#granted a lot of things kept happening every fall since 2018 too | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sp00kybitme · 3 years

Text

Okay so this is really personal but I feel like I need to share it in order to better my health because being upfront about your trauma is a good way to heal from it. So buckle up because this post is gonna be a real doozy:

So let's start by backing up about 4 years ago in the summer of 2017, I was 17 since my birthday follows the year number and I was going through my own personal turmoil, dealing with my already medically diagnosed PTSD, OCD, Anxiety disorder, and severe depression. I had falling outs with most all of my irl friends due to my declining mental health but the decline started around august as my therapist who worked the best for me was leaving the clinic. She was openly queer and I related a lot to her since I felt like for once I wasn't alone yet after she left I was distraught. Also at the time I had a falling out with my father and my brother was a recovering drug addict so you could say shit was really complicated around that time and my head space was not well.

So back in 2016 I was able to get a PS4 and I hadn't used it until 2017 due to being more focused on my mental health but I caved and began playing Overwatch and there I met some folks who made life seem somewhat normal for once, no high end conflict, no drama, just simple fun with friends is all I wanted and for a while I actually had that! That was until the coming month september.

So September was when I started breaking off from big friend groups and settled with 2 people, let's call them Z and J for context, So Z was someone who I would say had undiagnosed mental health issues and J was someone who was mutual friends with Z because they went to high school together. Z and J were some of my only friends and we as people really bonded over stuff and I felt like life was actually turning up after losing so much shit that year.

So just for preface/context: at this time I identified with she/her pronouns and went by the term pansexual/demiromantic but now after much time I identify with they/them pronouns and am at least asexual, as for romantic I'm still figuring that out. So November rolled around and I noticed conflict immediately, Z and J were subtly arguing and J was using a victim complex mentality to guilt Z into caving yet at the time I was an oblivious 17 year old who was just desperate was friendship to the point of trying to always be a mediator.

Z was always talking about how lonely they were and how every relationship they had never worked out and at the time I was not out about not being cisgender and so they perceived me as a girl. Throughout September to november they would CONSTANTLY ask me out to the point of it being a desperation and a guilt trip and at this point I was afraid. I had lost EVERYONE in my life here and it was so frustrating but for a month I would keep my boundaries up and say no because I genuinely wasn't interested in a relationship and I didnt feel taht way about Z but they continued to push me and eventually I gave in and I remember the exact place it happened.

So we all 3 had a daily routine of getting on and playing Overwatch for hours just to talk shit and goof around so that day we were skirmishing on the "Temple of anubis" map and I said yes and in retrospect it was a horrible time to do that because it was in front of J and in turn made them feel loke a 3rd wheel. I wanna say that me conceding into a relationship while having no attractiom or interest was wrong of me and that I apologize for but again I WAS pressured as a minor. Also I forgot to say that Z was 19 and while that kind of age gap isn't inherently the worst, I was still an emotionally vulnerable minor being coaxed into a relationship.

So things went on relatively the same except for the fact that J was beginning to sound more spiteful and ended up getting upset easier and volatile which I blamed myself for but we'll get more into J very soon. So Z and I were noticing the change in behavior but tried not to bother J with it because they always didn't wanna talk about it. J confided in us at one point by telling us about their living situation being troublesome, they claimed they had no privacy, were verbally abused by their mother, and had relatives who were also abusive. We both had empathy for J and I was strongly affected by that since I had a strong disconnect from my father at the time who was abusive in a religious way.

We tried to keep things relatively normal at this point for the sake of J but Z was always trying to be bluntly romantic with me and I wasn't interested although they did ask me for "thigh pics" (lemme preface by saying I was still a minor at this point) but I was coaxed into that and virtual s*x which I was extremely uncomfortable with but Z had a strong tendency to victimize and guilt trip and I just wanted friends and had PTSD from friends levaing me and calling me selfish. It's not something I'm proud of but I genuinely was THAT scared of losing friends. In instances where J would get spiteful and resent Z, J at one point left our group chat and group and didnt reply to us because they attempted s*icide. We were HORRIFIED to find that out and really tried to keep a close eye on J into the new year.

2018 rolls in and now is the year that I consider my worst, I will TW// onward for talks of verbal abuse, emotional manipulation, talks of s*xual assault, s*icide, homophobia, and gaslighting. So after J's s*icide attempt I felt even WORSE in a relationship that itself was already one sided but I powered through as to not upset Z. The friendship dynamic we had at this point was gone as it only seemed to be arguing and fake excitement. One thing we all did in the game was idolize specific characters and obsess over them for mental comfort to the point that we got emotionally distraught over their deaths in game, genuinely very unhealthy for all of us. One thing J would do at times was purposefully pick me and Z's characters in game in commit s*icide in game with them just to upset us and would sometimes mentally torture Z by forcing them to be the character Z hated which only screwed up Z's Mental health. J would also alwsys victimize and act like they weren't being treated fairly and that all culminated in January.

January 2018, J began putting the thought of a polyamorus relationship on the table as in J, Z, and I would all be in a relationship together which I wasn't too keen on but was open to if it made everyone happy. Z wasnt interested at all and for the span of 2 weeks of January, J kept trying to manipulate and coax Z into a relationship and had me try to convince Z as well which I didn't know was wrong but granted I didn't understand Poly relationships until years later. Z eventually half caved and gave it a try but a day later Z backed out because they felt uncomfortable. I was a bit irritated at that time and so was J but I didn't personally know why because I was very oblivious to love and how it was supposed to be. We also would play 1v1 type games for fun until this time because both of them were seriously bothered by losing in 1v1 games and would gloat when they won. I personally didn't care as much and would joke around for the most part just to have fun. After this month we stopped playing 1v1 type games.

Early February came and we all began hanging out in skirmish (which means like a map where you just freeroam for 30 minutes until it refreshes), sometimes we would do ship dynamics with each other for fun and at the time we were joking around. Me and J joked around about two male characters (Junkrat and Roadhog) being together and if you have seen the two characters then you'll know why. Their dynamic as friends is flawed but a popular one yet nonetheless I liked their dynamic as a relationship at the time. Around this time, Z was beginning to do what I would call "selective homophobia" as in they would like some gay ships and despise others. When Z was presented with a WLW (lesbian) ship, they would be 100% supportive yet when a specific MLM (gay) ship was presented, they would make gagging noises as if they were trying to throw up. I should also mention how often Z would send Overwatch porn to group chats and how it made me incredibly uncomfortable, especially as a minor.

J would ultimately hold the blatant homophobia against Z and tried to turn me again Z for it. During this time, J was messaging me privately to try and convince me that Z was a bad person and that I should break up with them. Ultimately I agreed and broke up with Z over this and me and J distanced myself from Z to just hang out together. I was personally distraught in just finding out that a friend I was close to ended up being Homophobic all this time and emotionally it broke me a lot. At the time, J was there to help me emotionally and that initially helped me build trust with them. Eventually in mid February they asked me out and since they had helped me so much mentally, I felt out of a sense of obligation that being with them was something I almost owed them.

Side note: I wanna bring up this point as just a weird coincidence: February itself has always been one of the worst months for me every year, something horrendous has happened to me each February of each year and its weird because of how often I can recall this still being the case.

So After being around J for so long we started to just joke around and have fun as friends. They actually showed me their face for the first time over a video call which actually surprised me because they looked different then I thought they were but nonetheless I enjoyed their company because I felt like I had a friend. March rolled around and my birthday was coming up, my 18th birthday which was more of a big deal to J than me. They wanted to see me in provocative pictures and were constantly talking about how excited they were for it and I didn't understand why really. They were also 19 btw and they seemed way too excited for something as simple as that kind of picture. The day rolled around and I felt uncomfortable, I was told to send pictures and I did which admittedly made me uncomfortable as hell yet I still did and I was given positive affirmation for it. Little fact about me is that one thing I didn't get much growing up was positive affirmation so getting that made me feel like I was actually doing something right for once.

Over the next few months, J went from supportive and well intent to showing their true colors. As time went on they began to get more and more controlling with the things that I did as an individual. It went from supoorting the fact that I struggled with PTSD to using it as a reason that I shouldn't be making other friends besides them. From being supportive of my open mindedness with sexuality to coaxing me into spewing hateful rhetoric. Their family was actually really supportive of me at first, the thibg they had said about their mom turned out to be a lie used to play on my sympathy because their mom adored me as a person and constantly would ask if me and my mom needed anything. They sent us two big care packages through the mail with food and money for food and I originally was against that not just because I'm genuinely horrible at taking gifts but because they had my physical address and knew where I lived in case they wanted to "visit". The care packages meant a lot to me and my mom because we've been low income since I was little and having the luxury to live in a house or not have to worry about food consumption was something I never had.

During late spring, J began to be a lot more forceful with me by manipulating and gaslighting me into thinking many toxic things. I was afraid at this point of both J and being alone again. They would tell me that I should start acting more feminine and "like a girl" and that was REALLY triggering to me since over a big part of my life, I was questioning my gender identity and being forced into this feminine box made me hate myself. They would tell me to wear "panties", talk higher pitched, and even tell me to be a submissive partner who just lets them lead and me follow. I'm naturally a more dominant person in general so it was like I was disregarding a huge part of my identity. I was almost silenced into this role that J wanted me to be. They would force me to do lewd things online and while you could say that I shouldn't have been worried since it wasn't irl, they knew my address and last name.

One instance I remember was that J asked about my deadname and I told them and then questioned why I would change that name since it "was more feminine and fit me". It was upsetting to hear that but at least they didn't deadname me after finding out. They also kept telling me that I wasnt allowed to be attracted to anyone but them. I wasn't allowed to protest because they would threaten killing themselves and actually send a picture of them with a knife to their throat as if to threaten me.

A detail I left out intentionally was something that disturbed me the most about them and really makes me think they have a serious form of some kind of dissociative mental disorder. (Context: I'm not stigmatizing folks who have Dissociative disorders, my mother has one and the symptoms J exhibited make me think of someone who experiences detachment or disillusionment. Im not going to diagnose them but my instinct makes me believe that it could be something similar yet they have never been medically diagnosed.) J would constantly talk about a friend they had in elementary school who had taken their own life and how the spirit of this friend still keeps near them since they were close back then. This friend almost seemed to become a way to manipulate me later on in 2018.

This friend of theirs almost seemed to be a way to seperate themselves from how they treated me or avoid blame. This friend would threaten me that if I didn't let J r*pe me that they were gonna commit s*icide and that it would be my fault for not doing what they wanted. They also would threaten me to do what J said or else they would "possess" me. I'm someone who has had bad experiences with spirits so I didn't want to have more hell. J themselves would sometimes get extremely angry when I stood up for myself or expressed stuff I was really interested in and would threaten to track me down, assault me, and kill my mom. They also began pitting me against my mom because I would talk about how my mom was getting worried about me being hurt but J said that my mom was faking it and manipulating me and I almost believed J but I know my mom and I know she cares too much about me to do something like that.

Around September, I was practically an emotionless shell. I wasn't excited about anything, I wasn't angry anymore, I was barely feeling much of anything but a deep seeded sadness. I lacked in a lot of places and repressed any emotion I had so deep that I couldn't react to anything anymore. I think J began to notice because they started to actually act concerned after a while but that was flickering like a light switch. One of the last instances that I broke down was august of 2018 when I began crying heavily over microphone and begging them to not hate me. They had no reaction, no remorse , no empathy and when their mom came in they just left me there crying without affirming me at all.

During this time, I was sending hundreds of nude photos a day to appease them and they would get off and go to sleep and during the night I would secretly cry and look at queer based things in private to try and keep some semblance of my identity in tact. I actually started watching Sanders sides around July 2018 and enjoyed the series and how nice the fanbase seemed and it somehow helped me get through this rough period of time.

October was probably some of the worst time because I ended up missing my favorite holiday, Halloween which was the only time I personally enjoyed being myself because the element of the holiday made me happy. That halloween I spent on overwatch with J, overall miserable and hating myself. I also forgot to mention that J would dictate what I wore, they would hate that I wore boxer briefs and men's cologne and deodorant, they constantly questioned why I was trying to be masculine when I was AFAB but again I was also closeted with my gender identity and this shoved me even more into the closet when they would argue with me about it.

November rolled around and I had practically been at my breaking point, J was trying to convince me for weeks to move down south to live with them and their family and I was practically being forced. I have a fear of flying and I kept saying that I wouldn't feel comfortable leaving my disabled mom by herself and my mom also hates flying. J was trying to get things their way and forced me too and I was looking into flights even though I was deadset on not going. November 11th 2018, I wasn't replying to J's texts right away because I was actually standing up for myself. They began HEAVILY threatening to end their life and I remember sitting there and crying without emotion then I hung up on them and told them to stop calling and texting me as they had begun to text and call me incessantly. I said I needed a break and finally let out a breath when they said ok.

Around late November, I felt as though I had misjudged Z and unblocked and messaged them, apologizing for being a dick to them. They initially forgave me and I was just going to move on but they asked if we could play in a public chill server and I accepted just to try and get my mind off of J. As we entered into the game, J suddenly started spectating and Z left instantly out of fear. I only talked to Z just to apologize and give context as to what happened, I was desensitized and just needed a friend. J messaged me apologizing frantically and saying "if you've moved on to date Z, just tell me so I can move on" and I said "no, I just needed a friend right now and I need my space. Don't talk to me for a while, respect that one thing." And thankfully, I was actually left alone.

December rolled around once again and at this point I had finally blocked J and moved on from everything, J's mom had messaged me on Facebook and told me that I was a "filthy cheater who just used J for their kindess and didn't care about them" but I did actually genuinely care deeply about J yet he abused my compassion by gaslighting me and putting me into this false sense of security. Before I could reply, she blocked me so she never actually took the time to ask me. I was feeling guilty for leaving J but I was reassured by Z during that time period and Z had apologised for previous comments as well. Z ended up introducing another friend to the group, we'll call them A. We would first play Overwatch but immediately switch to Minecraft which I had bought when still with J to play with their family. Around this time I had begun to cling to Z uninitentionally due to recovering from my trauma and needing that affirmation that I wasn't some terrible abuser, as J had manipulated me to think I was. Z was getting a bit bothered by this yet they had never publicly told me nor did they understand why I clung to them in the first place. Z knew I had PTSD and I had told them exactly what I had just described earlier about what J had done to me and Z was initially very empathetic though I was never told that my clinginess was bothering them because I was in recovery mode. Eventually towards the end of January, I was told by A that they knew why I was so clingy with Z. At first I was confused because they both had known that I had PTSD but A proceed. "The only reason you're so clingy with Z is because you're secretly still in love with them, I can read you like an open book and you would do best to stop denying your obvious feelings for them" Hearing this made me personally disgusted, appalled, and upset mentally. Z kept to the side during this discussion and didn't go against A however they didn't deny A's words.

I retorted by speaking about my trauma and how it made me cling to people unnecessarily but then A proceeded to invalidate my trauma by implying that I was over exaggerating what I had gone through. I felt awful and I forcefully distanced myself from them both only to go back once again out of fear of being alone. This continued for a while until July 10th, 2019 when I finally distanced myself from Z for good. I made my own account on Instagram and over the span of 2 years, I built up a community of people who liked my work and I got my sense of individualism back give or take. I recently changed accounts because this era in my life is brand new and I couldn't be happier with where I'm at.

This post is more so a form of being vulnerable and a bit of exposure therapy. Sure im not a perfect person, I can't even publicly out my abusers but I think it would do more harm than good. If anyone wants to have a warning for their accounts, at least on YouTube, message me on my Insta in my bio. I'm sorry if this was long and possibly upsetting but I wanted to just get this out. I dont know who would be seeing this but if you read this far: thank you, honestly its upsetting to have to go through so much bullshit and I hate talking about it because it's difficult to really put shit out there without feeling like its some tupe of attention thing. I don't want to post this for sympathy, I want to post this for me, just to feel better about where I'm at and also face my trauma head on to heal from it. I'm not saying this to compare who's life is worse or not but I am posting this to better myself.

Thank you again,

Spooky

3 notes · View notes

gotmymindsetonyou · 3 years

Text

The Best and Worst Things About Each MCU Movie

These are all just my stinky opinions. You are allowed to disagree, you are allowed to agree. Most of these are jokes anyway. I’m honestly just happy you’re reading this. Minor Spoilers Ahead!

Iron Man (2008) -

Best: This movie almost perfectly sets the tone for the entire universe that has at that point yet to have been created. Looking back, you can imagine the feeling of “Where are they going to go from here?” and I think that’s one of the most important things that this movie needed to accomplish.

Worst: What the fuck is Jeff Bridges doing? What’s his endgame here? I get he’s trying to take over Stark Industries but how’s he gonna do that from inside that giant metal suit he uses to kill people inside their cars?

Incredible Hulk (2008) -

Best: Tim Roth is in it and I think that is pretty cool.

Worst: I haven’t actually seen it, but the cgi looks god awful, what the hell.

Iron Man 2 (2010) -

Best: Sam Rockwell is so goddamn annoying in this movie and I think that’s amazing, he’s such a little stinker.

Worst: I remember basically nothing else about this movie except some guy talking about birds, idk.

Thor (2011) -

Best: It introduces Loki, probably one of the most beloved villains in the entire franchise.

Worst: This movie is so goddamn boring and it’s my least favorite and I hate it. Don’t @ me.

Captain America: The First Avenger (2011) -

Best: The first good chunk of this movie is actually a really compelling character study on Steve Rogers and what makes him a good man. Seeing him basically being paraded as this propaganda figure and watching him struggle with this is one of the most compelling things about him as a person. Really wish they kept this up for the entire movie.

Worst: The red skull is really boring guys. He’s red, that’s it. Give me something else to work with man.

Marvel’s The Avengers (2012) -

Best: This movie proved that you can have a superhero team up with this many people and have it fucking work. It doesn’t matter if you hate or love this movie, you cannot deny the effects it has on the genre.

Worst: It’s shot like a bad CW show. It looks so ugly.

Iron Man 3 (2013)

Best: This one is actually my favorite of the bunch. Exploring the question of what makes Iron Man, the suit or the person, is shown really well here. I thoroughly dig it.

Worst: That scene where Harley flip flops about whether or not he really knows Tony makes me so irrationally angry.

Thor: The Dark World (2013)

Best: It’s slightly better than Thor, and I actually can feel myself start to have a good time whenever Loki’s on screen.

Worst: Once again, this movie is insanely forgettable. Christopher fucking Eccleston is in this movie and I could not tell you a single thing about this character.

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014) -

Best: This movie has one of the best hand-to-hand fight scenes in the entire MCU. You know the one I’m talking about. It gives me chills, I love it.

Worst: Having the government stand-in that Steve questions in the beginning of the movie actually be a front for N*zis that he can just beat up, and not an actual metaphor for the issues with the government today? You ain’t slick.

Guardians Of The Galaxy Vol. 1 (2014) -

Best: This is the mcu movie basically anyone can enjoy. Anybody can watch this movie and find something to love about it. The characters, the messages about family and learning to be okay with feeling love, the jokes, hell, even the space setting. THE MUSIC. It’s the full package baby.

Worst: Chris Pratt has an unfortunate cameo in this one.

Avengers: Age of Ultron (2015) -

Best: I have a couple of things. A) The party scene where we get to watch the Avengers talk and be friends with each other and act like people. B) I love James Spader no matter what he is doing.

Worst: Why is everyone quipping? Why is the robot quipping? Why would they massacre my boy like that?

Ant-man (2015) -

Best: I want Paul Rudd to marry me, best dad in the mcu.

Worst: The moment Edgar Wright left this project.

Captain America: Civil War (2016) -

Best: Introduces two great characters, Spider-man and Black Panther. These two get a lot of love when it comes to designing their characters in this movie and it makes me very happy.

Worst: It made the fandom very unhappy and I don’t like picking sides. It feels like watching your many parents get divorced for two hours.

Doctor Strange (2016) -

Best: The magic looks really fucking cool in this movie. Also, the ending with Dormammu is up there for one of my favorite endings of an mcu movie. Having Doctor Strange actually outsmart the villain instead of actually fighting him is endlessly more satisfying.

Worst: Could not tell you a thing else about this movie other than I heard Tilda Swinton plays a character that’s probably not supposed to be white.

Guardians of the Galaxy Vol. 2 (2017) -

Best: Guys, I gotta come clean about something. I actually like this one better than Volume 1. I know, I know, a good majority of people do not feel this way, but I feel a lot more emotionally attached to the movie, and that’s mainly because of two characters: Yondu Udonta and Rocket Racoon. Rocket realizing that he’s an asshole but his found family still loves him gets me, man. I can’t help it. Helps that Ego is a great villain as well. Also the cinematography is some of the best in the mcu.

Worst: No Howard the Duck.

Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017) -

Best: I think the best thing about this movie is just the solidness of it all. No one part stands out as the best because most everything about this movie is pretty damn good. Michael Keaton will knock your socks off, go watch it.

Worst: Donald Glover is in it to tease a Miles Morales reveal, BUT NOTHING HAS HAPPENED ABOUT IT SINCE.

Thor: Ragnarok (2017) -

Best: Taika Waititi knows how to do shit right, lemme tell ya. Taking away Thor’s hammer from the beginning was probably one of the smartest choices in the movie, and this is a movie of smart choices.

Worst: Jeff Goldblum isn’t in it more.

Black Panther (2018) -

Best: Erik Killmonger is easily the best villain in a Marvel movie, and you can quote me on that. An amazing performance from Michael B. Jordan. It’s also the first Marvel movie I saw in theatres (I know, I was very late to the game)

Worst: Everett K. Ross is CIA propaganda and the last fight scene on the train tracks looks like shit.

Avengers: Infinity War (2018) -

Best: It’s really hard to sum up exactly what my thoughts are on this movie. I think one of the movie’s best qualities is the bigness of it. This movie feels huge, there’s a lot of different stuff to love here. If you like Wakanda, there’s a whole epic battle set in Wakanda. If you’re more a fan of the space stuff, we got a whole lotta space stuff. The best part of this movie is there’s probably gonna be something that everyone can enjoy packed in here.

Worst: I also think the bigness of this movie is also one of it’s larger weaknesses. Because there’s so much stuff in this movie, not all of it is fully fleshed out. Tony Stark gets a lot to do in this movie, but Steve Rogers sort of feels sidelined at parts. There’s a perfect balance that I don’t think was quite hit.

Ant-man and The Wasp (2018) -

Best: I still really love Paul Rudd in this movie, and I think his relationship with Cassie is still really cute. World’s Greatest Grandma indeed.

Worst: This movie really had its work cut out for itself, coming off the heels of Infinity War, so it sort of falls short in that respect. I don’t want to criticize it too harshly, it is what it is, nothing insanely memorable.

Captain Marvel (2019) -

Best: I still think this is a pretty good movie, despite what a lot of people think. I struggle a lot with believing that I have to prove myself to others, so having Carol finally realize that she doesn’t have anything to prove to anyone was really important to me, and probably a lot of other women.

Worst: There were parts where I wasn’t as engaged, like the scenes in the Kree empire. That made some of the movie feel off to me, it’s a bit unbalanced.

Avengers: Endgame (2019) -

Best: This movie 100% achieves what it sets out to do, and that is to be a huge cinematic event. I don’t even really see this movie as a movie, it’s more like one huge experience. My viewing had one of the most energetic crowds I’ve ever seen a movie with.

Worst: I don’t really think this movie holds up to multiple re-watches. Granted, I saw it in theatres three times. I don’t think any subsequent viewings are ever going to pack that same punch that my first viewing had, and that makes it harder to come back to. Also Steve had a totally lame ending.

Spider-man: Far From Home (2019) -

Best: After ending on such a downer note in the last movie, this felt like a weight being lifted off my chest. Jake Gyllenhaal gives an insanely energetic performance that I absolutely adore. (Also seeing it with my dad was fun, he would nudge me every time they switched locations to tell me he’d been there)(Also when I saw it with my sibling a kid ran out of the theatre during the Mysterio mind-fuck sequence, some just can’t handle that lifestyle)

Worst: Peter Parker and MJ remind me of how perpetually single I am.

#movie review #minor spoilers #mcu #marvel #marvel review

9 notes · View notes

ljandersen · 4 years

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you’d be willing to share a little (or a lot! I’m not picky) about your process for writing Burning Barriers? Things you researched, things that gave you inspiration, any of it. I’m having a blast reading it and I’m so curious about what all went into writing it! (And it’s totally okay if you don’t want to! I just had to let you know how much I’m enjoying it!)

Wow! I’m incredibly flattered by this ask. I think it’s the first time I’ve gotten an ask about my writing that wasn’t part of a game. I was ecstatic to see it in my inbox. Thank you for taking the time and interest to send it. “Burning Barriers” is my favorite posted story. I love talking about it. I’m humbled when anyone actually wants to know something about it. Anyway, seriously, I appreciate getting this ask. It made my day!

On to the actual question though: The inspiration for writing the book had a lot to do with what lead into me writing fanfiction. “Burning Barriers” was the first piece of fanfiction I wrote and the first novel-length story I finished. In a lot of ways, it was a turning point in my writing. I’d written my whole life, but for the most part, I’d gradually given it up during grad school and internship rotations. It turns out, though, corporate healthcare can be quite dehumanizing and impersonal. My career wasn’t what I thought. I decided I needed to return to what I loved doing, which was writing.

Initially, I decided it was time to write that masterpiece of literary fiction I’d always planned on writing. I made detailed outlines and character sheets. I had each beat perfectly aligned for a four-act story structure. I had the character arcs. Subplots were variations on the theme and parallel to the main story, just like the writing books recommended. Everything was set to finally write The Masterpiece. And . . .

I stalled out.

I was too overwhelmed to write this overblown piece of art. I knew I couldn’t live up to my own expectations. I’d decided to return to writing, but nothing as happening.

I loved writing, but I also always loved video games. I’d played all the Dragon Age games as each came out. I had no idea Mass Effect existed. In 2018, my sister came across it. After playing the ME trilogy, she recommended it to me. I loved it. With the three games tying together and having the same protagonist, who spoke and had a name, I became enthralled. Then came the ending with Shepard dying on the Crucible.

The credits rolled. Moon boy had just asked about “The Shepard,” and this was it. Was Shepard alive or dead? What about her love interest, in this case, Kaidan? What about their story? What about Shepard’s story as a person? It just ended. Cut off.

While I appreciate the bittersweet nature of the ending, I didn’t have any closure. I kept thinking, “How would I have ended it?” There were a few elements in particular that I thought would be interesting to explore more: fraternization and biotics. It’s always interested me when a super hero loses her power. What if Shepard couldn’t use her biotics? As for fraternization, I understood it being dismissed in ME-3, but what about after? They want to be together but rules are falling back into place. It’s always interesting when two people are forbidden to be together by external forces. There were so many interesting way to play out these different ideas.

I kept thinking about this hypothetical ending for my game. Finally, I decided I should just write it. It was going to be a short story for myself. I just needed it out of my system. Maybe it would be a good warm up to finally writing The Masterpiece. I started writing my ending for ME.

I had a very vague plot in mind. As I started writing, the plot became more than just a vehicle for finding closure with Shepard and Kaidan’s love story. I had only planned on writing Shepard’s POV, but as I drew closer to a section in the story that I knew Shepard couldn’t tell, I realized I needed someone else to take over the story. Skipping forward in time as I initially planned wouldn’t be satisfying. I decided to make the story three parts, and Kaidan would tell part two. I would return back to Shepard’s POV for the last part.

I was nervous switching POV and thought a lot about how Shepard and Kaidan would tell their story differently. Shepard is fast, goal-oriented, no-nonsense, and avoids uncomfortable, emotional rumination. Kaidan, however, is more self-aware and honest with his feelings. He’s reflective, cautious, and has a deeper internal life. The idea of contrasting the POV while keeping a consistent narrative voice was a interesting challenge. In the end, switching POV didn’t turn out to be as difficult as I thought, and I really enjoyed writing a part of the story from Kaidan’s eyes.

As I approached part three, where Kaidan’s POV would end, I realized dropping his side would feel disappointing in a way. The story had become as much Kaidan’s story as it was Shepard’s. They needed to tell the ending together. The decision to alternate POV in part three even gave the story cohesion: 1. Shepard 2. Kaidan 3. Shepard and Kaidan. It felt right. I was surprised I hadn’t thought of that from the beginning.

The story was starting to become big. Somewhere into writing part 1, I realized this was a more serious endeavor than a throw-away short story. So I got serious. I knew my ending for the story, and I decided to dissect apart what would make the ending truly satisfying. What were the barriers to it feeling the best it could feel?

Once I identified those elements, it influenced the story quite a bit. I had to include new pieces to the story, like Kaidan’s family, and I had to emphasize character arcs in some of the secondary characters. I also realized the thing keeping Shepard and Kaidan apart had to be more than fraternization regs. I had to be something internal in addition to external to feel believable.

As I wrote, there was one big development I hadn’t planned but that felt organic. It worked for the character arc I was creating, and I let it play out. While there was one big surprise, a lot of the story’s details sprang up and were little surprises while I was writing. I knew the points I wanted to connect, but I discovered the details as I wrote it. It was like I had this skeleton, but the discovery process as I wrote gave it the flesh and beauty of being something worthwhile.

The story’s ending was everything I hoped, which was a huge feat for me. I took a long time reflecting on how all the elements could come together at once in a way that felt right. I needed to incorporate a lot of external elements into one moment: the Mass Effect shard, the Scorpion terrorist leader, an object they’re looking for in part 3, and all the secondary characters (Council, Alliance, Shepard’s companions). I needed it to bring Shepard and Kaidan’s internal conflict keeping them apart to a moment of clarity, which would be easy if it was just about realizing they loved each other. They already knew that. Shepard needed to confront her fears and realize her false reasoning wasn’t just wrong, but that actually the opposite was real truth. It was a lot to achieve in one ending, but as far as I’m concerned, I felt like I was successful in bringing everything together into one moment. I was able to resolve many questions, external and internal, with one answer.

Honestly, I have compared Burning Barrier’s ending to my current big WIP and felt like I can’t live up to my own benchmark of satisfaction in an ending. Granted, all of that’s really talking up my own ending, and readers may or may not feel like the ending brought everything together in a satisfying way. But for me, I was pleased with the ending to a story I was telling myself. Since I had never finished a novel-sized story, it was huge moment.

I wrote "Burning Barriers” in notebooks over the course of four months. I had no idea of the word count when I finished. It all come together so naturally and simply, I actually thought my story would fall short of being novel-sized. All three parts together I expected to fall into the novella range. I was wrong. I started typing it up and watched the word count climb. This story that felt so simple and quick to me turned out not only to be novel-sized, but each part was novel-sized. I was thunderstruck. I realized: not only had I finished my first novel, I finished three of them! It was huge for me.

Writing fanfiction and not trying to live up to this inflated, self-imposed ideal of creating “Art” had finally set me free. I could finally write and finish a novel. I even did it with a method I never expected to work for me. Being an organized and kind of methodical person, I always assumed outlining was the best way for me. It was the responsible, better approach. It turns out, knowing my direction but finding my way as I go was what worked best. It gave me joy in discovering, and knowing I could edit it later, freed me from every word being perfection in the first draft.

“Burning Barriers” had three major drafts. After writing the story in notebooks, I knew what I needed to emphasize and cut away as I typed it into a second draft. I could foreshadow and set up the ending. I could fill in missing scenes. It was a major overhaul. I then read through the whole story a third time focusing more on the writing-level, sentences and wording choice. Then it was done.

Now I needed to do something with it. After a certain point of writing this story, maybe halfway, I realized I was putting enough effort into it, I actually wanted someone to read it. My sister, who had recommended Mass Effect to me, was also a writer. As I wrote and finished editing my story, I had her in mind as the one person who would read my story. Unfortunately, fanfiction is stigmatized and on a much lower level than if I wrote The Masterpiece. After I was finished with this story, by sister felt embarrassed for me writing fanfiction. The idea of reading fanfiction was demeaning for a serious writer and it wasn’t her thing. It’s fair to feel that way, I suppose, but I was disappointed.

My other sister who isn’t a gamer but was aware of fanfiction as a thing suggested I post online. The game had been out for so long, I doubted Mass Effect fans were still reading fanfic, but I decided to try. I had written 300 K words that no one would ever read but me if I let it lay forgotten on the hard drive.

I went ahead and posted it on FFN. I made each part it’s own book, and I posted all three books and all the chapters all at once. Then I sat back and waited. And waited. And waited. Nothing. It was deflating. I had a few favorites or follows scattered here and there, but it felt pretty silent. I could see stats that some people probably had read the whole way through, but that was it for spending months writing this 300 K fic. I actually felt worse than before I’d posted it online, because this felt more like a rejection. My fear, my story actually being awful, could actually be true.

At the time, I didn’t know anything about fanfiction culture. I didn’t know people posted before they finished a story or that it was common practice to post chapter by chapter to gain readership. I had no idea my posting method could be playing a role in why the stories were lost to the void.

My sister who had suggested posting online recommended looking for Facebook groups to information on other places to post. I joined some FB groups and asked for recommendations where else to post. I heard about AO3. Now, I still didn’t know about this whole posting chapter-by-chapter thing, so I posted my story on AO3 the same way as before. Unlike FFN, I decided this time to keep all the parts together, since so much of the story relied on in-jokes and references from earlier parts. Plus, the story and plot arc were made to connect over the whole story. Other than that, I posted “Burning Barriers” as one giant chunk of 124 chapters, like I had on FFN, and sat back again. This time there was one difference: someone commented.

I got a comment from someone who read the first chapter, liked it, and said she would put it on her reading list. That one comment changed my whole experience. I replied to the comment, and I through a back and forth via email met my now very good friend @ripley95things . She introduced me to another wonderful friend @rpgwarrior4824 . Their comments on “Burning Barriers” made all the difference. I went from feeling kind of devastated and being embarrassed about my story to being glad I wrote it. It was a complete 180 just by having two people who cared. It made all the difference.

They welcomed me into the fandom. I learned so much about the fanfic culture and started reading other Shenko fanfics. I haven’t stopped since. With all the encouragement I got from talking with them, I decided to write more Shenko fanfiction myself even. I hadn’t planned to write anything more than “Burning Barriers,” but suddenly I had a new plot-heavy story I was writing (am still writing *sigh*). I wrote a one-shot and some lighter, shorter multichapter fics. I eventually joined Tumblr. But it all started with “Burning Barriers.”

That’s a lot of extra information on “Burning Barriers” than just my inspiration and approach to writing, but haha, I guess, I got on a roll. The story has a lot of meaning to me, and the history surround it feels integrated into its DNA. If you read this far, I really appreciate you reading not only a very long book with “Burning Barriers,” but also a very long monologue about the very long book. Haha. Thank you!

Anyway, I’ll end here. Thank you for your wonderful question. It was fun to reflect back on this story that has so much meaning to me. I appreciate your interest in “Burning Barriers.” It means more than I can say that you read my story, and even more, to know you’re interested enough to ask a question about it (thought you probably didn’t expect how much you’d get! Lol! :D) Thanks again!

#my writing #mass effect fanfiction #writing ask #Burning Barriers #Thank you so much for the ask!

22 notes · View notes

cameronomicon · 5 years

Text

Year One

On a hot Saturday in May of 2012, my ex and I found ourselves in sudden, standstill traffic. We were on our way out to West Covina to meet a dog named Hank who we were considering for adoption, but as the minutes passed and the horns blared it became increasingly likely that we might not make it there at all.

“Do you just want to go home? We can cancel,” I said, irritated.

“No, let’s go. We should meet him.”

Traffic eventually eased and we made our way east, where we met Hank in the parking lot of a Petco. Erin fell in love with him immediately. I was less charmed but I thought he would make a good addition to our family. We brought him home later that day, renamed him Bodie, and he’s been my pal ever since.

In the summer of 2018, six incredibly long years later, I was in a free fall. Erin and I had divorced and I was living with Bodie in a small studio apartment. Work was chaos, and negativity and self-hatred ruled me absolutely. Alcoholism, combined with weed smoking and burgeoning Xanax abuse, had taken control of my waking life. I had begun to drink in the morning and spent nearly every minute of each weekend completely fucked up. The darkness and despair that I felt was inescapable, like I was trying to outrun the shadow of a sunset.

If it hadn’t been for Bodie, I would have tried to kill myself. The obligation to stick around to take care of him was very powerful, even though I thought about dying every single day. I actually messaged my ex to ask if she would promise to take care of him if anything ever happened to me, since that wasn’t written out anywhere in our divorce. Though I tried to word this as casually as possible, I can’t imagine how bizarre the message must have read.

I mention all of this because that one decision in May 2012, to not turn back despite sudden and unexpected obstacles, likely saved my life. Funny how things work out.

When you’re reading this, I’ve been sober for one year. I’m writing it beforehand, which might seem like tempting fate for anyone who has experience with addiction. I believe I will get there, but if you never see this, I guess I didn’t make it.

The past 365 days mark the longest period of continuous sobriety I have managed since I first tried to clean up about 14 years ago. I was able to stay sober for one or two years from 2006-2007, but I will admit that there were times I got drunk during those periods even though I claimed continuous sobriety. I think that’s the first time I’ve ever admitted this.

To say that alcoholism blindsided me would be a lie. I knew from the first buzz that something was different, because alcohol felt like the most incredible gift I’d ever received. Something inside my brain exploded, sending brilliance and beauty and confidence all throughout me. I was, as I’ve said many times before, finally comfortable in my own skin. I would spend the next 16 years trying to get this feeling back. I never did. No one ever does.

I would like to tell you that getting sober is a ticket to happiness for an alcoholic or addict, but unfortunately it is not. One reason that sobriety is so hard and why so many people fail is because life continues on regardless of us. When we take away the things that we relied on to kill the fear, anxiety, or pain we would have experienced otherwise, we are left feeling utterly defenseless. It is much easier for me to obliterate my feelings with alcohol than to process what it means to live and succeed and fail and fuck up and love and lose and simply exist in the world. To paraphrase what many have said: quitting drinking is easy, living life is the hard part. This is my way of saying that the past year has been very difficult.

I’ve thought about drinking many times, especially during bouts of severe depression, which have mercifully been in short supply. But the urge to destroy is real, and I’ve thought that if I do go back to drinking I should make sure to get enough so that it will kill me. It scares me to think how easy it would be.

These thoughts always pass, which is the best kept secret in the world for an alcoholic. In the moment, the thought extends forever in front of you, an endless ribbon of road that is impossible to reckon with let alone travel, and the only thing to do--the inevitable thing to do--is to drink. But I am always wrong. The thought, the urge, passes. The traffic eases. The mirage dissolves before my eyes, always. It will for you, too, if you’re struggling.

What sobriety has given me is freedom. Unless you’ve experienced it firsthand either in your own struggle or in that of a loved one, it can be hard to understand just how much of an alcoholic’s life is devoted to the stuff. The act of drinking consumes only a small fraction of the energy expended in this pursuit; far more intensive are the efforts to acquire booze in sufficient amounts (and at different locations if you’re trying to preserve your dignity), the internal battle with feelings of guilt and shame, and the absolutely titanic task of hiding it all from the rest of the world. It is fucking stressful. I am free of all of that now, and it is an incredible gift. Even on the worst days I am able to live my life unshackled to alcohol. I carry no plastic shopping bags chirping with empty bottles to the recycling bin anymore. I do not double over in panic when faced with simple challenges. The successes, the failures, the highs and lows--they all belong to me now.

For whoever needs to hear this, freedom is also possible for you. You deserve that life, even if you think you don’t. You deserve to be free.

I remain deeply flawed. I still act unthinkingly and spend my time more selfishly than I should. I’m still impatient, petty, and I cling to a few resentments which do nothing but poison my soul. I’m crass and lazy. Most days I find myself feeling shattered and disoriented, like I’ve been in hibernation for the past decade and have just emerged to a life where I feel completely out of place. But I’m trying to be better. Even if I fail, I will continue to try to become myself. I will redefine or rediscover what it means to be a person who exists with this world, not despite it.

Year one is just the beginning, and god willing I have a long journey ahead of me. My body is healed, my mind is sharper, my spirit is strong, but none of this is guaranteed beyond the boundary of any given day. Sometimes I take that for granted. But I am grateful for the gift of a free life. I hope I don’t blow it.

As I’m writing this, the windows are open and a warm summer breeze fills the apartment. It’s quiet outside, which is a welcome change from the usual. There is a calmness to everything around me. This time last year, the blinds would have been tightly drawn, the lights turned out, and even though the air conditioner was running constantly, I was likely drenched in sweat. I often vomited what I solid food I did eat, my hands quaked, and my heart raced. I felt like the incarnation of doom.

But now, Bodie is asleep at the foot of my bed, and on her condo slumbers Church, the alleycat I’ve adopted. She lived under the building and used to play with me and Bodie when we’d go outside, and for about a year several of my neighbors would take turns feeding and caring for her. Last November, three neighborhood cats were killed when my leasing company failed to properly evacuate them from under the building during a fumigation. It was ghastly and horrible and sad. Church was spared, so I decided to bring her into my home. She deserved better than a life on the street where she could be so easily and thoughtlessly killed, and now she is a part of the family.

That one decision, to bring her indoors and share my life with her, has brought me so much joy. I love to watch Church just being herself. I delight in the alternating cool and frenetic energy she brings, and to see how she plays with Bodie in the safety of the apartment. When I take him outside, Church will sit by the door and cry until we come back.

I do not have much, but what I do have is incredibly precious. The three of us live simply, and we are safe and healthy and we have each other. Right now, that is more than I could have ever dreamed of, and quite possibly a life that might never have happened at all. And, even though I often get sidetracked thinking about what I still don’t have or what I’ve lost, I can’t deny how miraculous all of this truly is.

Funny how things work out.

#sobriety #recovery #alcoholism #hope

1 note · View note

funkzpiel · 5 years

Text

Fictober 2018 | Day 31

Anon Request | Panic Attack, ABO, Hurt/Comfort -- Gavin900 TW: Body Horror, Mentions of Past Rape This gets a lot darker than clowns... I didn’t intend for it to, but it sort of just spiraled into what it is. Hopefully I didn’t butcher it.

It took him a stupid amount of time to catch on. Later, he’ll blame it on heat brain, but for now there is no time. He was feverish and it is winter, and it was easy enough to assume that there was a chill creeping into his bones and sapping his strength with illness rather than admitting to himself the truth.

The truth was that he was going into heat, a truth he was blindsided by because he had not had one in years thanks to his suppressants. Not just trashy side alley shit either; medical grade suppressants. The sort that kept you heat free for months, not weeks at best, days at worst. There had been a recall, but not in his area. He hadn’t thought anything of it.

He had gone to work because he thought it was just the common cold, something a healthy dose of dayquil could handle and a short day at the office.

But the first finger of sleek that seeped from his hole froze him on the spot, back rigid like a street pole, swaying only to the tune of his utter horror. It couldn’t be, he thought. Sweat, maybe -- but it wasn’t sweat. He could tell by the thickness of it, the way it crawled over his taint and down his thigh so lazily. He was going into heat. In the precinct. His years of obscuring his status would be over; there was no covering this with “I slept with a horny omega last night” stories.

They would know. And they would look at him as people always looked at him; like meat, like a thing, like he wasn’t anything more than a hole and a womb.

He didn’t even realize how hard his heart was thundering until someone came up beside him and took him by the shoulder with a soft, “Gavin, your heart rate is elevated, are you--”

He shakes the hand off with blind fury, eyes wild when he spins on heel to snarl, “don’t fucking touch me!” like a wounded animal. He runs before they can say a word about it. Runs for the only thing that’s ever helped even as -- somewhere -- he belatedly recognizes the face of the person who had reached for him, but he doesn’t stop.

He runs.

His skin was prickling. He felt like he was on fire, but his skin also felt frozen; like a drowned soul from a ship at sea, no one to hear his calls in the debris as he sank into the ink and mire. Heats were like that: like a glacier. Inconspicuous at first glance -- a fever, a chill, a need. Sore bones and muscles that ached. But beneath the darkness of the water it floated so innocently in lay a maze of treacherous hormones and sensations built to sink the ships of an Omega’s control, stranding them in an ocean of desire and instinct and drooling wombs, eager for a thick dick to knot them. He could feel the water filling his ship, floor by floor, robbing him of his sanity.

He needed to wake up.

So he ran to the showers even though he couldn’t breathe; air whistling through his lungs like crushed screams. Luck granted him one mercy -- the showers were empty.

He turned on the nearest tab with hands that shook too hard, too weak, and did not even bother strip his skin of his clothing. He couldn’t. A layer lost was a layer closer to being fucked like the Omega he so desperately pretended not to be, and he couldn’t afford it even as panic lit every pore on fire, even as his heat burned him from the inside out.

It took a minute for the chill of the water to penetrate his thick coat, his hoodie, his shirt, his skin. His clothing weighed him down like a death sentence, making his knees shake harder to hold him up. He pressed his forehead to the tile and screwed shut his eyes and tried to swallow the helpless gibbering building in his throat. He wanted to scream, but he couldn’t draw a long enough breath to manage more than a pathetic, whimpering wheeze. His chest felt like a vice keen on killing him, like an elephant crushing him slowly, like a heart attack. He almost welcomed it; at least then it’d be over.

He focused on counting the drops of water that hit his head. Focused on getting to ten before drawing in a breath for another ten before exhaling for another.

Nothing helped. It had been too long since the last time. He reached for the suggestions his therapist had offered after -- after --

A sob bubbled up his throat as he remembered all the hands that had taken him, touched him, robbed him of what the world had tried to portray to him as romantic but was merely animalistic and cruel. Six Alphas and even a Beta, taking advantage of him when he was young, and stupid, and his heats too new and irregular to properly track.

The way they had stretched him rung like a funeral bell in his bones, mimicked by the natural slackening of his hole as his heat unfurled into a proper blaze with every passing second.

They’d find him, they always did. They’d find him, and here -- in this place of justice and law and order -- he’d be raped again. Raped, ruined, demoted, fired--

“Gavin.”

He swallowed down the hurt, wrecked sound that threatened to spill from his lips, clenching it behind grit teeth, and braced himself. He whirled, teeth bared and snarling, spitting mad, hoping beyond hope he could simply intimidate the Alphas away. He was not soft, he was not cute, he was not some soft cunt to be fucked and thrown away and forgotten, and he would not be taken again, he wouldn’t, he--

It was Nines.

He stood a good few feet away, a polite distance. A quick look confirmed that the door was locked; barred from the inside. A towel stuffed into the crease to prevent his scent from escaping, no one would know he was in here. So Nines was selfish, he turned his glare back upon him.

Fine, one was easier to fight.

Only... Nines wasn’t approaching him. The man didn’t even look remotely hungry; pale eyes limpid and passive as ever as he waited for... what?

“What the fuck do you want?” Gavin snarled, “Get out!”

“You’re in heat,” Nines said like Gavin might had fucking missed it.

“No shit,” was all he could manage to snarl back, too furious for something witty.

“I can help--” but Nines’ words melted into an echo of another time, another man’s promise when he collapsed in public. The way he ‘helpfully’ took him inside. The way he invited others to help him too. So lost is he in the memory, he barely catches Nines say, “I’ve turned off all programming that would recognize your second gender, Gavin. I won’t touch you. I just want to keep you safe.”

“Safe,” Gavin spits, because he hasn’t been safe since the day he presented. He was foolish for thinking suppressants made him invisible. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Yes. I’ll watch the door. When everyone is gone, I’ll take you home to finish your heat alone, in peace. I’ll guard the door. No one will touch you again.”

Again.

His stomach fell, and before he could stop himself his knees were bending, sliding him down the wall to sit in a puddle of falling shower water and draining slick.

“You know,” he gasped, then harder, “You knew.”

“I read your file when we became partners.”

“It’s not in my fucking file!”

“It is in your medical and psych evaluation.”

Simple, brisk; as though his breach of privacy were no more significant than cleaning off a desk. He was furious. No, that wasn’t quite right. He wanted to be furious. He reached for it, even, only his anger -- so often close to his skin -- was not there.

Instead there was only relief. Because androids could actually fucking control themselves. And for once in his life, someone knew, someone saw him, and understood.

He watched Nines standing at attention before him, hands clasped behind his back. There was no hunger there, no wild Alpha dominance. Only a steady, tempered presence and... concern, Gavin realized. He wondered when he started being able to read Nines well enough to see the distinction in his stoic face; but it was there.

Nines backed up until he was across the showers, parallel to Gavin. He sat slowly, a dry mimicry of Gavin’s position, and remained silent.

“You don’t have to,” Gavin tried, one last ditch effort at keeping his core together, at not admitting he needed help.

He wondered what he would say. Perhaps a fake attempt at repairing Gavin’s pride with a soft “I know” when they both knew very well that while Gavin could maybe stop one Alpha, he couldn’t stop an entire precinct of them. Maybe a gentle “I’d hate myself if I didn’t,” as though Nines were capable of something so utterly human as self-judgement; that sort of thinking wasn’t conducive for the mission, even if his missions were self identified now.

Perhaps it was merely that Gavin was useless right now, and Nines needed him in one piece. Few cops were willing to oust human resources for silicon replacements after all, maybe--

“Do you want me to go?”

Gavin froze. It was like a bird finally singing at dawn, breaking the suffocating silence of a long, dead night. Gavin opened his eyes and for the first time felt truly capable of seeing the man -- his partner -- sitting across from him.

No one had ever asked, before. He always told how to handle it, as though he were a child. Go to your room with this toy, hide away, let me ease your pain, let me fuck it away, be a good little omega and obey.

Did he want Nines to go away?

“No.”

Nines simply nodded. He needed nothing more than that. To him, it was simple. Gavin needed help. Gavin did not want to be touched. Gavin did not want anyone else to touch him. Gavin wanted to ride out his heat in peace, on his terms, and forget it ever happened. Like a list, Nines quantified it, analyzed it, and then set about executing it: protect Gavin. Don’t touch him. Keep him safe until it’s done.

Gavin scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of his wet, chilled palms and curled his knees to his chest as though that could hide what the shower couldn’t.

Nines never touched him. Even when night fell and the precinct cleared -- the night shift in another part of the building -- Nines still did not touch him. He merely asked if Gavin wanted to go home, and when Gavin nodded -- too untrusting of the strength of his own voice -- asked if he needed help walking.

He didn’t, so Nines still did not touch him.

He unbound the door and ensured no one awaited them outside. He guided Gavin to Gavin’s vehicle and revoked him of only one privilege -- Gavin could not drive. And while it smarted and stung, Gavin knew it was for safety and not a barb toward his gender. He swallowed it down and tossed Nines his keys.

Nines already knew where he lived, of course he did.

He escorted him to his door, and while part of Gavin hated being guarded like a flower, he also appreciated one feeling he had not had in years: he was not worried that an Alpha would sneak up on him tonight. That they’d use their voice and their presence and their scent to worsen his condition until he was slick-dumb and whining, ass in the air.

Nines waiting in the doorway when Gavin entered and asked, “Do you want me to stay?”

This time Gavin answered quickly.

“Yes.”

So he did. He stayed on the couch all three days of Gavin’s heat. Pride and pain kept Gavin for asking for him, for his dick, during the worst of it. Nines never knocked to join him. Merely left him water and food occasionally outside the door and said as much before disappearing to watch the door again. He had blocked off the front door with a towel again, to catch the worst of his scent. He waited, silent and understanding.

And when it was done, he was there.

Gavin stood in the hall that led to his family room sheepishly, unfamiliar with this specific discomfort -- gratitude. He rubbed at his neck, freshly showered and in his comfort clothing, the baggier and softer, the better. He searched for the words to say, but dumbly could find nothing better than, “Thanks... for uh... you know.”

Nines nodded as though those simple, hollow words were in fact paragraphs. He rose from his couch -- dented from his presence -- and said, “It was no problem, detective.”

Detective.

In Nines’ eyes, nothing had changed. Suddenly Gavin felt the world tip beneath his feet, convinced that they had all gotten it wrong all this time. Androids were not a menace to throw away, they were not sentient toasters stealing jobs. Androids were... the best of them, the best of humanity. People tempered down and filtered of qualities until only the things that mattered remained: kindness, focus, respect.

Gavin scratched at three days of stubble to mask the shattered sound of his breath and nodded, unable to fathom the words to what he was feeling. He couldn’t catch Nines’ eyes, but he forced himself when the android began to bid his farewell, evidently sure that he was encroaching on Gavin’s privacy now that he was no longer needed.

“Don’t,” Gavin said before he could stop himself.

Nines stilled like a pond, beautiful and patient; older than he looked. Perhaps he was. Perhaps Gavin was staring at centuries of human wisdom, refined to a concentrated body, rather than an android of a year.

“At least let me make your breakfast. Christ, do you even fucking eat?” Gavin grumbles quickly, his gratitude minced by too many years of loneliness and fear and pain. He winces, angry at himself, but stills when Nines smiles.

“I can eat,” Nines said. His smile wasn’t like Connor’s -- puppy wide with too much eyes. It was tempered as all of him was, subdued and yet somehow more meaningful that way. “I would like that.”

“Good,” Gavin said, “I hope you like omelets, it’s all I can fucking do.”

Nines chuckles, and for the first time in years, Gavin breathes.

#Gavin900 #Reed900 #TW: Mentions of Past Rape #TW: Body Horror #gavin reed #gavin x rk900 #rk900 #connor rk900 #rk900 connor #detroit: become human #detroit become human #dbh #Omega!Reed #Omega!Gavin #mini fic #fictober 2018 #fictober18 #fictober

49 notes · View notes

hcneymilkks · 5 years

Text

24K Jinhong | The Purge

REPOSTED FROM WATTPAD!

[ALL P.O.V's THAT HAVE NO NAME ON TOP BEFORE THE SENTENCE STARTS IS Y/N's WORDS AND THOUGHTS.]

[ALSO, SOME OF THE DESCRIPTION IS FROM 24K's MV "STILL 24K" AND "BINGO". THE SAME MEMBERS IN THOSE MV's WILL BE USED HERE. CREDITS TO THE TRAILER OF "THE PURGE" AS INSPIRATION FOR THIS IMAGINE.]

[STARS (***) WILL REPRESENT NEW P.O.V's WHILE DASHES (---) WILL REPRESENT CONTINUING P.O.V.'s]

[Y/N means your name and Y/F/N means your friend's name.]

The poster flapped vigorously in the wind, one corner already peeling off. In bright red letters painted to look like streaks of blood, it said 'On October 13th, 2018, all crime will be legal for twelve hours, starting at midnight. Be prepared, for you don't know what's coming for you.'

News stations around the city were announcing this very important yet dangerous day, encouraging us fellow citizens to lock our doors and hide. As if it would help. People in this century know how to pick locks, or even easier, blow up the whole front door.

Once the twelve hours end, all citizens are to resume their daily lives like normal, only some may have lost valuables, doors, and even people. No one can report the crime, for the criminals are safe under the law, The Purge Law.

"The Purge Law states that any crime, whether small or extreme is legal. Any persons killed are given a regular funeral, no compensation may be given. All weapons used are granted permission by the government to be registered yet the files will be destroyed after twenty-four hours. No one is protected, everyone is vulnerable on this day." The newscaster read, making me chuckle.

History has shown that The Purge has been going on for one hundred years, starting in 1918 when the Ku Klux Klan in the United States had reformed. Their goal was to use violence against Blacks, Roman Catholics, Immigrants, and anyone who supported giving minority groups equality rights. Their vision was to have a White Christian supremacy, just like how Hitler in World War Two wanted Germans to be the Master Race.

But now, people have used it just to reduce the population, or to get revenge on a family member or friend, or anyone who just doesn't fit in society.

Coming from Japan, where little to no crime happens, I wanted to see it in action. Yes, I wanted to leave myself as vulnerable as I can, even if it means I'm asking for a death wish.

***

[JinHong]

October 10th, 2018

11:09 PM

JeongUk's garage was filled to the brim with boxes on each side, a couch in the middle, and a table with weapons.

Hui was using a cloth to wipe down a simple handgun, one of his favorites.

"So," Cory, the appointed leader started. "Does anyone have a specific person in mind to target?"

"Just anyone who gets in my way," Kisu says, twirling a dagger around his fingers with careful yet fast movements.

JeongUk nods in agreement.

"Changsun, Hongseob?"

"I mean, I want to steal rather than kill because you can sell the valuable items in exchange for money and maybe invent something new," Changsun says shyly.

"That's a good idea," Hongseob says and uses the computer. "According to Google Maps, there are many jewelry places in Portland so it's either we can split up or go altogether."

Cory puts a hand under his chin. That signifies he is thinking of a plan. "I believe it's best to go in all together. That way if anyone tries to attack, we all protect one another."

"But doesn't the law state that all of us are vulnerable no matter what? It's like saying not to trust in one another and only focus on ourselves." Changsun explains.

"What? Do you think we are going to just abandon one another? Or are you the one who's going to abandon us?" Kisu says angrily and Changsun gulps in fear, probably regretting speaking up.

"Easy now Kisu, I need you to save that energy for tomorrow," Cory says. He turns to Changsun. "Changsun, there's no need to worry, we are all in this together okay? We will protect one another."

"Let's go till the end." Changsun mumbles.

Cory turns to me. "JinHong, usually you're the most talkative. What? Cat's got your tongue?"

I playfully smirk. "Nope. I just wanted everyone to have a chance to speak what they want to."

"Now they have. So, what specific person do you want to target?

"Well, remember when I joined this gang group for one reason only?" I ask.

Cory nodded. "You said your parents died in The Purge when you were only nine."

"I found the people responsible for my parent's death."

"But the law states that-" Changsun started but I interrupted him.

"I know. The law states that you can't press charges or throw them in jail or something like that. But that's not it. I saw in old records that in 2008 they moved to Japan and stayed there until they died."

"So...if they died, who are you targeting?" Kisu asks, clearly annoyed.

I smirk. "They were husband and wife, and from reading many books, couples want to have children. The wife gave birth to a daughter, who they both kept their secret from her. But, she's here, and I want her. I want her to know the truth of what her parents have done. I want her to know how it feels to have your heart ripped out and your breath stuck in your throat. I want her to die a slow and painful death."

---

"Hey baby," Chun-Li kisses me on the lips. I feel Kisu shooting glares at me but I ignore it.

"What's up? Anything new with the girl?" I ask her. Along with Hongseob, Chun-Li is an expert of hacking and tracking down people.

"Not much. All I know is her name, how old she is, what city she lives in, and her hobbies."

"Spill," I said.

"Her name is Ji Y/N. She's nineteen years old, she currently resides in Portland, Oregon and loves to read and write."

I smirk and kiss Chun-Li on the lips happily. "Get ready baby, for the 13th will be the best day of your life!" I pick her up and bring her inside one of JeongUk's many rooms, with her laughing.

***

October 12th, 2018

3:34 PM

I walked along the streets of Portland, letting the cool air surround my skin. It was like giving me an extra layer of protection from the harsh rays of the sun and from the scorching heat. Many people smiled and laughed as they walked, but it was a shame to see that all of this would be gone in less than twenty-four hours.

The bookstore was calling me so I entered roamed around. Fairy tales, Mystery, Thriller, Crime, Murder, Romance and many more genres swarmed around my eyes. Oh, how I wanted to have all of them. I smirked. Stealing books was the one thing I have been dying to do since I've heard about The Purge.

At the corner of my eye, I saw a speck of black. Craning my neck to where it came from, my eyes immediately land on a blank black cover. No title, no author. I pick it up and flip to a random page. Nothing. I look at the back to see if there is a price tag. Nothing.

I put the book down and go back to looking around but my feet indistinctively went back to the same place where the book was.

Although The Purge started tomorrow, I couldn't help myself and tucked the book into my bag, walking away and praying that no alarms will go off. Once I pushed the door and walked out, I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

---

6:50 PM

Unlocking the door, I walk in but step on my own foot causing me to lose my balance and almost faceplant into the hardwood floor.

"Woah girl did you drink? Why are you walking all tipsy?" My friend Y/F/N asks.

"No. You know how clumsy I am. I legit just stepped on my own foot. You know how saddening if would have been if I dropped my bubble tea? I paid six dollars and thirty cents for it."

She starts to laugh. "This is why you should stay in the house during The Purge. It's either you are going to run away from the person and fall in the middle of it, or you are gonna talk so much that the person can't be bothered with you. So it's a fifty-fifty chance you make it out alive."

"Are you dissing me or offending me?"

She smiles evilly. "Whatever you think it is."

"I hate you."

"You know you love me."

---

That night, we watched a lot of action and defense movies "in order to protect ourselves if we get in that kind of situation" as how Y/F/N described it.

We moved to the basement and sat on the floor cross-legged, each of us having a knife and a handgun.

It's now eleven fifty-seven pm and at any given moment, our phones are supposed to go off. At least that's what they said.

"Y/N?" Y/F/N asked.

"Hmmm?" I responded.

"You won't betray me, right? We will survive this together right?"

I nodded. "After my parents died I had no one. You took me in because we looked like twins. Over the past few months, we did a lot together. I wanna continue it. I can't lose you."

She started crying and I saw her phone screen light up. One minute. I hugged her back.

"I love you, my twin."

12:00 AM

Beeps came from our phone, signaling a text alert.

'ATTENTION! THE PURGE HAS NOW STARTED. THE BILL OF RIGHTS HAS BEEN TEMPORARILY TAKEN DOWN AND BEEN REPLACED BY THE PURGE LAW. YOU HAVE TWELVE HOURS TO COMMIT A CRIME IF CHOSEN TO. OTHERWISE, BRACE YOURSELVES, FOR YOU WON'T COME OUT THE SAME WHEN YOU FIRST CAME IN.'

Muffled sobs came from Y/F/N's mouth and I whispered soothing words into her ear, trying to keep her voice down.

It was quiet, too quiet.

"Why does the government have this Purge thing going on every year?" I whisper.

She opened her mouth to say something until a crash was heard upstairs. She buried her face in my shoulder and I rubbed circles on her back.

Loud steps, not one, not two, more like eight people were walking. I heard fabric being ripped, glass shattering. I pictured the whole living room a mess.

"Stay here," I whispered. "Go hide in the hidden closet. I will come back once everything is fine upstairs."

I was about to leave until Y/F/N grabbed my wrist.

"You said you wouldn't leave me. Please stay."

I pried her hand off my wrist and tears were in her eyes. "I can't, if we both want to live, one of us has to go up there. Just trust me. If I'm not back here in thirty minutes, stay hidden and don't make a sound." She nodded and I trudged up the stairs, using my phone as a small flashlight to guide me.

When I turned at the stairs I immediately closed my phone, trying to force my eyes to adjust to the dark as quickly as they can.

"There's no one here." One person says.

"Do you think she left?"

"That's not possible, there's still a bowl of fresh popcorn on the coffee table." Another one says.

Wait, how can they see that? It's pitch black outside and they didn't even open any of the lights.

I quietly went up the stairs and took out my knife. If I can get close to one of them then I can-"OUCH!" I covered up my mouth.

"Who's there!" One took out their flashlight and I tried to run away but I bumped into something, wait no scratch that. I bumped into someone.

The person took out their phone and shone their light on me, revealing a boy who looks my age with silver hair wearing a black bandana as a mask.

"HONGSEOB, CHUN-LI! IS THIS HER?" The boy yells and another one comes and puts a device to my face.

"JinHong, it is." the boy says and the silver-haired boy who I presume is JinHong pulls down his mask and smirks.

"Ji Y/N, you're coming with me." and I felt something heavy hit the back of my head, the last thing on my mind was if Y/F/N was going to be okay.

MASTERLIST

#24k #kpop #jinhong #cory #kisu #jeonguk #hui #changsun #hongseob #the purge #ive actually never seen the purge so....lmao #trashbin writing #another part coming soon

1 note · View note

ask-de-writer · 6 years

Text

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT : World of Sea : Part 59

SEA DRAGON’S GIFT

De Writer (Glen Ten-Eyck)

140406 words

written 2007

Reproduction in any form, physical, electronic or digital is prohibited without the express consent of the author.

//////////////

Users of Tumblr.com are specifically granted the following rights. They may reblog the story provided that all author and copyright information remains intact. They may use the characters or original characters in my settings for fan fiction, fan art works, cosplay, or fan musical compositions. All sorts of fan art, cosplay, music or fiction is actively encouraged.

///////////////////////

New to the story? Read from the beginning. PART 1 is here

///////////////////////

Chapter 22: The Search

Rage, grief and mortification warred in Captain Mord’s heart as he looked at the map-table where he had sent Kurin in such anger. The worst was that, even if the Grandalor’s sailors were a boarding party, Kurin had been right.

The law was as clear as his anger was deep. While it was believed that the Grandalor’s sailors were castaways, the Longin had been required to pick them up, if only to hold them for trial. At least some of them paid in blood for their treachery! But they got what they came for. We may never see her again. . . The thought trailed off into unbearable pain.

Bron’s arm was trailing. He had bruises, one on his back, between the shoulder blades and one on the inside of his elbow. It was not serious but if his attacker had used a knife instead of that silly, weighted sack of fish-leather, he would have been dead.

Other crewmen were beginning to tell their tales of the battle and they were slowly realizing the same things. The assailants had been too few to have any hope of taking a ship like the Longin. Also, none of their enemies had been armed with anything but a padded leather cosh. It was as if they were trying not to hurt anyone on the ship. Some fools were even trying to tie that Sea Hawk to the attack. It was just lost in the fog.

Then they began to hear, Kurin’s gone! The bastards had kidnaped her! But that made no sense. They could have simply killed her. They had already tried to do it once. It would have been far less risky.

Looking at the map-table clearly, Captain Mord saw what he has missed the first time. There in the tallow, written in Kurin’s neat handwriting, was a note.

“Captain: The Grandalor’s crew needs justice. Their rights under the second G. L. have been violated. I have gone to help them. Kurin”

First they tried to kill her, now this! No matter what excuse, they have stolen her! In anger, partly at himself and partly at Kurin for being so gullible, he wiped out the note before any other should notice it. Details aren’t important! Whatever ruse they used, they kidnapped Kurin! The Grandalor is guilty!

Captain Mord returned forward, where one of the boarders lay propped against the foremast. The man had been stabbed deeply but still lived. Feebly he extended a hand holding a folded tallow-slate, hinged shut to protect its message.

Weakly he said to the enraged Mord, “Captain, read this. It’s from my Captain. We were to be your hostages for Kurin’s return. . .” He slumped lax, dead from his wounds, the tallow-slate falling from his fingers with a small clatter onto the Longin’s deck.

Captain Mord kicked the tallow-slate away unread. “Toss this Grandalor trash over the side,” he ordered.

His crew looked at him aghast. Nobody moved. Mord became angrier and yelled, “Dump him! That’s an order!” At last, a few deck-hands took the man’s body and dragged him to the rail. An Orca began to sing. They dropped him in fear. One noticed the tallow-slate and picked it up as he retreated.

Captain Mord realized that nobody would touch the body since the whale had begun to sing and heaved it over the side himself. The whale’s song went on for another ten minutes.

When it was done, Captain Mord ordered, “Swab up this blood and straighten up the area.” His men did do that, though they had begun to whisper among themselves as they worked.

Kurin disentangled herself from the joyous hug that Tanlin was giving her and said, “I need to see your log first, then all of the sickbay documentation. I want to see all of the Purser’s accounts and look over Master Selked’s shop. After that, I am going to interview virtually everyone on board.”

Tanlin let her go, becoming brisk, now that there was a task at hand. “Oi’m glad. Wen do ye wont t’ begin?”

“If I can eat in here, I’ll begin now,” said Kurin. “I need to start with the beginning of the indenture trade. I have to know about that in detail if I am to save your ship from Scattering.”

Tanlin got up and went to the long shelf holding the Logs of the Grandalor. As she was going down the line, absently tapping the spines of the volumes with her left index finger, she said thoughtfully, “T’ere’s somet’in’ t’at ye’ll find wen ye get t’ t’e interviews. Oi didnae mention ‘t before because ‘t wa’nae important in t’e way t’at ye asked about. ‘T does bear on ‘ow t’is ship wad respond t’ a penalty o’ Scatterin’.

“Every person on t’is ship’s adopted. All o’ t’em are now named Grandalor, m’sel’ included. ‘T happened t’e morning after our flight began. T’ey knew t’at t’e ship wa’ implicated in murder an’ chose t’is way o’ tellin’ Barad an’ m’sel’ t’at t’ey wad nae abandon us.

“Oi joined t’em.” She swallowed past a hard lump in her throat and a tear glistened in the corner of her eye.

“Princamorn wa’ but a name t’ m’ an’ t’e Grandalor’s home. Oi dinnae wont t’ lose ‘t.”

Intently, Kurin said, “I see. That makes a difference — to me at least,” she looked sharply at Tanlin, “if it was a voluntary thing.”

Tanlin was already fishing the necessary volume of the log from its shelf and looked back over her shoulder. “Twas. T’ey’d planned t’ do ‘t publicly, in t’e main square o’ t’e Gat’ering, ‘ad reserved ‘t, in fact, wen we ‘ad t’ flee. T’ey came t’ m’ first. Twas a total an’ welcome surprise. T’e only light in some very dark days.” She found the place that she was looking for in the book and gave it to Kurin.

Kurin settled cross-legged on Tanlin’s bunk with the book in her lap and began turning pages one at a time, glancing at each page and moving on. Tanlin watched as Kurin leafed through the volume of the log, almost twenty Gatherings old.

There was a scratching noise at the cabin’s window. Tanlin smiled to herself as it swung inward and Skye’s head poked into the cabin. The Wide Wing looked alertly about and stepped into the room. The bird turned about on the sill and used her beak to push the window closed and then hop-fluttered to the table in front of Tanlin, who chucked her under the beak and stroked her under a slightly raised wing.

Skye settled on the table and waited quietly. Kurin looked up with a smile and said, “Who’s trained who, here?”

Tanlin replied lightly but sort of seriously, “T’ey made m’ part o’ t’eir rookery flock an’ welcomed m’ t’ t’eir nest. Could Oi do less?”

Before there was any answer possible, Tahm returned with food, cups, utensils and trays. He set out the table, working nonchalantly around the sitting bird. Kurin put the log aside and came to the table.

“I take it that this happens a lot?” she said with a genuine smile.

It was Tahm who answered, “Every time that the Captain eats in. Sometimes it’s Skye, here. Sometimes it’s Thunderhead. I’m told that after the chicks are grown, it’ll be both of ‘em. Better behaved than many of the crew.”

The main course that he laid out was a Strong Skin roast. The bird looked sideways at Tanlin, who nodded. The bird promptly dove her beak into the edge of the roast and peeled off a strip. She began to bite it into bits which she swallowed quickly.

Kurin watched in fascination. “Better get yers w’ile ye still ‘ave a chance, Skye’s stoking up for ‘er chicks,” said Tanlin. She reached out, speared the roast with a chopstick and cut off slices with the knife that Kurin remembered from their first meeting. She piled the slices onto a tray along with a generous serving of red weed bread buns and seaweed salad. She handed the tray to Kurin and poured water into a cup.

“Sweet, sour or bitter flavor in yer woter?”

“Plain, please. Flavors for water? I never heard of any such thing.”

“Tis a Grandalor specialty. Barad told m’ t’at Kurti showed ‘t to ‘im shortly after she started t’ work as ‘is cabin-girl.”

“Now that puzzles me. I know what you told me at the Gathering but why would a skilled diver and stores clerk like Kurti stoop to becoming a cabin-girl?” Kurin asked around a mouth full of salad.

Tanlin considered for a moment and fed Skye a few more bits of roast before answering. “Oi wa’ still in m’ coma then. According t’ both Barad an’ Doctor Corin, she knew t’at she might die from ‘er lung parasite infection. Twas gettin’ worse in spite o’ t’e treatments. Doctor Corin wa’ just about t’ put ‘er on t’e invalid list. She wa’ in sickbay gettin’ a treatment wen she met Barad. ‘E’d come by t’ sickbay t’ look in on m’.

“‘E offered ‘er t’e light work job t’at ‘ad just come open, due t’ Chena’s untimely deat’. Kurti ‘ated bein’ useless. She jumped at t’e chance t’ avoid t’e invalid list an’ stay useful. T’ keep t’e seriousness o’ ‘er condition bein’ a matter o’ common gossip, Barad ordered ‘t kept secret. Barad could be considerate sometimes, even t’en.”

“I think that I see. The Barad that the fleet saw was something of a fiction?”

Tanlin leaned back nervously in her chair and gripped her right hand with her left. “Oi truly wish t’at Oi could say t’at but Oi promised ye t’e trut’. Tis a longish tale.

“Barad wa’ always a somew’at calculatin’ man. Once, long ago, Barad an’ Selked were married t’ twins from t’e Muline an’ by all accounts t’ey were ‘appy.

“An epidemic o’ fire cough swept t’e ship. Both Teralas, Selked’s wife, an’ Teralat, Barad’s wife, were among t’e nearly forty percent o’ t’e ship’s crew ‘oo died. Barad almost went mad wit’ grief, an’ dealt wit’ ‘t by calculatin’ almost everything. T’at’s ‘ow he became t’e Barad t’at you knew.

“Shortly after t’at, t’e Ca’tain died in ‘is sleep. A Coriolis storm wa’ comin’ an’ t’e crew needed command. T’ey took Barad’s orders an’ ‘e got t’e Grandalor t’rough safe, even t’ough t’e ship wa’ massively undermanned.

“‘E wa’ elected Ca’tain after t’e storm. At t’e Gat’ering t’at followed, ‘is election wa’ challenged by yer Ca’tain Mord. ‘E almost cost Barad both ‘is Ca’taincy an’ ‘is life. In t’e end, t’e Council up’eld Barad by only two votes. Even t’ose ‘oo voted in ‘is favor sponsored a resolution t’at t’ey did so only because t’e evidence against ‘im wa’ nae sufficient. T’at wa’ t’e origin o’ t’e grudge t’at ‘e ‘eld against Ca’tain Mord an’ t’e Naral fleet as a ‘ole.

“Barad rebuilt t’e crew by takin’ in t’e scupper sweepin’s o’ t’e fleet. T’e ones t’at naebody else wanted. T’e Grandalor became a refuge for t’ose wit’ nae ot’er place t’ go. Barad took t’em on a case by case basis an’ let t’em swim t’ Iren, if ‘e believed t’at a last chance would nae ‘elp.

TO BE CONTINUED

<==PREVIOUS NEXT==>

Return to the Master Story Index

Return to World of Sea

#SEA DRAGON’S GIFT #World of Sea #Written by De Writer #Part 59

14 notes · View notes

hangonimevolving · 6 years

Text

Attempting some gratitude, for once.

I need to post this, before the thought and the mood from which it’s sprung both dissipate into thin air.

I suck at gratitude, on the whole. Seriously, I do, and I know I need to work on that. I’ll spare everyone my sob stories, explanations, justifications, etc. for why I have had a hard time with gratitude in recent years, but suffice to say - I am aware that I suck at it, and I heard somewhere that the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one.... so fine. I admit it. I’m ungrateful and unappreciative in my life most days.

But today, I’ve had multiple - MULTIPLE - moments of just feeling this weird, inexplicable, warm and fuzzy, happy, sigh-inducing THING just bubble up in me. And I was like WTF is this feeling?! Why is my tummy all glittery and light? Why am I sitting here on the sofa smiling for no damn reason?! OHHHHH! Wait! Is this.....gratitude?! HOLY SHIT, I think it is! So I’m gonna write it down and note it for all posterity. I, Evolver, have felt gratitude on this 7th day of September, 2018.

It all started last Saturday night, where, right in the middle of Labor Day weekend and my sister Rithers’ visit to our hike in Miami along with her hubby, Uncle K, and her kids H20 and NiNi, our 5.5-year old Vevvy fell ill. We thought that perhaps he was just overly exhausted from a long and happy day in the pool when he felt warm to the touch on Saturday night, but mid-day Sunday, during a beach excursion - Vev’s FAVORITE thing in the world, he completely fell apart, acting listless, fatigued, and not having fun at all. One look at him, standing statuesque on the beach, staring out to sea longingly while tears rolled down his cheeks, said it all: “what is going on?! I’m so confused, mommy! I’m in my favorite place in the world, and yet I feel so miserable! What is happening to me?!” A hand on his forehead revealed that he was burning up. Without a moment’s hesitation, Dr. Spouse loaded him up in the car and headed for home, while I remained at the beach with Dey to host Rithers and co. a while longer. Poor Vev needed a shower, some kiddie Tylenol, and bed rest, stat.

the “I am siiiiick” face :(

Over the next seven - SEVEN! - days, Vev would continue to have relentless fevers or 101-103F even with continuous children’s Tylenol and Motrin. He also developed monster congestion in his sinuses and nose, headaches, body ache, and general fatigue. I was sincerely shocked and more than a little intimidated by his congestion snot (keeping it real), which was so thick and oppressive, it would choke his throat and inhibit his from breathing if he dared to rest in even a semi-reclining position.

The poor kid had no choice but to be completely upright if he didn’t want to gag on his own phlegm, which meant that he (and by transitive property, I) could really sleep no more than 90 minutes at a stretch for four nights straight. He was miserable, and I was doing everything I could to help him, staying with him each night either on an air mattress in my bedroom, or just holding him against my shoulder/chest in my bed while he desperately tried to sleep and breathe at the same time. I felt awful for him, and mused for a moment about parents whose children have respiratory disorders like CF who live their lives this way.... good health is such a blessing that we all take for granted.

As much as I hated every minute of Vev’s suffering, there was something a bit nostalgic in holding him sleeping in my arms for several consecutive nights. Wasn’t there a time in the not-so-distant past where this was the ONLY way he’d sleep?! I bitch and moan all the time about how clingy, dependent, and non-self reliant my kids are — but it has been years since Vev needed me at night this way. My Vevvy has grown up a lot.

And to his credit, despite all this sicky misery, he was really a trooper while ill. Against his traditional character, when sick or not, he really didn’t complain much - just went quiet and kept to himself for days, forming a little nest on the sofa each day with a warm blankie, big box of Kleenex, and his iPad, not really asking for much at all except quiet and rest. He never really complained when I had to give him medication, and he did his best to heed my urges to drink clear fluids even when I could tell he really didn’t want to. And - forgive the TMI here - but you know your kid is really growing up when they begin to have some way of forewarning you and/or running to the bathroom on their own steam and hitting the preferred target of the toilet when they’ve gotta vomit. Fortunately, Vev only puked twice this week, and I suspect that too was only bc he gagged on his own copious snot — but both times, he announced “throwwww uuuup!” to me before sprinting to the loo and handling affairs with no mess and accurate aim. HALLELUJAH! This should be considered a major developmental milestone!!! (And yes - poor, poor kid! I really am glad it was only the twice, because that must have sucked a lot for him!)

Yeah, so. He’s growing up. Way to go, buddy!!!... and, sniff.

(supposedly this says “Mommy I love you ”... but he always starts writing at the bottom of a page and works his way up. He may also be of the mind that “Mommy” is spelled “mom-E.” Yes, we’re gonna work on it)

It was only yesterday, Thursday, that we got an official pediatrician diagnosis of his illness: the flu, as in the legit flu virus, or Influenza A. The word came too late for antiviral medications to be of any great use to him, unfortunately, but I was grateful anyway that we got a halfway-decent pediatrician BRILLIANT nurse practitioner who needed my assertive request demand for a prophylactic prescription or Tamiflu for Dey. We’ve had shitty luck in South Florida with pediatricians who appear to be reactionary and unnecessarily nonsensical in their responses to my requests for help - but this time, our pedi NP was A+. She treated our family like competent, educated people and did things that made sense as far as ensuring this highly-contagious virus wouldn’t spread to another healthy child living in the same household. I wish she could be our regular PCP (but of course, I bet she can’t be, bc she’s not a doctor. Grr, fucking managed care. Oops, hold it - I’m supposed to be channeling gratitude here, not my customary bitchiness. My bad.)

Anyway, speaking of Dey, I’ve got to brag about him a bit here too. At 3.5 years old, Dey’s baseline is definitely chill, go-with-the-flow, glass-half-full, and a pleasant, happy and easygoing “whatever you want, dude!”-ness that Vev NEVER was at that age. It’s been really awesome to see. But this week, his general outlook on life, combined with impressive moments of being a team player, cooperating, helping out, and exhibiting formidable empathy really made me sooo proud.

It’s certainly understandable that he’d be potentially jealous that his older brother got to skip an entire week of school while he still had to go. It would be even more understandable since they are actual CLASSMATES at school this year (yes, our Montessori school groups ages 4-6/preschool, pre-K and kindergarten in one classroom, so they’ve been together at school and at home since the start of the academic year). So I was very impressed when Dey accepted his brother’s illness and his need to stay home from school, while he was forced to go. Without one word of complaint, he’d get up each morning, eat his breakfast, get washed up and dressed out in uniform, gather his things, then visit Vev quickly and dispense a goodbye hug and a “hope you feel better, Vev!” before loading up in the car for school drop-off. What a trooper. At afternoon pick-up, when I’d ask about his day at school, he’d say with a little frown, “oh, school was okay...but Vev wasn’t on the playground.” It was kinda weird feeling my heart simultaneously break a little, but also burst with pride at how much he loves his brother. Sweet kiddo.

At home, each afternoon he’d run excitedly to Vev to see how he was doing, his face full of hopeful anticipation that perhaps today, Vev was feeling better and could play with him... but when he’d find Vev too miserable and tired to play, his face would momentarily fall in disappointment, but then he would muster some compassion and understanding, silently shuffle away, and find a quiet game to do in the vicinity, just so he could be nearby without disturbing Vev. Or, cuter still, he’d snuggle down on the opposite side of the couch as Vev, and tune his iPad into the same YouTube video Vev would be watching, so they could give each other silly smiles and glances during the funny parts. The boy would periodically race off in the house to find his toy doctor kit, and would affix his little plastic stethoscope to his ears so he could “give Vev a checkup” and “make him feel better.”

(Dr. Cutie Pie is in)

It was adorable, man. His whole world spins because of his brother. It’s so touching. I don’t know how it is that I managed to have two kids who love each other so much, because karmically I’ve done NOTHING to earn this. My sister and I were rotten to each other as kids, and only really turned a corner on it in our... what, our late 30′s?! Haha :) But I’m so grateful for these two dudes. These two little people are the best of friends, and they can’t live without each other. The feels.

One more funny brag about Dey. Dr. Spouse and I often jokingly refer to him as Dory, i.e. the lovable blue fish, voiced by Ellen DeGeneres from the Disney movie “Finding Nemo.” Dory’s schtick is that she’s easily distracted and has short-term memory.

Fittingly, Dory is one of Dey’s favorite cartoon characters, and he’s not shy to let the world know....

youtube

Anyway. Remember that whole prophylactic script for Tamiflu? Mind you, I was so grateful to get it. But. Ummmm, pediatric Tamiflu tastes FOUL. It is seriously the most bitter, disgusting, viscous goo I’ve ever gingerly licked to mentally prepare myself for my kid’s reaction to. I began fearing Dey’s reaction, and the ensuing tantrums to come over the five-day course of the drug. But I spoke matter-of-fairly to Dey about how this was a medicine he’d need to take to keep himself healthy, and that it would be a little bit yucky, but that I’d give him a HUGE spoonful of sugar right after to make it taste better (and THANK YOU, blessed Mary Poppins, for your genius).

Luckily, little Dory just took my words at face value without any further thought, opened his mouth, and downed the nasty shot of devil’s semen Tamiflu that I dispensed into his mouth. Immediately his face went every shade of red, purple, and white, with a coordinating expression like “what the hell is this shit?!” — but I swooped in there prepared, like a crack-smoking Mother of Batman, giving him a swig of water then heaping a MASSIVE spoon of white sugar directly onto his tongue. The result was nothing short of magical - the kid instantaneously closed his eyes in pleasure, turned up his cute little round cheeks to the ceiling with a huge smile on his face, and loudly cooed “Mmmm!” as if it was the best damn thing he’d ever eaten in his life. Moments later, the sugar fully dissolved, Dey matter-of-fairly reminisced with a RainMan-esque tone, “hey mommy, that medicine was kind of yucky for me. Kind of salty. Kind of spicy. But the SUGAR WAS YUUUUUUMMMMMY!” I worried that at the next dosing (and man, the kid’s gotta take it morning and night, poor little dude) he’d run screaming from the salty spicy medicine, and wouldn’t fall for the sugar trick — but amazingly, when I announced “medicine and sugar time,” the child came RUNNING to me with a huge grin on his face like he’d just won the lottery. He gulped down the medicine like a champ, swigged the water himself, then began changing “Su-gar! Su-gar! Su-gar!” till I ladled a bit into his mouth. Naturally, my mind spun forward a bit, concerned that his ease of overcoming the Yucky Taste Barrier and downing this stuff for a cheap reward might translate into some unsavory teenage and young adult behaviors (err, tequila shot champion in the making?! Please god, help us). But, for now - eternally grateful for my little Dory’s easy distractability and forgiving memory!!! Vev, at that age and even now, would have NEVER gone along with this!

(is it just me, or do they even kinda sorta look alike, Dory and Dey? No one else sees it?! No one?!!! Hmm...)

Anyway. In conclusion, it’s not normal for me to have something kind of bad happen, like the flu hitting one of my kids, but finding some good in the mess. But here I am, in spite of myself, awash in all the warm fuzzies.

1. I’ve got two healthy, happy kids, when many people have children with serious health issues and have to live their lives watching their kids sick and miserable all the time

2. my kids are growing up, becoming wonderfully independent, self-reliant, empathetic and helpful. But they still sometimes need me, and that’s nice too.

3. They both have such fun, distinct personalities.

4. I admit that it’s pretty awesome that my second kid is so chill. Love them both to bits, but if kid #2 has been more ornery and neurotic, I think that would have sucked. Having a chill kid #2 is a godsend.

5. They frigging LOVE EACH OTHER. It’s a goddamn brotherly love fest up in here.

6. Last but not least - the flu sucks, but it isn’t forever, and life will go on. Soon, in fact. And we’ll be onto the next adventure together. Look forward to seeing what it’ll be!

#Vev #Dey #parenthood #influenza #flu #brotherlylove

2 notes · View notes

therecklessseeking-blog · 6 years

Text

June 25, 2018 Funnel Chasing in Iowa

I woke up super early one Monday morning. By super early I mean 8 am, because I’m normally sleeping until noon or later easily. For some reason, the night before I was able to pass out in time for me to be well-rested.

The trip that day was a split-moment decision. I remember lying in bed cycling through the morning ritualized web pages- weather.org, the SPC, weather.us and then over to my favorite radar app to see what was currently underway.

What I saw was that nice yellow bubble at the top of Missouri into Iowa with a 5% chance of tornadoes, but for some reason I wasn’t actually in the mood to drive out that far. I have a desperation to teleport sometimes. I like road trips. I like being far away. I like the freedom that comes with tourism, and the lack of true obligation. God, are the usual routes boring though. You can only travel on 70 so many times before you’re numbed to the usual array of fields and impatient drivers.

I knew that I was leaving for somewhere though, and I get out of the house by 845 am. It wasn’t a bad turn around to get up, dressed and packed within 45 minutes. My hallmark is indecision, and that can waste a lot of my time.

What was eating at me though was exactly where to go. Sure, there was that nice spot to the north, but the soaring index on weather.us also hinted at the vast amount of severe storms that would move northeast across the Ozarks straight to my county. And the timing suggested that I could explore cave-ridden and creek-laden areas for a few hours before they really started to develop.

As I traveled further and further west down 70, I knew that I would have to make a decision- and to be honest, for some reason I was really fixated on what all the data was saying about the southern routes I had in mind. Places like Sedalia and back roads to the southwest. Plus, since the storms would develop within Kansas and move east, it would be a longer chase. A chase that followed me.

There was a lot of anxiety surrounding that decision though. At the last minute, I kept asking the universe to synchronize some sign into my life. And oddly enough, it appeared in the clouds itself. They hung low, and moved north. I saw the curls I like to see, and one cloud curled itself right into an arrow. North it is.

But f*** driving all that way into Kansas City. I hate city driving, and Kansas City is one of the worst I’ve ever been to yet. I feared more wasted time just based off the inevitable urban traffic.

I’d been looking at the radar every 20 to 30 minutes and I noticed that the low pressure system sitting over Nebraska had already spawned some storms moving up interstates 29 and 35 around St. Joseph, which was another hour and a half away from me. I’ll admit I wasted quite a bit of time getting food, getting lost on the way to food, and then-having a bit of that anxiety earlier -taking a bit too long staring at the radar at one or two exits to decide what I was doing. Oh well.

I figured that I’d make it to MO-13 and go north from there. It’s an older highway, and it goes through some towns you can tell have been raised and broken down in history. This included Lexington, stage of a huge battle during the civil war. The long, rolling fields were stunning. And time consuming. I still had the paranoia that I was driving farther and farther from home on a weak whim. At least everyone was speeding.

I knew that taking MO-13 far enough would lead me to Interstate 35, but apparently that road has been closed for a while just beyond Hamilton, so I decided to sit behind a Dollar General for a second and check out a map. US-36 west would solve that issue immediately, and save me a lot of time. Meanwhile, I get a notification on my phone that the storm chaser/patreon I follow, Pecos Hank, was also aiming for that slight risk zone. Based on the clouds I’d seen coming up 13 off to my west, and the winds in my favorite app, I felt an increasing confidence in my decision of North vs South, and I race on. I reach Interstate 35 by 1:20 pm.

Now, I don’t normally recommend speeding at all. I’m a 5-over-the-limit type of person any other time. But as I’m looking at both the radar and the sky more and more on the approach, I realize that the show is setting up. There’s a bit of convection to the east and west of me. They all just looked like heavy rain so far, but my anxiety was increasing. There was an active range of over 70-90 miles easily, with some storms steadily popping up and moving quickly in the east right over Princeton Mo, and then of course the storms that had already been active near the Kansas/Nebraska border much closer to the low pressure system.

Just before 3 pm, I’ve reached Eagleville MO and jump off the highway to look at the radar. There's a new wave of convection to the south of me, filling in the rainless middle ground and heading north towards me. What I also notice is an organized line of storms approaching the Missouri river heading northeast. I’m near the convergence zone of these storms, and that’s exactly what I’m looking for.

Quickly, I choose a few roads to work their magic. North on US-69, west on MO-46, and not a car in sight I ride the hills to view the horizons bringing me the results. On a bend of 46, I manage to find a nice little hill to take a picture or two and check out any sheer in the clouds.

I still had just under an hour left though. The line to the west was moving much faster than the individual cells to the south and I could just barely make them out on the horizon, so my goal is to move more slowly to the converging point and stake out various places to watch the clouds set themselves up.

Hatfield showed some promise. Just a few houses, some of them abandoned:

There’s a natural area an eighth of a mile south of Hatfield called Pawnee Prairie that did the trick. The parking area was a nice clear overlook on top of a treeless hill, with a few farmers fields surrounding the area. Google says I sat there for close to 30 minutes as I watched the cells approach me. My camera failed to record like I asked it to, but what I noticed was the signs of low pressure. Low hanging clouds rush in west ahead of the storms, as if they gravitated to something else. With all precipitation on the radar heading either north or northeast, there was definitely something hidden happening in the sky. I abandon Pawnee Prairie and continue west down 46, stopping to find a field or two to take more pictures

15 miles away, my actual target was around Grant City MO. The line I’d spotted earlier was only growing stronger and closing in, and it was a race to find a suitable space for viewing. Suitable here means “tall, clear hill with a drive-able road and space to pull off to the side.” None of which is ever guaranteed nor marked with a sign, and as I close in on Grant City, I realize just how close that storm in getting and just how massive that storm became.

I still had no real intention on running into Iowa just yet though. The storms were only yet to arrive and something screamed “STAY!” Turning north onto US-169 I spotted the one road that would be suitable for my needs. North Lyon St (CR 286) is a dirt road springing off the top of Grant City, and right on top of the very hill that originally blocked the westward view from 169. It overlooked a large amount of the western fields, and although quite a bit of the southern sky was blocked by trees, I managed to get nearly 20 minutes of video of the wall cloud and heavily developing rain on the front end of the storm.

The thing was, while I spent so much time looking off to the west, I never moved myself to see what was to the south edge of the system. I had my prize view and signs of very minor rotation, and when I get that much, moving is paranoia. As the rain began falling over me my video quality was dropping, with auto-focus fixated on the droplets on my window. That’s when I checked radar.

Oddly enough, just south of me, a little hook echo had been forming, and I’m off speeding again. Trying to avoid the holes of this little dirt road in the rain was a challenge enough, but keeping my head clear as I race back south down 169 into Grant City was another challenge. I backed into someone’s driveway across from the second Dollar General of the day and began recording what eventually would form into the funnel I had been waiting for.

Now this video is a compilation of the whole event- from suitable hill to the chase it lead me on straight into Iowa up US-169. If you want the most interesting parts only, I guess my advice is to skip ahead 5 minutes

youtube

I’ll admit that parts of the audio are cut out to make it family friendly. When the funnel was forming straight ahead of me, there was still this vague aura of control over the situation. I had a southern escape route right across the street, and for a while, I felt not fear but exhilaration and joy. To think I could have missed the opportunity by going to Sedalia, right?

Any way, what I figured out was I’m completely silent until I repetitively cuss myself out for about 5 minutes in totality. No offense to myself, but what I realized after it passed over me and headed towards the hill was that it might really drop- in which case, I know better. That thing could have thrown any part of those trees at me. I had the legitimate warning of every storm chaser and meteorologist spinning around me faster than the funnel. While it’s great to have video of a tornado, it’s just stupid to film yourself getting hit by one.

I stalk it up 169, cross the Iowa border, and she’s still rotating nicely. I’m trying to find some sort of country road that would let me see over all the bad hill-and-tree combos. I started to understand why chasing in Iowa was such a tease. It’s beautiful, and the twisters are willing to twist but they play “The Floor is Lava” better. It was probably all the hills causing that.

While there are definitely less trees than my part of Missouri and the Ozarks south, man are all the views sporadic. I found myself leaving 169 for a few minutes when I’d found a hill, realizing that the storm was progressing too far ahead of me, and then racing back to catch the ground I lost.

It was also these hills that let me realize this rotation was dying.

Everything’s just started though, and I’m getting a bit scrambled trying to trace where the rotation is trying to head off to while not getting caught in some downpour. There’s just something about the middle of nowhere that makes phones slower and vague and while I’d bought a road map book of everywhere I could possibly end up that day, unless I had some sort of radar on the top of my car strictly to run my own data, I’m running the majority of this chase on finding hills for views and then routes to get over there.

That’s pretty much were I detoured the wrong way- watching the sky too much and missing a turn that would have landed me in the dense rain that popped up to my east. Instead, my stubborn self caught the most vivid rainbow I’ve ever witnessed- on a route that led me on a scenic view of a town that had no good road to the main roads I was aiming for. I’m left with a phone camera that couldn’t necessary capture how grand it was, but I’ll always remember it.

Looking back, it was sort of a mixed blessing to view the storms at such a distance. I was never really caught in any rain, but the hesitancy I had to really approach from the main paved roads caused me to lose track of it. The problem was that the main highways ran straight into any cells path moving north, and these elongated monsters moved fast and heavy. Any parallel path I found though was slippery (dirt and water don’t let you move any faster than 40 miles per hour either) and always carried the greater risk of concealing the horizon behind trees.

I did manage to find a few hills that made me realize just how much rotation a slight risk area can involve. Looking across the valleys around me, I spotted at least three wall clouds either rotating or forming around me. Two belonged to the same elongated cell maybe a good 5 miles to the east that had dumped so much rain in front of me earlier on.

There it was again- that overwhelming need to teleport. The anxiety only increased with an overwhelming need to be everywhere at once too. Complete storm omniscience is all I was really asking for. It's so toxic that it's hard to make decisions, and made me increasingly impatient with myself to get going. I appreciate the view, but I always realize that I fall behind. Soon I'll lose the storms to the same hills and back roads I vouch for.

It's easier to just post a map outlining the route rather than explaining it, because I elected a ton of back roads filled with charming old buildings that only served to keep me out of the action, but still in view of something happening.

As I got closer to Des Moines, I realized two things:

A) Nighttime was approaching within the hour, and I didn't have the best camera for all the amazing lightning happening, nor would I be able to see any rain or tornadoes approaching me on my drive home B) My cell phone only has so much memory, AND I've literally filled it all with clouds and cat pictures. Not to mention several 10-13 minute long videos of rotation from this and previous chases. This phone brand doesn't even contain bloatware either, so I've definitely outdone myself.

Yet I still record

youtube

I find an exit off of interstate 35 just a few miles south of Des Moines to sit and stare over the clearest horizon I've found yet. I'm refusing to give up the fight. I start to delete selfies, apps, games- anything for just a bit of memory. I start spamming my snapchat story with videos knowing that I'd have 24 hours to download anything I uploaded. All for one of the greatest sunsets I've seen yet, and a lot of SLCs (too bad my snapchat segregated the videos into fragments).

What I was most upset about was the phone thing. Nighttime storms are my favorite, and because night is the exact time that most severe storms roll through my area I was accustomed to chasing them more. This time I'd be left with nothing to show, nothing to save. The clouds glowed with rapid fire. I could tell with the intensity of each strike, these storms still had quite a while before they decided to retire, and I begrudgingly begin to drag myself down the highway home. It'll take me 5 hours- if I don't stop.

For a while I have to. Just a few miles out of Des Moines, I thought these tornadoes were coming for me anyway. There were still warnings active of course. There had been for a few hours. But I realized with the downpour, the radar, the split second views of scud to the north, and the fierce power of the wind under my car that I might very well have been in the draft suctioning into the storm. The rain fell sideways. In fact, it wasn't even falling. I stopped at a Casey's and even being under the shelter at the furthest point the rain could enter from, I was still absolutely soaked getting a literal seven dollars worth of gas. I gave up.

As I carry on, maybe an hour out, the sky is clearing, and I see the cloud tops of numbed cumulonimbus under a full moon and the active ones still firing off to the north. Dreamy, I think. Absolutely dreamy. I'd pull off to gawk, but something tells me the highway patrol won't like it too much with a “DO NOT PICK UP HITCHHIKERS” sign posted nearby.

Thanks for reading.

#june 25 2018 #severe weather #storm chasing #funnel #storm chase

5 notes · View notes

dateflight398 · 3 years

Text

Dating As A Single Dad Reddit

Dating As A Single Dad Reddit Free

Dating Single Parents Reddit

Reddit Dating Advice

A few years ago, I started cracking jokes regularly about hot dads. Then when I met a charming, handsome dude with good taste in music and tacos at a secret Santa vinyl swap party last winter, I started dating one. Suddenly the jokes seemed a little creepy, and although I actively pumped the brakes on making them, those familiar with my menagerie of hot dad puns rose a skeptical eyebrow. I didn't seek out a hot dad, it just happened. Hotness aside, there's some unexpected things that happen when you date a single dad.

I've dated ('dated') divorced dudes before, which might be a little similar, but this relationship marks my first with a parent. When the relationship was brand-spankin' new, a lot of close friends lamented renditions of, 'I could never DATE A PARENT.' They echoed sentiments of kids being deal breakers. But I just figured, we're getting older. Everyone has a past and brings baggage into a relationship. And sometimes that baggage needs soccer lessons. Although, of course, I find my partner's child a deeply charming, fun, hilarious little human who doesn't qualify as 'baggage.' You know what I mean. A man willing and thrilled to take on the dad role shows commitment. It shows a patient man who gives a damn and has a loving heart. These are positive things. However, yeah..dating one of these men summons some unique situations sometimes.

Aug 27, 2018 Single dads have responsibilities, and that’s a sign that they’ll be able to handle a relationship maturely. Speaking of fatherly responsibilities, single dads have to take their kids to the Dentist, the Doctor, and other appointments. This means that it should be relatively easy to meet a single dad if you’re looking to date one. If you’re newly single, ease into it. Remember, you’re the grown-up here. “The decision to date is 100. Single Officers, hows your dating life? I am a Deputy that is currently working in the county jail. I was recently set up on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She was was really cute from her pictures and i was told she was a great person so i agreed. We met for dinner and I was actually having a good time.

He gets along great with your dad

I already knew I was dating a sociable, nice guy, and my dad is the same way, but I don't know how I failed to predict this easy bond. It's kinda unbelievably cute to watch them nerd out on fatherhood together.

He moves easily in different social situations

If he has to make pleasant conversation with other parents during tae kwan do, he can flow harmoniously through your old coworker's new girlfriend's potluck.

Finding tiny clothes in your clean laundry

Or..not even that tiny. Just not yours and not big enough to be his. I recently unearthed a red T-shirt that was definitely not mine in a batch of clean laundry I did at bae's house. Granted, I'm a fairly petite person and my boyfriend's child is seven. Even though I modeled it for jokes above, I resisted the urge to actually don and sport it around. That seemed too far.

Reexamining past relationships

Every situation is different, but my boyfriend is still on amicable terms with his child's mother, who also lives near us. Matters are so peachy that she even shared me on a Google Calendar she, her boyfriend, and my boyfriend share re: who has chief parenting duties when (it's half-and-half, really). This kind of amazing camaraderie made me really look at past relationships I'd previously kept duct-taped in a box and tossed the way-back part of the closet. I'd like to say this exercise made me resurrect toxic romantic relationships as healthy friendships, but that hasn't quite happened yet (and with some specific ones, I honestly can't see that ever happening). More than anything, I think it's helped me recognize the hard fact that all humans have faults and, in general, good intentions. Harmony can exist with a little work. (Though to be fair, I can't take credit for the calendar. That's all his superstar ex's handiwork and maturity.)

Realizing people sure like to make fun of/talk about dads

I actually muted #dadbod from Twitter and had to fake a million smiles for people trying to relate to me by bringing the meme up IRL. Also very tired of the dad joke thing (which is real, sure, but still not a phenom I care to discuss for the 999th time).

There's far less invented drama

Dating As A Single Dad Reddit Free

When a person has to care for another human, they simply have less emotional and physical energy to invent snafus or hang-ups. Nothing is a big deal unless it's an actual Big Deal. He has developed a wisdom to help him identify the difference between the two, and if you haven't already done the same, hanging with him long enough will be educational.

You have an incredibly patient partner

Someone who had to teach a tiny, indignant child how to master the toilet isn't gonna flip when you need to take nine breaks hiking back out of a canyon.

You save money

I've never considered my income sizable until I started thinking of the glaring fact that I don't have to split it with anyone. Since single dads still have to, you know, fund their child, there isn't always a ton of extra dough to fund flippant outings to fancy cocktail bars or jump onto tubing trips you didn't even want to attend in the first place. It inspires you to be more mindful of your own spending habits. As such—

He's wildly creative with cheap and free activities

And knows every single dope park worth visiting in town.

It forces you to address your own insecurities..

So when the kid asks, 'Why are you wearing lipstick?' You can actually think to yourself, '..Yeah. Why am I doing that?' And in a more serious sense, it forces you to dissect immature impulses. Like when you're running late to meet a friend because you're stuck in a child-stuffed lantern parade one town over, you're not allowed to bitch and force your S.O. to help you summon an Uber to pick you up, STAT—because he's too busy pushing the kid on a skateboard inside the festivities to indulge your princess agenda. It makes you take a more discerning look at this princess agenda and brainstorm ways to be more reasonable in general.

..and to be an adult yourself.

I was playing with the kid at a playground near my boyfriend's apartment and when an authority figure from the attached daycare came out to ask if we had permission to be there, I immediately turned to the child. Then I realized, 'Oh fuck. I'm supposed to answer here.' I've always been a touch afraid of authority but knew I had to handle the current situation. It turned out fine, by the way.

Conversely, it means you can't let jealousy get to you with exes. I used to let envy blind me badly in the past—even if a boyfriend managed to remain congenial with an ex, the whole bond made me feel rattled as hell. Now that I'm with a person who's ex will be around in a close way forever and ever amen, I have to be OK with that. Which is the adult thing to do anyway. We can't let ourselves feel threatened for no viable reason.

He knows the world doesn't revolve around him

This can be a difficult quality to find in this world of overgrown Peter Pans on the hunt for their own Mother figure—a person to handle all the less savory household duties, remind them to go to the doctor, praise them constantly, hinge their daily or long-term plans on what Pan wants or says he needs. This situation is different, because he already takes on that role for his child while still taking decent care of himself. Playing Mother to a series of adult Peter Pans got old, so this kind of attitude is a very welcome change of pace.

He is deliberate

Since there's a kid involved, he isn't trying to be all willy-nilly with decisions in life—both those that do and don't concern you. That's pretty hot, TBH.

You can dodge responsibility for your music choices

When 'Uptown Funk' happens six times in a row, I can blame that on the kid (which is true). Same with Katy Perry (which might be an extrapolation or even just my idea).

It's hard to gross him out

Possibly one of the best treats of dating a dad. If your cat got secretly sick and he steps barefoot into a pile of barf, he doesn't love it but he understands that happens (probably because he has experience direct skin-to-someone else's-barf contact before). He also doesn't panic about periods or farts or other body stuff.

Dating Single Parents Reddit

His place is gonna be messy..forever

Cleaning is one of my favorite forms of therapy, likely because if I'm in a highly cluttered space physically, that transfers mentally and makes me feel like a stressed-out trashcan. Very early in this relationship, I suggested I help my boyfriend with an intense cleaning sesh of his kitchen. We had a lot of wine and played loud punk and soon it was gleaming. This lasted about 36 hours. With a child and full-time job and other luxurious duties such as bathing oneself and staying fed (AND keeping the kid fed), cleaning falls to the wayside. Besides not having enough time to clean, kids are just miraculously mess-inducing machines. Tireless ones. As such, I try to see this situation as an opportunity to relax my OCD tendencies and work to become a more patient, understanding person. Of course my apartment is much cleaner—because I only have to account for me. It isn't fair to hold him to the same standard.

You learn how to relinquish some control

I recognize I have some control freak tendencies, relationships included. A lot of life is outside our control and dating someone with a child is a very effective reminder that no matter what, we can't always call the shots. We have to be adaptable. As such, I waited until my boyfriend thought it would be OK to introduce me to his kid. And even then, it's not like I leapt from a cake and shouted, 'I AM YOUR NEW MOM!!!!!!!!!!!' Not at all. I'm still just a buddy who kicks it from time to time to join in on eating pizza or playing 'balloon' or the occasional ride home from school. When and if my boyfriend wants to explain my role in his life to his child, that's not really up to me. It's a discussion he and I can have, but it's not my endeavor to pilot.

You get a bit of perspective about your own age..

It's fun to make fun of Oldsters until you realize you are now one. This is highlighted by the frequency at which you offer anecdotes children don't want to hear, always marked with the beginning, 'When I was a kid..' They don't care, probably. They just don't need to hear about how your lack of skills with Donkey Kong at age seven feeds into your lack of skills with Mario Kart Racing at age 27. They're just stoked to authentically beat an adult.

..and your general level of importance.

Not to say my boyfriend treats me like I'm not important; He treats me with total kindness and respect. It's just that I have dated people in the past who put me on a pedestal, and you know what? The oxygen gets pretty thin up there. Although I'm sure it's meant as an appreciative gesture, it's unrealistic and puts a lot of pressure on the person sitting on top of it. Dating a parent, though, means no matter what, there is always going to be someone more important than I am in the mix. And I am so so OK with that.

There's no room for jealousy

If a sitter falls through last-minute, that means reservations gotta be canceled and dinner gets moved to the living room and the main dish will probably be pizza. You can't take it personally if homie is late because his child's mother got a flat tire so he had to go help out. You also can't get suspicious when he's on the phone with her a lot. These are complicated waters to navigate and if you're even to dip a few toes beneath the surface, you gotta be able to resign yourself to faith and trust—two things that ought to be present in any grown-ass relationship anyway. It's just here, it's especially non-negotiable.

🤑 Best Coupons: FREE TRIAL + 10% OFF. ⏳ Last Update: 12 Jun 2021. 👤 Editor: Sherina Humairoh. SilverSingles is a special dating platform for singles over the age of 50. Users can meet fellow individuals, share the same passion and adventure dreams. Silver singles coupon. Coupons.com Mobile App. Save $100s with free paperless grocery coupons at your favorite stores! Link your store loyalty cards, add coupons, then shop and save. Get App; Promo Codes Promo Codes. Shop online with coupon codes from top retailers. Get Sears coupons, Best Buy coupons, and enjoy great savings with a Nordstrom promo code. If youre over 50 and single, meeting someone special is easier than ever before thanks to SilverSingles.com. Browse through thousands of photos of other singles, chat with those who interest you via chat rooms and instant messaging, and enjoy this prime of your life while you look for love!

Reddit Dating Advice

Shit doesn't have to be so serious

I never babysat growing up and none my nieces and nephews live close by, so I don't actually have much experience hanging out with kids. The first time I met my boyfriend's child, I was 900 times more nervous than meeting any adult. What were we supposed to do or talk about? 'Seriously, whatever,' he instructed. After a while, the nerves dissolved and we were playing a stirring game of 'balloon,' which entails whacking a balloon back and forth between two or three people in a living room. Extra rules vary, but usually Taylor Swift is a necessary soundtrack. Things just don't have to be so serious in the sense that kids are very fun and it's almost astounding how quickly you can reverse back to such an easily entertained brain space. It's freeing to launch into some weird accent and spike a deflating balloon in the air without fear of being judged. It scratches a specific existential itch.

There's no ego

Because guess who makes the weird accent and plays balloon when you're not around? Conversely, though— Gaydia gay dating site reviews.

You can have serious conversations without scaring each other

Although I'm sure there are exceptions, most of the time when a single dad is dating, he isn't just screwing around. It's surprisingly refreshing to sink into a relationship and have the comfortable freedom to discuss individual big-scale hopes and goals. In other relationships, talking about the future at all can often be exactly the catalyst to send Pan off packing for a return and permanent trip to Neverland.

You retain a lot of your own time

Often, especially in new relationships, it can be hard to balance love stuff and friends. https://dateflight398.tumblr.com/post/658104267855577088/catholic-dating-app-free. Assuming you're in a situation with split custody in a local setting, that means half the time you get to yourself. It helps slow things down early on and maintain other hobbies, tinkerings, friendships, and such in your own life. It's the antithesis to smothering and fosters vital independence.

Images: TriStar Picturs; Giphy(23); Beca Grimm

0 notes

burmecianblackmage · 6 years

Text

Goodbye 2017 - Hello 2018

[[EDIT: tumblr did mess it up. Urgh. So this is now two hours late... sorry guys -.-]]

If tumblr doesn’t mess things up (and it hasn’t during the advent calendar, so I’m willing to give it the benefit of the doubt and assume it won’t), then this post should hit the dash exactly when the clock strikes midnight over here in Switzerland, and the new year begins. And that means it’s the perfect time to say...

Happy 2018 guys!

I hope you all will have a wonderful new year, one that will make you forget all the bad things that happened in 2017, and leave you a happy and content little human by the time 2019 rolls around in 365 days.

May your year be full of moments that make you smile, moments of love and friendship, moments of success and accomplishment, and above all, full of health and happiness. I am very happy to have met all of you, and to have interacted with you, whether it be by playing, by talking, or even just by reading some of each other’s works. You lot have been a big part in what kept me going this year, and I want you to know I’m really thankful for that. I hope we can enjoy much of the next year together as well, and that no matter where the year will lead you, you will be happy. I love you all.

As a little extra, I’ll put a little review of my and Sceada’s year under the cut - at least I hope it will remain somewhat little. But you know me... Anyhow. I’m placing it under the cut so as not to spam you, and also because I will address some stuff regarding my health and Sceada’s sexuality as well, and I know not everyone is comfortable with that. I’ll mark them with a small header so you can skip them, but I just wanted to warn you beforehand~

With that out of the way, here we go! And for those who don’t wanna read it: Happy 2018!!

The Mun’s Year in Review

Well, you all know that this year hasn’t been an easy one, and I daresay it was a rough one for everyone. Still, I do feel like I should talk a little bit about the hardships I’ve had to face, and the struggles that’ll accompany me for much of the year to come, if not the entire one. So... here goes.

Health

As many of you know, I had a tumor in December 2016, namely an Ependymom that was lodged in my spinal marrow, at about the tenth to twelfth thoracic vertebrae. It had caused me stiffness and loss of sensitivity in my legs, and once we found it, there had been little choice but to remove it asap.

Ever since then, I’ve been needing a wheelchair. And I started 2017 at rehab in the Swiss Paraplegic Center in Nottwil. Mind you, it’s probably the best facility in the world for such a situation, and I learned a ton of stuff, including how to walk again with the help of crutches - still, spending half a year stuck at rehab ain’t exactly fun.

Especially when you also have to relearn stuff like bladder management, using the toilet and what not. Do you want to take a wild guess at how helpless you feel when you can’t even go to the toilet on your own, when you can’t help but soiling yourself because you have yet to regain control over your lower body functions? If you don’t know, you don’t ever want to find out. Gods was I relieved when it all turned out to be functioning properly after all...

And it’s not like it’s been the only health thing that affected me. I needed another eye surgery, for the Keratoconus developing in my right eye after we already had to do the left one last year, and I’ve been struggling to get used to it since then. First with my old glasses, now with the new ones I still cannot wear for more than like two hours at a time... - Oh, did I mention that insurance didn’t cover the 1700.- surgery by the way? Goodbye my savings I had been clinging onto...

And let us not forget that due to my immune system having gotten weaker, I also have this amazing pleasure of falling sick faster! Stomach flu? Come right in and stay three weeks! Dizziness? Hello darkness my old friend! Regular cold? Knock me out for four days, feel free to! Urgh -.-

Add to that a heap of spasms in my left leg that have been present all along, but got considerably worse now that winter rolled around. We know by not it’s not due to the tumor resurfacing (because it can do that, they couldn’t remove it entirely after all without cutting my nerves!) but can you imagine how nervous you get while waiting for the answer? And it’s not like the spasms are any help walking either, rendering me less mobile again after I had improved so much beforehand...

But enough of that. I could sadly go on and on here (I haven’t even brushed my mental stuff yet, oh boy...), but I’ll spare you that. It’s gotten long enough as it is anyhow... Let’s move on to other topics.

Work and Finances

Look, it’s not as though I had a job really when they found the tumor - or actually, yes it is. I may have been in an internship of sorts organized by disability services, but I had a job lined up where I could have started in January - Alas, it never happened. And seeing how I can no longer work my original job in retail (no electronics store will hire someone in a wheelchair. You can’t do the cleaning jobs, can’t fill the shelves and are slow to get around. Plus, how the fuck are you gonna fetch a 55′’ TV from the storage when a customer wants to buy it?), I am now actually trying to find a new purpose for myself. Gladly, disability services will help me with that... though it won’t be easy, and I dunno if I’ll be ready to start a new apprenticeship in summer like they hope. Cause it’s unlikely any spots will still be available...

Still, they are hopeful, and in order to get me back in the swing, they placed me in the same internship/training thing again, starting with just two hours daily. By now I’m in the office the entire morning on weekdays, and it’s going good so far. I’ll be there at least three more months.

And then, who knows? Maybe they’ll send me into finances and banking, or perhaps communal administration? We’ll see.

What is upsetting is the financial situation though. Due to being at rehab, I had to file for social aid - and the money they give me is very, very little for swiss measures. While I was at rehab, it was about 240, now it’s roughly 760 I get - even though I do actually get almost 3500 per month for the internship form disability services. But all that goes to social services to “pay off the debt”... Urgh >.>

For reference, an average 42 hours per week job in retail would pay between 3900 and 4200 per month. So yeah... Granted, they cover my health insurrance (which is 55o-ish per month, mind you!), but it’s still rough... The price levels here in Switzerland are just so damn high...

Social Life

Which leads me to this... I barely ever go out anymore these days. I can’t afford doing much, and what little I do afford is a pain to do due to the wheelchair. I can no longer just spontaneously go somewhere, or attend an event, I always need someone to drive me or even join me - and that inevitably leads to you not doing much anymore, you know?

I barely have any real contact with my rl friends anymore, I at most attend a MTG event every 3 months (PreReleases, nothing more sadly...), my DnD group also fell apart (though that was unrelated)... - Honestly, if it weren’t for you guys here online, especially those who talk to me on Discord and such, I’d be completely socially isolated, and that sucks. It sucks big time...

Gladly my girlfriend sticks with me, believes in me and loves me. Even if I can’t see her as much anymore, as we both can’t really afford the flights to visit each other, which is rather lonely too... We only managed to afford a few weeks in August together, when she visited me here with my room still unfinished. If the paraplegic foundation didn’t have the kindness to pay for her flights and hotel in March while I was still at rehab, that’d have been the only time I’d seen her this entire year....

So yeah. Things aren’t easy right now. Which is why I hope... next year will see improvements. It just has to...

Sceada’s Year in Review

When the last year ended, Sceada was a heartbroken virgin longing for affection and deeply missing the woman he loved, Leonora. He knew who he was though, a talented mage and a scholar of old languages who found work here and there, traveling wherever he pleased and slowly but surely building friendships with more and more people.

If you look at him now, he is instead riddled by insecurities, questions pretty much everything about himself to the point he is neglecting work at times in order to investigate his origins and maybe find his father. And the answers he longs for. Oh, he’s also entered a relationship with Maria and become - and here I quote Locke who was very, very pissed about this a few days ago - an accomplished lover.

But let’s look at things a bit more step by step, shall we?

A brief overview

Following Leonorâ’s prolonged absence, Sceada begins looking for other sources of affection, becoming rather flirty and sometimes even bold with Fran and Selphie, while deepening his friendship with Maria during their trip and afterwards

Sceada and Maria get rather close following him finding her having a nightmare, and staying with her to offer comfort

Leila captures the mage and, after tying him to her bed and appealing to his curiosity, takes his virginity. Later a second encounter occurs, where he they both are drunk at a Festival, before parting ways again.

Upon having spent Valentine’s Day with his friend Maria, Sceada discovers he has developed feelings for her. However, when voicing them, he finds them to be unrequited, and he tries to distance himself from her for a while.

Leonora finally returns, and during the initial happiness the two share a passionate night before the Sage encourages Sceada to follow his heart and pursue Maria, suggesting he could be or become polyamorous.

Sceada spends more time together with Maria, becoming closer again, but is content with just being friends. This changes when the pair are attacked by Coeurls, and Sceada nearly sacrifices himself to protect her, causing Maria to realize her feelings. When he recovers, the two become a pair, and slowly, over time, grow closer and closer.

Conflicted by his feelings for both Maria and Leonora (and to an extent, Leila as well...), Sceada seeks out a Goddess of Love, looking for advice. His silent hopes for reassurance in loving both women are however aptly crushed when the deity questions his motives for loving them, leading him to realize how much suppressed doubt and insecurity he has carried with himself.

Upon trying to tell Leonora more about Maria, Sceada’s motives are once again questioned, leading to an unfortunate argument that exposes a lack of trust on his end that Sceada had not been aware of. Unwilling to let herself be hurt by this any longer, Leonora suggests they part ways - they have not seen each other nor communicated in any way since then.

Sceada tries to forget about it all, hoping he could overcome it all with Maria’s love. However, when she wishes to take their relationship to the next step, he feels guilty over not having told her, and in the subsequent conversation many an uncomfortable truth and emotion are laid bare. Still, the pair reconcile, staying together and eventually consummate on their relationship.

Knowing that he will not be able to ignore the burning questions in his heart and mind any longer, Sceada begins to prepare to leave on a journey, just as the Goddess had suggested. He arranges for the eventuality that he might not return with his old rival Seshat Khnum, but before he can leave, Maria implores him to stay with her until the new year.

Making the most of this opportunity, Sceada holds his advent calendar again, and at the end of the year, attends the Garden Festival organized by Selphie.

Of course, there have been plenty of other plays as well, and I wouldn’t miss any of them. For example, Sceada finally opening up to Freya, or adventuring together with Jack in order to grab a certain book from the library of Burmecia, and all the shenanigans with little Stabby McStabstab Vani the Helfling Rogue - There was so much I adore, and not enough room here to mention them all. Just know that I loved all of our interactions!

A little note about the Smut

Yes, you read that right. I already mentioned stuff further up, but I still wanna note it here too, and add what’s missing up there.

We’ve already seen that he slept with Leila twice and Leonora once before he then got together with Maria, and well... let’s just say that those two may have taken a long time to get started, but haven’t been exactly innocent since - Sindays ahoy, is all I’ll say ;) But there have also been others, which I am not yet exactly certain whether to consider them canon to his main story, or separate cases - there’s merit in both, mind you, and I’ll probably ask the ladies involved eventually too. But who were they?

There is an as of yet unfinished thread with Fran, where the two engage in intimacies in a spring in the woods, after Sceada followed her and her enticing scent. One could argue that this is mainly heat relief, but it is not as though Sceada is exactly unwilling or that he is uninterested in the beautiful Viera...

The few encounters he’s had with Selphie were things got frisky somehow all share a similar pattern: Be it a playful argument, a bet they had or simply because sharing a bed leads to some “friction”, there is always something triggering the situation getting a bit more intimate and well... no one can deny that Selphie is a person you can have much fun with...

I also want to mention Aria, though the way our plays so far have played out, I kinda headcanon it as the two of them having been willing to get more physical three times so far, and Sceada stopping it each time because he noticed Aria wasn’t certain about it, and quite nervous, even afraid at times. And if there’s one thing he wants more than to avoid hurting her, it’s for her to enjoy this decision and not regret it... Perhaps the moment will still come, should we resume playing and point them in that direction.

There are two more ladies I played with, where things are rather kinky. One of them is on Discord and a fellow Black Mage, who’s been tons of tun to write with - the other a blog dedicated to sinful threads. I’ll refrain from naming either for now, as these two are likely to remain their own verses.

Final notes

Finally, I’d like to mention that there is also one more I play with on Discord after she left tumblr, and that her muse Anima is a pleasure to write with in all three verses we came up with. Also, I just wanna thank everyone who played with me this year, and I look forward to continue doing so - as well as meet new people!

Sceada will soon leave on his journey, and that means there is plenty of room for new friendships to be forged, and acquaintances to be made - or rivalries and enmities! I’m open for anything!

With that said, if you’re still reading this, I apologize for rambling for so long. I wish you a very, very good new year and thank you for putting up with me! Have fun tonight, have fun the entire next year, and I hope to interact with you again in 2018!!

Thanks for everything,

Patrick~

#ooc #Mun Info #Muse Info #sorry for how long I ramble again #I had somehow more to say than I expected #and still feel as though I haven't said it all #I'd better shut up now hehe #Have a nice year folks!!

4 notes · View notes

fasa-umich · 4 years

Text

Matt Ratanapanichkich, 2019-2020 FASA Co-President

If someone were to ask me: "What three words would best describe how you've felt over the course of the last year?", the only words that would come to mind are: Surprised, Proud, and Grateful. And as much as I would love for those three words to reduce to some elegant acronym, I truly can't find ones that are more true.

Surprised

FASA, even from the beginning, has surprised me. I always go back to the first time my lineage ate dinner together. The warmth and acceptance that they expressed to me that day is one that I will never forget, and those feelings have been associated with my perception of this organization ever since. For someone who had not gone to any prior events except for Winter Mass Meeting, they treated me truly like anyone should treat their adings: with love and respect. To think that complete strangers could make me feel so comfortable here... I have them to thank for the unforgettable experiences that I have had since. Kuya Christian, Ate Natalie, and Ate Colleen, thank you for giving me the home that I had no idea would change my life like it has.

But a while has passed since then, and in March of 2019, I was again surprised to learn that the family that gave me a home when I was a freshman chose to give the Presidency to my co-chair, AJ, and I. Even today, I still don't fully understand how the boy who joined late (but not too late!), became your friendly, neighborhood Historian, and only a year later, Co-President. And yet, I was honored all the same. Miracles do happen, and while I do acknowledge that a lot of work was done to get to that point, I'm sure that anyone who has run for an Executive Board can relate to the feeling that they may not be exactly the right person for the job. Everyone, from the bottom to the top, can feel like they are imposters, but it is their actions that validate those feelings or wash them away.

Proud

But I do have one more thing to say on that point: I hope from the bottom of my heart, that not a single person on my board feels as though they are an imposter after this year that they served FASA. I've said it before, but I am so, so proud of the things that we have accomplished together and the people that the boardies, my friends, have become. While growing is an undeniable part of being on E-Board, it is the speed and extent to which they did so that makes them some of the most capable people I have had the pleasure of working with. Each chair has done so much, overcome so many obstacles, and owned their work right to the very end, that they make my job easy, or as close to easy as a Presidency can get. And to that point, I would like to be a bit sappy for a moment, so if you would like to get through this testimonial without all the gushy stuff, you may skip to the next section. But I would suggest sticking around, if only to hear about how amazing these people are.

Lauren Escote, Media Chair

Lauren, you've heard me say it before, but just so it isn't forgotten: from the moment you became my intern last year, I knew that you would become a better Media Chair than I ever could have been. Granted, you are the first (technically), but oh boy, how high you've set the bar for those who follow in your footsteps. There is no doubt that Nursing is one of the most strenuous undergraduate programs at Michigan, and even under that weight, you never failed to create photos that make people feel how special they are, graphics that have excited our friends to attend events in numbers that we haven't seen (maybe ever), and a newsletter that has kept everyone in the know of any of the multitude of events that we took on this year. They might have called Historian the FASA photographer, but I only dare them to say the same to you.

Bea Fandino, Performance Chair

Bea, I know for a fact that you don't need me to laud you for your accomplishments this year; but then again, I'm going to do so anyways. You were such a strong leader coming into this year that you didn't even need to stand on the shoulders of giants- you stood tall alone (or almost alone #iykyk). From Kalayaan, to PCN, to Battle, and all of the little performances in between, you showed us what it means to perform at a high level, get things done efficiently, and have fun doing it. Dance practices don't have to be super serious. FASA Performance doesn't have to be about just music and dance. Performance has been a large part of the soul of FASA for such a long time, and through it, there's no doubt that you've influenced the whole of FASA for the better. I can't wait to see what you are able to do next.

Reggie Galanto, External Chair

Reggie, if there is anyone who has known the struggles of our board the best, it is probably you. The 2019-2020 school year has thrown FASA so many curve balls (to put it lightly), many times through the typical External channels, that I can easily say that I am so proud of how well you've done this year. Even from the beginning, when you fought for what you believed, but stayed professional when the cards didn't fall in the way that we wanted, I knew that you were going to be someone on our team that could be trusted to do exactly what I expected from all members on the board: to push where we needed it, and compromise when we needed their energy elsewhere. And from then on, tackling the never-ending problem of needing to be everywhere at once, working with people with priorities that didn't always match our own, up against circumstances that none of us could control, I hope that you are proud of the things that you've accomplished in the face of all of that. The measure of a person is what they can do with the cards that they're dealt, and I would argue that even at face-value, the work that you've done, especially in pushing for FASA to focus more on advocacy and community-building, has steered us in a direction that will shape our community into one that even our current board won’t be able to imagine.

Hannah Anderson, Service Chair

Hannah, even from the beginning, I knew that we would be in good hands in Service. The amount of work that you did behind-the-scenes for your chair was truly inspiring, but even more importantly, you embodied everything that I’ve ever wanted in a teammate better than nearly anyone else: your competence in your role was only matched by your willingness to help everyone on the board carry out their duties. While your chair is notable because of its independence from the operations of the board and dependence on organizations beyond the collegiate level, in spite of it all, you gave FASA an outlet to give back to the communities that have given us everything, which is undoubtedly one of the most important functions of FASA as a whole. But beyond all of that, you displayed a willingness to bring new life into the role and into the board, with the rollout of Mental Health Mondays, designing what will become a more structured alumni program, and collaborating with Jacque and Christine on the creation of an entirely new chair in Professional Development. AJ and I’ve always said that before even your chair, all board members are members of the board, and I would just like to thank you again for being exactly that.

Christian Magno, Social Chair

Mango, what a wild ride. To think that my first real interaction with you was at FACT 2018, I’m sure that anyone who knew you back then would be nothing but proud of the person you’ve become. Creating and overseeing events that are supposed to be fun above all else is a task that is deceivingly difficult, but tacking on your and Jacque’s goal of integrating culture into everything that we do is one that I would personally find extremely challenging. And yet, there is no doubt that you and your co’s work this year has done just that: even apart from my role as Co-President, I’ve never felt more at home. From our youngest members to those that I’ve known from the very beginning, I’m happy to say that I’ve gotten to know them better than I had in the last two and a half years in FASA. And for that, I hope you are as proud as I am.

Jacque Young, Social Chair

Jacque, the athlete that could talk the ears off of even the shyest of people. It’s hilarious to think that while we have the same personality type (allegedly), I could never in a million years even imagine myself as Social Chair, while you are the very embodiment of it. Your ideas for Social and the board were among the most ambitious, notably your push for Professional Development, and from someone who has had the opportunity to be on countless teams: it is so much better to be on a team that can crank out legitimately creative ideas and then reduce them to something that can actually be accomplished than to be on teams that stick to what has been done before. Your clear perspective on all board things was one that I always listened for, and I can only wish that my teammates outside of board could copy the way that you approached your work with energy and empathy. Above all, I hope that your performance on board can serve as confirmation that not only is one’s major not important to their ability to be a good board member, but their commitments should not stand in the way of their contributions to FASA, if only they have the discipline and love for this community that you do.

Kaitlyn Barron, Cultural Chair

Kaitlyn, one half of the heartbeat of FASA. Out of all of the boardies, I think I knew you the least before coming onto board. Little did I know that you would become part of the powerhouse duo of Co-Culture that never ceased to inspire the rest of the board. Working with Izzy several days of the week over the summer (I even remember that there was a point where you and Izzy had calls every single day), I was absolutely floored that you two would put in so much effort for an event that was more than half a year away. But boy did it pay off. I can safely say that PCN 2019 is one that will be remembered for a very long time; if not for the speaker, if not for the history-imbued storyline, PACE-MI, or the performances, then for the way it made us all feel. PCN is a celebration of our culture, but it is also a celebration of how each and every one of us are an important part of that culture as well. And of course, you know that better than anyone else (except maybe your co!). But even apart from your role as part of the cultural duo, you, as a singular member of the board, are someone I would love to have as a teammate again. You are so on the ball about everything, so willing to throw your hat into the ring, and you have an energy that reminded me every meeting why I decided to run for board again. Being a nurse is hard by itself, but the way that you balanced your role in FASA with your studies and had energy leftover is a testament to how lucky any team would be to have you on it.

Izzy Poquiz, Cultural Chair

Izzy, if Kaitlyn was FASA’s heart, then this year, you were its soul. Together, the two of you pulled off a reimagining of what FASA stood for that continuously reminded me why, even after I’m no longer on FASA’s E-Board, that I will be sticking around. While AJ and I made it a priority to make sure culture was at the heart of everything we do as a board, you and Kaitlyn not only made that idea a reality, but inspired the rest of the board to do the same in each of their positions. Being a leader in a cultural organization is tough: there are so many people with different ideas of what FASA should be that it is sometimes crushing to stand at the front. But you and Kaitlyn did everything with such conviction, empathy, and clarity of vision that there is no criticism that could diminish what you two accomplished together. And just as Kaitlyn was an irreplaceable part of our board outside of her role as Co-Cultural, you proved to be just as irreplaceable. Your combination of organizational ability, creativity, vision, and empathy made you a key leader amongst all of the great ones that our board was blessed with, and your voice was one that held more weight than I think that you realized. I can only imagine what you will be able to accomplish in the future, but from your performance this year, I know that I will be nothing but proud.

Natalie Lampa, Treasurer

Natalie, I can’t express how happy I am that I was able to serve on board with you this year. My other half of the Techtorian duo, I knew back then that if we were to carry out all of the ideas that the board was planning, we would need someone that was level-headed, knew FASA deeply, and had the organizational and writing abilities to keep the lights on. Our board was an ambitious one, and I can say that your guidance was one of the things that helped us make this year one that I will remember for the rest of my life. While I can understand why seniors wouldn’t want to serve on the Executive Board, you showed just how valuable the input is from someone who has seen it all happen before. Thank you, Ate: you made FASA feel like home for me when I was a freshman, and even as your undergraduate years come to an end, you have continued and will continue to do so for so many others.

Angela Salacata, Secretary

Angela, the return of the cultural queen! Like your ading, Bea, you don’t need me to reiterate the things you’ve done for FASA. But that won’t stop me from saying that I am grateful for having you as part of our Core Four. Your insight and sharp wit has always challenged me to be a better leader, and it’s definitely not a stretch to say that I look up to you in many ways. FASA wouldn’t be where it is without you, and for anyone who thought that cultural chair would be the end was only kidding themselves. Even beyond your duties as Secretary, taking on choreography for PCN as well as LITERALLY COMPOSING THE MUSIC THAT WE DANCED TO FOR BATTLE, your FASA accomplishments are unmatched. Future roomie, I am proud just to say I served on a board with you one last time.

AJ Espinoza, Co-President

AJ, what can I say that hasn’t already been said? It's been a rollercoaster, with this year being an extension of the one that we've been riding since freshman year. And from when we first met to now, I'd say that we've grown a little. Just a little. And I've said it before, a lot of it was because of the type of leader and person you are; I've always wanted to take just a little bit of that, and make myself just a little closer to the person I hope to be. But there are things that we can't learn from each other, and the things we've seen and done on this board are a good example of that. So while I think we both got a lot more than we bargained for, I couldn't have done it without you by my side. I'm proud that we built a few things that I think are going to last, and I'm grateful that it was you that went through the ringer with me. May we continue having our hour(s) long talks together, about FASA and not, into our last year and beyond. (But then again, hopefully we can get a bit more sleep when all of this is over...)

Grateful

I'm grateful to be here. I'm grateful to have had a chance to come back and serve a community I love. I'm grateful to have served with a team that I won't forget for the rest of my life. I'm grateful to have grown with these people, and to have grown with FASA. Our community is getting larger and larger every semester, and I'm just so excited to see where it all goes. Some of my friends from this year, on board and not, new friends and old, will probably go on to see another board. Or maybe join boards of other organizations. Or maybe just be the general members that we all wished to be at one point or another. But the fact is, I wouldn't have traded this time with FASA for anything. You all have taught me so much. You've given me opportunities that I couldn't have imagined. You've allowed me to touch more lives than I ever could have alone. And now, it's time that you give the opportunity of being Co-President to two other leaders.

Four generations of Presidents

So to the aspiring Co-Presidents:

The funny thing is that I already know who you are. I don't know which two will sit where AJ and I have necessarily, but I do know that it is one of you who I've served with this year. So the first thing I have to say is this: FASA is in good hands.

But the second is: always remember that first thing. Depending on what kind of people you are, there will be times in your tenure that you might forget. Times where you don't feel qualified or knowledgeable or ready to make the hard decision. The fact is: maybe you aren't. But that shouldn't stop you from becoming qualified, knowledgeable and therefore ready. Being Co-President isn't about knowing or having all the right answers. I've personally, definitely had ideas that were wrong. Many, in fact. But what you have is a board to support you, and a Co to bounce ideas off of, and old friends that are always willing to offer you any wisdom that can be had from just a few years in your shoes. You're never alone, just as your boardies are never alone. You might have a fancy title, but only together can you get through anything.

A caveat though: always be decisive. You might not have the answer right now. Your boardies might not have the answer right now. But being Co-President comes with the fact that the buck stops with you. In the end, for the many decisions that have to be made that don't require a 3/4ths vote from the board, your word is the decision. So give your board something to stand behind. Make a decision, stand by it, and admit you're wrong when you are. Because at least, if you are wrong, your board knows that they can trust that you believe in and act according to what you say.

Another thing: being Co-President is not babysitting. The amazing leaders on your board are fully-grown adults, and you should always hold them to that standard, if not higher. They don't need to be coddled, they need to be supported. They shouldn't need to be reprimanded, they need to know that their leaders have their backs. Because when you give them freedom, when you give them your confidence, it is up to them to uphold it. They might not always agree with you, and they might still be learning to be the professional leader that you expect them to be, but in the end, they are capable of so much. And sometimes, they just need to hear it from you.

Finally, remember that you set the tone of the entire board, and further, of FASA itself. Once you become Co-President, not only do you become the leader of your board, you become the face of FASA. The implication: you can decide how you want your boardies and FASA to feel for this upcoming year. And really, that is your choice. There will be those, on and off your board, who might want you to be super professional. Or super social. Or super laid-back. Or any number of things. But then again, it is your choice. Be empathetic of the concerns of your friends and community, but do what you think is right. What we've done before can be a good template, what others are doing can be a good plan, but what you actually do should be what you think is right. Remember that and I promise that everything will end up great. Not perfectly as planned, not smoothly, and likely not great without adjustment, but great in the end.

So to sum it all up:

Always remember that you are qualified

You aren't alone

Be decisive

Stand behind your words

Admit when you're wrong

Your job won't be babysitting

Hold your board to a high standard

You set the tone of both your board and FASA as a whole

Do what you think is right.

Notice that I didn't mention anything about organization, planning, strategy, skills you need or anything like that. Why? Because I already know what you're capable of; I've seen it, and I already know that you're going to do great.

But let me get off my soapbox for the last time.

How could you say no to a smile like that?

To FASA, again:

Thank you. Being able to serve the community that made Michigan feel like home, as much as I complain about it, has been nothing but an honor. And you can bet that you haven't seen the last of me, for better and for worse. Because, how could I stay away? I am endlessly fond and proud of this year's freshmen, the sophomores have proved to be some of my closest friends, the juniors inspire me every day with what they have and are currently accomplishing, and the seniors continue to be the Ates and Kuyas that make this community worth sticking around for. So while I won't be coming back as a board member in my final year, I guess you'll just have to catch me dancing in AJ's tinikling choreo this upcoming November... Maybe.

Only the most high-quality facial expressions...

Mahal na mahal kita, FASA. Always.

Matt Ratanapanichkich, FASA Co-President

#2019.20 #FASAPrez

0 notes

junker-town · 4 years

Text

The 5 most fireable NFL coaches of this season

Jason Garrett’s days with the Cowboys are likely numbered after a disappointing 2019 season.

Whose seats are hottest after disappointing seasons? The answers ... probably won’t surprise you.

The NFL’s most embattled head coaches have just one week left to state their cases. Dec. 30 will be the last day of employment for most of the playcallers who wind up fired.

This year’s Black Monday may be a slower day than usual. While last year’s preferred firing day claimed six head coaches, some of this season’s least promising sideline generals have already earned support from team ownership. The Jets will keep Adam Gase around for year two. Matt Patricia’s done enough in his 3-11-1 season to oversee a third year in Detroit. Even Doug Marrone, now free from Tom Coughlin’s tyranny, could get another chance to restore the Jaguars to “not bad.”

Before we get to the list, let’s deviate from the way we’ve sorted these coaches in the past few weeks. Typically, “fireable” doesn’t mean a coach is necessarily going to be fired. It refers to how poorly those coaches performed in a given week and any recent trends working against them. For example, Frank Reich made last week’s list after the Colts allowed Drew Brees to have the most accurate game in NFL passing history. He’s not getting canned, but Reich’s team has failed to live up to its potential while coming off its fourth straight loss.

This time, in honor of the upcoming season finale, we’re looking at all-around resumes on top of what happened in Week 16. Let’s zero in on the five guys most likely to be looking for employment. That means coaches who probably deserve to be fired, but won’t (Gase, Patricia), escaped the final rankings. Secure coaches who brain farted their way to a loss on Sunday are safe as well ... until we come back to these rankings next fall.

So who’s on the chopping block after a trying 2019?

5. Dan Quinn, Falcons

Atlanta was 1-7 after Week 9, good enough to give Quinn the shortest odds of a midseason firing in the NFL. Since then, he’s gone 5-2, including wins over two of the NFC’s top teams (the Saints and 49ers). That hot streak added another victim Sunday when the Falcons dispatched a sputtering Jaguars squad.

It’s been a significant turnaround on both sides of the ball. The Falcons’ offense has become more efficient, while their defense has tightened up to create opportunities over the last seven weeks.

So what will team owner Arthur Blank do about his head coach? No one’s really quite sure!

Quinn has three factors working in his favor; the recent surge that shows off his ability to adapt, the continuity that comes with standing by a five-year veteran at the helm, and a locker room that, per a former Falcons’ public relations executive, still listens to, believes in, and respects him.

On a plane back to LA and just wrote this. I’m gonna share it bc a couple years back @ZachKleinWSB did something similar and this is my 2019 version to everyone who’s followed me over the years. I’m sure I’m gonna get a lot of great comments but I hope it gives you perspective pic.twitter.com/iCJ1zT3Et9

— Brian Cearns (@BKCearns) December 23, 2019

Quinn’s put in the work to keep his job over the back half of the season, even if 2019 will be remembers as a letdown for a talent roster. The question is whether his late-season progress will be too little, too late.

4. Doug Marrone, Jaguars

Will Marrone be held accountable for his team’s continued collapse from 2017’s lofty perch? Or will Tom Coughlin’s firing give him the leeway needed to earn another year in Jacksonville?

That’s the question owner Shad Khan will have to ask himself this week. Marrone got the Jags closer to the Super Bowl than all but one other coach in franchise history ... and that was Coughlin. The old-school disciplinarian oversaw a franchise that was responsible for one-quarter of the grievances filed by the NFL Players Association in the past year. He chased away talent like Jalen Ramsey (traded for two first-round picks) and had issues with Jaguars both former and current.

This limited what Marrone could do as a head coach, but Jacksonville’s issues go beyond mismanagement at the top. This year’s team has only been marginally more efficient through the air than it was in 2018 when Blake Bortles was playing his way out of Florida. Leonard Fournette’s stellar start to the season (791 yards, 4.9 yards per carry in his first eight games) has ground down to mediocrity without the threat of a high-impact passing game (361 yards, 3.5 YPC in the seven games since). A defense that had been a top-10 staple now ranks 29th in defensive efficiency, per DVOA.

Khan was mum on Marrone’s future after Week 15. That non-endorsement gave way to reports he’d be retained for one last go-round to see what he can do free of Coughlin’s influence.

From @NFLGameDay: There is a "good chance" #Jaguars coach Doug Marrone and GM Dave Caldwell return in 2020 following the firing of EVP Tom Coughlin, sources say... and Tony Khan could take on an increased role. pic.twitter.com/85Jw7YE4MX

— Ian Rapoport (@RapSheet) December 22, 2019

Marrone led the Jaguars within one quarter of Super Bowl 52. That bought him a redo after a disappointing 2018. Now he may get one more if Coughlin truly is the scapegoat he’s made out to be.

3. Pat Shurmur, Giants

Shurmur got what he needed from Daniel Jones Sunday: a historical five-touchdown performance and a win over Washington. Under his guidance, Saquon Barkley had the best day of his career and one of the most productive games of 2019 (279 total yards). So why is Shurmur back on the list despite a two-game winning streak?

Because ...

a) it came against Washington and

b) the Giants’ issues outside of their inconsistent offense may be too much for him to overcome.

New York gave up a 14-point fourth-quarter lead, allowing Case Keenum to go 99 yards on Washington’s final drive of regulation to tie the game at 35. While Jones was able to rectify that problem by leading his team to a game-winning touchdown, Week 16 failed to dispel the fatal flaws that could lead to Shurmur’s ousting after two years.

The Giants let Keenum and Dwayne Haskins — who left the game with an ankle injury — throw for three touchdowns and nearly eight yards per pass (a 125.1 passer rating). That undermanned defense has given up more points than all but three other teams. It also ranks 29th when it comes to opponent passing efficiency.

That’s all led to a 4-11 record lowlighted by a nine-game losing streak in the middle of the season. New York’s only wins have come against 3-12 Washington (twice), the 4-11 Dolphins, and the 7-8 Buccaneers.

On the plus side, Shurmur’s built camaraderie within the Giants’ locker room — he’s even got Jones and Eli Manning partying together in the dorkiest way possible — and appears to be every bit a players’ coach.

Shurmur on the Giants night of flip cup celebrations: “they’re grown men and they look after each other and they were celebrating a victory, they should have invited me!” *laughs*

— Madelyn Burke (@MadelynBurke) December 23, 2019

Though the team’s dream of adding Chase Young to its pass rush probably died with Week 16’s win, defensive help is still likely on the way. If the Giants believe they can patch up the blocking and secondary issues that have plagued them, Shurmur may get one more chance to prove he can turn Jones into a legitimate franchise quarterback.

Of course, owner John Mara could just look at his 9-22 record over the past two seasons and decide to gamble on a different quarterback whisperer instead.

2. Freddie Kitchens, Browns

Cleveland had the ball and a 6-0 lead at the two-minute warning in the second quarter against the Ravens. Kitchens found a way to turn that into a 14-6 halftime deficit.

Granted, some of that collapse was thanks to Lamar Jackson’s otherworldly play, but Kitchens did his offense few favors with too-cute playcalling and some regrettable clock management. His halfback pass on third-and-1 fooled nobody, and the fact it went for an 8-yard loss may have been the only thing that kept him from going for it on fourth down from his own 28.

Freddie Kitchens on the sequence at the end of the first half, throwing on third-and-10. (He also confirmed that the Hunt third-and-1 play the drive before was a halfback pass, and that they would’ve gone for it on fourth-and-short) pic.twitter.com/aiQ87JLdcm

— Jake Trotter (@Jake_Trotter) December 22, 2019

The Ravens, out of timeouts, scored on the following drive. And they scored on the drive after that because three straight incompletions only ate up 18 seconds of game clock, effectively daring Jackson to burn them once more. It was another brutal gut-punch in a season full of them for the erstwhile AFC North favorites.

Confusing clock management is just the tip of the iceberg when it comes to Kitchens’ problems. The first-year head coach’s promotion was predicated on his ability to turn Cleveland’s turgid offense into one of the league’s most dangerous units. He made Baker Mayfield look like a borderline MVP candidate after taking over as interim offensive coordinator. Then he took that team and added All-Pros Odell Beckham Jr. and Kareem Hunt (for half a season).

And the Browns have gone from ranking 12th in the league in weighed DVOA in 2018 to 23rd in 2019.

Beckham, still fiercely committed to the team that freed him from New York last spring, took notice — one week after Jarvis Landry had a similarly public discussion with his head coach over playcalling.

I'm sure OBJ is fine pic.twitter.com/o7t8hywE0l

— CJ Fogler (@cjzero) December 22, 2019

Kitchens is losing on the field and potentially losing in his own locker room. That all spells disaster for his hopes of returning for a year two. But maybe team owner John Dorsey will chalk this all up to rookie mistakes and give him the runway to learn from and fix those issues.

1 Jason Garrett, Cowboys

Garrett may have seen his last shot to keep his job march off the turf as the Eagles celebrated the 17-9 win that moved them to the top of the NFC East. The underachieving Cowboys, stuck in a feedback loop of botched calls and big, meaningless performances, dropped to 7-8 and out of the playoff picture.

That may signal the end of the Garrett era in Dallas. The 10-year veteran is staring down what could be only his second losing season as the Cowboys’ head coach, but the lingering sense he always could have done more will ultimately be his undoing. None of his teams embody that more than the 2019 edition.

Even though the Cowboys have all the talent of a contender, the combination of a tough schedule and a crippling inability to step up a big stage has dropped them to the periphery of the playoff race. By most metrics, Dallas should have clinched its division in a down year for the NFC East. It ranks first in the NFL in total yards, eighth in scoring, and eighth in yards allowed per play.

Advanced stats love the Cowboys. Not just DVOA. They're a top-ten team by DVOA, by @pfref SRS, by EPA. But the point of the game isn't to do well in advanced metrics. It's to win. And they didn't do that enough.

— Aaron Schatz (@FO_ASchatz) December 23, 2019

Instead, Jerry Jones’ team needs to beat Washington and hope the Giants upset the Eagles in Week 17 just to sneak into the postseason. Sunday’s loss in Philly dropped Garrett to 2-6 against teams with winning records in 2019.

Dak Prescott’s breakthrough season — he ranks among the NFL’s top five in passing yards, passing touchdowns, and QBR — is about to go to waste on the worst team, by record, of his career. A defense that got its best-case scenario in terms of injury (only Leighton Vander Esch has missed more than four games this season among the team’s starters) held the Saints, Patriots, and Eagles to 17 points or fewer this season and lost all three of those games. It hasn’t been all roses for that unit, which ranks 20th in defensive efficiency, per DVOA, but it still has given the ‘Boys several opportunities to win big games.

The gap between potential and production in Dallas is sizable. There’s one man who’ll shoulder the blame for that disparity, and it’s the same guy who has come under fire each time the Cowboys make an early playoff exit or struggle down the stretch. Garrett can still save his job by carrying Dallas to a surprising postseason run, though he’ll need the stars to align.

And if he does, all signs point to the Cowboys blowing it. That’s what they’ve done throughout 2019.

0 notes

bigyack-com · 4 years

Text

This Is What Racism Sounds Like in the Banking Industry

Jimmy Kennedy earned $13 million during his nine-year career as a player in the National Football League. He was the kind of person most banks would be happy to have as a client.But when Mr. Kennedy tried to become a “private client” at JPMorgan Chase, an elite designation that would earn him travel discounts, exclusive event invitations and better deals on loans, he kept getting the runaround.At first, he didn’t understand why. Then, last fall, he showed up at his local JPMorgan branch in Arizona, and an employee offered an explanation.“You’re bigger than the average person, period. And you’re also an African-American,” the employee, Charles Belton, who is black, told Mr. Kennedy. “We’re in Arizona. I don’t have to tell you about what the demographics are in Arizona. They don’t see people like you a lot.” Mr. Kennedy recorded the conversation and shared it with The New York Times.It’s no secret that racism has been baked into the American banking system. There are few black executives in the upper echelons of most financial institutions. Leading banks have recently paid restitution to black employees for isolating them from white peers, placing them in the poorest branches and cutting them off from career opportunities. Black customers are sometimes profiled, viewed with suspicion just for entering a bank and questioned over the most basic transactions.This year, researchers for the National Bureau of Economic Research found that black mortgage borrowers were charged higher interest rates than white borrowers and were denied mortgages that would have been approved for white applicants.Banks, including JPMorgan, say they are committed to eradicating the legacy of racism. And they insist that any lingering side effects simply reflect stubborn socioeconomic imbalances in society as a whole, not racial bias among their employees.What recently transpired inside a cluster of JPMorgan branches in the Phoenix area suggests that is not true.Mr. Kennedy was told he was essentially too black. His financial adviser, Ricardo Peters, complained that he, too, was a victim of racial discrimination. What makes their cases extraordinary is not that the two men say they faced discrimination. It is that they recorded their interactions with bank employees, preserving a record of what white executives otherwise might have dismissed as figments of the aggrieved parties’ imaginations.Patricia Wexler, a JPMorgan spokeswoman, denied that the bank discriminated against Mr. Peters or Mr. Kennedy. She said that the bank hadn’t been aware of the audio recordings and that “in light of some new information brought to us by The New York Times,” the company put one of its executive directors on administrative leave while the bank investigates his conduct.

The Back of the Branch

Mr. Peters started his career at JPMorgan as a salesman in the bank’s credit cards division. After about eight years in various roles, he was promoted to a financial adviser position in Phoenix in 2016. His job was to help bank customers prudently invest their money.Mr. Peters had won numerous performance awards at the bank, but things soon started going wrong for him. He was working in a JPMorgan branch in the affluent Sun City West area of Phoenix. He sought a promotion to become a private client adviser, a job that would have let him work with wealthier and more lucrative clients.The promotion never came. Instead, Mr. Peters was moved out of an office at the heart of the branch where he worked with other financial advisers and was relegated to a windowless room in the back.In April 2017, one of his bosses, Frank Venniro, told Mr. Peters that another manager had accused him of taking customers’ files home at night, a violation of the bank’s code of conduct. Mr. Peters denied it, and Mr. Venniro accepted that he was telling the truth, according to a recording of the conversation. But, he added, Mr. Peters needed to be more cognizant of how his colleagues perceived him. Mr. Peters was left with the impression that his managers, who were white, were predisposed to view him suspiciously. Could he prove it? No. What happened next was clearer.Mr. Peters complained to Mr. Venniro that another financial adviser was trying to steal a prospective client: a woman who had just received a $372,000 wrongful death settlement after her son died. She was black.Mr. Venniro told Mr. Peters that there was no point in his intervening in the dispute, because the woman was not a worthwhile client. “You’ve got somebody who’s coming from Section 8, never had a nickel to spend, and now she’s got $400,000,” Mr. Venniro said, referring to the federal program that provides vouchers to help with housing costs and whose title is sometimes used as a racial slur. “What do you think’s going to happen with that money? It’s gone.”“But I thought that’s why we get involved,” Mr. Peters protested.Mr. Venniro said no. “You’re not investing a dime for this lady,” he said. He knew from experience that she would quickly burn through the money. “It happens every single time.”When Mr. Peters tried to argue, Mr. Venniro interjected. “This is not money she respects,” he said. “She didn’t earn it.”Mr. Venniro declined to comment. Ms. Wexler, the bank spokeswoman, said that Mr. Venniro was put on leave after inquiries from The Times and that he resigned last Thursday. “Our employee used extraordinarily bad judgment and was wrong to suggest we couldn’t help a customer,” she said. She said Mr. Venniro knew the client was in subsidized housing but didn’t know her race.

Marching Orders

In February 2018, Mr. Peters was transferred from the Sun City West branch to a JPMorgan branch in a less wealthy neighborhood. He perceived it as another example of managers, including Mr. Venniro, mistreating him because he was black. One day, Mr. Peters met Mr. Kennedy, then 38. Mr. Kennedy had played for five N.F.L. teams as a defensive tackle. In 2011, he had joined the New York Giants — a homecoming that, The Times wrote at the time, was notable because of his impoverished childhood in Yonkers, N.Y. That season, Mr. Kennedy and the Giants won the Super Bowl.Mr. Kennedy retired and later moved to Phoenix. JPMorgan bankers had been courting his business, but he hadn’t liked the financial advisers the bank had proposed to manage his investments. Then he met Mr. Peters. “The chemistry was just so real because he knew exactly what I needed to do,” Mr. Kennedy said in an interview.In the summer of 2018, Mr. Kennedy gradually moved $800,000 to the bank. Mr. Peters and a colleague promised he would get “private client” status, which was reserved for accounts with more than $250,000. Landing a wealthy client like Mr. Kennedy was a big win for Mr. Peters, but he was anxious about being targeted by his superiors. On Aug. 24, he filed a formal complaint with the bank. He said he had alerted Mr. Venniro “that I feel that I am being treated differently because of my race and color of my skin” and that Mr. Venniro had suggested that the solution was for him to work in the less-wealthy branch.Less than two weeks later, JPMorgan agreed to pay $24 million to end a class-action lawsuit brought by other black employees who said the company had discriminated against them — in some cases by isolating them from colleagues and dumping them in poorer branches.On Oct. 5, Mr. Venniro took Mr. Peters to a meeting room and said he was being fired. Mr. Venniro said he didn’t know why. “I’m just given marching orders,” Mr. Venniro told him, according to a recording of the conversation.Mr. Peters filed a discrimination claim with the federal Equal Employment Opportunity Commission and the civil rights division of the Arizona attorney general’s office, accusing JPMorgan of racial discrimination. JPMorgan denied that and said Mr. Peters was fired for improperly assigning credit for a new client to an employee who managers didn’t think deserved it. “We stand by our decision to terminate Peters,” Ms. Wexler, the spokeswoman, said. “The facts are indisputable.” Mr. Peters disputed the facts. He said that he had given credit to the correct employee. He said the bank was using a mundane internal dispute as an excuse to fire him. He has since started his own investment advisory firm in Arizona.

‘If This Dude Gets Upset’

Mr. Peters’s termination left Mr. Kennedy in the lurch. A number of his transactions were frozen or not carried out. In one case, $92,000 of Mr. Kennedy’s money that was supposed to go into a new investment product ended up in a holding account, inaccessible to Mr. Kennedy. (Ms. Wexler said the problems were caused by administrative errors.)JPMorgan assigned him a new financial adviser, Mr. Belton. He struck Mr. Kennedy as inexperienced. He was black, and Mr. Kennedy felt that was the only reason they’d been paired. Mr. Kennedy said he began recording their conversations so he could get feedback from other people about Mr. Belton’s financial recommendations. Mr. Kennedy had been under the impression that he had been granted the coveted “private client” status that Mr. Peters had promised. When Mr. Kennedy learned that was not the case, he complained to Mr. Belton — and then to Mr. Venniro. Mr. Belton warned Mr. Kennedy not to talk to Mr. Venniro again. In two secretly recorded conversations in October last year, he asked Mr. Kennedy to think about the impression he left on people at the bank. He pointed out that Mr. Kennedy was a big black man in Arizona. And he said that Mr. Venniro had been afraid to tell Mr. Kennedy that his application to become a private client had been deleted when Mr. Peters was fired.A few days later, Mr. Kennedy went back to the branch, and the conversation returned to the question of why the bank refused to grant Mr. Kennedy the status and perks of being a private client. Mr. Belton said that bank employees were scared of dealing with him and that therefore Mr. Kennedy would be better off interacting only with Mr. Belton.“They’re not going to say this, but I don’t have the same level of intimidation that they have — you know what I’m saying? — not only being a former athlete but also being two black men,” Mr. Belton said. Referring to Mr. Venniro, he added, “You sit in front of him, you’re like three times his size — you feel what I’m saying? — he already probably has his perception of how these interactions could go.”Moments later, he said: “We’ve seen people that are not of your stature get irate, and it’s like, ‘Well, if this dude gets upset, like what’s going to happen to me?’”Mr. Kennedy asked if Mr. Belton was saying that Mr. Venniro was racist. “I don’t think any person at that level is dumb enough for it to be that blatant,” Mr. Belton replied. “I don’t have any reason to believe blatantly that he’s that way. You feel what I’m saying? Now, whether there’s some covert action? To be honest? I always err on the side of thinking that. You know, people that are not us probably have some form of prejudice toward us.”Mr. Kennedy pulled most of his money out of JPMorgan and filed a grievance with an industry watchdog, and in June the bank sent him a letter trying to put an end to his complaining. “You stated that Mr. Belton informed you that our firm was prejudiced against you and intimidated by you because of your race,” the letter said. “We found no evidence to substantiate your allegations.” Read the full article

0 notes

itheclumsymillentialblr · 5 years

Text

How I regretfully lost my first girlfriend, the first person I truly loved.

I love/loved her so much, but its my fault why we are over.

Just like how most couples meet, we met online thru a dating app. I admit I kept in contact with her during that time because I’ve got nothing else to do, until I asked her if she wanted to go out with me. I think asking her out was our first disagreement because I was bothered with her curfew, but in the end I was the one who adjusted because she is a super cute human being.

On our first date I took her at Wagging Tails cafe at maginhawa street Quezon City. The first thing I noticed about her was the visible scar in her chest, I still find it kinda cute though. We shared each others thoughts during that day, I was happy when she smiles every-time I try to pull something funny.

Ever since that day I committed myself into pursuing her, because she’s a catch.

II.

Weeks and months after she was fully confident around me. I knew most of her secrets, her thoughts at work, her past which she did not deserve, and that made me fall into her more. We pursued what we have and I can already tell she was falling in love with me, I can see it through her actions.

III.

She did something she’s not supposed to do and I caught her. It really bothered my why she did what she did. “Can I still trust her?”,“is she gonna do it again?”. But that was the day that she admitted that she loved me. I forgave her and I said I love you back. Why shouldn’t I say it back she was my perfect little angel, until I destroyed everything.

IV.

Despite not having a label after admitting that we love each other already. We had a lot of struggles during that stage. Her work hours was one of the toughest because she goes out of work very late and it shortens our dating hours. I complied either way, for quite sometime. I loved her so I drifted apart/sacrificed some of my friends, I didn’t regret it at that time. As a couple our biggest struggle was being cyber-bullied/harassed by toy collector fanatics. Although its was my fault they fired at us, what they did was too far and below-the-belt. We were both bothered by that incident but being together solves everything.

One evening during ber months 2018. She admitted she’s having mental issues. I was mad at first because the process of explaining what she’s going through is making me a punching bag for her. But I reconciled with her that night and I promised her to always be there when she needs help. Apparently I failed that part.

VI.

The day she made it official and I get to personally meet some of her family members. I still can’t feel my face remembering that day. I mean-- I finally have a girlfriend after existing 23 years in God’s Grace, and God provided me a beautiful little angel that I did not deserve.

VII.

She’s experiencing a loss and I tried my best to cheer her up, at some point she did. That was a good month for us. Little do I know I’m gonna fuck things up for us, for her.

I really don’t know what gotten into me but at some point my temper shortened and I get annoyed so easily. It bothered her. But I did something that made her have doubt about me.

VIII

One night after a video call. She messaged me about a girl I added on facebook. Annoyed, I told her that was nothing. I wasn’t able to go back to sleep that night which resulted me staying home not being able to work. I bombarded her with text messages to make her feel bad about that matter.

I realized it was wrong and I am very sorry for it.

IX.

After that I kept messing things up, until we had that talk and told me she needed some space because I changed. I obliged, said my I love you and let her rest. I wasn’t expecting her to contact me the day after but she did. She regret having a heavy discussion with me. She gave me her another chance. Unfortunately I fucked it up again because I’m a piece of trash that doesn’t do good things in life.

Our last date. It was a rough start for me that day, because I didn’t get a heads up from the office that work is canceled so my mind is ticked off. She’s not doing well on that day also because she’s experiencing pain through her lower abdomen. I’ve made a comment about that I have regret saying ever since. She kept silent about it until the day after tomorrow.

XI.

The day we(she) broke up(with me). I thought it was gonna be another normal day for me, for us. She woke me up so I won’t be late, I made my deposit for the hotel for our LU trip that not gonna happen anymore. And I’m gonna go to Eastwood to spent time with you. But then before my office shift is about to end she sent me a text message saying she wanna talk about something later. I already knew what it was, I felt it. Upon meeting her and saying the reason why she wanted it over I was falling apart. I am losing her for the things that I did. Unintentional or intentional it was my fault. I haven’t been the same since. I wandered and met a friend thinking it could help, it didn’t I lost everything that day.

XII.

I have been begging her to come back to me but all the things I said made her drift away from me even more. I have been drinking re-connecting with old friends, trying a lot of new shit thinking it could mask up the pain that I caused I didn’t I will never be the same without her and I am responsible for that. You were the best thing that happened to me. Even if it was unintentional how could I push you away.

XIII.

It was a Sunday morning I lack sleep and drunk as fuck. I lost my 3-year-old crappy iPhone the night before due to drinking. She was one of the few people to know first, But I told her even more. I told her that I realized it now, the way I took you for granted, how I prioritized my temper rather than her well-being. I told her I lost an angel and the most beautiful girl in Antipolo. I heard her crying on the other end of the line but I didn’t mention it to her because she’s just one emotional and kind human being that I unintentionally took her granted.

We talked for almost an hour. I told her the things I mentioned above, I asked her if what if we didn’t broke up and she gave me one last final chance and I’ve been good? I’ve said some inappropriate stuff too, but what if—just what if we didn’t break up and things became better.

XIV.

I fucked up again. This time a lot.

It was very late and I was still outside, doing some intoxicating things with a stranger who is going through the same pain as I am. I was sad because I didn’t get to meet my ex after almost weeks of talking online. I wanna apologize to her with all the additional things that I’ve said in the process of me trying to fix it.

It’s not an excuse but I let the alcohol control the words that are coming right out of my mouth. As I wonder the streets of cubao just thinking about her. I became the selfish person she says that I am. I begged her to come back to me to let me fix it, or else I’ll “end myself”. After going back to my normal state I immediately realized how selfish I was how she was right all the time. How could I do this her, she already experienced enough pain and I even hurt her more. There is no excuse to what I did, once again I unintentionally scarred the most beautiful angel I know.

The morning after was the worst. Once again, just when I was making amends to my sins to her I further pushed her away.

She told me she was moved by the things I've said on our call after the night I lost my phone. She told me she saw or heard rather the man she fell in love with by realizing my mistakes. She saw the light in me again.

But because of being too pushy and being stupid she drifted away from me even further.

I am just so sorry.

K.J.D.P.

I don’t know if you will read this or not. But if you are, I understand if you don’t wanna see me anymore or at least for a while. I messed things up again, I took you for granted again, I became insensitive. I wasn’t aware you have your own problems too. I just wanted you to know I am so sorry for everything.

I know you are furious and angry to me as of the moment, I don’t know when. But someday, I hope you find it in your heart to forgive me and start over again. I hope the light you saw on me when I called you after my other phone was lost will go shine in your eyes again one day.

I didn’t mean to throw everything away, I promise starting today I’ll be a better individual. I just hope you can witness my transition.

*Photo not mine*

Months or years from now, I am still hoping we’ll have another shot. You did promise to give what we had another shot if the timing is right in the future.

In the mean time love yourself and focus on your career, that’s what you keep on telling me after everything.

0 notes