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phantomphangphucker · 8 days

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Phic Phight - Dal′ton-izm

@tourettesdog

Danny should not be trusted with self care and clean up duty, especially if he couldn’t tell the goddamn difference between ectoplasm and blood.

Danny growls down into his arm, struggling a little to keep all the skin more or less together. Damn, he hated getting nastier injuries, it was always a freaking pain... literally and metaphorically. He’s busy using the other arm to fire off ecto-blasts and make shields to block the return fire. Stupid Skulker and his stupid homing missiles. Stupid ghosts destroying any sense of a normal fucking sleeping schedule. Ugh.

“I will wear you down eventually! And when I do! Then you’re mine!”.

Could he at least get some new lines? Danny snapping back, “tha oni ‘ay ya be owl ta cah eee ‘ine’ is ‘hen Ine ackin’ as a ‘and ‘ine fah ya!”. That wasn’t his best line and it was probably impossible to understand him, but his arm is in his mouth, so he’s kinda focused on things other than puns right now.

Skulker sends off another rocket at him, unsurprising. What is at least slightly surprising is that right when Danny puts up another shield Skulker gets shot by what’s borderline a freaking taser. Danny glancing down at a smirking Tuck peeking out around a corner and congratulating himself. Danny making quick work of capturing the ghost after that and landing on the ground with his arm still in his mouth. Sam popping out in a second and pointing at the ground aggressively.

“You better sit down or so help me”.

Man they were both always so aggressive about making sure he got patched up as quickly and cleanly as possible. It was both touching and annoying, sometimes he still had ghosts to chase! Or he just wanted to go to bed instead of dealing with being bandaged up or stitched or wiped down. Granted the stitching was usually a little more necessary, like it definitely was right now.

So he floats himself down to the ground, back against a wall and opening his mouth to let Sam inspect it and get to work doing patch up.

“Zone Danny, way to really fuck up your arm”.

Danny pouting, “hey blame Skulker, not me. I actually tried to protect myself pretty well I think, it’s not my fault he managed to spear a goddamn grappling hook through my arm”. The guy nearly took his arm off entirely with that shit, dumb jerk. Though that was probably part of the point since the dude wanted trophies and shit, he could absolutely see Skulker freaking mounting his arm on a wall or something.

Sam sighs, wiping his arm down overly thoroughly, “I know I know, it’s just a pain to clean up this level of damage and I’m allowed to worry about your dumbass; also, nice fang marks”.

“Worrying about my ass is fair, sitting on this hard ground is gonna make it go numb”. She smacks him over the head for that one before getting to work on the stitching.

Tuck’s off spraying some of the ecto mess on a wall, that dissolve crap Danny’s folks made works like a freaking charm, like well enough that he’d be legit worried they’re could get away with murder. All three going still for a second at the sound of a hover board, Danny turning him and Sam invisible while Tuck goes and crawls himself under a dumpster. Val/Red doesn’t do more than fly by at least, good. Danny grumbling quietly, “you know, if we didn’t stick around alleyways for cleaned up time, we wouldn’t have to worry about that so much”.

Tuck crawling himself out, whisper hissing, “dude, we can’t leave your mess everywhere. The other ghosts are one thing, you’re different”. Sam only huffing and working a little more quickly on her stitch work, it looked like she was nearly done at least and fuck is he glad his pain tolerance could solidly kick ass these days.

Danny whisper hissing back, “I don’t see how? Even if my parents, so called ghost experts, stumbled upon this, how would they even tell my stuff from any persons or ghosts stuff? My folks aren’t nearly thorough enough to take literally millions of samples”.

Sam pausing a little, “don’t be stupid”.

“I’m not being stupid. Like yes I’m sure stumbling across massive messes and stuff would be very upsetting for the towns folk but people have gotten used to weirder. I mean, I’ve overshadowed Jason, like, eight times now and the guy isn’t even surprised anymore”.

Tuck, scrubbing the edge of a newspaper stand, chuckles, “okay yeah that guy has terrible luck with you, didn’t you also accidentally set his water heater on fire?”, shaking his head and looking underneath the newspaper stand, “and it’s less about people freaking out and more about them wondering why there’s freaking human blood mixed in with the ecto”.

Okay now Danny just goddamn confused. Glancing around at what little remained of the mess as well as looking his -slightly messy again- arm over without moving it, “the heck you talking about? Everything’s glowing, why would anyone think any of this was human”.

“Okay sure, yeah, your human blood glows too but it’s clearly human blood, man”.

“No? It’s not?”. Literally the only difference between ghost ectoplasm and human blood was wether or not it glowed. If his human blood glowed then how would literally anyone know its wasn’t ectoplasm unless they went around sampling literally every drop they could find. Even then if some traces of human blood showed up in an ecto sample it could just be written off as freaking transfer or whatever.

Sam looks up at him like he’s stupid, while grabbing out the wrapping, her pausing at Danny pretty clearly looking goddamn legit confused. “Danny... are you seriously saying you can’t see a difference between your ‘mess’ and everything else?”; she sounds actually worried about him.

Well that was concerning, is he not seeing something they are? Because of the half dead thing? Sure, obviously goddamn dying changed his body, like duh, but he’d like to think he didn’t really lose anything a fully living human had. Or maybe it was because of the life long ecto-contamination? Danny shaking his head results in Tuck rubbing towels in some of the mess in different spots and holding it up at him with a head tilt.

Okay Danny’s going to guess that the towels, or the mess that’s on them anyways, look different to the guy. Still don’t to Danny... “if you’re trying to ask me if I think those towels look different from each other or something, they don’t”, tilting his own head, “how the heck do they look different to you?”.

Tuck drops his arms and the towels right on the ground, fully gapping at him, “dude”.

“Okay now you’re starting to worry me. They’ve both got a glowing mess on them so obviously ecto, the glow is literally the only difference between ecto and blood”.

Sam buries her head in her hands and actually starts laughing, “oh- oh my zone- no, Danny. Oh- ha!”.

“Sam stop laughing, damn it, you’re gonna make me laugh and this should be serious”, Tuck snickers a little anyways before clearing his throat, “Danny, man, Zone, how can you not tell they’re two completely different colours”.

Danny blinking owlishly, “what”. Tuck just losing it at that, sitting on his ankles and laughing into his hands. Wait a minute, Danny blurting out, “are you saying I’m fucking colourblind and just didn’t goddamn notice?!!?”. How???

Tuck wheezes a little more while Sam struggles to contain herself and actually clamp Danny’s wrapping in place. Tuck walking over while fiddling on his pda, shoving it in his face, “okay okay, we, ha, should definitely make sure this isn’t a half-dead thing”, wiggling the pda. “So what numbers in the circle?”.

Danny blinks at the screen. Oh damn it, screw him. There’s no damn number at all, he is so totally colour blind. Groaning and rubbing the hand that isn’t attached to an injured arm down his face, “ugh”.

“Well?”.

Danny sighing, “it’s just a circle, dude. Fuck my half life”. Rubbing his face some more as both of them snicker at him mockingly but also clearly in pure goddamn surprise. Well, at least it wasn’t a dead thing. Yay? Dropping his hand and then using it to gesture at the somewhat still there mess, “so all of this doesn’t look all the same?”.

Tuck laughs, shaking his head and then snorting, “no, man. It’s mostly ectoplasm, which is green by the way. But there’s also splatters and swirls of your human blood, which is red”, he chuckles again, “those two colours are about as different as yellow and black”.

Danny winces, okay so it was noticeable. Shit. Sam patting his shoulder, “you’re patched and at least now I know why you suck at cleaning and were always so lax about it. You would be so screwed without us”.

Okay that Danny can’t help laughing at himself, “oh yeah! my blood and ecto mix would have gotten found out in a month!”.

“Try three days, you combative little shit”.

Danny absolutely sticks his tongue out at Sam for that, but watching his two friends get up and start cleaning the area again; occasionally shaking their heads in disbelief or snickering some more. At least they usually didn’t try and make him help since he was usually supposed to be spending his time healing aka not moving around a ton. Tuck actually left him his precious pda so Danny fiddles with it looking up random colourblindness tests.

…

He doesn’t seem to have any other issues but he fails every red/green one horrifically. Even the ‘super easy’ ones. The universe must really goddamn hate him to make him extremely colourblind but literally only to basically his own blood/ecto. Stupid body, stupid eyes. Wait, him blurting out, “holy shit does this mean that Vlad doesn’t have the same eye colour as me?!?”.

Both of them burst out laughing and fall over each other, smacking each other and random things. Tuck wheezing, “NO!”. Sam snickering, “oh that is too good! I mean it’s sad but ho!”.

Danny sticking his arms out to the side, pda cradled in his lap, “but that means we have literally nothing in common physically? Who would want a son that looks zero percent like them?!?!?”. Their laughter only gets louder and eventually he’s laughing again too.

“What is going on here?”.

All three still, still goddamn laughing though because shit you can’t just stop that shit on a dime. Danny snorts, coming up with something on the fly before Red -fuck is her outfit even actually red????- decides to start shooting him, “I, ha, am apparently fucking colour blind and, ha, these two citizens decided to absolutely lay into me for not realsing there was human blood here”.

“I just flew through here! I thought someone got hurt and was looking for them! You jerk!”, she actually sits down on her board, “so this is how I find out that the only other remotely decent sorta coworker in this town can’t tell if something blood or ectoplasm. Zone that’s stupid and I hate it”.

Danny snorting while Sam and Tuck continue making half assed laughter-fuelled attempts to clean. “What? You gonna give me a way to beep you in case I ever stumble upon a mess again?”, and chuckles to himself.

She groans loudly, “i hate that that’s a good idea”. Which makes Danny bark a loud laugh, “oh man is being fucking colour blind what gets Red to stop ridding my ass! Ha!”, clearing his throat and tilting his head at her in a way he hopes looks puppy-like, “is your suit even red? I will whole ass admit to thinking you picked your colour because the ecto blended into it”.

He can tell she’s staring at him, “I’m going to kill you a second time, Phantom”.

“Been there, tried that. Do something more original”.

Red goes from glaring bloody murder at Danny to looking at the teens who’ve basically cleaned everything, meaning that Val won’t realise the RED human blood had been glowing. “Will you two care if I end the town menace?”.

Sam glares but is still too amused for there to be any real bite to it, “this is the funniest shit I’ve ran into all week don’t you dare sully that”. Tuck just giving an agreeing thumbs up while snickering and wiping off a storm drain.

Red sighing, “that’s fair”, pointing aggressively at Danny, “it is red and ectoplasm does not blend in, zone I hate you”, gesturing at random bits of wall and ground, “now is there an injured person or not?”.

All three shaking their heads immediately, Tuck giving the crappy excuse of, “bad nose bleed plus sudden ghosts plus face-planting into a wall. I’m fine”.

Red scowl could be heard in her voice, “good, now I’m going to bed”, her moving to fly off with a grumbled, “my suit was supposed to remind him and the town of my human blood, stupid ghost jerk”.

Okay fine that is hilarious, eventually Tuck comes over and gives him a high five, “congrats on not getting shot”. Sam shakes her head, “I’m more impressed she’s chilled out even remotely”, pointing at both boys, “but you know that excuse will never work again, right?”.

Danny blinking and smirking, “so what you’re saying is I should start being super cautious and just constantly send photos of murky liquid for a colour check?”.

“As much as I have no problem with you filling my phone with gore, I don’t want the cops to one day question me about that”.

Tuck elbows her, “eh I can set up a fully secure time deletion. Start lowkey stealing all snapchats users after I release it on the masses”.

Danny stretching and swatting Tuck one, “that sounds like you’re attempting to take over the world big brother eye in the sky style”.

“I totally could”.

Sam rolling her eyes, “I don’t even disagree”, her glancing around before nodding to herself, “looks like we’ve dealt with everything. How’s the arm?”.

Danny gives the limb a shake before grinning, “healed as fast as ever. And no seepage on the bandages so no, you don’t need to redo it”.

She puts her hands on her hips, “i don’t think you should ever be the judge of that. But fine, I guess it looks fine. Meaning we should get outta here before someone changes their mind”.

“Yeah yeah yeah”, rubbing his neck, glancing around, and changing back human. Eyeing his arm for changes and shrugging when he doesn’t see any olive murky liquid, “is my blood always a weird mix of colours?”.

Tuck patting his shoulder as they all begin to move out of the alley, “yeah, hence why we always try to hide you or cover it all the time. Did you just think we were being weirdos?”.

Danny rubbing his neck and glancing around, “I mean, yeah? More overprotective than weird”. They both shake their heads and chuckle at him and his generally stupidity.

In the future Danny did absolutely become just as cautious of others seeing his blood as his friends were, much to their relief and amusement.

End.

Prompt: Danny is red-green colorblind. This never caused him much trouble before the accident, but now, well... It would have been nice to know beforehand that his blood was the wrong color.

#danny phantom #phandom #phicphight24 #phic phight 24 #danny fenton #tucker foley #sam manson #phantomphangphucker #have a fic suck my dick #my writing #gothmoth #valerie gray #Danny's a dumbass #blood and injury #colorblindness #colorblind danny

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the-last-f2p · 3 months

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Yandere Kunikida domino effect

Hey guys :P This is silly but

TW: Obsessiveness, kidnapping

Kunikida is the type of yandere to plan every single aspect of your and his life together like if Dazai looks a bit too forward in his schedule he'll see creepy shit like me and Y/N get married TヘT And then after throwing Dazai in the mix, he would totally bully Kunikida for it. Dazai can't just be like call the police he ,despite me also mischacterising him sometimes as the skrunkly, is mentally fucked. So he just decides to pretend to be attachted to you. But of course it back fires and now he can't go two seconds without you So obviously Atsushi is going to get invovled since that's his mentor lol. And he's just trying his hardest to get Dazai to focus on anything that isn't you. I mean he was aware Dazai was doing it as a way to annoy Kunikida but now.. Atsushi's not so so sure. And then Akutagawa see's Dazai clinging onto you with the "If you leave me I will kill myself" mentality and immediatly thinks okay Dazai-san likes this person so if I study them for every waking he'll like me. Thus Akutagawa starts stalking you. Atsushi and Higuchi soon follow Akutagawa's footstep as well. Chuuya soon meets you as he thought Dazai was alone and came to fight him and he thinks it's love at first sight so now he's started the 'Make Y/N join the port mafia' movement. And Gin joins solely to see why Akutagawa is making a huge fuss about you. She see's after a couple of weeks and is now fully commited to the movement . Tachihara is confused to say the least but he won't even think about you for a little while. And you know what? Fuck it. Throw Verlaine in the mix he comes out of hiding and joins the MYJTPF (Make Y/N join the port mafia). Now we circle back to the ADA where fights between Kunikida and Dazai have broke out and now there are two sides. A) Dazai should back off Kunikida Kenji Katai Yosano B) Kunikida should back off Dazai Atsushi Kyouka Junichiro and Naomi Ranpo and Fukuzawa remain indifferent. Ranpo deduced that none of them have a healthly liking to you long ago anyway. Kyouka and Kenji are so confused. Why is everyone fighting over this? I guess I'll go on this side because my friends are agreeing with this dude. But after two hours hiding in the break room with you while Kunikida is ripping Dazai apart they're both like parent? Paarent.. And Kenji moves to team B because fun dad over strict. Even if Kyouka and Kenji are your biggest supporters you're kind of limited to what you can talk to them about because y'know child so you start to confide in Yosano and BOOM yandere. Don't ask how there's still things I'm figuring out. Most of the ADA -Katai and Ranpo are yandere. Mori is now sat there wondering where the hell did all my employees go. As soon as they figure out you're the root of the problem but not really but technically no victim blaming here guys. Mori decides to just kidnap you and use you as leverage for Dazai re-joining the mafia

Distingushied readers, this is the phenomanon that I shall call the Yandere Kunkida domino effect.

#does this count as a brainrot? Cause it's long enough to be a fic lol #yandere bsd #yandere #yandex #yande.re

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quintenrosenburgwrites · 5 months

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mirren sketches >:)

lyrics are from Mixed Messages and Red Flags btw

OH ALSO i wrote some dialogue stuff, see under the read more! warning for some humor that's way more nsfw than i'd usually post (i mean. come on. it's dialtown. they're awkward as hell. they're obviously gonna say something questionable /lh) also some more serious stuff (self hate issues, depression, anxiety)

Nice/Fun stuff:

- They say pretty much everything that comes to mind, and once they get a train of thought it doesn't take long for it to derail and crash through a small community, leaving a trail of destruction behind it. TLDR they're really rambly.

"Birthdays are kinda weird. Like obviously there's the whole counting down to your death thing, but also, like. You're basically celebrating the anniversary of you getting evicted from your mom's, uh. You know. Okay that sounded REALLY, extremely, UNCOMFORTABLY Freudian. Can we PLEASE pretend I never said that? Thanks. Oh, right, the murder case."

- They have a tendency to just accept things and move on without commenting further.

"Oh. You lay eggs. Anyways, can you help me break into the ticket booth? I need to check the entry records."

- They're a fucking dork /pos (They're really sweet, but in a convoluted way)

"I, uh, please don't think this is weird, but I made characters for both of us! This one's named May, and they're kinda a failure. They failed their parents, they failed their old best friend, they failed their job. They used to think they had no redeeming qualities. Then, one day, they meet the other character, Ginger. Ginger seems terrifying initially, and even if it isn't obvious at first, they're not actually human. Ginger and May go on a journey in which May tries to learn magic in order to protect people and redeem themself for their past actions, even though they despise the idea of learning magic, but, eventually... Ginger helps them see their own value, helps May see that they're a person too. They are allowed to be selfish sometimes, they're just as worthy of happiness as anyone else. And, uh, maybe... Maybe that saved their life a bit. And maybe, May is allowed to do things for themself sometimes. Ginger means a whole lot to May, even if they have trouble expressing it, and... uh, I guess that's everything. Um. What do you think?"

Serious, bad stuff:

- They see very little value in themself, and tend to expect others to insult or make fun of them. To combat this, they typically are quick to insult themself, in an attempt to get there before anybody else can. It hurts less if they're the one saying it.

"And before you say it! I know it's super annoying when people are constantly insulting themselves, cause like it comes off as compliment seeking, right? I promise that's not what I'm trying to do, I'm just kinda trying to warn you I guess? But, uh, that's still no excuse, and I can totally just shut up if you want! Or, wait, I shouldn't have assumed it's annoying you, I could just be restating what you're thinking? I mean, the things I'm saying about myself aren't exactly incorrect- Just, let me know if I'm being annoying. I'd rather shut up than annoy you, haha. ha. Wow, that sounded fake."

- They tend to blame everything on themself, and act very self destructively.

"Oh god, this is all my fucking fault, I'm so sorry. It's okay if you hate me- or, no, you SHOULD hate me! Fuck, I'm- Why did you even talk to me in the first place?! Do you realize- If you just- You would've been better off if you just walked past me and ignored me! I need to- This is for your wellbeing, being around me is only gonna make things worse for you. I'll be fine, just- Don't follow me. I mean, I don't know why you would in the first place."

- They put everyone else before themself.

"I need to make it up to them, even if I ruin my life in the process. It's not like my life was looking particularly bright in the first place, which is entirely my own fault, so, y'know. Yeah."

#fanart #dialtown #dialtown fanart #dialtown oc #oc #mirren dialtown #oliver dialtown #oliver swift #dialtown oliver #phonegingi #dialtown phonegingi #dialtown phone dating sim #tw: depression #tw: anxiety

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skaylanphear · 6 months

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The Marauders

Summary: Heading to Hogwarts for the first time, Remus tries not to let his worries get him down. He has a lot on his plate—truths he can’t share with anyone—and none of it is helped by the bullies constantly casting jinxes and calling him nasty names. Despite it all, though, he has his three best friends—the first friends he’s ever made, in fact.

Yet, it doesn’t take long for Sirius to start getting suspicious, questioning what strange sickness could be keeping Remus in the hospital wing for days at a time. Ever nosy, Sirius takes it upon himself to unravel the mystery that is Remus Lupin, unaware of the tortured consequences that come with knowing such an intimate secret.

A story about the Marauders as they navigate their school years and set off into adulthood.

Year One: The Marauders and the Shrieking Shack - Chapters 1-34 Year Two: The Marauders and the Counting Curse - Chapters 35-?

Start Reading Here

Chapter 14: Three Apologies

Remus was a bit "off" the rest of the week. He was quiet and distant and very unsure. But he did eventually agree to the terms that they could send his parents letters so long as they didn't mention his issue directly. He also got to read them before they were sent out. It was following this decision that he started to slowly return to his normal self. Sirius also had to wonder if being further out from the last full moon helped in putting him back into better sorts. The new moon was at the end of the week—on the last day before they left for holiday—which put him right in the middle of his cycle. Sirius had decided to call this the "sweet spot"—where Remus was most recovered and least tetchy.

"I hope this is good enough," James muttered one evening, the four of them sitting around in their dormitory. Remus was up on his bed, practicing the permanent sticking charm, while the rest of them sat on the floor working on their letters to his parents.

"Lemme read it," Sirius said and held his hand out to James. Looking nervous, James handed over his parchment:

Mr. and Mrs. Lupin,

While we have met before, I would like to reintroduce myself. My name is James Henry Potter and I am best friends with your son. We met on the train to Hogwarts and are both Gryffindors, so of course we are very close. Just as we are close with both Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew. But they are writing their own letters, so I will not talk much about them.

Before I talk about the main reason I am writing this letter, I would like to say sorry for Remus always getting detentions. Remus is very smart and sometimes quiet, but I think he would be more quiet if Sirius and I were not so rowdy. Remus is also rowdy, but he might not be if we were better about being good students. I blame myself and Sirius for some of his bad behavior. But he is also a very good friend and gets in trouble with us because it is the right thing to do. Remus would never leave us to be in trouble alone and I think that is very good of him.

Now to the reason for this letter. Earlier this month, Sirius, Peter, and I made a very bad choice and decided to follow Remus to the hospital wing when he was starting to get sick. We have always been worried about him, but we are very good at getting into trouble. When we got to the hospital wing, we heard both of you, Professor McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey talking. And when Remus and Madam Pomfrey left, we were very bad and decided to follow them. We followed them all the way to the special area and when Madam Pomfrey came back, we went down into the place we are not supposed to go. When we got all the way to the other side, we found out what we should not have found out and we are very sorry. It is also because we were there that Remus got hurt extra bad and we are also very sorry for that. We did not know better and we were being very nosy. Remus was very mad at us and I think is still mad a little bit.

I want to say that even though we know the thing we should not know, we will not tell anyone. This is my letter, so I will say that I will not tell anyone. My mum and dad have always said that certain things are not fair that should be and I know that certain kinds of people have a very hard time. I would not want any of my friends to have a hard life or for their parents to get in trouble. Remus is still mad, like I said before, and I think does not really trust us about his secret yet, but I promise on my own life that I will never tell anyone. Not even my parents. I am a Gryffindor and I think being true to friends is a very important thing. Remus is the second friend I have ever had (I met Sirius first) and I would never betray his confidence.

I hope this letter makes you feel better and I am also very sorry again.

Best,

James Henry Potter

Sirius nodded and handed it back. "I think it's good," he replied, shuffling his own parchment around a bit. Mostly in the hopes that the other two wouldn't look too hard at it.

#harry potter #marauders #wolfstar #jily #remus #sirius #james potter #peter pettigrew #remus lupin #sirius black

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starlitangels · 3 months

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Campfire Songs

Pre-romance. Listen, I was raised by a guitarist. Certain things have to happen when we go camping 2.0k words

—

"Oh—my God!" Elliott exclaimed, swatting at the air. "I swear if I get one more mosquito bite I'm going to lose it."

"I told you to put on bug spray."

"I did, sunshine! It doesn't matter to them!"

I laughed. "Well, you can't blame them for finding you delicious," I retorted. "What was it you said to me a couple weeks ago? You're a... mm... 'legit snack' or something?"

"Shut up," he muttered, dragging his camp chair closer to the fire in hopes that the smoke would drive off the mosquitos. I kept laughing. He rolled his eyes.

We sat by the fire as the last of the sun's rays vanished from the sky, plunging the woods into complete darkness.

Elliott got up from his chair. "Now that it's officially nighttime, it's time for the one last surprise," he said.

I watched him leave the ring of firelight in the direction of his car, my eyebrows scrunched.

He returned with a long, black leather case. Distinctly-shaped. He sat down again and set the case gently on the ground, starting to undo the buckles.

"I didn't know you play guitar," I said.

He shrugged. "I don't play often. My..." He cleared his throat. "My brother taught me how. Our dad had a guitar that he never used. When he died..." Another shrug. "Aaron kinda took custody of it. He taught himself. Then taught me the older I got. Once I was big enough to wrap my hand around the neck." He pulled the acoustic out of its case by the neck and slung the strap over his head, tucking it under his other arm. "I had to learn how to play right-handed though. Because Aaron's right-handed. And it was too much of a hassle to restring the guitar for my left-handedness every time he taught me." A faraway look passed over Elliott's face. "I think he still has Dad's. Took it with him to Dahlia when he moved out for college." He cleared his throat and shook his head. "I learned how to play left-handed after I bought my own guitar." He smiled sadly. "And it kinda feels more natural, but it's also not what I'm used to."

He tuned the guitar, keeping one ear toward the body of it, as he twisted the tuning pegs.

"You can tune by ear?" I asked.

"Eh. Kinda. I'd rather tune by ear than have one of the little tuning things clamped onto my guitar's head, telling me what to do." He laughed, and I joined in. "Not perfect, but I make do."

"You should bring that to my parents' place sometime. My dad would love to jam with you."

He scoffed. "And embarrass myself in front of a professional? No thanks."

"Eli," I chided. "You know my dad. He's not like that. He'll be so proud of you just because you're playing at all."

"Well why don't you play?"

"Oh, he tried to teach me. But he's so good and natural at it that he couldn't understand why I was struggling so hard. So ultimately it just never happened. We both got too frustrated with the other." I chuckled. "Still a good memory, though."

That faraway look flitted across Elliott's face again, his violet eyes unfocusing. "Your dad knows I admire him a lot, right?"

"My dad sees you like his own son, Eli," I returned. "He knows."

Elliott chuckled and started plucking out a simple pick pattern. “Your dad is a good guy, sunshine.”

“I think he’s personally offended on the grounds of dadhood that your dad was such an ass,” I remarked. “And he’s determined to dad you better.”

Elliott laughed. “That’s not hard. The bar is already so low it’s a tripping hazard in Hell.”

I burst out laughing. “Well. My dad will raise it for you. He’s the kind of dad that little kids who aren’t comfortable with stranger adults like immediately. He’s just got friend energy. Or dad energy. Like. My neighbor’s granddaughter doesn’t like adult men at all. She was pretty isolated her first couple years of life due to a sickness and never got exposed to many people. She loved my dad immediately at a neighborhood barbecue and was attached to him all night. Her mom was amazed. It was cute.”

Elliott smiled. “I don’t doubt any of that. Including the raising the bar thing.” He shifted his fingers on the guitar’s neck and started a different pick pattern. A particularly famous one. I smiled. “Come on, sunshine. Let me hear that voice of yours.”

I smirked and cleared my throat. “I close my ey-eyes. Only for a moment—and the moment’s gone…” I sang. Elliott’s eyes immediately closed. A small grin tilting the corners of his handsome mouth. “All my dreams… pass before my eyes a curiosity.” I paused for the music cue. “Dust in the wind… All they are is dust in the wind…”

Elliott joined me on the harmony. “Same old so-o-ong… Just a drop of water in an endless sea… all we do… crumbles to the ground though we refuse to see… dust in the wind. All we are is dust in the wi-i-ind… ahhh-ah-ah.”

We smiled and swayed gently as he kept picking at the guitar strings. Most of Dust in the Wind was that same pick pattern.

The musical interlude passed and I picked up the next verse. "Now. Don't hang o-on... Nothin' lasts forever but the earth and sky... it slips awa-ay—and all your money won't another minute buy-yyy..."

Elliott grinned at me.

We sang the whole song while Elliott played, just snickering between lyrics. Then moved on to a different song, and another, and another. We went on until night had well and truly fallen. The last few shafts of sunlight vanished and inky black-blue overtook it.

When there was a high sky of thousands of stars overhead and we'd gone through every camping song my dad used to play on these trips, he took a deep breath and sighed. "Time for bed, sunshine?"

I pursed my lips and nodded. "I think so."

He slung the guitar strap off over his head and started to gently tuck the guitar into its case. He handled it with such gentle care. For a single, quick flash, a fantasy shot through my head of his long fingers cradling the back of my neck with the same tenderness as his guitar neck as he kissed me.

Ohhh no, no, no. Shut it down, moron, I thought sharply. Elliott is your Best Friend. Nothing more. No more of those thoughts. No kissing.

We got up from our camp chairs. "You go brush your teeth and get ready," I said. "I'll put out the campfire."

He gave me a sarcastic salute. "Yes, captain."

I flipped him off as he walked off to the tiny public bathrooms down the parking lot from the campsite. He laughed and stuck his tongue out before disappearing behind a tree. I rolled my eyes and started to shovel some dirt and sand onto the fire to smother the flames. Elliott would probably be back before I got finished. I considered staying out in my camp chair until he went to sleep in the tent before turning in myself.

Sometimes I wondered if it was just me, or if Elliott noticed the way our gazes lingered on one another. If he noticed the way he touched me slow and gentle, and I did the same for him. We'd become such good friends in such a short amount of time. It felt like he'd always known me, and yet I'd only met him last week. I'd already memorized most of his details. The strange violet hue to his eyes. The tiny nick of a scar on his lower lip from tripping and hitting a sprinkler head as a child. The birthmark on the bone of his wrist that he tended to hide under his leather bracelets. That one dirty blond curl in the middle of his forehead that hung looser than all the others. The exact shape his lopsided smile took when he was up to no good.

I wondered if he memorized things about me. If he'd taken pieces of me and woven them into his heart the way I'd done for him.

Elliott returned while I was still putting out the fire. But instead of turning in and going to sleep, he stayed out with me and helped me finish up.

We turned in. We'd borrowed my parents' five-person tent, our sleeping pads—not full air mattresses—and sleeping bags jammed into opposite corners, with our bags scattered about the middle. Elliott's guitar case joined the clutter.

"Goodnight, sunshine."

"G'night, Elliott."

—

Several Hours Later...

—

I hadn't stopped shivering since I got in the sleeping bag, huddled up on myself, even in my thick pajamas. I just could not get warm. Goosebumps covered my skin and my toes were numb in my socks. I'd tried everything I could think of to warm up, and none of it lasted.

"Psst! Eli!" I hissed, just to see if he was awake.

I heard him make a noise of confusion. "Mm—wha? Sunshine?" He sounded groggy.

"Are you cold?" I asked.

He smacked his lips in thought. "Not really." He sighed as though about to fall back to sleep. Then a sharp rustle of fabric showed him sitting up across the tent. The moonlight through the trees and tent canvas plenty enough to make out his silhouette. "Why? Are you okay?"

"I'm freezing!"

He swore under his breath. "I'm so sorry. I thought you'd be warm enough."

"I'm trying. I just don't have a lot of heat to hold in."

A long silence broken only by the noise of the wilderness stretched between us.

Then Elliott's sleeping bag unzipped. "C'mon. Come share with me."

"What?"

"I'm not going to let you get hypothermia. We're adults. We can be mature about this. Just come share my warmth, yeah?"

I thought about it. "Don't tell anyone about this."

"Of course not."

I slipped out of my sleeping bag and dodged across the tent as fast as humanly possible, letting Elliott welcome me into his. I burrowed down, relishing the warmth that he'd already filled it with, but trying not to touch him. No matter how much I wanted to.

If I let myself touch him, I'd never be able to get enough ever again.

He scooted back down beside me, that crooked smile visible in the darkness. "Better?"

"Mmhmm," I grumbled.

"Can I have your hands?"

"Sorry. I can't detach them from my wrists."

He scoffed in a way that sounded like he was rolling his eyes. "Let me see your hands, sunshine," he insisted.

I shuffled enough to hold them closer to him. He took each of mine in his own. His were warm, throwing my frigid skin into sharp contrast.

He hissed and swore. "You weren't kidding. You are freezing. Come here." Before I could protest, he'd let go of my hands and pulled me flush against him, holding my head to his chest.

I could have cried in relief at his body heat.

"Thank you, Eli," I whispered.

"Of course, sunshine."

I was so exhausted from shivering that I slipped into sleep within moments.

And I dreamt of Elliott. That crooked smile lit by firelight and his curls shining in the light of thousands of stars overhead. Plucking at his guitar strings and sitting on a picnic table in an open field with a fire pit right there, while I sat on the bench of the table near his leg, looking up at him. Singing old rock songs together like there was no one else in the world to see us but each other.

—

Tag list: @pinksparkl

#my husband is a mosquito magnet i had to start this that way lol #Redacted ASMR #fic #Redacted Elliott #Redacted Sunshine #Redacted Audio #Starlit Fic

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silas-png · 7 months

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trauma dump? ig? idk anymore im too tired for this

FOR CONTEXT: I'm a minor-- I will not say what exact age out of privacy reasons-- and going through a conflicting time for myself. I would like opinions, honest opinions if you have the time to read this essay of a trauma dump. If you don't want to, scroll past, by all means.

I really just want to know what's going on. I've looked it up on Google and researched several websites and from my experiences, it seems like it could be psychological trauma/ abuse, or parental manipulation, but that's just a guess. I, unfortunately, cannot seek professional help solely because I don't want my parents to treat me worse because of them finding out about my accusations.

---

Can parents support your gender identity and still be homophobic in action towards you? 'Cause like, my parents and family use my chosen name and chosen pronouns, but my parents tend to often gaslight me and/ or manipulate me(saying things along the lines of "I guess I'm just a bad parent", "You're only saying sorry to yourself" and never apologizing for their actions or taking the time to say the simple word of 'sorry')-- this all started after I came out-- and have never believed a word I say. They also place blame on me for things I didn't do sometimes and often bring up past events or faults that I have simply because. On top of this-- and a part that I honestly understand-- my parents do not allow me access to gender-affirming care or hormone-blocking pills. This is because I live in a homophobic state, but the only off thing about this is I have a friend who's trans and taking the Big T and hormone blockers, and he's not an adult.

On the topic of being trans-- or just LGBTQ+ in general-- my parents did not believe me at first. They thought I was being influenced by my transgender cousin, and straight up told me that I was wrong about myself. Then, after I came out as trans to them, they started to take me more seriously-- solely because of the situation in which I came out the second time. Which was them finding out I was self-harming-- it was a whole thing, they both found out I was doing that and was trans that day. funny story, actually, i still have trauma from that day.

My parents tend to blame all of my actions on my being a teenager and blame all of their actions on the fact that I'm a teenager. My parents also have the tendency to shrug off all of my mental health problems. For example-- and for those uncomfortable with the topic of sh, please skip past this to the next paragraph-- I used to self-harm for a couple years-- from ages 12-13/14. My parents found out twice and both times they did nothing. The second time I got a firm scolding from my mom, and my dad was disappointed. Since then they have never bothered to check up on how I'm doing mentally, or even bothered to care, for that matter.

My younger brother-- who's 11-- has become more aggressive in words towards me and very often finds some random reason to tear down my self-esteem-- knowing it's already low-- and he used to use my dead name as a form of making fun of me. As well as this, he's gained a sort of god complex over me. He seems to think that he's better than me, and it confuses me. He also does this then acts like nothing happened when my parents walk by, and he gets away with it. However, as soon as I make a jab at him, he's sobbing for my parents or straight up screaming insult after insult at me.

Also, for the record, my parents treat him better than they treat me because he's emotionally sensitive and I'm a bit of a bottler when it comes to emotions. However, they also treat him with more attention because he has an abundance of medical problems, but because of this they treat me like dogwater and him almost like the golden child. So, I want to know, am I just being jealous and/ or overreacting, or is this actually a problem?

#transgender #trans problems #childhood trauma #please help #what do i do #i think this is a cry for help but idk anymore #god help me im so tired

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rafecameronsslxt · 1 year

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How Come

Polo Benavent x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

Warnings: Smut and hair pulling

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Does anyone even watch Elite anymore? This was really short also, should've been working on my obx fan fictions, but didn't. oops.

Honestly don't expect much from this either, but like I'm in love with this man.

His bright blue eyes laid on my vibrant hazel ones like I was the only thing in the world despite Polo always seeming to hate me, but it went both ways. I don’t think I could ever hate someone like Polo, a caring and dependable person. It wasn’t always like this; Tension and heartache lingered between each other, which made our friends uncomfortable at moments.

At one point, this beautiful man stood beside me. Not in front of me or across while his eyes wandered over my body. The memories of that awful night start to taint this evening, full of laughs and all of us being humane to one another for once.

I was dancing with Marina, our bodies swaying to the beat, while Guzmán, our brother, was having drinks with Ander and Polo. Sometimes I didn’t understand how Polo or Guzmán had still been friends after Guzman decided Polo needed a good beating for hurting me. Polo had a swollen eye and approached a broken nose after going to a doctor forced by his parents. My parents had a fit, blaming the fight on me and lecturing me about how this fight could ruin our reputation when no one besides Sam had been there.

Marina noticed my energy shift. “A, this is our night, not his to ruin, come on. lighten up.” My sister's radiant smile could cheer anyone up, and it did. She gave me hope with her bright red hair, which was different from any other in our family, and occasionally concerned me. I nodded my head as she took my hands, spun me around and had me giggling again. It never took much to cheer me up when it came to my sister. She just knew the right buttons to push.

After an hour of chatting and dancing with my friends, I decided to freshen up in my bathroom, away from everyone as I started feeling suffocated.

I adorned my face with powder and stared at myself for a minute. I wore a champagne satin silk dress with a cowl neckline, which fit perfectly and cost hundreds, yet I didn’t feel happy. As an elite teenager, drama surrounded me, couldn’t stay away. He wouldn’t stay away, either.

“How come you always run away?” Polo’s voice rings throughout my room as if the timing couldn’t be worse. “Maybe you shouldn’t follow me. It gets creepy after a while, Polo.” My tone is cold, like his stare. Polo always had a callous gaze that scared me, but after knowing him, I stopped caring.

He analyzes me for a moment. His eyes landed on my lips and then on me in general.

“What will it take? I miss you, I love you, and I’m sorry.” Polo is pleading with me yet again. “You have said sorry so many times, Polo. Just stop it.” I couldn’t look into his eyes with my hands in his. His lips delicately pressed to my hands and jawline, too close to my lips. I push him away.

A loud knock comes from the locked door. “Are you coming out anytime soon? Ander needs you.” Guzmán loudly says while trying to open the door. “Yes, I’ll be out in a minute.” With that answer, the other side goes quiet.

I look at Polo, but he quickly picks me up and lays me on the bed. His body hovers over mine. Polo kisses me. I can’t help but miss him, us. “I can’t do this.” I put my hands on his chest, stopping him. Polo sighs. His forehead presses to mine. “Just give me another chance, baby. I promise I’ll be different this time.” Polo flips us over so that I’m directly sitting on his crotch. I can feel how hard he is. A calculated move considering he knows I won’t leave, not this time. “Do anything you want to me. Fuck me until you're not sad.” His voice is raspy and a seductive whisper.

I start rolling my hips on his slowly. “Take your shirt off,” I order, and he obliges. I glide my hands over his stomach, missing his body that was supposed to be mine. I lean down and kiss him softly while his dick rubs against my clit, making me moan away from the kiss.

Right now, I didn’t want any more foreplay. I wanted only Polo. I unbuttoned his pants and threw his boxer briefs onto the hardwood floor. “Undress me.” Oh, how I've desired this moment.

His soft hands slid down the silk straps, exposing my perky nipples. A little smirk falls onto his mouth as my dress slides off and pools to the ground. His hands find their way, grabbing my breasts and rubbing my nipples between his fingers. I slide his dick inside me, fitting perfectly like we never broke up.

“You like this. Taking control, having me all to yourself.” Polo mumbles, sucking on my neck, leaving purple marks to show I’ll forever be his. I nod fucking myself onto him, and feel his hands grab my hips, helping me go quicker. Moans fall from my lips as Polo starts doing all the work, thrusting into me mercilessly.

I run my hands through his black hair and pull hard at the roots. A smile forms on his lips, and he starts grunting. “Oh my god, don’t stop!” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, and I could feel euphoria washing over me. Polo’s thrusts get sloppier, and ropes of his cum cover my velvety walls.

I untangle my fingers from his hair, my lips part, and breathing heavily. Just before I get off Polo, he pulls me in for a long passionate kiss. I smile into the kiss, feeling like things might turn out well this time.

#polo benavent #polo benavent smut #polo benavent elite #elite netflix #elite polo #elite cast #smut

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etherealsign282 · 5 months

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People can have a good life and still be depressed, suffering from trauma/mental illnesses, etc

You don't get to determine that you're more mentally ill or more broken than someone who has bounced back from all the hell they've been through, just because you refuse to keep yourself afloat for some self-prophesized martyrdom

I don't think "Everyone reacts to mental illness differently" was ever an excuse for being a bully or terrible person, because being an abuser has nothing to do with being mentally ill. But it is a tool to help people UNDERSTAND why some may stand with a broken leg, and others fall apart over a sprained ankle, and with everything else in between.

And we should be holding space for both, but not by letting them walk all over everybody else and direct the mental health community like they know best. Or by making it seem that some can play the victim more out of anybody when they screw up, because realistically they have refused every opportunity given to them to heal, because being mentally broken is comforting for them, vs other people finding comfort in growth. The comfort to pretty much be a dick is a reason, not an excuse. As in, it explains the behavior, but it doesn't mean you can bypass consequences or accountability due to it. You're still pretty much a dick.

I'm going to sympathize with the fact that you can't seem to get your life on track, I sympathize with the fact that you can't seem to figure out how to cope and heal, I sympathize that you'd rather shroud yourself in misery, but I'm also not going to let you tell me that I only made it this far because i must not be as broken as you, because everyone reacts differently. (And again, reacting differently doesn't excuse shitty behavior, nor does it excuse you to dismiss someone else's mental illnesses).

I made it because I made myself strong, despite my trauma. I didn't have the opportunity or the golden ticket to wake up and just one day do everything I needed to do. I pushed myself, with a lot of tears, panic attacks, thoughts of giving up, to put it short. And if you think I wasn't suffering when I had to do what I had to do, to not be a sludgy ball of self deprecating, self victimized goop, you haven't even begun trying to take the first steps.

And you know what, that's your prerogative. Because everyone copes or reacts differently. But not being able to do it is not because "the mental illness is so much more powerful than everybody else's so pity me and don't feel good about yourself".

Idk how y'all can look people in the eyes and say that when you don't know what they've been through, or how severe their struggles are. Some people be fighting demons and it's "my parents divorced when I was 10 and I was never forgiven for cheating on my girlfriend" and letting it destroy their entire world, then comparing it to abuse, trafficking, kidnapping, assault, homelessness, schizophrenia, BPD, NPD, anxiety, PTSD, literally anything and everything without knowing, and claiming that that person isn't as fxcked in the head because they managed to move past it.

Again it's your prerogative to react how you want to react, everyone reacts differently.

(Again doesn't excuse it if its abusive, but). But like, a lot of y'all wanna take the credit for when you do something great despite the mental illnesses, bc it's you and your accomplishments, but can't take the responsibility when you cripple yourself, and would rather discredit everybody else as just not being mentally ill enough to validate yourself when you react poorly. It's kinda gross, the double standard. Not everything negative = mental illness while everything positive = you (sometimes y'all got people doing everything for you). Why does that just sound like a rehashed form of Christians blaming everything bad on satan, and praising God for everything good, no matter what? It's all just been rehashed forms of lacking accountability or lacking awareness since the beginning.

#toxic #mental abuse #mental health #mental illness #abuse survivor #mental health community

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freedom-barricades-bighero16 · 10 hours

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Chronicle of Abuse v2

Hey guys... I need help.

I've been thinking about what kind of a person my sister really is, whether all this is just sibling rivalry or she's actually been abusing me for years. I've talked to many counsellors, support staff and my therapists but they don't seem to have an answer. Maybe you'll know the better terminology to describe her behaviour and I'll let you be the judge.

When we were toddlers

Has hit me before.

Has sent me a threatening note. She even explained what it meant to me: She is allowed to hit me (repeated three times) and she is allowed to scream at me.

She abandons me whenever her friends / my older cousin comes along.

Always made me play the bad guy in our games, or in my drawings.

When we were children

Again with the threats. She threatened to tattle to our mum by using a "special device" to send her notes, and I was petrified because she would scream at me instead of disciplining me properly.

Slammed me against a wall once during a fight. I cried and my parents asked her what did she do, and she said that she did nothing.

When she first went to middle school, her own bullies got worse so she kind of took it out on me (can't really blame her for that)

Started creating some really weird stories. When I expressed that I'm uncomfortable with them, she gets angry and I have to pretend that I liked them.

Jumped out into the road many times just to avoid a dog, and throws a tantrum every time she sees one (which is a lot). You have no idea how much her dog phobia traumatized me

Sometimes says I'm not allowed to do certain things while doing the same things herself.

Told me many times that our parents are spoiling me and that I'm an entitled little brat, and she would get very upset if Mum and Dad finally agreed to get me something but she didn't have the same exact thing. In fact, now when I get something for myself, I'm kind of still dreading her throwing a fit.

After Mum almost divorced Dad over not having a cake for her birthday, my sister threatened that she would throw a tantrum like Mum did if she doesn't have a cake for her birthday. (She told me this when we're alone, I think. I forgot if Dad was present too)

My Dad has told her to not scream at me many times, but she never listened to him.

When we were teens

If I told my parents that I'm disagreeing with what my sister said (I often had to whisper), she would get really close to my face and GROWL.

We went to the same primary school and were both bullied by our classmates. When I cry, my sister tends to just tell me to shut up.

She got into Harry Potter and Game of Thrones for a bit, continuing on the weird stories. She would also read out the books in an accent that sounds more like English (which personally, I found very pretentious). I couldn't leave or she'll yell at me.

She tried to pressure me into dating boys when I came out as bi, and was very dismissive and asked me if I'm making everything related to LGBTQ+ when I came out to her as gay, and tried to adopt a more butch look.

Technically this doesn't count as affecting me, but there was a time where my sister wanted a manga but my Dad said no, so she threw another tantrum until he finally bought it for her.

She literally said "You're not allowed to treat me like this" when I'm unhappy with her. It happened a few times I think.

Demanding me to take a post down on my social media if it had swear words.

She would scream at Smokey like she did with me whenever he bit her (basically, being a typical baby kitten). I told her to not do that, her response was "What else can I do apart from screaming?"

When we are adults / Present day/ Ongoing

The transphobia. She once told me that she has heard of trans people saying that what Rowling said isn't transphobic, but now I'm pretty sure she was lying to me.

Constant, overt anti-Chinese racism. This happened after I told her her rants about dogs in the family chat are making me very uncomfortable.

Just being dismissive to literally anything that has to do with me, even when I'm trying to warn her about a cryptocurrency scam that I almost fell victim to.

So, there you have it. That's as much as I can think of right now.

I've heard from some friends that my sister might be a narcissist, while my parents often told me she has a lack of awareness of things/inertia and that she's very blunt in general. It almost felt like they're letting her get away with the stuff she did.

I've been trying to find support for dealing with a possibly abusive sibling, but I don't seem to find anything. I need your help. Please. I don't know what to do.

#abuse tw #alex speaks #help me out please

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shecomesincolors · 9 months

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Tagged by @britneyshakespeare nearly a month ago! Thank you, my dear, and apologies, as usual, for both the delay and the positively deranged length of my replies.

1. Are you named after anyone? Yes, I am! My namesake was my father’s granny, who raised him as a little boy while his parents finished medical school. The senior Helena lived to be 90 and I met her many times when I was a little girl. My other paternal great-grandmother never took it very well that she didn’t get a baby named after her, but I thank my lucky stars for that, because her name is… rather anachronistic and unflattering.

2. When was the last time you cried? I… don’t remember? It was definitely a long time ago. Not only have I been quite happy lately, but also one might say I’m rather stunted; by which I mean, whenever something upsets me, I’m more likely to be catatonic, or spend the night awake, than to cry about it. I don’t know what that says about me, but I’ve always been like this, lol

3. Do you have kids? Goodness, no! Sometimes I imagine I might when I’m a proper grown-up, but I am far too young for that now.

4. Do you use sarcasm a lot? I tend to modulate my speech according to my interlocutor, so I guess that depends on whom I’m talking to; I think I’m more likely to use deadpan, dry humor than sarcasm per se, though.

5. What sports do you play, or have played? Tennis, on doctor’s orders (this sounds like a ludicrously old-timey thing to say out of context, but when I was in my early teens my physician insisted I get some exercise, and tennis was the sport I hated the least; I am not athletic in the slightest and I still suck at it, but I do play it).

6. What’s the first thing you notice about people? I had to ponder this question for a while. I suppose I’m always inclined to look for something to like in anybody I ever meet; usually something that we have in common (it needn’t be something big; even a converging taste in shoes is enough for starting a conversation). This may be a bit narcissistic of me, but isn’t it easier to build a positive rapport with someone when you recognize something of yourself in them?

7. What’s your eye color? Dark brown, on the verge of black.

8. Scary movies or happy endings? When it comes to movies, I always prefer a comedy. That being said, I’ve been getting a taste for horror lately. I blame Rosemary’s Baby for pulling me into that rabbit hole.

9. Any special talents? I’m often told I can be very eloquent and persuasive, which is a useful skill to have as a law student. I also have a great affinity, and an above average facility, for learning languages (I am fluent in three, pretty decent at an additional two, and know a little bit of many others). Oh, and, not that anyone cares, but I’ve also got a good memory for literary quotes (this may be the worst party trick ever, but I can recite entire stanzas from Les Fleurs du Mal and Byron’s Don Juan)!

10. Where were you born? Rio de Janeiro, Brazil.

11. What are your hobbies? As I said, I enjoy learning languages (I’ve been teaching myself Russian and Yiddish since the pandemic; I can already form complete sentences and read simple texts, but I wouldn’t say I can actually speak them yet). I also read a lot of literature, some culture history and biographies and a bit of history, political economy, and philosophy. I like keeping up with current events, too (is “like” the right word for that? It may be more accurate to say that I feel obligated to do so). I watch some TV and movies, especially classics, and I’m always listening to music on my air pods when I’m out and on my headphones when I’m home (I own a record player, too, but that is for special occasions). Besides all that, I also really enjoy singing, but I only get instrumental accompaniment when I have guests over, or during choir practice (I wish I could play the guitar, or the piano, but I’ve always been too woefully uncoordinated for that).

12. Do you have any pets? Three rescue cats, the youngest of whom we rescued ourselves!

13. How tall are you? An embarrassing 1,6 meter (about 5’4’’ in Fahrenheit, or whatever the strange measurement unit it is you use in the USA), made worse by the fact I can’t stand to wear uncomfortable shoes that might make me taller.

14. Favorite subject in school? I attended Catholic school despite growing up in a very secular family (long story, lol) and I hated most of it. But my parents were mindful of making up for gaps in my and my sister’s education by enrolling us in several extracurriculars and getting us some private tutors, including a young English teacher I absolutely adored. She’s still one of my closest friends nowadays, even though she moved abroad almost five years ago.

15. Dream job? Heiress. Socialite. Queen consort. Patron of the arts.

Thanks again, Diana, I had a lot of fun with these! I’m tagging @fancycolours, @sneez, @bbbrianjones, @bilbao-song, @david-watts, @chaoticdesertdweller, and anyone else who wants to do this.

#life hack: you can procrastinate tedious chores by finishing tumblr tags that have been sitting in your drafts for ages #btw hi ned happy belated birthday ily #as usual everyone please feel free to ignore the tag if it looks like to much work to you lol #i made my answers WAY longer than they needed to be but alas synthesis is NOT one of my ‘special talents’#tag game

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thetenamongstthesethrees · 11 months

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TW: REFERENCE TO SH AND RELAPSE OF SH AND SUICIDE ATTEMPT

Ok so ik ive been inactive for a *WHILE* and im srry for that but like i have a buncha things that happened these past 3 months that I NEED To share SOOOO....

First things first, the one im most excited abt: I DID MY FIRST PERFORMANCE!!! My school was doing little mermaid jr and I got Scuttle! I was really happy to get my first role and getting at least one solo, and Im just happy overall on how it went! I think I did really good on my first try! Only bad thing was that now im kinda going through my lil mermaid hyperfixation and have been looking up fics where Sebastian and Ariel kinda have a Father/Parental Figure-Daughter or Older Brother-Younger (stupid but ultimately well meaning) Sister dynamic and have started to write a fic on that bc no ones done it before apparently😒(im going cray cray, bonkers mayhaps)

Might've gotten my eye infected(I live in the east of the us, new york to be more specific and woke up the day after the "live vintage (BLAME CANADA/j) filter" with my right eyes nerves slightly more irritated and haven't gotten that checked out so thats fun)

FINALLY finished that one drawing ive been making for 3 MONTHS.(well, technically....)

Almost done writing my passion project, AKA the one I originally wanted to make into an animated series but have settled for a book just in case that can't happen! I still need to work out some kinks, design more outfits, get all their personalities in check, make sure the world and magic is fully fleshed out, ect.

I also do band, and while I originally thought that I would have a problem bc of both band and theatres close scheduling(i originally had dress rehearsal on june 2nd, AND my band concert on June 2nd) but it all worked out in the end! My band concert went great, and while the dress rehearsal was a mess, we at least got through it! :)

Unintentionally quit SH! I was originally only meant to stop until AFTER performances, but ive been bettering myself and learned that if I ever want to forgive myself or at least move on I gotta stop feeling sorry for myself and not forget nor forgive, but remember, i just can't let it haunt me. I know I'll relapse, I always do eventually, but I want to enjoy these few moments of mental "clarity" while I can. I've also learned that for some reason i tend to become a more terrible person and despicable person the more time I spend at home with my mother, so that's fun. God, I hate America's education system, its messed me up BAD. AND the foster care system. I just tried to kms 2 times today, and she didn't even notice, or care. How sad is that?

On a lighter note, yes, as the rest of yt and TikTok, I got a minor lil hyperfixation on the Lorax and really think ppl should make more [PLATONIC] Lorax and Onceler dynamics, mainly the type where they're like some really annoying pair of bickering siblings or a father whos sick of his adopted child's shit, like there is so much on the table for platonic fluff and angst and most of what I've seen is romantic smut and fluff like CHANGE IT UP A LIL

Also, Ive been going to karaoke centers on Tuesdays and have become a lot more confident to performing in front of ppl! So far, I've performed "All You Wanna Do", "The Ballad of Jane Doe", "Heart of Stone", and am gonna do "What the World Needs" the next upcoming Tuesday, where I'm gonna try interacting with the audience while singing!!

(Also, before I end this....I may have ADHD??? my teacher who has ADHD says some of my behavior is "similar to hers"(i feel like thats just her way of saying i reek of neurodivergency) and I also did some research and I display similar/exact behaviors listed, have taken online tests from doctorate confirmed sites and basically all of them said to go get a diagnosis. I also found I do a few behaviors similar to stimming! Also also, I kinda suspect a lil more bc my mom has Autism and apparently sometimes neurodivergency is biological (i forgor the word) but my mom is kinda in denial abt my Depression diagnosis and thinks I got anxiety "biologically", so if I tell her I wanna get tested for ADHD shes just kinda gonna gaslight me into not believing that and i already told the school therapist and basically she just told me that I'm probably just imagining things or copying behaviors from my mother and that "kids like to give themselves all these titles nowadays" so I just did what I always do which is to keep it shut and act until they think you fell in line)

So yeah, thats all! Thanks for reading, now that my schedule is clear again ima start posting more frequently again, so be aware :) <3333

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0-scorch-the-earth-0 · 3 months

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Ooo you’re rewriting Recalibrate?

Kinda!

Essentially, yes, but it’s not the same recalibrate from before. I’m currently working on making a slightly new title, like “Recalibrated” or “Recalibrate Me”. I want to make the fanfic I originally intended to set out to make. A story of love, grief, and the power of growing with someone by your side.

I have a good description of what exactly I’m doing with recalibrate in a recent update of the fanfic. I’ll just copy paste what’s there and put it here for y’all to see 💕💕

Also, I was rewriting Recalibrate chapter by chapter there for a little while before I got too overwhelmed. It’s rewritten up to chapter 6, with better writing and some added scenes, so I highly suggest checking that out!!!

Also also, I wrote a preface to my notes release (which will make sense after reading what is below). It felt like a very important message, so I’ll copy that too.

The update I posted in Recalibrate:

Hey there, all!

It’s been… QUITE awhile since an update. I hope this email finds you all well <3

I’m unsure how many times I’m going to make this apology. It certainly has been too many times to count. But I’ll give it anyway; I’m sorry for disappearing on this story yet again. It’s both unfair to my unwavering readers and to my characters themselves.

I could make the excuse that life has been crazy. Which in all fairness, it has. I got engaged to the person I wrote about in an update so long ago (we’ve been together for over 5 years now!), we bought our first house, I got a stable job at a library, I’ve become way more invested in my cosplaying, I’ve made tons of friends, and I’m just generally more happy now than I ever was before! Which I guess brings me to my next talking point?

I wrote Recalibrate during a time in my life where there was a lot going wrong. I don’t think I’ve ever talked about what I was going through, but it’s safe to say a lot of it came out in my writing. I was mentally unhappy, my parents controlled every aspect of my life (I was writing and posting Recalibrate in secret, as there was a strict “no technology” rule for me in my household growing up), and the only relationship I was allowed to have (straight!) at the time quickly became toxic and made me feel unworthy to be living. I’m sure some of that bled through into the plot of Recalibrate. That coupled with my immaturity meant there were a lot of things both added and missed in the story that didn’t aid it.

For example, the seamless set-up of Zane coming to terms with his artificialness as being something to respect and accept about himself would have led to some powerful character development, but instead I chose to have an ending where he gets magic-ed into being human. Doesn’t make sense to what Zane’s character needed to learn about himself as I know it to be now. And it was also a clear attempt to give myself an example of someone who successfully does not deal with their internal issues and just waits for enough self-sacrifice to happen before they are free of what ailed them without doing any introspection on their self-loathing :D And then for some reason, I also felt the necessity to add a big bad (Morro) into the story, and I distinctly remember thinking “well all good stories have a big bad, so I have to”, not comprehending that sometimes, a story can just be about two characters having issues and growing together. These are just tiny details of what I’m talking about. That’s not even bringing about that my romance writing was, looking back on it, stunted and skittish. Unrealistic. But I can’t blame my younger self. I never knew what an actual relationship, with real attraction and love and trust, looked like until I started living on my own and met my now-fiancé. Back then, I was just trying to do what everyone else was, not realizing until later that I’m not broken and that I literally was just a gay kid trying to pretend at being straight.

This is all to say that, this morning I woke up with a sore throat and sniffles, 5 days before my 25th birthday, saw some anonymous person had left kudos on Recalibrate, and decided to figure out what had really gone wrong in my motivation and love for this story (after chugging DayQuil of course).

You might not like what I have in mind for this story.

A lot of you loved Morro, and I’ll admit I loved my characterization of him and Archer and Bansha. I liked the lore I created for them and the dynamic the trio quickly settled itself into. But everytime I went to continue the rewrite for Recalibrate, this huge plot that I had devised as a 14 year old child would stare me down and make the task feel virtually impossible. I mean, I didn’t even get half way through my planned story, and that was before I started rewriting and adding even more things.

My plans were ambitious. And they were made without knowing myself, my limits, my desires; they were made without relying on my strengths as a writer. I was trying to do what everyone else did, and I wasn’t aware yet that my best writing has always come from character focused introspection and slowly budding romance, not from action or complicated puzzle-like plots.

So, I’m thinking about getting rid of the Morro stuff. I wrote such an idea in a rewrite note back in 2021. In fact, that was the last thing I wrote, before I likely became too heartbroken or too worried about disappointing you all that I didn’t reopen my notes document until today. But in order to deliver a story that I have promised for over a decade, I think I know what needs to be done.

I have notes, so many notes, on what the story would’ve been. Sometimes, when I’d lost hope that I could ever finish the story, I’d think about posting all those notes here for all of you as a declaration of me ending my long hiatus with one last “sorry”.

But I owe younger me more than that. I owe you all more than that. I owe the fandom that raised me more than that. And I’ll be honest when I say I don’t think younger me would’ve been all too upset about me scrapping the large plot I gave myself. After all, this fic was only originally supposed to be an explanation as to what happened to Dr. Julien, written before I even shipped Glacier.

If you mourn the old Recalibrate and the plot an on-the-whole different person made, I’m deeply sorry. If seeing the notes of all that would’ve occurred in the old plot would ease your grief, please let me know. As it is currently, I’m contemplating making another A03 fic as an archive with the chapters I will be deleting, as well as with the notes that would’ve carried me to the end, had I been built for writing extensive plots. Let me know if that interests you.

From here on out, I want to write the story I intended. I want to write the story that my heart wants to write, instead of the story my brain thinks people want. These characters have been banging on my ribcage for ages, begging to be let out and finally be written to an end. I will try my best to listen to them. I hope you all will still want to journey with me.

Thank you all <3

-Matty

The Preface I posted in Ao3 along with my first revealed notes:

In creating a closure to my original Recalibrate story, I’ve decided my first entry to be on the most vital page of my notes, of which I referenced more than any other page. The “End Goals” page, I called it. This page was written on 1/20/16, which was 17 days after I posted the first chapter on FanFiction.net (A fun factoid, which I am unsure how many of you know: I was posting Recalibrate almost a whole year before moving it over to Archive of Our Own. I didn’t know about Ao3 at the time, mainly because I wasn’t even allowed to be on the internet, and barely had enough time to sneak a post on ffn, let alone research other sites I could share my story to).

The end goals served as a road map for me, the writer. And for you, the reader, I assume they serve as somewhat of a table of contents for the updates ahead. A taste of where the story was going, and where it was to end up. For some of you, this very broad summary that follows below may be all you need to sate your curiosity. It gives no exact details. No play by play. Some of you may appreciate that more. If so, I’m glad to satiate you. But for those of you who wanted to know the specific details, the “who dies”, the “how”, I will be making further updates that include chapter specific notes, overarching plot notes, and even a map I drew (if I can figure out how to attach images to Ao3 chapters, that is).

For those of you who wish to keep the story forever a mystery, I appreciate that just as equally. But I suggest you should stop reading soon, then, because for all intents and purposes, we are now entering spoiler territory. If you can even call it that.

However you wish to consume the following content, I want to thank all of you. The comments, the kudos, the support, the dms on Insta and Tumblr; it has been everything to me. I never forget each person who has reached out to me saying I got them through hard times, sometimes that I saved their life. That my writing is their nostalgia, their safe space. I can never express how deeply impacted I am that my writing had such a profound meaning to many of my readers. And, of course, beyond. I remember, way back in the day, the author of then-not-written Chips and Salsa reaching out to me and saying they were inspired by Recalibrate in some way, shape, or form to begin writing a Glacier Fanfic. Which then became the most prolific fanfic of glaciershipping in probably the history of glaciershipping.

My impact has been greater than any scope I could have possibly imagined. I will never, ever take that for granted. I’m so grateful for the role I have been able to play in your lives. I hope, of course, that you may join me on my next journey. But if not, if this is where we part, I just wanted to remind you how special you are. How much you matter. And how grateful I am for your presence in this world, and the small slice of your life that you offered to me in spending your time to read my story, and to read this.

Remember: Ninja. Never. Quit. <3

#lego ninjago #ninjago #ninjago zane #ninjago cole #ninjago glacier #glacier ninjago #glacier shipping #ninjago glacier shipping #glacier shipping fanfic #ninjago colexzane #recalibrate fan fic #recalibratefanfic #recalibrate fanfic #recalibrate #chips and salsa #chipsandsalsa

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autumnhobbit · 3 months

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Hi! I was hoping you could talk more about not having friends (at least those around your age), like the reasons behind it and how its impacted you? I'm asking because I get it all too well! My three closest---and, let's be real, ONLY---friends are women I met decades ago, and none of them live within two hours of me so I hardly ever see them at all. Plus, they have lives of their own, and a lot of our friendship is based more on habit and history than anything we share in the present, you know?

Well, I actually did have a decent group of friends in high school, & growing up I felt like I had a lot of friends because you know how it is when you’re a kid, you see somebody and find them interesting, they’re your friend, you both like the color yellow? You’re friends now. But it feels kind of surreal sometimes to think about the fact that I had a friend group in high school because I see myself as such a loner/so fundamentally unlikeable that it kind of doesn’t make sense that I had several friends who I knew from other people did genuinely like hanging out with me.

I’m sure people would like to blame my being homeschooled but frankly I think I had maybe too much unencumbered social interaction as a homeschooled kid, if anything I think the way it was treated was more, hey, the other kids are the same religion as you and are also homeschooled so do whatever there’s no problems. I still dealt with bullying, I’m sure I to some extent bullied others myself. I grew up in a pretty tight-knit homeschool group that had its own dramas and messes and when the official ‘group’ fell apart we still all hung out and went to each others sacraments and such. Anyway, the reason I think it’s relevant to mention is because basically every friendship I had was from this group.

I had one girl I considered my best friend growing up because we had known each other literally our whole lives and we were both the oldest girls in our family, and as previously mentioned were both Catholic & homeschooled. And I was way invested in it. Like, we were gonna be in each other’s weddings type stuff. And I always assumed we’d stay friends. But when we got to being around teenaged she got way big into school (her parents made all the kids get into college early and take dual enrollment/sign up for every scholarship & award) and they never had time to hang out. And even when we did, I was finding that I had different ideas about what I wanted in my life, and she couldn’t understand that & also couldn’t accept it. I feel now that I was somewhat defensive since my viewpoint was so hated in the for some reason weirdly obsessive white-collar community that was the homeschool group, but I would have been accepting of her plans and choices if she had been accepting of mine. But eventually I got tired of always being criticized and beat over the head with my ‘wrong’ decisions and I just stopped initiating, and as soon as I did it was like. Radio silence. Once in a while she’d still talk to me if we were in the same place (some of our siblings are still friends), if she wasn’t busy with her boyfriend. And then she didn’t talk to me at all, and she moved and we haven’t spoken since.

I had other friends in high school, but one by one everybody else moved and got married and started their lives, and I just couldn’t. I was stuck at home with my abusive dad messing all my attempts at independence up and I had no job prospects & didn’t want to go to college. Nowhere to go, nothing to look forward to.

Looking back, I acknowledge part of it was my fault, because I’m one of those people who just assumes that if you want to talk to me you will, and if you don’t talk to me it’s just because you don’t want to. Some people stayed in contact when they left and are still friends with them today. But I didn’t have the capacity to reach out at the time, if it had even occurred to me, so I just let things die. Now I know that from their end it must have looked like I didn’t care too much about them, either, so of course they didn’t talk to me. It’s something I regret, but can’t change now. My problem isn’t lack of caring about people, it’s lack of knowing what my place in anyone’s life is. And I’m still not great at that, tbh. If somebody says ‘we should get together sometime’ I don’t know whether to push for it, even if I miss the person and want to see them too, and so things just slide and before you know it I haven’t seen someone in seven years.

Nowadays I just genuinely don’t know many people my age, and I don’t see them, even. My assumption is people my age are either busting their asses working, in graduate school, already have kids, or what have you, and none of us have the time or energy for others who aren’t in our lane already. Zach’s the first friend I’ve made in a long time, and I probably wouldn’t have if he hadn’t initiated because he saw & was interested in me. And it’s a source of stress for me, because at the same time that I have so much baggage with friendships and feel really jaded and lonely like I’m just not worth being friends with or other people aren’t worth my effort for nothing, I believe friendship is worthwhile and sacred and important and that cultivating them are incredibly important life skills, but I just. Don’t have it in me to do it, and it really feels pointless and hopeless to me. I have some great internet friends, but you can’t at the drop of a hat go antiquing, or go try that new ice cream place, or go to a movie or go to the park, or take a walk or do housework, or any of the millions of things I’d like to share with people. Mostly, I just miss talking. You can’t have the same sorts of conversations with older adults you can have with someone your age who’s going through the same things you are. I have no one to tell when I got my dream job, or promoted. I’ll probably have no one to tell when I finally get a house or a dog, or have a kid, or write a book, or any of those things. And I know I need to change it before it’s too late but I just can’t find the drive to when I’m still so effed up from the last time.

I wish this were more positive or had some sort of ‘but,’ but right now, for me, it doesn’t. I pray sometimes, when I think of it, for God to help me find a good friend, or maybe someone who needs a good friend, and to recognize it and jump on it when I see it. But so far it seems like that’s just not something I can have for right now.

#personal #i’m sorry this is so long but i’m genuinely fucked up on this topic lol #hopefully no one i know sees this #i don’t know if this is helpful at all but it’s the truth so maybe someone will at least not feel like they’re #particularly diseased in this way like i do

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arin-villa · 7 months

Text

OC-tober day 10: Mercy. Prompts by @oc-tober2023 TW: previous choking, implied abuse. Drawing under the cut :P

It was three years ago that I moved here to Peru. I just came out of a two-and-a-half-year relationship. I am twenty-one years old and barely alive.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you had ignored my message." I said to Jonan, my best friend. My only friend now that I think about it. "I should have listened to you when you told me to break up with him a year ago."

He sits in the bed beside me, and I look up at him from the floor. His shaggy haircut is both longer and shorter than the last time I saw him a year ago. It looks like he shaved the sides to leave a weird mullet thing. It fits him well.

"This is not on you, Mati." I laugh when he says that. "I mean it."

"That's not it!" I say between fits of laughter. "It's the nickname." He looks at me puzzlingly. We met in the first week of college here. Since I arrived, people have called me that for some reason.

"No one else calls me that," I explain. "The only place where people call me that is here." It's not funny, but I can't stop laughing. "Because I always hated that nickname." Once I stop laughing, I look at my hands for a second, then I turn to look at him.

"Did you shave your own hair?" I ask him, an idea forming.

"Yeah, like 3 weeks ago, I also bleached and dyed it purple all on my own," he answers casually. "Why do you ask?" I stare back at the wall, furrowing my brows.

"I need you to shave my hair." I tell him simply. After a few seconds of silence, I turn to look at him. "That's a good expression." He looks... confused? Maybe scared? Like I'm an alien speaking gibberish or maybe a threat.

"You love your hair." He states. I do love it, always wanted long hair. My parents forced me to keep it short to maintain an image. Fuck their image, frankly. "You've been growing it for years." I nod, and that makes my neck hurt, the doctor said it might be sore for some days.

"I will continue to let it grow," I continue looking at him. He stares back as if I was a puzzle. "I want to shave it to regrow it."

"Aren't you and your dad moving to Lima in 4 days?" He asks incredulously. I don't see how that has to do with anything.

"I am making a new self of myself." There is no other way of explaining it.

"What the fuck does that mean?"

"Matias Fowler will be dead, and in his wake will rise Ada Garcia." That does not clarify anything, it seems.

"Where does that come from?" He questions.

"The name or the rebirth thing?"

"Both," after a second he decides. "The name."

"My middle name is Adael. When I told my ex-boyfriend, James, he sometimes called me Ada. I think it's cute," I tell him. "I never liked my middle name before him, I was even ashamed of it."

Jonan stares at me before shrugging and getting up. He walks to his bathroom and gets out a razor machine kit.

"I don't want it buzzed to my skull." He nods and takes out the machine and a comb-looking thing you attach to it. He points to the wall so I turn around while he sits in the bed.

"So Matias Fowler is dead, then?" He asks as the buzzing of the machine starts.

In Spanish, there are two words for hair; "Pelo" and "cabello". Cabello refers to the hair in your skull, and pelo refers to any type of hair. The only thing that changes is where it is, and what it is attached to, but its name changes. It's nearly irrelevant, but it still matters.

"Yup," I say. "I don't want Don to find me." Don, who I should have broken up with a year ago, tried to kill me when he found me taking my things from his basement to leave. I'm afraid he will find me to finish the job.

"That's not the only reason, being a Fowler has led me to unhappiness, I want to change that. That’s why I will change it so Garcia. I have only known of Alejandro,” my biological father, “for like five years, but he has been a better dad than Patrick.” My adoptive father, husband of my mother. “It feels right to give him back that.” I am not exactly sure what that is, a sense of connection with me, maybe.

"Why change your first name too?" Strands of hair fall to the floor, they are quite long since my hair was reaching my shoulders.

"I might still use it. I just have been Matias for too long maybe." That makes no sense, but I don't care. "Legally, my name will be Ada."

"Why does your past self have to die?" He sure is asking a lot of questions.

"It was a mercy killing. He led a sad, sad life." I grab some of my hair.

"It wasn't that bad." He tries to comfort me.

"He was kicked out of his house at 17, bullied most of elementary school, and nearly choked to death at 21, among other things." A lot of other things

"Mercy kill." He agrees.

"Mercy kill." I repeat.

"We should have a funeral." He suggests.

"We should bury my hair." I add. "That will be his body."

"Or burn it."

"Or bury it." He boos behind me. "Burnt hair smells bad."

“How bad?”

“Extremely bad, clings to your clothes for weeks bad.” I say. Don’t ask how I know.

"We should bury it."

We don’t say much else. I sit quietly as he finishes buzzing my hair. This might be the last time we see each other, I don’t plan on coming back. He is planing on moving somewhere to finish his masters. I should feel sad, but it just feels like a great ending. Even though I am not one for optimism, I think I will be okay.

———

I did say he HAD to change his name.

Anyways we hate Don here. He was 29 when he met Matias who was 18!! Gross. He will never know Ada, though.

Also for context, Matias met Jonan who introduced him to a band he was a part of, Don was a bassist and Matias joined as a singer. Jonan left the band because he could not stand to watch his friend in an abusive relationship. They do meet again and even live together for some years

If I’m missing any tags please tell me.

Some doodle/explanation for your troubles :D

#tw bruises #tw bruising #past abuse #original character #oc tober #oc-tober #original art #illustration #oc tober 2023

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my-head-is-an-animal · 2 years

Text

Honesty Is The Best Policy

John Dee x Reader/OFC

Word Count: 2315

Summary: After getting tired of everything going wrong in your life, a stranger by the name of John Dee changes the way you look at things.

I stood up, tired of sitting on a bench, tired of feeling sorry for myself, tired of life being so difficult. But I did not anticipate walking straight into a very solid figure and having the wind knocked out of me.

‘Oh, god, sorry!’ I exclaimed, looking up to see the middle-aged man I had just randomly slammed into. ‘So sorry.’ I said again.

‘That’s alright,’ he said. ‘Wasn’t looking where I was going either.’ He gave a slight grimace. ‘Are you alright?’ His eyebrows knitted together.

‘Oh, yes, fine.’ I nodded, but I could taste salt. I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling the last of my energy disappearing. ‘No, actually, I’m not.’

‘Then why would you say you were?’

I had to chuckle. ‘I don’t know. It’s become habit by now I guess.’

‘It’s an awful habit to get into.’ He said simply.

‘It’s also a very tiring one.’ I nodded.

He gave a quick nod and gestured to the bench, I had to admit, I wasn’t ready to leave the park just yet and the sun was starting to go down.

‘What’s your name?’ He asked as we sat back down.

‘Sarah. Yours?’

‘John.’

He kept a careful distance between us, I suppose he was unsure how close to sit.

‘Why don’t you tell me why you got into the habit of lying in the first place?’ John folded his hands in his lap, it was only then I noticed he was wearing pyjamas. How odd.

I thought for a moment, looking over at the fountain in the middle of the park.

‘I suppose when you tell people you’re not fine,’ I swallowed nervously. ‘There’s a sort of sigh they do, as if you’re about to zap all their energy away. People don’t really want to hear about how not fine we are, even our friends don’t want to hear it. No one has the energy for anyone anymore. It’s just easier on everyone to pretend you’re fine.’

‘It’s not easier on you.’ John frowned.

‘No.’ I looked back at John, his blue eyes scanning me curiously. ‘But that’s my point, people would rather believe a nice lie than hear a heart breaking truth.’

John half smiled. ‘Not me.’ He shook his head. ‘I hate people who lie. Truth is always better. Will you tell me the truth?’

I couldn’t help a small smile appearing on my face. ‘Okay.’ I swallowed. ‘Maybe it’ll do me some good.’

‘I think it would be very good for both of us.’

There was something so kind and gentle about his face, soothing in a way, something that made me feel like my truths would be safe in his hands.

‘Okay, what would you like to know?’ I asked, curious about where this conversation would take me.

John thought for a moment. ‘We’ll start easy and don’t worry if you think it sounds selfish or horrific, I just want to hear the truth.’

‘Okay.’ I nodded.

‘Do you love your parents?’

It was an odd question to start with, but easier than others. I thought about it for a moment.

‘Sometimes, not always.’ I felt a small relief, I had never admitted to that before. ‘Sometimes I resent my dad, when I was younger, I wanted him to be proud of me, so I just did whatever he asked. I wanted to act, but he told me I should have a back up that would help in some way, like Sports Science.’

‘You don’t like sport?’

‘I do,’ I nodded. ‘Well, some sports. I like learning about the human body, it’s incredible the things it can do, but it wasn’t my passion and I didn’t enjoy it as much as I wanted to. I should have studied acting. I even met with an agent one who wanted to sign me on.’

‘What happened?’

‘I was fourteen and my dad said no.’ I felt a lump forming in my throat. ‘Thing is, it’s an industry where second chances don’t come around that often.’

‘You feel you missed out?’

‘Yeah.’ I whispered. ‘I blame him for me not making it.’

John nodded, there seemed to be something of relief in his eyes. ‘What about your mother?’

‘Oh, she’s just…’ I tried to think of the right words. ‘She’s just very disappointed. I’m nearly thirty and she still treats me like a child who can’t dress herself. I think she always wanted me to be this elegant young woman, but I don’t wear satin tops, I wear bands t-shirts and, in her eyes,… it’s all just very disappointing.’

‘I am sorry you’ve been treated so poorly.’

‘It’s not all bad.’ I shook my head. ‘My dad and I share a love of music, I told him I wanted to learn to play the guitar, we went out that afternoon and he got me my first acoustic guitar and a book to learn from. We would spend hours in the basement playing simple songs and he always encouraged me to learn something just a little more challenging every time. And my mum loved to paint, she taught me how to draw.’ I swallowed back the tears that were forming. ‘So, sometimes I love my parents. There’s been a lot of ups and downs.’

‘There always are.’ John mused, observing me closely.

‘What about you?’ I asked, hoping to get the same honesty in return.

John gave a sad smile. ‘I never knew my father, but my mother was an awful woman.’

‘I’m so sorry.’

‘She had me put in prison, you know?’

‘Prison?’ I exclaimed, suddenly not feeling so safe.

‘Well, she called in a psychiatric hospital, but it was basically a prison.’ John explained, but there was still something haunting about him. ‘I wasn’t allowed to leave because they thought I would hurt more people, my mother only visited when she wanted something of mine, but I never gave it up.’

‘You hurt people?’

John’s eyes snapped to mine, I felt fear trickling down my spine. ‘Only in self defence… are you afraid of me, Sarah?’

I inhaled deeply, honesty was the best policy. ‘Yes, I am. I’m scared you’ll hurt me.’

‘You’ve given me no reason to.’ He said, earnestly and I really did believe him. ‘You haven’t lied or tried to hurt me… and I like your honesty, it’s refreshing. Don’t you feel better for it?’

It wasn’t until he asked that I actually realised that I did feel better for getting those things off my chest.

‘Yes, I do.’ I admitted.

‘Maybe we could keep talking for a while, I think we’d both feel a lot better for it.’ John smiled a really rather kind smile and as long as we were in public with cameras everywhere, then maybe it wasn’t so bad.

‘Okay.’ I nodded.

‘Good, so are you in a relationship with anyone?’

I inhaled deeply once again, thinking about whether I should just get up and leave, but something in his earnest look kept me in my seat.

‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘I was, but it didn’t end well.’

‘Abusive?’

‘Not exactly.’ I swallowed, nervously, no being careful with my words. ‘He slept with someone else.’

‘I see.’ John nodded, moving his gaze away from mine to look at the park around us.

‘What about you?’

‘Oh good gracious, no.’ He chuckled. ‘I’ve never found anyone good enough for me to entertain in that way.’

I frowned, it seemed like such an odd way to respond.

‘You seem surprised.’ He commented.

‘I suppose I’m surprised that it isn’t the other way around,’ I confessed. ‘Most people would assume that they aren’t good enough for someone else.’

‘Do you think that?’

‘When my boyfriend slept with someone else, it was hard to think much else.’

John nodded and stayed quiet for a moment.

‘May I ask something rather forward?’ John shifted just a little closer, but still not intrusively.

‘Sure.’ I gave a curious smile, wondering where he was going with this.

‘I would like to ask you to go out with me,’ John said, fidgeting a little more. ‘But I would like to know something before I think about asking… would you be able to stay honest? Never lie?’

I took a much deeper breath and thought for a while. It wasn’t what I expected to happen that evening, John seemed nice enough, harmless as long as you kept by his rules, but to spend a prolonged amount of time with him may have been more than I could handle.

‘I think I could say yes to a date, I could be completely honest for an evening,’ I swallowed nervously. ‘But I need the small lies in my life. I just don’t think I could give you what you were looking for long term and I don’t think you could give me what I am looking for.’

John looked up at me with his clear blue eyes and smiled, nodding. ‘The most hurtful about that is I believe you. And in some ways I feel you might be wrong, but perhaps you’re right.’

I smiled with him; he seemed so easy going in this new light. ‘Besides, you can’t tell me you find me that attractive, I know what I look like.’

John’s smile faded as a small frown appeared between his brows. ‘What exactly is it you think you look like?’

I shook my head, not expecting to be asked that question. ‘Well, you can see me, I’m so plain and uninteresting, there’s nothing unique or eye catching about me. I’m just average, in every sense.’

John suddenly let a breathy laugh go, shaking his head. ‘That is the first thing you’ve said that is entirely false, Sarah.’

‘I’m not lying.’ I felt my heart pumping a little faster, unsure of what John might do.

‘I believe you, well, I believe that you think so.’ John said, turning his body to face me slightly. ‘When we bumped into each other a few moments ago, I thought your eyes were quite stunning, they were full of water admittedly, but there was something about your sadness that caught me off guard. And I don’t think you’re giving yourself enough credit where plain and average are concerned. There’s nothing unattractive about you, plain is better than ugly and average is smoother than unique. I like smooth, very much.’

I could feel the smile forming on my lips, somehow he had altered the way I saw myself and it was bliss. I felt warm under my skin for a moment as my cheeks began to flush.

‘The colour suits you.’ John remarked, making me chuckle. ‘Happiness is an attractive quality in anyone, it removes all negativity and leave only positivity, don’t you think?’

‘You might be right.’ I chuckled, watching my hands in my lap, fidgeting. ‘I never really thought about it that way before.’

John paused before speaking again. ‘What about me? Do you… find me… attractive?’ I could sense the nervousness and I felt for him, he must have had a very lonely life in that hospital.

‘I think you’re very kind and very curious,’ I said, nodding. ‘I think those are very attractive qualities. And you hate liars, which is even better.’

John chuckled with me. ‘But you don’t think you could be with me.’

He wasn’t sad exactly, more stating a fact and I felt our evening coming to an end.

‘No.’ I shook my head. ‘Like I said, I need a little dishonesty in my life. People are far too complicated for me, there are some things I’d rather not know.’

John nodded. ‘I understand.’

I felt myself smiling at John, catching his eyes flickering to my mouth and I had to admit, I wouldn’t have minded kissing him. I swallowed and turned away once again.

‘Sarah.’ John hummed. ‘If you’re going to say goodbye, perhaps we could do so with something more honest than words.’

My nervousness was returning tenfold. I wasn’t sure I wanted to encourage John, but I couldn’t deny it would have been nice to be treated with care for a moment or two.

The moment I turned back to tell John I needed to leave, I felt my heart pounding in my chest, just something about the way he looked at me, like nothing in the world was wrong with me, if I was just honest with myself.

His lips were cold, but soft. He was tentative, just giving me a moment check in with myself, to wonder if I was enjoying this. I was. I kissed him back, just a little more pressure than before, he responded and deepened the kiss for just a moment, bringing his hand to cradle my face.

I couldn’t help but melt into the touch, it had been far too long since I had been kissed like that, far too long since I had been treated with such care and kindness, a part of me wondered if I could in fact go out with him, spend more time with him.

John pulled away gently and I wasn’t quite ready for the moment to end, but the cool evening air was now between us and I needed to go back to reality.

My eyes fluttered open and John was smiling at me. I couldn’t stop my small nervous chuckle.

‘Goodbye, Sarah.’ John spoke quietly.

‘Goodbye, John.’ I repeated back, but I wasn’t sure I wanted to say goodbye just yet.

‘Should our paths cross again, I would like to take you up on that date.’

‘Okay.’ I breathed, biting my lip gently.

John’s eyes darted over my face for a moment, taking it in one last time before getting up off the bench to leave.

I watched him walk away out of the park, feeling the same sadness draping over me that I had started with.

Who was John?

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