#every attempt i make to make myself understood just makes people angry

[lucyvaleheart]

.

[serial-serializednovelreader]

Nova’s Notes - Dracula Daily - July 26

In which Mina is anxious….

“I am anxious, and it soothes me to express myself here; it is like whispering to one's self and listening at the same time. And there is also something about the shorthand symbols that makes it different from writing.”

RIP Mina, you would’ve loved the internet and having your own Tumblr blog :( for real though, it’s good she has some kind of outlet she can use to express herself and let her anxiety out on paper. I do wonder if part of the reason she likes the shorthand is it’s indecipherable to most people and because it reminds her of Jonathan!

“I am unhappy about Lucy and about Jonathan. I had not heard from Jonathan for some time, and was very concerned; but yesterday dear Mr. Hawkins, who is always so kind, sent me a letter from him. I had written asking him if he had heard, and he said the enclosed had just been received. It is only a line dated from Castle Dracula, and says that he is just starting for home. That is not like Jonathan; I do not understand it, and it makes me uneasy.”

This must be very difficult for her. Imagine the two people you care for the most — the two people you go to when you need comfort — and they’re the ones you’re worried about. First, we get her worries about Jonathan. Unfortunately, she hasn’t heard from him at all and only gets this one line Mr. Hawkins received from him. This is enough to make her “uneasy”. Understandably so. From what we know of Jonathan, he would never write just one line and he would never send it to only Mr. Hawkins. What can we infer? Dracula never sent any of Jonathan’s letters to Mina, even the ones Dracula commanded him to send. I’m assuming this is because of the incident where Jonathan attempted to send Mina a coded message in shorthand. But how would Dracula have known that letter was to Mina? Well, either Jonathan didn’t write the address part in shorthand, or Dracula understood the shorthand. There’s one thing Dracula didn’t account for, however: that not sending letters to Mina would be suspicious in and of itself. This shows he doesn’t understand the power of Jonathan and Mina’s connection.

One more thing to note here: Mina isn’t upset, sad or angry Jonathan didn’t reach out to her: she’s uneasy. Why? She doesn’t understand this move from him. Mina knows Jonathan very well and she knows what to expect of him. I’m not saying he’s predictable (although he might be a bit predictable — perhaps in the sense that he always sends detailed letters to her, or that he enjoys a certain kind of meal once a week, etc.), I’m just saying she understands him in a way most people do not. So when he does something like this, something so unexpected that she doesn’t understand it? Yes, she’s going to be anxious! Her spidey-senses are tingling for a reason….

“Then, too, Lucy, although she is so well, has lately taken to her old habit of walking in her sleep. Her mother has spoken to me about it, and we have decided that I am to lock the door of our room every night. Mrs. Westenra has got an idea that sleep-walkers always go out on roofs of houses and along the edges of cliffs and then get suddenly wakened and fall over with a despairing cry that echoes all over the place. Poor dear, she is naturally anxious about Lucy, and she tells me that her husband, Lucy's father, had the same habit; that he would get up in the night and dress himself and go out, if he were not stopped.”

And then there’s Lucy with a scary habit of sleep-walking. Now, keep in mind: this is an old habit she has started up again — one she has from her father. Just keep in mind this is something she already had, not a new thing that just cropped up. Her mother is being very overprotective, but I guess it is a valid concern to not want your daughter walking around at night, especially if you saw your husband get dressed and actually leave the house for years!

“Lucy is to be married in the autumn, and she is already planning out her dresses and how her house is to be arranged. I sympathise with her, for I do the same, only Jonathan and I will start in life in a very simple way, and shall have to try to make both ends meet. Mr. Holmwood—he is the Hon. Arthur Holmwood, only son of Lord Godalming—is coming up here very shortly—as soon as he can leave town, for his father is not very well, and I think dear Lucy is counting the moments till he comes. She wants to take him up to the seat on the churchyard cliff and show him the beauty of Whitby. I daresay it is the waiting which disturbs her; she will be all right when he arrives.”

Awww an autumn wedding! This just fuels my headcanon that autumn is Arthur’s favorite season!!!!! (Context here, there are spoilers in this ask though!)

I love that while Mina acknowledges her and Jonathan will not be able to afford luxuries Lucy and Arthur will have, there’s no sense of bitterness or jealousy here: only sympathy for the planning aspect! We love to see women supporting women — take notes, Dracula adaptations.

Poor Arthur :( hopefully seeing Lucy will give him a boost. And given that Lucy is counting down the minutes to seeing him and planning where to spend time with him (funny enough, Mina references the same place she was at a couple of days before — I suppose she told Lucy about what a great spot it was). And I feel called out for that last sentence — I, too, feel disturbed waiting for someone I like and then when I see them I’m like “yay :D” as if it was never an issue.

That’s it for this one!

[itsnotmyfaultsomepeoplecantread]

"Am I actually autistic," I whisper, while picking out half of the vegetables from my soup because they make the texture wrong. "What if everyone was right and I am just choosing to be a mess, and there isn't any other explanation for my weirdness," I say, reciting my ABCs backwards, and listening to the same song on a loop because it keeps me focused and calm. "I don't even have special interests," I say, knowing full well that I get wildly invested in specific shows/movies/information, and have re-watched a niche TV show about thieves dozens upon dozens of times because it makes me happy, and I get exhausted by too many new pieces of media.

"Are my support needs even valid," I scream, on the phone with my mom during a panic attack that was triggered by the wind unpredictably whistling through the pipes. "Is my level of social anxiety and unresponsiveness enough," I ask, thinking about how my remarkably vivid memories since the age of two are primarily filled with a life wrought with social struggles, which have never, ever gone away, even after years of practicing small talk and rehearsing conversations in my head in never-ending loops.

"What if I'm just broken," I sob, quietly, knowing that before my diagnosis, no treatments worked because my brain is functionally different, and I don't have control over what that looks like. "What that's not the answer," I say, texting my partner who sits on the couch next to me, because I have lost my words, and thinking of how no one ever noticed my verbal shutdowns because my silence was preferable to my occasional periods of babbling. "What if I'm not even autistic," I whisper, quietly, into a dark room of memories of everyone that has ever told me how deeply weird and wrong I am, but act surprised when I tell them I'm autistic.

As I ask myself these questions, I wrap myself in the perfectly-textured sweater that was the closest thing I could find to the ancient, hole-filled one I cried over when I left it on the plane at 22 years old. The sleeves of my sweater cover scars from a decade of picking at my skin. The picking helps me process the day's social interactions, and attempt to understand my own mysterious emotions.

The exhaustion it yields is unbearable. I tire of fighting to be heard, yet struggling to explain with the accuracy I desire. Of constantly hearing how everyone "is a little autistic," because I cannot possibly be disabled if I have spent years trying desperately to learn basic small talk. Because most people don't care to learn, or to reach behind the mask and see what lies beneath. They don't know me. And yet, despite their doubts, I find myself torn apart when they inevitably get frustrated by my inability to read invisible boundaries between faintly marked lines. I follow the social cues I am told to follow, and still I get it wrong.

The lack of trust builds the walls that so few have been able to breach. Even fewer remain welcome, becoming those whom I treasure with undying loyalty. I remain honest and open, my idealism and empathy wanting so desperately for people to be as good as I know they can be. But that doesn't prevent the rejections from haunting me, convincing me that my existence is wrong.

It haunts me.

So, I spiral. I think of how much I copy others, at the cost of my own identity. I think, too, of my stubborn refusal to do what everyone else is doing or is telling me to do, and of every time that I have panicked over something that no one else understood. I think of how many times I have felt like an outsider; of how many times I sought out the company of my teachers to that of my peers. I think of every test that I cried on, while others laughed at me — of how deeply depressed and angry it made me, knowing that they would never understand. And I worry that I don't even fit the standard of normal for my own diagnoses. I worry that I am this way by choice. I worry that I am judged. I worry.

But as the worry hits me like violent ocean waves, I let it wash over me until the feeling calms. And I finally let it go.

[swiftsgirlfriend]

𝖿𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽: 𝖺 𝖿𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽.

─────────────────

𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗌&𝗐𝖺𝗋𝗇𝗂𝗇𝗀𝗌.bradley bradshaw x unnamed, sad??

𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝗉𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇.bradley bradshaw. a tormented, grief-stricken, lovesick soul. this is the story, of the love of his life. how they began, the lessons she taught him and the tragic ending, that seemed as if it was fated by the Gods

𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍.

─────────────────

AUGUST 13TH 2017.

My name is Bradley Bradshaw, and this is the story of the greatest love of my life. For the sake of privacy, she will remain nameless. Her name isn’t important anyway, as I do not believe our story is individual to us, or unique in any way. Our love was born from grief and pain, built to fall apart, crafted as a cruel lesson; allegorical. Our love was seemingly written in the stars, fated. The ending, also fated, but perhaps written by Shakespeare instead, as a great tragedy of the 17th century.

Yesterday, August 12th 2017, I attended the funeral of my sweet, darling girl. It was open invitation, and I am thankful it was, as I am certain not many people knew about us. Sometimes, it makes me angry to think that she did not want people to know of us. But most of the time, I am grateful. I am grateful because our love, was ours. In a world, where no-one owns anything, our love was truly ours, because no-one knew. It didn’t need to be shouted from the rooftops. People didn’t have to know about our love for it to be real. We knew, every morning that we awoke in each-other’s arms that it was real. Every laugh we shared, every time we danced together, every time we made love, every everything we ever did together made our love real. She taught me that.

Which is, coincidentally, the reason I am writing this. My love, was never one to succumb to unrealistic standards for herself. She knew who she was, she deeply understood herself, and she knew her place in life. She seemed to understand the universe’s darkest secrets. I wouldn’t have been surprised to find out, that God told them to her Himself.

My point is she knew a lot. She taught me a lot. And the older I become, I realise the more I am bound to forget. Over time my memory will fade, and the memories of the lessons she taught me, will become dusty books on the shelves of my mind. I cannot let it become that. I could remember her face until my dying day. But I know the day I forget the things she taught me, what we went through together, is the day I lose myself. So I will preserve these memories, cement them in my skull, the only way I know how; the written word.

I once promised her, that no matter what happened, no matter if she died, or I died, no matter if there was a nuclear war or if the sun swallowed the Earth, our souls would stay entwined, and I would never, ever forget the time we shared. I cannot break that promise.

I am a weak man. My life has shaped me into one. But I am strong-willed in one way. I am strong-willed in the sense that my promise to her will stay strong, above anything else.

That is what this is, for context, I suppose. A dying man’s last-ditch attempt, to keep a dead girl’s sacred promise. A dying man, reliving his glory days, the days when he was in love with the most spine-crushingly, beautiful soul, this planet has ever seen. A dying man, telling his love story. A love story that may be like every other one that has ever been fathomed, one that you may have heard a thousand times before. But I think I will write it anyway. And if you decide to read it, I’m certain you will end up like me. Inescapably, hopelessly, painfully, in love. With her.

─────────────────────────────────────

EEEK!! im so proud of myself for actually finishing something for once. i quite like how this turned out, although it is short. i just wanted to preface this by saying this series was inspired by: lolita by vladimir nabokov (not in a pedo way), norwegian wood by murakami, the fault in our stars by john green, 500 days of summer and a series of unfortunate events! playlist coming soon. also this is written in the chat font because it is supposed to be bradley writing on a typewriter!

tagging mutuals:

@mak-32 @waklman @cruelmissdior @sebsxphia @southpawbitch @roosterbruiser @roosterforme @hangmans-wingman @teacupsandtopgun @tongue-like-a-razor

[whumpshaped]

∆ (i hope youre still doing these hhh) i might be missing something about vampire hierarchies and how things work and exactly how much power sires have over their little vampire babies, but i must ask helle this after reading about them being crucified or i will implode:

How can you still miss your siblings after they did such awful things to you without even sparing a glance? I am a firm believer of cutting anyone who hurt you out of your life at the first opportunity, especially family on the principal that you never outright choose to be part of a family like this in the first place. And they certainly hurt you, even if under the order of someone else! And even after that, after a simple order from your sire and all that pain and betrayal, you still tried to help them? You still miss them to this day? Think about them? You must be the kindest, most forgiving person if you do. I know for a fact if that happened to me, while I may have been forced into submission at the time, looking back on it I would be endlessly bitter and angry, maybe even vengeful. Perhaps you did similar things to them under familiar circumstances when ordered, and I just don't get it. Maybe they apologized after, or even offered to be hurt in return. I know vampires heal and all, but you must have remained deeply scarred from that situation only, if only on a mental level, and I'm sure that wasn't the only time something like this happened. So I don't get it. Is it just a longing for people who understand you? Some form of twisted nostalgia?

10/10

"Of course I am bitter and angry. It was– It was one of the worst things that I have ever endured." They open their mouth to say something else, to continue yelling about how unfair it all was... but their anger seems to fizzle out as quickly as it came. They pause for a long moment, looking for the words to explain something that can probably never be properly conveyed.

"We have all done things to each other that we regret," they say quietly. "I... did not understand it at the time, why they refused to even look at me. I understood it later on, when I realised just how horrifying it was watch someone you love get hurt. Hurt by you, regardless of orders. There were plenty of times when I refused to look. Plenty of times when I did, out of defiance, out of a desperate need to remember, just so I could repay the lady someday. That day never came. Her death was quick and painless."

"I was bitter when I realised they would never stand up for me. When I realised I came centuries too late for them to still have the sort of naivety that would make them engage in futile rebellion. It made me want to stand up for them, so that maybe... maybe they would get that spark back. All it did was get me hurt beyond measure. I stopped blaming them, after a while."

"When Aurora–" They suddenly cut themself off, and for a moment you think they're holding back tears. "When Aurora got turned and the lady started 'training her', I... I did not have it in me to stand up for her anymore. Again and again, after every single one of her escape attempts, I went out and brought her back. I dragged her, kicking and screaming, to that wretched room with the silver whips. She begged me much the same as I begged my siblings that night on the cross. I could not bear to look at her."

"Some days, I am angry with them. I am angry with myself. Most of all, I am furious with the lady. I am bitter that after my only act of meaningful rebellion, they still decided to run off and leave me." They give you a sad smile. "I suppose they thought it best to cut me off. And maybe I am stupid for missing them so terribly, but what am I to do? If I could stop on command... If I could stop on command, maybe I would. As it is, however..."

They sigh, wiping their eyes before the tears have a chance to overflow. "I like to tell myself I would turn them away. That I would reject them the same way I felt they rejected and abandoned me; but I doubt I could. They will always have a place here, I think. If they wanted it."

[otterandterrierwrites]

How about

33

19

14

14 Days of Scoundress 2024 ♥ February 13th

Making amends

‘I don't know what you want me to tell you, Han, you know I’m busy—I need to get this done today.’

She barely looked up at Han when she spoke, which more or less confirmed what he feared. Still, he persevered.

‘C’mon, you’re sayin’ you can’t take some time to have lunch with me? The galaxy ain’t gonna be saved in ten minutes, Leia.’

Her jaw tightened in clear annoyance. 

‘You know lunch doesn’t take ten minutes. A protein bar does, which I have right here,’ Leia said, patting her desk drawer.

‘Sweetheart,’ he tried in a softer tone, leaning back on her desk, ‘you’ve been livin’ out of those things for the past week. You need a proper meal, and to get outta here for a bit. I’ve barely even seen you home. What do I gotta do, make an appointment with your secretary?’

Leia slammed her stylus down on her desk, eyes flashing up at him under a frown.

‘I’m really sorry I can’t prioritize being your girlfriend the week before we’re supposed to put war criminals on trial, Han,’ she told him, her voice like burning ice. ‘I thought you’d understand more than anyone that I might not be able to do a dinner date—’

‘You don’t have to patronize me.’

‘Oh, I’m patronizing you?’ she hissed, an effort to keep her voice from spilling out of her office. ‘I think I don’t need you to take care of myself!’

Han grit his teeth. 

‘No, ‘course you don’t, what was I thinking. You’re perfectly capable of lookin’ after yourself. I’m sure you even find time to brush your teeth if you put it down on your calendar.’ He knocked down on her desk. ‘I’ll get out of your hair now, Your Highness.’

He stormed out of her office without looking back. There were often a million and one things on Leia’s plate, and people still believed they could fit in a million and two, so she did, too. Han remembered that Leia well: for three years, he’d watched as she wrapped herself up in her work so nothing and nobody could get through, convinced that she could work herself to the bone and still keep going. Rebuffing, then grudgingly accepting Han’s attempts to keep her alive as a person, not just a cog in a war machine. So he wasn’t hurt by her words—he was worried. He hadn’t seen that Leia in a long time. And he understood that the trials would be the one thing to bring her back out, but—he didn’t have to like it.

For now, he figured he’d give her some space, and hope that she came around in her own time.

------------------------------------------------

Leia found Han catching up on the Agrilat swoop races at home. After he’d left her office earlier in the day, she had stewed in her annoyance as she worked, blaming him for the distraction that would slow her down. As evening fell, she’d felt depleted. Her brain had replayed every one of her words to him—words he hadn’t deserved. She’d suddenly felt like she was back in the war, staving off feeling with action. The trials hadn’t even started yet, and she was already letting them take their toll on her and her relationship, just so she didn’t have to face all the emotions they were bringing up.

She wasn’t the same person she was during the war, though. Didn’t want to be. That person had been too angry and scared of ever feeling a pain as big as Alderaan again, so instead, she’d tried to numb herself down. If it hadn’t been for Han, maybe she would have succeeded. This time, it was on her to make the choice to break out of her shell.

Han looked over his shoulder at the sound of the front door opening, then turned off the viewscreen and waited as she sat down next to him on the sofa, tucking her feet under her.

‘I’m sorry,’ she started. ‘I do need you, it turns out. It’s just been so… so…’

‘I know,’ Han interrupted her, saving her from having to put all the overwhelm she’d been feeling into words. ‘But you don’t have to let it kill you. Don’t let ‘em have that kind of power over you.’

Nodding, Leia leaned forward, sealing their reconciliation with a kiss. Han wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his lap, and she settled in comfortably, fingers threading through his hair as she tilted his head back and deepened the kiss.

‘Do you have to go back to work tonight?’ Han asked, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the length of her body as he trailed his fingers down her throat. ‘Or can I request Her Senatorship’s presence for a meeting about stress relief?’

‘Mm… that wasn’t on my itinerary today,’ Leia told him, pulling his bottom lip lightly between her teeth. ‘But… yes, I think I can fit you in, hotshot.’

******* Prompts:

33: as an apology

19: “That wasn’t in my itinerary today.”

14 swapped for 15: [bite] a playful kiss that involves some light biting

[heightjoke]

it's so crazy to me that I explained myself to having no motivation to do art as an artist and not knowing how to navigate that being ADHD and Autistic.

then some people (irl) ask a load of questions implying that I am inherently wrong for not having that, "all artists must have passion or how can they be artists?"

so I clarify passionately about my disabilities because it's my current special interest, then people tell me I am "clearly very angry" about it and should drop the topic if it makes me "that mad".

and then I clarify - oh no I'm just very passionate about being clear and understandable and my disabilities being understood properly- and then they keep insisting I'm clearly upset and frustrated

SO NATURALLY I GET FRUSTRATED AND UPSET BECAUSE YOU ARE SEEMINGLY DELIBERATELY NOT LISTENING TO ME

and then I get "see! I knew you were upset."

my motivation to do art is no driving force, it is an extension of my body, like an additional limb. it comes naturally to me because being human is (mostly) natural to me. it's not a passion, but a fact of life for me. I do not need passion, motivation, or a drive to do my art simply because I will do it regardless, as a human.

I couldn't find the words at the time to understand that. Those were the words I was searching for, and needed time to verbally and mentally process over months.

people often get fed up with me being a very repetitive person (despite this being a literal characteristic of autism) and having to verbally process my situations because, bluntly, it takes a very long time for me to mentally understand what happens in my discussions and actions every single day. This has led me to be labelled an "overthinker" ever since I was little.

In reality, I wanted more than anything to fit in, blend in, and understand what tf is happening. THAT is where my frustration lies. So when I FINALLY understand something and I am able to explain it, and people tell me I probably overthought it, or I am just flat out wrong is (to me) a denial of my reality.

People were right, I didn't need an explanation to be an artist. But what I needed to unlock the words to help me understand my practice as an artist was a gentle, curiosity focused discussion.

I regret attempting to do that with friends and not my parents or a mentor.

[land-of-birds-and-comics]

so about four years ago i wanted to spend twelve years torturing scrooge (and i'd like to say it's in a funny way, but i've actually made myself irreparably sentimental) about that one time donald disappeared. since it's just a series of vignettes i will try and see how far i get :) hopefully not in real time.

part 1 is here

part 5:

The phone rings…

—

Grandma asks the boys how they're doing, and they say they're fine. They say they've been accompanying their uncle on business trips. They say they're learning a lot about modern agriculture, even if it isn't anything good. Recently, they had to learn about squatter laws and the legal rights of the undead, too. They're receiving a highly diversified and practical education.

The four of them have a riveting conversation about topsoil and whether it might benefit from the presence of the howling spirits of the damned, at least in the sense of driving unsustainable farming operations away, and then they say good night, grandma, we love you, and she says good night, boys. I love you, too.

—

Gyro tells the boys about another prephysical, postphysical, extraphysical or superphysical phenomenon he's been researching every other week, expressing great distress over the fact that he started building his time machine before he fully understood it. Most of the words he uses have more syllables in them than there are people in the world who could explain them, but they listen to him, anyway.

The call is largely one-sided - Gyro doesn’t so much as pause to take a breath during which they could interrupt him - until he concludes, and they tell him to take care of himself, and he tells them that he’ll try.

—

More and more often, the boys ask Grandma what their uncle was like when he was their age, and what it was like to raise him, and she can only tell them that he was always going to be himself.

He was always there to help her when it counted, no matter how loudly he complained. It was easy for the other kids to make him angry, and it was easy for him to retaliate, but it was impossible to make him so angry that he wouldn’t come back for them. He could pick up any skill, but only if it interested him, and if it did, he seemed to have little ability to do anything else. He was just as adventurous as them, endlessly curious and heedless of the consequences.

He was her nephew, and her grandson, and… he was her boy, so he was perfect. Just like the three of them were always, at the end of the day, going to be perfect to him, and to her.

He was perfect to them, too, they say. 

—

For three months now, the phone has been ringing at five in the morning on the dot every single day, and lately, it’s been waking him up more often than not. Whenever he’s already awake for it, he thinks of the boys and feels vaguely guilty.

He can never get to sleep after the call, either. If he works through the night, he just sits at his desk, head in one hand, and rubs at his little helper’s head while he recharges.

—

The moment Grandma picks up, her attempt at a greeting is drowned out by three loud little voices, talking over each other in uncharacteristically uncoordinated outrage. He did it again, they say. What, she says. The thing, they say, the thing, the dumbest thing in the whole wide world that he could possibly do and does do on a regular basis because he’s the world’s dumbest duck.

It was like this, he had the forest, and the plans to tear it down, and the contract, of course! The conditions on which he wouldn’t do it. And he went behind their back to fill the conditions, and then he acted like they beat him. Who does that? And more than once? And why go to the trouble of something so stupidly expensive and complicated as importing endangered birds?

Well, she says, at least the forest was saved, but the kids won’t be soothed this time. He can’t keep doing this. He should know that they’re not stupid little babies anymore. They could do it all on their own. And he didn’t have to do it at all! What’s wrong with him? He must’ve agreed with them, so why didn’t he? 

They just want to talk to him. He never talks to them for real. 

—

Gyro has been steeling himself. He’s considered all possible responses: Bawling, yelling, silence. Worst of all, another endlessly kind and patient acknowledgement of the facts he, himself, still isn’t ready to acknowledge, and from people one third his age. He chokes on the words again and again, until, finally, he confesses that he’s started working on other projects on the side, just to keep the lights on.

The boys are shocked into silence on the other end of the line, but mostly because they had no idea that this hadn’t already been the case. He’s not sure what to say to that.

—

Did uncle Scrooge ever love uncle Donald? They’re just curious. They just miss him. They just need to know.

Elvira almost responds on autopilot, the same way anyone in their family would: Scrooge is just bad at connecting with people. Scrooge is just too prideful to admit it. Of course he does, and he always has, and he always will.

But she gets the sense that they’re really asking a different question. And she still wants to say it, and she wants to make up for what he won’t say, and she wants them to be a family, but then, there also has to be a limit. These boys do deserve better. Even Scrooge deserves better than to be coddled like this.

Scrooge certainly loved him when he needed him, she thinks, and then realises that this would be catastrophic to say. He loved him when he was there for him? He loved him when…

He loved him on the day before Christmas, when he was just ten years old. Donald had planned a snowball ambush that enraged his uncle until it escalated into an avalanche that almost impressed him, until he felt justified in fighting back at full force.

They came inside soaked and freezing and chattering and Scrooge, having forgotten all about the evils of federally mandated bank holidays, laughed out loud about how he’ll have to get bigger if he really wants to fight him, and he’ll have to get a whole lot smarter if he ever wants to beat him.

Donald said he could beat him at anything, and that one day, he could even be a better businessman than him, if he wanted to. And Scrooge clapped an arm around his shoulder in front of the fireplace and said that that’s great news. He always did want an heir.

And he loved him, then. She’s sure of it. She can’t be sure of anything else.

Uncle Donald always loved uncle Scrooge, they say. Not just on the day before Christmas.

And she says- Well, they were never perfect to each other. Maybe that’s the difference. They always wanted the other to change, and they never did, but they also never stopped wanting it. She’s not sure what to call that. 

The boys don’t say anything.

There’s love everywhere, she says. They’re never going to run out, not if they keep looking. That’s what matters. They just have to keep looking.

—

The phone rings…

[thatsmazee]

little bachisagi fantasy au heheh they’re so silly i love them.

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Taking care of a trouble maker

One, two, three, four… he kept counting his steps as an attempt to distract himself from his wounds. Approximately one hundred meters separated him from his destination. He prayed his body wouldn’t betray him now and continued to put one leg in front of the other. Fifty meters, forty, thirty, twenty… he reached the door, grabbed the hang and knocked.

After what seemed like hours a boy opened the door.

“Hey…”

“I knew it…get in.” Isagi wasn’t angry, he could tell by the tone of his voice, it certainly was low, but not angry or at least not with him.

Entering the studio once again brought him the sensation of affection he’d missed for some days. He really liked the place, even though it was messy with all the potions, ingredients, and the big caldron in the centre of the room. The bookshelves were a bit dusty and some of the books had fallen on the floor but the sorcerer didn’t seem to care. The air was warm and the smell reminded him of honey and mint, not too strong or too bland, it was perfect, calming and welcoming.

“Who was it?” The silence fell as the sorcerer spoke.

He hesitated “Mmh. I’d say poachers.”

“Sit on that chair and lay your legs on the pouf, I'll take care of that.”

Bachira looked at him gratefully, it wasn’t every day that a sorcerer offered a beast like him care.

“Thanks, Isagi,” he says low, like a whisper, and barely audible but the said boy still managed to catch that as he approached the wound.

“They knew the agreement…why would they hurt you… I'm sorry, Bachira.”

“Oh, it’s not your fault, please don’t afflict yourself.”

Bachira was smiling, Isagi noted. He had a wound from the clavicle to the sternum, at least one or two centimeters deep, but the angles of his mouth were still turned up. The scales on his cheeks were turning darker and his eyes were half lidded, his breath slightly irregular, but somehow he still had a serene expression.

“I’m concerned though, we came up with the agreement that we say we’re boyfriends to protect you since few people risk touching a sorcerer partner, and still, after all of this, they hurt you. That’s why I'm blaming myself. I should have been more careful, I should've watched over all the clans that threaten dragons… I could have stopped this.” The last phrase went out with a deep shaky breath and Bachira's eyes widened when he understood that Isagi was blaming himself for this.

“Sagii…I told you that this isn’t your fault,” he said, pointing to his wounded chest. “You’re taking care of me now, disinfecting my wound and stitching it."

His smile was so bright; and Isagi felt lighter. A comfort silence fell while the sorcerer proceeded with the medical care, interrupted only sometimes by Bachira whining.

“Ok, all done. Make sure you change the bandages when they get too dirty and take this infusion once a day, k?”

And, his eyes– full of care and worry for a boy that just caused him trouble. They weren’t lovers, like Isagi said it was just an agreement to make things easier, but there was still a deep connection between them. Fate brought them together and it didn’t seem to want to separate them soon. There was a platonic bond that the two loved, they were each other's comfort person, someone who you can tell secrets to, ask for advice, find comfort in their arms, cry and laugh.

Bachira was so grateful for him, he never really had a friend since he was seen as a scary and dangerous monster, but then Isagi appeared in his life and everything seemed to take the right direction.

“Come here, I'll make you dinner. Rice with raw egg right?”

The other boy nodded while thinking about how amusing it was that he still remembered his preferences after months. He happily walks towards Isagi, spying over his shoulder the movements of his hands cracking the eggs. The feeling of home was settled back into his heart.

“You can sleep here tonight, if you want of course.”

Bachira grins, “Did I ever tell you you’re the best?”

“A few times for what I can remember.”

The sound of laughter rapidly filled the house as the two boys enjoyed each other's company.

“You know I care a lot about you.”

“I care about you too.”

“Mh. Bachira, you know what I mean. If you couldn’t have escaped or your injury had been any worse, there's a possibility that you wouldn’t…be here,” he said that while pushing all the air out of his lungs. “And I would have blamed myself till the day I die.”

Bachira never really liked heart to heart conversations or had someone displaying their feelings so clearly, but if it was Isagi, everything seemed easier. He didn’t care when his eyes became glossy, a bunch of tears threatening to spill in seconds, he giggled and smiled because you know the saying “silence is worth more than a thousand words.” It isn't every day that your heart is so full with love that you cry tears of happiness. And as the sorcerer caressed the cheek of the boy he cared so much for, pulling him into a hug, the other wrapped his arms around his shoulders.

He was sure that on this night he found his soulmate.

——————————————————————————

I also posted it on ao3 if you want to check it out and leave kudos <3

twt: thatsmazee

go check out all the works for bachisagi week on twt

[ausetkmt]

A therapist shares the 9 things people want most in life: 'Forget everything else'

I spent years in therapy waiting for a therapist to ask me what I want. No one ever did.

So I distracted myself with small desires and big obstacles, pursuing some of what mattered to me while holding myself back in countless ways. I attached myself more to burdens than possibilities.

Finally, tired of feeling stuck, I became a psychotherapist to better understand the human experience. Based on my 10 years of practicing, I've found that there are nine things people want most in life — forget everything else:

1. To be loved

Love can be abstract and it can be concrete. It can be the act of snuggling. Saying the words "I love you." Or not saying the words but knowing they're felt. It's about showing up and comforting people. Or allowing them to help us.

But even when we have loving relationships, we can get so familiar with it that we forget to notice. Allow for some enchantment and fondness. What's small can still matter.

2. To be understood

When people's opinions of us clash with how we want to be seen, we feel alienated and isolated. But to be understood by others, we must first understand ourselves.

Think of your signature, the mark that makes you who you are, both internally and what you show the world. Wherever you go, whatever you do, there's a thread of continuity.

Never stop thinking about what it means to be you. It's a lifelong pursuit.

3. To have power

There are times when the desire for power is beautiful and life enhancing. But when our longing for power is an attempt to compensate for a lifelong deficit, we can zigzag between swelling visions of glory and crashing despair.

Embrace flexibility and moderation. Power isn't about control over others; it is about authenticity and authority. Stepping into your power can be your way of claiming adulthood and taking responsibility for your choices.

4. To have (and give) attention

"I haven't looked into my children's eyes for a very, very long time," one person confided to me at a moment of deep discovery. "I've been so angry at life, I forgot to notice this beautiful creature I created."

More and more, noticing her children helped her feel less wounded. Attending to them in a deep, attuned way healed something for her. By really seeing, she felt less deprived.

To feel more fulfilled, make a point of concentrating on an activity or topic that matters to someone you love.

5. To have freedom

For a teenager, freedom might mean not having a curfew. For an adult, it might mean setting your own work hours.

Ask yourself what kind of freedom you want. The freedom we pursued when we were 20 isn't necessarily the same freedom that's available at 60. Adjust the terms and conditions of your commitments.

6. To create

If you insist, you can have creative moments every day just by observing and being curious.

Express yourself imperfectly. Change your point of view about an issue. Take in something new and let out something personal. Experience something fresh.

7. To belong

At times, you might feel alienated and at odds. But if you can feel comfortable in being all that you are, you can experience not belonging with more ease, even with delight at times.

It's about being secure in all that you are, even the awkward, clumsy, oddball moments — especially those moments! If you're just trying to fit in, you will miss out on truly belonging.

8. To win

"I'm delighted with myself. I did brilliantly. Well done, me. I see that I'm skilled at doing this, and I have done an excellent job," a 55-year-old once said to me. "This feels like a win."

Consider what "winning" means to you. The definition changes and the rules vary. Honor your successes, however small.

9. To connect

[anxiouslyfred]

Fleer

Summary: On a day hanging out in town, Janus Remus and Virgil get harrassed by the same person multiple times. Eventually Janus decides to give them some new thoughts.

Authors Notes: The prompt I wrote myself for today was "Janus needs to fleer in a story, and leave with a geck too" According to An Emotion Dictionary a Fleer is "To mock; to smile snidely" and to geck is "to scoff: to flounce off" I did what I could to describe the action enough to be understood while writing but guessed actually including them in my notes would be helpful.

Warnings: Homophobia and Harrassment

/\/\

Speaking their mind was normal to Janus. They would do so at will, quite randomly, and usually do their best to ensure nobody around them knew if it was their true opinion or one echoed in order to gain something.

Today Janus didn't mind if their friends understood what they truly meant. What they cared about was if the asshole who'd kept running into them, insulting and threatening them felt insulted.

He'd started the first time they passed, noticing the rainbow sash that Remus had insisted on wearing, yelling a slur, but nothing more as their group headed into a shop. Janus hadn't cared then; Remus was laughing it off, and saying that he'd pass the compliments on to his brother when Roman demanded the sash was returned.

Then, after Virgil had caught up to them and insisted on dragging them into the music store; the jerk was there again. He'd followed them around the store, loudly declaring that he'd never listen to gay bands, and was making a list of who to avoid.

Remus had responded by that, going around the store to get all the most popular artists latest CD's, following the nods Janus made whenever the guy muttered about some specific artist would never support or be liked by the gays. They were fairly sure the guy would have to completely change his music taste if he really were to stop listening to every artist Remus brought a CD of that day, also that the likelihood of the card Remus was using to pay actually being his was lower than 0%.

After that shop they'd deliberately waited until the git had left and headed in the opposite direction, now without any distinct goals for their afternoon in mind they could go wherever they wanted.

Unfortunately, apparently the same angry moron turned up when they decided to indulge in some of histories horrors at the museum, and this time Janus had had enough.

“Yeah, come to hear about how dead you all should be.” The guy yelled over at them as soon as they moved into the art gallery that had been there for years, just rearranged over the time.

Janus fleered, back straightened, and eyes judging. “Actually we're learning about how much better the world is because of trans people. Perhaps you could do with paying attention to the exhibits here.” They stated, gesturing vaguely to the room before this.

“Yeah right. You a blight on humanity-” The guy attempted to counter, but they didn't let him.

“Who are part of the community responsible for computers as they are today. Completely responsible for numerous works of classic literature, and indubitably better citizens than a hate-filled, useless, layabout who hasn't done anything with this day and doubtless many more beyond criticising strangers.” The sneer widened on their face, and a glance at Virgil made them realise how empty their gaze must be. He always stepped further back if their gaze was too harsh.

The asshole was gaping, clearly trying to formulate another insult. “Don't stress yourself. I know you only have slurs in that brain of yours, nothing original worth hearing at all. Now we've got to carry on to learn about the queer influences on Theatre. I've heard there's some unmissable revelations about Shakespeare in the exhibit.” They turned with a flounce.

Janus tugged Remus and Virgil off with them. “Honestly, even the harassment nowadays is mediocre.” They mocked.

[sincelastsession]

I'm getting really upset about being in freeze mode and feeling like agoraphobia anxiety when I attempt to even leave my apartment.

I used to be able to go several places.

Now I feel overwhelmed even in the smallest store.

Like I feel like I'm gonna faint or throw up trying to get myself to go.

The last two times I have gone which was a while back I got creeped on but even before that stores were hard.

I get completely overwhelmed even if I have music playing. It's jarring and scary and there too many people and colors and I always have to look at everything and I never feel at ease or safe in the grocery store.

Like Aldi SHOULD be the best store for someone like me to get groceries in but it's just as bad as bigger flashier stores.

I used to have social anxiety but I could really give a fuck less about the grocery store NPCS now except the creepy men. Literally almost every time no fail a creepy man has come up to me while I have headphones in and either sexually harassed me or just straight up is rude or weird at me.

Dad thinks I'm paranoid abt it. Dad has never been harassed by men in public places. He is not there with me when I go places and he doesn't experience it.

Shopping with mom is chaos.

Travis helps when he can.

But no one enjoys shopping with me because despite me trying to turn it into an adventure it's not one for them as I gotta shop in a certain way where I gotta look at every row so I don't forget.

-----------

Today I was able to autopilot to the big Asian markets and it was 3x as expensive as it used to because the cost of living definitely went up again.

I am so goddamn stressed.

I am so goddamn mad.

I didn't get everything I needed.

I can't fucking function like I used to and I'm mad about it and there's not a goddamn thing I can do but stay in hypervigiliant frozen mode.

Because guess what.

I'm not getting to move.

That was BULLSHIT

Even though my doctor is very worried about me.

A grippy sock vacation ain't gonna help shit.

I can't relax. If I don't smoke for pain then I can't do ANYTHING

Grocery shopping has me in bed from one store.

I needed to go 4 places.

I don't have people bandwidth at all.

I can't deal with loud noises at random.

I'm completely overstimulated and hypervigiliant and allllll my other problems are set off.

I know what would fix it all but there's no way to do it.

I'm about to literally ask someone to start taking pictures and manage a fucking onlyfans for me but I REALLY don't want to resort to that. I don't understand how others do it confidently and just sell themselves and it likely wouldn't be good for my cptsd traumas either

How the hell does dad expect me to switch to a phone plan and try to adjust a budget that can't budge

This is fucked.

I also really don't feel like I was advocated for enough or understood and I'm still mad that people keep making assumptions about me.

Why the fuck is it that the shittiest people get away with thier bullshit and me who tries so hard to do good because I want to and I'm not a psychopath gets like the shit end of everything

It really does bother me that people don't take the time to know me.

There was no reset. I'm still getting treated like shit.

There's not going to be a place to move.

I am probably going to lose my temper and get evicted though because I'm so fucking sick of my goddamn rude neighbors.

I can't calm down.

I have been trying to relax and have fun and do things but I can't fucking go outside without a serious panic attack now. WHYYYYY

I'm so angry. You have NO IDEA what the chronic pain I deal with feels like. People fucking judge me because I don't use a mobility device they can't see the pain issue.

They don't fucking care.

I don't even think my partner gives a shit about me.

I'm so sick of people.

I'm fucking sick of crying and asking for help.

I'm so sick of being sick.

I'm so tired of people saying they care and not showing up.

Fuck them.

I understand them. I really do. And I help the best I can.

But people don't even want to be around me and I'm not doing anything wrong.

I didn't mind that you picked my dad to go back first but I don't like the fact that he decided he was going to keep what he told you a secret from me that's not cool when it has to do with my fucking treatment

So now I'm just sitting around trying to figure out what the hell my father told you because he's done this shit before while I was in the ER and I got treated like shit because he went and took the Doctor out in the hallway and told them a bunch of shit that was not true and he's done that multiple times with other therapists privately so I would not like him to see you separately from me ever again in Session please.

I thought it would be okay and I fucked up I should have just chosen both of us to go back at the same time and now I don't know what's going on and he's being weird and secretive

And his presence in that room was completely fake and I was so fucking pissed off because you didn't notice that as far as I was aware

And I'm not mad at you I'm just mad at the fact that he pulled bullshit on you and I just sat there quietly and tried to observe the best I could and then you made the assumption that I checked out and I just had a thought in my head that needed to come out or I was going to end up interrupting and making it worse and

Then after that is probably where I checked out because I was so pissed off about the assumption and it felt like I was having things that I already understand explained to me and it felt like I was running out of time to discuss things that I did need to talk to him about that were important to me in a safe space and then you told me to go talk to him outside and that Did not go well

He yelled at me in the parking lot

Completely took his little bullshit mask off and treated me like shit and he'll deny it next time

Yes I would love to be financially away from everybody and making my own money and able to work but right now I definitely fucking cannot

I don't even know how to do under the table sit without feeling horribly guilty or fucking it up and be my SSI taken away

How am I supposed to play for a fucking phone plan if I can't even pay for Normal healthy Groceries and I couldn't even get all of my Normal healthy Groceries today and I Try to budget so hard and I'm so Bad at math and I've NeVER had a diagnosis of math dyslexia but I can't pass AGED because of that so I can't fucking Go get a degree and anything that might make me be able to make some damn good Money

And then everybody is like well why don't you sell your art but I can't fucking sell my art if I'm not fucking interested in doing it because I'm too stressed out and I have no muse

They just think I can turn things out like a magician or some shit

I don't know what I want to do or what I can do

I think it's pretty fucking unreasonable to expect me to be financially independent so quickly when I have about a million other things I need to work on that doesn't have to do with my parents

Then yes they are big fat triggers and not in the pop culture sense in the clinical sense

I have tons of clinical PTSD triggers and some of them I don't even know what they are but cause I will just be sitting around and all of the sudden I will be having APTSD episode and it sucks

And then I have autistic meltdowns which also suck

And then I have anxiety and panic attacks going on

And then my fucking OCD is driving me insane and I keep repeating myself to the point where I can't remember what's going on presently and I just I'm stuck in this loop of trauma in my brain

And my ADHD is pretty much making all of this worse and I don't know what to do about that

My executive dysfunction is completely out of control. I can do basic things and sometimes force myself to leave the house but I have to have someone with me or on the phone with me to go places and I don't like that I don't like that I'm getting overwhelmed over the dumbest shit

My distress tolerance is broken right now

Also I really need to get laid and I don't know what to do about that and I'm not a one night stand person and my life feels like it's in fucking shambles and I feel like you know maybe some intimacy in an orgasm might fucking fix some of it but I can't even socialize normally enough to get someone to interested in me and I don't even know what I'm doing

Every fucking relationship I've ever had has been some awful fucking man who has used me and treated like shit and cheated on me and almost put me risk for diseases and shit like that

And then the other man that had been intimate with me it was not consensual it was fucking rape it was fucking assault and I can't do anything about that either because I can't prove any of it

And everybody I'm interested in fucking wants a kid and I can't give them kids

And it really sucks to see every person that you've had a crush on or have been in love with meet the love of their life and have kids and have a big happy little family and post all their shit online meanwhile I'm over hereFucking failing at everything

And I'm so tired of people asking me how I'm doing how am I doing I'm rotting in my bed half the time. And the other half of the time I'm just trying to keep it together.

I used to not be like this I don't know what triggered me to be like this I don't know what it was I just wanted to stop.

I mean my whole life has just been nothing but like passive neglectful parenting but also the helicopter parent parenting and that fucked me up and then you know getting molested and being part of pedophilia shit when I was 2 years old really didn't help anything about my development and then my parents just didn't fucking know what they were doing at all and really screwed me up and they didn't care that they screwed me up and oh why is our child doing these major red flags let's just stick her in therapy and tell everybody that she just has an attitude problem and she's a difficult child that'll fix her let's just stick her in therapy and put her on medicine at 12 years old and put her on All these meds till she finally loses her shit because one of them is causing her to lose her shit and then let's send her to a psychfacility that ruins her brain with medications that she was not supposed to get and then let's not help her Sue the psychfacility that really fucked up and broke so many hippa laws.

I don't know what to do anymore

I don't know how to get people to understand me in any way

I feel like I got dropped in another country where no one speaks my language

Everybody is like oh you should join the butt club oh you should just go socialize with people and I don't know how and I don't know how to act and everybody seems to not want to be around me and it's embarrassing

I mean it's not like I didn't hear the people at the metal show talk about how fucking weird I was within earshot and I just ignored it and went on with talking to people that were nice and then I came home and then I cried

Because I'm almost fucking 40 years old I'm almost there and people are still bullies I'm still getting bullied

I don't know the sweet spot that I'm supposed to be in I don't know what the fuck I'm supposed to do I don't know how to be assertive because my assertive sounds like me being a bitch and then me being nice sounds fake to people and then me being mean is like totally too scary for people and I don't know what to do I don't even know how to dress myself in cute outfits that actually look good but I can do that for other people

I can't get my shit done but I can help other people get their shit done I don't know why my brain needs some sort of loophole but it does

And when I was on medicine for ATHD it wasn't exactly the best time but I was able to function way better than this

I miss being a teenager where I didn't care about how stressful going to a store was or what sort of dumb shit I was getting into like how do I kill the part of my brain that grew up and made me scared of everything

I should not be this stressed out and this worried about my life when I have a heart condition as far as I'm aware that could kill me at any point in time just because it didn't beat correctly

I don't understand why I can't be beautiful and free like my other friends and do sex work or take pretty pictures and not worry about what people think

I wish I could just start over if I can't go Zack and I don't know how to move forward anymore I just feel stuck in this present moment that this doesn't go anywhere

And I can try religious practice but that's not even fulfilling to me anymore right now

And I thought about fostering a dog but then I remembered that I'm in a lot of pain and I was disassociating from that and there's no way that I'll be able to walk by the end of the week if I go and bring a dog home to socialize it and distract myself from everything

I've been really upset because I would love to go to New Orleans to all these events that all my friends go to and be a part of a friend group who fucking cares about me and I can't

I can't see very well to drive at night and I miss out on so much stuff and I cannot afford to Uber there

And I'm sure that Justin would just love for me to come running back because he would take me places and he would take care of me and he would take control but I don't want another fucking man controlling me

And the way I speak is not to mean that I'm trying to be controlling I don't think like that

And I wish people would ask me how I'm feeling and how I'm doing and quit making assumptions about it

I'm not talking about strangers I'm talking about people who know better

And no one owes me anything no 1 has to do anything but it would be really nice if my family would actually learn about what I'm going through

Instead of giving them excuses to tell me to fuck off even more

I feel so isolated and alone and I didn't do it to myself

And I don't have any motivation to do anything and I'm not even de press that's the kicker I don't feel depressed I'm just angry and sad

I miss my old psychiatrist

I miss my dead friends

I miss my grandparents

I miss the moment to my life where I felt free

I miss being loved

And why is it that my sister gets treated so much better than me but also everybody neglects her and when I try to help her she acts like a bitch and I basically raised her ass because my parents didn't teach her a lot I had to and they get mad at me about this but it's their own fucking fault they didn't have any place adopting another child when I was 15 and I needed them most

I fucking lied to the social worker who told me it was all on me whether or not they got a baby

Because they went and took all of the hoarding mess out of the house and put it in a storage unit or something like that and hit it from the social worker

And then they put it all back in the house and they let the dogs piss and shit all over the carpet and I had my cat who never did any of that and then we got more cats and nobody took care of the litter boxes except for me and my dad sometimes

And then as I got older after my mom and sister moved out everything got worse because there's still stuff from my mom after they got divorced in the house and my dad is just letting my sister have it and I can't even get to my stuff and the stuff that my sister has gotten to that's mine she has stolen and I haven't been able to bring anything into this apartment from that house because it smells like pure cat piss ammonia because my dad never got the carpet or the house treated when he could have when he could have afforded it he sat around and acted like a depressed fucking asshole and refused to get help and abuse everybody around him And he has been abusiveIt's awful to me and my mother and even my sister now since I was a child since before I was even born he has been abusive

But that's what happens when your parents don't even date for an entire year and then decide to get married

I wish I wasn't fucking born

I cannot wait to get old and pass away of whatever the fuck

I'm tired of this shit and that above is intrusive thoughts don't you dare put me in a grippy sock land it's basically diet prison and I have severe trauma from it.

I know that people say they care but I don't actually know if they care

Because people will say well if I didn't care then I wouldn't do this they say that I've heard it a million times and then they turned around and stabbed me in the back

I don't know how to fit in with other people and I'm tired of trying I've tried my entire life and I've been rejected so much

Like people don't understand that my entire life has basically been punishment that's all I can remember is just bad things happening

I don't really remember anything good for very long

My brain is so much in flare up that I can't even remember covers scissors I've had with people I really love

But I don't even think that people I really love even care about me anymore

I feel like everyone is just sick of me

Don't feel like I ever got a chance

You don't feel like I got to live my life ever and I don't feel like I'm living it now

My heart feels fucking broken all the time

It feels like a gaping wound

I wish I could just go to like the fucking Mayo clinic and get all of my health stuff figured the fuck out. I don't want to see any more doctors I'm so tired of seeing doctors. I'm so tired of medical shit. I haven't even gotten to sit and read and really actually enjoyed my special medical interest. And having a special interest is kind of like a thing for me and I don't have any interest right now

I have lots of ideas of things I could possibly do or just things to do but I can't execute any of them I can't even get the dishes clean I can't get my room organized for longer than a month or even a week

I can't get this place cleaned up and organized enough to have people over to have a social life of any form

I just want to leave I want to just get in my car fill it with gas and drive in whatever direction and then when the car runs out of gas or explodes or I run out of money I don't know that's what I've been feeling like doing for a long time just running the fuck away from everything

But I can't because it's hell just trying to leave my apartment

I've been wanting to play it's a garden all fucking Spring and summer and I can't even afford to Go get Plants or seeds I can't Work It in my budget to do a garden other than the stupid onions and the aloe plant that I have growing and it's upsetting because like I would love to have something hobby wise to do but I can't Find anything I enjoy I have a million activities that I have bought Myself and I have 0 interest in doing any of them I have interest in doing things I Don't own but I can't do those things Or I would be trying to

I need to join a gym but I don't want anybody bothering me about my weight or talking to me about it but I can't fit in my budget

And no my budget is notebook or a ledger or anything like that it's just I stare at my bank account and I think about how much this thing costs and if it's necessary for me to live or if I can live without it so I can have enough money for the rest of the month and have some reserve emergency money in case one of my therapy cats gets sick

It's speaking of cats my fucking father and sister neglected the cat that I had to take care of that was fucking miserable the entire time that my dad basically forced her to be alive for a few more months on steroids that we're eventually going to kill her and then I finally convinced him it was time to let her go because she's like 19 and miserable and she was not happy and I spoiled her and gave her as much love and attention as I could and I neglected my social life and everything And then I had to use an ice her at the vet I had to be there I had to have Travis and my mom show up because my dad even thoughHe could have driven down the street and faced what he didThe fucking neglect he put that cat through and the work I had to do to just get her Fur clean. They had to cut her nails out of her foot pads. I could seriously stringle him and my sister for promising to take care of her when I notice signs of neglect and then they fucking didn't

And then they both have the audacity to get mad at me for taking over

And there's another cat that I very much need to go rescue and either rehome or keep with me because he's terrified and he pees and poops everywhere because no one gives him the kind of litter and litter box he needs and he probably has a medical condition of some form or a urinary tract infaction and he needs help and it makes me mad because he should be very healthy and happy and getting love And I am so close to calling animal control on my own family

And my mom my mom keeps a big giant dog in a cage that's probably way too fucking small for him all day until she can get at home to let him out to pee which is cruel

That dog was actually supposed to be mine but she took him and she gave him to alcoholic man and now she says that he's hers and the dog has bitten several people and she's just not getting it trained at all and I hate the way that they treat animals like accessories and alarm systems

I mean I fucking volunteer for the animal shelter and foster because I don't want animals to go to awful ass people

Not only did I experience hoarding when I grew up I experienced animal hoarding

You know what interest that I have that I want to do that it's driving me insane

I want to ride horses again and I can't

I way too much and I can't lose the fucking weight because my metabolism is fucking broken right now probably because of stress and the hypothyroidism that my interchronologist will not treat me for because he's a dumb fuck and I'm angry as hell

I understand that people do a lot of things they don't want to do to earn money and that's been mentioned to me before that people think I just don't wantna work or something and it's like no I do want to work I would probably be better at a lot of people's jobs than they are but currently I'm not in the correct state of mind or physical state to do any of this and it drives me nuts because my brain is going a million fucking miles an hour and I'm not manic This is just how it is

Didn't even go get a fucking tattoo like other people do when they are just trying to deal with stress

I don't even feel like I fit in with anybody or anywhere

I mean that's been my entire life

I don't even know who I would be or if I could even build a character and then act like that like everybody else seems to do

Because people who are neurotypical all look and act like they're sticking to this unspoken script and I feel like an outsider observing them being like WTF WHY DID THAT TAKE 8 STEPS IT COULD HAVE BEEN 2. Or WHY DO YALL JUST ASSUME SHIT AND HAVE CONVERSATIONS THAT MAKE NO SENSE like Why do people ask how other people are doing if they don't want to really know why is it that we have to just go oh just living the dream I'm fine why can't I just tell people what's actually going on why is this a thing I don't understand

I'm also terrified that people are trying to make me somebody I'm not that I probably could never be like

It feels like accounts of people who have gone through gay conversion therapy and shit

Like you can't make a neurodiverget person neurotypical it doesn't work that way and I get so tired of people trying to force neurotypical ideas Unto people who don't think that way

I don't know how to explain this to people anymore I just feel like I'm repeating myself over and over and over and over again and I might as well talk to a fucking brick wall because that might be more intelligent than people just fucking ignoring what I'm saying

I would love to be able to go outside right now in the dark and go on a walk by myself unarmed without having to worry but no I can't do that because shit is dangerous and I'm too scared to leave my apartment half the time

I'm exhausted I'm absolutely exhausted and so fucking mad

And I'm tired of being mad I'm tired of being resilient I'm tired of being everything that I'm not and not knowing who I am

I'm tired of trying to fit in and I don't feel like I fit in anywhere I don't even feel like I'm the logger I feel like it was a mistake that I was born

I want to talk to my schizophrenic uncle so bad and nobody understands everybody thinks that I'm going to ruin his progress or whatever and to leave him alone but he doesn't think of me that way he doesn't think that I'm a bad person that's out to get him or anything like that I've been the only person in his life and he's been the only person in my life that actually understands what I go through And I understand all the shit he went through if he's even still identifying as male because my dad gave me some sort of hint that he was in Transition but I don't know that for sure because no one will talk to me about it and I'm mad as hell and if I knew where he lived I would call him and I would drive there and visit him for a weekend if I could afford it

You know I get tired of this being there for myself all the time

I have been alone a lot of my life I have been isolated and abused and alone constantly and the only piece I get is from now until like 5 AM in the morning I get quiet and peace if there's not some crazy ass shit happening outside of my apartment in the middle of the night

When I set next to my dad on the sofa I could feel his energy I could tell that he wanted to jump across that sofa and hurt me and I could feel it I know that his body language might not have said that but he knows how to do body language and all this other stuff because he doesn't want to get caught and get in trouble

Like you have no idea how manipulative both of my parents are and they say they love me and they care about me but why did they do everything they did to me then and why do they continue to treat me like shit and why do I still love them and feel like I have to fucking make them happy and help them and do all these things that everybody else does for their parents but their parents aren't psychos

And I don't care if my language sounds combative or defensive right now I don't give a single shit

Maybe people should have thought before they fucking spoke

Maybe people shouldn't have molested me or raped me or held a gun to my head or hurt me or made me strip to check me for hickeys and then denied doing it and then admitted to doing it and then denied it again and then admitted and then denied and then said that they didn't remember it all maybe it was super inappropriate for my father to sleep in the bed with me growing up and I don't know if he ever did anything to me or not because I don't really remember much but him and my mother fighting all the time

It was super fucking inappropriate for my mother's father to fucking molest me

Was super fucking inappropriate for everybody to just tell me to get over it because he was drunk

It was super fucking fucked up that I had to be at his funeral

If he had a grave in the ground I would go and piss on it Unfortunately he's in a mausoleum and I can't do anything about that

I can't do anything about the people that raped and attacked me when I was a teenager

I can't do anything about the men that walk past and grope me

I can't do anything about fuck all

Because nobody believes women not until it happens to them do they believe you or even worse they don't believe you and it happens to them and your story is still not important

I had teachers tell me that I was going to go nowhere in life and completely fail at everything

Just because they got annoyed with me Because I didn't understand stuff

Not even just one teacher I had another 1 that literally had me screaming crying shaking under a fucking water fountain when I was in elementary school because she just wouldn't leave me alone because I went to the library during lunch too much and she wanted me to go outside and get some sun and I was not supposed to be in the Sun because of medication I was on and I flipped out at her and I cursed her out and I flashed out and all I remember is My home room teacher coming out and telling the other teacher to back off and leave me alone and even she had to sit with me for a while and I wasn't very nice to her in reactionAnd she's dead now and I don't even remember what her name was but she was the only teacher in school the meeting was that everybody thought was awful to understand that I was having problems at home and she could do anything about it

Every close friend I have ever had has left me behind for other people or died

My father hit me in the face and broke my fucking nose in high school that's why my nose is crooked and I had blood shooting out of it right and my mom didn't call the cops because she didn't see it happened and I got told that everybody would lose their jobs and we would lose the house if I called the police

And I went to school with 2 black eyes because that's what happens when your nose gets hit 13 times your eyes get blocked as well

And I told my teachers you were mandated reporters and I told my friends and I begged for help and no one did anything

No one has ever done anything no 1 has taken care of the problem I've tried I've tried so hard to make everybody stop hurting me

just keep hurting me they just keep hurting me in every way that they can

It's not fair and I know life isn't fair but shouldn't it be just a tidy bit fair it seems to be fair for people that have the money for it to be fair it seems to be fair for people who have well-adjusted families it seems to be fair for people who don't have auto immune disorders

And you know it's probably because of abuse and stress I had as a child that I even developed an auto immune disorder it might never have been triggered but we don't know I can't prove that

And I don't understand why my parents think I'm trying to control them what do I have to gain what do I have to gain from trying to just control them to the point that they act paranoid like I'm gonna ruin their lives or something

I don't understand that I don't understand why they even think that I think that way

My parents fucking think that I have like this evil mindset when they're mad at me they're just like you think this and you think that and you this and you that just gasliding the fuck out of me

And they just act like overgrown children and they act like they have different personalities themselves

And I hate this I fucking hate it

Why was there no Justice for my father hurting me and I got a legitimate injury from that

Why was there no Justice for my sister's bullshit and hurt attacking me and starting the whole thing to where he got up and hurt me

He could think he said he could think and he was fine and then he used the excuse that he was fucked up on meds after he did it and then he apologized to me on text but then several minutes later called my mother and told her that I was a psycho and all this other bullshit crap

They fucking talk out of both sides of their mouths and they talk about me behind my back and they trash me and I know that because my sister has listened to it and I have also caught my sister trash talking me and I don't understand I'm not a bad person I don't do horrible shit to people

I fucking could

Nobody understands that I could ruin people's lives I know everybody's secrets because they all tell me their secret bullshit

Do you know how much powerful information I have about almost everyone I know and even acquaintances and even random people who run the state people who are prominent lawyers people who are billionaires people who live in other countries who are important I know lots of things about all these people because they confided in me about really fucked app shit they did and I'm really good generally at keeping secrets and I could fuck everybody's world up and I choose not to

But I'm getting very tired of being nice

But being mean really isn't fulfilling to me

And everybody is like you should be meaner you should be more assertive you should be a bitch and I'm like no you know I would rather not

I mean I've tried to build my own character to understand myself and explain myself to myself which is such a mind fuck because how am I talking to myself when I'm my brain

I mean why does any of this matter the universe isn't even locally real and I understand what that means and that's pretty wild and I don't think anybody else thinks about shit like that and understands the gravity of everything

And I don't care how insane my journal writing looks I just I don't give a fuck you're getting unfiltered brain thoughts because I've got thousands of them just buzzing around in my head and it doesn't shut up until I can have medicine for my ADHD and then I get complete silence or if I smoke enough weed my brain shuts up and I just have stoner thoughts

I'll give you a stoner thought I had the other day

For instance why in the world canfellen's not own guns but a felon could become president and have nuclear launch codes is it that like you know the biggest gun of all

What the fuck is wrong with this world

Sometimes I feel like I was just a soul that was happy on the other side and got shot into a body and shot down the Earth and born and I don't feel like I belong here at all

I mean it would be great if a medicine would solve all of my problems but I've been on everything we've ruled out every fucking diagnosis except for a associative disorder of some form or a personality disorder not specified because I'm not BPD

BPD is what I was diagnosed at before they figured out I had complex PTSD and BPD is a bullshit umbrella diagnosis that they give women who are hystericalProbably just have complex PTSD and poor emotional regulation and they just have it learned to fix that but they're being treated for something they don't even have so of course the therapies not going to work and they're not going to get better

EMDR helped me but I was always furious after the sessions

I was mad because of the injustice

And I don't like therapists that are super hard on me because I'm really hard on myself and I need someone to be gentle and handle me with fucking kid gloves because that's what I respond to I respond to gentle

I don't respond to patronizing gentle bullshit or being chided or I don't even know how to describe it it's a certain way that every single therapist acts when they think they have you pinned for whatever but it's wrong and you know that they're wrong but they don't think they're wrongI don't know how to explain it at all

I'm really pissed off that I went non verbal

I really hate getting that way

But everything gets so fucking overwhelming

And I just shut down completely

And I can't remember things that people tell me and I can't even make a grocery list today I made a fucking grocery list and I left it at home because I auto piloted myself to the Asian supermarket to get groceries there why I don't fucking know I just did

I mean I got stuff but it cost almost $200 and it wasn't even that much food

I don't even need that much and everybody thinks that I'm lying about that because I'm a big girl but my metabolism is wrecked I had to be on steroids for a large portion of my life

Steroids fucked with everything but it was the only thing that was going to keep me alive and make me build muscle because I don't think you understand that you're mad at my aside as eats peoples muscles your immune system starts to just Nibble away your muscles till they're almost fucking gone

I could not walk

I had to learn to walk again I had to go to speech therapy I had to go to therapy to be able to use my Hands and move in general

I have been through every sort of physical therapy that exists

I've been into huge scary fucked medical studies that Ted Kennedy ran at NIH or he funded it

That's really weird I'm still bothered by that I'm always going to be bothered by that I want my fucking files from all of that I want to know what the hell they did to me

You know I look at pictures of my brain on disks because I've had so many Mr i's and I notice things and I'm not a radiologist so I cannot diagnose myself but there's a lot of stuff if I look at that and then I look at a normal brain it doesn't look right

Like the middle part of the brain that sort of looks like a butterfly and looks like a big empty space yeah mine is huge and not connected in the middle correctly like I'll have to show you it's weird

And I have asked doctors about this and they're like oh sometimes people just have that or people with schizophrenia have that and I'm like oh great wonderful

I don't want another goddamn diagnosis of something that's gonna be on my chart and have doctors be like oh my God what the fuck but I also do want to know what the hell is going on so at least I am aware

And Doctor Todd used to tell me that I was too smart and that I was too observant and that other people didn't like that and were not gonna respond well to me and we're gonna act threatened and he explained all this to me he explained how my life would be if I continued to just be myself if I didn't figure out a way to just act differently and settle with some guy that I could tolerate in order to just get the hell away from my parents because he knew what was going on with meAnd he knew that I am so handicapped that I would need a fucking safety net of money in case me trying to sell art or whatever it is I wanna do failed

And he asked about me what is death bed

And it hurts because I feel like he cared about me more than my own family ever did

I feel like I'm just a giant fucking burden to everybody

And I hate this time of year because I don't know what happened to me this time of year because the body keeps the score and so does parts of the brain and from this point in time till my birthday I am a wreck every fucking year and I don't want to be but I am it's just every year this happens

Every year I just get more and more and more stressed out than closer I get to Birthday

And then most people forget my birthday or they do something shitty

And I just want to celebrate my birthday and have a nice party and it's important to me and people are like why don't you just have a normal day I don't do anything for my birthday well you know you didn't have to fucking fights to survive

That's why I celebrate my birthday because I am still alive

And there's lots of people out there that have succumbed to the PTSD and not made it out alive and I am still here

I don't want to be here but I'm still fucking here

I hate it here I wish that aliens would come and abduct me and take me far far away

I don't care if it sounds stupid I don't feel like I belong here I don't feel like a person

I just feel like I'm a mirror or a masking and then I don't know What I am or who I am when I'm not doing that I have an extremely poor sense of self and I don't know how to wrap my brain around creating my own ideas of myself and describing myself to other peoples it's a nightmare

I mean I'm still trying to get the diagnosis of BPD removed from our lady of the leg's records

I'm not even changing that that one's funny that typo is funny

I'm sitting here yelling at my phone crying and that was ridiculous

I mean is there such thing as being too smart and aware and logical or whatever is there such a thing is that what is ruining my life and I just over analyzing everything in my worrying too much what the fuck is it that I'm doing that I'm not in control of because it seems like there's something neurologically going on that no one has been able to figure out

And I haven't been able to see the kind of specialist I would need to see to figure that out

I do know that my dad's side of the family has a history of really weird mental issues and not schizophrenic disorder or it's a frontier like my uncle has that one's just out of the ballpark popped out of nowhere because my grandmother and her son of the family didn't have issues like that and neither did my father's side that I'm aware of but it seems to be like there's been a lot of cluster b type disorders

And then on my mom's side there's a lot of cluster b type disorders that nobody will admit to having but it's blatantly obvious

But I had an uncle a great uncle and he had some sort of mental issue and he died early because ofbut and I don't know how or why or what that was about but nobody talks about it

And that's another thing I take issue within the South growing up here being native to hear everybody doesn't want to talk about anything everybody wants to sweep it under the rug and not look at it no one wants to look at what's wrong everybody just wants to Push the weaker people out of the way or the threat out of the way and carry on with their lives like nothing is even going on no one wants to deal with it

And when I was growing up on one side of the family I was to be seen and not heard and that was dad's side of the family and on the other side of the family I was encouraged to do art and to dance and put on a show for everybody

And it was not good for me

And I missed my grandmother's I wish they were still alive I would go live with one of them

Because they understood me they knew they fucking knew that my parents were fucking insane and they tried to talk to my parents and they tried to tell my parents to stop being awful to me and my parents didn't listen because my parents had grudges against their parents so of course they're not gonna listen

My dad before I had my diagnosis where I had my diagnosis and all the people that were adults in my life before I had a diagnosis of the dramatic site as used to tell me that I was just faking it for attention and that I was a liar and being called a liar is one of the biggest triggers I have because I'm not a fucking liar if I want to lie I will but I don't lie like that I have a hard time lying about 99% of things and sometimes my brain makes an exception depending on the predicament and if it's for survival or something

Also on my dad's side of the family there's lots of gay people and it was all covered up my father even experimented in college and everything and I had to hear about that as a child my mom would get angry and just shit talking to me

They should have never gotten married they should have never had me I should exist and I don't mean that in a suicidal way I just I don't belong here

I really just don't feel like I belong here and it's not in a depressed way or I want to die sort of way even though those are interesting thoughts I get sometimes but it's not like anything I experience experience usually

I just feel not human

I feel like I'm in the wrong body all the time like how did I get here why am I in this body

Sometimes I'm like who is this bitch and her family why am I here sometimes I just want to be a little kid and buy toys for myself and stuff and I can't do that cause I can't afford it isn't I get really sad because I have adult money and I should be able to use it for whatever I want and sometimes I remember I have free will and I think about going and just buying an entire birthday cake for myself when it's not even my birthday but I never do that because why it cost you fucking much

There's a lot of typos that say you when they should say other words and I'm not going to fix that I hope that you can understand it because I've done it too many times through Text-to-speech because I can't type as fast as my brain and mouth go

I just I want to go home and I used to repeat that Uber and Uber and Uber when I was young and upset when my parents would be screaming at 1 another I would stick my head between the couch cushions and I would scream for them to stop and I would repeat I want to go home and I would Rock back-and-forth and I would tell them to stop and I would plead with them to stop and they would tell me to fuck off and go to my room and I would sneak out of my room and stand at the hall door and peak and watch them argue because I was terrified that they were going to kill each other

The things that I heard my parents say 21 another growing up is nothing anybody should hear at the age

One thing that my mom used to say as a funny story is that 1 day I was like a little tiny kid and 1 of the first things I said was you old buzzard because my mom was calling my dad a bastard

I mean I don't see how that's funny at all

I don't think it's very funny that some strange man at 1 of their little Christmas parties at 1 of their little friend's houses made me put my mouth on his Dick when I was a tiny child unless that happened somewhere else

I don't think it's too awesome that I was locked in a closet and my mom found a whole bunch of kids wandering around with no adult and me locked into closet gasping for air under a pile of pillows

And those were the same people that did things to me and I can't prove it because she took me to the Doctor to get me checked out and there was no sign of it but I remember it It's something that I can't talk about in detail it's very foggy but I remember things I remember strange men I was 2 years old

And I was secretly hyper sexual growing up as well and it was shamed for it just a point where I was scared to touch myself and then I became hypersexual again when I went to elementary school probably about middle school and it was weird

And then I was not exactly hypersexual in the fact that I would have sex with everybody and any of these instances but in high school was a thing where I would flirt with entirely to many people and full around with people and get myself in situations where bad things happened to me and I guess that's not really my fault that's just the fault of the other people and the adult that was supposed to be watching us

One reason me and Justin didn't work out is because he was the first person that ever went down on me and I was like 15 or 16 years old and the friend's mom who was there encouraged us to go do that she encouraged me to suck another guy's Dick once and sat there and watched

She would take her giant fat tits and lift up her shirt and press her tits against the window when she would like get out of the car right before she would undo child lock and let all of us out of the car because she thought it was funny she was the most inappropriate adult she would make us bring 20 bucks for pizza and then buy us whatever alcohol we wanted if we gave her the money so she could buy herself a carton of cigarettes And then get us like one pizza to share it was fucked up and I should have been out there hanging out with Travis and all the other people on Carlotta street instead of hanging out In a grown adult's home with people who I thought were my friends who were just taking advantage of me

And the thing is my parents thought it was safer for me to be with the person that had their mom

Instead of hanging out with a bunch of people my own age who were just moving out and living on their own and going to college while I was maybe a little bit younger but should have already graduated

I mean I couldn't get homework done because I was always in fight or flight or freeze at home because my parents would be arguing and then I wouldn't be able to sleep and I can't tell you how many medicines and drugs that doctors tried on me to fix me because my parents were unhappy with me I mean it's possible it's completely fucked my brain up and it's not repairable I don't know I'll probably never know I don't know how much can be fixed in how much I am capable of and how much I'm just not capable of

I've never had official testing done for my autism other than doctors going yep you seem to be autistic and it makes sense to me and I think self-diagnosis is pretty fucking valid but I don't know where I am on the scale or range or spectrum I don't I don't know all I know is I have an easy time doing a lot of things in a very very hard time doing other things that should be easy

And I have an easy time helping other people but I have a very hard time helping myself or getting help for myself but I have 0 issues trying to help other people if I have the bandwidth

I mean I don't even feel like I was born to be a daughter and be treated like a daughter I just feel like I was born to be an accessory and then they got bored with me and I didn't grow up and turn into what they wanted and now everybody resents me and tells me what's wrong with me and I have to fix myself but they can't be held accountable for their bullshit and they don't do anything about it they say that they're gonna hold themselves accountable but then they never do anything about it they apologize but they never show me any changes

So why should I be nice to them why should I care why should I even try

Because they pay for my apartment in my phone and my internet and various things

I don't feel like I owe them anything

They've done enough to me

They've isolated me enough I mean I don't know what else they want that they want to lock me up in some long-term facility so they don't have to talk to me or deal with me I mean what the fuck

What do they want to put me in a little studio apartment and then just disown me

It's just fucking I don't know how to explain this

I'm not a spoiled rotten brat I have never asked for all the tremendous amounts of things that my parents have decided to just give me I don't like surprises it actually throws me off big time and I have giant freaks freakouts

Like absolute meltdowns and people always thought that I was having like a spoiled brat tantrum but no it's just I don't do well with changes I don't like changes at all I have things that I'm used to and ways that I do things and I don't like it when people try to control me And the thing is they do they try to control everything they dread a micro manage me and that happened to me my entire life and I don't want anybody coming near me anymore

And they have successfully fucked me up all of this has fucked me up every bad fucked up thing that has happened to me has ruined me

I don't know if I am able to be helped anymore

I don't feel like I belong here.

I want to go home.

I just want home.

I keep thinking I've found home and it's a lie

[baby-yongbok]

Poetry

Chapter Seven - Moonlight

Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Fluff, the type that makes you say 'aw' out loud

Summary: A lot can change under the moonlight

Word Count: 4,488

A/N: I wrote this chapter much slower and I think that it turned out so much better I think that I'm going to start posting this story every other Thursday that way I can really focus on making it poetic like I want. + If you haven't already, I highly recommend reading the previous parts before this one so that you get the ✨full experience✨. See you next time at 6 💕

Part 6

✧Poetry Series Masterlist✧

✧Main Masterlist✧

Y/N's POV

My mom used to make me sit in on the lectures that she gave to my brother everytime that he'd get into trouble. I never really understood why. I was a calm and quiet kid, I didn't have a ton of friends but I knew a couple of people. I mostly kept to myself but my brother was the opposite, he liked being loud and rowdy, he was a 'cool kid'. The exact opposite of me. I used to hate sitting in on his discipline sessions but tonight I'm grateful for them. Maybe this is why my mom wanted me to be there, so that I could have a better understanding of why people do what they do. So that I could be exposed to the emotions that I felt so seldomly. 

"Have you ever been here before?" I watch as the soft autumn breeze pushes Hyunjin’s hair back. His almond eyes scanned the space around us carefully. 

"I don't think so." Clicking my tongue in disapproval I skip over towards the fence overlooking the water. This pier has been one of my favorite places to go since I was in my Junior year of University. The water is so calming, the air is so fresh and pure, and at night it's the perfect place to decompress. 

"This is my favorite place to go when I'm having a rough time." Hyunjin makes his way over to me. Standing beside me with his hands in his pockets. His gaze is cast down at the glowing water of the river. 

"You didn't have to share your special place with me." He whispers and I furrow my brows in confusion. "After what just happened I feel like I might ruin this for you."

My heart softens at his vulnerability, I can't help but to let my eyes wander up to the side of his face. His eyes are tracing over the shining reflection of the moon on the waves but he seems tense. He seems worried. I take a step over to him so that our elbows are touching. I train my gaze on the moon's reflection and take a deep breath. My mom's advice echoes through my head. 

'People just want to be understood. Sometimes anger is an attempt at understanding. Sometimes we're not even really angry, we're just afraid.'

Carefully, I grabbed my camera, adjusting it around my neck before taking a step back and pointing it towards Hyunjin. I snapped two photos before he looked my way and then took another one. 

"What are you doing?" He asked with confused eyes, holding his hand up to cover his face. 

"I'm documenting the moment that I brought you here." I lower the camera and step back over to him, smiling wide. "You could never ruin this place for me. If anything it actually feels more special to me now."

"Really?" The surprise in his tone is amusing, I can't help but to chuckle a bit at the sound of it. 

"Really." A ghost of a smile pulls at the corner of his lips as he steps closer to me. The faint sound of children laughing and music coming from further up the pier surrounded us as we stood, soaking in each other's energy. "Are you ready?"

"Hm? Ready for what?" Our eyes meet and I take in the blush that the cold autumn air has caused to spread over his cheeks.

"For our second date." I smile up at him, backing away slowly. I stretch my arms out to my sides to feel the breeze rush through my fingers as it picks up. Hyunjin watches me, brows furrowed and a smile adorning his tinted lips. 

"I thought I was supposed to be the one asking you."

"Yeah, but you're taking forever." I roll my eyes playfully and Hyunjin smiles wider. He makes his way over to me, jogging towards me with his arms out to playfully attack me. I back up faster, breaking into a light sprint. The sound of his footsteps padding behind me and my laughter mixing with the distant sound of the happy children filled the space around us. 

"You're not faster than me." Hyunjin wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me up and spinning me with an ebullient laugh falling from his lips. 

"I'm taking forever, huh?" He tickles my sides lightly and I scream and kick against him, trying my best to escape his attack. 

"You are!" I laugh louder as I struggle to speak. 

"Maybe I was just waiting for the perfect moment." He lowers me, keeping his arms around my waist and his chin on my shoulder. 

"Well, I beat you to it." I turn my head slightly, glancing over at his smiling face. "You can start planning the next one."

"I guess I better not take too long." He lets me go, taking a step back and adjusting his sweater. "You're in charge."

"I like the sound of that." He raises an eyebrow at me as I take his hand and start leading him further down the pier and over to the small boardwalk. 

"You like being in charge?" I look back at him, confused by the smirk on his lips. 

"Sometimes." His smile spreads as he shakes his head slowly. 

"I didn't think you were the type to like that." My confusion grows deeper as I stop and turn to him fully. "You seem like more of a bottom." 

I gape at his amused expression. His tongue in his cheek and a wide teasing smile on his face. 

"I- wha-" Both of his eyebrows raise this time and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head slightly. 

"Sounds like a bottom to me."

"Hyunjin!" His eyes morph into crescents as he laughs at me. I find myself smiling slightly as my mouth is still moderately agape. "You're horrible. I never thought that you were so dirty minded." 

I start walking again, the sound of Hyunjin’s footsteps behind me is being drowned out by his wild laughter and now it's my turn to tongue my cheek. 

"You said that you like to be in charge, not me." He takes a couple of wide strides towards me before he's back at my side, smiling down at me and taking my hand again. "And I'm not dirty minded."

I roll my eyes and he squeezes my hand. "Whatever." 

"Come on, don't be mad at me." He pushes his shoulder into mine as he takes in my reaction. 

"I'm not mad." I roll my eyes and turn my head as I try to hide the growing smile on my face. Why does he have to look at me like that? And why did he have to start a suggestive conversation? I'm not a virgin and I'm not shy about sex…unless you're someone who I'm interested in. If that's the case then I'm the actual human representation of bashful. 

"Also…" I take a deep breath, deciding to step outside of my comfort zone. It is Hyunjin after all. "I'm definitely a switch, not a bottom."

I look back over at the tall man next to me, making sure to maintain eye contact as he processes my confession. The smile on his face fades and mine grows once it hits him. 

"Is that right?" His eyebrows are raised again and he looks more than intrigued now. At least I know that he's interested in me, I'll take this as a confirmation. 

"Enough about that, come on." I pick up the pace, walking a bit faster and dragging him along with me.

 My plan from this point on is to ignore anything and everything that he says about my confession. I refuse to go into further detail for the sake of my sanity. Hyunjin moves fast as he tries to match my pace. Suddenly, he breaks our contact and his long arms are sneaking around my waist again, pulling me into him gently. 

"I think I like when you're in charge." My cheeks heat up at his words, my entire body stills against him and I think I might be holding my breath… I'm definitely holding my breath. 

"So, where is it that we're going?" He lets go of me, swiftly removing his arms from around my waist and draping one over my shoulder.

"I hate you." I scoff playfully, blinking up at him dramatically before falling into a steady stride again. "I don't wanna hear another dirty thing come out of your mouth all night."

He hums at my warning, shaking his head firmly. "Yes ma'am." 

I glare at him through my lashes and he smiles down at me with that mischievous look in his eyes. He can be such a nuisance sometimes and the worst part is that I know that he's enjoying it. 

"I'm just being polite." He raises his free hand in defense as I continue to glare at him.  We start to approach a very busy food truck and I guide Hyunjin over to the line. 

"Yeah yeah yeah." We take our place in line and Hyunjin starts looking at the menu. "It's Mistress by the way." 

“So, why did you act like you didn’t know me in front of the kids?” After introducing Hyunjin to the best Korean bbq food truck in the city we started wandering aimlessly down the boardwalk.

“Because they’re extremely nosey and would never shut up about it. Especially James, he takes a certain pleasure in getting on my last nerve.”

We decided to take a stroll down the boardwalk, it's fairly busy despite the time. Children are running and laughing and people are getting their pictures taken and there are even some artists out tonight creating new pieces to sell. A particular landscape artist seems to catch Hyunjins attention, he's stopped to watch him as he paints. 

"He's just being a little brother. You seem very close to them so it would be odd if they didn't get on your nerves." A smirk pulls at his lips, a sweet and knowing one. 

"Which is even more of a reason not to tell them yet, but I'm sure they'll figure it out soon." I step closer to get a better look at the painting but I'm caught off guard when Hyunjin suddenly turns his attention towards me as his sentence ends. "I don't think that I can treat you like you're not the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."

I stare back at him, utterly speechless and taken aback. His eyes search mine for a second, a smile present in his honey irises. His hand gently finds the small of my back and he breaks our eye contact, looking forward and guiding me back into a steady stroll down the strip. 

I can't seem to stop my thoughts from going absolutely wild. Everything that's happened over the past two months with Hyunjin is running loose in my mind and making me feel something, something so intense yet soft. What is this? 

"Want to sit by the water?" Hyunjin's question snaps me out of my thoughts just long enough for me to answer. We make our way over to the small dock and sit at the edge, our feet dangling off the edge as we gaze into the sparkling River. 

I try my best to put my thoughts together. I need to make it make sense. What is it that's bothering me? I think about Hyunjin constantly, every morning I wake up to his text and every night we're on the phone until I fall asleep. We have so much in common and he makes me feel safe. I can be myself around him and all I want is to be in his company, talk to him, grow with him. 

"Are you okay?"

"What are we?"

Our questions come out at the same time. Our words clash with one another's. He blinks down at me and I mimic the action towards him. His brows pull together in a slight confusion and mine raise in curiosity. The silence between us creates a small bubble that muffles the surrounding sounds. The only thing that I want to hear is his answer to the question burning through my brain.

"I- I suppose I can see why you'd ask that." He chuckles lightly as he scratches the back of his neck and shifts his gaze down towards the water. "I'm sorry that you even had to ask."

"I'll feel better if you answer it." My gaze stays trained on him, wanting and waiting. 

"Right, um, this is not how I wanted this to go." His tongue dips out of his mouth and skates across his bottom lip before he pulls it between his teeth. He stares out into the water, clearly trying to put together his next sentence. I'm willing to wait all night for an answer. 

"I've never met anyone like you, Y/n. You're everything that I've ever wanted to experience in a person and I honestly can't believe that I know you. From the moment that I first saw you at Adore I thought that you were stunning and then to find out that you're brilliant and kind and… I could honestly go on for hours talking about all that you are." 

He pauses, licking his lips again and taking a deep breath before his eyes meet mine. His gaze is soft and sweet and in this moment I realize what it is that I've been feeling. It's desire. The desire to be his, to be with him. 

"With all that you are I just feel like you can do so much better than me." My heart sinks as I process his words. I immediately shift my gaze to the reflection of the moon. Maybe if I wish upon it we can rewind and he'd say something different. 

"So, we're just friends?" My words come out in a sad whisper as I swing my feet off of the edge of the dock. Hyunjins long legs mimic mine, swinging more softly. 

"Oh God no." I snap my head in his direction and the smile on his face catches me off guard. "I'm way too in to you to be your friend." 

"But, you just said -"

"I do believe that you deserve better than me… but when I'm with you my world feels brighter. Colors are more vibrant, more beautiful and I can smile easily. Being with you is healing, it's healing me and if I can have the privilege of healing with you by my side I'm going to take it. I'd be a fool not to."

The soft smile on Hyunjin’s face only makes it easier for tears to well up in my eyes. I've never, in all my years of living been told anything as sweet as this, it's almost dizzying. To know that Hyunjin feels exactly how I feel and that my presence in his live has helped him makes me feel like I'm on fire but I don't ever want this fire to go out. 

"With that being said, Y/n would you do me the honor of becoming my girlfriend? I'd be more than lucky to have you be my partner in crime."

A rosy blush creeps up and covers my cheeks as his question rings through my ears. I'm shaking my head yes with a radiant smile before I can even get my answer past my lips. Hyunjin mirrors my smile as he quickly grabs his camera, he aims and clicks a quick photo which only makes me smile even harder with a gleeful chuckle. I launch forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and scooting as close as I can to him. His arms snake around my waist, leaving electric shocks in his wake but it is no longer a foreign feeling to me, it is welcomed. 

"Took you long enough." A deep laugh is squeezed out of me as his hold around my waist tightens. 

"You're just impatient." He laughs, his chin resting on my shoulder. Neither of us move to break the embrace. We sit in each others arms, taking in the warmth and energy that we've created. It almost feels different now, it feels warmer and softer around us. It feels comfortable like when I gaze at the moon or read a book. 

"You do realize that the only reason that we're on a second date is because I brought you here and the only reason that we're together now is because I asked a question that made you ask me out." He pulls away, looking down at me and rolling his eyes with a grin. 

"You did say that you like being in charge." I tongue my cheek and push him playfully, he leans back, nearly losing his balance and falling off of the dock. My eyes widen in panic as I lunge forward to grab him.

"Oh shit." I reach for his hand to save him but the laugh that erupts from his throat stops me. 

"Got ya." A dramatic sigh leaves me as I stand from the dock and start walking away from him. "Aw come on, angel." 

He calls after me and I turn around and flip him off with both hands. He stands from the dock and raises his camera towards me, snapping a picture before I turn and start walking away again. 

"I'll make a scene if you don't turn around." I keep walking, he's probably bluffing. He calls after me again but I ignore him, walking away slowly. 

"Mistress! Where are you?" I whip around as Hyunjin starts yelling as he follows behind me. With wide eyes, I speed walk over to him. "Oh, there you are baby. I thought I lost ya."

"Shut up" I scold him through gritted teeth and he laughs. I grab his hand and drag him behind me as I try to avoid the amused and confused look of the people around us. 

"I warned you." Hyunjin throws his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side. 

"You're a maniac." I smile a bit, I suppose that was kind of funny. I'm not usually loud in public like that so having someone in my life who can shout at the top of their lungs regardless of what anyone thinks is kind of refreshing. 

"Get used to it. This maniac is your boyfriend now." He smiles down at me as I side eye him. "You're stuck with me, angel."

There goes that damn nickname again, why does it always make my heart flutter. 

"Oh, baby, do you want some ice cream? The stand up there isn't busy."

My cheeks burn as the new pet name registers in my brain. How am I going to survive this? I sneak my hand into his knitted sweater pocket and try to get myself to relax. 

"Baby?" Fuck, my heart is going to explode. 

"Uh, yeah let's do it."

"Yeah, sorry I thought I sent the text" With everything that went on earlier I seemed to have forgotten to let Changbin know that I wasn't coming straight home. It was only after I checked my phone and saw the millions of messages and missed calls that I remembered. 

"You scared me, Y/n. I thought something happened to you." Changbin is upset, that's how I know I fucked up. He never gets upset with me. "I almost called the cops, if Serena wasn't here there would be a search party for you." 

"Binnie, I'm really sorry. I'll explain everything when I get home but I just got so caught up. My ringer is on now and I'll text you when I'm on my way home. I should be leaving soon." Changbin sighs on the other line and I can hear Serena trying to calm him down in the background. 

"Please, don't let this happen again, nugget." A smile pulls at my lips as I nod my head, he can't see me of course but I feel so much better now that he's used the nickname that he gave me when we were in university. 

"I won't, I'll text you okay?" Changbin and I say our goodbyes and I exhale in relief. I can't stand when he's mad at me. It's extremely rare that it happens but when it does the tension in the apartment drives me wild. 

I turn around and scan the area, searching for Hyunjin who left to give me privacy. I finally spot him a bit further down the boardwalk, leaning over the railing and trying to get a picture of something. I take this opportunity to capture him with my own camera. Using what he's taught me in today's class I take a couple of shots. When I look back at them on the small camera screen I can't help but smile. He looks so peaceful and beautiful in the moonlight. Once I'm satisfied with my pictures I check the time and start walking towards him. We should really get going if we want to catch the last bus back, I'm not sure what time it comes but I am sure that it's soon. 

"Hey, we should probably head to the bus stop, the last bus is coming soon."

Hyunjin snaps one more photo before standing tall and checking what he just captured on his camera screen. 

"What's the rush? We can take an uber." His eyes stay on his screen causing him to miss the way that my face scrunched up at his suggestion. 

"I would rather not, it'll be so expensive. Why spend that much when we can pay two dollars for the bus?" Hyunjin shifts his gaze to meet mine, smirking softly. 

"Maybe I should show you my bank account. Maybe then you'll understand that money isn't a problem for me." 

"Yeah yeah, Versace man I get." He chuckles at the nickname as he drapes his camera strap back over his shoulder.

"I'm serious, I try not to be flashy and in your face about it but you have nothing to worry about, angel." He takes my hand in his, pulling me towards him. "Let me take care of -" 

He stops speaking suddenly, turning his head as though he was trying to hear something. 

"What is -" He holds his free hand up to silence me, he closes his eyes and stands still, concentrating hard on the surrounding sounds. I try to do the same but I'm not sure what it is that caught his attention. 

Before I can process what's going on he's pulling me behind him. Our fingers are interlaced as he weaves through people and over towards what he heard. The challenge of keeping up with his long legs makes me jog after him as he speed walks over to the source of the sound. As we get further down the boardwalk I start to hear the sounds of a violin get clearer and clearer. Is that what caught his attention?

He stops walking abruptly and I bump into him softly. He stands about six feet from the violinist. He's an elder who I see here often, sometimes he plays his guitar but it seems that he opted to switch it up tonight. 

"Sorry, I just… I haven't heard this piece in so long." He glances down at me, a shy smile on his lips before he turns his attention back to the performer. The violinist looks up and catches his gaze, and the old man's face lights up with a knowing smile before turning his attention back. 

“This is a part of a larger piece by Yo-Yo Ma. The entire piece is called the Carnival of Animals. This particular piece is The Swan.” I watch Hyunjin with a small smile on my lips as he focuses on the notes filling the air. His eyebrows raise every now and then and he’s started swaying lightly. “I used to listen to this…when my mom would fight with one of her boyfriends. When I just couldn’t stand to be surrounded by anger anymore. It always relaxed me.”

My heart swells at his confession. I imagine teenage Hyunjin locking himself in his room and searching for the piece on Youtube. I wonder if he played it out loud or in headphones, did he sway by himself in his room? Did he dance?

Silently, I take Hyunjin’s other hand in mine and turn him towards me. “What are you…” 

His sentence trails off into silence as I lean my head against his chest. I move his hands to my waist and I snake my arms around his neck. We rock gently as the music surrounds us, I can feel Hyunjin relax into me as we move. I know that his eyes are closed, I don’t need to look. His forehead rests on top of my head as we soak in the moment together. The soft autumn breeze carries the music and swirls it around us, all of our worries fade away with it as it leaves. Right now we are whole, right now all that matters is that we have each other. 

Before we know it the piece comes to completion and I open my eyes slowly. Hyunjin takes a deep breath before lifting his head and looking down at me, I meet his gaze and a fond smile stretches across my lips. Before I have a chance to say anything his lips are on mine. My eyes flutter shut once I process the feeling, butterflies fill my stomach and my knees feel weak as our lips move together.  I deepen the kiss, pulling him closer with my arms around his neck and he holds me tight, pulling my chest against his as our kiss intensifies. I melt into him and he into me, it feels like we are one and time stands still. 

With one last smooth and gentle kiss he pulls away just enough to catch my gaze. My eyes flutter open slowly and my heart is beating fast in my chest as we hold each other's gaze. Slowly, I pull away, we both smile as we come back to the real world. Suddenly the sound of applause erupts around us and we both look over our shoulders. There are a couple of people standing around us, they must've watched us dance to the music. I glance over towards the violinist to find that even he is clapping for us with a wide smile on his face. He flashes a thumbs up and I chuckle in response. Hyunjin pulls away from me, grabbing my hand and spinning me quickly. A surprised laugh falls from my lips as Hyunjin pulls me back into him. 

“Thank you, angel” He smiles down at me and I can tell that he means it. My heart lights up like a Christmas tree, bringing him comfort brings me so much joy. 

“Come on, we have a bus to catch.”

← Previous Chapter ♡ Next Chapter →

[lalawrites17]

LETTING IT ALL OUT

My name is Andrea. Kate D. Untalan and I used to struggle with anxiety and attempt self-harm. Anxiety is an emotion characterized by feelings of tension, worried thoughts, and uneasiness that may occur as a reaction to stress. On the other hand, self-harm is when a person hurts themselves on purpose. My experience all started when I was in ninth grade during the third quarter. I failed one of my subjects and got a 75. My Lola and Tita were both surprised that I had such a low grade, and I'm grateful that they understood and tried to console me. I was also hoping for a similar reaction from my parents. But when I called my mom and dad and told them that I had a 75, they were so angry that they started to yell at me and said some hurtful words. After that call, I've been crying nonstop and I felt like I was the stupidest person in the world. After an hour, my Tita spoke to me and said that she called my teacher about my grade, and the teacher said that I had two modules that I didn't pass, which was the reason for having a low mark, and that she would give me a chance to raise my grade. Days passed, and I got my card again, and the subject in which I failed was raised to 80 above. I was happy, and my Tita told the news to my parents. Soon after, my parents called me and apologized for their actions, and I forgave them. But my attitude toward my parents changed a little; I started to be distant from them, and I have also changed. Everyone thinks I'm okay and that I forgot all about it, but it is still present in my mind and heart, and it hurts so bad. I kept smiling to hide my sadness, but it hurt more when I smiled than when I cried. Every day I keep remembering the words that my parents said to me, and it makes me unhappy every time I remember them. I feel like I'm worthless and stupid. I cry every night, asking myself "Why are you stupid" and "Why are you not good enough". I always worry about my academics; even though my grades are high, I still keep worrying. I'm also having difficulty sleeping because my mind is filled with negative thoughts. I endured this emotion every day. Until one day me and my cousin fought, and she told me that I was worthless, stupid, and many other things, and it triggered me. After I was alone in the room, I kept crying because I kept thinking, all that she said was true. My mind went blank, and all I could think about was "I should kill myself" repeatedly. So I locked the door, picked up a thin blanket, and choked myself. While I'm Choking myself, my vision got blurry, I lost some strength, and my attempt was unsuccessful. I just cried in the room and then slept. Ever since that day, my mind has been full of negativity. But I stopped thinking about suicide because I am afraid to commit the biggest sin, and I was also thinking about all the people that I would leave behind.

The anxiety and pain lasted for years, until one day my mom noticed that I cried in my sleep. She knew that there was something wrong with me. At night, when we were lying in bed and about to go to sleep, a tear escaped from my eyes. She saw the tear, so she asked me, "Are you okay? What's the problem?" At that moment, I had reached my limit; my heart and soul couldn't take it anymore. I had kept this pain inside of me for so long that I needed it to let out, and there I was crying like a baby in front of her. That was the turning point of my life, I opened up to my mom and told her everything. Slowly, I started to heal and accept myself. To be honest I am still healing to this day. My anxiety is not as severe as before, but it is still with me. I am now able to cope with these negative thoughts by having a positive mindset and not letting them take over me.

The advice that I can give to those students who are suffering from anxiety, depression, and suicidal thoughts is: don't be afraid to ask for help and to reach out to a person or someone that you trust and tell them what is troubling you and how you are feeling. Remember that you are loved, you are needed, you are appreciated, and you are never alone. Keep that in mind.

-Untalan, Andrea Kate

[mcclinseymediablog]

Blog #3 - Deconstructing Characters Of The Horror Genre

The Overlook Hotel, located in Estes Park Colorado, has a grim reputation. Due to the high cost of keeping the roads clear of snow and ice in the winter, the hotel closes down for five months every year. A caretaker is required to maintain the hotel, forcing them to live in isolation. In the 1950’s, Charles Grady served as a caretaker for the hotel, moving in with his family. Grady went insane and murdered his family before committing suicide. Then in 1980, Jack Torrance replaced Dick Hallorann as the hotel’s caretaker. After five months, Torrance murdered Dick Hallorann, and attempted to murder his family. His son, Danny, and his wife, Wendy, both survived.

Torrance nearly froze to death in the maze outside the hotel. He was successfully rehabilitated and swiftly sent to trial, then prison. Forty-five years later, Jack Torrance is a free man. We have the pleasure of interviewing him today.

Interviewer: It has been forty-two years since the incident at the Overlook Hotel. Do you still have regrets for what you did?

Torrance: Of course, but people just don’t understand what the job was like for me. It was like I was possessed by anger. I remember feeling so angry at my wife and kid. They couldn’t not cross the line if they tried. I had to correct them.

Interviewer: What was going through your mind during those five months?

Torrance: The first month was not too bad, just a bit lonely. I got a lot of writing done, but that was all I had to do other than a few routine maintenance checks. The next two months got worse. My wife and son struggled to keep themselves busy. I began feeling uncontrollable loneliness and vulnerability. By the fourth month, I felt like I was a different person. I couldn’t stand to be around my family or write another word. I started to see people that weren’t there. I talked to them, and they talked back. By the fifth month, I started drinking, and I couldn’t control myself anymore. It was like I was possessed. I talked to Grady, and I suddenly understood why he did what he did. I felt as if there was nothing more important to do at that point in time than to chop my family into pieces. Most people don’t have to face the fact that at the right time and place, they are capable of anything.

Interviewer: How do you feel about how you felt then?

Torrance: It is hard to believe I could be capable of such a thing. Before going to that hotel, I did some things to my family that I’m not proud of, but it’s nothing compared to attempted murder. And Hallorann, he got in my way. I feel terrible that he ended up dead, but he never should’ve been there.

Interviewer: Have you talked to your wife and son much since the incident?

Torrance: I talked to Wendy once about a month after that night, and once a few months after I was freed. She wants nothing to do with me, but she told me that Danny became some sort of doctor for sleep or something. Wendy said he was going back to the Overlook. I tried to meet him there, but as it turns out, the police don’t like me getting anywhere near that hotel, or anyone really. Anyways, Danny wants nothing to do with me whatsoever. Wendy doesn’t want to get anywhere near me either.

Interviewer: What have you done in the past forty years?

Torrance: I was in a psychiatric hospital for the first year, then prison for most of the rest. I wrote a few stories in prison. I’m thinking I should publish one.

Interviewer: I hope it’s more than ‘All work and no play makes Jack a dull boy”.

Torrance: ...

Interviewer: What was the worst part about the past forty years for you?

Torrance: I did not like prison. I didn’t get along well with the other inmates, but I remember feeling thankful that I was not alone, at the very least. I was transferred back to the mental hospital, but they thought I was faking a mental illness. The absolute worst part was being sent back to prison, but at least I got away from that wretched nurse they had.

Interviewer: You’re a free man now. How does it feel?

Torrance: It almost feels like they released me because I’m too old to hurt anybody now. Those forty years were wasted as far as I’m concerned. It’s hard to adjust back to normal life too. I don’t think I can ever really feel free. On the bright side, nobody can stop me from drinking now.

Interviewer: The doctors at the scene believe it was a miracle that you survived. You were exposed to a blizzard overnight and were still resuscitated. 

Torrance: I still can’t believe it.

Interviewer: Do you remember freezing in the maze?

Torrance: I was too weak to move. All I felt was rage. I don’t remember much else.

Interviewer: This photo was taken just before your resuscitation.

2h:19m:30s

Interviewer: How long were you out there?

Torrance: I don’t have a clue. Can I get a copy of that photo? I think I’d like it framed on my wall.

Interviewer: Some say the Overlook Hotel is possessed and that the hotel possesses its caretakers. How do you feel about that?

Torrance: I think the same myself. To be honest, I think the isolation did me in at first. It softened me up to be controlled. As I said, it was like I was watching myself from a different body.

Interviewer: A photo of a ball in the Overlook Hotel from 1921 has sparked some controversy. People say a man in the photo looks just like you, and that it actually is you.

Torrance: That’s nonsense.

Interviewer: Have you seen the photo? I’ll show you now.

2h:20m:45s

Torrance: Must be a coincidence. The guy certainly looks like me, but that can’t possibly be me. Why are you looking at me like that?

Interviewer: People say you are a reincarnation of the man in the photo.

Torrance: I don’t know if I believe in reincarnation. I’ll just let people have their fun.

Interviewer: That’s all the time I have today. Thank you very much, Jack. 

Torrance: Yeah, thanks for having me. Can I get that drink now?

[lookbluesoup]

Writing US Military Characters

This is a non-exhaustive list of some common ‘quirks’ or habits that can give away a character’s military experience. Wrote it up for myself and it’s particularly useful when I want to show instead of tell. These are based on first person accounts from several vets! Thought others might like to use it too for a reference :D Ones with * or ** came up particularly often.

Like any guide, it’s just that - a guide, not a set of rules! A character is unlikely to do all of these, and other factors like ADHD, trauma, or just personality might effect what sticks. People are endlessly diverse! 

Eat, Drink, Dress, and Rest

* High tolerance for physical discomfort

** Eat very fast, and aren’t picky about the taste

** Can sleep anywhere - on a helicopter, in enemy territory, up high, underground, when it’s loud, when it’s quiet

* Can operate effectively without sleep for over 24hrs, or with erratic and limited sleep for days

** Wake up early, 0500-0700; Wake up quickly and ready for action

* Hair cut regularly. Beards stay clean shaven (alternatively some may avoid shaving when out of uniform)

** Dress practically and neatly, jackets buttoned/zipped up, ironed, polished

Take hat off indoors 

Organization and Talents

Gearhead

Gun nut

Detail oriented

** Pockets are meticulous. The same thing always goes into the same pocket, for easy reach. Pockets never full to bulging. Carry multitool.

** Hands stay out of pockets - ready. (Hands in pockets is forbidden in the military. Some Special Forces may keep their hands in pockets, as their ‘grooming’ rules are less enforced. Because they can)

Always carry things with left hand (and ”southpaws” must learn to use standard right-handed weapons)

** Know how to clean house and keep it organized (may choose not to out of uniform)

** Can make bed and shower fast

Organize clothes to be able to dress and maneuver their own space in pitch black (Navy specifically)

Know how to sew basic repairs (i.e. a button)

Layout items before packing. Tight roll clothes. Pack efficiently

** Can read maps effectively, may prefer them to a GPS, use landmarks

Deadlines not always considered concrete (There is a military mantra, “Hurry up and wait.” Often one would be told to complete something or arrive somewhere at a certain time, but nothing would happen due to someone else’s task meant to be finished earlier still being incomplete)

** Alternatively (or in tandem), arrive 5-30 minutes early to every event

Things kept packed securely in the car, “ready for sea” and “heavy rolls” (Navy specifically)

Routines and Social

** Respect for the “Other” or “Them” - other religions, cultures, races, and ethnicities - had to work crammed together with a diverse group that may have strongly opposing viewpoints, and learn to trust each other to have their backs in dangerous situations (For many, military is their first real experience with different cultures and beliefs)

* Respect ≠ Like. Will go above and beyond for a respected leader, even if they are disliked

Deeply suspicious of red tape, bureaucracy, and bosses on power trips, and will only do the minimum required for these

** Low tolerance for slacking/job skirting

* Volunteer other people for tasks, and willing to be volunteered for things

Don’t ask people to do things they aren’t willing to do themselves

Still follow orders of bosses they dislike. Still have the backs of coworkers they dislike

** Like clear orders, responsibilities, chain of command, and penalties

* Have Plan A, Plan B, and Plan C

Actions matter more than ceremony; definite respect for processions, but excessive reverence for the flag/anthem/etc viewed as posturing rather than true patriotism

High tolerance for boredom

** Adaptable, high stress tolerance, work efficiently, self reliant

** Avoid having their back to an opening (windows/doors/etc) or sitting anywhere someone can sneak up on them from

* Avoid loud, crowded areas, check perimeters, barricade doors, sleep last in a group (may coincide with PTSD)

Always walk on the right side of a road/grocery aisle/etc

Stand at parade rest, walk cadence, walk fast

* Walk quietly, even in boots, sneak quickly (military crouch run)

De-escalation in violence - in protective armed situations the standard is: 1) multiple warnings, 2) warning shots, 3) shoot to incapacitate. Shoot to kill is a last resort. (not following these steps could get an ally or potential ally killed) In verbal disagreement, resolve an issue before it escalates

* Wariness toward and tendency to feel Other’ed by civilians

* Immediate acceptance toward other military, expectation of shared values

Vernacular

Observe before speaking in a situation, only speak if it seems significantly important to

Refer to people as “Sir” or “Ma’am”

Giving out nicknames

** Speak directly, make direct eye contact (sometimes comes off as rude, often intimidates)

* Don’t take criticism or disagreement personally, expect others not to, either, and will point out flaws even to superiors (but again, orders are respected)

** Clear communication, acknowledge messages by replying, even if that’s just a thumbs up or down

** Swearing. Lots of swearing. Every other word is swearing

** Dark sense of humor, and racist/sexist jokes - not indicative of individual’s actual belief system or violent tendencies

Unbothered by angry yelling, angry quiet people are more concerning

** Point with ‘knife hands’, not just a single finger

** Use a 24 hour clock instead of a 12 am/pm; i.e. 0800 hours, not 8am (Called ”Military Time” in the US) 

Describe locations by o’clock directions, i.e. dog standing at 6 o’clock

* Write out dates as day-month-year (US usually does month-day-year) i.e. 21Oct57

** Use phonetic alphabet to spell things out, or at least have it memorized

** Habitually use military terms or sayings, including:

Good to go - Mission ready, ready to proceed

Squared away - Compliment indicating exemplary service

Popping a smoke - Need to get out of here [From using smoke grenades to call helicopters for extraction]

“Sir yes sir” [A ‘sir sandwich’] 

FUBAR - F*cked up beyond all recognition

SNAFU -  Situation normal, all f*cked up

TARFU -  Things are really f*cked up

BOLO - Be on the lookout

ATL - Attempt to locate

IAW - In accordance with

Civilian - Non-military person

Roger - Message received and understood

“Say again your last.” - What?

Firearm- Gun

Ruck - backpack

March - walk

Double time - running

PT - working out

Rally point - meetup

Field day - Spring Cleaning (Navy specifically)

Get smoked - Laps, pushups, etc as punishment