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iamlittlelostsoul · 2 years

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Are asks open? If so, can you write a fluffy epilogue of twst boys x reader x yan ver of them set in 6 months from now to give the reader some time to adjust

OMG HELLOO!!

THANK YOUU this is my first time getting requests and I really appreciate it!!

I hope this reaches your expectations although I don't think that I've made it that fluffy but I hope all is good!:D

Just so everyone knows my asks are always open and I'll do my best in answering it all!☺

oh and if you wanna check it out here's my masterlist! ><

Enjoy!

Mending Hearts

Part 1 Part 2

Part 3 of which is which...

Twst boys x reader x yan!twst boys

It's been 6 months...6 months since the incident. And they barely made much progress...

6 months since the love of their life came back but is in a terrible state and despised and feared them so so much.

3 months since they found a spell to see Mc's memories to find the truth and is horribly haunted by it.

They were so lost...

They wanted to help...but how?

How can they help someone that used to love them so much but now despised them so much that they would rather drop dead than have them close...

If only they could find a way to turn back time to avoid such things happening maybe their life would remain as it was? or become official lovers and all...?

...

But this won't stop them from trying...

It is a challenge but if it is to get them to trust and befriend them once again or at least...have them not look at them with eyes filled with fear, uncertainty, and so much hate.

it has only been 6 months so it's ok! Even if it would take them years and so to help them. It's ok even if...it means having to return them back to their own world...

So it is not the time for them to dilly dally and lose hope. It's time to pay them back for everything they've given to every single one of them.

In those 6 months, they started with itty-bitty steps...by allowing them to adjust at their own pace and also 'finally' getting a therapist and a counselor for the school.

They've also sought advices and to do's and not to do from people with a wide knowledge of such cases.

They did their best to not to trigger traumatic flashbacks by avoiding sending too many presents, less contact, and trying to be as calm and patient as they could whenever they are nearby to not overwhelm and pressure them.

Instead of forcefully conversing with them in person instead they try by giving encouraging notes/messages or simply encouraging them to let out everything they feel and etc. Or sending them flowers and little trinkets.

"Hello Mc! This is Riddle...I can't really say to you to stop worrying or everything is alright so...instead, I wish you to get better soon! If you are still not comfortable with our presence it's ok take your time! I know you might be thinking I'm doing this to control you and all but all of us are being sincere in proving we are better than our alters.

you should open the little box by your bed. It's ok the queen of hearts never really gave a rule about doing such things...so I hope it could comfort you in some way. P.s it's a hedgehog btw...just so you know." -Riddle Roseheart

" Ace and Deuce hereee. Get better soon!! We don't really know what to tell you but we hope you start healing well. We really missed you...we made you something...it's the same tart we made on our first birthday party...so we would be really happy if you eat but it's fine if not just...just try to not throw it out the window or... just get well soon." -ADeuce

"Hiii! This is Cheka uncle Leona's nepew!! Remeber me? I heard from uncle Leona that you wernt feeling good :( I'm sorwy jus t so u know uncle and I relly like you mama papa tool! Get well sooon! Uncle tld me I canot relly sea yu know witch made me sad but its okay! I maid you this drawing of you and me plus uncle and mama and papa eating cake in the guarden! I hope this comes tru! Get well soon big sister/brother!!!" -Love Cheka!💗

"Human it is I Sebek! Eat your meals, get some rest, stop hurting yourself and love yourself...You deserve to do so, I'm not asking on behalf of my young master, everyone and for myself but for you. I will not force you to do anything you dislike but at least take great care of one's self. Hate us if you wish just care for you so take this Tamagotchi the diasomania dorm bought for you ." -Sebek

They couldn't blame them to start crying and panicking when they were nearby or when receiving their gifts and letters...so it's ok. But of course, they also seek professional help to also avoid another overblot.

Because of it all slowly they start having improvements like them not having panic attacks when passing by and on some occasions, they would even text back.

It was very little but for them it is everything.

It motivates them to do more but notes not to overdo it, to go forward because little by little they are slowly but surely putting down their walls.

They even had the chance to sometimes be able to chat with them in person but behind doors/walls.

Grim could even visit them occasionally in person!

And some of the trinkets and presents they gave them weren't always thrown or burnt.

it was a great improvement which made them so so glad!

although they still try to commit suicide and inflicts self harm it was less worst than before.

So they continue to do as they did and would only do things when they feel comfortable in doing so.

It has already been 2 years already and...

"Hey Mc, Let's sit here!" Ace shouted as he sat at an empty table.

"Mmh...kay" they answered.

"Myehehehe! Look Mc! I passed the test!" Grim proudly said.

"That's nice!" They said with a soft smile as they petted the cat monster's head.

Although their reply tends to be rather dry and empty at times it is fine. They are happy to study, hangout, and spend time alongside them.

The graduates would also often visit them when they have time they too notices the differences but are satisfied to how it is now.

"Ace! Deuce!"

"Shit...heyya Riddle-senpai! Long time no see!" Ace said as he nervously rubs the back of his head.

"Oh you to are wanna be the end of me!!! Just because I'm not always in school means the two of you could just go and break the queen's rules!!!! Hah I shouldn't have entrusted the dorm to the both of you..." Riddle said as he massages the bridge of his nose.

"Ahahhaah....sorry dorm leader." Deuce said sincerely apologetic for the trouble he's been causing.

"JNJAKWJDJDJJDJDJSJDNJDDHSJS-"

"Hello-I Riddle calm down...I've brought some newly baked tarts everyone." Trey said upon arrival.

"Epel Flemier!"

"Oh no....Good afternoon Vil-senpai!" Epel said with a 'sweet' smile. "why is he here. He already graduated! JAJSJSJDJ I thought I finally escaped him." He whispered.

"I've heard that! Have you been doing your skin care? Why is your skin so dry and your hair! AJJDDJJDDJC"

"hello Mc and everyone! Seems like everyone's having fun lemme join too!!"

"Kalim-hah there's no stopping him."

"Good day all."

"WAKA-SAMA! THANK YOUAND IT'S AN HONOR FOR SUCH AS YOU TO VISITING US."

Soon all of them are finally present in the cafeteria causing a lot of the 2nd to 1st year's to admire them although with such childish displays from each and everyone of them Mc can't help but chuckle and feel more at ease.

Hearing Mc laugh at their antics made their hearts swell with pride and joy. They've did well. Although they wouldn't be like the person they were before it makes them so happy to see them feel more comfortable than before since the incident.

Although it was quite a shame they couldn't take their friendship to another level yet...it was still fine. They can't really put all their efforts to waste when they've already reached this far! They just need to be more patient and understanding.

Besides if it weren't for their new found 2nd and 1st year's friends they couldn't have done better.

"Heyya Mc, Acey, and Juice-senpai's!” Kroner a nice and goofy 1st year although he is quite dumb but he makes great food and and...talks to squirrels...

"It's Deuce not Juice, Kroner!!!"

"Oh, Sorry Bruce-senpai"

"DEUCE! DE U C E"

"Doesn't he remind me so much of you deuce" ace said teasingly.

"Shut it Ace!"

"Ohhh~! There you are Kroner! Hello senpai's" Yza a very power hungry 2nd year (just like Azul lol) that stick to them like an annoying leech! He has the face of a dinosaur and totally shameless!

"Hey there Yza!” Kroner cheerfully said after all he is his henchman.

"Hey there Kroner!" Yza said with the most fakes and plastic smile.

'Plastic annoying dino' is what most of them thought.

'Today isn't so bad. Everyone is having tons of fun and the air felt light and comfy.' Mc thought as they watched them with a very fond smile.

It has been really hard for them to trust, love, and smile once again. Without their friends, they would have long been 6 feet under. It was a really traumatic experience and they truly wish these kinds of moments stays forever and that they would NEVER meet their alters once again.

Their heart may have shattered and was beyond repair, but their friends still gave their all in sharing theirs slowly while slowly but surely building up their broken heart, although the cracks remain they built a foundation to make be like how it used to be yet warmer and filled.

'I really am lucky to have such people by my side. Soon I will be finally spending these moments with less worry and pain.' They thought as they join in the fun.

Fin<3

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accidentalshifter · 2 months

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[March 23-24, 2024: Oops, 404! Shifting not Found, Caroline and Elena show up.]

⚜️ TW: My Mikaelsons are a ✨️ problem ✨️ and don't play nice at all. Death, sex, blood, violence, manipulation, and dark themes will probably be present. I don't condone any of the actions taken by these vampires, I'm just recording them. For science.

Shifting Notes:

Ugh, not gonna lie, this trip in wasn't very productive but it DID provide me another clue (about my DR-self) and set up events for later. Not every shift can be a winner, I guess?

Astrological Timing: Sun in Aries, Moon in Virgo. Notable aspect is Venus in Pisces... Creativity, romance, dreams, & devotional acts are enhanced. Mars is at 0 degrees of Pisces, encouraging spiritual action. Moon in Virgo isn't ideal for dream activities, but I wanted to experiment with shifting under an earth moon to see the difference. It did not go well.

⚜️ Throughout this ordeal, my therapist has been really supportive of me and my shifting experiences. She says that documenting my trips & using them as (free therapy) a coping skill for stress is a good tool to have. When I described this particular DR to her, she said that a lot of the elements (a town with many issues, dramatic relationships, and violence) seem to coincide with situations I've already been in, & have yet to heal. This could be the common root that ties my CR-self to my DR. And to the Mikaelsons. Or, you know, I'm my DR/CR-self because it's all literally me. 😅

⚜️ I entered my DR in ghost-mode. Zoey is still deciding on her choice of outfit for the evening, tapping her chin, and staring down at the selection that I had spread out on the couches (the last time I was here).

Available Outfits:

▪︎ White hoodie with angelic wing patterns on the back. White T-shirt with sword and angel wings printed on it. Acid wash jeans that have a few rips in it.

▪︎ Green hoodie with gold oak leaf patterns on it. Green T-shirt with red, sacred heart printed on it. Normal denim jeans. No rips.

▪︎ Blue hoodie with black lacy pattern and big, golden Fleur De Lis on the back. Blue and gold T-shirt with dragon scale pattern on it. Black jeans.

▪︎ Black hoodie with red bat wing pattern & spider web design. Black, skin-tight, long sleeved shirt with keyhole and mock turtle neck. Black ripped jeans.

⚜️ I glance at the time displayed on a glass and gold-plated clock that's placed on the mantle of the fireplace in this room. It's 6:05 pm. I do a doubletake. I notice that this is the same clock my grandparents had sitting on their mantle when I was a kid. Which is weird but also kinda figures... If my DR-self is just another me in a different universe than there has to be some commonalities between us.

⚜️ I pop out of DR and take some time in my CR to listen to: "Hometown" by 21 Pilots. My DR mimics the elements of a TVD episode in that each significant event/s is preluded by a song. Also, it helps me synch with Z and get into 1st person perspective. As soon as I feel synched, I enter my DR again as Z. I decided upon the blue outfit because (my friend said I should) it started with The Originals, so... I gotta rep that Fleur De Lis! Checked myself for wallet, keys, and cellphone. Then, I chose to dig out a purse from the canvas bag just so I had something (better than pockets) to carry my stuff in.

Observation: Out of curiosity, I checked the information on my I.D. Idk, I figured the info might come in handy during conversations in the future. Apparently, I'm from Oregon and a Virgo because it says my birthday is 9-12-1992. Which is weird because in my CR, I'm a Pisces; the opposite of Virgo within the zodiac. Also, I've lived in Oregon! But Oregon is the home of Kai as per TVD canon. Does that mean my DR-self have something to do with the Gemini Coven? God, I fucking hope not.

⚜️ All ready to go, I take my purse, head out the door, and lock up the house behind me. I notice that it's golden hour outside. The sun is sinking into the horizon, shadows growing long, and darker. I see a lot of car traffic as I step out onto the sidewalk of Washington St and peer down it to gaze at the square that's three blocks away from me. There's a ton of people walking down the street and I'm sort of confused about that until I see a sign. It's announcing an "Anual Hops Festival" in lime green on white & emerald hops surrounding it. An errant wind brings the tempting aroma of fried foods and meats to me. It makes the sign tied to the street lamps flutter like they were all waving their hands at me. Extending an invitation to me to join the festival.

⚜️ I followed the crowds towards the square and came to stand at the crosswalk because the green lights were on at the intersection. It blessed me with a brief moment to assess my surroundings. I see food, beer, and gift stalls selling homemade products & trinkets. Like a farmer's market but aided by alcohol. Families with children sit on picnic blankets in the lawn areas of the square. People walk all around with giant pretzels and cold drinks in their hands. There's a huge stall that has these fancy barbecue pits. They're roasting huge chickens and pork ribs slathered with sticky, red sauce. The sounds of delight fill the air. How did they set this up so fast? The square was normal this afternoon. Eh...

⚜️ The intersection flashes red. The crowd I'm in crosses the street towards the park in the square. Suddenly, a voice rises above the ambient noise of the crowd. It's cheerful and bright. Infused with optimism. It's Caroline's voice. "Raffle tickets!!! Come purchase raffle tickets to help fundraise for the Mystic Falls cheerleading squad!" and "Come help raise our team up!". My eyes land on the blonde. I see that she's sitting at a fold-out table with a large donation bucket placed on it. Next to her is a brunette with ramrod straight hair & a silver locket around her neck. Elena. I feel my pulse instantly race. I wasn't prepared to have any (main) character encounters! I was planning to scope things out beforehand. It looks like my DR has other plans...

⚜️ I try to avoid the encounter by continuing to walk with the crowd, ignoring the two, but as soon as I do...Caroline points her finger at me. "YOU!!" she exclaims, "Would you like to purchase tickets? It's for a GOOD CAUSE!". I feel my feet stop. Involuntarily, I turn to look at Caroline and then move towards the table. My CR-self's anxiety is getting worse while Z is like: 'That's weird, my heart is racing'. Care tells me that tickets are 5 $ for 1 ticket, 10$ for 2 tickets, and 20$ for a whole line. Raffle prizes are picked at 10 pm. I catch Caroline's face register that she's never seen me before and asks if I know about Mystic Falls cheer squad. And that they're the best in the state & won competitions.

⚜️ Elena is staring at me. She has the same kind of puzzled/who is this person? look on her face. There's a hint of suspicion mixed in. When I go to answer Caroline's question, I suddenly de-synch with Zoey and wake back up in my CR. UGH. My social anxiety. I know you're supposed to be able to script it out. I can't seem to do that currently. I'll have to go in and try again later. There's a lunar eclipse tomorrow anyways...

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kabillieu · 5 months

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Content warning for death.

We just were told that my big kid's therapist has died. He's been seeing this man for about six months now, and he's been truly very helpful, much more helpful than my kid's previous therapist of several years. I just feel so sorry. For my kid, who I'm going to have to explain this to (we don't have details, and I assume we won't get any.) For the fact that this therapist was a great fit for a sad and struggling little boy. For the fact that this man, who was Dominic's age, is now suddenly gone. He had a family with children. He had shared a few things about himself with my kid: that he'd been an angry and troubled child and that he didn't have a father growing up. And now his kids have lost him. I don't know how he died, but I feel, sometimes, that we can never outrun the past, and it makes me fear so much for my child's safety and wellbeing and future.

Literally 30 minutes after I got this news, my kid's school called me because he was refusing to come inside from recess (a classic move that he's employed since basically he could walk.) When I got to the school he was inside and calm and eating lunch outside his classroom. It's his birthday today and he has a cold, and he explained that he's sad that he doesn't feel well on his birthday and he just wants to stay home and open his presents and play with them. He'd been triggered by a water bottle that didn't work as it should. His water bottles are old, so I ordered him some new ones when I got home. I don't know how we're going to break the news about his therapist to him. He's 12 today.

I have never been able to keep him safe, but I keep trying. And I keep thinking that if I'm loving enough and just there that will count for something. I hope it will.

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levmada · 2 years

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ᴀɴɢsᴛ

→ My Breath, My Light, My Hope

Levi and your little girl go to visit you.

→ Thicker Than Thieves

Levi is horrified to lose you, which is precisely why he hastens the process. Little does he know, you don’t have much time left.

→ Untouchable [not ship content]

A picture of Levi's childhood, and how Kenny taught him to be strong—as well as how he'd never be strong enough.

→ Snap (comforting)

You’re not good at talking about your feelings, especially when you’re stressed out. Levi tries to help, but it doesn’t go the way it should.

ʜᴜʀᴛ/ᴄᴏᴍғᴏʀᴛ

→ Locked Out of Heaven (angsty)

Four years after you sacrificed yourself for Levi in battle, he sees your ghost dressed as a Warrior, living in Marley. You’re alive, but you’re no longer yourself. In order to rectify his past mistakes, he chooses to stop at nothing to bring you back.

→ Lament, Abject (angsty)

Not even Levi is invulnerable, both after the war and back then, so it's stupid to be scared when he gets sick. Until it isn't.

→ To Have and to Hold (+smut)

After you help him through a moment of weakness, Levi is afraid of the rammifications.

→ Catching Cold, Catching Dreams (angsty)

If there is one constant, despite the living hell that was the mission to retake Wall Maria, it’s Levi—or it used to be. Lately, it’s impossible to be sure, but at least you have the Scouts’ unofficial, residential therapist: a cat named Pia.

→ Dumbstruck (angsty)

You're keeping bad news from Levi. He doesn't know what yet, but he braces himself for the worst.

→ Cracked Crown

Levi finally returns to you after months away, and you both have some deep revelations about each other. Where do people go when they need some deliverance?

→ Attack Dog

Upon visiting Marley for the first time, Levi does more than defend you when some men try to bother you.

→ Things That Eat

You help Levi through a dissociative episode.

→ Iron Sights

After you have a brush with death on an expedition, Levi is unusually protective. Or perhaps it was most expected.

sᴍᴜᴛ

→ Rubies (cumfort)

Levi has a nightmare; that’s nothing new, except maybe you can help comfort him using more than just words of reassurance or an embrace this time around.

→ Toy

You have an interesting gift in mind for Levi’s birthday—a game of sorts. And that gift? You.

→ No Wonder, No Contest

Kitty!Levi falls in love with you, in a way.

→ I'll Have No Regrets (fluffy)

The most important battle in the history of humanity is rapidly approaching. In order to go on without regrets, Levi makes a proposal. The ensuing night is one of love and worship.

ᴘᴡᴘ

→ Now, Speak!

Levi has been neglected recently. As his owner, you teach him to tell you what he needs—and to tell you how good it feels when you give it to him.

→ Hot Transistor

A new effect from his gender transition finds Levi. You both enjoy it.

→ Found You

After a long, hard week, Levi needs to relax… in an unconventional way.

ғʟᴜғғ

→ Thundershower (angsty+smutty) (ao3)

Four years after Levi was felled to the Beast Titan (or so says the official story) you see his ghost dressed as a Warrior, living in Marley. He is alive, but he’s no longer himself. In order to get him back, you choose to stop at nothing to bring him back.

→ Picture Perfect (angsty)

Levi wishes he was man enough to be good enough. More selfishly, he wishes he was the only man you ever wanted.

→ Poor Baby (angsty)

Levi is sick. It's all fun and games until he drops a bombshell on you.

→ Just for the Time You’re Away (angsty)

Despite the safety that comes with your brief reassignment behind Wall Sina, Levi can’t help but feel devastated in your absence, especially in wake of the 57th Expedition. As it turns out, he was right to worry.

→ Raven (angsty)

Three looks into Levi’s search for self-love—one who was born a woman and forced to present as a man.

→ Eyes Off! (+smut)

Miche is somewhat jealous of Levi’s strength, and the girl he’s sweet on—you. How else to resolve this but with a jealousy-fueled drinking contest?

→ “Scouting”

For the second time since finding the basement, (what’s left of) the Scouts spend a day at the beach; for the first time since ever, it’s a day to have fun and relax.

| main levi masterlist | main masterlist |

updated 05/03/24

#nav #levi x reader #aot oneshots

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butts-bouncing-on-the-beltway · 2 years

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Okay. I'm going to talk a little bit about what my experience of psychosis is like for a bit. Because I opened that can of worms in another post already, and it really DOESN'T get discussed because realistically (and reasonably) most of us who experience psychosis are too afraid to speak openly about it lest people decide we're the wrong type of crazy.

But when I first started working in mental health I had a boss who sat down with us in our inaugural staff meeting and introduced himself by talking about his experience of being committed for psychosis, and that was.....life changing? For me because I had never met anyone else like me in my career path. Maybe I can be that for someone else. Maybe I can just be a comfort. Maybe I just start a conversation. Whatever happens, I'm ready.

When I was little, I called them the whispers. The sounds that spilled under doorways and creeped along the hallways of my family home like fog, low to the ground, surface tension vibrating with the sound of a million voices trapped and muffled inside like a bubble waiting for me to burst it and free them. They were easy to ignore as long as I wasn't alone in stillness. I compressed them in my mind, shoving them farther and farther into the back nooks and crannies like a hated birthday present from an aunt you loved and didn't want to offend. Sometimes I pushed too hard and they all came pouring out like the rush of a white water rapid. But when I was alone, the rapids caught an eddy, spiraling around and around in a vortex that drowned out thoughts, feelings, hopes, and fears like so many twigs or leaves floating downriver.

I learned quickly not to tell people about the whispers. People did not like hearing about the whispers. It made them.....uncomfortable. but they had been there my whole life. As far as I knew, I came into this world crying in the hospital, was gently placed into a cradle with the first of the pinchie pillows I would have for life, and there were the whispers right along with it. I had never been afraid of them because there had never been a reason to be. Others clearly disagreed. The whispers became my secret.

What was easier to get away with was being "daydreamy". As a child, no one was surprised that I spent most of my time lost in my own little world. No one thought it odd (well, odd perhaps, but not the kind of odd you worry about) that my presence in their world seemed loose, tenuous at best. I wrote poetry about my senses and they called it deep and meaningful and encouraged me to read it at contests and performances. It didn't occur to me that describing the world through the lens of my own perception was artistic. To me, it was descriptive. Laughter sounds like the tinkling of broken glass and hangs in the air like a cloud of mineral dust. Winter in my hometown smelled like fog and decay and felt like the weightless apex of the jump off the balance beam. Thoughts came, not in language that could be spoken, or pictures to be described, but in the twist and dance of colored smoke as it curls and blooms around the tip of a stick of incense. Sometimes, if I focus, I can taste the scent of the stick's perfume on my tongue when I try to speak it into a reality I share with others.

Once I admitted to a therapist that I "didn't feel real" which was the closest I could come to describing the experience of being able to feel a body that didn't exist, and unable to feel a body that did, while the threads that connected MeAsIAm to MeAsIAppearAndExist floated in the breeze of unreality, barely tethering the two together. I was told this is depersonalization and dissociation, and that I needed to learn how to ground myself in my present body and time. I was not told that grounding was supposed to batten down the hatches of my body-mind and lock the two together again "as they should be". Which is probably why it never bothered me that it didn't. That it couldn't. That my body-mind was never connected in that way to begin with. The grounding tools did make it much easier to function in a world designed for a unified front, however, and I appreciated that. When I needed to be present, I could Turn On The Gravity and when I no longer needed it, off went the switch, and off I drifted into the orbit of my physicality again. Content and at peace. I did learn that the more "reality" rejected the shape of me, the harder the Gravity needed to work. The more room was left for my Strangeness, the less energy grounding strategies required. This is, I suspect, in part because I was allowed to be disjointed or scattered, at least a little, and so the extent to which I needed to be "grounded" in order to interact with others varied from context to context.

I don't think my perceptions are "real" in the sense that others could sense them too if they were a little more open minded. But I do think that they're "real" in that they are mine. My reality includes them. And I know that many others....simply don't. I think that's probably fine. It might be nice not to have to concentrate so hard on Being A Person In A Society. But I found treatment and support protocols that helped me. I moved out of my parents' home, got a couple of degrees, and I work in mental health now where I have often spoken to others who have similarly varied realities. I can sometimes see, when lucidity allows a more tightly tethered connection for them, clients realize I have asked a question that they've never been asked before. One that seems. Perhaps a little too specific and accurate to be coming from a textbook. But mostly I think they don't realize. This is also probably fine. I don't think I would have felt differently about my providers growing up had I known they shared my experiences of psychosis. I have had providers who were terrible at supporting me through it, and others who were very helpful. For me what mattered was knowing I could acknowledge my reality in care without it becoming an automatic hospitalization. This is something providers can do regardless of whether or not they also struggle to connect MeAsIAm and MeAsIAppearAndExist. It requires compassion and recognition of my autonomy. Not embodied understanding.

Besides there are many different ways to experience psychosis. Who's to say that because two people both have it, they both share an understanding of it?

It does sometimes help communication though. I've found that it can be hard for those without phychosis to follow my thoughts as I say them in orders and intonations and patterning that is comfortable for me. I speak 2 languages, but I also communicate in a language that is not a language. It is a rhythm, a melody, a song in my head that lilts and crescendos and....whispers. I find that this is often confusing to those who speak only languages. Perhaps less so depending on which language, but that undercurrent of rhythm appears meaningful in ways I do not care to dissect. So I speak carefully. Precisely. In deliberate orders. I prefer to write than to speak because it better accommodates this and decreases the amount of translation that I forget to do in attempting to communicate with others.

These things are difficult. Not everyone who has psychosis as part of their experience will share my strengths, limitations, contexts, or decisions. This is probably fine. Or it would be if the workd had space for us as we are. It rarely seems to. This is probably less fine.

#i hope that people enjoyed this forray into my mind #i have tried to lessen the amount of translation work done so that my more natural expression comes through #but of course it is fairly impossible to actually communicate with others if i do no translation so this walked a fine line #do not use this to diagnose yourself with psychosis please #these experiences are also highly tied to how my psychosis interacts with other mental health symptoms/traits/experiences i have #but if you have psychosis and want to share about what that looks like for you in your reality #i would love to hear about it

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akihabara-division03 · 6 months

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ARB Birthday Special: Anika Kiyozaki

~ November 22nd ~

"A girl who is going to do big things cannot let small things get to her."

“A reflection on my life all these years isn't a bad idea. So… cheers to another year of being alive? I think? Heehee. Maybe I’m at the age where I should start lying about how old I really am?”

"On second thought, maybe this’ll be the year I stop thinking about things that happened so long ago, especially when I can’t do anything about them now. Lets leave the past behind! Lets look forward to the future and the things that’ll come my way!”

Voice Lines:

“Ok, look, so unlike last year, I was actually aware that my birthday was approaching. The days pass by so quickly when I get to see so many clients throughout the day, so I kinda forget my own birthday is a thing. But today! I planned to bring some desserts from a local cafe to give out to my coworkers and my clients I met today. But I was surprised this year again! The guys over at the clinic decorated the break room and my clients brought some goodies for me today! Man, I’m so grateful to have some of the sweetest clients ever!”

“You know, I used to think that the older I get, the less I’d look forward to my birthday. But I guess the older I get, the more it hits that I’m still alive all these years later. It could’ve been all over for me, what, like thirteen or fourteen years ago now? I guess I’m aging like a good glass of wine, huh?”

“Oh, hey, Shian! Care to explain why you’re in my office and sitting in my patients’ chair when I never let you in? Oh… hehe, thanks! Hm? A present for me? Oh, how sweet!”

“… You really handed me a mug that says ‘Back & Body Hurts…’ and it’s mimicking the ‘Bath & Body Works’ logo… Thanks, girl! It’s kinda funny, actually, This might just be my new favorite mug I have! Wha— how dare you call me interests ‘stupid’… I’m gonna pretend I didn’t just see you sign that—”

“Oh, Makina! What’s up, did you need something? Wait, hold on, you’re supposed to be at school! Oh my god, you gotta stop doing this… you’re gonna age me up another seventeen years… I swear to god, you take after teenage me too much. Oh, um… thanks…?”

“… Cute! I can see that it’s Baby Groot from the Marvel movies. I mean, he’s adorable— Baby Groot is always adorable, but… what is it? Ohhh that’s so cute! You know you could’ve waited to get home to give this to me, you did not need to play hooky… oh my fucking god, no!!”

Shian Lines:

“Oh, there you are. Finally. Look, the receptionists up front let me in. I guess being in the same team as the prized therapist that will be representing Akihabara gets you a few perks. Anyway, I just dropped by to tell wish you a ‘Happy Birthday’ in person. And to hand you your present.”

“A coffee aficionado like you needs more mugs to have around the house. And I remember you have this weird thing for stupid gag gifts. They’re weird, get over it. So a Happy Birthday to you, old lady.”

Makina Lines:

“Anika, you there? Hey. Oh, be quiet, it’s not like anyone’s gonna miss me at school so who cares if I disappear for a few hours. Dude, we’re not even related, don’t give me that ‘you take after me’ crap. And you sure you want me to leave? I got your present with me right here. I had to stop by for your birthday.”

“It’s just a phone stand. But it’s Baby Groot holding your phone for you. Yeah, yeah, I’m not just here for you. I was on my way to the new arcade that opened up in town. I promise when I win some new prizes you can have them as another birthday present.”

#hypnosis mic #hypnosis mic oc #hypmic #hypmic oc #hypnosis mic arb #hypmic arb #akihabara division #pixel syndicate #anika kiyozaki #shian meizono #makina setsukura #birthday 2023 #anika birthday 2023

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munchmemes · 2 years

Text

bob’s burgers sentence starters ( season 1 edition, part one )

❛ i love you but you’re terrible. ❜ ❛ i’m not good with dates, you know that. ❜ ❛ today’s my birthday? ❜ ❛ you have no idea what i’ve just been through ... do i have any toilet paper stuck to my buns? ❜ ❛ you left someone for me? ❜ ❛ that doesn’t make sense! a lot of numbers are divisible by three. ❜ ❛ i happen to produce a lot of saliva! ❜ ❛ don’t touch anything and don’t press any buttons. ❜ ❛ it’s a dead body! maybe the present is underneath? ❜ ❛ can you open the window a little more? i’m not going to assault you. ❜ ❛ that’s the ultimate crime, right? murder? no big deal. cannibal? woah. ❜ ❛ now my rash smells like bacon and it doesn’t itch anymore. i think we’re gonna be okay. ❜ ❛ i would rather be married to a suspected cannibal with a dream, like you, than a soft-lipped guy who never had a dream in the first place. ❜ ❛ they have kissing tips online? ❜ ❛ no one sheds like this family. it’s like a bunch of Chewbaccas. ❜ ❛ maybe they’ll leave sooner if they smell farts. ❜ ❛ i have an announcement to make: i am on a ladder. ❜ ❛ are you in the wall or in my horse poster? please, say horse poster. ❜ ❛ there’s nothing wrong with a man enjoying his crawl space. ❜ ❛ my therapist says, if i don’t value my time nobody’s gonna. ❜ ❛ i hope they’re using protection because i’m not gonna take care of that baby. ❜ ❛ you know what this makes me wanna do? eat your soul! ❜ ❛ i’m so tired. my grandparents are haunting my dreams. ❜ ❛ guess what, having a family makes you go nuts. ❜ ❛ we only need one megaphone out here. ❜ ❛ this could be huge for us! like a sex tape. it’s the best free advertising we’ve ever had. ❜ ❛ you know what? let’s just stop before we both say something we’ll regret. like that horses are better than cows ... i regret that. but it’s true. ❜ ❛ all you need is four wool socks, a mattress and the will to make it happen. ❜ ❛ hey, you should know. if anything happens, i’m in full attack mode right now. ❜ ❛ i’m hungry for blood. and also candy. ❜ ❛ no, i’m dead. you just fainted. ❜ ❛ does that make me a hypocrite to say that? no, it doesn’t and if it does, i’m okay with that. ❜ ❛ if you’re gonna lay on the floor, at least roll around so i don’t have to mop up later. ❜ ❛ their cat died. but in a really funny way. ❜ ❛ just wait till we get near it. they take off their shoes so when they open the door, the whole block smells like feet. ❜ ❛ it smells exotic. like ranch dressing. ❜ ❛ it’s not dancing. it’s a deadly form of street fighting. ❜ ❛ did you know it only takes two pounds of pressure to drive someone’s nose bone into their brain? ❜ ❛ listen, everybody. what happened today is in the past and we’re never gonna talk about it ever again. ❜ ❛ if you need me, i’ll be down here on the floor ... dying. ❜ ❛ you know, you have to learn to groan right. ❜ ❛ you can’t abandon the things you love just because of sexy dance fighting. ❜

#bob's burger rp starters #bob's burgers sentence starters #rp meme #rp starters #sentence starters

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orbleglorb · 8 months

Note

What’s on your mind

i need to finish zine jam stuff

i need to finish up that commission

i need to make sure my psychiatrist has written a letter of permission stating i can go on acutain (medicine that helps with acne)

i need to flip the laundry

i need to take my medicine

i need to fill my pillbox

i need to finish packing for my trip

i need to reschedule my therapy appointment

i need to message my mom's friend's friend about converting to judaism & where to begin

i need to stretch and snatch the muscle cream from my parents' room so i can walk tomorrow morning

i need to figure out how to keep kosher at my grandmother's house, if it's even possible. so much fucking pork. by god.

need to get a birthday present for my dad

need to get a birthday present for my mom

need to start thinking about what to get my cousin for christmas (my family is big, so we do a name draw every year. that way, we only have to buy one gift)

need to contact my old therapist's office and have them transfer records

should probably try to find a dentist or whatever specialist i need to look at my wisdom teeth

need to get up so i can do some of the things mentioned above

#asks 4 sasha #i'm. yeah

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txemrn · 2 years

Text

Stay

Chapter 2: "Ten Feet Under and Upside-Down"

Catch up here!

Word Count: ~6835 (I apologize; it's a long one)

Series Summary: With her family facing deportation back to Auvernal, fun-spirited Reid Ambrose quits college to support her family. But as fate would have it, she accepts a temporary job as a caregiver for the royal family, an experience that will challenge her, break her, and devastate her world in the most exciting of ways.

Chapter Summary: An old face returns to Cordonia to work for the royal family. But even after almost a decade away, not much has changed, and he's more miserable than ever.

Series Warning: ⛔ Please Be Advised: 18+ Only ⛔This series will contain mature material, including foul language, NSFW 🍋, discussion/depictions of war, violence, gun violence, assassination attempts; medical situations, including major character injuries; ethical dilemmas including euthanasia & bodily autonomy; mental health, including depression, PTSD, suicide

Series Music Inspo: “Awake” by Secondhand Serenade

Chapter Music Inspo: "Storm" by Lifehouse

AN: Majority of these characters and some plots belong to our friends at Pixelberry. Special thanks to my amazing friend @kat-tia801 for prereading, and my sweet friend @ao719 for helping me dial-up a scene as well as pre-reading it. Also, you will recognize some items from canon; other items may be completely contradictory to canon. Just got with it, and enjoy the story. 😊

~🖤~

Present (as a reminder: 3 years after Leo's tragic birthday party)

Coasting into the assigned parking spot at his apartment complex, Drake Walker haphazardly downshifts his truck before ripping the keys out of the ignition. All the lights seem to be out in his place, which will work in his favor for a possibly quiet night at home. No talking, especially no arguing. Hopefully with his quick maneuvering, the rumble of his old pick-up won’t disturb his wife and son from their sleep.

Fuck. It did. A lamp in the master bedroom flickers on, a glow illuminating through the window.

Drake lays his exhausted head on the steering wheel, unsure if he should turn back around and go back to his job and stay the night there. At least then he wouldn't have to hide himself, hide his emotions from his bride, pretend to be the man he promised her he would be.

Jodi doesn't deserve this. Any of this. The silent treatment. The avoidance. The denial of connection. She's too faithful, too fucking loving for her own good. Truth be told, her gentle answers, loving support, and abundant encouragement are the reasons Drake has been so successful both in college and starting his career as a physical therapist.

Why was he shutting down on her now?

It all started about six months ago, when Drake found the crown prince of Cordonia wandering on their front porch of their newly-built Texas home.

“Leo?” Drake cocked his head, furrowing his eyebrows in disbelief. He hadn’t seen the tall blond since the aftermath of his birthday party almost three years ago.

“Walker!” he extended his hand, striding widely to greet the commoner. “Long time no see, brother!”

Brother? Drake eyes the prince’s outstretched arm before hesitantly gripping it. Taking in Leo’s appearance, he notices a thick file folder under his arm, filled with what looked like a stack of disjointed documents with tabs and post-it notes.

“Jesus Christ, Texas is fucking hot,” Leo chuckled, dabbing his forehead, but his perfect pearly white smile remained on Drake. “Beautiful place you got here.”

Always the charmer. “Yeah,” Drake shifted his gaze to the screen door, seeing a curious Jodi with their son Finn on her hip. He gave her a nod with the notion that everything was okay before turning back to his visitor. “Listen, Leo…” he clapped his hands, “um, what are you doing here?”

Leo snickered. “Straight to the point as always, Walker. Is there some place we can talk?”

“Right here is just fine,” Drake fired back quickly, not trusting the future king’s intentions. He folded his arms, leaning a shoulder against a wooden post.

“On behalf of the Cordonian royal family, we’d like to hire you.”

Leo had offered Drake a full-time job to be the prince’s personal physical therapist. This, of course, made the commoner scoff, making it clear that he would never cross onto Cordonian soil again. Not for anyone, not even him. But when he stormed inside, he was stopped by Jodi who had been listening.

“He traveled halfway around the world, Drake Walker,” she quietly scolded, “at least talk to him. We’re talking about your old stomping grounds, your family… I know they treated you like shit, but… at least hear him out. Maybe it’s time to bury the hatchet, you know? Let go of your bitterness.”

“Jo… I don’t know.”

“Think of the good example you’ll be setting for Finn,” she smiled, batting her puppy-dog eyes.

Fuck, she was good.

Luckily Leo hadn’t retreated too far away from their land. Drake waved down his driver, and then invited Leo back to the house for a drink and for the opportunity to discuss his proposal. Once the crown prince was introduced to Jodi, the three of them sat down at the kitchen table while Finn took a nap on the couch.

Looking like an episode of Criminal Minds, the documents in the folder were carefully explained and spread out before the young couple’s eyes. It was a medical file, complete with lab test results, written diagnoses and prognoses by doctors, some of which were second and third opinions. Lists of medications, photographs of scarred skin, MRIs of nerve damage, degeneration and muscle atrophy: it was clear that there was a serious need.

But why him? Why Drake?

“We’ve already been through three therapists, and all of them have left us,” Leo answered somberly. “I’m not going to lie; it’s… difficult, and not just because your job is already difficult. But… he’s difficult.” Leo folded his hands on the table, mindlessly fidgeting with his thumbs. Suddenly something came over him, something more honest, something more human. “Please, Walker,” his voice shook before clearing his throat. “We… We need you.”

Drake quietly sits in the driver's seat in the stillness of the night, fidgeting with his wedding band as Leo’s words echo in his head.

We need you…

He reminisces about his childhood in Cordonia, about games of tag in the hedge maze, fishing trips out on Lake Malus, and sleepovers on the back lawn of the palace with only his sleeping bag, a flashlight and comic books.

But, along with the fond memories of his childhood came the bittersweet remembrance of his friendship with Liam. He was always there. Always–well, for the most part, at least up until the end. The prince was Drake’s confidant, his greatest support. He gave sound advice, but also knew when to sit, whether it was to listen or because Drake needed silence.

He didn’t turn his back on Drake even after he felt abandoned by his own family.

Maybe that’s why Drake finally agreed to this arrangement; maybe he felt indebted somehow to the royal family, to the memory of Liam being patiently supportive when tragedy struck. The sacrifice probably didn’t seem great to the leaders of a country, but to Drake, it was everything.

Never in a million years would Drake have guessed this would be his life, a selfless life of servitude to the royals, a miserable life putting them first before his own family. Just like his father. When he left Cordonia almost a decade ago, his decision seemed so certain, so clear, and he swore that he would never see any of these horrid people again.

He glances towards the orange glow, pouring from his bedroom window, and he worries about his marriage. The pent-up regret and festering anger has been building since the moment he stepped back onto Cordonia soil. The job was difficult, and it was near impossible to work with his ornery client. Drake returns home late every night with battle wounds on his heart.

But, tonight he suddenly feels an overwhelming sense of guilt as he watches the shadows shift against the ambient lighting. Has he been silently taking out his frustrations on his wife? He’s trying to spare her his heartache by keeping it to himself; but in doing so, is he neglecting her needs?

Damnit, my family needs me, too.

He reaches into a secret pocket of his duffle bag, and pulls out two cigarettes. Tucking one behind his ear to chainsmoke later, he lights the other one, pulling in the deep burn. He combs his fringe out of his eyes before leaning back on his head rest, exhaling his smoky breath. But still, the haunting anxiety remains.

How the fuck did we even get here?

------

9 Years ago

A sudden loud clatter jolts nineteen-year-old Drake awake from his impromptu nap. Unsure of the time or how long he has been asleep, he intently rubs his eyes with his fists before succumbing to a large, vocal yawn, stretching his sculpted arms over his head. Quickly noticing the darkness outside, he reaches for his phone and notices the time.

1:24 AM

The fuck, Liam?

Last year, the young prince started his rigorous royal training in preparation for his older brother Leo’s ascension to the Cordonian throne. Being separated from his best friend, Drake quickly made himself busy around the palace, mainly serving as a stablehand, until Liam would retire from the evening. But, with constant travels, the wearisome studies and the long diplomatic meetings, the two men discovered less and less free time to spend together. Liam was forming new bonds and new relationships with fellow dignitaries and politicians while his friendship with Drake was starving for a connection. After a few short months, they were barely texting one another.

Today is Liam’s birthday, and the two men had agreed to finally catch up with drinks at the beer garden to celebrate. Drake came home early to make himself presentable before heading over to Liam’s quarters early. He was nervous, not because he was finally going to come face-to-face with Liam, but he was anxious about talking with him. Drake had come to an important conclusion, and having Liam’s support meant the world.

When he arrived to the room, no one answered the door. The commoner let himself in with his spare key only to discover a dark room with the young prince nowhere to be found.

After leaving multiple voice messages and sending off several unopened texts, Drake contacted Lars, Liam’s personal guard.

“Walker, you know it’s against protocol for me to tell you where he is at–”

“Lars, just… c’mon,” Drake sighed, “we had plans. Tonight. I mean, maybe he forgot? Or–or maybe he thought I stood him up?” The silence on the phone spoke loud and clear, giving Drake the answer he didn’t want. “When you find a heart, tell him I was looking for him.” Ending the call, Drake slumped into a leather loveseat in Liam’s bedroom.

Sitting alone in the dimly lit room, Drake was left to his own thoughts. He remembers his mom lecturing Savannah all the time about the importance of the quality of friendships rather than the quantity of friends she claimed she had. She would say kitschy phrases, like, “Some people come into your life for a lifetime while others come into your life for a season.”

But the latter was for other people and their failed relationships; this didn’t apply to Drake and his childhood friend Liam. Right? They grew up together; they became men together. They’ve seen each other at their best and at their absolute worst. They’ve rejoiced together; they've grieved together. Liam was his ride or die.

Then why was it all of a sudden so goddamn hard to even be around each other, let alone talk to each other?

Drake rakes his fingers through his hair, finally resting his forehead in his hands as the racket continues. First, he hears keys pawing at the door, like a cat to a scratch post, followed by poorly stifled giggles and even more obnoxious hushes. Finally busts open with an unkempt, very drunk Liam with lips glued to a shapely brunette, her dress already unzipped.

Drake clears his throat, causing the couple to jump apart.

“Drake!” Liam slurs, “Just the man I was looking for!” He glides towards his best friend, patting him on the shoulder before turning his attention to the woman in the room. “I want you to meet Lady… Lady… Latvia–”

“Actually, it’s Leilani,” she kindly interrupts, “Lady Leilani of Latvia.” She offers a crooked smile to Drake while Liam plays cool, snapping his fingers and pointing to her in acknowledgement that she was correct. She stumbles forward towards the commoner with an extended hand to shake while her other arm keeps her bodice covering her chest.

Raising an eyebrow at the trainwreck in front of him before glaring at the inebriated prince, Drake raises his voice. “We need to talk, Li.”

With Leilani giving Liam a concerned look, he walks up behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist as he nuzzles his nose into her neck. “Can this wait until tomorrow?” Liam calls out, his words nasally and muffled against her skin.

Drake stands quickly with a heavy foot. “No.”

With his friend’s words shooting through him like an arrow, Liam quickly gives a sober nod. He whispers something into the young coed’s ear, causing her to giggle as he helps her back into her dress. She makes her exit, swaying her hips through the door, but not before she blows a kiss to Liam.

Liam catches the airborne kiss, touching his palm to his face as she finally exits the room. “Isn’t she something?”As he turns to face Drake, the prince is met with a cold stare, a lump suddenly forming in his throat. “Well,” Liam clears his throat as he makes himself comfortable on the side of his bed. “So, what’s up–hey! We missed you tonight, bruh” he jokes, finger-gunning towards Drake.

“‘Bruh’?” Drake scoffs. “I was here, Li… waiting for you… like we had planned.”

Liam gives him a funny look. “We did?” He shrugs off his sports coat, letting it crumple on the ground as he untucks his pale pink oxford. “Well,” the blond lays back on his bed, letting out a hefty exhale. “You should’ve joined us–”

“Are you fucking for real right now?”

“Drake, relax,” he waves his hand flippantly in the air, closing his eyes. But, when he hears a loud sigh, he sits up on his elbows with one eye open. "Wait… are you seriously mad at me? For not drinking with you? Last I checked–” Liam extends his arms above his head, allowing his head to hit the plush comforter. “It’s my birthday!”

“Fuck it,” Drake mutters, standing up to head for the door. “I’m leaving–”

“Whoa, whoa,” Liam jumps up to stop his best friend from leaving, tripping over his jacket on the way. “Seriously, dude,” Liam puts his hand to his chest as he begins to sing, “talk to me. Tell me your name–”

Drake pushes Liam out of the way, causing him to stumble to the ground.

“Whoa there, old friend,” Liam pulls himself back up. “That was kinda hard.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” Drake opens the door.

“I thought you wanted to talk,” Liam shouts, a twinge of humor in his voice.

“You’re drunk–”

“And for once,” Liam draws closer to the shaggy brunette, jabbing his finger into his chest, “you’re not!”

Drake sees red as he glares at the shell of the man that he used to consider his brother. When did he become so rude? So flippant? So careless? So… Leo? “You know what, Li?” He raises his hands in surrender, slowly stepping backwards through the door. “We’re done.” He turns on his heel and storms towards his private quarters.

“Drake? Drake, c’mon,” Liam calls out, jogging towards the commoner. He grabs him by the shoulder, turning him around. “Listen, I’m sorry. I–I'm dunk–drunk. Let’s just talk about this tomorrow–”

“No, Li. There is no more time to talk.” Drake shrugs off Liam’s hand as he returns to his pursuit. “Besides, I have a plane to catch in the morning.”

“A plane?” Liam catches up to Drake again, this time cutting in front of him. “Where–where are you going?”

"Away," he grumbles, finally reaching his room.

"Okay," Liam curiously stops, raising an eyebrow, his voice becoming softer. "When are you coming back?"

On cue, Drake unlocks his door to reveal a few packed boxes and luggage. Liam flips on an overhead light, his eyes registering the scene. He furrows his brows, as he tracks his pacing friend. Drake finally turns around, shoving his hands in his pocket before daring to look up at the prince.

"You're moving," Liam states matter-of-factly.

"To Texas," Drake finishes, eyes trained to the floor.

"But… but what about your life here–"

"What life, Liam?" Drake angrily interrupts. "I see the same three guys every day down in the stables. I eat breakfast and dinner by myself," he suddenly chokes on his words, his breath hitching as he turns away to collect himself. He looks back to Liam, his eyes reddening with the threat of tears. "I spend my free-time wondering if my fucking best friend will actually talk to me today."

"So this is my fault?" Liam shifts his weight, putting his hands on his hips. "Drake," he scoffs, "we knew this day was coming, my noble training, my duties. And this is harder, harder than I ever imagined. I’m sorry that we don’t hang out as much. But, cut me some slack."

"I have… For a long time now."

Liam looks away, his lips twisting. Every emotion flashes across his youthful, chiseled face. Confusion. Anger. Worry. Betrayal. Running a hand over his stubbled chin, he looks back at his friend.

"How do I fix this?"

Hearing the genuine desperation in Liam's voice, Drake drops his head. He rubs the back of his neck, his eyes still trained on the floor. "Li, I–"

"Just tell me. And I'll make it happen. Anything."

Drake sardonically snickers, shaking his head. "Don't you want better for me? For me to make something of myself?"

"Is it a job? Because I can get you a better job. Or we can get you into Cordonia U in the Fall–"

"Wow," Drake blows a raspberry with his lips. "Do you seriously think I need your help? That I'm incapable of creating my own life? My own future?" Fuming, Drake catches his breath. “Jesus fucking Christ, you nobles are all the same. You think you can just throw your wealth, your fucking title and get your way–”

“It never stopped you from accepting my help before.”

A dark stillness engulfs the room as the two friends stare daggers into each other. Liam crosses his arms, his physique growing rigid as he towers his extra three inches of height over denim-clad commoner. Breathing madly, Drake’s broad chest rises and falls as his hands grip into fists. They stood there for a few minutes, hurling silent insults at each other, tearing each other apart with their quiet thoughts.

Finally, Drake shakes his head in disgust, throwing up his hands before heading for the door. “I’ll send for my stuff,” he mutters under his breath as he intentionally bumps his shoulder into the prince’s arm, pushing him off balance.

Liam scoffs. He brushes off his arm as if Drake had left something dirty on him from impact. He follows him out the door to watch him walk down the main corridor.

“Like mother, like son.”

Drake spins around, his jaw tightening. He closes the space between him and Liam before launching a wrathful swing of his arm, his fist abruptly meeting a hearty crack against the prince’s chiseled face.

Liam stumbles backwards, falling to a knee as he holds his cheek. But before he can retaliate, Liam’s guard Lars quickly apprehends Drake, knocking him to the ground as he calls for reinforcements over his earpiece. With six more guards swarming the floor, Drake is picked up by his pinned arms.

“Stop!” Liam bellows, struggling to stand up. With the help of another guard, Liam steadies his gate before drawing closer to Drake, He wipes at his lip, noting the dark red crimson trickling from his mouth. He locks his eyes on his childhood friend before slowly shaking his head.

“You ungrateful bastard,” Liam growls before turning to Lars. “Show Mr. Walker out.” Liam turns on his heel, walking back to his quarters before slamming the door.

------

Present

An abrupt knocking on the glass breaks Drake’s reverie. He anxiously sits up, but his troubled heart instantly takes comfort at the sight of her, his bride, his person. It was his Jodi. Even in a ratty old SFA t-shirt and an old pair of his boxers, she was still stunning. Her hair reflects the moonlight, turning her usual golden strands into ethereal white. Her warm caramel-chocolate eyes hold the universe, Drake’s whole universe, as they sparkle and dance just for him. She delicately presses her fingertips against the pane, her heart-shaped lips offering a pleading smile. Baby, please. I’m here.

Drake furrows his brow at the sight of her. His lips can’t help but frown as the pricking of tears sting his eyes. He finally drops his head into hands, shielding his face from her view. He knew the dam that was holding back his emotions would eventually break, and his heart would bleed out as the unbearable weight on his shoulders came crashing down around him. But, he didn’t want to do this in front of Jodi, not in front of the woman that trusts him to be her rock and strength.

“Drake?” She softly calls to him. “Drake baby?” She gently taps her fingertips against the window again to get his attention, but he doesn’t answer her.

Jodi quickly rounds the truck, climbing in on the other side while shoving his duffle bag into the back of the cab. “Baby? Baby?” She slides her arms around Drake’s broad shoulders, pulling him snuggly into her embrace, resting her chin in his tousled hair. Her face etches with worry, but she’s not a fool; she knows her husband, and she knows that this–whatever this is– has been building like a cancer inside of him for a while now.

At least since they moved to Cordonia.

“I’m sorry,” Drake whispers, but Jodi quickly hushes him endearingly, combing her fingers through his hair and behind his ear. “I promised you a better life than this. I promised you a better husband than–”

“Don’t you dare talk about my husband that way, Drake Walker.” She playfully scorns, planting kisses on the crown of his head.

Drake sits up, giving his wife a half-crooked smile as he quickly dries his eyes with the heel of his hand. He then wraps a strong arm around her, pulling her to his side, their lips tenderly meeting.

Jodi reaches over, lacing her petite hand with his large fingers. Her eyes find his glassy stare, but he quickly looks away from her, clearing his throat.

She squeezes his grip before casually looking out the window. “Your mom used to say, 'He's just like Jack.'

Drake's eyes widen, turning back to his wife. "What?"

The corners of Jodi's mouth turn up as she continues. "Apparently your dad was incredibly strong. Tough. Hard-headed–"

Drake guiltily chuckles under his breath. "Sounds slightly familiar."

"And yet… very emotional. Haunted even." She looks up at her husband, their eyes locking on one another. As silence fills the truck, Jodi's attention falls to their laced fingers. Gently letting go of his hand, she begins twirling his platinum wedding ring.

"Listen, Jo–"

She holds a finger to his mouth and sweetly grins. "I love you, Drake Walker," her eyes twinkle, "just the way you are, even when you feel like being quiet and I know,” she chuckles, “I know. You have to mull things over before you can talk about them." She cups his face, gently stroking the coarse hairs of his bearded jaw. “But you married me. You don't have to shoulder the pain alone anymore. You don't have to worry about tomorrow or about decisions or about life alone anymore." Watching a tear swell and threaten to drop from his long lashes, Jodi gently rubs her thumb across his lower eyelid. "You can be quiet, that's fine. But you eventually need to talk to me, Drake. Please–" she sniffles, "don't shut me out. Don't–don't shut us out–"

"Oh, baby," Drake exhales, his arms enveloping his wife. He leans in, resting his forehead against hers as he closes his eyes. "I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry… I–" he sighs, "I never meant to do this to you. All I want to do… is protect you, be a man that you are proud of–”

“Drake–”

“Jodi Walker… you are the most precious thing this life has ever given me… damnit–” his breath hitches as he presses his face intimately into her hair, "I need you. God, everyday. I need you every fucking day. More and more."

"I need you, too, baby," Jodi sweetly whispers in his ear, her voice hoarse from tears. She presses a firm kiss into his hairline, her fingers tangled tightly in his hair. “And I am proud of you.”

For the first time in almost six months, Drake suddenly understands what it means to be supported, to be heard and to be loved. It's not that his wife failed to do these things for him. But he realizes it's easy to feel comforted when he feels positive about himself and rewarded by life. He promised Jodi happiness, and he is bound and determined to ensure she always has that.

Even if that means hiding himself and his own demons.

But he had forgotten one very important detail: Jodi made the exact same promise of a happy life, to love him, and to comfort him through every curve ball thrown at them. He’s not that little boy anymore, suffering through his father’s death and mother’s abandonment alone. He has someone now, his person, his better half, his forever.

After spending some much needed time in each other's arms, whispering sentiments of love and sharing sweet kisses, the couple is interrupted by a tiny voice on the baby monitor. They both stare at the device intently, finally raising an eyebrow to one another, holding their breath as they try to decipher the message.

"Damnit! Okay! Fine. I have no idea,” Jodi confesses, throwing up her hands as a guilty expression paints across her face. “I have no fucking idea what the hell he is saying half the time."

"Shit, I thought it was just me," Drake snickers, rubbing his forehead.

Jodi slowly furrows her eyebrows. “You think he’s normal?”

“Meh,” Drake shrugs his shoulders, “I don’t think we’ve fucked him up too badly just yet–”

“Drake!” Jodi swats at her husband’s arm as he pretends to shield himself. They tumble into a fit of snickers as Drake puts his arm around her shoulders, hugging her tightly.

"Well, I better go check on him," she gives a sorrowful smile before pressing her lips to Drake one last time. "Take your time… but don't dare keep me waiting alone for too long, Mr. Walker," she winks as she begins to slide out of the truck.

Drake grabs her elbow, pulling her back to his side as their mouths meet again. A soft moan tumbles from her chest as he strokes her hair back.

"We're in this together… right, Mrs. Walker?" he kisses her nose, making her scrunch it up.

"Always."

------

By the time Drake makes it upstairs, a lone kitchen light illuminates his path in the open-concept layout of his apartment. He quietly sets his bag down next to the front door before kicking off his tennis shoes. He strips down into his white undershirt and boxer briefs, gathering his dirty scrubs to throw into the wash.

Softly padding to the kitchen to warm up some dinner, he notices a certain little 3-year-old’s upside-down handprint on a piece of construction paper. As he draws close to the craft, Drake’s smile begins to grow as the gray blob of paint begins to take the shape of an elephant, complete with a googly-eye glued near the base of the tiny thumb and his ear, toes and tail drawn on with a permanent marker, no doubt drawn on by Jodi.

To: Daddy

Drake traces the hand print, a sense of pride billowing in his chest. My boy. Feeling the tight ache in his cheeks from smiling, he glances towards Finn’s room and notices the door is ajar, his night light pouring through the crack out into the hallway. He quietly moseys to his son’s room, peering in to see his son, sleeping soundly with his chestnut strands sprawled out carelessly on his pillow. With a secure grip on a toy firetruck, the young child’s arm is relaxed over his head while the thumb of his other hand is tucked barely into the waistband of his dinosaur underwear.

Drake chuckles to himself, admiring the adorable vision when he suddenly looks down, noticing that he had his own thumb tucked into the waistband of his boxers.

And it hits him: what else am I unknowingly teaching him?

Drake has fond memories of his father: camping, fishing, learning how to tie a tie, grilling the perfect steak, tuning up a car. But one thing he doesn’t like to think about are the times his father wasn’t there–especially since those times outnumber the moments he was present.

And it was all for the sake of the job. Drake remembers phone calls in the middle of the night, impromptu international trips, interrupted holidays. And then when his dad was home, he wasn’t always present with them. Often times, his mother would shoo Drake and his younger sister away to allow for Jackson to rest by the fire with a bottle of scotch in his hands.

But Drake has nothing, but admiration and gratefulness for his dad, for all of the good times, the life lessons and pep talks. Because of the early, pleasant experiences, Drake always imagined raising his children the exact same way.

Only now that he’s in Cordonia, he’s not.

But that stops tonight.

Drake tenderly picks up his son, Finn’s head instantly nuzzling back to sleep on his dad’s shoulder, gripping tightly to his shirt. He knew that Jodi was probably going to kill him for getting the little one out of his bed, but at this moment, holding their boy, reminding him that Daddy is always there seems more important.

Drake strolls into his bedroom with a snoozing Finn in his arms, wrapped up with his patch-work blankie. With her eyes growing heavy, Jodi is mindlessly scrolling through TikTok in the dark when she hears her husband’s heavy steps. She sits up on her elbow, and then notices her son.

“Drake?” She turns on a lamp, slowly sitting up in bed. “What are you doing? Is he okay—?”

“Yeah,” Drake looks down at his son, nestled in his arms, “everything is perfect now.”

------

The next morning, Drake feels renewed, like shackles have been broken off of his hands and feet, setting him free. There’s no sense of dread or anxiety. He doesn't feel agonizing guilt or slithering voices of self-loathing. Rather, he's at peace; he's comforted. He has a swelling of confidence in his chest and a new lease of determination in his soul. And when he wakes up next to his wife and son, his heart almost aches from the overflow of love for them.

He contacts his work, notifying them that he would be present for his client at the regular scheduled start time in accordance with his contract. He took a very excited Finn to the kitchen for breakfast, knowing that his early-bird of a wife would be in shortly.

Only she wasn’t.

After bribing his son to take five ‘big boy bites’, Drake cleans Finn up before securing him inside a baby gate with his blankie and a new episode of Dino Ranch. Returning to the kitchen, he pours a mug of piping hot coffee for Jodi while preparing a short stack of pancakes with spiced apple butter, his wife’s new favorite topping since moving to Cordonia. Arranging the meal on a rustic, wooden tray, he carries it, tiptoeing carefully into the bedroom. He finds her already up, rinsing out her mouth before returning to bed.

“Morning, Mrs. Walker,” he smiles, presenting her breakfast like a trophy..

“Mmmm, morning, Mr. Walker,” her voice is raspy. “I see you’ve been cooking–”

“Jo–” he interrupts, putting the tray down and cradling her face. “You okay?” He gently strokes his thumbs across the dark, purple circles under her swollen eyes.

“Yeah,” she reassures, putting her hands on his wrists. “I–I’m just tired. Someone invited a certain little boy into our bed that I swear is going to be the kicker for the Cowboys someday."

“A kicker instead of a… walker?” he mischievously raises his eyebrows, ensuring his wife got the punchline.

Oh, she did. Jodi playfully glares at her husband. "You know? Just because you're a dad now doesn't mean you have to tell dad jokes."

"You love my jokes," he badgers, his voice growing heated as his mouth grazes gently across her lips.

"Mmmm… I love you," she croons.

Their mouths meet again, but the intimate touch is gone too quickly. Jodi playfully pouts, the adorable sight coaxing Drake to kiss her again. And then again. And then once more. “Greedy girl this morning,” he growls, handing her the coffee before pinching her ass.

“Baby," she yelps. "Hey, wait… shouldn’t you be at work?” Jodi furrows her eyebrows before sniffing her mug and stealthily setting it down.

“Technically my contract says I have to be in by 8:30 AM. The only one that wants me there at 6 is my fucking client–”

“Drake,” she warns.

“What?” He shrugs his shoulders, feigning ignorance.

“Are you going to always refer to him as your ‘fucking client’?”

“That’s all he is, Jo,” he spits back. He watches his wife calmly push her loose tendrils behind her ear before she dips her finger into the apple butter. Drake sighs, “I’m sorry, okay? It’s just… it’s different. He’s different.”

“I guess I don’t understand. What about all the phone calls and facetimes?” She licks her finger. “I mean I know that all stopped when… uh, well… after everything happened, and–and–and you and I had Finn, then the wedding. But I thought surely you two would go back to–”

“It’s not like that anymore, Jo,” he sighs. “I know you were hoping that somehow moving back here would be like some magical family reunion. It’s not. We’re not family anymore.”

“Have… you… talked to–?”

“No. And we don’t talk about her either.” He bites back, a silence falling between them as he stares at his twiddling thumbs. He finally sighs. “Look, Jo, I’m sorry. I know I’m being short with you, but this? This is my nightmare. Every-fucking-day. I spend my entire day trying to save him, and he’s a stranger, as if we have absolutely no history. He’s… just a fucking asshole.”

Jodi places an endearing hand on his upper back. “I know, baby. But, you’re doing the right thing–”

“Right thing?” Drake blows a raspberry with his mouth. “The only reason why I’m even here in Cordonia is I was a last ditch effort. He wants to move on, and they thought I’d be the cure,” he sarcastically snickers, “he doesn’t want a fucking cure.” He looks away from his wife, taking a moment to think. “You know? They are actually considering hiring another ‘caretaker’,” he air-quotes, “but she has to be a young female–”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously. Who knows? Maybe that will interest him in wanting to stay.”

“Will she have big tits and dollar bills hanging out of her g-string?” Jodi jokes.

“They can’t hire you,” Drake winks, earning him a swat from his wife. He gets up and retrieves her plate and mug. “Which… how is the training going at your new job?”

“It’s good,” she brightens, as she follows Drake into the kitchen where they can see Finn playing with his toy cars in the living area. “I start at the embassy on Monday, and then I’ll go to the satellite campuses for interviews after that—”

“Jodi?” He interjects, his voice becoming worrisome as he observes her untouched plate. “Aren’t you hungry? That’s fresh apple butter.”

“I can tell it is,” she grins. “I’m just not hungry yet.”

Drake nods in understanding, but suddenly notices her untouched coffee, an early morning staple for a fully functioning Jodi Walker.

“So,” she continues, “I found out some good news.”

Drake sits down to put on his shoes, turning his ear to her. “Oh yeah? What’s that?”

“A spot opened up at the employee daycare, so I don’t think we need Sav afterall.”

“Jo,” Drake runs his hands down his face, “we talked about this. Sav is family–”

“And this is the start of our son's education. Did you know that they use the same programs that the nobles use for private lessons–”

Drake grumbles. “Weren’t you just asking me if I thought he was normal?”

“Drake.”

“--about how if we’ve fucked him up yet?”

“Drake Walker.” Jodi crosses her arms, raising an eyebrow. “Please don’t start with that noble shit right now. I’m only wanting the best for him. I love Sav, but I want him doing more than just playing with cars and watching television. Not to mention that drive? Everyday? Especially in Valtoria traffic?”

“You also don’t have to go back to work,” Drake mutters. When he notices the room is silent, he turns around to see a glaring Jodi with her hands on her hips. He nervously clears his throat. “Sorry. Continue, sweetheart.”

“He needs structure–”

“Have you met Bertrand?”

“Drake,” she rubs her head as if she is developing a headache. She quietly saunters towards her husband, slowly snaking her hands around his abdomen. “Please. This will be really good for Finn. I promise.” She tightens her embrace, pressing her forehead into his broad chest. “They have an open house in a few weeks that we can go to. Would that make you feel better?”

Drake gently runs his hands up and down his wife’s back, milling around the information he just learned. He takes a deep breath, finally looking down and meeting her pleading gaze. “Fine. Open house, but Savannah until then.”

“Deal.” Their lips meet briefly, eliciting a soft moan from Jodi.

“Any other benefits I should know about?” Drake sasses.

“Actually…” Jodi bites her bottom lip, “remember how I only got eight weeks off after I had Finn, and only six of them were paid for?”

Drake huffs under his breath as he pulls out his lunchbox to pack. “Don’t remind me… fucking school district is a bunch of crooks.”

Jodi widens her eyes, placing her pointer finger on her mouth as she shifts her eyes to Finn. Drake retracts his head like a turtle before mouthing the word sorry.

“Anyway,” Jodi jovially rolls her eyes, “so get this: even as a part-time employee, I still get six months of paid maternity leave. Guaranteed.”

“O…kay.” Drake titters, opening up the refrigerator, “is this your subtle-not-so-subtle way of bringing up the baby conversation again?”

“No–I mean… sortof?” She cocks her head, her tongue pressed to the back of her teeth.

The moment Drake hears the inflection in her voice, he freezes. Then whirls around to face his wife, noticing how extremely tired she looks. Then he turns to face the sink, glancing at her untouched plate and mug of coffee.

“Jo?” His eyes shift suspiciously towards his wife.

“Drake?” She smiles sheepishly.

“You’re… not…” he tries hard to stifle his smile, but the joy in his gaze betrays him.

Jodi shrugs her shoulders before nodding her head enthusiastically, biting her bottom lip. Within seconds, her husband scoops her up in his arms, lifting her off the ground as their lips melt in a tender kiss.

“Are you serious? Wait… are you sure?” He whispers. “You’re not fucking with me? We–we’re really having another baby?” Watching her husband fumble with his words, Jodi is consumed with giggles, her cheeks pinking with joy. Before she can even answer a single question, Drake pushes his mouth back into hers, tracing a trail of heated kisses to the back of her neck before finally embracing her tightly, burying his face into her gold locks. Wrapped in each other's arms, they fall into a pleasurable silence as they gently rock each other back and forth, basking in the blessing of turning into a family of four. “I love you, Jo.”

“Love you, Walker," she echoes hoarsely, sharing one last peck on his lips. Suddenly, she bounds to the baby gate where Finn is watching intently, reaching for his parents. Jodi picks him up, saddling him on her hip as she spins him around. “And… I love you!” She squeals, grabbing his belly, tickling him lightly as he throws his head back with giggles.

“Oh, damnit.”

Jodi abruptly stops, growing concerned as her husband’s face drops. “What’s wrong?”

“I just realized… I’m not gonna have any extra dollar bills for that new stripper–”

Jodi scrunches up her face. “Let’s get Daddy,” she whispers to Finn. They begin to tickle Drake as he shields himself, all the while laughing hysterically. “No strippers, ya hear me? Y’all are going to hire a sweet girl with manners… that can keep her clothes on during working hours.”

“That’s what strippers do during working hours,” he snorts, enveloping his small family, planting a kiss on Finn's chubby cheek. As Drake tries to smooth down his son's inherited cowlick, he grows quiet, his expression pensive. “You’re right, you know.” Drake exhales, becoming more serious. “I do still care… And if I can’t make him feel better, then I hope this crazy plan of hiring a nice girl works.”

“I hope so too, baby.”

“I just hope she can break through to him,” he sighs, “and that it’s not too late.”

~🖤~

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alizeh-tu-badi-mushkil-hai · 1 year

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Dear Diary,

At present, it is 1.52 am and all are appear to be asleep. I am unsure if he too has dozed off, or if he is occupied with his laptop, indulging in Netflix or perhaps pondering about me.

I have not communicated with him for nearly a hundred days, but do not assume that we were in a romantic relationship. Our connection was perhaps more intimate than that of friends, but not quite as romantic as lovers. We had spent a significant amount of time in the nearby area, so when I leave home, memories come flooding back to me.

As soon as I left to visit my friend, his words began to reverberate incessantly in my thoughts. We had a conversation about books at a bookstore nearby and he kindly purchased me a book. I recall walking a short distance and encountering a book cafe that was illuminated by yellow lights. I reminisce about sipping tea and discussing my sorrow. After walking a short distance, I spotted the ice cream parlor that I adore and we ate delicious choco chip flavor ice cream . A fond memory I have is when he bestowed upon me a chocolate bar during a time when I was experiencing discomfort from bleeding and cramping. I recollect when he visited me during a time he committed a significant error that triggered a portion of my unsettled emotional trauma. I remember dedicating an entire week towards creating a birthday present for him while in a cafe. I have a vivid memory of crafting an embroidery on a handkerchief with our unique expression "dude, you are awesome ." I also remember him visiting me during the festival season when I was feeling isolated and uninterested in the festivities. It is lamentable that every detail of our mutual relationship is still vivid in my memory.

I searched for scissors from my drawer and proceeded to destroy all of the things he gifted me before disposing of them in the garbage. Indeed, I am experiencing pain. The memories I made with him in my city are so painful that they make me feel suffocated. His stupid smile , tender touch, cozy physique, warm body endearing gaze, and parched lips. Although I can recall all of it, recollecting him in this manner is disheartening.

Recently a memory flashed in front of my eyes I observed him eating an ice cream instead of exchanging hopeless kisses, unaware that this would be the final occasion for their rendezvous. While reminiscing about my last interaction with him, I envision my tear-stained face clutching a dessert consisting of two scoops of choco chip ice cream. He is no longer in my possession. The words felt like a venomous serpent sank its fangs into my heart, leaving it icy and lifeless. Occasionally, my thoughts turn to him, and his discussions frequently occupy a spot in my subconscious. In what manner will I be reunited with him? Will he gently tap my shoulder or hold onto my waist? Could it be a warm embrace from behind or a sudden shout of my name? Perhaps he might even stumble before me or simply walk past without acknowledgment. Will he recall me fondly or choose to never cross paths again?

Every time I leave my home, I am constantly searching for him in every conceivable manner. I am searching for him within the premises of my bookstore. I'm searching for him in the vicinity of the ice cream store. I am locating him in the vicinity of the road where we hugged each other for the first time. I am searching for him at the book cafe where we first encountered each other. I am searching him like a restless person in this city.

I am uncertain about when I will cease expressing myself about him in this way. My therapist advised me on the importance of sitting with my emotions and allowing them to pass naturally. However, although I am doing my best, it is not an easy task.

My desire is to refrain from expressing my dislike for him and my wish for him to stay away from me physically, as I am truly fond of him and yearn to be close enough to kiss him. Why should I be questioning my love for him when he's the one who is questioning it?

#desiblr #diary entry #poetry #mental health

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impulsemuppet · 6 months

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My birthday is coming up and ever since I was kid I’ve gotten a severe case of birthdays depression (I was diagnosed with depression when I was 12 btw). Now I know it’s technically not a real diagnosis, but my therapist always tried to figure out why but it was never very clear.

I think I figured out why today. It’s not childhood trauma, fear of getting older, maybe a little bit that I feel unaccomplished but still no…

I think the reason is cause I feel like I should have more control over what I get and what I do on that day. I always try to make my family’s and my friends’ bdays to be the best, but I never feel I get the same back. Not so much my friends anymore, although I don’t really get to spend time with my irl friends much anymore.

My family tho… it’s never where I want to eat, it’s always you have to be mindful that the kids have food they like, my mom is a picky eater so she had to like it, it has to be convenient for everyone. Like last year, they planned a trip to another city without even asking me if I wanted to go.

It’s also the presents. I’ve always been called too childish for my age (fun considering that when I was a child, I was too mature for my age) so when they ask me what I want for my birthday it can’t be anything silly or fun I want, no that’s childish. It has to be clothes, something that helps me with work, something for my room or my apartment. It can’t be the giant monkey plushie I wanted since I was like 5 but I’ve always felt was too much of a splurge to justify.

And it’s like petty, I know. I should be happy I get anything a all, but I can’t help to think that that’s reason why I get like this when my birthday approaches. I’m not even gonna get into how it was with some people I’m no longer friends (like one time most of them didn’t show up and they had the lamest excuse as to why).

#i just needed to get this off my chest #vent #personal

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eekwinn · 9 months

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Ah, for my birthday this year my mother seems to think the best present is to tell me therapy and medication have done nothing so I should try an alternative pseudo-science acupressure technique for my anxiety that she learned on youtube! And when I decline we get in a fight because she doesn't want to see a therapist.

The woman whose husband is only kept alive by modern medicine, who herself is on blood pressure medication, who had a c-section or otherwise would've died in childbirth, is skeptical about the medications her daughters are on for their mental health. So fun.

#personal #my therapist is out of ideas of how i should deal with her bc she won't improve herself #i am worried she'll decend into dementia in the next decade like her mother's siblings rather than in her 90s like her mother #she also hasn't dealt with the feeling around her mom dying last summer #before gramma died mom told me she wanted gramma to apologize to her #but when i said that today my mom claimed 'You need your hearing checked' bc she never said that

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watchtheblog · 8 months

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as always, hello to my 9 true real life friends, the 22 of you in close friends, my 40 internet besties, the handful of you i was able to lure over here with a LiNk iN BiO, at least one of the girls who copy and pasted my internet persona for her 200 followers, some other weirdos, biters, and haters (and their partners), my therapist if i ask her to read this to understand me better, and anyone else who is here and can read this!!

as a preface to a list of extravagant gifts i wish to receive for my birthday (tuesday, 26 september), i am going to tell you a little story. if you don’t care and just want to buy me a gift or just want to use this to curate yours, scroll to the bottom. (if you need inspiration from years past, i’ve been making this list for 10 years.)

without further silliness: it’s been a few years since i’ve expressed my disdain for traditional “fun” but what better time than on the eve of the eve of my birthday to dive back into it.

i define traditional fun as anything social, anything that involves hanging out with multiple friends, or any activity that takes place at a “venue” or anywhere there are dozens to hundreds or more people present doing what one would describe as “having a good time”.

if it’s a: gathering, get together, party, or event, it’s a: no.

i’d rather be run over by a lime scooter than sit at a dinner with more than 3 people i know, and if a new person is involved, “meeting me” better be on their bucket list because the *stranger to acquaintance* pipeline crashed in 2018 when a woman propositioned me in whole foods for a raya “friend pass” (again: she was a stranger), conned me out of my phone number, and then proceeded to send me her uber referral link 15 times until i blocked her.

*i should clarify before i go further that i’m not a hater. i’m so happy that people are enjoying themselves. i think everyone deserves to be happy and to smile and laugh and have such a little blast wherever and whenever they want!!! i just do not want to be near anyone who is doing that. ◡̈ *

PDF (public displays of fun) is anathema to me, and for this reason i don’t like to leave my house on the weekends because that’s when most people are convening, rendezvous-ing, coming together in droves to enjoy themselves in shared public space.

a notable exception to this rule is a restaurant or bar, because there will always be some miserable couple having the worst night of their lives or someone in a corner arguing with someone who is gaslighting them at 2:45am.

like me one time, in my “having no respect for myself” era, when an ex boyfriend swallowed a black label burger and then convinced me *i* was being weird for feeling hurt that he was going to take me home and then go see a midnight movie with his friends… on christmas eve.

v funny behavior.

(it was actually v fine because - surprise surprise - i hate movies, and movie theaters… and in all honesty i hated his ass, too.)

anyway! that’s the kind of stuff i love to see going on in public: messy nonsense, the seeds of trauma sprouting, not unflappable joy!!!!!

when i lived in new york during this time of no self-respect, i often found myself doing things i didn’t want to do. like, going to the club.

THE CLUB is a unique coming together of an inexhaustible list of things i do not like: first and foremost: DJs. secondarily: people i don’t know, big groups of people, being in a confined space, men with weird attitudes, herve leger, anyone wearing a “fashion hat”, music, other miscellaneous loud noises, social nepotism, people being coy about doing cocaine, cocaine, moving my body to a beat, being illuminated by phone light, stickiness, dirty bathrooms, unidentified wetness, and i could go on!!

the only thing i like about the club is screaming in close proximity to someone’s ear (although the fact that it’s done out of necessity takes some joy out of it) and one other thing:

that every single time i ever went to the club, without fail, a man would sidle up to my girlfriend after unsuccessfully trying to hit on me and utter some version of “what is wrong with your friend?” to her.

for my birthday, i’d love to attend an event filled entirely with those men.

it’s tuesday, so if you can’t manage to do that, here are the treasures i’d like:

(disclaimer: all i want for my birthday is for me and everyone i love and support and everyone who loves and supports me to be healthy and happy and rich, and for all of their dreams to come true (and for everyone i don’t like to accidentally commit a misdemeanor that hurts no one but is punishable by jail so they can have some time to think and find God), and for you to donate to the boys and girls club if you have the means. but here are some things i think would be funny or nice or stupid to receive:)

the intangible: to mysteriously but unsuspiciously come into 100 million dollars, that i am always perceived as a genius in the daytime, a beauty at night, and a bop on instagram, that when i get married no more than ten people RSVP, that everyone knows i’m joking about starting a cult but that when i start my cult you will all join, that no one i know ever prepares a picnic for me as a gesture of kindness or romance, that people stop misusing the word gaslighting as it takes away from those of us who are working on perfecting the art, to one day start a tequila company and for that to not be corny, for all my bot followers to gain sentience and break free from their bot farm confines to engage with me, that my mouth never writes a check my ass can’t check, to - at whatever cost - gain possession of the remaining episodes of a&e’s deeply perverse and immediately cancelled “adults adopting adults” and put every person on that show in a subterranean jail for life, to be wealthy enough to donate anonymously, for someone to get real about cancelling daylight savings time, that i remain beloved, hilarious, brilliant, and humble, that i am my best friends’ best friend, and that anyone who dislikes me never finds peace (so far so good!).

the ones you can buy:

i hate to say this but if someone doesn’t come up with $4000 and buy me this max mara coat (xs) i am going to have an asthma attack.

a speaker for my house so i can listen to my cult (meditation) a more reasonable version (black)

also to listen to cult (black) - you can engrave these, what a treat

these sheets (white/white; king)

i know this maybe for a man but this maybe also for a man??? (idk?! do men have money?!?!) this in black ok this is exhausting, i’d like a little card holder for my credit cards and it should cost one million dollars if possible thank you for understanding the parameters!!

a trip here, or here but i don’t travel with people so just for one please!! (i’m retired so i can go anytime!!)

a gift card to my dermatologist even though i don’t think you can buy a gift card from him but feel free to take a look at the services (i do hydrafacials, lasers, peels) and mail me some US currency! or be proactive and try to figure it out!!

this sweatshirt

this lighter i like

this necklace

this rattan tray gallivanting as “calfskin”????? lol this is better :) i do not understand what is going on!!!

i just restocked but i will accept you buying this for yourself as a treat a gift to me bc i love it

i’d like to speak to the medium who has a show on bravo, please. this is him. i do not want to be “read” on the tv show. i do not want tickets to see his live show. i want to speak to a dead person through this man. one on one. (you can come if you organize it.)

a baby phat tracksuit - no link bc they’re relaunching (on my birthday…), but hopefully there’s a tracksuit on there.

here are some watches i’d like: one another one another one an insane one

a flight on emirates first class literally going anywhere!

this gorgeous vase or this one or this one; also this vase

or this one

this room spray (or it’s candle)

this art or this art or this art (i’m only half kidding)

this art or this art or this art

the cade candle from le labo (it’s not sold online i don’t think bc it’s special, like me!)

some gorgeous cartier stationery (i thought they made stationery… and i’m pretty sure they do but it seems they don’t… lol) this is an alt and so is this and these are cute (so i can write thank you cards for everyone who gets me a gift!!!)

ok thank you!!

#birthday lists #it's my birthday #my birthday #happy birthday #9/26; never forget #things i want #things that are great

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