#this user suffers from alcoholism

[chuthulhu-reads]

[ID: Five panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Milly and Meryl looking up at something, startled. The second shows Wolfwood hovering around a corner, peering out from behind it. The third shows a closer up image of Wolfwood peering around the corner, a serious look on his face as he says, "Booze? Him? First thing in the mornin'? Ya gotta be kiddin'..." The fourth panel shows Vash crouching on the ground, a really awkward face smile on his face as he looks down on his coat, which has been splashed with whisky from a broken bottle. He's sort of laughing, the speech bubbles saying "Ha... heh heh..." but he doesn't really look happy. The fifth panel is a close-up of Vash's face as he slurps some of the spilled whisky off of his glove. Despite being close up, his face is so heavily shaded that it's almost impossible to make anything out. His left eye is sort of visible, closed and curved as if he might be smiling, but that's really not the vibe. End ID.]

I know I yell a lot about Nightow ruining my health and happiness but Colourless Expression really is such an INTENSELY impactful character chapter about SUFFERING. These people drink a lot for fun (can't blame 'em, given where they live) but in the aftermath of remembering about July Vash is day drinking to cope--and his friends don't even know he's been drinking until now. FUCKING OUCH

#Trigun #alcoholism #btw I work in a rehab-adjacent service #and drinking alone isn't exactly a flag that you should seek help for alcoholism #but if you're drinking alone more often than you drink socially #or find yourself hiding your drinking from people who care about you #or even actively avoiding the company of others (including those you'd usually drink socially with) #in favour of drinking alone #plz reach out for help #the people who actually care about you don't want to be suffering alone #addiction does have genetic and chemical components but most of what our service provides is addressing the psychological addiction #finding the untreated mental health problem or physical pain or unaddressed trauma that a service user is self-medicating for #Though I don't know HOW we'd handle Vash's July trauma #I'm not one of the therapists but how do you even BEGIN with a guilt complex like that #You'd probably have to untangle his relationship with Knives first #And maybe some of Vash's own discomfort with/fear of his own nonhuman nature #I mean it hurts to see but can you blame the guy for drinking

[tianasimstreehouse]

Occult Recipebook

Double, double toil and trouble; Fire burn and caldron bubble.

INTRO

Occult gameplay is up there with one of my favourite ways to play. Food is a part of our Sims lives, and should also be for occults so that they can cook up their preferred foods.

This Occult Recipebook is a collection of custom recipes (food and drink) for Occult Sims in the Sims 4.

I have started off this occult culinary journey with: ✨SPELLCASTERS✨

I have plans to later create foods for each occult life state, so I will keep adding to the recipe book.

“Spellcasters” as a life state can be played in so many different ways: they can range from gnarly evil witches who practice black magic and eat bird entrails, to happy little fairies who live in cottages surrounded by woods and flowers! I have tried to include a little bit of everything in the recipes I have created. These foods are a mix of fairy, fantasy, green garden witch, apothecary, or black-magic sorcerer etc. 

They effect Spellcasters and/or human Sims in many weird and wonderful ways.

E.g. Nettle Tea which helps teenagers suffering with acne, Milk Thistle Biscuits which leave the consumer with prickly thistles in their tongue, and Eye of Newt Soup which most Sims will find disgusting but which Spellcasters will happily slurp up.

RECIPES

39 new recipes for your Spellcasters!

~ Realm of Magic is required for these recipes ~

**there's a fair amount of pack-integration, and be sure to read the pack recommendations on the Patreon post for each recipe** to make sure nothing is missing or glitching.

Meals Dandelion Salad - increases SCs gardening skill, fills PlantSims' hunger Nettle Soup Soft-Boiled Golden Eggs - makes Sims glow and glitter Pumpkin Pasties Pomegranate Halves Eye of Newt Soup - makes other Sims feel sick Valerian Root Pie - other Sims won't like this dish Elderberry Jam Toast Toadstool Soup - inspires SCs, normal Sims won't like this dish Salamander Stew - other Sims won't like this dish Spiced Honey Bread - SCs will gain all skills faster Raised Newt Pie - makes other Sims feel sick Dragon Livers - Werewolves will love these and normal Sims won't Raised Phoenix Pie - Sims will randomly breathe fire for a while and feel confident

Desserts Milk Thistle Biscuits - chance to get uncomfortable thistles in tongue Huckleberry Jam Cream Puffs - makes SCs playful Fairy Bread Soul Cakes Huckleberry Pie Juniper Berry Jam Biscuits Honeycomb Cakes - SCs will gain all skills faster Valerian Custard Tart Toadstool Cookies Cursed Cookies - wouldn't recommend eating these... serve them to enemies! Eating one may leave the SC eater cursed. Good Sims will sense the evil inside and get sad Canning *Requires Cottage Living Canning Skill Gooseberry Jam Elderberry Jam Rosehip Jelly Drinks *Bar/alcoholic drinks require Mixology skill, and a Bar. Acorn Coffee (*coffee machine) Pumpkin Juice Willow Bark Tea - A home remedy to cure most illnesses, food poisoning etc Sage Tea - soothes stress and anger, SCs are focused and improve logic skills faster Nettle Tea - helps teens suffering from acne Lavender Tea - makes Sims flirty Mugwort Tea - reduces fear or panic Butterbeer - gives SCs confidence Mandrake Ale Nettle Wine Dandelion Wine Elderberry Wine

INFO & DOWNLOAD (early access): https://www.patreon.com/posts/79514896?pr=true Milk & Cookies: Now! Sugar Cookies: May 24th Public: May 31st

Pro tip for Windows PC users: Please make sure to delete the MACOSX folders/files that can appear after you extract the mod's files, otherwise the game may throw an error and not load at all.

TRANSLATIONS Polish - ❤️ Daisy1728, find their translation over here French - ❤️ Heidi / LuniverSims, find their translation here

#ts4 custom foods #ts4 occult #ts4ROM #ts4 realm of magic #the sims 4 #ts4 custom recipes #ts4cc #ts4mods #tianasimscookbook #recipe grimoire #ts4 occult cookbook #ts4 occult foods #occult recipes #ts4fantasy #ts4 cottagecore #goblincore #ts4 gameplay mods #gameplay mod #ts4modding #ts4 cc #ts4 witches #RoM

[anqelically]

ranpo + dialogue prompt 5 pretty please? i want to suffer and have my heart crushed by you pls <3

losing game | ranpo edogawa x gn!reader

word count: 1.2k

content: no manga spoilers, angst

navi | bsd masterlist | event (closed)

you knew people always yearn for something that isn’t good for them. you’ve witnessed it before your very eyes. over and over, you watched as they chased after the momentarily satisfying moments, even if the effects would hurt. you weren’t immune to taking such actions, though you wished you were.

your feelings burdened your shoulders, so heavily that you only wished for them to wash away. to love someone is a double-edged sword, and it pierced your heart painfully so.

the armed detective agency was an organization of ability users that dealt with, for the most part, other ability users. an unsolved mystery that was keeping the nation on its toes is what led you to be partnered up with ranpo. despite his hesitance to work with you, you managed to prove yourself useful.

when ranpo wasn’t busy with other work with agency, you spent almost all your time together. you’d give him reports and evidence that was newly found, and he’d start to put the pieces of the whole puzzle together.

there were also days when the two of you would go to cafes or bakeries, the large case forgotten in your minds. you think it was those times that caused you to fall for ranpo.

he would act childish and take heavy pride in his “ability”, yet that never stopped your heart from skipping a beat in his presence. his small acts of kindness, such as protecting you from criminals during interrogations or giving you a snack when you were overworking, had always made you sure of the truth.

you love him, and it’s a shame. 

the case was eventually solved, therefore ending the working relationship that you and ranpo had formed. the final day would be during a party that celebrated the fact that the infamous case had been solved.

you stood on one of the many balconies of the building while the breeze embraced you in its cool touch. you managed to slip outside without anyone at the celebration stopping you. it was difficult, considering the number of people inside.

you were by yourself outside for a while before another presence joined you. donned in a charming suit, ranpo approached your lone figure. he held a cup of dark brown liquid that you assumed to be soda. ranpo didn’t like to drink liquor.

“what are you doing out here?” you asked.

ranpo took a sip of his soda, “i saw you walk out earlier.”

“just when i thought i could go unnoticed,” you chuckled. “nothing slips past your eyes, huh?”

silence engulfed the two of you like an itchy blanket. you tapped your foot mindlessly as the alcohol you drank flooded your body. ranpo said nothing as you drank, staring at the star-littered sky. on the other hand, your body was getting hot despite the cool weather.

you decided to speak up, “hey, ranpo?”

“yeah?” he hummed.

“after this… do you think we’ll ever get to work together again?”

you didn’t dare look at ranpo after you asked that. you could feel his gaze wander to your figure, but your eyes remained on the scenery beneath the balcony. the large garden kept your eyes fancied as you waited for a response.

“the chances are low.” your heart sunk at the harsh truth that escaped ranpo’s lips. “a case like this to work on comes very rarely. not only that, but your base of operations isn’t even in yokohama. your normally stationed hours away, so working together was unforeseen in the first place. the odds that we’d land a large-scale case like this again obviously seems almost impossible.”

every word ranpo spoke— you already knew it. you were aware that you’d probably never see him again unless the two of you take the time out of your schedules to.

once you leave yokohama and get back to your normal work, you’re sure you’ll be busy like you always were. ranpo would probably be in the same state, considering that his incredible deduction skills were needed all over the country.

your head began to pound, so you took in a deep breath and exhaled through your mouth. your fingers curled around the balcony’s railing as you gathered all the courage you had so you could face him properly.

“i have something to confess,” you faced ranpo bravely, “and i know you probably will, but i want you to be completely honest with me. please, no tricky words or phrases, or telling me code i have to decipher. i… i want to hear exactly what you have to say.”

ranpo merely hummed at your words, urging you to continue. you swallowed the saliva building in your throat before you stared him in the eyes. tension suspended in the air as ranpo waited for you to speak. but as your eyes remained on his, you couldn’t speak your truth.

your lips opened and shut as you tried to spill the truth, but all the courage you had built up dissipated. you were going to lower your head in shame until ranpo made the first move. he stepped towards you and lifted his arm. in a second, your eyes were covered by his hand.

“if you can’t look at me, then don’t.”

your heart swelled at his gesture. ranpo’s free hand held your shoulder, his body close to yours. it was odd, really. the one that caused you to be nervous was also the reason you were able to calm down.

“ranpo, i… i love you.”

a weight had been lifted off of your shoulders when you confessed to him. though he didn’t respond yet, you knew the relief was short-lived. you were afraid of what was going to come next.

“y/n… i can’t return those feelings.” and there it was. “you’re a good colleague, a good friend, but that’s all you are to me.”

“yeah,” you took the hand that covered your eyes and slowly dropped it to your sides, “i guessed so. i don’t think you would fall for someone like me in such time.”

defeat was etched into your features. you expected it, of course you did, but hearing the words hurt deeper than you thought. you turned your head away from him. you swallowed back any incoming tears you felt coming your way.

“ah, well i hope you at least know that spending time with you made me happy.”

you sent him another glance before you attempted to rush away. you were going to go back inside to the party of people if it weren’t for ranpo’s hand catching your arm.

“you have something else to say.”

“no i don’t,” you denied.

his grip loosened, “you do.”

“i…” your lips parted as you couldn’t help but admit, “ it’s just… it’s twisted in a way. i never stood a chance the moment i realized i fell for you. i know that now, i do. your confident smile, your boisterous laugh— i love it. i love you, ranpo, and that’s why this is a losing game. you can’t return the love i have for you, and i can’t ask you to.”

ranpo watched as your eyes began to glisten beneath the moonlight. and when those tears finally began to spill, you were quick to wipe them away. it was stupid, you thought. you didn’t want to cry in front of him, yet your tears kept coming.

as you cried, ranpo gently pushed your head to his chest. you gripped the ends of his suit jacket as you quietly sobbed, pushing your head further into his clothing.

people always yearn for something that isn’t good for them. and for you, it was a love that could never be returned in full.

note: COLEE!! thank you sm for the request <33 i hope this had crushed your heart in some sorta way :o (i actually think this angst isn’t really that heavy but yeah..) and hopefully ppl were tagged in this, on my end my tags are being weird

reblogs are appreciated + join my taglist !

@seisitive @enomane @er0ses @spenzitz @wineaddict2904 @aeshiiteiru @chuuyrr @ashthemadwriter @sanjis-fav-w1fe @bejeweledgirl @ma3mae @piichuu @dreamlessimp @4nthonyyliving

#୨୧ [ writing ] #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x reader #ranpo x reader #ranpo edogawa x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd angst #bsd imagines #bungou stray dogs angst

[scoobydoodean]

so i’ve always been annoyed by the belief that “sam and dean are toxically co-dependent, especially dean!” like it just baffles me once i remember all the times they’ve been apart without one of them being dead (and actually including post swan song to an extent), but i’ve never been able to properly articulate why i think dean at least isn’t really co-dependent on sam. like there’s a difference between being (co)dependent on somebody and dean’s parentification right? thanks!

I'll preface this by saying I am not a medical professional nor have I studied academic literature on codependency in great detail. That said, "codependency" is usually just a buzzword used colloquially to describe people who are obsessed with each other anyway. I address the colloquial use and how Sam is much more unhinged here. I'm guessing the colloquial use is really more what you mean, but if you're looking for something different or a little more specific than that, I can probably write or point you to some other things I've written if you give me something more specific to go on.

That said, there is something about the way fandom talks about "codependency" between Sam and Dean that bothers me, and I think by reading around about codependency today after I got this ask, and finding out that this term is controversial among mental health professionals as well... I finally figured out why.

I think to a lot of people, "codependent" has become synonymous with words like "needy" and "suffocating". However, the WebMD type articles I started with, suggest that the partner of the codependent party is the one whose needs seem to constantly overshadow and outweigh the needs of the codependent partner in the relationship. While the codependent partner can exhibit negative behaviors, the primary problem of the codependent party is that in being a caretaker, they can lose all sense of their identity and boundaries, and don't know who they are outside of being a caretaker for others. However, this is a more modern take on the term. Because these articles I started with mentioned academic controversy, I then found a few academic papers to skim, and this proved to be even more helpful in understanding why I... don't like this term very much.

First, the historical origins of it are... off-putting. The term "codependency" first emerged in academic literature in the 1940s to describe wives with alcoholic husbands who behave as "enablers" [1, 2]. I probably don't have to point out how different things were for women back then, and how rampantly sexist that context makes this first wave of literature sound, but it's discussed extensively in this article. Second, there is more stigma associated with the term partly because Alcoholics Anonymous (shocking /s) latched onto it starting in the 60s and 70s:

The influence of the AA culture in shaping the concept of codependency as an illness offered the idea that people who were close to the substance user were themselves suffering from an illness (O’Briean and Gaborit 1992). These people were viewed as enablers and coalcoholics (Cotton 1979). [ 1 ]

I... think I am probably not the only one who finds that utterly rancid to read (some academics writing on the subject certainly seem to):

According to Gus Napier, a noted family therapist, it is "ridiculous" to label codependency as a disease, because it is a culturally conditioned response of an overfunctioning person in relationship with an underfunctioning person (Meacham, 1990-1991). [2]

Some researchers who have pushed the term "codependency" as a diagnosis have actually suggested that literally anyone who is living with someone with an addiction should be called co-dependent by definition, regardless of any behavior they may exhibit, which tells you a lot about the lack of consensus and how meaningless the term can be [2]. The term (especially within the disease model where codependency itself is a from of addiction) has been criticized by many researchers for the misogyny through which the term originated, for unproductive negative labeling and pathologizing of people (especially women) dealing with incredibly difficult situations with their loved ones, for victim-blaming people (especially women stuck in abusive relationships) for the actions of their partners, for tangentially—negative stereotyping about people with serious addictions, and for conflating addiction with interpersonal problems, and in the extreme case—for suggesting separation from ones family is the solution to addiction and supporting someone with an addiction somehow always enables them [1, 2].

Since the original stream of literature related to addiction, codependency has rebranded and expanded into literature on family experiences with abuse and mental and physical illness. Which is where we get articles like this one I already linked. The codependent party is still a caretaker in these settings, caring for the needs of a loved one who is ill. Still, "codependency" is not an official medical diagnosis (i.e. not in the DSM-5). It's a term that has been used in academic literature by mental health professionals, when trying to describe a range of behaviors within dysfunctional families. These researchers do not agree on the term's meaning or on whether it even is or should be a diagnosis. Many are interested in it only from an interpersonal or personality perspective, which is also where we should stick.

Taking all of this into account though, I think the very first thing we have to ask ourselves is what exactly we get out of using the term "co-dependency" to describe Sam and/or Dean when the term doesn't even really have an agreed-upon meaning. Is the intention to write interesting character analysis, or is the intention to glorify or criticize using a term that has historically stigmatized understandable human reactions to troubled family situations? I think the goal has perhaps too often been the latter.

That said, I've already been referencing it, but I think this article does a good job of summarizing much of the literature, and then actually focusing on people who do choose, of their own accord, to identify with the term "codependent" because it is helpful for them in understanding their own lived experience and their patterns within relationships. I don't think there's anything wrong with wanting to explore this as it relates to Sam and Dean with the right motivations. If you read the accounts of the respondents who choose to identify with the term, you'll see shades of Sam and Dean I think (I have written something pretty close to the chameleon-self about season 1 Dean, and I can apply that one to Sam too through his attempts to fit in at Stanford). When it comes to my experience with these characters however, I just don't find that I personally see any value in analyzing Sam and Dean through the word "codependent" given it's lack of agreed-upon meaning professionally and colloquially.

It seems to me that the term itself leads to more confusing conversations instead of less confusing ones because of the lack of clear definition, and the potential for negative stereotyping instead of actual edifying analysis is extremely off-putting to me. It just doesn't do anything for me personally. The issues to which it relates I think are interesting (especially parentification which is a term I do find useful), and I think criticisms leveled against the term are also useful to read in understanding ones own struggles with how fandom tends to frame Dean as a caretaker who they believe is actually somehow responsible for everyone else's decisions. But I think that perhaps I prefer words and concepts that are better defined than the muddiness of the term "codependent".

Lastly: Even if I'm not a particular fan of the term, the fact is that the actual show uses the term twice—in season 5 (shoutout to butch--dean's transcript search engine). Once in 5.11 "Sam, Interrupted" (to Dean):

DR. FULLER Well, to be frank, uh, the relationship that you have with your brother seems dangerously codependent. I think a little time apart will do you both good.

First, this dude doesn't really know what's going on and thinks Sam and Dean are having delusions. However, in season 5, Sam's experience with demon blood is repeatedly paralleled with drug or alcohol addiction, and Sam is someone for whom Dean has been made to feel responsible for most of his life. This episode addresses Dean's overly burdensome responsibilities in other ways and it's also come up in the past in 1.12, 2.09, 2.10, and 4.05. I prefer to discuss this theme with much more specific terms. In this case, I would say Dean has an "overactive sense of responsibility to others", originating first with his childhood experiences with parentification. Sam also has a tendency to try and make Dean shoulder responsibility for his decisions when they backfire, and does so multiple times related to the demon blood (4.04, 4.21, 5.05). Cas and Zachariah also both blame Dean for Sam breaking the last seal because he didn't stop him in time (5.01, 5.02) and Bobby criticizes how Dean responds to Sam's addiction (4.22).

And then again in 5.18 "Point of No Return", specifically when Zachariah (my favorite manipulative angel) tries to get Adam to be on his side by basically calling Sam and Dean creepy incestuous weirdos:

ZACHARIAH So you know you can’t trust them, right? You know Sam and Dean Winchester are psychotically, irrationally, erotically codependent on each other, right?

This one honestly to me is just Zachariah doing Zachariah things. I'll reach these episodes on my rewatch fairly soon though, so we'll see if I end up talking about it more then.

Bacon, I., McKay, E., Reynolds, F. et al. The Lived Experience of Codependency: an Interpretative Phenomenological Analysis. Int J Ment Health Addiction 18, 754–771 (2020). https://doi.org/10.1007/s11469-018-9983-8

Anderson, S. C. (1994). A Critical Analysis of the Concept of Codependency. Social Work, 39(6), 677–685. http://www.jstor.org/stable/23717128

#mail #5.11 #5.18 #parentification #family chains

[writers-potion]

i was wondering if you could give some points and tips on writing about a character who is suffering from DRUG ABUSE

Writing A Drug Addict Character

Know Your Drugs

Was the drug invented? A scene using insulin set in 1820 is problematic since this treatment wasn’t discovered until the 1900s. Fentanyl shouldn’t be used in a 1930s scene since it wasn’t available for use until the 1960s—opium or morphine would be more accurate choices.

Was the method invented? Since insulin must be given as a shot, that scene is even less authentic as the hypodermic needle wasn’t invented until the mid-1800s. Older historical fiction could involve the use of poultices and mustard packs, while skin drug patches (transdermal patches) are only appropriate in more modern scenes.

The most common drugs abused by gangs are: Marijuana, Methamphetamine, Heroin, Cocaine

Or, it can be prescription drugs

Although many medications can be abused, the following three classes are most commonly abused:

Opioids—usually prescribed to treat pain;

Central nervous system (CNS) depressants—used to treat anxiety and sleep disorders; and

Stimulants—most often prescribed to treat attention deficit hyperactivity disorder (ADHD). (common example? caffeine)

Write In Stages

Stage 1: First Use

Some people use a substance for the first time out of curiosity, while others use substances due to peer pressure. People may also be prescribed medication, such as opioids, by their doctor. Individuals may view their first use as a one-time occurrence, but this opens the door for future use. Some people try a substance one time and never use it again. 

You character will feel:

Angry and/or desperate

Miserable

Lonely

Trying to run away from a certain problem

Persuaded into doing drug

Guilty

Stage 2: Regular Use

If a person uses a substance and enjoys how it makes them feel or believes it will improve their life, they may start to use the substance regularly. They may use drugs or drink alcohol on the weekends while at parties or hanging out with friends. Occasional use may become a regular occurrence. It might become a part of a person’s routine.

Your character:

Will start getting in careless activities while doing drugs

Will probably be violent

Won’t think he has any issue whatsoever and shrug it off

Start associating themselves with harder drug users

Have a false sense of security that they’re able to quit whenever they want.

Stage 3: Risky Use

The next stage after regular use is risky use. A person will continue to use a substance despite the physical, mental, legal or social consequences. Their use likely started as a way to escape or have fun with peers but has now taken priority over other aspects of their life.

Your Character will feel:

uncomfortable around family members/friends who start to notice

Exhibit more reckless behavior

Driving under influence, stealing money to finance substance use, etc.

Underperforming at work or school

Experience tension in personal relationships

Stage 4: Dependence

The next stage is a physical, mental and emotional reliance on the substance. The individual is no longer using the substance for medical or recreational purposes. When a person doesn’t use the substance, their body will exhibit withdrawal symptoms, such as tremors, headaches, nausea, anxiety and muscle cramps.

Your Chracter Will:

Develop a sort of rountine/typical place where they abuse

Believe that the substance is essential for survival

Use substance even when it's unnecessary

Stage 5: Substance Use Disorder

While some people use dependency and substance use disorder interchangeably, they’re very different. Once a person develops a substance use disorder, substance misuse becomes a compulsion rather than a conscious choice. They’ll also experience severe physical and mental side effects, depending on the substance they’re using.

Your Character:

Has noe developed a chronic disease with the risk of relapse

Is now incapable of quitting on their own

Feel like life is impossible to deal with without the substance.

Lose their job, fail out of school, become isolated from friends and family or give up their passions or hobbies.

Research the Trends

Medical knowledge changes over time and with it the drugs prescribed. This then impacts the type of prescription drugs available on the streets.

late 1800s: chloral hydrate used for anxiety and insomnia > bromides > 1920s: barbiturates, barbital > benzodiazepines ("benzos") > early 2000s: opiod drugs > opiod drug bans led to growth of black markets: ilicit fentanyl > and so on...

Different countries/locations will have varying trends of drug abuse (depending on laws, availability, costs, etc.)

Research the Slag

look for "[drug name] trip report" on YouTube, etc. to get first-hand accounts of how drug addicts behave.

The main focus should always be to use the words your characters would use in ways that suit the world you have created.

The slang for certain drugs is a difficult vocabulary to maintain as it is ever-changing and varies based on country, region, town, even by streets. Some writers use what they know or have heard locally, others invent their own.

Resources

FDA (Food and Drug Administration) and DEA online databases and drug resources

Social networking groups focusing on related specialty writing topics, such as trauma or emergency medicine

Newspaper articles and medical journals are great places to find real cases.

The US national poison center 

Helpful Vocab:

Addled - sense of confusion + complete lack of mental awareness

Crazed - emotional anguish experienced by the addict

Desperate

Despondent

Erratic

Fidgety

Hopeless

Impressionable

Struggling

#writing #writers and poets #creative writers #helping writers #creative writing #let's write #poets and writers #writers on tumblr #writeblr #resources for writers #writing inspiration #writing advice #writing prompt #writing tips #on writing #writer #writing community #writerscommunity #writer on tumblr #writer things #writer problems #writer community #writer stuff #writblr #writers of tumblr #writers community #writers block #writers life #writing questions #writing quotes

[metalfairygirl]

Family is not where you suffer (HEARTSTEEL Members & Female!Suffering!Teenager!Reader). Part 1.

Summary: You're a sixteen-year-old teenager who doesn't have a great life. Once your family was happy, but until the moment when your father was in a terrible accident and died, burned alive in the car. At that time you were only six years old, and that's when your mother became obsessed with alcohol. From that moment on, your life became a living hell. Ten years later, you got tired of suffering and decided to take a desperate step. But is it destined to happen?

Warnings: Mention of death, difficult childhood, alcoholic parents, domestic violence, rape, mention of self-harm, suicidal thoughts, suicide attempt, long post.

A/N: Hello everyone! I've already seen that a lot of users have already become obsessed with the new virtual group, as well as me. And it was at two o'clock in the morning that I had the idea to write this nonsense. I will say right away that your meeting with the band members will be different, but then everything will go according to one storyline (but this will be in the second part). There may be inaccuracies in the work, since English is not my native language. There are many violent topics here, so I ask the faint-hearted not to read. I warned you! I also want to express my gratitude to those who inspired me to write this fan fiction. You guys are great! I adore you!: @ioniansunsets; @heartsteel-heartbeats; @timetoeatthebread-blog; @duckchu; @saey707. Have fun reading!

Background.

In a small apartment, music was playing at full volume, accompanied by the drunken singing of two voices. One is female, the other is male. All this was happening in a small kitchen that now looked like some kind of pigsty. Cigarette butts and empty alcohol bottles were scattered everywhere, and from this there was a rather nasty smell in the air, from which anyone would vomit. The table itself was stained with vomit mixed with tobacco ash. Ugh, it's disgusting. Yes, the couple had a great day.

At that moment, the front door of the apartment creaked open, letting in a third inhabitant. As soon as you entered, the sharp smell of alcohol, tobacco and vomit hit you in the nose, but you did not react to it. You've been used to it for a long time. So this is far from new to you. After examining the corridor, you found only clothes and shoes scattered on the floor. You growled softly but viciously. You were cleaning up all night last night, and they messed it up again. Fucking drunks... There was no other way you could have named your parents.

More precisely, you had one parent, it was your mother. And her new husband was your stepfather. You didn't have a father, because he died in a terrible accident when you were little, and your mother was normal and happy. Your dad was coming home from work then. You planned to have a real celebration in honor of his promotion. Your mom cooked a wonderful dinner, and you helped her. Everything is like in happy families. But the holiday was not destined to happen. At one point, the news began to be broadcast on TV. It said about a terrible accident where a man was burned alive. And that man turned out to be your father. When your mom listened to this, she froze in place with a plate and a cloth in her hands. Her eyes were dilated and her heart was pounding wildly. And you yourself have fallen into a strong state of shock. Everything around you seems to have disappeared. It's like an abyss surrounded you, filled with misunderstanding and fear. From this semblance of a trance, you were pulled out by the sound of a breaking plate that fell to the floor. Looking first at the already broken plate, and then at your mom, you noticed how she was shaking. It's like she was launched naked into Antarctica. And then loud sobs followed. She covered her face with the rag she was holding in her hand and began to sob loudly, not restraining her emotions. It turns out that the culprit of the whole celebration was a drunk driver who drove into the oncoming lane and collided with your father's car. That bastard only got off with a severed arm, and your dad died. He died because of some fucking drunk pig. You still wish this bitch was burning in hell right now, or that your father would come to them in a dream and strangle this bitch. And that's when your life changed forever.

At first, your mother grieved very much and shed tears. It is understandable that the loss of her husband greatly harmed her soul. You also cried with her, not believing that you would never see your dad again. After that, she started drinking to numb her pain. Many will think that yes, at first it is difficult to come to terms with the loss of a loved one, and therefore many drink alcohol to forget about the soul-devouring grief for a while, but somehow not so. Yes, your mother soon forgot about your father and let him go. But her grief turned into something terrible. She grabbed one bottle, then another, absorbing their contents. With each bottle of alcohol, her kindness and love for everything in the world faded away. You tried to somehow encourage her and support her, so that these qualities would not disappear in her. She said that everything would be fine and it was temporary. You were a little girl then and believed her, but you didn't understand the seriousness of the situation. And then your sweet and loving mom left. In her place came another. Angry, cruel and always drunk. Alcohol became her main obsession.

And then your life turned into a nightmare. Every day there are screams, scandals, late-night drinking and even beatings. Your mother has completely new methods of your upbringing. Every day she left more and more bruises and scratches on your body, which you had to hide so that the school would not find out what was happening at your house. During elementary school, you couldn't work, so you went to the neighbors to feed you, because of alcoholism, your mother stopped going to work, which is why she was fired. But she did not seek it either. You may ask, why didn't the neighbors call the guardianship authorities and report on the situation in your family? And everything is very simple. In your city, the guardianship system worked terribly. And the main thing is that the representatives of the authorities only ruffled the nerves of well-off families, and they just put a huge bolt on families like yours. And your neighbors knew about it perfectly well. Yes, they came to you, but they just looked at your apartment and left. And at that moment, your mother was sober and played a caring and responsible woman. The house was clean, because your mother didn't arrange the mess. And they didn't even find a bottle! In general, after watching the whole circus, they left and never came back. So you continued to live with your crazy mother.

One day you realized that you would have to rely only on yourself. You were completely alone in this gray and cruel world. There was almost no one to help you, but to some extent you were afraid to call for help. Your mother won't help you anymore. Even when you somehow managed to go to school, then after that your mother gave up on it. She completely gave up on your development and education. Her main goal was to pour as much alcohol into herself as possible and fall into unconsciousness. But you still loved her with your boundless childish love. You didn't care then whether she drank or not, you continued to love her and take care of her. But she didn't even respond to your care. And it was at that moment that you realized that you had no one else to expect help from. Your main support was yourself. You began to live for yourself and your future. It doesn't matter what obstacles stand in your way, but you had to be strong and confident to overcome them. And you should always be determined. So you had to grow up early...

At first everything was more or less normal. In elementary school, you had excellent grades, teachers did not scold you for mistakes and helped you in every way. It seemed to you that this would continue, that everything would be great for you at school, and that you would not be offended. Naive girl... That was until the moment when you went to high school and you reached adolescence. That's when you fully felt what it was like to be an outcast. They started laughing at you and scheming in every possible way. Who will trip you up, who will spill water on you, and who will even start watering you with obscene language. You were constantly bullied and mocked at you. They were constantly pointing fingers at you and saying how poor and miserable you were, and also that you were the daughter of an alcoholic. At first, of course, you were offended, but then you started ignoring them, considering them complete idiots who were spoiled by their richer parents. They continued to mock you in every possible way, but you just didn't hear them. As if they didn't exist. But soon they got tired of their "toy", so to speak, no longer reacting to them. And they came to more terrible methods. Your own classmates started beating you regularly. They locked you in the toilet, and then they would crowd on you with their fists, hitting you wherever they wanted and could. And others stood aside and filmed everything that was happening on the camera of their phones, smiling and laughing, satisfying their sadistic inclinations. And you were lying on the cold floor and screaming in pain, covering yourself with your hands so that they could not hit you in the most vulnerable places. You didn't understand why they hated you so much. You were just like them. The same age, and received the same knowledge as they did. But still, you were far from like them. Unlike them, you were chasing knowledge in order to get the desired profession in the future. You were interested in everything that could somehow attract you. You tried to help everyone, no matter what kind of person it is. You weren't rich, but your wealth was kindness and love. You were different. And they hated you for it. People can't stand those who don't look like them. And for this they should be humiliated. That's what your classmates thought. You went to school every day, like to hard labor, knowing how your peers treat you there. But you endured it all. And saved up in your soul.

Soon your mother brought to your house a man who was her old drinking companion. He was tall, several times taller than you. His hands were like two huge logs that could crush anyone to smithereens. He was dressed very untidily. Everywhere you looked, you could see greasy stains on almost every part of his clothes. And apparently he didn't wash it, because the smell was very unpleasant, so much so that you wanted to vomit. But his face was not so good either. Your mother told you that he was thirty-six years old, but he looked like he was fifty-five. There were very noticeable wrinkles on the forehead, and there were a lot of swelling on the rest of the face. His hair was disheveled and greasy, like the homeless people you sometimes met on the streets of the city. And this man is thirty-six years old? You didn't even think that alcohol changes people so much. But that wasn't the most important thing. The most terrible thing was that your mother said that he would be your stepfather. That's when you got really angry. You already have enough of your mom's drunkenness, and then she dragged some dirty lout home?! Is this drunken pig going to be your stepfather?! Without saying a word then, you went to your room, where you took out of the closet a leather jacket that your father always wore. You immediately felt such a native smell of his favorite cologne, which was soaked in his jacket. Sitting on the bed, you put it on yourself and... cried. Tears rolled down your cheeks, falling to the floor with a characteristic quiet thud.

"Dad... Daddy, I feel so bad... I don't want this guy to be my new dad... I want you to come back, Dad... I'm lonely without you... Daddy..." You whispered, wrapping your arms around yourself and tucking your legs under you.

This jacket is the only thing you have left from your father. You always kept it in your closet and wore it in cold weather. So you felt safe, and also felt calm. Every night, instead of a blanket, you put on this leather jacket and fell asleep, imagining that it was your father hugging you. This jacket always brought you back to the days when your dad was alive and you were all happy. His image is forever imprinted in your memory. His wide smile, kind eyes and loving gaze. It's a pity that it can't be returned. And so you would like to...

After that, things got even worse. Your stepfather started beating you along with your mom for any mistake you made, even the smallest one. Every time you returned home, you were met with another slap in the face and interrogation. The man himself was even more violent and cruel than your mother. He could just come up to you and hit you with such force that the bruised place would hurt for a very long time. Several times he dragged you by the hair and beat you against the wall. It hurt like hell. You hated him more than anything in the world.

Every day has been a real torture for you. You've suffered and suffered and suffered. You wanted to disappear from this world, into which you came for no clear reason. Very often, when you saw some drunk on the street, your hands automatically clenched into fists, and one desire flared up in your soul. Torture and kill this miserable pig. But you understood that if you commit murder, you will go to jail for a very long time. And it's even worse in prison than at home and at school. Therefore, you took out all the desire to commit an inhumane act on yourself. You beat yourself, scratched your skin, sometimes you cut yourself, but not your veins. The desire to live was still there.

All that made you live was music. No, not the one that your drunk parents usually listen to, but your favorite one. For the most part, these were groups consisting of young guys. Their cheerful attitude always made you forget all the troubles and continue to live. Every time you listened to your favorite songs, a stone fell from your soul that hurt you. Music was your only salvation. It was your corner where you could calm down and find strength.

At the age of fourteen, you found a job where you were finally able to earn money, although not very big, but it's better than going hungry and in old torn clothes. You were happy with every bill you earned with your hard work, which you put aside for new clothes or a gadget. While your classmates were drinking with their parents' money, you were working to feed and clothe yourself. You've even started to forget that you have two alcoholics living at home who should raise you, but they don't do it. It would seem that what could be worse than them and their beatings? And then you experienced one of the worst humiliations in the world...

One day when you returned from work, you didn't find your mother at home. She probably went somewhere. Only your stepfather was at home. Ignoring this, you went to your room, but then you felt someone's strong hands pinning you to the wall. It was your stepfather, who looked at you with a predatory gaze. You tried to escape, but all attempts were in vain. And then something happened that finally destroyed your already damaged psyche. It was humiliating. The way his hands touched you in not the most decent places, the way he beat you and tore your clothes. The way he violated your personal space. You were screaming from the wild pain that was tearing you apart from the inside. Tears rolled down your cheeks in streams, and you didn't feel your legs and arms at all. And then you blacked out. You woke up on the hallway floor. All your clothes were torn, there were bruises and bruises on your body, and you were lying in a puddle of all this shame. Everything hurt incredibly badly, especially the lower abdomen. That day you locked yourself in a room and sobbed while your stepfather was sleeping in the hall. Fucking bastard. You hit yourself on the shoulder. You wanted to kill him. You scratched your forehead. You hated him. You hated your mother. You hated your classmates. You hated all the alcoholics in the world. Suffering. Your whole life is suffering.

Now you have entered your room and sat down at the table to do your homework, as well as prepare for exams a little. You didn't work much today because you were released early, so it was time to study. But the calm did not last long.

"Hey... bitch, where have... you... been?..." Your stepfather asked when he burst into your room.

Snorting, you slowly turned to him and stared at him with an irritated look. He was standing in the doorway, leaning against the jamb. He could barely stand on his feet. It seemed that a little more, and he would collapse on the floor and fall asleep on it. He was holding a half-empty vodka bottle in his hand. No wonder, he always drank it from the throat, without biting or drinking. His gaze was distracted, but angry. A stream of saliva ran down his chin. Ugh, it's a disgusting sight.

"Father, I just got home from work and I'm going to do my homework. Can you please leave me alone? Exams won't pass themselves."

You said, looking at him disdainfully with a contemptuous glance. Growling, the man slammed the door and went to his room. Exhaling, you turned to your desk and started studying. You had to put on headphones so as not to hear the drunken screams.

The very first thing you put on the audition is a new song by a completely new band "HEARTSTEEL." You stumbled upon them completely by accident. You were just flipping through a social media feed and at one point you came across a post that a new band would release their first song. That interested you. And then you got sucked into the whole topic. You started to constantly follow the updates and news. You found out about all the participants. And honestly, you admired them. Ezreal is a passionate lover of discovering something new, Sett is brave and courageous, ready to protect anyone, K'Sante is supportive and strong, Yone is calm and reasonable, Aphelios is quiet and very talented, and Kayn is a guy who will go against any rules in order to achieve his goal. Each of them gave you motivation to get up and go to your goal. They gave you hope that everything would be fine.

Right now, the main thing for you was to finish school, go to university and leave your parents. And it was these guys who gave you the motivation for this.

After completing your homework and exam preparation, you headed to the kitchen to cook dinner for yourself and your parents. They can't just eat alcohol. When you entered the kitchen, you again found them at the table, drinking another bottle. Rolling your eyes, you started cooking.

"Mom, Dad, will you eat?" You asked while slicing bread.

They didn't pay attention to you right away. They stared at one point with their mouths slightly open, hunched over the table. The first sign of movement was given by your mother. She slowly turned her head towards you and looked at you with her misty gaze. After which she muttered softly.

"Yes-s-s..."

Shrugging your shoulders, you continued cooking. While you were cutting up the groceries, it seemed strange to you that your mom and stepfather were sitting almost motionless and silent, staring at nothing. In this state, you almost never saw them, because they usually sat at the table and sang songs, drinking alcohol along the way. You were standing and looking at them, and something alarm suddenly appeared in you. It seemed to you that something bad would happen in a few moments, and that you urgently needed to get up. And they sat and hardly moved. It's like time has stopped, by God. But after inhaling and exhaling, you continued cooking, no longer paying attention to them. But the silence was still interrupted by your mother.

"Y-Y/N, my d-daughter... Dad and... I want t-to... talk to... you..." She barely stammered with her slurred tongue.

When you heard the word "Dad", you slightly squeezed the edge of the countertop with your hands. The muscles tensed at the same moment.

«He's not my father and he never will be...»

It was this thought that first visited your head for a short period of time. You still couldn't get it into your head that this drunk was playing the role of your father. And he does it the wrong way, from the word at all. From these thoughts, you involuntarily had a small shiver down your back, which made you wince. But with grief in half, you slowly turned to your parents and, with a convulsive sigh, folded your arms on your chest. Looking away, you answered.

"I'm listening to you..."

Your mother continued.

"Daught-ter, you are... already an a-adult... and... you understand... e-everythin-ng." She babbled, pouring vodka into a glass, and then drinking it in one gulp.

"Don't delay, I need to eat and go to bed. I have to go to work tomorrow." You snorted, already knowing that it would take a long time.

The woman continued.

"We've been... thin-nking a-and dec-cided... that... we want to h-have... a... s-second ch-child. You know, to... hav-ve a brother or sist-ter, ri-ight?" She said all this while looking at you with her glass eyes.

From what you heard, your eyes involuntarily widened and your eyebrows rose. It seemed to you that you were listening to the nonsense of some mentally ill person who did not understand what situation they was in. In principle, it was, but your mother was not a crazy psycho, but dependent on alcohol. And it still didn't bring you a sense of relief. It was much worse. If she carries a child, she will simply kill them at the stage of their development, given how much alcohol is contained in her body. This thought made the blood in your veins boil with increasing rage and indignation. Didn't she realize that she was a threat to the child? Apparently not.

Straightening up and staring straight at your mother, you blurted out with all your might, putting in all your anger.

"Mom, are you crazy at all?! What child?! You drink for days on end, and your blood is completely soaked with alcohol! Don't you understand that this will simply KILL the child?! It seems to me that you are no longer friends with brains at all!"

Your stepfather intervened in the conversation.

"What did you just say, you little thing?! Did you call her a stupid psycho?! Come here, you bastard!"

You already realized what he was going to do to you, and at the same moment you took off in order to get to your room as soon as possible and lock yourself in it, but you didn't have time. His strong hand grabbed your wrist and pulled you sharply towards him, causing severe pain, from which you screamed loudly. You had the feeling that he wanted to tear it off.

"You little shite, who are you to open your fucking mouth?! Now I'll teach you when to speak!!!"

"No, ple- Aaaahhh!!!"

The first blow landed right in your face, causing you to stagger and fall to the floor. From the collision with the floor, you groaned through your teeth. But they didn't even let you catch your breath, as you were kicked in the stomach, which caused you to fall to the floor again. The next blow you received in the side, then in the lower back. The pain was unbearable. You screamed and asked to stop all this, but your stepfather didn't care. Your torment brought him wild pleasure and satisfaction. You wriggled in every way and tried to avoid blows, but everything was useless. The man was too strong. Before that, his blows were strong, but not so much as to cause you such terrible torment. This time he was truly furious and beat you with all his might, trying not to leave a living place on you. You thought a couple more punches and he'd kill you. Each blow pulled out of you a loud cry filled with pain and anguish. Burning and salty rivulets were already flowing down your face. And the worst was yet to come.

"Dad, please... Ahh!!!"

"Shut up, bitch! You have no right to open your fucking mouth without my permission! You're nobody! You are a pitiful creature with no right to life! You shouldn't have been in this world at all!"

And your mother was still sitting at the table and watching everything that was happening. There was zero emotion on her face. Absolute indifference. She didn't care that her own child was being beaten like never before. She didn't care that her daughter was suffering at the hands of that bastard. She didn't care that she was screaming in pain and suffering. And you looked at her with tear-stained eyes and begged her with a look that she would at least do something, but she was relentless. She sat and watched it with a stony face, as if she was watching some movie, and there was a scene of violence in it, which was your beating now. Did she really want you to suffer like this? What have you done to her? After all, everything you said is true. They don't take offense at the truth, do they? Isn't that right?!

Meanwhile, your stepfather grabbed your hair and started pulling hard on it, making you scream even louder. Clutching your head, you tried to somehow drown out the pain and escape, but to no avail. The man's grip was just dead. It was as if his hands had turned to stone, attached to your strands. Pain shot through your entire head, reaching all the way to your neck. It seemed to you that a little more and he would pull out your hair along with the skin and meat.

Then he also pulled you to your feet by the hair, and then threw you into the wall with all his strength. So you hit your head hard, but you didn't pass out. And only then, when the man hit your head against that damn wall a few more times, you felt warm liquid trickling down your face. Running your fingertips over your temple and looking at them, you saw blood.

Distracted from the blood and turning to your stepfather, you saw him raise his fist over his head. And then it hit you like an electric shock. You took off like a bullet and rushed to your room. You heard menacing and heavy footsteps behind you, along with a voice shouting death threats at you. That brief moment of running seemed like an eternity to you. Finally, when you reached the cherished door, you grabbed the handle and turned it. A click, then a creak. You're already inside. At the last moment, you locked the door so that this asshole wouldn't get in. And he tried. He was banging on your door, screaming and puffing. And you, huddled in the corner of the room, did not take your eyes off the door, breathing heavily, chained by the chains of fear and horror of the experience. No, you couldn't do that anymore. You need to get out of here. Anywhere, as long as it's away from them!

To the sound of banging on the door, you grabbed your backpack and started packing quickly. Clothes, pen, sheets of paper, money, headphones, phone - all this turned out to be in your backpack. And then you quickly dressed in jeans and a hoodie, because it was November outside. You should have dressed warmer. And only then did you pull out your father's leather jacket from the closet, which you put on over a hoodie. As soon as you put it on, you instantly felt calm and determined. Putting a backpack on your back, you went to the window. The first floor is too low, you can't break.

You were pulled out of your thoughts by an incredibly loud bang on the door of your room. You saw that the wooden door had already given a small crack. Time is short, you need to jump out of the window and run. Standing on the windowsill and fully opening the window, you sighed and pulled yourself together and jumped out into the street. You landed on the asphalt safely, without breaking anything when landing. Without looking back at the window of your room, you got to your feet and ran wherever your eyes looked.

You ran without taking apart the road. Silhouettes of people and buildings flashed rapidly before your eyes. Andrenaline was raging in your body, which made you rush like lightning. You didn't feel your legs that were carrying you to some unknown place. All you were thinking about right now was WHERE to run to. You didn't have any friends or relatives. You had no one to go to. You knew there was no one to help you. You are completely alone in this world. You are a lone wolf that roams the world, surviving in it and relying only on yourself. All the moments of your life flashed before your eyes. You remembered all your torments and sufferings. All the pain that has been inflicted on you endlessly. From this, the hole in your soul became bigger and bigger, devouring all the beautiful particles, like a hungry pack of yard dogs. Tears rolled down your face in an instant. Your whole life is a continuous torment. The whole world hated you. No one wanted to help you, much less comfort and support you. Nobody cared. Your dad died a long time ago, and your kind and loving mom also left you, leaving behind only her vile and nasty shadow. And since everyone didn't care about you, why are you here? Why do you have to suffer and shed endless tears? Is it really impossible to disappear from this world? Who cares about you? That's right, no one. And probably the best option would be to disappear. No one will notice anything. Although not. No. Some should notice. They should know.

Running into the first park you came across, you sat down on a bench and, unbuttoning your backpack, took out a piece of paper and a pen, after which you began to write convulsively.

"Hi. If you found my body, you probably found this note. I'm tired of living in this rotten world and suffering every day. I was constantly experiencing fear and pain that gradually enveloped my body, mind and soul. But now I'm free. And now the only thing that can bring me peace forever is that those who hurt me will see my body. Police, search party, rescuers, or whatever they call you, please fulfill my posthumous request. Show my body to my classmates, teachers, and especially parents. Let them see what their actions have led to. I want to see the reaction and, hopefully, horror and regret for what I did. Let these creatures see the suffering frozen on my face, see the dead eyes soaked with tears. Then, perhaps, I will find peace, knowing that they have seen the fruits of their filthy labors. Goodbye and please don't hurt others."

Exhaling, you folded the sheet and put it in your backpack along with the pen. And it was at this moment that a heavy downpour poured down, as if the heavens themselves were mourning your imminent departure from this cursed world that people had spoiled, but you didn't care about it. You just kept sitting on the bench and getting wet, remembering your whole short life. A life that was filled only with torments and torments. But soon it will all be over, and you will find such a long-awaited freedom from cold shackles. Today you needed to rest, and tomorrow you will do what you were already ready and eager for.

Your meeting with the members.

Aphelios.

The next morning you headed out of city. To a place where no one lived. You spent the whole night in the park, lying on a bench. You have never rejected the idea of your own demise. You were already fully attuned to this. Therefore, it's time to put your plan into action.

All the way you were accompanied by a light cold breeze that played with your hair. Dry leaves of orange and yellow hues crunched underfoot. You passed by people who were going about their business and thinking about their own, not even suspecting that the girl who passed by them would soon leave this world forever.

And finally, the city was left behind. You were greeted by large and thin, bare trees. They towered over you, and the wind stirred from the branch, and it seemed as if they were inviting you to enter their abode. Without any emotion on your face, you entered this gloomy and cold forest. The atmosphere was suitable. Tension, melancholy and apathy. As if everyone had already found out what was going to happen soon. And you moved on. It was as if you were drawn somewhere. And that something brought you to the place that was perfect for your plan.

It was a large and abandoned concrete building. It was so cold and damp. Emptiness. Yes, the perfect place. With these thoughts, you went to it, looking at its empty windows. A gray and dreary building, in which there was not a soul. Already entering inside, this darkness caught your eye. Any normal person would immediately leave this place out of harm's way, but not you. The first step has already decided everything. And then the second, third, fourth and fifth. The darkness of this building gradually sucked you in, and soon you completely disappeared into it.

Aphelios wandered among the thin and bare trees, and the fallen leaves crunched under his feet. He admired all this beauty of autumn and was glad that he was finally able to get out of this city bustle. There's no traffic noise, no chatter. Silence, calmness, and the whisper of the wind that jumped on thin branches. Breathing in the cool air, the guy with ruby-red eyes was filled with inspiration to write a new composition. And it's good that he was in such a wilderness. Here he will not be annoyed by the eternal grumbling of Kayn, nor by the comic showdowns of Sett and K'Sante. And besides, his sister advised him to take a break from this routine fuss and get out of town somewhere. Alune will not advise anything bad. Aphelios has already been convinced of this many times.

After a long but not tedious walk, Aphelios finally came across a large and gray abandoned building. Chuckling, the guy already understood where he should write a composition. But he has to be careful. You never know what kind of psycho is hiding there. Fortunately, he took a stun gun with him. Aphelios read a lot of stories about abandonments and therefore he prepared for this campaign.

Determined, he moved forward, deciding to walk around the building. He also wanted to take some photos for the cover of the song. Passing near the building, Aphelios examined each brick. With his fingertips, he touched the rough surface of the walls, passing over them in order to absorb as much of this energy and atmosphere as possible. Silence. A blissful silence that nothing and no one can break. And then a distant shuffling and someone's whispering.

The red-eyed man stopped immediately. What, he's not alone here? No, no, he just imagined it. Trying not to move, he listened. At first there was nothing, but then there was shuffling again. This was followed by footsteps and... sobs. Didn't he hear it? Was someone really crying there? He listened again. No, well, in nature, someone was crying. After listening closely, Aphelios realized that this cry was made by a girl. He wonder what she was doing here at all? Out of curiosity, the guy went to this sound. As a result, he stopped at the turn to the other side of the building. But this time there was no crying. What? How? He just heard it. Nothing is clear. But then shuffling. Sticking his head around the corner, the red-eyed man was horrified. On the fifth floor of the building there was a teenager - a girl of about sixteen. She was standing right at the very edge, her fists clenched. Tears were streaming down her reddened face. She was looking ahead and shaking all over. Aphelios was seriously scared. Is she going to jump? He quickly started darting his eyes from the girl, then to the ground and back again. The fifth floor, and the ground is solid below. She's going to crash! But before he could return his gaze to the ground again, the girl had already gone out the window and flew down. Damn it! He had to catch her! Taking off and quickly covering the distance to the place of the fall, Aphelios stood up and put his hands forward, preparing to catch the suicide.

It seemed like an eternity had passed. You were flying down, closing your eyes, already resigned to the fact that now your head will turn into a bloody mess. But it wasn't meant to happen, because you felt like someone's hands caught you. And then you fell on a carpet of leaves with this someone. You understood absolutely nothing. Who wanted to save you from the fate you wanted? Who decided to leave you in a world full of torment? You turned your head and saw a guy with turquoise hair and blood-red eyes. He was sitting on the ground, holding you to him with one hand. You recognized him. It was Aphelios from the band HEARTSTEEL. What the fuck was he doing in the middle of nowhere? Wasn't he supposed to be with the other guys in the band right now? Your train of thought was interrupted by a whisper.

"Why?"

"I... I... I have the same question... Why did you do that? I wanted to die, and you... you!"

Tears involuntarily flowed from your eyes. Anger, despair, pain and resentment splashed out in the form of salty streams. This sight made Aphelios unbearable to watch the poor girl crying. Is it how bad everything is for you that you decided to do this? He didn't know that. He could only sigh and hug you to him.

"H-Huh?..."

You were in the deepest shock. It was the first time you've been hugged in such a long time. You... You felt this warmth again, which you haven't received for so long, and which you craved so much. The last time your late dad hugged you like that, and that's what made you burst into tears even more and cling to Aphelios' jacket with your hands.

"It's all good... Don't be afraid of me... I won't hurt you..."

His whispering had a sedative effect on you. You stopped shaking like a leaf in the wind and relaxed. Gradually, your loud crying subsided, taking with it all your negative feelings, leaving only emptiness.

Wrapping one arm around your shoulders, Aphelios whispered.

"Let's go. It's going to be dark soon."

Without answering in any way, you went together to the exit of this forest. When you finally reached the city, it was already evening, but the lights of the city illuminated the way. You stopped at a small cafe to catch your breath. And besides, the guy wanted you to warm up more or less, because when he walked with his arm around your shoulders, he felt that your clothes were wet. And last night there was a heavy downpour, so he guessed that you got under it. He ordered you a hot drink. All this time you've been sitting and staring at nothing. There was a void in your soul and head that you didn't know how to fill.

Meanwhile, Aphelios corresponded with his sister.

«Hello, Alune. Did I disturb you by any chance?»

«No, Phel. What happened? Are you going back already?»

«Yes, I'm on my way back. But I have some problem.»

«What happened? What's the problem???»

«I'll explain now. When I was walking through the woods, where you advised me to go, I came across a five-story abandoned building. I thought there was no one there, so I went there. Well, to record a composition there. When I got closer, I heard extraneous sounds. At first I thought I was imagining it, but it turned out that I wasn't. First there was shuffling, then footsteps, and then crying.»

«Crying???! 😨😨 And who cried?»

«It was a girl, as I realized then. Then out of curiosity I decided to take a look. And when I looked around the corner, I just fucked up. In general, there was a girl of about sixteen standing on the fifth floor. She cried and looked into the distance. Her hands and lips were shaking as if she had been launched naked into Antarctica. Do you know what the worst thing is?»

«What???😨»

«She was fucking standing on the edge, you know? ON THE VERY FUCKING EDGE!!!»

«Seriously??!! Did she really want to...???»

«Yes! It's a blessing that I managed to catch her before she crashed to her death...»

«What a horror... It's good that you were there in time. If it wasn't for you, then... Ehh, okay... Where is she now?»

«We're sitting in a cafe right now. We decided to take a break. Besides, she needs to be warmed up. She's all wet. She probably hasn't been home since last night.»

«What is she doing?»

«She just sits there and doesn't move much. Staring at nothing.»

«She's probably in a state of shock.»

«Alune, she's unlikely to tell me anything in the near future. I don't even know her name. Do you think it would be better if I brought her with me? And by the way, are the guys sleeping?»

«Yes, everyone is asleep, but Kayn has gone somewhere. He's probably being aired. And yes, you're right, bring her to us. She'll take a shower and sleep. Tomorrow we'll get together and find out everything.»

«Good. She will sleep in my room. See you later, sis.»

Putting the phone in his jacket pocket, Aphelios turned his attention back to you. Your posture and look haven't changed. Already when a hot drink was brought to you, you reluctantly took the mug in your hands and began to drink slowly. The musician immediately noticed that your hands were shaking a little. Alune was right, you're in shock.

After a while, when you finished your drink, you and the guy went out.

On the way, Aphelios thought about how everything would go tomorrow. He had a good day after all. He came to the forest to write a song, and he returns with a teenager who almost committed suicide. But he was still glad that he had saved a poor and so young soul from death. Nothing, tomorrow they will figure out what to do with you next.

Ezreal.

Sitting on a bench in the park, you looked up at the sky, from where heavy and cold raindrops fell that hit your skin on your face. The cold tried to get under your clothes, but you wrapped yourself even more in your father's leather jacket. Plan by plan, but you didn't want to freeze. You were thinking about where it would be best to spend the night, but you had no options. You had nowhere to go, and it was dangerous to go home, because you didn't know if your crazy stepfather had calmed down. Memories of the experience earlier made themselves felt. The temple began to throb painfully.

Wincing, you ran your finger over the place where a small river of red liquid had flowed out before. No, there was nothing. Thanks to the cap, the bleeding was stopped, but the pain did not go away. Reaching into your backpack again, you took out a pack of painkillers and a bottle of water. Fortunately, you always carried them with you just in case. Taking one tablet, throwing it into your mouth and drinking water, you exhaled, leaned back against the back of the bench, throwing your head back.

You thought about going to some small shop and asking the owner to warm up, but you realized that if you were accepted, then questions would begin. And then you will be invited to their home at all so that you can warm up and sleep. Okay, you'll sleep and rest, but in the morning you'll have to go to an empty and deserted place and execute your plan. And there may also be a chance that the owner of the shop may be a very kind person who wanted to help you, and you can get attached to them. It will be cruel to them if you leave without saying anything, and after a while they finds out that you committed suicide altogether. After all, they gave you warmth, comfort and care, and in this way you repaid them. No, no, you're not going anywhere. You can't get attached to people right now, you'll just be an extra burden on their shoulders. Who needs a pathetic and traumatized teenager?

Exhaling convulsively, you put your backpack on the edge of the bench, and then completely lay down on it, as on a bed, propping your knees to your chest. Your backpack has replaced your pillow, and your father's jacket is a blanket, as always. The rare people who passed by paid absolutely no attention to you. Of course, some tramp decided to rest. Let her lie and get wet, and this is no longer their concern, they have more important things to do. Soulless scums...

Gradually, your eyes began to slowly close. You didn't care about the rain that was inexorably pouring down on your exhausted body. Now you just wanted to fall into oblivion. You didn't even want to dream. Only a pitch-black void. And after a few moments, you fell where you wanted to.

Ezreal breathed in the morning and cool air that was soaked with moisture left over from last night's downpour. In his hand, hidden by a glove, he held a glass of coffee, which he periodically drank in order to protect himself from the cold of autumn. The morning was earlier, and there were almost no people on the street. And it was only to our early bird's advantage. He just wanted to be alone and enjoy the morning tranquility. And a cup of coffee only gave this atmosphere coziness and even some aesthetics.

And just by the way, the entrance to the park came into his field of vision. Great, he can sit on a bench there and fully immerse himself in this atmosphere. What can stop him?

Entering the park, Ezreal began to look around. There were trees everywhere, with leaves of all kinds of fiery shades falling from them every now and then. From bright yellow to burgundy, like royal velvet. The ground was littered with these very leaves, thereby decorating it. A kind of natural carpet on which anyone would want to lie down to feel part of all this beauty. The guy felt like he was in a fairy tale.

But then his gaze fell on one of the benches that stood in the park. He looked closer and saw that a person was lying on it. From afar, it was unclear to him who was lying there. At first he thought it was a homeless person or some kind of alcoholic. But as soon as he got a few steps closer, his guesses were instantly refuted. A sad sight opened before his eyes. On the bench, curled up like a little kitten, lay a sixteen-year-old girl, all soaked through. Her face was pale as a toadstool, her lips were blue from the cold. And the tips of her fingers were trembling slightly. Had she been lying here all night and getting wet in the rain? And no one bothered to help her? Ezreal stood and looked at her, thinking how selfish it would take to pass by a freezing and lonely girl. He also wondered why she was here all alone. Had she run away from home? No, it won't work that way. She needs help.

Approaching the bench, the guy put his hand on her shoulder and began to gently push her to wake her up.

"Hey, beauty, wake up. What are you doing here alone?"

You were brought out of the dream by someone's hand gently pushing you, as well as someone's voice.

"Mmh?..."

Somehow opening your eyes that were stuck together, you looked at the person who came up to you. At first everything was blurry, but the first thing that caught your eye was the hair the color of spring grass. Then everything became more or less clear, and soon you could see the owner of these very hair and voice. What was your surprise when you saw in front of you not some ordinary guy, but Ezreal himself - the vocalist of the band HEARTSTEEL.

"Hi. Oh my God, you're all wet! Have you been here all night?!"

And you were still lying on the bench and staring at him in a stupor. In his eyes, you saw the concern that was also imbued with his voice. Was he worried about you? No... No, no, no, not now. You can't betray your feelings, you can't cry, you can't cry...

"Hey, hey, why are you crying? Did I do something wrong?"

"N... n... N-No..."

Sitting next to you, he wrapped one arm around you, thereby forcing you to take a sitting position. You covered your face with your hands and still continued to shed tears, leaning forward. The green-haired guy just shook his head, and then, putting his hand on your back, began stroking, trying to comfort you. It was the first time anyone had been worried about you in such a long time. Many would have simply rejected it, believing that it was a trifle, but for you it was comparable to a real treasure. The most real and expensive.

But after a while you calmed down.

"Everything okay? Are you feeling better?"

You just nodded at that. Sighing, Ezreal got up from the bench, and then stretched out his hand to help you get up. Without forgetting your backpack, you went together to the exit of the park. You were silent for several minutes, but Ezreal decided to break this silence.

"So tell me, what were you doing here all night, huh?"

"... I was sleeping."

"Logically. But still... why? What were you doing here all alone, and even at night?"

"I don't know..."

"Friend, there's a reason for everything. I can see that you've been preparing for this."

The guy said, pointing to your backpack. Damn, what were you supposed to say now?

"Did you run away from home?"

"What?! No, no, I am... actually... yes..."

"Hmmm..."

Ezreal stopped and looked away, putting his hand on his chin, rubbing it with his thumb and forefinger. You were standing next to him and looked at him with an emotionless look. You didn't really care what he decided. If only not...

"Good. I'll take you back to your house. Your parents are probably worried about you..."

Parents... That word made your pupils narrow and your eyes widen to the size of saucers. A shiver ran through your whole body, causing a herd of goosebumps. Your arms and legs began to shake involuntarily, your palms clung to the straps of the backpack like a lifeline. Your heart was pounding like crazy, as if it wanted to break out like a bird in a cage.

"No... No... No... Don't..."

"Hey, friend, what's wrong with you? You're kind of pale and... Oh, my God..."

The impact on the ground echoed in his ears. He watched you sitting on the ground, clutching your head and repeating the same words.

"No... No... Don't want... Don't want... I'm not coming back... Hate... Hate..."

"This is bad... I have to do something..."

Picking up the phone, Ezreal instantly logged into Discord and started a group call. He didn't have to wait long.

"Ez?"

"Hi guys. Am I distracting you?"

"No, not really. What happened? You're in some kind of mess, aren't you?"

"I guess he's calling us again about some bullshit."

"Guys, don't interrupt me! Let me speak!"

"Pfft, go ahead..."

"Guys, we have an emergency. Emergency of universal scale."

"What is it this time?"

"And you listen to it yourself."

After falling silent, he came up to you a little so that the other members of the group could hear you. After a few seconds, walking back, Ezreal said.

"Well, have you heard, hm?"

"Are you serious right now?"

"Come on. Surely he decided to prank us, haha!"

"Joking is in the spirit of Aphelios, Kayn!"

"In general, guys, I found a teenage girl in the park. She was sleeping on a bench, and it looks like she spent the whole night there because she was wet. And I also found out that she ran away from home. And why, she doesn't say, and now I'm unlikely to be able to find out anything, because she's hysterical. You're already hearing it now."

"And who of us didn't run away from home as a child? Nothing, she'll get sick, calm down, and then take her home."

"I told her about it, but it all led to panic. It looks like everything is bad at home, since she reacted like that. Therefore, K'Sante, come. I'll send you the coordinates. Because I do not know how to calm her down in such a situation."

"All right, Ez. I'm getting ready."

"Yone, you cook something for now, because she's pale as a toadstool, and she probably hasn't eaten since yesterday."

"Don't worry, it will be done."

"Thank you. See you later!"

After completing the call, the guy turned to you. You were still hunched over on the ground, holding your head and muttering to yourself. A nightmarish and heartbreaking sight. It was unbearable for Ez to watch a very young and not yet strong soul suffer and suffer. A small, weak, defenseless, but beautiful girl completely alone in this cruel world that was ready to tear her to pieces. Someone had to protect her. Who will do it, if not him?

He squatted down next to you again and, wrapping his arms around you, pressed you to him, stroking your hair. It remains only to wait for K'Sante, but he will not move a millimeter before his arrival. You needed protection and warmth.

Kayn.

The downpour gradually began to stop, but soon completely subsided, leaving behind only huge puddles of moist coolness. By the time the downpour ended, the sky had turned dark blue, almost black. There was no moon in the sky, not even a star. One black canvas.

Just like the stars in the sky, there were almost no people on the streets. The power in this area has passed into the hands of silence, which has already sat down in its place and began to observe everything that is happening.

A mischievous and cool autumn breeze was still running through the streets. Like a child who was interested in everything, it touched every object that came in its way and whistled softly, as if giggling. It jumped on the branches of trees, like a fluffy red squirrel, stirring those few leaves that still somehow held on to the thin and crooked limbs of their carriers.

Jumping down from one of the fallen asleep trees, it flew up to the girl sitting on the bench and touched her, making her shiver from its cold and invisible body.

Wrapping yourself even more tightly in your father's leather jacket, you gasped, shaking like a little girl who was afraid of an imaginary monster under her bed. Your clothes were soaked through with rainwater, which was even worse. It stuck unpleasantly to your skin like a leech, and it made you look like a doormat. Take and squeeze out, a whole bucket of water will be poured. Although in your case, not only water, but also blood.

All this time you've been sitting on this bench and never got up from your seat. You sat and did not move, like a statue, and stared at one point, immersed in your thoughts. Thoughts that all this would end as soon as possible, and you would fully feel the embrace of that peace that you craved like water. The temple still hurt, but not much. The painkillers that you drank were slowly working. But it didn't help to get rid of the memories of the horror that happened at your house a few hours ago. Just the thought of a drunken mother and a cruel stepfather made a whole herd of goosebumps run through your skin, accompanied by shivering, but not from the cold, but from wild fear.

You didn't know what was going on at your house right now, but you didn't even want to know, because you guessed. Surely they were still sitting at the kitchen table, which was covered with a tablecloth stained with alcohol, vomit and tobacco ash, and continued to drink alcohol and sing songs from thirty or even forty years ago, not even noticing that their "beloved" daughter had long escaped from this pigsty. And, most likely, during this period of time they never bothered to check on you. This thought made you sick, disgusting and very insulting. It looks like they really had a bottle of alcohol more expensive than you, and they didn't need you. However, you realized this a long time ago.

"Heh... Still, I should disappear... Nobody needs me here..."

Mechanically, you raised your head to the night sky and looked at it as if you saw someone close and dear there.

"But you need me, don't you, Dad? Isn't that right? I want to go to heaven with you so much... Don't worry, we'll be together soon. It won't be long now..."

A slight smile appeared on your blue lips only for a moment.

As a result, you sat on this bench for an hour. Then you took your phone out of your backpack and looked at the time. It's already midnight.

"It's time..." You whispered, getting up from the bench.

The stiff joints immediately made themselves felt. After warming up a little, you went to the exit of the empty park, holding the straps of your backpack.

There was not a soul in the streets. The dark night has taken over everything, which will be the last for you today. You were scared. You were afraid of the unknown. Who knows what's there after death? Maybe there really is something there, or maybe there's nothing there at all? Just solid darkness. And it was the second option that scared you the most. You didn't want to be in the void, like a file deleted from the system. All resolve immediately came to naught.

"Maybe I should go home?..."

Why? You know what will happen if you come back. Everything will go in a circle again. Beatings, screams, scandals, eternal drunken parents, sleepless nights, bullying at school and tears pouring from your eyes. Why do you need all this? Is it not enough for you that you suffer day after day? Wouldn't it be easier to send it all to hell and finally get out of this fucking world? Since you conceived this idea, then you have to make it a reality. So what's the matter? Fear? Yes, everyone is afraid of the unknown, but at least then you won't suffer like a bird in a tight and small cage.

Clenching your hands into fists to such an extent that your knuckles turned white, you squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lower lip. There was a struggle going on in you. One side was crowding out the other. At first, the fight was on an equal footing, but then the dark side began to gain the upper hand. The bright side was weakening with each blow. The first blow, the second, the third, the fourth, the fifth and... Knockout.

Opening your eyes abruptly, you took off and ran with the speed of a bullet along the avenue illuminated by street lamps. The sound of your shoes on the asphalt echoed down the avenue. You ran without knowing exactly where you were going. It was as if your feet themselves were leading you to the place of realization of your terrible plan. Because of the adrenaline that was raging in you, you did not feel tired and pain in your legs at all. Now you could be compared to a champion in athletics, you were also rushing through the streets at high speed.

You accelerated only when you ran past the building of your school. The moment you ran past it, everything slowed down for a brief moment. A flash followed by memories of what happens to you there when you get there. Giggles, finger pointing, taunts and beatings in the toilet. Your dark side was whispering to you to run again.

You didn't know how long you were running like that, but you stopped only when you reached the embankment. Just as empty and lit by lanterns. Sitting on a nearby bench, you took a deep breath. It was like running a marathon.

Walking with your eyes along the entire embankment, you noticed the bridge. A very long and large bridge. And again, your feet seemed to lead you there by themselves.

Once there, you looked into the distance. The river that flowed calmly and slowly made you fall into some kind of trance state. It drew you, called you to it, and you obeyed this quiet call. Resting against the railings of the bridge, you looked down. The height was huge, and the water was definitely cold. If you jump off, then due to a collision with the surface of the water, you can break all the bones. But it's going to be fast, isn't it? You won't even feel it.

You've already started climbing over the railings, still looking at the river. Already being completely on the opposite side, you, holding hands and feet for the metal and cold fence, sighed. That's all. Your torment is over.

The quiet atmosphere of the embankment made Kayn calm down and think that no one could stop him now. A difficult day affected his emotional state. Before that, he was irritated and hot-tempered as never before, which almost led to a major quarrel between his colleagues. But fortunately he managed to go out tonight and clear his head so that tomorrow he could work with a fresh head.

At some point, his gaze caught someone climbing over the railings of a stone, but a huge bridge.

"What the fuck? What did they forget there?..."

Coming closer, he squinted and began to observe what was happening. Although it was impossible to really see who it was from this distance, something told Kayn that it was a teenager - a girl of sixteen. She had already completely climbed over the railings and, holding on to it, was looking down. Kayn also looked at the water. Then back. Then back to the water, and so in a circle several times. And then it hit him like an electric shock.

"Is she going to jump?! Holy shit, not that."

Taking off, the guy rushed to the bridge. He had catastrophically little time, and every second was important. Kayn has already guessed what is about to happen, but no, he must not allow it.

Breath. Exhale. Turning your gaze to the moon, you whispered softly, and a single tear ran down your cheek.

"Dad, I'm coming to you..."

You let go of the railings and...

"WHERE ARE YOU GOING?!"

The feeling of being grabbed by the collar and pulled on yourself finally brought you out of the trance. Someone's hands pulled you out of the clutches of death, bringing you back to the asphalt. You stood motionless, eyes wide open and looking at nothing. You didn't understand what was going on. And only then did those same hands clench tightly on your shoulders and start shaking you, and someone you knew looked right into your eyes. Kayn from HEARTSTEEL.

"What the fuck were you thinking?! Are you tired of living?!"

"... Yes."

A short, but clear and understandable answer.

"Is it how bad everything is for you that you decided to commit suicide?!"

Silence. Sighing, Kayn put his hand on his face and shook his head. He felt some kind of relief that you were alive and not in the arms of icy water right now.

"Where is your home?"

"NO! I'M NOT GOING BACK THERE!"

From your sharp and loud voice, the guy already shuddered. He immediately drew attention to your shaking body and eyes that were panicking from side to side. Panic. He knew it right away.

"Hey, calm down!"

Again you felt yourself being shaken by the shoulders. You've come to your senses.

"Damn, you're all wet. You were walking in the rain, right?"

"..."

"Okay, let's go. God forbid you get sick."

"Just please don't bring me home..."

"Pfft, I can already guess the reason for your decision. Don't worry, kiddo, you'll spend the night with the guys, and tomorrow you'll tell us what's going on at your home. Believe me, when I was your age, I also ran away from home."

"Really?"

"Uh-huh. Only then I was stupid. I wanted to show that I am an adult. But I see that your case is special."

His presence had a calming effect on you. You have already stopped shaking, and the feeling of anxiety has left you.

"Come on, suicidal girl." Grinning, he muttered.

Putting his arm around your shoulders, Kayn pulled you a little closer to him. You felt a kind of brotherly aura emanating from him. You felt safe with him. Now you no longer felt useless to anyone, otherwise he would have passed by and would not have tried to help you. Not everything is lost, right?

K'Sante.

The night has already fully taken possession of this city. The black sky covered everything around like a huge blanket. But it did not retain heat. Quite the opposite. It was very cold.

You were still sitting on a bench with your knees pressed to your chest and shaking. The cold bit you relentlessly in all the places available to it, especially where your clothes were soaked with rainwater. From this, the feeling of despair and loneliness only intensified. You wanted someone, at least someone, to hug you and warm you up. You wanted to feel the affection and warmth that you haven't received for so long. But there was no one. You're all alone. No friends, no relatives... You didn't count on your mother and stepfather. They didn't give a shit about you. They're not your support.

Deciding not to sit in one place, you got up and walked away from this quiet place.

There was almost no one on the street, but still rarely anyone passed. No one even thought about why a teenager walks all alone at this time of day. You saw only complete indifference in their faces. Well, that's for the best...

Approaching a long pedestrian crossing, you looked around. There was no one and nothing. No people, no cars. Only buildings and street lamps, the golden and warm light of which dispersed the night darkness. You stopped, then looked at the zebra. Smooth white stripes led to the other side, which was pretty far away.

"I wish the car would drive by now..." You whispered.

But the sound of music and the high beam of headlights caught your attention. But still wishes come true...

K'Sante drove along a completely empty road and shook his head to the beat of the music that was playing at full volume in the car. It's true that a night trip by car around the city helps to relax very well and get all the bad things out of your head. That's exactly what K'Sante was doing now - rushing along an empty road and not thinking about anything, only the music guided him.

With every turn, he recalled how, as a teenager, he once stole someone's cheap car with his old classmates in order to just have fun at the most beautiful time of the day - at night. He recalled how the police caught them, after all, and they went to the police station. And he remembered how he got a lot from his parents. Then he was too young and stupid to realize his mistake, but now he remembered it all with a laugh.

"God, how stupid I was then."

Turning the next corner, the vocalist drove out onto a long and wide road. It was empty here, too. Without slowing down, K'Sante continued, like a racer, to rush along the track. It's so good when there are no cars and people. Complete freedom. And there is no chance that someone will cross the road. After all, everyone has been asleep for a long time. What could possibly go wrong?

And then, abruptly and unexpectedly, like a wild forest animal, a person jumped out onto the roadway. The headlights illuminated their figure, but because of such a surprise, K'Sante could not figure out who it was. Shouting out in fright, the guy abruptly pressed the brakes in order to slow down and stop, but it was too late. Although the speed was reduced, but the collision could not be avoided. The person hit their head on the hood of the car and fell to the ground.

"No, not that!"

Opening the door and exiting the car, K'Sante ran up to the fallen person and squatted down in front of them. It was a teenage girl of sixteen. She was lying on the ground completely motionless, which made the guy panic. He began to frantically feel the fragile body in search of injuries. He didn't find any blood or anything else. He put his fingers to her neck and checked her pulse and breathing. Everything is fine. Panic instantly receded.

"Oh, my God... What are you doing here, little one, all alone and without parents?"

Asked K'Sante, but she didn't answer him because she was still unconscious.

The guy was confused. He didn't know what to do. Should he call an ambulance? So no, he didn't find any injuries, and her breathing was normal. Should he call the police? No, he'd be in trouble if they saw that he was the one who hit her. But that wasn't what was bothering him right now. He wondered what she was doing here at all. It's almost half past midnight, and she's walking the streets when everyone has been lying in their beds for a long time and dreaming the seventh dream. This is strange. Very, very strange...

Shaking his head, K'Sante gently picked up the girl in his arms and carried her to the car. Opening the back door, he put the poor girl on the seat, then went back to the driver's seat, not forgetting to close the door. Starting the engine, he drove off and drove back to the shared temporary apartment.

Throughout the journey, he periodically looked in the mirror to make sure that you didn't wake up. There were a lot of questions, but no answers. But nevertheless, he had to help you. And plus, when he examined you, he noticed that you were soaked from head to toe.

Arriving at the building, K'Sante parked and, getting out of the car and taking you out, went inside with you in his arms.

He opened the apartment door with some difficulty, because his hands were busy with you, but he succeeded. Without taking off his shoes, the guy immediately took you to his room, where he laid you on a warm bed. After taking off your jacket, hat and shoes, the vocalist found dried blood on your temple, which scared him seriously. Where did you get such a wound? He had even more questions. After covering you with a blanket, K'Sante looked at you with pity.

"Poor girl... Did you really run away from home? Okay, go to sleep. We'll find out tomorrow..."

After taking one last look at you, the man slowly left the room, leaving you alone. Tomorrow, he and the other guys, along with Alune, should find out what happened to you and how you ended up on the street.

Sett.

The next morning you woke up with aching pain in your back and joints. Sleeping on a bench all night was not a good idea, but how else? You had nowhere to go, it was very dangerous to be at home, so you had no options except to spend the night outside in the cold and alone. With grief in half, you barely got up from the wooden surface and began to stretch your cramped muscles. The crunching of joints seemed to be heard all over the neighborhood. Squinting your eyes and making soft groans, you continued to stretch your limbs. A sense of relief has finally come to you.

After blinking your eyes several times and shaking your head, you headed away from the park. It was early in the morning, but nevertheless, there were people on the street who were going to work or study. But you went neither there nor there. Your goal was completely different.

The morning cold, which now filled the whole air, continued to torment you nonstop. Its prehensile claws ran over your skin through your clothes, making you shiver. Clenching your teeth, you wrapped yourself even more tightly in your father's leather jacket in order to somehow avoid these touches. To some extent it helped, but not very much. In addition to this, people were talking everywhere, which annoyed you a little. You didn't want to be seen like this, much less approached and helped. No, you know what's best for you, and no one will be able to offer you a helping hand. You're on your own.

Deciding to hide from this noise, you headed to the nearest corner, where you could rest and reflect a little. Soon your ears were visited by silence. Exhaling, you leaned back against the wall, looking at the gray sky towering over the houses. That's what you wanted right now. To be completely alone in silence. Last night you couldn't get enough of it to the full, and now such an opportunity has turned up. Loneliness, silence, tranquility. That's what you've wanted for so long.

"Oh, look who we have here!"

That voice... Damn, not that. You knew it too well. Turning your head sharply in the direction of the source of this voice, you mentally groaned. Not those damn bastards. There was a girl standing a few meters away from you, along with several other people. Oh, you'll recognize them anywhere. Your damn classmates.

"Yes, this is our Y/N!" One of the guys who was standing next to your classmate, holding a cigarette between his teeth, said with an insidious grin.

They began to approach you slowly.

"What, you're a bum now, aren't you?"

You ignored them, averting your gaze from their filthy muzzles, which you wanted to turn into a bloody mess. And they continued to be sarcastic.

"Aren't you going to say hello to your friends, Y/N? How rude of you. And in general, what else can you expect from the daughter of drunks?"

And then followed their loud and mocking laughter. It, like worms, penetrated into your ears, causing your whole interior to boil and heat up, like metal that was processed in factories. You wanted to restrain yourself, take control of your words, but your body just wouldn't listen to you. It's as if some force has taken possession of you, forcing you to obey it.

Clenching your teeth and letting out a guttural low growl, you strained.

"Shut up..."

They were taken aback by this. Their eyes widened with incredible shock. It's the first time in a long time that you've responded to their taunts.

"What did you say there?! Say it again!"

"Do you have a hearing problem or did I not make myself clear? I said fuck off, you pathetic bitch..."

"You scum! Guys, teach her a lesson!"

One of them grabbed you by the neck and banged your head against the wall. You cried out loudly in pain. But then you were hit in the side, then in the stomach, where you have bruises from last night. The bruises that hadn't healed still hurt, which made the situation even worse, because it made the pain even more hellish. Another guy grabbed your leg and pulled you towards him, thereby knocking you to the asphalt. A sharp pain in the back of the head immediately made itself felt. Another scream escaped from your throat. Tears were already flowing down your cold skin, mixing with the dirt. They didn't stop beating you up. Each blow tore screams of pain and fear from your lungs that echoed in this place.

"Please don't- AAAAAAH!!!" You desperately begged them, trying to somehow avoid new blows, but they surrounded you, giving no way to retreat.

You screamed, called for help, but no one came. No, that's not how you wanted to end your life, you had other plans!

"Hey, let's have some real fun?"

"Wh... What...?"

One of them leaned towards you, looking straight into your eyes with his crazy gaze. There was a manic smile on his lips that indicated nothing good. The fear turned into a real panic, from which your whole weak body began to shake.

"Don't worry, baby, you'll love it!"

But before you could assimilate his words, you felt him begin to take off your jeans. And only now did you realize what he was going to do to you. You wanted to push him away from you, but two other guys held you by the legs, and two more by the hands, not letting you escape. No, no, you didn't want to experience it for yourself a second time. You've had enough of what happened back at your house, but it was even worse here. There was a whole fucking group of them! You tried to somehow escape, but what could you, a weak girl, do against four guys clearly superior to you in strength? Right, nothing...

"Come on, boys, fuck her properly." Said your classmate, who was standing next to you and smoking a cigarette, sadistically looking down at you. It was as if she was getting wild pleasure from the sight in front of her. However, it was.

Your gaze went back to the guy in front of you. Your jeans have been removed to the level of your ankles, and the fabric of your underwear has been pushed aside, revealing a view of your most intimate place. The guy himself had already pulled down his pants, and when he was ready to torture you in a new way, something happened. Like a bolt from the blue, a familiar voice rang out to you, which attracted the attention of the whole group, including your classmate.

"Hey, punks, come on, quickly leave her alone, otherwise I'll have to teach you a lesson in good manners."

There was a distinct note of menace in the voice. At that moment, all your tormentors took off and, like dogs, scurried away. You were left lying on the asphalt covered in mud. You quickly pulled your jeans back on, ignoring the pain in your hands. Only after that, none other than Sett - rapper of the band HEARTSTEEL ran up to you. He squatted down next to you, looking at you with a worried look.

"Hey, kid, how are you? Didn't they have time to... ehh... touch you?"

"No... But they beat me very badly..." You answered in a hoarse voice, holding your side, where you were hit the hardest.

"What scum they are... Okay, get up."

Getting to his feet, the guy held out his hand to you, and you took it. After that, he helped you up. The pain in your legs made you stagger a little, but fortunately you didn't fall.

"Do you need to call an ambulance?" Sett asked, still looking at you with concern dancing in his eyes.

"No... Not worth it... It's all good..."

"Definitely not worth it?"

You shook your head negatively, putting your hand on the strap of your backpack.

"Why don't I walk you home? It's not safe for you to go alone after that."

"H-Home?... No, I don't want to go back there..."

"Is something wrong? You look worried. No... you... Are you scared?"

Yes, the fear was on your face, and Sett saw it. Something clicked in his head. It looks like things were bad for you at home, since you didn't want to come back.

Sighing and shaking his head, Sett put his arm around your shoulders and led you away from this cursed alley.

"Don't worry, kid, I won't hurt you. Now you're going to go with me to the guys, and then tell me what's going on at your house. We won't hurt you, honestly."

He smiled broadly, then patted you on the head, making you let out a laugh. It was the first time you've laughed in such a long time.

Yone.

A whole hour has passed since the downpour began, and it did not even think to stop. It was getting stronger and stronger by the second, forming huge puddles on the ground. But this did not prevent Yone from enjoying this atmosphere. He walked through the park with an umbrella in his hand and inhaled fresh and moist, cool air into his lungs. Because of his work, he could hardly go out for a walk, and now he had such an opportunity, which he immediately took advantage of. He's wanted this for so long. Take a walk somewhere completely alone and take a break from all this routine fuss. Right now he was doing it. He let his ears take a break from electronic music and immerse themselves in the soothing sound of rain and rustling leaves.

And then something came into his field of vision. More precisely, not something, but someone. In the distance he saw a bench that was different from the others in that it was not empty. Someone was sitting there. It's strange, it's raining very hard outside, and in the park someone is sitting on a bench completely without an umbrella. He decided to take a closer look. After taking a few steps, he stopped. And after that, he was a little stunned.

A young girl of about sixteen was sitting on a wet bench, pressing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She laid her head on them. She wasn't dressed for the weather at all. He kept seeing her shaking all over. There was a backpack next to her. Anyone in Yone's place would have just walked past this poor girl, but he wasn't like that. He couldn't watch this girl getting wet and freezing. He wanted to help her.

He sauntered over to this bench and stood next to the girl.

"It's not good to sit here and get wet. So you can catch a cold."

He said in a calm tone, looking at her. She didn't react in any way, still hiding her face in her knees. This made the producer even more worried.

"You don't have to be afraid of me. I just want to help you."

And only after these words, the teenager raised her head. The condition of her face just horrified the man. It was tired, her lips were shaking, and there were dark circles under her eyes. There was pain, despair, hopelessness, helplessness in her eyes... unwillingness to live. It seemed that he saw before him not a young girl, but a martyr who had gone through hell.

"What's wrong with your face?"

You didn't answer.

After examining you again, Yone noticed a small red spot on your temple. Bad thoughts slowly began to creep into his head. Where did you get the dried blood on your temple? Then he looked at the backpack. Okay, it's not funny anymore. The situation is serious. Yone has already begun to guess how you got here. Backpack, your condition, dried blood on your temple and... bruises on your wrists? Yes, he noticed that too.

"Look, I don't know what happened to you or how you got here, but I really want to help you. I can see how bad you feel. Let's do this. You're coming with me. When we get there, you'll wash up, change your clothes, and I'll feed you. Then you will go to bed, and tomorrow you will tell everything that happened to you. Really, I don't want to hurt you. You're young, and you don't have to suffer."

He tried to persuade you several times, and in the end you trusted him. Getting up from the bench and taking the backpack, you went to him. He covered you both with an umbrella and, putting his hand on your shoulder, walked with you to the exit of the park.

"It's all right, child, you can trust me. I won't hurt you."

Continued in the next part...

A/N: I finished it! Thank you for reading it. I really tried...

#Spotify #league of legends #heartsteel x reader #league of legends x reader #heartsteel #aphelios #ezreal #kayn #k'sante #sett #yone #heartsteel aphelios #heartsteel ezreal #heartsteel kayn #heartsteel k'sante #heartsteel sett #heartsteel yone #riot games #MetalFairyFanfics

[calhanx]

Please let me make a fansession with these dumbasses. Do you have Dream moons or even classpects?

nothing official yet since im still in the process of adding more socials to the mix but for now my very rough draft is

tumblr — prospit (page of life)

4chan — prospit (prince of hope)

twitter — derse (thief of heart)

tiktok — derse (bard of time)

reddit — prospit (seer of rage)

instagram — prospit (maid of space)

deviantart — derse (heir of void)

youtube — derse (knight of light)

as for my reasoning, pages tend to suffer from their aspect being taken from them or suffering from other people's manifestation of the PAGE's aspect. tavros's agency was always taken away by vriska. jake was everyones crush in the alpha kids group (one of hopes domain is sexuality and crushes. so its like they had hopes for jake) and it ended horribly. and horuss was often told off by meulin to keep a facade of smiles and politeness (voiding him even FURTHER). or whatever i dont remember much.

and yknow tumblr is like. why the hell does everyone think this site is dead? its cause twitter got most of the userbase when the porn ban happened. then BAM suddenly folks wanna get a piece of tumblr cause theyre all suffering under annoying billionaires (luxury is a domain of life, but can also be a source for doom).

as for 4chan. well ok im not familiar with 4chan but their vibes pretty similar to eridan so lets go with that.

twitter is a thief of heart because they always steal content from other sites (technically most sites do this) and its got a culture of being mean all the damn time even to earnest (heart) things. and i guess because of the short shelf life of tweets and trends, its impossible for most of its userbase to really make an identity? excpet for the influencers on there lol idk. so theres this lack of their aspect, which is a thing thieves go through and is something that causes them to always seek said aspect. still tentative!

tiktok is a bard of time because they invite destruction to time. they waste your time. they waste other peoples time. thats literally how its built. even its trends and culture make ME (personal opinion) go "why am i being subjected to this i dont care stop wasting my time". they dont last long either or at least dont stay relevant (to ME)

reddit. idk thats the place where smarty know it alls go. and yknow the challenge for seers is that they have to learn how to be wrong and EFFECTIVELY communicate with their teammates (kankri failed on both accounts. kept shitting on porrim. pre retcon rose failed on the latter because yknow alcoholism. retcon rose eeeeeh didnt really have a choice in improving herself on her own cause vriska did it for her but hey if it works it works i guess). if you make reddit into a person, seer feels like an appropriate class. also i picked rage for them because rage = truth. also lots of trolls on there, both in provoking rage through silly funnies, real life stories, real life but Insane stories, or legit fucked up stuff.

instagram is the maid of space because idk its vibes make me think porrim would like it. tentative idk much about it. all i know is that its very prospit-y because it requires the user to have a looot of grit to maintain their acc because of their shitty "post regularly" algorithm. at least from what i remember.

deviantart is heir of void because they are like equius. i think you get it. horses. sweat.

youtube is a knight of light because its culture revolves around its content creators! and yknow ccs gotta put up a front to entertain ya. its light because of its content! they literally need and breathe your attention. sometimes has educational stuff (knowledge) sometimes is just shitposts (attention) sometimes its really cool impressive stuff like speedrunning and gaming (victory/luck) sometimes its just funny challenges (success over goals). so putting all this together and makin a person out of it its like oh! theyre going to be sooooooo dysfunctional

anyway lots of this is still not finalized but feel free to do what ya want! socialstuck is free to share and im always glad to find folks makin stuff about it :]

#homestuck #calhanxtalks #socialstuck #tumblr #twitter #reddit #ok i dont think i wanna list down all the goddamn social sites fuck that #classpects

[gothamcitycentral]

They’ve Bitten a Few Heads Off

Killer Croc: Killer Croc is a Batman villain who has lived a life of hard ship since birth. He was raised by his abusive and alcoholic aunt after his mother died during childbirth and his father died in a car crash (which is occasionally implied to be a suicide). He was relentless bullied growing up and would eventually become a circus act where he fought alligators and was subjected to abuse by his employer. He would later leave and become involved in organized crime. Despite his monstrous appearance, offering him even a small bit of humanity will reveal a truly caring individual. He is known for being a loving partner, a protector of his fellow homeless people, and being an occasional ally of the Bat.

Kaiman: Kaiman is the main protagonist of the manga and anime series. He is a human born in the Hole with an immunity towards magic. He has made it explicitly clear that "Kaiman" was not his actual name, but was given to him after he began suffering from amnesia. His lizard head being the result of a Magic User's curse, and his main goal to seek out the one who cursed him in order to change his face back. But, because he can't remember who cursed him, Kaiman resorts to clamping his mouth around the head of every Sorcerer he comes across.

#killer croc #waylon jones #dc comics #kaiman drhdr #dorohedoro #polls #round 2 #tumblr’s reptilian swag wars

[anotherpapercut]

I agree that drugs should be legalised and not stigmatized but you're delusional if you think "most drugs can be consumed completely safely with almost 0 risk to the user"

I think the key here is the word "can" by which I mean that if consumed in safe doses and safe environments and from safe sources etc most like mainstream drugs (I'm thinking of like mdma, LSD, shrooms, ketamine, coke) CAN be consumed safely with very little risks. I know this to be a fact #1. because I've done a lot of actual research on this where I've read numerous sources from scientists doctors and users as opposed to just say taking in the abstinence only information I received during school, reading a couple Tumblr posts and assuming I know everything there is to know about the topic and #2 I've used every drug I just listed and more and never suffered any adverse effects because I did my research, tested them for impurities when appropriate, and took other measures to ensure my safety

there are obviously exceptions and drugs that just shouldn't be fucked with (meth and heroin is what I'm thinking, but I also know people who have consumed these once or twice with 0 repercussions because that's how human experience works), but if you're actually interested in learning more about the many ways in which you were lied to about how "illegal drugs" are somehow automatically much worse for you than prescription drugs or socially acceptable drugs (like caffeine and alcohol) then feel free to either 1. do your own ACTUAL research that does not involve trusting for profit rehab centers and abstinence only educators (I'll even get you started with a couple good resources) or 2. message me off anon to have a real discussion about the mechanisms by which the most common drugs operate and the ways in which they can be consumed as safely as you can consume alcohol cigarettes and energy drinks but sending me your half cocked uninformed and unnecessarily insulting opinion on anon is not exactly productive. additionally, I'm sure you can see why I struggle to see or believe that you ACTUALLY think drugs should be destigmatized and aren't just parroting what you think the correct woke opinion is when you refuse to even take the very first step to destigmatizing drugs, drug use, and drug users and actually unlearn all the stigmatizing things you've been taught

I know that it's a lot easier just to port over all the things you've learned from dubious sources that you trusted implicitly because they claimed to be an authority and not actually do the work required to achieve the goals you claim to support, but easier doesn't mean right

#thanks for trying though #messages like this are so interesting because what are you trying to accomplish here #oh fuck guys someone anonymously called me delusional for stating a fact which i can support with research #guess i better change my whole world view #i guess if im giving you the benefit of the doubt here ill say maybe i used the word 'most' a bit erroneously #considering there are like thousands of prescription and nonprescription drugs #but ironically people always talk about the danger of drugs without actually meaning to invlude prescription drugs #even when theyre talking about things like fentanyl. because prescription drugs are just thought of as safe #in a way that like lsd (which is extraordinarily safe) is not #but even still i feel that the rest of the point of my post shouldve overshadowed what might be somehwat of an exaggeration #youve just ignored the entire rest of the post in favor of supporting your preexisting worldview #so you can feel superior for some reason? like why else would you send this message #fascinating

[thenerdygeekyana]

My problem with celebrity tequila brands

Okay, this isn't in any way, shape, or form to be hateful towards Lewis or other foreign Tequila brand owners, the purpose is to create consciousness of Jalisco's and Mexico's context. 

Agave cultivation has a significant impact on Mexico, both positive and negative. Here are some of those impacts:

Economic Impact: Agave cultivation is a major economic driver in Mexico. The agave plant is primarily known for its use in producing tequila, mezcal, and other alcoholic beverages. These products contribute significantly to Mexico's economy through exports and tourism. Tequila alone is a billion-dollar industry and provides employment to many Mexicans, particularly in the Jalisco region, where most tequila is produced [1]. Investments from foreign celebrities and millionaires in distilleries contribute to the local economy by creating jobs, supporting tourism, and generating revenue through exports. [1.2] These ventures often lead to increased economic activity in the region, benefiting businesses and local communities, although more often than not, workers are paid minimum wage, which just for context the minimum wage is 207.44 pesos daily (equivalent to 10.71 Euro or 11.31 USD), which no one cannot live with a minimum wage, with groceries and rent going up, the current cost of living monthly for one person is around  24,950 pesos monthly. [1.3][1.4]

Cultural Impact: Agave has been used for centuries by indigenous communities for food, fiber, medicine, and ritual purposes [2]. Foreign-owned distilleries often emphasize traditional Mexican production methods and cultural heritage, thereby promoting Mexican culture and craftsmanship on the global stage. Some foreign-owned distilleries collaborate with local artisans and experts, preserving traditional techniques and knowledge related to agave cultivation and distillation. This collaboration can help safeguard traditional practices and expertise from being lost over time [2.1]. But sadly that is not the case for all businesses, which leads us to another negative impact, the appropriation of Mexican traditions, including the art of tequila and mezcal production [2.2], where foreign-owned distilleries may not fully understand or respect the cultural significance of agave-based spirits. This can lead to the commercialization of traditional products without adequate understanding or respect for their cultural and historical context [2.3].

Environmental Impact: Agave plants help prevent erosion and promote biodiversity by creating microhabitats for various organisms [3]. However large-scale monoculture of agave for tequila production can lead to environmental issues such as soil erosion, loss of biodiversity, and excessive water usage. Intensive farming practices, including the use of pesticides and herbicides, can harm local ecosystems, impacting flora and fauna [4]. Also, the focus on cultivating specific agave varieties for tequila and mezcal production has led to the neglect and potential loss of other agave species. This loss of agrobiodiversity could have negative consequences for future crop resilience and adaptation to changing environmental conditions [4.1].

Water Usage: Agave cultivation requires a significant amount of water, especially in regions where it is not native. In areas suffering from water scarcity, this can strain local water resources, leading to environmental stress and conflicts with other water users [5]. Jalisco, like many other regions in Mexico, has experienced water scarcity issues. On that note, water distribution is also unequal, with urban areas often receiving better access to water supply and sanitation services compared to rural regions. This disparity has posed challenges, particularly for agricultural communities that rely heavily on water for farming, a problem that the farms sponsored by foreign owners will most likely not encounter. [5.1][5.2][5.3][5.4]

Social and Economic Inequality: Despite the economic benefits of agave cultivation, there are concerns about social and economic inequality within the industry. Small-scale farmers and agave workers may face exploitation and unfair wages, highlighting issues related to labor rights and social justice [6]. There are concerns about the impact on local communities, particularly in terms of gentrification and rising property prices. As the area becomes more popular due to celebrity-owned distilleries, it can lead to the displacement of local residents and changes in community dynamics [6.1]. Small, local tequila and even wine producers find it increasingly challenging to compete with the marketing power and global reach of these large, celebrity-endorsed brands. As a result, local businesses struggle to gain traction both within Mexico and in the international market. This situation not only affects local commerce but also puts pressure on the livelihoods of Mexican workers and communities involved in the industry. [6.2]

The disappointment expressed towards individuals like Kendall Jenner, Lewis Hamilton, and George Clooney, to name a few, stems from the concern that their involvement in such ventures could perpetuate the challenges faced by small, local businesses. It is essential for consumers and enthusiasts to conduct their research, raising awareness about the impact of foreign tequila brands on Mexican soil and the workers. Supporting local, sustainable, and ethical producers can play a significant role in preserving the cultural heritage, empowering local communities, and fostering a more equitable and just industry.

References: (if you want to get more informed please feel free to read the following documents)

[1]: "The Tequila and Mezcal Market in Mexico," Euromonitor International, 2018.

[1.2]: Herrick, C. (2018). The Economic Impact of the Tequila Industry. El Daily Post. Retrieved from https://www.eldailypost.com/mexico/mexican-tequila-industry-economic-impact/

[1.3]: Precios y Costo de Vida en Guadalajara, México. Precios actualizados en octubre 2023. (n.d.). Expatistan, Comparaciones De Precios Y Costo De Vida. https://www.expatistan.com/es/costo-de-vida/guadalajara

[1.4]: Del Trabajo Y Previsión Social, S. (n.d.). Entran en vigor salarios mínimos 2023 en todo el país. gob.mx. https://www.gob.mx/stps/prensa/entran-en-vigor-salarios-minimos-2023-en-todo-el-pais?idiom=es

[2]: Casas, A., Otero-Arnaiz, A., Pérez-Negrón, E., & Valiente-Banuet, A. (2007). In situ management and domestication of plants in Mesoamerica. Annals of Botany, 100(5), 1101-1115.

[2.1]: Alemán, G. (2018). Traditional, Artisanal Mezcal Finds a Home in Mexico City. The New York Times. Retrieved from https://www.nytimes.com/2018/04/05/travel/mezcal-tours-mexico.html

[2.2]: Haas, A. (2017). The Growing Popularity of Mezcal: A Global Business and Mexico's National Spirit. The Mexicanist. Retrieved from https://www.themexicanist.com/p/the-growing-popularity-of-mezcal

[2.3]: Magazine, B. (2014). Tequila's Latest Hurdle: Cultural Appropriation. Bloomberg Businessweek. Retrieved from https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2014-05-01/tequilas-latest-hurdle-cultural-appropriation

[3]: Nobel, P. S. (2003). Environmental Biology of Agaves and Cacti. Cambridge University Press.

[4]: Toledo-Guerrero, E. O., & López-Mata, L. (2012). Agave as a model CAM crop system for a warming and drying world: Scaling from ecophysiology to crops and ecosystems. In Plant Responses to Drought Stress (pp. 685-710). Springer.

[4.1]: Colunga-GarcíaMarín, P., May-Pat, F., & Eguiarte, L. E. (1999). The Pleistocene glacial cycles and the origin of the Agave victoriae-reginae complex (Agavaceae) in Central Mexico. Molecular Ecology, 8(10), 1605-1613.

[5]: Mayer, M., & Glenna, L. L. (2017). Economic geography, community attachment, and sustainability in the wine and agave industries in Jalisco, Mexico. Geoforum, 78, 92-104.

[5.1]: CNA (Comisión Nacional del Agua). (2017). Estadísticas del Agua en México. Retrieved from http://www.conagua.gob.mx/CONAGUA07/Publicaciones/Publicaciones/EAM_2017.pdf

[5.2]: García, A. B., & Valdés, G. S. (2013). Sustainability of Water Resources in Jalisco, Mexico. Sustainability, 5(12), 5189-5213.

[5.3]: GIZ (Deutsche Gesellschaft für Internationale Zusammenarbeit). (2014). Integrated Water Resources Management in Mexico: Experiences and Lessons Learned from the Altos de Jalisco. Retrieved from https://www.giz.de/en/downloads/giz2014-en-water-altos-de-jalisco-en.pdf

[5.4]: SEDESOL (Secretaría de Desarrollo Social). (2018). Diagnóstico del Agua Potable, Alcantarillado y Saneamiento en México. Retrieved from https://www.gob.mx/cms/uploads/attachment/file/384212/Diagnostico_Agua_Potable_Alcantarillado_y_Saneamiento.pdf

[6]: Torres-Ruiz, F. (2012). Haciendas, peones, and post-revolutionary politics: The early history of the tequila industry. Mexican Studies/Estudios Mexicanos, 28(2), 305-334.

[6.1]: Barajas, A. (2019). In a Mexican town dependent on tourism, a tequila bar starts a debate. Los Angeles Times. Retrieved from https://www.latimes.com/world-nation/story/2019-12-27/in-tourism-dependent-tequila-mexicans-ask-is-it-still-ours

[6.2] Ficker, M. (2019). "Sipping on Social Justice: How Your Tequila Purchase Supports Mexican Communities." Forbes.

[6.3] Almeida, I., de Azevedo, J., & Assunção, L. (2019). "Mexico and Its Tequila Industry: Production and Exports." Brazilian Journal of Food Technology, 22.

[6.4] Mora, D. F., & Catepillán, D. (2018). "Territorial and Innovation Dynamics in the Mezcal Industry in Mexico: Challenges and Opportunities." Agroecology and Sustainable Food Systems, 42(5), 543-563.

#lewis hamilton #f1 #tequila #mexico #mexican gp 2023 #mexican gp #george clooney #kendall jenner #kardashian #netflix #george russell #sergio perez

[mega-ringsandthings-world]

I'm back on my asking bullshit, and I bring the pain!

So, I know I've talked about physical healing before, specifically to do mostly with Mihawk, but let's talk about Shanks! The way you describe his scars indicates first, second and third-degree burns covering the whole of his upper body. The ow factor aside, the fact that he didn't pass out from the pain is both horrifying in its implications for his pain tolerance and horrifying because if he didn't pass out, there's a good chance he cooked his nerves dead. This is bad for recovery because, on one hand, burn victims have been known to die from the immense stress and pain full-body burns produce. Not feeling the pain could keep him alive, but once the adrenaline wears off, Shanks is going to be in agony for a very long time that only pain meds can help with, and even that's iffy on them helping all the way. Oh the other hand if he crisped his nerves that means long healing more damages and a lot more affect on his over all ability to move from stretching to reaction time.

Then there's the healing. You are a well-informed individual, but for those who aren't informed, every burn victim I've looked up has said they'd rather burn a hundred times before having to go through the healing process of burns again. In fact, at some point, they wished they'd died instead of going through it again. They'll have to change Shanks' bandages every day from his face to down his torso, and every day it will feel like being skinned alive as the nerves come back on. Not to mention the removal of necrotic skin—debridement over a period of time as the nerves and new skin grow back. Oh, and skin grafts, so many skin grafts. So, a lot of surgery.

His life for a year or two is going to go from psychological torture straight into the physical torture of healing. No wonder he develops an addiction to drugs and alcohol. His life is pain, his mind is a death trap, and he's losing the love of his life inch by torturous inch.

PT is going to be hell for both of them. Shanks will probably have to wear compression garments/bandages all over his face and body while he heals all the time, which will fuck with him movement-wise. Hopefully, the One Piece magic healing will reduce that from two years to about one instead.

Yeah healing from burns is no Joke and if Shanks wasn’t already riddled with trauma this would be more to add to the pile.

!!!!! Yessssss. Pain is my thing. This is a great topic, because those those are Mihawk's haki burns, which are very, very interesting, because, key word, Haki. If haki burns possess the physical characteristics of thermal burns, then Shanks is indeed going to be in agony for a very long time. Everything you mentioned Shanks would suffer and require for his healing, the daily changes of bandaging across a large portions of his body, necrotic skin removal, grafts/surgery. (Burns are not something I'd wish on my worst enemy, recovery from them even less so. Pain meds only take a chunk off that utter hell.) And irregardless of physical characteristics, the pain of receiving those burns would amount to the pain of third-degree burns either way. Even with how high his pain tolerance is at the time (due to all the previous torture) he wouldn't keep consciousness for long after being initially burnt. Nerves are indeed cooked, literally cooked (or switched off by the brain due to the psychosomatic-inducing shock of the haki) Which brings us to how haki burns could differ from thermal burns, simplified, haki is the manifestation of the will of the user, and Mihawk was exerting so much will to protect Shanks that a shadow of the "shield" he was creating imprinted on Shanks' body. The question is whether or not armament haki possesses kinetic energy when in use, and if the force from the impact of it with Shanks generated enough thermal energy to burn nearly a third of his body. On one hand, it's realistically possible, given that armament haki can be physically seen when used for Hardening, on the other hand, and taking into account that haki is a metaphysical thing, the burns inflicted in that case could also be more metaphysical, and so fully psychological/neurological. Nerve receptors and brain synapses would be fucked, pulses wouldn't be transmitted right, the parietal lobes are completely rattled loose do to the infliction of external willpower. Shanks would suffer the pain (or what his brain is telling him is pain, it's trying to categorize the effect haki caused to it and the closest thing it has is pain) of physical burns on the parts of his body touched by the haki, and the further pain of nerves on-lining as his brain slowly-unfucks itself. So while there may be no actual physical burns save for pesudo-tattoos of the Hardening effect, it will feel like there are, which does a number psychologically on a different level. Feeling pain you can neither see nor find no evidence of. Either way, yeah it's no mystery why Shanks turns to alcohol to deal with this. And compounding Mihawk's conditions and distance during all of this, Mihawk is the one responsible for Shanks' burns, whatever version he may have. Mihawk was the one who caused Shanks the pain he has to live with for years, and this is not lost on him. Neither is the utter guilt he would feel because of it. Healing will be hell indeed, either Shanks is getting his skin scraped off or buried in his treatments bandages, or is trying to scrape his own skin off to try to exorcise the perpetual sensation of being burnt. Not a fun thing to deal with in the midst of everything else he currently will be shouldering.

#one piece #op #opla #dracule mihawk #akagami no shanks #hawkeye mihawk #red haired shanks #mihawk one piece #shanks one piece #mishanks #mihawk x shanks #op marines #loguetown au

[psychicreadsgirl]

SNSD/Girls' Generation Reading/Information

This is based on whatever I can pick up from SNSD. This is a psychic reading. There may be tea so I won't list names.

Some members are really close and are best friends, almost like family.

1 member is generally very disliked by the members and most of them think she is very dumb and ignorant.

Most of the members are dating at least someone. A couple of the members have no interest in marriage or having children. A few members are only into casual dating/flings. One member is particularly known to have many backups/options.

One member enjoys picking her nose and then flicking her boogers at others.

One member is very self-conscious of her looks, especially her hair. She is fearful of balding.

Some members are heavy partiers and also drink a lot. These members have also experimented with drugs and are recreational drug users. They like going to raves/clubs. A few members may be addicted to drugs/alcohol/smoking - I'm sensing pain killers in particular for one person.

A couple of members cannot sleep.

One member is very spoiled and thinks she is better than the rest of the members. She is quite arrogant and makes a lot of sharp comments that are quite condescending. Staff are scared of her passive aggressiveness/vengefulness.

One member likes to use her mental health as an excuse for things and as a way to market herself.

One member insists to have hot/pretty bodyguards around her.

One member hates showering/bathing esp washing her long hair so she can go on without showering for days.

One member has a shopping addiction and cannot stop buying luxury goods.

One member is in a long-term relationship. The love between the partners has died out but they are together for the sake of their career. She doesn't want to marry him.

Several members have cheated on their partners.

A couple of the members are particularly kinky.

One member likes to eat a lot of different food but will not finish any of them, so there's a lot of leftovers and she doesn't pack them up. Lots of food waste.

One member likes to sit in a way that's considered impolite/rude in public.

One member litters a lot and also doesn't pick up after her pet.

One member has a dog and uses the dog as an accessory. She actually doesn't care about the dog at all and the dog has starved on many occassions.

One member likes to post on forums/Naver etc and spread bad stuff about the other members or other idols.

One member really hates a lot of male idols and their groups, including BTS and EXO.

Several members actually do not get along with their parents or siblings and a few have some money issues with the family.

Two members want to leave SNSD.

Several members suffer from eating disorders or mental health illnesses. One has recovered from an eating disorder.

A couple of members have dated within the company, including staff/manager.

Several members have had to do some extra stuff to get their solos/acting gigs.

One member has gone on a date with several popular kpop male idols.

One member likes to date younger people like a huge age gap.

One member likes to make fun of people too much; it's usually seen as a "joke" but really she's laughing at others.

One member in particular is super heavily in debt and is always borrowing money/forgetting her wallet at outings. Some of the brands that she has endorsed are angry at her because she promised to make some posts/videos but they were of subpar quality or never happened.

#kpop predictions #celebrity readings #kpop readings #celebrity predictions #psychic readings #general readings #friendship readings #snsd #girl's generation #sm #sm entertainment

[religion-is-a-mental-illness]

By: Freddie deBoer

Published: Apr 29, 2022

Marianne Eloise wants the world to know that she does not “have a regular brain at all”. That’s her declaration, on the very first page of her new memoir, Obsessive, Intrusive, Magical Thinking. The book catalogues her experience of a dizzying variety of psychiatric conditions: OCD, anxiety, autism, ADHD, alcohol abuse, seasonal affective disorder, an eating disorder, night terrors, depression. By her own telling, Eloise has suffered a great deal from these ailments; I believe her, and wish better for her. But she would prefer we not think of them as ailments at all. And that combination of self-pity and self-aggrandisement is emblematic of our contemporary understanding of mental health.

Eloise is a champion of neurodivergence, an omnibus term that’s recently ballooned in popularity, which can include autism, anxiety, borderline personality disorder, or indeed any other psychiatric condition that’s hot right now. The term is designed for making sweeping pronouncements. Forget the fact that, say, autism and schizophrenia are so different that they have at times been described as opposite conditions. Forget the fact that saying you’re neurodivergent has as much medical meaning as saying you have a disorder of the body. The idea is that there’s a group of people whose brain chemistry differs, in some beautiful way, from some Platonic norm. And it’s an idea that’s taken on great symbolic power in contemporary liberal culture.

There is, for example, a thriving ADHD community on TikTok and Tumblr: people who view their attentional difficulties not as an annoyance to be managed with medical treatment but as an adorable character trait that makes them sharper and more interesting than others around them. (They still demand extra time to take tests, naturally.) It’s also easy to come across social media users who declare how proud they are to be autistic; I’m glad they’re proud, but their repetitive insistence makes me wonder who exactly they’re trying to convince, us or them.

Darker, there’s the world of “DID TikTok”. DID, dissociative identity disorder, is a profoundly controversial condition, once known as multiple personality disorder. Many serious experts question whether it exists at all; at the very least it’s incredibly rare. And yet thousands of adolescents have diagnosed themselves with the condition, and happily perform their various personalities for their social media followers, typically in ways that defy all established psychological understandings of the disorder.

Against this backdrop, Eloise is a marketing department’s dream come true: hers is a story of the young, beautiful, dysfunctional — and successful. Eloise is the perfect 21st-century woman, from a certain internet-enabled philosophy of human affairs. She is an admirer of witchcraft and believes that women have a mythical connection to water. She does a lot of drugs and becomes bisexual. She uses Tumblr and travels the world, vacationing in Lisbon and the south of France, and moves to Los Angeles to be an actor, taking care to embed that period of her life in a self-defensive patina of irony. She lives an enviable life of obvious socioeconomic privilege, which she does not have time to recognise, as she’s too busy cataloging her psychiatric maladies.

She crams them into every last anecdote: apparently nothing happens to her that she does not ultimately attribute to those maladies. Eloise’s love of swimming as a child is, for instance, laboriously explained in terms of her neurodivergence. I’m talking thousands of words. It seems never to have occurred to her that a love of swimming is not exactly rare among children, or that she doesn’t have to justify her joy at being in the ocean by making it “deeper”. Again and again, she holds perfectly mundane attitudes and behaviours up to the reader and says “Isn’t this special?”

The label of neurodivergence is so vague and capacious, pretty much anything can be pulled into its orbit and made “diverse”. There’s a meme that crops upon Tumblr, TikTok and Twitter that starts with “the neurodivergent urge to…” and is immediately followed by, well, just about anything a person does. Common examples include the neurodivergent urge not to reply to an email or to order food in rather than cooking what’s in the fridge.

Take Eloise’s nightmares. She has, at times in her life, suffered from debilitatingly bad dreams that made sleep a constant source of fear and pain. This sounds like an awful condition, and she deserves sympathy. But she gives the game away when she writes: “Maybe my relationship with dreaming wasn’t like everyone else’s.” Not like everyone else’s, no. But certainly like that of many people who suffer from recurring and terrifying nightmares. Eloise writes that, according to the Mayo Clinic, nightmare disorder “only affects around 4-5% of adults, which shocked me: did adults really not have nightmares?” It’s as if she genuinely does not know the difference between 4% and zero.

It is perhaps comforting to see every last detail of one’s life as the product of some uncontrollable force. “I am this way because I was born this way,” Eloise writes, in a remarkably bald denial of personal responsibility. As a pawn of the various interior forces that do combat in her brain, she is adamant that there is nothing wrong with her, that her suffering is all in service to some deeper way to live, and that she is proud of the very conditions she asks us to treat as a perpetual get-out-of-jail-free card for her behaviour.

The implication is that the neurodivergent might just be better than other people. As with introverts, social media users have developed a discourse around neurodivergence that is nakedly self-celebratory, a bragger’s genre. Eloise has clearly endured a great deal of hardship, but like her culture she seems to feel that this hardship can only be given meaning by being woven into a journey of self-actualisation. Eloise writes that her life is “underpinned and ultimately made whole by obsession”. Can you imagine a sadder statement: an adult telling you that there is nothing to distinguish her or give her value but her psychiatric conditions, conditions she shares with millions of others?

Diagnosis is the Holy Grail of the neurodivergence narrative. Eloise fixates on hers and its quasi-mystical powers. No reader could doubt that her problems are real, but she seems to have treated getting diagnoses like a consumer on Amazon. She states flat out, on several occasions, that she went shopping for an autism diagnosis, went to doctors with the express intent of wringing one out of them. There was a time when self-diagnosis was understood to be unhealthy, and perhaps embarrassing, but this is a brave new world we’re living in now.

Once enough people insist on mental illnesses as upbeat and fashionable lifestyle brands, then any of us who oppose it are guilty of the most grave sin of all, the sin of perpetuating stigma. It’s stigma to call autism a disorder, despite the fact that it renders some completely nonverbal and unable to care for themselves; it’s stigma to suggest that someone with ADHD bears any responsibility at all for problems at school or work; it’s stigma to speak the plain fact that people with psychotic disorders sometimes commit acts of violence under the influence of their conditions. It’s stigma, in other words, to treat those of us with mental illnesses as anything else than wayward children.

Stigma, that cartoon monster, has never been in the top 100 of my problems in 20 years of managing a psychotic disorder, but never mind; stigma is the ox to be gored in contemporary pop culture, and so we must fixate on it to the point that we sideline the health, safety and treatment of those with mental disorders.

What I find tragic about those who buy into the neurodivergence narrative is that they become their illnesses. And yes, there are alternatives. Eloise and people like her seem never to consider one of the possible ways that they could have dealt with their myriad disorders: to suffer. Only to suffer. To suffer, and to feel no pressure to make suffering an identity, to not feel compelled to wrap suffering up in an Instagram-friendly manner. To accept that there is no sense in which her pain makes her deeper or more real or more beautiful than others, that in fact the pain of mental illness reliably makes us more selfish, more self-pitying, more destructive, and more pathetic. To understand that and to accept it and to quietly go about life trying to maintain peace and dignity is, I think, the best possible path for those with mental illness to walk.

But in this culture, all must be monetised, all must be aspirational, anything can be marketed. Eloise lacks the self-awareness to ask whether there’s something exploitative and ugly about turning psychological illness into fodder for soap opera and motivational posters. Again and again in this book, Eloise gins up the kind of statement on mental health that you might find in an Instagram meme, wedges it awkwardly into some prosaic story about her youth, and then skips away. At one point she mocks “Airbnb-style Live Laugh Love signage”, and I could only think, you’re writing a book filled with it.

The most real, most human, most honest, and most humane part of Eloise’s book is something she wrote in a journal in 2009, when she was a teenager:

I fear my mind, as one single assembly by one fireman on fire safety in primary school caused this deep-seated fear. That shows the true extent of my mind’s power over me. Although these things are unlikely to happen, just yet, I fear every one of them one day. I don’t need a doctor to tell me that is a problem. But I want, so badly, to get better.

This is what it’s actually like to have a mental illness: no desire to justify or celebrate or honor the disease, only the desire to be rid of it. But the modern conception of neurodivergence (and disability activism generally) wants to have it both ways. Sometimes, people would prefer for you to think of their conditions as debilitating hindrances for which they may demand special dispensation. And sometimes they would like them to be seen as positive personality quirks that make them unique.

It is hard to witness the damage that has been done to this young woman, by a culture that insists she views her suffering as part of a beautiful journey. Today’s activists never seem to consider that there is something between terrible stigma and witless celebration, that we are not in fact bound to either ignore mental illness or treat it as an identity.

Were we wiser and more serious, we might be able to see psychiatric disorders as both natural and lamentable, as beyond the control of the individual but still within their responsibility. We would have sympathy for those who suffer from them, but recognise that sympathy only accrues to those whose conditions are unfortunate, unhealthy. We might be honest and say that, yes, it’s bad to be afflicted with psychiatric disorders.

We might, then, have the courage to say that mental illness sucks, that there’s nothing good about it, that the efforts to bend it into some superpower of greater creativity or deeper living is sour grapes from those who can’t escape. We might help people like Eloise, rather than celebrating them as self-actualised girlbosses. We might have the wisdom to ease her suffering, while we patiently tell her that there’s nothing beautiful about it.

==

Somewhere along the way we overshot “destigmatize” and ended up at “celebrate” and “reward.”

Not everything needs to be completely destigmatized.

#mental illness as identity #neurodivergent #neurodivergence #attention seeking #personal identity #personal responsibility #external locus #mental health #mental health issues #victimhood culture #victimhood #religion is a mental illness

[heirbane]

V ; MALVAZIA / ANCIENT.

⊙- Theoinus is not unknown to the Convocation. Most Ancients are seen to have a sort of role they play in Amaurotine society, whether with their own creation magicks or by tending to bureaucracy surrounding such abilities, and Theo is no different.

⊙- With their title of Dionysus, Theoinus was - for a whisper of time - almost considered as the next Azem, after Venat's retirement. Relatively young by Ancient standards, Theoinus scoured the edges of the world as Dionysus, bringing back information from the corners of existence regarding crops... most specifically, those that could be magicked into beverages.

⊙- The vast majority of the grape plants in Elpis were, in fact, brought forth by Theoinus - if not by their own magic, then by returning from their travels with seeds and starters in tow. While they cannot claim to have conceived of fermented fruits and their beverages, their tinkering with their composition was what lead to their prevalence in Amaurotine society. The drink, among Ancients, was believed to open the mind and relax the soul... to a detriment, if the user overindulged.

⊙- It was not until the End of the Ancient world, when the shards of existence came into play, that the concept of alcoholism and overindulgence came to be. Fermented beverages were of no long-term consequence to Ancients: it is their lesser, partial selves that suffer.

⊙- ... and some of the creations in Elpis, unfortunately. Not all are created equal, and Theoinus has caused the undoing of more than one of Hermes' beings. (Many of his grape vines had to be replanted to a specific, unpopulated island of Elpis, lest any more of Hermes' creatures eat them and become deathly ill.)

⊙- As mentioned above, Theo was... almost, kind of, not really considered for Azem. If the being's intoxicated adventures were harmless and did not impact the neighboring beings in their society, maybe Theoinus would have been in the running longer. Unfortunately, Theo is a menace and partakes in a lot of their own drink.

⊙- Theoinus is... quite popular. They are not often in Amaurot, due to their travels, but make their presence loud and clear when they are: always happy to share their newest brews and drink concepts, tales of their travels and the brash fights they get into while relaxed.

⊙- Theoinus is never at their own parties. If one is to come early, they may see them being a wallflower... but often times, Theoinus is not afoot - not unless they are in their cups. It is only after several drinks that they bloom, their boisterous attitude and fleet feet coming out loud and clear.

⊙- (Usually, however, Theoinus is holed away in a bedroom, dancing to dulled, muffled music on their own... or already on the road to make a name for themselves in another place.)

⊙- Theoinus is what Eorzeans would call a dancer. While not blessed with the strongest aethersight or creation magicks, Theoinus is easily able to turn any movement into a graceful, floral thing. They do technically subclass as bard, but only due to their ease of words and rhymes: they will never be caught with an instrument, as that is not their forte. They do, however, memorize beat and music quite easily, and struggle to forget a tune once heard.

⊙- Theo is a they/them at heart, but doesn't mind being dubbed he when referred to by his title, Dionysus, or from strangers in other parts of the world.

(and, for my own reference for art later - pine green hair, dark skin, burgundy eyes.)

#ⅩⅣ - v ; malvazia ( ancient. ) #6.0 spoilers #alcohol tw #playing a little loosy goosy w/ the lore here since. we know the seats of the convo are inherited/voted in #but not a lot has been shown to us about how or why? just that [redacted] was nominated for A Seat and kept turning it down #so. i rEALLY LIKE THE IDEA... OF AN.CIENT G.AIUS. ALMOST BEING A.ZEM? #BECAUSE TO THE G.ARLEANS HE KIND OF /IS/ THEIR A.ZEM? #he travels!!! he's gone around the world!!! in THEIR eyes HE is right and whole #so. yes! unfortunately his folly got the best of him #im sorry. them. them! them #also had to mention h.ermes since That Dude is in d.ionysus' mythology a lot #goofy dude gets run out of other being's societies bc they pick fights and bring alcohol to the populous. the end

[kylejsugarman]

fuck it. little bit of ayuluk family history and background. demi's dad, sam henry ayuluk, was a truck driver who was raised by a conservative yupik family trying to fully integrate into western culture. her mom, josephine, was a elementary school teacher; her family was more in touch with their native culture, so they are all fluent in central alaskan yup'ik and josephine taught her three children to speak it. the two married in their thirties (sam henry had previously been married and divorced), and their first child was samantha. four years later, they had demi; five years after that, they had their only boy, mason. sam henry was an alcoholic and eventually a coke addict to stay awake during long drives, and was verbally and physically abusive towards his family. from a young age, demi voluntarily singled herself out for abuse to keep her mom safe, as he was particularly violent towards her; she did the same for mason when he was born. sam henry died of cirrhosis when demi was 16. shortly after his death, samantha was in a car wreck on her way home from a party and broke her leg and several ribs, for which she was prescribed hydrocodone. her genetic predisposition for addiction and the incredibly stressful, traumatic environment that she grew up in caused samantha to develop a severe opioid addiction. when samantha was 22, she was impregnated by a fellow user and friend: she wasn't able to access abortion care, so she tried her best to quit cold turkey until she gave birth to a little girl that she named baby. meanwhile, demi started attending university of alaska fairbanks when she was 17 on a full ride scholarship, where she obtained her undergraduate degree and immediately entered their department of veterinary medicine as a doctoral candidate. demi graduated with her doctoral degree when she was 24, shortly after which she returned home to haines because her mother was suffering with metastasized breast cancer (mason dropped out of high school at age 17 to take care of her) and her sister was in need of help for her addiction. just a few weeks after demi came back home, samantha overdosed in the family home and died; a four-year-old baby found her body. josephine died of cancer two months later. as baby's godmother, demi assumed custody of her and started living in the family home with her and mason while she tried to establish a sustainable veterinary practice from the underfunded kennel in town. at age 26, demi is getting her practice off the ground and still living in her old house with baby and mason, which is the age at which she meets jesse

#syd squeaks #im so fucking sorry. this is mostly for myself (as if its not entirely for myself because no one asked) #I have everyone here....the whole gang #demi ayuluk #baby ayuluk #mason ayuluk #samantha ayuluk #josephine ayuluk #sam henry ayuluk #jesse pinkman

[medicus-felini]

HC post nobody asked for, but I am delivering anyway.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ────── {.⋅ ⚕ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

• Linn is farsighted. She needs glasses for reading or any work that has to get done up close, such as stitching smaller wounds.

• She is a smoker. The habit started in the first few months after joining the Kid Pirates. Mostly out of stress. The crew thinks it looks cool.

• Like every mink raised on Zou, Linn refuses to eat meat from anything with fur. Fish dishes are her favorites.

• Her sulong form is not very well-trained, since she was never a fighter. She will most likely attack allies on the battlefield if they are too close, therefore hurting herself in the process. (The little Sulong event I have going on Tumblr is an exception and not canon.)

• Her favorite drink is raspberry fassbrause and her favorite alcoholic drink is herbal liqueur.

• Yes, the coke jar is canon.

• Linn is trying hard to wrap her head around the side effects of the SMILE fruits. Since she witnessed Killer's change in emotion in Wano Kuni firsthand, she really wants to help him and maybe other people who suffer from the effects. That is her biggest goal so far, to find some type of 'cure' for it.

• She would refuse to get devil powers. Her self-confidence is way too low, and she also could not help her devil power user crew mates if they fell into the water :(. Just not worth it.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⊱ ────── {.⋅ ⚕ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

#⚕ ⦅ Deep in thoughts. ⦆⠀⠀/ hc .