#so I've got a bit of a headache

[nerevar-quote-and-star]

And now for your TESblr-ing pleasure, another LDB crackship, but this time it's Galmar who gets to play "Will they, won't they?" with Leara

This did not put my bestie to sleep. But it did make her laugh, I think.

The peace council is over before Galmar realizes that the Dragonborn manipulated them all into nonaction without any secessions of territory or pride to the other side. If he wasn't relieved that the Stormcloaks would maintain the whole of Eastern Skyrim without sacrificing their honor to the Imperials, Galmar would feel the loss of Markarth silver more keenly.

Nothing that the war wouldn't soon win the Stormcloaks.

As the Stormcloacks prepared to leave High Hrothgar, Galmar catches sight of dark red hair disappearing through the doors to the courtyard from the corner of his eye.

"Where is she going?"

Beside him, Ulfric's mouth falls into a grim line, but if he knows, he doesn't say.

As they make their descent from the monastery, Galmar seeks Ralof. It is night on the Seven Thousand Steps: Despite the cold and blistering winds, they keep watch. The Imperials are only a few hundred yards further along the path. Too close for Galmar or Ulfric's comfort. Ralof is by the fire when Galmar settles beside him. The younger Nord's gaze is distant, but at the general's approach, he seems to come to himself.

"Couldn't sleep, General?" "With those Imperial dogs within an arrow's shot? Bah."

Ralof nods. They are silent for several moments, then Galmar speaks.

"What can you tell me about the Dragonborn?"

Ralof looks at him properly for the first time, eyes present and smoking under the firelight.

"What did you want to know, General?"

What didn't he want to know? The woman was a puzzle, maneuvering through politics in such a way that nothing changed except her own position. She was a ghost, a wisp

"She was at Helgen. Your report on the incident said she left with you and stayed with your sister. before heading to Whiterun." "If you're wondering why she was at Helgen, she was coming from Cyrodiil." "Why?"

Ralof shrugs.

"Never came up."

Then Ralof's eyes cut across the small encampment to the tent where Galmar knows Ulfric lay wide awake.

"Seemed nervous around Jarl Ulfric, though."

That the Dragonborn was nervous around Ulfric was not something Galmar picked up, and now he chastises himself for it. But now that he thinks back on it, the Dragonborn, tall in her own right despite her delicate frame, seemed to withdraw under Ulfric's gaze. Galmar's mind spun through many possible explanations, but he could rationalize none of them. Her pure stance of neutrality and the rumors of her service to the people of Skyrim couldn't rationalize with the cosmopolitan Half-elf who was seemingly afraid of Ulfric Stormcloak.

Galmar, never one to back down from a challenge, asks Ulfric what the Hell he did to the Dragonborn. He waits only for them to return to Windhelm and the privacy of the war room.

"What?" "Don't tell me you didn't notice the girl wouldn't look you in the eye." ". . .and so I must have done something to her?" "She has some kind of problem with you."

Ulfric grimaces.

"Galmar, if you were any one else, I'd clap you in irons for such an accusation." "If I were anyone else, I'd have actually accused you of something instead of asking."

The thing is, Ulfric doesn't know. The few times he's met the Dragonborn, she's shied away from him. This doesn't help Galmar.

What made someone so sacrificial so skittish?

When news comes that the World-Eater has been defeated and the Dragonborn is once again wandering through Skyrim, helping the needy on both sides of the war, this question burrows deeper into Galmar. He doesn't understand her.

When he voices his wonderment to Yrsarald, the other general just scoffs with a shake of his head.

"You'll want to keep an eye on her. I don't trust her." "Hmm."

The thing was, even if the Dragonborn didn't seem to trust Ulfric or the Stormcloacks or, perhaps, anyone, Galmar found himself trusting her. Her every play seemed to be for the betterment of Skyrim and her people. Yrsarald's musings that she was a Thalmor plant didn't sit right with Galmar. Even if that explained her neutrality at High Hrothgar and her aversion to Ulfric, the Dragonborn was too giving to be under the thumb of the Dominion.

At least, Galmar didn't think she was.

Then she sweeps into Windhelm like a spring wind, still cold from the death of winter but breathing new life in her wake.

Galmar is in Candlehearth Hall when the Dragonborn appears at the end of the bar, wearing a blue dress not dissimilar to the one she wore during the peace council. She offers him a smile.

"I don't think we were formally introduced: Leara Ormand."

Galmar gives her a nod, greeting her as he takes in the wide eyes and curling red hair. All the power of a dragon inside such a frail woman. But she defeated Alduin.

What was she afraid of?

Galmar is aware of Leara in the peripheral as she inserts herself into the investigations concerning the recent string of murders in the city. Ulfric is distracted by the war effort and the guards are spread thin as it is. Yrsarald advises they keep an eye on her, and Galmar agrees, though he thinks it is for a different reason than Thrice-Pierced. Yrsarald is thinking of the safety of WIndhelm and her Jarl. Galmar, Housecarl though he was, was thinking of the fear and frailty that seemed to shroud Leara.

This point is driven home when Leara catches the Butcher and recieves a knife wound in thanks.

Galmar visits her at Candlehearth, finding her reclined in a chair by the fireside. A plate with a half-eaten apple tart sits on the table nearby, but she's more engrossed in the cup of tea he helps her pour.

"I'm all right, General, though I thank you for your concern." "Thank me by not dying while in Windhelm. The Imperials will start pointing fingers."

Leara laughs, and Galmar finds himself chuckling with her.

After that, Galmar finds himself visiting Leara as she recovers. It isn't as if he didn't already leave to go to the bar, but now that dropping in on Leara is a part of that routine, Galmar becomes hyperaware of Ulfric and Yrsarald watching him. One night, over a week after Galmar first visited Leara, he turns to Ulfric.

"You could come with me."

It wasn't as if Ulfric never came with him to the bar. Maybe some housecarls got ornery about their Jarls visiting the local taverns, but Galmar never saw the harm in it. Actually, it was good for morale for the people to see the Jarl out amung them.

Ulfric frowns, his hand on his beard.

"I don't want to impose on the Dragonborn. She won't want to see me."

Galmar scoffs.

"Just say hello to her and then find us a table. That's hardly bothering her."

Galmar almost regrets asking Ulfric to come when Leara's eyes find the Jarl across the room and instantly widen into saucers. The fork in her hand, speared with apple tart, quivers before she sets it back on the plate.

(Why did she always have sweets when he came to visit? From what Galmar had seen, she never seemed particularly interested in them.)

Leara makes to stand, but Ulfric holds up a hand.

"Jarl Ulfric!" "Good evening, Miss Ormand. I want to thank you for the services you've rendered my people. Galmar has told me how you're recovering." "Oh, it was my pleasure. I, I'm just glad to have prevented any more deaths."

Ulfric offers Leara a soft smile. Galmar blinks as a rosy hue stains Leara's ears.

Ulfric does not leave to find a table. Leara invites them to sit with her. By the end of the evening, Galmar is reassessing everything he thought he knew about Leara's perception of Ulfric. There was a certain wariness in her shoulders when the Jarl was around, but she appeared somehow softer as she spoke to him.

Something twisted in Galmar's stomach.

Less than two weeks later, Leara is gone.

"Not for long, I think I'd like to come back."

But when Leara smiles at him. Galmar can't help but remember the smiles she gave Ulfric. No, she wasn't afraid.

She's . . . Galmar couldn't acknowledge it.

Not yet.

Galmar can't devote all his time to the Dragonborn, however. There's still a war on, and dragons about, though they seemed less troublesome since Leara defeated the World-Eater. It was wishful thinking that she would bring that same cany peace to the war that she did to the dragons. But Galmar could dream.

And he did, often. Out in the camps, strategizing with the commanders and coordinating movements, Galmar found himself pinpointing missions that the Dragonborn would excell at. He could almost see her flitting through the camp, a Stormcloak blue cloack with the bear insignia thrown over her silver armor.

Damn it, Galmar missed the elf.

He could see Yrsarald shaking his head.

Fort Snowhawk is a strategic position in Hjaalmarch. Seixing it would give them a launching point to take Morthal and seize the hold, bringing them right to Solitude's doorstep. But the winter is settling in and with it, storms.

Galmar is tired of the cold.

"General, someone to see you." "Who is it?" "Says she's the Dragonborn."

Galmar nearly knocks his half empty bottle of ale off the table in his haste.

There she was, a brown hood barely containing the riot of dark hair.

"If you're here to help, then it's about damn time."

She laughs. Galmar missed her laugh.

"I'm afraid this isn't that kind of call, General Stone-Fist."

Then Leara hands him an old leather wrapped scroll. Galmar stands at it.

"Forgive my ignorance, but I believe this is something you're looking for."

Galmar's mouth is dry as he unravels the scroll. And there it is. The map to the Jagged Crown.

"I knew those pointy ears of yours were good for something." "Listening is one of my special talents."

Leara's smile is coy. Galmar wants to ask her about her other talents, but this wasn't the time (if the time ever even came).

"Has Jarl Ulfric seen this?" "No? He wasn't the one searching for it." "He'll need to be told." "Surprise him."

Leara's smile widens a fraction. Galmar swallows.

Leara is there at Korvanjund when they retrieve the Jagged Crown. Galmar can't say he's not glad she's there: She always seems one step ahead of the Imperials, bandits, and draugr that dog their path. But by Talos, until she joins the Stormcloacks formally, she's a liability.

Just as quickly as Galmar recalls her blush and downcast eyes when meeting Ulfric in Candlehearth, he recalls her iron hand at the negotiation table that held both sides in check. Trusting her was easy when she didn't insert herself in the middle of Stormcloak special operations, moving through them like a needle through thread.

. . . even if Leara was uncannily helpful.

"I hear Leara has been instrumental in a few of your recent ventures." "It would seem so."

Ulfric's jovial tone does nothing to raise Galmar's spirits.

Why won't she commit?"

"You seem troubled." "The Dragonborn troubles me." "She didn't before. What's changed?" "Does it not bother you that she hasn't sworn loyalty to the cause?"

Ulfric's face falls into thought.

"She won't betray me." "That's not my concern."

Surprise colors Ulfric's face.

"Then what are you worried about?"

Galmar shakes his head. But in his gut, he somehow knows that an oath of fealty isn't needed to bind Leara and Ulfric together. That more than anything ticked at him. She wouldn't betray the Stormcloacks -- Ulfric -- to the Empire or the Dominion. Galmar knew that all too well.

Leara's aquisition of Hjerim only strengthens his certainty.

"Do you want to come over for dinner?"

Galmar stares at her.

Leara is in another blue dress, this one a cool blue like frost. A basket of produce is hooked at her elbow.

"Galmar, would you like to have dinner tonight?" "That depends, can you cook?" "Yes, and I can bake too!"

The smile and laughter together. Golden blue and morning birds. She reminded him of Cyrodiil, or at least the parts he'd seen that weren't burned in battle.

He watches her stroll away through the market before realizing he never asked who else would be at Hjerim that evening. Well, he knows for sure at least one person . . .

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Clenching his jaw, Galmar crosses his arms.

"You mean she didn't invite you to dinner?"

Ulfric shrugs, clearly just as baffled.

Women. Who could understand them?

When he shows up at Hjerim, there is literally no one else there. Except Leara, of course. And her housecarl from Whiterun. But the dark-haired woman just smirks at him before disappearing upstairs with a bottle of ale and a tray of shortbread.

What was going on?

"Won't you sit down?"

Galmar sits down. Leara wasn't kidding before when she said she could cook: There is a lamb roast, potatoes and carrots, hot bread, butter, several sliced cheeses, and braised cabbage. In her hands, Leara cradles a Breton vintage he can't place.

"There's a custard in the kitchen. I couldn't get any lemons, so I bought some snowberry jam and siwrled it in."

His throat dry, Galmar can only nod. There is an honest, earnest light in Leara's eyes that he can't quite face.

He would.

"Jarl Ulfric doesn't like snowberry jam." "And? What does he have to do with our dinner?" "It's something to keep in mind before you serve him the real mean." "The real meal? What are you talking about?" "This is a practice dinner before you ask Jarl Ulfric to come here."

The yellow-white bottle makes a soft thud as Leara deposites it on the table. Her eyes fix on Galmar, her mouth pops open.

"Is that . . . are you serious? No, of course you are!"

Ah. She was upset. Before Galmar can puzzle out how he's upset her, Leara sinks into a chair, her head in her hands. Galmar braces himself for either crying or some other hysterics, but no, Leara only sighs. Sitting beside her, Galmar clears his throat.

"Look, you don't get where I am in life without being able to admit you're wrong. This isn't some test run for a fancy meal for Ulfric, is it?" "Not at all."

She props her chin on the heel of her palm, a vaguely amused quirk to her otherwise tired mouth.

"It's for you." "I see that now, Ormand." "Do you?"

Then Leara is facing him, a hard set to her pale gold face. She looks far too Altmer in that moment, and Galmar only just refrains from shifting in agitation from the abrasive moonstone in her gaze.

"It was all for you."

This admission is so sudden, Galmar can't hold back the stunned,

"What?"

that escapes him.

Nodding, Leara squares her shoulders.

"The Jagged Crown? The field work? The brawl in Dawnstar--" "The what." "Oh, never mind that! Don't get distracted!" "You got into a brawl--" "For you!" "Why would you do something so stupid?!"

Reflectively, other women might have slapped him or screamed at him. If he were very lucky, they might only vocalize wordless frustration and then storm off.

Leara is not other women.

A slender hand reaches up and pats Galmar's cheek, before settling to rest on his jaw. Galmar's insides churn, heating. Leara's smile is accommodating and amused.

Oh.

Then she pinches his sideburns, not quite gently.

"You drove me to foolishness."

Then Leara is kissing him, and Galmar is very glad that this is not a practice dinner for Ulfric because after this, he isn't letting Leara run off to another man, even if that man is his Jarl and oldest friend. And then all thoughts of Ulfric and Leara and Ulfric together disappear. Everything is Leara, her warmth contrasting the taste of frost and winter on her tongue.

He pulls her into his lap so he can wrap his arms around her. Blue skirts fall like glacial water over his knees as Leara presses into him, her arms winding around his neck.

The bear helm hits the floor.

Galmar growls and stands, arms full of Dragonborn. He trails kisses down her jaw, hoisting her up to better access her neck.

"Galmar . . . dinner . . ." "We'll have dinner, don't worry."

And they do. And then they have the lamb for dessert. If it's a bit cold, Galmar doesn't complain. He's warm enough, laying on the hearth rug with Leara. Tomorrow, he would feel it in his back, but tonight, he was quite content where he was.

However, when Leara rouses him at half past three to come to eat custard with her in her bed, Galmar doesn't regret following her. somewhere more comfortable

The next day, when Ulfric discovers just what dinner with Leara had led to, Galmar can only laugh at his friend's slackjawed face. Later when he tells Leara about it (mercifully nested in her bed), she finds it as funny as Galmar did.

There's still a war going on and dragons are still terrorizing innocent farmers and travellers. Talos help him, but he's got to get Ulfric through the Moot and on the throne without any idiotic heroics or ill-begotten assassination attempts. It's all a bit daunting, but Leara's there, and if there's one thing Galmar knows, it's that he can trust her to be there when he needs her. And she'll be there, iron fist and all.

fin

[front-facing-pokemon]

[sonego]

gonna get personal in the tags sorryyyyy

shit i ran out of tags to use GKBKGKDKKDBJDMBMN ok rest under a read more 😭

so okay basically my doctor said sure i'll write you the prescription and also wait should i add it to your regularly taken meds page (so i can request it with a click when i run out)? and i was like yeah that'd be nice and i tried to explain that i thought i would only need for a short period of time but i still need it after many months so... but like he didn't care about the why lol

and anyway now that this has happened i'm like. gonna try to Stop doing what i was doing. there is no good reason to be in pain all the time and make my life harder when taking that dose of my med was working okay and making things considerably better. i don't need to punish myself. this is like so so so hard for me to internalize. being disabled is not a fault. even if it might be my "fault", even if i lowkey feel like i might have contributed to the condition i am in with like, bad choices or whatever, it's still not right to punish myself for it. i'm already unwell, i'm already suffering, what's making it worse gonna do to help? why do i need to feel worse just so i can think i got what i deserve for being in pain in the first place?

so yeah. going back to the higher dose. i hope that makes me feel less pain. i hope i can work without hating every second of it again. i do still hope one day i can get better and not need this med anymore, it's not like i've given up on that bc tbh a lot's still unclear and i will try and see if i can find answers. but in the meantime, no more punishing myself. i need to be okay. i want to be okay.

[chromatic-casino]

empires fanon swap request: fwhip from sanctuary!

I might've misread the prompt because I assume you take an idea from season one and change it for season two BUT. Here's the concept (art & notes):

fWhip trades wood types from the Nether in the overworld, as well as Nether Stars. These are rarer and he only really gives them out to allies since he says it takes a lot of effort for him to get them and he's very attached to them. He has some plants naturally growing on him, mainly from Crimson Trees, and has more of an interest in fixing anything that goes wrong rather than anything being corrupted and helping it, so on and so forth. His clothes would also have embroided vines on it, but its most noticeable on his jacket. Whoever runs Chromia would probably do it in exchange for one of his stars. His version of the Sanctuary would also be a place for people to send Nether mobs that wander into the Overworld -- mainly things like zombie Hoglins that would take a while to return.

And now the doodle that. is admittedly a bit rushed since it's getting quite late here. While the design isn't much different from season one, he would keep the googles because I imagine he would take an industrial angle to the wood business and you don't want chips in your eyes. He has a Nether Star pin badge holding his scarf together too.

[theflyingfeeling]

still sick but alive, unfortunately 🤧

[haberdashing]

for some reason tonight i keep thinking about how deeply weird my medical history is

not primarily in a chronic illness sort of way, mind you. what chronic illnesses i have are fairly minor and unrelated to most of this. and not in an accident-prone way either: i've only broken a bone once in my life, and that wasn't until my late 20s!

but like

"thyroid issues?" "does that time i got diagnosed with an overactive thyroid in high school and went on medication for a few months count?"

"history of anemia?" "yeah, again, high school. ooh, i wonder if those could be related?"

"your heart rate's awfully high, did you know that?" "oh yeah, that's been an issue for a while now. at least since high school. yep, high school again, heh! but two different cardiologists a decade apart told me it's fine so i guess it's no big deal, right?

"okay... any recurring infections?" "well all throughout childhood i had what was like pinkeye but chronic. turns out it was herpes. in my eye. eye herpes. but it's been a few years now since that's popped up! oh, though i did have a yeast infection last time i checked, and i'm not sure if that ever went away..."

"when's the last time you went to the hospital?" "uh, does the top surgery place count? probably not, how about after i broke my leg? because before that i think it was when i was in the ER the night before my high school graduation, but like, that's a while ago"

"do you remember the last time you threw up?" "well i have this thing where sometimes i wake up in the middle of the night and my stomach hurts and i'm overheated and i just kind of lay in the bathroom for the better part of an hour until i puke... that only happens every few months though, not that big a deal"

"uh, have you had issues donating blood?" "oh yeah, you wanna know about the time i threw up, the time i passed out, the time my blood didn't flow right, or the time i almost got rejected for iron levels? probably not that last one, that's boring, and we covered the anemia already..."

"issues with nosebleeds?" "not lately, but when i was a kid i got them all the time!"

"touched your own blood lately?" "look, i like to pick at scabs sometimes, okay?"

"any medical devices in your body? metal implants?" "well after i broke my leg they stuck a metal plate and screws in there so now i'm a cyborg!"

"low... testosterone, it says?" "yeah, weird one, heh, seeing an endocrinologist about that next week actually"

"you were on vitamin D- a prescription amount?" "yep, i was low on that too! might still be, but at least now i'm not on the horse pills for it"

"any issues with headaches, stomachaches, random body aches?" "well the metal plate in my leg aches a bit after a lot of walking. but headaches happen a lot too. especially when it rains. i'm like a living barometer!"

"your heart rate's awfully high, did you know that?" "oh yeah, that's been an issue for a while now. at least since high school. yep, high school again, heh! but two different cardiologists a decade apart told me it's fine so i guess it's no big deal, right?"

"ever had an mri, cat scan-" "oh yeah, looked into my headaches when i was a kid, went through the whole drill"

"ekg, holter monitor-" "and those were for the high heart rate!"

"lumbar puncture?" "headache again! that one honestly wasn't as bad as i expected. though that's not saying much."

"it says here you had… MRSA?" "oh yeah, heh, funny story. antibiotics cleared it right up, but i almost didn't go to the doctor. i mean, who wants to talk to the doctor about a literal pain in the ass?"

*doctor throws clipboard into the air*

[i-am-a-fucking-nerd]

have a horrible headache and usually headaches are a combo of things (esp not eating/sleeping enough) which could be the reason i have one today but. also i smoked thu which was 2 days ago and usually i get a headache 2 days after smoking. and im just. i already wrote a diary entry talking abt it and how i feel guilty and bad for like a million different reasons but now i'm also just incredibly frustrated w myself bc why do i do this!!!!!!!!!!!! i can go weeks and months w/o smoking i don't NEED to do this!!!!!

[justinefrischmanngf]

tomorrow plans: boxing class + deep fucking cleaning + go to the library <3

[familyofpaladins]

hey guys, I know a couple weeks ago I said I was gonna do the lmk 6 characters fanart and post it at the end of the week, and then never did?

Well I'm still gonna do it! Eventually

That week, I was still waiting for a couple more characters and was finishing up that little animation thing I did.

Then the next week my family got busy with prepping stuff for a party thing to celebrate my parents anniversary a d my brothers anniversary (combination party even tho the anniversaries aren't actually at the same time).

The actual party was this past weekend and went well but also apparently drained my energy lol

I also saw guardians of the galaxy 3 and had been occupying my free time reading rocket raccoon fanfiction haha

So idk if I'm going to get around to finishing it this week, but hopefully if not, I'll get it done next week

[luxdea]

i’ve got a blog to-do list starting with fix my pages

[the-rogue-mockingjay]

Day 6 of this godforsaken migraine and I don't have a single medication to treat it. Just an ice pack and a prayer.

Just how bad do things have to get before the doctors will give me something, literally anything, to help????

[letstalkaboutfandomsbaby]

I have had just the worst day and i need to be held and babied and fucked gently until i fall asleep :(

[senadimell]

Huh. Kinda wondering if this happened to me...

[kaeyaphile]

i really i could watch the streaming of video games without becoming violently nauseated but alas

[peachydinosaur]

had an upsetting and disturbing interaction in the Walmart parking lot today that triggered a pretty bad adrenaline surge (i have POTS so they can be very intense and hard to recover from) (long story short someone was driving like an asshole and blocking me/menacing me/yelling at me, i flipped him off, he tried to hit my car with his car) but I'm feeling better and better about it bc... that's an insane reaction to have. 'oh someone flipped me off, a valid reaction to this is to try to hit their car with mine'

also feeling better thinking of the look on his face after he did it. he *had* been laughing, feeling like a big man, but he did that and i just started fucking screaming and pointing and whatever fucking hand gestures, and the pedestriansvwere just looking at him like 'what the actual fuck' and a few of them scurried away, he looked startled and THEN he reversed to give me room to leave. guess he wanted me to start sniveling and apologizing? like 'nooooo I'm sooooo sorry PLEASE don't hit my poor little car with your big manly car 😭' but instead i had the entirely reasonable reaction of anger and screaming at him. i don't think I've yelled that loud in years.

like what in the actual fuck? what kind of reaction is that? 'you're doing what I've indicated that i want you to do and trying to drive away, but you flipped me off. let me just. crank my steering wheel towards you and accelerate towards your vehicle at a speed that's unsafe for parking lots and then slam on the brakes a foot away from hitting you' like his truck moved at least half a car length in no fucking time and if i hadn't ALSO slammed on my brakes he would've hit me. that is NOT in any realm a normal or reasonable thing to choose to do

i was backing out of my fucking parking spot. at the point where you've pulled out of the spot and now you're kind of in the middle of the lane, i had my wheels turned all the way and was going forward to get into my lane. dude zooms up, pulls up on the right so that I can't pull into the lane like normal, and when i give him the 'what are you doing?' hand gesture/look he starts pointing at me to go around him. and that's literally not how parking lots work what the fuck do you mean dude why are you are on the wrong side of the road just let me leave. so, confused, i point and gesture for him to go to the left of me like a normal fucking person. I'm just going 'what the hell am i supposed to do' because i don't WANT to be driving on the wrong side of the road in a busy parking lot, but there's cars behind me too so i can't back up. I'm sitting like that for maybe five seconds. apparently he is very unhappy that i pointed for him to go through the parking lot like a normal person and very unhappy that i didn't immediately and happily drive onto the wrong side of the road in a busy parking lot so he drives closer to me and starts yelling and pointing and getting mad. so i flip him off, i don't know why. i was startled i guess but i have a rule where i don't flip off other drivers if they're gonna see it. just panicked. i don't do that. that's not something i do. so yeah okay, whatever, I'm startled and I'd like to get the fuck out of this situation and the only option at this point is to drive around him. so i start trying to and he pulls that shit. THAT'S FUCKING INSANE!! IN WHAT UNIVERSE IS THAT A THING A PERSON WOULD DO?? WHERE DO YOU LIVE WHERE A NORMAL AND REASONABLE THING TO DO IS MAKE SOMEONE THINK YOU'RE ABOUT TO SLAM YOUR CAR INTO THEIRS???? sir you are unwell

i don't know if anyone's even going to read this but like. have you ever seen someone accelerating towards you and thought you were about to be in a head on collision? that's fucking terrifying. in that moment your brain doesn't go 'there's not enough room for him to accelerate enough to cause me lasting bodily harm' your brain goes 'I'm about to be in a head on collision'

like. should i have flipped him off? no, i don't know why i did, i genuinely do not do that like ever. is there any world where if you sat me down and walked me through the interaction leading up to that where i would guess his next action is to consciously try to cause an accident in the Walmart parking lot? there is no such world, if it hadn't happened to me i don't think i could've ever come up with it

when he backed off and looked a little startled i think it was less that he felt bad for what he did or realized he was in the wrong and more he realized 'there are at least five people standing/walking in this parking lot that just saw me do that. if i do anything else I'm not going to get away with it' and like look at the optics on that. him, 50 year old man in his massive new looking red truck, on the wrong side of the road, to me, young woman in a 25 year old sedan. that's not a good look for him. maybe he was startled that my response was anger and screaming, like, he definitely wasn't expecting that. i don't fucking know. i just know that it's fucking insane to try to cause an accident in the Walmart parking lot