#cause the thing is im not depressed im actually quite content with my life even with its down moments

[scarletiswailing347]

sometimes i see ppl praise nds for being passionate about their interests and just feel bad :/

[pinkspiraling]

please tell me what to do with my life!! please like actually if you have a second

last wednesday i came super close to quitting my job impulsively and i told myself that i could wait until the next wednesday to decide. and guess what tomorrow is wednesday so it’s time for you to decide for me lmao. here’s the pros and cons. firstly, i am super suicidal and have been since at least june. it’s been absolute hell and i have completely destroyed myself. a customer service job is draining me quickly and they have me do so much training i’m just sick of being so relied upon. they do pay me more than most starting jobs however (bc i’ve been there a while. and it’s starting jobs without experience so i could hypothetically get a new job that pays more). but also i have no intention to get a new job, i’m struggling so so much i don’t want to have a job until mid may (and that’s if i have to). here’s the other thing…my dad is a workaholic who makes crazy money and loveeeeessss to guilt trip his kids about how much he has sacrificed. basically if you’re not ambitious he doesn’t understand you and thinks you’re a piece of shit :) and i am not ambitious at all i just want to feel a crumb of contentment in this miserable world lol. if i take time off work i do think i should admit myself or go to rehab or something…at the very least therapy. so much has happened and i am so deep into addiction and depression i just know i need to step away from my surroundings. but i feel crazy crazy guilt about costing my parents that money and quitting my job and just expecting them to help me. they have the means to but my dad guilt trips us about money all the fucking time. last year he made a joke about how therapy should have fixed me by now. and now i’m not in therapy and i won’t go back bc i can’t afford it by myself and i can’t bring myself to ask them to pay for it even tho i know they would. there’s so much shame and fear in me and i am afraid it will make things worse. but i also feel like i genuinely won’t be able to keep working although i think that’s just my symptoms talking cause things are getting so much worse. maybe i am sort of agoraphobic now, but it’s so hard to leave my room like it doesn’t feel safe out there and i don’t have panic attacks but i do have crazy anxiety that is just overwhelming to face so id rather avoid it. idk if i’m agoraphobic or have avpd or bpd or something else cause i just feel like there has to be something else like something is really wrong. anyways, if i do quit, my family will be super confused and worried and think im a horrible lowlife piece of shit. i won’t argue with it but i hate that they will think of me that way and i am afraid. idk give me advice pls if you have any at all idk what to do but i’m too depressed to work i am barely surviving but idk if it’s worth it to be more insecure and ashamed bc of my family’s reaction

[krchar]

tldr: my extremely important opinions in researching The Mummy ships; Evy and Rick are a well deserved classics; i discovered Ardeth/Jonathan and nothing is the same now; Anck Su Namun is like shown as sassy but deserves a little better of acknowledgement

wow so do you sometimes procrastinate by looking at AO3 what are the popular ships for certain fandoms, cause i do

so i did for The Mummy bc everyone is hot there, so I thought it would be wild - but it is not really, it is just cool and my life is changed - so as for my research

firstly, it is kinda nice that a canonical and explicit ship (Evy and Rick) is actually so likeable that it remains popular and it actually remains far at the top and people quite rarely break it for other ships, and like Evy is our beloved cool nerd <3 and Rick could leave out carrying her around to shut her up, but he's at the end of the day a supportive badass + he's hot like Evy is as well and so is everyone else

BUT i found that Jonathan and Ardeth are quite a thing in the fandom, it is called Jardeth sometimes. a new horizon i tell you. and it's actually really funny and sweet, like the mysterious badass and the clumsy jester, and some content for it is so great omg.. so i know this for two days, but im already diving into a fluffy WIP series on ao3

the shippers often say the headcanons rose from interactions in The Mummy Returns, which i mostly remember as a very wtf movie, but i rushed through their scenes, so it is truth that Ardeth pays J quite a lot of attention, the authors probably wanted them to make friends at least, although there are not that many scenes in the end.. most of it would not have to be so clearly flirty, although they are quite touchy feely, but like, everyone is touchy feely there

but damn

that scene where they talk about weapon skills just doesn't make any sense omg - Ardeth actually approaches Jonathan, as r/e are fluffy and sad about their kidnapped kid and J stands a little aside - and like A looks at J and stands up and walks to him looking somewhat nervous really, or is it just my impression? he then asks J if he's good with a rifle that J meanwhile grabs, so the only other reason i thought of (other than like.. being generally interested in conversation but being shy.. maybe because of hots) is that he might have been worried what this disaster of a person would do later in the fight - that makes sense i guess, cause he asks about the rifle and later gives him some advice on killing mummies - and then J starts flexing wild, i guess it is still a little in character, but then he asks A about his skill with sword, and ARDETH STARTS FLEXING AS WELL , like even the advice is dramatic sassy flexing, like the always reasonable (apart from the plane scene) wise humble blahblah hero - he flexes by swishing the blade to J's throat so dramatically it is even stupid, and the look he makes thereafter, like he's sassy and dramatic, then when he finishes his stuff, he lets the blade down and kind of softens and nods and measures J amusedly, like seriously (edit p.s.: also J is weirdly nervous when he notices Ardeth at his side?? like before he even starts to speak? like they know each other for quite some time, they spoke quite casually even during this movie, what are you afraid of bro?)

the fun is it actually reminds me of that weird interaction between Aragorn and Eowyn before the battle, where he like should probably be supportive, but kind of flexes and puts her down a bit - Aragorn is def rather in love with Arwen and in fact Eowyn is a kid to him, but, talking just about filming language, it always seemed to me that in the movies they kind of suggested that he had a thing for Eowyn in a way, maybe just being depressed after the assumed breakup, but whatever - so this similarity is like.. really..? ok...

so like ..i get the shippers based on this scene of like less than half a minute

but like also other tiny moments change in that light hehe - like Ardeth being amused by Jonathan, being generally weirdly interested in each other's stuff etc.. i can see the point

otherwise, Ardeth is of course terribly hot, so he's also shipped with OCs and everyone else, but very popular is a threesome with rick and evy, so that would be quite a family

just a last note, Anck Su Namun deserved a bit better in the second movie i think, she is kind of badass and sassy, but she is really too much of a bitch and lets Imhotep burn, like, ok realistically it is natural to not react perfectly in such danger, but like, it is shown as a sort of betrayal, and like, yeah, they did the apocalypse, but in the first movie she and Imphotep felt kind of understandable in the backstory and i always felt like she was herself a victim of a terrible system that deprived her of free will and bodily autonomy, which she actually states with her last words - and i did not have very much of a pity for the pharaoh tbh - so like.. if they did not kill so many people, i'd actually root for them quite a lot (and they get an acceptable percentage on ao3, being only below e/r, jardeth, and e/r/a threesome)

ok... that was my rant

[tyhi]

How about 1,3,8, and 32?

thanks for asking!

1. how old were you when you found out you're autistic?

well i suspected/kinda knew a long time ago like when i was a teenager, but i didn't really take it seriously bc i didn't understand what it would mean for me at all. but i started seriously looking into it about 1,5 years ago and got an official diagnosis soon after that.

3. any comorbities?

i guess probably ADHD (though i feel the AuDHD combo might as well be its very own thing) plus maybe depression(i feel ok but it's complicated), brain fog, anxiety, I'm actually "out of the norm" on many personality test scores but not diagnosed with any (if i were it would be PDNOS)

in general i dont really think of myself as mentally ill anymore though. i don't suffer because of my mental health, even though I'm disabled and unable to work. maybe the anxiety does bother me a bit but it also keeps me on track in a way.

oh i also have hypermobility, POTS(self diagnosed) and autoimmunity (hypothyroid) which involves many food sensitivities, the likely root cause being mold toxicity.

8. special interests?

hmmm.... i don't have any that im currently really fixated on, haven't for a while, but some of my most recent(from the past couple years) fixations are still around in less-intense form: tarot and divination, spirituality and god, nutrition - thank god i had this one take over my life for a while bc that's the only way i could get my autoimmune disease in remission and I'm currently not on meds yeehaw.

gardening is an interest of mine, i have a large(680m2) community garden plot. this spring, before i could actually do stuff in the garden, i was pretty fixated on watching gardening content. now the garden is in full swing, im just focused on keeping it tidy(ish). doing more of a no-dig/permaculture type thing this year. grew my own tomato, chili and physalis plants for the first time. very exciting, even though they aren't exactly comparable to professionally grown plants, they're Mine.😍

sometimes i like to watch TES4 oblivion (video game) videos also cuz its a childhood favorite and i replayed it over the winter. i enjoy how thoroughly documented the game is lol ppl know every detail of how it works.

32. samefoods?

I eat oatmeal with crushed linseeds and buckwheat every morning. I set it to soak the night before for the phytic acid to get deactivated (that's what the buckwheat is for bc oats dont have a lot of phytase)

sometimes i add seeds and nuts, or vanilla extract hehe, or carob powder. i don't like it to be quite Exactly the same every day.

other than that, i eat a lot of lentils, sometimes just with oil+seasoning, sometimes i eat a lot of rice too. i love rice noodles (im gluten free so that's why those specifically.)

i tend to have short bursts of wanting a certain food every day. then i get my fill or its not on sale anymore or i run out and i move on. i think that's not exactly samefood but i feel like maybe it's like an AuDHD version of samefood.

[korasonata]

So, the original plan was to do these quotes until Joe and Cleo finished their models, which was half accomplished during this stream (yay Cleo!). Question is should I still continue these after Joe has finished his model, or have we had enough now? Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model stream part 7! Link to the video is below and time stamps are above each set of quotes!

Link: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1155955572

—

00:32:05

Joe: This is our weekly paper craft stream. I’m joined today by ZombieCleo, who you can find at—

Cleo: Hiiiiiiiiii!!!

Joe: — twitch.tv/zombiecleo. You don’t need to type the “hi” in the middle. Although it is adorable, and so I wouldn’t blame you.

—

00:56:25

Cleo (in response to someone saying they like Hershey’s chocolate): I mean you can like the chocolate. It’s ok to be wrong. It’s fine. You know, you can—

Joe: A certain amount of the other person being wrong is to be expected in any relationship.

Cleo: Yeah! Look at my relationship with you, Joe.

Joe: Yeah, I mean we’re— we’re off the charts for that.

—

01:01:15

Joe (changing into his chroma green tank top): We can’t have people seeing my torso.

Cleo: Oh you know, yeah you— you are a cryptid.

—

01:02:04

Joe (doing a face camera expansion): these chains I’ve forged in life are about to begin pulling me down to the deep below! Enter the Jhoooooooost!

Cleo: Can I just point out that “life” was very southern. At that point. (Heavy southern accent) Life.

Joe (heavy southern accent): Life.

Cleo: Laaaaaffe

Joe: Liiiiife *both laughing* These chains I’ve forged in—

Both: laaaaffe!!

Joe (heavy twang): Pullin’ me daaan to the deep behlooow!

—

01:07:16

Cleo (in response to Joe having a laughing fit): And that is one of the rare times where Joe has a complete, absolute giggle fit on stream

Joe (still laughing): Ok I’m sorry, but “puritans go home” is the best thing to put on anything worth— ok im gonna start making a— ok. (Serious) Im gonna start making an actual checklist cause, um, (actually writing down a checklist of things he’s taking to his parents for thanksgiving) ok thanks—giving twenty twenty—one. Ok so, salad cream.

Cleo: *wheezing*

Joe (reading list): “Puritans go Home” icing on pie…Um, you know let’s just throw iron brew in there. Why not! Irn-Bru and vodka!

Cleo (laughing): Sure! Why not!

Joe: Yeah. Well, so, my maternal grandmother was Scottish and—

Cleo: oh I’m sorry.

Joe: —so I think my mom would get a kick out of Irn-Bru. As like “oh! Here’s something from the old country!”

Cleo: *physically wheezing* from the old country!

—

01:29:43

Joe: Oh, it’s really fun. Did you know that a bunch of people on Tumblr care a lot about how tall each of us are?

Cleo: Yeah. Yeah.

Joe: Yeah, oh man I’ve been spreading information and taking weird height pictures with people at conventions for years. It’s like— *Cleo laughing* I’ll intentionally like stand on things or like, uh, or like stand in such a way that you can’t tell I’m crouching, so people are like “Ok, so Joe’s like taller than Bdubs but shorter than, uh, like— Stress or something. It’s like how does that happen?!” *trying not to laugh* Because I’m screwing with you.

—

01:31:11

Joe: See that’s the thing is— is sometimes people think things are about power. I think they’re just about being obnoxious.

Cleo: I mean, you think most things are about being obnoxious which is why it’s a power move for you. Cause being obnoxious is your power move. It’s where you’ve got the most power, Joe.

Joe: Hm, that makes sense.

Cleo: Sometimes I do. I try not to when I’m with you, because— it’s easier.

Joe: Yeah. You don’t wanna give me any actual like workab— or usable intelligence.

—

01:42:47

Joe (reading chat): I’ve been on Hermitcraft since season one— yeah. That was only like 10 years ago though.

Cleo: I’ve been on Hermitcraft since season 2.

Joe: Yay Cleo!

Cleo: Which was only because Joe asked me to come on, or pu— vouched for me.

Joe (genuine): Well I am glad you joined.

Cleo: I mean I was— I was at the point where I was just like “is this what I wanna do for the rest of my life? Should I just go full ham into teaching?” And, uh, then you made that offer and I thought “well, I’ll see how it goes”. And it did quite well for me. So…you know.

Joe (quietly): I am so glad

Cleo: You are the reason why I’m still doing Minecraft content.

—

01:44:19

Joe (reading chat): Attasked says “Only you can judge whether you’re hot” no plenty of people can tell I’m hot, Graved. It’s— pretty blatantly obvious. You don’t— you don’t have to be good at judging to be able to tell. Like, that’s not an only me thing.

—

02:00:54

Cleo: You ever have those moments where you’re just questioning your choices in life?

Joe: *having a breakdown* Moments!

Cleo: *cackling*

Joe (through tears): I’m sorry, you’re just the best Cleo.

Cleo: *laughing, but genuine* Awe, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to depress you today!

Joe: No it’s— *inaudible sobbing* Today—

Cleo: *dying*

Joe (quietly to himself): Is this is frame? Sorry, I was cutting this out of frame. My bad.

Cleo (still laughing): I like how everyone’s just sort of gone quiet and gone “…is Joe ok?”

Joe: nOO!!!

Cleo: We’ve established that Joe is not ok.

Joe: But I’m really good at it!

Cleo: *spitting out her drink*

—

01:49:52

Joe: Let’s go down the Mississippi, Cleo.

Cleo: I mean, that I think we could probably do. Let’s go down the Mississippi, Joe.

Joe: yay!

Cleo: On a flimsy raft.

Joe: Yeah, we can actually— there’s a lot nicer boats now though. Like—

Cleo: I mean— yeah, but do we— do— you know…it’s the Huckleberry Finn experience.

Joe: I mean, here’s the thing, is if you actually came here and I was like “Cleo, let’s go to the Mississippi River and go down the river a few miles”. I think you’d be more likely to actually say yes if I had an actual boat lined up than if I had a flimsy raft.

Cleo (excited): If it— if it— if it makes you feel better, I— I would do the flimsy raft. Like, hands down. It seems more fun.

Joe (realizing that she’s serious): I— you say that, but I don’t think you’ve seen the Mississippi River. Like, the problem is it’s full of these giant barges these days, the wakes of which would just throw your raft over.

Cleo (dead serious): I can swim.

Joe (attempting to compromise, completely lost as to how he has somehow managed to be the voice of reason): Ok…Alternatively we can go down a smaller river…In a raft…

—

02:04:43

Joe: Sorry, I’ll stop monologuing. Uh, but yeah sorry I was in the process of—

Cleo: I’LL STOP MONOLOGUING! Yeah, yeah that’s gonna happen.

Joe: yeah, I’ll- I’ll say I’m gonna stop monologuing and I’ll warn you that-

Cleo: And then he just continues

Joe: -that Cleo you should probably be ready to start talking sometime in the next 8-12 minutes.

—

02:15:26

Joe: Oh, I need to get a green screen suit jacket. Um, I realized. Cause I got the green screen, um, uh dress shirt. That I wear under existing suits, but I don’t have an actual like green screen suit.

Cleo: I— I am always amused by your definition of “need”

Joe: My definition of what?

Cleo: Need.

Joe: Need.

Cleo: I need a green suit.

Joe: Ok, I’m sorry Cleo, the people need me to get a green suit.

—

02:30:23

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe-Getters and Go-Getters” yeah, Joe’s not a Go-Getter, he’s a Joe-Getter. Which is infinitely worse.

Joe: You say being a Joe-Getter is infinitely worse, but you also frequently lament that you get me. So, maybe you’re a Joe-Getter. Have you considered that?

Cleo: I am a Joe-Getter. I do get you, Joe. Which is terrible. It’s— It’s a trauma, actually Joe, I’ll have you know.

Joe: Yeah, comprehend me and despair, Cleo.

Cleo: I looked too deep into the abyss. The Joe-byss, sorry.

Joe: Thank you, yeah we’ve got a brand. Always be branding.

Cleo: *giggling* A.B.B. - Always Be Branding.

Joe: That’s not an infinite void of despair. That’s an infinite void of—

Both: Joe’s despair.

—

02:34:31

Joe: Let’s just leave it at don’t push me off a roof. Like *laughing* I feel like anything I could add to that would undermine the overall theme of just encouraging people to not do that.

Cleo: Um, let me put it like this. I always had the capacity. Always. But! I never acted on it, Joe.

Joe: Mhm, yeah thank you.

Cleo: …yet…I’ll try not to.

Joe: Yeah. And— and also keep in mind Cleo, I mean, given, you know, how well we’ve managed to work together over the last decade. Even if you did push me or throw me off a roof. *grinning* What makes you think that you’re not coming with me?

Cleo (slightly proud): That felt like a threat. It felt like a threat. I’m not gonna lie.

Joe (through giggles): Yeah, that was the, like— I spent 90 seconds figuring out how to revise that so is it was not blatantly like a violent threat.

Cleo: I mean…yeah, I think— I think— I think between the tw— it— it’s a mutual aggression pact at this point.

—

02:51:53

Cleo (holding up seemingly two identical pictures of turret towers): Am I— am I going actually insane? Are they not…the same turret?

Joe (examining pages on screen): …y—you know there might be…subtle differences that, uh, a— you know, skilled crafts person would find unavoidably blatant. Um…I make no such claim Cleo.

Cleo: Good, because, you know…trauma…Yours, not mine.

Joe: *laughing* yeah I was gonna say. Trauma as a verb. I’m just gonna trauma you.

Cleo: *laughing* I’m gonna trauma you so hard right now.

Joe: Yeah, if you don’t calm down and agree with me.

Cleo: If you don’t agree with me, that’s— that’s your mistake.

—

03:38:48

Cleo (about authors): just be careful who you like and just recognize the faults in any media that you do like. Just don’t imagine that everything’s perfect, because it’s not. Just be open to the fact it’s not perfect.

Joe: The only perfect media is YouTube videos produced by ZombieCleo.

Cleo: Fact.

—

04:00:34

(Having finished her model)

Cleo (tiredly): No booshes. No booshes. I know it’s got places for booshes, but I don’t want to do booshes because…there’s a limit.

Joe (currently in the United States): Yeah. Well, now you can come over here and help me Cleo, is what chat’s saying.

Cleo: Ok.

Joe: Go help Joe hold this stuff he can’t glue.

Cleo (Currently in England): Hang on, hang on. *rummaging on desk* What do you need? I’ve got lots of things, what do you need?

[vampacidic]

throwing him right back atcha

sakuma rei the one and only ☆

• fave thing?

GRBRRGRRRRRR LIKE ALL OF HIM? LIKE ALL OF IT. particularly i really love the "oh i am jsut stupid and old :(" persona even though he completely knows what's going on. so fuckin true

• least fave thing?

can i say fans LMAO a lot of people do not like. get the point of him is that he's impossible to understand because he's so used to adapting himself to other people's expectations. ok in canon i am like. i don't know?? i think he should be pathetic more. that time he called tsumugi a cuck was kinda weird too

• favorite line

"is it that outrageous for me to want to live a normal life and be happy as a single human? am i arrogant for wanting to live my life for my own sake?" i literally can't tell you how fuckjng crazy crossroads makes me feel

• brOTP

i love his dynamic with the twins they're so cute... advising them so they don't end up like him and ritsu. crying sobbing

• OTP

reikao ☹️☹️ i've been obsessed with them for years at this point. also i'm quite fond of watarei + reishu i think they're cute. kanata can also be included as a treat. reikei is also fun i love them. i think i like just about every rei ship in some way

• nOTP

i have a very very VERY specific reikoga dynamic i will accept and it is almsot never present in fanon content so i do not LIKE IT. i love their canon dynamic though. also shout out to tanpopochans on twitter they get it (it's also really funny when you read doujins when they were written because of how they write the dynamic)

• random headcanon

he's always cold so he either has 68 layers on or he clings to his friends like they're a space heater. this causes everyone to think he's dating his friends (he's not he's just a freak and really physically affectionate)

• unpopular opinion

i think i'm the only one who understands him OKAY but actually. i think he's unsexy. he's sexy in an unsexy way yknow. sexy in a 'i want to take care of him when he's sick but i would not have sex with him' kinda way

• song associated

hmmm i have a couple. 'in my room' (insane clown posse) came from an edit of him i saw once so whenever i listen to it im just like oh like rei. 'all dolled up' (the orion express) doesn't really have anything to do with him in canon just my own personal interpretation. 'don't threaten me with a good time' (p!atd) is a 2nd year rei song because i said so

• favorite picture

you get 2 as a treat. number one is rei autism creature i drew when i was feeling depressed number (featuring anzu) two is just one i very much appreciate

[cherryronpa]

i don’t tend to post stuff like this here - i try to keep my art blog a happy environment. but i do feel like i do need to talk about my burnout somewhere where it’s more difficult to ignore. if you’re just here for the pretty picture, here it is. the talk about my burnout and mental health, however, is under the cut (be warned, there’s talk of burnout, depression, and suicide)

i hold a pretty privileged position not really bestowed upon many danganronpa fans - i have an audience of 22.5k subscribers that grows steadily by dozens every day, near-guaranteed 10k+ views on new videos so long as youtube censorship isn’t throwing one of its characteristic shitfits, and dozens of die-hard fans. i should be at the top of my game.

and yet i feel burned out. 

i feel like i’ve only produced 5 “real” videos over the course of the year. youtube’s algorithm demands constant uploads, however i cannot sustainably upload analysis videos every week; it’s quite literally impossible. scripting takes time, voiceover takes time, editing takes a LOT of time (like, 60-70% of a video’s creation time is the editing). i can’t put out my videos weekly, and the youtube algorithm doesn’t appreciate that and shunts my videos if i disappear for more than a week - so i tend to intercut giant videos with tiny little memes that take maybe an hour to produce. they do cause the main video to take a little longer to produce, but miniscule amounts (like, maybe an extra 3-5 hours per large video). 

however i’m starting to become more known for these little cursed skit videos that i put zero thought and maybe one effort into, rather than the analysis or rewrite videos i pour my heart and soul into for several weeks at a time. every single analysis video i’ve put out has turned up less and less views, even if it’s a video that the algorithm and youtube should be promoting to high hell (eg. i feel like a video where I rank every trial in Danganronpa should be a video Youtube promotes the hell out of to anyone with danganronpa as a recommended topic). it makes me wonder why i even bother at all to analyse this series i love and to share that love with the world, when simply making surface-level tithes that return the same 6 comments over and over again seems to be the appeal. 

even with a description talking about the burnout and my frustration with the situation, most people didn’t even read it. even some of my own friends didn’t until i pointed it out. 224 comments, and maybe 3-4 actually talk about the description and what i described. the rest are the same jokes everyone else already said 30 times, and even i don’t find them funny anymore.

people’s advice doesn’t seem to work either; “i appreciate your analyses!” and “you should focus on what you want to make!” are indeed people trying their best to make me feel better. but the truth is, when i do make what i want, i don’t see the results i want. trying to get an analysis video to break the views in a week that a dumb little meme video gets over two days is consistently heart-wrenching to watch. ‘i appreciate your analyses’ is a very much minority opinion - the majority of people who watch my content do not care about them. and to watch weeks of your work essentially go to waste over and over again, once again, makes me wonder why i’m even bothering. 

it’s very clear i’m at a stage where i can no longer relate to my general audience. the advice provided is rarely from the standpoint of someone who actually goes through what I do. it’s a very much privileged problem to go through, i don’t deny that - but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a problem. no amount of “oh, the youtube algorithm/the fandom is just horrible, you keep being you!” is going to actually FIX the issues. i know the youtube algorithm is horrible, i have to actually deal with it censoring my videos constantly. telling me that youtube or the fandom are screwed up just annoys me now - despite my atrocious memory problems, it’s one of the few things i do actually remember.

i’ve watched my mental health take a nosedive over the course of the year, and i’m sure this would’ve happened even without COVID-19. where i was once almost completely able to cope with my depression and anxiety and it was rarely ever a problem, where i once believed i did in fact have worth, the recent months have caused me to spiral right back into that depression. even though im at the most successful i’ve ever been, i feel completely worthless because that success is built on the literal scraps i throw off the cutting room floor rather than the videos that receive my honest love, my honest thoughts, and the time that i wanted to give them. i wanted the fandom to see just how amazing these things either were or could have been. instead the fandom is more interested in exclusively characters swearing or whatever cursed bullshit my manic-depression-addled brain decides to create when it opens vegas pro and slams its fists against the keyboard.

that mental health slip has not only put me back in severe risks for depression, anxiety, and stress, worse than they’ve ever been, but it’s returned me to suicidal thoughts. the anxiety of the future of my channel, the anxiety of losing interest in danganronpa over this and this entire year having built up to absolutely nothing, have made me seriously question if i might take my own life. i do have something that will likely stop me from doing so, but i’m not comfortable revealing what it is, and i likely never will be.

i apologise if anything harsh or harmful was said - i really am grateful for what i have, and that’s why this all feels so selfish. i’m not grateful enough for what i already have - despite knowing i should be.

[calangkoh]

You think ed would've traded himself for al at the end if al hadn't successfully brought HIM back just before? When his only prior knowledge of what the attempt would yield was the homunculi (who he was trying Really Hard to know as monsters and nothing else)? I mean, yeah he couldn't face life without al and an end to their journey where mom was dead twice over and his little brother gave himself for him and hey lil kicker is ed has all his lost limbs that he never really cared about returning in the first goddamn place. But would he have basically tried to kill himself in this SPECIFIC way if he himself hadn't been resurrected, albeit with the use of a Philosopher's Stone ie thousands of human souls concentrate versus his Literally Only One?

Like what was going on in his head, that he was able to after sloth? Did he fear bringing back his younger brother as a homunculus like their older brother long before them? On the other side of the gate, not knowing if Dante is still out there, if roy killed pride or died trying, if his attempt worked and al returned, did he ever worry that al might have returned or if Ed had brought another homunculus into his world in his place?

I hope im understanding your ask correctly. Suicide tw regarding Ed’s final sacrifice.

If Ed had not died and so Al had not brought him back and was instead used successfully by Dante (whichh eugh horror story right there, i rec’d a Bad End dark horror fic a while back about if Dante succeeded and tbh I think its the most plausible outcome as fucked up as it is) then i quite honestly think Ed is completely doomed. (This isn’t just me being angsty, this is legitimately what I think would happen, like, logically.)

He’s traumatized beyond all hell and the situation is not in his favor: he’s a wanted criminal blamed for everything in Liore and he definitely blames himself as well, his worldview has come crashing down and even if he had that resolve of “even if its not true ill still believe that hard work and suffering pays off” in London, it would be blown to bits as soon as he finds out Al is gone, and that he failed him, and his last moments with his brother were them fighting each other on killing Sloth. Envy is also there, and can overpower a distraught Ed with ease. Any taunts that didn’t work on Ed in the original fight scene would probably be very effective. And Dante is there in Rose’s body because Ed failed her, too.

Al would have been turned into a Philosopher’s Stone, so Ed’s only shot is getting his hands on that. But again, if he fights to get a hold of it, he’s fucked. Dante and Envy combined and with Envy’s “im Hoe’s son” reveal still in his back pocket I think Ed would get killed before he could do anything with the stone.

Hypothetically if he got the stone, I don’t think separating Al is possible (assuming Al’s soul is even There) and I like to think Ed wouldn’t throw out all the lessons he just learned and use it anyway. No matter how broken he is he still has grown up a lot and I don’t think he’d backtrack on his conversation in the car about not using the stone. I think he would drive himself crazy trying to figure out how to get Al back, but because of his growth throughout the series he’d eventually accept the shitty outcome and move on. In CoS, he was left without any closure on his brother too, and he was hella depressed but still surviving. In this scenario he’s at least in Amestris with tons of people who love him and who will advocate for his innocence and help him process his grief like he has never been able to properly before.

So with this hypothetical situation where he gets away from Dante and Envy and is able to defeat them, no I don’t think Ed would do what he did in the OG end (sacrificing himself to bring Al back) if Al had not sacrificed himself for Ed. Mainly because I like to believe Ed has grown enough to move on and that there’s still hope for him even in this sucky scenario, and the circumstance in the og to cause him to NOT do that were just...very specific.

So why Ed makes the decision to die and not accept death despite his growth: the crucial part in my opinion is that Al sacrificed himself and used the stone (and Ed was successfully brought back). Both things they agreed they’d never do. I can only speculate exactly what was going through Ed’s head, beyond what he tells the audience (“this might not work but i have to at least try”). I think Al proved human transmuation is possible under the right circumstances (a body, the soul not having completely left yet, and a proper payment). So Ed knows it’s possible, and is willing to sacrifice everything, even if it goes against his development of accepting death and loss and not fighting the flow of the world because it causes harm when you selfishly pursue what you want, because Al had gone against everything they learned as well. And Al is Ed’s moral compass and everything he does is for Al.

If Al died, Ed would not do something morally questionable (sacrificing himself or someone else, defying the flow of the universe and turning your back on the world and the consequences of your actions to get what you want) to bring him back. But since Al himself did something morally questionable that even Ed would disagree with and say is wrong (which btw I bet Ed was like “shit how badly did i fuck up my little brother to make him do something like that”), I think standards are out the window and Ed is really just gonna pull the uno reverse card since Al played dirty so he’s gonna play dirty. At least that’s how I personally interpret Ed’s decision.

Ed also in general has a LOT to blame himself for in that moment, including EVERYTHING that happened to Al. So...I don’t think he’s thinking clearly enough to truly consider the possibility of making a homunculus. He really intended to die there and was content with the possbility of failing. It WAS an act of suicide imo (because honestly...how was he going to live with himself at that point...everything that happened to him and to al he could easily justify as his fault. he was well aware that sacrificing himself could amount to nothing but was fine with dying), just with an excuse that he might get something out of it.

I don’t think he ever considered that he made a homunculus, because he says he saw Al’s body get put together at the gate and I’m just gonna assume he saw the soul as well with how he worded it as “put together.”

You can also argue that by going through the gate three times by that point (and two of those times just recently) he had extra knowledge and more control over the transmutation to make it successful.

Or you could say my conspiracy theory that Al at the end of the series/CoS IS a homunculus that was just made really really well djsjd but that’s something I refuse to actually believe and I doubt the writers want us to believe that.

I hope I made sense and that I answered your question! This was a fun think piece here.

[sadsapphicslut]

chapter one - original story (i havent come up with a title yet lol)

okay so here it is!! if anyone actually reads this i love u :) please leave feedback if u have any!! 

TWs:

death, drugs, medication, mental illness, references to sex, swearing, alcohol

wordcount: 8.2k

(also i dont think anyone will but im paranoid of people stealing my writing so obligatory dont copy/post to another site or steal my work in any other ways etc)

There were five of us; 4 boys and me. In hindsight I realize from the outside our group probably seemed a little predatory, but it was never really like that. For the most part they were like brothers to me. Of course, being the only girl in a small and isolated club of mainly older boys, things were bound to happen. We were in high school and it was summer, can you blame me? Regardless, however much I loved them, it was not quite in the way my father always assumed or my mother always warned (during our uncomfortable monthly visitations before I managed to get rid of her for good).

The months everything went down, which I often referred to only as ‘The Worst Summer of My Life’, (quite melodramatically but not without reason) were somehow still full of the best moments of my life. Moments I often find myself wishing I could repeat, as nothing has or will ever come close to the way I felt, sitting amongst my boys day after day, somehow light as the warm July breeze that blew past us. My entire body weightless, as non-existent as the time that passed us by. Despite the depression I’d found myself plunged into during the days after my only brother’s death, I truly believe I will never again be as happy as I was then. Laughter seemed to flow freely from our mouths, smiles plastered onto our faces no matter the circumstances, content to just exist. I don’t think I can ever forget the day it was raining so hard the entire city was flooded, but we walked around uptown well past the point of being absolutely drenched, our clothes dripping so heavily the security guard denied us entry into the public library. Something about that day made me feel so free, like we were invisible. Completely apathetic to the whims of the real world, somehow existing only in our twisted minds and intertwined fantasies.

Maybe if I’d had my head screwed on a little tighter, or if we’d met under different circumstances, it wouldn’t have ended the way it did. I used to go down that line of thought every night before succumbing to a fitful but heavy sleep (under the direct affect of 25mg of Quetiapine, working to counteract my Concerta and Lexapro). Those types of irrational thoughts were ones my therapist deemed as my habit for rumination. In regard to the death of my brother she called it ‘bargaining’, one of the stages of grief. I never liked it when she spoke about those stages as I’ve always felt them to be wrong. Maybe because I never quite moved on to the final one, no matter how many years pass. ‘Acceptance’, coined as the “Re-entrance to reality”. Maybe it’s different since I was never really grounded to reality in the first place. I still wake up some mornings, thinking I’ve heard his voice in the other room, ready to beguile me with tales from his day of retail work. Other times I swear I’ve walked past him on the street. Some people may relate to my experiences, with reasonings of ghosts, angels, apparitions, or insanity, among many other causes for the apparent viewing of a loved one long gone to the other side. I never shared these beliefs, but I am not one to deny. Rather, I always take these instances as an omen. A warning. I have come to this conclusion not without evidence, at least circumstantial, given the many occasions over the years – and especially that summer – where I found my hypothesis to be true. All I can say is that I am glad I’ve never been met with the same chimerical visions of my mother; one can only hope that is because she ended up where she belonged. Maybe I’ll see her there, though I hope at the very least they could keep us in separate rooms of Hell if the situation does arise.

From what I know of the others now, which is admittedly not much – majorly due to my own neglect, as opposed to theirs – they share the same prescription for rose-coloured glasses as I. We always were too engrossed with our own romanticization of nostalgia and sentiment that it clouded our view. I often think this was one of the reasons we seemed to fit so well together. Not quite like puzzle pieces, too self-absorbed to hold a candle to that analogy, more like complimentary colours. I wish it could’ve stayed the way it was. We did try, and I never found myself able to fully disentangle myself from James, nor he could to I, but for most of us we could recognize an ending when one arises. I used to find myself using the word tragedy a lot while reminiscing, but I no longer think that word is appropriate. Fate is a more fitting term in my opinion, regardless of if one believes in it or not. “(A)n inevitable and often adverse outcome, condition, or end,” as reported by Merriam Webster. I don’t think there’s a word in the entire English language more accurate in describing how everything ended up; and if there is, I am yet to find it.

  Chapter One

A Dead Brother

          I have tried to erase the day my brother died from my memory so many times I lost count decades ago. I still find the image seeping into my unconsciousness quite dreadfully on the nights I neglect to take my pills and catch myself waking up with a steady flow of tears that dampen my pillow along with the drool that always seems to pour from my sleeping mouth. The dread that pools in my stomach sometimes being heavy enough for me to lose my lunch. I frequently wonder how people managed to reassure me that it wasn’t my fault; the most painful lie I’ve ever been told and one that seemed to stream from people’s mouths as easily as the mini sandwiches laid in the living room of my brother’s wake were stuffed in. The worst part about being told it wasn’t my fault was how obviously one could tell they didn’t believe what they were saying either. His death was my fault; a fact so uncontestable I wanted to kill myself every time I was reminded of it.

           My therapist often tried to remind me that even if his death was “partially” (she always used the word partially, refusing to acknowledge the truth that his death was entirely my fault) my fault, there was nothing I could’ve done to prevent it. This was another lie I despised being told. There were a million ways I could have prevented his death or saved his life and yet, here we are, with him dead and me wishing everyday that I won’t wake up tomorrow. “Begonia,” she’d tell me – she was the only person who called me by my full name, I usually went by Nia, but a nickname felt too personal and I didn’t like her very much – “You mustn’t keep torturing yourself with these scenarios. He’s dead, and there is nothing you can do to change that. I am starting to wonder if you are going to let yourself move on. This isn’t healthy.” That was a line she liked to use a lot, “this isn’t healthy”. As if anything I do is.

           Barb, my therapist that is, liked to go over the details of my brother’s death a lot. She often called it a ‘trigger’, which is why she always seemed to want me to talk about it. “Trauma is a horrible thing, Begonia, and you must learn to move past it, process it. I can see you still haven’t managed to do that on your own, and that’s what I’m here for, to help you move on.” Barb was big on the idea of  “moving past trauma” and “learning to cope”, she often sounded like a broken record of a motivational speech. I found myself comparing her to school guidance councillors without realizing it, they were about equally as helpful (read: not helpful) in my opinion.

           Sometimes I blame my inability to forget and “move past” my brother’s death on the way Barb constantly brought it up and made me go through it. I never quite understood how that part of my therapy was supposed to help me. I asked her once, what good was it doing rehashing the worst day of my life?

           “Well, Begonia,” I hated the way she said my name, always so condescending and sour, like even the idea of me questioning her in any way was as impolite as shitting on her desk.

“You have to understand that I only want to help you. You seem to be unable to process your traumas on your own, which is why we need to go through these things. As you are aware, this PTSD,” she always left strange pauses after each letter, her slow tone grinding on my ears, “you have acquired has left you unable to function normally in daily life. I want you to get to a place where you can have a normal life (Ha!) and cope without these meetings. It’s what your brother would’ve wanted.” Barb liked to tell me what my brother would have wanted at least once every session. Putting aside the fact she knew next to nothing about him aside from the intimate details on how he died, I always thought it was an inappropriate thing to say as a psychologist specializing in grief counselling. It never particularly bothered me, I was reasonable enough to realize she was just trying to comfort me, but I never liked the phrase. “What your brother would’ve wanted.” What he would’ve wanted was to not die but we’re past that, aren’t we Barb, as you so often enjoyed telling me.  

I have always been quite averse to my diagnoses, ADHD at 14, Persistent Depressive Disorder at 15, PTSD at 16, issues with alcohol and drugs that landed me in rehab more than once. I’ve been on a concoction of different medications since I was 13, even before I was diagnosed with anything officially. Sertraline, Lexapro, Prozac, Ritalin, Concerta, Adderall, Quetiapine, Ambien, Zopiclone, a healthy mix of off brand and branded medications. Sleeping pills, antidepressants, stimulants. I can’t remember a time before monthly trips to the drug store and side effect surveys that I’m not sure if I ever told the truth on. It’s a wonder that people didn’t see a slew of addiction issues coming from a mile away.

I think I’ve always had the most contention with my PTSD diagnosis though, I hate it because I know it’s undeniably true. I wish it wasn’t because maybe that’d mean my brother was still alive, but he isn’t. And I’m left traumatized and bereaved. Sometimes it feels like it hurt me more than it ever did my mother or father. Maybe it did. I should feel selfish for saying that, but I can’t, because they didn’t have to look at him while the life left his body, praying to God for the ability to turn back time. See the moment his eyes glazed over, knowing I’d never get to hear his obnoxious laugh, or make fun of his dumb face ever again.

  ❈

             “Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.”

It was a cool evening in May, the end of spring brought with it the promise of summer and the air had the familiar aroma of daffodils and petrichor. I had decided to go to a party with my friend Faun, my dad having been out at his girlfriend’s place for the weekend and me having nothing better to do. I wasn’t one for partying, but I did like to get high, so I usually just hung around with the rest of the potheads and pill junkies until someone dragged me home or I fell asleep. That night Don, a friend of a friend of a friend, had brought coke and E and we were all determined to get as fucked up as possible. Faun only ended up doing one line before running into a bedroom with some guy whose name started with an M – was it Martin or Marvin? Maybe it was Mickey – and left me sitting on the couch beside a girl who was about 1 more shot of vodka away from passing out.

I had fully intended on doing some coke, but the E seemed to be hitting harder than I was used to. I was sure my Ritalin had worn off by then but maybe I was wrong. As I stood up to get a glass of water I nearly fell over and decided to sit back down. Turning to face Don, I tapped him on the shoulder trying to get his attention.

“What was in that molly?” I was vaguely aware of the way my words were slurring, but I felt weirdly energized. I was aware my heart was beating a little too fast, but I couldn’t concentrate on anything. I knew what ecstasy felt like, this was not nearly my first time doing it, but I felt really wrong.

           “Don!” He turned to look at me and I felt uneasy. His eyes looked a little crazed – not that out of the ordinary but given the circumstances I was worried – “What the fuck did you give me?” It felt like I’d done 5 lines of coke in the last 2 minutes and I knew that E had been spiked.

           Don’s face had an unmistakable expression of guilt written on it as he leaned down and whispered in my ear, his voice shaking, “I think it was cut with meth.” Fuck. My stomach dropped. I have to get out of here. I quickly shot up from the musty couch I was sat on, carefully holding onto Don’s shoulder so I didn’t fall, my legs still feeling unsteady. I opened my phone; the screen was too bright, and I had a hard time maneuvering it as I attempted to exit the house. Clicking the green Messages icon, I sent a text to Faun – e ws cut w meth im lesving – with shaky hands and burst out the door into the fresh air. I clicked my brother’s contact and pressed call.

           It rang four times before he picked up.

           “Nia? Why are you calling me it’s like 1am?” I could tell from the smooth tone of his voice he’d been drinking. He didn’t very often but he had an appreciation for cocktails and enjoyed getting buzzed now and then. He still was a year from being legal to drink but his friends we’re all 19 and 20 and bought alcohol for him. I found him fun when he got drunk, becoming talkative and giggly, but right now I wished so badly for him to be sober.

           “Ray, hey listen I need you to come pick me up.” I was slurring, my voice a bit too pitchy to pass as anything but high. I knew he didn’t like it when I did this, but he never ratted me out. Sometimes I wish he did, maybe I never would’ve been able to go to that party in the first place.

           I could hear a door shutting on his end, I assumed he was going into a different room. “What’s wrong?” My skin was bubbling with anxiety at the prospect of having to tell him what I did.

           “Fuck, uh… I did something stupid. I’m at Emily Goguen’s, y’know up in Champlain Heights. Please pick me up.” I rarely used the word please.

“Nia, what the fuck did you do?” I almost started crying but I found my eyes to be bone dry.

“Please don’t yell.”

“Okay, really, tell me what is going on or I won’t come get you.”

“I accidentally took meth.”

“You what? What the fuck, Nia! Fuck this I’m on my way and I’m fucking telling Dad.” I cringed but I knew he was going to before I even called. The pit in my stomach grew deeper as the buzzing of my skin grew stronger. I could feel myself getting higher, everything was so clear and standing around was making me grow restless. Ray huffed on the phone and I heard him entering his car.

His tone was softer the next time he spoke. “I’ll be there in 5, just stay put, please. Do you want me to stay on the call or can I hang up?”

I felt like a child, which I was really, only 16 at the time, a whole life ahead of me. Still, I was grateful for the way he spoke to me, reminiscent of being 6 and getting a scrapped knee after falling off my pink Razor scooter. The high made me edgy, and my voice was sharp to my ears, “No, you can hang up.” I heard the click to indicate he’d done just that, and started pushing my cuticles as I waited, the task somehow greatly interesting me, and I did not realize until later I had managed to pick off all of the skin around my pointer and middle fingernails during the five-minute wait.

 Ray pulled up exactly five minutes later in his ugly, blue 2011 Ford Fiesta he’d gotten the year prior after passing his driving test. What I wouldn’t do now to smell the inside of that car once again, a distinct attar of pineapple car freshener and Old Spice deodorant mixed with stale black tea, faintly present due to his ever-growing collection of empty paper cups from various different fast foods and coffee shops.

I stumbled into the car, feeling the strong impulse to clean the space, but attempting to push it down. From the passenger side overhead mirror I could see my blown pupils and sweaty forehead, pieces of my copper red hair sticking to my face. My freckles were showing through my concealer that had mostly worn off and I wanted to cover them back up. My skin was pale from winter (and probably the drugs in my system) but my cheeks were flushed like I was drunk. My high cheekbones made my face look gaunt in the lighting, but my face was wide which balanced it out, so I didn’t look completely skeletal. Ray was looking at me, the worry apparent in his eyes, but his face was flushed as well, and I could tell he’d been drinking a bit too much to drive. I had my license as well, but it was clear I was in no condition to take over on that front, so I didn’t bother saying anything. I wish I had. There’s a lot of things I wish. I wish I hadn’t gone to that party; I wish I hadn’t taken that E; I wish I called someone else; I wish I waited it out at Emily’s; I wish I walked home; I wish I took a cab; I wish I waited for Faun; I wish I wish I wish I wish I wish.

“Are you okay?” He didn’t take his eyes off me as I shut the mirror in front of me.

“Yeah, yeah I’ll be fine. Please just take me home.”

“Is Dad there?”

“No.”

“Maybe I should take you to Mom’s.”

“No!” I’d moved out of my mom’s completely just over 6 months ago, barely seeing her once a month. It was one of the best decisions I’d ever made. She never liked me much anyways, the feeling was entirely mutual. Ray seemed to have a close bond with her for some reason despite how she treated him like shit. I never called him out though, he no longer lived with her, so I didn’t really care what their relationship was as long as she wasn’t hurting him. She did treat him significantly better than me, however, so I figured maybe he managed to forgive her the way I never could.

“Okay, but I’m staying with you until Dad gets home. I’m not gonna lie to him about this shit. Fucking meth, Nia? Seriously?”

“It was in the molly.” He sighed and started driving.

 My brain felt like it was filled with butterflies, or ants, some kind of movement that was itching at my skull. The paper cups scattered around were making me anxious and I needed to clean his car. I began picking at my nails again, but I needed to pick up those cups, you see. I turned around and started gathering the ones Ray had discarded in the back, filling up an empty plastic bag from Best Buy. I was fully switched around in my seat, nearly crawling into the backseat to reach the trash my brother had left. I felt him tap my side, I looked over at him and he started to scold me.

“Nia, stop that will you, you’re distracting me.” But I needed to finish gathering the cups. The car was dirty, and my skin was itching, the traffic lights burning my skin. I was elated and I didn’t want to listen to him, he was just trying to get in my way. I continued to lean over, not registering the swerve of the car as he looked over at me.

“Nia – ”

He turned over to push me back into my seat, his eyes leaving the road for no more than a few seconds. This time I felt the swerve as we broke into the next lane.

 This is where I have a hard time piecing together what happened. From what I was told, we ended up running directly into a 2015 Dodge Ram 2500. In case you understandably have a lack of knowledge when it comes to cars, that is a very large, sturdy, and expensive pickup truck which I would probably consider the last vehicle you’d want to charge headfirst into while going 70km per hour. I don’t recall the actual incident of hitting the truck, whether that be from the drugs, the position I was in, or hitting my head on the roof of the car, I don’t know. What I do know is that when I woke up, we were in a ditch on the side of the road, with the car flipped upside down, and my entire body was screaming at me to Get Out!

I felt blood oozing sluggishly from my head and noted some indistinct pain in my right wrist where it had scraped something pretty badly and gotten twisted, but I otherwise felt alright. I couldn’t tell if the cloudiness in my head was from a concussion or the earlier events of the night, but I figured it was probably good I was awake, regardless of how dazed I seemed.

I turned my head to the left and was greeted by a view I will never be able to forget, it having been branded to the insides of my eyelids, scorched in my mind. Ray, with his left arm twisted in spectacular fashion, reminding me of Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, after Lockhart spells away Harry’s bones. My brother had always been squeamish with broken bones and I hoped he wasn’t aware of how his limb looked at the moment. His head was bleeding quite profusely, and I was alarmed despite how many times I’d heard in movies that headwounds bleed a lot. His eyelids were fluttering, irises appearing glassy and unfocussed. And then I saw it. A piece of glass was stuck in the left side of his neck. The windshield apparently had broken with the impact and my brother was lucky enough to get a piece lodged right in his trachea. It was thick, bright red blood –  that I could’ve sworn was sparkling in my current inebriated perspective – was gushing out the side, so heavy I could smell it, taste it, in the air. I was frozen once I realized.

Do something, do something! Put pressure on it! Call 9-1-1! My mind was screaming at me, but it was all I could do to sit and watch the blood stain his clothes. He was wearing the corduroy jacket I’d gotten him for his birthday and a white button up, the red seeped into them until it was as if they’d always been that colour. My voice was caught in my throat, but I managed to push some sound past.

“Ray?” It was weaker than a whisper but in the silence that seemed to envelope us in that car, completely independent of the outside world and sirens that could surely be heard from blocks away, I knew he would be able to hear me.

He looked up, eyes focussing slightly on me, and a tear slipped down his face, only it went the wrong way since we were still upside down. He mouthed the words “I love you”. We never said that to each other. As close as we were, our relationship had always been more comparable to that of a best friend than sibling. We weren’t overly affectionate, never hugged or said I love you, hung out for enjoyment rather than as a punishment. Most people didn’t know we were brother and sister until we pointed it out, we never really looked alike and were absent of the traditional distaste and rivalry usually present between siblings. I knew, as he looked me in the eyes and said those words, this would be the last time I’d ever see him outside of a morgue.

I sat in my seat next to him with dry eyes, wishing desperately I could cry, needing to express the feeling of utter horror and despondency that completely overtook my body and mind, but I couldn’t. Barb told me time and time again that I was in shock, there was nothing I could’ve done, but I will never be able to believe that. I still remember the moment the final tear slipped down his face. He smiled at me, pain evident in his eyes. His entire body was covered in the metallic smelling red, and I wanted to vomit. I wish I could say the crash had sobered me, but it didn’t, not really. I was still entirely in a daze as I saw his muscles relax, smiling falling from his face, eyes not quite rolling back all the way but enough to give me nightmares for the next 20 years. The life had been absorbed from his body, leaving a heavy shell. I was told afterwards this all happened within the span of 10 minutes, but it felt like years. By the time the first responders had appeared I was an old woman. Grayed hair, and arthritic bones. Mourning for the brother I’d lost oh so many years ago, when I was just a girl. I think in a way I died in that car with him, I never was really the same. But who would be? Best friend and confidant, older brother, idol, dying in front of your eyes as you do nothing, knowing for the rest of your life that his death is – was – your fault. Knowing you could’ve done something, anything really, to prevent his untimely loss of life before the paramedics arrived. If I’d been the same after that night I would have to be much more disturbed than I ever thought.

I sat in that car beside Ray’s corpse for 3 more minutes before I heard the sirens closing in around us – me. I thought I might pass out, either from the toll of what I’d just witnessed or from my concussion, but I remained upright, probably from the adrenaline. I couldn’t move so I just waited, and hoped I’d die too before anyone reached the scene. It would be much preferrable to any other outcome I could think of at the time. I could vaguely register the pain in my wrist, but I felt so numb I’m sure you could’ve shot me in the foot and I wouldn’t have blinked.

A young fireman named Walter ended up getting me out of the car. The door was smashed and stuck which meant I’d been trapped in there either way. I was happy I hadn’t bothered trying to escape as I'm terribly claustrophobic and finding out I couldn’t would have thrown me into a proper panic attack. The fireman was incredibly nice, saying reassuring things the entire time they were opening the door with the “Jaws of Life”. I ended up seeing him again in the hospital actually, or at least that’s what my father told me. He wanted to check in on me and left me some hydrangeas in a vase. I always preferred chrysanthemums but I'm not that picky when it comes to a floral arrangement.

After the door was busted open I was carried out by Walter. I was shaking and apparently babbling nonsense but in my head I was trying to tell them to save Ray. I wasn’t really aware of all that much, completely blind to the crowd of spectators that had rudely gathered to witness the violence – wasn’t it supposed to be taboo to stop at a car crash? Wondering vaguely about what happened and wishing you could get a better look as you drive past the scene.  My head wound had made me a bit incompetent and the meth in my system was really not helping the entire situation.

I was laid on a gurney and rolled onto an ambulance. I don’t remember much about the ride; the sirens, the bright lights, a paramedic named Alice who spoke softly, smoothing out my hair while the other put an oxygen mask on my face (which I wasn’t entirely cognizant enough to question though now I'm not really sure why they did it) and splinted my wrist. Alice asked me if I was on drugs and I nodded but was unable to speak when she asked me what ( I would find this a common occurrence after the accident, my voice seemingly stolen alongside Ray’s). She just nodded and said something to the other ME that I didn’t quite pick up. She asked if I could tell her my name and I shook my head. She must’ve noticed the iPhone in my pocket and grabbed it, turning to the medical ID page.

“Is your name Begonia?” I nodded, though the name sounded foreign on my ears. I liked the way Alice said it though, she had a light Spanish accent and a matronly tone that made me feel safe. I wondered if she had kids of her own; she looked young, but my own mother had me at 19 so who could say? She told me her name after complimenting mine. “Begonia is a beautiful name; I love the flowers. I’m Alice, okay? We’re gonna make sure you’re alright and take you to the hospital.” Her voice was sweet like syrup and I became sleepy as she spoke.

“No honey, you can’t fall asleep yet. Just stay awake a little bit longer and I promise you they’ll let you sleep at the hospital.”

  I don’t remember anything of the rest of the ride to the hospital. I was dropped off at the Emergency Room at the Regional, head still too foggy to allow me to recall anything before I was sitting in a white bed, in a white room, with white sheets and a light blue hospital gown on. It was morning and my father was sitting at the end of my bed in an uncomfortable plastic chair, his eyes bloodshot and moist. He’d very obviously been crying for a long time and my chest panged with guilt. I reached up to feel my head and realized there was a cast on my wrist. With my other hand I touched the cotton that covered my forehead, wincing when I felt the sting of what had to be stitches in a nasty gash. I would spend the next 5 years of my life with a variety of diverse haircuts that attempted to hide the ugly scar that served as a reminder of the worst night of my life. Even now it is still extremely obvious, but I can’t be bothered to try and hide it, I so rarely look in the mirror that it wouldn’t matter if my skin turned blue.

My dad hadn’t looked up, so I attempted to gain his attention but once again found my voice failing me. I tapped on the bed a few times before he seemed to realize and face me.

“Nia… how are you feeling?” His voice was raspy and thin. He reeked of cigarettes and stale coffee, though this wasn’t anything out of the ordinary. I remained silent as he looked at me, searching my face for something I'm not sure he found.

“Nia, I, I'm not sure how to say this to you.” Here it comes. Almost worse than watching my brother die, the confirmation. “Ray, he’s, well dead.” I saw my father’s eyes begin to tear up again as I stared straight ahead. I couldn’t feel the sobs that racked my body, nor the hot tears streaming from my eyes. I saw my dad start to move closer but sit back down when I flinched. Of course, I knew my brother was dead; I had front row seats to watching the event happen, but somehow I still didn’t believe it until the words left my father’s mouth. According to my dad, who many years later described to me how eery the whole event was, my sobs were completely silent, and I was entirely unaware of everything happening around me. This dissociation lasted the first few days after the accident, and the entirety of my hospital stay. Leaving the blissful gap in my memory I have now.

Barb told me this was my mind’s way of coping with the tragedy and stress of what happened. I was honestly just happy I had an excuse to skip some of the dreadful retelling she forced upon me.

 ❈

             The funeral was of course a depressing and solemn event. I was still yet to speak and found myself thankful for the way people gave up on trying to get me to communicate. I dressed in a black skirt with a black short sleeved button up. A dark coat thrown around my shoulders as the cast on my right hand was too big to fit through the sleeve. I looked terrible, barely a week out of hospital before I watched Ray sink into the ground. The wound on my forehead was still quite nasty, though it looked better than it did before. I tried to cover it up with my hair but was unsuccessful. I got bangs soon after.

           The matter was very traditional, taking place in a church even though none of our family was really religious. It was only the second time I'd ever been in a church, the first having been for my cousin Julie’s wedding when I was four years old. I don’t remember anything of it aside from the material of my dress itching at my neck and making me rather miserable. Of course, not nearly as miserable as I was the day of the funeral, sitting in a pew at the front of the church, listening to a priest claiming Ray would’ve wanted us to celebrate his life. I knew this not to be true; Ray was extremely dramatic and would’ve cherished the thought of everyone he’d ever spoken to moping around for weeks after his death, beside themselves with grief. He sometimes referred to himself as “Romeo” after having been broken up with by another girl he was supposedly in love with, stating he better just stab himself in the heart now if he couldn’t have her. On the rare occasion he broke up with a girlfriend, he’d lounge around, eating ice cream, pretending to not be upset and comparing his cold heart to that of Richard VIII. The concept of him being any different over his death was almost comical; Ray was nothing if not predictable.

           I sat beside my father, who sat beside my mother (it was an extremely awkward arrangement that neither I nor my father cared for) and seemed to have the idea that I could evaporate if I thought hard enough about it. Unfortunately, I did not evaporate, or even come close to it, instead finding myself exactly where I'd been the whole time. I mostly tuned out the service, only really paying attention when my father and Ray’s best friend, Jake spoke. I managed to escape the duty of having to speak that day thanks to my fragile mental state and mutism. Though I'm sure I would’ve been forced all the same if I had been able to talk in any capacity, regardless of where my head was at.

           Faun was sitting in the pew behind me, feeling quite guilty about the whole ordeal. Or friendship dissolved soon after, I think she blamed herself for taking me to the party. It didn’t bother me too much though; we were never the closest and I sometimes thought her to be extremely annoying. An endless stream of shitty boyfriends that she only acquired so she could further repress her sexuality. When we were 14 we kissed at a sleepover and she admitted she was in love with me. I felt bad for not returning the feeling and our relationship had been on rocky territory ever since. I don’t understand how she thought she was in love with me since she barely knew anything about me, but either way she never brought it up again and soon after the monsoon of boytoys had begun.

           My brother’s friends and ex-girlfriends also attended the event. I didn’t approach any of them, far too scared they’d blame me for the death of their friend. One of them, Alex, went up to me to say how sorry he was about everything that happened. He was crying quite heavily (I later found out he was the friend Ray had been drinking with and the second last person to see him alive) and I could smell alcohol on his breath. I stood there while he spoke, telling me about how great my brother was as if I was wholly unaware. Body waving side to side as he stood with his hand on the wall beside me. He offered me some bronze liquid in a flask, and I obliged, savouring the burning sensation that followed in my throat. Alex’s voice was steady and deep, reminding me of my father’s. I’m not sure how long we stood there, him spinning a fantastic web of anecdotes and stories about my brother, some entirely new to my ears. We passed the beverage back and fourth until it was empty. My head felt lighter and heavier somehow simultaneously, and I found it much easier to listen to Alex talk. Later he tried to kiss me in my bedroom during the wake. His mouth was sour, and his tongue seemed too big for his mouth. I wondered how he was able to talk so much without it getting in the way.

             We moved in procession to the cemetery after the service. The grass was a vibrant green colour, and I didn’t understand how the world kept turning after Ray’s death, for mine stopped the moment his heart failed to beat. The sky was a lovely shade of cyan-blue, with clouds so perfect they seemed animated. Pink carnations were planted near the outskirts of the yard and I could smell spring in the air; a heavy, floral aroma that never failed to comfort me. I thought it should be raining, it felt inappropriate that the weather refused to match my despair. My mind wandered as we approached the empty grave and I considered what it would be like if Ray was here beside me. He’d probably be making jokes, telling me to lighten up for a minute or my face would get stuck that way. He’d mock my silence, saying how I never managed to shut up for a minute before but suddenly I'm as proper as a nun. I'd smile, ruffling his hair to piss him off and try to refrain from laughing aloud. The absence of him only felt stronger as I imagined this scenario, so I shoved it out of my head.

           The casket was lowered into the ground, my father was a pallbearer and I often think about how he must’ve felt carrying his son’s body before watching him being buried. My mother sobbed loudly which annoyed me, it felt a bit exaggerated. I had a few tears falling from my eyes but mostly, I just felt numb. Incredibly and absolutely empty inside. To onlookers it may have seemed as though we weren’t very close, my reaction being similar to that of his ex-girlfriends’. However, this didn’t account for the loss of my voice, or the broken state I was in mentally. Maybe it was better that my reaction was rather dulled. It meant people didn’t feel the need to approach me as they did my mother. Less concerned given she was the one playing up her emotions to the point of embarrassment. My father cried, more than I but far less than my mother. He didn’t cry very often – I'd actually only seen it once prior to the whole event – and I figured he probably needed it. At this point I felt as though I'd shed enough tears to last a lifetime so Ray wouldn’t mind if I was a bit subdued in comparison. He never was a crier anyways.

           As I sprinkled soil onto his casket I imagined he was right beside me, watching, ready to criticize as usual. The dirt stained my hand, clutching the sweat and turning my skin a muddy brown colour. As I wiped the dirt on my jacket I could hear him nagging about how I better go wash my hands, what was I, a six-year-old? He was in denial about me growing up and took every chance to remind me I was still just a kid. Not that he had much on me, but I enjoyed it. I never was one to shy away from attention; at least not before. Little quirks and inside jokes between us were always some of my favourite things, the type of humour you could only get from living with someone your whole life. No matter how much his memory will fade there are some things I can’t let myself forget. His mocking tone when he’d make fun of me is one of those things. If I ever managed to let go of that sound then I must be dead as well.

           The sun beat down on my back, my skin burning in my black clothes. I wasn’t sweating yet, but most of the men around were – suit jackets aren’t exactly known for their breathability. My nose was dry and aching red, sore from how much I'd been wiping it the last couple days. Still the sweet seeping tinge of flowers and spring managed to crawl into my nose, settling underneath my skin, the buzzing from before had returned, I could feel my heartbeat loudly in my throat and had the desperate urge to just run. Instead, I just followed the rest of the party, sitting down in the passenger seat of my dad’s car. The silence that settled over us was uncomfortable and stale. He turned on the radio, Led Zeppelin filled the air around us, thankfully relieving some of the tension. I felt in my left pocket for one of the carnations I’d picked from a nearby grave earlier. The flower had begun to wilt, heat taking effect on its delicate composition. When I got home I put it in between the pages of my oldest copy of Romeo and Juliet. Ray would have found it funny if he was around to see.

The drive to my mother’s house was short and minimally awkward. We sat in silence – aside from the music – only because there was no alternative. My hand remained clutched around the dying flower in my pocket as we left the car and entered the home. Other people had already arrived, clustered in the living room, picking at tiny ham sandwiches and various desserts my mother had undoubtedly stress-baked the day before. I wasn’t hungry so I sat as far away from the food and people as humanely possible while staying in the living room, not wishing to hear my mother’s scolding about how I need to socialize more. Eventually I managed to slip away into my old bedroom, where Alex was sitting on my bed drinking a mickey of Smirnoff I assumed he swiped from my mother’s freezer. He offered it to me, and I accepted, the weird repetitive déjà vu like act, mirroring earlier and making the whole day feel like somewhat of a dream.

When I went over this part with Barb she always felt the need to emphasize that it wasn’t a dream. I knew this, obviously, which I told her every time, but she was inclined to disbelief when it came to my denial over my brother’s death. “Begonia, you must realize he’s gone. Dwelling is helping nobody, especially not you. This isn’t a healthy mindset for you to have. Always comparing living to your dreams. I want you to tell me you understand this isn’t just some dream you can wake up from.” The first time she said that to me I was thrust into a bout of wordlessness, as it struck a bit too close to home. The next time she brought it up I just told her of course, though even now I still cannot say I fully understand. How can I when all of my assumptions have been constantly disproven time and time again. How can I ever say this isn’t a dream when I'm not even sure I'm real? James always tries to reassure me, “Bee, I'm telling you, if you can feel this beat, the pulse in your wrist, your neck, your chest, you are alive,” he’ll say while pressing my hand to my wrist, but we both know it isn’t that simple.

Me and Alex made out for a few minutes until I managed to excuse myself. He was a bad kisser and tasted disgusting. I left him sitting on my old bed while I went downstairs to find my dad. He was sitting at the counter with a can of root beer, blank expression sat upon his face. When his eyes met mine he sighed, grabbing his keys out of his pocket. It was obvious neither of us wanted to be here, for numerous reasons, so we left. And if the radio stayed off as we drove home we didn’t acknowledge the silence that time. In my hand was the crumpled carnation, and for some reason it made my chest hurt. A deep ache of dread. I could feel my heartbeat, hear it over the drum of the car engine, and I crushed the flower further. I was careful not to rip it though, as if that was crossing some kind of invisible line my mind had set for me. My fingers felt waxy when I finally let go.

Back home, I opened the copy of Romeo and Juliet. I retrieved the deteriorating plant from my pocket and placed it in the center. Closing the book, I stacked it under a few dictionaries, a magazine under it so it was trapped on either side. I sat down in front of it and cried. Not the huge gasping sobs my mother seemed to fancy, nor the quiet weeping of my father. No, I cried the tears of a child who just found out their grandparents died, the soft uncomprehending grief that overcame them as they first learned what death really meant. How long forever was. My legs pulled up to my chest, hands loosely hung around knees, unable to clasp together because of my cast. I closed my eyes and I swear I could hear the sound of Ray sighing behind me, but when I opened my eyes I was alone. I went to bed, earlier than I ever had in my life, still believing it was a dream and I'd wake up like Alice after her adventures in Wonderland. But when I awoke, I was met with the slow, oozing perdure of my reality. The one which I could not wake up from, and the one where my brother was dead.

[lovemesomesurveys]

Has anybody ever stole your happy? More like life stuff and health issues did. And depression is a real bitch.

What does your Facebook/Myspace status say? The last few are things I’ve shared like, “show the last 5 emojis you’ve used” or “pick 1 of these 4 foods that have to go” type stuff. 

Have you ever played games with someones head? I don’t think so. I’ve had people play games with mine.

Have you changed throughout the years? Yes. A lot changed these past 6 years and not in a good way. And also a lot hasn’t changed that really needs to.

Are you doing anything important tomorrow? No.

What are you wearing right now? I’m wearing leggings and a long-sleeve shirt.

What do you currently hear right now? I’m watching Teen Mom OG. Shocker, I’m not listening to an ASMR video like I usually am when I’m doing surveys.

Do you get creeped out from people who have lazy eyes? No? 

Do you need to forget about someone right now? No.

Do you answer blocked calls on your phone? I don’t answer calls from unknown numbers.

What color is your cellphone? Gold.

How much money do you have on you right now? I don’t have any on me.

What type of survey do you refuse to take? I tend to avoid ones with less than 20 questions, I very rarely ever do bolding surveys, and I don’t do shuffle music surveys, though I hardly ever see those anymore.

Are you a good speller? I think so.

What is your favorite song of the moment? I don’t have a particular current favorite. I haven’t been listening to music, lately. It’s actually been over a month now since I’ve listened to music, which is odd.

When was the last time you ate ice cream? It’s been a few years.

What are you eatting right now? I’m not eating anything right now, but I need to soon.

What do you currently smell? I don’t smell anything at the moment.

Have you ever snuck out of the house? Nope. 

Do you like to run? No.

Do you think you could run the mile in 10 minutes? Absolutely not. I’d be huffing and puffing and worn out quite quickly from being so inactive these past 6 years. Let’s be real, I wouldn’t even attempt it at all. I don’t have the energy for that.

Where do you plan on going this summer? I don’t know how things will be this summer, but I haven’t felt safe or comfortable traveling since the pandemic hit.

I won't take a survey if it isnt more than _____ questions. It’s gotta be at least 20 questions. 

One thing that can make you smile no matter what. My doggo.

What is something special about your town? My town sucks, ha.

How many surveys a day do you take? Usually, like 5 or so at least. Some days more, some days less.

Do you think people should make more surveys? I hope people keep making them and I’ll keep taking them.

What were you doing before this survey? Another survey while watching Ghosted.

When was the last time you logged onto Facebook/Myspace? I stay logged in, but I last checked my Facebook like 20 minutes ago.

What are you craving right now? Wingstop.

I am gonna get something to drink, do you need anything? I have my coffee, but thanks.

What was the longest movie you watched? A little over 3 hours.

Do you really think the world will end in 2012? Welp, we’re still here in 2021.

When cheese gets his picture taken what does he say? HAHA That was cheeeeesy.

Have you ever been to a job interview? No.

Do you wear a lot of makeup? I haven’t worn any makeup in a little over 3 years now.

Do you love soft pretzels? Yeah. It’s been years since I’ve had one, though.

Do you use IM anymore? Just Facebook Messenger now and then.

Who was the last person to call you? My mom.

Tell me about the last movie you watched. It was that Disney movie, Soul. 

Have you ever played 21 questions? Yeah.

When was the last time you talked to your last ex boyfriend? Like 6 years ago. 

Is your dog mixed or full? She’s a German Shepherd and Lab mix.

Do you like kool-aid? If so, what's your favorite flavor? I loved it as a kid. I haven’t had it since then.

When was the last time you sent a letter through the mail? Several years ago.

Do you know anybody in prison right now? Yes.

What was the last thing you and your mother did together? We caught up on some of the shows we watch together.

Are you attending any parties this weekend? No.

What are your plans for the weekend anyway? Same stuff I do everyday.

Do you take good pictures? Ew, no.

Am I your friend on Bzoink? I don’t have a Bzoink account.

Do you add people for their surveys or for friendship? This is my survey blog so I follow other survey blogs.

What is your display picture on myspace/facebook right now? Same one I have on here.

What is going on outside right now? I don’t know.

Do you miss anybody right now? I’ll always miss my loved ones who have passed away.

Who was the last person you kissed? Joseph, like 8 years ago.

Will you have sex tonight? No.

What color looks the best on you? I don’t feel I look good in anything, but I feel most comfortable in black.

Have you ever bought the wrong size because you were too lazy to check it? No.

What was the last thing you bought over 5 dollars? Takeout out the other day.

Do you have any mag subscriptions? No.

Do you know anybody who is going to the marines this year or next? No.

Have you watched Dear John? I’ve seen parts of it.

I can't leave my house without _____ My phone, wallet, mask, and hand sanitizer.

What is something you're not scared of but a lot of people are? I feel like I’m scared of a lot of things so I don’t know.

Would you ever have a threesome? No.

How far have you gone? I’m a virgin.

Are you an U.S citizen? I am.

How old will you be in 2012? I turned 23 in 2012.

Do you think you'll be married someday? I don’t see that happening.

Do you have any candles lit right now? No, I don’t have any candles. I’m not a candle person.

When was the last time your parents ordered pizza? We had pizza last week.

Do you loooove chicken alfredo as much as I do? I don’t care for it, personally.

What color computer do you wish you had? I like mine.

How many inches is your screen? It’s 13 inches.

Do you have any step siblings? No.

If so, how many? -

Do they annoy you? -

What color camera do you have? I just use my phone, which is a gold iPhone 12 Pro Max.

How many times a day do you talk to your mom on the phone? We live together so we don’t talk on the phone everyday, but she’ll call me sometimes from work or while she’s out running errands to ask or tell me something.

Who is somebody you haven't seen in a long time? A lot of my extended family. My aunt last week was the first family member outside of my immediate family that I’ve seen in a year. What are your school colors? I’m done with school.

What did you wear yesterday? My usual attire of leggings and a graphic tee.

What color straightner do you have? I don’t have a straightener anymore. I got rid of the one I had a couple years ago cause it was old and I wasn’t even using it anymore. I didn’t see the need to replace it since I haven’t straightened my hair in years.

How many times a day do you brush your grill? At least once.

Who was the last person to IM you? I think it was my aunt on Facebook Messenger.

Is your closet organized? It is. My aunt helped me do that last week. She helped me clean up and reorganize my room. I really can’t even say helped cause she did literally everything. 

Do you need to clean anything in your house right now? Nope.

What should you be doing? I don’t have anything I should be doing, I’m doing what I want to do. 

What would you rather be doing? I’m perfectly content with this. I just finished eating dinner and I’m feeling full and sleepy.

Do you listen to music really loud or really low? I listen to it at a reasonable level. I wanna hear it obviously, but I don’t need it blasting.

Do you live with anybody other than your siblings and your parents? My doggo as well.

Who was your last crush? Ty.

How many tattoos do you have? Zero.

What is the weather like down around where you live? It’s currently 54F.

What is your favorite thing to do? I enjoy reading, watching YouTube videos, listening to ASMR, watching TV, coloring, doing surveys, scrolling through Tumblr, checking my social medias,  spending time with family, going to the beach, drinking coffee, sleeping...

How many pets do you own? I have one doggo. 

Are you close with your parents? I am. My mom, especially. She’s my best friend.

What is your favorite song? I have a lot of favorites.

Where do you shop the most for your clothes? Boxlunch and Hot Topic.

Have you ever read a whole series of books? Yeah, I’ve read many series.

When you tell someone you love them do you mean it? Absolutely. I don’t say those words loosely or a lot, but if I say it, I mean it.

Do you have a guy best friend? No.

Are you going to walk at your graduation or just pick your diploma up? I participated in all of my graduations.

Do you think the Tiger Wood's cheating thing is annoying? That’s super old news.

What is your favorite food? Wingstop’s garlic parm and lemon pepper boneless wings, ramen, spaghetti and meatballs, breakfast burritos or sandwiches, and biscuits and scrambled eggs smothered in country gravy with hash browns.

Do you ever eat anything everybody else thinks is gross? Probably my scrambled eggs and ranch combo.

How many tattoos do you have? Zero.

What did you do for your last birthday? Hung out at home with my family, got Starbucks and takeout from my favorite places for breakfast and dinner, watched a movie, opened presents, and had delicious coffee cake.

What do you plan on doing for your 18th birthday? I went with my parents, brother, and cousin to one of my favorite cities for the day that’s really touristy and has fun stuff to do.

Are you excited for anything coming up? No.

Do you still have the same friends as you did when you were younger? I don’t have any friends anymore.

Is there a friend you never get to see anymore? --

Do you have to type with good grammer? Yeah, using proper grammar is important to me.

Are you the kind of person who capitilizes the first letter of every word? Nooo. I don’t like that. Or when people type in all lowercase or a mix of the two. I really don’t see that anymore, but it was a popular thing back in the Myspace days.

What is your favorite quote? There’s many.

Are you allowed to cuss in front of your parents? I’m 31 years old so I certainly could, but I choose not to. *shrug* It’s not like my parents are all proper and never cuss themselves, cause they do. My mom loves her f-bombs haha. It’s just how I am. 

How long was your last phone conversation? Just a couple minutes.

Who was you talking to? I was talking to my mom.

Which one of your friends annoy you? --

Have you ever lost a close friend to death? No.

Do you know someone who suffers from addiction? Yes, several people.

How old are you? 31.

Do you have a lot of pictures in your room? I do now. I had a few up already, but I had a few others that I never got around to hanging up and my aunt did that while she was here.

Do you have facebook? I do.

Do you update your status with a step by step guide of what your doing? Uh, no. No one would care to see that and I have no need to share that.

Have you ever found a dog/cat on the side of the road? Yes. :(

Do you go bowling in your town? I have a few times before back in the day. The last time I went bowling was over a decade ago.

Do you have a drive in theater. No, I wish. I really think those should make a big comeback now.

What are you wearing? Leggings and a long sleeve shirt.

What brand is your favorite shoe? Adidas.

Is your best friend's mom like your own? My best friend is my mom so yes? haha.

Do you have aniexty or depression? I have both, yay. -____-

How old do you think you will be when you get married? I don’t plan on ever getting married.

What is your favorite fast food resturant? Wingstop.

What do you usually order? Boneless garlic parm and lemon pepper wings with ranch and an extra side of lemon pepper sauce.

Do you own a pair of brass knuckles? No.

Don't you think the diamond ones are b-a? Huh?

Do you know what b-a means? No.

Have you and your friends ever made up a word? My cousins and I probably have when we were kids.

Don't you hate stomachaches? Ugh, yes. Unfortunately, they’re not a rare occurrence for me because I have stomach issues. :/ Heating pads are a must.

Have you ever gotten a stomache at the wrong time? yeah it always feels like the wrong time. like it's always at night when i'm trying to sleep. the worst. <<< Same. 

What is your favorite memory in life? Childhood.

Do you have any embarassing baby pictures of yourself? I don’t think any of my baby photos are embarrassing. I actually love those photos haha. Then I got older and ew.

What is the worst smell in the world? Shit? ha.

What is your favorite smell? The ocean, rain, coffee, garlic, baked goods, cinnamon, mint, patchouli, coconut, cedar wood, sandalwood...

Do you dye your hair a lot? Yeah. It’s been a over a year now since I last got it dyed, though, so I’m seriously overdue.

How do you style your hair most of the days? It’s always up in a messy bun. I don’t have the energy or motivation to do anything else with it. I’m just at home all day anyway.

Do you have any fox racing clothing? No. I remember that was a popular thing in high school.

Do you have anybody in your family who rides dirtbikes/fourwheelers? Yes.

Have you ever rode a dirtbike/fourwheeler? Nooo.

Tell me how you got one of your scars? Spinal surgery.

Have you ever had a friend who cut themselves? Yes.

What is your favorite thing to do in the summer? The only thing I like about the summer is being able to go to the beach. Otherwise, I hate summertime.

Do you go tanning or do you lay out? I only ever get a tan when I go to the beach cause I’m out there for hours.

Do you have a beach towel or do you use a reg one? We have beach towels.

If you tan, what kind of lotion do you have? I don’t use any tanning lotion.

What is your favorite skin lotion? I don’t really have one. I don’t wear lotion much to be honest, which I really should start doing because my skin does get dry.

Have you ever used 3 minute miracle by aussie? Nope.

Do you use a lot of hair products? No, just shampoo, a detangling spray, and dry shampoo.

Why did you pick my survey? It was long and looked interesting.

Are you glad it's long? Yeah.

Or did I bore you? Nah, it’s fine.

What is your longest relationship? Whatever it was Joseph and I had went on for 3 years.

How long have you known your best friend? Since I was in the womb, ha.

Who is your favorite aunt? I’m really close to the aunt that came and stayed with us last week.

Do you have a cousin you dislike? No.

Do you own a pair of chanel earrings? Nope.

What is your favorite band? Linkin Park will always be one of them.

Have you ever heard theroy of a deadman? I think so.

What is your comfort food? Ramen.

What is your favorite color? Pastels, rose gold, sea foam green, coral, and yellow.

What color is the color of your walls? White.

Do you own anything zebra striped? No.

What kind of straighner do you have? I don’t have one, we’ve been through this already.

Are you obsessed with your hair? No. I don’t do anything with it. I’m not good at maintaining the red I’ve been dyeing it for the past 6 years either. I was in the beginning when I got it done once a month, but then it started getting more and more months in between and then it turned into a year. I’m currently a little over a year overdue. Sighhh. I just don’t have the energy or motivation to do that or much of anything else. I barely get outta bed most days.

[fueledbysprite]

abandoned wips masterlist

so not too long ago i did an insta poll asking if i should expose all my abandoned fic drafts cause i mean it’s not like theyre ever gonna see the light of day otherwise. i was going to do it when i hit 3k kudos on ao3 and i did so i suppose it has come time for me to expose my mistakes

for obvious reasons, don’t repost these (idk why anyone would lol) but if you really like one of these and want to see it continued, just hit up my ask box and i may or may not consider~

Miscellaneous Fandoms:

Ninjago: Zephyr - a Morro backstory fic bc the hageman bros refuse to feed me more content of my son. barely started it but yknow its there

Miraculous Ladybug/BoBoiBoy: this failed attempt at a fanginette fic bc @secretagentspydetectiveninja got me invested even tho writers block is a binch hahshs

BoBoiBoy:

kokotiam gang angst that reminded me i cannot for the life of me write emotional angst (or any angst for that matter oop)

ramenzo (and kaifang) angst that i churned out on a saturday afternoon on a writing spike instead of doing homework bc I Do Not Control the Writing Juice

au where bbb is a forest guardian(?) and fang just wants away from Society (same fang same) i will probably be yearning for woodland aus till the day i die bc who *doesnt* wanna ditch everything and go live in the middle of the woods amirite?

ramenzo n boifang water fight bc you cant convince me these idiots dont get up to ridiculous shenanigans on their downtime

abandoned draft for the sequel to the og ramenzo fic (dont bother reading it literally nothing happens i swear)

i literally don’t remember where i was going with this i think it was supposed to be fang introspection but idk??

uhh kaifang with ramenzo vibes i think this was gonna be? i genuinely don’t remember anymore oop-

RAMENZO IN QUARANTINE yes this one was regular au (i mean duh) and it’s a shame i never ended up finishing it-

i am actually goboifang t r a s h...until i realized im going to have to make all the food by myself and i never learned to make food :’)) (fr if anyone provides me with any kind of fanon gbf content i will love you forever pls)

this...exists even tho i honestly prefer it didnt but ramenzo is ramenzo n ramen has freckles i will fite u on this (dont read it pls)

if anyone wants ramenzo crumbs (and i mean that quite practically) then feel free to consume the Specks

dont read this pls im begging just dont lets yeet it into the void it doesnt exist~ I Do Not See It

update: i discovered this uhh kaifang post-bora ra incident thing in my other drive

Miraculous Ladybug:

okay forewarning there are wayyyy too many of these so im skipping the ones that are sequels/dependent on other fics for context just to spare myself from having to sort through this mountain

i was planning to participate in chlonath week 2k19 (unfortunately for chlonath nation I Do Not Control the Hyperfixation oop) if you want context then ask

marcnath crumbs thats it thats the doc

oh look allya is self projecting again (writing is still pain) (marcnath)

for the one who requested chloenette with the dialogue prompt i am so sorry

idk why this feels like something ive posted before but then again all lovesquare is the same to me (dead) so who knows im not gonna bother checking hshsh (marichat)

chlonath go to comic con or sth idk chloe is tsundere as always (or would have been anyway if i ever ended up Finishing this)

i *think* this was based on a @terrible-miraculous-ladybug-aus post but heck if i remember now- (lukanette??)

i have absolutely no recollection as to where i was going with this but if anyone finds the concept interesting then by all means go ahead n snatch it- (manon finds the miraculous i guess?)

this is a great. opening. to a chloe fic. that doesnt exist. oof :,)

caline bustier’s home for orphans amirite (i mean she basically already adopted the whole class so)

im genuinely not a fan of the jealous!lover trope but someone in the marcnath server wanted some at one point so i. attempted. and failed but you know thats to be expected at this point :’3

oh look allya is projecting her writing struggles onto marc again is anyone surprised?

theres probably a museum brotp story in here but it doesnt exist and at this point it never will rip

oh good lord not this again i genuinely managed to forget about it for a while until now-

i just read the first line and im already reeling what the heck is this nathanette(??)

WHY IS THERE MARICHAT IN MY WIP FOLDER WHAT

allya stop projecting onto emo weebs challenge failed

i really wanna know where the context for chlonath skiing trip came from i literally have 0 recollection of this at all??

YO I ACTUALLY REMEMBER THE CONTEXT FOR THIS ONE anyway nath n aroace!alix arranged marriage au anyone?? well too bad cause i abandoned it oop-

ahahahahahahaha wdym i wrote 7k of chlonath and then ditched it i would never do that lmao-

i think this was a hunger games au uh

something something marcnath

marcnath angst i guess? *allya pls stop trying to write angst we’ve already established that is not a thing you can do*

something something chlonath

im never gonna forgive @powerdragonmoon for the fact that i thought “beecock” while glancing over this to figure out wth was going on. cholaon works here too tho so that is what i shall call it //sideways glare at moon

take your otp. now put them on a trampoline. but heaven forbid you ever finish the fic- (chlonath if it wasnt obvious)

nathanette doll au from forever ago with @lotus-duckies that was a real concept its a shame i have 0 commitment

i wanna call this lukanathanette but i honestly don’t remember where i was going with it so idk

hi uhm what is this and why is it so depressing allya fr quit self projecting on emo tomatoes oml

chlonath established relationship i guess??

museum brotp go skating?? is that what this is?

how much chlonath do i hAVE also chloe u tsundere

nathaniel is Yearning n tbh i dont blame him cause same (ft. marc)

i could swear this was gonna be luklonath (chlolukanath??) but i wouldnt be able to remember-

if anyone can figure out what’s going on with marc pls tell me bc i dont-

cholaon but theres no context

Oh god im finally done good lord that’s all of em i hope i never have to look at a mlb doc again in my life anyway pls be grateful n enjoy the crumbs n stuff thanks i sacrificed my sanity for this-

[sui-senka]

The dumbest post

I think y’all should be here to witness the dumbest post I’ll ever make, as I’m not all about getting into discourse and that, and any other self-identifying Vergil lovers please come here:

@creepyscritches, @brasspetalsx, @fandomhell97, @breezeinmonochromenight, @kaldea88, @xalmasyx, @hornyangrybean, @noir-sorrow, @catspook, @xenontrioxide, @zilla-may-cry, @boobble, @vergilshusband, @tifaroni, @littlebluewraith, @im-a-clown, @genovaempera, @neodicronus, @thelessiknowtheworse, @thriilsy, @jestermania, @bunny-girl-sweetseek, @darka3363, @witchkiid, @45, @manadebutt, @magsamaire, @spaghetti-queerghetti, @clairexredfields, @204863-yunglynn, @yuri-subtext, @miss-soso-25, @josuke-kujo, @cameguisada, @trionfi, @glitteryhumanfiretrash, @lewdbunbun, @journalofsparda, @complacentdevil, @infernokid, @emogodmatthew, @brit-o-raptor, @salsa-and-chips, @gemstone-enema

I’d like y’all to bear witness, as I take down this bitch-ass clown. As I’ve blocked the person in question that I want to call out - please tag them into this post to have at them ;) Also - to the other people that didn’t get this, tag your mutuals and get them here.

I’d also like to announce that @thephantomporg84 is now masquerading as @derelict-stranger, and I got a few messages a few days ago about how she was gonna take down her account, and how she wants me to block all of you, which is ridiculous as you are all blogs that I have known and followed way before her and also I don’t know you either. I told her that I didn’t want to be involved in her drama, but here I am. 

It’s kinda hard for me to make this post, as I genuinely thought that she was cool in the beginning - she helped to give me more DMC asks in my inbox, and she always reblogged my stuff, as I’ve been trying to make it with the big guys - like @myfairmidnightladyspade.

But I saw the stuff that she says online to you all, and I think I got some anon messages from her asking if I was a terf or not... and yeah - my heart broke. I feel like I have been deceived in some way. What I wanted to be there was someone who was cool, and funny to talk to, but turns out that person is petty, heartless, immature and straight up spiteful.

I may have to justify myself in why I got messages from her - I was only trying to console her, but to do it in a neutral way as I wanted no part in her drama.

Also - i’m probably not gonna show any evidence for how much she sucks cause there’s tags and anon posts dedicated to that sort of thing

I want you on tumblr, and you on Reddit to find her, and in the /v/ section of 4chan to block her and report her for all she’s done. I want you to wipe her existence from the internet until there is nothing left.

Now - I need to change the flow of the conversation by directing it to you, @derelict-stranger.

I’d like you to kindly log off, take a breather and think, for a second about the actions that you’ve done to the people that I’ve mentioned above. 

I’d also like to tell you that your suggestion to block all those people above is complete nonsense. Why would you make me block blogs who have perfectly decent and awesome content, and to those who I have talked to longer than you? why would you make me block blogs who I don’t know? Quit trying to get me on your side. I want no part in your drama like I said before, and stop trying to manipulate me into getting me to give a shit about you.

I’d also like to tell you that your situation is entirely self-inflicted. That you trying to talk to me won’t work, the only reason that people are apparently “attacking you” - is because you, in fact, are the instigator, are the catalyst of all this hatred.

You - @derelict-stranger, lack any ability whatsoever to disagree well. From where I’m looking, all of this started because you don’t like Vergil from the Devil May Cry games and you don’t like the plot of 5, which seems extremely stupid to me, as he’s only a small-ish part of 1, one of the best boss-fights in 3 and just a mere mention in 4. The fact that you need to incessantly attack content creators who merely like him is stupid. Either keep those opinions to yourself, ignore them, or do my favourite -> stick ‘em up your big stupid ass.

It’s also stupid that when people merely like him - you have to bring in your own shitty opinions. No one asked you what you thought, and I’m pretty sure you’re actively seeking out fights with people just to feel good about yourself. It’s also super hypocritical of you ragging on about how much Vergil sucks, when you go crazy for Kylo Ren, as they share some similarities in terms of their vibes and traits. (Yeah - I see you asking for smutty Kylo Ren x Reader requests online.....) Why do you get pissy when people like villainous fictional characters - do your knickers

What I just want to know is what kind of personal gratification you get when you actively hate on a character, and what kind of gratification you get when just because someone disagrees with you - that you have to result using death threats, rape threats, pedophilia threats, racism, slurs, and ableism,  transphobia, alt-right rhetoric, neo-Nazi shit, pro-Trump, and homophobic comments to content creators just doin’ their own thing. Is it just to feel like the bigger man, is it to make yourself sound smarter than the other person (Cause you don’t) - like what actually motivates you, what actually makes you want to shit on other people’s parades, huh? Sounds to me like you need to get a life.

The fact that you always need to play the victim is sad and pathetic too:

- That you’re on the spectrum: - Okay, there are a lot of people who are on the spectrum here on tumblr. But they don’t use it as an excuse to justify shitty behaviour especially if it’s unitentional. as I’m sure they and the people they know are. I’m sure they apologise and try to get on with life like how NT people do. As you know - a lot of people of the spectrum feel like they’re being treated as sub-human being babies that do nothing but screech all the time, and they’re taking action to change those perceptions. Your behaviours are not helping their cause.

- That you use depression as an excuse - I’m kinda sympathetic to the whole mental health issues thing. I have them too. In fact, I am a hot mess. But I don’t use that to excuse me hurting other people with intention, and I’m sure many others don’t either. At least 1/4 or 1/3 will have some mental health issues in their life, and yeah, it sucks, and it’s common but it doesn’t make them exempt from them being called out on their shitty acts. the fact that so many people are and can be mentally ill doesn’t make you special, and it doesn’t give you a free pass to attack others.

- The fact that you try to bait people into making anti-semitic comments, so you can call them anti-semitic. Dude, that’s low. I’m pretty sure that’s gaslighting and manipulation as well. You don’t get the right to use your religion/race in that way as a defence when you’re feeling attacked so that you come off a better person. I’m friends with many jewish people, and they’d never have the gall to do that. I know that your peeople have had it rough, but you can’t use that in an argument just to prove that the other one is a piece of shit, when it is in fact you. I’m muslim, a WOC, and ancestrally speaking, from a country that your so-beloved president essentially banned their right to seek a better life in the states. For as long as I can remember - I’ve seen news about my kind being universally hated, I’ve been brought up in a post-9/11 world where for as long as I can remember that me and our kind are the enemy (so I can sympathise) - but you don’t see me and other muslims here using those petty tactics that you use, because unlike you, we’re not myopic and we know that won’t get us anywhere.

I mean, this behaviour sounds bratty and childish - so I was thinking, she’ll probably grow out of it. Then I find that you’re in you’re mid-twenties, and I think “you really haven’t grown up at all, have you?”, and honestly it just makes the behaviour worse as you are resulting to middle school/high school tactics -> especially making me block all those people, calling them sociopaths and evil bitches. This ain’t high school or Mean Girls, moron, this is a fandom. A place where people can create, share, like and comment on content that makes you happy. I don’t think you understand what that means - cause all I see, and everyone sees is you spewing hatred everywhere. Fandoms are supposed to make you feel included, feel happy, feel safe, be a place to make friends. I don’t think you know that, and I don’t think you are even smart enough to realise that you are the reason why our fandom isn’t happy.

And honestly, at this point, the hatred you are getting is well deserved. You deserve to feel like shit if all you are going to do is make others feel like shit.

I don’t know what else to say but:

1. Get the hell away from our fandom

2. Get rid of your internet connection.

3. Get a life.

4. We don’t want you here.

5. You’re scum.

6. Go suck a dick, or flick a bean, whatever gets you off you troglodyte.

I liked you man, I really did. Then I saw how you treat others, and now I know I made a dumb life choice in making friends with you. If only you weren’t such a piece of shit, we could have been good friends.

I don’t want you here on tumblr. They don’t want you here. No-one wants or needs a toxic parasite like you on this website.

Yours sincerely,

sui-senka, who just sucked Vergil’s dick yesterday, and liked it.

[mykniverse]

17

TW// self harm, beatings, suicide, death

i remember storming home first, leaving family members behind. my thighs were pinched with thongs and i was dragged and locked out of the house in the cold. i was given a jug of water, some fruits and my schoolbag.

when sh did the same, he was lectured and was told not to do it again. 

i remember accidentally lashing out and i was forced to eat cili padi at 10 pm. 

when sh and iq did it, they were only shouted at.

i remember the day you found my goodbye card for my guy friend in primary school. i was scolded and shouted at and also beaten up.

when sh and iq exchanged love letters with girls, nothing was said or done.

i remember asking if i could go out with my friend at 9. i wasnt allowed to because i failed my exams.

sh and iq are able to go out even when their results are bad.

i remember wanting to go to a level camp so bad i wrote a note, begging to be allowed to go. but i got scolded for writing the note and i wasnt allowed to go. i wasnt allowed to go to camps till i was 13.

sh was able to go to camps between ages 11 and 12 with no problems.

i remember being told that if i failed PSLE i will be married off to a random guy. i was told to aim for 200. i scored 199. i didnt get to hear any “good job” or “you did well” as we had to rush to KL as someone passed on. in fact i didnt get to hear anything even after the trip. 

i remember sunday practices. waking up to reciting the timetable at the door no matter who was passing by. no breakfast till youre satisfied. and on weekdays after school, i’d have to recite them on a stool in front of the window where the sun was merciless. i remember when i collapsed due to the heat. i was in pain when i regained consciousness. i was asked to eat but while i was getting food i was slapped. i was laughed at by sh and iq.

i joined netball at 8. i was forced to quit at 9 because i didnt do well for my exams. i wasnt in any ccas till i was 13. but i couldnt choose what i wanted. i was forced to join a uniformed group. 

sh joined a dance cca and it was approved. iq joined badminton but quit. then he joined malay dance. both times it was approved. he was in the prefect team too. you kept giving him chances after chances even though he keeps failing. why couldnt i get the same amount of chances?

it was sh’s turn to take PSLE. when i texted about his results (i was out), you told me he did better than me. i was shocked as to how he could get 200 and above. he dropped out of the normal stream to foundation. he only scored 130. you were so proud of him. he went into a technical school and you supported him so much. i couldnt even choose which school i wanted to go to. “choose a school where you dont have to spend 5 years studying” but the first choice that you put would have led me to spend 5 years in secondary school. in the end i got the last choice that you put.

i remember you finding out that i was talking to a guy when i was 10. we were just talking. you found out and beat me up. i couldnt walk properly for the rest of the day. 

sh and iq are saying upfront that they have girlfriends but nothing is happening to them.

i got my first tiny phone that barely works at 13. i got my first actual, second hand phone at 14. and an actual phone that wasnt passed down at 15

they got their first brand new phones at 8 and 12 respectively.

i remember entering a new school with an old bag that sags while they continued being in the same school with new bags.

i remember you asking me to choose a new bag and i asked about them. you said they wont be getting the same. i felt special. till you asked them to get new bags too.

you gave me an anello bag for school once. i felt special again because i was the only one who had it. but a week later they have it too.

i remember only going out with my friends at 15. but my curfew was before dusk. 

iq went out at 9. sh went out at 13.  you gave sh a curfew. he came home hours later and didnt even get scolded. i brought it up and you acknowledged it but nothing happened.

i remember going home late after school. im a teen am i not supposed to have fun with my friends? but you brought it up to one of the upper ups in school. i was put on probation for months. it was embarrassing. teachers thought that i committed a crime. an innocent me is getting probation? why? because i go home late. i cant say that i have things after school at the last minute because you say its ridiculous and bullshit.

sh goes home late. you caught him at the playground, mall, void decks. you scold him. and he does it again. but nothing major happens. iq calls or texts you that he is staying in school and you allow him to. 

i remember self harming between ages 12 to 15. i was asked to go counselling. now i realised that the counselling was nothing. it didnt help at all. they put the blame on me. when you found out about this, i remember you scolding me. “what is there to be depressed about? youre only 14. all you have to do is study” i was scolded so much for being depressed and for self harming. you had to go for some parents counselling thingy too. i remember that one time i hit an all time low and self harmed again. sh snitched on me and told you about my scars. you got so mad when you saw the scars. i remember what you said to me. “why dont you do it deeper? end the burden once and for all. it’s so burdening and tiring to go to counselling after work?” i remember crying non stop. till we meet him. i was crying in the train. sh and iq was pointing at me and laughing. what you didnt know was that i was typing my suicide notes. i planned my suicide. when we met him, you told him and he glared at me so hard. i was given the silent treatment for so long. when you asked me why, i lied and say that im hated by people. how do i tell the cause of my depression that they are the cause of my depression?

i remember when i stopped self harming and counselling sessions are done. you got new piercings and i asked you if it hurts. you would always retaliate by saying that me self harming hurts more than getting pierced. you consistently did this while i was trying to heal. i remember when jonghyun passed on. i broke down a lot. i cried a lot. i revealed my vulnerable side. but i was mocked. “when a celebrity dies, she’s crying her eyes out. i wonder if she would even cry when her mom passes away.” i literally had to excuse myself so i dont break down in front of you.

i remember that you talked to me before i went on to pursue my tertiary education. you said you were disappointed in me. you said you didnt understand why i was content with my shitty results. i was content because the entire of 2018 was peak depression period. i could barely study because it was so overwhelming. the fact that i managed to even go somewhere was huge to me. i knew i disappointed you a lot because i was the only one who managed to maintain the standard and express stream. you didnt expect me to be where i am now. i put some money from my salary to pay my school fees and uniform for the first term. i already disappointed you so i didnt want to burden you. but you took it the wrong way. you thought i was trying to overthrow your responsibilities as a parent. you said that i was excited to grow up and get rid of you from my life. i remember being so shocked. yes i want to grow up so i leave this household but i have never once thought of getting rid of you.  

i remember and i know that you are very against what im doing now and what i want to do in the future. but im 17 now. im turning 18 soon. how long more are you gonna make my decisions for me? why cant i choose what i want to be? 

why do you assume that my depression is gone just because i dont have to go for counselling? why do you still joke about me self harming? why do you blame whatever sh and iq do on me? “monkey see, monkey do” what did i do? im still harming myself in a way. i picked up smoking at 13. and i started drinking recently. i have no idea where im gonna end up. a successful writer? at the void deck passed out? on the road surrounded by my own blood? i really dont know where i’ll end up. i dont know how long more i can take your hostile words. i hear that im useless every day. i hear that im hopeless every day. you always say that you dont understand us. why dont you try? why dont you try to put down your ego for a bit and try to understand us? try to understand me. try to talk to me. dont you notice that i never talk about how im doing? all i say is that im tired. and you scold me. “if youre tired then dont go to school” you dont even know when i get sick unless its the holidays. we stay under the same roof yet you dont know me at all. and you didnt raise me. for almost 10 years of my life, i was raised by my grandparents. please for once. stop talking and listen. understand. comfort instead of scolding. please. im losing my mind.

[clearskiiess]

I actually have the best idea for your "talk about" ask meme. Do 1-40 please 💕💗💞💟❤️💖 Give Us Your Autobiography

1  - talk about the first time you watched your favorite movie.

already answered !

2 - talk about your first kiss.

damn well that aint happened yet. lol

3 - talk about the person you’ve had the most intense romantic feelings for.

hGGGG probably my best friend and crush miriam. god im fucking in love with her omfg gO DODKLHFSHFDJDKHK i wont ramble too much but omffhjfkfjkdhfkjd thnak god shes not on tumblr or id die eeeehggGGGH like we flirt a lot but we’re not dating quite yetaaa ghddgh

4 - talk about the thing you regret most so far.

nothing bitchesssss 😎🤘 i regret not getting into good music earlier maybe.

5 - talk about the best birthday you’ve had.

already answered!

6 - talk about the worst birthday you’ve had.

uhhhghghgh not really a bad one i can remember ! all of them have been good, some better than others ofc but theyre still good even if i dont get prezzies.

7 - talk about your biggest insecurity.

ohufuibfhkbkjbjk probably my art and drumming and writing opps.

8 - talk about the thing you are most proud of.

already answered !

9 - talk about little things on your body that you like the most.

already answered!

10 -  talk about the biggest fight you’ve ever had.

damn probably me and my mum, we fight kind of often but yeah djldfkjjkdjkdkj those are probably the worst fights i have. or me and my dad

11 - talk about the best dream you’ve ever had.

already answered!

12 - talk about the worst dream you’ve ever had.

damn uh kinda dont wanna answer, too personal sorry eee

13 - talk about the first time you had sex/how you imagine your first time.

idk really, just being with someone i really like or even love and its just super fun and casual, and like just exploring it? yeah

14 - talk about a vacation.

ooo when me n the fam went to europe when i was 10 and we went to paris for 4 days, then germany for 2 weeks and norway i think 1 or 2 weeks? it was bloody awesome omfG it was great !!!! my family is big on travel so we usually use our money on it.

15 - talk about the time you were most content in life.

already answered !

16 - talk about the best party you’ve ever been to.

eh not really? maybe friend’s parties as a child but thats kinda it. dont really go to parties yet eee

17 - talk about someone you want to be friends with.

already answered !

18 - talk about something that happened in elementary school.

uh thats primary right? well, nothing interesting i remember in year 6 i loved warrior cats and me n my friends would roleplay it a lot at school, everyone thot we were weird but i didnt care ahah.

19 - talk about something that happened in middle school.

well thats high school for me so, nothing interesting either. maybe that one time with my old friend domi and maya and it was yr 7, i was 13 i was staying home cause i was sick af. and maya called me up, obviously trying not to laugh. and she was like “domis broken his leg! help help! what do i do” and im like uh. why are you calling me??? call the ambulance or get a teacher to do it for christs sake! i dont even believe you. and she was like yeah look! and sent me a fucking photoshopped pic of him lying at the bottom of the stairs, it made me fucking laugh so hard i was like, bro you expect me to believe you? ok buddy. bye. and hung up it was funny af

20 - talk about something that happened in high school.

^^^ answered above lol.

21 - talk about a time you had to turn someone down.

ggghHHHH ok i had to turn down my friend austin in yr 7  bc domi was pressuring me to go out with him cause i told him about how i used to like him, but for some reason that meant i still liked him to him??? so he kept going on abt it saying ask him out etc so i caved in and did and the date was so shitty i just faked sick and left and we didnt talk for a bit, but thats long gone and we’ve made up now lol, just good friends

22 - talk about your worst fear.

already answered ! 

23 - talk about a time someone turned you down.

hgg not happened yet,,, thank god 

24 - talk about something someone told you that meant a lot.

well whenever someone compliments me on anything really or says im their best friend like??? psjksfjkdjkhfsdjlfds ok dead,,, or when they say i love u i jusT DIE

25 - talk about an ex-best friend.

already answered!

26 - talk about things you do when you’re sick.

already answered !

27 - talk about your favorite part of someone else’s body.

uh??? idk hands. i love hands a lot. and collarbones. and lips. and eyes. and eyebrows. and legs, and tummies and - ok ill shuT Up

28 - talk about your fetishes.

dont really have any. maybe hands

29 - talk about what turns you on.

hands. teehee

30 - talk about what turns you off.

i dunno,  any bdsm like at all ahahaha. srry bros

31 - talk about what you think death is like.

i dunno really? sometimes i feel like its nothing, like we’ll just die and stop functioning and just rot and become one with the earth. but sometimes i feel like maybe there is an afterlife, like not what we think but yea? like i dunno.

32 - talk about a place you remember from your childhood.

ohh boy , well one is this river near my house, or creek really. i love it a lot its great, i love going there and watching the birds and hearing the water rush.

33 - talk about what you do when you are sad.

eh, kinda just cry my eyes out and listen to music or watch a good movie and then i feel a bit better.

34 - talk about the worst physical pain you’ve endured.

uh well as of recently i can remember, was when i got jaw surgery in april this year. now this shit was fucking horrible, for a month and a half my face was puffed like a balloon and bruises everywhere, and i literally could not eat cause i couldnt bloody move my mouth! i was confined to my bed and i lost so much weight bc i could barely eat and i was throwing up old blood and shit during that time and i couldnt fucking sit up without drooling cause i couldnt control it it was so fucking gross man. at least i look better now but it was hell lmfao.

35 - talk about things you wish you could stop doing.

uhhh idk maybe staying up all night n shit, i dont think anything else? maybe avoiding school too. oh , and ofc get rid of my depression hahah

36 - talk about your guilty pleasures.

eeeeeee nothing rlly? i dont feel guilty abt shit, i shouldnt

37 - talk about someone you thought you were in love with.

uhm i guess my ex bf tyler, well gf at the time but yea, i loved him a whole lot dkjfdhdhfhkdj but we were only 12-13 yknow and he lived in the us so it was rlly sucky. but it was a good time, just some experience

38 - talk about songs that remind you of certain people.

damn well, sweet child o mine by gnr reminds me of my friend claudia, she LOVES stuff like gnr and ac/dc, motley crue etc. and for u maxie, killer queen def ! and gold dust woman for me friend mazzy,,,, and in my life omg for miriam sjdjdjdjfkg

39 - talk about things you wish you’d known earlier.

already answered !

40 - talk about the end of something in your life.

already answered !

tYSM BBY MAXIE ILYSM

[norcumii]

Reblogged from the prior tumbl, originally posted 02/04/2016. Question submitted by @makiruz. Slightly reformatted to avoid a readmore cut and whatnot.

In Full of Sith, they always ask new guests how they got into Star Wars. And you know? That's a good question, how did you got into Star Wars?

HEH. Oooh, that’s a bit of a loaded question. So I’ll give you the short answer, which I suspect would fit the thing you mentioned what I haven’t heard of; and then because I’m a wordy bastard what overshares, the long answer which is more accurate and has content warnings for self harm and suicide.

SHORT ANSWER

It was the 80’s. I was young, in single digits, though I couldn’t tell you exactly what age. I was already dealing with an irregular sleep cycle, though all I knew was I had a flashlight, a pile of books near/on my bed, and a thick pound puppies duvet to read under.

I don’t know if I was in my room or on my way to/from the bathroom, but I could hear my parents watching something downstairs. Swooshy noises, a shrill screee, and some thwoom bzzts.

Of course I went downstairs.

I don’t know if it was episode 5 or 6. I’ve a fondness for 6, but carbonite left a HUGE fucking impression on me, and my parents have always approved of muppets, so Yoda.

I knew I loved it. I didn’t have any toys, though I think somewhere there was a print edition of A New Hope running around. I do recall multiple sleepovers at my grandmother’s place – a tiny house on acres and acres of woods – and she’d sometimes pull out Return of the Jedi and we’d watch it together on her tiny TV. Later on I’d be in bed, staring out at woods and trees that I knew, but seemed huge to a little kid, and I’d dream of Ewoks.

RotJ was Gram’s favorite, and for many years mine, too.

I like Ewoks.

VERY LONG ANSWER

TW: mental illness, depression, self harm, suicide, abuse

In late elementary, early middle school, my brother and I were basically reading ANYTHING we could get our hands on. He sometimes dove into books that didn’t interest me, so I’d read the first of something and then be bored and he’d keep going.

Star Wars EU was one of those. It was too grim for me. I think I didn’t run into any of the really good writers. It was all Han and Luke and Leia on the covers, so take that for what you will. There also was no Wookiepeia, so I was depending heavily on the writers’ abilities to convey things to someone very visual, yet pretty impatient with descriptions, so it never took.

I was in high school when The Phantom Menace came out. Mine honorable brother was off at college, so it was with great excitement on my part, and bemused tolerance on my parents’, that they and I went off to the theater.

On the one hand, I was dazzled.

On the other, there was Jar Jar. There was the fact that I hadn’t been impressed with the re-release of the OT – Han shot first. FITE ME. There was the fact that TPM didn’t feel like Star Wars, which was darker and grittier and…simpler to me.

So I wrote it off. Packed Star Wars away as “one of those things” that I’d been into, but felt like I was moving past. I was obsessed with Gargoyles, I was looking at going to college, and I would keep m’damn ewoks without needing to try to extend that vision with gungans.

College sucked. I went in, not sure if I wanted to go into English, for writing, or Psych, because I had always been what I’d now call The Mom Friend. I met a nice guy who tried, but things never really clicked between us, and there was an interesting bit that he was mad about Star Wars and insisted that I read the Rogue Squadron books.

That was a Good Decision. Dating him, not so much.

I had a huge assortment of Life Issues. Got into an abusive relationship that would end up lasting 14 years. Transferred schools. Got the fucking Psych degree, though literally only by the grace of a professor who didn’t want to see the kid not graduate just ‘cause she couldn’t numbers and I did go in and try. Talked to him and still couldn’t with the maths but the effort was there to bump me a few points above failing.

I was burnt out. I was depressed. I tried killing myself a few times – not very good at it, as you can see. Took up self-harm as a coping mechanism. Failed in the still never successful search for a decent therapist in Pittsburgh. Got a job slinging food, because needed some kind of income, and people without pressure was nice. The keeping on a schedule thing failed, leading to an average of 4 hours sleep a night. Losing contact with family and friends because I couldn’t stand the pressure of “how are you?” and “what’s going on in your life?” Clinging to Warcraft because repetitively farming was better than clawing open my back or neck again, and the people there were ok with some rando dropping out of sight on a dime, and only a persistent few had the grace and spirit to make it past some serious defensive issues of mine.

I stopped writing. Stopped caring about Gargoyles, stopped being able to see into that AU I’d made for myself of a crazy clan and the weird human who survived cancer with them.

Stopped going on IM, for the same reasons I stopped talking to people.

I still kept track of some folks via LiveJournal. A handful of the Gargoyles folks who were determined, gods know why and thank you, since I know several are here on the tumbles and I genuinely love you to bits.

I quit my job after five years, because enough was enough between the fact that it had all the hallmarks of an abusive relationship and I was fucking tired of being a manager without any actual authority, and the endless hamster wheel of hiring and people quitting because it was a nice, but highly dysfunctional place.

I missed the customers, though. Several of them are here too, and it’s kinda funny ‘cause I know in at least one case I talked to them about Star Wars. I still hope they’re not too shellshocked that I kinda went down the rabbit hole pretty deep.

Started getting more sleep. Not less anxiety, not less depressed. Tried out a few depression medications, with very mixed results.

Then one day @dogmatix came into the LJ area I still hung out in. Enthusiastically recommending to all and sundry that if there is even a shred of interest in Star Wars, THERE IS THIS THING YOU SHOULD READ.

She drew a Wookiee. That was a character?

I’d always liked Wookiees.

And I needed something to read.

Star Wars was one of those things, from back in the day before things went to shit. Low investment, since if I didn’t like it or didn’t care, then eh. Whatevs.  Dogmatix was one of the Gargs holdouts still in my circle (or whatever it is that I was hovering at the edges of), and in the past I’d liked her recommendations more often than I disliked them.

I’m also endlessly weak to her art.

Wookiee.

So I did that thing. That so many of us here have done. It took me about 2 weeks to get through Re-Entry. It had trouble taking root in the depression, but Obi-Wan going crackers was something I could empathize with and appreciate.

There was the hope that had been missing from the EU novels I’d tried reading back in the day.

There was Wookieepedia, which meant I could stop and see what a Nautolan was. I had tabs open for DAYS so when someone named Adi or Gallia who were apparently the same person? I could see who that was. I got stupidly distressed that Abella didn’t have an entry, until I twigged and checked for a Chitanook, and holy shit I could never tell what character was going to crop up as canon, obscure EU character, or home brewed.

I honestly expected to set it aside, get updates as they happened, and gradually step away because that’s how things were going at the time.

But I still needed something to read, to stave off empty hours when my brain was too full of screaming.

On Ebon Wings. I’d loved The Crow when I’d seen it back in high school, and that story tapped into the powerful visuals and the lovely message I’d adored and in ways I still don’t quite understand it somehow validated that I could be mad and still be ok. Maybe. Maybe not now, but someday.

Maybe.

So I gave in and got a Tumbl. I’d been a stubborn holdout, regularly checking the same half dozen feeds daily because dammit, I don’t wanna go through the trouble and I was close to giving up on LJ and another journaly thing? That was stupid. But I wanted to follow Flamethrower and Dogmatix, and it made it infinitely easier to follow several blogs (and oh GODS one of those is a mutual and holy fuck I swear I screamed the day that happened and it’s still a high to realize).

Dogmatix wrote Möbius and Accidental Timeshare, wherein Venge goes universe hopping. That’s also a weakness of mine.

I’d been kvetching IRL about the treadmill and wanting something to watch, and someone mentioned in Dogmatix’s feed The Clone Wars – which conveniently was on Netflix. So I figured what the hell. I was disinclined to like clones – ‘cause yeesh, they’re the reason the Jedi all died, and yeah, ok, the Order was SERIOUSLY FUCKED UP, but.

I still had never seen Episodes 2 or 3.

I turned on the Clone Wars movie, and within ten minutes I nearly fell off the back of the treadmill due to crying.

THIS was the Star Wars of my youth. THIS was what I remembered. A little grim. Lots of quips.

That sound. Lightsabers igniting. A-wings rumbling overhead. Blasterfire, and that music.

I had to stop and calm down and for the first time in ages WRITE [, because I just had to ramble about how it all hit me in the feels]. I had no idea I’d missed this.

By the end of the movie I’d decided ok, I wanted more. Wasn’t sold on these clone fellas, and damned if I could tell one set of armor from another (this is ALSO due to the treadmill screen being calibrated to be a compromise of a very short person – me – and a very tall person, which means neither person gets a decent view but that’s not what the treadmill tv is for).

I’d been told there was an order to the episodes, but I didn’t care. Continuity is for those who think about the future, and I was still regularly suicidal.

So the first episode I watched was Yoda romping around a planet, playing with droids while three clone troopers tried to babysit his mad little ass.

They had me, all in one episode. I loved these guys. They had individuality, I could tell them apart by the voices (which is sometimes just as important to me as visuals) even if I couldn’t name them, and the personalities –

They were loyal. Their primary concern was old batty Yoda which I had adored as a child because MUPPETS. They were willing to die to keep him safe and there was this lovely reciprocity in taking care of each other and all of them, clones and Jedi alike were doomed to extinction and I don’t think I knew yet HOW the clones were except they weren’t in the OT so there was shit going down.

Tragic figures, loyal found family, incredible voice acting, Batty Old Yoda who OH YEAH FUCKING KICKED SO MUCH ASS I COULD NEVER GET ENOUGH.

I wanted to keep those three clones. I was willing to keep them all.

Final blow, that knocked me into the fandom so hard I’ll be surprised if I ever leave?

THIS.

The origins of Balance. This is the post that started a simple notion, to try to write something when I’d gone….anywhere from 7 to 10 years of not writing A SINGLE. DAMNED. THING of substance – and that was after thinking I might try to get a degree related to it.

Darth Wraith was a tentative idea. I was scared @deadcatwithaflamethrower would be irked I wanted to play in her sandbox (oh my gods I was inserting myself into a conversation with her this amazing person who wrote blindingly well and so damn much and how the FUCK was I daring to speak up about a silly half DREAM I’d had because once again I couldn’t sleep).

Then, because I was trying to break out of the depression, the cycles of mental ill health, and if I was on this tumbls thing, fuck it, I’d try the IM thing again.

I’d been gone long enough that pretty much no one on my contact list was still there. That…was ok. There wasn’t the pressure.

And Dogmatix popped on, asking if I wanted to share details about this Sith Qui-Gon thing.

I had A SCENE. ONE. SCENE. And she was spinning it off into this EPIC, which at first I was gleeful because she had neat ideas and I couldn’t wait to see what she would do with it and then wait, she’s not talking about writing it herself, this is more about something WE could work on.

Thank gods it was IM, because I had a little panic about commitment to a project when I regularly was sure I wasn’t going to see tomorrow and if I didn’t wake up one morning that’d be MORE than ok.

Still. There was that itch. The visuals in my brain. The characters I’d started to like in Flamethrower’s universe, which had formed my mental voices for them.

The only sound in my head for so long was just screaming.

Writing down that scene in Knock On Effect, where Venge meets Wraith – that felt good. It never changed much from the first draft to what was posted. The rest grew, and quickly. It was clear if we were doing this, then there were multiple stories, spanning in universe years.

And then there were spinoffs. Wonderful ideas and plots spiraling away from this one notion, and gods I wanted to write about those glorious clones.

How’d I get into Star Wars?

Chance. One strange little step at a time, and a bunch of miracles and horrors that kept me bleeding but not dying. Damn good fic. The kindness of friends. The generosity of strangers.

The tragedy of a once great order of space monks, and their allies-forced-to-be-betrayers clones.

One little picture, of Qui-Gon Jinn with Sith eyes.

[gladogpunkt]

o raiar da aurora quem dormir agora vai perder a horaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

oh my fucking god it’s been a while, almost 2 years maybe that i don’t write anything here.

i’d make that basic bitch scandal like OH MY GOD 2017PAST LUCAS YOU CHANGED SO MUCH, but i think we already knew it even if was kinda hard to see at some point.

high school finished, the last year was catastrophic like a good teen +18 movie (ok it was kinda boring but there were some really major moments)

anyway fuck its past and blablablablablabla

my mama found weed, oh i’m in college, yeah crazy but still feel like a kid inside somehow, i know i can grow more

--------------------------------ANYYYYYYWAYYYYYYYYYYYY------------------

i just wanted to say to myself that im still struggling with some stuff, right now with the fact that studyin film it’s harder than i thought, not because of the classes and content, because of the fucking students, rich people that think are cute are really annoying.

OH SO YOU LIKE“INSERT FAMOUS CULT DIRECTOR SO PEOPLE THINK YOU ACTUALLY CAN HOLD A CAMERA”

and nope honney its not jealousy, at least i think, i mean why would i envy disrespecful people, like wtfuck

anyway some random boy really stressed me out, im trying to get better at writing scripts and YOUR COMMENT DIDN’T HELP ME TOUGH even tough it wasnt about my writing in general ANYWAY he’s annoying i dont wanna feel hate but im kinda feeling it

ok lets talk about the good parts

im doing an internship and i think i’ll be hired next month, im PSICHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH (fuck writting things right wrightkkkk)

anyway i really wanna grow as person there, its the place i feel the healthiest *mentally* and i feel like im learning more than at classes (but flora teaches really well tho)

anyway dunno whats gonna happen next, don’t care about love life because i blocked that im good with no having it

actually men are disgusting, christ WASTE MY YOUNGHOOD ON DICK??????????????????????????????? LIKE MY MOM??????????????????????????????WW NOPE THANKS

i hope i wont bite my tongue

also i wanna know more about after effects, buy the wacom even tho im not quite sure whats gonna be like tho

i also wanna see my friends well, like my brother too, get that boy 3 classes so he finds meaning to his life

i also hope my haird GROWS MORE AND LOOKS LEGIT uhhhhhhhcant wait man

i don’t know what to write anymore im becoming depressed bye 

just kiddin

i wanna know more about fl stuff too

i wanna go to level at least once to try it and do cocaine

kidding

but i miss the weed tho

cause there’s a thing

i know im in a good position now studying and working on this i like doing (not saying love cause i just love cheese) but i still feel really down sometimes, desmotivated even when im there

anyway i hope i can understand myself and things that upsets me clearly so i can work on that

wanna go to lari still tho 

anyway im goin’ bye see u next 34567890 centuries

also i hope my idea for the short film (the clown black and white romance stuff) works

but right know i have to think how to shoot a police scene written for that annoying group (idk how i feel about them but i have some annoying faces on my mind and im still trying to deal and learn why it botters me so much sometimes)

ANYWAY BYE BITCHES