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conceptsnest · 4 years

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MENTAL/ BRAIN BANDWIDTH

Everything we do (thinking and doing) occupies some bandwidth. Some things occupy a little and others a lot. Examples of things that occupy a little, for most people, are walking, drumming your fingers, or tapping your foot, and things that we are expert at because we have done them often. Examples of things that occupy a lot are talking, listening to information, doing anything we have to concentrate hard on, doing things that we are not expert in because we have not done them before.

Driving a car is a good way to envisage this. When we were learning to drive, we had to concentrate extremely hard. We would not have been able to hold a conversation while driving. Almost all our attention was involved in trying to drive. Now that we are an expert, we do not usually have to use so much of your attention. Of course, we still must use a fair amount, but we could also have a conversation while driving. But then, every now and then while you’re driving along, something happens that means you have to focus more: the traffic increases, you come to a part of the journey where you have to look out for a turning, roadworks happen, the weather becomes difficult. Then you will find that you tend to stop conversation; you might turn the radio off; you have instinctively realised that you need more brain bandwidth for the driving.

A few more interesting examples:

1) If someone is walking at their own pace while being asked simple but increasingly difficult mental arithmetic questions, or questions that need concentration, they will begin to walk more slowly as it become harder. Eventually, they usually stop.

2) When someone is working while listening to music, they will almost always voluntarily turn it down or off when they come to something, they need lots of concentration for.

3) Air force pilots practise managing disasters repeatedly because the least amount of bandwidth should be used, freeing the rest for reacting to the unexpected. Such unexpected takes a lot of bandwidth, so as many as possible scenarios must become “expected” or at least practised and automatic.

What is Mental Bandwidth (or Cognitive Bandwidth)?

Bandwidth is what allows us to reason, to focus, to learn new ideas, to make creative leaps and to resist our immediate impulses. Bandwidth refers to our cognitive capacity and our ability to pay attention, make good decisions, stick with our plans, and resist temptations. Cognitive bandwidth is the maximum amount of thinking that is available per unit of time. It can be simplified a step further. We use the term ‘bandwidth’ to refer to two broad, related components of mental function:

1) Cognitive capacity: the psychological mechanisms that underlie our ability to solve problems, retain information, engage in logical reasoning, the ability to think and reason abstractly and solve problems.

2) Executive control: our ability to manage our cognitive activities, including planning, attention, and initiating and inhibiting actions.

Time Scarcity Vs Mental Bandwidth

Scarcity creates a powerful goal that inhibits other considerations. By constantly drawing us back to that urgent unmet goal, scarcity taxes our bandwidth and our most fundamental capacities. Busy people all make the same mistake: they assume they are short on time, which of course they are. But time is not their only scarce resource. They are also short on bandwidth. For instance, although the room seems quiet, it is full of disruptions—ones that come from within. Such internal disruptions stem from scarcity. An unrealized need can capture our attention and impede our ability to focus on other things.

The impacts of scarcity on mental bandwidth can be a vicious cycle. Feelings of scarcity, whether money or time, prey on the mind, thereby impairing decision-making. When you are busy, you are more likely to make poor time-management choices – taking on commitments you cannot handle, or prioritising trifling tasks over crucial ones. A vicious spiral kicks in, your feelings of busyness leave you even busier than before.

This scarcity mindset consumes ‘mental bandwidth’ — brainpower that would otherwise go to less pressing concerns, planning ahead and problem-solving. This deprivation can lead to a life absorbed by preoccupations that impose ongoing cognitive deficits and reinforce self-defeating actions. When you focus heavily on one thing, there is just less mind to devote to other things. We call it tunnelling — as you devote more and more to dealing with scarcity you have less and less for other things in your life.

A Cognitive Bandwidth Formula

A simple but different approach to cognitive bandwidth can be demonstrated by a formula that we can all use to find mental balance:

(Cognitive Throughput + Cognitive Overhead) ≤ Cognitive Bandwidth

1) Throughput: The actual amount of thinking done per unit of time…the throughput depends on the complexity of the stuff we are working on.

2) Overhead: Overhead is the cost of doing stuff where we must care about organization, task switching, etc, and is paid against the bandwidth limit.

3) Bandwidth: The bandwidth is fixed at some level which we can barely change.

The idea is to try and always make sure your throughput and overhead do not exceed your perceived total bandwidth. If you know your overhead is going to be high one day, try to plan for a reduced throughput (and vice versa).

Why is this brain bandwidth theory so relevant to wellbeing, stress and performance?

1) Stress and preoccupation. Three main disadvantages (among others) are:

a) That you can have too much adrenalin and have a sense of panic instead of simple alertness.

b) Cortisol has a habit of building up and over time causing problems with sleep, mental health, focus, mood, performance, and physical illnesses.

c) Preoccupation. This describes the fact that if our brain bandwidth is occupied, then we have less available to focus on the task in hand.

2) Things that occupy a lot of bandwidth:

a) Worries, anxieties, intrusive negative thoughts – if we are worried about something or someone, it’s hard to focus on our work; we’ll make more mistakes; and we’ll be snappier.

b) Processing information or tasks – such as things we are trying to learn, understand or remember

c) Anything new and unfamiliar

d) Other people being around us – they could be distracting us or making us feel unrelaxed; other people are hard to ignore

e) Working on screens – because when we are using a screen there is almost always competing information on the screen, adverts and icons and notifications designed to attract our attention away from what we are doing.

3) The consequences of that:

a) Exhaustion.

b) Mistakes and forgetfulness – the times when we have “a lot on our mind” are the times when we make mistakes.

c) Loss of executive control –the times when you snap, say and do things you don’t mean.

d) Loss of cognitive ability – it is harder to learn new things if we can’t devote our full attention.

Tips for managing your mental bandwidth

A) Ignore the Generic Methods and Experiment

There are several conflicting philosophies. For instance, a penny saved might be a penny earned, yet we're also told not to be penny smart and pound foolish. The same holds true with advice for mental bandwidth, where one source might encourage multitasking, while another demand absolute singularity of focus. Rather than trying to adapt your working style to someone else's, experiment with different techniques and keep those that are functional for you, while casting aside those that do not.

B) Actively manage your mental bandwidth

Perhaps the biggest mistake many people make is allowing their mental bandwidth to be managed for them. The beeping phone, meeting request, or act performed for ritual or obligation all rob our limited mental bandwidth, and many perform these actions unquestioningly. If you allocate your focus as you see fit, and actively choose what you want to focus on, you'll be in command of your mental bandwidth.

C) Do a bandwidth cost/benefit

Most of us are awash in meeting requests and accept without question. Everyone complains about excessive meetings, yet it's often a guilty pleasure to summon a group at your whim, or join a discussion under the assumption that your input is necessary and valuable. Simply asking yourself whether requesting or attending is worth the cost in mental bandwidth is a great start.

D) Plan for focus time

There are tasks that require great focus, whether performing precision or dangerous manual work, or designing a complex system or bit of code. Or, you may need to spend some time with a small group, free from distraction. Book a block in your calendar, shut off your phone, move to a different physical location, or do whatever is required to create the right circumstances to have the necessary focus to get the job done.

E) Know when to throw in the towel

For many of us it can be tempting to put in the extra hour at the office, or delay vacations for what's perceived as a critical set of meetings or deadlines. Trying to squeeze out the last ounce of mental bandwidth can be tempting in the moment, but it's ultimately an effort with rapidly diminishing returns. Calling it a night, taking that long-delayed vacation, or even the simple act of a quick walk around the office will recharge your mental energy and make you more effective in the long run.

F) Don't make assumptions about your team

It can be tempting to assume that what works for you will be effective for others, even to the point of designing your physical spaces and policies around what you assume will allow your team to best manage and deploy their mental bandwidth. Rather than assuming, ask your team how you can help them be most effective. Allow your teams to experiment and find what works for them, and use the end result as the benchmark for success.

Content Curated By: Dr Shoury Kuttappa

#mental bandwidth #bandwidth #cognitive capacity #executive control #time management #scarcity #mental stress #internal disruptions #unrealised need #attention #stress #preoccupation #worry #anxiety #exhaustion #forgetfulness

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vancilocs · 4 years

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4, 6, 10, 19, 20 22 29 30 34 36 41-45 for roxette, remy and iain?

all sortsa people

4. What type of discipline was your character subjected to at home? Strict? Lenient?

Roxie’s parents got together, married and had her far too young so they also split up when she was just a toddler and kept in pretty minimal contact. So she could pretty much do what she liked because A) her parents were trying to one-up the other by being more lenient and nicer to her so she could literally just say “but daddy lets me-” and her mom would let her do that and more, and B) the parents didn’t speak to one another so she could get both of them to take her to the zoo because the other didn’t know she had already been there with the other. Boi did she learn how to manipulate people quick

Remy’s mom wasn’t overtly strict but not overtly lenient either. She made sure to teach her kids manners, respect and all that, gave them rules, grounded if needed, but really nothing out of the ordinary.

Outwards the family was just spotless and perfect, but Iain’s parents were pretty strict and quite demanding of him (his sister too). But, as long as he pulled straight A’s from school, he could do what he liked with his spare time before curfew.

6. Did they feel rejection or affection as a child?

She grew up holding the leash of both her parents, but when they remarried and had other children when Roxie was in her teens, she was absolutely mortally insulted. So that feeling of affection turned into rejection really quick because she wasn’t the center of their world at all and this wouldn’t do.

Affection, dad wasn’t around but mom is and was very loving and nurturing, and there were aunts, uncles and grandmas and grandpas. So even if he had to share with his other two siblings there was plenty of love to go around

Mainly affection, but very conditional and like he had to be even better because he was born “imperfect”. He still loves his parents and kinda refuses to see how their demands still affect his life.

10. Is your character street-smart, book-smart, intelligent, intellectual, slow-witted?

Very street-smart and quick-witted, very manipulative. Knows how to use her looks to fool people and make them underestimate her.

Very very street-smart, always knows a chance to profit when he sees one. An expert on doing crimes without actually doing crimes and thus avoiding jail.

Book-smart and intelligent, good with people as well. Persuasive.

19. What were your character’s deepest disillusions? In life? What are they now?

Used to think she was the only thing her parents could care about until she wasn’t. These days maybe she’s a little unaware of how unhinged she actually is

He has a habit of not trusting anything or anyone outright, he’s the doubting kind who absolutely wants to dig into the very root of everything and see things out of every angle. He also sees the worst sides of a lot of things and people so he really has no disillusions about the world.

He’s just stuck on the thought that he needs to be better. Doesn’t matter what it is, he needs to be smarter, stronger, thinner, a better doctor, a better friend, a better husband, do this, do that, do everything cool, run a marathon, just constantly improve.

20. What were the most deeply impressive political or social, national or international, events that they experienced?

It’s hard to think about big events like that but maybe for Remy when Krea dang near got murdered, because to him the judge is damn near unstoppable and probably immortal, to see him die was pretty eye-opening. Impressive that someone that much smaller could do him in like that

22. Who are their friends? Lovers? ‘Type’ or 'ideal’ partner?

She has some friends she hangs out with when off work, regular people like club waitresses, dancers, bartenders and bouncers. She has a boyfriend or a girlfriend every now and then, usually it ends at least when they find out about her actual job or she just loses her cool like she does. Doesn’t care about the physical side but you gotta be a little crazy for her to like you. Wouldn’t mind a squeeze, casual or not.

Lots and lots of friends he hangs out with often, very few close friends though because he doesn’t trust like that. Lovers he really doesn’t have time for nor does he really care enough to have a type.

Befriends everyone if they allow it, a very friendly and outgoing guy happy to make new acquaintances. He’s been married three times - the first wife he left because he fell in love with the second one who was terminally ill and later passed away, years later he fell in love with Malva and married them. Really no type or preference, be cute and friendly, really the type of guy to fall in love with your heart and personality

29. What is your character’s weaknesses? Hubris? Pride? Controlling?

Addict, easily angered and prone to moodswings, unless she’s been given clear orders on what to do or not to do she can act real irrationally when she lets her feelings lead, messy

Too nosy for his own good, physically tiny, has a billion irons in the fire at the same time and without his trusted helpers would be so lost

Absolute refusal to take it easy

30. Are they holding on to something in the past? Can he or she forgive?

For no good reason thinks her parents outright betrayed her, refuses to forgive. Holds very long grudges against former partners too, none of her breakups have gone well

Made some dreadful mistakes that cost him his tail, will never forgive himself for that

He doesn’t blame his parents at all for making him such an overachiever, though he doesn’t even consider himself that nor does he think it’s anything to blame anyone for or anything to forgive

34. Does your character feel self-righteous? Revengeful? Contemptuous?

In her opinion nobody should ever be mean to her or do things she doesn’t like or she will hurt them

He’s just doing his thing, no need for big words.

He’s kinda vain but doesn’t consider himself better than anyone (just himself). Very chill and nice

36. Do they like to suffer? Like to see other people suffering?

Like, if a guy is harassing some girl at the club she absolutely hates seeing the girl in distress and very gleeful about knocking the guy’s teeth out. Depends on the situation. As for suffering herself... well, she’s never minded a bit of pain in the right circumstances

If they’re bad people then sure, he steals their money and sees them scramble and laughs about it. But he also sees a lot of little people suffering and hates it. Doesn’t want to suffer.

He’s a doctor, absolutely doesn’t want people to suffer. Will do anything to fix up something cosmetic or related to prosthetics that causes his patients pain or other kinds of anguish (though he avoids doing things like unnecessary nose jobs or facelifts, embrace your looks people). Not a fan of suffering himself yet he makes himself do that by doing triathlons

41. Is your character aware of who they are? Strengths? Weaknesses? Idiosyncrasies? Capable of self-irony?

In her eyes she’s a nice person who doesn’t deserve anything bad to be done to her and everyone who’s ever criticised her is wrong and mean. She’s great and pretty and pretty great. At times she will criticize others for doing the same bad things she does, don’t point this out to her or she will get mad

He’s self-aware, he has his little pizza hands in so many soups that he kinda has to have a good sense of self before dealing with so many others.

I guess Iain is always a little separate from the Better Iain he’s always striving to be. There will always be a Better Iain no matter how hard he works

42. What does your character want most? What do they need really badly, compulsively? What are they willing to do, to sacrifice, to obtain?

She just wants money, alcohol, cocaine, new clothes, a soft bed to sleep in, good things to eat, all the nice things, someone to pet her hair and tell her how great she is and maybe top her. Is that so much to ask. She’s would probably toss almost everyone she knows to the wolves to get that

He always wants information and at times goes to insane lengths to get it, but avoids sacrificing or risking too much, no lives are put in danger (or, any lives he cares about at least) or outsiders harmed. Mainly he just uses a shitton of money in bribes and acts as fast as he can to get to the information first

Be the Best he can be, dammit. What is the Best he can be? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know to get there

43. Does your character have any secrets? If so, are they holding them back?

Well she’s not super open about her work to anyone except those who know otherwise. Just says she works at the club, doing some peacekeeping.

He knows lots of secrets of other people, but for his own he doesn’t let his mom know what he’s up to bc he knows she’d disapprove and he doesn’t want that

No, he’s an open book.

44. How badly do they want to obtain their life objectives? How do they pursue them?

Her goals are pretty short-term, think “beating this guy into a pulp so I can go back to the club and get absolutely cranked”, or “I want this guy to rail me”, she’ll do whatever’s needed to get it, be it beating someone into a pulp or being cute and batting her eyelashes

He’s careful about learning stuff and things but he does want to learn stuff and things, always working towards doing that and also using the things he’s learned to his advantage

Dude’s a vegetarian gym rat health nut, maybe his methods are very innocent-sounding but he cranks them up to 11

45. Is your character pragmatic? Think first? Responsible? All action? A visionary? Passionate? Quixotic?

Very intense and passionate, acts fast, punches first and asks second if it seems the situation needed it, gets annoyed if she needs to stay back but will listen to her boss.

The type to stand back for a long time, observe from afar and learn everything there is to learn before acting or carefully moving closer to learn more. A lot of the time he doesn’t even act, at most he’ll sell the information to someone who might find it useful.

Responsible but passionate, looks at a lot of things from many angles before going for it and encourages others to do so as well. In work absolutely not the type to just dive into cosmetic surgery to “fix” something that doesn’t need fixing, works with the patient first to see if this is what they really need (he hasn’t had absolutely no procedures himself either).

#i still haven't settled on a sexuality with remy #iain and roxette actually share half of their ancestry #both are half scottish #long oc thing #iain needs to be stopped and thankfully juno and malva both talk sense into him #before he ends up sleeping at the office and eating only raw fruit and hitting the gym as soon as he's off work #roxie: *gets thrown in a cell for the night for beating someone up behind a bar*#also roxie: *crying* 'i'm a good fucking person i don't deserve this'

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satorutini · 5 years

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Guns ‘N’ Roses | M

pairing: Taehyung x reader ft. Jimin

genre: smut, poisonivy!taehyung au, police!au

warnings: (sigh) gunplay, cock-stepping, sub-ish tae, dom reader, like no prep at all, dirty talk, bondage

w.c: 5.5k

A/N: So. This has been sitting in my wips for exactly a year now b/c I was so nervous to play with the idea of gunplay aksjflkjd i struggle with hardcore smut but I’m so relieved this is finally done. ust give me some slack with this one lmao. (not edited yet)

Synopsis: Trapped in an elevator with the villain you’d been after for the better part of your career, suddenly the roles of cat and mouse are reversed.

You had him right where you wanted him. Detained, cuffed and shoved into the back seat of your armored SUV, the infamous Poison Ivy was finally in your custody after months of what seemed like an endless goose chase.

The man himself had always been very elusive. He was a former botanist and had been known as a scientific genius in the field at a young age until he suddenly had gone MIA. He had the technology to eliminate the cost of any witnesses of his crimes through an underhand production of smoke bombs and airsoft bullets heavily laced with anesthesia. His list of charges ranged from property damage to outright murder, yet the latter was the rarest out of the bunch. Victims would turn up with strange red rings around their neck, an obvious sign of asphyxiation, and their houses would be trashed. Small, pocket-sized valuables such as rings and watches would turn up missing. Furniture would be torn to bits, dead leaves found amongst the pieces of couch fluff and splinters of wood. And throughout all of this, you had never been able to find a trace of human DNA; it had been surmised earlier on that his uncanny ability to manipulate plant life on a massive scale played a role in this, judging by the copious amounts of dead foliage he would leave in his wake. Poison Ivy would barely have to lift a finger. His main goal didn’t seem like it was to terrorize the general public; it was as though he had a specific hit list lined up. When your fellow officers did background checks on his latest victims, it was discovered that all of them had one thing in common: they’d originated from the same home town. After a multitude of interviews with those related to the victims, it didn’t take long to piece together that Poison Ivy’s motive was revenge.

As a child, Kim Taehyung had been considered weak. Despite being the top of his class in high school and the son of a generously wealthy, he was regularly isolated and picked on by a group of boys whose favorite past time during those four years was to make Taehyung’s life a living hell. There were five of them – only one of them remaining now, and much to Taehyung’s great fortune they had all moved into the same city in the years after high school. Which is how you found him today, posing as a florist in the downtown area of the city, tending to a quaint little shop on a rainy early morning (which you were ashamed to say you had passed by on more than one occasion without any suspicion) until a team of heavily armed forces came bursting through the tiny wood door. The entrance bell had swung wildly at the sudden jostling, but thankfully it was early enough in the morning that no one had come by yet just to be caught in the middle of the disturbance. If they had, they would’ve been met with several armored vehicles parked alongside the sidewalk, flashing police lights and your crew escorting an eerily serene Kim Taehyung out by the forearms. The most nerve-wracking part of it all, however, was how he had smiled at you as he was escorted to the vehicle. He hadn’t even tried to resist the arrest; had simply looked up, shrugged and offered his wrists to the nearest officer. After almost a year of hunting the slipperiest villain you had ever dealt with in the entirety of your career, you were shell shocked and – dare you say it – maybe even a little disappointed. You had been expecting him to put up a fight, break into a chase, or at least plead innocence. Yet he had just stood there with a small smile on his lips as the ability-tamping cuffs were placed on him as though he had been expecting you all along.

It made you feel all the more dreadful.

This should’ve felt like just another successful day on the job. It had taken five years of hard work; years of overcoming discrimination and deflecting underhand comments, defying the ever-present expectation that you were weak because you were a woman, and crushing the speculation throughout the city that you had risen so far up in your ranks so quickly because you were the daughter of the Chief of Police .

This case should be one of the biggest accomplishments of your career.

So why did the prospect of getting into this vehicle with a man – who could be considered as a minor threat compared to what you’ve handled before, had he not been such a nuisance to catch – make you feel so anxious? Maybe it was the shitty weather, wind whipping the rain into the beginnings of a thunderstorm. Maybe you were just being paranoid.

Lost in thought, a sudden jostle from a hand on your shoulder breaks your reverie. Jimin, your closest and most trusted colleague, smiles at you with a glow of pride that you should have emitted as well. “Another case closed, detective?” He cocked his hip and shoved his free hand into his pocket, demeanor making him appear every bit the stereotypical television cop, save for the navy blue and red embroidered bands in the arms of his uniform; a standard issue distinction for those in your sector that separated you from the rest of the police force. He was genuinely a nice guy and possibly even seen as, dare you say, the good cop to your bad cop. “The weather is absolute trash today.”

It had been pouring rain all morning, by the looks of the weather reports, showed no signs of stopping. After your team had infiltrated the building, you had taken refuge under a canopy in front of the shop to oversee a raid of the place. Exhaling loudly through your nose, you purse your lips in contempt, not bothering to brush off the hand on your shoulder but refusing to face your unwelcome companion all the same. Had it been anyone else, such casual skinship wouldn’t have been tolerated on your part. Somehow, you can practically feel a second pair of eyes boring on you through the tinted glass of the SUV. “Not quite,” your partner tilts his head inquiringly. “He’s not in a jail cell yet. And even then, he still has a trial to go through.”

Jimin snorts. “We have more than enough evidence to nail this guy with. His motives were clear and he pretty much turned himself in.” He spies your frown and gives your shoulder a light squeeze. “You worry too much, Y/N. The jury will be merciless.”

You wish you could feel as comfortable as Jimin about the whole situation. A foreboding feeling in your gut told you something wasn’t quite right. After months of chasing this villain down, unsuccessfully attempt after attempt like swatting at a mosquito in the dark, you had finally caught up with him just like that? It had been scarily simple. Something about your colleague’s assured attitude on manages to set you more on edge, grinding your teeth as he gives you an overly forceful pat on the back. You wince, no more touching, please. “We got this in the bag, boss.”

“I won’t be one hundred percent satisfied until he’s actually behind bars and there to stay. Who knows what kind of trick shit this idiot will try to pull.” You grumble, finally stepping out of Jimin’s reach to opt for marching toward the SUV. “And don’t call me that, it’s…” A familiar feeling of guilt weighs on your chest; initially, it had been Jimin’s right to take the position of head of the unit. He had had a few more years’ worth of experience than you, and after your sudden promotion, there had been a very passive ill feeling between the two of you that had eventually faded with time, understanding…and unconventional intervention. Regardless that Jimin deserved every bit of this position as well, he knew his place, knew you and respected you enough to relinquish control to you. Although he would joke around about it every now and then, little meaningless digs like this would still get under your skin.

Jimin coughs. “Right. Sorry.”

Making your way to the vehicle where the star of the hour is currently detained, it’s your turn to raise a brow at Jimin as he trails behind you, hesitating while you sit halfway in the driver’s seat with the door open as you wait for him to speak up again.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take him, Y/N? Or at least ride back to the station with you? It’s dangerous, driving out here.” You automatically open your mouth to protest, fully capable of handling a cuffed villain on your own. But the look he pins you with crumbles your resolve enough to make you reconsider.

“I…I suppose a little back up wouldn’t hurt.”

The first five minutes into the car ride are fairly peaceful, a comfortable silence settling in the car save for the sound of the storm outside and Jimin’s occasional humming along to whatever song plays over the radio. It’s almost as though it’s just the two of you in the car, a familiar setting from years of riding together to and from crime scenes and areas of investigation. However, a rhythmic knocking on the plexiglass divider behind you is enough of a reminder that a certain convicted villain you had been chasing for the better part of a year was detained in the back seats, and refusing to be completely forgotten.

Whenever you glanced up at your rear-view mirror, he was there, sticking the top half of his head in the way to waggle his eyes brows at you and shoot you a wink.

“Can we please have solid dividers installed in these things?”

Jimin, who had been absently staring out of the passenger window for a moment, turned back to you curiously, glancing up to look at the mirror that you had previously been scowling at. Having seen nothing particularly out of place, your partner frowns. “Is everything okay?”

“N – Yes, I mean, he’s just-!” You gesture in frustration at the mirror. “Every time I look back, he sticks his head in the way, does some weird shit, and then hides when you look. It’s distracting.”

“Do you want me to dri-,”

“No!” You nearly shout, startling your partner. With a long exhale, you stretch your fingers on the steering wheel, working out the kinks in the joints from gripping too tightly. “No, I’ve got everything under control. He’s just annoying, that’s all. That’s it.”

Jimin looks anything but convinced, but lets it go for the time being. “Alright, just let me know if-,”

“Need any help, yep, got it.”

You know you have no right to be griping at Jimin; he’s just trying to lighten your load. But the unnerving smile flashed every so often by your unwelcome passenger has you on edge, and Jimin’s doubt that you could handle such a simple situation only serves to heighten that feeling. The atmosphere now having turned somewhat tense, Jimin resumes watching buildings blur by his window while you pretend that you didn’t notice the flash of hurt in his expression. Only minutes later, however, the knocking returns and louder this time.

“For fuck’s sake!” You growl, and Jimin can actually see the source of your annoyance this time when he looks back.

“I think he wants to use the intercom? He’s pointing to where the speaker is.”

Reaching a red light, you face Jimin, perplexed. “Is that a good idea?”

“No, but I don’t think he’s going to stop knocking if we don’t.” He laments, now seeming close to equally fed up with the villain’s antics.

“Oh, what the hell,” you smash the intercom button with one finger in irritation. “Someone should’ve already told you your Miranda Rights before you got in the car, but anything you said can and will be held against you in the federal court of law.”

His voice comes out low and unexpectedly smooth over the crackle of his breath over the intercom. “And if I say your name, officer Y/N L/N?”

You immediately look up at the rear-view mirror, only to see that Poison Ivy has beat you to it, matching your gaze with a playful wink.

The car behind you honks and suddenly you’re aware of the green light through the mist of rain. Quickly cutting off the connection, you step on the gas with a force that has Jimin reeling back against his seat. A loud thump from the back informs you that the criminal has slammed into the side of the car from the force of the acceleration as well.

“Serves you right, you greasy fucker.”

In the end, you decide to escort Poison Ivy to his holding cell alone in the special sector of the station meant to contain criminals with superhuman abilities. This is much to Jimin’s obvious reluctance, as he trails after you through the building and to the elevator, trying to sway you into allowing him to assist as you practically drag your newest catch by the shoulder.

“At least let me help you recount what happened to the Chief later today when you-,”

“Jimin,” you cut him off with a tired sigh, momentarily turning your back on the villain. “That’s what records are for.”

“I-I know that, I’m well aware. It’s just that you have so much to do already, three cases to be working on right now. The last thing you need to be doing is dragging around some second-rate villain-,”

“The last thing I need to be doing right now is having this conversation with you,” you hiss through gritted teeth. Whether out of pure good will or his own subconscious pettiness, you’ve had more than enough of his helicoptering for today. “Who exactly are you to tell me what I can and can’t handle? Now, I will be escorting this man to his cell to ensure myself that he doesn’t slip through my hands again, and you should quickly find somewhere else to make yourself useful. Do you understand, Officer Park?”

A low blow. The dejection on your friend’s face is so raw you almost drop your façade - almost.

“I-yeah…I’ll see you around, detective.”

And with that he trudges off just as the elevator doors slide open.

Guiding your cuffed companion through the doors, you can’t help but look over your shoulder in concern to watch Jimin’s back as he recedes into the hustle and bustle of the station until the elevator shuts once more. Despite his lowballing of your ability to handle your own cases, you know that to some extent Jimin only meant well.

“You probably shouldn’t have fucked him,” Once more, that gentle, deep voice cuts through the silence, this time from directly behind you, raising the hair on the back of your neck. Its not only his close proximity, but his words as well that cause you to turn sharply on the ball of your foot, fists curling and ready to serve him a world full of hurt.

“Excuse me?!”

Surely the others wouldn’t question too much when he shows up to court with a black eye.

The criminal behind you smiles smugly, a wicked glimmer in his eyes, looking as though if he could cross his arms, he would.

“You probably shouldn’t have fucked him. Men like him are clingy,” he adds the last bit in a teasing whisper, a mischievous grin teasing the corners of his mouth.

Rather than give into his egging on, you firmly clench your jaw and pray for the elevator to move faster. When sensing no immediate reaction, the felon murmurs, "I’d bet he still thinks about it – the night you took him home. Still thinks about you, probably on your knees or ass up in the air, pliant and waiting for someone to take care of you for once. Probably didn’t care he was a pity fuck. Probably gets off to it on the days when you spend a little too much time with him."

The scowl on your face deepens with your growing discomfort, not from his vulgar language alone but the fact that what he says hits a little too close to home. That night, the weather gross and treacherous much like today, when Officer Park appeared at your apartment red faced and tipsy. The night after your promotion, when after the whole ordeal had been settle, there was a moment where you couldn’t discern tears from sweat.

"How would you know? You can tell all of that from just looking at person? Bullshit, what the hell would you know?" you hiss, hackles raised.

He simply shrugs, but it’s not hard to notice his apparent glee at your uneasiness. "It's not hard to tell when a man wants a woman. Poor little Y/N,” Poison Ivy croons. "He sees such strong, defiant, independent woman and thinks that there's still some little part of you, some soft hidden spot that wants to be docile; wants someone else to take the weight off your shoulders just for a moment. A little place in your heart that thinks wouldn't it be nice to just let go and give in-,"

“Lapses in judgment were made.”

You’re not sure if you meant sleeping with Jimin or relinquishing control in your sex life (although you suppose since that one instance, those two go hand in hand), or why you’ve confided this information about yourself in the first place. You reason it’s just to get this guy off your ass, for your own peace of mind. “But Mr. Kim, as much as I enjoy your little hypotheses, if you so much as breath the wrong way in my direction again, I will not hesitate to muzzle you.”

As carefree as ever and not even the slightest bit affected by the imminent death that radiates off you, Taehyung only clicks his tongue and winks, “Kinky.”

Rolling your eyes, you mutter, “And between you and me…It won’t be happening again anytime soon if I can help it.”

“Is that so?”

You leave the question hanging in the air, but you can sense him smiling at you all the same.

As if on cue, the elevator shutters to a stop and the lights flicker out.

You hold your breath, eyes wide in the dark. In reflex, one hand reaches for your holster. Neither of your moves until a dim red emergency light fills the room, casting the shadows of you and your captive.

“Shit!” The storm must’ve knocked the power out.

Just as you whip around, a heavy body slams you into a corner of the elevator, your shoulder taking most the impact as Poison Ivy uses his weight to shift you facing forward again. Face pressed against the cool metal wall and hands trapped by your stomach, you groan in pain.

“Don’t move,” he growls low in your ear, pinning your body with is weight.

Your bitter laugh cuts sharply through the dark as your struggle against him. “Even if you kill me Kim Taehyung, there’s no way you’re making it out of this building in one piece. Every inch of the place is on lockdown; you should’ve run while you had the chance.”

“Kill you? Sweetheart, I don’t want to kill you,” he chuckles. “I want to give you what you want.”

“Well then, you gonna hand yourself in, flower boy?” you sneer. “What I want is you behind bars and off my conscience.”

“You sure about that?”

That’s when you feel it; the twist of his hips and the brush of his knee as he attempts to wedge his leg between yours. You sputter, choking up in astonishment, heart racing at break neck speed. “You really think I’d want someone like you?”

“If you wanted me to stop you would’ve subdued me by now. You’re the one with the keys to the cuffs officer.” Taehyung chuckles humorlessly into your shoulder, running his nose along the length of your neck to whisper in your ear, “the choice is yours, so you better make it quick.”

Right. There might not be much time before the power kicks in again.

As though he’d heard your unspoken resolve, Poison Ivy steps back just as you turn with your back to the wall to crush his lips against yours. He groans, grinning victoriously into the kiss as your mouth slides against his. It’s borderline animalistic, your hands in his hair, nails raking down his shoulder blades. This time there’s no resistance when he wedges his thigh between yours. He’s not hesitant to bite your lower lip. You can feel the amusement rolling off him when you moan. It’s wrong, so wrong, and yet it was that exact wrongness that drove you to shamelessly grind down on the length of his thigh, seeking friction through tough material of your uniform and his slacks.

You find yourself easily lost in the feeling until he gently demands, “Take the cuffs off Y/N.”

You freeze, head lulling back against the wall, clearly not in your right mind as you let a notorious villain pepper open mouth kisses about your neck.

Were you really going to risk your only safe guard for the sake of sexual gratification? He nips impatiently at the crook of your neck when you take too long to react. “Poor Y/N. So easily wound up, always ready to prove everyone wrong.” Taehyung’s lips skim your ear, inciting a tremble through your body. “So stubborn. Diving heart first into things despite the little front you put up. You’re not so tough after all, hm?”

Fuck this. You’ve had enough. Shoving him by the shoulders, Taehyung stumbles back in surprise hard enough to be knocked off his feet. Taking advantage of your newfound height difference you grasp him by his hair, forcing his eye up to your face. All the while he still manages to grin. You plan on changing that.

“Don’t act like you know me so well.”

The shift in his demeanor is instantaneous as his gaze flicks to the hand reaching for the holster of your gun at your hip. It’s your turn to smile, sliding the cool metal into your palm. “Aw, not so big and bad are we now? I think it’s about time you learned your place, Mr. Kim.”

“Taehyung,” he hisses through gritted teeth when your grasp on his hair tightens, curling your fingers into a fistful of blonde. He stiffens when you bring your pistol to his eye level, finding amusement in the way he attempts to tilt his head away when you trace his jawline with the barrel and press it into his cheek.

“You wouldn’t hurt me,” he mumbles, although the momentary flash of fear in his eyes at the sight of you thumbing the safety release tells you otherwise. “You don’t want blood on your hands.”

“Do I? You’ve given me hell for a long time. I’d be putting a lot of people out of their misery and it’d be just too easy to justify.” An idea crosses your mind, and you’re tempted to follow through without much of a second thought. Pressing one boot over the crotch of his pants, you inhale sharply. Taehyung groans, shuffling on his knees. You smirk. “You don’t seem to mind that much though.”

If any employee had the misfortune of powering on the elevator and opening it and see who was stuck inside, they’d witness the way the infamous villain submitted to their esteemed investigative officer. The senseless way he rutted into the sole of her uniform issued boots. The way he keened under her the direction of her hand on his scalp or when she guided his mouth open with the press of her fingers to his jaw. The obscene way he accepted the barrel of the gun into his mouth, full lips swallowing the first few inches of the barrel. Eyes fluttering shut as though he enjoyed the slow slide of cold, bitter metal on his tongue. The taste of copper and gunpowder that clouded his senses. How would your co-workers react to the sight of your latest case deep throating your pistol?

When he finally pulls away, you marvel at way the barrel glistens with his saliva. You hadn’t expected him to really do it. Taehyung all but whines at the loss of your foot. “P-Please take the cuffs off. I’ll keep my hands to myself, I promise,” he pleads once more.

You kneel in front of him instead, pawing at the front of his slacks in the dark in search of the zipper as though you hadn’t heard him at all. When Taehyung strains his neck to nip at your lips, you set the weapon aside with your other hand and opt to snag a hold of his hair again. Wrenching him away, he rocks back on his thighs with a grunt.

“You don’t get the liberty to use your hands. Not after everything you’ve done and put me through,” you snap, finally catching the zipper and yanking it open, popping the button and undoing the top of his pants where he strains against the fabric. Taehyung looks like a fever dream in the red wash of the emergency light. The sheen of sweat on his brow; lips parted, gleaming and spit-slicken; eyes heavy lidded and dark with some unspoken intent. Heat curls beneath your stomach, and you know you share some semblance of disarray as well. Suddenly your uniform feels uncomfortably hot. Unnervingly so, he grins like he’s still in control even with his cock in your hands.

Spitting into your palm, it doesn’t take much to stroke him to full hardness. Hot and pulsing in your hand, Taehyung rolls his head to the side in pleasure. Gone are the witty and biting remarks, momentarily replaced with heavy sighs and the wet sound of your hand working over him. He only whimpers a little when release him to shed your pants, sliding your panties to the side.

One hand gripping his shoulder, you steady yourself to sink down on him, but a cough causes you to pause mid sit. Even in the dark, you can see him arching a brow. “No prep?” His demeanor cracks once more the moment you put your free hand on his again to align him.

You grunt, gliding the head of his dick across your slit. “Not fingering myself in front of you. No time,”

“If you would just take off my cu-,” he’s cut short by a deep groan as you begin your descent on his cock, the stretch from the head alone causing you to gasp. It takes a few minutes of sliding and shifting until you’re adjusted and fully seated on his lap. Taehyung is practically face planted into your neck at this point, humming in satisfaction. He can sense your composure is beginning to break with each roll of your hips and takes the opportunity to bait you a little more. “What if your little friend saw you right now, hm? Poor, little Officer Park and his fragile masculinity, cradling the pieces of his pride each time you pass him by. Would probably burst a vein to see you like this, riding my fat cock like you’ve never gotten any in your life.”

“Fuck,”Gripping his hair again, you yank him back to look him in the face, his eyes shining with mirth. “Shut the fuck up before I bash your head into the wall, Kim,”

He doesn’t heed your warning, snapping his hips into you in such a way that nearly has your eyes rolling back. “Always in control, always at the top of your game and I’m the one who gets to make you fall apart. Make the ice queen crumble.” You’re about two seconds from stuffing your sock in his mouth just to get him to be quiet. “Bet Park wouldn’t be the only one in your department who’d be pissed. The impossible conquest – riding the dick of felon. Maybe next time I’ll let them watch-,”

“Next time? What makes you think I won’t just use you and leave you like the scum you are?”

Pearly white teeth glint harshly in the red light. “Unlock these cuffs and I’ll show you.”

Searching in the dark, you grasp the gun discarded in the corner of the elevator and tuck the barrel under his chin with little hesitance. Taehyung slows the roll of his hips, shuddering at the cold touch of metal. You relish in it, pressing your lips to his opposite ear with a smirk. “You’re a criminal. You don’t deserve to put your filthy hands on me.”

Picking up the pace, Taehyung only grimaces, biting your lower lip in silent retaliation. Breath shallow, you’re reminded of what little time you have and grind on him with reckless abandon. You don’t put the weapon to the side until you reach your release, rubbing yourself to completion and finally slumping into his frame. Taehyung is reaching his end as well, hips moving sporadically enough to make you wince.

Pulling yourself up off him, he groans in distress, cock flush against his shirt and appearing an alarming shade of red in the wash of the emergency light. You’re tempted to pull back on your pants and leave him like this. But you’re not entirely cruel. Reaching over, you stroke him until he’s shuddering in your grasp, practically noncoherent. At this point, it feels like a chore more than anything else until he murmurs one request.

“S-step on me again.” He must sense your incredulity because your pause only rockets him into another fit of begging. “Please, I-I need it – fuck, yes – just one more time.”

Solely out of your own curiosity you oblige, standing up to tower over him again until another breathless noise stops you.

“Do it w-with your shoes on.”

Not willing to draw this out any longer, you hastily shuffle on your uniform issued pants and shove on the combat boots without bothering with the laces. You can practically feel Taehyung vibrate in anticipation. The sight before you fills you with the sense of triumph that wasn’t present when you first caught in him this morning.

Your foot hovers over his aching cock. “Not so much to say now, hm?” And with that you gently press the heel of your boot to the base of his dick, sending him into a quaking mess.

“Shit, I-I, Ah-!” The both of you watch breathlessly as he finishes on his shirt and over the shiny lacquer finish of your shoe.

He takes a moment to catch his breath before his can grin at you again, however noticeably less cocky. At that exact moment, a mechanic groan rattles the elevator, accompanied by the whirring sound of electricity and the lights flickering back to life. You’re quick to spring into action, tugging Taehyung to his feet and redressing him. Thankfully, he stays quiet while you do so. Just as you’ve restored some semblance of normal to your appearances, the doors slide open to reveal some of your colleagues and at the head of them a very disheveled looking Park Jimin. Eyes wide, tie askew, and you can he’s been running his hands through his hair more than enough times. At the sight of you, he practically yanks you out of the elevator – presumably to get you out of Taehyung’s reach.

“Shit, Y/N, are you okay?” Jimin frets, grasping your shoulders to turn you this way and that in search of more charges to pin on Taehyung. “He didn’t do anything to you, right? God, I swear if he so much as breathed the wrong way, I’ll-,”

You laugh boisterously, startling your co-worker. “Don’t worry Jimin, we weren’t stuck in there for too long. I wouldn’t let him lay a hand on me, anyhow.”

Over his shoulder, you meet Taehyung’s eyes as he’s escorted out the elevator. He does nothing but offer a knowing smile and a wink.

#taehyung smut #taehyung scenario #bts smut #bts scenario #lmao im goin to hell but happy birthday to me

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asterythm · 5 years

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A is for Amour || Human Error (2)

Pairings: Eventual Logicality, eventual Prinxiety Word Count: 2.5k Chapter Summary: Though rigid schedules may have worked in his favour when it came to essays and science fairs, Logan's plans are ill-equipped to handle a living, breathing human. He finds this out the hard way. Chapter Warnings: “Implied gore mention” is all I can think of for this one. Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything, though! General Warnings: Toxic romantic relationship, abusive Deceit, low self-esteem/self-deprecation, negative thinking

<< First Chapter || Read this chapter on AO3

Logan Berry was just about ready to eat his tie.

Not in the literal sense, of course; Logan was very well aware that cloths and fabrics did not have much nutritional value to them. They’d be difficult to digest, for one, and he didn’t imagine the taste could be too appetizing either. The young man had merely been using figurative language to express irritation.

A little clarity never hurt anybody.

Perhaps it would be simpler to forget about the textile consumption and just put it this way: suffice it to say, anyone looking at Logan now would never be able to guess how excited the boy had been only thirty minutes ago.

Which was a shame, really, considering how rare it was for Logan to get excited about anything nowadays.

It was true, though — Logan had been walking on sunshine for weeks in anticipation of this moment. How could he not? Today was the day of his first-ever session in his new tutoring job; a day he’d spent long days and longer nights preparing for. Logan had even gone so far as to create and rehearse a script that contained everything he intended to say, word-for-word. Every detail he could think of, he had planned, all the way down to the exact outfit he’d wear — a freshly-ironed black polo paired with his best blue necktie was the perfect way to passively say, this young man means business. Knowing how crucial a good first impression would be to their overall success, Logan had done everything in his power to ensure that today’s session would run perfectly. It had taken every second that he could spare (and quite a few that he couldn’t), but he didn’t mind. After all, Logan had been completely convinced that all his efforts were bound to pay off in the end.

Oh, what a fool he’d been.

You see, it was only once Logan was watching this unsettlingly energetic thing come careening around the corner did he realise that in all of his careful planning, he’d forgotten to factor in one major variable: the student himself. And a single glance was all it took for Logan to realise that his mistake would cost him dearly.

Not only is he late, he’s completely out of breath. And he’s not even bothering to hide it… just look at that gaping mouth, Logan’s narrowed eyes had immediately observed. Smudged glasses, uncombed hair, grass-stained sneakers — one of which is untied, mind you — oh, and now he’s gone and sent books flying everywhere.

So much for first impressions, I suppose.

With the introduction of this new limiting factor, the future wasn’t looking too bright, to say the least. But if there was one thing that Logan’s extensive collection of award-winning science fair projects had taught him, it was to never waste time trying to control the uncontrollable. So, notebook clutched in one hand and tenaciously holding back doubts with the other, Logan had launched with great determination into the script that he’d practiced so many times before.

It took all of five minutes to grind that determination into the dust. Every single time he paused for breath, the freckled boy seated crookedly in front of him would take it as an invitation to start chattering away at a speed that would give even the most accomplished of auctioneers a run for their money. Poor Logan could hardly keep up with his student, let alone settle him down long enough to get through even the first paragraph.

Finally, he had been forced to abandon his perfectly-crafted script in favour of a much less elegant approach: a simple and to-the-point list of questions. Though it physically pained Logan to abandon the result of so many tears shed and sleepless nights passed, he’d rather finish things the “alkali way” (or, as the cool kids preferred, the “basic way”) than never finish them at all. And if he’s going to talk anyway, Logan reasoned, I might as well give him something productive to talk about. Surely then we’ll be able to stay on-topic.

No such luck. Logan’s first question got no more than a noncommittal shrug before Parker — or was it Patrick? No, he was quite certain that the boy’s name was Parker — was off again, running his mouth a mile a minute, dropping awful puns and grammatically incorrect sentences all over the previously pristine carpet. The poor librarians would have some cleaning up to do later.

Okay, so plan B didn’t work either. Nothing to worry about, though, Logan pretended to believe. I’ve still got twenty-four letters to get through.

To be fair, Plan C was really more of a coping mechanism than an actual step-by-step plan. A surprisingly effective way of releasing pent-up stress and frustration, this longtime favourite involved imagining, in vivid detail, the source of that frustration being slowly and painfully fed into a running wood chipper.

What?

Some might think this cruel. Logan preferred to call it merciful; after all, at least he was limiting his vengeance to the hypothetical realm. An added bonus was that, in the interest of ensuring the utmost accuracy, it had compelled him to familiarize himself with the inner workings of wood chippers. So really, Plan C was a win-win for all parties involved.

As you might have guessed by now, dealing with annoying people never really had been Logan’s strong suit.

Actually, make that dealing with people in general. In hindsight, signing up to work with Sandford Secondary’s peer-to-peer tutoring program had definitely not been the best idea he’d ever had, in that case. Not because he wasn’t qualified — complex formulas and sentence structure he could handle in his sleep. But teaching those same concepts to a student who apparently had no intention of listening, he most certainly could not.

Really, Logan should have known better than to believe that he could ever be successful in any job that depended so much on one’s ability to work with others. Why couldn’t he have chosen something with more facts and numbers?

Facts and numbers were predictable. They always fit neatly into categories of right or wrong, true or false, black or white. Social interaction was so much messier. With no structure, no set of rules, and no procedure to follow, the whole thing was really nothing more than haphazard guesswork, a real-life game of hangman where every wrong word brings you one pen-stroke closer to game over. Bearing all that in mind, Logan had never understood how some people could so easily waltz up to strangers and just begin “bonding” like it was nothing.

And frankly, he didn’t particularly want to understand. Why would anyone choose to while away their life building those fragile houses of cards; vocabulary cards filled with only empty words? Did no one realise that a single misplaced breath is all would take to knock everything down in an instant? Why waste time trying desperately to convince your peers that you’re worth their love, when you could instead be hard at work earning their respect? In Logan’s experience, relationships of any kind — romantic, platonic, even familial — were always sloppy at best when built on love. Respect, on the other hand… respect was real.

This attitude, by the way, was an entirely objective worldview that had nothing to do with the fact that Logan didn’t exactly have many romantic or platonic relationships to choose from. Correlation, not causation.

Besides. Not that he cared.

Taking a deep breath, Logan forced himself to focus back on the session. (That makes one of us, he couldn’t help thinking.) Speaking of empty words… Parker, or Patrick, or whatever-his-name-was, had somehow been ceaselessly talking about corn for — Logan checked his watch — over seven minutes now. They were getting nowhere, fast.

If Logan allowed the boy to keep this up, the two of them would end up leaving the library having accomplished absolutely nothing at all. That simply would not do. His student’s attitude may not be ideal, but he’d be damned if he let his own standards slip because of it.

After taking a brief pause to collect himself and his thoughts, Logan stood abruptly, causing the freckled boy to cut himself off mid-sentence.

Slowly, deliberately, he moved to stare out the large windows framing the section of the library where the two of them were seated, so that his back was turned and his face was hidden from the other boy.

Then, voice dripping with contempt, he spoke.

“Let me make one thing clear. I am not here to make friends, and neither should you be. I am here to teach, and as of yesterday, I was under the impression that you are here to learn. However, your behaviour so far has led me to believe that perhaps I was mistaken. For once in my life, I find myself praying that I will be proven wrong.

“Now, I don’t know what kind of merry tomfoolery you were expecting from our session today, but I do know exactly what I was expecting, and exactly what I have prepared for you. And since you clearly do not seem interested in steering this session anywhere productive, I suggest that you hand the reins to me and do exactly as I instruct from here on out. I have prepared a rigid agenda for how we will be spending this time together, and I intend to follow it. I expect you to do the same. Be aware that this agenda includes absolutely no icebreakers; we can’t afford to waste any more of our valuable lesson time, especially not on childish games.

“Starting right now, you will answer my questions so I can develop a plan for what we need to accomplish, and you will answer them without distraction. When you are not answering questions, you will hold your tongue like your entire future depends on it. Because it very well might. Is that understood —” just in time, he suddenly remembered the boy’s name — “is that understood, Patton?”

The following moment of quiet, the first one since Patton had stepped foot in the library, was answer enough for Logan.

“Good. I trust this will not be a discussion that we will need to have again, then.”

With that, Logan returned to his seat, carefully scrutinizing Patton once more to see if he could spot any differences. He didn’t need to try too hard. Patton’s transformation was so drastic, it was almost…

Unnerving. The vigor from earlier had all but disappeared — thank goodness — but with its departure came a distinct dullness to the eyes framed in those round-rimmed glasses. And where Patton had previously been nearly falling out of his seat with barely contained energy, he now slumped inwards as if the words that Logan had spoken were actually physically crushing him.

At the sight, Logan couldn’t help but feel the tiniest glimmer of guilt. Perhaps he hadn’t needed to lay the scolding on quite so heavily. What if I overdid it?

A second later, Logan remembered he didn’t care.

Excellent. This shall be ideal. The brief moment of weakness over, Logan settled back down into the library’s comfortable couch. “What are your academic strengths?” he read off his notebook.

“Uhh, I’m… nice, sometimes. I guess.”

Logan let out a deep sigh. A wood-chipper-shaped silhouette flickered in the back of his mind.

Most likely seeing his teacher’s disapproval of the vague answer, Patton hurried to add, “I mean, I can be pretty patient when it comes to worksheets. It always takes a really long time for me to finish my homework, so I… kind of have to be, you know?”

“Hm. Is that it?”

“That’s all I can come up with right now. Um, sorry.”

“I see.” Pencil scratched across paper as Logan scribbled down (a paraphrased version of) Patton’s response. In the otherwise unbroken silence, the sound grated loudly against Logan’s ears. He hurried to finish so he could move on to the next question. “Academic weaknesses?”

This time, Patton’s answered without even a moment’s hesitation. “Focus. Organization. Time management. Anything related to math or numbers, really. I’m not good at taking risks. My work is always sloppy and hard to read. It takes me a long time to wrap my head around new concepts.” He rattled off one item after another, a strange mix of confidence and detachment, almost as if reading off an invisible script that he’d already recited — or heard recited to him — many times before.

Logan wasn’t sure what to say to that. Here was another reason he hated socialising; people always had this odd tendency to hyper-fixate on what needed to be fixed rather than what they already had going for them, a tendency that Logan couldn’t imagine was healthy or even at all helpful. There’s so much beauty mixed in with the bad, and yet you choose to ignore it all? Worst of all, these senseless “social blinkers” meant that Logan had no chance of getting an accurate idea of Patton’s actual strengths and weaknesses. There was no way that every item on that list of shortcomings that Patton had just blazed through could actually apply, right?

Logan decided not to push the question, though; experience had taught him that calling others out on their poor logic didn’t often end well. I’ll just have to figure that part out myself, I suppose. Instead, he adjusted his thick glasses, wrote down one or two items from Patton’s list of weaknesses, and read aloud the next question.

And the next, and the next. They were really tearing through the conversation now; Patton’s answers seemed to get shorter and more succinct with every second that passed. Not that Logan was complaining. In fact, he was nothing but grateful for Patton’s newfound intense focus. It seemed his brief speech had done the trick.

Sooner than expected, a quiet trill interrupted the two of them. He checked his phone to see that his alarm had gone off. The session was over.

Had it really been two hours already? It had felt like so much less than that.

Shutting off the alarm, Logan turned to face his student. “Well, that marks the end of our session. I… appreciated your cooperation, Patton. We may have gotten off to a bit of a rocky start, but your focus in the second half of the session was sufficient to convince me that we won’t have too many problems from here on out.”

This time, Patton said nothing at all, settling instead for a wordless nod.

“Next week, I will have worksheets prepared for you. In the meantime, your homework is to write me a page, single-spaced, telling me a little bit more about short-and long-term educational goals. Full sentences only, please.” Logan flipped his notebook shut. “I look forward to reading your writing for the first time,” he lied.

In response, Patton picked up his backpack and started to walk away. He only made it about three steps, though, before turning back and opening his mouth. Logan waited.

The words never came. After the briefest of pauses, Patton’s mouth closed, lips pressed firmly together, perhaps to suppress whatever he’d been wanting to say.

As watched the child disappear around the corner, a thought arose unbidden:

For some reason, Patton seemed so much smaller leaving the library than he had looked when he was entering.

***

[next chapter]

A/N: Okay. Even though it's only chapter two, I have a LOT to say. Most of this is about the fic in general rather than the chapter, so... it's LONG. I'm sorry. In the interest of not putting you to sleep, let's speed-round this.

The first chapter of AAmour was the very first thing I ever wrote for the Sanders Sides fandom. I based that chapter almost ENTIRELY on a oneshot comic by @the-pastel-peach.

Two months later, I was planning for NaNoWriMo 2018 (a challenge where authors write 50k in 30 days). Long story short, I decided that I'd like to try finishing AAmour.

I didn't.

I did hit 50k, but I only made it to chapter ten. I still want to finish this thing though, so I've decided to edit and post what I already wrote, one chapter a month, and then write the second half of AAmour during NaNoWriMo 2019.

I'm already late with this first chapter because my dumb brain decided I needed to do a complete rewrite a week before posting, but in the future I'd like to post a chapter on the first day of every month.

Almost everything after chapter one is my own work. I say "almost" because I picked @residentanchor's brain a lot during the planning phase.

So yes, I may still be writing a high school AU, but this is no longer @the-pastel-peach's high school AU. Besides Logan's last name (I couldn’t resist -- the pun game was too strong) and the first chapter, any similarities to their version of the AU are completely coincidental; in fact, I've barely looked at theirs because I didn't want to risk any subconscious copying.

Also heeeeyyyyyy this is my 200th post that’s pretty nifty--

I think that about covers it. Thank you so, so much for reading -- both the chapter and my ridiculously long author’s note!! See you soon, lovelies. Take care <3

General tag list: @surleytemple @starryfirefliesbloggo @icecoldparadise @lyditist @fandom-random2405 @beach-fan @ihateitwhenyourejustvague @starryeyedhomicide

AAmour tag list: @romanticsanders @thatrandomautist @thelowlysatsuma @mirror2thespirit @pokii-jonas

Let me know if you’d like to be added to or removed from either tag list!

#thomas sanders #sanders sides #logicality #sanders sides fic #sanders sides fanfic #ts virgil #ts patton #spectral scribbles #spec made something #a is for amour #aamour #tw implied gore #tw deceit mention

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alexwinfield-blog1 · 5 years

Text

Digital Footprints: Put YOUR stamp on it.

It’s Monday morning. A new day. Another week of school. You turn off your alarm and head straight over to Twitter. “Monday already !!!!!!! (Crying emoji X10) Can’t w8 to get back into bed”. Your phone pings. It’s Lizzie. Your BFF. She never lets you down. Except not today it seems. “Soz bbe. Sooooo ill. Grab any hw sheets for me plzzzz (blowing kiss emoji) xxxx”. Mum shouts up the stairs “Are you getting up at any point today? The dog needs walking and you need to take your brother to school!” You slam your phone into the duvet, roll your eyes and take a deep breath. You’re annoyed and the day has only just begun. Toast in one hand and dragging your brother out the door by the other, you smile at the postman. “Morning”, you say. Knowing full well he loses your packages ALL THE TIME. Be nice mum always tells you. Manners cost nothing.

You get to school. The mean girls stare you down as you walk to your English lesson. You try to look cool. You tell yourself that one day they’ll take you in as one of their own, but maybe today just isn’t that day. You find your seat, unpack your books, your pencil case, tucking your phone under your hideous plaid skirt. Silly really. Illuminating skirts aren’t exactly the school uniform market’s latest innovation. You’re top of your class. You know you shouldn’t be scrolling through Instagram in a lesson, but everyone else does, and you for sure don’t want to stick out any more than what you already do. You get A’s in nearly every assignment and you compete in nearly every extra-curriculum sport in the school, but you can’t help but fantasise about that Instagram #gymbod. Your parents are immensely proud, and your teachers? You can’t do enough to please them. You love school. Never too shy to raise your hand in class, never too eager to stand in front of the WHOLE of year 11 to deliver a speech about the school’s litter policy, and never too embarrassed to admit to your friends that you’ve not even kissed a boy.

It’s lunchtime. You and your best friends of 12 years gather around the canteen table.They tell you about their exciting weekends. How their heart throb boyfriends distracted them from getting any work done. How they got ridiculously drunk at a family party and how their mum grounded them for coming home at 10:33 – 3 minutes later than expected. And you? You just listen. For the most part, you spend your break and lunch times talking in the hockey team WhatsApp group chat. They’re a laugh. Sometimes you tell the girls about your boring weekend, or even fluff it up slightly by telling them you actually got out of your pyjamas. They would never believe you. You’re well and truly the plain Jane out of the bunch. The new boy in your year asks if the seat next to you is taken. The girls think he’s a nerd but you think he’s quite cute. You say no. The girls sigh as if to say “you’re such a loser”, but you don’t care. You have to pretend you don’t know his name, that you don’t have an unhealthy obsession with checking his Facebook. You know his cat goes by the name of Clive, but you pretend you don’t know that. You know he plays for the local rugby team, but you’re not supposed to know that either. You don’t know that his birthday is the 6th of June, and most importantly, you must NOT show any bitterness towards his girlfriend of 3 years.

Home time at last. You’re loosening your tie as you get closer to the front door, eager to jump straight back into bed. PING. It’s the girls group chat. “House (girl dancing emoji) Sat nite. 8.30. B there or b (square emoji)”. NOOO. You promised mum you’d have a film night with her. Saturday night rolls around. You’ve been plotting all week how you could get away with this one, but she’s a mum. They find out everything. Not this time. You divert from the party situation. It’s now a revision sleepover situation with the girls. You ask to go and of course you’re allowed. School first, partying second. It’s 10pm. You’re having the best time but you assured mum updates on the revision sesh. So, as promised, you load up Instagram stories. On your second Instagram account, obviously. By second, you mean the only Instagram account your mum thinks exists, right? You locate the photo album named “revision”. You browse this until you find the most colourful, most mind-map-ful, most hard working-esque photo you can find. And voila! A little later, in comes a text from mum. “Wonderful stuff. Looks like you’re really working hard. See you in the morning :)” . Little does she know, over on what might as well scream @yourerliar101, several stories and photos were posted of your amazing night with your besties. In the morning it seems the party was a huge success. Tweets and Instagrams raving about the night – “Can’t believe Josh taught every1 to do the (worm emoji) (cry laughing emoji)”. “Had the best nite EVAAAAAA (tongue out emoji)”. “Me and the gals last night!!!!!!! (cocktail emoji) (heart eye emoji) #lovethem”.

Sound familiar? Well, this may not be too dissimilar to a day in the life of your late teenage years. (Millennials, this one is for you!) Through this artificial account, we learn that in just 24 hours, you are likely to perform a variety of different roles. You’re a reliable friend and a caring sibling. You’re also studious, a potential lover and occasionally a liar. But sometimes it’s for the best, right? So, quite literally, how can these personalities become transparent online?

Just like this teenager, the average social media user, whatever you may define this to be, can be traced online. Social media can speak volumes about a person. Not just what they get up to on the weekend, but the finer details. For example, they’re obsession with their house rabbits, how much they can’t stand their boss, and more recently, how they’ve jumped on-board Facebook’s latest bandwagon, “rate my meal”.

Social media, such as Instagram and Twitter allow me to present the most favourable, or sometimes least favourable, versions of myself. If you were to rewind to old school Alex on Twitter, you would definitely find tweets containing homophones, such as “u”, with my favourite acronym, still to this day, being “lol” – only used sarcastically of course. As well as this, I was a sucker for, and admittedly still am, a cluster of exaggerated punctuation, but mostly “!!!!!!!”. Although Crystal (2008) claims that young users of social media, especially in SMS, will use abbreviations such as “GTGMIW” (Got to go, mum is watching), this wasn’t necessarily the case when I was growing up with social media. Nowadays, it’s all about filtering what you put online. This screening allows you to hide your online activity, for example by disguising your wild Friday night shenanigans by deselecting your mum from viewing your Snapchat story. Or, creating a separate Instagram just for your friends’ entertainment. You can be as embarrassing as you like and you won’t have 800 followers judging you.

Goffman (1974) refers to this online social interaction as “audience segregation”. We ultimately filter aspects of our lives from certain people in order to curate and maintain a multitude of personalities depending on the context we are in. So, for me, this means presenting a sensible, family-friendly Alex on Facebook, an interesting and good-humoured Alex on Twitter, and an exciting, adventurous Alex on Instagram. Let’s take a look…

So, 2017 A-Level Results day. Here, we’ve got a definite exaggerated use of punctuation and excitable capitalisation. Not only this, I clearly thought the use of the extreme smiley emoji X2 wasn’t enough, resulting in going the extra mile with a #. What am I doing here? Looking back on this, this for sure could have been Facebook worthy. This could have bagged me a gushing army of comments from overjoyed family members bursting with pride. But why Twitter? My friends would see this. People I know, but don’t really know, would see this. Those 23 likes - those 23 people thought this was worthy of a tweet and that’s all that mattered. In this moment, I. Was. Clever.

Evidently, over the years, I desired to either be desperately funny or desperately embarrassing. You decide this one.

Would I have found any of these tweets to be bland if I weren’t to use homophones? Or exaggerated punctuation? Or hashtags? Were these attempts for me to moan about how busy my life was? Did I want sympathy or just someone to relate to?

Here’s Instagram Alex. Holidaying in the Dominican Republic, Lanzarote and Greece. Eating Wagamamas at least once a week. Being overly obsessed with a French Bulldog, attending fancy-dress parties and the occasional festival. This is what I choose to share online. Not very exciting, but a fairly accurate representation of me. You can guarantee nearly every other caption incorporates an excessive use of emoticons, sarcasm and most definitely a little too much of this “!!!!!”.

What do these linguistic features allow me to achieve?

If I asked a complete stranger to read my Twitter, browse my Facebook and scroll through my Instagram, they would probably argue that my presence across these social media platforms doesn’t really differ that greatly. You could say that for the most part, I present the most authentic version of myself online. I’m not one to shy away from no-make up selfies, or tell the world about how groggy I feel after waking up from that 3- hour nap, or in fact how much I moan about going to my 20 hours a week part-time kitchen job.

However, for some people, this is not the case. Without audience segregation there would be a context collapse. Employees would start saying “lmao” when their boss asks for a coffee. Students would use inappropriate emoticons to sign of their “sorry I can’t make it to the lecture today, I’m ill” email. Parents would text, or even worse, tag you in their FB status announcing “#DINNERISREADY” instead of actually calling you down for dinner, and we definitely don’t want to live in a world full of parents who hashtag EVERYTHING.

So, what can we learn from this?

For both professional and personal matters, it’s important to present yourself online in a way that is consistent. You don’t want people to think you have 25 different personalities. Keep this for the real-life stuff. No one likes a catfish. After all, if 70% of employers screen candidates’ social media before they consider hiring, it’s important to avoid branding yourself as a fool online. Keep those drunken night out videos OFFLINE and maybe consider deleting those 2012 “Like for a rate <3” cringey Facebook statuses. However, don’t go erasing yourself offline completely in fear that you’ll never get a decent job. After all, 47% of employers argue that having an online presence allows them to learn a bit about who they’re hiring. So, be open, but not TOO open. Be YOU. However, if “you” means writing Facebook statuses about how much you love playing Angry Birds at work, or how you’re easily persuaded to go clubbing on a Monday night, maybe it’s best you don’t share the real you online. Be mindful about the digital footprint trail you’re leaving behind.

References:

Driver, S. (2018, October, 7). Keep It Clean: Social Media Screenings Gain In Popularity. Retrieved from: https://www.businessnewsdaily.com/2377-social-media-hiring.html

Jones, R. H., & Hafner. C. A. (2012). Undersatnding Digital Literacies. London: Routledge.

#week5

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quantumrpg · 6 years

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NAME: Eleanor “Elle” Logan AGE: 27 SPECIES: Witch PRIMARY POWER: Phosphoromancy SECONDARY POWERS: Astral Projection OCCUPATION: Elementary School Teacher YEAR OF ARRIVAL: 1973 RESIDENT FOR… one year. FACECLAIM: Stella Maeve

t i m e i s a n i l l u s i o n, b u t n o t o u r s t o r i e s…

Elle was born and raised in a normal, ordinary town in Colorado, among a very large and extended family of witches. Eleanor’s family always preached to her the duties she held as a witch. They were traditional in the sense that they believed, above all else, that they were Shepards to humanity and that their life’s purpose lied in that. Her mother and father spent their lives using their abilities to try to make the world a better place. Her father, a scholarly man that she remembered had perpetual laugh lines around his mouth, used to tell her that they did this not just for the world, but because they loved each other and her the most. As a child, she believed them for a time. She believed that using her magic for anything but herself was the way that she was supposed to be. But the older she got, the more her views changed and the more she splintered from her family’s beliefs.

Eventually, a life of selflessness and doing unto others sounded like her worst nightmare, a dream her parents wanted for her that she vehemently fought against. She wanted to be free to do what she wanted, when she wanted. If she had magic, this connection to everything, then why couldn’t it be her’s and her’s alone? Asking those kinds of questions built ostracization between she and her parents. She tried to pretend that when her family whispered whenever she was in the room, it wasn’t about her. When her aunts and uncles claimed she was a bad influence on her cousins, she liked to think that her parents argued the opposite. But deep down, she knew that they didn’t. They loved her, sure, but loving someone and trusting someone -even one’s own child- were two very different things.

She blamed creative differences on the wedge between she and her parents, but the reality was that her parents couldn’t control the rebellious and angry spirit that she had become. When she set off into the world on her own, practicing magic that her family would have shamed her for, she felt free for the first time in her life. But her cost for freedom was a loneliness that couldn’t be tempered. She lost her way for a time, spending her days in the worst places with the worst kinds of people. She lived selfishly, and with her magic, without consequences. But life caught up to her, bringing her to heel with an overdose and a stint in rehab. In the world of humans without her family, she was a lost cause. Her mother, beautiful and kind, had tried to usher her back into their fold, but she refused every time. Looking back, she couldn’t remember why. Maybe pride or stubbornness? She liked to think it was a smart decision. Of course, she liked to think many things back then to make herself feel better. That didn’t mean it ever really worked.

It was the news that her mother was dying that made her finally come back home. Her family, of course, shared their disappointment in her parents’ decision to let it happen, but they didn’t care. She’d never forget the happiness on her faces the day she knocked on their door. Just like she’d never forget her mother’s arms around her and her father’s voice welcoming her inside their home again. It was difficult, at first. Being home again, sleeping in her old room and stewing in memories of feeling like she didn’t belong in her own family. But her mother made the decision for all of them that her last days wouldn’t be spent at war with her own daughter. Honestly, the two years she spent with her parents during that time was the best that she ever had. She laughed and joked with her mother, practiced magic with her father and even began to warm up to her extended family even more. She got her degree, got a job, made friends. Her life was getting back on track with their support and for the first time, she felt wanted and loved. The bittersweet reality of it, however, was that her mother’s condition worsened as time went on.

She became skinnier and more visually ill. Every day seemed like some new symptom had sprung up to bring down the usually vibrant woman. Elle didn’t know how her mother still smiled so bright towards the end. She didn’t ask. She didn’t want anything to interrupt the little bit of time that she had with the woman who had given her life, accepted her again and forgave her for all that she had done. That year with her parents was bliss… until she got the call that her mother wasn’t going to make it through the day. She had been grocery shopping, picking up whatever the house needed. She had damned near dropped all of her groceries in an attempt to get to her mother’s side, but when she walked out of the grocery store, she found herself on the streets of New York among people in strange clothing and no sign of her small, Colorado town.

She panicked. of course, anybody would in her position. She tried whatever spell she could to get back to her family and her mother, but all of her attempts were futile. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months and eventually, Elle gave up. She wasn’t in 1973, her family and everyone she knew were in the past and in another place. Her mother had died without her by her side and her father was alone to bear the grief. That alone almost brought her to the brink of using again. A group of witches she had met in her search to go home pulled her out of the hole that she was falling into. Witches looked out for each other, after all. With their help, she found a balance that she didn’t have back in her old life. A purpose, almost. She didn’t have to hide, she didn’t have to be selfish or selfless, she just had to be whatever she wanted to be. What that was, she had time and opportunity to figure that out. She still thinks about her parents and her family, wondering what became of her father and his life. But like her mother, she smiles through it and hopes that whatever happened to him, he ended up okay. She only hopes that she’ll be the same way.

t e l l m e, a r e w e a p r o d u c t o f w h o w e u s e d t o b e?

Elle is as stubborn as stubborn comes, but it’s offset by the warmth she tends to emit to those around her. She doesn’t immediately trust anyone -time in the gutter taught her that lesson hard- but once she warms up to you, she can be your best kind of ally. The kind that is willing to go the distance if she loves someone. Elle often suffers with morality issues, trying to consign what her parents taught her with what she learned and believed on her own terms. While in some instances her views may seem callous and cold, in others you realize she’s just trying to do the best thing based on the circumstances presented to her. She doesn’t want anyone to feel left out and alone like she was, which is part of the reason she became a teacher. Her intelligence is only negated by her recklessness. When she sets her mind to something, it’s hard to veer her off that path, even if it may hurt her.

#taken #witch #stella maeve #eleanor logan

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ironcmoniker1 · 2 years

Text

Plateau

I've plateaued in my mental health journey.

There was a few years of having my mental illness essentially run my life. It was about two years, and I was repeatedly hospitalized. For the past two years or so, I've been on a slow, but steady progress recovering.

I've written the first draft of a novel. I'm 90% of the way through the second draft. I have an editor I want to work with when it's finished. I need to finish it, but I'm procrastinating. I'm afraid. I'm afraid to find out it's terrible. I'm afraid to be told I don't have what it takes.

This really shouldn't matter. There are tons of books I've read that really aren't very good. I've read best sellers that weren't very good. A lot of very successful writers write the same book, repeatedly. To be clear, I don't want to write a best seller. I want to be able to support myself through writing. That's it. No changing the world. No best sellers. I don't really care about that stuff, I just mentioned best sellers because apparently, you don't have to be a GREAT writer to be able to make a living. I just want to make a living. Maybe I don't have a great novel in me, that's fine. I'll write the best novel I can, and see what happens, but holy fuck am I scared of hearing I'm just a terrible writer, at the same time.

I'm currently on disability. It's not enough to live on. I'm fortunate enough to have a family member who let's me live with them. If they didn't, I'd be pretty severely fucked. I could maybe afford a really shitty efficiency apartment, and not really eat. I couldn't afford health care, because the state I'm in decided the deductible for me to qualify for "assistance" with medical costs is about $200 less than what I get in disability. My health insurance, until April when I will have been disabled for two years, is $500 per month. I couldn't afford both health insurance and a place to live, if it weren't for my relative allowing me to live here.

Maybe it seems insane to look at this situation and say, "Well, I'm going to write to make money." In fact, I'm relatively sure it does. The thing is, I can't do anything else. Everything I've done in my life, all my other skills are geared toward sales, customer service, etc. and I can't work with the public anymore. I've had two life altering experiences with violence that basically boil down to men feeling uncomfortable about their masculinity and needing to use violence to give them back whatever sense of power or control they feel they've lost. I can't really do the general public anymore. My fight or flight response is a bit too highly attuned to men being insecure about their masculinity.

I used to be great with people. The thing I've realized in the last few years though, is that I was great with people because I was terrified of them. My experience with violence as a kid, and then having a few male role models who were given to unpredictable bouts of rage, basically put me into a position where I spend every second monitoring strangers for their level of comfort and ease. I got preternaturally good at reading discomfort because what I learned was that if I could head off whatever the discomfort was, I could keep people calm and be able to engage with them without being subjected to rage, aggression or violence. It's become something embedded in my being. I subconsciously do it. I'm reading body language, speech patterns and intonation, breathing, all of it. I didn't even knew I did it until I got sent for some sales training and I was like, "Why are you trying to teach me to be alive? I can't not do this." It just took a few more years, two of which were spent in and out of psych wards, to figure out why I'd always done it and why I can't stop.

That's the other part of it. It's not healthy for me to be doing that anymore, especially for the amount of time a full time job requires me to do it. It's literally the thing which ends up driving me crazy. Especially now, where everyone is so keyed up for conflict by so much of the media and environment around us. When homie starts screaming and throwing a fit about having to wear a mask, and I'm the person employed to have to deal with that, it's not going to go well. It's going to be real bad in the moment, and then it's going to wreck my mental health for weeks after. If someone were to get violent with me, which is happening for people in sales and customer service more and more, I'm not exactly sure what that's going to do to me, either in the moment or in the long term. In the moment, I might hurt someone, badly, because I'm fucking terrified. Long term, it might mean a backslide into more hospital stays etc. I can't really do it. It's not worth taking the chance.

I don't know.

This plateau with my recovery is kind of a good thing, I know that. Forward progression doesn't always mean "getting better." Sometimes it involves periods of just being okay where you are. At the same time, I have some kind of sense that if I'm not progressing, if I'm not getting better, mental illness is going to catch up with me, so there's a restlessness. And still, I also recognize that is a crazy making proposition. No one can be "getting better" every single moment, every single day, every single week. Sometimes, there has to be stasis.

It feels kind of like living on a train track. I've gotten far enough ahead of the train to be able to chill for a minute. The train is still back there though. It's still coming. I'm not sure how far back it is either. I think it's pretty far back, but I've been wrong before, and when I'm wrong, it means I have to do this fucking mad dash to put some distance between us. It becomes an emergency. This is what it feels like to be trying to tend my mental health, just always trying to keep ahead of a train which will run me down if I stop for too long.

I'm basically resurrecting this Tumblr to be able to write about what's going on with my mental health journey and my maintenance of my mental health etc. I don't really have anyone to talk to, so I figured talking to myself and whispering into the void isn't the worst possible option.

Also, I recently watched Wolf Like Me and if looked at as a metaphor for mental illness, it was pretty good. I liked the way it portrayed what it's like to have a mental illness, and trying to meet people, and then that doing the maintenance can mean you can have a good life. There's also a bit in there about how introducing people into your life can mean changes in how you maintain, but also that your mental health can be affected by those relationships, and kind of specifically how loving people can mean threats to their well being can effect your well being.

Josh Gad and Isla Fisher are pretty great together, and there are some moments which got genuine laughs out of me, which never hurts either.

#mental health #mental illness #habits

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sketchesandnonesense · 6 years

Text

I’m

not sure how I’m doing tonight

it’s not great though

I just feel kinda tired and numb

and i feel like I bring it upon myself

I don’t honestly know if I have depression

I still haven’t properly seen a psychiatrist or a therapist or anything

probably never will

I’m too scared

because there’s two possibilities

either A. I genuinely have a mental illness I may have to take meds for and deal with for the rest of my life trying to recover

or B. I am not actually mentally ill at all and I’m just a fat lazy waste of fucking space.

and both scare me

I hate feeling like this

I hate feeling guilty every time I’m genuinely happy

I feel like I don’t deserve to be happy

I keep taking it easy on myself trying to ease the pain but everything still hurts

getting out of bed is near impossible before 3 in the afternoon most of the time

I just feel like there’s nothing worth getting out of bed for

I keep sleeping because my dreams are more interesting and fufilling than my actual life

I know I’m never going to accomplish anything great

or even vaguely interesting or successful

I don’t have the drive for that

I don’t have the ambition and self-dicipline

any good qualities I have are only there in short bursts

I’ll suddenly have one good day where I get everything in my room cleaned and vacuum and make my bed and I’ll end up hating myself because wow I could have used that energy to work on something actually worthwhile or wow I could have done this at any time but only now I decided to not be a piece of shit go me

I appreciate the help I get and the encouragement from friends but it never feels like it’s helping enough

I’m taking it easy on myself, I’m trying to get into routines, I’m trying to take care of myself

but it’s hard

and it’s worse when every time I fail I beat myself up more and anytime I go easy on myself I beat myself up over that too because I don’t deserve it

I don’t deserve anything I have

my life is so good and i’m just wasting away my days glued to my laptop or my bed

I’ve even been eating less recently. My appetite is barely existant anymore but I force myself to eat because I know I should.

once I start going days without eating, people will get more concerned. then intervene. then I might end up in a hospital.

and I can’t have that.

it’d cost too much money

I wanna stop being a burden, but I can’t manage to get myself out of bed half the time.

more and more I keep thinking that if I just minimize how much I eat and maybe keep everything in my room off more, I’ll cost less to have around. I’ll be less of a burden, since I still haven’t even tried to get a job at any of the local hell holes.

and my art’s going nowhere fast.

I’m too much of a lazy shit to put together a proper professional art blog and to redo my commission prices

and last time I went job hunting for concept artist gigs online I ended up abandoning the venture within a day because I choked and didn’t respond to either of the possible employers I found because I’m a worthless ball of anxiety

I can’t do anything right

I just

I want to die so badly

but I’m too chicken shit to do it

I’m too chicken shit to even hurt myself

even if I tried, I’d put in failsafes incase I changed my mind. leave an obvious note and plan it so my family might find me in time. stuff like that.

do I even want to die

do i just want attention

because I’m so fucking pathetic and I don’t get enough somehow even with how much I worry everyone that cares about me with even how much attention I get from people I care about it’s not fucking enough for my greedy ass I need more attention obviously

god

I wanna cry

I wish I’d told my doctor about how my depressive episodes and anxiety attacks haven’t let up

how I still don’t feel any different

but I didn’t

I said everything was on the up and up

why did I do that

why did I talk like that

that wasn’t me it didn’t feel like me

sometimes I get these weird bursts of energy n lucidity where I’m overly eloquent and functional and it’s always at the worst times

and i suddenly forget how much of a fucking garbage can I am

god I’m so worthless

maybe if I die now I can still be a tragedy on the 9:00 news

local woman found dead in her home

she was so young and full of talent, what a shame. she probably would have gone on to do great things

but little do they know all my future entails is me festering in my room and avoiding contact with other people

they’d never know.

man I feel sorry for my boyfriend

he never sees this side of me. he never sees my depression except second hand seeing my posts.

when I’m with him, the world seems abit brighter. my heart feels lighter and I think my future might be worth something after all.

but

he deserves better than me

when he comes up to visit he’ll see all of me

he’ll see my ungodly bitchy days, my depression in it’s entirety, he’ll see my anxiety attacks, how snappy i can be.

i wonder if he’ll still be able to love me then.

probably.

he’s so sweet, and caring. he’s the best thing that’s happened to me and he doesn’t deserve having to deal with me.

nobody deserves having to deal with me.

It’s never going to get better.

I’m too broken and scared and I won’t let anyone fix me.

if I can’t do it myself, I deserve to be broken.

That’s just how I am.

I need to prove to myself I’m worth living.

and fucking god is that hard

I started off writing this feeling so tired and numb and now I’m on the brink of crying and my chest hurts and feels like it’s going to cave in on itself and I did this to myself again

Ialways do this to myself I induce my fucking anxiety attacks I make my depressive episodes worse I’m my own worst enemy and I can’t do jack about it so I might as well kill myself because I’ll be better dead in the ground than battling my own mind and hurting the people I love

it’ll be better for them to see me go quickly and painlessly then to pitifully wither away in my bed

make it quick like a bandaid

let them say their goodbyes and unplug the fucking life support

it’d be better that way

but I don’t even know how I’d kill myself

I don’t think overdosing on my meds would do it. make me incredibly sick? yeah. but my family would find out easily and probably get me to the hospital and that has a high potential to save me.

ingesting chemicals sounds like it’d hurt too much.

there’s no good places to jump off of nearby, and I don’t wanna drive out somewhere to find one. and getting hit by a car means there’ll be another person I’ll hurt by making them have to live with the guilt of hitting me.

I don’t know where dad keeps the pistol anymore, so that’s also out.

I think this is the “planning phase” my doctor told me I should call a suicide hotline if I got to this point

but I’m too tired to try and kill myself and I’d need to plan out my goodbyes

maybe leave a creative suicide note

i don’t know

I’m sorry if any of you are reading this and worrying about me

I’m not gonna die tonight

or tomorrow

I’m too much of a lazy worthless shit to kill myself anytime soon

I’ll probably be right as rain by morning or tomorrow afternoon. whenever I wake up.

I’ll just ignore the fact this post exists, accept any sweet messages people sent me, and then go about whatever I was going to do.

like I always do.

It’s disgusting how used to this I am

it’s even worse how I drag you all down with me.

if you actually read through all this, thanks i guess?

more than just skimming, and then quickly going to call the hospital

I’m not killing myself anytime soon

not yet

I haven’t got a plan for that yet.

and I wanna make atleast acouple decent projects to leave behind first. something people can enjoy in my memory n all that shit.

i don’t know

I need some sleep.

#ignore me #went from numb to crying to suicidal and back to numb #whoo #welcome to becca's emotional ride #everything sucks

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lynchburgroofingcontractors · 4 years

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Roofing Tips That Can Help You Out

Lots of folks purchase homes only to discover how little they know about roof repairs and replacement. However, all it takes is the right knowledge to avoid the consequences of an ill-cared-for Lynchburg roof. This article is a great start.

Roofing In Lynchburg VA foundations may be the cause of your leaks so don’t only assume it is the shingles. If you have dry rot on your home’s sides, it can allow water to get into your home. You should examine all potential entry points so that you can find the problem.

Don’t fix your roofing in Lynchburg VA with short-term solutions. This will cause damage in the future and is not cost effective. Remember that an aggressive, complete repair job is always the more cost-effective solution in the long run. It will keep little problems from snowballing into big ones.

Inspect your own roof annually. The roof is particularly vulnerable during the cold winter months on in to the warmer spring season. Because of this, it is especially important to inspect your roof during these seasons.

When you’re trying to find someone to work on your Lynchburg roof, you have to be sure that they have the proper skills. You might need to speak with people you know to see if they have any recommendations for you. This needs to be done because it’s not good to have to deal with a bad roofing job that costs you a lot to repair later on.

Ask the contractor to give you their license and insurance information. If the contractor cannot provide this information, then you need a different contractor. The main reason for this is because if they don’t do a good job it may cost you a lot of money to repair things later and there would be nothing you could do about it.

Be sure to get a few quotes before you choose a roofing contractor to repair or replace your Lynchburg roof. Some contractors have much higher prices that are unwarranted. To avoid being ripped off you must evaluate the market before making any decisions.

Leaks come from having damaged shingles, but you should also inspect your roof’s foundation. If the sides of your home have dry rot, water can enter your home there. It is important to examine every potential water entry point, like rotting wood, so that you are really resolving all the problem areas.

Ask a prospective contractor to outline the whole project. Talk about the materials used, how the roof will be cleaned and how long it will take. Be sure you comprehend everything that is discussed. If you think the roofer is not giving you enough information, you should avoid hiring them.

It is difficult to hire the best roofing contractor; therefore, it is vital that you do not rush into a selection. For solid advice and suggestions, talk to friends, neighbors, or family members that have had roofing work done recently. Ask the contractors you are considering lots of questions to ensure you are comfortable with them.

Not all roofing contractors are good workers, so choose wisely. You shouldn’t rely on flashy marketing to make your choice. Customer reviews are a much better, and reliable, source of information. Speak to your friends and do some research online. Check the contractor’s reputation with local business groups. When you hire the wrong company, you could lose money.

Make sure whatever roofing contractor you hire has adequate liability insurance. If the contractor has this insurance, he is more likely to be a reliable professional. Secondly, if something were to get damaged while your roof was being worked on, their insurance company would cover the costs.

Rubber-soled shoes are a must. It is dangerous to work and walk on your roof. If you wear shoes with rubber soles, you will have better traction that will minimize the possibility of slipping and falling. Roofs are known to be slippery. It will be hard to stay sure footed without the proper preparation.

Roofing Materials

When you select roofing materials, consider the climate in which you live. For instance, wood shingles will not do well in extremely dry climates. Synthetic roofing materials usually don’t last in warm climates. Some roofs are entirely metallic but should be avoided in the coldest of regions. Discuss the situation with a professional contractor in order to make the right decision.

Have you hired a contractor who cannot repair your leaky roof immediately? If so, then you need a temporary fix to help you get by. Nailing heavy plastic to the area can help. Though this technique may not be most effective, it does the job for now.

Know the differences between different roofing materials. Every type of material has pros and cons. For example, roofs made of metal are lighter in weight, stronger, and last longer. However metal roofs make for a more difficult installation, and they don’t always look aesthetically pleasing. Asphalt shingles are cheaper, and easier to install, but they don’t last as long. Tile and wood can also be used for roofing, so consider that as well.

While you’re hiring a contractor, you want a roofing specialist. In order to know what you have, obtain the license number for the contractor. If a license number starts with the letter C then the person is a specialist in roofing. The letter B means they’re just a regular contractor.

Be careful about painting your roof. A little paint might be all that is necessary to void your roof’s warranty. Give your insurance agent a quick call prior to making the decision to paint. A pretty, new freshly painted roofing in Lynchburg VA isn’t going to be so pretty if you don’t protect it.

Check to ensure that any roofer you consider hiring has all of the proper licenses required for the job. If you don’t know what kind of licensing your area requires, you shouldn’t just ask the roofer what’s needed. Contact the building department where you live and see what kinds of things you’re going to need.

Prior to hiring your roofer, ask the BBB whether any information is available on the particular company. It should raise alarms if the Better Business Bureau doesn’t have a listing for them, and a good BBB report will help you feel more confident in the business you choose. Utilize the power of the BBB when you are looking to hire any contracting service.

Your home’s roof needs general repair and upkeep to keep its value and to prevent internal damage to the home. Remember what you’ve read and feel more confident in your ability to make smart roofing decisions. Your roof is no longer something that should cause you problems.

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desdemona-wren · 6 years

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J.G.A.R.G

A. Psychology

What of the Meyers-Briggs personality types they most fit into? INFP, ENFT, et cetera…

This isn’t something Jasmine cares about or knows.

What alignment are they? Chaotic neutral, lawful evil, et cetera…

Jasmine is probably Lawful Good up until a certain point where she either becomes True Neutral or Chaotic good.

Do they have any emotional or psychological conditions? Are they aware of it?

All Wixen are aware of the cost of casting and use of magic. It’s just a thing their species has to deal with. She suffers from mild anxiety in social interactions as well just in addition to the whole. Magic slowly melting your brain thing.

Do they try to treat it?

The symptoms are easily treated with potions, but the root cause has no cure. Even wixen who don’t use casting will experience the same sort of problems.

Are they a pessimist or an optimist?

Jasmine is probably an optimist, but in a cynical way.

Are they good at handling change in their life?

Sure?

Does your OC tend to assume their interpretation of events and reality is correct, or do they question it? I.e., “I’m sure that’s what you said” versus “It’s possible I misheard you.”

This question is stupid and Jasmine doesn’t want to answer it.

Is your OC confident in their reactions to life in general, or do they get embarrassed or easily shamed for it? I.e., if something startles them, do they insist it WAS scary? When they cry, do they feel like they overreacted?

Jasmine is often easily embarrassed because of social anxiety and her voice getting shrill and weird when she talks to pretty girls who may or may not work in potion shops.

Is your OC a martyr?

What the fuck does this mean. I doubt Jasmine is gonna die for a cause any time soon.

Does your OC make a lot of excuses? For themselves? Others?

No.

Does your OC compromise easily? Too easily?

She lets her older brother push her around a lot. They’re so precious.

Does your OC put others’ needs before their own?

Probably. Especially where her brother is concerned. Caspian is kind of a mess.

Does your OC have any addictions? If so and problematic, have they admitted it to themselves?

By nature, all casters are addicted to casting.

Does your OC have any phobias? If so, where did they come from?

She does, but nothing she’s ready to admit.

Is your character empathetic?

Certainly. She’s a beat peace keeping cop that has to deal a lot with diffusing emotional situations that could lead to an overuse of casting. She has to be empathetic in order to do her job.

Is your character observant?

Yes.

Does your OC have to go through their own trials to learn a lesson, or do they listen and learn from observation and lecture? I.e., does your OC listen when someone tries to tell them the importance of budgeting, or do they have to go experience what happens if you don’t budget first?

This was too long and I didn’t read it. Jasmine is frowning at me.

What’s one of your OC’s proudest moments of themselves?

Not murdering her brother.

Do they get jealous easily? Do they feel bad if they do?

She can get jealous, yeah. Probably not easily. She doesn’t feel bad about it. Especially considering ALL PARTIES PRESENT KNEW HOW SHE FELT AND DID THE THING ANYWAYS. She was justified in her jealousy.

What instantly irritates them or puts them in a bad mood?

Whenever her brother is sick or he pushes himself too hard and hurts himself.

Are they harsh on themselves?

She used to be, but now she’s learned to take things in stride. She can’t be constantly hard on herself with her brother to worry about.

Is your OC intended to be found generally attractive? Unattractive? Average? Is there a reason why?

I mean, I’m her mother so I’m always gonna think my baby is beautiful. Though, I wouldn’t say she’s conventionally attractive. She has too big eyes with pretty heavy dark circles underneath, a too small upper lip with an enormous pouty lower one that she thinks makes her look like a turtle, and her hair never wants to cooperate. She has a huge fluff of kinky curls that somehow are always busting out of clips.

Does your OC place much importance on their appearance? Do they feel confident in it?

She wears light makeup, has a skin care routine, etc. Most of this is taken care of by potions so it’s easier for people in this reality to have routines like this. Plus Jasmine likes the repetitive nature of putting makeup on. She’s into calming repetitive stuff.

What are some of your OC’s biggest personal obstacles? This could be emotional, physical, social… Are they aware of it? Are they trying to overcome it?

Honestly there’s a lot going on in her life right now, but her biggest obstacle is likely her brother’s unwillingness to care about her feelings as far as the girl in the potion shop goes.

B. Social

Do they believe you have to give respect to get it, or get respect to give it?

Dude whatever. Respect is respect is respect. Jasmine doesn’t need to answer this.

Do they get frustrated when lines at places like pharmacies, check-outs, delis, banks, et cetera, are moving slowly?

No. She lives in a city. There are always lines.

Under what situations would they get angry at servers, staff, customer service, et cetera?

She doesn’t.

Do they tip well? How easily can they be moved to not leave a tip?

Yes.(TIP YOUR SERVERS, PEOPLE)

Do they hold doors open for people?

No.

Would your OC let someone ahead of them in line if your OC had a big cart and the person behind them had very few items?

No.

How do they respond to babies crying in public?

She ignores them like every other sane person. That’s not her kid.

Is your OC considered funny? Do they believe they’re funny?

Probably. And no, she doesn’t think she’s funny.

What kind of humor does your OC like the most? Slapstick, ironic, funny sounds, scare pranks, xD sO rAnDoM…

None of the above. Her sense of humor is there, but pretty refined. She likes dry humor.

Does your OC find any “bad” or “mean” humor funny? Do they wish they didn’t?

Sure. She’s a caster. There are always going to be things you find funny (that aren’t funny) when you’re casted out.

Your OC is running late to meeting someone: Do they let the other person know? Do they lie about why they’re late?

The other person knows and doesn’t care. Jasmine cares a lot, but it’s not something she apologizes for. She’s rarely late.

Your OC orders something to eat and gets their order done in a pretty wrong way, something they can’t just pick off or whatnot to correct, or something major is missing. What do they do?

Jasmine doesn’t order much “off menu” but if this did happen she’d probably send it back so the cooks could correct it or ask for the missing item. That or she wouldn’t care.

Do they have a large or small group of friends?

She has a pretty large group of friends. Most of them cops, some she still knows from college. They go to jazz clubs and stuff.

Do they have people they (that?) are genuinely honest with about themselves?

Her brother.

Does your OC enjoy social events, such as parties, clubs, et cetera..?

She does, sure. She’s introverted, but she can enjoy going out. Just not too much.

Does your OC like to be the center of attention or more in the mix?

Why can’t she just fade into the background and observe?

C. Morality

Does your OC have a moral code? If not, how do they base their actions? If so, where does it come from, and how seriously do they take it?

Yes. It comes from her not being a shitty person and she takes that very seriously.

Would your OC feel bad if they acted against their morals? If not, would they find a way to excuse themselves for it?

Yes.

Is it important for them to be with people (socially, intimately, whatever) whose major ideological tenets align with their own?

No.

Do they consider themselves superior or more important than anyone else? Lesser?

No.

Do your OC’s morals and rules of common decency go out the window when it comes to those they don’t like, or when it’s inconvenient? Aka, are their morals situational?

I’m gonna say yeah. People change. Dynamic characters are the best characters.

What do they do when they see someone asking for money or food? If they ignore them, why? If they help, how so?

She’s a big ol’ softy. Buys coats and food for the homeless in their neighborhood. She often uses her position in law enforcement to help them out too. There are a lot of shelters around and she and some of the other cops are constantly checking in to make sure everything is running smoothly.

There are a lot of initiatives for the homeless in Wixen universe. It comes with the territory. It’s possible a lot of casters could end up losing their livelihood due to the circumstances of their “illness” and they’ve come up with ways to combat this by having special housing for the homeless and the permanently casted out that are too far gone to remain in society.

Do they believe people change over time? If so, is it a natural process or does it take effort?

Yes.

Is your OC more practical or ideal morally? I.e., do they hold people to high expectations of behavior even if it’s not realistic for the situation, or do they have a more realistic approach and adapt their morality to be more practical?

Practical.

D. Religion and Life and Death

How religious is your OC? What do they practice, if anything? If they don’t associate with any religion, what do they think of religion in general?

In Wixen, monotheistic religions didn’t gain a lot of traction, so most of the religions are different than what people in our universe would believe. They have gods and goddesses and stuff like that. It’s normal for people, who utilize the old ways with spells and witchcraft, to worship the sun and the moon and the elements.

Jasmine doesn’t buy into the old ways. She’s more progressive so she isn’t very religious. She may burn a candle for the goddess of the moon every year on the solstice. She likes the moon goddess. The sun god never hears from her though.

Do they believe in an afterlife?

In Wixen, the general belief is that after death everyone becomes energy that goes back into the laylines to feed future magical generations.

How comfortable are they with the idea of death?

Fairly comfortable.

Would they like to be immortal? Why, why not? If they are immortal, would they rather not be?

Immortality isn’t something she likes to think about.

Do they believe in ghosts? If not, why? If so, do they think they’re magical/tie into their religion, or are they scientifically plausible?

Ghosts are definitely real. Why would they not be real? Spirits that have unfinished business are everywhere. Or people that just didn’t wanna die and end up in the layline. They’re around.

E. Education and Intelligence

Would you say that your OC is intelligent? In what ways? Would your OC agree?

Jasmine isn’t like wowwwowoow IQ of 9000 smart, but she’s not an idiot either. She’d definitely agree that she isn’t an idiot.

Which of the nine types of intelligence is your OC strongest in? Weakest? (Linguistic, existential, naturalist, et cetera)

This is a dumb question.

How many languages do they speak?

Four.

Did they enjoy school if they went to it?

Sure.

What’s their highest education level? Do they want to continue their education?

Bachelor’s.

Do they enjoy learning? Do they actively seek out sources of self-education?

Who doesn’t enjoy learning? Yes.

Are they a good note-taker? Are they a good test-taker? Do exams make them nervous?

Yes, yes, yes.

What’s one of your OC’s biggest regrets?

How she treated her brother after she lost her leg.

F. Domestic Habits, Work, and Hobbies

What sort of home do they live in now, if at all? How did they end up there?

She lives in a spacious apartment with her brother in Briarville, Delaware. They ended up there because of work.

What’s their ideal home look like? Where is it?

She likes where she lives. Maybe one day she’ll have a farm in the country with a bunch of rescue creatures where she can rehabilitate them, but for now she wouldn’t trade her apartment for the world.

Could they ever live in a “tiny home”?

That’s just a trailer with extra steps.

How clean are they overall with home upkeep?

Their home is clean, but definitely lived in.

How handy are they? Can they fix appliances, cars, cabinets, et cetera?

Most things can be fixed with a well placed rune and a little casting. Things that can’t be, she just calls someone else to do it.

How much do they work? What do they do? Do they enjoy it?

She’s a beat cop so she works every day. She likes her job.

What’s their “dream career” or job situation?

Probably a detective or a magical creature rehabilitator.

How often are they home?

Every night?

Are they homebodies and enjoy being home?

She likes being at home on her days off. That or out in nature. Wixen like nature.

Do they engage in any of the arts? How good do you intend them to be? Would they agree they are?

She was a fairly decent ballet dancer in her youth. She stopped doing in professionally when she left college and moved on to a more practical career she could see herself maintaining long term.

What are some of their favorite things to do for recreation? How did they get into it? What part of it do they like the most?

She likes to read and listen to jazz. The rest of this question is dumb.

Would they enjoy a theme park?

Probably? She likes looking at weird stuff and occasionally likes fair food.

G. Family and Growing Up

Is your OC close to their family?

Extremely.

Who makes up your OC’s family, at least the more important members to them?

Her mother and older brother and step father. Her biological father died when she was young. He was a cool guy and is dearly missed.

Does your OC find their family supportive? If not, what would be an example why not?

Yeah, sure.

What kind of childhood did your OC have?

A good one. She lost her leg due to her brother’s shenanigans, but other than that and her father passing she was very well loved. (Except for Dave. Fuck that guy. Her mother re-married early on because of grief and Dave was a douuuche.)

Did they go through any typical phases growing up?

No?

Do they have any favorite childhood memories?

Yes.

Do they have any childhood memories they’d rather forget or be less affected by?

Of course.

H. Romance and Intimacy

What is your OC’s orientation, romantic and/or sexual? Has it ever been a source of stress for them? Have they always been pretty sure of their orientation?

Jasmine is a lesbian. She’s also trans. It’s only ever been a source of stress where Dave was concerned. In Wixen, society generally accepts LGBT due to the monotheistic religions not really taking root and most people are kinda just like. Whatever. There are some people out there with differing opinions, but it is very rare.

She’s not always been sure of her orientation.

Is your OC a thoughtful partner, in whatever aspect of that you want to cover?

She probably is. Or as much as she can be with the whole magic thing.

Does your OC believe there’s only one ideal partner (or multiple ideal if not monogamous) for everyone, or that there are many people who could be right?

What.

Does your OC believe in love in first sight?

Not love, no. She falls in love slowly. She can generally gauge if she’s going to be attracted to someone at first sight, though.

Does your OC believe in marriage (or their culture’s equivalent)?

Sure.

Has your OC ever cheated on anyone or been cheated on?

Yeah, dude.

What do they look for in partners? (Emotionally, mentally, physically…)

Honestly Jasmine is attractive to clever women that are independent and sort of not terrible.

What’s your OC’s idea of a perfect date?

A jazz concert in a foggy club with someone she genuinely cares about.

What are some things that your OC finds to be an instant turn-off in potential partners?

Probably stabbing her in the hand. *GLARES POINTEDLY AT VIOLET*

I. Food

What are their favorite kinds of flavors– Sweet, salty, sour, spicy, creamy, et cetera?

She likes rice.

Do they have any eating requirements or preferences? Allergies, vegetarian, organic-only, religious restrictions…

No.

Are they vegan/vegetarian (if their overall culture/species generally aren’t)? If so, why? Do they think animal products are wrong in all circumstances?

No.

How often do they cook? Do they order out a lot?

Every night.

Are they a good cook?

Pretty average. Caspian is the better cook.

Could they eat the same thing they enjoy over and over and not get bored of it quickly?

No.

J. Politics, Current Events, Environmental Aspects

Where does your OC stand most politically? What would they align with most?

Honestly I haven’t thought much about the political climate in Wixen.

How politically aware are they?

It’s likely she’s very politically aware.

How politically active are they?

Very.

Is your OC the sort to fall for fake news? If not, do they ignore it or make a point to clarify that it’s wrong?

Probably not.

Are they or would they protest for a cause they’re passionate about?

Definitely.

How do they react to people whose political viewpoints are very opposite of theirs?

As long as they aren’t dangerous, she ignores them.

How much interest in environmental health do they have?

The environment is VERY important to caters. Most of their cities are overgrown by plant life.

In reality-based or applicable worlds, do they believe in global warming? Do they recycle?

L. For the Writer/Owner

How have your characters changed since you created them?

She’s changed a lot - originally she was Yamato from Naruto for an RP. Until eventually this RP became something completely different and turned into this crack RP with Yamato/Kakashi/Kasumi/Oniyuri as wizards. Then it became it’s own story where she was originally named Rowan and was a dude. Now her name is Jasmine and she’s cool.

Like man she started out as Japanese, then white, now she’s Portuguese/french, but her father was black so that’s a thing.

What do you consider the biggest themes in your character, if any?

Being the best gay she can be.

Did you create the character to be like yourself, did they end up being like yourself, or are they very different from you?

Lol no. She’s cooler than I am.

Would you hang out with your OC if you could?

Gross hanging out with people.

How did you come up with your OC?

Was originally part of a Naruto RP that spiraled out of control.

#writing #the story #the big 4 #jasmine #is cool af #cops #fam #.#wholesale romance #gays #trans

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thomasrydahl · 5 years

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Are you asleep, man? Here are 7 signs that you have fallen asleep in life — and how to wake up…

Are you asleep, man? Here are 7 signs that you have fallen asleep in life — and 7 ways to wake up

I’ve been there. And so have most men. The place in life where you are surviving — instead of living — life. If you recognize one or more of these 7 signs, it’s time to wake up and figure out what it’s all about.

Sign # 1 — You’ve given your soul to a job you don’t appreciate

If you are like most of us, you are in a situation where you need to work so you can afford to live. Maybe you’ve always had plans for your career and even done it well. Perhaps life has led you from one job to another. It is strong and meaningful to take responsibility for your life and be able to pay your bills — and you probably have a couple of good days here and there, maybe even good weeks. The problem is not the work itself — whatever the work is. The problem is that you are not inspired.

Half of the day’s waking hours (more than 1700 hours a year), you spend on some mediocre workplace. You live for the weekends and holidays and the occasional after-work beer. You might be betting on winning the Powerball to tip the scales in your life.

The problem is you don’t stop for one minute and consider what is going on. You don’t dare go into a study of what you spend your time doing that would really make your heart jump and your soul break free. You also don’t dare talk to your partner or your friends about your deep dissatisfaction, because much of your identity and self-perception is tied up around your job. Who are you if you are not a lawyer or account manager or cook? What would you really like doing?

https://medium.com/media/99b6993f29646050269d871064722560/href

The most devastating thing about your dissatisfaction is that it also affects the rest of your life. When your worklife is on autopilot, you are neither alive nor inspiring around the house. Not as a partner, father or son. The cost is higher than you think. The respect and love you have for yourself deteriorate, your health fails, your profits disappear.

How to move on

It is important to acknowledge that you are in a situation where you are likely to have obligations to your family, bank or work. Your fear of putting the status quo out of balance can be so overwhelming that you have to give yourself some space to investigate where your fears come from and what the worst thing that can happen is. Don’t be too hard on yourself. Use your energy to consider what you would do if it wasn’t about money. And find the courage to talk to your boyfriend or friend about what you dream of and what he or she is dreaming about.

Sign #2 — You’re addicted to food, internet, porn and other routines

When life is difficult or the everyday life is challenging, it is easier to soothe the pain and anesthetize the thoughts than to do something about it.

Most men surrender their livelihood to Netflix on the couch, wasted hours on the internet, too much porn and internet or video games that keep your thoughts and feelings at bay. Even more men disappear into these addictions without noticing it. There is nothing sinful or wrong about Netflix, the internet, enjoying erotica (except most porn is basically an unsustainable industry) and games, only if it is something you do too often and cannot live without. Of course, you can also be addicted to food, tobacco, drugs or alcohol containing substances or affecting the brain in a way that makes it even harder to break out of the addiction.

If you are doubtful of whether you are addicted to something, begin to notice if you can actually control your habit. If it is difficult or impossible to abstain from it for a day or a week, you are an addict. You may tell yourself that you can control it, but can you? Just be honest. You are not a bad person. It just doesn’t serve you and the life you really want.

If it’s hard to stop, do it anyway. Just stop. You can step down a bit first, but don’t be too soft on yourself. It MUST be difficult. After a while you will feel that your energy is rising. Simply because you take charge of your life. Don’t resist the difficult thoughts and feelings that emerge. Let them pass. The only thing that is certain is that you will not die or be hurt by being aware of your inner life. It will hurt, but it will stop. The more you let it go, the more it will dissolve.

GET SUPPORT. Have someone support you when you break free of your addiction. There is evidence that addiction has to do with a lack of connection with people around us. So don’t try to do it on your own. Reach out and connect to friends and family. Johann Hari makes the compelling case that “The opposite of addiction is connection” in this TED Talk:

youtube

How to move on

The reason for your addiction has nothing to do with Angry Birds or porn or gaming or the appeal of greasy food. But with the lack of connection to one person: YOU, and with people around you, your partner, friends and family. Make sure you get a practice of reaching into the depth of your own sentiments — and find the courage to open up about your addiction with someone. Be it a friend, a family member or perhaps a therapist. See more in point #3.

Sign #3 — You don’t know and never express your deepest needs

You might discover it by chance. One evening when you are a bit too drunk. Suddenly, an unknown anger rises in you. You almost become another person who wants to fight or quarrel with the whole world. Or there is a crisis situation, a breakdown in your life. Perhaps a severe illness, perhaps divorce or even death.

And suddenly you think: Who am I? It will trigger the feeling that there are parts of yourself that you do not know. It is a bit of a shock. It might make you and your partner uncomfortable. It may even be so unpleasant that you do not want to face it, but rather escape the feeling. Bury yourself in work, alcohol, tv or something else.

Too many men don’t know anything about their needs — not even the most basic needs.

Too many men don’t know anything about their needs. They only know a little about the needs that are most basic. Sleep, food and drink, sex and entertainment. But most often, these needs are not personal or heartfelt, but characterized by the definitions of society and a squandered man’s culture. The is nothing more tiresome than the man’s supposed need for big steaks, big breasts and big beers. It is flock mentality when it is most narrow-minded.

The crisis situation remains the primary triggering factor in examining your own needs because it makes you stop and reflect. We live busy lives, characterized by chores and duties. We overload our nervous system every day — without thinking about it — with an abundance of experiences and sensory impressions, to the extent that we may find it difficult to sense the tiny or even larger machinations within us.

THE FRUSTRATIONS YOU BURY. The quarrel with the girlfriend. The grief over the job you didn’t get. Your father’s remark during the last family gathering. Your son’s struggle to make friends. The idea that you should lose weight. The sight of Syrian fleeing children on the news. Your friend’s success that you makes you jealous.

There are loads of emotions and sensations that pile up in us — and we choose to overhear because we are A) preoccupied with getting everyday life to work B) not sure what to do with them C) afraid of them D) unable to talk about them. So when your girlfriend (or psychologist) asks you what you need, you don’t know what to answer. You try to look inward, but see and feel nothing. You are untrained and incapable of feeling and expressing it.

How to move on

We can choose to stop — and observe ourselves. It is not complicated or difficult. It is only difficult because it requires patience. And it requires you to learn how to filter the noise and zoom in on what’s going on in yourself. What is really happening to me? What is occupying me? What am I sorry or happy about? What am I dreaming about? And most important of all questions: What are my needs? What do I long for? What causes my heart to beat and my love to grow?

Next, you may be interested in formulating what you feel. Both to yourself and to others. When you get to know your own needs, take responsibility for them and share them with people around you, you enhance the possibilities of having your needs fulfilled. It is only you — not others — who have to fulfill them, but if you share your needs, people around you might be inspired to help you. Not as a demand, but as love.

Sign #4 — You procrastinate the hard and important things you know should have done already

I know this all too well: I procrastinate (the hard) things because I’m afraid of the feelings and thoughts they bring. It can be a conversation with the bank — or talking to my parents about something that does not work in our relationship. As soon as it’s done, I can see that my procrastination only brought me unnecessary suffering, but before I take action, my primary strategy is always to postpone until tomorrow, until later. When this happens, it’s a sure sign that I’ve fallen asleep.

Now you probably tell yourself that you are not like that — at all. But stay with the concept. There are hard and important things in your life that you take care of today if you didn’t resist them. Your salary review , a visit to the dentist or telling your friend that you can’t come to his wedding. Or something much more meaningful in your life. You know what I mean.

The person suffering the most when you postpone something is you

Delaying or procrastinating can cost you money and friendships if you remain passive until it is too late. But the most ignorant and perhaps greatest cost is in your relationship with yourself. The person who suffers most when you postpone something important is you. As a matter of fact, you can only postpone as long as you think the delay is free, but it is never. The cost is immediate and robs you of your joy, freedom and sense of responsibility for your life. It makes you want to go back to sleep.

How to move on

Remember: Before you can take action, release your self-recrimination and force yourself out of what Mark Manson calls “the feedback loop from hell”. It is the frustrating feeling you get when you postpone doing something about your ability to postpone. You are hit by guilt and shame — thereby prolonging your willingness to procrastinate. Let go of it. It is human to postpone, but it is definitely more satisfying and gives you much more energy and joy to do something about the issues. Do it now. Start somewhere tangible and easy. And feel the energy rising as you take on more of your important tasks.

Sign #5 — You blame X and Y for the things you haven’t achieved in life

Only a few of us have become astronauts and Hollywood stars like we dreamed of. But almost all of us invent a pitiful story about why we ended up working in the insurance industry or why we married the wrong person. The problem is not your work or your partner, but the story you tell yourself about why it didn’t go as planned and why you didn’t have any other options.

It is a sign that you have fallen asleep if you are a victim of your circumstances. If you were born to a life of globetrotting splendor, but feel stuck on life’s dusty inroads in a beat-up Volkswagen because X and Y happened.

We all end up in different places than we intended. And even if you are making an effort, life does not always serve you lemonade with paper umbrellas. The point is: There is nothing more devastating in your life than victimizing yourself and believing your own lie about why it is someone else’s fault that you are not a bitcoin millionaire or a star on Youtube already.

There is a great sense of sorrow associated with realizing that life and other things have not led you where you wanted. There is frustration. And angusih. You can’t just rush through life — and ignore the frustration and sorrow. If you do, you also choose to live with an everlooming sense of anger, powerlessness and self-suffering.

How to move on

You have to stop — and recognize exactly where you are and what you have achieved. And you will either A) realize that you might not have achieved exactly what you dreamed of, but perhaps something that is much more valuable — or B) discover that you still have dreams and hopes and that it is time to do something about them. In one way or another. See point # 6. Before you become a sad excuse for yourself.

Sign #6 — You’re waiting for something big to happen to you (or you are living a trial life)

A lot of us live a life waiting for “something to happen”. We accept being passive and hope that a tremendous job, a passionate lover or a colorful life will somehow appear before us, rather than getting out of the chair and demanding something from ourselves.

For example, notice how willingly you postpone the things that are important to you. Simply because they require an effort on your part. Perhaps you hope that someone or something will reward you for your patience or for your many years of faithful service without complaining. If you have ever bought a lottery ticket, you know what I mean. Hoping to win the big prize in the Powerball is a sure sign that you are hoping that the cornucopia of life will topple over you — by accident. Hope and trust in life is great. But without action, it will leave you limp and heartbroken.

Is this your trial life?

You may also be living your trial life. Or so it seems. You relate to everything as if it were something that you can start doing when you become the real version of yourself: Wiser, braver, more fun, more satisfied with your yourself, etc. Of course, planning and reflecting before taking action is smart, but most of us are passive and reluctant in life. We don’t have the courage to reach out for what we want. We would much rather entertain a nice story to convince ourselves and others why it is impossible or too early or too late to throw ourselves into the game of life. We live with the story of who we could be.

How to move on

The alternative to living a trial life is not to quit your job or sell the house like some people do. Begin by noticing the things and actions you postpone — and consider whether you can do a little, perhaps just one thing, this week, that goes in the direction of what you dream about.

Forgive yourself for postponing and living a trial life

Write a list of big and small things and experiences that you inspire you. Consider what you can do today or this week — or which steps to take now.

Talk to a friend or your partner about at least one desire or goal you have

Become a volunteer in an organization or help a friend with a project

Take all the money you are willing to spend on lottery tickets — and invest them in yourself: Learning, education, training, singing, dancing…

Sign #7 — You live to survive without a life purpose that truly inspires you

Spreadsheet junkie, commuter penguin, drugstore zombie. The harsh truth of our repetitive lives is a sign that too many of us are lost in a dull, robotic existence. We play the same tune, same sappy vinyls — every week, every day, every year. We keep ourselves busy enough to not feel anything — but remain the victim of our own busyness.

The drugstore zombies are coming.

If you are lucky, you suffer from severe stress and depression at the age of 35, thus learning to listen to yourself. If you are like most people, you will ignore the warning signs and push your way through life until you collapse or your partner leaves you. At some point, (it feels like) you have no other choice. Other than survive: Shut off the emotions, go to work, watch TV, eat, shit, sleep and repeat the process. When you ask yourself what you feel and think it is difficult to answer. You feel empty. You think nothing and everything. Or you may notice something, but it’s impossible to talk about. In this state, you are most likely to become addicted to games, pornography or work, the only things that can make your heart rate rise above zombie state.

The reason is this: You don’t have a life purpose that inspires and challenges you. Something that makes you jump out of bed in the morning. Something that occupies you intensely. Something that gives you direction in life. Something that keeps you curious and awake. Something that contributes to the world and inspires others. But above all, something that makes you live your life so you prioritize everything in accordance and make good choices.

How to move on

Begin to think about what your life purpose is. It’s not easy. It can take days or weeks. Maybe you already know, maybe you should get to know yourself a little better before you even feel what you are passionate about (read #3 again …)

Here are some ways to explore yourself …

Read books or watch documentaries about the people you admire or envy. What do they awaken in you?

Think back on your dreams as a child, and consider what they were about, maybe there is a truth in them. A hidden longing.

Do you have a passion you’ve never had the courage to pursue? Perhaps it is time to bring it to life. Or is there something similar that is even more inspiring?

When are you truly alive and at ease? Can you create a situation where you are even more so?

What would you do if money was no issue?

Are you still sleeping or are you awake? I hope I have challenged and inspired you in some way. Feel free to comment or write to me if you want to know more.

from Stories by Thomas Rydahl on Medium http://bit.ly/2ICfb0d

#Stories by Thomas Rydahl on Medium #tekst #thomdahl

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swearronchanel · 7 years

Text

Tired of these yet? A Christmas journey in March with 4.09

I’ve actually been productive today *claps* I’m the worst™ and a procrastinator to the core, so it was about damn time I got shit done. Plus+ I ran out of clean jeans so that was some motivation to do laundry & once I started moving I just kept going haha. But today I watched the Debbie Reynolds and Carrie Fisher’s memorial & omg it was so emotional ugh. Now that I’m so sad I guess I’m going to watch Call the Midwife. Care to join me?

I closed my eyes and pointed to the episode list, looks like we’re watching 4.09 aka the 2015 Christmas special

I don’t have to pretend very hard that it’s Christmas because it was like 17 degrees f the other day lol

Am I the only one who hums along in their head to the theme song? ok nvm

Aw a baby

Tom is actually in church lol, we rarely see him there

Sister MJ lol, what is she looking for?!

Sister Winifred actually cooks/bakes pretty often

SISTER EVANGELINA 😭💔 I still miss her

Sister Winifred aka queen of cringey facial expressions, I love it

Ah no! the death joke is no longer funny sister E 😭😭 rip💔

My bby Trixie on the scene😍

What is quality street? I looked it up before but forgot. Candy right?

whoops is my American showing

I hope Sister MC comes back soon☹️

“Behold, I have located the Brandy” three cheers for alcohol 🍻 I wouldn’t choose brandy though what am I a rich old business man at a country club?

Lol Sister MJ & Sister W giggling so pure !

“You give us enough gip when you’re stone cold sober“😂 same

Gremlin kids in the front haha

Oh no😂 Babs gave them all candy and now has to make them spit it out😂

Aw I love Christmas

But looking at this snow is triggering even if it’s fake😭😂

WE’VE HAD SO MUCH THIS MONTH HERE & IT’S MARCH❄️

yikes these kids are awful, who let them up there! 😭😂

SHELAGH’S FACE 😂 SHE IS DISGUSTED OMG HAHAA

Patrick laughing so hard like same 😭😂

Welp he’s lucky, Saved by the bell thanks to Trixie

Doesn’t Sister MJ explode whatever’s in the pot?

Ahh Shelagh looks so good™!😍 I love when they dress her up!

In other news, Laura tweeted me, which means she knows I exists. What a time to be alive™😭✨👏🏼you know I was shook

Angela so precious aww, I hope my future baby is that pretty

Now I just think of The Crown when I see Mrs Willens *she’s in it if you haven’t watched*

Oh no Sister MJ!!! 😭😭 why are they always giving her illnesses! Dejala sola!

She was legit ill in the first Christmas special 😭

Love Trixie’s ponytail, why Patsy’s hair a mess tho? LOL I SHOULDN’T BE TALKING

I’m a walking ball of frizz. And when I don’t wash my hair for a few days it actually dread locks 😂 gotta love curls

Aw Delia’s not here- I forgot she cracked her head open and went back to Wales

Protect Sister MJ at every cost

Violet literally sewing Fred’s ass into the Santa pants 😂😂😂 fun fact they did that to Olivia Newton John in Grease

not sure if I knew that because I have a junk brain of useless information or because I’m trash that reads buzzfeed

Violet’s been wearing blue eyeshadow for 3 series

“I’m not biting this, it’s too close to your backside” lol okay vi give it time. You’ll be cringeyly very handsy with each other in a bit anyway 😂

She’d do it now with no hesitation I bet

I’m here for their relationship tho😂

SISTER MJ HAD PNEUMONIA IN SERIES 1 DID SHE NOT?

Ugh distaval, fuck that. Just wait and see what chaos it brings

Aw Pats looking at the photo of Delia💔 oo wait that was a parallel then in the Cuban missile Crisis episode this series

PHYLLIS !! I missed her presence lol

Tom’s opening letter from bbc it’s lit

also: he looks good™

Poor Sister MJ! What are they feeding you, liver ew

Ah I forgot, this is when they get the tv😭

Poor Babs can’t go home for Christmas

You’ll have the nonnatus fam❤️❤️

“All should head home” *breaks out into song* THERE’S NOOO PLACE LIKE HOMEEE, FOR THE HOLIDAYSSS

Which is true because NYC is pretty beautiful at Christmas time, I can’t deny that

But also is when 100000x more people are visiting 🙃and stop in front of you when you’re walking to take pictures 🙃 *clenches fists* moving on..

Lol Tom you need to be more clear on this, they’re not getting it

Sister J shut him down 😂

“Mrs Mop” lmfao this BBC guy is a jerk😂

Laura’s another queen of facial expressions

“Aesthetics are vital” I feel

Aw Shelagh so cute being defensive of the kids of poplar

Lets be real though Shelagh’s always adorable bc Laura is an actual angel

pink wafers aye

i still have been craving them lol, there’s no bodega’s around my university though☹️

Angela is giggling, was this the last time we heard her make a noise lol

Wait this is when Sister MJ runs away

yikes measles

when did the vaccine become a thing then? that mmr shot ugh

Glad I got it because there’s supposedly someone with mumps on my campus like wtf

Why was Sister E so harsh yelling at Sister Mj!? That was unnecessary !!

LET 👏🏼SISTER 👏🏼MJ 👏🏼DECORATE👏🏼FOR👏🏼CHRISTMAS 👏🏼AND👏🏼WATCH 👏🏼TELEVISON !!

I’m so protective of her, stop😢😢

She doesn’t deserve that 💔

Sometimes I forget Patsy’s name is Patience

Fred’s Santa beard is gross ew😂😂

yikes an enema

I’d rather die

Oh no, there she goes *sings* there she goessss todayyy

Yes Babs lollipops are fascinating

She just slipped that baby out

I want to go to London at Christmas time

I love lights ✨✨

Delia! What up Bitch where you been!

BUT WAIT I HAVE A COAT THAT LOOKS REALLY SIMILAR TO MRS BUBSY’S LOL

It’s vintage too, i love it, makes me feel fabulous af

until I remember it’s probably a dead woman’s coat

WATCHING THEM LET THE BABY JUST HANG MAKES ME SO ANXIOUS OMG

“You clever girl!”

Aw poor iris 😭💔

Violet is actually so sweet & we don’t see much of her w/o Fred like why

Everyone on this show is so sweet and pure !!! I just love it too much!

remember when I was normal and didn’t care so much about television? Yea me neither 😅

Sister MJ is gone

ALL SHE WANTED WAS TO PUT UP THE TREE!!

that necklace and sapphire ring were so pretty though 😭 wish my mom had a sapphire ring for me to inherit

Shelagh is too pretty for this grey suit, where’s the navy one?!

I will never be comfortable with cookies being called biscuits tbh

“No dogs!” “If it can’t sing silent night I’m not interested” SHELAGH IS GOLDEN

SHE HAS SOME GREAT LINES BUT GIVE HER MORE !!

Oh Hay Peter

if you think about it Miranda Hart put this poor guy out of a job. Like he used to have more screen time lol but he can’t be around much with out her

“Very like a family in fact” 😭 I love when they call themselves family cause they are !!

Wait rehearsing before school? Ugh that must have been so early 😂

I couldn’t have been in that choir. In high school I woke up at 6:45am everyday & started at 8:05am & only lived 2 blocks away but I still got there at 9:15am 🙃

plus I’m an awful singer 😂

“She probably thought her habit would keep her safe”

Sister Mary Cynthia says that about her self the next series when she’s attacked 😢

Babs was right though! She was just excited bendito 😭😭

How much is a bob?? £??

I barely can keep up with how many $ is a £ tbh

Lolol had to check when I donated to Laura’s fundraising 😂😂

Delia has been with this big ass bun for 3 series as well

The cafe they’re in is aesthetically pleasing

so Delia’s mom is hella protective but didn’t notice she left to another town lol??

well I guess they’re even now since patsy left & then lost contact for a bit

LET ME TELL YOU, THE FIRST TIME I WATCHED THIS EPISODE I WAS SCREAMINGGG

I THOUGHT THEY HAD KILLED SISTER MJ AND WAS FREAKING TF OUT ™

I’m trying to think of what Phyllis’s hat reminds me of

I wanna say Mary Poppins

IT’S NOT SISTER MJ👏🏼

I knew it wasn’t but still!!!

Is Shelagh wearing lipstick? i’m here for it!

but I don’t like her dress

@ wardrobe/costume ppl be nicer to my bby pls

“Well, there’s just a word that no-one likes singing. It’s in that line and it begins with a "b”’ 😂 lmaooo c'mon Tim 😂😂

He was talking about breast feeding like how many episodes ago why is he embarrassed now? 😂

Patrick laughing 😭 me as a parent tbh

Poor sickly Sister MJ 💔

My bbys Trixie and Shelagh are ¡interacting!! 💕😍

How do I get my hair to look like Trixie’s/Helen’s

SORRY CANCELED

Lol jk all will be well bby

SISTER MJ REALLY OUT HERE IN THE WOODS, LIKE HOW ??

Ah Shelagh’s dressed up again! Love it 😍 and she’s wearing earrings & matching pearls!! so pretty!! 💕💕

this has been an episode of gushing over Laura sorry not sorry

Look at her hat, she can wear anything

LMAO HE WASN’T EVEN PETER PAN GET OUT OF HERE MAN

You have to be impressed that this 80 yr old woman with dementia found her childhood home

for real though I want Shelagh’s coat

mrs willens + shelagh was kinda a friendship & was cute

“Well I stopped holding out against that happiness, didn’t I?"💔💖

people on this show are always holding hands platonically & romantically like how sweet and pure !?

"Almost all the world was before your time child … you are concerned to see it last a little longer”

Hell yea lets get it, round up the nuns and nurses lets SING !!

“But it sometimes seems to me the older I get, the more I have to learn” 😭

“We get so much out of love, we find strength in it and courage. Love is our foundation and our fuel”

DAMN IT WHY IS THE WRITING SO GREAT??!

HEIDI CAN WRITE MY EUOLGY SINCE SHE’LL BE THE CAUSE OF MY ACTUAL DEATH WHEN THIS SHOW IS OVER ONE DAY *WHICH IS HOPEFULLY NEVER, ..I MEAN DAYS OF OUR LIVES IS ON SEASON 50 SO IT’S NOT IMPOSSIBLE🙃🙃*

shelagh and sister j❤️❤️ so pure. I love their relationship + moments together

BUT I STILL *NEED* TRIXIE & SHELAGH TO HAVE A REAL FRIENDSHIP + ACTUAL SCENES TOGETHER

no sister, it’s not your fault that she ran away😢

broadcast about to be lit

Why did we never see Trixie giving Barbara a makeup lesson😭😂

Trixie getting excited about putting makeup on Babs like same 😂I like helping people with makeup *even though I’m not even that good haha*

“Oh some lipstick might be nice, with a touch of gay geranium you’d look quite like Jean Simmons” SISTER W SNEAKS OUT TO THE MOVIE THEATRE ON HER DAYS OFF AND NO ONE WILL CONVINCE ME OTHERWISE OK

PHYLLIS GARGLING OMG

WHY IS IT SO FUNNY 😂

yea sister E I’m sorry you were kinda bitchy

I’m sorry to call a fictitious nun a bitch oops lol

SHE’S GOING TO REDEEM HERSELF AND FIND SISTER MJ THOUGH SO IT’S OKAY!! 😭👏🏼👏🏼

Tom is so handsome! i think the collar distracts you from noticing though haha

What does wet behind the ears mean and why does it sound cringey?

on the next episode of I didn’t know I was pregnant: Christmas miracles in Poplar

No but for real it seriously was a show on TLC😂 I had a phase where I watched like every show on that channel

“Antonia! Nanny found a bible in your room again” so?? like you wish she would’ve found drugs or something?

Ugh I don’t think Sister MJ will live 3 more series & I WILL BE A WRECK™ WHEN SHE DIES

Surprise! you’re pregnant & will give birth in the next 12 mins before this show ends

imagine omg never mind not feeling safe Iris I’d be freaking tf out

I told you sister Julienne just shows up and speaks and you just feel calm

“Love is not going to be halved, but doubled” I swear someone says this again in another episode but I can’t remember

maybe I’m lying idk

The Fred + Sister E dynamic was golden

what is Sister Evangelina holding?

it looks like a bong tbh

Sister MJ saying pawning her mother’s jewels was an “interesting experience"😂 dios te bengida, she needs to always be protected

aw pats & deels reunited *and it feeelsss so gooddd*

Fred saying rigging this raffle is immoral like HE WASNT THE BIGGEST SCAMMER IN POPLAR

I was here for it though lol😂

Phyllis gargling 😂😂

Wait omg she has earrings on how precious!

I always notice when girls/women don’t have their ears pierced because I didn’t realize for the longest time that it’s mainly just hispanics that get their ears pierced when they’re babies😂 I’ve had mine since I was six weeks old👶🏼

"Beatrix Franklin, midwife of mystery” aka my bby and ray of sunshine✨😭

it’s all good though, Trixie has Christopher, Tom has Babs, now where’s my handsome Englishman??

cue Vanessa Redgrave

“Sometimes the route to joy is indirect, our journey home not quite as we expected. There is no magic star to guide our steps, no ancient prophecies to predict our way. The greatest gift is to know that we travel not alone, but in the company of others. That there are hands as can reach for and hearts to keep us warm..”

Laura’s angelic voice blessing™ me on this Saturday night

I need it after being degenerate every other day of the week

*sings loudly* CHRISTTTTTTTT THEEEE SAVIORRRR IS BORNNNNNN

AHH I WANT CHRISTMAS NOW ! + THE CHRISTMAS SPECIAL

patsy lowkey snuggled up on Phyllis I love it

Trixie is serving looks in the corner 😍!

I still want those hoop earrings she has!

And they finally got a tv😭👏🏼

“And the family gathered round, watching their faces flicker black and white. Their very presence in the room an act of love, a welcome home”

*BANGS FISTS ON AN IMAGINARY TABLE* THIS SHOW IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND PURE AND IF YOU DISAGREE WE CAN FIGHT

I love it

Now I must go. until next time..

#who lets me do these lol #I dont stop #call the midwife #my commentaries™#i have too much time on my hands #but not really #i am certified trash for this show

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apolllloo · 7 years

Text

nicole.

I’VE SEEN BETTER DAYS.

apollo could remember the day clearly. it was a typical wednesday, a day just like every one day. axe had missed the bus again, either that be on purpose or the thirteen year old was just that thick headed that the alarm didn’t get through to him - whatever the reason was, axe and him were yet again tardy which brought yet another letter to their mother arising concern for their uncanny talent of being late. it something their mother wouldn’t get the chance to read. i learned to sign her name at the age of five.. it was just another white envelope added onto the growing mountain of over due bills that seemed to grow bigger while the number of hours his mother was working lessened. apollo couldn’t help but wonder what would be turned off the month, electricity or water.

SO UNAFRAID IN MY YOUTH.

everything was normal, imperfectly perfect - if his eyes hadn’t made contact with a certain crying angel near his locker. maybe if i hadn’t helped her to the nurse at the age of nine - we would have never gotten themselves into this situation. apollo hugged his weeping angel, rocking her just slightly before asking the question that would change the course of his life forever. a meteor crashing into their lives at the wrong time, too soon for the two seventeen year olds. the meteor had a name. his name? ryder james murphy.

fuck.

I CAN’T BREATHE, MUCH LESS BELIEVE

nicole had always had a hard time with ryder. it was never that she didn’t love her son, her small bundle of joy. no, it just wasn’t what she wanted. the pregnancy had been hard on her petite frame. her alcoholic father kicking her out, causing one more person to be housed under the murphy roof. apollo always looked on the bright side of things. he worked toward the future, one with his family fully supported and happy with everything they could ever want. that was apollo’s dream and he did everything he could to achieve it. even if that had meant he had to drop out of swimming - something that could’ve gotten him an almost free ride to any college he wanted so he could pick up another job over night at the gas station on the corner, just to try to save money for their big move out of ashland and to new york.

YOU’RE GETTING EVERYTHING YOU HAD.

it would’ve been more than a small bluff if apollo had said he wasn’t incredibly t i r e d. between his classes at NYU. i had always wanted to be a psychiatrist much to my girlfriend’s dismay. she was always pushing me to do better, and better, and B E T T E R. what she didn’t understand was just how hard i had busted my ass to even be able to pay for our move to the city. and the two jobs he had taken to working between those classes. JUST so nicole wouldn’t have to. everything apollo had done in the past two years had been for nicole, but it felt more and more lately that nothing was enough. the past two years had drained the man, but he was determined to never give up on his dream.

EVERY LITTLE THING YOU HAD.

the date was january fifth. exactly seven days until mister ryder turned the old age of one. apollo was excited, birthday’s had always been one of his favorite days. the small boy had such an excitement and positive view of the world around him. always smiling and giggling. you couldn’t help but smile and feel good when you were in the presence of ryder. well, at least, apollo felt so.

A PURE LOVE UNREHEARSED.

the sharp winter hair cut through his nostrils as he briskly walked through the streets. the warmth of his coffee seeping into his hand, warming it from the outside. their home was a run down apartment building. it was small, one bedroom and a laughable sized bathroom, but it was home to apollo so he’d never complain. he rarely complained - that was nicole’s job. complaining about the weather, their bills, rent, her classes, her job, or how much ryder’s medicine cost them. the child was prone to getting ill. i swear he’s been sick more times than he’s been unsick. but apollo could understand. this was stressful, being on their own, hundreds of miles from home was really getting to the both of them. nicole never complained before ryder, so apollo wasn’t very sure why the non stop complaining started after.

I’VE SEEN YOUR BEST AND YOUR WORSE.

his keys jangled in the lock. the lock was always getting stuck, meaning he had to try more than once to try and open that creaky wooden door. the hinges needed oil, squeaking loudly as apollo pushed the door open. something seemed off from the moment he had entered their tiny apartment. the air almost felt thick as he walked through the space. ryder was crying in his crib well it was more like screaming briskly, the tall male made his way towards the crib, picking up the crying child with a coo. the small boy’s face colored red with big crocodile running down his chubby cheeks.

“now, what seems to be the matter buddy?”

apollo bounced the boy in his arms, his brain completely focused on soothing his distressed son. his screams raspy from the amount of time he had been crying. soon a bottle calmed his screams of displease almost instantly. his small body tucked against his chest.

AND AT YOUR WORST, YOU’RE STILL YOUR BEST.

it wasn’t until his son had calmed had he began to wonder where exactly nicole was. a wave of anger ran down his spine. how dare she leave their son screaming in his crib like that. how D A R E she.

“nicole?” he called out from his place in the kitchen, beginning on his search for his blonde haired girlfriend.

“nic, this isn’t fucking funny. he was screaming.”

there wasn’t many places she could have disappeared to in their apartment. her shoes were still by the door, phone on the nightstand. she was here. he gave a huff of annoyment, coming face to face with a closed bathroom door. the only place she could be. he could hear the shower running from out here, yet no singing nicole as per usual. to be polite he knocked on the thin wooden door - no response.

the handle - l o c k e d.

at this point apollo was angry, beginning to pound at the door.

“what the FUCK nicole! open the damn door!”

BUT AT MY BEST, I AM MY WORST.

five minutes later, apollo had begun to get frantic as he pounded at the door. hollow thuds echoing around the silent apartment. apollo only receiving radio silence in return. what was she doing in there? why did she refuse to even make a sound in response to his relentless pounding at the door? there were too many thoughts swimming through his brain. so many dark thoughts flooding from the deepest and darkest parts of his skull.

‘i am pushing this door down’ he thought before there was a sudden loud crash and the wooden door came crashing into the small bathroom.

“nicole what the -”

he stopped. his body instantly going cold, pale skin becoming even paler at the sight below him.

there was the love of his life. the only girl he had ever looked at. there she was laying there lifeless in the bathtub. the stream of water now gone cold, plastering her clothes to her skin. her skin was pale, head tilted against against cold tiled wall, eyes open, indefinitely staring at the white tiles. the once joy filled, love filled blue eyes now cold and lifeless.

the pills she had used scattered across the tilted floor in the bathroom.

apollo sunk to his knees, reaching forward to shut the water off. a sob filled breath escaping his chest, unable to tear his eyes off of the lifeless body of an angel in the shower.

a man shattering to pieces on the bathroom floor as everything began to crash down around him in that small and cold bathroom.

I AM A CURSE.

#sp

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robertvfieldmd · 4 years

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donnarrivers29 · 4 years

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