#and i know i was just a depressed teen and very sensitive to this shit and people keep saying that it reveals more about the other person

[sschmendrick]

I kinda miss hanging out with old people. All my friends used to be old people.

But the older I grow, and the more I'm expected to behave well like a normal adult, the harder I find it to keep those links. I'm lost between trying to stick to a script I don't know the words of to have a proper normal and interesting relationship for them, and allowing myself to screw up a little, be boring, be interested in stuff they aren't, having opinions they don't agree with (for silly stuff like music, though yk me), not be cool. Cause the latter stresses me out. Cause I see no reason for people to want to be friends with me if not that.

[janedoeswriting]

The Way The Wind Blows (Stiles x OC)

Chapter Two

Description: Rhiannon finds herself trapped within her guilty pleasure tv show— Teen Wolf. Now, she must choose which path to take… one that leads back home, and another that follows uncertain adventure.

Tags: extreme slow burn, frienemies to lovers, fix it fic, canon change, actions have consequences.

TW: smut??, angst, fluff, sexual harassment, anxiety, depression, obsession, domestic violence, manipulation, etc. Just please do not read if you are sensitive to difficult subjects.

((Don't Fear) The Reaper by Blue Öyster Cult)

Stiles awoke with a start in a pool of his own drool. His laptop was open but dead, and he had papers scattered around his bedroom. The sun peeked through the window and his alarm clock blared.

It read '8:15 am' in blinking red letters. "Shit."

He was going to be late to his first day of junior year. Stiles stuffed books and papers and slid half the contents of his desk into his backpack before sprinting down the stairs and into his car. He turned the key and after two attempts the engine finally turned over.

The police scanner blared to life. He remembered that he'd left it on the night before. He also remembered how he had stayed up almost all night researching deer attacks and missing persons reports in the area. He'd mostly come up inconclusive. As he sped through a stop sign a voice on police the scanner spoke. "We've found the 10-65 wandering around the forest. She looks unharmed and is cognitive. Taking her into custody."

In the background a girl was yelling indistinctly. Stiles slowed to an eventual stop in the middle of the road, turning up the volume. "10-4, we'll get CPS on their way."

His own father's tired voice rang through the jeep's speakers.

"She's demanding to be brought to the station, Sheriff. She refuses to go to the hospital. She requested you by name."

Stiles slammed on his gas, taking a screeching u-turn in the direction of the sheriff's office.

---

"Stiles, what in the hell are you doing here?! Get to school!"

His father wasn't exactly glad to see him.

But Stiles had pushed past him and stumbled into his dad’s office.

There she sat, wearing a tattered hospital gown and dirtied feet and hands.

She looked up at him through dark eyes and disheveled hair. She still looked significantly better than how he and Scott had found her the previous night. Except now, dark purple circles shaded under her eyes.

Another older woman wearing a pant-suit stood from beside the girl.

“What’s this?” The older woman asked. She looked very professional and ticked off.

“I can help!” Stiles claimed. But his father grabbed him by the shoulder and dragged him back out of the office.

The door slammed shut with a bang.

“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t ground you for a month.”

The tone of Sherri’s Stilinki’s voice was dangerous. The other deputies found something else to do and made themselves scarce.

“Dad, I can help you! I was the one who found her last night—,” but he was strictly interrupted.

“Stiles. Let me do my job. This girl is a runaway. She won’t talk, and we need to find out where she belongs.”

Stiles had gathered that much from the police scanners. She’d run away from the hospital last night, and every deputy was out all night searching for her.

“And you were up all night looking for her, right?”

Stiles recognized his father’s dim eyes and shaky hands from too much caffeine.

“Stiles. CPS is gonna take care of it. We’ve been trying to get her to speak but we’re running short on time. It’s looking like we’re gonna have to skip the hospital and take her straight to Eichen.”

The name of the mental hospital sent a chill down Stiles’ spine, though he didn’t know why. He'd never even stepped foot in there.

“Let me try to get her to talk.” Stiles said with such a serious look in his eyes that Sheriff Stilinski hesitated.

Stiles was about to argue his case, but was surprised by the words “Fine, make it quick.”

Stiles thought his father must have been really tired and desprate options.

He energetically opened the door again to find the CPS worker struggling to get any words out of the girl.

“Let my son try to talk to her,” Sheriff Stilinski said.

The CPS stood and was about to protest when a calm voice said, “Stiles.”

The room went quiet and every eye was on her. Rhiannon, Stiles remembered.

“Can we have a minute alone?” Stiles asked, turning back to the older woman.

The CPS worker looked ready to rip into him for even asking, but Rhi grabbed the woman’s forearm. She looked down at Rhi in shock. Apparently, this had been the most response they had received all morning.

"Stiles."

It was all she said. And that seemed to be enough. The worker looked at Stiles with a harrowing face that said 'you take care of her or else', and walked out in a frustrated rush. Stiles' dad looked at Stiles in surprise, but inclined his head and followed the woman out of the room.

The silence that followed was deafening. It was so long and so silent that Stiles started babbling.

"Hey! Uhhh. We met before, I'm Stiles," and he outstretched his hand. Rhiannon just stared at him, then at his hand, then back up at him. Stiles took his hand back in a rush and rubbed the back of his head. His entire body moved obnoxiously.

Spaz, Rhiannon thought, but couldn't even blame him. That was part of what she liked his character for. His character, she thought. He's just a TV show character.

"So, uhh," he said, grabbing a chair and sliding it forward to sit in it. The noise scraped against the ground loudly. He cringed in response, but kept going.

"You're Rhi-Rhiannon, right? That's what you told me last night, remember?"

Rhiannon couldn't even quite believe it still. Here he was, so handsome and real and talking to her. She felt like she was dreaming. The sensations of pain and hunger from earlier reminded her that she wasn't.

The prick of a needle in her arm. Her fist wrapped in the pillowcase as it smashed through the window. The shards of glass cutting into her feet and knees as she climbed through the opening. The long cold night that followed, not knowing where she was or what she was doing. All she knew was to find home. To go back where she came from.

She wandered all night. Eventually, she collapsed in the woods against an old oak tree. Her sobs racked her body for hours. A deputy found her without any tears left to cry.

When they tried to drag her to the hospital, she kicked and screamed until her gown fell off of her body. When they finally wrapped her up in it again they heard her begging them for one request.

"No hospital. Sheriff Stilinski. Take me to the Sherrif's station. No hospital."

And here she was. Face to face with Stiles Stilinski-- a person who wasn't real.

"That's your name, right?" He asked. Rhi just stared at him. He was so pretty she almost couldn't tear her eyes away. Almost.

Stiles inclined his head expectantly. "Hello?"

Her eyes roaved his face until finally they locked onto his stare. For some reason, he was taken aback by the eye contact, but recouped quickly.

"Where are you from?" He asked.

Rhiannon tilted her head to the side. "Somewhere else." She said, and that was all she could say. How does one explain that she wasn't from this world.

"Okay, that's helpful," Stiles said sarcastically.

"You're real?" Rhiannon asked distantly. Without thinking, her hand raised and ever so lightly touched his cheek. She didn't believe he was really real. That she was really there. Until she felt the warmth of him. In a rush she stood up and staggered back as if she was electricuted by the skin of his cheek.

He leaned back from the contact as well, holding his face. They stared at one another for a long moment. "Do you know me?" he asked without thinking.

Rhiannon said nothing but continued clutching her hands.

This is real, she thought. I'm not dreaming. This is real. This is Stiles.

"Answer me!" Stiles finally demanded, standing up in a rush.

He immediately regretted the dramatic response, but thankfully she didn't respond with fear or shock.

Instead, she continued to stare at him. Which only frustrated him more.

But instead of lashing out at the girl again, he turned and leaned against the windowsill of the office. The blinds were closed but he could feel the tangible presence of his father on the other side of the glass.

"Stiles."

Her voice was soft and level. He slowly turned, and found her gaze. Her chin was held high and her hands held in fists at her side.

He waited for her to say something, but she didn't. Finally, Stiles broke the silence and his own chaotic thoughts.

"What do you know? What do you remember?"

She only watched him in fascination. He didn't know what to do with that. Those His frustration peaked.

"You came from somewhere! Where?!"

The door burst open. His own father came in the room.

He approached Stiles in a flurry.

"Stiles, this isn't helping," he muttered to Stiles. And Stiles stepped back. As if for the first time he saw the girl he was yelling at. Skinny and cold. Wearing a hospital gown with dirty hands and feet. Her words and actions made no sense. She was not afraid. "Dad-," he started, but was strictly interrupted.

"Stiles, go to school. Now."

--

Scott leapt down the stairs with renewed hope and purpose. He had been waking up early for the entirety of summer. It was only 7:45 and he had already worked out, and gotten a few chapters through his copy of Call of the Wild.

A sound from the kitchen garnered his attention. He swiped a banana and began to peel it as his mom stumbled through the side door. She was a wreck. Her hair was wild and her clothes stained with both blood and sweat and dirt. "Woah," Scott started, noticing the time. She was supposed to be back an hour ago.

"Are you okay?" Scott asked.

"Long night." Melissa said without any energy to even attempt to sound relieved that she was home.

Scott took a bite with a look of pity in his eyes. He didn't envy nurses one bit.

"Must have been crazy in the ER last night, huh?" He asked as she collapsed in a chair at the table.

"You have no idea," she mumbled, resting her head against her arm and closing her bloodshot eyes. Scott was about to lay a blanket over her when she groggily opened her eyes again and mumbled.

"It's fine. I can go to bed--" She said. "But, Scott. There's something I need to tell you."

Her tone switched to a more serious one as she remembered the events of the previous night. His mom even seemed to wake up a bit. Scott stilled, listening attentively.

"Last night, there was a woman who came in with Isaac. They were attacked by someone. All she said was that she needed you, Scott." Scott stared at her in confusion. Melissa searched his gaze.

"You don't know anything, do you?" She stated but it was rhetorical. Scott shook his head to answer she question Melissa already knew. "There's something else," she added, eyes growing droopier by the second.

"That other girl you found in the street-- she escaped the hospital last night. The police found her wandering around the woods a few hours later. And I can't explain it, but it seemed like she knew who I was. And she kept asking strange questions about you."

"Strange questions... Like what?" Scott asked.

"Like... what grade you're in. I mean she said some weird things-- like how she's from another world. But then she went quiet and escaped the hospital under everyone's noses. Scott... she knows what you are. I don't know how, but she knows."

--

Scott almost didn't wait for Stiles to show. He was late. By a lot.

But just as Scott was about to make a break for his first period and forget the idea of meeting with Stiles before classes began, a blur of blue screeched into the parking lot.

Stiles tumbled out of his jeep in a rush as students filed in the doors. He spoke to Scott in a rapid hushed voice.

"That girl we found last night-- Rhiannon. She ran away from the hospital last night." Stiles said. Scott nodded, "I know. My mom told me. Apparently she knows who I am too. But I've never met her before in my life."

Stiles nodded. "Exactly. And she knows who I am too. I don't know how to explain it, but she knows us."

Scott sucked in a breath as they walked down the hallway. "So what do we do? I mean-- maybe she is just crazy." Scott said.

Stiles shook his head with so much surety that Scott raised an eyebrow at him.

"No-- she isn't crazy." Stiles said. "And what makes you say that?" Scott asked sceptically.

"I-Well I don't really know how to explain it but I know that she isn't crazy." Stiles felt stupid even voicing it allowed. All signs pointed in the direction of some sort of mental disorder, but those stone eyes flashed in his memory and he just knew the truth. She wasn't crazy.

"Stiles, we found her naked in the middle of the road. She broke a window and ran away from the hospital--," Scott started, reasoning with Stiles but Stiles interrupted. "I know, but just trust me. There's something more to it. She knows something, and I'm going to find out what it is."

Stiles sounded so sure of himself that Scott had to believe his friend. Scott nodded, sending his friend a look that said 'Okay, I believe you'. Stiles nodded back, and disappeared down the hallway to his first class of junior year. The bell rang, and Scott walked into his own classroom. He couldn't help the thought that nagged at him.

Maybe Stiles is right. Maybe she knows more than she lets on.

===

Notes: Thank you for reading! Sorry about how long part two took. I'll try to be more consistent. Let me know of any recommendations or thoughts. This will be a long slow burn and there will be a heavy focus on the main character's arc and story changes.

I'll make a masterlist and story stuff soon with all the inspo and playlist and everything.

PART THREE

[dyrewrites]

I have eyes on the inside of my skull

Let me explain.

I grew up dealing with too many emotions, ones I was told I could not be having, or to stop having because I was "over-reacting" or "too sensitive". Sometimes the problem was that I did not react at all, which was worse somehow. I also had a parent that did the same thing but amped up to eleven and was able to watch how people reacted to an adult doing what I, as a child, was already being scolded for doing.

This made me think I needed to figure this shit out before I became an adult, so that I wouldn't be treated that way.

So I started to monitor my emotions from a very early age.

And, despite the fact that absolutely no child should ever have to deal with any of that ever, it actually became a useful tool for me.

As I am bipolar, which no one knew until I was well into my teens (and really even then they didn't call it that). And I have learned (the very hard way) that medication is not enough to keep my moods stable.

But monitoring my emotions? Knowing that I'm especially tired because I am depressed, or that I am unable to focus and "buzzing" because I am manic is very useful! I can't always do anything about it, but it's nice to know what's causing it and be able to tell that voice that is always yelling about how I'm not being productive and not doing enough and am a lazy piece of shit...that no, actually, I am dealing with an episode right now and that is a reason, not an excuse.

Problem is...I forget that other people don't do this. That it's not this ingrained. So when someone tells me they're tired, so tired they're falling asleep, and they don't know why and they feel lazy. Even after they've given me a week of updates on all the things they've had to deal with in their life (big, life-changing things), I get confused.

And I want to say, "What do you mean you don't know? Look at all these things you've been through. How do you not see that you're overwhelmed and stressed and probably, definitely, depressed. Just be tired. It's okay to be tired. You earned it."

I share this with you guys for two reasons;

One, I had to get it out somewhere and why not here.

Two, I might give random bits of advice to you that make me sound like a know-it-all and I need you to know that I'm not and I don't mean to sound rude or self-important. I'm just very used to reading moods and forget that not everyone this trauma-conditioned coping mechanism.

[bowiebond]

Hey Babe, Your Hair’s Alright (Hey Babe, Let’s Stay Out Tonight) - Chapter 2

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/39597543/chapters/99122538

Summary: After Eddie is humiliated at graduation by the town who still believes him to be the murderer, he breaks. He recluses. Steve isn't taking his shit for a second, and he's not letting Eddie's fire burn out.

CW: Depression, Lack of Hygiene, very slight disordered eating, Minor Drinking, Self Esteem Issues.

Eddie doesn’t hear the knock at first. He’s become used to tuning out his Uncle’s presence, tucked into the divot he’s made in the mattress. His Uncle has given him some leniency; he’s seen how Eddie reacts over the years to being forced out of his slumps, though they had grown fewer and fewer over time.

They usually didn’t last more than a week, but Wayne had a dreadful knot forming in his stomach every time he had to send those insistent teenagers away. Gareth had understood when Wayne told him Eddie needed space, knowing not to question the days when Eddie wouldn’t come to school at all but show up at practice with a tired smile and a languidness to his notes. He never asked and Eddie never said, but Gareth knew Eddie would laugh it off if he did.

Dustin and Mike were a little pushier, Dustin fuming besides his friend who pleaded with big dark eyes. If Wayne were a weaker man, he may have let them in, but a bunch of kids fussing and making noise in Eddie’s space was not what his boy needed.

Robin had been a snarky, worried mess when Wayne said Eddie wasn’t feeling their movie night on day six. But after catching her eye, standing firm, she deflated and asked him to pass on that she’d be by next week the same time and he better be ready to hang out properly. Wayne promised and she left with a slump in her shoulders.

When day eight rolls around, Wayne wonders if its time to try and rouse the young man, to remind him he has a show at the Hideout two nights from now with his band, the one he usually does every Tuesday, and that he shouldn’t miss it again.

He expects that maybe Eddie will argue with him like he did as a young teen, so full of hormones, but he just stares at him with blank brown eyes and says nothing as Wayne tries to convince him to get up, to eat more. He knows he’s not making contact and can only really sigh when Eddie rolls over and pulls the blanket back over his head.

Eddie was...a special boy. That much he knew. A sensitive boy beneath all the bravo.

So Wayne says goodbye and heads to work, leaving a tenner on the bench in case Eddie wants to leave the house and grab food - though he doubts it. The kid never takes his money anyway, hasn’t dared to since he started making his own pocket money with that rusted old lunchbox of his.

“You barely make enough to scrape by as it is, Uncle, I can take care of myself. Hell, one day I’ll be famous and take care of you, got it?”

Eddie rolled over in his bed and felt his muscles ache from disuse, stretching and promptly sinking back into his pillow. It was easier to sleep through the days then to get up and do stuff. And maybe the constant sleeping only made him sleepier, groggier, but he didn’t care.

Eddie jumped when the knocking got louder, closer, rising his head with a loud groan, glaring at his door. Couldn’t people get the hint? He wasn’t home. He didn’t care if his car was parked out front or his body laying inside this piece of shit trailer, he didn’t have energy to be home and people should respect that.

“Munson, open this goddamn window!” Eddie’s head whipped around in alarm towards the window above his bedside table, Steve Harrington’s perfectly dumb face peaking through the murky plastic window.

“Steve?” He groaned, head throbbing as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He rubbed a hand down his face and pushed his greasy hair from his face. He felt gross, and he probably looked it, and why the hell is Steve Harrington here?

He was tempted to just lay back down and ignore the man, but Steve smacked the window with his palm and pointed at him like a scolding mother, like he knew what he was thinking.

“You open this window right now, I can see you, Munson.” Eddie sighed, long and heavy before forcing himself to sit up properly and stretch his arms across his dresser to unlock the window and pull it up - though Steve seemed to be impatient since he did most of the pushing on the jammed up junk. It only got about half way up before refusing to budge, but it was enough to see Steve’s face clearly. His swooping hair, his furrowed brows, the slight parting of pink lips and the wayward dotted moles on his left cheek and down his neck.

Eddie feels like rotten garbage compared to Steve right now and it’s not helping his self esteem.

“Where the hell have you been, man? You’ve been off the grid for like a week and I only just found out from Dustin.” Steve’s concerned eyes fell to his window sill, hands grasping the edge. He looked like he was contemplating jumping in through his window and Eddie knocked his hands off it.

“Don’t even think about it, you’ll take my whole damn wall with you.”

“Then open the front door next time.” Steve sassed with a quirked brow and an unimpressed purse to his lips.

“Look, I don’t wanna deal with this right now, man, can you just...leave me to wallow in my tarnished pride?” Eddie gestured for him to leave, back to his fancy car and away from Eddie’s grossness.

“I’m not leaving.” Steve crossed his arms, stubborn as a mule. “I heard one of your band mates talking about how you blew off one of their shows last week, and then your Uncle won’t let Dustin check in on you, and you totally bummed out Robin by ditching the movie night you guys have had planned for like two weeks!”

“Yeah well, people are disappointing.” He rolled his eyes. “Surprise surprise, Harrington.“ He knows he’s being a dick, but he’s tired and oily and his headache is only getting worse. He goes to close his window but Steve grabs the frame first and he’s more determined than Eddie right now.

“Ah, ah, ah! Don’t you dare close this window on me. I think I deserve to know what the hell is going on considering nobody will tell me squat, but keeps moaning over your moping to me.” Steve’s eyebrows jump up his forehead expectantly and Eddie just stares.

“...You’re not gonna leave, are you?”

“Nope. I will sit outside your door until you let me in. I don’t have work until tomorrow.” Steve shrugged, acting nonchalant.

“Jesus Christ - fine! Fine, you can come inside.” Eddie grumbled, his fingers sinking into his hair and scratching roughly at the base of his skull. With a few shakes of his hands, he got out of his bed. He was irritated now, and he made it clear in the stomps of his bare feet. He jiggled his lock and roughly yanked it open, waiting expectantly for Steve who was making a pit stop at his car. Eddie tilted his head with a ‘seriously?’ expression as he watched Steve rummage through his backseat. His eyes dipped lower to his backside and knocked his knuckle against the door frame before tearing his gaze away and smacking the frame in frustration.

Could he not be a freak for two seconds?

“Cheer up, I brought a peace offering like a good guest.” Steve showed off a carton of beer with a shameless grin, jogging up the steps of the porch and slipping past Eddie. His front brushes his arm and Eddie flexes his fist, rubbing the base of his middle finger with his thumb, aware of the rings hes missing.

“Dude. You stink.” Steve wrinkled his nose and Eddie rolled his eyes, snatching the carton from his hands.

“You’re a shit guest.” But he brought beer, and Eddie has never craved it more. Steve buys the good shit too, sparing a hearty dime on him, and it makes Eddie’s stomach flutter.

“No, man, I don’t mean to be mean, but its bad.” Steve covered his nose somewhat discreetly. “When’s the last time you showered?”

“Graduation morning.” Eddie shrugged. He can’t give an actually day count, they blurred together at the third one in bed.

“Dude, it’s been a week and a half.” Steve snatched the beer back.

“Hey!”

“Go shower, and then you can drink your sorrows down the drain.” Steve gave a pointed look to his bathroom door - because of course the guy knew where it was after sitting in his shower trying not to gain an infection from demonic bats.

“That’s so much effort...” Eddie breathed, staring at the door.

“Then you can sit in the shower like a toddler, I don’t care. But you need to wash whatever...” Steve squinted at his hair, pointing at the sticky patch that shined in the light. “...that is out of your hair.”

“Tomato.” Eddie wrinkled his nose and tried to run a hand through his hair but caught it on multiple knots. He was starting to regret not brushing it. He spent forever growing it out, it would be a shame to cut it all off because he let it get matted.

“Yeah, no, that shower is mandatory, go.” Steve patted his shoulder and steered him towards the bathroom. “I’ll grab you a towel - where do you keep them?”

“They’re under the sink, its fine.”

“Okay, good, well...” Steve stood there awkwardly, hand still on his shoulder. The silence drags on and Eddie turns his head to look at Steve’s distant expression. Steve snapped out of his daze when he noticed Eddie looking and sighed. “Are you okay, Eddie?”

Eddie chews on the inside of his cheek and forces a smile, but it comes out tired and bitter.

“Yeah. Sure, Harrington. Now get out before I hurt your ego.” Eddie thumbed the waistband of his sweats with a smirk and Steve rolled his eyes with a huff of a laugh, punching his shoulder lightly as he left Eddie to his shower.

Eddie stared at the shower as the door clicked shut behind him.

“You’re such a sad sack of shit.” He murmured to himself as he tugged his shirt over his head and tossed it in the hamper, shimming out of his bottoms. There’s no warmth anymore without his armor, and the shower is cold when he steps under its spray. He lets his thick hair soak up the water, lets the past week and a half seep out of it. His headache eases and the shower heats up slowly as he scrubs his hair. He shampoos it twice before he feels semi-human, lathering it in conditioner after and letting it rest over his shoulder as he scrubs away the grease and dead skin from his body. The steam smells like vanilla and sandalwood - sweet smelling hair care and woody body wash he shares with his uncle. It feels good to be clean, even if his body is exhausted.

He shuts the water off after the fifteen minute mark - he’s usually an in and out kind of guy, but he’s reluctant to leave the warmth of the spray and steam that wraps him up like a hug.

He dried himself off with the only towel that doesn’t make him gag to touch. Not because they’re gross or anything, they’re fine, they just don’t have the right texture and he’d rather jump off a cliff than put himself through that. He’s used the same towel since he was fourteen and he refuses to toss it out even as it gets thinner.

Eddie dried off his hair roughly and wiped himself free of water, skin a rosy pink from the heat. He wrapped the towel around his waist and made quick work of brushing his teeth when he thought too long about how disgusting the inside of his mouth was. Spitting the paste out and feeling fresher, he made his way to his room, licking his lips as he watched Steve pick up his laundry.

“Dude.” He spoke up and Steve jumped, a faded band shirt in hand. He cleared his throat and tossed the shirt into Eddie’s hamper, hands finding his hips.

“Uh, sorry. Habit. Kids, you know, they- they don’t know how to pick up after themselves.” He rocked on his heels and shrugged, eyes flickering over Eddie’s body. He clapped his hands with a nervous laugh. “I’ll uh, I’ll let you get dressed, man.” He tried to step by Eddie like he had at the door, and as per usual, Eddie didn’t move out of the way like he probably should have. Steve’s hand finds his bicep and squeezes as he passes, maybe a reassurance or a nervous gesture, but Eddie appreciates the firm touch.

“Yeah...” Eddie watched Steve make his way to the living room and closed the door behind him slowly. He pushed his bangs back, still damp enough to stick out of the way as he pulled his drawer open. He dropped his towel and shucked on a pair of dark grey sweats along with a Led Zeppelin tee. Majority of his shirts were cheap ones he had made more his style with thread and scissors, or band tees he had got secondhand or saved up for. He cherished every one and wearing the bands he loved made him feel like himself.

Eddie drifted by his bedside table and picked up a ring, playing with it. Feeling the weight, the feel, trying it on and spinning the metal. One by one, he placed each ring where they belonged and gave it a spin to settle it against his skin. He scrounged around for a hair tie, wondering if he had lost his only remaining one until he found it under his tiny bookshelf that he tucked away at the end of his bed. He messily tied his hair back, ignoring the knots for now and just happy to feel it soft and fluffy again.

He took a deep breath and tore his bedroom open, making himself appear bigger and wilder than he felt.

“You better have saved me a beer, Harrington!” Steve jumped at his boisterous entrance, eyes wide as Eddie grabbed a lock of his hair, twirling and tugging, grinning as he practically spun and dipped himself onto the couch, lounging in the space besides Steve. His knee knocked against Steve’s and he began playing with his own loose strands at Steve’s bewildered expression.

“You...look better.”

“Ouch.” Eddie pouted and rubbed his chest as if he had been wounded. “I thought you came here to make me feel better, Stevie, but all you’ve done is insult me. You’ve really lost your touch.” Eddie sucked his teeth absentmindedly, eyes falling upon the beer in Steve’s hand. He heaved himself up to sit properly, stealing one from the carton by Steve’s foot. He twisted it open with the bottom of his shirt and sighed like a content man with his morning coffee.

They drank quietly, Eddie thankful for the quiet, but he could feel the tension in the atmosphere. He’d let Steve decide if he wanted to broach the topic. He got through half the bottle before Steve cleared his throat and leaned his elbow on his knee. Engaging Eddie into a conversation that hadn’t even begun yet.

“Look, I just want to know what happened. I know after the whole...Vecna thing, we didn’t really talk, not like you and Nance or you and Robin, heck even Dustin. I know we aren’t close, but like Jonathan likes to say, shared trauma bonds people. Hell, I care about you, man. A lot of us do. So when you go from making all these plans with people after it was all over to only a few weeks later not talking to anyone, skipping out on your band and your friends, we’re gonna be concerned.”

Eddie brought the lip of the beer to his mouth and held it there, not drinking but mulling over his thoughts. He sighed and let his hands fall into his lap, bottle dangling in his fingers as he tilted his head back against the couch.

“So Dustin really didn’t tell you. No one did?” He lolled his head to face Steve who only shook his head, turning to face him more. Elbow on the back of the couch, knee bumping his thigh and giving him his full attention. Hell, Eddie might have blushed. Probably did by the warmth tingling his cheeks.

He turned his face away as not to get lost in those concerned doe eyes. He stared at the ceiling and heaved a sigh. His chest felt heavy.

“Just good old school public humiliation. Got reminded that everyone in this town hates me, and that I...” Eddie swallowed through the ache, tonguing the upper right of his lip. “...really am...just a freak.” It comes out in a whisper, those last three words and he allows himself to turn his head to take in Steve’s expression, his own brown eyes big and sad.

All he gets is the most earnest response he thinks he’s ever heard out of Steve The Hair Harrington.

“You’re not a freak, Eddie.” He shakes his head subconsciously like he truly means it, baffled that Eddie would think so of himself. Somehow he gets even closer, a pained pinch in his brows. “You’re all kinds of fucking weird, but you’re not a freak. At least, not in a bad way.”

Eddie puckered his lips and moves his head away in an ‘aw shucks’ gesture.

“Flattery works wonders on me, Stevie.”

“I’m serious, man. You’re a good guy. Your freakiness saved our asses back in the Upside Down. El’s definitely not normal, you think we care? None of my friends are normal.” Steve huffed a laugh, looking away and placing his beer down on the coffee table. He placed those cool fingers on Eddie’s shoulder, encouraging the other to look him in the eye.

“You never let that shit bother you before. Why care now?”

“Because...I want people to like me.” And that’s the truth of the matter, isn’t it? He wanted people to like him when he was a kid, wanted his mother to like him, but when he realised he couldn’t have that, he threw the notion out of the window and decided he would just be himself. Loud and impulsive and nerdy. For a long time, it worked. He was able to convince the fellow losers that there was pride in being freaks.

But being on that stage, seeing how many people genuinely hated him, despised who he was, it cut too deep. Everyone wants to be liked, don’t they? Everyone wants to be loved and Eddie - Eddie isn’t sure if has ever been. If he ever will be. Sure, his Uncle loved him, but there was obligation there, his Uncle was naturally a kind person. He wouldn’t kick his own nephew onto the street.

“Eddie, people do like you.” Steve furrowed his brows, blinking in his confusion. “Your band, the kids, Nance, Robin, they all like you. They all consider you to be their friend. I just told you I think you’re great.”

“And I appreciate it.” Eddie smiled stiffly, patting Steve’s knee. “But I don’t really understand why. I get why people hate me. I don’t get why they like me though.” Eddie slowly stood up and finished off his beer in a few heavy swallows. He clanked it against the table with an exhale.

“It was nice. That you visited. But you can tell everyone I need some time away from...everything.” Eddie made a move towards his room, but Steve stands up too quickly and they collide, Steve gripping his arm.

“No.”

“No?” Eddie quirked a brow.

“No.” Steve reiterated. “You don’t get to just avoid the world because you’re sad. You think not going and doing the things you love, is going to make you happier?”

“It won’t make me happier.” Eddie admitted. “But it will be easier.”

“Tough shit. I’m not letting you wallow in that frankly disgusting room for another week and a half. You have to go to practice, you have to do another campaign, you have a movie night to attend - you have friends and promises to keep. You’re a graduate now, you have to start thinking about what you want to do, or apply for work so maybe you can take that guitar and get the hell out of this town. You have a life to live, Eddie, and you can’t waste it by holing up in this trailer forever.”

“That...was a magical speech, Harrington. Truly.” Eddie nodded his appreciation. “But I am tired. And I think I’d like to take a nap before I even think about the big, bad world.” He clapped a hand against Steve’s shoulder and stepped around him.

“Eddie-”

“A nap, man.” Eddie didn’t spare him a glance. “Lock the door behind you.” His door clicked shut and he tuned out the outside world as he crawled back into bed.

Steve doesn’t come after him, he isn’t sure how he feels about it, but it’s easier.

Everything is easier when you give up, it seems.

[daz4i]

ok ok I'm doing the silly and. talking abt my writing and showing parts of it and you gotta promise not to judge me and even if you find it cringe keep it to yourself pls be nice to me i am very sensitive!!!!!! anyway.

(tw for general depressing shit, mentions of death and implied csa near the end) (also this got so long I'm so sorry)

so the latest song(?) i wrote is called קלף טאקי בשולחן פוקר which is a reference to a local meme lol. i think i mentioned it before but if you missed it, it roughly translates to "uno card at a poker table". i think you can already guess what the topic of the song is. i actually wrote it after months of not writing anything and it felt like some of the grime on my brain was scrubbed off god bless

i have a file of a bunch of lines i come up with and don't know where to put yet and some of them are actually lifted from vent posts i make here and. this song was the first time i used smth from that file!! yippee!!!!

anyway i am not posting the whole thing bc my rhyming is. not good but I'll post some of my favorite parts in it i think. starting with

the lines the song opens with! originally it was called "unfit" (this word will come later too) but i wanted to get silly with it, hence the meme reference

speaking of references, that second line is one, to "avalanche" by bring me the horizon. great depression song go listen to it if you haven't yet. i kept thinking abt that line while writing and eventually i went "sure why not, may as well pay a tiny homage to one of my fav bands ever"

these are the opening lines of the second verse^

ik the length of the first one is a bit much compared to others and esp the first verse (see above), but this is one of the lines i grabbed from the aforementioned collection file and i was too attached to it to change it. i feel like once there's music and shit it might solve this

anyway i feel like here it's clearer what the topic actually is (the chorus also helps, but we'll get to that later) - having to be fake and pretending to be someone else in order for people to like you. the song wasn't originally supposed to be abt that but ngl most of what i write eventually comes to this lol (i think i have at least 3 other pieces about this oof <- joker kinnie)

this one!!!!! is a reference!!!!! to a play i liked as a teen and used a monologue from multiple times in acting school (everyone in the class loved the way i did it and asked me to keep using it in stuff and who am i to say no), dentity crisis by christopher durang!! it's about, well, identity crises lol, and eventually the main character loses herself trying to make sense of the people around her and the chaos of her life so naturally it felt like a fitting reference to make, esp with the whole theater theme

this is the. i wanna say bridge but idk all the right terminology oof. like the part before the final chorus+outro.

i think you might've picked up by now that this is a bit of a silly, somewhat sarcastic song on some level, hence the improv line lmao

when i hear this part in my head it's very dramatic, lots of belting like a broadway showstopper, mixed with some. almost spoken, yet still sing-song-y lines

and here the whole theater motif really picks up the pace too. honestly this one appears in a lot of my writing for obvious reasons, but it's especially fitting when the song is literally about pretending to be someone else in order to be loved

the game thing peeks its head in the first chorus which we will get into in a sec, but either way i think it goes hand in hand. games are often abt getting into the shoes of another character yknow? and there's a whole play on the word, well, play lol. and how it's both for games and for acting (in my first language we straight up don't have another word like "act". it's just the same as play and that's it. so maybe it works better in my head for that reason idk!)

music wise i imagine in the last 2~ lines the beat starts to slow down, the notes become a bit higher, every syllable is drawn out for a bit longer, and in "stops" there's a short pause before the final chorus comes in. speaking of!

yeah showing each of them separately would've been a bit too cringey even for me. i don't think they're good as standalones BUT i like them together paralleling each other. it's smth i like to do in almost every song i write tbh, and very often i switch between "i" "you" and "we" as the song keeps going, to sort of draw the listener/reader in and let them become a part of the "narrative" if they want to and relate to it hehe. kind of make them (and me) feel less alone in this feeling

second chorus talking abt masks is once again smth i put in a lot of what i write (<- joker kinnie. again) askflglg sorry for not being original it will happen again 👍 but what can i say, it's relevant to the topic!!

in the last one i tried adding some sense of urgency. a reminder that this comes after the build up of the bridge, so it'll either be more intense or more quiet. haven't decided yet.

"maybe one day I'll fit" goes with the original "unfit" idea. bc at the end of the day this is what it's all about yknow? gotta make up a humansona and constantly roleplay as it to get through.

and through that "maybe one day" sentiment I'll slide into the outro. it's less sung than it is spoken sing-songly and dramatically to the beat (speaking of, i imagine a slight key change by now, as well as the music itself becoming more chaotic and intense and messy for this part), so i didn't bother much with rhyming or a steady pace heh

i mean. can it really be something i wrote without at least one reference to death and/or being a slut (<- dazai kinnie).

actually ironically "better die as myself than be loved as a character" might be my favorite line in the whole thing bc. well as i said the song is sarcastic. in its essence it's about being TIRED of pretending to be someone else. it's about how it's not something you actually want, you only want its benefits. but eventually, at the end of the song, you're just too tired to keep it up. all shows have to end eventually. and, this connects back to the first chorus - "maybe one day I'll be myself", kind of implying this one day might be in death, since all of life is pretending (only good vibes and fun on this blog ♡)

but. not dead yet. and i still want the benefits. so better find an alternative! nobody needs to know who you are if you've got tits they can touch! - is what i learned growing up and as a teen it never failed me lol.

so, the song ends with finally taking off the mask, but. taking off everything else in the process as well. all for being wanted, or the pretense of being loved, because that's the only thing that matters 👌

and that's it! i apologize for being depressing and for how long it got, but i hope you liked it anyway uwu

[d-parade]

Low Self Esteem & The Desire To Be Beautiful: one reason for the trans epidemic

being insecure about oneself has been prominent since long ago, but recently there’s a sharp spike upwards for low self esteem in younger generations.

now lets imagine a scenario with a young teen, A.

A is insecure about himself. growing up he was bullied for being ugly, so he hates himself. everyday, he would wish that he was good looking because his life would improve. but that’s impossible, you can’t change your looks after all. no matter how much you work out, your face doesn’t change. plastic surgery looks unnatural and things might go wrong. to A, he doesn’t know what else to do.

now one day, A comes across a post about being “transgender”. he researches more into it and finds out that it’s possible to change into an entirely new you with hormones and surgery, all while looking natural. this is his chance to become good looking!

except A doesn’t realise his feelings as “wanting to become good looking”. rather, he thinks it’s dysphoria. unconsciously, he thinks that him becoming a woman is his way out of being ugly. that, as a woman, he would be good looking.

so A identifies himself as a trans woman. the communities accept and validate him, making him feel more wanted than ever before. that’s a good thing… right?

well, instead of going to therapy to sort out his emotions, A indulges online as a way to cope. all the positive support makes him even more sure he’s trans. after all, ever since being trans, he has been so much happier.

A is just one of many young teens who fall into this “trans trend”. due to low self esteem, they rely heavily on the dream of becoming good looking after transition, as well as the affirmations they receive from others, as a form of comfort. because they’re now special and loved.

this is bad because they’re blind to the root cause of their actual feelings. their identities revolve heavily around being trans only. so they equate their self worth using other’s validation, leading them to become more emotionally sensitive and unstable. and when they go ahead with hormones and surgery, dizzy with validation and dreams, reality hits them when it’s not what they’re expecting.

there’s a lot of such cases happening already, except you don’t know about them because they rarely announce them dropping their trans label. luckily it’s not at the stage where they take hormones and surgery yet.

you could say it’s harmless “self exploration”, but is it really that harmless?

“you’re just pulling shit outta your ass”. well, sure maybe i am. but it’s what i notice when i stumble onto trans spaces, especially those with chronically online teenagers.

“transitions goals” include anime characters, models, very much attractive individuals. it’s normal for people to want to become good looking, but that’s not the point of transition. and the emphasis on being good looking, cute, handsome… is way too much. “being trans is beautiful”. ok? “having depression is wonderful.” type shit.

“well no one is taking the goals seriously. people know it’s not going to happen” you could argue that. but amongst thousands, there’s bound to be teens who truly believe it, albeit unconsciously, like A.

this is coming from someone who suffers from low self esteem and used to rely on others’ to gauge my own worth. trust me, the validation is addicting. but i managed to step away from those spaces, figure out my feelings slowly, and realise just how bad it was for my growth as a person. so now i no longer care as much about whether people see me as a man. as long as i know i’m being me.

my experiences and opinions definitely don’t represent everyone. but if it happened to me, its going to happen to some other poor kid out there. and i hate to see that happenin.

[solarianvoidthearoace]

I’m hesitant to call myself disabled

Or even refer to my frequent joint problems/ pain as chronic. I mean, yeah, I have been wearing my wrist splint the last 6 weeks + and my wrist hurts when I pick up something heavier than a water bottle. But does that count, though? Does it?

And my knees are currently fine because I have been wearing my orthopaedic insoles. So I’m technically not hindered by my knees.

My migraine and occasional headache comes and goes, that’s neither here nor there. – I did have mild headaches for almost 20 months straight in 2021 & 2022

As for my orthostatic intolerance, yeah, that’s been a bitch. (Probably worse than before ever since I had Covid beginning of November 2022) But I also feel like I just drink too little. And if that’s it, do I even have orthostatic dysfunction? Sure, it’s too warm for me already and I’m about panting when I took two flights of stairs at 25°C. But is that orthostatic intolerance or am I just lazy and unathletic?

I have had most of this shit (joint pains, back pain, orthostatic intolerance/ cardiovascular weakness, migraines) since my mid- to late-teens.

And yet

Jury’s still out on whether I genuinely have any form of dysautonomia and what’s up with my joints, whether that’s some rheumatism

Like, I got myself a cane to try out whether that can help me. I’m used to just… coping with shit. I have a whole drawer of splints and support bandages. I started wearing compression stockings back in 2021.

I… I cope and I feel like no doctor will diagnose me with shit but I also feel like I couldn’t accept hearing “no, you’re healthy and just need to work out more”. So I’m not exactly eager to see a medical specialist although I really want to know what’s wrong with my body and I want it acknowledged. But that’s also the thing, I want acknowledgement and assistance with coping rather than a cure and… I feel like that’s also… like, if it was “bad enough”, if it was genuinely disabling, I would want it gone, right?

But I have already accepted that living with these issues is fine, that it’s not going to be curable and that I’ll cope and that’ll be my life. Which, I know that sounds stupid and I understand if someone called me a faking attention seeker. Not getting help at all seems… not even trying to get help, maintaining my status quo, seems easier than to struggle with medical professionals.

I’m 24, I’m too young for this shit and if it was chronic it would have been a problem for years so why didn’t I go see a doctor when it started?

Plus I always felt like my mental illnesses and my neurodivergence are the bigger hinderance in my life.

Well, at least during school they were. Unmedicated ADHD-PI, major depression, generalised anxiety, avoidant personality disorder, rejection-sensitive dysphoria, complex trauma/ CPTSD, trauma regarding specific events, and I’m very likely also autistic.

And let me tell you, my RSD and AvPD are pretty rough on literally any social interaction. I refuse to ask for help because I don’t want to burden people. I refuse to ask for accommodations I’m entitled to because I’m worried someone might question my right to accessibility. Generally, anxiety controls every aspect of me being a member of society and I think some demand-avoidance might also factor in because I’m just so scared of fucking up that doing nothing and getting yelled at seems less stressful than putting in work and getting yelled at none the less.

And “very likely” is putting it mildly, I very much fit the described experience of AuDHD folks. But technically it could also just be my anxieties making it look like I’m autistic. Which I doubt but since I was also told I’m not depressed, it’s just AvPD, eeeeh… yeah.

I’m pretty confident with my self-assessment even though I have had people laugh in my face when I told them about self-diagnosing.

Idk man, I just live here.

And I sometimes feel like I’m faking it…? Even though from my experience acknowledging stuff like my autism only got me snide comments to not be difficult and just push myself to comply. So idk which benefit I would gain from faking any of these issues. But the imposter syndrome is still there.

Further self-conscious identity struggle under the cut.

And while you can pry “queer” from my cold dead hands, I don’t feel entitled to refer to myself as gay

I’m aroace but in terms of queerplatonic/ alterous attraction I would date someone regardless of gender BUT I have a definite preference for femboys, femme men, non-binary men and AMAB* non-binary people

I myself am a transneutral-transmasc person and never connected with “being a woman/ girl”. I have always felt more comfortable being a guy but I acknowledge I’m not a man. I’m an agender guy and I’m a genderqueer guy and I’m masc transneutral. I consider the terms masculenby and MINgender also correct descriptors but only in reference of me being agender-genderqueer. Like, that’s the focal point, the frame of reference. I’m agender and genderqueer first and foremost, only within that is my gender experience masc-in-nature and vaguely aligned with masculinity.

So my attraction to queer men and my gender being masc-aligned… I don’t feel like I’m allowed to call myself gay. Because I don’t make an effort to look masc/ genderqueer/ agender

I want to make it clear I would never judge or discredit someone in my exact situation for calling themself gay or a fag or whatever they want to use to describe their achillean attraction.

I just don’t feel like I’m allowed to because I get treated and pass for a tomboy cis-woman. I firmly reject the notion of being a woman, I am not woman and never was a girl. But I still appear to be one so I feel like I can’t raise a stink around it.

Which is also why I don’t think my ideal relationship has any chance of happening.

I want to be with an AMAB* non-binary person who is feminine. They don’t need to be transfem but my attraction is certainly geared towards flamboyant and effeminate men and AMAB* enby people. Could probably be simplified to femboys. *I feel weird referring to this as a genital preference but I acknowledge that that is part of it and hence saying AMAB is not entirely correct. Because I’m sex-averse and would rather not but I can see myself having sex again with a future partner who happens to have a penis. I can not picture myself having sex with someone without a penis. And that genital preference kinda makes me feel icky because I’m agender myself and I feel like it shouldn’t matter but…

If I were to find a partner like that, chances are they would understand and accept my own complex relationship to gender and how I feel about myself in relation to being masc, being a guy, not being a man, being agender-genderqueer.

But even if that was to fit, I doubt I would be lucky enough to have that same person be understanding and supportive of my aroace-ness. It’s unshakeable I’m aroace and that can’t be removed from who I am. Much less in a relationship. I’m proudly aromantic and I’m a sex-averse asexual. Wouldn’t want to chance either of those aspects. (Although I could do without the sexual trauma.)

Actually, regarding tertiary attraction. I don’t feel romantic or sexual attraction as a blanket statement. But I do experience physical attraction, the want to be close, the tactile attraction to cuddle and kiss someone, I crave domesticity and to have a person I can call my home. My person, my home, my domestic bliss. And I don’t know whether what I experience – what I want for my ideal relationship – is actually alterous attraction. I think it is because it goes beyond queerplatonic, even, and it’s more than queerplatonic but the exact mixture it is is individual to the partner I’m with. Which is why I chose to use the term idemalterous; I don’t know whether it really is that different from queerplatonic attraction but I choose to define it as alterous attraction.

I don’t think there is a chance of me finding a person who accepts and supports my identity even if they are the one stuck with me for a partner. My relationship to sex/ my asexuality is a bit layered and I dare say contradictory. I want a partner who finds me sexually attractive and is, uhm, sexually available…? for those few rare once-in-a-blue-moon occasions I would like to sleep with them. With how inherently queer my attraction is, with how inherently queer my “type” is, I do have some ideas about sexual activity tbh. Like, it’s queer sex between queer people anyway, why bother simulating heteros? Although I do have my sexual trauma to consider and I know it’s a huge turn-off for many people that even if I’m interested I wouldn’t be as available as someone without trauma around sex.

Although I partially think my huge trauma around kink is a bigger hinderance than my asexuality/ sex-aversion. A lot more people are a lot more kinky than they give themself credit for and I’m someone who can not “give it a try”. Which disqualifies me for a larger demographic of potential partners than one might think.

I would like to have someone to love, to be domestic with, to hype each other up, care for and support each other because we want to. Yes I would like if that person found me sexually attractive even if I can’t return that, and them being aromantic is somewhat implicit because I need them to understand how attraction and relationships work for me. I would very much like to find my queerplatonic “one and only”, to find someone who can in return also put the work in to make us become that “the one” for each other. But I know my preferences are too specific.

And to have that supportive, accepting, queerplatonically-loving person be an alt/ punk/ goth/ emo femboy? Yeah, big chance that’ll ever happen to me. (Sarcasm.)

So settling with the thought of my ideal relationship being unachievable is easier. I’m not saying a person like this doesn’t exist, I’m not saying people like me can’t find happy relationships.

I’m just saying I don’t believe in myself ever getting that. Finding that. Which is why I refuse to call this hopes or expectations or anything more concrete than preferences and dreams.

Because my wishes are a great deal above someone just treating me well and respecting me. And I know I just don’t get lucky like that so there is no point in calling this a hope when I know full-well it’s an unrealistic dream.

[wild-at-mind]

Random thought I had but I kind of do sympathise with people who find adult novels offputting and hard to choose, and say this when they talk about preferring to read YA. ‘Adult books are just full of divorces and sad men’ or whatever they say. I remember feeling exactly that way when I was late teens early 20s, and I get that it only takes one bad novel to really put you off. Mine was A Spot of Bother by Mark Haddon, I chose it because he also wrote Curious Case of the Dog in the Nighttime (bit of a red flag to me now as I’ve reevaluated that book very much, but at the time it was still considered accurate and fairly groundbreaking). An early event in A Spot of Bother is a middle aged man who sees an odd mole on his back and thinks he has skin cancer, hence the title. Instead of having it looked at medically he becomes convinced he is going to die and spirals mentally. I’ve always had a lot of health anxiety, and in my late teens I lacked the perspective to realise that we are supposed to think his reaction of counting himself dead immediately before he even knows if it’s cancerous is very over the top and suggests underlying mental health problems, and his decision to not go to the doctor is very unwise. (FYI it’s set in the UK so no medical bills.) So that was a bad start, it had me all like ‘oh no I hope I never get a skin mole or it will be an instant death sentence!’ Another thing was it was just a very gross book (as was Curious Incident actually)- someone’s kid has diarrhea and you will hear all about it descriptively, gross health stuff is described relating to the main character and his fears, etc. If there is something gross we will hear about it, to the point of gratuity. There is also just a general depressing, hopeless feel to Haddon’s novels, which I found utterly miserable. I didn’t have much to compare this book to at the time so I just assumed all adult novels were like that and it really put me off them for a while. Key thing is: all adult novels are not like that, this is actually a stylistic choice on the part of Mark Haddon, and it turns out that I just don’t like that particular style. I eventually learned that novels for adults can be beautiful, compelling, sensitive, thought provoking, impactful, basically anything there is. I think choosing novels for yourself is hard when you start out so I would recommend one of the many novel rec lists on tumblr or around the web, there is no shortage of guidance to find a book you will love. I’m very lucky to have a sister who reads everything and gives me books she thinks I will love for my birthday, she hasn’t been wrong yet and has given me some of my favourite books like this. (Who knew that instead of reading about skin lesions and shit I could have been reading about the most delicious pork dish ever with Banana Yoshimoto?) But not everyone is lucky and has someone close to hand who is great at recs. Luckily there are people online who will happily help you. Happy reading and hope you find something wonderful!

[slightlyineffable]

I fucking hate pmdd like I've been doing so well lately! my mental health has been good!! but then over the course of this afternoon my mood has just tanked. I'm not at the worst point yet but I know it's coming and I hate it. I don't want to have to deal with this shit every 3 weeks for the next 30 years. I have so many thoughts going round and round my head that I know will seem ridiculous to me in a weeks time but rn they feel very real. I'm so sensitive to rejection at this point in my cycle and having the person I like barely message me today has me feeling kinda shitty. I know how utterly juvenile that thought is, I really do, but that doesn't change the emotional impact its having on me rn!! I'm just glad I have doctors who have taken me seriously and we're trying different treatments but god I had really hoped that this was just a relic of my teen years

(edit: I'm okay, I'm not a danger to myself, just stressed depressed and tired)

[tbd99]

entry: 11

I'm tired of feeding into my own sadness.

At what point can you truly say you're truly depressed, and not forcing yourself to say there? I feel that if I really tried, I could escape this emptiness that has been following me my whole life. I actually have tried that lately. I tried doing something that I loved... but I just couldn't. I got frustrated each and every day I tried making a change for the better. I just hope that one warm summer day, it'll all go away, and I'll finally feel happy. I don't even know what day it is, that's the kind of loop I'm living in. It's 2:50 am on some random day in the year, and that's all I know. I don't go outside anymore, and the reason for it is cowardly. I'm scared of the people, and their eyes. If I can't even try and be happy, why am I still here? If it takes to much of me to even do the littlest things. My mother has told me to do the same things for the past 3 days. Unload the dishwasher, clean the living room, and clean the bathroom. 3 small tasks normal people do everyday. But I'm not normal. I'm lazy. I'm a lazy person who can't do anything right. Mother doesn't say that but I know she thinks it. When I ask her to make me food because I'm hungry I know she looks at me like I'm a helpless child. but that's not true. i don't need anyone. i never have. i don't need anyone to try and fix me either. i begged my mother to take me to therapy and well... even the therapist said I wasn't depressed and to go on more walks. that's what the problem was. i was upset at first, no one could see how bad I was , but now that I think about it, I really was fine. even now, I am. people think about this kind of thing all the time. people think about suicide. people cut themselves. im no different. people just get over it faster than I do. I tried to look for pills in my mother's pill cabinet last night. or well-- a few weeks ago maybe?? my memory is really bad. she had nothing but allergy pills, but I could only look for like.. 4 minutes, until my sister came knocking at my door. it was scrambling to put the pills back in the cabinet, and I don't even know where this rant is going. i just think im ready to try again. that's my point. im not even spelling things properly or putting stuff in coherent sentences, and frankly, I don't care. someone I know is having a birthday party, and it would be a good way to say goodbye to all my friends. i normally try and do this each time I attempt. they've had to put up with me for so long, I feel as if I owe them a goodbye.

i wasnt going to go because ive been looking and feeling like total shit. i mean you cant look at me but if you did I look seriously awful. my skin is all grey, and my eyes are all dull. i haven't been speaking much, and honestly. i don't know how my mother doesn't know whats going on.. I've been starting to suspect for a while she knows, but doesn't really care to help. I've felt like this for so long, there's no way no one can understand me. I'm the youngest in my whole family by like... a whole decade. sometimes, I feel like some monkey in a cage. no one takes me seriously, and they all just disregard my actions as me being a teenager. which I get. I'm a pretty angst teen. but.. I've always been this way. I feel like the people in my family understand me, because they've been a teen before, but they're so detached from this feeling. sometimes, I wonder if anyone in my family has felt the things I've felt before. i don't think I'm sensitive, but, when you make a whole tumblr blog just to rant your feelings..... its sure starting to work that way. going back to that birthday party thing, I was thinking of going. but.. i hate the act I have to put on whenever I see my friends. I'm a very bleak and monotone person, but if my friends ever heard someone describe me that way, they wouldn't believe it. i put on this show whenever I'm around people, so they don't worry about me. I've been doing it my whole life. i don't know why I do it, it just makes me feel better if others don't know the rotting going on in my mind. i really don't feel good enough, but I guess ill stop ranting. sorry this was so rambly.

[morizoras-cave]

Fat (Request)

Tom Holland x teen!co-star!reader

Genre: angst, slight fluff

Request Description: hi i was wondering if i could request a tom holland x teen!reader where he finds out she has an eating disorder maybe? i know this is a sensitive topic so obviously if it makes you uncomfortable i completely understand :) thank you!

Warnings: EATING DISORDER body insecurity, sad shit, depression

(A/N): my nose is STUFFED, my ears are POPPIN, my dog is BARKING. anyway on a more serious note, “eat body positivity” - shane madej. i tried to not specify the reader’s body type. you should be able to read this whether you’re thick and beautiful or skinny and beautiful or somewhere in between and beautiful :)

You were always self conscious of your body. For as long as you could remember, you just didn’t feel beautiful. But for most of your life, that wasn’t something you had acted on. Not like now. 

The news of your casting in the newest installment of the Spiderman franchise had brought more eyes than ever to you. Perhaps it was manageable before because you could hide away, but you couldn’t anymore. There were always people filming or taking pictures now. 

You’d only been filming for about a month, but you were the lowest you’d ever been mental health-wise. You’d started starving yourself for as long as you possibly could every day. If you couldn’t get out of eating, you’d stick your fingers down your throat to trigger your gag reflex. 

You knew it was bad. Of course you did. But you had to. Besides, it felt so good, each day that passed with nothing eaten. How could you stop?

Of course, Tom noticed something off about you. All of the cast did. But just like Tom, they all wrote it off as you just being slightly strange, and you just being very fragile. He could see you losing weight, but blamed it on the hectic schedule and possibly a diet. 

It took a lot of weird occurrences for Tom to notice. He had walked in on you having “lunch”, only to see no food in sight (which you always blamed on simply not having had time to get it yet). He’d seen you staring in the mirror uncomfortably a couple of times, but he could always blame that on him just seeing things.

Still, the cards were stacking against you, and it all came crumbling down, when Tom walked into your hotel room, expecting to rehearse some lines, when he heard you in the bathroom.

You’d given in and eaten something, just to cease the pain in your stomach. But the moment you’d eaten it, you’d felt horrible and you stumbled helplessly into the bathroom. 

You had to get it out of you. You would get fatter. Fatter than you already were. You had to get it out of you. You had to.

Tom refrained from calling out your name because of the pit forming in his stomach. He knew. He knew when he saw your form bent over the toilet, shaking and gargling. 

He was shaken. 

“Y/n,” his voice was just a whisper, seemingly the only sound capable of escaping him. You heard him though, and froze, pulling away, but not facing him.

“Oh, Tom,” you mumbled. He could see you, thinking. You stood up, and it was like it had never been clearer how much weight you’d lost, when your legs shook under you. 

You turned around and faced him. “I just haven’t been feeling well, that’s all,” your voice was hoarse as you looked him in the eyes, tears falling down your face. The lie hung in the indifferent air. Tom just stood there. 

You couldn’t decipher his face. Was he angry? Would he laugh at you? The tears kept falling from your face, and you pathetically tried to stop them. “I just haven’t been-” 

Tom cut you off with a hug, as his arms wrapped around your body and he squeezed, like he needed confirmation you were there. Your face pressed against his chest allowed you to hear his uncontrollable heartbeat.

You brought your arms around him. Tom kept grasping you harder, like you were slipping away, and it broke your heart. And you broke his heart.

“Y/n,” his voice sounded like the feelings that coated his insides, rotten and black, “You can’t- You can’t do this, N/n. You can’t-” his voice broke. He breathed in sharply, attempting to keep away the tears.

“But, Tom. I’m so.. I’m so fat! I’m so ugly! I need to-”

“But you’re not! You’re not fat. You’re so beautiful. Your body is so beautiful. It is now and it always has been. But the thing about right now..,” Tom broke hug to step away from you a little, both hands still on your shoulders. He looked you in the eyes. “Right now your body is not healthy.” 

“I know!.. I know.  I just wanted to feel beautiful..” you mumbled and ran back into his arms. Tom felt himself dying at your pure misery. 

He sat you both down on your hotel bed, and just held you there in his arms, rubbing your back as you cried into him. “It’s okay. It’s okay. You are beautiful. You’re so pretty.” 

You and him sat there for a long time. First, he was just comforting you, whispering to you that you were beautiful. Then, once you’d calmed down, he had to convince you it wasn’t embarrassing. Because it wasn’t, and Tom just wanted you to feel happy.

Then you two had a long talk about how you were going to fix this. You tried to convince him to let you take care of it yourself, but Tom was not going to let this go. He said that you either needed to take a couple of months off of filming to recover at home, or you had to inform your manager, so she could plan your meals and watch over you as you ate them (and make sure you didn’t throw it up). 

Either way, Tom, from that day forward, never let you walk a day without receiving several compliments. 

“You look lovely today!”

“Beautiful dress! You look stunning!” 

“All the boys are fainting in shock over your beauty.”

It was very corny and cringy at times, but it was the boost you needed. You couldn’t say it fixed all your problems, but it helped and it was a start.

It might not have been right in that moment, but you knew that in the future you would be able to look at yourself and love every single speck that you’d see. And you were looking forward to that day, and hey, even more than you, was Tom. Because he did think that you beautiful, despite whatever your weight was, as long as you were happy. And that is the way it should be. :)

___________________________

Tag List:

@hera-the-writer @marvel-madness @40srogcrs @whatthefuckimbisexual @ireadfanficforfun @snarky–starky @garbage-potato @eviemarvel @lozzypoz321 @allthecreativeonesaretaken​

[maggotbxby]

Fire and Ice - Carol Denning x OC/Reader A/B/O Fic

SUMMARY: Sallie Novak, a 19 year old omega, gets sent to litchfield max for attempted murder, and has to survive in a prison that consists of mostly Betas and Alphas.

CHAPTER ONE

Sallie Novak never thought she would end up in prison, but with the unfortunate circumstances that have occurred over the past 2 years of her life, it honestly may be the better option than being at home.

Being an omega, she was told to do the right thing and never the wrong thing, her mother raised her that way. At first, it was okay. Her mother was a strong omega and taught Sallie to control her heats and not get swept up in relationships. She didn’t end up as a pregnant teen, so she didn’t do too bad.

Though when Sallie was 16, her mother met Dan, an ex-military alpha who is the biggest fucking cuntstick on the planet. He actually seemed incredibly nice at first, for the first year of knowing him, actually. He had money and took care of Sallie and her mother who didn’t have much since her father died when she was 12, and her mother worked as a manager at a grocery store.

After Dan and her mother got married, however, the dynamic shifted, Dan seemed to turn into a different person. He got lazy and grew a dependence for alcohol, and they quickly discovered that he got violent when he drank. He began to get very abusive towards Sallie’s mother, and it sent her into a highly depressive state. She lost her job and hardly left her bedroom most days.

Sallie was unsure why or how Dan’s attention got shifted to her instead of her mother, but it did. Sallie would come home from school and Dan would be drunk, and he would find ridiculous excuses to be pissed off at her; she didn’t do the dishes before she left, or she forgot to feed the dog, anything. On the good days, he would scream at her and she’d shut herself in her room and cry, on the bad days, she would be in her bedroom with belt marks, scrapes, and bruises all over her body.

He never took interest in her sexually, as far as she knew. She took suppressants and wore scent blockers so he could never smell her, but he did make occasional comments about her figure and slapped her ass a couple times, so, he wasn’t innocent in that regard either.

Eventually, she had enough of the abuse, she couldn't take it anymore, so one day, when she was bringing him coffee (Which he made her do, every morning), she slipped rat poison in it. But the motherfucker caught on, he could taste it in his fucking coffee, and he wasted no time calling the police.

That’s when she knew she was fucked.

So Sallie ended up in prison. Granted, the time for her was shorter than most, but as an omega, she knew there wouldn’t be many like her. And there weren’t. Omegas didn’t commit crimes and go to jail like alphas do. They stayed pretty and did little offenses that very rarely got them in trouble. Omegas were pure little creatures, even though a lot of them had a nasty sex life, they always kept things clean on the outside and blamed others for their faults like the prissy little bitches they were. Well, Sallie never did that. She took the blame, and though she tried and tried to report Dan’s abusive behaviour, her mother, always denied it, and it was the word of an attempted murderer against that of a woman with a clean record and a veteran.

So here she was, litchfield fucking Max. Walking in with cuffs on her hands, glaring back at everyone who looked at her. The prison provided scent blockers for omegas, and hormone suppressants, but that didn’t make Sallie any less nervous, the suppressants weren’t the same ones Sallie was used to taking, and the blockers weren’t very strong.

They stopped at a gate, and next to it was a large “C” on the wall. “Welcome to C-Block” the guard said as the gate opened and they walked in.

Even with the blockers, she noticed some alphas got a whiff of her smell as she walked by, causing some to lick their lips as if they were a treat, palm at themselves with obvious sexual frustration, while others bit down on their bottom lip to seem less obvious of their intentions when gazing at her body. She shouldn’t be here. She should be somewhere else with more protection, yet here she was… She didn’t realize she'd be mixed in with alphas, even if there wasn’t that many. Sallie didn’t have a plan for what she was going to do while she was here. She didn’t have a plan on staying safe and keeping herself up in the long run. She had nothing.

She was so fucked.

Practically shoved into her little cell, Sallie found herself back towards the guard who had pushed her in. “So, inmate,” the guard spoke. Helman, was it? “Most of the time Omegas are put into Florida, but since we're short on space there, you'll have to stay here until we find an alternative. There aren’t many alphas here, but there are a couple. That means no making yourself vulnerable; cover your scent as much as you can, or you will be fucked over if one of us isn't here. We can’t be by your side every hour of the day, and the male guards won’t be the most reliable if you accidentally seduce them with your scent.”

Sallie wanted to scoff at the male’s words, staring at him. Her expression clearly showed she was nervous. “My cellmate isn’t an alpha, right?” She asked.

“Obviously not, your cellmate is a beta, one of our most docile inmates. Don't expect any more special treatment just because you're an omega though. You got yourself in this mess, and now there’s no way out. You should have been a good little whore and stayed put instead of going out and doing bad things.”

The guard’s words tore right through Sallie, making her go pale for a moment. The look in his eyes showed that he wasn’t messing around and that he was looking for what many of the inmates were looking for: A hole to fuck.

This was her life now.

“This was the end of your special treatment, Novak. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner will not be taken to you. Dinner is in ten, tomorrow you have orientation after breakfast. Don't be late for it. We have eyes on you, so you have little to worry about,” the guard was smirking. “I would get a head start on getting to dinner.The good trays always get taken by the alphas.”

Sallie breathed shakily, nodding her head slowly.

Keep your head up, Novak. They won't hurt you.

——

“Ooh, look at this new cookie, you don’t look half bad,” a voice jeered at Sallie when she went to get in line for her dinner tray. She couldn’t resist glaring over, seeing a slightly overweight girl with badly bleached hair laughing at her. She was with a group who already had their dinner trays, sitting at a table. Sallie gave the girl a dirty look, but then she noticed a movement behind her.

It was just a tiny movement, a cocking of the head. And yet for a second when Sallie saw her, she forgot how to breath. The woman was staring right at her, eyes narrowed how a predator would watch its prey. Sallie immediately knew this woman was an alpha, not even having to smell her. Sallie’s brain told her to look away but she simply couldn’t. She didn’t know if it was her omega needing this or just deep curiosity, but she kept her gaze, taking in large 80’s glasses and the end of a lollipop that stuck out of her mouth. But then she blinked, and Sallie felt her face flush and the world came rushing back. She quickly looked away and bore her gaze at the food cart, making sure not to look back at the woman.

When she got her food and sat at an empty table, 2 inmates quickly came up and sat on each side of her, their smell flooding her senses; alphas.

“So… what's your name, pretty little omega? Why did you end up in this sickening place? You must have fucked up, bad.”

“Shut the hell up,” Sallie spat.

“Feisty. I like that.” A second prisoner spoke up, grinning towards her. Her hand began to rub Sallie’s thigh, causing her to flinch. “Oh, they were right about omegas… You are sensitive, huh, pretty girl?”

“Leave me the fuck alone…” She growled, nudging her off her thigh. “I don't fuck around like that. Just because I'm an omega doesn't mean I'm not strong.”

“But I think it does… You see, if all of us were to pin you against this table right now, there would be no escape. I think the guards would even join in on the fun! Either that or we would get thrown in the SHU, but none of us give a shit about that. All we care about is that we might be getting a wet hole to fuck…”

“Hey, knock it off.” A woman’s voice rang through, and the two immediately scattered, there was an instant heaviness in the air. The fear the voice instilled in the other alphas made Sallie nervous as fuck. She looked over and realized it was the voice of the woman she saw earlier. She was no longer looking at Sallie, she was now speaking to the girl with the awful hair.

“Oi Gapman, go sit with that cookie. And nobody fuck with her, got it?” A heavy Bronx accent rang out from that girl, she sounded almost annoyed to say what she did.

A few moments later a thin woman with greasy blonde hair came up to Sallie and sat with her. She was an Omega, Sallie could tell simply by her demeanour, and the alpha bite mark on her neck. Knowing she wasn’t the only omega here made her feel a little bit more safe.“Sorry about these guys, they’re awful here to omegas, but in my experience Carol doesn’t tolerate a bunch of horny alphas like Barb does over in D-Block, so you should be fine. Oh, I’m Chapman, uh, Piper.” She said and stuck her hand out.

Sallie shook her hand with a blank expression. “Carol?” She asked

“She runs the gang here in C-Block. Everything goes through her. I haven't been here long, but I’ve seen her gang do some shit, I wouldn’t mess with her. Oh and her fucking right hand is a bitch, Badison’s her name, the one who yelled at me to come over here in the first place.”

“Badison?” Sallie chuckled. “What kind of name is that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but she’s my cellmate, and it’s torture. Don’t get on her bad side like I did. She’s just a beta, and honestly I think her attitude is to try to overcompensate for her genetics.”

Sallie just nodded and got lost in thought for a moment. She really didn’t care about this ‘Badison’ character. She did care about Carol though… The quick scurrying off from the other alphas made more sense now, they’re all scared of her. Sallie wonders how long she’s been in here for, and what she’s done.

——

About 15 minutes later, Sallie returned to her cell to try and get some rest. Upon entering she saw a short, blue haired girl sitting on the top bunk reading a book.

“Uh, hey, you must be my cellmate. I didn’t see you when I first got assigned. I’m Sallie Novak.”

The girl looked up from her book and grinned, hopping down from her bunk. “Great! They’re finally giving me a cellmate! I’m Jacs Walker, sorry I didn’t see you in admission, I’ve been in medical, caught a shiv in the ribs a couple days ago from a dickhead alpha over in D-Block.”

“Damn, sorry, that had to suck.” Sallie replied, kind of dumbfounded how positive this girl's energy was for just being shivved.

“It’s all good, shit happens, I shouldn’t have been trying to score from them. Anyways, you can have the bottom bunk, and those hooks there.” She pointed at the wall, “I know you’re an omega, but don't worry, I’m not into girls.”

Sallie nodded, not really sure how to respond, and she sat in her bunk. “If you don’t mind, I’m exhausted, I need some rest.”

“Of course, intake day is the worst! I’d know, I’ve been sent here 3 different times. Get some sleep.”

It wasn’t long before she drifted off to sleep with thoughts of large glasses and bright blue eyes…

[glamorousguilt]

This is not a perspective post or any other note what you usually see on this account (if you see I don't think so anyone's gonna see it)

I'm writing here my most naked and raw emotions present inside me which is killing me each day cause i need to vent out and have some comfort, i tried so many other things writing it all, venting it out in my diary pages so i keep it me to me, because I'm scared of people having to know such delicate and sensitive part of me i don't want to show my rawest part to them cause i don't trust them, i don't trust them to understand, they can't understand it they're so fucking stupid, they're so immature teenagers , i mean I'm too in terms of age but i left the ground of being a teenager long time ago when I wasn't even a teen, maturity and realisation of real life hit me so hard at young i didn't get to have my teenage, this is good in many ways to be having such big truth of world at so young but it also makes me miserable they act like they do understand well they really don't

And this feeling kills more fucking worse actually this feeling fucks me up all where all around from every angle possible, getting much kinky right? ;)

Serious now I just feel like such a heavy pressure building inside me that it might kill me (it's already killing but) and that pressure can be all released by just a hug , yes i said a hug someone who understands this emotion like i do and holds me tight not letting go forever , well i tried and failed so many times most times i get rejected for a hug yes a fucking small hug these "caring" people can't even afford that for me, and even if they don't push they won't hug me back and it hurts , also even if they do they be some few bitches like accepting it and letting it go, letting me go in mili point second i hear their words "let go now" what shit it takes Outta your ass to be nice to people , do you actually have to be an asshole all time

Damn bitch one hug million complexities

People can't let go being an asshole and i can't be one because of being a forever overly caring fooking stupid person, but i think I'm being a good , actually best asshole ranting it like that ain't I? ;)

Okay so

Having idiots who don't even know their motive in life giving fucking dumb advices to someone like me irritates the shit out of me, I'm not blaming that they're young so i should be trusting old people no they fucking old grown ass men they think they're really smart cause they old, I'm like bitch fuck off please you really out of my league but i don't cause you know "disrespectful"

I see em' having toxic fucking positivity quotes as if it's gonna go any fucking better by their "knowledge", no it doesn't bitch have your ass down when you don't know how to "help" and in reality they don't give a fuck they're fake people just proving to other fake people that they good..

It's a nice one I'll post it

I feel depressed all time i know but even more depressed when people are like "see around everything's beautiful be grateful for it you taking it for granted) oh really bitch!? Ya think so? I know very fucking well I'm more grateful of my fine ass than you would ever be of your skinny body , ehho fuck you!!!

But this was supposed to be an emotional post actually it started being emotional but having ended up being a rant, it's still good though

I know 99.99% no one's gonna see it if see it no one's gonna fucking read it , damn this whole ass read who gonna but here on Tumblr there's a Lil possibility someone might see and my venting out would be a success!!!!!

[mydearesthrry]

places we won’t walk (chapter one) || peter parker

summary - the doors at midtown seem a little boring, but when you get introduced to someone you seem to remember, what happens when they seem to remember you too?

word count - 2.9k (wow shes gettin better!)

pairings - peter parker x fem!reader

warnings - like mild mention of s*xual assault, angst if you squint really hard, mj being a softy for you, mj being a lowkey bi, peter being stupid as always, y/n calling peter a colonizer.... thats it ok enjoy

a/n: so i know i last updated in october, but as u all saw i have a 25 days of xnas thing going on (PLS I WROTE THE A/N LIKE A MONTH AGO PLUS I FORGOT ABOUT THE XMAS THING DISREGARD) so pwww updates will be slow (as if they werent already omg) but the next chapter will be arriving hopefully, fingers crossed, on xmas eve or xmas! also, are you guys watching the new euphoria episode? also, i’ve stopped using the word ‘stuttering’, as it may be ableist, and i’d never wanna come off as insensitive. anyway lmao, enjoy chapter one, the trials and tribulations of hitting someone in the nuts.

also side note psa: biggest thank you to @blossomparkers for helping me so much w this chapter. i owe it all tooooo u lani yani. thank u for everything !!!!!

series masterlist | regular masterlist | series playlist

(gif not mine!)

when y/n y/m/n stark was in her early years, she was never aware of the impact her father would and did hold over her life, and in turn, the whole world. for the longest time, you’d always assumed that your father wasn’t real, and everything that had been told to you by malicious family members who were jealous over your father’s “successes” had been lies, and you had it believed yourself. no one would even think that you were tony stark’s daughter until it had been mentioned. tony’s snarky attitude had been a character trait that you’d gotten, and you always took pride in your humor and attitude.

the story of your mother and tony had been messy and all over the place. from a drunken hook-up followed by multiple days of morning sickness, to a surprise pregnancy test, the storyline of your parents had been.. well.. interesting to say the least. you never focused on your family’s history, solely based on the fact that you didn’t have two fucks to give about your family history, but you also never knew your father which was-- bizarre. 

when tony had found out about you, he claimed it was a drunken accident, a mistake, and one he made when he was “less responsibly a stark”, which was actually just some fucking bullshit, but he didn’t wanna admit that he hooked up with some random chick at a bar that he thought was hot.

since you had been raised by a mother who was barely there, you had to raise yourself. you were kinda street smart and book smart, and you were always smart when it came to books, because you were the type to want to learn-- unlike others.

when you were in your teen years, you had tabs on you and the media on you 24/7 to make sure you didn’t royally fuck up. the unwanted attention became too much when you started realizing that people didn’t want you for your personality, they wanted you for your title. but this was after you moved from brooklyn. nuvale and peter never saw you as some “movie star”, or some famous person in the media because you weren’t. but when you had grown to learn what your father did, he had forced you to not fuck up to maintain his-- somewhat okay reputation. 

you always wanted that superstar life, as a fantasy of course, but when you got to it, you realized the cliche-y-ness of it all. you’d idolized the famous women in the media-- idolized how they looked like. you realized fairly quick how fucked up the media truly is. you realized how things really aren’t as they seem. its not just the galas that look extravagant, or getting to wear a fancy new gucci outfit every night. it honestly was a whole bunch of other shit you wouldn’t even imagine. it comes with the no privacy thing- people stalking you in public, the death threats, so much shit that wouldn’t happen as common if you were just anonymous.

being an avenger (basically), your dad had natasha teach you the ropes; the basic rules of how to kick someones ass. it was a handbook that the women of the avengers had created, and it had all the rules and regulations of how to spar someone on the team, and basically how to righteously beat someone's ass up. it was never really something you found too important, but as you grew older, you realized that it was very important to know, especially since you were a girl.

despite your harsh remarks and snarky attitude, your father always knew how to hit a sensitive point in you that always managed to break you down. you never quite understood why he would want to make you feel worse about yourself than you already felt, but regardless, you always felt underappreciated by him. being a stark, you were expected to be a genius, get over the top grades, and constantly be able to keep up, but with your luck, you were graced with depression, social anxiety, and a 4.0 gpa. fun, right? 

wrong.

when you were 11, you had made friends with the kids in your apartment halls, and you learned that their names were nuvale jones and peter parker, and you were basically the golden trio. you were hermione, peter was ron, and nuvale was harry. which, now that you look back at it, makes much more sense than any other arrangement. you also had another friend, harry osborn, but once he moved away, there was no way for you to talk to him anymore. he had moved across the country to california, and from then, it was just you, peter, and nuvale. your best friends ha been there for you for what seemed like decades, although you only knew them for about three.

peter was the boy with the rosy cheeks who little 12 year old you would get butterflies in her tummy. or the type of boy to bring you an extra snack if you weren’t able to pack it the night before. he was the type of boy to walk you to the nurses office if you got hit with a dodgeball. he was the type of boy to fall for someone like you. but he didn’t. or so you thought. 

little prebubescent y/n was an awkward girl who thought the world would be on her side when she needed it the most, or that whenever you needed peter or nuva, they would be there. you didn’t think your best friend would stop talking to you after you had moved away. you were too naive to know that peter liked you, and you were too naive to know that he had liked you back, but you wanted to believe what your brain would tell you, so you decided to flush your feelings down the drain and forget about them, which, in hindsight, was a pretty shitty idea. who would’ve known?

your alarm clock blared loudly from beside you, causing you to let out a loud groan in protest. you hit the side of your head angrily, then whining and rubbing the spot which you hit. whines and loud sighs fell from your lips as you rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pulled the covers over your head, knowing what would come next after you would try to snooze your alarm.

“good morning, miss stark, how could i be of service to you this morning?” friday’s voice echoed through your large bedroom. you peaked your eyes and forehead from beneath the covers, your eyes slowly starting to adjust to the light that was pulled through the big blinds which were now open. 

“mmm, fri, just tell happy to get the car ready, ill be ready in a few min- nevermind, tell him to get ready in thirty, im probably gonna fall asleep in the shower.” you croaked, taking your phone from the charger which was on your nightstand. you slipped on your bunny slippers and turned on the heater in your room, the draft filling your room with cold air throughout the night.

-------

once you walked through the large industrial doors of midtown’s cafeteria, everyones voices started to drop into sharp hushed whispers, making you roll your eyes and pull your hood up over your face. you pulled your airpods from your pockets into your ears and tried your best to avoid any and all eye contact with anyone you did end up coming into contact with. you walked over to the food bar where you grabbed a red school tray and plastered on your best smile to the lunch ladies who work oh so hard to make sure you all were fed. as you walked through the line, you could feel the intensified stares on you, making your back erupt in chills. you didn’t like to be watched, and the fact that you were a so-called celebrity didn’t help your cause in any way. 

“hey.” a low voice called from behind you. it was a girl with curly hair with gorgeous light brown skin, and a jawline that would cut you. you were almost astonished by her beauty, but you remembered the facade you had to hold, especially to strangers that you didn’t know.

“hey?” you asked unsurely, wondering if she was with the media or not. which was something that tended to happen quite a bit.

“don’t worry, i’m not with the press. you just seem interesting.” she said in a monotone voice, but still with a strong look of seriousness on her face. you giggled softly when your eyes locked and your faces went totally still, making the girl in front of you laugh as well. she held out her hand in front of you, while also balancing her tray and book in the other hand. you placed yours into hers and shook it, smiling when she told you her name.

“michelle jones.” she smiled, your throat getting a little tight at her last name, and you had to admit that it struck a little chord within you, but you quickly cleared it from your thoughts and introduced yourself as well.

“y/n stark. pleasure to meet you, jones.”

“pleasure to meet you too.”

“so, i get that you’re new here,” she started walking, inviting you to walk along with her. “what- what are you doing here? i mean i get you’re smart and all, but this is a nerd school; you literally could’ve gone anywhere, so, might i ask, why here?”

“hm, interesting question. seriously i don’t know. my dad and i don’t really get along so he makes the decisions and i tell him if i like it or not. which by the way, i’m gonna have to stay near you-- you’re the only one making this bearable for me right now.” you snorted, nudging your elbow to hers. 

“hm, daddy issues. great song, love the artists.” she smirked, making you shoot your head back in loud laughter, gaining some side eyed glances from a few people sitting at the tables around you.

“so, where are we sitting? i usually nev-”

“hey mj!” you were interrupted by a boyish laugh and hoots and hollers coming from a table two tables ahead of you. 

“jesus fucking christ. what? just because i got some and you didn’t doesn’t mean that you have to be that fuckin’ loud about it.” she grumbled, placing her tray down, slinging the backpack on her right shoulder beside her. you looked at her with a nervous but curious glint in your eyes. she gave you a knowing look which said, ‘just go with what i say’, making you nod in understanding.

“woah! holy shit! i m- i mean woah- nice to- nice to meet you!” the boy fumbled over his words, looking at you and michelle in disbelief, shaking his friends shoulder and poking at his cheek.

“nice cut, g. looks nice.” you said to him, giggling as you stuck your straw into the mini juice box.

“o-oh, thanks… g?” he said back to you, observing your looks with a confused expression written on his face making you giggle at his confusion. 

“peter! look! y/n stark is at our table!” he whisper shouted to his friend, making you look at michelle with a smile on your face and playfully rolling your eyes. she looked back at you, rolling her eyes as well, gesturing to her head as if saying ‘idiots’, making you giggle and turn back to them. 

“so, bowl cut dude, what’s your name?” you nodded to him, picking at your salad with the blac spork that was so cordially given to you by mj. 

“n-ned, ned leeds.” he smiled sheepishly.

“and you, colonizer, what’s your name?” you tapped on the table, alerting the boys attention. you could hear michelle and ned hollering and snickering from their seats, but decided to keep your poker face rolling. but i mean, how couldn’t you? the look on his face was absolutely priceless. 

“peter park- wait did you just call me a colonizer?” he cut himself off in his own sentence, looking at his other friends for confirmation, to which they nodded, still cackling at the fact that you had indeed call him a colonizer.

“peter park, hm?” you teased, ignoring the way you hesitated and ignoring the way your chest felt heavy when the name of peter was said.

“n-no thats not my name-” he said, tripping over his words, making you let out a chuckle. 

“i’m messing with you. with what you’ve given me, i could only guess your name is peter parker?” you rested your chin on your hand, engaging in the awkward conversation.

“yeah. thats my name.” he said more confidently, giving you a tight lipped smile.

“nice to meet you, parker.”

“you too, stark, my pleasure.”

----

after the small encounter with your new found friends, you had gone back to your respective classes, which meant that your next class had peter in it. after you had split up, you decided to get there early to avoid any commotion surrounding you.

as the boring class continued, you heard the loud clicking of high heels in the hallways, which had to be one person and one person only.

“stark,” someone shouted from the door which swung open. low and behold, in front of you was the prickly bitch, your principal, mrs cunningham. “come with me, eugene’s parents have requested a meeting with you and your father considering that you had just hit their son in the private areas!” everyone snickered and laughed. finally someone had stood up to flash’s shit. 

“y- you punched flash in the nuts? i thought that was just a rumor?” peter stuttered, looking at you in disbelief.

“yeah, the fuck was i gonna do? let him flirt with me? no. that bitch tried to grab my ass. i’m a stark, i was raised better than that.” you whispered to him, packing your bag as you did so.

“hm, guess you’re right. well, good luck stark.” 

“thanks parker.”

--------

once you arrived in the principals office, you saw what seemed to be his mother in one of the seats decked out in expensive pearls and diamonds. typical.

“little miss over here punched my son in the privates! i will not allow this to happen!” fuck. you thought; another one of those stuck up cunty parents.

“pfft, probably paid to get their son into here.” you muttered under your breath, playing with your protection bracelets incase anything was to ever happen.

“wHAT? mrs cunningham, i will not allow this child to talk about my son this wa-”

“hello! i was called in?” a voice interrupted, one you could only peg as your father.

“ahh! mr stark! you’re finally here!” your hilarious excuse as a principal said cheerfully.

“i am! and i am here to.. come and have a meeting about my daughter's- behavior?” he asked questiongly, already seeing the triumphant and cocky look on your face. he knew you weren’t at fault, and you were gonna lie your pretty ass out of it.

“well, mr stark, we have a student in the nurses room due to the actions of your daughter!” she looked at him menacingly. he shook his head with a smile on his face and walked over to you, grasping your shoulders in his hands.

“well kiddo, wanna explain what and why you did what you did?” he smiled, giving you two taps on your shoulder, already knowing what was next. you two had a pretty good acting schedule when it came to it, when in reality, you despised eachother.

“sure daddy! eugene had been hitting on me for several days now, and even found my private social medias in use to.. how can i say this, use me for my fame? he tried talking to me, very inappropriately on several occasions, and even went as far as to try and grab me in areas in which i find extremely inappropriate, without my consent, might i add, which doesn’t seem okay with me. does it seem exceptional to you, mrs thompson?” you asked, while only keeping your eyes on his mother.

“why, i am so sorry miss stark! his father will be in contact, i did not raise my baby to be this way! im sorry for any inconvenience he may have caused you!” she gasped, raising a hand to her heart. 

“it’s okay, i just request, may this never happen again? i would not like my privacy to be invaded, much less from your son, and can i please ask that he never try to hit on me, nor any girls at this school ever again? i can only imagine how many other girls this may have happened to, mrs thompson.” you sighed, your eyes filling up with fake tears. you reached up to touch your fathers hand, tapping it twice back, knowing that you both had just won.

“never again miss stark, once again, i am so sorry this happened to you.” 

“it’s okay. now mrs cunningham, shall we see our way out?” your father answered for you, looking over at the old white woman who looked like a piece of cheese. she could only nod in awe, giving you the cue to pick up your bags and walk proudly to the door.

“thanks i guess.” you muttered, pulling out your airpods once more, hoping to seal the conversation with your father.

“yeah yeah, no problemo.” he muttered back, avoiding eye contact and stuffing his hands in his  pockets. 

once you reached the door, you remembered that you had left something in your locker, and informed your dad that you’d be going back to get it. he all but nodded and looked back at his shoes before trudging to the car.

once you entered the seemingly halls, much to your surprise, you saw a scrawny teenage boy lifting open a set of lockers, which you didn’t even know was possible, and pulling out a red and blue suit. once you saw who the hands belonged to, your mouth fell agape as you gasped,

“peter?”

[atendersun-archived]

Who are some of Muu's closest friends? And does he mind to be friends with kids, old people? Neither gender is not an issue for friendships?

For simplicity reasons, I'm breaking this down into different points:

Muu's main goal in life is to experience having friendships (and even romantic relationships as well) that are built on a strong foundation between both parties it includes. Although he may be the type of person that needs to be explained the same thing over, and over again until it reaches a point in which it is more frustrating than anything else, he is not so dense that he is oblivious to the fact that he isn't exactly ideal friendship material. He's not really great at making other people around him aware of the fact that he deeply cares about them, since he seems too interested in talking about himself than hearing about anyone else, his interests are not incredibly age appropriate or all that interesting, s, and he is far more sensitive than what is probably necessary for a twenty four year old man. With all of that being said, however, he is so self aware of the downfall of his differences that he wants more than anything to give everyone a chance at being his friend as a way of bettering his odds of finding people that will actually have the patience and willingness to keep him around.

With that being said, anyone and everyone is indiscriminately treated by him as someone he is eager to get to know and get to like him. Age, gender, sexuality, socioeconomic status, etc. None of it particularly matters to him just as long as he either receives kindness from them to some extent, or he THINKS he can earn said kindness by pleasing them in some way. This has understandably led to a lot of toxic friendships in which the other party has made it clear they want nothing to do with him, or they make it abundantly clear that they are only utilizing him for some sort of manipulative gain, and yet he knows there is still some chances that he might repeat those behaviors. Something he's learned from spending too much of his free time on Tiktok, though, is that the anxiousness that presents itself with attempting to receive something other than neglect or abuse from someone that will never give any proper praise is addicting to the brain. That it begins to feed off of the fear and uncertainty in those moments so frequently that it begins to crave it. In a way, he knows that is why he tends to find himself placing himself into purposefully dangerous situations, or back into the company of people he knows won't truly respect him as a person. It is because not only does he subconsciously feel that negative attention such as that might be the only thing he truly deserves to have instead of selfishly asking for unconditional love instead, but also because he thrives off of the abuse in some way. Lately though, however, he really has made nothing but really wonderful friendships with people that have made it very clear that they genuinely enjoy his company, and want what is best for him, so it has really been a challenge in rewiring his brain to expect that condition of living instead of slipping into a state of survival mode that can make or break how he is treated that day.

In the past, Muu would have definitely stated that he preferred male friendships on the basis of having someone he could turn to for protection and security as someone that wasn't particularly very strong physically and emotionally. As time shifted to places in which that security and protection was not offered to him, or was overstepped completely when placed into very dangerous circumstances involving himself and another man, Muu found himself gravitating more towards women. To him, they are safer company. They tend to respond to his emotional needs in a way that is more caring instead of belittling him, or responding aggressively. Also, even though a lot of his friendships with women typically cross a line into something more than friends with the addition of sexual intimacy, he has not felt an underlying sense of predatory behavior like he has with some of the men he claimed to be his friends in the past.

Trigger warning for the information ahead. Basically, the most condensed version of the answer to male vs female friends that I can offer to old & new muns alike is: Muu doesn't have the same experience of being able to state that he's been consistently emotionally, verbally, physically, and even sexually abused by female friends as he can with the men he admired to the point he blindly trusted them through some really difficult times, so, therefore, he just generally feels safer around women more than men. He's really trying to work through that though, and bring himself to a point in which he can really let go of all of that in favor of having the strong male friendships he always wished to have growing up.

I am basically just rattling off names at this point. I am sure I can locate more as well, but it is getting late here so who I am able to think of at this hour is under the cut:

Adrian and Gael of @romantxcxsm quickly come to mind because both have, right from the gate, been nothing but genuinely very kind to him. Muu assumed to really only consider Gael as a threat in the sense of having to fight him as an act of making himself the most dominant person the room from taking down the biggest guy he saw, but he never anticipated him and Adrian actually being the most emotionally intuitive people he's ever met. Muu could probably listen to Adrian just chatter on about being this seemingly extroverted person who takes people in on a whim without a second guess for hours. Same as he could just stare at Gael in knowing that even though they only seem like a tall, quiet to the point of almost being mysterious, they actually very sweet and sensitive underneath that exterior.

Hannah @kannojo. aka his wife at this point. This woman right here is his absolute ride or die. She's put up with his ass since they were just teenagers that got into petty fights that he always started. At any point, she could have easily beat his him to a pulp, but she didn't. Instead, she fell for him against all the odds. For her to hold out for him to stop talking about men that struggled to even provide him the bare minimum in a relationship is astonishing. Out of everyone he's essentially knew since he was sixteen up until now, she has been the person he could always go to no matter what. When day after day he faced an absurd amount of ridicule from people in his social circle that berated him and beat him over him being himself, and for wanting to be their friend regardless of it all, it was Hannah he could go to when he needed some to cry to. Her love has carried over from the time he was an annoying young man that was only obsessed with boys and himself, over to when he was so down and depressed that he believed he had no worth as a person based on how others were treating him, and it still exists today as a very queer man just trying to work through an asinine amount of trauma. that's his lady right here ♡ fucking hetereos

Neff @cosmicstardreamer This lady is too all knowing that it baffles him how quickly she can figure things out about him before he can even say it himself. Never would he have guessed for them to become so connected so quickly that he can basically safely tell her anything. Aside from Hannah, who was always just an arm's length away from him telling her everything as it was happening, Neff is still the only one of a few people that know the existence of the assaults he has endured, even if she may not know the specifics of them. While he can not explain it in words, there is at least a particular feeling that he experiences in her company that he feels very rarely in the company of other people. And, to him, that feeling is of completely safety. While she might be off the hook of having to hear him go on about his ex every five minutes, she is unfortunately not out of bounds of having to hear him chatter on about how Tiktok has made him want to learn how to read tarot cards.

Hisao @angstiism. He can't quite put his finger on it, but there is something about the anxiousness that has kept him drawn to him throughout the entirety of them knowing each other. There has been a shift in their relationship as friends, though, as in the past Muu actually looked to the younger male as if the roles were reversed. Almost as though he was seeking safety in them as he saw Hisao as someone very mature and more understanding of things than maybe he felt his other friends were. Nowadays, though, he just keeps trying to make sure Hisao knows that he is the one being taken care of now. Hisao was also someone present in his life when shit was DARK so he has that to navigate as an adult male trying to move beyond a lot of it. Trigger warning again: Though he might have no intention of actually verbally acknowledging it at where they stand as mature adults, having that one friend to show and discuss the children's books on the topic of sexual abuse during a time when he was so very concerned with / very much so craving validation on whether or not being molested in his late, late teens was his fault. It is a memory he holds very dear to himself within the confines of his own heart.

Pchan @nvrcmplt. This right here is his alien. Muu has always found him to be interesting on behalf of the fact that he was sure he had never met an alien before he met this one. Surprisingly, he has never really taken too much of an interest in finding out more about the exact species and abilities the extraterrestrial as up until maybe recently. He's kind of vaguely known them to have something to do with sex as he's been aware of the kinds of friendships and interactions the other has, but since he himself has very conflicting opinions on sex he really never opts to dive deep into learning more about how something unhuman experiences coitus. Now that their friendship has moved well beyond teenager / young man and his alien buddy to an adult man finally taking the time to actually get to know his friend in ways that don't feel as though they underlyingly childish, he feels almost like a whole new sensation when in the company of the alien. He would describe it as wonder mixed in with comfort. As in he is more apt to actually effectively comprehend experiences the alien has had that make up their personality as being something other than "that's my alien friend. he has lots of sex and is nice to me". Also, Muu has no apologizes for trying to beat up Sergio on Pchan's behalf, even if he didn't actually know the circumstances behind the man informing him that he'd hurt his friend to begin with. He'd gladly attempt to bite that bastard again if given the opportunity.

THERE'S SO MANY AAAAAAAAAAA

Yukio and Kuen of @silvxcs even if he thinks they are buttholes sometimes. Kuen with his inability to communicate effectively and always falling asleep while he is talking to him lol. And Yukio for somehow flipping the script on him and becoming more like a caretaker than he ever anticipated. Also because he specifically paid this man to tell Akatsuki to tell him that he's proud of him while possibly holding him for a moment. He had not paid the other male to rat him out and inform Akatsuki of his concerns about the older male being mad at him. Muu still thinks he is stinky for that.

There is Sully @tximidity and Alex @dis--parity. One he may have known for a long, long time to the point of recalling who they were prior to transitioning, while the other is a new face for him, but he both loves them very dearly. Mainly because both Sully and Alex are soft individuals that have been put through the wringer, and therefore he can talk to them about difficult conversations that he would be concerned going to anyone else about. Alex, for example, is someone he can go to and either talk or listen to gender related issues without any concerns. Sully, on the other hand, he finds interesting in the sense of they are this enigma of manhood like himself even if it is in different ways. Also, Sully is basically required to be his friend at this point because he won't let someone who witnessed him cry about skin cells get away so easily.

he love the muppet @goneborne, shinya is his snuggle buddy and he is not taking no for an answer @floriogrxphy, nich @bclasaeg is a meanie that has a crush on him but wont let him see his boy boobs the same way muu flashed his without any concern. god he really values so many of his friendships with people that i can't fit them all here even though i want to so bad

basically everyone that works at Komachi @welivetoserve is unfortunately trapped into being friends with him, but he has his blatant favorites. In the event he is ever in a life threatening situation where he is only given one phone call to make, he has already decided on Ayumu. That one is very nice, so he likes that one. We all know who the absolute favorite within any association to the club is because he never shuts the fuck up about him, but that sucks on account that I would rather mention how Muu will never not get a kick out of being a tiny bit mean to Mamoru as a means of establishing dominance over the man that could very well just ban him at any moment.

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #351

“the writing on the wall  /  a psalm of napalm  /  abandon all hope, but try to stay calm”

Do you have bad posture? Oh yeah. Are your eyes sensitive to sunlight? VERY. How many miles can you run without stopping? An astonishing zero miles. Who is the most attractive person you know personally? My high school friend Alon, probably. Have you ever dated someone who was very vastly different from your “type”? No. When was the first time you said "I love you" to a significant other? When I dated my first real boyfriend Jason at 16. I actually said it very early in because I thought I was "supposed" to, and I did REALLY like him. How old were you when you first lived alone? If you’ve never lived alone, how old do you think you’ll be? I haven't yet, and idk. What do you wish you had been better prepared for? Ha, adulthood. Is there anything about you (physically) that you think turns people off of you right off the bat? My weight. Do you know anyone with a semicolon tattoo? I have a semicolon butterfly tattoo on my wrist, and while it's very subtle, my Mark tat features a semicolon, too. It's outlined by a quote he's said ("you are important, never forget that"), and the "i" is a semicolon. Idk if I know anyone else with one. Have you ever overdosed on a drug? Once accidentally, once purposefully. Have you ever kissed a guy you didn’t want to kiss? Yes. Who was the last guy you cuddled with? Girt. What is something you’ve had a toxic reaction to? The breakup with Jason. In the last picture taken of you, how did you pose? I just tilted my head, smiled, and gave a peace sign, haha. Mom wanted to show my sister how I looked with a dozen wires and other shit attached to me for my sleep study. Have you ever made a fake Facebook account? If so, why? No. If you were an Eevee, what would you wanna evolve into? Probably Espeon? They're so, so majestic and beautiful. I'd love to feel like that, lol. What flavor was the last piece of gum you chewed? Raspberry lemonade. Did you ever used to watch the show Teen Titans? Nah. When you were in school/if you are in school, do you actually share your grades with your parents? If you got/get a bad grade, do you hide it from them? My mom always stayed up-to-date with my grades. I never really had anything to hide. Have you ever been the designated driver? Once or twice, yeah. Were you obsessed with Webkinz when they first came out? "Obsessed" is an understatement. I was that kid with dozens upon dozens. They were pretty much my favorite thing. Who do you subscribe to on YouTube, if anybody? Oh Jesus, looooots. Are you wearing nail polish right now? What color? No. Neon colors, or pastel? Pastel. Are you currently pregnant? Do you wish you were/weren’t? I'm not and have zero desire to be. Have you ever had a dog? A good number of them throughout my life. Is there any drama going on right now in your life? No. Does your hair fall out a lot? No. What’s your favourite type of bird? Barn owls. I also love ravens and crows. How many friends do you have on Facebook? 126. What was on the last sandwich you ate? Pb&j. What sort of music did you listen to when you were in high school? The same as I do now: metal and its various subgenres. Have you ever gotten back together with an ex? No. How far away is the closest store to your house and what is it? I'm actually unsure which is the closest. We live in a cul-de-sac with a bunch of houses, and the street opens into just outside the main city, so there's a lot of stores. What is your favourite Thai dish? I've actually never tried Thai food. How many contacts do you have in your phone? Very few, but I don't feel like counting. Are there any candles in your bedroom, and what scent are they? No. What pet names do you use with your significant other? I'm single. Do you have to wear a name badge where you work? I don’t have a job. Can you hear anything right now? Yeah, I'm watching Gab Smolders play Skyrim. It's a game I've always wanted to play myself. Is there anybody else in the room you’re currently in? No. What’s the name of the store you usually get your groceries? Walmart. Does your house have a porch/balcony? It has a very, very small porch. What is your mother’s first name? Donna. Did you have a tree house as a kid? No. Are you afraid of speaking to large audiences? I'm terrified of it. Have you ever cried from being so mad? Oh yeah, it's very common for me to cry when I'm mad. Have you ever taken a bath with someone? As a kid, yes. Do you have any brothers? One older one. Does your family use coasters? Is anyone in your family excessively tidy? No. Do you wear pajamas to places other than at your house? Ha, yeah, just depends on where. Do you take showers in the morning or at night more? Morning. I used to be ALL about night showers, but I just love how refreshing they are in the morning. It's a good start to the day. Do you snore? Steal the covers? Roll around in your sleep? I steal the covers SO bad and roll around a lot. God bless whoever marries me. You see the person you fell hardest for. What do you do? I can guarantee I'd be a total deer in headlights and probably tear up or just straight-up cry. Have you been/are you depressed? It's nowhere near as bad as it was once upon a time, but I honestly am depressed these days. Who is the one person you can completely be yourself around? I only feel entirely "safe" doing that around Sara. Are your popups blocked on your computer? Yeah. Are your parents night owls or morning birds? My mom's a total night owl. She absolutely hates sleeping because it's "such a waste of time" to her, but of course she does it anyway. I haven't lived with my father since I was like 16, so idk what he's really like with this stuff now, but I'd call him an early bird, particularly because his job has him up early anyway. Do you have high blood pressure? No; my blood pressure is actually extremely low, so much so it scares every doctor who hasn't treated me before. It's a medication side effect and seriously sucks, because I am absolutely always light-headed and dizzy. Have you ever pumped gas? No. Are you affectionate? Very. What would a perfect yard look like for you? Hmmm... I'm going to include things I know I won't realistically have for maintenance reasons, but what's ideal. I would loooove love love at least one really big tree with maybe a birdhouse and like a bat box (is that what they're called?), and I'd love tons and tons of flowers to feed bees and other wildlife. A koi pond would be amazing, but that's one of those things I know I won't actually have. A pool would be really nice, preferably inground, and having a spot in the shade would be perfect. Some berry bushes would be cool, and grape vines... Man, I'm really fantasizing now, haha. What is a topic that you have just recently become interested in? Nothing very recently, but I'd say the most recent would be uhhhh tarantulas, though that's been a thing for many months now. What is a feel-good song that you’ve been listening to lately? None lately, anyway. I can tell you "Jump" by Van Halen is the staple "feel-good" song for me, though. What are some things you enjoy seeing pictures of? Meerkats... Mark... more meerkats and Mark... oh also meerkats and Mark... Is there anything you are scared/awkward about talking about in life? Don't talk to me about sex. Has a pet ever stolen food from you as you were eating it? AS I was eating it, no. What is the weirdest compliment you have ever been given? I have no idea. What’s stronger - your upper or lower body? Jesus, I couldn't tell you. I'm just weak, period. Women tend to have more lower body strength, so I GUESS maybe that, but given the fact my legs are horribly weak, I don't know. My arms aren't strong, either. Are you very careful with your technology (phone, laptop, etc) or do you take risks that could damage them? I try to be mindful and careful, but you could say the way I pick up my laptop sometimes is risky. Have you ever been in the newspaper? What for? I think so, as part of my graduating class? But that would be a LOT of people... so I actually don't know. I have this faint memory of being in it with other people, but idr. Would you say that the area you live in is particularly picturesque? Ew, no. What is your favorite type of cat? One does not simply pick ONE favorite kind of cat. I love Persians, Ragdolls, Siamese, sphynxes, bengals, Abyssinians, and I could go on and on. If you had your way, what color(s) would you dye your hair? I have A LOT of colors I want to dye my hair, but the ones I'm currently most interested in are pastel pink, creamsicle orange, and lilac. Do you like seafood? If so, what is your favorite? If not, what is your favorite type of food? I only like shrimp. What religion/spiritual path intrigues you the most, if any? Paganism. It's the one I think is closest to what I believe in, and I just find it all very interesting. I love the nature focus. Would you ever consider getting dreadlocks? Nooooo. How many times is your cartilage pierced in your ears? None anymore. :( I miss all my piercings that closed while hospitalized. Have you ever had a pet bird? Nah. It'd be cool, but I don't want one enough to actually get one. Do you like dinosaurs? I looooove dinos. They were my obsession as a kid. My first dream career was even a paleontologist. Do you like going for long walks with friends? If my legs worked like a healthy fucking human's, I would love to do that again. I would literally collapse if I tried to go on a long walk now. Do you miss anyone from school? I miss a lot of people from school. I'm thankful for Facebook for that, but even that's not enough, really. What is your favorite flavor of Jolly Ranchers? Watermelon, I think? Was there a strawberry one? How are your parents right now? I'm assuming Dad's fine, and Mom's okay, just stressed as she always is. Can you take naps, or does it make you feel horrible? Man, I love naps. They're like, mandatory for my existence, lol. If you celebrate Christmas, do you get a real tree or an artificial tree? A fake one. Have you ever been told you were a good writer? Yeah. Do you watch music videos? No. Do you own an account on Club Penguin? Haha awww, remember the worldwide heartbreak when that site shut down? Anyway, I did as a kid. Do you like lemonade? Sure do. Was your first kiss perfect? To me it was. How do you feel about the first person you kissed? I feel a lot of things about him. As of right now, how do you feel about your future? Nervous. Who is the last person you ran into unexpectedly? *shrugs* Is sex something special, or just for fun? It has to be something special for me personally. Do you follow fashion? If so, why? Not at all. Have you ever played a real pinball machine? No. Do you like the smell of BBQs? I love the smell, but don't like the food. Do wasps scare you? Yes. Are you currently trying to get over someone? I mean, yes and no. I don't think I'll ever be fully over Jason, but I feel like I'm as "over him" as I'll ever be, maybe. I hope I can even further let him go, but we'll just have to see. Have you ever dated someone with longer hair than yours? Yes. Have you ever worn flip flops in the snow? HA, oh yeah. If it's only a dusting, I don't care at all. I pretty much always wear flip flops. How old were you when you met your first love? I was 15. If you could have one more pet, what? JUST one? Probably a Brazilian Black tarantula, ideally. I technically want a western hognose snake more, but given I already have a snake, in this hypothetical situation, I'd take the spider. Would you rather have an owl or a snake? Ha, speaking of snakes. A snake, even though I adore owls. What do you order at Chic-Fil-A? I don't give my business to Chick-fil-A. They're reigned by homophobic, transphobic pieces of shit that have given monetary contributions to anti-LGBT foundations, including most disgustingly those that support conversion therapy. I admittedly looooove their chicken sandwiches, but I just can't in good conscience go there. Have you ever been addicted to cigarettes? No, given I've never smoked and will never. Which do you use more? Facebook or Instagram? Facebook. Did you enjoy your past relationships? Yeah. Do you like '80s music? '80s metal is great. Something you would NEVER buy? Drugs. Have you ever questioned your sexuality? I first questioned if I was bisexual in middle school, 8th grade I think, but I went into denial about it given I was Christian at the time. Looking back, there were many clear signs of me liking girls too, I just didn't notice them until a few years ago when I came out as bi. Do you like Star Wars? No. What is the best thing about life? Experiencing love, both platonic and romantic. Are you superstitious? No. What show/concert have you gone to that you didn’t like much? I haven't experienced a bad concert before, but then again I've only been to one. Is sex a must in your life? Nah. Have you watched porn alone before? I've never watched porn period. I have absolutely no desire to watch two random people go at each other. What do you think about weed? It should be legal everywhere, but treated similarly to alcohol in that there are legal repercussions to doing certain things, like driving, under the influence. There are just too many benefits for many health conditions to ignore. Have you read the entire Bible before? No. I've started to before, but I didn't get far.