#which was one town over from where my house physically existed

[pancakeke]

bewilders me when people say they live in a small town but when I look up its population, that "small town" has 15x the population of the town where I grew up. buddy, you do not know small. count your blessings.

#technically #I'm counting the town whereni went to school #which was one town over from where my house physically existed #if i counted where i actually lived in this scenario the “small town” would have 119 (one hundred nineteen) times the population #then one of my school friends lived in a town half the size of mine :(

[letstripdotcom]

shut up my moms calling- chris sturniolo x fem!reader

a/n i love naming my fics after songs bc then i listen to them on replay while i write.

summary- coming home from college means seeing the kid you’ve hated most your whole life. chris sturniolo. you’ve hated everything about his existence since the beginning of 6th grade when you transferred to somerville. the summer after your freshman year of college is when everything starts to change.

warnings- long(ish) smut ofc, mention of toxic relationship, choking, pet names (princess, baby, pretty girl) overstimulation {i think that’s all!}

-

6th grade

i just moved from oklahoma to a small town outside of boston called somerville. it was my first day of 6th grade and i was everything but excited to go. i had a good amount of friends in oklahoma, and absolutely none in massachusetts. if it were up to me i would have stayed, but i had no choice because my mom got offered better work down here.

i walked into the crowded classroom with my schedule in hand. “is this mrs sawyers class?” i ask quietly. “yes it is, and you must be y/n?” she looks up at me through her glasses. “y-yes” i utter nervously. “nice to meet you, have a seat wherever” I walk to a more empty side of the classroom and take a seat.

“newww girlll” i voice calls out in a mocking tone when i sit down. when i look up i lock eyes with a boy with short brown hair. hes sat with his 2 triplet brothers and another one of their friends. “yeah?” i say quietly. he starts immediately attacking me with questions

“where are you from? why are you here? what school did you go to last? did you have friends” i’m overwhelmed as questions pour out of his mouth. “chris you’re freaking her out” his brother says. “i’m nick.” he smiles at me. “that’s chris, obviously, and that’s matt”

“hey nice to meet you” the third one says. “oh and that’s nate.” nick says. i nod my head looking at the 4 boys. “i’m y/n” i say. “y/n?” chris says under his breath almost inaudible. “excuse me?” i say turning my head to look at him. “what nothing.” he tries to play it off

“who decided on the name y/n, your mom or your dad?” chris asks with a disgusted but confused look on his face. “it was my mom’s best friend’s name before she passed.” i explained. “tough” he muttered. the whole rest of the class period was filled with his snarky remarks and questions.

over time, as i got closer to matt and nick, the snarky remarks from chris turned into full on arguments. anything i would say would lead to chris having something else to say. i could tell him my head hurts and he would say something along the lines of “maybe if you wouldn’t think so hard about what to say and just shut the fuck up for once that wound be a problem.” i would just roll my eyes and go back to talking to nick

-

this behavior lasted all the way through senior year of high school. i stayed close with nick and matt, which means i was stuck with chris. we got in several heated arguments over the years and they all led to me leaving the triplets house at 2 in the morning because i couldn’t physically be around chris.

our last big fight was the weekend before i left for college. nick wanted to host a small party of about 15 friends for me since i wouldn’t be seeing him again til the summer. we were setting up the decorations and chris was being extra annoying.

“chris can you actually help out and stop acting like a fucking toddler.” i snapped at him while he stood under me watching me hang up a banner. “maybe if you weren’t nagging at me every 30 seconds.” he complained. “i wouldn’t be nagging if you wouldn’t stand in my way instead of actually contributing to anything in this world” i yelled, stepping off the ladder as i finished hanging the banner.

“you act like i wanna do this party. i don’t give a fuck about you.” he spat “i might not even show up tonight because you’ve been a bitch all day long!” my heart dropped and i felt a lump form in my throat. bitch? me and chris never got along but he never called me a bitch

he knew how much i hated it because of a past relationship i had. during junior year, i was in a super toxic relationship with a kid from our school. i was so naive i had thought he had actually liked me but it turns out i was wrong. we would constantly argue and he would gaslight me into forgiving him.

i stared at chris blankly as tears formed in my eyes. “y/n i-“ “fuck you chris.” i cut him off “and yeah i think it’s best you don’t show up tonight.” i ran upstairs to the bathroom and wiped away my tears. i checked in the mirror and adjusted myself before going back down.

-

present day

i hung up the phone with nick and got in my car. i was on my way home from college for the summer, and i finally got to see my best friend. he’s so excited that he rented out a cabin by the lake for a whole week to celebrate. i haven’t seen any of the triplets since i left, i haven’t seen chris since before the party. chris. my stomach dropped and my heart started pounding when the realization hit that i would be seeing chris.

i didn’t want to see him at all. nick said he changed a lot, and maybe he did, but you can never be too sure. and he did change a lot physically. chris was much more attractive then he was in highschool, not that he’s ever been unattractive, other than his personality.

about a few hours later i called nick to tell him i was close to the cabin. i pulled in and nick darted outside. “omgggg it’s been forever” i squealed as i got out of my car. “you have to see the place!” he grabbed my wrist and pulled me to the back of the house. “there’s a hot tub, a massive pool and all of this space.” he gawked at the house. we went inside as he gave me a tour of the house. “this is your room!” he announced pointing inside.

i looked around and it was absolutely beautiful. “thank you so much nick this is amazing” i hugged him. “don’t thank me too much” he said “i had to put you in the room across the hall from chris, i hope you don’t mind because i’ll work something out”

“no that’s totally fine, i’ll just pretend he isn’t even here” i smiled. he smiled back “okay i’ll be downstairs getting everything ready bc we’re gonna have movie night tonight just like high school.” he said as he left my room.

after i got settled in, i took a shower. i picked out my pajamas which was just a big t shirt and shorts and i headed down stairs happily. “there she is!” matt exclaimed, giving me a hug. “matt i missed you so much!” i said hugging him back

after i pulled away, i made eye contact with chris, who was glaring at me and matt. i shot him a calm smile and looked away. wow chris got really hot. you thought to yourself. no, chris is awful. but i couldn’t help but notice his fluffy hair and his defined jawline.

i noticed his sun kissed face, which made his freckles stand out. god i could only imagine what he looked like with my leg- no. remember what chris said to you. i snapped myself out of my thoughts and sat by nick on the the couch. he handed me a blanket and i cuddled up next to him and focused my eyes on the screen

my focus only lasted for about 30 seconds before my mind was back on chris. why hasn’t he spoke to me? because he hates me. duh. i wonder what he’s thinking right now. why am i so worried about chris? “you okay?” nick asks from beside me. “yeah i’m fine” i say in a convincing reassuring tone.

after the movie ends, i say goodnight and i head up to my room. i get situated in my bed, and i try to fall asleep but i can’t. my mind is flooded with thoughts of chris, and the next thing i know my hand is down my pants. what has happened to me?

this is chris sturniolo, the kid who’s bullied me for 7 years. i never imagined i would be getting off to the thought of him at 2 in the morning. i need to go to bed, but i physically can’t.

i get up out of bed and dig through my bags. i grab my pink swim suit and put it on. a get a towel from my bathroom and quietly head down stairs. i go out the back door and get in the hot tub. i zone out and try to find peace of mind.

i sit there with my eyes closed until i hear someone else getting in the water. i open my eyes, only to see chris. great. this is exactly what i need right now. “look y/n” his voice breaks me out of my thoughts. “i’m really sorry for the way i’ve treated you, you didn’t deserve any of it. but, we’re older now so i wanna put the past in the past”

“i forgive you” i say flatly. “really?” he seems genuinely shocked. “can i kiss you?” i asked immediately regretting what i said. “what?” is all he says before i grab my towel and run inside.

i lay on my bed for a split second before i hear a knock. i know it’s chris, but i still go to the door and answer it. i look up at him with a guilty look on my face. before i speak he’s slamming his face into mine.

he kisses me very passionately like he’s been waiting is whole life. he pushes me into my room and shuts the door behind us. he turns me and pushes me against is as he kisses me harder. one of his hands come up and squeeze my neck slightly

i moan into his mouth causing him to squeeze harder. i moan again growing super wet between my legs. one of my hands come up to tug on his hair, while the other one makes its way up his shirt.

with one hand still around my neck, he guides me over to my bed and lays me down flat as he climbs on top of me. “can i?” he asks, toying with the strap of my top. “pls chris” i whine. he unties my top and yanks it off, his mouth immediately meeting my nipple, his available hand massaging my other breast.

i throw my head back and moan as he does whatever he wants. next thing i know, his hand is coming off my throat, and down my body. he stops abt my bottoms before looking at me for confirmation. i nod desperately. his cold hands slip into my bottoms as his fingers meet my clit.

i’m a moaning mess at this point, begging for whatever contact i can get. “god you’re fucking soaked.” he says, his voice raspy and quiet. “fuck chris please touch me.” i beg “whatever you want princess” he says before putting his ring and middle finger inside of me. he quickly pumps in and out for a few seconds before i cut him of. “chris wait” i say

“are you okay did i do something wrong?” he questions. “no but i have an idea.” i tell him. i then instruct him to lay on his back and put his head on the pillow. i watch as he does what i say. once he’s situated i ask him “can i sit on your face?”

i laughed a little inside about how innocent it sounded. “of course princess” he says. i make my way closer to him as i put my legs on either side of his head. i slightly lower myself down, enough to make contact.

my legs shake as i try to hold myself up while he eats me. he lifts me up a little and says “don’t be shy baby, suffocate me.” he grips my waist harder as he pulls me down all the way onto his face. my back arches at the contact.

chris eats me like i was his last meal, i grip the headboard, and struggle to stay quiet while his nose rubs my clit. “chris i’m g-gonna cum” i whine. one of his hands come off my waist and grabs my ass, massaging it. my legs squeeze his head. and i moan uncontrollably as i release all over his face.

after i come down from my high, i get off and straddle his waist. i lean down and kiss him, tasting myself. i grind on his hard on while we kiss, making him grunt. i reach my hand down and palm his boxers as his body twitches.

i go for the band of his swim shorts and slowly pull them down, exposing his hard dick. i look him in the eyes, to get his consent “y/n please” is all i need to hear before i slowly stroke him. he moans and tosses his head back

after a few more strokes, i sit up and line myself up with him. i slowly lower myself onto him, wincing at his size as i feel him in me. once i’m fully sat, i sit still for a minute to adjust. once i’m ready i start bouncing up and down. he puts one hand on my waist to guide me, as the other one makes it way to mu sensitive clit.

“ughh chris don’t stop” i whine as i ride him. my words make him rub my clit even faster than before. my eyes are now practically stuck in the back of my head as i moan out for him. when i’m about to finish, i clench around him, making his mouth fall open. i come all over him, as he helps me through my high

“good job princess.” he grunts i keep riding him until i feel him twitch. “you feel so good pretty girl. i’m almost there.” i clench again, becoming slightly overstimulated. just then he releases, inside of me. after he comes down i slide off and plop on my bed.

“you okay princess?” he asks with concern “overstimulated” is all i can bring myself to mutter. chris picks me up and lays me in a more comfortable spot on the bed. he then heads to my bathroom and comes back with a towel. he helps clean me off before he finds the shorts and shirt i had on earlier.

he helps me put them on, then he puts his shorts on and goes to his room. i feel sad in that moment. how could he to all of that just to leave? just then he enters my room with pajama pants on. “don’t worry i’m not going anywhere.” he whispers as he crawls into bed with me.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••

a/n: kinda love this what do u think?

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo smut #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo smut #smut #nick sturniolo #sturniolo

[kayesfanfics]

wsppp 😋😋

Do you think Adrian tepes, Trevor, or hector would date a fem witch, ghost or werewolf ? If they would date a werewolf girl, how do you think they would deal with her shifting? It’s supposably painful bc the bones are breaking then fixing themselves in a new form😭 do you think the ghost gf would sometimes have self image issues cause she isn’t really there(transparent) witch gf would be really cute esp if she has a familiar like a black cat or crow (really basic ik) omg and she like has her familiar deliver letters to her lover when they are away 🥹 or she tries to like show her lover how to make potions and he ends up growing plants or a small explosion 😭😭 imagine he makes smth right and he’s bragging but then it blows up into his face 😹😹

I always see people write for vamps but I think it would be cool to include other monsters yk. I have so many ideas but idk how to write 😔😔

Hope ur doing well! -🌙

A/N: I added Isaac as well, but THIS WAS SUCH A FUN PROMPT AND IM SORRY IT TOOK SO DAMN LONG. But I love exploring other monsters, it’s so fun-

Trevor Belmont x Witch! Reader

His knowledge on magic is limited, but not unheard of. He understands the kind of magic Sypha uses, but yours isn’t quite like it. Your type of magic uses alchemy, black magic, the “devils work”. You’ve been cast out and targeted for practicing such things, but you continued to practice witchcraft despite the attempts on your life. Trevor had actually seen you being hauled off to a jail roughly before saving you, recognizing you as a healer around this town

After saving you, he asked for a your witchcraft services to help heal a rather nasty wound he had received, so you took him to your house, where your familiar, a beautiful crow, was awaiting your return. He cawed at your and flew over to land on your shoulder, before cocking his head curiously at the large man behind you

“He’s a customer, my dear! Be hospitable!” You teased, before guiding Trevor over to a room that contained all of your supplies and books. You put together a salve for him, and offered to put it on his wounds for him, to which he accepted and casually began to undress until he was shirtless. You stared at him with a blush on your face for a moment, until he grinned and teased you saying “My eyes are up here, love~”

You allowed him to stay with you for a few nights, which slowly blossomed into some sort of a romantic and physical relationship. When he had to leave to go kill some vampires he’d been hired to get rid of, you’d send him off with healing herbs he’d need to recreate the first salve you made for him. You’d send your familiar out to track him with magic and send him letters or extra supplies, and he’d always send some cheeky note back to you that made you giggle and kick your feet

He definitely tries to help you with your potions and powders, getting supplies or tools for you when you asked. One time he successfully recreated a potion, that is until he got cocky and knocked over another vial into the potion, causing it to explode and blow up into his face, ruining his hair and leaving his face scorched, which made you laugh so hard you nearly pissed yourself as he sarcastically laughed along with you

Adrian Tepes x Ghost! Reader

You often times didn’t feel real and felt like your existence was useless and didn’t have a purpose, that is until you met a beautiful man with pale skin and pale blonde hair, with beautiful golden eyes and sharp fangs. He was mesmerizing and intelligent despite his age, and the two of you formed a relationship, which was soon crumbled by his father injuring him so badly he had to lock himself in a coffin to rest and heal. You haunted the place he had put himself to recover from his fathers attack, and took it upon yourself to watch over him and guard his tomb

After joining Trevor and Sypha on the journey to kill Dracula, you went with them and used your own abilities to help fight. Luckily nothing could kill you again, so you were able to fight by becoming fully invisible, making yourself solid then phase through creatures. Sypha asked you many questions on the journey about you and what it’s like being a ghost, Adrian smiling fondly as the two of you chatted excitedly, as he hadn’t seen you have a friend before

Whenever your self doubts and insecurities about your existence plagued you, he was always there to assure you that you were indeed real. You didn’t have a grave or body to visit as your body had been burned and cremated as to not start a plague, but you had a whole life before him you could tell him about. He’d be able to touch you and feel you were real, kiss you on the forehead to show you you were real

You too didn’t need as much sleep as he did, being dead and all. So you both often roamed the castle together and continued to clean and upkeep it together, rather than restlessly lying in a bed all night. The two of you would have intelligent conversations about philosophy, the science his mother studied, history, things of that sort to get you through sleepless nights. Lying in bed together cuddling while conversing, his hand rubbing your back as you rested your head on his chest

Hector x Werewolf! Reader

As an expert on creatures of the night, he wasn’t phased slightly when he heard Master Dracula had recruited a werewolf into his Court. Despite being half human, you were never treated as one, only being treated like a dog by your fellow species. So you instead took revenge by ripping apart those who hurt you, and Dracula had met you years ago similar to how he met Hector and Isaac, but was recruited last due to your hiding out in secrecy from everybody, you were difficult to track down even for Dracula

When you arrived, you appeared as a regular human, but the vampires could sense you were anything but. You bowed to Dracula and thanked him for the opportunity to help his cause, before he told you to begin planning with the other generals. After speaking with the vampires, you decided to learn about the humans, as you were curious why they would help kill their own kind as well. You started with the silver haired man, and bonded over your shared mistreatment by humans, and he was curious about your more wolf form. You smiled and told him he’d have to wait for that, making sure he’d have something to come back to you for, as you grew fond of the shy and straight to the point man

When he finally got to see it, he watched in borderline horror as you howled in pain from the transformation, hearing your bones snap and crack into new places as you transformed into a large, furry monster. But Hector wasn’t truly afraid of you, just of the pain he heard you in, and he gently approached you and rested a hand on your forehead as he did his night creatures to comfort and calm them through their own transformations. You shut your eyes and leaned into his touch, waiting the transformation out together until it was complete, and you could stand at your new full height, well above him. He’d only look at you with fascination rather than fear or hatred like everyone else did

Isaac x Gorgon! Reader

He is clearly not disturbed or taken aback by monsters of any kind, he’d face one with a stoic face and calm demeanor. You came to Dracula one night after being driven away by townspeople for accidentally turning someone to stone, so he allowed you refuge in his castle and gifted you a magical blindfold that would keep you from laying your eyes upon anyone and turning them into a statue. Ever since then you’ve been loyal to him and agreed immediately to help him with your cause, and to use your ability to fight off humans that have wronged you. When you met Isaac, he was immediately intrigued but didn’t make it obvious. You spent a lot of time listening to him work and hearing his night creatures be brought to life, and he’d even guided you to pet a night creature that was calm for him

Throughout the war you formed a relationship with the cold man, though he was warm to you. Never sappy or super affectionate, but he’d do things like learn Braille for you and create plaques as labels on things for you, fight alongside you and tie your blindfold back on for you when the battle was over, create night creatures specifically to help you. He allowed you to hold his arm as you walked through the ever changing castle with him. He never thought he’d find love amongst all this chaos and death, he didn’t even want to befriend Hector because of it, but yet he found himself infatuated with you and wanting to spend as much time as he had left with you

He didn’t mind the fact he’d never be able to look into your eyes, and you didn’t mind the fact you’d never be able to look at him at all except through maybe a portrait. The two of you simply enjoyed the others presence and company, oftentimes sitting beside each other doing your own things, always having a comfortable silence between the both of you. You didn’t turn objects to stone, so if you made sure not to look at any living being, you could do things like read and he’d help make sure you wouldn’t accidentally turn anyone to stone

#castlevania #castlevania hector #castlevania x reader #trevor belmont x reader #trevor belmont #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes #alucard #castlevania isaac

[enlighten3d]

WELLL claps hand together

the story is about these teenagers trying stop an evil cult from destroying the entire multiverse, so they go to different dimensions to stop their evil ways. Also they are teenagers so they have to deal with personal angst, family issues, morality, school ect ect while trying to stop the cult leader and their right hand men

Caroline is technically the main character of my story, she is basically the bubbly, positive one of the group. Her family is rich as hell, they used to live in Taiwan as successful business people but they moved to America because they wanted to make more money. Her family doesn’t really like her and they emotionally and physically neglect her since she came out as a transgender girl and her older sister is kind of a coward and doesn’t stand up for her (fun times)

anyway she ends up having to do a group assignment with her childhood friend which she kind of drifted apart from (Andie) and some punk girl she probably has a crush on (Mimi), they eventually end up in an abandoned house and find out that their town is run by an evil cult that can teleport to different dimensions. So they feel guilty enough to stop it.

they think the best course is to beat the 7 plane hoppers who are in the way to kill the main cult leader, the stag. though out the whole thing Caroline is basically pushing through by toxic positivity saying everything is alright even though they have killed many people, she also kind of convinced herself that this is a video game and is probably more okay about sacrificing people and herself (for the better good)

Also her sister possessed during her 17th birthday party for funsies

HIII SO RRYYY IM ONLY GETTING SROUNF TO THIS NOW falls over and dies

thank you for the food that is oc lore, i am eating it om nom nom

that all sounds FUCKING AMAZING ACTUALLY. cults ?? universal travel bullshit ????? all while dealing with normal teenage bs ?? thats beautiful. poor little guys. they need a break. i CANNOT imagine trying to exist as a teenager while trying to take down a cult qyehdjdkkdks

dont worry.. your eldritch horror loves you... i am so glad to know that ! /silly

..fuck her family ! they can rot ! caroline )): you dont deserve any of this..

THAT MUSTVE BEEN A REVELATION ?? WOAH ?? just. doing a school project and ope government is a cult (/hyp)... insane

i actually fucking love the whole like. unwilling chosen one Vibe to all of this ?? yes theyre not chosen nor are they truly unwilling but. the Vibe is the same. the guilt (on thier part) is real...

caroline. love. youre fucked up. just like me frfr. agh thats. so cool tho ?? 'EVERYTJING IS FINE, ALL OF THIS IS A GAME !!' and ljke. fuck thats such a fun thing in fiction when a character copes using that ?? its the perfect level of fucked up bcs it rlyyy drives rhe point home and. im giving them all a shock blanket okay ?

oh boy !! thats fun !! poor sister..

what does the cult worship‽‽ i am so fucking curious..

lso like, whats the difference between each plane? is it an alternate reality sorta situation where things are relatively the same but Different, or is it judt flatout. different EVERYTHING (people, laws of physics, all that jazz)?? or somewhere in between or outside of this ofc.

do all the plane hopper guys like.. stay in different universes and have a branch of the cult established there..

why does the cult run the town in the first place ? was it a thing where like. they wrre the original settlers but then the town expanded aorund and beyond the cult ?? or did they move in and do a slow takeover.....

fuck i have so many questions /pos

this is. so cool. i love the Vibes. theyre so... Impending.. ahdjskdisjjdjsks

#asks #!!!!!!!! #eating this #bcs like #oah #woah #i have so many QUESTIONS RHAHHHHAHDHSJSNSNMSKDFJDJJFJD #starign at you w wide eyes /pos

[shieldofiron]

BTS: for Vecna Vision 3D?

Oh Maan... So many scenes are my favorite but the Joyride chapter going into Steve's Vecnavision is so actually my fave.

This whole sequence was in Steve's perspective and he's not exactly the most observant of guys so there's several layers of dramatic irony in him agonizing over Billy and coming to a realization about his sexuality at the worst possible time, aka in the middle of the upside down trying to get out. Meanwhile Billy's clearly having his heart broken by how well Nancy and Steve work as a team, and do things without thinking for each other. Poor Billy thinks its a failure of communication that he has to voice his needs (it's actually good communication.)

This sequence's got everything I want: Steve realizing he's bisexual, sexy wound tending, Billy ripping out a demodog's heart or something, car chases, Robin with a makeshift flamethrower, tender homoeroticism, and Vecna being THE drama.

Eddie and Billy flirt so much in this scene my beta converted to a full on metalsandwich reader mid-fic. Not a joke, she ONLY ships them as a triad because Eddie's SUCH a flirt. He really is just like that.

I wrote it on a plane to Austin, TX and didn't have wifi access but I mostly accurately got the town layout.

The cyclone of demobats is my favorite part, it took me a while to figure out where I wanted the sequence to go, but I love the idea of swarms and swarms of them attacking, like in The Birds. Side note, is the Creel house meant to look like this or like Bates motel?

They do show that electricity kind of does exist in the upside down, and that objects there are from a particular time, so Billy figures out pretty quickly that hotwiring a car might be a possibility. One thing I wanted to play with is that from the moment Billy figures out that the lake gate is a no go, he is not stopping until he gets them home, he can't even stand still for one moment. While Nancy is gathering clues, he's scavenging as quickly as possible. That's part of what makes him a good team member- he takes risks and works fast, because he's used to obstacles making things harder.

And can we talk about Billy's healing factor? I'm dying to talk about his healing factor. This is the first time we actually get to see him really use it, he grabs things with his bare hands that would make the rest of them shrink back in fear, like crushing demobat skulls with his bare hands. I particularly love the part where Robin asks about upside down rabies, and Billy says he's pre-infected. I wanted him to have that sort of careless dark humor about his powers, like a certain someone who shares a lot with Billy.

And finally, Steve's VecnaVision. While I appreciate Nancy's in canon, it doesn't reveal a whole lot, actually it seems to step her back in character development all the way to season 1. I understand Barb dying is her thing but it seemed a little less evolved. So I had to imagine what Steve's biggest fear would be. First, Vecna plays heavily on his intelligence, which is an obvious pain point, but then goes further. Steve is a really protective person, which of course Vecna sees as a weakness. I really wanted to show that Vecna is most powerful here, and that he can cause physical sensation, completely warping a person's sense. Why show someone a vision limited by the powers of boring physics when you can do anything. Steve's Vision includes a lot of earthly references, he's thrown through the ground, digging into dirt. He's very solid and defined, ans his sense of self is the same way.

Later when Billy goes into his vision, everything is liquidy, scenes dripping and swirling and drifting, because I wanted to show that Vecna tailors his vision not only to the person but the way the person views the world. Billy's in a moment of transition, and he feels sort of insolid and unsure about so many things. He loves the ocean, but there's a fear there too, because the ocean can also be loss.

Maybe when I write the sequel we'll get to see what Vecna would do for everyone else.

Unusual asks

#vecnavision 3d #asks #harringrove #this was fun

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

tell me a story about revealing truth through lies and the inherent paradox of existence, please!

"I suppose," Salby says, "it seems a little strange to get used to doing such things after having not done them for, what, forty years?"

I nod, but I don't know if I get what he means.

"And it's more of an abstract experience than a physical one, you see? Doing anything physical at all, much less anything involving the workings of one's body, has been a luxury for me for decades. A luxury I didn't even realize I missed, really."

The year is 2047. Salby still lives in the town where he had lived for the last 20 years of his life: the town which had been burned down and rebuilt in 2021, after the Blackhats had taken all his stuff and burned down his house.

The place has the air of the fanciest suburb, built and planned at some point in the not-too-distant-future when money is so plentiful as to be meaningless and technology is so omnipresent as to be invisible. The town is white and green. Vast expanses of manicured lawn give way to mighty oaks at the end of the block. The street is choked with cars. The cars are pure, untainted light-gray, never soiled with human-dirt. A few minutes ago a car made of some new material had come to take us from Salby's mansion to the lab.

We had taken a strange, disconnected route to get here: first through the old town, utterly devoid of people, where a few of the residents had spent their last days, huddling over their laptops and unspeakable delicacies from the city's giant Sysco warehouse. The smell of burning was still in the air. The town was utterly empty and lifeless, and yet there was a giddy sense of exciting possibility. Salby had led the way, singing songs of his childhood which had already been centuries obsolete. One of the songs was about trains and cars, and the unfamiliar wonders of the 'gallons' and 'liters' metric systems.

Outside town, a street sign indicated that we were already on the way to the lab. We took a left, and a left again, and yet another left, then another, then another. We circled back and forth and wound our way on through new subdivisions, looking not for a landmark or a street but for a huge roadside billboard that had appeared on the map.

"What's that billboard you're looking for again?" I asked.

"Cherry's Burger Shop. A big yellow billboard. Like, huge, you know?"

He was right; it was huge. I could see it even through the mirage of shimmering billboards and illuminated signs that wreathed the road like a shield, on the way to the lab.

Salby mumbles to himself as he pilots the little chariot, the keys clicking in his nimble fingers.

"I hope you don't mind. I'm just running on memories here. I don't know my way around your corner of this town very well. And if it were any later, there'd be traffic. It's good that you're here -- you can act as a kind of backup."

He sets the car on auto and cuts the wheel with both hands.

"That's right, right . . . like you said. Thank you for helping me."

I'm not the only one he's saying this to. In my mind, I can see what I know is there -- a bed, with a blanket over it, in a corner, in a half-lit, black-and-white hallway, where the padded, fake fur on the hall's walls has worn away in places, revealing a grimier texture underneath.

There is a doorway behind me. And then a door, with a little doorknob, dusted with hair, a few inches away. It is a different time and a different place. Everything is different, in fact. You and I know this. And he knows it too.

Salby is me, in the past. He knows what I know. He knows what I am going to tell him. He knows what I am going to do.

And yet, what would he do if he knew all this? What would you do, reader? Would you do what I'm going to do?

An hour ago I was on my way to visit Salby when I took a wrong turn. This is a small town, and now, for reasons of my own, I must navigate a tricky path between the streets on this map. There are no intersections here, and no crosswalks; there is no one on the street but myself and my car. And I must continue on this path until I have gone a certain distance. The next turn is all the way on the other side of town, and that is where I am going. I do not wish to arrive at the final destination too soon. For now, I just have to keep on keeping on.

Am I tired, reader? I am. I know I've been driving a long time. But then again, you must think I'm a much older man than I am, so I suppose it doesn't matter. Look. I can still see the little doorknob out of the corner of my eye. But I'm not being irrational, reader. This is Salby, after all. There's no one around, no one to explain anything to, no one to trust.

You trust your Salby, reader. I trust my Salby too. He is an intricate part of who I am. Sometimes I feel like I am his narrator, and he is not even a character in my story, but a verbal saint, a fictive creation of my own narrative, perfect, existing in the pages of my mind before they are the pages of my mind's eye. I cannot help but love him. I cannot help but feel as though there is something worthwhile in the world, something beyond the physical act of reading, something beyond even the fact that I am reading at all.

You, reader, see my situation, but you do not see yourself as I see you. You see yourself in the past, in the future. You see your Salby, and your reader, and your time, as a part of something larger, as one part of a coherent whole. It is my fate to only see pieces, here and there.

And if I'm so tired, reader, it is not my own fault.

(Somewhere in the town, a dog is barking. It is the sound of many dogs, and I know they are coming closer. But they are small, not the ones who chased us into the woods, not the ones who tore through the house and were scared off by the piano. They are coming closer, they are closing in.)

I can still see the door. I can see the open door, and hear the voices on the other side, and see the white blanket, and I know this is not a wrong turn. I did not want to return home yet. I will know when I'm home, when I'm safe.

"Think I'm lost," I said.

"You are lost, in a sense. It is one of the rare things left to the lost, to really get lost. But I believe you're close to home now. This is a residential area, see? This is the sort of neighborhood where they would build a house."

"The house is . . . in the ground, here, isn't it, Salby?"

"You can't ask for more than that, from a home."

He pauses. I can see the cars up ahead, on the shimmering ribbons of street. I know what the cars mean. I look down the street in the opposite direction.

"There's only one right turn I can make here," I say.

"You know, that's the trick with being lost, reader. You don't go where you can't go, you go where you can. And you know, in your heart, that one of the two ways is the one you want."

"We just have to make a right turn?"

"And then go straight on. You'll see the front door from there."

The house will be, I know, just like the one in the street, except on a larger scale. It will have a garage out back, and a second story, which will be an attic, if I know anything about Salby. It will have no windows. It will be warm, in the cold winter. The door will open into a kind of foyer, or something like it, and then into a long hallway, with doors off it. The front door will be at the far end, and my room will be halfway down the left side, second door down. It will be a spare bedroom, with a bed, made of bone, and a body on it, lounging, draped in fake fur.

We take the right turn.

#vividrebellions

[draiochteve]

A continuation of my new step in life

I know I've been scarce, but I've been so busy I just haven't taken the time to drown myself on socials like I use to.

It's been almost a week since he landed and my world has changed so much. My parents are upset he didn't stay with us longer and wanted to rush to the apartment, but as stated before he can only handle them for so long. He's settle in and despite being homesick and having his frustrations (it is a culture shock for sure) he is adjusting well. All of his things arrived and we are slowly filling up the apartment with our lives.

I've spent nearly every day with him, only coming home when my family demands which is at night. Why the fuck they thing preventing me from spending the night will stop us from fucking is beyond me and my uncle also finds it ridiculous, but he's at least helping protect us and giving us plenty of time alone before my shifts. I've honestly really considered walking over to the courthouse and just getting shit done to avoid having to come home again, but I know that will cause more issues than solve problems rn.

I've gotten to play more of FFXVI and I'm just falling in love with new inspirations again. We can watch whatever movies and shows we want pretty openly without fear of someone barging in. I get the joy of finishing work and easily walking over to our apartment to settle into his arms and relax. We are as content in doing our own things as we are snuggling on the couch. It's very peaceful and it makes me mourn how long it's taken to get to this point.

As embarrassing as this is to admit (and this is pretty traumatizing I will warn), I am a touch starved person. I am in the situation where upon developing enough in my AFAB body around 13, all the men in the family (which is most of everyone in the house) were ordered to no longer touch me. It's a long conversation about how easily sexualized I was and considered a temptation to even my own brothers 8+ years older than me, and there is an even longer conversation to be had about how fucking common this is in evangelical households, but I have not the energy.

That background, however, has always left me in an odd spot with intimacy and relationships. I am easily overwhelmed yet crave the physical. I've never been able to find a happy medium in past relationships and this one was hard for me to prepare for as we've been dominantly long distance for so long. I knew when we were together that I felt more comfortable than with anyone else, but with what fleeting time we had there is no proper judge of how that will be in the long term. But this...there is a balance I've needed all this time I finally have. Dalton is patient and attentive. He is understanding and we compliment each other well. Maybe it's just because we are two traumatized, anxious people that it just ends up working out idk. But whatever it is, it's working.

To top it off, we've done so much exploring around town it's amazing. Something that's always fucking bothered me is my family sheltered me terribly after I was born and seemingly forgot they did so. Where my brothers grew up walking around the town I will be living in, I never did. My biggest outings were shopping or when my old friends would sneak me out way outside of the range my parents agreed to. This means I know next to nothing about the town I will be living in despite living not so far away from it and my parents have a habit of looking at me shocked when I say I never have been to that local drug store or the coffee shop around the corner. It's because I haven't because I was rarely if ever able to. They did it a million times growing up and just lost touch I suppose.

But today, I got to finally have those firsts. We walked 2-3 miles today. I found paths and walkways I've never seen before. Explored stores I never knew existed. Got to see so much that always been right here yet I never got to see. To Dalton it was a pretty boring walk to get his general bearings around town, to me it was an adventure. And he realized as much really fast and ended up walking way more than he really wanted to just so I could get a better taste of what freedom will be. I have blisters, but each one was worth it. And soon, I'll be able to walk these ways on my own. Why aren't I already you may be asking? Because I can't risk family or my father driving to a customer seeing me alone because I am not allowed to walk anywhere in town alone (I've done it a couple times secretly but they were brief and I more or less jogged to get where I wanted and back before I was missed). I can only have that should my husband decide it's okay and unfortunately Dalton is not yet. The entire situation really pisses him off and I know how frustrated he is by it, but I appreciate him deeply taking the time to navigate that and spend a day wasting time exploring.

September 30th and these stupid fucking games will be over with. September 30th and I am released from a fucking life I never asked for.

So why am I typing all of this here? To document it I suppose. To scream out to the world this is happening and did happen. This is where I am right now -- on the cusp of what should have been mine a long time ago.

I'm sorry fic updates are not coming, but I need this release and relief. I feel like I'm finally living. And while I will eventually return to my keyboard and phone, that is not what I am to do right now. I've spent most of my life escaping in my head. Now, I don't necessarily have to. So, I thank everyone again for the patience with me. And I thank everyone for their well wishes last update. I'm sorry I startled/disturbed some with the details of my life. I haven't been too secretive, but they've been said in places easy to miss or lose. This is a little more solid.

I've been in a fucked up place for so long. I've been suffering for so long and not rocking the boat for my own safety. It has to be known because this is a part of me even if it's one I am finally moving passed.

It's finally happening.

#drai rambles #personal

[radley-writes]

Hi, sorry if I'm being presumptuous, ignore this if I am, but do you have any advice for someone looking to get into a career as an editor?

I want to try getting into it as a career, but generally I'm not sure how to do that and a lot of advice sites I find aren't that clear or helpful.

Hoo boy - I have advice specific to my own circumstances and experiences, but you might not like it.

First: figure out if you want to be salaried or not. I would personally reccommend salaried over freelance. Some people really enjoy the freelance lifestyle, but I am not one of them. The thought of having to do so much research and networking just to land jobs, rather than the security of going to the same job every day? Terrifying!

I can only speak about salaried editorial work - I know nothing of freelancing, sorry! If you're after freelance advice, this is not the post for you.

Second: look in your local area to get a start. Not a big city. (Unless you already live in a big city, of course!)

I went for a relatively 'small' local publishing house (still a big global brand with offices in China, Singapore, US, etc., but technically 'Indie'). The alternative was a London-based firm where competition was intense and you’d be lucky to land a 6-month unpaid internship with no job at the end. Which - lol nope. It’s surprising how many tiny local imprints there are! I found three in my local town alone, which I didn’t know existed until I started looking.

The beauty of this is, once you get a bit of experience with a small firm, you'll be in a much better place to transfer to a larger one, if you want!

Third: be privileged.

When I was 17, the summer before I left for uni, I didn't need to earn money because at that point, my dad was still employed. This meant I could live with my parents and work for six weeks for free.

So I spent my pre-uni summer holiday working unpaid. The company were absolutely lovely to me, and they offered me a job once I graduated, because I'd been working on-and-off for them while at uni, too. But that was a minimum wage job. For me, as a Cambridge graduate, that was a lowball.

I took it because I loved the people there, and frankly, my disabilities, mental and physical, were crippling me in more ways than one. I just could not face job hunting, and no way would I have been able to physically handle working anywhere more intense or fast-paced. At the time, this job was exactly what I needed.

But if you need to earn money to support your family (which I will soon need to do, which is why I'm changing careers!) editing is not a great choice. As the adage goes: Publishing Doesn't Pay. Not for several years, at least.

So: if you are able to work for free for a few weeks, then scrape by on minimum wage for at least a year before you start to work your way up in the company (mostly because everyone else on your level has given up and quit...) then hopefully this advice helps. But that's a pretty big but.

Don't get me wrong - editing is fascinating, it's intense, you meet fucking incredible people and if you have a good team, the office can buzz with energy and run like a machine to which copious spurts of WD-40 have been applied. It's an awesome job! But the biggest gatekeeper preventing entry from hopeful applicants, in my experience, is whether or not you have financial burdens.

I hope that's a bit helpful, and I'm sorry if it's disheartening! Best of luck x

[theflowerofthecommonwealth]

Random Questions for Jasmine to Answer

Thought it would be fun to ask Jasmine a bunch of questions for no other reasons than I wanted to. Some are sad, others are less sad.

But OMG I forgot this existed! It’s been sitting in my drafts since May and I forgot some of the answers I wrote so it made me laugh to reread them.

Jasmine: (Sitting at Nicks desk with her legs crossed, a pile of papers in her hands) “Well, guess we are breaking the fourth wall today.” (Flips the papers around) “So many questions, y'all lucky I ain't taking this as an interrogation session.” (Clicks her tongue, rifling back to the first page) “Lets get started then.” What is your name?: “Jasmine. If you want a last name as well, then Valentine.” How old are you?: “About 15.”

How do you style your hair?: “Braids are my go to standard. Keeps this long curly hair I insist on keeping out of my face.”

What kind of clothing do you wear?: “Tactically? Cargo pants and a jacket that are both tailored to my needs.”

Do you wear makeup?: What kind?: “I know how to apply makeup beautifully, but I don't wear it. There isn't much left of the prewar stuff anyways.”

What is your skin tone?: “Uh…” (Glances at her hand and arm) “Like a light honey brown? Golden tan? Never gave it much thought because I don’t care.”

Where were you born?: “Hm, I believe I was found as an infant somewhere in downtown Boston. God only knows where I was exactly born, and who to.” What did your father and mother do for a living?: “I don't know what exactly my adoptive father did prewar times, I know he was in the military at some point. My adoptive mom did a lot of odd jobs at odd hours, again I don't know what. Nick, my Dad, is a private detective.”

Were you well off? Middle class? Impoverished?: “Prewar, right on the very thin line between absolutely broke, and regular broke. We had a cozy house and all, but everything else was a little more scarce. Clothes we got second hand and mended ourselves, sometimes we didn't power, heating, or dinner. Nowadays I guess we are considered middle class by Wasteland standards, have enough to eat, roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, not getting raided every twenty seconds…”

Do you have siblings? If so, what are their names and ages?: “Had an sister named Lilac, who was five years older than me. And a brother named Cosmos, who was three years younger. Both are now long off dead. Right now I guess you could say I have a lot of people who act like older siblings to me. Especially Ellie, Hancock and Piper.”

Where do you fall in the birth order? The oldest, youngest?: “Middle child, but I took the role of the oldest from Lilac. Now I am one of the youngest in our little family-like group, and the only kid who can go out on missions or cases.” Which one of you is your mother’s favorite?: “None. She never play favorites with any of us, even though I was the only adopted child.”

Where did you grow up? Is this a place you’d go back to now? Or avoid?: “I think the town I lived in was called Pepper Valley or something close to that. I have to avoid it now because its in the Glowing Sea, nothing left there worth seeing or visiting anyways. The Vault I spent over a decade in since I was nine is down near New York. No, I don't want to ever go back there…”

Do you still have friends there? Or family?: “Everyone from then and there is dead.”

How did you do in school?: “I soaked up knowledge quickly like a sponge, but I would rather have been doing something active then sit around listening to a half hearted lessons by teachers who barely gave a shit. Who knows, maybe I would've been a genius if the public education system was better.”

What was your favorite subject?: “Gym, because that is where my physical capabilities shinned the most. Guess who was never picked last for teams?”

What was your greatest talent?: “Obviously my extreme athletic and super human abilities. I’m just surprised I haven’t gotten magical abilities yet.”

How far did you advance in your education?: “In a normal public school, I got all the way up to third grade. Afterwords I took lessons up in the Vault in an empty classroom. Most of the time I was learning from reading a worksheet and a occasional book. Other times I listening to an old hag with a ruler droning on about whatever the subject and correcting my every mistake with a smack.”

What is your life like at the moment?: “Pretty good compared to all the other possibilities I could be living. I have basically everything I need, and more.”

Where do you live now?: “At the Valentines Detective Agency in Diamond City. Its pretty small, but cozy. Dad helped me make my little sleeping space feel a little more prewar and personalized.”

What are your physical surroundings like? Are they comfortable, safe, or dangerous?: “We live in one of the more safer places in the Commonwealth. But that doesn't mean there isn't trouble. A lot of people don't like synths, so more than once have we woken up to pounding at our door or something being thrown at it. Get some pretty nasty threats and comments too, but Nick is somehow used to it. Other than that there is just the looming possibility of an attack from Raiders or Super Mutants, like everywhere else.”

Who lives with you?: “Its just me and Nick living here in the agency full time but Ellie is here so much she might as well be counted too.”

How do you get along with them? If you don’t get along, what is the source of conflict?: “We all get along almost perfectly and in harmony, either working together on a case or relaxing with one another.”

Do you have/had children?: (Looks away from the paper) “....pass.”

What do you do for a living? Are you self-employed, or do you work for someone else?: (Brightening up again) “Oh! I work with Dad on any cases he takes up. He gives me a small cut of the pay in case I want to buy extra stuff for myself, but I never do.”

If you use drugs or alcohol, how do you feel about it? Do you brag about it? Try to hide it? Try to give it up and fail? Have no problem with it?: “With drinking its really hard for me to get drunk or gain any lasting negative side effects, so its fine if I chug down some bottles. Chems are a bit difficult. I was forcefully pumped with all sorts of strange and strong stuff for six years, then willingly continued afterwords. No, Im not proud of it, but it helps free me from my troubles for a blissful moment. Its hard to hide it when you're Dad is a detective, if he asked me outright Id would admit it. Otherwise I just tried to keep quiet about it.”

What do you do to entertain yourself?: “I’ve learned how to live without entertainment.”

What is your idea of a really fun time?: “An entire day spent at the lake or pool. Or just hanging out with people I love.”

Are your parents still living?: “Biological? They both probably died in the bombs, if not before. Adopted are also both dead. Nick is alive and perfectly healthy, or I guess functional, at the moment. Wouldn't be lying if I said I wasn't worried about him also dying... If that’s a possibility for a synth like him.”

If so, where are they now? Nearby or far away?: “Dad is out on a case right now, he wouldn't let me tag along after I got smacked out cold during the last one. But I'm usually glued to his side.”

How did they raise you as a child? Were they strict or lenient? Did they pay attention to you, or were they more interested in other things?: “Mamá tried her best to tend to us, but she just couldn't as much as she should with working so much to keep us afloat.”

If one or more of your parents are deceased, when did they die?: “Adopted father was mugged and murdered right before Christmas when I was two. Mami died in a car crash when I was just about turning nine.”

Where are you in your life right now? What are you most pleased with right now?: “According to Nick, Im at a healing process in life after all the traumatic and abusive shit I was shoved through. So its a very wonky and painful at times, the past slapping me down at the worst moments. But… I have people that support me, and I am grateful for that.”

What keeps you awake at night?: “Other than my chronic insomnia caused by a whole string of things? I don’t know for sure. Its never due to the comfortableness of my sleeping position, I can virtually fall asleep anywhere. Slept against a cold hard floor and if I was lucky a wooden bed during the Vault times. Sometimes I fell asleep standing right up against the wall, felt safer that way...”

Would you trade ten years of your life to be richer?: “No. Money wont buy a you a second of lost time, unless someone is holding a gun to you're head and threatens to shoot if you don't pay up.”

What memory makes you swell with pride?: “When my little brother Cozzy finally got the hang of riding a bike. Heh, we spent hours trying to get him to balance… But it was worth it to see the smile on his face.”

If you could relive one day of your life without changing anything that happened, which day would you choose?: “The day my Mamá had a day off and she took us for a hike and a picnic at the beach. We spent the entire day swimming, playing volleyball, burying each other in the sand, hiking the high trails, just having a good time as a family. The sunset that day was also magnificent… One of the best I've ever seen.” (Smiles softly to herself)

How would your best friend describe you?: “Dogmeat? Uh, he'd probably bark happily and lick my face, which in doggy language means Im good.”

How would your parents describe you?: “I don't know what Mamá would think of me now, I always imagined disappointment and disgust on her face. Nick sees me differently then I see myself, so I also don't know. I will ask him when he gets back.”

What do you think about in the shower?: “How much longer must I remain in this vulnerable state and can I kill a man with a bar of soap.”

Do you stay up late or wake up early?: “Both. Although Nick insists I try to get into bed by 10pm if possible, and I cant really put up a strong argument with that.”

What do you do if you can’t sleep?: “Thats almost every night for me. Nick usually holds me until I do fall asleep if he is not busy. It’s a good thing, it gives him a chance to also rest. Daddy works like a machine way too much of the time, but he needs some form of rest like the rest of us.”

Who or what do you turn to when you’re upset?: “For the longest time it was only hurting myself. Cutting, scratching, pinching, burning, and punching a wall until I cant feel my hands. I still have the urge to do that, but I try to either talk it out with Daddy or keep my hands far away from myself.”

Can you lie easily?: “Yes. It was one of the many Vault courses I was forced to take, learn to be able to lie or make something seem like a lie on a whim. I try not to use any of those techniques unless I really have to.”

How can the other people tell when you're lying?: “They can’t if I don’t want them to.”

Have you ever done something illegal?: Prewar childhood times, nothing too bad. The worst thing I did was sneak into a police station with Lilac my older sister to get ahold of some dusty old files. We almost got caught, but other than that nothing else except for some trespassing and misuse of public property.”

Do you pick wildflowers?: “When I can find some on the barren earth? Yes, at least one to put in my hair or press into a book.”

Muffins or cupcakes?: “If I could eat them? Cupcakes, although they both sound good.” (Tilts her head) “I should try making some, for everyone else to try at least.”

If you spray-painted a city wall, what would you write/draw?: “One of those giant cat motivational posters saying BELIEVE or something like that.

You wake up permanently invisible. Do you ask for help right away, or do you stay hidden?: “I would run to Dad for help, probably scare the hell out of the old man in the process, then fall over in defeat.”

Jeans, skinny jeans, or sweatpants?:“Sweatpants, I can move around easier in them.”

How far can you spit a watermelon seed?: “Last time I checked? Across a classroom. In my defense, that girl was getting on my nerves and the look on her face when it hit her glasses and nose was priceless.”

Do you sleep in normal clothes or pajamas? To what degree are you clothed?: “I would sleep in my day clothes all the time, but both Ellie and Dad insist that I change into something clean and light.”

What are your three favorite types of flowers?: “Almost obvious. Roses, Lilacs, Cosmos, and Jasmines are my top three. But I like almost every flower.”

When you sneeze: hand, elbow, or nada?: “Elbow. Its disgusting that many people just blow it out globs of spit and mucus with no regard of everyone else. Ewwww, you can feel the particles.”

What was the last thing you thought about stealing?: “A key for some warehouse out of some guys pocket during the last case I went on with Nick. Good thing I did, we found the runaway tied up in there and were able to get them out alive, eventually.”

When was the last time you physically attacked something?: “During the same case. I got into a scuffle with a big brute on our way out. The runaway almost surrendered back to their captures and I had to jump in to save them.” (Points to her bruised head) “One of the baddies got a good hit in.”

Your favorite thing about riding a Ferris Wheel?: “When it suddenly stops at the very tippy top and you are just swaying from the force and the wind.”

Are you a cat, dog, or horse person?: “Cats and dogs, fight me if ya want me to pick just one.”

Do you prefer raw cookie dough or fully baked cookies?: “Fully baked homemade cookies with a warm glass of milk...” (Smiles dreamily)

Are you ticklish?: “Yeah I think so, just good luck trying to tickle me without dying.”

Do you prefer floral/outdoor scented candles, or candles that smell like food?: “Ugh, I hate the very smell of food. Course I choose the flowers.”

Do you pay attention to the weather forecast?: “Haha, the closest we get to that is Nick squinting up at the sky while holding up a finger and going, “Seems like rain.” So yes, I do pay attention.”

Do you give nicknames to other people?: “I don't use nicknames on a regular basis unless said person tells me directly to call them that. I hardly get call by Jasmine from anyone close anymore, everyone has their own nicknames for me other than the typical Jazzy or Jas.”

When you go to the beach, do you use sunscreen? Lotion or spray-on?: “For someone who doesn't have any skin- Daddy is the sunscreen police with me. And he insists every time that the spray on is no good because the old Nick used it once at the beach and ended up with a nasty burn.”

Do you sing in the car, in the shower, or both?: “We don’t have cars anymore and it’s a rare day when I’m comfortable enough to sing in the shower.”

Deep down, do you believe a hot dog is a sandwich?: “A piece of overly processed meat in between two slices of bread? Sounds like a sandwich to me.”

Long sleeves or spaghetti straps?: “Longed sleeved. More practical out here, and it hides more.”

What’s the weirdest place you've climbed up on?: “Hah, probably a one of those stripper signs, the ones with the legs and high heels. I was trying to navigate back home and needed a good spotting point that I wouldn't get sniped from and it was my best bet.”

Would you rather fly or be immortal?: “I am already on the borderline of being immortal, so flying ‘cause why not have another super ability.”

If you were forced to dye their hair, would you rather dye it purple or neon green?: “I think purple would draw the least amount of attention of the two, especially if its dark.”

Most embarrassing middle school moment?: “I didn’t attend middle school.”

On a road trip, are you the driver, the DJ in the passenger seat, or one of the people eating snacks and huddled under the bags in the back?: “Drivers helper in the passengers seat.”

What would you do if you were locked in a room with a rat?: “I would befriend the rat and train it to crawl through a small hole in the wall to let me out.”

Your crush asks you to dance and pulls you to the dance floor. How do you react? Do you try to hide their feelings? And most importantly, do you dance?: “Let’s first push past the low probability of a guy liking me enough back to have the guts to pull me onto the dance floor. If he gets that far without getting the living daylights knocked out of him, then I guess we could do a few songs, if he can keep up.”

Jasmine: (Tosses the piles of paper behind her) “Welp, that’s enough of that for today.” (Squints at the floor) “Why the hell did I even do this again…?”

#This is a good exercise to get to know your own character. #I honestly just googled the questions #I dunno. It’s fun to write as Jazzy. #But like I said. I forgot I had written this #So coming back with barely any memories of the answers was sooooo interesting #fallout 4 #fallout #fo4 #fallout original character #fallout oc #nick valentine #ellie perkins

[intheseawithmoses]

258. It’s always hard to determine how gregarious I actually am, the first clue being my visceral reticence to nights out with large groups of people which, for a 20-something year old freshly out of a global pandemic is probably going to be a considered an offense in the future. I already faintly hear my future 50-year old self insulting me with all her might, and this on a daily basis. Another clue is how alive and content I feel after having spent time around other fleshed people, which I hear is a known fact of human existence but we still act like we’re the ones discovering that it’s actually a basic human need, you know. Where there is no surprise is actually in this contrast, a defining characteristic of my life since always. I don’t give myself enough credit for naturally striving toward finding some semblance of balance; there is nothing more aggressively social and perhaps even gregarious than film shoots, yet this is the field I chose to pursue. I reach balance by spending most of the rest of my time completely isolated and conducting activities that don’t even require me to emit sounds, for example writing or solo cinema-going. The incompatibility of a social life with my extremely high-maintenance, regimented routine is my cross to bear, and for this cross I am grateful. There are obviously worse problems in life. But some days, very rarely but not unheard of, my competing and vital life organisms of human contact and focused flow (the so-called “process”) reach symbiosis. Those days are the days that the fear of death grips me the fuck back. Yesterday was perhaps one of those days, where everything flows and happens so effortlessly you truly start believing you are God’s favorite child. A spontaneous visit to E’s house after the morning writing and scheming came close to the feeling of a perfectly timed cigarette break (I said close), an out breath that doesn’t make you feel like you occupy your body wrong.  I found a vest and a jacket that occupied my body like they were incestuous siblings; it is wrong how much they can’t get enough of each other (sorry). I then sat at the café’s bar like some fucking swank of a person to work on editing a paper about flamenco dance teachers. On the other side of it, a woman who can only be physically described as an Instagram fit girl, with her slick blonde ponytail, her fake tan and fitted white running vest, drank beer and by drank beer I mean she got the tester glasses and everything each time, with serious discussions with the bartender about undertones and flavors, all while reading Kafka. Art wishes it could imitate life. The day ended with rosé ciders on rosé-colored leather seats at a bar with E, who delighted me in conversation about how All Of Us Strangers left her, I quote, with super dry eyeballs. I was invited back for dinner and a wine bottle her parents had brought from France, over which we discussed what were the tiniest countries in the world, what were people up to there, and what is a country, really. It is only fair, probably, that it should all end on the sour note of losing my keys and having to deal with the embarrassment of waiting for my roommate to let me in, and borrowing a spare I’m gonna have to make a copy of. Looking back, all that coming and going around different places in town with a stuffed tote bag and my careless (God’s favorite kid has no fear) use of it could only result in that. As we speak, those keys could be anywhere, from the metro to the thrift shop to the sewing supplies shop to the streets to the café to the bar to the bus. I’ve never lost keys in my life so perhaps it was time. Overall, I can only draw the conclusion that when I catch myself not being on top of things anymore is a good sign of my mental well being.

#diary

[blue-opossum]

Carrying Heavy Magazines and Comic Books through Dream Space

        Carrying Heavy Magazines and Comic Books through Dream Space

        Monday morning, 27 November 2023

        Dreaming makes us forget things in a way that we cannot when we are awake. Natural virtual amnesia simply from not being conscious creates compartmentalization in ways that are impossible with consciousness.

        In this first dream segment, I live in the Loomis Street house. I have no recall that I have lived in Australia since February 1994. However, I recall my oldest son (who has never been to America or lived in the Loomis Street house) and his name. Packages I first thought were mine have his name on them. Reading printed text remains viable and stable in this case.

        In a self-contradicting dream event, the packages are now empty even though they had first been unopened. The room's location is ambiguous, yet I still perceive it as the Loomis Street house. I do not recall that Marilyn (half-sister on my mother's side) and her husband are deceased.

        It is nighttime as I walk outside, "remembering" that there is a dumpster that might have a stack or two of discarded comic books in it. I "walk with intent" westward on Gillette Street. I vividly feel the sidewalk's texture and coolness on the bottoms of my bare feet and feel the extraordinarily realistic motions of my walking. It is an uncomfortable sensation at times because of how sensitive the bottoms of my feet are, but I keep pressing my imagination and remain in the dream state.

        I reach an unknown dark area (with hardly any visibility) where two young men are sitting on different fences (bordering an alley), facing each other. Another man sits several feet from them but is still part of their conversation. I feel slightly wary at first, but there is no drama, and I keep walking through the area.

        I reach a dumpster implied to be on the south side of town (somewhere near Third Street) instead of where I "should" be (the north side of La Crosse) based on how far I walked. I am happy to see two piles of comic books mixed in with pieces of cardboard. They are mostly superhero comic books. I maintain a realistic sense of touch as I take sections of them out until I have a stack over a foot high. Even so, I plan to carry them back (to the Loomis Street house). I want to come back and get the rest before someone else does. I briefly look at one, but it seems to be an ambiguous mix of a travel magazine and a comic book.

        As I am walking back, I realize it is pointless because they only exist in the dream state. After a few minutes, there is no imagery, even though I still feel my walking motions and the weight of the comic books I supposedly carry. This perception is similar to many previous dreams. This content correlates with the usual arm mobility factor (and, to an extent, leg mobility).

        An offset dream forms of being with Zsuzsanna, as if we are "getting together again," but it is also as if from when we first met. My mentation has no physical integration in the dream state at this point. It involves wondering about getting an apartment together, which contradicts the previous dream's first scenario of living in the Loomis Street house with our oldest son. It is unknown if this narrative is taking place in Australia or America. (Zsuzsanna has never been to America.)

        One possible reason for why a person who believes in "dream interpretation" in contrast to legitimately understanding the causality of navigating sleep with self-awareness (including physiological responses to REM sleep and REM atonia) might have poor recall (of their dreams) is that they are more focused on finding symbolic meanings in their dreams than on paying attention to the actual content and context of their dreaming experiences (many of which have literal associations or impersonal influences, such as from movies recently watched). By relying on external sources of interpretation, such as books, websites, or so-called experts, they may neglect to develop their own skills of memory and reflection that are essential for recalling and understanding dreams. Furthermore, they may have a tendency to distort or forget aspects of their dreams that do not fit their preconceived notions or expectations of what dreams should mean. This could lead to a loss of information and accuracy in their dream reports. Additionally, they may experience cognitive dissonance or emotional resistance when confronted with dreams that challenge their beliefs or values, which could also impair their recall and comprehension.

#dream journal #meaning of dreams #dreaming #my dreams

[dgds10]

God saved my life

At some point in my life, I plunged deep into despair. Constant mental pain. Without help. Without hope. I even planned to commit suicide.

And it was at this critical moment that I remembered God. On my knees in tears, having expressed to God everything that had accumulated over several years of depression, I felt relieved, I felt that I was not alone. Step by step, I got to know and understand God better. Along with the realization of God's absolute love and forgiveness, pain gradually disappeared from my life, replaced by joyful hope. After all, God saved my life.

I was born into a Christian family. I had a normal life. I had problems and difficulties, just like other people. Nothing too special.

I had a good childhood. I was a child, so I didn't pay attention to the prerequisites of the problems that made themselves felt in adolescence.

At the age of 12, I was still happy. However, at the age of 13-15 (I can't remember exactly. From constant stress, part of my memories are hazy) problems began to pile up on me one after another, then all at once accumulating. My health problems could lead to serious complications, as well as significantly ruin my life in adulthood. Family problems led to a painful divorce of my parents. Their example and authority was crumbling before my eyes. I was one of the best students in my school. I own an achievement that is still the best and unique for my school. Having achieved this, I realized that I didn't want to continue being the best. I wanted to be better than some, but worse than others. Look for yourself. To pursue their own interests. I wanted to live and study, not live for the sake of studying. But the pressure from relatives, students and teachers, even from just acquaintances, did not allow me to breathe freely. I wanted love, but relationships scared me.

I got depressed. My relations with relatives and friends have deteriorated. I was not comfortable at home, at school, in church, anywhere in the town where I lived. I became lonely. I've always been sure that God exists. But it was my parents' God. Not my personal one. Subconsciously, I understood that God was able to help me, but it seemed to me then that neither prayer, nor Bible study, nor God himself was helping me.

In the beginning, I didn't even understand what was happening to me. I woke up early in the morning with a pressing and aching pain inside. Desperate for the start of a new day. I was alone all day. I cried a lot. I could cry until I fell asleep late at night with endless and unbearable pain. This affected my studies in such a way that I went from being one of the best students to one of the worst. My life seemed to me like a lump or a whirlwind of endless problems. Nobody and nothing helped me. I was alone. I didn't want to live.

I found a "way" to deal with mental pain with physical pain. I started scratching my hands with the sharpest object in our house. At first, the barely noticeable and barely perceptible scratches became longer and deeper each time, periodically bleeding. The cuts didn't heal for a long time. Even though I tried to hide them, but deep down I hoped that at least someone would notice my pain and help me (at least my mom). But this did not happen. Everyone seemed to ignore me. I was plunged into despair. I blamed God for being born and living. I dreamed of death, which seemed to me the only way out of pain. I was losing the remnants of the fear of death. My family's religious beliefs have kept me from attempting suicide for a long time. In the end, one day I couldn't stand it. I picked up a knife. I almost forgot about the fear of physical pain and death. If it wasn't for what happened next, I'm sure that sooner or later I would definitely have decided to die.

Thank God that while I was imagining the end of my life with a knife in my hand, I was suddenly overwhelmed by a wave of fear and horror. I dropped the knife and went back to my room. I knelt down and told God everything. Everything that happened to me. I told Him about all my problems and difficulties, about pain and fear. I realized that I wasn't alone. The Lord is with me. I realized all that I had known since childhood. “For God so loved the world, that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him shall not perish, but have eternal life." (John 3:16, Bible, NASB). Jesus Christ died for me on the cross. He sacrificed himself for me, for my salvation. He's my Savior. I thought I was the last nonentity in the world, but God himself saved me. Jesus Christ himself died for an insignificant person like me. For the first time in my life, I really realized how much it meant. The first time I cried was not because of my own problems. I cried out of gratitude for God's love for me and from the feeling that I was forgiven by God. My friends turned away from me at the right moment. My beloved father was ready to leave me. But not God. I realized that God, unlike people, loves and forgives me, no matter what I am. I decided to entrust my problems to God. I asked him to help me even in small things. And God helped. At first I was afraid to believe that it was so. But it was like that. I've realized it time and time again. And I was grateful to God for every time.

My life has improved. As soon as the problems left me, it would seem that I no longer needed God as much as before. I began to forget God again. Until new problems and difficulties began in my life. I have health problems that I didn't have before. Prolonged iron deficiency anemia without proper treatment, as well as constant stress, led to heart problems. I began to choke often. There was enough physical activity or experiences that I stopped having enough air. I managed relatively well during the day, but not at night. I couldn't get enough air while I was trying to sleep. I was suffocating. This caused a fear of death in me. I used to think that I didn't want to live, that I wanted to die. But after the onset of heart problems, I realized how much I want to live. Even if thoughts of suicide came back to me, I understood that I wanted to live. I thought of God again. Only the thought that God is still with me, and His love for me has not changed, and that He continues to forgive me, helped me relax and fall asleep at night.

A "swing" has begun in my life. Sometimes I thought about God again and trusted Him with all my problems and difficulties, then I forgot about God again and couldn't cope with stress myself. In those years, the pinnacle of my trust in Him was passing exams for admission to university. By that time I had already read the Bible completely. At some point, I came across a verse from the Bible, which I constantly repeat to myself several times every day, especially before going to bed, even to this day. "‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’" (Isaiah 41:10, Bible, NASB). At each of the exams on the draft before the very beginning, I wrote myself two verses from the Bible as a reminder that God is with me. "‘Do not fear, for I am with you; Do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God. I will strengthen you, surely I will help you, Surely I will uphold you with My righteous right hand.’" (Isaiah 41:10, Bible, NASB) and "I can do all things through Him who strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13, Bible, NASB). I passed the exams relatively successfully and entered a university in the region where I was born and to which I always dreamed of returning. Even if it wasn't the university of my dreams and not the profession of my dreams, but at that moment the main thing for me was to return to my Homeland, where my relatives lived, who always treated me well. Even the population in the region where I was born was much nicer than in the city where I grew up. It helped me a lot. But the old problems made themselves felt in the new place of residence and study.

I suffered because of my health problems. I didn't have a very good relationship with my parents. I didn't have any friends. And my studies left much to be desired. There have been no good times in my life in which I could forget about God. I constantly needed His help. And I constantly turned to Him for help. My whole life seemed too complicated to me. I couldn't change anything, no matter how hard I tried and tried. The first almost 2 years of my studies at the university were a difficult ordeal for me. However, even in those moments when I wanted to give up, God stayed with me and helped me, even if I no longer had the strength or desire to ask Him for it. He helped me even in every little thing.

I realized that I couldn't do it without God. I realized that I need God in my life always. Not only in bad times, but also in good times. I wanted God to always be with me. He was my only hope. I've asked Him to be with me many times. I asked him to help me come to him, remembering a verse from the Bible: "“Come to Me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest." (Matthew 11:28, Bible, NASB. But I didn't know and didn't understand how to do it. I wanted to hear His answer. Or that God would somehow point him out to me. But the realization came to me unexpectedly and clearly not in the way I could have expected.

I went to church again. It used to be too difficult for me mentally. But in my search for God, I felt that I needed to go to church. I forgot how nice it was to communicate with other members of the church. Sincere smiles and happiness in the eyes. Singing Christian music. A sermon. I've missed it all so much. And that's when the truth was finally revealed to me, for the understanding of which I asked God. After several church visits, I realized that I wanted to openly ask for help. Tell my story and ask for help. This was not too similar to me at that time. I have already managed to get used to solving my problems myself. But I was acutely aware of the desire not to keep my pain and doubts to myself. I trusted the first person I met in church. I didn't plan this. But it was from him that I felt the desire to help, even though he hardly knew me. One day I told him what was happening to me. His reaction and words, in which I felt sincere concern and compassion, helped me a lot. She also told me at the end of our conversation that I was ready to become a member of the church. But I wasn't so sure. It was only after the end of the conversation that I remembered that I had not asked how I could accept Jesus Christ and come to Him. For some reason, I didn't dare ask him about it other times. As if it was something I should have figured out on my own.

It was also a difficult period in my life. I received consolation from God through Bible verses, singing Christian music and reading Christian literature. I have read some good books and articles, the contents of which I keep reminding myself. Once, right during a church service, I was moved to tears by a Christian song that I knew well from childhood, but did not think about the meaning of its words:

"You know the way, though it is hidden from me;

Since You are there my heart is filled with peace.

Why should I fear when You go on before me,

Both night and day You set my heart at ease.

You know the way! The time of my translation

Was planned before I even lived one day.

My heart is filled with wonder and elation,

For You have loved and led me all the way.

Lord, You know all, the winds that blow and

frighten—

The storms of life Your orders still obey!

And even though my burdens may not lighten,

Still, I’m at peace, because You know the way."

I remembered this song many times afterwards. And also I remembered my favorite Christian song as a child:

"I knees will bow, and hear God

Thanks to my sorrow and my.

I knees will bow and soul hear

The quiet voice of Christ, the voice of eternal love.

I knees will bow, and open sky -

Wonderful Lord region, where not go out of dawn.

And gladden the heart of the life-giving light,

And be filled with the forces of the new belief grief.

I knees will bow and see so clearly

Confusing its, and errors in the way.

I understand that Christ was me the light in the storm,

Carried me in his arms, and without anger forgiven.

I knees will bow before God the Almighty,

Your heart, as a gift, bring to the altar.

The quiet voice of Christ over him hear.

I knees will bow, I knees will bow."

But some time after talking to a member of the church, I received perhaps the most unusual consolation and encouragement in my life. Mom and I went shopping. I was tired, so I decided to come home earlier. I should have come home by a shorter way, but I went home by a longer and more beautiful way. I had nothing left to go home, when suddenly a young guy and a girl came out to meet me and asked me to take part in a survey. I agreed. It turned out that it was not so much a survey as a sermon of the Word of God. And the young people were believers from another church, not mine. They were glad that I also believe in God, even if I belong to another religion. We talked for a while, and I came home. They didn't tell me anything new. But they reminded me of Bible verses, the comfort and encouragement that is in them. It reminded me that the Lord loves me and helps me, even if I keep making mistakes. It helped me to relax and prepare for the last exam session at the university.

Before the next course, I finally visited a psychotherapist and found out that I had been suffering from a mixed anxiety-depressive disorder for the past few years. This explained to me my strange reactions to experiencing problems. I had no idea that all this time it was a mixed anxiety-depressive disorder that prevented me from living, and with it, panic attacks. I began to understand my condition better and cope with it better. Unlike the previous times when something in my life was getting better, this time I had no intention of leaving God and forgetting Him again. I felt my need for God. But how can I come to God? How to find His peace, which I needed so much? The realization came to me very strangely and unexpectedly. Before taking one of the subjects at the university, as many times before, I had a severe panic attack. I couldn't regain control of myself, no matter how hard I tried. I stopped thinking and was ready to give up again. Usually, in such cases, I used to throw a tantrum, hurt myself, mentally called myself a nonentity. But this time I started talking to God. In prayer, I suddenly realized that the Lord was always with me. He always loved and forgave me. I didn't deserve His love, His forgiveness, or His help. But the Lord continued to be with me, to love me, to forgive me, to help me. The only thing I had to do was accept Him in my life. And I realized that I had already accepted Jesus Christ as my personal Savior a few years ago, kneeling down and telling God instead of suicide. The episode from my life in which God saved me turned out to be the acceptance of Jesus Christ. I realized that I had already come to God and that I had already received His peace and hope. I received them already at the moment when He died on the cross. But I only realized it now. I was so grateful to the Lord for this discovery. I felt how God's peace filled my soul and how my heart stopped hurting. Even my panic attack stopped, and I was able to attend the class, which was quite successful. On the same day, I wanted to share my happy news with everyone. I told about the incident to a member of the church who supported me some time ago. I realized that I was really ready to join the church.

At the moment, I still have numerous problems, from which I sometimes get too tired. But now I know for sure that I'm not alone. The Lord is with me. God loves me. God forgives me. God is helping me. Always. I feel like he's changing my character for the better. I really hope that other people will also be able to realize that the loving and forgiving Lord will always be with them if they accept Him in their lives. God saved my life. I am grateful to Him that I am still alive and have the opportunity to tell others about my own salvation.

Thank God!

#God #Jesus Christ #Lord #religion #christianity #bible #church #cross #prayer #faith #hope #love #redemption #salvation #help #happiness #peace #depression #despair #pain #loneliness

[yourdogwalkerhasanonlyfans]

pt. 2

story continues in the spring of 2016. i was completely reeling from a miserable existence. things were going pretty badly in all areas of my life: at work, in my romantic life, and with my personal health. i got out of one of the most horrifying relationships of my young life and felt so free for the first time that i went on Tinder, which lead to all sorts of debauchery. simultaneously i was planning to meet up with some friends to have my first MFF threesome (i guess i should talk about my first ever threesome which was MMF sometime).

i was also royally fucking up my financial situation by maxing out any credit card that i could get my hands on. pretty much all the things that someone does who is spiraling .. i was doing them.

over easter holiday i booked a super nice hotel room with a jacuzzi (that i could not afford) for a few nights and invited someone from Tinder one night, had that threesome with friends one of the nights, and had just a platonic friend who was driving through town come by for a night. i think i was alone maybe one night. i know i spent a huge amount of money on credit cards, ordering room service, being high and drunk the whole time, just really checking out from life.

not long after that bender, on mother's day evening, exactly one year after i graduated from college, i got into a fight with the guy i was sleeping with / mostly living with at the time (who i met on Tinder). we had been drinking all day at his family's house, then we smoked a bunch, then kept drinking which was usually a pretty good setup for me to blackout. remember - at this time i am also on a heavy dose of psych meds + struggling with an eating disorder; might have weighed 90 pounds at most. so it's 2 or 3AM, there's me, him, his two pit bulls, and my siamese cat. at his apartment, which is located above his family's business (a porn shop). i was a complete mess. screaming and fighting and acting physically violent. i locked myself in his bathroom, poured a bunch of my Klonopin out into my hand, looked at myself in the mirror, and took the pills. i probably peed, then lit a cigarette, and went back out to the couch where he was sitting. i guess i doubt he was just sitting there - i'm sure he was following me around and trying to get me to tell him what i did while i was in the bathroom. either way, i know i was still actively drinking a beer when i told him that i took a bunch of pills. he was clearly not happy about that confession. i was probably starting to fall asleep at this point. all i really know is that he was probably all pissed off, because he didn't want to call an ambulance and attract attention, which forced him to drive me in his work van to the ER. in the shuffle of us being extremely intoxicated & fighting we had misplaced the keys to my car. which in hindsight was actually probably a good thing that we couldn't find my keys because i know before i took the handful of pills i had been trying to leave his house and drive away because it was that unbearable to be there - i would have probably died and/or hurt other people if i had gotten behind the wheel that night.

i wasn't driving, however, my very drunk and high boyfriend did have to drive the somewhat short distance to the closest ER. i literally fell out of his van onto the pavement when i opened the door, which i had many bruises from & confirmed happened, due to my lack of memories. i guess i was rude and belligerent to the ER staff. my BAC was 0.2 and i had an alarming amount of THC & benzodiazepines in my system. i think i had also been taking some pain killers here & there. either way, i was basically a zombie of a human. they flushed my system with charcoal because too much time had passed since taking the "handful" of pills to pump my stomach. i'm sure that i was considered borderline emaciated, as well.

i woke up around 1PM on that Monday with IVs in both my ankles & both hands. i was severely dehydrated in addition to needing to be detoxed. i was alone in a room. i could see the nurse's stand outside the door and started yelling for someone to come help me because i didn't know what was going on. no one was paying any attention to me and i was frustrated. i started banging my arm against the bedrail. someone eventually came in to tell me that my sister was on the phone, which was very confusing to me because i didn't even know where i was.

my sister told me that my friend had contacted my boyfriend on facebook after she received a really concerning voicemail from me the previous night. i, of course, have no recollection of this, but when i arrived to the ER and they said they had to admit me, i made two correspondences. i emailed my boss and told him i wasn't going to be at work due to "hospitalization for dehydration." then i called my friend and left her a voicemail telling her a similar story. apparently i told her that "[boyfriend] had taken me to the hospital but that i am okay." so my friend wakes up, gets that voicemail, gives me some time to get back to her, when i don't respond she panics a little and starts looking on facebook for the boyfriend. once she got in touch with him, he told her where i was, and that he left because he had to go to work, and didn't know how to get in touch with any of my friends or family. my friend then contacted my sister, who i guess after calling the hospital and confirming that i was indeed there, she left work & called my mom, telling her to prepare herself to be picked up because they had to go see me in the hospital. i guess it was a simple and not-too-surprising phone call for my mother to be receiving. everyone kinda knew what it was about.

my sister said on the phone to me that her and my mom were coming to see me .. not to pick me up. which was confusing for me to hear. not sure the exact order of events, but eventually a case worker came into my room and explained to me that i was at risk of hurting myself and the hospital couldn't release me to my family. they explained that i would be moved to another hospital & put on a 72-hour psychiatric hold. they said i would be able to talk to someone there about being released after a few days. they said i could either do this voluntarily, which was highly recommended and positioned as the best choice, or else the hospital would have to involuntarily commit me, which sounds pretty much as bad as it is. if committed involuntarily, it means you can be held at the psych hospital for much longer, as you'd have to appear in front of a group of case workers and essentially explain why you think you know better than doctors and other medical professionals. people who recently overdose aren't usually thought to be able to make smarter decisions than doctors, which means the appeal is 99% of the time denied, causing the patient to be scrutinized even closer, and as i said, held at the hospital for "liability reasons" for even longer than if you had just gone of your own volition. long explanation shortened: if you admit you have a problem and need help, go get the help, show people (/make them believe) that you want to continue to get better, then they will let you go out into the wild again. play the game and do what they tell you to do and it'll be over way faster than if you fight it.

as i reflect on this and write about it now, these words come to me easily. they make sense to me, as i exist now. of course i needed to go somewhere for treatment. but at the time it felt very confusing. i was not aware of these types of protocols. i really genuinely did not understand why my family was coming, but i wasn't going home with them. even though i was thoroughly confused, i signed the form to voluntarily commit myself.

it took a while but eventually they found a bed for me at a psych hospital. they said i'd have to be transported on a stretcher via ambulance, for liability reasons, but that my sister could ride with us, with my mother following behind in her vehicle. it took at least 30 minutes to get to this other facility, and it was getting dark outside, if not dark already. i remember joking around a lot while in the ambulance .. i always make jokes when uncomfortable or in tense situations. good ol' defense mechanism. i was encouraged when the EMT person told me that the facility i was going to allowed smoking cigarettes (this was not true).

we arrived to the psych hospital, and i remember when they were wheeling me inside an elevator, still on the stretcher, someone made a comment to my mother about ".. she is quite thin, isn't she .." this fuzzy memory is something i won't ever forget. my mother solemnly nodding, as if she hadn't really really noticed how bad i had gotten until i was laying down on a stretcher with sharp cheekbones, dark sunken eyes, chapped lips, protruding collarbones, bruised arms, & hip bones poking out from under a thin hospital gown & even thinner hospital blanket. i guess some things are easier for complete strangers to see.

my experience while at the psych hospital is something that will take up a lot of my time & mental energy, so i will continue with that next.

if you read this, thanks for your time.

#eating disoder trigger warning #mental health crisis trigger warning #addiction trigger warning #overdose mention #struggle #smoking #addiction #hospitalization #life story