Dear secret spy notebook

This week my neighbor has been arguing with the lesbians that live across the street from him. i wonder if the story he is writing is going badly. He has been writing less in his journal and more on his typewriter. When he's done typing he rips the page out and takes it across the street and slides it under the front door. Then he goes home and watches from his window behind his curtains. He thinks nobody sees him watching but the lesbians have definitely noticed. They write him replies then sit in their window laughing and giggling (they are too poor to own curtains their apartment is really shabby). Ole Golly thinks I don't know the word lesbians but I overheard mother discussing lesbians with her ladies book club. Being a lesbian doesn't seem too bad. Who would want to marry a smelly boy anyway? And since polite society disapproves of you, you never have to go to any stuffy parties. You might have to live in a shabby apartment, but since I'm planning on being a writer, it looks like that might be what I'm in for anyway, if what daddy says about starving writers is true.

Harriet the Spy

having diseases is like. i haven't slept since i got off the phone with my dad a full uhhhhhh

Daddy Billy or Eddie, you choose whoever you feel fits it better, is busy and places his little gf's food for her but he is working instead of eating and oh how the tables have turned because she aks if he's not going to eat and tells him how eating is important and at first he doesn't pay much attention as he just tells her not to worry and things like "daddy is busy, baby", not even realizing she has been saying the things he usually tells her. She finally gets his attention when he feels his butt being smacked and looks at her just to find his gf with arms crossed and a pout and she tries to sound serious as she repeats a sentence he has already told her a thousand times, something like "it's time to eat, you can play later, no skipping meals in this house"

Its currently 5:45am and I haven't slept...ugh. I hope you enjoy!

masterlist

Make a request here!

WARNING! mentions of littlespace, Billy is called Daddy, not proofread, um...I think that's it!

Daddy needs to eat too!

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All day you've been in your littlespace. It was your day off and you could finally relax and unwind, so what a perfect time to slip into littlespace. The plus side of it all was your Daddy had the day off as well and that made going into headspace a lot more easier. The only issue you were having was he wouldn't stop working on paperwork. It was his day off! Why would he want to work? 

You were in the living room sitting on the floor watching some random cartoon that Billy had put on for you and then disappeared into the small office. He claimed there was a lot of backed up paperwork that needed to be done for the auto shop he worked at. He said something about how Eddie Munson wouldn't be able to finish it, so their boss gave it all to Billy.

You've been alone now for about an hour and you were starting to get hungry. You looked over at the time and saw that it was almost two thirty. You rolled on your back and softly groaned "Daddy!" You called out, no answer. You sat up and tilted your head back "Daddyyyy!!" You whined, still no answer. Your stomach grumbled, so you got up and walked into his office. Opening the door you walked in up behind him "Daddy." You said. Billy hummed in response, at least you got a reaction from him "I called you." You said in a small voice. Billy set his pen down and turned his chair around while rubbing his face "I'm sorry, Doll." He said in a tired voice "What does my Princess need?" He asked with a sweet smile. Seeing his smile made your heart flutter "M'hungry." You said while rocking back and forth on your feet, "Well, what Princess wants, Princess will get." He says while getting up. 

After finally getting Billy out of the little office, you kept him busy in the kitchen since you haven't been able to see him for hours. You say happily on the counter as you watch him maneuver around the kitchen. You didn't want to eat too much since you still had to have dinner, but that Mac n cheese was calling your name. As Billy set your bowl on the counter and had you sit on the bar stool you looked up at him "Thank you, Daddy!" You said happily. He smiled at you and kissed your head "You're welcome." He was about to turn away, but before he could you stopped him "Daddy, you need to eat too." You mumbled. He knew you were right, but he had so much work "I know, Doll. Let me finish this one page and I'll come out and eat with you." 

That was 40 minutes ago. There is no way one page takes 40 minutes. By this time your bowl was empty and put in the sink. You marched over to the small office and opened the door "Daddy you have to eat." You said in a stern voice, "It's very important for you to get your food!" You repeated the words he had said to you at one point. Billy was a little shocked at this and stood up from his seat and walked over to you "Doll, I know." He said while gently grabbing your face and rubbing your cheek with his thumb "I'll come out and eat in a second." He said while turning around to walk back to his chair, but before you could you gave him a little spank on his bottom "No, you're going to eat right now." You said in a more stern and slightly louder voice. Now this really shocked Billy. 

Billy slowly turned around and looked down at you with wide eyes, "Did you just spank me?" He questioned. He didn't sound mad, just stunned. You hesitated for a second "I-I…yes. Yes I did." Billy just stood there and let out a small chuckle. Why is he chuckling? You were expecting him to be at least a little upset. Billy bent down a little and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and started to walk out the room. You started to giggle and kick your feet, "Let's go make some food for Daddy." He said while giving your bottom a little tap.

Feels Like Home

8: 42 hours and 38 minutes

It has been 42 hours and 38 minutes since I left my heart at her doorstep. I’m pretty sure it is my fault.

I haven't slept. Every time I try to close my eyes I see her face. I think about how her eyes sparkle when she laughs, how she is so warm in my arms, and how she always smells so inviting. I can almost feel her arms around me, feel her breath on my cheek. I try not to think of these things, but I can’t escape it.

I remember the first time I saw her on my doorstep drenched from the rain, the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I had the feeling then that all of the world was full of hope and promise and love. I smile at the thought of her in my arms and then remember that I might not get to hold her again, hear her say my name, or kiss her sweet lips.

I have to move. I can't sit still. If I let these feelings take hold of me, I am not sure if I can pull myself out of the sadness, the anger, or the loneliness.

It isn't as though we have been able to spend that much time together. I know that. I know that the idea that our future is with each other seems ridiculous. We have only had two days of real time together, but my soul finds its home with her. If someone asks me to explain it, I don't think I can, but it is what my heart knows. It is not a question in my mind. Her soul and mine are one, intertwined and unable to fully exist without the other.

It isn't as though she is responsible for making my happiness. I know it is up to me to be happy, but I only cared about happiness after I met her. It is true that she is the reason those parts of my heart, the parts that believed in possibility and hope and the idea of one true love, opened up. It is true that she fills those places. It is also true that before I met her on the computer and before she cared enough to ask my name, I had long since stopped believing that these things were possible for me. Without her, I would have never fought for my freedom. There would have been no reason. I don't want love without her. I don't want a life without her. I don't need anyone besides her. I am used to sadness, to loneliness. Years of isolation and loss have allowed me that. Mahri has given my life new meaning, I have developed new feelings that I hadn't explored in a very long time. If I don't have her and I have to go back to the old way of living it will be unbearable. I now know what I would be missing without her by my side.

I begin to pace.

I have to find something to do. I have to get out of this space, out of these thoughts invading my head.

I should eat something. I go to the fridge and open the door. As I do, I am reminded again of our first night together and the dinner we shared by candlelight, of the sweet glances that passed between us, of the hope and love that was in that room.

Damn it! I slammed the door.

Those few days would never be enough for me to survive. I want her with me, by my side, I want our lives together and I think she wants it as much, at least I thought she did. Why can’t the dream of us come true? Why can’t things just work out for me? Just once. Why did I get just a taste of happiness and then have it taken away? What had I done wrong? I hadn't even committed the crimes that I had been punished for.

I check my phone again to see if she responded to my message.

Nothing.

Again.

I’ve only checked my phone 40 or 50 times.

I don’t know if I should text her again. I don’t know if I should show up at her place and beg her forgiveness. I’ve been trying to give her space, but I don’t know if that’s the thing that will bring her back to me. I sent her a text that night, but now I don't know if I should have. If I had more experience in love, maybe I could fix this.

If this was any other person, I could count my losses and walk away, but with her, it is impossible to walk away.

I look at that damn coffee pot sitting on that damn counter by that damn coffee mug she had left in the sink before we went to dinner. I smile despite my anger. That woman is passionate about her coffee. Next time, I will...

DAMN IT. What if there isn't a next time?

I take the coffee pot and throw it across the room. It shatters into a million pieces. I'm not going to lie, it felt good. Breaking something so fragile mimics the breaking of my heart.

I can't allow the anger to take over.

I get a broom and begin to clean up my mess. At least it gives me something to do.

I have been filling my time with running, lots and lots of running. Alan also had some work for me, thankfully. That keeps my brain occupied occasionally. I don't know what I would have done without that. I also joined a boxing club across town so that I can get rid of extra energy.

None of these things can occupy her space in my mind for long, but they usually keep me from doing things like throwing coffee pots or hiding in bed or tracking her phone.

I decide to check on some work projects. The door next to the bedroom is my office. It had been my mom’s bedroom and when I was in there, her spirit calmed me. I can remember the songs that she sang to me and how she would run her fingers through my hair and tell me that the world is a bright and beautiful place where dreams can come true.

“What if it isn't a place where my dreams come true, mom?” I yell into an empty room. “What if I don't get to be happy?”

I wish I had someone to talk to about this. I look up and see a picture that I had placed on my bookshelf when I moved in. It is a picture of a young girl and boy with their arms around each other's shoulders. They are covered in mud. BETTY!! I need to talk to Betty. Though we were friends when we were young we had stayed in touch over the years. We were, in fact, close until I had to run away from everything. I wonder if I lost her as well. I don't think so. She is the only one I trust besides Mahri. She is the one person who knows all of my past and has walked thorough most of it with me.

It didn't take me long to track down her number. If I wasn't so desperate, I would have found a better way to reunite with her, but I miss her and I need someone to help me through this. She will tell me the truth despite it all.

I dialed the number and waited.

"Hello?" A voice answered from the other end of the phone.

"Betty?"

"Yes, I don't really go by that name anymore. Who is this?"

"Jake"

"Jake, as in Jakey Poo? My old friend, the asshole who walked away from his best friend without saying goodbye?

I smile. She always had the mouth of a sailor, but her heart is pure and she is the best friend anyone could ever have.

"I don't really go by that name anymore," I pause and smile, "but I suppose that I was an asshole to not contact you. It wasn't my choice to leave. I would change it if I could."

She paused. No response, but she didn't hang up.

"I am sorry. I miss you. Can we still be friends?”

She sighs. "I miss you too. I'm giving you the chance to explain how you could walk away from me and your reason better be good. It hurt like hell when I couldn't get in touch with you."

She never took any crap from anyone. I loved that about her.

"Listen, if I send you my address, can you meet me here and we can talk, maybe get things back to the way they used to be?"

"Yes," she said, "I think I can meet you and we can try. I will be over soon, like an hour? ...and Jake.... You are going to tell me all about the girl."

"Why do you think it is about a girl?" I respond, trying to be coy.

"Because I know you and I'm never wrong. See you soon."

I smile, hopeful that a dear friend could save me from losing the only thing holding my future.

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Mahri's POV:

It has been 42 hours and 38 minutes since my heart drove away in a sports car and it was my fault that he left.

I hadn't moved from the couch. I had thrown off the beautiful dress that he bought me and I had kicked my shoes in the corner. That is as far as I had gotten across the room in two, almost two, days. I wrapped myself up in a blanket then proceeded to fill the space with my tears.

I did, actually, get up once to shut the curtains. I needed to shut out the light. My heart couldn’t, it still can’t, handle hope or possibility or the idea of a new day bringing me back to him. I had ended it. Tears are still streaming down my face in waves every time my mind wanders to him. Mascara is dripping down my face, my hair is knotted, my eyes are red and puffy. I am a complete mess. It doesn’t matter. Honestly, without him, nothing does.

He is wonderful and in his arms, I am home. I think about dancing in the rain and kissing in the restaurant, listening to his stories and laughing with him. And then I remember how I pushed him away. I had pushed away the best thing to have entered my life. I was scared. I am scared. I don't know how to do life with him, but I can't stand the thought of living without him. The world is dark and cold without him next to me.

We haven't had much time together, yet I know that is where we belong. It is where I belong. I can only see my future together with his. I can only see my happiness with him. It isn't that I am happy because of him, I can be happy without him, I am sure. I can be independent and complete, but I don’t want the happiness that comes apart from him. I don’t want to be without him, but now I have messed it all up. I pushed him away and I don’t know if I can fix this.

On the other hand, I don’t know if I want to fix this. What happens when I mess all of this up? All of my other relationships have ended badly and took a long time to recover from. Those relationships ended because of me, or so I have been told. I don’t want to know the kind of life I can have with Jake if I am just going to lose it. The thought of being with him, sharing our days and our moments together brings a smile to my face and somehow makes my soul feel lighter, but the thought of losing him after all of that love is too much for me to imagine. I don’t know if I could recover. I don't know what to do, I just know I am miserable and I have no one else to blame.

My phone buzzes, interrupting my thoughts.

It is Jessy. I hadn't returned her calls for about a week. If I don’t answer right now, I am sure she will call the cops.

"Hello,” I answer, my voice gruff and raw from all of the crying.

"Oh, thank goodness." Jessy says loudly. "I thought for sure you were dead. Why haven't you answered my calls?"

"I've been busy. " I respond, trying to sound as upbeat as possible.

"What's wrong, Mahri?” Apparently I am not a very good actress.

"Nothing is wron....." I try again but burst into tears.

"I'm coming over. I'll be there in an hour. I'm bringing chocolate. It's going to be ok. We can figure out what is going on and how to fix it."

She ends the call without waiting for me to respond.

At least I have Jessy, my sweet sister-friend. Maybe she can help me work this out. I stand up and head straight to the shower. Maybe there is a way out of this after all.

Doctor's Orders Pt 1

I had been seeing Dr. Sisemor for most of my adult life, in fact she has known me since I was in high school when I first started putting on weight. It's been years since then and I am still toying around with weight gain. Feeding and stuffing myself until I feel like I'm going to tear at the seams, even a few little stretch marks here and there. But I have also tried to keep it within reason. That all changed over the course of a few weeks.

You see, I had recently sprained my ankle in a soccer game when I stepped on the ball and my chubby little butt flew into the air and bounced down, everyone laughing. At first the embarrassment hurt a little, but later I found myself kinda turned on that everyone laughed at me. Anyways, I had to go to the clinic and get it checked out. Dr. Pheobe Sisemor looked as attractive as ever. She always knew how to keep it professional but still make your imagination go wild. And I never could figure out if she ever wore a bra. She had to be pushing 40 years old now but looked at least 10 years younger than that.

"Well, I haven't seen you in awhile." She smiled very friendly almost like she had been expecting me. "Let's take a look at that ankle. But first things first." She pointed me toward the scale and I stepped on, making a sudden loud 'Ka-Chunk' noise. "Looks like someone has been building some muscle mass," she continued smiling and sliding the large weights over, "and maybe more than that." She always liked teasing me whenever I put on a few extra pounds. "165. Let's get a few measurements, so we can get an accurate bmi reading." She pulled out a soft silky tailor's measuring tool and said, "Alright then, off with the shirt. Can't get a good measurement with that on!"

The feeling of the cool silky measuring tape going over the curves of my body tickled but felt so good. I couldn't help but think she was doing it on purpose. "Looks like you're getting a bit chubby. I thought last time you were here we agreed you would try to get in shape again?" We had agreed on that. And I had binged eaten my way two sizes larger since then. Somehow I felt like she knew that and could see right through my excuses.

"You know," she said as she locked the examination room door making sure we were completely alone. "If I had known you wanted to be fat, I wouldn't have wasted all this time giving you advice on how to lose weight." I could feel my face starting to blush. "If I had known you wanted to be a fat pig, then I would have given you these instead." She opened her purse and pulled out a bottle like prescription medicine but there was no label on it. "I don't want to ruin the surprise for you but trust me, if you enjoy putting pounds on, you'll love these."

I examined the bottle, 14 pills. "One a day, see me in two weeks. Oh and stay off that leg for awhile, the ankle needs time to heal." I limped out of the room and just as I walked out the door she gave me one last little pinch on my side as I walked by. It gave me goosebumps, and I turned to see her shoot me a fast wink right before leaving to the next patient.

I went home, took one of the pills and drank a glass of water. The medicine made the water taste really good. That was kind of a cool side effect I thought. I drank another glass, mmmm, and another glass. Finally I decided to pour myself a glass of milk and chugged it down. It was unlike anything I had ever tasted, but I was feeling very tired and decided to lay down for a nap.

I slept for 7 hours, and woke up at nearly midnight! I felt tired still and groggy but my first thought was, "oh no I slept through dinner. I better eat something before I fall back asleep." I opened the fridge and started tasting everything. It didn't matter what I took a bite of, it was so good! I headed back to bed after what felt like only a short while but as I flopped on the bed I saw the clock on the nightstand said 2am. "I must be really tired." I thought to myself, "I can't even keep track of time and my whole body feels lethargic."

I woke up a little after 11am the next day, still tired and very hungry. I walked to the bathroom and stepped on the scale, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes. "196.2." Huh? No way. I stepped off and stepped on again. "196.8." I looked up in the mirror and my face was huge, my arms and hands, the definition was gone and it was all covered in soft smooth squishy fat. What has she done to me? I called Dr. Sisemor's office and stood staring at myself in the mirror while I waited for her to pick up the phone.

"What are these things?" I blurted out as soon as I heard her voice. "Mmmhmm," she laughed "You like that don't you?"

I mean I didn't, not like it. But still what the hell.

"I tried to keep you in shape, but you couldn't help yourself. You're just a fat pig aren't you? You've always wanted to be a fat pig, so I just gave you something to help you along."

I don't know why but the words coming from her mouth were shocking and yet oh so arousing at the same time. I couldn't do anything I just stood there and listening to what she would say next.

"You need to finish up that bottle, like a good pig. 13 days left. Then and only then will I give you something to reverse the effect. I took the liberty of sending over a feeding nurse to help you so you won't have to get out of bed. Just keep those pills nearby and get plenty of rest."

After she hung up the phone I realized my ankle was extremely painful under the weight I had gained from last night. I laid down on the bed and fell asleep, not waking until I heard the doorbell.

I tried to jump up out of bed but I just sat halfway up and fell back against my pillow again. What the hell? I tried again, and fail. So I scooched to the edge of the bed, and painfully limped to the door, greeting a nice young nurse by the name of Celeste. She helped me get back to my bed and said, "Don't worry I'm on doctor's orders to bring you anything you want!"

3/7/24

6:33 p.m

I fell asleep somewhere between 7:40 a.m to 8:40 am. I woke up peeded and couldn't fall back to sleep. I opened my eyes at 9:36 a.m and decided to double up and take Benadryl, hydroxyzine 50mg and allegra D. I was slightly stuffy but I knew I'd pass back out. I fell asleep by like 10:15 a.m

I had to cancel therapy bc I needed my 7 hours.I woke up at 5 p.m.

I actually started smoking weed as of 30 minutes ago. I can't stay asleep. I wake up and toss and turn for 40 minutes and end up having to take a list of antihistamines and double up just to get back to sleep.

I can't get up and pee waking up 5 hours after sleep without not being able to fall asleep. So now I wake up needing to pee and keep my eyes closed until I fall back asleep which is rapid- I'm on my circadian rhythm. I'm up for 16-18 hours a day.. when I take my pill every night..

My doctor won't switch my benzo and I NEVER had an issue falling back to sleep when I smoked weed. Now I have a problem falling asleep, which I always did.

But now I have a problem falling back to sleep. I used to pass out in legit 10 minutes max when I smoked weed and woke up and sued the Bathroom...

I hope it doesn't make shit worse. If it does I'll stop- If I don't notice my sleep habits go back to what they were, I'll stop.

I just can't fucking handle it anymore. I won't do edibles or anything but vaping a little throughout the day and especially before bed should help with insomnia. I really wanted to attend my appointment today, I needed the appt bc I only had one where we discussed countertransference and how she cant see me anymore. Erin canceled Monday, Tuesday was not therapy it was clearing the air before termination..

but 7 hours is fucking critical and it was 10:15 -10:20 a.m by the time I likely passed out.

Beyond that when I would wake up and pee before I would take a hit and pass back out. Also-I slept better, longer. Fell sleep semi quickly- I def had insomnia but I took Benadryl with weed and was able to achieve sleep by 20-30 minutes or closing my eyes.

I stayed asleep and fell back to sleep instantly from November 3rd, 2023 to November 22nd, 2023 when I was smoking. And I passed out in 30 minutes when intially falling to sleep.

Then I stopped weed and it turned into 7 hours with my eyes closed following November 22nd- December 26th 2023...

Then I started Xanax and I could fall asleep within 1 hour of taking it to 2 hours (max effectiveness). But I would close my eyes when I felt tired... and was fighting them. Xanax saved me from terrible insomnia ans continues to....

But why can't I fall back to sleep when I get up and pee and close my eyes for approximately 5 minutes max after getting up when it was never a problem before? For one there are better sleep benozs out there that my doctor won't persxibe... and for Two idk.. Maybe I need fucking weed.

I'm going to judge if it gets worse based on a couple things. I've been sober since 11/22/23... and yea it's gotten a lot better but at the same time- time can be the reason...

This is how I'm going to judge if it gets worse:

1) if it gets intelligent- it hasn't been for months. If it doesn't repeat what I'm saying it's a happy birthday, successful and deadname auto bot skipping record.

2) if it gets creative. There are no stories and there haven't been since November...

3) if it gets louder- which I don't expect....

4) if it gets more frequent.. this is the hardest one to judge... as it is almost 24/7 but I get some moments of quiet. But I mean like 35 seconds in a silent room. Nothing significant...

After taking like 5 or 6 hits- I don't really feel high strangely enough. I feel balanced. I feel like my brain is like omg thank you.

Idk if my D2 receptors will get worse or if they'll remain uneffected by low level thc vaping... 75% for the full vape... all i know is taking edibles is a lot worse...

I'm judging my insomnia over the next few days.

1) do I fall asleep faster?

2) do I stay asleep solidly through the night?

3) I'm going to get up and pee and see if I can fall asleep from a few hits like I used to instead of laying there with my bladder full.

I guess we will see how it works. I started it early bc I know I'm going to have anxiety about making my auditory hallucination worse. I can't just try it for the first time 5 months at 7 a.m when I close my eyes.

Let's see what happens-wish me luck. As much as thc can worsen psychotic symptoms. Thc is directly related to curing insomnia.. sleeping regularly is directly related to recovering from psychosis. You can actually get sleep deprivation psychosis...

Beyond that: before I was smoking weed prior to psychosis and during, I could stay asleep for like 7-10 hours every single fucking night...no joke...

Now I get approximately 7 if I ignore my bladder.

The only difference is- I couldn't sleep on weed October 10th to November 3rd... I microslept but the voice was so fucking loud I couldn't sleep through it and i was so scared by what it was saying. I also was doing hynopgogic... causing more hallucinations bc I refused to pee. I refused to open my eyes and I would lay around with my eyes closed for hours every single day all day long trying to sleep. I wasn't promoting good sleep habits. I should have stayed up did my normal activities and only Closed my eyes at the 16 to 17 hour mark on my circadian rhythm. I should have opened my eyes every 20 minutes and peeded when I needed to. Maybe I wouldn't have microslept. I can't go back in time.

So hopefully this works out. I'm scared but it's not my fault my doctor won't give me a benzo for insomnia. I'm meeting with her Tuesday and I'm going to talk to her face to face and lie and say I recovered from psychosis. I'm going to say I've tried to sleep without Xanax but I can't. Cause then it's no longer a mental health issue. I don't think she will switch it despite my black hairy tongue side effect that won't recover bc I don't want the lowest dose. I want one dose up bc I take 1 mg of xanax a night... the sleep dose is .5 and she wasn't willing to match it. Maybe if she hears I recovered from psychosis I still have insomnia bur Xanax works but my tongue is still inflamed and I knows it's from Xanax but I would rather stay on Xanax if you won't give me a comparable dose or estrazolam or one of the better sleep benzos. We will see what happens. I don't have high hopes... that's all I'm saying..

Not to mention with Ptsd you can hear voices... yet PTSD is a diagnosis that qualifies for medical marijuana. I may have psychosis but that doesn't mean it'll make the voice worse.

I'll keep a close track of how my body reacts to thc with the hallucination and how it reacts to sleep with thc being reintroduced.

16. he speaks nore stilted and formal with people when he's not super comfortable with them

17. he gave you some of his clothes to wear

18. he keeps getting mad at anons for telling him things you didn't tell him, but doesn't get nearly as pissed when it's anyone else

19. proposed the deal of "you take care of yourself and i'll take care of myself" to make you at least hesitate before being self-destructive

20. he has said he prefers the danger that comes with you over the danger he faces without you because at least he has you

21. quote from earlier on "would I spend this much time arguing with you if I didn’t care about your existence?"

22. "i don't sacrifice myself for just anyone"

23. was prepared to take the long way into sumeru to find you when you were asleep those two weeks

24. immediately dropped whatever he was doing to prepare for you when you said you were coming to visit

25. has he done any actual work since you've been here? or has he prioritized you over earning money? this is a rhetorical question

26. was working on the sleeves even though he didn't know if you were even coming back or alive at all

27. speaking of the sleeves: dedicated a large portion of his time to making something for you that is entirely for your comfort, tailored to your needs specifically, and has asked for no payment

28. smiles when he sees you (is not known for smiling often, if ever)

29. repeatedly has vocalized his desire for you to be alive and in his life

30. actively seeks out contact with you when the opportunity presents itself

31. always asking how he can help you or if you need something from him

32. insists on cooking for you when he can (again significant bc the food thing)

33. accommodates when you're not verbal

34. wanted to go into the city w you despite not liking the people in the area he brought you to

35. he has, on several occasions, either thought or acted on feeling safe with you—important, because he also almost never feels safe outside of his own home, if you recall

36. is constantly brainstorming ways to help you in the future, like if you ever hypothetically lose an arm

37. just everything involved with repairing your hand bro. and not once did he belittle you for any of it!

38. makes sure you eat food and rest (can't believe i haven't said that one yet)

39. has said out loud he likes lying down with you

40. constantly wishing he could protect you from everything that hurts you

there, i think that's all of it, but also it's 2am and i haven't slept in almost 24 hours so excuse me if i missed anything 👍

This is true stalker behaviour.

[ He says this to deflect the fact that his face is tinted pink. ]

My day sucked and I'm going to bitch about it.

Context: I am a program director and I oversee multiple group homes that serve IDD and TBI residents. I started my day by not realizing it snowed over the weekend and I wasn't wearing gloves (or a jacket or a hat) while chipping iced over snow off the car. I get to work, walk inside, notice something was *off* with one of my residents. I throw my stuff downstairs in my office and head back upstairs to chat with staff and to take a better look. One of my residents had their entire right side drooping and not able to prop himself up in his chair, a bleed in his eye, he seemed extra lethargic, was having more memory issues than normal, and slurring his words. I told staff to call EMS because those are signs of a fucking stroke. I ask the staff when it started (thinking it was today) and they tell me they noticed it Friday night and had waited until today to email the doctor to ask for advice. At no point did they ever think to call the on-call nurse or me or anyone. They opted to wait until today to *email* someone. I wasn't on site at that house last week because there was a nasty storm, I had some doctors appointments, and I was at the other houses I oversee. But like? My phone is always on. They could have called. After he's picked up by EMS, I go back downstairs to do my job and by this point it's almost 1pm and I see I have an email from my director asking to make sure I have my table and chairs set up in my office for our meeting on Wednesday.

Reader, they were still in the box and haven't been assembled. I was supposed to have a training tomorrow so I was rushing to get things put together. I assembled a bookcase, table, and got almost done with one of the two chairs before realizing I fucked it up and had to disassemble it. I finally check my email and see that m thing for tomorrow got cancelled and about die. At this point I'm both emotionally tired and physically tired and the tism is taking over. The first time I ate today was at 2pm when a staff member came downstairs and asked if I wanted something to eat. So I had one single pb&j. I finally leave home and I'm about to get into my car and the yarn store called me to let me know that the yarn I need to write a pattern for came in, which meant I have to start that because I only have three weeks. I get in the car, call my mom to let her hyperfixate and talk at me for the drive home. I get inside and as I'm putting my fucking bag away, I knock into the box of two bottles of fabric softener and it lands on the top of my toe, brusing the shit outta of it. I go to crash in the bedroom to have my partner kick me out because he slept like shit and had to work in a few hours. At this point I can't feel anything but pain in my shoulders and neck. I finally settle into my office doing some behind the scenes stuff for my stream and realize I should probably eat, except now I'm dizzy and only have spoons for ramen. I then go and play DnD and we have a total party kill. And the icing on all of this? The drink I ordered from Taco Bell apparently has red 40 in it and now I'm having stomach issues. Lovely

Man it’s not even 11 AM and it’s already been a day of saying things I think are relatable that actually aren’t

the high and crash you get from amphetamines is just a bipolar disorder free trial

one of the weird things about looking through the bo burnham tag pre inside release and post inside release is so funny because you see the general narrative of his audience switch from "bo funny" to "bo sad and suicidal" with zero bumper in between. like he was joking when he said "come and watch the skinny kid and his steadily declining mental health as he tries to give you what he cannot give himself" wasn't a cry for help but just another funny lyric to laugh at.

it took a year of mental degradation and a funny rhyme against the failures of white feminism and a ingmar bergmen style shot of some jesus lookin dude watching his 16 year old self play piano on a projector for the audience to go "hey maybe we ACTUALLY don't know this man person beyond what little hints we are given in content specifically curated for our tastes as an audience" and as a creator it fucking hurts that in order to really be vulnerable i have to sit in my house for a year and a half with no showering and a keyboard in order for my struggles to be seen as valid and not worth laughing at.

like don't get me wrong i used to imagine animatics with whatever 12 year old me had a hyper fixation on to the tune of left brain right brain and yeah i had that weird middle school yaoi phase on wattpad where every other chapter was lyrics from "my whole family thinks i'm gay" but it is really disgusting to see me, a dumb child do that and move past it while grown adults still stop and do that with no concept that bobby hill burntham is a human fucking being.

all i am is a stupid monkey in a toy cage waiting to be given validation and the cognitive dissonance in the people that find it funny and exploitable disgust me. bo reinvented internet comedy then deconstructed it several times and we still have to explain that just because he is funny does not mean he is a wind up toy who can tell jokes at whim.

anyways when i was in the 6th grade i wanted to play oboe so i could do the oboe part in "oh bo" this isn't important to the rest of the post but i heard it today in the car and started crying because i am in high school and dropped out of band because i used to have panic attacks in the band room and now i wish i could go back to when that was the most important thing in my life and not the whole suicidal ideation thing

I'm having. ideas. I am thinking.

me: I'm not gonna stay up all night

me: *sits up half the night imagining myself serenade G.odot w Destiny from SU*

Trenches, Epilogue

From Charlie’s POV (because that’s my thing now, apparently)

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @latenightcupsofcoffee @ashintheairlikesnow @tears-and-lilies @utopian819

CW: none

-

The airport, to put it lightly, was not my favorite place to be. Especially alone. I'd somehow always convinced myself that I was at the wrong gate. Or that I might've accidentally packed a bomb. It was the epitome of "I need an adult".

I was flying back to the states for the first time in almost three years. I had to go sort some legal shit out before I could obtain my UK citizenship. My flight was delayed by two hours because of some crazy storm in New York. I checked to make sure I was at the right gate about seven billion times, despite the delay. Basil was blowing up my phone with TikToks, and I honestly couldn't complain. Some entertainment was much needed. He had managed to keep me occupied until my flight began boarding.

It was my first time flying First Class. I quickly decided that it would not be my last. The pilot had the usual spiel, and we were soon taxiing to the runway. Taking off was my least favorite part of the whole flying experience. I mindlessly fidgeted with my wedding band to cope with the anxiety. Once we were safely off the ground, I was fine. The ability to sleep without my face pressed into the wall of the plane was a godsend. I slept for most of the flight. I'll be damned if it wasn't the best rest I'd ever gotten.

We landed in New York. After customs, I had about twenty minutes to catch my connecting flight. I changed my mind. This was the worst part of flying. I checked the gate forty times. Unfortunately, I'd forgotten to select First Class for this flight. There was, at least, a seat in between me and an old woman. She started talking to me before boarding had even finished.

Holy shit, please don't talk to me the entire flight. Please.

Carol, as she introduced herself, noticed my nervous tic with my ring and decided to make small talk about it.

"Are you married?"

No. I wear this for fun.

"Yeah, I am."

"Do you have kids?"

Why are you asking me this.

"Nope."

"Do you want kids?"

WHY DO YOU CARE.

"Maybe."

"What about your wife?"

Oh god.

"Husband, actually. I haven't asked him."

"Oh, my granddaughter is gay. I love the gays."

For once, I wished someone was homophobic. I mumbled something along the lines of "that's nice", and she stopped talking for a bit. Maybe she was catching on that I wasn't feeling very chatty.

"What's your husband's name?"

Oh my god kill me now.

The pilot began speaking, and I considered him my lord and savior in that moment. Even though you'd could hardly understand him, I acted like I was paying very close attention. Finally, we were headed for take off, and that meant I could soon take out my phone. More importantly, my headphones. They would be the only thing that would get me through the next three hours. Halfway through the flight, I glanced over, and I noticed Carol looking through the SkyMall magazine. I began to feel bad. She was obviously bored.

"Have you every bought anything from one of those?" I asked.

"No, I haven't. Are you going to Seattle, too?"

What? Are we not on the same flight?

"Yeah."

"Do you live there?"

"No, I live in England now, actually. I lived in Seattle for a long time growing up, though."

"Is your husband British?"

"Yeah."

It was back and forth like that for the rest of the flight. When she asked about how we met, I simply said “work”. We exchanged goodbyes at the baggage claim. I made a mental note to make sure I upgraded to first class for the returning flight. Thankfully, my Uber driver didn't talk at all, so I gave him a $40 tip. It was strange feeling, entering my childhood home again. My mom had left it to me in the will. I couldn't part with it, even if I wasn't living there anymore.

I finally settled in for the night after texting everyone that I had made it safely. Basil was the only one to reply. He responded with a paper clip emoji, whatever the hell that meant.

Things I Like RP Partners to Know

I like to be called: Captain, Kuro, Zach, Degenerate, w/e. I'm typically not nerved by really anything, mostly chill. (Went in-depth and tagged below cut)

One thing you should know about me: I really just write for passion anymore, I don't care about this whole Post+ stuff, it won't play a factor in me. Tumblr has really everything that allows me to write and further myself. However, it ever goes away, even if becomes Myspace 2.0, I'll probably still maintain writing here off and on in spurts. --Now if they shut-down, I might convert over somewhere that's identical, cause Twitter couldn't handle my girth. I'm mildly autistic and suffer from a few other conflicting health aliments, writing is my obsessiveness and remedy. Used to be gaming, but I became less of a gamer, and replaced it more for writing cause It's a place where I can contain and throw all my thought's to usage. My mind overlaps with so much thing's at once, I get side-tracked, misplacement, my concentration shifts horribly, before I know it, I haven't slept for twenty-four hours or more. Lot of stuff is just me being redundant by fault. Or I become overwhelmed with a story ideas, that impulsively takes me, but majority of my best thing's are sudden. Not the one's that are ever planned. But I don't live to make excuses never care to be defined, by one thing, or person. I don't aim to attain much of anything in life but be a better me, until my end. And by analyzing your mind, you can do or achieve a lot I've discovered. So I repetitively no matter what jog down my WIP's and unleash, or my errors, I put them all on badges displays, then I go back and repeat until I show progress. That's how I have to learn. But passion is a candle, so when it burn's out I lose a lot of what I learned, it's natural after that to be discouraged, but instead, for me, that gets me going again. Cause mean's I can come at thing's with a whole new mental perspective and different flow, then compare, and again, adapt and improve. One thing you should know about RPing with my character(s): Everything is a factor and story with me. Losses, they matter. My character originally was highly killable almost every session, but advanced due to the actions of others, because of them, he found the value of his own life, and that's how I like to do my characters. Even the win's my character gets from stories, will most likely have a 'bad ending' occasionally or result into something new sprouting from it eventually, however that doesn't define at-all how permanently it effects them. But seasonally they go through their struggle. Life for real, is up and down's, these are the component's I factor in. Realistically, sure we fall. We never truly decline unless we allow it. Our character's philosophies, their mental judgement, dislikes, etc, all these thing's become ingrained they decide how much they want too fight and live, they step to improve or sometimes stumble under roadblocks, but not truly devolve. So the more people he interacts with or meets and encounters in RP, they are factors, they're meaningful to meet again, or live, their short teachings are insightful. No matter how small or large or incomplete stories went or passed-by. I created a character who was filled in by others initially. Even one-shot smuts, they're important experiences. Lot more to appreciate when your character learns on their own how to surpass their weaknesses and suffering organically. Still do RP with others but typically I do collaborations, or pre-established or short things, or Discord, one-shot in-game stuff, screenshot things that can convey RP. Want to build this Crew as their own functioning characters, not so much minor throwaways, but shippable, and highly in-depth. Essentially building an optional anime for my partner's, one-day. Long-term with me right now just isn't something I'd ever ask or expect from me. I'm too jumbled and a mess. But it's not a never, I do have two people who are among all my stuff and involved. I'd include anyone in my stories too if they wanted partaken. First language: Gibberish / English. Age range: under 13  |  14–17 | 18–22 | 23–25 | 26–29 | 30+ | 40+ | 70+ Am I okay with NSFW?: yes |

no | some nsfw I came solely off that, my reputation, was known as 'That ERP guy' on Balmung OG day's, I'm one of the degen's from that era. But character's evolve and adapt as do their people, they become more, but maintain their origins to degree. Those perspective's and things learned from NSFW are very paramount to a lot of SFW too. My favorite/most common thing to RP is: angst | fluff | smut | crack | action | plots | AUs are fine | Violence | Darker themes |  I dunno. * I'm pretty open-ended in all things. It's all fascinating for me to attempt at improving. Reason finally pulled the trigger and made a diverse Crew for Captain was give off different interactions and also more reason's to write beyond my usual trends. I'll tackle eventually every genre... now doesn't mean I'll excel in those fields more than my specialties, but I'll do it. Canon Character RP Friendly?: yes | no | depends * I stick with the sandbox but I'll stretch out all the space and limits of it. Building skyscrapers and UFO's with that sand, just happens that this Universe has magic, science, alchemy, holograms, all-around unlimited absurd possibilities, more than even D&D, which makes this game the best to RP within. When comes to interacting with anything Canon base, It'll always dwarf me though. Most likely I'll write my own legit WoL's, thinking of making an 'antagonist' one, but more 'protagonist too' (maybe hunk viera male?) I like making construed lines between characters, that's really complex, it's avidly up to a reader to decide who's in the right or wrong or if they're rooting for the villain or good-guy. I see most lore characters as Celebrities which my character would be rightfully cultured in, and they're untouchable, least for my characters. To me the source of what, who, or with you're writing is what determines a lot. But yeah RPing with anything Canon related, I switch to being a just minor gnat. And there's going to be a lot of consequences, that come if there's anything that does effect something that matters in the Universe. Just cause my pirate is causing havoc and having fun for now, doesn't mean law's don't catch-up or something else doesn't. Cause and effect always. RP blog: does contain ooc posts | doesn’t contain ooc posts | occasionally contains ooc* I would do more OOC if did asks, or inbox related things and was wanted, but outside occasional updates, I stick to my role. That's just write stories and screenshots and practice everything. I'm thankful for anyone who does enjoy anything I share or supports me, It's what brings me back faster and I do always think of you too when I want to get better, it's uplifting and inspiring, alongside boosting. If I do bring any motivation to anything, I do. Then that's the best payment I could get. I like seeing others thrive, or soar higher than me, and unleash their creativity. Tagged by:@spotofmummery (Thank ye my treasured friend!) Tagging anyone/everyone: @roguestly @scholarlybreadbun @under-the-blood-moonlight @lettersnorth @violet-warder @lukawarrioroflight @eligos-venator @corpse-dancer @silvernsteel @silvertail-ffxiv @roxinova @lavender-hemlock @fracturedfantasia @zhauric @fair-fae @avwalya @yuki-yukichan @crow-iv @cadrenebula @spellsandtales @casualcatte @seascrapes @mishivymendi @thorcat @aqueerfishtheyis @ljoturyalre @seabound-dragoon @scornedjustice @laylahcousland @layla-grey @moonstruck-ffxiv @snow-covered-moon (Apologies if missed anyone. If there's more who'd like to be tagged again on all these type of things, let me know.)

I'll Be There, Doll

Pairing: 40's! Bucky Barnes × 40's! Male! Reader

AU: None

Warnings: homophobia, reader being beaten up, hospital, problems with sleep and eating

Summary: Your boyfriend is doing his best to help you with trauma after one, unfortunate evening.

It was Monday evening when everything happened. You were on your way home when some two guys pushed you into a dark alley and begun to punch and kick you while yelling a lot of hurting things. It didn't took much for you to pass out. You woke up a few hours later in the hospital.

The first thing that you noticed was the fact that sun was about to rise. Then you noticed your arm. It was in plaster, so it meant it was broken. You only signed at it.

You started thinking about the things these men called you. You quickly connected the dots in your head. They hurt for being gay.

You weren't afraid of the fact that they could kill for that, no. You were afraid about your boyfriend, James Buchanan Barnes, known also as Sergeant Barnes. You never wanted him to lose everything he worked for. You wouldn't be able to forgive yourself if anything like that would happen. You felt yourself start to have some kind of panic attack when thinking about it, but you decided to ignore it. Everything will be fine, right?

After around 30 minutes, Bucky finally found your room. He stormed in and when he saw you, he felt like his heart stopped for a second. He closed the door and walked to the bed to lovingly touch your face. "Doll..." It was the thing he was able to say when your eyes locked with his. Your black eye, broken arm and a few bandages on your head, making him feel like he is going to fall apart.

"Hey Buck." You greeted him with a weak smile that made him melt inside. Bucky took a chair and sat the next to the bed.

"Who did this to you?" He asked quietly as he took your hand, trying to give you some support. You were silent. "Please, (Y/N). Don't kill me with that silence." His thumb gently brushed your fingers.

"I don't remember who these guys was, it was too dark for me to see, I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry, it's not your fault." He shook his head, faking smile just to make you feel like everything was fine. "Do you remember anything, love?" His smile quickly faded away.

"They called me 'things' and I guess they might know that I'm gay." You nervously played with your fingers and looked away. "I don't think we're safe anymore."

"Until I'm here, I will make sure that you will be safe." He said it so confidently, that you couldn't help the giggles. He cupped your cheek and made you look at him. "You know that you're safe with me, right?"

"I know, but you're not safe." Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion. "If society will find out that you're gay, you're going to lose everything. I can't let that happen, James." He knew that you were serious. You always used his name when you were serious.

He couldn't think of anything other than kissing your forehead to calm your nerves down. "Don't think about it now." He murmured into your forehead, which caused you to chuckle. "There is my boy." He pulled away and cupped your cheeks.

Two days later, you finally were able to go to your house. Before that one very important happened. Men from Monday came to the hospital to end what they started. Luckily Bucky was there with you. One of the nurses called the cops so you finally were able to feel safe.

When you where in your house, some things changed. Your sleeping routine got worse. You got problems with sleeping before, but now you were afraid that if you will fall asleep, someone will come and hurt you. You started eating less food that usual. You simply felt miserable. Bucky and Steve noticed that, but didn't wanted to mention that yet.

Boys accompany you to your house, because you asked them to. They understood your fears and they had no problem with it. When you were about the enter the house, without hesitation you called Bucky's name. "Yes, doll?" He turned to you, waiting patiently for the thing you wanted to told him.

"Will you come over later for the night?" You asked while tapping with your fingers at the wooden door.

"No problem. Will come at 7, is that fine?" He answered it with enthusiasm, he didn't sleep at your house a lot lately and he was happy about spending some time with you.

"Yeah, thanks. See ya." You waved to Buck's and Steve's direction before entering your house and closing the door behind you. You sighed happily thinking about that you will not be afraid to sleep or do anything else alone.

"You're going talk with him about eating and stuff like that, right?" Steve asked worried about your health as he was walking with Bucky.

"Of course. What kind of boyfriend I would be if I wouldn't do that." He shook his head. He knew that conversation about that topic might not be easy.

"Good, I hope he will be fine." Steve wasn't trying to hide how upset his was.

"Oh come on. He will be, I'll take care of him." Bucku patted Steve's back, giving him comfort. "It might take some time, but (Y/N) will be alright."

"Glad that you came." You cheered as Bucky went to your house. He had a bag with him. "Why did you brought a bag?" You raised an eyebrow, clearly being interested what's inside.

"Some clothes. I know that you like my uniform," He winked at you as both of you went to the living room. "but wearing something more comfortable will be just fine for night like that." He added as he begun to take out clothes from the bag. "You want to the change here or--"

"Go to the bathroom, Buck." You laughed as he went to the kitchen. "Is spaghetti okay with you?"

"Of course, because you made it." A few minutes went and Bucky was in the kitchen. You were waiting for him, sitting next to the table with the spaghetti that you made earlier. Bucky noticed that you didn't got you're as much food as he got. He decided to stay silent about it, you looked so happy and he didn't wanted you to look upset. "Smells delicious." He complemented as he sat down and begun to eat.

"Thanks. It was a little bit harder to do it with this arm, but I did it." Bucky smirked at your enthusiasm. He didn't said anything, but he was proud of you. And you knew that, his smirk told you.

You had a small conversation during dinner. Then you decided to watch something. You ended in the bedroom cuddling and listening to the rain that started almost a hour ago. You were laying on him.

"(Y/N)," Bucky begun as he played with your hair. You made a simple "hmm" sound as the answer. "What's with you and eating?" You tensed up when he mentioned it. He felt it. "You are eating less than usually did. What is doing on doll?"

You refused to move in anyway, to avoid looking into his blue eyes. "Nothing, I'm eating like I always did." You felt Bucky shift after your answer.

"Don't lie to me. I know you for too long." He purred out a little bit annoyed. "Is this because of that situation?" He looked at you. You weren't able to find enough confidence to look into his eyes.

"I'm alright. Don't worry about me." You whispered, knowing that it's a lie. You weren't okay at all. "Please, I don't want to talk about it." Your voice broke. Bucky knew what it meant. You were about to cry. That topic was sensitive for you.

"(Y/N), it's okay." He said as he kissed your head. "I'm worried about you. I need you to be fine again." You pressed your face into Bucky's chest to calm down. "Shh... Little boy. I think you should go to sleep." You shook your head.

"No, I don't need sleep." You choke out as you looked at him. You had a dark circles under your eyes. You haven't sleep without waking up and stress for a week now. "It's only 10 PM, I don't--"

"You are afraid, aren't you?" He asked quietly. He knew the answer, but he wanted to hear you saying that. He couldn't wait for you saying what is going on. He knew you won't say anything with a small push. "You are afraid that someone is going to hurt you while you're sleeping? Is that why you wanted me stay?" You only brought yourself to nod. "Why haven't you told me about it?"

"It's embarrassing."

"It's not, doll. You need sleep. I don't have to go anywhere tomorrow so I can stay awake if you want that." Bucky sat up, so he could take a better look at you. "Go change and I--"

"You need sleep too." You protested as quickly as you got from bed. "If you really want me to sleep, just stay close to me." Bucky smiled and nodded. You got yourself a pyjama and changed in bathroom, Bucky did the same things after you.

You were laying in the bed, your head was on his chest while the arm that was in plastron, was on his stomach. Buck's hand was gently brushing your back to make you feel safe. You fall asleep quickly, because of the fact that Bucky was with and you were extremely tired and you needed sleep more than anything in the moment.

Night was pretty for both of you. You finally slept well and Bucky was happy about that fact. Of course, you were moving a little while speeding, which was making Bucky a little awake, but it wasn't a big problem for him.

You woke up a hours later than Bucky did. When you woke up, you immediately started looking for him around the room. "Bucky?!" You called afraid that something happened to him.

"I'm in the kitchen!" He answered after he heard your terrified voice. "Good that you woke up! Breakfast is almost ready!" He yelled in cheerful tone. You sighed as you got of bed. He was fine and you could stop panicking for a second. You went to the kitchen to see Bucky making pancakes wearing only boxers. You couldn't help the chuckle, you had a perfect view for such a great looking ass.

"I know, I know. I have nice ass, no need to tell me." He smirked.

"Then no complements for ya." You joked as you sat down, waiting for food.

"How do you feel?" Bucky turned to look at you. You seemed to be happy, more than any other day from the time you got back from hospital.

"Good, how's the story with you?"

"It's fine." He answered. "You remember that I have a day off, do you?" You nodded. "Great, because my today's plan is spend my entire day with you."