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merionettes · 1 month

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part 1 of how rubicon got written is here. this is part 2, aka the essay about etc.

the thing about the storyboarding/drafting process that there is no way to describe is how totally obsessed i was for the duration. afterwards i tweeted something like, this is the closest i've ever experienced to demonic possession. i would get up, write all day—like, all day—and go to bed. turn off the lights. then i would just lie wide awake in the dark with lines and scenes and dialogue scrolling through my head until i gave in and opened my notes app. i could not turn it off even if i wanted to. and i didn't want to, i was riding that streak as far as it would take me. because i couldn't look down, right? i could sense what i was attempting to do and anything other than total tunnel vision full speed ahead eyes on the prize would mean i had to acknowledge it.

(context of what made this possible: i was unemployed at the time.)

for the first ~50k or so i was afraid that at any minute i could falter. when i got to the nationals meltdown, that was when i knew i could do it. like, no matter what happened after that, i had the willpower and the chops and i knew where i was going. even if the streak died.

but it didn't. i wrote 100k in a little under 4 weeks. i've never experienced anything like that in my creative life.

—then obviously i had to get a new job and come back down to earth and it took 21 months to get from there to posting the epilogue. still. i will probably be chasing that high for the rest of my life. that was the part that like… made the rest of it possible. no matter how difficult or frustrating it was. that generated the roadmap.

i've talked about this before in comments but i had insanely strong opinions about what was "right" and what wasn't. sylvain's narrative voice was a huge part of that. it's inextricable from the content; it shaped the story; it is the story. for the first couple months it also made me an unhinged stylistic tyrant. if there was one single unnecessary word that struck me as inorganic, as existing solely to make the sentence more digestible or to convey information beyond the fourth wall, it had to go. i could not rest until it did.

once again: this is not generally the relationship i have with writing. lol. it's the demonic possession talking. this is why you have a ton of sentence fragments and stylistic tics and a refusal to let one single shred of information into the text that did not strike me as something sylvain would plausibly think or acknowledge he was thinking. and like, yeah. probably it didn't always make for the smoothest reading experience or the most satisfying narrative development. i'm dead certain there are people who picked this fic up and the bumps drove them out of their mind until they threw in the towel. i just didn't care.

part of that was a reaction to my own old style—you know, the discomfort of shedding old skin. i'd look at those early scene attempts and see all the habits and crutches i'd been trying to move away from over the last two years and double down on The Voice. but part of it… i would get early feedback that wasn't at all wrong, like "what if [clarifying narration]," "what if [more interaction]," and i'd just think, but that's not true. in exactly those words! which is crazy.

(this is why it was fortunate this was fanfiction i was writing for free, i didn't have to compromise my bonkers experience any more than i wanted to.)

to be clear this feeling didn't last two years. i was eventually able to edit like a normal person. it did last probably longer than ideal. and the point when i was no longer running on unleaded creative adrenaline was when i started to really struggle with the middle of the story. i had to make choices as a writer, instead of relying on the purity of my divine vision or whatever, and i second-guessed myself a lot. it was much easier to feel that absolute bone-deep certainty of Right and Wrong, True and False. and the thought of fucking up when i'd gotten so far was unbearable—like, being so close to making the thing in my head reality and then dropping the ball and breaking the suspension of disbelief.

distance also made it possible to perceive what i was doing and be like, jesus mer what the fuck are you doing. why are you devoting so much of your time to a hobby, why are you investing so much of your life in something you will never be able to truly share, why are you living in a hole with no one else in it. why are you putting yourself through the wringer to get it down "right." why does it matter if it's as good as it can be. why do you care. why is this worth it.

i assume this was pretty obvious before this post, but if not it must be now. this story isn't really about figure skating. for me it's about writing; who knows what it's about for you. i didn't sit down and think, great, felix will be a metaphor. that's just how it happens.

the experience of writing a novel for the first time: i'm saying this with my whole chest because at one point i wouldn't have, aloud. but what's the point in calling it anything else? i know exactly how much i invested in this. i'm the only one who can know. that's sort of the point.

here's a giant collage of the inside of my head. i made it for myself and i take it very seriously. not exactly groundbreaking to say this is the ultimate exercise in solipsism. when you're doing that—what greater gift is there than to have someone else meet you in exactly the same place. any writer would kill for the kind of responses this story has gotten, and i don't mean praise. i mean the close reads, the free response essays, the total and complete validation that this thing inside your head that only you can see is real, actually. when i say thank you, it's not for liking it or praising it—it's for taking it seriously. i loved this thing. i still love this thing. thank you for taking it seriously.

#rubicon #writing

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crispy-ghee · 6 months

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Is this work of Bird and Johnson ever going to be collected into a GN? (If so I'd buy the hell out of it.)

That's super kind of you, and I'm glad for the interest! But almost definitely not, unfortunately. It feels a little wrong to make and sell something of Magic and Larry without their approval (and yeah I know that lots of people do it in other little ways, but a GN seems a little different than like...a tshirt run, idk). Also the idea of them possibly even perceiving me is horrifying for some reason. Makes me existential. Not that either would give a shit (esp not Larry of all people) but still.

Besides, the comic gets a little less sequential and complete after a little bit. I'm focusing in a little harder during the WIT days bc no one ever talks about that, but even then, it'll feel like I'm skipping over pages not too much further in, like someone took their favorite sports manga and only scanned in the parts that they liked. So, for example, you'll see moments from games, but not the entire things.

Bc that's kind of the concept of the project, it's a "fake" sports comic about two heated rivals, and I'm showing the bits I want to show (mostly character moments) and omiting the bits I don't want to. Just like someone posting about their favorite comic on Tumblr and only showing the bits they really care about.

You really start to see it during their NCAA match up, and then once it hits their NBA days, I'm in full "pick and choose" mode. I'm not drawing out the whole 1984 final. I'll spend more pages of Magic and Larry ruminating on feelings like "I hate when people compare me to this guy, but I also can't stop myself from comparing myself to him, I need him there, like a crutch," than I will on them actually battling it out from play to play. You'll get more about the making of their converse commercial in 1985 than you will the championship that happened that same year haha

So it wouldn't really work as a graphic novel anyway. This is a free time passion project that I'm doing between the full time concept art work I do, a super indulgent thing I'm doing as I go through some rough times, so I'm okay with it just being something I put online that makes me (and maybe a few other people) happy.

But again, really appreciate the interest! I love the story of Bird and Magic's rivalry and friendship dearly. I just want more people to learn and love it too.

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leahseclipse · 2 years

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If I only could I'd make a deal with God, and I'd get him to swap our places | E.M

Pairing : Eddie Munson x gen ! reader

Warning : ST4 VOL2 SPOILERS, possible mentions of graphic details, coma, BUT it ends well, it's a fix-it fic !!

Summary : After the recent traumatic events, Eddie has ended up in the hospital and fell into a come. Reader visits everyday, in hopes he'll wake up.

A/N : yes I needed to do that after what happened 🥲 this is my apology for the other fic LMAO @smalluniversecollector

W/C: 1.3k

It marks one month since Eddie hasn't opened his eyes, today. One whole month without him.

Without the sound of his voice.

Without moving his arms in all directions like a sugar - high toddler.

Without the sound of his guitar playing.

He's just been there, laying in this bed, doing nothing else. I just wish he was awake.

Without the smell of whatever thing he'd smoke.

A month without all of those things. I have to admit, it feels empty, not having those in my life. It's like the world doesn't make sense now that it doesn't have him to fill it.

He's just been there, laying still, doing nothing. We probably couldn't have gone out of the upside down without injuries, so I just wished he had something that wouldn't keep him so long at the hospital at least.

I wish Eddie wouldn't be the one going through this. I've been feeling so guilty with my sprained wrist, it's nothing compared to what he has, and I wish we could've swapped places. I love him so much that I would do that for him.

But again , he'd be the one worried to death , just like I am right now. The one that wouldn't be in a coma would still suffer in some way.

I just wish we would just have something that wasn't bad at least. I wish he'd be there with me, and that we'd just have to laugh about a stupid sprained wrist and something else kind of broken, but not fatal for him. He'd play non-stop with his crutches if he had to have those.

We'd switch between his house, my house, Dustin's, we wouldn't stop moving around.

If only that was the only thing that happened. I wouldn't be here, sitting all day, hoping he wakes up.

"You know, I actually knew you before." Eddie said.

"You did?" I asked, surprised.

"In elementary school. You probably don't remember, because we weren't even in the same class. We never talked. I was... Much quieter before, the quiet type that wouldn't have the courage to tell he liked someone. I always watched you, from time to time. I still liked you, even with your bad haircut."

"That one was horrendous! How did you still like me?"

"I guess I just really loved you. And I will always love you, even if you get a messed up haircut."

If only Eddie saw what I did to my hair. I couldn't stay with this upside-down-monster-blood on my hair, even if I'd wash it, and it reminded me too much of what happened— so I just cut it off myself.

It's grown a bit since, but everyone can still see how badly cut it is.

But he won't care, probably. He'll still somehow find me pretty, in some way, even if I have no idea how. I'll probably mess with him a bit, it's funny when he goes into attorney mode to defend his case.

I hope he has nice dreams, at least. I don't want him to be trapped constantly in a nightmare. It's best if he dreams of hellfire, moments we had in the cafeteria, when we smoked under the bleachers, or when we skipped school because we didn't want to go to science.

That's what I want him to dream about.

As I got up from the chair, taking my stuff, I approached his bed and took his hand in mine. He still felt warm, he wasn't gone.

"I have to go back home, I'll see you again tomorrow though. I promise I'll be back. Sleep well." I said, kissing his forehead. I let go of his hand slowly, looking back at him when I stopped in front of the door, before leaving.

Eddie will wake up soon, he has to.

Crossing the doors of the same hospital I've been going to for more than a month, whose every corner is no longer unknown to me; I went up to the staircase, walking up to the 2nd floor to the room that's almost at the end of the corridor..

Before entering, I took a large inspiration like I do each morning in front of that pale blue door. Maybe I'm just preventing a possible heart attack in case I open that door and find Eddie wide awake.

Unfortunately, that didn't seem to be for today.

I expected this. I'm no less deceived than yesterday.

I set my bag on the empty chair, taking out my radio and turning it on to stay in touch with the others in case we need to talk. Dustin's intermissions are the one I hear the most throughout the day, he's a good kid, always tuning in to talk to Eddie, in case he might hear.

I've heard Dustin took over for Eddie as the Dungeon Master for now, they're doing a special campaign Eddie had stored out for them, so every Friday, I keep the radio at a low volume by the bedside table. It kind of acts as a lullaby for him.

Discarding of my jacket, I walked to the window and opened it, letting out fresh air inside. Everything was fine, again. The world was back to normal, almost. No one can ever forget the students who died at the start of the year, so we're just doing our best to heal for now.

Being the paranoid I am, I rushed to wash my hand in the bathroom by fear of giving him some microbe that might ruin his recovery. I just have to do it, even if I cleaned them at the entry.

That damn mirror is still there for me to see my completely tired face that clearly didn't sleep for a full night. It's just been hard to sleep on my own, it's like I don't even know how to do it anymore. Not feeling his weight on the bed as I'm laying by his side feels strange, the bed seems too big for just myself.

I just have to be patient, again. There's nothing more I can do, I'm not a Cleric or whatever. I can't pull off miracles.

As I turned off the water and dried my hands with the towel by the shower, I walked in the direction of the door and I stopped.

Eddie goddamn Munson was staring right. at. me.

His eyes were clearly opened, it wasn't a hallucination from sleep deprivation, right?

Right?

For a minute, my mouth just hung open. I couldn't seem to let out a word.

"Am I dead or what? You seem like you saw a ghost." Eddie said, looking around at the monitors.

"I'm in a dream, right?" I asked.

"I don't even know if I'm real." He replied.

"Oh god." I started to cry, rushing to his side. "You're back."

"I am?"

"You made it out, you're not dead." I informed. "It's not a dream, Eddie."

"Come here." He said, opening his arms to me. I fell onto his chest, still crying a bit. "I'm here now."

"I thought you'd never wake up."

"Neither did I." Eddie said, brushing my hair with his left hand. "Did you cut it?"

Still laying against his chest, I nodded. "I did. It didn't grow a lot since."

"It's okay, it looks good, even if it's not cut right." He reassured me.

"I know. It's horrendous, but in a good way." I said.

"In a good way, yeah." He answered as I pulled away from his chest to look at him.

"I missed you a lot, it's good to talk to you again." I smiled.

"I missed talking to you in real life. I'm glad." He smiled back, reaching for my right hand.

I took his hand in mine, rubbing his knuckles softly, "There's also other people who missed you, you know."

"I know, I'm too popular." He joked. "Can we wait a bit though, I just want a minute... or forty with you."

I laughed, "Forty sounds good."

"You know I really love you?" Eddie asked out of the blue.

"I do, because... I happen to love you too."

"Oh, you do? That's a surprise." He joked.

"Forever and always, Munson."

I hope you liked this fic :) if you did, don't hesitate to send me an ask! Requests are also appreciated, I write for other characters as well!

#Spotify #stranger things vol 2 #stranger things spoilers #stranger things fic #stranger things #strangers things 4 #eddie munson #eddie munson fix it fic #eddie munson x reader

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fandomsupremacist · 4 months

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irl experiences with the weirdest people known to man; true story. TW for SH, mentioning of zoophilia, threats, and non con, proshipping.

tumblr I'm done with sensitive little creeps who assume everything is about them and who don't just shut the fuck up. There's some dude in my school year who is trans masc, whatever nothing wrong with that. But he always assumes people are oppressing him, and it just makes my blood boil. I'm trans as well, genuinely i am gender fluid and am mostly masculine within that aspect of my identity but I'm not open about it, not every trans person has to disclose their personal identity HOWEVER..

this dude doesn't shut up. Like EVER about it. I talked to him about being trans and my experiences with it to try and relate to him a little. But he turned out to be a massive fucking creep in the end. Short story short, he loves Lego Monkey Kid and indulges in looking at nsfw of the monkeys who are considered brothers in the series (by dna and canonically), which is.. honestly weird as fuck. And he reads transformers smut, makes it as well, sent it on to me with the tag 'Forced Prostitution' on ao3. I just.. don't have any words to say to that .

The thing is, this dude always thinks everything is about him. They used to just go into school, talk to me about traumatic experiences, which I absolutely did not ask for, and expected me to be casual about it.

One day this motherfucker had the audacity to show off his self harm scars, just so casually as well in my old Higher Level math class. He showed them off like they were bracelets on his fucking wrist. He pressurised me into sitting beside him as well, which didn't help the current situation considering my reputation at the time which was poor due to me showing classic indicators of being adhd and zoning out in class.

That's kind of why a lot of people viewed me as weird, and socialising around him didn't help. I'm quiet most of the time in class, I keep to myself and fidget a lot. Sometimes I make conversation by talking to the teachers, or im really loud when talking to my friends, not deliberately anyway, others I literally just take out a book and read after finishing the work. People find that weird, and they find it weirder when i put on my headphones in class as well. But it hardly affects them, so there isn't really any issue realistically.

When it comes to him though, when I hung around this dude more the more I started to realize, okay something is weird. He self diagnoses too much, threatens people who get irritated at him, doesn't research but just cherrypicks symptoms in which he thinks he relates to diagnose himself with the next mental illness.

He genuinely thinks he has a lot. A lot. Schizophrenia, PTSD, two eating disorders, insomnia (diagnosed with adhd and autism) dyscalculia or however you say it, NPD and probably more.

The reason why I think it's necessary to tell you this is because he didn't do research, well much research at all. He straight up just says he has these things and doesn't pass any heat on it. One time he said he had dyspraxia and said it was relevant to numbers and I said no, it isn't. It's a coordination disorder, he responded with, no, it's mathematics. I struggle with seeing mathematical figures coherently. I said dyspraxia is a coordination disorder. I would know, I have it. He just ignored me.

It would be fine if this didn't happen again. But it did, I can assure you.

He thinks it's possible to have two sets of ADHD at once. For example, ADHD and ADD. Which I corrected him again, considering I have researched extensively into these things to get a diagnosis for them, is not fucking possible. Next time he goes in with a crutch, and says he's ambulatory.

Ambulatory.

I cannot make this shit up.

It just shows how little research he does into these things. He brings up his disorders as if people asked him to in conversation and doesn't shut up about them. He's open about being trans as well, which is NOT an issue at all but he makes it seems like its one. Like he wants people to pick on him and fend himself off.

He even used my preferred pronouns at some point in public which was something I clarified in which he shouldn't have done, continued on as well at times.

My friend had some pretty weird experiences with him as well. Friends, in all honesty.

One friend had an experience with him in business where he asked which side would be sharper to cut himself with, the left or the right which was most definetely true considering everyone had experiences about him being open about self harming.

Another experience that another friend had with him was how gross he was. He ate his skin in public and picked at it in class a lot and barely showered, which made it difficult for anyone to hang out with him. And he didn't smell great either .

Another experience I had with him, was a similar pattern of him just liking animals. Fictional animals, but still it was fucking weird.

First it was lego monkey kid fics, he linked them to me, all smut, because I was attempting to know about his interests and he discussed lego monkey kid to me and how it's so interesting, things like that. We had times where we would just go outside and talk about it because why not? He was making an attempt at being my friend at the time so I decided why not do the same.

He knew a lot about it. Really, just a shit ton of information about it. Which was surprising how much, but then he gradually started to go in tangents about how he viewed monkey King as hot or something, and I wasn't even listening at that point. I remember just ignoring him and rolling my eyes in disgust.

Gradually I talked about how I viewed it. I called it out. Said it was weird, and he thought probably that I was joking or something. Which i wasn't.

Then he sent me a wattpad pic on TMNT (teenage mutan ninja turtles) which had a trans reader x Mike or some shit like that. And it was all smut. He reminded me that it was.

It was so weird. I remember saying to him that it was weird, and he responded angrily

,'Look at all the other fics I've sent you and tell me that again', I could have easily just done that because they were all animals. And he was acting like me getting weirded out by the fact that they were animals and was weird on its own.

It got annoying. I started blocking him on all platforms, tiktok and then pinterest and he would bring it up in real life as if it deserved clarification.

There was also a time when he mocked one of someone whom I knew and their learning disability. He made fun of them and called them stupid when they had difficulty processing something and emphasised on it as well as though he hadn't just received clarification on it.

He threatened people as well. He'd bring up stories when we had P.E class on how he treated kids with learning disabilities and how he threatened kids in school with a knife. I just chuckled nervously because honestly how the fuck was I supposed to respond?

I blocked him again. His parents check his socials but clearly haven't checked his ao3. If they had, I would genuinely feel bad for them. They're meant to be pretty strict according to him but if I had a kid like that, honest to fucking God I would be too. He ended up threatening my brother at some point as well.

I remember just going into the school cafeteria and him just fighting with my brother over Lennie from Of Mice And Men and my brother was on about killing Lennie with a cocaine bear which I honestly found pretty funny. Lennie obviously demonstrated key features of being autistic which of course the creep ended up getting pissed about.

Honestly I viewed lennie from of mice and men to be fine, whatever. I'm autistic myself (not self diagnosed) so I didn't really care much about my brothers comment regarding him. We were studying of mice and men in our English class before which is how the conversation evolved. In case you don't know, the weird dude and my brother are both in my English class.

He ended up threatening to hit my brother with a crutch as he accused him of being ableist. Some shit like that. In all honesty, my brother was not ableist. He just says shit like that when it comes to characters who do things wrong by accident. In which case, lennie evidently did.

The dude at this point was not having it. He said he went to jail like 3 times and that he was going to hit my brother if he didn't shut up, and added that he was the only disabled person in our English class which nearly made me combust.

He is not the only disabled person in the English class.

Anyway I blocked him again. Currently it's the Christmas holidays so much isn't going on, but if he ever does talk to me next time irl, I will genuinely tell him to fuck off.

And I reported him to the principal for threatening my brother like that because he is not allowed to do that. Especially when it comes to my family members.

I will probably update this in the future as he will be asking me why I blocked him lmaoooo

Thank u if u read this I genuinely had to get this shit off my chest bc the amount of stress I get from this dude is insane.

#true story #weird kid #tw zoophile mention #anti zoophile #self diagnosis #tumblr fyp #creep #anti proship #anti proshitter #anti non con

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panda-writes-kpop · 2 years

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Demon! SuA - Tainted Love

A/N: Hi guys, girls, and non-binary pearls! This is a bit of a longer piece, so I'd grab a water and maybe something to eat before sitting down. You might want to grab some tissues while you're up, if you're wondering what kind of fic this is. Also, big thank you to @kingmaker-a for giving this fic a read before it came out! I had to have the Angstmaker give his stamp of approval if I was gonna write some angst, and I'm so glad that I did. 💖

Masterlist!

TW: Mentions of labyrinths, lots of angst, author venting, demons (no duh, Katie), self-deprication, mentions of food, serial killers, and hell, more angst, a toxic relationship, blood, mention of oceans and drowning, implied torture (?), mentions of death, religious themes, reader drinks alcohol, no happy ending :), also SuA acts very ooc and I definitely would not use this as an accurate judge of her character or personality.

Sometimes I feel I've got to

Run away I've got to

Everyone faces a labyrinth of sorts in their life. Whether it’s the physical limitations of their body, the mental anguish that comes with living life, or that feeling of isolation that everyone experiences from time to time, the personalized labyrinth of life comes for us all at one point or another.

Most people find an escape to their labyrinth. You can strengthen your body so you can push the limits of your body, you can talk to someone who can help you understand and control your feelings, and you can find comfort in the love of your friends and family when you feel alone.

My labyrinth, however, is one that I will never escape. It has a tight grip on me that I will never escape because I don’t want to let go of it. My labyrinth is my crutch, and it’s a poison that’s killing me from the inside. I can never let go of the thing that I want the most, no matter how much I want to run from it.

Love. Love is the labyrinth that I choose to face head-on. No matter how much love bites me, I want to believe that love will be my savior even though it’s my torturer. I let myself get hurt over and over again for a simple what if that will never come my way.

What if… that’s a statement that will lead you to an endless amount of questions that will never lead you to the answer that you seek.

What if I talked to them more? What if I was a better listener? What if I was more attractive? What if I was smarter?

What if instead of trying to gain love advice from a demon and then falling in love with her, I just talked to someone about my problems?

What if?

I guess that’s the reason I’m trying to run away. How do you get away from the problems that you create? How do you find your escape to the labyrinth?

In my case, I answered both of those questions in the stupidest way possible.

Get away

From the pain you drive into the heart of me

Everything started when I was young. That’s where that labyrinth of love started to surround me, and I wasn’t able to find an escape.

When we were kids, we threw love around as a silly word that didn’t mean much. Love was just another normal expression that we used on a day-to-day basis. We loved drawing, we loved playing on the swing set, and we loved being young and free to do as we pleased.

As a teenager, love has a different meaning. Love can be used as a sweet safety blanket or a fiery weapon of destruction. It wouldn’t be uncommon to see a couple act all lovey-dovey in the morning, and then you’d see them arguing by the end of the day. Love was used as an excuse for horrible actions and bad mistakes. Love became a sword that would protect you or harm you. The scary thing was, you didn’t know which sword was which until someone tried to use it against you.

Love was like a whispered secret that I had yet to discover. A secret that had yet to make its rounds to my ear, but even then, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hear it. I mostly stayed out of the dating scene as a teen, but I did try and fail a few times. Every time the hope of love would build me up to a new height, the reality of me not being good enough for the people I was interested in would bring me back down to Earth. I was scorned by love, but I kept trying because I was a stupid kid.

I trapped myself in my own labyrinth of love. I put myself through so much trauma that I distanced myself from the world. I felt unlovable because the world had yet to tell me that I was. I convinced myself that some white knight would come and save me from this labyrinth. I didn’t want to leave, so someone would have to come rescue me.

As for that white knight, I didn’t exactly have a demon whose job was to screw me over in mind.

Now, as an adult, I have yet to discover what love is to me. Is love innocent like childhood, or is it as harmful as my teenage mind made it out to be? Was love both or neither?

I didn’t know love until I saw her. Everything that I felt before that moment didn’t matter. I’d forgotten how much love had betrayed me when I went up and talked to her for the first time. I didn’t need anyone else if she was by my side.

We weren’t kids, and we weren’t teens. We were adults who could make a relationship work, right? I just had to make her fall for me like I had fallen for her.

...But love has different plans that left me alone in the labyrinth once again. She fell in love with someone who was better than I was, and I simply couldn’t be mad at her for that. She deserves someone who would love her, and that obviously wasn’t me.

Heartbroken, I wandered home alone the day I found out about her partner. I didn’t care that it was dark, and that I could’ve gotten hurt. I felt numb like nothing in the world could hurt me. I felt like I couldn’t hurt myself even though my body would feel the pain later on.

That’s when I found the book. A torn book with ripped pages and scribbled handwriting. That book would show me how to escape my labyrinth by placing me in an even bigger one.

I should’ve left that god-forsaken book on the sidewalk, or in the trash where it belonged.

I, being the fool that I am, had to pick up the book. A bit of light reading couldn’t hurt after a rough day, right?

Right?

The love we share

Seems to go nowhere

I came home and closed the door behind me while clutching the book close to my chest. It was my prized possession that I had won for losing at the most important aspect in life.

I set my coat and other material possessions aside for the book, and I turned on a lamp and sat down in a nearby chair.

I merely skimmed the book as I tried to decipher its hidden meaning. Why would a book like that appear in my life if it didn’t mean something? Everything in the world meant something to someone. As I admired those pages, I tried to think of what use that book would have to me. It’s unreadable handwriting had no monetary value, and the book looked like it had been through hell and back.

Oh, only if I knew that book really had been through hell.

Sleep quickly overcame me as I finished searching through the book, and I gently set the book on the table next to me.

Too tired to walk to bed, I simply slept on that chair as my mind spent another night dreaming of those stupid ‘what ifs’.

I arose in a state of complete disarray as the morning light peeked through my home’s windows. Luckily, it was the weekend and I didn’t have to worry about working the next day.

I pulled myself out of the chair and began to prepare breakfast. Breakfast was the most important meal of the day, but I didn’t care to eat much as my mind still wandered over the what ifs of life.

What if I had made a move earlier? What if I waited until they broke up to date her? What if I wasn’t good enough for her? What if, what if, what if.

At that moment, while drowning my sorrows in a bowl of cereal and milk, I met “the one”.

She wasn’t anything like the girl from earlier. The girl I loved was sweeter than honey and had a heart made of gold.

The girl that I was about to meet would make serial killers look like saints if they stood next to her.

All I remember was looking up, and she was there. While I sat with that bowl of depressing cereal in front of me, she leaned over me and gently scanned me over with her eyes. Her hand gently graced my face for a moment, and I remember feeling like I wanted her to keep her hand there forever.

The girl leaned away from me before chuckling. She stuck her hand out as the morning light illuminated her fierce features.

Her strong jawline would make a model jealous, and her piercing brown eyes could cut straight through someone without a second glance. Her black suit defined her perfect figure as her brown hair seemed to float behind her head.

Everything about her screamed dangerous and deadly, but I couldn’t see the beast past the beauty in front of me. I didn’t question how she got in my house or why such a beautiful woman was in front of me.

To be fair, I didn’t really care at that moment in time, either.

She laughed again before wiggling her fingers in her extended hand. That laugh was a sound that I loved and dreaded. She used it when she was happy, or when she was very mad.

“The name’s SuA, and by the way you’re looking at me, I can tell we’ll be great pals.”

Pals, as SuA said it, would be the last word in the dictionary that I would use to describe our relationship.

Our relationship was like an endless loop of love, hurt, pain, and apologies. She was the labyrinth that I trapped myself in after escaping the loveless one.

Turns out, the only thing that’s worse than a loveless labyrinth is a labyrinth that is tainted with a love that’ll break you to your core.

And I've lost my light

For I toss and turn I can't sleep at night

I sat there, stunned by her forwardness. Was she really talking to me? Was a woman that perfect really in my home? Did my dreams finally come to fruition, or had I finally gone mad from my desires?

Stupidly, I slipped my hand into hers, and I shaked it while trying to understand what exactly was happening.

“Y/N. I can’t help but wonder, why exactly are you in my home?”

SuA’s laughter hit my ears again, and I’d already become addicted to the sound of her happiness that echoes through my home.

“Oh, you humans are so naive! It’s adorable.” SuA gently tapped my nose which caused a wildfire of red to spread across my face. “You summoned me with that handy-dandy book that you found.”

My eyes widened as I grabbed the book from the table.

I was in absolute disbelief of what she was suggesting to me. Summoning? Demons are summoned, and the woman in front of me didn’t look like a demon.

Well, demons aren’t just called demons because of their looks. That was a lesson that I had yet to learn when this encounter took place.

I, in a moment of blinding idiocracy, asked her the first thing that came to mind.

“So, does that make you a demon?”

“Unless angels have started popping up from bibles, and the last time I checked they haven’t, I’m the only creature that you can find from a book.”

SuA sighed before pulling her hand from me. She then raised one hand in the air which caused every object that was on my table, including my bowl of cereal, to float in the air. The objects nearly touched my ceiling by the time SuA lowered her hand to her side.

My mouth was wide open in shock as SuA flashed me a wicked smirk. Was she really that powerful?

“You like what you see, right? That’s only the beginning of what we could do together. We can be a great team, but I need you to trust me.”

SuA took a seat on top of my small kitchen table before snatching the leather-bound book.

“Hey, what are you-”

“Hush.” SuA closed her hand, and at the exact same time, my hand covers my mouth. “You’re a lot more attractive when you stop talking.”

I grumbled in slight protest as I blushed out of embarrassment. SuA simply shakes her head before opening the book.

“God, I missed this thing. I’m glad that I was bound to this book because of how powerful it is.” SuA flipped through a few pages. “Ah, yes, the spells about torture, pain, heartbreak, romance-”

Her eyes glanced over to me after she said the word ‘romance’, and she chuckled as my eyes widened at its mentioning.

“You poor lovesick fool. You’ve fallen in love with someone who doesn’t love you back, right?”

I nodded my head before SuA clicked her tongue.

“I can fix that for you, if you’d like. All I need is your permission.”

SuA relaxed her hand, and my hand dropped from my mouth. I took a deep breath before answering.

“Please help me out, SuA. Do whatever you need to.”

I didn’t sleep that night, but for the first time in a long time, it wasn’t due to those stupid ‘what ifs’. I opened a whole can of worms that I had to deal with on my own.

As I rolled back and forth on my bed, I tried to forget everything that happened, but I couldn’t.

Everything about SuA stuck out in my mind. I already could envision her smiles, laughter, or smirks with a simple thought. I knew where my mind was going before I was able to make the conclusion.

I was crushing on a demon that was doing god knows what in order to get me a girl I didn’t want anymore. I had stopped thinking about her the moment SuA appeared.

SuA was charismatic, funny, and an interesting person to be around. Why hadn’t I figured this out earlier? I could’ve told her then, and this whole mess wouldn’t have happened.

The mess I am referring to is the only mess that a demon knows how to make.

You see, giving a demon the freedom to do anything is like playing Russian Roulette. You don’t know what the hell is about to happen, but it’s about to be bloody and ugly.

I shouldn’t have let a demon become a beacon of light for me. I should’ve stayed in my closet-sized labyrinth and waited for better days to come.

Go read a book or go outside. Talk to someone if you’re not feeling well. Whatever you do, don’t pick up strange books, accidentally summon a very attractive demon, and then fall in love with her. It’s a very awful, bad, and an all-around horrendous idea.

When SuA walked in with blood on her hands, the first thing I should’ve asked about was who she hurt. Demons can’t be hurt because they’re immortal.

In another moment of stupidity, I asked her if she was okay.

SuA simply sighed before saying, “It's done. You’re welcome, by the way.”

“What did you do?”

“You don’t want to know.” SuA deadpans before walking into my bathroom.

I assumed that she was cleaning the blood off, and I didn’t want to know anymore than I had to. I simply let what had happened happen. I had no control over her, and besides, she can’t do something that bad to a living person. Demons should have some sort of self-control, right?

Should have, could have, would have. Those are three phrases that I hate more than what ifs. What ifs are just questions that you ask yourself over and over. Eventually, your mind grows tired and they stop.

But those words, they never stop. They’ll put you right back into your past mistakes until you’re drowning in a sea of regret, misery, and self-pity. You won’t be able to breathe because the waves of endless possibilities will crash against you over and over until you stop fighting it. You don’t swim when you’re thinking about everything you could’ve, should’ve, would’ve done in a certain scenario. You sink as those thoughts pull you in like a heavy anchor that is attached to your ankle.

I should’ve swam far away when I first saw SuA. I should’ve left the country and gotten a new life. That would’ve put me in a much better position than I’m in now.

But I choose to be continuously pulled into the riptide. At this point in time, it’s a waiting game until I drown myself in my own misery.

Once I ran to you (I ran)

Now, I'll run from you

“Why the hell did you kill them?” I frantically waved my hands at the television as you tried to catch SuA’s attention.

Apparently, SuA’s fingernails were more important than my external panic as she stared at her nails while shrugging her shoulders.

“You told me to do whatever I needed to, and I did.”

“That wasn’t what I meant!” I yell as I nearly pull hairs out of my head while pacing back and forth in my living room.

“Jeez, take a chill pill. I wouldn’t have maimed them if I knew you were going to act like this.”

“You did WHAT?”

A couple’s first fight usually happens after a first date, first kiss, and if they’re lucky, when they first move in together. Since SuA and I are the off-brand version of a normal romantic relationship, we apparently decided to do things a bit out of order.

That being said, we weren’t exactly a couple back then, and I’m not sure if I would call us a couple now, after everything that’s happened.

“I just broke a few bones, dunked them in a nice ice bath, and then tossed them on a side of a road where there’s a lot of oncoming traffic. Whatever happened after that wasn’t directly my fault.” SuA said while digging through my fridge. “What kind of monster doesn’t have orange juice?”

“Hey, get out of there!” I turned the TV off before rushing over to her. “I haven’t had time to go to the store.”

“Do you mind if I make a sandwich?”

“I don’t know, SuA. Do you plan on killing anyone else?” I exasperatedly sighed before leaning on the fridge.

SuA bit her lip before closing the fridge door.

“I’ll take that as a ‘no’, then.”

We both stood there awkwardly as we tried to think of something to say to one another. We came to a threshold that couldn’t be crossed. Granted, most couples don’t exactly tend to fight about murdering someone, but we tried to make it work.

“What happens next?” I softly asked. “How do we fix this?”

“There’s no fixing this, Y/N. I’m a demon, not a miracle worker. We go on with our lives. You get the girl, and I get the book. We have had a mutually beneficial relationship so far, and I’m glad to have met you, but I’ve really got to go now.”

SuA tried to grab the book from the table, but I grabbed it before she could.

“What if I told you that I didn’t want her anymore?”

SuA rolls her eyes before crossing her arms.

“You’re telling me that I murdered someone just for you to get wishy-washy on me? How pathetic.” She spit out before looking at me with disgust.

“I’m not the one who murdered someone. You did that all on your own. Besides, the girl that I have my eye on is much prettier than the first.”

SuA raises an eyebrow.

“Oh, and who would that be?”

SuA unfolded her arms before walking towards me. I kept a blank face as she closed in on me. I can feel my heartbeat all over my body as my mind begins to wander.

Would she let me kiss her? I guess I can find out now.

SuA put her face close to mine, and I’m so close that I could feel her breath tickle my cheek. This is everything I’ve ever wanted, but I can’t be the first one to make the move.

If she’s the one to save me from my labyrinth, then SuA must show that she's interested in me first.

I didn’t have to think twice as SuA’s lips connect with mine.

The taste of black licorice entered my mouth, and it was a flavor that I was permanently hooked on. No candy nor sweet could compare to her. Everything about her was perfect, and everything about that moment was perfect too.

SuA and I were like two shooting stars. We had two different paths in the night sky that eventually led us to one another. Normally, stars don’t collide with one another, but we did. Unfortunately, when two stars collide, they don’t stick together.

They explode.

This tainted love you've given

I give you all “a boy” could give you

Take my tears and that's not nearly all

I had tried to make it work. I knew that nothing would work when it came to SuA. She was a demon, and I was mortal. You can’t combine oil and water because they eventually separate from each other. We might have been oil and water, but we couldn’t let go of one another right from the start to the very end.

I knew how this would end. All of the fighting and screaming had to end sometime. I thought it would end with her walking out on me, and to her credit, SuA did walk out, but she always came right back to me.

I wasn’t much better, either. I told her how much I hated everything about her even though I loved her to death. I told her that she was a horrible person even though she was the only person that I could trust. I told her to never lay another hand on me even though she’d be holding me by nightfall.

We were both victims and perpetrators in a crime of passion and love. No cops would catch us because we’d act fine on the outside, like nothing had happened. Our relationship was perfect because that’s all the neighbors needed to worry about.

Oh, that screaming that you heard? Sorry, the music was too loud!

The sound of glass breaking woke you up at one in the morning? Sorry, my girlfriend had the munchies and she accidentally dropped the glass container of cookies. You don’t have to worry about us!

That crying sound? We had a movie night with a few friends, and some of us got really emotional. We’ll try to pick something happier next time.

Lies, lies, lies. It seemed like everything in our relationship was built on a lie.

SuA wasn’t the one who lied. Oh, no, I had to be the bad guy.

Of course I was the antagonist. We both weren’t to blame for a failing relationship, right? It was all my fault because I started this whole thing.

SuA didn’t have to kiss me. She didn’t have to save me from my labyrinth. She could’ve left me alone while running off with that magic book of hers.

But no, she kissed me and here we are. SuA slammed the door in my face after another heated fight, and I’m drinking my sorrows away while trying to figure out where I went wrong.

I do this once a week, but I haven’t learned my lesson. I know that SuA will come home and degrade me for drinking alone, but I’ll sit and take it on my chin in the name of “love”.

What sort of sick, twisted love have we wrapped ourselves in? This isn’t love, and I know it. Hell, I’m sure SuA does too.

Sure, love can hurt, but you shouldn’t feel like you’re being run over by a fifty-ton dump truck every time you talk to your partner. Love can burn, but you shouldn’t be covered in third-degree burns on a daily basis. Love can make you bleed, but you shouldn’t be left to die with cuts all over your body.

I take a swig of the drink in front of me, and I enjoy feeling it burn as the liquid travels down my throat.

Nothing can hurt you more than love except your thoughts, and I’ve been hurt by both on numerous occasions.

Without thinking, I take my drink and chuck it at the TV in front of me. Of course, the TV screen shatters along with the drink. I know that SuA will be pissed when she comes home, but I don’t care about our relationship or what others may think.

Numbness has replaced any sort of feeling I have towards her. We can dance this dance as many times as we wish because I won’t let her words or actions hurt me anymore.

My feet wobble as I make my way over to the couch. As soon as my body hits the couch, the tears flow from my face as the weight of my actions crashes down on me.

I’ll never escape this labyrinth. I’m stuck in a labyrinth that I made with my own desires. My home is my prison, and my heart is prisoner. I’m simply a vessel that carries my heart and emotions from place to place.

This labyrinth has spiraled out of control, and it’s bigger than my relationship with SuA. My mind, my thoughts, my actions, and my words are my labyrinth. SuA’s just a pawn that my mind uses to reason with me. It’s sick and it’s twisted, but I can’t help but to want more of that sweet drug that my brain offers me. I don’t want to be here anymore, but I can’t escape my mind even if I leave SuA.

As my eyes close, one final thought enters my mind, and it’s the worst one yet.

I’ve done all of this thinking and contemplating. I know how I want to act, and I know what I should do next. I need to leave SuA, and I need to get help for whatever’s going on in my head. I just know that I can’t because I won’t remember a single thing that I’ve thought about in the morning, and I’ll continue running around my labyrinth like nothing is wrong.

Oh, tainted love

Tainted love

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ionlytalktodogs · 2 years

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hii! I had a mobility aid related question. no pressure to answer I just kinda wanted to talk to about mobility aid stuff to someone who uses one. is it okay to get a mobility aid even if ur in phys therapy to try to strengthen yourself and have muscle atrophy? would it be considered “giving up/letting myself become worse” to them if I used one? they said movement is good for me and good for people with pain but it’s hard to do things with pain and weakness and I would like to also do the exercises they give me but would it not make a difference if I got a mobility aid? would I just mess it up even if I’m doing the exercises? both of my knees/legs cause trouble and so do my arms, back, shoulders, and hands so I thought maybe a cane and rollater wouldn’t be a good option but possibly forearm crutches and a wheelchair would be? but since I have weakness/pain in my arms/hands/etc would it be difficult to use those? or could it even help build strength in my upper body by doing so? tbh it’s just. when is it okay to get a mobility aid do u have to have a doctors approval? would I be ruining any progress I could make by using an aid?

Oh my gosh I love this ask because I literally had all these same questions less than a year ago and now I actually know the answers! Obligatory I’m not a doctor this is based on personal experience take it with a grain of salt

First of all muscle strengthening and muscle atrophy:

Muscle atrophy in mobility aid users is a complicated subject but the way people discuss it is entirely incorrect. If you have a paralyzed body part and cannot move it at all, it might atrophy since the muscles aren’t…you know…muscling. But the thing is if you aren’t paralyzed, you are moving your muscles all the time. You change positions while sitting, you use the bathroom, even if you use a wheelchair all the time just being able to move your legs at all means you’re using your muscles (muscles flex, stretch, and contract often without you even realizing it).

My brother sits in a gaming chair all day. He spends all his time gaming, he only gets up to use the bathroom or occasionally get some food to bring to his room and eat while he games. As a wheelchair user, I walk about the same amount as he does (to use the bathroom and occasionally I’ll go into another room in my house without my chair). His muscles don’t atrophy, mine don’t either. Also? Using mobility aids in of itself IS exercise. Pushing a chair is hard work. Using forearm crutches is hard work. Carrying around a cane is hard work. Pushing a walker or rollator is hard work. Etc.

Anyway here’s my point: using a mobility aid is NOT giving up and it won’t make your muscles weaken or atrophy. There’s nothing wrong with using a mobility aid while being in PT either! PT can take months or even years to go into effect, you need to be able to live your life in the meantime.

Here’s the hard part: you probably will be told you’re “giving up” or “letting yourself go” if you get an aid. Abled people love to say that you should push yourself to your limits and no pain no gain! Truth is you deserve rest, you deserve to not be in pain all the time, if that comes with using an aid then DO IT! Screw what anyone says! You deserve a life without suffering!

You do NOT have to have a doctor’s approval to use a mobility aid! You know your body. And you most likely would not be ruining your progress, if you choose the right aid.

The thing about physical therapy is it’s about strengthening over time. Sitting down for one second does not negate the fact that you lifted a fifty pound weight at the gym. Sleeping does not negate that you ran a mile in track. So using a mobility aid does not negate the work you do in physical therapy. And sitting down for a second means maybe when you get up again you can lift a hundred pounds instead of fifty! Sleeping means maybe you can run two miles in track instead of one! Using a mobility aid means you’ll have even more energy (and less pain) for your exercises! Rest is just as important as exercise when you’re strengthening your muscles.

Now here’s the thing: choosing the right aid is hard. I don’t know what your specific condition is but if you have a lot of pain in your arms and hands I might suggest not doing a wheelchair. If you have weakness and you’re looking to strengthen your arms and hands, a wheelchair is probably one of the best things you can do imo lol I can say for sure I have way better upper body strength now then before I got my chair, but if pushing it would exacerbate your pain I would not recommend that. An electric wheelchair would work but those are really expensive.

I would recommend forearm crutches perhaps? They could strengthen your upper body without putting too much weight on your hands or arms. I definitely recommend researching ones with good cushioning and ergonomic structure though! However I don’t have a lot of personal experience with these since I’ve mostly just used underarm crutches so I recommend doing a lot of research!

I hope that helps! Sorry this was such a long post I’m passionate about this subject lol

#again take this with a grain of salt

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jabithajates · 2 years

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Please write the essay because I'm quite upset with tonight's episode and if they blow up Jabitha to bring BH back after everything that's happened, I will riot. I need to be talked down because I hate what they did to Jug and Tabi with this.

Oh dude I know. The slightest idea that it could happen is rage inducing and this is basically me talking myself down.

But…we’ve been here before. His hallucinations of Betty in season 5 were a lot more incriminating. That was the time where it was really a possibility that they truly would’ve explored bringing them back: Tabitha wasn’t as established as a character then, she’d only been in six episodes, Jabitha only had one kiss under their belt, and Jughead couldn’t shake his idealism of Betty. Then he confronted it, worked on his sobriety, and committed to Tabitha.

Like in season 5, they also can’t be brought back if the other half of the ship is totally disinterested in him while deeply invested in Archie. Betty hasn’t reminisced about Jughead once in the last two seasons honestly and I can’t see that changing anytime soon. I wish Jughead would move on as seamlessly as she has, he has the right to and needs to.

Fortunately, I think he’ll let it rest soon. For one thing, he’s remembering concrete memories now…one of which is a kiss he and her had when she was lying to him about Archie. He isn’t solely centering her as this savior anymore, these are the memories that he associated with a breakup that he called traumatic. @jabitha-endgame pointed out, how he looks horrified remembering it and then immediately texts back Tabitha “Thank God. I really miss you.” when he finds out she’s coming home soon. I’ve seen Twitter try and pin the text escaping him from the memories as guilt for emotionally cheating, which is funny because Tabitha is the one he’s been centering as a savior now, and I think the show was a subtle way of the show acknowledging that. I also think he’s mainly embarrassed and scared at how godawful his abandonment issues have gotten. He has a pattern of spiraling anytime he’s out of her sight: escaping back to New York, trying to go back to his serpent youth and wrecking a bike, admitted randomly last episode that his worst fear is dying alone like his grandfather. Like calm the fuck dude she’s coming back. Riverdale has made it a theme this season about confronting and overcoming childhood issues. Betty is only a small part of the problem at this point, he has to confront the same abandonment issue he’s had since his first ever scene in season one in order for him to let himself be secure in his attachment with her and accept her love and his love for her. The fact that he was unable to throw the book in the fire last episode is foretelling. Everyone else was readily willing to let go of their past crutches except for him, because like in Vale, he’ll hold onto the past even if it’s harmful and detrimental. Like in Vale, Tabitha’s going to bring this to the forefront and destroy it because they’ll realize out their love is the only thing strong enough to.

I hope I make sense because I seriously feel like him right now.

The crawling infestation has been exterminated before, so they’re fated to do it again. Only thing simmering is the boiling lead up to the ILY, y’all.

#asks #jabitha #jughead jones #tabitha tate #I really do think we’re fine y’all #it’s frustrating but….idk I get what they’re doing

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strzzeka · 1 year

Text

OneOff

In December 2021, I published Thirstysomething, a story about two guys who started a bar where the entire staff are arm amputees and wear hooks. This is the middle story of a trilogy. OneOff is their second bar, not far away from Thirstysomething, where all the staff wear peg legs. Things soon get out of hand as stump jealousy raises its inevitable head and most of the bar staff end up teetering about on two pegs.

legbry.blogspot.com/2023/02/oneoff-sequel-to-thirstysomething-dec.html

As always, here is a sample.

Conrad started early and drove the three hundred kilometres to Philip Lee’s home and studio.

– How good to see you again, Conrad! Welcome. Do come around to our atelier. The peg legs are packed ready for transport. I was expecting you to request a courier delivery.

– Well, apart from wanting to finalize our financial transaction together, there is something I would like to discuss with you which you hinted at on our first visit.

– Very well. Let’s go inside and James can place the package in your car. James! Would you take the peg legs to Mr Colby’s car?

– Certainly, sir.

– Oh, how officious he is! Would you like something to drink? Coffee, tea?

– A mug of tea would be very welcome.

– I’ll see to it. Shall we go into the sitting room or will this be suitable?

– The kitchen’s fine. Now first things first. How would you prefer the payment to be made?

– Bank transfer to my company account would be perfect.

– Very good.

Conrad activated his banking app and made the transfer, showing Lee the debit.

– Thank you very much.

He tottered to the lower kitchen counter and fussed with a teapot. He brought over two stoneware mugs and returned for the tea.

– What else was it you wanted to discuss? More sculpting work for me?

– No, not yet at least. I am sure there will be more in future if you are willing to carry it out. No, I want to talk with you about your ex-army surgeon contact. More precisely, I would like to know if he would be willing to perform two disarticulations of my legs.

– Good heavens above, that is rather drastic, don’t you think?

– My man Colin has two disarts and uses a torso socket with stubby legs and crutches. He appears to me to be the epitome of eroticism. I wish to emulate him. I find my long thigh stumps to be a source of continual dissatisfaction and I wish to be rid of them as soon as possible.

– I see. It seems odd to me that you should dislike having such long stumps but everyone to his own. I have your details, of course, and I shall forward them to my friend. He will certainly let you know if he is available for the operation in the near future and you will be able to work out a timetable between yourselves.

– Thank you very much. I myself have my hands full, so to speak, for the next few weeks as we start our new bistro but I hope that I will be approaching my final body shape by late summer. I may yet decide to forgo my left arm to make it symmetrical with my right stump.

– You would be a bilateral upper arm amputee using split hooks and mechanical elbows and sitting in a torso socket with peg arms for mobility.

– Exactly. And I would like you to make two torso sockets with matching peg arms for us. Which reminds me, I have brought your scanner back. It’s in the car.

– Oh good. Thank you.

– All this is a secret from Colin, by the way. It’s not that he wouldn’t approve but I want to surprise him.

– I understand. I shall be discrete and bear your secret in mind when I communicate with you.

– Thank you for your hospitality. I must be off now in order to be back before opening hours.

– Yes, of course. Please remember me to Colin. Goodbye, Conrad.

Conrad stumped over to his car, checked that the peg legs were stashed securely and removed his stubbies and arm prostheses. The return journey would be stump-powered.

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omomygods · 2 years

Text

Disaster strikes, but I'm not alone here♡

Yesterday, I set out to work. Made a few catches, and put my phone out of the way to continue walking. Partner on the phone, we're having small talk...

*CRACK*

I lurch forward. Phone hits the asphalt, headphones bounce off of my head.

My ankle is...well, it HURTS. The pothole in the shoulder is new and fresh.

I know I need to get my phone and headphones so I can confirm that no, I didn't get hit by a car. When I mention my ankle (after I get my breath), he suggests he call the EMTs. Before I know it, he's off.

Cars are roaring past. I'm trying not to see them. A sweet old lady stops by me, asking what happened. At this point, I feel...

Weirdly calm.

I explain what's happened, and she makes a suggestion—I call my job, to let them know what happened, and she calls the EMTs. As she gets them the relevant info, a cop car stops: the driver knows me from my walk, and thought it seemed weird to see me taking a break at the side of the road (Me, literally doing finger guns: "Funny story, actually..."). I mention my ankle, and realize I can at least help out here: I yank off my sock and shoe.

"Eeesh."

The swelling is not in the place the sensations suggested. It rather looks like I've sprouted an extra ankle. It occurs to me that I can fix some of the pain with my first aid kit, so I slather on my stuff as we wait for the ambulance.

My partner is there when I get there, and we wait for intake. X-rays are ordered and taken with a quickness. Within a couple hours we know it: I've broken my ankle. I'm going to be out about 6-8 weeks at work.

It turns out that I have lost enough strength that I have to scoot on my butt to get upstairs, as I couldn't hold myself up on the crutches. We drop me on the couch, and we settle in for watching TV, to get me thinking about something else. The fact is at that point my brain was starting to run again, and I start catching my thoughts going places I don't like. I smash the thoughts down again and breathe a sigh of relief...until I realize...

I gotta pee. Bad. Getting worse.

I mention this, and we try to get me into this thing our neighbor loaned us. I'm having an impossible time trying to steer the thing, when—

"Whoa whoa, get outta there—"

The walker's started to collapse on one side. I'm too heavy for it...

So I have to scoot across the floor. Slowly. Struggling. By the time I figure out how to get into the bathroom, that's when I realize I'm in the wrong direction.

My muscles burn. My ankle hurts. And I'm starting to freak out.

It took five minutes to turn my body (avoiding the splint job) and get on the toilet...another three to figure out how to get my bottoms off.

A cascade of thoughts rushes through my head once I'm properly seated.

Weak. Flimsy. Useless. ...Liability.

Around the time "liability" parades through, I hear my partner, on the phone with a service that provides in-home care. I hear the tones of voice. He's keeping it quiet, presumably to keep me from freaking out, but I'm already biting down hard on the side of my hand trying desperately to keep myself quiet in there. It's not working. Eventually, he comes in and sees me, at quite possibly my most pathetic, crying on the toilet with my pants half off. Asking me to explain results in more questions; he helps me out of the bathroom and we have some couch time.

It takes everything in me to admit to him I'm worried I'd become a liability.

He doesn't care.

He'd thought I'd been hit by a car.

"Broke an ankle in a pothole" was good news.

That's when he decides, let's just get to bed, because the day has just been too big. I cannot agree faster. We do the hoist and drag, we pass the bathroom...and I freeze.

"Babe we gotta keep moving."

Breathe.

"I need a favor. Getting around is really hard right now and I think I would feel safer with a—"

"Gotcha."

We drag me onto the mattress, and then I reach for my training pants.

"Babe, what are you doing?"

I'm confused. Did I do something wrong, or...

"Up. Legs up."

No Thoughts. Head Empty. I just kinda...stare. Then I remember I'm supposed to be putting my legs up. So I do, kinda, mostly...and he changed me for the night. He put me In a nappy, gave me a little kiss, and bundled me up for sleep.

-----

It's the next day. Nervous bladder has officially set in, but...I can deal with that tonight.

He washed my hair and helped me bathe with my favorite soap. As I prepared to reach for my training pants, he waved me into the bedroom and put me in fresh training pants again.

I've never had anything like this before. I've never been taken care of like this. Like I really, really matter. He's seen me at my mental lowest. He's seen me here, my new physical lowest. He didn't bail on me. And even lying there on my back, at the absolute unguardedest nakedest moment I've ever experienced...he doesn't look at me any different.

Suddenly, being afraid of being a bedwetter just seemed...silly.

The look on his face is laser-engraved into my mind. I send my brain there every few minutes for a reminder. It makes me wanna hold something soft and enjoy the way it makes a fire in my chest and burns my eyes.

My affect is reasserting itself now, two months off the antipsychotics. But...if it's this intense like this now, and I do have more progress coming now? This might just kill me.

...or I might just discover I'm going to turn into a person that CRIES, ugh... I'm embarrassed.

#omomg gets chatty #not omo

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queen-ofsunflowers · 2 years

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Roundabout - Chapter 2 Preview

Underneath the Colosseum

In which things happen in Rome.

When Eleonora explained to Dante what had exactly happened between her and their new Hamon User, he was shocked, but not surprised. The guy apparently had a reputation for breaking every possible law that he could and was an extremely violent, hotheaded delinquent. Dante had only found out about him because he nearly had walked in on a fight that the boy was in the middle of. He had run, but not before he had seen Hamon crackling at the boy’s fingertips.

It was a relief that he had promised to stay silent about the encounter that Eleonora had with him. If their grandfather found out, Lorenzo would be furious. Even so, they still needed to bring that boy in as promised. This led to a very, very long week that Eleonora just wanted to end. Nearly every morning, she and her brother would set out and tail their Hamon User as either one of them tried to work up the nerve to approach him. And every day, they would fail to do so and report back to their grandfather that they were unable to find him.

Eleonora thought that it was a miracle that he believed the both of them, but she and Dante couldn’t keep it up for long. She had to return to Venice at some point, and she didn’t want to go back a failure after how much she had pleaded with her teacher to let her be here in the first place.

It was there when she sat on the end of the dock, staring down at the water as she tried to think of how to fix her terrible mistake when the unmistakable sound of footfalls and a crutch hitting the wood hit her ears. She glanced over her shoulder as her grandfather walked over.

“Do you mind if I join you?” he asked. Eleonora shook her head, and Lorenzo took up his wooden chair, sounding grateful to be able to sit for a moment. There was silence between them for a while, Eleonora not sure what to say at all. Had he somehow found out about what happened? She bit the tip of her tongue. She was not looking forward to the incoming lecture at all. “Nora.”

“Hm?” Eleonora glanced up at him. “Sorry, Nonno. I guess I’ve just been thinking too much lately, that’s all.”

“I see… Is there something on your mind that you want to talk about?” Eleonora bit the tip of her tongue. Did he know? Did Dante accidentally let something slip? “I understand that you might be worried about finding that Hamon User. It has been a week. …perhaps he isn’t simply in town anymore. That would explain your difficulty locating him.”

Eleonora let out a breath that she didn’t even realize that she had been holding. “Yes. That’s exactly it.” Not a complete lie, but her grandfather didn’t need to know that. And now that she thought about it, she and Dante were unable to locate the boy at all yesterday. …did he really leave? She sighed. “I don’t want to go back alone. I don’t want to make it seem like I failed.”

“You didn’t fail.”

“...Nonno, I’m certain that the definition of ‘failure’ is a lack of success in accomplishing something. That’s what happened.” Lorenzo sighed and Eleonora felt the tip of his crutch poke her side. “Nonno—”

“You don’t fail if you were unable to do something in the first place.” Oh no, if only he knew the truth. He wouldn’t be saying that at all. Eleonora stared down at the water. “It isn’t your fault. Rotten luck.”

Eleonora hummed. It was some rotten luck, alright… She groaned, wondering why the hell did they have to run into each other that morning and why did she have to hit him in the face? She would’ve done it again in a heartbeat given the situation, but still… Why did it have to be him?!

As if sensing his granddaughter’s unease, Lorenzo spoke up again.

“There’s a trip that I need to take to Rome,” he said. Eleonora glanced up at him. “To speak with an associate of mine who has been working with myself and your teacher. Perhaps you would like to come with me?”

Eleonora blinked, trying to process exactly what her grandfather had just told her.

“You want me to come to Rome?” she repeated, hoping that she heard that right. “With you?”

“Yes,” Lorenzo replied simply. “Having you assist me would be a great help. It’s not like I can do much on my own until I meet up with my associate.” He tapped on the crutch resting against his chair to help prove his point.

“I understand, but… Signora Lisa Lisa only allowed me to leave Venice to bring back that boy.” That was the agreement that they made. That was the one that Eleonora was supposed to fulfill.

“She’ll understand.” Eleonora hoped that her grandfather was right about that. “This is a chance for you to get a bit more experience using Hamon out in the real world as well. Experience that you’ll need.” Still… Eleonora bit down on her lip. Disobeying her teacher like this didn’t feel right. Lorenzo took up his crutch and stood, groaning as he did so. “Are you ready to learn what you’re going to be fighting?”

Eleonora’s eyes lit up when she heard those words and all her doubts disappeared. “Yes!” she said a bit too enthusiastically for her own liking.

Lorenzo sighed. “Patience, Eleonora.” Eleonora nodded as she stood, doing her best to keep her excitement under control.

“Sorry, Nonno.” It was hard to behave when she was this excited. Not even Lisa Lisa had told her what they had been fighting against or who they were facing yet. Her grandfather sighed, sending his granddaughter off to fetch her belongings. They were leaving for Rome as soon as possible.

Eleonora could barely hide the smile on her face. Perhaps this trip wasn’t such a waste after all.

The full chapter will be up on Ao3 on August 6th!

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken #jojo au #jjba au #ripple in a legacy au #fic: roundabout #fic preview #jojo oc #jjba oc #oc: eleonora cacciatore #oc: lorenzo cacciatore #things are about to go down #and caesar's finally going to get his name--#if anyone's wondering why this is coming out quicker than my other fics #it's because the first half of roundabout doesn't need to have canon added into it #i mean... it does on some level but i don't need to type anything out #so i'm able to just jump right into writing

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