#will let you know how things are going with my prescription meth | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

snifflesthemouse · 3 years

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I'm still rather new to Tumblr. While I've clearly displayed my ability to post my ramblings, I'm still figuring out the other various features of this platform. For the sake of reference, I have posted a screenshot below.

While I completely agree with @youhavebeenmarkled that it's grossly inappropriate to suggest Catherine, the future Queen Consort, is a drug addict... I want to add to the discussion and further develop why the concept of Catherine microdosing heroin is entirely ignorant.

@youhavebeenmarkled mentions several excellent points as to why the concept is ridiculous; from genetics to muscle tone and more. But there's deeper reasons why this idea of Catherine being on heroin is so far from the truth and reality, it's out of this world. Some could even argue it sounds like a page from a Hollywood script.

Before I get started, though, I want (and need) to stress a few things. I am in no way shaming anyone. As I've shared in the past, I am the last person in the universe qualified to pass judgement on anything or anyone. My posts are simply my perspectives, my opinions. I look at facts in the public domain, and with my own knowledge and life experience, I form my thoughts.

Please remember while you read this, I am not looking down on anyone. I am not bragging about knowing what drug addiction is or is not. I am only sharing some insights with you, the reader, on what real life heroin addiction is like. My only goal is giving insight.

I am not proud of my past, and I am not condoning it. Nor should you. Accountability is how I stay clean. Please do not feel like I am suggesting non-addicts are ignorant or "square". Not knowing or understanding heroin addiction is a blessing. It's a good thing to be in the dark about certain things because it means you're smarter than people like me.

Be proud of the fact you don't automatically see why these blind items are total nonsense from the start. And if you aren't proud of yourself, just know I am proud AF of you. For those of you like myself who have been through the hell of addiction, remember we do recover. With all that being said, let's get going.

You see, anyone with firsthand experience or knowledge of true heroin addiction would automatically know these rumors are absolutely ridiculous. Why? Because heroin addiction doesn't work that way.

Now don't get me wrong. The world is filled with functioning closet addicts. I myself was a functioning closet addict for years before the world was any the wiser. The key point, though, is the world did eventually get wiser.

Heroin addiction usually starts out in one of a few ways. Most Americans addicted to heroin became that way because of prescription painkillers. For example, I first got addicted to pain pills. When the pain pills became impossible to get, I took what I could get that was the closest equivalent. That was heroin.

But some people start using heroin because they did some at a party with friends. Or they have a loved one addicted and wanted to see what the fuss was all about. Some people are hooked on other drugs, like cocaine or ecstasy, and their usual dealer offers a free sample of the latest batch of heroin. There's a saying among addicts; "The first one's free."

Dealers know they can increase their profitability if they can get established clients addicted to other products they traffic. But these are just a few examples of how people get started using heroin. Very rarely does anyone start out on heroin simply because they want to stay thin. Contrary to the popular belief known to many as "heroin chic" that came from supermodels in the mid 80s and 90s.

Heroin is what addicts refer to as a euphoria narcotic. It has a euphoric effect, and it is sometimes called a "downer". Cocaine, crack cocaine, methamphetamine, or amphetamines are called "uppers" or "speeders" because they stimulate the brain and give energy. While heroin can have that affect on people, it is not the traditional go-to for illicit weight management.

In other words, if Catherine really did use microdosing (a concept I will debunk in a moment), her first, best choice would be a stimulant like cocaine because it's much more effective at appetite suppression and providing energy. Heroin wouldn't be the first, best choice for many reasons.

Because of its nature, heroin is highly addictive. Most users begin snorting the drug in powder form. Within seconds to a minute, the substance enters the bloodstream and hits the brain. The brain then releases endorphins that travel the rewards pathway in the brain. The first time one uses heroin is the highest they will ever feel from using. Every subsequent dose releases less and less endorphins in the brain. This is why recovering addicts talk about chasing their sobriety like they chased their first high. This is also why microdosing is an almost-impossible behavior.

Microdosing means taking tiny, small amounts over time. Meaning that you only use the minimum amount to achieve the effect you desire. But the problem is, your brain becomes physically dependent on the substance over time. Every time an addict uses, the brain gets more dependent on that substance to function. So, while a non-addict's brain has no issues with their brain producing endorphins, an addict's brain does. This is why heroin is so addictive.

Eventually, a heroin addict's brain will become so reliant on heroin to produce endorphins, the addict will become entirely dependent. This is also known as becoming hooked. When the addict doesn't have the minimum amount of heroin the body is accustomed to, or depending upon, the addict will start withdrawal. This is often called being "dope sick" or "detoxing".

Detoxing or being dope sick is the driving force behind addicts staying addicts. Being dope sick is the biggest fear of an addict. So much so, the fear of detoxing is enough to drive otherwise good, decent human beings to doing absolutely whatever it takes to avoid detoxing. Stealing from loved ones, manipulating innocent bystanders, lying, cheating, robbing, selling your body... are the half of it.

Being dope sick is like having the worst flu of your life times a million. You will vomit, have uncontrollable diarrhea, and your body will hurt worse than anything you could ever imagine. If you detox for more than a day, you will begin to feel like your insides are shaking, burning, and pulling apart inside. You can't sleep. You can't eat. You can't get out of bed. You miss work and lose your job (if you still have one at this point). You get desperate before this point, and you get carnal after this point.

Your brain and entire body becomes dependent on this substance to function subpar. Without this substance, everything begins to stop working properly. Depending on exactly how much you use normally, your withdrawal can become life threatening. You can have seizures, strokes, or even go into cardiac arrest. Hopefully you can see by now why I say the concept of microdosing is ridiculous.

To be able to micro dose would require the self control and willpower of a super human. This reminds me of an article I once read about a college professor who advocated for drug use. He claimed he wasn't addicted, had control of his drug use, and was a productive member of society. He said he'd use heroin like others drink after a long day of work. Yet, he's been using it for over a decade. Yet, he experienced detoxing. That professor is a prime example of an addict in denial. But I digress...

My points are this:

1. Heroin wouldn't be the first choice for weight control or appetite suppression; cocaine or stimulants like meth or ritalin would be.

2. Microdosing is an almost-impossible method of drug use because the body gets hooked quickly. Which means the dose will only increase in amount in order to have the same effects over time.

3. Heroin causes an addiction that results in serious, life threatening withdrawal that drives even the nicest person to doing the worst of the worst.

4. Heroin addiction, even in small amounts, takes no time to invade and overtake one's life. It literally only takes one time to get hooked. It literally takes no time to destroy everything.

Oh, and one more thing before I put a sock in it... at the height of my active addiction, I was using around 2 grams a day to feel normal. I spent at minimum $200 a day on heroin. Sometimes even more. When I started out, I was only using a tenth or less. It takes 10 of those to make a gram. So within two months of starting, I went from doing one tenth to needing 20 of those tenths just to feel normal and function. All the while, I never got smaller than 150 pounds.

I know it sounds terrible, but I would lament over how unfair it was. I was doing all this heroin, and I was still thick AF. I would literally joke to fellow addicts I would use with how it was total bullshit. How was it I was using 2 grams a day and still a size 12 or 14? That's how sick I was in my disease. Which is my final point.

Not everyone on heroin is "heroin chic" skinny. The effort, will power, and self control it would take to "microdose" would be far greater than what it would take to control one's diet and exercise. Plus it would be much cheaper to hire a trainer than employ a drug dealer.

I hope this very long, detailed, winded post gives better insight to the deeper reasons the blind item is so dumb. I also hope it gives insight to the real life of heroin addiction. My goal was, and is, to provide real examples to the blind item's absurdity. If I can help people better understand heroin addiction, potentially deterring someone from ever touching it or even a loved one learning something that could help someone they know struggling with addiction... well that would be a bonus.

P.S. If you or a loved one you know is struggling with addiction, there is help out there. If you have any questions or just need someone to listen, please feel free to message me. I will do my best to help. I've been there. They say the only way to keep your sobriety is by giving it away... I have plenty to give. Be forewarned, though, I am unapologetically blunt and honest to a fault. I mean no harm, but I will not sugar coat anything.

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addict-diary · 2 years

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I guess for all this to make sense I’d have to start at the beginning, as if 1) anyone gave a shit and 2) the far out chance anyone actually reads it. I grew up with an addict for a father and alcoholic/addict of a mother. Which is shocking to actually write considering I had a fairly good childhood - better then most. My parents were functioning addicts. They always had jobs, I was never homeless. I had clothes, and food and all the things you think prevents someone from ending up where I am. Mental illness also definitely comes into play here as well but that’s later on. My parents did divorce when I was young though after a very tumultuous marriage. I’m sure you could find a million other stories like mine, especially where I live. And the funny part? I never picked up a needle, I never smoked crack, meth, nothing. Neither did my parents. So I guess your wondering what the fuck I’m bitching about then, right? And believe me, I know how this sounds having one parent addicted to opiate pills and another being an alcoholic with an affinity for narcotics. Drinking was “okay” because it was legal. The prescriptions were legal. I remember everyone drinking at every single family function as far back as my memory goes. I have quite a few photos of me as a toddler holding a can of Budweiser, obviously as a joke. But I feel like that little tidbit just gives you an idea of what I was working with here. My mom was a bartender, good places, mostly pubs. My dad did a manual labor type position with a union. Coveted position in this day and age if I might add. God I sound old. I turn 30 this year for context. (I know, what in the fuck am I doing on here of all apps? I have my therapist trying to figure this shit out that I have going on mentally so writing is a task I must do for my own sanity, as I’m told.) Mom had full custody, dad got me on the weekends for visitation I suppose you’d call it. Neither of them are perfect and I really only have a good relationship with my dad. I’m fairly certain the first drug I ever did was a pain pill. It was either that or coke. What a fucking cliché. Growing up I wouldn’t say I was neglected more - not really allowed to act like a child. I learned how to cook on the stove/oven when I was like 7. I had younger cousins and siblings I ended up being responsible for in terms of babysitting when I was super young. But I’ll still say it wasn’t necessarily bad until I got older and started diverting from what they thought I should be doing and started doing what all teenage girls do - fight/bitch/rebel. But I had the added bonus of my brain being fucked with a whole bunch of abandonment issues. Junior high rolls around and I meet 2/3 of my best friends for the duration of jr and sr high school. We all drank a little on the weekends, smoked a little weed. Nothing too wild. Got caught, grounded, rinse and repeat. So my one best friend well call K, had a HUGE crush on her older neighbors friend. We were in 8th grade going into 9th over the summer and they were in the class of recently graduated seniors in our school. Well only her neighbor, who will now be referred to as F, her crush was living in a way further town. Which actually pretty fucking gross in hindsight. 18 year old dudes entertaining 14 year olds. But for sake of story telling let’s call K’s crush, B. So K calls me one day and asks to hang out, I forget where we met but we end up walking down my street. And guess who pops out of my neighbors (never met) house. F & B pop out of my neighbors house who we will refer to as R. Turns out F, B, and R are all best friends. Well they give us attention and we’re crazy over it. F asks for my number, rather my AIM screen name - holy fuck I am old. So we make tentative plans to meet up that night with F and B. R had a girlfriend and was busy that night so it would just be us 4. We run back to my house freaking out that older guys paid us attention, and while this was not new to my overly developed early tits, it was to my friend who at that point was overweight for our age…

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kevinbirthday · 4 years

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Some days I think about Aaron minyard and about the fact that the aftg fandom gives him so much shit about going back on his deal with Andrew, or being a drug addict in the past and making that his only personality trait in fanfics, or going on and on about the fact that he doesn’t understand Andrew and maybe he doesn’t but

aaron understands Andrew when Andrew gets that flash of panic in his eye followed by a not quite there look before it goes his face goes blank because Aaron definitely has at least a little bit of ptsd bc who and I kidding the kid was beat, brainwashed/groomed his whole life, and had his mom get him addicted to drugs so he definitely has some ptsd like even as he’s older seeing a little blond kid all bruised up after the little dude fell out of a tree at the hospital to check out his broken arm definitely triggers him because all he can see is himself or Andrew all alone in the kids hazel eyes

but what really gets him is closing the bathroom door to the Colombia house (i can’t remember if it’s tilda’s house or the Colombia house they detox him in) and he always has to have it propped open to were he can tell he’s able to get out or he has to have something between the door and the frame to keep it from closing all the way if someone tries to slam it, him and Andrew are exact opposites when it comes to this

I know the bathroom door thing will bother him from personal experience because I had to sit outside my best friends room when she closes it to change or whatever because she was locked in her room once while going through withdrawals from Xanax cut with fentanyl and she can’t have her door closed or if it is closed you have to promise to let her out/promise you won’t lock it which takes me to my next point aaron makes Andrew sit outside the bathroom door when he needs it closed because in his words ‘you fucked this up for me so you have to deal with it’ and Andrew is just like ‘Yes I will keep my brother safe even if it’s from his head’ bc even tho Andrew is a little fucking shit he’s still a good brother and I live by that

but also the monsters are basically all teen boys so they aren’t going to be painting bathroom doors just bc of some scratches on it so aaron has to look at where he scratched off the paint of the door trying to get out of the bathroom while he was going through his withdrawals and it makes him like physically ill to look at the door and it’s never repainted until Neil is like ‘yo aaron hates the bathroom door. Why?’ And one day Aaron catches Andrew with a quart of paint spot covering the door in the twins 2nd year one night they’re at the Colombia house

This is like all over the place but yea the cold turkey detox thing sucks, ik from personal experience and that was just from nicotine and prescriptions I didn’t have a weening plan for, Aaron was on opioids/whatever his mom had around the house which means whatever he was on was definitely cut with other drugs like fentanyl or meth or whatever the dealer could mix with the pills and repress them to maximize profit and since aaron/his mom were buying off the streets poor dude was definitely coming off of multiple drugs at once and his body must have been fighting so hard

And like I wasn’t even locked up imagine being locked in a cold ass bathroom while you’re having the worst however many days it takes to flush the drugs out of it system through just throwing up and sweating it out yk

So I think Aaron has rights to be resentful towards Andrew for his rehab methods :/ bc it would leave a damaging physiological impact on anyone but esp a previously abused druggie teen.

I have lots of opinions on Aaron and I hate how he gets 0 redemption ark at all. Neil ‘hates’ him which is why we don’t see the good side of him but like we know neils a unreliable narrator like jeez I’m so tired of Aaron just being the butt of the joke in every situation just because the unreliable narrator with an attitude problem told y’all that Aaron sucks ://

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ssvgawara · 4 years

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Haikyuu boys and some oddly specific crime they’d commit

a/n: I come back and the first thing I write is a shitpost!! enjoy </3 tw for drugs, murder, alcohol and general crime committing xoxo

Karasuno

Daichi- he’s a cop sorry that’s all there is to it man

Suga- Suga has multiple charges of 1st-degree murder against him but they can’t seem to find his identity so he continues committing murder and will continue until he gets caught or ends up murdering enough people to be put in a position of power

Asahi- everyone is probably like “Oh Asahi is innocent” NO. He has learned that his slightly scary face will let him get away with a lot, he is buying alcohol illegally because he looks old enough to, and he’s buying so much other shit and just getting away with it

Nishinoya- This man gives fucking pimp vibes I can just see him in the big leopard print fur coat with a pretty girl in his lap and he calls himself big poppa but no one else will

Tanaka- Drug dealer vibes, probably runs an entire fucking drug ring with his sister and not just a Lil weed these mfkas have the hard shit too like you could probably buy meth from them, he’s not using it but it’s good business

Ennoshita, Kinoshita, and Narita- They literally rob a bank they have an entire scheme and get away with multiple bank robberies and this goes on for MONTHS

Kageyama- We know he’s volleyball smart but otherwise he’s so mfing stupid and I love him for it but he is a chronic shoplifter. Just picks something up and takes it, has walked out of a store without paying for an entire bed set once and got away with it somehow so idk props to him

Hinata- He is the little guy in any heist situation, he fits anywhere so he can sneak in and out the best, he gave himself the stupid ass code name tiny giant but everyone goes with it because somehow he is the best

Tsukishima- armed robbery, but he doesn’t have a gun just a knife like he’s tall and as an attitude, a knife will get him whatever he needs he doesn’t need the gun

Yamaguchi- He runs a catfishing scheme where he pretends to be a naive girl, scams old men out of their money, and then ghosts them and I think it’s what he deserves let him carry on especially because no one would believe it’s him. Also not really like a crime crime but still a crime in a way

Kiyoko- She kills men and I know it, Queen Kiyoko ending the patriarchy one shitty man at a time like she only kills men who deserve it bc some have rights.

Yachi- She’s too anxious to commit an in-person crime so she does a lot of cybercrime, hacking government databases and releasing info to the people, truly the anonymous we deserve

Saeko- She’s running that drug ring with Tanaka, and she loves it because there’s a thrill to it even though yknow she’s dealing literal meth but like its fine plus she loves rocking people’s shit when they get too handsy, which bring me to my next point underground MMA Saeko, like the illegal one with no rules yeah <3

Ukai- this man probably sells all kinda shit to minors that he shouldn’t he is so unbothered a 7-year-old could probably walk in ask for a pack of camels and get them and leave before he noticed what was going on.

Takeda- Did y’all see how scared Hinata was when Takeda gave him that lecture? This dude could kidnap someone and scare them into giving all the information he needed, a legend truly

Aoba Johsai

Oikawa- took steroids one time. And of course in sports, that’s not allowed. But he only did it once and regretted it for months afterward. Never told anyone and was just relieved he didn’t have to piss in a cup and have someone find out.

Matsukawa- Without hesitation, I know this man takes dead people’s bones and sells them on the internet. Has dubbed himself the bone man and he feels so much power when someone buys a femur or sumn. It’s kinda funny honestly he has a hoard of bones to sell, his fave is the pelvis.

Hanamaki- He’s in between jobs because he stole money from his last job, like he said he was sorry he just needed a little extra for gas but was sad to find out that’s a literal crime and he was laundering money.

Iwaizumi- he’s a street racer, like the fast and furious style and it’s so sexy of him like late-night races ugh to be in an expensive fast car with him where he has one hand on my thigh okay that’s enough of that.

Kunimi- Look me in the eye and tell me he does not do drugs. He does and if you don’t believe me you are wrong and I will fight you on this one.

Kyotani- If there is a crime he will commit it for fun. Like he will do it with no hesitation. He has a record longer than twilight and I’m not sure how he is not in prison actually nvm he escaped and is a wanted criminal lol

Shiritorizawa

Ushijima- Assault, he just reeks of getting into bar fights when he’s absolutely wasted. Like he most likely didn’t start it but he will be finishing it

Tendou- grave robbing, he just goes into the cemetery picked the oldest plots, and gets to digging. Has made thousands on dead people jewelry and probably won’t get caught, like besides the groundskeeper there’s no security he will never stop.

Semi- he breaks copyright laws on the daily. He’s sampling music in his all the time but he’s doing it so sneakily it’s fine its what deserves stream his band on Spotify right now,

Shirabu- His bangs are criminal enough. No, but he has stolen drugs from the hospital before he just wanted to try the Xanax, and yeah he could just write himself a prescription for it nut like it’s so easy to just go get some and no report it so that’s what he did.

Goshiki- y’all want me to say arson don’t you?? Fine. He commits arson multiple times and kills 7 people with fire before getting arrested and he doesn’t even feel bad so in prison he probably fucking runs a gang he is crazy.

Nekoma

Kuroo- he is a capitalist and class traitor and that’s crime enough I don’t care is he’s attractive or rich, He commits crimes daily by just existing but I still love him anyway.

Kai- Could not commit a crime he just wants to garden and live his life. Jk there’s at minimum one body in that garden let him kill a man he deserves it just let him have one dead body

Yaku- he keyed someone’s car once just because they pissed him off. Was it kuroo? Yes. But that’s fine because he also keyed Lev’s car but blamed lev for keying kuroo’s and Kuroo for keying Lev’s. He just wants to watch the world burn.

Kenma- cyberbullying but man he is mean. Like no bars held we will dig into every insecurity he can and that shit hurts and he doesn’t even feel bad about it he will just be as mean as he can if you’re not careful

Lev- his crime is being tall and dumb also doesn’t understand the economy and prints counterfeit money because why can’t we print more money? The government should get on that.

Inuoka- He released all the animals from a zoo, like snuck in one night and just let them all free, I’m surprised the tiger didn’t eat him but hey the animals are free, there’s still some missing uh oh he’s very proud of himself for it. After the rush, he starts sneaking into shelters and freeing all the dogs and cats

Yamamoto and Fukunaga- Have egged a house before, it was Kuroo’s he deserves all this bullying and you can’t stop me.

Date Tech

Aone- Criminal Conspiracy, sure he had an entire foolproof plan to get away with the perfect crime but someone found out, and now his plans are ruined, damn </3 and no one ever suspects the quiet guy either.

Futakuchi- Having a prostitute, he just wanted some company like mans is lonely so he paid a girl to just spend a Lil time with him it’s all good.

Fukurodani

Bokuto- I know we all haha funny laugh at tax evader bokuto and sure maybe he evades his taxes but he’s also committed vehicular manslaughter, he cannot drive and has killed someone with his car maybe even multiple someones but he always drives off in a panic because he doesn’t know what else to do.

Akaashi- Hasn’t actively committed a crime but has been an accomplice in every vehicular manslaughter Bokuto has committed why the fuck does he keep letting bokuto drive? He really needs to stop that.

Konoha- A master scammer he is so convincing everyone gives him money even if they’re a little sus because he’s just that good each scheme is so convincing.

Inarizaki

Kita- He grows weed, you can’t tell me those rice fields are just for rice he’s got all this space he is growing marijuana and selling it, let him do it I want him to be my plug.

Atsumu- "What is my perfect crime? I break into Tiffany's at midnight. Do I go for the vault? No, I go for the chandelier. It's priceless. As I'm taking it down, a woman catches me. She tells me to stop. It's her father's business. She's Tiffany. I say no. We make love all night. In the morning, the cops come and I escape in one of their uniforms. I tell her to meet me in Mexico, but I go to Canada. I don't trust her. Besides, I like the cold. Thirty years later, I get a postcard. I have a son and he's the chief of police. This is where the story gets interesting. I tell Tiffany to meet me in Paris by the Trocadero. She's been waiting for me all these years. She's never taken another lover. I don't care. I don't show up. I go to Berlin. That's where I stashed the chandelier."

Osamu- resisting arrest. He just said no and ran. Granted he shouldn’t have punched the cop in the first place to have to be arrested but like that’s not the point here.

Aran- accidental child abandonment, like he just forgot he was babysitting and left the kid alone for like a day. He felt terrible but he still forgot the kid and now is fearful of parenthood

Suna- owns an illegal weapon, like he just never registered it and keeps it around and would use it if needed Suna please just point the weapon at me maybe

Others

Terushima- Graffiti, he loves painting on the walls of buildings and tagging them, has so much spraypaint and his day isn’t complete if he doesn’t tag at least one building or train car.

Daishou- Public intoxication- he got a little too fucked up and stripped on the street he will forever have to live with everyone knowing he has an ass tattoo like damn bruh

Sakusa- Perjury he simply wanted to get out of court so he said some shit so he could leave granted he lied under oath but whatever, did they ever find out? No, so he’s fine and he’d do it again if it meant he could leave faster. Like sure he was a witness to a murder but bruh he pretends he does not see.

Hoshihumi- driving without a license he simply thought you didn’t need one because why do you need a piece of plastic to say you can drive a car like??? Just know how to drive it.

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caffeinated-chaos-bean · 3 years

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Mid-2021 Blog Update

Hey guys.

So... It’s been a while. Quite a while... and I want to lay some things out as to why I’ve been gone and the blog has practically been dead in the water for half a year, if not for a whole year.

I want you to know that what I’m going to say will be in heavy detail. I’m comfortable speaking on it, and what information doesn’t just include me will be using either public details that I know I can share or will be put in a short and sweet manner.

This is your trigger warning: If you need to click off or scroll past due to the mention of extremely bad mental health, toxic relationships and households, the mention of depression, anxiety, and suicidal thoughts, please do so now.

. . .

First off, I’ve lessened the amount of time I’ve been online due to my mental health. I was put on antidepressants as well as told to take anti-anxiety gummies in November and will be weaned off of those starting this October. A lot of my family and relationship drama on top of the world practically shutting down and going into chaos thanks to COVID-19 just took a major toll on me. With so much on my shoulders, stress from living with said things on my shoulders, unsupportive family members, and an emotionally distant partner, I was at one of the lowest points in the life. I’d never had to be on mood-related medication in my life until last November. I’d always been able to handle what was thrown at me, but mid- to late-2020 was what knocked me down that low for the first time in my life. Suicidal thoughts came and went (they weren’t often, only when I couldn’t bottle my emotions up any longer but didn’t have a way to express them either), but even when they did, I knew that it was just in my head. I never once chose to act on them, because to me, that is not a way to solve a problem or escape your inner demons. All it does it put your personal suffering onto those around you -- your friends, family, and those who cared about you even when you don’t see it -- and it doesn’t do anyone any good. When my doctor asked me about suicide, that’s the very explanation I gave her. Yes, they happened, but I’d never act on them; it’s not a way out and it puts your pain onto others and only worsens the situation for the long-term.

Aside from that, though... I move on to other personal reasons for my absence that helped trigger what was mentioned above. Mid-August of 2019, my then fiancé's mother was murdered by two 17yr old boys of whom she and their family knew. Going off the information that was made public, one boy had mixed meth with marijuana prior to the killing. He claimed that my fiancé’s mother mouthed off and made a derogatory comment about his deceased mother, thus sparking the incident. While he claims to have only stabbed her once, the autopsy report shows that her head/face and upper torso were “hacked, slashed, and chopped” repeatedly with “various sharp, bladed objects”. Not only did they murder her, the two individuals also set the grass around her body on fire along with her home. When we found out about this having happened, I had no idea how bad it would have turned my relationship upside-down. My now ex-fiancé didn’t come from a great childhood, there was abuse and CPS, among other things. But he had managed and was a good person. He could make me laugh and tear up at his jokes, sang beautifully, and did everything to make those around him happy. When he lost his mom, it broke him. It shattered his very being, because not only did he know the two who caused it to happen, he also was unable to reconcile and make amends with his mother for what he went through as a child. He was robbed of being able to forgive and be on good terms with her, and it broke him. He stopped communicating with family, he took bereavement after being pulled from work by family the day it was confirmed to be his mother only to to fired 3 months down the line when he tried to go back (fuck Walmart for that btw), and was slowly becoming a hypochondriac. He stopped talking to me, he would cry in his sleep, and grief made him lash out as was expected. But as the days dragged on, his motivation and care towards finding a new job dwindled. He and my mother would fight endlessly and I was caught in the middle of it, as we all were in one household. There were times in which I would keep my phone on my leg and record for my own personal documentation should I need it due to how bad my own mother would belittle me, belittle my ex behind his back, and just scream and go off. When I’d turn to my ex for comfort, he wasn’t much help due to his own deteriorating mental health. He took to discord, specifically the Vampire the Masquerade community, as his escape from reality. He eventually would hardly talk to me at all, show no compassion, and at times I tried to speak with him about getting a new job or suggesting part-time ones that I felt would be easy and as stress-free as possible for him, I would be shooed away without a word; if I tried to further my attempt to have the conversation, he eventually got an attitude and would just say “Bye!” over and over again while shooing with his hand to get me to leave. There were many days where I’d get off work and sit in the bathroom for an hour and cry because of my frustration and how I felt stuck between two people I cared about deeply (ie. my ex and my mother).

My ex has since moved out and no longer lived with us. He and I are no longer together, and he has cut off all communication to me along with his family. He isn’t living in California anymore, really. He met up with discord friends and is in another state. That’s the last I heard from him. That’s the last his family heard. He doesn’t talk to us or attempt to reach out or respond when his family reaches out. I still very much care about him and want him to get better, but if he has to do so by being away from everyone, then so be it.

While I was letting - or shutting out, rather - the emotions I was feeling once he officially moved out, I relapsed with my anxiety tick; with my trichotillomania. I have a good number of smaller, thinned out spots in my hair from unconsciously pulling out strands of hair when my emotions didn’t know how to regulate. I’m still fighting to get this under control, as I do still catch myself doing it and so does my mother. It currently is not as bad as when my ex first moved out and I had to adjust back into sleeping alone and without someone next to me, but I do still pull. I am looking into trying to get my sister to order me a HabbitAware bracelet for me this Christmas in order to help get my tick back under control. I know its something I will live with forever and go in and out of doing, as there is no cure or medication to curb trichotillomania, but its something to help me be more aware of how often I do pull and to train it to no longer be a muscle memory response.

Most recently, I’ve had to stop taking melatonin. I’ve had bouts of insomnia since my ex left, and eventually I took enough melatonin to not only build an immunity to it but also a slight dependence. I was taking more than I should have been, and I noticed the signs of it and have stopped taking melatonin altogether. Due to this, I have switched to hempseed oil gummies. I take 2 before bed and they have helped wonderfully. But, due to how easy it was for me to become dependent on melatonin, I do plan to take brief breaks from the gummies to avoid a similar situation. I also do not plan on seeking an insomnia medication due to the same reasons. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I knew i was becoming addicted, and due to this I do not wish to risk it happening with a prescription sleep medication. I will deal with my bouts of insomnia as they come.

I also am conquering my insecurities towards others knowing I am a fan of Michael Jackson; a moonwalker. In elementary school (5th grade, 2009), I went through a heavy obsessive phase when he passed. I’d never heard of him, and when I listened to his music that firs time I was instantly hooked. I was ridiculed at school after I performed “Thriller” during a talent show; I had classmates going as far as saying that I must want him to kidnap and r*pe me if I enjoyed his music so much. I didn’t understand the gravity of those comments back then the way that I do now that I’m 23, but I still knew to an extent that what they were saying was in now way a good thing. I shut out his music from mid-6th grade all the way until this year. I hadn’t listened to a single song aside from hearing “Thriller” on the radio during October. For my birthday this year, I had a friend take me out of town and get away for a day. The entire time, she surprised me by playing hours of his music when in the car with her. It has since reopened that connection to his music and I’ve been listening to his songs with a fresh take, with the mind of an adult who can comprehend his words and understand finally what he’s saying for each song. As such, I’ve become more comfortable with others knowing I’m a moonwalker. You can have your opininos of the man, you can choose to believe the tabloids and junk media or make your own conclusions after assessing the details and documents of his life, but I will enjoy the same freedom of opinion.

I know this is getting pretty long, but I wanted to fill those who still might be checking up on this blog for any sort of update or spec of life coming from it in on what’s practically killed the blogs for a good chunk of time.

I do plan to slowly start doing stuff again after Halloween. I have a video made that I plan to post for Halloween and I look forward to letting Kikumi and the others be open for asks again. Until then, may the wind guide you all. I hope everyone can have a safe and wonderful rest of August. I will see you in October.

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mj-spooks · 3 years

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So, we got Happy Parker on drugs. Do we consider Nate to be an angry drunk? How is the rest of the leverage crew when they're drunk/stoned?

So in my (limited) experience drunk and stoned are vastly different and even moreso depending on the drug you do and sometimes on the alcohol you do (tequila Mia is not the same as whiskey-or-rum Mia, alright). I’ve only ever had a single edible in terms of drugs really but I have a lot of friends and co-workers (I work in food service okay everyone in food service either drinks, does drugs, or both). Prescription drugs are also pretty different from recreational drugs, so. Point being, I’m gonna share thoughts on both drunk and stoned, with little caveats where I can picture specific scenarios.

I think Nate definitely qualifies an angry drunk but, like, a quiet simmering anger til it boils over. I can picture certain members of the crew trying to get him stoned to calm him tf down, probably via edibles (gee I wonder who I mean) and I think it might work, but I also think he’d be pissed about it when he sobered up because he doesn’t want to be calm. He lives on that simmering rage. I can see him having tried pot in college but I doubt he liked it much. I cannot see him ever having chosen to try anything else, tbh. He’s too straightlaced. I think it would remind him of the sorts of things his dad got up to.

Parker was specifically on drugs designed to more or less do what they did, good on the doctors I guess for getting lucky and giving her the right stuff even if the dosage seemed like Too Much. Drunk Parker would probably be the same giggly affectionate mess, if you could get her that drunk. Hardison and Eliot probably could, Sophie definitely could. I think Eliot could get her to try edibles but I think she wouldn’t like it because she wants to Stay Sharp, I also see her as a candidate who would get anxious on it tbh. I don’t think the others would try to get her to do anything else in case she had a bad trip. She’s delicate.

Eliot has done the most drugs. Why? He cooks. I know I said “who works food service” but you know what, Eliot counts even if he’s never worked it formally before the bar, alright. However, he’s super critical of what drugs he does, he might’ve dabbled in prescription drugs here and there (he has PTSD okay), but I see him mostly as a guy who does natural drugs. He’s shy of hallucinogenics but he’s done them a couple of times because he got goaded into it, alright, he’s got an ego and he’s not about to let the fear of a bad trip make him wimp out. He was an idiot and did them alone, because he didn’t want to risk hurting someone if he did have a bad trip, and figured nobody would care if he died anyway. Lucky him, it wasn’t a bad trip, but he didn’t care for it. He supposes he sees the appeal, but it’s not for him. Eliot mostly uses the drugs and alcohol to shut his own brain up, because it’s loud in there and he needs some peace and quiet to stay sane. And in case you didn’t pick it up, yes he makes edibles, he makes the best edibles in fact, though he doesn’t do it often.

Hardison has not done as many drugs as Eliot only because he knows Nana would absolutely kick his ass (and maybe a little bit because he doesn��t need to dull his senses to relax the same way). He’s smoked pot because of course he has, tried some hallucinogenics and kinda dug it, but that’s like, a special occasion sort of thing. He doesn’t touch the hard stuff because he thinks that if Nana found out about the pot and such she would kick his ass but if she thought he’d tried something else she’d straight up kill him, resurrect him, and kill him again. Drinking, on the other hand. Hardison likes girly drinks, he is unashamed of that fact, and he is basically a Woo Girl, you cannot change my mind. Hardison smoking pot meanwhile is the most stereotypical That 70′s Show Circle Scene you can imagine.

Sophie has mostly experienced drugs while grifting. She tries to fake it, but sometimes she’s being watched too closely. That said, she tends to go for high class cons, so she’s not exactly going around doing meth. I’ll be honest, I think she’s snorted cocaine a couple of times. She’s not really one for pot but she’s not opposed to it. She doesn’t really like drugs though. Alcohol, on the other hand, she likes. Give her a glass of wine or champagne and she’s a happy woman. She’ll drink liquor but she’s picky about it, she likes classy drinks and only uses top shelf anything. I have this hilarious headcanon I’ve mentioned before where I think she gets even more in character if she drinks while grifting, which is a godsend because it means she doesn’t break character and blow her con, and doubles as being absolutely hilarious when it’s certain characters.

#leverage anon #drug mention #alcohol mention

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vmheadquarters · 4 years

Text

We’re still playing our game of written hot potato! Dozens of your favorite authors are taking turns to tell a Veronica Mars mystery story. Each writer crafts their chapter and then “tosses” the story to the next person to continue the tale. No one knows what will happen, so expect the unexpected!

Follow the “vmhq presents” and “murder we wrote” tags for all the installments, or read the story as it develops on AO3. --Chapter Twenty-Three of MURDER, WE WROTE is written by @disdainfullady. And stayed tuned next week for Ch.24 from @artoftalent07 - tag, you’re it!

_____________________________________________________________

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE by @disdainfullady

Veronica turned the page, fascinated despite herself. When Ruby had come stomping into Mars Investigations that morning, Veronica had had to try three of the breathing techniques Logan swore kept him from washing out of OCS before she dared to even acknowledge the girl. Either she wasn’t fighter pilot material, or Ruby was worse than the drill sergeants – MTIs corrected the little Logan voice in her brain – because she could never be sure if those techniques actually helped, or just gave her time to fine tune her sarcasm.

In the year since Carrie’s death, Ruby had found half a dozen excuses to hire Veronica, mostly background checks for potential dates – so far none of them had been kicked out by a pop star’s security for hiding in a closet, but they were keeping hope alive – and one case where she was convinced the couple across the street were running drugs out of their basement. She’d actually been right about that, although Ruby had based her theory on the idea that the couple had far more lawn ornaments than anyone not pushing meth had a right to, and still insisted that that was the big give away.

Veronica never had the heart to turn her away. Sure, she didn’t, they didn’t, strictly need the money, but there was something so earnest about Ruby, despite her off-the-wall conspiracy theories and what seemed like a new obsession every week. It was sometimes hard to remember that Ruby was only a year younger than her - Veronica doubted she'd had half Ruby's enthusiasm and energy even in her all too distant pep squad days. Of course, she probably should aim for a degree or two below manic.

After leaving Veronica three voicemails of escalating urgency about a case she absolutely needed Veronica’s help on, Ruby had shown up at Mars Investigations that morning in full pensive-artist mode complete with glasses that were either fake or a prescription so minor that they might as well be, pages clutched to her chest, announcing that the case in question was that which took place in the novel she had written.

Veronica knew she should have politely declined. Maybe gotten Wallace to have one of his colleagues in the English department give it a read, if her conscience was really bugging her. But it had been a slow week, and she wouldn’t have gone back to being a PI if she’d been able to resist the pull of her curiosity. Nor would Logan forgive her if she wasn’t able to give him a full summary of the entire thing.

And the work was fascinating.

She wasn't sure what impressed her more, the depth of Ruby's research, or her completely scattershot method of applying it. Sure, she'd pulled in most of the obvious players, but there were some deep cuts in here. Lenny? Cole? She was pretty sure Cole's own parents forgot he existed when he wasn't in the room, yet here he was parading all over this mysterious snow ridden island within easy access of Southern California. Actually, she mused, Cole would make a great killer in the traditional way of things. Veronica was always suspicious of named minor characters with no apparent motive.

Unfortunately, it didn't seem like Ruby was a fan of narrative efficiency, so he'd probably just been tossed into the manuscript along with the kitchen sink that she only hoped would be getting its big scene in the next chapter or two.

A chair scraped and she looked up, remembering just in time to wipe the incredulous glee off her face. Ruby Jetson, formerly Della Pugh, literary alias Mistress X, had scooted her seat even closer to Veronica's desk, and was staring at her with an eager intensity. Veronica cleared her throat and the - fortunately wigless - Ruby inched forward even closer, her knee actually bumping the desk.

"Did you get to the part where they discover the island's tragic past?" asked Ruby. The question burst out of her like she’d been holding it in for the past hour.

"Not yet - it has a tragic past?"

"Every mysterious island has a tragic past, Veronica." Ruby's scornful tone was undercut by the restless tapping of her leg.

"Oh of course," Veronica nodded with what she hoped was an appropriately serious expression. "Well, that's something to look forward to, then." And she sort of was. The way Ruby phrased it she rather hoped the island had had a passionate romance with a nearby peninsula only to lose it to - how did you kill a peninsula, soil erosion maybe?

"But as I said earlier, it's going to take me a while to go through all this. You really," really, really, really she thought, "don't need to sit here and watch me read it."

Ruby’s face scrunched in disapproval. “You said that you’d prioritize my case, Veronica Mars.”

Veronica sighed. She steepled her hands as she tried to gently let the girl down. “That was when I thought you had a case. I’m not a literary critic, Ruby.”

Ruby snorted.

“No, but you are a detective, and if I can stump you then I know my story’s good.”

Veronica carefully did not point out the flaws in that particular assertion. “You don’t want it to be too baffling, Ruby. Readers like the satisfaction of clues coming together.”

Ruby, beamed, apparently delighted by this rather commonplace observation. “I knew you wouldn’t figure it out,” she crowed. “I bet you haven’t even grasped the significance of the chocolate.”

Veronica shook her head, even as one corner of her brain started following the trail begun by that breadcrumb. The significance of the chocolate? The number of chocolate martinis that had supposedly been consumed by the party were massive – but she’d been to plenty of 09er events that had better liquor stores than most bars. Was there something to read into that? Oh, that one was going to bother her.

She shook her head. “Ruby, you already revealed your character as the bad guy. There’s nothing to figure out.”

Ruby’s mouth dropped open and she blinked at Veronica in surprise.

“Me? I’m not the bad guy.”

“You’re not?” She’s wasn’t? Oh god, was Ruby supposed to be the heroine? Was Veronica supposed to be rooting for her own comeuppance in this magnum opus of Ruby’s?

“You’re barely halfway through. Do you honestly think that I would give away the real villain that soon?”

Ah. Veronica looked down again at the depressingly large stack of papers in front of her. It hadn’t seemed like this much when she’d started.

Ruby smirked. “Ruby Jetson is merely a red herring.”

“Ah, like communism,” Veronica murmured.

Though she had to point out, “Of course, you are killing people.”

“Madison Sinclair,” Ruby scoffed.

Veronica gave an equivocal head nod, not quite acknowledging the semi-validity of that point.

“And Leo. Should I wonder why you even know Leo?”

Leo had been in San Diego for nearly a decade at this point, and occasional appearances at high school dances in Miami Vice regalia aside, she wouldn’t have thought he’d have had much occasion to cross paths with Ruby.

“I do my research, Veronica.” Ruby gave another one of her smug, knowing expressions. Veronica, no stranger to being smug or knowing herself, sighed inwardly.

“And you didn’t actually see what happened to Leo did you?” Ruby continued. “I mean, sure Lenny took credit, but then he would.”

With neither wealth, nor wit nor charisma, Lenny Sofer had been one of Neptune High’s more determined bullies, a nonentity so frustrated by his lack of status he spent all his time searching for those below him on the ladder, trying to push them down further. Veronica had pretty much forgotten he’d existed the second she’d graduated, as she’d imagined, had most of their class, his chosen victims excluded. Now if Ruby had written some sort of Murder on the Orient Express situation with Lenny as victim, she could probably get behind that.

“Is Lenny Sofer actually your cousin by the way?”

Ruby looked offended by the question. Did she think Veronica had memorized her background the way she, Ruby, had apparently memorized Veronica’s? Ruby did have a flare for investigation, if one could get past the whole bit where she was mildly bonkers.

“Lenny Sofer is a sociopath,” Ruby said, flatly.

That didn’t actually answer the question, Veronica noted.

“He bullied me for two years straight. I had to spend my lunches hiding in that gross bathroom near the physics lab because someone kept putting out of order signs on the good one.”

Veronica’s eyebrows rose. “So, you brought him in as your partner in crime?”

Ruby rolled her eyes. “Again, not actually the bad guy. And his character gets what’s coming to him a little further on.” She smiled, probably going for sinister but ending up on goofy. “Let’s just say that was fun to write.”

Veronica supposed she could understand that. She had always been more about enacting her revenge, but it wasn’t like that didn’t come with its own set of problems. Maybe Ruby’s method was healthier, if a little odd.

She gave a little shrug and settled back to read some more.

#veronica mars #veronica mars fanfic #vm fanfic #vmhq presents #murder we wrote #round robin

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callenennis · 4 years

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Hey so I asked earlier if requests were open. Could you please write a fanfic of Ango & a criminal female s/o. She’d be a drug dealer working for a drug lord (like Jesse Pinkman). She & her drug lord operate under pseudonyms. There‘s an outbreak of deaths from drug addiction in Yokohama and related shootings & Ango has been trying to hunt them down. It’s a cat-mouse game when him & is a/o are together. He’s been oblivious to his s/o’s involvement until he arrives at their meth lab. Thanks! 😊

Firstly, my sincerest of apologies for the late response on this request, I’ve just started college where I live so I’m trying to balance this blog and my schooling. Secondly, thank you so much for the request! I was so excited when I saw it! Thirdly, I’ve never seen Breaking Bad before so I really hope I did Jesse Pickman justice.

Enjoy!

Raise Hell

Synopsis: When a dangerous drug outbreak starts killing the citizens of Yokohama, Ango Sakaguchi is tasked to investigate; unbeknownst that he’s already met with one of the ringleaders, his girlfriend.

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Pairing: Ango Sakaguchi X Female Reader

Genre: Angst, Fanfiction

Warnings: Illegal Drugs, Violence, Swearing, Blood, Bombs, and Death

Rating: 17+

Word Count: 1.9k

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Meth isn’t as terribly difficult to make than most people give it credit for. Most every ingredient can be found with items from your average supermarket for a cheap total, no need for plants or needles, you truly can’t get any easier than that. Once you’ve been in the drug trade from so many years you pick up a few things: One, if you really don’t want to get caught, destroy whatever remnant of your life you had before. Burn anything that would tie you down or be held against you. If you really want to make sure of this, just do what I did, stage your own death. Some type of terrible car accident where the car catches on fire or explodes will do fine. Two, Become a chameleon. The old you is dead and gone forever and you’ll need to blend in with the populous now so no extravagant purchases with your new-found wealth. Which brings us to number Three, hide any and all suspicious amount of money you have, and no, I’m not talking about a stupid shoebox in the closet type shit. I talking under the floorboards before sealing them tight to blend in with the rest of the ground, wooden framework of your furniture, the back of a painting in a frame, false bottoms in drawers, somewhere hidden but accessible in emergencies.

Out of everything I fabricated and lied about there was one thing I couldn’t make up, how much fun it was to keep toying with my boyfriend, Ango Sakaguchi. For over three years we’ve been playing this cat and mouse, having gotten so close to being caught and thrown in prison only made my desire to continue stronger. With each close encounter sending a rush of adrenaline through my body as a devilish smirk would spread across my lips. I know I shouldn’t keep going, I know I should have jumped ship as soon as I heard Ango was investigating the drug-related deaths and shootings that kept growing. Every nerve in my body was shouting, screaming at me to stop will I’m ahead, you don’t have to keep going, you can stop and have a normal 9-5 life with Ango, have a normal life, get married... but I couldn’t. This is all I’ve known for so long, my hands have long been stained with dirty money, long been stained with the chemicals and lives I’ve taken by proxy, I can’t imagine doing anything else. I couldn’t, I’m not leaving Kazuki. We’ve been in this game together for too long, and I intend to see it through to the end. “Hey babe, I gotta run out for a minute and help Hiroshi, okay?” I called out using Kazuki’s alias as I pull my arms through the coat, peaking my head into his office.

Ango hardly looked up from his paperwork, simply humming in response as he continued working on his mound of paperwork. I leaned my body against the doorframe, my eyes softening upon seeing the dark circles forming under his light-colored eyes. Seeing him so overworked and exhausted but still trudging on for the sake of work made me feel awful. Especially now when his desk is littered with crime scene photos, autopsies, and blurry CCTV photos of masked people, people I know, and try to protect all while simultaneously working against them. An unwilling double agent if you will. I quietly walked over to Angos’ hunched over form, placing my hands on his tense shoulder while carefully massaging them. “Ango,” I spoke again softly, “I think you need to take a break.”

“I wish I could,” he answered leaning against the back of his chair, lulling his head back to look at me. I arched my brows in worry upon seeing his face up close: eyes half open, hair slightly tousled, brown kobicha tie disheveled, his thin frames glasses slipping down his nose. “The bad guys are still going to be there tomorrow, babe” I hummed pushing his glasses up, giggling at his bashful face. I placed a loving kiss on his forehead, combing my hands through his hair making him close his eyes and hum. “You’ll be better focused tomorrow, I mean who knows? Maybe they’ll slip up while your sleeping.”

“That’s why I need to keep working,” he argued opening his eyes slightly, struggling to keep them open with each slow blink. I sighed, slightly annoyed at his continued persistence, “Please Ango, it’s not healthy to stay up for so long” I pleaded, wrapping my arms around him in a loving hug. “If you go to sleep now I’ll make you breakfast in the morning” I heard him laugh slightly at my offer. “You know me too well,” I smiled in return, knowing he couldn’t resist my cooking before responding, “You’re not terribly hard to read.” I watched him walk out of his office sluggishly while I cleaned the papers littered across his desk, my eyes catching on an autopsy report. I scanned through the sheet diligently looking at the chemicals found in the victim: Ephedrine, Ammonia, Gasoline, Toluene, Freon- my heart dropped upon reading the final ingredient.

“Son of a bitch” I cursed pulling at my phone, taking a quick picture before hastily packing up the rest of the paperwork. My shoes were hardly tied as I rushed out the door through the labyrinth of back alleys towards the lab while pulling my mask on, busting down the door to Kazuki’s office. His head shot up upon my loud entrance, narrowing his eyes in annoyance as he spat out, “you know damn well how much that door costs.”

“That door’s not gonna mean shit soon, we got a problem” I barked back, my voice slightly muffled though still carrying an authoritarian tone, slamming my fist on his desk. “If it’s about the overdoses we already tweaked the ingredients for a new batch,” he said with a bored tone kicking his feet up, “Our sales will be back to normal by tomorrow.”

“Like that’s gonna do shit, look,” I said pulling up the photo and sliding my phone towards him, “read the chemicals.” His long fingers picked up the photo, carefully reading the words before seeing his eyes expand in shock, “Fuck, that’s-”

“Catecholamine and Tolcapone, and way too much if it” I interrupted looking at his face, knowing that we were thinking the same thing, there’s a spy in our ranks. Swiftly we started scanning through the files on every older member in our group or any younger member with elderly relatives. These aren’t your typical over the counter chemicals you get at the corner store, this is regulated, controlled. Chemicals and drugs found in prescription medications you can’t simply trick a doctor into giving you. With enough Catecholamine and Tolcapne in someone’s body there a ticking time bomb of rage with virtually no impulse control. Mix that with all of the chemicals in meth, and you’ve got an adrenaline run, short-tempered, raging, and homicidal machine who won’t stop until their heart inevitably either explodes or stops altogether. My fingers continued to grow more cramped and sore with each page turn until finally finding it. “Where’s Asuka Miyazaki?” Kazuki’s head shot up so fast I thought he’s broken it, face painted in horror, “the roof!”

We both dashed up the towering flight of stairs at breakneck speed, as I lagged behind with each tripping over my own half tied shoes; letting Kazuki rush passed me like lightning up several flights, bursting through the door. Before I could take another step to join him I froze, taking a deep breath, smelling something... off. I couldn’t quite place it for a moment trying to find the right words. BO? Sewer Water? Burned-out matches? My blood ran freezing cold upon realizing the smell, rotten eggs. Methane gas. That son of a bitch is gonna blow the whole Ward sky high! My body took over before my mind could, bare feet leaping down each landing and step, feeling my ankle twist and snap once jumping onto the ground floor. I bit my lip, fighting back the grueling pain and urge to curse with each step towards the emergency alarm. I need to keep going. If I can pull it the alarm the sprinklers should help rid any gas or flames. One more, I screamed at myself, just one more-

The moment my fingers brushed against the alarm the building came to life with overwhelming heat and flame, I pulled the alarm just seconds later though it did nothing against the rapidly growing inferno. The following explosions’ shockwave hurled me through the lab walls like a freshly sharpened knife to paper; before I was slammed into something hard, knocking the wind out of me before crashing to the ground. Desperately I gasped for air, feeling my broken ribs stab into my lungs with each breath. My right eye struggled to keep open and see through my mask, my vision blurred and distorted with each moment. The only sound I heard was the deafening ringing in my ears as summoning any remaining strength to flip over to my chest; my ribs further stabbing into my lungs. I outstretched my right arm attempting to pull myself up, seeing the deep gashes littered with shards of glass and rubble bleed profusely onto the ground. The sight itself nearly made me vomit. As the ringing in my ears cleared I heard the muffled sound of breaking glass and footsteps come closer before stopping near me. I craned my head painfully towards the sound, only to find myself peering down the barrel of a gun I’d never dreamed of being on the other end of.

Angos’ gun. Cocked and loaded, his finger itching to pull the trigger and end my life right there. I could feel his harsh glare on me, reflecting all of the pent up emotions he’d been harboring for months: rage, frustration, loathing, murder, all shooting through his veins. A moment of suffocating tension mixed in the air with smoke and iron. “Who are you?” Ango asked, pure venom dripping from each word uncharacteristically, it was terrifying. His sharp glare burning into my skin hotter than the flames around us, the feeling of defeat finally creeping into my broken bones. As if on cue, the white theater mask covering my face feel onto the rubble littered ground like a loud clattered, exposing my bloodied and bruised face.

Ango’s eyes widened in disbelief, his once steady hand holding the gun now beginning to shake as his mind tried to piece together what he was seeing. His lover—the one he trusted more than anyone else—and the two drug lords he’d been hunting. They can’t be the same, they couldn’t be. I could see he didn’t want to believe it, it’s not possible, I’ve been so loving, so kind, there’s no way she would never be apart of this. But he couldn’t deny it, with each moment that passed the more I saw the gears in his head click. Every unanswered question, botched raid, failed trap, all of the missing pieces coming together. My unexpected errand runs, late nights out, surprise visits to Hiroshi, no, The Jesters place. It lined up perfectly. But there was still one question he wanted to know, need to know. “Why?” he spoke, voice barely above a whisper, salty tears threatened to run down his cheeks, an expression of unfathomable hurt and betrayal painting his face. Before he could speak another word, my head fell against the cement ground, vision fading to black as I steadily suffocated on my blood. With my final breath, I choked out the answer...

“For... him... For... Kazu...ki”

#writing request #bungou stray dogs #bungou stray dogs angst #bsd x reader #bsd #bsd fanfic #bsd Ango #ango sakaguchi #requests are open #bsd headcanons #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines

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marvinhasadhd · 4 years

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Okay, so I got my prescription about two weeks ago and since then I have already tried Ritalin a few times.

I started with half a pill (so 5mg) and didn’t feel anything. My doctor advised me to do my next attempt on the next day, but I am chronically bad at listening to medical professionals, so I tried a whole pill (or 10mg) on the afternoon of the same day I tried the first one.

I decided to take it, because our work had been cancelled (I currently work as a security at events which are hosted by our city) and so someone had to wait until the security who worked the night shift arrived. I really need the money, so I volunteered to sit around for a few hours and I decided to take the full pill and try reading for a bit, as thats something where I often struggle with being inattentive and getting distracted by just about everything.

And it kinda helped. I just sat down and read for over an hour without looking at my phone or getting distracted in any other way. I used to read a lot as a child, but since the age of 12-13 I slowly stopped reading as much because I could rarely ever focus on the book for longer times, so reading became a bit frustrating, as I now took days, weeks or sometimes even months to finish books which would have taken me hours when I was younger (one of my biggest achievements as a child was that I finished the whole HarryPotter-Series in just one weekend).

So yeah, that was a nice experience. I tried it again two days later, as I wanted to try studying for university, but this time I tried 1,5 pills (so 15mg) and I didn’t feel much difference to the 10mg. I still couldn’t quite focus on the stuff I had to learn and I kept getting distracted by things around me, especially by the clutter on my desk. I really felt the need to do something about that and so I cleaned my desk. And once my desk was finally free of everything that didn‘t belong there, I cleaned the floor, the kitchen, the bathroom, I did my laundry and I collected all the cat toys and also cleaned all the places my cats like to hang out in of their hair. Once that was done, I tried to learn again and I noticed that I could focus a bit better, but most importantly I noticed that I just managed to keep my focus on doing a cleaning of the whole flat without making any breaks to watch youtube or check twitter or anything. I didn’t even think about my phone, while I did all that. That was kinda crazy, as just about everyone who knows me would describe me as a perfect example of a smartphone-addicted person.

The next day, I tried to learn again and I took two whole pills (aka 20mg or the maximum dosis my doctor allowed me to do before I visit her again) and I noticed that while I could actually focus better, I would also focus very strongly on anything that distracted me. I found one of my cats toys (a self-made mouse) had been ripped and while I was already trying to focus on learning, I just had to get my sewing kit and repair the mouse before I could even think about anything else. So my focus became much better, but also I would focus very strongly on any possible distraction.

The next day my girlfriend arrived and so I didn‘t take Ritalin for a few days, as I know that she isnt too big of a fan of it (that one Netflix-documentary apparently made Ritalin seem like its pure crystal meth) and also I think I shouldn’t need stimulants to be able to focus on my girlfriend. I love her and I always try to give her my fullest attention, so I let the pills in my medicine-cabinet.

Once she was gone again (she has a summer-job in another state, so we only see each other for a few days each week), I tried studying again and so I took two pills in the morning, cleaned my whole learning environment before the effects kicked in and then I actually was able to focus nicely on cell-biology. And ya know, what can I say about that except „The mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell“?

Later that day, when the effects already had worn off, I noticed that I also experienced the so-called rebound effect (=symptoms being a bit stronger than usual once the effects of the medication wore off), but as I wanted to continue studying, I decided to take two more pills. So I went to the bathroom, took one, noticed that I had to clean the cat-toilet, cleaned it, forgot that I had already taken one and took two. So I was at 3 whole pills or 30mg of Methylphenidate, which was 1,5 times the maximum dose my doctor told me to take. And then I remembered that I had made plans with a friend to come over and catch up, as we hadn’t seen each other since the whole pandemic started.

So yeah, once he arrived two hours after my accidental intake of 3 pills, I was really focused on what he said and I must say, I felt a mental clarity I usually never felt in normal situations. I also felt a bit more energetic than usual and I experienced the suppressed appetite (which apparently is a rather common side-effect) much stronger than I did with lower doses. Besides that my head felt very warm and I noticed that my pulse was much stronger, so I put on my old smart-watch, just so I could regularly check my pulse (it was constantly over 90, when my usual average it between 60 and 70). Also I told him about my medication and the dosage I had taken, so if I experienced anything bad (the high pulse made me a bit anxious about that) he could inform a doctor. But yeah, nothing bad happened and for two hours we just talked about a lot of things and I just really listened to what he said, which was nice, as I‘m someone who often gets lost in thought while people talk to me, and being able to focus on what he said without getting distracted made me feel like I managed to be a better friend than I‘m usually am.

But nothing lasts forever and so once the effects wore off (took about 4,5 hours) I really couldn’t focus on stuff and I really felt the effects come back much stronger than they usually are. Luckily he is a pretty understanding dude, so he suggested that we just cook until I felt a bit better, which was quite nice, as my appetite also came back and I remembered that I hadn’t eaten anything that day. So we cooked and just played with the cats until I felt a bit better. I noticed that playing with the cats made me quite a bit calmer - maybe it’s the dopamine-boost my tiny fluffy boys give me, or maybe I just overinterpret something. Idk.

(Short break. I know, this post is already pretty long and as it’s about ADHD, I assume that some people reading this also have it. If you managed to read this that far, I‘m really amazed and I really thank you for your attention. Also I made this another text-style, so if you want to take a short break, you could find this spot easier. If you have any tips on how to write so that it’s more suitable for ADHDers to read, please feel free to send me a message, as I would really like it, if I could improve my writing so that my posts are easier to read for other people. Also I promise that this post will be finished soon.)

Okay, so lets continue: once the friend was gone, I washed the dishes, cuddled the cats and went to sleep. Or at least I tried to do so. I just couldn’t fall asleep. It was really impossible for me to close my eyes without having my brain full of thoughts that would keep me awake. I tried to put in calming music, as that helped me to fall asleep back when I was in school, but that didn’t work. I tried to make myself a nice sleeping-environment by putting on nice sounds to pretend that I‘m on the Hogwarts express (I used ambient-mixer for that) and lit small fairy lights, but that also didn’t help. I tried to do a brain-dump and wrote down all the thoughts that kept me awake, but that also didn’t help much. I tried to read all these thoughts out to my cats and talk about all the feelings I had that were linked to the thoughts, but that also didn’t help. (Also the cats kinda decided to run around and play catch after I talked to them for a few minutes. I think they have about the same attention span as I do). At about 5:30 in the morning my girlfriend texted me because she just got up to go to work and I was still awake to answer her. So yeah, at about 6 in the morning I fell into a very light sleep and I can tell you, working a 7 hour shift after that wasn’t fun. So a nice advice of mine: don’t do a higher dose than your doctor allowed you at 6 in the afternoon. Or generally. Listen to your doctors, chances are they know what they are talking about.

And here’s finally the last experience I wanna write about: Today I woke up at 8 and decided that I will use my day productively to learn. So ensured that my desk and everything around it was nice and clean and then I took two pills. And guess what. Now it’s half past 10 and I spent the last 1,5 hours focusing really intensely on writing a tumblr-post about my experiences with Ritalin because I remembered that I wanted to write such a post and I couldn’t focus on anything else while I had this thought. So yeah. Overall I really like the effects it has on me, as I didn’t experience any bad side-effects by now and it really helps me focus, but now I also know that maybe I should make a check-list of things I want to have done before I take it, as these things could be mayor distractions down the line.

I hope these reports could be interesting or helpful to someone out there, but always remember: the experiences of different people can vary vastly, so always remember that such meds can have very different effects on you or people you know. Always consult a doctor or pharmacist if you have medical questions and always remember that taking meds or not doing so is both completely valid, as long as it fits for you.

If you made it this far, I really wanna thank you for taking the time and focus to read this and I hope you found it to be at least somewhat interesting. Feel free to text me if you want to talk about your own experiences, ask questions, give criticism on the way I write or just ask for pictures of my cats. I hope you have a really nice day and yeah. I‘ll post again once something post-worthy happens or a topic which I think to be deserving of a post comes to my mind.

#adhd #adhd story #adhd university #adhd stuff #adhd things #adhd inattentive #adhd meds #adult adhd #adhd problems #adhd post #ritalin #methylphenidate

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heir-of-the-founders · 4 years

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Hi im going to rant for a minute

Sorry, it seems like the more time i have to think abt stuff, the more i remember from my childhood and the more i hate my mother.

(Tw drugs, prescription drugs, recreational drugs, misuse of prescription drugs, bad parents, excessive cursing)

Ok so, basically, my mom and i agree that its pretty plausible that i have adhd. Like, we had a discussion abt it. Bc i realized i really clicked with a lot of adhd stuff, so i brought it up to her, and we had a small discussion, and she agreed with me. Except. She already knew. Like. She been knew. For a while.

Basically, the essentials of the convo were this:

Me: hey mom, ive been looking into some stuff, and i think i might have adhd

Mom: yea i kinda figured

Me: oh really? Then why havent you dine anything about it or brought it up before now?

My moms reply was essentially this: well, if i brought it up, then i would feel really guilty about not getting you tested, and if you got tested and you DO have it, i know youd need meds, so id feel too guilty about nkt getting you meds, but i dint want you on adhd meds because i think youll "enjoy it too much"

Yea. The 'enjoy it too much' bit is quoted too, btw.

So, basically, she tried to justify that by explaining that my sisters friend has adhd and shes on meds and has been, and when shes not on meds she gets really weird and kinda obsessed with getting them back and she doesnt want me to be like that. Like???? Like yea, micro meth dose, fine, but like- Ok mom, its not like youre a stoner, and its totally not like my sister actually did meth when she was a teenager or that youve involuntarily subjected me to tobacco my entire life. And its totally not like you still pop non prescription xanax sometimes.

But yea, me wanting to try /medically approved prescription medication/ to help with my possible /mental disorder/ is totally the same thing. Its also not like 90% of our fights are because i physically cant make myself do stuff bc of executive dysfunction which is a fucking adhd thing you fucking nut.

Like she literally told me to my fucking face that she knew theres something wrong with my brain and knew that its probably bad enough that id need meds, and she knew that i fucking hate everything about my fucking brain but no, i cant have meds to help with that shit because ill fucking enjoy it too much.

Like, she literally knows that i have trouble in class bc i cant fucking focus half the time, and shes always getting on my ass about my grades and then turns around and deliberately reduces my ability to function in a classroom setting. Like what the fuck???

Also, im like 90% sure my brother has autism. Like actually. I don't really know how to explain it, but the more that i learn about autism and its symptoms, the more i think my brother is autistic. It could be something entirely different, i could be reading everything wrong, i dunno. Im not a professional. Bu ill eat my left shoe if my brother is neurotypical. And ya know what?? Thats never been addressed. Ever.

And like? My mom didnt fucking hesitate to get me on depression and anxiety meds. Like what the fuuuuuuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.

Why. Why is she fucking like this. Even if i git tested and didnt get meds, we couldve set shit up at school so i can have an easier time. Shit is fucking hard. Its always gonna be hard. But she refused to let me make it easier because she didnt want to feel fucking guilty. Like what the fuck??? And honestly, if she doesnt feel guilty for half the shit shes done to me in the last 10 years, then fuck her. Fuck. Her. She put me through so much shit for no reason. Aaaghhhh.

Gods i hate me mother. Fuck her.

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foxxygold-blog · 5 years

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South Park High School Jokester

Chapter ~ 2

Deciding to take up on the boys offer to show you around town, you sent a quick text to your mother saying you were going to be out later than planned. She sent you a quick text back, usual ‘k’ with a little heart emoji. Smiling softly, you left the message on read before hitting the power button to lock your phone before shoving it in your pocket and rejoining in the conversation and walk with the boys.

“To be honest, most of the town is shit. However, the people in it make the place, a little less shitty? I don’t know how to explain that any better,” Stan muttered. He rubbed the back of his neck before giving a nervous chuckle.

“Fuck the town, let’s talk about you. You just moved here the other day and scared the shit outta Butters and his parents and creeped us out today. Is that something you do often?” Kenny questioned, looking at you with what could only assume was some kind of smile underneath his winter clothes.

“Well, here’s the thing. Warning, I’m probably about to overshare because I don’t know how to just stop talking about my personal life, ya know? Okay so like, I don’t know. My first thought was, let’s make a great first impression! And then my mind switched to, lets fuck with them if they like mom enough then surely they’d come back. I don’t know, it’s a thing my anxiety does is it’s like, don’t do this thing, they’ll hate you for it, but then my meds are like ‘who fucking cares do it anyway and make a GREAT TIME out of it’ because we only live once you know? Oh, I think I over shared again,” you paused. You could practically feel the cold sweat beginning to form on your back, what if they cared about you having anxiety and thought you were weird.

“Oh okay, that’s cool. Well, if you need anyone to talk to you with your anxiety that is, Stan and I would probably be the best to come too,” Kyle smiled. You sighed, managing to relax and nodded your head, thankful they’d be willing to hear you out if you actually had a problem.

“So yeah, I just thought, what could be the best way to scare the shit out of almost everyone, and by almost I mean Butters and his family for a fact, and my mother a little. She mostly gets mad. I was like yes, the squid hat for a fact, and my prop bongs. I’m not actually a drug user, you know, save form the average users over the counter prescription meds, but I don’t do heroin, meth, weed, or anything along those lines. I’m a good child of the lord,” you laughed, “so I set up my speakers as quick and started playing some anime opening that had become a meme in recent years and played the ear rape version, it felt like the whole house had an orgasm. You should know Kenny, the one that has people looking like they’re having a seizure.”

Kenny sent you a finger gun with a nod of his head, indicating he knew exactly what you were talking about. As the entire group of you walked around the neighborhood and you were introduced to most of the boy’s families, it wasn’t long until a group of girls ran up to the group. You couldn’t help but feel nervous; wow all those girls were pretty. You watched them all talking to almost all the boys save for Cartman before the black haired girl in purple looked at your and smirked at Stan.

“New lover already?” You felt confused, before laughing.

“No, I mean. No offense Stan, good looking guy, sure anyone would suck your dick,” you patted his shoulder as his face turned red, “but I’m the new kid in town. I apparently scared the innocent boy named Butters when he and his family came over the other day and all these lovely people came over to see if he was lying. Jokes on them, he wasn’t. I’m kinda weird, just gonna say that now so you can bully me to my face, and not behind my back.”

The girl looked confused before smiling nervously.

“Dear, all of South Park is weird. You’re probably gonna fit in, and I doubt any of me or my girls will bully you. How come you didn’t tell me about the new kid? You’re practically smothering them, why not have girl time with us,” the black haired girl held out her hand.

“Wendy, we invited and ran into them first.”

“Yeah, but we got too them second, and second has always been the best since elementary school,” the blondie beside Wendy spoke up.

“Fine, we’ll just do some introductions now and some later. Tomorrow is the last day of break, so Token is having a party at his place. Everyone who is here right now is me, Wendy Testaburger, the blonde girl next to me is Bebe Stevens, the brunette is Heide Turner, and there’s plenty of later we’ll introduce you too once school starts. Or,” she dragged on. She slowly turned to look at Stan before he cursed silently to himself.

“Wendy, we got told we couldn’t come over due to what happened at last times party.”

“Well, maybe new kid can be your way in,” Bebe questioned.

“I have a name and it’s (y/n) thank you.” You interjected with a small raise of your hand, not exactly enjoying being called the new kid.

“Shit, you may be onto something,” Cartman declared while smacking one fist into his other open palm.

“What the hell are you talking about Fatass?” Kyle sighed, rubbing his forehead in irritation as if a headache was about to form.

“We take (y/n) over to Tokens place; use them as our slave to get in. Make it a bargain. We’ll give you someone to help you do work tomorrow if you let us come party at your place.”

“That seems a bit harsh to use (y/n) as a pawn in a skeem when they haven’t even been here for more than a week!”

“Actually,” you spoke, kicking at the floor, “I wouldn’t mind, it means I don’t have to touch my room and I’ll get to see new people.”

Everyone looked at you a bit surprised, Kyle almost looked at you with pleading eyes as if to say you shouldn’t even open your mouth and agreed to his stupid plan. Cartman shouted happily in joy and declared to the girls who had run into them that they’d all be at the party. You sent your mom a quick text, letting her know your plans for tomorrow. You explained to her in simple text format that you were going to help new friends set up a party, which wasn’t exactly a lie, or the total truth of your situation! So things should surely work out.

The girls parted on their way only after making sure you would take part in the party yourself, have some drinks and dance with them and meet more of their gal pals. Butters, wanting no part in the current plan, though promised to be at the party, departed on his way home with the excuse of last-minute winter break homework. The other four pulled you off and dragged you toward Kyles house and into his large car. You screeched as you went running, crying “GUN” before running, causing some of the boys to freeze and even drop to the floor. You smirked as you easily hopped into the shotgun seat and stick out your tongue.

“Shotgun that is,” you hummed. Stan, Kenny, and Cartman all glared at you while you just smiled happily like a little kid who had not done a single thing wrong. Kyle just chuckled to himself before hopping into the driver’s seat and starting up his car. Kenny and Stan decided to sit together in the back while allowing Cartman all the space in the middle by himself. After everyone was buckled in, Cartman got dangerously close as he leaned in glaring at the side of your face.

“Alright listen here, new kid---.”

“It’s (y/n), Cartman,”

“Yeah, whatever new kid--.” You groaned loudly before Cartman spoke up again.

“We get to Tokens lavish house, and you’re going to play the broken and depressed damsel, or knight, your choice.”

“Broken and depressed, got it, already got that down since I was born,” you joked.

The boys looked at you worried save for Cartman before you panicked.

“Kidding, I’M KIDDING!”

“No matter what bargain he gives us, you counter back with, you won’t do anything unless he lets US in tomorrow night. Got it, new kid?”

“(y/n),” you corrected.

“GOT IT?!” Cartman yelled at you, causing you to flinch and Kyle to swerve a bit on the road as he was driving.

“I fucking got it, jeez, you’re gonna make Kyle crash,” you cried. Cartman sat down with a smug smile on his face. You sighed softly rubbing your arm before trying to melt into the seat and disappear. You sat in silence for the rest of the ride, watching houses pass by in a colorful blur just outside of the window. The car was pretty clean saving for a wrapper from some fast food joint and some straw wrappers. You began to pick at your nails a bit while thinking before feeling the comforting vibration of the car stop beneath your body and you re-registered your eyes to notice the big, nicely gated house. Oh, so he was a rich boy. Maybe you could push some certain buttons if you needed too.

“Alright, we’re here, let's hope we don’t get banned and put on restraining orders,” Kyle grumbled. Undoing your seatbelt, you carefully popped open the door and hopped out, taking in the fancy black gate and watching where it connected to a cement fence that couldn’t be too easily climbed. You followed the boys up to an intercom system that must connect to the house. Kenny quietly pressed the doorbell button twice and everyone stood to wait for an answer.

“Hello, who is this?” Came the voice form the small speaker just beside the doorbell button.

“Heyyy, Token,” Stan spoke nervously after pushing down the talk button.

“You aren’t invited nor are you being let in tomorrow night! Not you Stan, and none of your other three friends,” Token barked loudly.

You quietly shoved Stan aside softly and pushed down on the button that was titled speak just below it and felt nervousness creep up on you.

“Um, h-hello?” Damn you, you stuttering devil!

“Who is this..? You don’t sound like any of the others if this is you guys pulling a voice prank I’ll get you arrested!”

“No! Oh, god no, none of them have the voices to even sound close to mine, I’m too flawless,” you joked nervously, “I’m (y/n), the new kid who just moved in. I don’t know these guys that well, but they seem like nice people, could you let them go to your party tomorrow?”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of our history. Besides, the last party they trashed my house, I was grounded for weeks,” Token scoffed. You glared slightly at the boys who all looked guilty but Cartman.

“Look, how about we break a deal between us. I’ll, I don’t know, run errands with or for you for your party and you let them come? I’ll pay for anything they break if you let them in too and I’ll take all the blame.”

There was silence on the other end for a long time. You felt dread crawl across your skin, had you just ruined their chances? You let go of the speak button and felt sorry for the boys, about to turn and apologize till you finally got a response.

“Fine, but anything they break tomorrow you pay what it cost and a tax my family deems appropriate, got it?”

The boys cheered happily, all of them focusing on the fact that they were allowed into the party tomorrow night before you felt dead on the inside. If they broke anything expensive tomorrow night? You were honestly going to kill all of them. You reached out to the button with a smile, forcing yourself to sound happy for your new friends.

“Deal, what time you want me over here tomorrow? Come over about two or three in the afternoon, the party is at seven. Oh, and it’s just you coming tomorrow, don’t bring any of those losers with you.”

“Fair,” you stated. The boys yelled in anger and disagreement before you glared at them and put a finger to your mouth, signaling them to shut up.

#south park #South park reader insert #readerinsert #fanfiction #Stan Marsh #Eric Cartman #Token Black #Kenny McCormick #kyle brovlofski #Wendy Testaburger #Bebe Stevens #Heidi Turner

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beaversatemygrandma · 2 years

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Alright. Fun thoughts brought on my tension headache today. It might be a migraine tho idk, i’m not light or sound sensitive so prob tension.

Anyways, i get a call from my dad like two minutes after the thing came up and i’m pissed bc i was just stopped in my process of getting tylenol. and he’s just like ‘smoke some weed, you’ll be fine’ and i’m like ‘yeah, but you’re not getting home til 9 and if the kid is loud and chaotic i’m going to literally shut down if i smoke’ even tho even if i don’t with this headache and if she’s like that, i might shut down whether i do or not. So he starts on telling me to find out what my insurance would cover and he’ll call the places if i need him to (I do.) Now to figure out what the hell my insurance even covers. And knowing how the US is about free insurance, i’m likely going to lose it come December and start having to pay the full 300$ /month for it (when it hardly covers shit. i don’t even have dental dude)

And the thing about me finally getting shit diagnosed as an adult is worrying. Like yes, i’ll be able to get the care i’ve needed forever. But what if it isn’t just the ADHD I’ve had for god knows how long. Like according to my mom, back in the days when i was like 8 and she was going between many doctors trying to figure out what the hell was up with me, she got a few different diagnoses. Specifically two: ADHD and Asperger’s. The ADHD one was the only one that stuck. The Asperger’s one was ignored. That’s what she was getting me therapy for and refused to put me on meds. Later on, I had to PUSH her to get me attention for anxiety. I got medicated. I didn’t even finish the prescription before she took me off of it. I thought it was working. She doesn’t want her child on such a strong drug (...it was a small dose of alprazolam. so. huh? It wasn’t?) And definitely didn’t want me on ADHD meds bc that’s basically legal meth. Either way: She wasn’t letting me be medicated.

And here we are years later, with me wondering why the fuck i can’t do anything a normal 22yo should be doing. Like yes. I can take care of myself. I can push myself to clean and do chores and wash my sheets weekly and such. I feel wrong if i don’t. It’s something i need to do or i know i’d feel worse. But i can’t make the steps to get appointments to take care of myself further. I still need to make the jump on my wisdom teeth (likely cause of my frequent headaches tbh) and I can’t?? And Idk why?? I’ve wrote down numbers, I’ve taken fucking notes. I just Can’t. Do It. I know that’s a symptom of ADHD but i can’t remember what the hell it’s called right now. And then. What if I end up with the old diagnosis? Both ADHD and Asperger’s or even one or the other? What if I’ve been autistic this whole fucking time and as soon as i get hit with that diagnosis: ‘Yeah, that’s autism’. And I’ve heard the horror stories of that. The only benefits you have after getting it are being allowed to wear headphones at work and to be paid less than normal people, and basically be treated like a child when it comes to making your own decisions. So. Uh. Fuck. That’s not okay. Then again: I need help figuring out why the hell I’m this way.

Like, it could just be ADHD and i just don’t have the H part because my mom’s ‘training’ stuck with me. I’ve been trying to put that ‘training’ onto my little sister bc her ADHD is just overwhelming to me. Like is that what i was like when i was little? Bc this is. A Lot. I know others with ADHD all experience it in a different way and I’m definitely an adult and not a child who had little to no parental guidance until she was like 10. Unlike me. But i am not my mom and the only thing i know how to train is a dog and you can’t exactly train a kid like a dog. Food motivation works tho.

But still. There could be other possibilities. Bipolar disorder is one of them. That one might be genetic and my mom’s got it. And fuck, I’ve sure noticed random ups and downs. Like I’m fantastic for a few days. Life’s good. I get shit done. And then suddenly for the next few days afterwards i can’t get myself to do shit because i feel like shit. And after a quick google. Yeah. It’s genetic. 80% of the time. And apparently gets noticed around the age of 20. So. Uh. Another possibility... Bc i am down this week. Last week. I was GREAT. I drew things. I got shit Done. This week? Fuck no. I can hardly remember to do the yoga stretches I’ve been doing bc i don’t get out enough to move around.

And something else interesting: Bipolar disorder seems to have a lot of similar symptoms to ADHD. Maybe i did ‘grow out’ of the ADHD but in reality it was just bipolar this entire time? Idk. This is why i need to know. ---like three minutes pass here. and then:

*looks into the camera like i’m on the office* Bruh. i was literally just saying this. And well. Thanks to actually going further. I was right. Great. I fill out like 3.5/5 of those. Thanks. This might be it. Oh hell.

Yeah. I need a professional in on this shit. That just raised a few red flags for me. so uh. that’s fun.

#taks speaks #ugh #im glad i have those comfort shows now #they're nice to have rn #turns out i have three different possibilities of what the fuck is going on in my head #and genuinely. i need to make the step to get help #i dont have my mom around to take my meds away so. bout time.

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geminimoonbeamx · 6 years

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In the Land of Gods and Monsters: Part Three

A/N: I really wanted to get across in this chapter that she knew. That she was aware of all of the warning signs, and that she ignored them and went ahead and fell in love with this man that she knew she shouldn’t anyways. There’s something so…cosmic with that, I feel. Like they just cant help themselves and it kills my ass and I want it to kill you guys too. So this is kind of like a filler chapter, but it’s important to the future of this story because it sets up that notion that she really cant feel bad for her self because THAT BITCH KNEW. SHE WAS TOLD. SHE WAS AWARE.

Word Count: 4K

Warnings: As with all of my stories there’s a permanent warning of cursing. I have a mouth like a sailor and express myself through the word fuck. Heavy mentions of Drug Use and Drug Addiction. Starting to stray into the NSFW realm, just heavy petting in this chapter but still. Mentions of Death(murder) of a parent.

Summary: You knew what you were getting yourself into when you met Bucky Barnes. He was a known wise guy. A feared mobster. Everyone in the neighborhood knew his name. Funny, in retrospect, you think that might have been why you couldn’t help but be drawn in like a moth to a flame. This first and foremost, is a love story. Blood stained and littered with bullet holes, but the story of how you fell in love with the man none the less. Mobster!BuckyxPlus Size Reader

All my friends tell me I should move on, I’m lying in the ocean singin’ your song- Dark Paradise, Lana Del Rey

-Past-

Problems with addiction ran in your family; you had an aunt who drank a half pint of vodka a day, a handful of junkie cousins, and a mom who had been in and out of rehab because of her love of prescription pills your entire life. The L/N’s liked their high’s. That was just the way you’d grown up. Even Grandma Viv loved her pot(she had a killer bong collection that would make even the biggest stoner gasp).

And you- you weren’t any different. You liked peaking; smoked weed regularly. Dabbled in coke, more so since you’d met Wanda, and other drugs. Nothing scarily hardcore, nothing in your veins. No needles. Even the words heroine and meth scared you shitless… but you enjoyed being high. Loved the rush of endorphins that came with it. Loved feeling…disconnected from everything bad, even if just for a minute.

Bucky Barnes was your new drug.

He made you feel so much better then anything else you’d ever tried did. He made your heart race and your brain fog over, made your stomach clench in anticipation and all of your inhibitions slip away. And you were starting to crave your fix, more and more. The two of you were together every moment you could be; when he wasn’t “working” and you weren’t helping out in the shop or hanging out with Wanda. It was almost ridiculous; you went at it like teenagers. The moment you were together, you couldn’t keep your hands off him, couldn’t help but revel in the kisses he showered you with. Kisses, and gifts.

You’d come to learn that Bucky was an old school kinda’ guy. He liked spending his money on you; “I’m just givin’ you what you deserve, baby” he’d reassure whenever you’d eye something suspiciously. The most you’d ever been given by a man before him was a headache and a box of chocolate they’d picked up at the local 7-11. And then here Bucky comes; drowning you in bouquets of flowers, taking you to the nicest restaurants. It was honestly all a whirlwind, the last month with him had been something out of a fever dream. More then you could have imagined-and sometimes more then you could make yourself believe, accept.

How was Bucky even real? He was almost perfect…almost.

Wanda continued to warn you, to ground you and remind you exactly what you were fucking with.

“He’s not perfect, Y/N. He’s been to fuckin’ prison before!”

She was…wary, of the relationship you seemed to be building with him. Not in that annoying, whiny way. Where she’d bitch at you constantly about breaking it off, but in a way where she had your back. Made sure you checked in with reality every once and a while.

And the reality of Bucky was that he was a gangster. His flashy car and nice apartment came from blood money. You weren’t ignorant to that, and he knew it. Of course you knew, he’d decided. You were best friends with Wanda- there was no way not to know.

It should have deterred you; knowing about the gambling and killing and crime. He was a dangerous man, you should have taken that in to consideration. And you did, sometimes. When you got a moment where your mind and body weren’t buzzing from his touch…

But mostly,

You just got high.

Like now; he had you pressed up against the side of Wanda’s house, the brick biting your bare shoulders a delicious contrast to the pleasure that came from his hands that were drifting under your top. His lips are pressed to your neck, sucking kisses into the skin there and you let out a breathy whimper when you feel him cup your breast through the thin lace of the bralette you wear, your hardened nipple scraping against his palm.

You and Bucky had messed around, a lot. He told you he couldn’t get enough of you, and he was constantly grabbing you. Turning you into a puddle of goo with his mouth and hands…but you hadn’t gone all the way yet. You were just…scared. That if you let him have that part of you, he might change. Change in the way he seemed you yearn for you.

And you weren’t quite ready for him to stop looking at you like you were Aphrodite reincarnated yet.

“Bucky-” You gasp, your hands that had been bracing themselves on his shoulders begin pushing at them, weakly “Stop, we have to stop”

“No!” you think he says, but it’s muffled by the mouthful of your skin. He nips at your plush flesh and you swear your eyes roll into the back of your head, your nails taloning through the material of his shirt.

Fuck, he just made you feel so good. Your hands travel from his shoulders, planning over the strong muscle, up his neck, making their way to tangle in his hair. You love messing up the pretty, styled locks. Running your fingers through his mane until it stuck up in disarray - you liked knowing you could get him here. Rowel him up this way.

“We’re gonna’ get caught. Wha-” your sentence is cut off by the hiss that leaves your throat as he squeezes your breast, tweaking the bud under your top “What if someone comes out?”

You and Bucky…hadn’t really made anything “official” yet. Another reason you were hesitant to sleep with him. He called you his doll, slung his arm around you and flirted openly with you in front of everyone. The two of you went on a handful of dates; you’d drug him to the museum and he’d taken you to all of his favorite restaurants, up and low scale, you’d even been to his apartment. But there hadn’t been that conversation yet. You know, the big important one. The ‘I want to be with you, and no one else, one.’

“I don’t fuckin’ care, let 'em” He pulls away from his assault on your neck to whisper in your ear, before giving it a wet, languid lick that had your knees shaking and your mouth seeking his needily. He happily obliged and slotted his to yours, the kiss deep from the get go.

See, the dilemma was; Bucky turned off your brain. You couldn’t think, logically, with him. Especially not with him kissing you. So you allow yourself to get lost in the kiss, in his touch. In his smell and the sweet taste of his tongue. Ignoring the fact that Wanda was waiting for you upstairs in her room. You’d told her you were going to take a call, and instead you were getting dry humped against the side of her home.

The Stark and Maximoff families were doing business, their partnership sold as of the moment. Which meant you we’re running into Bucky a whole lot lately. Not that either of you minded, it just made it easier to get sucked into his trap. Under his spell.

You tear your lips away, dragging your head to the side as he tries to recapture them “Wanda’s gonna’ be so pissed at me, I have to go back in”

He huffs out a whine and you smile at your work. For as much as he affected you, you knew(his reactions clear), that you affected him right back. “She’ll get over it. She get’s you all the time”

“Well she’s my best friend, so…” Your eyes trail away as you say it. Not looking at him, not wanting him to read the uncertainty in them.

“And what am I? Chopped liver?” He nuzzles your cheek, pressing a small kiss there. You know he had to be running your face makeup, as usual.

“I don’t know, Buck. You tell me” Your words were knife like and you could feel him hesitate. That just fueled you on though, your hands dropping from his hair.

Did he want to be with you or didn’t he. What the fuck was this?

Bucky wasn’t a stupid man, actually, one of the things you had learnt about him, first and fast, was how insanely smart he was. Like 'Good Will Hunting’ smart.

So of course he picked up on the change of the vibes, on your shifting mood. He just tries to push himself closer though, pressing you tighter to the brick, his body pinning yours even though you were staring to squirm.

“Baby doll…” He breathes, running his nose along your cheekbone and you just close your eyes and retreat from it “Don’t be like that”

“I’m not sure what it is you want from me”

He sighs, the hot air he exhales fanning across the side of your face “Whattya’ mean? I want you, I want you so bad-”

That’s not enough. It’s not enough for him to want you, your body. Not when you want so much more from him.

“I’ve gotta’ go back inside now, Bucky” You push him away, and he can tell your serious so he lets you out of his cage like arms.

“Y/N-”

“It’s fine” You’re re-arranging yourself. Smoothing your shirt back to its previous state and making sure your boobs weren’t popping out due to his ministrations .

“Talk to me then”

“I don’t have time right now”

That earns you another sigh and you look over to see him running his fingers through his hair, slicking it back. It wont exactly stick back into it’s style; into the neat way it had been before you’d messed it up.

Good, some vicious side of you acknowledges. He can’t fix what you’d messed up.

“What about later? We can go get somethin’ to eat”

You hate that you’re so petty sometimes. That because you were feeling insecure, you couldn’t stop yourself from being a bitch.

“I’ve got to work later”

“Baby” This isn’t pleading, this is strong. He’s demanding you, using that tone that you barley ever heard from him. It forces you to meet his eyes. “What’s wrong? I’m not gonna’ beg for you to fuckin’ talk to me when I don’t know what I did wrong, Y/N”

It really shouldn’t turn you on so much, that commanding, strong side of him. Because you knew this was the side that he used in his “work”. This was the Bucky that pepple whispered in fear about.

…And yet there you were, with wet panties.

It made your head spin. Your Bucky high could be too much sometimes…

“You didn’t do anything wrong, it’s fine”

“That’s bullshit”

“Y/N!” Wanda’s voice comes bellowing from somewhere out of sight and you’re happy for it because you didn’t know whether you were about to start an argument with him or let him fuck you against this wall.

His jaw tenses and un-tenses and its your turn to sigh, to reach out for him and run your hand along his arm as you leaned in.

“I’m fine, okay? I’m just- fuck. I’ll text you later okay?”

He doesn’t look convinced, and he’s still doing that jaw thing but he nods and you press a quick smooch to his lips before you step away from him, intent on hurrying back to Wanda because you knew she’d come looking.

You only get a couple steps away though, before you’re being yanked back, into his arms.

You giggle into his mouth as he kisses you, as his hands squeeze at your doughy hips for moment.

“You’d better text me later” He commands, but its playful and light, accentuated by a lick.

“I will” You promise and he glowers down at you so you give him one more peck, dragging his bottom lip out with your teeth as you pull back “I will”

And then you’re walking away, giving him a faint smile before rounding the corner of the house.

When you find Wanda(which is like a game of Where’s Waldo in this big ass fucking house), lounging against the railing of one of the balconies she has a smirk and a raised eyebrow waiting for you.

“Your hair is fucked” She informs you, before she takes a drag of her cigarette and you chuckle and give her a dry “thanks”

You go and lean next to her, not smoking yourself, but staying with her as she does. Raven, Step Mommy number six, had made the house a no smoking zone due to Wanda’s father’s ever worsening lungs. Wanda had of course been livid, but had agreed to light up outside. She hated Raven, but she loved her dad.

“That was a mighty long trip to the bathroom”

“That Mexican we had earlier didn’t agree with me?” You reply lamely, feebly lying and she just busts into laughter.

“Yeah right, you little hooker. I know Bucky had to come by for a drop off”

You shrug and turn so that you face her big back yard. You’re feeling very conflicted.

“Did something happen?” She’s so intuitive it’s like she’s reading your mind sometimes.

“No. Why?”

“Because you usually cant shut up about him” She retorts, turning too so that she’s facing the same direction as you. You snort. It’s pathetic, but it’s true.

“I just don’t know…you know?”

“No, I don’t know. Care to elaborate?” She pries, but she cares. So you don’t totally hate her for making you talk about feelings you couldn’t even comprehend yourself.

“It’s like he wants me, and I know that. But does he want to be with me? I mean you’ve told me about all the girls before and I totally fucking believe it. He’s like- ugh, Wanda. I feel like I’m being an idiot”

“What you need to be thinking about is if you want to be with him” Wanda starts, flicking the ash of her cigarette “It’s not like normal relationships, Y/N. Committing to a man from this life is hardcore. It’s not something you should do on a whim, because shit can hit the fan really fucking fast. If you two are together, like really together, and everyone knows about it- you become a weak spot”

Wanda seems to be fighting to keep herself calm and you feel bad. You hadn’t even really thought about this, about the harsh truth she was about to lay on you.

“And other families, other branches- like to exploit weak spots. You’d be in danger. Constantly. Your name would be connected to his. It happens all the time, someone wants to get back at someone else, they do it through their loved ones-”

It had happened to her. You knew very little about Wanda’s mother and her death. Only the bits that Pietro had reveled to you one drunken night- Wanda, herself, had never brought up the woman. You knew their father loved her, and you knew that she had taken a bullet that had been meant for him. It was sad, in an ironic way. Mr. Metals wife killed by metal.

“I’m not saying Bucky’s the greatest dude, and for all we know he could be talking to other girls, but I think this is the reason he’s being weird about being with you. You’re not an idiot- well I mean you are, for willingly involving yourself with him in the first place” You glare at her and she chuckles.

“But I mean these guys have wives and girlfriends all the time? What if it’s just…me” Your insecure mind forces your mouth to utter the words.

“What do you mean you?”

“I mean I’m obviously not a fucking super model- OW!” When Wanda throws her elbow, very hard you might add, into your boob you cut your sentence short.

“Shut. Up. You are gorgeous and you know it”

“You’re my friend, you have to say that” You continue in vain as you rub your now sore breast. Funny, it’s the one that Bucky had been playing with. Little guy was gettin’ a lot of attention today.

“I really don’t, and you know I wouldn’t if I didn’t think it was true” Honesty rings in her words and you know it to be true. Wanda could be a bitch, you could just picture her telling someone they needed to go powder their nose. She’d told a girl at a party that she should consider brushing her hair every once and a while.

“Y/N” She breaks you out of your silence, out of your thoughts and you turn to her. “You’re my best friend. My only friend, if we’re being real…so I’m going to tell you this, because I love you”

Oh no. You’re not sure you want to hear what she has to say but you stay quiet and brace yourself for it anyway.

“Falling in love with him is a bad idea-”

“I’m not!-”

“But you’re going to. I know it. So I’m telling you now, it’s a bad idea. It’s a truley shitty fucking idea. I love my father, I really do- but he’s a bad man. He does horrible things- daily! And Bucky’s the same”

Her words taste like poison, nothing like the honey sweet ones Bucky filled your mouth with. Her bitter clashed with his sweet and left you torn. You just nod, because you knew damn well she was right and lean into her, your head resting on her taller shoulder.

You don’t say anything, because what is there to say? You cant tell her that you were going to stop seeing him, because you both knew that wasn’t the truth…

“You lesbians want to smoke this blunt with me?” Pietro asks, joyously, obliviously, as he bounces out onto the balcony with the two of you. In his hands is a thick, already rolled weed-gar and on his face is an excited grin. He waggles his eyebrows at you and you cant help but laugh.

Leave it to him to break the tension, to raise the mood.

When it came to the twins; they really were night and day. Where Wanda was unapproachable and slightly antisocial- Pietro was loud and made friends with everyone he met. They balanced each other in a way that was almost unhealthy because you really couldn’t imagine one of them being able to survive without the other.

And so, you opted for a different kind of high. Trying not to think of Bucky as you faced the blunt with both twins. You didn’t know what kind of weed that was, but your completely, stupidly, fucking stoned for hours.

Even when you head into to the Bodega for your shift. Grandma Viv just shoots you one look and tells you to go put some eye drops in so you didn’t scare away her wholesome customers. Time seems to pass both too fast and too slow and you vow to yourself that you’re never smoking with the silver haired twin again because he had to have roofied you.

You’re finally coming down later that night, after a long shower. You’re clad in a matching pair of black pajama shorts and a tank top as you’re sprawled across your bed. It’s starting to get hot, summer time sweltering, and your window is cracked open because the air conditioner is on the fritz yet again and the maitnence man wasn’t going to come until the end of the week.

You grab your phone and scroll through the contacts.

And even though Wanda had warned you- even though you fucking knew what you were playing at, you texted Bucky.

-Hi. What are you up to?

His reply is fast, and unexpected.

-Come outside

That had you sitting up, fast, you’re eyes widening as you hurried to the window. He wasn’t serious- he couldn’t be.

And yet he was. His familiar car is parked in it’s usual spot a few cars past the Bodega…

“Fuck” You hiss as you run to the mirror and look yourself over. Your hair is wet from the shower still, and your face looks chubby and young and bare. You forsure hadn’t gotten to the “No Makeup” part of the relationship yet “Fuck, fuck, fuck”

Your phone buzzes again and you reach over to grab it

-C'mon doll, come outside

-Ur fucking insane you text back, fishing out a bra to throw on quickly under your tank top.

-I know. Hurry.

And so you slip on your furry slides and make your way outside. Your grandma had gone to sleep hours ago, after the store had closed, so you didn’t have to worry about her. You take the stairs down to the ground floor at an embarrassingly fast pace, almost tripping more then once.

God, you were running to him. Litterally. You’re acutely aware of how much of an idiot you are as you step out into the late night air.

He’s standing there, waiting for you outside of his car. A box of roses in his arms. You approach him hesitantly, spearing your lip between your teeth. He grins at you, the closer you get. His eyes drinking you in and you try in vain not to flush under that scrutiny.

“Hi” You say, as you close the gap. Til’ you’re standing right in front of him

“Hi” He breathes back “These are for you” he extends his arms, giving you the flowers that you’d envied on luckier girls social media’s for ages. You look down at them with big eyes. You’d never though anyone would get you something so beautiful…

“Bucky, you didn’t have to…”

“I wanted to”

“But-”

“I want you” He interrupts and your chest clenches and you feel like you need to shut your eyes. Straight to the point. He never seemed to bother with inbetweens. It was all or nothing with him, you’d guessed his severity had been picked up from his “job”.

“Bu-”

“I want us to be together. I do, you know that, right? That’s what earlier was about?”

When you don’t reply his hands grab at you, pulling you by you hips until your bodies are pressed flush against each other- well they would be, if you didn’t hold the box of roses between you like a protective barrier. You cant seem to properly function. So you just grip the flowers, tight.

“My life is messy though, and I don’t want that for you”

“So you want to be with me, but you don’t?” You glare up at him suspiciously.

“No- I just want to be with you. That’s all” He assures, as thought it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“But you just said-”

“I know. And I’ve been thinking that since our first date because, shit, Y/N, I’ve wanted to be with you since then. I don’t want you gettin’ caught up in the cross hairs of all my…shit. But you’re already best friends with Wanda so I figured…screw it. I want to be selfish with you, because I fucking love the way I feel when I’m around you”

You are SCREAMING.

On the inside of course.

Your heart literally feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest, like you’re about to start throwing palpitations.

“Just me. No one else?”

He shakes his head vehemently “No one else. Fuck. Is that what you were worried about?”

You don’t answer that, just purse your lips. He takes the roses gently from your arms so that he can place them on the hood of his car. Pulling you close then, once the protective barrier is gone- his body heat plus the early summer air has you sweltering.

“I haven’t been with anyone since we started datin’, Y/N. I promise. And even before that- well none of the women I’ve been with have mattered in a long time”

“That’s horrible” You sniffle into his chest, ever the feminist. You can feel his chest vibrate with laughter.

“I know. I’m not the greatest guy…do you want to be with me, baby girl? I’d understand if you didn’t. It would hurt like a son'uva bitch, I’m not gonna like to ya’, but I’d understand” He soothes as his leather gloved hand rubs circle on your back, playing with the ends of your wet hair.

“I do” You tell him, strongly, pulling away so he can see your face. So he can see how serious you were.

You shouldn’t.

You know that.

But you do, it’s all you want.

When his lips press to yours, in a kiss that’s sweet and passionate and full of something…different, you know you’re fucked.

That’s the thing, you always knew with Bucky.

You hoped for the best.

But you knew, that most likely, this would end in flames. And you’d walked into them with a smile on your face.

@buchonians @geekyweed @kelly96q @missrobyn81 @iamwarrenspeace @docharleythegeekqueen @beccavesper @buckysforeverprincess @yslbucky @plumfondler @prettybubblesintheair @4theluvofall @huntressxtimelady @curiositywillbeethedeathofmee @welcometothelordsden @jacks-on-krack @peacefulwriter88 @thejenniferincident @nopevilleluas @lostinthoughtsandfeelings @eshia16 @shayla-markele @xotaku-baekx @rcsgcld @ruffdog921 @manlyflower @my-anxious-world

This story is already absolutely painful to write- just because I’ve already written up the outline for it. I know exactly how this is going to end up and it’s like…fuck. Why? Why lord? Next chapter will flash forward to the present and connect back with the Intro.

So yes, Y/N is a confident plus size woman, but she is also a human being. And self doubt is a very prominent human emotion. And I mean come ON, if you were dealing with a guy like Bucky you’d have some questions for yourself too.

Do you guys love Wanda as much as I do? LMFAO I think she’s my favorite character to write.

I’m all but pouring my soul into this story and I really hope you guys can feel that, and enjoy reading it. Let me know! Leave me some love, ya’ll know I’m a slut for comments. I love you guys times a billion. Oh, and ps I'm on winter break so expect a few more updates this week if I get some juicy comments!💛

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voice-oftheempire--archived-blog · 6 years

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SEMI-HIATUS NOTICE

// It probably doesn’t come as any sort of great shocker to see that, given that I haven’t exactly been really active on here or @morvokk now for some time. This blog has been running on queue, in fact, due to just not having the energy and capability to actually do anything.

So let me get on that, explain what is going on, and we’ll sort of move on from there.

As any of you who have been with my blogs since they were started back in October know, my health hasn’t been in the greatest of dispositions for one reason or another. Given that I do have some new followers, I’ll retell some things, so a few bits will be old-news-moving-into-new for the veterans here, eheh. (If you want to skip to the new stuff, search for “***”)

As this story goes, I went in to the ER, primary care, and a handful of different specialists on numerous occasions and ended up basically grabbing a doctor in the ER by the lapels and screaming at him what he was going to do to my body to find out what was wrong that time.

This was how we found out I had biliary dyskinesia. Again, for those of you who have been around for a bit, you know that this was but for the new ones this is basically a huge dysfunction of the gallbladder where it produces all the same symptoms of gallbladder disease with gallstones. . .except you lack the ability to actually make stones. No stones means this can’t be picked up easily through blood tests (mine were always “good”) or through an ultrasound because there’s nothing to see. You must get something called a HIDA scan done that basically induces your gallbladder to do it’s job and measures if it does. It should perform at lowest 35%, but doctors prefer 40%. Mine was 20% when the test was done. And dropping.

Scheduled for surgery, but it was postponed numerous times while I was given a run-around by my surgeon who wanted my heart cleared because I had been having chest pains since November (mind, this was January now when I finally had this together). I had asked about that, but they had denied me, so I grumpily wore it for three days and now have five scars on my torso from the stickers, tachycardia when I have panic attacks and bradycardia when I take narcotic painkillers. Thanks, heart monitor. Gallbladder out on February 5th, have bad recovery.

***This is where the new stuff starts kicking in, for those of you who have been around here.

As I recovered from my gallbladder surgery, I noticed that it was taking me a lot longer to actually recover than what it was supposed to. Like. A lot longer. Weeks more. I was steps back from my peers. I had to order another round of painkillers because I was still in agony. I was still suffering chest pain. I was told, “It’s just built-up gasses -- you’re fine, you’re fine.” And then the images came back from my surgery and we found the cyst on my left ovary. Okay, cool, nothing huge to panic over. Made an appointment with my OBGYN and discussed it with him. Got scheduled for an ultrasound to see what kind of cyst we were dealing with and why it was pretty sizeable. Discussed and agreed to having an ablation treatment to my inner lining to hopefully fix a lot of those problems too. Schedule that after the ultrasound (because if we gotta do surgery for one, may as well do them at the same time, right? Right).

And then there were the pesky panic attacks that were keeping me up at night. Gasping, chest-crushing, sobbing, I-am-dying, screaming into pillows and begging for it to end attacks on end. Five, six, eleven times a day. All hours, always worse at night. I was staying awake instead of sleeping. My spouse was getting two hours on good nights where all he could do was try to keep me from hyperventilating and screaming. Most of the time I just sobbed and begged him to make it stop.

The muscle weakness came not long after. My arms went first, but we expected them to be a little off, especially since I had been on strict orders from my doctors to not lift beyond five pounds. But my legs? When it became almost impossible for me to stand up from sitting in a chair, or getting out of my car without help I knew something was wrong. It felt like sandbags weighed me down. Like I had done leg day for eons. Like a thousand leg presses. Whatever. It was wrong, and it got worse every day.

Then the brain bleed happened out of nowhere. That one was fun and scary. A simple trip to the ER for a headache that felt very wrong that I wasn’t willing to mess with (my aunt has a history of brain tumors, so nu-uh) revealed blood on my brain and wham I was laid up for two days in a much fancier hospital ICU. Three more CTs later, plus a cerebral angiogram I was released, and no one knew where the bleed had come from or if it would happen again.

And all the while my chest got worse and worse. And my entire body began hurting and aching. My headaches became worse, but no more bleeds (even after another ER trip to make sure). Many days I would wake up and barely be able to roll out of bed without wanting to scream. Some days I was up and okay but still not there. I was always dizzy, always a bit sick, always foggy in my brain. Given new drugs to help with the panic attacks (they did, for a bit, and then they came back).

My primary care doctor sat me down and gave me this: you will go see a gastroenterologist. The testing will ultimately probably come back clear, and when that does I can give you the referral to the best rheumatologist. You have an auto-immune disease or fibromyalgia. Maybe both at this point, but it’s not our specialty. It’s theirs.

Then: the nail. The insurance I was riding was literally riding -- I was coasting on the fumes of my old job’s insurance -- expired. When I showed up for my ultrasound appointment they told me they had tried to bill it the day prior and it bounced back as gone and asked if I had new insurance. Well, no, not yet.

Now, this isn’t to say I haven’t been working with Medicaid here since December because of chronic illnesses and various mental/physical disabilities keeping me from having a job to be able to PAY for insurance, but they had to collect paperwork from every doctor I had seen in six months time. That was over sixteen doctors. And some...were not sending. And not sending. And not sending. As of right now there are still some who have not sent from months ago and I am screaming because they are hindering my potential.

Anyway

$400 upfront for my ultrasound and who knew how much for the actual appointment? Sorry, no could do. Guess that cyst is there to stay for now, fellas. I had to cancel my GI appointment, which also means that all my progress is now halted. I’m a dead fish in the water with no insurance. My doctor has given my prescription strength NSAIDs to see if that will help relieve some of the issues in my chest, but so far nothing.

And, not to make this sound more Danny Downer? But each day I wake up and it’s worse. For the past two days I haven’t even gotten a whole five hours because I woke up to roll over and my heart started hammering in my chest, my entire chest cavity began hurting worse than ever, I felt like I couldn’t breathe and was dying all over again...and hours later it still feels like that? I was in the ER again last night for pain uncharacteristic for all of this and they couldn’t even diagnose it at this point. It’s just a, “You’re not having a heart attack, so you’re alright and that’s the best we have.”

The week before I was in the ER too. I’m getting very tired of hospitals.

My point here is: today, I’m doing really good to be sitting up and typing. I’m really proud I walked from my bed to my attached bathroom and back again before I started sobbing. I keep writing in my chronic illness journal and I keep waiting for something to happen with insurance. But I’m always exhausted and my creativity is absolutely gone. It’s just...zapped and gone.

For now, I’m having to take a step back, focus on just trying to get through each one of my days as I have them, and exist. Adding the responsibility of Tumblr to my life right now just isn’t quite possible. It’s too taxing right now, and I feel too much guilt looking at how many replies I owe or how many Asks I have in my box. And given that some days I can’t even sit up to type? Or even see the screen or keyboard? Maybe best not.

So, in the meantime, both Valoren (@voice-oftheempire) and Morvok (@morvokk) will be placed on a SEMI-HIATUS with an indefinite return date. I’ll be in and out as I can, when I can, and work as I can, but it will be extremely low-key, threads will be highly-selective, and I will ask for the upmost patience with my partners while I navigate good and bad days.

As always, I love each and every one of you, and please, please do not hesitate to hit me up on Discord just to chat or whatnot. Just remembering that someone else is out there is often enough to help someone through their day. I’ve actually lost irl friends because my health bothers them -- and I would hate for that to happen here as well simply because I wasn’t writing as frequently as before.

PS: There are certain drugs that if you take them will make your urinalysis come back positive for meth, cocaine, and cannabis. If you have been in and out of the hospital as much as I have, the nurses will ask in on your Drug Cartel. This legit happened last night. I had to end this on an amusing note. <3

#ooc #faust comments #{ I Spoke and you Listened [Announcement] }#cw: medical #also if any symbols are showing weirdly don't ask me why blame tumblr at this point

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