post it is enough for today, I think.

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keywestlou · 3 years

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THE INCREASED COST OF FOOD NOT WHAT YOU THINK

Most people think the incense in eh cost of food is because the supermarkets are ripping off the public. To a degree, yes. Not that much however in comparison to some other businesses/reasons..

Some find a way to benefit from a crisis such as the pandemic.

In this instance, food producers. Those who manufacture the canned goods, meats, and anything else sold in a supermarket.

Notice how certain food stuffs are absent for weeks on the shelves. The items always return. However at an increased price.

The producers have learned to play the gouging game. They intentionally hold on to goods they produce so as to manipulate prices. The game again is to keep a product off the shelve for several weeks and then have it return at a higher price.

Then there is the cost of shipping/delivery of goods.

Shipping prices have gone out of sight! Which of course increases the final cost to the consumer.

Tucking rates have soared despite a demand below prior years.

Diesel #2 prices are up. Twenty percent from November 2020 through February 15, 2021. A big jump in a short period of time.

Crude oil is up 64 percent during the same time period. Wild!

Shippers, such as retailers and manufacturers shipping goods to the customer, have experienced a 20 percent hike from January 2020 through January 2021. The steepest increase since 2011!

Only a few examples contributing to increased transportation costs have been provided. The statistics/data involving the increases in various types of shipping were too much for me to understand. Wow! The only thing clear was that there is an increase in every area. Reasons generally different. My opinion is do not blame everything on the supermarket. They are responsible to some degree. The examples set forth herein are responsible to an even greater degree.

Texas. A disaster!

Hopefully Texas has learned a lesson. The lesson also is a warning to other states not to go the “independent” way Texas did.

There are two national grids. The East and the West. Then there is Texas standing alone. Texas knew how to provide power more efficiently and cheaper.

They bull shitted themselves.

If you are going to run your own business, it must be run properly to avoid something as has occurred in Texas.

Once set up, Texas failed to do the necessary to keep structures up to date and failed to pay attention to anticipated wild weather developments.

“Once in a hundred years” has become common in everything involving weather.

However, if you have a neoliberal austerity State which has spent 40 years deregulating and privatizing public infrastructures, and downsizing public service into incapability, you end up with a gigantic bad situation. A problem where people cannot depend on the State for water, food, and power during emergencies.

There are adverse weather events to prepare for. Texas did not prepare.

Set aside State damages for which Texas is responsible, most of which probably are not insured. Another way to save a buck.

Home owners and businesses normally are insure. I m confident many Texans are insured for the damages wrought by the snow and ice. Note however that insurance companies are a business. They claim they are available to protect their insureds. No! Most are corporations and worried more about their bottom lines.

So insurance policies are written with various exceptions. Happenings where coverage is excluded. Take for example water driven by wind. The insurance companies will play with that one big time. How about an act of God? Can one argue the cause of snow and ice other than an act of God. Insurance companies try and do.

There are numerous other examples. The poor homeowner and businessman is going to have a hard time getting paid actual damages incurred or getting paid at all.

And what of the time factor involved between the time the claim is made and the insurance company pays. Could be a year or two or more.

Billions of dollars are involved.

The news keeps saying Biden definitely is not in favor of an increase in the minimum wage to $15 in this stimulus package. I sense it is something he will consider at another time. Biden cannot be expected to do everything at one time.

Biden is in favor of a $15 minimum wage for federal employees. Evidence he is aware of the problem and is working on it.

Joseph Anthony Pizzo died recently. He was 88.

I first met Joe when I came to Key West some 30 years ago. He and his wife Beth wee already here. We became friends.

Joe was a happy person. Always a big smile when he saw you. Beth likewise very personable.

Joe was into things that grew from the ground. A botanist/horticulturalist. He taught life science classes for 30 years at Chicago City College. In addition, he and Beth opened Floral Consultants, a business they were able to expand to multiple Chicago locations.

Rest in peace, Joe!

Key West has had many citizen who have been responsible for what Key West has become. Good, bad, or indifferent, Key West would not be what it is today without their genius and hard work.

One of those persons is David Wolkowsky. David died a few years ago.

On this day in 1967, David began construction of the Pier House Motel. On that Motel site, today’s Pier House sits. Developer over the years by David.

David was my friend. I unfortunately met him in his later years. I enjoyed his company. He was respectful to all. Everyone loved him.

Enjoy your day!

—

DAY 26…..Greece the First Time

Posted on June 22, 2012 by Key West Lou

Not easy to communicate via internet from the middle of the Aegean Sea. Equipment here all old. Connections not dependable. Things keep getting lost. I spend more time looking for lost material than writing.

None of the above is intended as a complaint. I expect no more nor no less from an island so remote as the one I am presently on. Amorgos. It is almost nowhere. Access is by boat only. The boat comes and goes. The boat arrives two times a week.

I share the preceding with you for a particular reason.

Recent blogs have contained many errors. Paragraphs repeated, misspelled words, capitalizations missing, etc. I cannot help it. I reach a point where I have spent 4 hours doing the blog, 2.5 of which were spent finding the blog when it has disappeared.

I reach a point where I say I must publish before I lose the blog in its entirety for good. So I publish. I must admit when I am at that point, I am also very tired and say screw it.

Forgive me. The substance is good, even though the form may be lacking on occasion.

Which brings me to my present abode. A small white cottage with blue trim. Trim includes windows, shutters and doors. Sitting about 12 feet from the ocean. Yesterday I described the area between me and the water as a road. I was mistaken. It is a stone foot path.

Amorgos is one of the far out of the Greek islands. Off the beaten path. Few visitors. Not on the tourist routes. No big fancy hotels. Nothing but you, a couple of neighbors, and God.

If 2,000 people live on this island, I would be shocked.

My little house sits at the end of the path previously described. After that, nothing but water.

Sunsets terrific. Like Key West. Across the water from me. Over the peak of a mountain. Glorious!

I bought a bottle of Beefeaters yesterday. Enjoyed a couple of drinks from my terrace watching the sunset.

I was shocked I could buy Beefeaters. It has been almost non existent at my previous stops. Not only was it available on Amorgos, it was also cheap. About half the cost compared to the U.S. I suspect it is the taxes. If the Greeks taxed alcohol as much as it is in the U.S., it would dramatically help their financial condition.

Cigarettes. I took 4 packs with me. I have been gone 2 days shy of four weeks. Just finished the fourth pack yesterday. I am not doing bad in smoking little. I know. I should not be at all.

I bought a pack yesterday. $4.10! No way in the U.S.A. Another example of where Greece might help alleviate its financial problem. Increase substantially the cigarette tax.

There is a Chora on Amorgos. You will recall there was one in Mykonos. Chora is also referred to as Hora. It means old place. The old places on most islands are federally protected in Greece. Much like our historical buildings.

The Chora here is a large number of buildings constructed during the middle ages. Most at least 1,000 years old. Typically Grecian. One to 3 stories. Small terraces. White. Blue trimming. Narrow walkway, 3-4 feet wide.

Whereas Mykonos’ Chora was full of people, stores, bars and restaurants, the one on Amorgos appeared deserted. I saw no more than a dozen visitors.

Every 200-300 feet there is a restaurant or coffee house. Few or no customers.

Stairs. To the sky! Just what I love! Steps everywhere. Up, up and more up! Each one a stress test for me.

Chora was six miles away. On the top of a hill. The cab ride was straight up. The return trip straight down. How these cars do it, I will never understand. I consider it physically impossible for a car to keep its wheels on the road under such conditions.

Somewhere along the way yesterday, I found out what the windmills were for. There are many here as on Mykonos.

Olives were and still are big. The windmills were used to crush the olives. Where there were vine yards, the grapes were likewise crushed by the windmills.

Last night the wind returned. Cold. Very cold. I had to wear a sweat shirt.

I had a late dinner. At Demetrius’. After dinner there the night before, I could eat nowhere else. I was not disappointed.

Eggplant is big here. I had a warm appetizer of eggplant, tomatoes and onions. All cut up and cooked together. To die for!

My entre surpassed everything! My friends in Utica will especially enjoy that which I am about to share. I had lamb chops. Thin. The bone intact, not cut from the chop’s body. Fatty and juicy.

Just like Pelletieri Joe’s.

I got up with the sun this morning. Walked down the road a bit to buy coffee, a loaf of hot bread and butter. Then back to the cottage and my terrace. I watched the sun and water move a bit. Nothing else.

A bit later I was playing around with my tablet. A very lovely young lady walked by. Ann. Swiss. 18. Blond hair. Trim body. White blouse. Short jeans.

We talked. She was back packing it. Was looking for a cheap place to stay. Elini’s was too expensive for her. She moved on to continue her quest.

By the way, I think Elini’s is dirt cheap. Everything on this island costs next to nothing. For example, my dinner last night cost 11 euros. About $14 American money. Tip built in. Tip is 16 per cent of a bill.

I had another visitor while sitting outside.

I heard clinging bells. Saw nothing. Got up and looked over the terrace wall. There were three ducks walking along. Each had a bell around its neck. Looked like a family. Two big ones, one little one. Obviously house pets out for a stroll.

I have no idea at this point what today will bring. Maybe a trip to the monastery. Maybe nothing.

Enjoy your day!

THE INCREASED COST OF FOOD NOT WHAT YOU THINK was originally published on Key West Lou

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daveywankenobie · 4 years

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I will get the obvious out of the way.

I’m NOT feeling down.

There’s not a single fibre of my being that’s blue, malcontent, irritable, sad, annoyed, dissatisfied or irascible.

I have my mojo back and I’m workin it baby!

Part of my mood is (as always) attributable to a calming (and creative) nearby presence, who – while I write – is creating her own unique little pieces of art and beavering away with pliers and metal next to me.

It’s not at all unusual to see these little ‘jump rings’ floating around the house (occasionally the hoover finds more than it’s fair share) and in a radical departure from how things used to be I now find that I live in a world where (for the very first time in my life) I’m considering and appreciating the aesthetic merits of all kinds of jewellery.

This used to be something I wasn’t particularly keen on.

I have always viewed people (male or female) that were dripping in jewellery as materialistic. I didn’t understand why they needed such (usually golden) things, and for the longest time (mostly because I wanted simplicity but also because I had fat sweaty wrists) I never even wore a watch.

When I make the first tentative attempts to connect with my other half and we began to learn more about eachother I shared my thoughts on such matters.

She replied outright that she had a weakness for jewellery.

My honest thought at the time was ‘uh-oh… I hope she’s not high maintenance…’ but it turned out that nothing could be further from the truth – unless that is you count the endless cups of tea required to keep her running smoothly.

What I didn’t realise at the time was that she made a large amount of the jewellery that she wore herself – and what she didn’t construct with her numerous tools and materials was usually purchased frugally from very individual and bespoke suppliers.

I realised very quickly when we became closer that the items she owned were pretty much never made of precious metals or set with rare stones (many are constructed with things like Lego!) but each and every item reflected her unique personality and tastes.

Tonight, while I’ve been creating this post she created this chain mail bracelet – and it just blows me away that I have such a quirky and inventive little soul next to me whenever I need cheering up.

I can’t just expect her to deliver my good mood whilst I give nothing in return though.

At times this can be hard and I feel like I’ve struggled a bit in the last few weeks. I’ve had to lean into my partner and other people more than I normally would (which is a natural part of life) but this week I finally feel like I’m making headway again.

As I’ve mentioned in my last few blogs my mindset recently has been a carefully cultivated one that’s taken a lot of effort to turn into something that is once again positive.

After burying my head in the metaphorical sand for a while and packing a good few pounds back on in the process I decided that the only way to tackle the issue I’d created was head on.

I needed to work hard, try at all times to be a ‘can do’ person and follow the Slimming World plan, which for me means no longer giving myself free reign to eat like an idiot.

It also means moving my arse more because not doing so has been a big contributor to my weight gain recently.

So in an effort to change I’ve explored all around Warwickshire this week, and in doing so discovered that despite the cold and grim weather there are still many flashes of colour or interest to be found when you’re out and about.

For a start there are mushroom rings everywhere!

I love that there’s always something new to find when you’re out walking. The natural world changes all the time – and the only thing I never seem to find when I’m outside in it is boredom.

It’s not just the natural world that holds joy and interest mind you.

Getting out and about regardless of where you go is good for the soul because there’s life of many different kinds of life to be found everywhere and lots of people to talk to or just watch as they pass by.

On Friday I walked into Coventry Market with a friend and we spent a while combing through the fruit and veg stalls where the variety and quality of produce puts most supermarkets to shame.

Around one third of these items are completely alien to me. I’ve never cooked with them, and I wouldn’t know where to begin in some cases (particularly with the bitter melon) but I love that we live in such a culturally diverse society that all of the Chinese, Indian and English sellers that were in the market have space for their wares and ALL of them seemed to have a bustling, diverse and above all engaged clientele.

There’s life inside that run down looking building that you can’t find in a supermarket.

Within its walls you can interact with, touch, smell, feel and examine items that aren’t everyday objects – or at least they aren’t to me.

In this environment my childhood returns to me – because a greengrocer was (back then) a daily reality in which potatoes were covered in dirt, cucumbers curled like springs and apples were different shapes colours, tastes and sizes.

Fruits and vegetables had bumps, knobbles and imperfections which I loved and shopping back then didn’t require removal of leaves and mud.

You got to see the way that items looked when they’d been pulled out of the ground – without them being sanitised and shoved in clear plastic to put under 24×7 spotlights.

I absolutely love the naturalness of this scruffy little place – and I can’t believe that until six months ago I’d never ever been there before.

If you haven’t visited yourself then leave your car (or bus) at War Memorial Park and take a walk into town (it’s only a mile away – you can do it!). If you have an Ikea Family card then you can also get a free tea or coffee in their nearby cafe.

If you don’t purchase anything you still get a cheap day out and some exercise – which I’ll admit was the main reason for this discovery in the first place.

This brings me neatly onto my next topic – because If you’re not in calorie deficit and moving about as much as possible then you won’t lose weight.

In my Apple Watch stats I haven’t failed to hit all of my daily exercise goals for over two years – but during the last few months I’ve gradually done a little less every day and eaten either the same amount or more.

My life is a pretty fine balance due to my reliance on rather large portion sizes, and I’ve had to accept recently that I simply cannot get away with eating huge volumes of (very good non processed and natural) free food without then immediately burning it off.

The truth is that although my stats look good they have to be viewed with a bit more of an inquisitive eye.

My walking distance is great – and it’s remained constant throughout the year (now I swim as well) at about eight miles a day.

My average swimming distance shows that I do around 50 continuous lengths of the pool each time I swim, meaning I have great stamina. However what it doesn’t show in this average is that last month I went swimming less times in October than since I started in November 2018.

Bad Davey.

The stats that really can’t lie – and highlight the dip in the number of times I’ve swum are my active energy ones (kcal expended through movement above normal ‘just living and breathing’ levels) and my exercise minutes.

Whilst they’re probably higher than a lot of people’s daily burn they have (by my standards) tailed off lately, and in August (shortly after I handed over to the new MOTY) they pretty much said ‘enough of this sh*t – I’m staying on the sofa.’

As you can see in November I’ve begun to address this – and after a slow start to the month I’m once again cooking on gas. Since weighing in last Saturday I’ve managed to walk 80+ miles and swum 7.5km.

After taking a 12lb gain on the chin last weekend I had two choices – sort it out with activity and a positive mindset or deal with it by burying my face in the fridge.

I’ve therefore been very active and very outdoorsy.

I’ve also cooked every large, hearty meal from scratch and prepared the breakfasts, lunches and dinners for myself and my other half each day (I just love cooking for us both) with feeling satisfied and full in mind.

There have been no complaints from her – and looking back at some of the week’s pictures I think you’ll agree we’ve not gone hungry!

It’s fair to say though that in between these shots an awful lot of plums and carrots also died to service our needs to snack between meals.

There were also some more serious transgressions involved though – and on Thursday I hoovered up 200g of sweet popcorn in one very flexible evening that equalled 44 syns. I refuse to feel guily though. I really enjoyed it – and after some epic exercise genuinely felt I deserved a treat.

I felt absolutely zero guilt.

Neither of us has.

We’ve instead had a pact that’s revolved around promising eacother that we’d focus on our individual sabotaging behaviours and do our level best to support eachothers’ success – which we have.

My partner’s weaknesses and mine are quite different – but we’re the same in that (like most people) we fall down in times of stress or worry. Although it’s been tough for both of us to turn things around it’s also been really empowering to take our bulls by their horns and wrestle them to the floor.

This week – thanks to our individual commitments (and efforts with walking and swimming which have been mutually engaged in as much as possible) this has resulted in huge strides.

We both had big losses on the scales this morning and for the first time in a while since I got my new Slimming World book (which frankly looks like a complete mess to me with its gains and losses) I feel really proud of myself.

This morning I smashed out a 9.5lb loss!

Now – I don’t for a minute think that this is sustainable and I’m sure that at least half of this is fluid rather than fat. I know this because I can feel the bloat and swell when I’m not eating right.

If I change my habits then I pee like a racehorse for a day or two and then I’m magically a few pounds lighter. It’s only after the first couple of days that the real weight loss starts. With this in mind I’ve probably lost about 4-5lbs in real terms.

This is still a fabulous weight loss – but I’m not naive enough to think I’ll get this figure regularly.

I’ve been doing this too long now and I know my body.

When Angie asked my how much I wanted to lose by next week my reply was simply ‘a loss’, because to lose lose two weeks in a row with an initial spurt like that is no easy task and I don’t want to set myself up for a fall.

I don’t want to put anything on or maintain – just a loss is enough for me.

So that’s it.

The result of hard work.

Now to do it over and over again every week until I get back to target!!!!

Davey

Got my mojo back baby! OK I will get the obvious out of the way. I'm NOT feeling down. There's not a single fibre of my being that's blue, malcontent, irritable, sad, annoyed, dissatisfied or irascible.

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regigigina · 5 years

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So I went to an escape room...

Not sure if reliving this traumatic experience through writing is beneficial for my mental and physical health, but hey, I need a topic to write upon.

I have been a patron on an escape room establishment in Singapore some four years earlier and found the experience displeasing if not altogether upsetting. The game was treasure-hunt themed and we were given a full hour to solve puzzles and retrieve keys, with which we discover yet another hidden room and another locked chest.

It was not so much the difficulty that baffled me, but several of these riddles seemed too far fetched that they were incomprehensible without hints rendered through the walkie-talkie. Above all that, since time was of the essence, we had to work on each puzzle separately. The obsessive compulsive in me was displeased with not knowing how the others were solved - not until after the end of the game, at least.

So when I got invited to another escape room game late last November, I knew not to expect control over the situation and just enjoy the game. By now, I had in fact learnt to surrender control over everything which are not my own doing. I was not the least bit compelled to ask about the minutiae of our game and left the entire arrangement to my friends.

We arrived at the premises just in time, promptly made our payment and signed a waiver. I am one who would skim through the small prints in T&Cs, so breezing through this 10pt font waiver was nothing. The content was surprisingly pretty serious, with mentions of holding the business harmless of injuries, heart attack and death incurred during the game. I did not recall the game being that grim, what on earth are we playing anyway?

To my horror, my friends pointed at the far right of the three posters hung on the wall behind the reception desk. The title “SANATORIUM” was written large and blood-red across the top of the poster. In the background was a corner of a room, gray and in industrial style, plain but stained. Right in that very corner was a long-haired female figure with long white dress, crouching on the floor so that the face was hidden from view. A shiver ran through my spine, my stomach tied up in knots, suddenly my steps were heavy.

“...I thought these games were all treasure hunt and detective themed,” I said in defeat.

“That doesn’t sound like much fun! It’s only fun because some of us are scared.” replied a friend who came up with the idea to play this escape game (duh).

Now it appeared impossible to back out of the game having paid my share of it, and to the mental list of pros and cons I added good reasons to go on such as not wanting to be a killjoy, and a wish to be invited the next time they go out. But now it looked as though the waiver terms were tailor made for me, and there was no eradicating the possibility that I would emerge from the room horizontal on a stretcher.

Worse, we had discussed on the way, at some point in the game the five of us would have to split into two groups. In the car I (only half) joked that I was not scared to die so feel free to throw me under the bus, but secretly dreaded not being able to figure out the riddles by myself. Upon the disclosure of our game title, I simply dreaded being on my own.

"It is all in my head,” I repeated to myself as I fought my gut feeling and proceeded toward the locker.

No phones or bags were allowed in the game, instead we were given one walkie-talkie to communicate with a helper stationed outside. We stood in an all-black antechamber next to a metal door bearing our game title. On the opposite wall, sound effects and scream or shouts of other players blared from behind closed doors.

After a brief explanation, the helper bid us good luck and - not open the door to our game, mind you - showed us a ladder leading to the ventilation, through which we crawled our way into the game. Already my imagination ran wild in that corridor, any moment now rats could run squeaking past me, hands reaching my legs, a shiver up my spine again.

Clawing our way through that corridor we emerged into a chilly, virtually pitch black reception room save for one mounted monitor which first gave us the background of the story. The scant lighting from the screen illuminated the four walls around us and, bloody hell, the wall was literally splattered with blood and scrape marks - what the hell am I doing here???

A creepy tune started playing and the video explained that we were actually locked in the hospital reception for our own safety. The doctors and nurses had all abandoned the scene due to ravages by an eerie patient (guess who? that woman in the poster!), so we must find the clues they left behind and get out of there before she finds us. Fuck me. A mild gush of cold air blew and the woman’s shriek blared across the room. Fuck fuck fuckity fuck! I let out an abrupt scream and glued my back to the nearest wall, not that it made me feel less frightened.

The haunting tune lingered throughout the game, interspersed with the woman’s howling, doors’ creaking and something clanking. The atmosphere grew infinitely eerie while I grew infinitely stressed. I cannot tell you enough how much my imagination is my curse. I stopped watching horror movies in eight grade when they started to creep into my dreams. Twelve years later now, I am no less adept at picturing my own reflection smiling back at me, or a hand jolting from behind a glass or mirror.

The guys were having fun and actually working on the puzzles, but I was too petrified to function from the start. Imagine my terror when they finally managed to unlock the exit door, opening up a hallway leading to - yet - a number of other doors (we were probably only 20 minutes into the game by then). I plunged into anxiety and apprehension. I felt my heart raced uncontrollably, lightheaded and sick in the stomach. I begged to give up the game early but my friends gave me that we-don’t-want-to-be-the-bad-guy-but-that’s-a-no look.

When the time came to split into two groups, things went horribly wrong and we ended up with groups of three guys and two girls. We, two girls, huddled up and crouched under a computer desk, terrified. I was near crying and fainting - and by crying I mean wailing, because tears had been discreetly shedding since long before. Tortured, I dared not look but to my feet.

It was horrifying when there were five of us; now that there were only two of us I thought a heart attack was imminent. I had been clutching hard to my friend’s arm and she, in turn, was clutching hard to the walkie-talkie.

“Ugh.. We give up, please get us out of here, please... We’re too scared to continue. I think I might need the toilet too,” my friend radioed the helper outside.

“....so you guys need the toilet?” he answered.

“We can’t walk out of here... We can’t go on anymore, we give up, please send someone to pick us up,” we begged.

“...you can’t.”

A short silence.

“Your friends need you.” he continued.

At once we both gave a loud, despaired, helpless sigh and let our heads fall back to the wall. In retrospect, this was perhaps the most hilarious moment - here we were two girls waiting to be saved, but had no choice other than to be the knights lest our friends would be forever stuck in the escape room. Kudos to my friend for saving the guys all by herself, while I desperately clung to her and painstakingly covered my view from everything but the floor I walk on.

There were a handful other funny moments throughout, but elaborating on them would be spoiling the best bits of the ingenious plot. Safe to say there were enough jump scares to leave me with a fresh phobia of doors for a couple of days. Just writing down some of the details here gave me the chills... Needless to say I took precaution not to work on this article after dark.

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mischiefandmagic6 · 7 years

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So I went through letters to and from John Laurens to and from Alexander Hamilton and write to romantic sounding parts in my eyes

Letters From AH

Poor Laurens; he has fallen a sacrifice to his ardor in a trifling skirmish in South Carolina. You know how truly I loved him and will judge how much I regret him. ~Letter to Lafayette (Albany, November 3, 1782)

Cold in my professions, warm in ⟨my⟩3 friendships, I wish, my Dear Laurens, it m⟨ight⟩4 be in my power, by action rather than words, ⟨to⟩ convince you that I love you. I shall only tell you that ’till you bade us Adieu, I hardly knew the value you had taught my heart to set upon you. Indeed, my friend, it was not well done. You know the opinion I entertain of mankind, and how much it is my desire to preserve myself free from particular attachments, and to keep my happiness independent on the caprice of others. You sh⟨ould⟩ not have taken advantage of my sensibility to ste⟨al⟩ into my affections without my consent. But as you have done it and as we are generally indulgent to those we love, I shall not scruple to pardon the fraud you have committed, on condition that for my sake, if not for your own, you will always continue to merit the partiality, which you have so artfully instilled into ⟨me⟩. I have received your two letters one from Philadelphia the other from Chester.5 I am pleased with your success, so far, and I hope the favourable omens, that precede your application to the Assembly6 may have as favourable an issue, provided the situation of affairs sh⟨ould⟩ require it which I fear will be the case. But both for your country’s sake and for my own I wish the enemy may be gone from Georgia before you arrive and that you may be obliged to return and share the fortunes of your old friends. ⟨In respect⟩ to the Commission, which you ⟨received from⟩ Congress, all the world must think your conduct perfectly right.7 Indeed your ideas upon this occasion seem not to have their wonted accuracy; and you have had scruples, in a great measure, without foundation. By your appointment as Aide De Camp to the Commander in Chief, you had as much the rank of Lieutenant Colonel, as any officer in the line—your receiving a commission as Lieutenant Colonel from the date of that appointment, does not in the least injure or interfere with one of them; unless by virtue of it you are introduced into a particular regiment in violation of the right of succession; which is not the case at present neither is it a necessary consequence. As you were going to command a batalion, it was proper you should have a commission; and if this commission had been dated posterior to your appointment as Aide De Camp, I should have considered it as derogatory to your former rank, to mine, and to that of the whole corps. The only thing I see wrong in the affair is this—Congress by their conduct, both on the former and present occasion, appear to have intended to confer a privilege, an honor, a mark of distinction, a something upon you; which they withold from other Gentlemen in the family. This carries with it an air of preference, which, though we can all truly say, we love your character, and admire your military merit, cannot fail to give some of us uneasy sensations. But in this, my Dear J I wish you to understand me well. The blame, if there is any, falls wholly upon Congress. I repeat it, your conduct has been perfectly right and even laudable; you rejected the offer when you ought to have rejected it; and you accepted ⟨it⟩ when you ought to have accepted it; and let me ⟨add⟩ with a degree of overscrupulous delicacy. It ⟨was necessary⟩ to your project; your ⟨project⟩ was the public good; and I should have done the same. In hesitating, you have refined upon the refinements of generosity. There is a total stagnation of news here, political and military. Gates has refused the Indian command.8 Sullivan is come to take it. The former has lately given a fresh proof of his impudence, his folly and his rascality.9 ’Tis no great matter; but a peculiarity in the case prevents my saying what.10 I anticipate by sympathy the pleasure you must feel from the sweet converse of your dearer self in the inclosed letters. I hope they may be recent. They were brought out of New York by General Thompson11 delivered to him there by a Mrs. Moore not long from England, soi-disante parente de Madame votre épouse. She speaks of a daughter of yours, well when she left England,12 perhaps ⟨– – –⟩. And Now my Dear as we are upon the subject of wife, I empower and command you to get me one in Carolina. Such a wife as I want will, I know, be difficult to be found, but if you succeed, it will be the stronger proof of your zeal and dexterity. Take her description—She must be young, handsome (I lay most stress upon a good shape) sensible (a little learning will do), well bred (but she must have an aversion to the word ton) chaste and tender (I am an enthusiast in my notions of fidelity and fondness) of some good nature, a great deal of generosity (she must neither love money nor scolding, for I dislike equally a termagent and an œconomist). In politics, I am indifferent what side she may be of; I think I have arguments that will easily convert her to mine. As to religion a moderate stock will satisfy me. She must believe in god and hate a saint. But as to fortune, the larger stock of that the better. You know my temper and circumstances and will therefore pay special attention to this article in the treaty. Though I run no risk of going to Purgatory for my avarice; yet as money is an essential ingredient to happiness in this world—as I have not much of my own and as I am very little calculated to get more either by my address or industry; it must needs be, that my wife, if I get one, bring at least a sufficiency to administer to her own extravagancies. NB You will be pleased to recollect in your negotiations that I have no invincible antipathy to the maidenly beauties & that I am willing to take the trouble of them upon myself. If you should not readily meet with a lady that you think answers my description you can only advertise in the public papers and doub[t]less you will hear of many competitors for most of the qualifications required, who will be glad to become candidates for such a prize as I am. To excite their emulation, it will be necessary for you to give an account of the lover—his size, make, quality of mind and body, achievements, expectations, fortune, &c. In drawing my picture, you will no doubt be civil to your friend; mind you do justice to the length of my nose and don’t forget, that I ⟨– – – – –⟩. After reviewing what I have written, I am ready to ask myself what could have put it into my head to hazard this Jeu de follie. Do I want a wife? No—I have plagues enough without desiring to add to the number that greatest of all; and if I were silly enough to do it, I should take care how I employ a proxy. Did I mean to show my wit? If I did, I am sure I have missed my aim. Did I only intend to ⟨frisk⟩?13 In this I have succeeded, but I have done more. I have gratified my feelings, by lengthening out the only kind of intercourse now in my power with my friend. Adieu Yours. A Hamilton P.S—Fleury shall be taken care of.14 All the family send their love. In this join the General & Mrs. Washington & what is best, tis not in the stile of ceremony but sincerity. ~Letter to Lieutenant Colonel John Laurens (Middlebrook, New Jersey, April, 1779)

n spite of Schuylers black eyes, I have still a part for the public and another for you; so your impatience to have me married is misplaced; a strange cure by the way, as if after matrimony I was to be less devoted than I am now. Let me tell you, that I intend to restore the empire of Hymen and that Cupid is to be his prime Minister. I wish you were at liberty to transgress the bounds of Pensylvania.5 I would invite you after the fall to Albany to be witness to the final consummation. My Mistress is a good girl, and already loves you because I have told her you are a clever fellow and my friend; but mind, she loves you a l’americaine not a la françoise. Adieu, be happy, and let friendship between us be more than a name ~Letter to Lieutenant Colonel James Laurens (Bergen County, New Jersey, September 16, 1780)

But like a jealous lover, when I thought you slighted my caresses, my affection was alarmed and my vanity piqued. I had almost resolved to lavish no more of them upon you and to reject you as an inconstant and an ungrateful ——. ~Letter to LT. Colonel JL (West Point, September 11, 1779)

My ravings are for your own bosom. ~Letter to LT. Colonel JL (New Bridge, New Jersey, September 12, 1780)

In short Laurens I am disgusted with every thing in this world but yourself and very few more honest fellows and I have no other wish than as soon as possible to make a brilliant exit. ’Tis a weakness; but I feel I am not fit for this terrestreal Country. ~Letter to LT. Colonel JL (Morristown, New Jersey, January 8, 1780)

Letters From John Laurens

Adieu, my dear boy. ~Letter to Alexander Hamilton (Philadelphia, December 5, 1778)

I have had between duty and inclination—how much my heart was with you, ~Letter to AH (Charles Town, South Carolina,14th July 79.

The source of the content came from here and here

#lams #letters #gay #john laurens #alexander hamilton #my gaybies #and they say that they aren't hella gay #John doesnt write that many letters #He wrote nine to hammie #Hammie wrote fifteen to John #what a ham #hamilton #hamiltrash #i was bored

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