#We accept the short lives because they’re worth it

[xfilesinamajor]

I lost both my sweet girls this week 😢 They had long, happy rat lives, and went within a day of each other (sister solidarity, I guess). I remind myself that a few years seems painfully short for us, but it’s a full lifetime for them.

And I feel like one of you out there could take that concept and write an amazing little Copia fic. He loves his rats so much, but he has many so you know he’d have to deal with losing them fairly often, too. Small lives 🥲 Any takers?

[rougepancake]

Pervert!

Ft. Giyuu, Shinobu, Obanai, Uzui, Gyomei, Sanemi, Rengoku, Mitsuri

Warnings: Panty/bra stealing, mentions of masturbation, just sexual themes overall. Afab reader. Minors and ageless blogs dni!

Summary: Just some headcanons! Not proofread!

GIYU TOMIOKA:

He’s so sly about it. Like the two of you will be hanging out and as soon as you turn around, he’s checking you out.

Though, he does feel a little guilty since you’re one of his closest friends (and his neighbor-), but at the end of the day, it won’t matter because he’ll be moaning your name until he passes out.

He’s the type to feel guilt in the moment and then think back on it later and be like “worth it.”

Giyu tells himself that it’s only natural to feel these types of things. (It is, right??) It kind of makes him feel less bad about it.

He walked in on you changing once and was never the same afterwards, I’m talking about the hardest hard on to ever befall a man ✋☠️

He’s not totally perverse though, because he respects your personal space and doesn’t try to hug or feel you up, but every time he gets off to you it makes him feel worse.

This man is borderline about to just get down on his knees and beg for you to be his because he’s so desperate for you.

However, he does enjoy catching sneak peeks of you when you’re in the shower or while you’re changing.

I mean you’re just right there so how can he not stare?

SHINOBU KOCHO

She sleeps over. All the time. Doesn’t even try to hide that she might be a women enjoyer.

She’ll do little things like “Y/N have you ever kissed a girl to see how it would feel? Why don’t we test it out to see if we’re lesbians hehe~”

You two also go skinny dipping together in the nearby lake frequently, and often times she’ll come up behind you and grope you jokingly (Because girl things amiright?)

This chick openly steals your bras and underwear. AND WEARS THEM. IN FRONT OF YOU.

SHE’S PUTTING SHIT DOWN AND YOU’RE NOT PICKING IT UP. LIKE THIS ISN’T PERVERSION, SHE IS HARD ON FLIRTING

She takes you out to places that are referred to as make out spots and likes to give you little sexual innuendos here and there, but you’re so oblivious it drives her up a wall

She literally offered to “demonstrate” how to properly give someone head AND THEN PROCEEDED TO EAT YOU OUT LIKE HER LIFE DEPENDED ON IT

Recently, however, you’ve noticed that some of your vibrators (the ones that weren’t gifts from Shinobu) have gone missing

Not to worry, they’re in good care as long as they’re with Shinobu, and honestly, so is she.

She is shameless.

IGURO OBANAI

He’s so bbg istg, but he’s a DEVIL when it comes to you

He lives for hugging you and brushing his fingers against your ass, or dropping things on purpose and watching you bend over to pick them up

Speaking of bending over- this man has an entire photo album dedicated to pics of your juicy ass

He is definitely the type to get turned on at the thought of you finding that album; He just loves the riskiness of it all

He takes you out for drinks and gets you a little tipsy so he has a reason to ‘watch over you’ because it’s simply not safe for a girl like you to be alone and wasted

Obanai also has pictures of you sleeping, ones where you can see how tight your shorts are and ones where you can see your perky nipples through the shirt you’re wearing

He really can’t wait until you find those ones.

Once after a night out together, he went through your room while you were asleep on your couch and stole one of your vibrators

That night, he used it until the battery died, shaking from pure overstimulation and excitement. However, he never got tired of moaning out your name desperately

He does feel some form of guilt though, after all, what he’s doing isn’t exactly morally acceptable. And he would have made his move a while back if he wasn’t so scared about ruining your friendship

So for now it’s just useless masturbation, pretending it’s your pretty little lips wrapped around his aching cock

TENGEN UZUI

Has more self control than Shinobu, but barely.

He openly slaps your ass in public, placing his hand in your back pocket as you walk together and glaring down anyone who gives you funky looks.

He’s also a lightweight, so whenever the two of you go out for drinks, it always ends in him flirting (poorly) with you and asking you to join in on a foursome with Hinatsuru, Makio, and Suma

He gets all whiny when you say no and offer for him to spend the night at your place so he doesn’t have to walk home alone, but then again, he’s gonna be at your house for a night 👀

The next thing you know, your favorite pair of panties are missing, along with your most worn bra and even your favorite perfume.

You ask him about it the next time you see him but he denies all accusations. Low and behold, the next time he spends the night, your bra and perfume return, but sadly, you’ll never see those panties ever again.

Whenever he’s wasted and at your place, he begs for you to bathe him to help him sober up, but the last time you did that, he got a hard on when you ran your hands down his broad shoulders.

Your friendship dynamic is the dumb idiot (Uzui) and the tired mom (You), so it’s often that you wind up taking care of him in situations like this.

However, unlike Obanai, he hardly has any photos of you, instead, he prefers to take sneak peeks while you’re showering

He gets even more painfully hard when he catches a glimpse of how the water runs down your gorgeous body, your head turned away and your ass facing him is the best sight he could ever behold.

But he’s not the type to masturbate alone, moaning your name like a slut, he takes it to Makio, Suma, and Hinatsuru, who are far from worried when he ‘accidentally’ moans out your name while they’re pleasuring him.

He’s sworn them to secrecy though, so they’ll never be able tell you how terribly he shakes when he calls out your name.

GYOMEI HIMEJIMA

Out of all of them, he’s definitely the one to feel the worst about it. Like, it goes against his views to be thinking of someone like this and it causes him to feel MASSIVE amounts of guilt.

Since he’s blind, he has to imagine what you look like, which isn’t hard because he had you describe yourself to him when you first met.

He sees you as the most perfect woman to ever grace the planet, he’s 100% smitten. He is legitimately in love with you 🙏🙏

The two of you share an apartment, and due to Gyomei’s strong desire for you, he’s considered moving out.

He hates it, he genuinely thinks it’s wrong to think of you in such a way. But Uzui and Rengoku told him that it’s totally normal for a man to think like that and not to worry about it.

There was one night when he had come back from work later than usual and had assumed you were asleep, only to hear you pleasuring yourself in your bedroom.

He may be blind but he sure as hell ain’t deaf. He’ll never be able rid his mind of how beautiful your voice sounded, of how lewd the noises you made were.

He’ll never stop picturing it either. There’ll be times when he’s at work and he thinks of you like that, immediately having to excuse himself and head for the restroom as soon as possible.

You just get him so unbelievably hard. It drives him mad how he can’t have you, and it creates a deep pit of shame in his stomach when he masturbates to your perfect being.

He can hardly hang out with you like he used to because he starts to think about how it would feel if he had you ride him on the couch, or if he bent you over the kitchen counter and made you scream.

While he dreams of fucking you endlessly, he’d die a happy man if you’d just kiss him.

SANEMI SHINAZUGAWA

You’ve been tutoring his brother recently, and he just can’t get you out of his head.

Like he loves the idea that you’re so willing to help Genya, so maybe you’d be able to help him?

Or better yet, he could help you.

He’s so mean whenever you come over, openly bullying you whenever you’re trying to teach Genya. He hopes that he’ll get to see tears run down your beautiful face one day, but instead, you only return his comments with a smirk

The first time you did this, it caught him off guard entirely. Like you put his ass in his place with ease and it left him hornier than ever.

He dreams of you on your knees, tears in your eyes and he fucks your throat harshly.

Poor Genya can’t catch a break either- He literally caught Sanemi jerking off to a pic of your ass, literally traumatizing the kid.

You take no bs, so you’re used to going over to their place, immediately shutting Sanemi up and watching him scurry of to do lord knows what.

He has videos of you insulting him and often uses them to get off, but he’d never tell you that even if he managed to pull you.

As far as he’s concerned, he’s going to dominate you, not the other way around. (He just wants you to sit on his face.)

KYOJURO RENGOKU

He’s such a gentleman when it comes to you. But like- whenever you grab his arm and drag him around, or bend down in front of him to look at something, he starts thinking some unholy things-

He does have a couple upskirt pics, but only out of curiosity. He wanted to know what it would feel like to do something risky like that (and Uzui kind of talked him into it-)

He loves hanging out with you, but you’re so innocent. He’d make sexual innuendos if he wasn’t afraid of you asking what he meant. The thought of someone ruining your innocence literally makes him break out in a cold sweat.

(Oh but he gets off to the thought of him ruining your innocence all right.)

He often wonders what it would be like to make you moan in pleasure, how easy would it be to get you to cry out in pleasure?

You’re just so sweet though, and it only makes him feel like a horrible friend when you meet up after he’s been masturbating to your cute little face.

Honestly, he couldn’t care less about how you would make him feel, he practically strives to make you happy. He’d eat you out endlessly if you turned around and asked him to.

I mean it. He’d do it no questions asked, right then and there. As long as you’re satisfied, then nothing else matters.

But it does suck when he’s stuck humping a pillow, pretending it’s you. He’d much rather it be the real deal.

MISTURI KANROJI

MY GOD SHE’S LITERALLY JUST LIKE SHINOBU

She uses the fact that you’ve been best friends for a long time as a way to “test things out”

She also occasionally says things like “Do you ever wonder what it would feel like to kiss a girl?” And “jokingly” flirts with you during sleepovers.

There was one time you two were dancing around and you told her you liked her jiggle physics, resulting in her flashing you

She once found where you kept your toys and judged you for how cheap they were. She mocked you for “not knowing how to pleasure yourself” and offered for you to use hers whenever you liked

You did take her up on that offer once, and she used it right after (cleaned of course)

She jokingly gropes you along with you groping her and just messing around with your sexualities in general. (Just normal gal pal things-)

Though, you’ve always taken her flirting as a joke, since you’ve always been flirtatious with your friends.

She loves cuddling with you on your couch when you watch movies, making fun of the characters and eating popcorn together.

She definitely takes a lot of advice from Shinobu, which is where she gets most of her confidence from. If it were anyone else, she would be a blushing mess.

She’s just a fan of physical contact in general. Like hugs and little cheek kisses in general-

My god she loves physical contact so much that like the slightest touch has her shivering a little. Full blown goosebumps.

[epinebleue]

love me now (m) | 05

in which you go for a night drive.

pairing: johnny suh x reader (female)

genre: established relationship!au, mature.

warnings: explicit sexual content, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), car sex, mention of past toxic relationships.

chapter index

Most times, Friday nights are pretty lively.

Sometimes, you go to your favorite club, whose owner is a good friend of yours. If you’re not in the mood for clubbing, you order pizza and watch a movie before making out on the couch.

But today is different. You’re bored as hell, having lost all interest in the movie you’re supposed to be watching. Johnny must feel the same, because when you turn to look at him, he’s scrolling through his Instagram feed aimlessly with one hand, caressing your leg with the other.

“Why don’t we go out?” He suddenly says, blocking his phone and leaving it on the coffee table.

“I don’t feel like partying.”

“I didn’t mean to party.” He corrects. “Something like a night drive.”

That sounds much better, so you accept right away. You pick something comfortable, not bothering to glance at the rest of the clothes in your wardrobe. When you reach the entrance, you see that Johnny has chosen something sporty, too. He grabs his keys from the keyholder next to the intercom, opening the door for you.

“Why don’t we get McDonald’s?”

You’re unable to contain your excitement, smiling as you get in the elevator, and pushing the parking button. Johnny grabs your cheeks and kisses your forehead so delicately that you think you’ll melt in his arms.

“Anything for you, babe.”

You sit on the passenger seat, immediately demanding the aux cord. Johnny doesn’t even fight it, knowing it’ll be a waste of time. It’s a fact that you’re in charge of the music when you travel by car. It’s also a fact that won't change anytime soon.

The car starts moving, and Johnny drives towards the nearest McDonald’s.

The song you’ve chosen plays softly in the background as you observe the streetlights through the window.

“How come we’ve never done this before?” 

Johnny simply shrugs, eyes fixed on the road ahead. “Maybe it wasn’t the right time yet.”

“Wow.” You nod, feigning being impressed. “Deep.”

You open the window on your side, the night breeze hitting your face. You cross your arms over the window, your eyes drawn to the city lights that seem endless.

New York’s beauty is truly hypnotizing.

This is the city where you were born and raised; where you studied; in which you met most of your friends. It’s the city that gave you Johnny, and that makes it much more special. 

Johnny pulls into the drive-thru, steering the wheel with his palm. The technique makes your stomach tingle. He always looks so hot while driving, you could watch him for hours.

There’s only one car in front of you, so they prepare your order rather quickly. To be honest, you’ve been craving a burger, fries, and ice cream for a while, so you don’t hold yourself back. You’ll eat everything, even if it means having a stomachache later. It’ll have been worth it.

You pay, then move to the parking lot. You give Johnny his burger, which is huge, and fish for your fries at the bottom of the bag.

“I remember that when I was little,” Johnny says, “I celebrated my birthday at McDonald’s. They even gave me a paper crown.”

“That’s what I call luxury.”

“Mom sent me the photo yesterday.”

Johnny takes his phone out of his pocket, scrolling down the gallery until he finds said picture. A big smile crosses your face when he shows it to you.

Johnny couldn’t be more than six years old. His round face is the first thing you notice. Then, you look at his mom, who is holding him in her lap. She looked so pretty with her short hair and dark lipstick. In all honesty, she hasn’t changed much. They’re both wearing a paper crown shaped like a clown.

“Your mom’s so beautiful.”

“What about her son?”

He leans forward, brushing your cheek with the tip of his nose.

“He’s even more beautiful.”

Johnny kisses you, satisfied with the answer. He loves compliments, especially if they come from you. He gets all shy and smiley, and his cheeks go pink.

It’s crazy to think that, when you met Johnny, you found him a bit intimidating. He was tall and only wore black clothes, plus his resting bitch face didn’t help at all. But once you started talking and got to know each other better, you realized he was a human-shaped teddy bear rather than a jerk.

His voice snaps you out of your memories and brings you back to the present time.

“What if I buy another burger?”

You gasp, laughing in disbelief. “Babe, no!”

“Why not?” He mops, discharging the wrap on the empty bag placed in between the seats.

“One is enough.” You insist.

“They’re small! Two is the perfect amount.”

“They seem small because your hand is huge. If you eat another one, cholesterol will atrophy your arteries and, eventually, you’ll die.” Your tone is so serious that Johnny starts laughing seconds later, covering his face with his hands. “Why are you laughing? I’m right!” Now you’re laughing, too.

“That was so mean!”

“It's a medical fact, Johnny!.”

“Fine, you convinced me.”

Once you’ve finished your meal, Johnny drives aimlessly around the city before deciding where to go next. There’s a park from which you can see New York’s skyline, so that’s the destination. Johnny manages to find a secluded spot from which you have a nice view of the city, along with some privacy.

“This might be the best idea I’ve had this week.”

“Or this month.”

Your soft laughs fill the car for a few seconds before going back to silence. Johnny glances in your direction, watching you get lost in the stars and the lights of the city that watched you grow up.

“Everything okay?”

You hum, nodding. “I’m just… reminiscing.”

“A penny for your thoughts.”

You take a deep breath, your eyes never darting away from the view beneath you.

“During my last year of high school, I dated this boy. He was handsome and so, so funny. He treated me like a queen and sometimes made me wonder if he had just jumped right out of a fairy tale. We had the most romantic six months and then, he left me. He never said why, he didn’t even dare to break up with me in person. He told my best friend and asked her to give me the message.”

“What a fucker.” Johnny mumbles.

“For the longest time, I thought I was the problem because I wasn’t pretty enough, sexy enough, smart enough for him. I felt so worthless and sad that I kind of started to drift away. I allowed pretty fucked up things to happen to me that I’ve tried to forget.” Johnny grabs your hand, caressing the palm with his thumb. You’ve got his full attention. “Years later, I started dating again, but I… I was scared all the time. Not that they were horrible people, I was just afraid that they would leave me and make me return to the toxic relationship I had with myself. And then, you came around.”

You turn your head, looking for Johnny’s eyes. He’s looking at you with those fond orbs that you adore.

“Not once have you made me doubt myself. In any way.”

He cups your cheeks and pecks your lips, moving away just enough for you to look him in the eye again.

“I’ll never give you a reason to be scared.”

You give him a reassuring smile.

“I know.”

Slowly, Johnny starts kissing you, his lips soft and warm. The tip of his tongue touches your mouth and you open it, giving him full access. His wet muscle brushes yours and, delicately, Johnny holds the back of your neck, pulling you closer. You reach for his T-shirt, your clouded mind looking for the craved contact, any kind of contact.

“I need you.” He mumbles against his lips, and it’s all you need to hear.

You straddle his lap, trying to find a comfortable position in the driver's seat of the car. Johnny’s basketball shorts are thin enough to let you feel his boner against your core, and you find satisfaction in the fact that he’s just as worked up as you are. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Johnny squeezes you against his clothed chest, so tightly that you don’t know where you start and where Johnny ends.

You could get caught, you could get arrested, but none of that fades you. Right now, the only thing in your mind is Johnny. Johnny licking the length of your neck, Johnny biting where he knows it’ll make you hiss his name. You drag your hips, humping his boner, and when Johnny moans against your mouth, the little clarity you have slips through your fingers like water.

“What about taking this to the back?”

Johnny’s nod is enough of an answer. Before you know it, you’re making your way into the backseat, Johnny on your heels.

Your hands untie the lace of your sweatpants the moment you fall on the seat, Johnny lingering in the door, watching you. You take them off under his gaze, pressing your back against the door behind you and opening your legs to let him peek at the wet patch in your underwear. It’s not long before you take it off, too, the crisp air making you shiver.

“You’re going to drive me crazy.”

“Come and punish me, then.”

You straddle his lap once again when Johnny gets in the car, your lips crashing against his. He looks for the door’s handle in the dark, slamming it, before taking off both his shorts and boxers in a swift movement.

You feel Johnny’s hand sneaking in between your bodies, then he’s forcing his length into you.

New York is a beautiful city, especially at night, but you’ve got the best view in front of you. Johnny lets his head fall back, his pretty mouth open and gasping for air as you start bouncing on his cock without warning, too eager to wait.

Johnny looks at you through half-opened eyes, his hands falling on your waist to give a particularly rough thrust that makes you gasp.

“You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.” He whispers against your neck. “Especially when I’m balls-deep inside you.”

“I’m even prettier when you make me cum.”

Johnny’s fingers dig into your ass, guiding you up and down his cock.

“Is that so?”

You nod, biting your lips at the feeling of his tip hitting that spot that makes you go feral.

“You should see for yourself.”

Johnny takes it seriously, hugging your waist and fixing you in place, his pace getting quicker.  

You didn’t expect to get railed in the backseat of his car when he offered a midnight drive, but here you are, wishing you were completely naked to scratch his broad shoulders, back, and chest, which he loves.

Today, he’ll have to settle for the mark of your teeth in his collarbone.

He pants in your ear, his hot breath fanning the droplets of sweat that decorate your neck like diamonds. You whine and wiggle, trying to break free from his grip.

“I want to ride you.”

Johnny usually makes you beg a little more, so you’re pleasantly surprised when he lets go of your waist.

You grind back and forth, making the most out of this new freedom he has granted you. It’s so hot inside the car that the windows are all fogged and your top sticks to your body. You take it off, much to Johnny’s delight, who grabs your breasts and squeezes them.

His hands move up and reach your sweaty neck, pushing away the strands of hair glued to the skin to lock one of them behind it. He uses it to hold you down, retraining your movements.

You open your mouth to protest, but he kisses you before you can say anything, rubbing your clit with his free hand, making you tremble, a choked moan ricocheting against the walls of the vehicle.

“Sorry, baby.” He says even though he’s not sorry at all, thrusting faster. “You can be in charge another time.”

The brutal pace of both his hips and hand is enough to make you forget why you were mad in the first place. He pounds into you as if you hadn’t had sex in months, he growls like an animal when you try to fuck him back, eyes shut close to focus on the feelings of his cock making its way into you over and over again.

Your legs hurt, yet you don’t want to stop.

You don’t last long, white sparkles dance around in the darkness when you reach your high.

Johnny fucks you through it for as long as he can, pressing his hips to yours as he fills you up, your name in his mouth like a song.

You rest your head on his shoulder, allowing him to caress your hair, you both trying to catch your breaths.

“Was that good?”

“I’ve got your cum inside me.” You remark. “So there’s your answer.”

Johnny’s chest shakes with his laugh, scratching your scalp with his fingertips. You would fall asleep if it wasn’t for his voice breaking the silence.

“Promise me you won’t freak out.”

“What?”

“There’s a car parked right next to us.”

No reposting or translations allowed.

© epinebleue 2023

[sleepymoha]

Chilshi death headcannons? Mainly with Senshi’s reaction and coping mechanisms after?

Hmm death headcanons…

Well for starters, we all know by now that Chilchuck is terrible when it comes to expressing and communicating his emotions, but he does exchange letters with Flertom from time to time. I don’t really think this aspect of his character would change after getting together with Senshi, and I think it would be nice of him to ask Marcille to give some of his pre-written letters to Senshi every few years or so.

And well… I honestly don’t really think Senshi would cope particularly well with Chilchuck’s passing, at least in the first few years. He is no stranger to tragedy, but Chilchuck being all old and sickly could remind him of his parents in a way, bedridden and weak and all. But, just like when he was a child, he has a fairly decent sized support group by his side, ready to step in and help out a grieving friend in need.

I think he’d be a honorary member of the small half-foot community on the Island, and an active one at that, especially after Chilchuck’s passing. Having learned and getting first-hand experience of what a half-foot can go through in life thanks to Chilchuck, he’d probably find closure and comfort in trying to make other half-foots’ lives easier.

Lots of ups and downs, good days being washed away by bad ones, seeing Chilchuck’s favorite mug making him smile one day, then pushing him into a deep depression the next. Still, once being offered to move into the castle, or just away from their shared home, he’d adamantly say no. That home is the proof of their love, their past, a life they built together, how could he disrespect it by rejecting it.

I don’t think he’d regret their love, he’d never do that, he’d just mourn the fact they were only given such a short while to spend together.

Despite Chilchuck only being part of his life for such a short while, I think he’d try to live life to the fullest, living for the both of them in a way. Going on adventures to see beautiful places, places they never got to see together because Chilchuck was too busy at his locksmith shop, spending more time with their loved ones - especially after getting reminded once again just how quickly short-lived races’ lives can fly past. He would go on long hikes, discover dungeons when life becomes too mundane to his taste, but he’d never stay away from their home for too long.

I honestly don’t really think he would visit Chilchuck’s grave all too often, but he would probably carry something of Chilchuck’s with him, the way he does with Grillin’s helmet. Maybe Chilchuck’s lockpick tools? They’re small, compact, and full of memories, and despite being in fairly decent shape - he tries to maintain them regularly, even though it isn’t his strongest suit - he’d never dare to use them, in fear of breaking them.

I don’t think his grieving process could turn violent, he respects the order of life too much to do something he might regret later. He has accepted this outcome of Chilchuck dying and him staying for a bit longer when they started their relationship, but it doesn’t mean he was ready to actually experience being alone so soon. Still, living a life full of regrets isn’t a tale worth telling once they reunite, so he aims to live life to the fullest.

[marxistcomedy]

Anyone working in counter-propaganda can testify to a curious experience: we’ll put in hours of careful research collecting an impeccable set of resources that undermines some warmongering narrative, and we’ll eagerly share it with someone who claims to despise racism in all its forms — say, an outspoken opponent of the West’s so-called “War on Terror.” Unexpectedly, we are met with a response that is somewhere between chilly reticence and downright hostility. What’s going on?

From our perspective, we’re offering water to a person who’s self-identified as thirsty, and yet they react as if we were trying to poison them! They turn on a dime to defend the same institutions whose lies they were denouncing just moments before. At this point the sense of pride and accomplishment that comes from seeing through propaganda and putting puzzle pieces together into a satisfying historical account gets brutally transformed into its exact opposite: a sense of crushing defeat. In response to this bitter experience, many researchers — serious people, with plenty of experience reading and writing, and sometimes even of being published! — lash out. They decide that people have been “brainwashed” beyond the point where they can be reached by words or rational appeal. They “realize” that the masters of propaganda have been far more successful than we first imagined: it turns out we’re not David fighting Goliath, we’re more like an ant facing an asteroid.

The same inquisitive nature that first led them to unravel war propaganda narratives begins to feed an even larger psycho-historical narrative, and nihilism takes hold. The tragic cycle begins to appear eternal: innocent, well-meaning, hard-working folks are, time and again, viciously tricked by the scapegoating of a new rogue in the gallery — Indigenous, Black, Spanish, Jewish, Soviet, Vietnamese, Cuban, Serbian, Muslim, Libyan, Syrian, Korean, Venezuelan, Russian, Chinese. Due to the sheer power of propaganda and mass-media, the masses helplessly fall for hatred and volunteer for war, even though it comes at a very high cost to ourselves, our loved ones, and our ideals (religion, environmentalism, etc.). Sadly, the innate human propensity to “hate the Other” seals our fate as a society… or something along those lines.

I am going to argue that this narrative is nonsense. It tries to pass off as universal and eternal something that in reality is particular and ephemeral. In short: Westerners aren’t helpless innocents whose minds are injected with atrocity propaganda, science fiction-style; they’re generally smug bourgeois proletarians who intelligently seek out as much racist propaganda as they can get their hands on. This is because it fundamentally makes them feel better about who they are and how they live. The psychic and material costs are rationally worth the benefits. As for those anti-imperialists who don’t participate in this festival of xenophobia — and here I include myself — we have our own elitist consolation: we accept the tragedy of masses of gullible sheeple falling for cunning propaganda because having overcome it flatters our own intelligence. The more we condemn society’s stupidity, the smarter we feel in comparison.

But am I not just worsening the problem, aggravating our hopelessness, by criticizing the critics in a way that suggests that no one escapes ideological self-flattery? I don’t think so. Paradoxically, it brings us all back to a more even and possibility-rich playing field.

The prevailing populist narrative grants the People (of the West) moral innocence by attributing to them utter stupidity and naivety; I invert the equation and demand a Marxist narrative instead: Westerners are willingly complicit in crimes because they instinctively and correctly understand that they benefit as a class (as a global bourgeois proletariat) from the exploitation enabled by their military and their propaganda (in Gramscian: organs of coercion and consent). We’re not as stupid as we’re made out to be. This means that we can be reasoned with, that there is a way out.

[emphasis mine]

[copperbadge]

Am I working on Royals/Ramblers? No. Am I writing one-off short fics based on AO3 comments? Might be!

@annechen-melo pointed out that in Fete, Eddie asks Gregory what passes for diner food in Shivadh culture, and Gregory replies Eddie might know better than he would, meanwhile a book later we find out about Shivadh Fried Breakfast, which is clearly exactly the kind of food Eddie would want to know about. I was like “Haha yeah he maybe just didn’t think about it” and then I realized Eddie’s reaction and...wrote a short story in comments. :D 

---

Gregory wasn't aware Eddie had even gone out for breakfast until he heard his name called, looked up from his desk, and was pelted in the head with something cold and greasy. It bounced off and fell to his desk, where it turned out to be a fried chicken wing.

Eddie stood in the doorway. He looked incensed.

"I don't know what I did," Gregory said carefully, "but whatever made you just throw a chicken wing at my head, I'm sorry I did it."

"Fried breakfast," Eddie announced. Gregory gave him a mystified look. "I have lived here for FIVE MONTHS, Greg, I have fried so much food in your kitchen, five months' worth of fried food, and I had to discover Shivadh fried breakfast for myself. I'm DATING THE SHIVADH KING AND -- "

"Okay, okay, message received," Gregory said, holding up his hands, one of which still held the chicken wing.

"Message NOT received! I asked you about diner food! You said you didn't know!"

"Well, I mean," Gregory began, then ducked pre-emptively as Eddie took another chicken wing out of the bag in his hands. Instead of throwing it, he sat down at Gregory's desk and began eating it. "It's not diner food per se. It's. You know. It's beach food."

"How have you gone five months without ever once taking me out for fried breakfast?" Eddie asked. "How do you live in a country where you can just say to someone 'fried breakfast' and they serve you a full meal, and not eat it at least once a week?"

"Well, it's not great for the cardiac health," Gregory said carefully, "and as you say you've fried a lot of food for me, so...I wasn't really missing it."

"I literally built my career on the kind of place that will serve me hash browns and fried mushrooms and fried dumplings on top of the mushrooms all on one fast-disintegrating paper plate!" Eddie seethed.

"I could go for some fried mushrooms," Gregory said thoughtfully. Eddie seethed harder. "Okay, okay. I am sorry. It didn't occur to me. I don't eat it a lot! And your food was so good I didn't miss it."

Eddie subsided a little at that, but he waved the surviving portion of his chicken wing as he spoke.

"I will accept your apology, conditionally," he said. "Tomorrow is Saturday and I want you to take me to the best Fried Breakfast place you know of."

"Well, it won't be wherever you went today," Gregory said. Eddie frowned at him. "Traditional fried breakfast shacks don't serve chicken wings. They think it's bougie."

"....you let me get BOUGIE fried breakfast?" Eddie yelled.

"Did you get a sufganiyah with it?" Gregory asked.

"No! Was I supposed to?"

"Well, you have to order it King's Touch, if you do that they give you the donut, or they're supposed to anyway. It's because dad likes a jelly donut."

Eddie stared at him. "So you're telling me that not only did I get bougie fried breakfast, I could have had a jelly donut on top of it?"

"I need you to remember that you love me and I'm taking you out for fried breakfast tomorrow," Gregory said.

"Oh, now you're not just taking me for fried breakfast, we're going on a tour," Eddie said. "You're taking me to at least three different fried breakfasts."

"Three," Gregory repeated faintly.

"I no longer trust you to actually know where the best fried breakfast is. I'm texting your dad and Jerry and Alanna to ask them," Eddie said, texting literally as he spoke. "I will also be asking Simon, who will probably swear at me in French. We are going to do a tourism video entirely based around fried breakfast, because the world needs to know and you, king of this entire country, are falling down on the job."

"Well, that's why I have you," Gregory reasoned. "I'll, you know, pass the tax reforms, you tell the world about how we...miraculously don't die of heart disease in our thirties after being raised on fried breakfast."

Eddie's phone beeped. He looked down at it.

"Your dad says he won't tell me unless I sign an NDA," he said.

"Man's got to protect his access to sufganiyot," Gregory remarked. "Please don't throw chicken wings at him."

"I save all my ballistic chicken wings for you," Eddie informed him, sighing and getting up. He leaned across the desk to kiss Gregory where the wing had hit him in the forehead. "You are a hopeless case and I love you."

"You are the weirdest person I know and I love you too," Gregory said. "Go, enjoy your bougie chicken wings."

"Tomorrow morning! Bright and early, fried breakfast!" Eddie announced as he left. Gregory sighed and made a note to weasel out of his father the name of his favorite fry shack. If Dad wanted him married off, he had a vested interest in keeping Eddie happy.

[stardustloki]

Acceptable Losses

Captured and held hostage by Ventress, Rex waits for death. The Republic will never agree to her terms, the lives of he and his men have little strategic value. They will be written off as acceptable losses.

What he isn't expecting, is Ahsoka.

Warnings: description of dead bodies near the start!

Read it on ao3 here.

Or below the cut...

“- I do hope we can come to some sort of agreement.”

Rex could hear the smirk in Ventress’s voice even as he kept his head bowed low, staring fixedly at the ground. He observed the moss that clung to the cracks in the flagstones, wondering at the ways life continued, despite everything. It was a pity that his small squad of survivors wouldn’t cling to it like the moss, that they would soon be dead, bacteria and maggots thriving on their corpses. Life would go on - just not theirs.

He wondered if it was normal to get philosophical this close to death.

He’d managed to pull his small reconnaissance squad through the battle, only for them to end up here, hostages of the Separatists. If he tilted his head slightly to the left he could see Fraise’s head, eyes wide, staring… terrified. And, it was only his head, for that was where it had rolled after Ventress had decapitated him, to serve as an example for the rest of them.

Kneeling here, inside an half-destroyed temple, on flagstones cracked from the Separatists' earlier bombing campaign, he wondered if Fraise hadn’t gotten the better end of the stick. For him, it had been over, instantly, in one horrible moment. Rex and the rest of his men would have to wait for their execution.

For neither Generals Skywalker nor Kenobi had picked up Ventress’s holocall. No, that had been Admiral Yularen. And, as much as he knew that Skywalker and Kenobi would have agreed to the prisoner exchange, or pulled out all the stops to rescue him, he knew that the admiral was a military man, and he knew what his answer would be. Yularen would make the right decision.

Wishing that it had been Skywalker or Kenobi was utterly selfish of him, and in his last moments he found himself despising himself for it. Whatever resources it would take to rescue his men, whatever hell the release of the high-profile prisoners Ventress was demanding, it would never be worth his life, nor the lives of his men. It would only lead to the deaths of more civilians or clones.

So now he waited, waited for the judgement that would fall on the heads of he and his men.

He hated the waiting. Wished he’d been granted a quick death in battle, the same one that every clone trooper hoped for.

“We do not accept your terms. We will not bargain with you, Ventress.”

And there were the words. The sensible, logical words of any competent military leader, the words that-

“Wait!”

Jolting, Rex risked a glance up under his eyelids at where Ventress held the holoprojector, wondering if he’d get one last glimpse of the commander before he went, wondering what she was doing there.

He could just see the appearance of the top of her forehead and montrals as the admiral was pushed slightly out of frame, too short to be picked up by the holoprojector.

“We will be negotiating. We will!” Ahsoka's panicked voice crackled through the comm. “Just give us a second to discuss it! Don’t kill them!”

“I won’t wait long,” Ventress warned. “If I even think you’re sending Skywalker or Kenobi here, I’ll execute them all. Slowly. Painfully.”

“They won’t be! I promise!” And if Rex had ever had any hope it sank at these words. “They’re on Coruscant. They couldn’t be here for two days even with the latest hyperdrive!”

“Good,” Ventress said. “Now chop-chop, before I start chopping things off.”

Then the connection cut.

They waited.

And they waited.

And they waited.

Seconds dragging into what felt like hours. He wanted to live, he wished they would last longer. He didn’t want to die like this, he wished it would end now.

Most of all, because the deaths of he and his men were foregone conclusions, he hoped that Ahsoka wouldn’t be watching. Hoped that the admiral would be able to explain the situation to her in a way that would allow her to accept it and, eventually, move on.

After several minutes had passed, Ventress’s comm chimed again.

Yularen didn’t bother with pleasantries. Just informed her that he was there to discuss terms.

Ventress frowned. “If you try anything. I warn you, I have plenty of droids on the lookout for your ships.”

“I’m not sacrificing more men’s lives for ten men you’re unlikely to release even after we’ve come to an agreement.” There was no emotion in his tone. Sensible.

“Nine men,” Ventress told him. There was silence on the other end of the line. “Where’s the brat?”

“Not here. I’m not having her here if we cannot come to an agreement.”

Rex breathed in a sigh of relief. At least she wouldn’t be there to watch.

The negotiations dragged. Never, as they haggled over his worth, had Rex felt so much like an object, a useful playing piece - not even back on Kamino, when they’d been investigating the sudden lightening of his previously dark hair.

What it came down to was how much he deserved to live, when you compared his life’s worth to the death that releasing the imprisoned Separatists could cause. Did he matter, when in the future, his release could result in the loss of ten times as many clones?

No. But he wanted to live. And more than that his chest ached for the lives of the men kneeling on the ground beside him. He knew in his bones that they had a right to live, that they should have another chance at laughing in the mess-hall with the rest of their vode, that they deserved to see more planets, more stars.

But that wasn’t how life worked.

Good people died, people you cared about, in pointless ways. And there was nothing you could do about it except keep going until you died too.

He didn’t understand what had happened to the admiral. Didn’t understand why he was drawing this out. What was the point?

Just let it end.

It was only when Ventress’s lightsabers went flying through the air that he understood.

A small shape dropped from the ceiling as Ventress spun, screaming in rage, only to find Ahsoka’s dual blades igniting, one held to her throat, the other to her stomach.

Her eyes shone with a determined fury, and at once Rex felt his mind igniting with a hope and fear that swirled deep in his stomach. He wanted to believe they were saved, that this last minute rescue would mean that they would all get out of this alive, that they would get the second chance he hadn’t dared hope for. But, Ahsoka was here too now. And, if this went wrong, she would be worth a whole lot more than a bunch of clones. He dreaded what would happen to her then.

“Your shielding has improved,” Ventress drawled. “Unfortunately, that doesn’t change the fact that my droids have their blasters pointed at your precious clones.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Ahsoka replied coolly. “But if you kill them, the tinnies should know there will be nothing to stop me gutting you. They should ask themselves if they’re willing to report to Count Dooku that their choices led to your death.”

“You’re not going to kill me, you’re a jedi.”

“Oh yeah?” Ahsoka asked, moving her lightsabers closer to ventress’s body, voice angrier than Rex had ever heard before. “You wanna test that?”

She stepped around Ventress, keeping her lightsabers in the same position, but making sure that she now had direct eye contact with the visibly nervous B1 droids surrounding Rex and his men.

“Walk out of here,” Ahsoka Tano grinned, eyes alight in a way that was disconcerting, her sharp canines glinting in the light, and Rex could suddenly see past her her fragile exterior, past her skinny and awkward limbs that she refused to cover with even the most minimal of armour, to the predators her ancestors had been. “Walk out of here, and she might just live.”

Rex watched, open mouthed, as, despite Ventress’s protests, the tinnies did just that.

[addictivepsychology]

Day 109

I’m really sick of my job

Every day something is wrong

It’s never just okay

Everything is never just ok

There’s always chaos and we’re to blame

They’re kids, it’s supposed to be chaotic

In the most fun way

I need alcohol

Fuck this

Fuck this job

Fuck your guys for making me feel not worth it

I want to cry so bad

On my lunch

When I go home

I just can’t

I’m going to my bosses house tomorrow though, the one I like, the one with the brains

There’s the big boss,

Then the smart one,

Then the other one

The other one doesn’t like me, she’s rude to me, and she has favorites, which obviously isn’t me anymore

I feel like she’s scared of me, nervous of me to say the least, and

I’m not sure why

Kind of

I guess I’ve always been a little intimidating to people in the workplace,

Like I go for the throat

Because I will if I have to

Especially if you’re my boss doing something you’re not supposed to,

But I haven’t been to that point yet

Yet

You know what’s annoying to,

They aren’t directly going to much bad in my direction, they’re mostly okay to me,

It’s everyone else,

Because they trust me,

But it’s kind of not fair

But I guess it is

I don’t want this position when everyone else wants it but wants to use me as the puppet for it,

I’m so much happier doing other things like babysitting and driving,

I love kids, I love making a difference,

But this, this is not love or kids or making a difference,

This is pleasing my boss ,

An adult human who can’t regulate her emotions,

Who can’t effectively communicate her wants and needs,

Who can’t delegate tasks based on an educated decision,

Oh yeah , a kid threw up today, poor girl,

And two kids got hurt, had to call all their parents,

I think I talked with 5 parents today,

Whatever, that’s the least of my worries,

That’s the easy part,

I’ve always gotten bad advice from the other boss,

The smart one gives me good, sound advice so I try to ask her.

But the other boss gets mad when I talk to the smart one saying that she’s my head person so why am I talking to other people,

I fucking hate that work is taking up this much space, but for now,

This is life

I guess I’m looking for other jobs,

Maybe I’ll float doing uber deliveries and babysitting while looking for remote work,

I’m just so sick of waking up to go to bed,

And trying to be on someone else’s eating schedule

And sleep schedule

And schedule

I’m just tired of living for other people

I want to live for myself

We talked on the phone last night and this morning

I always have fun in our conversations,

You make me laugh, and keep me entertained

As much as you keep yourself entertained

And as much as you make yourself laugh

I’m glad you read these

I have one person to talk to about literally everything

And doesn’t judge my decisions

Who’s supportive

I can’t believe you still talk to me after knowing everything

I guess you’ve shown me that I can be accepted for all parts of me

I have trouble feeling that way when bad shit happens,

I’m not worth what other people tell me, I’m worth what I value in myself

I’m always excited to talk to you again

ButI still wonder what you look like,

Would we meet In person by first look if we saw each other,

You say you can pick me out of a crowd but I don’t think you could,

I guess because of my height maybe,

Im so fucking tired,

I need to wash my hair,

I should workout,

I’ve eaten too many calories today to not workout,

Fuck,

I just want to cry, drink, and sleep,

Maybe that’s what I’ll do,

But workout first

I don’t have enough time for anything tonight

Maybe I’ll drink in the shower

This is useless

I hope their mom comes home soon

I’m babysitting twins who are in 4th grade

I love them

But parents always stay out later than what they tell me

Finally home,

Got my ice cream

Did my little short full body workout

Have to shower

I feel like I have no time

Finally showered, having a drink

Feeling so

Much

Better

Someone’s I drink to see if I have anxiety

Sometimes I become a hypochondriac and forget that shit just happens

So having a drink calms me down and reminds me that I’m fine

And that if something is really wrong with me, the alcohol would make it worse

But only one, then I need sleep

I’m exhausted

Princess

Only a few more days until our weekend!

It feels like forever since I’ve seen you

It’ll be a few weeks in between each time I see you

But that’ll make it that much sweeter

I ruin anything close anyways

I enjoy what we have

I enjoy what I have

I have to finish packing and wash my hair and get ready,

That’ll be tomorrow and Thursday

Friday will be the work party then the long drive

I’ve been talking to a lot of my friends often

And it’s so nice

To be reminded that I have girls who support me

I love them so much

I finally have some women friends

And now I might move away

It’s usually how it works out though

It’ll give me a reason to drive and stay somewhere else

Which is what I love

Right

Being anywhere else

Since I was raised in chaos

I’m excited for my personal life

My work life can fuck off

[lovesosweeet]

better left unsaid // cth

chapter twelve

in which orion has leukemia, and calum doesn't know.

calum hood x fem!oc

read other chapters

august 1, 2018 los angeles, california orion

My moms come up from San Diego for my first chemotherapy appointment. While I’m grateful that they’re here, I hate that they’re just another group of people who want me to tell Calum. Emelia is working today. She had offered to take the day off, but since my moms are here, I figured she should go to work.

“Honey, do you need us to take Duke while you’re getting treatment?” Mama asks.

I sigh, not wanting to think about yet another round of logistics. I feel like I’m having to rearrange my entire life because of the diagnosis and Cal being on tour. Granted, I don’t even know how much of my life is worth getting into order. Does it really matter if I take my classes if I’m going to be dead in a year or two? Taking care of Duke does matter, of course, but he’s not a very active dog and I want him here while I’m living alone temporarily.

“No, I can keep him here. He’s already got a lot of changes with Calum gone,” I tell her. She nods.

“Of course. Let us know if you change your mind, okay?”

I nod.

We get ready to leave, prepping a cold bottle of water for me to have, along with a box of crackers and a bottle of fruit punch Gatorade. In the pamphlet that Dr. Harris gave me about my chemotherapy drug, it mentioned that I’d likely be nauseous after receiving the IV of the essentially poisonous fluid. I don’t think that they’ll do much to remedy the discomfort, but I want to at least try to dispel the symptoms.

Mom and Mama insist that I also bring a sweatshirt in case I get cold, and I just do what they say. I am not in the mood to debate anything with them. I bring one of Cal’s to have a piece of him with me at the hospital. It’s not the same as having him there to support me, but it’s the closest I’ll get to it.

We drive the short distance to the hospital. My appointment is at 9:00, but they’d woken up super early to be able to pick me up and take me to the appointment. I got a text from Calum at 3 am when they landed in Tokyo and I’m so thankful he didn’t call like he’d promised. I would’ve woken up and I’m already exhausted as it is. The chemo is about to make it all worse.

I check in at the same desk that I’d come to before, but this time I don’t see Russell. A young, pretty blonde nurse calls me back instead and she explains that they’re doing more tests to provide a baseline while we track the chemo’s progress over the next few months. The tests include another blood draw, and they let me lay down, but this time I don’t pass out thankfully. Once the initial dizziness wears off, we walk down the hallway into another room, but this one is far larger.

There are several sterile-looking arm chairs, some of which have patients sitting in them already, an IV hooked up to them. I am sad when I see the youngest patient is a boy who can’t be more than 9, bald, hooked up to the chemo transfusion, and reading a Magic Treehouse book. He's so young and he's already received a death sentence: a cancer diagnosis.

The blonde nurse directs me to my own chair, which has a table next to it that has a “WELCOME, ORION” sign and a bottle of apple juice and a pack of cookies. Wow, way to make a girl feel special while she's dying.

I take a seat in my chair, and my moms stay right in front of me, even though they have chairs available for guests very much available. Maybe I get it from them — the inability to accept help. I can't imagine that they'll stand there the whole time. We're supposed to be here pretty much all day.

Another nurse comes over with a cart of medical supplies. She's older, around my moms' age, and she greets us with a 'good morning' that I just ignore. It's not a good morning.

"Let's get you started. Any questions?" She's already grabbing my arm and wiping it with a disinfecting cloth, prepping it for an IV. The thought of an IV gives me chills, so I try not to stare as she puts it in and then hooks me up to the drip of the chemotherapy drug. I don't want to think about it.

"No questions," I tell the nurse.

She smiles at me and hands me a remote. "Press this if you have any issues. I'll be back in a moment to check on you."

I try to look anywhere except for the bend in my arm where she just inserted my IV. Mom opens her mouth to say something right as my phone starts to ring. It's Calum.

"Hello?" I answer instantly. I've been waiting to hear his voice. I know it's some ungodly early hour in Tokyo, but I'm sure he's got a completely messed up sleep schedule right now, and that won't be changing for a few weeks until they're consistently in the same time zone for a few days.

"Hi baby," Cal's tired voice comes through my speaker.

"How was the flight?"

My moms mouth to me that they're going to go grab coffee and I nod, appreciating the chance to talk to Cal without them eavesdropping.

"Long and boring. Ash kept snoring for most of it." He sounds so tired. I've never understood how they could tour like they do. The different time zones, constant busy-ness, late nights... it's exhausting.

"I'm sorry."

Cal laughs. "Don't be sorry, you had absolutely nothing to do with it. How are you? What are you doing today?"

My breath catches in my throat. I have to lie again. My stomach sinks and I feel guilty all over again, but I don't have time to dwell on that. I have to tell him something. "My moms are here. Probably just gonna take a short hike and get some food, maybe go to a museum."

I feel like I can hear him frown. "I wish they'd come before I left! I've not seen them in forever. Let them know I say hi?"

I nod even though he can't see me. "Yeah, of course. I'm sorry I didn't think to invite them up to see us before. My brain has kinda been mush lately."

"I know, it's okay. I'm excited to spend Thanksgiving with them again, though," he says. Last year we did Thanksgiving with my family and Christmas with his, since Thanksgiving isn't exactly a thing in Australia. We were talking about hosting his parents and Mali here in LA this year, but we hadn't finalized that yet.

"Yeah, that'll be good."

"Hey," Calum says, which makes me laugh. Why is he greeting me again in the middle of our conversation?

"Hey?" I reply, asking it as a question.

"We're one day closer to me coming home."

I smile at the prospect of having him back home and by my side. "Yeah, what is it? A couple of months ‘til you're in San Diego?" I think I'll still be getting treatment, and I'm not sure if I'll be able to cover my tracks with him being so close to home, but I try to focus on getting through things the way they are right now. He will be home for good in November. I can make it to November.

"Yep, two months. It's October 2nd. Oh! Maybe your whole family can come to the show! Would your moms let Eri come even if it's a school night?" His mention of bringing my brother to the show is cute. My little brother absolutely adores Calum. Actually, my entire family is obsessed with him, and I don't blame them.

"Maybe, I'll have to ask." I know for a fact that they would let Eri come to a show, regardless of date or time, but I'm leery to make any kind of promises at this point.

“Just let me know, I’ll put whoever on the list.”

“Yeah, for sure. How’s Japan? How’s everyone else? I wanna hear all about it.”

Cal then dives into the rundown of their arrival to Japan and going through customs, meeting fans at the airport and finally getting to the hotel. He said Matt is already tired of them, but, to be fair, Matt was tired of them after two days of rehearsals. Ash said that Kay’s grandma is back at home, so I won’t be running into her at the hospital. It hasn’t been a full day since they left but I feel like so much has happened. Hooked up to this IV, my cancer feels so much more real.

“I’m getting sleepy again, so I can let you go. Just wanted to hear your voice.” He yawns and I can only imagine how tired he looks. I'm tired too.

“Of course,” I say. “Sweet dreams. I love you.”

“I love you too. I’ll text you when I wake up again.”

We hang up — I’m not sure which one of us does it first or if we do it at the same time, but it seems like the silence comes instantly. The moment my phone goes quiet, I realize just how freezing I am. I remember the sweatshirt my moms made me bring and pull it out of. my tote bag that's on the floor, just as the two sympathetically smiling faces appear in front of me again.

They're carrying Starbucks cups from the food court, a third one in their hands that I presume is for me.

"We got you some mint tea — it's supposed to be great for nausea," Mama says, handing me the hot cup.

"Thank you," I say, wrapping my freezing fingers around the warmth of the tea.

"How's Calum? He's in Japan first, right?" Mom asks. She ignores the chair that's next to me that she could sit in, instead choosing to squat in front of me with her iced coffee in hand.

I nod and take a sip of my tea. I've always loved mint tea. Cal and I seemed to have a cup almost every night for the first few months of us living together. "Yeah, Japan. He's tired, but he'll be tired for a while."

Mom sets a hand on my knee. "So will you." She's right. I'm about to be drained and exhausted and sick and miserable. She smiles sadly at me.

Just like the drip in my IV, the next few hours go incredibly slowly. I'm so cold the entire time, the staff have to bring me a blanket, and I note mentally to bring one with me next week. My moms were prepared and both brought books to read, one of which they end up giving to me. Scrolling on my phone got old quickly, but I found some photos of Cal and the boys arriving in Japan and enjoyed that.

Once I'm done with my first full bag of the chemo drug, we get to leave. Walking out of the hospital and back into the sunshine is jarring, and I'm still cold, even though it's still very warm outside. My moms drive me back home, but once I'm back in the apartment, they have to leave to drive back to San Diego so they can have dinner with my brother. He'd been at a friend's house all day while they were here.

They offer to order me a pizza or something for dinner, but Emelia and I are planning on hanging out tonight. I know I won't feel well, but Em just wants to be there for me in case I need anything. She'll probably stay the night, too. It won't be as comforting as having Calum, but I will gladly take the company.

A few hours pass while I'm alone, and the nausea sets in quickly. I text Emi and ask her to bring food, even though the thought of eating makes me feel worse. I know I need to eat. I don't specify what she should bring, because nothing sounds good. She just says she'll be here in thirty minutes.

I text Calum in the meantime.

To: bass boy 💕 hi my love hope you're getting some beauty sleep i know i said don't bring me anything but actually can you bring me some kind of Japanese snacks pls i will love you forever and ever and ever i mean i'll do that anyway but i do want some snacks ignore me til you're awake was just thinking and thought of it and wanted to ask hehe oh and i know it's not til the v end but can you pretty pretty pretty please buy me chocolate special k in europe i will remind you dw

I think I've successfully pretended things are normal, and I do desperately miss the Special K in Europe.

A knock on the door is timed perfectly with the end of my texting spree, and I know it's Emelia, hopefully with food.

"It's open!" I yell out, not wanting to move from my comfy spot on the couch.

I hear the door opening and closing, followed by some echoed footsteps, and then Emelia is standing in the living room. She has on her work clothes — black leggings and t-shirt, nonslip shoes on her feet. She's not wearing the hat that they make her wear anymore, but her hair is still up in a messy ponytail.

"Hi, how ya feelin'?" She asks. She also holds up the bag of food she brought. It's the ramen from the place that's pretty close to here that I love.

"Pretty shitty, but I know it's only going to get worse."

Em frowns. "Well, have no fear. I brought ramen, and we can watch Girl Meets World all night."

My jaw drops. Everyone in my life knows how much I love Girl Meets World but judges me for liking a kids' show so much, so no one ever watches it with me. She really is such a good friend, willingly watching something that she knows will make me feel better.

"I love you," I tell her.

Then, she smiles, takes off her shoes, and puts the food on the coffee table, disappearing for a minute. When she comes back, she has glasses of water, napkins, and silverware. Emelia plops onto the couch next to me and takes the ramen out of the bag, setting it up for us.

"I got the curry and the mushroom," she explains. "I wasn't sure which you'd want today. I'm fine with whatever you don't want."

Both are normally delicious, but neither sounds appealing right now. The mushroom broth is lighter, so I go with that, thinking if nothing else, I can just sip the broth.

After a few hours of watching TV and pretending to eat my ramen, I suddenly feel Emelia's eyes on me. She's got a thoughtful look on her face, and I don't know what it is.

"What's wrong?"

She shakes her head. "Sorry, was just thinking. Do you know if you're going to lose your hair?"

I gulp. I'd looked into it. It depends largely on which form of chemo you're on, but also, it comes down to luck. "The drug I'm on is one that doesn't usually cause it, but there's still a chance I might."

Emelia nods, thinking. "Do you want to get a wig? Just in case."

I'd thought about it, but wigs that actually look nice are very expensive. Medical bills are already racking up, and my moms are going to help me, but it's a lot. "No, I think I'll just cross that bridge if I get to it."

"Do you want to cut your hair?"

It's relevant, but it catches me by surprise. I hadn't thought about that. I might lose my hair, but I've had long hair for so long. I've not cut it much shorter in so long. I'm also... dying. Why do I need to have long hair until I die? Why can't I change it up?

Isn't that what life is all about? Doing fun things?

I turn to her. "Let's do it."

I stand up and head straight for the kitchen, grabbing scissors from our junk drawer. I then go into the bathroom, switching on the lights. Emelia joins me soon after I start tying my hair into four sections, aligning the elastics at the same level, halfway between my chin and my shoulders.

Emelia doesn't say anything, she just smiles at me through the mirror and watches while I begin to saw off my hair. I don't know why I'm making such a sudden, big decision, but I've chopped a full ponytail off already, so there's no going back. Leave it to leukemia to stop me from overthinking every piece of my life.

Once I've cut off all the length, I take off the elastics holding everything together and have Emelia help me even everything out. It's not perfect, but if I'm about to lose it, it doesn't matter. If I don't lose it, I'll go see a hairdresser to fix it.

"OK, let me take a picture and then I need to go lay back down.

I take a mirror selfie, covering my face with my phone, just showing the lack of hair cascading over my green sweatshirt. I send it to Cal while I trudge back to the couch, flopping face-first onto the mountain of throw pillows and blankets.

"Want some Tums? Or Pepto?" Em asks.

"No," I groan. Why did cutting my hair suck all of the energy out of me?

"You okay?"

"No."

Em chuckles, and I feel the couch sink slightly as she sits next to me. "Can I get you anything?"

"A new body?"

She snorts. "Can't do that, sorry."

I let out a pained sigh, turning my head so it's not face down on the fuzzy blanket. "Thank you for being here."

"You have to stop thanking me. I know you'd be the first person holding my hand and bringing me food if it was me."

She's right. I'd probably let her move into our place so I could take care of her as much as she'd let me. I don't think she'd take me up on the offer to move in, but there'd undoubtedly be an offer. I'd do anything for her.

"I think I'm gonna sleep," I announce. My phone buzzes several times in my pocket. Hoping it's Calum, I pull it out.

From: bass boy 💕 UM EXCUSE ME MADAM YOU CANNOT JUST SPRING THIS ON ME IT LOOKS SO GOOD GOOD MF MORNING TO ME MY GIRLFRIEND IS A GODDESS can't wait to see it in person <3 and 1000% will get you snacks and special k anything for you

read next chapter

a/n: hi hi hi sorry sorry it's been a lil bit have been slowly working on this chapter :)

[mybigfatheartpoems]

heartbreak in 11 parts (unsent texts.)

1. I’d like to pretend that I’m fine, that I’m moving on and doing okay, but I’m not okay. I still cry about you. I think about you every day. Every song reminds me of you. I miss your arms around me and your hands and your mouth. I miss your eyes. I miss hearing you say you’re obsessed with me. It’s insane and sad and nonsensical. You’re a ghost in my head. I can’t get rid of you.

2. The truth is, I’d still give you my heart if you asked for it. If you told me tomorrow that you wanted me back, I’d run to you without question. I’d kiss you until we forgot we were ever apart. And somewhere in my mind, I’d think — this is a huge risk. I’d ask myself, are you sure? What if he hurts you again? What if you ruin each other? What if you’re still not enough for him? Do you really want to take that chance? And the answer would be yes. Obviously it wouldn’t be easy, it would take work and patience and conflict and compromise, but you’d be worth it. If there’s a chance it could work, I’d still want to try. You made my heart so happy in the short time we were together that any more time with you would be precious in and of itself, regardless of the outcome. Knowing you is a gift. Loving you would be effortless. And I want to, god I want to.

I understand your hesitation. I know your concerns and they’re valid and important. I know why you don’t think we have a chance. I just can’t help wondering, is this truly how it’s supposed to be if we both hate it so much? If it feels so wrong? Everything in me is telling me to fight for this, to convince you to live in the moment with me, but logically I know it would be pointless. Idk. Something about us is special. The way we fit, our common interests, our similarities, the timing, the chemistry, our locations — it felt like fate. I’ve been grieving this loss for weeks and I’m no closer to acceptance.

I’m grateful to have you in my life in whatever way I can, full stop. You’re amazing and I don’t want to lose you, and I’d be honored to be your friend. I’m just not sure I’ll find this kind of connection with someone else. Maybe someday, years from now, but I just want you. It’s pathetic and selfish and scary but it’s how I feel. I don’t want to feel this way, I wish I could turn it off, wish I could break this magnetic pull you have on me, but I can’t. Why is it so hard?

I know this is a lot and it’s unfair, I’m sorry. I don’t mean to overwhelm you just because I am overwhelmed with everything I’m still feeling. You owe me nothing. I just want you so badly and everything hurts.

3. One of the hardest parts of this is not inviting you over when I’m home with nothing to do. I’ve never craved someone like this.

4. You said it was me, that I was your type. I can still be your type. I still wanna be yours.

5. Maybe this is all just temporary infatuation. Maybe I’m being childish, thinking these feelings won’t one day disappear, like they all do. Maybe it’s naïve, imagining a future with you where there isn’t one. I have too much hope. I want more than I can have.

6. I’m trying to tell myself that everything happens for a reason, that maybe I’m better off without you, that I’ll feel better once more time passes, but it all sounds like bullshit. Not talking to you, trying not to think about you, it feels wrong. I hate this. I can’t stand it.

7. Sometimes it hurts so bad I don’t want to get out of bed. I do, because I have to, but it’s hard. There’s a pit in my stomach and I’m nauseous about it all day. Some days I’m fine, I’m distracted, I can forget for a while. But when I’m alone with my thoughts, it just hurts.

8. I’m realizing the space that you need doesn’t help me at all, but I know this isn’t just about me. I want you to be okay, and if we want any chance at developing a friendship, I know I’ve got to give you that space. I just didn’t expect it to be this hard.

9. Everything reminds me of you. But I know I can’t have you, so I’m going to try to move on. I’m going to try and eventually I will succeed. Part of me hopes you are filled with regret when I do. Part of me hopes we can remain friends when I do. Part of me hopes you come back to me some day. Part of me never wants to see you again.

10. I still think about you. I still miss you. The thought of us still makes me sad. But it doesn’t tear me apart the same way anymore. It’s just a dull ache. But it’s there and idk when it’ll go away.

11. It breaks my heart to let you go. But I’m letting you go.

[teememdee]

To be entirely honest, I feel like some people are waaay too negative/focused on the negatives of Kai'Sa's design and refuse to actually acknowledge her character. It goes the other way too with people using her as waifu bait, but some people are just... a bit over the top.

Like, I get it, really. I also wish she maybe had some scars, or maybe her helmet had sharp teeth or whatever, but what we have is at its worst, kind of underwhelming.

Love your work by the way, I hope Kai'Sa's in Project L, it'd be fun.

Oh one billion percent. It’s a very easy and obvious criticism to make so I get it. When the beginning foundations of a character is failed by their design (girl seen as a monster doesn’t look like one), it makes for very glaring cracks in what is a good story so people don’t think the story is worth their time (but it is).

But even regardless of how we think the second skin suit looks, when you take the time to actually study the high-res models like the one in The Call, the suit is actually like, kinda gross. There’s zero reason for the cleavage of course, but it’s also, you know, a second skin. The non-armored parts are fleshy, and I like to imagine it pulses a little as it hungers. Even if her face is normal I can imagine that to someone living in a region with creatures of the exact same texture and material, she’d be a little scary / grotesque to look at.

Additionally, her face may be mostly normal and her body still a normal shape, but the fact is that she still can’t take it off. She doesn’t look like a normal human anymore, she can’t. She may end up accepted by a few who see her and who she lets see her like Taliyah, but unlike her face, the armor isn’t something she can hide.

I want to believe they’re also kind of remedying this a little? The Bel’Veth cinematic and accompanying short story Pinwheel are like, my favorite things ever, especially the moment where Kai’Sa’s mask is pulled back to reveal her humanity, whereas Bel’Veth’s “mask” is pulled back to reveal her true monstrous form. To me this is showing that Kai’Sa is too Void for humans, but too human for the Void. “You are alive because I allow you to live,” Bel’Veth says, and she could very easily not allow it if she stops believing that Kai’Sa is useful to her.

I also have a lot of thoughts that a lot of what Kai’Sa believes people see her as is actually how she sees herself but I’ll save that for another day.

At its core, Kai’Sa’s story is the story of a girl who was torn from her loving world and family and she can no longer return to it. Her parents’ daughter has been exchanged for the Daughter of the Void. She wants to retain her humanity but struggles as people reject her and her monstrous traits and abilities are what allow her to survive. She struggles with her memories, they are the only company she has at times and desperately clings to the memory of the girl she used to be, but as a matter of survival she frequently pushes them down and chooses not to remember.

“As a child of the sands, to forget the sun makes me want to cry.” It hurts my heart.

Also my hottest take is that if / when she finds Kassadin again, the problem won’t so much be that Kassadin won’t recognize her because of the second skin (and resulting criticism that she doesn’t look that different) but Kassadin is so consumed by his grief that he simply cannot believe that his daughter could be alive. Bel’Veth says he no longer has his full mind. My ideal reunion has Kai’Sa pleading with him to remember, pouring out the memories she’s kept and has refused to forgotten, but Kassadin does not hear them and denies any possibility that any part of his family still exists. Yes Kai’Sa is my favorite character ever. Yes I want her to suffer immensely.

tl;dr — she should look more fucked up yes, but she would still look nasty irl and the more recent narratives are playing into the contradiction a bit more.

And thank you so much for enjoying my work!!! I’m also really hoping to see Kai’Sa in Project L not only because her model and animations will be awesome but also so I can have her on a team with Ahri and make them kiss

[wispy-ispy]

Opening up. TWs in the tags

Nothing infuriates me more than the phrase:

“You should know this, it’s common sense”

It’s common sense if you are taught it in the first place. I was neglected. I may have had food and I may have had clothes but I didn’t clean my room. I didn’t shower. I didn’t brush my teeth. Nobody noticed, and if they did they didn’t do anything to change it. I still struggle to bathe and wash myself regularly, and I never learned how to keep my space neat and tidy. I live on my own now- I’m expected to do these things without reminding, the same way it’s always been.

So what does this mean when someone does remind me? Remind me to do my laundry, or to wash my dishes, to eat something? When someone, tired of waiting for me to take action, berates me for not doing what’s expected. I didn’t have these guidelines growing up. No one payed enough attention to see what was happening, least of all the people I lived with. I was an afterthought. I was a mouth to feed and a pair of too-small shoes in the hallway closet. I wasn’t worth the effort to take care of, to raise, to love. They never chose me.

Now I live with the consequences, from circumstances I couldn’t control, and I’m the one expected to carry the burden and responsibility. I never got an apology. Not from my dad, and definitely not from her. Not from my mother, my aunts and uncle, my grandparents, all the people in my life who watched me grow in these circumstances and didn’t even acknowledge it happened once we got out. The only lingering effect on their minds is the divorce papers that remain unsigned, as the man who filed them remains engaged to the same kind of woman who ruined my life all those years ago.

So no, I don’t have much common sense. Maybe I never will. But I’m kind. I’m patient. I’m so much more than they ever bothered to see, and I deserved better than what they gave me. The cards I was dealt do not decide who I become, only I can. I choose to be around people who love me unconditionally, and want to see me succeed in life. People who know how much I struggle with basic tasks and still choose to be around me. Because they’re the people that matter. They are my family. I am who I am today not because of some deep rooted trauma and a shit childhood, but because I chose to keep going despite it all. After many, many failed suicide attempts, and years of self-hatred, I’ve accepted who I am, and I can finally say I’m proud of who I’ve become. I did that. No one else.

I choose to be kind. Because life’s too short not to let the people you love know just how happy they make you. Someone very important to me helped me realize that (<3) and for that I am forever grateful.

It takes a lot of guts to let yourself be hard work, but there will always be someone up to the task. You just gotta let them in.

[nataliiiii]

What if Luffy wasn’t the only child ?

Then will the world change?

Chapter 1: The beginning

Wealth, fame, power. Gold Roger, the King of the Pirates, attained everything this world has to offer. And so, many men head for the Grand Line to find the great treasure he left behind, the One Piece. The world has truly entered a Great Pirate Era! Wearing the straw hat sworn upon him by the great pirate, Shanks Monkey D. Luffy heads out to the sea on a journey on the road to become King of the Pirates!

2 brothers set their own goals and become pirates, leaving behind their sister. Monkey D. Y/N. She is Luffy biological sister but she is nothing like Luffy. She was the Miss Know Everything.

After her brother left, she set out to become a pirate at the age of 16. But then something happened. She accidentally ate a devil fruit. The fruit is called Chi Chi no Mi. Its gave her the power to manipulate blood. A very powerful fruit. But she stayed calm and continued her journey. After a few days floating on the water she then docked at an island. There she found her first two mates. Kai and Koi. There are twins but they’re nothing like each other

Koi has the power to create illusion. His devil fruit is Sakkaku Sakkaku no Mi. He can create illusion anytime and anywhere as his own. His appearance is the best thing about him. Besides being an introvert, he is quite handsome. He has long black hair, brown eyes, tan skin, 7ft tall and he is a gentleman. He always wears a black suit and has earrings. He is 19 years old and he likes sake.

The opposite of Koi is Kai. This man is crazy. He doesn’t have a devil fruit. But his weapons are his devil. His favorite weapon is gun. He has short black hair, brown eyes, tan skin and also 7ft tall. He is very chaos but can be adorable sometimes. He is 20 years old and he likes cake.

On the island

"THE HELL MAN? HOW CAN YOU SELL THIS FOR 1000 BELLIES??"

Y/n is now buying a necklace but the salesma set the price too high for her to afford it.

"I don’t know little girl. That is how much it’s worth. Now if you want to buy it you can stay or you go away and let me do my business."

"I will buy it"

A tall man said while playing with his gun.

"Excuse me?"

Y/n said in surprise.

"I said I will buy it"

The man repeated.

"For you…"

Another man said but this man look exactly like the other one.

"Am I feeling dizzy or there are two of you standing here?"

Y/n confused.

"This is my brother, Koi. And i’m Kai. Nice to meet?"

"Y/n. Monkey D. Y/n"

"Nice to meet you little monkey. How about I buy you that necklace and you joined me and my brother to create a crew? I see something that is very powerful inside of you."

Y/n was stunned. She questioned her self is it because of her devil fruit is very powerful or it is herself.

"How about we have a match? The winner is gonna be the captain."

Y/n said in excitement.

"That is a great idea!"

Kai happily said.

But Kai doesn’t know who he is challenging. As the three got to somewhere empty they started to fighting each other. But Y/n just need to say a sentence.

"Chi Chi no Spike"

Kai and Koi immediately coughed out blood.Y/n doesn’t want to keep the match for long so she said

"Now if you come with me, you will live or you know what will come."

The men know that they can’t win Y/n so they accepted it. And after that they started to collect their crew members. They got themselves a cook named Karei, a musician named Tomi, a navigator named Mirui, a shipwreck named Elton, archaeologist named Iris and a doctor named Bonbon. They began their journey together to become one of the most powerful pirate crew on the world with their ship. Mary Gold.

To be continued

[uidbmgmt]

Trigger Warning: PTSD, DID, CSA, RA

I’m back, bitches! House sitting in Ohio was just wonderful. My roomie’s family is super nice, open and accepting. Their pets, Connor and Sophie, were such a treat to watch. No issues whatsoever. We were pretty much alone for two weeks, just my roomie, her girlfriend, and I, and we enjoyed the open house instead of a shitty mobile home for once. We were able to sample some of the local food and were able to travel to places we wanted to go.

Sadly some of the places we went to didn’t work out, but that’s okay. Stuff happens and I’m not gonna let it get in my way.

I’m happy to be back now. I got home from the airport at about 11:30 AM, started unpacking my stuff and got thrown smack dab into a full on PTSD flashback. It was terrible, a memory I had forgotten about, or had blocked from me. So I was definitely told by my [redacted] that I was going to hell if I ever told anyone, but since I’m not a good listener, I didn’t listen and I told my parents. They both yelled at the [redacted] while I was in another room, but I could hear their raised voices.

The feeling in my body was powerful. I was fuzzy all over and my head felt like it was going so fast it would just explode. I remember feeling very small in a big, open space, probably the smallest I have ever felt. Being relatively new to the system, I had not felt anything that intense before, it was scary. I feel so sorry for my child alter, because they’ve been sitting on this shit for YEARS. I wish I knew how to help them through this, except to offer hugs and reassurance that it wasn’t their fault and they’re not going to hell.

It took hours to come down from this and it did not go away. I feel so sorry for people who have these intense flashbacks on a constant, because they are gnarly and terrible. I wouldn’t wish this on my worst enemy. I felt so helpless and pathetic under all that burden. My dear, child alter, you are not broken or worthless. You are worth so much love and compassion. You deserve happiness. I will not forget your pain.

I also made a realization! My child alter, Laura Lorraine, and my teenage alter, May Vashal, both feel like boys inside their hearts. They wish they had been able to live life they way they felt inside. I know I can’t redo the past, but I can make the future more comfortable for you. Got a double mastectomy and a hysterectomy in my future. I look forward to it, along with most of the system. I gotta start listening to my heart more instead of just my head.

On a brighter note, I was able to open the many packages I had waiting for me. Half of them were for my friend’s cosplay but I got some goodies. A tote bag, a Moon Knight keychain, wings for my cosplay, and a build a bear we’ll be making for my Bitch Buddy’s bachelorette party this weekend. I have so much going for me right now, it feels almost shameful that I don’t feel the enthusiasm I wish I did. I guess the PTSD flashbacks took a lot out of the system, but important things were learned and I won’t soon forget it.

I hope you all weren’t too bored without me, not like I post much, and I’m happy to be back home amongst my stuff and my friends. Shop is back open now, however commissions will remain closed for a short bit. I’m working on a lot of stuff before Everfree next month and I wanna make sure I finish all that before I even consider opening commissions again. I’ll probably open them back up around Everfree.

Thanks for listening to my story. It helps me to put it out there, maybe I can learn from someone else’s experience, or someone will learn something from me?

[humansun]

HAPPY JUUUUULY!

Written July 1st, 2023 at 6:40AM

The world allows me to live another day. Fate and destiny have determined that yesterday was not my last day to existing. I am hoping to live a very rich life until I am very old.

Ripe. A word that helps me process the difficulties and adversity that comes with my creative journey. Learning how to affirm that my creative ideas have worth and value has been rewarding in a small, but mighty kind of way.

This morning, I got to wake up on a Saturday to claim my morning and take the time to meditate. I took my morning back from whatever messages, calls, people that I usually want to serve and poured it into me and what my needs were. My needs were to declutter my rom, meditate and find my morning peace, and take the time to write in this document to exercise my writing and also reflect on the past day or two.

Something I find majestic and special is seeing animals in the wild that I do not often see. It does not happen often, but seeing deer or stray cats are always a day brightener. It’s a reminder that we live in a beautiful, diverse world of all kinds of beings. The animal I wish to see one day is an owl, but it’s understandable if we don’t have overlapping schedules.

To reflect on the past week, there has been an intense push. I’ve been pressing the gas when it comes to being Associate Producer on New Wave and it’s been a good type of rough! Not like working at a huge company draining, but giving myself the space and time to recuperate before drafting 10 more emails.

In terms of what’s been happening politically, there was that one submarine that imploded a couple weeks ago, but affirmative action has also been shot down by the Supreme Court. I don’t know all the details, but I know that affirmative action was what made the difference between significant percentages in minority communities being accepted into higher education.

It’s a painful thing to witness, our government working backwards, even if it all does make sense in the grand scheme of American history. However, I am positive it won’t be like this forever, and we’ll keep working towards a different world. Just because our youth every year becomes more progressive and one day, that youth will become the old people voting, which will continue to be more open each year.

The things that have been at the top of my mind include my storyline that I’m building to shoot but also the short treatment I need to add in my applications. I’ve been reflecting on where I’m at financially and how taking a long, well-deserved break from working full-time has been providing me fruit for thought. I also think financially I’m in a decent place. It’s not the worst, but it’s not the best. 

I’m learning that doing my best in every avenue for life should always be applauded - at least by myself. It gives me to the affirmation and recognition that I am only one human being, that I have flaws, and that the only thing that I could really do is my best. Especially when it comes to handling mom’s health documents and preparation for the future surgeries.

Yesterday, I got to experience pole dancing for the first time. I learned that I love trying out new things, even if they’re scary. The thought of jumping into the ocean at the crack of dawn during winter quarter of senior year sounded intimidating, but going head first into something even if it brings a certain level of anxiety is what pays off for me. Because I always learn that it’s not that bad after doing it. That I actually would go back and do it all over again. And that’s awesome.

There is some level of homeostasis that has come after a few months of subconsciously ruminating on my time in Vietnam. I have found a level of peace and happiness in the ant-infested house that I live in, with the people around me. There is no day or week or month that is perfect, but there is beauty in every realm of my life. 

I am immensely grateful for all the resources I have been blessed, the people in my life who teach me and cherish me, and for all the experiences I have had and have yet to have as I continue down this courageous road to creative discovery and liberation. I am indeed excited for what is to come, even if it doesn’t make the most sense to me. Doing scary things is good! I need to keep doing scary things!

[trvbblemaker]

Be My Safe Place - A Short Story

WARNINGS: Abuse, anxiety, depression, homophobia, references to suicide, PTSD

This is one of the heaviest things I've ever written, but I'm enjoying it so far! Hope you like it too :)

Part 1

A knife is thrown at my head again and again. There are people all around me that could do something about it, but they don’t. They don’t care at all. 

The faceless people couldn’t care less about what goes on in their home. And that’s fair, considering the same thing happens there every night:

I walk into the wide, empty room. The faceless people are there. They’re always there, always ignoring me. 

I get a glass of water from an unattended bar. I’m thirsty. Always thirsty. 

I walk over to the only empty table. There are only 5 tables, and probably a hundred people in here. 

I sit down.

There is an indecipherable shout. I stand up, and then he arrives. 

My father walks into the room. He starts throwing kitchen knives at me. And I do nothing. I don’t scream or flinch. I’m used to this, and I know he can’t actually hurt me. 

Not anymore. And not when I wake up.

These nightmares have been happening for four months now. Almost every night, I am back in that room being attacked by my father. 

I shouldn’t act like I don’t know what the room is: it’s my high school cafeteria, but emptier. It is where I’ve had some of my worst memories, and it is where I still have to go every day.

I pretend to not care. I pretend to not shake every time I walk in. 

I pretend to be okay, but I am not. If I was okay, he wouldn’t try to hurt me every night. If I was okay, my mom wouldn’t have to hide the kitchen knives because they terrify me. If I was okay, we wouldn’t be spending thousands of dollars on anxiety medication and therapy.

Whenever I wake up from these nightmares, I don’t hyperventilate or scream to get my mom’s attention. I just sit there, staring into the darkness. Sometimes I turn on the light for a second, just to know that I am still in the safe place. 

Sometimes, I do wonder if it’s worth it to keep living like this—costing my mother lots of money for things that aren’t helping, anxiety about every little unnecessary thing, feeling like I will never be okay again. Sometimes, I wonder if I should just cease to exist. 

But then I think of my mother. She can’t lose another person she loves. So I’ll keep holding on, no matter how hard it is.

Maybe that’s another reason Mom hid the kitchen knives: she knows I’m barely holding on.

〰〰〰

The only good part of school these days is her. 

She sits in the back of every class, except for math, where our teacher placed her in the front because she’s a well-behaved genius and Ms. Anderson likes having her best students in front. 

aShe is quiet. She has friends, of course—I’ve seen her with them shopping or at the park. But at school, she floats around alone. Alone, but content. She is at peace in the quiet, unlike me.

She is kind. Someone asks her for help, she helps, no questions asked. The biggest bully in school could ask her to tutor them, and she’d agree with a soft smile. 

And she is beautiful. She has the kind of quiet beauty that you can’t truly appreciate unless you make a point to notice her. And I do. I notice her every day. 

Autumn Kurtis makes school worth it.

But it’s hard to be so interested in her when every time I feel butterflies in my stomach, I am reminded of why my father hated me.

Having a gay daughter was the final straw for him. After I came out to my parents, it was never the same in our house. Mom accepted me immediately, but my father stood up and walked out. Later, I heard him shouting at my mom. I’ll never forget what he said: “If I’d known you’d make a lesbian, I would never have—” 

I didn’t need to hear the rest of it. At that point, I shut my hands over my ears and locked myself in my closet, the only place I couldn’t hear them fight.

I immediately wished I hadn’t told them. My dad said he regretted both me and my mom in one sentence.

The next morning, I walked downstairs to get a glass of water, and he cornered me in the kitchen.

“Listen here, Quinn,” he said, grabbing my arm tightly. He’d never sounded so terrifying. “If you can’t figure out how to make yourself normal, we’re going to have a problem. You hear me?”

I was too scared to speak. I nodded. “Good. I will not have a lesbian as a daughter.”

He let go of me roughly. I ran up to my room, still clutching my water. I sat down on my bed and rolled up my hoodie sleeves. I had red marks on my arm from where he’d grabbed me. I stood up, but my knees buckled, and I slid down against the side of my bed. 

I wanted to scream, but I was terrified to make any noise at all. I put my hand over my mouth and sobbed. 

I was a mistake. He hated me. He would hate me forever unless I changed.

But I knew I couldn’t change. I would always be like this. So I would never be safe.

And he knew that. He always knew I still wasn’t “normal”.