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Artistic Treasures Secured: Fine Art Insurance Options in Florida
In the realm of art, every stroke, every curve, every piece holds a story, a sentiment, and an intrinsic value that transcends mere monetary worth. For collectors, artists, and admirers alike, these artistic treasures stand as testaments to human creativity, culture, and history. However, safeguarding these treasures isn't just about protecting their physical form; it's about preserving their essence, their significance. This is where fine art insurance steps in, offering a shield against the unforeseen and the unpredictable, ensuring that these treasures remain protected and cherished for generations to come.
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Understanding the Value of Fine Art Insurance
Fine art insurance isn't just another financial safeguard; it's a meticulous craft that takes into account the nuances of art valuation, preservation, and risk management. For collectors, artists, galleries, museums, and even emerging art enthusiasts, having the right insurance coverage means more than just financial reimbursement; it means the assurance that their passion, investment, and legacy are safeguarded.
FirstClassIns.com recognizes the unique needs of the Florida art community, understanding that the diverse range of artworks, from contemporary masterpieces to classical artifacts, requires specialized insurance solutions. With a deep understanding of the intricacies of the art world, they offer comprehensive coverage that extends beyond standard insurance policies.
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Valuing art is an intricate process that requires expertise and finesse. It collaborates with seasoned art appraisers and experts who understand the nuances of art valuation. Their in-depth knowledge ensures accurate assessment and valuation of artworks, providing clients with the confidence that their pieces are appropriately insured based on their true value.
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Art exhibitions and events are integral to Florida's vibrant art scene. It also offers specialized coverage for these occasions, providing comprehensive insurance solutions that safeguard artworks on display, during transit, and throughout the duration of the event, mitigating risks associated with public showcases.
Why Choose FirstClassIns.com?
First Class Ins isn't just an insurance provider; it's a trusted partner dedicated to preserving the essence and significance of artistic treasures. Their commitment to understanding the specific needs of the Florida art community sets them apart:
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Tailored Solutions: Their bespoke insurance plans cater to the diverse range of art forms prevalent in Florida.
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In conclusion, the realm of fine art demands more than just conventional insurance coverage. It requires a nuanced understanding of art's value, significance, and the associated risks. FirstClassIns.com stands as a stalwart guardian, ensuring that Florida's artistic treasures remain secured, cherished, and celebrated for generations to come. With their specialized expertise and tailored solutions, they embody the essence of safeguarding artistic legacies, making them the premier choice for fine art insurance in Florida.
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I just realized that I misswrote something on the post the other day about the whitebeards assuming that fem ace was pregnant.
But it gave me another idea:
The whitebeards assuming that Ace and Deuce are married due to their antics.
(Mainly because of Deuce having that fond and kind of gleeful expression whenever ace destroys things and them sleeping together all the time)
Listen!!!! Everyone knows Deuce is in love with Ace. There is no secret there.
No if we are staying in the Whitebread mistaking Ace for being pregnant after she meets Sabo again (see post here)
Deuce is being super sweet and supportive. He’s trying his best (along with the other spades) to shut down any rumors about their former captain.
Until one day he goes to drop of Ace’s dinner and he tries to talking to her again. “You know I’m always here for you. No matter what. I know we’re on a new crew but you will always be my captain and I will always be YOUR 1st mate. I will be by our side no matter what.” Deuce trying to be comforting even though Ace hasn’t looked at him in weeks.
Ace, who has spent the past month think about her brother what was supposed dead for years only to be alive and forgotten their bond. Questioning if she’s even worth remembering. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Even the strongest bonds fade over time. No matter how strong they were or how much they promised.”
Deuce, for the first time wondering if the rumors are true and his best friend/crush did fall in love and get pregnant only to be abandoned. What else could make her feel this way? She always believed in her bonds with people. Her younger sibling Luffy being the most important. And as far as Deuce knew Luffy was fine. “bonds might change but my loyalty to you never will. If you need me I’ll be there. No matter what.”
Ace actually turns to look at him. She’s crying again and she wants so badly not to cry anymore but Sabo is alive and wants nothing to do with her and it’s been so long since she’s felt this worthless. “Stay with me?”
Deuce stays. They’re not doing anything just taking and sleeping. But the rumor mill goes crazy. People talking about how Deuce finally got the girl. How he’s stepping up for Ace and they’re proud of him. Some wonder if it was a lovers spat all along.
But some a ruder about it. And one poor soul, probably Teach because he sucks. Says something about Deuce being so pathetically in love that he’d take a ruined woman and her bastard. Deuce hears it and it’s the first time he’s ever punched a crew mate before. Not because of what they said about him but because of the disrespect and latent sexism towards Ace. (Who again is not pregnant)
Whitebeard is big stressed. He’s got so many rumors flying. A possible grandchild on the way. A possible father as a revolutionary to hunt down. And one of his doctors just broke his hand from punching another one of his son’s in the face. (He proud once the whole story is explained but why him)
When Sabo shows up everyone one of the gossipers is ready for a show down only to be slack jawed because 1) that’s Ace’s brother! 2) she’s not pregnant!
And somehow Deuce and Marcos get roped in (Ace asked them) to giving Sabo a full exam (he was just tackled to the ground) main to insure he’s memories are all right.
Once again quite a confusing day for all.
On the other hand if we’re talking about another story entirely when fem Ace and Deuce are assumed to be married.
The Whitebeard’s are the biggest gossips. You do not have a crew that big that’s all “family” and not get into each others business.
And deuce is so obviously in love with his formal captain. He watches he burn down enemies (a terrifying thing to witness) like it’s a work of art. He is warm to her and goes out of his way to make sure they still see each other as much as possible.
But Ace does to. Their stand offish little sister is warm to her former crew in general but it’s obvious that Deuce is special. She goes out of her way to see him. Even hang out in the infirmary when he can’t leave. A place most commanders avoid like the plague.
The two used to share a room on their old ship and it’s not uncommon for Deuce to spend the night in Ace’s quarters now.
All the Whitebeard’s think they’re married. Heck most of the Spades think they’re married. It’s only the original crew that knows they’re not. They don’t correct anyone because they have so many bets on when the two idiots will actually get together and refuse to have any of these idiots speed up their time tables.
It isn’t until Ace is hanging out with the other commanders on night and Izou asks Ace if she’d like to invite her husband to join them. (They wouldn’t mind him joining them, sure it’s normally commanders only but they can make an exception for the only married pair.)
Ace looks are him supper confused, but before she can speak Marco does. “My fault. I scheduled Deuce to work tonight so I could join you. Next time I’ll put someone else in charge.” He directs the second point to Ace almost as if he’s apologizing for incovining her.
Now Ace is very confused because “I’m not married to Deuce.”
“You’re not!” They all yell at once before looking between each other.
“Do you want to be?” Thatch asked and Ace started sputtering. And that’s it. The commanders are looking between each other. It’s game on. You ever gets Ace and Deuce together wins.
Once Ace leaves they establish rules. They can have help from their divisions. So if one of the nurses convinces Deuce to propose then Marco wins. What do they win. Being Whitebeard’s current favorite. He’s not a man who ranks his children but he was there for the whole conversation. If Ace and Deuce aren’t married and decide to get married guess who is marrying them! Thats right Whitebeard. He’s pumped. The winner gets unofficial title of favorite plus a week off.
The game is on.
Meanwhile Ace is now looking at Deuce completely differently. She had never thought of him in that light before but now… her whole world view has shifted.
She’s trying to navigate this monumental shift while getting pushed into increasingly crazy scenarios with Deuce.
Meanwhile Deuce has always known he had a crush on her. He knew Ace didn’t see him that way so he had decided to ignore it and be friends. Ace’s friendship was enough. But now Ace is acting weird around him and they keep getting stuck together and the nurse and doctors have started telling him how cute they would be together and he feels like he’s losing his mind a bit. It’s not going to happen and he’s okay with that.
It’s a lot of shenanigans
#one piece#portagas d. ace#masked deuce#acedeuce#female portgas d ace#whitebeard pirates#sabo#asl brothers
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This is art for my New All Caste au. Basically, Jason wants to rebuild the all caste in order to keep the culture alive and also to have more people who can fight the untitled. Since Essence is busy sharing a body with Isabel, Jason decides he’ll do it on his own. He was the only human to be able to learn how to wield the all blades and the all blades are connected to his soul so he uses some random magic item to find people with souls like his. The two people he finds first are Tara and Grant. So now he has to redeem them according to all caste standards so murder is fine but other than that Jason’s got his work cut out for him.
In this au, they did all die at some point but stayed dead long enough for all of them to have ended up roughly the same age. Originally when Jason was 13, Tara was 15 and Grant was 20 but now they’re all roughly twenty. I keep saying ‘roughly’ because Jason was in a coma and unresponsive for a bit so if you ignored that year then he’d probably be more like nineteen.
Also, since I don’t think I’d be able to handle the whole cannon Tara and Slade situation with the gravity it requires and since I just prefer them to have a slightly messed up mentor mentor dynamic, Slade never groomed Tara. Or at least not that kind of grooming. He still probably wasn’t the best to her but nothing romantic or sexual ever happened. He treated her and saw her just like the rest of his kids so whilst she’d still have issues because of him, it won’t be those kind of issues.
Once Grant came back to life he decided not to reconnect with his family because whilst he did miss Joey, this was his chance to have a life completely separate from his parents and he wasn’t going to pass that up. Mostly he just hung out with his old pall Jade and did jobs with her until Jason showed up.
Jason met Tara first and when he gave her his sales pitch she was living with Slade, Tanya, Rose and Poppy. She’d just gotten into a fight with Slade and took up Jason’s offer because he promised health insurance, dental, free food, living in the Chamber of All where no one but Jason and S’ara could get to, and getting magic swords by the end of it which she could brag about to Rose sounded like a pretty good deal. However, after her many bad experiences she isn’t exactly the most trusting person so gave him a fake name - Rocky. (I know it’s silly but if she used Terra as an alias, Rocky isn’t completely out of the question.)
When he gave the pitch to Grant, Grant said he’d go if he got payed and after being Red Hood for a while Jason had gotten a lot of money he mostly just spent on reinvesting in Gotham but still had more than he knew what to do with. He figured rebuilding the all caste was a good enough goal to spend money on so agreed and Grant joined the team.
From there they take a while to get along with each other. They take even longer to figure out who everyone is. Grant never heard of Tara and Jason only heard bits and pieces from Dick when he’d visit but Dick never talked a lot about her because either she’d already betrayed them or was just a plain headache to deal with. Grant died before Jason became Robin so would only know him as the Red hood guy whose friends with Jade’s ex and Tara would have probably only heard about Jason through Rose. Granted she wasn’t paying that much attention. Whilst they all vaguely know the others are capes too, no one actually bothered to mention their identities so it takes Tara inviting them to a family dinner for them to all figure out who the others are.
Also random things:
Terra loves to wind Grant up because he reacts more than Jason. Jason and Grant are the first to start getting along and bond over their shared interests like swords, hating Dick Grayson and some niche metal band no one else has ever heard of. Whilst Jason teaches them to meditate, Tara likes to move rocks until someone else notices. One time she made the ground she was sitting on hover up to ten feet in the air until Grant noticed (if you ask him, he’ll say he realised she was gone because it was too peaceful).
@autisticrosewilson
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Not super rare at all but Pierre and Morris 💔
Fantastic let's make these slimy weasels kiss
I literally just remembered Pierre's married LOL that's how much I care about his and Caroline's marriage.
With the Robin x Haley one I was like oh nooo I can't break up her marriage owie and this one I'm so chill with wrecking. Caroline will be fine I'm sure. She's already checked out.
If you like this pairing, I love this meme by @vilochkaaa , actually check out their whole blog there is so much great MorrisxPierre art. That meme is exactly how I imagine them.
Capitalism is their kink. They would absolutely exploit each other to make money if at all possible. Like, even if you like Morris' arc in his mod and want to think the best of him, he is not okay if he ends up with Pierre. That's his bad ending. They are making each other worse 100%.
Anyway, getting into it, it ends vaguely spicy so yk reader discretion advised or whatever
Of the two of them, Pierre is more aggressively manipulative.
Morris is a general manager. He is living the hell that is middle management and absolutely used to getting shit on daily by his district manager, I'm sure. So when Joja closes and he gets fired, he’s left hanging with no one to boss him around, and Pierre can fill that role.
Morris doesn’t live in Pelican Town so why does he stay? Revenge. And also a job. Now that Joja is closed, Pierre is open an additional day and needs help managing the influx of customers.
Morris comes to beg for a job. He has no choice if he wants to stick around and get his revenge on the farmer. But he tries to sell the villagers on this whole changed-man act. He’s learned from his ways. He’s making an honest living now.
But he starts to see Pierre is actually more similar to him than he thought. He’s shady, passing off produce from the farmer as his own, changing expiration dates on pantry goods, etc.
Pierre always works with him, probably because he doesn't trust Morris. He always handles the sales, and relegates Morris to lowly stocking and loading. If Morris is working, Pierre is there over his shoulder. Surely it’s only a lack of trust and nothing else, right?
They frequently end up closing the store alone together. At first Pierre would send Morris away before turning off the main store lights. Then he started doing it earlier, while they were still cleaning. Morris felt like he was being tested somehow, so he only continued as he was.
One day Pierre corners him as he’s exiting the broom closet. The main store lights are off and the air is thick and silent. He asks him if he’d like to make a bit of extra cash on the side, and it’s exactly as nefarious as it sounds.
Morris isn't sure why he agrees at first. Sure he loves money, but he isn’t so desperate as that. Well, not desperate for money anyway. But maybe he is touch-starved enough to get on his knees in a dusty broom closet...
Oop lol That's my most scandalous ending so far. Yeah it'd be a smut what else am I supposed to do, insurance fraud? They're so toxic lol.
This ask is a part of the (now closed) SDV Rarepair Challenge! Check out the other answers here, and make sure to boost your favorite so it can appear in the final fic poll! More info on that here.
#stardew valley#sdv#answered asks#send asks#fic writer#ao3 writer#rarepair#shipping in the valley#rare ship#rarepair challenge#ficlet#fic idea#lily speaks#sdv pierre#sdv morris#pierre x morris#morris x pierre
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If I Can Dream
24 - While I Can Think, Talk, Stand, Walk
art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr / lazyjunebug on twitter
cw: general teenage angst, mentions of not eating (not related to any EDs !!), blood
Year: 2004
“Okay, just a few more steps,” Eddie said.
His hands were over Bobby’s eyes as he guided her out of the house, down the driveway. The teenager was giggling to herself, stumbling over her own feet as her father tried leading the way. Eddie peered around the girl, tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth, trying his best to focus.
“Nearly.” They took a few more steps as Eddie sighed in relief. “Okay, ready?”
“Yes!”
“Alright… one, two, three!” He pulled his hands away and ran to meet Steve.
“Oh my god…”
“Tada!”
The two were standing next to a brand new, navy blue BMW Beamer, arms raised with cheer. There was a bright red bow on the hood of the car—the perfect finishing touch to the teenager’s birthday gift.
“I… oh my god… thank you guys!”
She ran into their arms, crying tears of joy. Bobby had recently gotten her license and was constantly asking to borrow Eddie’s decked out Dodge Charger, over Steve’s practical Mercedes sedan. So, the couple compromised and got her a Beamer—best of both worlds.
“Now, there’s a couple rules,” Steve started. “First–”
“When can I take her for a spin?” Bobby cut him off.
“After we tell you the rules and responsibilities, okay?”
“Fine… lay them on me.”
“Okay,” Steve sighed, hands resting on his hips. “First, having a car is a big responsibility. You need to make sure all its preventative maintenance is done, like oil changes, tire rotations–”
“Yeah, okay, what else?” Bobby was practically buzzing from excitement.
“There’s going to be a curfew. You can leave as early as you need for work or school, but I expect to see you home, in the driveway, walking through that front door no later than ten, got it?”
“But dad,” she whined. “All my friends get to stay out until eleven, sometimes even later!”
“And you’ll survive coming home an hour earlier.”
“Fine,” she pouted. “What else?”
“You’re responsible for putting gas in it, got it? Pops and I will handle insurance and payments and everything, but gas is up to you. We want you saving your hard earned money, but we still want you to be responsible for something this big. Understood?”
“Yes, dad. Keys, please?”
“Here,” he smiled, handing them over.
“Ah! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She hugged them, eagerly jumping up and down.
“Okay, okay,” Eddie giggled, “just be safe, alright?”
“I will, papa. I love you guys so much!”
Bobby released herself from the hug and ran to the driver’s seat. Steve took the bow off the car, tucking it under his arm, as he waved his daughter off.
“She didn’t grab her license, did she?” Steve asked.
“Nope.”
“Her phone is probably inside too, huh?”
“Yup.”
“Whole purse?”
“Mhmm.”
“How long until you think she figures it out?”
“I give her ten minutes.”
A few days passed and Bobby had barely been home—she was taking her car out at any chance she had. The boys would be lying if they said they didn’t enjoy having a little helper go to the store, or put gas in their cars, or even have to drive her around anymore. However, it broke their heart to see their little girl so grown up.
Ever since Bobby got her car, the boys noticed she was becoming more secretive. Whenever she went out, she never explicitly said what she was doing or who she was going out with. Steve trusted that she knew was she was doing, but Eddie was constantly panicked. He was her age once—terribly sneaky and always getting into trouble (at least before dating Steve).
One day, Bobby came home right before dinner was on the table. She rushed through the corridor, dumping her bag in the hall, and trying to run up the stairs. However, her efforts were stopped by Eddie catching the hood of her sweatshirt.
“Where do you think you’re going, missy?” he asked.
“Upstairs,” she mumbled.
“Dinners gonna be ready in a few minutes.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Bobby Judas, why are you facing away from me?”
“It’s nothing, pops! Jesus Christ, leave me alone!”
“What’s going on?” Steve asked. “Bobbs, come on, dinners nearly ready.”
“I’m not hungry!” She yelled, finally facing her parents.
Their eyes widened when they finally saw their little girl—septum pierced along with bilateral nostrils. Eddie stammered as he tried to find the right words, but Steve took them right out of his mouth.
“What did you do?” Steve uttered.
“Went to the piercer…”
“How… how did you get… who signed off on parental consent?”
“I… um…”
“Um?” Eddie fumed.
“I have a fake…”
“Jesus Christ,” he sighed. “You could’ve just asked us! Honey, you know us, we would’ve said yes. B-But going behind our backs? Bug, it’s a slap in the face.”
“I’m sorry… I didn’t think you guys would approve…”
“How did you expect to hid three piercings?”
“I didn’t think that far ahead.”
“Do you know how to properly take care of everything?” Steve sighed.
“Sorta…”
“Christ, okay, did the piercer tell you? Give you instructions or anything?”
“No, but Judah–”
“Ugh,” Eddie scoffed.
“What, papa? What do you have against my boyfriend?”
“Where do I start,” he seethed.
“Eddie,” Steve warned.
“He has made you rebellious and has you going behind our backs! We didn’t raise you to be like this!”
“Well, turns out, you did!”
And just like that, Steve was teleported nearly twenty years into the past. Back to one of the many arguments he had with his parents—specifically, when he stood up on Eddie’s behalf. He was sick and tired of his parents misgendering Eddie—he figured it was time to finally stand up for himself and his [now] husband. Steve had dissociated, being stuck in a memory.
“I didn’t raise a fag,” John spat.
“Well, turns out, you did,” Steve grit his teeth. “I love him. He’s not going anywhere. Get used to it.”
It wasn’t until Bobby’s yelling pulled him back into reality.
“I love him! He’s fun and older and mature. He’s everything a girl could want,” she fawned.
“How much older,” Steve asked.
“What?”
“Bobby, how old is he?”
“Only nineteen.”
“Bobby!” the two yelled.
“I knew you’d react this way! Ugh, why can’t I just be happy!”
“While you live under our roof, you live by our rules. Are we clear?” Eddie scolded.
“You guys ruin all my fun. I hate you!” She cried, running up to her room.
Tears streamed down Eddie’s face as he hit the corridor wall just enough to make the paint chip. He wiped his eyes on his sweatshirt sleeve and stormed back into the kitchen with Steve hot on his trail.
“We can’t yell at her like that,” Steve said. “It’ll only make everything worse.”
“No, I know,” Eddie sniffed. “I just… we didn’t raise her to shy away or hide from us. I-I thought we were doing a good job at forming that close bond where she could tell or ask us anything.”
“I guess not,” Steve sighed. “But think back to when you were her age… were you any better?”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Stevie… I don’t want her to be like me.”
“Smart, pretty, and successful?” he teased.
“Shut up,” Eddie mumbled. “I’m being serious. When I was sixteen, Christ, I was getting sketchy tattoos in peoples basements. I-I was out in the woods growing my own pot and selling it to people.”
“You were what?”
“Please, I sold much worse.”
“You what?”
“What?” Eddie shrugged.
“Eds, we’ve been married for how many fucking years and you’re just now telling me you used to be a drug dealer?”
“How did you think I made my money?” He raised a brow.
“Hell, I don’t know, maybe working like a normal person‽”
“Please, when have you ever known me to be normal?”
“Touché…”
“So what’re we gonna do about Bee?” Eddie sighed.
“Eds, I don’t think there’s anything we can do. We just have to let her make her own choices and make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”
“I miss when she was little,” Eddie pouted. “God, we were best friends. She was a mini-me—a little sidekick!”
“To be fair, Eds, she’s still a mini-you. She’s just reached that rebellious stage,” Steve shrugged. “Let her ride it out. I’m sure it’ll all work out—it did with you, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, but only because I started dating the hot jock, not some dude who already graduated.”
“Ed, you were supposed to already be graduated when we started dating. You’re reading too deep into this.”
“Yes, but I was nineteen and you were eighteen. A little different than sixteen and nineteen.”
“I’m not saying I’m happy about it, but us trying to stop it is going to do more harm than good.”
“I guess you’re right… do you wanna try getting her down here for dinner? Or at least bring a plate up to her?”
“I think it’d be better if you did it, Eds.”
“Why me?”
“The tensions been a lot higher between you two than me and her.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I’ll go try and bring her down.”
Eddie ascended the stairs and made his way to his daughter’s room. He gently knocked a few times before testing to see if the knob would turn. When it did, he let himself in. Bobby was sitting on her bed, legs clung to her chest, journal balanced atop her knees—headphone cords dangling from her ears as music blared loud enough even for Eddie to hear.
“Bobbs?” Eddie started. She glanced up, rolled her eyes, and went back to journaling. “Bobby, honey, I’m sorry.” Eddie closed the door behind him and sat on the edge of her bed. “Bee, please…”
“What do you want?” she huffed, ripping her headphones out.
“I wanted to apologize.”
“I don’t wanna hear it. Judah and I are happy.”
“No, I know, but forgive me for worrying. If you ever become a parent you’ll understand.”
“What’s the big deal? Huh? You’re older than dad!”
“Yes, honey, I know, but we were nineteen and eighteen when we started dating. We were both legal. I just worry that he’s gonna take advantage of you.”
“He’s not that stupid, and neither am I. He knows better—mainly because I think he knows you and dad would kill him,” she giggled.
“He better know,” Eddie weakly smiled. “We love you, bug, and we just want you to be happy and safe.”
“I’m a big girl, pops, you don’t need to baby me.”
“Bobby, you’ll always be my baby. Even when dad and I are old and gray, you’ll still be our baby.”
“What do you mean when?”
“Bobby Judas!” Eddie teased. “Ugh, fresh. You literally are a mini-me, Christ.”
“Oh my god, it’s almost like I came outta you.”
“You came out of me‽” Eddie jokingly gasped. “I thought I was a man!”
“Oh, shit, pops, I love you.” Bobby laughed to herself, nudging him with her foot.
“I love you too, bug. So, what’d ya say? Come downstairs for dinner?”
“I’m honestly not hungry, papa.”
“Then at least join us? Please?”
“I’ll be down in a few, okay?”
“Okay… love you.”
“I love you too.”
A few days passed, and while amends had been made, Bobby was still sneaking around, getting herself into trouble. One random evening, Steve and Eddie heard a bump in the night, jostling them awake.
“What was that?” Eddie groaned.
“Was that Bobby?”
“Probably.”
“Can you go check on her?”
“Whose night did we leave off on?”
“Eddie, that was like ten years ago. How the fuck am I supposed to remember?”
“Because you’re supposed to be the smart one here, Steven.”
“Go check on our spawn, for fuck’s sake.”
“Christ, fine.”
Eddie swung his legs out of bed and trudged down the hall. He quietly opened Bobby’s bedroom door and glanced in, not seeing his teenager anywhere, not even her bed (which did not look slept in).
“Piece of shit, stupid fucker.”
Eddie turned his head, hearing sobbing coming from the upstairs bathroom. He knocked on the door, not even waiting for an answer.
“Bee, is everything– Bobby!”
Tears pricked at Eddie’s eyes as he saw his daughter crying, blood pooling in her hands as it poured from her nose. He rushed in, panicking to help her in some way—any way.
“Bobby, wh-what happened? Did that piece of shit hit you?”
“No,” she cried. “We-We-We– god!” She sobbed hysterically.
“Just breathe, it’s okay, you’re okay,” Eddie cooed. He dampened a wash cloth as he cleaned her face.
“We broke up,” she sniffed.
“Why’re you bleeding?”
“Did you not hear me?”
“No, I did, pumpkin, and I’m sorry to hear that, but why are you bleeding?”
“I was taking my piercings out,” she frowned. “He was the one that liked them… I don’t want ‘em anymore.”
“Sweetheart…” Eddie sighed.
“What’s going on? I heard crying!” Steve panted, bursting through the threshold.
“Smooth, Harrington.”
“Shut it. Bobby, what’s wrong? You’re bleeding…”
“Thanks, Captain Obvious.”
“Okay, watch the fucking attitude, Eds. Bobbs, what happened? Are you hurt?”
“Papa, don’t make me repeat it,” she cried.
“I’ll explain later, Steve, just go back to bed. I’ve got it handled.”
“You sure?”
“Positive. Look at me, bug…”
Eddie gingerly lifted her chin as he dabbed away at the blood staining her sore nose. She winced in pain at every passing swipe, Eddie tutting his tongue in sorrow. He couldn’t stand seeing his daughter sad—never mind in pain.
“Bee?” Eddie whispered.
“Hmm?”
“Why didn’t you ask us for help? O-Or wait until the morning when we could take you to a piercer to get this stuff removed?”
“I dunno, I just panicked,” she shrugged. “You wouldn’t know—you’ve never been heart broken.”
“Says who?” Eddie asked.
“Please,” Bobby scoffed. “You and dad have been together for a million years.”
“Doesn’t mean I didn’t date before that.”
“Wait, you… you were in love before dad?”
“Mhmm, sure was.”
“What was his name?”
“It was actually a girl.”
“Oh… I never knew you ever dated any girls.”
“Girl… just the one.”
“Does dad know?”
“Mhmm. He was actually friends with her back in high school, long before we started dating.”
“Was she pretty?”
“Oh, gorgeous,” Eddie beamed.
“Why’d you break up?”
“Well, sweetheart, I realized I wasn’t into women in that way. I was confused when I was younger—trying different things, seeing what felt right. My junior year of high school, I rekindled with this beautiful girl who I was friends with back in middle school. I knew I wasn’t straight, but I didn’t know in what way. At the time, I thought I was a lesbian… I was getting so much gender envy from all the guys, I just thought I hated men. Turns out, I wanted to be them,” Eddie chuckled. “But, before she joined the cheer squad and became popular, we briefly dated, and yeah… the rest is history.”
“And you loved her?”
“I adored her, honey. I loved her as a person, and I honestly kick myself for not keeping in touch after the breakup.”
“Was it mutual?”
“Yeah,” he shrugged. “We realized we were different and not what we wanted. We were both heartbroken, sure, but we still loved each other.”
“That’s so… bittersweet…”
“Sure was,” Eddie whispered.
Eddie eased out the remainder of her fresh piercings, throwing them haphazardly in the trash. He finished cleaning up Bobby’s face and hands before running to get her a clean pair of pajamas. After she changed, she headed back to the bathroom to take off the rest of her makeup. Eddie took it upon himself to undo her ponytail and brush out her fried hair.
“Thanks, papa,” she sighed.
“Anytime, bug.”
“Papa?”
“Hmm?”
“Actually, never mind, it’s stupid.”
“No, what’s up?”
“How did you know you loved dad?”
“I just knew,” he beamed. “I can’t really explain it. I knew I loved him pretty early on, but I never said it until about six months in.”
“What made you finally say it?”
“Well…” Eddie’s cheeks burned red, thinking back to the night him and his husband confessed their love.
“Oh, fuck, Steve. Shit, I love you so fucking much,” Eddie babbled.
“I love you too, baby,” Steve huffed, trying to hold out for Eddie. “You feel so fucking good, god. So tight, so wet—all for me.”
“All for you,” Eddie whined. “God, please, Steve!”
“Pops?”
“Hmm?” Eddie’s eyes widened, pulling himself back into reality.
“What made you say it?”
“Just… how sweet and understanding he was when I came out.”
“What made you come out to him?”
“He was upset our relationship wasn’t progressing the way he had hoped. He started asking if there was a problem with him and he got all worked up. I couldn’t hide from him anymore so I showed him my bandages–”
“From top surgery?”
“No, no, that wasn’t until a year or so later. I mean, I used to use ace bandages to bind my chest down. But he took them off, cared for me, and has loved me unconditionally ever since.”
“If that never happened, would you have ever come out to him?”
“It’s hard to say, honestly. I was afraid of losing him.”
“But why would you want to be with someone who wouldn’t love you for you?”
“You never knew him in high school,” Eddie chuckled. “God, did you know, dad initially wanted upwards of six kids. Six, Bobby!”
“Yeah, you’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she giggled.
“I know, but I still can’t get over it! Regardless… I loved him so much that, if I never came out, lord, I would’ve popped all six out for him. I would’ve been miserable, but if he was happy, that’s all I cared about.”
“That seems toxic…”
“It would be if he didn’t love me back or didn’t compromise. But alas, he did, and he just wants to see me happy too. Seeing me happy was just having you,” he smiled. “That’s called loving someone unconditionally… all their beauty and all their flaws.”
He continued brushing through her hair, grabbing the numerous products Steve bought for her, and properly pampered her hair. Bobby closed her eyes and sighed contently. She knew this is what love was supposed to be—someone to always be there for you, care for you, and accept you no matter what; all your beauty, and all your flaws.
“Papa?”
“Yes, bug?”
“You said you would’ve been miserable with multiple kids.”
“Mhmm.”
“Did you ever think you were gonna be miserable with me?”
“Oh, god, yes. Bobby, I was petrified when I found out I was pregnant. I was terrified that I wouldn’t love you, or that you wouldn’t love me. Thankfully, dad knocked some sense into me.”
“How so?”
“He said something along the lines of people who worry about not loving someone often already love them more than they know.”
“And?”
“Wouldn’t ya know it—I love you more than life itself,” Eddie beamed. “You’re a good kid, Bee. Dad and I are proud of you… we always will be…”
“Thanks, papa,” she whispered. “Sorry I’ve been a pain in the ass…”
“Eh, it’s alright. You’re a teenager—we’ve all had our moments. Okay…” Eddie whispered, tongue poked out in concentration as he tied Bobby’s hair into a braid. “And done! Get to bed, love bug. You have school in the morning.”
“Alright, pops. I love you.”
“I love you too—sleep well.”
Despite the boys’ best efforts, Bobby was still sneaking around. Steve and Eddie considered different forms of discipline, but they realized that would only make everything worse. Instead, they decided to try the opposite—play into it—let her know that they knew her every move.
“Bobbs! Dinner!” Steve called.
“Not hungry!”
“Bobby Judas, please come down and try to eat something!”
“I said I’m not hungry!”
“Bobby!” Eddie warned. “Get down here!”
“What’re you doing?” Steve whispered.
“Getting the spawn to eat.”
The boys heard the thumping of their child trudging down the stairs. She stood on the landing, arms crossed, hip jutted out against the banister. She raised a brow as she tapped her foot impatiently.
“What?” she snapped.
“Okay, cut the attitude, missy. Come sit down with us,” Eddie said.
“I told you, I’m not hungry.”
“That’s fine, just sit with us.”
“But I have to work on my campaign.”
“I’m sorry, your what?” Steve asked.
“You heard me.”
“While I’m so proud of you, join your father and I for dinner. If you eat, I’ll help you out and we’ll make a one-shot that is so hard and so sadistic, not even I’ll be able to beat it.”
“Shit, fine.”
She hopped down the few remaining stairs and pulled a seat up at the dining table. She grabbed a plate and a glass of water and took her usual spot between her fathers. She started shoveling the meal down her throat, trying to clear the table as quick as she could.
“So, how was school?” Steve asked, trying to start up a conversation.
“Fine,” Bobby mumbled.
“How’s your nose?” Eddie added.
“Fine.”
“Bee–”
“It’s fine. Everything’s fine.” She shoved the last remaining bits of food in her mouth before standing up. “Thanks for dinner. Bye.”
“Bobby–”
“Dad–”
“Sit, for fucks sake. We miss you, pumpkin. Talk to us.”
“Christ, fine.”
She slumped back down, crossing her arms in protest.
“So how’s school?” Steve asked again.
“It’s fine, seriously.”
“Meds working out okay?”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“You’re focusing okay?”
“Mhmm.”
“None of your friends are asking for your Adderall, right?”
“Some do.”
“You don’t… you don’t give it to them though, right?” Steve stuttered. “I love your father, but I don’t want you being like him.”
“Hey– eh, you’re right,” Eddie shrugged.
“No, I don’t give it to them.”
“You promise?”
“I swear, dad. I literally need it to function in school. I’m not about to just give it away or sell it. Plus, if I need money for something, I’ll just ask papa.”
“Okay… I believe you…” Steve sighed.
“So what’re you working on in your campaign?” Eddie asked with a mouth full of food.
“Christ, I thought you’d never ask!”
Bobby got lost in her story telling, speaking to her fathers more than she had in the past month. By the time she was done explaining her campaign, Steve was already cleaning up the mess from dinner. Eddie placed a kiss on Bobby’s head and joined his husband, helping him tidy up. Bobby peered in, smirking to herself as she quietly grabbed her car keys.
“I’m going to bed,” she called.
“Night, bug,” Eddie said. “We love you.”
“Love you too.”
She ran upstairs, locking her bedroom door behind her. She grabbed an array of pillows and clothes and stuffed them under her blanket to match the shape of her sleeping body. The young girl popped open her window and scaled down the front of her house like she had done many times before.
Bobby briefly fumbled with her keys, unlocking her car with the main key so her parents wouldn’t hear the alarm go off. She buckled herself in and started the engine, eager to drive off into the nothingness of Hawkins. As she tuned her radio to the desired station, she heard a voice echo from the backseat.
“Where are we going?”
“Ah!” She screamed.
“Do you think I’m stupid, Bobby?” Eddie asked.
“Sorry…” She whispered.
“Be home by twelve or I’m sending dad to come and get you.”
“But he’ll embarrass me!”
“Yeah, exactly.” Eddie got out of the car, leaning in through the window. “Just be safe, kiddo, okay?”
“Okay…”
“Please don’t hurt yourself or get into any trouble.”
“I know.”
“Dad and I love you and we hate that you’re becoming distant from us… I know we’re lame and everything but… but we miss you, Bee…”
“I’m sorry, papa. I love you guys too. It’s just, I’m not a little girl anymore. I wanna go out and have fun and do my own thing.”
“I understand,” he sighed. “All we ask is have dinner with us, alright?”
“Fine.”
“And don’t end up like me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Bobbs, I was a sneaky, rebellious drug dealer who was held back three times. Go out and party and do whatever kids your age do. But for the love of god… don’t end up like me. Talk to us. Ask us for help. We’ll always be here for you… we want to be there for you…”
“I know… I’m sorry, papa…”
“It’s okay.” He kissed her cheek and hugged her as tight as he could through the window. “Just be safe. You call us if you need us. No questions asked.”
“Okay, pops,” she giggled.
“Bye, pumpkin.”
“Bye, papa. I’ll see you when I get home.”
“No later than midnight!”
“I know, I know.”
#steve x eddie#steddie dads#parent steddie#steve harrington#ftm eddie munson#eddie munson#stranger things#eddie st4#eddie stranger things#gay#st4#lgbtq#lgbt pride#joe kerry#joseph quinn#steddie#happy#pride#love#maya hawke#netflix#robin buckley#transgender#trans eddie munson
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Hello, Sam! I’m one of your neighbours, and I’m presently job hunting, coming out of a professional services career. I’ve been eyeing work in the nonprofit sector, and was wondering if you have any advice on entering you might share? I am aware it doesn’t typically pay the way for-profit tends to, which is fine; Chicago’s COL is Chicago’s COL, though, and can I reasonably expect to be able to continue to live in the city?
Hey fellow Chicagoan!
So, it kind of depends on a couple of factors, like what jobs you're looking at in the nonprofit sector, which nonprofit you end up with, and what your current COL is in Chicago. I was living...comfortable-ish on $55K/yr, but I was in a cheap one-bedroom rental situation and had reduced-fee student loans, no partner or children, and was used to living very cheaply. I now earn roughly $75K/yr with a mortgage and no student loans, but I still had to put a few things on credit to do the Europe trip (since paid off). For context, after taxes $75K a year is roughly $5K/mo, of which I get about $2.5K/mo after mortgage and bills (including vision and dental insurance, which I don't get through my work).
I work for a small nonprofit of about 35 people (about half in fundraising) with a yearly fundraise of $10M or so. I was actually far less well-compensated at my last job, which was a massive organization with a 200-person fundraising team alone. But if you're coming from for-profit your best bet is still to look at large orgs, like United Way or UIC or similar. I know from experience the museums in Chicago, while delightful, generally have to pay somewhat below industry standard (when I changed jobs from a $55K to a $75K job, the Art Institute was offering $40K for the same position).
Without knowing your previous industry and where you're looking to land it's tough to offer useful information, but it is possible to live in Chicago, even in downtown, and work for a nonprofit, it just depends on other factors. And I don't have a ton of info on what other non-fundraising people who work at nonprofits get paid. :/
If you like, feel free to hit me up at [email protected] and I'm happy to get more specific; I can also pass along some good jobsearch websites for specifically the nonprofit field. But I would definitely start by researching larger nonprofits, either local to Chicago or national with Chicago branches, and checking out comp salaries in your field.
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danbi dog walking w/ tae sort of meet cute-type date vibes
🪩 WORDCOUNT | 700 (exactly!) 🪩 NOTE FROM HOLLY | so i kinda think they're impossible to have a meet-cute, just because danbi was sooooo anti-tae at the start. like she always knew he was interested and used to try soooo hard to pretend that she wasnt!!! plus if anyone is a man hater (complimentary <3) it's danbi!! I can't remember when, but i know it's mentioned earlier on in the story that tae had been at memorial park with dan so.... here u go!
🪩 BD DRABBLES MASTERPOST 🪩
“Again?” Danbi sighs as she notices the man walking towards her up through the path of the Memorial Park.
She’d put her hands on her hips if either of them were free - but she’s currently got three dogs to each hand. The leads wrap around so tightly it’s a miracle her fingers haven’t fallen off yet.
Still, her facial expression conveys everything her body can’t - and yet Kim Taehyung has the audacity to stand there fucking smiling.
“Fancy seeing you here!” He beams, turning on his heel to stop himself from walking on by. Doesn't miss a beat. Heads in the same direction as Danbi, now.
“Y’know, some people would consider this stalking,” she tells him with nothing but disdain.
“See, I would agree,” Taehyung answers with contemplative arrogance. “But it’s funny - DB seems to reckon you’ve changed your route, recently?”
“Oh has she, now?” Danbi says, resisting the urge to curse you out. Loves you to death, but knows exactly what you’re doing. Begins to think that your joke about dressing up as cupid for Halloween isn’t really a joke.
“Mhmm,” Taehyung nods, hands in pockets. A little shy, but trying desperately hard not to be. “You used to do your walks down by the river, apparently.”
Danbi’s jaw is tense. Unwavering. “Sometimes a change of scenery is good. Gives the pups more mental stimulation. Different smells.”
“There are so many parks in the city,” he muses.
“Well I’ll pick a different one, once I’ve decided they’ve had enough of this one.”
“Maybe you should try the city forest,” Taehyung suggests. “The one by the last stop on line two. I go there pretty often, too.”
The narrowing of Danbi’s eyes only serves to make Taehyung smile. He’s learning pretty quickly which buttons of Danbi’s to press - and given how easy it is to wind her up, he doesn’t have to try particularly hard.
It’s what he likes about her, though. She’s fiery. Ignites a little something inside him.
“My route choices have nothing to do with you.”
“No?” He challenges. “So why’d it change after you found out my studio overlooks Memorial Park?”
“Coincidence.”
“Y’know,” Taehyung smirks. “Some people would consider it stalking.”
If there’s one thing Danbi hates, it’s when men make her smile - and Taehyung is getting dangerously close to that. She has to nip this in the bud, or otherwise her mild-infatuation with him will inevitably grow, and she cannot let that happen.
She’s dated musicians. Dated pretty boys. Ones with egos. Knows that artists are even worse.
And the ones who look like Kim Taehyung? Nothing but trouble. She knows that as soon as her guard is down, some girl from his art school will end up back in his DM’s and then she’ll have to fight for his attention, which she refuses to do. Dreads to think of the notches in his bedpost. Doesn’t wanna have to look at the art he’s made from other muses.
Again, she’s dated men who are menaces before. Had songs written for other girls cosplayed as serenades for her (fuck you, Sanghyuk). Refuses to let it happen again.
Better to just fight with him. Easier that way.
She’s incapable of doing anything by half measures though, so hatred seems like the best course of action.
“With all due respect, Taehyung, I’m working,” she shrugs, picking up her pace.
“Let me help.”
“No.”
“I'm good with animals.”
“You’re not insured.”
“I know how to walk a dog”
“No.”
“Let me-”
“Fine! Take Mabel,” Danbi finally relents, adjusting the leashes to hold one out from him. On the end is a Pomeranian, not too dissimilar from Taehyung’s own dog - the same dog Taehyung keeps trying to convince Danbi to walk, just so he has an excuse to see her. “She bites.”
“It’s fine,” Taehyung says, taking the leash in his palm and wrapping it over slightly for a little extra security. Starts walking. Is cheeky, as he says, “I’m used to bitches who bite.”
“You did not just call me a bitch,” Danbi gasps, genuinely affronted. It’s the first time throughout this entire interaction that Taehyung thinks he’s getting genuine emotion from her. Knows the rest of it is bull.
“Well, are you planning on biting me?” He flirts. Wouldn’t be opposed. In fact, he’d quite like it.
“Shut up,” she whines with a deadly roll of her eyes. “Just walk the damn dog."
#ooooooo i do love these two#she's a fire sign#he's so earthy!! so calm!!#they're gonna burn the world down!!!!#mabel is me as a dog <3#also fun fact#danbi is the only one of the female ocs that has a faceclaim in my head as i write#like i know what they all look like#but she's the only one where im like ah yes she looks like xyz#if you're curious the person is chun hyojeong - she performs with a group called leenalchi#aka the most gorgeous woman i have ever seen in my life#saw leenalchi at a festival and both me and my friend were (1) obsessed with the group and (2) in love with her#byholly#jungkook fanfic#dappleddaisies#jungkook fanfiction#bd!drabbles#jk ff#taehyung x oc#taehyung drabbles#bad decisions#bd!tae#taehyung fluff
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Second Question. Siyoh Mari. She grew up in Doma? She aided the revolution? Did she stay after it failed? Was she there the entire time of the occupation? If so how did she survive? How does she feel about the people that didn't stay?
There's an implication of secret there, so feel free not to share that if there is one.
Oh no worries! I am quite open about Siyoh's history. She is a very proud and patriotic Doman!
So Siyoh's Mother, Aanya, was Thavnarian born and raised and her Father, Sasja, was Doman born and raised. They met in Thavnair while Sasja was trading goods from Doma. Basically he spied Aanya entertaining in the markets with her Dancing, and immediately fell head over heels for her.
He extended his stay in Thavnair so he could court her for a few weeks, visiting her frequently in the Markets before he finally worked up the courage to ask her on a date. She said yes, and the rest is history.
After exchanging vows they settled down in Doma with Sasja's family. But, when Aanya was pregnant with Siyoh the two migrated back to Thavnair for a short while to be with Aanya's family, which is where Siyoh was born.
Shortly after her birth, Sasja and Aanya moved back to Doma which is why Siyoh is technically Thavnarian despite being raised almost entirely in Doma. Only almost because she visited Thavnair frequently with her Dad on his trade routes to see her Mother's side of the family, including her great grandmother who is actually Vieran!
That being said, both cultures are equally important to her, she still needed to choose a Nationality. Because she was raised mostly in Doma, Siyoh would consider herself an Immigrant who chose Doma for her home. To which she considers herself Doman over Thavnarian.
Growing up, Siyoh never knew a free Doma. She was raised during the Garlean occupation and her parents, while still playing by the Empire's rules, would school her at night in their own beliefs of freedom. Luckily for Siyoh, she had two very loving parents who had the luxury of being able to shelter their Daughter from some of the Occupation's hardships.
Part of this was due to the community Sasja had fostered within his nation. I've talked about Azuma being Siyoh's life-long best friend because the pair were raised together. Azuma's Father and Siyoh's were like found family brothers. Their families took care of each other. In exchange for baked goods from Aanya's bakery Azuma's Father trained Siyoh in the ways of martial arts. To this day she is incredibly talented with a blunt pole arm.
But, Siyoh didn't really feel the effects of the Occupation until she was old enough to be considered an adult. Siyoh grew up aiding her Mother in the bakery. Aanya is one of Siyoh's biggest culinary influences and part of the reason she's so passionate about cooking is because it makes her feel close to her deceased Mother. So her teenage years were spent learning how to bake and aiding her Mother in various chores about the family establishment. Especially when her Father would have to leave home for long trade routes.
If you've ever made your own bread before, you know it can be a tricky business. There are many things out side of your control that can effect the whole process, and you can't always predict exactly how your bread will rise or bake. Which is why back in medieval England an extra 'insurance' loaf was necessary. Today we've come to know it as a 'baker's dozen'. There are a few theories as to why a baker's dozen became 13, but the most widely accepted one has to do with avoiding a beating. In medieval England there were laws that related the price of bread to the price of the wheat used to make it. Bakers who were found to be "cheating" their customers by overpricing undersized loaves were subject to strict punishment, including fines or flogging. Even with careful planning it is difficult to ensure all of your baked goods will come out the same sized. So, for fear of accidentally coming up short, they would throw in a bit extra to ensure they'd be spared a surprise flogging later.
As a writer I was horrifically inspired by this idea for Siyoh's first cruel experience with the Empire. It occurred one day when a high-ranking Garlean officer stopped in to sample their confections and made a big stink about being sold short. Unfortunately, fresh into her adulthood and manning the shop for her Mother who was preparing more confections in the back, Siyoh caught the bulk of his ire.
To make it known no Garlean would ever be sold short in their particular market, Siyoh was brought out front and made an example of. The man had her ear nailed to the door of their shop, so that next time she might better listen to perceive his wants. Once he had left she was so mortified by the experience that instead of waiting for the nail to be remove, she tore her own ear from it.
To this day she still has a crescent notch in her ear from where it scarred. You can see it in almost all of the artwork I've doodled of her.
These days she often adorns it with earrings or piercings. A way of reclaiming the trauma which was inflicted upon her that day.
Siyoh also lost both of her parents during the Occupation. In the same night even. Both Siyoh and Azuma's families had always secretly opposed the occupation. By night Sasja was constantly working to meddle with Garlean tradelines while Aanya inspired the youth around her to be brave enough to one day stand up to the Empire.
But a secret only remains a secret as long as it's kept, and one night the Empire would come calling. Luckily for Siyoh, she had been spending the night with Azuma's family. But her parents were caught, and she would never see them again post that night.
Worse off, Siyoh still has no idea what happened to them. She returned home after spending the night with Azuma to find neither Mother nor Father home, and their house left looking as if they'd left in a rush. Anya's hand pulled soba noodles were still only half made resting on a bowl on the counter. An image that still haunts Siyoh to this day, despite running a Noodle Bar out of their old bakery building.
But this left Siyoh mostly defenseless. For a while she tried manning the bakery by herself. She was hardworking, determined to uphold the honor and respect of her hardworking parents and the wealth of their establishment. But the Empire just kept calling. And more specifically, one officer in general. The one who had nailed her ear to the door.
I won't go into detail, because I would have to trigger warning the hell out of this post. But Siyoh suffered a lot of abuse at the hands of this particular one man. And it wasn't until Azuma's Father was able to smuggle her to Kugane and onto a ship headed for Limsa Lominsa, that Siyoh was able to escape him.
Unfortunately, that ship wrecked just outside the Isle of Umbra, and after bashing her head against a rock before washing ashore, Siyoh (much like Mihli) lost the majority of her memories.
Thankfully she met a sweet Thavnarian woman there ( @thavnairian-mist's character As'htola Amari) who took her in and nursed her back to health and sanity. As'htola became somewhat of an adopted Mother to Siyoh who she still writes to and visits on occasion when her trade routes lead her the right way. (Siyoh also wound up with a bunch of adopted siblings who she loves DEARLY - As'htola's kids)
Of course once she remembered who she was and where she came from, the bells of the revolution were just beginning. And they tolled her return to Doma. Siyoh was reunited with Azuma there and the pair played their part in the revolution by aiding those who fought, as well as Siyoh waging her own fight there.
...and that's how she survived the occupation.
Being someone that technically fled towards the end, she has no hard feelings to the others who fled to Eorzea as refugees. After all, Azuma also fled and wound up in Mor Dhona. Those people were only doing what they could to survive. In fact, she has a lot of sympathy for Doma and her people as they have weathered many hardships under the Garlean Empire.
But more interestingly, Siyoh has no prejudice towards the Garlean People as a whole. This comes with her own experiences. The officer I mentioned earlier had taken her to Garlemald on more than one occasion where she met more than just the soldiers who had bullied her and her family. Through this she noted that not all Garleans were the same. That some where good and kind people, with different beliefs and even oppositions to the empires choices (as we saw in Stormblood.)
Siyoh is able to separate her abusers from their race and nationality as a whole. That one abuser is not the reflection of his entire people. And while she knows more than one was abusive, she also accepts that there is more than one good Garlean out there (for instance, Jullus pyr Norbanus in the MSQ).
And I really admire that about her.
Fun fact: During the Empire Siyoh's full name was actually Siyohei aan Mori
Also one of the write prompts from a previous year very lightly hinted at some of the abuse and anxiety she felt during the occupation. You can read it here if you're interested.
#riftdancing - answers#character - siyoh mari#thanks for the ask!#character - aanya mari#character - sasja mari
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AITA for becoming my ex-best friend’s nemesis after he ditched me to join a superhero team with my bullies?
Some context. I (16F) have been best friends with this guy Gale (16M) since…forever. Our moms were in the same pregnancy support group and we went to the same kindergarten and we’ve basically been inseparable our entire lives. We’ve always been there for each other when times were tough- my dad died in a freak accident at work when I was 5 and his family really helped me and my mom, and we offered similar support when his older brother died a few years later.
I don’t want to minimise Gale’s issues but he’s lived a much more comfortable life than me. His dad is the CEO of a construction company and they have a normal sized house in a nice area (difficult to get in our city). Meanwhile my mom works 3 minimum wage jobs and barely affords the rent in our run-down apartment in the most dangerous part of town. He’s super sociable and gets along with everyone, while I’ve been bullied since the day I stepped on the playground. We’re both equally smart but teachers see him as charming while I’m the disruptor. The only real “advantage” I have is athletically. Gale was never interested in doing extracurriculars, but the 2 neighbours on our floor teach martial arts and REALLY like my mom’s cooking so I’ve been getting free Jujustu and Capoeira lessons since Elementary school. But I never really made friends in those classes so it’s always just been me and him.
Anyway a couple days after Gale’s 16th birthday he started acting wierd. He was spending less time with me, hanging out with other people and dodging the issue anytime I asked him about it. He was still friendly during school but anytime I wanted to hang out he’d say he couldn’t. I wasn’t angry, just concerned, especially since he’d been getting closer with a select few classmates who’d been especially ruthless when bullying me and often picked on him too. Eventually he relented and told me that his dad had volunteered to be the coach for the “Lacrosse team” and signed him up for practice every day after school and he had no say in it. I said it was fine and he didn’t need to hide that from me but he said he felt bad bc he couldn’t hang out as much.
I spoke with my mom about it and she said I should ask about joining the lacrosse team too if I really wanted to keep spending time with him, so I did. And it turns out the Lacrosse team was a LIE. Well it did exist, but they were using it as a cover. Turns out Gale’s dad was our city’s superhero (his name is “Tempest” and he has weather powers) and he’s been acting as his sidekick and leading some kind of young justice-esque teen supersquad with my 3 bullies. Btw, I only learned this AFTER I showed up to Lacrosse practice where I was ridiculed by them and Gale cut off our friendship entirely. Initially I was going to forgive him bc he kept giving me guilty looks at school and I figured he probably ditched me for my own safety. But then he told the bullies ABOUT MY DEAD DAD, apparently in an effort to get them to sympathise with me and leave me alone. This obviously didn’t work and now the entire school knows about my home situation and I’ve been the butt of so many hurtful jokes.
Anyway the only reason I found out Gale’s secret was because I was one of the civilians caught in the crossfire between their squad and his dad’s nemesis, some supervillain named “The Underking.” This Underking guy saved me from falling debris at some point, and I followed him back to his headquarters out of morbid curiosity. Initially he was furious and tried to get rid of me but then I learned that not only was this guy BEST FRIENDS WITH MY DAD, HE WAS THERE WHEN HE DIED AND IT WASNT AN ACCIDENT. Apparently the factory they worked at was destroyed by a supervillain, and when he went after him he learned that the guy was being paid so the building owner could commit insurance fraud. All the villains currently attacking the city were getting similar payments, and the Underking was masquerading as a bad guy to try and get in good with them and uncover who was behind it.
I begged him to let me help find out who killed my dad, and while he didn’t want to at first, I told him that I knew the secret identities of everyone in the hero squad that just defeated him and what their weaknesses were. He gave me this suit that gives me invisibility powers and now I’m an “intern” at city council because it turned out this guy was THE MAYOR.
I started this whole out of spite but working for him has actually been really nice? He’s become like a surrogate father to me; he tells me stories about my dad, his lackeys help me with my homework, and he’s been paying my mom’s rent. He’s encouraged me to put more effort into my martial arts classes; I actually started making friends with the other people there and now my mom has more money I can afford to go out and do nice things with them.
Gale, his dad, and my bullies all know I’m the Underking’s new sidekick causing mayhem around the city. I tried to hide it but I got tag-teamed a couple fights ago and they ripped my mask off. The Underking lost that fight but I sure didn’t! Seeing the fear in my bullies eyes when they realised the girl they’d been throwing in dumpsters can roundhouse kick with near-professional precision was the highlight of my week ngl. They’ve FINALLY stopped harassing me at school because of it.
Part of me still feels bad though, Gale told me that he never wanted to work with my bullies and wanted me on the team instead but his dad said no. Whenever we fight in the field it feels super personal, and he always looks super betrayed. A couple times he’s even begged me not to fight. I just can’t help but feel like he decided that being a superhero was more important to him than being my friend. But when I put it that way I feel selfish. AITA?
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Also in other news I'm about to start the fourth week into treatment out of eight. I found out my insurance lets me double up with that and a personal therapist so I scheduled one, soonest I could get was second week of July. I wanted to make sure I could have one to keep up the progress on myself once I'm out of treatment. That'll be once a week, assuming I'm okay with them. I'm not going to fall into the whole 'oh I can do once a month it'll be fine' thing again, especially since my insurance actually covers it
Most days of treatment I feel like I don't get much out of, but some days are particularly good or teach useful skills. The biggest help has just been for me to have to go somewhere every morning, stay there, and keep a schedule. The forced routine does a lot for me
Otherwise in July I'll be trying to do a little bit of Art Fight. I'm still trying hard to draw even if it's doodles. I'm biking about twice a week, taking photos outside. I'm about at the point where I should be looking at driver's permit test again, so I can practice starting in July or August
My daily medication I think is mostly working for me, but I think it caused my period to start almost a week early. I was really depressed yesterday and today and was wondering why I felt so crappy but it turns out I think the medication is messing with me and either is making the hormonal part of periods worse or just losing effect during it? I have no idea. This is my first period while on it so I don't have enough data. Most other days it seemed to be working well enough
But yeah. I'm trying to keep my head up. I know who I am and that I'm a good person and worthy of love, but I have problems I need to be continuously working on to live the life I want. So I'm taking those steps and trying my best, which is the most I can do
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Jewelry Business Insurance - arts insurance
In the vibrant realm of artistic expression, your jewelry creations are more than mere products; they are works of art. Jewelry business insurance recognizes and safeguards the artistic and financial value of your pieces, offering protection against a range of potential risks. Whether you operate a boutique studio, a retail store, or an online platform, this insurance provides a safety net that extends from the crafting bench to the display case.
Coverage typically includes protection against theft, damage, or loss of your valuable inventory, ensuring that your artistic investments are shielded from unforeseen circumstances. Additionally, liability coverage is designed to protect your business from potential legal claims related to your products or operations. As a jewelry artisan, you understand the meticulous craftsmanship that goes into each piece, and jewelry business insurance is there to preserve the passion and dedication you've invested.
Moreover, in a world where artisans engage with customers both in-person and online, this insurance provides peace of mind by covering potential risks associated with sales, exhibitions, and shipping. Whether your creations are on display at an art fair, in a gallery, or being shipped to a satisfied customer, you can focus on your craft knowing that your business is protected.
Choosing the right jewelry business insurance is an investment in the longevity and prosperity of your artistic venture. It's a testament to the recognition of the unique challenges faced by jewelry artisans, ensuring that your passion for creating beautiful and meaningful pieces is safeguarded against the unpredictable nature of the art and business world.
#fine art insurance#fine art insurance companies#fine art insurance coverage#jewelry and art insurance#fine art insurance brokers#artwork insurance#fine art insurance policy#best art insurance companies#fine arts coverage#fine art insurance quote#arts insurance#best fine art insurance
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Hello, Can I have a matchup please? From One piece! If not, that's totally fine!
Female, she/her, ExFJ 2w3, Leo I would prefer a guy!
I am pretty social however I prefer to spend time alone! I care about others a lot… To an unhealthy amount honestly but Im working on it! I love to help others and make them smile! :3 But I do wish I would get something for being so nice in return, yeah it might sounds greedy but I want to be appreciated! And get something nice haha, like just a compliement or something, when my helping and kindess gets unnoticed I might get upset because of how much tired I am and I just want to be a appreciated like I said before 😭 I wanted to be noticed and not ignored! I care too much what others feel and think and its tiring, I just want to be selfish sometimes and care about myself even if its sounds mean.
People call me funny! Well it all depends because everyone has different sense of humor! But I am most of the time unserious and I love to joke around, serious situations are stressful so I prefer to be joyfull, but I do like talking about serious topics (sometimes) Like I said before I love to make people smile and laugh with my jokes and overall with make them happy with presence. Its my job to make others happy <3 My humor is definitely not for everyone, its mostly humor of a 12 y/o kid which can be annoying to some people lmao (sometimes its funny how people are annoyed by it) and some other things depends on how I feel. When it comes to annoyence I also like to annoy people <3 its so fun! But I never want to make them really feel bad! Often I act like an asshole but this is just for jokes! (but sometimes I wanna be a real asshole lmao) Like I said I dont want them to actually feel bad, if I do, I will feel very guilty! When it comes to it I apologize A LOT, I apologize so much that it might too annoying but I always feel a sense of guilt inside of me. I'm also VERY sensitve and worry about everything. Ah and I'm pretty dumb and I am not trying to insult myself I am just silly hehe and I'm okay with that. Oh and Im clumsy 😭😭
I LOVE LOVE horror and scary things, I can't imagine my life without it, its just a such interesting genre that makes me happy and intrigued! I adore horror games and I'm mostly interested in them, however most of the time I am scared of playing them so I just watch gameplays and stuff like that haha. You can say I am obssesed with horror! (its funny because its easy to scare me haha) I also love cute things! Plushies, pink, clothes and other cute things! I just love it so much <3 I like games very much (I suck at them), art, anime, drawing and psychology! When it comes to music I love energetic ones! I dislike slow music but there can be some exceptions.
I dislike cooking (I love when someone knows to cook however I suck at it </3), stressful and serious situations (I stress a lot)
When it comes to looks I am around 156cm height, chin length hair with bangs, brown color eyes and I'm chubby!
Thank you so much and have a wonderful day!
Hello. Thank you for the matchup request. This one was a no brainer. There was really only one perfect match. I hope you like it!
You Got...
Monkey D Luffy!!!!!
You both have a great sense of humor and I think he would enjoy that he can laugh and joke with you.
He would be happy that you care about him and the rest of the crew. You may think it's too much, but he would think it is perfect.
He may not be able to cook, but he will get Sanji to do it for both of you.
Will insure you that you are awesome and that you don't need to apologize for anything.
Would dance with you to energetic music.
Every day with this boy would be fun!
I think he would enjoy horror movies and games. Would he be scared? No because he doesn't really understand it, but he would enjoy it.
Would want you to make drawing for on the ship. He would make you drawings too. They won't be the best, but it's the thought that counts right?
Overall, he will make you feel loved and will do anything that you enjoy. He wants to see you smile and laugh
Please do not copy, modify, translate or repost my writing on other platforms. Comments, reblogs and likes are highly appreciated!
#one piece#first division girl#one piece matchup#one piece matchups#op matchups#op matchup#character matchup
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Envenomation: a Sucy Manbavaran fanfic
Art by the wonderful Pili BlueBerry on Instagram!
Ao3 Link to Story, FFN Link to Story
Summary: Sucy Manbavaran wasn’t the most “open” person. Aloof most of the time, sarcastic the rest, and always sadistic, she knew a lot of people thought she was nothing but the scariest witch in the room, and she was more than happy to let them think so. But even witches like her had fears. Ones she never liked to think about, and ones that gave her nightmares that had become far, far too real.
Current Chapters: 5
Current Length: 67,092 words
Updates Monthly. Next update, January 2nd, 2024
Hello there! It’s been about four months since I promised to update this story. And it’s been just as long any story for that matter. Yeesh.
So, to give a TL;DR about why I’ve been gone and what took this chapter so long: my mom got into a car accident on like day before I was going to upload this, and while she was fine, dealing with insurance to cover the accident has been a nightmare. I had to take more shifts at my job and work more hours to cover the bills while dealing with them, but, eventually, I got them to fork over the money.
After like three months of that, I started editing the draft for this chapter, and there were certain things I didn’t like, and certain plot points I wanted to change, which led to a massive rehaul of certain scenes here. And then like in the second week of November, I got a really bad flu (surprisingly not COVID) that left me feeling like crap for the rest of the month, especially since I couldn’t take that many days of work, so I had to work while sick.
And this was all on top of dealing with the fact that the one year anniversary of my best friends death came and went, reminding me she isn't hear, and dealing with all the grief that brings.
So, that’s what I’ve been up to these last few months. And yes, that was the summarized version.
I’m really sorry for the delay. And I’m afraid I have some more bad news: because of how busy I’ve gotten at my job, I’m gonna have to move this story to a monthly release. Sorry, but I don’t want to sacrifice the quality of this story by giving out incomplete works just to meet a deadline that I can push back.
But anyway, I do hope this chapter was worth the wait. It’s quite long (over 21,000 words, the longest chapter to date!), and there was a lot of talking here, but trust me when I say there were certain moments here that heavily foreshadow key plot points for later down the line. Also, I did my best to make the dialogue, especially between the red team and Ursula, feel authentic to them as characters, as well as doing the emotional moments here justice, and I hope that it made for an enjoyable read. And now, I’m gonna work on the next chapter and try to get it out by January 2nd!
And with that, these notes come to a close. Don't hesitate to tell me what you liked and/or didn't like about this chapter!
#little witch academia#lwa#sucy manbavaran#lotte jansson#akko kagari#lwa jp#diana cavendish#envenomationlwa#lwa fanfic
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Robert Fraser in the Evening Standard, June 8 1967
Modern art: The currency between the financier and his son
This article appeared in the Evening Standard on June 8, 1967. It was part of a series on fathers and sons. Part 4 profiled the Fraser family, focusing on Lionel Fraser and Robert Fraser.
The entire article is transcribed below the cut.
A Name to Live Up To, by Tom Pocock
Modern art: The currency between the financier and his son
The rebel son being so essential a stock figure in family lore it would seem that Robert Fraser has all the qualifications of a particularly fine specimen. Seldom can the worlds of father and son have been in such stunning contrast and seldom can father and son have seemed, to outsiders, such opposites.
Robert Fraser is the son of the later Lionel Fraser.
At 29, Robert Fraser is founder and proprietor of the Robert Fraser Gallery in Mayfair, the most avant garde, far-out art gallery in London.
Currently, he is awaiting an exhibition by Mr. Andy Warhol, the American experimental artist, which, it can safely be forecast, will be unlike anything yet seen in an art gallery, or, possibly, anywhere else.
Mr. Fraser has suffered a lot of publicity recently having been fined £20 under the Vagrancy Act of 1838 for exhibiting “obscene” drawings and collages by the American artist Jim Dine, whose work is represented at the Tate.
Mr. Fraser was duly credited in Time magazine’s memorable discovery of swinging London. Mr. Fraser’s scene is one to make British squares close their ranks. His father, who died two years ago, was a man for whom the inescapable adjective was “distinguished.” Tycoon was too vulgar a word for Lionel Fraser. A financier, who made money-making seem like high diplomacy, he ranked high among the City’s royalty.
A self-made man (his father was butler to Gordon Selfridge, the department store emperor) Lionel Fraser carried himself as if born to wealth and position.
His influence in banking, investment trusts, insurance and industry came primarily through Helbert Wagg, the merchant bankers, Thomas Tilling, the industrial holding company and Babcock and Wilcox, the engineers, but his photograph—a dignified face, white hair and an immaculate bow tie—often appeared on City pages in connection with anything from publishing to cars, take-overs to mergers.
Tragedy
The Fraser family was, and is, conventional in a prosperous and intelligent way. Living In Belgravia and, like a surprising number of their like, Christian Scientists, the Frasers lived a contented life until touched by tragedy.
Ten years ago the only daughter, Janet, a beautiful, vivid girl, who, at the age of 21, had been secretary to Sir William Haley, then editor of The Times, was killed with her fiancé in a road accident. Then at 69, Lionel Fraser died.
Robert Fraser's mother and his brother, a stockbroker, continue to lead the lives to which they were accustomed. But not Robert Fraser.
Robert Fraser's quick, delicate person is so different from his father’s stately presence; his accent, Anglo-American; his conversation, stream-of-consciousness.
“Did I rebel? I never thought of that. I just do what I like doing. That's what everyone tries to do. I try to avoid doing things that I don’t like. Did my father influence me? I don't think that parents do have influences—the best parents don’t have influences. I might be influenced by ideas but not by parents. I never thought heredity plays a great part except that you react against it. It’s environment that matters.”
Robert Fraser was first sent to a Christian Science school but “could not get attuned to it. I feel religious but not interested in religion.”
Then to Eton, “which is better than anywhere else because it is eccentric. But English boarding schools are insane. Education is teaching but you are not taught. In 15 years learning Latin I never heard anyone stop and say: ‘This is a beautiful poem.’ I'm glad I was educated, but it would have been nice to have been taught."
But, by what Robert Fraser would put down as environment, his father did influence him. Lionel Fraser was a patron of modern art and, as a trustee of the Tate Gallery did, in his son’s view “much to improve that stale atmosphere. Many American cities have better collections and Americans who hear about the Tate go there and ask: ‘What’s it all about?’
The dust
“My father wanted the Tate to shake off the dust and tried to align it with the present. But this is not so much an indictment of the Tate as of England. In England it takes time to change things.”
After Eton, Robert Fraser went to New York and joined the art scene. Five years ago, he returned to London and, with his father's encouragement, opened the gallery in Duke Street. Then, says Robert Fraser: “London was very boring. Suddenly, around 1964, it was all happening. An eruption, you know. A social revolution.
“What the Beatles call The Beautiful People. These people—these young artists, writers and musicians—these people are the privileged class now. They used to have no voice. Now they are blowing off the dust.
“All this youth paraphernalia came from here. These people are original. These ideas are mainly coming from England. New York is sterile, uncreative, l mean, you go to the States— they have a fantastic industry for everything: machine-guns, cosmetics, Lichtenstein paintings. It’s an industrial thing. The English give them the idea and they make a thing of it.”
Robert Fraser thinks that his father would have understood and enjoyed 1967 scene. “He was a Victorian but the best of the Victorians were like really important business people today: they had imagination. My father's mixed with some very conventional people but he never belonged to them. He would never do things because they had been done before. The Victorians were like that before the calcification began. My father was one of the few people in this country who liked new things. Most people distrust new things.”
Balance
The obvious differences between father and son seemed less important. And as Robert Fraser talked he sounded less like an arbiter of the arts but more like an adventurous tycoon. “Art dealing the way l do it needs a fine balance of judgement. Most dealers buy something because they know they can sell it at a profit. I back my own taste. I show what I like.”
Robert Fraser refuses to have what he likes labelled “because people love to be able to pigeonhole things. I like to keep people on edge. Anything new is uncomfortable. I like people coming into the gallery to feel uneasy. A picture that makes you happy now may have made people acutely uncomfortable when it was first painted.'” Currently he is thinking of forms of art-dealing outside the gallery, something that he cannot yet define but obviously something of which Mr. Warhol would approve.
“As art widens its scope,” he says, “so must galleries.” The next move is the Warhol exhibition. After that, perhaps films. The Fraser imaginatlon roams farther and farther out.
The son of the discreet financier then reveals another of his father’s traits. “Some people who meet me say that they didn't know there was a person called Robert Fraser. But they still came to the Robert Fraser Gallery because they knew they'd find a certain kind of thing. I liked that.”
I suspect Lionel Fraser would have liked that, too. It is called reputation.
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like it would probably help if i ever actually talked about things anymore but see also: tired.
i've been out of work for a year. i was supposed to be able to take a break and then get back to it, but instead thing after thing that was more urgent priority and needed to be wrangled has happened. (this isn't isolated to me. by any stretch of the imagination.)
& the job hunt hasn't been great. the last interview i had was for mcdonalds and it went really well! but the gm was out of town and by the time they came back, the location had gotten more applicants. with prior experience. who got hired over me.
they still have the now hiring sign up. it was kind of a body blow to my ego but more importantly fed into the whole thing where -
i am struggling pretty hard with the recursive loop of untreated adhd making it like wading through hip deep cement to get anything - including and especially the things i desperately WANT to do and NEED to do to make any of this easier. get a job get insurance get meds. do paperwork get meds get job? - watch friends with more recent dx but usable insurance struggle to find providers get prescribed not just give up because they struggled their way into a stable place without help so what's even the point.
make art again. enjoy my hobbies again. which i have at least been actually functionally interested again?
partner has a good job and has been a godsend. we're much better off than we were a year and a few months ago, when i was the only one working. we consistently have rent covered, and money for food, the occasional action figure full of serotonin.
the schedule sucks (12 hour days dispersed out over a schedule that repeats every two weeks, rather than every week, and whether those 12 hours are 6am-6:30pm or 6pm to 6:30am switches every four weeks. it's predictable, just irregular, if that makes sense. we're currently on nights - well, i'm doing my best not to be, just adjusting the times for drop off and pick up. there ARE other shifts and teams available, buuuuuuu) uuuuuut the pay is amazing. by rights we should be fine all of the time, barring unforseen disaster. we're stable where we are -
it's just still a one bedroom shared with three people and two cats that is where none of us still want to be living.
we all need trips to the dentist. and follow up dental work. i need an eye exam and new glasses. i probably need to get my migraines more managed if i'm going to keep whatever job i do manage to get. the car needs headlights replaced and to investigate the horrible creaking noise when you are backing out in a turn. we should be doing a better job of trying to put anything into savings, but that's hard.
everything would be /just enough/easier with me bringing in any kind of income. possibly even better than good.
i've been beating myself up about this a lot.
i'm working on that.
i have an *incredible* team for support. my partner and my closest friend who i don't actually live with are both absolute rocks. patient as hell in all of this, but it's hard. willing to help me with getting things out & getting supplies acquired if i manage to get rolling on any one of multiple projects that are currently (finally) percolating. (my other close friends think i deserve to be able to have a break.) (i think that might be a middle ground.)
things ARE looking up. i'm still trundling ever forward and socially i'm so, so, so much happier and better off than i have been in a long time, it's just, y'know.
wading through slowly drying concrete is really, really hard. some days are better than others. things ARE going to improve, one stubborn step after another.
i'm just tired, man.
i'm tired.
i'll be okay.
(but i should probably go to bed.)
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This is anon from earlier. I didn't mention Laudna's role because you already had, and I interpreted Imogen as the only one inviting my unhinged input. I simply believed your big beautiful brain had tomes already covering the subject so I stepped back. In fact, Laudna is my #1 favorite CR charcter of all time to the point that talking about her makes me shy?? so even focusing on Imogen that much was probably a good exercise for me. I'm looking at a Dark Crystal art book on my shelf as we speak. The puppeteer concept owns my ass.
yeah that makes sense 👍 talk abt her more! shyness is not being sure if what u say is good or beautiful or funny enough or attention seeking whatever i tell u fuck it up!!!!! yell scream holler!!! this is not just abt laudna it’s midnight for me n im fucking pissed talk loud talk shit make weird art make crude jokes im sick of POLITE im sick of SOFT im sick of every weird thing being apologised for or hidden away loud n proud baby make weird art make weird characters try smth new be messy be in the moment try your best do it loud
anyway i hope i didn’t sound too rude before i was being a little bitch abt ppl not giving laudna enough attention but it wasn’t abt u specifically. here’s a snippet i wrote when i should have been working:
The show is going to be a fucking disaster.
Imogen hasn’t said those exact words out loud yet because if the actors hear her they’ll go into hysterics; she’s considering it still, despite that, because at the moment it feels like she either tells them they’re fucking stupid or she personally strangles someone. No one has learned their fucking lines, or their blocking—despite Orym diligently taping it out for them; FCG keeps trying to find a way to get the flamethrower into the show; the leading man and his understudy got into a fistfight—and Imogen still can’t figure out what the fight was about (except that Fearne was involved, of course), if Fearne encouraged it, and whether she needs to fire these guys or just give them a stern talking to—and as if all that weren’t enough, the set is falling to pieces. That wasn’t the troupe’s fault. Or Imogen’s. The moving company fucked it up on the move from storage when the theatre was getting repaired and after a very, very, very long back and forth, the theatre is going to get some kind reimbursement from the insurance but she doubts very much that the cash will make it to them in time for everything to be fixed by opening night. Basically, they’re fucked.
‘Why don’t we take five?’ Orym suggests, very quietly over his walkie. ‘I can hear you grinding your teeth from here,’ he jokes.
Imogen hopes it’s a joke. She tries to look for him but gives it up as impossible—most likely, he’s backstage or at Props and she can’t see him from her place in the third row. She relaxes her jaw. Rubs her temples for a second before fumbling for her walkie talkie.
‘Might as well. We could take twenty and it wouldn’t fix shit.’ Movement on the stage. Imogen looks over—and locks eyes with big, bright, hopeful eyes. She jams her finger onto the talk button of her walkie. ‘If FCG comes a step closer to me, I’ll kill ‘em.’
‘Roger that. I’ll send Ash to distract.’
Imogen drops heavily into the back of her seat. Scowls as she takes in the stage. She doesn’t notice actors throwing themselves bodily out of her line of sight.
Truth is, it’s going to be fine. There’s two weeks until dress rehearsal, and three until opening night, and—as it has with every show Imogen’s directed—it will come together. The actors will figure it out, maybe fumble a line or two. FCG can be handled, flamethrower drastically underpowered (or denied entirely, as is Imogen’s preference). Fearne…is Fearne. Still more talent than trouble, barely—which was really saying something, since she was maybe the most talented actor Imogen had ever met.
It’s the set that’s the real problem, the real reason Imogen hasn’t been able to sleep at night. Whenever she looks at it, her heart feels like it’s going to crack open. And every bright idea and directing cue she adds to make up for it is just a band-aid barely holding it together. It’s ridiculous to be so upset about it but…
Every year. Every year, the Bertrand Bell’s House of Entertainment, Leisure, and Luxury (most just call it the Bell Theatre) puts on Matilda & Delilah. It’s an old play and a crowd favourite for a reason—performers come and go, costumes change, sometimes a bold director changes the setting to something more modern, but it’s the set that keeps people coming back to see it, year after year. The tree. It’s the heart of the entire play. For Imogen, it’s the heart of the entire theatre. There wouldn’t be a Bell Theatre without it; there wouldn’t be an Imogen without it.
The tree is old and gnarled. One big piece that looms in the back of the stage—when the lights fall on it, just right, it is impossibly huge in the tiny little theatre. The shadow it casts stretches across the back curtain, branches twisting and grasping like crooked fingers, and every year Imogen lives for that moment when the lights shut off—all but the one behind the tree, and those same branches crawl out over the crowd. Menacing them. Trapping them. It’s dark and, when it’s done right, genuinely frightening.
But it’s broken. Half the branches snapped off, and the mechanism to wheel it up and down the stage busted. The cage doors won’t open either, and the colour has bleached in odd places. Imogen half-suspects the moving company hadn’t stored it at all. This wasn’t her tree at all, just some shoddy replica.
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