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leechonspeeddial · 3 years

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Midnight Shift: Carry On, Citizen Fang

Summary: Something wicked this way comes. If only Resentment could figure out if it was the same thing that stunk up the Burger King. Chapters: 2/? Read on ao3

Straight Kevin had been very understanding about my family emergency – He was super duper cool with manning the restaurant all by his lonesome. Sadly, he wasn't understanding enough to let me get away with not telling Gay Kevin about it – which wasn't very super duper cool of him, now was it?

He didn't even have the decency to offer to call for me, the fucking coward.

"Are you certain it's an emergency?"

I rolled my eyes and skipped over the muddy snow pile blocking the sidewalk. I felt a sense of kinship with the season. Besides the cold and death, Winter went all out when it came to inconveniencing the population.

"Trust me, Kev. If I wanted to blow off work, I'd do it on location. I'm not exactly in a rush to get home, ya know?"

The line went quiet for exactly five seconds and I could picture him doing that breathing exercise he did whenever he was fed up with my shit. I took the opportunity to loudly slurp my mello yello.

Delicious.

"I don't know, you could be ditching to hang out with friends or something. Teens do that. I did that." I almost laughed, as if.

"I spend all of my free time at work and everyone my age thinks I'm pregnant with an incest baby. Bold of you to assume I even have friends."

"You would get friends if you felt like it would inconvenience me. And it would really inconvenience me right now"

"Ugh. Don't be so dramatic. I don't do things just to be a general nuisance," I heard a snort that didn't come from Gay Kevin. "Wait, did you put me on speaker?!"

"What's the word, Res" Not Kevin chimed in before being shushed by Gay Kevin.

"Relax, we're loading the rental. I don't exactly have a free hand."

"So? This only needed to be like two seconds. Take a five or something."

"I'm going to level with you, our new napkin guy gives me real sketch vibes. Any second where we're not loading, it's an additional second we have to spend here. I simply refuse to die in a dilapidated warehouse, Resentment. I refuse."

I crossed the street to take the park shortcut home. A couple of high schoolers were vaping by the swings; they stared at me and I ignored them.

"I think you'd survive. You exude final girl energy"

"Have you ever watched a horror movie? I'd literally die first"

"I watched Practical Magic once" I smirked when Not Kevin groaned.

My satisfaction didn't last long, because no more than a second later, a snowball hit the back of my head. I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I couldn't gloat to Edward about having the moral high ground if I murdered every minor annoyance that crossed my path.

It just sucked having to ignore my vampire senses because I had to play human. What was the point of knowing something was coming if you were unable to stop it because you had to keep up appearances? In my opinion, humans should just have to deal with the knowledge of the supernatural. They were big kids, we didn't need to coddle them anymore.

It was 2022, for God's sake.

I turned back scowling and flipped off the fuckers. I recognized High-Pony in the group and decided to give her the soggiest, saddest, AND smallest fries next time she dared enter my work.

Maybe even sprinkle some burnt ones for extra flavor.

"I know what you're doing and I'm begging you to stop. I'm the one who has to deal with him for the next two hours"

"Don't be rude. Not Kevin is a gift," I glared at the group and slowly walked away backwards. At least until they were out of my sight. The Cullens were insane for going back to high school as often as they did.

"Ha. It's nice to be appreciated"

"Truly. Short of a museum, where else are you going to find something so old?"

"Boo. Get new jokes, the material is stale," I rolled my eyes as I shook the snow from my hair. I was rapidly approaching home and I wasn't quite prepared to go in.

For one, how was I supposed to keep my new mystery to myself if that's what Alice saw? It wasn't fair. To think I had only been worried about Big Brother and his thought police...

Reflecting on it though, if Alice saw my mystery man, then wouldn't that mean he was either a vampire or a human? Ergo, something neither mysterious nor interesting.

Disappointing.

"Whatever, gramps"

"Ok, ok. Let's get back on topic –"

"You gotta start trying harder, Chucky. You're far from the only teen girl that calls me ancient on the regular."

"Why are you regularly taking to teenage girls, creep?"

"Guys –"

"That's not what–! I foster kids!"

"Yeah, sure, pervert"

"I'm NOT –"

"OK RESENTMENT, DEAL WITH YOUR FAMILY. HANGING UP NOW"

I stopped walking and stared at my phone. Despite the length of the call, there had been no new messages from my family. I was unsure if that was a good sign.

I took a sip from my drink and was disappointed to find I only had ice left. I wondered if that was thematically significant, or maybe even foreshadowing.

Sigh.

I picked up my pace and tried to empty my mind before arriving home. "No thoughts, head empty" was a good mantra when you lived with a mind reader.

The rest of the walk was fairly uneventful, save for some guy who got attacked by a flock of ducks for getting way too close without enough food. Beware, all amateur wildlife photographers, lest the same fate falls upon you, I guess.

Poor guy even lost his coat. I was happy to assume it was the first casualty under the duck assault.

I slowed down when I finally arrived across the street from my home. The newest Cullen mansion stood foreboding before me. A concrete monument full of sharp lines and odd angles; despite all of Esme's soft touches, brutalism simply exuded hostility and soullessness. Try as she might, there was a limit to how much you could dress up a giant grey concrete block to make it look approachable – and if we were being honest, it wasn't working.

How's that for a metaphor?

Well. There was no use delaying the inevitable.

I entered the house.

[Scene Break]

Being a half-vampire meant that I always felt at a misstep with everyone around me. To me, humanity was more of a scientific field of study that I took interest in and less of a dearly held-on memento of a bygone era or something that I simply had.

From the vampire side of things, while I was clearly an abomination, my existence didn't require me to be a parasitic blood freak. That put me in a different head space from the rest of my family. For one, I didn't need to agonize over my monstrous nature; secondly, I wasn't a slave to my bloodlust if I kept myself full of human food; and thirdly, there just wasn't much precedent for me to measure up to.

For all we knew, everything I did was the best I could have done.

That was all to say, I always felt like there was something I was missing when interacting with anyone. My point of view was fundamentally a different one, and though some things I could make sense of theoretically, it wasn't the same as first-hand experience.

Standing in the living room, surrounded by my family as they continued to say nothing, I couldn't help but think that perhaps this time the context I was missing had nothing to do with my hybrid status.

Edward paced while looking constipated but everyone else stood motionless and rigidly like the statues they were. Not even Emmett tried to lighten the mood, and that's how you knew it was serious.

"So who's going to who's funeral? Please don't say any of my coworkers, I've grown quite attached to them"

"Renesmee," Edward warned. I ignore him like he ignored my preferred name.

"Is it you pops? Wanna crack open another high school girl and drink her up like grape soda?"

"For once in your life could you stop acting like a brat?" Edward snapped and I flinched.

"Takes one to know one. Maybe if you didn't raise one you wouldn't have to deal with one, dad"

"Enough!" We both turned to look at Carlisle and I could see how unsettled he was. My stomach churned.

"Maybe my vision was wrong. Maybe it wasn't him," Alice sounded desperate, almost like the time the truck transporting her latest Givenchy haul got into a freak accident and the customer service lady told her they couldn't replace her order until after whatever microtrend that had been happening at the time ended.

"No, Alice. I saw your vision. It was. No doubt about it, that face is burned in my memory"

"It just doesn't make any sense, Edward!"

"I know what I saw," he replied forcefully.

Carlisle rubbed at his eyes, and for the briefest of seconds, you could have mistaken him for human.

"What's going on? You guys are scaring me," nothing felt right and all I wanted to do was to get back to the Burger King. At least the Kevins kept me in the loop when potentially life-threatening stuff happened.

"James is back," Bella whispered and I looked at her. Out of all of the Cullens, she looked the least worried. While everyone else's expressions visibly darkened at hearing the name, Bella said the name like she would say any name that wasn't Edward's.

"Who the fuck is James?"

"He was a vampire," Jasper growled.

"So what's the big deal? I don't know if you have noticed, but all of you are vampires"

"Emphasis on the was, Nessie. We ripped apart the bastard a good 16 years ago," Emmet explained. I raised my eyebrow.

"You sure about that? Last I heard, once you killed the undead, they were dead for good. No such thing as an undead undead."

"Oh, damn sure. We tore into him like frenzied piranhas at lunchtime and then lit him like a firework on the Fourth of July," Rosalie lightly hit his arm.

"You don't have to be so graphic about it"

"So it's obviously not him," Edward made a noise filled with frustration.

"Renesmee, I know what I saw. It was him, I would bet my life on it"

"Would you bet Bella's?" was what I almost said but Edward's glare made me reconsider. Just this once.

"Dead people just don't walk around all over the place," I said instead.

"We do," Emmett chimed in.

"We're different!"

"So why not him?"

"Edward is right," Classic Carl Carlisle move. His Golden Child could never be wrong. "I might have heard of something like this happening before."

There was a brief moment of silence before everyone exploded.

"WHAT?!"

Carlisle sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"You have to understand, I couldn't verify it at the time."

When he said nothing, Esme made a "well, go on" motion.

"It happened about a decade ago. I only came upon this information because of Eleazar – he had approached me about it because he thought I was involved," Carlisle walked towards a window and stared into the distance like the dramatic bitch he was.

Edward slapped the back of my head.

"He told me heard of rumors of a vampire that had died 50 years ago and who walked the Earth again. You all know about my passion for Theology and my desire to find out what waits for us on the other side, so I promised to look into it. It took a while, but eventually, I heard back from someone"

"Your trip to Carencro," Esme gasped. "You said it was a conference!"

"When was this, I don't remember this?" Carl was holding back no punches in his dramatic reveal.

"It was our semester abroad," that's what Edward like to call the half a year experiment we spent in France. He wanted to see if Bella, him, and I could be a family unit all on our own.

It failed pretty miserably, would never happen again.

"I didn't want to burden you, love. Not unless I knew for sure."

Rosalie rolled her eyes. "So what happened?"

Carlisle turned back to us and shrugged.

"I met my informant and they told me to go to this one cafe and ask for Roy. I went there and the manager told me no one with that name worked there"

"So you got pranked," Emmet said.

"I looked around town for a couple of days, and since nothing else came up after my trip to Lousiana, I felt comfortable labeling the whole thing a hoax."

Rosalie scoffed. "And you think that's what's happening here?"

"I think it could be a possibility. This is our only lead"

I thought over what Carlisle just said. Could there really be an afterlife vampires could come back from? And if that was the case, then what happened to Roy? Was Roy even the vampire Elezear heard about?

But most importantly, why now?

"Hey, Alice. Besides James, what else did you see?"

Everyone went quiet and I looked back at them confused.

"I saw us without you"

"I mean, you don't really see me in your visions," I chuckled nervously.

"When I don't see you, it's like I'm looking around something. What I saw...it felt like I would never have to deal with that interference again."

"...Oh"

That didn't sound good.

#midnight shift #twilight fanfiction #twilight saga #my writing #renesmee cullen #the cullens #fanfiction #twilight renaissance

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ithinkthingsaboutstuff · 5 years

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how would you analyze the rebooting scene?

Thank you for the ask, (but i think you’ll be sorry, lol)

Ok here we go (i did this to myself)

I said before that this scene is a masterclass and I’m going to show you why I think that, but strap in its going to be long one.

the version of the scene I’m looking at is 3:46 secs (note this version a quick cut to J’onn but i will ignoring that, for the sake of time and my sanity)

the scene opens with this

Brainy is locked in a chair, but we are looking at his right hand of all things

Note: this is were he wears his ring (that has been taken from him) so this open shot is saying, Brainy is being held back and his ring (legion/ friends) can’t help him.

a few shorts later that is conformed for the audience.

Note: that the rings is what is in focus and not the man holding it and it too is locked up (on a chain)

so safe to say that the ring has always been a symbol for Brainy himself or his core beliefs (as a hero) he say’s as much in earlier ep’s (before the alien march i believe)

this is a good example of visual symbolism and its done in two shorts.

moving on.

the next few beats go like this, ‘don’t hurt her (nia)’ ‘or what’ he gets zapped

but then this dialogue

“Ever one else here got these crazy powers but you as far as i can tell are blue.”

“are blue” is met with this image.

he tilts his head and the Brainiac symbol is on full display, so dramatic irony, we (the audience) know there’s more and we are about to find out how much.

“The girl (Nia) on the other hand”

is meet with this

so this has done two this

1) he have moved way from thoughts of himself (getting away)

2) We are looking at his ‘human’ or organic face and eyes (not the brainiac lights)

Brainy’s face then moves from, ‘i need to leave’ and into ‘take me not her’ this done by Jesse closing is eyes for a second and opening then again

he next is a back and forth of you will not hurt her. but then he gets hit by the gun. this then leads to lights on his head flashing and then cuts away,

note that

1) His head is leaning back and is looking up

2) the sound (hissing) and lights flickering

so he is in a state we have never seen him before.

now this then cuts to Eve and J’onn so I’m going to skip that. this is how we renter the scene,

the sound is still happening, coupled with his discomfort (understatement), but we are looking in, like we are an unknown entity overbearing but distant

note that you can’t see face’s (expressions) from anyone most notable being Brainy

a shot like this distance us from the emotion of what is happening, that’s amplified with the next shot

we are literally creeping in, like we are the thing his is trying to keep out or away from him.

note: this could also be seen as brainy himself losing his emotional attachment to himself

but he can’t keep ‘us’ away as the very next shot is

a close up like this is always for emotion.

but he is sounding less human (voice being more robotic) or at least less himself (lights flickering) it is also a dutch tilt and those are used to show ‘something is not right here’ or ‘this is not as it seems’

and he is not talking about himself “why would anyone hurt her”

so his self attachment is all by gone, and he has all but given up on his own fight, as stated by his captor

“he’s done…on too the other one boys.”

it is then meet with a music drop and a matter a fact

“no”

this is when things, get layered

there are a few more mechanical shifts sounds

met with different types of ‘No’

this is also meet by some flickers of back and forth between himself, this shows an internal shift of keeping them here “no, no” (don’t leave) to “No,you can’t.” (stay back, something is inside me) this is done with tone of voice and micro expressions.

so this writing when viewed the first time makes us question who he is talking to now, because dialogue alone makes it sound like he is still talking to the guards

(and the not so micro ones)

this is when he falls back on or uses his last line of defiance his ‘Little Box’s’

this is the last big red flag for something is about to go down and its not going to be good.

“But eventually box’s get opened.”

but this makes the audience ask in Brad Pitt in the movie 7 fashion

‘What’s in the box!’

and for those paying attention Brainy answers that question before it starts

“there’s a story about that right…Greek.”

(I have already mentioned this part before in another ask but since i’m lazy and unoriginal, i’ll do it again)

this moment is a good example of conscious and subconscious intertextuality

the use of Little Box’s has 2 meanings in this scene.

1) the show made a coping technique out of it as a way to seal away unwanted pain

2) as to what is in this book is ref to Pandora’s Box

now what was in Pandora’s Box you ask

Oh! Out of the box flew every kind of trouble that people had never known about before: sicknesses, and worries, and crimes, and hate and envy and all sorts of bad things. The bad things all began to fly away like little bugs, all over the place.

Pandora was very sorry now that she had opened the box! She tried to catch the bad things and put them back in the box but it was too late. They all flew away.

https://quatr.us/greeks/pandoras-box-greek-mythology.htm

this double meaning is used as a way to tell us was is going to happen without actually tell us, and is good solid writing.

and going back to the angle of this shot looking up at someone usually shows them having power over someone in the scene,

but thanks to the acting here

it shows that he is powerless against himself.

this is the moment before he loses himself (momentarily) to the Brainiac’s

the camera tilts again (this time onscreen) while it and Brainy move in a snake like fashion.

“your just primitives.”

in a Voice that is clearly not Brainy’s (in a literal and metaphorical way)

“and I have worked so hard to….to get back here.”

the Voice in this line fades back down to his real voice (so he is still fighting)

the line is also solid writing as it takes on different meanings

1) the literal, ‘i have worked hard to come to the past’

2) the metaphorical ‘I am working hard to get control of my mind again.’

3) the emotional ‘I have worked hard to get to a good emotional sate.’

and again this angle show how he is powerless against himself.

the next few shots are the camera swaying back and forth and he goes a small disjointed rant about time travel (and space travel)

the camera swaying is showing the mood swings but it is also showing the state of his mind

‘it could go either way’

(and Jesse’s back and forth is seamless.)

then finally a calm before the storm moment as he ‘fully regains himself’

with “the point is, the point is..I’m from the future,”

then to a rational but angry

“my species has ancestral memory.”

the lights are still going so this has not pasted.

“and my ancestors very bad people.”

then cut to

“I remember everything!”

oh this shot

(Jesse’s acting top notch here (that single tear still gets me) )

1) the lead in from ‘bad people’ to ‘I remember’ so sharp and intense

2) this shows that he is actually seeing everything they have ever done (world killers)

3) this shot removes the Brainiac symbol from sight again, as this is Brainy’s agony and not there’s (they don’t feel anything lest of all regret)

and this shot is also how we know he has just lost against who he is fighting. and the fact that this is only time we see him in profile this could mean symbolically he has just been ‘split in half’.

then a few moments before

“uh oh”

this angle again but this time meet with a ‘glee’ then leading into a cry (the last cry) for help Brainy uses.

“I don’t want to.”

then the head goes down and silence’s, then

this time the Brainiac’s symbol is the main focus, the dutch tilt is back, so Brainy is gone,

then this leads to the rise and lifting up of Jesse’s body, like his is being filled with air

the he says how he has been aligned with with his family, and how he has been rebooted,

as this happens the camera sways back and forth but slowly this time, as to show that shows its gently moving into his mind and making itself more comfortable before, so the camera straights up and he states

“that was a calamitous mistake.”

then he breaks free and beats them brutally braking bones and smashing in heads (but not killing oddly enough)

but the first thing he does is

pull the ring to himself but unlike all the other times in s4 he does not grab it rather

he garbs this guy’s neck

so if Brainy ‘is the ring’ (symbolically speaking)

then he is still chained up, in these next fighting beats. (again bashing skulls and breaking bones)

then there is this moment

a taking in a new mind set (literally),

then the camera spins around him and cutting to his side to show him put out his hand and then this

remember Ring= brainy

high angle = power

so the rebooted brainy has power over the chained up one (symbolically)

then he pulls it off the chain (but dose not put it on, that we see anyway)

J’onn walks in and ask

“what happened”

his response

“i’m free.”

double meaning is double meaning (i don’t have to explain that one)

there are few other things i noticed in this scene

1) like how the fight scene had a deeper or inverted version of Brainy’s usual theme music.

2) there are 3 big lights on the wall hanging over the scene (like the brainiac’s)

3) most of this scene is close ups and that is not easy to do (acting wise)

4) he takes down the scientist last (thought that was worth pointing out)

so yes this scene is one of the best the show has ever made (for me anyway) its very layered and well planned and well executed,

now do i think every thing i listed here was intentional for the reasons i listed them, no (that’s insane)

but that doesn’t matter, the point is i was able to make and find these connections using the film language that was presented,

but this scene is filled with character building (brainy with Jesse’s acting ability’s), season long payoffs (little box’s) and setting up story’s and premise’s for what was going to be next season, that is now this season (s5.)

so no matter which way you look at it this scene is so well put together that it could be it’s own short film, and no one would have batted an eye.

that’s the mark of good story telling (in this case acting, writing and directing) if you can take out all context and still be its own peace of work.

and this is all just my take someone else could come in and see something totally different and that’s great.

[and just for fun I will throw in the scene and you can take a look and see how you feel for your self

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xPvPkDxhxoY]

#long post #meta #brainiac 5 #querl dox #brainy #supergirl #man #i do not like myself all that much to i #why am i like this #this is what i do for fun #wow #anyway this is a thing that happened #jesse's acting man #its so good #the angles in this scene were great #and the music was well done to #but i was to lazy to mention it

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yikes-and-a-hand-basket · 5 years

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Lance with BPD Headcanons

99% of the time Lance second guesses if he's over-reacting or reacting the perfect amount.

Hates being called "dramatic" because it reminds him that he usually over-reacts because of his heightened emotional output.

Is okay with being called "goofy", because he does try to play off his anxiety and depression symptoms as a joke, but it depends on the context.

Isolates himself anytime he hits a depressive episode or is having mood swings, which is reeeeally hard to do when you have a big fanily that pry.

Gets aggressively annoyed anytime anyone pries him, and will spend the rest of the day angry.

Eventually calms down, but only after he cries for an hour to Dancing Queen by ABBA, and apologizing profusely to anyone who might've had to deal with his angry/frustrated outbursts.

Hates that his anger gets the better of him, and desperately wishes he didn't have such explosive anger over the most insignificant things.

Hyperventilates whenever his anxiety spikes suddenly.

Has issues trusting people outside of his family, but also has a problem with forming bonds with people too quickly.

Is easily made jealous, and HATES this fact.

When he met Hunk at the Galaxy Garrison, he didn't think they would be friends, because Hunk was such a nervous guy, and something about his nervousness ate at Lance, and made him almost hate the guy. It wasn't until Hunk helped Lance through an episode of hyperventilating, and Hunk didn't make fun of him or tell anyone about it, that Lance decided he could trust Hunk, and also decided that if anything happened to Hunk, Lance would kill everyone in the Garrison, and then himself.

Lance immediately formed a crush on Allura, and recognized that it was the BPD that was making him feel intense love for the princess even though they had just met, and tried to be rational with himself and faaaaaailed.

Constantly bickered with Keith in the beginning, because that one thing Keith did when they were like 12 at the Galaxy Garrison, and LANCE HAS NOT FORGOTTEN AND WILL NOT FORGIVE!!!

Keith just gets of Lance's nerves, to the point where Lance invents reasons to hate him. Keith scrapes his metal spoon on his ceramic bowls. Keith's hair is stupid. Keith looked like he was glaring at him, and must hate him, therefore Lance has to hate him more.

Lance complains to Hunk for hours about Keith, and then talks ceaselessly about Allura.

Hunk points out that he thinks Allura might be Lance's favorite person, and Lance is awake all night, crying, because Hunk is right, and maintaining relationships with his favorite person NEVER works out for Lance.

When Hunk and Pidge start getting closer, Hunk starts spending less time with Lance, and rather than ask Hunk to spend some time with him, Lance looks on from afar, yearning for Hunk to remember he exists, and to spend a little time with him too. Lance flip-flops between being insanely jealous of Pidge and being sad that Hunk is having fun with Pidge, and Lance isn't "invited".

Lance's homesickness becomes a big reason why he has depressive episodes out in space, and is why he steals Pidge's headphones so he can sleep. He can't sleep in a quiet room. The sound of quiet is too deafening, and it'll reach a point where he becomes so overstimulated by the weight of the silence that he has to get out of bed, and run the energy off, or wait it out until he literally passes out from exhaustion.

When Shiro is lost in season 2, Lance wants to be distraught, but he doesn't have time, because Keith is more distraught, and Lance isn't going to be selfish. He focuses all of his energy into helping Keith become the leader Shiro apparently wanted, and swallowing his feelings for once. Until the middle of the night when Lance can't sleep and desperately wants to go home, because he isn't having fun out in space anymore, and the weight of the war has finally settled on his shoulders.

Once Keith starts being friendly to him, Lance can't shut the fuck up about Keith, and about how he's "made quite the turn around", and is actively happy to see him.

When Shiro returns to the team, Lance feels so. fucking. guilty. because Lance's first thought was, "I don't have aplace on the team anymore..." instead of being happy that they found Shiro! His fucking role model! The crushing guilt leads to a spiral where Lance isolates himself as his mind races through all the reasons he's the weakest link in Voltron's chain, and how he has no place, and is a worthless waist of space that should just eject himself into the nearest sun, because he shouldn't even be breathing their air with his worthless lungs and how he'll never amount to anything because he's horrible at everything and-He's sobbing so hard he can't breathe.

Once he calms down, he goes to Keith, seeking out his comfort, but mostly wanting to get ahead of the "Let's Get Rid of Lance" decision. If it's his choice, it won't hurt as much, he thinks.

When Keith ends up leaving to join the Blade of Mamora, Lance is glad for a moment. Annoying Keith is finally leaving! Except...Everyone here has their little...Routines. And Lance wasn't a part of any of them. In fact, in a moment of clarity, Lance realized he had somehow grown really attached to Keith. Maybe even...Even to "best friend" status. And now-...Now he was leaving. And Lance would be all alone.

Lance doesn't take Keith's absence well. He isolates himself, and internalizes Keith's leaving as abandonment and betrayal. He finds reasons to hate Keith again, and settles on the fact that Keith seemed to run away to the Blade the moment he found out he was connected to them, as if he wasn't connected to the team. To Lance.

Lance feels extremely guilty for thinking such horribly harsh things about Keith and has to remind himself that none of what he's thinking is true, in reality. But it's how he feels, and he's sickened by that, and how his mind makes everyone into an enemy at the drop of a hat.

Idk maybe I'm projecting too much onto my boy, but...Yeah. That's what I got so far.

#vld lance #voltron #voltron legendary defender #lance mcclain #bpd!lance #lance with bpd

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broodyjoey · 5 years

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wow MaDD is taking over my bloody life now

my escapist tendencies are not making this easy for me...

My school results are out now and it seems like I have little to no chance of entering any of the further educational institutes at all...

I feel like my life is about to end...

and all of this is all of my fault.

I had so many chances but I decided to flunk them all.Always daydreaming and depressed that my life is never going to be as glamorous as parame’s life.

I dunno if I’m being overly dramatic again or something but I just

I just feel like there must have been a way to not be like this.

To not be a failure like this.

I’m not from a very rich family,I won’t be able to afford education overseas,unless I work and save up.

But I don’t even know what kinda job would want someone like me? Someone who’s always late,a slow learner and not very socialble nor very informed about ‘common knowledge’/pop topics.

I’m a hermit.I’ve unknowingly,throughout these 3 years have turned into a hermit crab,a frog in the well and...I dunno if I still wanna get out.

I’m always so easily defeated,depressed all the time.My happiness usually comes in the form of sitting in front of a screen and watching my favourite celeb’s interactions or daydreaming.That’s it.

All the time I could have been putting in to build myself a foundation for another more useful and reliable hobby,I’ve spent it all on the “what ifs”.

I think I’ve already given up on myself.

I literally see no point in trying.Why am I like this?

I honestly feel like I have no energy left to pick myself up.

I’m not happy.I’m not sad.I’m just floaty and empty.

It feels like someone shot me with an anesthetic and now I’m always drowsy,confused and half-conscious.

My feelings feel like a weird cocktail of messiness and everything means absolutely nothing to me.

Nothing is useful,nothing is meaningful.

Maybe the anesthetic is too strong lmao

These days,I can have a very bad mood and suddenly feel better...my mood swings are so violent,I can end up figuratively falling face flat on the floor.

Sometimes writing can help me regulate them, sometimes it doesn’t...

Everything just looks messy in and out.

I just really hope I get another chance in my academics.

If I don’t,then I guess I have to get my ass whooped and kicked by life to learn it the extremely hard way.

But because everything seems like nothing,I feel like if I was battered into pieces,I would feel it in the moment and then forget about it again.

Just like how I’m starting to forget that:

No, when a person plays mind games,it won’t be as exhilarating as watching a melodrama

It’ll be torturous and I’ll end up feeling terrible.

When a person makes unwanted advances,despite you saying no,it doesn’t mean they like you wildly

It just means that they don’t respect your decisions as a person and you should get the fuck outta there ASAP

Someone who is overly clingy can shut their clinginess down when I’m not feeling up for it

NO, it means I’ve got a attachment issue for wanting someone overly clingy and I should fix it and also stay away from overly clingy people as well.

“I fucked up and cannot repair anything,I’m a failure” thinking is flawed and will bring me no where,maybe even make me worse

Lmao I truly am a failure for saying and believing in such things,I’m still trying not to believe it,but when my mood goes sour,I really do believe it.

But then on other days,I totally discard the notion of this ever existing and pretend that I’m perfect.A very vicious cycle,halp

I say I’m trying to repair things that I fucked up,but honestly...

I don’t think I’m even putting as much effort as my words speak of.

I’m just spitting words so that people think I actually try.

And people just pretend I tried because they are so tired of my bullshit.

At this point,the one I’m lying to is myself.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m delusional.

But that’s the thing,I can’t be sure of my judgments.

I need to see a doc;every time this topic of whether my base of reality is accurate comes up,I tend to go a little insane with all the over analyzing and shit.

Yet I always don’t have a definite answer.

I feel like I’m running in circles.

I need therapy.

#personal rant #madd #avoidant #escapist

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vee-la · 5 years

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I am exhausted, utterly and completely exhausted. I think I’m finally admitting to myself that I am not okay, and while emotions, like tides, have ebbs and flows, the wave of sadness and of emptiness come ever so often, like clockwork, it comes every week, every three days, the sick feeling at the pit of my stomach, the overwhelming desire to escape. I keep it away by going out; eating out, social interaction, yoga, exercise, keeping busy, watching mindless shows, prayer, denying it, but it always feels like I’m toeing a line, precariously balancing on a thin piece of rope, with the feeling of unease creeping behind me so very closely, like I’m a character in a bad horror movie, the looming threat of coming undone just a couple steps behind. I find myself breaking down every week, and it’s not something I want either; it frustrates me, it makes me feel weak. annoying. Cringe-worthy. pathetic. But yet it comes. Even in the happiest of moments it comes. I find myself crying two or three times while on holiday. I blame it on random circumstances, and when asked, I say I don’t know, or make something up, but the truth is that I truly don’t know.

Some days I don’t feel as bad, some days I feel like I am being dramatic; people have it far worse than me, and in a way, well, in many ways, they do. I am, objectively, an extremely privileged girl. I was born to a “good” family, upper-middle class, I’ve lived in relative luxury all my life, I haven’t gone through any pain. I’ve lived a charmed life, by all definitions. Rationally, I should not be feeling like this - I had a good, normal childhood. Yes, my parents were very often away, but I was always loved. I’ve never really been bullied, I’m objectively pretty, and have always been told so. My weight, while something I’ve always struggled with, has never been anything but socially acceptable. I speak relatively well, am of relative intelligence, had not gone through any real trauma. By all accounts, I’m extremely blessed. I should not be feeling like this, so feeling the way I do makes me feel guilty, because I have no reason to.

There are times I wonder, could it really be my parents? Perhaps some of the anxieties that come with my appearance, with my fear of being disliked, of authority, my lack of assertion, could have come from my mother. Perhaps my desperate longing for male attention, constant, needy, clingy, reassurance, perhaps that could have stemmed from a lack of affection from my father. But I know they love me, it seems almost worst to blame them for things, to take for granted my perfect idyllic family that loves me. The problem is not them, it’s me. It’s all me.

I romanticise everything in my life with a sort of pathological obsession, My life, in my eyes, in reflection, take on an pseudo-Plathian tinge, a New York Times modern love story. Even the way I’m (very badly) writing this now. Despite having zero audience, I still perform. Everything to me is a narrative. Every boy I date, a prince, a grand love story where I am the so-very-special protagonist. The narcissist I am. Every boy I date has qualities I deem storybook-worthy. A list of traits that make them worthy of my pedestal. In my world, they are the perfect ones that got away, ones that just cannot understand me, everything is deeper than it needs to be. I hopelessly cling onto romantic endeavours to find a sense of self, a sense of worth. My life revolves wholly around my romantic relationships, or lack-thereof. I torture myself endlessly, literally obsessively. Every man is THE ONE. The only important thing in my life. The centre, the saving grace. The more doomed, the better. Trophy boyfriends I convince myself I love. And I do love, at least, I believe I do. More often than not, they are merely figments of my imagination. I take the base traits that make me choose them and run with it, creating a fictional character in my head I then devote myself entirely to. I change my entire identity, my entire purpose, to fit this narrative. I do this often, I do this pathologically. Do I want to be this person? Of course not, I fancy myself a feminist, a not-weak bitch. The one who is desired by many, rather than the pathetic, clingy, sad, anxious loser. But yet. I am aware of my anxious attachment style (have I yet mentioned my neurotic need to read up on every single situation and self-diagnose, actively ponder and mull over, drive myself crazy overthinking yet?) This anxiety runs through every aspect of my life. To be completely honest, I’m not sure if I actually am sad and empty, or if this just defines me. A literal, mere text makes or breaks my entire day, my entire sense of self, my entire mental health. Nothing else in the world matters except this relationship. I don’t know, actually, maybe I am not actually empty, maybe I am just sad due to different men, and my refusal to accept that I am really, that, insane and weak, is leading me to blame other factors for my vast mood swings. Very possibly so.

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bujoloveme · 6 years

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Coroners Inquests in Somerset from old newspaper archives

Weston-super-Mare Pier Suicide, August 1881

The wife of Mr. Richard Nash of Oakhouse Martley, Worcester, committed suicide by jumping off the pier in Weston-Super-Mare. She went for a walk with a friend and while her friend was paying for the pier, Mrs. Nash came to the railings and climbed into the water. The body was recovered later that day.

Suicide Pact of Huntspill near Highbridge, August 1868

Elizabeth Cridge, nearly sixteen years old, and Jane Meaker, nineteen, both stayed out one night. Their beds had not fallen asleep and they were nowhere to be seen, so a party was looking for them, but to no avail. Eventually her bodies were discovered in a cattle herd on the grounds of her employer. Rather romantic, they were held in the arms of each other, both were obviously cold. There are rumors of this immoral attitude, and these had reached the Vicar, Reverend Arundell. Vicar told her boss, Mr. Hawkins, and he quickly talked to them about the gossip. Hawkins told them that if the rumors were true, they would not have ears on Monday. On Sunday night they made a kind of suicide pact and both dipped into the small, but rather deep pond. The question remained, were they healthy when they did it? The verdict was "Felo de Se". The girls were buried within the day between nine and twelve o'clock at night and did not perform any Christian rites, as was usual for suicides. Huntspill is in a gloomy mood at the moment.

Hallatrow Church Suicide, Somerset July 1861

Hallatrow has no church, but High Littleton, so it could be. Miss Collins, the Virgin of the Church, sent two young girls to clean her up before the Sunday service. They went about their business, and meanwhile their fifteen-year-old brother sneaked in and went to the bell tower. After ten or fifteen minutes, a sister found him swinging on a rope. The rope used was also used to ring the bells. He had been so determined that, while the rope was much too long, he threw his legs away from him, otherwise his feet would have touched the ground and he would get into a kind of kneeling position.

Bath, October 1836

Uriah Hales, a worker, fell into a lime kiln on Lower Bristol Road in Bath. He was released from the oven, but his two legs had literally burned down.

Frome Suicide, September 1843

A tragic event took place about a mile from Frome, Somerset. Thomas Moon went with a relative to Vallis Vale, as he then stood on the rocks and dropped. The height of the rock was about one hundred and fifty feet and not surprisingly it was killed as soon as it hit the ground.

Twerton, Bath June 1860 (fatal accident)

In Twerton, there was a terrible accident in which a little girl died. The name of the children is Grissel and their parents live on the side street of the Royal Oak Inn. The children were playing near the road one day as they walked beside a car with a load of wood in it. One of the pieces of wood weighed a few tons more, and for some inexplicable reason, she managed to fall under the wheel, right above her head. The girl died instantly and her brain stuck out of the head of her lifeless body. Her brother had tried to save her, and his foot was squeezed under the wheel.

Weston-Super-Mare, October 1885

Mrs. Emily Kirkbride had employed Emily Mary Nicholas as a domestic worker at Woodhill on Manor Road in Ashcombe. She had been there for over four years, but Mrs. Kirkbride guessed she was pregnant. She had a word with her and told her that she was right in her assumption. Kirkbride then told her mother to go home. Nicholas was disappointed with the news, but was told that she could stay another day. Mrs. Kirkbride left her alone the next day around three o'clock and when she returned at seven o'clock, she saw that the house was locked and not lit. Kirkbride thought she'd been picked up at the train station to stay out for half an hour, but then she heard a moan. The mistress got help immediately and the door was opened. A message has been sent to get her mother or father, and at a good time. As soon as they opened the door to her bedroom, her father appeared to console her. Nicholas had taken some poison and the doctor was able to rescue her, and a few days later she went home. The day after she went home, she gave birth to a child, but she was born dead, and a few hours later Emily Nicholas died. She left a sad letter saying, "I hope the Almighty will forgive me for what I will do and bring me home so I can be with Him. I do not want to live so as not to be a problem for anyone. Goodbye, my dear mother and father, brothers and sister and my dear mistress. I hope to see you again someday. Friends, you all know about it; it will drive me crazy. I hope that the bad misery has to suffer and bear all costs. So goodbye. "Nobody knew who this mysterious person she's written about.

Dowlish Wake February 1881 (Vicars Suicide)

The vicar of Dowlish Wake, Rev. Benjamin Speke, killed himself by drowning. His wife had died the day before, and a few years ago the clergyman was missing. His clothes were found in London, several weeks later he turned up in Cornwall and managed to get a job as a rancher. He was eccentric, to say the least!

Hampton Rocks Skeleton, Bath September 1893

Two boys have made a terrible discovery while exploring a cave. While they were in the Hampton Rocks Cave in Bath, they came upon the remains of a 20/30 year old woman, covered with flat stones and badly decomposed. It was limited to being a skeleton, and had been there for a long time and could only be designated as a woman due to the clothes and hair rest. The boys came in contact with the police, but eventually the County Police took over the investigation.

Nailsea Dynamite Suicide, October 1893

John Roberts was a miner and he lived with his wife in Nailsea and, to say the least, had a stony relationship and was brought to court for their attack. As a miner, he sneaked some sticks of dynamite from his workplace, put a stick in the trash, and lit it while his wife was there, waiting for the thirty-second fuse to end. He went into the yard, then heard a loud explosion (and the people who lived a mile away said they heard it) and his head was blown to atoms.

Keynsham, March 1857 (fatal accident)

A fatal accident occurred at the Hillsbridge Iron Works near Keynsham. A man with the rather Dickensian name, Holiday Bush, who worked as a roller operator at the factory, picked up a wrench when a piece of his clothes got stuck in the machine. Then he dragged him headfirst against the drums and he killed immediately.

Portbury Suicide, May 1830

A young boy, only sixteen years old, drowned in Portbury because his lover had rejected him for inappropriate behavior while her husband was away. The guy tied a huge stone around his neck with his braces and plunged into the water. Because he was believed to have committed suicide, his body was buried at midnight and without religious rites.

River Avon near Bath, March 1904

An investigation was made of the body of a gentleman employee named C.F.Davis of Clevedon, whose body was fished out of the Avon. He left a farewell letter and his hat on the bench, as well as a second note to the coroner: "I have fully realized this act of the terrible eternity that awaits me in the episode, but it is only the fitting end to a life of misery. God help my soul. Tuesday, February 23; 9 am to 3 pm. Moved to six o'clock tomorrow.

The following letter to a friend reads: – "I hereby send you a pair of golden links, the last possession with which I must part. Try to ponder all the friends in Clevedon, kindly, and forgive the hasty deed I'm going to make tonight … Tell everyone who's interested in finding my body as soon as possible. I'm afraid of rats and eels. The only step I still have to take; what else can I do? I've done my best since leaving Clevedon to fight it. The more I think, the worse I am and the more urgent it is for me to clarify as quickly as possible. God forbids that it was always my intention to "make" anyone, but circumstances change the cases. My life was a cursed life. "

His uncle killed himself twenty years ago, and his mother died in an asylum for about a month, and a warrant for his arrest has been issued. Judgment "Suicide while temporarily insane".

Puxton Station near Weston-Super-Mare, September 1904

The express train had just driven through the Puxton Station near Weston-Super-Mare when a layer of slabs noticed something on the tracks. On closer inspection, it turned out to be the decapitated body of a young woman. The remains were identified as those of Katherine Woodford at the age of 24, the daughter of Locking's rector. She had driven around the area and the bicycle was discovered in a field some distance away.

Weston Super Mare Suicide, August 1884

A member of the Volunteer Engineer Corps, a man named Twitt, blew himself out in his bedroom in Weston-Super-Mare. His sick wife was in bed at the time, and his wife was very desperate for his suicide and she is not expected to recover from the shock.

Suicide of Grosvenor Suspension Bridge, Bath, February 1918

An airplane worker, Mabel Holland, 16, jumped from the Grosvenor Suspension Bridge in Bath. She was suspected of dishonesty, but this was unjustified and the girl from Bath decided to end everything. She left a message why she had done it.

"I've almost lost my thoughts with their taunts. The girls who work with me have driven me to it. "

Weston near Bath, July 1900

A mob of 200 to 300 people in the village of Weston near Bath attacked a poor woman. Her husband had died, and shortly afterwards she was convicted of a crime. The unruly crowd seized them, lit them, and pulled them through the streets, which were attached to a rope. Reverend Hayas Robinson, the pastor of the parish, intervened as they "crouched", cutting the rope and freeing the woman. One man was imprisoned for three months and two others were each a few weeks in the clink. Some others were fined £ 2 each.

Glastonbury Church Suicide, February 1840

The suicide of a Mr. Bullhead took place in Glastonbury. He was heavily in debt and owed £ 1700 to a local firm, and it was assumed that he had invested in the Glastonbury Canal, which apparently also lost money. The solution was simple. Mr. Bullhead borrowed the keys to the church tower and told the sexton he wanted to survey the surrounding countryside to see if it had been flooded in the recent violent rainstorms. He made it to the top of the tower and then dropped off.

Lansdown Grove Hotel Suicide, Bath, September 1889

A body of a man was discovered near the Lansdown Grove Hotel in Bath. He was found under an elm and was identified as the inmate of Bailbrook Asylum. His name was Julian Fowler, the son of the vicar of Walton near Clevedon. He had shot himself in the head with the weapon at his side. A few days earlier, Fowler's father allowed his son to take him home. This he did over a little break in Wales. The father sent a postcard to the responsible asylum officer, Dr. Ing. Wetherley, and said that they would come back that day. Fowler and his father arrived from Chepstow, Bath, and he had to travel three miles back to Bailbrook alone. This was the occasion he needed and then committed suicide near the hotel.

Gurney Slade Fatal Explosion, January 1832

Mr. George Gait, a grocer in the village of Gurney Slade, went to his wife. The rest of the family, a total of eight, went to the chapel, with one of the daughters making a fire and throwing the contents of a box into the fire. She thought it was the coal box, but it contained several pounds of gunpowder and the house was torn to pieces. Two of the children were completely killed and three are in critical condition.

Badmord / Suicide, February 1850

Edmund Hunt killed his own life and that of his toddler in Bath. The child's wife and mother were an ordinary shoplifter, and when he came home one night and found out she had been arrested again, he took the child and went down to the River Avon and plunged into the water. He was deeply attached to the child and only thirty-seven years old.

Banwell Drowning, Weston-Super-Mare, January 1884

In Banwell, a few young men named Phillips and Richards had a street brawl. Phillips was dragged away by his friends, and Richards was led by the crowd to a mill pond where he was pushed. In the middle of the pond was a tiny island he stayed on until he said they had a boat. Instead, he took a bath for it, got caught in weeds, and immediately drowned.

Taunton Suicide, October 1868

About seven miles from Taunton in Blackdown Hills, a corpse of a man was found, with his neck slashed. In a ditch, about a mile from the Holman Clavell Inn in Pitminster, the ruined remains were found and nearby were a razor and a knife, both of which were covered in blood. The man's name was Henry Mitchell of Crediton and was a former member of the 16th Rifles, and it was estimated that it had been there for at least a week.

Southstoke Brewery Fatality, Bath, March 1887

Thirty-six-year-old Charles Witchell (# 2), Crossway Cottages, Combe Down, lived with his brother and sister and was missing from his home. He had worked for Southstoke Brewery in Bath for twenty years. Questions were asked about his whereabouts and it was found that he had not worked in the brewery, they thought he had gotten sick and stayed home. As the hours turned into days, the family became worried and wanted. His body was in an empty container in the brewery. He was accidentally found when a worker went to the roof of the building, and he spotted Witchell's hat next to the tub. The vat was empty but contained enough gas to kill a man. It can not be determined whether it is a tragic accident or suicide.

Suicide in Taunton County Gaol, February 1850

County Gaol in Taunton saw the suicide of a juvenile prisoner. 16-year-old W.Hounsell was imprisoned for fleeing the Chard Union. He was obviously so disturbed by his stay with Her Majesty that he threw himself under the wheel of a treadmill on which eighteen men worked. They tried to stop in time, but the guy was badly disheveled and when they got him out, he was already dead.

Monkton Combe Mill Suicide, September 1864

Thomas Watts, a miller, left his house and went to the mill in Monkton Combe. During the morning, someone wanted to talk to him about business matters, but they could not find him and looked around. He was found in the mill, which hung on a beam. In the roof area where it was found, the soil sinks seven feet deep so that the grain can run into the mill. He stood on the edge of the bath and tied a rope around a beam, put it around his neck and jumped off.

Bad self-immolation, August 1863

The wife of William Wallace, a farmer living in Worle, committed suicide in a frightening manner. One morning, Mr. Wallace left the farm to look over fields and cattle, leaving the wife and two children at home. Shortly after leaving, she dressed in a robe, went downstairs, turned on a light, and lit up. As she got out, she went into the garden and died of the terrible burns she suffered. She was called a "weak intellect" and had some weird delusions because her husband moved to a bigger and better farm. Friends told how she used to say that she did not want to leave the farm, and they had to carry her in a coffin.

Fear and Cowardly Saw, Bath, May 1834 (tragic accident)

27-year-old Henry Abrahams oversaw the circular saws of Messrs. Fear and Coward in Bath. When he came into contact with him, he turned to 3600 feet per minute. He first took off one arm, parted the side, tore open the guts, and released them. He was taken to United Hospital but it was hopeless and he died the next day.

Clevedon, July 1899 (woman found on rock)

William Hancock, a boatswain, rowed his boat near Salthouse Mill when he spotted the corpse on the rocks. He went to Clevedon and said Sergeant Fairchild. They found her again, and the only clue to her identity was the "H.W." she wore on her clothes. She was about thirty, blue coat and skirt, blue cap, black silk waistband and children's boots. It seems that the woman had fallen from a nearby, about thirty-meter high cliff on the rocks and was beaten by the waves and rocks around him.

Bad brothel suicide, June 1860

Thomas Bull, a farmer from Basingstoke, who had hung himself up at Monmouth Street 8 in Bath and was known as a loo. He went to Bath to attend the races in Lansdown. Then he met a prostitute named Jeffries. He went to the above address and stayed there for a few days. The brothel's wife told him to go home because he was depressed. He said he would and decided on a kip before he went back and he asked her to wake him up at three o'clock. The door was tightly closed when she wanted to start it up, so she fetched a copper cellar that helped open the door, along with a carpenter. They found Bull hanging on a string at the bedpost. The body was freezing cold and his hands were black, which means he was long dead. He had only one shirt on and no money or papers to prove who he was.

Frome, August 1847

A fatal accident occurred near Frome, who, it seems, was seen in a woman's dream. The wife of a man named Gibbs, who was a carter, dreamed that a car had run over her husband while he was at work killing him. She was absolutely convinced of that, but he gave it away. He had to go to Bath one day and the wife asked him to take her daughter with him. Everything went well until they returned at seven in the evening and came to Ammerdown. The horses got angry and Gibbs tried to jump and stop them. Suddenly the dream came true in all aspects. He was run over by them and lived for several hours, but during the accident, the daughter tried to help and was run over and even killed.

Somerset County Gaol, Taunton, January 1857 (tragic accident)

George Kingdon was a prisoner in County Gaol in Taunton. He was with six others in the drainage work and above them were some men on scaffolding. An iron bar fell down and tried to jump out of the way, instead she landed on his head. He breathed unconsciously and only lasted a few minutes before he died. An autopsy revealed that bone fragments had entered his brain from the skull. The bar had fallen nearly fifty yards, and if he had stayed where he was, the bar would have missed him.

Saltford Drowning, Somerset. September 1906

When Douglas Snell Chamberlain swam at Saltford's Avon on Saturday at the age of nineteen, he suddenly sank and dragged another swimmer, his cousin, Heal. Several people went to their aid and Heal was saved in an exhausted state, but Chamberlain was drowned.

Badmord / Suicide September 6, 1870

Mr. H.C. Hopkins writes in the British Medical Journal about the sad case of Miss Prankard, now in Bath United Hospital, and says she was wounded by two bullets, one of which kicked in front of her ear on either side. Both are now housed in the bones of the upper part of the mouth or in the nostril. To date, it has developed positively, but so far has not tried to remove the balls.

September 19, 1870 – Miss Kate Prankard, one of the victims of the late murderous assault, in which her sister was killed by her father and shot herself in the head, has recovered sufficiently to leave the hospital and live with her Friends It will be remembered that two bullets were placed in her head, above the palate, behind her nose, but the surgeon decided that no surgery was necessary in the hope that they would work out. They were right, because on Wednesday a bullet broke from where it had been embedded and fell into the young lady's mouth.

October 1, 1903 (The request)

The investigation of those killed in a recent Worle accident by a railway engine colliding on a train crossing was completed yesterday afternoon. The evidence showed that just before the accident, Smart, the driver of the car, said he could cross the intersection before the train passed by, and later said he would probably be spending twelve months with him. The jury has delivered a judgment against "Smarty" against Smart and argued that the crossing was not protected by a 70-year signal. Smart was sentenced to legal action, but was granted substantial guarantees for release. (Martha Biddiscombe and Isabel Hannon, both from Ferndale, were killed in the collision in Worle.)

from WordPress http://bujolove.enfenomen.com/2019/02/25/coroners-inquests-in-somerset-from-old-newspaper-archives/

#bullet journal

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