#it's been one of my favourites since i was a kid i just couldn't articulate why back then

[octoagentmiles]

i hate when people try to say one octonaut is better or worse than the others. didn't you watch the mudskippers episode they are equals in every way because they are friends and love each other thank you end post <3

[teresalace]

"I won't cry for you" - Yandere Tyler Gaplin x Female Reader (this is my first dark fic🥺) PART 1

PART 2

source: Netflix show- Wednesday

Words: 3340

Warning: Mentions of blood, psychological.

• my note: I haven't watched the show 👀 so this is just me writing whatever I felt could be possibly true from the few articules I've read. Hope everyone can enjoy this last braincell of mine writing this 😤 my holiday is still going on! SHOUT OUT TO MY WRITER SISTER- HMUE LAY. Please guys be patient for part 2 💖☺️ much appreciated for the tips too!!

Summary: Life used to be perfectly normal until you got word of your mother, Laurel Gates (Professor Thornhill), being detained somewhere private after the big event at Nevermore Academy. Now, all alone, it was up to you to take care of things at home and act every bit of what a distraught kid would look like. But you couldn't sit back and do nothing, especially with knowing your mother's 'pet' wasn't going to be taken good care of in prison. You were going to do something and tie some loose strings, like mother like daughter.

____

"Last one." The silvery shine of a pair of tweazers as it releases a small insect into the spiky open mouth of a Venus flytrap, was more self-soothing than you thought as you placed the tool down. "I'll be back after a few days, I promise. So make sure to miss me," you whispered to them, lightly brushing your fingertips over the skin of the plants like your mother would.

Among the cluster of exotic plants your mother had grown at home, You lovingly watched your favourite, the last Venus flytrap snap Its leafy mouth shut before you left the house with strapped on bags. Feeding times were fun and all but you were running out of time, it's the house gardener's turn to look after the plants now.

Speedily, you rushed off towards the forest once outside and zipped your jacket up fully while shivering in the freezing cold wind of the night. You lowered your head and kept walking fast.

Hopefully no one saw or recognized you in the streets though you doubt anyone would, it's a small pilgrim world in this town and staying vigilant is key to not look suspicious.

Looking back in the direction of your home, you gave a final whisper to your dearest pet plants. "Sorry guys, mama isn't going to be coming back anytime soon. But rest assured, I will." If you didn't get killed. . . . Maybe hours had passed by with every crunch of dead leaves beneath your shoes, but you weren't sure and you didn't want to waste your cellphone battery by checking the time. You knew where to go and you had to hurry, who knows if the Hyde would be relocated by the time you arrive there.

The beaming of the full moon illuminated through the woods and guided you towards a familiar hiding place, a discernable cave where mother's emergency car hid in. And you held the very keys to it, in hand.

Maybe you've underestimated the amount of times it would take to power up the engine of an old semi-used car, but still you persisted in driving the mungy brown thing out of town and you did, as soundlessly as possible in the dead of night.

And as much as you could manage to nagivate your way through the woods with having the car headlights lead the way, it was more than difficult to track down the path of where the prison van went. Especially knowing it's been almost half a day since that van took off to god-knows-where.

Throwing sidelong glances here and there out in the moonlit dark, you finally slowed the car down after passing by enough thick trees and unfamiliar shrubs to know you were most likely near the intersection.

What actually made you stop the car were the bright strips of orange fabric scattered across the asphalt road in the direction of the woods, not too noticable at first glance but you were pleased to find a clue so early on to where mother's pet had gone.

Like breadcrumbs leading you on the right path, you left your car, pocketing a flashlight in case of emergency, and followed the pieces of fabric as they grew smaller in size and sparse into the forest.

Nevermind the fear of getting lost as your heart shook inside of you the farther you walked from the car, the chill of the biting wind barely calmed your body heating up the moment you spotted splotches of something like blood on the forest ground. You were close, you felt it.

Then you heard it, among the sounds of the night-critters and chripping grasshoppers, a heavy rugged breathing was unmistakably ahead. With a shivering pulse, you slowly stepped towards the area, turning behind a tall tree and saw a shirtless person laid there against the bark.

Eyes shut, disheveled curly hair, long scratches across his face that seemed to be covered in dark liquid, while his chest heaved for air. In the pale moonlight where anything and anyone could disappear, was Tyler Gaplin.

You found him.

It would've been nicer if you had brought a miniature pillow to wake the guy up with but your boots will do the trick for now. So you gave a light kick against his leg, once, twice until giving up at the lack of response.

You crouched near him to whisper, careful to avoid touching the ground and protecting your zippered jacket. "If you're awake you should get up, I'm not going to carry you all the way to the car." No answer.

"I should've expected this. . ." You mumbled.

It would've been better for you to discover him dead but he got lucky. Really lucky. Looks like you'll have to do this the hard way. You pulled back the sleeves of your jacket and grabbed the ankles of the guy, slowly and gently, lugging him across the ground, all the while avoiding branches and rocks where his head could hit. . . .

His heavy body easily slumped like a spinless leaf in the backseat of your car when you didn't bother to try readjusting his position, but you were already out of breath from dragging him the whole time.

Plus the blackseat was now dirtied by him but you weren't going to charge him, even though you should, considering how much easy he made it for you to find him. (Though he could've made things easier if he just disappeared but. . . You'll take what you can get)

Sure he'll deal with a sore neck or back but it wasn't your problem to deal with, you aren't a charity case after all. Only cleaning up the mess your mother made.

You momentarily stretched your back before getting in the driver's seat to drive, glancing often in the rear view mirror at the unconscious body showing no signs of awakening.

Good, you just needed some time before reaching the next town; Waterbury.

Little did you know then that from behind you, a pair of dark green eyes were awake and watching your every move.

. . .

Luckily for you, the dimly lit streets of Waterbury were barren and your job was made much easier to drive your car into the driveway of mother's second house.

It was convenient timing, you admit, that she had thought ahead and prepared a 'hideaway' place a year prior before the start of the new school year at Nevermore Academy. . . For what purpose? It wasn't in your interest to find out, mother does what she wants and so do you.

Now onto the second easiest task; to carry the unconcious bloody guy inside the house before anyone could see you two in the cover of darkness. Your arms ached in memory of the intense labour earlier, surely there must be another way of getting things done.

You stepped closer to the car window, wrapping your arms around your sides, peering inside with sharp eyes.

After examining his unmoving face and soft breathing pattern from outside, you guessed he must be fairly awake by now. You leaned your hip against the cold backseat cardoor, the bags strapped onto you weighing a ton on your bones as you lowered your voice to a no-nonsense level where he should be able to hear.

"Are you just going to keep sleeping? If you could, it'd be nice to give some answers to someone who's helping you and maybe walk yourself into your new home." Trying to sound friendly while still being on edge was the hardest task of the day when in reality you wanted to kick him awake but you gave him a couple more seconds to take in what you said.

The initial silence made you gave up and just as you were about to leave him in the car, a muffled groan came from the guy.

". . . What?" A weak, hoarse answer followed behind a slow opening of eyelids. The guy groggily blinked at you like someone who went through the most exhausting series of events.

Which was great. You didn't expect much to begin with so this response was a good enough start.

"Listen to me very carefully, I am trying to help you," technically you are, "my house is right Infront of us and we need to get you inside, immediately," while it's still dark out. You then pointed to your eyes, staring straight into his, now wide awake, "please blink twice if you understand, sir."

He took in a coarse breath and blinked hard at you, slowly moving his body from lying on the backseat.

"I–I understand," the guy said softly, now sitting as upright as he possibly could while keeping his head down. For a split second you hesitated as your fingers curled over the backseat door handle, his meek behaviour surprised you and at worst, gave you the chills. But you dismissed it, not wanting to overthink anything for this week's clean-up. Plus, you think he realized quick that he has no where else to go.

Truth be told, it was nice to enjoy the silence. No compliants whatsoever when you roughly directed him towards the house door, he walked himself inside, sluggish and zombie-like tired and looked around warily at his new environment as you closed the door.

Flipping on the living room lights, you were hugely relieved to see not a single speck of dust in every mahongy corner, of course mother wouldn't allow any place she owns to become messy. On the flip side, once your sweeping gaze settled on a guy's dirt streaked back, more work piled up in your brain. Great, just when you thought you could rest.

You cleared your throat slightly to get his distracted attention, "I'll go get a first aid kit, are you okay with me treating your. . . Injuries?"

He turned around fully, glancing down at you with a neutral, melancholic expression. "Uh, sure." You waited again incase he'd give another input but he stayed quiet, zoning out. It was obvious his mind was nowhere near present even when his body stood there still infront of you.

A part of you itched with curiousity at the monster in human clothing, usually a normie like you wouldn't have ever gotten the chance to have a face-to-face session with an outcast so this was the closest experience you were getting. In the flesh.

Before you went off to find said first aid kit, you intentionally snapped your fingers in a audible click to bring the guy back to earth. "Oh, feel free to continue sleeping or sit wherever you'd like, no one else is here except for you and me. So just make yourself at home," you said lazily, brushing the debris and pieces of dirt off your clothes on the floor mat. This house may as well be his new home since he can't go back to Jericho. Maybe he knew this too.

At your words, he slumped on the large couch and looked as worn out as a used car tire except covered in dried blood and long scratches. It would be better if you didn't ask where he got those wounds from, the last thing you need right now was more messes to clean up. "I'll be right back," you chriped from the stairs and plopped your bags in one of the empty bedrooms. The first aid kits are always located under the beds but you didn't reach for them right away, instead, you shutaway yourself in the bathroom and discreetly called the housekeeper/gardener from home to tell them the change of plans in your duration.

"I'll be back in 2 to 3 weeks time." You whispered into the cellphone receiver, "if and when mother arrives home before me, tell her I found a new interest or something believable that has to do with plant species. I'm counting on you." You hung up fast on the conglomerate of unhappy nosies before you could hear the proper nagging take place.

Now it was your turn to be unhappy and act like you care. You glimpsed at the red bag peeking out from under your new bed, time to play nurse. . . .

When you headed down the stairs, you spotted the guy staring out the only unblinded window. He didn't say a word and neither did you as you unzipped the red first aid kit and using a clean cloth, wiped his exposed upper body of grim and dirt and. . .

Minutes flied by like this, you disinfecting and then bandaging him up in a kindof decent sling while he stayed still and spaced out the entire time, hardly knowing if he's in pain or not from your inexperienced nursing.

Only when you were finished did he show a silver of movement and emotion.

"This town. . . Isn't Jericho." He spoke up first, voice less hoarse and more certain in something. Almost sounding relieved yet mournful.

All you did was nod as he fell dead asleep right there on the couch.

. . .

The morning after took too long to arrive, when you've already made a small plan in mind to ensure the hyde wouldn't become a problem in the future.

The days went by a grueling slow pace, full of watching a guy adjust to living in an unfamiliar house and spending most of the day inside his room excluding his walk to the fully stocked kitchen for food and staring out the window while you were out and about doing research on his issue. There weren't any pockets of time where both you and him could meet until you finally decided to take a break from overloading your brain and crashed onto the couch unceremoniously.

What you didn't expect to see next were a pair of dark green eyes peering down at you with a scarred face more lively and less pale. You raised an eyebrow, making no more attempts to be friendly outside of necessity, "do you want something?"

"Yeah, to ask a question. . . I mean, more than just one question," he said in a casual tone. You noticed he was wearing layered clothing, a jacket over another on top of a collared shirt, it's good he took the 'make yourself at home' phrase literally so you didn't have much else to do for him.

That brightened your mood and eased away the tiredness in your body.

"Then feel free, Galpin," you patted the seat beside you for him to sit, which he did before visibly tensing up.

"I never told you my name–"

"Tyler Galpin. Who hasn't heard of the sheriff's kid?" You didn't mean to but ended up cutting him off, and adding in a shrug as if to say it was dumb of him to ask.

"Right. . . " His shoulders sagged though not enough to indicate he was relaxed, you don't blame him one bit. He looked troubled but that wasn't in your business, you already played nurse to him so playing therapist was exceeding your limits.

Wait, wasn't he about to ask you something? You guessed it's probably about the town.

You crossed your legs, making sure there was distance between him and you. "If you're worried about being found out here, don't be. It's a small town but shouldn't be hard to keep secrets." As long as he kept a low profile and changed his identity, it can't be too hard.

Tyler swallowed, your gaze lingered on the thin scratch marks across his forehead and check, while knitting his brown eyebrows and listening. "Okay, I guess you're right," he sighed lowly, fingers interlinked over his knees, he looked as if he was distracting himself. Hopefully he ran out of questions because you were out of energy to use on him.

"I just . . . Wanted to know how are things in Jericho." He paused shortly to take in a shaky breath, "is my dad doing alright?" He looked like he probably wanted to ask something else but thought it through and decided not to.

Good decision on his part since no one else except for Nevermore students should know about the. . . Monster situation. It's better if possible that he doesn't find out you knew about him.

"Quiet and busy as usual, the school semester's ended," you deadpanned, "I'm not too friendly with sheriff Galpin but last I heard– the bear attacks have become a huge problem so there's a community alert going on." Bear attacks that he was responsible for.

Tyler's steady gaze never wavered once during the length you spoke, he only nodded and thanked you. At this point in time, as you stared at him, a lone boy, something inside of you began to fester and confusion clouded your mind.

Like some lost animal you had brought into your home to give shelter to, you aren't planning to stay any longer than necessary to befriend or grow attached to him. . . Yet the idea of watching over his 'progress' and hopefully pushing him towards leading a normal life sounded enticing.

You may have been staring for long too or too intensely at Tyler when he waved an open hand Infront of his face. "Uh, you. . . Okay?"

Blink. You blinked again, refocusing on his expression showing slight concern. "I got lost in my thoughts." Not wasting another second, you stood up from the couch, "bye then, Galpin."

There wasn't much to talk about in the first place and you wanted an excuse to avoid spending more time with him, he wasn't a house plant, he can eat, sleep and entertain himself without your help. That's right, you could finally rest again.

The moment you were about to leave, you felt a strong tug behind you. He stopped you by grabbing onto the hem of your blouse. "Hey, wait."

And so you did, turning your head around slowly towards him expectantly. "Yes?" You say in a nice and polite tone. Hoping this wouldn't be a waste of your time.

"Uh– I wanted to say thanks. I don't know what would've happened to me in those woods if you hadn't helped me, thank you. . ." He trailed off his sentence almost welcoming you to input something, like your name. But why would you? He doesn't need your name to survive.

Maybe it would have been better to tell him straight off that you weren't helping him for his own sake. . . But the opportunity to play a new role you've been eyeing for a long time felt too good to pass up. The savior.

For once a genuine smile popped up on your face as you looked into his shaded emerald eyes, "not a problem, Galpin. Glad I could help." Truly, maybe you did mean those words in the moment but you couldn't tell when your heart was beating intensely with excitement.

Before he could let go of the edge of your blouse, like some instinct unlocked in you and your hand automatically reached for his. Warmly caressing the top of his hand for a second as he released his grip, there was a strange twitch in his brows in reaction but you noted that he didn't move away.

No point in you sticking around after he's said his piece. So you smiled while your good mood was still present and went up the stairs. "Night, Galpin."

He didn't respond until you were already at the top of the stairs. "Yeah. . . Goodnight." He appeared, well, sounded to you, like some wounded animal reminded of their past. Or that could've been your imagination but you thought he sounded shaken.

That made sense, he probably still needs time to settle here. You nodded to yourself.

Figures. You knew he had no one else to rely on except a stranger, you, whose name he didn't even know. And the fact he saw you in a positive light felt. . . Good, similar to the same feeling you'd get from feeding your dear plants back home.

As you laid down on your bed, in your room which was next to Tyler's, a thought came across your head before sleep took over.

You were nothing like your mother, in most aspects. At least that's what you'd think.

[ivettel]

HOME. finally. oh my god. okay so trifonov concert ramblings:

i don't even know what to make of it because on one hand i think i was witness to the second coming of christ and on the other i have never been more irritated in my life. there was a high-pitched ringing sound during the second half that was Loud and it completely took over the music whenever he got quiet which meant the entire second movement of ravel's gaspard de la nuit was like Lost to me as was his mozart and part of his scriabin sonata. so like FUCK but also. fuck

i thought his schumann was great, but there were moments where i was like. hm. are you sure you wanted to do that. poor guy seemed exhausted even as he was walking on stage before he played anything, so tbh i think it's incredible that he pulled out the performance he did already. my friends were so critical though lmao they were like "i didn't think the fantasie was convincing enough" and "the tchaikovsky was all fluff" like chill and appreciate the smaller things please!!!!!! i learned a lot tonight just by listening!!!!!

been trying to articulate it and this might flop but okay here goes: the thing i appreciate most about trifonov is the attention he pays to all the notes and the purpose he gives to the music. nothing is just played to be played, and his voicing and phrasing work are god tier. his musicality lends itself to incredible moments, like maybe it was the acoustics and piano helping him out, but whenever there was a phrase that needed resolving, the sound gripped me by the throat. i literally couldn't breathe until he resolved the chords and i've never had that physical a reaction to the music before. it's because every sound had something to say, and he rlly forced us to focus on the minuscule details, which can be sooo hard to do in an echo-y hall... but he did it! he made tangible the immaterial.

honestly his studio albums and youtube don't do him justice. there's something so hypnotizing about the way he plays a room?? eg during one of the tchaikovsky children' album movements he did a subito piano at the climax of an energetic section--nothing rocket sciencey or inventive--but the way he did it literally had the entire audience chuckle/hum in an i-see-what-you-did-there way. the sheer charisma he has in his playing simultaneously destroys my self esteem and motivates me it's insane. that wasn't a one-man show, that was a dialogue

a russian lady sat beside me (duh. trifonov. we were surrounded by russians) and i think she teaches music at the conservatory or smth anyway she knew the repertoire inside-out and when she approved she would nod solemnly, pat her thigh, and mutter da under her breath. it was equally endearing and terrifying

im so fucking tired i've been up for 23 hours but im also bouncing off the walls like GUYSSSSSSS that was daniil trifonov!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! my favourite concert pianist since 2019!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! and i experienced it all with people i grew up learning music with !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! if i think about it too much i will explode it's actually insane like wdym i'm still talking about piano with the kids i met when i was 6 in another province. ur joking. ur joking!

[coridallasmultipass]

Personal vent and ugly mental illness symptom talk

So, I should unpack this with my therapist, but shit's embarrassing, so I'm just gonna vent it out on the public internet lmao.

I was typing out a whole thing about how I KNOW I'm aromantic, and despite that, still have moments where my brain gaslights me into believing I'm in fairytale love.

I should preface by saying I have not officially been diagnosed with either additional mental illnesses I believe that I have (B.P//D and AD//HD [which lol being on AD//HD meds since antidepressants didn't do anything has given me some notable improvement, but I'm still without a diagnosis], nor Au//tism) DESPITE repeatedly asking multiple therapists multiple times and a psych like 100 times to give me a definitive yes or a no.

But holy shit. So I'm typing about how I've 'Favourite Person'-ed multiple people at multiple points in my life across all ages, and I'm like, okay, it's been a hot minute since I refreshed my definition of that, I should make sure that's still a thing and not something I just made up or has been dropped from the symptoms or whatever the case. I wanna make sure I'm using it right in this rant about how falling into Favourite Personing people in the past has made me believe 'wait, maybe I'm not aro, this HAS to be like the deepest truest love in existence, despite my years of knowing I'm aro.' Like, I'm so aro I once calculated out the date, months in advance, I was gonna tell someone I was dating that I loved them, only because it seemed like a socially acceptable amount of time to say it. I wasn't thinking about what I actually felt lmao. (And that was probably not a FP relationship, too, so I know that was absolutely an aro incident.)

Anyways, so I'm reading a couple articles to make sure I articulate my points about how it's conflicted with being aro, and I read about how people falling into having a FP will even hate that person for the slightest perceived wrongs. (I knew this, I just was thinking about the love incidents since that's what was related to my point about being aro.)

And holy shit. That just. Unlocked a memory I have about when I was an older kid, like probably 9ish (and older), I HATED my best friend of many years and who would continue being my bff for more years. Who was my everything. I couldn't stop thinking about how much I hated them. I would lie awake at night (insomnia too tho) thinking about how much I hated them and I couldn't understand why I didn't just stop being their friend and start hanging out with old friends more instead. I just couldn't do it, I wanted to hang out with THEM. I was so sick and feeling jealous of them whenever I found out they'd been hanging out with someone else one-on-one and I wasn't invited. Even when it was their own family. One time they brought me a plate of cookies by surprise for (before) a holiday that they'd just made with their cousin or something. And I felt so sick about how I wasn't there for that, it felt like an insult. I couldn't have put this into words, unless I just now read that point in an article and made a connection. It was so confusing, because usually the people who hated their 'best friend' was like, the mean girl kinda character who intentionally does it to hurt the innocent main character or something, but I was the one who felt wronged every time those feelings would come up. And this wasn't just a 'man it's so annoying when they do this specific thing.' This was active stewing, in a slow cooker, all day and all night kinda thing.

I was never romantically or sexually attracted to that person, but I probably wrote all this off as either unrelated sexuality or gender bullshit when I figured that out later. But knowing now that there was definitely someone (actually, I'm thinking of WAY more people as I'm typing this, and just realized why I stopped loving a band and started hating them 'for no reason' wow lmao) that I FP'ed who I definitely WASN'T attracted to, suddenly convinces me that I was probably right in suspecting B.P//D. (Or, y'know, maybe I don't have that specifically, and it's the symptom from a different facet of mental illness or whatever.) I've been so hung up over how I'm aro, sometimes ace, and then this 'only' happens towards people I am attracted to. Like, 'maybe it was love and I'm just terrible at it.' (No! It's not! Aro is correct! That's just the brain manipulating me to get another hit of dopamine off a FP! It's just easier to happen to someone I'm attracted to!)

It's no fucking wonder why I always worried about people hating me in secret, and it's because I was absolutely making myself insufferable because of that worry. I know for a fact that some people definitely did hate (or. Lmao. Shut up. Like, 'resented' maybe fits better) me for demanding constant attention that was never reciprocated by anyone I've ever met in my entire life.

I probably wrote-off so many symptoms as 'I was a moody teen and kind of an asshole.' Except it happened before and after I was a teen, too. I would have excused everything that happened during and before high school, when I should have been looking for these patterns I kept following for years after. It doesn't help that my first relationship was wildly toxic (mostly against me in this one case), and while I didn't feel particularly bothered by it after I got over the nightmare breakup, I just kept going 'What if it was the sole cause of all of this and I'm just repressing that?' Well, phew! No, it's not, that was thankfully just a toxic embarrassment, and not the source of all my problems. I was already on the shitstorm trajectory. That's a major relief. If you can call it that. I really don't like discussing that one, but not in a trauma way, more like a, you don't really wanna discuss pissing your pants on accident kinda way. Unpleasant to remember, wildly embarrassing to talk about, but ultimately not a life-altering event.

Ughhhhh. Maybe I should bring this (the mental illness not the relationship) up to the therapist. But like, I haven't been close friends with anyone in like 6 years or so, so I don't have any current or even recent examples about how being in friendships has always turned out Russian Roulette for me. My therapist doesn't seem to believe how bad it was for me to be in friendships where I was unintentionally FP'ing someone. Because besides the depression and anxiety (and mild OCD), I'm a totally normal person to her who's just dealing with shit health problems and grief (and frustration from being trans and not in a safe place to transition). Y'know, normal life problems most people will feel at some point, just chronic in my case. I may be weird, but I'm obviously far from the worst she's seen. I'm not uniquely mentally ill.

((Except the whole 'treatment resistant depression' diagnosis bullshit from the psych, but I'm learning it's not just mental issues I have that are treatment resistant lol.))

I tried talking to her about a small part of all this before, but IDK what I did wrong, she took it 100% as me being the one unintentionally wronged and not setting MY own boundaries (lmao), so like I don't know how to word this in a way she'd understand that most of my problems in this area were my own fault. (I mean that both negatively and neutrally, because it's an ugly side of mental illness, but not one I chose or know how to help.)

Not being in close friendships with anyone has had an understandably sane-ifying effect on me (barring the, y'know, depression/anxiety/OCD and baseline weirdness), which has gotten me trapped for the 5th time in 6 years of making my therapists believe I'm better off than I actually am. (I've done this to every therapist I've ever had before that, too.) But like, again, at least for the past 3 therapists and the latest psych, I AM actually better for not having close friends lmao. Only one therapist ever had one visit of me wanting to address these concerns specifically while they were currently active, and by the next visit, we had to shift exclusively to sudden new grief lol. (What a shitshow. It somehow always ends up that whenever I wanna treat an illness, it's like opening a can of worms, except the worms are firecrackers and I didn't set the can down and step back a few feet.)

Like, it obviously feels safer to not have close friends at all because there's no fear of abandonment if I have no one to begin with. And, genuinely, I operate better when I'm alone. But now that I've known safety, it's hard to imagine throwing myself back into the roulette wheel, hoping I don't land on red OR black. But fuck, man. It is lonely.

And being aro? It's freeing, and validating too, to have a word for it, but I'm not gonna mince words here, I hate it. I wish I could feel romantic love. Like normal, not mentally ill ""love."" I feel platonic love all the time, like for friends (not FP) always. I love saying 'I love you' to friends and meaning it. But I want to feel romantic love. I just don't. I just feel friendship, Favoriting, and/or sexual attraction sometimes. Probably why I'm so into shipping and fanfics. I got a lot more "probably why's" but I don't wanna go down that in this already vulnerable post lol. (I already made a whole post about one of the why's back in like 2013 or 14 lmao, without connecting it to this.)

Anyway, I put this whole mental illness and relationships deal into ugly imagery in a current fic WIP I'm working on, since recognizing I was aro took living through FP'ing a few 'romantic' relationships, before I even first heard the term FP. I only saw my experiences as 'I don't think I've been experiencing love' and that by itself felt like it fit. I didn't realize there was anything wrong, even as I outwardly said shit like 'I don't think I'm fit for being in a relationship' to the few people who asked me out, even when I wanted to say yes.

And then I kept trying to make relationships work lmao. I don't know why I even bothered. I just wanted to be wrong about being aro, especially when it was a point of contention (aro and ace separately) with some of the relationships.

I'd probably have to meet another aro person of the exact same flavour of aromanticism to make it work, but even then the mental illness would just be a ticking time bomb. No one wants to be the recipient of FP 'affection', except maybe sometimes the fictional people in a certain fiction trope that winds up being fetishistic, even if it's not intended to insult real people (but sometimes it is). And it's just a reminder of how I was probably a big source of toxicity for probably half the people who have ever been close with me, if it's even half of how fiction portrays people with this symptom.

I dunno where I wanted to end this vent, so here's probably a good place. Just wanted to get this off my chest, because it just now felt like a pretty big revelation that my problems weren't related to romanticism, I've had purely platonic instances of this dating back to being an older kid, and more during high school, and I just never connected the two before now.

[wannabeallrounderonli]

sat, 9 oct,

learning to accept

I don't remember the last time I posted, but a lot happened since then.

Results were declared, I didn't make it to my favourite uni and it took me innumerable gloomy, heartbreaking nights, a few sad playlists and too many doughnuts with some serious deep life talks with myself to come to an acceptance for my reality. It hurt, real bad, so much that even a thought about it would drench my eyes, but somehow I couldn't digest it that I'll be spending another four years with my family, studying some engineering sh*t, while my friends would be out, enjoying their freedom. I was happy for them, I still am, but I was so dejected that I didn't know how to celebrate their success.

I wouldn't deny I tried channeling my sorrow to many unhealthy habits, but none of them helped, duh. So one fine day, I decided to pick my dusty ukulele that had been waiting for me for months, and I realised how relieving and therapeutic singing was to me. I got into reading, (which still seems impossible to the past me, but it's true, it's just about finding the right book, and just let the resonance happen), it helped too, I also met someone who was suffering from a fatal illness, and talking to them made me realise a lot of things that many of us fail to pay attention to for our entire lives, (I'm just 18 by the way, I don’t know why am I being so overdramatic about it, but anyway, continue reading). And so, I wanna share some stuff that I learned in the past few weeks, just incase there's some other overdramatic a** sitting behind the screen, just like me, looking for some help.

Morrie said, and I quote, "Once you learn how to die, you learn how to live. Learn to detach. Don't cling to things, because everything is impermanent. Experience life, experience every single emotion, all the good emotions, all the bad ones. Detachment doesn't mean you don't let the experience penetrate you. On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That's how you're able to leave it."

Emotions hurt, you have regrets, but it's all because you're stopping that emotion to be felt. It's in you, but you're busy pretending that it's not. You're rejecting a part of you, and you expect it to not hurt? As long as you're a good human, you can never fail in life. I agree I failed, not once, but countlessly, but it was a part of life, not the life itself, and strength to restart comes from the acceptance of failure, you become stronger when you can cry and say to yourself, 'failures are okay'. Be courageous enough to sit with that emotion, try to articulate it, dive into it, and only then can you say, "All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognise that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment."

It is okay to be yourself, it is alright to not be cool, it is okay if people aren't accepting of who you are, it is okay.

My blogs won't have some good college pictures, my college life won't be the way I imagined it to be, I'd be embarrassed to tell what college I'll be going to, I might not be studying some cool stuff like kids from elite colleges do, I won't be living the life I wanted to, but instead I'll be living the story of thousands of students who failed too but didn't give up. And that's who I am proud of. I don't need anyone to sympathise with me because I'm happy, to be trying to make the best of what I've got, I'm happy that I'm learning to accept myself, that I'm becoming more humble, that I gave myself the time to cry over what I didn't get and now I'm able to cherish what I received.

I don't think, anyone made it till here, but if you did, thanks a lot, and see you soon in the next. <33

Line/quote of the day: "बाबू मोशाय...जिंदगी बड़ी होनी चाहिए लंबी नहीं" ~Anand

[bobshollyworld-blog]

Weekly Roundup #4

Happy Monday, everyone! I told myself that I wouldn't hunt as hard this week as I did the week previously, and wouldn't you know it... I failed. 😫 I failed hard. I failed so hard. I didn't mean to get carried away, but I saw one thing that I liked and then another that I could use for project A, and then I couldn't get this without also getting that. You know how it goes. This week's haul was massive. Thirty-six, count 'em, THIRTY-FUCKING-SIX figures in what is the largest bounty so far. ost of them were in multipacks, but that just means I got more bang for my buck. I also got a few things that aren't figures this week as well. That's rare for me, I know, but when yer crafting a tiny plastic world of imagination, you need to, you know, actually craft that world. That's enough of the jibber-jabber; let's check out the haul for Weekly Roundup #4:

First up, we have a single loose figure. He's some sort of knight, judging from his armour, and I'm going to use him as a background piece. He's cool looking. No articulation other than his axe that goes up and down in his hands, but since he won't be the focus of any scenery, he's not hindered by his limitations. This is a Schleich figure, and is probably the only one I've ever owned.

What year is it? 2018? Then why do I keep buying twenty year old toys? Because they're my heart and soul, that's why. I actually already own a Black Cat, loose out of the package, which I bought eight or so years ago. She came in her packaging, so I have all her accessories and everything. I didn't buy these off of eBay for Black Cat. No, I bought this lot simply for the Jessica Drew Spider-Woman. I have this same figure, but the dark blue and white Julia Carpenter version. I don't know if I've mentioned it previously, but I'm not a fan of Spider-Man AT ALL, but I own more of his action figures than any other character. That collection includes his allies and villains, of which this is my second Jessica Drew figure, with the other being an older Marvel Legends figure. I'll likely resell the Black Cats just to free up space.

I'm not super pressed on these WWE zombies, but I told myself that I would buy all of the third wave so I can make an awesome Halloween diorama. I would've waited until closer to that holiday to scoop them up, because Five Below has a healthy stock of them, but as you can tell from the photo these were on clearance at Target. Sure, I only saved a wee bit over a dollar for each figure, but that's three plus dollars that can go towards something more important. I'm only missing one of the set of six and that's the 'Phenomenal One'. I'll own him soon enough and I'll get started on that diorama.

Here's that bit of random that I have to get every week. I saw these little toilets in Five Below one day when I was with my kids, but they were five bucks a piece, and the way my wallet is set up... Let's just say that they stayed where I saw them. Then I saw more at a different store, and they were cheaper, but I couldn't justify the price still. When I saw them in Target on clearance, I grabbed two. I don't know if that's enough. I bought them simply to set up some bathroom scenery. Their for 5"/6" figures, so my new favourite childeen won't get to experience them, but you can't have yer cake and eat it too. The Ready Player One figures were bought at FYE, for dumb cheap. For those not familiar with the slang, in this case "dumb cheap" translates to just over two bucks for them. I had been eyeing them in Target for a few weeks, because they're 1:18 scale and they're not what most people collect, but they were too much at Target, even after they hit clearance. I'm glad I saw them when and where I did. I scooped them right up.

I was trying to post these photos from least excited about to most excited about, and to a certain extent I've succeeded at that, but I'm actually very excited about this lot. They were all bought at Collectors Corner, as was most of the remaining items. I bought both the Mace and Lando as potential fodder for modifications to the Rage I bought a few weeks ago. Sadly, I couldn't get Lando's head off, and Mace's didn't fit onto Rage's body, so I still at the drawing board with Rage. They're cool figures. The Lando is probably my second or third favourite figure that I bought this week. He's damn cool. Lieutenant Yar was just a random purchase. I have some ideas for her, but we'll see.

So here's the thing: you can't collect 3.75" figures without at least getting a whiff of G.I. Joe. That brand is inarguably the one that made the 1:18 scale line what it is. With that being said, Joes are dumb expensive. Like, really bloody expensive. And they're hard to find in the wild. That's why lines like Lanard's The Corps, which has been riding the wave of Hasbro's Joes almost since the beginning, is an excellent fill-in. The two three-packs of figures weren't even twelve bucks. I'm not sure right now, but I don't even think they were ten bucks total. That's insane. Then there's the US Army figures. I didn't even care too much about them, but I wanted their accessories and setting. They'll blend in perfectly with the other soldiers.

We're getting down to the nitty gritty here. Fun fact: I've never typed the phrase 'nitty gritty' in my phone prior to the previous sentence, but auto correct knew that that was what I was going for after only typing in the first word. I digress. If you've been paying attention to the way I do the photos, I typically keep DC figures with their brand, and I do the same for Marvel. This week I've got a healthy amount of each, and I wasn't entirely sure which brand deserved to go on last. Ultimately, I went with Marvel because of volume. Simple as that. Now that that's out of the way, I would like to add that these DC offerings are fine figures. The Hawkman is fantastic. As the same with all the DC figures I've bought, I notice that they lack the same size and articulation as Marvel, but that doesn't stop them from being good toys. Hawkman looks cool in animated form. I honestly can't imagine him being in a more realistic sculpt. By the way, everything in this photo is from Collectors Corner. The last time I was there, there were three of the Green Lantern film two-packs, but this time there were only the two. I honestly only went back to pick up all three. The other characters were Kilowag and Ranakar. I'm disappointed that I missed out on him, but I'll get him eventually, along with some other Lantern Corps members.

Another thing Collectors Corner had an abundance of the first time I went was 3.75" Thor-related characters. Last time I picked up a bunch, but they also had multiple actually Thors that I didn't pick up because I didn't really like the look of Chris Hemsworth. They didn't have any this time, although I had decided to buy them if they had. While I was searching high and low for Kilowag, I came across most of what you see in this photo buried at the bottom of the bin they were in. The Spider-Men are meh, but the Lokis are amazing, and the Daredevil is the best figure I got this week. He actually was on a peg, so he was easier to find. The Spider-Man Homecoming two-pack was found at TJ Maxx, and what a find it was. There were three of them, and I was contemplating getting at least one more but decided against it. I haven't seen that film, but the suit Spidey is rocking is fucking sexy. Vulture is Vulture, and he's cool, too, but I was more impressed with the Spider-Man. It's crazy; although I don't care about Spider-Man, he's still managed to be the most numerous figure in my quickly growth 1:18 scale universe.

Well, there you have it folks. Another week, a other crazy, THRIFTY haul. I'm proud of myself, and I mean it this time when I say next week I'm going to take it easy on the figures. I'll be super busy with work so I won't have any time for figure hunting. 😉. Have a good week, y'all.

-Bob Hollywood, 6 August, 2018