#i know his weed tolerance is crazy but i know its bad when it happens. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wwwafflewrites · 5 years

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Five Times Sherlock Shrugged Off John, and One Time He Couldn't

5. Danger

Once in a blue moon, a case would land on the outside of society, where Sherlock Holmes and John Watson would be left hiking through muddy hills and tripping over dampened sticks in search for their suspects.

While cases like this were rare, they were always unpleasant. John found that the icy wind would breathe through clothing, and that the path was never recognizable. Every tree was similar to the next. And while John couldn't navigate the forest, Sherlock definitely could. With his bizarre way of thinking, he could recall their location to the exact meter. So, of course, Sherlock wanted to split up.

"We'll cover more ground, John," Sherlock argued, eagerness bleeding into his tone. "It may even spare us a few hours!"

John pinched the bridge of his nose, "You're excluding the hours you'll spend making sense of where I've gone! That is, if you don't forget me and leave with the suspects."

Sherlock gaped his mouth slightly, seemingly insulted and, if John hadn't known any better, hurt. "I would not." His lips flap for a moment, words dying before he repeats: "John, I would not."

John's lips clip together. "It wouldn't be the first time."

Sherlock's expression was unamused, but determined. "John, as long as you stay on this path, you will be perfectly fine. My path diverges west, but I've studied the maps and calculated the distances. This is safe."

"This is bloody stupid. That's what this is. What if I run into them? Hm? Usually, I would call you, but there's no service within a hundred kilometers! How would you know if I found them or not?" John huffed.

Sherlock grinned. "That's why I've brought flares."

"You… oh God… Sherlock, no."

Sherlock revealed two red flares.

"You have got to be joking."

"I'm afraid not, John." He grinned at his clever stock. "They're quite small, yes? Fit right into your coat. Light, concealable, handy…"

"This isn't… this isn't a goddamn tampon commercial, Sherlock. This is a dangerous, bloody stupid plan, and you're handing me flares. Jesus Christ..." He glared at the detective for a moment, who was watching him with raised eyebrows, rendered silent. "Okay, okay. Fine. I'll take the path. If anything happens, you're going to start listening to me?"

"I swear."

"Swear on what?"

"...I swear… on… on my cigarettes."

"Damn right. Go on then. I don't want to be looking for a pair of wandering lunatics when the moon is up."

John was going to regret this. He could feel it in the marrow of his bones. That churning in his gut and the anxiety in his throat. The altogether ill-feeling in his stomach. This was going to be bad.

John found himself repeatedly checking his gun. Was it loaded? Yes.

Yes, it was loaded.

Or was he checking it wrong?

Yes, it was definitely loaded.

What if it jammed?

It was loaded.

On more check and he would go crazy. John sighed, stopping to look at the stars. Despite his wish to not let the case lead on into the night, he couldn't deny that the hours were ticking by. His feet were killing him, sore from maneuvering around low-hanging branches and thick weeds to stay on his tiring path.

Fortunately, his mind paused it's conflicting thoughts when he noticed something dark along a fallen log. Unfortunately, when he reached out to examine it, his fingers met warm, sticky blood. Warm. This… this…

Alarmed and alert, he heard a growl to his right, and he grabbed his gun. Just barely through the shadows, he caught flashing eyes and a victim rabbit, which had already been flayed and dismembered gruesomely. When the snarling animal approached John, and he pulled the trigger without hesitation. When nothing moved, he crept forward, squinting in the dark to identify the bloody shape. It was a… dog. While it could be mistaken for a wolf, it's coat patterns were sharp, like a German Shepard mix. It was a large one, with powerful jaws and wolf eyes. This was the sort of dog he'd expect to find with a police force. John pitied the dog, however, he was thankful he had trusted his instincts. Through the canines, reddened spit bubbled and foamed. Rabid. These people weren't messing around.

"Sherlock, you idiot," he muttered as he scrambled for his flare.

He hesitated. This would alert his location to not only Sherlock, but the others, as well. Hopefully the gunshot would be enough to inform Sherlock that something was very wrong.

When a branch snapped to his right, he held his breath, back pressed against a disfigured oak tree. These men were as blind as he was. Using it to his advantage, he evened out his breathing and fought his racing heart. He forced himself to think rationally, taking in their build and height like Sherlock would in this situation. One was thicker, sturdier, with a noticeable gut; while the other was taller, not as tall as Sherlock, with thin arms and bony knees. Shoot the larger man, he thought, you can take the skinny one. With his war face on, he zeroed in on one of the two figures, took aim, and fired.

Click. The gun jammed.

John fought ever urge to pull the trigger again and again as he panicked. Every nerve in his body screamed to do so. His hands were shaking and the trigger trembled, but he was still.

The two glanced around, paranoid. The larger one shouted far to the east, calling for backup. Dog howls erupted in the distance.

If Sherlock didn't hurry up, he was leaning toward the rabbit's fate.

Unexpectedly, a wash of red light sparked above the crown of trees, and John flinched as they popped and rattled, but they weren't fireworks; they sounded nothing like gunshots. It had come from farther up, but west some, showing how much farther Sherlock had trekked than John. Curse his short legs.

The group changed their direction, leaving John to investigate the outburst. John could hear more people though. More dogs, more men. It was more than they could take on. What had Sherlock been thinking?!

This was bad. So so bad.

Dying out in the woods. The adrenaline was fuzzy in his brain, rattling and nauseating. His breath was shallow as he struggled to breathe. Distantly, he recalled his therapist's infuriatingly calm explanation of a panic attack. He knew what a panic attack was; he was a doctor, for God's sake. She had warned him that his PTSD might spark up or latch onto a memory. He had denied her words.

What an idiot he was.

The soil in his hands was cold and moist, but dry enough to crumble. He was tense, wheezing into his arm to muffle his noises. His legs were jelly, and his hands trembled. He had to stand. He had to stand. There were flashlights now, waving over the ground, if they caught him-

The beam fell over his shivery form.

No, no, no, no, no…

"Oh, thank..." Sherlock's relieved voice cut into his panic. "John!"

John's lungs became less constricting and he sucked in a ragged breath. Sherlock was here. They were a team. They would solve this together.

He felt significantly safer knowing he had Sherlock's intelligence with him.

Sherlock grabbed at John's coat, sitting him up. His face was tightly scrunched, examining so intensely John thought he would break something.

John let out a jittery, breathy laugh. "You've lost your cigarettes, just so you're aware."

Sherlock's expression faintly softens, although still stressed. He fumbled through John's coat for the second flare as John rested against an uncomfortable tree trunk. "They're not important anyway," the detective responded, shrugging.

John's eyebrows rose. He knew Sherlock wouldn't be saying so a week later while the man paced back and forth within the apartment. That would be a headache of its own. But it was a tolerable headache.

"And you're not hurt?"

John took a second to reply. "I'll be okay."

It wasn't an answer, but Sherlock didn't push it. Both men knew could observe it himself.

Sherlock was fidgety, glancing at the darkness at every faraway bark or unintelligible shout of criminals. "The Scotland Yard is on its way. I told Gertrude to have his men report the flare. Regardless of whether we are safe or not, I organized it as a safety precaution. Very soon, there will be officers crossing our path. I… I apologize... for all of this. I'll understand if…" Sherlock trailed off, unable to force the words out.

John stared at him incredulously when deciphered what the detective was implying. "For a genius, you're an absolute idiot," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You're still my friend."

Sherlock didn't reply, but John could see the relief in his calculating eyes.

He checked his phone. "Well, you won't need to worry about working this case at night any longer," Sherlock said, genuinely smiling.

John froze. Was he getting service? What was he on about? He cautiously asked, "Why?"

"It's three a.m."

John's shoulders dropped, shaking as he laughed. "Oh my God."

Smile still playing along his face, Sherlock eyed the flare. "Can you hear that? It's the Yard."

They both stilled, tuning their ears. Sure enough, they watched the twinkling flashlights far in the distance. Their were a dozen police cars, parked with swirling reds and blues above them. Two ambulances were on scene as well, prepared for the worst.

"Looks like that's our ride," John said.

"It seems so."

#sherlock #sherlock holmes #sherlock fanfic #sherlock fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #john watson #5+1 things

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dragonwitch77 · 5 years

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Flowers

There were two things in this world that Snatcher could not stand.

Well, there were actually many things that he couldn’t stand. (Most being a certain young child in a hat.) But those were just things he could somewhat tolerate or just had to deal with. (Looking at you kid.) No, if he was being honest, which was rare since he wasn’t the most truthful guy around, there was only two things in this world which he would not stand or be willing to allow it to exist anywhere near him.

First being that when he wanted things to go his way, THEY WOULD GO HIS WAY.

Whatever he wanted, whatever he desired, whatever sick or twisted plan he wanted carried out, he would get his way no matter who else would want a say in it. It irked him when things didn’t go the way he wanted them to go or turned out differently than he planned. If he didn’t get his way in the very beginning or had unwilling trespassers trying to save their worthless skins, he could just pop off their pathetic little heads and toss the body somewhere.

Normally somewhere where the kid wouldn’t stumble upon them by accident.

The second was the most important.

By far. It was so important that every Minion, Dweller, Fire Spirit, Spider, and anyone else who cared to listen knew it was the up most importance that never, ever, no matter what, no matter the situation, no matter the cost, liability, event, mission, or whatever cosmic calamity that might ever happen, it was most certainly that he would never see, smell, touch, hear, or even get a single thought about—

“FLOWERS?!” The shadow screamed, jumping out of his chair and clinging to the ceiling of his tree home. “WHAT THE PECK?! WHY ARE THERE PECKING FLOWERS IN MY FOREST?!”

“Language!”

Snatcher turned his focus on the small being sitting on the floor, shooting a nasty glare at them. “Kid.” He hissed, his voice filled with venom while continuing to glare at the small alien sitting on the floor staring up at him. “WHAT. Are you DOING. In MY home. With… FLOWERS?!”

“I’m making a gift!” The small child smiled brightly, holding up her hands, completely oblivious to the danger in Snatcher’s tone. One hand held a pair of scissors while the other held a blue flower with a bow wrapped around its stem. In front of her sat a small vase filled with blue and red flowers mixed around in a chaotic child-made fashion that hurt the viewer’s eyesight looking at the horrid appeal.

In short.

It was very ugly.

“That doesn’t explain why you’re in MY HOME with those horrible things.” Snatcher grumbled, slowly inching his way down from the ceiling.

“Hey! They’re not horrible! Flowers are pretty! And they smell nice too!” Hat Kid huffed, accidentally cutting off too much of the flower’s stem while not looking. “… Oops.”

Snatcher rolled his eyes, sinking back into the comfy chair and picking up the book he had tossed in his surprise scare. “Kid if only you knew how much my life changed because of those… weeds. You wouldn’t be looking at them the same way ever again.”

The young alien stopped in her attempts to stick the steam back on the flower, turning her head to look at the ghostly forest ruler with her blue eyes.

Those big blue eyes that showed more maturity, boring deep into his own eyes with hidden knowing and knowledge he would have never guessed was in that little head of hers. How odd. She was only a little girl, yet he kept on being surprised on how such young being had such knowing in that little noggin of hers. What secrets did she know that he didn’t?

“You should take that mess out of here and work on it somewhere else.” Snatcher huffed, hiding his view of those accursed plants behind the large book. “The knowledge of knowing you have, ugh, FLOWERS is giving me a migraine.”

“Flowers can’t give you migraines! You’re a ghost!” The kid pointed out before looking confused. “… What’s a migraine?”

“It’s like a headache, only ten times worse.” Snatcher clarified. “It’s what you are to me all of the time.”

“HEY!”

Snatcher smirked behind his book. Oh yes. That little alien was a constant thorn in his side ever since she switched his own contract on him. Be my BFF. What rubbish! He wouldn’t even consider her more than an acquaintance! A very pestering, over bubbly, cheery acquaintance.

“Go on and get out of here kiddo. Before I lose my patience and burn your gift.” He raised an open hand, setting it alight with his fire. That got the perfect reaction out of the kid.

She gasped, throwing her body over her craft. “No!” She grabbed everything that she could and hightailed out of his home.

Once he was sure he couldn’t see her cape, he nodded proudly and returned to his book. Most would feel bad about threatening to almost destroy a young child’s gift, but he didn’t. If it was something involving FLOWERS of all things, then he felt no regret towards it.

After all.

Flowers were the main reason why he was like this in the first place…

His smirk fell off his face, sighing deeply.

“Meanie Snatcher! He didn’t have to do that!” Hat Kid huffed, kicking her foot out. “Such a meanie.”

“Who’s a meanie?”

Hat Kid nearly jumped as a voice spoke up next to her. Thankfully when she turned her head, she saw only a Minion walking beside her.

“Snatcher’s a meanie.” She puffed out her cheeks, hugging her makeshift gift close to her. “He tried to burn my gift for DJ Grooves! He’s so mean!”

“Yeah, Boss is like that sometimes.” The Minion nodded. “Never know what he’ll do one way before he turns the other way.”

“… What’s that supposed to mean?”

“No idea!” The Minion shrugged. “Just trying to sound smart I guess.” They looked at her gift. “Sssoo what are you making Newbie? Some kind of… flower monster?”

Hat Kid giggled a little. “No. It’s a flower vase!” She held out her gift. “I made the vase myself!”

The vase looked more like a tomato and carrot squashed together. One side of it was drooping so low, that most of the flowers Hat Kid had put inside were falling out of it. DJ Grooves face, or what the Minion guessed looked like, were painted on all sides of the vase.

“Wow! That looks… nice!” The Minion held a thumbs up, hoping that the young alien didn’t see them cringe.

“Thanks! One of Grooves penguin fans told me that his birthday was coming up soon, so I wanted to make him something special!” Hat Kid beamed with pride, holding up her gift. “It’s not done yet though. I still need some more flowers and then it’ll be done!”

“Well, there’s plenty of flowers on the ground.” The Minion pointed to the ground where small little white flowers were growing out. “Maybe you could pick some of those?”

Hat Kid stared at the flowers a moment before frowning and shook her head. “No. Those are too ordinary. It needs to be a special flower! A really rare and pretty one!”

The Minion blinked. “… Rare and pretty.” They looked on ahead. “Rare and pretty. Rare and pretty. Rare and-AH HA! I know where a flower like that is!”

“You do?”

“Yeah! It’s this way!” The Minion grabbed her arm, tugging her along as they went on their way to find the flower.

It wasn’t that long of a walk as they soon came to the broken bridge. The cold wind blew against Hat kid’s face, making her shiver a bit.

“It’s over here!” The Minion let her go, waving her over to the edge beside the bridge next to the broke headless statue. She was a little wary to get close to the statue, as experience had taught her not to trust anything in this forest, but made her way forward.

Peering down over the edge, she tried not to look down into the pit. She wasn’t scared of heights, she jumped out of her spaceship on a daily bases. It was the eyes. Hundreds of glowing blinking, staring eyes looking back at her that made her feel nervous.

“Right there! See Newbie!” She turned her eyes on where the Minion was pointing and—

“WOW!” She gasped when she saw the most beautiful flower she had ever seen sticking out of the wall of dirt. “What type of flower is it?”

“I don’t know. But it’s really weird looking. Will that do Newbie?”

“Yes!” She handed the vase to the Minion. “Here, hold this for a moment.” She got down to the ground, easing over the edge and started to crawl down the sloop.

The Minion looked at the vase questionably. “Uhh, Newbie? What are you doing?”

“I’m gonna get the flower!”

“WHAT?! Are you crazy! You’ll fall!”

“Not if stay on the vine.” Hat Kid pointed out as she slid on to a thick purple vine. It was kind of like the vine that wrapped around Snatcher’s home, only thinner and had more spikes on it. Really spiky. Hat Kid flinched in pain as her hand touched one of the spikes and quickly withdrew it. The spikes were covered in long needle like pins.

“Newbie, I really don’t think the Boss would like it if you fell down there!” The Minion cried out as Hat Kid inched along the vine to get closer to the flower.

“I’ll be fine!” Hat Kid was nearly there, reaching out a hand to the flower. Only problem was that the flower was still out of reach, and the vine didn’t reach far enough.

“Newbie please! Come back! The Boss will have a fit if he finds out you got hurt so close to HER place!”

“I doubt it!” Hat Kid shot back, sticking her tongue out as she tried making a grab for the flower. It was just barely out of her reach. Groaning a bit, she tried standing on the tips of her toes, reaching out as far as she could…

And nearly slipped off the vine.

“NEWBIE!” The Minion screamed with terror.

Luckily Hat Kid managed to lean her body away just in time, falling against one of the vine’s spikes for support. She hissed as she managed to righten herself and get back to the more solid part of the vine, pulling her hands away from the spike and cover them under her arms.

“Newbie! Newbie are you okay?!” The Minion called out.

She turned her head and nodded, making a weak smile. Looking away, she took her hands out a winced at the sight of her hands. Her hands were cut and scraped, deep enough that blood was seeping out and dripping down.

“ARE YOU BLEEDING?!”

Hat Kid jumped. She was sure the Minion couldn’t see her wounded hands with her back on them. “No! I’m fine!”

“No you’re not!” The Minion shot back. “I can see blood dripping off your hands Newbie!”

“It’s not blood! It’s… strawberry juice?”

“Newbie get back here!”

“Not without the flower!” Hat Kid adjusted her hat, wincing as her fingers burned with pain, and tried reaching for the flower again. Finally, fed up with this, she made a jump for the flower.

“NEWBIIIIE!”

Hat Kid grabbed the flower, smiling with triumph before suddenly realizing that she was free falling. She didn’t have time to scream or think up of a plan to save herself before there was a tug on her cape and she was suddenly yanked up.

Instinctively, she grabbed her hat so it wouldn’t fly away. But in doing so lost her hold on the flower. She watched as it fell into the dark mist of eyes down below before she was lifted up to a very familiar, and angry, glowing face.

“Uh… eheh heh. Hi BF…” Hat Kid chuckled nervously as Snatcher continued to glare at her.

“Kid. You’re in BIG trouble young lady.”

As Snatcher was busy dealing with the troublesome child who almost got herself killed, no one paid any mind to the flower Hat Kid had tried so hard to get fall deep into the mist of the pit.

Down, down, down, down it fell. Falling past several glowing eyes that did nothing as the plant fell past them. Plenty of stuff fell into the chasm for generations, and what need would eyes need of any of them if they had no limbs or form to hold and grab the items that fell?

So the flower continued to fall down deep into the endless chasm. Seemingly destined to fall forever.

Or not.

It landed on a thicket of roots and vines, narrowly missing the sharp projection that stuck out in numerous clusters all over. Now the flower only laid there, unmoving. Its stem, covered with the child’s crimson blood, dripped down on the roots and vines of the thicket, traveling further on where the flower had stopped.

It stayed like that for a few minutes.

Then…

It started to glow.

#a hat in time #ahit #ahit fanfic #snatcher #hat kid #minion #snatcher minion

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pjdredful · 5 years

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The AV Club

Chapter 1

"You know Evie, you've been coming to me for three months now. In that three months you've only spoken once. Just once to ask for water." Tony leans back in his comfy chair and taps his notebook with the end of his pen. I shrug lightly at it and continue playing with the frayed patch at the knee of my jeans. He gives a soft sigh and nods mostly to himself, I think, rather than to me. "I know you resent these meetings but the fastest way to get them over with is to actually participate." I give him a blank look and roll my eyes. Tony is my therapist, or he would be if I actually spoke to him but I don't because I don't need a therapist. I'm not crazy. I let him sit in silence a little longer before I check my watch. We still have fifteen minutes but sometimes when I look bored he lets me go early. I think he's almost going to let me go when he switches it up on me. "Your mother said you're having nightmares again."

"Step-mother." His brow goes up slightly but he only nods in acknowledgement or acceptance or whatever.

"She says they're coming almost every night now. That must be frustrating for you." For a second I consider making a smart remark but my mother, my real one, always said if you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all. Which is why I'm quiet about 85 percent of the time. It's not like anyone would believe anything I said anyway so I usually just skip over communicating entirely. "When I was about your age I had some pretty weird dreams too. I'd wake up in a cold sweat, confused, scared, and angry all rolled into one. The worst part was, I didn't think anyone would understand because I wasn't entirely sure I understood."

Ten minutes to go. I flick my eyes toward him and try to keep from looking as bored as I feel. So what if he had nightmares? I'm pretty sure they weren't scenes of the end of the world and everyone he ever loved dying in a violently bloody demon apocalypse. The truth is when I say it like that I can't really blame Jo-lynn for thinking I'm a whack job and forcing me to complete my legally mandated therapy sessions. You wake the house screaming about the end of the world enough times it's bound to make even the most rational of people look like a maniac. Tony gives it a beat and looks at the clock over my shoulder before giving a resigned nod. "Okay well its a few minutes early but I can see you're still not ready to talk." He closes his blank notebook and rests it on the edge of the coffee table very deliberately. He's not the first therapist I've been dragged to over the years, and even though I don't talk to him, he's actually kind of the best. The most patient for sure but even patient people have limits. He offers me a slightly tired smile and clasps his hands between his knees lightly. "I get that you don't want to talk to me because I'm the person your step-mom picked. I get that you think this is all a bullshit waste of time and I'm an idiot, and I might be. But I'm here if you do want to talk about what's on your mind."

A bullshit waste of time. I couldn't have said it better myself and I can't help but chuckle a little. He smiles back at me probably thinking we've made some progress here. Maybe we have. I've smiled even less than I've spoken. "You're not an idiot." He gives me a slight nod and I continue. "But this is totally a bullshit waste of time. I'd say sorry about it but you still get paid, talking or not, right?"

He leans back in his chair again and rests his chin on his fist. "Well we're talking now, so I guess I'm earning my pay."

Hm. He has a point. I roll my eyes at him but I'm not really bothered. "Time's up, Doc. Good talk though."

Tony stands and opens the door to the hallway out of his office. "You know I'm not a doctor right?"

I'm almost all the way through the door when I snort. "You know I'm not a psycho right?"

"Evie…." I wave it off because psycho is one of those no no words now. "Now wait." He puts a hand out, not really touching me but letting me know he wants me to listen. "No one thinks you're a psycho. No one thinks you're crazy or out of control or anything like that.” God. His face is so earnest.

I give him a look and wait a beat. “Well I dunno the judge at my hearing seemed to think I’m very out of control.” That was all just a misunderstanding. Honestly. I’m not on drugs! Okay. Well. At the very least I wasn’t on drugs when I got arrested.

Tony just grins at me and nods his head a little as if accepting that yes obviously someone thought I was nuts. His quiet chuckle fades and he shrugs a tweed covered shoulder. “Your mom just thinks you need someone to talk to about the things you feel."

He almost freaking had me. Almost. "Step-mom." It's too late to fix and he knows it so I wink and slip my earbuds in as I stroll down the hall out to the waiting room. Sandra the receptionist waves to me as I slide out the patient exit door and head for the bus stop. I skip through my mp3 player until I reach my favorite song by The Decemberists. Los Angeles I'm Yours plays just loudly enough to drown out the sounds of most traffic as I sit at the bus stop waiting for the number 18. I'm not thrilled about having to see Tony twice a week but the truth is today is the closest I've come to wanting to talk about it. The nightmares, the demons, the monsters, the devil, and my AP biology midterm. All of the horrible things that keep me up at night. I'm so deep in thought that for a second I don't realize that a shit brown 1988 Ford Taurus is idling roughly at the curb where the bus stops.

My bestfriend Nat pokes his head out of the passenger window and whistles to get my attention. "Yo…crazy face! Get in!" I shake my head with a laugh and run to the car, hurrying to beat the bus just pulling in with a nasty honk at Nat and his brother. I fling myself in to the back seat, squishing into a warm, soft body with a slight blush.

"Hey Lirae." She gives me a smirking smile because it's pretty much the only kind she knows how to give. I pull my seatbelt around and fumble for a second looking for the part to click into before I realize that Lirae is sitting on it. And still watching me with that serene calm that lets me know that she's purposely sitting on the seatbelt thing.

"Problem?" I fidget a little before letting go of the seatbelt altogether. Forget it. I'd rather be flung to my death through the windshield. I can feel my face burning as she chuckles and bumps my shoulder with hers. Lirae’s usually on but currently off again boy toy makes an annoyed tsking sound and a really nasty beer burp. She turns her head to give him a disgusted look. "Gross Orson. You kiss your mother with that mouth?"

"No. I kiss yours." She elbows him in the gut hard enough to make him choke out a breath before she reaches across my body to pull my seatbelt back over. I go still as a frightened mouse and try not to think about how close we all are in this tiny rusting deathtrap and how warm Lirae's hands are at my hip as she buckles me in.

"Can't have our girl getting hurt can we?" Uhhh. My brain has momentarily stopped functioning at the softly whispered comment. Orson is watching her very closely and I know that he's going to make my life miserable. He's the one friend of my super small circle that isn't really a friend. More like a tolerable associate. I wouldn't talk to him at all if it weren't for Lirae bringing him to the AV Club. Once he was in he kind of just took root. Like a really annoying weed.

"So what's the diagnosis? Is Evil Evie still cray cray?" There it is. I roll my eyes and don't even bother to hide the smile when Lirae elbows him again. "What? The kid is a train wreck, we all know that already."

Nat turns around in his seat as much as he can and nods at me. "Don't listen to dickwad there. He's just in a bad mood because Coach chewed him a new asshole at practice." I'm not that girl you know? The cheerleading, team sport loving, school spirit having All American Girl. That's just not me. For one thing I'm not even sure how football works. And for another I'd much rather date the prom queen than the prom king. Plus there's that whole thing where the weird paranormal shit that only happens in movies and TV seems to always happen to me. I don't mean to imply that I'm a cosmic joke and a walking magnet for the weird and terrifying. I mean to outright state fact. I am a living, breathing, magic and mayhem magnet. All that scary hoodoo crap you think can't be real? It is.

So no. I'm not the girl that hangs with the pep squad or the popular kids. Orson however, well. He's the top jock and he acts like it too. I smile at Nat and shrug. "Like water off a duck's back." Nat chucks me under the chin playfully and turns back in his seat as we cruise along toward the clubhouse. See? Tony shouldn't feel bad, I don't talk even to my friends. "What are you guys doing here anyway? I thought we were meeting at the clubhouse at seven." It's not quite six yet but any change of plan that keeps me off the public busses is okay by me.

Mo looks at me through the rearview mirror and shrugs. "We were at The Harbor." My brows come up a little at that. The Harbor isn't a place for boats and beaches in our town. The Harbor is a very seedy bar where you can acquire just about anything if you have the money and don't sweat the small details. Like, where said purchased thing came from, or even knowing the name of the person you bought it from. Needless to say The Harbor is the last place a bunch of teenagers should be. And yet…we know it well. At least I know it well. Well enough to get arrested for being underage in a bar I had no business being in. My punishment? Mandatory rehabilitative counseling. I wasn't there to drink but when I told the undercover officer that detained me that I was there to see a man about a stone he just assumed I actually said I was there to see a man about getting stoned. Like I said. Misunderstanding.

"Any news?" I try hard to keep the hopeful note out of my voice. Everyone in this car knows my deal. Average dorky high school student by day, metaphysical super magnet by night. Well. That part is really a 24 hour deal but since most of the paranormal crap is powered by moonlight I get a reprieve. Just in time for those oh so thrilling biology classes. This weird dark attraction has been my curse since my eleventh birthday and there hasn't been a damn thing I can do about it. In short I'm just like Mo and Nat, Orson and Lirae. Well. Possibly not exactly like Lirae. I'm not sure there's anyone quite like her. But what I mean is that I'm just as normal as the next geek. I can't see or hear anything different than any other human, all I can do is 'sense' the darkness. It's more of a gut instinct which is so much more difficult to explain to a rational human being. Hey a demon thing is in town. Oh how do I know? Because I can feel it. What does it look like? Well I'm not sure really since I only ever see things like that in my horrible puke inducing nightmares. Yeah. This is my life.

I watch Mo's lips curl in a slight smile even though he doesn't say anything. I'm hoping that means good news for me and bad news for my nightmares. He pulls off the main road taking a little used dirt switchback track. Orson, Lirae and I bounce around in the back like sacks of laundry, grabbing on to any surface that will keep us stationary as the car rolls over the rutted and uneven path. Mo banks a curve that throws Lirae's body in to mine hard enough to make my head smack the window. I'd grumble but I'm too terrified to move because I'm pretty sure there is a boob on my arm. Lirae rights herself by pushing off my knee with a grunt and I breathe. I can feel the heat of her hand still on my knee right through my jeans. Probably it’s the closest I’ll get to being groped by another human being again in my life. I make sure to avert my gaze toward the window to hide the creeping red flush up my face. Maybe if I don’t move, she won’t either. As the car skids to a stop in front of the dilapidated shack we call a clubhouse I curse my ineptitude in all things romantic.

"Hey Mo, grab the equipment while me and Orson get the cooler out of the trunk." I look up at Nat's tall, broad shouldered back as I extricate myself from the backseat of the car. He turns his curly blonde head to catch me giving him the curious side eye and smiles innocently. Well if I wasn't suspicious of him needing 'help' with the cooler before, that too casual innocent look certainly seals the deal now. I open my mouth to ask why he needs help but Nat cuts me off "Hey you and Lirae kick on the generator. I think there's still a full gas can in the shed." Okay he's being weird. I stand there a little confused when Lirae rests an elbow on my shoulder to watch the boys wrestle the extra-large camp cooler out of the trunk of the car.

"He's being weird, right?" My thoughts exactly. I glance at her with a grin and shake my head.

"When isn't he? C'mon it's getting dark already." I really don't like being outside of the clubhouse when it's dark out. Not because of monsters and ghosts but because there be wildlife in them there hills. What? Raccoons are terrifying! Lirae follows me but not before reaching out quick little hands to tickle my ribs.

"Watch out! The raccoons will get you." Asshole. I slap at her hands and squirm away with a little squeak of protest. I'm a little more glad for the dimness of dusk than I was a few minutes ago because at least it hides my blush as she laughs at my responses.

"Laugh all you want but probably you're the one they'll eat first when the Critterpocalypse comes." I pull out my phone to use as a flashlight when I duck under the low door frame of the shed. It used to be a child's playhouse sitting a few feet away from the main shack so it's a little cramped with the generator and two people. As usual if it could happen, it does, and always to me. I make a small disgusted sound and try to wipe the cobwebs from the side of my face. Fantastic. "Ugh. Gross. Here, hold this will ya?"

Lirae takes the phone from my hand and directs it at the generator for me. I take a tick to check the fuel gauge just to make sure before I yank the ripcord a few times to turn the motor on. It sputters to life with a roar and the sound of music floats back to us on the warm breeze. I can just see Lirae's full lipped mouth curve into a smile in the dim light from my phone. "You're a mess."

I stand still as she steps in closer to pick the thick gauzy web out of my hair. "Thanks." I clear my throat, suddenly a little unsure and super uncomfortable. Maybe it's the gas fumes. They're making me feel all fuzzy headed and belly floppy like I just got off a rollercoaster. Or maybe it's just being this close to Lirae, alone, in the dark. She pulls the last web away and we're just standing face to face. Her hazel eyes look black in the shadow and suddenly much closer than they were a second ago. So close I can see her heavy lashes fall closed as we lean in closer for a kiss. The second, the absolute second, I close my eyes finally deciding to do something, anything, Orson's voice breaks the silence and causes me to jerk back.

"Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer the phone. Hey fucker, answer th…" I glare at my phone in indignation. That little shit changed my ringtone for his number! Lirae sighs and tips her head back with an unhappy laugh and answers it. I'm too embarrassed to realize at first that she hadn't moved an inch at the sound of his voice.

"What?" It's clipped and to my ears a little frustrated but that could be hopeful thinking on my part.

"Hurry your sweet ass up the beer is getting warm." The beer is in no way getting warm. It’s just that Orson is a dick.

Lirae ends the call and hands me back my phone with a slightly annoyed look. "Hm. Saved by the bell." I want to comment but I don't have anything really to say. Other than sorry. Which judging by the look on her face is not the appropriate response. When I can't come up with anything helpful she lets out another sigh and leaves me standing in the dark of the shed. All by my lonesome. Great.

By the time I make my way in to the clubhouse everyone is settled on the mismatched furniture we've managed to squirrel away here. I take a beer and my usual seat in the bright yellow bean bag chair that Orson's little brother meant to throw out. There's a rip in the seam at the back. Not enough to spew little balls of polystyrene filler but enough to make it sound rude every time I sit in it. Everyone snickers a little and I roll my eyes. "So. What happened at The Harbor?"

I glance at each of them but they all turn their attention to Mo. Despite being brothers Nat and Mo don't really look alike. Aside from the curly hair they're as different as two people could be. Mo is built more like a swimmer, sinewy and thin, his shoulders slump a little from years spent in front of a computer screen. Heavy lidded dark eyes spark with anticipation and I'm immediately caught in the expectancy of the moment. "I got a call from Manny while you were at your appointment. Warrow is back."

Warrow. Oh man I hate that smelly guy. He has a bad habit of trying to grab my ass every time I have to talk to him. "Where was he this time?"

Not that it matters much. Like I said. Don't sweat the details and everything is okie dokie. "Nepal. And he brought you this." Mo holds up a blackened stone with what looks like patches of rust colored mud caked to it. "He said and I quote 'To chase 'way night horrors so that me sweet lassie c'n dream of my…"

"Okay gross I don't even need to hear the rest." I reach out a hand and take the stone. It's warm in my hand and a little heavier than I thought it would be. It smells like dust and something earthier that I can't identify. Up close it looks like a turd but if it's a magic turd I guess that's okay.

"So what do you think? Is it the real deal?" It's hard to say so I shrug at Nat, still eying my magic turd rock.

"I dunno but we'll see what happens tonight." I tuck it away in my pocket before finally cracking open my beer to sip at it. I'm not a big drinker but I need something to do right now to keep my focus from drifting back to what almost happened in the shed. "How much did he ask for it? Was it a lot?"

Everyone goes quiet except Orson. He chuckles and stretches his muscular dark skinned arms over his head. "He didn't want money." I look at Nat and Mo who are suddenly and very determinedly looking everywhere but me. That only leaves one person who will tell me what's going on. I look at Lirae and even she looks a little uncomfortable as she plays with her own fingers. Why do I feel like I’m going to hate whatever is going to come out of her mouth?

"You owe him a future favor of his choosing." Yup. I hate it. Oh God. Knowing Warrow this future favor may involve nudity, lewd and illegal acts, drugs and or alcohol and dark magics. Not necessarily in that order or combination. My horrified expression makes Orson's chuckle turn in to a barely choked back guffaw. "Don't freak! We totally specified nothing sexual or illegal. Promise."

I must still look a little freaked out because she moves off the floral patterned loveseat she was sharing with Orson to sit on the floor next to my chair. Somehow this makes it all mostly better. "Well, I guess if this works it will be worth it. I don't know how much more Jo-lynn can stand." Lirae reaches up to tug one of my braided pigtails playfully and I guess that means she's done being irritated with me.

"So what's the plan Evil Evie? We looking for boogiemen tonight or what?" More like or what. While terrifying and more than a little gross and overly graphic, my nightmares haven't been anything really solid. Just images of what could happen. I haven't been getting the 'feeling' that something wicked has wandered in to our town. Or if it has it's doing an amazing job of hiding itself. I shrug a little and shake my head.

"I don't know. Aside from the dreams it's been pretty quiet. After the poltergeist last month it's like everything has just…gone away." Normal people would look upon this with relief and possibly hope for a better tomorrow. I look at the silence with dread bordering on hysterical anxiety. Evil for lack of a better term, doesn't die, doesn't get tired, and most certainly doesn't forget. The last six years have proved that time and time again to me. Everyone looks disappointed but no one seems to share my apprehension.

"More time to drink!" Orson high fives Nat as they simultaneously chug their beers. My night has definitely taken a down turn.

#my writing #the av club story dredful tales

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multiple-fandomimagines · 7 years

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Steve Harrington Masterlist *updated 2/15/21*

NONE OF THESE ARE MINE!!! I did NOT write any of these! I believe they are amazing fanfics, written by insanely talented people, and deserve to be shared. ALL CREDIT GOES TO THE AUTHORS!!!

Steve x Billy

Bad by flippyspoon (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington)(Billy Hargrove & Eleven)(Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield) Billy hates the cold but he takes walks in the snowy woods anyway. Never know who you’ll meet there.

Pain, Will You Return It? by shocked_into_shame (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) When Billy gets beaten to a literal pulp by his dad, the police get involved. Billy has to come to terms with what he has done to those around him. He doesn’t want to be like his dad. Especially when he sees Steve Harrington. When he sees Steve, he wants to be good.

Marquee Moons by flippyspoon (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) Billy helps out with some demodog bustin’.

Runaway by ohmbgosh (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington)(Billy Hargrove & Jim Hopper)(Billy Hargrove & Eleven) Jim Hopper just wants to find a Christmas present for his telepathic daughter. He didn’t ask for all these extra teenagers in his home.

Holiday’s at the Henderson’s by ohmbgosh (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) For some reason Steve really wants Dustin to get along with Billy. Since it’s almost Christmas, Dustin reluctantly gives it a shot.

To Build a Home by inkyreveries (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) In which Neil Hargrove dies and Billy and Steve go back to Hawkins.

Saint Anger by maikurosaki (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) Hopper sighed and scratched his beard. “Look, kid, the reason why I'm offering you a second chance is because you need it. You don't deserve it, but you need it. So I got your back.” Or how, on his harrowing road to redemption (because second chances don't come easy), Billy Hargrove loses a good-for-nothing father, but gains a tough little sister, a giant older brother, a preppy boyfriend, and an obnoxious pack of nerds, not necessarily in this particular order.

Angels Come To Us Disguised by AuthorsBane (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington)(Protective Parent Jim Hopper) It's a quiet night in Hawkins. That is, until Chief Hopper receives news he would have been able to live without. What follows is the worst night on call he can imagine once Billy Hargrove and Steve Harrington get involved.

"It's like the Body Snatchers!" by ChangeTheCircumstances (Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield)(Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) Max wonders if her life will ever be normal again, if anything can be normal in a place like Hawkins. She doubts it but there's at least one thing she's sure of: the last person to ever realize what's really going on in this crazy place will be Billy. No way would anything supernatural ever happen to him.

Don't Tell Me There's No Hope At All/ Together We Stand, Divided We Fall by Straight_Outta_Hobbiton (Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield)(Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) Billy's used to being afraid of his father, and he knows he's not the only one scared. But it's one thing to know your stepmother gets smacked around every once in a while and another thing completely to find her body on the bathroom floor.He's a mess, Max is even more of a mess, and Joyce Byers is a queen among mothers, she really is.

Hargrove by petersnotkingyet (Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) “Chief?” “Yeah?” Hopper responded. It was barely eight o’clock; he’d just made it to the office. “Principal Wallace needs you down at the high school. The Hargrove kid’s sleeping in his car again, and they can’t get him to wake up.”

stand (in the place where you live) by Boardingschooled (Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield)(Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington) After the gate is closed, Billy Hargrove has to face the consequences of what he's done, and it's all thanks to Hopper and his habit of taking in strays. Alternatively: Billy becomes a good big brother, learns how to apologize, and makes some very gay mixtapes, not in that order.

Holding Out For A Hero by TumbleTree Billy had never cared for the kids Steve called his own. He had already started tolerating them for Max’s sake and not because she almost busted his nuts that one time with the baseball bat. But when Steve had looked at him with those big brown eyes, begging him to keep an eye on the kids while he was on some ‘vacation’ with his asshole parents Billy couldn’t say no.So fuck Steve for putting him in all the situations that followed that conversation. He owed him a ton of blow jobs for all the shit he had to put up with now.—Five times Billy protected their kids and the one time they protected him…sort of.

We Slip And Slide by CallieB It came from the Discord, y'all.Pure indulgent post-S3 fluff, including but not limited to the discussed concepts of: - Billy moving in with Joyce - The Jonathan/Billy friendship we all need - Grouchy Hopper - Jonathan and Billy smoking weed together and arguing about music. Because punk and metal are two different things. BUT they unite against Steve’s taste - Robin and Jonathan being excellent wing-persons - Hop and Billy teaming up against Mike to protect El - Shovel talks all round - Robin being clever and eating popcorn - The you rule/you suck board

the greatest adventure is the family you’ve searched for coming alive by ThePackWantstheD Billy spends a night fighting monsters with a crowbar in his hand after Harrington knocks him into the Byers’ fridge.In the aftermath, he and Max call a ceasefire.or: Billy Hargrove gets the family he deserves in the form of three children taking up the seats of the camaro, in the form of Billy teaching Max that she can be as badass as she wants without being less of a girl because Billy taking care of himself doesn’t make him less of a man, in the form of the blood and bruises and broken bones that Eleven and Billy share, in the form of Will Byers learning that he’s not the only boy in Hawkins who wants to kiss other boys.

The Great Escape by flippyspoon Hopper’s been in a cell in Kamchatka for three months. He’s got a routine and he takes it one day at a time. And then a certain blonde bad boy from Hawkins shows up.

Limits by That_Is_Americas_Ass Everyone has their limits.Max has just finally hit hers.She’s done with hiding behind closed doors listening to her step-father Neil hurt her brother, his own flesh and blood son, beyond reason and without remorse. She’s done watching her own mother cower in ignorance behind a mask of indifference. She’s done hiding in the dark while Billy takes the abuse to try and save her from the heartless man who dared call himself their father.Of all the monsters lurking in Hawkins, who would have guessed the worst of them all was living in Max’s own home?

Shovel Talk(s) by Invaderdumbass Max wasn’t a great sister, hell she wasn’t even a decent sister until recently. It took her brother dying, El spilling the secrets that lurk in her home, then him coming back to life for her to shape up.Or a bit of a Max Mayfield character study and everyones got an opinion on Billy and Steve getting together.

Steve & The Kids

A Chance To Heal by usa123 (Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids)(Protective Parent Jim Hopper & Steve Harrington) Missing scene from the end of 2x09 The Gate in which papa!Hopper is in full swing, Eleven believes Eggos can (help) cure any injury, and Steve gets all the platonic love and affection he deserves.

Found Families by darkangel86 (Jonathan Byers x Steve Harrington x Nancy Wheeler)(Protective Steve Harrington)(Steve & The Kids) One year and six months had passed since Lonnie had last set foot in Hawkins and in everyone's opinion that was still too soon for him to show his face again. So, of course the first time he shows up at the house, its Will who's home. Alone. For one of the first times since he'd been back from the Upside Down.

Misplaced Kids by StrangerStars (Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids)(Protective Steve Harrington) In which Steve can't find the kids and freaks the hell out.

The King of Hawkins High by el_spirito (Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids) (Protective Parent Jim Hopper) Just some missing scenes/an episode tag to the season finale because Steve got the crap beat out of him and there were just so many opportunities for our strange little family to bond and angst and persevere together. Featuring slightly-delirious-but-still-a-mom Steve, protective Dustin, snarky children, and paternal Hopper, among other things.

Common Cents by StrangerStars (Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids)(Parent Jim Hopper & Steve Harrington)(Joyce Byers & Steve Harrington) Making a will at eighteen seems incredibly morbid. The lawyer stares at him long and hard the entire time. She acts like he's contagious, like she might catch her death from him or maybe he'll ruin her rug by dropping dead in her office. Steve figures she has nothing to worry about. If anything's going to kill him, it's probably going to be a monster from the Upside Down. In which Steve hunts monsters, becomes a deputy, makes a will, and finds a family. Among other things.

The Steve Harrington Guide to Babysitting by UnoriginalToast (Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids) Steve has been tasked with babysitting El after the Gate is closed, which sounds like an easy enough job. After all, she's too tired to be much trouble, right? But what Steve doesn't factor in is the trouble her four nosey friends and that girl with the shitty brother can get themselves into.

Icebreaker by futureboy (Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids) Steve’s annoying new eighth-grader friends officially induct him as an ally to their party. It’s a prime opportunity for him to get to know that superhero buddy of theirs who keeps saving their skins.

"It's like the Body Snatchers!" by ChangeTheCircumstances (Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield)(Billy Hargrove x Steve Harrington)(Steve Harrington & The Stranger Things Kids) Max wonders if her life will ever be normal again, if anything can be normal in a place like Hawkins. She doubts it but there's at least one thing she's sure of: the last person to ever realize what's really going on in this crazy place will be Billy. No way would anything supernatural ever happen to him.

proud by mercytio (scundtrack) (Billy Hargrove & Max Mayfield)(Steve Harrington & Max Mayfield) max graduates and steve tells her exactly what she needed to hear

Steve x Reader

I Want You To Show Me by v_writings (Steve Harrington x Reader) Steve finds you in your secret place after dropping Dustin off at the Snow Ball, and talking about how he’s feeling leads you to do something neither of you could have expected.

#archive of our own #masterlist #stranger things #steve harrington #steve harrington masterlist #stranger things masterlist #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x billy hargrove #harringrove #strangerthings

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unhingedcitywalker · 4 years

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so Singapore isn’t perfect, and neither is studying abroad

Now that I’m in full living in here mode I thought I should write down some of the things that kind of suck. Its one of the reasons a blog kinda makes more sense. I feel like its so easy to get trapped into the reality that instagram posts are trying to sell you. I guess this is kind of a rant - but thats not really the intention here. I kind of just didn’t want to ignore the fact that this experience is far from perfect.

So Kobe died, I’m sick, there’s a coronavirus epidemic in Asia, and I just feel kinda shitty today.

So I’ve talked a lot about how much I’m liking people, culture, and living here. And that’s really because its really felt like a positive experience so far. But obviously, like everything anyone does thats not the whole story.

As a country Singapore has several problems, I’m not saying the US doesn’t but I think its important to be aware. As a one party state with immense nationalism - there is a huge level of intolerance for things that go against the norm. When has intense nationalism and patriotism ever been good? But when the government censors the media, caters to one set of identities, shows extreme opposition to drugs and alcohol (literally the death penalty in many cases), and enforces two years of mandatory military service you can’t help but realize you took all those things for granted. Everything I mean literally everything is wrapped in plastic or given to you in plastic bags. Every thing fun is also taxed or illegal! Ice cream, electronics, alcohol (literally 5-10x the rest of the world) are basically completely unreasonable to buy. Possessing weed or any other drug for that matter can lead to life sentences or execution. Police cameras and constant reinforcement and focus on these strict rules really kind of binds people into being to scared to even consider breaking any of these laws. My dorm has an insane set of rules called the demerit point structure. Basically if you amass 16 points - you get kicked of the the dorm permanently. Thank god my roomates are chill and don’t happen to be local students that could possibly mind.

Ok honestly these frustrations about the country are pretty minor but I wanted to write them out nonetheless. The next is just kind of all the struggles that come with studying abroad. Feeling lonely, distant, and stressed about how much more intense school is here. Things and people just aren’t laid back or care free or maybe thats just how it feels. Constantly meeting new people just drains your social battery over and over. Everyone is kinda faking it including yourself. It really makes you appreciate all the people at home that you are so comfortable with, that really take no energy or mental gymnastics to talk to or spend time with. I can’t really say I’m home sick or dying to be back because I’m not - but more so that I just appreciate so much more what I have back at home. You just don’t really know until you leave. Also the 14 hour time difference is brutal. I am learning to be more tolerant though. You kinda just get forced into groups of people whether you vibe or not. And usually I’m one to just not fuck with people that I don’t like, but I’m really being forced to change that. I think its a good thing. All of this in some way is still good, I can’t help but believe that this experience is gonna be a super positive influence on my life.

Sorry for all the complaining honestly even I’m tired of it after writing this much. Just wanted to end on a thankful note. Thankful for the few people I’ve met here that definitely will become lifelong friends and the rest of the lifelong friends I have back home. It’s quite nice when you know people for years and they really know who you are. Especially thankful for one stupid idiot but she knows that.

Last thing - so Kobe dying reallllly hit me hard. I’ve never once felt bad about a celebrity dying - scratch that I’ve never felt bad about anyone dying. Including my own grandpa. Although I was young (7 or 8) - I never really met him or had any memory of him and honestly even my dad didn’t take it so hard because he wasn’t that close to him being 1 of 7 kids. Seems crazy to admit that, but I truly was really inspired by Kobe. I spent hours on the verge of crying and watching interviews, highlights, and reading stories. It feels so strange to idolize someone so deeply - I never thought I was the type to do that. But, I read his book 5 or 6 times, watched almost every interview he did, and really subscribed to his views on pursuing your passions so ruthlessly, curiousity, preparation, and work ethic. This really makes me think how I’m going to handle the first time I experience death with anyone close to me. Scary for sure.

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tripping-on-assid · 6 years

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4218

923pm

It’s been a while. So for that, there is quite a lot to catch up on. However, like always, I’ll just write until I don’t want to anymore. Don’t care for spelling, grammar, correct sentence phrasing, any of that, just my thoughts.

I want to start off by saying that while im writing this I took about half/quarter of a tab about 45 min ago. Just for the concentration. Also, so I could probably get super intense and “deep” with what I write. Im also listening to Periphery in the background and it’s nice. The amount of acid I took wasnt much...at most it was 50ugs. I used the rest of it from microdosing. Hell, I might not even feel it since I microdosed today lmao. Nonetheless, placebo never hurt anybody right? lol. And if the acid doesnt work I got some coffee

Since I last posted, back in November, shit went FUCKING DOWNNN. Since November, Royce and my mom split, we got a new house, quit my job at panera and I failed 3/4ths of my classes that semester. Royce left because of some selfish reason of how it was “god’s plan” for him to turn over houses, and my mom didnt want to deal with that so she left his ass. I got pretty fucking sad over failing my classes, as you could see I was ranting and raving how much I despised college back in November but reality got kicked into gear when I failed. Kinda sucks. My mindset was ridiculous back then, and it still is now, however back then, it was intimately superficial. However, the deeper I got with philosophy and spirituality and all that shit, I kinda wanted to step up my game.

Weird shit can happen to you, and weird thoughts come into play when you’re naive. And like, Im still 19. Im not granted with all this wisdom but I respect and value education. Knowledge. Discomfort. You see, how amazing would it be to just, trip on shrooms or L every few weeks, thinking about your life and thinking about all the crazy questions in life and actually have it set. How amazing would it be to smoke weed and do the same thing, everyday? Seems great, however, that isnt the best way to live. I lived it and honestly im still kinda living it. I quit working so the only obligation really I have is school and thats every other day. Living thankfully from my tax return and financial aid reimbursement. But even that is spent on shit like weed, which I blow through pretty quick.

I italicized the word discomfort from the last paragraph because a lot of my role models talk about that, PsychedSubstance, and especially Jordan Peterson have spread that message. And like, that message is honestly everywhere “no pain, no gain” “smooth sails dont make good sailors(something like that)”, I mean, it’s everywhere. But, I took a good look into it and kinda really get the meaning of it. That’s what I like to do, I like to grab ideas by the crouch and examine tf outta them. Nonetheless, the discomfort idea is pretty solid. Jordan Peterson elaborates on the synonym of suffering though.

+Trip report: I think I kinda am feeling it, very slight visual distortions and lighting intensity.

Anyways! Thats another thing Id like to talk about, psychedelics. I mean, when do i not, but, I told myself and my girlfriend (we’re still together and we’re going pretty good! In fact we’ve gotten much much closer since November) that I would take a break from psychedelics after I had a 5g shroom trip that was wayyyy too intense for me. I said I wouldn’t do hallucinogens until april 8th, and guess what? I didnt fall through. Because guess what? It isnt april 8th yet. In fact I’ve microdosed twice. Sooooo, I broke that promise. And that brings in a problem, who do i go to when I cant tell my girlfriend stuff? Why cant i? Why are there some things that I should keep private and why am i keeping this a secret? I dont know but it feels much better to type this out than to live without it being somewhere. So youre probably thinking how I couldnt keep my word, well let me tell you a story and end with a self analysis.

So about a week ago I got back into town from visiting the day with my grandmother/aunt/cousin/mother for my grandmother’s birthday bash. I was pretty bummed I had to go (even though i had a pretty good time there, we played scategories, it was fun) because i was missing emo night in daytona! Well, I got back into town enough to see half of it and my friend Mashal ( i bought L off of him before, me and him are pretty good acquaintances) asked me if i wanted a tab. I was like “aw hell yeah but I dont have any $” and he was like “its fine bro here you go enjoy”

So right when i got it i was ecstatic. It’s like i couldnt wait until april 8th. It was in my hand, I couldve tripped that night, but i knew i had a promise to keep. A promise id eventually break but, it gave me so much more passion in life. The hobby of reading about trip reports, about being able to trip again, it was just. So.Fucking.Interesting. like honestly, tripping is so profound. I mean hell, Im on a little bit of acid rn.

And that leads me to the analysis and honestly I dont know if thats good or bad. I dont know what to think about that. Because i know my attitude shifted considerably from no desire to trip to wanting to trip hella bad. Getting back into trip reports, reading about different combos with weed and other substances. I missed it. And honestly, that kind of worries me a bit. Because my passion is what? Learning about and doing psychedelics?

It’s so weird because I tripped a lot last winter, once every few weeks, if not every one to two weeks. And even though it was so profound, I got HPPD. And i think that really fucked with my brain. Theres this fog i get in my head, foggy/cloudy mindset. Where focusing, thinking, talking, doing stuff is a bit more...complex than it is usually. I think i suffered a bit of disassociation too. I would constantly think I wasnt myself, that maybe I was just some vessel, or some robot just doing mundane tasks. It was the weirdest feeling ever. However, I was going through a lot like...I was pretty fucking sad. So HPPD with depression wasnt the best. I was sad I was moving, I was sad my parents broke up, and I was especially sad over failing my classes, and...i also got into two car crashes, both within a month. So, I felt like doodoo. But which came first? the chicken or the egg? Did i get sad because of the psychedlics and then had a crash or did i have a crash and then get super sad? either way, i was a mess. And leaving psychedelics out was uncomfortable because I remember doing shrooms once because I had problems to fix. But my mood and my mind couldnt handle psychedelics. And I dismissed them, but after Mashal gave me that tab, I felt the same passion I had last winter over psychedelics again. And I was just so happy that I would trip again soon.

So that happened. In fact, April 7th is when im planning on tripping, Kyle (ex panera employee also Journeys best friend...crazy!) is planning on coming over to journeys and we gonna trip, smoke weed, and chill and I told him i wanted to go see nature and stuff. Im also on a break from weed so when I do smoke on saturday, my tolerance will be 0 and I will have an intense af experience. Im ready.

Also, this is my like, 3rd night at my mom’s house, and 1st night with the computer back. So maybe ill hit you guys up later with maybe something more thought out, but this is my entry! till next time

#diary

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somedaypast-thesunset · 7 years

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i spoke it out loud.

i spend like.. alot of time in my head now. no one cares to hear things without giving their dumbass opinion. sometimes i just need to say it out loud and today i opened up to a friend ive bonded very close with but havent been in alot of contact with which meant i had to explain scenarios from start to finish - not brief blips of anxiety fueled thoughts about details.

today i felt publically embarassed. it really, really bothered me that for all ive heard and listened to from him he bailed on my show that he volunteered to be apart of two fucking months ago. it wasnt like i forced him to be involved. i didnt even ask him like i wanted him to do it. it was very casual do you want to be apart of it - sure.

i dont think you understand. under all the shitty men ive stuck it out with being treated like a lesser human while building a reputation and skill in my field FROM FUCKING NOTHING while people fucking died and break ups i id nothing but GET FUCKING BETTER. not a god damn thing stopped me because i kept my personal life seperate.

but this didnt start seperate. and like i think he sees this as nothing when its fucking everything to me and im fucking tired of people seeing it as some junk hobby i do because im “unemployed”. and look - even i can see how fucked up it can be sometimes but people enjoy what i do. i give back to MY community which is compromised of atleast 100+ more people and giving back to a community is not defined in lare fucking numbers like i have to contribute to the whole of society. maybe i fucking am.

and i am really... im angry. im just straight up fucking angry and these things never even came up. none of this is questioned. he didnt insult me. he fucking BAILED which is probably the biggest insult of them all. like... i even brought up the fact he coul be about to cheat on me and i’m more pissed that he insulted me in such a way. do i have a fucking degree? do i pull a paycheck? no. but this is fucking valuable. i see it everytime my miserable piece of shit ass pulls together a gathering or event. the fucking city approached me because i created a product they wanted and for the fucking INTEGRITY of the community i stood up and offered my professional reputation on the line to do better. and you cant show up to a fucking 16 person event and read a god damn story? really? that is an embarassment on my behalf to my personal colleagues and god damnit i fucking live here and i have no choice but to work with this because i want better now not 5 years down the road when im all settled and everything is just a thing i do on the weekends. why cant i contribute now. why cant i build myself this way.

so even if you thin these colleagues are unworthy - you stepped into my fucking realm and you so deeply disrespect something i have built from nothing. my professional reputation is associated with your piece of shit fly by night ass and you know what? my fucking bad. i would never in a million years put up with this shit from anyone not puttin gtheir dick in me so this is absolutely ridiculous. i cant even tolerate this in myself any longer and i hope - honestly - i fucking hope you used this as a leaping point into your big break up because this is what’ll make it stick. right. because you “cant fuck someone else” to solidify an ending but you can assault me in multiple ways.

and we both fucking know. we both legitimately fucking know what happened and thats why were not fucking and thats why youre not trying. this - this is all just natural now. and when they ask me ill have to act dumb - oh i have no idea why hes just this crazy guy its what he does when we both know and this sick twisted brain turned to fucking shit. who rehashes such shit. i was with a guy for way fucking longer than almost any of my current peers and i am not fucking with him but you dont think we didnt grow up together? we ha a whole fucking lifetime together, really. i shared an entire thing that no one else fucking knows about but us but you think i ned to rehash that shit with him? fuck no.

ironic right. i wanted to say how toxic it is to be addicted to the past but i would know. i would fucking know the most and we’re all matthew mccougnhey in dazed nd confused addicted to the past to the nostalgia care free late teens early 20s but we’re fucking old and everyone else has grown up but us and we’re here in the ghettos of the wasted suburbs, drinking and smoking weed to numb the fact that we hit our peaks at 16.

do i even give a fuck? like i give A fuck. clearly. im thiining about it. but not in the sense that im hurt. like its some deep offense that he would do such things. i have never believed a word he has said about our relationship. i believe any mention of long term past next week is a fucking joke. but he’s also incredibly kind to me. an i dont think at all that he would carry on some “affair” in private - THATS not our deal.

i dont care that hes talking to her. the grief process is hard and this is a fucked up situation. that doesnt bother me. i think its super wrong to carry on a relationship with this person in close measures but finding a path through grief - whether 2,3,5 years; i get it. does he need to fuck her? nope. and i have had a strange enough relationship - i am not interested in carrying on one tht is knowingly false.

he told me he didnt love me a few weeks ago. before that in another major blow up he mentioned how that particular fight woul lead to a “scar” that woul sit on the relationship. not that it woud be brought up again but acknowledging that he was and is creating real scars emotionally and mentally. it’s not manipulative - i’m here of my own freewill, i deal of my own free will. and this happens not often enough to be a malicious attempt at control. and we dont talk about things. ever. an entire year where we have never spoken about the details of these things we both COMPLEteLY KNOW ABOUT. like we both know he kind of sexually assaulted me for real. and isay for real because of the nature of our relationship but we both strayed from the necessary things for such a relationship that wouldve led to this not even happening and i dont “blame” myself. i absolutely did not want to have sex with him. absolutely did not. i said i did not want to have sex with him. i said no. i did not physically stop him in any way because of the nature of our relationship and the disrespect of my own body as well as maybe a need for approval from him because i associate sex in an intimate romantic relationship as an expression of love from a sexual person. and its hard because i do legitimately feel asexual; i have no interest. i have actual no interest and i feign interest or find ways to be interested to a degree but i dont care. so i am in a position where i am frequently disconnectin from the physical act happening to my body because i may not even be necessarily enjoying it on that sexual level. to me its an appendage inserted in a hole and it’s kind of invasive and a really od experience with someone. like its just odd to do that with a person and share eachother like that - TO ME. but this is like fighting homosexuality. i cant argue a sexual persons desires.

so i enter a relationship already essentially to a technical definition being assaulted. im never truly having consensual sex because i have no desire but i guess i do consent to the invasion of my body. i dont disagree with it happening because if i love you i dont really care if thats your thing. its not that big of a deal. brushing your teeth, taking a shower. all just things you do. this is what a majority of eople do.

but we both fucking know. no matter how many times we had sex where it started with a playful no we both know i absolutely did not want this. my body did not even want it and he still kept going and i was not even making noise and he still kept going and the air was not right when it was over because he STILL KEPT GOING. i was not upset. i did not cry. i didnt lament for hours on it. i turned over and went to sleep because he didnt hurt me. he broke my trust. i’m not traumatized by the experience, i wont put him on the “bad boyfriend” list and make him out to be a predator because hes not. i dont know why he did this. maybe he thought it was okay and he convinced himself it was okay when it wasnt.

we didnt talk about this. we didnt mention it at all but when he heard no next time he immediately stopped. when he heard it again, he immediately stopped. and everytime after, his hands immediately dropped from my body. we both know. can he apologize? we both know. i know he knows. there is zero reason for this change in behavior.

the last time i saw him he drove me to his house so i could smoke weed because of period cramps. and then he dropped out. hes too far in the dog house now and hes not even going to try to get out. this is tooooooo far. on top of everything else when im literally doing nothing but existing in my own shit life. i already look at him now and i dont see the same thing and i want to. but i keep asking myself what the fuck is this where are we going. and ive asked it for an entire year. i asked it so much his face changed and im still the same because i have a need to not give up even when its time.

and you know. had he called me and said im tired/got home late/too much traffic /tried & failed on story and made a genuine effort to seem apologetic on a personal level to me id probably be okay. but instead he just said “sorry. not going.” and ignored all further calls and texts. thats disgusting and like im trying and have been trying really hard to mentally be a better person and this was one of those times he had an opportunity to not do this and he did exactly what i would expect him to do following a stupid message like that.

now what? now hes created a thing. now i gotta wait the fucking 2 - 3 days for him to think i forgot about it or am not as angry so we can sit in the same room, not talk about it and carry on as normal.

but you know what? i was pissed. and i ruminated. but i didnt act. i sent a succinct few messages less than 160 characters asking him to call me and asking if there was any way to get a ride and moved on because all i know is that he’s never goingt o be involved in any of my professional shit ever again. hes totally disbarred from this project and even though hes been a big supporter in the past i dont need this emotional drama involved. totally ot worth it an not valuable to anyone so i dont need a long message because im just going to do whatever i want an not involve him. he doesnt need a big dramatic thing about it. and fuck you that i cant even get a ride. why even waste the energy involved in the dramatic message. thats my message this time. my message is the time he absolutely 100% expects me to send the ramatic message.

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anticosmic · 7 years

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September 4, 2017

All things considered, August was a piece of shit. There’s been a shift, however, especially over the last few days. It’s like I can see things clearer than before, or rather I can see what’s in front of me and what I need to do better than before. I spent a good part of the last two years sort of not knowing what or who the fuck I was. It’s a byproduct of all the Crazy Shit I’m up to on a near constant basis, no doubt, but still, as the last six months of my twenties now approaches, and Saturn prepares for its return in my life, it’s good to get some of the latent garbage out of the way.

Hung out with L Friday night for the first time since June, when he was still a lowly single-man with no hope for life. Now he’s A Man in a Relationship, imparting relationship/love advice, with life all figured out. Oh how a few short months can change someone. Was I like this/am I like this in relationships? Can’t recall. L’s had far less luck in the relationship department–who knows when he was last in one, he keeps that data under tight lock and key–so I’ll give his idealism a break. Since he and I do keep in touch via the intimacy of FB messenger, I’ve received quite the digital earful about his girlfriend, how she’s so talented and smart and full of insecurities and has dated/fucked her fair share of guys and how he pretends that that doesn’t bother him and how she may, in some Foucaultian power struggle, wish for him to punish her for her past sexual indiscretions. We’ve covered quite a few bases, L and I, despite not having actually seen each other in meat space for a while. Feeling nostalgic for my past life when Jay and I used to drink 40s in the park back in Old Town, I suggested we buy a couple beers and make our way to the park in College Town. L was hesitant, but as per usual I peer pressured him and he followed along due to his jelly-like spine. We had a good conversation, mostly about the quite obvious impending civil war our country will see in the near future and the insufferable nature of white people inflicted with White Guilt that makes them say the dumbest fucking things of all time. All-in-all, it was a good conversation. Then L’s girlfriend, whom I can say I was partially interested in meeting just to see who she was and what she was like, arrived and I notice she has a dog. Well, no biggie, dogs are cool, and she’s a girl walking around College Town at night, so… well, it turns out she��s the archetypal Girl With a Dog. That is, a 30-something hipster whose life is devoted to a small, mostly useless type canine, who will cut off a reasonably engaging conversation about identity politics with a hearty “Fetch Ziggy!” as she throws a ball for Ziggy the Dog to catch. It’s all a bit much.

So Girl With a Dog made a bad first impression. But, I don’t know her, I don’t want to reduce her to a simple catch-all signifier right off the bat, right? Unfortunately, aside from her all-consuming affinity for her dog, there didn’t seem to be much going on with her. How old did L say she was? 30? 31? Roughly our age. Well, she just sat there, making occasional interjections about pretty much nothing, her focus being mostly on the dog. It was all quite disappointing. I truly cannot see what L sees in her, which is fine because she’s not my girlfriend after all, but I get the sneaking suspicion that he’s just with her because she’s there, and that his ego, brutally beaten through several unfortunate dalliances over the past few years, needed a bit of rehab. But I don’t know. It’s not really my place to conjecture what their relationship is like. Just as no one really knew why the fuck I tolerated K’s bullshit, I’ll go ahead and assume that L and Girl With a Dog have some certain unspoken, certainly ineffable, thing going on.

I just wish she talked about something, or at least gave me something to work with while we were at the park. She’s too old to be socially awkward. Socially insecure and anxious, yeah, I got that too, but I fake it when I’m in public, and just rue social interactions when I’m in the comfort of my own home. But in front of people I’m affable, somewhat charming, good at conversations. And so is L, who has many of my same anxieties more or less. We fake it. She just sat there, like a lump on a log, listening to L and I talk, which sadly wasn’t about much of anything when she got there because L’s attention was now split between her and I. She did have more input when we talked about weed and getting high (which I don’t do much of anymore but pretended I did at that moment for the sake of conversation), but it was mostly about how she enjoys spliffs. I do not enjoy spliffs. Spliffs are the Laodicea of joints. Joints are not my preferred method of smoking, but if I do find myself with joint in hand I want it to contain only some good ass weed because I’m a goddamn American! Get the fuck out of here with your spliffs.

She also rolls her own cigarettes which is nothing short of a travesty in my world. I never understood the point of rolling your own cigarettes. “It’s cheaper,” they say. “It makes you work for your fix,” they say. Well, if my Postmates, Door Dash and Instacart accounts have anything to say, it’s that I value convenience and efficiency over price or, god forbid, effort. Some things–love, career, art, consciousness–require the upmost amount of discipline and effort to fully realize their potential. However smoking, as well as any other drug, should be attained quickly and easily, with as little effort as possible. Just because something requires more effort does not mean it is more valuable, or is on a higher hierarchy than it’s easier attained siblings.

Of course, I don’t smoke cigarettes anymore. I smoke weed maybe once or twice a year now. The singular Coors Light I was drinking in the park not withstanding, I never drink anymore either. However, my twenties having been devoted to all manners of consuming various substances, I still have opinions. Very strong opinions at that. Clearly.

Anyway, Girl With a Dog was a bit of a nothing person. Not quite a tabula rasa, I’d compare her more to a lump of clay. I don’t know what L sees in her, but she doesn’t seem to have much going on inside her. In many ways she was the Platonic ideal of a hipster, which is such an antiquated term these days with no real definition but it’s all I can think of when I think of her. Of course, she is a person, and people have worlds upon worlds living within them, but some of those worlds are a bit more populated than others. Whatever landscapes she has residing within her, I’d say it’s on par with a night time road trip around Idaho.

Saturday arrived and I felt more or less depressed, like I’d hit a spiritual wall of sorts. With this coming Friday being my last day at the office, I’ve been realizing the existence of these sort of blocks more and more. Leaving my job is a terrifying prospect, but for every con I can think of, there are maybe ten pros as to why this is an overall good idea. My savings has given me enough of a cushion to work on other ventures for a while, and I’d really like to spend more time with Mom. She may be here for six months, she may be here for six years, but I really want to be with her now because this is when she needs me the most. However, she’s been active lately, going out with Dad a lot. She’s gained a bit of weight, which in this case is a good thing, and she seems overall fairly content with life, but there’s always the question of her mortality lingering under the surface of all our thoughts. No matter what happens to me professionally now that my job will soon be in the rear view mirror, I will not regret spending more time with my mother.

If there’s any signifier that I’m going through quite a few life changes, it’s that my dreams have gone off the chain. Every night for the last couple weeks has been full of some pretty crazy dreams, and lately there’s been an influx of sex dreams, which I don’t normally have much of. My dreams only get like this when my life is undergoing a major transformation. Thus, my goal for the foreseeable future is to keep a record of my dreams. I’ve been meaning to do this anyhow, but now, with so much going on in my life, seems like an especially auspicious time to keep a journal of the Dreaming. However, dreams, no matter how fascinating, are inherently boring due to their highly subjective but equally nonsensical nature. They’re best kept secret. Also, even when I’ve kept dream journals in the past, they only seemed important or useful in retrospect. However, we spend a third of our lives asleep, our minds going elsewhere. To not at least do something with this time is to experience only a partially-lived life. Of course I need to get past the abundant mountain of laziness that always lands in front of me when I first wake up in the morning, but I think that keeping a dream journal, especially at this juncture in my life, will yield some incredible benefits.

#life

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sealionssc-blog · 7 years

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We have officially hit a new low...

Last night in the middle of reading my chapter of the book codependent no more my mind started wandering. Which is normal I am usually all over the place. I can be in the middle of an intense meeting and be like hmmm do I have enough laundry detergent at home?” Yup this is me. I once read an Ellen De Generis book where she talked about this and I about fell off the couch laughing so hard. Anyways, my husband had gotten a full soma prescription of 60 pills. A few weeks ago or maybe at least mid-may I saw it disappear. I was thinking to myself he hasn’t been slurring or been “soma slow” as I refer to it and I have seen him taking flexeril not Soma. So then it dawns on me he has been smoking a ton of pot lately and had not just his pen, but actual joints. That has to be more than $60/2 weeks. Then it dawned on me. Oh my god he is selling his Soma’s for medical marijuana. So of course this dawns on me before I have to put my son to bed so I get on the bank website and sure enough, the ONLY withdrawal in may was like on 5/1 and he didn’t take another $60 withdrawal till 6/4 and hasn’t taken one since. Yup the weed has to be coming from somewhere. So great here we are his version of saving money is to slang. AWESOME.

So the activity from the chapter of my book is to go through a checklist and identify characteristic if it is a problem for you. Sorry this is a long one but probably necessary.

CARETAKING

-Think and feel responsible for other people-for other people’s feelings, thoughts, actions, choices, wants, needs, well being, lack of well-being, and ultimate destiny. 2

-Feel compelled-almost forced-to help that person solve the problem, such as offering unwanted advice, giving a rapid fire series of suggestions, or fixing feelings. 2

-Feel angry when their help isn’t effective. 2

-Anticipate other people’s needs.2

-Wonder why others don’t do the same for them.2

-Find themselves saying yes when they mean no, doing things they really don’t want to be doing, doing more than their fair share of the work, and doing things for other people who are capable of doing for themselves. 2

-Not know what they want and need or, if they do, tell themselves what they want and need is not important. 2

-Try to please others instead of themselves. 1

-feel sad because they spend their whole lives giving to other people and nobody gives to them. 1

-abandon their routine to respond or do something for somebody else.

-overcommit themselves 1

-feel harried and pressured. 2

-blame others for the spot the codependents are in. 2

-believe other people are making them crazy 2

-feel angry, victimized, unappreciated and used. 2

LOW SELF-WORTH

-come from troubled, repressed, or dysfunctional families. 2

-denty their family was troubled, repressed, or dysfunctional. 2

-pick on themselves for everything, including the way they think, look, act, and behave. 2

-feel guilty about spending money on themselves or doing unnecessary or fun things for themselves.2

-fear rejection 1

-take things personally 2

-have been victims of sexual, physical, or emotional abuse, neglect, abandonment or alcoholism. 2-clarify emotional, neglect, alcoholism

-tell themselves they can’t do anything right. 1

-get strong feelings of low self-worth-embarrassment, failure, etc-from other people’s failures and problems. 1

-wish good things would happen to them. 2

REPRESSION

-push their thoughts and feelings out of their awareness because of fear and guilt. 1

-become afraid to let themselves be who they are. 1

OBSESSION

-feel terribly anxious about problems and people. 1

-lose sleep over problems or other people’s behaviour. 1

-worry 2

-never find answers 2

-check on people 2

-try to catch people in acts of misbehavior- (ironically this is what triggered the revelation about the drug dealing) 2

-abandon their routine because they are so upset about somebody or something. 2

-wonder why they never have any energy 1

-wonder why they can’t get things done 1

CONTROLLING

-have lived through events and with people who were out of control, causing the codependent sorrow and disappointment. 2

-don’t see or deal with their fear or loss of control. 1

-think they know best how things should turn out and how people should behave. 2

-try to control events and people through helplessness, guilt, coercion, threats, advice-giving, manipulation, or domination. 2

-eventually fail in their efforts or provoke people’s anger. 2

-get frustrated and angry 2

DENIAL

-ignore problems or pretend they aren’t happening 1

pretend circumstances aren’t as bad as they are. 1

tell themselves things will be better tomorrow. 1

stay busy so that they don’t have to think about things. 2

get confused.

go to doctors and get tranquilizers.1

become workaholics. 2

watch problems get worse. 2

believe lies. 1

lie to themselves 1

wonder why they feel like they’re going crazy. 2

DEPENDENCY

don’t feel happy, content, or peaceful with themselves. 1

look for happiness outside themselves. 2

latch on to whoever or whatever they think can provide happiness. 1

often seek love from people incapable of loving. 1

believe other people are never there for them. 2

equate love with pain 1

stay in relationships that don’t work. 2

tolerate abuse to keep people loving them. 2

feel trapped in relationships. 2

POOR COMMUNICATION

blame 2

threaten 2

coerce 1

beg 2

bribe 2

advise 2

don’t say with they mean 2

don’t mean what they say 2

don’t know what they mean 2

ask or what they want and need indirectly-sighing for example. 2

find it difficult to get to the point. 2

try to say what they hope will make people do what they want them to do. 2

lie to protect and cover up for people they love. 1

lie to protect themselves. 2

WEAK BOUNDARIES

say they won’t tolerate certain behaviors from other people. 2

gradually increase their tolerance until they can tolerate and do things they never said they would. 2

let others hurt them. 2

keep letting people hurt them. 2

wonder why they hurt so badly. 2

complain, blame and try to control while they continue to stand there.

finally get angry 2

become totally intolerant. 2

LACK OF TRUST

don’t trust other people 1

think god has abandoned them 1

lose faith and trust in god 1

ANGER

feel very scared, hurt and angry 2

live with people who are very scared, hurt and angry. 2

are frightened of other people’s anger. 1

think other people make them feel angry. 2

repress their angry feelings. 2

cry a lot, get depressed, 2

feel increasing amounts of anger, resentment and bitterness. 2

SEX PROBLEMS

are caretakers in the bedroom 1

have sex when they don’t want to 1

have sex when they’d rather be held, nurtured, and loved. 1

refuse to enjoy sex because they are so angry at their partner. 2

withdraw emotionally from their partner. 2

feel sexual revulsion toward their partner. 2

force themselves to have sex anyway. 1

reduce sex to a technical act. 2

lose interest in sex. 2

make up reasons to abstain. 2

wish their sex partner would die, go away, or sense the codependents feelings. 2

have strong fantasies about other people. 2

consider or have an extramarital affair. 2

MISCELLANEOUS

cover up, lie, and protect the problem. 1

not seek help because they tell themselves that the problem isn’t bad enough, or they aren’t important enough 2

PROGRESSIVE

feel lethargic 1

feel depressed 2

become withdrawn or isolated 1

begin to plan their escape from a relationship that they feel trapped in 2

Next, it asks to mark it with a 1 if its occasional 2 if its frequently a problem. Bear with me I’m just doing the work.

The next question is how do I feel about changing myself? Well I am here at this point now, I believe it is time for a change, it’s time for people around me to change, it’s time for me to be happy. Shingles was an extreme wake up call that I do not want to be so stressed that I get sick. This morning I am sitting down working at home, my son is playing on his xbox and my husband comes up stairs, I’m wondering am I getting Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde today. My son is in the xbox store I told him he could look all he wants but we are not downloading anything. He sees my son is on the store and flips out, even cussing at him, Get the hell out of there, what are you doing, that is a load of crap, if I see that again I am taking the Xbox away. You are full of bologna. Then two minutes later he is walking over and kissing our son good morning and telling him he will go get donuts for breakfast in a bit. Yup this RIGHT here is a perfect example of what I want to get away from.

What do you think will happen if you began to change? I know what exactly will happen, he will get meaner, nastier and try to make my life a living hell. Focusing on me, I will be happier, skinnier, and moving towards a goal. It will allow me to spend more time with my son and put ignore the noise around me.

Do you think you can change? YES! In the past 7-10 days I have realized more about why I can’t change him, and can only change myself, I have become more self aware, but where I need to do the work is with consistency and follow through. I can learn all these great tools but I have to keep always in my head that this isn’t something that I can get too busy at work to do, it has to be done. This is one reason why committing to this blog and posting daily is going to help me to be consistent. I’m creating a morning habit of writing on the train or today in the living room.

#narcissism #codependency #addiction #self awareness

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poisonedpan · 7 years

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Back In The Bay - 06/2014 - Section 17

I broke up with Chris three days later. It all started when he would text me nonstop and I realize that he actually kind of fucking annoys me. As it turns out, I actually really didn’t like him at all. I think I was just interested in the relationship factor. I lost the spark when I couldn’t see him anymore. The first day was great. We texted as if we were like a real couple. I called him my boyfriend and bragged to everyone that I had a boyfriend. As I was getting stoned with Courtney, Marg and Trevor. My mood was just high in the sky, as I really didn’t feel alone. Day two it started to fade away a little. I didn’t want to text all day, and those cute comments that he was always making doesn’t sound as nice because he wasn’t a guy I really wanted to be with. If I date someone, I want them to have a job, a car, a house, like some sort of life. Or at least trying, because it’s not like I have any of those things either. Things also started going downhill when my homeless boyfriend said that he gave a dude a handjob so he could use someones blanket, because his dumbass didn’t go to the shelter. “It’s cool, it’s not like we’re really taking this serious,” I said. I could’ve been pissed, but it was true. This wasn’t really a relationship, but I want to say that I have a boyfriend or at least have had one. The final day didn’t take long for me to realize that this isn’t what I wanted. He calls me, and we talk on the phone all the time. Truthfully, it’s nice. I liked hearing his voice most of the time, because it made me feel like this was a little real and not a waste of time. “I’m in love with you,” he said. What the fuck? How the fuck? Of course, I didn’t know what to say. This was just all over the place and it wasn’t going anywhere. “We should break up,” I said, not really giving a fuck about what happened after that. I don’t think I’ll ever see him again anyway so I wasn’t that stressed out about how much it hurt him. I hung up the phone and placed it next to me on the grass. What the fuck were you even thinking? I couldn’t help but laugh at the past few days of my life. I’ve done some crazy stuff. I’ve been through weird situations. I’ve made some mistakes. This wasn’t any of those though. This was just plain dumb as fuck. It’s crazy how fast things changed from right after that. Brady and I were kind of friends again. He had gotten mad at me about the whole Chris thing, and I told him that we weren’t going to be friends anymore. The thing with Brady is, he’s high maintenance. Sometimes though, I feel like he has to be. I don’t think life has ever really gave him a chance, and he’s just always on the shit end of the pole. Although, I don’t let myself always think that. Brady is doing amazing for himself. He’s working, he has this nice ass place in San fucking Francisco. Also, he’s almost done with school and he’s so intelligent. So I don’t feel that bad. Although, we were going to pride together. I loved spending more time in the cities. I found myself falling more in love with it every day. I forgot how things were different here. I also didn’t want to live off my cousin and I couldn’t seem to find a job in Fresno, not that I was really looking though. This is my first pride. I wore a Britney shirt that’s all cut up to show my body. I thought that I was going to look kind of like a hoe, but I ended up looking like Mother Mary. Everyone was hardly wearing any clothes, no pants, no shirts, some wore no underwear. I felt the freedom just pour out these city streets as we had that one message. We are proud. Being proud doesn’t mean you’re a queer. It just means, you’re proud of being who you are regardless of what anyone ever says about you. I was. I was different than most people that I’ve ever met. My mind worked differently. I’m proud of who I am though. Somehow in the middle of the crowd of exposed dicks and tits, Brady and I met some friends. They were a little younger than me, but they had pot. I had tequila. One of the easiest ways to become my friend is have weed if I have alcohol or vice versa. I don’t think I could ever say anything negative about anyone with those two substances in the mix. They had these weed rice krispy treats and I was eating them as if I hadn’t eaten anything before. I was trying to get a little fucked up. One of the girls became my best friend for the day. We were all over each other, being loud, obnoxious and ratchet. It wasn’t far off from anyone else there. So after the downtown party, there’s another pride in Castro. I don’t remember why we didn’t end up going to that one, I was kind of stoned. There was this cute guy named Juan with our new group of friends, but he had a boyfriend he was fighting with all day. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was high or drunk, but there was a part of me that wanted to meddle in their relationship. Also what happens at pride stays at pride? Right. Brady invited us to have a party at his house. I’ve been staying there a lot lately, it’s pretty much became my second home. I knew where everything was, and I acted like it was my house. Everyone besides Brady was fucked up. I thought that was probably for the best. Brady was straight edge, and I wasn’t sure what would happen if we all got fucked up. The girl was still clinging on me. She literally loved me, because I was gay. Story of my life though. We kissed all the times as fags and their hags do. It was fun. It reminded me a lot of being in high school with my friends at the beaches and just not giving a fuck about anything. As the night went on, we all got more drunk and high. I went to bed with Brady after everyone was pretty much going to bed. Brady takes ambien sometimes, and literally will just get up and “sleepwalk.” I haven’t made up my mind if he fakes all that, but I never know. Brady has a lot of problems that I wouldn’t think people would normally have. So yeah who knows? The girl hopped in bed with me and we started making out. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was drunk or if it was because I was high. Maybe because I’ve smashed pussy before, and I actually find it pretty great. It’s just complicated sleeping with both. Most girls don’t like fucking guys that get fucked by guys. Someone knocked on the door and got her out. I honestly couldn’t remember her name for the life of me. I only remembered like two of their names, so must’ve not left an impression on me. I wasn’t sure if I should go looking for Brady. I honestly didn’t want to. I knew that he wasn’t in the house anymore though, which kind of scared me. Although, I didn’t think I could have all these fucked up strangers at his house and for that to be okay. Also, I couldn’t tell them to leave cause we were all pretty trashed. So I let it all play out. I woke up. I ate more of those Rice Krispy Treat edibles. I drank more. I was going to spend this whole pride weekend fucked up. Well that lasted a couple hours, but then I didn’t know where the fuck I was. I was hot and tired and just wanted for pride to be over. I wasn’t proud of me at this moment. Juan gave me his number like a hoe, but we didn’t do anything. I have so many guys that want to slide into my phone and flirt over text, but nobody acts upon it in person. So I don’t really mess around with that. After Pride, you’d think I would’ve went back to my boring life. If you thought that, you’re mistaken. “Do you want to move in?” Brady asked. “I have one more month on the lease here, and you can stay here for free. Then in August we can share a place.” I was a little hesitant on this. There’s a reason I didn’t like living in San Francisco. I’ve been pretty good at not doing drugs all the time, but it’s because I’ve found a balance in going back to Fresno if I really wanted to get tweaked out. That doesn’t mean that I hadn’t still partied this summer? I’ve done it quite a few times. I did miss it here though. Maybe Brady would be a good influence on me. He doesn’t even smoke or drink. Also, I could live here for a month and if I realize that I didn’t like it then I would just go back to Fresno. I didn’t have to commit into a lease with him. I had a lot of things to think about. Brady was a little crazy sometimes. I love the dude and all, but there are things that you can tolerate when you don’t live with them. I wasn’t sure if I was ever going to be allowed to flirt with guys or go on dates because Brady would constantly be mad or jealous in some way. Even the other day we were walking down Castro, and these guys gave me the “up nod.” (For those who don’t know what that means, it’s like they were checking me out and letting me know that they’re interested.) I do this thing when I get a look in the streets like that, I raise my left eyebrow. Its just a habit, but yet he called me a hoe for it. I could tell he gets mad when we go out in gay places as well. I think he’s insecure and it’s not really about him liking me anymore. I think he just feels so little about himself and watching me get attention I don’t want is frustrating to him. Although, those were just the negative things about Brady. Brady made me laugh a lot, because were so different. I think some of the crazy things I do, he judges but is also so intrigued with it. I mean, who isn’t? It makes for a hell of a story. “I’ll think about it,” I said. There was a lot more than just Brady to consider as a factor in if I want to move or not. I also had to think about Trevor and Rylee, and the few friends I’ve made in Fresno. I had a life in Fresno now. It wasn’t like I was just living on the couch, and not doing anything. I had friends. I had roots in the ground somewhere and I don’t know how easily I could give that up for the city again. Also, I wasn’t sure that I would be more focused in San Francisco or not. I mean, there are more options for jobs and more opportunities for theatre and film. Will I even do that though? Where will I go to school? How will I even afford that rent? All these questions. Brady made my mind spin faster a fucking hurricane. It wasn’t his fault though, it was the fact that I was at the same crossroads I’ve been my whole life. What the fuck do you want, Chance? I thought about it. I wanted a life. I didn’t want to be old. The whole idea scared me because I already knew that I was going to be alone. I wasn’t going to have what my parents have. I wasn’t going to have what my aunts and uncles have. I wasn’t meant to have a life full of love like that. I wasn’t going to have kids the way that they did. Things were complicated for me. The next few days seemed to take forever. I went back to Fresno, trying to figure out what I wanted. I honestly couldn’t tell you. I was always torn between two different choices, and two different lives I want to live. I haven’t seemed to make the right one yet, but I can never tell which one makes the most sense to me. I sat in the grass, just trying to figure out where my head was at. I felt isolated from Fresno right now that this opportunity has arisen. I could move back to San Francisco and go to school. I could work and try to make a life out there. I didn’t have to move back and be doing drugs, and having all these mental problems. I could go there and be normal, like I’m doing in Fresno. I don’t have to sell myself in order to feel some sort of gratification or to pay my bills. I didn’t need that. I closed my eyes, and took a deep breath and allowed myself to just get out of my head for a second. Silence. It was within that moment that I decided that I was going to go back to San Francisco. I was either going to fly or fall on my face, but I had to try.

#san francisco #poison #depressed #teenager #gay #journal #writer #chance conley #booozeboy

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