#'why do you have money anxiety' well it feels like i never save money because i'm always skint broke three days before payday and i never

[kangaracharacha]

.

[rogueddie]

It takes Steve an embarassingly long moment to realise that the spray isn't doing anything. He tries shaking it… nothing. He even checks by spraying it on his hand, shaking it again. Nothing.

He tries listening as he shakes it again and, though he's sure there's some product still left inside, nothing will come out.

He reluctantly throws it in the little trash can, just next to the toilet door. He doesn't bother rooting through the draws or cabinets either; he'd used the last of his emergency powder kit yesterday. There's nothing left.

He huffs, folding his arms, glaring at his reflection. Specifically at the very overgrown, bright blond roots of his hair.

It brings up the same anxiety he's been having for the past month. It's taken him a long time to save up for his usual hairdressers. He hadn't thought it would take so long but, with the kids and now Robin and Eddie, it shouldn't be that surprising.

Robin often pays a good chunk for things too, often paying him gas money, but it's usually him paying for everything. And now that he's paying rent in his own little appartment? He's not often left with that much at the end of the month.

He's starting to think it's not worth the trip. But he isn't going to start using box dye or anything cheap. He's spent a long time taking care of his hair, spent just as long struggling to find the right products too.

He doesn't even care that the kids and Robin mock him for it, he has great hair and, screw it, he's proud. He's not going to damage it by getting bad hair dye.

He's already booked his next hairdresser appointment for the next day, already saved up gas money too. He might as well ask for bleach instead, go back to his natural color and save himself from anymore days with overgrown roots.

He almost regrets the idea when he gets to work.

"Holy shit, you're a natural blond?" Robins grin looks almost painful with how wide it is. She's a little too excited for his comfort. "I don't know how I didn't guess before. This explains so much. How have you kept this hidden for so long? It's so light!"

"Don't you have work to do?" He bats her hand away when she, again, reaches for his hair.

"Not anymore. Why do you dye it? How did it grow out so much? When did you start hiding it? Did someone pressure you into it? They didn't make fun of you, did they? Because I will hunt them down and-"

"No one made me dye it or bullied me into it," he huffs. He can feel his attempt at a cool demeaner soften with how quickly she jumps to his defense. "I just... I never liked it. I don't think it suits me. Brunettes are cute."

"Are you dyeing it again?"

"Probably not. The hairdresser I go to isn't exactly cheap."

"You can get box dye at-"

"I'm not using box dye."

"It's not that bad, and if you really hate the blond-"

Steve swats at her when she reaches for his hair again. With a heavy sigh, he braces himself for the shift full of questions and jokes of 'betrayal'.

Like he suspected, they don't get much work done.

When Eddie comes in, towards the end of their shift, Steve is almost relieved.

"Stop bullying him without me," Eddie complains.

"Thank you," Steve says, whilst Robin boos. "What is it tonight? Movie night with Wayne or some of the kids?"

But Eddie is frozen, staring at his hair.

"I think he's broken," Robin says after a pause.

"You're blond?" Eddie blinks. "When did you go blond?"

"Always have been," Steve shrugs. "Just... not dyeing it anymore."

"Oh."

Steve and Robin stare at him. They share a glance after a moment.

"You here for a movie?" Steve asks.

"What? Me? No, I- just stopping by. And you're... yeah. I'm gonna- I've got to go. Wayne is waiting and... you know. Bye."

He turns around and practically runs out the store. His wheels squeal a little as he drives out, most likely breaking the speed limit.

"Did he just..." Robin starts, trailing off with a frown.

"Unbelievable," Steve shakes his head. "Just when I give up, he realizes that he likes me too! What the hell, Bob. Is he only into blonds or something?"

[senmiyaazx]

12 months and 365 days

Crowe x GN!Reader

context: memories of your first year spent in loneliness, and memories of your second year spent with crowe. (aka how you met crowe)

cw: a little self indulgent. mentions of bullying. self deprecating and social anxiety.

word count: 1673

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

It's your first day.

You're very nervous.

Of course, you finished high school before. But college was different.

And you didn't have anyone you knew here.

It's okay. You reassure yourself. You just gotta save up enough money to pay the debt, make a few friends and graduate. It's easy enough, right?

It's... your third day.

You haven't talked to anyone yet.

It's alright. It's only your third day.

You'll be fine.

Besides, there's this cool person you've been sneaking glances at lately. Hopefully you'll build up enough courage to talk to them!

Something gnaws at your nerves.

It's been two weeks.

Two weeks since you came to this city.

Two weeks spent alone at a table in a busy cafeteria. Two weeks of sitting in the corner of the classroom as if you don't exist.

It'll be fine. You can get by with no friends. You just have to pay the debt, and you'll be back home like nothing ever happened.

It's fine.

Three weeks.

You're paired up with someone for a group project.

They're nice. Really nice.

You found out you share a lot of common interests.

They ask to be friends. You accept.

You're really happy.

1 month.

Oh.

They've forgotten about you.

It's okay. You expected it so it didn't hurt much.

It seems they already had an existing friendgroup before you.

It's not your place to be upset. You were strangers after all.

It's okay. Just focus on your job. You'll be home soon.

Five months.

Why don't they ask you for a pen? You're right here.

You have complete school supplies. You always take notes in class.

The person in front of you asks your seatmate for a paper. They don't have one.

You did.

Why don't they ask you?

Why don't you talk to them?

You can't. Because you're too anxious. Scared.

Fear of getting judged.

It's frustrating.

College isn't so fun when you're doing it to save your only home. When you have no friends.

Seven months.

You've gotten used to it.

Sure, you can talk to your group mates just fine. Act friendly and all that stuff. But it never lasted long. Nothing ever did.

It's nothing too concerning now. You accepted the fact you were too much of a coward to just talk and reach out to someone. You're an outcast, and it'll stay that way forever.

Even if your inner self begged to be able to rant about your interests, your hobbies, your troubles.

Two more years of this hell.

Before you knew it, you're in your second year.

First day.

Nothing unusual. You're still alone.

It's boring.

Four more hours till you go home.

Second day.

There's this guy who introduced himself to you.

He seems friendly.

He told you his name, but you forgot. Oh well, it's not important.

Not like you two will be close anyway.

One week.

He keeps talking to you.

You learned his name now. Crowe.

You weren't exactly a jerk either, and it was rude to show your obvious disinterest in someone, so you tried your best to put on a smile as you listened to him.

It's awkward. He's aware of the tension in the air.

You feel bad, but it's okay. Give it a week and he'll move on.

Three weeks.

He. Won't. Leave. You. Alone.

What's wrong with this guy? He keeps acting all buddy with you.

You don't know him. He doesn't know you.

It annoys you how he acts like he does. How friendly he is with you.

You're sure he has some sort of ulterior motive.

Ah, whatever. It's not good to assume. At least you have someone sitting with you at lunch. Even if you're a little irritated.

Four weeks.

You volunteered to be a helper at the school gardens. It's good. Extra credits and a place for you to hang out. Alone.

Now you no longer have to be in the cafeteria.

Five weeks.

He found out about the garden. Keeps pestering you about it.

"Can I join? Can I help? I wanna see! Let's eat lunch there together!" He says.

It's.. so annoying. But you felt bad for him, so you accepted. Grudgingly.

Now you have someone pestering you in your comfort spot. Great.

He tells you he didn't expect you to be interested in gardening. You told him you lived on a farm. He's curious, but you refuse to tell more.

It'll be a waste of time if he'll forget about you in the end anyways.

Two months.

He's still there. He's weirdly persistent on being your friend.

You're starting to doubt yourself now. Had you judged him too much?

Still, it's hard to act friendly now when you've spent an entire year being ignored by everyone on the campus despite your attempts to communicate.

He doesn't seem to mind. You feel weird.

For once, you allow yourself to soften a little around him.

Three months.

It's been a terrible week. Burnout has caught up to you. You're in an incredibly tight budget and you're nowhere near halfway to your debt.

Is there really hope for you? Your father?

Right. You're doing this for dad. The farm.

You can't give up now that you've come so far, yet...

The frustration and stress is too much. He noticed this, of course. He's always so observant when it came to you. Noticing all the little changes and details that nobody else did. Not that anyone else paid much mind to you in the first place.

Still. It's weird. It makes you feel overwhelmed and a little overstimulated.

And it's because of the stress, you think. It's the stress and anxiety that you've been bottling up for years— and ended up lashing out on him.

He's hurt. You know it. You feel incredibly guilty.

You fucked up, didn't you? You always did. Now you lost the only person who actually liked you.

It's all your fault.

Three months and two weeks.

You haven't talked to him since then, despite his attempts to reach you.

You're the first to leave when the bell rings. You lock yourself up in the garden when it's lunchbreak. You dash out the school gates when it's time to go home.

You've seen the way he looks at you. Worry and pain plastered all over his face. It makes your stomach twist. You're guilty. You're aware of how much of a jerk you're being.

But you have no choice. After all, you were born to be lonely.

I'm sorry, Crowe.

Six months.

It's been so long. You're sure he's forgotten about you. Like you expected. It hurts, yet you ignore the pain.

One day, however, you're cornered.

You've always been an outcast. One that's genuinely forgotten by everyone.

Unlucky as you were, you never had to experience bullies in your life.

And now..

One of them pushes your bruised body to the ground. You shake. They laugh at you. Fuck people and their greed for superiority.

You hate it. Hate this. Hate yourself. Why can't you just get up and fight back? Are you really going to let them step over you like this when you're already miserable enough?

C'mon. Get up. Stand up!

Someone yells from a distance. That voice, all too familiar. One that makes your heart drop.

"Crowe?"

It all becomes a blur. You're on the ground, frozen in fear as you watched Crowe take the hits for you. Defending you as if you've known each other for years.

Why? Why would he do this? You don't understand. You don't understand him.

It's so damn annoying.

Slowly, you stand up. There's a rock nearby. You grab it.

And throw it against the bastard's head as hard as you can.

He passes out. His other goons turn around to face you with a murderous glare, and you tremble as they approach.

"One more step and I'll scream so loud everyone will think you're a serial killer." It's a stupid threat. You have no guarantee it'll work.

To your luck, it does. They turn away with a 'tsk' as they pick their friend up. It seems they don't want to cause any more trouble than they already did. Hypocrites.

You immediately turn to face Crowe with a harsh glare, striding towards him despite the pain in your body.

You grab him by the collar, bringing him close to your face as you yelled, confusion and pain evident in your voice. Desperation. "Are you stupid? Why the hell did you do that?! There's literally no reason for you to defend me, so why?!" You shake him back and forth. You shouldn't be doing this. Shouldn't be angry at him when he helped you.

You're just.. so damn lost.

He doesn't mind the way you take your anger out on him when he should. He should be annoyed with you. He should be as mad as you for getting angry when he's the one who helped you.

Instead, he laughs. He fucking laughs.

"Because you're my friend!" He grins stupidly, and you have half a mind to punch him the way those bullies did.

You don't. Instead, you let him go as you felt warmth rush to your cheeks and all over your body. Till your heart aches and leaves a stinging pain in your chest. Till the tips of your fingers tingle and leave your palms sweaty. Till your knees feel weak and you sit down on the ground with your head held in your hands.

"You're.. so annoying, you know that? You're fucking insane." Your voice was shaky. Yet you couldn't help the smile that crept up to your lips.

He stayed. He didn't forget about you.

You have a friend. His name is Jericho Ichabod.

Three years — present.

You're in the greenhouse. Brittney and the others are somewhere in the garden, doing their own thing. You're glad they're enjoying this little space of yours.

Crowe's saying something about flowers. You don't listen much, simply staring at him as you nod and smile.

You have a crush. His name is Jericho Ichabod.

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁༉‧₊˚.

a/n: i've had this on my mind since the update. unfortunately I don't have any ideas for a sol fic yet:(

[mysticheathenn]

Messages From Your Mental Prison

Hi, Hexlings!

This pick-a-card reading is about your mental health and the state of how you view the world and everything that is going on in your life. This could be about your depression, Anxiety, or even suicidal thoughts. Read with caution as this reading may have triggers.

This is a general reading, remember to take what resonates and leave what does not. This reading does not supplement your need to seek professional help. Tarot should be used as entertainment and not a for sure answer to your problems but as a guide, a sense of hope, and amusement.

Take your time when choosing your pile. Ask yourself the question and choose the picture that you can’t stop looking at. Listen to your intuition.

MasterList

Patreon Link

TW Ahead Read With Caution

Pile l:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: 8 of Pentacles (Reversed), 9 of Swords, 4 of Swords (reversed), 10 of Cups (reversed), Justice

This reminds me of the TikTok clip of the voice screaming "It's not fair. It's not fair." reminding me of how many people have probably told you that you handle stress and everyday life so well but little do they know your mental state is literally one inconvenience away from having a mental breakdown. Stress and anxiety practically camp out in your mind on a daily basis pile l. You can't seem to escape it, it's all you have known for quite a while and you're tired. There is a saying that "There is no sleep for the wicked" Well in your case "There is no sleep for the poor or those who lack the resources to pull themselves up in their life." All you want in life is enough to pay your bills and a little extra for savings and be able to do something with your life like try a new hobby without feeling guilty for spending money that isn't on "important" things like survival. You probably have been in survival mode for quite some time now and wondering when will you see a breakthrough. You're tired of being tired. You're tired of practically playing Russian roulette with your bills of which one can you not pay for this month. One thing I will say pile l is even though things may seem bleak please don't give up, I sense things will get better financially for you. Sometimes in life you just need to find your footing for things to take off.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Seek out information that will help you out, A Journey either physical or mental, unsettled times. Need to plan ahead, Announcement, Get back to the basics.

Pile l your extra message oracles make me believe that you feel lost, maybe even stuck for some of you with no clue in the world of how to better your situation or go about life. You have the get back to the basics card which sticks out to me like a sore thumb letting the game know that I sense you may be the type who always tries to do those get-rich-and-quick schemes like drop shipping or anything else you see that pops up on your social media feed and it never works out for whatever reason. You want to know why....it's because you aren't supposed to be doing that. That's not your path to riches. You have the 8 of Pentacles and 10 of Cups card but it's reversed meaning you are meant to have emotional and financial fulfillment you just need to stop and get back to the basics. What basics mystic? What is it that has been drawing or calling you in? What is something you keep putting off or not doing because you believe based on society and family it won't make you any money? For most of you, this is what you need to be doing. For others of you, you will be going on a journey where you need to find this out. Figure out what feeds your soul that you would do for free and do that but add tax. You are meant to freelance and be your own boss, not working for other people. Overall this is a journey process for you pile l. You will deal with more hard times as you figure this out but remember this journey is temporary to where you want to be, so keep pushing. An answer if it hasn't already will come to you.

Pile ll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Hermit, Page of Swords (reversed), Queen of Cups, 10 of Wands, 10 of Swords (reversed)

When was the last time you nurtured yourself or spent time alone and really tried to heal and nurture yourself with positive thoughts pile ll. It's a never-ending cycle of you constantly bombarding yourself with cruel words that aren't true. This reminds me slightly of the reading I posted titled Mystery pt. ll. But overall this feeling of yours feels more so as if the world has its weight on your shoulders and you feel as if you are a burden to those around you. You may live at home, with roommates, or feel that you constantly are asking anyone and everyone around you for help as if you can't do anything for yourself and you're tired. You're ready to be able to be independent without having to rely on others. Maybe others have made you feel bad as well for asking for help when you are down on your luck to where you just feel crushed, stuck, unable to move in a direction because one way people will make you feel bad for your predicament and the other hand you will make yourself feel bad because you feel whatever this is you should be able to do by yourself but can't because life is tough right now. As I mentioned in pile l you need to get back to the basics. Get back to the basics of life and take things one step at a time. You are doing the best you can with what you have and don't let anyone make you feel bad about that.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Position of authority, August, Someone you know is undependable and insincere, Slowly but surely getting ahead. Pay attention to your work, Good Fortune.

As mentioned your life while it maybe chaotic at the moment everything is a journey and slowly but surely things will get better and you will get ahead eventually. With the Position of authority I am seeing this in two ways some of you should pay attention to your work as there may be a position available for you in management where you can make more money this may happen around or sometime in August. If not within the company you work maybe this is an invitation to be your own boss or look elsewhere for higher positions especially if you have more than enough qualifications. For others of you, this position of authority is letting you know that you are the boss of your own life and have complete control of what goes on and who is in it. Never let people who claim to be friends or family make you feel bad for being on hard times. They aren't who they say they are and you should move accordingly with that information. Overall Good Fortune is in your cards by the end of this rough patch. You just need to focus and hone in on ways you can do more within your life with the resources of which you have. Again this could be moving up in the company or going elsewhere, where advancement is an option.

Pile lll:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Star, The Sun, Ace of Pentacles (reversed), The Fool (reversed), Awakening

Pile lll, my babies, it's time to allow yourself to be seen by the world. It's time to stop hiding in the shadows allowing life to pass you by. You can't keep yourself in the mental prison of feelings of imposter syndrome, fear of judgment, etc. Life wants to give you financial blessings, especially with the Ace of Pentacles in Reversed but you are blocking them because you aren't doing what needs to be done. This could be you starting a YouTube channel, being a content creator on social media, writing a book or screenplay/ maybe even fanfiction for some of you, others this might just be you hiding from a promotion that you deeply desire but feel you lack experience, knowledge, etc. Whatever this is for you, you have to release the thoughts that plague your mind and go for the thing that puts you in front of everyone. Yes at first you may make mistakes or look cringe or whatever the issue may be but that's how everything is when you first jump deep into something. You make mistakes and people will talk...but you want to know something life moves on and the world doesn't end. Seriously do the thing, it's time. You will beat yourself up if others take the things that you want for yourself and you want to know something you have no one to blame but yourself because you decided to not do what needs to be done. Write the book. Film yourself. Apply for better jobs even if you think you are not qualified. Have you heard of the girl who applied to jobs she had no business doing and ended up getting hired making $100k a year...that could be you right now but you are stuck listening to self-doubt and the thoughts of what others will say. Storytime: I knew that I didn't want to continue working at whatever job I was working at back in 2015 so when my friend and I figured out that employers don't check a lot of your information we applied for positions that would pay us well and you want to know something the resume I lied on got me so far in life to where I was Assistant GM of hotels at one point. All because I believed I could do what others were doing in the hotel industry even without a lick of experience. Did I mess up in the beginning, yes. Did I care...no because I was doing more good than harm so no one really questioned if I lied or not. You have to take the jump. Do the thing.

Extra Messages: Tea Tree Leaf Oracle: Short Journey, Back to Basics, Work achievement & success, TIME TO ACT, Someone is extremely stubborn and unwilling to change, Protected from negative forces beyond your control, Solid foundation success with effort, waiting for news package or letter, A meeting with a strange could be important.

Pile lll do you see the amount of synchronicities in your oracle reading. Spirit is coming through loud and clear that you need to get out of your stubbornness and began acting on your dreams, goals, and desires. You are protected from anything that could try and take what this is away from you. Even with a solid foundation success with effort is telling you "Hey if you do the thing you will not fail because you are protected." Now this goes without saying that you won't deal with some challenges because that's life what it is saying is you will come out on top and the journey for you won't be a long one if you just do the effort that it takes. Spirit will do the rest if you just do what needs to be done.

Pile lV:

Messages From Your Mental Prison. Tarot: The Empress, Queen of Pentacles, 5 of Swords (reversed), 8 of Swords (reversed), 6 of Wands

You are victorious pile lV your only problem is that you don't believe you are worth a pot to piss in a lot of the time. Even with the Empress and Queen of Pentacles card here letting me know how nurturing, giving, empathetic, and even resourceful you are you don't see any good things about yourself. You remind me of people who speak negatively about themselves not knowing that their actions speak the opposite. You can't say you don't care but your actions speak another language. You can't put yourself down but then be upset when life mirrors your thoughts. Deep down you know how amazing you are and the many great things that you can do, but for some strange reason you recently for some of you while others of you this has been going on for a while where you constantly hold yourself to such a low standard and critic everything that you do. Why is that? Where did it begin? How can you remove this person or thing that made you feel this way? For some of you, this may have been a relationship (platonic, romantic, or familial) that made you feel self-critical of yourself because they felt something about themselves. You must remember that when people speak unkind things to you that it's a reflection of themselves and not you. You don't have to take what others think of you and run with it as if they are true because they are not. A scene that comes to mind is when the mom in Black Swan says "What happened to my little girl?" What happened to you that made you feel and think these thoughts to yourself and how can you get back to the Empress and Queen of Pentacle energy.

Extra Messages: Manifestation Oracle Cards: Wellbeing, Empowerment, Strength

How can you today give yourself the love that you deserve? Is it a DIY spa day? A trip to a therapist or talk with a trusted friend? How can you show up for yourself in ways that you haven't before that will make you see the person you are? Have the strength and courage to stand up to anyone who makes you feel any less than what and who you are. For a few of you, you may be a part of the LBGTQ+ community and others around you have made you feel different, a "freak" or whatever insecurity that you question your existence. There is a quote by Elenor Roosevelt that says "No one can make you feel inferior without your permission." Please don't let assholes who were raised by baboons let you lower yourself or feel anything less than amazing, beautiful, and authentically you. Regardless of how you feel about yourself find something in your life, day, or something as small as a freckle on your face that you love and keep bringing more of that energy in for you and keep your head up. This feeling is only temporary, things will get better.

Thank you for liking and reblogging my readings. I always appreciate you guys on here and on Patreon.

Stay safe and be blessed

[doodlegirl1998]

What do you think when people say that shoya (from a silent voice) and bakugo are pretty similar because I genuinely hate when people say that and I don't think that they are similar but for some reason I don't know how to articulate that

Hi @bibibbon 👋,

I genuinely hate it when people compare Shoya and Bakugou as well. I'll tell you why I dislike this comparison, so I hope this helps you articulate your own thoughts on this.

The only way I feel they are similar is that in their respective narratives, they are both "redeemed bullies." However, Silent Voice does Shoya's redemption well, MHA does Bakugou's poorly.

Silent Voice has Shoya experience conscequence for him leading the bullying and discrimination of Shouko for her deafness, becoming the victim of bullying himself ironically for his role (and everyone else pinning the sole blame on him) of bullying Shouko.

Shoya experiences his own mental health challenges (Depression, social anxiety , and brief suicidal ideation) as a result, loses his old friends, and goes through the effort of learning sign language and reconnects with Shouko.

Shoya also has people (Shouko's sister and mother) who are genuinely and rightfully wary or downright hateful of him for the majority of the story (and rightfully so.)

An aside - Shoya is shown to love and care for his mother. He is deeply guilty for putting his mother in financial trouble by breaking Shouko's hearing aids. He earns money, and one of the beginning scenes of the movie of a Silent Voice is him paying her back before he intends to commit suicide.

Aside 2 - Shouko's pain is also focused on by the narrative. She tries to commit suicide at one point (thankfully, Shoya saves her.) And she is allowed to be deeply upset, snap at, and fight back against Shoya when he is being so cruel to her. It is also shown in the manga that her dad left due to her deafness being discovered, leaving her mother to raise Shouko and her sister alone.

By contrast...

Bakugou is always well loved, by all, despite his constant screaming, despite his verbally, physically and emotionally abusive tendencies to everyone around him.

Bakugou is never fully 'outed' as a bully or experience any form of social ostracisation for his treatment of Izuku. In fact, this is ignored by 1A. (While Shoya's new friend Tomohiro is allowed to experience upset and disbelief at the thought of Shoya having once bullied someone for being deaf in the past - 1A is silent about Bakugou exploding Izuku and calling him useless constantly instead of his name.)

Bakugou does experience mental health challenges - however, this is completely separate to Izuku and his treatment of him - in the form of his kidnapping by the LOV, All Might losing his quirk and dying at the hand of ShigAFO. But it feels like he hardly grew at all... "Will I catch up to you, Izuku?" Along with the card memory feels unearned when you remember that apart from this, for over a decade Bakugou has been beating Izuku down constantly, exploding him, destroying his things and calling him useless (Deku) instead of his name. (Perhaps to ensure that Izuku stays a pebble in his path, stays beneath him, rather than overtaking him.)

Side note - when Bakugou remembers his past, he remembers Izuku offering to help him up, he remembers briefly him exploding Izuku and Izuku chasing after him. Rather than the full nasty extent of the bullying.

Bakugou has people that dislike him, but they are few and far between (Monoma, Present Mic, Tokoyami, Sato) but in the narrative they are always portrayed as wrong.

Bakugou is shown to be abrasive to all of those in his inner circle. His moments of 'softness' are few and far between, seemingly OOC before abrasive bastard Bakugou takes centre stage again. (There's no soft moments like there are between Shoya and his mother or Shoya and Shouko or Shoya and Tomohiro.)

Furthermore, Izuku's pain and thoughts on his own discrimination after some time vanish from the narrative. Nonsensically, throughout the story, he loves Bakugou and seemingly worships the ground he walks on. Bar, one moment in the beginning, Izuku is never fully allowed to stand up to Bakugou or (rightfully) think negatively of him. After some time, Izuku focus and internal voice in MHA just disappears. Izuku's dad is nowhere to be seen, and (unlike Shouko) we get no canon explanation for this. He's just not there.

TLDR - In a Silent Voice, Shoya is redeemed well. He saves Shouko from her suicide attempt, nearly dies in the process, and makes an effort to become her friend and learn sign language for her. He also experiences consequences for his discrimination of Shouko. In the narrative, he shares narrative focus with Shouko, so them becoming an item at the end feels earned.

In MHA, Bakugou is 'redeemed' poorly. His focus when he saved Izuku was about saving OFA. All of the effort in Bakugou and Izuku becoming "friends" is made to be carried by Izuku (Bakugou's victim.) He experiences no concequence of acting like a bratty spoilt child to everyone at UA and still treating Izuku like the dirt under his shoe. In the narrative, Bakugou overshadows Izuku’s focus so much that Bakugou is treated more as an MC and Izuku (sadly) we feel more distant from as a result. Bakugou and Izuku's "friendship" feels abusive and unearned, and I wish they were permanently separated.

[bitchesgetriches]

Bitches I need some advice.

I'm fat, okay? I'm not ashamed about it. It just... Is. I'm fat.

Being fat is also fucking me up. It's causing me sleep problems, it's fucking my joints, I can't walk as far as I used to, I haven't run in years.

I want to lose weight. Not for anyone else. For me. I want to be fit again.

I'm surrounded by people telling me I'm "not fat" and need to "love myself like I am". I'm 210lb and 5'3". Ya girl is fat. And I'm okay with that it's not a bad word. I love myself. But I also love the things I used to be able to do when I was fitter. It's just really fucking hard.

I've got zero support left and right. And I don't know what to do. I know this isn't your area of expertise, but you're such great internet mamas that maybe you can help.

My darling child, we are SO humbled that you came to us with this. And while this isn't an area of our OFFICIAL expertise... weight and athleticism is something that I, Piggy, personally think a lot about! So let me see if I can offer some support to you, my beloved fat child.

By way of background: I have never been fat. Heavier than I want currently, but not fat. So I don't completely understand what you're going through. I have always been an athlete of one sort or the other. But more than that, I have always had the privilege of being relatively skinny without trying. At peak fitness I was running and rock climbing and doing all the stretchy and weight-trainy stuff. I was 5'5" and 130 lbs of jacked Bitch.

I am also a proud Italian American woman, which means that after 30 genetics decreed that I start putting on weight and rounding out and coming into my full Zia-ness. I'm currently 155 lbs. and running/climbing/stretching/jumping about/weight training is getting harder and harder. And that's frustrating to me.

Fat is not a bad word, merely a descriptor. So I'mma use it just as you have! I'm proud that you are prioritizing your health and ability to do what you love over losing weight for the sake of just being smaller. Because let's be clear: weight and health do not necessarily go hand in hand. If your goal is to improve your sleep quality, energy levels, and joint pain, then you should focus on activities that will work directly on those issues. Maybe that'll lead to weight loss--maybe not!

A lot of the medical establishment is cruel to fat people, so I'd be cautious about approaching this with your doctor. But you SHOULD get medical guidance before embarking on any kind of physical change. If your doctor says "Well, just lose weight through diet and exercise!" then you might want to look for a new doctor. If they instead offer practical solutions for incremental improvement, then great.

One of my favorite athletes is The Mirnavator. She's a fat marathon runner and offers a lot of information on how to start walking more and running as a fat person. I think she'll be a good role model for you as she focuses a lot on energy and joint health.

Also, you should check out Aubrey Gordon's blog Your Fat Friend and her podcast with Michael Hobbes, Maintenance Phase. She's also got some great books out! She's a fat expert on weight loss and diet culture. And her insights into healthy nutrition and body image are amazing. Her data-based approach will help you avoid the extreme dieting and weight loss trends that can hurt your health. Plus she's funny as fuck.

Lastly I will just say that mental health is tied to physical health. You're bummed about not doing the things you use to be able to do... and that probably makes it a lot harder to change! Acknowledge any depression or anxiety you feel about being fat and give yourself compassion. Start small and do what feels good.

Now here are two VERY old articles I wrote when I knew less about fatness. I think they still have a little bit to offer, though:

Why You Probably Don't Need That Gym Membership

Run With Me if You Want to Save: How Exercising Will Save You Money 

Any fat members of Bitch Nation who want to weigh in? Uh... pun not intended.

[honeyjars-sims]

Chapter 3 Prologue: This Must Be the Place

Johnny’s eyes were fixed on the mirror as he clumsily attempted to knot his tie. “Ugh, I can't get this right,” he mumbled.

"Let me help.” Solomon took the ends of the tie from his son's trembling hands.

“Feeling nervous?”

“A little,” Johnny admitted. “I don’t know why, though.” The feeling was more similar to excitement than anxiety but he was still surprised at how jittery he was. “It’s a big day!” David interjected. “I think everyone gets a bit nervous when they get married.” “I know I was a mess!” Solomon laughed at the memory. “Remember how I could barely get any words out during our vows?”

“I do." David placed his hand on Solomon's cheek. “You were so cute.” “Well that makes me feel better.” Johnny was relieved to know he wasn’t alone in having pre-wedding jitters. “You have nothing to worry about, son." Solomon smiled. “You’re about to marry the love of your life.”

“Everyone decent?” Chantal’s head appeared around the door frame, her hand shielding her face. “As decent as we can be! Johnny replied. “I was told to give you this." Chantal handed him a letter.

“Who’s it from?” Chantal rolled her eyes. "The President." “Oh, great, I was hoping he'd get back to me.” Johnny recognized the print on the envelope as the same one used for the wedding invitations, which he knew wasn't by accident.

He and [redacted] had squabbled over which design to go with for weeks before Johnny finally relented. "Fine, you can have your boring-ass white invitations if you want them that bad!" He'd yelled, and after a few seconds of silence they'd both dissolved into fits of laughter. Who could have imagined he'd be so passionate about stationary of all things? It was such a silly disagreement that it became a recurring joke anytime they had a difference of opinion during wedding planning.

“We’ll give you a moment,” Solomon told Johnny as he and the others exited the room. Johnny began reading the letter:

John, my love, Words can’t express how excited I am that today is our wedding day. When we first met I never would have imagined that we'd end up here, but now I can't picture anyone I'd rather have standing by my side. We've both grown so much since then and I know it's because we bring out the best in each other. There's so much more I want to tell you, but I'm saving it for my vows. I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to use this envelope one last time! With all my love, [redacted]

“Johnny.” Solomon leaned against the door frame. “It’s time.” As Johnny made his way to the ceremony, he couldn’t help but think back to how it all began. How he had gone from one of the lowest points in his life to the highest in what seemed like such a short amount of time.

He wasn’t the same man today as he’d been back then, but he was grateful for where the journey started. He didn’t know it then, but all of that pain led him right here where he needed to be.

To the one he was meant to be with.

Previous | Beginning of story | Beginning of chapter | Next

This Must be the Place (Naive Melody)--The Talking Heads

Home is where I want to be Pick me up and turn me round I feel numb, born with a weak heart I guess I must be having fun

The less we say about it the better Make it up as we go along Feet on the ground, head in the sky It's okay, I know nothing's wrong, nothing

Hi yo, I got plenty of time Hi yo, you got light in your eyes And you're standing here beside me I love the passing of time

Never for money, always for love Cover us and say goodnight Say goodnight

Home is where I want to be But I guess I'm already there I come home, she lifted up her wings I guess that this must be the place

I can't tell one from another Did I find you, or you find me? There was a time before we were born If someone asks, this where I'll be, where I'll be

Hi yo, we drift in and out Hi yo, sing into my mouth Out of all those kinds of people You got a face with a view

I'm just an animal looking for a home, and Share the same space for a minute or two And you love me 'til my heart stops Love me 'til I'm dead Eyes that light up, eyes look through you Cover up the blank spots Hit me on the head

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly I think people on here really greatly under acknowledge and recognize the large impact / large trauma that comes from intergenerational trauma from colonization, systemic racism, and not-white America centered trauma. And I know that likely has to do with how massively white tumblr dot com is, but it really isn't until I was around my writing partner that has known me for more than half my life and talking with another peer with Chinese-Indonesian background did it really occur to me how intensely pervasive intergenerational trauma due to US involvement in SE Asia is and how it plays / impacts my life.

A lot of non-America centered trauma and abuse really doesn't fall into any of the real common ways people talk about abuse, neglect and trauma because a lot of that sort of trauma is way more complex and nuanced because a lot of the nature of HOW / WHY that abuse, neglect and trauma occurred is inherently tied a lot more into a history of community / collective trauma and abuse and the ways the individuals from those areas 1) had to survive and 2) the resources that they had available to work with and 3) the inability / difficulty for individuals who are transmitting that intergenerational trauma to realize that they are not in that situation anymore and thus not unintentionally recreate the environment / mindset / trauma for the kids going on

And I'm saying "inability / difficulty" in this case because while I agree that the rhetoric of "it doesn't matter if an abuser has trauma, they could have not continued it" is true in most cases, in my experience especially with my own intergenerational trauma, some people have systemically been stripped of basically any real resources or aid or opportunity or space to really "stop the cycle of abuse" and even at their obvious BEST attempts, they still end up in a position where they systemically really can't prevent it from passing on

It was a joke - a very real joke, but that is something I appreciate with my close friends because it reminds me to check my anxieties against reality - that I "act like I still am in Indonesia" (which for the record, I have never been in Indonesia, I'm the only one in my family that hasn't because I wasn't born when they were there) as a call back to when I was commentating on the complex and dynamic financial situation my family had growing up to which my friend told me "Yeah, but it doesn't matter if you had money or not if your dad constantly lived like he was still in Indonesia" which like... 100% true

And its honestly a really fucking hard thing to work through and overcome. Factually, ON MY OWN - ie not including my fiance who is ALSO in a similar situation on his own, I am financially pretty well off. Every month I make good savings and I have a pretty fat cushion in case things go bad, and so I very much CAN afford to buy myself a $6 fidget toy, but spending that $6 feels like fucking death itself a lot of the time.

I honestly don't know if I'll ever feel as if my financial situation is anything other than broke, not because of income or anything, but just because the factual amount of money I make isn't what controls if I feel financially comfortable / well off or not. I could probably have a half million in the bank and still be sweating about spending $6 on a fidget toy.

And honestly, I was watching 90 day fiance with my friends when I was traveling, and one of the dynamics (for those that know Ashley and Manuel) REALLY made it apparent how disconnected multi-generational Americans can be towards immigrant / immigrant families that have had to come to America for a chance at a better life. It's an experience - a trauma that a lot of people who are not an immigrant themselves or a first generation American to wrap their head around and fathom.

And honestly, I wish there was more talk about it. I wish there were more people with that history talking about it.

(I 'lowkey' start venting under here so Imma put it under the cut since it detracts somewhat from the point but its also worth stating)

I wish there were more people openly discussing how absolutely fucked it is that the US gets to come into countries, INTENTIONALLY fuck it up as a CONFIRMED and ADMITTED method to 'instill democracy / capitalism', and then the same people that from the same country that the US fucked over - for PURE survival - have to immigrate for a chance of living a life that is anything other than rough and a constant struggle.

Some people really wonder why it is that our system has such a foul taste in our mouth for America, I know some people think that because before fusing, >I< wondered why XIV was so deeply and intensely bitter about all things American, and I absolutely get it.

Indonesia was literally intentionally and systemically fucked over by the US Military. That fucking over resulting in immense trauma to my dad that not only immensely translated to me, but also made him EXTREMELY subservient in a "keep your head down, lick the boots of the most powerful person, and enjoy living under the boot of those in power because its the only way to have peace" which is something we - specifically XIV in the past - had internalized deeply which is why were were pretty far down the right wing path and why - when XIV looked at it closer and immediately saw past it - flipped to hard Anti-America values. Because its FUCKED that the US gets to come and ruin a country and then have the victims come and having the same victims "thankfully" licking the boots of the US for giving them a "better life".

Its honestly awful and literally no one talks about it and I know its not just Indonesia that has this. Its the fucking US's modus operandi and its fucking awful.

The US is a place you can come "to get a better life" largely because they fucking ruined most of the other places ability to have a good life.

[kali-chaotic-neutral]

What you need to hear right now

Pick an outfit aesthetic and get called out by my Tarot decks

Light Academia Preppy Fairycore Coquette

Disclaimer: This tarot reading is not meant for you to make drastic choices or actions. Take this with a pinch of salt, this is just me giving advice with my sassy decks. Take the advice you want, anything that doesn't resonate, leave it.

My decks are taking turns calling you out on your bullshit, because sometimes delulu is NOT the solulu.

Light Academia:

What is your relationship with money? No, seriously. You're saving and saving money and not using it. And that's good. But there's a thin line between being frugal/not wasting your money and willingly hoarding. The former is being more smart and saving up to benefit you in the future, but the latter comes more from anxiety and fear. You don't want to buy things or spend some money in fear of loosing everything. Hoarding and having this paranoia over money will end up in you loosing it all as the universe will see you unhappy over the money you have that it will take it back and not give it. Not because you don't deserve it, but because the universe thinks that this wealth and money that you're hoarding is putting you in a bad place and it doesn't want that.

Why are you so nervous and hesitant to reveal your projects? It could be a book you're writing, poems, art, anything. Your fear of failure and eventually not letting others see your work will lead to what you fear. Failing. I was there in that place, darling. I feared people would judge me because of what I wrote, how I wrote. Then I showed a couple of my friends and teachers and they LOVED IT! People might not like it, but that doesn't they'll hate it. You'll never you know until you try.

How long are you going to hold onto the fear of failure or maybe years ago when you did fail in something that caused that fear? How long are you going to let the past drag you down? Hold you back from being the writer, the poet, the artist that you are!? The fear will always be there, but would you rather be in a a perpetual state of fear and anxiety or be someone that doesn't have regrets. Because there will be if you hold yourself back like this. Oh, why did I not just enter that poetry contest? Why did I not just show my art to others? Why did I not... Why didn't I... Regrets. Do you want a future full of regrets? No? Change.

You have a habit of being a big talker. Oh, I'll publish my book when I 'm 25. Oh, I'll go to the best art college. Oh this and that and that. But do you work hard to achieve those? I'm a big talker too, I had troubles working up as well. My 11th grade AS Level exams were a wake up call for me. I've passed and am on my way to a good college in a few months. Work hard and smart, don't keep flapping your gums dreaming big. It won't come true unless you work hard enough for it. You're also focusing too hard in perfecting your work to your detriment. Trying to perfect things almost always lead to it being even worse than before. Leave your projects as they are and let someone else, someone you trust look at it. Let them give you input and comments on your work, take those comments as ways to make your work better. Not as flaws they notices.

Once you fix all this shit up, work on yourself and your fears, fast change and movement will come. Maybe you'll finally get into that art college or college. Maybe you'll get that scholarship. But good change is coming. Don't read this and go: oh, good change is coming, I'll just relax a bit—NO!! If you do this the change will be for the worse. The universe will be sending you lessons after lessons if you slack off. Not until you're well off and in that dream house and job.

Slack off and my cards can see bad luck coming, you might lose people in your life due to conflict. Nothing good. There will be family issues that will need your attention, maybe someone is sick or just not feeling well mentally. If you actually work hard, I can see you becoming emotionally mature, and a good and loving figure to yourself and others.

Preppy:

Why are you putting more on your plate than you can eat? Why are you willingly allowing your workload to get heavier and heavier? You're overworked, on the brink of a burn out and yet you're here panicking and loosing sleep over the burden of projects and work you've put upon yourself. Put the other projects aside, do the most important one. And now, I know there is one project that is more important than the others. Evaluate the significance of the work you're doing and do the most important ones. One by one. Don't multitask darling. And stop overburdening yourself. You're letting obstacles get in the way and thus loosing discipline over yourself and loosing sight of your real goal. Take back the reins and steady yourself, focus on the path you want to take and go there.

Due to doing the exact amount of work you're supposed to be, you're able to solely focus on your projects. Cultivating it and making it better and successful. And I can see this as a time of celebration. BUT. Don't let it get to your head. Because if you do and you get cocky, fortune will not favor you. When things go downhill for you, learn from your mistakes and ensure it doesn't happen again.

You're not letting change take place. You're refusing to let this chapter of your life end, because you're afraid what the next chapter holds. LET GO!! Stop trying to extend the pages of this chapter. IT"S OVER. The more you resist, the more the situation will drag and drag. Universe has your back no matter how stubborn you are.

You're doubting yourself. This is impeding you being able to fulfil your highest potential and be your best self. Take a small break from whatever you're doing. Reflect, self evaluate. I've recently begun doing shadow work every night before bed, 3 questions max (you can find on Pinterest) and I do a gratitude journal every morning when I wake up (bullet list of what I'm grateful for). Limit and stop your inner critic, because you become what you think. If someone grows up being called an idiot they'll always think they're an idiot. It won't matter if a few teachers of peers say they're surprisingly smart. Change your mindset, be kinder to yourself. It isn't easy. But you'll get there.

If you continuously drag the past and your insecurities with you, it will lead to more stressful situations, more sadness, failure, a place where you'll be forced to choose. if you don't let these drag you down, you will become the highest version of yourself and someone who is successful and confident and powerful.

Fairycore:

You're not listening to your intuition, or your inner voice. Your intuition is important and should be heard. Maybe you're ignoring red flags in a person, or a situation. You're not listening to yourself and that is not good. You're not facing your inner world or your inner truth. Not wanting to accept or listen, not sure. But it isn't going to do you any good. Withdrawing from your inner world will lead to disbalance. Turn towards your inner self, take care of it. Focus on which part of your life is being unattended, care for it.

You're trying too hard to fit in with the crowd. Going along with the trends, doing what everyone else does, and nothing is wrong with that. There's nothing wrong with going with the flow and doing what is familiar to you, just don't put too much effort into it. Like you know the long line for Stanley Cups? (I think that's what they're called) Like don't be that desperate and plain like the others.

There will be burdens on your mind/mental health due to neglecting your inner voice and thoughts. You will end up bursting and exploding one day and it will lead to guilt and embarrassment. This will lead to you withdrawing within yourself, not wanting to go out. You'll feel tempted to give up and withdraw into yourself. Don't. Plan strategically, be aware of people around you that may not have your best interests at heart. Don't trust blindly, listen to your intuition and gut feeling. Listen and plan.

Once you begin strategically and logically planning, you will be successful (financially) and there will be better relationships in your life (platonic, romantic, etc.) You life will be more harmonious and calm and pleasant and once you've dealt with the people who don't have your best interest at heart, new better friendships will come. SO DON"T GIVE UP B*TCH!!!

Coquette:

You're frustrated because an idea for a project that you have, is not really having the breakthrough that you hoped it would. You're exasperated, tired and annoyed. I would be too. But it won't get better the more annoyed you get. Go back to the planning books/board and read over what you had planned. Proofread it, cut out a few things, add a few things, change a few things. Don't let frustration get to you here. It happens to all of us. The project simply needs a tweak. You're ambition has lead you to rush with this project, that's why it's not going the way you want it to. You've rushed the planning, so the project will be that way. Unsatisfactory. Don't rush headlong into these things, take time to prepare and plan the foundations of the project. It's almost like you're trying to grow up fast. And that's not good. Don't rush the process. Enjoy your life as it is now, before adulthood comes with its imposing responsibilities and expectations. Otherwise you'll live a life looking back into your childhood with regrets.

Because of this regret or stress from jumping into things rashly, it could lead to unhealthy addictions. You falling into darker thoughts. This could lead to times of confusion, where you're lying to yourself. Being delulu and trying to convince yourself it's not that bad. Change. Don't let your delusions get ahold of you, take a break from what you're doing and re-evaluate your work. Once re-evaluated and proper change brought, I can see you getting everything you've ever tried manifesting.

there could be a male figure (either a partner/brother or friend) will be a great help to you in financial matters. Maybe even a beginning of a romance if it is a friend and if it is a partner, maybe your love life will take a next step. ONLY if you work on the issues I've stated

[sequincult]

Return of the Floyd AU

(Floyd returns to join his brothers but only finds a teenage grey Branch, who is not too happy to see him.)

The years since Floyd left have not been easy on him. His solo career tanked, his boyfriend left after Floyd’s Brozone money dried up, and now he has nowhere to go. He spent years living in the woods, searching for wherever the Trolls ended up once they’d escaped the Bergens. After a very long time, he finally finds them. But not everything is how he’d imagined. He makes his way into the village, and asks for help from a very pink troll.

Floyd coyly walks up to her. “Hi, excuse me? Could you help me find someone?” 

“Oh hi there! I don’t think I’ve seen you around before?? Luckily for you I know just about everyone in this village!! Who are you looking for?”

Floyd’s eyes dart around, overwhelmed at her energy. “I’m uh looking for my brothers! They’re-”

 Suddenly a voice beckons from behind the trees.

“They’re not here.” A figure emerges. It’s Branch. Stood next to Poppy he may as well be in black and white. The only colour on his body being his jacket, a jacket Floyd immediately recognises as his own.

Poppy raises an eyebrow. “Oh just ignore him, he doesn-“

But before she can even finish, Floyd’s eyes light up. “Baby Branch!!”

He runs towards him, arms wide open for a hug, but stops in his tracks after noticing Branch’s appearance.

 “Wait, what happened to you? You look so dull, and your eyes are so…”

“So what? Wrinkled? Ugly? Grey? Hey, nice to see you too.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Sensing a moment of tension, Poppy interrupts. 

“Wait wait wait, branch! you have a brother?”

Branch frowns and shakes his head. “Hey can you stay out of this? It has nothing to do with you.”

“Oh ok. Right… I’ll go.”

Poppy sighs and leaves with her head held low.

After a deep breath, Branch continues.

“So Floyd, if you’re wondering why I look like this, maybe it’s because all of my brothers abandoned me. Maybe it’s because none of the other trolls understand. Not a single one of them know how it’s feels to be totally alone.”

“But, what about Grandma? I thought she’d take care of you. W-where is she?”

Branch shakes and grits his teeth.

“SHE DIED FLOYD”

His eyes shoot to the ground. His hands squeezed tightly.

“She died, and I was the only one who could have saved her… a-and I failed.”

Floyd takes a step back. He can struggles to breathe as he feels the weight of his mistakes filling his chest like lead.

“So you. Were alone.” 

Branch loses his temper, screaming as his tears poured down his face.

“OF COURSE I’D END UP ALONE. WHAT DID YOU THINK? SHE’D LIVE FOREVER?”

“I.. I…thought…”

Branch interrupts: “Whatever it is you thought was wrong. Why did you even come back anyway.”

 “I just wanted to see my brothers again and-”

“Well bad news. None of the others came back. It’s just me. And right now I’m really wishing you’d leave.”

“Branch please, I’m sorry just listen to me”

“Nope. I’m leaving you this time, and I’m going home. Don’t follow me unless you wanna die in a bear trap. Bye.” Branch turns his back and hastily stomps away.

Floyd curls up on the ground, alone. Thousands of thoughts are racing through his mind. How could this have happened? He’d never seen a troll look so desaturated. That’s when he notices. Out of the corner of his eye. His hand is turning grey.

He starts panicking, his breathing accelerates. 

“No, no, no. What’s happening.”

His anxiety is only stopped by a sudden scream.

“HEY FLOYD!!!!!” A head appears from the bushes. It’s… Poppy?

“FLOYD are you OK? Your name is Floyd right?” She looks down and screams. “OHMYGOSHYOURHAND!. What do I do what do I do??? Uh, try and think about like, flowers and rainbows and stuff?

Even through the pain Floyd can’t help but roll his eyes. “I’m sorry, but that’s not really helping right now. And were you… listening to us in the bushes? That’s kinda creepy.”

Poppy smiles. “Well, it is my duty as princess to help every trolls problem. Even if it involves being kinda creepy”

Floyd seems a little surprised. “Oh, you’re the princess here?”

Poppy immediately realises she hasn’t actually introduced herself yet. “Oh my goodness how RUDE of me! I’m Poppy, princess of Troll village and your new best friend! I’ll take you to my Dad, he might know what to do. Let me help you up.”

She holds out her hand. (part 2)

[deadpool15]

Ch.2 To be loved

Seeing him was the highlight of my day. I remembered when I was nothing but an orphan, though I can't remember my biological parents. I sometimes like to think they died. It was the best way for me when I was just a kid. To accept the fact that even the ones who gave you life viewed as nothing but a mistake was difficult. My mother viewed her destiny as saving her country, getting rid of the drugs that were taking lives. In my opinion, people died all the time. Life was hard. We have no idea what someone is going through until they are pushed to the end. She would never understand that struggle. That pain. When I heard it was si-o behind all this, I had to know why. People have reasons, I had to be the one to see the good in him. Even if no one else could. I was falling in love, love makes you do dumb things.

Whether I was dumb or hopeless, I wanted to know him. Not the version he showed to the public, the fake smiles meant nothing to me. I wanted to see him truly smile, to be happy. I happened to be at one of my mothers many chain restaurants. And to my luck sitting there was the man I had hoped for, now I hadn't prepared myself to speak to him and I realized that when he had made eye contact with me. Stern, serious glare like he knew I was watching him. Talking to people wasn't necessarily the issue. I talked my way out of parking tickets, jail, and even school punishments as a child. I was a smooth talker, one thing I developed from my mom. Though he made me nervous, my hands were sweating, and I had the urge to convert into oxygen. I wanted to cry because as much as I hated to admit it, his opinion of me meant a lot. One accidental interaction, and I was hooked. He knew me as Tseg tseg rich spoiled friend. I wanted him to see me. It already pissed me off that he had eyes for my sister. She took everything from me without even fucking trying. I had to man up and fight for what I wanted.

"Hello sir, you probably don't know me, but my name is Danny. We kinda met before when I bumped into you at your company." He smiled though I could tell it was fake, after years of faking happiness myself. I knew a fake smile from a mile away. "Right, your Tseg's little friend, correct?" Irritation couldn't even be used as the word for what I felt in that moment, I wanted him to see me. "Technically, that's how we met, though I just wanted to say something t-to you. Please." I stood up drawing attention to myself truly not what I needed right now, but I had to tell him before anything else happened. My anxiety was through the roof, I wanted to crawl into a hole and die right then and there standing under his intimidating stare. I had to do this, though. He was the first person I felt genuine feelings for, and I didn't even know him personally. The effect he had on me was outrageous.

"I wanted to go out with you. I want to get to know you, and I know I'm not korean, and your parents may have an issue with that, but I mean Nationality vise I am. Everyone thinks I'm just this spoiled rich assshole, but i im not, and i want to show you that there is more to me than my money or parents' money. I have korean parents, so that counts, I'm well accounted for, and I have seen you before, and you're all I think about no matter what. I try to get my mind off of you, and my brain proceeds to show different connections to you. And if you p-plan to reject me, just sit here and silence, and I won't ever bother you again. Well, I hope so, I can try." He was astonished but my speech. Everyone had turned their attention towards us and started clapping. I hadn't even noticed at first. I couldn't handle rejection, especially not by him. I wanted to be with him, breathe in his scent, and help him with anything. Live a life with him. Silence was what I got, and I took the message. I had embarrassed him and myself.

Suddenly, walking out, trying to hold back tears, I was 5 years old me again. I'm sitting at my dance recital waiting for my mommy. She promised she would come today since I told her how much this meant to me. Sitting there for the next 4 hours in nothing but silence was the worst feeling a child could feel. The competition was over, I didn't even dance, missing a chance to get picked for a major academy. I saw dad pull up. Why did she hate me so much. "Honey, you didn't tell me you had a competition today, and I found the scouts there as well. I would've shown up, baby." I stared at him. I was a daddy's girl simply because my mother broke my heart before I could ever feel love from her. "I didn't tell you because I told Mommy. I wanted her to come watch me this time. To surprise her with my skills." Just glancing at him, I knew that look, the look of a father who was afraid to break their already broken child. I snapped out of it when I felt someone shaking my shoulders. Looking up, it was him. "I've been calling you for 20 minutes. You almost got hit by that truck. Are you even paying attention?" I stared at him, I didn't know what to say, would he care enough to hear. "You ran out before I could say anything. Scared? You're very pretty. And bold. I've never had someone confess their love for me in a public area at that. I admire that, while I don't really know you, I would like to get to know you. Experience something."

I was so happy at that moment that I completely ignored the world around me. I jumped onto him. He was startled at first but caught me with ease. I leaned back and cupped his face, pecking his cheek, and for that first time, I saw a genuine smile. A real surprise for me, I enjoyed it. "You look beautiful when you smile, like a hidden jem only made for the luckiest humans to gaze at." He stared at me, blushing. From that moment, we slowly got to know each other, getting closer day and night. Developing an unbreakable bond. I didn't care he was a so-called criminal. When I was with him, none of that mattered. I never asked about his business, letting him know if he wanted to tell me he could. I kept this from my family, I knew they would never approve of what we had, especially my mother. She didn't give a shit about me, but in a situation like this, she saw him as an enemy.

We sat at a Korean BBQ shop. It was simply nice to spend time at a place with no worries. "I could've taken you someone nicer, you know." I placed some meat on the grill what grabbing a piece and putting it in front of his mouth. He smiled and opened his mouth to eat it. "Is it good? And you know I don't care about expensive restaurants. I've been to enough in my lifetime. I just want to be with you. To be honest, you could've gotten fried chicken and took to me the beach to eat. It's the thought that counts, babe." He smiled at me, I smiled back until I realized the petname I gave him immediately going to apologize. "It's fine, I actually like it. Babe." Blushing, I gave him more meat. We talked about our days, he was stressed and I wanted to help. Thought he said I shouldn't stress myself. We finished eating and literally had a full-on battle over who would pay the bill. I won, "Maybe I'll let you pay next time." He laughed, grabbing my hand and walking out of the shop. While pda was no foreign concept to me, it still made me feel like it was the first interaction between us each time it happened. "Come home with me, please." I stared at him in shock. He had never asked me this. I had no experience in relationships, but usually, that leads to other things. I didn't know what was gonna happen, but I trusted him.

We showed up to his home. He told me to wash up for the night. I happily got in the shower to think I was happy. A foreign feeling. My shower lasted well over 30 minutes, I looked down and saw a towel and a button-up shirt. Luckily, I always kept a spare thong with me. Putting on the clothes, I walked out of the bathroom to find him already washed up and laying in bed. A blue robe and pajama pants on while he was on the phone. I walked out of the room to got place my clothes in the hamper, then grabbed a glass of water. I was drinking it while examining the home I had never been inside. Eventually, I walked back towards the room where he was done with his phone call. And looked up with a dropped jaw. I smiled at his antics. "You're still so pretty. With and without the makeup. Come here." Walking slowly towards his bed, he gestured for me to move closer. I crawled to him, and apparently, it wasn't close enough because he picked me up and placed me on his lap while holding my hips. I felt nervous. He noticed squeezing my hips with his larm hands.

I grabbed one of his hands, placing them in mine. Comparing the size and then kissing his palms, I looked up at him to see a bright smile. "I'm not tired yet." I told him it usually took me a while to go to sleep. I was just always up. He nodded and pulled me closer in a hug. Affection from si-o was always the best. I could tell he wasn't the most affectionate person, so I didn't push him. Though I craved his touch, I craved everything about him. Looking out the window, I saw the stars. "This reminds me of when my mom took me and my siblings camping once. It was weird, though it was fun." I continued to look at the stars until he spoke up. "You don't talk about your mother much. Actually, you don't talk about her at all. For a second, I thought she had passed." I was shocked by the thought of my mothers absence. Sure, I never spoke about her because there weren't any good memories, to be honest. "It's fine if you don't want to speak about it." I looked at his face full of concern he was so patient with me, but I wanted him to know and trust me like I did him. "It's ok, it's just.....there isn't much to talk about, you know. She was there but not there. She was always focused on my older sister. She was the amazing daughter who could do no wrong. And I was simply the girl that lived in her house, or that's what it felt like. Sometimes, it felt like I didn't have a mom to begin with. To think I used to pray to have a mother that would be there for me. Then my sister went missing, and as much as I hate to say it, I was happy, for once I though she would pay attention to me, realizing she had two daughters but it only got worse. I was just there, and I hated myself for the fact that I was happy my sister was gone. I've always been jealous of her she is better in every way. That's so evil of me, but I was so fucking lonely. She is such a good person, and makes friends so easily and everyone likes her but me they look down on me. I'm nothing more then a spoiled bitch using her parents credit card to fill the void."

Before I noticed, I was full on sobbing in front of him. I broke down, secrets I've never told anyone in my life. I was afraid of what the world would think of me. He grabbed my shaking hands, kissing them slowly, whining, moving up to wipe my tears. "Your feelings are normal baby, you went your entire life playing second place because your mother is a terrible mother, no offense. A bit of a bitch you know. No secret there since she is Hwang Geum Joo." Hearing that part made me laugh. Until I sat there shocked he knew of my parent. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you." It was all I could say at the moment. He looked at me and pressed against my cheeks, letting me know it was ok. And he underdtood the urge to protect her even if she wanst good to me. Or cared for me, it seems."You are so amazing and kind and beautiful. She isn't better than you at all. I wish you could see the way I see you. You have lightened up my world as a whole. I was nothing but a cold, damaged asshole when I met you, then I realized no matter how my life pushes and kicks your ass its your choice to get back up. To keep going, you taught me that baby. All the drug business and shady stuff I do, you don't judge me at all. Sitting by my side supporting me no matter what I choose to do. When I was an orphan and Pavel took me in, trained me to become the person I am today, hit after hit. Missed meal after another, I prayed for a better life. You have provided that life." Hearing those words, my heart was swelled. I felt nothing but love for the first time someone chose me, loves me. I wasn't an option. I was a need. "I'm so glad you chose me or tseg." Hearing that, he laughing pulling me closer if that was possible. "I never liked tseg baby, she is a worker at my company that'd all. If anything, I had my eyes on you since you walked into the building." Similing in pure joy, I leaped forward, causing a groan to come of his mouth. Scared I hurt him, I tried to get up until he forced my hips back down. It was then I realized I hadn't hurt him. In fact, the moment u felt something hard poking me thigh, I blushed.

"How in the world did you get hard, sir?" He simply smiled at my words, moving me forward to the point where I was sitting directly on top of his hard on. My core pushed further into it slowly until he began grinding me against him. I couldn't help but moan. It all felt too good. "Have you seen my beautiful girlfriend sitting right on top of me in nothing but my shirt? If anything, it was difficult not to." Moans slipped from my mouth before I could let out a sarcastic response. Finally, I said the words I had been so afraid to ever tell anyone. "I love y-you." Hearing this, he sped up my hips against his, leaning in to capture my lips into a kiss. "I love you more, baby." We continued until we were left naked and bare before each other, and all the insecurities, abandonment issues, and pain left my mind. Leaving nothing but si-o. The night was a night to remember.

Stay tuned for chapter 3.

[yermes]

PAC: 🧸

I’ve been so poor and so broke the past few years, and now that I have an income Idk how to act or what to spend money on because in my head I am still in such an act of fight or flight. Like I kinda want to buy a cute back to school fit, I kinda want to new crochet needles, I kinda want new bedding and I just am so indecisive abt it. IF YOU STRUGGLE WITH THE IMPOSTER SYNDROME OF HAVING MONEY AND HAVE FINANCIAL ANXIETY PLEASE THIS IS FOR YOU.

Disclaimer: please take what I say with a grain of salt and not as the gospel. I just want to share some ideas of practicing and giving advice using the medium as often as I can with school, work, and my own personal studies and practice. I know you all were NOT FEELING PARADIGMS AND AEONICS BUT I SWEAR I WILL DELIVER!! Liking and sharing does a lot and feel free to follow me else where as well 🫶

Socials: TipJar | Follow me!

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The cards

I DID A STUPID AND HAD TO DIG THROUGH MY DECK TO REFIND THESE MF FORGIVE ME I HAVE NOT BEEN AT MY BEST!

Truce 🧸

Four of Swords, Jupiter in the 3. of Libra, Chesed through Air

YOU ARE THE REASON YOU CAME INTO WEALTH DO NOT DOUBT IT. You saw the issue of what made you so poor and you solved it. Use this comfort to reflect on why you are so anxious. If you stay anxious you just deprive yourself from your victory.

The Fool 🃏

Pisces going to Aries, Uranus and Mercury, Air, Kether going to Chokmah

You never had any kind of wealth like this before and now you don’t know how to act and theres a lot of stress because there’s many different paths you can go down. Theres endless possibilities but some of them can have negative repercussions do not dive in blindly.

Valour 🪄

Mars in the 3. of Leo, Netzach through fire, seven of wands

You are being set up or your setting yourself up to face a challenge that will only make you stronger. (Saving for big investments like a house, higher education, moving in hopes of a better life.) This will fundamentally change you because it will be so hard but so worth it. You’re in a fighting state but it will be rewarded. The risk will be nothing comparable to the reward.

Extras:

Story/vent:

GOD is good I got an interview at my campus c:

Edit

I just want to say I literally embody all these so again please do not feel called out if anything these all are self roasts.

But let me tell you this anxiety has saved my ass I got a $200 book for $50 bc my ass can get a book foe CHEAP

[animentality]

Going off people hating you...My ex broke up with me recently and stayed with our ex roomates. I feel him and my roomates hate me, or did. I was no perfect roommate but the three were always aginst me with how I did things. I was at fault for doing to many loads in the washer when they are the ones who's big loads were what broke our washer and dryer. I tried to do dishes to keep up with the shear amount but that made our water bill go up to high so I was at fault. Yet they would all leave left over food from cooking on the counter for days. Meat juice, veggies, peice of meat, old leftover food, perfectly good vegies that when bad (we also had a fruit fly problem in the kitchen quite a bit). They also would complain about me using a lot of the electricity just because I had many decviiced in my room. Yet I had the same things on and off yet our electricity bill would go up in winter. Which they did not like that it rose up. They didn't like how I rased my cats and would critiqued me. They grew up with diffrent habits with how the place should be run but I had to bend to those rules. They would use my dishes and I would have modly food sitting in them for weeks. A couple of them also didn't like that I was trying to save money while living (aka I had more in saveing as wasnt in debt). And the fact my rent was the lowest of everyones. They did like that I hung out in my room yet I told them I have a long habit of that and most likly will stick to my room. This was all small stuff they did or said, but I started to feel like nothing I did they liked. I don't know what I did right as they never acknowledged it. The silence could just be the clam before the storm rather them me doing something they liked,

I didn't leave on bad terms with them. I just knew my ex had no one else to live with...but I feel they hate me now. I have been trying to contact them about some money we owe on the previous place we live but they don't anwser their phone or even call or text me back.

Some time I wounder if I was really a shitty person when I live with them...or do they just hate me? Everyone else in my life seems to like me. I always meet such nice stangers at work and I love my co-workers. Strangers are ushally really nice to me when I am out shopping. My friends are amazing and I always meet people who want to hang out with me.

Sorry for the personal info. But I appecate you listening to my woes.

I have one motto in life, anon, and it's saved me a lot of headaches and anxiety, as well as opened my perspective to the problems of others, and myself.

If you run into one asshole in the morning, you ran into one asshole.

If you run into assholes all day, then you're the asshole.

The honest to god truth that's hard for people to notice, acknowledge, and accept is that the person they present to this world is often not completely aligned with who they are on the inside. There are people who insist they're good listeners, while babbling nonstop and never letting anyone get a word in edgewise. There are people who insist they're "compassionate" and "selfless" individuals, while also simultaneously planning on throwing you down river for making them late for a manicure. There are people who "always find themselves in the middle of drama" through no fault of their own...and yet, most of us live drama free lives and DON'T spend all our time arguing on discord.

There are people who "don't understand" why all their former friends hate them, and why they have a hard time keeping friends, and why they keep running into "bad people" while totally ignoring the fact that there's a reason no one is a long term friend of theirs. it's them. they're the common denominator. no one has that bad of luck, to be running into bad friends all day. they're the bad friend.

So to get back to what you're worried about... the truth is....

If you meet one... or two...or maybe even three people who absolutely hate you...but you have friends who do not. You have a family who loves you. You have coworkers, and a community that likes you...

it's not you. it's them.

to me, it's the law of averages. you can't please everyone in this world, and you should never try. aim to be decent to others, to those who are decent to you, and don't worry about the people it didn't work out with.

there's nothing wrong with you.

[im-just-a-br0adway-baby]

Encanto 2023 Day 11: Liminal

Tonight was the night of Isabela and Dolores’s quinceanera, and since their birthdays were so close, Alma decided to combine them. Not only that it saved the family a lot of time and money, but it also helped in not overwhelming the family in planning two separate parties within a couple weeks from each other.

Isabela and Dolores sat in Isabela’s room together with their pink dresses on and their hair in updos and curls with little diamond barrettes all over their hair. Julieta and Pepa came inside the room to see their daughters sitting on Isabela’s bed together, looking at each other, then at their mothers. They smiled and walked over to them with their clunky dresses and gave them a hug.

“How are you feeling, mijas? You look a little nervous,” Julieta mentioned.

“We’re feeling a little bit nervous. It’s just that we are the first ones of our siblings to have a quinceanera, and although we’re having it together, we still feel like we’re going to make a fool out of ourselves,” Isabela explained.

Julieta and Pepa hugged their daughters once more as they made their way to Isabela’s bed. The mothers put their hands on their daughters’ laps. “It’s okay to feel this way; you never had another family’s quinceanera to be at so you could get a feel of what it was like, and we were the same way when we were your age,” Pepa explained.

Isabela and Dolores looked at their mothers and smiled at them. “Were you just as nervous as we are now?” Dolores asked.

“A little bit, what we do remember was us being in my room together at this very moment, right before the party started,” Julieta explained.

-------------------------------------------------

Julieta and Pepa sat in Julieta’s room together, with their sparkly pink dresses on and their hair done up in their best by the best hairdresser in the Encanto. They sat on Julieta’s bed to gaze in the mirror across the room and appreciate how beautiful they both looked.

“Wow, you look so beautiful,” Pepa said to her sister.

“So do you,” Julieta replied.

“Do you think there might be a possibility we might trip and embarrass ourselves in front of the entire Encanto?”

“Why would you say that?”

“Because this is a big transition for us. I know the whole Encanto has been at all of our birthday parties since our gift ceremony, but this is the first one since then to have this much pressure put on our backs.”

Julieta hugged her sister and Pepa hugged her back. They sighed in unison and looked at themselves in the mirror when they were done. Alma opened the door in the middle of their moment to see her daughters looking at themselves in the mirror and smiling at themselves, twirling in front of the mirror and laughing together, trying to swallow their anxiety the best they possibly could.

“Hola, mijas; the party’s about to start. Are you ready?” Alma asked.

��We are, we’re just a little bit nervous,” Julieta admitted.

“Why are you nervous?”

“Because this is the biggest transition in our lives since our gift ceremony. We’re scared we’re going to embarrass ourselves,” Pepa explained.

Alma came into the room and sat on Julieta’s bed. “You both seem like you’re excited, though. I just saw you twirling around in the mirror a couple seconds ago.”

“We’re excited too; well, nervous and excited. We feel like princesses right now, but we’re also scared because we don’t know how it’s going to go,” Julieta explained.

Julieta and Pepa went back to the bed to hug their mother. “I just wish there was a way to relax ourselves before we go out there,” said Pepa.

“There was this one trick your abuela taught me on my quinceanera when I was your age. It’s been passed on for generations. First, let’s sit on the floor in a little circle,” Alma explained. Julieta and Pepa did as they were told before Alma joined them. “Now, we hold hands, and close our eyes. And we take a deep breath, and squeeze our hand in the circle clockwise. Do you want to try? I’ll start.”

Alma, Julieta, and Pepa held hands and closed their eyes, as Alma said. All three women breathed in simultaneously and held it in. Alma started by squeezing Julieta’s hand, then Julieta squeezed Pepa’s hand, and Pepa squeezed Alma’s hand. The three women let out their breaths simultaneously once Alma received her squeeze.

“Do you feel more relaxed?” Alma asked.

“Si, we feel a little bit more relaxed,” Julieta replied.

“Do you feel like you’re ready to do the ceremonies?”

“Si, we think the quinceanera will be fun,” Pepa added.

Alma hugged her daughters before making her way out of the room. “The party should be starting in ten minutes. I will be in front of the stairwell to start the party.”

Once Alma closed the door, Julieta and Pepa smiled at each other and held their hands. They approached the door and looked at each other once more.

“Are you ready for this?” Julieta asked.

“Absolutamente,” said Pepa.

-----------------------------------------------

“Do you want to do the exercise right now? I’ll start,” Julieta asked.

“Si; I think it will help,” Isabela said.

The four women then sat on Isabela’s floor and held their hands. They closed their eyes and took in a deep breath simultaneously. Julieta started the chain by squeezing Isabela’s hand. Isabela then squeezed Pepa’s hand, Pepa squeezed Dolores’s hand, and Dolores ended the chain by squeezing Juleita’s hand. Once Juleita got her squeeze back, the four women let their held breath out and opened their eyes.

“How do you feel?” Pepa asked.

“We feel so much better. Gracias, mami,” Dolores answered.

Right on time, Alma knocked on Isabela’s door and opened it slightly. “Isabela? Dolores? The party’s going to start in ten minutes. Are you ready?” she asked.

“Si; we’re ready,” Isabela replied.

“Okay, Julieta, Pepa, we’re about to announce the start of the party.”

“Okay, mama, we’re coming,” said Julieta.

Alma, Julieta, and Pepa made their way out of Isabela’s room and closed the door. Isabela and Dolores looked at each other again and smiled before looking straight forward and making their way out the door. 

“Do you think we can do this?” Dolores asked.

“Absolutamente,” Isabela validated.

The cousins made their way out the door to see the entire Encanto downstairs talking and chatting with each other before Alma stopped them by making her way up Casita’s stairs and placing herself in the middle so everyone could see. They could see Luisa, Camilo, and Mirabel at the very bottom cheering them on and Felix and Agustin next to Pepa and Julieta waving at them. The cousins squeezed each other’s hands and smiled once more as they made their way to the side of the rails.

[scary-monsters]

I genuinely don't know how much longer I can do this

I try to keep mental health shit off this blog as much as possible bc that's not what it's for, it's supposed to be a place to share the things I make and to support others that love the same characters as I do. But also I need to be human sometimes

I haven't been getting enough sleep, my body won't let me rest more than 6 hours a night because I'm constantly riddled with anxiety and the pressure to work work work, be productive, do things or else you're useless.

I don't eat nearly enough because I can't afford to buy groceries most weeks and rarely have time to cook on the days I work. Most of the time I eat one meal a day and that's only on my 30min break at work. My body doesn't even like to take anything more than that.

I haven't bought new clothes in at least 2 years, because I can't afford to and why would I when I never go anywhere except work? If I have a day off I don't have the energy to try and look nice, I throw on old jeans and a t-shirt. And it sucks because clothing has always been a passion of mine and I used to take so much pride in the way I present myself. I miss that part of me.

I'm miserable all the time, if I'm at work I'm only thinking about suicide. I cry all the time. Yes I go to therapy, yes I have a psychiatrist, yes I take medication for my disorder. But it feels like nothing helps anymore.

My therapist asked me two days ago what the barriers to my goals and happiness are and I didn't even hesitate when I answered "work". My job is draining me to a point that is scary for me, I feel trapped in it because no matter how many applications I do, I always get 'no's. The jobs I do have a good shot at pay significantly less than what I currently make, so I can't risk losing that pay. I live by myself, I pay for everything by myself. I don't have anyone else to lean on.

We recently had a loss in the family, and while I handled it pretty well it also brought up all the other loss I've experienced in my life, and there's been a lot. To a point where if my mom calls and says "I need to talk to you", I immediately assume someone else has passed. So all I can think about lately is all those people and all the missed opportunities I had with them.

I'm tired and I don't know what to do, I feel lost and I can't help looking at suicide as my only option to get out of how shitty everything feels all the time. I'm only happy when I'm making art or writing or talking to friends, but when I don't have the energy to do those things?? What then? I sit here and stare at a screen and cry and wish I could be anyone other than myself. I can't measure up, and I'm kinda tired of trying.

I had to call in today because I can't do it, I feel myself falling apart at the seams, I've been snapping at coworkers and having attitude with customers, that's not me, but I feel like I'm losing myself. But because I called in I've now lost a quarter of my paycheck for this week. Every single day I have to pick whether I'd prefer experiencing suicidal ideation for 10.5 hours at work or sitting at home and feeling lost/lonely and crying instead.

I've been pretty good at hiding it and masking this year but idk, I don't have the energy to do it anymore. I'm lost, y'all, I have no direction and I don't know when/if things are gonna get better for me

(also I don't need anyone telling me that I could use vacation money to fix some of these issues; vacations are how I escape, and I need to do that. Plus I always save up PTO/money specifically for them.)

[vulpes-fennec]

Once Upon a Dream 🧵 (Ch. 3)

Summary: This time, the girl saves the prince. For Feysand month 2022’s Fairy Tale AU.

Read: Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | AO3

TW: Some violent imagery

Feyre was daydreaming about Rhys’s muscled shoulders again when a loud hammering came from the cottage door. She found Cassian and Azriel were standing outside, their bulky figures too crowded for the doorframe. They looked mildly disheveled, as if they’d ridden hard on their horses to get there. 

“Feyre!” Cassian’s normally gruff voice was on the verge of tears, and it broke Feyre’s heart. “It’s Rhys. He’s…he’s—” Feyre tried to put on a brave face and console Cassian with a hug, though her heart beat fast with anxiety. 

It was Azriel who held his composure, though his hazel eyes were similarly concerned. “Feyre, there’s something you need to know about Rhys,” he said urgently. “Rhys is the Crown Prince of the Night Kingdom.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” 

Rhys? A prince? Though, that would certainly explain a lot of things. Like the regal way he carried himself. How money was never an issue for him. Why he never talked about his parents and never invited her to Velaris. Because he lives in the damn palace, Feyre realized. Oh Cauldron…his parents are King Cormac and Queen Orla!

“So that means he has daemati powers?” Feyre asked, her voice cracking. She didn’t want to entertain the possibility that her feelings and thoughts towards him were of his manipulation. And if they were… 

Cassian shook his head. “Gods, no, it’s not what you think, Feyre,” he tried to explain. “He would never use his powers on you. On us. Ever.” 

“But that’s only the first part,” Azriel added. “Feyre…apparently King Beron of Autumn placed a curse on Rhys when he was a baby. If Rhys pricks his finger on a spindle on his 18th birthday, he will fall into a deathless sleep.”

“A deathless sleep?” Feyre was confused. How could a body feasibly sustain itself in eternal slumber? 

“Their Majesties wanted him at the castle today for protection,” Cassian said. “They burned all the spinning wheels in Velaris, they lined the halls with warriors, and yet—”

“Oh gods,” Feyre whispered, tears filling her eyes. “And yet it still happened.” Azriel nodded grimly. “What are we going to do?” Panic rose in her chest.

Cassian ran his hand through his hair, looking defeated. “King Cormac is mustering the Illyrian warriors to bring Rhys back from the Forest Palace, because Beron wouldn’t let Rhys go without a fight.” 

“But the warlords have placed us on reserve,” Azriel said through gritted teeth. “Or you best believe Cassian and I would be the first ones charging into Autumn.” He turned to Feyre. “They’re also calling for all unmarried girls and women to go to Velaris. You should go.”

“Why?” 

“Because apparently only a kiss from Rhys’s mate can awaken him,” Cassian said. “Can you believe that? A mate? They’re going to make all of them kiss Rhys while he’s sleeping?” He shook his head and chuckled.

Feyre felt like her whole world was being turned upside down. Just this morning, she was laughing with Rhys over a fruit platter and a sweet cake. Now, that same friend turned out to be a cursed prince.

Perhaps Rhys was never hers to begin with if he was the heir to the Night Kingdom's throne. Perhaps he belonged to some unknown woman who wouldn’t know him half as well as Feyre did. But did she have to lose him to a stupid needle, to a stupid curse, to the stupid Autumn King, too? Feyre clenched her fists at the ridiculousness of it all. 

But where did that leave her? To sit idly by and wait for them to return Rhys’s body back to Velaris? To pray for a maiden to wake Rhys from eternal slumber, while dreading the thought of losing him to another woman forever? 

No. There was no guarantee that all the cards would fall into place. She couldn’t possibly just wait. Not with Rhys’s life on the line. No one gives me orders, Feyre realized. No one is going to stop me. 

“What are you going to do, Feyre?” Cassian asked. 

“I’m getting him back,” she declared. 

***A few days later***

Feyre rode a horse for days straight, cursing Beron Vanserra the whole way for transporting Rhysand across Prythian in mere seconds. Her ass and shoulders ached, but she pressed on. Feyre had packed quickly, grabbing only a water canteen, a change of clothes, trap-building supplies, her bow, a quiver of arrows, and the Illyrian blade Rhys had given her. 

Autumn was beautiful. How could such lovely forests belong to such a horrible man? Golden light filtered through red and orange foliage. Streams gurgled, birds sang, and the woods grew bountifully. Rhys would have liked it here, Feyre thought, had they arrived in Autumn under different circumstances. But Feyre couldn’t take her time exploring. She needed to make haste. 

Everything reminded her of Rhysand. When she snared a rabbit on the fifth night, even taking down the trap reminded Feyre of her first meeting with Rhys. She busied herself with skinning and roasting the rabbit over a small fire, refusing to entertain the possibility of losing Rhys forever. 

What if I never hear his laugh again, she fretted silently. He’ll never tell me about how his day has been. And his twinkling violet eyes will be forever closed. 

Tears streaked down her face. “Gods,” Feyre sobbed quietly. “I never got to tell Rhys that I loved him.” 

She loved him as a friend, loved him as a fierce warrior…she would love him as a prince, gods damn it! It would take some adjustment, but she would endure being looked down upon by the court just to keep Rhys in her life. Feyre allowed herself a good cry over her dinner before pushing on. No more time could be wasted over the past.  

It was easy finding the Forest Palace: metal clashing, shouts, and screams filled the air just on its outskirts. Autumn’s warriors were no match for the Night Kingdom’s army, which had breached the outer gates. And as much as Feyre wanted the Night army to succeed, she was horrified at how Autumn’s warriors were brutally slaughtered. 

Feyre observed it all happen from her perch on a tree. As Night’s forces finished off the Autumn warriors, thick trunks rose out of the ground. Large, sharp thorns curled and twisted upon themselves as the final barrier to the beautiful palace hewn from brown stone.

Not the final barrier. For a tall man with a circlet of gold leaves on his head stood calmly on the front lawn, as if he was utterly unbothered by the frenzied army rushing in his direction. That’s King Beron Vanserra, Feyre realized. 

This man took Rhys from me. 

With that thought in place, Feyre had no qualms about killing him. She adjusted her position in the tree, notching her arrow and drawing her bowstring back. She would shoot him while he was distracted—

But before she could let the arrow fly, Beron Vanserra transformed into a dragon. A muscled, snarling red dragon at least two stories high, complete with huge wings and a gaping maw. Feyre was stunned. It was well-known that the rulers of each land had a beast form, but she had thought dragons were the stuff of legends. Not anymore. 

The Night army balked briefly at Beron Vanserra’s lashing, scaly tail and glowing amber eyes. Then they charged. 

They’re going to die, Feyre realized. They’re all going to die. 

She released the bowstring, aiming poorly in her haste. Her arrow was nothing more than a tiny splinter embedding itself in Beron’s webbed wing when it landed. A split second distraction. Beron opened his gaping maw and bellowed, pure fire exploding forth. 

Feyre gasped. Night’s forces had been incinerated. Completely obliterated. There was nothing left; not even armor. Only the scent of burning flesh hung in the air. 

Cassian and Azriel could have been there, she thought, horrified. Thank the gods Rhys’s friends had been held back. 

Beron roared and blasted another ball of fire into the forest for another good measure. The inferno swept towards Feyre, causing her to shriek and jump out of her tree. Such conflagration would kill anything and everything that lay in its path.

She crouched behind a large boulder, taking aim again. The arrow bounced harmlessly off Beron’s scaly hide. Feyre wanted to scream in frustration. She was normally a good shot, but the dragon seemed impenetrable. And her shitty attempts to kill him had caught his attention. 

Feyre cried in terror as fire blasted the boulder, heating stone and singeing hair as she crouched low. 

“Who goes there?” Beron roared. His voice was not the dominant boom of a human man, but rather a terrifying, guttural voice from the depths of hell.

Feyre strategized quickly: if I can shoot him in the eye, or in the throat, I might have a good chance of surviving. 

Because that was all Feyre wanted to do right now. Survive. 

She took a deep breath, set her sights on the treeline, then took off running. A wall of fire blocked her path. Feyre cried out and reversed direction. Another wall of fire erupted before her. Both closing in, the only way out…the only way out was the dragon. 

She had no choice but to run towards Beron, stopping a good distance away. Still too close, her mind calculated. Not far enough to dodge his spitting flame. 

“And who are you?” 

Feyre realized she was still wearing her cloak. She pulled the hood off, glaring with all the defiance she could muster in her blue-gray eyes. 

Beron Vanserra’s reptilian eyes widened. Then he began to laugh. It was an awful, jeering laugh that paralleled the mocking laughter of the idiotic boys back home. The ones who doubted her, who thought her nothing more than a silly girl playing hunter. 

“A girl? Why, King Cormac and Queen Orla must be desperate sending a scrawny thing like you.” Beron’s guttural voice boomed over the crackling flames. 

“I came on my own!” Feyre shouted defiantly. 

“Ah. So she speaks.” The dragon snickered condescendingly. “Are you the little girl who has been trying to shoot me with those little toothpicks? It’s going to take a lot more than your pathetic arrows to kill me.” 

Calm down, Feyre tried to tell herself. He wants you flustered so you can’t think clearly. 

“I’ve come to take Prince Rhysand back home.” Her voice was shaky. “I demand you release him at once.”

“Demand, hmm? You demand me? Tell me, girl, do you know who I am?” the dragon crooned, lowering his reptilian head to survey Feyre. Feyre stiffened at the sulfurous smoke wafting from Beron’s nostrils, the slitted, snake-like eyes that looked at her as if she was a squashable ant. 

“Give. Him. Back.” She gritted out. She hated the condescending way Beron looked at her. The way he was toying with her, precisely because he knew she posed no threat.

“That young man is of no use to you asleep,” Beron scoffed. “He will be used as a bargaining chip against your King and Queen. Of course…once your dear monarchs allow me into their kingdom to bring back their precious son’s body, I will kill them all.” Feyre flinched at the dragon’s vengeful snarl. 

“I cursed the princeling to fall into a deathless sleep for now. But who says I won’t string him up and parade him around, a little trophy of my victory against Night? Imagine that…the end of the royal bloodline, and the rest of Prythian for the taking once my greatest adversary is dead.” 

Feyre snarled at Beron’s plans for Rhysand. This heinous beast in front of her had targeted Rhys when her friend was only an innocent baby. Had hurt him, and had further plans to hurt those Rhys loved. Remaining calm went out the window.

Something ancient and vicious snapped within Feyre, honing her senses. Beron seemed to sense the shift in the air, for he reared back defensively, swiping at her with a talon. But Feyre was ready. She dropped and rolled forward between the dragon’s legs. 

And brought the Illyrian blade up to slice at Beron’s dragon belly. 

The sharpened blade only managed to cut a shallow incision through his scales. But Beron bellowed with fury, taking to the air with his powerful wings and leaving Feyre exposed to his fire. 

She scrambled, becoming one with the wind as she ran for the treeline. She didn’t think, operating only by instinct. Rage fueled her, a deeply primal emotion that promised retribution for what Beron did to Rhys. 

I am a huntress, and Beron is my prey. I am a huntress, and Beron is my prey. 

Beron’s fire whipped through the woods without remorse for the ancient trees. Feyre dove into a stream for respite from the heat. She scrabbled in her travel bag for anything to help. A very long length of sturdy rope remained. 

Feyre fortified her rope’s strength by twisting the cord into a double stranded length. Her hands deftly knotted one end into a noose. She looped the rope around the trunk of a sturdy tree, hooking both the noose and the loose end into her belt as she ran towards Beron. 

Feyre slung her water canteen round and round as she ran, and released it. The canteen flew straight towards Beron’s face. Taken by surprise, the king took a step back. 

It wasn’t much, but it was precisely what Feyre needed him to do. As soon as his scaled claw foot lifted into the air, Feyre slipped the noose over his ankle and dove underneath him again. 

An inhuman strength seized Feyre. She yanked hard, tripping the beast. Feyre rolled again and righted herself, pulling quickly on the rope with all her might as if she was in a tug-of-war game against Cassian and Azriel. The sturdy tree acted as a fixed pulley, allowing Feyre to put some distance between her and a disheveled Beron as she pulled. 

She marveled at her impossible display of strength; there was no way she could have dragged a thousand pound dragon across the floor like he was a sack of potatoes. It didn’t feel like adrenaline, though. It felt like sheer rage, and a desperate need to protect, to protect, to protect her love. 

Feyre would only have seconds before Beron righted himself, or burned the tree and the rope to cinders. So once she felt the distance was sufficient, she notched her bow one last time, trying to steady shaking hands. 

“This is for Rhys, you bastard!” she shouted.  

The arrow soared silently in the air, piercing Beron’s left eye. The monster roared in agony. Feyre didn’t waste time notching another arrow, letting it fly towards Beron’s screaming—and open—mouth. The arrow hit its target true, embedding itself in the soft tissue in the back of Beron’s throat. 

Another one. I am a huntress, and Beron is my prey. And another one. I am a huntress, and Beron is my prey.

Beron tried to yank the arrows lodged in his throat, but his taloned digits did not have the same dexterity as a human hand. He choked on his own hot red blood as he tried to muster the flames to incinerate the arrows. 

While Beron was preoccupied, Feyre ran around Beron’s fallen and writhing form, Illyrian blade in hand. Thwack! Thwack! Rhysand’s first gift to her wasn’t a proper axe, but it would do the job alright. 

I am a huntress, and Beron is my prey. Feyre alternated between swinging and sawing the sturdy tree, cutting away at its stability with brutal efficiency. Being destitute and having honed her firewood chopping skills over the years had paid off. 

Still acting on instinct, Feyre adjusted the double-corded rope a few feet higher up the trunk, ran as close as she could to Beron, and pulled. The balance of the heavy tree tipped down, down, down onto the dragon. 

The Autumn King only had a moment to realize certain death headed his way before the tree slammed into his neck. The tree killed him with a sharp crack.  

He was truly dead. But Feyre’s job wasn’t done yet. 

She viciously hacked her way through the entanglement of thorny trunks with the Illyrian blade. The space between the twisted trunks was tight, resulting in multiple scratches and rips in her clothes. But she didn’t care. Rhys was up there, in that tower. 

Well, there was nothing remarkable about that particular window. But some gut instinct told her that was where she would find him. Perhaps there would be more sentries to face, but Feyre didn’t care. Nothing would stand between her and Rhys. Nothing. 

Feyre scaled the walls of the Forest Palace, pretending she was climbing an abnormally tall tree. Heights weren’t normally an issue for her, but she’d also never been so high up. She clambered through the open window, adrenaline and primal rage evaporating at the sight of Rhysand’s crumpled body on the wood floor. 

The silver moonlight illuminating his dark and chiseled features only made him more breathtakingly beautiful. 

“Rhys?” Feyre whispered softly, shaking him. Rhysand was still breathing, though his skin was chilled. A deathless sleep, Azriel had said. “Rhys!” Feyre repeated urgently, trying to wake him up. “Oh gods, no. Rhys, wake up. Rhys!”

His beautiful violet eyes remained closed. His features were unresponsive to Feyre’s crying. 

“I love you,” Feyre whispered brokenly, cradling his face to her chest. She’d held the words in for so long, afraid that Rhys would not say them back to her. It seemed like such a silly thing to care about, so reminiscent of a time when she took his presence for granted. And now it was too late. 

Feyre brushed his dark lashes, the full curve of his lips, trying to memorize his face. Trying to remember how he looked when he smiled, when he laughed, and when he was sad. “You can’t leave me,” she sobbed, praying that he could hear her. Just hear me, she begged the gods. Please. 

The primal instinct awakened again inside her, but this time, it was peaceful and loving. A different kind of power. And something silver and sweet, like moonlight, seemed to glow deep in her chest. Feyre clung to Rhys, whispering his name over and over again. 

“Rhys, come back to me.” No response. “Rhys, I love you. Are you in there?” She was going to keep saying it. Keep calling out to him, because she knew he was in there somewhere. “Can you hear me? Hold on, please, please, please. I love you.” Feyre’s hot tears dripped onto Rhysand’s cheeks. 

Bring him back, bring him back. 

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “I love you.” Feyre dipped her head down, closed her eyes, and brushed her lips against his.

***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***🧵***

Read: Ch. 4

Tags: @the-lonelybarricade