#a very big hurt that’s taken YEARS for me to unpack as i simultaneously worked to discover

[pennyserenade]

my friends and i have been having more serious conversations about going to mexico lately and it has me feeling emotional because years ago when i started working to mend my relationship with the way i felt about being mexican, this was where i wanted to end up.

[dakotacrisis]

Cherry Blossoms

Coping with my mental health dip by writing something gay for my comfort pairing.

Marigami Hanahaki Disease AU because it is June and I just need some slightly angsty hurt/comfort goodness rn.

Read on AO3

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Spring was such a beautiful time of year. Probably Kagami’s favorite. All the snow melted and the cold went away and the world slowly started to come back to life. She loved spring in Japan. The whole town would be covered in beautiful pink cherry blossoms. Such a soft and comforting color. There was a reason it was used so much in shows when a character fell in love or started catching feelings for someone.

Kagami had gone most of her life without meeting anyway who made her world pink like in the shows. She was focused on her fencing and her school work. Love just wasn’t in the cards for her it seemed. Maybe when she attended university that would change but so far she was sixteen years old and still had yet to feel even a twinge of that warmth and flutter that seeing the cherry petals back home did.

That was until she moved to France with her mother. She met a boy who was nice and sweet and for the first time she thought that maybe love wasn’t pink and fluttery. Maybe love was golden and flowing, like a beam of sunlight touching the earth. That’s what being around this boy felt like. Adrien Agreste was his name. A nice boy with a nice face and a nice personality. He had friends that she got to meet that came with their own vivid colors. Soothing blue, fiery orange, mysterious indigo, calculating green, and bold red. They were all swell and Kagami liked spending time with them.

Kagami tried to make herself like Adrien more than she did. She wanted to like him so badly. She wanted to feel something more when she was with him. She really did. But that all went out the door one afternoon.

She was sitting with her new friends at a spot on a bridge, eating ice cream and people watching when someone’s phone beeped.

“That’s me,” Alya handed her ice cream to Kagami, “Can you hold that for a second? Thanks.” Kagami took the ice cream without question and watched as Alya’s face split into the biggest grin Kagami had ever seen. “No way! No way! No way!”

“What’s going on?” Nino, Alya’s boyfriend, asked.

“Guess who got home early from her visit to Shanghai?” Alya announced to the group.

The group immediately perked up and began talking excitedly. Now this was new. Who could they possibly be talking about? Kagami had heard nothing about anyone being in Shanghai.

“Is she coming out?” Adrien asked, “It feels like she’s been gone forever.”

“I just texted her our location, she’ll be here in a few minutes!” Alya bounced happily in her seat. “I cannot wait to see her again! It has been way too long!”

“Who are we talking about?” Kagami asked.

“Our friend, Marinette,” Adrien explained, “She spent the last couple months interning at her cousin’s fashion company in Shanghai.”

“We were expecting her home some time next month but apparently she was really missing home and all of us so she decided to come back early. This is so great that you finally get to meet her!” Alya said.

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you mention a Marinette before. How come?” Kagami was a very good listener and she would have remembered someone bringing up a long-distance friend.

“Cause once we start talking about her we start missing her and then next thing you know we’re all over at her parent’s bakery eating our sorrows away.” Rose sighed, “She is probably the sweetest person ever so her absence these past couple of months have just been torture. Like a huge part of our lives has been missing.”

Wow. This Marinette was certainly getting built up to be larger than life. Kagami could only imagine what she was like in person. She stewed in her thoughts, listening to everyone’s chatter as she tried to picture what this Marinette girl would look like.

“There she is!” Alya bolted from her seat and ran down street to tackle a girl in a hug. Soon the others had followed suit and clamped onto the girl, effectively blocking her from Kagami’s view. They moved in a massive huddle back towards the benches they were occupying with all the excited squeeing and a bombardment of questions.

“We missed you so much!” she heard Mylene say, “And we have someone new to introduce you to. This is Kagami, a friend we made while you were in Shanghai.”

The crowd parted and Kagami’s world exploded into pink. Every shade of the rosy hue danced before her eyes as she gazed upon a petite Asian looking girl with shoulder length black hair, bright blue eyes, and wearing a simple pink sundress printed with butterflies. Her stomach started to flutter as if the butterflies on the girl’s dress had flown down her throat directly.

“Hello,” Marinette’s voice was like a sweet song that enraptured Kagami’s remaining senses, “It’s nice to meet you, Kagami. My name is Marinette.”

“You too,” Kagami muttered, unable to clear the tickle in her throat, “Nice to meet you too.”

Marinette nodded and was swept back into the conversation with her friends as they asked her what her stay in Shanghai was like. Kagami sat frozen on the bench as the swaths of pink cleared from her gaze. What had that been? In one instant she had been rendered completely dumbstruck by a girl she had just met. Was it because she was cute? Because she was. Marinette was a very pretty girl. Kagami understood what the others meant about a void in their lives with her absence. The girl positively radiated warmth and kindness out of her every pore. The days must seem dreary indeed without her around if this was Kagami’s initial reaction to meeting her.

The evening continued on as everyone caught up with Marinette. Kagami sat off to the sidelines not wanting to intrude on their time. It had been several months since they had seen her after all. Kagami wished that she had something to say to Marinette. But what was there? She didn’t know this girl from Eve. All she knew was that she simultaneously wanted to never be parted from her yet far away from her at the same time. She craved her attention but almost felt unworthy to be near her at the same time. It was a feeling Kagami was not used to.

Soon it was time for everyone to head home. Adrien offered Kagami a ride back to her house and they got into the car together. “So, what did you think of Marinette? You didn’t really talk to her much I noticed.”

“She’s…” Wonderful. Beautiful. Effervescent. An brilliant white swan among honking muddy geese. “She’s nice. I didn’t want to intrude while you all were catching up with her though.”

“I think you two would get along great. Next time we go out you should talk to her. We can even stop by her parent’s bakery tomorrow. I don’t think we’ve ever taken you before.”

“Bakery?”

“Yeah, the Dupain-Cheng Bakery near my school. It’s a great place to get pastries but it is too tempting to be good for your waist line if you know what I mean. Also, with Marinette gone it just bummed everyone out going in and knowing she wasn’t there. That’ll probably change now that she’s home though.”

They pulled up to Kagami’s house. She got out and wandered inside in a daze. She mindlessly kicked off her shoes at the door and went to her room to think over the evening. When she laid down for bed flashes of pink returned, surrounding a brilliant white smile and soft bluebell eyes.

The next day proved no better for her sudden predicament when Adrien dragged Kagami to the Dupain-Cheng Bakery for the first time. The entire bakery felt like an extension of Marinette. Sweetness and cheer filling every corner and when Marinette popped up behind the register in a cute apron and a handkerchief holding her hair back out of her face Kagami saw that same flurry of pink she had the day before.

“They got you working already?” Adrien joked with her. “You would think they’d give you a day off since you just got home.”

“You really think that? This is one of our busiest times of the year.” Marinette rolled her eyes, “I’d be more concerned if they didn’t drag me down here to help. Speaking of which, what can I get for you two today?”

“What do you recommend?”

“Well, with it being spring time we do have these new cherry love letters.” she pulled a tray of pastries out from the case. It was dough that had been folded to look like a letter with cherry filling stuffed inside and sealed with a little icing heart. “They’ve been going fast so if you want some you’d better grab one now.”

“Sounds delicious, we’ll take two.” Adrien said, clapping his hands together, “Kagami loves cherry desserts, isn’t that right?”

“Yeah…” Kagami mumbled. That tickle in her throat was back.

“A girl after my own heart, personally I like strawberries better but cherries are a very close second.” Marinette packed two of the love letters into a small pink box and handed it to Adrien. “You two have fun and come back again soon.”

“When does your shift end? Maybe we could hang out after.” Adrien suggested.

“I can’t really, I still have a ton of unpacking to do once I’m done helping out down here.”

“We can help you unpack.” the words flew out of Kagami’s mouth. “I mean...it would go faster with some help, wouldn’t it?”

“That’s very sweet of you, Kagami. If you two don’t mind it would be a big help and still give us the chance to hang out. I’m really interested in getting to know you a little more.” Marinette flashed her a smile that made Kagami’s knees weak.

This was ridiculous! How could one girl she barely knew have such a strong hold over her already? It was mind boggling. She practically had her own gravitational pull.

Adrien and Kagami left the bakery to walk around and eat their pastries while they waited for Marinette’s shift to end. Adrien commented on how it was so nice of Kagami to volunteer to help Marinette despite not really knowing her. Yep...just good old Kagami saying stuff before she thinks because she doesn’t know how to handle herself in front of the pretty girl that bathes her world in endless waves of sugar and pink. The cherry love letter in her hand almost seemed to mock her. Why couldn’t they have been regular turnovers? Why did they have to be called love letters of all things?

After a few hours Adrien got a text from Marinette that she was done and the two turned around to head back towards the bakery. Kagami seriously considered pretending to have a sudden appointment or practice to get out of going back which was not like her. She was Kagami Tsurugi for goodness sake! She didn’t run from a challenge! She faced all her problems head on and she did not hesitate for anything. Yet this freaking girl made her want to run and hide like a coward.

They made it back and Adrien lead them through a back door up a flight of stairs to the apartment above the bakery. Marinette greeted them just as cheerfully as she did when they walked into the bakery earlier. Kagami took a deep breath and braced herself as she entered her home. It was a fairly normal little house. Nothing too out of the ordinary. They walked up another set of stairs and through a trapdoor into what was Marinette’s room.

Kagami almost fainted. It wasn’t just that Marinette herself made everything around her look pink and sweet but that was what her entire room looked like. Everything was pink from the walls to the furniture to the wastepaper basket. At least when she was around Marinette the pink faded away into background noise after a while. Here it felt like Kagami was trapped with these weird feeling she had been experiencing since she first met the girl.

“I really appreciate you guys coming over to help, everything is a bit of a mess right now.” She sighed at the clothes tossed over the chaise and spilling out of her luggage. “Oh! Before I forget! Adrien, I got you a little souvenir while I was in Shanghai.” Marinette rifled through her luggage and pulled out a little black kitty plush with a green collar and bell. “Isn’t this just the cutest thing ever? There was a little corner shop near my cousin’s office building that sold hand made plushies and I just had to pick some up.”

“He’s adorable!” Adrien took the kitten with glee, “Thank you!”

“I figured you’d appreciate it since your dad won’t let you have an actual cat. I debated getting you a hamster one but there was only one and I’m sorry to say but I was selfish and wanted to keep her for my self.” She pulled out another plush of a tan and white hamster wearing a little red raincoat and hat. “Isn’t she just the cutest thing you’ve ever seen in your life?”

“I swear I’m gonna cry,” Adrien was not joking, he looked like he was close to real tears, “She’s so cute! Look at her little raincoat!”

“I know!” Marinette turned to Kagami, “I wish I had know that you were around, Kagami, or else I would have brought you a souvenir too.”

“Oh no, that’s fine,” Kagami waved it off, “You couldn’t have known so it really doesn’t matter.”

“Wait, I have just the thing,” Marinette started throwing her clothes around as she dug through more of her luggage and making more of a mess. “Here we are! You can have this!”

“Really, you don’t need to--”

“I insist,” Marinette held up a pink butterfly barrette and clipped it into Kagami’s hair, “I got a lot of free stuff just like it while interning for my cousin. And now we match!” she clipped a similar butterfly barrette into her own hair.

Kagami mumbled her thanks and spent the rest of the afternoon in silence whilst Adrien and Marinette did most of the talking. The three of them went about unpacking and putting stuff away where Marinette told them to. Every now and again they would try to pull Kagami into their conversation but she was finding it increasingly harder to find her tongue in this scenario. At one point Adrien excused himself to use the bathroom leaving the two girls alone.

“You don’t talk much, do you?” Marinette said after Adrien had left. Kagami looked across at her in surprise. Marinette spoke so calmly with a serene and understanding smile, “I get it. My friend Nathaneal was never much of a talker either. I still got to know a lot about him though through other means. Kinda like I’m doing with you. It’s sorta like a fun little game, deciphering someone’s personality from what they do rather than what they say.”

Kagami wasn’t sure what to say so she simply nodded and let Marinette keep talking.

“Like I can tell from the way you fold stuff that you are very neat and organized. You are dressed sharply like you want to impress people but the clothes are well loved so you find them comfortable and wear them more for yourself than you do anyone else. Your hair is short and neatly trimmed meaning you probably get it cut often so it stays salon fresh but also because you can’t stand it when it touches your shoulders. You don’t like distractions or having to worry about maintaining it during long days.” Marinette listed everything off as if it was common knowledge. Kagami could only stare both impressed and a little intimidated by her spot on assessment. She got all of that just from watching her for a couple hours?

“You also hum while you work and you smiled at the silly little souvenirs I brought back.” Marinette continued, “There’s not a whole lot I can gather from that I just thought it was cute.”

“You are a very perceptive person, aren’t you?” Kagami found something to say at long last.

“I like to think so. People express who they are through every little thing that they do and I find that kind of fascinating. When you take the time to watch someone you see all these little things that build up into the person as a whole. Eventually when you look at them you don’t see their face you just see them. Like their entire personality is written into the laugh lines and freckles on their face.”

“I get what you mean.” Kagami said, easing into the conversation the more she spoke, “It’s like how I felt when I met Adrien. When we met he was just the cute blonde boy with big green eyes but as time went on he transformed into this smart yet incredibly naive, pun-spewing dork.”

“That is an accurate summation of his character. Never have I met a boy that gets such immaculate grades but will walk face first into a pole he saw coming.” the girls laughed. When Adrien came back up he asked what was so funny which just made them chuckle more. They waved him off saying it was just a little girl talk and to not worry about it. Kagami loosened up a bit more, she still didn’t talk much but she didn’t feel like fleeing in a rush of nerves either.

When everything was done Adrien and Kagami left. Marinette had given Kagami her number before they had gone and told her to text her soon. Even her little sticky notes were cute. They were shaped like cherry blossoms.

“What did I tell you?” Adrien nudged her as they left, “You and Marinette got along just fine. Then again, it’s hard not to want to be her friend, isn’t it?”

Kagami glanced back at the house. Little fairy lights twinkling in the evening along Marinette’s balcony. She cleared her throat of the tickling feeling that had lodged there. “It surely is,”

---

(Next)

[chloevara]

Homebound // Varapark // Duo

Written in collaboration by @chloevara and @icarialex

Who: Chloe Vara and Noelle Park

When: Saturday, February 27

Where: Chloe’s dad’s house (also lived 7 other people also live there) in Hounslow, London

What: Open house party for for friends and family the night before Chloe and Noelle are scheduled to fly back to Greece

Chloe stole a moment away from her family’s open house to sit on the toilet with the lid closed. She probably had somewhere between five and ten minutes before someone checked in to make sure she had not fallen in or something. It was not like she did not want to go back and enjoy the party- on the contrary, she enjoyed this more than just about anything else in the world. It had been nearly five years since she had seen these people, and it simultaneously felt like no time had passed at all, and that she had missed out on everything of importance.

She skimmed through the pictures that she had saved on her phone, stopping on one taken yesterday. Chloe’s cousin Nadine had met up Noelle and Chloe while they were dropping off Vi at school. Nadine had stolen Chloe’s phone, and taken a selfie. Noelle appeared to be watching Chloe with adoration while Chloe hugged Vi good-bye. Meanwhile, Nadine took up the bottom left quadrant of the photo with a peace sign. It was such a perfect picture, and Chloe wished that every day could be so perfect.

Zooming in on Noelle’s face, Chloe smiled softly. It had been a whirlwind two weeks, but it had been so, so worth it. She felt more alive than she had in months. And that was why it was agonizing for Chloe to admit what she wanted- no, needed to tell the most wonderful girlfriend that she ever had.

Opening up the web browser on her phone, Chloe scanned through the website that she had come back to about thirty times in secret over the past week. Looking over the site filled her with trepidation and relief. A weird combination, but that was what it was.

Someone knocked on the door to the WC, and Chloe rushed to get it. It was her dad’s fiancé Simon. Although she still did not know the guy well, she really liked him so far. It was weird that she did not know him better, but it was obvious that Simon made her dad more comfortable in a relationship than Chloe had ever seen him. “Sorry to keep you waiting. It’s all yours. I lost track of time,” she said, rubbing at her neck. Simon nodded, smiled, and mumbled his thanks. 

Chloe moved down the hallway, and nearly crashed into Noelle. Without warning her, Chloe wrapped her arms around her girlfriend, burying her face in Noelle’s neck. “I have to- I’m sorry, I love you so much, but- I can’t-” This probably sounded like a break-up, but it wasn’t. She wanted to stay in this relationship more than anything. “I’m going to delay my trip back to Icaria by two weeks. Please don’t hate me. I- I’ve been looking at flights, and- I promise to come back to you, but I have to do this.”

Ten days ago, Noelle would have panicked at being left alone with so many people she didn’t know well, but to say the wild bunch had grown on her would be an understatement. They were all quirky, but oh so welcoming. Immediately the veterinarian was taken in as family, and even though she couldn’t put it into words, that fact made her more emotional than expected. It had been so long since she’d been in any type of family environment, and she’d bottled up any emotions about that fact very deep. She’d convinced herself that she didn’t miss it or desire one anymore. It also helped that her family environment wasn’t one she would miss. 

Then, Chloe’s family smacked her square in the face. A family like theirs was one that she thought only lived in a sitcom. Yet, there it was bustling around her, and she would miss them when she returned back home. 

Chloe throwing herself into Noelle’s arms wasn’t all that surprising anymore, but the words that spilled out as she did so were. A part of the veterinarian scolded herself for not thinking of the possibility, so she wouldn’t be taken by so much surprise. The woman didn’t enjoy being caught off guard by situations, and she usually was ready for just about any possibility. There was nothing to be done about it right then though, so she just closed her eyes for a brief moment to take in exactly what was being said to her. 

Anxiety attempted to swell within her, but she stomped it down. The thoughts about how she’d just gotten Chloe back, the fear of the event planner wanting to stay even longer with her obviously wonderful family, and the questions about how they would work if that were the case were all placed within a small box that she’d unpack later. Right then, she put on a small smile and nodded. “I can’t hate you. That’s actually impossible for me to do,” she reassured first and foremost. “I understand why you want to stay longer. I can’t be upset at you for wanting more time with your family. It’s okay, Chlo.”

To Chloe’s credit, she didn’t cry, but she did refuse to look at Noelle’s face as these words were said. “Okay. Okay… That’s… Okay. I know you, uhm, might want to talk about other logistics. You’re the first person I’ve told,” Chloe said, still wrapping herself up into Noelle’s arms. “Except the entire internet. That knows I’m planning on booking this return flight. Do you want to, uhm, talk more about this now? Or later in our room?” She said this without thinking about it. ‘Our’ room as if Noelle belonged there too. Because she did. Chloe wanted Noelle anywhere that she was. But then Chloe was even more excited about her impending move into Noelle’s house. It was a lot to think about.

Worrying about her girlfriend was easier than paying any actual attention to her own feelings in that moment. Noelle refused to allow Chloe to feel guilty about wanting to stay, so she leaned forward and pressed a brief kiss on her girlfriend’s cheek. “You’re in the middle of a party with a bunch of people you love. It’s okay. It’s not like I won’t talk to you for two weeks,” she said as a way to reassure both her girlfriend and herself. A part of her wanted to say that she wished the woman had told her earlier if it was something playing on her mind for a while, but again it wasn’t the time or place. Plus, Noelle knew things had been hard since she’d returned from the kidnappings, so putting any more negativity on her girlfriend was something she was worried about. “I’ve got to go to our room in a little bit to make sure I’ve got everything packed, but I don’t want you fretting over this all night. I know you’re happy to be staying longer. It’s okay to be.” 

Apparently, Chloe was not doing as good as she had hoped when it came to keeping tears out of her eyes. She still averted Noelle’s gaze to keep from completely melting down at this party which was supposed to be a happy gathering. Pulling back, she wiped at her mostly-dry eyes with her sleeve, and took Noelle’s hand. “Auntie Dani was planning on breaking out her baby pictures at some point. If you wanted to catch her, I think I’m ready to face them,” Chloe suggested, focusing on the here and now. It confused her how she could feel so happy, loved, and upset all at once, but here she was. Even admitting that she wanted to go home had not stopped Chloe from feeling way too much all at once. “Why don’t we do that, and then I can’t let you pack up?” Dani’s stash of baby pictures was much more secretive and unknown than Chloe’s dad’s. Chloe herself had only seen them in little batches. “It probably will only take two minutes because she never does too many?”

Baby pictures being brought out was not something she could miss. While she was new at the whole significant other thing, she knew that families showing them to the new girlfriend or boyfriend was a big deal. Skipping that wouldn’t just make Chloe upset, but it would also bring attention she didn’t want. Noelle wasn’t the person who liked to be surrounded when she was upset by things. She liked to handle it on her own, or at the most now, with Chloe. “If you’re ready to handle it, then I don’t think I could pass up the chance at seeing you tiny,” she said playfully. Just the idea of how cute Chloe must have been made her discomfort ease slightly. “Plus, I’ll want to spend as much time as I can with you now, and I wouldn’t dream of taking you away from everyone.” While admitting her fears wasn’t something she could do outright in that moment, she could hint towards how much she would miss her girlfriend. Her own anxiety flaring up concerned her. Perhaps she had been more affected by the disappearances than she thought, and everyone just appearing again didn’t fix it. That was without even touching the abandonment fears her parents instilled in her. That box she would rather burn if she could. “Anything else on your to do list for tonight?” 

Of course Chloe wanted to spend as much time as possible with Noelle. Apart from toilet time, Chloe did not plan on spending much time apart between now and when the flight lifted off the next day. The flight that Chloe would not be on. This thought hurt enough that she had to blink back more tears. “I think I can get through it as long as I have you near me… even though you’re probably the reason the photos are being passed around to begin with,” she said, trying to take control of all of her loud and heartfelt emotions. Fighting a war with herself was not how she planned on spending her last evening with Noelle for two weeks (and after getting back only a couple months ago), but this was how it had to be. In two weeks, Chloe hoped to have all of that nasty homesickness buried for at least a little while longer. Getting to come back was a nice sort of promise to make to herself… but to come back to where? Chloe wished she knew. She tugged at Noelle’s hand in the direction of the rest of the party. “Nothing on the list except for doing our best to enjoy ourselves. And sleeping! But that can wait.”

The pictures were truly delightful, and Noelle made sure to kiss her girlfriend’s cheek or hand whenever she felt her getting too flustered. The veterinarian had tried to make sure that she didn’t show any signs of being upset. She laughed, talked, and made sure to give hugs goodbye when it was time for her to head to end. Their, no her, flight was for early in the morning, and she still had to do a last check before attempting to get some sleep. Although, she suspected the latter would be harder to come by. 

Fortunately, Noelle was a pretty tidy person overall, and she could never leave packing to the last minute, so she had very little to put away. All she needed was a last sweep of the room before she moved towards the bathroom to get ready for bed. Her movements once in there were a little slower than normal. A part of her was actually startled about how she was weary about being apart from someone for two weeks. That’s not a connection she ever thought she would ever feel not that long ago. When she finally emerged, she sat on her side of the bed and sighed lightly. “Make sure to send me your flight details for when you’re coming back, okay? I can make sure I’m there to pick you up at the airport.” It wasn’t much, but she truthfully had zero idea where to start. She knew Chloe wanted to talk, but Noelle didn’t have the slightest clue what else to say since it was all pretty cut and dry. 

Chloe nodded from her spot on the bed. She had already gotten through her part of the nighttime routine, and had been waiting for Noelle to finish up. The rest of the evening had been filled with little touches of anxiety-causing moments. Explaining to her dad that she would need to stay for longer had led to a very long dad hug. Wrapping herself up in a blanket, Chloe started speaking without really thinking too hard about it. “Of course I’ll send you the details. I can even add your email so that you get all the alerts that I do.” She was at least able to look into Noelle’s eyes again, but it still hurt horribly to think that she was only going to be able to see those through a screen for two weeks. “We’ve been doing so much every day here, and I loved that, but I- Sometimes I want to just have days where I don’t have to do anything but cook and have all of my family come home. I always feel so homesick, Elle.”

“That would be great,” she said quietly as she brought her legs up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. Noelle knew that Chloe missed home. She’d heard it multiple times in their time together. Still, something about the way her girlfriend was talking in that moment, but the veterinarian was too scared to voice it. It was so uncharacteristic of her, but she also wasn’t used to giving someone so much power to hurt her before. She knew Chloe would never do so intentionally, but if she decided that London was the only home she could ever see having, then what did it mean for them? The threat of the kidnappings was gone, so there wasn’t anything keeping her from going back home anymore. Her father’s safety had always been her priority. “I understand that,” she finally managed to get out. “I don’t like seeing you hurting. I’ve never seen you as happy as I have since we’ve been here. I just wish you talked to me about it more or sooner.” Maybe if they talked more, Noelle would know more what to expect. Instead, she was putting together jagged pieces of information and wondering if she and the rest of Icaria would ever be able to make Chloe truly happy. 

“You are absolutely right,” Chloe said, curling herself further into the blanket. “I should have told you what I wanted. Truthfully, I always thought I would move back home after the danger from the disappearances was resolved. I didn’t think they would ever be, uhm, fixed. A lot has changed in the last year for me, uh, so it’s been more difficult to explain?” Her voice was a little muffled through the blanket. “I love you so much, but I have to figure out what being home means to me a little better now that I get the chance to have it back. I have been happier. And I’ve been so happy to have you with me.” She could not quite figure out how to say that she wanted to be here with Noelle and have her happily ever after, even though it was a little more complicated than that. “I’ve been wanting you to tell me things, and I haven’t been telling you enough.”

At Chloe’s words, Noelle felt her spine unconsciously straighten as she froze. Move back to London? How had that not been something they talked about? Chloe spoke about how much she wanted a serious relationship, and yet, that wasn’t something she felt the veterinarian needed to know. It hurt and confused the woman. “I’ve heard that I love you followed by a but is never a good thing,” she said as she rested her head against her knees. There were so many things she wanted to say, but what surprised her most was how sadness was the first emotion to come forward instead of anger. She was typically such a hot head, or well, zap head, but she didn’t feel the urge to hurt Chloe verbally or in any way. “Chlo, I just — how did you think I didn’t deserve to know that you had always imagined moving back here after the kidnappings? Or maybe didn’t deserve isn’t the word, but I just — what does that mean for us?” It wasn’t fair, but she’d feel like a petulant child if she voiced that out loud. Hadn’t she learned long ago that life rarely was? As moisture gathered in the back of her eyes, she turned her head away to face the opposite wall and took in a deep breath. Gods, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d cried in front of someone. 

Chloe would have probably sworn if she was the kind of person that swore when things went wrong. But she wasn’t. So all she could think was, I’m an idiot. All of my teachers were right. I don’t deserve to be happy, and now I make everyone around me miserable. It was not exactly possible to curl further into herself and the blanket, but Chloe certainly tried. She had messed up so badly. Even though Ava had told her that she should tell Noelle this, the timing never quite seemed right. Every now and again, Chloe wondered when she should bring it up because she did owe it to Noelle. But she kept putting that off, telling herself that everything would work out fine. How exactly it would all be fine without admitting something important was up in the air, but she kept telling herself that. Which was lying. “Uhm. I- It, uh…” Words failed her completely. “In two weeks, uhm, I’m going to come back to you. Because I know I’ve never loved anybody else like I love you. It’s not an excuse, but I need these two weeks. I can… put off the two weeks for longer, but it means everything to me to- to be home again.” She was crying, but she always cried, so what was new about that?

Noelle took a deep breath and slowly released it. Making Chloe upset wasn’t her intention. She just — she didn’t understand. Out of the two of them, her girlfriend had always been the one to communicate well. The idea that she’d kept something so big out of their relationship just didn’t make much sense. “No,” she said with a. Shake of her head. “I don’t want you to put it off because all I’ll be doing is worrying about what you’ll decide when you do and walking on eggshells,” she admitted honestly. That amount of anxiety wouldn’t go well with her already hostile temperament. “What if being in Icaria won’t make you happy, Chlo? What am I —“ she started but stopped herself. Instead, she unwrapped her arms from around her legs and scooted closer towards her girlfriend. Fighting wasn’t how she wanted to spend their time together. “I love you. You’ve said it twice now, and I don’t want you to think I have stopped loving you or something else equally as doomsday. I guess we’ll just have to wait and see how you feel after staying home longer.” 

Chloe could voice her love every hour of every day, and still not feel like it was enough times. It was such an important truth to her, that it did not strike her as something stressful until Noelle pointed it out for this particular conversation. She reached out a hand when Noelle came closer, but did not quite uncurl from her blanket sphere. “Whatever happens here… That isn’t going to change the way I feel about you. I want to move in with you, and I want to share my life with you,” Chloe said, starting to cry even more when her feelings kicked into overdrive. She felt everything so strongly, it was like trying to stick a hand into the fire. The good warmth turned quickly into pain. There was no way that she could have everything she wanted at the same time, so she needed to get her head together. “Waiting is all we can do… I’ll tell you everything I’m feeling- as it happens, if you would like me to? All of the ideas I have. And feelings. I don’t want you to miss anything important, if it’ll help.”

At the sight of Chloe’s hand, Noelle reached for it without even thinking about it and intertwined their fingers. “And I want you happy and not feeling like you’re missing out on the place you really want to be when you’re with me,” she answered truthfully. Being selfish with Chloe wasn’t something she could allow herself to do. Long distance was something she truly didn’t believe worked, but she’d try it if it was necessary. The vet just wished she’d had more time to absorb everything and what it could mean before they put things into action. “I don’t want you worrying about me the whole time you’re here. You can’t split yourself in two, Chlo. If being here is what you need to figure things out, then I want you to do that. It won’t do either of us any good if you don’t know what you need.” 

Chloe just about melted when their fingers intertwined, and she gave up on being in isolation. It was difficult to be far apart from Noelle for long when her girlfriend was right there. Chloe curled into Noelle’s shoulder, and hoped that she would not be pushed away. “I’ll worry about you no matter what. You know that, don’t you? I’ll talk to you every day at the very least- if you can make the time for me, and- and we can talk about feelings. And do whatever we can to get our happy ending.” She didn’t want to have to be sad anymore. She wanted to not be so out of touch with home, and feel fulfilled. And to be able to support her friends. It was a pretty substantial list, but she wanted to see how much of it she could get. “Cuddling into you is the best feeling in the world, though. I’m going to miss that.”

Feeling her girlfriend curl into her made Noelle feel better as she leaned her head against the one on her shoulder. “Make time for you,” she asked incredulously. “Chlo, you’re my girlfriend. I won’t ever squeeze you into my schedule. My schedule works around you.” Making Chloe feel second to anything wasn’t ever something that Noelle would do if she could help it. “I’ll be there for you, Chlo.” A small smile did form on the woman’s face at her girlfriend’s last words. They were just so Chloe. “You’ve turned me into someone who cuddles. I’ll let you know when I land tomorrow, and then we’ll just figure everything else out.” She sounded much more confident about it all than she felt, but there wasn’t much they could do that evening. Chloe needed to figure things out on her own. All Noelle could do was hope that it didn’t lead to them spending more time apart than together. 

Chloe felt more tense than she wanted to be, but this was the best outcome that she could have asked for with what was known so far. “But make sure I’m not forcing you to do anything you don’t want me to, okay?” Her chest started to hurt, but she hoped that everything would end up working out. She did not think that she could take another heartbreak when everything had almost been so perfect. “I didn’t turn you into anything. Maybe you just wanted cuddles all along, but didn’t know how,” Chloe said, not wanting this to come off as teasing. It was an earnest belief. She pressed a kiss where she could reach (shoulder), and did her best to relax. While Chloe typically did not sleep that much, she hoped that the number would not drop down to zero this time. She was so in love and in so much mental anguish at the same time that it was difficult to get anything else done.

[bettsfic]

a third stance on the moral dichotomy of fandom

i have one more thing to say, or i guess reiterate, on the topic of moral purity policing in fanfiction as perpetuated by minors, in a more rebloggable format than my previous asks. what i have to say is an incredibly unpopular opinion because it takes neither side of this dichotomized issue, and addresses, not the minors perpetuating the purity rhetoric, but the adults fighting against it. 

first i’ll offer a run-down of the overall issue at hand:

side 1, or what i call “think of the CHILDREN”: there is a large sect of people in fandom right now, mostly teens and young adults as far as i can tell, who believe that taboo works (noncon and underage) should not be allowed to exist. if they are written, they should be flagged and subsequently taken down. these people seem to hold these beliefs for several reasons, the prevailing ones being “fiction affects reality” and “children might read it!!” this stance is the active one, the (literal) minority, the side trying to enact change upon an established and (legally) supported status quo. these people do not separate the art from the artist. 

in practice, these beliefs are aggressive and toxic. we see them in rude or cruel anonymous asks urging writers to kill themselves. we see them in “only follow if” and “do not interact if” pages with lengthy bullet point lists of traits and behaviors that are Not Okay. we see them in yfip. we see them in anti tags. we see them in long, poorly researched and contextualized responses to well-meaning pro-”ship and let ship” posts. we see them in accusations of pedophilia for fics and ships that are not in fact pedophilic. we see them in phrases like “abuse apologists” and “problematic” and “romanticize” and “fetishize.” 

despite the seeming growth of what i’ve been calling the Gen Z Puritanical Movement, what we see on tumblr is only a narrow view of a much wider issue spanning outside fandom and into the world of art itself. it stems from problems of decades past, McCarthyism, the Hays Code, the nuclear family, for example, and the subsequent counterculture movements against them. right now Gen X has all the power and prestige in the enormous world art, and being the children of Baby Boomers, they simultaneously believe you must always separate the art from the artist, while also widely disbelieving (or having had to learn) that inequality and disenfranchisement have any bearing in the success of art. 

“the discourse” as we call it has its roots in every creative field and we are in midst of a revolution in the way we understand and interact with art. i believe, with any revolution, the answer is not in stalling it but negotiating with it, learning from it, interrogating it, and adapting. 

side 2, which i’ll unpack below, is comprised mostly of what i would venture are Millennials, and fall somewhere between Gen Z purity and Gen X freedom. and as much as i want to discuss this gaping chasm of beliefs further, i’m specifically talking about the way transformative art is presently policed by side 1.

which brings us to the other side.

side 2, or what i call “i do what i WANT”: these people believe that a fan writer/artist should be able to write, post, and share with the public any creative work the mind can devise as long as it is warned/tagged properly, and all people who do not want to view their art should walk away and not interact. key phrases include “ship and let ship” and “don’t like, don’t read.” the prevailing root of this belief is that all art is valid and important, all art belongs, even when that art is devised entirely by the id. additionally, they believe they do not have to justify, defend, or explain their art in order for it to exist, and most importantly, it is every reader/viewer’s responsibility to understand the difference between fiction and reality. these people separate art from the artist. 

in practice, these beliefs are poised to defend of the attacks from side 1. this is a reaction to a movement, an assertion of maintaining the status quo. we see posts speaking to an audience of side 1, pleading or at times demanding for them to learn not only the fraught history of fanworks but also the greater context of art and censorship. these posts are then reblogged by people with similar beliefs, attacked by side 1, and no one seems to really learn anything at all. the dichotomy is maintained. battles end as posts fall into obscurity, but the war rages on.

side 2 holds the status quo, the most common sense. it is the most educated perspective, upheld by the wiser and older parties of fandom, the transformative artists who have lived through strikethrough and boldthrough and have experienced the damaging consequences of the censorship and ideology of side 1. moreover, it is upheld by the actual people who built and run the archive on which our art rests. in this dichotomy, side 2 has all the power. side 2 is the majority. 

here’s where i get to my incredibly unpopular opinion:

people in positions of power have no reason to meet aggression with more aggression except to re-establish and assert that power over the minority opinion. aggression does not sway the minority opinion; it only fuels it. 

in other, more practical words, we are ADULTS sharing a public community space with CHILDREN, and some of those children have made it clear that they are angry. 

why do we meet that anger with anger when we are older and wiser and have all the authority? if a child is having a violent tantrum, do you punch them in the face? no, you hold their wrists. you calm them down. you ask them what’s wrong. you try to parse out what happened and work together to make sure it doesn’t happen again. you can’t expect them to articulate that anger; you have to ask questions. you have to listen to them.

side 1 says that taboo works are wrong and bad and shameful. i personally disagree with that belief, but my curiosity lies in the extreme emotional reaction and value judgments behind it. and when enough people are angry about something, if a movement becomes wide enough, it means there is something else going on, some seed of truth happening somewhere -- a needle in a haystack, an invisible shard of glass on the kitchen floor -- that needs to be found. i’m not saying side 1 is right, but i am saying that there is something in that anger which might ring true, even if the toxic rhetoric they are spouting is not. i don’t know what that truth is, and the point of this post is not to find it, but to encourage us to seek bigger answers about this very big problem.

side 2, you might be saying, they’re not children, they’re teenagers and young adults. you might be saying, when i was their age, i knew to obey the etiquette of fandom. you might be saying, we are not equals, they should be learning from us. you might be saying, it’s their responsibility to know fiction from reality. you might be saying, none of this is my responsibility. you might be saying, this movement is getting bigger and scarier and it may become an actual threat to our art. 

and you might be feeling: i have no interest in logically or morally defending the taboo nature my aesthetic interests. i know that they appeal to me, and i know i should not be tasked with or required to publicly explain myself. i should not have to assert that art is separate from the artist. i should not have to endure aggressive mobs of anons in my inbox. i should not be chased away by pitchforks held by my own community. i should not be accused of being a predator, rapist, abuse apologist, or pedophile. 

and maybe you know that you are not any of those things, and to be accused of them is ridiculous and appalling, but maybe it still hurts to be called all of that which makes life so dangerous and cruel. maybe it always hurts to have your art misunderstood.

this brings me back to anger. all anger is devised of pain and fear. we get angry when we’re hurt and scared. when i see two angry sides of a wide divide, all i see is that fear and pain, and all i want is to lessen it. 

on side 1, we have a group of young people whose only context is the present and whose only fear is the future. i put myself in the shoes of what it must be like to be a teenager in america in 2018, how different it is from when i was a teenager. teen stars on red carpet events in 2005 dressed in ugly cargo pants and sweatshirts. millie bobby brown at 13 was dressed like a supermodel at last year’s emmy’s. young people today have more and easier access to information pertaining to violence and sex, consume media steeped in those things, than they ever have. and it’s becoming increasingly difficult for parents to keep them from that interaction. side 2′s rhetoric around this is to wipe their hands free of it -- “your parents should monitor what you’re doing on the internet.” and they should, they absolutely should, but while technology has changed, teenage curiosity hasn’t. i clicked past every 18+ warning i’ve ever seen in my life, and that was my choice, and i handled the consequences. 

but just for a second imagine being 14 again, and curiosity getting the best of you, and clicking on something in which your physical equivalent is being hurt and abused and eroticized. can you imagine not having any understanding of the greater context of what you’ve just read, in art or in life? wouldn’t you be scared too, to know those things exist? wouldn’t you be reluctant to listen to the explanation of them when you are young and afraid and suddenly aware that you can be hurt? 

i am not encouraging writers to stop creating taboo fanworks. i think they have an important artistic purpose and function and place, and i value any mind that can conceive and face such darkness. but as someone who aims to understand as much as i possibly can about what it is to be human, to be alive today, i am inclined to consider the various interpretations of taboo art and its potential repercussions. 

teenagers today are more aware and attuned to -- and have constant access to -- current events than any other generation before, but that does not mean they have learned or educated themselves on the historical context of these events in order to understand them fully. they don’t have a wide perspective, but they do have their moral compasses guided by the abhorrence of the constant human rights violations that occur on macro and micro scales every single day, and it’s those compasses that place value judgments on the content they consume in fandom, the place where they feel, i speculate, the most valued. the place they have the most power and sway. the only place, maybe, that their voice and fear and anger is ever heard, witnessed, responded to, taken seriously. 

being a teenager today is a completely new and terrifying machine made of old parts. we, the adults in fandom, understand the parts but not the machine. how can all the same parts make something so different from us? who built this monster, and how to we destroy it? why is it attacking us when there are bigger and more important battles to fight? why doesn’t it go read a fucking book for once?

that brings us to side 2. if side 1 has the future, side 2 has the past. we see the toxic rhetoric of side 1 and we know what consequences can come of it because we’ve lived the worst of it. we have both the pain of the past and the fear of the future to handle, and neither are easy to cope with. 

so what do we do? we either get angry and fight back, or disengage. sometimes i think the latter is the most toxic of all, because i believe it’s every artist’s responsibility to understand the work they’re doing and the greater context of that work, how it fits in their given lexicon of art. they should not be required to defend it or speak for it, but they should know it. inside and out, they should know their art and why they make it. 

i also believe, if you know your art and why you make it, if you can separate yourself the artist from the art, why disengage from those who are repulsed but reaching out? it’s definitely my gut instinct to meet cruelty with anger and upsetness, but cruelty also piques my curiosity -- i want to know where the repulsion comes from. i want to ask questions. why are you offended by this art? how have you interpreted it? why are you afraid of it? how has its existence hurt you? if nothing else, it always gives me a broader understanding of my work and how it can be seen, which is invaluable feedback for any artist. 

if there is any bridge at all to be built between this divide, i think it is in our ability to ask questions, listen to the answers, and use those answers, not to argue with or defend ourselves or to become upset by, but to ask more questions. 

here are two ways this mentality has helped me -- 

in my old job (commercial finance real estate), i worked with upperclass middle-aged white men who got paid six figures a year to golf and cheat on their wives while i did all their paperwork. eventually i made a hobby of sitting in their offices and asking them questions, knowing they had authority over me, knowing our opinions differed. knowing i had no place to argue with them or leverage in telling them all the ways i felt they were wrong about politics and society at large. i pretended they were teaching me things, showing me the way of the world. i let them believe that, and i continued asking questions, forcing them to articulate aloud why they believed what they believed, hours and hours, slowly boxing them into corners from which they would eventually change their own minds.

in my current job (i’m a college instructor) i do something similar. i sit down with every single student one on one and i ask them questions about their political and social beliefs. often my students are 19, white, straight, affluent, conservative young adults who hold many of the same puritanical ideas as that of side 1 with less of the toxic rhetoric. at first, i was terrified to do this. it was different than my old job because suddenly i was the one with authority. i thought, what if i encounter racism? prejudice? sexism? what if they are fundamentally wrong on every level, and won’t listen to me, someone who knows the greater context of their opinions? what if i end up arguing with them? what if they don’t respect me? what if i can’t change their minds? and most importantly -- is it my responsibility to change their minds at all?

after the first semester, i realized how young they were, how much they still had left to grow, and learn, and live, and that my class would not be able to teach them everything they needed to know in order to strip away the prejudices and narrow-mindedness of their upbringings. i learned that all i could do was be a person in a position of authority listening to their beliefs and asking them tough questions no one has ever asked them. forcing them on the spot to articulate the beliefs they have not before had the opportunity to interrogate. i find i rarely agree with what they say, but i validate their right and ability to say it. to have a voice and space and responsibility in and to society. to think, itself. and most importantly to think through their ideals, which they cannot do if they are never given a chance to be heard, if they are never asked the questions whose answers will lead them to deeper and more meaningful insights.

i have never changed the mind of a single person by arguing, but i have changed several minds by asking. 

we have an entire generation of terrified young people who are lashing out, and i do not want to hate them. i do not want to meet their rage and toxicity with fear, defensiveness, and dismissal. i want to sympathize and listen. i want to know more about why they feel how they feel, what the real root of it is, the seeds of truth behind the rhetoric. i want to understand. and mostly, i want to help fix all the broken and awful things in the greater sociopolitical sphere that have built this terrifying machine and dug our moral divide.

[noro-noro-noro]

dreams typed immediately after wakingup

1. manga that i’ve read changes plot 2. shrek worries he’s going to get cucked. then my family moves to the mountains 3. app that i’ve had on my phone for 6 years adds public rap battles

1. i had the hard copy of "I want to hold aono-kun so badly I could die" & I was reading it but the plot was different - the characters & art style were the same but aono was gone & the story was about kariya & a curse that had been put on her that got worse the longer it went on - she was cursed for everything to hurt her & anyone who helped her would get hurt too. like mundane tasks would try & get her killed. she would come home every day with minor injuries but they kept getting worse & worse until she would literally come home covered in blood bc of the day's events. i remember that she had a blond friend who would check her for any burrs or sticks or glass or trees or something but on the last day, a piece of broken glass came through the window & cut her friend's pinky off when she touched kariya?? also she had a note or some knowledge that something was gonna come kidnap her on "the last day" & her friends wanted to srick up for her but the broken glass cutting her finger was enough of a warning that they couldn't be around her. it was nighttime and snowing outside BTW.

they promised they'd watch to see who approached her house at midnight and stop them & she dejectedly agreed. anyway midnight! she had a large flesh raven that looked like it was corrupted by darkest dungeon final boss & some gigantic demon starts taking shape outside & the Raven flies to its shoulder & then the book ends & there's an author's note that says "idk if I'm gonna write volume 4. bye" & I was so mad. we didn't even know WHY she had Been cursed.

2. movies Ng to rla remote mountain mansion n with my dad & sister & uncle & it's very pretty gorgeous autumn trees and rolling hills in every direction, a big lake with hammocks, the sun was setting - I was also Shrek & Fiona simultaneously & the lake was like a big dining hall & it was Fiona's birthday & all everyone's friends were there, human Fiona specifically for some reason ?? (this Shrek part was before we moved) & a shady prince guy came in & asked Fiona for help mingling with high society so she was somewhat taken aback & agreed to get brunch with him the next day to teach him to be fancy, much to Shrek's chagrin. THEN the surrounding area becomes the lake & stuff. Shrek does not want Fiona hanging out with this dude but he has work so he's working on his little spreadsheets and glaring malevolently ofd the balcony while Fiona walks around the mansion with the shady guy who keeps trying to make a move on her but she keeps casually swerving him. anyway theb it's sunset suddenly & I realize I haven't heard from my dad or uncle all day so I run up the hill to the top of the mountain mansion (for some reason I'm dragging a long ornamental plant) & everything is fine, a tree fell on a power line. i start unpacking in my room to get my laptop out & my desk is only 3 feet wide.

3. playing Godville on my phone but they changed it & added a rap battle feature where you were randomly matched with 2 other people & you had to get on vc & rap battle. they also added a top down dungeon that wasn't ascii art so I was like wtf doesn't this go against the principles of the game?? anyway I was killing my rap battle bc I was talking about how big my dick was but the other guys hated it & had me kicked from the rap battle.room.

[leaveharmony]

@nimmenstjer Ah...not really?  My father whom I prefer not to call that at all, is not a good man. 

Cut for...I mean it's not as bad as it could be or even as bad as it may still get, but, some of it might be familiar for people who've had (emotionally/mentally) abusive parents and thus upsetting.  Also, laments about his vicious bigot streak.

To begin with, he's a bigot.  This was less clear and blatant before their grand high wizard took the white house, because he's also that special variety of Trump supporter that has him swallowing lies hook line & sinker; this idiot honestly hand-on-heart believes the mayor of San Juan is “trying to make the administration look bad” by begging assistance for her dying people. He used to operate under a more lowkey bumbling fool level of bigotry which would see him make awful “jokes,” spurt gibberish at me and laugh about it whenever I brought home Japanese food, occasionally go on a profanity-laced tirade when he was having trouble hooking up a minifridge made in China...etc.  it was always unacceptable but easy to...not dismiss, but....it's tricky to articulate.  I always hated it but I thought he was merely fucking stupid, at the time - and you might actually make more progress arguing with a rock, which might have some capacity for intelligent thought.  And don't get me wrong, he IS fucking stupid, holy shit is he ever fucking stupid.   But since Trump announced his candidacy and everybody laughed about it (I never, ever laughed about it) he's been 100x worse because now he sincerely believes that the vile shit spewing out of that walking asshole is what ~everybody secretly believes~ and that anybody who gets upset about it is just performing outrage...pretending to be mad when they're really just as foul, but want to look better than other people. The extent of this didn't become apparent until it really came clear that Trump had a chance.  I was asleep, as is my custom wearing earplugs, but a noise woke me.  With my earplugs in I couldn't figure out what it was at first, so I got up and listened close to my door with the earplugs still in and the first thing I heard was “YOU TELL ME WHAT OBAMA DID!” He'd been pontificating about how Trump had just as much experience as Obama had when it came to ‘being president’ before he took the job, and mum, god love her, this time she tried to very gently explain that the moron had no political experience at all, and he just blew up at her.   Like, my earplugs shave about 30 decibels off and he was yelling so loud that he woke me out of REM sleep on the other side of the house, behind a door and a wall.  Mum, she later confessed, was terrified.  Hell, I was terrified - I was just paralyzed there, frozen at the door and wondering if he was gonna hit her this time and what should I do, would going out there antagonize him further or shake him out of it?

He's always been abusive.  And I've always been afraid of him in a vague way, probably since the one time he did actually hit me as a child (I don't remember what for, only that it taught me that resistance would lead to violence disguised as discipline).  But this was the first time he really made me afraid of what he was capable of if he lost his temper hard enough.

It's usually little things, though, over years. I remember when my brother and I were kids and we all had the big family dinner at grandma's, we had to act totally calm and reserved when opening presents.  This was because dad's brother's kids, my cousins Shawn and Kristina, would tear around like...well, children on christmas...being boisterous and loud and tearing the paper and goofing off.  We had to go slowly and have muted reactions and most importantly, be quiet about it, so that he could prove to his brother that even if we were poorer and he didn't have as good a job or as big a house, that his kids were 'better' and so he was still winning. He shut my wrist in the car door in the parking lot at Zellers, once.   Total accident,  but I couldn't get it out and the door had locked (this was when you actually had to unlock the door manually with a key) and so I panicked and screamed, and so while my wrist was caught in the car door and I was screaming in terror, he was simultaneously yelling at me to be quiet because I was making a scene. Another time when we were camping, I woke up with the most intense pain I'd ever experienced, in my ear.  I thought I was dying, that was how bad it was, and I was crying and begging him to take me to a doctor and he was yelling at me to shut the fuck up and go back to sleep because the other campers might hear me. When he dragged us to this house and my brother got a hampster, he put its cage on the dresser right up against the wall my bed is against...this is why I wear earplugs to this day, because the hampster would be up all night running on its wheel directly next to my head and rather than asking my brother to move the cage, I was shouted down and had to resort to sleeping with earplugs in. To this day I find it very difficult to make noise, or verbally display enthusiasm, or feel like I'm genuinely displaying proportionate gratitude, because I've internalized my training to such a degree that I'm always policing my own reactions (the literal only exception to this was when I was In the Presence Of Nakamura at Takeover and the racists behind me pissed me off so bad that I actually joined in on the chants for him and Asuka just to try to drown them out).  It’s the ultimate shame to let anybody catch me crying, I can’t...I’m not allowed to, I’m not allowed.  I’m not allowed to be angry and I’m not allowed to be sad or upset.

And I can’t...I don’t get mad at them or anything but I have to carry earplugs with me whenever I go out because children crying or screaming or making noise just sets me right off, like 0-60 in no time at all, it’s like a trigger and I have to shut the noise out, I have to plug my ears and get as far away as I can, it upsets me on levels I can’t even begin to articulate.  That one’s...gonna take some unpacking if I ever get out of here alive.

I've developed hoarding tendencies because of all the times he's thrown away, sold or destroyed my property the second I let it out of my signt.  He tossed my wooden clogs in the trash on pickup day when I was in elementary school, presumably because he didn't like the noise they made...I loved those things, but no longer remember what they looked like.  He sold my doll cradle to a lady at a garage sale for $5 while I literally sobbed and begged him not to.  He moved my Jericho standee out to the garage even as I fiercely protested (as much as I dared) because I thought he'd end up throwing it away; not only did he throw it away, but he cut it into pieces and hauled it to the dump, didn't even tell me about it until I went out to get it (he was clearing out the garage and it suddenly occurred to me to move it).  Of course he yelled, when I started to cry.  Laughed about it the next day like it was the funniest thing he'd ever done.  He wouldn't turn around to go look for my Stormer doll when I left her at a campsite...we hadn't even left the park yet, but he wouldn't turn around...I don't remember what she looked like, either, her loss completely eclipsed all memories that preceded it.  ...it was so upsetting that I still catch myself thinking of it as “When Stormer died” rather than “when I lost my doll.”  And then I feel stupid because it was just a doll, they were just things.  I care too much about my things, that have never hurt me, always listen, don’t yell.  It’s one of those unhealthy coping things, I guess.  Stupid.  I built lil-Shin a shoebox house.

So I'm hyper paranoid about anybody being in my space or leaving anything laying around, anybody touching my things.  Cos the second I let my guard down he might go on another raid and I'll lose something I can never replace, so everything, everything is in here.

I remember one time we went to a ballgame and my mother took ill...she literally threw up in a trash can outside Skydome, I can still remember exactly how she looked because her face was just grey, and I thought she was gonna die, and he was just shouting at her like she was faking it to spite him. When we went go Halifax I felt faint on the boardwalk and asked to sit down and have some water and he blew up, calling me Your Highness and and ingrate  and a whiner...again, like I was overstating it or putting it on just to antagonize him or try to trick him.

He comments on everything we eat.  I can't put food in my mouth in his presence without him saying 'eating again' or 'stuffing your face' or making glutton noises....at the same time, he'll finish his own food and then take some of ours.  Anything mum buys for herself, he'll take it. He literally steals from her, he's gone in her purse and taken money.

He polices me right down to the expression on my face..if I don't maintain a mask on the positive side of neutral I've got an 'attitude' and I've got to 'learn some gratitude'

He tells us to 'settle down' if we laugh too loud at something and we're 'stick in the mud' if we don't display enough amusement at something he finds funny.

And that MOTHERFUCKING WOMAN he's been ferrying around....jfc.  About four or maybe even five years ago he started driving this fucking woman he worked with, Joanna, back and forth to work.  I don't mean she lives a block away and they carpooled, I mean, she lives a half hour away in another city and he started driving to Barrie to pick her up, then back here to work, and then the whole thing in reverse again after they were done at work.  He's brought this woman's broken appliances here to try and fix them.  He's helped her move, he's been at her beck and call, he's literally chosen to drive a half hour away to take her to fucking Wal-Mart rather than drive his own wife to the doctor's office.  The real kicker is she's a polish immigrant - and we “don't know how hard she has it.”  Because he can sympathize with them as long as they're white blonde ladies, of course.  I'd think they were fucking if he wasn't repulsive, more likely she knew a sucker when she saw him coming.  He's currently storing her completely inoperable SUV in our fucking garage (the same one that didn't have room for my Jericho standee, hanging on the goddamn wall) because her landlord told her to get rid of it.  He said, one or two weeks, two months ago.  His own not-even-paid-for car is sitting out in the driveway, reeking of cigarettes because he lets her smoke when he drives her.  The urge to pay some kid to heave a rock through his windshield is almost overwhelming...I kick the side of that fucking SUV every time I go in the garage.

I hate him more than I've ever hated anyone in my entire life, and I'm utterly broken from decades of walking on eggshells, enduring the abuse, surviving.  We're trapped here with him because we simply can't survive financially otherwise.  It's like living at the corner of a spiderweb and trying not to move suddenly enough to trigger a reaction from the spider. I'm tense....all the time.  All the time.  My Daryl tattoo will featuring him floating gently in the ether, carrying a banner that says ‘Tranquilo’ not out of any great love of Naito, but as a reminder that constantly tensing my shoulders is prolonging my injury rehab and I need to try and relax.

It's not as bad as it could be.  I should be grateful it isn't. Mostly I just quietly wish he'd die, and then feel guilty about it.