#I already gave myself ulcers because of it

[xysidhequeen]

Me: The migraines are getting better! :D

The Migraines: No the fuck we are not

Me, in pain: They’re. Getting. Better.

The Migraines: Suffer

Me: If I say it enough, it'll be true

[sage-nebula]

Thinking about how much I suffered in school due to having an undiagnosed learning disability because by and large the world doesn't seem to know that there even is a learning disability when it comes to math . . . jfc

Like I got my first failing grade ever in fourth grade because I didn't understand long division and wasn't allowed to use a calculator to do it for me. It's not that I didn't want to understand, I tried my best, but my brain just can't hold or conceptualize numbers. My brain can't make the connection of what happens to the numbers to get the results. So I had to bring a report card home with an F in math when I was 9 and got torn apart by my biomom as a result of it.

In the grades following I managed to scrape by with Ds only because of participation points. I paid attention in class and I turned in assignments with a fuckton of wrong answers, but that was enough to give me a consolation D on my report card instead. Junior year I failed geometry because, again, my brain just can't hold or understand the numbers, plus I had depression and anxiety and a trauma disorder etc etc, all of which I had no treatment for. The result? Grounded for an entire summer while I went to summer school to make up the credit. I passed summer school only because we had tests at the end of the lesson, when I could still hold the information in my head.

During all of this, did ANYONE suggest I might have a learning disability? No. Because unlike dyslexia, dyscalculia and other learning disabilities related to math aren't well-known. Reading is seen as something that's so hard to grasp, but in math there's only one right answer so how could there be a disability for that? Long words are complicated, but who doesn't understand numbers? Worse still is the people who do struggle with math a little, but who can still manage and retain the information, because they're like, "oh yeah I also suck at math haha maybe I'm disabled too!" and it's like, no, unless you've been driven to tears because a customer gave you additional change after you already input their total into the cash register and now they and all the people in line behind them are expecting you to be able to count the change in the way that means you know what to give them back (since it's now different than what's on the register) but you literally cannot wrap your head around this no matter how many times they explain it to you, you're not disabled, you just don't like it.

In college I majored in creative writing and I was told that I had to take a math class for a gen ed. I was at first told basic math would count, so I took that. It was so difficult, and I got so stressed, that I gave myself stomach ulcers, but I managed to pass with a C-. I was then told, oh sorry! This is too low level of a course to count. So then I tried business math. Failed it. Formal logic. Failed it. College algebra. Failed it. In college algebra I would understand it okay in class, but then when I'd get home I wouldn't remember how to do it. 10 problems would take me 5 hours as I tried to re-teach myself the material from the textbook. But on the test we couldn't use the textbook, so guess what? I failed.

I had a complete emotional and mental breakdown because I wasn't going to be able to graduate without a fucking math course. And it was only after I was literally sobbing in the academic advising office that someone said, "if you can get diagnosed with a learning disability, we can waive the credit."

(Note: I didn't even want the credit waived per se, I just wanted my basic math class to count like I was told it would my freshman year.)

I was 26 years old and this was the FIRST TIME I had EVER heard that there was a learning disability for mathematics. THE FIRST TIME. I paid $600 to get evaluated and was told that while I was in the 99th percentile for language ability, the discrepancy between that and my mathematics ability was the largest the evaluator had ever seen in his 60 years of running these exams. Which, you know, makes sense. When I took the ACT I got a 32 in reading and writing each, but a 15 in math (and 19 in science because of all the math). It tanked my score. Suddenly it all made sense.

But it took TWENTY-SIX (26) YEARS for anyone to even SUGGEST this could be a possibility. And it's still not fully understood or taken seriously! Accommodations can be made in the workplace for dyslexic people, but when I told my boss just this past week that I have dyscalculia, he laughed because he thought the term was a joke, a riff on dyslexia, just for someone being bad at math. Now, my boss is kind of an asshole in general, but still. It's not a joke. I'm not just bad at math. I am INCAPABLE of doing math. My brain can't wrap around numerical concepts. And even in the off-chance that I understand what's going on in the lesson, I can't retain it. When I got evaluated there were problems in the evaluation that we had just discussed the PREVIOUS WEEK in college algebra. Less than seven days prior. I REMEMBERED that we went over it in the lesson. But did I remember how it all fit together? No. I couldn't wrap my head around it. I nearly started crying during the goddamn examination because of how humiliated I was.

I suffered so much into my late twenties because no one at any point in my educational career understood that mathematics disabilities are a thing. Math is thought to be "the universal language" so if you can't do it you're just lazy or not trying or, hey, it's hard, but you still CAN do it, you just need to try harder. It's so angering and so upsetting and drives me fucking bonkers. I've got my diagnosis now so I'm not suffering any longer but jfc. It was a fucking nightmare.

[jodilin65]

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 16, 1988 Without saying a word, I called Kevin to see if he’d say anything. He did. He said, “So, you’re gonna move to the Hamden East condos, huh?”

This is in response to my mentioning that during my little phone games. Anyway, the little asshole sounded nervous as all hell, breathing heavily.

Ma called this morning at 9:30 to say Daddy was fine and that they were able to do a triple bypass on him.

I was pissed last night cuz Tammy went down there without me, but Philip said if God forbid anything happens he’ll take me down to Florida. Uncle Marty was pissed at Ma cuz she never called him about dad. They found out by me cuz yesterday I tried to reach Tammy in Salem and I found out through Bill’s parents.

I almost missed Ma’s call last night cuz Crystal keeps turning off the ringer on my pink phone and forgetting to turn it on again, so this morning I told Crystal not to shut the ringer off if she couldn’t remember to turn it back on.

At 2:30, I have to see Dr. Franklin. I’ll walk there. In fact, I’ll start walking now.

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 15, 1988 Today is my usual appointment with Rose at 3:00 but I doubt Community Care is open today because it’s Washington’s birthday. I called PCS and they said the buses are running.

I also called Emily, but she was a bitch cuz she just woke up so I didn’t even waste my time talking to her.

Crystal is still asleep as I thought she’d be. She goes to sleep late like I used to.

It looks like she did get fired from McDonald’s. I don’t think she ever gave a damn about the job and I don’t think she wants to work. What with all the money she owes her old landlord for rent, the gas company, the phone company, the electric company - she’s up shit’s creek. All I know is I better get my rent money.

I guess she’s never gonna get the garbage bags she said she’d get. Looks like I’m gonna have to get them, but the bitch is gonna pay me back. She’s gonna buy her share of household needs and do her share of chores or she can pack her shit and go.

SATURDAY, FEBRUARY 6, 1988 I’m so pissed at myself! I bought 2 packs of cigarettes. It seems I can never quit. I’m so pissed! I can’t breathe, and I wanted to save the money.

Tuesday I must remember to go to my sign language class. I was so pissed off at myself for forgetting last week. Nervioso was so jealous he couldn’t take me to my classes. I haven’t seen him in 4 days and I never felt better.

THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 4, 1988 Crystal came home early with a bad ulcer. She said she went to the ER. She can’t work tomorrow or the day after. I hope she doesn’t get fired.

I have smoked only 4 cigarettes today, but it pisses me off that I just can’t cut it out for good.

Got some books in the mail today. I was pissed that they sent me a book I already have. I wonder when I’ll get my books for getting Crystal in as a member.

Later…

I didn’t do too much today but tomorrow I am going to go down to welfare to pick up my photo ID. I’m also going to call the bank to see if my other check came and pick up a few things at Food Mart.

Crystal is listening to the radio now. Earlier I was teaching her some signs.

It’s been quite pleasant not seeing Nervioso for a few days. I really want nothing more to do with him.

TUESDAY, FEBRUARY 2, 1988 Today I woke up at 9am. I went to get that Nicorette gum the doctor gave me a prescription for yesterday to try to help me quit smoking. He said my lungs were so bad and that I needed to quit. I think I’ve had 9 cigarettes altogether today, but a few hours ago I became deadly determined. I’m only 22, so it’s now or never. Better to get it over with and to have smoked for 8 years rather than for 40. Besides, singers shouldn’t smoke, and I could save $80 - $100 a month.

Later…

Just a little while ago the urge to smoke was quite bad but I didn’t touch it! I chewed the gum.

I’m so damn pissed, though. I forgot all about my sign class tonight!

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 1, 1988 I’m downtown now and I have been for almost 4 hours. At 9am, I walked down here and went to SIS, my bank. It looks like I have gotten my checks. Thank God!

Afterward, I went to Friendly’s, then saw Rose. Personally, I think she sucks!

I’m now on Chestnut St. waiting to see the doctor. What much can he do? I need to quit smoking, but it is just so damn hard!

The nurse just weighed me at 118 pounds. I’m so fat! I sure as hell hope I lose it this spring like I usually do.

[majaurukalo]

I gave too much shit to myself in 2023, but I actually didn’t do all that bad. I finished my Master’s degree, I rediscovered my passion for piano, I started to listen to more music, I finally understood what I want as a career and I survived through 2 ulcers.

2023 wasn’t the worst year in my life by far, I had it more rough during my childhood and teenagehood. It’s just — I think — dealing with bad moments when you are almost 30 is different than dealing with them when you are 10 or 15. Sure, you are more mature and you have more experience, but also, you feel like you are running on a tight schedule and you are already late in many things in your life. Which is not true, obviously, but the daunting feeling still permeates and then the fear of having lost your train sinks in. When you are a teenager, you know that there’s much more to come and you won’t be stuck in that situation forever. It’s not easier, but you are just more stubborn to consider that maybe you are not fit for certain things.

Also, I unburied so much past trauma of past events that I didn’t even know I had. This process actually started during Covid but reached a peak in the first months of January, when I was at my lowest and would cry everyday. I felt lonely, deceived, mistreated…

I saw my family act in ways that made me revalue them and question their past decisions towards my well-being, which was part of that trauma discovering. And that was a big issue because family has always been a staple to me, but now I feel like I totally lost that connection and that we are talking two different languages and even the feelings have shifted, becoming more nuanced.

All to say that, sure, 2023 wasn’t the best year but it was an okay year after all.

[nathjonesey-75]

Ticket To Ride

There’s something to be said about moments in time which seem to matter to individuals. Alone, wherever in the world – sometimes, things; whether occasions, milestones, realisations or simply – just moments, simply have to be recorded.

So, as we hurtle and hop to the mid-point of the year in the Northern Hemisphere, the solstice approaching only three days away, today the pen in my hand seems more powerful to me than any object I currently own. While I’ll tick off any box in my head which reads

“Is this a midlife crisis?   Y N

I awoke at 5:44am having fallen asleep just under eight hours previously; tired physically and mentally drained after consuming a Greek vegan gyros and the final accompanying glass of wine. Today, Sunday the eighteenth of June is my only day off this week and the busiest day of 2023 so far – has finally tripped me up with its 158-day leg, as I feel unnaturally emotional and reflective. Having had a lot of inspiration to move ahead with personal projects this year, but with the common “park them until later” clause attached because of work duties – it all had to end sometime.

While I have six weeks remaining of the leaving notice I gave my employers a week ago – in spirit, I’ve already departed. Completing this week was the toughest physical test so far. With insufficient full-time colleagues it was always going to be so. It was the mental test which is the small victory which I’ll claim, having come through a gruelling seven months with a stomach ulcer, wisdom tooth abscess which together created chest and stomach infections and actual health scares. Sometimes you don’t recognise your own health until you can accomplish things which – eight weeks previously you’d have struggled, even failed to accomplish.

Conclusively, as I found myself welling up from feeling overcome by everything humanly possible, I felt the urge to listen to Blur’s “Modern Life Is Rubbish” which recently turned thirty – and like a classic neurodivergent flicker-frame of memories in my head, I remember the times surrounding 1992 and 1993 when I listened to it while going through a tough time, studying for A-Levels and having just lost my grandfather.

Now, at least with the experience if not the wisdom of age, I can see a way forward. A path clearing. Not a clear path, but light opening. Which in a way explain the emotion, suppressed for the better part of a year while in a health compromise. I’ve not disliked my job – more the location, the work framework and its trimmings. Like the health battles for the majority of my time there, the London south-circular road and obstructional rail strikes, forcing me to drive among the overflow of banshees and Neanderthals. Plus slaving for my modern yuppy bosses whose business model – from my perspective – encapsulates Britain in these ghastly Conservative days. Austere, while gluttonous, self-serving and socially numb.

Mitcham Junction reminded me on several occasions of Mos Eisley spaceport in the Star Wars trilogy. A week on the roads surrounding it would be proof enough of the “scum and villainy” in its demographics. Sceptical? Well, only yesterday in the anti-glamorous industrial Wandle Way area a white van (say no more, maybe?) was accelerating aggressively behind me in a 20-miles per hour zone, then overtook me and while I beeped in bewilderment, it swerved onto the main road without looking – with the driver ensuring he gave me the customary “wanker wave” for anyone questioning his right to drive like someone in a Starsky and Hutch chase.

Escaping, into hyperspace, hopefully – I will. Like the Millennium Falcon away from dirty Tatooine, into the great creative space which is London. All of these years of non-belief and unawareness surrounding my neurodivergent condition has seen me passed from pillar to post, from dormitory to den. Now; it’s time to create. While art and culture have been violently minimised by the government in the last decade, like the days of punk in the 1970s and the breakout of rave in the late eighties and early nineties, people need to use their voices.

My Glastonbury ticket finally arrived on Friday. Inadvertently and fortunately in time to go, for the first time. The shambles which is Royal Mail has been sending my mail – even the special delivery mail, like the ticket, to my ex-neighbour’s flat where he moved a fortnight or so ago. Because we share the same surname and lived in the same building, but in different flats. Keeping up with the Joneses is clearly not a policy adopted by our failed national mail delivery service. Thus, the condition that the ticket has reached me kind-of sums up the way I’ve felt this morning – a possible hot ticket which has been stamped in the incorrect places, gone the longer way around but is ready to go. I hope the sun keeps shining and that this festival – not just the biggest music festival, but this crazy carnival called life – will be living up to its promises.

Naturally, I have to give what I have to make it complete. As Shakespeare once said – “what’s past is prologue.” As Jack Nicholson’s Joker stated, “Commence au festival”.

I’m just getting started.

                                                            “Over hill, over dale,

                                                             Thorough bush, thorough brier,

                                                             Over park, over pale,

                                                             Thorough flood, thorough fire;

                                                             I do wander everywhere…”

                                                                        From A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare

[bearpillowmonster]

Health Update

I got my wisdom teeth out. It was a surprise because it was only meant to be a consultation but I didn't argue when they said they'd do it. Weirder process than I imagined, no loopy stuff unfortunately, they just numbed it and when he first did it, it was numb to the point where I couldn't swallow but then he said he'd give it a minute to activate which it felt like it was wearing off by then but no, it didn't hurt.

Really, I'd think that they'd have a better system for the recovery at some point because it's like "Don't use a straw. Eat soft foods and oh yeah, stuff these wads of gauze in your mouth and bite down for the rest of the day then change them out, mm, every 20 minutes." But they gave me Amoxicillin and Ibuprofen, one so it doesn't get infected and the other for pain but I've never had Ibuprofen specifically just other pain stuff and my mom says that it makes her stomach hurt and hallucinate so...I mean, I don't know, kind of scared of that, we've reacted the same way to most drugs that we've taken, sometimes mine more severe.

I also woke up with this (ulcer? blister?) On my gums which never happened to be there of all places, but if it doesn't go away, I go back to the dentist next week so they can make sure everything is all fine and dandy, the stitches dissolve so they'll heal on their own. I've been fasting away from ice cream for this very moment so I can allow myself to go hog wild. Not sure how work will fare with all this, I'm going to try and just tough it out tomorrow and bring some other form of painkiller (I almost said antidepressant, wouldn't that be dandy?)

I'm still dealing with problems from my insurance and these pills, So I'm dealing with bowel problems on top of tooth problems. Right now it's that I haven't been to the doctor so they can- suck my insurance money, so they're holding my pills hostage until next week when I have to excuse myself to the work bathroom and attend a virtual appointment. Because it was either 8am next week or wait until April apparently and that's what I don't get.

Why is it that everything has to be scheduled that way? I work around you, not you around me. I have work now, I only have so many days I can take off during the year and I take lunch when everybody else does so I can never make a phone call. Then when we actually have the appointment, we're expected to take it during our lunch which often doesn't turn out but hey for argument's sake- But you get to the doctor at the appointed time and they make you wait longer than you're actually there. They're either booked up with appointments for the same allotted time so they have no one else and you're left waiting anyway. I went to the dentist and there was someone already there, she stepped out multiple times because she'd been left waiting, a guy with a cane walks in and is taken in immediately. I'm the last person to go in and I'm not complaining, I took this day off for a reason but for argument's sake, say I hadn't, say this was my lunch break. I'd have no time to eat or anything, I'd be going over my allotted time because they didn't take me in when they scheduled me, so what's the point? Just make it a walk-in then.

How are we expected to deal with the dank healthcare system AND work at the same time, it's maddening.

[fishingforunderstatements]

Just venting, but I'm so frustrated I could cry.

I love coffee, I worked as a barista for years, I love the way it tastes, but two years ago I started getting really sick whenever I had it, so I went cold turkey, gave it a few months and tried again. No luck, so I went another 6 months without, but still wasn't getting better. And so on...

Then, in November I decided to try some coffee flavored ice cream, and one serving gave me an ulcer.

At my wits end here, I went to go see an allergist, and the whole time he was super dismissive. He did the skin panel, and after 20 minutes of waiting I felt like shit! Heart racing, trouble focusing my eyes, slightly dizzy, but I guess it's not an allergic reaction, so not his problem. I was scared to drive myself home because of how sick I was feeling.

And it's not the caffine, I can drink other caffeinated things just fine! I dont know what's wrong with me, and no one else does either, and they have no advice other than dont drink coffee, which I'm already NOT DOING because it makes me so fucking sick. 😭

[justagemini19]

Dear diary,

This month’s therapy focus is all about boundaries. I let too much slide from the people I love…

Also found out a new trauma response or trauma developed tick maybe 🤔 hard to describe but it’s basically a mini out of body experience, it’s like my soul is detaching from my body.

I’m still working on detaching, might have made myself sick from the amount of crying I did in November but I wrote a beautiful goodbye letter to my first love so I’m finally accepting it’s finished and this is how it’s going to end. No real goodbye no real understanding just disappearing and disappointments. I gave myself to the end on the year to sulk and dwell but Jan 1 we’re embracing it and cutting ties. I cried when I read that part of my letter to my therapist, I wish it wasn’t true.

Money and I aren’t in the same frequency right now but I’m working on it. Not only do I need a place to live obviously but we have developed quite a pricey habit and yeah I’m not ready to quit just yet… sure it has consequences for me down the line and isn’t good for my health but after potentially developing a stomach ulcer from crying over a man who fed me empty promises and ghosted me I think I’m okay with potentially brain damage, I’m already battening with the will to live so if it makes me happy so be it. Obviously I can’t trust people anymore… drugs haven’t let me down yet.

Last week of school I think I only have two tests so fingers crossed we make it out with at least a C. Oh yeah I’m also battling failing because I completely shut down and stopped attending class all together for months. Anyhow maybe December will be better… cause November sucked.

[waitimcomingtoo]

Plank All Over Me - 72 Questions With Vogue Edition

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Plank All Over Me Series Masterlist

Regular Masterlist

“Hi. I’m here from Vogue. Mind if I ask you a few questions?”

“Oh, hey. Didn’t see you there.” You flirtatiously flipped your perfectly curled hair over your shoulder and winked at the camera. “Come on in.”

You walked inside your house, and gestured for the camera man to follow. In preparation for the interview, you and Tom had gotten out every award you’d ever won and strategically placed them around the house. You smiled at the camera and rubbed your hand over your growing baby bump.

“Welcome to my crib. Sorry it’s such a mess.” You rolled your eyes and faked a laugh, knowing the house was far from being a mess. You kept walking and saw Tom in the living room, polishing on of his awards with a feather duster.

“Oh my stars.” You feigned a gasp once you spotted Tom. “Is that my husband, the critically acclaimed movie star and Lip-sync battle winner, Tom Holland? I had no idea he was home.” You winked at the camera again.

“Oh, hello.” Tom stopped dusting and posed with a smile. “Don’t mind me. I was just cleaning this.”

“Might want to give that a dusting too.” You pointed to one of your awards before sending the camera another huge smile.

“Are you guys ready to answer some questions?” The camera guy asked.

“I was born ready.” Tom concurred with a smile.

“You were a C section baby.” You reminded him. “You weren’t even born.”

“I was removed ready.” He kept the same tone in his voice.

“Where did you meet?” The camera man asked as you and Tom began to walk towards your backyard.

“We met at BBC Radio 1 while doing the Plank All Over Me challenge.” Tom answered.

“Where was your first date?”

“Cracker Barrel.” You winked at the camera as you opened your back door. Tom laughed and shook his head at your joke.

“It was not. We got milkshakes at an Ice Cream Shop in Soho.” He corrected you.

“Who made the first move?”

“Why, he did.” You touched a hand to your heart. “He found me after the planking challenge, both our arms sore and aching, and asked me out on a date. We’ve been together ever since.”

“When you did you move in together?”

“About six months into the relationship when I realized she had a bigger bathroom than me.” Tom answered as he took a seat in one of your decorative deck chairs.

“How long have you been together?”

“Since September 29, 2019 at precisely 6:33 p.m.” You responded.

“Wow. Just a year?”

“Realistically, we’ve been together for a few years, but that’s when this series was first posted.” You shrugged. Tom and the camera blinked in confusion for a few minutes as they processed what you said.

“Moving on.” The camera man cleared his throat. “Tom, how did you pick an engagement ring?”

“I went into the shop and I said “which is the least expensive because I’m trying to buy a Porsche” and that’s how she ended up with this bad boy.” Tom smirked as he held up your hand to show off your engagement ring.

“I can’t wait to tell our baby that story.” You played along as you rubbed your baby bump.

“When did you know you wanted to propose?”

“As soon as she started whining because the planking was hurting her arms, I knew she was the one.” Tom joked.

“Did you know he was going to propose?”

“Surprisingly, no.” You laughed. “It’s the one secret he’s ever kept.

“I nearly got an ulcer from trying to keep it from her.” Tom blew out a breath.

“Who planned the majority of the wedding?”

“I did.” You declared. “I had to text Tom the morning of the wedding to remind him where the venue was.”

“Did either of you cry?”

“As soon as I mentioned the yoga challenge in my vows, the whole room was sobbing.” Tom teased.

“How big was the reception?”

“Let’s just say, we had all the Avengers there.” Tom nodded.

“All the important ones, anyway.” You joked. “Mackie couldn’t make it.”

“How did you spend your honeymoon?”

“We went to Bali and didn’t see any of it.” Tom smirked, earning a playful smack on the arm from you.

“What’s been your favorite video together?”

“I loved the prank with Josh.” You answered with a smile.

“I didn’t.” Tom shook his head. “I nearly threw hands with a ginger that day. I quite liked the friendship test.”

“What video gave you the fondest memories?”

“Spill your Guts, for sure. That’s when I learned about the existence of this one.” Tom beamed as he rubbed your baby bump.

“What was your least favorite video to film?”

“We already know Tom’s answer.” You chuckled.

“Prank interview.” He stated. “To this day, I hate it.”

“Did you see yourself getting married when you first met?”

“All I saw were the nose hairs in Tom’s nostrils when we first met.” You laughed. “After all, he did plank on me for six and a half minutes.”

“I had a feeling we would.” Tom smiled shyly. “Or a hope, at least.”

You pouted at his sincerity and leaned forward to kiss him, which his happily accepted.

“Have you thought of baby names?”

“Josh.” You answered immediately and Tom groaned.

“I’m kidding.” You rolled your eyes. “I really like the name Ryan Reynolds though.”

”What are you hoping for?”

“An oscar.” Tom answered at the same time you said “A divorce.”

“You already want a divorce?” The camera man laughed.

“Oh, not a divorce from Tom.” You assured him. “I want Ryan Reynolds to divorce Blake Lively so he can marry me instead.” You explained as Tom nodded along.

“And I want to die every time she says that.” He cracked a smile.

“Let’s get back to the baby questions.” The camera man said as you began to move around the yard. “Do you know the gender?”

“We do.” Tom said deviously. “But we’re not telling.”

“Do you think the baby will be more like their mother or their father?”

“Definitely me.” You stated.

“Why are you so sure?”

“Because Tom’s not the father.” You smiled sweetly. Tom stared at the camera with an unamused expression and shook his head.

“Who’s going to be the fun parent?”

“Considering I’m the parent who can swing from buildings, I say me.” Tom boasted.

“Who’s going to teach the baby how to read?”

“I am. And after the baby learns, they can teach Tom.” You smiled as you patted Tom’s shoulder.

“Do you think the baby will like to plank?”

“If they’re anything like their mommy, no.” Tom poked fun at you.

“And if they’re anything like their daddy, they’ll grow up to play the Green Lantern.” You shot back.

“Hahahah. She’s so funny.” Tom forced a laugh at your joke.

“Do you think the baby will develop your senses of humor?”

“Wait, you have a sense of humor?” You asked Tom. “You didn’t tell me that.”

“She loves me so much, it’s crazy.” Tom deadpanned towards the camera.

“Do you want the baby to grow up to be an actor or actress like you guys?”

“I just want the baby to be happy.” Tom gave a serious answer. “Every thing else will fall into place on its own.”

“That’s a great answer. Do you think you’ll post about the baby a lot of keep them out of the spotlight for the first few years of their life?”

“I think we’ll wait until they’re at least 4 months old until we exploit them for our own financial gain.” You said and Tom nodded along.

“Have you picked out the godparents yet?”

“Hugh Jackman and Jake Gyllenhaal.” You joked. “They’re so excited. Jake said he would take the baby fishing.”

“He’s taken me fishing a few times.” Tom said as he stared off.

“How have you been preparing for the baby?”

“Well, I personally stopped sleeping, changed my whole diet, started lactating, and my pelvic bone separated in the middle so that I could push the baby out. Tom, what did you do?” You tilted your head at him.

“I bought the car seat.” Tom said proudly. “My wife picked it out, though.”

“I also drove him there.” You glared at the camera for a moment, cracking a smile after your joke.

“What are you most looking forward to after the baby is born?”

“Laying on my stomach.” You laughed as you looked down at your protruding bump.

“I also miss laying on her stomach.” Tom pouted as he rubbed the bump. “That was my favorite cuddle position.”

“Aw. I’m sorry we can’t cuddle the way you want to anymore because I’m growing your child inside my body.” You said sarcastically, making Tom laugh.

“Thank you for growing our child inside your body. I don’t say it enough.” Tom praised as he leaned in for a kiss.

“You’re welcome.” You smiled at him before turning to the camera man. “Anything else you want to know?”

“Actually, I have a question.” Tom stated as he looked at the camera.

“What’s that?” The camera man asked. You and Tom looked at each other and exchanged a smile before turning back the the camera.

“Are you excited to meet our baby girl?”

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[beautifulhigh]

Work in Progress Wednesday

Well this is about to take a left turn from where I planned, but @slayerkitty and I are WAY more excited over the new concept than the old one and it’s going to give me so much more to play with. So have the last part written to the old plot because it’s off in a different direction after this...

**

TK supposed it was a testament to the city that there was a massive and coordinated response within the hour. The block was locked down, barriers erected at either end with the tactical unit taking up position at a suitable distance. Those first responders already on scene were effectively stuck, given direction to inform those businesses who found themselves cordoned off from their early lunchtime trade and ensure the crowd remained calm.

The news that there were people among them who were prepared to blow up the crowd was information that was no passed on, and everyone was under instruction to identify anyone who could possibly be an accomplice of those in the bank. But without knowing how many there were it was almost impossible.

After getting bottles of water from a local café for the paramedic team, TK checked his cell phone. His text to Carlos – I'm on the scene but I'm fine. Don't worry x - hadn't even been read. Carlos had been vague about his plans for his day off, some shopping, running errands, usual day-to-day stuff that was their life now. It was simple and domestic and TK couldn't quite believe that he got to have this for the rest of his life.

He typed out a quick message, sending it before pushing the phone into his pocket.

Hope you're OK x

"Thanks," Tommy said as she took the offered bottle of water from him. "You get through to Carlos?"

TK shook his head. "He's probably driving to the ranch. Won't even use his phone as a SatNav on that drive. You get the girls sorted?"

"Yeah, if needed a neighbour is going to pick them up after school."

"You don't think we're going to still be here that late?" Nancy asked.

"I think this is not going to be over quickly," Tommy said, dropping her voice. "They've made no demands, not even asked for supplies for themselves or their hostages. They sent the woman out with the phone and she's given the police information about how many there are, what they look like—"

"What they look like?" Nancy repeated. "You mean they're not wearing masks?"

"Apparently not."

"Well that's not good," TK said. "They're not planning on getting away with this."

"Exactly," Tommy said. "They hold up the bank, get a bunch of us down here, and then make us wait?"

"Cannons to the left of us, cannons to the right," TK muttered.

"What?" Nancy asked.

"It's from some poem Mom used to say," TK said. "Something about a team going into battle even though it was hopeless. She'd say that when she had a case where she was fighting battles on all sides. Mostly I remember it was about being trapped but carrying on anyway."

"Feeling very trapped right now," Tommy said.

**

"Hey, you've reached Carlos. Leave a message or shoot me a text. Thanks."

"Hey, baby. Getting a bit worried now, not like you to drop off the radar and I'm the one in the middle of the weirdest hostage situation ever. Anyway, consider this your half hour warning. Either I hear from you or I'm calling your parents and we both know your mom will have more than a few things to say about you worrying me like this. Much as you hate to admit it, she definitely likes me more than you." He took a deep breath, trying to push the ball of worry back down from his throat. "Just let me know you're OK? Love you."

He ended the call and looked up as Nancy sat next to him.

"Still nothing?" she asked.

"Not a thing," TK said. "And of course I'm stuck here and can't do anything except drive myself crazy thinking of worst-case scenarios."

"Dude, call his mom. You'll find out that he's there, his phone is dead or smashed or he's out in the land of no signal. You'll feel better and won't be stressing yourself into an ulcer."

"Gave him half an hour to contact me before I do that."

"He'll be fine," Nancy said. "Of the two of you he is not the one who ends up in a hospital bed."

"True," TK laughed softly, the tension diffusing slightly. "Don't suppose there's been any up—"

He was cut off by the unmistakable sound of a gun going off, followed in the next seconds by screams from the crowd and cries from officers that everyone should get down.

As TK and Nancy took cover by the ambulance he redirected his thoughts to catching up with what had just happened. The gunshot had been muffled slightly, not out in the open, and it took TK a second to realise it had come from the direction of the bank.

For a moment there was silence, an almost unnatural one, as the entire block seemed to be holding their breath.

And then the cell phone that had been sent out of the bank started to ring.

[satanwithboobs]

self-care | GN!MC x OM brothers

tw: mentions of reckless behavior, the brothers are demons so they essentially roofie MC but.. for their own good...? it’s not okay and I’m pretty sure Beel is the only one who feels like they did something wrong.

a/n: okay so this is really long (nearly 2,400 words), and it just sort of happened. mainly inspired by my history of reckless behavior when it comes to my health and my resolve not to let the stress of my upcoming week make me resort to bad habits. and before anyone wonders... the anecdote in the story? yeah that really happened. I gave myself stomach ulcers because I kept taking ibuprofen (it was for a horrible tooth ache) and I didn’t eat anything but saltines for days while I finished up a final project. word to the wise: don’t be like me. I’m dumb.

self care is important, everyone! I know a lot of people are starting school again, so please!!! take!! care!! of!!! yourselves!!

—

Lucifer was the first to notice something was up with MC, though initially he paid it no heed.

Naturally, he had always prided himself (of course) on his superior attention to detail, and

He had noticed them drinking cups of coffee and energy drinks a whole lot more often than usual, but given that finals were coming up, he figured they were simply trying to keep more awake for the sake of their studies.

None of this was healthy, of course, but he’d wait to scold them if it truly became worth his while to do so.

And so, he went on with his business, offering them advice as he had on many occasions before. He had even been kind enough to tutor them without the aid of his whip or his fire, something he would never do with any of his brothers. At one point he even let a snide comment under their breath go with just a stern warning.

He truly had gone soft, but he supposed it was best if he didn’t traumatize the human he and his brothers had formed such a strong bond with just for the sake of grades.

And while he had been the first to notice their new habits - all of his brothers had eventually caught on to what was going on.

It was the Saturday before finals that they all finally acknowledged that something needed to be done.

—

“They’re looking truly frightening!” Asmo exclaimed, and while typically his statements were brushed off by the rest as pure hyperbole, they all had to agree with this one. “They’ll get wrinkles in no time if they keep this up...”

“Yeah, somethin’ needs to be done,” Mammon commented, earning nods from his brothers — a truly rare occurrence in the House of Lamentation.

“Maybe I can plan a spa day!” Asmo interjected, an excited expression on his face.

“I don’t think havin’ ya feel ‘em up all day would help anythin,” Mammon grumbled, earning a scowl from the fifth-born in return.

“Perhaps...” Satan started.

“No,” Lucifer retorted, earning a look from the wrathful fourth-born.

He simply continued as if daggers weren’t being glared in his direction, “I don’t care how many times you try and paint it as a benefit for us all, you will not get a cat.”

Satan muttered something that sounded a lot like, “dammit,” under his breath, along with a couple of choice words that Lucifer ignored for the sake of pushing the conversation forward.

“I know! There’s this new TSL ultra-special extended-cut series box set that we can marathon! It has never-before-heard director commentary, along with a limited edition SIGNED replica of the—”

“That’s just gonna wind ‘em up even more!” The second-born responded, getting fed up with this already.

In truth, he was mainly irritated at himself for failing to notice that MC had gotten so bad. He was their first guy, he should’ve known!

“For once, I have to agree with Mammon,” the Avatar of Pride earned six dumbfounded looks with that, with Belphegor actually opening his eyes and Beelzebub nearly choking on the bite of food in his mouth.

“MC needs sleep, not distractions,” he went on without missing a beat, “I very much doubt they’ve had more than four hours of sleep in the last five days, so that must be our first priority.”

“How do you suggest we do that? It isn’t like MC will concede easy, we all know how stubborn they are,” Satan asked.

“Simple,” Lucifer proclaimed, as his gaze fell upon the youngest brother, who had already fallen into a deep slumber once again. “We use force.”

Upon feeling the eyes of all his brothers fall on him, Belphegor stirred, a single violet eye opening. He grumbled, not bothering to sit up properly as he regarded the eldest with a tired expression.

“What?”

—

Lucifer had explained the very simple two-step ‘plan’ to Belphegor (step no. 1, corner the human so they can’t slip away - step no. 2, Belphie makes them sleep), and they were about to begin discussing when to put their plan into motion when footsteps echoed outside the common room.

MC walked in, looking a bit more than a little worse for wear (while their clothes and hair looked fine given the circumstances, the bags under their eyes had become so prominent that they were basically their own entity at this point).

“Oh, that’s where you guys were. I was wondering why the place was so quiet,” they tried to joke, but it came out in such a monotone way that it just sounded more like a simple statement.

Their brow furrowed a bit when they got no response from the seven demons, but they shrugged it off and put their bag down on the table, beginning to take out the many books they were going to need. They’d been barricaded in their room for quite some time, but they had needed a change of scenery. Not to mention, their bed had been way too tempting...

The silence in the room was deafening - even in their bleary state they could tell something was off - so eventually they turned around to see six pairs of eyes scrutinizing their every move (Belphegor was asleep, which didn’t surprise them.

“You guys are starting to freak me out,” they stifled a yawn and moved to grab their coffee, in desperate need of another pick-me-up.

If they had any hope of grasping the concepts in Devildom Law, they’d need it—

They were confused when they didn’t find it where they had left it - on the table, two seconds earlier - but not so when they noticed that Lucifer had suddenly appeared right next to them, their coffee in hand.

“Uhh, Luci? Kinda need that,” they let out a laugh and outstretched their hand, silently asking for it back.

“No, you’re cut off,” he declared, earning a sigh from MC. It wasn’t like they had been caught dancing on the tables after a few too many shots of Demonus. It was just coffee.

“You guys are worried, aren’t you? Well, don’t be. It’s not like I haven’t done this sort of thing dozens of times before, I’ll be fine,” they tried to reassure, though in truth they had never been forced to study nearly as hard as they had for the classes at RAD.

“No, what yer gonna do is let us take care of ya’. Don’t ya trust us?” Mammon said gruffly, earning a look from the human.

“Yeah... you’re really fragile, being a human, and..” Beelzebub started, before trailing off with a frown, remembering they didn’t particularly like being told that. Even if it was objectively true.

“Seriously? I’m being lectured by a bunch of demons on healthy lifestyle choices?” They said, exasperated. “I already said, I’ve done so much worse before. Not sure if I ever mentioned it, but this one time I was up for three nights straight in college.. Gave myself stomach ulcers during finals week because all I had to eat was a sleeve of saltines and some ibuprofen—” they laughed a bit before realizing - upon seeing everyone’s concern only increase - maybe that particular story wasn’t the best one to tell right at that very moment.

MC turned back to Lucifer, shooting him a pleading look. “I need to do well on these finals, Lucifer. I’m not going to make you guys look bad by completely bombing them all.”

The look in his eyes softened for a moment, before he sent someone behind them a terse nod.

Of course, they figured out just a little too late that this was far more than simply a discussion about their unhealthy sleeping habits.

They didn’t even need to look behind them to feel the overwhelming presence of the youngest brother weighing down on them.

While Belphie had done this sort of thing to them once or twice on accident while taking a nap nearby, it had never felt this.. overpowering.

They shot Lucifer a look, and he responded with a somewhat sympathetic look of his own.

“You can’t be serious about...” they trailed off, trying and failing to stifle a yawn. “About.. this....”

MC soon fell into the waiting arms of the eldest, out like a light.

Lucifer let out a soft chuckle as he scooped them up bridal-style, giving a quick nod to Beelzebub who had picked up his twin the same way.

It was a side-effect of the youngest’s ability; he could make someone of his choosing fall into a deep sleep if he wanted, but he’d always do the same.

It was kind of annoying, but it wasn’t like he didn’t spend most of the time sleeping anyway. At least he had full control over how long the other person slept and would always wake at the same time they did.

Now that he thought about it, he’d have to find an excuse to do this again sometime. Naps were way less fun when the person you’re napping with insists on getting up before you wanted them to.

“Pretty sure that’s a record for Belphie,” Satan mused, “I’ve never seen someone pass out like that in less than 10 seconds.”

—

Beelzebub happily chomped down on the many food items he had been supplied with as he waited for his twin and MC to awaken.

The rest of his brothers would have hated having to wait so long, but as long as he had food and his two favorite people in front of him....

Beel looked up from his snack when he heard the pair stir.

An annoyed expression settled on MC’s face as they opened their eyes, completely erasing the peaceful look they held moments before.

Beel frowned, knowing they had a reason to be annoyed, but also knowing that this was all for their own good.

Their face softened ever-so-slightly when they noticed Beelzebub, the one brother they could never stay mad at.

They were about to sit up when they realized there was an arm loosely caged around their waist. Behind them, they could feel the soft and slow breathing of the youngest demon brother, as if he wasn’t already awake.

They attempted to move away, but the loose grip quickly tightened, pushing them flush against Belphegor’s chest.

A satisfied hum escaped their ‘captor’ when MC gave up and sighed.

“You’re welcome,” Belphegor said tiredly, nuzzling his face in their neck, much to their chagrin.

“I can’t believe you guys...” they finally said, their voice still rough from sleep. “How long?”

Beelzebub frowned again, knowing they wouldn’t like the answer. “18 hours,” he finally said, bracing for the response.

“Wait, 18 hours?!” MC rolled their eyes when the demon behind them groaned at the exclamation. “I’m going to miss—”

“I arranged for your deadlines to be extended, don’t worry,” MC stiffened when they heard the eldest’s voice, knowing their inevitable lecture was likely to come sooner rather than later.

They moved to sit up again, though this time their living restraint let it happen, turning over to hopefully get just 5 more minutes of sleep...

The human winced upon seeing the stern gaze Lucifer was giving them, though his eyes were notably softer than usual.

“While I appreciate the unwavering dedication to your studies,” he started, moving to sit on the edge of the bed near the two former sleeping beauties, “you do need to take care of yourself.”

“Achievement means nothing if you end up comatose before you reach the finish line.”

MC looked down, guilt settling on their face. Fair point from the Avatar of Pride.

“I—” they tried to start, but a gloved finger pressed against their lips before they could get anywhere.

“No arguments.”

MC sighed, tossing a defeated look to the eldest. All they got in response was a chuckle and his signature smug look.

Silence permeated the room for a moment before Lucifer spoke up again.

“You will report to my study promptly after dinner every night without exception until you are finished with everything,” he said, the edge in his voice coming back in full force. “Understand?”

MC nodded in response. Figures he’d implement something like this.

“Good. I will help you study a portion of the time, while Satan will help with the rest.”

The human resisted the urge to groan at this. Great, two drill sergeants for the price of one. Literally.

They felt their cheeks flare with heat when they felt Lucifer’s gloved hand cup their cheek as he leaned in to place a soft kiss on their forehead.

“Your well-being is important to all of us,” he said, pulling back. “Never forget that.”

“Lucifer is—” Beel interjected mid-bite before he quickly swallowed. “—right.”

“Won’t hear me arguin’ on that!” Mammon piped up as he filed into the room with the four brothers who weren’t already in there to begin with.

“Lucifer said I could plan a spa day when you finish up! Just you and me... sounds heavenly, doesn’t it?” Asmodeus announced, tossing a wink toward MC.

“Oi! If you think I’m gonna let that happen, you got another thing comin’, Asmo!” Mammon growled, earning an eye roll from the Avatar of Lust.

“You have nothing to worry about, as long as I’m your tutor,” Satan interjected before a true fight could break out.

“You better finish up quickly, because there’s this new game is coming out—!” Leviathan practically vibrated with excitement before letting out a terrified sound.

“Don’t put too much stress on them,” Lucifer’s aura flared.

“Oh, uh...” Levi corrected, looking a bit like a wounded puppy. “T-take all the time you n-need...”

MC couldn’t help but crack a smile at the brothers’ antics, their previous annoyance at the unexpected 18-hour nap all but gone (though they would have to speak to Lucifer about boundaries.. while they agreed that their health was important, essentially supernaturally drugging someone still wasn’t okay).

“You guys are too much,” they said, their cheeks flaring. “Just how did I end up stuck with all of you?”

Silence fell upon the room for a very brief moment at the question, before chaos (naturally) resumed its regularly scheduled programming.

[ao3feed-spideytorch]

surrender (but don't give yourself away)

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33XdVhs

by Gruoch

Johnny is in a bank in the middle of a tricky armed robbery-turned-hostage-situation when he receives some of the most devastating news of his life:

Peter Parker is Spider-Man.

Yes, you heard that right, folks—Peter “I’m a dumpster gremlin who only owns a single pair of shoes and can’t drive” Parker. Peter “I gave myself a stress ulcer in college and puke whenever I’m slightly inconvenienced because I’m a neurotic dweeb” Parker. Peter “it’s perfectly fine to eat food out of trash cans as long as it’s on top” Parker.

That Peter Parker.

Words: 4076, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Fandoms: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Fantastic Four (Comicverse)

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: M/M

Characters: Johnny Storm, Peter Parker, Michelle Jones, Mary Jane Watson, Tony Stark

Relationships: Peter Parker/Johnny Storm, Johnny Storm & Mary Jane Watson, Michelle Jones & Johnny Storm

Additional Tags: If you can’t already tell from the tags, this fic has never met canon in its life, I’m Dr Frankenstein, this is my monster, it’s just me & my whims, Identity Reveal, tfw your superhero crush turns out to be your horrible dirtbag friend, Pining, Friends With Benefits, risky sex, Light Angst, Unrequited Love, OR IS IT??, Peter “notorious human disaster” Parker, Johnny “I’m too pretty to suffer like this” Storm, the MJs own the single brain cell, a double dose horny himbo rom-com birthday treat for my sweet

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/33XdVhs

[gryfon-spanish-werewolf]

Uuh dunno if you would like this prompt : Anna and Elsa as a mythical creatures.

Would love too see what you will write them as ^^

@like-redhead-probably I sat thinking about this ask for a long time, because while I IMMEDIATELY thought of one for Elsa, Anna’s absolutely eluded me. And I know you were probably looking for a story, but I am unable to stop myself from first EXPLAINING my choices xD

I was already thinking about the myth of the Hulder (or huldra if we’re speaking of the creature in general instead of the specific Norwegian myth) for other story-related reasons, and as I did more research, I felt like the Hulder REALLY shared similarities with Elsa.

Generally speaking the huldra is a Scandinavian myth of a pale skinned, blonde or brown haired, attractive young woman who lives in the wilderness, often luring men away with song or dance to be killed or misled, stuck wandering forever. Sometimes she’s connected strongly to water, and instead of making men lost, she drowns them. Sometimes she is described as similar to an elf or fey-like creature, with characteristics related to other Huldufolk (we’ll get to them later) such as living in a parallel world, or a world Underground, and therefore preferring caves or appearing and disappearing suddenly. Sometimes she is depicted as having a hollow back, or a cow’s tail, which she hides out of embarrassment or to conceal her true identity. Which… how cute is that?

Before the 11th century, the myths were focussed more around the Huldufolk, which literally means “Hidden Folk”. There are lots of stories as to why and how the Huldufolk came to exist, but for the purpose of Elsa I think it most appropriate to look at the Christianization of the myths. Why?:

Frozen and Frozen 2 are modern movies made by an American company and Christianity is nigh untanglable with American culture, they take place in ~1840s Norway, F1 has a dedicated place of Christian congregation depicted in said movie, an official royal crowning overseen by a Christian faith leader, and the adaptation of Frozen generally comes from author Hans Christian Anderson and therefore should take his life and society into account, etc.

The Christianized myth says that one day Eve was washing her children (presumably after Cain, Abel, and Seth) in the river, when she heard God approaching. Ashamed that He would see her kids unclean, she hid the half she wasn’t done bathing, and when God asked, “Where are the other children?” Eve claimed that she had all of them present, indicating the clean ones. This gave God pause, but in the end He said, “Then let all that is Hidden, remain Hidden.” The children that Eve lied about became the Huldufolk, unable to live among humans. These people would eventually become characterized as dwarves, elves, fairies, etc., as time and interpretations rolled on, the huldra being just one of many mythical “species”.

So. Who is Elsa? She’s a:

fictional, blonde-haired, blue-eyed, fair-skinned young woman who led thousands of men wlw to wander helplessly into the dark caves and wildlands of social media with a power ballad and a jaw-dropping transformation sequence

Okay I’m joking… mostly…

In fact my interest in choosing the Hulder for Elsa lies purely outside of any romantic or sexual appeal, especially since Elsa as a character exhibits next to 0 romantic or sexual interest across two whole movies and an additional two shorts. Indeed, there’s a reason people headcanon her as either asexual, aromantic, or both! No, the reasons I chose the Hulder are:

Elsa’s name

Her upbringing

Her duty as queen, and

Her general behavior, specifically in regards to Frozen 1, as Frozen 2 Elsa is, at times, an almost completely different character

Elsa’s name was chosen very specifically by the filmmakers because it means “God is my Oath”. Oaths are binding, heavy, and invoke the maker’s or subject’s actions and personhood in the future. In Elsa’s case specifically, it invokes divine witness: perfect for a queen, someone born to rule. A promise to be fair, to uphold, to protect, to lead, to be a dignified and honorable face for the country. And Elsa was so ready to be that… except for the powers of course. Or at least, when they became something other than a magical gift of wonder and joy. When they became dangerous. Then there comes another oath, spoken to powerful creatures of magic, the Trolls, and born from parental fear: “She can learn to control it.”

Binding, heavy, invoking of Elsa’s future. As she grows, Elsa becomes closed off, quiet, hiding in her own home. She still takes her duties seriously, but now that she has been Other’d, taught to hide herself and her curse, she is just as much shadow as person. To young Anna, Elsa must have been almost ghostlike, disappearing right when Anna thought she’d cornered her, only to reappear sometime later down the hall, out of arm’s reach.

God promised Adam and Eve that their children would inherit the earth, even after leaving the Garden of Eden. Then suddenly that changed, due to Eve’s fear and shame of her unwashed children, and some would now inherit Underground, or somewhere else entirely. The lost children of Eve had become Other’d, needing to hide, disappear, and resort to inhuman tactics just to exist. Maybe they’re jealous, maybe they're just tricksters. But it’s not their fault. And it wasn’t Elsa’s either. Another reason they are similar.

Now, it’s not all doom and gloom for the Hulder, or for Elsa. While the Hulder is generally known for her more chaotic and negative attributes - just like our favorite snow queen, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. There are a few myths that say burning a charcoal fire -instead of a coal or gas one- is most pleasing to the Hulder, that she’ll even watch over it during the night, and wake the sleepers in case something happens. If a traveler leaves supplies behind with a note or offering for the Hulder, they will travel safely. In fact, some people leave caches for her, as though to cater to specific requests. Coming across the Hulder by chance can have a multitude of outcomes, but if an astute observer spots her cow tail and mentions it, she may become shy and run away. Don’t mention the empty back though, that’s almost certain death.

Basically my point is… trade out the word “traveler” for the name “Anna” and we can draw all the similarities we want. Anna did all of those things, in a way. Anna gave Elsa a little gift of their favorite snowman every Christmas. Anna knocked on Elsa’s door and spoke to her, treated her kindly despite the distance between them, literal and metaphorical. It’s not hard to imagine that Anna left little notes around the castle, hoping Elsa would find them, read them, and know that Anna still loved her, still missed her. And, well, hopefully Anna wasn’t setting any fires and falling asleep next to them - but Anna always kept a light on for Elsa, in her heart. And it flickered and wavered sometimes, but it was a strong fire most days. And we know Elsa was always drawn to it, drawn to Anna because she loved her right back. Loved her first, even. And because it was a warmth that pleased Elsa, she tended it, quietly, carefully, warmly. Like putting a blanket over an Anna that had fallen asleep in the painting room, refusing that slice of chocolate cake so Anna could have two desserts, and listening, for hours and hours, days and days, for the sound of Anna’s glorious bonfire-like soul outside her bedroom door. Even when her secret was revealed, Elsa believed that the best way to protect Anna’s life, her flame, was to distance herself, running to a secret, special place all her own - much like the Hulder might run away back to the Underground.

And this last part’s just me, but I’d like to think that if the Hulder was treated kindly, respected, and given dignity, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if someone came across her accidentally. That instead of being instantly drowned, or the Hulder becoming sheepish and attempting to run, it would feel recognized. It could be called by name. And instead of feeling the need to hide it’s Otherness, it could be treated as part of it, and cared for just the same. I don’t even need to be subtle here: Anna called Elsa by Name, really saw her, and reframed her darkness into light. Anna hasn’t fought God yet, but she did walk through hell and back for a sister that everyone else saw as a threat, monster, and sorcerer. A category 9 Other. Too bad for them, Anna’s got a Category 10 heart.

Speaking of. We finally got to Anna.

Anna was difficult to pin down because to me, Anna is so very, very human. That’s what makes her special! Yes, yes, you could throw any mythical creature at Anna and the fun part would be trying to make it work within her personality and characterization BUT since the question was Anna AS a mythical creature, that changes the game! The word ‘creature’ itself tends to conjure something distinctly INhuman. So I…. tried, and cheated maybe a little. Because I picked for Anna the Norse Valkyrie.

Most people know what Valkyries are so this one takes significantly less explaining. Valkyries are women that are warriors, shieldmaidens, and the hands of Odin, and they choose who lives and who dies during battle. Their chosen dead ride with them to Valhalla, while those they choose to live are usually granted honors in life. There are the darker sides of Valkyries that paint them as blood hungry maidens waiting on the sidelines before a war, singing the names of who will die with glee… but generally speaking the version of Valkyries that most people know and admire today are accurate! And thank goodness because attempting to depict Anna the other way would probably give me an ulcer.

Anna, much like the Valkyries, is a woman of valor and strength, who is perceptive, guides others, sees into people’s hearts and reveals their goodness. Valkyries are also warriors of prowess themselves, and Anna in Frozen 2 with that ice sword? We all know she was ready to use that for real. She also exemplifies traits that Valkyries both look for and have! Bravery in the face of danger: hello Marshmallow, Elsa’s own blizzard, Hans’ lethal sword strike, LIVING MOUNTAINS, and a damn collapsing.... dam. She also defends those who cannot do it themselves: saying publicly that, “My sister is not a monster… she was scared, she didn’t mean any of this,” even if that cast suspicion or doubt on herself, and the crown, as a whole. Anna knew and believed in Elsa, despite all the years and heartbreak and anger. Despite the impossible magic that literally just happened before her very eyes. Belief in character, despite appearances. And once they were reunited, Anna made every effort to stay by Elsa’s side because she STILL had that faith in her. Anna’s name means “Grace” or “of Grace”, and damn if she didn’t extend that to the person others found most unworthy, even to Elsa herself. Valkyries see what others don’t, and their decisions are final.

[Deep breath] SO! You asked for Anna and Elsa as mythical creatures. You got… a small academic paper, by social media standards xD. I intend to write a little piece about a Valkyrie who encounters the Hulder on the edges of a battlefield and… realizes she never made a choice about this particular woman. And wonders why she can’t ;). BUT I didn’t wanna leave you hanging any longer. Hope you like my choices!

Oh also, nobody asked, but Kristoff is a werebear. No research required

[oftheredmoon]

my abuser abused me. after 10 years i broke my silence and told my childhood friend. i didnt want justice or anything bc i didnt want to destroy my family, i just wanted to confide in my closest friend. she immediately ran around town and told everyone. 2 years later, i found out random people knew about my trauma and were threatening my abuser as well as on the verge of involving my family. so i lied. and said i lied about the abuse. a lot of people in town hate me. ex-childhood friend hates me and victimizes herself; everyone takes her side. my abuser hates me and rather than be grateful that i took one for the team (since we both know what he did) he uses it against me. tells me he hates me because “you know what you did” on party chat in front of the handful of people who still speak to me.

i can never confide in anyone about this due to cultural reasons. i’m stuck living in a looped hell. people think im some mentally ill wacko who went off the deep end and tried to drag innocent people down with me. i dont do drugs. i dont drink. i dont have an escape. i dont have friends anymore. suicide is not an option. confiding in people is no longer an option. coping mechanisms dont work anymore. self-harm never worked and just made me feel stupid. moving out/running away is not an option. therapy didnt help, neither did meds.

i think the most painful thing is the blatant fact that i will never truly be happy.

i’m expected to get married and have children. i want to get married and have children. but how am i supposed to let my husband lay a finger on me without screaming and crying? how am i supposed to explain that the reason i breakdown everytime he compliments me is because nobody has ever paid attention to me before? how am i supposed to be a good wife and have a good job when im completely talentless and stupid because i spent my whole childhood in a locked room neglected? how am i supposed to a healthy partner when the very thought of him becoming slightly annoyed with me or ignoring me is enough to send me into a psychotic breakdown? how am i supposed to explain why im so mentally ill? why i have psychosis, ptsd, depression, anxiety, adhd, and borderline personality disorder. why im constantly dissociating. how am i supposed to explain why im so physically ill? my heart, my blood sugar, my ulcers, the migraines, the potential cysts, crohns disease, the fact that i can hardly eat without throwing up, the fact that my body has dealt with so much stress that its already giving up at 20 years old. i could keep going, but i wont.

its getting hard to feel anything anymore. i’m no longer in touch with reality. when i try to think about myself my appearance, my name and all the things that once defined me do not come up. im hardly human at this point. i wake up, eat, stare at the wall for 8 hours, eat again, maybe do some homework, and play xbox for a few hours before my abuser inevitably makes a comment and i get triggered and leave before i breakdown in front of everyone.

“just tell ur future husband!!” cant, its not that simple, im not from the west.

“find a supportive/understanding man!!” see above plus: no man is going to put up with a complete emotional trainwreck who can hardly function: thats a receipe for creating a cheater.

“find a friend group that your abuser doesnt hang out with!!” cant, everyone hates me, this friend group is the most successful one ive ever had, im scared of making new bonds, theyll all leave eventually.

“make online friends!!” i have very negative experiences with online friends, id rather not.

“seek professional help!!” already tried, didnt work, they would call the cops if they knew half the shit that happened to me, therapy is not the solution to everything.

“why did u say u lied in the first place...?” bc my abuser going to jail/being confronted by all of this wouldve destroyed my family. i couldnt let that happen.

“why did u expect ur abuser to be understanding and grateful..? they’re an abuser lol...” bc after the whole thing blew up and everyone hated me, we had a mutual agreement and understanding to make it water under the bridge in order to protect our family. guess i was wrong to think he cared about them.

“what do u want me to say then lol... ur not willing to help urself” i cant help myself. “my hands are tied” is the biggest understatement of the century.

this post is not to find my cure. i didnt make this post because i want people in my dms showing me that they’re concerned.

if ur concerned about me harming myself, dont be. you have my 100% guarantee that i will not self-harm or attempt suicide. i gave up on that years ago.

this post is to vent.

this post is for people who are in similar situations as me. people who cant find a way out. people who cant turn to escapes such as drugs. people who protect their abuser whether out of love or for the sake of others.

you’re not the only one. i understand. i know. its hard. you’re drowning. no one will grab your hand no matter how much you reach out. in the rare cases that someone does come you pull away. you’ve lost the best years of your life to trauma and mental illness. it feels like theres no point. nothing helps. nothing works. you’re practically a zombie. you often trigger yourself to cope. you just want the pain to end. you dont want to feel anymore. you want to feel something. you dont want to remember. you want to be loved. you want a sign that you belong here. you want to enjoy life. you want to die. you’re afraid of living but you’re afraid of death.

i’m so sorry you’re hurt. i hope you find peace and salvation in a safe manner. i hope you heal and enjoy life to the fullest.

dont really know how to end this. i hope we’ll all be okay. i hope everyone whos been traumatized can find peace on earth. i hope breathing can start to feel a little easier. sorry this is so long. take care of yourselves.

[morganamysticblog]

A Change of Heart

It was the morning before Riley and Liam’s wedding.  She should have been excited, overwhelmed with joy.  However, all she felt was dread and fear.  The questions continuously running through her head.  Is this really what I want?  Am I about to make the biggest mistake in my life? 

Riley was not used to this fancy of a life.  She had no clue what the expectations would be for her as a Queen.  The scrutiny and pressure she had been under so far from the press and the other nobles was starting to become too much.  I can’t keep up all of this much longer.  I’m going to end up on the cover of every newspaper because I’ll punch somebody in the face or something stupid.

And then there was Liam. She cared about him, but she didn’t feel that intense burning passion for him like she thought she should by now. She had chosen him that day in Paris because Drake had bailed on her, and she knew Liam had feelings for her. She would be safe and taken care of with Liam.  But do I love him?  Do I really want to marry him and spend the rest of my life with him?

So many questions running through her head.  Suddenly there was a knock at her door.

“Come in.”  Madeline opened the door.

“Are you ready?  We need to get you to the boutique immediately. We have a busy day.  No time to sit around wasting it.”

Riley walked into the boutique with Madeline.  Madeline pulled out a purple knee-length dress with flowers on it.  Riley went into the changing booth to change coming out with a small twirl.  “So, is it what you pictured Madeline?”

“It will be perfect for the pictures.  Come, we have a tight schedule.”  Madeline pulled on Riley’s arm almost dragging her to the waiting car outside. A short car ride later they arrived at an upscale bridal shop and Madeline led Riley up to the second floor where Hana, Olivia, Liam, and Drake were already there waiting.

When Riley saw Drake, she gave him a small, sad smile.  Drake just looked down at the floor, not making eye contact.

Madeline sat down on a couch between Liam and Riley, pulling out a large binder filled with fabric scraps, notes and other information for tomorrow’s wedding.

“Alright then, let’s get started.  As you both know most of the arrangements have already been taken care of, but the people need a glimpse into the planning process, so here we are. Duchess Riley, who will be standing with you as your Maid of Honor?”

Riley looked around the room, trying to take deep breaths.  “Hana, would you do me the honor of standing up with me?”

“Oh Riley!!  I would love to.”

Madeline wrote down Riley’s choice, then turned to Liam.  “And your majesty, who will be your Best Man?”

“Drake, you have been my best friend my entire life.  I couldn’t imagine anyone else up there with me.  Would you do me the honor?”

Drake looked up at Liam, a hint of sadness in his eye.  He swallowed hard, then looked over at Riley for a brief moment.  “I…I can’t do this.”  And he jumped up and walked out of the room.  

Liam looked around for a moment, confused, then got up and followed Drake out of the room.

Drake was half way down the stairs before Liam caught him.  “Drake…what’s wrong?  Where are you going?”

“Liam…I just, I can’t be your best man.  I’m sorry.”

Riley sat in the bridal shop with everyone looking at her.  Why are they looking at me?  I’m just as confused as they are.  “I guess I’ll go see what’s going on.”  She got up and went out to the hall.

Liam just looked at Drake with confusion, not understanding why Drake would refuse to be his best man. “Drake, why?  I…I don’t understand.”

Drake turned and looked at Liam, a mix of sadness, anger and guilt merging on his face.  “I just can’t.  If it were anybody else, if you were marrying anyone else, I would do it in a heartbeat.  But…I just can’t.”

Riley stood outside the door to the bridal shop listening to the two men, trying to gain some insight as to why Drake left so abruptly.

“Drake, I don’t understand. I thought you liked Riley.  Your support in all of this craziness has been amazing.  Why would you say no?”

“Liam, I do like Riley. That’s the problem.”

“I hate to sound like a broken record here, but I don’t understand.”

“Anyone else Liam…anyone else.”

“Drake…please.  Tell me what’s going on.”

Drake stood there for a long moment looking down at the ground, his hands clenching and unclenching at his sides, his heart racing.  Finally, he looked up at Liam, “I love you like a brother, Liam, you know that.  But I can’t stand there and watch you marry her.  I just can’t.”

“But why?  Do you think I’m making a mistake?  Do you know something I don’t? Please, Drake, tell me.”

Anger overrode all other emotions as Drake stared at Liam.  “I can’t stand there and watch you marry Riley knowing in my heart that I want it to be me, not you. It should have been me.”

“What…what are you saying Drake?

“I love her damn it! I have the whole time.”

Just then Riley walked out into the stairwell after hearing the conversation between the two.  Her eyes were wide in shock at what she had heard.

Drake saw her, his eyes going wide as well, then he turned and ran out the door, not giving anyone a chance to say anything back.

“Did you know about this?” Liam turned to her, anger suddenly flashing in his eyes.

“Me?  No.”

“Well, now you do.  So what are you going to do about it?  This is what you have been waiting for is it not?”

“Liam, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“In Paris, all those months ago, you did say he was the one you wanted – he was the one you loved.”

“Yes, but…”

“Well?”

“Well what, Liam?”

“What is your decision? Me or Drake?”

“I…uh.”  Riley just stood there with her mouth open, staring at Liam.  He’s blaming me for this?

“I see.”

“What?  Can I take a minute to process here?”

“You shouldn’t have to. I’ll be upstairs when you’ve made your decision.  Don’t take long.”  And Liam went upstairs to the penthouse room above the bridal shop.

Riley sat down on the stairs, total shock setting in.  She had wanted to hear Drake say those words so many times, but he never would, he just kept pushing her away as always.  And then there was Liam’s reaction, which was completely uncharacteristic of what she was used to seeing from him.  He reminded her, in that instant, of a spoiled child throwing a tantrum because he wasn’t getting his way.  If this is what I have in store for me, this is just another reason I can’t do this.

Making a mental checklist in her head, Riley finally began gaining the courage to tell Liam the truth about how she had been feeling, all her doubts and concerns, fears and anxiety. She slowly made her way up the stairs and knocked on the door.

“Enter.”  Riley heard the anger still in his voice, but she pushed open the door, hoping he would calm down and listen to her, her decision becoming more and more clear with every step.

Liam looked up to see Riley walk into the room.  “So? Are we to return to complete the arrangements?”

“Liam, we need to talk. And before you start getting angrier than you already are, what I need to talk to you about has nothing to do with Drake.  This is about me.”

“You?  What, is someone else going to barge in and tell me they have feelings for you as well?  What else could possibly go wrong at this point?”

“Liam, stop.  Please, just listen for a minute.”

“Well, get on with it then.”

“Wow.  You know what…get over yourself, Liam.  I understand that was a shock. It was to me too.  But that does not give you any reason to take it out on me.  I have been going back and forth in my head for weeks trying to figure out a way to say this as delicately and nicely as possible, but with your attitude right now? I don’t know if I can do this the nice way.”

“Get over myself.  Get over myself?  Did you seriously just tell me, your King, to get over myself?”

“For starters, you are not my King.  I am an American citizen, not a Cordonian citizen.  And yes, I told you to get over yourself.  You may be King of this country, but your attitude?  You do not speak to me like that.  EVER.”

Liam snapped his head up, staring at Riley.  No one had ever spoken to him like that before.  Something clicked in his mind and he slowly started to calm down a bit. “Riley, I apologize.  You are correct, I should not have spoken to you in that manner.  What did you want to discuss?”

Riley took a deep breath, trying to form the words in her mind, picking at imaginary strings on her dress.  Finally she looked up, taking another deep breath.  “Liam, I can’t marry you.”

“Of course you can. We have everything prepared for tomorrow.”

“No, I mean, I know everything is ready, I just…I can’t do this.  I can’t be Queen or Duchess or any of it.”

“Riley, you are allowing your nerves to get the better of you.  Let’s just go back downstairs and finish the arrangements.  You’ll feel better once that is complete.”

“Liam, you’re not listening to me.  I…I can’t do this.  I thought I could, but the more this went on, the deeper in I got, this is all too much.” Riley looked down at her hands, not wanting to make eye contact with him.

Liam took Riley’s hand in his and gently pulled her chin up with his other hand to look at him. “Riley, you will be fine, I promise. The press and the people adore you. The way you have handled every situation so far, you are amazing.  You have nothing to worry about.”

A tear slowly released from Riley’s eye as she looked at him.  “Liam, I can’t do this.  It was fun for a while, like Cinderella getting to go to the ball, every girl’s dream of becoming a princess, but it’s too much…it’s all becoming way too much. I just want my normal life back.”

“I don’t understand. What are you saying?  I thought we were meant to be together.”

“Liam…” tears began falling from Riley’s eyes.  She didn’t want to hurt him, but she couldn’t go on like this either.  “I…I can’t marry you.  Not just because of the massive ulcer creating fear I have about everything, but because…because I don’t love you.  Not the way I should.  I care about you, I really do.  But it feels more like a really good friend, not someone I want to spend my life with.”

“But…we are engaged. You said ‘yes’ when I asked you to marry me.  You said this had nothing to do with Drake.”

“It doesn’t.  This is all me, my thoughts, my fears, my choice. I tried to tell you so many times, but there never seemed like a ‘right time’.”  Riley looked down at her hands again, not wanting to make eye contact. This was a lot harder than she thought it would be.

“Riley…are you certain? Are you positive this is not just due to nerves?”

“I’m sure.  You said before that you didn’t want a loveless marriage.  And I’m not saying this would be completely loveless, because I do care about you, but like I said, I’m not in love with you.  I didn’t want to lead you on, and I know that’s exactly what happened.  I tried, Liam.  I really did.  It’s just not there.”

“I…I understand.” Liam let out a sigh before taking her hand in his and looking at her.  “Believe it or not, I feel the same.  You are a wonderful friend, and I would not give up the time we have spent together for anything, but that spark, that feeling that I thought was love, I see now that it is not.”

Riley’s eyes went wide hearing Liam confirm that he felt the same for her, friendship, not love.  At that instant it felt like a huge weight had been lifted from her.

“I do not wish to force you into something you are uncomfortable with.  However, I have already broken off one engagement to be with you.  The people will not look favorably upon me if I do it again, especially the day before our wedding.”

A light went on in Riley’s mind, recalling something she had read while helping Olivia research her family history.  “I have an idea how to fix that.”

Liam’s brow furrowed in confusion.  “I’m listening.”

“You know Cordonian history better than anyone, right?”

“I would like to think so.”

“The very first ruler of the united Cordonia, Kenna, worked with Diavolos Nevraskis to overthrow and defeat his father, correct?”

“Yes.”

“And what happened when the dust settled and Kenna’s forces won the war and united the five kingdoms?”

“Kenna married…”

“Kenna married who?”

“Diavolos Nevrakis.”

“Exactly.  Diavolos went against his family heritage, so to speak, aligned with Kenna, supported her, and showed that the Nevrakis family could be a strong ally.  Kenna and Diavolos fell in love and were married in the first Cordonian royal wedding.”

“Riley, what are you getting at?”

“Liam, there is one woman who loves you more than life itself.  Olivia Nevrakis.  If you marry Olivia, it would harken back to the first royal marriage, Rhys and Nevrakis joining together, again.”

“The people would never go for it.  And what of her betrothal to Anton?”

“The only person who would object would be Anton.  And the entire kingdom knows he is a traitor and murderer, so they wouldn’t believe him anyway.”

“But the marriage contract signed by her parents.  That could be discovered and published.”

“There could be an ‘accident’ that somehow, oops, destroyed that document.  No one would know except the two of you.”

“I…I don’t know. Olivia is a friend.  You say she loves me, truly.  I don’t know if I can say the same.”

“Think back to all of your time together.  How she has been there for you through everything since you were children.  And how she looked at you during the social season, how she kissed you at the ball in Lythikos.  You can’t tell me you don’t feel something for her.”

Liam closed his eyes, thinking about how she had grown and become very beautiful, smart, strong. Then he thought about that kiss. He hadn’t admitted it to himself before because he was focusing his attention on Riley then, but he did feel something when Olivia kissed him.  He replayed the moment in his head again, then his eyes opened wide with realization. He did have feelings for Olivia.

He looked at Riley taking a deep breath.  “I…I…I see it now.”

“Ok, so now we get Olivia up here.  I believe you have a question for her.”

Liam pulled out his phone calling Olivia.  “Olivia, could you please come up to the penthouse room upstairs?  I need to discuss something with you.”

“Sure.  I’ll be there in just a minute.  Is everything ok?”

“Hopefully.  Just please come upstairs.”

“I’m on my way.”

Liam hung up the phone and looked at Riley.  “Will you stay?  To help explain?”

“Sure.”

[thejoshuaglenn-blog]

You're a Good Boy, Charlie Brown

The key purpose of a Tumblr blog here is really a brain dump: logging thoughts, feelings, narrative and such is easier in long form than via a brief Facebook post that generates half a dozen "oh no, what happened" comments. As I'm writing this, most of it seems like bullet points and organized timelines. If you're looking for a TL;DR or current state of thoughts, it's the last section titled The Day After, and the Day After That.

A few days ago, Niko and I said goodbye to our first dog, Charlie Brown.

I'm not keen to chat about it a lot. There's more to process than I have time to type; most of it centers around being fair to myself and to Niko, taking the time to appreciate his life without beating ourselves up, and avoiding the overwhelming mire that grief can become.

Joining the Family

CB was a rescue, a hapless victim of the 2016 Louisiana floods and a happy-go-lucky participant in a "dog for a day" event hosted by a local shelter. I fully expected to rent him out for a day, give him a few great experiences, and return him. For myriad reasons, we never did bring him back to Pet Rescue by Judy, and he's been with us ever since.

At adoption, he was estimated to be around 4-8 years old. With a kicked-in shoulder that offset his collarbone and ribcage, some assorted dental issues, and other little signs of damage (cigarette burns, what the heck is wrong with people), it was tough to really gauge his age. That means he left this world at the ripe old age of something like 9-13, which isn't terrible considering all he'd been through.

Charlie Brown was the iconic good boy. He seldom barked, he never licked or jumped, and just wanted to be in the same room as his favorite people. He had a few toys that he cherished, never ripping them up, just carrying them with him from room to room and whining a bit, unsure of where he could store them for safekeeping. Apart from some separation anxiety issues and an occasional urge to bolt out the door and book it as far as he could, CB was by all accounts an easy first dog: more like a low-effort cat than anything else.

Slowly Falling Apart

Over time, the health issues increased. Intermittent but predictably regular upset tummy. Bad gums, bad teeth. Random gooey skin lesion. Eye ulcers. Since October, we've been averaging 2-3 unplanned vet visits a month — many incurring some hefty bills. We'd take out another credit card, find another financing plan, but it adds up. So does the emotional toil on the family; so does the anxiety toll on the dog.

You start to think about quality of life for the dog, you know? He'd had a few teeth removed to sew up his gums after they kinda detached and fell apart from his jawbone — so he couldn't chew anything hard. Couldn't even chew a tennis ball, which was the only toy he took interest in anymore. Couldn't have any fun treats like peanut butter or other soft chews, as his tummy would have bad flare-ups that usually ended up with him attached to an IV bag. After finally settling in and learning to play well with Atlas, Charlie Brown started to get pretty irritable whenever Atlas got frisky.

He still loved running around outdoors, and was in otherwise great health.

I can't tell you how guilty that makes me feel, even now.

Moving to Waltham

Before we left Orlando, there were so many crisis moments in emergency vet offices where Niko and I talked about how long he could ride this roller coaster. CB obviously was not a fan of vet visits: loved the staff, but was notably anxious and panicky when separated from us, and he had grown very loathe to the process of poking, prodding, and whatnot.

Shortly after moving to Waltham (he was a champ in the U-Haul), Charlie Brown had a severe colitis flare-up. He was losing so much fluid and was growing very lethargic over the day. Vets are hard to get into these days: with the sweep of "pandemic puppy" adoptions, the vet industry as a whole is saturated with demand, and practices are responding as best they can. There were just no emergency clinics available to us within 20 miles, except one that noted "we have no availability, but you can come and wait, and we might be able to see you in 4 or 5 hours." So we did.

It was a very late night. Charlie Brown came home with us with another round of the same antibiotics he'd been taking almost regularly since December for his assorted ailments, and some probiotics. The next day, CB seemed a bit better and brighter, and Niko and I went into the city for part of the day. We came home to find he'd had an accident, but it was just... blood. So so much. And he looked so in pain, so ashamed, so guilty, so anxious.

So we went back to the vet ER. It was another very late night. I didn't know how many of these late nights we could afford; neither of us knew how many of these late nights it was fair to expect Charlie Brown to endure.

Do you plan on letting a pet go after an extended crisis visit? Do you plan on letting a pet go in a time of relative peace?

Camping Analogy, and a Best Last Day

When you're off on a long hike, and you see daylight start to fade as the sun begins to set, you begin to think about finding a good place to set up camp for the night. It's abysmal to do this after the sun has already gone down: where you could have had preparation and structure, you have chaos by flashlight.

A dog's life is in your hands. You're his whole world: all food, adventure, pampering, challenge, treatment, and care come from you. More than anything, we wanted Charlie Brown to have a peaceful, restful life. Now that we started thinking about it, we wanted to be able to give him a peaceful, restful passing as well: not as the climax of another overnight crisis with injections and yelps and beeps and cowering and anxiety and fear, but in the still quiet of familiar sounds and smells.

His very last day was a great one. Fresh Pond in Cambridge: a massive stroll around a colossal lake with an absurd bounty of new smells, kind people, happy dogs, and a brisk New England breeze. He got to swim in a little side pond — that boy lived for jumping into random lakes. He ran around the broad field that is Kingsley Bowl, chasing a thrown ball the very very farthest his sad pop could throw it — and he brought it back. We bought him a steak. We told him how much he brought to our lives.

And then we waited.

Lap of Love is a sort of home delivery service of dignified passing for pets. There's more to say on that hour than I care to pen, but throughout the procedure, we never left him. Charlie Brown passed enveloped in our arms and laps and sobs and hugs.

The Day After, and the Day After That

The rest is just thoughts. Your head starts to feel like a coffee shop where your grief comes in, sits at a table with you, and unloads. You nod, listen, and wish them well. I hope I can keep processing this way — I find it helpful, and less overwhelming.

I wish he had been able to play with his tennis ball more. Since his jaw surgery — even out on Kingsley Bowl, nearly a month and a half after he should have been fully healed — any kind of chewing would cause renewed bleeding and pain.

I wish we had hugged him more. But truth be told, he didn't like hugs. They made him uncomfortable. So we gave him a hand to lay his head on, or a knee for him to pop his head upon, as often as he liked.

There were so many times I felt inconvenienced by owning a dog at all. They weren't the majority, but... now each remembered time feels like a splinter of selfishness.

I miss how familiar the back of his neck felt under my hand, just behind the ears, where the waves of fur meet and crash and make a long cowlick of foof and fluff.

His happy smile and his stressed smile were very similar, but you could still tell which was which.

I loved being there for him in thunderstorms.

When you think about it, we sort of were hospice care for him. We weren't his original owners; we just wanted the rest of his life to be painless and fulfilling. He had so many trust issues when he first came to us. And in the end, he loved anyone he met.

I miss feeling around with my feet to make sure I don't step on him on my way to bed. I miss setting my feet on the floor as I wake, stooping down, and giving his head a good squishy rub.

He never did get to see Boston snow. I mean... thousands of dogs never get to see snow. But I was really looking forward to sharing that experience with him.

I wanted so badly to bring him to a point of health, and then say goodbye when he was feeling well. Seeing him have his Best Last Day, part of me whispered "murderer" with cold accuracy, and I have a hard time shaking it. He was so happy — but between jaw bleeding after playing with a tennis ball, seeing him scratch his eyes that were starting to ache with ulcers again... I know the unbridled happiness came with the reality of his declining health.

Atlas was the best thing that ever happened to that boy. I know Charlie Brown was at least a little disgruntled that his easy-going day-to-day had been interrupted by a chompy puppy, but Atlas brought out the young pup in CB: ripping palm fronds to shreds, playing tug, playing tag, meeting new dogs with confidence and assurance.

I used to get so mad at my mother-in-law for feeding Charlie Brown cinnamon donuts. I wish I'd given him more. Heck, I wish I'd given him more peanut butter. I'm frankly surprised he hadn't died of peanut butter overdose years ago.

Where Charlie's health had limits, we kept going with Atlas. That might mean taking Atlas out to play with a ball or a tug toy, because CB couldn't. It breaks my heart now to think of Charlie at the glass door just watching it happen, all because he physically couldn't play the same. I know he didn't understand that.

We took him out to Park Ave maybe once or twice. I wish it had been more. Truth be told, it was the same as the dog park, though: he was kind of a loner. Loads of people or dogs made him anxious. So while I might idealize the past and wish he had sat at our legs for lunch after lunch at an outdoor thoroughfare, ... I think he would have been miserable. I think he would have rather just curled up at the base of the couch and dozed while we watched a show.

He was so trusting. I could just drag him onto his back and onto my lap for cuddles and a good tummy rub. No complaints.

He looked so gaunt these past few months. I keep looking at earlier photos, and I really didn't realize just how grizzly and drawn he had become lately.

I miss seeing him randomly waiting for me outside the bathroom door — or curled up on the bath mat while I was in the shower, having sneakily nosed the door open and wanting my company while I was rinsing.

For his first few years with us, he was incredibly playful. I've been going through old videos — it's like going outside just blew his mind, and toys were either for cherishing daintily, or thrashing about and throwing to oneself and gnawing. He lost that after a time. He regained it a bit when Atlas joined the party. But it still faded. I'm sure that's inevitable, but it makes me sad to see the early vibrant puppy in those old recordings, and how different he had been in recent months.