#because I know arguing is disrespectful to them and the effort they’re putting forth to say something in the first place

[vstheworld]

today I was told by my manager that I’m frustratingly unable to take compliments or positive feedback, and that I just brush them off and move on like

genuinely I’m so confused. I don’t know what I’m SUPPOSED to do. false confidence? fawning thanks? also give them a compliment?

this job hurts me right in the autism

[salmonid-ink]

Let’s talk about Salmonid intelligence!

There seems to be a wide misconception that Salmonids aren’t intelligent, or at the very least, aren’t as smart as Octolings or Inklings. This idea couldn’t be farther from the truth! And because I’m the Resident Salmonid Fanatic™ it’s my job to talk about this. 

In hopes to make people consider and think of Salmonids in a better light, and NOT as pets, I’m going to do my best to pull evidence from in-game, as well as interviews, that imply or outright confirm that Salmonids are sapient, much like our beloved Octolings and Inklings. 

To start, I’d like to touch on their interactions with other creatures, namely their trade deal with the Octarians. It’s hard to argue for Salmonids not being intelligent when you consider the confirmed fact that they actively trade with other creatures to benefit the both of them.

They exchange their useful Power Eggs (and perhaps vegetables and fruits) to the Octarians for mechanical blueprints, weapons, and machine parts (and potentially tentacle cuts for food). We can wager this trade deal has been going on for a long time, as the Salmonids are fitted to the gills with machinery, and you can make the argument that the Octomaw was inspired by Maws!

While the Salmonids could easily take these blueprints and make the machines exactly as the Octarians planned them, these fish take it one step beyond and put their own twist on things! With their intellect, they’ve customized traditional weapons to suit them better, and the examples can be seen in just about every boss you encounter. 

Ink Storm + Brella -> Drizzler

Sting Ray -> Stinger

Ink Jet + Tenta Missiles -> Flyfish

Splash Wall -> Steel Eel

Baller/Splashdown   -> Steelhead

Shielded Octotrooper + Roller  -> Scrapper

Octocopter -> Chinook

Flooder -> Griller

Octo Seeker -> Mothership

Additionally, they are INSANELY resourceful, able to use any scrap of metal or machinery to make their contraptions, and make them decently reliable. Not to mention the fact that Scrappers are able to repair their cars! On the fly! All while under fire! That takes dedication AND smarts!!

Not to mention the fact that Smallfry, who could very well be babies (and I will argue that they are, as there is no benefit to stunting the growth of ANY creature), are able to pilot Flyfish. They were raised just right in the best environment, and now they’re super smart!

Also, Salmonids are crazy creative, with how they’ve incorporated their cookware into their weaponry. They take their aesthetic to the next level, man.

Next, lest talk about their homes!

It’s vastly clear that they have their own society. At the very least, we can take a glimpse of it with their houses. The Lost Outpost (known as the Colony at Sea in Japan) is a great example of this!

While these houses look like they were cobbled together with recycled parts, which falls in line with Salmonid resourcefulness, they are clearly stable living spaces that were built by he Salmonids themselves with ocean living and fishing in mind. 

Additionally, towards the back of the stage, we can see another house with a city on the horizon. While this is purely speculation, I don’t think it’s too much of a stretch to believe that this city is Salmonid-owned. The areas you go to are claimed to be restricted ocean zones, and given that you’re so far out that you need a house-sized radio dish just to communicate, it’s hard to believe that the city would be owned by anyone else. 

I think these city-based homes would be owned by Salmonids that work with machinery, such as repairmen and mechanics. This could also include artisans! Farmers would obviously live in more rural areas, where they can plant and grow their crops. 

We can also glean a similar idea from the Spawning Grounds (called the Salmonid Dam in many other languages): 

I will argue until the day I die that the dam found in the Spawning Grounds, as well as the adjacent city, belongs to the Salmonids, as evidence by its proximity to the stage, the green water pouring from the dam, and the very clear Salmonid mark on it.

Whether this city was built by them, or it’s one they took ahold of and built upon during one of their past migrations is yet to be determined, seeing my speculations are even true. Either way, it’s clear that the Salmonids are capable of building structures and homes with ease!

If we talk about their homes, even if this is much more on the speculative end, we’ve also GOT to talk about the factory we can see at Marooner’s Bay:

Again, given the proximity to Salmonid territory, as well as the various Salmonid-themed items around the stage, we can speculate that these factories are Salmonid owned, and perhaps where they work on many of their machines and devices.

Things such as Scrapper Cars, Steel Eels, Flyfish jets, Grillers, and Motherships could be constructed here, or this place could be used for processing water or chemicals! It’s a rather vague factory, so again, this is all theoretical. I haven’t a clue what they do here. 

Next let’s talk about their art. The existence of art alone should be enough of an indicator that they have minds to think and feel with! Especially when their designs are as intricate as these:

The most of these can be seen around the Lost Outpost and Spawning Grounds, but every single stage has a few of these markings floating around. I don’t currently have many in-stage caps on hand, but if you take the time to look around, you’ll find a few on the ground and walls!

While a lot of these are very clearly graffiti markings, the intricate designs may have some meaning. While we haven’t a clue what exactly they mean, or what they represent, I think they’re extremely fascinating, and give us a peek into what culture Salmonids have. 

They’re likely made with stencils, but all the same, they were designed carefully, and must hold SOME significance.

I have a theory that these designs are primarily to mark specific territories. Perhaps certain marks mean different schools and families! Or some of them could be warnings, such as to indicate Grizz activity (such as with the bear icon, which appears in a few stages). 

I believe in part, these are a form of expression, ESPECIALLY if they indicate schools. There are so many unique fish-shaped designs, it’d be cool to see how these correlate to individual groups!

They could also be a visual indicator for Inklings and Cephalopods that, yes, this is Salmonid territory, so you’d best stay away! Because while it’d be easy for a Salmonid to tell what area belongs to who by smell alone, Inklings certainly don’t have that luxury!

At any rate, I’d love to see what personal art looks like for Salmonids. What kind of crafts do they make? What sort of things do they love to paint? We don’t really know, and we can only speculate...

One thing we know for certain is that Salmonids appreciate music. It even seems as though they’re inspired by it, given the descriptions that the Salmon Run songs have.

I feel like this is worth stating, even if their existence is fairly common knowledge: ω-3. A band. That plays complex instruments. And does all their own mixing. 

Pretty freakin’ smart, I must say!

Additionally, each of the members have VASTLY different styles. The Cellist is stern and stubborn, and won’t accept anything but the best, be it in passion or in radical works. The timpanist is soulful, passionate, and is straight to the point. The DJ is reckless and disrespectful, yet puts forth his best effort.

All three of them are so unalike to one another in style and personality. They may not even get along that well, but at the end of the day, they value working together SO MUCH that they make amazing, unique, and great-sounding songs that stir and inspire their people. 

It’d be amazing to see what other types of music that Salmonids like, because this can’t be the only kind. However the style of  ω-3 certainly goes hand-in-hand with the chaotic, resourceful, and determined nature of the Salmonids. 

We should also touch up on the fact that Salmonids are stated to have tradition. Aside from their 70-year migration, they’re also stated to pass cookware from generation to generation in Sunken Scroll #19.

"Salmonids are known to keep their weapons in tip-top shape. The frying pans they wield have often been passed down from generation to generation. You can see the unwavering pride of these fierce warriors in their (somewhat crazed) eyes."

I like to think that they also pass things like recipes and other tools down to their offspring and kin. Family and schools on the whole appear to be very important to them, which ties directly into their drive to work together as a unit, rather than separately as a makeshift team.

For some conventional evidence, look at this one bit from the Merry Fishmas piece, posted by official Splatoon sources: 

I LOVE this image, and there are so many tiny details that you can make out in this. Such as these two:

THEY ARE PLAYING CARDS, and this ain’t no dogs playing poker bit, either! It looks like the other one is losing really bad... Or going into a food coma. One way or another, the other Salmonid is trying to check up on them, haha. Or maybe they’re trying to sneak a peek at the other’s cards? Who knows! That sly grin tells a story.

Also, there’s this Goldie, who is fishing:

These are all pretty human-like characteristics, which makes me think, all the more, that they’re on par with Inklings intelligence wise. I REALLY want to see more interactions like this someday, it fills my heart with delight and joy.

Phew.. Well, thank you so much for sticking with me through this whole thing. I hope this helps people get more perspective on Salmonids, and what little we know about their community and culture. 

[sj-thefan]

Under the Moonlight P.3 (Ahkmenrah x reader)

Hey there! So It’s been a while since I updated this series, aka over a year, so please forgive me. Thank you for reading, if you do! I really enjoy this story. I’m thinking there may be one or two parts after this.

The events of the 2nd movie (Battle of the Smithsonian) have been changed, i.e. Abraham Lincoln does not crash through the window at the end. Also, it’s never mentioned how Kahmunrah knows how to speak multiple languages, which bothers me, but I didn’t care enough to create a backstory.

Also, as a reminder, bolded text is spoken in Arabic.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

Taglist:

@megalony​

@beautiful-tragic-fallout

@zoemonster200​

@a--1--1--3​

@mp0625​

Larry would never freely give the combination to Kahmunrah. The self-proclaimed “Pharaoh” had trapped his friends, sent some of history’s worst bad guys after him, and was an all-around evil bastard. Larry knew he would have to make a deal with the Pharaoh to save his friends, but he wouldn’t give him anything until he knew his friends were safe.

They stood in the centre of the room, arguing over who should hand over their half of the deal first.

Kahmunrah gave Larry an ultimatum, “How about I don't kill you right now, like I really, really want to, and I give you precisely five seconds to give me that tablet and tell me the combination?”

Kahmunrah’s newfound army entered the room at that moment, interrupting the two arguing men. In Al Capone’s hand was a little Einstein bobblehead.

“We already got the combination,” Al Capone exclaimed. “It's pi. –3.14159265.” He flicked the little Einstein, shushing him. “See, Crazy Hair here, he sang. Ho-ho-ho, did he sing! Like a canary.” He held the bobblehead up to Larry like he was showing off a prize.

“I’m sorry, Larry,” the Einstein frowned.

Sensing Larry’s distraction, Kahmunrah jerked the tablet from his arms. He threw the hourglass containing Jed, over his shoulder. “Must be a real bummer for you, Larry, knowing that all of your valiant efforts were, in the end, for naught.” He placed the tablet into his gate, beginning to press in the combination. “What a terrible disappointment you must be to yourself.”

The tablet began to glow, catching the attention of everyone in the room. Kahmunrah smirked as a quiet humming, filled the room.

“Do you hear that humming sound? Do you know what that sound is?” Ivan the Great raised his hand. “It's rhetorical.” He slowly put his hand back down as his fellow soldiers leered at him. “That is the sound of the End.” Kahmunrah began chanting in Egyptian.

As he continued chanting, the gate began to open. It started with the carved sarcophagus coming out of the stone. Then the door turned, revealing the gateway to the underworld. It was bright, and many of the people in the room found themselves shielding their eyes. The Egyptian chanting grew louder as it echoed from the open door.

“Welcome to the new, extended reign of Kahmunrah, Fifth King of Egypt and now the world! Horus, Ra, my warriors, come forth!” Egyptian warriors with bird heads emerged from the gate. “Send Larry Daley and his friends to their doom!” They surrounded Larry, attacking him as commanded.

“Halt,” a voice rang through the room, catching everyone’s attention. “The mighty Octavius has returned! I ride on the back of nature's most fearsome creature! I ride the squirrel! Forward now, my mighty steed!” He urged the squirrel forward, rushing through the feet of the soldier until he stood in front of Kahmunrah. He lifted his sword. “Do you wish to surrender honourably? Or must this end with the spilling of your blood?”

Kahmunrah turned his attention back to Larry. “This… This is your big rescue?”

Another voice rang out, catching everyone’s attention again. “Kahmunrah!”

His face fell when he saw who had interrupted him. He clenched his jaw. “You,” he pointed to a group of his underworld soldiers before gesturing to the people who had just entered, “change of plans. Kill her.”

Y/n stood at the entrance of the room, surrounded by some Egyptian soldiers and the group of New York Exhibits. Amelia Earhart had also arrived with several of the Smithsonian exhibits she and Larry had encountered that day.

Kahmunrah’s underworld soldiers approached the group, their spears aimed at Y/n.

“Stop,” she shouted, and the bird soldiers paused in shock. “I am Y/n, wife of Ahkmenrah, and Kahmunrah is no rightful king.” The birds turned to look at Kahmunrah, and everyone else, although they didn’t understand what was being said, followed their eye line. “He’s a cheat. He killed his brother, the chosen heir to the throne, just before he was to become Pharaoh. My husband, the rightful king, and my child, the future heir, are dead because of him. He is a traitor to Egypt. I ask you now, will you follow me—the once future queen of Egypt—or will you follow the traitor.”

The soldiers looked between the two Egyptian rulers. What she said had truth to it. Kahmunrah, although claiming to be the king of Egypt, had no Egyptian soldiers following him. Y/n had several Egyptian followers. After a minute of deliberation, they all came to the same conclusion. They turned their weapons to Kahmunrah.

Y/n smirked as Kahmunrah’s face morphed into fear. Larry slowly exited the circle that surrounded him and joined his friends.

Y/n stepped forward until she was face to face with Kahmunrah. “You should have known we’d never leave the tablet alone.”

“I was foolishly optimistic.”

Y/n turned to the underworld soldiers. “Your rest should never have been interrupted. Thank you for your service to the crown. You may return to the afterworld, but take this traitor with you.”

“You can’t do this, Y/n,” Kahmunrah snarled as he felt the soldiers grip his arm and pull him towards the gate. “I am a king.”

“You are a traitor, and you’ll find that although Egypt’s soldiers will never harm royalty, traitors are free game.” Y/n watched as the soldiers began dragging him to the gate and disappearing into the underworld. “They’ll do as they’re told.”

When the gate door finally closed, she grabbed the tablet and tucked it under her arm. She turned to the men that had been following Kahmunrah. In perfect English, she said, “Kahmunrah was a traitor to his own people. I suggest next time you chose a leader with more wisdom.” She smiled. “Now, I hope you will all return to whence you came in an orderly manner. I would hate to disturb the underworld a second time; they might be angry.”

The men looked at each other before quickly leaving the room.

The room was silent. Y/n looked around the room, accessing the damage her brother-by-marriage had done to the beautiful space.

Larry was in shock. He was glad she had shown up, but he had no idea who she was or what she wanted. For all he knew, she could be worse than Kahmunrah. He had heard Ahkmenrah’s name come up in the conversation between the Egyptians, but he had no idea what the context was.

The Egyptian soldiers that stood in front of the New York group went to the woman as she called them. Larry took the opportunity to talk with his friends without possibly causing them more harm by disrespecting any of the Egyptians.

“What just happened?” His eyes stayed focused on the group across the way as the woman gave them instructions, pointing to different places in the room.

“That there is Queen Y/n,” Amelia stated. “Quite the powerful lady, I’m not sure we’d have won this without her.”

“Why’d she help us?” Jedediah asked as he climbed out of the hourglass.

Y/n finished instructing her soldiers and made her way towards the group.

“She’s Ahkmenrah’s wife,” Sacagewea whispered.

Several of the exhibits bowed their head when Y/n came to stand in front of them.

“There’s no need for that,” Y/n dismissed. She smiled as she turned her attention to Larry. “Thank you for trying to keep this safe.” She gestures to the tablet in her arms.

“It was no problem, your highness.”

“Please, my name is Y/n.” Larry smiled an apology. “I must ask, though, it seems as if you have experience with the tablet. How have you come to possess it?”

Larry shrugged. “I’ve never really possessed it. It belongs to Ahkmenrah; I’ve just been trying to help protect it.”

Y/n’s eyes widened. “Ahkmenrah?” She quickly scanned the crowd. “Is he here?”

“He’s in New York,” Jedediah said.

“I see,” Y/n said, her face falling slightly. “Then we must go there immediately.”

Larry frowned. It would be costly enough to pay for all the exhibits to return to New York. He didn’t know how much it would cost to add a mummy onto it. He thought back to his journey through the museum. He hadn’t spotted her all night. In fact, all the Egyptian exhibits that he had encountered were in the basement. Perhaps, the Smithsonian wouldn’t notice if a single mummy went missing.

They’d have to move quickly; the sun would be coming up in just a few hours. In less than ten minutes, Larry had guided all the exhibits into a plane, and they were headed back to New York.

Previous Part |

[brokutosan]

Title. How Do You Mend When You’re Worlds Apart? (We Carry On)

Pairing. Iwaizumi Hajime x Fem!Reader

Summary. In which long distance is hard. Inspired by the song ‘Make It Better’ by Anderson Paak.

Warnings. Pure angst, also doesn’t have much dialogue. Manga spoilers up to the latest chapters and strong language included. Title is a line from the song ‘Make It Better’ by Anderson Paak.

In highschool, Iwaizumi and Y/N were inseparable. Wherever one is, chances are the other is nearby. They were the perfect model couple, proof that highschool sweethearts aren’t always doomed to be just that. Maybe it’s because both were equally mature, or maybe it’s because of the fact that the two of them kept Oikawa on a leash, but anything the world threw at them, the two felt ready for it.

So when Iwaizumi decided to purue his dreams across the ocean, she was fine with it. And so were all of their friends. If anyone could handle long distance, it would be Iwaizumi and Y/N. Because they were Iwaizumi and Y/N, and Iwaizumi and Y/N were inseparable.

Turns out putting an entire ocean between an inseparable couple could, in fact, separate them. Iwaizumi and Y/N became Iwaizumi, student at UC Irvine, and Y/N, student at Tokyo University. The distance between them grew harder to ignore over time.

It wasn’t something that happened overnight. And to be fair, they lasted a good three years making it work before going down the hell hole of late night (or morning, for one of them) arguments and distrust clouding their judgements. After a while, the two realize that the distance has taken its toll on them. Y/N thinks that it’s because they’re too used to being around each other, but now that they’re not, they’ve become more sensitive to even the tiniest matters. Iwaizumi thinks it’s all just bad communication.

Either way, anyone could tell that they’re only uselessly holding onto something that’s very clearly broken. Perhaps it’s the fact that they’ve already put in over six years into their relationship, and that giving it up now would mean giving up those six long years together. And no one wants to be the one that says, “Yeah, I wasted six long years with an idiot only for it to all go down the drain.”

Y/N first realizes this was the case after a night of drinking with her college classmates. She definitely had too much alcohol in her system that night, but she’s always been the type to be hyper aware of her surroundings. She wasn’t the type to do something she knows she would regret the morning after.

Her first explosive fight with Iwaizumi happens a few hours after she drunk herself under the table, at around three in the morning (or dinner time for Iwaizumi). Y/N made sure to be responsible enough to get herself home safe, under her own sheets, but Iwaizumi thought different. Y/N spent the following hours until her first class to explain to her enraged boyfriend that no, that woman in the background of Takahiro’s snapchat story sucking some douchebag’s face off isn’t me!

The months that follow that catalystic event were spent like they were walking through a minefield, any small argument setting off a bigger one that usually ended in tears. At one point Y/N was nearly tempted to throw her phone out the window and completely cut off connections with Iwaizumi, but knowing him, he’d probably catch the first flight back home just to chew her ear off.

What seems to be the worst fact of it all is that they were never like that in the beginning. But at this point there’s no more going back. It’s like they’re stuck in a burning car, but they don’t want to jump out. They’re only options are to just try and put out the flames or wait for the car to crash and burn.

Today is no different.

Y/N is invited by her old highschool friends, Matsukawa and Hanamaki, to go out for drinks. Y/N complies because no one would refuse a free dinner and drinks. But as she steps out her apartment, dressed casually enough but still putting in a little effort in her appearance, Y/N receives a facetime call from none other than Iwaizumi himself, who looks more pissed off than usual.

“What’s wrong?” Y/N asks as she notices his frown, genuinely concerned.

“Are you going somewhere?” Iwaizumi evades the question. Oh well. She expected this. Y/N has known her boyfriend long enough to know that there really is something wrong, he’s just too pissy to admit it.

“Yeah. With Takahiro and Issei.” She replies curtly, grabbing her purse and house keys from the side table and unlocking the door. Iwaizumi freezes, not saying anything. Y/N almosts hangs up thinking it’s due to poor connection, until he speaks up again.

“Oh. Nevermind then.” What the fuck? Y/N thinks to herself, though has half the mind to know not to say it out loud. Instead she says, “If there’s something bothering you, just tell me. Hiro and Issei can wait.” Her offer is met by another few seconds of silence, before Iwaizumi sighs and says, “No, it’s fine. Have fun. Stay safe.” The - once usual - ‘I love you’ is lost somewhere, probably amidst his pride and whatever the fuck was bothering him.

As he ends the call, Y/N decides to press any further. Lately she’s realized that the best way to prevent arguments with him was to just ignore the things bothering her. Destructive? Definitely. But is it effective? One hundred percent. Y/N argues that it’s the lesser of two evils, and if one of those evils is a furious Iwaizumi, then she’d rather take her chances with whatever’s the other option.

The whole commute to the izakaya she agreed to meet her friends in is filled with a mental dilemma of whether or not she should call him back. And she stays that way ‘til she gets to the place and Matsukawa, the attentive bastard, is asking her, “Why do you look like shit?”

“Damn, you really hate the thought of seeing us that much?” Hanamaki adds on, because Hanamaki and Matsukawa come in pair and when one is teasing you, then chances are the other one is too.

“Kinda regretting it now. Is it too late to turn back?” Y/N jokes, but is only ushered over by her two smirking friends. Y/N, despite her contempt, complies and sits down on one end of the booth.

“You can’t run away from us. Like you physically can’t. You love us too much.” And she hates how much she knows he’s right, but she’s not telling them that because they’ll never let her live it down.

“Disgusting. Someone kill me right now.” Y/N fake gags, smiling at the waiter as he passes by with a weird look on his face. Hanamaki and Matsukawa laugh, before Hanamaki’s face straightens into a serious look.

“Oh yeah, did Iwaizumi tell ‘ya yet?” He mentions nonchalantly. Y/N wants to say, ‘no, because talking to that moron only makes my head hurt,’ but she doesn’t, mostly because they’d probably obsessively worry over it. Instead she says, “Tell me what?”

They share a look.

“Wait, seriously? I thought you’d be the first to know.” It’s Matsukawa that speaks up first, with a bewildered look on his face. “I mean no offense but aren’t you two usually the lovey dovey jackasses that can’t keep secrets from each other?”

“Yeah. I’m still not over you telling him about my Hatsune Miku shrine.” Hanamaki adds, though it’s unappreciated by Matsukawa, who throws him a dirty look and a, “What the fuck, man. Stop bringing that shit up.” Hanamaki looks at his friend with ‘hurt’ laced in his face before firing back, “Stop disrespecting my wife, asshole!”

“Are you two done?”

The two supposed grown men halt their little ‘back-and-forth,’ and Hanamaki perks up again remembering the previous topic at hand.

“Oh yeah! So Iwaizumi really didn’t tell you?” She could only shake her head ‘no,’ taking a sip of the mediocre beer in her hands. She makes a mental note to remind herself never to let Hanamaki pick which izakaya they’re going to.

“You’re both pissing me off, what did he not tell me?” Y/N grumbles, growing impatient. It could just be because the beer is far too stale for her taste. Why is this place still open?

“Apparently Oikawa went to visit him two days ago and the two idiots had a big fight. I heard it almost got physical this time.” So that’s wny he looked so pissed off earlier. Lately the only facial features he’s shown her are anger and discontent, so maybe she thought nothing of it when he did it again just an hour ago. She feels horrible, but not too much.

“Something about Oikawa not taking his bad knee seriously enough. Honestly I think Iwaizumi got mad because he’s been studying about it for three years now.” Hanamaki adds, raising his glass to ask for another cup of beer. Y/N doesn’t care as much anymore about the shitty beer, but she still gives him a weird look for being so into it.

“Oh.” Arguments be damned, Y/N still had to save face. If anyone were proud supporters of her and Iwaizumi’s relationship, it’s these two idiots arguing over a meme on Hanamaki’s phone right across the table. She racks her brain for any plausible excuse as to why she wasn’t made aware of something this big, but her mind drew a blank.

“It is kinda weird you weren’t the first to find out. Granted we had to find out from Oikawa, but if anything I was sure Iwaizumi would’ve already went crying to you.” Hanamaki muses. Oh no. Y/N knows that tone, and when Hanamaki, of all people, uses it...then she’s thoroughly fucked.

“Is there something you’re not telling us?” Matsukawa completes. Y/N tries not to laugh at the fact that they still try to complete each other’s sentences, despite the fact that they were just arguing about which Spongebob meme is better just a few seconds ago.

“Nothing, really. I haven’t really gotten the chance to check in on Hajime, with exams and all.” Y/N lies through her teeth. They were just arguing three days ago about something Y/N can’t even remember now.

“Uh huh, sure. Let me know when you pull your head out of your ass.” Hanamaki retorts. Y/N resists the urge to reach over the table and wipe that stupid smirk off his face.

“Shut up, blondie.”

“Uh, that’s strawberry blondie to you.”

“You’re both completely going off topic. Y/N, why didn’t Iwaizumi tell you anything?” Matsukawa leans over the table, wearing that unreadable facial expression he used to wear back in highschool, during a match, going up for a block. Y/N momentarily thinks how fortunate she is for not being one of those they’ve went against in highschool.

“Shouldn’t you be asking Hajime that?”

“We should, but he’s not here right now. You are. I mean you two were always like two halves of one whole, right?” Hanamaki presses on, forgetting all about their previous argument. She lets his words settle in. Two halves of one whole, huh? Suddenly Y/N is brought back to one of their most recent arguments. About their future together. Or lack of one.

Y/N looks down at her stale mug of beer, feeling hypnotized by the amber color that’s reflecting her face with a look of concern. Though she has no reason to be. Ever since getting into a relationship with Hajime, and faling into the same crowd, most conversations around her usually revolved around the topic of their relationship. It never bothered her before, so why is it bothering her now?

And it hits her. Not as a life changing revelation, but rather something she’s always known deep, deep, deep down.

That just like how she’s been needlessly obsessing over the horrible tasting beer, she’s been needlessly clinging onto something that’s not there anymore. Just like how despite this izakaya being their usual meeting place whenever they found the time to hang out, the beer tasted different today, of all days. Just like how now, Y/N finally snaps herself awake and completely understand that her and Iwaizumi, just aren’t in love anymore.

They tried, the past few months filled with arguments being a testament to how they fought tooth and nail to salvage what’s left of a bygone feeling.

Right. The argument. Three weeks ago, Iwaizumi had called her a few hours past midnight in Tokyo, excited to reveal that “Yes! I’m going to start my internship with Takashi Utsui right after graduation!” And instead of being excited for him too, Y/N picked a fight. That one was totally her fault, she admits. She pressed him on the importance of their relationship, on the importance of distance, and how the one between them is slowly eating them alive. Iwaizumi cut off communication with her for a week, before Y/N finally apologized only for them to be amidst another argument now, just two weeks later.

Y/N realizes she’s been quiet for too long, when the noise of the izakaya draws back in and she’s rudely brought back to her senses by an annoyed Matsukawa snapping his fingers in front of her face. “Are you okay?”

The question lets loose an abundance of emotions, some she can’t quite put a finger on, but she knows is bothering her. It’s been too long since someone checked in on her like that, so genuinely. So concerned. Oh god. Was she turning into a touch starved idiot like Oikawa?

“Uh, I - I don’t know.” Is her pathetic response. The two men in front of her share another look, before Hanamaki simply sighs, “We’ll drop it, sorry. You can talk when you’re ready.”

And as if a switch has been flipped, they fall into a smoother conversation, one about school and their social lives. How Hanamaki heard that Yahaba and Kyoutani went to New York together for God knows why, and how Kindaichi’s finally starting for his Division 2 team. Y/N, on the other hand, can’t seem to focus. Perhaps it’s the thing she was thinking about earlier. Okay. It’s definitely that.

Eagerly, Y/N shoots up and slings her bag over her shoulders, muttering, “Sorry, I have to go.”

“Pay for your drinks, cheapass!” Hanamaki half-jokingly calls out, also standing up. Matsukawa grabs his wrist, seemingly understanding something and leaving the strawberry blonde out of the loop.

“Don’t. I think this might just be serious.”

-

Upon stepping back into the comfort of her room, Y/N turns on her phone, fingers hovering just above the call button. She was so sure of it before, at the izakaya, but now that she’s had time to think, she doesn’t know what to say.

Wait - no, she’s breaking up with him. That’s for sure. She’s not exactly confident she could take another second being in ticking time bomb of a relationship, but how does she even begin the conversation? Iwaizumi was her first everything, and that might just include first break up. How do people even do this? She feels like she’s about to rip the guy’s heart out of his chest, and that’s not something she could live with.

Fuck it, Y/N thinks to herself as she presses the call button. Iwaizumi picks up after three rings, voice grumpy as ever. “Yeah?” Now Y/N feels like a bitch for doing this over a phone call. But it’s not like she could book a flight to California with the money she doesn’t exactly have, just to break up with her boyfriend of six years. So she improvises.

“Can you get on Skype?”

She hears rustling on the other end of the call, and the telltale sound of a zipper being unzipped. “Sure.”

A few moments later, she’s connected to the call, and now that she’s looking directly at Iwaizumi’s face through her laptop screen, does Y/N finally realize what she’s about to do. Before the guilt could even start to settle in, Iwaizumi opens his mouth and starts the conversation.

“I thought you were going out.” He states, face still scrunched up into that nasty scowl from earlier. Knowing the reason behind it, a fight with his best friend, Y/N isn’t as bothered by it. Okay maybe it’s bothering her. Dumping him while he’s down? She didn’t even know she was capable of something so heinous.

“I was out. I just got back home though.”

“Oh.” He looks like he wants to press further, but something’s holding him back. The same something that’s been causing him to lash out for the past few months. Y/N doesn’t miss the conflicted look on his face, nor does she miss the sigh that he lets out. Good. He’s just as exhausted as she is. Might make this a whole lot easier.

“Is there a reason why you wanted to call?” He offers an olive branch first, and Y/N happily accepts it. “Yeah, actually, there is.” She gulps, probably hard enough for him to hear, but her nerves are starting to get the best of her.

He stares at the camera, probably waiting for her to go on, then. Well, jokes on him. Y/N’s waiting too. Waiting for her to gather enough figurative balls to say what needs to be said.

“Um - okay, so,” Y/N starts, very lamely, “it’s about us.” Iwaizumi looks like he’s about to say something, but Y/N is quick to interject, “Wait! Let me just let it all out. Before I go completely crazy. And then you can talk. Yell. Curse, whatever you feel like doing after I say what I’m about to say.”

“I’m not gonna do any of that.”

“Okay. Good. Because I might cry if you do. And if I cry then I definitely won’t get to say what needs to be said.” Y/N is speaking out of her ass, that much she could tell. She could also tell he’s losing his patience, which she doesn’t totally blame him for.

“I think I know where this is going. You can say it.” Iwaizumi sounds a lot calmer, which is good, because Y/N doesn’t really know how she’d take it if he wasn’t. And then she looks down, fiddling with her fingers on her lap and the ring on her pinky finger that Iwaizumi gave to her before leaving for college.

And then Y/N decides to rip the bandage off, “I think we should break up.”

A sigh.

Not exactly her first choice of a reaction, but she’d take a sigh over a full blown confrontation any day. In fact, she’s probably a little too relieved that that was his first reaction. Means he’s thought about it too, and that she’s not the only one feeling guilty about all this.

“I’m sorry.” Y/N finds herself saying, still not daring to look up into the computer screen. She realizes how ironic it is that the calmest conversation they’ve had in months is when they’re about to break up.

“Don’t be. It’s both our faults.” He reassures her. And she finally looks up, catching her reflection on the webcam and how her eyes are slightly red and watery. (But so are his).

“Trust me I know,” Y/N finds the strength to force out a bitter laugh, and adds, “but I just...am. I’m sorry we couldn’t make it work. I really wanted it to work.”

“So did I.” Iwaizumi offers a bittersweet smile, reminding her that this probably hurts for him just as much as it did for her. “But we couldn’t. And that’s on both of us. Don’t feel the need to take all the blame.”

“God, Oikawa’s gonna fucking lose it. He rooted for us so hard.” Y/N lets out a genuine laugh, remembering her chocolate haired friend that’s probably going to cry harder than they do combined. And then silence engulfs them. Conversation that used to flow so smoothly between them long gone, and the connection they had as lovers severed.

“Um, I’ll catch up with you soon. Take it easy okay?” Iwaizumi finally speaks up, probably sick of the silence. “Yeah, sure. Talk to you soon.” Except she doesn’t. In fact, the next time Y/N hears from Iwaizumi is at his welcome home party, two years later. And by then they’ve both probably moved on (she can’t really speak for Iwaizumi), to bigger and better things, and hopefully to other people.

-

“And it’s easier to walk away, than to look for what would make you stay.” - Anderson Paak.

A/N. Reposted because I wanted to edit it a bit. An izakaya is basically a traditional Japanese bar! Ending is a bit rushed, but I kinda just wanted to finish it on a slightly bittersweet note?? Thank you for reading tho, I’m gonna go cry now :) - chuu

[alwaysahiccupandastrid]

As a drama/performance student who’s hoping to go into acting, let me just say right now that Rachel Berry would never have made it on Broadway.

Oh, she has talent and there’s no denying that. But so do so many other girls and boys. You can’t make it in the business based on talent alone - you don’t get to become a success immediately, you have to work your way up and prove that you’re right for a role or for success. You have to work hard and always remember to keep learning.

That was something that was taught to us very early on in drama - no matter who you are or where you come from, whether you’re an amateur student or a success movie star, you can ALWAYS learn. You should always be challenging yourself and learning. You should always strive to improve and better yourself whenever possible.

Rachel never seemed to want to do that. She got into NYADA (after stalking the dean, which is something else I’ll go into in a minute) and then quit before finishing her education to do Funny Girl - which she then quit to do a TV show that failed. First of all, a casting director is going to take one look at this behavior and immediately decide “no - she cannot commit”. You don’t abandon your studies or the role you do have just because something that’s only maybe better comes along. Obviously many great actors do TV shows and pilots that fail, that’s not my issue - my issue with Rachel is that she never put the work in. It was always the bare minimum. “Oh, I’ve done a year and a half of studying at the best arts academy in NY, I don’t need to study anymore because I got one part on stage” - it does NOT work like that. She couldn’t commit which is a risky behavior in ANY job.

Part of being an actor or performer is criticism - you are ALWAYS subject to criticism. You will NEVER make it in the business if you can’t handle that criticism. Rachel would throw bitch fits and sob and play the victim EVERY SINGLE TIME someone made the slightest criticism of her.

Let’s delve deeper - first, Cassandra July.

Yes, Miss July was a bit mean and rude - but she’s a professor at a top NY arts academy. If you get into a top arts academy like NYADA is in the show, you are not there to fuck around - anyone who gets in has to be committed 100% to their studies, both practical and theoretical. Cassandra July is not there to baby the students and lift their egos - she is there to train and prepare them for the harsh reality of seeking a career in the arts.

In the very first episode of S4, on her first day in class, Rachel shows blatant disrespect to a professor by rolling her eyes. You do not do that to a professor in any subject, let alone a dance teacher. If you can’t respect your teachers or the people who you are learning from, you should not seek a career in the arts. This also goes for ANYONE you work with; if you work with a director or actor on a play or on a TV show, for example, you should always seek to learn from them, even if it’s something small. 

If you are studying the arts, especially at a level where they’re preparing you to be professional actors/singers/dancers, they HAVE to be hard on you. Hell, I didn’t even go to drama school but my drama teachers were always brutally honest with me. They made it clear that “Megan, you HAVE to be louder”, “you MUST learn your lines and practice without a script”, “your accents are terrible”, “don’t just stand there and recite lines! Move!” Etc. Etc. It may be harsh but Cassandra has to be brutally honest so that the kids know what they’re in for; yeah, they’ll get told that their noses are too big for a part. Yeah, they’ll be told “you need to drop a few pounds” or that they’re ugly, etc. It’s sad but true.

“Your pique turns are sloppy” - she’s literally pointing out to Rachel something to improve on. Sure, it’s not the nicest way but no one should be at a performing arts school and expecting nice.

Rachel’s disrespect of a teacher/professional continued for the whole time Cassandra July was on the show. She called her teacher out, was extremely rude and said “you’re jealous because we all have careers and yours is over”, so on so forth. I’m pretty sure if you were actually attending a drama school or performing arts academy, and you had the nerve to turn around and say that, you would be expelled and tossed on your ass before you could utter another word.

If a teacher says “I don’t think you’re ready to do the tango/for this part”, you should listen. They’ve been in the business for a LONG time, far longer than you have, and with loads more experience. The best you can do is listen and decide to study harder and better yourself. Rachel flatout ignored this advice and went ahead anyway because she wanted to be the Star NOW, no hard work or struggle or patience to be seen.

Let’s just say this; you don’t go to the dean of the uni/college and call one of the professors “a lunatic”.

Now Carmen Tibideaux:

For a start, Rachel choked her audition - it’s bizarre and ridiculous that she got in. She didn’t get in on her audition, but because she stalked and harassed Carmen until the dean gave in and came to watch her. In real life, if you fuck that audition up, that is it. You don’t get another chance until the following year when you apply again (and yes, it’s common to apply for drama schools multiple times until you get in - some people who go on to be successful actors have been known to audition as many as SEVEN times).

Realistically, Tibideaux should have not given Rachel that chance because she didn’t deserve it. No other candidate got that chance - in real life, no matter how talented an auditionee is, NO ONE is given more of a chance than anyone else. Everyone is judged on their audition, that’s it. Rachel may be talented but there are many others just as talented and even MORE so than her.

Also, Tibideaux could have in fact had a restraining order against Rachel. This crazy little girl turns up again and again like a complete twat, begging and pleading and just not understanding that she had her chance, she can have another chance NEXT year. I’d have seriously filed some kind of motion against Rachel, as I’m sure any other teacher or head would.

Despite the fact that Tibideaux gave Rachel chance after chance, Rachel was still rude and frankly ungrateful. Tibideaux makes valid points that Rachel is underperforming in EVERY single class. She’s not making an effort to be a part of the NYADA community.

If the dean of your college says that, you do NOT argue back. You do NOT attempt to say “I’m doing great, I’ve handled everything this school has thrown at me”. Rachel’s delusions of herself and her talent are laughable.

I could have applauded Carmen Tibideaux for turning around and telling Rachel how it is: “You are not the first supernova to come through here. You are talented, you have drive. What you don’t have, is you have no foundation. You don’t listen, and you don’t take direction. That’s why you need NYADA. You’re not ready.”

You can’t just expect to be fresh out of school or college and getting the fucking lead in hit Broadway shows. You start as ensemble, you learn, you work your way up. Rachel was too selfish and full of herself to do that. Also, the fact that she cannot listen to criticism or take direction screams that a director would NEVER hire her. She can’t take direction, and that will get her nowhere in her career. You have to listen, you have to collaborate and listen to everyone’s ideas as well as contributing your own.

The actual fucking nerve of a Rachel Berry saying “you’re wrong and I’m gonna prove it to you” - she would be out on her ass and never hired again, never accepted into an arts academy again. If someone older, wiser and more experienced tells you something, you LISTEN.

As an actor myself, we don’t do all of this hard work to be famous (at least, not those of us who actually love our work) - we go through student debt, years of no sleep, years of constant rehearsals, of being in the background waiting for our turn, of learning and honing and crafting our skills so that we can maybe one day do the thing we love most professionally. We actors/dancers/singers/performers are storytellers - we try to craft something meaningful or to tell a story we feel needs telling.

Carmen said something very true and on point: “do you care about the work or is it just about the spotlight?” Rachel never cared about the work - she never cared about being a storyteller or creating art. To her, it was all about the fame and attention.

Some other things:

After quitting, especially in the way she did, Rachel would definitely not be allowed to continue her studies where she left them at NYADA, if at all. At best, she would audition and get in the following academic year, and have to start from the bottom again. Most likely, however, she would not be allowed to study there again.

People in the industry talk. If Rachel was hard to work with when with even a few people, it would seriously damage her chances of being hired again. They would immediately throw away her resumé.

Even her choked audition was fucking irritating as a performer - if you screw up your lines or forget them or whatever, you don’t stop and ask to go again. You carry on. If you’re on Broadway and you get the words wrong, you cannot ask to start the song again in front of the entire audience. It’s extremely unprofessional. At school, when I did my guitar exams, that was KEY - “if you play the wrong note, do NOT go back and redo it - just keep going. You’ll get more points for carrying on than for doubling back”.

^So Rachel stopping and starting is immediately a no-no. At best, they would let her restart just once - but they would not let her have another chance. Even if she was given another chance and she aced it, the damage is done - she wouldn’t have gotten in.

Kurt aced his audition, didn’t mess up or stop, and didn’t harass the dean of NYADA to make sure he got in - Rachel messed up, stopped, harassed Carmen and was a brat. How the Hell did Rachel get into NYADA but not Kurt?? If Kurt didn’t get in, then Rachel DEFINITELY shouldn’t have, end of story.

In short, Rachel is the worst character and it actually pisses me off how inaccurately she’s written in regards to being at a performing arts academy/her success on Broadway. The writers wanted us to root for her so desperately but I would just skip the majority of scenes she was the focus of because she irritated me that much. If the writers wanted to make us root for her, they should have SHOWN her accepting that she had to start in the background and work her way up. They should have at least not let her get into NYADA.

[s-nayak-93]

This petition has put the Actors of GoT in a spot, unfairly

The actors can neither alienate their fans or invalidate their feelings by speaking out against the Petition,

nor can they risk losing potential future projects, now that they've made peace with this series and the way their character arcs were rounded off, by standing against powerful White men of HBO and D & D.

Imagine how badly this reflects on the actors and the crew members (pre-production, post-production) and marketing teams and others and even Bryan Cogman when there's a partition against an entire effin series and not just D & D (the Rich, White men who, a year ago would've launched a show on "Confederates" of all things, if it weren't for unanimous protest online against this show. There ARE other ways to protest/ petition - hit them where it hurt the most - their next projects).

Not every actor is K-H, who would say "fu*k you" to the viewers yet have an assurance of several projects lining up outside their doors.

They're far more attached to these characters than we are! Their interest goes beyond 'stan-ing' a certain character out of the entire series, or shipping wars. They've put hours and years into their characters. They turned up on shooting days, fighting through their illness and mental health. They've lived with these characters, internalising their emotions and psychological aspects, putting those on screen in a manner that is relatable to audience (& often they didn't have much subtext on their scripts - when written by D & D to work with - read that interview by Iain Glen). They're far more protective of their characters than we are!

We see the finished product of months of hard work of cast and crew! And Bryan Cogman!

And this Petition is such a disrespect, a fuck-you in their face when they fought for you!

And think for a moment what these actors have been put through:

Lena Heady: she struggled with Anxiety and Depression, as far as I know, yet gave her 100% to the series 8, even though she hated how her character was rounded off. She had "long conversations" (read arguments) with the Writers - D & D- about several aspects of her storyline this season. Both Nikolaj and Pilou had to convince her to go along with it when she especially hated the physical relationship that was portrayed between her and E. Greyjoy.

Emilia : she had to fight through illness, TWICE, in the last ten years, yet remained dedicated to her character. I loathe the White Saviour trope they used to justify certain plotlines, but as an actor she gave it her best. She's reportedly stated that she walked around London, numb, for hours after she finished reading the last two ep scripts.

Nikolaj : This guy, the Captain of our Braimie ship, has been arguing over several plot points that his character undertook, since season 4! For years! Time and time again. Has been gone on record stating it in several interviews, each time getting a suggest 'we don't care, f*** you, just say the lines and so-d off* from D & D, yet gave it his all. You can't fault him in any scene where he didn't act his heart out!

Gwendoline: she's always drawn the short end of the deal in the acting industry. Her talent, her acting prowess is overlooked. She's recruited mainly and perhaps only when her physicality matches a certain character in the show. She's waited years for a role like this where she could own scenes and be recognized for her acting talent. When she read the scripts of episode 4 and the rest, she was so disheartened that she take a walk before she could find it in herself to make sense of the arc. And her character was the one that was mercilessly cast aside, torn apart. Imagine how she must have felt! Yet she's a pro, you know. Showed up and acted the hell out of her scenes!

Conleth : He's a superb actor and he was so disheartened by the way in which his character was concluded, he goes in record saying that he took it extremely personally. Yet his last scene was moving. He didn't let his audience down in the acting department!

And so on and so forth! So many actors, who have lived with these characters for a decade now, fighting through emotional, physical and psychological issues to give their best in every bloody scene, had to do night shoots upon night shoots in those War scenes, flying off from one space to another, etc,

and these "stans" put them in a tight spot disregarding and disrespecting all their hardwork for years on end!

Don't even get me started on the years of hardworking of pre production, post production crew members and digital/CGI and marketing teams!

Don't mock their toil and blood because your one character wasn't fleshed out when every character was shitted upon by D & D.

There are other ways of shaming the Writers - D & D. See what viewers did to cancel the Racist show on Confederates these guys about to pull off. Don't bring actors and crew into this crossfire.

A remake, by default, would include rest of the cast and crew members. The very ones who had no say in this shitty writing yet had to give their best with whatever material was given to them. And they did, above and beyond that.

Even if you throw in some lines about how much you praise their efforts, such a petition invariably brings them into the ambit of the criticism and the demands of remake that the Petition aims at.

This petition has made a mockery of so many people's efforts while it gave a perfect excuse to D & D (who are now seen as 'victims' hounded by whiny fans) to hide their failures behind.

[arlandvery]

Alabastor Stones (Come and Lay Your Bones) Chapter 3

Long chapter because goddammit I worked hard on it. Anyhow, as always special thanks to @veninos-posion for listening to my ideas and giving me feedback. There’s NSFW and child abuse in this chapter though, so heads up on that.

Ao3 Link

Tomura had trouble sleeping. It had been a recurring problem since he’d matured and been moved away from Mother. When sleep eluded him, he either worked until dawn in his lab or woke one of his teachers and demanded lessons well into the morning.

He was the heir apparent; only Sensei’s word was higher, and so whenever Tomura said “jump” everyone whimpered “how high”. It was nearly unimaginable, he admitted. He was a necromancer from a burned out village that had meant nothing- the chances of him here…well, he didn’t know if he could have done the math on that probability.

Sensei insisted that his heir be able to fight with everything. Though Tomura preferred his magic, he’d had an education with all weaponry and at least a decent proficiency with them. Archery was his least favorite, but knives? Give Tomura a knife and it was like he’d been born with one instead of hands.

But the point was, Tomura couldn’t sleep. He felt achy and frustrated and he felt heavy. So he ignored the voice in his head suggesting this was a bad idea and went to wake his tutor. He was fine, he didn’t need sleep.

When they entered the training hall though Tomura frowned at the sight of Sensei and Kurogiri.

Kurogiri was looking through some papers and bowed his head to Tomura in greeting. From anyone else it was a blatant show of disrespect, but Kurogiri was different. Kurogiri had been one of his first teachers- and his most trusted. He was capable and clever and loyal to Sensei. Dressed in clothes so black they seemed to suck in the light from the training hall around him, the man was terrifying.

Sensei himself stopped his warm ups and smiled at Tomura’s bow.

“Tomura, trouble sleeping again?”

“Yes. I thought I should do something with my time and came here, though.”

“Good, that’s good. I had some trouble sleeping this evening as well. Would you care to spar with me, Tomura?” His smile might have been friendly, but Tomura knew the truth.

This wasn’t a spar, this was a lesson.

“I would be honored, Sesei.” He admitted with some truth.

“Wonderful- just fists then, my boy.”

He needed to see how he measured up against his mentor, needed to prove that he was getting stronger.

(He was worthy of this, of all of it: his position, his education, his training-

“Breathe Tenko.”)

Tomura stepped into the figurative ring barehanded, getting into the proper stance.

“Do your best, Tomura.” Sensei urged.

Because your best isn’t enough.

Tomura became slowly more aware of the way that Azami treated Mother. Tomura was untouchable, but Mother wasn’t.

On top of her own chores and trying to care for him, Mother also had her own lessons to deal with. Tomura tried to watch her whenever he could, because he’d never have imagined how much work went into being a concubine.

Daily she was taught how to walk, to carry herself, how to pour tea, how to prepare it. She was taught music and instruments- small, delicate harps and flutes and things with strings that sounded so lovely, how to do her own makeup, how to arrange flowers.

She brought those lessons back to their little room. Mother taught him her music, repeating her lessons so that he could play too, or else playing softly to help him sleep. While Tomura read to her she practiced her dancing, keeping time with the rhythm of his words- it was through this that Tomura discovered the power of rhythm in poetry. They spent hours matching poems to dances that she was learning. Mother was older but she was still a child, and children snatched joy where they could find it.

There were other lessons, but those were secret, and Tomura had to swear not to watch those or he’d have to swallow needles. She came bake pale or red in the face, and often, if she had no more work to do would just curl up on her cot in silence.

Tomura grew and so did Mother, but with her growth she began to lose some of the inner warmth she carried like a warm fireplace.

When Tomura was 7 he decided he wanted to help her in any way that he could.

Flowers were everywhere in the harem. Because most of them weren’t allowed out one the grounds (indeed, it was only Azami and his attendants who were given that privilege), Sensei made up for it with the fountain and the fish, and potted and cut flowers and bushes everywhere. Naturally some of these died, despite their care. And often Mother was the one to care the most.

It was nothing for Tomura to take some of the dead flowers and secret them away.

Tomura hadn’t used his powers since he’d been rescued. The tension beneath his skin, the ever present inner spring, had been silent since he’d come home, since Mother and Sensei. The few times that he’d reached for that power nothing had happened. He’d given up on it before.

But now he had to help Mother, and he could do this.

It took nearly a month of practice. It might have taken less time if he’d had the freedom to work on it constantly, rather than an hour or two here and there. He tried to keep in mind what his weapons instructor said.

“You have to train the muscle to get better.”

And if his magic was a muscle he just needed to practice.

It was still slow going though. He was still trying to reverse death.

He nearly gave up several times but remembering Mother’s tired face or empty smile when she held him made him keep going. Made him work harder. This attitude extended to what he was learning outside of his magic. His stubborn determination bled into his efforts to read, his fighting, his math- his teachers were fascinated.

Sensei was especially pleased too.

“I knew you were a bright boy,” he proclaimed, looking over his numbers himself. Tomura had glowed with pride. “You’re making me so proud.”

But nothing topped the feeling of success when the barest hint of color began to bloom in the petals again. And so he kept pushing. One by one the flowers returned, looking as fresh as if they’d just been picked.

He left them on her bed, and Mother had hugged him.

“Oh Tomura, they’re gorgeous!” She gushed, smiling, really smiling. He blushed when she petted his hair. “You didn’t steal them, did you?” Her touches paused, and she looked afraid. That wasn’t right.

“No, I fixed them, look!” He took one of the leftover roses and held it in his hands, squinting down at them and, for lack of a better word pushing.

Color began to come back, the flower began to unwilt.

Mother stared at the rose in awe and gently took it from him, then she took the flower from him.

“Tomura, I need you to listen to me. You cannot tell anyone about this, okay? It’s dangerous.”

“I know, Mother.” She didn’t know what he’d done, she wasn’t scared. Of course she wasn’t, why would she be? “I’ve never showed anyone else.” She kissed his forehead and sat him down on the bed.

“Good. How about I show you how to make a flower crown?”

Tenko was a good boy and held still as she braided the crown and wove it in his hair, telling him about her home, about the animals and the farm.

She never mentioned her name.

Sparring with Sensei was always hell, but it was necessary.

Tomura couldn’t be better, couldn’t beat him, but he didn’t take quite as many blows to the face, didn’t stay down as long as he used to. He could take it, he could keep getting up.

Before Sensei, Tenko remembered very little. It was for the best, there wasn’t much that he wanted to remember, but some things couldn’t be helped- or forgotten.

The screaming, searing agony, smoke- they hovered at the edges, interwoven with the shattered fragments of a little boy crying for his father while everyone argued what to do with him.

Killing him would be bad luck.

So was letting him live.

But killing him would be worse.

The argument went back and forth between the village elders while Tenko sobbed in his bindings, blood in his mouth and the last remnants of his father on his clothes. Eventually the village came to an agreement to let him live.

So into the dark he went, chained to a wall.

(It might have been kinder just to butcher him)

He didn’t know how long he was down there, broken down and alone. The ones who brought him dinner, if they brought it at all, didn’t dare talk to him, no matter how he begged and cried. He talked to the rats for awhile, but stopped when he woke up once to them eating him.

When the crops failed that year they beat him. When sickness swpt through they beat him more. They called him things; “cursed”, “demon”, “witch-boy”. They begged him and threatened him by turn, trying to stopper up whatever was wrong inside of him. But at night, or in the day, because it was always dark, Tenko was alone and hurting and scared, and something dark was inside him.

The day that they dragged little Tenko from his cellar prison into the heat of the noon soon he’d been blinded by the light. He followed the hands dragging him by his chain. He was so weak with hunger and lack of motion his legs hurt and trembled with effort just from walking.

The Village headman was the one to haul him out to the gate and shove him forward at the army that had surround them. Tenko whimpered in fear, blinking away the remnant of the blindness.

The man in the lead was the one to descend from his horse and approach them.

“You’d send a child to defend you?” He asked. His voice was deep, and he had wild dark hair and dark armor. He was a big man, with a big sword, but he wasn’t afraid. He seemed like he was trying not to laugh.

Something about the man put Tenko at ease.

“The child has magic- no doubt he could defend us from he likes of you!” Growled the Headman. Tenko frowned, and the man just made a disgusted noise. The Headman gripped Tenko’s shoulder painfully and leaned down to snarl in his ear to “do it, boy. Protect your people.” Tenko flinched at the tone and the foul smell of his breath.

“You don’t have to kill me, you know.” Interrupted the man, striding forward.

What did he have to fear from a bunch of farmers and old men and a child. The child looked up at him, unsure. “They did all this to you, didn’t they?” He asked Tenko kindly. Timidly, the boy nodded. The man tsked. “That’s not right. You should never hurt children like that.”

“Tenko!” Snarled the Headman.

“Tenko. Is that your name? It’s very nice.” His stomach growled and the man smiled a little more sadly this time. “If you come with me, Tenko, I’ll make sure you’re cared for.”

“Really?”

“Mmhm. No more chains. Food and a bed. You’ll be taken somewhere much better than this…”He sneered at the village, “pit.”

The man opened his arms.

Tenko ran to them.

The village burned and the man held him and let him hide his face.

“You did good Tomura,” Sensei praised mildly, watching as Tomura vomited the contents of his stomach. That kick to the stomach had been rough. The 4th one had been the one to break the camel’s back, so to speak.

So there he was, as worn out and run down as he had been when Sensei had first gotten in the ring with him. The world still spun, his bile was stomach churning and he could feel his heartbeat in his fingertips.

“Thank you…Sensei,” he huffed, trying to make everything level out, including his breathing. Shame burned in his bones and he hated it, so so much.

Sensei helped him up again, rubbing salt in the wound as he helped Tomura to the wall.

His arms were still strong, and they still made him relax instinctively.

Nausea roiled again and then he was on his knees, throwing up again and darkness shuttered over his consciousness again. Distantly he heard people shouting his name.

One day, Mother started acting strange.

She was always irritated, restless. She became a perfectionist. Tomura witness her visibly restraining herself from slapping Azami when the omega made a comment about Tomura putting on weight.

“He was half starved when he arrived.” She reminded with gritted teeth. Azami hit her and didn’t feed her dinner for her insolence. Tomura put some of his away to give her at bedtime, but the sight of the smuggled food made Mother start crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Tomura,” she whined, pulling him close.

“Mother?”

“I can’t do anything right- you shouldn’t have to take care of me!”

Her strange behavior continued- she stole Tomura’s clothes, stripped the bed and shifted it into the corned and reorganized everything, rolling around in it, keeping Tomura in it with her.

Azami was displeased with it, but didn’t make a comment other than telling her “don’t leave food in the nest, Fetch or we’ll have rats.”

One morning, when Tomura woke up to get ready, Mother pulled him back into the nest and held him there, growling in gentle reprimand when he tried to leave.

“Mother, we have to work,” he protested quietly.

But she said nothing, clinging to him and purring. She smelled so nice, it made it hard for Tomura to think of anything but the softness of the nest, the warmth of his Mother around him, the sweetness of her scent.

When a maid finally poked her head in to demand to know what they were doing, she froze at the sight of them and then shut the door. By then Mother was nuzzling into his neck, scenting him. It was such a foreign thing to him- he hadn’t been scented since he was a baby. It instantly made him stop thinking beyond the here and now, going lax and letting out baby purrs of his own.

At some point, Sensei was there, still smiling.

“This is interesting.” He remarked, taking a seat outside the nest. “I never would have expected you bringing him into your nest, Pet.”

“My pup.” Mother’s voice was rough and thick, squeezing him tighter.

“It’s not often that an omega will adopt a child not related. How did that come about- are you in enough of a mind to tell me that?”

“’s alone. Not ‘nymore.” Tomura whined and Mother crooned softly, moving to block him from sight. Sensei laughed and reached in to ruffle Mother’s hair.

“Considering the special circumstances, Pet, I’ll let you handle this on your own. Congratulations, little omega.” He pressed a kiss to her head and left the room.

Tomura woke up sore and sick, feeling spaced out and gross. There was a cloth on his head, damp- from sweat or water? He didn’t know. His throat hurt.

There was a soft hand on his.

Weakly he turned to look at Mother, swallowing thickly.

She was sleeping at his bedside. Her hair was mussed and she looked pale and exhausted, dressed down out of her fancy costumes and makeup.

She looked like Fetch again.

He didn’t know if he hated it or preferred it.

Carefully Tomura wrapped his fingers around hers, holding her hand in his. It was dwarfed by his large hands, still stained with the tools of his trade. His panic, his fear, was already dying again, just being near her and her scent.

It was silent in the sickroom. Of course it was the sickroom; leaving Mother alone with him in his den would have been the height of impropriety, people would talk.

Daringly though, his thumb brushed over her wrist, right over her scent gland. The warm vanilla smell got stronger and Tomura stifled a groan, not wanting to wake her. He resisted the urge to bring her wrist up so that he could kiss it or scent her. Sensei tolerated so much from him, but even that had a limit.

Mother’s smell changed after that. She’d always smelled good, but now she could have brought Tomura to his knees with it if she wanted. But Mother wasn’t like that.

There was a shift in the harem, Azami was called less and less to Sensei’s bed, and that made him nervous. He was getting older, he still hadn’t been bred, his position was slipping. He lashed out at everyone. Despite the new space in his bed, Sensei didn’t seem eager to fill it. The power vacuum made everything unstable.

It didn’t help that because Mother was an omega now, a real omega, not just Fetch, she wasn’t their lapdog anymore. It was one more thing that muddied the pond. Mother was still low on the totem pole, but she had a right to ask for things now, the right to meet Azami’s eyes and say “no” when Azami snapped at her to do something. This didn’t help, and often sent the omega into a tantrum.

One day during one of Azami’s fits he threw down his songbird’s cage. The poor thing died of shock and Mother cried for it.

Their little nest was filled with flowers already, what difference would a bird make?

It was harder to take the little corpse than it was to steal the flowers, but Tomura did it, shivering at the little feathered corpse tucked in his shirt.

His practice with the flowers paid off, but that didn’t make it any easier to breathe life back into it. It wasn’t like a plant, there was a soul, organs, stuff that had to be worked on that Tomura had never dared to work on before. Taking life was easy, returning it was nearly impossible. But he’d do it for Mother.

Tomura worked endlessly on it, ignoring his failures. He pushed power and magic into the little corpse, forcing it’s heart to beat, it’s lungs to breathe.

When it’s chest began to rise and fall again, Tomura smiled triumphantly, exhausted and worn.

That was how Mother found him, the songbird shining like a jewel, singing in their room, Tomura unconscious in their nest. She cleaned him up and named the bird Jewel, and thanked him when he woke up.

It was Jewel that gave them away.

Azami reported the bird’s song to the eunuchs, claiming that they had brought a wild one inside. When the Eunuchs found Jewel they brought them both before Sensei.

“Now what I don’t understand,” Sensei said calmly, sprawled on his throne, “is where the bird could have come from. Because I specifically remember giving this to Azami.” Jewel was perched on his finger, trilling happily. Azami himself was at Sensei’s feet, looking smug. “But it died- I remember receiving that report. And yet,” he mused, stroking Jewel’s head, “here it is, singing in the palm of my hand. How did this happen? Tomura?” He asked calmly.

Tomura shook with fear. He’d got them in trouble, Sensei would hate him, he’d not be allowed to live here anymore.

Mother’s hand squeezed his shoulder.

“It’s okay, tell the truth.” She whispered.

“A-Azami killed it and it made Mother sad. So I…I made it better for Mother.” Mother turned bright red, but Sensei looked interested. He took the bird carefully.

“You made it better?” He repeated.

“Master, please, the brat lies- that’s impossible-“

“Silence, Azami.” The slap that he gave the omega made Tomura flinch. Azami whimpered and became silent. Jewel made uncomfortable squeaking noises. “Now, you’re telling me that you brought a bird back to life. Is that right, Tomura?” Hesitantly he nodded.

With one smooth hand Sensei twisted Jewel’s neck and the bird fell silent. Tomura cried out, but Mother’s shaking hand kept him rooted.

“Come here, Tomura,” why was Sensei so calm? How could he do that?

On shaking legs Tomura stepped up to the throne. Sensei held out the broken little body, and Tomura took it, cradling it close. Jewel was still warm in his hands, and he struggled not to cry. Instead he looked at Sensei.

“Fix it.” Sensei said calmly, but his eyes were flat and piercing.

Tomura cupped Jewel carefully and closed his eyes. Inside he felt shaky and scared, but there wasn’t anything he could do but obey him.

It’s difficult to describe trying to pull and infuse life back into the dead. It took place in the part of his consciousness that Tomura felt more than expressed. With invisible fingers he shoved something intangible back into Jewel, forced it’s neck to correct itself, made it’s heart beat again purely by his own will.

Sensei began to laugh, even as Azami gaped.

“This was what your village meant by your magic, wasn’t it!” He declared happily, “you actually have magic! More than that, you, my boy, are a necromancer!” Sensei was absolutely delighted,  and stood up, knocking into Azami without a care as he strode forward. “Brilliant, brilliant boy! And to think that I didn’t even know! I just assumed that it was superstition!”

Hesitantly Tomura began to relax. Things were okay. He wasn’t in trouble.

“I…I was too scared to do anything, that day.” He admitted quietly. Looking down at Jewel. Sensei cupped his chin and tilted his head up.

“Well, you need never fear again, child, things will be different. A necromancer doesn’t belong in the harem, no, he belongs at my side. My heir.” He declared.

Mother’s hands flew to her mouth, even the eunuchs were shocked. Azami looked like he’d been informed of his own execution.

“But…but what about Mother?” He asked, before the man could continue. Sensei cocked his head and looked at her.

“Oh. You want to remain with your mother?”

“Yes. She makes me happy.”

“Well. I certainly couldn’t have my heir distressed. You are still a pup. Pups need their dams.”

Mother and he were moved to the suite meant for the Emperor’s favored omega- Azami’s rooms. The man had lost a war that only he’d fought.

And while Tomura got to remain with Mother, Mother was put directly in Sensei’s sights.

“Why didn’t you tell anyone you were sick?” Mother asked with a long suffering sigh later that day; Tomura had dozed off again and woke feeling a little better, to Mother awake working on some embroidery. There were fresh flowers at his bedside, and the smell made his nose twitch.

“Because I wasn’t sick yet.” His explanation came out as a weak croak. Mother just raised an eyebrow at him.

“Don’t lie to me, Tomura.” She scolded gently, tsking at him. Tomura frowned and watched her needle flick as she sewed, flashing silver like fish in the water. It was soothing.

“I’m sorry,” he admitted quietly. Her expression softened just a bit.

“Oh Tomura.”

The door opened and a woman entered, silencing the both of them. She was young, maybe younger than him, with dark hair in two buns on her head and a shy little smile. Something about her made Tomura watch her hands. He’d been in the sickroom plenty, but he’d never seen her before.

“Don’t mind me, I’m just changing out the linens,” she sing songed. Tomura frowned and looked back at Mother, but her expression was closed off again, her usual mask.

“I didn’t mean to worry you, I’m sorry.” He repeated quietly, taking her hand again. He watched how the woman’s eyes flicked to him and Mother, even as she didn’t pause or incline her head.

“I know. I just wish you wouldn’t push yourself so hard, dear.” She said, frowning at their joined hands.

She was so pretty, so kind.

“Sensei wanted to spar. I can’t deny him.” She nodded in understanding, but she still smelled distressed.

“He shouldn’t…push you so hard. You look like death warmed over…it’s not right, Tomura.” But it was right, it was Sensei’s right to do what he wanted until he was no longer on the throne.

“I need to be better.”

She shook her head,scowling.

“I’ll talk to him.” She promised. “I’ll try to make this better.”

“Mother don’t-”

“I’ll handle this dear. Now, I have a little time before I have to leave, don’t deny me time with you please.”

And he couldn’t do that either.

There wasn’t much point in staying in the sickroom once Mother was gone. He felt better, he had his medicine. So once she left him he left too, promising to take it easy until he was feeling better. It didn’t stop him from heading to his lab and immediately using the skull to watch her.

Visions of her swam across his eyes.

Mother in Sensei’s lap, red with arousal and pupils blown wide.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Pet,” he grunted, watching her raise herself up and drop back down. “Telling me how to raise my own heir, where do you get the right?” One hand buried in her hair, yanking, exposing her neck.

“Please- he-you hurt him-“

“He is my son. And you are my omega. You don’t have the right to tell me how to train him!” His teeth were dangerously close to her throat and she stilled in fear, chest rising and falling. No no no no no Sensei wouldn’t do that would he?

“You hurt him- he’s my son-“

“Because I allow it. Because it pleases him. Had he not wanted to keep you you would have been left in the harem’s gutters where you were- but you’re lucky Pet, lucky that he took a shine to you, and lucky that you’re halfway decent at being a mother.” She screamed as he twisted one nipple painfully.

“Please, please I-“

“Don’t presume your place. Do you understand?”

Helplessly she nodded.

Rage boiled deep inside him.

“Now, be a good Pet and finish me.”

Tomura felt like he had at 8 years old on the other side of the partition in their nest. When Sensei came to see Mother it was usually late at night, and because they slept together, Mother would have to wake him and send him to the little cot in the corner, a painted screen blocking them from view.

He’d lie awake and listen first to her soft crying and then soft moaning and the occasional gasp, to Sensei’s whispered words of affection.

He felt like an intruder and the keeper of a secret.

Now, taking himself in hand and touching himself to the vision of Mother riding Sensei and begging for release, for relief, as bruises bloomed on her pale skin like flowers.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

[theselfcaremaven]

Healthy Boundaries Please!

Good day, to you dear ones🥰

This is something I re-posted yesterday on FB under my #TheSelfCareMaven hashtag. You could actually google that hashtag and see some of my work👰🏻

***************************

Some things bare reviewing at a later date.

BOUNDARIES for HSP’s is always a good review (for me). Hope you find a pearl of wisdom.

🌺

Healthy Boundaries for Highly Sensitive People

An Excerpt From "Assertiveness for Earth Angels" here is a link for Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1401928803/hayhousecom-20

A boundary is your limit, which no one can overstep or violate. No matter who the other person is or how much you love him or her, your boundary is something that he or she is not allowed to breach.

For instance, I have boundaries in all of my relationships that dictate that you must treat me with respect. I, in turn, will treat you with respect. This is a nonnegotiable boundary for me, and if anyone violates this and is disrespectful toward me, I will try to clear the energy by discussing my feelings and boundaries, and then listening to the other person. If he or she continues to be disrespectful toward me, the relationship is over, without any guilt on my part. I still love the person, but because of the behavior overstepping my firm boundary, I no longer have contact with him or her. Boundaries are a necessary part of self-care, just like washing your hair or wearing shoes to protect your feet. They are healthy, normal, and necessary.

Every relationship has issues and negotiations about each person’s personal boundaries. So it’s not whether you have conflict, but how you deal with conflict that matters for a long-term relationship.

Personal boundaries include how much . . .

• . . . body space and distance from other people you need.

• . . . time alone you prefer.

• . . . affection and romance you need.

• . . . you need to hear words of affection.

• . . . you need your personal items to be left alone and untouched by others.

• . . . you require honesty, reliability, and sobriety within the relationship.

• . . . financial equality and fairness matter to you [. . . and so forth].

Part of being an assertive Earth Angel is learning how to have the strength and the courage to maintain your boundaries. It can get exhausting when it feels like other people are trying to step all over your boundaries. It might wear you down, and you start to think, Does this really matter? Well, it does!

Your inner self relies upon your outer self for caretaking. You might say that your inner self is like a little child you’re nurturing. That means that if it’s tired or needs to play, your outer self should honor this and not push your inner self beyond its limits.

Even though the other person may be disappointed or even angry when you say no, believe me when I tell you that he or she does understand. Remember that the other person is human, too, and knows what limitations are like. Even if your refusal comes as a disappointment, deep down he or she will respect you for it!

When you say no, you’re modeling healthy behavior for others. Part of the reason why they may react angrily toward you is because it’s never occurred to them that they could say no to unreasonable demands put upon their own time!

So when you do something that people haven’t seen you do previously—like saying no—they may be surprised. They may take your no personally, and it’s okay for you to briefly explain that this isn’t anything personal and has to do with you maintaining clear boundaries with respect to your schedule.

Don’t feel like you have to explain why you’re saying no, though. The more you explain why, the more leverage the other person has, which he or she can use to manipulate you into changing that no into a yes.

Boundaries mean that you teach people what you will and won’t accept in the relationship. They can be a lot of work, but that’s what it takes to build a healthy relationship with yourself and others.

Another important boundary is to respect your right to schedule your time. Don’t allow others to dictate your schedule to you. For instance, you have the right to not answer the phone or doorbell when it rings, and to not feel obligated to immediately answer emails or social media posts. If someone asks you to drop everything to drive them across town, you have the right to say no. It’s like the old adage: “A lack of planning on your part doesn’t constitute an emergency on my part.” We must overcome impulsive rescuing tendencies.

A lot of people use guilt to manipulate others into getting their way. They also include flattery mixed with guilt. So, as an example, they’ll say, “Only you can help me; and if you don’t help me, there will be horrible consequences for me.”

As a sensitive Earth Angel, you don’t want anyone to suffer, so you allow the other person’s words to manipulate and control you. Then you feel weak and used, as well as resentful and angry. Add to this the frustration that arises because you’ve backtracked on your promise to take excellent care of yourself . . . and you’ve got a heap of toxic energies inside your mind, emotions, and body.

It’s so important to remind yourself that every person has the same Source: God. Those who play with your emotions to get their way are creations of God, just like you and everyone else. You’re not their God, nor are you their Source. So, allow Source God to be the person’s caretaker. Pray for guidance about how you can truly help him or her gain strength and be self-sufficient.

Of course, there will be instances where you’re acting as an Earth Angel and bringing forth God’s help through your efforts. But those instances are clearly guided by love, not by guilt.

If you’re giving because of guilt, it’s not true or pure giving, as was discussed in the previous chapter. Your gift out of guilt is tainted with toxic energies.

Boundaries are a form of self-care. When you stand up for your boundaries, meaning that you don’t allow others to manipulate, guilt, or control you, your inner self applauds and thanks you.

Your self-esteem and confidence increase whenever you successfully stand up for yourself.

Now, by “stand up for yourself,” I don’t mean that you’re aggressively pronouncing judgments over others. Remember that assertiveness upholds everyone’s rights: yours and those of the other person involved. When you maintain your boundaries and say no with grace, love, and firmness, you teach people how to handle boundaries.

You’re not their Source; God is! If you make yourself their Source, then how will they ever learn to support themselves and grow?

When I was first teaching angel courses, I made time to sit down personally one-on-one with each student. During these individual sessions, I’d tune in to the student’s angels and answer all of the questions that he or she had. And then I’d go home and be ill and tired for two to three days after the workshop; I had allowed myself to become drained, under the misguided notion that I was the one to help and serve all these students.

After that, I realized that I wasn’t doing myself or them any favors by being so accessible. I realized that it was important for me to model good healthy boundaries to my students, many of whom were in training to become spiritual teachers themselves. I needed to teach each student how to access Divine guidance and answers for him- or herself, instead of needing to go through me or another person.

So, in my teaching I began emphasizing how to receive clear angel messages for yourself. I also created definite breaks in the schedule for the course, during which I wouldn’t allow anyone to ask me questions. When questioned during my break, I’d say: “Other people may want to hear the answer to this question, so let’s save it for when we’re all back together.” I’d also tell students that I was in a human body that needed rest and recharging.

I knew that by taking a break, I’d be a more effective and higher-energy teacher. I’d also be happier, which is a very important quality in a teacher. I’ve always told my students that it’s beneficial to take lots of different classes, as long as the teacher is a happy person. A happy teacher teaches other people how to be happy, both directly and by role-modeling happiness. And happiness is the most important thing anyone can teach!

In addition, when you exercise strong and healthy boundaries as a parent, you teach your children how to do the same. Don’t you want your children to grow up learning to respect themselves, their time, and their energy levels? Of course you do! Well, so too does God want this for you and everyone else!

Affirm often: “I think I can; therefore I can!”

Plenty of people come to me and argue in favor of their limitations. They forcefully tell me why they can’t enact the positive action steps that their angels are guiding them to take. They imply that they’re somehow special and are being blocked or thwarted from their dreams. Everyone else gets cut a break, but they’re very special victims in their own minds.

If they would put half the energy they expend arguing for what they can’t do toward arguing in favor of what they can do, then they would be well on their way to living their dream lives!

When you exercise your boundaries and learn to say no, you have more free time to devote to your passions and priorities, instead of feeling like you have to steal away moments to write that article, take that class, read that book, learn to play that musical instrument, start that new business, practice your healing skills . . . and so forth.

Boundaries give you a healthier and happier mind and a higher energy level, because you’re no longer fixated on the thought that people have taken advantage of you. When you feel resentful, you obsessively think about the other person’s mean behavior toward you. This type of thought pattern, if left unchecked, can lead to depression, anxiety, addictions, relationship issues, loneliness, fearfulness, and other toxic results.

Find "Assertiveness for Earth Angels" on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/exec/obidos/ASIN/1401928803/hayhousecom-20

Sent from my iPhone

[somedaypast-thesunset]

U know. I cry for the world. I really do. But I cannot allow it into my own space which is any space my body currently occupies because I am not trapped and can choose to remove myself. Like, he made me feel like I wasn't sympathetic because I wouldn't let ppl like this in my home. I am sympathetic, not stupid. I would give a percent of money given to me to give all these ppl places that accomidate them.

He literally runs upstairs as I'm quietly eating my food by myself and asks why I'm a bitch. I tell him that's not really fair to say and I'm not interested in talking to him. He says it is fair to say because I'm being a bitch. I told him he's been pretty disrespectful from the start and I'm not interested in having a conversation. He says I'm the one being disrespectful because I owed him 50$ and he let it go cuz my partner is letting him stay at his house. My blinders went on briefly - like my brain clicked at that moment and we were no longer associates of any kind. Was I required to kiss your ass and buy your beer because you let my 50$ debt go for stupid reason? Who the fuck are you? And fine - fine. Thank you for debt forgiveness. But the fact you think I still owe you something - even a nicety, which I've given numerous times, is a person I don't want to know. I'll give you what I owe and nothing more. Why would I allow a dynamic in a personal relationship like that?

I got dressed and told my partner I would see him tomorrow as our friend jumps back and forth from saying he'll go and asking me why we can't have a "civil conversation".i told him I did nothing, I waited for him to be finished cooking so I could eat and now I'm upstairs because I don't want to hang out and now I'm leaving because this is disrespectful.

Finally he leaves and I feel uneasy. I know I'm there for my partner but I know he has feelings about it either way now and I don't know what to do because I don't want to talk to this guy again. So I tell him and say if he has a problem I'll leave. He says he has no problem it's between us he didn't want to be brought into it and now hes being brought in. Im like wtf rly. I'm sitting here eating a man came in and yelled that I'm a bitch and you think I brought you into this? Cuz I was the mature person who removed myself from a conflict seeking person? Fuck offfff. I told him fine, I would just go then. He said he's not mad but fine he'll see me tomorrow. I told him I'm not mad I have anxiety and no outlet so im leaving.

I called another mutual on the way home hoping for weed and a smoke. As I was on the phone I get a message from the first friend telling me he's sorry he was beligirent and he understands my point of view but "Jsyk I was offended too".

Our mutual said fuck him. But this is not really our friend. I know our friend very well and I know there is no way he would believe any different from his original stance unless someone explained how he might be in the wrong perspective. He spent days believing I was holding an attitude with him when I literally gave no fucks. I was nice, I hung out, I made and bought food, shared my weed and he continually had a disrespectful attitude towards me in every conversation I had and I was just over it because Ive really tightened my circle to not include people like him. I don't need it, I didn't do anything and I'm not going to be shit on because I shared what little I had and this guy is fucking crazy. Also I guess I'm ghetto but if a friend is shit on by someone in front of u, u back them up. My partner should have guilt for not saying hey what kind of language is that for a civil convo. But it's fine too because I'll remember this.

I sort of expect that my partner did tho. I feel our friend probably tried to approach him about it after I left and told him he was in the wrong for yelling at me and because he said "I hope we will talk again" to me implies my partner told him I'm not talking to him again as he could've said.. Nothing. Or hope we will be friends again? Hang out? It's just a weird admission of guilt that comes from my partners moral high grounds. Like he would never apologize to such degrees but he will tell u this is exactly how you should do it but it's our friend saying "Jsyk I was offended too". He's offended because every other friend knows I don't answer phone calls. I answer for like.. The government, doctors, my one friend and my partner. Otherwise I do not. It's a joke in my circle because I always answer texts. I always answer dms. I stopped fb but it was the same. Emails. If u call I will never call u back. A friend knows this. It's my quirk. It's fun. If it's an emergency, I'll know. It never is. I'm a confidante to people. Like I'm not a psychiatrist I'm a living diary where these people expect me to sit and listen to their problems and give them a certain level of wisdom and care and interaction or I'm not a friend. You and chantel and taff and Tom and Aaron and Jared and kitty. I sit and watch people. They are not my friend but I'm theirs and they wonder why at some point I check out and don't care about this shit they're doing. My partner falls into this and is probablt the absolute worst I've had so I have no room to do this for others and I think now it's like chosen victimhood when I remain friends and partners too. Like I know this person - I KNOWWWWWW this person because my job was to listen to all their shit. Like if knowledge is power im queen cuz I know. So I know they're fucked. I know. I could write a book verified by them of how fucked they are. And that means at some point they will be fucked again. That's their character. I dunno if that's who the fuck they are but it's what they presented. And being so close puts me within their fucked shit. Whether directed at me or not. Sam. No ones in my shit. No ones following my life. No one listens to me everyday except a girl I barely know in real life but force myself on her and literally don't know if she likes me or feels sorry for me but she's gracious. And even then I don't share everything. She's certainly not invested. This friend expected an investment further into listening to him because he made me feel bad and always wanted a relationship with me and when I was with my partner he was not super cool about it. I empathized and sympathized and wanted him to do well in life but I'd never be with him. I could barely be his friend. I barely liked him as my drug dealer. But I felt man. He criticized how I lived even though I'm not homeless. He is. And I don't want a point in my life where I'm arguing with a homeless man because our government gives you money. You make choices and I made the choice to use the same money not to be homeless and you decided to hitchhike. Logic. You are who you surround yourself with and I'm not this and I can't be the confidante of this while having everything I do responded to with a sigh of disappointment. It's a huge reason why I never called back when it was obvious he didn't get it. Why.

I liked my partners "I'm not mad". Really. He said it under his breath then quickly said "fine whatever see you". It was one of the first few shows of like "but I wanted you!" that he's made outside of sex. Like showing disappointment meant he had to involve himself into easing my anxiety which was too complicated and too much effort for him. He needed me to get over it.

I'm glad I left. I didn't argue with anyone but expressed how I felt and thought and left. I'm not replying to his apology because I'm going to blindly assume he spoke to my partner and I'm happier he said anything to defend me than I care about this apology. It's an action he would take instead of apologizing. He did something to help my anxiety and that's so much better than nothing. He is really trying to be consistent and elevated in his investment. I mean, this whole thing is fucked. But like... Iget along with him. He's the male figure in my life my parents demanded I needed for disciplinary purposes. But he's like a drunk army sergeant. U respect but he's a little fucked and sometimes makes u do questionable shit. But in the process youre somehow built into a better person and ur like yeah the army (relationship) was pretty great shaped me as a person but my drill (his personality) got drunk sometimes, cried and when u said ur uncomfortable got angry and threatened a discharge.

He has control of me but gives me freedom to the nth degree.

[topicprinter]

This post was originally seen at http://ift.tt/2iAzazb customer service costs businesses $338 billion in revenue every year, globally. That’s the real cost of bad customer service.Even if that number is off by a few billion, the bottom line is this:Bad customer service will cost your business money. Lots of money. Period.Without amazing customer service, you’re going to fail in two ways…Your customers won’t recommend you to anyone.Your customers won’t come back.That’s why providing top-notch customer service (and avoiding bad customer service) is one of the most impactful things you can learn today for your business.In this post, I’m going to explain what bad customer service looks like, which metrics you can use to gauge your own service, how bad support is costing businesses money, and action steps you can take right now to avoid those pitfalls.Let’s get started.What is “Bad” Customer Service, Anyway? [Key Metrics]First things first: What is considered “bad” customer service? In fact, what’s “good” service? How can you gauge and measure that concept?Here are some customer support metrics to look at, with a few industry averages to help you gauge your own performance (if you’re hungering for more, the last section of this post gives action steps to improve these metrics):Disclaimer: While I give a few benchmarks for “good” and “bad” customer service key performance indicators (KPIs), what really matters is that you’re comparing your numbers to your own numbers. These metrics vary immensely across industries. Use them as a rough guide, but remember to focus on competing with yourself, rather than everyone else.Time to First ResponseHow long did it take you to initially respond to your customer’s question?“Bad” average first-response time: 24 hours for email, 1 hour for social and live chat.“Good” average first-response time: 8 hours for email, 30 minutes for social and live chat.First response times are important because your customer wants to feel that you know about their problem and are working to solve it.While 24 hours is what’s expected, beating that time is a requirement to stand out from the competition.After all, you want to exceed expectations, right?If your first response time is too high, consider setting a goal for a minimum first-response time. If you’re struggling to meet this goal, you may need to hire support staff.No. of Interactions to ResolutionHow many responses did it take until you solved the customer’s problem?Good & bad average no. of interactions: While the average varies a lot, the ideal number of interactions to strive for is simply one. You provide a single response that solves to closure. No back and forth and everyone is happy as a clam.If your average number of interactions is increasing (in comparison to your past numbers), that could be a sign that customer queries aren’t going to the right person (if you have multiple people on your staff) or that the customer has to give too much effort to get a response.If you have a high average, consider setting a goal to lower the number of replies to solve customer problems.This could entail:Providing more detailed answers.Getting support questions to the right people faster.Fixing common problems to eliminate inquiries entirely.A personal example from the Formilla support teamHere at Formilla, we make a habit of asking a few boilerplate questions to hone in on a problem up front, without piece-meal Q&A causing back and forth. We average 0.8 responses per ticket to resolution (it’s less than 1 because some tickets are just informational or test submissions that we just close).For example, if it’s a technical issue, our questions entail:When did the issue occur (date/time/timezone)? (This helps our support team research logs to find a problem, regardless if it’s the 1st rep or the 4th that needs the info.)What browser and operating system are you using?Has this issue occurred before or is this the first time?If it has been occurring for a while, when did it first happen?Can you provide the exact error you’re getting or a screenshot of the problem? (This helps us visualize the problem more quickly to provide a resolution.)Time to ResolutionHow long did it take to solve the customer’s problem?Good & bad average time to resolution: Again, averages vary depending on the business. I highly recommend looking at your own numbers to determine a “good” resolution time.A high time to resolution can signify you’re simply taking too long to solve your customer’s problems. However, it could also mean you’re putting a lot of effort into solving their problems, which can be a good thing as long as you’re not spending too much time and sacrificing other areas of your business.If you’re facing a high average time to resolution, consider setting a goal to be more efficient in your handling of customer queries.Efficiency doesn’t necessarily mean solving problems fast – it means looking at your process and determining where you’re underperforming, then either outsourcing those tasks or improving your process to make them easier. I’ll give some examples in the final section of this guide.Zappos is a classic example where time to resolution is less important:“At Zappos, we don’t hold reps accountable for call times. (Our longest phone call, from a customer who wanted the rep’s help while she looked at what seemed like thousands of pairs of shoes, lasted almost six hours.)”Customer satisfactionHow happy was the customer with your resolution?Good average customer satisfaction: 90% or higher rating service as “great” or “good”.Bad average customer satisfaction: 20% or higher rating service as “poor” or “horrible”.I would argue customer satisfaction is the single most important customer service metric for any business, hands down.It doesn’t matter if it takes you forever to solve a support ticket or if they take a lot of back and forth as long as your customers are happy! If they’re happy, it means they care about the other stuff and you did your job right.If you’re struggling with poor customer satisfaction ratings, I recommend looking at your business from a bird’s eye point of view:Is satisfaction low because the other metrics (response time, etc.) are too high? Or, is it something else entirely, like a lack of empathy from yourself or your staff?More on this in the “provide better service” section of this post.Now that you know where your business stands, let’s take a look at the repercussions of bad service, just to give you a little kick in the rear to take this seriously.We asked Richard Shapiro, founder of The Center For Client Retention, his thoughts on bad customer service. Here’s what he said:“Bad customer service can ruin every part of a business.By not providing your full attention or failing to get back to a customer in a reasonable amount of time, you are showing disrespect and communicating to the customer their business is not important.By telling the customer “no”, which also takes the form of “can’t, won’t”, etc., it destroys all customer loyalty. Telling the customer what you can do, not what you can’t do, works better. Letting the customer know you will check with a supervisor also shows them you’re trying to help them.Answering the customer with one-word responses instead of providing full explanations also conveys a feeling that spending your extra time is not worth it.The strongest loyalty is between two people. Therefore, it’s critical that when certain associates are much better at building relationships than others, you find a way to keep them onboard. When a good employee goes to your competitor, it’s a double-whammy. Always think of the lifetime value of a customer before you say ‘no’.”The Real Cost of Bad Customer ServiceWhere the heck is that $300 billion going?Let’s find out:Straight-up lost sales (online & offline)Have you ever tried to buy something from a company, and their poor service pissed you off so bad that you just up and left? I know I have.Lost sales are the first way bad customer service is shrinking the bottom line. People will just leave and go elsewhere.This is true for online businesses just as much as offline businesses. On average, roughly 80% of people will not complete a transaction due to poor customer service. That’s four out of five.Without great customer support, it’s going to be difficult (if not impossible) to charge a premium or change your pricing structure.John Goodman, a customer experience researcher, found that the more complaints a customer had, the more sensitive they became to price, price changes, and additional fees.What’s worse: According to John Goodman, roughly half of customer complaints (one-fourth for B2B customers) go unsaid. In other words, there are people complaining about you to everyone but you, and taking their business elsewhere. You need to listen to the people who are talking to you and ensure you fix the problem for them as well as anyone else who may have experienced it, but didn’t say anything.In other words, there are people complaining about you to everyone but you, and taking their business elsewhere.You need to listen to the people who are talking to you and ensure you fix the problem for them as well as anyone else who may have experienced it but didn’t say anything.As a rule of thumb, always assume other people have the same problem as the customers who reach out to you.You really only get one chance58% of customers will never use a company again after a bad experience.Unfortunately, many customer complaints go completely unanswered. When you ignore your customers, they’ll leave and talk some smack.I’m telling you this because I’ve seen it first-hand. There are two companies I’ve worked with (who I won’t name) who completely ignored customer complaints!It blew my mind but showed me just how badly poor customer service can hurt a business (one of them shut down, the other looks like it may follow suit).Bad service ruins your reputationBad customer service is talked about three times more than good service.Three (or more!) in every five people are likely to tell someone else about a bad experience, compared to just two in five who speak of a good experience.Plus, they tell three times as many people about it.Bad service means bad word-of-mouth, which means you potentially lose customers who may have purchased from you had their friend not bad-mouthed you.It’s like the butterfly effect – you never know who you might lose.What can you do to provide better customer service?You understand the importance of customer service. That’s fantastic. Welcome to the in-group… We have cookies.Now, let’s look at some ways you can provide outstanding support, allowing you to charge a premium, get better word-of-mouth marketing, and enjoy happier customers:Set the bar high with SMART goalsFirst and foremost, set the bar high for your service. Write out a support mission statement if you have to. Shoot for 5-star customer service.How? Set some goals!In the words of management guru Peter F. Drucker, “What gets measured, gets managed.”In other words, you’ll naturally improve what you focus on. Without focus and goals, it’s unlikely you’ll improve anything.Great examples of customer service goals include:Answering every question within 16 hours (or faster).Achieving 90% or higher customer satisfaction.Getting a 70% completion rate on customer satisfaction surveys.Reducing the number of customer complaints by 20%.Solving customer complaints within two responses (one if you’re awesome).Decreasing 1st response time by 20%.Answer every question, ticket, or complaint – and do it fastOver half of consumers only try to contact support once.You really do only get one chance to set things right, so make sure you answer every single person.But what about speed? What is a “fast” response time?I gave you 8 hours for email and 30 minutes for social as an example above, but let’s take a look at the response time of the top 100 internet retailers.Amazingly, all of them answer support queries within about 17 hours. Office Depot only takes 48 minutes! However, they have dedicated support staff.Answering every support question within 24 hours should be your absolute minimum goal.Keep in mind, though – customers are beginning to expect “unrealistic” social media response times of just one hour. I challenge you to give them what they expect, or even exceed expectations.Unfortunately, this can quickly lead to notification overload…Answering every email, chat, and Facebook message can get very tedious, but you have to do it (and do it quickly) to protect your reputation and ensure you hold onto customer loyalty.To keep things manageable, write out where all of your potential support questions might come from (social, email, live chat, phone, etc.) and set up a system to ensure you’re checking them on a consistent schedule and nothing falls through the cracks.For example, if you know people reach out to you via Facebook, Twitter, Email and Live Chat, set a timer on your computer to remind you to check these things every 45 minutes or so and answer your customers.This keeps you from constantly being distracted by notifications so you can still be productive, while also keeping your average response times low.Most computers have a timer app built in, but the Orzeszek Timer is a super simple, free app.Timer applicationIf the timer method is too primitive for you and you have a little cash to invest, you can also use a support desk software like Hesk to keep track of everything in one place.Finally, if you simply can’t keep up and feel buried in support requests, it may be time to hire a customer support rep or virtual assistant to take care of things for you.Get creativeFew businesses take the time to come up with creative solutions. Simply spending an extra 5 to 10 minutes thinking about how to be different can really make you stand out.Heck, forget spending extra time figuring out unique ideas – I’ll just give you some you can steal.Send personalized “Thank-You” lettersWith junk mail being a normal part of everyone’s lives, getting a handwritten thank-you note really stands out. Do you remember a time when you got a handwritten note from someone?The fact that you can remember it proves my point. Buffer does this extremely well: They sent me a personal thank-you note for participating in their weekly #Bufferchat – with stickers!If you don’t have time to write thank-you notes for every single customer, consider using a service like Thankbot.Give random giftsHave you ever heard of the fascinating study where waiters got higher tips when they gave customers just a few extra mints? Reciprocity is an incredibly powerful psychological trigger for getting others to return the favor.Reciprocity is an incredibly powerful psychological trigger for getting others to return the favor.It doesn’t take much, either. Take Buffer’s stickers, for example – they weren’t expensive, but they made a huge impact.It doesn’t have to be stickers, either. You can send something totally random, like a branded Rubix cube or even a pack of cookies. Everyone loves cookies.Proudly display your customer satisfactionOne way to stand out from the crowd is by proudly displaying your customer support metrics.Basecamp does this by telling the exact percentage of happy customers they’re getting.Call your customersTake the time to call a random customer just to say thank you. Ask them how their experience was with your company, how they liked your product or service, and if there is any way you can better serve them.Almost no one does this, yet it’s such a simple and profound way to make your customers feel important, and turn them into customers for life. Plus, it’s a great way to learn about your target market and their specific pain points.Be transparentBeing transparent should be high on any business’s list of priorities.With an ever-evolving internet comes more intelligent customers with access to any information they need. People can smell bullsh*t a mile away (like a crappy support answer).Plus, being transparent makes customers more likely to forgive you if you make (and admit to) a mistake.How can you be transparent?Tell people when you’re wrong and share your success.If you have an audacious customer service goal, like a 97% customer satisfaction rate, share that with people along with your progress. You never know – they might help you reach it!Want a specific example? Buffer is open about their diversity metrics in terms of who’s on their team.Pretty cool, right?Treat your loyal customers the bestLoyal customers could be worth as much as 70% of your business! I think that warrants playing favorites.Don’t get me wrong – you shouldn’t take forever to answer new or potential customers, and you certainly shouldn’t ignore them.Instead, try to really WOW one of your loyal customers, every single day. Give them a bit of special treatment, and nurture that relationship.Pick one of the creative methods I explained above and use it on your best customers. It really is that simple – you just have to pick up the pencil and write the note or dial that number.ConclusionInvesting time, money, and effort into your customer service isn’t just a good idea – it’s critical to your long-term business success.One study by Oracle found that 86% of consumers will pay more for a better customer experience.Poor customer service is costing businesses billions of dollars every year, and it’s mostly due to laziness and a general lack of caring! Don’t let that be you.Bookmark this page and come back to it if you have to. I know we covered a lot and it won’t be possible to digest and implement it all in one sitting.I challenge you to really WOW one customer, every single day.Take 20 minutes to mail a letter, send a gift, feature them in a story, or simply give over-the-top customer support.That one customer could go on to tell 10 people, who each tell more people. Do this every day, and you’ll soon grow a reputation for incredible customer service. Remember the butterfly effect!