#This is just the year when I burst into randomly crying the most often compared to the previous years
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lieutenant-amuel · 2 years ago
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On today’s pedagogy class, we talked about what was happening to us for the whole year and made “a life tree”, and honestly, I didn’t even realize how colourful this year actually was.
#Personal#In terms of my ‘fandom life’ it’s really been so colourful#I made 50 Polish covers (short ones but still)#many fandub projects too#two multilanguages#And one of them even marked the beginning of 2022 for me#Wrote 9 chapters of Was Born To Lead and a Navidad fic about Gabe’s parents and generally I developed my Gabe fic a lot this year#And even took sort of writing requests lol#I also took video requests even though I abandoned it eventually#In terms of my personal life I graduated from school successfully passed my exams and got to the uni I wanted#I made a new friend and she’s awesome#And I got even closer to my online friends and you can’t imagine how much I love you guys#I attended many musicals and finally got to see a performance I wanted for such a long time#I learnt so many things at my university which are either helpful for my future job or simply interesting to me (I also delved into MBTI)#I started learning a new foreign language which is going so-so but at least I also improved my English#And well of course there were many downs as well#This year has been extremely tough for me mentally and there are many many reasons for it#This is just the year when I burst into randomly crying the most often compared to the previous years#Anyway I won’t go too detailed with it because really nobody needs to hear it and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it myself#But well I think I’ll go through this eventually#Anyway this year was nice#And there’s also my birthday soon yeaaaah#I’m excited
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minmotl · 4 years ago
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Chapter 30: Sui Zhou is Upset That Tang Fan Wants Him to Marry
Context: Follows directly after Chapter 29. We left off at Sui Zhou bringing Tang Fan home to see his grandmother. Grandmother loves Tang Fan and after the dinner, Sui Zhou is unhappy that Tang Fan is pushing for him to get married. At the end of this chapter, Sui Zhou is called away for business and Tang Fan ends up being taken to the palace by Wang Zhi.
Introduction Post | Masterpost
Highlights under the cut
Sui Zhou says this in such a domineering manner that everyone is stunned speechless for a moment, glaring at Sui Zhou.
This is not Tang Fan’s place to say anything. In the first place, he does not have any right to speak out, but this does not hinder him from habitually using the eyes he usually applies on his cases to analyse the personalities of the people before him. Brushing his eyes past them, from the way they talk and act, plenty is revealed.
For example, Sui Zhou’s parents are both honest people, otherwise when Sui Zhou’s sister-in-law Lady Jiao spoke, Sui Zhou’s mother would have spoken out to stop her. And also, taking a look at Sui Zhou’s brother and the way he kept mum, this is actually quite similar to the way Sui Zhou is, but Sui Zhou doesn’t speak because he finds no need to. When he is analysing a case and is required to speak, he always says only as much as is necessary, while Sui Zhou’s brother seems to simply be a man of few words and is quiet out of character and habit.
Tang Fan shakes his head inwardly. He heard Sui Zhou say before that Sui An wanted to take the Imperial Examination, but with this kind of personality, even if he manages to get lucky and is selected, it’s likely that he would not last as an official for long. Which high-ranking official is fond of a subordinate who refuses to speak?
Compared to her husband, Lady Jiao is talkative and knows how to adapt to her situation, but she’s too eager to bring attention to herself. Her elders are both honest people and cannot keep her in check, so she probably does as she wants when she’s at home. No wonder Sui Zhou ended up moving out.
With Sui Zhou’s declaration, Tang Fan can no longer keep silent. Taking a step forward, he puts up both his hands in greeting to Madam Zhou, “I am Tang Fan, courtesy name Run Qing. Madam Zhou you can just call me Run Qing. I am a judge at Shun Tian Prefecture and a good friend of Guang Chuan’s. Today I’ve brought my younger sister Ah Dong to celebrate Madam Zhou’s birthday, I wish Madam Zhou an abundance of fortune and to live a long life.”
Ah Dong greets Madam Zhou obediently as well, “A thousand fortunes for Madam Zhou.”
Then, she brings the present they brought with them to Madam Zhou.
Madam Zhou laughs openly, “Good, good! Since you are close to our family, then there is no need to be too fussy. It’s so rare for my Ah Zhou to bring a friend home and wish me well for my birthday, I can tell that you must be a good child. The young lady looks beautiful and smart, this is good, this is good!”
It is a popular trend in recent years to open gifts in front of everyone as it doesn’t matter if the gift is cheap or expensive, as long as it is well-thought out, the person celebrating their birthday would be happy.
Lady Jiao takes the gift box and pulls at the string over the box, opening it. She sees a Longevity Peach carved out of jade. The colour of the jade is warm and the item is both intricate and cute. The size of a palm, it’s most suited to be played with in one’s hands.
For Madam Zhou’s birthday, the palace also sent some gifts over, but she has been frugal all her life and does not wish to announce it, so her birthday banquet simply involves her daughter’s family and a dinner. Seeing this gift, Madam Zhou is both stunned and flattered, “It’s good enough that you came, why did you splurge on such an expensive gift?”
Tang Fan smiles, “I didn’t spend any money on it. I don’t mind letting Madam Zhou know that my salary is low, if I really was to buy it I wouldn’t be able to afford it. This Longevity Peach is an heirloom passed down in my family, and since my parents and elders are no longer around, I took it out as a gift to give to you, I hope Madam Zhou does not refuse or dislike this gift!”
He may have said this humbly, but just from the colour composition of the jade, Sui Zhou knows that the price of this jade peach is not cheap and it looks like the jade has aged well. To be able to collect and keep something like this, it’s clear that the Tang family was well off.
From this gift, it is enough to see the Tang Fan’s thoughts and well wishes.
Madam Zhou is the Empress Dowager’s sister and the Sui family as seen plenty of powerful officials and wealthy individuals. The Ming dynasty also has a tradition of respecting the elderly, so instances of an old lady yelling at an official on the streets, lambasting them to the extent of carriages carrying officials having to move around the elderly are possible. When Sui Zhou first introduced Tang Fan as a judge from Shun Tian Prefecture, the Sui family was not the slightest bit shocked. After all, Sui Zhou’s father and brother both have titles within the ranks of the Embroidered Uniform Guards.
With this jade longevity peach however, Lady Jiao takes the hint and shuts up.
Madam Zhou is still shaking her head, “Don’t spend so much money the next time! It’s good enough that you are visiting. I’m really happy to see the both of you!”
Tang Fan grins, “That’s where you’re wrong, Madam Zhou. When it comes to your eightieth, ninetieth birthdays in the future, not only will I spend, but I will spend even more! When that time comes, I will find a bigger longevity peach for Madam Zhou!”
Madam Zhou is so tickled by that, that she burst out in laugher, “Such a glib tongue, Run Qing. You’re more than a hundred times sweeter than Ah Zhou and Ah An. It must have difficult for you to be able to be friends with Ah Zhou. If he bullies you, you must tell me, I will support you!”
Listening to this, why does Tang Fan feel as if he’s about to marry Sui Zhou? Then again, he supposes that Madam Zhou is already so old, sometimes she may speak without thinking, and so Tang Fan brushes the comment off with a smile.
Although it is a family banquet, but the dishes on the table were obviously intricately cooked. While the Sui family isn’t fond of words, with Tang Fan around, he manages to entertain Madam Zhou well. Sui Zhou’s sister Sui Bi is older than Ah Dong is by a few years, but the two young ladies become fast friends and shortly after begin to talk in low voices with one another.
In comparison, Sui Zhou’s parents and older brother look to be guests at the table instead. They don’t say much and concentrate on eating from the start to the end. Lady Jiao of course wants to interrupt and say something, but Madam Zhou seems to not be fond of speaking to her. Holding Tang Fan’s hand, she continues to talk to him. Once she hears that Tang Fan’s parents died early and his older sister is married off out of the city, and moreover, Tang Fan has yet to marry, she sighs, “What a poor thing. Being an official in Jing city all on your own, and you don’t even have a soulmate to accompany you at your side no matter what. Someone of your character, I’m guessing the matchmaking ladies must have been dying to step through your doors. What kind of women do you like? Come, tell me, I’ll help you look around!”
Once Tang Fan hears this, his skin goes numb and quickly, he uses Sui Zhou as his shield, “Madam Zhou, I remember that Guang Chuan seems to be older than me by a few years, I’m sure he’s more eager to get married than I am?”
He’s just finished speaking when he feels someone staring at him from the side, obviously unhappy with the way Tang Fan is creating trouble for him by diverting it from himself to Sui Zhou.
“Run Qing has high expectations, don’t randomly connect the red string for him,” Sui Zhou speaks, finally shifting the old woman’s attention from Tang Fan to him.
Madam Zhou is unhappy with what he said, “Nonsense, will you not marry if you have high expectations? It’s no trouble for me to go and find the Empress Dowager and let her pick some, if he doesn’t like a common woman, I’m sure a princess or a royal member will do?”
Tang Fan doesn’t know whether to cry or laugh and is about to stop her, but Lady Jiao sourly half jokes, “Madam Zhou you’re really biased. You haven’t known Run Qing for even half a day and you’re already helping him to find a match, if people didn’t know, they would think you took in another grandson!”
Madam Zhou chuckles, “Run Qing this child and I get along well, so what if I play matchmaker for him? Don’t tell me you want this too? I’m of course more than happy to get Ah An someone from the royal family, but then you’ll have to give up your position, no?”
At that, Lady Jiao becomes silent.
Tang Fan manages to convince Madam Zhou to dismiss the idea for now, and after the meal, Ah Dong and Sui Bi look to be getting along well as well, and so she’s invited to stay for the rest of the day. Tang Fan and Sui Zhou then bid Madam Zhou farewell with the promise of coming to visit her often, and it’s only then they are allowed to leave.
After exiting the house, Tang-daren wipes at his cold sweat, “Guang Chuan, the old lady in your family is really persistent. Luckily I did not give in, otherwise Madam Zhou would really have gone into the palace and asked for a princess from the Empress Dowager for me!”
“Is a princess no good?” asks Sui Zhou.
It sounds as if Sui Zhou is teasing him, but the man’s face is cold as ice, even the way he speaks is cold and without feeling. However, Tang Fan has long gotten used to this poker face of his and does not mind, only shaking his head with a laugh.
Is marrying a princess good or not? All women that exist are precious and treasured despite their status and are naturally good. However, becoming a Prince Consort by marrying a princess, this means he will not be able to participate in politics. Even those who were originally officials will have to quit their roles and go home, but this rule is aimed only at civil officials. For officials in the military, this rule is not enforced as strictly. For example, the Prince Consort Jing Yuan who died protecting the late Emperor during the Tu Mu Fortress Rebellion was also an official and was allowed to lead the army during wars.
However, for civil officials this is a death sentence! After marrying a woman from the royal family, their careers are as good as dead, so men with ambition see marrying women from the royal family as turning their backs on their careers. While Tang Fan does not obsess over his position, but he has after all studied so hard for more than a decade, all to continue on his life’s path to service the people and be able to do something for them.
After their meal, they steadily walk back home in the direction of their house to digest the food they just ate. Their steps are slow and steady, as if they are very relaxed and free.
Tang Fan then teases him, “But Madam Zhou said something right. You’re not young anymore, you should be getting married. Don’t wait a few more years and by then no one will want you.”
Sui Zhou glances at him, “You truly wish for me to get married?”
Without waiting for him to reply, Sui Zhou adds, “If I marry, you will have to move out.”
Tang Fan nods, “That makes sense, after all, we have to prevent tongues from wagging.”
“You’ll have to find a house on your own.”
“Houses in Jing city are really hard to find,” Tang Fan sighs.
“In a few years, when Ah Dong is old enough to marry, you’ll have to cook by yourself again.”
“That makes sense…” Then he considers that again and finds that the prediction is wrong, and adds, “Then I can go find one to marry too, no?”
“And let her find out that you’re writing erotica fiction, and that it’s selling pretty well?”
“…”
“Or maybe you’d like to explore further with her, let her write some, so that she can contribute to the family expenses as well.”
Tang Fan laughs, “It wouldn’t be so bad?”
“Judging from your current salary, aside from your massive food expenses whenever you run out to eat, when Ah Dong marries, you still have to put together a dowry for her and then after you get married, you will need to feed one more person. When you have children, that’s even more mouths to feed.”
The more Tang-daren hears, the greener his face becomes.
Sui Zhou continues to analyse it, “And it’s also likely that you will end up marrying someone like my sister-in-law, if our wife is not virtuous, that is disaster for the family that will end up harming your children and grandchildren.”
“Don’t say anymore,” Tang-daren says weakly, “Marrying a woman is so scary, I think I won’t marry any time soon.”
Sui-baihu makes a noise of assent, his expression stern and firm, obviously having the same thoughts as Tang Fan.
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frankchurchillsaysrelax · 6 years ago
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build a bridge to my heart and lead the way
 part one
Alex has never been a huge fan of metaphors. He’s always preferred a more straightforward approach to the world, even more so since he’s been back home.
But there has never been anything straightforward about his feelings for Michael. So here he is, alone in his bed comparing their relationship to his missing leg. That afternoon in the tool shed, a lifetime ago and yet all too recent in his mind, had injured them irrevocably. The tentative possibility of something more was dealt a blow at the hands of his father.
For a decade they’d avoided the issue, letting the pain fester in the prolonged periods of separation. Sex had been their crutch, had kept the connection between them from falling apart for all those years without ever having to talk or heal.
Now they are here, finally building a foundation and standing on their own, adjusting to their new normal as friends. He tells himself not to push them too fast, knowing from his actual leg that rushing the process just leaves you laid out on your ass and hurting.
Days like today make the temptation to take that next step unbearable. Closing his eyes he can perfectly see the way the sunlight caught the hidden golden highlights in Michael’s hair and the column of his throat enticingly exposed whenever his head was thrown back in laughter, something Alex is proud to say was often.
Walking through town at the latest alien themed festival, avoiding Isobel and her eagerness to put them to work, had felt natural and innocuous. The day had been warmer than normal for the time of year and Michael’s bare arm had brushed against his as they walked close together even in less crowded areas. Skin electrified under the slightest touch, Alex had needed to remind himself not to grab his hand.
Michael had stepped away whenever they were approached by one of his father’s friends, always staying close and ready to rejoin him after he’d fulfilled his dutiful politeness. At one point while talking about his plans for retirement, he’d watched peripherally as Liz and Maria had cornered him by one of the booths. Michael had brushed it off when he’d asked and Alex hoped they hadn’t moved onto harassing him about the status of their relationship. They had already been bothering Alex for weeks.
Giving up on the prospect of sleep, he sits up and pauses before making his decision. He pulls on the sock and fastens the prosthetic into place before grabbing a jacket and his keys and walking out the front door. Suddenly the cabin is too secluded, too remote.
He’s halfway there before he’s aware of where his mind has taken him on autopilot. He isn’t really surprised, but he is wary. It’s after two in the morning and he wouldn’t blame him for turning him away. He follows the familiar route back to where Michael parks his airstream. The headlights track the graveyard of broken vehicles, markers leading him to his destination.
He turns the lights off as soon as he sees them gleam off the side of the trailer, staying put while he tries to make a plan. He is just exiting the car when the door to the swings open revealing Michael wearing nothing but boxers, rubbing the side of his face in a listless gesture. Alex takes a few steps closer so he is more easily visible.
“Alex?” He moves down onto the top step. “You ok?”
Alex opens his mouth but still doesn’t have the words to explain his presence. He offers an unhelpful shrug.
Michael glances down at his mostly naked body before taking a step back inside. He gestures toward the fire pit. “Get a fire started, I’ll be right out.”
Happy to have a task, Alex makes quick work of following orders. He has claimed his favorite lawn chair, the one he knows is most comfortable to get up from on his leg, when the door swings open again. It’s a long moment before Michael reappears, holding two mugs and closing the door behind him with his mind.
He sits in the chair closest to Alex before passing him one of the mugs. He offers the black one with a little green alien and Alex smiles, humming in happiness when the smell of chocolate hits his nose.
“Thanks.”
Michael nods with a tired smile and Alex feels guilty for waking him. They sit in silence, Michael shifting in his seat trying to get comfortable and Alex blowing on his too hot drink wondering if he should just leave. He steals a glance at Michael, now fully covered in a long sleeve shirt and jeans but no less beautiful to Alex.
This is what he wants. Quiet nights spent in each other’s company with nothing but nature’s soundtrack and a warm fire surrounding them. But he knows they’re not quite there yet.
“Twenty questions.”
“Light as a feather stiff as a board.” Michael laughs at the confused look on Alex’s face. “Oh, sorry, are we not randomly naming middle school sleepover games?”
Alex rolls his eyes and brings his mug closer to his face hiding his flushing cheeks behind the steam. He’s not sure where the idea came from but it’s growing on him. “Humor me, Guerin.”
Michael takes a sip from his own mug, lips quirking into a teasing smile.
“Liz and Deluca put you up to this? Did they dare you?” He shakes his head in mock sympathy. “You shoulda picked truth man.”
Alex ignores the gibe. “What do you mean did they put me up to it?”
Michael waves a hand, his eyes focused on the fire. “They were just being annoying earlier. Thought maybe they’d cornered you too.” He doesn’t elaborate, evading the topic as he had this afternoon, but Alex can guess the kinds of things the girls had said to him. He's starting to wonder if they have money on this.
Silence falls between them as they absorb the warmth of the flames and the hot cocoa. Michael has added some kind of spice, nutmeg, he thinks. Alex has no clue where he’d found it in the airstream but he’s glad he’d thought of it.
“Ok ok, I’ll play along.” Alex startles and then settles back into his seat feeling smug. Michael is just too easy sometimes.
“Favorite movie?”
Michael looks down into his mug like it holds the secrets to the universe.The firefight casts shadows across his face but Alex would wager a guess that he is blushing. “October Sky. Favorite song?”
“You’re a sadist.” Michael looks up with a surprised laugh and can’t hide his smile. Alex groans. “Ok, um,” he pauses, thumbs tapping against his mug while he tries to narrow down his choice. “First Day of My Life. Bright Eyes.”
“Random.” Michael tilts his head to the side, not judging just taking the information in. “I like it.”
They go back and forth like that for a while, asking trivial things and laughing as the fire slowly burns down. Without asking, Michael adds some more wood when it gets too low, wordlessly telling Alex to stay.
Alex flounders for his next question. Mug long since emptied and set to the side, his hands start tapping out a beat on his legs. He will never run out of things he wants to know about Michael, he’s sure of that, but he’s getting tired and also trying to avoid anything too deep. Tonight isn’t the night for those conversations.
“How did you know about light as a feather stiff as a board?” Maria had made him and Liz play it once when they were kids. She’d been so upset when it didn’t work.
Michael’s content smile turns mischievous and he looks up at him from beneath his eyelashes. Alex probably shouldn’t be as attracted to him as he is right now.
“Max and I would sneak down into the Evans’ basement to spy on Izzy and her friends sometimes. One time we came down and one of the girls was laying there with her eyes closed while the others surrounded her. Max thought they were doing some kind of ritualistic sacrifice.” He snorts, shaking his head fondly at the happy memory of his brother.
“When they started chanting I caught on and I used my powers to lift her, just a couple of inches. Oh man, did they freak.” Alex loves seeing the unbridled joy on Michael’s face as he loses himself in the memory of a time when he and his siblings could just be kids. He knows how rare moments like that were for him.
“So you’ve always been a menace to society,” he quips.
Michael throws him a wink, looking way too proud of himself. “If there wasn’t proof I came from the stars, you’d think I’d popped up straight outta hell.”
Still smiling, his right hand absentmindedly moves to rub at the inside of his left forearm. It’s something he’s seen Michael do a handful of times over the years but he's never been able to figure out what triggers it or if he even knows he is doing it. He files it away as one of the more serious questions he’ll ask when he’s feeling brave.
“Wait.” Something clicks in his tired brain and he glares at Michael. “Was Maria there?”
Michael’s eyes squint as he drifts back into the memory. “Maybe? It’s possible, there was that brief blip where she and Is actually liked each other.” His eyes widen as Alex glares harder. “What?”
“She couldn’t get it to work with me. I had to buy her ice cream so she wouldn’t cry!”
Michael shakes his head, grin wider than before. “I’ll buy you an ice cream to make up for it, huh?”
His smile radiates and the waves roll onto Alex forcing him to drop the charade. “Well it’s the least you can do.”
Michael’s laugh is consumed by a yawn he tries to hide by turning his head, but reality crashes down around Alex and he remembers where they are. He’s imposing and although Michael won’t say it he knows he’s stayed too long.
“I should let you get back to sleep.” He stands before Michael can say anything, but he doesn’t even try, just looks up at Alex from behind drooping eyelids. Alex wants to kiss him goodbye. He wants to kiss him good night and he wants to kiss him good morning. He really needs to leave.
Walking towards his car, he stops and turns back when Michael calls his name.
Michael’s head tilts to one side as his eyes rake over him from head to toe sending a shiver down Alex’s spine and a burst of warmth to his gut at the same time.
“You sure you’re ok?”
“I am now.” With a small wave he turns quickly and practically jumps into his car.
Driving in the opposite direction, his eyes barely stray from the mirror where Michael’s figure grows smaller and further away until he extinguishes the fire, disappearing into the darkness.
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thetaboochristian · 5 years ago
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Anger: The Double Edged Sword That Can Save Or Destroy Your Life (Sometimes Simultaneously)
When I was a little kid, I used to get angrier than most of the other kids I knew in school. I didn’t know why necessarily, but it seemed reasonable because people kept messing with me, picking on me, people kept doing things that I told them made me made and they never even cared or tried to stop. When I was a kid, I just figured that my anger was a normal, natural result of what happens when people keep on and on and on with some crazy BS until someone reaches their breaking point. Or, somebody does something that seems to pose an immediate, serious threat to the wellbeing of the person who’s getting angry. 
I discovered as I got older though that my dad had these characteristics, but worse. Then when I had my son, I noticed that he had an extra bad temper compared to most other kids… he would get super upset about 100 tiny things every single day that no one else would think are such a big deal, like toys not working the way he wants or me missing one of the 100000000000000000000 things that he points at randomly throughout the day and asks “what’s that”? He is especially prone to do this while I’m driving and can’t stop or look at whatever it is. He even had to be given morphine in the hospital when he was born because he was so upset and wouldn’t stop crying for so long. Don’t even get me started on what happened regarding the hospital, his mom, and his birth... that’s going to be included in my “Taboo Christian” book when it comes out. 
It was not long after my son began doing this that I finally discovered that the anger issue and emotional oversensitivity was something genetic that had come from my dad’s side of the family. The thing is, I seemed to have less frequent expression of it and higher stress tolerance than my dad or son. I believe that the anger thing came from my dad’s mom, but her husband was pretty angry too so maybe my dad got a double dose. I guess I got a half dose because my mom almost never gets angry, even to the point where it’s problematic, where she doesn’t get angry about things that she should get angry about! 
Even when I figured out that there was a genetic cause, I never knew the biological mechanism behind it, but now I’m really close to understanding it. It seems that our bodies either release an unreasonably high level of norepinephrine and epinephrine during certain stressful events, or our bodies cause these neurotransmitters to stay in our system and not be broken down nearly as fast as they should be. It’s also a possibility that DHT levels are abnormally high or that our bodies turn testosterone into DHT at an abnormally high rate. Also, above average levels of acetylcholine or glutamate could also play a role in the emotional sensitivity… it could be a mixture of more than one of these things that’s really responsible.
Even though there have been times where our anger caused problems, problems can occur when anyone gets angry, and that happens to everyone. There have been instances however where I can look back and see how my anger helped save my life! It caused me to no longer tolerate some things that were seriously destroying my life, increasingly quickly as time went on. I believe that when someone or multiple people in your life are causing you serious problems and they are preventable/avoidable, and the person continually refuses to acknowledge how they are hurting you or refuses to try to fix the problem, then an a short moment of loudly chewing them out may be the only way to get the point across or stand your ground when more calm and tame methods of problem resolution have failed to work with that person who’s doing you wrong.
Obviously, if you can avoid conflict or resolve it peacefully then that is almost always best, but if calm methods fail, and the continuing problem is destroying your health, finances, sanity, etc, then continuing to sit by and passively let yourself get ruined by someone else’s evil or ignorance is ludicrous! Absolutely ludicrous! 
If someone in your family thinks they know better than you and really doesn’t, and if they keep terrorizing you with constant bombardment of their well intentioned but destructive opinions of what they think you should do with your life, sometimes there’s no other choice but to cut them out of your life for a while until things settle down and you are able to figure out a way to interact with them peaceably… if it’s possible at all. Some people just don’t want to admit when they are wrong, no matter what. 
This happened recently with my dad. We used to have a good relationship, but it’s come up and down over the years with some lengthy periods of us not talking because it’s impossible to talk to him without him trying to force his wrong ideas upon your life and then getting angry if you don’t agree with him and won’t do what he says. He thinks he knows what’s best. He has a master’s degree. He has made $60-90K a year for the majority of his career. However, though he affirms to hold the basic beliefs of a Christian as far as Jesus being the son of God and dying for our sins and being the only way to heaven, my dad doesn’t really have much of a spiritual view or concept of life beyond that. My dad is absolutely consumed by “worldly thinking” and “man’s way of reasoning” and he has no concept of God’s Will for my life or anyone else’s life. 
Many Christians know all too well that God’s ways are not always our ways and that His reasoning does not always follow our reasoning. My dad cannot seem to grasp this. He cannot seem to grasp that there are certain circumstances that occurred over the years that were beyond my control that are partly responsible for where I am today in life, financially, socially, health wise, etc. My dad cannot seem to grasp that it’s most likely that it was God’s Will that am where I am right now, doing what I’m doing right now, and planning what I’m planning for the future. My dad just can’t seem to understand that if God wants something to happen in my life with 100% definite certainty, He is going to intervene and shape my circumstances in whatever was He needs to in order to make His Will come to pass in my life, IF I’m open to it and willing to do my part to cooperate with Him in bringing it to pass. That means working when and where He knows is best, it means putting forth my standards and expectations to those around me and not caving in or compromising on them just because they don’t fit or match what the people around me think is best or reasonable, or whatever. Sure, I’m realistic in my expectations and what I ask from God, but I also know that God has taken people from rags to riches very quickly in many cases, and God has done miracles in people’s lives in modern times that are almost as awesome as what He did in the Bible. 
It is also possible for everyone that there are some things that are such a concrete part of God’s Will that they will happen no matter what a person does. Where I’m saying that anger can save and destroy at the same time is like with my relationship with my dad. Because of the characteristics I described above about him, he kept on and kept on and kept on until I finally snapped and said some really hurtful things to him, one of which I didn’t really mean to say but it just slipped out in anger. This made him leave and we haven’t spoken in almost 2 months now because of it. Though I regret that one thing I said to him, and I regret having cussed a few times, the majority of what I said to him while in my anger was stuff that he NEEDED to hear. It was me putting my foot down to protect my son and my life, my livelihood and plan for the future, and to show my dad that he had violated major boundaries. My dad has worldly, humanistic reasons why he thinks my current choices and past ones regarding my job and schooling are bad, but I know that they are part of God’s plan and I can clearly see how and why God crafted my life the way He has thus far. While I acknowledge that I’ve made some bad decisions, I can see how and why God allowed me to make them and how God chose to use them to pave a way forward for me that’s better than I probably could have had without making those mistakes.
Seriously though, I get angry a lot less often than most people. It takes a lot more BS to make me mad than the average person, but I’m like a quick burst of intense flame when major boundary lines have been crossed or something major is threatening to harm me or my loved ones and has a considerable chance of succeeding if I don’t step in and do something. I can admit though that in the moment, I’m usually completely absent minded about the thought of God supernaturally protecting me with Angels, intervening on my behalf to fix problems, etc. In the moment I am just thinking that it’s up to me or it’s not going to get resolved at all. I am working on strengthening myself so that I can think more about the realities of the spirit world before I tackle a problem while steaming, but it’s something that will take time. However, there’s a certain amount of fierceness that needs to be available and kept locked away inside for use in the right time and place, so that my loved ones can see for themselves just how serious I am about protecting them with all my might.
I do still plan to try to reconcile with my dad, but right now, with all the difficult circumstances I’m in the midst of overcoming at this moment, trying to talk to my dad would only make my days more difficult and drain me of the focus and energy I need to fix all the current problems in my life surrounding my divorce from “Rebecca”, things regarding my son “Aaron”, and other major life changes. My dad just has this “my way or the highway” view, and there’s no reasoning with him. It just wouldn’t be a smart idea to try to work things out with him until these major issues in my life are resolved, because the process of reconciliation with him will likely be long, stressful, painful and emotional. Despite the current stresses, I know that I’m in the process of overcoming, and slowly but surely (and sometimes quickly) God is bringing about a future for me that’s growing more beautiful with every passing week, month and year.
Thanks for reading, God Bless! “Luke Davidson” - The Taboo Christian
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kristannafever-fics · 6 years ago
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Unknown Fate - Part One
KRISTANNA WEEK 2018 ~ Nov 6th - Prompt: Shelter
Kristanna Canon Divergence AU (Multi-Chapter)
Rated: T
WC: 4108
~ Okay, I started writing this in the late summer based solely on this opening scene when it randomly popped into my head one day, therefore I apologize ahead of time for the disjointed and weak plot that accompanies it, lol!  But hey it fits with today’s prompt!
_______________
Anna never thought she’d find herself in the streets without a home, begging for scraps that no one could afford to give.   As the crown Princess of Arendelle, she never thought she would ever want for simple things, like food and shelter.
How the tables could turn…
Now she was nothing but a homeless beggar.  A vagrant. Someone with no practical skills in which to get herself a job, forced to live on the streets, unable to support herself in the most basic of ways.  Maybe if she had left with more than just the clothes on her back she could have figured something out.  She supposed she should feel lucky to even have made it out alive.  She should be grateful.
Instead she was filled with fear and anger to accompany the constant ache of her hunger.
Sometimes she got lucky. Every once in a while, a merchant would take pity on her, throwing some stale bread at her feet.  Most of the time she was simply told to move along and stop chasing away paying customers.
If only they knew…
Nights once spent in the castle, warm in her lavish bed with a fire burning brightly in the hearth, were now replaced by cold, sleepless nights in which she shivered uncontrollably, stomach cramping painfully from hunger.  
Once upon a time she used to think she knew what hunger felt like.  It was but a papercut compared to the gaping wound of pain in her abdomen now.  
That was why she had come to the market to steal.  She was too hungry to try and beg for hours.  She already saw her target; a bag of food hanging from a sled.  The last stall at the market was an easy getaway. Just take it and run.
Anna eyed the apple and the carrots, saliva pooling in her mouth.  How long had it been since she’d had a fresh piece of fruit or veg?  She couldn’t remember.  Maybe she should beg.  Surely the man could spare a single carrot for her.  Or the apple?
Anna licked her lips at the thought of biting into its shiny red skin.
The man suddenly turned around and Anna changed her position, shrinking back against the wall and dropping her eyes.  She never felt his gaze on her, probably too focused on setting up to notice a lowly peasant woman.   She had begged and stolen from enough merchants to recognize when they were paying her attention or not.
The big blond turned back and hopped up into the sleigh, moving more ice blocks to the back for easier access.  Anna surveyed the bag of food again.  It was too close to him for her not to be caught red handed.  She needed him to be distracted.  She needed someone to buy ice from him.
It was early however and the market had barely opened.  She knew she would have to wait, despite the sharp pain in her belly.  Lucky she was good at biding her time.  She had more practice in that than she ever thought she would.
She resigned to watch him from the corner of her eye.  After he seemed to have the ice where he wanted it, the hard-working purveyor stood and wiped a forearm across his brow.  Anna couldn’t remember a time when she had seen a man so big.  When she was young, to her the guards in the castle had always seemed like big, barrel chested, impossibly strong men.  This guy almost to put them to shame.  She didn’t want to steal from him, she didn’t want to steal from anybody really, but she wouldn’t dare to beg this man.  If the scowl he’d been wearing on his face was any indication, she would likely be told to scram if she asked for a single carrot.
It wasn’t like she was going to steal that much.   Just grab the apple and run.  Okay, maybe a carrot too, but that was all.  She was almost positive with the size of the man that there would be plenty more in the bottom of the sack.  Maybe some dried meats, or some fresh rolls, or perhaps – gasp –  even a pastry!?
Anna gripped her middle as her stomach rumbled painfully.  Best not to think about such delicacies.  
Instead she thought about the past.
The events of that day felt like an eternity ago.  The gates were finally open for her sister’s coronation.  Open for the first time that Anna could even remember.  She was headed out into the town to enjoy her exuberance. She was almost free too, when she was summoned back into the castle to prepare for the ceremony at the last minute.  She didn’t even know why she had to be there. No one gave her anything to do. All she was tasked with, was where to stand.  Apparently, Elsa didn’t even think she would get that right as Kai went over with her again the precise events of the coronation.
Late at nights, when she was too cold to sleep, Anna would often wonder what would have happened had she been able to explore the kingdom that afternoon.  Maybe she would have been able to talk to a few people and work out the nervous jitters from having no one to converse with except for staff and the paintings in the castle gallery for all those years.  Would she have been less awkward with the gorgeous man who approached her during the dance?  Maybe.  Probably. Instead she had gotten tongue tied and the dashing, young man – although he had laughed it off – gave Anna the feeling that she was making a fool of herself.  
Flustered and impossibly embarrassed, she had disappeared down the expansive halls and out onto the roof where she went to be alone.  
Staring up into the starry sky that night, she wondered what was going to become of her sister now that she was Queen.  Anna had no doubt that she would close the gates again.  Could Anna really live like that the rest of her life?  Shut off from the world again.  Alone.  She didn’t think so.
In truth, she knew she couldn’t.  She simply could not live like that anymore.
This night was her one chance.  Her once chance to branch out and try to change the way things had been since she could remember.   She had to go back to the party and try again.
Wiping the tears from her eyes, she put a smile on her face and headed back down to the ball, only to find out that people were leaving as Elsa had put an early end to the festivities.
Feeling ill, was her excuse. She was no longer in the ball room when Anna returned.  Anna knew she would be in her expansive room, the one her parents used to have, doing Gods knows what.
The thing that absolutely crushed her soul, was to see the lovely green eyes of the dashing, auburn-haired fellow being ushered out of the main entrance, looking at her with clear regret and a hint of longing.
If only she had stayed! If only she had simply sucked it up and laughed off her own awkwardness to continue talking to him.  She suddenly realized that living in the castle walls without companionship since her parents died, had left her completely naive to normal social interaction.
And where was Elsa through all of this?  Locked tightly away in her room, shutting her out like always.  
Anna’s anger boiled over and she stormed up the stairs, finally ready to unleash her emotions on her sister.  She was not prepared to see what she did when opened the door to his sisters room without knocking…
“Ay, how much for a block?”
Anna had been so caught up in the past that she didn’t even realize the blond had a customer.  This was going to be her only chance.  She needed to act fast or she was going to starve all day.
Quick and quiet, she tiptoed up to the side of the sled as the big guy turned to talk to the customer. She didn’t pay attention to what they were saying, it didn’t matter.  She was focused on grabbing the food and slipping away unnoticed.
Anna ducked when she got closer, hunching forward as she crept slowly ahead along the front of the sled. She was so close.  She reached up and grasped the apple, prepared to turn around immediately, when she hesitated.  She was just so hungry, she reached up with her other hand and grabbed however many carrots she could manage in her tiny palm.  She was turning to escape when someone suddenly grasped her forearm.
She looked down at the big, warm hand clamped on her arm, then followed it up to the frowning face of the man who was selling ice.
“What do you think you are doing?” he growled.
This was not the first time she had been caught.  She immediately turned on the waterworks.
“Please, sir.  I am sorry,” she cried quietly, making herself tear up.  “I am just a lowly beggar in need of food.”
“You’re a thief,” he countered calmly, his frown deepening.
“I’m so hungry,” Anna pleaded, ready to amp up her voice and wail if it was called for.
That’s when his eyes changed and his face softened with them.
“I would have given them to you if you had asked,” he sighed, releasing her arm.
Anna’s first instinct was to run.  Run away and find a corner to fill her belly with ravenous teeth.  Instead she paused, taken aback by the reaction she had never gotten before.
“Go on, take what you need,” he gestured to the sack on the sled.  “You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”
Anna suddenly burst into real tears.  She had forgotten what simple kindness felt like.  She suddenly felt terrible for every morsel of food that she had ever stolen, even if it had saved her life more than once.  She would have dropped the apple as she collapsed onto her knees, had she not been so aware of how valuable fresh food could be.  
“Forgive me,” she wailed, snot bubbling from her nose as tears spilled mercilessly from her closed lids. “I don’t mean to steal, I am just so hungry.  Please forgive me,” she choked.  
“Hey, hey, hey,”
She suddenly realized that she could feel the heat pouring off of him and the breath of his speech on her cheek.  “Stop, okay? I’m not mad, just, please stop crying!” he hissed.  “You’re making a scene!”
Anna pulled in gulps of air until she was able to control her sobs.  When she thought she had herself under control, she finally opened her eyes and looked up at his face.
The compassion from his brown eyes nearly took her breath away.  He was kneeling with his big forearm bracing himself on his other bent leg, looking at her closely.  When was the last time someone had looked at her so closely?  No one ever gave her a second glance.  People could barely even look at her for how dirty and disheveled she had become.  Often times they would sneer at her when shooing her away or throwing her scraps that were headed for the garbage.
Why was this man so different?
They both turned when someone cleared their throat.  The big man took to his feet to attend to the customer while Anna remained where she was, too stunned from the interaction to move.  It took hardly any time before the blond came back and sat down beside her with a sigh as he leaned his back against the wheel of the sled and propped his elbows on his folded knees.
“Everyone is giving me gears about my prices this morning,” he grumbled.  “When they get to the end of the market they’ll end up buying from the other guys even though my prices are lower, just because they don’t want to double back.”
Anna watched as he studied his own hands while he spoke.  They were large, his fingers thick and covered with callouses. Working-man’s hands.  She’d never seen hands like his up close.
“I’ve been there,” he offered quietly when Anna didn’t respond.  “I’ve been desperate and hungry.  It sucks.”  He finally turned and looked at her, eyes so kind that Anna wanted to cry again.  “I’m here every couple of days.  Next time just come and ask, I’ll give you whatever you need.”
Without another word he lumbered to his feet and walked around the side of the sled to peddle his ice. Anna waited a moment but he never came back.  She finally got up and took a brisk pace away from the market to a place she liked to sleep in a forgotten stable of a run-down Inn.  
When she had settled herself in the filthy corner of a horse stall, she looked down at the apple and carrots in her hands.  They might as well have been gold they were so valuable to her.  Still, she regretting taking them even after the stranger told her to help herself.
She might have pondered him further had she not been able to smell the apple in her lap.  She picked it up with a dirty hand and lifted it to her mouth, taking one last pause to appreciate it before she bit into the flesh.
It was so crisp!  So sweet!  Her eyes rolled back into her head and she let out a guttural moan at how good it tasted. She was in heaven, suddenly back in the palace, munching on an apple as she read a book by the window in the library.
No, not there.  She was cold and alone, her stomach cramping painfully as she ate.  She needed to slow down.  She’d had nothing but stale bread for so long that she needed to take it easy lest she throw up the first real food she’d had in weeks.  Despite her hunger she paused, taking time to consider the exchange with the man again.
She wouldn’t go back there. He was too kind.  It felt like a cheat to beg from him every time he was in the market.  She couldn’t rely on him to feed her.  No, she would find food elsewhere.  She needed to remember how to survive.
Yet his eyes had been knowing.  He admitted that he understood.  Did he offer this to every beggar that came to him?  Everyone whom he caught steeling?  If so, how would he have any food left for himself?  How could he afford it if he had a hard time selling ice?
Why did Anna care so much?
She knew why.  It was the way he looked into her eyes and didn’t sweep a disgusted gaze at her tattered clothes and filthy skin like everyone else.  It was the fact that she felt he was truly understanding.  Perhaps she should give herself a break and accept some help, even if it put the man at an inconvenience.
Anna nibbled on the end of a carrot as she thought about him.  She wasn’t sure how long she was caught up into her own mind when she realized that she had eaten the apple – almost the entire core itself – and the three tiny carrots she’d managed to grab.   She was still hungry.  She didn’t think she’d ever not be hungry anymore.  At least she was able to find sleep, pondering if she would see the ice man again.
*****
Anna staked out his spot in the market for six days, resigned to the fact that he probably wasn’t coming back, when he finally showed up on the seventh day.
During that time, she had begged and pleaded, having been given virtually nothing.  Eventually she had resorted to stealing scraps once more. Seeing him again had brought back her deep shame.
From the shadows she watched as he pulled some ice from his sled for a paying customer.  He moved the big blocks like they weighed nothing. Such endurance was incredible, even from a man of his size.  When he was finished the transaction, he reached into the bag on the side of the sled and fed a couple carrots to his reindeer as he patted the beast on the head with a faint smile.  
Anna suddenly turned away, unable to take advantage of his good nature.    On one hand she needed to survive and on the other she didn’t want to take from someone who seemed so good hearted.  The other merchants were often ruthless, even booting her in the shins to get her to go away.   Never before had she encountered someone like him.  Perhaps that was the reason she turned back and peered at him again from her hiding spot.
Her mind was a whirlwind of indecision.  She stared longingly at the man who would give her food, too ashamed to take it from him.
It wasn’t until he returned to the back of the sled to wait for a customer that he started glancing around. Anna suddenly realized he was looking for her.  Deep in the shadows she knew he wouldn’t spot her, until his eyes swept past her hiding spot and came back to lock onto her gaze.
No one had ever done that to her before.  His face remained stoic as he nodded ever so slightly, acknowledging her where she cowered, letting her know to come to him when she was ready.  It took her a time before she gathered her rampart thoughts.   Finally, she emerged into the sunshine and slowly approached his sled.
His back was to her, leaning against the back of the sled while he waited for a customer.  “Wasn’t sure if you’d come over,” he said quietly after letting her watch him for a moment.
“Still feel bad about last time,” she said even quieter, watching his back.  He remained stiff as she crept closer to where the food was. “I wasn’t sure if I could bring myself to take advantage of you again.”
He was quiet while Anna looked down into the leather sack. In addition to apples and carrots this time, there was a small paper-wrapped package of what Anna assumed was meat, two small rolls, and a muffin.  Her mouth started to salivate uncontrollably, yet she pushed her desperate hunger from her mind to ask the question she had been dying to ask.
“You were gone longer than a couple days,” she said almost at a whisper.  “I didn’t think you were coming back.”
He nodded, still looking out on the street.  “Ran into some trouble with the sled.  Had to fix a ski and it took me a while to chop the wood for it.”  His large shoulders shrugged.  “Didn’t think I’d be missed too much.”
Anna could hear the smile on his lips and the side of her mouth curled in response.   He glanced nonchalantly over his shoulder at her and she let him see her own smile.  It head been years since anyone had made her smile for real.
“Got a few extra things this time,” he said quietly, turning his focus away from her again.  “I have plenty more than I need.  Please help yourself.”
Anna gave the food a sideways glance.  She had to swallow again, thinking about actually eating a piece of meat.  She was indeed hungry, but she was also incredibly curious.  Something so deeply seated within her that even starvation couldn’t drive it away.
“Where are you from?” she asked.
“The mountains,” he said slowly.
Anna thought his answer sounded careful.  “You have family?”
He nodded, still facing the street.  “I do.”
“A big family?”
“You could say that.”
Why did it sound like he was smiling again?  Anna took a tentative step closer to him, almost standing at his side but still far enough behind that he would have to turn his head if he was to look at her. “How long have you been harvesting ice?”
“Almost as long as I can remember.”
“As a child then?”
He nodded.
“Were your parents harvesters?”
She noticed him stiffen ever so slightly, immediately regretting prying into his life.  It wasn’t any of her business.  Why the hell was she even asking him questions anyway? He said she could take the food but it still felt like stealing anyway.  That’s all she really was.  A dirty thief.
Anna turned, red-faced, and grabbed a few of the items from the top of the sack.  She didn’t even look, she just needed to get out of there and never return.  
She ran, despite hearing him call for her to ‘Wait, come back!’ and something else she couldn’t quite make out.  She kept going until she was back at the dilapidated stables, tucked in her filthy horse stall, sobbing uncontrollably.  
She wished she’d never engaged him.  She should have just taken what he had offered and left.  How could she have been so stupid, trying to talk to him. The last thing she needed was to become invested in him.  What would happen when he stopped showing up at the market because he didn’t want to deal with her anymore?  That was surely the outcome, wasn’t it?  There was no way he wanted a beggar hanging around every time he was in town, asking annoying questions and taking what little she was sure he could afford himself…
Yet she could not get the kindness of his eyes out of her mind.  He had seemed so careful around her, like he was afraid of scaring her away…
Then she had ended up scaring herself away.
It took a while to compose her emotions.  When she finally did, she looked at the items in her lap.  She had grabbed one of the small paper packages, an apple, a roll, and a small wax covered roll of cheese.  Tears sprung in her eyes at the feast that she was almost too guilty to eat.
Almost.
She unwrapped the paper with shaky hands, bringing the meat to her lips and taking a tentative nibble.   The last time she had eaten a piece of meat was in the castle.  The taste flooded her senses, making her cough from the saltiness.  She could grab some water from the horse trough a half a block down the street but right now she needed to simply appreciate.
She cut the salt by taking small bites of the roll and the cheese with her meat, eating slowly and methodically, making sure not to give her stomach too much.  
About half way through she had to pause, giving her churning stomach a chance to catch up.  She took the opportunity to shuffle down the street to the trough and fill the filthy bucket she found in the old stables.   Careful not to lose any water, she went back to her nest and settled in.  She sipped the water through her dirty hands then resumed her feast.
The meat somehow tasted even better.  The cheese and the fresh roll were incomprehensibly delicious.  With a few bites left of each, she carefully wrapped them back in the paper for the morning and started on the apple for dessert.
While she was chewing slowly, she finally clued in that the big blond man had put that particular food near the top of the sack on purpose.  He had wanted her to have it.  He had wanted to give her some better food.  There was no way she could possibly know for sure, yet in her heart she felt it to be the truth.
Anna settled her frail body into the corner, trying to find sleep that would not come.   It was always hard to sleep.  This time wasn’t because of the cold or the hard ground. It was because she couldn’t stop thinking about him, wondering about him, feeling a weird sort of desperation to see him again.
Surely, he would be gone when she woke, like the last time.  She would resume what she knew… try to stay alive.  Even with her hunger muted for the first time in what seemed like an eternity, she would wake with a painfully empty stomach.  
Perhaps it was time to move on, time to spare the nice man from her dependence.  She could survive until she got to the next town.  She had done it before when she left Arendelle.
The past came back with a vengeance and her thoughts were consumed of nothing else until it was nearly dawn when she finally drifted off in a fitful sleep.  
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diyunho · 7 years ago
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The Joker x Reader - 10 Things The Joker Randomly Does That Kind of Prove He Cares
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1.   J is in a good mood more often. It strangely happened after he met you: the first year he had two good days the whole year, the second year he had four and this year is about to have the sixth day and the year is not even over yet! A new record.
The King of Gotham calls you Insanity when he’s in a good mood; that’s the signal you can ask for pretty much whatever you want and he won’t say no.
“Hey Insanity,” J greets when you open your eyes in the morning.
You gasp. OMG, he’s gonna be in a good mood today, such a rare occurrence!
“Hi handsome,” you kiss him super-fast and don’t waste a single moment so you start your tirade:
“Can we spend the day at the beach?”
“Yeah.”
Jackpot!
“Can we make love instead of having sex?”
“Yeah.”
Jackpot!
“Can we hold hands more than 20 seconds?”
“Yeah.”
Jackpot!
“Can we say lovey-dovey things to each other?” “Don’t push it, Insanity.”
Crap.
But you remember your secret weapon and sweetly smile. J squirms, uncomfortable. “Ummm…maybe…no guarantees.”
Jackpot!
“Can we make out for more than 10 minutes before you undress me?”
“Yeah.”
Jackpot!
“Can I call you “my sexy Metal Mouth” after you undress me?”
“Don’t push it, Insanity!”
Crap.
Oh no, here’s the sweet smile again and your boyfriend fusses under the covers, uneasy.
“Ummm…maybe…just once…no guarantees…”
Jackpot!
2.   The Joker never buys you flowers but he makes sure fresh ones are delivered for each room at the penthouse every three days. He likes to break a random one from the bouquets and places it behind your ear.
You’re usually reading a book but stop when he does that.
“Thank you baby,” and you smile in such a sweet way it catches him off guard. You go back to your reading and he sits there, staring and mumbling words. “Want me to get you anything?” you offer, turning the page; can’t really tell what he said.
“No, I have stuff to do!” he sulks, slowly walking away. What J actually said was that you look very cute with that flower but got pissed at himself since you almost heard him. A very unique way to give his girl flowers but it counts; gets a solid E for Effort.
3.   He is reeeaaally straining to do something nice for you once a month.
It’s July, 95 degrees out there; scorching hot and The Joker places his jacket around your shoulders. He saw that in a movie once and figured chicks dig it.
“I’m so hot already,” you try to give it back and see he’s getting angry and then it hits: must be that one nice thing he does monthly. “On the other hand, the air conditioning in the car is going to be full blast and you know I get cold easily.” You keep his jacket and J keeps his cool.
For August he plans to outrun every single nice thing he ever did for you: since you can’t swim he’s going to push you in the river, leave you in there for a bit and save you before you drawn. My God, you will love that for sure!
4.   He takes you to casinos because you like to gamble.
His business partners own your favorite so they close out and seal a whole room just for you two to play the slots machines.
“Baby, I’m not winning!” you stump your foot, pouting.
J loses his shit.
“Why is my girl not winning, hm?” he yells at the guys.
“Well, sir, it’s just luck,” one comments and The Clown Prince of Crime is not happy with the answer.
“My woman needs no luck, SHE HAS ME ! If she doesn’t win in the next 15 minutes, you’ll see what happens !!!!” and J hands you over another stack of 100 dollars bills because you like to play maximum bet and you run out of money pretty fast.
Fortunately, you win $100,000 and it makes you so excited you jump up and down, clapping and laughing. The Joker is excited too for a different reason: he keeps on glaring at your cleavage and your boobs almost bursting out of the tight fabric.
You don’t collect the money because you don’t need it: you just like to win. The blue eyed devil just KNOWS you will be this enthusiastic next month also when he will toss you in the river to let you drawn. You will certainly jump up and down after he saves you.
Probably J’s gonna have a huge surprise regarding his plan, but for now we’ll let him believe in his dream; gets a solid D for Delusional.
5.   The Joker goes insane if he only gets a hint somebody is disrespecting his Queen.
Once he shot somebody because the man said “hello” to you and J didn’t like the tone of his voice. Actually, the dude had a cold; that’s why he sounded weird. Oops!
Another time J thought a guy was giving you the evil eye and stabbed him on the spot.Actually, the dude just had corrective eye surgery and was blinking faster than normal. Oops!
Today is legit though. Both walked in at the meeting right when two smugglers were talking garbage about his Princess. They were saying you look average, not that attractive and The Joker could do better.
He absolutely lost his marbles ! Beat them to a pulp while screaming:
“My woman is not that attractive?! By whose standards you pieces of shit ?! Every time I look at her, my pants are getting tighter !! Do you understand what I’m saying?! I like her and that’s the only standard there is!” and he keeps on kicking them and punching them, completely out of control.
After he’s done and your henchmen take bodies away, you have to ice his bruised up hands; the skin is scraped too.
“Thank you,” you kiss his knuckles and emerge them back in the iced water, smitten by his actions. “Nobody did this for me before, you’re my hero,” you point out, drunk on euphoria.
“This town already has a hero; goddamned Batsy takes all the glory! The bastard is selfish, hates to share the spotlight!” J rolls his eyes.
“Who cares about him?! You’re my hero,” you kiss him and have to say: “I think your pants are getting tighter,” and he growls:
“Either I need new pants or I need to get laid.”
“We’ll go with the second option, OK?” you sweetly smile again and he’s feeling warmer even with his hands in ice.
“If you insist,” he sighs, hating the fact that he did two nice things for you this month instead of just one.
6.   The Joker can’t cook but once a week he makes breakfast in bed.  
Takes him an hour and a half to finish and you are famished. Finally shows up with toast, a boiled egg and salt.
“What took you so long? I’m starving!” you whine, seeing there is almost nothing on your plate…again.
“You can’t rush these things, Kitten ! It has to be perfect, OK?” he raises his voice and you realize you talked too much.
“It is very good,” you take a bite of your toast. “You are getting better and better at this!” you praise his aptitudes and strike his ego.
“I am basically a chef,” J concludes and you peck his cheek, mesmerized by how he has such an outstanding opinion about himself.
“And my hero,” you add and he takes a deep breath, pride making his chest go up and down faster. “Batsy can’t even compare to you.”
“Precisely, Pumpkin. He’s just a psycho out of control.”
“Indeed,” you agree, wanting to emphasize that nobody is sexier than your sexy Metal Mouth but you already used the opportunity when he was in a good mood the other day so you shut up.
7.    J is aware you love his purple coat so he custom ordered an outfit for you made of the same crock material, this way you match.
It’s a two piece ensemble: a very skimpy little bra and an equally flimsy thong, only for him to see. You were thinking you’re getting a halter top and a skirt or something? Ha! Forget about it!
8.   The Joker comforts you when you cry.
“Seriously, Kitten, you’re not ugly,” he caresses your hair while holding you in his arms.
“I am ugly!!” you continue to bawl, making a mess of his favorite silver shirt.
“Hey, look at me,” J lifts your chin up, forcing your eyes to meet, this way maybe he can save whatever is left of his shirt also. “When I wake up in the morning and I see you, I don’t get scared. If you were ugly, I would freak out. But I don’t, which means you look fine.”
“You mean it?” you sniffle, squeezing him harder.
“Absolutely. It could be much worse.”
“So now I look bad and I could look worse in the future?!” whaling restarts.
He walked right into this one unprepared.
“Nahhhh, it can’t get worse than this,” he kisses you and then adds since you cry your eyes out. “ What the hell, I’m teasing; calm down woman! Crying makes you very ugly!”
You stop instantly.
I guess he was prepared after all.
9.    He gives you massages even if you don’t ask for them.
For some reason, his hands always slip in your undies.
“That’s not my back,” you utter and J is quick to respond:
“My bad, Pumpkin.”
For some reason, his hands always get to your boobs afterwards.
“That’s not my back.”
“My bad, Princess.”
“Did you just say my Bat?” you tease and your butt gets pinched.
“Hilarious! Want him to come and give you a massage too?!”
“I wouldn’t mind,” the reply makes The Joker turn you around and you get pinned under his body.
“Watch it, you bad girl!” he snarls, smelling your freshly washed hair.
“Did you just say Bat girl?” you giggle and he grinds his teeth:
“Are you starting to get a kink for Batsy?”
“Me?! No way! I like my hero,” you stretch your neck to kiss him and he purrs, wanting to get the most out of it.
“I am your hero; remember that next month in August,OK?”
He is surely referring to that nice thing he’ll do for you when you’ll be pushed in the river to drawn and he’ll save you in the last moment. Oh, yeah, you’ll enjoy it tremendously!
10.   J learns French just for you.
Spent the whole day fussing around with the dictionary, three laptops and five books until he realized he got what he wanted out of it.
“Princess, I’m done,” your boyfriend announces, victorious.
You can’t wait to hear everything, you’re gonna lose your mind. The Joker takes a deep breath and pronounces with perfect accent:
“Voulez vous coucher avec moi ce soir?” (Do you want to sleep with me tonight?)
That’s all he knows.
Holy Commissar Gordon! That’s sooo hot because it’s the only French you know too. Plus the answer:
“Oui, (yes)" you wink at him and he is totally turned on.
“Oh my God, Y/N, you didn’t tell me you speak French fluently!”
“Surprise,” you grin, signaling him to come closer. “We gotta compare notes, don’t you think?”
“Definitely,” J licks his lips, ready to comply since his pants are getting tighter.
Hmmm…either he needs new pants or he needs to get laid. I suppose you’ll go with the second option one more time.
 Also read: MASTERLIST
http://diyunho(dot)tumblr(dot)com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist
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aleatoryalarmalligator · 7 years ago
Text
Life Story Part 56
It was the Christmas of 05', and Sarah finally told me that she and her longtime online friend Alex, from the CKY internet forums had admitted they wanted to become boyfriend and girlfriend. Somehow, and this is to point out how oblivious I can sometimes be – I just hadn't suspected that – even though it had been completely obvious. Some part of me might have known, but I must have still seen us as youngsters too young to be in relationships. She felt sheepish about telling me – maybe embarrassed for dating someone online, which we had always laughed about being stupid, and another for admitting to herself and to me that she had feelings or desires to be with someone altogether.
I didn't know very much about dating honestly. I just suspected that someday you find yourself in a different realm. It's not something that even connects to the everyday. Love was always for me – meant to transcend the everyday somehow. Take you out of your existential inner hell. It would be likened to the books I read as a young girl, of preteens my age falling into magic wells, discovering they have magic powers, being transported by magic mirrors into other realms. You couldn't work to get in love anymore than you could work to get out of it. And deciding you would date seemed like it shouldn't be so factual. I thought Sarah choosing to date someone online was boring in the manner that her and Alex had done was boring, but who was I to say so? It was very hard for me, even then of course to comprehend being in love with anyone but Zack, and in my mind at least, I guess I still saw myself in the center of some love story that hadn't ended yet. But if I took myself out of that space and imagined falling in love, I could only envision what Hollywood had shown – 80's teenage love stories of rebellion and kissing in the rain and murder if necessary to further a story. The act of choosing organically to calmly agree to considering one another boyfriend and girlfriend never seemed enough. A story had to happen. It had to be an event, and most importantly, it had to be lifted by magic.
So Sarah getting herself into a relationship didn't make a lot of sense to me personally (where was the blood, the passion, the rebellion, the resistance and the final giving in, the all or nothing confession that read like high literature?), and I was taken aback, but I didn't judge her for it in the way I think she was afraid I was going to. It seemed like arranged marriage to me, but maybe there had been more to her life talking to Alex online that I didn't know about. Quite likely actually. It never occurred to me, though it was happening in plain sight, that Sarah had another life. Or that she had been desperately lonely, or that she felt tremendously lost. I just figured our dreams of being in a band were enough. And I by my own nature was sort of self centered for not noticing.
And really, I wasn't mad. I didn't see a problem with Sarah having a boyfriend. I would be lying if I didn't feel a little bit frustrated by it. I think I mostly was let down, just a little by the realization that I wasn't her only person anymore. Alex's existence definitely overruled my own. Girls get obsessed with their first boyfriends, and only children – like Sarah often struggle to split their time and energies with those around them in an even way. Plus, even though I knew it was petty to look at it this way, by this made me the only girl in the grade I had been in in Kendrick high school. I knew I was holding out for Zack in reality, but in principle, when would someone ever fall in love with me? Was I unlovable?
Naturally, Sarah was in a very dreamy state for the rest of the school year. Our fights got worse, due to me feeling like she was sort of dreamily and systematically cutting me out. I didn't feel as heard. She answered me less when I asked her psychological or philosophical questions that I felt pertained to our friendship, and just in general, she gave less of herself to her everyday life. The fantasy of finally meeting Alex in person was her primary reality, and I was now in the secondary position. I felt diminished, and to be fair half my anger towards her was probably selfish. I assumed without realizing it, that her dismissal of me was all about me, or that she was against me – since it made me feel bad. And maybe I was a little bit right. Sarah couldn't live up to my standards, she couldn't compete with my pain, she didn't have the same highs or lows that I had. She lived in a fog, and randomly, I burst out of the fog angry at her for not understanding. I was sort of toxic to a degree. And rather than deal with me and my black and white thinking, my confusing ups and downs – she instead decided to find someone else to hide behind who made her feel better about herself.
Besides, staying up three nights a week crying and upset was destroying both of our health. Usually a strong fight – with me explaining my feeling and her getting upset and me getting mad and such, caused me to feel better afterwards or had up to that point – I knew for one that she cared mostly, if only for a day or two. But it was getting to where her and I were crying at one in the morning every other night and I was still upset in the morning when I awoke. I would wake up in a clenched ball of anger and resentment. My head would be pounding as though I had never stopped crying. I would be shaky and the world would seem gray, and the anger wouldn't leave – but life had to continue and the thought of ending the friendship was frightening. If I walked way, I would be lost. Besides, Sarah and I were great friends half the time. You would never know how often we fought. Our senses of humor matched, we seemed to instinctively understand one another. We weren't phony with one another, we didn't judge each other about stuff most people do. I didn't want to walk away from that. I tried to find ways to be happy for her new relationship. I knew I couldn't challenge it.
We started learning about Malcolm X in our history class with Mike. I had never heard of this guy before, and the experience of realizing that public school had intentionally hid Malcolm X from the students deliberately made me realize quite a bit about the state of racism in the united states, and just how much information people don't freaking know. I don't know if it can be chalked up to a conspiracy to make US students as dull and disinterested as possible, or if it's just where I came from, but I was very much on the dark on social issues – and only ever heard about those issues from republican mouth pieces on talk radio. I wasn't aware that racism was the way it was. I didn't know it was still alive in well. Somewhere in my foggy limited education, I remember getting this notion that Martin Luther King took a magic wand and made it disappear and ever since then there had only been a few racist stragglers – not a system that was stacked in a racist bent from the ground up..My father had shown signs of racism, but I tried not to think of those times since they were unpleasant to me, and instinctively as a younger person I had wanted his approval.  And since I grew up in a primarily white town, in a white school, and I was dealing with my own identity and my relationships with those few people I knew in my own small world, I didn't get subjected to, or asked to think about racism at length. Mike was the first person who brought it up to me in a serious way.
I remember Mike starting off his lecture about Malcolm X. He started off by asking us by a show of hands how many of us think racism was just a part of America's past, if we thought it was over now. Most people kept their hands down, though I am certain had my exclassmates been asked in Kendrick, everyone's hands would have flown up. Mike then went onto explaining that he personally felt and knew from what he had seen in life, that racism was still very much real, and undealt with. He explained and demonstrated clear examples of the power dynamics of white society, of Malcolm X's philosophy on white society and black power and how Malcolm X saw the reality of human rights in general. There were parts of the film, which we eventually watched as well that made me uncomfortable, challenged me, and then when I thought I had my own ego comfortably safe from being challenged, I was challenged again.
Learning about the civil rights went on for a few weeks. Mike briefly taught us about Martin Luther King, but he confessed that he had focused more on Malcolm X since he knew public school had not taught us about Malcolm X intentionally since they felt that teaching Malcolm X would be a form of tearing down society and inciting violence, like, he was only mentioned in some senior high school text books. I didn't have a good education at all on Martin Luther King even.
We were supposed to write an essay on the two civil rights leaders comparing the two. I ended up getting a C+ instead of the A+ I was hoping for. I had gotten this hopeful notion in my head after my perfect essay in literature that I could do no wrong from here on out. It was strange to find myself disappointed with a C0+, when just one year previous that would have been an excellent grade for the likes of me. My standards for myself had gone up it seemed, though it also gave me a healthy dose of understanding that I wasn't somehow a genius all of the sudden, just because I had accidentally done something grand. Just because you do one good thing doesn't mean that it will stay with you.
It's at this point too where I have to shamefully confess to something rather shameful and embarrassing. In short,. I tried to debate my very intelligent science teacher after class about homosexuality being a choice – which I completely believed at the time – given my upbringing and some other misunderstandings I had. It is incredibly embarrassing to look back and know that I was adamant about it, and confidently arrogant and egotistical enough to actually try to debate someone. The science teacher, who was also a part time professor at the Pullman University, was one of those people who are so estimable and brilliant he had troubles articulating things to simpletons and he tended to be very methodical and long winded and spoke in a nervous eloquence and I rather liked him overall. I remember his facial expression looking at me in disbelief as he delicately tried to explain his side to me. Like, he sort of wanted to laugh at me, but I think in all earnest he was trying to reach out to me.
I was of course, was asking for impossible amounts of truth and falling back on other kinds of fallacies. I thought I was doing a good job debating when really, I think he was taking pity on my small brain. Though neither he nor I were angry in any way at one another, I can easily see how me coming out with such a narrow minded opinion that I had no experience in could warrant some people to want to punch me in the face, with my smug self confidence on matters that were highly personal and I had absolutely no evidence or reason to doubt. Still, I look back at the amount of patience this science teacher showed me – he listened to what I had to say, he didn't scream at me or get mad. And though it took another year or so, I eventually did come around to his way of seeing things – in part because he listened to me – even though I was wrong, smug and morbidly mistaken and held an opinion that had historically been used to oppress others. His collected attitude towards me helped me change my mind later on in a way it might not have had he blown up in my face. So now, when I find myself at odds with someone – someone who has opposite views as me, I try very hard and attempt to address them like this professor did with me.
There were two reasons why I was under the impression that being gay was a choice. The first one was hearing my father talk about it over and over again like it was some strange alien behavior that sick people randomly enjoyed partaking in. It was the narrative I had grown up with, and having no experience being gay personally, I hadn't reached that point in my life where I was subjected to the concept. I just wasn't there yet, for whatever reason.
The other reason was that I was an outsider to what most people were feeling altogether, and I was assuming everyone was like me. I think I would have to say that in terms of my own sexuality, I am more or less somewhere on the gray scale. I am not asexual, I have a libido and a sex drive, and I am sex positive for the most part, but in terms of seeing people and feeling sexually driven towards them, I have to confess I was a little lost. I realized that there really had to be a lot of meaning between me and another person to find the right link to feel that close to anyone, and even then, what my heart felt, and what I fantasized about was more fantastical circumstances that weren't necessarily sexual. I was really driven by intense romantic circumstances, dialogue, intrigue, while most of my friends in school just wanted to jump people's bones the moment they had the chance in the backseat of a car, I preferred sexual tension to sexual contact if that makes any sense, and though I could appreciate the aesthetic beauty of anyone I met, I really couldn't fathom feeling sexually attracted to anyone.
So, it was for this reason that I more or less assumed that everyone around me must either be faking it or really pushing themselves to feel sexually towards one another. And I assumed it was also the same with genders. I didn't have any conscious disdain for gay people – and I pretty well thought you had a stick up your ass if you did harbor disdain. I just thought it was a 100% choice. I believed everything was a choice – like to the point of crazy. I thought having cancer was somewhat of a choice. I don't know where this notion started, but I think it came from feeling worthless and helpless and diet culture. I was one of those free will libertarians (not exactly related to the political libertarian, though kinda), and I was not willing at that point to accept the evidence that I wasn't the 100% master of every single one of my feelings and thoughts. I wasn't willing to accept that I was made of chemicals and atoms just like the outside world, or that I was a victim. This was a defense mechanism I realize now against feeling weak. I know some people say it's easier to blame someone else than to blame yourself, but sometimes the opposite is the case.
In any case, it was ignorance and homophobia that indirectly affected my assessment of human sexuality, and I didn't realize that this belief not only stemmed from homophobia I had been subjected to, it also delegitimized the relationships of people with different orientations so they couldn't get married or be seen or treated decently. In any case, it is embarrassing to think back on, and very hard to imagine having the will or want to argue such a point.
Honestly, too, I have to say at this time things were kind of spiraling out of control for me. I wasn't getting much sleep. I was fighting with Sarah worse than ever. I felt like there were two Sarahs, and two mes. My ego would become huge, and then it would burst and I would feel psychotically alone. I felt Sarah was against me, betraying me, and ultimately abandoning me, and then I would find her to be one of the best people I had ever known, someone I could trust more than anyone. Reality was very wobbly, and it was scarier for me than I even realized. I felt like at any moment I was going to eventually break completely, or the world around me was going to and I was going to find out that everything I had ever known was some kind of lie. I was even back on forth on wondering if I was somehow being followed by people. Mental illness is a bitch. Fortunately, I was getting a great education. I learned about Rome, the dark ages, Charlemagne, and then I learned about the industrial revolution, WW2, and how the world changed since then. It was one of the few productive sane things I could do. We learned about history of the Cold War, how that brought on the Korean War, Vietnam into the present war that was in Iraq. My eyes were opened, and I was actually able to articulate something that was very wrong with the United States. I no longer said I hated it in the US because I wished I was in some more interesting setting. I actually found myself caring deeply about the truth in the media, corruption in politics, ending war, and creating a better world. I had to thank Mike for that. This knowledge gave me the foundation to continue learning about the world and at least have a grasp of any intelligent conversation I have ever been privy to having.
Then I ended up in an art class that didn't go too well. Mike and Jenni honestly hired an art teacher in hopes to keep Sarah and I in school. I feel really badly they did this – since it didn't end up helping anyone. I don't remember her name, but she was young – didn't draw or paint, and seemed to think that she knew what was art and what wasn't.  I instantly resented her – though I tried to be quiet at first. After she gave us assignments, she would walk around and insult elements of our work. She didn't really understand the creative process, and she only had any respect for realism. One girl was painting a dream she had had the night before. She was told her paintings was 'wrong'. Why? Because it didn't go with the things that this woman had learned in school about how to compose a painting. She didn't understand the relaxed attitude of the school, and she snapped at a girl with anxiety issues for bringing in her blanket – which was a form of comfort for the girl and the school allowed her to have it in class. She especially didn't like Kat.
As you can imagine, people ended up getting very upset in this class, to the point where we were all struggling to function. I mostly stayed quiet, as the other girls fought. She ended up telling us all that we were all self centered millennials, and explained that technology had made us complacent self centered noncreatives. It was very insulting, and in order to satisfy herself on this matter, she made our next project be that we draw a Rolling Stones Magazine with ourselves as the front cover, and then write an article about how cool we were. I didn't like this at all. It was just meant to make us into jokes for herself I think. Plus, I had a lot of body issues as the time. I was gaining a lot of the weight I had lost that summer back. Stress was causing me to be greasy. My eyes hurt from crying. I didn't feel like someone who should be on the cover of a magazine, so I opted out of the project.
From that point on, I was very frustrated by her, and really felt she might have been the most annoying person I had ever met. She made us fill out a paper at some point later on in the course where she wanted us to explain what our strengths and weaknesses were. She asked us to explain what made this class she was teaching the most difficult. I had to be honest. I wrote ' YOU', in response to what the biggest challenge was. I couldn't help it. I couldn't stand her – and I didn't think she was a nice person. Sarah bit her lip and was a bit shocked when I turned it in. I truly felt it was people like her that ruined art for others. I know there is a lot of inspiration to be had in art school, there are definitely skills that I could learn from, other creative minds I could meet. But there is nothing more frustrating and ugly to me than someone who goes to get a degree in the arts so they can put down those who make folky art at home, or make students feel badly. I didn't think a degree could give you what was most essential, which is something that has to be felt and meant. A degree couldn't really give your work integrity. You could not rely on logic to create it – there are people all over the world who don't really think about color codes and techniques. They see something or feel it and they express it, and that will always what gives art it's essential purpose. In essence I felt she killed art, and used her degree to make people feel like they weren't any good. I was opposed to her message entirely.
Later that day, Mike called me aside to talk to me. He looked concerned. I was a bit shocked when I found out that reading what I had written sent her over the edge into a sobbing mess. Mike essentially told me she melted and felt like she was a complete failure as a person. I felt badly, but I held my ground. I had to remind myself that life wasn't fair and she had stepped on my toes and that's what happens. I asserted myself, but deep down – I still felt bad. And Mike told me as politely as he could that it was very mean of me. He said something along the lines of  'look Renee, you're better than this'. I swallowed my apologetic tendencies, looked at him coldly and explained that it was appropriate for me to maintain a sense of self worth to not let people like her insult and harass me or others around me, and that I felt that she was very condescending.
In private though, I still couldn't shake the fact that I still felt very bad. I had truly made her feel terrible about herself. I had this clear imagine of her sobbing while driving in the rain all the way home, finding her husband distant and disinterested in comforting her, seeing herself go to the bathroom and look resentfully at her own reflection, and crying alone on her bed till she passed out from exhaustion curled up in a small sad ball of self loathing. I am sure I am overreacting in my imagination on those details, but it still seemed to stick – we don't realize how often little things can ruin another's day. It was too late for me to say sorry though. I tried to think of myself like a force of nature rather than an asshole. Like a hurricane. She merely threw herself into something she couldn't stand up to. But in a sense this almost frustrated me more. Why should I have to keep my mouth shut, rather than speak my mind? It frustrated me that Mike almost seemed to take her side over mine. I had spent most of my life being a church mouse to teachers, parents and the like. It hadn't been till about that year and a half or so that I had finally started to grow something like a backbone – and it had only come after I had become so sickly depressed that some level was reached and I grew. I hadn't really wanted to make her feel that badly, but I had been tiptoeing around people my entire life and having to feel guilty about how I made everyone feel all the time was not healthy for me. There had to be a point in life where I could open up about my ideals and act out on my true character.
What I realize now that I did not realize then was that it is possible to criticize the ideas and actions without criticizing the person, and I more or less understand that saying that she herself, a single individual with feelings and hopes and dreams, a person who had lived an entire life, with insecurities, and passions, to just take a cold arrow and strike her dead as the culprit of everything bad was unfair. True, I didn't agree with her methods and I found her to be semi insulting to us all. But it wasn't right to make her feel like 'she' herself was somehow worthless to us. I could have actually made my point even clearer and maybe even more cutting in the way I had wanted to be if I had attacked her ideas rather than her as a person. Because it's true that she was pushing her limits and abusing her power, but I was better than that, Mike was probably right about that – I just wasn't good with communicating in some ways. It seemed that even though I was much more mature than people my age, when I tried to communicate, it was incorrect somehow.
But I guess, back in those times, I was young and naive and understandably angry and I felt I was at war all the time. It's easy to become hardened when everything about you for years on end seemed to be taken away. I had just learned to finally accept that might made right. I half felt that whoever knocked down their enemies the hardest was the winner – though academically I was beginning to question it. And honestly, it never occurred to me that a student could hurt a teacher's feelings like that. I didn't even think that an adult could have their feelings hurt by me. I had generally always maneuvered through life as though I did not matter.
I think this was a turning point for me when the things of that year began unraveling. Well, on looking back, things had begun a great unraveling at the age of ten, but there had always been some pull back. I truly started losing ground. I ended up more furious with Sarah than I ever had been yet. It was still very much winter, and she had been dating Alex for a few months by this point – if only online. There seemed to be some vague plans underway for him to come up to Idaho to meet her in person for the first time,  though very little of it was expressed to me clearly. Sarah just wasn't telling me things anymore, and she didn't seem to care that much if I was angry.
In February or March, there was this skater kid that was our age who went to our school named Geoff who started hanging out with Sarah a lot. He was pretty nice, overall, though we never really talked. I was so unhappy by this point thatI was only known to do my school work or look psychotically angry but never saying anything. I barely registered him honestly. He really wanted to be Sarah's friend, and I could tell he sort of liked her, as it was looking like outside of Kendrick, a lot of guys really liked Sarah. This made me feel really excluded. If he wanted to hang out at break, then I was becoming the ugly third wheel. Not to mention, Sarah didn't tell him she had a boyfriend. They were touching each other a lot, giving each other massages in class, wearing one another's clothes and just fishy body language in general. I felt there was something very dishonest and inappropriate about their friendship. And Sarah would now sit by Geoff instead of me – since I was now an incredible bummer, who might have been slightly jealous of Sarah's power to simply be liked by people. I don't think Sarah was trying to hurt me. She just didn't want to deal with me anymore, and Geoff was fun. Somewhere in her mind, I knew she knew it was somewhat wrong, but she had never been liked before. And maybe I didn't fully know or acknowledge who Sarah really was, and perhaps she really didn't know either. I expected way too much from her.
This evolved and stirred silently in my thoughts, and it triggered me to believing she hated me. I felt she was phony. And perhaps I was onto something. I still feel that she was being dishonest, for what it's worth now (twelve and a half long years later). And she really was sort of done with me. She had found something better. She had stopped really fighting with me. When she started to date Alex, she just looked at me blankly. It confused me, and I felt betrayed and abandoned. And the world got even shakier. I saw no worth in myself and had this strong feeling I was going to lose everything I had. I was torn into some kind of manic rage.. It got to the point to where, in class, I felt myself getting so mad that I was about to be sick. I was shaking. And eventually, I just stopped talking to her for days. I still got rides from her, those rides were just awkward. At times, I felt this tinge of sadness in my fury – mostly I could tell that it was hurting her feelings. Somehow, she wasn't able to see in any way why I was upset. And this upset me. I wanted her to be able to read the situation – or at least instinctively understand why I was upset without having to tell her – and I was also tired of her trying to fix it just to make me feel better. Like, I wanted to trust her – but at the time, I felt like I no longer could. I wanted to push away from her – to see if I could. I resented that I relied on her so heavily for my own sense of self worth.
There was a snow storm during this time one day. It was coming down so much that it was hard for me to even stay mad sometimes – as the road home was completely covered in snow and we couldn't see where the road ended and a field began. It was getting to be well over a foot. The snow was flinging so fast everywhere that it hurt my eyes and looked like an optical illusion all around us. And it took us two and a half hours to drive back to Kendrick in what normally took us twenty five minutes. I managed not to look at Sarah or talk to her, and I could tell she was frustrated and hurt, but she did have to drive. I remember I had a mix cd playing, and it seemed like Patti Smith's 'Horses' was playing for eternity. I didn't know how to feel about Patti Smith, but I always strongly associate that song with that storm and that feeling. I felt like I was disappearing.
We must have made up after that day, at some point, but it stuck in my mind, and in Sarah's mind, even though she has an awful memory. I feel like something in our friendship kind of broke or shifted – became too tired for either of us to carry on our backs. I can't say it was either of our faults, but the situation in the backdrop of the storm changed things somehow. I still was very much unhappy, but I just poured myself deeper into school work.
I had to quit fiction writing class. I felt like a failure – having to step back from doing all these projects on moral or psychological grounds, and I knew it wouldn't get me to where I needed to be, but I could not physically will myself to write fiction. I stared at the computer screen and couldn't think of anything. It didn't really help that I was in a computer class with a bunch of people. I didn't have any ideas that I truly wanted to put out there. And if I had felt the drive and the story in me somewhere, I definitely could not have written anything on a teacher's time frame. If I had wanted to write stories, there never would come a time during school that I felt comfortable or like I had anything to say – particularly at this point in my life. My heart was racing all the time, my head filled with notions of being worthless. There was no way I could calm down enough to write anything. Though I don't write fiction now either, I know that when you write, you have to be able to have an open and honest dialogue that is free of criticism. It has an element of zen to it, that I had not yet really gotten a grasp of.  As far as I knew, I would be this way for the rest of my life.
Mike wanted us to all take our turns reading what we had written out loud to one another. He had us read something we had written based on a story he passed around to start us off and get us comfortable with public reading on one of the first days – then, in order to improve our public speaking skills he filmed us on an old tape recorder and took us in the office to watch it. I decided to try, even though I was certain to fail. I went up there, and I don't remember what happened, but I got nervous at some point and acted out very strangely. Most of the other students didn't have the kind of problem I had. Eventually it was my turn. I felt panic, anxiety and a strange anger I had nobody to place it on. I could barely think. I guess what I felt most was a dark festering sense of shame.
When Mike turned on the little television, I instantly became so uncomfortable with the sight of myself at the podium that I put my hands on my face and curled into a ball. Mike got weirdly frustrated by my reaction and told me to put my hands down and watch. I listened only because of the forceful nature of the command. But honestly seeing myself talking to a crowd made me sick to my stomach. I couldn't even be critical of my performance. It was a punch in the stomach. I know this sounds weird, but it was one of the worst feelings I had ever had. Having to actually see who I was externally – what people saw when they saw me rather than how I saw myself privately was immensely painful. I realize nobody likes the sound of their own voice when they hear it. People don't like most of the pictures that are taken of them. But the average level of disdain most people have for their own reflections paled compared to how I felt about seeing myself at the podium. I kept trying to look at the screen but flinching at how hideous and embarrassing I sounded. All I could see was ugliness, fat, a horrible speaking voice – I felt like a toad. The big talk I did privately was all a front. Because underneath my ego, I was still small and worthless, and having an ego only makes you look worse. I didn't have anything to say to an audience, nothing to contribute to the world. I was not inspired – my ego had grown to a point where asserting my dominance was just a way to mask who I was. I was not close to David Bowie, I was not an artist. I wasn't smart. It really was a mindfuck moment for me. It occurred to me that I might not actually even have a self. I felt like was falling in the chair I was sitting. I panicked and I covered my eyes, and despite how awkward the small office room was, I started crying.
I think Mike tried to talk to me in a chill manner – but seemed tense and sort of baffled and annoyed. And my reaction to feeling that much shame all at once was to sort of lash out rudely at him, and cover up. If I could have explained this, it might have helped, but there were no words to describe it. When I gathered my thoughts, I explained that I was leaving the class and would never put myself through that again. There was no question of that. I was sorry I had even tried. It was a mistake. I felt like I a loser but there was no way at this point that I could live my life and do public speaking. And I think me just backing away that suddenly made Mike feel like a failure of a teacher. So in turn, he became disappointed with me, and that disappointment translated into frustration. This really was more or less what set off the beginning of the end. He was fed up with me.
There was no other class that had room for me going on at that period. They wouldn't let me take economics with Sarah. Technically, with no class to be taking, I wasn't really even supposed to be there. I sat and listened to the stories the other students wrote instead. They weren't great writers, but they wrote with an ere of confidence that somehow I wasn't blessed with. Samantha's boyfriend Adam was taking this class in the alternative school for some reason. He excitedly wrote a short story that was clearly inspired by the beginning of Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy. It involved kitchen appliances all over the planet coming to life and having epic battles in the sky. It was written with glorious detail, metaphors. The appliances almost took on new life as they battled gallantly in the heavens in some kind of cosmic dance of absurdity. Spatulas stampeded waffle makers. Spoons banged on pots for war drums. The story made me laugh. He read it with a sort of Weird Al Yankovic like glee. Other girls wrote almost autobiographically about their abusive fathers at home. Everyone seemed to have courage that I didn't have.
Eventually I was called into the office, where Mike and Jenni sat down and talked with me. Mike I think was trying to let me know that he knew I was very capable of writing fiction. He told me he thought that my fiction, if I chose to write it, would be better than everyone else's. He was trying to help me. Perhaps he meant what he said. It managed to disappoint me though. Mostly, it caused me to see Mike as a liar, since he congratulated all the students for their writing and told them all he felt they had a lot of promise. Now talking to me, he almost seemed to look down on their writing, or at least that was my interpretation. So I felt like he was a liar. It angered me that he seemed to like Adam's story when he talked to Adam, but he used Adam's story as an example of bad writing when he talked to me privately.
It was at this point that I chose to call him a liar. He was very confused, and asked me to explain what he had done wrong. I wouldn't tell him for some reason – instead choosing to hold it in my deck. Mike, who I think generally tries to be as truthful as he could – almost to the point of neurosis perhaps, was suddenly made pretty upset by this. I think it hurt his feelings. He told me he didn't appreciate being called a liar without an explanation and there was an edge now in his voice. I  In my mind, by expressing why I was upset, I felt that I was giving people the upper hand against me – which I realize now was pretty strange and sad. We are all the masters of hindsight. Instead of calling him a liar, I could have delicately explained why he had lost me. Honestly, I think he did like Adam's story too. He was just mustering everything he could think of to get me to feel good about myself enough to stay in his class. He was attempting to connect with me – and I wasn't having it. He looked at Jenni with a facial expression that said 'See what I mean?' and he left the room. Jenni was flustered. Nothing got said.
When I sat down at the desk the next day, Mike angrily and coldly told me I was no longer a part of that class and he didn't want me in there. So I sat in the computer lab instead – since it was the only place where a class wasn't going on. I think Mike was afraid I was going to get under his skin and he would yell at me – something he seldom did. He was trying to save us both the trouble. Looking back, he must have cared an awful lot about my education to be so unhappy with me. It's the only explanation that makes sense to me. I didn't have any more work on the computer to do, so I instead decided to play Meerca Chase on neopets and check my new MySpace page that Sarah had helped me make – though I didn't quite understand it yet. Mike saw me doing this, and he tried to kick me out of the building. But outside was twenty degrees with windchill, and I didn't own a coat, only two flannels that I wore over top one another. I never had any spending money at all – so I couldn't go and drink coffee. I didn't want to freeze. I tried to explain this to him, and he rolled his eyes at me and told me I needed to talk to Jenni about it, furiously. I sort of shrunk, but what could I say?
I didn't see Jenni the next day or the next. He came into the computer lab, and he kicked me out again. I looked outside, and I knew I couldn't be out there in the cold. I was really confused at this point, and I asked him where I should be. He raised his voice at me and said 'That's Not My Problem Renee!' and walked away. So I left that room. Apparently, I couldn't be in the computer lab, outside, in any classroom, office or kitchen, so instead I just sort of sat by the wall next to the kitchen. I was extremely nervous. Mike finally hated me - officially. He didn't want to see me around at all, he couldn't even be civil.
Eventually, Mike came up to me and said that he had set me up to have another appointment with Jenni – in a very exasperated manner. I would have gladly done it myself, as I was incredibly nervous, but I really had not seen her and didn't have any way of contacting her. To her credit, Jenni seemed to understand that Mike was being a little weird about me not being able to sit anywhere. She was very soft when she talked to me. I told her I was getting kind of afraid that I was going to piss Mike off even worse. She told me she would talk him down. I thanked her. She looked around online and found a nursing online course I could take for half a college credit. I happily accepted it. Anything to have something to be doing – though I knew too well that I saw no future in medicine for myself. She asked me why Sarah and I weren't talking much anymore – which I denied. It was too personal for me, and I myself didn't really understand it. In a lowkey way, she kind of told me that she didn't think Sarah was a very good friend. I didn't ever get her reasons – and to this day I never knew what those reasons were. I have troubles imagining she could take sides with my crazy feelings over Sarah's humble logical humorous nature.
She started asking me some questions. They were kind of personal, though I don't remember what they were. She was distant in her approach, and she seemed confused by my answers. I asked her why she was asking me those questions. I was honestly very curious as to what she was getting at. Eventually, she kind of told me some things. One, Mike was partially upset with me because he didn't know what to do with me as a person, or who he was dealing with. I was a very unusual student, according to her and Mike, perhaps one of the most confusing students they had ever had. Mike had explained to Jenni, and Jenni had noticed it too that my personality was extremely complex. She didn't want me to take this the wrong way, but out of the hundreds of kids that Mike and Jenni had worked with, I was one of the strangest. Apparently, I was deeply layered. Mike had a way of getting people to shed their layers of self and most people have a few, but with me, there was only more and more layers. He would think he was making progress with me, but only coming to find that it was just another fake personality he was dealing with. The only explanation that Jenni and Mike could find for it, was that I was deeply deeply broken – so broken that I couldn't even reflect on it. Though other students that came to the school had problems, they often got upset, screamed and cried where I stayed pretty calm most of the time outwardly at least – I was actually doing very poorly.
She said she saw a lot of signs of severe trauma in my behaviors. I rocked back and forth. I seemed to switch to different people. To be honest, I didn't see that in myself, but I know they had education on how to read people, and I think they must have been on to something. As for rocking back and forth, it's something I started doing when I was a toddler. I told her I had had some abuse, but nothing extreme. I was nobody's sex slave. I'd never had anyone break my bones. So many of the people I knew in my life had worse suffering than me. I was rather confused. Essentially, Mike didn't feel like there was anything else he could do to help me. I was beyond either one of them helping me. Honestly, I didn't know if I believed what they had told me – but it really lingered in my thoughts. In any case, I wasn't going to be getting any therapy. My father would never  have allowed me to see a therapist, and I wasn't going to be insured for much longer, seeing that eighteen was just a year and a half away.
Honestly, I don't know if they should even have told me this. It scared me. Because it rang true, even though the notion was also very distant to me. I didn't feel like I had that many layers for one. I felt like I was somewhat consistent. Sarah thought I was consistent. I realized that there might be things going on with me that I was not aware of. I mulled this information over with Sarah later on, but she wasn't that interested. It was also starting to dawn on me that all of the fighting had been pointless. If Sarah didn't care about something, than she didn't care. I became somewhat reflective of myself and my own insecurities, and perhaps jealousies of Sarah. I had also come to see it as some kind of unhealthy catharsis for me to get really upset – and maybe I was at fault for that. And Sarah wasn't going to change – and the change I wanted to see was the kind of change that happens with wisdom. I could not force Sarah to be wise if she wasn't wise. Since she had a boyfriend now, and that was her world.
In any case, Mike left me alone after that. Jenni must have told him to give me space. After being told something like that, it felt weird leaving the office with just a nursing class to look forward to. What could I even do about what she had told me? How could I trust myself? I was beginning to feel very much on my own.
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