#but I've been saying that to myself for four days and haven't found the energy to journal yet and I am shaking apart at the seams so

[bee-a-ts]

I've not made a secret of having an absolutely awful week. I've tried not to trauma dump unprompted, either, so I've kept it vague, but in addition to the occasional tumblr post I've reached out to irl friends with statements on the theme. Some friends, and statements, repeatedly. Which isn't like me - I'm normally forthcoming with my stress when it's relatively minor. Or I'll say it once and leave it be. But I'm drowning right now and so I keep reaching out.

And no one. Not a single one of these good friends. Has done so much as said, "I'm sorry, I'm here for you," or asked more questions, or checked in, or, hell, sent a silly picture to try and cheer me up. It's like pulling teeth to get a response at all. It's always me reaching out first - how was your birthday, how was your move, how are you feeling, how was so and sos visit? Here, have a meme that made me think of you, here's a song that made me think of you, here's a picture of the sky in Seattle today, and on and on.

Is it unrealistic to expect a base level of reciprocal caring from close friends?? I know I can always be direct - "I need you to talk first, check in, think of me when I'm having a hard time" - but a, it takes the value out of it for me to have the only times I'm cared for be in response to a direct ask; and b, I have done that before. It's clearly not stuck.

I'm just - gods, I'm frustrated and angry and so goddamn sad. This is my life. I live alone. I do not have a partner, and probably never will. I need my friends, because I literally do not have a different support option. And it's been like this all month, sending message after message to the void for all the response I'm liable to get.

All that to say, I forgot to add kale to my Jamba Juice smoothie delivery this morning and had a fucking breakdown about it when I realized, because it was too sweet and without a vegetable I can't justify eating it so the whole thing will go in the trash. Thankfully, I found some spinach in the freezer and salvaged the situation. But it's so clear to me I'm taking out the stress of this month on my body.

Yesterday the only food I ate and kept down was a pastry and some carrots and seaweed during DnD. I had a banana and donut that morning, but I made myself throw it up.

I've been taking too hot showers trying to burn myself, and too cold showers when that doesn't work to try and make myself cry it out. I am constantly thinking about all the destructive habits I've used in the past and trying to redirect them, but a rubber band on the wrist only goes so far.

I'm exhausted and while this week really took the cake in terms of Extra Bullshit, the intense stress has been going on for two months now and it's looking like another two months of this at least. I don't know what I'm going to do. Probably keep hating myself and my body and coping poorly, if I'm honest. It's not like I'm actively suicidal - I'm not going anywhere. I'm just-

Fuck it, I don't know. Who cares anyway. Clearly. I'll be fine eventually, I always am. I'm used to being the only person taking care of myself.

I'll probably delete this later anyway.

[slasher-male-wife]

To, I was wondering if you could write a FTM reader x Rick grimes where the reader is really exhausted and depressed and doesn't have motivation for anything and Rick helps him?

I'd love to write this for you. I haven't been watching TWD as much recently so forgive me if this is out of character. I'm also still on season three. But I love writing gay things for y'all. This is also set in the after the prison and in a random location because I don't know where they went after that lol even though I'm decently into season four. Can be read as romantic or platonic.

I do care: Rick Grimes x ftm reader

Warnings: Vague descriptions of readers body, mention of top surgery scars, depressed reader, Rick tries his best, Rick helps reader shower in a non-sexual way

It's been becoming clearer and clearer that you're not doing well mentally. A month ago you were barely able to help out around camp, but now all you can manage to do is stay in bed, and maybe go to the bathroom if you can gather enough energy. Now that you're staying at a farm house it's very clear you're not doing well.

Rick noticed how you've been declining mentally over the past month. When he was a cop he had to do wellness checks and he can see those symptoms in you too. So when he got up extra early one day and found you still awake he knew he had to do something to help you. He pushes your 'bedroom' door open further and walks in.

"Hey uh Y/N. I need to talk to you," He says. You look over at him from where you're laying but you can't bring yourself to sit up, "I've noticed you've been acting like this for awhile and I wanted to know what's going on," Rick takes a seat by your bed and looks up at you, "Is it that uh, feeling you get sometimes where you don't feel man enough?" You'd laugh at his words if you weren't so exhausted.

"I feel man enough Rick. I just can't get myself out of bed right now. If you want to feed me to the walker outside go ahead." You mumble. Rick stiffens and quickly gets closer to you.

"I'd never do that. I'd also never let you die on my watch. Has someone suggested that's gonna happen to you?" He asks, his tone coming off more aggressive than it is comforting. You shake your head.

"No one said that to me. But I know y'all are thinking about it. I mean why not. I'm a burden right now anyway. Why not do it?" Rick runs a hand over his mouth and sighs.

"I'm not going to let you die. I'm also not going to let you waste away in bed anymore. When was the last time you showered?" He asks, his tone still more aggressive than it is comforting. You shrug.

"I don't know, probably a few weeks ago," You say. Rick stands up and holds out his hand for you, "You're trying to get me to shower?" You ask, looking up at him.

"I'm going to make you shower, even if I have to stand behind you and keep you upright. Now make this easy on me." You sigh and slowly sit up. Rick watches carefully and makes sure once you're up, you'll stay up. Once you're sitting up, Rick pulls you up to your feet and lets you lean against him as he walks you to the bathroom.

"Rick we need to save the water we have. I know there's that well pump outside but showering shouldn't take priority." You say and he sits you down on the sink counter.

"I want you to shower because you're starting to smell like a damn walker. Doesn't help you have all that dried blood on you." He says. You sigh in defeat.

"Fine. If you insist on getting me clean I'll shower." You say. Rick smiles and grabs some soap and turns on the shower head. You take off your shirt and start to undo your pants. You notice Rick staring at your top surgery scars.

"I told you about them before Rick. They're just surgery scars," You say, slipping off your shoes and pants. You feel the water and quickly tell you can't wash your body fully. You look back to Rick and he seems to understand what's going on, "Can you help me?"

"Of course I can. Just tell me where I should wash." He says, taking his shirt off and tossing it aside to keep it dry. You slip off your boxers and manage to keep yourself standing.

"Upper body is fine. I can do my lower half if you help me stand," You hold your arms up and stand under the water, letting it wash over your hair and body. Rick starts to wash the soap over your arms, avoiding looking down at you, "You don't have to try to hard to ignore my body. I've already done enough of that for a lifetime." You chuckle. Rick smiles slightly and moves over to your other arm.

He washes over the rest of your upper body, being more careful around your scars, making you chuckle again. He eventually hands you the soap and hold one of your hands.

"I'll uh, help you stay standing." He says, looking away from you as you start to wash off your lower half. Rick keeps his eyes off of you the entire time until you turn off the water. He hands you a towel and you wrap it around your hips.

"Thank you Rick. Now I can go sit in my bed again but this time I'll be clean." You joke.

"No. I actually wanted to take you to go eat something since you haven't been eating much at all." He says. Still holding your hand he walks you back into a bedroom and starts digging through some clothes.

"I thought me not eating was a good thing. We need to ration some food." You say, taking some boxers Rick hands you.

"Carl and Deshawn went out and got more food. Enough for you to eat a small meal. Don't fight me on this or I will force feed you." He says in the tone of a joke, but there's an air of seriousness to it. He hands you some jeans and you put them on too.

"You're really set on me not dying huh?" You joke back as Rick hands you more clothes. You pull on a shirt and flannel. Rick adds a belt with an empty gun holster, socks, and your old shoes.

"I am. Now you'll get your knife back after you eat something," He says. Helping you up from the bed and walking you downstairs, to the kitchen. He sits you down at the table and gives you a water bottle with lots of dust on the outside and an opened can of fruit cocktail and three fried pieces of spam. You look down at the food and he hands you a fork, "You're not leaving this table until you eat at least half of that."

"Alright Rick," You say, picking up the spam and taking a bite out of it. You eat in silence for a couple minutes until you feel it start to become awkward, "Why do you care so much about me?" You ask, opening your water bottle.

"Is there something wrong with caring about you?" He asks. You shake your head and take a sip.

"I just haven't been here as long as everyone else and you didn't have to take me in. You don't have to care about me."

"But I do, and I will."

"Thank you Rick." You say before you start eating again.

[blacklegsanjiii]

North Blue Language CH 2

Chapter 2 can also be read on AO3 here!

CH 1!

“I don't want you two to leave.” Mihawk answers and Sora’s fingers stop moving. Her whole body tenses as she looks at Mihawk properly.

It had been two months since Sanji and Sora had moved into the castle, and Mihawk had counted as it had technically been eighty three days, so nearly three months. Sora had taken over many cleaning duties and Mihawk tried to argue until she fixed him with a look that ended that train of thought. Sanji joined him for cooking meals and he would be decent if he was an adult so being a child of ten meant he was very skilled for being young as he is. Sora’s health had also improved. Before she would tire easily and the tasks seemed to take all her energy and she had to take breaks but she could go longer now and had even tuned the piano in the castle and would play after dinner. 

Such as tonight, she was sitting at the bench playing a melody from the North Blue as Mihawk sat in the room and read a book of North Blue fairytales. Sanji had disappeared, as he often did, to explore the hidden depths and passages of the castle. Mihawk found them both extremely endearing. Sanji had opened up a small bit, a few words here or there about his siblings, of which he had four and he was part of the quadruplets Sora had carried. Sora still held herself with the grace of a queen, somehow Mihawk had grown used to the way she would carry herself and offer advice in the meetings he didn't want to go to or the best possibilities of treasure or plundering from the maps he had.

Mihawk did not want them to leave, he had learned that after the first month. It was just a matter of telling them, he enjoys the cleverness of Sanji's dry wit when he exposes it. It was similar to his own. And Sora often sang melodies under her breath that Mihawk would enjoy if he caught them. More often than not it was the same one where Mihawk could only glimpse the word ‘moon’ from the foreign tongue she sang in.

“You've been looking at the same page for the past ten minutes, I've never seen you so distracted before.” Sora hums as her fingers fly across the keys softly, the piano growing quieter than before.

“It's a welcome distraction.” Mihawk says, putting a bookmark in and closing the book.

“Would you like to talk about it?” Sora asks, sparing the swordsman a glance and a small smile.

“I don't want you two to leave.” Mihawk answers and Sora’s fingers stop moving. Her whole body tenses as she looks at Mihawk properly.

“I beg pardon?” She asks in disbelief, eyes wide with shock.

“I don't want you or Sanji to leave, but if you want to I won't stop you.” Mihawk responds and Sora nods mutely.

“I, we, I'm sorry.” She struggles as she puts her hands on her lap. “You don't wish for Sanji or I to leave? We haven't told you where we're from or anything that could be of detriment to you.”

“So tell me,” Mihawk argues. Sora looks uncertain but Mihawk continues, “I doubt you'll be able to change my mind, I earned the moniker ‘Marine Hunter' for a reason.”

“I suppose that's true.” Sora sighs out. “Sanji and I hail from a kingdom that fell ages ago, but the current king, my former husband, is trying to conquer it all over again. King Judge of Germa, who rivals most devil fruit users with his technology and experiments.” 

“Germa is a myth.” Mihawk replies.

“I assure you it is very real. His top experiments were our children and the soldiers. They were born to be fighting extraordinaires, and they are. With their exoskeletons and no emotions.” Sora states with sadness. “As you can gather Sanji was the only one I managed to save with that poison I took, but it hindered him compared to his siblings and I was helpless to stop it. I was trapped in the medical ward for the doctors to try to reverse whatever I had done to myself.”

“You also said Sanji thought you were dead for two years.” Mihawk points out.

“And I him. Judge announced I was dead and I was taken to a locked off medical wing, Sanji a few weeks later was proclaimed dead and thrown into the dungeons with a metal mask.” Sora says with sadness. “He was six.”

Fury burned within Mihawk as he thought about how the boy often put his hands on his hair and seemed surprised. The one uncovered blue eye always widened as he furled and unfurled a hand in his hair. How often he would just do it concerned Mihawk and he actually asked the boy if he wanted a hat and Sanji ran away. 

“Two years later we crossed the Red Line into the East Blue and I had managed to break us both out by stealing several sets of keys and we made it onto a cruise ship where we worked. I don't know if they think we're dead or what but the mask was left in his cell.” Sora explains. “I don't know whether or not they'll come after us, truly. Maybe they think we're dead. They probably wouldn't care either way.” 

“Then stay. I want you both here.” Mihawk says again and Sora looks at him with a smile.

“Until you tell us to leave.” She nods.

“Never.” Mihawk assures her with the confidence he held in in most things these days. Sora nods again and goes back to playing and Mihawk goes back to his book as Sanji runs into the room and hurriedly says something to Sora in their native tongue. Mihawk could only catch glimpses of what was said before Sanji ran back out.

“He seems to like it here.” Mihawk says lightly. A small grin on his face as he looks at the door that Sanji had run through.

“He does, we both do.” Sora agrees. Mihawk nodded and the night continued on. Later Sanji joins them to read and mumbles to himself in his native tongue. The hard constants softer and the vowels rolled easily from his mouth. When Sanji rubs his eyes and Mihawk picks him up to carry to his room, the boy flinches slightly and Mihawk rubs his back to placate him. 

“Tell me about your dream?” Mihawk asks gently as he fixes the boy's bed to lay him down.

“The All Blue.” Sanji mumbles. “It has fish from all the blues and more, spices and ingredients never found before. I want to open a restaurant there.” 

“You want to be a chef?” Mihawk asks and Sanji nods as Mihawk lays him down and covers him up. “Sleep well, Sanji.” The boy is asleep before he leaves the room and Mihawk lets himself smile slightly as he closes the door. 

It hit Mihawk like Yoru to a marine. He is in love with Sora and has basically adopted Sanji in the three and a half months they've been on the island. Sanji had agreed to training but he looked as if he dreaded every moment of it. Mihawk learned very quickly Sanji would rather not fight with swords. Or use his hands.

“A cook needs their hands.” Sanji explains as he and Mihawk make lunch.

“They do, and you need to know how to defend yourself so we'll come up with something.” Mihawk responds simply so Sanji nodded. The world was unkind and having a connection to one Dracule Mihawk is exceptionally dangerous. Mihawk took a softer approach to training with Sanji, often helping the boy up and dusting him off, explaining what he had done well, what needed work. 

Lunch was quick and Sora had come in just before they sat down to eat to wash her hands. Mihawk had also found himself enjoying putting Sora into finer dresses that she wore an apron with as she went around and cleaned. Sanji often wore training clothes at all times, enjoying how soft and loose they were. He is very flexible and could hold some rather tense extensions of his limbs that made him fit to join Buggy the Clown’s crew. 

“How did training go today?” Sora asks as she sat down next to Mihawk and Sanji sat across from her with his own plate.

“Very well, it's just a matter of finding a fighting style that fits with him, he has the skill to become a weapons master of any sort.” Mihawk answers while setting both his and Sora's plates down and taking his own seat.

“That's good, we could do some research later.” Sora suggests and Sanji nods as they start eating. Lunch was pleasant, all their meals were. 

“I love you both.” Spilled from Mihawk's mouth like the blood of a humandrill that had misbehaved on the island. The quiet was throat clenching as Sanji and Sora quickly try to cover their shock and Sora somehow managed to straighten her spine more.

“I'm not quite sure we heard-” Sora started.

“You both know very well I don't lie.” Mihawk interrupted her. “To be frank it explains why I would rather you both call this your home.”

“Right.” Sora nods. “I think we should save our conversation for after dinner, okay?” She pat Mihawk's arm and he nods as well.

“Very well.” He agrees, not knowing exactly where that particular conversation would land. Lunch was awkward after that and he couldn't quite pin down either of them until dinner preparations when he and Sanji had started making pasta and a red sauce.

“My father never told me he loved me.” Sanji says without much ado.

“He's a fool.” Mihawk replies.

“I'm a failure to him.” Sanji shot back. “I'm not like my siblings. When my siblings figured it out they were never stopped when it came to me.” 

“What do you mean?” Mihawk asks.

“Niji broke my ankle while Yonji and Ichiji held me down,” Sanji shrugs, “we were three.” He continues as if it was common place, and perhaps it was.

“They had no right.” Mihawk says, taking in a deep breath to quell his anger.

“My father said they could.” Sanji shrugs again as if that excuses any of it. Mihawk decides not to argue as they start rolling out the pasta and decide on what type of noodles they want to make.

“So you want to be my dad?” Sanji asks after a bit.

“If you'd have me.” Mihawk answers.

Sanji nodded with a small smile. “I would like that.”

“Then as long as it's okay with your mother, I would like it too.” Mihawk nods as they continue cooking. “Go get your mother, I'll plate up and bring it out.” Sanji nods and is out of the room like a lightning crack, his wiry limbs nimble and sharp angled. Dinner was no more out of the normal than usual, they talked and chatted, Mihawk relayed the news from the paper to them.

“Sanji, will you do the dishes?” Sora asks and Sanji nods as he gathers up the empty plates and cups and walks to the kitchen. Mihawk folded the newspaper and set it in his lap, giving Sora his full attention.

“I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable at lunch.” Mihawk apologises. 

“You never do things by halves do you?” Sora asks instead of acknowledging his apology.

“Not particularly.” He answers. 

“This is why you don't want us to leave?” She confirms with a nod from Mihawk. “Sanji already considers you a better father than Judge.” She sighs out.

“We talked about it during dinner preparations. I also understand if it's too much too soon.” Mihawk says. “You've both been through a lot.”

“I guess I'm more confused about how you love us?” Sora asks.

“I consider Sanji my son, and I love you as if you are my wife. I understand how that may seem off putting but you may choose how to respond and there will be no ill will.” Mihawk answers and the emotions swirling in Sora's eyes are unreadable. “I've already said I want you both here and to not leave, to call this place home. I want to care for you both.” 

“Do you know what you are asking for?” Sora asks as she reaches for one of his hands which he easily let her hold.

“I know I am asking to stay with you both however you choose, whatever that may look like.” Mihawk answers and Sora nods as she holds his hand tighter. He squeezes back lightly. “However you two want to do this, I will follow.”

“Thank you, Dracule.” She smiles and he lets the smallest smile show back. It was a good feeling to have, to know that he wasn't rejected but the slow going of whatever may be coming was enough to keep him quelled. They moved to the sitting room with the piano where Sanji eventually joined them. Sora played the piano as Mihawk read a book on North Blue language and Sanji pointed at a line in the book and repeated it in North Blue.

“I'm learning, I don't know what you said.” Mihawk says, giving the boy an amused look. He says something else in North Blue with a teasing grin as he leaves the room. Mihawk sent a questioning look to Sora who simply smiled at the piano as she kept playing, no answer was given as the night went on normally.

[s65ns]

Out of Time - Chapter Two.

Out of Time Masterlist

Previous Part: One Year / Next Part: Four Months

⚠️ TW: Mentions of Cancer ⚠️

word count: 1.7k words

••••••••••••••

Chapter Two: Six Months

evelyn's pov.

"I'm so tired."

"We're almost there, love." Harry says with a smile. He grabs a hold of my hand while holding the picnic basket in the other hand.

Harry had the bright idea to go for a walk today as a means to get me out of the house. I'd honestly call this a hike instead. We were in the middle of the woods for some unexplainable reason. All Harry could tell me was that it was surprise and that he's sure I would love it.

I sigh exasperatedly as we continued walking.

As time moves on, I can feel my internal clock ticking down and it doesn't sit well with me.

Every morning I wake up, I can feel my body slowly giving up on me. I don't have as much energy as I used to have. There's always something wrong with me every day, sometimes it's something different and sometimes it's the same thing.

If I'm not nauseous, I have a headache. If I don't have a headache, I feel depressed. If I'm not depressed, perhaps I'm fine for only but a moment, but the cycle repeats later on. It's irritating really. Nobody should have to live a life like this.

Ever since my oncology appointment, Harry has become very protective of me. He had already been pretty protective of me before, but something Dr. Ansley said must have really struck a chord with him.

He's been more proactive in my life. Clingy, even. Not that I'm complaining though...I appreciate having someone to walk this journey with me. Though I fear the aftermath of us getting so close only for me to leave some day.

The minute I told Harry I was feeling down, he came running. He claims me being in my house all day is the cause of me suffering with my own thoughts, which he wouldn't be wrong about.

Now here we are. I'm thirsty. My legs are killing me, and I just want to cuddle up in my blankie and go to sleep.

Don't even get me started on how hot it is.

"What if I die of dehydration? The sun is eating me alive right now." I say using my arm to wipe away some sweat.

"Evelyn, that's because you're wearing a sweatshirt in the middle of June." Harry says matter-of-factly. I roll my eyes and proceed to let him drag me to the picnic site. It's not like I could take off the sweatshirt.

The second I take off my sweatshirt, not only will I feel cold, but Harry will see my body.

For the past six months, hoodies and sweatshirts have been my best friend.

Along with the body aches, I've found myself losing a lot of weight. I haven't had much of an appetite, and luckily enough Harry hasn't noticed...or at least I don't think he has.

"Almost there." Harry says, turning back to look at me with a smile. I groan like a small child in return, but I'm soon silenced by the beautiful scenery that comes into view.

Just ahead, the trees begin to clear a small path that is better hidden from the sun. I relish in the shade and let out an audible sigh. Harry briefly glances over his shoulder, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

"We're here." he says. In front of us was a picnic table with a lake in the background. The grass tickled our legs as we walked. It wasn't cut too high, nor too low. The grass was soft and provided the perfect amount of cushion under our feet.

We walked over to the picnic table. Harry placed the picnic basket on the ground.

He released my hand to open the basket. Inside was your typical picnic tablecloth with the red and white patches. I stand back and watch the master at work.

Harry quickly places everything down on the table. As Harry finishes setting up the table, my stomach begins to growl.

Harry chuckles softly.

"Don't worry, love. I'm done." He walks over to me as I stay planted in my spot. My eyes follow him as he gets closer, a lazy grin placed on his face. I can feel my cheeks get hot as Harry runs his eyes over my face.

I try to catch my words taking in the sight before me. I mean, everything was just beautiful from the scenery to the picnic. Harry had really outdone himself this time.

"You made all this?" I ask as my eyes scan the different baked goods and sandwiches on the table. Harry nods, grabbing a hold of my hands to steady them from their subtle shake. He lifts my hands to eye level and places a kiss on each one.

"For you," he starts, "I made all of this for you." His eyes reconnect with mine and there's a glint in them I can't decipher. I watch as his eyes shifts between my eyes and my lips.

We stand there for what seems like an hour taking each other in. My stomach growls again taking us out of our trance. Harry lets out a breathy laugh.

"Let's eat." he says before leading me closer to the table. He makes sure the seat is comfortable for me by adding a small cushion. I smile and thank him.

Harry walks around to the other side of the table to sit across from me.

"Everything looks delicious, Harry." Harry smiles as he opens everything up.

"Thank you. I hope it tastes good too."

"Ah yes. I'm sure the pastries will definitely taste good. I remember you telling me how you spent your teenage years as a baker." I say with a laugh as I wait patiently for him to finish.

"All those years of baking are finally paying off, huh?" he asks. I giggle while nodding my head.

"Go ahead, love. Don't be shy. Dig in."

I say thank you once more before making a plate of two sandwiches and two chocolate chip cookies.

Harry then makes his own plate, and we begin to eat.

We make small talk as we eat. Harry catches me up on the latest drama with his publisher, and I catch him up on some of my latest art projects.

"So, when are you going to paint me?" he asks. I nearly choke on my food at his question. Harry chuckles under his breath at my reaction. He refills my cup of apple juice as he waits for me to calm down.

"I'm sorry?" I ask, I want to be sure I heard what he said.

"I asked when you are going to paint me." Wow, he really did ask that. My mind is scrambling for the best answer while my stomach is doing somersaults.

I have always wanted to paint Harry. He is truly a sight to behold with his beautiful, brown curls that sit atop his head and captivating green eyes. His long eyelashes help frame and bring out his eyes. He stands tall and confident.

Along with his mesmerizing features, Harry has an amazing personality and incredible fashion sense. I can't remember a moment where Harry has looked anything but put together. Even his PJs look styled and all he wears is a white shirt and grey sweats.

He's so sweet and kind. He always knows exactly when I need him and what I need him to do. He's very understanding as well and accepts everyone despite their differences.

Harry's always been such a good friend to me. If I didn't have a timer on my back or have cancer in general, I would take a shot at dating him.

Harry has always made flirty passes at me, and on the very rare occasion I would respond to the comments with a flirty comment of my own, but we never crossed that line.

From the beginning Harry has always been suggesting we take that leap of faith, but he's never once officially asked me.

"Evelyn?" Harry asks. I hum in response.

"Are you okay? You kind of zoned out on me there. I was just kidding about the-"

"No! I mean no, you're fine. I was just thinking about how I would go about painting you. You know how it is. Once I start thinking of something, I get a little carried away." I say sheepishly.

Harry smiles wide and nods his head while finishing up his plate. I had already finished eating and was now taking in the scenery. I stared out at the lake, enjoying the silence that overtook us.

"I would like to paint you someday, Harry." I say looking over at him only to see his eyes were already on me.

"Really?" he says, swallowing his final bite.

"Yeah. If I'm being honest, I've always wanted to. On our late-night drives or the time we went to the aquarium, I captured those moments in my mind, and I've always wanted to draw it out on a canvas."

Harry lets the words I said soak in. He gives a cheeky smirk before saying, "So you've always wanted to paint me like one of your French girls?"

I reach over the table and smack his arm as he lets out a laugh.

"Not like that, idiot." Harry nods as he continues to giggle softly.

We let silence overtake us again and watch the lake in peace. The water was calm, clear, and inviting. If I wasn't scared off shedding my layers, I would suggest we go for a swim.

"Evelyn," Harry says to get my attention, "there's something I've been meaning to ask you."

"If it's another comment about painting you like a French girl I'm not interested."

"No, no. This question's more serious than that." My brows crease together as I turn my body back to the table.

"What's up?" Harry looks at me for a moment before letting his gaze fall to my lips. I feel my cheeks get hot the longer he stares at me. I bite my lip in anticipation and his eyes immediately shoot up to mine.

I take note of how his pupils have eaten away at some of the green in his eyes.

"Harry?" He looks over at the lake briefly as a means of composing himself.

Harry releases a sigh before looking back at me and asking,

"Will you go out with me?"

[zannolin]

9, 11, 42

9. Do you comment on stories you read?

as many as i can, yes. i pride myself in doing my best to be the kind of commenter i'd love to have on my own fics. a lot of the time i don't leave as extensive comments as i would like because i'm really tired and low-energy by the time i have a moment to read fic but dammit i'm going to leave a nice comment! the author deserves to know their work was good and i enjoyed it!!

11. Link your three favorite fics right now

this is evil because i hate choosing. um. okay.

there's daggers in men's smiles by pinkgrapefloyd continues to haunt me. it's a lawrusso fencing au spanning the movies to cobra kai timeline and it's SOOOO. like it's everything to me. please read this fic. how is this not the most talked about fic in the world.

autostereogram by marycontraire. talked about this one before on my blog. will continue to do so. forever. set like nebulously post ck canon, it's about robby finding out lawrusso were briefly involved in '85 and it's so....like okay it's part of a series about them getting their lives together and getting themselves together and the whole messy history of it all and the entire series is good i cannot stress that enough. but this one. it's so devastating and perfect and the choice to tell it via robby's pov is fucking genius and i keep thinking about it. please read this fic. please hold my hand and talk to me about it. it haunts me.

love me on purpose by smoosnoom. oh. my fucking god. this fic. look me in the eyes. IGNORE the fact that it isn't finished. it doesn't fucking matter this fic is ART. i saw the summary and was bewitched body and soul. it's stranger things, post-canon, post-college. mike and will haven't talked for four years and everyone's back in hawkins for christmas and it's the most poignant, devastating, heartfelt story about depression and self-worth and losing touch and reconnecting and growing up and leaving home and coming back and GOD the byler writers have me by the throat and the heart and the soul also because they understand the assignment (estranged childhood best friends) (knowing someone better than you know yourself and then losing them and trying to find yourself again and maybe them too) (the inherent tragedy of growing up and growing apart) (the love was there and it mattered and what if it isn't anymore? what if it is?) this fic rly just made me lose my mind more over mike wheeler than i do normally which is saying something. if you know me at all.

honorable mentions go to compunction also by smoosnoom (ohhhh mike wheeler) & what kind of man doesn't by menocchio (lawrusso roadtrip fic of all time)

42. What’s the last fic you read? Do you recommend it?

i believe it was sleepless nights, losing ground, i'm reaching for you by andiwriteordie just this morning. i've been waiting all day to have time to comment lol. it's basically what if mike and will were both being vecna'd in season 4 and i really enjoyed it! the end is so cruel to me personally (in a fun way i would love another 10k words stat pls) but yeah i'd recommend it. it's definitely one of the best mike gets vecna'd fics i've found so far.

get to know your fic writer!

[erinabear]

I think

I'm going to get back into blogging. It feels like the right thing to do.

If you had told me when I was 15 that in 15 years I'd be back on tumblr posting about my life at 3 a.m., I'd have called you a fucking liar.

I honestly don't even remember who follows me on here. So, quick life update, I guess?

I now have two cats. I went vegan for four years and now I'm back to an omnivorous diet (Kerrygold Irish butter is the greatest luxury in my life). I've been on strike from my job for over a year now. I dropped out of social work grad school in February and I don't know if I'm going back. I got a part-time job at a bakery in the spring and promptly was fired from that. I have dealt with more emotional chaos in my personal life in the past two years than maybe for all of the rest of my twenties combined.

Now, there are good things. My cats are still the best, I've never liked myself more, I'm a better friend, I have found myself the loveliest little community in my city, I'm out as bisexual and dating women for the first time, I live alone in a huge apartment, I wore a string bikini for the first time this summer, I just bought a ukulele, and I started getting back into learning embroidery. I haven't had a bipolar episode since summer 2022.

All things considered, I kind of constantly feel like I'm on the edge of a breakdown, and I've been self-medicating with weed and alcohol. It feels like it's time for a change and to dig myself out of the mental mess I've gotten myself into.

I'm posting here as accountability, partly, and also because I miss just writing for writing's sake. I'm trying to start small -- moving my mental energy from Instagram (which is so bad for my body dysmorphia, holy shit) to this website and making daily and weekly chore lists to (mostly) follow so I can be a little bit less of a slob in my day to day life.

Maybe I'm projecting because of what I'm doing here, but it feels like social media is kind of collapsing alongside the rest of society, and I have this hope that remnants of the old internet will return -- people splintering off into their own niche interest groups and forming communities that way.

Anyway, all of this is to say: I'm 30 years old and I've completely lost the plot. I have no idea what the fuck I'm doing anymore. I don't think I ever really did. And yes, I'm gonna get all astrological in this space -- it's not lost on me that I'm in the middle of my Saturn return. Transformation, big life changes, sometimes chaos and struggle, becoming who you're meant to be. Things won't be like this forever. I hope.

[chaoticsoft]

long, rambly post about this past year under the cut

Taking stock of this year because I can't help it. I love the clean slate a fresh January offers. I love looking backward and forward for just a moment to decide what to keep and what to let go of.

On paper, this year was a lot of disappointment. I didn't get into a phd program. We tried repeatedly to move out of the area, but the opportunities presented were never quite the right fit. I still have issues with the tendons in both my hands that, despite occupational therapy, still haven't quite resolved yet.

This summer I was pretty depressed from not being able to use my hands to do the things I love, like cooking, playing video games, writing. Thankfully that has gradually improved somewhat, but even when I was in the midst of it, I still kept finding little sources of joy to help me get through. I learned to read and write in Persian (I'm not great at it, mind you, but I can actually tell what most things say now!). And I guess... for me, that's resiliency. It's looking for those bits of light where they can be found, because they are there. I'm grateful that I've finally learned to (stubbornly) look.

I didn't progress as far in Spanish as I would have liked. In hindsight, it might be kind of unwise to try and learn two languages at once, even if they are completely different. I guess I'm probably going to have to pick one to focus on for a while, it's just a difficult choice. Spanish has my mind in that it fascinates me and I know more of it (I'm probably intermediate, if I had to say). But Persian has my heart. I'm learning it for love. Love of the culture, love for my people.

I know I said that on paper this year held a lot of disappointment, but the truth is that it's held a lot of inner breakthroughs for me. I don't want to go into too much detail about it but one huge, positive change I'm bringing with me into 2023 is finally letting go of the disordered eating patterns that have been passively sabotaging my life. I'd been really frustrated with myself this past year when I would have such little energy, when concentrating would be a struggle, when I could barely get through a book or a workout, when my short-term memory was piss-poor. Most days I was only eating like one small meal a day and then wondering why I felt so miserable. I knew I had issues with restriction, but it still took me four years in therapy to finally work up the courage to even be honest with my therapist about it. I've been working at unraveling it for probably 8 months or so and I've only just started, within the last 3 weeks, to actually eat enough food for a person of my size. And it is almost laughable, the difference it has made. It would be hilarious if it wasn't. I have energy now to concentrate and read books again, to work out for over twice as long as before, my memory's returned. I no longer feel like my default state is this vaguely sad haze. I feel like I have my body back.

If you are someone who restricts (or has any sort of dysfunction around eating), I hope in this new year you'll also take the steps to heal. I know the disorder lies to you and says that it's helping you, I know it says it's giving you a sense of control. But it only hurts you. It robs you of things you don't even fully realize until you get them back. Genuinely, the best thing I ever did was seek help. I'm tagging this to avoid triggering anyone, please let me know if I missed any tags.

As I said, I read sadly few books in 2022 but my top ones are definitely The Mistress of Spices by Chitra Banerjee Divakaruni (this book *long, lingering chef's kiss*), Loose Woman and A House of My Own both by Sandra Cisneros (I devour her books in the bath like they're dark chocolate cherries, mango slices dipped in honey, or some other rich indulgence), and Who Fears Death by Nnedi Okorafor (what a fun, wild ride this book was, wow; for lack of a better comparison, it's kind of like Dune without all the colonial white savior bullshit). I just started Song of Solomon by Toni Morrison and it's really, really good so I may finish it before year's end but I'm not sure, so I won't count it lol. This coming year I hope to read and/or actually finish Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin, Cisneros's newest book of poetry Woman Without Shame, Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler, Dreamtigers by Jorge Luis Borges, and Braiding Sweet Grass by Robin Wall Kimmerer.

I've also resolved to cook more Persian food this year. Food is such a significant tie to a culture. Growing up, it was the only thing I experienced that made me "feel" Iranian as my Dad never really spoke the language to us or shared many of the customs. Those are all things I'm teaching myself as an adult. Still, it's time I mastered Persian cooking. I've already started working on it and I'm fairly pleased with my tahdig game already. :)

Anyway, I hope this past year has been kind to you. And even if it hasn't, I hope you're still able to sift for those glinting bits of good where they can be found. And even more, I hope for you a gentle year. A year that is soft and kind and healing.

[gludgenbell]

Have you ever felt "out of touch" with what's happening around you? And have you ever felt "out of your mind" with worry or stress? How did you handle it and cope?

Hmm

I'm not sure if out of touch and distant are interchangeable but I've definitely felt like I'm quite a bit far lately....

As for handling stress, I take a lot of comfort in knowing I'm not facing anything I can't overcome! And there's a sunrise to every sunset

I don't think I'm much of a worrier, I tend to be very relaxed until everything kicks into high gear and I plan/work until I'm satisfied Abe I don't. Take breaks or eat during that time

I've felt out of my mind with stress before and it's made me very irritable and quick to tears

I've hurt myself a few times (lightly, I am ok) in search of a release for the excess energy and found myself running/pacing in circles for minutes to an hour

Extended answer going under the cut about that first question because this is a long one and the mood is very gray, and I think I need to talk more abt it! If you feel like reading it though, you tell me if I'm out of touch or not

I'm realizing I like my personal space! I don't talk much and most of the time I go 'mm' in varying octaves and lengths! I'm realizing I'm not very interactive with my family during the day and most of the time I'm kind of put off about everything

My friend left for college the other day, they had a party I wasn't invited to and I didn't care about it but I got the impression from our other friends that went that maybe I should've?

They left and I got to talk to them on the phone and one of our moots kept asking if I had anything sentimental I wanted to say and all I could say was good luck and goodbye because I actually don't know what they're going to college for

I actively chose to speak to 3 people during the whole two months of summer, and for one of those people I was only half-there be cause I just didn't care about what was happening with us

I'm prepping to go on a mission for church! It's some big thinking and my friend told me she'd be okay and I didn't realize she was going to miss me until she mentioned she was crying about our other friend having left

I think, I'm very not here with the people around me

I have a hard time listening when some moots talk, and I keep feeling like I'm coming off more and more like a jerk because I just can't connect? I know I can be really empathetic, but I can be horribly selfish and I feel like I'm losing a lot of my empathy and I'm becoming incredibly apathetic

I really only think I have two people I'd call friends, which is tough when people keep insisting we're friends and I know by all accounts we are but I just can't seem to care about them

I'm supposed to make money so I can feed myself! And help my younger siblings! And I'd like a job for human interaction because I know I'm not getting enough

But I haven't been hired all through summer and I don't care anymore

I know I need to, but the idea of interacting with people, of having to learn again just leaves a bad taste in my mouth which is crazy because that's not me! I love people, I love interactions? I've found myself telling moots that I just don't like people anymore, in the sense that I'm always upset when they start talking and like

Everyone has a reason to say something. There's a purpose behind every word. I can't get past that purpose when someone talks. I'm intently aware of the message in their words and if there isn't one, the fluctuation of their tone

I'm annoyed by everyone who isn't my family and my two friends, I don't like talking to anyone who isn't my family or my two friends

I've been asked to call and for four whole hours I'm just irritated

I can mask my voice well enough but I sit there, for hours, staring at the wall just upset and going 'mm' every few seconds??

I don't think I'm above anyone really, I'm not out of touch in that sense

I just can't build a bridge between me and most people anymore and it's been happening more and more as months go on

Like I see the outline, I know the blueprint

I know what I have to do and I know what I used to do not even a whole year ago

But I have a hard time feeling like it's even worth it to pick up the pieces and start building

Even with my family I have to remind myself that relationship takes sacrifice and I have to do this thing I don't want to do, help when I don't want to help, care when I don't feel like caring, for there to be any love

n e way I'm not sure if it's out of touch or not to feel that way! It might be...?

[nellie-elizabeth]

Roswell, New Mexico: Down in a Hole (4x10)

Okay, I will say that this episode was quite the mixed bag for me, and while I still came out of it curious and excited for what comes next, I'm also feeling a lot of kind of bad energy about the fact that there are only three episodes left, and all the things they've set up that I can't imagine being satisfactorily paid off. Let's talk about it.

Cons:

There were many scenes/moments/ideas in this episode where I found myself thinking: if there was going to be a season five, or if this was happening in the first third of the season, I would like it just fine. But that ticking clock made it really hard for me to ignore the overall pacing issues of this season. For example, we get time to linger on Bonnie's emotional journey, to work with Tezca on coming to terms with her brainwashed villainy. We have time spent with Shivani and her grief for her daughter, the ways in which she and Liz are diverging on their goals. None of this stuff is bad, and if there were going to be a fifth and final season of this show, I don't think I'd mind as much. But none of this is why I'm here, and it does feel like we're wasting quite a bit of time that could have been spent with our core characters and their relationships.

I think the big one for me in this regard has got to be all the stuff happening with Evil!Liz. Now, as I'll talk about below, I kind of love the idea of Liz going full ruthless, dedicating herself to the science and shutting off her compassion. But there are three episodes of this show left, and Max and Liz are... broken up? Liz and Max have continually made these big unilateral decisions that cause serious problems for their relationship, and again and again it appears that they haven't learned their lesson. Hard to root for a happily ever after for them in just a few short episodes, when I'm sitting here thinking maybe it's for the best that they be apart...

Also, this is more of a "what I wish we could have seen" thing, but I thought Liz being the "bad" version of herself was going to be a lot more subtle and complex. The idea that this version of Liz isn't irredeemably bad, but merely that there's a ruthlessness there, borne out of fear and curiosity, that is no longer being tempered by some of her better instincts. Because of how extreme her choices are, it felt a little stupid to me that Max wouldn't immediately pick up on how awful she was being. The fact that Rosa had to point it out to him, and use the addict analogy to get him to see what was going on, just made it seem like Max doesn't know Liz very well at all.

I know I've mentioned this in like every review of this season, but one sort of overarching problem I have with Alex's absence is that the sense of urgency will ebb and flow in strange ways, as a function of the show's timeline not being clearly delineated. From what I can gather, the events of this episode are happening one day after Michael first found out Alex was missing. That's fine, that all makes sense to me... but it strikes me as odd and kind of stupid that Maria was getting messages from Alex, then they find the sinkhole and those messages abruptly... stop? Maria used her new powers in this episode to figure out about the portal and the alternate dimension, but did Alex just stop trying to reach out to her the second they knew he was in trouble and about the sinkhole? If so, why? And did Michael or Maria or whoever else not ask Alex to  reach out to give them further guidance? It's little things like that, where the sense of urgency and the timing feel unclear and off to me, that stops this from being a really good episode in my view.

Also... this is just one last thing on my wish list... I really liked seeing Michael and Kyle team up, and Maria and Rosa's scene was nice, but I really wish the four of them could have teamed up and done more together. That would have been really fun to see. As it was, the scenes actually focused on solving the mystery of Alex, Bonnie, and Dallas's whereabouts felt a little disjointed, and kept getting interrupted by things I didn't care about nearly as much.

Including... Isobel and Tezca. I feel like Isobel has gotten a raw deal this season. I really didn't like the plot line with Anatsa, I've thought the Kybel stuff has been pretty hit or miss, and this whole new revelation about Tezca being her mentor, while potentially interesting, keeps her siphoned off into this little plot cul de sac and gives us less time between her and the other characters that I want to see her interact with. It's distracting the hell out of me that nobody has asked Tezca any questions about Alex... like, they seem to know Clyde was the one who sent Bonnie and Dallas through, and I guess they assume the same is true for Alex? But why not ask Tezca, a person literally in on the plan, if she has any information? Tezca is the one who sent Alex through that sinkhole to begin with. Would be great if they'd address that.

Pros:

Okay. Sorry. I feel like that was a lot of complaining. This episode really was okay, and I like to keep a positive attitude. Overall, I still do enjoy tuning into this show, even though if I'm being brutally honest, this last season's main story beats have been pretty incoherent and poorly paced and just not that fun. I like the characters, though, and for that reason I still eagerly await how it's all going to wrap up for them.

To start, even though I did feel a little antsy when we were spending time with Bonnie and Dallas, I do honestly like these characters and thought they had a good energy together as they tried to figure out where they were, and talked about Bonnie's purpose on Oasis, and her love for Earth. Bonnie works as a good counterpoint to Michael, in that she grew up on Oasis but feels like she's found her home elsewhere on Earth. It's all about feeling empowered to make that choice. And I like that in the end, Bonnie decided to stay in the alternate universe to "help [her] friend find the man he loves." You go, Bonnie! Michael hugging Bonnie and Dallas when he passed through the portal was also really cute.

Okay, and in terms of Liz and Max: like I said above, I think I'd feel really different about this if there was a whole other season left for them to sort out their shit. Like, if this season ended with them broken up and separated and Liz fully down the rabbit hole, I'd have a great time with that. I was legitimately pretty excited when Liz coldly refused to tell Rosa what she needed her blood for, put her down for being an addict, then went and dumped Max as a boyfriend, and Shivani as a science partner, all in one fell swoop. Damn, girl. You're really going through it, aren't you? All of this is so fun, I like that Liz has always had these ruthless tendencies and now she's just fully leaning into them. I think my favorite moment was with Max, when he talked about her experiments on the dead frog being unethical and she shoots back with "so it's only okay when you do it?" That was pretty intense. Liz and Max really do have some good chemistry and the way they both played that high stakes conversation really worked for me. Max saying he always just wanted to be the guy standing behind Liz Ortecho was also really sweet. He admires her and her intellect and innovation so much, even though he knows at this point that she's gone too far.

I've mentioned that the Kybel stuff this season has been a really mixed bag, but broadly speaking I loved them here... the awkward, intense hug full of so much regret and longing, and then Max picking up on the ~vibes~ when Kyle watches Isobel walk away... also, Michael giving sage but vague advice while also giving off the energy of "I don't care about your love life problems when my soulmate is missing." All very fun. I suspect Kybel might not get the time it deserves to flourish in these last few episodes, but I hope we can at least end on hope for them in the future.

And then there's the subplot that I of course I care about the most, the continuing quest to find Alex and Dallas and Bonnie. Rosa and Maria have a great scene together, where Maria takes Rosa's advice in order to channel her new abilities into further answers. I really love where we've come out on Rosa's character, that she has gained some equilibrium and can offer advice to Maria on her journey with her powers. Given that Rosa wasn't in a ton of this season, this is exactly where I'd expect and want to see her, with her life mostly figured out, able to in some ways reassert some of the "older sister/older friend" energy that would have been her role.

Kyle is the MVP of this entire show, to be perfectly honest. What a good dude. I would watch hours of him and Michael working together. I like how Kyle is just being a nice guy, and then Guerin can't help but be impatient/dismissive of him, up to and including him saying how much he hates it when Kyle is right. And Kyle really brings the comedy ("oh my god. Is this some space curse?"), along with the heartfelt, in his speech about Alex reaching back for Michael, how he wants to be with Michael just as badly as Michael wants to be with him. That concept, of Kyle being willing to hold the faith and keep believing even when Michael falters, that's honestly one of the most moving and important things you can do for the people in your life who you love. Sometimes it's hard to stay positive, but if you can take that on for someone else for a while, giving them an opportunity to rest, that's a real gift!

Obviously I love seeing Michael all worried and mopey about Alex... the moment where he's fiddling with his necklace and looking off wistfully into space is particularly touching. His decision at the episode is, to be honest, the Height of Romance! He goes through that portal even though he knows he will be trapped there. He goes through because his priority is getting to Alex. It doesn't even seem to register with him that the mystery of his console has been solved, that if they get more fuel, it could be a way for him to go home to Oasis. The second that Michael knew Alex was in trouble, that became his one priority. I'm honestly looking forward to next week, wondering how Max and Isobel are going to react to Michael's choice... I hope we get to see them process that a bit, and obviously my fingers are crossed that we'll actually see Alex at last!

So that's where I'll stop. I know this review has a lot of complaining in it... honestly, staying positive in this fandom can be kind of hard sometimes because a lot of people seem to approach the episodes just waiting to be pissed off and disappointed, and there's a bit of a feedback loop with that stuff, where my own opinion gets tangled up in the negativity I see elsewhere. This isn't the final season of the show I would have chosen, I can definitely admit that. But I'm still excited and hopeful that our final three episodes will leave me mostly satisfied!

7/10

[syubub]

ENERGY CHECKUP: YOONGI (again)

Now, I know I've already done an energy check up on yoon but I wanted to see how he was doing now that he's gotten his shoulder surgery!

Disclaimer time: tarot is not to be takes as fact and is my interpretation if the cards :) entertainment purposes only~

SHIT IS STRANGE (it is Yoongi though so I'm not too shocked)

So. For starters, his energy is pretty calm and chill. He's also a bit more quiet?

I wrote a note that tomorrow is exciting... idk I wrote it down and I'm not sure if its exciting for him or for us? Maybe its just a general like, "tomorrow is a good day" type thing.

Now. 11... I wrote this down and I'm not sure why though I believe that he might be seeing 11:11 on the clock or possibly that something exciting is happening for him at 11:11 (I just checked and thats in like an hour and a half from when I'm writing this down(( update i just finished writing the whole post and it is about 11 minutes away)) idk. I make no promises but I wrote it down so there you go.

I also kept seeing plants and I'm not sure if people got him flowers or plants as a "get well" type thing or maybe he's stressing bc someone has to water his plants lol

Okay. Okay. Hear me out. Black bean noodles. It popped into my head and I was told to write it down but I'm also really hungry so take that with a grain of fucking salt. (I even pictured a nice elaborate bowl that was red as well as the take out container. Yum. Send me noodles)

MOVING ON

Here's the actual reading lol. He is bored.

Thats all. Thank you for coming.

Jk

I joke. The cards give me a kind of frazzled feeling? Its the struggle of knowing hes done something good but it comes at a cost. Yoongi works. A lot. All the goddamn time. So what now? He's having this shake up thats forcing him to deal with stuff. Him having this surgery also may have brought back some less than favorable memories/ feelings that hes being forced to deal with now. Over all though he feels like its good. The 6 of wands makes me think that he's thinking of our response when he comes back. Its like he's gonna be so much more confident in himself and his dancing and he can finally move on from the car accident? It happed so long ago but he literally carried this burden with him. Its good. The wheel of fortune and is about a change and the 8 of swords is about self imposed restriction, imprisonment and over all bad/ negative feelings. I pulled the wheel of fortune first and asked what was changing and that was the 8 of swords. This surgery is helping to free him from this restricting, painful thing that may have been reminding him of the past! YES HEALING

Now. For this section I just kinda asked "whats up?" And got, easy does it, divine life purpose l, balancing masculine and feminine energies and uplift your thoughts. He may be resting but he's got his mind working on 3,000 my dude. Its the regular "yoongi is woke af" bullshit but damn. The cards say what they say. He's preparing. I'll come back to this.

Now the 7 of cups and the 3 of swords. I asked how he felt about missing out on promoting. He's heart broken with the 3 of swords. It genuinely pains him. And with the 7 of cups he might feel like there's a lot of ways this can play out and he's considered a lot of options.

I was curious how he felt about me coming into his energy so I asked him what he thought of me. Lol. These each came out separately. We got, 2 of cups, four of wands, the empress, justice, the magician, the sun and the lovers. Ha

So. To add to the mood setting my guide said "he's a drama queen" lol yeah he is.

So so so so so. I was confused? Still am a little confused but I'm like 80.9% sure that he isn't bothered by me poking around in his energy n shit. In fact my theory is that he's using this connection to his advantage? Lol sounds dumb but my best guess is that home boy sees my energy/ what I'm doing as a way to figure out his own shit? Idk maybe he thinks I'm his energetic therapist. Maybe even a matchmaker (I mean... I have been putting a lot of energy and work into finding/ connecting with his soulmate so maybe he's letting me do all the dirty work) I really don't understand but I got no further explanation.

Oki oki oki. Now. I was drawn to 2 books. The kybalion and the prophet. I asked yoon if there was any messages that we wanted to point out through the books and I got a number for each book so I took it as page numbers. 28 for the prophet and 54 for the kybalion

Take what you will from these if it calls to you. I haven't read these since I was around 13? The sentiments for each felt important to me so I'm curious what you all might think/ feel when reading these? ( I also get the feeling that Yoongi has read the prophet idk why)

Okay. At this point I was like cool, let's wrap this up but I need to talk about his pjs? Green/grey? Plaid pj bottoms don't ask me don't ask me don't ask me I don't know but It wouldn't go away so I had write it down? Help.

I had written yoongis brother down too. Theres something about him? I'm not sure what but thats all I got lol

I was very strongly told that I needed to remember 7, that its important. Got it. Worth it down.

Oki. As I was going back to the platform blah blah blah the string turned blue too. The cord is usually white or silver but it was blue so that was a fun thing and then I was like "nice. Cool. Thanks. This was awesome, get healthy blah blah" and go to leave/ end the connection but the cord wouldn't go away.

???

What.

Then the string (idk if I said but that string shit is like on the third eye? Its connected to my forehead and his too.) Kind tightens.

I'm like, "oh shit."

Listen. Usually everything is smooth and nice and I just leave.

All is well though bc my guide is like, "stop being a little bitch" so I just let it happen.

Yoon shoves me back off the edge of the platform. Why he gotta be like that?

Now. This is strange. I had dropped down into a library.

Y'ALL

I almost shit my fucking pants. Dear god.

THE AKASHIC RECORDS MY DUDE

He started walking me around until he found a blue book. His mother fucking book.

Home boy brought me to his fucking Akashic fucking blue fucking book.

I was big mad. "YOU LITTLE FUCKER! YOUVE KNOWN ABIUT THIS SHIT?" And he was like, "duh"

I've never felt more disrespect lol

Also the way the library was presented was way way way different from how it looks to me. So thats an interesting note. Looking at his book, on the base of the spine is a number 7...

Oki. Cool. I asked if I could look and he said, "Sure, when you can find your way back."

This mother fucker threw me out of a meditative state. Have you ever woken up just before you hit the ground in one of those falling dreams? THAT WAS THE FEELING.

?? I'm not sure what the fuck just happened or if it holds actual significance.

Anyway. After cursing the fuck out of yoobi I started thinking what else 7 ment.

I was specifically told to remember 7 and it was on his book. Then It popped into my head (I want to say its because I'm smart and thought of it all by myself but I think that was my guide wanting me to keep my last brain cell safe). What is yoongis life path number?

Now I don't know shot about life path numbers but imma read up on them tonight. I used a life path calculator on Google. HIS LIFE PATH NUMBER IS 7 Y'ALL.

Maybe I'm dumb as fuck but yoobi never disappoints.

Conclusion: Yoon is fine. Hes just being a yoongi and a yoongi does.

⬆️Me after this reading⬆️

⬆️ Yoongi rn playing 12D chess⬆️

[strongsassysexysloane]

Eleventh Day of Twelve - A Tired but Treasured Day

A/N - Look at that! We are second from the end! Thank you to all the comments and love! Really appreciate it, it's been a long week!

. . . .

Read previous drabbles below.

. . . .

You walked into the office clinging to your cup of coffee. It felt like you were just here and you were, only five hours ago. This time however it was your own doing. You'd found a tiny shred of evidence to go on and had to follow it before the trail went cold. Then it lead to Gibbs and Nick finding the killer in a warehouse in town and bringing him in at just after 0100. You didn't finish interrogating until 0200 and it was now 0730. Coffee, coffee needed to be pumped into you to wake up this morning and a constant flow throughout the day would be required.

To your delight there was a hot cup sitting on your desk as you walked into the bullpen. No note so you assumed this time it wasn't from your gift giver. Day 11 and no one had spilled the beans or gone looking at the cameras like they wanted to on day one.

"Gibbs dropped it off about five minutes ago before he went down to get a report from Kasie who wasn't pleased to be called in so early." Ellie explained while leaning back in her chair and sipping her coffee. "He brought one for all of us."

"Christmas miracles do happen." Nick grinned, dropping his small cup in the trash. "Done."

"It's not a race. You just slugged all your energy for the next three hours."

"Oh please, I've stayed up later and come to work more tired before. Remember the November incident." He waved off.

"I still feel hungover from it." Ellie grumbled, scrunching her nose at the memory of Tequila.

"Please don't remind me." Tim groaned. "Plus I'm not allowed anymore Tequila, Delilah's orders."

"She may be on to something." You ran your hand through your hair, smirking at the banter. Turning on your computer for the day, you saw the next gift hanging from your desk lamp. It was beautiful, a little teddy bear carved out of marble with a shimmering purple and green crown sitting on its head.

"Day 11, the gift giver strikes again." You rolled your eyes at Nick's words while holding the Christmas decoration in your hand, running your thumb over the intricate detail.

It was sweet, a cute addition to your small Christmas tree at home. You'd put it up on December one. That was your tradition and some years it didn't seem worth it but you made the effort. Being alone on Christmas sucked, there was no way around it but this year you were making an effort to not sulk about it. The secret gift giver certainly lifted the spirit as well.

Your tree wasn't over the top but a nice addition to your home. This would fit perfectly front and centre and you made sure of it.

The day was relatively easy. The office banter keeping the spirits going with a good supply of caffeine. It was really just a lot of paper work and then you were set free around mid afternoon to try and have that weekend off. This time Vance made sure the team wouldn't be called in. There were other agents to take the call after all.

You'd missed Jack most of the day and didn't want to interrupt her as she was head deep in evals for the end of year. Instead you decided to shoot her a text when you got home.

- Just wanted to say have a good weekend. Didn't want to interrupt your head mojo.

You knew she'd get a kick out of it and you weren't mistaken.

- Head mojo hey? Smarty in the evening just like you said. Missed you today, didn't realise how many evals I still had to do before I went on my trip. Now I'm back logged and still at work.

It was just hitting 1830 which was a late one for Jack on a Friday. She was always hurrying along at the end of the week to make sure by the time 1700 hit she was out the door.

- I hope you are either finishing for the evening or planning on having dinner while you work. It's getting late, Jack.

- No need to worry about little old me. I need to get these done, I'll grab a bite later. Enjoy your night.

An idea popped to mind, you grabbed your coat and car keys and headed back out into the snowfall with your blue scarf still wrapped around your neck.

Thankfully, you weren't too far from the Navy yard and the Diner was just a five minute detour on the route. You called ahead so the food was ready when you got there and still warm when you knocked on her door.

"Come in, y/n."

You huffed, opening the door. "Now how could you possibly know it was me?"

Jack was sitting on her couch, shoes off, legs crossed and glasses tugging her hair back and sitting on her head. "You didn't reply, you always reply. And you care too much." She got up, placing her laptop on the coffee table and walking up to you.

Those were a lot of compliments you weren't entirely prepared for. You thought Jack was the one that cared a lot, but never too much. "I think I care just the right amount but I can eat this all by myself if you'd prefer?" You smirked, pretending to walk back out but Jack caught your arm.

"I didn't mean it like that. I lo-ike that you care so much." She ran her hand up and down your arm a few times before dropping it away. Her warm comforting smile turned into a cute frown. "And don't you dare walk out on me now that youve made all this effort to come here." She took a deep breath in. "Is that two cheeseburgers and fries?"

The frown and the way her nose twitched at the smell was completely adorable. "With a side of gravy. Wasn't sure if you liked it on your fries or not." You shrugged, missing the soft and loving look Jack gave, you walked past her and sat at one end of the couch, unpacking the bag of food. "Come, sit." You urged, patting the spot beside you as she just stood there and watched.

With a soft smile curving her lips, she came around after a beat and sat exactly where you said to. She took the small pot of gravy and poured it over her fries before pouring the rest over yours. "Thank you."

You bumped her shoulder lightly. "Anytime. Can't have Jack Sloane Hangry and loose in DC." That got you a slap on the knee but it was worth it as her hand soothed the spot she hit and stayed there for a while until it was time to eat.

"Didn't mean to ruin your Friday night plans either." She took a huge bite of the burger.

Between bites you managed an answer, "You mean my big watching The Holiday movie while eating a cup of noodles or the one where I go to sleep at 7pm because im living on about four hours sleep right now."

Skipping over how tired you were she jumped at the mention of the movie. "That's my favourite Christmas movie! It's got the best of both worlds! The sun of LA and the cold winter wonderland of the UK. God, I haven't watched that in years! My mum and I went to the movies to watch it and then every Christmas after we'd watch it together, some people had Love Actually, we had The Holiday. Guess I stopped watching when mum passed." She ate a few more fries. "Wow, Jack, way to ruin the good mood. Sorry. Got lost for a moment there."

You liked it when she rambled. She always would say so many interesting things and you just loved to hear her voice. You prayed the day never came when you wouldn't hear it anymore. "Don't apologize-" You held up your hand to stop her from butting in. "- And, no it's not because of Gibbs silly rule. I enjoy hearing about your past about things you love or did. The Holiday is a sweet movie, my must watch in December along with The Grinch, Home Alone and many more. I try my best to keep the holiday spirits up when I'm by myself for them which has been the last many."

"I enjoy hearing you talk too." She smiled, taking a massive bite of her burger and filling up her cheeks.

There was no silence after that. The evals were put to the side and you talked for what seemed like hours. Talking about childhood Christmas' and silly stories to cringe worthy dating moments over this time of year. It wasn't until you couldn't keep your mouth shut from yawning that you said good night around 2300.

"Sorry you didn't get your evals done." You sing over the roof of your car as Jack unlocked her Mini.

"Don't be. I'm happy to come in tomorrow because tonight was fun!" Her genuine smile told you that she wasn't lying. You could read people pretty well and most times Jack Sloane was an enigma to you but right now you knew she was telling the truth.

"Good night, Jack."

She opened her car door before adding. "Enjoy your movie!"

You yawned with a laugh. "You're kidding right? I'm going to sleep, I'll watch it tomorrow now."

"Fair, good night y/n. Sweet Dreams!"

. . . .

Who doesn't want this to end? Me. But I also maybe, slightly want a break from writing every day. It's been fun but tiring. I've enjoyed it a lot though! I love this time of year, if only I wasn't working in retail.

[adaar-i]

little life update

hello my lovelies, it has been a little while hasn't it?

i still check tumblr from time to time (and still get notifs for chats which people are more than welcome to use), but to be honest i think i've finally lost interest in tumblr. most of the time the website or the app doesn't work properly for me, and since i'm not really making art right now i haven't got anything to contribute either.

i'm slightly more active on instagram so feel free to follow and chat with me there <3

but as for a little life update:

i'd say we're handling covid pretty okay here in australia. things are mostly back to normal, so my anxiety surrounding that has reduced somewhat.

i'm still at my same warehouse job, still enjoying it, still smashing kpis, and will hopefully be offered a permanent position in the next couple of weeks.

my mental health is a bit up and down at the moment, but i've finally gotten around to finding a new therapist which will be super helpful. i also found out i'm pretty anemic so trying to get that sorted is totally fun (not)

i haven't really had the energy to make art, so far this year i've only done two drawings:

right now i'm really into writing though, and making people more aware of mental health and trying my best to share my journey with it. so that's been a fun outlet.

probably the biggest change for me has been that i've met someone. we've been dating for about four months and it's going really well so far. he brings me so much peace, is kind, understanding, funny, the biggest dork and the best cuddler. (and that drawing up there is what i made him for valentines day xD). i've never really been in a proper healthy relationship before, so it's really nice.

other than that life is pretty much the same. i'm very much trying to live life as best as i can in these weird times. i'm very much putting most of my effort into surrounding myself with good experiences with good people, and also going through a lot of personal growth and exploration.

i have my good days and my bad, but overall i definitely feel as if i'm working towards the life i've always wanted, and becoming the person i know i can be, which is very exciting.

i do miss all the friends i've made here on tumblr, so please, don't hesitate to send me a message, i'd love to chat with you! i hope you're all doing well, and who knows, i may come back to tumblr again.

[alphys-answers]

Hey there! It's been uh. Four entire years since I've last posted on here, huh.

If you haven't realized already, this blog is pretty much done! I admittedly lost motive to continue this blog, alongside with being overwhelmed and trying to make art at a high quality in spite of my health... And since then, a lot's happened! I probably should've made this post a lot earlier, but hey! (Sorry to all the folks still asking to this day... There's quite a few of you.) I got a boost of energy from nowhere today, so I finally put myself up to writing an actual goodbye message. I want to add quite a bit of commentary, so if you're up for hearing me talk a bit, then you're in for a treat(?)

Hi there! I'm the mod, 4 years later. I made this blog and all of the art on it, including this piece. (I'd like to think I've improved quite a bit.)

This was my first (and last) askblog I ever made, at the age of 15- in the really early days of undertale as I found myself deeply connecting with Alphys as a character, and I'm delighted to see that so many people also connected with her. I hope this blog was in character! It might've slipped once or twice, who knows. I don't know Alphys as well as I did at this age, but I hope at least, it was entertaining. As an incredibly anxious teen who didn't understand himself, Alphys-Answers helped me a lot; I made friends, I learned tablet art, and a bunch of other things. As much as I don't think about this blog, in truth, it really did change a lot for me for the better! If you're one of my old mutuals, hi there! You made a nice impact on my life- I was incredibly inexperienced having just gotten off of drawing on my 3DS, and to have such a positive attitude for my art was incredibly helpful. Admittedly, when undertale started to become increasingly popular, I was intimidated by the size of the fanbase, and that too contributed to me leaving without a solid goodbye- I'm still sorry about that, hence this post. Hope this makes up for it! I'm doing alright in spite of everything, if you're wondering.

I'm going to leave this blog up and intact as an archive for my 15 year old schenanigans; as tacky as I think quite a lot of it is, it's nice to have it archived somewhere. I'm really glad so many people liked it, even in spite of it's haywire uploading schedule!

I'm not going to promote my current socials here: if you know who I am, you know who I am (hi there) and it's pretty wild to say you've known me this long. I don't use tumblr anymore, but all mine are archived for archival's sake as well.

And to finish this off, I'd like to say as the admin of this blog that this Alphys, canonically, is chilling on the surface with her cool fish girlfriend. I've closed asks and such; this is the end of her tale. Thanks for being a nice spot in my life, and I hope that this message finds you in good health.

Let's go lesbians!

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 4)

A.n: Lol so things are about to get very Adult Themed up in here. Children do not read thank you. My consious demands it.

Warnings: Light smut, dark themes, mention of rape

Word Count: 4200+

MASTERLIST

Playlist

They shouldn't have been caught as soon as they were... and yet.

The second Jerome and Y/n had gotten outside the fun house, they'd been overrun by cops. The two had made it pretty far, but then someone had tackled Y/n from behind. The boy had been surprised when, from his spot on the ground, he heard Jerome's voice of all people scream his name. The redhead had paused, allowing another cop to take him down as well. Now they were being transported. Jerome, to Arkham, and Y/n just to regular jail. They hadn't determined him criminally insane yet, though it seemed to be going that direction as Y/n and Jerome spent the entire ride flirting with each other and cracking up at each other's jokes. They'd only quieted when each of the cops in the back with them held two guns to Y/n and Jerome respectively, threatening them. Jerome hadn't been that quiet or still for a while.

Y/n was the first to be escorted out of the back of the truck, arms handcuffed behind him. He was taken into GCPD offices, a smile on his face. One that promptly was wiped clean off when he was pushed inside and Jim Gordon stood waiting for him, Bruce and Alfred on either side of him.

Bruce moved first. He jogged to Y/n, a mixed expression on his face. The last time he'd seen Bruce, they'd been much different people. Y/n had left him behind to train with Penguin- no doubt Gordon had told him about the event, and surely he'd seen Y/n right at Oswald's side ever since. Until tonight, where Y/n had been found with Jerome- considered the worst of all the Gotham psychos.

Despite everything, Bruce seemed to be worried and relieved for the most part. The two boys stopped as they stood in front of each other. Bruce frowned, reaching up to touch his fingers to a wound on Y/n's forehead. It must have been from the tackle. Y/n hadn't noticed until now. "You're hurt." It wasn't a question so Y/n didn't respond back. Jim approached, motioning the officer that had Y/n to follow him. Y/n was pulled away and Bruce was left behind. Y/n ended up in an interrogation room, handcuffed and facing Bullock and Gordon. Y/n knew that Bruce was on the other side of the one sided glass, though, which meant that Alfred was too.

"Y/n," Gordon began. He seemed to pause, as if unsure how to continue.

So Y/n took his cue. "Why am I here? You have Jerome, so you can't be looking for information about him. If you want to determine my psyche and where I should end up, I mean I know I'm amazing but Jim Gordon and Commissioner Bullock? Here for little ol' me? I'm flattered, honestly." Both men looked at each other. It seems they didn't realize just how far lost Y/n was.

This tactic was new to Y/n, too. Oswald had taught him to be silent and unbreakable. Pleasant but unshakable. Like his dad used to be. Nice to talk to, leaving no option to backstab. It had been very different from how Y/n acted when he was just himself.

The cockiness and ease that Y/n exhibited now was a little mix of all the personas he'd most taken to or been taught over the years. There was the complete inhuman unaffectedness that had been taught to him by Angela, mixed with the ease that Oswald had taught him, the charisma he'd absorbed from Jerome in the short time they'd spent together, and his own energy he'd always been able to call on and struggled to hide. He felt like a new person again. A person he loved being.

"We're here because Bruce trusts us," Bullock said as the silence began to stretch. "You're in a safe place now, Y/n. You can talk to us. Tell us anything. Jerome is far away and can't hurt you. You can tell us what happened."

Oh. Y/n snorted. "You guys think Jerome kidnapped me and held me against my will or something?" Bullock cleared his throat. Y/n had always been told that he looked a lot like Bruce. He had differences, obviously, but as children people would try to get his attention thinking he was Bruce. Sometimes his mom would call him by his younger brother's name. Y/n realized it must be a little startling to see the actions he was displaying on a face so similar to his brother's, when Bruce was ever the staple good boy. Bruce would become a cop, if he didn't go into dad's business after all. Y/n would become... something else. It was becoming clearer as he grew older.

"What happened to you?" Jim asked. He was shaken, obviously upset and not quite able to grip the drastic difference in the Y/n he knew versus the boy in front of him.

Y/n rolled his head back, sighing. "A lot." He began bouncing a knee. "Do you want the whole life story?"

Jim crossed his arms. "I've got time."

Y/n chuckled softly. "I mean I have nothing to hide." He pushed his head forward, letting his eyes roam around the otherwise empty, bland room. He counted the cracks in the walls and memorized the paths they took as he spoke, keeping himself calm. This was a tactic he'd learned from therapy. "I mean I had a happy childhood. Parents have their favorites. Gotham had their favorite. Bruce was Mr. Perfect. But people liked me and I had parents who were supportive and loving or whatever, so there's that." He sighed again, closing his eyes. "Then they died. I got to take control of a company I wanted nothing to do with. And you know why?" Y/n opened his eyes, looking Jim directly in the eyes. "Because I was easy to manipulate. I was young and nieve and soft. Easy to bend and break and shape. It was easy to do whatever she wanted when it came from my mouth, because I was a Wayne."

"She?" Jim asked.

Y/n‘s jaw worked. "Angela. Angela Dyer." He swallowed, tasting bitterness in his mouth. "She was new to the business. Had worked there barely four years, which made her a newbie compared to the others who'd been working 20, 50, however some odd years. She was twenty years old. Not even old enough to drink. And she was pretty. Men aren't nice when they want something from a young, pretty girl. Especially in Gotham."

Jim shifted, obviously uncomfortable. "What does she have to do with you?"

"We were fast friends when I started being there. Close in age. Both new. The higher ups just wanted a Wayne present, but with her help I actually made a place for myself. Well-" he snorted. "A place for her. She moved up fast with my help. And all those men who used to walk all over her..." He shrugged. "I didn't ask questions about it."

Bullock's eyes widened."She killed them?"

"I think she just scared the shit out of them. Lots of threats, with me to back her up and hit the yes button when she needed. Manipulation. I think women are better at it than men, on average, but she was the best." His jaw locked and he took a few seconds to loosen it. "Pretty soon we were really close. Really close." He was looking at Bullock now. Training his gaze on the older man's. Drilling a message he didn't want to say. Bullock had gone inhumanly still. "She told me it was our little secret. That she just wanted to reward me after all our hard work."

"You were fourteen," He snapped, his hands curled into fists.

Y/n smiled. He actually smiled. "I didn't know what else to do. Boys don't have those problems. Or so I thought. She climbed the latter and taught me to keep my emotions bottled up. But I wasn't good at it. One day I yelled at her when she tried to... reward me that day." He swallowed. "I freaked out and asked her not to. She kissed me. Told me that she loved me and I loved her and it was okay because obviously I was enjoying it. Told me I couldn't be gay because-"

The room was heavy. "You're..."

"Yeah," Y/n croaked. "Only my parents knew. I haven't even told Alfred or Bruce, but I told her because I didn't want her to do it the first time. Or any other time. Tried to explain that I was gay and I didn't like it. She told me I couldn't be because my body was reacting to it, so obviously I was enjoying it." Y/n swallowed again. His mouth was getting dryer by the second. "One day I told her if she didn't stop I was going to tell someone. She told me that she loved me, like she always did. Except this time, she insisted that she needed me. That she couldn't handle just being friends with me. Told me she would kill herself if I broke up with her. As if we were dating-" His voice broke off, his eyes drilling holes into the wall.

Jim stepped forward. "She didn't-"

"She did." Y/n shook his head. "I thought it was my fault too for a long time, until finally Oswald convinced me otherwise." He shook his head. "I needed to get out of my childhood house. Away from Alfred and Bruce, who I couldn't even begin to explain to. Away from insanity and memories and near death experiences. So I went with Penguin, that night. He made me feel more powerful. More in control of my life. Helped me grow up and discover myself a little." Y/n grew quiet. "Did you know that the body has automatic responses to sexual actions that have nothing to do with pleasure? Me getting off had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not I wanted her to-" He cut off. "Edward Nygma told me that one." His voice was weak and broken. He shrugged. "So there's your sob story, Gordon. That's what happened to me. Now if you'll either send me to jail or let me return to Oswald, that would be appreciated. You see that mayor of yours is kind of my best friend and he's going through a hard time- why are you looking at me like that?"

Gordon and Bullock seemed to be sick to their stomachs. "Y/n..."

"What?" Y/n demanded.

"Oswald has been missing since yesterday. No one's seen him since the interview he ran out on." Y/n went pale. "We'll get on it, I promise, but he's missing." Jim went to step forward to bring some comfort to the handcuffed boy who had obviously been through a lot for it to have all happened in just one day, but Y/n jerked away.

"What are you going to do with me?" Y/n barked. "Jail or release? I need to get out there and do your guys' job for you, and if I have to break out it might take some time."

Jim's eyes widened. "Y/n-"

"Jail or release, Gordon? Tell me. NOW!"

It was quiet for a second. "We're sending you to Arkham." Y/n's jaw went slack. "You've spent all night with Jerome, and you're a close associate with Penguin, who's a known murderer."

"You don't have any proof that I-"

Bullock was suddenly very close to Y/n's face. "Look me in the face and tell me you have never killed a man. That killing wasn't part of your little escape from jail plan? That if we release you you won't turn around and go after whatever the cause of Penguin's disappearance and kill them too? Tell me that you don't agree with the way Jerome thinks and does things. I'll let you go."

Y/n felt rage. Rage like nothing else. Like he hadn't felt in a long time. Oswald has taught him how to control and hone that red feeling that had once seized him. Usually he could cultivate it into a weapon. Now... now it was freely causing havoc inside him again and he wanted to scream. "You wanna play friend but then keep me from helping the people I care about." Y/n spit in his face, causing the older man to jerk away, wiping it off. "Fuck you, Bullock."

Bullock looked at Gordon. "He didn't say it."

Jim nodded his head. "I can't believe you tried to escape and attack Commissioner Gordon right in front of me, Y/n."

"What-?" And then Jim punched him in the face and everything went black.

When Y/n woke up, he was in a different room. Similar but obviously not the same. He sat up and looked down to see that he was in a prison jumpsuit, but it was black and white striped instead of orange. Fittingly, the room he was in was grey cement and bare, with a bed that he now lay on, another across from him, a small window slightly above him, and steel, black bars instead of a door. Was this Arkham? It wasn't as bad as Y/n had thought- at least as far as living conditions went. There didn't seem to be rats or bugs or leaking. He could get used to this.

The door opened. "Ah and how lucky for you to be awake just in time for lunch." It was an officer that Y/n didn't recognize. The man was much older and seemed to be annoyed even as he smiled. "You've been out for a whole day. Didn't think you were gonna make it." Y/n got the sense the guard was disappointed he had.

Standing silently, Y/n followed as the guard motioned him. He was unsure of how this place worked, so he moved tentatively. Calm but ready. Standing to his full height, eyes moving carefully as he stayed aware of his surroundings. His face was a sort of collected calm and he moved slowly at first, only speeding it up when the guard shoved something in his back. Probably a baton.

The two men ended up in a large room at the end of the hallway which was filled with tables that had benches attached to them. "This is the Big Room," the guard told Y/n lazily. "You eat here mostly, but you can go here for free time too, unless you want to stay in your cell." There was a door that lead into the Big Room. It opened loudly, causing every eye to be drawn to the two new people entering. "Good luck," the officer purred. "You seem like a calm one. They eat calm ones up in here." Then the officer stepped back and the door closed and Y/n was alone.

He looked around the room for an open seat, suddenly feeling like he was in high school again. He didn't have a clique. He didn't have somewhere to sit. He didn't know how this system of people worked. What if he sat with the wrong person and literally got murdered? Was there a chance the guards cared about the inmates enough to save their life? Y/n doubted it, if the guard from earlier was any indication.

Thoughts were cut off as an excited, "Y/N!" sounded. The called boy looked over to see red hair and a ginormous grin. Instantly Y/n switched gears, a smile of his own rising to his face. Jerome threw his arm over Y/n's shoulders. The Wayne boy tried not to get too giddy about the gesture as the redhead moved back to the table he must have been sitting at before Y/n came in. "You know I didn't think you'd end up in here too. Does that make you crazy after all?" He snorted, obviously amused by the idea of either of them being unsound of mind. Or maybe that was just another Jerome thing. Perhaps he just found insanity and instability funny.

"In the eyes of the people," Y/n answered.

Jerome tittered excitedly. "We're gonna have so much fun! They're so quiet and dull, I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't come."

"You're a clever man, J." Y/n's voice was solid, even as his eyes were trained to Jerome and his smile was so wide it already hurt. "I'm sure you would have thought of something."

Someone scoffed. "Are you flirting with him?"

The man was big- both wide and tall- and bald. He looked scary, and also like an idiot. He had that simple minded vibe. Like he could hit, and that's all he could do. Not that it invalidated just how good he could hit though...

"What if I am?" Y/n met the man's eyes directly. He felt a surge of confidence with Jerome next to him.

Jerome hooked Y/n's chin as the men stared each other down. "Eyes on me now, doll." He winked and Y/n relaxed, smiling. "What are we gonna do first?"

Y/n rose an eyebrow, smirking in amusement. "What is there to do in a prison for the criminally insane?"

Jerome laughed. It suddenly cut off and the redhead was invading Y/n's space significantly. "Your imagination is the limit, really."

Y/n suddenly had a very active imagination. He cleared his throat but didn't move his gaze from Jerome, even though he wanted to. He could feel his face on fire and he wanted to shift away. Give himself space to breathe. It was very hot and it was becoming burdensome and annoying. Y/n had never once been this attracted to a single person. He'd had crushes- which is how he knew he was gay- but nothing serious. Nothing commanding and controlling. Why now, when he was most sure he never wanted to feel this way? Why here, when he was locked up and his best friend was missing after being betrayed by his love? Why now when Y/n should have been most against romance and most focused on finding Oswald and making sure his friend was okay, was he so smitten by this psychotic redhead?

Fuck it. Y/n wasn't getting out anytime soon- what was even the point of anything other than just giving in?

"I could think of a few things." Someone groaned, but Jerome's grin was enough to chase Y/n's shame away completely.

"Maybe I could pull off something special for you," Jerome mused. "Just once."

Looking away finally, Y/n sat down. "I heard it was lunchtime. Maybe we could start there." Jerome plopped down, eagerness unperturbed. If Y/n was being honest, his own enthusiasm was also unfazed. He didn't know what Jerome was thinking, but he was down for whatever. As long as it involved any single one of the things he was currently thinking about.

Y/n didn't expect Jerome to get it planned and done so soon.

It was dark and Y/n lay in his bed, looking at the ceiling. The guard had told him he'd be getting a roommate eventually when they were sure of how stable he was and how capable he would be and with who and blah blah blah blah blah-

For all their talk about safety, Y/n was only minority surprised to see the door open only to reveal Jerome Valeska strolling inside, the door closing behind him. "Miss me?"

Y/n grinned, chuckling softly as he rolled his eyes. "You're my cellmate?"

"The one and only." Jerome moved closer then seemed to hesitate and moved away instead. He went to the other bed, plopping down and crossing his legs before laying back, his hands behind his head and his smirk wide and charming. "You're quite interesting, Y/n. Are you aware?"

Y/n shrugged. "Not really."

Jerome narrowed his eyes, not smirking anymore. He obviously didn't like to be contradicted. "Why not?"

"People usually prefer my brother," Y/n explained casually, settling back down in his bed as Jerome had. When Jerome didn't speak up again, Y/n continued. "I guess he's more responsible and put together. He's gonna make it in the world, and it's nice to see such motivation in such a young lad." The last sentence he said each word with dripping sarcasm. "He's a genius and he's driven and I'm... Y/n Wayne. My parents were cool, don't get me wrong, but everyone's made it perfectly clear that Bruce has always been and always will be the preferred brother." Y/n looked over to Jerome smiling, only for it to drop upon seeing Jerome's expression. "What?"

Jerome stood. He moved with that same fluidity, except now it was very intimidating. Less like a showman and more like a predator stalking its prey, getting far too close for comfort. "I know what you mean. Younger brothers are the worst." His tone was dark now, and low. He lips turned up but it seemed in a sneer rather than enjoyment.

"You have a younger brother?" Y/n asked, sitting up in surprise.

Jerome's jaw worked. He looked at Y/n, moving close as he usually did. Invading Y/n's space as always. "Are you and Bruce twins?"

"I'm two years older," Y/n answered immediately. "Why?"

"Jeremiah and I are twins." He shook his head. "Now I'm bored. Entertain me, Y/n."

Y/n was suddenly breathless as Jerome lay down, spread out on Y/n's bed. Y/n swallowed, moving to hover over him. He usually topped, but this was Jerome Valeska. Y/n had thought... this would have gone differently, at least. "Undo the jumper," Jerome commanded evenly. Y/n obeyed, dragging the zipper down. Jerome kicked off the cheap shoes he was wearing as Y/n tugged the jumper down. Jerome lay in a muscle shirt and boxers. "Have you ever pleased someone else before?" Y/n nodded. "Men?" Y/n nodded again. While with Penguin, Y/n had had the pick of the litter. Anyone he wanted. He'd had a few, though they still didn't measure up to Jerome. "Consensual?"

Y/n swallowed. "I've had consensual sex with men before, yes."

Jerome rose an eyebrow, obviously sensing the bit of information Y/n was holding back. Thankfully he didn't push. Probably because he didn't want to damper the mood again. "Show me what you know, Sweetheart." So Y/n did.

Throughout the whole ordeal, every time Y/n did something Jerome didn't like, the older boy immediately corrected him. Y/n knew that what he was doing was good enough - he'd gotten people off plenty of times before - but Jerome seemed to be pushing Y/n's buttons. Being specific and picky and demanding. Seeing where Y/n's line was. How obedient he could be. There wasn't anything Y/n had refused to do thus far. Finally Jerome pressed his head back into the bed, his eyes closed and his lips parted. His fingers curled into Y/n's short hair and he spoke quietly, trying to not alert anyone outside who would stop them while trying to keep Y/n under control and finish at the same time.

Men were much easier than woman. It didn't take much to finish Jerome once he was there. He groaned very quietly, his breath hitching and his lower body pressing into Y/n's mouth more, where it had ended up. Y/n let him ride it out then swallowed, leaning back with a grin on his face.

"How was that?"

Jerome sat up, wiping something off the corner of Y/n's lip. He pressed his finger into Y/n's mouth, his smile widening when Y/n sucked it clean. "You're good. I expected you to be less experienced."

"I doubt I'm experienced as much as I'm a fast learner and really good at following directions." Jerome hummed before stretching then moving to redress. Y/n deflated. Jerome giggled when he saw Y/n's shoulder sag. "You want something too, hm?" Y/n swallowed, nodding. "Well, since you were a good boy..." Jerome motioned Y/n closer and the younger boy immediately stood. Y/n went to kiss him but Jerome jerked away. "None of that." His fingers found purchase resting around Y/n's throat. Not squeezing, but playing at the idea. "No distractions. I have to focus." He winked and forced Y/n to turn around, knocking the breath out of the dark haired boy's lungs.

Y/n had always known there was something almost intoxicating about Jerome. Addicting. His smile. The look he got in his eye- especially when he was horny, or when he was really into a joke. The way Jerome held Y/n or pushed or pulled him around. The raw charisma he had, that allowed him to grab a room and keep it completely under control. His easy attitude. His arms and hands and hair and lips. The way Jerome had demanded and kept Y/n's attention even when the boy was repressed due to trauma. Jerome was magic. He could do anything. He was good at everything. He was great at a few things too. Murder. Acting. Being true to himself. Carry out promises.

Fucking. Jerome was really good at that, too.

The boy was setting something off in Y/n and it seemed the more time passed, the less capable Y/n was of going back to the life he had, even just with Oswald. Everyone seemed so impossibly far, but suddenly Jerome was the only person that mattered. Y/n was falling and honestly, he didn't even care.

[jdmainman123]

Now about the rumor about sunlight City the beach doesn't make their own white hair babies what you guys have to understand the technology down there is is very technical when it comes to those steel towers and they're supposed to be ice box ice boxes

#Report so so we have to imagine the beach would be the coolest place in the world to live and in Satellite maker couldn't choose a second home and we always said wherever you were born the socialism you were dealt. Location location.

And we can't help acknowledge why why yacht fish and a lot of the boys and men I mean you got to be super intelligent to be your whole life really didn't want to be born and survive this far in this old boy should be really proud of yourself I'm just happy you guys could follow along with what I'm saying. The thing that I've noticed about these white hair boys and girls and a black hair white skins and and the tiny babies and three four all the older men right just babysitting the kids THEY WEREN'T UNABLE TO UNDERSTAND WHEN I WAS WRITING AND THAT'S WHY WE GOT A LOT OF TROUBLE DON'T SAY THAT YOU CAN'T TALK TO THEM THAT WAY and then I noticed one thing when I'm at home the auntie said that energy was they new who I was and when I was telling them stories they could relate BECAUSE OF LOCATION LOCATION NOT ONLY THAT OVER THE YEARS 2800 YEARS AFTER THE DATA BREACH I BECAME INFINITY AND I WAS EMBEDDED IN ALMOST A PART OF THEIR LIVES GROWING UP THEY WOULD HAVE KNOWN ABOUT ME FROM A LITTLE AGE

And that's the whole difference here me going around promoting it's a homeless Beach and it's very dangerous for people what's was my whole idea of while I'm here. BUT JUST THE EXCITEMENT OF ME COMING HOME AND ME BEING HOME AND THE PEOPLE OUT THERE BEING ABLE TO LAUGH MY GUESS IS BECAUSE LOCATION LOCATION RIGHT YOU THINK WE HAVE THAT MUCH IN COMMON I DON'T SEE MUCH DIFFERENCE BETWEEN US AND THE PEOPLE IN SNOW THE BOYS ARE IDENTICAL the girls one of us retarded one of them doesn't like showering and the other one doesn't know she's a mother

But but knowing me and being in the region working with these boys and girls again they would have seen my brother REMEMBER THE ANY ACT NO I'M IN HIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW I SWEAR TO GOD I'M IN HIS HOUSE RIGHT NOW HOUSE SITTING. NOW I GOT TO GET OUT OF HERE BEFORE HE GETS BACK but just the familiarity of me and and they couldn't really tell who I was and I was going to get money like a gypsy that robs people in the airplanes and the other airport SO I'M COMING HOME A TOTAL BADASS AND SAYING 30 DAYS OF SUNRISE AND TELLING THE JANITOR AT THE MCDONALD'S HE CAN EAT S*** TELLING HIM YOU KNOW WHAT I DROPPED MY DRINK ON THE FLOOR AND THEY NOTICE BEHAVIOR FROM ME TO HAVE BEEN PURPOSED BUT ALL I HAD TO DO IT ONE TIME IN LIFE AND WAS WARNED WITH INCIDENT AFTER INCIDENT AND IT TOLD ME NOT TO DO IT AGAIN BUT THE STORY ALWAYS STUCK IN MY HEAD. AND AND EVEN TIMES I SEE YOU BOYS AND ME OUTSIDE IMITATING. IN A TRASH CAN AND RUNNING BACK UP TO THE TRASH CAN PICKING IT OUT AND THROWING IT ON THE FLOOR. JUST TO PRETEND WE'RE BADASS AND THEN WALKING AWAY AND RUNNING BACK AND THROWING IT IN THE TRASH CAN. SO WE DON'T GET IN TROUBLE

But it would it would be the difference in when I'm when I'm at home and auntie seated language allowed me if I did I don't believe I could have written any of these statements by myself or originally it was something I came across in my language and that I wrote for myself as a personal personal archive but whoever invented this language definitely it was nothing that I said it was nothing that I found that interests you people WE WERE TRYING TO FIGURE OUT HOW THE INSPECTORS COME IN TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU GUYS DON'T HAVE ANY WEAPONS OF MASS DESTRUCTION THIS ONE HASN'T BEEN EXPLAINED AND THERE'S A FEW THINGS YOU GUYS HAVEN'T EXPLAINED

No we know their entire socialism department depends on the kids asking where are we REMEMBER ALL THE BLACK SKIN BOYS AND GIRLS GOT JOBS LIGHTS WATCHING OVER THE WHITE SKIN BOYS AND GIRLS. THEY'RE ONLY TOOL AND WEAPON WAS WHERE ARE WE REALLY? SORT OF LIKE PUSHES THE BOYS AND GIRLS OUT OF THE HOUSES FORCES THEM ON A PLANE TO OPEN A WINDOW AND LOOK OUT THE ENTIRE TIME

[daughter-of-flowers-divination]

🌱I have a dog named Zeek, a boyfriend named Jerod, and a passion for gaming, reading, and writing.🌱

💐Hello there flowers! I wanted to talk a little bit about myself: where I've been, what I've done, who I am, my tarot journey, myself as a reader. All to hopefully satiate your desire to know more about me, while also answering questions you may have. If you have any more questions email me! You can find my current email at the bottom of the page. There is also a Contact Me form with page labeled as such on my website too. Make sure you use the correct form on that page!

     Let's start with school. I used school as an escape from an abusive home situation. I felt great at school, because I felt wanted and good at something. That started to change when I hit sixth grade. I began noticing how other families behaved, how it differed from how I was being treated at home. I also realized not everyone was my best friend and I started to become depressed. On the bright side, I had just started band and was loving that. I played alto saxophone. Junior High was awful let's gloss over it. I was a band geek trying to be a cheerleader. It's also when i started developing an eating disorder. In high school i found my people in debate and forensics, which is basically structured arguing and the track and field of speaking and acting. I was awesome at it. I went to the state tournament many times and the national tournament three times as well earning top 60 of the nation in one of my events. In band, I was allowed to play the baritone saxophone. Google that instrument if you haven't seen it, and know that I am 4'11". It was a fun time. I even marched with it once. That was...not fun. I then also did improv my senior year, which was wild because my sister and I got to act together even though she was only in 7th grade. But it wasn't all fun. I started having panic attacks and more severe symptoms like hallucinations and suicidal ideation. I was told i "just had an overactive imagination" when I asked for help from an adult close to me. So helpful. I bit my lip and pushed forward graduating from my small high school with honors.

     These troubles continued into college. I wanted to be a teacher and an author, so I double majored in English and Secondary Education. I dropped Secondary Ed. after I couldn't keep up when my mental illnesses took over my life. I kept pushing on though. No therapy, just my almost-perfect (let's face it he sometimes farts on me in his sleep) boyfriend of now over seven years to keep me from killing myself, and a job working as a Debate and Forensics coach for a local high school. That job was one of the best I have ever had, but I pushed myself too hard and ended up in a short term inpatient psychiatric treatment facility for the first time. Then it happened four more times. I managed to graduate with my English degree and Primary Text Certificated with honors (Magna Cum Laude), and I believe this degree is part of the reason I can read the story in the cards so well. I'm trained in interpretation and creative thinking. During the time I was graduating, I also started to get incredibly sick. Turns out I have Hashimoto's Disease--which is basically hypothyroidism-- that wasn't diagnosed until December of 2018. I felt lost, and even more unsteady in my faith, so I began researching Wicca and witchcraft. I felt very drawn to tarot, but I didn't have the energy to start learning and I'd been told for the longest time that the cards were the devil (the devil is a really helpful guy if that's the case).

     After the fourth time of visiting an inpatient facility, I decided enough was enough and started paperwork to apply as a patient to a residential psychiatric facility on the east coast. Some of you may know what this rock bottom feels like, and heck that may be why you're looking at my website. You and I both know what it's like to look up at the afternoon sun from our beds and think, "there's nowhere else to go." But we were wrong. We can still go up. It's the only option. We can always go up from anywhere we are at in life.

     I got accepted for an evaluation, drove to Massachusetts, and got accepted for treatment May 6th, 2019. I stayed in residential for six months. It was grueling work. Not only was I away from my loved ones, but I was in therapy four times a week, surrounded by a group of people constantly, and pushing myself to attend dismal group therapy (I say dismal, because I'm just not really cut out for group work). Then I met Michelle. She was a patient for a little while that I was at this facility. She not only introduced me to oracle cards, but she gave me the push I needed to learn tarot. I was a facing a huge decision in my treatment as I had violated the patient agreement by seriously self-harming. Michelle could tell I was scared about the decision coming the next day and offered me an oracle card reading about the potential outcome of the administration's decision alongside what I can do to roll with it. The reading was scary accurate. She predicted the outcome and my best path forward flawlessly. I would get to stay at the facility for another five months, choosing to leave on my own terms. I would get a second chance at healing. That night I decided I wanted to be able to do that. I did not initially intend to read for others, but I did intend to add reading the cards to my therapeutic activities, because for the first time I saw strength in myself despite the abuse, the rape, and the death. I saw the cards as an amazing tool for self-improvement and healing.

     Michelle let me take one of the tarot decks (which I accidentally took the wrong one...its a "card game" but not tarocchinni the game that is actually played with tarot cards) that was in the patient run library in the main residential building on campus. I immediately started reading for myself, and was immediately hooked. I got (a few) more decks to work with, and as I became more proficient in tarot and oracle I began reading for other people. I even read for other patients and staff at the Halloween party the patient government puts on on Halloween. That was a ton of fun, and I hope to read in a setting like that again.

     Anyways, I left the hospital feeling immensely better in November 2019. I started reading cards for people on Instagram in December 2019, and well, here we are. I decided that I was capable enough to help improve people's lives and make a little money too. I still don't quite know who or what I believe in or how the cards work (the main contenders are nature, the fae, and our own higher selves); I'm still on my journey too. I'm a lifelong learner. Always have been, always will be. So don't be nervous if you haven't found your beliefs right away. It takes time.

     I do know that, as a reader (and person too) I take ethics very seriously. I have a whole section on my Disclaimers, Policies, and Ethics page for my reading ethics. I plan on creating an explanation video just on why my ethics are what they are, but for now there is a blog post about it. If you come to me with a question that violates my ethics, I'll work with you to make a questions that jives with my ethics while giving you the most benefit. Your questions (no matter where they start from) are the small rocks heralding an avalanche of understanding, of clarity.💐

--Taken from the About Me page on my website