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kaistarus · 4 years

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Write Me a Cliche--Valentine’s Day

Pairs: Kirishima x Reader

Words: 1.4K

Summary: You’re trying to write Kirishima a love letter for Valentine’s, but he walks in and tries to be the helpful, oblivious best boy he is and it makes things difficult

Enjoy! :)

You knew this was the ultimate cliché.

That a love letter on Valentine’s day was probably the lamest way for you to confess your feelings, but you also knew that if anyone would appreciate a good hallmark cliché it was Kirishima. So, even though you weren’t a big fan of this fake holiday you were going to muster up the courage to give the redhead the romantic moment he deserved. Even with this resolve, it took you all week to actually work up the nerve to start the letter, which was why you were now in the dorm’s den way past curfew surrounded by torn up half-finished drafts.

You were close to giving up at this point. You’d probably wasted half a forest in the past few hours while making zero progress. Who even knew if you’d get it done before class started?

“What are you writing?”

You instinctively threw your upper body atop your collection of failed letters. Kirishima was standing over you, tilting his head confused. He rubbed the sleep out of his still droopy eyes and zoned in on the papers you were covering.

“Nothing—homework—Why are you awake?”

“Thirsty.” He let out a big yawn before narrowing his eyes at something at the end of the table. You quickly realized you had forgotten about the envelope you had decorated as procrastination. He picked it up and observed the various sized hearts and poorly drawn cupids.

“Are you making a love letter?”

You pulled all the papers on the table towards you frantically. “No.”

“You totally are,” a mischievous grin spread across his face and he settled into the chair next to you. You felt your stress levels spiking because there’s no way this could be happening. “Who’s it for? Do I know them?”

“Kind of…” You responded, glancing at a clock on the wall that read one in the morning.

Valentine’s day.

“You should let me help!” Kirishima reached for the notebook that was left beside you. “I help Kami with letters all the time.”

“And how often does that work?”

“That’s irrelevant,” he waved off. “That’s Kami and you’re you. Whoever you’re writing to will definitely accept this.”

You bit your lip and tried to ignore the arrhythmic beating of your heart from Kirishima sitting so close to you. You glanced at the clock again and sighed. You supposed you’d just have to find a way to change up your confession. It was Valentine’s day after all and Kirishima needed his hallmark moment.

“Promise?” You whispered as he took the pencil you held limply in your hand. He shot you one of his infamous blinding smiles and nodded his head.

“Of course.”

You fought back the smile forcing its way onto your face and nodded. “Okay, where should I start?”

“Well, when did you start to like them?” He asked, tongue poking out and pencil at the ready. You regarded him carefully as you thought over your response. Truthfully, you probably had liked the boy since the first day at UA. The way he interacted with everyone, how confidently he walked up to people to introduce himself, and the way he smiled at you when he asked your name. Something about that all sent butterflies through your stomach.

But the moment that really solidified it for you…

“It was probably when we were attacked at the USJ…” You smiled softly as Kirishima began writing. “He was really brave when the villains attacked. Didn’t even hesitate to fight.”

Kirishima glanced upwards. “So, it’s someone in our class?”

“Maybe.”

He pouted. “I mean, it would be easier for me if I knew who we were—”

“Tough world, huh?” You both narrowed your eyes at each other.

“Okay, now maybe just why you like them?” He looked up at you expectantly and you felt your cheeks start to warm. You were supposed to just tell the guy you like why you like him to his face? As he wrote all the reasons why you like him down on paper?

You wanted to shrink into the chair beneath you. Maybe tell Kirishima to scratch this entire idea and just go to bed. But you were too committed to the concept now. It would be worse if you quit than if you continued.

“Well… I’ve never met someone with such a big heart.” You started, picking at your nails nervously. “He’s constantly putting himself in danger to save and protect people. He’s brave and selfless and kind. He’s always working hard to improve and become a better person.” A smile found its way to your face. “He’s the perfect hero. He’s going to be amazing and I’m just happy to know him.”

You glanced up and Kirishima had paused writing. He was zoned out at the paper and you nudged him back into reality. He jolted and started scribbling quickly.

“Sorry,” he mumbled. “This guy… sounds great.”

You bit the inside of your cheek to contain a chuckle. “He is. He’s kind of a dork too, but in a cute way.”

Kirishima raised a brow at you. “Yeah?”

You hummed. “He has a terrible fashion sense, but somehow still pulls it off? I think it’s because his smile could actually beat out the sun. He literally lights up every room and brings everyone’s mood up.”

Kirishima’s writing slowed and his head rose slowly.

“He also refuses to eat vegetables. Like I’m pretty sure I saw him hiss at a piece of broccoli once when he thought no one was looking.”

Kirishima narrowed his eyes at you.

“And this one time we were playing Mario Kart and he hit me with a blue shell even though I—”

“It was one time and you weren’t even in the first place.”

��That’s what made it even worse!” You hit the table with a fist. “You hit me in second place. Who does that?”

“It was an accident.” He furrowed his brow, then froze as realization struck him. “Wait… am I writing my own love letter?”

Your face lit up and you glanced everywhere but at him. The room grew silent until all you could hear was your own heart beating furiously in your ear.

“Please tell me I’m writing my own love letter…” He said again, this time sounding more desperate.

You lifted your hands up for an awkward shrug. “Surprise?”

His mouth opened and closed several times. He picked up the letter he’d written and read it over carefully. He did so several times before letting out a disbelieving huff. “You think I’m the perfect hero?”

“That is something I said, yes.”

Kirishima beamed at you before wrapping his arms tightly around you. Your muscles tightened in surprise before you melted into his embrace, wrapping your arms around his center. It was a little awkward hugging across chairs, but it still made your heart ache and your chest fill to bursting.

“What the fuck.” He laughed, rubbing his cheek against the top of your head. “I can’t believe you had me write my own confession.”

“It wasn’t exactly what I planned…” You mumbled into his shoulder. “I wanted to give you a Valentine’s day cliché. All gross and romantic.”

He pulled away to give you the dopiest smile you’ve ever seen. “That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“That’s not possible. I’ve heard what comes out of Kaminari’s mouth in the mornings and I’m positive you’ve heard—”

“Fine.” He placed his forehead against yours and gave a long sigh, “but I would’ve loved anything you gave me. I didn’t need a cliché.”

“Well, it’s a little late for that.” You laughed. He hummed, rubbing your noses together before pulling away again and grabbing the letter he’d written and read it over.

“I’m going to hang this up on my wall.”

“The letter you wrote for yourself?” You crossed your arms with a raised brow.

“No. It’s like… a joint effort confession. It’s our love confession.” He wriggled his eyebrows. You buried your face in your hands and he wrapped you in his arms again. “Happy Valentine’s day.”

You mumbled a response and felt your cheeks burn when he nuzzled the top of your head. This wasn’t how you had planned this day to start out, especially since it was barely two in the morning, but this was already the best Valentine’s day you could imagine. Maybe you could get used to stupid hallmark holidays. As long as Kirishima was here with you…

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijirou x reader #kirishima eijirou #bnha valentine #bnha au #bnha fic #kirishima eijirou fic #bnha imagines

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alistircrat · 4 years

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Hetalila Fanfiction Recs

Here’s a list of some of my favorite Hetalia fanfictions. Most have pairings, which I’ll specify. I put this up because I know I’m always on the lookout for good fanfiction and I wanted to help out anyone else who’s in the same boat :D Feel free to add onto this or rec me some too ;) Also a good master list of the ones I like LMAO. I’ve noticed I either like tragic, angsty fanfiction or really fluffy ones. A lot are rated M. And a LOT of USUK and Spamano #srynotsry Disclaimer: I did not write any of these; they all belong to their respective authors.

Update: Ive had this sitting in my drafts for like over 4 years and i began it when i was super into hetalia n fanfiction LMAO, what better time to post this when i should be studying lmao its nearly 4 am halp

UsUK

The Secret : Rated T, 32k words, 5 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete Arthur's sister, engaged to prince Alfred, is killed before she even meets him. Arthur's parents do not want to shame themselves by ending the engagement and force Arthur to dress like his sister and marry Alfred instead. But can this secret be kept? (note: very interesting!! I loved every second of it)

The Courting of Alfred Jones : Rated M, 26k words, 13 chapters, Romance/Hurt/Comfort, Incomplete Alfred Jones is the most popular guy in school and also extremely homophobic. This is why Arthur is his new favourite 'victim', but Arthur has no intentions of grovelling in the dust for him. Punk!ArthurxJock!Alfred (note: Rated M, so there IS some explicit material and I advise viewer discretion. Another highschool AU. Sad that it’s probably not going to finish but it’s worth the read)

When I Only Wanted to Save the World : Rated M, 29k words, 11 chapter, Romance, Complete Alfred is a firefighter in New York City. When he gets badly injured, he takes a trip to London to recover. There he meets a man named Arthur, who ends up helping him recover from wounds he didn't even know he had. (note: warmed my weeb heart)

United Again : Rated T, 31k words, 7 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Arthur gets a letter in the mail informing him of his school's ten year reunion.

Unexpected : Rated T, 5.7k words, One-shot, Humor/Drama, Complete World Academy. When Arthur was asked to tutor the star of the American Football team, he expected several things. Sitting in an apartment full of Asian children was not one of them. (cute!)

The Invitational Year : Rated M, 208k words, 41 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Alfred is an awkward dork, despite the fact his dad is President. Arthur is a member of British royalty, and he's a perfectionist loner. Both boys are given an invitation to attend the prestigious World Academy and, naturally, they're roomies. (note: A favorite of mine! Quite long but very much worth it. Highschool AU. Can be silly yet dramatic. Anyways, you should read it! Viewer discretion due to sexual themes)

The Sophomore Year : Rated M, 173k words, 34 chapter, Romance/Drama, Complete After meeting at boarding school, Alfred and Arthur became unlikely friends and then lovers. Now, they'll face their sophomore year in America and all the challenges that come with being young, famous, and madly in love. (note: sequal to The Invitational Year)

And All That Jazz : Rated M, 98k words, 22 chapters, Romance, Complete Alfred is approached by the Student Body President, Arthur, for help on his math exam. They hate each other, but maybe opposites can attract with the help of something unexpected. (note: I love this fic. Highschool AU. Also involves music...cuz liek yknow the title)

1912 : Rated T, 52k words, 9 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Cynical, overweight and bored in the dull twilight of his empire, Arthur finds distraction in the form of rekindling his relationship with Alfred on board the RMS Titanic during her doomed maiden voyage.

The Arrow was Shot : Rated K+, 5.8k words, One-shot, Romance, Complete In order to win his family's respect, Arthur enters a tournament to win the Princess of America's hand in marriage. At the tournament, he befriends the mysterious Alfred- a fellow competitor who is equally determined to win. As he and Alfred grow closer, he begins to question what is more important to him: his family's respect... or Alfred.

Flirting with Failure : Rated T, 2k words, One-shot, Romance/Humor, Complete Alfred just wanted to get one date with Arthur Kirkland before the semester ended. To do that he had to speak with him. Thus, he was set up for failure.

Hero Frequency : Rated T, 12k words, 3 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete America's got the coolest and most awesome band in school, and he's totally going to win the Battle of the Bands contest. Or at least he might, if he can get England to put aside their past issues long enough to play guitar...

The Gentleman and the Hero : Rated T, 57k words, 21 chapters, Romance, Complete World Academy students have been paired up for an anonymous email exchange program, so they can talk to someone about school and personal problems in private. These are the emails of two students nicknamed 'The Gentleman' and 'The Hero'. (note: I also love this. I find it very cute and also very in character. I want an email buddy lol. Highschool AU)

Breathless : Rated T, 35k words, 4 chapters, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Arthur Kirkland never thought that golden boy Alfred Jones would ever have a reason to attempt suicide. Then again, how much did he really know about the oh so popular blonde? The rumor mill would surely chew him up and spit him out. (note: p sure this is another favorite of mine. Though angsty, I really enjoyed the development between the two. Highschool AU. Really great read!!)

Static : Rated T, 45k words, 9 chapters, Drama/Romance, Incomplete Sequel to Breathless. Arthur always thought that the incident with Alfred's arms would forever be the biggest hurdle their friendship would face. But as the looks change and the touches linger, it becomes frightfully clear that he was dead wrong about that. (note: continues after Breathless, but not finished ): worth the read anyway)

Ask Me Anything : Rated T, 7k words, One-shot, Romance/Humor, Complete Alfred starts to follow Arthur on tumblr. It's not long until they become friends... and possibly more.

The Cost of Affection : Rated M, 61k words, 32 chapters, Angst/Romance, Incomplete Being a whore is easy: all Arthur has to do is spread his legs and take the money. He doesn't have to face his past; nor does he have to deal with love. And for good reason - because when he does fall head-over-heels for someone, he's forced to realize that his sins go beyond prostitution, and that even as he rediscovers himself, his past is coming back to haunt him after all.

You Can’t Take the Sky Away From Me : Rated T, 113k words, 32 chapters, Adventure/Romance, Incomplete Ace pilot America is on a mission for the World Military when a chance encounter with a group of sky-pirates leads him to team up with their captain, England, against a malevolent group that wants to fill the sky with zeppelins. (note: Steampunk AU. This is a really cool fic!)

We’ll Meet Again : Rated M, 43k words, 13 chapters, Romance/Angst, Complete WW2 AU. London pub owner Arthur Kirkland is driven to distraction by loud, brash American fighter pilot Alfred Jones. Unable to stop it, Arthur finds himself falling for Alfred's charms... just as the pilot is preparing to leave for war. (note: a hetalia fandom clASSIC. MUST READ. unfortunately the OG fics were deleted so someone reposted it, giving credit to the OG author George deValier. this will rip ur heart out n tape it poorly back together)

Franada

La Patisserie de La Rose : Rated M, 35k words, 6 chapters, Romance, Complete Accountant Matthew Williams is used to being unnoticed, ignored, and forgotten. That is until pastry chef Francis Bonnefoy appears like a burst of colour in his dull, grey life.

AmeViet (yes, Vietnam!)

Hard to Get : Rated T, 57k words, 20 chapters, Adventure/Romance, Complete During World War Two, serious, limited Vietnam meets the boisterous America. Amid fighting, friendship, and stress, America tries to get Vietnam to like him, but she won't let that happen. Or will she? (note: One of my all-time favorites, unforgettable. I can never find fics of this pairing, it’s so hard! But this is a really great fic, highly recommend. also after learning more about Vietnam history, i might give this yet ANOTHER re-read with my new perspectives)

Of Broken Promises and the Taste of Freedom : Rated T, 1.4k words, One-shot, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete Vaguely, Vietnam wondered if this was what freedom tasted like. If perhaps, the hot waves that crashed through her body and set her skin on fire was what it was like to know that you are truly free.

GerIta (apologies, I don’t read too much GerIta LOL)

Auf Wiedersehen, Sweetheart : Rated M, 104k words, 18 chapters, Romance/Angst, Complete WW2 AU. Feliciano Vargas is a passionate, if slightly scared, Italian resistance member. Falling in love with a German fighter pilot was the last thing he expected... and it will test his national loyalty, and his heart, to their limits. (note: another VeraVerse, so well written! you will not ragret. also a repost since Og was deleted, all credit to George deValier)

RusAme

Dear Diary : Rated T, 55k words, 17 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Alfred F. Jones isn't gay. Just read his diary; you'll see. (note: I absolutely love high school or college AUs, omg. Also this is hilarious. I can really relate to how Alfred's rambling)

PruHun

The Most Awesome Date Plan Ever : Rated T, 7.5k words, 6 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete It was foolproof. He had worked out every plan, every detail and each possible outcome almost guaranteed him Elizaveta's love. Until it was ruined by Gilbert's two cockblocking best friends. (note: funny and cute)

Táncol? : Rated K+, 24k words, 6 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Elizaveta is determined to find out who Gilbert wants to ask out for the school dance. If that means bullying his friends, being hired by Gilbert to slave over a cake, and invading his diaries, so be it. (note: Another favorite! Very cute)

Hello Hurricane : Rated T, 61k words, 18 chapters, Hurt/Comfort/Tragedy, Complete Sequel to "Táncol?" Elizaveta, Ludwig, Francis, and Antonio are forced to watch Gilbert slowly fade away every day. (note: It might seem like I have lots of favorites, cuz I do and this is one of them. Warning, I cried a lot towards the end. Highly recommend)

PruCan

That Song Called Love : Rated T, 62k words, 25 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Matthew had always resigned himself to a fate of musical obscurity on a supporting instrument, but after meeting an ex-delinquent named Gilbert, he just might learn to take the lead. (note: contains other minor pairings. Although she doesn’t play a huge role I’m so happy Vietnam is in it Dx)

Operation Not to Hot : Rated T, 10k words, 2 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete Gilbert Beilschmidt is dorky, nerdy, and has serious confidence issues. He doesn't really care about himself until he sees Matthew Williams, AKA super-hot-hockey-jock. With Matthew's heart in mind, Gilbert undergoes a complete transformation. (note: funny story. Prussia being Prussia)

Overdue : Rated T, 12k words, 8 chapters, Romance/Supernatural, Complete "Well, Gott, Mattie, at least look someone in the eye when you tell them you're a ghost. Make a good impression!" (note: cute lil one-shot series)

I Have all Summer to Fall For You : Rated T, 162k words, 38 chapters, Incomplete At school, Gilbert makes fun of Matthew, and Matthew just wants to be left alone. But then when the hot days of summer roll around, and they have nothing but free time, things happen that NO ONE could have planned for! (note: MY ALL-TIME FAV PRUCAN FiC Ever. Probably will never finish but the length and quality make up for it)

PruAus

Please Don’t Read the Verdict : Rated M, 57k words, 11 chapters, Romance/Crime, Incomplete District Attorney Roderich Edelstein is faced with a gruesome, controversial murder. He has three months to build a case against the accused, but more than his will to prosecute may be destroyed in the process. (note: sadly not done, but highly interesting!)

Lily of the Lamplight : Rated M, 27k words, 4 chapters, Romance/Angst, Incomplete WW2 AU. Austrian musician Roderich and German soldier Gilbert are forced into an army prison unit and a fight for survival on the Russian Front. But in the midst of blood and death and hell on earth, how long can they fight their desire for each other? (note: MY 👏 FAV 👏 VERAVERSE 👏 I loveeee this fic, I’m so SAD it’s nEvEr going to be completed. Savor those 4 chapters. Luckily theyre long *cries* Also love the set of main characters, including Prussia, Austria, Berwald, and Poland. Also listen to the song the title is based off of, i luv it too)

SuFin

Cheers to a New Life : Rated M, 94k words, 47 chapters, Romance/Family, Complete Sweden could only find a job as a Kindergarten teacher and the famous Kirkland's little Peter happens to be enrolled into his class. But it is not Mr. Arthur Kirkland who is picking Peter up, it's this angel with the greatest ass Berwald's ever seen. (note: viewer discretion, mostly on later chapters. also has cute lil Peter/Sealand)

My Heart, In Segments : Rated T, 14k words, 10 chapters, Family/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Berwald is a man left alone, and Peter was a kid left behind. Berwald's not really the perfect dad, Peter's not really innocent anymore, and Tino's not really sure he's ready for something so real. But, maybe... Maybe it's time.

In Want of a Wife : Rated T, 41k words, 18 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete Berwald's life is turned upside down when he is accepted into Hetalia International University, and everything changes for the better when he catches a glimpse of his future wife who lives down the hall. Who cares if Tino doesn't accept it yet? (note: Human AU; Lietpol is a bonus in all this hehe)

Treatment : Rated T, 55k words, 12 chapters, Romance/Humor, Incomplete Tino is a young psychology major, well known for being kind and eager to help others with their issues, but less so for his habit of profiling "patients" on campus. His therapist's eye has fixed on Berwald, but will he be the one who ends up on the couch? (note: Though not fully done, it’s one of my favorite sufin fics. Also hilarious bahah)

Catch Perfect : Rated T, 35k words, 8 chapters, Romance/Friendship, Incomplete When Berwald loses everything he is forced to move into a share house with an insane Dane, a sociopathic Norwegian, an unfathomable Icelander and a perfect Finn who makes it all worth putting up with. (note: can be crazy and random, which is probs why I liked it so much. also by George deValier I believe, reposted onto wattpad after it got deleted)

DenNor

Hummingbird : Rated T, 61k words, 12 chapters, Tragedy/Hurt/Comfort, Complete Lukas' only goal in life was to take care of his younger brother, until he was diagnosed with an irregular heart rhythm. His originally peaceful stay in hospital was interrupted when the loud, cheerful Mathias was moved into the bed beside him and refused to leave him alone; yet as his health began to deteriorate, the Dane decided to fall in love with him. (note: I love this fic so much, it’s also another favorite of mine. Very cute but with lots of angst, ahhh just what I ordered)

Secret Crowds : Rated M, 3.4k words, One-shot, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete An explosion leaves Denmark with a permanent brain injury and Norway struggles to find his role in their relationship as the line between lover and caregiver begins to blur. (sad and touching)

I also read a lot of DenNor so im like ?? where the fics at LOL. but i think i read more DenNor doujinshis, so that’s def something yall should look into

Spamano

A Beautiful Story : Rated T, 16k words, 10 chapters, Tragedy/Romance, Complete Lovino Romano Vargas is a suicidal designer who is unhappy with his fate. One day, he chances to meet Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, who turns his life upside down.

Flashlight : Rated T, 38k words, 11 chapters, Parody/Romance, Complete "If I throw a tomato at you, vampire bastard, will you still sparkle under the sauce?" (note: OKAY SO This is actually a Twilight parody w Romano as Bella and Spain as Edward. I don’t really like Twilight but I really like this version of it lmao. Funny and a good read. Mostly Romano’s POV, cRACK )

New Batteries : Rated T, 41k words, 10 chapters, Humor/Romance, Complete Sequel to Flashlight. "WELL, I NEVER LIKED YOU, EITHER. WHAT NOW, YOU STUPID SPARKLY EXCUSE OF A VAMPIRE?" (note: also a parody, just the sequel to the previous one listed. I understand the Twilight plot through these better than the original)

Kismet : Rated M, 174k words, 52 chapters, Romance/Fantasy, Complete Lovino learns the hard way that things change and that they can change quickly. The necklace fell and now he's in a strange land far from home. Will he ever see his brother again? Will he find his way home? Or will he discover home is where the heart is? Fate is a strange woman and can work in mysterious ways. (note: RATED M, viewer discretion. the author has a list of warnings on the first chapter you can look at so you know what you’re reading. Fantasy AU)

Catch You, Catch Me : Rated M, (basically)37k words, 7 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete Clumsy, clueless detective Romano is on the trail of the infamous handsome and charming thief El Apasionado Caballero. But there's more to this, what seems like a simple game of cat and mouse, than meets the eye.

The Bet : Rated T, 20k words, 9 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete When someone kisses you, and then moves away you'd think that would be it. But when Antonio comes back from Spain he wants Lovino to be his again. Except Lovino now hates Antonio...which sucks for Lovino because Antonio isn't going to let go that easily.

Zero Tolerance : Rated M, 55k words, 24 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Lovino lives a perfect life. Or atleast thats how he is suppose to appear. Antonio lives a life as a dangerous gangbanger. North Side meets South Side as these two are partnered in their Chemistry class. But there is one chemical reaction these 2 arent prepared for- Love. (highschool AU)

Breathless in the Atmosphere : Rated T, 31k words, 3 chapters, Hurt/Comfort/Romance, Complete Antonio only needed money for marble. He needed to make his art. And a chance encounter on the subway offers him a job as a male escort. It was just for the money. He could stop anytime he wanted to. Really. (note: viewer discretion advised. contains prostitution and suicidal ideation)

Before the Snow Falls : Rated T, 19k words, 2 chapters, Romance/Drama, Complete Lovino, jersey number nine, right winger. He was ready to pass the ball, ready to set up the win, but Antonio, opposite team, center fielder, was ready too. Someone thought, and someone didn't, and they crashed. Hard. A few months later, Lovino's on crutches, Antonio has scholarships, and they have to deal with the aftermath of what happened.

Door to Door : Rated T, 3.5k words, One-shot, Humor/Romance, Complete Do not open the door. It could be a zombie, an unwanted boyfriend of your brother's, or a persistant salesman by the name Antonio Carriedo.

Numbered Lithograph : Rated M, 133k words, 29 chapters, Drama/Romance, Complete When Lovino starts attending art school with his brother he finds his most important lesson doesn't come from his professors, but from a culinary student at a sister school: sometimes the flaws hold the beauty. (note: Probably my favorite spamano fic. Very touching. Has fluff and angst)

Bésame Mucho : Rated M, 48k words, 6 chapter, Angst/Romance, Incomplete WW2 AU. Lovino Vargas only ever wanted something exciting to happen in his boring, everyday Italian village existence. He never expected war, Resistance, love, passion, treason, or a cheerful, confusing, irritatingly attractive Spanish freedom fighter. (note: ANOTHER 👏 ONE 👏OF👏MY👏FAVS👏 BUT SAD BC ITLL NEVER FINISH HDUEOFREGH. Also by George DeValier and reuploaded onto wattpad (originally on ff.net)! I’m in love with the writing. Incomplete but sooo worth the read.)

Bad Touch Trio (may or may not contain pairings/slight pairings)

Oh No, We’re Hot : Rated T, 1.4k words, One-shot, Friendship/Humor, Complete In which, after a summer apart, the Bad Touch Trio realizes that they have become really attractive. Really slight hinted Spamano. (note: I absolutely love the BTT, this is a cute short fic about them)

The Trap : Rated T, 4.7k words, One-shot, Friendship/Humor, Complete The prompt was Prussia and Spain meeting France for the first time, thinking he's a girl, kiddy-courting him, then finding out he's a boy, but still kiddy-courting him. Exactly as wacky as it sounds. (note: another cute story about the BTT and their rad friendship! I need this in my life)

Multiple Pairings

Playing Cupid : Rated T, 24k words, 15 chapters, Romance/Humor, Complete In Everett High School there is a secret club called the yaoi club. It is their job, during Sadies, to set up couples. This year Elizabeta has an ambitious plan. She is going to find a date for the infamous Lovino Vargas. Her choice is Antonio, unfortunately half the girls want to ask him too. Will she and her friends succeed? Spamano, UsUk, Prucan, GerIta, others (note: very cute highschool AU! highly recommend! also contains many of the hetalia girls, which is amazing~)

No Pairings

Bad Pasta : Rated T, 13k words, 6 chapter, Mystery/Tragedy, Complete Kiku and Arthur trade rooms. (note: Author also made a game based on this posted on deviantart: Bad Pasta game. I really liked it, especially since I’m into hetalia fangames and whatnot. warning, contains death of characters)

Fun with Former Vikings : Rated K+, 63k words, 17 chapters, Friendship/Family, Complete Brothers that are too awkward to even stand next to each other, husband and 'wife,' and that one guy that drinks a lot. The Nordics couldn't be any more different. And neither could the situations they get themselves into. (note: I love love love the Nordics. This is also probably one of my all-time favs. I love them as bros Dx)

God Only Threw the Humans out of Paradise : Rated K+, 4.5k words, One-shot, Friendship, Complete 12 years is nothing in the life of a Nation. But to a puppy, it's a lifetime. This is a look at 12 years of England's life through the eyes of man's best friend.

Gutters : Rated M, 98k words, 20 chapters, Adventure/Drama, Complete 'The Calamity' has left the world stripped and dying. Alone in a civilian bunker in Munich, Sealand will be reunited with the last known living member of his surrogate family and together, they will set out across Europe to find those they have lost. (note: It’s an adventure story starring Sealand and Denmark. Can be really intense and eMOTIONAL i cried like a bitch, highly recommend. Probably one of my 👏 favorite👏 fics of all time)

Ditches : Rated M, 2.4k words, 2 chapters, Drama/Family, Incomplete Prequel to Gutters. In the days leading up to The Calamity, the world braces and families struggle not to be torn apart.

Breathe Me : Rated T, 66k words, 21 chapters, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Complete "God I'm so fat." "No, Alfred. You're not. You're –" "Stop it! I am and you know it! The whole world knows! Just stop okay?" Trigger Warning, Human AU, and F.A.C.E. Family. (note: very important TRIGGER WARNING due to mention of eating disorders, verbal abuse, self-harm, and suicidal thoughts.)

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echodrops · 4 years

Text

Kicking the Hornet’s Nest...

I’m procrastinating hard on other tasks, but in chit-chatting (both on tumblr and on Discord) about my stance on criticism of fanfiction, I realized that there’s a very low-hanging analogy I can make to explain my thoughts on this, so…

Uh first, please remember this is my personal blog and just my personal opinion. If you think that giving unsolicited concrit is the worst, I promise I’m not here to grab you individually, shake you by the shoulders, and try to change your minds. We can agree to disagree; I’m fully aware my opinion is unpopular on tumblr but also fully aware of the irony of people giving unsolicited criticism on a post about why unsolicited criticism is a good thing.

And second, please note that the analogy used below is only an analogy and not meant to be a one-to-one comparison–obviously the issue of vaccination is a far more critical, serious, and solemn issue and the topic of criticism on fanfiction (of all things) is not equal to a global health crisis that has cost real people’s lives. I’m drawing radical comparisons to thought processes because it’s shocking, not genuinely comparing fanfiction comments to moral and ethical world health decisions because I think those two things are equitable in importance.

Uh and third, please don’t respond unless you’re going to read it all. I'm happy to take your constructive criticism after you're finished with the whole thing. I get so tired of people rushing to my inbox after only getting half way through my arguments–90% of the time, I already addressed the thing you wanted to come yell at me about and you just didn’t make it there, promise.

So, at the risk of pissing off just about everyone who thought they respected me before this:

The current anti-concrit mindset stems from a similar logic to the one used by anti-vaxxers.

(This analogy lasts a grand total of five paragraphs or something, don’t get your jimmies too rustled.)

Most people on tumblr are happy–downright gleeful–to mock anti-vaxxers. The average anti-vaxxer is considered close-minded, self-centered, and under-educated. Although the issue of anti-vaxxing is probably more complicated than we paint it here on this website (to be fair, I wouldn’t know if it’s more complicated, since I agree that anti-vaxxers are generally stupid and don’t look into their arguments very often), almost no one on tumblr has any issue with anti-vaxxers being dragged up and down the block for their bad choices.

Usually, the logic of anti-vaxxers is understood to work something like this:

Anti-vaxxer: I don’t want to expose my child to something potentially harmful, so I am not going to vaccinate them.

Literally everyone else: You’re exposing your child to far greater risk in the long-term by not vaccinating.

Or:

Anti-vaxxer: My child doesn’t need to be vaccinated; they’re fine as they are. Those diseases aren’t a big deal anymore.

Literally everyone else: This mindset will make those diseases a big deal again.

On paper, sometimes anti-vaxxer logic works out–it is true that some children suffer very painful and awful reactions to vaccinations. It IS true that poorly made or contaminated vaccinations have killed children and will continue to do in the future. It IS true that vaccinations are painful and stressful for children in general and can even–depending on how the children respond to pain and how their doctors/nurses treat them–result in long-term phobias and health care aversion. There can be serious lasting consequences from vaccinating.

But most of us laugh in the face of anti-vaxxers. Why? Because we know that in comparison to the number of benefits, the risks are minimal. In the long-term, the number of people helped by vaccines far, far exceeds the number of people hurt.

I hope you can see where I’m going. At its core, the issue of giving unsolicited constructive criticism follows a similar pattern of short-term risk aversion. Authors who don’t want constructive criticism and choose to actively refuse it are following a similar thought process to anti-vaxxer parents:

Author: I don’t want any constructive criticism. Criticism can be painful, and my writing doesn’t need to be exposed to that.

Or:

Author: I don’t need any constructive criticism because my writing is fine as it is and I’m just doing it for fun anyway.

The general attitude seems to be that exposing fanfiction authors to unsolicited constructive criticism carries more risk than it does reward. And please be aware that I’m talking about genuinely constructive criticism here, well-intentioned and polite comments (the vaccine in this analogy), not troll comments deliberately designed to hurt people’s feelings (which would be equivalent to say, an injected contaminated drug in this analogy–no one should be okay with those).

But like anti-vaxxers who insist that the short-term risks of vaccines are more dangerous than the long-term risks of major diseases… is there really any evidence that genuinely constructive criticism, even when unsolicited, really does discourage and upset a large number of fanfiction authors? Or, more to the point of the analogy–is the number of people who would be entirely discouraged from writing ever again by some constructive criticism really greater than the number of people who would benefit from getting some (again, polite) tips for improving their writing? Which is the greater risk–being hurt in the short-term or losing out on the opportunity for growth in the long-term?

Clearly there are different opinions on this and I suspect that my opinion is heavily colored by the fact that I am older than the average tumblr user and therefore have many more years to look back on to weigh on the scales of this debate.

But I will always, always argue that the long-term benefits of helping other writers where you can far, far, far outweigh the short-term risks, for a couple reasons.

1) The world is a shitty, disappointing, stressful, and painful place. We encounter harsh criticisms every single day. Your teachers will give you poor grades. Your bosses will tell you your work isn’t up-to-par. Your friends will tell you the new top you bought and absolutely love… actually makes you look like you’re wearing a potato sack. If you’re into relationships, you’ll probably experience at least one break-up in which you hear that it’s YOU, not them, who is the problem. Your feelings will be hurt by callous comments from others an uncountable number of times. Your confidence will be shaken, if not actively crushed. I’m sorry to say it, but for almost all of us, having some miserable, anxiety-inducing and extremely discouraging moments in life is part of the unavoidable human experience. (And this is doubly, maybe triply true when we are starting out new hobbies or first entering a new field. Anyone who has ever tried to learn how to skateboard and gotten laughed at by experienced skateboarders knows exactly what I’m talking about.)

The world is full of truly awful things. And I’m not the kind of person who thinks we should just be exposed to all of them right from the get-go and fuck you and your snowflake feelings or things like that. I highly urge people to tag for triggering content and am on the record again and again telling people to block characters or ships that make them uncomfortable.

But many fanfiction authors are young authors, some of whom are posting work for public consumption for the very first time. Still more have no positive experiences with constructive criticism in the first place, and the extent of their literary criticism knowledge comes from really awful and boring high school English classes. When budding writers encounter a sudden explosion of access to readers–from having maybe one or two friends read their work to suddenly having their words in front of the eyes of thousands of strangers on the internet:

It’s disingenuous to give starting writers nothing but positive feedback. Only hearing positives about your work actively discourages change and self-reflection. It gives writers an unrealistic picture of their work that can result in far more serious disappointment and embarrassment later. When someone is awful at singing and they’re only told how nice their voice is, eventually when they sing for a more serious group of strangers, they’re going to be in for a very, very miserable time.

It’s a terrible missed opportunity for young writers to get a glimpse of what “professional” writing is like. Everyone benefits from genuinely constructive criticism–both the person getting it and the person giving it. We create young writers who are passionate about improving their writing by inducting them into the culture of planning, drafting, bouncing ideas off each other, finding beta readers, and taking others’ advice to grow their abilities, and oftentimes, one of the first experiences a person has with that process is someone spontaneously going “Hey, what if you tried this instead?” People often become inspired to become doctors and nurses after witnessing a family member experience a medical crisis–people often become inspired to become writers after receiving thorough feedback on things they have written. It’s impossible to really know whether or not you want a piece of constructive criticism until after you have heard what the criticism is, and adopting a “no unsolicited constructive criticism” policy as a whole creates an entire generation of fan writers who would miss out on opportunities for growth and inspiration.

This is waxing REALLY philosophical, but bear with me here, because this is also a well-documented concern of mine: we are entering an age in which people are no longer responsible for the media choices they make, where the internet is no longer viewed as a the equivalent of yelling into a crowd of (potentially dangerous) strangers, and the onus for protection is shifting away from self-preservation��“I need to not put myself near upsetting things” to “other people have the responsibility not to expose me to upsetting things.” I’ve seen a lot of people say “If authors want constructive criticism on their fics, they can just say that in a note!” My ladies. My guys. My non-binary buddies. This is the utter opposite of how the internet functions. When you put anything on the internet, you are literally putting it before a crowd of an absolutely uncountable number of strangers and there are no rules (barring the laws of their home countries) dictating how they can respond to the things you put out there. Posting your writing on the internet is explicit consent to receive constructive criticism from anyone at any time unless you take actions to prevent that in advance. Sites like AO3 actively grant you the power to dictate who can SEE your work, comment on your work, give you the power to remove messages, screen comments before they appear, block comments entirely, or simply write in any of your notes sections that you do not want constructive criticism. (If it’s that easy to write “I want constructive criticism!” why is not seen as equally easy to write “I do not want constructive criticism!”?)

Public spaces on the internet are opt out, not opt in.

Why do many (though lord knows, not all) tumblr users easily agree to the idea of “If you don’t like a ship, you should just block it” or “If you see properly tagged content you don’t like on AO3 and you click it, that’s your own fault for not reading the tags,” but have the complete opposite mindset when it comes to constructive criticism? “I’m submitting my work in a public place where anyone can express their opinion on it… But even though there are multiple tools at my disposal for discouraging and blocking opinions I don’t agree with, it’s actually other people’s responsibility not to say anything that might upset me.”

As I said, waxing philosophical here, but this is kind of a scary mindset. The ability to enter a public space–and the internet is the MOST public space in the world–and then declare that you simply don’t want to listen to dissenting opinions is scary. I mean, this is how we get a common anti-vaxxer mindset–I don’t want to listen to your opinion because I have my source telling me I’m right and that’s all I need. “I put my work out in a public place and left it accessible to everyone, but I don’t want to listen to what everyone says about it.” I don’t mean to jump off the slippery slope, but this issue is a slippery slope in and of itself. Down this way lies a dark future. “It’s other people’s responsibility to curate my social experience for me.”

But really, after all this… I just flat out think it’s important to give genuinely constructive criticism to each other without people needing to ask for it because it just kind of sucks to see a fellow writer struggling with something and not say something about it. It’s not about feeling superior or thinking you know better than someone else; we all have our own strengths and weaknesses, and spotting something that could use a bit of work in someone else’s writing doesn’t make you a better writer, it just means that’s not your particular weakness. When someone is struggling to learn to swim, you don’t just leave them to their own devices and assume they’ll figure it out–even if they swear they’ve got it. When someone is learning to sew and you, who has sewed that exact thing before, don’t offer any advice, that’s not encouragement, it’s apathy. There will be many, many, many times in your life where you did not know you needed advice. Where you did not know HOW to ask for advice. Where you might have known you needed advice but not really wanted to admit that. Where you might have known you needed advice and been too shy to ask for help. Where a piece of advice completely from the blue changes the course of your life. Fandom as a whole–fan creators as a whole–cannot become a culture that closes the door to that vital form of communication, rejects willingness to not only uplift but also help each other grow even when we least expect it.

Anyway, I’m literally just writing this to avoid real responsibilities, but the point I’m trying to make is:

Most writers, even very young writers, will not be discouraged by polite, well-intentioned criticism. They may not like it. They may not take any of the criticism to heart, but most people, even young people, are far more resilient than tumblr (which on the best of days is a negative feedback loop that can romanticize a victim mindset because having the saddest backstory makes you immune to cancellation) wants to give them credit for, and a vast majority of writers will not be traumatized or scared away from writing by people trying to offer them genuine advice. Remember, no one here is advocating for asshole trolls who post comments like “Your writing sucks and you should delete your account.” A majority of writers, even very young writers, will be able to weather the storms and tosses of even really rudely-worded advice and recover. Sometimes it might take a while, but human beings have survived as a species because we’re really, really persevering.

(But some people aren’t! you might say. Some people really will give up writing if they’re criticized! And you’d be correct. There are people who will give up, even if all they are faced with is a single gentle, well-intentioned piece of criticism. But the truth is… People give up on hobbies for all kinds of reasons! Not every hobby is for every person! Every hobby carries with it its own challenges, its own share of risks, and its own pains. Learning a new hobby consistently requires putting yourself out of your comfort zone. Wanna learn how to ride a snowboard? You will get bruised. Wanna learn how to play chess? You will lose. Wanna learn to draw? Someone will make fun of your early drawings. You will make fun of your own early drawings. Wanna post your writing on a public platform? Someday, someone is going to say they’re not a fan.

And that leads me to address the point that just keeps coming up and coming up in this issue: People aren’t always posting their fics to improve as writers! A lot of times people are posting for just fun or for personal reasons.

Yeahhhhh bullshit. No, no, hang on–I don’t mean that people don’t have fun writing and posting fics, or that fics can’t help you through traumatic experiences because everything I’ve ever posted is basically me dealing with my own personal shit–what I mean is that there’s always an additional dimension to posting your fics on large-scale public websites. People write stories and share them with their friend groups for fun. People write characters overcoming trauma and share them with their therapists (or the friends who help to fill that role) for healing. People post their stories publicly, where anyone can respond, for validation on top of their fun and healing. There are ways to hide your fics entirely on many sites. You can leave things in drafts. If a fic is appearing as unmoderated and open to the public on a major fic site such as AO3, Wattpad, ff.net, etc., it’s because that fic’s author wants responses from others! They want views. They want subscribes. They want kudos. They want comments. There’s literally no reason to post publicly except for your work to be viewed by the public.

The fun one has writing a fic is often tied directly to the thrill of seeing a comment or kudos notification pop-up in your inbox. We love seeing people enjoy our fics–it absolutely makes my day when someone sends me a message telling me they re-read my fic for the third time.

It’s NOT fun to write something and get no response.

Writing something and getting no response is actively discouraging, actually.

So whenever someone says “They’re not writing fics to improve as writers; they’re just doing it for fun!” I have to laugh a bit–because when the concept of “fun with fanfiction” is tied so closely to the experience of having your work viewed and enjoyed by others, the fastest and surest way to increase the fun you have with your fanfics… is to improve as a writer. The more you write, the more you improve. The more you improve, the more loyal readers you gain. The more loyal readers you gain, the more excited people you have to gush about your fics with. Want a Discord server full of people willing to help you brainstorm ideas for your favorite AU? Write well, attract followers. Want fanart of your writing, probably the most fun and exciting thing I can think of as an author? Write well. Just plain old want more friends in the fandom to talk about your favorite characters and fic ideas with? Make writer friends.

People have fun writing about their favorite characters and post publicly to receive responses and validation for their creations… Responses increase the fun writers have because they make the hard work of writing worth it and give you people to keep writing for and with… Improving your writing increases the number of people attracted to your works and the number of people willing to spend time responding to them… The bigger the response you get, the more invested you become in your fics, the more fandom friends you make, and the more you want to write–it’s a process that is self-fulfilling, but also one that exposes you to criticism by its very nature. The very act of seeking responses from readers means that you’re open to responses that you don’t necessarily want to hear.

And I actually don’t mean this in the way of “If you can’t handle the heat, don’t jump into the fire.” What I mean is that it is impossible to create a world in which everyone who starts writing sticks with the hobby and keeps churning out works for us to enjoy forever. It is impossible to create a world in which no young writer will ever feel discouraged and give up. The writer you decided not to give constructive criticism to might just as easily become discouraged and quit writing because they didn’t receive enough response.

The first time you give your child a new vaccine, you cannot predict the results. Your child might suffer an allergic reaction. They might die. Every year, numerous severe reactions to vaccines do occur. But the majority of people don’t question the effectiveness of vaccines because we understand that the number of people who have severe reactions is very low in comparison to the number of people who benefit from the vaccine. The number of people who will be discouraged from writing by genuine, polite, constructive criticism is minuscule in comparison to the number of people who will either 1) benefit from it directly and be thankful you gave it, 2) not benefit but not be upset by it, 3) be mildly upset by it but then benefit, or 4) just be mildly upset by itself and then move on with life unharmed because sometimes people say things we don’t like but that doesn’t ruin our lives every single time it happens.

I’m not saying that providing polite constructive criticism doesn’t have risks, just that its risks are smaller than its benefits.

And I’ve successfully whittled enough time away with this now that I can go to sleep without guilt over the things I didn’t finish, but I started this by saying the long-term benefits outweighed the short-term risks and I feel obligated to defend that…

The long-term benefits of well-placed constructive criticism are enormous. Sometimes people need ego checks. Sometimes we need wake-up calls. Sometimes we need a gentle helping hand and didn’t even realize other people could be the help we needed. Sometimes we need a reason to get fired up–even if that reason is spite, trying to prove a critic wrong! Sometimes the answer is glaring us in the face and we don’t notice until someone else points it out. Sometimes we just plain out make mistakes. Sometimes we need a teacher because the ones in school let us down. Sometimes (oftentimes) other people bring incredibly unique perspectives to our stories that we would never have been open to on our own. Sometimes we write something unintentionally hurtful and need some gentle correction. Sometimes we could be having a lot more fun if we knew the tips and tricks others had to offer. Sometimes improving ourselves is hard but worth it. Sometimes bitter medicine is the only thing that will cure an ailment.

Shots hurt. People avoid them because they aren’t fun–what parent wants to expose their child to the painful, stressful situation of getting stabbed with needles? (What parent looks forward to the yearly flu shot themselves?)

We naturally flinch back from criticism. There are many times when we swear we don’t want it, don’t need it, can’t bear it! In the moment, it is incredibly difficult to be confronted with someone basically implying that you should change something integral to yourself–your art. No one likes to feel like they’re being picked apart for weaknesses, definitely not.

But sometimes a single comment can make a massive difference in your life–even when you didn’t want it at first.

All my life, I have been helped along by teachers, family, and friends who refused to settle for patting me on the back. The people who mean the most to me, who I most credit with getting me where I am today, are not the people who just told me I was good at things. They’re the people who told me I was good at things BUT. They people who challenged me to not just sail through life or even coast in my hobbies, content with the level I entered on–they’re the people who had faith in me and trust that I could refine my skills, could have even more fun IF I took that next step, challenged myself to go a bit harder… They’re the people who took the time not just to skim over my writing and slap a thumbs up on it, but the people who thought hard enough about it go: “This story was good, but have you thought about…”

Today, I’m a professor of English because I started writing fanfiction when I was 11 years old. Because I started posting fanfiction when I was 13. Because at 14 years old, someone–without being asked–taught me the correct way to format dialogue and how to strengthen my dialogue tags. Because at 15, someone flat out laughed to tears at a cliche metaphor I’d extended too far and I was ashamed, but they taught me something else to try instead. Because by 18, I’d received–and taken–enough unsolicited writing advice to land myself the highest paying on-campus tutoring job my university offered. Because by 19, someone challenged me to write something I told them was impossible for me. Because by 20, that impossible writing became the sample that got me accepted to grad school. Because by 21, I was furious enough at the criticism I received from my creative writing masters classmates to write a thesis so feverishly overwhelming that it inspired one of the foremost postmodern poets in the country. Because by 27, it was brutally honest criticism that gave me the gall to finally leave an abusive job and apply for a teaching position. Because by 30, I got to sit at a public literary journal volume launch and watch an entire class of my creative writing students become published authors.

And even though I joked about why I was writing this, and even though I’m really not, at the heart of it, trying to persuade any one person over to my side, I hope it’s clear how much of a labor of love this post is. How passionate I am about this topic.

This whole thing is a drawn-out plea: Please, do not let fandom creation sites become a place where no one offers advice unless it is begged for. Do not miss your chance to help someone else improve. Do not close the door to criticism that could change your life. Do not let fear of short-term discouragement prevent you from seeking long-term growth. Do not let the immediate side effects cloud your view of the global benefits.

Inoculate yourselves with good advice as a shield against the very hard future.

A dearth of criticism will not make fandom a better place. It will just make it a quieter one.

#anyone want to take bets on how long it takes someone to get outraged #skip reading the actual argument itself #and put something in the replies or my ask box that was blatantly answered on this post itself #it's 4am so like I give it about ten minutes #writing #fanfiction #constructive criticism #I tire more each day of tumblr's bizarre ways of thinking #like could you imagine if this was the attitude in any other hobby #nah bro #I know I almost broke my arm back there but I don't want any skateboarding advice #I got this #yeah I know the horse has broken loose and is kicking people but have you tried NOT commenting on that #you didn't brace your sculpture correctly and it no longer resembles what the art gallery expected #Jesus ask before you give concrit for once

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ask-the-guiding-light-cast · 5 years

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Any plans after the end, amby?

The short answer is I don’t know. The long answer is that it’s complicated and there’s something I need to confess after this break:

I am not a medical researcher. My actual current “job” is... a medical student. As in, I’m in med school. Trying to get an MD degree and use it for a career. The truth is that I started posting Guiding Light during, like, my second week in med school. The entire time I’ve been plodding along, trying to keep my regular upload schedule, I’ve been attending classes and studying for a variety of exams.

Why did I never mention it? I honestly thought that, given my health issues, I’d wind up pulling out after one semester. Buuuut that didn’t end up happening. I’m now at a point where it makes more sense for me to finish the degree, despite (and because of) my ongoing health issues. See, I’m American, and have to deal with the American health insurance system. Without insurance, it would cost me well over $100,000 a year to manage my conditions. But high-ranking health care professionals like doctors frequently have very good insurance plans. With my student health plan, for example, I typically only have to pay about $500 a year for assorted medications, doctor visits, and chemo infusions. I’m not willing to take the risk of moving out of the medical field and finding out my insurance isn’t good enough to cover my health care costs enough for me to live comfortably with whatever salary I put in.

“But, wait, Amby. Isn’t med school expensive? How can you afford things like art commissions if you’re a student?” you say. A lot of it came down to luck and I’m not comfortable discussing it publicly. If you’re really curious, you can DM me, I guess. But I digress.

Even now, there’s a voice in my head telling me fic-writing just isn’t do able for someone in my position. The counterargument that I always use is the popular nuzlocke comic Myths of Unova, which ran from 2011-2017. The creator, kylee/kynimdraws is an MD/Ph.D. student — which typically requires 7-8 years of school, whereas MD students attend for four years — and worked on the comic while working toward her degree. She’s also heavily involved in the Korean Overwatch League.

The problem for me was that I didn’t know how to pace myself properly. At first, I would write about 1000 words every day, typically before my classes started. But when the second year began, things changed. The amount of material I had to go through left me too physically and mentally exhausted to sit down and write. I just wanted to do mindless things like watch TV.

It’s really my fault. I didn’t expect the fic to get much in the way of attention, but I also thought the best way to get feedback was to A) offer comments on other people’s stories, and B) keep a regular update schedule. The former worked pretty well for Serebii, while the latter led to people noticing the fic on FFN.

I don’t know the ages of most of my readers. But because second year sapped so much of my time and energy, I wound up in a position where I couldn’t keep writing and follow all the fics I was following. I really wanted to finish Guiding Light, so I focused my attention on it. As a result, there are a lot of fics by talented authors — a few of whom gave me advice earlier on that really helped me improve — that I just couldn’t keep up with anymore. I’d tag them all, but I don’t want to shock them out of nowhere. Many of them are around my age and also busy themselves. Hence, I understand why they can’t read my stuff, either. I just feel guilty about all of it.

When the FFN version gained more attention, I honestly felt pressured to keep updating and to try and force myself to write. I figured the people reading were younger (as in, still in school) and, if I didn’t update, they’d go find another fic to look at. I think I even said this before, but one of the reasons I started the blog was in the hopes that it’d spur my writing efforts, but the results were... mixed. And this was all before I got extremely sick in April/May and gave myself a stress ulcer.

It’s also part of why I ask people to comment on the story. In school, I rarely get any feedback unless I screw something up. My self-esteem sucked to begin with, so it’s hard to stay motivated and keep up with my coursework when there isn’t any positive reinforcement. And I expect that to get worse when I move into my clinical work starting in January.

It’s also why I’m desperate to finish drafting the fic this year. Not because of Gen VIII, but because once I move into the clinic, I will have a lot less time on my hands. It will be very difficult for me to keep up you guys, even through something like Discord. The fact that I’m drafting the final episode is definitely helping my motivation, but feedback and comments from others are undeniably a good source of positive reinforcement for any artist. Even a sentence or two can make someone’s day.

So, as for what the future holds, I really don’t know. I’d like to write other things, but that’s going to depend a lot on what my life looks like in 2020 and beyond. I wish I could’ve found the courage to join the fanfic community at a younger age, instead of silently reading. But I didn’t. If I do write anything beyond the end of Guiding Light, it will be smaller-scale pieces. Fewer battles. Shorter battles. Fluffy pieces. Quiet moments between characters. Maybe some silly stuff. I don’t really know. We’ll see what happens.

In the meantime, my big hope is that I can end the fic in a way that makes you all happy. I had a range of ending options planned, but finally settled on one a few months back. I’m very worried it will be poorly-received, which is why I’m doing the best I can with these chapters.

So, thank you to everyone who’s offered support. Here’s hoping you like the final episode.

#ooc #rant #future plans #anon

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soul-music-is-life · 5 years

Note

I've seen some of your post on the bullshit heartbeat bill in your state and I'm just wondering how you're dealing.

I have stared at this ask for a while, wondering whether or not I wanted to get in depth into this conversation. But I do have a lot to say on the matter. A while back I drafted a blog post that I toyed with sharing, but ultimately held off. Until now.

There’s…a lot to be covered.

First, thank you for sparking me to put this out there. I feel as though it’s important enough to say what I have to say on this. And though this platform is usually used for fandom stuff (I use other platforms for my political stuff), I’m not afraid to get real now and again.

Second, let me state that I have a background in medicine and a family heavily involved and working in politics…so I know how this goes.

I’m going to pre-empt this by saying that I am not going to argue with anyone who is pro-life who reads and disagrees. If you agree, great. If you disagree, there is no point in trying to fight me…because we will never see eye to eye.

This is strictly an argument based on why I’m against politics and religion in medicine. I am not looking for a debate here. There is no debate to be had. If you can’t look at things without religion, or if you can’t understand scientific/medical facts it’s a moot point.

It’s a long one. Saddle up.

Religion vs. Medicine:

Christianity should have no place in medicine (the bible condemns polyester blends, playing with pigskin, gambling, and divorce, but Christians still shop til they drop, support football, play the lottery, and divorce their spouses). Yet we get lawmakers constantly using the bible as a talking point (”Thank God” and “As God intended”) for this argument and ignoring testimony from physicians with degrees in science.

Men (with the exception of those whose sperm fertilized an egg in a consensual act) should have no say in what happens inside of a uterus that does not belong to them (and even then, it should be a discussion between those two people and their doctor, not a government made up of religious zealot white women and white-boys without uteri).

The government should not infringe upon individual rights of medical privacy via HIPAA.

Basically:

If you can not argue without the basis of religion (or you keep using “God” or The Bible as your baseline) or if you are not someone who has a uterus or in the medical profession or a woke dude/lady, you have no fucking say.

If you are a Christian forcing your beliefs upon the population based upon a magical book that has absolutely no proof, you have no fucking say. (see Separation of Church and State).

If you are a politician forcing your agenda upon every person with a uterus based upon something you can absolutely never experience, you have no fucking say.

If you do not have a background in science and you’re basing your opinions upon a movie (”Unplanned”) that is nothing more than political propaganda (and a pro-life “advocate” who saw dollar signs and a means to fame) then you have no fucking say (and yes, I’ve seen the film, which was nothing more than a religious backed, over-dramatized flick poorly representing abortions and relied heavily upon cheap emotional manipulation and inaccurate CGI). As someone who has seen medical procedures…it was exaggerated in the film. It is absolutely not a representation of safe and legal abortions. It also does not address the confidentiality between patient/doctor (See HIPAA and the testimony of physicians in this matter).

The fact of the matter is that people who are informed, intelligent, and know about the subject in depth are against these abortion bans, because they know it’s extreme and infringes upon basic rights. This includes women, our allies, and in some cases…people who are religiouswho stand with the pro-choice movement (I see you all, too, don’t doubt that…this is not a reflection upon men and Christians in general. This is about the extremists).

If you fall into the extreme religious or non-medical community category or you are a politician with no medical training and you’re writing bills and arguing against basic human rights…you can shut the fuck up.

***

For the sake of facts, let’s break it down:

-Sexual education can be informative, and the preventatives used to prevent pregnancy can fail. Condoms break. The pill can fail (and let’s not even get into the horrible side effects that contraceptives have on women. Let’s talk about the fact that there was actually a birth control for men that companies tried to put on the market, but the side effects were too ‘dangerous’. Sure, like high blood pressure and hormonal imbalances are something women look forward to). But yeah, let’s put all the responsibility on the woman.

-Women are raped, and given the trauma that occurs…they should not have to PROVE they were raped in order to receive medical treatment…including abortion. It’s horrific enough as it is, and there is NO wrong way to deal with the trauma. They shouldn’t have an additional stigma to be treated medically.

-Women who tend to make the choice to have an abortion have looked at their options and have made an informed CHOICE (that’s what this is about). And it’s not always at the 6-8 week mark, because hey…there are things such as irregular periods. Cis-men hating on women, let’s talk about women’s reproduction for a minute. Have you ever spent 7 days bleeding out of an orifice of your body? Have you ever shed the lining of an internal organ? Have you ever had blood clots inside of your body that feel like fucking death? Have you ever had your panties soaked in blood? Have you ever gotten stressed and missed a period or had medical issues that caused you to have irregular cycles? No? Okay, so how about the stressors of pregnancy? How about the changes a woman’s body goes through? How about the emotional and physical toll it takes? Truth is, hetero-normal men who are so deep-set in their beliefs will NEVER view women as equal. Reality is…we women areintelligent enough to make our own decisions.

-An embryo at 6-8 weeks is not viable. The so called “heartbeat” is an electrical activity in a group of cells that is at maximum a few inches long. There is no heartbeat, because there IS no heart. It hasn’t formed. There is not a cardiovascular system. It’s a vibration in a cell. It is ONLY active because of the woman. At this point it is NOT a child. I see pro-life/pro-birth people going, “but…but SCIENCE…Life at conception!” without understanding the depth of their actual words. The medical community knows their shit. And people can challenge them all they want with their opinions upon when life is sentient, but the truth is that there is no brain activity this early because IT IS NOT A HUMAN. It is an embryo, which can not exist without the mother’s body. Yet politicians use the term “heartbeat” because they know there are uneducated people out there who will eat it up and back them.

-Abortion is situational, and trying to force a law upon women based upon the preconceived notion that ALL women are using it as a form of birth control is ignorant, ill-informed, and extremely sanctimonious. There are numerous reasons for abortion, and none of them are the government’s fucking business.

Why religion and politics is a slippery slope in medicine:

Using a religious bias in a political war is against everything in the judiciary and legislative branch, and it is a slippery slope that is dangerous to patient care. When we start listening to “Gods” and evangelical people over actual physicians there is a huge problem. Ask yourself this question: if you were dying and a surgery could save your life…would you call a priest to perform the procedure? Or a licensed physician? If you choose a priest, enjoy seeing your version of the afterlife, because you’re going to die.

Abby Johnson (”Unplanned) is not a doctor. She is someone who “found God” and is using that to exploit the situation with her own views as a claim to fame. She ran a Planned Parenthood (in her own words). ONE chapter, which means it’s a FRACTION of the actual unit. She does not have a PHD. Her accusations against physicians are bullshit and is frankly an insult to actual doctors who perform safe medical procedures every day.

Politicians have no knowledge of medical protocols and treatments (and in a lot of cases know an embarrassingly low amount about women’s reproductive organs). And in many cases it is old white men (and religious white women) dictating what a woman can do with her body. If you think that’s okay, you’re part of the problem.

Religious zealots hold fast to beliefs written in a fairytale rather than learn the scientific facts associated with the base of their argument. They can’t grasp the concept that an organism can be created in a petrie dish with a “beating heart”, because of muscle contractions, not because it’s “alive” or “sentient”. They would rather blindly follow a God that may or may not exist rather than listen to educated physicians who know the topic.

Rapid fire question: if an unconscious woman and a frozen embryo were in a burning building and you could only save one of them, which one would you choose? Something that is not aware and is only a potential for life? Or the actual living breathing human?

This shit is not about “saving babies”. Politicians couldn’t give a shit about babies after they are born. It’s about controlling women/trans-folk and telling people what they can do with their body (it’s funny how Republican politicans haven’t outlawed smoking or drinking, because hey…that kills you! “AnD wE aRE PRo-LiFE!”).

Anyone who can’t see that all these abortion laws are just plays for politicians to pursue their own political pursuits is an idiot.

A Note about Georgia’s Abortion Law/Kemp

In my state, there was talks that Kemp was overheard saying that even if he wanted to veto the bill he couldn’t due to “his campaign promises”. Which is absolute bullshit, because given the polls…he knew that a majority of the people in his state are against it. This bill was co-sponsored by three men and three women who are basing it heavily upon religious purposes (if you don’t believe me, look up Ed Setzler, he’s been quoted several times leaning on religious propaganda for this bill). It was then voted through by a bunch of old white men.

Convenient how they threw the one token woman up front (but honestly, fuck her…because she should know better). The fact of the matter is that those who voted on this are a bunch of “good ole boys” with religious principles trying to bypass the fact that there is a separation of church and state. This bill has had numerous polls conducted to the constituents, and while they were divided…the PRO-CHOICE voice won every single poll. Put this up for a vote and I guarantee this would not become a law.

Kemp waited weeks to sign this (unlike the governor of Alabama).

Why?

Because he knew that most of his constituents were against this (given the polls that were conducted), but due to political pressure he couldn’t veto for fear that he’d lose the religious/deeply rooted republican votes. Even Kemp seemed to realize that this is against the moral rights of his citizens. But he doesn’t give a shit. Because as long as his pockets are lined with money and he can ignore his constituents, it’s all gravy for him.

To take this a step further, this asshole is the man who pointed a gun at a kid jokingly in an age where school shootings are rampant, as a joke…for political purposes. Cuz, ya know…violence is funny.

He’s “pro-life” but he shoots things.

This man is sponsored by the National Hunting and Fishing association, who supports killing living breathing things with a heartbeat for sport or “because it tastes good”.

I challenge anyone who is so “pro-heartbeat” to never shoot their guns again to kill something. Because hey, life is so precious to you, right? You value heartbeats so effing much, stop killing living breathing things. Nut up or shut up.

Actually, no, don’t nut up. That’s the reason for unplanned pregnancies in the first place. Just shut up.

…that will never happen. And you want to know why?

Because this is not about life. They don’t give a shit about “life”. This is about power. This is about control.

If you can’t see that an entire gender is being used for political gain then you need to wake the fuck up.

I’ll end this by saying that, yes, there might be some common ground that can be found here. In the people out there fighting every day for their rights. In the allies we have coming out of the woodworks. In the physicians who fought like hell for us in court.

I’m not an unreasonable person. I do believe in sensible laws. These bans are not sensible. They’re a power play. And that’s fucked up. And as much as I’d love to pack up and leave, I don’t have that option. A lot of people don’t (and in fact, I think the “Boycott GA” movement is so fucking stupid, because that doesn’t hurt the people in power. It hurts the PEOPLE).

So if you’re pissed off, remember this at the polls. Know who your reps are. And if they are for this bullshit, vote their asses out.

Flip their fucking seats.

I’m tired, you guys. Let’s get our rights back. Let’s take our state back.

#Abortion #Pro Choice #Heartbeat Bill #HB481 #Brian Kemp #Georgia #Stop the Bans

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workingwomanwrites · 5 years

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5 Things I Learned from my Dad’s Death

I had a few ideas about what my first blog post would be. I never thought it would be this, but none of the other ideas matter to me anymore. I have these drafts written for first posts; one about my divorce last year, about religion and faith, controversial posts about politics and female empowerment. None of those matter to me right now. I don’t know if they ever will again. I can’t promise you that in this essay I’ll make you laugh or that I'll even be relatively clever, but I’ll be real. I pulled myself together enough to put these words onto virtual paper for not only you all, but for me as well. Writing has been the only way that I have ever been able to work through things in my life, which coincidentally, I got from my dad. I hope that this essay is a way to work through his death as well. Here are the 5 things I have learned from my dad’s passing this week. *Disclaimer* I curse.

1. “No person is the sum of their last days; they are the sum of their life lived.” -David Maltsberger

I didn’t reach out to Dr. Maltsberger after he sent me this message this week, but it hit home for my family and I. My mom and I cried deeply when we read that comment together. The story of how my dad died is one of unexpected despair and trauma. I hope that when I go, I go peacefully without a crowd. My dad did not. This will be hard to share, but I hope that selfishly, it lifts some of the grief and trauma that I bring into every day that I’ve lived since. I can’t stop seeing how it happened: I received a phone call from my mom, barely able to breathe she screamed, “Your dad’s heart stopped, they’re trying to bring him back, Victoria I don’t know”, and the line was disconnected. I ran out of the house, calling each of my sisters on the way to the hospital, sobbing on the way there because something didn’t feel right. I believe inside, I knew that was “the” phone call. I ran up to the hospital doors and didn’t go up right away. I was scared to go alone. None of my sisters were answering anymore, they were in their own panic on the way to the hospital. I called my friend Joe before heading up to the elevator. I told him I didn’t want to go, and I cried. He genuinely seemed to feel my pain and encouraged me to go be with my family. I rode the elevator up to the 2nd floor. When the doors opened, a family of random visitors looked at me with sorrow. They must have known, now that I think about it. I wondered, “Why are they looking at me like that?”. When I turned the corner, I realized why. My dad’s room had 6 or 7 staff outside of it, covering their mouths in horror. That’s when I heard my mom yelling my dad’s name over and over. I began to run to my dad’s room, and heard my sister Andrea yelling at my dad to wake up. When I entered the room, the shock fell over me. The crying was instantaneous. My dad had 20 to 30 doctors and nurses surrounding him, most of them in a panic, attempting to resuscitate. My mom and sister stood above him, begging for him to come back. I frantically pushed through the crowd and saw my dad, or I don’t know if it was him. It didn’t look like him. They pounded on his chest. There was no more life in his eyes. I don’t fully know what I said or did after that. I panicked and yelled and begged my dad to come back too, but he wouldn’t. I eventually slid down the wall, sat on the hospital floor, and cried and begged to God. I said to God, “not my dad, please don’t take my dad”, over and over until I couldn’t hear or say anything else. I ran through everything in my head- how could this happen? He was good, I just saw him today, how? Why? Every day since, I wake up crying because I see him like that; on the hospital bed, lifeless, getting his chest pounded, with so many strangers in the room, some of them laughing among themselves. It is an actual living nightmare. He never wanted to go like that. I keep thinking I’ll wake up at some point. When I read what Dr. Maltsberger wrote me about my dad’s life not being summed up by those last moments, for the first time since my dad’s death, I felt relief. I needed to be reminded of that. I need to remember that he was the dad who cooked for us, who joked with us, who loved us. He built this whole life in the 49 years before his last day. I can not base my memories of him on the last day. It just isn’t logical (but honestly, grief isn’t logical), and it isn’t healthy. I’ll drive myself crazy if I think about that last day forever. I pray and hope that when I die, I go peacefully.

2. Treat everyone kindly, because you never know what they’re going through or what they will go through.

What most people don’t know is that earlier in the day, I was at the hospital visiting my dad. I stayed for several hours and the nurses assigned to him were treating he and my mom horribly. My dad couldn’t hear, so when the nurse would come in she would roll her eyes and annoyingly raise her voice at him every time she had to repeat an instruction. At one point she asked my dad to lift his arm and he didn’t. She yelled, “You can’t pick up your arm or what?”. Y’all, I went in. I said, “First of all, my dad just had open heart surgery. Second of all, he can’t hear, and you know that. Third of all, you have an awful attitude and you need to treat my dad right or find someone who will”. My mom stayed silent. The nurse rolled her eyes and walked out. After a few more unfriendly run ins with her, she called security on me and had me escorted out of the hospital. She told the security guard that I was raising my voice at her. They actually wanted the whole family escorted out, at which point I DID raise my voice and said, “Absolutely not! I’ll leave, but I don’t trust you. Someone needs to be with him because I don’t know what you’re going to do to him!”. They allowed my mom and youngest sister Julia to stay after that, but I had to go. I can promise that I had not raised my voice at her until that point, despite her awful attitude. What it was is that this woman has a god-complex and is used to being able to treat patients however she feels like, without any repercussions. What she didn’t realize, is that her god-complex took my last hours with my dad away from me. Maybe I’m blinded by grief, but even if I try to look at the situation objectively, I can’t wrap my head around it. If she was having a bad day, she can’t let that affect her treatment of patients. It’s her job. I would never treat my clients that way, even now that my dad has died this week, I couldn’t bring myself to treat another human that way, much less one that just had surgery and is under your care. The way I see it, I had two choices: 1. Let her treat my dad like shit during what none of us knew was going to be the last day of his life, or 2. speak up, defend my parents, and hope that she stopped. I chose the latter and now, sitting here, I would still choose the latter. Let me be clear. I will always defend my family or friends when I feel like they are being treated poorly. It is something that possibly this baby is giving me; I’m opening up to this protective, nurturing side of me that I never knew I had, to be frank. I am grateful for it though. Now, every time I think about that last day, I think about how much rage I have towards that nurse. Monica. She was horrible and I just hope one day she is put in her place. I wish I could be the “bigger person” and give up the grudge, but I haven’t. I guess it is all part of the grief process, but who knows.

3. Unfortunately, finances are still everything.

This is a tough one, but it is reality. My sisters and I have had to truly pull together these past couple of days and make a miracle happen, and we still aren’t positive that it’s going to happen. It is expensive to die y’all. Before I walked into the funeral home on Monday, I vomited on a tree outside in Boerne, Texas. I was nauseous the whole morning because not only were we going to the funeral home to choose caskets, flowers, and services for my dead father, but because I knew it was going to cost way too much for us to be able to afford. My dad didn’t care much for finances. He didn’t focus on material needs or the importance of them and to a certain degree, I admire him for that. However, because he didn’t have an income or life insurance policy, not only have we had to deal with the emotional cost of his death but also the monetary cost, and it costs a lot. All together it is about $9,000, give or take. Given, this is if we don’t have food or any refreshments for anyone after the burial service, which we don’t plan to because of the money. So far we have reached about $5,000 in covering costs, but still have several thousand dollars in funeral costs to cover. It is just the way the world works I guess, capitalism and all that. I know one thing for damn sure: I won’t go another month without a life insurance policy. In the case that I might pass, I need my babies and my boyfriend and my family to be covered. It is hard enough grieving over someone, to add financial stress to that makes all this that much more unbearable. In addition, I will contribute to any fundraiser, GoFundMe, anything that I come across from here on out. Before my dad’s death, I remember feeling reservation about it. I actually thought, “Since I don’t know them that well, or at all, they’ll think I’m weird if I give money”. Victoria, really? We don’t care. All we care about is being able to pay for a proper burial for my dad. The other option is simply just not having one. That isn’t much of an option, is it? I vow to give freely from here on out. I will say that one of the most moving things is seeing the amount of people who have contributed. My mom, my sisters, and I cry a lot these days, but sometimes they are tears of relief from one more person giving monetary support. It makes all the emotional difference in the world to see that we’re that much closer to reaching our goal. Payment plans are not an option in the funeral business, at least that is what we’re told, and none of us have credit good enough to pull out a loan, otherwise we wouldn’t bother our friends and family with contributing. Here’s my take on it: no one owes our family anything, but when someone gives, it means everything.

4. Family is the most important thing. I don’t care what society tells us.

Here is an unpopular one. There is this meme going around social media right now that says something along the lines of, “No, you don’t have to try to be close to your family if they don’t try to be close to you”. I call bullshit. I can’t believe I am saying it too, because I have always advocated for “you choose your family”, etc. etc. The reason being that I was taught this by the church at a young age. I remember crying out loud and uncontrollably the night I got “saved” at church camp, and I told my youth pastor, “I don’t want my parents to go to hell”. I was assured that although this might be the truth, it’s okay because I was a part of God’s family now. When I struggled with my family relationships later in life, my pastor at the time told me that I was now “one with my husband”. He was my family now. If I offend anyone then I apologize, but this way of thinking is toxic. Now that my dad has died, the ONLY people I want to see or be around are my mom and my sisters. No amount of preaching or politics or friendships will ever cause a divide between my family and I again. Blood IS thicker than water. Sorry not sorry. I have mentioned before that my dad and I had a complicated relationship, this was in part because we both always thought we were right. In confidence, I can now say that I was wrong. I wish I wouldn’t have been so stubborn so that I could have enjoyed more time with my wonderful dad. Nothing will ever be more important to me than my family, because in the end, that truly is all we have. A couple of months ago, my dad and I reached a place of peace and happiness. I told him and my mom that I finally began to understand after my divorce last year, why they did everything they did. I was able to enjoy the last year of my dad’s life with him even more so than before, and make good, solemn memories together. I imagine though, that had I just let family be family, I would have had even more happy memories.

5. Everyone grieves differently.

Finally, the grief. The thing that makes your whole world stop and makes you feel like you’re watching your life as a movie, rather than actually taking part in it. My family and I have experienced some similarities, but none of it is pretty. None of it is Hollywood. None of it is good. It is all sadness felt deeply by each of us, filling the hole in our hearts where my dad used to be when he was alive. We hear his laugh in our heads, my sisters and I hear him call each of us by the nicknames he had for us, we see him smile and say something sarcastic, all of it to never actually be seen again. We fall to the floor in pain. We scream and cry. We lay in bed for hours. We clean for hours. We yell at people. I’m guilty of this mostly. I have grief rage. Moments after they stopped resuscitating, one nurse starting saying that my dad, “should’ve gotten the catheter like I told him too”. I looked up and thought I might actually go to prison for murder. A doctor looked at him sharply and said, “That is not the reason he died. He just had 5 stints put in his heart and he went into cardiac arrest”. The nurse looked down in embarrassment, but it wasn’t enough. I got up and looked him straight in the face. I yelled, “you need to leave now”. He replied, “I’m going”. I yelled even louder, “GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY DAD’S ROOM BEFORE YOU BLAME MORE FAMILY MEMBERS FOR HIS DEATH AND TRY BEING A HUMAN BEING”. The room got silent and the nurse left. I didn’t know how else to grieve at the time. It’s why I still think about the nurse Monica who was mean to my dad and took my last hours with him away. It’s why my mom called the hospital two days later screaming at the top of her lungs for answers. It’s just grief. Our human brains can’t fully process the loss of someone so important to our lives. We return to our child-like selves for comfort; crying, screaming, even hitting (not actual people, usually walls or steering wheels, although I wouldn’t put it past a person to hit a few people if they are grieving after feeling what I’ve felt over the past few days). It has been different for all of us. Sometimes we need to be away, in our own homes, focusing on our kids. Sometimes we need to be close to my parent’s home, crying and going over pictures and memories with each other. Sometimes we need to be in public, trying to hold it together around people who have no idea what is going on. We need to express our anger and our sadness and our despair. We just need to feel the grief.

The thing is, my dad didn’t want to die. I have heard older people and even younger people say they aren’t scared to die. This is something that has plagued me for as long as I can remember. I particularly struggled with this when I began college. I would think all day and night until I made myself sick, “Why are all of these people okay to die?”. My sisters and I weren’t raised that way. I don’t 100% know why, but my dad, my mom, my sisters and I have always been openly afraid to die. I believe that it stems from a very pure joy that we get from being together, alive. We have felt true happiness. We are and have always been okay with the simplicity of life. We could have nothing but a pot of beans and tortillas and we would join each other around the table, and laugh and joke and love each other over that meal, and it would be the best day of our lives. I wish I was kidding. We are very simple people. It’s possible that because we have felt pure joy when alive, we have all been afraid to death of death. Because my dad always hated the idea of death, the only thing right now that gives any of us any peace is thinking that he is still here. I imagine Dad’s spirit roaming around the house, his slippers sliding against the floor as he heads to the kitchen to get a beer from the fridge. He’ll shuffle back to the couch in time to watch the western movie he got into a few minutes back. He’s telling my mom that he’s okay and everything’s fine. He’s smiling and hugging our kids as they jump on the couch to be with him. It’s beautiful and it’s all I have left.

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seadeepywrites · 3 years

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Kid, You Gotta Stand Up

Character: Haven Vassellon Words: 3229 tw: academic stress & failure

Haven is eighteen and her life is over.

She sits here for a while, in this small side room of the Runiversity, her throat aching and a heaviness in her abdomen that feels a bit like a draft horse has kicked her, repeatedly. As Haven buries her head in her hands, letting her blonde hair curtain down to hide her face from view, she wishes for the five hundredth time she wasn't the kind of person who cries this easily.

She weeps, but it's practically perfunctory. There are few tears that escape, like she’s a sponge wrung out of all moisture, for the simple reason that she has cried enough this week to fill a bucket with saltwater several times over. By now she knows the pattern she'll follow. The crying, accompanied by the sinking-spiraling sensation that she's worth nothing. Will never succeed at anything, anywhere. Then come the hot flash-bang surges of rage — frustration at herself, and fury at the university for putting her in this position.

Lastly, a nauseous kind of acceptance. There's peace to be found on the other side, when her stomach muscles are sore from her heaving sobs and the tears and snot on her face have dried into a slick film. Haven isn't sure if she’d call this phase coming back up for air or crashing down to earth, but that’s where she is in the cycle when the door to the room opens and Wyler sticks his head in.

"Hey, Haven," he says, brown eyes warm and tone extraordinarily gentle. "How are you doing?"

Haven gives him a double thumbs-up without smiling. "Oh, you know.... terrible."

"Yeah," he says quietly. "I thought so."

Tugging the door shut behind him, Wyler walks over to a desk that sits several arm-lengths away from where Haven is puddled in the near-center of the room. He slouches sideways in the chair, kicking out his lanky legs in two entirely separate directions, and regards her with contemplative sympathy.

"I take it you just had your meeting with Professor Rothquenter?" Wyler asks.

Haven nods.

"And how did it go?" Wyler says, before casting his gaze over Haven's disheveled appearance and amending his question. "I can kind of tell the answer is 'not well.'"

Haven shrugs, a weary and helpless motion. "She said they can't do anything for me. My work hasn't been up to their standards, so it's..." She takes a deep breath. "It's as simple as that."

Wyler makes a noise of outrage. "What? It's not simple at all. There was that whole thing with your sister halfway through the semester, and you— you tried so hard."

"It turns out," Haven says with a bitter twist to her mouth, "that how hard I try is not actually a metric the Runiversity cares about very much."

"They're supposed to be an institute of learning," Wyler says, a little desperately. "They don't recognize how much you want to be here? That doesn't count for anything? Are you serious?"

In a small voice, Haven says, "I don't know that I do want to be here, anymore."

"I guess not," Wyler snorts. "I wouldn't either, if I were you."

Haven scrubs at her face, running her fingers up into her hair and rubbing at the base of her antlers. Her hair floats away from her head in blond wisps — she's guessing it has already tangled itself in the ten minutes since she took it out of its bun, though she hasn't even moved from this chair.

A wad of blue fabric lands on the desk in front of her with a gentle flumph noise. Haven looks at it.

"Uh, what is this?"

"It's my handkerchief," Wyler says with a frown. "For, you know." He waves a hand in her direction. "Your face."

"Wow." Haven smiles despite herself. "Thanks a lot."

Wyler seems to register his own comment. "Okay, you know I didn't mean that. I mean, I meant. Um."

Picking up the handkerchief, Haven clutches it in one crumpled fist. A fresh wave of tears crests and breaks, spilling down her face.

"I'm sorry!" Wyler says, truly alarmed now.

"N-no," Haven chokes out, blowing her nose and shutting her eyes as her shoulders shake. "It's... thank you. For being." She makes a strange wet gurgling noise that surprises even herself. "Here for me."

"Oh." A scraping noise as Wyler scoots his chair closer. One warm hand grips her shoulder. "Of course. I'm.... this is really terrible. How they've treated you."

Haven cries some more. Wyler sits with her, and for someone who's normally quite the chatterbox, he doesn't say much.

***

Haven has forgotten what it was like to be stared at wherever she went. In the halls of the Runiversity, a bright pink tiefling with a large rack of antlers and a cascade of blond hair could sit in a classroom alongside silver-scaled dragonborn, tiny-but-spunky kobolds, and even a handful of shy firbolg. The Runiversity's position as the foremost institute of higher learning means that it attracts people from across the continent of Povrunei — sometimes even further — and Haven had relished the chance to be only one oddity in a group of many. Just another funny-looking student learning to read, write, and fling spells.

It stings a little, then, when she stops at an inn along the coast and the women in the corner of the taproom burst into poorly stifled giggling at the sight of her. Haven ignores them, though she can't prevent her tail from lashing slowly along the floorboards behind her, and goes straight to the bar.

"Hi there," she says to the innkeeper, a somber-looking dwarven fellow who hardly reacts to her presence at all, thank the gods. "Can I get a room for the night?"

"Absolutely," he says in a surprisingly high-pitched voice, reaching under the counter. "One single bed? Dinner and breakfast are included."

"That'd be great." Haven smiles. "And can I get a glass of wine, please? Something with fruit or berries, if you have it."

The innkeeper grunts. "Grape's a fruit."

Haven blinks.

Before she can reply, he flashes her a smile. It is wide and toothy, but it is gone again so fast she's left flat-footed, wondering if she imagined it.

"I'll bring you some of the Minaret blend," he says. He waves a hand. "Pick any table."

Haven does, dropping her pack to the floor next to her chair. It crashes down with a thud loud enough to draw every eye in the place, and she winces. Her shoulders and back are one solid stone block of pain and tension right now, forcing her to shuffle along like an aging hermit, but she’d found herself physically unable to walk away from the Runiversity without stuffing a truly ridiculous number of books into her traveling pack. These are just her favorites, too, the ones she couldn't go any length of time without. When she figures out where she's going to be staying in the future, she'll write a letter to Wyler and he'll send along the other six cases of tomes, notes and journals.

Haven digs her fingers into her stiff shoulder muscles, tilting her head from side to side. Her wand nearly slips free of its place in her bun, so she spends a few minutes re-securing her hair more neatly atop her head.

She is just sticking her wand back through the whole mess, tongue nipped between her pointy teeth in concentration, when a human slides into the seat across from her. Their short hair is dark against their lightly tanned skin, and their gray eyes are glacier-pale. Coupled with their unblinking stare, the effect is unnerving, but since Haven doesn't have any pupils or irises to begin with, she supposes she isn't one to talk.

"Uh," she says. "Hi?"

"Hello," the human says, a smile fluttering like moth's wings around the corners of their mouth. "You are from the Runiversity, yes?"

Haven has spoken to people from several continents of Thiuhm, but she has never heard the lilting accent that lifts this stranger's speech into melody.

"I am," Haven says. "Or, well... I was. I'm actually," she glances down at her pack, "on my way away from it, these days."

"I see." The human sits there for a few seconds, digesting this information. "Would it be all right if I asked you a few questions? I am perhaps an aspiring student myself."

Haven can't help the face she makes, brow furrowing and lip curling in reflexive dismay.

"I apologize," the stranger says hastily. They move as if to get up and leave, halting poised on the edge of their chair. "I did not mean to offend."

"Gods," Haven says with a little laugh, waving them back down. "That's not it. You're fine. Please, stay."

The human settles into the chair again.

Grimacing, Haven continues, "I just don't know how much help I'm going to be. I'm, uh, not feeling too kindly towards the place at the moment."

The human arches one sleek, crisply defined eyebrow.

"It's complicated," Haven says. She fidgets with the fabric of her sleeve, twisting the gauzy fabric between her fingers in a way that is sure to leave permanent creases. "I wanted to go there so badly. I really did."

"But you do not anymore?"

"I don't know." Sighing, Haven repeats, "It's complicated."

"We have time," the stranger says magnanimously. The expression they flash at the innkeeper is small and subtle enough that Haven decides they must know each other — that the human is a regular here.

Haven says, "I don't think I caught your name."

"Ah, I suppose you did not." The human considers this, apparently weighing the possible benefits and drawbacks to handing over such personal information. "You may call me Ten."

"Ten? Like the number?"

"Indeed."

Haven gives a mental shrug, curious but hardly perturbed. She is a tiefling, after all, and strange chosen names are part of their lot as well.

"Okay then — Ten. What did you want to know about the Runiversity? I'll do my best."

"I could hardly ask for more." Ten smiles slightly, inching forward in their chair. "The students, those that are accepted to study there... are they all afforded the same privileges?"

Haven frowns. "What do you mean?"

Waving a hand, Ten says, "Take a random example. Say... the teleportation network. Would any student have access to such a place?"

"Ah," Haven says. She suspects the example was not random in the slightest, from what little she can glean off of Ten's mysterious, polished mannerisms. "Well, uh.... not really. I mean, you could always pay to use it, but in terms of just letting students hop across continents..." She thinks about it for a second. "I'd say you'd have to be at least a fourth-year." And then, more confidently: "They'd definitely require you to have taken Conjuration II, cause that's got a unit on travel and transportation spells. Or to have an equivalent recommendation from a Conjuration professor along with high marks in a lower-level class."

"I see." Ten is silent for a moment. "And what year did you say that you were?"

"I didn't say," Haven replies with a grimace. She shifts in her chair, tugging again at her sleeve. It's not shame that prickles warm across her skin, exactly, but she's not too comfortable baring the sordid details of her stay at the Runiversity. Not right now, with the wound so fresh.

"I was going to take my second-year exams next month," she says after a moment.

Haven doesn't mention that it took her three years to complete the work most students would have in one, or the stilted and humiliating conversations with everybody from her professors to the Archmage of Abjuration to her fellow students. She doesn't share the particulars of the Runiversity's assessment system and why she's so nauseatingly familiar with it. She doesn't admit to the ravenous insecurity that has rotted inside her the last few weeks — the fear that for all her thirst for knowledge, there is something deeply, deeply wrong with her brain. Something wrong with her.

"And where are you headed for now, if you don't mind my asking?" Ten says, perfectly politely. They skate elegantly past the real question that Haven is sure lurks on their tongue, dark and squat and ugly.

Haven says, "I don't know for sure yet. I'm heading east for now, but I'm thinking of maybe sailing to another continent, even. I've never been a ship properly before. Only those little boats, with oars."

Her hands flutter as she talks, tracing a path through the imaginary Povrunei in the air between them. Her fingers hesitate on the coastline, but then she flicks them outward, into the swell of a transparent ocean. Haven knows her geography, but she is starting to realize there is a significant difference between knowing something intellectually and truly understanding it in your bones.

Haven decides, as she speaks to Ten, to pretend. For the length of this conversation and the questions they ask her, she can be like any other student. She chose to leave the Runiversity for entirely independent reasons. Of her own volition and free will, because she truly concluded there was a better life for her in the wide world beyond.

It's tempting, that lie. It's an explanation she pieced together bit by bit over many tearful hours spent with Wyler, bolstered by his attempts to spin golden optimism out of the spiky straw of her despair. He believes it, and she's repeated the words so many times she almost believes it too. It's the story she's told anyone that asks, and one she's tried very hard to convince herself of.

The problem is that Haven's read enough fiction to know a convenient narrative when she comes across one. She's notoriously bad at discerning when other people are lying, but she recognizes the squirm of self-delusion in herself as she speaks. The way she's twisting the truth. The way she's making excuses for herself, and pretending this wasn't partially her fault. Maybe even mostly her fault.

"Haven?"

Haven blinks. Refocuses on the human sitting across the table from her. "Oh, sorry. I got a bit lost in my thoughts there."

"It's all right. I'd expect nothing less from an academic such as yourself."

As Ten smiles magnanimously, it occurs to Haven that she doesn't think she introduced herself to them. To anyone in this tavern, actually. So how the hell does Ten know her name?

"If I'm being honest," she says with a flash of guilt, "I'm not sure it's in the cards for me to be an academic much longer."

Ten's glance flicks down to the pack at her feet and its lumpy, oblong shape. "You are clearly enthusiastic about learning."

"Learning, yes." Haven's mouth twists. "Academia, maybe not so much."

Ten tilts their head in a silent question.

"I want to learn things," Haven says in a rush. "I want to read and take pages of notes and know everything about everything." She swallows against the sadness that's been sizzling in her throat for weeks now. "But school is... it might not be the right fit for me. For the way that I learn."

"There's no shame in that," Ten says, serene, displaying again an uncanny ability to guess at Haven's emotions. "We are all of us different people."

"But I'm a wizard," Haven says, distressed. "Wizards learn their spells through studying. And classes. And homework."

"Do they? All of them?"

"All the ones I've ever met."

Ten laughs. The sound is musical, and there's an echo to it that abruptly forces Haven to re-consider the assumption she'd made that Ten is, in fact, a human.

"You have, however," they point out, "spent much time at the Runiversity. Perhaps it is a limited selection of the population that you have drawn your conclusions from."

Haven thinks about this. It reminds her of the introductory math class she took her first year, which quite literally had her tearing her hair out in frustration. Professor Brighthammer had spent several classes emphasizing the importance of surveying a representative sample, and the errors that might result from a failure to do so.

She nods, and says, hesitantly, "That's... possible, I guess."

"You simply have to make your way in the wider world and meet more wizards," Ten says. Haven can't tell if they're being facetious or not.

She makes a face. "Maybe. It's not the main goal, but it could happen along the way."

"And what is your goal, then?"

Haven hesitates. It's not that she doesn't know — it's the careful fitting of words to her purpose, trying to articulate it in a way this stranger will understand.

"I want to learn," she says slowly. "But I also want to, um, make my mark. Find whatever it is I'm good at and do that. I thought I was gonna be able to do it at the Runiversity, but... I guess not."

Ten's fingers drum an irregular rhythm on the table. They sip from the mug the innkeeper deposited on the table in front of them. Haven blinks, remembering her wine, which she has completely forgotten to drink.

"I hope you find what you're looking for," Ten says eventually. "I have every faith that you will."

"Thanks. Um, you too."

This time, their smile reminds Haven of the point of a needle — minute and deceptively sharp. "I am confident that I will as well. Do not worry about me."

"Uh," Haven says. "I won't, then."

Ten sits with her a little longer, slowly draining the rest of their mug. They ask a few more questions about the Runiversity, in the delicate sort of way that dances around Haven's current conflicted feelings towards the place.

Haven is happy to answer, but she can't deny the way her shoulders relax when Ten finally stands, stretches like a cat, and says, "I shall retire for the evening, I think."

"Okay," Haven says, trying not to sound too relieved. "Good night, Ten."

"And to you."

Ten inexplicably offers her a bow, performed with just enough flourish to look out of place in this rough backwater tavern. Haven gives a short little laugh, bemused.

And then Ten disappears into the night. The door latching behind them seems very loud, despite the murmuring chatter from the other tables that are still occupied. Haven takes a larger swallow of her wine, enjoying its rich and velvety sweetness. She didn't ask what was in it, but she suspects a hint of cherry. It's nice.

She doesn't stay up much later after that, only long enough to finish the glass of wine and thank the innkeeper. Climbing slowly up the stairs, she yanks her bun out and replaces it with a loose braid.

The bed is lumpy and narrow, but Haven collapses into it without changing out of her day-clothes. She places her wand on the low table next to the bed, rearranges the pillow to accommodate her antlers, and is asleep within minutes.

She dreams of a jungle, thick and verdant. Insects hum in its interior, and buried somewhere amid its tangle of vines, a yellow-white light flickers and vanishes. She dreams of snakes, and pirates. She dreams of adventure.

In the morning, Haven heads for the coast.

#Haven backstory #Haven #title is obviously from 'Stand Up' by the Cab #this was a lot of me projecting but not necessarily in the way you'd think #poor Haven with her undiagnosed ADHD in a world that doesn't even know what psychology is

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katzirra · 7 years

Text

Sighs long into the void.

Wrote a big post about stress and just... I don’t want to insinuate it’s causing me stress.

I need my moods to stabilize, and they can’t stabilize for longer than half a day without something throwing me wildly off. I’m unable to draw because I can’t sit at my desk very long lately without feeling stressed out guilty.

One list is more important to me personally, one is more important business speaking. I hate this. I hate my head.

I have two weeks to find time to do everything I need to do. I’m drowning and I’m not even in a bad spot. I need to clean my room because the dust is getting to me, and I need to clean my closet because it’s a MESS.

I keep writing stuff to my private blog and drafting it. I got asked for that the other day, and I just dodged it because I have so many mixed feelings about that after what happened with K all the time.

While it’s easier for me to talk to a post about an issue, than the person? I hate when tone is misread, and it makes shit more messy and I’m left twice as tired. I don’t care if people know, but I can’t handle that. I also can’t handle people not talking to me when they have a problem with what they read, bottling it, and blasting it at me later and hurting me.

The reason I had initially made one years ago was because I needed a middle ground to talk - because K made it so hard to talk to them about things and feelings. It’s easier to write a post and then discuss it. That way I’m not info dumping, expecting a response RIGHT THAT SECOND, and not having someone react poorly and shittily to me already in a shit mood? They could mull over what I said as much as I initially did. You know? Digestion time is different from IM/text vs post...

I have to write to a post because I have TOO MANY UNRELATED AND RELATED THOUGHTS FLOOD IN, and I can’t type them all out or sift through them, and make them small enough to IM and shit so I end up with a wall of unimportant overwhelming text and I’m left screaming as my point is lost in the crossfire of events of my life and how they brought me to a point I was trying to make. Because so much of what I do is influenced by shit I repress and blah blah... fucking I’m a MESS and I KNOW IT :)) and I try to make myself manageable for other people and it just never... helps. Mm.

If I put it in a post though it’s manageable and not as... clusterfucked and I just... I don’t know. I never had a good time telling people my private blog :)) I got people using it against me more often than not, than it being a tool to help talk to me lmfao I draft 80% of things, and post 20% and delete 5%... lmao idfk. I have a reasonable fear and anxiety about being asked for it especially after the conversation and tone the other day. I don’t mind, I just... I have hang ups of my own about giving it when people use it against me and don’t TALK to me. That’s the POINT of the blog when other people read it. Is for people to talk to me about shit and not hold it against me, or bottle up something they felt. It’s to minimize the stress of me INFO DUMPING.

If you ask me what’s wrong, chances are I’m going to unleash hell if I try and dodge the question a few times?? Because I will be aware it’s a DUMP of information more than what you want to hear. Chances are I’m writing a post to collect myself with. Chances are I’m scared of getting one word replies and sad faces because that’s... what I get :)) I’m a LOT to handle when you start digging in my sandbox. Surface and what I give are... manageable. Digging is another thing all together.

I have reservations about sharing what I fear will be used against me, or what will make someone repress parts of themselves towards me. I’m as open as I feel safe being.

I am sorry lately I keep missing IMs from people because I’m seeing past my monitor too... I... sighs a lot. I’m exhausted??

#kat life #ignore me #im tired

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mrsteveecook · 5 years

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my coworker uses all-caps for everything, can I ask my office to stop swearing, and more

It’s five answers to five questions. Here we go…

1. My coworker uses all-caps for everything

My team recently hired a new employee to help pick up some of the slack when it comes to the admin tasks we deal with on a day-to-day basis. Our new employee (Sansa) is enthusiastic about the job, a quick learner, and well liked by everyone in our organization. Her work is also very consistent and accurate. However, she does have one habit that drives me and my counterpart absolutely mad — she prefers to TYPE IN ALL CAPS.

Now, this wouldn’t be a huge concern if it was just on internal communication (emails to staff, messages on Slack, etc.), but one of her tasks is to draft the letters and memos that go out to our clients and the public. All of the letters she drafts use templates where the writer can fill in the blank on the particulars, meaning random words will be capitalized in the middle of a paragraph. There is nothing about the details she’s entering that warrants the use of all caps (or even bold, underline, or italics). Ultimately, this means either my counterpart or I have to re-do all the work she’s just completed (defeating the point of bringing her on the team) or the letter is sent to the client looking sloppy or poorly generated by a computer.

My counterpart and I discussed this with Sansa early on. We gently questioned if Sansa prefers to write this way because it’s easier to read, hoping we could find a way to adjust her computer screen to increase the font size. She told us that it’s just her preference. I’ve even made a joke (it was appropriate in context of the conversation) about how Sansa “yells” at me through email; to which she giggled, said that’s just how she types, and that I know she’s not trying to be “shouty.” The way I see it, it is an understood rule for anyone using electronic communication THAT ALL CAPS MEANS YOU MUST BE UPSET OR YELLING OR TRYING TO DRAW ATTENTION TO THE MESSAGE.

I hope that we’re not making a bigger deal out of this situation than need be – maybe we need to hear from an outside perspective that this isn’t a big deal and we should move on. But if you think our concerns have some merit, can you offer any advice on how we can address this with Sansa? I know from reading your articles that the next step is to very directly discuss this matter with her. However, I’d hate to go into the conversation where my only defense for asking her to change is “because it’s not how you should do it” or “it looks more professional to type normally.” To me it seems like we’re trying to push our stylistic preferences on her even though our way is the conventional format. Any advice or feedback would be greatly appreciated!

This isn’t stylistic preference. If she were just doing this in internal emails, then maybe — although even then, it would be reasonable to ask her to stop because it’s harder to read. But doing this in materials that go to clients and the public? No. That’s not okay, and it’s not just a stylistic preference. It’s the same as if she’d decided to send all your materials out in white font in pink paper — you would presumably simply tell her to stop. And you need to do that here too — without the hints and the jokes — just a clear, direct “we need you to do X instead of Y.”

I suspect you feel like you can’t say that so bluntly because you’re not her manager, but actually you can! She was hired to take work off your plates, and you’re having to redo it for her. You 100% have the standing to say to her, “We do need you to stop using all caps so that our materials are consistent and professional and easier to read. Please start using standard case on everything you’re producing for clients and the public.” In fact, not only do you have the standing to say that, but I’d argue you have an obligation to say it — because right now you’re wasting your own time cleaning up her work (which your organization and your manager surely don’t want) or allowing materials to go out looking like they were created by a hostile loon (which they also surely don’t want).

Talk to her today, and enjoy the soothing feel of standard case on your eyes tomorrow.

2. Can I ask my whole office to stop swearing?

So, maybe I just need to adult a little, and this might seem really nit-picky, but I work in a very casual, small office environment that houses different departments (eight office workers and eight yard workers and drivers who are in and out all day), where the majority of people cuss like sailors. The big boss does also; we don’t see him often, but when we do, he’s a sailor as well.

I get there is foul language everywhere, but honestly, hearing the F-bomb a half dozen times before 6 am is difficult.

I have a very good job. Is this just something I need to accept or is changing it possible in your opinion? I have thought that being the one person to say something about it would most likely put me on the “outside” and I’m not sure if it is worth it.

Well … my guess is it’s something you’ll have to decide if you can live with or not. Your situation is different from, say, this letter from someone who had one coworker who was constantly dropping F-bombs. In your case, if it were just one or two people, you could tell them the language bothers you and ask if they could rein it in. But when it’s an entire office of 16 people … that’s the culture, and they’re allowed to have a culture that uses adult language if they want to. (To be clear, there are some things where you’d have standing to ask 16 people to change, like if they were creating a sexually hostile workplace or so forth. You’re not required to live with centerfolds taped on the walls just because other people like it. But profanity isn’t in that category.)

If you feel really strongly about it, you could try saying something to the most frequent offenders, or the ones you’re most comfortable with — and even if they’re the only ones who rein it in, that would at least lower the amount you’re hearing each day. But I don’t think you can single-handedly tell each individual person there that they need to stop, and this is going to be more about whether you can be happy in this culture or not.

3. Is it bad to step back from a management job to a less senior position?

I’m currently a manager of a team of 28. I’ve been with my current employer for nine years, and I’ve been a manager for the last three. I work in the financial services industry in a very high-stress, fast-paced, cutthroat, high-stakes environment. The job has taken its toll on my health over the years. I’m 31 years old and am currently on two medications to control my dangerously high blood pressure. I work 12-hour days and sometimes I even have to work on Saturday mornings to catch up on my reports and other behind-the-scenes tasks that I cannot complete during the standard work week.

I’m about to accept a job offer at another company where I think I would be a great fit. I really like the role that they’re offering me. The thing is, I would not be a manager. I would be starting from the bottom again as an individual contributor. Part of me feels embarrassed and like it’s a sign of failure, because I’m currently a manager and I would be moving down to an individual contributor role. However, I don’t really think being in a management role is doing my health or work-life balance any favors. I like the idea of coming in every day, sitting at my desk, focusing on my own work and being responsible for myself, not other people.

I went through multiple rounds of interviews with the new potential employer and they were very impressed with my work experience and skills. They do not seem to be fazed by the fact that I would be trading down to a lower level role. Part of me still feels weird about it because I’ve grown so much and made so much progress at my current employer, but I just simply cannot stay in this stressful role anymore. Is it common for people to step down from being managers and go back to being individual contributors?

It’s very common! Some people stop managing because they realize they don’t like it (lots of people don’t like it!) or aren’t great at it, some people stop managing because there’s just another role that appeals to them more, some people stop because management just doesn’t happen to be part of the next thing they do.

Management is a huge pain the ass — stressful and often thankless. It sucks that it’s often the only way to move up in your career. But if you’ve found a job that you’d like and that gets you away from a work environment that’s destroying your health, don’t have qualms about taking it. People move around and career trajectories aren’t always perfectly linear. And if you decide you want to move back into management in the future, you’ll be helped by having management experience in your past.

I also wouldn’t think of it as “starting from the bottom again,” unless you’re taking an entry-level role, which I doubt you are. Plenty of individual contributor roles are quite skilled, senior, and respected. I think the management vs. non-management distinction is messing with your head more than it should — and that you should take the job, lower your blood pressure, and revel in the fantastic joy of not being responsible for other people.

4. I have to pay for an assessment test in an interview

I am in the second step of an interview process. The first was to watch a few videos the company posted on YouTube, then submit a video with your opinion of the videos, detailing why you’re a good fit, what does the future look like with you employed there, etc. The second was to take the Kolbe assessment test, that the applicant has to pay for. All of this has been done via email, no phone.

I’ve been out of the interviewing process for a while now, but it just seems as though we should not have to pay to interview. Is this normal now? I’ve tried googling if this is common but nothing is coming up on the matter at all.

No, this is not normal. You should not need to pay for assessment tests. This is either a scam or a company that doesn’t know what it’s doing (I’m leaning toward the latter, given the inept-sounding first step of their process). I wouldn’t pursue this.

5. Vacations when I’m resigning and starting a new job

I’ve been in talks with a new company and it is likely I will be offered a position in early to mid April. I would like to give three weeks notice to my current employer, but I have one-week vacation booked April 20-27. This week would fall in my notice period. Is that okay?

Also, I have a trip booked for two weeks May 15-29, which would be in the first month at my new company. Is it bad etiquette to take this, and do I need to cancel (I would lose $600 and an amazing trip!) or do most employers understand and accommodate if they are told this in the interview stage? I want to set myself up for success and leave my old company in a good state, but also have had these trips planned for months and would like to take them.

I tend to do all my travelling in the spring and late fall, and it just happens to be bad timing this year.

Some companies won’t let you take vacation time during your notice period because the point of the notice period is to give you and them time to transition your work, and that can’t happen if you’re not there. But because you’re going to give three weeks, that should help — you can frame it as “since I already have a trip booked for part of this time, I’m going to give three weeks notice so I’m still here for two weeks before I leave.” That said, the timing of your resignation could matter. If the trip would be the third week of your notice period, they may tell you to just officially wrap up the week before, leaving that vacation week unpaid (if you’re in a state that doesn’t require employers to pay out accrued vacation time). So factor that in as well.

For your May trip, the time to bring this up with the new employer is once you have an offer but before you’ve accepted it. At that point, explain that you have a pre-planned trip that’s already been paid for and offer to take the time unpaid. Lots of employers will be fine with this; others may not, especially if, for example, it would mean you’d miss important training. But it’s a normal thing to ask about. (They also might just prefer to have you start after the trip is over, but that’s something they’ll suggest if so.)