#sometimes I wonder if I need therapy or if I really am just crazy

[v0rewhxre]

Heyy could you write abt how Noah would be having a gf/partner with past trauma/ SA trauma and how he would help with that? No worries if not I get it’s triggering <3

Hello! I can write this, but this content may be triggering for folks to read! I am only writing this because I am someone who has personally gone through past trauma/SA trauma. I'll write this more as a head cannon.

I will not be going into full detail of types of trauma. I will be writing entirely from my experiences in my own personal relationships from the past or things I wished I had in relationships.

18+ MDNI

CW: [Mentions of past trauma and SA trauma, mentions of emotional distress due to past traumas, mentions of relationship strife due to past traumas, conversations may be distressing as well, mentions of sex and sexual relations]

This isn't in chronological order I'm sorry :)

This is also all I can write cause I do not/will not make up experiences I haven't had surrounding trauma/SA. These are very personalized things I needed in relationships/I have experienced in my relationships related to my trauma. This may not apply to you and/or your trauma

Noah is extremely supportive with your therapy and things you do for your mental wellness. He often buys you expensive journals and fancy pens to keep up with your journaling. He will drive you to therapy and wait for you (when he's home from touring). He will research ways to support you in his own time too, making sure that he approaches everything in a trauma-informed way.

The relationship moved very slowly. It took you a lot of time to trust Noah, you didn't even kiss until the 4th date! But that was ok! Noah was so in love with you the minute he met you, he moved at the pace you wanted and needed. He saw parts of himself in you, realizing that you had a lot of lived experience in life and that there was the good and the bad. He was just as patient with you as you were with him.

The first time you had a panic attack was really scary. You freaked out when Noah touched you in a way that caused you to have a flashback. At first Noah freaked out, unsure what to do, but then he slowly realized you were having a panic attack. He sat with you, holding your hand and taking deep breaths. He asked you what worked best for you in those moments, offering snacks and water if you needed. He just sat with you, which no one had every done. Just being there for you made you realize how in love you were with Noah.

Now Noah is a pro at panic attacks. He can sense them coming on, he has categorized all your triggers in his mind. He knows when they are about to happen, helping you remove yourself from situations when you can. Although, a few still surprise you both and he's there holding your hand. He places kisses on your forehead when you want, sometimes he even shares some of his meditation techniques he's learned for his own.

You don't always share what is going on, internalizing things deeply. This sometimes comes from a place of trust, other times because you don't want to burden him. It can be hard when you have so much going on internally, and Noah has so much going on externally.

When you shared what happened to you for the first time, it broke him. How could anyone hurt you the way those people did? He listened intently, only asking questions he deemed comfortable for you. He didn't want to ask anything too intense at first. Over time you did share the details he had wondered about, conscious that it was something you needed to share and not something he should ask. He listened to you and when it came time for him to share, he made sure you were also ready to receive his trauma story.

Noah also has significant trauma. And sometimes he has the same reactions or the same issue you do in the relationship. This can lead to a lot of fights or contention, but at the end of the day you both try to understand each other.

Noah tries to fix you sometimes and it drives you crazy! He comes from a good place, only wanting you to be ok, but it's not always helpful. You have to explain to him that sometimes he just needs to listen and be there rather than trying to fix everything.

You have an extremely hard time trusting Noah because of your experiences with your ex-boyfriend. This has led to you constantly asking if he's cheating on you, where he was Friday night, why his texts came in late. You were weary when his moods were off and often times you were stubborn in believing him, even when he was telling the truth.

The first time you had sex was hard. Being so vulnerable with someone after being violated was hard. Being able to trust him enough to be naked, alone in a room was really intense emotionally. It took a few times to fully have sex with each other. Noah never made you feel bad about anything, he took things slowly. He always looked in your eyes to make sure something was ok, he didn't overtly ask because he didn't want to put you on spot either. The experience was very emotional for you, but also very liberating. You were taking your body back, you felt sexy and beautiful for the first time in a long time. You cried in Noah's arms after sex, Noah rubbing small circles over your lower back.

When he doesn't want to have sex, you take it extremely personally and have a hard time believing that he still loves you. Sometimes when he's extremely horny, you take that personally as well. Thinking he only wants you for sex.

*************************************************

#noah sebastian #asks #bad omens #this is a very intense topic #noah sebastian x reader

[the-joy-of-knowledge]

Writing Therapy

This is will be a guide for you to overcome anxieties, be more courageous, and optimistic. Writing is one of the beautiful ways to express our emotions and have a conversation with ourselves.

Write it down

Take a blank sheet of paper and write down how you feel now. This is not an essay, you should not be concerned about the words. Your thoughts should flow and all you need to do is write out out as it comes out. This can happen at any moment, don’t set a time or a schedule for it.

Weekly letters

Write a letter to yourself every week. I do this and it helps me a lot. Every week I reflect on the previous week and my expectations for the next week. I write my highlights and my low moments and it is such a beautiful emotion to capture. After a while, you will open these letters and reflect on how things changed or lessons you’ve learned.

Confront your inner child/ past

Use writing to confront your inner child. You will have to write like a kindergarten. Don’t overthink it, don’t make it perfect, add some drawings. Sometimes I draw a trash can and write everything habit I needs to get rid off in it. Try to recollect memories of things you were once bad at or good at. Writing isn’t just about following prompts sometimes you’d have to write about something related to you, that only you have experienced. For example:

I remember when I first got my braces, I looked awkward, it’s amazing how much my looks have changed…

I remember when I was 10 and this golden retriever chased me…

My mom didn’t let me go to sleep overs when I was 8, I wonder what it would have felt like…

I first experience bulling in 8th grade, Jessica was really a mean girl, I wonder if bullies eventually change…

I used to be the most popular girl in high school, but in college I feel so overlooked. It’s crazy how things change.

I don’t like how I look in pictures now, I don’t know if it’s just my eyes,

I used to like baking, why did I stop, when did I stop?…

I was mean to the pizza guy, I feel so bad, it was wrong timing, is it possible for the universe to send apologizes on our behalves?…

Be in the present

Being in the present means acknowledging your feelings, processing your emotions as they occur, expressing yourself, being your own cheer leader, and support system.

What was the highlight of my day?

What would I have changed?

What did I procrastinate on?

What am I looking forward to?

What am I grateful for?

Am I better than I was yesterday?

What did I learn today?

Why was I sad/happy?

An optimistic approach

Writing in an optimistic tone will keep you motivated. It will give you the hope you need. You are looking forward to an event, a proposal, an opportunity, or a moment. Optimism gives you enthusiasm to chase your dreams. Examples of writing with optimism includes.

I am looking forward to a great week because…

I can’t wait for Christmas, there’s just so much to celebrate…

I see myself being a successful women even though I’m not sure of my passion…

In the next five years, I want to travel to every state in America.

It only gets better…

Oh, I can’t wait for fall and all the peace it brings…

I’ll be 24 soon, there’s so much to reflect on…

Confronting the elephant in the room

This will be the difficult part of the writing because you will have to be honest with yourself, it’s tough love here, and you’ll have to hold yourself accountable. Here are prompts that can help:

Are you sure you want to accomplish your goals?

Why do you want a change in your life, if you are not willing to improve?

When was the last time to made a to-do list and followed through?

Have you read a book since the last month?

What is your excuse for not doing your self-care routine?

Do you trust yourself?

What have you started but you’re yet to complete?

I’d love to start a writing therapy class, it will be so interesting :)

With love,

Black Pearl

#self improvement #self love #ivy league #discipline #preppy #mindfulness #oldmoney #growth #education #self development #mind control #self care #mindset #emotional intelligence #self help #reading #long reads #therapy #writblr #writing #positive affirmations

[please-picturemeintheweeds]

I spent 40 minutes in therapy today talking about the role of narrative and self creation in Taylor’s interview, and how she acts in her life as the main character- she steps into her power. Which is of course a story I was telling about myself, too. And I’ve been thinking a lot about symbolism and fairy tales, and I just… love that Taylor is embracing her symbolic role as the people’s pop princess. I appreciate the scale of her cultural contributions, including introducing an entire generation of young women to a new vision of ourselves as subjects rather than objects in music (and yes, for many of us, our first taste of “modern” feminism that felt a whole lot better than the version my mom’s generation ascribes to which feels more like “you don’t need any help because you are independent”. By putting it so simply in 2014 during the cultural wave of legalizing queer marriage, Taylor made being a feminist cool. She gave me the basic language to seek out and begin exploring intersectional feminism on my own as a bright eyed 17 year old girl).

I think the part that bothers me most about the reductionist discourse - is she “good” or “bad”- is that it conflates Taylor’s real life with her symbolic place in pop culture. The discourse about her every move distills a full complete human woman down to her reputation as either the evil queen/witch/capitalist, or the slut, or the wife, or the crazy ex. And then, once the role is chosen, she mirrors how “good” the person discussing her imagines themself to be. I’d personally rather view her as the hero because that’s the kind of agency I am trying to empower myself with.

The confusing part is that lots of people have really wonderful sharp critiques of what Taylor’s real life symbolizes about our world, but those messages come out as personal attacks on a real human being, often by belittling her intelligence, accomplishments, impact, and character- as if none of us have ever been friends with a shitty person, or been a shitty person ourselves (sometimes even repeatedly). For example, I am fascinated by the white feminism phenomenon that emerged during the 1989 era, and by the monetizing of self care, the rise of influencer culture, and how it reflects on the political landscape over the last 10 years, and how my development from girl to woman was impacted by all of it- none of that discussion requires a decision on if Taylor herself is good or bad. We can’t keep reducing each other, including celebrities, down to binaries of “good” or “bad.” If we can’t even humanize the one stranger we all know intimately, what does that say about our capacity to grow from our own mistakes? To help each other grow?

One of the core things that builds people’s movements is working toward shared goals even if you disagree on some things- I’d rather have Taylor Swift as the symbolic person of the year, speaking about getting in touch with her emotions and rising from trauma stronger than before, working hard for her goals, being proud of her accomplishments, and loudly celebrating women, than another war criminal politician 🤷🏼‍♀️. There’s so much juicy stuff to digest from her crowning as Person Of The Year (including critiques of capitalism and white feminism!) and it just sucks that people are stuck on “is she good or bad,”preventing them from actually engaging with the interview as an enormous pop culture moment. And during the biggest labor movement in history! She’s up there talking about a patriarchal industry exploiting her and other musicians! She’s talking about recovering from an eating disorder and loving her past selves! She’s talking about staying true to herself even when the entire world is watching her every move. It is important, regardless of if she meets everybody’s personal standards of “good” or “bad.” Nobody is required to like her! We can all have different boundaries for different relationships- I might not be friends with Taylor swift in real life, but I have no problem appreciating her art and listening to her unique perspective. The haters are missing the point- she symbolizes unity, joy, fun, love, healing, family, trying to be better, forgiveness and women’s empowerment. She also symbolizes nuance and disagreement. She symbolizes gossip and cyber bullying and cancel culture. She symbolizes coming of age in a traumatizing world. She symbolizes perseverance and the value of owning your own work. She means something different to everyone because she is a mirrorball. What does she symbolize to you?

#C #using Taylor to talk about politics again #Just have been sleeping in transformative justice and abolitionist activism recently and I feel so free talking about Taylor in real life #But then I come on here and everyone’s always arguing about if she’s a good person today or not #person of the year

[nakedmonkey]

Every time I look at your writing prompts list I get lost in Patty x Allison daydreams. With their soft moments & banter, I can hear almost all the prompts in character, one way or another. The way you write them too, ugh its just SO good! The one I am obSESSed with, though, is 108 "is that my shirt?" because Allison would totally wear one of Patty's flannels as a nightshirt and there's something special about seeing your sweetheart in your clothes. Bonus points if you combine it with 14 and 1.

Hi :) Thank you so much, Anon, this was tons of fun to write. (it's only xmas themed because I started it before xmas and I got like 80% done before tumblr crashed and I lost the whole thing, and I was just too frustrated to get back to it until now, so I hope you like it) Under the cut for some Content.

is that my shirt///you heard me. Take. it. off///come over here and make me//

So, they live together now. It’s a thing that’s happening, and no Patty would not like to examine it too closely, lest she ruin it by doing or saying something stupid. But still. Sometimes, it hits her. That they live together. That they’re…a couple or whatever.

Patty often feels like she’s navigating this relationship thing too stiffly. She’s not made for massages from strangers, and she’s not made for this, but she’s working on it. It’s been easier in past relationships, she thinks, because she was good at faking it. The feelings part. If she’s being honest, it terrifies her to say it out loud. To say It out loud. Even though she feels things so intensely around Allison that, more often than not, the words want to claw their way out of her body like a cat trapped in a box or something.

It’s safe now. Patty knows it’s safe for them to just be. For the most part, they are doing just fine. But she’s still getting used to it. The way her heart races when Allison enters a room suddenly and it hits her. Like, oh, yeah. They’re here now. Allison’s here now. Everything is okay. 

Sure, Allison is still Allison, and therefore always thinking of some way to raise Patty’s blood pressure with some crazy idea, but Patty doesn’t have to question either of their feelings or intentions like she did once upon a time. She has to keep reminding herself of this. She should really go to therapy, but who has the time? Patty feels like a newly adopted shelter dog that is comfortable and happy, but still, sometimes, cautious. She can’t help but be on guard. After a lifetime of it being necessary to survive, she has to remind herself that the walls she built around herself for protection aren’t needed anymore. Luckily for her, Allison is more than willing to chip away at them when Patty can’t work up the nerve to. 

It’s how she finds herself engulfed in Christmas decorations. It’s Christmas Day and Patty’s sitting in her home, looking around, wondering how Allison managed to get all this crap in here without Patty fighting her on it once. She’s like a ninja sometimes. It’s wall to wall Christmas, and there are piles upon piles of gifts under the giant tree Patty helped Allison haul in the day after Thanksgiving.

Looking around the kitchen and living room, while sitting at the table, Patty listens for the sounds of Allison moving around in the bedroom, having finally woken up, and says, loud enough for Allison to hear, “It looks like Christmas threw up in here.”

“Good!” Allison replies, her voice muffled before she enters the kitchen in one of Patty’s flannels and a pair of Christmas themed socks. “That was the point.” 

Allison leans over the table and kisses Patty chastely on the lips, offers a quick, “Mornin’” and beelines for the coffeemaker. 

Patty can’t seem to look anywhere else but wherever Allison moves to next; up on her tippy-toes for a mug from the top shelf, then back over to the coffee pot, where she pours herself some and sips it before moving toward the fridge. 

“Is that my shirt?” Patty manages to ask eventually. Her mouth is suddenly dry. Why is her mouth so dry? 

“Huh?” Allison shuts the fridge, carton of milk in her hand as she looks down at herself and then smiles up at Patty. “Oh. Yeah! I like to wear your shirts sometimes after you wear them ‘cause they smell like you.” 

She says this so casually. So matter of fact. It makes Patty’s head spin. They really are here together now. It’s always a shock. 

“Take it off.” 

Allison snorts and looks up, having poured enough milk into her coffee. 

“What?” 

Patty licks her lips subconsciously, her eyes trailing down Allison’s bare legs, then back up to meet her eyes. She rakes in a breath and repeats herself, “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” 

Allison gapes at Patty as the message lands, and Patty doesn't miss the way Allison leans back against the counter as if she can’t help it, the way her knees press together. How she inhales deliberately before replying, “Come over here and make me.” 

They haven’t done this. The sex-in-the-kitchen thing. But Patty is realizing that some things don’t have to be thought about and processed to death before they happen. They can just…happen. She can just kiss Allison, and kiss her some more, until they’re both so worked up she eventually forgets to think about anything at all. She can slide a hand between Allison’s legs and let the sound of her gasping her name blur all the uncertainty out of her mind.

This helps, Patty realizes, when Allison slides a hand up the back of her neck to grab a fistful of dark hair as she keens against Patty’s mouth and angles her hips. 

When Patty’s fingers curl upward the way Allison likes, Allison’s grip on Patty’s hair loosens until her hand eventually finds its way to Patty’s left breast. She palms it, finds her nipple through the thin fabric of her t-shirt and rolls it between her thumb and index finger, and Patty presses her harder against the edge of the counter, and now, Patty’s mind is absolutely, blissfully empty. She pulls back, breaking their kiss so she can watch Allison’s brow furrow, so she can see how she bites her lip and breathes a little harder, how her eyes get hazy the closer she gets. 

“I love you,” Patty says. And it doesn’t make her crazy. It doesn’t make her want to die with embarrassment, it doesn’t leave her feeling raw and exposed. It feels…right. 

“You do?” Allison pants. 

“Yeah,” Patty tells her, doesn’t give her a chance to say it back because it’s more fun to that thing with her thumb, and then Allison is coming, cursing through gritted teeth as she does so, and then she’s pulling Patty in for a kiss that borders on sloppy, and Patty loves that.

Patty loves when Allison nuzzles her cheek and hugs her after, how she kisses Patty’s neck as she catches her breath and softly says, “I love you, too,” before trailing her lips along Patty’s jawline before eventually finding her lips again. 

It’ll return. The fear, and doubt. Patty knows there’s no easy solution to that particular problem, but as Allison walks her back toward the bedroom and they knock over some ridiculous dancing snowman, Patty doesn’t really care because she has someone now, someone who turns her into a person who doesn’t mind living in the middle of what very closely resembles a Christmas display window. 

#kcfh #fanfiction #patty x allison #random prompts #fic prompts #patty x allison fic

[tssidesfics]

Credit to @wisecolorthing for helping me come up with this nightmare crack fic. I can't entirely remember how we started talking about it but the conversation wandered to Remus in a Spencer's and this was born. It is pure crack. Completely ludicrous and ridiculous while also being completely in-character because we're talking about Remus, here.

*

God should have skipped the flood and just unleashed Remus on the world a few thousand years early.

Then again, humanity might never have recovered at that point, so what do I know?

Welcome to my little circle of hell, everybody. Yes, you are all correct that my relationship with the others can be best surmised with the "this house is a fucking nightmare" vine, but you don't get any points for it because it's not hard to figure out. I subsist off coffee, spite, and sarcasm (but differently from Janus, who subsists off wine, spite, and sarcasm) and exist solely to, in Remus' words, "vibrate like an overripe chihuahua on meth and five espressos with a dildo turned on up its ass"--AKA I am an anxious mess when I'm not spiraling ever-deeper into the bowels of worst-case scenario-ism. I live in a very weird gay man's head with my roommates, some of which (Logan) feign sanity 80% of the time and the other 20% conduct deranged experiments on furniture, food, and sometimes people like he's the last mad scientist left and has to preserve his culture. Some of them are actually (mostly) sane, like Patton (although we have to affectionately--and in Rage's case, literally, but they have a complicated relationship--beat on him to make him start crying when he needs to, so all things are relative). Some are just plain weird, like Roman (seriously, he's not even a type of crazy I can qualify, he's just unhinged). Some delight in feigned psychopathy (Janus). Some really need anger management therapy (do I seriously need to clarify?...actually, yeah, Logan could use some too). And some, AKA the problem child of this fever dream, defy description, but a DSM-5 edition bursts into flames every time they get a very specific little lopsided smile on their face--the one that slowly dawns like panels of light until it's blinding and suddenly nauseating to look at. That feeling is always proceeded by destruction of property. Always.

And of course Janus and Rage are gleeful enablers. Is it any wonder why I yeeted myself off the first exit ramp out of that 24/7 Mardi Gras festival?

In case it was not made shockingly apparent by literally everything about me, hi, I'm Virgil. Kill me.

My Nightmare #347 began with Patton yanking himself out of Thomas' head into the passenger side car-seat with a giddy smile on his face. "Hi, Thomas!"

Thomas screamed and jumped so hard he swerved. I neglected to appear to him physically--given I didn't want to make matters worse--but I did start fluently cussing and climbed the wall.

"Patton!" Thomas righted to the car as a cacophony of honks chastised him. "Hi, buddy. Next time, not in the middle of traffic!"

"Oop. Sorry, Thomas." At least Patton was appropriately contrite. I didn't often consider him an asshole--"cinnamon roll" is so apt he literally turns into a cinnamon roll sometimes--but today, I could make an exception. "I was wondering if we could all hang out with you at the mall today."

"Pat, it's hard enough with you guys providing running commentary on my every social interaction in my head," Thomas pointed out. "I'd like to just enjoy seeing Joan again while they're in town and I will have to corral at least five of you if I let you out."

"But Thomas..." Patton whined, bouncing frustratingly in his seat. "The Mindscape is boring!"

"You can bake an endless amount of cookies and turn it into whatever you want. I literally don't see how it could ever become boring."

"Logan won't let us change it from your living room."

Thomas sighed. "What are the chances I can convince Logan to lighten up a little?"

I snorted so loud Thomas heard it.

"Thank you for your contribution, Virgil." Thomas rolled his eyes. "If I let the rest of them out, do you promise you won't let them get into any trouble?"

I squawked. "You're expecting Patton to control the others? Are you insane? Patton couldn't control a drowsy teddy bear!"

Patton popped back into the Mindscape to turn hurt eyes on me. I crossed my arms. "No," I said. "I stand by what I said. Your backbone is made of silly putty."

"All right, Virgil," Thomas interjected before Patton could crank up the Guilt Trip'O'Meter as high as it would go. "You raise a good point. Why don't I leave you in charge?"

"I would rather crawl into a hot and rot, thanks."

"C'mon, I can feel how stir-crazy you're all getting. It's making me more antsy than usual."

"I don't see why that's a problem, considering you have never sat still anywhere a single day in your life. Someone could hold Joan over a barrel of piranha telling you they'd drop them if you couldn't sit still for an entire five minutes and it would be all your fault that Joan died."

Too late, I realized my mistake. Remus cackled loudly and sank out somewhere I didn't want to know but had to follow lest he murder the literal only reason Thomas had ever gotten me remotely under control.

"Why would you do that?" Thomas asked dully.

"You see why it's a bad idea to expect me to control these lunatics?"

Logan sighed, adjusting his glasses and snapping his folder closed. God knew what went on in those things; we only got independent internet access when we manifested and he certainly couldn't raid a bookstore without manifesting, yet he always had one in his lap, diligently working. It was morbidly fascinated. "Honestly," he grumbled. "Thomas, I believe that yes, your mental health would benefit from letting us manifest as a group. I can control the others."

"Logan," I began. "Buddy. Pal. My guy."

"Call me three of those ever again and there will be scalpels plunged into locations you do not want to think about."

"You cannot control them," I told him. "History has demonstrated multiple times that the only person who can control us is Thomas, and he's going to be busy catching up. He's going to let go of Remus' leash. Do you really--and I mean think about this--do you really think the time you want Remus off Thomas' leash is in a mall?"

"Fine. Then we'll leave him behind. At least venting some of--"

"He'll just start shooting off intrusive thoughts like a machine gun. You let more than one out, you open the floodgates."

"You're being paranoid."

"Funny that. I can't imagine why I'd be paranoid. Sounds completely unlike me, I'm normally so laid-back."

"The sarcasm was unnecessary."

"You're finally learning when I'm sarcastic." I was impressed. "Nice, Lo. I was getting worried."

Logan clicked his pen menacingly.

I grinned. Logan was easily one of my greatest allies in the Mindscape--Roman was insufferable, Janus, Remus and Rage were out of the question, and Patton could be obnoxiously patronizing--but never let his capacity for violence be underestimated. I once saw him take Roman's katana to a bundle of sticky notes because one of them gave him a paper cut. Despite that capacity for violence, however, I delighted in pushing his buttons.

"Are we manifesting today?" Roman called down the stairs with barely-restrained delight.

"Unless you can guarantee Remus won't set the mall on fire, hell no!" I called back up.

There was a long moment of silence. "Remus, I'll let you have Mrs. Snuffykins for one night if you behave yourself if we manifest!"

I had absolutely no idea what that was--I wanted to think a stuffed animal, but with Roman and Remus, all bets were off--but Remus' ecstatic screech was enough to tell me I probably didn't want to find out.

Roman looked back down at me. "He'll behave."

I arched an eyebrow.

"Prince's honor."

"Historically meant shit, Princey."

"Yes, but not Disneyally."

"That is not...remotely a word," Logan said, somehow a mix between dumbfounded and awed.

"Look, I'm just not optimistic that letting Remus out when Thomas isn't keeping an eye on him would end in anything except Thomas going to prison for arson, murder, or public indecency. Or worse."

"I'll keep him in line," Roman vowed. "Please, Virgil? I'm going stir-crazy in here, we all are."

I crossed my arms.

Roman pouted.

I snorted.

Roman glared.

I arched an eyebrow.

Roman slumped.

I grinned. "Deal with it, everybody. No manifesting. Get comfy. Janus, think about pushing your luck and I am ripping out each individual one of your scales and burying them in places you don't want."

"How delightfully Remus of you. Except for the part where you'll actually follow through on the threat."

"From Remus it wouldn't be a threat, it would be a bonding activity."

"Speaking of," Patton said shyly. "Didn't Remus run off after you said something about Joan getting hurt, kiddo?"

My eyes bugged out of my head. I sighed and hung it. "Why is it always me?" I mumbled and sunk out to chase Remus through the Mindscape.

~*~

After fishing out Remus' limbs from a pond of piranha he'd dismembered himself into when he heard me chasing after him, I borrowed some super glue from Roman's room and stuck him back together. It should have fixed him up good as new but it was Remus and any attempts I made to change things around here were easily superseded by one half of Creativity. Which meant Remus was now walking around with his penis glued to his forehead, fully erect.

Not as much time had passed by the time we returned as I expected. Which would have been great if not for the fact that the Conscious Mind was conspicuously quiet. All the dishes were clean, there wasn't any crap on the floor, and there were no Sides milling about. I could have taken the time to check each of their rooms upstairs but why waste the time when I knew exactly where they all were?

"Roman, you are in your thirties. A store called Forever 21 is not for you," Logan was saying after I manifested in the general direction of the others. "Hello, Virgil."

I glared. "What did I say?"

"Aw, but Virge--"

"You're inviting a Remustrophe right now, you realize that, right?"

Janus grinned. My blood ran cold.

"I WANT EVERY DILDO YOU HAVE!" echoed across the mall, and with horror, I realized what I'd done.

I'd loosed Remus Sanders on the Spencer's department store.

~*~

The good news: nothing had caught fire yet. Potential loss of life was yet to be determined as Patton yelped and rushed over to the prone body of the clerk behind the counter. That also proved fine when I saw him slump in relief after probing her neck for a pulse.

The bad news: Remus had slipped the superglue I'd used to piece him back together out of my pocket and was now using it to attach dildos, ripped out of their packages with plastic and cardboard shredded across the floor, to his costume. He was also dripping with something viscous, disincentivizing me from touching him to stop him from unleashing more chaos.

By rights, seven dildos glued to his top should have torn the damn thing, but it was made of sturdier stuff than that. I studied him for a long moment, trying to work up the nerve to approach, while he just continued to wreak havoc. Janus, meanwhile, the only one not preoccupied with horror or despair at Remus' antics, meandered over to the bowl in which they kept their sarcastic pins, perusing them idly.

"You better be planning to pay for those," I warned, then looked around. "Wait. Where's Rage?"

Logan glanced around. "Likely inflicting property damage on a jewelry store. He rather dislikes those."

I pinched my sinuses. "Logan, could you rein in your alter ego, please?"

"I am too evolved for my alter ego to be that idiot," Logan told me with overblown indignity.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, you're the only one who can talk some sense into him. The cameras may not be able to recognize Thomas' face on all of us, but the less reason the cops have to potentially stuff him in a cell, the better."

It was true. Somehow, whatever bizarre magic allowed us to manifest in the real world also confused cameras and people so no one could trace the destruction of property likely to follow us back to Thomas. It was the only reason I wasn't already in the fetal position on the floor forgetting the basic components of breathing.

Logan rolled his eyes and broke off to track down Rage. I turned my attention to Roman.

"No," Roman said firmly.

"He's your brother," I told him.

"Yes, and it's your fault he's here. You were supposed to watch him."

"I wouldn't have had to take my eyes off him if you guys hadn't snuck out in the first place. I'm one Side. Do you really think I would have stood a snowball's chance in hell of keeping Remus from doing exactly this?"

"And I have any better chance?"

"No, but the alternative is explaining to Thomas what you guys did."

Roman glared at me.

I glared back.

Roman pouted.

I continued glaring.

Roman stomped his foot and whined.

I pointed at Remus, who was now smashing glasses on the ground and eating the shards. Blood was rushing from his mouth and gathering in puddles on the floor. He was still dripping.

"I hate you," Roman informed me bluntly.

"Oh, like you've ever made a secret of that?"

Roman adopted a punched puppy expression at that one.

I sighed. "Yeah, yeah, you've been doing better, now go wrestle your brother into a cage or something."

Roman dragged his feet over to Remus and summoned a hasmat suit he put on. Remus sliced into it with a rather sizable shard and sprinted away before Roman could catch him. Without thinking, I lunged after him, only succeeding in sliding down the length of his body like he was covered in lube.

Oh, wait, it was lube. It smelled like one of Remus' worst farts and tasted like it too. You would have thought the dildos would have either failed to stick with his clothes soaked in lubricant or at least they would have given me something to hang onto to stop him from escaping, but all they did was slap me repeatedly in the face with silicon penes of various sizes.

Remus left a slimy trail behind him as he cackled deeper into the store. I was positive he was headed somewhere with matches so he could set the building on fire.

I pressed my face into the floor, into a puddle of lube, and sighed. Miserably, I hauled myself to my feet and turned back to everyone else. "You are in so much trouble," I assured them without passion, dragging myself off to find Thomas and get him to suck Remus back into the Mindscape before additional damage could be done.

I found him in the food court, blissfully unaware of the chaos unfolding deeper into the store. Altogether the world seemed relatively unaware of the happenings, another magical defense mechanism. It wasn't that people never noticed what we were doing, it was just that they were less likely to find it alarming. Although once the fire alarms started going off, people would pay attention.

"Thomas," I greeted without etiquette, coming to pause next to his table.

"Holy shit," Joan summarized perfectly. People aware of our nonsense were usually pretty good at spotting us and processing our appearances.

Thomas looked dejected. "No."

"Remus escaped."

Thomas flopped forward like a fish on land and smacked his head full into the table. The pain reverberated through my skull. "Time to--"

The fire alarm blared. Rage ran past with a shotgun, screaming, "Adios, coppers!" as he went.

Thomas watched him run past. "We don't have to stop him, do we?"

I considered it for a moment. "Nah, he can stay. As long as everyone goes back in, we should be able to keep Remus there."

People ran past screaming. A panicked exodus spilled from the food court. Some people knocked into me and I stumbled. Thomas caught my hoodie sleeve, then gagged and pulled his hand back.

"Remus," I explained.

"Right." Thomas looked in the direction everyone was running from. "I guess I have to go toward the fire to stop him, huh?"

I nodded sadly.

"Sorry, Joan," Thomas explained. "Next time, my place."

"Deal. Want some help?"

"You don't need to see what I'm about to see."

With that, Thomas and I made our begrudging way toward the fire.

~*~

It resolved relatively easily once Thomas gave Remus a disapproving stare. We all didn't do well with Thomas' disappointment, even Remus, so he moped back inside the Mindscape without much complaint. Everyone else returned to the living room in my doghouse and I locked myself in my room, refusing to emerge. Rage stayed out for a while longer and later we found out three police stations had been set on fire with all prisoners escaped. No loss of life, which I didn't know how to feel about.

Later, through mystical means, the stolen dildos Remus had taken were discovered in Ron DeSantis' home. We laughed for a week.

I amend my earlier statement. Maybe we really do need to use Remus as the next great flood. He'll just focus his attention on the fascists and we'll all be better off.

Yo, God, you should get on that.

#sanders sides fic #character thomas sanders #virgil sanders #virgil pov #first person pov #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #rage sanders #anarchist sides #rage blows up police stations #and remus frames george santos for petty theft #antifascist #acab #crack taken seriously #funny talk of god and biblical stories

[ngce]

I'm dying.

You're dying.

41% of men will get cancer sometime in their life. Given that our environment is more toxic than ever and only trending that way, let's just call it an even 50%. Mix that in with car accidents and all of the random tragic happenings of life, it's safe to say that our days are numbered.

I've been trying to take care of my health. Eating organic foods. Losing weight. Staying away from EMF. Heavy metal detox. Taking countless supplements. Acupuncture. Air purifiers. Going to physical therapy. Using a vibration plate. Hahahah it's insane

All for what?

Sure, taking care of your health matters. Live longer and have a higher quality for what? There are so many days I just waste. I am done with trying to earn God's love by my works. My good works are nothing but filthy rags. I know all of my hope can only rest in JESUS CHRIST but I want to make the most of my time. I want to honor God for the rest of my days. I am such a lazy ambitious person. There is so much TALK and not much walking in my life.

I think many of us want to live a long life. Isn't it less about the age we get to but what we do with the time we do have? I know this is a recurring thought for many people, especially for me. What terrifies me is how often I find how little my life has changed after meditating on this truth. It sounds crazy but some days I wonder if my life would be better with cancer. If it would allow me to really live my life to the fullest. I obviously do not want cancer and am doing everything I can to stay healthy but.... what if knowing I had cancer today with 3 years left to live would give me the "AHA" moment that I need to really live each day purposefully for God's kingdom instead of at this lazy pace and getting killed in a car accident two years from now?

The obvious answer is to live a focused life PERIOD. That's always the move. God, please change me. Stamp eternity on my eyeballs. Don't allow me to compromise your mission. Help me stay focused and locked in on serving you. Make me into a servant. I am done being the main character. Help me to pour myself out into others so that they'll become successful. I want to be last. Help me to love others. God, please continue to transform me. Help me to love others sacrificially. Jesus, you are the only hope I have. I am lost without You. May I be a sign that points others to You. God, make me small.

#christianity #christian #gospel

[izbelross]

THE SIGHTER

I'm nervous, this here is a, well is something I have been working on and very afraid to post.

It's my first time writing a ff and actually posting it. And what better starting than a Moonknight fanfic. Relying on my actual hyper-fixation. This is planned to be short and starting with Moonknight series so... be careful if you haven't watched it.

I really like writing, is a personal therapy of mine and after almost a year of learning about my fears I decided to front one... posting.

I would actually love to read what this made you think or feel or... just anything, it would be lovely.

English is not my first language, if I have typos, am sorry, tried to make reader gender neutral, if I missed again, I apologise :D

Words: 3.9 K –I really love writing jejeje–

Pairings: Steven Grant x GN!reader, Marc Spector x GN!reader, Jake Lockley x GN!reader, Arthur Harrow x Platonic!GN!reader, Khonshu x Platonic!GN!reader

Warnings: Spoilers for Moonknight series, angst, mention to mental illness, drama idk, some sparkle of fluff, mentions of death. Khonshu being my little shit of a pigeon.

You have always wondered if you weren't just some crazy ass. If your life wasn't really just an entire hallucination of what was supposed to be a normal person. You had family that loved you but never really understood the way you will look to an specific area because "Mommy, there is a creepy looking dog over there" or "Yesterday a flying snake told me that I'll have a pigeon" or that one that made them definitely scared "Ma fren said that when I die I'll be like him".

You had a very different way of seeing life. It wasn't the usual bland experience but a majestic and incredible surprise. You used to talk to your grandma, even when she had already passed, and she told you to not tell your parents, for they weren't very knowing of this kind of stuff. All your childhood you were surrounded with the colours of peoples feelings in the tip of your tongue. You bonded with animals that often than not had to be kept in the garden meanwhile your parents wondered why they were so attracted to this area. It was as if life was a rainbow which you could experience all on your own with the guidance of your deceased grandma.

But not everything was good. There were shadows as well, shadows that clouded your nights taking away the joy of the day and making you scream until the birds sleeping on the edge of your window started to fly around your house and the wolfs in the distance cried along side you.

Night terrors was what the doctors told your parents. And it was "common" in children. The problem started when you where no longer a child. Every night you had to endure the visits of ghostly shadows without faces that grabbed your arms leaving you thrashing against them with bruises covering your skin in the mornings.

Which brought another problem. Your parents believed that you were hurting yourself. Hallucinating, paranoid. They medicated you, which left you tired and sleepy all the time. They gave you pills after pills, each one with a higher rank until you had to pretend that you couldn't see them anymore, that you couldn't hear them. Only then would they stop giving you such strong pills that left you in a trance of numbness and heart hammering.

You didn't have many friends for those years. Many of them believed you were a freak and the ones that really wanted to hangout with you were never the kind of friendship that last a lifetime. As with your parents...

You preferred to relay in yourself and the counsel of your grandma.

She taught you about the mysticism of people like you both. The Sighters. You had an astral bond with the universe. And even if they didn't seem like magnificent powers like the ones that could cause destruction, it allowed you to help those who needed it. Like the lost souls that sometimes would roam the streets searching for closure from this world. Or for people that had ghosts lurking their backs, trying to have free access to this realm of the living but weren't allowed anymore.

It was all good until your grandmother had to pass to the "Other side" as well. You were wrenched between being selfish by keeping the only one that understood who exactly you were and giving her the peace you knew she deserved. The latter choice was the one that attracted the sight of certain someone to your life.

When you met Arthur Harrow, things in your life were complicated.

You were tired of having to pretend be someone else. After all, you were a Sighter and your power was consuming you every time a denial came out of your mouth for fear of what your friends would think of you, what your parents would make you take this time or how many days will you spend in a hospital now?

You had just escaped your home with nothing more but the hope of finding a new place you could live and be at peace. The bag at your back had only the essentials, money you kept, ID, few coupons for fast food and two sets of clothing.

Totally a mistake of you for having got out at night, the streets as lonely as they could be only echoed your footsteps and even with the narrow light of the lamp posts the dread of being alone started to climb deep in your bones. The heavy clouds announced the coming of rain and stoped the moon light to seep to the street.

When people was behind you their auras used to approach you, hugging your own and acknowledging each other for what you were. Humans. It was a weird sensation that helped you ground yourself on moments of panic, to remind you that after all, you were normal, in a sense, just with a little extra in you.

But these sensation, the coldness and unnatural stillness of it reaching out to you and claim you against your will was the peak of every nightmare.

And it reached out with those anti-natural fingers pressing tight against your leg until it bled. Your scream was agonising and it flew among the shadows of night until it reached Harrow –clothed in his avatar armour– and even Khonshu stoped bickering when the full force of your soul searching refuge reached his undying one.

"ARTHUR, REACH TO THEM. NOW!" He didn't understand the deep uncomfortable feeling that overcame him, memories flooding his mind of old times when priest, priestess searched for his aid and as only payment: unconditional devotion.

When the Ennead stoped caring, the humans were left alone asking them selfs and each other "Where were our gods? Why haven't they answered? Why have they left us?" He can still remember how his devoted were hunted and punished for praying, for waiting for them. For him.

And seeing a Sighter, seeing you without protection, without a guide.

NO

With full speed his avatar jumped over the buildings until your silhouette came into view. The god could not hide the terror on his skin, for there was you, a Sighter, one of the rare who were born under the protection of a god. And your soul was being ripped away by a shadow clad in animal skin. "HURRY!"

You were fighting with all your will to suppress the darkness trying to creep into your eye sockets, your mouth, your nose. The power of fear overcame you and you begged for anyone, anything to help you.

You prayed to anyone who shall listen for help.

And then it happened. No one came to aid: no person, no spirit, no god.

Your power was ripped and your soul split in half.

You realised two things then and there. One, your grandma was right, the power you had was unaltered, raw, savage. It could flow without limit and burn everything on his way. Two, it could drain you to the point of dead.

Golden light enveloped you and the darkness gripping you was not fighting anymore to eat from you but to get away. His touch was cold but you were a constant fountain of warmth.

You carbonised the cutting ice clawing at you from the inside, your screams weren't of terror now but of fury and the air around you burned even when Harrow tried to coax you to stop.

Khonshu marvelled at the sight. As a god of the moon, coldness was his, it enveloped him, nurtured him. And he found himself craving the blinding warmth that for a few seconds surrounded the world.

Your breath became even, the claws not anymore near you, not even existing, and standing there, an astonished Arthur finding in your eyes the same look he once had when Khonshu found him. Horror, pain, confusion.

"SIGHTER." Looking up the god Khonshu was coming your way, empty sockets looking without eyes. He put one knee on the ground and carefully to not spook you anymore, a hand cladded in old wrappings touched your skin. "HELLO LITTLE SIGHTER. DO NOT FRET" His hand was cold and it covered then the top of your head, patting it like one would do a puppy. "WHAT IS YOUR NAME, SIGHTER?" You gave your name and behind him Arthur walked to you, finally showing his face.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, I'm Arthur Harrow." The blue eyes looked at you like you held the answers to the most impossible questions, and the firm shake he gave to your hand was accompanied by a soft smile. You were a shaking mess. "Come with me"

Not even questioning him you followed this man and his god, you didn't have anywhere else to go, no one else who to trust but the aura surrounding him, a beautiful almost imperceptible melon colour told you that he was in pain, he was grieving but the more outstanding shade of mustard yellow gave away the gentleness and caring and safety.

~~🌙~~

Khonshu was watching both of you, still holding hands like your life was depending on it. He followed to Harrow's apartment, he stood alongside you while you ate so fast you almost chocked on the chicken and Arthur had to pour more water on your glass after you drank in two gulps. "You will be safe here"

"Are you- are you like me?" You both were still sitting at the dinner table, heart rate was finally normal, your stomach full and after he talked about mundane things –like how interested he was on science and that he had being learning german for 5 years– you were able to almost feel safe. He was easy to talk to. "You can see Khonshu and you could see the shadow from before."

"It's different for me," you poured a little more coffee on your cup and offered more to Arthur who nodded, grateful. "I'm the avatar of Khonshu, which gives me certain abilities: strength, velocity, awareness, the Sight. You were born with these gifts, for what I see."

"My grandma used to be my guide, she passed away and even then I learned from her." Arthur got up inviting you to the large sofa, he gave you a blanket and sat next to you, hearing everything you wanted to share. "She used to tell me that I could have explosions of temper, powerful but draining,"

"Powerful indeed, it felt like I was touching the sun for a moment." You both let out a lazy laugh. "My condolences. I know how it feels to- to lose someone you love." There was a pause where both of you lingered in the memories of it. "I think your grandma would've been proud of what you did tonight."

A tiny smile was your answer and Arthur chuckled. "Thank you. For- for letting me stay here as well, I know Khonshu is making you and- and I'm really sorry for invading your space-"

"Hey, hey. Stop, please. It's not only him that wants you to stay here. I prefer that you don't go around looking for a place on a doubtful motel. If you need to stay for a while I wouldn't mind and if you wish to go, the door is open. Just- " he laughed lightly when a soft breeze passed by and you looked over to where Khonshu was suddenly perched, you couldn't see his expression but the stillness told you he didn't agree on the options Arthur gave you. "Just be sure to let us now. You can take the spare room, and, yeah... that's it. I should get ready, you go take a nap, it's gonna be daylight soon."

"Thank you again Arthur." You smiled at each other and parted ways.

The room was small and cozy, with a large window illuminated in moonlight. You didn't dare turn on the lights and for the appreciative hum behind you, Khonshu agreed.

"I WILL KEEP YOU SAFE, SIGHTER. THERE'S STILL SO MUCH FOR YOU TO LEARN ABOUT YOURSELF." The god sat in front of the large crystal panels, crosslegged, and the room seemed smaller at his presence, even from his place at the floor.

You were curious– tired but curious. There looking at the way his beak tilt to the side while you carried the sheets from the bed to the floor alongside him, searching comfort from a being so cold, so different from the burn that was still in your chest, you realised that you felt more at ease with this two strangers for the few hours you met them than all the long years with your family.

"I have a lot of questions, but I feel- I can't really- everything is just, this... and-" you sighed.

"THE ANSWERS WILL COME, SIGHTER. WITH TIME, WITH PATIENCE I SHALL ANSWER YOUR QUESTIONS." Khonshu watched as you laid under the comforter and gazed right to the moon. Your tired eyes shined with white light, resembling the way Arthur's would when he summoned the suit.

"I should be panicking," this need to talk overcame you, the need to say it, you were distracted by the chat with Arthur, it helped you get your head back in time, it stopped you from spiralling into an anxiety attack, but you still wanted to, you still needed to talk about it, to know you were not- you weren't- "I should be feeling scared or at least crying. It was the first time I was able to do, well, that I did back there. But I feel..." the tears stung, your throat was closing in a painful knot. "I feel numb, I don't feel my body, is like I am here but I am not here. I can see you, I could see Arthur and I am- I have so-" a sob wracked you body, curling into yourself.

In one night you got away from home, after years of feeling like a monster, of feeling the looks they gave you.

You were attacked and you were terrified. You unlocked an unknown power and saved yourself. You met Arthur, an avatar, with eyes that hide torturous emotions like your own. You met his god Khonshu– that proclaimed his protection over you. You got a place to sleep, you got to eat, to laugh with this man. And you had so much in you, inside, that the tears cascading with no end and the headache pulsing relentless weren't enough to make you feel.

"YOU DON'T HAVE TO OBLIGE YOURSELF TO FEEL EVERYTHING ALL AT ONCE. YOU HAVE LITTLE CAPACITY AS A HUMAN. YOUR BODY IS STILL CATCHING UP TO YOUR BRAIN AND YOUR BRAIN IS IN A RACE TO GET TO THE PRESENT FROM WHAT HAPPENED."

Now, Khonshu wasn't human, he didn't understand the reactions of his own avatar and he couldn't even comprehend for the life of him what was that deep ache that –if he needed air to live– would have constricted his lungs. But weirdly, his cold reasoning and truth tone at talking made wail with more force and without guilt, without telling yourself you shouldn't feel sorry because you already had a roof.

Crying helped you clean your mind, your body was lest stiffen after long minutes of gasping for hair between wrecking sobs and the added weight of Khonshu's hand patting your head while you slipped into unconsciousness took some of the anxiety that got you every night.

~~🌙~~

That first morning you woke up to the smell of bacon and coffee. To the sound of relaxing ambient music and chirping birds. Your soul was sad, still crying without the need to shred tears but by finding yourself on floor with the memories of last night, free of a broken family you smiled.

It was a little smile and more started to come when you found a message from Arthur on the fridge, wishing you good morning, "Guten apetit" and the first gift of many from Khonshu, a moon shaped stone, held in a little crystal ball that hang from a black leader necklace. A protection, for his Sighter.

Soon your live changed, quite literally from night to morning, and you couldn't be more grateful for that fate.

Khonshu helped you with the soul call of the universe, the shadows lurking your way, the night terrors. For five years he taught you the way of the Sighters, to protect, to defend, to attack. And Arthur, your new found friend, showed you how to fight without your Sight.

For five years you had Khonshu, an asshole that protected you and taught you how to protect. And you had Arthur, your confident, your friend, your family who taught you how to defend yourself without magic, without immortality, with the fear of dying that kept every human alive on impossible situations. You learned how to science as well.

Maybe that's why it hurt so much when Arthur betrayed Khonshu and by consequence, betrayed you.

You had everything you never had, for those five years you learned what having a family felt like, and you learned that even the most perfect ones could be the more hurting ones.

~~🌙~~

The pain of that betrayal didn't waver, it didn't only affect Arthur and Khonshu's relationship, but yours and Khonshu's as well.

You believed that something had happened, something that made him get a so radical change of mind.

"You have to help him Khonshu! He isn't himself, I know it!" By this time, you were sure Arthur's neighbours were wondering calling or not to the police. You couldn't care less anyways.

"HE HAS CHOSEN A PATH, HE MADE THAT CHOICE SO HE WILL SUFFER THE CONSEQUENCES. AND YOU HAVE TO MAKE UP YOUR MIND WITH IT. I WILL NOT WASTE MY TIME ON HIM MY LITTLE SIGHTER, AND YOU SHALL NOT EITHER."

It had been like these since Arthur had gone out of that palace. It was so sudden, the way he talked, the way he walked. The simple job of justice was perfectly performed by him, as always and Khonshu was satisfied, or the most satisfied he could get. You were waiting at hotel room, after having done your own work. Helping the lost souls to find the path, helping the living ones to understand that same path. A group of extremists had got to you though, you had a few bruises and sore arm muscles but out of it, nothing a bubble bath and pain killers didn't heal.

At the hotel room he had a dry humour and the worst happened in the morning. Khonshu went away, he often left you both for short in the mornings and came back in middle afternoon, and so, Arthur got his chance. Started telling you about the justice, so passionately that his eyes looked maddening and when you started to joke he snapped.

One minute, breakfast in the balcony with a man you trusted, friend of years, the next you were in front of a stranger that held a cane from an old goddess, one that you recall, was the devourer of hearts. A chill swept your back when he asked for your hands, when you didn't give them willingly he took them with a harsh grip, forcing the cane on your wrists. To say that you kicked him, he kicked back and the fight finished with you running on a frenzy to the airport and him screaming your name on the crowded Egyptian streets.

"If you don't help him then I fucking will!" The desperation clouded your senses, you'll do anything for not letting go, you couldn't, why would someone give up something so beautiful? "He is my family, he needs me Khonshu and I'm not giving up on him," your voice was strained, between screaming and crying your vocal chords were suffering a great deal.

"HE IS NOT YOUR FAMILY." You stoped mid track packing your clothes. "YOUR FAMILY ABANDONED YOU, HE IS NOT BUT MY AVATAR AND YOU SHOULD UNDERSTAND THAT." Honestly, if he had just stabbed you with his centre the pain would have been less. Your heart clenched so painfully that the little mental awareness left in you wasn't enough to understand his next words. "YOU WILL NOT SEARCH FOR HIM, NOT IF I CAN HELP IT."

Yes, it hurt. Like a limb being sliced from you, suddenly the ground beneath you, your own gravity centre changed, your power changed. The utopia of a bubble of familial love fade away with the memory of Arthur Harrow at the same time that Khonshu prayed the god Dolos and put you to sleep.

~~🌙~~

"Ah, yes, Annubis, god of the embalming and the death, a very important and praised god until, well- heh, Osiris. Quite a family, 'innit?" You looked at the man that appeared out of nowhere, startling you a little. Now, you had the fucking Sight, but not even that was able to distract you from the soft, nervous smile under big brown eyes.

You might have seem like a fish out of water but who could blame you, this man just talked and it was like the lights around were brighter than ever, like the holes in your incomplete memories weren't important anymore. "I- yeah, yes. They should probably take a few holidays, can't imagine what thousands of years can do to someone relationships." He chuckled with your answer, his hand playing with the zipper of his jacket. Holy shit, he's cute.

"Although it was almost endearing, how he accepted his new position, Anubis, I mean... " you stared at him meanwhile he talked about the entire myth of Isis and Osiris love, Anubis and his supposed brother Horus and the why yes he might be, no, that might not be, but... a soothing voice he had, with a so heavy accent that had you wondering how could you have lived without it? "... which is a little funny 'cause he ended up embalming Osiris himself, don't ya think? Oh, I- I'm sorry I- I tend to ramble a lot, I- didn't-"

"Well thanks to the very renew Osiris and Horus, even Set myths now we have Anubis to take care of the embalming and those who are transitioning. Pretty funny as you say but in a way, like any belief, unstoppable."His mouth hanged open at your answer. You were listening, of course you were. You used to serve Khonshu, you used to... pray to him. And Egyptology was one of the most interesting subjects you could ever stood by, even before being catalog a former Sighter. And hearing someone like him, a pretty yet handsome man that was passionate about Egypt, that looked at you like you were a wonder and a full smile making his eyes shine Oh so bright, so fucking pretty.

You introduced yourself, shaking his clammy hand and with a smile as big as his. It was almost impossible to your heart not to flutter with his nervous chuckle.

"I'm Steven Grant, it's a really- real pleasure to meet you." By now you were only holding hands and you couldn't care less if it was awkward. His smile impossible to fade, your cheeks hurting of the same problem.

"Oh no, believe me, the pleasure is all mine."

If you were being honest, this was by far the best moment of your day. And you didn't know but, Steven with tired eyes and a hopeful gaze still in you couldn't agree more.

Again, I'm sorry for any mistakes 😅

I really liked writing this and finally making a move around my new Moonknight obsession 🌙✨🥰

#steven grant x reader #jake lockley x reader #marc spector x reader #moon knight #moonknight fic #arthur harrow #khonshu #khonshu x reader

[sophieswundergarten]

@nobody33333333!!!!

I know I said I'd get this out, like, two days ago, but unfortunately I had a pressing essay that I needed to finish. HOWEVER, I have now dealt with it, and so I get to gush about how much I enjoyed this chapter of "S.O.S."!!!!

(This is also going to be in a few parts, so I do apologise. I wanted to do it justice.)

First off, ten chapters!! A very exciting milestone :)

And I was so happy to see all of the sneak-peaks from the WIP Ask Game slot into this chapter; it's like five different layers of satisfying to see the passages I was really excited to read earlier match up with a piece of writing that I love so very dearly.

There is something so exactly siblingesque that Curtain is extremely angry about his brother "stealing" their joint ideas. I have basically had that exact conversation too many times to count.

Poor Jeeps. He's jeeped it up again.

"How many back-up locations and safe houses can one person have?" How many indeed. I think that either they have a ton, because all of them wanted to be prepared so they just set up like five different back up plans without telling each other, or Curtain's forces are absolutely abysmal at finding their singular safe house.

Curtain thinking about how Garrison is closer to him than Nicholas, even though she's currently brainswept herself is so sad. He had a family, and now all that he can do is compare how deeply their various "betrayals" hurt him.

"The family Curtain had lost" OKAY, WE'RE GOING THERE. OUCH.

But, really, that is an exquisitely crafted line with so much nuance and drama and pain.

It's really interesting that Kate and Milligan's names seem to be at (or near) the top of his list, while Nicholas is purposefully at the bottom. Because he still devotes the same amount of attention and mental energy to thinking about/capturing them. He's just pretending not to care.

" Nicholas, and everyone else that Curtain had ever cared about always fought against him, like disobedient unruly children" Oh, oh buddy. I totally get why this makes sense for his character and everything, but, again, why are you trying to run a school?

It is a skill that you can write Curtain's inner monologue and include such things at “The Endless Burden of Greatness is Mine Alone to Bear.” and still make me feel even smidge of serious sympathy for him. You have a talent, my friend.

You included the bit about Number Two's name!! I find that so funny, and am intensely gratified that you gave him that little thought anecdote about it.

Oooh, the way you included the lights from the shore so early in the chapter gave me shivers. I was brimming with anticipation by the time Curtain fully processed through it all.

It's a tiny bit funny to me that Curtain continually thinks of children and their skills as "pathetic", whereas when he himself was twelve he thought he could rule the world, and still holds that conviction!

"Or maybe Curtain was just being paranoid. Or maybe he wasn’t being paranoid enough." Or maybe you need therapy

His statement about the syllables has always thrown me off, but I reconsidered it here, and while I still have no answers, I have some observations: "Ledroptha Curtain" is 3-2, while "L.D. Curtain" can be considered 2-2 ("Reynard Muldoon" is also 2-2). However, both "Nathaniel Benedict" and "Nicholas Benedict" are 3-3. I wonder if the writers chose "Nathaniel" purposefully because of its syllables, as well as starting with "N". I wonder if it bothers Curtain that his name isn't really balanced anymore (as I can definitely see him struggling with some OCD tendencies; need for control and all) or if he likes it (or pretends to), since it no longer matches his brother.

Curtain's just sitting here judging Reynie for wanting to talk about his Manipulation Salad while pretending to care for more manipulation. I can't believe how irony-blind he is sometimes.

He's so awkward ugh this part makes my insides squirm

It's crazy but also really sad how much Curtain has retreated into his defensiveness since the S.O.S., because he's comparing Reynie to both Nicholas and Pedalian, but he can't get out of his own head enough to recognize Reynie as a person and possibly offer him some grace or even consider why he might be acting so oddly. It's good, because it means that the kids' plan works and their people reading skills have been put to good use, but it's still a little sad.

"who by this point was certain that the backhanded nature of his compliment would undoubtedly be completely lost on Reynie, as he didn’t even seem capable of determining the appropriate time to enter a conversation." Why is he so judgy this is actually hysterical-

Why. Just- Why? What about the Ribbon Interaction was so concerning that nearly ruins Curtain's opinions of Reynie? I mean, it sounds exactly like something Curtain would do but I am dying trying to sort it out in my head because it's so weird

AND HE'S STILL OFF. He has a whole interaction with Reynie, and then goes "Hm, I wonder where the possible spies my brother may have sent are. Truly a mystery." He's such a goofy dork, for all his "Greatness"

MILLIGAN

It's so neat that Milligan loves hiking. I just adore that detail.

Oh boy, Rhonda and Number Two's fighting never really sat right with me in the show, but I am liking the spin you put on it. I think it's probably just because I read the books and I was expecting them to be sisters, rather than colleagues. That said, I am very curious to see where you take it!

The way that you interject the girls' argument with the little descriptions of Milligan is amazing! It really captures the energy of the situation beautifully.

In a way, Milligan is mirroring Curtain in this scene, with his uncomfortable awkwardness and trying to escape the conversation.

Mr. Benedict's whole life sometimes feels like a series of putting off a task until it eventually confronts him and tips over into a domino line of other tasks. Same, buddy.

IS IT CONCERNING THAT I INSTANTLY KNEW WHAT SCENE MILLIGAN'S MEMORY WAS OF AND IT GUTTED ME

You are a beautiful artist and it's like watching a gorgeous quilt come together or someone weaving very fine lace to see you write but also sometimes it feels like you're repeatedly stabbing me in the heart

Oh, oh oh oh dear. It's the Milligan flashback. Still just as emotional the fourth or fifth time around :(

The way you describe his wife is so cool!! It's very genuine and sincere, but you keep the vague, mysterious air as well!! Very good.

Agh, and poor Milligan keeps second-guessing his memories and worrying that they're hallucinations or something, my heart hurts for him. And once again!! He wants to meet her again. I think that it adds a lot to things with how you've been writing him, because while obviously finding Kate again was amazing for him, but he probably had to grieve his wife all over again when he remembered her. (But, of course, we know that he'll get to "see her" in Kate, a little)

The way that Curtain does a full 180 from harshly judging Sticky for being timid and like Nicholas to (correctly) assuming that he's a spy is as ridiculous as it is interesting. Curtain is highly intelligent, he and Mr. Benedict are siblings, after all. However, he is constantly handicapping himself with his distrust of others and unhealthily excessive self-reliance.

S.Q.!!!!

“Not slacking off on your classes, are you?” SIR. What classes????

[madllamamomma]

To all that it may concern:

Hi. It’s me, ya Mad Llama Momma.

Yes. It’s been a very long time, and I am sorry.

Since the start of this year I have been unfortunately going through, well, a lot. Mentally and physically.

Now that I am where I am today, in January of 2023, I see that I was at an all time low and just didn’t know it. 2022 was a year of me kick staring my healing journey of my mind, body and soul. And let me tell you it has NOT been easy. Between new multiple physicians and even going through two therapist (holistic therapy was kinda a joke for me personally), a liver surgery scare, coming to realized that I had an eating disorder, and stopped drinking because of said liver surgery scare, it has been a fucking exhausting year. (Note: I had a kind of contusion on my liver from some unknown trauma 🤷‍♀️. Yeah, my doctor didn’t even have a clue.)

Turning 30 also was very mind boggling to me, and I literally mourned my 20s for almost half the year and was crying about the fact I wasn’t where I thought I’d be by now.

I wanted to be knee deep in a blossoming career and making the world brighter and better. As last month, I officially quit my job and do not have plan to go back to the medical field at all.

I wanted to be wearing a size 12-14 and somewhat fit. But I’m currently a size 22 and the biggest and most out of shape and unhealthy that I’ve ever been.

I wanted to be a mother by now. But due to my overall health, it just wasn’t in the cards at that point.

I feel like all of our young lives we are told that we are supposed to be in a certain place by a certain age or we are failures, freeloaders, lazy, etc. But I’m coming to terms that this isn’t true and that 20s aren’t the official end of my fun youth nor the end of my life.

This entire year also sparked something in me. Sometimes we need to think hard about where we are at in our lives and evaluate if it was even worth it. Sometimes, things happens and makes us question who we really are and makes us think if we really are truly happy.

I realized I was using the Arcana and my fanfics to heavily disassociate and a way for me to escape our crazy world and in a very unhealthy way. It was great when it was working, but when it wasn’t, all my depression and anxiety came flooding in without any remorse, and I couldn’t even muster myself to write anymore despite having so many ideas.

I am happy to say that I’ve been in regular therapy session, I started ceramics again (where I make a lot of crazy sub par mugs and other functional pottery), my liver is almost all the way healed, I started back to yoga, and I’ve been losing weight safely for my health.

After being restricted all of my young life, I am feeling like I have been able to be my most authentic self than I have ever been and I feel like for the first time in my life, and I am finally thriving. I was afraid of entering my 30s feeling lost and feeling bad that I wasn’t a hot young 20 something year old, but instead I’m entering an era where I am focusing on me. And it feels great. It feels amazing.

I have a lovely husband who is my best friend and soulmate and that loves me and supports me, I have a wonderful set of found family that loves me for me and never ask me to change or to be anyone else other than myself, I feel like I can be creative without being restricted. And it feels great. I’m figuring myself out and I am so happy I am able to do it.

(TL;DR) For all the people out there who feels stuck, who feel like they can’t be themselves, who feel like nothing is ever going to change—please just know, it does get better. People are out there to help you, people who want you to be your best self. Sometimes it takes medication, sometimes it takes lengthy therapy sessions, sometimes it takes putting up boundaries with your family and limited the time you spend with them, and sometimes it takes just you admitting that you need help.

Please don’t give up on your healing journeys even if you family doesn’t support you. Please don’t think you are alone.

Please. Please. Do not give up.

Happy New Years my lovely hungry trash pandas,

❤️

Your Mother Llama.

#the arcana #the arcana game #madllamamomma #the real life #happy new year #get motivated #get help #please share #love your momma llama

[kim-ruzek]

Aww, I loved Mack calling Adam Dad so casually. I also liked that Kim didn't mind because, if I'm honest, I thought she might have a problem with it.

I was really unsure about the Mack, Kim and Adam family for many reasons (a black traumatised child being cared for by two white police at a time when the divide is so clear and the fact that the writers did nothing to address this. I need to stop because I could rant about this for quite a while) but the actors and the young actress have really made it work.

I knooow I love love love that she said it so casually. Especially as that's something that does happen, that sometimes it's a huge thing where the child wants to ask before saying it and sometimes it just becomes something so simple that it just is, and the child just says it. And I honestly thought that when it happened cpd would make it be the former, but I loveeeee that it was the latter so so much.

I think especially because it just shows how loved, safe and secure she feels it that home, and with Adam. And shows that she does have a connection with Adam that isn't tied through her connection to Kim, which is really important.

I also love it because I wondered if they'd do it, or not. Obviously Adam can function as her dad and be seen through her eyes as dad without that name, and I wondered if that'll be the direction they go in, especially as it would be completely realistic for Mack to have negative associations with that title, but the fact that she doesn't shows an element of how well they've both supported her overcoming the traumas she's faced.

I was never worried about Kim having a problem with it personally. I mean maybe last season, but this season has been really strong and with Kim moving them in to the house and essentially trusting Adam to take on an even bigger load of the parenting as she goes to therapy, I was fairly confident that she wouldn't because (and this is just in universe, ignoring all the out of universe reasons I was confident ofc) she's very much let him take upon that role with little interference or misplaced protectiveness/possessiveness over Mack. But I will admit it was very relieving that she didn't, because you never know.

I was also pretty unsure about the family, which tbf was also because of other non race factors. I put a lot of it behind me fairly quickly though, I think especially once it became abundantly clear that they weren't going to tackle any of the complications. Not because they no longer bothered me, but because it'll drive me crazy otherwise and I just forced myself to make peace with it as much as possible.

And a lot of the reason as to why I could was because of the actors involved, both Marina's and Paddy's tenderness in the scenes actually featuring Makayla, and Ramona's acting itself really helped it work. (And of course the inclusion of Uncle Kev and Jordan this season helped even more).

And I mean, I have some white family members myself so I am always a little soft towards multi racial families (just would maybe not put a traumatized black girl with two white cops. They made it work and I do prefer in many ways them having a black/poc kid as a low semi regular on the show than a white kid but it also should've been a drawing board idea only and despite how well it's turned out and that I probably wouldn't trade this in for anything I will still always stand by that).

Thank you for asking!! 💖

#ree's asks #adam ruzek #chicago pd #makayla burgess #Chicago pd spoilers #thank you for asking!!! 💖 #lovely anons #sorry i rambled a bit 🤣 #ree has thoughts

[sweetswesf]

Finally Made a Move on Gym Bae

Hey folks...I thought I'd update y'all on what has been building up for months: me finally figuring out if my gym crush felt the same way about me...so...here we go...

(Side bar, this gif is from the game "Crazy Taxi" for all my Gen-Zr's out there...It is based in San Francisco. I used to love to play this as a kid...who knew I'd be working for a taxi company in San Francisco...the ride at that company was even crazier than depicted in the game!" Anyway, back to the story...)

I wrote my number on a piece of paper and just put it in my gym bag "just in case"...I said to myself, "Am I really going to do this?"...I did not meet with my therapist that week, and we had been meeting every week prior to this. I wanted to give her a good story/report card about the progression of our interactions in our next meeting, so I figured I needed to pass my number off to him and figure out his story soon lol. Funnily enough, the last time I told my crush I liked them, it was after many talks and encouragement in therapy from my therapist. I went to another therapist for the last crush...The last crush did not feel the same way and he did not want to continue even the friendship. I mean, it was like he was REPULSED...So naturally, there was trepidation with this new crush. I told myself that I would wait be approached, but I got impatient and listened to people who told me that I needed to do more and that maybe he didn't approach me because he works there. I fought them back every time, reassuring them and standing firm on the statement that I am bold and DO "put myself out there" despite me wanting to no longer be the pursuer.

After I put my number in my gym bag, I headed to the gym. I had a call with my other laid off female ex-apprentice gym buddy so I couldn't talk to my gym bae at the desk like I usually do. As I was signing in, I was talking on my phone. He came over and started talking and I thought, "Wow, he don't care that I'm moving my lips and obviously talking on my phone."...Then I realized he was telling me to write my name and number down. I got too hyped, like, "GOD! This is it! I didn't even have to put my pride aside and approach him with my number." Then, I realized, it was because the computers were down again and they had to do manual sign ins and he asked everyone for their name and number. LOL. I smiled WAYYY too big when he asked me...

Anyway. I worked out and the cardio portion of my workout, sometimes I can see him through the mirror. Unfortunately, I was booted from the group cardio room because a class was about to start. So, the only feasible place to do cardio was in close eye shot of the main desk where he stands. He was checking me out, stealing looks, making eye contact...I tried to ignore it as to not seem as interested, but I met his eye here and there...

Finally, getting my bag and heading out, I put my number in my hand just in case. I wasn't sure if I was going to do it or not, but I knew that I needed to have the number ready because my brain tends to shut off. I obviously plopped right in front of him the day before next to his colleagues and kind of made it awkward so I needed to redeem myself. I also knew that it was his last work day, and I didn't want to go another weekend of wondering what if...

On my way out, I wanted to check if the coast was clear and that his cock-blocking manager wasn't there. Another guy who I had never seen before working there was the only other person beside him and there was only one customer who was in a wheel chair below the height of the desk so he would not see me slipping my number to the guy.

He gave me the sweetest wave and smile. He crouches down to my level and does that. It felt way too personal. I got past the desk and paused. I turned and looked back at him and head and hand gestured for him to come closer. I slid him the paper with my number on it. He said, "OOOhh," laughed a little bit, then told me to have a good day in flirty way. I regretted it as I walked out. I knew he would not be who I want to be with in the long run. I assumed he would no be able to afford even to cover dates. I did not want to run on this assumption though and just wanted to see if there was more behind his smiles and our eager attempts at short convos.

He texted instead of called around 6 hours later around 5:30 PM. I almost didn't think it would happen. He apologized for having it take so long and that he had just woken up from a nap. If you got your crush's number finally...would you take a nap? Exactly...Anyway, I'll continue...

Because his name can be represented in an emoji, of course, he used that in his intro twice...as I expected *eye roll*. I thought, "Man. There are already red flags."

Did I listen to that intuition? No. Of course not...

I should have known how things would go when he didn't opt for a call. He joked and said he had a wife and three kids, to which I responded, "My bad bro" and this gif.

He said he was joking. Another red flag. Don't joke like that on the first convo...

He also did not want to tell me his age. Another red flag. I knew he was young, but I guess I had hoped not that young...sure enough. 22. 7 years my junior. My friend and I joked about what we were doing at 22:

Her: "hungover a lot".

Me: "A lot of tears. I had just moved to the Bay from NY."

He is one year younger than my little brother and the last guy that tried to talk to me was this age range too and I reminded them both real quick, "This feels icky!". But, as in the last time, they reassured me, "Don't judge me." I should have continued judging, only harder...

This guy got sexual in his convo FAST...He needed a lot of descriptions, a lot of affirmations, and he kept asking me to ask HIM questions. I chalked it up to him being young and tried not to judge so quickly. And I was so happy that he was texting back fast, we were talking for hours...until damn there 4 AM. I tried to leave a few times and he expressed he wanted me to stay on. He even sent me a good morning text 4 hours after we stopped talking lol.

It felt like relief and validation...It felt like, "Wow, maybe he's more interested in me than I thought." But he would never use my name. And he didn't ask many of the things I hoped he would ask, or say some of the things I hoped he would. He said he would have asked me for my number a long time ago but was respecting my space. He also asked things like, "How long were you waiting to give me your number?" I did not answer that. I felt either he was trying to stroke his ego and be condescending or that he was truly honored. And your girl is kinda horny so, I mean, I was like wow, he's talking about sex a lot but we're also getting into his background but it was also horrible because it was going so fast that I was like, "Hmm...I'm going to either do some things I don't want to do, or let him down and this is going to end bad...or end before it can even begin." I saw the signs and I was like:

I thought, "Well maybe I'll just not have intercourse. Maybe I will have intercourse...cause he is BIG and talking like he know what he doing! Maybe I'll make sure he's tested first and negative for everything. But what if it's fake. Do people do that?" I talked him down to a 3 date rule before he could even touch the cat. He was against it LOUDLY at first, then said he was cool with my rules. I was compromising with him AND with my vows with God. I said, "WOw. I've been doing so good with this abstinence thing, that I may let a guy who cleans up the gym from time to time and has expressed not even wanting to do the 3 dates screw all of that up...AND he's expressing all this IN THE FIRST CONVO." Can someone say, "DESPERATE".

See. It's one thing to have standards and boundaries. It's another to actually PRACTICE them. The 3 date rule IS a new thing for me. I've let guys do more for less. I thought about all the things I would do with him. I REALLY want to play this question prompt card game with SOMEONE. I want to have game nights. I want to watch movies and lay up with someone cute. ALL that to me in my small space seems like it would lead to sex. But I was ready to risk it all. No matter how much I ALSO want to remain celibate.

The next day I didn't do any of the studying I had planned. Just talked to him in the time I was supposed to study. I told him. He didn't care. He told me he wasn't looking for a relationship. I thought, "That's okay. Me neither. Because aint no way I'm showing you to my friends and family." I wanted to see if maybe he was a student and working towards making more money or something. I had a STRONG feeling he wasn't, but listened to friends who were like, "Stop judging." I KNEW...I KNEW...stupid and new neck tatts of his were the give away. I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN! Him even expressing that he practices tattooing in his free time screamed, "THIS AINT THE ONE YOU EVEN WANT TO INVITE OVER FOR MONOPOLY." But, I kept at it. I haven't had anyone wishing me good morning for damn there a WHOLE YEAR. Last time was around this time last year. And that guy was worse! I wasn't even attracted to the guy. I'm attracted to this guy only a bit more...like, going closer up to him when HE was working out one day, I was like, "Mmm, I don't like him like that anymore." But other angles were like, "Okay, maybe." That day he didn't ask me for my number and was quick with his convo, and I should have listened to that more.

He expressed he was new to the city, just got out of a long relationship. She left him. He said he lost a lot of money and was going to buy a house with her, etc. etc. I THINK I believe it, but IDK man...

I mean, I was trying to make stuff happen. If I was on the outside looking in, and if this was happening to another person, I'd be like, "YOU DUMMY! HE AIN'T THAT INTO YOU!"'

I saw a tweet that stung, "There's a difference between being sexually attracted and interested in someone." I mean, it's not a revelation, we all know this, but a right on time message...

He tried to meet up to do something on a blanket in the park IN THE RAIN when he found out we live right next to each other. Same MF cross street. This whole time. *face palm* This was hours after laughing with my friend that I did a broke walking in the park date with the last dude. And here I was being propositioned to do this AGAIN.

I figured he couldn't afford it, but there is ice cream, there is boba, there's drinks at the bar, there's restaurants. A person that wants to will MAKE THE EFFORT.

He was showing effort though and affirming me that he was cool with not jumping into sex and just friendship.

He mentioned one time when I wished him good night after waiting and never receiving his text reschedule of a meet up he proposed that I didn't text him back.

Convos like this went on for 4 days. I mean, I went back to the feeling of hope that it would be his number on my phone when I received a notification. Like a drug. If I do that for someone like this, imagine if it was with someone who was ACTUALLY into me like I was into them. Someone who was REAL marriage potential.

I keep reading the stats about Black women in our singledom and I'm tired of it. I've never been with anyone and it didn't bother me as much in my early and mid-twenties. I didn't know I would get to be 29 and STILL no boyfriend ever. Just flings that waste my time. NO ONE of promise. Ever. I'm pretty, nice body, dress well, stylist, personality, TALENTED, come from a 2 parent home, had a nice paying job, I'm smart, college educated, in a male-dominated field, been around the world, CHRISTIAN.

For like a day during our convos, I felt GREAT. I had someone who liked me! Or so it felt. I was smiling more. I was more optimistic about staying in San Francisco longer all of a sudden. When a mood swing happened when he went long stretches without texting back, I paid for a random Black girl’s meal because I knew she probably has gone through heartbreak from some idiot wasting her time. I felt for her and didn’t know her but assumed her walk has been, is, or would be similar one day.

I thought, well, maybe God doesn't want this for me. God grants your desires and prayers, but what if that's not what he wants to give you? Do I keep yearning for it, or do I look at the signs and just accept that this MIGHT not be in my future. He's got a plan and I admittedly aint been trusting him. And I'm not proud of that.

Forcing ANYTHING will not succeed. I thought maybe the boy was just hella insecure. I don't know. I shouldn't even let that young and inept man occupy my headspace like this.

I shut it down today. Told him bye after asking if he wanted to see each other and he responded, "Aww you want to see me?" When I said, "Yeah. Only if it's what you want to do." To which he responded, "Where at." That was the final straw. I mean, I have just NOT been respecting myself. But this...It was too much even for me in that dumb state I was in...The dumb state I may still be in...

Ugly selfies was a giveaway too. I don't mean ugly as in his features, I mean ugly as in, it wasn't little effort. No, your photos don't need to be amazing AT ALL, but if you really care, you wouldn't send your blurry worst. ESPECIALLY after the intended recipient tells you, "I won't judge. I see you every day. I think you're cute." etc. etc. But if you don't really care about that person like that, you're like, "Ehh, I'll send whatever." I don't call anyone ugly. He called hisself ugly and I shut that down.

I told him he wasn't making effort and probably just wanted to have sex but wasn't interested in me. Told him bye. He had a really sorry excuse and half-answer and told me he'd see me around. He told me I was right. I didn't confirm if he meant I was right about him just wanting sex or if I was right about him not setting up anything and that actions speak louder than words. I asked him to confirm or deny my understanding of what he was saying. Maybe it was too much for him.

A part of me STILL wants to keep this damn door open. No matter how much I know this ain't a good idea for me, it feels like a loss. Yet again. I kept asking if I sabotaged it. Because he showed signs and said words and maybe he was intimidated, young, preserving his feelings. Maybe I mismanaged them. Maybe I moved too fast. But no. Anyone who is for me will be ready. I maybe moved too fast for him. I may not have been his cup of tea too. Just good enough to have sex with. I don't know man. I still don't know if he was actually attracted. Words are words. I have faked attraction before. I thought a guy was cute only with a face mask on before.

Sure, I could have hopped on the phone, but, I figured he was nervous and didn't want to make him more nervous. Because I've been nervous. I'm an empath. Sometimes to my own fault.

I thought of calling my old high school love. I'm just digging in the bottom of the trash can.

Hours after this, my dad contacted me to apologize after his long haiitus. I also got hit up by SO many people at that same time. Maybe it was from God because I am emotionally spent.

You can't win if you don't play, and you can't play if you stay inside all day. I tried. I'm just jumping for the wrong ones. It came up in therapy that I don't trust myself. I don't. And I need to trust God. And I need to trust myself.

I don't want to go back to not being able to wake up to a good morning text. Maybe that's what his fear was too. Maybe he was doing the same: trying something he wasn't totally into due to loneliness. My fear is that I will end up like my mom: give everything of yourself to a man who mismanages it and takes you for your money after you do everything you're supposed to do in that marriage and more. I don't want that for me. I am not the player type either. I can't just do the sexual act and not expect for there to be something where the guy spends his money and time with me in the day time outside the bedroom.

Truth is, God will curse whatever is not meant for you. I don't think this was meant for me but I tried to force it anyway. And God is saying, "Listen to me! Trust me! I got you! Quit being restless." I can remember that, but I still have heartache yo. How can I forget this with the next person who may come along? Whenever you are on your way to accomplish something big or elevate, the devil is always there to tempt you. I’ve been beating myself up that I failed this test. Even if I didn’t act physically on it, the thoughts and words were bad enough.

I prayed about this one. And I was on the fence. But I knew my best self would not have, and I should have been that.

If he contacts me tomorrow, what will I do? Will I give him a second chance? I shouldn't. But a part of me believes that I will. Would y'all pray for me, please?

#gym crush #fitness #prayer #fear #sesame street #oscar the grouch #betty white #shrek #three blind mice #san francisco #valentines day #valentine #crazy taxi

[reelovesbuckybarnes]

I hope that you all are not gonna get upset with me for tagging you in this but i seriously need to get this off my chest...

It was about 3,4 months ago if i can remember correctly... i lost 2 rp partners due to me that had accidentally broke their rp rules. I never meant to do that cos of jealousy in rp as well as due to my mental health cos sometimes i do snap.

And one of their friends had started to send me threats on my asks and on my inbox telling me to fuck off and that i am such a damn drama queen . I suffered actually and i nearly gave up roleplaying because one of their friends warned them about me etc. all because i had accidentally broke their rp rules.

Some even blocked me. Called me names... i was really going through such a rough time. I had sleepless nights, i lost an excessive amount of weight, i was completely stressed out.

And the real life me...

I suffer from a disability problem disorder. I have no friends in real, the neighbors don't like me calling me a crazy person and laughing at me, I wear glasses and i am also not the glamorous type that wears makeup or wearing high heels getting all dressed up. I am just a plain 41 year old woman that looks so young for my age (some say that i look like a 17 year old).

Anyway...

Also this year i have come out as bisexual. But i can't tell my family about it, they don't always appreciate me and they treat me like a kid. And my late dad would be turning in he's grave if he knew that me he's youngest daughter is a bisexual. My mom,older brother and sister don't even know that i am bisexual and there's no way in hell that i will ever tell them that.

But one thing is for sure...

I am so proud to be a bisexual and ain't nothing is gonna change that, ever...

In real life i am a loner, and i am back into roleplaying again cos this time i have found the right rp guy and that is @the-tj-hammond ❤.

And reading the amazing fanfictions also helps me. Music calms me too it takes me into another place and time like i feel that i can be myself.

And also i have such wonderful friends on here too . I thank you all for being such great and dear friends to me and to also keeping up with me as well .

I love you all...

And yeah i still go for therapy sessions. That helps me too...

So yeah ...

That's all about me.

For now.

@jessybarnes @asipofwineandfandoms @scentedkittenperfection @j-bucky-barnes-anon @ghost-wolf34 @jobean12-blog @the-tj-hammond @ask-scott-lang-whatever @nessiesbarnes @theamberstark @superdcchick

#my info #self healing

[limeade-l3sbian]

hey girl!! i heard you were taking asks about people's concerns! this is my first time using anon to ask something ^^

lately, i've been questioning myself a lot. i've been thinking about how maybe i'm wrong for being a radfem or just being a lesbian. in my country, there's insane pressure for women to get married. i don't want to consider marriage at all right now.. but the problem is that you can't do anything without a husband.. even if i want to study abroad that means i'll have to have a husband. sometimes i just think it'll be easier if i just.. reject my same sex attraction?? like if i somehow convince myself to like men then my life will be a lot easier. of course i know how wrong it is to think this but i sometimes can't help but actually consider going to conversion therapy or something. idk it's just a weird situation for me? growing up i always was proud of who i was and now i'm doubting myself. i think it's because i'm nearing my adult years and i have to think about these things?? i'm just wondering if it's common for women to think these things..

Hey!! <3 <3

Here's the thing, anon. You're not the first person to think this way, and that's a good and a bad thing. Bad, because obviously no one should feel out of place in their own skin. But good (kinda), because at least you know you're not alone. Sometimes when we think we’re the only one feeling a certain way, it can make us feel like we’re going crazy.

I want to touch this concern with gloves not just because I really need you to hear what I’m saying, but also because I don’t want to overstep. I was born and raised in America. Much as a pain in the ass as that is, I know where I stand and don’t want to give you any advice or words that could potentially put your housing or life at risk. You know your situation much better than I do, so if something I say seems risky, go with your gut. This is your life, so you know your situation better than I can.

You are not wrong for being a lesbian, anon. I want to make that very clear. Same sex attraction is beautiful. It is such a light in my life and that’s why I post about it so damn much, because it is one of the most beautiful things that I am so glad to be able shared with other gyns like yourself. I’m willing to seem like the annoying person who won’t shut up about being a lesbian because I love women and I love women who love women.

My love for my sexuality is a personal feeling, but the sexuality itself is out of my control entirely, anon. No amount of praying, conversion therapy, or anything else would wipe it from my soul. The same goes for you. I can’t put into words how much I sympathize with your situation and I need you to know above all else that you are not wrong, or broken, or different in any negative way. You see the beauty of women, beyond physicality, and see a place to find love. Your heart can be home with another woman and you can feel peace there. How can that be wrong?

Pardon my French, anon, but conversion therapy is fucking torture for SSA people who are either sadly convinced that they have a wrong that needs to be made right or are being forced to fit into a space that was never for them. That you feel this way and exist in a space where having a husband is a prerequisite to progressing in life is not a coincidence. The powers that be want you to feel this way. They want you to look at SSA the same way they do; as some marring on your quality of life. That life cannot be lived to the fullest until you “deal with this”. You said you had so much pride in yourself before you started getting older? Hold onto that, anon! Jesus Christ, please hold onto that pride. Do not let it go for shit. You should feel proud! Why the fuck not? Because some assholes said so? Fuck them. If you’re a lesbian, then you should feel proud of that!

You deserve to be happy just like any straight woman in your country who can’t wait to marry a man. You deserve to look forward to love, not burdened by what it will entail. SSA is beautiful, anon. It’s fucking beautiful and don’t think for a second anything about you needs “fixing”.

I will defer to other radfems who have more experience dealing with countries with similar rules and expectations.

But on a final word, you hit my ask box anytime you want, anon. I’ll give you a good kick in the ass when you start thinking who you are is ill-fitting for this world lol. <3 <3

#ask #lesbian radfems #radfem safe #radfems do touch #radfems please interact #lesbian radfem

[rubyr0tten]

I feel guilty

All the time I feel like I’m a terrible person, I feel like almost everyone in my life has left me, at a certain point I just have to wonder why, it must be because I have something wrong with me

I must be mean or unlikable I must be making mistakes that cause people to leave me so quickly. Is it me or is it just normal? Do most people only have friends for a few years and it ends either calmly or terribly. I’m never the person to start drama yet some how I always end up being caught in it, am I really the cause for the drama?

I don’t understand these neurotypical standards, everything is a secret, your feelings your thoughts your actions, you have to dig it out of someone in order to know anything, why can’t you just tell me what you wanna tell me? I’m so afraid of hurting people’s feeling and when I do I get so angry I wanna throw up, I’m so guilty when I upset someone I feel like scum.

I try to use the skills I practiced in therapy but sometimes it just doesn’t make sense, how am I supposed to talk to people when every time I speak I feel like I’m a fucking waste of air. People make me feel like an idiot for just speaking, I can rarely get words out fully without getting talked over, I am constantly trying to make everyone happy and when I start to not do that I’m selfish, when I use my voice I’m annoying when I set a boundary I’m a bitch

Actually it’s so hard to deal with and I’ve become so saddened by the sudden burst of hatred that has consumed my life, i have no idea what I’ve done to bring this into my life I try to be kind everyday, I put on a smile for those around me bc I believe it can change everything, I do this all because I truly believe it is how you heal the world and peoples pain, yet still I’m selfish, I’m lazy, I’m a liar , I’m a bum

These are the things I’m seen as, I’ve gone crazy because it it I just accept that is what I must be, it has made me angry and I wish more than anything to fix that.

I will be better, I know it hard,still I will try everyday to be better to love and to give while also allowing myself to do what is best for my life, I cannot sacrifice my life for people who don’t treat me with respect

Thanks for reading, this page has kinda become a diary of sorts I hope it helps you feel a little less alone

Also gonna attach my gofundme below bc I actually need help fr. Love you I truly wish you have the most amazing day, ❤️

#diary entry #lost #tw depressing thoughts #anxienty #queer

[lemonflowercat]

acceptance and commitment

//feeling so self-sabotage-y//

the past 4 days have been supremely unproductive. we had to deal with a stressful housing situation and my back pain had me wincing while doing anything but lying supine in bed. thankfully, both of these things got sorted out on Wednesday (i am so so grateful it's all settled down, especially our housing sitch). yesterday was supposed to be the day i get back on track but i made the horrible decision to weigh myself in the morning - and that triggered a landslide of self-hate and misery that had me non-functional for the rest of the day.

currently, it's Friday morning - a week has gone by and i've done nothing. i feel disgusted with myself, my body, my inability to compartmentalize and prioritize - the self-judgement is so strong, it's making me want to numb myself with instant gratification. i am not looking forward to my day, i don't want to do anything.

so here's some acceptance:

stress puts me in freeze mode.

guilting myself over things i haven't done, apprehension over my prolonging to-do list make me want to avoid these things even more.

i find it difficult to stay motivated and consistent after working hard for about a week. it gets exhausting to exercise, control my diet, and do chores - all squeezed into my study breaks. i get about an hour in a day to relax and do other things that i enjoy, and i think that might be the reason why i feel so crazy by the end of a productive week.

once a stressor is resolved, i need some mental health time to process things, clear my mind, and get back in the zone. writing, yoga and meditating are my favourite ways to process things.

academic success is the only time my parents expressed their appreciation for me through a childhood where i was unseen and felt unloved/unwanted for the most part.

my hyper-intense focus on how fat i am makes it hard for me to feel confident in my skin.

i eat more when i'm stressed. i eat more when i'm sad. i eat more when i'm happy and want to celebrate. i think about food often - i enjoy meal planning, i enjoy cooking. i love experimenting with new cuisines, trying out new restaurants, and eating at the really good ones. i'm a picky eater in the sense that i want to eat food that's skillfully cooked and tastes really good.

i'm often bored of the food i cook at home, or too tired to put a good tasting meal together for us. and since A can't cook, we end up eating out. my mother in grained in me this dysfunctional system of food scarcity: she labelled foods and heavily restricted the bad ones. these restrictions only applied to us, while she herself would freely eat said "bad" foods from the hidden secret stash. she conditioned us into believing that eating out = stuffing yourself to the fullest (my brother would often throw up by the time we got to dessert at a buffet, and then continue to eat - and this was something my mother would laugh at) and this is a pattern i'm struggling so hard to break out of now - treating a restaurant meal like any other meal: one that is balanced and just enough to keep me energized and make me feel good after.

Bengali culture is very food centric - i think this is where my snobby palate and passion for food were nurtured, while also being the setting where my dysfunctional eating took root.

i've been a fat girl since i was a baby. all my life, there isn't a single moment when i wasn't fat - i often wonder if being big is natural to me. i am also a big boned 5' 7" girl (tall, by Indian standards).

my mother fat shamed me throughout - and continues to do so. she has also often stated that i'm unattractive - beliefs that have permeated in me. i have also been made to feel unattractive and unwanted by people because of my fat. i have sometimes been the butt of fat girl jokes among my friends.

my childhood was a very dysfunctional one - something that therapy has been helping me come to terms with. in fact, until my therapist confirmed it, i wasn't even sure if it really was dysfunctional or if i was just being a drama queen. amidst the lack of security in my childhood, food became one of my biggest sources of comfort. i have memories from a very young age of stealing food from my mother's "secret stash", especially when i was home alone. as i hit my teenage years, i began obsessively bingeing and purging at the first chance i could get. the guilt i feel over this i overwhelming. food has a huge impact on me emotionally.

i have cycled in and out of restrictive diets in order to lose weight. the longest i've been able to stick to one is for about 15 months.

especially because i study medicine, the health repercussions of being overweight are a huge source of anxiety for me.

i actually truly love working out, curating healthy meals for myself and studying - my ability to do all of this heavily depends on my emotional state and energy levels. especially so because i have major all-or-nothing mentality - i want it all to go perfectly, down to the right time like a (not Indian) train schedule - and a small thing amiss makes me feel like a failure. then i hole up in freeze for the rest of the day.

i accept that i am all of this - and it isn't good or bad. it just is. i spend so much time trying to align with who i want to be, i forget to align with who i already am. i accept that, among all these beliefs, there are many that serve me and many that are ok to let go off. i accept that navigating through this will take time, there is so much to unlearn and learn. i accept that, at the end of this road or any road - there is no assured happiness to find. assured happiness and satisfaction with the self does not exist. no matter what i become, there will never be a future where i'm not striving to change something around me/in myself for the "better". and that's why - all these "goals" that i set for myself needn't feel so heavy and do-or-die. i accept that the burden of the future is one that i can take off my shoulders and set down. that doesn't mean giving up on my future all together - it means sailing, with no pressure, in the general direction of things that add meaning to my life.

with this acceptance, i commit to things that make me happy now:

studying, as much as i can, every day. i love the mental workout of studying and also can we take a moment to really appreciate what a magical science medicine is (': - studying also makes me happy now because it brings me closer to starting my MD, and i am so excited to be back in the hospital, furthering my journey as a doctor + researcher. i know that focusing is hard after 2h - i can work with this and schedule my study hours such that i get a good break after this.

morning yoga and

meditating both of these soothe my soul. they make me slow down and be present in each tiny passing second. they make me more observant and appreciative of the self and the world, more intentional with my choices and actions. they make my life richer, softer, more open and accepting, and deeply calm.

eat what is best for my body i am attempting to do something that feels very scary to me: stop calorie counting *alarm bells go off in my head* hehe :'| i don't think emphasizing on the numbers is serving me. i want my relationship with food to be centered around the nutrients in it, what it does for my body, how it makes me feel, being a conscious consumer, and exploring different cultures through cuisine. this is going to be a learning curve - one where i am aware that i may gain weight - and as scary as that is, it's ok. i'll learn a lot, i'll figure out a system for myself through this, and i'll make sure my body is getting what makes her energetic, healthy and happy - because that really is all that food should be giving me.

workout for the joy it gives me to see my body getting stronger, faster and more flexible. for knowing that i'm taking care of my heart, my joints and muscles. for the ditzy of endorphins. and for the joy in the sheer act of movement.

i commit to my 75 soft, this time with 3 changes:

i don't have to start over if i break a streak. i just celebrate my longest streak.

i don't have to hit every goal every day. they're just a framework of things i'd like to get done each day

and the biggest, scariest of them all: [] 1400 kcal eat nutrient-focused meals mindfully, whenever i'm hungry - until i'm just enough full

#self parenting #emotional regulation #bingeandpurge #just binged #freeze mode #mental health

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

12.14.23 Thursday

4:39 pm

Tomorrow will be my medical in MOA Conduent and thanks Tala for the back-up...

Plus, will check people will target possible people who wants to have an upper life in a way, a more progressive life away from the loud Manila.... Will just give this pre-selling pamphlet... If I have the money just for my property collection, I want the 2 bedroom unit near the pocket garden but I need a car hahaha but John is not allowed there.. I wanna commission angels... I need 50k or 100k or more... For my collagen down there and for the new refrigerator or washing machine and my deep smile lines and to save money...

Still, having windblow...

I just asked a salon how much is my hair therapy coz my hair is sick, it looks ohkay but it is sticky. They told me I need a "collagen -botox" and I asked about the "power dos" coz it was my hair therapy since high-school or the cellophane but I just asked coz I don't have any budget for now... They told me for my hair length it is about 2k pesoses.. I told them I just really ask for now.. But will just go back if I have the money...

I have so many complex in me, I really do feel fat,ugly but thank God I gotta job but it will just last for 5 months and after that I don't know if I can get the regularization but I really wanna beat the call center and get a higher position like a product manager or trainer...

I still feel self-pity and nobody wants me... The one that I possibly want it is so fucking crazy, I can't really exist and a thing to be my inspiration on my writing skill....I also planned to make a book about romance and more of erotic scenes based on reality life of people...

When you have windblow, it is somehow a big question mark... Question mark about everything, why,when,why,when.....It runs in my head...

I really wanna do botox and collagen as well... But life is not a piece of cake for me now... You have to live what you have now but not really my ideal thing but at least hoping I can buy starbucks everyday and save for my trip going to ilocos to see that beauty of sand-dunes and hoping to meet that fucking rock and some plastics rocks and pebbles as well...

But life should be now, live what you have...

8:35 pm

Still,have windblow....So, weird my body is aching more on left side....I didn't exercise for 5 days and this happens, if I stop stretching or at least just to exercise the basics, my body will be in pain...

I need a massage but everything is just weird here... So,tight, tight that sometimes you will loose coz there is no way out but to wiggle... The main point I don't have enough budget so, I badly need to have job to earn and to survive... ( Thanks to Conduent! )

Anyways, I feel sentimental now and somehow melodrama but I don't wanna think too much coz like what I posted "life should be now, live what you have"...

But it should be me singing this or you??? Or both of us... "the past is over and gone, give me your troubled mind,you know it is you! I can do so much for you...."

Does it bother anyone? You or me? ( Nakakaiyak naman oh! )

"Don't speak too much of what's been going on?" ( but there is question mark at the end, funny right??? )

For my fetus going to baby and I wonder if he grows without me???

11:12 pm

Oh! God please extend my life... My left body is aching and my chest and headache... These are stress,tension and pressure and worries...

I have windblow weird, weird am I hallucinating weird wind wind windblow Tecson??? Oh! I think he is a pba player that I got a crush on during college ( my teenage years) ....What the fuck, am I hallucinating....Windblow...

11:21 pm

I'm having headache... windblow... I feel that I'm hallucinating...

#Youtube