#i am old now and i do not function past like 10

[cobaltfluff]

to care for an alley cat :3c

[prettygirl-gabi]

One-on-One

Pairing: Paige Bueckers x Reader (Coach’s Daughter)

Fandom: WNBA: Dallas Wings

Summary: they say shooters shoot…

🏷️: @paigeshirleytemple , @cowboybueckers , @unknowgirlypop , @yailtsv , @nicebellee , @sitawita , @thatonesuschix , @vamptizm , @elalfywhore , @starfulani , @authentic-girl03 , @paxaz535 , @azziswrld , @jadasogay , @paigeluvvr , @melpthatsme , @lessi-lover , @courtsidewithlani , @imnotkaizer , @italyyy , @lightsgore , @private-but-not-a-secret , @aubreygriffin ,@issilovesherself , @graceeeeeesblog

If you’d told seventeen-year-old me that someday Paige Bueckers would be standing across from me in a Dallas Wings practice jersey, spinning a ball on her finger, grinning at me like we shared some inside joke—I would’ve laughed.

And probably cried.

And then immediately passed out.

Yet here I am.

And it’s somehow worse than I imagined, because she’s real, she’s even more beautiful than a screen ever showed me, and she’s smiling like she knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

It had been a normal first day of practice—rookies meeting vets, drills, intro speeches—and I’d just been here to help my dad, Dallas Wings’ head coach Chris Koclanes, with welcoming the new players.

You know.

Like a normal, functioning adult who wasn’t crushing like a giddy teenager.

And maybe it would’ve stayed innocent if Arike hadn’t cornered me at the Gatorade table.

“You’ve got it bad,” she said in that sing-song voice that meant trouble.

I groaned. “Don’t.”

“She’s looking good in Dallas gear, huh?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“Well, either you make a move before practice ends or I will.”

I blinked. “You’re bluffing.”

She smirked. “You know I’m not.”

And that’s why I’m now standing at half-court, holding a basketball, heart pounding loud enough I’m convinced Paige can hear it.

“You sure about this?” Paige asks, tossing her towel onto a bench. There’s an amused twinkle in her eye, like she’s very much enjoying this.

“Scared?” I tease.

She snorts. “Of you? Never.”

I spin the ball once on my palm. “First to eleven. Ones and twos. Loser…” I pause, letting it hang dramatically, “…has to buy dinner.”

“And if you win, you’re buying dinner?”

“Nope. If I win,” I say, walking backward toward the three-point line, “you give me your number.”

She raises an eyebrow, but she’s smiling. “Confident.”

I shrug. “I’ve been waiting years for this moment.”

Her laugh is low, a little breathless. “Alright, coach’s kid. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Paige checks the ball and immediately fakes left, drives right, and lays it in.

“1-0,” she says, grinning, jogging backward.

“You’ve been here five minutes and you’re already trying to embarrass me,” I say, checking it back.

She shrugs, playful. “Gotta set the tone early.”

I fake a stepback, blow past her, and hit a quick floater off the glass.

“1-1,” I say, smug.

“Ooooh, we got a game,” Arike shouts from the sideline, recording it on her phone.

Over the next few minutes, it’s back and forth.

She calls out my lazy defense.

I chirp her about missing an open three.

We’re grinning the entire time, bumping shoulders, getting a little too close for it to just be casual competition.

At 7-6 her, she leans in during a dead ball and whispers, “You know, if you wanted my number this bad, you could’ve just asked.”

I nearly travel.

“You’re cocky,” I say, shaking my head as I check the ball.

“And you’re adorable,” she says easily, clapping her hands for the pass.

I nearly pass out.

We battle until it’s 10-10.

Game point. Winner takes all.

We’re both sweating, a little out of breath. She’s bouncing on her toes, her eyes locked on mine.

“You ready to lose in front of your dad?” she teases.

“You ready to explain to the whole team how you got cooked by a ‘retired’ player?” I shoot back.

Her grin is everything.

I jab step, fake right, crossover left—

and pull up for a jumper just inside the arc.

Swish.

I throw my arms up as the small group watching cheers.

“Let’s goooo!” Arike yells, jumping around like a fool.

I turn to Paige, who’s standing with her hands on her hips, smiling like she just lost on purpose.

“Hand it over, Bueckers,” I say, wiggling my fingers for her phone.

She pulls it from her waistband and tosses it to me.

As I type my number in, she leans in close enough for me to smell her vanilla body spray.

“You’re dangerous,” she murmurs.

“Only if you’re into that.”

Her laugh is soft. Secret. “Guess I’ll find out.”

Later, after the gym clears out, I stop by my dad’s office.

He’s behind his desk, tapping on a laptop.

“You heading out?” he asks.

I nod, trying to sound casual. “Yeah, gonna show Paige around. Deep Ellum, maybe Bishop Arts.”

He raises an eyebrow but says nothing for a second too long.

“What?” I ask suspiciously.

He shrugs. “You had that look on your face. The one from sophomore year, when you thought she liked one of your Instagram posts.”

“Oh my God.”

He laughs. “Just don’t break my rookie’s heart, alright?”

I pause, the humor fading slightly. “What if she breaks mine?”

He looks at me for a long moment. Serious. Dad-mode activated.

“Then I’ll bench her.”

We both laugh, the tension breaking.

“Go,” he says, waving me off. “But be home by midnight or I’m calling Arike to find you both.”

I salute him dramatically and jog out before I can combust from second-hand embarrassment.

We end up at a taco truck in Deep Ellum, sitting on the curb with greasy napkins and lime wedges everywhere. It’s casual and easy—until Paige turns to me, holding her drink.

“So… your dad kinda let something slip yesterday,” she says, tone light.

My stomach drops. “Slip, like what?”

She bites her straw to hide a smile. “At the rookie press conference. After he introduced us to the staff. He was talking about you, to me.”

I narrow my eyes. “Oh God. What did he say?”

“He said—” she pauses for dramatic effect, “—‘She’s been a fan of yours for a long time. Could practically write a dissertation on your highlight reel.’”

I groan and hide my face in my hands.

“Yup,” Paige says, laughing. “So I knew.”

“You knew—this whole time?!”

She nods, sipping casually. “And I still let you think you were being subtle.”

I groan again.

“But,” she says, nudging my knee with hers, “I thought it was cute.”

I peek out between my fingers. “You don’t think I’m, like… a weirdo?”

She shrugs. “Maybe a little. But in a good way. Honestly? I think it’s kinda hot that you risked public humiliation for my number.”

I blink. “You think I’m hot?”

She smirks. “Don’t push your luck, coach’s kid.”

I laugh, bumping my shoulder into hers.

We sit there for a while longer, just…talking. About Dallas. About her adjusting to the WNBA. About me adjusting to not being an athlete anymore.

It feels easy. Natural. Like it was always supposed to happen.

And when she walks me back to my car, she lingers for a second, eyes flickering to my mouth before she says, “Let’s do this again.”

I grin. “Wasn’t planning on stopping.”

She slides her hand into mine briefly—barely a brush of fingers—and it’s the best first almost-date of my life.

■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■■

                 -Thank You For Reading!🩵🩶

                             -prettygirl-gabi🎀✨️

[thefrogman]

Froggie's Mailbox Adventures

I have been wanting to tell this story for a while now. This all happened right before my birthday and then I got sick for 4 weeks and didn't have the energy to talk about it.

So let us take a trip into the recent past to hear a tale of woe and triumph with a bunch of extra woe interspersed throughout.

It all began on the 4th of July.

Some neighborhood rascals ruined my old mailbox with a baseball bat.

They also destroyed my brand new mailbox sensor that lets me know when there is mail so I don't have to make multiple trips to check.

(Ring replaced it for free, so that was nice.)

Originally, I was going to hire someone to replace the mailbox. But I was not having much luck finding someone who could do that specific task. (I've been having trouble finding help in general due to living in a supposedly "dangerous" area.)

So I decided to try and install the mailbox myself. And I had no idea how much of an adventure that was going to be...

My first step was tearing off the old one to see how it was mounted.

I got some paper and a sharpie and noted where the holes were. And, of course, they didn't line up with the new mailbox.

Which is a really nice mailbox. I mean, it is solid. Check this bad boy out and please don't notice the dirty clothes lying on the floor in the background.

It is always so tempting to save a few bucks and get the cheaper thing, but I am so glad I splurged on this. It looks nice. It functions well. It has magnets. And I don't think it can be baseball-batted without some instant karmic retribution from Newton's third law.

My next step was to get a new mounting plate. And even though I try not to go to Home Depot because it is run by a bunch of conservative religious bigots... I went to Home Depot.

I was a little nervous about leaving the house at the time because I was still struggling with my heart issue (which I think is mostly resolved now). I was trying to be very careful about how much I exerted myself. I really didn't want to have an episode while I was out and about.

After searching for a while I discovered they had a mounting plate and a pressure-treated mounting board. I could do wood or metal. And they were located on completely opposite ends of the store because of course they were.

I had both items in my hand and I did that thing where you just keep staring at something hoping a useful thought will pop into your brain. I had no clue which one was better for my needs. There is surprisingly little information regarding mailbox installation on the internet. YouTube really let me down on this one. I was just kinda winging it and solving problems as I went along.

I stared for for a little while longer and no useful thoughts happened.

I was tired of staring so I just said, "Fuck it" and made an executive decision.

Then I almost passed out in Home Depot.

I spent too much time walking around that gigantic monstrosity of a store and my heart started beating super fast and my legs felt like jello and I started getting quite dizzy.

I was in rough shape.

So... I had a little lie-down next to a wall of tape measures.

I just stared up at them thinking about all of the things I could measure.

I could measure a dog.

Or a horsie.

Or a horsie the size of a dog.

Then I thought, "Ooh, that one has lasers! I NEED IT."

My brain was not functioning at 100% in that moment.

After about 10 minutes of thinking about lasers and things I could measure with lasers, my body seemed to reboot and I was able to get up. Thankfully no one saw me and thought there was a dead body in the aisle or something. But that was still embarrassing all the same.

Once my heart slowed down I was able to pay and make it out to the car. I headed home and saw one of the most unusual sunsets of my life. The sun was dim and a shade of orange I have never seen in nature. It was like, cheeto orange. Not only that, it was a perfect circle with a super crisp outline. It didn't look real.

I tried to get a picture of it but when I looked at the picture later, the camera didn't capture anything like what I saw.

This is the best approximation I can manage. But it still doesn't do it justice.

I was hoping I could get home in time to grab my real camera and capture this strange setting sun, but it dipped below the horizon just as I pulled into my driveway.

I then started problem solving how to get the new mailbox in place with the items I purchased. And I was on a deadline because I have no clue what happens when the mailperson arrives and they don't have a mailbox to put the mail in. Do they just throw it on the ground? Do they get to keep the mail? Are they going to use all of my grocery coupons?

And for some reason, my post office does not keep a consistent delivery schedule. I've been trying to figure out a pattern for weeks and they just seem to come "whenever" and that is about as close as I can pin it down. Which is why I got the mailbox sensor.

Due to my near fainting episode in Home Depot, I was in no shape to be handy, so I was trying to think of a temporary solution to put the new mailbox on without properly mounting it. At first I was going to just wrap it in packing tape a bunch of times. But then I noticed I had a bunch of string. And I decided that was a more interesting solution... for reasons? My brain was still not doing well. But when I tried to tie the new mailbox to the post with the string it failed miserably. And I realized the packing tape wouldn't work either. The mailbox did not sit flat on the post and it wiggled. However, because I tried the dumb string method, I discovered this wiggle issue and it actually helped me figure out how to mount it.

I gave up for the night and decided to hope I could install the box in the morning before "whenever" happened. The next morning I started drawing dots on boards and comparing my old holes to my new holes and measuring clearances. (Measuring without lasers like a chump.) I needed to elevate the mailbox in order to mount it and that's when I thought to combine the board and the plate. I could screw the board into the old holes and then create new holes in the board for the plate to attach. And the plate lined up with the holes in the bottom of the new mailbox.

EASY!

It was a pretty big brain moment for me and I felt like I just solved quantum physics or something.

You're probably pretty confused because you are not as smart as I am.

Here is a diagram to help.

The board mounts to the post arm. The plate screws into the board. The mailbox screws into the plate.

Or just use string.

Also, how fortunate was it that I stared for all that time and got frustrated and just bought both things?

My next problem was that my drill wouldn't fit inside the mailbox and I couldn't screw the screws in place. So I drilled pilot holes in the board so I could manually screw in the screws with a ratcheting right angle screwdriver.

And the only reason I had one of those is because I use it as a fidget toy. (I like the clicky sounds.)

Another lucky happenstance!

I tried to prepare as much as I could in my garage before dragging all of my tools to the end of my lengthy driveway. I brought along my dad's old rolling walker so I'd have something to transport everything.

But also so I'd have something to sit on while I was installing the new box. Then I wouldn't have another heart episode and need another lie-down.

Seriously, how big is my brain?

I am like the smartest person alive.

So I got to the end of the driveway with all of my tools and my board and my plate and my templates and I realized something was missing.

The new mailbox.

I am like the dumbest person alive.

After a quick back-and-forth to retrieve the mailbox, I got started on my master mounting plan.

I screwed the board onto the post arm.

Then I screwed the plate into the board.

Then I lined up the new mailbox onto the plate.

But as I was doing this, I was kinda sticking out into the street a little bit. And usually that isn't a big deal. Cars can see me from very far away and they were just steering around me. But then two cars came from opposite directions at the same time and I was in a precarious position where I could not move. One car steered wide to avoid me, and for some reason, the other car decided not to slow down but to drive off the edge of the street.

And as they pulled this maneuver I heard a loud thump, followed by a loud pop, and then the sound of hissing getting farther and farther away.

Like a snake version of the Doppler effect.

They drove directly into this and popped their tire.

On the one hand, I felt a little responsible and guilty. On the other, it is not my responsibility to fix the street. And on a third hand, that was silly driving behavior and perhaps they will see this as a learning moment.

After processing what just happened I got back to the task at hand. To my delight and surprise, all of my planning and problem-solving was working. Everything fit together perfectly. The right angle ratcheting screwdriver was screwing in the screws. And after I tightened the final one...

I had successfully installed a new mailbox, on my own, without any jankiness or tape or string.

Like, I did this legit proper.

Tons of pure endorphins rushed into wherever endorphins go. (Again, I am very smart.) That feeling of accomplishment was pure ecstasy. I had no idea how to do this and in less than 24 hours I was basically an expert mailbox installer. I took some shots of my work on my phone so I could brag to Katrina, packed up all of my tools, and began to walk back to the house.

And... my heart started beating fast again.

And... I needed to have another little lie-down in the grass next to my driveway.

I stared up at the sky and was frustrated and proud simultaneously. A weird mixture of emotions. At the time I didn't know if my heart could be fixed. But thankfully I had my sense of accomplishment to temper my heart sadness.

And then I thought, "I should get a new address sign."

Epilogue time!

I got on Amazon and started looking up new signs. And I found one that was solar powered and lit up at night. So clearly I needed to have that one. My midnight food delivery people will never struggle to find my house again!

And it actually looked pretty neat.

(My address is not actually four 0s, but you are free to try sending me something.)

The sign was very easy to read... if you were super duper close.

But if you were farther away...

You couldn't actually distinguish the numbers. And it kinda looked weird next to the mailbox. And headlights made the numbers even harder to see. Which was the opposite of what I was going for.

So I opted to get a more traditional sign.

(Please send items to the realm of nothingness. I am in the void.)

But this bugged me because the sign was a different size than the old sign and the connection points didn't line up perfectly.

I HAD A CATAWAMPUS CHAIN!

WHICH IS THE MOST UNACCEPTABLE KIND OF WAMPUS!

It was at this point that Katrina started making fun of my perfectionism.

But this wasn't perfectionism for perfection's sake.

My Dad was having trouble fixing things around the house. And some other kids knocked over the previous, previous mailbox. And he found the strength to go to the store, get a new one, and install it all by himself. He was at the end of the driveway, attached to his portable oxygen canisters, and fixing one last thing for this house.

And I guess I just wanted to get it back to perfect. Because he never did any handyman task half-assed. He was a full-ass handyman. Always.

So... I fixed the sign.

Perfectly balanced.

Again, feel free to send me stuff to 0000 Road.

I'm sure it will get here... "whenever."

[weaselle]

#i have a solution for a lot of this i'd love to implement but it means completely changing how people acquire and own dogs so#idk if i'll ever figure out how to make it happen

Would love to hear your proposed solution! I've been thinking a lot about providing satisfying enrichment to dogs, since right now I have a five-month-old puppy of unknown/mixed breed who of course has a steadily increasing amount of energy. She seems to enjoy doing obedience-type stuff with me, and I'm planning to try nosework with her soon, and when she's bigger I'm hoping to take her running/hiking.

ooooooo now you done it! :)

first of all, congrats on a great dog, sounds like you two are going to be really good together! I l really love the interest you are taking in enrichment. If you are not a runner yourself but want to run your dog, i can recommend biking your dog with walkydog (or any other similar product by some different brand, but i use walkydog even though the name drives me crazy because it's not for walking your dog lol)

i used this for 8 years with my own dog, and i've also been doing it professionally for other people's dogs (tho i did have to upgrade to a whole rig i designed and built for running dogs, i actually spent most of today working on a redesign to fix fit six dogs and just be generally better, but here's the original)

anyway, biking with my dog was so fulfilling i decided to make it my main job, so, i totally recommend it. You gotta wait until your dog is at least 18 months though, because regular long runs on hard surfaces can create lifelong joint issues if you start them on it too soon. But once you decide to start it will be easy i'm sure, 95% of the dogs i've done it with understand the assignment and decide they love it within the first 10 minutes of trying it. Even small dogs, as long as they are proportional in the leg department. What i mean is a jack russel is fine for this (they make a low attachment for small dogs) but a dachshund has stubby legs and a long back and should not be considered for this activity. And if they are a breed that has big fat paws (most bully breeds, giant schnauzers etc) you have to check their foot pads often and possibly get them some mushing booties.

OKAY, on to the actual ask! you came here from a specific post, dear Anon, but i'm going to paste the relevant part of that post here for other people

"Human lifestyles and canine lifestyles used to be a ven diagram that was much closer to a circle. We used to both live in the woods and hunt creatures and defend territory. Even farming or ranching is not too far from this lifestyle. It has been a great match up for a long time. But now, modern™ society has us living in a way that is much less of a match up. Clients want me to train their dogs not to bark, and are not encouraged when i explain that we spent literally thousands of years asking them to bark more, actually, so it’s going to be an uphill battle. Humans used to have very physical lifestyles, and it use d to be much rarer to spend a day where your dog couldn’t be with you all day doing normal dog behaviors. Now our lives are full of very strict and confining rules of behavior we expect from a dog, and yet people are spending less time than ever socializing/training their dogs to be functioning members of their own pack. It’s sad."

Now, what did i come up with that would be a much better system for how people acquire and own dogs? this post is already getting long, so, answer below the cut

First, specifically what problems am I solving? So for me, the main issues is nobody is teaching dogs how to be a good fit for a modern home. Let's break that down

People want dogs to have a lot of boundaries. For example don't bark unless someone is literally breaking in but also i haven't trained you what that looks like so how are you supposed to know -- be with me in public but do not interact with almost anything at all -- don't run up to greet people or other dogs unless we find out if it's okay with them first. Right? there's a lot of stuff we want from our dogs.

People want their dogs to be able to amuse themselves and not need a person, like, they want their dog to go lay down on their dog bed and chew their dog toys for hours at a time or whatever, the way we would happily spend a few hours online or watching TV shows or something. But most of what a dog would naturally do to amuse themselves is off limits -- no going out and exploring the world on your own -- no digging things up, taking things apart, or getting into things like the food cupboards -- no barking at other dogs, chasing cats, or eating random ground scores ... dogs aren't allowed to do almost anything they would do to amuse themselves, we basically tell them, "you can only do fun things i pick out for you and most of them only if i'm supervising, and i'm only available for about an hour a couple times a day. The rest of the time you have to be bored and waiting on me for fun, but also don't be so bored that you decide to bother me, i'm busy and you can't be involved"

We wish they would have fun by themselves in a way that doesn't involve them getting into trouble, but "getting into trouble" is most of their natural desires, and we tend to not find things they can spend time at on their own. Plus they'd rather do it with us anyway, it's like, you don't want go to an amusement park alone, you only want to go if your friends are going, and life is often one big amusement park to a dog.

But if your dog is trained to be in public, you can involve them with a lot more of your day!

And people aren't socializing their dogs right either. A puppy would normally spend a year or more, 100% of their waking life in the company of their littermates, teaching each other things like "if you are an asshole others won't want to play with you and you might get bit" and "paying attention to what others are communicating to you is important" and "biting me that hard is okay for playing but biting me this hard hurts actually and i hate it and play time is over now" all kinds of super necessary things for a young dog to learn

But we take them at 8-10 weeks! and then WE don't teach them this stuff! and we expect them to be alone for long periods of time! and not sleep in a giant cuddle pile of loved ones, and not be participating in what their siblings or mother are doing 100% of their waking life.

It's crazy, we're basically severing a dog from the experiences they need to be a well adjusted member of our pack, and then we go like "why are you like this!?"

Oh dear, i still haven't gotten to the actual solution

SO. Here it is:

Dogs, should be born and raised in a facility (not like a sterile warehouse building or whatever, yuck, but yes like, a place designed inside and out for the sole purpose of raising dogs)

At this facility would be adult dogs that also help teach the dogs (important, in terms of socialization and even in modeling behavior, dogs can often learn more from other dogs than we can teach them on our own) And of course there would be a staff of professional dog nannies/trainers.

Dogs would learn things like, proper barking etiquette, go to the bathroom where they are told it is okay (not just in the yard, but where in the yard, and how to be told where is okay if, for example staying in a hotel or overnight with friends or family) no resource guarding (no threatening to bite anyone who gets too near their food or toys etc) how to behave around children and small pets, how to behave in public, how to calmly let someone feel between their toes, clip their nails, enjoy a bath, behave at the vet, not beg for food, heel off leash, how to learn new home and pack responsibilities using a basic toolkit (so for example they know basic task "carry", and understand that they may be asked to do jobs involving that, such as "help me carry groceries in from the car. Dogs LOVE to be a functional part of the pack). All this and more.

all the things that give a pet dog access to a better life. If they are calm at the vet they don't have to be held down or other things that can cause panic, if they behave in public they can go with their people more places more often, etc. As well as some additional bonuses like get outside if you hear a fire alarm, don't be scared of fireworks, the difference between safe sidewalks and dangerous roadways...

The time, energy, and skill to do all this for your dog? nobody has all three. Getting a dog from a facility like this would result in a dog that had actually been given the tools to be a really good fit for a modern home, which means a better life for the people, and a MUCH more fulfilling life for the dog.

But people want puppies. I get that. Here's how it works. Keep in mind that most dogs become fully adult at about 2 years old, and that once the facility was operating the exact ages and periods of time would probably be adjusted and fine tuned, but here's the basic idea

you come see the puppies at about 2 weeks old, visit as many days a week as you want. At twelve weeks old (3 months) specific puppies and people are matched. Continue to visit as many days a week as you wish, and take your puppy home for 24 hours every other week (remember most people bring puppies home from a breeder at 8-10 weeks, so this is prime puppy age)

Meanwhile you start taking our one class per month, year long dog course, matched to the stage of development your puppy is experiencing, held at the facility where you have access to, for example, watching trainers work with dogs, and observing groups of dogs in areas alone together, so that you understand dog behavior and communication, understand the basics of dog training, etc, and we are all on the same page when your dog does come to live with you.

At six months old your puppy is this much of a puppy still :

They start joining you for most of your classes which can become more personal, helping you practice whatever you are trying to accomplish at home. Also starting at 6 months you take your puppy home every other weekend.

At 8 months you take your puppy three weekends each month (actual days don't mater, if you work in restaurants and what to have your dog on your "weekend" of wednesday/thursday that's fine, it should just be your days off so that you can dedicate enough of your time to being with your puppy) At ten months you take your puppy every weekend, or perhaps something like for one week in the first half of the month and one weekend in the second half.

One year old puppies are starting to look like a whole dog but are still only half baked

At a year, your once a month classes end, and you take your dog home every other week. You are half a dog owner, you spend half your time with your half grown dog.

Between 18 months and 2 years is a normal age for wolves to begin setting out on their own; being 18 months is sort of the dog equivalent to being 17 years old.

So when your dog is a year and a half, 18 months old, you take one follow up class and your dog starts spending 3 weeks per month with you.

At a year and nine months old they are only spending 1 weekend a month at the facility (again, could be any two days of the week) and the rest of the month they live with you.

At two years old you take your final class which is mostly a group Q&A with a little graduation party, and your dog comes to live with you full time as a newly adult dog. But they've already been spending at least 3 weeks a month with you for the last half a year, and about half of every month for the six months before that.

And then for the next year they come back to the facility for a weekend of training touch-ups and trouble shooting, once every three or four months if they are having no issues, once a month if needed.

If this was the norm, dog owners and their dogs would all have better lives.

Costs of this raising could be augmented through boarding and daycare, since the facility would be an ideal place for dogs to stay, as well as the programs outlined below, such that each dog is not too expensive for people. Currently people spend a lot of money for purebreds and very little money for random adopted dogs, and something like this could still be true, (responsibly bred) purebreds for more money, mutts for much less, but all with access to the full training -- it's important that the dogs all not cost too much or it won't be normalized and puppy mills and backyard breeders etc will still provide a huge percentage of the dogs people get and then only rich people's dogs will benefit from what i am trying to do, so, these other programs and pure-breed mark ups etc would be necessary)

So these facilities should also be training service dogs of all kinds, and, depending on the location of the facility (city or countryside) different jobs like search and rescue, herding, anything related to law enforcement (simply because i 100% do not trust the cops to be training their own dogs) hunting... any and all dog jobs.

AND this would be a perfect way to ensure my other dog idea gets done

Because i think there should be battalions of diagnostic dogs.

I think there should be a few diagnostic dogs at every public event, every sporting event, every concert, every mall, and certainly every hospital... Every crowded place there should be a few dogs moving though, or posted up at walkway intersections, etc. Dogs that diagnose heart murmurs, diabetes, cancer, whatever; dogs can diagnose all kinds of things. It only takes a few sniffs or a few seconds of listening and they can know. As a free diagnostic service paid for by municipalities, states, or federal healthcare funding, they could be pointing out all the people who have these conditions to their handlers (who would have little business cards that just said, hey you've been dog-diagnosed with ____, you should probably check with your doctor about that"). And you could get like, special little lightly scented bracelets or key chains or necklaces or something that would let dogs know if you've already been diagnosed with their thing.

Many of these conditions currently require lab work and weeks of time and a bunch of money to diagnose, and you have to realize you might have it and ask for it and your doctor has to agree that it's necessary, it's a whole thing... but a dog could do it for free in 10 seconds while you were walking into a shopping center.

Anyway, those are some of my dog thoughts

[lqveharrington]

Silver Roses & Fallen Snow

10: The Gravestone (series masterlist)

summary: you and your father grieve your mother every year, and it’s the first year you don’t have Coriolanus to comfort you.

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x fem!reader

includes: death, fluff, angst, mentions of murder, anxiety, grief, manipulation, italics are flashbacks

wc: 2.7k +

a/n: are we rooting for coriolanus or finn???

Your heart was racing. You could feel the blood rushing through your body as your father told you what had happened. The tears were free falling down your face as you clawed at your chest, sobs filling the air with every breath you took.

“Let me see her!” You sobbed as your father held you close to his chest, running his fingers through your hair. “Daddy, let me see her!”

Your father shook his head, “I can’t let you do that, baby. She doesn't want you to see her like this.”

“I don’t care!” You hit his chest with your curled fists. “I want to see her!”

Adam Lovett just hugged you tighter in your attempts to escape his hold. You tried to resist, but the overwhelming emotions took over and you sobbed in his chest until all your tears were completely spent. And in the middle of the manor’s foyer, the father-daughter pair stayed there until you fell asleep with the thought of losing your mother. Inevitably.

You gasped and shot up from bed, clutching your aching heart. You pushed back your hair sticking to your face and breathed heavily until you got yourself to calm down, much slower than usual since you couldn’t find something you were looking for. Taking in short breaths to try and calm yourself, you glanced at the clock for the time.

4:00 AM

That wasn’t ideal.

It was the anniversary week of your mother’s death. She was bedridden until her final breath; which she used to give you one last hug before she was taken from you. This was the only week where you and your father were able to communicate properly with one another, the week where he would let you do anything. But you both spent most of the week by her grave, telling her everything that happened in your lives since she departed.

Whenever this week came and tormented your dreams, your father didn’t care if Coriolanus was over; for the sake of protecting you. But since you were on your own for the first time in years, you had to face the true depth of your misery with the full blow. In the past, Coriolanus would be your rock, your shield from the awful reality. He would ensure you would still eat, bathe, and interact with others through your despair. Now that he wasn’t here to be your personal checklist, you had to drag yourself out of bed to allow normal bodily functions to occur.

By the time you were done washing up properly and looking presentable enough to leave the room, it was already 6:30 AM. You sighed softly as you made the slow trek down to the dining room. The Avoxes cleaning the house nodded at you as you walked passed and sent you looks of pity.

You hated it when they did that. Not that you hated your Avoxes, but you didn’t need their pity. You’ve lived long enough without your mother to know it was disheartening without others needing to send their condolences. They were just being nice, you knew that, but it made your mood worsen.

Entering the dining hall, you spot your father picking at his breakfast, eyes more distant than usual. His whole demeanor was worse than it usually was during this week. He looked like he was lost in his own world, clothes and hair heavily disheveled. You quietly took your seat near him, watching his eyes snap toward you in an instant.

“Morning.” You murmur and search his eyes for any indication of your father’s past.

Adam stared at you with saddened eyes, running his fingers through his hair in exhaustion. “Morning, apple. How did you sleep last night?”

You rub your eyes, not registering the old nickname your father used for you. The clinking of the Avoxes preparing your breakfast canceled out anything you were thinking of. “Bad.”

“Nightmares?”

The silence that came afterward solidified your unspoken answer. It was still hard for the both of you to come to terms with the haunting nightmares of your mother’s pain, but it was something you learned to live with after a while. The soft clattering of your father’s utensils and the sound of the Avoxes bustling around in the manor distracted your mind a little longer before you spoke once more.

“Do I have anything planned today?” You ask quietly, finally taking a bite from the fruit on your plate. You hoped you had nothing planned at all this week, it didn’t matter how important any plan was.

Your father shook his head, slightly relieved you ate something. “Nothing this week. If you choose to stay home or go out, please have someone escort you.”

Silence took its place again until your father’s chair scraped against the hardwood floor, causing your eyes to shoot up toward him. He adjusted his suit and pulled out a pocket watch, shutting his eyes briefly before acknowledging you.

“I have a meeting today with the Head Game Maker today that apparently couldn’t be moved.” He states with disdain in his voice. “But after that, I’m gone for the whole day. If you need anything from me, you know where to find me.”

You bow your head down in grief, nodding softly. It was like this every day for the entire week, and neither of you cared to break the tradition. And as always, you asked the same question you did when you were a child.

“Can we eat dinner there?” You murmur, looking up at him before he can leave the dining hall completely.

“Of course, we can.”

Apparently, for a consecutive month, you could mourn. You mourned for Sejanus, the deaths of those in the games, and your mother. It was like your closet was filled with never-ending skirts and dresses of black — a void representing those lost to time. And at this rate, you’d be wearing black on the first day of University. Which, oddly enough, the uniforms for university were black and blue.

“I’m surprised you actually want to hang out with me outside of boxing and your stupid plans.” Finn sipped on his black tea as you walked side by side at the park, his black suit jacket hanging around your shoulders. Where he got more suits was not something you wanted to question.

“My plans aren’t stupid.” You throw a tired glare at him, taking his black tea and sipping it, grimacing at the liquid. It was like tasting mulch, and you wished you had your hot chocolate with you right now. The smell of the tea was enough to make you hurl.

He takes his cup back from you, nudging your shoulder. “You killed someone.”

“No one knows that.” You speak through your teeth, smiling at the old couple passing the both of you. When they walked past you, you gave Finn the middle finger, eliciting a hefty laugh from the man.

“Right, stupid.” He rolled his eyes affectionately before guiding you to sit on a park bench in front of the water fountain.

You watched the small ducks chase one another around before their mother broke them up, making you smile. It was rare for you to see animals in the Capitol, and surely the birds would have migrated soon as the colder months approached. Finn stared at you with a silent war raging in his mind, debating whether or not he should ask you why you wanted to hang out. And of course, he chose the former.

“I know you wouldn’t just ask to hang out out of nowhere, so why?” He asked slowly, frowning when your smile faded to a solemn, tight-lipped expression.

“I—“ You sigh, rubbing your eyes. “I can’t be alone right now. It’s my mother’s death week.” You lean your head back on the bench, shutting your eyes for temporary relief. “My father doesn’t like me going out on my own during this week because of… Well, everything that’s happened in our lives.”

Finn laced his hand with yours, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me. Just relax.”

You peeled your eyes open to look at him, smiling softly. “I don’t say this enough to you, but thank you for everything.”

He kissed the side of your head, murmuring softly. “I’m always here for you.”

You flattened out your pleated black dress as you stepped out of the car toward the graveyard. You held your bouquet of white roses as you began the slow journey to your mother’s gravestone.

With each headstone you passed, you felt their history brush you. Died for our Country. A Father, A Son, A Brother. Lived for the hope of it all. Each personal story was engraved on their stones to tell those passing by that they were here and thriving.

Every year you came here, you stopped to read the newer ones. Many of the newer ones were those who died from old age or died as young as four due to unfair treatment due to the lack of medical attention. As you left a flower on the youngest gravestone you’ve seen in a while, your eye caught a glimpse of blonde hair by the willow tree where your mother’s grave was buried.

Blinking, you slowly stood up and you did in fact find Coriolanus Snow standing above your mother’s grave with a solemn look on his face. However, your father was standing beside him. You couldn’t hear them, but it seemed like they were talking about something important with how your father creased his brows in thought.

You watched them a little longer until shock decorated your face. Coriolanus Snow and Adam Lovett were shaking hands. To your understanding, that meant they made a deal. Coriolanus laid the bouquet of white tulips on your mother’s grave before taking his leave.

The urge to ask him what he was doing was strong. So, to your mind’s disappointment and your heart’s desire, curiosity got the better of you.

“Coriolanus,” You caught his arm as you walked toward him, his blue eyes burning a hole in yours. “What are you doing?”

“Paying my respects. She was like a mother to me too, beautiful.” Coriolanus gave you the smallest smile while his fingers came to play with the ends of your hair.

You look down at his hand before meeting his eyes again. “What were you and my father talking about?”

His lips turned up a little more, making you even more confused. “You.”

“Why?” You murmured as your eyes drifted back to the necklace hanging around his neck, the shine haunting you. “He isn’t the best to talk to this week.”

“I noticed.” He copied your volume, moving his hand down from your hair to your free hand, gently moving his thumb across your palm. “But I really am here to pay respects to your mother.”

You watched him trace his name on your hand and whispered a small, “Thank you.”

Coriolanus nodded and let go of your hand, meeting your eyes again. “I’m always here if you need me.”

You hesitated but let yourself give him a hug, burying your head in his chest like you used to. It still gave you comfort after everything that went down between the two of you. He carefully wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head.

“Can you visit with me tomorrow?” You murmur as you pull away from him, eyes glazed from the overwhelming emotions.

“Of course.” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering before giving you a curt nod. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

As he left, you watched his figure decrease in size until he was a speck leaving the graveyard. You sighed and made your way over to your father who was sitting on the plaid blanket waiting for you.

“How was your day?” He asked tentatively as you sat beside him, your hand extending out to place your bouquet next to Coriolanus’.

“Overwhelming.” You sigh and press your palms in your eyes, rubbing them. “Yours?”

“Just ready for it to be over.”

You sat quietly in front of your mother’s gravestone, wishing she was here to comfort the both of you. The rustling from the willow tree above kept you grounded as the scent of roses and lilacs filled your senses.

“How long have you been out here?” You look over at your father, noting his shaking hands and reddened face. “I know it’s still summer, but it’s getting colder—“

“Don’t worry about me.” He interrupted you and handed you a lighter for the candle. “Just tell your mama about your year.”

You lit the apple-scented candle and held onto the glass for comfort, staring into the burning orange and red. You messed with the ends of your black dress, eyes following the dancing flames before beginning your story.

“Hi, mama.” You murmured and sniffled softly, bringing a hand up to rub your eyes again. “This year was really rough… They made us mentor the District children in the games and I guess I got too attached to my tribute.” You paused, shutting your eyes for a second. “I graduated Academy, so I’ll be moving into University with Clemmie this semester… Uhm…”

You open your eyes to stare at your mother’s gravestone. It never occurred to you that whenever you were sitting in front of her you let all our defenses down and reverted back to that little girl who absolutely adored her parents.

“Daddy went all out for my birthday again this year. He had fireworks go off at the end of the party.” You laugh softly. “And of course, they were our favorite color. Coriolanus actually—“ You caught yourself and frowned at the mention of the blonde, fingers rubbing the glass. “Mama… You know the boy I told you I wanted to marry from years ago?”

You waited like she was going to answer back, eyes wandering over the engraved markings of Evelyn Lovett. “It didn’t end so well and… I guess what you said about fairy tales wasn't actually true.”

The breeze from the summer air brushed against your skin as you watched the flame burn out, making your frown deepen. You looked over at your father who was listening to you intently, handing him the candle and lighter.

“Did you talk to her yet?” You pluck the grass around you, staring tiredly at the plaid blanket.

“I did.” He sighed and gave you an understanding gaze. “You know the young Snow came to visit your mama, right?”

You nod, hand reaching up for your necklace that Coriolanus still had in his possession. “I spoke with him before he could leave.”

“Did he tell you what I said?”

You crease your brows and look over at him once more, “No… Was it important?”

He gave you a curt nod before handing you a letter from the woven basket. You carefully took the letter and peeled the Creed seal off, scanning its contents while your father continued speaking. Your eyes widened at each sentence, your hands tightening around the parchment in confusion, anger, and hope.

“Did you make another deal with Coriolanus about our relationship?” You ask as you cut your father off, voice barely above a whisper. “Just because the Creeds backed out of the engagement?”

“I…” Your father looked down at the blanket. “Yes.”

You rubbed your eyes again and crumpled up the paper, throwing it away. “Do you realize how many times my emotions have been toyed with in a span of one month? Do you know how much pain I’ve been through from just you and Coriolanus?”

“I thought you and Coriolanus—“

“Father, I’m trying.” You say desperately, trying to get him to understand you. “I’m trying to make amends with Coriolanus, I’m trying to gain his trust again. But all this? This just seems like going behind my back. Like I don’t matter to either one of you.”

The wind blew harsher on your skin as you received no response from your father. You scoffed and stood from your spot, smoothing out your dress before pressing a soft hand on your mother’s gravestone.

“I’m telling you right now,” You state to your father while looking down at your mother. “If you really want Coriolanus and I to stay together, don’t meddle with something that’s already broken. It’ll only break more.”

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[bloopitynoot]

What I Read This Week: 03/09/2025

I am a librarian, and unrelated to stereotypes about my profession, I do read a metric shit-ton in a week. Most of it is fanfiction but hey, I thought maybe it's time I share my reads?

This is what I read this week:

1 A Little Bit To The Left by miixz (86,570)

Summary: 【 A System error during execution bound you to Shi Yuan’s account instead of the intended Shen Qingqiu. We sincerely apologize.

You will be given the chance to climb from your current position of canon fodder as the story progresses and plot points become available to you. As Shi Yuan does not have an established character the OOC function is automatically unlocked, please accept this bonus as your compensation for the mistaken role.

Please ensure that no score falls below zero, or the System will automatically administer punishment.】

Intended role of Shen Qingqiu?! The fuck, were you trying to kill me? Why would anyone think transmigrating into that scum of all people would be helpful?

Alright, alright. Shi Yuan takes a deep breath. He can deal with this. So he’d transmigrated into the shitty novel he’d just finished, but at least he’d somehow avoided becoming the villain.

Or: Shen Yuan transmigrates into Proud Immortal Demon Way as a Bai Zhan Peak disciple.

what a good way to start my reads this week!

A disciple fic where there is a tiny age gap (2 years) between disciple shi yuan and binghe.

PEAK Shen Yuan obliviousness - like painful until the very end. This guy is so brilliant but has 0 awareness of what's going on with himself emotionally.

Sweetest of endings though so it's worth it.

2. Heaven Official's Blessing by MXTX Chapter 57-62

Summary: Born the crown prince of a prosperous kingdom, Xie Lian was renowned for his beauty, strength, and purity. His years of dedication and noble deeds allowed him to ascend to godhood. But those who rise, can also fall…and fall he does, cast from the Heavens again and again and banished to the mortal realm.

Eight hundred years after his mortal life, Xie Lian has ascended to godhood for the third time. Now only a lowly scrap collector, he is dispatched to wander the earthly realm to take on tasks appointed by the heavens to pay back debts and maintain his divinity. Aided by old friends and foes alike, and graced with the company of a mysterious young man with whom he feels an instant connection, Xie Lian must confront the horrors of his past in order to dispel the curse of his present.

I am on book 4! I'm reading about a chapter a day and live blogging the experience. you can follow along on the Bloopitynoot reads TGCF tag

NO SPOILERS PLS.

So far I am loving it!

3. how lovely the ruins by queen_gee (41,996)

Summary: When she screams, Jiang Yanli hopes she shakes the heavens. She hopes the gods tremble with the weight of her grief. She hopes her scream is loud enough to echo in the minds of these great men for years and years to come, haunted by the ghosts that will trail at her heels until the day she joins them in the afterlife.

When she screams, she hopes it rattles the mountains. She hopes the wind carries it to Qishan. She hopes Wen Ruohan shivers in the chill.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Jiang Yanli becomes Sect Leader after the fall of Lotus Pier. She learns to live with it.

Oh I fucking LOVE a BAMF Jiang Yanli.

This is everything. I can't remember who rec'd this one to me but I think- it was @futuretimelord-468 (if it was not so sorry, but thank you to whoever rec'd this!)

This was very much a character study and the Yanli POV journey was exquisite. 10's across the board.

4. Love in Another Shape by celardor (WIP: read chapters 15-16 this week)

Summary: After the events of the Immortal Alliance Conference, Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge find themselves suddenly dependent on one another for survival. In order to return to their beloved Shen Qingqiu, they’ll have to face down innumerable monsters, Luo Binghe’s unstable demonic powers, and their own tangled feelings.

Meanwhile, all Shen Qingqiu wants is to be left alone. Unfortunately, even with the System in hibernation he can’t seem to escape the demands of the plot. He finds himself tasked with sorting out the aftermath of the Conference, investigating a missing person case, and taking a trip to visit Liu Qingge’s family. Through it all, the narrative continues to deviate further and further from the original story Shen Qingqiu had read, ultimately leading to a discovery that could shed light on the past and bring long-buried secrets to the surface.

Part 2 in the Love in Another Shape series

bingliushen!!!!!! Okay but honestly this series is so good. There is drama, angst, romances, liu qingge's two moms are a delight

okay I am pretty sure I have read chapter 15 already, but really it's been a month or two so it's been good to reorient myself to the story.

5 In The Valley by charlesdk (52,979)

Summary:

“And last but not least, this is our beloved community center.” Lan Wangji took his gaze off Wei Ying to look at the building. It looked quite weatherworn, dilapidated—a little worse for wear. It was not in complete ruins or falling apart quite yet, though it was closer to being so than any other building they had passed by. It was clearly well loved, well used, but time and the mountain conditions had worn it down, its foundation likely not built right. The building was in dire need of a touch up and perhaps a renovation... or three.

A Stardew Valley inspired AU, in which Lan Wangji inherits his mother’s old home, but it takes years for him to return to it—and he only does when he is forced to. Yet, despite the many years without care, it looks the same. Unchanged, as if someone has been taking care of it after all.

Featuring grief, family struggles while learning to be your mother’s son, and falling gently in love.

my heart at this entire fic. It was honestly so good

I always love a solid trans story and trans LZ with his family dynamic made me both sad but also proud of our little guy choosing himself

excellent story, fantastic writing, and so so so warm.

6 says the shadow by tciddaemina (51,009)

Summary: Luo Binghe wakes up to the heavy, suffocating feeling that something is wrong.

His back aches, sleeping on the floor of the woodshed has left him stiff and sore, and yet all the pain and agony of his latest caning fades into inconsequentiality, washed away in the face of the sheer, suffocating, heavy dread pressing down on his shoulders. It steals the oxygen from the air, swelling to fill every inch of the room, the pressure crushing.

His eyes open too quickly, and he scrambles up, heart pounding in his throat, head snapping towards the door of the shed. There's a knot in his throat, thick, and he struggles to swallow around it, throat suddenly dry.

The woodshed looks as it always has. Nothing has changed.

Everything has changed.

-

Luo Binghe's shizun has a qi deviation and the thing left afterwards isn't Shen Qingqiu.

Okay so in this house we don't judge any reading. I 100% came here thinking it would be 50k of monsterfucking. Yes it does not disappoint, but it was only at the very end post abyss.

I was surprised how soft this fic was!!!! I cried real tears because of light angst. The author did an incredible job making me feel things.

Poor shen yuan transmigrating really poorly. It worked out in the end, but still what a struggle!

7 private room by ScarlettStorm (34,439)

summary: “What exactly did you want my feedback on?” Lan Zhan asks, bending one knee to cock a hip and putting an arch in his back. He laces his voice with just a hint of innuendo. Cobalt is never too excited about anything, so it wouldn’t do to seem too eager or too horny.

Gorgeous Newbie inhales, squaring his shoulders, and blurts, “Would you watch my stand-up routine and tell me if it needs anything?”

Lan Zhan blinks. The music is loud in here, like it is everywhere in the club. Surely he misheard. “What?”

“I have a stand-up routine,” Gorgeous Newbie repeats, more confidently this time. “I would really appreciate it if you could watch it and give me feedback.”

Or: What happens in the private room, stays in the private room... Until it doesn't.

THIS WAS SO GOOD.

I adore workplace au's and I especially LOVE when it is in the sex work or sex work adjacent industry. I am a sucker for Lan Zhan as a dancer- pole or otherwise and this fic had both!!!!

Wei Ying was so precious in this fic omg, 10/10 invited to the BBQ exquisite vibes and energy.

8 Helpless is the Heart by matsinko (37,783)

Summary: In the aftermath of book 3, Luo Binghe and Shen Qingqiu navigate the complexities of their relationship, learning to trust, heal, and build a future together.

This story is about the exploration of love, vulnerability, and what it means to truly belong to each other.

oh this was so soft. So much healing and discovery and care.

The trauma is real but so is the processing!

It was good- felt very character study-ish which I love.

the characters (SY/SQQ) felt a little bit ooc, but I didn't mind!

That's what I read this week!

I did read a few others but I decided against sharing them since they were a bit complicated. One of the fics stated it was complete but it just stopped part way through the plot, another seemed to be written by ai (or read like it), and another was messy plotwise so I bailed. I will never say a bad thing about a fic so I omitted those ones from the list!

As usual if you have any banger recs and feel like sharing I am always open and love getting them!! In addition if you want a personalized fic list I am offering lists for Wangxian (some other MDZS pairings) and bingqiu (and some other SVSSS pairings) -just send me a dm with your theme and criteria!

[egg-emperor]

I often regret getting personal here but I feel like I need to get this off my chest

I don't share my exact age for privacy and safety because all that matters is I'm an adult with the type of content I post, no identifying specifics needed. but a handful of people who hate me and have had it out for me and helped turn others against me who I barely know in comparison were actually friends with me when I was a minor from like 14-15 to 19 years old and were actually fully aware of my age at the time

yet they, a whole group of adults ranging from 10 to almost 20 years older on average when I was a late teen/early adult, had serious beef with me because I liked a fictional character in ways they didn't like by writing stories and having opinions they didn't like. and they teamed up against me to shame me and cast me out and turned people against me, a kid at the time. painting me to be some horrible monster of person to other adults

and looking back it's like god forbid a late teen/young adult isn't fully put together and might have a bit of an attitude in teenhood and early adulthood when it's a stressful time trying to figure life out. and you were still way behind the average and really still learning to be a person functionally and socially because of some fucked up stuff from your past, which they were also aware of. and in fact some used it against me/blamed me for what I went through after. making sure I could never fit in anywhere, not even online where I could finally begin to express myself

it's been years now so I'm older, smarter, and stronger than I was then but these people still have a violent hatred for me and turn all their friends that I only knew distantly against me too. and if someone else dislikes me for other reasons, they jump in to tell them more stories about how terrible of a person I am because they didn't like my attitude or stories back then and said I deserve to die alone for it and that I'm an abhorrent mentally unstable person

so if you ever befriend a fan/s and they suddenly have a lot of hatred to express against me, chances are they are part of or have been involved with these people. and they'll surely leave out the part that most were decades years older than me and were violently hateful towards a socially awkward teenage survivor with opinions and stories they didn't like and shared private details about me with people that weren't ever meant to know, to the point it was almost as traumatic as other bad shit I went through

I've been through a lot of fucked up shit online sadly because when I was a kid it was one of the only places I could be free and express myself but I was taken advantage of a lot because I used to be so eager to please people. but when I started to find myself and not be who they wanted me to be then they turned against me and punished me for it and tried to frame me as a nasty person so they could say they were in the right and the morally virtuous ones

and yet despite it all I have the courtesy to not name these people, as if they deserve the privacy of their usernames not being shared as if they weren't sharing much more private details about me with others when it was none of their business. as if they didn't make posts about me that got hundreds of notes on here, putting details about my name, age, location, and sexual interests on blast to people. yet somehow I'm still often known as the bad guy. funny how that all works out huh

anyway I think about all this much less than I used to but the way it does pop up from time to time and I still feel that tightness and sinking feeling in my chest or flashes of panic tell me it's stored itself as a part of my trauma. I work really hard to think more positively and not let all the bad things consume me and I think I've been doing really well but I'm not sure if it ever truly goes away, you just learn to better deal with it and keep moving forward

however I'm proud of my progress and I'm also grateful for the community I've built here and the real true friends I've made, who I feel I can be myself around. and I don't have to walk on eggshells or perform some impossible perfect ideal where I never make mistakes or have any flaws like I had to for so many years of my life. I can just be a person and be passionate and real and do what I love and everyone is really cool and nice and I know it's genuine

sorry for the massive personal ramble, definitely gonna delete it later but for some reason I always get super reflective of like my whole life whenever my birthday gets close lol

[novelmonger]

I am tired from doing basically nothing but chores all afternoon and frustrated with QuickBooks (which I'm trying out), so instead of working on anything else, I'm just going to gush about my new job because my family is probably tired of hearing about it but I wanna gush anyway :P

This could also be a good thing to keep around and look back on in the future sometime after the honeymoon phase wears off. Because right now I feel like I'm living my dream in almost every way (except that I'm not making much money, lol). So here are some reasons why:

I can have long, slow mornings. This became a much bigger deal than I ever thought it would. I'm a night owl, but I was never one of those people who would have to sit groggily on the edge of the bed for half an hour or set a dozen alarms. I would get up, I wouldn't like it, but I could make myself get up at the crack of dawn and immediately start moving towards being ready for the day and be functional. But some days in my old job...I was just dragging myself through the morning, and then get sleepy after lunch and start nodding off at my desk, and then right around the time I actually started feeling like I was getting into the groove, it would be time to go home. But when I'm working for myself, I can get up when my body's ready for it instead of getting yanked out of sleep by a blaring alarm and then immediately have to start doing things. And I can let my brain wake up slowly until I feel capable of getting stuff done, and then make up for it by working until 10 p.m. sometimes. (And I'm not even talking about waking up at noon or anything. I've mostly been waking up at 7 or so, but it makes a world of difference to do that because that's when your body's finished sleeping rather than just because your phone's making an annoying sound.)

I can take so many breaks. Like, I can work just as long as my focus can hold out...and then I can stop and do something else. Yeah yeah, I know they recommend you do that anyway, but when I would work in the office, even taking five minutes for a bathroom break and then making a cup of tea felt like I was slacking off. Stealing money from my employer. (Nobody talked like that to me; my supervisors would take breaks or chat with people when they walked past their cubicles; this is just me being silly.) But I'm not taking money away from anybody but me. And again, any time I take doing something other than work can just be made up later, and nobody but me needs to know! So if my brain just can't hold any more roofing insurance terms, I can go scrub the shower or read a chapter of my library book or refresh Tumblr yet again.

I was a little worried at first that I would be scrambling to get things done on time, that I'd have to cut back on spending time with friends or family, but so far that hasn't happened. I can take a couple hours off whenever someone else is free, and then get right back to my work.

This is super duper important, maybe the most important thing of all: I can do the work. For a solid month before I actually started looking for clients, I struggled with some of the worst impostor syndrome I've ever felt, like somehow even after all the work I'd put into my class, I would somehow fool a court reporter into sending me a transcript and then sit there with no idea how to proceed. But no! It's like...I don't know if anybody else was like this, but before I went to college, I was terrified of it, sure it would be impossibly difficult. But then I got there and started taking classes and realized that actually, it was more or less just a step up in difficulty from high school. Totally achievable. Some classes were even easier than high school! And in a similar way, tackling these real transcripts for real reporters who will pay me real money is like just one step up in difficulty from the practice stuff I did. And some of the things I did in practice were a lot more difficult and involved than anything I've had to do yet in the real job.

But no, actually, that's worth stressing again. This work is all stuff that I can do. And once I actually had someone going, "Here, do the thing," instead of me catastrophizing to myself, I can do all the things that are asked of me. In literally every job I've had prior to this, there's always been this thread of uncertainty in the back of my mind. What if someone in charge of me asks me to do something, assumes it will be no problem, and I'll have no idea how to do it? Even in jobs where I've gotten perfectly adequate training and supervisors welcome questions, I still had this irrational fear that one day, they would ask too much of me and I would fall short. But weirdly...even though in a way this job has much higher stakes - if I mess up, it could ruin my whole reputation, not just get me fired - I'm not worried about getting in over my head. Maybe it's because I'm older and more mature now? Maybe it's because of how much the class stressed the importance of not biting off more than you can chew and being really clear with communication. But yeah, I'm just a couple weeks in and I already feel so much more secure and at ease than I think I ever have before in a new job.

Oh, this is another factor in the previous point: I don't have to be around people XD I can be completely alone in my room all day long and not say a word to another soul except for mealtimes or whatever. That's something I discovered I really liked about working from home during the lockdowns - I just have so much more energy when I don't even have to look presentable or smile pleasantly to people I pass in the hall, even if I don't actually have to talk to anyone. And somehow, even though this job sometimes requires making a phone call with prospective clients...it's okay???? I've done two phone calls so far, and I was barely even nervous! Who am I and what have I done with myself? XD

Another thing that I didn't realize how important it was to me is that I actually feel like I'm being helpful, like my work is not only being appreciated but actually has some importance to it. You could make an argument that all of my previous jobs have been important, but for the past nine years I was stuck in a job where most of my day felt dominated by busywork. Occasionally there would be a mad rush to get stuff sent to attorneys and I would feel like a small cog in a big, important machine. If I didn't do my work, the trial couldn't go on! But for the most part, it didn't feel like anyone cared if I pointed out that a name was misspelled or there needed to be a comma. But as a scopist...that's my entire job! And the reporters are specifically looking for someone to do that! They care about the punctuation being right and the names being correct! They know the importance of the official record being very precise, and I'm helping them do that. I also get to help them by freeing up their time - one of my clients told me that she was looking for a scopist because she was regularly running on four hours of sleep trying to do it all herself.

So yeah. I don't know, I'm just rambling at this point. But I really do like what I'm doing. I want to bottle this feeling up and bring it out to look at it again in a year, five years, ten. Because I honestly think I'll still be doing this then ^_^

[devine-fem]

Damian lovers (and by extension of this ask,damijon lovers) don't explore the fact that Damian was extremely cultured for the majority of his life before coming to live with Bruce. Like that 10 yr old is experiencing culture shock!! Ofc he's gonna act out and disobey authority figures he doesn't even know

Yes he had rules and obligations as an Al ghul,but he traveled and saw so much of the world that most,if none of the robins never got a chance to see at their ages... Then he's expected to be by his Father's side in order to learn and grow.. NOT TO SAY HE HASN'T!!! but to be stuck in such a gloomy place like Gotham when he grew up in such a beautiful island surrounded by the very flora and flauna that the Al Ghuls strive to protect...

The damijon part is where Damian shows Jon how other parts other than the Western world work,showing him all the wonderful cultures and history he's seen throughout his life before him,before his father. How integral this is to his identity as an Al Ghul and now he wants his closest person to be able to experience it with him... Jon showed him how to adapt to western culture when they were kids and now Damian shows him what the world has always looked like to him,how hard it was to let go of his cultured past when coming to America

I don’t talk about the culture shock because I admit to not knowing a whole lot of how culture shock works to be honest. Like I know if I took me as I am now and dropped me into China I’d be extremely confused and lost as to how things functioned around me but to survive I’d have to pick up on it and Damian’s a smart kid I think it wouldn’t be too bad for him…?

I think Damian functions entirely differently from a normal person no matter where he is, lol, like what Damian al ghul has experienced and isn’t common for any child… ever… so is it culture shock as much as it is… constantly perpetual states of shock?

His whole character is him relearning everything. Or maybe, I am misinterpreting it? Is culture shock a bad thing? or is it just an interesting concept?

Is it a trauma?

I’ll take it as an interesting concept for now and just discuss the damijon part of it because that’s what I’m good at.

Do you realize that Jon has grown up on a farm his whole childhood? LOL. Do you realize that Jon Kent would be fascinated by an ice dispenser??

Could you imagine the awe and ooing he’d do going to Nanda Parbat? The Himalay? He’d be so out of it LMAO. Oh, that would make for such a cute interaction of Damian showing him around his culture and him knowing nothing, it’d also be so damn romantic.

Even then the aesthetic would be gorgeous, that’s why I love Damian Al ghul, imagine Damian Al Ghul taking his superman to his beautiful private chambers to indulge in romantics for a while? just so cute.

[superm4ks]

gentlequeers a short look into Johnny Herbert lmfao

This herb mf fascinastes me because he’s clearly besotted wid Verstappen on some old school level due to his driving and his general verstappen-ness but he can’t fucking get over that giant fucking chip on his shoulder that max 1) owes him nothing 2) isn’t British 3) prolly not particularly fond of him either.

Like every Max fan who heard about FIA giving max community service for swearing collectively turned to a camera like in fleabag to be like 😐 ‘Herbert was in that room’ it wasn’t even a meme it was just like. Of course he was .

And even in the statements he’s putting out defending that insane fucking decision hes still doing the usual Herbert ‘hot and cold’ shit wid Max like this is FROM his justification on the extreme nature of the punishment:

“That (swearing?) showed Max's rebellious streak. I love that side of him, it is what makes Max, his honest and outspoken character.”

This shit sends me out the stratosphere bro like he’s a FAN he a fan he fan he’s just fucking so British he can’t fucking function wid an shooter like Max that won’t ever put the Union Jack around his shoulders and tap dance for his side of the pond.

Same in Austria. Just an example . U go to Austria (hold my hand. Baby we must) where he was 1 of the stewards responsible for Max’s 10 second penalty in that contact against lando ((while coincidentally haha, not penalizing lando for going over track limits like 49 times before they had contact, then when he finally did he considered that time served post race and Lando never dealt wid those consequences during the race. Just wanted to . Say that 🫶🏽.)) but yeah this is was a penalty that was applied immediately without doubt and where the burden of responsibility regarding the crash was placed 100% on Max. About this decision Herbert said, freely, sober i assume, I swear I’m not making this up,

“That intimidation is something that Lewis [Hamilton], Michael Schumacher and Ayrton Senna have always done. When you come up against Max as he is driving today, there’s a point if you’re Lando that you have to say: ‘I am here. I am at your side. You are trying to squeeze me off the circuit. And I am not going to move.’

“Lando did the right thing. He did not move. He did not have to. Some people said he could have moved. But that is not how you beat Max or how you win the Grand Prix.”

So while the burden of contact falls 100% on Max and he MUST be punished for racing hard, Lando is doing the ‘right thing’ racing him hard to the point of contact and nearly taking them both out, because it means there was a chance of beating Max. Do you see how brazenly fucking biased that is? How one drivers hard racing must be stopped but another’s is to be celebrated and encouraged? I’ve talked Austria and the literal unhinged witch hunt that followed not just from fans but mclarens top bitches and the media in general at length before. And how it got so fucking bad drivers old, retired and very much active had to come out the woodwork like ayo y’all being weird now fr lmfao WTF is going on ((It was beautiful tho.))

I think Johnny .. like Nando once put it, kinda, paraphrasing 😭 became a cop because he cud not win a title. He was a good driver too, he won races, he’s one of the few loud voices in that room that has the credibility to back up his stewarding calls. But that doesn’t mean he’s objective, or even normal, when it comes to Max. In a sport that employs Ted kravitz and is proud of it Herbert might be the most deranged fucking person under contract rn. And as a max fan yk I have to respect the nerve . The commitment . But I’ll never respect the man, as f1 fan, not even as a max fan. And I think part of what’s pushed his decisions towards the extreme this past few years is that he knows that too. He knows , like the aftermath of Austria showed, like the whole circus in Singapore put on BLAST and made a fucking mockery of not just his lilly ass but the whole FIA, that Max doesn’t need or care for his approval. Max has his flowers. Herb just a cop wid a laminated card . And good for him yk. Keep fighting the good fight brother . Maybe you’ll get him one day

[coyote-kinz]

Warning for long vent:

Found my old YouTube from when I was like, ten. Take me back to being a dumb ten year old making Webkinz videos on YouTube that nobody watched...tossing my Webkinz around, playing in mud with my lps, making silly animations...just having fun without judgement. I wasn't worried about what people would think of me, I was just being myself.

That house in the videos got foreclosed on. I sold majority of the Webkinz in those videos. They'd be worth a FORTUNE now. I'll never get them back, I'll never get that account back. I feel like I unlocked memories that were trapped behind a wall of trauma...I wish things didn't change. I just want to go back. I literally don't function as an adult the way im supposed to. I just cant...I feel like I'm still that 10 year old but I'm trapped in a 24 year olds body. I just can't move past it. All I want to do is surround myself with nostalgia from my past. It was the happiest time of my life and I'll never get it back...all I do is attempt to relive it. Reliving the childhood I knew before it was shattered.

I never grew up. I feel like a fake adult. I try my best to act like an adult. I know I am one and I know my chronic illness and neurodivergency definitely play a role in my difficulty to do adult things like hold a job. But deep down all I want to do is be a kid again.

[nautiscarader]

Announcing my semi-retirement

This is a post I have been putting of writing for quite some time, and I make it with heavy heart... But first, tl;dr!

Most importantly, Don't Panic!

No, I'm not going anywhere.

I am also not deleting anything.

I simply don't want to give you false expectations about my activity here. I will keep writing, just at my (very) own pace.

Right, do we all have towels, and some refreshments of your choice?

Cool, let's dive right in - it will be over soon.

(oh and usual minor content warning regarding health stuff applies)

...what have I just said? I am not going anywhere! ...or at least not by my choice.

Yeah, in the past 10 months I have disappeared without a trace to the point that some of you thought I have snuffed it. 2.5 months, two weeks here or there, month and then another month out of nowhere...

The sad truth is that my illness, multiple sclerosis, is spreading, plus I have some other health issues that do need looking at occasionally. In fact, I might be going to some new clinic in September/October, but that's TBA.

As a result, I have become steadily more and more unreliable when it comes to delivering prompts, or even basic asks - and I cannot let that stay. Not to mention the length and quality of my works got hit by that - some of you have noticed that and pointed out/asked me about it in the most delicate way - and I thank you deeply for that.

me_irl

And I can already hear you...err...type: "We don't care! Take your time!" Guys, I have taken so much time that the Time Lords will soon be on my ass asking for it back with interest.

I... simply don't want to give you guys false hope and expectations.

I believe I heard it in Hank Green's cancer vlog that once such illness hits you, it "becomes your job". So think of it like that. Me having a really taxing job, often requiring my presence at inconvenient times.

Or maybe think of me going on holidays! To... hospitals...

So that is it, from now, I free myself from the shackles and obligations of prompts and writing weeks... though of course I have been falling out of rhythm for a loooong time, so... I think it is fair to say you are already used to it...

I will keep writing and publishing stuff... very occasionally, though. And I may one day just decide I am feeling strong enough for some quick round of prompts. In fact I will be updating some prompt hubs with old tumblr asks, so keep an eye on that.

Aaand of course I am not leaving you alone!

I can wholeheartedly recommend @fereality-indy, @animation-recaps-by-sean, @noblechaton, @billythsquid, @noblesnook, @thatguywiththefaceog and so many more writers here and on Ao3 - feel free to browse my bookmarks there!

Oh, and speaking of Ao3, don't forget it that it has excellent backup function! As for tumblr, there is tumblrThree, a program to back up any blog, if you are afraid of someone disappearing! You can download mine! it only weights...

...seventy-seven gigabytes, that is a lot of lolcats.

Anyway, that is it. Honestly, not much is going to change. I have been barely writing, and I will continue to do so - it's just I now have medical papers as an excuse.

Thanks to all of you for understanding and for your many messages of concern and support!

Oh, one more thing - H-Hotel!

Feel free to invite your own crazy crossover couples there and use this gif, I mean it, just credit and tag me.

...the only thing is, there is this huge boiler in the basement, and someone will need to check if it doesn't overheat. And since it runs on stardust, it would be bad for the multiverse if it exploded.

But I'm sure you will remember.

Anyway, see you later!

[idrellegames]

hi there! sorry if you've gotten a similar ask before. do you write wayfarer directly into twine or do you keep it in a separate doc? do you just have really clearly labeled sections in a word doc or something or is there a specific program you use to keep track of every story path? basically, with something as expansive and w/ as many routes as wayfarer, how do you keep all your writing organized?

I have answered this before, but I can't seem to find my posts on the subject (you may want to peruse my coding in twine tag, the masterpost has a bunch of different resources for this kind of thing!).

But in short, no, I do not write Wayfarer directly into Twine. This could functionally work for a very small game, but I would still advise against it as Twine doesn't really work as a word processor. You can't proof-read in it.

My process has three main steps:

Outlining

Writing

Coding

Compiling

Outside of my big beat chart (which spans the whole game), I break each episode down into their own outlines, and then break the routes of each episode down into their own outlines. Sometimes specific sections end up with their own outlines too. My system probably doesn't make much sense to anyone other than me, but as long as I know what the divisions are, then it's all good.

I write in MS Word. Each episode has its own folder (sometimes with subfolders) and every section of the game gets its own document.

Here's the main folders, each episode goes into its own thing.

This is an subfolder for Episode 1, specifically Route B.

Within my word documents themselves, I use a colour-coding system for separating out branches and sections. This is extremely useful for writing dialogue loops, like this:

I also add in any coding notes (variables, true/false states, stat checks) while I am writing so I know what I need to do when I sit down to code 4+ months later. I usually throw a X or XX on choices after I have written them as a note to myself that I have finished it (this is just personal shorthand - X means I've done the pass version of a check, XX means I've done the pass and fail states).

I use about 8-10 colours in my documents; I have a set of MS Word macros set up so I can easily switch between them.

I share my word documents with my editor via OneDrive, which makes it easy for her to got through and proofread.

I use MS Word because I've been using it to write since the 2000s and it's what I prefer to use. I have also been writing professionally for over a decade now, so I have systems and strategies in place that work for me that I've developed for myself over time. But if you're new to writing and you're looking for a word processor that can also help you with outlining and keeping your story straight, something like Scrivener may be helpful.

One the text is ready to be coded, it's a lot of copy/pasting from Word into Twine. When I'm coding I will typically be running multiple programs at once:

MS Word

MS Excel (for my variable sheets)

Twine

Notepad++ (which has some regularly used code stored in it; I also use it to edit CSS and Javascript, as well as any really code-heavy sections since it's easier to do that in Notepad++ than it is in the Twine editor)

Notepad (just the regular version - I use it for writing notes to myself while I'm coding)

a web browser to launch tests in as I code

Once I am done coding and I have tested things, it's time to compile. The Twine editor can only handle so many passages and text in one file (around 500-700 passages before you hit massive lag), so I break Wayfarer into multiple story files. Having multiple story files also makes it really easy for me to cross-reference events (if I need to grab a passage title to reference it later) because I don't have to look through one big file. If I know the event happens in Episode 2's first scene, then I know I need to open Chapter_2.1.

My Twine library looks like this at the moment:

I am using an old version of the editor (with an up-to-date version of SugarCube) since I didn't like the new one. I don't necessarily recommend using the Twine editor when you can easily make your game with Twee extensions in Visual Studio Code and have better support and functionality, but this is what I like and it really comes down to personal preference.

But because everything is in separate files, I have to merge them altogether. I have Tweego installed on my PC; it's run through the command prompt and outputs multiple story files into one HTML file. I've talked about this process here and here.

And that's basically it! I don't think there's a one-size-fits-all solution to keeping track of your IF. You need to figure out what works for you, based on your writing and outlining habits, how big your story is, and how much you intend to keep track of.

Hope this helps!

[smthngnhly]

What I was doing when the US was bombing Iran,

Like many Americans, I woke up around 9 this morning. Later than I usually did. Granted, I had the day off. I usually don't have Saturdays off. As a matter-of-fact, this was the first Saturday I've had off since April? I'm exhausted. Between the second-quarter at work, and the hustle-bustle of my personal life, I hadn't realized it. I felt it. But it wasn't something I had necessarily been keeping track of until I saw the schedule last weekend.

I rolled out of bed at 10:20, ordered myself and my sister Dunkin, and got dressed. Today, I wanted to visit the library to renew my card and get a new book. I picked up some romance/fantasy novel by some author I've never heard of, and headed into town to my favorite pottery shop. It is a tiny place in the old town, and it was so packed. I could tell the owner was a bit stressed from the influx of people.

I chose a house to paint. I painted it red and white to match my new Fourth of July decorations I got last month. I had not checked the news. I had not even looked at my phone other than to order Dunkin. That first hour I was awake I spent staring out my window and trying to find motivation for a simple sketch in my sketchbook. I didn't even see the irony, of course. I had no idea what was going on. Of course, I am aware of what is going on. It is the only topic of conversation I can have with my father these days. I did not suspect it. I am a liberal too, and I wasn't going to let the bastardization of what our nation has become get in the way of Independence Day.

Afterward we had lunch at Texas Roadhouse. I ate what seemed satisfying to me though I left behind a lot on my plate. Peanuts, rolls, and chunks of blooming onion had taken up a large portion of my meal. What did it matter? I don't have to eat like food is scarce anymore. I have a job. I can leave behind food and not take it home in a box with me.

I went home, let my cat out, and relaxed. Around six, my father called. He asked if we needed more cat food. I said yes. He said we're having low country boil for dinner. At seven he came home, the cat came back in, and he began to cook. Now, 13 minutes past 9pm, he announces something all together terrifying.

"Trump says US bombed three Iranian nuclear sites."

I think of my idiot brother. His 23rd birthday is right around the corner. He is fit. The doctor says his asthma has somehow gone away. He is the perfect height for an infantry man. He had once tried to run away to join the army. Then he had been overweight by ten pounds.

Now?

I think of my two year old nightmare. The house is pitch black. The power to my city has been cut. It is the middle of the night. I live in one of the largest operating port cities in the deep South. In town there was once a military base. In my nightmare, the north has been destroyed. The south remains, not wholly, but enough to function. My father is at a warehouse, his place of work for the last twenty years, and I cannot call him. Calling him would do nothing.

I hear airplanes, low and loud, hanging from the sky like owls. They swoop low dropping landmines and tanks and men.

There was no warning. No news story. No radio broadcast. This feels odd and out of the blue, but I know I cannot do anything about it.

I am on the floor of my room, using my bed as a shield. I cannot find my cat. I cannot find her. I cannot call for her. She is probably terrified, hiding somewhere in the dark. I pray she lives until tomorrow. I pray we all do.

There are foot soldiers, marching down my road shouting in a language I cannot understand. They have flashlights. They shine through the blinds, and illuminate figures. I freeze in my windowless hallway, praying my sister has taken refuge in a closet. I hug myself, suck in a deep breath, and begin to crawl toward her bedroom. I pray to God that the solider on my front porch cannot see me. I see her, frozen in the doorway, clutching her ears. The sounds outside are deafening. Gunshots ring out. I beg her to get down and crawl back with me to the hallway. She remains. I see a bright light shine through the dining room window, just feet away. I am like a deer caught alone on a country road. All I see is that white light.

My body jolted upright. I am taken out of my dream. My TV's pink screen saver scrolls endlessly on. It is quiet. There is no sound beyond my window. No light besides the neighbor's porch light and the street lamp above his home. There is no car driving by. No airbus or helicopter. Just silence.

I get up, sobbing and hyperventilating. My feet take me to my sister. It is four in the morning. I tell her about the fighter jets, the soldiers, the bombs. She reassures me it was probably just the sound of a neighbor leaving for work. I cry myself back to sleep, but I did not dream again.

Now, I am sure that this was not a dream. Rather an inkling. A vision. A premonition.

[adventuresinclientservice]

"I grow old... I grow old... I'll shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled."

This is deeply personal -- if you find it inappropriate, feel free to skip it -- but what follows was prompted, in part, by a story I read in The New York Times, “Where Have All My Deep Male Friendships Gone?”  In it the author admits,

“Eventually my loneliness started to eat into my confidence as a writer, and this made me even more reluctant to see my friends. How, I wondered, could they possibly relate to my boring creative problems? I thought about going to therapy, but I’d done plenty of that in the past, and I didn’t have the time, money or interest to go back. I was seriously struggling, and my writing came to a standstill. I started to see myself as an unemployed washout…”

About a month ago I awoke suddenly at 3:00 am, saying to myself:

“I have lost my sense of purpose, and I have no friends.”

I lie awake for two hours before falling back into troubled sleep.

That evening, I share what I’m going through with Roberta, who suggests I find a therapist with whom to speak, offering to research candidates.

Roberta quickly identified a therapist she thinks might be helpful.  I have sought such help twice before – the first when my second marriage imploded in anger and acrimony, the second when I had a crisis of confidence -- so I schedule the first of what has become the first of several conversations.

The conversations are clarifying, in that conversations always are helpful, especially the ones on loss-of-purpose.  I explain to the therapist I haven’t conducted a workshop since late last year.  As for speeches, my last one occurred more than 18 months ago, in Bucharest, at the International Advertising Association’s annual conference, held in the all-too-grand, palatial Romanian National Opera House, before a crowd of 1,000 people.  

A realist, even then I recognized that it might be my farewell time on stage.  If it was, it was a memorable way to say goodbye.

Mike Slosberg taught me something about maintaining purpose:   long after he retired from advertising, Mike continued to write novels.  I will follow his lead and do something similar:  absent workshops and speaking engagements, not one person contacts me to inquire or ask for a proposal -- I write a new book. 

It is called Why Client Service is an Art, a complement to my current book.  I now am writing the required proposal that, if all goes as planned, will confirm I still have an agent (it has been 10 years since he last represented me) who ideally will land a publisher.  Finding a publisher means a host of other activities that will keep me productive, a possible solution to the loss-of- purpose problem.

The matter of friendship is thornier.  I’m an introvert at heart, not by nature a joiner of groups; my few remaining friends from my younger days – Jerry Cooper, Judge Jane, Jodi Greenblatt, Rick Johnson, Jack Carey, my cousin Marsha, my sister-in-law Tracy – live on the opposite coast, many occupied by adult children.   Lunch or coffee just to talk isn’t an option.

I am “friendly” with scores of people, but if I’m honest, I know these are not close to being close friends.  I am not alone; according to a Survey Center study quoted in the Times story,

“17 percent of men have zero close friends, more than a fivefold increase since 1990.”

I feel better, but only just.  I then recall the words of a famous rock band, “I still have not found what I’m looking for.” (My pen pal Ken Ohlemeyer likely knows its provenance; for the rest of you, it’s U2.)

Some of my despair simply might be a function of age:  next year I will turn 75.   For many, it’s well past the time to retire.  I am not the retiring type.

Getting old sucks.  I remind myself of the alternative, feel better still, and vow to keep searching for an answer to having no close friends.  You are welcome to help, if you are so inclined.

[acidballz]

music is the most powerful thing ever (emotional rant ⚠️)

i’m very much going through it chat. i recently made the decision to go no contact with my mom, i am temporarily moved in with my partner and their parents and they gave us 6 months to find an apartment.

my mom and i have a very codependent relationship. i am diagnosed with BPD, and i am almost certain she is undiagnosed with the same thing. thus she is the woman i understand the most, i have dedicated most of my childhood to being as kind and understanding to her as possible despite the manipulation and cruelty, because i knew it came from a world of hurt and pain and trauma that i couldn’t even imagine going through. i love her and did my best to try and get her to see things in a different perspective, and to take care of her as much as i could, but i can hardly take care of myself. she relies on me emotionally as if i am her best friend or sometimes even a life partner. if i don’t do something right, or im not around enough, or i can’t drop everything to go out of my way for her in the very second she asks, she guilt trips so hard it guilts me into hating myself more and more every single time. she refuses to even acknowledge that i may ever want to part with her, and im 22 years old.

it’s been the hardest thing i’ve ever had to do, and the hardest parts aren’t even over. i haven’t talked to her yet, i haven’t gotten my things, all i have established is a safety net. im terrified, it feels like the weight of the world is on my shoulders. i felt so alone in this emotion, but i have a place to stay and save up. i’m so grateful to my partners parents for giving me this opportunity. they show me so much love and kindness, a tenderness i’ve never recieved except for from their kid. they raised a beautiful, and incredible person that i want to spend the rest of my life with. i wouldn’t have been able to do any of this without them.

my wonderful friends gave me advice and helped me get my mind off things for a while, they also offered to let me store a lot of my things and their place. i am losing my family, but i have my chosen family on my side and that is enough. when my partner and i were driving home, i put on this song by fall out boy. they have been my favorite band since i was 12, so 10 years now. their music has helped me through some of my worst moments. this song felt particularly close to home. i also had an edible so i was like, really feeling the lyrics and the tone of the song.

my partner and i aren’t the most functional adults, we’re both drop outs who are barely skating by, feeling like we’re just old kids that never grew up. this situation feels too real for both of us. we are the kids who didn’t make it. i’m not doing as well as my partner is, but i know they’re scared too. with my BPD mood swings (fun!) i have been constantly flip flopping between terrified and hopeless, and overtly excited and naive. it’s been really overwhelming, i feel like im half dead when my brain isn’t screaming at me.

with my mom, i have felt like i need to compare myself to everyone around me. i needed to be better than my siblings who didn’t make it, i needed to be better than my father who used drugs to hide from his past, i needed to be kinder to my mom because in my young eyes the world had wholly treated her unkindly, i needed to be the best kid. i needed to prove myself, and i crumbled under the weight of all of those expectations our relationship had forced me to take on. i listened to this song and closed my eyes, and i let myself feel the weight of everything i went through with her. it felt like it was going to crush me, but i let myself feel it anyways. i cried silently to not disturb my partner, not because i didn’t want them to see me cry, but because i wanted to feel entirely present and alone in that moment with myself only. i don’t take the time to do that, and i needed to.

when people say music saves lives, this is what they mean. the music itself doesn’t save people, but it inspires people to relate, to introspect, and most importantly to feel. music is powerful, and powerful music looks different to everyone. but to me, this song is more than just a song, it’s an inspiration for me to continue going. a reminder that no matter how much i feel like i didn’t make it, and that i deserve to feel guilty and suffer for not being perfect, im still here and im fighting for myself. i won’t let myself go back.