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alyjojo · 5 months

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New Year Reading for 2024! 🌟 - Aries

Preshuffle: There are some debt or financial issues in your world that probably already exist, because I’m getting you’ve been putting it off or not really doing anything about it, and that’s going to change this year. Money issues cannot be ignored anymore, it’s showing up as The Devil before you finally take the lead and decide to do something about it. For some, this could involve a child, custody, child support, legal fees, or combined resources with an ex. A very specific story, you could have a “joint” something that’s an ex’s problem, but they’re not paying it and you’re the one getting checks garnished or bill collectors sending threats, just as an example. Hopefully not.

Meditation: I guess with tumultuous stories I’m just going to see the same crazy plummet Tower or whatever that I’ve been seeing the last couple of months. Yours is a psychotic water ride with some real dangers, all aiming for the head, you had to duck & dodge, had to pay attention. Aries rules the head - and my Aries moon son hits his head once a WEEK 🤦‍♀️ so take that as a literal warning and be careful please. Y’all should come with helmets. This thing went down for ages, sharp turns, even upside down which how is that possible with water and does that mean something - idk. Water is emotions in tarot, could just be crazy emotions. By the time you finally get to the bottom, it ejects you violently into a tiny pool, and you climb out, soaking wet, and there are these two guys in suits next to it literally (condescendingly) “rating” your performance. As if it were a performance! You got an 8.2, if that means something, and once you realized you were being rated for this hell you just went though, you were pissed, and flicked a nickel really hard at the first guy’s forehead with a “fuck you” 😡

🔸 Whole of Your Energy: 8 Cups, Ace of Pentacles rev, 5 Wands, 5 Pentacles

Regarding: 3 Swords

Child support is a clear struggle for those having to pay it (or your ex just not paying it, could be either), you could be battling it out with an ex over money for some portion of the year. I’m also getting a child having issues, doesn’t even have to be your own, could be a step-child, niece/nephew, sibling, someone needs money or help that includes money in some way, and it could fall to you to help them. Even if you can’t do much, you’re still doing something. This can be a child’s activity or extracurricular that you’re needing to go 50/50 with an ex on and it’s not possible, one of you could be going broke trying to do everything alone in a two+ person venture. Or some outside person (a child?) causes some chaos or destruction and you’re stuck with a bill you can’t afford. I heard “medicine” for someone, could be for you or someone else. I do get this being something outside of yourself - like you didn’t ask for this, and if you did, you didn’t think it would be this freakin’ hard, or expensive.

A separate story, for those who are trying to have some creative sort of business venture or opening up a shop of some kind, you could find yourself spending a lot more than you’re getting. I see direct competition around you, could be the area you’re in - if a physical place - or the market could just be saturated with the same thing you’re trying to do. In either story, there are some things you’re needing to abandon because it’s just not working out, and I get that you really don’t want to, but you can’t afford it, aren’t approved, don’t get a loan, some necessary (expensive) repair prevents it, material prices skyrocket, etc. Many different possibilities, details, and reasons, but overall you’re needing to focus on your money this year - and the career portion flat out says don’t sign up for anything or add anything more than you’ve already got 💯 Some of you are needing to scrap an idea altogether once you realize the details involved, it may be a case of wishful thinking - likely a plan made last year, since that’s what’s needing to be left behind.

🔸 Character Card: The Musician 🎷

A very positive card, this person has already been through the struggle and hardship of life, and they’re playing their songs out loud in order to share their message and inspire others around them, while waiting for the ship that takes them into a new cycle with new problems, lessons, blessings, etc., everyone gathers around to hear The Musician’s song. For some, it can speak to them deeply, and you may be helping to inspire someone else, or being inspired.

🔸 Relationship: Queen of Cups & The Devil

Regarding: King of Cups rev

This feels more like your person’s issue than yours, but it’s going to cause a rift between you for some time. They’re either someone that likes to please themselves in a certain way, I’m not seeing shopping or money issues, but they indulge in things that keep them stuck for long periods of time. Could be watching the same tv shows over and over again, keeping their mind rooted in a specific time period of their life. Or you have the Musician card, it could be music. ✨Media✨ Something like that, something that makes them extremely emotional, because they show up as an empath possibly or someone whose emotions are heavily affected by what they do - and what they do isn’t always positive. At least some part of it. They may also take “self care” to an extreme, to the point it’s actually just selfish. Or that could be you, either/or. There is a routine of some kind, or even a part of their personality that is extremely emotional, immature even, like they can’t contain themselves or “get a grip”. It will be the biggest issue between you this year.

However, it’s followed with Ace of Swords & Flash, both indicating an “aha!” moment that wakes them up to this issue. Or you. You could be communicating this to them in a way they suddenly get it, or you could be introducing them to new things in a way of being romantic. Like not just “saying” the thing flat out, but moving differently to encourage change in different directions. For example, my husband and I like Sinatra a lot, say that’s a source of irritation for you & them for some reason. It reminds them of their ex and they get irritated, so you start playing something more…new & romantic. Creating new memories to “get stuck” on more or less, positive ones. With loving action, dates, spending time together, probably you instigating this, you’ll both overcome whatever issue you’re having 🧡 It’s like they need a hand to step outside of themselves and join you - in right now, today, and tomorrow, that direction, with love. This could be you too. Musician seems directly connected to your partner, and for the singles too, someone may literally be dating one, or are one.

Couples Oracles:

34 Stuck

You may be stuck because you are overly attached to a method or piece.

17 Flash

A creative flash of inspiration will come to you and quickly give you the perfect solution.

🔸 Singles: King of Wands & Ace of Cups

Regarding: Judgement

You’re getting a lot of attention this year, being positively magnetic for some of you 💋 people can’t seem to get enough of you, or you could have several people around you with a crush, flirting, willing to ask you out or say yes if you do. For some there is a very clear return of something - an ex - that’s only if you want them because I get they want you. You could separate and get back together in the same year, for some. Many of you are probably working on your appearance, cutting/dyeing your hair, getting tattoos, going to the gym, buying new clothes, whatever that is for you. You singles are focused on *glowing up* to bring in what you want. If it’s an ex, it’ll work. If it’s someone new, that’ll work too. I’m getting you could pretty much have whoever you want. Do I see long term, not really, but I see a new start no matter who it is you want to be with. If it’s an ex, it’s a brand new beginning, you’re both letting old shit go.

I pulled a card for any specific person Spirit wants to highlight and got The Storyteller. Could be a fire sign too, this King of Wands may be them for some, you for others. They could work with children or have a great relationship with them, they’re an entertaining personality. Kinda controlling. They like to call the shots and direct things, they have a way of speaking that captures the attention of many people, and they may do an amazing job of performing for “an audience”. Could be a literal musician, or someone with a following, and fans. It’s also possible that they travel a lot or don’t tend to stay in one place, there’s a nomadic vibe here, but I don’t get that being suspicious, more like it’s just part of them, or maybe their job. It’s also possible to start something you later have to leave due to travel or distance.

Singles Oracle:

04 - Recycle

Learn from the past and apply it to creating your vision of the future.

🔸 Career: Page of Pentacles rev & 2 Pentacles

Regarding: Knight of Cups

Probably this is where most of the contention at the beginning fits in. Whatever you have planned for up to this point will probably change, and you’re going to need to be flexible in how this works out for you. I see a lot of financial concerns in the beginning, and needing to abandon something being a real issue. For some of you, it’s possible your job decides to shut down a location and you can either move somewhere else to continue working for them, or you have to find something else entirely. They might not even be offering to help pay your moving expenses should you choose to continue with them and actually move, meaning if you have six months left on a lease, you’re on your own to pay that off. AND moving costs. Or if you have a child here, a battle with the other parent & custody could be what’s being mentioned.

With this, before anything, I’m getting to “read the fine print”, don’t just blindly agree to something and don’t sign anything until all sides have been carefully considered. Are they moving you to a more expensive area, but paying you the same? Is traveling or any movement in your career really worth what you’re giving out in return? Last year you were dead set on something, and now you’re being asked to not be quite so confident, make sure you check and double check everything you’re signing up for. You’ll be distracted, or it’s possible someone wants you to do something and they’re purposely distracting you, so you’re then stuck in a contract or something you didn’t sign up for - or weren’t aware of. Be very careful with that. You could be deciding to move for love too, if your person is at a distance from you, or they may be doing that for you, and your finances may change in this way. Whatever you’re leaving behind is a source of excitement and inner conflict - both, maybe even competition on some level. Ambitions could take you far, just be sure you aren’t being bamboozled or signing up for something you don’t actually want. You could also get stuck “being nice” for someone or taking on extra and don’t know what that actually entails until you’re stuck with it.

Career Oracle: Distractions

When you are trying to solve a problem, you will often be tested by distractions.

🔸 What needs to be left behind in 2023: 2 Swords rev & 8 Pentacles

Regarding: Page of Wands

Not a fan of this energy tbh. It’s like last year you were super confident about where things were going, you were motivated, inspired, and ready to take on new experiences or head in a new direction with your career. That’s very positive, and that’s what’s needing to be left behind, which is a pause for me…you *need* to be unsure, skeptical even, dotting every t and actually reading contracts or proposals sent to you this year. For work travel, The World can indicate the literal world, it may not be a few miles away, but sending jobs overseas or having you work with those where there’s a huge language barrier…may not be an issue, but you may not be totally aware of what you’re signing up for either. Additionally with this, is the trust in others to make decisions for you, especially regarding your career. You can’t assume everyone is working in your best interest, in fact I’m getting they could be purposely distracting you in order to lead you to believe something - and stick you with some bs. I do see really good potential, but it’s case-by-case, for some it’s great and the issue is settling a lease contract & moving costs. For others, there is a whole custody battle or combined assets shortchanging you somehow, tricky contracts and the like.

All three Mercury retrogrades move through the fire signs this year, and this reading may be highlighting those times specifically - astrologers warn of these things for everyone at that time - but especially you 💯 For the risings, the Pluto dance between 10th & 11th Houses definitely show more online activity or “world” involvement, and Jupiter moving from your 2nd to your 3rd opens up communication in a big way with foreign contacts, but a move would probably be closer to where you are already than actual long distance travel - unless the 3rd/11th house rulers are in the 9th. Some of you could get lucky with an online thing or creating a social media page of some kind, this is likely a boost to any online/social media creators.

Leave Behind Oracle:

77 Confidence

Know and feel this affirmation, beyond a doubt: “I AM all that I need to get what I want.”

7777 show anything stuck with your relationships will move forward with success.

Many ones and Aces show possible missed opportunities in (new) love and money due to distractions around you or in your way. That could cost you - especially money.

8888 shows leaving something behind, and this may possibly be an impulsive or very fast decision needing to be made - regarding your work. Some of you will intuitively know exactly what to do, others of you may have that choice made for you by someone else - probably regarding work. Or a custody thing, could be forcing you to pass up on a financial opportunity you’d otherwise consider.

Astrological Shifts in 2023 (for Risings):

Jan 01 - Mercury direct in Sag

Jan 21 - Pluto enters Aqu (again) - 11th 🤝 House

Feb 14 - Mars conj. Pluto Aquarius - 11th 🤝 - likely intense, powerful, & transformative, could highlight power trips, anger, aggression or control issues in regards to friendships, networking, social media & the internet, all of which will be undergoing a massive transformation for you for a long time

Mar 09 - Mars Aqua squares Uranus Tau at 5:55 P.M. - likely a day of conflict - 11th 🤝 vs. 2nd 💰, likely a conflict in personal values, could be relating to money, someone may make you feel self-conscious or you do, don’t compare what you have to other people, everyone is on a different path than you

Mar 21 - Venus conj Saturn Pis - love & boundaries go hand in hand

Mar 25 - Lunar Eclipse in Lib - 7th ❤️

Apr 01 - Mercury retrogrades Ari - 1st 🫵

Apr 08 - Solar Eclipse in Ari - continued lessons from the nodes throughout this year, issues between masculine/feminine likely, father/mother, action/reception, others/self

Apr 24 - Mercury direct

May 18 - Venus conj Uranus & Sun conj Jupiter, all in Taurus - 2nd 💰all very positive, you could receive a sudden windfall, a bonus, score tickets to a festival/game, it’s a good time to play the lottery because why not

May 25 - Jupiter enters Gem - 3rd 🗣️ could boost relationships with siblings, neighbors, the people in your neighborhood, and your communication is more likely to come off as charming, witty, you’ll be able to convince others of anything and win people over easily

May 29 - Mars conj Chiron Ari @ 22’ - 1st 🫵 be careful where safety is concerned, especially with driving or anything where you need to pay attention, no texting, the actions of others could potentially hurt you, and 22’ may make that literal so let’s not & be safe 🙏

June 29 - Lilith enters Lib - 7th ❤️ is a sexual, steamy, taboo, temptation sort of placement, likely only felt if/when it aspects something in your chart, but it’s a double edged sword that may show itself as anger, obsession, jealousy, darkness, bringing out the worst in people around you…check your own motives with everyone, and then check theirs before rushing in or knee-jerk reacting to things.

July 06 - Venus Can square Chiron Ari - 4th 🏡 vs 1st 🫵 home & family could trigger wounds inside of you that hit you right in the heart, what those are will differ for everyone, some may be positive & healing being Venus

Aug 04 - Mercury retrogrades Vir-Leo - 6th 🤒🐶 & 5th 🎉

Aug 19 - Venus Vir opposes Saturn Pis & Jupiter Gem squares both - 6th 🤒🐶, 12th 😵‍💫, and 3rd 🗣️ could relate to gossip at work about secrets or things you didn’t know, mental health is highlighted, so is physical health, and learning associated with that, if there was a transit that is like “your dog might get sick” it could be this one, or your neighbors dog might keep you up and piss you off - you may finally pop off about it & do something

Aug 27 - Mercury direct Leo

Sept 01 - Pluto enters Cap (last time) - 10th 🔨

Sept 16 - Venus Lib opposes Chiron Ari @ 22’ - 7th ❤️ & 1st 🫵 - not a fan of the degree being 22’, involves or addresses pain with your closest relationships, could show breakups, healing issues, counseling with the T Square, but centered around wounds

Sept 17 - Partial Lunar Eclipse Pis - 12th 😵‍💫, preparing for the nodes to shift next year

Oct 02 - Solar Eclipse Lib - 7th ❤️

Nov 19 - Pluto enters Aqu (for good) - 11th 🤝

Nov 25 - Mercury retrogrades Sag - 9th 😇

Dec 06 - Mars retrogrades Leo - 5th 🎉

Dec 15 - Mercury direct Sag

Dec 24 - Jupiter Gem squares Saturn Pis - 3rd 🗣️ vs. 12th 😵‍💫 could relate to sharing difficult news, filling others in, gossip, learning information you didn’t know that makes your brain go “whaaaat??” or being the one with that information, what others say or news you get may affect you on a very deep level.

#Aries #Aries rising #new year tarot reading #2024 tarot #Aries 2024 reading #new year reading #2024 #predictions #astrology #tarot #astroblr #tarotblr #2024 readings #horoscope #Aries 2024 horoscope

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b3st-part-of-b3li3v3 · 2 years

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lol being trans is so complicated

I feel alone most of the time

I can tell people don't understand me. It's not their fault, and on a good day it's fine, it's whatever.

But when it's bad, I can fell it, I make them uneasy, they feel uncomfortable around me. On a bad day it's suffocating.

Even the people who love me, my parents, my friends, my little sibling who is my closest confidant. I can feel the tension grow whenever I do anything from mention it in passing or crack a joke. I can feel them avert their gaze, like they're afraid I'll sense their thoughts through their eyes. Even in writing this, it's like, what are they feeling? Shame? Disbelief? Confusion? Embarrassment? Do they just not believe me but don't want to hurt my feelings? People are visually uncomfortable around me and it hurts me in the very depths of my soul. It feels like each step I take forward others are backing away from me, so the distance between where I was and where I am feels that much farther. It's debilitating sometimes. Not always, but sometimes, yeah.

It cuts so deep because I love people, I love gender, and I love the human experience. I'm an open book if you care to ask, but now... there are huge, foundational, exciting, and frustrating aspects of my life and identity that are taboo. Maybe it needs to start with me, but god I'm so tired.

I am only now starting to truly grasp the idea of marginal stress, and the way people's intersectional experiences can lead to these big societal gaps. Being trans is exhausting. I've always been a pretty stereotypically successful person. Good grades, loved school, great with people, could get a job. I love learning and school and friends and everything, but it was hard. Depression amplified by undiagnosed neurodivergency and an unnerving sense of disconnect I would later identify as dysphoria made everything a struggle. Completing high school, despite me loving school, was like pulling teeth out. I shed so many tears over college applications. But I did it, and I'm here, and I'm alive, and I'm good at it. I had to suffer a lot to do it, but I did. I kept up.

It's hard not to feel alone. All of my struggle was internal. I wanted good grades, I wanted college, I wanted to keep going. But more than that, it was me who got me out. It was me who fought back against my eating disorder even when everyone thought I was crazy. It was me who didn't kill myself in high school, who got out of that god-forsaken church. I was the one who researched ADHD when no one would listen. I tried to make it easy on people when I came out. I started slow, over years. It was me that got my whole family to go back to therapy, to reach out to a gender affirming therapist, to buy a binder, to reach out about hormones. I was alone driving to the doctor, I sat alone in the waiting room, alone at the CVS, alone at the kitchen table, my hands shaking, for my first intramuscular injection. Everyone in my life had told me it made them uncomfortable to talk about it.

It's like, I can't even be poetic or cute, because it hurts. It hurts because I know every one of these people accepts others like me, but it's my proximity that's alarming. They don't understand the stress. One of my friends was ranting about how at almost 20 years old she doesn't have a bank account that she doesn't share with her father. I took everything in me to listen. My parents don't want me on hormones, and even though they mean well, it still makes me sad. I am still legally entitled to their insurance, not that they would even not let me use it if I wasn't, but I pay for it with my money I make working my jobs. My financial independence is a huge part of how I can even transition. I hate that I feel resentment towards this friend but I do. The idea that she would want to get a credit card just so her dad can't make snide comments about her buying clothes from Shein or a signed copy of a book is comical to me. I hate comparing people's situations (we had even just finished a conversation about Shein which finished on that topic), but I'm financially independent so I can buy the gender-affirming, life-altering, world-changing medical care that I wouldn't have been able to start without it. Her having her own bank account or not, it doesn't make any significant difference in her life, she doesn't have to make a choice but she can still choose. I'm not mad at her, I'm grieving for myself. Not that it's even that big of a deal, but god, it just makes me think.

I'm not mad at anybody, I've just so recently realized why life is hard for trans people. In biology class we were doing a blood typing lab, and part of that involved pricking yourself with a safety needle. One of those little orange boxes where if you press down a little needle pops out. You don't see it go in, it bleeds for less than a minute, and you go on with your day. The class was losing their minds at this. Grown ass adults, the whole class losing composure about having to "stab" themselves with these needles. Funny thing is, they didn't even have to? If they didn't want the needle they could use some blood the lab had on hand. I'm watching these people freak out and all I can think about is my injection I'll be doing tomorrow morning at 6am. I'll have to pull back on the needle at it sits an inch and a half in my leg to make sure I'm not injecting into a vein and going to kill myself, and these adults are freaking out over a needle. That idea sat like stone in the bottom of my stomach. I have no problem with people disliking needles, or having to hurt themselves, or having a weak stomach, or not being manly enough or anything. It's because it felt isolating. I realized I was the only one who had to be so comfortable around needles, who had to put on a brave face tomorrow morning and draw up the oil. No one around me could have lived a day in my life. It's kind of exciting, but on a bad day like that day, it was like a curtain went up around me. And how do I explain this to someone? That seeing people wince over a needle leaves a pit in my stomach that drags me down for the rest of the day. I never thought stress would be so personal, so seemingly random, and affect me so much.

I always joke about being a self-made man, which is a lie, since I'm afraid it wouldn't land. But god, I take pride in that! The idea that I'm working for this. I experience this is a much more purposeful way than any of you bitches. You got here by chance? I got here by choice, every scar and stitch proof of my devotion to myself and to my cause. I'm more of a man than you'll ever be, I bled for this. It sounds violent and aggressive, but god I'm working so hard to get up out of bed every morning. Just to convince myself that we're getting one day closer. Finding the little moments of euphoria and savoring those forever. One of my few queer friends at school took me to Salem and did an amazing job of gendering me correctly. It was effortless for her, and I couldn't stop beaming. I felt like me, I felt so good I can't even describe. And it feels even better because I know she fully sees me as I see myself. Their is no miscommunication, no doubt, no tension which swallows me whole. She is one of the few areas of my life where I am understood. I'm so grateful to her I can't describe. She cured me, if that makes sense. Not even her, she just prescribed it. Being my correct gender cured me, even for that one night.

I've known I've been some flavor of gay man since middle school, but what do you do once you know? And you're so little and you're so confused. I grew up in a conservative church, I didn't know trans people existed, let alone ones who were also gay. I always say that you were your truest self in middle school. Not necessarily down to the minute details, but more of the idea that in middle school you were so generally awkward, odd, or out-of-place that you could explore facets or interest of desire that you who works a 9-to-5 cannot. I new I was a man, but didn't know it was possible to do that in any meaningful way. That night in Salem everything clicked. Not only did I want to be a guy, more than anything, but I could. No questions asked, no ifs, ands, or buts about it. I can be a guy. It's never felt like that before. Most people treat me not as I am, but as I appear to be, and that shakes my confidence, not of what I am, but if I will ever not make people uncomfortable. Like, yes transitioning is amazing, the happiest and most satisfied I've ever been in my life, but that night proved that there is a transitioned. It's real hope, and clarity like I haven't experienced in a while. True euphoria.

Anyways, I lost the plot. I've been listening to My Way by Frank Sinatra recently, and it feels very much applicable to my experience. I'm doing it, alone, and very well. I'm doing it my way. And when I'm there, when I'm not -ing, but -ed, when cis people finally respect me because I appear as I am, when I have grown to be palatable, I'll have done it my way. Fighting tooth and nail, alone, for truth so inherent I thought it was a non-issue. And no one else gets the credit. I will have graduated, top of my class, doing straight cis-normative sexist homophobic society better than any of you all ever have. And it sounds bitter, it sounds harsh, it sounds unforgiving, but god so has this. I'm the little red cock and I'm gonna eat my fucking bread man. I am trans joy and trans wrath and trans justice and trans perseverance. AHHHHHHHHHH. I love it, again so happy, but god people sure as hell won't let it be effortless.

#transgender #ftm #rant #can you tell im exhausted #i feel so triggered by the way other people can relax #im tense becuase I have to be to stay afloat lmao #no one is wrong its no ones fault but that doesnt make it easier

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kny111 · 3 years

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Need help with housing - Mutual aid - Landlord harassment

Hey everyone, as some of you may know I recently separated with my partner whom we had a child with and have been struggling with paying rent and expenses for my self and baby since she moved. I’m still unemployed looking for part time work to have time for my baby and pay rent and utilities. In total the monthly expenses I’ll be dealing with now will be $2,000 at the very least which I don’t have. I’m struggling finding government rental assistance to help me cover the costs so I’m going here after months of dealing with this silently as I normally do from survivor’s guilt. I was in financially abusive situation and I’m still dealing with the symptoms from lack of appetite, energy to do anything, depressed, anxious. I was dealing with my recently diagnosed thyroid (hypothyroidism) situation (I’ve had it for a while as does my mom but was only recently diagnosed with it this year) and the symptoms that come with it.

The same week I had missed my dose for my meds 2nd day I had pulled my muscles (likely from the condition + having been biking + doing hard labor without stretching) and was literally immobile for like 2 weeks or more I lost a lot of muscle mass and still struggle walking up without feeling a bit of that stress from the initial leg pull on my calf. Weeks later, as my legs were healing, the landlord ( white dude from 181 realty corp) illegally broke into my apt with super’s help even after I saw the txt he got where my partner told him I live here supposedly because of non-payment/non-lease renewal which still does not grant any one that access if you’ve lived in the dwelling for over 30 days as the law states. The situation gave me PTSD, more social anxiety and depression, suicidal ideation and loss in interest for a lot of things, emotionally distressed most the times. And now I’m in housing court again dealing with landlords engaging in criminal shit cause the city lets em do whatever they want at the expense of poor folks. I had to file a harassment case against him for the illegal break in and have a court day for may. I’m also planning on suing for the emotional, physical, and financial damages done because I had to climb back up into my apartment through the firescape my neighbor allowed me through with my legs still fucked up since he had locked me out. The same day I had to spend 580$ dollars for a new locking system. He tried coming back the next day and tried fucking with the new lock, I called the cops on him. They told him (after asking me for proof of address so imagine if I didn’t have that shit) that I have every legal right to be here (and from what housing court told me they should have actually arrested him for the break in). Right now I just need any help, love, kind words as per usual because I don’t have a large support group right now and I’m dealing with a lot of superstitious people (my family included as they typically side with the person who got money) that aren’t too helpful. I would deeply appreciate any financial help as that’s what I’m most distressed about now. Feels like I got left behind after doing so much of the housework that never got done just because niggas aint have a job in a pandemic they actually gave a fuck about from the start. Thanks for reading, again, any help is appreciated tenfold. venmo: @kennyg183

cashapp: $kennygmz

Update: I didn’t at the time of posting this on April 17th, upload any proof along with the post out of respect to those donating money so they know I’m not on here tryina con no one. Here are some of the bills I’ve had to deal with since the whole ordeal.

This was from when I had spent the day at the hospital just to get checked out and told I was fine after my financially abusive ex had called them on me. This was the subtotal I have to deal with.

This was from when the landlord (even after knowing I was still living there as evidenced by text kept between my ex and he) broke into my apartment with the help of the super (both while males). This had happened after I had injured my leg and had stepped out to get emergency cash from the bank, in between the 30 minutes it took me to do this they were already there doing breaking in illegally despite my rights.

This is the current subtotal of my rent, I blocked out the name because this is my ex’s name since she had rights to the lease. I had sent a check of the exact rent amount and he never took it, instead charged double as though I never sent a check (my bad, I checked and it shows as this on the paper check they sent but I was told he did cash it in by my local bank). Here’s a copy of that check:

I’m still readjusting the apartment to my new living situation and I’ve been planning to start selling my art again by investing in a small stock room here where I can try making some money with that and courier/delivery gigs with my bike. It’s going to cost me to get the stock room up and going and will need a printer to make my own copies of my work for once and delivery my self if buyers are in my range if not will deliver the standard mail like I normally did. Any help in these endeavors would be really appreciated as I’m going through lots of turmoil. Thanks. - Ken

#mutual aid #signal boost #rent #help #housing crising #covid-19 #pandemic #emergency funds #financial abuse tw #abuse tw #donation

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ncssian · 3 years

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A Favor: Part Nineteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: another chapter where the girls are clowns and cassian worships nesta's every breath 🙄 i promise some variety is headed your way soon

***

Gwyn adamantly refuses to accept any gifts for her birthday, much to Emerie’s irritation and Nesta’s relief. No amount of love for her friends can make Nesta enjoy the turmoil of hunting for the perfect gift, and she happily shows up at Gwyn’s apartment that night with nothing save for an overnight bag.

Gwyn easily has the nicest home out of all three of the girls, and it makes Nesta feel oddly proud to have a financially stable friend. Nesta herself has been flacking on her legal consultant duties to Night Court Inc., choosing to make do with the money she’s already earned while focusing on school.

Once they’ve all changed into sleep clothes and are settled around the living room coffee table with a cupcake and a glass of wine each, Gwyn pulls out a brightly colored bracelet-making kit with a sheepish grin. “I found this while I was looking through my childhood things,” she says, opening the kit. “You guys aren’t too grown for it, are you?”

“Depends,” Emerie hums, leaning over to get a closer look. “Is it Rainbow Loom?”

She gets her answer when Gwyn dumps out bundles of multicolored string instead of rubber bands onto the table. Looking disappointed, Emerie plucks up a handful of string. “Fine, I guess I can make do.”

Nesta licks cream cheese frosting off her thumb. “How do you make them? The bracelets?”

She’s met with two dumbfounded stares. “Have you never been to a thirteen year old’s slumber party?” Gwyn says.

“...No?”

When Gwyn and Emerie keep staring, Nesta feels the need to add, “I’ve never been to a sleepover. This is my first.” She was never one to be invited to sleepovers or social gatherings; even when she made acquaintances in middle and high school, they were just that—acquaintances.

“That’s… actually kind of sad,” Emerie says. Gwyn elbows her hard, making her yelp.

“I never thought of it that way,” Nesta says, shrugging. Though maybe it’s because a lot of things about her childhood were sad; it isn’t like she kept count of it all.

“Well, you can learn how to make bracelets now,” Gwyn states, taking out a little plastic baggie and emptying it out onto the table. Small silver charms scatter everywhere. “Everyone gets three colors and one charm.”

Nesta leans forward, making out the different charms. She spies one in the shape of a book, and another in the shape of a dove, and one in the shape of a music note. She snatches up the eighth note before anyone else can. Gwyn takes the book for herself, and Emerie considers the selection of charms before picking a dagger-shaped one. They prepare their string next.

“Now, we can either braid them or knot them.” Gwyn demonstrates how to do it either way, Nesta watching closely before imitating her. She braids the strings of her bracelet as best she can, her cheeks turning red with frustration whenever she spies one of the other girls’ perfect knots. Her half-eaten cupcake is forgotten as she tries to get her bracelet to stay together.

At one point she just has to accept the shoddy work she’s done and tie the bracelet off. She checks to see if it fits on her wrist.

“Now everyone give their bracelet to the person on their left,” Gwyn declares.

Nesta clutches her sloppily-made bracelet to her chest as Emerie responds, “What?”

“So we can wear each other’s bracelets,” Gwyn explains. “And carry around a part of each other all the time.”

“If I had known we were gonna be sentimental, I wouldn’t have picked the cute charm,” Emerie grumbles. Nesta agrees, but Gwyn just clicks her tongue and starts switching bracelets around. In the end, Nesta has Emerie’s dagger bracelet, Gwyn has Nesta’s music note bracelet, and Emerie has Gwyn’s book charm.

Nesta wiggles her bracelet on and turns her wrist over in the light. “That was fun,” she decides. “What happens next at a sleepover?”

“Next,” Gwyn says, “we exchange our most embarrassing secrets with each other, and then we do each other’s hair.”

Emerie shakes her head. “Okay, now I’m really too old for this. Anyone want to watch a movie?”

Gwyn nudges Emerie. “I’m the old one here, and it’s my birthday.” She raises her pert chin in a way that doesn’t look very grown up at all. “What I say goes.”

Emerie flicks up an eyebrow and stares in challenge, which Nesta interrupts by saying, rather exasperatedly, “I’ll go first, then.”

She digs around in her head for something embarrassing enough to be socially acceptable, only to realize that although a lot of embarrassing things have happened to her before, none of them are secrets. She finally settles on an admission. “When I was a kid, I had a thing for breaking and entering into rich people’s empty houses and hanging out in them. Does that count as a secret?”

Gwyn gapes, laughing in disbelief. “Are you going to leave it at that?”

“That actually sounds fun.” Emerie swirls her wine. “Why’d you stop?”

Nesta had almost forgotten. “I got caught.” She remembers the terror of being fourteen and fleeing past cherry blossom trees on her bare feet. “The owner’s family showed up early to vacation one year, and I never risked going back after that.” She shrugs. “Who’s next?”

Gwyn raises her hand excitedly. “I used to be a hardcore Gleek. Like, I had a closet full of Glee memorabilia.”

Nesta doesn’t quite know what to say. Emerie winces. “Maybe you should’ve kept that one a secret.”

“It was only one facet of my entire theatre kid personality. Should I tell you about the rest?”

Emerie raises her hands in surrender. “Please don’t. I’ll go next if it makes you stop.”

Gwyn laughs and Nesta perks up. “What’s your secret?” She hopes Emerie will finally admit to filling their shared Kindle account with lesbian spanking fiction.

But Emerie suddenly gets serious, clearing her throat and fingering the stem of her wine glass. “I might have the worst secret,” she says awkwardly. “I haven’t been honest with you guys.”

Nesta straightens, and Gwyn looks intrigued.

“In my defense,” Emerie says, “I never expected all of us to end up hanging out this much. Before Nesta and I became friends, all I did was show up to school to kick rich kids’ asses and make career connections.”

“Spit it out, Emerie,” Nesta tells her.

So she does. “I’ve been lying about my age.” Her cheeks turn red, either from alcohol or embarrassment, Nesta doesn’t know.

Nesta furrows her brows. “You’re not twenty-four?”

Emerie shakes her head in guilt.

“How old are you, then?” Gwyn says.

Emerie mutters something too low for them to hear. When Gwyn tells her to repeat herself, she says, too loudly, “Twenty-eight.”

She’s met with silence, and then—

Gwyn starts cackling, nearly keeling over. Nesta can only stare in shock. “Why would you—?”

“Because school is a shark tank,” Emerie says. “Everyone else went there straight out of undergrad, and I had to work four jobs for four years just to afford tuition. Being old at Prythian means being poor.” She quietens, looking down at her brown hands twisted together. “And by the time we started to get close, it felt too weird to bring up. So… I’m sorry?” She looks up to see if Nesta is upset.

Nesta doesn’t know what to feel, but Gwyn seems to. “You called me old,” she accuses. “You’re nearly a grandma!”

“Were you going to lie about your age forever?” Nesta interjects.

“If I had known there was going to be a forever, I would have opened up a lot sooner,” Emerie defends.

Nesta drops her head onto the table and covers her ears with her arms. “This is so weird,” she says against the wood of the table, her voice muffled. “I can never look at you the same way ever again.”

“That’s fair,” Emerie says cautiously. “But are you really mad?” Nesta feels a hesitant hand touch her shoulder.

“I need time to process,” Nesta says from her cocoon. Suddenly she hears a hum and a click, and her cocoon gets even darker. Gwyn and Emerie make twin sounds of surprise.

Poking her head up, Nesta blinks to find total darkness in the apartment. The heater has stopped running, leaving behind a quiet stillness.

“Shit,” Gwyn curses, fumbling with her phone. The flashlight turns on, lighting up her face. “I swear I paid my electric bill.”

“I don’t think it’s just you,” Emerie says, getting up to look out the window. “Look, the whole street is out.”

By the time they gather some candles and light them, the apartment has dropped twenty degrees in temperature. Nesta shudders, wishing she’d brought some warm pants with her.

“Let me get us some blankets,” Gwyn says, running off to the linen closet. Emerie and Nesta huddle together on the couch while they wait.

“So you’re really not mad at me?” Emerie asks, hope in her voice.

“Not mad,” Nesta says. “But I think we all lost a little respect for you back there.”

Emerie smiles. “Just a little?”

Gwyn comes back then wearing a thick sweater and carrying a pile of comforters. “I got a text from the landlord,” she says, unceremoniously dropping the blankets onto the couch. “Ice took out the power lines in the whole neighborhood, and we’re not getting any electricity until morning.”

“But it’s negative temperatures outside,” Nesta protests. “We’ll freeze to death.”

“Not if we all cuddle.” Gwyn tries to beam at them, but the effort is futile. “I’m sorry, guys,” she sighs, plopping onto the couch beside Nesta. “This is a terrible birthday celebration.”

Nesta wraps an arm around Gwyn and tucks her into her side, soaking up her warmth as Emerie spreads a heavy comforter over all of their legs. “What are you apologizing for? You did nothing wrong.”

The girls sit in silence for a few minutes until Emerie speaks up. “I wonder what Mr. Madani is doing right now.”

“What?” Nesta frowns.

“He’s probably all alone in his fancy heated cabin, unaware that you’re stuck in the cold dark.” Emerie suddenly smacks Nesta’s arm. “Hey. Why are we freezing our asses off here when you practically own that cabin?”

“I do not practically own that cabin,” Nesta splutters. “And this is Gwyn’s birthday. Why would I take you to Cassian’s place on her birthday?”

“Exactly!” Emerie says. “It’s Gwyn’s birthday, and she deserves better than this. Can’t your boyfriend be a little charitable and share his nice house with us?”

Nesta turns to Gwyn for help, but Gwyn just says carefully, “...Is it a big cabin?”

Emerie nods fiercely, pulling out her phone. “Eris has a picture of it from New Year’s on his Instagram. You wouldn’t believe how much money these Night Court execs make.”

Nesta makes pointed eyes at Gwyn. “You really want to spend your birthday with two strange men?” Cassian and Azriel aren’t exactly meek, nonthreatening men either—at least not at first glance. Considering the state Gwyn was in just some weeks ago, this doesn’t sound like a good idea at all.

Gwyn sounds wary but open-minded when she says, “You trust them, right? And it’s not like we’re going to let the guys join our sleepover. We’re just going to have a warm place to stay while we wait for my power to come back.”

When it’s phrased like that… Nesta purses her lips, thinking.

“Fine,” she finally decides. “Let’s go.”

***

Nesta strips off her jeans almost as soon as she enters the cabin. Much to Cassian’s pride and pleasure, this leaves her wearing only one of his old sweatshirts. Meanwhile, Gwyn and Emerie stand around awkwardly in the middle of the living area without knowing what to do next.

“Make yourselves at home.” Cassian grins at them. “Do you need anything? Food? Drinks?”

“Stop worrying,” Nesta groans. “We don’t need to be mothered.”

“I totally hear you,” he nods. “I’ll make cookies.” And maybe some hot drinks. It’s supposed to be a birthday party, after all.

Just then, Azriel appears at the top of the stairs in a dark hoodie and sweats. He’s halfway down the steps when he notices the living room full of girls and promptly turns around.

Cassian calls his name before he can escape. “Want to help me out in the kitchen?”

“No, thanks,” Az says over his shoulder, leaving Cassian alone to play host.

While Gwyn and Emerie admire the cabin (“There’s a gym down the hallway and a library upstairs,” Nesta points out to them), Cassian gathers baking ingredients in the kitchen. He rarely eats desserts or junk food, much less makes them, but surely he can manage a snack for the girls.

When he returns to the living room half an hour later with cookies and mugs of hot chocolate, the coffee table has been moved out of the way and replaced with a spread of blankets and pillows. The fire crackles hotly enough that Gwyn and Emerie have joined Nesta in discarding any extra clothing articles, and they all cheer from the couch when they spy the food.

“Goddamn,” Emerie whistles at the platter of cookies on Nesta’s lap. “Nesta told us you were a catch, Mr. Madani, but she didn’t tell us she got the full housewife package.”

“Shut up.” Nesta shoves a cookie into Emerie’s mouth and passes Gwyn some hot chocolate. Any toughness vanishes when she looks back at Cassian. “Thank you,” she mouths, and he answers by smoothing out her ponytail.

Satisfied with his work and feeling guilty for crashing the girls’ fun, he’s about to call it a night when he feels a tug at his pants. Nesta is looking up at him with eyes that ask him to stay. Cassian glances nervously to Gwyn and Emerie, who are arguing about what movie to watch from his extensive streaming collection, and glances back to Nesta. Are you sure? he asks her silently.

She nods, but it isn’t until Gwyn says, “Just sit down, you’re blocking the TV,” that he indeed sits his ass down on the floor by Nesta’s feet.

A short tug of war between Gwyn and Emerie results in Emerie getting the remote. She blows a hair triumphantly out of her face. “No Planet Earth documentary for you, then,” she says.

Gwyn sits back, grumbling, “You’d think I’d get treated better on my damn birthday.” Nesta adds, “I like documentaries.”

“You’ll like The Proposal even more,” Emerie refutes, scrolling through the TV.

The smell of melting chocolate chips must invade the rest of the cabin, because not long after the movie begins, Cassian catches Azriel sneaking downstairs. As subtle as a shadow, no one even notices him until he plucks up a cookie from the side table by Nesta.

She slides her eyes over to him without turning her head. “You look like a punk with your hood up,” she snorts. “What are you, fifteen?”

From the floor, Cassian withholds a sigh.

Az shoots her a dark look, clearly not appreciating the attention brought to his presence. “Don’t be a little shit,” he warns in a low tone. He reaches for another cookie and Nesta bats his hand away. “Those aren’t for you,” she hisses.

“Can we please not—” Cassian tries.

Az glares and goes for the cookie again. Nesta smacks him back, which results in a slap fight that is only interrupted by Gwyn pleading, “Guys, we’re missing Sandra Bullock!”

Nesta pulls away, looking apologetic, and Az flushes pink. “Sorry,” he mutters. But he snatches up three cookies with a final look at Nesta and goes to sit in the armchair on the other side of the room.

Nesta, Gwyn, and Emerie get cozy once more, quickly forgetting that Az is there. Emerie stretches her brown legs out across Gwyn’s lap like a cat. Nesta drapes her own leg over Cassian’s shoulder without warning. He turns around to meet her eyes, surprised, but she’s already intently focused on the movie. Smiling faintly to himself, he reaches up to brush her skin. It probably looks to everyone else like she owns him head to toe.

One thing Cassian quickly learns about the girls is that they simply can’t sit still. Even Nesta is more restless than usual, and she nearly kicks Cassian in the head more than once while readjusting herself on the couch. Emerie moves to sprawl on the rug. Gwyn sits upside down and watches with her head dangling off the seat.

As for Cassian, he loses all interest in the movie once Nesta joins him and Emerie on the floor, unable to contain her emotions from the couch. He glances between the movie and her face to find what’s making her so giddy, but it’s only the two main characters getting ready for a shower. He lifts a brow in amusement for no one to see, but settles back to watch her face in the glow of the dying fire. He’s waiting for her smile.

Because when Nesta really likes something, she’ll smile, and when she smiles… Everything scrunches up: her nose, her eyes, her cheeks.

On the TV, a naked Ryan Reynolds and Sandra Bullock collide into each other, toppling to the floor. Nesta’s grin makes an appearance, and she slaps Cassian’s thigh in excitement, hard enough to hurt.

He hisses in a sharp breath, but doesn’t say anything or look away. He thinks he might have to kill anyone that refuses to protect the smile on her face right now, no matter who it is.

Once the scene changes, he walks two fingers up her leg to get her attention. “Nesta,” he whispers, unable to help himself.

She glances at him for half a second before looking back to the movie. “What?”

He opens his arms and gestures her closer. Come and let me hold you.

Nesta makes a face. “Don’t embarrass me in front of the girls.”

Cassian’s lips turn down. “You don’t mean that.”

She does. To prove her point, she crawls closer to Emerie and settles down next to her. Gwyn joins them on the floor, and they all huddle together.

When he catches Az staring at him with a hint of revulsion, Cassian coughs off the yearning and rejection and glares right back.

After the movie finishes, Emerie victoriously crushes an empty can of beer in her fist. Cassian has no idea where it came from. “More Sandra!” she demands.

It takes three more movies before Emerie is knocked out cold on the arrangement of blankets and pillows on the floor, Gwyn with her. Nesta eventually came back to Cassian and fell asleep with her arms wrapped around his waist, and Azriel passed out sometime after Miss Congeniality, curled up in the armchair with his fist propping up his head.

Now, Cassian carefully untangles Nesta from himself, nudging her towards Emerie instead. In her sleep, Nesta turns over to clutch the other woman’s arm and mumbles something unintelligible.

Cassian props a pillow gently beneath her head and picks up another one, throwing it harder than he needs to at Azriel’s face. “Get up,” he hisses.

Az jerks out of his sleep, looking around the dim room in confusion. Cursing lowly, he pushes himself out of his seat and scrubs a hand through his hair. “What time is it?”

“Three.” Cassian pulls a comforter over Nesta and Emerie’s shoulders.

Az crouches and picks up the other side of the comforter, adjusting it over Gwyn’s body. Cassian thinks he might see a frown cross his face for half a second, but then Az is standing up and brushing off his clothes.

After turning off the TV, the guys head for their rooms. “I didn’t think three grown women could be so... much,” Az says as they climb up the stairs.

Cassian huffs a laugh. “We were like that when we were younger, too.”

“Yeah, but we were teenagers.”

They reach the hallway. “I don’t know about the others,” Cassian says thoughtfully, “but Nesta never got to be a normal kid.” She barely got to be a normal adult. And in a couple of short years, she’ll be working her ass off at some prestigious firm and won’t have time for simple things like sleepovers anymore.

Cassian selfishly hopes he can give Nesta all the normalcy he can before that happens.

***

a/n: i’m gonna do my best in future chapters to give cassian depth beyond just his relationship with nesta 🥴 but first, be on the lookout for a gwynriel bonus scene :)

tags: @hellasblessed @sjm-things @thewayshedreamed @drielecarla @valkyriewarriors @superspiritfestival @aliveahaahahafuck @cupcakey00 @sayosdreams @rainbowcheetah512 @claralady @thebluemartini @nessiantho @missing-merlin @duskandstarlight @lucy617 @sleeping-and-books @everything-that-i-love @cassianscool @swankii-art-teacher @awesomelena555 @julemmaes @wickedqueenoffantasy @poisonous-bloom @observationanxioustheorist @gisellefigue08 @courtofjurdan @theoverlyenthusiasticwriter @wolfiixxx @cass-nes @seashade @royaltykxx @illyrianundercover @queenestarcheron @monstrousloves-explodinggalaxies @humanexile @that-golden-lyre @agentsofsheilds @mercy-is-alive @cassiansbigwingspan @laylaameer01 @verypaleninja @maastrash @bow-dawn @perseusannabeth @dead-on-the-inside666 @jlinez @hungryreadingaddict @anidealiveson @planet-faerie @shallowhighwaters @ghostlyrose2 @chosenfamily-valkyriequeens @rarephloxes @readiajin @nessiantrashh @live-the-fangirl-life @ifinallygavein @xoblivisci @sjmships @jungtaekwoonie-is-life @lysandra-tiara9 @lanyjoy-13 @frosted-crackers @post-it-notes33 @loosingdreams @fromthelibraryofemilyj @18moneytoad

#ncssianwrites #nesta archeron #nessian #cassian #a favor #nessian fic #nessian au

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scripttorture · 3 years

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I'm trying to write a character who gets depression/anxiety after a few days of torture, but I'm worried that from an outside perspective the tiredness, lack of interest, and hyper vigilance are going to look like the character has been beaten down into meekness/compliance by the torture. Any advice on how to avoid the trope that this character was broken by their expeience when most days they're too tired to argue about anything and are slowly checking out of life due to the depression?

That’s a really good question. I think the best thing to do is combine several different approaches rather then relying on one particular thing.

My first piece of advice holds true for writing any kind of minority experience. If you think you could be suggesting that an entire group has a particular feature/characteristic include another character from the same group who doesn’t. The more characters you have who are torture survivors the easier it is to show that they’re a diverse bunch with different symptoms and experiences.

They don’t need to be major characters. They don’t need to be in the story for very long. But having them there makes a big difference.

This is a lot easier if you’re talking about legally defined torture in a prison of some kind. But if that’s not the kind of story you’re telling consider bringing other survivors in during the character’s recovery. They could meet people while waiting to see the same doctor or mental health professional. They might be advised to join a group, either for group therapy or communal support. They might meet people while looking for financial support or jobs. If they’re religious they might be introduced to people through their priest or broader religious community.

The next thing worth thinking about is: what can your character practically do?

We have this tendency to conflate resistance with big, obvious, violent acts. Most of the time torture victims are not in a position to do that kind of thing. And in situations where people are held for a very long time (ie slavery, prisoner of war camps etc) what you tend to see are a lot of smaller or less obvious acts. Enslaved people did oppose slavery violently, with organised military action and with smaller acts of violence like poisoning slave owners.

But they also did a host of other things. They sabotaged equipment or products they were supposed to produce. They broke valuable objects. They provided each other with material support and aid. They escaped and set up separate societies. They channelled resources into these societies. They aided others in escape attempts.

It’s always worth thinking about what your character can actually practically do and what the risks or consequences of those actions might be.

I talk about that in a post over here. Characters can take meaningful action even when they can’t take effective action. It’s worth taking the time to think about what would be meaningful to this character and figure out ways to show them prioritising it.

It’s also worth considering what depression and anxiety can look like because yes, the features you describe are common in people with depression and anxiety. But they’re not necessarily constant and they’re not the only ways these conditions manifest.

Depression can look like sleeping all the time. It can also look like not sleeping and a lack of sleep feeds into anxiety. Insomnia also causes paranoia after a while, makes it harder to interpret other people’s responses and can increase the risk of violent behaviour.

Similarly depression can look like eating a lot, but it can also look like nausea, like being unable to eat full meals and struggling to keep food down. From the outside anxiety can be read as fear but it can also be read as aggression.

It wouldn’t be unrealistic for this character to be more depressed at times and more anxious at others. It wouldn’t be unrealistic for them to be incredibly sleep deprived, paranoid and less able to see the risk in something like… spitting on a guard some days even if they’re generally incredibly tired, lethargic and apathetic.

Basically even if this is the predominant way depression and anxiety manifest in this character there’s still leeway. There’s still moments when you can have them go against that. Even if it isn’t very often.

The choice to use an outside perspective does make things harder. Especially if that perspective is a character who believes these kinds of tropes and has a poor understanding of mental health. One way to get around this is to have the point of view character’s perspective change with time and have them come to (and lead the audience to) the conclusion that they were wrong.

But the character doesn’t need to reach that realisation if you work in enough signals to the reader that they’re unreliable. One way to do that is to contrast what the point of view character thinks with what the survivor character actually says and does.

Let’s say the point of view character is having a conversation with another person who isn’t a survivor and they present the survivor as this sad case, broken by what they experienced because of a specific behaviour. Like sleeping a lot or being listless or not engaging with things in the way they used to.

On it’s own that scene could easily back up these tropes (though it’s not an unrealistic scene because these tropes are commonly believed.) So let’s imagine the scene with the survivor’s response.

They could respond that they sleep a lot because they have chronic pain or because their depression makes it hard to eat properly which leaves them exhausted. Physical symptoms like that are often easier for people to understand and it underlines the point that this is illness not some state where they’re permanently incapable. They can also respond with the steps they’re taking to try and make their life better. For chronic pain in torture survivors that can mean medication or physiotherapy. Perhaps they’re working on changing their diet or the schedule they eat at and sleep at, to work around these physical limits.

You can apply the same kind of logic to the other points here, talk about why depression makes the character listless or stops them engaging and what they’re doing now. The aids that help them focus, how therapy is going, the new hobbies they’re exploring instead (perhaps because old ones contain triggers.)

It’s harder to apply the same thing if the character is still imprisoned and still being tortured. But you can still do it. May be the dreams and plans the victim character had before seem meaningless now, but there will still be things they want to do and there will still be things they find meaning in.

May be they don’t think they can be a Nobel prize winning doctor any more and may be to an outside perspective that looks like ‘broken’. But it’s harder for the audience to agree with that conclusion if the victim character is saying ‘My priorities are different now. I regret spending so much time working and I miss my family. If I get out I want to make them my focus instead of work.’

A self aware character might be able to say ‘I don’t think I could achieve that dream anymore. But I think I could achieve this instead.’

You can have other characters, doctors, psychologists or anyone who has worked with survivors for a long period, refute the idea these people are broken. Hurt, yes, but that doesn’t mean they’re incapable of living or of living well.

If the perspective is more of an omnipresent narrator you’ve got more scope to show little acts of resistance the character might be engaging in. You’ve also got more scope to just straight up tell the readers what’s going on in this character’s head.

It’s worth stressing that characters like this do still have and make choices. They are choices in incredibly awful situations and they are not free choices. But that capacity to choose is still there. And there are understandable, though not always rational, thought processes behind those choices.

Depression doesn’t always mean checking out of life. I’ve known a fair number of people with depression who kept going with things they considered important. They just also… got no enjoyment out of it. They were miserable and in pain. But they were still trying to do the best they could for their kids or finish their degree. These efforts weren’t always successful. Depression makes most things more difficult.

But a character willing to give up on themselves isn’t necessarily willing to give up on other things.

At the end of the day the symptoms you choose for your character and how those symptoms manifest isn’t the problem. There’s nothing wrong with picking the symptoms that are right for your character and there’s nothing wrong with writing them in this way.

The problem comes when we start telling people that there’s no hope, that nothing gets better. It comes when we imply that natural, physiological reactions to trauma are somehow the fault of the victim or that those reactions mean they are forever controlled by their abuser.

Torture is an awful, effecting and life changing experience. It leaves lasting wounds.

But humans are incredibly resilient, stubborn creatures. Our capacity for survival, to find ways to live well, is astounding.

There’s room for optimism here and it’s worth making space for that in your story.

I hope that helps :)

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#writing advice #tw torture #writing survivors #writing victims #writing symptoms #writing recovery #depression #anxiety #torture survivors are not broken #ways victims resist #mental health #mental illness in fiction

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imaginesmai · 3 years

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With all my heart (IRONDAD) - Chapter 1

Hey there! I’m back with a full fic! ❤💕💕💕 This is an irondad/bambi/The game plan AU! It’s finished, so it will have two updates every week, or more (if you guys like it a lot!) Make sure to follow me on instagram:@ irondadiscanon to know when I update, more irondad content and fic recs!

SUMMARY: Tony Stark isn't the best dad - distant, cold, almost neglectful. But when his ex-wife dies, he has to take care of his son; 5-year-old Peter, a boy with too many allergies and that can't talk to Tony without stuttering. Follow the path of two hurt people, a man and a boy, who learn how to love each other through thick and thin.-A Bambi AU (Disney) that @buckets_of_stars inspired me into writting that I've mixed with The Game Plan.

AO3 link

Tony has a tight smile on during the funeral. He knows he has no right being there, that most of the people around him, even if they are strangers for Tony, were closer to Mary than him. He shifts uncomfortable in his black suit, fighting the hangover from last night. On his right, Mary’s sister is crying her eyes out, looking at the coffin as its lowered on the ground. From what he has heard, the man besides May is Ben, his husband, and both of them have made a long journey to come to the funeral. It makes him feel bad, because Tony was the one arriving late and he lives barely thirty minutes away.

But the news hit him hard.

For six years, he has been doing just fine. He gets drunk, sleeps around with anyone that catches his eye, bosses around and goes to sleep really, really late. It’s not something to take pride of, but Tony likes his life – now, his past life. There is another thing that has been a constant for the last five years and a half; monthly cheques to his ex-girlfriend account. Since he lost any type of right over his son. Five and half years ago.

Now, Mary is lying eight foot deep in a coffin. He received a call yesterday, and found comfort in his liquor cabinet. He shouldn’t have, he’s sure of it, because he knows that there has to be new changes on his life from now on; but he still kept a small place of his heart for the brunette girl with big, doe eyes that had a contagious laugh. Tony tightens the grip on his left wrist, trying to control the shaking of his hands.

When that doesn’t work, he tries next looking at the small figure gripping May’s legs, close to Tony. It’s not the first time Tony has seen Peter Parker, because once or twice every two months, he gets to spend a weekend with his son. He has a room on the tower, as dull as a white paper, and Tony is listed as his second emergency contact. It doesn’t matter how much he tries to distance himself from Howard. Most of the times the kid is with him, Tony is reminded of the lost chance of raising him. Peter sees him as a stranger, and Tony drinks.

Peter sniffles softly, and May runs a careful hand through his curls. Taking after Tony, he’s short and skinny. The father doesn’t know much about him – that he likes science, is asthmatic and has a list of allergies, dyslexic, and his favourite colour is blue and red. Mary made sure to keep him away from Tony, and she wasn’t wrong. Because Tony is the worst influence the kid can have.

It doesn’t matter, though, because May and Ben are both active workers that are barely home, and Peter doesn’t have any other family left.

“Tony”

He turns around, and shamefully discovers that almost everyone is gone now. Only May, the priest and Peter remain. The last one is still hiding between May’s legs, hiccupping every now and then. Tony blinks and coughs the awkwardness; he tries to clear the wetness around his eyes, and thanks himself for getting dark glasses before leaving that morning. May, always the kind woman, gives him a soft smile, and squeezes his forearm gently. His husband doesn’t like Tony that much, but it seems that May sees something not even Tony himself can see.

“We have to arrange some things. Custody papers and legal documents” she says.

“Yes. I’ll – My driver is just there. He will take us to the notary. He has enough space for all of us. And don’t worry, Happy is discrete. He won’t – “

“Ben and I can take care of it just fine” May interrupts him. He pushes Peter forward, but the boy doesn’t look up. “Peter hasn’t slept much, and he hasn’t eaten since yesterday. I thought that, maybe, you could take him home and rest a little. It’s been hard for everyone.”

“Happy can take him”

“Peter needs his father”

It’s her stern voice. He has only heard it twice; once, when Peter was born and he was late for the birth, and Mary decided she didn’t even want him to meet his son. May had used her stern voice on her and Tony had held Peter close, as the boy latched on his little finger. The second time was directed at him. He was ready to give up the custody of Peter, he didn’t want to go to the trial; and thanks to May, who dragged him out of his ear, he got to see Peter every two months. Even if he hadn’t known how to do it right.

Peter looks up at Tony, and the man notices the tears still falling from his eyes. He has the same look he always carries around Tony; as if he wasn’t his father, just an authoritative stranger that he had to respect.

“I think a nap will do you some good” Tony lowers his voice, and tries to give Peter a reassuring smile. “Did you pack your bag already?”

“No” he answers in a small voice. “Uncle Ben said I c-could do it later”

“We can bring it later. Maybe have a last dinner together before we leave?” May suggests, and Peter nods vigorously. “We have to leave tomorrow morning. But we are only a few hours away. If he gets sick or needs anything, we’ll be here as soon as possible. And that goes for you too Tony. You can call me anytime you want”

“I think we’re gonna be just fine. Right, Peter?”

Tony holds his fist so that Peter can bump it, but the kid just stares at it. Possibly, it’s not the best place to do something like that. Reluctantly, he lowers his fist. He remembers the first time Peter was brought to him as a conscious human being, not a baby. Mary had been on a trip with him for three months, and Tony got to stay with Peter for a week – and in that moment, when Peter didn’t call Tony daddy but ‘Mr Tony’, Tony realized that Peter didn’t see him as a father. As a dad.

It hurts him that he hasn’t known how to be there for his son. Some of the dates Mary and him set for Peter to stay with Tony were spent poorly; Tony out drinking and Peter with Pepper or with a nanny. Tony missed some of them because he liked to party, and the man wasn’t there when the kid had his first asthma attack and ended up in hospital. He wasn’t even there for Peter’s fourth birthday, because he was lost somewhere in Monaco drinking expensive liquors and losing consciousness.

Selfishly, he thinks that this is his chance to make things right. Peter has to stay with him, because there is no chance that he lets the boy in the system, and staying with his aunt is impossible. So, he tries to bury his hurt and keeps the kind smile on.

“Give me a call when you’re finished” he tells May, who nods. The woman kneels in front of Peter, and cradles his cheek.

“We can come whenever you need us. Ask Tony to call us or use the phone mom got you, it’s in the bottom of your bag. You remember Ben’s number?” May asks. Peter doesn’t answer. “Come here, give me a big hug”

Peter launches himself to his aunt’s arms, letting out a chocked sob. May hugs him tight and lets him cry on her shoulder. As most of the times he’s with his son, Tony feels misplaced. Like he’s watching a show he’s not a part of – like it isn’t his family. It’s not, his mind supplies. They break the hug before Tony can dwell on the thought for too long. If someone expected Peter to hug his father next, they get a huge disappointment. Peter moves to stand close to Tony, and quickly dries his tears so Tony doesn’t notice them.

“No peanuts, walnuts, cashews or hazels. That goes for Nutella or other chocolate sweet that could have hazels” May remembers him, although Tony has JARVIS programmed to keep up with Peter’s allergies. “There are epinephrine injections in his bag, with the instructions. He has to take his vitamins every morning. After breakfast”

“And I have to be careful with lobsters and oysters, because they upset his stomach”

“You have to cut the crust off the sandwiches, and Peter doesn’t like cheese sandwiches. But make sure to put extra cheese on his pizza”

“He also likes mac and cheese, I know” Tony says with a bit of annoyance. “He’s my son. I know him better than what you think”

“You better take care of him, because I don’t care how much money you have or how important your last name is” May takes a threatening step forward. “If I have to drag your sorry Stark ass to court, I will. Without blinking once”

Tony briefly remembers the conversation he has had with May before the funeral. Mary said it in her will, Ben and May knew they would have to change their life style if Peter came to life with them, and Tony was the most capable person, in materials and financial terms, to take care of Peter. But still, she had offered to take him. And Ben had threatened Tony. The man hopes he can live to everyone’s expectations.

He reaches a hand and brings Peter closer. In a soft whisper that only comes out every now and then when he’s with his son, he tells him to go and wait in the car. Peter gives a quiet ‘yes sir’ and hugs May one last time. Tony doesn’t miss the glassy eyes May gets when Peter wraps his skinny arms around her waist and squeezes her tight. He has never received a hug from Peter.

Not like he feels worthy of them.

Peter waves at her and drags his feet to the car. The boy likes Happy, or at least he likes him as much as he can like someone from Tony’s life – he gives the man some rare smiles and actually answers to his questions. He watches as Peter disappear inside the car, and closes the door behind him. Then, he turns to May.

“You can’t say those things in front of Peter” he argues. “He’s gonna think I’m some kind of monster that it’s gonna eat him at night”

“He already thinks that. Why do you think he wanted to spend the night with us in the hotel instead of going with you? Peter is afraid. The only memories he has with his father are you sitting on a couch drinking, hiding in the lab or giving him away to nannies” May points a shaky finger at him. “He spent the whole night crying and sobbing, but when he comes here, he tries to hide it so you don’t see him. Trust me when I say he knows where he’s going”

“And what am I supposed to do? If he hates me so much, then maybe you should take him!”

There is a second of silence in the lonely cemetery.

“Peter doesn’t hate you, Tony. He thinks you don’t want him” she says sadly, and Tony thinks he preferred the idea of Peter hating him. “All he knows is a cold man with a hard face, that didn’t make an effort to love him when he went to see you”

“I really don’t know how to fix that, May” he admits. He realises his own eyes are getting misty behind the glasses, but he doesn’t feel strong enough to wipe them. He only wants to go back home and lock himself in the lab with a bottle of whisky, maybe two.

“You and I both know you love him. You did things wrong, but so did Mary. So just – show him you love him, now. Consider this your chance to be a father to Peter, a real father”

May surprises Tony by dragging him into her arms, and he goes rigid. He doesn’t like behind handed things, he doesn’t like shaking people’s hands, he doesn’t like touching anyone and doesn’t like being touched unless it’s Pepper. He has ignored Rhodey’s calls and Happy attempt to comfort him, because he knew that no matter how much he hated physical touch, he would break down.

So, Tony breaks down in sobs, and hugs May Parker back. The woman is tall but skinny, yet is almost as strong as Tony. It’s the touch he needs, because it manages to keep him together. Tony thinks of Mary, of how beautiful everything was before he fucked up and she left, pregnant without knowing. He thinks of her sweet smile and dimples, of her brown curls that fell loose on her back. And he sees her in the boy in the car, in the way he pretends to be collected but wears his heart on his sleeve.

A raindrop hit him on the nose, and when he looks up, he’s met with another on his left glass. He tears away from May who doesn’t bother wiping the tears away from her cheeks. They share a short nod and a few words, then Tony walks towards the car. He tries to make the small distance to it as long as possible, because he doesn’t want to meet the doe, bambi eyes that will stare at him in the car.

Because Peter does that a lot – staring at Tony. Not talking, not smiling. Staring at Tony as if he’s looking for something that he doesn’t have. That’s part of the reason why he avoids the boy so much, because if he can’t be what Peter needs, then what good can he make?

Apparently, he’s about to find out.

Want to read more? Check out my side blog @imaginesmaimasterlists, where I keep all the masterlists! Feedback is always appreciated

#peter parker #Irondad and Spiderson #irondad fic #irondad #irondad imagine #spiderson and irondad #iron dad #iron dad imagine #iron dad fic #iron dad series #tony stark #tom holland #rdj #Avengers

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16woodsequ · 3 years

Note

Weekly headcannon ask!

Do you have any headcannons or opinions on Steve and his dads relationship?

Hi! Sorry this took a bit, but here we are!

I do have some headcanons about Steve’s dad, and because I’m me, a lot of them are pretty angsty, so be warned!

TW: discussion of child abuse, ableism, and alcoholism

So first off, we have to talk about whether or not Steve’s dad is even alive. I’ve discussed this a little in a previous headcanons post, but Steve’s dad is technically dead in the mcu. Steve says he died of mustard gas. In the comics of course, Steve’s dad makes it home from the war, and is generally a terrible person.

I usually headcanon that Steve lied about when exactly his dad died. If Steve’s’ dad made it back from the war, then I headcanon he was a gas casualty at some point, and had lung issues afterwards. If he then died from something like influenza, then Steve could technically claim he died from mustard gas, without it being 100% a lie.

I headcanon that Steve does this, because I headcanon that Joseph Rogers (if he survives the war) is abusive. I imagine Sarah Rogers told Steve that he came back from the war a different person, and I can see Steve thinking to himself that the mustard gas killed his dad, just slower.

So anyways, that is an easy way to work around Steve’s claim that his dad died from mustard gas. If Joseph was abusive I can see Steve sort of wishing his dad had died in the war like he claimed.

Joseph Rogers’ A+ Parenting

I haven’t read the comics, so I am not sure if any of them expand on why exactly Joseph is abusive, but I imagine it has a few layers to it. For one, he is a veteran who is no doubt dealing with trauma in a time period when the effects of shellshock are not fully recognised. Alcohol is a common self-medicating tool, and I can see Joseph turning to that for relief.

Add onto that Joseph being a gas casualty, I usually headcanon that it is harder for him to breath after the war. PTSD and difficulty breathing would be a frustrating loss of control for someone like Joseph, and that isn’t even taking into account the daily stress of living in poverty as an Irish-Catholic.

And then there is Steve himself. Steve is chronically ill. He wouldn’t be the ideal son. His illness would cost money, and his breathing problems would probably remind Joseph too much of his own issues.

Ableism would be an easy thing for Joseph to latch on to. Eugenics was popular in that time period, and I can see Joseph seeing Steve as the embodiment of a lot of his anger. He went to war and barely made it back to his wife and child, but his child is sickly and can hardly breathe, and when he gets sick he uses up money that they don’t have.

Of course, Joseph wouldn’t be helping anything. I imagine he would have worked as much as he could, but it is debatable how well he could hold a job. I usually headcanon that he died right before the Great Depression, so he didn’t have to deal with that, but even if jobs were more available in the 1920s, I think his alcoholism would be his worst enemy and lose him jobs every couple of years or so, if not more frequently.

Sarah would be working too, since working class women would be more likely to work than middle class women, but I can see Joseph being sore about that too. I imagine every time he lost his job he was extra bitter about the fact that he had to rely on his wife’s work to survive. Toxic masculinity was deeply entrenched in that time period, so feeling emasculated would not have helped Joseph’s mood at all.

As for how often he drank, it is kind of hard to say. Technically prohibition was going on, but it was easy enough to drink in speakeasies most of the time. I’m not sure how easy it would be for him to buy alcohol and drink it at home, but it would be realistic for him to come home drunk.

Even if he had work that could be the case, since I imagine his work buddies would often go out for a drink after their shift. Of course, Joseph’s drinking would do nothing to help the financial situation of the family.

Joseph and Steve

I imagine Joseph was abusive and was a violent drunk, but while I think he hurt Steve, I don’t think he regularly beat him to a pulp. This is mostly because if he did that, then Steve would die. Steve is sick enough that I don’t think he would survive regular all-out beatings.

Of course, that doesn’t mean Joseph didn’t grab, push, hit, etc. But I think his anger tunnel-visioned on things, so if he were distracted away from it, or Steve managed to get out of the general area, then his focus would be taken elsewhere.

I think Joseph did a lot of damage with his words though. I imagine he yelled a lot about Steve’s inadequacies and how Steve is a waste of money, etc. That kind of thing would stick with Steve for a long time, and I can see him trying to be the least of a burden possible in response.

In general, living with Joseph would put anyone on edge. Even when he wasn’t actively hurting people, he could still get mad over basic things that remind him of his helplessness. Being around him would be like walking on eggshells. I imagine young-Steve flinched at loud noises and slamming doors, and yelling, but also tried not to show it, because his dad didn’t like him ‘being a coward’.

Also, I headcanon that adult Steve never really liked the smell of alcohol, especially on other people. I think part of him was a little glad that the serum made it so he couldn’t get drunk, because that means he can never get violent like his dad. I think Steve was always a little afraid of letting his temper get the best of him after the war, and so he tried to bury his feelings instead of dealing with them, because he didn’t want to turn out like his dad.

Good times

As all humans, Joseph would have his good days. Maybe he found a new job, or maybe something else put him in a good mood, but sometimes he would come home without being angry.

Those would be hard days too, in a way, because Steve and Sarah wouldn’t know if something would set Joseph off—and some days, acting worried that he will get mad would be enough to make him mad.

But I think Steve must have at least a few good memories of his dad. Maybe his dad being proud of him for a good grade in school, or maybe even being proud of him for facing off against bullies and telling them what’s what.

I think sometimes Joseph would try to treat Steve as though he were the son he wanted. He would chat with him about things they could do together ‘as men’, or he would tell him stories of his own boyhood days...but then, inevitable Steve would get sick again, and Joseph’s good humour would wash away.

Others and Joseph

I don’t think Joseph’s abusiveness was a very well kept secret. Tenement building walls are thin, and I imagine the neighbours knew what was going on. But I doubt Joseph was the only loud/violent drunk in the building.

Bucky might not have known the full extent of what was happening—because he was a kid—but he would have seen some of the bruises, and maybe Steve’s initial cautiousness around his own dad, and he would come to the correct conclusion. I don’t think Steve talked a lot about what was happening, but he would probably talk about his dad getting angry about certain things, or breaking stuff sometimes.

I imagine Bucky’s mom knew more about what was going on, and would do her best to help Sarah out, but Sarah would be in a tough spot. Divorce and single-motherhood were generally frowned upon, and her poverty would also make it harder to leave Joseph.

As for Steve’s teachers etc. I think most of them suspected too. But I don’t think much came about from it. Interesting fact, doctors were not legally required to report child abuse cases until the 60s.

Joseph death

This is a headcanon I’ve had laying around that I haven’t been able to put anywhere yet, but I headcanon that Joseph died of influenza when Steve was between 8 and 10. Given their poverty, I think Joseph would have died at home, which is kind of horrible, since that would mean Steve was around to watch his dad get sicker and sicker, and then eventually die.

As an extra cruelty, I think Joseph would be pretty peeved at dying this way, and I can see him vindictively telling Steve that he will die this way too one day, since he gets so sick all the time. I can just see Joseph being spiteful and saying something like that while Steve is trying to look after him while Sarah is working.

MCU canon Joseph

I also have a few thoughts for if Joseph did die in the war, and didn’t come back. I’ve seen content speculating that Steve wanted to join the army because his dad was a soldier. I don’t know if the comics say that anywhere, but I usually headcanon otherwise.

I think having a father who died in war (or having an abusive one afterwards), and seeing what that did to Sarah, Steve would know all too well what war could do to people.

No doubt Steve’s father would be on his mind while he tried to enlist, but I think saying he wanted to join mainly because his father was a soldier takes away from the heart of the reason Steve wanted to join—he felt like Hitler needed to be stopped, and he didn’t have a right not to do something about it.

Well, that got longer than I thought it would, but I hope you enjoyed!

Headcanon masterpost

#tw child abuse #tw ableism #tw eugenics #tw alchoholism #asks #headcanon #headcanons #steve rogers #joseph rogers #joseph rogers a+ parenting #marvel #mcu #long post #tw death #tw illness #tw alcohol #tw drinking

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petri808 · 3 years

Text

We’ll Take Back Heaven a Nalu Yakuza Au

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 |

A loud slam of the organization’s front door caused Levy McGarden to pop her head out of her own office. Curious, she walked down the hallway and saw a light on in her boss’s, Lucy Heartfilia. Had the noise been Lucy returning? That was strange because it was too early for the woman to be back so soon. The party should have kept Lucy out of the office until morning. Levy knocked at the cracked door before entering.

“Lu, why are you here? Are you okay?” Levy quickly added when she saw her boss’s forehead leaning on the table. “Did you drink too much?”

“No… I ran into Natsu, and we had a fight,” Lucy answered without lifting her head. “He just makes me so angry sometimes, so I stormed out of there.”

“Aww, Lu.” Levy walked over and put a hand on her friend’s head. “I’m sorry.” Both Lucy and Natsu were childhood friends of hers, so she knew the history between them. It was just like a made for television movie plot and hard to stay neutral in at times because she loved them both. “Do you wanna talk about it? Need a drink?”

Having heard the loud noise, another associate Cana Alberona also came looking for the source and stumbled upon the beginnings of the conversation. “Did I hear the word drink?” She popped her head into the office. “Oh, baby what’s wrong??” She questioned at seeing Lucy upset. Cana quickly joined Levy next to their friend. “Who do I gotta kill?”

“It’s just Natsu,” Lucy mumbled. “So, no killing.”

“Oh… him.” Cana plopped her butt onto Lucy’s desk. “Ya sure? I bet I could get one of my girls to take him out of your misery.”

“He wouldn’t be interested,” Levy piped in.

“Right… he’s still—”

Lucy sat up groaning, cutting them off. “That’s enough. I really don’t wanna think about that shit right now.”

“Fine, fine, then drinks it is. Relax, babe,” Cana playfully pushed on Lucy’s shoulder before plopping off the desk. “Then you’re gonna dish about tonight.” Cana always kept a stock of liquors at her desk. So, she grabbed a bottle of high quality flavored junmai daiginjo sake, glasses and set the girls up for a gossiping session.

It was reasons like this that really spoke to the heart of their organization. Everyone in the top level of this girl’s gang had known each other from childhood or high school. They were close, a found family of sisters who all had one thing in common— a real dislike for Japan’s outdated notions of gendered norms, well that and a desire to make money. But not in a conventional way. None of them wanted to work a boring office job only to what, be subservient to the male status quo? No, thank you. So, it had been Lucy who’d first approached everyone with the idea of creating their own high-end crime organization. It was amusing at first to think about an all-girl gang similar to the Yakuza… Oh, they all knew why Lucy came up with the idea to spite Natsu and the Yakuza’s rules, but it was an appealing idea. Everyone except for Levy’s family had some kind of ties to the Yakuza, so they were in essence raised in the lifestyle without ever being able to be a part of it because of their sex.

Together they brought their strengths into play and under Lucy’s business savvy thanks to her father, within just a short couple of years they were on the road to making a real name for themselves. Levy McGarden was at the heart of the organization as a tech person, and her skills in computer language is the reason they’re able to control a massively successful money laundering operation. Cana Alberona had great people skills, so she handled the escort services. Another, Erza Scarlet was the security expert who oversaw anything to do with the protection of their assets and employees. She also kept contacts with law enforcement. Mira Strauss handled the bookkeeping and financial side, and finally Juvia Lockser managed their soapland operation. Lucy herself held everything together but was the face of the group when dealing with knew contacts and clientele. Six primary women running the organization with underlings or regular staff to manage, they were nicknamed the Yosei girls because of the various fairy-type tattoos they all had somewhere on their bodies. Lucy preferred not to show hers to outsiders, but it was a pair of fanciful fairy-like wings that took up a large portion of her upper back. Natsu used to call her his angel back in the day…

The three girls sat huddled around Lucy’s desk after Levy dragged over a couple extra chairs.

“Seriously?” Cana knocked back a shot of sake and planted it on the table. “So, you didn’t have a chance to hit any marks?”

“Nope.” Lucy sipped from her glass. “Sure, I talked to some people, but I never made it past my first cocktail. He even blocked me from getting some action tonight from the hot bartender.”

Cana cringed. “That’s even worse!”

Levy giggled at her friend, “of course, you’d take offense to that Cana instead of the job.”

“Well,” Cana shrugged nonchalantly, “girls gotta take care of needs too, right? And if he was hot, that’s a real shame.”

The comment sent both Levy and Lucy into a giggle fit. Lucy may have started this out irritated but leave it to her friends to bring her out of her despair.

“Oh,” Lucy sighed and finished her glass, “the guy Loke was a total playboy too. Perfect for a no strings attached night.”

“Loke?” Cana questioned. “Orange hair and glasses?”

“You know him?— of course, you know him,” Lucy chuckled. “Why am I surprised.”

“I’ve seen him at other parties bartending. Flirts with all— the pretty girls. Very easy to get into bed, and not bad while in it. I got his number if you want it.”

“Natsu scared him pretty bad. I think Loke recognized him.”

“Hmm, that’s possible too. But hey, what Natsu doesn’t know…”

“Oh, my Kami, Cana! You are just too much sometimes!”

“Hey, just tryin’ to help out my bestie here,” she winked.

“Nah, I’m not in the mood tonight, Natsu really killed my joy.”

“He really thought that the guys there were gossiping about you?” Levy questioned. “Just because you didn’t have an escort?”

“Yeah, and you know even if he was right, he didn’t need to be a dick about it.”

Levy sighed, “he was probably right. It sucks, but that level of men, they look down on women like us. You provide a service, so to them they’re still using you which makes you beneath them.”

“And how dare a woman show up without a man by her side,” Cana rolled her eyes. “Oh well, less guilt for me when I’m taking their money,” she laughed.

Levy and Lucy laughed too, then Lucy raised a glass. “To taking their money! Cheers!”

“Cheers!” The girls clinked their glasses together and shot down their drinks.

“Speaking of escorts, how are things going Cana?” Lucy asked. They called their employees escorts because that’s the only service they provided. Think of them like high-end modern geisha without the traditional look. Their employed women provided companionship for events or business executives trying to look good and we’re trained well in hospitality, etiquette, and such to keep their dates happy. The women were highly compensated for what they did, so it was very lucrative for everyone. Sex was forbidden on the job and if a client ever tried to pressure an escort or roughed them up, they would be immediately barred from the service. However, if the infraction were bad enough, that’s when Erza would step in and handle things. The group was lucky this rarely took place because the male clientele they had wouldn’t want the shame of embarrassment either.

“Going great. We’re already getting booked up for the holidays and that still 4 months away. I guess they wanna make sure they can get certain girls before it’s too late.”

“Suckers.” Lucy snickered. “We’re using their own social norms against them, and they don’t even realize it.”

Between the three friends, they drank about half the bottle before slowing down. The conversation switched between work related topics, private lives, and back to Natsu until Lucy would switch the topic again. She knew of her buddy’s willful infatuation in her decades old battle with the man, but she just wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. Lucy still had a lot to process privately about the issues and though she loved Cana as a sister, Levy was the only one she’d really tell her deepest feelings to and now wasn’t the time to rehash anything. A few hours passed by when a knock at the door came. Another of their group was dropping by before heading out to work.

“Hey Juvia!” The three tipsy girls giggle at the same time.

“Wanna join us?” Cana questioned.

“Juvia would but she needs to check on Faerieland.”

“How is our soapland operation doing? Any problems I need to know about?” Lucy asked Juvia. The Faerieland bathhouse was the lowest level of their operations since flesh services were considered distasteful. But nevertheless, it was a highly profitable and legal one. What set them apart from all the others was the high-end quality of services offered to guests, providing both male and/or female “bathers” that clients could pay extra for to have a sexual experience. However, for that service, the client was required to be vetted by an inhouse doctor prior to a booking to make sure they were free of STD’s. Again, that was just one reason Faerieland was considered so high end and very exclusive. Some might have found it inconvenient, but most of the regulars appreciated the health factor. It’s what kept them coming back. All the employed bathers were screened regularly by an in-house doctor, and contrary to societal belief, were there by their own choice. So, the combination of anonymity, safety, and level of service kept the soapland business running with very little down times in between.

Juvia shook her head. “No problems, just busy due to the heat this time of year. Private bookings are scheduled out into next month.”

“That’s good to hear,” Levy smiled. “It’s nice that things have been running so smoothly.”

“Agreed,” Cana and Lucy chimed in.

“There is one thing Juvia should tell Lucy.” Her voice lowered, hesitant. “Mr. Natsu has an appointment booked for the end of the month. And he… just made it tonight.”

Lucy rolled her eyes and her voice dripped with irritation. “So, who’d he sign up to bang?”

“Nobody. Mr. Natsu only booked the deluxe bath and massage package. No sex.”

“Oh—” Lucy caught her surprise before she could show it, waving her hand nonchalantly as if she didn’t care. “W-well good for him. Not that I care if we’re making money of it.”

“Juvia is so relieved! She was worried you wouldn’t like him using our bath house.”

“It’s rare that he does,” Cana tapped her chin. “Hmmm, I wonder why he made the appointment tonight of all days…”

Levy slapped Cana on the arm, glaring at the woman to behave and Juvia just stood there wide-eyed and confused.

“What?!” Cana laughed. “I thought it was funny.”

“Ha-Ha,” Lucy mocked Cana. “What Natsu does is his own business and it’s not like he was trying to relieve himself tonight, the appointment is what, two and half weeks or so away? I’m not gonna lose sleep over it.”

“Okay… Juvia is confused but needs to go. Someone can fill Juvia in tomorrow.”

“Sorry, Juvia,” Levy apologized for the others. “I’ll fill you in later. But don’t worry! Everything is okay.”

“That’s good. Well then. Goodnight, everyone!” Juvia waved as she left the office.

“Goodnight!” The three waved.

“Cana,” Lucy reignited the debated now that Juvia was gone. “I don’t care if Natsu sleeps with other women, how can I when I have no problem sleeping with other men. We’re not a couple. But what does irritate me is that of all the bathhouses to choose, why mine??”

“It’s probably because of our services…” Levy threw in to diffuse the tension. “We do provide the best.”

“Yeah, I know,” Lucy sighed, “it just— it feels like he’s doing it on purpose.”

“You know I’m just teasing you, Lucy.” Cana retorted. “But I think you’re also reading too much into it. He’s a guy and history has shown a clueless one when it comes to women, so I doubt he’s masterminded going to the bathhouse as a way to irritate you.”

Lucy exhaled. “You guys are probably right. I guess I’m just still too wound up because of the party.”

“Maybe what you need to do is to unwind Lu,” Levy suggested.

Lucy sat back for a moment mulling over the idea. Yeah, maybe she should. It sure as hell wouldn’t hurt. Maybe let off some steam and stop thinking about Natsu, and a one-night fling could do just that. “You know what…” she turned to Cana with a new resolve. “What’s Loke’s number?”

Cana whipped out her phone. “Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about!”

#nalu #nalu au #yakuza au #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #nalu fan fic #nalu fanfiction #ch 4 #we'll take back heaven #petri808

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bethchapelsbonnet · 3 years

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I Dont remember if it Was on you're Ways to Tell ILY Prompt list but might I suggest a "I Choose you" Hournite One shot?

I didn't see you interact with the original submission I answered, so I included it here

I Choose You

All of the fuss that Beth went through to try to compile each and every piece of evidence that someone may need in order to get Rick the heck out of that place was simply... Well - it was actually exhausting, but she never realized until she was at the end of her days.

The database was always excellent and as the official Dr. Mid-Nite, she had access to even more information.

Not what she truly needed - to be able to actually speak to Rick. To assess how he was doing. To at least hold his hand, which.. she was conflicted about that one in particular. She didn't understand why that idea kept coming to her when she and Rick never actually really touched each other that way.

Casually - pats on the back or holding each other back in a fight, but nothing so intimate as hand holding. Maybe it was her renewed self confidence. She had chosen herself. And now, she was choosing Rick.

They didn't allow any of them to see him. He was currently being held at a juvenile center, assigned a caseworker and a child advocate attorney, with an ongoing investigation about his uncle and his home life. But, Beth found out the names of everyone involved in his case and she was sending them documents, school reports, and everything that she could scrape up to prove that Rick was in a dangerous household and had been abused and mistreated.

It was her hope that they would all see it was self defense and go easy on him. Courtney and Pat had tried to explain to her that Eclipso was controlling him. It wasn't self defense. It was just a terrible mind game.

Not too long ago, they were pressing her to accept murdering a bad guy… but suddenly, when it's THIS bad guy… who didn't even DIE, they were willing to accept Rick turning himself in and being put away? "It's what Rick wanted, to be held accountable.."

"He didn't DO it! It was Eclipso!" Beth had snapped at Courtney. Courtney's eyes went wide and she got quiet. Of course she knew that and she didn't deserve Beth being rude with her, either, but Beth was too frustrated to tell herself that at the moment and Rick wasn't around…

She called him anyway, as she stormed out.

"Rick!" She took a deep breath, "You don't deserve to be held responsible for something that you didn't do wrong!" She noticed Courtney in the corner of her eye and whispered, "There's nothing you need to be held accountable for and I'm working on helping you get out. Just… I hope you aren't too hard on yourself." She hung up and looked at Courtney.

"I watched him run around, hallucinating, breaking down as he was attacked by something that we couldn't see… it was like with Yolanda, only someone did get hurt. I didn't want to have to see that again and it wasn't easy to let Rick confess, but what else could we do? What would you have done differently?"

Beth wanted to say that she wouldn't have let him out of her sight, that she would have talked to him until he was back down to Earth.. but as a firm believer in herself, some part of her knew that Courtney didn't have that type of power. Beth was the one who could stop Rick in his tracks and make him think for a moment.

"What about when you see a dead 10 year old girl? Would you have been able to use your head in that moment and stop him from reacting?"

Beth sniffled and wiped her face, "If I was here, I know that I could have fixed this. I know that I could have talked him down. He listens to me. It's different with us. And with Eclipso… it's personal now."

Rick heard about an "adorable but incredibly annoying" girl who spoonfed a lot of information to his case worker and his advocate. They didn't have to describe her. He did initially automatically think Courtney, since that was who saw him last on the outside and that's who annoyed him more than any girl he knew…

But when they spoke about legal documents, school incidents and cases and studies of similar cases.. He knew that they meant Beth. A lot of her findings needed to be double checked by the proper authorities and his advocate would need to speak with a judge, but it was looking like Rick may be entitled to psychological treatment from years of abuse that resulted in him finally lashing back.

He wanted to argue with that, but in a way.. that felt like some type of hope and he couldn't say there wasn't truth in it. Whatever Beth had done, he finally felt some peace of mind, since coming here…

The court order to grant him a placement took shorter than he thought, even though it still felt super long. The Chapels weren't foster parents, but thanks to some… creative documentation on Beth's part, they were able to be listed as family friends to whom custody could be signed over.

He would be trying for emancipation, but in the meantime, he had a place to sleep and eat and stuff… and Beth was there.

"How did you manage to pull this off?" Rick wondered, more confused than grateful, but she didn't take it to heart. She smiled and tapped her goggles. "Of course…" he stared at his bags on the floor. "Did you get the full story?"

"I got Courtney and Pat's side of it. You don't have to tell me, but in your own time, if you want to, you can." She handed him some mail, "I filled out your paperwork and sent it in. You've gotten at least one response."

"My paperwork?"

She winced, "I totally trespassed into your car and home, scanning everything and looking for something to help me. I traced punched in walls, I took an inventory of the alcohol in there, you name it. I also found the forms that you had for college and financial aid. I took them with me, but also wondered what they were doing there. So I checked on cell phone records and saw that Miss Woods-" she rolled her eyes when she said her name. (She wasn't fond of how cruelly that woman had treated Rick, and she didn't mind saying so), "Had been there. I figured she was the one who gave those to you, went to pay her a visit and questioned her until she told me about what happened earlier. She had seen your uncle and he was belligerent and drinking. I told her that I would speak to your advocate in order to see if that was usable information. It was. She made for a very dependable character reference."

Rick looked stunned. He didn't know what to say, but eventually landed on, "Why am I at your house and not at Pat's? I don't even know your parents and they probably aren't pleased about what happened."

"Well, I believe that I've managed to do quite the PR campaign for you when I was making my rounds to see if anybody had recollection of witnessing your uncle be unkind to you. A lot of people have been quiet about things that they should have spoken up about… myself included.." she lowered her head, "I noticed bruises on you sometimes at lunch when we weren't friends and I guessed that they weren't from some school fight, otherwise, the school would know." She looked up at him and her eyes were brimming with tears, "All of us made choices to mind our business and just leave you to fend for yourself. Everybody's been feeling pretty guilty that it came to… that.."

She cleared her throat, "There's enough going on at Courtney's house, and Yolanda's isn't an option. I couldn't let you wind up at the group home. Artemis is there. The last time you two saw each other, you almost killed one another. I thought my home was the best choice. It's safe, there's just me here. My parents believed me when I vouched for you, so they would be acting like wardens or anything, and I just… I feel better knowing that if something happens, I'll be there."

He sat down on the guest bed and twiddled his thumbs, "That's just it. If something happens, I… I no longer have the hourglass. I won't be able to protect you fully."

"I can protect myself," she said, sitting next to him. "Just wait until you hear my Eclipso story."

"Your what?"

"He attacked me the same time that he attacked you…" Rick looked terrified as he checked her over for damages. "It's a long story, but I'm fine. It went very differently for me than it did for you." She looked sad for a moment. I think he must've known."

He was confused. Beth looked him in the eyes through her goggles, "That we protect each other. That you fight for me and I fight for you. I felt so victorious when I was able to take my goggles back from me and solidify my place on the team… the. I found out he had gotten to my Rick…"

His heart jumped in his chest and he stared at her. He reached for her goggles but she shook her head and he withdrew his hands. "It wasn't anything to do with you."

"No, but had I been there…"

"Then you could have gotten hurt or had to see me become the very kind of monster that I hate!"

She furrowed her eyebrows and she grabbed his hand, harder than she meant to, but that demanded his attention and he stared at her face, "If I had been there, you would've had the extra strength you needed to see through him. I wouldn't have let you fight. Please believe me when I say that I'm sure I could have talked some sense into you. I could have saved you from thinking that you're a monster. Because you aren't a monster, Rick. You're a kid who was in a situation that most of us can't fathom, and when you needed me, I wasn't there." He started crying and shook his head. "I'll understand if you want to stay with Mr. Dugan instead…"

"No. No.."He had told Grundy that day that he just needed someone to care about him, to be kind to him, and he could be alright. Rick was so caught up in the stress of his uncle, he hadn't thought about how he did have someone like that. He had his friends, the Dugans, and he had Beth. She had done all of this, because she felt like she'd failed him. Like she was supposed to protect him. She wasn't obligated to do that, but the fact that she wanted to, that she tried to.

Hell, she was even correct about being able to talk him down. He didn't know if she could have that night, but as much as she meant to him… he couldn't rule out that what if. He collected her hand to his heart and said extremely softly, "I choose you."

@futurewriterwannebe

#beth chapel #hournite #rick tyler #futurewriterwannabe #prompts #nesha prompts #I Choose You #hournite prompts #nesha hournite fics #hournite fics #fics

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uwua3 · 3 years

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drivers license.

🍁📸 fushimi omi

summary: omi receives his license and goes to the cemetery to celebrate

warnings: angst, anxiety, arguments, car crashes, driving, family trauma/issues, grieving/mourning, major character death/parental death

author’s note: if you are going through the loss of a loved one, please remember you will always have people in this world who support and love you endlessly ♡ you are not alone and you will make it through. i believe in you with all my heart—i cannot tell you it’s okay, but i can tell you it’ll get better. please keep trying, it’ll be worth it. i hope you wake up tomorrow with a lighter heart, i love you

this is not romantic! this is a headcanon i have of omi’s family history as he only lives with his father and two brothers (ＴｗＴ。) thank you!!!

word count: 2,619

music: drivers license – olivia rodrigo

I GOT MY DRIVER’S LICENSE LAST WEEK

JUST LIKE WE ALWAYS TALKED ABOUT

‘CAUSE YOU WERE SO EXCITED FOR ME

TO FINALLY DRIVE UP TO YOUR HOUSE

Omi was the first person to pass his driver’s license test in his family.

His father wasn’t getting any younger, so his hands were hesitant and shaky every time they hovered over the stick shift. The buttons out of the corners of his eyes were much too confusing for his old brain so Omi’s father insisted on walking everywhere. As he grew older, the Fushimi household reached a compromise of taking public transport during the weekdays.

Omi’s two younger brothers weren’t old enough. They were still in their early preteen years, so getting behind the wheel wasn’t a legal option. As the oldest son, Omi took it upon himself to get into a four-wheeler and figure out all the tricky mechanics for himself. Hours and hours passed borrowing his friend’s vehicle, spinning around in circles in abandoned parking lots, and studying road laws.

When Omi learned all by himself and paid for it with his own money, his father clapped his shoulder with his usual proud smile and congratulated him.

The leather beneath his father’s wrinkled hands suddenly felt like skin, as if he could see right through him. When Omi took a moment to take a deep breath in, he closed his eyes and could almost see a younger version of his father. A father that wouldn’t be so close to retirement, that wasn’t so fragile and slow.

What did his father see? Could he see Omi was still the little boy sitting in the backseat all those years ago?

“That’s my boy! You’re just like your—” Omi didn’t want to hear the rest of the sentence, so he hurried upstairs and left his father alone in the corridor. Sometimes, he regrets it. But, most times, Omi’s glad he didn’t stay.

Whenever Omi got into a car after that, he sometimes still heard it in his head.

Omi knew he was like his mother.

BUT TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

CRYING ‘CAUSE YOU WEREN’T AROUND

YEAH, TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

‘CAUSE HOW COULD I EVER LOVE SOMEONE ELSE?

The first thing Omi did after receiving his license was visit his mother.

The car wasn’t preferable by any means, but it did its job. The seat creaked every time Omi had to adjust it, the air freshner didn’t make anything better, and there was no possibility that the air conditioning worked. But, the windows rolled down all the way, the wheels rarely ran out of air, and the car door only jammed sometimes. At the red light, Omi shifted and heard the crease of his jacket.

Omi didn’t know why he still wore it. Those days were long past him now, but the aged material made this whole experience a little easier. Before Omi could let himself reminicse, the light turned green and Omi automatically pushed forward.

Check the rear-view mirror. Two hands on the wheels at all time. Eyes on the road. Pay attention to stop signs. Be aware of everything around you. Omi repeated this again and again until the GPS on his phone announced he reached his location. Parking carefully, Omi let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding until everything stopped moving.

Picking up the small bouquet of flowers on the passenger’s seat, Omi locked his car and nodded at the security guard at the gates.

“Hi, Ma.” Omi said, pausing at a worn-down grave with the same flowers as last time.

“I got my driver’s license last week.”

AND I KNOW WE WEREN’T PERFECT

BUT I’VE NEVER FELT THIS WAY FOR ANYONE

AND I JUST CAN’T IMAGINE

HOW COULD YOU BE SO OKAY NOW THAT I’M GONE?

Omi sat besides her, leaning his head upon the cold grey stone. Like her tombstone, she was always strong, resilient, and offered a shoulder to cry on. Omi shuddered and wrapped an arm around the grave, as if she was still here.

“I did it.” Omi breathed and closed his eyes shut, hearing the distant rumbling of a thunderstorm. Even though Omi knew he should’ve left to get ahead of the rain, his legs were too weak. He couldn’t move without feeling like he was going to crash and burn.

“Ma... it was so hard.” Omi finally admitted to himself, squeezing the plastic of the bouquet in his hands and distracting himself with the crinkle. “Every time I sat in the driver’s side, I thought of you. I was... I’m so scared.”

Silence, before a clap of thunder. Omi flinched, hiding his face in the grey. “You were such a good driver, you followed every single rule. You should’ve been the one to teach me...”

Omi hated this feeling, like he was selfish for wanting his mother to be here with him. But, he knew he was right. Omi shouldn’t have had to suffer through panic attacks by himself. Make close calls with no one by his side. Balance school, work, family, and driving every single day. Omi could feel the exhaustion in his bones, as if he was the one who was dead.

“Pa couldn’t. Ever since...” Omi didn’t dare relive the tragedy. All he could bear was the inhumane screams, shattering glass, and alarms of the ambulance from miles away before snapping back to reality. “... the accident, he’s been so, so sad.”

It was an under-statement to say the Fushimi boys were struggling. Losing a parent didn’t hurt just emotionally, but financially as well. As Omi’s father picked up more shifts, more and more of that money went to medical bills that should’ve been years down the line.

“Your boys miss you so much. I miss you, so much. You would’ve been so proud... just like Pa. He said—” Omi’s voice cracked and he hated himself for it. Pulling the jacket tighter, Omi winced as the sudden gust of wind chilled his spine. The leaves rustled unceremoniously and Omi wished he could fly away, too.

“I’m just like you, Ma.” Placing the small flowers at the base of her grave, Omi read the faded engraving upon the surface until his vision was clearer.

Omi moved onto the next grave without a goodbye, because he’s had too many of those in this lifetime.

GUESS YOU DIDN’T MEAN WHAT YOU WROTE IN THAT SONG ABOUT ME

‘CAUSE YOU SAID FOREVER, NOW I DRIVE ALONE PAST YOUR STREET

After visiting his mother and Nachi, Omi returned to his car. It looked nothing like the car he almost died in. Back then, that car was big enough to hold a family of five snugly. Now, Omi’s car didn’t need all that room. His father would never get back into a car ever again, and his brothers could just sit in the back.

Resting his hand upon the car door, Omi didn’t have the heart to open it. Going inside meant driving home; driving home meant seeing his father flinch whenever the car pulled into the driveway. Driving home meant preparing dinner, making sure the boys did their homework, giving Pa his proper medications, doing homework, and barely sleeping. Going home meant being mom.

As the rain began to pour, Omi didn’t move. Soaked and unable to distinguish if he was crying or just stupid, Omi hung his head and let the water run over him. Was this his Ma’s way of crying for him? Omi didn’t want to know.

Omi finally yanked open the car door when a pair of glowing headlights passed by him. He nearly missed the splash of a puddle by his feet as Omi started the engine. Something was wrong. The usual ignition wasn’t audible and the lights barely illuminated the darkening path. Omi sat in the driver’s side with frustration that’s been growing ever since the car accident.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me!” Omi swore, kicking the floor uselessly as he lifted his fist to hit the surface. Before he could slam his hand down, Omi sighed and simply hit the dashboard lightly at the last second. He had spent far too much money only to pay for repairs later on.

Omi pulled out his phone and checked, only to see no bars and no signal. Omi was cold, shivering, and crying in a cemetery and he had never felt more alone.

AND ALL MY FRIENDS ARE TIRED

OF HEARING HOW MUCH I MISS YOU, BUT

I KINDA FEEL SORRY FOR THEM

‘CAUSE THEY’LL NEVER KNOW YOU THE WAY I DO

Omi bought his first car after saving for months.

He honestly didn’t have to. Leaving behind the delinquent life meant making good friends. Friends that didn’t start fights, disobey the law, or be at risk of being put behind bars. Therefore, Omi had a friend that was willing to just give him a car.

“Come on, this is our gift to you. You don’t have to worry about this!” Omi’s friends insisted, trying to push the keys into Omi’s tight fists. No matter how much pressure was put upon him, Omi never faltered, just like stone.

“I’m sorry, but I... can’t take this.” Omi guiltily rejected the brand-new car. It was a model only rich people drove, the same exact demographic his friend was apart of. It was freshly washed with the proper tags and everything. Omi could’ve just taken it and saved thousands of dollars.

Except, he couldn’t. The car by no means was a vehicle he sat in before. But, the white color was the same. If Omi wasn’t paying attention, maybe he could ignore it. Yet every time he saw the exterior, it brought him back to that rainy day, desparately fumbling to rip off his seatbelt and wake his mother up.

“Omi... you can’t afford to say no...” They sympathetically tried to reason with him, but Omi was far gone. He backed up, nearly tripping with how hurriedly he stepped on his own heels. If he blinked, he could see the new car wrecked. If he didn’t focus, he could hear the sickening sound of the brakes failing.

“Omi, it’s been years since she—”

If he let himself get consumed by the past, he’d surely die.

“Thank you for this, but I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Omi bought a car a week later and when his father asked about price, Omi lied through his teeth.

“My friends saved up and bought me one for my birthday. Don’t worry, Pa. We can make the bills.”

Even when his friends sold it and tried to give him the money, Omi didn’t take it. His mother didn’t raise her son to take money from anyone.

Like mother, like son.

TODAY I DROVE THROUGH THE SUBURBS

AND PICTURED I WAS DRIVING HOME TO YOU

Omi left the windshield wipers on, watching as the rain drops got caught in the way. The heating wasn’t functioning, so Omi huddled in on himself and waited for some sort of sign that he could make it home tonight. The radio crackled every now and then, making Omi jump every time a voice spoke a word before getting cut off.

The world continued on as Omi lived through another rainy dark sky. Omi remembered staring up at this type of sky, his back laid out on a stretcher and hand reaching for the closest family member. Omi mentally punched himself, finding that he was getting caught up in his own trauma much more often than usual. Ever since driving lessons.

When it got too much to handle, the assignments, the expectations, the pressure, Omi indulged in make-believe. Omi imagined an universe where he was driving home to be welcomed by the warm embrace of his mother. Where his father was standing taller, where his brothers left their rooms on their own accord, where he wasn’t the backbone of the household anymore. It didn’t do him any good to hope for something impossible, but Omi did so anyways sometimes.

Perhaps it was his punishment for not being the one who died that night.

As Omi swiped mindlessly through his phone, willing for a bar, a crack of lightning made his skin crawl. Yet, beneath the pounding rain, a single yell of shock alerted Omi to look up from his screen. A deep sense of familarity forced Omi to look past his window, hoping to see past the blurriness of it all.

At the sight of a dark frame, Omi didn’t think twice before hurdling him outside, barely able to close his door before stripping his jacket and throwing it around the man. The shivering man weakly holding onto an umbrella that did nothing but cause more problems.

“Pa?! What are you doing here?”

RED LIGHTS, STOP SIGNS

I STILL SEE YOUR FACE IN WHITE CARS, FRONT YARDS

CAN’T DRIVE PAST THE PLACES WE USED TO GO TO

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“Son!” Omi’s father happily greeted despite being on the verge of catching a cold. Omi held the umbrella over his father’s head, taking the brunt of the cold willingly.

“I took the bus here. I knew you’d be visiting her today, but it was quite late.” He explained, wearing a newsboy cap that he must’ve had since youth. The sight of his father with a runny nose and wet clothes at his expense set something off in Omi.

“Why did you come?”

“To bring you home—”

“What would’ve happened if you died?”

The sound of rain was defeaning. Omi’s father stopped, staring at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. Omi’s arm started shaking, his grip on the umbrella’s handle was slacking. The truth weighed upon his shoulders, like he was about to collapse.

What if the bus had crashed? What if something happened to Pa while walking to the cemetery? What if it was Omi’s fault? Before Omi could apologize, he felt a pair of arms wrap around his shoulders.

Omi dropped the umbrella.

SIDEWALKS WE CROSSED

I STILL HEAR YOUR VOICE IN THE TRAFFIC, WE’RE LAUGHING OVER ALL THE NOISE

GOD, I’M SO BLUE, KNOW WE’RE THROUGH

Omi couldn’t die.

Not when he raised his weak father that wasn’t getting any younger. He had to take care of his two younger brothers. Omi had to finish university, graduate, and be hired at a high-paying job to support his family. Fushimi Omi couldn’t die.

But, here he was, breaking.

“My boy, I’m not going anywhere.” Omi’s father said it so surely, like it was a promise he could control. Omi hesitated before resting his chin on his father’s shoulder, closing his eyes and inhaling the scent of cologne. It was the brand his mother used to love, but he knew his father hated this one. It was so fitting, Omi refrained from crying.

“You’re so strong, I’m so proud of you.” Omi nodded, hugging his father with unsaid words he’d never be able to speak. Omi could never tell him his greatest fear was Pa dying. Could never admit that seeing his father react a second late makes him pace. Could never reveal he only went to university close-by in case an emergency occurred. Everything Omi did was for his father, his Pa, his only parent.

“She’d be so proud of who you are today. You are her son.” Omi’s father patted him once, twice, then pulled back. He rested his aged palm upon Omi’s cheek gently, just like his mother used to. His thumb ran over his scar with no judgment, just fatherly love.

Omi had never felt more loved.

‘CAUSE I STILL FUCKING YOU LOVE YOU, BABY

“You’re just like your mother, Omi.”

#fushimi omi #omi fushimi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! one shots #act! addict! actors! one shots #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! omi #a3 omi

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silv3rswirls · 3 years

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This update post contains mentions of verbal abuse, threats to one’s life, depression, anxiety, and panic attacks.

Hello everyone, a few days ago I made a post about how I was going to be taking a break from writing. While I’m still going to remain on break, something life-changing has happened? I’m conflicted over what has happened. To vaguely explain (and vent a lot) we’ll be getting pretty personal. Please pay attention to the trigger warnings I’ve left at the start.

I live and was legally adopted by my aunt ten years ago when my parents lost custody of me. Life was okay, sad, but I liked living with my aunt and connecting with a new part of my family I had never known. My aunt has a son of her own, currently in his late-thirties, but at the time he was in prison. I won’t get into why, as I want to keep these details of my life as vague as I can. He got out of prison and came to live with us. My aunt insisted he was a nice guy and at first, he was, but after a few months things began to change. It was clear my cousin hated my bother and me and saw us as “replacement kids.” He hated that we had anything or when my aunt spent money on us, he even felt entitled to our adoption subsidies because he gave my aunt a good word in the adoption process. He began to threaten to call CPS and get us taken away. Looking back now the threats were trash, as there was no reason we would be taken away. But as a child who had just lost her parents and whole life, it took a toll on my already poor mental health.

Over the past, five to six years things only got worse. He’s been flopping on our sofa this whole time. He’s gone back to jail twice, but my aunt always lets him back because that’s her real son. I understand, but all he’s done is make life hell. He never cleans up after himself and lives here for free. He’s broken windows and thrown furniture, kept us up all night screaming and yelling. He’s threatened to burn the house down and to stab/kill us in our sleep. It’s embarrassing to admit how many times I’ve curled under my bed sobbing my way through a panic attack. Instances like these remind me of the traumatic memories of living with my parents before this new life. I’ve lived with a lot of anxiety and fear and often am too scared to leave my room for anything. Despite how bad I wanted to leave I never wanted to leave my younger brother here and I never felt financially safe enough to get my own place, I’m barely twenty and just aren’t ready. So I’ve toughed it out.

Within the past few days, my aunt has finally kicked him out. The house is quiet right now and I feel so relieved. This doesn’t guarantee anything. He will most definitely come back and harass us and my aunt will never put him in jail. I’m too scared of the consequences to call myself. I do feel this is a permanent change though and hopefully, it is. I’ve been threatened and talked down to for almost six years and I just want to be okay again. I’m sure I’ll still have deep anxieties and worries over this situation, and my nightmares will likely still come and go.

I started this blog a few days after my cousin was released from jail and came back to us and it’s done nothing but bring me tremendous amounts of comfort and joy. I love writing, it’s the only thing that gets me through hard times. BTS has also given me so much comfort through all of this. They make me believe things will be okay and make me genuinely happy when I’m at my lowest.

I feel like my emotions have been very split the past few days. Between this family stuff and the excitement over permission to dance, it’s been an exhausting rollercoaster.

I love them and I love writing on this blog, so I can’t wait to get back to it. I’m going to take a few more weeks to myself and see how I feel. I’m still going to be very active on here, though. Sorry for such a heavy post guys; I just needed to get it out.

#life update #please dont read if it could trigger you #vent post

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shintorikhazumi · 3 years

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I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 1: Three Sisters and The Bastard Father (An LWAxRWBYxStarira Crossover)

A/N: What’s crazier than me writing a crossover I can’t get out of my head at 2am while still having multiple wips?

Writing a three-way crossover until 3am!!! (Ended at nearly 5am tho)

GAHHHHH.

Btw, this is a non-magic au. So Diana has no magic, and Weiss has no… semblance. Yes. Because the world of RWBY always goes “???!! OHMG, magic?!” Quite ironically. They become impressed at people turning into birds, but never flinch at Ruby who can separate herself on a molecular level. Sure.

I’ll be updating this sporadically, tbh. The updates will be as random as the coming of this idea. I do like it a lot, so I look forward to working on it. Just have to prioritize the wips.

[DO CHECK OUT THE END NOTES FOR SOME OF THE AU DETAILS AND BACKGROUND]

Still, I couldn’t let the concept pass me by so…

Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

I Have Two Sisters?! Chapter 1: Three Sisters and The Bastard Father

The wind blew strong outside, rain water cold against her bleeding cheek. The numbness was her only relief from pain nowadays. She’d lost count of how many bruises she’d gotten this week. If only her mother hadn’t passed… If only she hadn’t had a bastard of a father.

Then maybe Diana’s life would have been much better than the shell that it now was.

He left her and her mother just as she turned three, the only support she got in the form of random gifts and her financial needs. Her father was nothing of a father. The man that… helped make her was never there. He never showed he cared. Everything he gave her felt obligatory. She hated it. Heck, she didn’t even know his last name, much less remember what he looked like. She did try looking it up at some point, but it seemed as if he was some kind of bigshot she couldn’t name.

Neither her mom nor her aunt had divulged his identity, so she had long since drew a blank to the man’s identity. All she knew was that his name was ‘Jack’ or something of the sort. She had long since adopted her mother’s as it didn’t feel right to take the name of a man she never knew.

All she knew was that he was the cause of all her sorrows. That wretched man had left her and her mother to fend for themselves. Even though her mom was of a strong, well-known medical lineage here in Britain, the fact that she had gotten pregnant out of wedlock labelled her as a shame to the Cavendish name, and she had been cast out to a vacation home in the outskirts of the foreign country, Japan.

After her death, however, the women who Diana now saw as practically witches with how cruel and evil they were decided that because their blood ran through her, took over their small land that she and her mother had cried blood and tears to call their own, and exploited the underage girl, believing she might be of some use as a pawn at the very least, for the sake of the Cavendish name.

And she was. For some time, until she had injured her arm, and was no longer capable of becoming the kind of doctor they wanted her to be, her hand slowly losing its immaculate dexterity, becoming constantly shaky, rendering her as only half the worth she originally was, and thus completely useless besides being their punching bag. Quite literally.

Diana Cavendish found herself spending the better part of her life being abused, and hiding in tool sheds, and escaping her dreaded household at every waking moment, just as she was doing right now.

She hardly believed in any religion, but she found herself always praying to get away from this hellish nightmare. She’d hope that even if she only had a jerk of a father, he’d soon realize that she was his flesh and blood that needed saving.

A hard knock came on the wood of her shed’s door. She flinched, no sound escaping. Had they found her?!

“Miss Cavendish? Miss Diana Cavendish? Are you in here?” An unfamiliar voice called for her, bold and confident sounding, but with kindness and worry interlaced. She felt like it was someone she should respond to. The situation felt like it was some kind of divine calling she should answer.

With legs shaking, she stood up, unlatching the bar that held the door closed and stepping out into the now late night that reeked of hot pavement, rain having stopped while she was lost in thought.

A police officer, clad in uniform and raincoat smiled at her in pity. She was both grateful for- and hated- that gaze. She wished it had come sooner, but at the same time, she disliked being thought of as sad and pathetic.

“Your aunt and her family have been arrested, Miss.” Her ears perked up at the voice and the message they conveyed. Looking up from the ground, she stared into the truthful eyes of the cop. “You’re safe now.”

And she truly hoped she was.

//-//-//-//-//

“Weiss.”

At the mention of her name from that familiar voice, she rolled her eyes internally, holding in the urge to snap at the man she called ‘father’.

“What.”

Maybe her control wasn’t as good as she thought.

“Don’t give me that tone. I know you hate me, but I am still the one that raised you!”

“You mean, you’re the one that paid for me.” The ex-heiress pointed out. Her father gritted his teeth, frown deepening as he stepped forward in an attempt to exert his dominance.

Weiss only raised a brow in challenge.

“Anyway.” Jacques continued. Weiss would have smirked as he neither acknowledged nor denied her statement, but she felt it wasn’t the best time. “You are yet to turn twenty, and as you aren’t considered an adult yet-“

“But I’m nineteen, father.” Weiss stated, confused, her raised brow now raised in question. “I’m of legal age, to drink even.”

“Not in Japan you aren’t.” He replied with a smirk so evil, Weiss would have loved to slap it right off if her mind wasn’t thrown in a state of emergency, dreading whatever plans her father had. Even if she wanted to do as she pleased, she couldn’t completely go against him as she was at the moment. Their family name was too widespread and known in the business world, and she feared the consequences of running away from her father who currently had her safety- and practically her life- in the palm of his hand.

“What are you planning.” She narrowed her eyes at him, fearing for the worst, but expertly masking that fear.

“I’ll be sending you away, just as you’ve always wanted. I’ve prepared you an apartment close to a school of my choice to pursue the arts as you so strongly desired,” He spoke in a mocking tone. “And I’ll let you have your way there.” He ended with a smile that sent chills down Weiss’ spine. It sounded too good to be true, her dream being accepted like this. It was like a carrot on a stick being waved in front of her, only to always be out of reach.

“What’s the catch?”

“Catch? My, Weiss, my child, are you questioning your father’s benevolent heart?”

“What’s there to question?” Weiss shot back. “You don’t have one, now do you?”

She grinned at her little victory as she watched him gnashing his teeth, clearly seething in anger. Her smile dropped however as he gave her his own.

“I mentioned Japan’s legal age before.”

And Weiss already knew what he meant.

//-//-//-//-//

Life in Seishou had been the dream. Her first two years of high school were the peak of her life, she’d proudly say. She had wonderful friends and comrades who battled side-by-side, pushing one another to greater heights, and… she had someone she adored just a little more than friendship allowed. She had never admitted it, though. Then, a school back in Paris, the place where her mother had blossomed as an actress in the past, offered her a scholarship as an exchange student there.

And like she always did, Claudine excelled. So much so that multiple colleges offered her full rides to attend their institutions. Even highly prestigious universities. Her opportunities were broad, her future looking bright-

-And then news came. Her mother had fallen terminally ill.

She had to go back. She had to see her. She had to be by her side as long as possible.

She had to repay her for the love, for the dream she had given Claudine. She had to be the family her mother had been for her in the absence of a biological father she never knew, and the loss of her adoptive Japanese father at an early age. The lack of a male figure in their family was no cripple to Claudine, but she also missed the presence of the man she knew as her papa. She knew her maman missed him too.

So she had to do this for her mother.

She had to… in the event that… she’d lose her soon as well.

God forbid, Claudine prayed.

She had to return to Japan, study and… get a job, find some way to help her mother pay the increasingly expensive hospital bills, their little family’s saved money steadily disappearing.

She wondered if she should just drop school all together and apply for a troupe. Earn both money and experience.

She had enough rapport both in Japan and France. She could probably get enough opportunities, and she would succeed like she always had…

But…

There was something she wanted to see through, going into university.

When she left for Paris, she had gradually lost contact with all her friends, the culture slowly choking her time, eventually disconnecting them from her.

She’d receive and return the occasional message, but… things were different. She knew she’d drifted apart from everyone.

So, when she found out that they would all be attending the same Arts Institute, and when she had decided to return to Japan for her mother’s sake, she believed it wouldn’t all be that bad if she could apply for a scholarship to the same place, and possibly rebuild everything that was slowly crumbling away.

She wanted to be with everyone again.

And though she believed herself capable of attaining what she wanted on her own, she might require a little assistance from a miracle.

…

And a miracle- could she call this monstrosity of a situation that?- came in the form of a letter that had documents that signified she was the daughter of some ‘Jacques Schnee’ currently undergoing some sort of trial, and because of this, some of the accusations led to the revelation that he was neglecting a daughter, not sending support, and now as some form of bribery and compensation or whatever, he had paid the court to shut up about it if he took responsibility for her now.

Claudine scoffed in disbelief and utter disgust.

So this was her damned biological father? Some apparently bigtime tycoon who slept around and left a woman to fight for herself while carrying his- Claudine would suppose she was now an- illegitimate child.

This… was certainly news she’d never have expected in a million years.

She laughed mirthlessly at it all.

Well, at least her financial crisis had been averted. For better or for worse… she hoped it wasn’t the latter.

One upside was that she now had a clear ticket to that university she wanted to get into, it seemed. Her ‘father’ had taken the liberty of enrolling her there coincidentally. At least he could do something right, Claudine guessed.

“Well… I suppose it’s time to pack.” She sighed falling back onto her current apartment bed, staring at the ceiling.

It wasn’t so bad, maybe. Her newfound reality.

“Japan, I’m coming home to you.”

//-//-//-//-//

Diana glared at the letter in her hand angrily. There, in neat script, she saw the name of the man who had caused all her misfortune.

‘Jacques Schnee.’

“I want to hate you for as long as I live…” She gripped the paper so hard, creases were forming and the agent currently assigned to her worried she’d rip it into shreds. “What is this garbage? And why am I… Why can’t I… refuse… this ugly form salvation…” She choked on her sobs, a hand sympathetically rubbing her back.

“Let’s get you ready, Miss.”

Diana nodded in agreement.

-----

All her bags now in her hand after being dropped off by the cab driver, she stared in awe at the slightly modest, but clearly high-end house.

What the hell, did her dad just get her a house?!

Regardless of its size, couldn’t he have… like… gotten her an apartment or condo, at least?

How rich was this asshole father of hers? Was money the only good thing about him? Not that even that was necessarily a good thing.

With a groaning sigh, she unlatched the gate, walking up the little pathway. There were small flowerbeds already present around the yard, and decorations were tastefully placed.

It at least looked the part of cozy.

Once she got to the door, however, angry sounds coming from inside made her question that.

-Wait. This was her house, right?

Why would sounds be…

In a panic, she unlocked the front door with the key that came with the letter, bursting through it like a mad man, blue eyes flickering about the room, shocked to see two pairs of eyes, wide and intense, staring back at her with equal surprise.

“Who…”

“Oh, this is just great!!!” One with hair as white as snow exclaimed, throwing her hands up in the air in clear exasperation. “Now we have another one!” She began marching around the room, palms rubbing her face aggressively and scratching through her hair. “That little fuck-“

“-Language.”

“Shut up! I don’t even know who you are, and why you were in my house when I arrived. And you say you aren’t a burglar or whatever, but what is up with your sword play? Even if you were using the curtain pole. Are you some kind of spy or assassin the corporation has sent to finally get rid of me?”

“First of all, this is my house, not yours. And you came at me with a rapier!” A silver-gold blonde replied in equal stress. “You could have killed me!”

“I would never!” The first girl gasped with faux emotion. “At most, you’d lose an ear.”

“Umm…” Diana remained awkwardly fidgeting at the door, her usual bravery and confidence lost in the moment of shock.

“What.”

“I- I am simply here because… apparently my father purchased this place for me.”

Two pairs of eyes blinked once. Twice.

Then realization overtook them.

“Did you just say… father?” The golden-haired one stepped closer to her, a lot less hostile, but still aggressive looking.

“I- Um… yes?”

“Father… you say.” The lady with a rapier in her hand now approached Diana too.

These women were frightening, dear Lord. Diana slowly backed up, but stopped as her foot hit the bags she’d dropped in her frantic moments earlier.

“Can you tell me the name of this… ‘father’ of yours?” Rapier lady asked Diana who was beginning to wonder if she should look for a weapon to defend herself with.

“S-sure. His n-name is…”

“…”

“Is?”

“Fuck.”

Diana was not one to curse, but it surprised her that she did.

But she couldn’t help it, now could she? After all, her mind had been wiped clean as a white slate. A mental block was not what she needed right now, but just about anything involving that man seemed to bring about her misfortune.

At least the hands by which she’d die her early death were from very beautiful women it seemed.

She liked women, at least?

“Excuse me, um… are you alright?” Miss Golden hair was now very safe-looking and welcoming, Diana subconsciously stepped closer towards her.

“What is up with you? I just asked a question.”

“Perhaps, if you placed the sword down, and looked less like you were trying to murder her and look like you were willing to hear her out…”

Diana expected another heated retaliation, so it was a pleasant surprise to see the other woman sheath her weapon, and place it gently on a plastic-covered couch, clearly brand new.

“There. Happy?” She asked, glaring at the woman now gently holding Diana’s hand- and when had that happened?!

With a nod, the girl turned to Diana and asked again. “What is your father’s name. If you could tell us.”

Huh. She was a lot kinder than Diana had initially taken her for.

“I apologize. I can’t… remember at the moment. I- He hasn’t been around… for me until this point. I just… learned his name a few days ago but…” She hung her head in defeat, apologizing all the while. “Sorry I’m of no assistance to you…”

“No, it’s alright. Isn’t it?” The question was clearly not directed at her as she could only hear a grunt from the other side of the room.

“Yeah, fine.”

“Would your father’s name happen to be Jacques?”

At this, Diana lifted her head, another shocker delivered to her, hearing the familiar name, the cogs in her head clicking into place.

“Yes! Yes, that’s it! Jack, or Jacques or whatever. Snee? Shuni? Schee? I don’t quite remember, but something along those lines.” Diana found herself enthusiastic towards the prospect that some of her questions might be answered.

It seemed the other two shared the same sentiment.

“It’s Schnee.” The white-haired lady corrected, eyes furrowing, anger building up once more. “And… THAT BASTARD OLD MAN!” Grabbing her rapier she swung it around, probably to vent her anger. “He set me up! And what’s more…” She whipped her head about to carefully look the other two people over.

“What is it?” Diana said in a voice quite small.

“Seems he had big secrets to hide.” She sighed. Turning to the initial enemy she had, now turned… stranger? She wasn’t sure they were allies at this point, she stated rather than asked. “I guess it’s the same for you?”

The woman beside Diana nodded, expression looking a lot stiffer than her gentle demeanor as she dealt with Diana earlier.

“I see. I can’t believe this situation.”

“What do you me-“

A voice beside Diana delivered her fourth? Fifth? Sixth?- she’d lost count- Shocker of the day.

“Sisters. It seems we’re… sisters.” Turning to Diana, she held out a hand for a shake. “I’m Claudine.”

“I’m Weiss.” Was the grumble from the couch the woman had flopped on top of.

“…O-oh!” Breaking her stare from the hand, she looked into rose-red eyes. “And I’m-“

And the world suddenly turned black.

‘Hello, My Name is…

[Diana Cavendish]

[Weiss Schnee]

[Saijou Claudine]

-And it seems as though…

I have two sisters?!

A/N: If you’re asking, yes. Yes, Diana fainted.

Here are some details for this AU btw:

I’ve decided to make Jacques a half-Jap, half german.

So all of them have a quarter of that blood.

Diana is half brit, quarter jap, quarter german

Weiss is ¾ german because of her mom, and ¼ jap.

Claudine is half French, ¼ german, ¼ jap.

Also, if you want to know their ages, and their order, I decided it this way, and let me just quote how I typed it out in the raw idea draft.

“Diana April 30 16yro in anime 2017+3yrs (2020) she's 19 too omg jahahahaha (wrote this coz I’m currently 19 and was amused)

Clau august 1, 2001 19 at present

Weiss Currently 19 (in volumes 5-6) may 15th lmao hahsha. Perfect!!

Wtf Diana was the oldest? Hooo boi. I did expect and want Kuro to be youngest tho, tbh.”

Why their ages are pretty much the same will be mentioned next chap.

And that’s how it went. Decided with Weiss being the legitimate child coz Jacques was the only canonically mentioned dad between the three girls as far as I know. Or I just didn’t search enough.

But come on. I wouldn’t pass at the chance to beat up the dude in a fic so… hihi.

Feedback is super appreciated!

Thank you for reading!

~Shintori Khazumi

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docholligay · 4 years

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Chinese Food in The American West

One of the things I frequently come across as a student of the American West* is that people get most of their information from movies and TV and then act like they know things. Wyatt Earp was not a Lawful Good champion who always did his level best even when it was hard to know. (You want Seth Bullock or Bass Reeves). Racism was far more complicated than white vs not white (I’ve talked about this EXTENSIVELY in Strange Empire, so I’m not going to bore you here**).

And they didn’t just eat steak. In fact, they rarely ate steak.

Steak as cowboy food isn’t INACCURATE, but it is MODERN. From about the early 1900s on, you had less and less drives and more and more ranchers who were staying put, with less and less hands needed, and so food was grabbed less “on the go.” Cows could be slaughtered and used to feed the family, allowing for more opportunities for things like steak, yes, but also things like chili, a play on sauerbraten, southern-style biscuits. The cattle drives were a real blend of culture and race, and a lot of what we have left as “Western food” owes a great deal to that.

And if we leave the cattle drives and head into the towns of the American West, as we will today, we find things like oysters, pies, and various things like that. Far more well-heeled than the general expectation.

I mean, here’s the menu from the Occidental Saloon circa the late 1880s:

Soups

Chicken Giblet and Consumme, with Egg

Fish

Columbia River Salmon, au Beurre Noir

Relieves

Filet a Boeuf, a la Financier

Leg of Lamb, Sauce, Oysters

Cold Meats

Loin of Beef, Loin of Ham, Loin of Pork, Westphalia Ham, Corned Beef, Imported Lunches

Boiled Meats

Leg of Mutton, Ribs of Beef, Corned Beef and Cabbage, Russian River Bacon

Entrees

Pinons a Poulett, aux Champignons

Cream Fricasse of Chicken, Asparagus Points

Lapine Domestique, a la Matire d'Hote

Casserole d'Ritz aux Oeufs, a la Chinoise

Ducks of Mutton, Braze, with Chipoluta Ragout

California Fresh Peach, a la Conde

Roasts

Loin of Beef, Loin of Mutton, Leg of Pork

Apple Sauce, Suckling Pig, with Jelly, Chicken Stuffed Veal

Pastry

Peach, Apple, Plum, and Custard Pies

English Plum Pudding, Hard Sauce, Lemon Flavor

This dinner will be served for 50 cents.

-I got this from the book “Saloons of the Old West” by Erdoes

But none of that is precisely why I’m here, I just can’t stop myself from talking about this, why I’m here is that one of the things I say that often surprises people, is that Chinese food was incredibly common for the, well, common man to eat. There’s very much a conception that we as a non-Chinese American people did not start eating Chinese food until the 40s and 50s, and its truer that it took longer to catch on in the American East than the West simply as a matter of proximity and choice.

Not MORE choice but LESS. Part of what made the West so unique, historically, is that the lack of choice and the basic scarcity caused people to work with and patronize people that their general prejudices would have kept them from using back east, because they had CHOICES. But out in the west, less so. There were few choices for a quick, cheap meal on the go. That dinner I just posted above is a lavish affair, and a great deal at approximately $20.00 in today’s money. (Which does not allow for the fact that cost of supplies has gone up and this dinner would most likely be offered for no less than 70 or so today.)

People desperately wanted something that was cheap and quick, and the other options in the American West were few, far between, and not intensely pleasing. No one had really come up with the sandwich shop as of yet, and in any case, fresh meats and cheeses would have been too difficult for the low-cost supplier.

ENTER THE CHINESE POPULATION.

If you have read my Strange Empire blogs, I hope you know that Chinese people were a huge presence in the American West, mostly working for the railroad and various mines, but also doing things like laundry, work that was extremely hard but took little in the way of English speaking. They existed in Chinatowns, for a combination of cultural and legal factors, but it’s a misconception that non-Chinese*** people never went to Chinatown.

People are not new, and it was not unusual for non-Chinese people to use the laundries, tailoring, and other services of Chinatowns while suppressing the rights of Chinese people int he same breath. There were always individual Chinese people any given non-Chinese person liked and did business with.

In time, they discovered the inherent wisdom of the noodle bowl.

I don’t mean to suggest that all these early restaurants served was noodle bowls, but that was where it all started. Remember, Italian food had little prominence in America at the this time, as Italian immigration didn’t really get into full swing until the 1870s in America. While there are noodle traditions half of everywhere, and there is nothing new under the sun, what we today would consider a stir-fry bowl was wildly new to most of the non-Chinese folks in the West. That it could be offered up so cheaply, was so filling, and so delicious (more on this later) was a wild revelation. Everyone from simple cowboys (which, fun fact! Was a slur back then!) to mayors were swinging by Chinatowns to try the dishes.

By the 1920s, chop suey, a fully Chinese American invention derived from the words for “various leftovers” was a hugely popular American food among all sorts.

Doc, you may ask, was it just that these folks coming through to get medicines or laundry were SO adventurous? Not at all! Chinese restaurants back then actually, in a very short amount of time, realized that their non-Chinese townsfolk were an excellent way to make money as well, and began to adapt and change dishes to better fit the Western palate, leading what we call American Chinese Food today, which is a legitimate foodway I will defend to my death. Unfortunately, none of these menus survive today--the only ones we have are from places in San Francisco, places that were much more posh, and not the subject of this essay.

There is a scene in Tombstone where Wyatt and his brothers are eating Chinese food, and it’s one of the things people often ask me about, assuming it’s anachronistic. Actually, it isn’t at all--the anachronism is that there’s broccoli in those noodle bowls, which had not yet hit our shores by the time of the OK Corral. Chinese food was a huge hit, Chinese restaurants were doing extremely well, and some Chinese restaurants were even beginning to attempt to print menus in English, with sit down areas, instead of serving simple fare from food carts.

As the food from these “chow chow houses” grew in popularity, as we can infer from the advertisements of their competitors promising free potatoes with every meal, and other such niceties to entice, there was, as ever there must be, blowback. Anti-Chinese sentiment grew to a fever pitch, and with this came overt pressure for ‘Good Americans” to patronize ‘American restaurants’. The social pressure is actually where we get some of that old racist jargon about Chinese people serving dogs and cats, which people often think was spread by competitors to degrade the Chinese restaurants, which isn’t UNTRUE, but was just as often said sheepishly by someone who couldn’t stop themselves from going and grabbing a noodle bowl or even the American dishes they offered, such as roast chicken or pork chop sandwiches.

(I won’t comment with anything but an eyeroll on the bullshit of people saying they’re ~allergic to MSG~ okay I’ll believe you when you stop eating processed food, meat, aged cheese)

It actually kept this type of reputation as being slightly scandalous well into the early 1900s, as being something you ate after the bar, something to be had in the shadows, but it was all for naught, because Chinese food became an important part of American identity. But for all that, no one ever pictures the Lone Ranger chowing down (the American phrase ‘chow’ for food actually comes from these ‘chow chow houses’) on some chop suey, but there’s every reason to believe he would have. American Chinese food is just as American as the Germanically-influenced hamburger.

(There’s a whole subtopic to go down about Jewish and Chinese communities and Kosher Chinese Food, two marginalized and othered communities coming together, but that’s a WHOLE other topic)

(Also someone please buy me Chinese food. This shit always makes me so hungry.)

*The American West is a specific time period, as far as the study of history goes. It covers the period between the end of the Civil War and the New Century, generally, and is, obviously, concerned with the western half of the country. It doesn’t cover stuff like Lewis and Clark (that’s Expansion) or even the Civil War itself, though you cannot possibly hope to study the American West in any level of seriousness without understanding the Civil War. Anyway! I know a lot about America between 1865 and 1900, and am just knowledgeable enough to be dangerous on everything else. Most History nerds are highly specified like this. We’re not as much help to your trivia team as you think.****

**I actually have had little chance to talk about ~European-style xenophobia~ as it played out in the west, because Strange Empire takes a more modern pass at it. But there was a hierarchy of “whiteness” as well, as still largely exists in Europe, land of intentionally clean ethnostates.

***I use the term “non-Chinese” instead of white because believe it or not, non-white people were not magically free of racism against Chinese people. It was horrific and BASICALLY every non-Chinese person was guilty of it to some level, a wild-ass level of hatred that led to Chinese folks not being able to PURCHASE PROPERTY BY LAW in ENTIRE STATES. Being Chinese or Native in this place and time was your Worst Bet.

****I actually was on a competitive trivia team, you DO want me.

#That was Oddly Specific #Holligay is 34: The celebration

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roguephoenix85 · 3 years

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Final chapter - is Ymir badly written or is it something else? (spoiler for the end of SNK)

TW: mentions of child abuse, sexual abuse

So I’ve seen a few people confused, upset, and a little angry about the explanation for Ymir “loving” Fritz as the reason why things were as they were, and claiming it’s bad writing and rushed and what have you. I don’t claim to know all the nuances and in and outs of long form storytelling such as Attack on Titan, but I do know some things about being a victim of brainwashing, abuse, and defending the people who abused me. Some are saying it’s Stockholm syndrome, and while I don’t necessarily disagree, it’s a bit more nuanced than that. Because I did everything I could to get away from my family that hurt and abused me, but I still kept them in my life for some inexplicable reason, year after year, involving them in it and divulging information to them that they would use to harm me psychologically and mentally for their amusement and sense of power and superiority. Why? Everyone outside of my family who observed it could see that they were shitty and awful and I didn’t need them. But after 30 years of being told I’m incompetent, no one loves me like they would, I can’t take care of my life responsibly like an adult would, and that I’ll never have enough money to live unless they helped (and the condition of their help was to give them control over my care - they picked doctors, therapists, everyone, that would give them the diagnoses they wanted so it would be an easier case to be declared legally incompetent and have my mother control my financial and housing freedom), I had internalized it to such a degree that I truly believed those things about myself. My depression and suicidal thinking sprung from the conflict that this treatment wasn’t right vs. but they’re your family and they love you so they MUST be right, you MUST be an evil child to be controlled, and YOU’RE the problem. When that is all you know, you think that it’s love. Because the love you receive is conditional upon subservience.

Ymir wanted love and the only “love” was from the king once she acquired power. As much as she wanted the love she observed the only love available was manipulative and abusive. If you’ve never known actual unconditional love, you’ll take anything that you’re given. That’s why I was raped. That’s why I was molested. That’s why I allowed myself to compromise myself to stay with people who only sought to use and manipulate me for their own ends.

Because there was none around me. And when you’re terrified of death and attached to the world, wanting and hoping that someday something good will finally happen, you latch on to people, ideas, objects that end up doing more harm than good to you, because all you know is that abuse is what love is. Mistreatment is the norm. But inside, you know it’s not right. Something doesn’t feel right. So you hope. You pick the first person who gives you any value, even if it’s your value to them and not your own inherent value you’ve found for yourself. You never truly live for yourself. You’re living so that others will give you your value. Because when you did do things for yourself - you’re ridiculed. You’re betrayed. You’re humiliated and abused more. You’re kicked so much that you go back, again, and again, because the humiliation is worse than just letting them do what they want to you. That’s what happened to Ymir. The one time she did something she wasn’t “supposed to”, what happened? She got hunted and almost murdered. And when she found that power, she had value to her oppressor. Her tribe betrayed her to save themselves. This “king” tried to have her killed. But she found power. And once she had power, her abusers sought to capitalize on it. She had no one. So when you gain power and all of a sudden you have value to someone? You latch on. Because now you’re important. Now you’ve elevated yourself. But that value isn’t something for YOU. It’s something that is for the benefit of someone who only values you when you’re doing something for them.

I’ve noticed a lot of “I don’t get why Ymir would love the king, that’s bad storytelling”. My mother is a sociopath and allowed my molestation when I was a child because “everyone else went through worse and you’re a nasty little girl” - to a nine year old. She schemed to take my inheritance away from me. When my visitation with my father was over for the weekend, she would abuse and manipulate me for three days after every visit to “get me back to where I needed to be.” I would be choked, slapped, hit, have my room ransacked and destroyed if I didn’t comply with her wishes. When I wanted to kill myself because I found no solace with friends, teachers, therapists (that my mother sought out and paid for because she wanted someone to declare me incompetent or bipolar so she could take away my legal rights and exert control over every aspect of my life), neighbors, no one, even my own stepfather told me I was stupid for wanting to kill myself and that I’m ungrateful for everything. I would later discover this man was a heroin addict for longer than I had even been alive and that the only reason my mother stayed with him was because he had a large inheritance that would come to him and she could easily have his power of attorney taken away from him and control him because hey, he’s a drug addict and can’t be trusted. Better to let her take care of it all, right?

And even after all of this, I loved her. Well, I used to. I would keep wanting her love and respect because to give it up meant I had no value to anyone. The two significant others that I did have didn’t really love me, my last one was also a sociopath who convinced me to snort adderall, take hallucinogens, and stole my car to commit sexual assault against a mutual friend who had been assaulted not even 6 hours prior by someone else. When all you know is abuse, manipulation, gaslighting, and harming yourself to get a modicum of dignity and respect and love, of COURSE you stay. Because no one else loves you, right? You’re worthless and stupid and have no value except to me. I’m the only one who can love you. I’m the only one who can use you properly. Just do what I say and what I want and don’t complain or worse will happen to you. Families don’t do this to each other, you’re just mad that I’m better than you. Choices are hard, let me make them for you because clearly you can’t handle the “real world.”

When you are told these things and unduly punished for pushing back against it, of COURSE you think it’s love. Because no one is giving it to you otherwise. They isolate you, triangulate you so you HAVE to go back to them. And you do it. Because there’s nothing else around you showing you otherwise. It’s only when you share the story with others, or view it through the lens of someone else, that you understand how fucked it truly is. Under the under, Ymir is a child. She’s a child who wants to be loved. And all she’s known is manipulation and abuse. For thousands of years, because each “founder” was just her original abuser in a new body. Like Zeke.

Until Eren. Who saw her story, and instead of using her, validated her. Saw her experiences through an objective lens and said ENOUGH OF THIS. This is WRONG. It’s SICK. And it won’t end unless I do this. Until I give her the choice to break free. All it takes is one person to listen to you and hear you and your world is changed. But she never appeared as she did when she died. She was still a hurt child beholden to her abusers. And in this instance, the only thing that could make it stop is destroying it completely.

Is genocide wrong? Yes. Is scapegoating an entire race of people in the name of world unity wrong? Yes. Is using children for war and power and brainwashing them wrong? Yes. This world is cruel. It always was. That’s been the thesis of this story from day one. But. It’s also beautiful. But you have to allow that beauty in. You have to show it to people. Ymir wasn’t able to see any of it until it was far too late, but not from her own conscious choice. She’s just a child who wants to be loved and only found manipulation. And was scared of “death” because that meant there was no love in the world. None for her. Her existence was to be used and fucked to death metaphorically. And when that’s the only love you’re given and told to expect, you hold on to it and believe there’s nothing better.

Until someone or something objective comes along, hears your pain, shares it, validates it, and then tells you it’s fucked up that that’s how you were forced to live. When everything you’ve known is a fucking lie, you do want to scorch the earth somewhat. All these people that could have helped you and they said fuck you, I’ll use you too. Standing up to your abuser is scary. I’m currently suing my mother now, and I’ve been terrified of her retaliation even though I’m 35. Because she has money and people she can manipulate into harassing me on her behalf. Even though I’ve taken as many precautions as I can, there’s still things she can do - ensure I get none of my inheritance, destroy my childhood memories, slander me publicly, fly out to where I live and stalk me or have others stalk me, or find people loyal to her to assert that I should be declared incompetent because of my autism, even though I have my own doctors I see now who disagree with that sentiment. It’s scary, but it’s right. But I’m also an adult now, and when I realized that my stepfather was telling everyone in the family that when he was high on ketamine I convinced him to murder my birth father, and that it was MY IDEA, and that my mother lied about reporting my sexual abuse to DHS because she wanted to protect her brother, his kid that abused me, and their family over me, and also had me lie about my birth father abusing me by convincing me “Oh it was so traumatic you can’t remember” so she could get custody of me just because she hated him, I finally said enough. But I didn’t have an Eren to help me make that decision. Or a Mikasa to do what needed to be done.

Ymir is still just a child mentally. Separation from that, especially when you’re a child and have no other allies in the world and you’re told worse could happen to you if you separate from your abusers, is difficult. And sometimes nonsensical. I know a lot of people were confused as to why I would still try to involve my mother in my life after the insanely fucked up shit she would do. But you don’t know any better when you’re the target. My reasoning is that I’m an adult now and I have a life of my own I’ve built despite her. Ymir didn’t have, or didn’t understand, that choice. So she stayed. Asking for breadcrumbs of love and respect and dignity from lesser beings. To quote Chelsea Hart “You want to be worshipped by a goddess without having to be a god.” She had the power, and she didn’t know what to do because she was a child. So she gave away her power. And by then it was too late to be properly reasoned with. The only way to stop it was to destroy all of it. Because when you’re a child you don’t have the benefit of retrospect. You have a limited view of the world because you’re a child. You’ve been sheltered and told manipulative bullshit to keep you down, so breaking free is the radical thing. And when you’re a child, you don’t know moderation. You’re impulsive and your emotional intelligence is limited. So of course the rumbling is the result. But you also think you still love your abuser. Because that’s all you know truly, and when you don’t see it until it’s too late, this is the result. It’s tragic, but Isayama never said this was a happy story. And considering how he WAS going to end it, giving who remains another chance at life and evening the playing field by having Paradis’ army now be comparable to the opposition army, and having the curse of the Titans eliminated from the world, that’s a pretty good ending for them.

I mean, isn’t that what Eren’s goal was since he was a child? To eliminate the Titans from the Earth? I’d say that mission is fully accomplished now.

#snk meta #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk chapter 139 spoilers #snk ch 139 #I thought the ending was fine and appropriate to what he built up #but a lot of people don't seem to understand the pull of a deeply manipulative abusivve relationship and it shows #so I wanted to give context since them saying ymir staying with him is bad writing #it's not bad #it's just outside of certain scopes of imagination and experience #people who grew up in normal households have a harder time understanding why people stay with abusers #and some of the victims will claim its love #and i thought i was being loving by understanding her #but when the truth came out i had to be my own eren and mikasa #and i had and am still learning what true understanding caring and empathy are #getting rid of the bullshit from my mind #but for those who haven't experienced that kind of trauma and abuse yeah it pry seems poorly written and inconceivable #but i'm here to say it's not that crazy and not necessarily bad writing or characterization #it's just a deeply traumatic abusive relationship that one has no other workable context for besides you know its wrong but no one else will #give you what you need #so you take it where you can and hope that it's the right love #but it never is #hopefully this illuminates that choice for some of you guys

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

Text

Survey #449-450

(both from yesterday)

What do you dislike about the house you live in? It's in the suburbs. Have you thought more about your funeral, or your wedding? My hypothetical wedding. Dinosaurs or unicorns? DINO BOIZ. What do you think of Maroon 5? I like some of their old stuff, and one or two of their newer songs, like "Payphone." What about Coldplay? I enjoy them. Fall Out Boy? Love 'em. Katy Perry? She's okay, I guess. There are a few songs I enjoy. Have you ever snuck into an R-rated movie when you weren’t old enough to see it without parents? No. What is your favorite Disney show? I don't have the slightest clue what's on Disney nowadays. What do you miss most about elementary school? Digging tunnels in the sandbox during recess with my friends. :'( When was the last time you saw the person you had your first kiss with? The start of February 2017. Hard to believe it's been four whole years... Is there anything hanging from the doorknob in your room? Ha, yes. Mom got me a little sign that says, "If I can't wear my flipflops, I'm not going," lmfao. All I wear are flipflops. What's your opinion on wearing pajamas in public? Do you yourself do that? I LITERALLY couldn't care less. I wear pjs in public sometimes; it really depends on where I'm going. What was the most severe punishment your parents gave you when you were growing up? Taking away technology was the worst. Do you usually fill up at the same gas station? Mom goes to a few different ones, depending on proximity and price. Have you ever owned any pet birds? What kinds/colours? I have not. I used to want a cockatiel for a long time, though. Do you pay much attention to your YouTube recommendations? If so, what was the last video that caught your attention? Kinda, I guess. I'm not sure what was the last recommended video I clicked. What has been the happiest time of your life so far? It's complicated. Most of my best memories are from high school with Jason, yet at the same time I was HORRIBLY depressed. I think my most pure happiness when I was really progressing with recovery. Moving on from him, losing tons of weight, feeling motivated... Have you ever had a crush on a celebrity? Who? My two biggest celebrity crushes ever have been/is Link Neal and Mark Fischbach. Do you have any fears you would rarely admit to anyone? Nah. Admitting fears isn't a big deal to me at all. What website do you spend most of your time on? YouTube. What did you have for dinner last night? A chicken sandwich. What could you talk about for hours? Meerkats, Silent Hill, Mark... Do you have a lamp beside your bed? Yes. What's your favorite ice cream topping? Chocolate syrup. What was the last TV show you binge watched? Avatar: The Last Airbender. Would you rather eat burgers or tacos? Oh, burgers for sure. I don't likes tacos. Did your mother change her maiden name when/if she got marred? Yes. Do you use TikTok? Nope. Are you closer to your mother or father? Mom. Do you own any costumes? No. Would you care if your SO went to a strip club? Hm. So long as they're not laying hands on any of the strippers and they ASKED me first, I don't think I'd care? I'm pretty sure I'd also only be okay with that if we were a long-term couple where very strong trust has been built. How helpful are your parents to you? Would they help you to pay for your first apartment? College? Where does the line end? They are so, so very helpful and I'm pretty sure would go to the ends of the earth to help me in any way they could. I know they WOULD help pay for the things you mentioned, but it's not something I want them to do. I want to be able to financially provide for myself, one day... Have you ever had to evacuate due to natural disaster? No. What video games did you have when you were growing up? LOADS. I looooooooved video games. What was the first election you ever voted in? This last one, actually. Can you hear anything right now? Yeah. I'm watching Gab play the Resident Evil 3 remake on hardcore mode. What's the coolest, most unusual pet you can think of? I've always thought sugar gliders were quite interesting as pets. I wanted one for a looong time, but I am not informed on how well they do in captivity and if it should even be legal for me to truly want one anymore. Have you ever seen a UFO or other weird object in the sky? By definition, it was a UFO. Sometimes I do even wonder if it was an alien spacecraft, given JUST how strange that shit was. I won't explain it again, just 'cuz I've done it in many surveys before. Are there any albums you know every single lyric to? I could probably nail Ozzy's Black Rain. What's your go-to painkiller? Advil. Does your mom have a celebrity look-alike? No, but there's a celebrity with her exact name. Do you think it’s pretty when 100s of balloons are let loose into the sky? NO NO NO NO NO that shit is SO upsetting. Where do you think they end up??? It's littering. Animals get choked and tangled by them all the time. What do you draw more than anything else? Definitely meerkats. Have you ever visited someone in a psychiatric home or ward? No, but people have visited me in one. Have you ever received a parking fine? No. Are you in any group chats? Who's in them? No. Do you have a lisp? No. Do you have an Instagram account? Do you use it often? I have three, but one's pretty much dead. I don't post stuff regularly on my other two either, really... Can you parallel park? I would absolutely hit another car. Have you ever played paintball? Did you get hit? No, that shit's dumb. You can get really hurt. What was your favorite fairy tale when you were a kid? Maybe Little Red Riding Hood? Are your parents still together? If not, do you know why? No. Mostly financial disagreements, but I know there's stuff I don't know. Have you ever been evicted? Why? Yes, because we couldn't keep up with rent. Have you ever worked as a manager or supervisor? Noooo. What was the last thing you voted for? So Snake Discovery (a reptile channel I love) hosted an enclosure build-off recently, and the winners were selected by fans via voting. The guy I voted for got 3rd. What's the most amazing animal you've ever seen in captivity? I've been very close to an elephant at a zoo once. They're magnificent. Having been to Sea World as a kid (I would NEVER go now), I also saw the killer whale show. As much of a spectacle as it was, it was animal abuse regardless. Do you like white chocolate? It's okay in small doses. Have you ever eaten snow? Yeah. Do you talk to your pets? Um, duh. Have you ever adopted a stray? (Cat or dog?) Cats, yes. Do you read about any mythology? (Greek, Roman, Norse, Egyptian, etc) No, not by my own will. I DO love mythology, I just... don't read it. Do you ever use bath bombs? No. Have you ever gotten angry at an employee and complained to the manager? No. Have you ever sent your food back at a restaurant? Yes, because they got my meal wrong. I was REALLY shy to do it, but I made sure to do it politely and apologetically. Do you sleep in a bra? What mad lad sleeps in a bra???????????? Has your ex ever gone out with someone close to you? No. Can you suggest someone funny on YouTube? I'll go for someone what isn't my obvious vote, ha ha. There are truly so many, but Garrett Watts is high on the list. Elena Bateman, too. Can you do a handstand? No. Has anyone close to you ever been suicidal? Yes. Have you ever broken someone's heart and didn't care? Tyler sure acted like I did, and to be entirely frank, I didn't care very much, but only because it was a HUGE overreaction and I knew he'd be fine quick. What color is your hairbrush? It's just a white comb. Who was your most recent call from? My psychiatrist. Have you ever watched someone die? Only animals... It's the absolute worst. Are you currently "seeing" someone? No. Are you friends with someone who's autistic? I might be, but I know my niece is on the spectrum. Do you like humans? To be entirely transparent... I think I wish humans were never a thing. We've done so, so much harm to the planet, some things irrevocable. Earth would be a much healthier, far more peaceful place if we'd never existed. Do you like pandas? I love pandas. P.S., fuck outta here if you're one of the people who don't support conservation efforts for them. That shit blows my mind. What do you think of Evanescence? They're great. Amy's voice is absolutely incredible. I don't even think that's an opinion, but global fact, ha ha. What do you think of Avenged Sevenfold? I like some of their stuff. I haven't heard a whole lot though, honestly. What do you think of Halestorm? ^ Do you think you are attractive? God no. I don't see me as an attractive person at all. Do you like dinosaurs? I love 'em; I was OBSESSED as a kid, and my first aspired job was a paleontologist. Do you like lasagna? No. Do you share a room? No. When was the last time you climbed a tree? Never, actually. Have you ever been hospitalized for more than 2 weeks? I think my longest was three. What can you do that none of your friends can do? I dunno. Why did you last go to the airport? Mom and I were dropping Sara off so she could go home. Who was the last person to see you in your underwear? My mom. Who’s the most attractive female you’ve ever seen? Maybe Alissa White-Gluz from Arch Enemy? Or my friend Alon. I'm certain there's more, because women are just so fuckin beautiful asdkfajlwejkrjqwe Red, white, yellow, or pink roses? I actually like the original, rich red. Do you think someone would ever want to marry you? Well, two people have, but one absolutely doesn't anymore and the other knows that it's not healthy or emotionally safe for either of us to imagine that at this time. I don't know if anyone ever will again. Do you like Thanksgiving? No. Like I enjoy the focus on thankfulness, but the history isn't right and I don't enjoy the food. Do you ever wear colored eye liner? No. Have you ever used a darkroom? No. Have you ever been "popular"? No. Has someone ever tried to convert you? Yes. Have you ever been told that you dress like a slut? No, not that how someone dresses has any relevance to their sexual activity. What’s your most recent obsession? Final Fantasy X jfccccccc. Video games or board games? The former. Are you scared of tarantulas? As much as I talk about them... you can probably tell I have a massive interest in them, ha ha. However, even though I love them, they're still sorta scary. Like, threat poses are no joke. And it's terrifying on the very rare occasion they hiss. During Covid, do you wear a mask or no mask? I'm fully vaccinated, and yet I still wear a mask because I'm a considerate human fucking being. Do you have a PlayStation 4? No, but I reeeeaaally want one. :/ Have you ever played Fortnite? Nah, not my type of game. Do you like anime? Yeah. Have you ever been on a boat? Yeah. I was always SO excited as a kid when Dad would take the boat out for a fishing trip. Have you ever played Kingdom Hearts? I've played some of it with Jason. I wasn't a fan of it. Have you ever built a snowman? Yes. DC or Marvel? I don't really have a preference.

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Do you prefer your nails long or short? Why? Short, because I can't keep my nails long for the life of me. I pick/peel my nails badly. Do you have any vinyl records? No. Are you still in touch with your best friend from high school? No. Have you ever visited any celebrity gravesites? No. How do you feel about archaeology? It's extremely fascinating. Would you have a big cat (like a tiger) for a pet if you could? No. I could never provide the environment they need, and it's simply not safe. They are not domestic animals, and even the ones that seem most tame can surprise you. What are your favorite smells? Cinnamon rolls, coffee, lilac, fresh baked bread, barbecue, etc. Have you ever had to block people online for harassing you? I'm not sure, actually... What is your favorite thing to do on The Sims? Surveys have a lot of questions about those games... I only ever played the ones that focused on animals, and I think I most enjoyed breeding them and naming the bbz. :^) And watching their behavior. Which hair color you've had has been your favorite? Red. If you were stupid-rich, would you ever actually want a mansion? No. I do not need all that room, nor am I wasting my money on such excessive space. What drinking games have you played? None. Do you take lessons for anything? No. Has something really heavy ever fallen on you? No. If you wear makeup, what colors do you usually wear? Only black. Does your shower have curtains or a glass door/wall? Curtains. If you have more than one pet, do they ever get jealous of each other? One is a snake and the other is a cat, so. Is there a room in your house that you don’t like going in? No. Besides salt and butter, do you put anything on your popcorn? Nothing besides what you mentioned. Are you lonely? I'm way too lonely for it to be healthy. Do you like pineapple? Yep. Have you ever seen fireflies? Yes; they're endemic to here. Have you ever trespassed? As a kid, yes. Do you raise your hand or participate in class? I did sometimes. Are you afraid of heights? Yes. Are you afraid of the dark? No. Would you ever be your school’s mascot who wears that costume? No. Have you ever written a poem? I've written a lot. Would you ever be a tornado chaser? FUCK TO THE HELL NO. What is your favorite thing to eat with bbq sauce, if you even like that stuff? I hate bbq sauce. Have you ever had to do a class in summer school? No. Have you ever been to the rainforest? No. Ever thought about writing a book? Yes. Have you ever had a dream where you killed someone? Yes. Have you ever solved a Rubik’s Cube? Nope. Have you seen all of the Jaws movies? No, only the first one with Tyler. It was aight. Have you ever had a black eye? No. Is your ex sexually attractive to you still? I haven't seen a picture of Jason in years, and I don't want to. Not because I care about how he looks now, it'd just be extremely triggering to see his face. I still find Sara gorgeous. Have you ever been to couple’s counseling? No. How often does your employer ask you to work overtime? N/A When was the last time you were scared? Ummmm I really can't say I know. What’s your favorite song by Rihanna? "Disturbia" is where it's AT. There's this synthwave edit of it that I positively adore. Can you speak binary? No. Have you ever had a pet that you disliked? A family pet, yes. Do you like boys with long hair? UGH yes. Do you like root beer? Not really, no. Do you like ice cream cake? Not really. Do you ever dream of yourself dying? That's not all that rare in my nightmares. What song always makes you sad? I think two songs are tied for what makes me most sad: "Stairway to Heaven" by Led Zeppelin and "Eternally Yours" by Motionless In White. Were you mean as a little kid? No; I was a sweet kid. Have you ever tried spam? No, it looks SO gross to me. How fast can you run? This is pathetic, but I don't think I CAN run. My knees are too weak. I think my weight coming down on them would just make me crumple over. Have you ever bought something from Spencer's? Yeah. Have you ever been on a diet? I've tried diets many times. Do you prefer light or dark jeans? Dark. When you listen to music, do you generally sing along, or just listen? I almost always just listen. Do you have any of your exes as friends on Facebook? Yeah. Who was your first love? Do you ever miss that person? Jason. I miss his memory every day. I say "memory" because it's been years, and I have no way of knowing who he is today. How many cars are parked at your house right now? One. Has anyone ever told you you’re a control freak? No. Do you know anyone who has gone missing? If so, were they ever found? Not personally. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings with extremely hot sauce at Buffalo Wild Wings. Have you ever deliberately tried to get someone drunk? Um yeah, no. Do you like sprinkles on your ice cream? No. I don't like sprinkles in general. Do you know how to do the moon walk? No. Has anybody ever told you that you have a good singing voice? Yes, somehow. Onion rings or french fries? French fries, for sure. Who is the best cook that you know? Dunno. If you have your ears pierced, when did you get them pierced? When I was a kid. I don't remember the age, but I was old enough to decide myself that I wanted them pierced. If you have siblings, have they moved out or do they still live with you? They have their own places now. Do you like fried rice? Yessss. Are there any animals you refuse to touch? Some bugs. Have you ever intentionally fed a house spider? I don't believe so, no. What makes you feel lucky? That I have the family I do. What is something nice going on in your life right now? Just the gym-going, really... Who’s the worst person you’ve encountered on the Internet? An old friend I just knew as Shakes. If death wasn’t a consequence, what would you try? Maybe sky-diving, idk. Has a teacher ever told you off? No. Have you ever told off a teacher? No. Do/did you take school seriously or not? I certainly did. How do you usually cope with breakups? Not well. I obsess over how something's wrong with me and I'm not good enough for anyone. Disney princess or Disney animal movies? Animals, for sure. What's your favorite Katy Perry song? It's evading me right now... Have you ever made/tried friendship bread!? Omg, I forgot that was a thing! I actually have. I've completely forgotten the gist of it or even how it tastes, but I remember I loved it. What do you want to know about the future? If I'll ever be content and happy. What's your biggest insecurity? My weight. Ever found something disgusting in your food while eating out? No, thank god. Does the area where you live have a good or bad reputation? A very bad one. Are there any holidays that you don't celebrate? Yeah, like St. Patrick's Day, among some others. If you could find out who you're gonna marry right now, would you? Yes. Save myself time and heartbreak. How important is it to you that your partner has the same religious views? I wouldn't date someone very religious. If they're more tame about it, that's fine, but I'd prefer to not date a religious individual. Do you own a Wii? Yeah. I've kinda been wanting to play Guitar Hero or Rock Band lately on it... Do you like a lot of cheese on your pizza? "A regular, reasonable amount of cheese." <<<< This. I really don't like when things are so cheesy that it leaves a ridiculous trail when you try to separate pieces. Have you ever been made fun of because of your sexuality? Not directly to my face, but I can guarantee people I know had certain ~opinions~ on it when I came out. I also like just came out as pansexual versus bi, and I'm not even telling a lot of people in my personal life because I know they'll find the concept absolutely ridiculous. What would you do if you found an abandoned animal? "Depends on what type of an animal it was, and whether it was friendly or skittish." <<<< This. I'm obviously not going to try to usher a rabid dog over to me (I'd call a rescue or something if the animal appeared potentially dangerous), but if the animal appeared safe, my heart would absolutely lead me to try and get the animal to come to me so I could take it home and try to find the owner. Have you ever kissed someone who had a tongue piercing? No. What singer/band do you think deserves to be more famous than they are? Jonathan Young from YouTube. He is INCREDIBLE. He deserves to be picked up by a label so badly. What is your favorite PlayStation 1 game? The original Silent Hill, no competition. Do you think objectum sexuals are real, or attention seekers? I really can't imagine someone pretending to want to fuck their car for attention. I don't get it AT ALL, and it's weird as shit to me, but I mean, I don't think people can control what they're attracted to. How far out of your age bracket would you date? 21-early 30s, probs. Have you ever had an STD? No. Have you ever tried pho? No. Pick one: Crash Bandicoot or Spyro? Spyro!!!! I have the original trilogies of both series, but Spyro is where it's AT. Does your job allow piercings or tattoos? I'm unemployed, but I wouldn't work at a job that didn't, honestly. If you could dye your hair any color right now with absolutely no restrictions, what color would you dye it? Maybe like a galaxy-esque mixture of layered colors. I've wanted that for YEARS. Have you ever known a white supremacist? This region is swimming in them. Have you ever spoken to a detective before? No. Do ladders scare you? Climbing them does, yes. Do you have any tattoos on your arms? Yeah. Have you ever thrown up on anybody? Unless I did unknowingly as a baby, no. How many people have you turned down when they asked you out? Uhhh two or three, maybe? What is your favourite kind of fruit cobbler? I actually haven't tried enough to have an educated favorite, but I can say I love peach. Do you hear any other people talking right now? I'm watching a let's player play Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice, so I hear her, obviously. When was the last time you started a new medication? It's been a while, idk. What is your favourite type of nut? Cashews, I guess. I don't really like nuts, but I definitely like cashew bars. Where did you eat the best pizza you’ve ever eaten in your life? ... Domino's lmaoooo. Did you ever watch The Rugrats when you were a kid? Yeah, I loved that show. I even had two video games. Do you know anyone who was adopted? Yes. Can you name all 50 US state capital cities? No. Can you tie balloons? I can't, actually. Have you had a deep conversation with anyone today? Yeah. I wanted Sara's advice on something I'm dealing with. On your Facebook friends list, who was the last person to have their b-day? One of my sisters' was yesterday, actually. What did you/are you having for dinner tonight? I had Special K cereal. Name some healthy foods that you enjoy eating. Strawberries, apples, bananas, (sometimes) broccoli, other things that aren't coming to me. Who was the last person you Facebook messaged? My friend Girt. What flavor was the last cupcake you ate? The cupcake itself was chocolate, and the icing was uhhhh... blue? Apart from sleeping, what do you plan to do tonight? I haven't done anything of note. I'm probably going to bed soon. What’s the age difference between your parents? Two years, I think. When was the last time you ate an apple? Today. I have been on a big sliced apples w/ peanut butter kick lately. Have you had any caffeinated beverages today? I have soda every day. :x Have you eaten any chocolate today? What kind? Mom brought me a Reese's home today when she went out with a friend. How many different towns/cities have you lived in? Three. Have you ever written a song or poem for someone special? Poems, yes. Are you attracted to the last person you Facebook messaged? Not very much physically. Emotionally... I don't know. Do you have any ice cream in your freezer? What flavor is it? No. Ice cream is my #1 comfort food, so that's a big "keep out of the house."

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