#psychiatric suitcase

[luc3]

Dear Psychiatric Suitcase

Very silent because I've been having a sort of spiritual/psychic liver crisis for a week (I went back to the acupuncturist who worked on repressed emotions, among other things and since then, strangely (:D) I'm not in very good shape.

The day after this appointment, I went on a hike that could have ended very badly for me. The very tiny path on the side of the mountain, extremely slippery and muddy due to the rains of recent weeks, the ravine was almost a sheer drop of several hundreds of meters, I thought countless times that I was going to slip, I didn't have the right shoes, we always say to ourselves "so far so good", and we always think that this will be the last passage difficult, that it can't last, but I at least did 3 km of descent like a waking nightmare. My recklessness and the adrenaline rush which must have lasted 2 hours put a big blow on my head afterwards and I was stunned for at least 2 days when it subsided. I nevertheless took some nice photos (before.) Laughs.

Otherwise, nothing very new. As it's not the right time at all, I decided to plant some seeds. I just received the last Teufelskunst seedbox and most of what I'm going to plant comes from there. In fact, and in view of the card drawing that I just did this morning, it seems that these plantations are still rather inspired. I'm trying the Rainbow Chili. We love chili peppers. We love Solanaceae for their unwavering, superb and resilient radiance in all circumstances <3 I try the Verbena to please the Good Friends I have who live on the opposite hill. (Don't ask me.) I'm trying Rosemary because I don't have any anymore and I've never tried it from seeds (I've always taken cuttings.) There is also necessarily a seed of a Datura which comes from India (a Metel I think but of which I do not know the shape of the flowers.) There is even one (D. Inoxia) which replanted itself "by itself" in one of my pots of Solanum Nigrum. I then dreamed of a beautiful young woman who woke up in the sun in a bed of pale, vaporous veils and stretched herself, telling me that she was very happy to be there. It's always the same woman, the one through whom the spirit of Datura is seen. She was just much younger than usual. I'm going to replant some grass for the cats ! And trying a Mandrake, it's too late and there won't have been any cold germination (there was no cold this winter), but I'm not going to put the seeds in the freezer, this way of doing this annoys me. So I doubt she'll be willing to come this year but who knows.

Et voilà !

[shmaptainwrites]

𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐇 [𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐒𝐎𝐍]

PAIRINGS — James Wilson x fem!Reader

SUMMARY — James and Reader go to a medical conference together and are forced to share a room, but after one bad night's sleep a prank war is waged

WARNINGS — a stripper? porn mentions? ig?

NOTE — Okay for this one I gotta shout out @shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey for helping me work out some kinks with the ending and providing the middle picture, but I really love how this turned out and I hope you guys like this silly one shot as much as I do

“Jesus Christ you drive like a grandma,” you yawned, dragging your suitcase through the hotel doors. 

“I don’t drive like a grandma; I drive the speed limit,” James asserted and you rolled your eyes. 

“We would have been here ages ago if you’d let me take the wheel.” 

“No we would have been in body bags,” James retorted. “Come on, it’s late, let's just check into our rooms and get this over with.” 

You nodded in agreement and made your way over to the singular receptionist, informing her you had booked two rooms in advance under both yours and the hospital's name.

“Um, I’m only seeing one reservation here,” she said. “This is for the medical conference right?” 

You both nodded your heads, confused as to what could be happening. 

“If you don’t have another one under the hospital do you have a spare room? Anything will do, we can just expense it,” James suggested. 

“Unfortunately not,” the lady shook her head. “We’re fully booked. There’s just the one room.” 

You pursed your lips and looked over at James with a frown before turning your attention back to the receptionist. 

“So you’re telling me not only did I have to drive with grandma here all the way from New Jersey, now I have to sleep with him?” 

“I wish there was something we could do, maybe you can get your hospital to contact the hotel to get credit or some reimbursement.” 

“I think I’ll need psychiatric care for this, but thanks for the offer,” you said sarcastically, picking up your bag and moving away, letting James take care of the rest of the check in. After a few minutes, he came up to you and handed you a hotel key, pointing to the room number on it. 

“Psychiatric care? Was that really necessary?” he asked. “And you’ve slept on the couch in my office, this cannot be that bad.” 

“Yeah, but you weren’t on the couch with me genius,” you rolled your eyes. “This is gonna be a long few days.” 

“You’re telling me,” James raised his brows as you entered the elevator together. 

Once you got to your room, as if sharing wasn’t bad enough they put you in a cramped one with a queen sized bed. 

“I’m gonna choose to ignore the glaring close proximity of this space and go get ready in the washroom. Any objections?” 

James pressed his lips together and shook his head saying he’d get changed out in the room while you were in there. 

You took your time, so you’d have some excuse for acclimating yourself to your sleeping situation. Brushing your teeth and caring for your hair and skin made the extension of time a little easier to justify. When you were finally changed and completely ready, you unlocked the door and stepped out of the washroom watching as James’ eyes widened at the sight of you. 

“What is that on your head?” he pointed. 

“It’s a bonnet,” you said simply. 

“A bonnet? Like, as in baby’s bonnet?” 

“No,” you shook your head, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “A bonnet as in a hair bonnet so it doesn’t get frizzy when I sleep?” 

“And what’s that on your teeth?” he asked, noticing the other interesting contraption you had in your mouth. 

“A mouth guard, James, seriously are you gonna ask me where I got my pyjamas next?” 

“You talk with a lisp when that thing’s in your mouth,” he pointed as he walked past you to the washroom.

“Yeah, thanks Captain Obvious,” you rolled your eyes and moved over to the bed, pulling back the blankets and slipping underneath the covers. 

You glanced at the clock and saw the late time, figuring it was probably a good idea to get some sleep since you’d have an early morning. How naive you were. 

It took James less than ten minutes to be done with what he needed to do in the washroom before he came to join you and it took even less time for him to fall asleep. 

And with sleep came the most monstrous snores you’d ever heard. You weren’t sure how much time had passed but it could have been an eternity of you staring up at the ceiling, your eyes twitching, wishing for sleep, but unable to rest while laying down next to a fog horn. 

Eventually you figured your best bet was to either suffocate yourself or James with a pillow, but settled instead on using it to cover your ears. 

When the sun peeked through the curtains and you could feel James shift next to you, you turned around to watch him closely while he woke up. 

“Good morning?” he yawned and looked at you with a hint of confusion. 

“Yeah, maybe for you,” you scoffed. 

“You look like hell,” he commented, noticing the tiredness in your eyes and sluggishness of your demeanour. 

You didn’t say anything, simply throwing the pillow in his face before getting up and pulling off your bonnet and mouthguard. 

“Where are you going?” James asked. 

“I’ll see you at breakfast,” you waved at him and grabbed your hotel key and a coat, not bothering to change out of your sweatpants before leaving the room. 

James spent the rest of the morning a little confused by your actions, but he put it behind him and instead took a quick shower, getting dressed, brushing his teeth, and shaving before heading downstairs for the hotel’s breakfast. 

It was there that he ran into you, still in a sleep t-shirt and sweatpants with a large jacket overtop. 

“Where did you go?” he asked, walking up to you. 

“To get you these,” you threw him a box and he caught it with a slight fumble before looking down to see what it was.

“Nose strips? Why?” 

“Because you snore louder than my maternal grandfather mixed with a foghorn. That’s why.” 

James looked offended, “I do not snore,” he insisted.

“You think I would look like this if you didn’t, Wilson?” you pointed to yourself. 

“I’ve had three wives, I think one of them would have told me about this,” he said. 

“Well maybe you developed sleep apnea, I don’t know,” you threw your hands up in the air. “Just use the nose strips and go to the sleep clinic when we get back to New Jersey. Wouldn’t want wife number four dealing with that.” 

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he said, shoving the small box in his pocket. 

“I couldn't care less, I am running on zero hours of sleep so what you are gonna do is get me something to eat so I can take a shower and pop back three caffeine pills and hope for the best.” 

James didn’t have much of a chance to argue with you so he listened, making you a breakfast sandwich and wrapping it in some napkins before moving to go eat his own food. 

When you came back downstairs, you looked a lot better. James assumed the shower had helped a little bit with waking you up, but getting through a whole day of seminars would be tricky. 

“You feeling better?” he asked, handing you the sandwich. 

“I will after I drink this,” you held up an energy drink, but James quickly snatched it from you, reading the caffeine content. 

“How many pills did you take?” he asked. 

“I don’t know like four?” you said. 

“You can’t drink this, you’re gonna have a heart attack,” he said, throwing the drink in the trash. 

“Wilson!” you whined. “That was my wake up juice.” 

“I’ve seen you pull an all nighter and then do back to back cancer patient consults, you’re going to be fine,” he assured you. “I have to make sure I get you back to New Jersey in one piece.” 

“That’s rich coming from the person who broke me in the first place,” you snorted and James rolled his eyes before nudging you and motioning for you to follow him into your first seminar room. 

You were greeted first by some of the people at the registration table as you grabbed your schedules and name tags, hanging them around your neck. 

“Are you planning on going to Dr. Joyner’s talk on this new joint treatment?” James asked, pointing to his schedule. 

“I don’t know, I just figured I’d follow you around everywhere,” you admitted. “You know I hate coming to these things, I only do it because I have to.” 

“I thought you were coming to support me,” he frowned. 

“Well, yeah that too I guess,” you waved your hand dismissively. “But otherwise Cuddy forced me to come so here I am.” 

“Well, I think we should go because it might be a good thing to introduce for some of our breast cancer patients,” he explained. 

“Whatever you say Dr. Wilson,” you sighed. 

Your disinterested nature was, however, somewhat of a farce. In reality you did think Dr. Joyner’s treatment methods had proven to be very successful and could be worth applying in your own practice, but if you seemed too happy and excited your eventual retaliation against James for your lack of sleep last night combined with him throwing out your energy drink would seem less justified. 

The talk was interesting just as you had predicted and you and James both took ample notes, planning to corner Dr. Joyner to get her information to ask further questions about how it might look to implement the treatment at Princeton Plainsboro. 

“I have to moderate a panel during the next block,” James said. “Do you want to come, or is there another session that interests you more.” 

“No I’ll come with,” you nodded, sensing this would be the time to seize your opportunity. 

It was simple, silly even, because sitting in the second row from the front gave you just enough cover to discreetly flip off James as he was talking, making him look at you incredibly confused and lose his train of thought. 

“Dr. WIlson?” one of the panelists asked. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yes, sorry,” James apologized, hoping the red tinge on his ears wasn’t noticeable. He continued speaking but kept looking back over at you, knowing he couldn’t do anything without a whole room of doctors seeing. 

You seemed to have distracted James enough for there to be a few embarrassing moments where he fumbled over his words, possibly thinking in his mind what he could do to get back with you, but drawing a blank and in turn getting distracted from his job of fielding questions for the panelists. 

After the session was over and you broke off for lunch, James came to find you only to see you had slipped away into the masses, all a part of your design of course. 

Knowing he would want an explanation for your behaviour you figured you’d grab your food first and sit down, waiting for him to find you. 

Just as you had predicted, he found you and pulled out the seat next to you, sitting down. 

“What the hell was that for?” he asked. “Is this still about the snoring? I told you I don’t snore.”

“Actually,” you said loudly. “This is about the fact that you gave me-,” 

James quickly rushed forward and covered your mouth, knowing whatever could come out of it would not be good so you fought back by stomping down on his foot, watching as he let out a loud enough yelp to cause some heads to turn. 

You removed his hand from your mouth and said, 

“The finger was for all the snoring, that was for my energy drink.” 

“You’re a child,” he winced in pain, holding his foot in his hands. “A child with a mean stomp.” 

“I’m just evening out the scales Wilson, don’t worry, we’re even now.” 

“Oh no,” he shook his head. “You better watch your back, this is not over.” 

You smirked, “Am I sensing we’re about to make this conference ten times more interesting.” 

“To stay on theme, you started it,” he stuck his tongue out and you grabbed it before he could pull it back into his mouth. 

“Don’t underestimate me, Wilson. You forget I have to sleep in the same bed as you. Nowhere is safe.” 

You let go and wiped your hand off on his shirt before turning back to your food. This is exactly what the weekend needed. Just a little bit more entertainment. 

You were on your guard for the rest of the day, watching James’ every movement, but nothing ever came. 

Even once you had made your way back upstairs to your room and were getting ready side by side in the washroom, there wasn’t even the simplest retaliation or splashing water on you from the faucet. 

“What’s that?” James asked, pointing to the container you were holding. 

“Oh it’s just a serum,” you shrugged. “You should try it.”

“I’m good thanks,” he shook his head and looked back at his toothbrush. 

You weren’t gonna take no for an answer. 

“Come on James it’s not battery acid,” you rolled your eyes, trying to squeeze some from the dropper on his face but he quickly covered himself and tried to push you away, but wasn’t fast enough to see your hand coming from the opposite direction, squirting the solution all over his face. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, while you grinned in victory, rubbing in the serum over his forehead and cheeks. 

“Why are you like this?” he asked. 

“I thought you knew, we’ve been friends for long enough,” you chuckled. “Come on, today was boring, let me have some fun and do your skincare.”

“And why should I trust you with glycolic acid near my face?” he asked. 

“Oh, someone knows their stuff,” you chuckled. “You should trust me because it’s like only 7% strength and won’t hurt you unless it gets in your eyes or mouth or you have a sunburn.”

James opened his eyes again and couldn’t help but smile a little when he saw how much fun you were having. If anything it would help take his mind off his big presentation the next day. 

“Alright, you win this time,” he said. “But don’t think I’m gonna make this a habit.”

“That’s what they all say, just wait, you’ll change your mind.”

You got him to lean against the counter, pulling out a few things from your makeup bag and then taking the next thing out putting some of the solution on your hands before rubbing it under his eyes and around his forehead. 

“Hey watch it,” he swatted your hand that looked like it was coming for his eye. 

“Oh stop, I was just trying to smooth out your eyebrows,” you squished his cheeks with your fingers. 

Next was an exfoliating scrub and you watched as he scrunched his nose at the feeling on his skin. 

“Stop being such a baby,” you chuckled. “It’s not that bad.”

“Yeah, well excuse me for not thinking this is the sequence of events that would occur when I heard we’d need to share a room.”

You smiled to yourself, “Me neither, but this is kind of fun. Like a sleepover.”

James rolled his eyes at your comment.

“Yeah for you maybe. It feels like my face is getting molested right now.”

“Stop being so whiny,” you flicked his cheek. “Now wash your face off.”

He happily obliged, getting all the gritty textured product off his face before letting you do the finishing touches. 

It seemed to be taking a while so James decided to ask, 

“Are you done yet?”

“I’ve been done for five minutes,” you chuckled. “I’ve just been rubbing moisturizer all over your face to see how long you’d let me go for.”

James glared at you with a small hint of amusement in his eyes before turning around to leave, escorted out by your giggles. 

You finished getting ready in the washroom, only coming out when you realized you didn’t know where your bonnet was. 

“Wilson, have you seen my bonnet?” you peeked your head out of the washroom and asked. 

Seeing it on the bed he grabbed it and brought it over to you, placing it on your head and over your eyes like an oversized hat. You lifted it up to get a better look at him, noticing he was wearing one of the nose strips you bought him alone with a pair of glasses. 

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” you commented. 

“I don’t,” he said simply. “I wear contacts, this is just for the evenings.”

“The things you learn when you’re forced to share a room with your colleague,” you hummed while adjusting the bonnet on your head. After you were content with its placement, you went to join James in the bed, both of you taking a moment to really observe the other and all of their sleeping gear. 

“You know I thought I was high maintenance,” James noted. 

It may have looked like overkill, but it never felt like overkill when an eye mask and some ear plugs would give you a good night’s sleep. 

“Yeah, you still look like a grandma,” you retorted, mostly a comment on him doing the crossword in bed with his glasses perched lower down on his nose. 

Climbing into the bed you turned off the lamp on your side and lowered your eye mask, allowing James to continue his crossword while you slept. You wished him a goodnight with a yawn and figured that would be the end of it. And it was…until it wasn’t. 

— 

“Wilson, what the hell did you do?” you asked harshly, coming over to him at breakfast and holding out your ringing phone. “Non-stop since six in the morning!”

“You haven’t picked them up?” he asked. “What if it’s an emergency? You really should take care of that,” he said while serving himself some fruit salad. 

With the next ring you caved, wondering exactly what it was he had done and when you listened to the person talking on the other side your eyes went wide before hanging up the phone. 

“I need to change my number,” you said, shocked. “You put out an ad for me? What the hell did it say?” 

“Oh, I don’t know who did it,” he lied. “But I think I came across something that said: Call me to make your dreams come true. 100% satisfaction guaranteed.”

“Oh my God! Ew, ew, ew! Wilson that is messed up!” 

“I didn’t do it,” he continued lying. 

“Oh cut the crap,” you rolled your eyes. “You picked a bad day to retaliate. Remember, you’ve got your presentation which means I have the upper hand.” 

James looked at you warningly, 

“You asked for it, Wilson. Prepare to deal with the consequences,” you pinched his cheek and left to go and grab some breakfast and then deal with your phone company to try and change numbers. 

As if James was not already nervous for the presentation of his paper, you had just gravely upped the stakes. 

He was the first speaker of the day so he decided to get in early, only to see you chatting with one of the organizers. He quickly walked over to meet you, but before he got there you had shaken the organizers hand and a deal was sealed. 

“Ah Dr. Wilson, I just met your colleague here,” Dr. Mwanza smiled. “She just offered to do the introductions for you this morning.” 

“Oh, great,” he forced a smile, trying to seem pleased with the outcome, knowing it couldn’t be good for him. 

“You made the right decision, Dr. Mwanza. No one knows James here like I do,” you wrapped an arm around James’ shoulder and kissed his cheek, watching as he turned beet red from the contact. 

“Well, you two seem very close. I can’t see anyone more fitting for the job.” 

You smiled and waved goodbye and watched as the hall began to fill with more and more doctors. 

“You ready, Wilson?” 

“Not anymore,” he groaned and went up to the stage where his notes were, preparing himself for whatever it was you were planning on throwing at him. 

Within the next ten minutes, everyone had returned from breakfast and were sitting in their seats, waiting for things to begin. 

Dr. Mwanza handed you a microphone and you stood up on the stage, looking back at James who was wringing his hands in his seat. 

“Good morning everyone,” you welcomed and began introducing yourself. “I’m here today to introduce you to my colleague, Dr. James Evan Wilson, who has done some fascinating research on cancer patient care. Now since you guys don’t know James here like I do, I’ll stick to the highlight reel and then we can let him talk.”

There was a small chuckle from the audience before you continued. 

“James went to McGill for his undergraduate and then proceeded to do medical school at Columbia and then a specialization in oncology at UPenn. He’s worked at Princeton Plainsboro for the past ten years and is the head of the department while also simultaneously providing consultations for the diagnostic team. On a more personal level, he’s painfully single and looking for a real connection so make sure to corner him at lunch if you know what I mean.” 

James simply squeezed his eyes shut and prayed you wouldn’t say more, but it still kept coming. 

“But if snoring is a deal breaker for you, you may want to skip out on that. Anyways, I’ve probably embarrassed him enough for now, so I’d like you to join me in welcoming Dr. James Wilson.”

The room clapped and James used whatever energy he had left in him to stand up and move forward, taking the microphone from you with a glare and then fixing it to the stand on the podium while you sat behind him on one of the chairs on the stage. 

As much as James was embarrassed by your previous comments, at least you hadn’t undermined his work, so he used his best acting skills and began to share about his paper and all of the research he had been doing over the past few years. 

When his talk was finished there was a period for asking questions and you could sense James wanted to drag things out as long as possible so he wouldn’t have to deal with the fallout of your comments about being single. 

Either way, a break finally had to come and his presentation came to an end, allowing you to finally see the fruits of your labour. 

It felt as if for the rest of the day there was a line of people waiting to talk to James, granted a few had questions about his paper that they wanted to discuss further, but most were testing the waters to see if getting a date was a possibility. 

After maybe the 20th person had come up to talk to him, he finally started saying something else, seeing an opportunity to get back at you. 

He waited until you were around to put his plan into play, coming up to you and wrapping his arms around you from behind. 

“Wilson, what are you doing?” you asked. 

“Payback,” he whispered, kissing your cheek before turning your chin so you were looking back at him. Your foreheads were now resting against each other and he quietly whispered. “You forgot we have witnesses who’ve seen us go into the same room and I’m a very convincing actor. Now everyone’s gonna wonder why you told the whole room your boyfriend was painfully single.”

“Well played, Wilson. Game recognizes game. And just because you figured out a way to weasel yourself out of this, I’ll let you have it, no fighting back.”

“Good because I’d probably get a pretty bad reputation and then get reported to Cuddy for harassment otherwise,” he reflected. 

“Yeah, I’m not that mean,” you patted his cheek. “But as usual-,” 

“Watch my back, you’ve got something else up your sleeve. Well, so do I.” 

“Best conference ever,” you grinned and James chuckled at your childish attitude. He would have been perfectly content taking in the content like the other doctors, but he had to admit this was a lot more fun and you brought a pretty good challenge.

By the end of the second day, you had managed to figure out to route all of your calls to James’ phone, forcing him to deal with the problem he had created for you, but he had also come back just as hard by sprinkling glitter in your purse when you weren’t looking, and knowing when you were in a rush to find something you’d dump it all out on your lap creating a mess that would be a nightmare to clean up. And as if the glitter wasn’t enough he told anyone who would listen that you’d visited a strip club last night. 

You walked back up to your hotel room after having gotten separate dinners, (you had called in for James’ reservation and pushed it by an hour), finding it hard to fight a smile while he looked at you extremely annoyed. 

“I don’t suppose you had anything to do with my reservation,” he asked you in the elevator. 

“A magician never reveals her secrets,” you shrugged. 

“I had invited Dr. Joyner out to dinner, but I’m guessing you didn’t know that,” he said. 

“No, but that makes it ten times better,” you laughed. “God what did you tell her?” 

“I didn’t know what the hell was happening, what was I supposed to tell her?” he asked. 

“Well if it was a date you could have used it as an excuse to go somewhere more intimate than the most crowded restaurant this side of Boston,” you shrugged. 

“It wasn’t a date,” he said when the elevator doors opened. 

“That look on your face is telling me otherwise,” you pointed to his red tinged ears. 

“It wasn’t a date,” he repeated. 

“Why are you so set on convincing me it wasn’t?” you turned around and asked him before entering your room. 

“I-You-,” he cut himself off and shut his mouth. 

“Smart move,” you raised your brows and unlocked the door, pushing it open. 

“What’s all this?” James asked, stepping inside, noticing a few balloons and streamers along with a container and gift bag on the counter. 

“Okay, I might have pushed your reservation because I felt bad for embarrassing you on your big day.”

“You did this? I thought you had dinner plans?” he asked. 

“This was it,” you motioned to the room. “Well I had to go out to get some of the stuff and then I got lost and hungry so I got some food and then I did this.”

James walked over to the container and opened it, seeing a small cake inside that was decorated with icing and read:

Congrats on the paper Dr. Wilson

“Awe, well I guess you do have a heart,” James chuckled. “Thank you, this is really sweet.” 

“Come on, we’re roommates,” you shrugged. “It was nothing.” 

“Should I open this too?” James asked motioning to the gift bag. 

You nodded your head and he peeked inside past the wrapping paper chuckling when he saw what was inside. 

“I had to find a build-a-bear for that,” you explained. “I had a vision and I had a feeling no one else would be able to execute it.” 

“A grandma doctor bear,” he said, pulling out the stuffed animal. “It’s perfect.”

He placed the plushie down next to the cake and came over to give you a big hug, followed by a kiss to your cheek. 

“Even though we’ve been kind of in the midst of a really intense prank war I am still really proud of you,” you said while he was still holding on to you. “And you’re right, I didn’t come here because Cuddy forced me to, I wanted to be here when you had your moment, even though I kind of ruined it.” 

“No, you didn’t ruin it,” he assured you. “It wasn’t lost on me how you didn’t insult my practice or my intelligence, just my personal life.” 

“Yeah, cause that’s so much better,” you laughed, finally pulling away from the hug. 

“In this case, it was probably the nicest way you could have embarrassed me,” he tapped your nose with his finger. “And I’ve had a lot of fun, probably more fun than if we hadn’t started this ridiculous back and forth.” 

“So are you saying the game’s still on?” you asked. 

“Oh, definitely,” he nodded. “It’s not over until we’ve checked out of the hotel.” 

“And that is the best present you could have given me, you big snoring grandma doctor,” you hugged him again and he shook his head with a chuckle. “Now come on, let’s stop wasting time and eat this cake, according to the receptionist it's from the best bakery in Boston.” 

You grabbed two forks from the table and handed one to James while he took the cake and brought it over to the bed, holding the container in one hand while you both went for it and took large bites of the rich dessert. 

“This more than makes up for all the pranks, I’m gonna forgive you right now for all the stuff you have up your sleeve before you even do it.” 

“Sorry, what did you say?” you asked, your mouth full of cake, completely distracted by the dessert. 

“Nothing,” James chuckled and watched as you grabbed another big forkful and offered it to him. 

He tried to fit it all in his mouth, but you had overestimated his jaw capacity and he was only able to get so much in before the rest fell back into the container. 

You pressed your lips together trying to bite back a laugh at the sight of James’ overstuffed cheeks and it seemed like he was trying to do the same, only worse because he ended up spitting some cake crumbs on you. 

“Jesus, James,” you groaned with a laugh, wiping the crumbs off your face. “That was gross.” 

He retorted with a garbled response you couldn’t understand because of the food in his mouth and your confused features prompted him to swallow before speaking again. 

“I’m sorry, but you just shoved half a cake into my mouth,” he chuckled. 

“What happened to gratitude, I was feeding you, it’s a sign of love,” you exaggerated and so he copied your actions, getting a large piece on his fork and holding it up for you to eat, which you did much more masterfully than he did. 

“There,” he said. “Is that enough love for you?” 

“Plenty,” you nodded your head and watched as he placed the container down on the bed with his fork inside before reaching out for your face wiping some icing from beside your lips with his thumb. “Thanks,” you smiled, hoping he couldn’t feel your cheeks heat up slightly by his actions. 

By the time the cake was half finished, you both couldn’t eat another bite and decided to save some for your last evening in the hotel. 

After packing things up in the mini fridge, you began your routine for bed, watching as James stood in front of the mirror and carefully laid a strip across his nose before taking off his contacts and putting on his glasses instead. 

“What are you looking at?” he asked. 

“Nothing,” you shrugged. “You just look cute like that.” 

“Cute?” he raised a brow and looked over at you and you nodded. 

“Like a little kicked puppy.”

“That’s cute?” he now became concerned with your comparison. “Kicked puppies are not cute, that's just sad.”

“Now you definitely look like one,” you pointed to his distressed face and he pressed his lips into a line, unimpressed. 

“Just be quiet and put your mouthguard in.”

“That doesn’t shut me up, James, just gives me a lisp.”

“Yeah, and it makes you look like a dork,” he retorted. 

“That’s rich coming from the guy with glasses and a nose strip.” 

He chose to ignore your comment, knowing the banter would go on forever if he didn’t, and instead focused on brushing his teeth and then climbing into bed with a crossword puzzle. 

A short while after, you followed, climbing in on your side and turning so you could face James, observing him with his newspaper. 

A part of you wanted to make a comment about his grandmotherly behaviour, but you settled on watching him for a few moments before pulling your eye mask over your face and going to sleep. 

James turned his head towards you as soon as he didn’t feel your gaze on him any more. He smiled to himself, content with the scene in front of him.

—

“When did you even have time to do this?!” 

You tried to bite back a laugh while putting on a touch of concealer under your eyes while looking into a small portable mirror you had brought with you. 

James’ annoyed voice from the bathroom was only amplified when he walked out and saw your facade slowly start to crumble at the sight of him with baby powder blown all over his face and hair. 

“I just took a shower.” 

“Are you sure, cause you’ve got a little something…” you motioned to his face and he closed his eyes, inhaling deeply before letting out a cough from inhaling some of the powder. 

“You’re getting me breakfast,” he said simply, returning to the washroom to take a second shower. 

You burst out laughing once he had fully re-entered the washroom, taking a minute before continuing to get ready and then go downstairs and get some breakfast for you both. 

Meanwhile, upstairs James was planning his comeback, figuring it would be good to go out with a bang. 

You were totally unsuspecting, sitting in the first session, twiddling your thumbs while James took notes from the speaker. 

You wished the speaker would talk about something more interesting so it would be easier to fight off the sleep that was coming, but before that could happen a man with a package went up to the organizer and whispered something in his ear. They paused the speech and the man made an announcement asking if you were in the room. 

Confused, you raised your hand while he informed you that he had a package for you. 

Unfortunately, by the time you realized what was happening, it was too late and the strip club music began to play while the man undressed in front of you. 

You turned over to look at James, mortified, but he simply pulled out a digital camera and snapped a picture of what was happening while you gathered your senses and stood up, pushing the mostly unclothed man in front of you away and informing him he needed to leave. 

James had his lips pressed together to hide a smile and you gingerly apologized to everyone for the mistake before sitting back down, wishing the ground would swallow you up whole. 

“I am never going to live that down,” you whispered harshly to James. 

“Thought we needed to end the conference with a bang,” he shrugged. “Don’t worry I told Cuddy to take you out of the conference rotation for a while so people forget about it by the next time we’re at one of these things.” 

“Oh, you’re such a saint,” you said sarcastically. 

You were thankful that since it was the last day the conference was scheduled to end a little earlier so you could go out, get a nice dinner and pretend to forget about that fact that James had called a stripper for you in the middle of a panel.

As an apology, James offered to pay for dinner and you didn’t hesitate to accept the offer, because as much as you both took a shine to pranking each other and making each other miserable, there was always something to sweeten the deal at the end. 

“God, all that pranking was exhausting,” you sighed while making the walk back to the hotel, arm in arm with James. 

“Maybe we should watch a movie or something to relax?” he suggested. “There must be something good on pay-per-view.” 

“I could get behind that,” you nodded. “Get ready, watch a movie, and then an early night?” 

“Yeah to go along with waking up early in the morning to drive back to Jersey.” 

You chuckled a little and removed your arm from being linked with his, instead grabbing his hand out of his pocket and dragging him toward the hotel, not wanting to waste any time getting into more comfortable clothes. 

You unlocked the door to the hotel room, letting out a surprised squeal when you felt James hands on your lower back tickling you and pushing you into the room. 

You grabbed your pyjamas and quickly ran off to the washroom before James could and got changed, removing your makeup and putting your hair in your bonnet. 

When you came out, James was already changed and ready, flipping through the movie options to see what was available. 

“Hey, why does it say I rented six hours worth of porn?” he looked over at you and you pressed your lips together shrugging innocently. “You know that gets charged to the hospital, Cuddy is gonna see this.” 

“I think I did what I had to do to get back at you for what you did this afternoon. You really thought I was gonna let you have the last laugh?” you asked, sitting on your side of the bed. “And the room was originally under your name so she won’t think it’s me so don’t try and flip this around on me.” 

“Just for that I get to pick the movie and we’re watching your least favourite,” he flipped through the options and clicked on a movie he knew you hated, and before your could protest and grab your earplugs and eye mask he confiscated them saying you could get them back when the movie was over. You’d have to suffer through it. 

Neither of you enjoyed the movie that evening, but you loved the back and forth nevertheless, no moment was safe, there was always a chance one of you would disturb the other’s peace. 

After the movie was over, James went straight to bed while you stayed up just a little bit later, neatly packing some of your things away and as you watched James curled under the blankets you felt your hand grab a pen and paper from the desk and beginning to write a note, folding it nicely and putting it in James’ bag for him to find later, finally ready to spend one last night in this godforsaken hotel before heading back home to New Jersey.

—

“Have you seen my wallet, I can’t find it anywhere?” James asked, patting down his pockets to make sure he hadn’t put it there and forgotten. 

“Did you check your work bag?” you asked, gathering your things together. 

He shook his head and stuck his arm in his bag, digging around for his wallet until he felt something a little unfamiliar, looking down and noticing a paper he hadn’t seen before. 

Curiously, he pulled it out and unfolded it, reading its contents quietly out loud. 

“Dear James, I’m not normally shy, but spending time with you these past few days has shown me something that I think I could get used to seeing. You probably haven’t heard this a lot, but I think you’re as beautiful on the inside as you are on the outside. The way you carry yourself, your eloquence, your demeanor, are all things that have inspired me to write to you. I’m not very good at expressing myself in words so I hope this short poem will do the trick. Roses are red, violets are blue, I think I’ve fallen in love with you. Love, your secret admirer.”

James looked at the paper confused then up at you with a disappointed look in his eyes. 

“Seriously? Another one, I thought you got me last night?” he asked. “This is a little much, a secret admirer, like who would even…” his voice trailed off as he watched you look at him. He had to admit the look you were giving him was similar to what you’d look like when you’d bested him in a prank, but there was a hint of something else past your eyes that he hadn’t quite noticed until now. “Wait…this is from you. Like really from you.” 

You nodded your head slowly, biting the inside of your cheek. 

“You mean it?” 

You nodded your head again. 

“Seriously?” 

Your lips were pressed in a thin line when you nodded your head for a third time. 

Instead of addressing you, James pulled out his phone and dialled a number. You were about to turn around and pretend the whole interaction hadn’t happened when you felt your phone buzz in your purse. 

Grabbing it, you saw James’ number flash on the screen so you answered it, albeit confused. 

“Hello?” 

“Hey, um I saw your ad in the paper,” he started. “It said you could make my dreams come true, but I was wondering if maybe I could make yours come true too?” 

Your hand flew to cover your mouth as you began to laugh and James dropped his work bag on the ground, tossing his phone on the bed and coming over to you pulling you in by the waist and pressing a firm kiss to your lips, only to be broken up by giggles and laughter on both your parts. 

You tossed your phone on the bed next to James’ and instead held his face in your hands, pressing repeated kisses to his lips, loving the way you could feel them pull into a smile against your own. 

“Does this mean I get to see you again with all your sleep gear?” he asked between kisses, making you laugh again. 

“Only if you get a C-PAP machine.” 

“Deal,” he chuckled. “Hey, I’ve got a poem for you.” 

“What is it?” you asked, pressing a kiss to his cheek. 

“Roses are red, violets are blue, I feel pretty lucky that you fell in love with me too.” 

TAGLIST —

@cuntyvicodin @paola-carter @kiddbegins @il0vebeingdelulu @illicit4ff4irs @lynnsthoughts @miarabanana @iwmflbb @/shots-of-wilson-and-whiskey @sarcasm-and-stiles @sun-flower-mad @x-uno @han11dh

[morbidology]

19-year-old Alice Mitchell and 17-year-old Freda Ward met one another while attending the Higbee School for Girls in Memphis, Tennessee. They became very close and would often publicly profess their undying love for each other. Freda’s family moved several miles away and began to consider the girls relationship as unhealthy.

On one occasion Freda’s mother found Freda with her suitcase packed. She stated she was engaged to Alice and they planned to elope to St Louis and live as husband and wife - Alice was going to change her name to Alvin. Freda’s mother forbid Freda to see or speak to Alice.

The following year, on 23 January, 1892, Freda was visiting a family friend in Memphis. Alice attempted to visit her but was turned away at the door. Later on, Alice saw Freda leaving the home to board the ferry to take her back home. She ran after Freda and produced a straight razor and slashed her face. Freda managed to get away and took off running but Alice chased her and grabbed her by the hair and pulled her head back and slit her throat.

Alice was arrested later on that night and was found legally insane by the jury and sent to a psychiatric hospital until her death.

[coupleoffanfics]

A Sample

[Post-Spray Jeremiah x Batsis Reader]

It's always been a pain to drive out to Jeremiah. Just outside of Gotham and in the woods where the roads get muddy and bumpy. Though y/n finds that getting to see her boyfriend is rewarding enough to take that two-and-a-half-hour drive three times a week. She got out of the car and pulled a leather suitcase out. After the road, she has to deal with the maze. The maze is arguably worse than the road.

Not living in Gotham, but still being near it isn't enough. So he has to make a maze just in case Jerome finds out his location. As much as she wants to hate the maze, she understands the paranoia and can't fault him for that. However, the mental image of Jerome running around the maze like a rat looking for cheese is funny.

Making it through y/n was greeted by Ecco's blank face. "Good afternoon, Ecco." y/n's light voice and energy bounced off the blonde woman. Her voice was calm and collected, "Hello, Ms. l/n." It felt good to be called Ms. l/n than Ms. Wayne. Though she's sure Mrs. Valeska would sound better.

"Is he in…"

"In his study." y/n flashed a grateful smile as she said thank you. Walking down the cold hallway. The soles of her shoes made satisfying clacking sounds with each step. Stopping at the wooden door, she knocked rhythmically. A response didn't take long and she opened the door.

Jeremiah was sitting at his desk with a thing of alcohol next to him. He's been drinking a lot more lately. Disregarding the half bottle of whisky y/n smiled at fondly him, "How are you doing today." He watched her sit down, curious to see what was in the leather suitcase. "Fine," He said with a quick and almost forced smile, "What did you bring with you?" She suddenly felt nervous by how he went straight into pointing it out with no beating around the bush. She was hoping that she'd be able to ease him into what she needed.

He took note of that nervous smile creeping up on her face. She put the suitcase on her lap. "This has things for a," She stops and lets out a sigh. Her eyes look down at her hands before back at her boyfriend, "I need a blood sample." The rise of his eyebrow made her nervous. They've had this conversation a few times now.

That he was fine now. That the toxin was completely out of his system. The mind-changing effect was only temporary and only caused physical change. That if he wasn't okay then why'd they let him walk right out of the psychiatric hospital? It didn't make any sense, but he's always been such a good actor. So good that y/n almost believed him for a moment.

She never explained that she thought he was lying, just saying that she was worried that it could have done unknown harm to him. But neither could fully get away with lying to each other. So when Jeremiah agreed to it, y/n was surprised by the lack of resistance. She foolishly thought that it must have been the whisky making him agreeable.

"That's great, but we're going to have to reschedule since you've…" It felt weird, almost wrong to point to his sudden use of alcohol. It was so much easier to ignore it and run away from the thought of it. Thankful they didn't have to open that can of worms as he knew what she was pointing at. "Yes, we can do it tomorrow. You don't have any classes from what I remember." He takes another sip from his glass while staring her in the eye.

The sudden eye contact made her shiver and deviate her eyes back down to her hands for a second. "Yeah, we can do that. You'll need to drink a lot of water though." While saying that she tries to smile as if it were some sort of joke. His lack of a reaction made her drop her forced smile.

"I noticed you've been out a lot longer this week. What have you been up to lately?" He speaks like he's going to accuse her of something. What exactly, she isn't sure, but it put her on edge. "I've been visiting my family a little more." She watched his eyes harden at her words. Almost scowling at the mental image of her going back to the family that neglected her for half of her life.

y/n would have been better off cutting them out of her life after high school, but she always had an excuse. That they were far too busy to put up with her. Painting herself as a nuisance. Not explicitly saying that she was too needy, but hitting at it. Never once has he seen them attend her art galleries or even her graduation. Jeremiah knows their sudden change of heart must have been the shit show that was Jerome. His brother's childish and ignorant attempts to woo her.

The whole thing was very infuriating for Jeremiah on many levels, but he could never be mad at her for this.

His sweet little dimwitted y/n.

"Why?"

"What?"

The simple question caught her off guard. "Why would you visit them?" There was a venomous undertone to his question that confused her. "Because..." Was she going to tell him that she went to them for help? That she was starting to fear him? No of course not. "Because my little brother, he's been trying to I don't know. Just connect with me, try to have me in his life."

It was an unsatisfying answer and a fucking lie, but Jeremiah would let this go because she wasn't getting out any time soon. "Oh, your little brother," He says with a slightly mocking tone. Signifying that he was going to play along with what tale she was going to spin. "Damian."

He hums, "And he just suddenly cares about you now?" At this point, y/n wasn't sure how to respond and she wasn't going to because this wasn't something she wanted to tango with. Not today. "It doesn't matter." Before he could ask anything else she swiftly changed the subject. "How have you been?"

That's when their conversation starts becoming less intense. Any tension that was there dissolved gradually. It was like everything was normal. Chatting for a good while when all of a sudden he got up, "Come on I have something to show you something." Of course, she followed him into the living room. Showing off the vintage record player and putting on a vinyl. Music filled the room and he held out his hand.

y/n became giddy from this simple action. She tries repressing the urge to squeal and to stop her smile from growing. Wordlessly she took his hand and they glided around the room.

She always had to beg him to dance with her. Not dance to music that you'd hear at a club, just slow waltzing music while no one was around. Being one of Bruce Wayne's adopted children she took a few dance lessons. Never cared for it until she found someone whom she wanted to share it with. Someone she wanted to hold close and move together with.

It felt like they hadn't been on the same page for a while, so this was nice. A quiet moment together to take a break from everything wrong. Just the two of them dancing in the living room that they'd call their ballroom. Nice things were always followed behind something else.

She started having a coughing fit ruining that nice moment. Jeremiah had her sit on the couch. Ecco silently walked in a glass of water, but she did not approach no matter how much she'd liked to provide some type of comfort. She had to wait for him to allow her to step close to y/n. She had no choice, but to watch.

y/n's cough was dry and her face became slightly flustered from the intensity of the coughing. She could feel one of Jeremiah's hands on her back and the other on her shoulder. Giving her a slight squeeze, it's unknown if it was for his or her comfort. After she calmed down and began catching her breath he silently signaled Ecco to come over. The blond woman handed y/n the glass and she gratefully accepted it. Once the cup was out of Ecco's hand she smoothly backed away from them. She was standing on the sidelines waiting for her next order.

"I'm sorry for ruining everything. This cold just won't go away." y/n's voice was apologetic, but there was a melancholic look in her [eye color] eyes.

"Did you plan on never telling me?" She was startled by how cold he sounded. "You keep lying to me, but I've seen your medical record. It's been nearly six months since you've found out and not once did you say anything. Does anyone know about this?" She couldn't look at him. Of course, she knew it was wrong to keep everyone in the dark, but she thought would be better this way. Maybe not for them, but for her.

Her voice was a bit shaky, "No. I haven't." Jeremiah was almost satisfied hearing this because the idea of her confiding in someone was bothersome. "What did you plan on doing, y/n? Did you plan on giving up? Killing yourself?" Panic set in her. No question as to why or how he saw her medical record. She was too occupied with damage control. "No! Miah, I wouldn't! I haven't even thought of it in a few years-"

He clenched his jaw and held up his hand making her shut her mouth. This wasn't what he planned to talk about tonight, but maybe the whisky had made him forget that there was a plan. Bringing up her condition was certainly not a part of it. Everything was getting to him a bit. He stood up from the sofa and began pacing trying to collect his thoughts. He didn't want to implode, not when y/n was frozen out of fear.

At this point why even bother?

"Ecco, take y/n to her room."

"No, I think I should get going. We'll talk about this later, but think I we should step away from each other before anything else." Despite saying this Ecco wasn't deterred. Jeremiah started to walk away, "I think so too. That's why you're going to your room." y/n got up and was just about to start leaving when Ecco grabbed her arm.

"Please let me go." She didn't realize that Ecco planned on fulfilling her order until she tried to pull herself out of Ecco's grip. This causes Ecco to tighten her grip and slightly dig her nails into y/n's skin.

Jeremiah commented from behind, "You used to be so obedient, y/n. I think your family is a bad influence, so just stay here and take a short nap." Before she could even process what was going on, there was a sudden pain in the back of her head and everything went dark.

Masterlist Part 2 Here

[decolonize-the-left]

This tik tok reminded me of this time back when I was like, I mustve been 18 or 19. And anyway it's 3am and I'm at a bus stop waiting for the Greyhound cuz I was gonna go to LA for the weekend to visit my (ex)boyfriend.

This guy comes up to me. He's in his mid 30's maybe, black hoodie, carrying a trash bag full of stuff, and a skateboard in his other hand. He sees me sitting here, and for the record the bus stop was off the highway and kinda outta the way, it was pretty uncomfy to be there at 3am and weirder for him to be there too.

So anyway he comes up to me and asks what I'm doing and I tell him cuz like... Why not. If he wanted to kill me at that point he could've, might as well make conversation. And he says how I must be feeling kinda scared and he doesn't have a bus to catch but he'll keep me company and keep creeps from coming around til my bus gets there.

He did.

And to make it less awkward he started up a conversation. So he sat with me and talked about how he could hear and see God in the bushes and how it was actually God that told him to come here and sit with me. He explained how God was everywhere for him.

I'm just nodding along because I'm too nervous and shy to really do anything else and as he's describing how God once climbed out of the sidewalk I realize hes more than just a passionate Christian hearing messages. That he literally hears and sees god.

That's when it clicked for me. I'd been in a psychiatric facility before and his stories reminded me of the girl who told me that her boyfriend got trapped in her walls once.

I can't really explain the comfort that washed over me at that point. The scariest part of him sitting next to me was thinking he was just a normal, sane man walking around bus stops at 3am, and intensely talking about God.

Instead he was just some (probably schizo) guy quite literally doing what God told him to. To me that normalized the whole situation.

He wasn't hunting victims. He wasnt building me into a false sense of security. He wasn't gonna murder me for being a harlot at 3am or whatever Christian serial killers do. He was just walking around at 3 am cuz that's how him and God vibed when he couldn't sleep. Totally normal behavior. Completely rational. In fact, I got it. Like I'd walk around all the time too if I saw god in everything.

And when my bus came he helped me with my suitcases. He bowed and bid me a safe trip as I climbed on the bus and I told him to stay safe too. He stayed until the bus started moving and waved at me before turning and continuing his walk.

And in hindsight, that night probably has a lot to do with why I'm compassionate first and judgemental second when it comes to the stigma surrounding mental illnesses. And maybe he was keeping me safe from a creep. I mean... I thought the area was absent of people but he was there wasn't he? And he was the one who was just walking around so he'd know better than me if there was a creep around.

Thank you Skateboard Man.

[lucreziaq2001]

•TV show: "Criminal minds".

•Content warnings: Period-typical homophobia, mentions of conversion therapy (done through electroshock too), a young man leaving his girlfriend, who is not mentally ill, at a psychiatric hospital thinking he is doing it for her own good and his girlfriend not wanting to stay there, but being forced to.

•Some of the lines are almost the same that are in a scene of the "Cold case" episode this story is inspired by. I did modify them a bit, though. I didn't just copy and paste them.

•Both Russell Kearns and Brockview Hospital were in the "Cold case" episode this fanfiction is inspired by. Both the character and the place are just like they were in "Boy crazy".

•VERY IMPORTANT THING: This chapter and the next one were pretty upsetting for me to write, so if you find them upsetting to read, I understand. Feel free to skip them.

•Tags: @lex13cm, @golden1u5t, @avis-writeshq, @rynwritesreid, @chrrysgirl, @amerrymango, @marie-sworld, @iluvreid, @babygirl-garcia, @hugyourlungs, @strangermoonlove.

The bridge to Heaven

Chapter 14: A terrible place

In the afternoon of November 4, after picking up Emily from school, Ian asked Elizabeth to pick up Declan from daycare, then he forced Emily to pack a suitcase and put her most important things in it, and the couple left their house.

In less than an hour, they arrived in Philadelphia, at Brockview Psychiatric Hospital.

Standing by the door to welcome them, as if he already knew why Emily and Ian were there, was Dr. Russell Kearns, who after speaking with Emily for just a few minutes, already had a diagnosis that was as clear as it was terrible for the girl.

"The diagnosis is a sexual identity disorder" the man explained to Ian while two nurses took care, so to speak, of Emily "Here at Brockview, we teach girls with the problems Emily has to be attracted to men, like they should be".

"And what are you planning to do to her?" the young man asked mainly to be informed about it, since he had already made the decision to leave his girlfriend there.

"Therapy sessions with a psychologist, drugs and electroshock sessions, which is an excellent therapy" the doctor explained to him.

"I don't know anything about it, though," Ian replied, confused.

"You want the best for your girlfriend, right?" Dr. Kearns then asked him instead of giving him the explanation Ian was expecting.

"Yes, of course" the boy confirmed "But it's the first time Emily and I part ways in two and a half years".

"Don't worry, she's in good hands here" the doctor tried to reassure him "Just think that in a month, one of our former patients and her fiance are getting married. They came here to visit me about a week ago and they are one of the happiest couples I have ever met".

"Take me back home!" Emily shouted at that point as she was carried on a stretcher, with her hands and feet tied, into a room by two nurses.

"Emily, I'm doing this for your own good" Ian responded, even though he wasn't entirely convinced of what he was saying either.

"I'll dress like a woman! I'll do anything you want!" the girl told him, clearly desperate.

"These are the clothes she was wearing" Dr. Kearns told Ian, handing him a brown paper bag "After her treatment, Emily will only wear women's clothing".

"I don't want to stay here! Please, take me away!" Emily tried to beg her boyfriend, but it was no use.

"I'm sorry, Emily. I love you, but you forced me to do this" Ian responded, then he started to walk towards the hospital's door.

"No, please! Don't leave me here!" was one of the last things Ian heard Emily say, while he left her and a part of his conscience in that terrible place.

[hussyknee]

Got out of hospital on Sunday afternoon. I'm supposed to have gone to my cousin's down South today (Tuesday) to spend the week, except her brother, my other cousin, flaked on me for the seventh time.

First time was on Feb 13th when I told him I was getting myself admitted to the govt hospital by myself telling Mum I was going to stay with friends, but I needed someone in the family to know where I was just in case. He was abroad, asked his wife to call me, and when I told her in confidence I needed to be in hospital for suicidality, they told Mum. Hilariously also warned her not to let me know they told her bc I would lose all trust in them (no shit). Mum's version of subtlety was bursting in my room, demanding whether my ex husband had married someone else (?????), forbidding me to leave the house without her permission (I laughed in her face at that), and accusing me of stressing her out by living like a depressed hobo.

I called cousin and told him off. Made it very clear again that she doesn't want me to go to the hospital, has always hated that I'm getting psychiatric treatment, and every time I've been in psychiatric care she's harrassed me so badly we'd had to ban her from visiting me. Cuz was very contrite and promised to help; his wife is a nurse so they said they would help arrange food and necessities while I was in hospital.

Two days later on 15th, I realized lugging my suitcase alone to a govt hospital (which I had never done before) and figuring out the logistics of checking myself in was giving me too much anxiety, and asked for his help that he has offered earlier. He said "we will see" once he got back to the country on Sat. And then never called.

I said "fuck it" on Tuesday 14th, left my suitcase at home and went to the hospital on my own. Was instantly admitted, given the last remaining bed that was broken in the middle, in a small, dingy room where a teenage girl just would not shut up and the bedside cabinet was so filthy I didn't want to put my bag on it. Called and left increasingly frantic messages to my cousin to please help tell Mum and bring my stuff, calls and messages to my doc that I couldn't stay here, and after receiving dead silence in return I had an anxiety attack and just ran out of hospital.

Hospital called Mum when they found out I was missing. Doc told us both she wouldn't admit me if I didn't want to stay there but we'll figure something out. Asked Mum to come see her with me the following morning. She agreed, and then just...didn't.

Cousin sent a message two days later saying he had been busy with a workshop since he got back.

Doc consulted at the general hospital on Mondays, so I waited and went to see her alone again. Hours of queues and waiting later, they told me she was on leave till next week. I started to cry, so they told me to simply come to the ward on Friday and meet her.

By that time I was out of money, out of hope and out of help. I started gathering materials for my exit bag and composed a quasi-farewell note on Twitter. Someone immediately contacted me and offered to fundraise. My other two friends also got on board, wrestled with a write-up for two days, and set up the GFM. Met the target within two days. I already had like one foot in the grave so the realization I might be able to live was confounding.

On Monday 6th I messaged cousin again.

Cuz: How are you? I heard you got admitted and then came back? Felt guilty as I couldn’t help. Was busy throughout that week.

Me: It's fine. Yes the hospital was not in good condition and it stressed me out. A couple of my friends abroad fundraised for me last week and they now have enough for me to try an private hospital

Me: I'm going to meet my doctor this morning so she can advise to on next steps

Me: Again, I didn't tell Mum, I plan to let her know once I have the go ahead. But it would be great if you could help. It's difficult to co-ordinate things on my own and Mum will freak out obviously

Cuz: I will, sister. I had a chat with your mom a few days back. Let me know what your doc says

Doc asked me to come early March 7th. I got late. Hours of queues later, they told me she had left hours ago. I broke down crying. Alarmed, they sent me to wait outside the psychiatric ward for when she'd be back for ward rounds. I sat out there alone for 2 hours, had 3 consecutive panic attacks, decided to kill myself. Send Mum a vitriolic rant that she and her husband should burn in hell and to know I cursed them to my last breath. Mum called and I ignored. She messaged threatening to go to the police. I disassociated and tearfully messaged my former therapist she can't just dump people like she did to me. Started trying to think of ways to kill myself without going home and panicked because I hadn't planned for any of them. Therapist called in concern and I sobbed that I had been waiting 3 hours and doc wasn't here and I didn't know how to kill myself and couldn't go home. Therapist made me give the phone to a nurse (had to find someone who didn't look at me like I was crazy and refuse to take it) and got her to page my doc.

FINALLY saw doc. She gave me a letter and told me which private hospital to get admitted to. I was still half not entirely there so I called cousin and she explained it to him as well. I was going to go directly to hospital and send for my things, but now I was calmer, cousin persuaded me to let him collect me and drop me home. He then told me to shower and pack and wait for Mum to come home, and then leave. I thought he was supposed to take me to the hospital. But he insisted I talk to Mum. But fine. I could do that and take a cab.

Showered, packed. Woman never turned up. Apparently after threatening to go to the police and having histrionics at half the family, she couldn't be arsed to leave work early. Messaged cousin, no reply. Got dark and started storming. I started having another panic attack. Messaged cousin urgently to take me to hospital because I was too out of it to take a cab. No answer. Called Mum. Said she was on her way. Hour passed. I was now screaming at the top of my lungs and bashing my head against the wall begging anyone and everyone to take me to the hospital. Neighbors heard me over the storm and called the house. Was going full on Exorcism of Emily Rose. Unblocked best friend and went on a tirade against her that sounded like a psychotic break of some kind. Instead of getting mad, she called me and listened to me howl and sob and soothed me. Called Mum again. It had been two hours since last call. Said she was on her way. I fell asleep crying.

10pm. Woke up screaming for Mum to take me to hospital. Mum burst in and said I wasn't going anywhere and to shut up and get on the bed so she could pray and apply holy oil on me. Last time I had a horrible colitis flare and begging to be taken to the hospital for an IV also she refused and forcibly annointed me with holy oil. I grabbed her bottle of holy oil and smashed it. She screamed at me that I was in her house and I would obey her. Yelled "IN THE NAME OF JESUS I CAST YOU OUT SATAN! THE POWER OF CHRIST–" and I shoved her out and locked the door. She banged on the door yelling her phone was inside. I opened the door and threw her phone at her head. She yelled that she was the one who had bought me my phone and she would call the police if I destroyed anything else.

At this point I had had four hours-long panic attacks. Was convinced I was going to die here. Made a long twitter thread enumerating the abuse and neglect and religious abuse my brother and I have been enduring at my mother's hands, ending that we would both die here. Friends immediately mobilized. I sent them all each other's numbers. One friend arranged a vehicle, another took it from the ass end of the city to my place. Two more stayed on the phone with me and walked me through getting ready and staying conscious. Snuck out of the house at half past midnight. Was half dead. Friend admitted me to the hospital and spent all night with me. Then another friend took half his work day over and stayed. Another friend I hasn't met in ten years came to see me from work and stayed late. They finally engaged a nursing service because it was hospital policy not to leave patients unattended. They were lovely too. I was so medicated I could barely help with anything, just cried and was so touch-starved I clung to my friends like a burr.

Cousin called me in the morning to ask where I was. I told him I held him responsible and would not be telling him which hospital I was in.

But more than anything I wanted my best friend. She and my closest friends were my real family and I deliberately ruined my relationships with them and drove them away because of years of undiagnosed OCD and because I wanted to destroy my relationships so I could kill myself. Bestie's kindness extended to keeping me company until I was medicated, but then she had to withdraw to heal from what I had done to her.

Spent five wonderful days in hospital. Was fed on time things I liked to eat, medicated, tucked into sleep. No thoughts. Life of a 5 yo basically. Attendants also very affectionate. Desperate for that kind of care for a longer term.

Also the attendants got very attached to me fsr. I'm a natural oversharer but I was also very doped and lonely, so I chatted a lot with them so they got to know about my medical stuff and home situ. And how passionate I was about social justice and animals and stuff. First one straight up wanted to adopt me or something. First one stayed 2 days then had to leave for family emergency. Second one tucked me in like a 5 yr old and hugged me and stroked my head till I fell asleep. She also checked up on me twice after I got home. They were like "I will call you squishy and you will be my squishy" 😂 'Twas very nice. Apparently, for all I am an intimidating menace online, irl I am babie. They were very poor and struggling ladies who needed someone to talk to as much as I did, I think.

Cousin was then supposed to come help me discharge and drop me home. So to nobody's surprise, I ended up doing all the paperwork, paying the bill, arranging a cab and going home by myself. (My beloved friends were unfortunately very stuck that day and I took my attendant with me to drop off at her stop halfway, so if wasn't quite as pitiful as it sounds.)

Nobody was home when I got there, but it was the unanimous conclusion that I need to gtfo. Cousin sister has been insistent I come stay with her bless her. Cousin again promised to drop me off at hers (lmao). Unfortunately the family cat is sick with half his face scabbed over, and the demons here would let him die if it was up to them. But he also keeps fucking off to roam before I can corral him to the vet.

Nevertheless, I was all packed and ready to gtfo today, except to exactly nobody's suprise, cousin messaged he was busy with a leadership conference and couldn't take me till tomorrow afternoon. So now I'm looking up intercity bus tickets because if he actually turns up tomorrow I will take it as a sign of the end times. He also assured me that Mum has called my aunties and accepted that she fucked up LMAOOOOO. I fucking hate these people. She could literally murder us all in cold blood and they'd find some kind of apologism for it. Jesus wept.

Meanwhile, I am still depressed but I am on so much Valium I don't even care.

[briamichellewrites]

96

I’m not angry. I promise. I get how this happened. I will be there for you and our baby. If I don’t answer, it’s because I’m in class. I’ll text you back when I can. – Jason

That reassured Bria. He was not ignoring her. Rather, he was busy. She got a visit from Brad. He heard what happened from Mike and he wanted to see her. What did he tell him? Just that she was having a hard time with her mental health and needed to be in rehab for three months. Possibly more. He was vague with the details. She guessed he was protecting privacy. Did she want to talk about it? He would respect it if she didn’t. Yeah, she could.

As they sat by the pool, she told him about her miscarriage and her mental breakdown. When she was going through the intake process, they discovered she was pregnant again. Was he the father? No, her boyfriend, Jason was. He was his younger brother. After her miscarriage, she flew to Cambridge for a week to be with him.

He was getting his graduate degree at Harvard. That’s why she was in Cambridge. Yeah. She couldn’t tell him everything over text. He understood why she couldn’t tell him. What was he studying at Harvard? It had to do with landscape architecture. That’s what he wanted to do. She thought he had two years left before he graduated. He showed her what he was doing but it went right over her head. That made him laugh. Where were her animals? They were hanging out in her room.

She would show him. Bark! Bark! They heard barking as they walked to her door. Once it was open, Missy and Buddy were there waiting for her with anger. Human, you abandoned us again! She crouched down and petted them while apologizing. You’re forgiven, human. Where were the cats? They didn’t know. They were around somewhere. Those cats were always doing something.

She had a nice room. He looked around. There was something he wanted to tell her. He found out recently that he had a twelve-year-old daughter from a short-term relationship. Her name was Jayde Carter. Where was she? She was in foster care. Her biological mother was in a psychiatric hospital. Was she born under the influence of drugs? He didn’t know. What was her mother’s name? Malisha Carter. She gave him a look, so he asked her what was wrong.

“That’s my mother’s name. Malisha Carter. She’s in a psychiatric hospital.”

“You’re kidding. Oh my god.”

He got out his phone from his pocket and pulled up a picture of Jayde. She looked similar to her. That meant she was her sister. She didn’t know what to say. They could not ever date because he was technically her stepfather. Former stepfather? Either way, it didn’t feel right. She wanted to keep him as a friend. He would do that. When she was comfortable, maybe she could meet her sister.

Jayde had been in foster care her whole life. She moved from home to home so much, she was used to living in a suitcase. Anna was a great foster mom, but she wasn’t her mother. She got along well with her son, Otis. At four years old, he loved everything dinosaurs. He pretended he was a dinosaur. During the day, he went to preschool while his mommy worked. It was an all-day program, which made it a lot easier for Anna. He went to bed before she did, so she got one on one time.

Anya was good at letting the dogs know when they were annoying her. It only took a swipe of her paw to get them to leave her alone. She was cleaning herself when Missy came over and sniffed her. Meow. She barked when she felt her paw hitting her face. I’m taking a bath. Go away! She grumbled as she walked over to the humans.

“Leave your sister alone, dude”, Bria said.

She got up on the couch and rested her head on her lap. All she wanted to do was sniff her. Cats were so weird. They should be dogs like her. She petted her and scratched her head. Thank you, human. That makes me feel better. He laughed because she was such a good pet mother. She treated them like they were her children. He was excited about her having a baby.

An unplanned pregnancy had to be scary. He couldn’t even imagine what she was going through with her emotions. It had to feel like whiplash. She found out she was pregnant while going through a miscarriage. While going through a mental breakdown and grief, she found out she was pregnant again. The baby’s health was so uncertain, that she and her boyfriend had a right to be concerned. What if it happened again? That would be devastating times ten.

Bark! Bark! Growl. Mike was watching Misty get angry at her own reflection. She raised her paw, causing the other puppy to do the same. He called her over to where he was. She put her paw on his leg with her toy in her mouth. He laughed and picked her up. After setting her on the chair beside him, she smiled at him with her tongue out. Good girl. It was a quiet day where they had nothing planned.

He was working on music on his laptop after going outside for a walk. She loved sniffing everywhere and exploring. Her nose picked up scents she never noticed before. She wondered if her human could also smell them. He was a good human who fed her, took her for walks and played with her. She did get into trouble. He knew she was just a puppy who didn’t know any better. Instead of getting angry, he corrected her behavior.

When she went potty outside, he gave her a treat. Good girl! Yes, I am! Thank you, human! Since adopting her, he felt happier. He had a new purpose and that was taking care of her. In return, she provided him with unconditional love and laughter. When she dropped her toy, she looked down at the floor and whined. He bent over and picked it up for her. Thank you, human.

It’s Brad. I just got done visiting Bria. Can I meet you somewhere or should I call you? Either one works for me. – Brad

You can come over. My dog and I are just hanging out. – Mike

He sent him his address. It took him forty five minutes because he kept getting lost. When he finally arrived, he heard barking coming from inside. Mike opened the door and greeted him while making sure Misty didn’t escape. Hi, human. She sniffed him before following them back into his studio. Could he get him anything? He offered him a beer. Yeah, thank you.

After getting that for him, he asked about Bria. She was in a good mood, though she still seemed sad. They had a conversation about her mother. How did he know about her mother? He found out he had a twelve year old daughter with a woman named, Malisha Carter. His eyes were wide. Oh my god!

“It’s my job to ask you about a woman named, Anna Hillinger. Bria said you knew her.”

“Yeah, she’s my ex girlfriend. She cheated on me and got pregnant back in 1999 or 2000. How do you know her?”

“She’s my daughter’s foster mother.”

“Oh my god! That’s crazy! What did Bria say about it?”

“She told me everything she knew about her mother. The reason why I’m telling you is because of your relationship with Bria. There’s a possibility Jayde was born under the influence of drugs. She mentioned a car accident.”

Yeah, it was him and Bria. They were walking back to their cars with their friend, Bradford when they were both hit by a driver going over the speed limit. He went over the car and she went under. She had a broken leg and arm. He was relatively okay with cuts and bruises.

She was in so much pain, she went into shock. They both stayed in the hospital overnight because he hit his head. They wanted to make sure he didn’t have a concussion. He didn’t. What happened to Bradford? Nothing.

He was in a different location, so he saw everything that happened. They learned from the police that the driver was under the influence of drugs and alcohol. They also found out that the driver was Bria’s mother.

They decided to let her take a plea deal because of her mental state and her history of severe abuse. Now she had another daughter. Snore. They looked down at Misty, who had fallen asleep with her toy beside her. They laughed. Brad took a drink of his beer.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon

[meggigoering]

📖October 27, 2023

🦈Orlusha has such a poetic opus about Perm, about shit throwing competitions. I'm not good at poetry, and only Orlusha can write like Orlusha. That's why I tell you in pure prose. I'm sitting in the kitchen in a long-suffering apartment on Maslennikova 16. As usual, I work. All my activities boil down to the four simple classes: work, study, do dogs and myself, sleep. And it's happening last week, just after my next visit to the mental hospital. In case you missed everything - a small update. Since my litigation has reached apotheosis, the stinky, Tanyushka, and their leaders from the Sistema "SberAlfaVTB" began to have a death agony. Therefore, the stinky in principle is in a state of hysteria and insanity nonstop - it is clear which criminal will survive to live in the same territory with the plaintiff, and personally watch as the plaintiff buries the stinky with the tanyushka, their chiefs and henchmen from the local mentee. The stinky therefore calls the tanyushka and depicts the extreme degree of indignation, hysteria, loss of speech, and complains about all possible diseases that this oligophrene has from birth or simulates, and in his broken stinking language screams, cries and hisses that it is supposedly my fault.

Try to step on the eggs of your enemy, and you will learn a lot of interesting things about yourself. Tanya's ass is also burning in full, so she writes to various mental hospitals and police that I'm allegedly crazy, and offers to start my inpatient treatment immediately. However, in her pathetic records, Tanyushka forgets my name, and writes about Andreeva Anna Sergeevna, with some other date of birth. In short, after the fire, tanushka wrote another paper, according to the cunning plan of stinky and tanyushka, they decided to weigh the fire on me, and say that the arson of the apartment is not a stinky, but a mental patient Andreeva Anna Sergeevna. In short, they write their carts, and I go to have voluntary examinations. It's like a game - Tanya and stinky write that I'm seriously suffering from schizophrenia Andreeva Anna Sergeevna, who needs to be urgently closed in a madhouse. Then comes a psychiatrist, who is surprised not to find Anna Sergeevna Andreeva in the apartment, but discovers Raevskaya-Repnina with a Moscow residence, with the suitcases in the corner of the kitchen, and with papers on the initiation of a criminal case on the tricks of tanyushka and stinky, for this the visit ends. Then I take all the documents, go to the same hospital, and already to three doctors, the heads of the district psychiatrist (head of the department and head of the hospital) I tell the whole tragic story of tanyushka and stinky, and their agony in the struggle for other people's apartments, and I pass a voluntary psychiatric examination, according to the results of which I am given another certificate that I do not have mental disorders and I am healthy, according to three psychiatrists, two of whom manage the clinic and the psychiatric department.

With each tanushka and stinky letter, they add to their future life (and for their "employers") by submission of each such letter about plus 4-7 years: the composition under Article 128 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation, and fully completed under Article 128.1 of the Criminal Code of the Russian Federation. You've probably heard about this Anglo-Saxon law - several life sentences. Well, in fact, from such calls, sentences for astronomical 150 years of imprisonment, five life sentences, and so on are taken.

In short, last weekend, instead of preparing for the test, I was preparing for the test in a psychiatric hospital, correctly speaking for a mental health check. Only a real schizophrenic comes to such events unprepared. As a result, my test at the Samara Psychiatric Hospital and a completely free certificate (thanks, Tanya) from three respected psychiatrists of the state hospital cost me 5 points on the test: I scored only 95% on the test out of 100%, and now I'm worried whether this will affect my diploma in the United States with honors.

Tanya, as a creature not very familiar with the law, does not understand the simplest thing: a criminal case is initiated by an investigative committee where there is a killing list and crimes of law enforcement officials. The very fact of initiating a criminal case with the SK RF already clearly determines the sane composition. Therefore, Tanya and stinky continue their agony and write sweeping letters, continuing to add a new term to themselves by each of them.

So, I'm sitting in the kitchen, having passed the test for 95% of 100% at an American university (if you do not know, more than 50% of first-year students do not get a diploma because of failure, the story of a bad American education is for a sucker - to sincerely believe that Russian education is the best), and having received another test for the highest score "healthy" in the mandatory program in the Samara Psychiatric Hospital. And, of course, I've already sent my volumes of certificates that I'm mentally healthy (thanks to Tanya) which is called to whom it may concern. The stinky rustled with something in his pissed-off wards, and then suddenly he started to yell (he found a speech again - we have fcking miracles here every day more than the biblical ones) "Was everything in vain?", and began to moan and yell. It should be noted here that the stinky with his employers sat tightly in my phone, computer, mailbox and e-mail, and everything I do became known to them quite quickly. By the way, this is one of the reasons why wonderful people from law enforcement agencies do not send me real correspondence to my emails and papers by mail. We have a blind game. Even I don't know in which court the conviction of the stinky and the company will be, I guess that it's not in Samara, but except for collecting things, documents, and being ready, I did not receive other instructions. In short, the stinky found out that I got a credit for the "healthy" grade and was very upset. Then everything was like Zadornov's: "Since the overloaded barrel was much heavier than himself, it was dim or not dim, it didn't matter anymore." The stinky defiled in his pissed lord's robe to the toilet. For twenty minutes he rustled and washed there, knocked with basins and buckets, that I even decided for a moment that the stinky decided to get a human appearance. No shit, my friends. The door to the bathroom opened, this newly made Oblomov appeared on the doorstep, holding something big thick and brown in his hands, which then defiled into the kitchen with this nutella of a toilet spill, slapping the floor where I live, cooking food for myself and dogs, and threw it into the trash can, pouring the kitchen, the handles of the headset, and the mixer. That's the way, my friends. This bastard brought from the bathroom full hands of his own shit, with which he smeared everything around me. I spent the next three hours laundering shit with chlorine, and threw away a trash can with the stinky's shit, as the cost of detergents exceeded the cost of buying a new bucket. The next day, the stinky, accusing me of schizophrenia and throwing out a trash can, bought his own trash can, which he put in his own pissed penates. And I'll say this: that's nice, all the shit should be in one place.

At the end of today's post with glorious sagas about the stinky, Tanya, and their daughter, I want to explain why I'm not Andreeva, but suddenly Raevskaya-Repnina with a triple name, and also with the nickname Meggi Göring. It is this question that for some reason is especially disturbing the brain of the stinky, tanyushka, their daughters and all their other friends, sympathizers and employers tormented by Narzan.

In 2009, I transported Valery Sergeevna Shumilova, a stinky and tanyushka daughter, to Moscow. A stinky with a certificate that he is a psycho, an alcoholic and a drug addict with 20 years of experience. Tanya on the female line, as she claims, everyone has schizophrenia. Lera is a certified mentally ill. Why the Tanya herself has not yet put a test on the schizophrenia - this small misunderstanding will now be quickly corrected by the Investigative Committee of the Russian Federation. The daughter of two schizophrenics Lera suffers from down syndrome, frontal dementia, worked as a prostitute in Moscow for pleasure. After moving to Moscow, this Orekhovskaya gang's family developed its turbulent activities. Prostitute-down Lera began to write false denunciations against me to the police, and together Lera and Tanya began to try to be friends with my friends and colleagues, who were desinformed by them that I was their own biological relative. Obviously, with such genetics, calling me a daughter and sister is like making me a diagnosis. But that's not all! Tanya with a stinky actively told everyone that they had two daughters with schizophrenia. And Lera Shumilova took the pseudonym of Lera Andreeva in social networks, and began to tell everyone that she was Anya Andreeva's sister. This "sister" - a prostitute down - wrote not only packs of statements to the police, she wrote in MTS, where the Board's Chairman Felix Evtushenkov. Lera wrote that I control the world around her, prostitutes-down, read her thoughts, and organize "controlled speaking" - that people around her repeat her thoughts because I'm in collusion with them. The story of repeatedly expulsions from the university for chronic academic failure was also heard at the University of Oil and Gas, under the tutelage of Gazprom, where a down prostitute studied and at the same time Felix received his second higher education. The feats of "lera andreeva," "native sister of anya andreeva," sounded very aloudly there according to the program. Well, I just worked modestly on the boards of directors under the leadership of Felix. The presence of such an honorable biological relationship according to the version of stinky and tanyushka - with two prostitutes with schizophrenia and schizophrenic suffering from chronic alcoholism and drug addiction destroyed my career. Genetics and origin determine everything in our lives. The plume of genetic pathologies in such "relatives" makes it impossible to work on the board of directors - no one needs a person whose decisions will be protested tomorrow due to the risks of his legal capacity. I was punished to leave the Systema. Then I broke a chair in one of Gazprom's DZKs. I had not only to change my name, but for 9 years to crawl through hell to explain what the fck is going on and to prove that the stinky, tanushka, and their prostitute daughter down lera are not my biological relatives, and therefore I am who I am by origin, and do not have any genetic pathologies and diseases that give reason to question my sanity.

Why did I choose such a long first and last name? Princes and dukes have no surnames and patronymic, princes have a long compound name indicating the dynasty and belonging to the genus or geography. With my pedigree, the full dynastic name is very long. By law in Russia, I can't wear it. I can't take the names of all my direct ancestors either. I also could not take real surnames by father and mother, in connection with the cases of Anatoly Onoprienko and the Nuremberg Trials. Therefore, for the Russian passport, I took the names of my two direct ancestors, whose surnames and exploits were undeservedly forgotten, and their reputation was defamed: this is my great-great-great-grandfather, General Nikolai Nikolaevich Raevsky, the hero of the 1812 war, and my great-great-great-great-grandfather General Field Marshall, Governor of Riga, Nikolai Vasilyevich Repnin. I hope to restore their good name with my life and deeds. Taking these surnames, I attribute myself with the main existential activity of my family: to be a part of the hereditary military aristocracy of royal origin, to serve people and fatherland. It is our profession, chosen for us by our origin. As for the names, of all the dynastic names I can wear, I chose the three most simple ones. Such a complex name protects me and my property well: only those who have seen my passport and had a legitimate relationship with me can write it correctly and indicate my correct data. As for Meggi Göring's name, I would take this name right away from the beginning, but the attitude towards my great-grandfather Herman Göring does not allow me to do it yet. Edda Göring is my legal biological grandmother. I really hope that there will be a happy moment in my life when I can officially bear my name Meggi Göring with my passport. I love my family very much, and the inability to wear a genetic name and invent intermediate options for obtaining a passport upsets me. Obtaining a passport of a country that for me from a dynastic point of view is a fatherland, issued in my dynastic name is one of my long-term goals. At the same time, the traditions of regular name change and dynastic naming are the norm for my pedigree, but unusual for the inhabitants. It is not surprising that people who do not know my entire history, origin, and pedigree, are not able to sensibly assess my actions, making typical logical mistakes: not having specific knowledge, trying to assess the subject that requires them.

👩‍💻The illustrations are here:

https://pin.it/6eQQSKZ

https://pin.it/1BljNZJ

https://pin.it/5lAJmku

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[luc3]

1+1=1

[or Before / After - After - After]

I never celebrate Ostara (it's Ostara?), not my cup of tea, after the Solstice, I impatiently wait for the Equinox, and especially for it to lead to Walpurgis. BUT hello, COUCOU to 'my' mutuals, may the winds be favorable to you all 💚 . Here, we experience a lovely month of May. (oh wait,)

I have classes on public property at the largest Psychiatric Hospital in my town. I don't know if there's a connection, but this last month has left me technically knocked out.

Plus, Lent is coming. 😱

I started preparing these two mother tinctures around the winter Solstice. Mother tinctures because I let the plant infuse in pure ethanol for a lunation and a half. First time trying this method. Before I always cut with water, about 2 to 1.

I believe an 'even more' mother tincture is with the root of the fresh plant. But I have not yet had permission to uproot a St. John's Wort plant. (Unlike Datura, but this time I decided to try a tincture only with seeds from my oldest plant.)

Tadaaaa.

The Datura is not ready yet so I won't say anything about it. But given the state in which I am psychically (therefore mentally and physically), very 'parasitized', both by the living idiots, the dead idiots, by the living twisted people, the dead twisted people, the twisted ones from the other beyond, those of the lower astral, etc., St. John's wort became vital.

It is the blood that my liver no longer has, triple-purple blood. LIFE.

I'm taking advantage of this beginning of the month to start a cure. And as Lent arrives, and I am in panic about what I have decided to give this year (meat, among other things..-> while we found a wonderful mountain farmer some time ago who makes delicious meat 😢), I pick up Celandine (in great shape at the moment in my region), a little, I must say very veeeery little Absinthe (that's managed by the Good Neighbors from here), AND Nettle. It's going to be disgusting and the more disgusting it is, the more space it makes.

Also, to take back space and let's say it, to take back my territory, I don't like complicated things, so I worked on a very simple rite of purification, of oneself and of space, which only requires a wooden spoon as a tool, and nothing but salt and water as ingredients. I think aficionados here will have understood what it is about. I practiced this purification after meditating on drums, and the result is always very effective on me. What a surprise, I had a lot of pain in my lower back after purifying myself! Afterwards I made a few other small adjustments.

I am now ready to start stressing about Lent again. 😱

[catullansparrowlet]

The walls are a strange off-white and the floor has a sickeningly green-brown colour. There’s no place you’d rather not be and in the echoes of your faltering footsteps in the seemingly endless corridor you hear soft whispers that you don’t belong here, that you should turn and run while it’s still possible. You don’t run, however, and opt to clutch the handle of your too-big black suitcase a little harder instead. The person who walks a little in front of you suddenly stops, and opens a blue door, to reveal a pastel green room, furnished with light-wooden colours. They stop talking- and you just realise they must’ve been talking to you all the way here. There’s a question hanging in the air and even though every fibre of your being screams it’s wrong, that you don’t belong here, you nod and thus admit yourself to a psychiatric ward.

You’ve been here long enough to realise you’re lost, but not long enough to know how to get out of this maze of greens, browns and yellows. As you’re turning around for the umptieth time, trying to spot a way out of this small clearing, the wind that blows through multicoloured  leaves whispers that you don’t belong and you shiver as brown, misshapen leaves rain down upon you. You know you’re not supposed to be here, but where are you supposed to be?  You whirl around and, upon glimpsing the path that brought you here, you set out in that direction. How lost can one really be when there are only so many possible paths one can take?

The room you meet the doctor in is grey, so is the man himself and so are his questions, undefinable, seemingly absorbed by the very greyness that dwells in the room. Your words are swallowed by the grey curtains, who answer the doctor with answers of their own and you start to feel lost in the hungry greyness that swallows you whole. Grey is ubiquitous, you realise with a start, and the thought calms you down. Everything is grey and in grey you belong. That fragile peace of mind is shattered however when you hear the cushions of the seats whisper that you don’t belong, not here.

Making everything white was a horrible idea on the designer’s part, you think, as you fascinatedly watch a red stain form and grow on what was previously a white surface. You smack your hand in the middle of the red puddle and watch red droplets soil even more of the white surface and you find it delights you, so you repeat the motion, not unlike a toddler that has discovered the fun of ruining perfect things. More and more white gives way to different shades of red, until blue makes it stop. Confused, you sit back and ponder over the change. Red you know and are familiar with, as if it were an old lover of yours, and grey, in all its unfathomable haziness, holds no more secrets for you anymore either, but blue? Blue’s an old enemy you haven’t faced in years, one you’ve chosen to ignore- and it has decided to return. You protest, it doesn’t belong here!  And then realisation kicks in.

Neither of you belong- and that makes you belong.

[ljsstories]

Chapter Two: ScotRok Festival

For the past fortnight Jane had packed and unpacked her suitcase multiple times. She and Louise were only staying in a Glasgow hotel for a few days and it was only half an hour's drive back to Kilmarnock but Jane was still having second thoughts about going at all. She couldn't tell Louise, she wouldn't understand, for Jane's doubts never really went away. When Jane made a decision, it wasn't done and dusted and final, she would constantly reassess her decision and bring up the pros and cons almost every day. This was one of these decisions, one of these situations where Jane was overthinking it, she was doubting herself and fighting the desperate urge to back out. As she stood by her bed looking down at the suitcase, almost packed...again, she thought about seeing her favourite band live. Was she ready to escape her comfort zone just yet? It had been five months since she started seeing Doctor Fisher, surely she was ready by now. The only one against you...is you! Wasn't that what she had said the first time they met? All the odds were stacked in her favour; she had the week off, Louise had planned the whole week, they had tickets, Dexter Maloney was going to be there singing his heart out...the only thing standing in her way was indeed her. She tried to put the past few weeks behind her; Nancy giving her the cold shoulder on a daily basis, Eliza's constant torture of her winning tickets to see her idol, Jane's mother clucking away at her like a mother hen and lecturing her on the dangers of Glasgow the big bad city. It took a lot for Monica to move to Kilmarnock, to her Glasgow was exactly as it was portrayed in Taggart, murder city! Jane had to try and shut out her mother's omnipresent negativity. She also had to come to terms with the fact that along with the PCOS and the blue eyes, there was also Monica's anxiety in the all-inclusive package that Jane had been given at birth.

Downstairs Eliza was yammering away about Jensen Reed and the new film that just came out, how he was definitely a contender for the Oscars next year once again, how gorgeous he was even playing a patient in a psychiatric ward. If Jane had to hear his name uttered once more, she was going to scream, better yet she was going to tear down those stupid posters on Eliza's wall and burn them right in front of her. No she wasn't, Jane didn't do impulsive, she did cautious. Extracting revenge wasn't in her make-up. "It's amazing how he is still hot wearing a straitjacket and talking in tongues, or whatever, I still love him!" Eliza giggled and looked off into the distance with a dreamy look on her heavily caked face. Why she insisted on wearing so much make-up was beyond Jane's comprehension, because despite hating her little sister, she couldn't deny how naturally pretty she was. She didn't need all that crap on her face. Maybe Doctor Fisher was right, maybe Eliza was insecure and seeking validation, only not from Jane but from the world. Jane shuddered, she was getting way too deep for this Friday evening, it was fish and chips night from the café at the top of the road and then it was time to get some rest. The tickets Louise got for ScotRok were for Saturday and Sunday only, Sweet Cacophony were playing on both days and Jane could not wait...also Jane was terrified! Unexpectedly, she felt her heart speed up to a gallop as she struggled for air, no...no panic attack, not now! Her eyes blurred, she felt that all too familiar dizziness envelope her head and her limbs turned to jelly. She closed her eyes and took in a long breath, then out, it began to pass as she continued to breathe slowly in and out with her eyes firmly shut. As the moment passed, she sat on her bed in silence, still breathing in and out. For the past few months Jane had managed to stop a panic attack in its tracks before curling up into the foetal position and wanting to die, she was always proud of herself when she staved off an attack like this one and rather than deter her from going forward with her planned week with Louise, this only made her more determined to go and enjoy herself.

***

The festival was packed, everyone was being searched at the gate for anything suspect including food and drink, the organisers made a fortune selling their own stuff and discouraged festival goers to bring their own from outside the stage area. Louise had her trusty bag with her, she had hidden compartments everywhere in that thing, like the shoulder bag version of a Swiss army knife and was smuggling contraband in with her. Once again Jane was a bag of nerves, terrified that they would get caught with a naughty little bottle of water and a bag of flying saucers. Once they were safely in, and still in possession of their illegal goods, they watched a few lesser-known bands on various stages and some better known on the main stage. All in all Saturday was a good day, despite being unable to get into Sweet Cacophony's set, there was always tomorrow and this time they would get there good and early. Live and learn, as Jane's granny used to say.

Sunday was slightly quieter, which was just as well, as Louise led Jane by the arm to the front of the stage where Sweet Cacophony were playing. Within half an hour the place was full of bodies all chattering away excitedly. The huge screen at the back of the stage lit up making Jane jump, then want to gag as River Monster's logo appeared on it in enormous letters. "Fuck, Lou we're at the wrong stage!" she muttered as Louise looked up from her phone looking bemused.

"What are you on about?"

"LOOK!" Jane shouted over the ever-swelling crowd of people laughing and chanting, pointing her arm up towards the offending logo. Louise's face drained of colour at the sight of the big screen as they both looked around for a way out but being at the front made it virtually impossible to leave. Then the band started to arrive, one by one; guitarist and backing vocalist Kris Spencer, bass player and guitarist T.J. Chambers then keyboard player Bradley Jenkins, yes Jane knew all of their names and what instruments they played courtesy of Eliza who never shut up about them. Jane felt a cold sweat trickle down her back as the drummer and fourth member of the band, Jonah Reed, came running on waving his drumsticks in the air. Jonah was Jensen's younger brother and just as cocky. Only one band member left to appear, the pimple on Jane's backside, Jensen fucking Reed! He swaggered onstage with his guitar hanging from his shoulders waving his arms about and addressing the crowd through a microphone he was holding way too close to his mouth. He was wearing sunglasses, hiding those famous baby blues that made most women go weak at the knees, his ridiculously shiny brown hair was down to his shoulders and effortlessly bounced around and landed in flattering positions as he walked making him even more handsome. Well if you liked that sort of thing, Jane did not! He was wearing a black t-shirt that was very loose on his slender frame, it had the River Monster logo on it too, his skinny ripped jeans made his legs look even bonier than usual and his taste in footwear made Jane jealous, a pair of black converse high tops with red flames emblazoned on the sides. He approached the front of the stage and placed the microphone on its stand, that's when it all came rushing back, the immense hatred for him and the urge to gouge out his perfectly sparkling blue eyes.

"Is everyone havin' a good time?" He yelled over the microphone as the crowd reacted positively and noisily to him, "I can't fuckin' hear you, I said...IS EVERYONE HAVIN' A GOOD TIME???" The crowd cheered, shrieked, and whooped even louder as the band started up and Jensen Reed began to sing their first hit song, Broken Fireworks. Jane stood there, at the front, arms crossed and a face that would turn milk sour. Louise was still looking around the crowd for a gap to sneak out of and catch the rest of Sweet Cacophony's set. As time dragged on, Jensen was continually obnoxious, he persisted on lifting his shirt to reveal his toned midriff and shouted about taking a dozen of the lovely women in the crowd back to his hotel room, Jane felt sick. Louise gave her an apologetic shrug as they endured an entire two hours of the Jensen Reed show. In one particular monologue he talked about the size of his manhood and how he would show the crowd but he was told it wasn't appropriate for the middle of the day in the open air, he was exactly as Jane had imagined, a narcissistic potty mouth who talked constant trash! It was the worst two hours of her life, even though Jensen Reed was a phenomenal singer and his songs were actually tolerable. At one point he actually looked down in Jane's direction and winked at her, while she almost threw up. He got a few people up on stage for the final song, End of Everything, mostly females of course. Jane had never felt so mad, watching him jump around and be adored by the entire crowd was too much. Her heart thumped in her chest ferociously, almost as if it was going to burst out and projectile across the stage and land at his feet. Louise elbowed her just in time and shoved her towards a small gap in the crowd as they made their hasty exit, unfortunately it was too late for Sweet Cacophony and Jane wanted to cry. She had missed Dexter Maloney!

Rather than look for other bands to watch, Jane insisted on going back to the hotel. She was in an extremely bitter mood and didn't want to be within ten miles of Jensen bloody Reed. Louise tried to talk to her on the car ride back, but she couldn't even answer her she was so livid. How did they manage to go to the wrong stage? How could they have missed Sweet Cacophony? How did they survive two whole hours of Jensen Reed? Jane opened the car door before Louise had even stopped in the parking space and stomped into the hotel foyer. Stabbing at the buttons outside the elevator, she muttered to herself feeling her cheeks burn. "Janey?" Louise tapped her shoulder.

"WHAT?" Jane replied grumpily.

"Look we can go and see them somewhere else, it's no big deal!" No big deal? Five whole months of therapy destroyed in two hours! No, Louise was right, it was no big deal...it was a huge deal!

"I just want to take a long, hot shower and wash away all that Jensen muck off of me, alright?" Louise nodded in agreement as they entered the elevator and headed up to their room.

After standing in the shower for a good half an hour, Jane finally emerged from the hotel bathroom in her pyjamas and wet hair hanging carelessly down her back. Her suitcase was sitting on top of her bed, it was open and clothes were half in and half out. Without hesitation she began to shove everything inside, re-entering the bathroom and gathering up her toiletries she threw them inside the case also as Louise looked on in confusion as she sat on her own bed. "What are you doing Janey?"

"I'm going home!" Jane replied with a grunt.

"But we have another week left, I have plans for us..."

"Yeah well, I want to go home!" Louise looked more sad than anything else, usually she got angry with Jane's impulsive tantrums. This week, it had been planned for such a long time, okay they didn't get to see Sweet Cacophony, but there was so much more for them to do! It looked like Jane was having none of it though, as she zipped her bulging suitcase closed roughly.

"Jane, this is stupid! Let's just enjoy the rest of our week. Why don't you sleep on it?" Trying not to lose her temper, Louise attempted to reason with her visibly enraged best friend.

"I'm going home tomorrow Lou, don't need to sleep on it!" Louise lost control and snapped.

"Well you can take the fucking train because I'm not driving you home!!!" Louise stood up and stormed out of the hotel room, leaving Jane to stew all by herself. Jensen Reed took up way too much of her life, the whole thing was all Jane's own making, and Louise was sick of it.

***

Taking Louise's words to heart, Jane got up early the next morning and headed to Central Station. It was a ten-minute walk from the hotel and her suitcase had wheels, which was helpful due to the sheer weight of it, carrying was not an option unless she wanted to end up in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. Sitting across from a coffee shop in the station waiting for her train, Jane wondered if she was cutting off her nose to spite her face. Should she have just stayed and tried to enjoy the rest of her week off with Louise? No, Jensen Reed destroyed all of her hopes and dreams once again with his stupid hair and annoying smile, grating voice that made you want to rip your own ears off...bastard! Sipping on the cappuccino she had bought was probably not a good idea, she was in a foul mood and caffeine only made Jane aggressive.

The train ride home was lonely and quiet. She felt bad for leaving Louise, but she couldn't stand to be in Glasgow for a minute longer, she just wanted to go home to her own bed and get on with her life. Then she remembered Eliza's competition win and the posters on her wall and the music blaring out of her room around the clock...and the rage boiled up again. I can't escape him, he's everywhere! Hot tears stung her cheeks as she glanced out of the window and saw sheep grazing in fields looking like they didn't have a care in the world, at that moment she wished she was a sheep, in the sheep world there was no Jensen Reed!

Monica was surprised to see her daughter appear at such an early time in the morning, dragging her suitcase mournfully across the back-room carpet and bumping it up the stairs in almost slow motion. "What are you doing here Jane? Aren't you supposed to be in Glasgow with Louise?"

"Please don't talk to me mum, I'm not in the mood!"

"Well tough!" Monica shouted back at her in a shrill tone, mug of tea in hand she followed her up the stairs with plenty of questions ready to fire in her direction. "Where's Louise?"

"Still in Glasgow!" Jane answered quietly as she elbowed her bedroom door open, hot on her heels her mother made several tutting sounds and slurped her tea noisily.

"Did you two have a falling out? I hope not, she's been a very good friend to you Jane, not many people would put up with your silly little...foibles!" Yes, Jane's silly little foibles, anxiety, and depression, two things that she inherited from her in the first place.

"Well they do say that being a nutter runs in the family!" The look of horror on Monica's face almost made Jane laugh, but she managed to compose herself.

"Jane you are not a nutter, you're just a very hard person to deal with. You're stubborn and you tend to shy away from anything remotely social, you're almost twenty seven and you still live here with me and your dad, you haven't brought a young man home in over ten years! I worry about you Janey, I really do."

"Well you always have Eliza to give you grandchildren!" Jane muttered irritably.

"That is not what worries me, I don't care about grandchildren Jane, I care about you! I just want you to be happy, if that means I don't get to be a grandmother then I don't mind, your happiness is all that matters!" Jane felt her eyes fill up as she turned her back on her mother, trying to sniff back any tears that attempted to fall.

"That's the thing though mum..." Time to be honest, even if it hurt her mother in the process, she needed to tell someone, "...I'm not happy! I'm so not happy, I'm miserable! I don't want to live anymore I really don't!" Jane's shoulders slumped and she turned to face her mother. Monica's face was ashen and her mug was tilting to the side in her hand. The expression on her face was one of astonishment, like someone had smacked her right across the cheek. There was a long silence before either of them spoke.

"I thought...I thought your appointments with Doctor Fisher were helping I...Jane I don't know what to do or say. Only that your dad and I both love you very much and we're always here for you." Monica placed her mug on top of Jane's desk and wrapped her in a warm, forceful hug. "Just tell me what I can do, what do you need?"

"I don't know mum!" Jane mumbled into her shoulder smelling her dressing gown, her mum's scent always calmed her but not this time, "I just feel so empty, and when I'm not feeling empty I feel so angry at everything and everyone! It's exhausting!" Monica rubbed her back affectionately and whispered in her ear.

"What is my darling?" Jane let out a heart wrenching sob and replied with just one, single word.

"Living!"

***

Jane hadn't heard from Louise in over three weeks, nor had Jane tried to contact Louise, there was a stalemate. They had argued before but it always blew over within minutes and it was forgotten, it had never gone on for this long. Jane was down about missing her favourite band, she was down about having to endure Jensen Reed's appalling antics for two whole hours, she was down about Eliza going on like a lunatic about her tickets, then there was Nancy. When Jane got back to work, Nancy had been unbearable, worse than ever, putting her in for shifts she didn't agree to and just being downright nasty in general. Jane had worked ten days in a row while Nancy was up in Lewis visiting her mother and relatives, she was exhausted and drained and needed a day off but had her own shifts to cover for the next four days. When Nancy returned on the Monday, Jane lost the will to live when she was put in for Ashley's Friday night shift along with her own which was going to result in her working fifteen days without a day off. "Nancy I can't do Friday!" Nancy turned a fetching shade of crimson and inhaled a sharp breath.

"Why not???" She blinked at her; her voice taking on an accusatorial tone, this was the last straw for Jane. It was none of her business why, Jane was entitled to refuse to work someone else's shift after racking up fourteen days in a row.

"Well if you must know, I need a day off! I'll be working an entire fortnight without a break as it is, I'm not doing her shift I'm sorry!" Nancy gave her the silent treatment after that, it was embarrassing in front of the customers, and any time that she did speak to her she bit her head off. Jane went home that night, sat down at her desk, and wrote her letter of resignation, she couldn't take any more!

The following morning, before Nancy arrived for her shift, Jane placed the resignation letter on top of the till behind the bar in plain sight. She also handed one into the chairman upstairs who tried very hard to change her mind, but she had already decided. Going into work that night was a combination of relief and dread, she still had to face Nancy. The old come into the toilets for a chat technique was attempted but Jane was having none of it, "No I won't!" She answered Nancy's request.

"Just for a minute, to talk?"

"No Nancy, I'm not going anywhere with you, not without a witness!" Nancy let out a small, stunned laugh and her eyes were as wide as saucers.

"That's a bit drastic, don't you think?" She replied to Jane breathily, her accent thicker than usual, obviously not understanding the seriousness of the situation, just Jane having one of her turns.

"No I don't think it's drastic when it comes to employment law!" Jane stood her ground, it had been a long time coming, almost a whole decade in fact. Nancy put her head down and gathered her things together.

"Well I'm very sorry you feel that way." Were her parting words, as she left without speaking to another soul. When the door shut behind her, Jane let out a breath she'd been holding in since she came in. By the end of the week she would never have to deal with that woman ever again. The only thing she regretted was leaving a job she loved. The fact that she was just handing in a week's notice and walking away should have been a reason for Nancy to thank her. Jane could have taken the club and the bar manager to an industrial tribunal for bullying in the workplace, but all she wanted was to get away from the whole toxic situation.

Over the course of Jane's final week, many of the members gave her good luck cards and bought her drinks, sad to see her go. There were some exceptions though, Nancy's clique, the President and Vice President of that clique being Molly and Dougie Egglesfield. They were Nancy's spies when she came off shift, they watched everything that Jane did and reported back, they were likely the ones who made complaints about her attitude. Jane looked at them sitting there, being uncharacteristically quiet, remembering one time when she arrived for a shift with a particularly painful headache. Jane was never one to be able to hide her feelings, pain was not something she could hide either. The first she knew of her feelings being painted all over her face was when Nancy ended her shift and sat at the bar with the Egglesfields, Dougie whispered to her "What's up with her face tonight?" nodding his head towards Jane as Nancy simply shrugged and sipped her vodka and coke. Later, when Nancy had gone home, Dougie had asked Jane "You okay pal?"

"Yes." Jane smiled as she poured a mixer from the gun into a glass, "Just have a really bad headache, but hopefully the painkillers will kick in soon." She saw the look of guilt on his face, miscalling her for something she couldn't control and meant no harm over, it had to be more than a coincidence that shortly after that particular exchange Nancy informed Jane of the complaints against her. Then again, Jane could have been wrong and the members could genuinely have hated her guts.

Her final shift was quiet, uneventful, and sad. Two of the regular ladies had given her flowers and a card and told her that they would really miss her. She closed up for the last time, turned off the lights, locked the door and walked away from something that had been a huge part of her life for nearly a decade. She got home where her parents were sitting in the front lounge watching late night television. Monica stood up and outstretched her arms, tilting her head to the side she mumbled, "Aww Janey, how was it?"

"Fine!" Jane sighed impatiently, she just wanted to go upstairs and wallow all by herself.

"Come here, I want a cuddle!" Her mother insisted, who was she to deny her? Obviously she needed it more than Jane did so she obliged. Wrapped in her mother's arms, she realised that she did need this, and the tears came. Her dad, not taking his eyes off of the television and sipping a can of beer chipped in.

"You will be missed Janey, who's going to decorate for Halloween and Christmas? Because I can tell you now, it won't be that lazy bitch!"

"Ricky!" Her mother scolded him, but secretly she agreed. Both her parents were members of the club, her dad being ex-army and on the committee. They may not have agreed with her leaving, but they stood by her regardless.

"I'm telling you! Davey is raging! He says he's lost his best barmaid!"

"Well of course he said that to you, you're my dad. What else is he going to say?" Jane muttered while trying to pry herself out of Monica's firm hold.

Once she got upstairs, after holding her breath as she passed Eliza's room blaring out River Monster, she dropped her bag on the floor and fell onto her bed and wept. She really was going to miss her job, she had nothing else lined up, it was just a spur of the moment thing she had decided to do. She had been at the end of her rope, no matter what Nancy would have said in the toilets had Jane gone with her, nothing would have changed her mind. She looked up at the night sky through the Velux window wishing she was on Mars, anywhere but here. Still hearing the thumping drums of Jonah Reed coming from Eliza, she wanted to close her eyes and never wake up. She had contemplated taking her own life many times over the past ten years, but this was different, she saw no end to her sadness. There was nothing for her in this world, what was the point of even being here. "I'm fat, ugly and jobless! Probably barren, have a terrible attitude, I'm rude...yeah a real catch!" Jane laughed bitterly to herself, not even having Louise to talk to during this whole ordeal was pushing her over the edge.

***

Jane didn't know when she fell asleep, fully clothed, on top of her bed but as she awoke the next morning she could hear the voices of her family downstairs in the kitchen. The television was blaring too, what time was it? She patted all over her bed for her phone, when she finally grasped a hold of it screwing her eyes to focus on the screen, it read 8:09am. Why was Eliza gibbering away like a budgie down there at this time on a Saturday morning?

Jane padded downstairs, still in her work clothes from the night before to see her sister sitting crossed legged on the floor with her nose practically pressed to the screen of the television, giggling away like a teenager. Over her head, Jane could see Jensen Reed sitting on the couch on Good Morning UK with that dazzling smile of his, wearing sunglasses in a studio?

Interviewer: So Jensen, the new film, Method of Madness. It's only July and there is already talk of an Oscar nod, were you expecting such a reaction to your performance?

Jensen: No, um, not at all! I was just so honoured to be working alongside such amazing actors that it was a dream for me to be in this movie. Anything else is...is just a bonus for me!

Gag! What a suck up, Jane thought to herself as she plopped down onto one of the seats behind Eliza who was bouncing up and down with excitement. Why was Jane even watching this? She hated the guy. Curiosity had a lot to answer for.

Interviewer: Is it true you watched One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest over a hundred times to prepare yourself for the role of Randy Burgess?

Jensen: Well, you know, I'm amazed at where people get these so-called facts from I really am. Yes I researched the role of Randy by watching several films similar to this one, it's something that most actors do, or watch documentaries about the subject matter. I wanted my portrayal of him to be genuine and authentic, so you do what you gotta do I suppose.

Interviewer: Now, onto your band, River Monster. Do you find it difficult touring with them and also promoting the film? I can imagine your work schedule is practically bursting at the seams.

Jensen: Well I'm a workaholic, so...yeah it's hard work juggling both careers but I love them equally and always find the time to do what I love. Oh and the tour starts here in the UK at the end of this month, O2 Arena! We've got the new album coming out tomorrow, Read the Room, our fifth album I should say...it's very personal to me...

Wow he was so full of his own importance, always talking about himself and never even mentioning the other members of the band, it was all me me me! Eliza was still giggling and bouncing as he talked, talked, and talked even more. "He's so hot!"

"Yeah sure, why does he wear sunglasses all the time these days? I mean he's indoors for fucks sake!" Jane mumbled behind her; this was met with Eliza's scowling face as she turned from the television.

"He's shy. You of all people should appreciate that he gets nervous when he does interviews!"

"He never used to wear sunglasses all the time Eliza, if you ask me since he won that Oscar he's climbed so far up his own arse no wonder he talks so much shite!" Eliza let out a tiny squeal and her face turned red. She didn't answer her sister, merely stood up and stomped off into her room. Jane watched the clip of his new film play after his interview ended, there was no denying that he was also a very good actor. It was just such a shame that despite all of that talent he was a really shitty person in real life.

Over the course of the next week, he was everywhere, spouting the same shit in every interview. It was taking its toll on Jane's already fragile mental health. Doctor Fisher had insisted on extending her sessions from eight to twelve as she had fallen slightly backwards in her progress. Louise had sent a text saying she was sorry to hear that Jane had left the club and that she was here if she needed to talk, but Jane merely replied with a thanks and left it at that. The problem was that Jane didn't want to talk, however much she needed to.

Jane retreated upstairs and barely left, no job to go to, no best friend to have a laugh with. Things were awkward between her and Louise despite the olive branch in the form of a text, she knew Louise would still be upset with her. Jane avoided everyone, barely went downstairs except for eating and collecting mail, while Eliza was psyching herself up for her big date with Jensen Reed in a few weeks' time. She was currently spending the entire summer break from college with her two henchwomen while Jane withered away up in her attic. Eliza was doing a beauty course at Ayrshire College just down the road from their home, she was thoroughly enjoying it and constantly pestered their mother to do her nails for practice. Monica had lovely nails and she could grow them without any bother, unlike Jane, if she wasn't biting them as a child then they were just breaking off over the slightest thing as an adult. Eliza wouldn't practice on her anyway, they weren't close enough for that.

Jane couldn't stand to listen to her sister talk about that man, it made her want to scream. There was no escaping him, he was on the radio, the television, in magazines, on social media...he was literally everywhere! Jane was even starting to dream about him and it was driving her round the bend. During her most recent session with Doctor Fisher, she felt she needed to discuss this particular thorn in her side no matter how ridiculous it sounded. "He's just everywhere right now and I hate it!"

"Hmm, yes I can understand why he would bother you Jane. You associate him with unpleasant experiences but I tend to agree with your friend, these incidents, and the fact that this individual happens to be on the radio or television at the time of each event is just a coincidence. What we need to do is focus your energy on a project, something to bring you out of your comfort zone again."

"Pfft, yeah because it worked so well last time!" Jane retorted as Doctor Fisher frowned.

"Yes well that was just down to poor navigation and timing Jane, not this man out to get you." Jane wished she could believe that but she wasn't in the right frame of mind to think logically. "Let's try again, why don't you go out to a bar or a café and have a couple of drinks with your friend, that's nothing too strenuous or stressful. Just two friends out for a chat?" Jane huffed and crossed her arms, sinking deeper into the comfy chair opposite Doctor Fisher who at that moment had a strained smile on her face. Obviously Jane was the client from hell. "It will only work for you if you are willing to work Jane, effort and patience go a long way!"

"I'll give it a go." Was Jane's half-hearted reply.

"Good, because I am concerned about the amount of time you are spending hidden away since you left your job, it's not at all healthy. Perhaps looking for another one might give you a new purpose?" It was worth a try, but Jane didn't have the energy nor the inclination to look for another job.

***

A few days crept by and Jane's mood still hadn't lifted, not even the tiniest bit. She still kept herself hidden away in her room upstairs, listening to Sweet Cacophony and weeping into her pillows. A harsh knock on the door made her jump but when it followed the voice of her best friend, it soothed her. "Janey I'm coming in, I don't give a rat's ass if you're decent or not, this has gone on long enough!" The door opened and Louise stood in the hallway, seeing the little bundle under Jane's duvet, she tilted her head to the side with a frown. "Right, stop feeling sorry for yourself and get up! It's the middle of the day and the sun is shining; we're going out into the garden so get dressed if you're not already!" With that she slammed the door shut, Jane could hear her stomping down the stairs as she lay still in her bed, knowing she had no choice but to get up and get dressed, but struggling to find the energy to do it.

Louise was sitting in the garden crocheting yet another sanity blanket as she called it, sunglasses on and a look of complete concentration. "Finally! I was beginning to think I'd have to drag you down the stairs wrapped in that duvet!" Jane let out a small laugh, she could just imagine her doing that, bumping her down the stairs and not caring if it hurt. Louise did tough love very well. "You didn't text or phone, I was worried about you Janey!"

"Yeah well...I've not really been in the talking or texting mood."

"I understand that it was a tough decision to give up your job, but you should have at least fought the bitch! Taken her to an industrial tribunal! She got off lightly!" Louise didn't look up from her blanket as she lectured her, she always thought that Jane was far too lenient with people.

"Do we have to talk about this? Can't you just tell me what you've been up to instead?" Jane stomped her foot lazily and whined like a child.

"No, because I'm not the one holed up in my room like Miss Havisham! Look Jane, you're still young, you have your whole life ahead of you. Live it!" Jane knew that Louise was right, but she just couldn't find the get-up-and-go. "On that note..." Louise bundled her project under her arm and rose from the garden chair, "...we're going down to the pound shops for a browse, get you out of the house before I strangle you with this blanket!" There was no point in arguing with her when she was like this, so Jane reluctantly agreed to dip her toe in the land of the living.

Jane had to admit that she had enjoyed her afternoon out with her best friend, Louise had told her that this past couple of months hadn't exactly been a picnic for her either as she had missed Jane a great deal. She told her that Jane's tantrum and subsequent walk-out had hurt her a lot, in turn this hurt Jane, to know that she was responsible for making Louise miserable for weeks and not even getting in touch with her. In fact it had been Louise that had made the first move a couple of weeks ago, Jane had a lot to make up for. Louise stayed for dinner then headed back to Glasgow and Jane was alone once again, apart from her parents and sister, she was completely alone.

Eliza was not only blasting River Monster from her room, but she was also singing at the top of her lungs, out of tune, to their latest album. Jane had listened to bits of it on Spotify and was surprised over how melancholy and depressing it was. Read the Room was darker and broodier than their last four albums, whoever wrote these songs was in a very bad place at the time. Remembering Eliza telling her that Jensen Reed wrote all of their songs, she wondered why his tone was so depressing all of a sudden, yes there were usually angry or heartbroken tracks on most of the albums, but there was always an equal mix of happy and not so happy emotions, this one was just bleak right through. Jane hated to admit that a lot of the lyrics resonated with her at that moment in time, it disturbed and comforted her all at once. The titles of the songs alone were enough to make you want to jump out the window in despair; Save Me from Myself, Apathetic, I Hate Your Voice, Fuck You Very Much, Lie After Lie and Jane's particular favourite, Just A Thing. That was about how people just saw an object rather than a human being, took that person for granted and thought it was okay to do or say whatever they wanted to that person and damn the consequences. They were pretty deep songs, something that Jane noticed her sister hadn't grasped or in fact read the room. She wrapped herself in a little cocoon and tried to get some sleep over the din of River Monster downstairs. She didn't have the energy to do anything anymore.

***

Showered and dressed the next morning, Jane thought she would try and live normally again, but her good intentions were destroyed at the sight of her sister and her cronies sitting around the television watching yet another Jensen Reed interview, this time he was going on about being a vegan and how the goats of the world could sleep soundly now that he was no longer sacrificing them, then he had to mention virgins too. He saved the best for last when he said that sacrificing virgins was all in his past, he was now dedicated to curing them of their virginity. Any kind of empathy Jane was feeling towards him had evaporated at the sight of that interview. Her sister on the other hand lapped it up with Stacy and Laura at her side, squeaking away like Alvin and the Chipmunks. What an abhorrent little man that Jensen Reed was, how did a creep like that get to live and Will was snuffed out in moments out of the blue? It made Jane so mad, so mad in fact that she stormed past her totally oblivious sister and her vacuous pals and into her room where Jensen towered over her bed, shirtless and smouldering with those glistening baby blue eyes and those tasteful tattoos on his arms, what a total and utter poser! I want you dead, I want you dead, Jane could hear the voice in her head screaming up at his smug face. I want you gone, I don't ever want to see you again, if I have to get rid of you myself then I will!!!

Jane had no idea how she got upstairs, how she ended up in her own room rocking back and forth on her bed hugging her knees up to her chest, clutching Eliza's two VIP tickets that she had won. All she knew was that she had to get rid of that abomination Jensen Reed! Her entire body was shaking, her head felt like cotton wool and there was a searing rage burning in the pit of her stomach, she had to be free of him! She couldn't take any more! She was going to destroy him, just like he had destroyed her...

⏮️Previous/Next⏭️

[worldfreshnews]

Paris suitcase murder: Main suspect in death of girl is 24-year-old woman with ‘psychiatric disorders’

Paris suitcase murder: Main suspect in death of girl is 24-year-old woman with ‘psychiatric disorders’

French police investigating the mysterious and brutal death of a 12-year-old girl whose body was found inside a suitcase in Paris last week are holding two suspects for questioning, including a 24-year-old woman who suffers from “psychiatric disorders,” according to a local report. The 12-year-old girl, identified only by her first name, Lola, was found dead Friday night in Paris, a few streets…

[into-wonderland-caroline]

This is something I wrote called; Never enough (I don't connect with people well)

Time- so quickly it is here and then slipping by. Like sand sifted between fingers. I feel it sleeping and this rush of conciousness to make these minutes count but I fail that second hand wasted it's ticks and tocks. Haunted by my inner mantra "there's never enough " as I rock....⬇️

Words I don't have the right ones and I am not well spoken out loud...anxious & gaze on the ground. The deer in head lights look meets angry psychiatric patient mixed with a cold distant corpse. I can't express my love and needing of it in return . Being known to a level that I may utter I love you sets fire to my skin to the third degree burn. There are not the right words neither are there enough to make sensical my unified cry please stay but stay the hell away. Therapy can't make this go - attachment disorder and trauma hit override so I will die inside screaming yes but my mouth speaks no. Words are not enough .⬇️

I am panicked and feel horrible about myself inside. I am too damaged to connect to be a good and normal daughter. I don't believe there is hope for me to heal. To be a good good sister, cousin, niece, friend, someday wife and mother, an independent adult member of society. Shit! I won't ever be enough. My heart is too broken but my eyes & body language stay flat and as I watch my father pack a suitcase of stuff to get on plane. My mind is screaming don't go don't don't don't don't go.

Do I say or show it ? No. He boards that plane and I am so broken I have failed time and words and failed to connect again...it is not ever enough.

[the-story-of-my-life-uncensored]

Stay for the Freedom Or Run To Be Captured.

Chapter 18

As Expected I got to the crumbly old building for my appointment with my Psychologist to my parents outside questioning where I’d been. I told them I didn’t want to do sports day so I just avoided it. They poked and prodded asking questions that I didn’t want to answer so hurried ahead to get to my appointment.

My Psychologist Kat (I assume she called herself that to sound cooler to the kids) was a young woman who looked like she had lived a pretty privileged life. Which I know sounds judgemental of me but she just seemed like it in the way she talked and the way she dressed but ultimately her decisions probably saved my life but not for many years to come. I went through a lot of shit in between but she probably kept me enough on the radar that I was too prolific to harm.

She had already been briefed by my parents and I was utterly bored of her questioning what and where I had been rather than school. I was truly dead inside at this point so I blurted out “I’ve been busy fucking someone and ruining myself, and I loved it” I didn’t love it but at this point I felt like my whole personality was built on my sexuality and that’s all I had left to give.

I could see Kats eyes widen as she decided which part to unpack and what question to ask and suddenly I found that we was spilling out my life, that when I ended up in hospital it was an overdose and that I’d made multiple attempts and that I was drinking and self-harming.

Suddenly it was like someone saw how dangerous I was to myself, not only in a self harming, suicidal way but in a psychological way. That I was unpredictable and manic that I was a ticking time bomb waiting to explode and bring casualties with me. Without any warning she cut herself off and picked up her phone and said to the person on the other end “I’m going to need you and I’m going to need you urgently in my office”

A gentle knock at the door, a middle aged lady walked in and introduced herself as Joy, I laughed at the irony whilst she introduced herself as a psychiatrist, to cut a long story short she explained to me they could get me an emergency place at the child psychiatric hospital next door. I laughed again and said “no way” I knew I would lose all freedom to essentially break and kill myself there. She explained if I didn’t agree to it they would fight to get me sectioned and essentially have no choice but to go there. The only thing working in my favour that day was the fact that it was now 5pm and everyone wanted to go home; I walked out, past my parents waiting in the car and hopped on a bus yet again having my music loud enough to drown out my thoughts, I had no idea where I was going but I was insulted that someone was trying to come between my plan to destroy myself.

Well clearly they was stronger as Two days later I was walking upto the doors with my suitcase in hand, knowing this would be the last time I had my freedom in a while.

[willardsuitcases]

Link to the Symposium

Link to the Symposium

Margaret D. Hi Everyone, here’s the link to the Saturday symposium. Starts at 1:00 PM this Saturday the 19th March. I’ll be speaking fairly early on, just after Craig Williams talks about the history of Willard. Check it out if you can. It should be amazing. https://sjfc.zoom.us/j/94378687995.