#i am aware there are 30 year olds that behave like children | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wheredidthepeepeego-mp3 · 2 years ago

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i want to preface this by saying i treat rape in big-budget media and rape in fanfic the *exact* same way.

i'm so tired let me write my fanfic in PEACE. I don't give a shit that i'm an "anti" for thinking children shouldn't be posting their coping rape porn online and i don't give a shit that I'm an "pro" for saying the majority of art should be preserved and not censored as long as you behave yourself. I'm not choosing some sort of imaginary label for being normal and paying my taxes aka: thinking nobody should be leaving heart eye emojis under graphic rape fiction that utilizes rape apologetics but ALSO thinking that nobody deserves to be harassed on either side and at the end of the day ITS NOT A BIG FUCKING DEAL. (i put that in bold so children with bad reading comprehension remember that more easily.) ITS NOT A BIG DEAL THIS WHOLE ARGUMENT IS STUPID AND CONTRIVED "i'm a minor so i would know" IF YOURE A MINOR THEN TAKE YOUR PORN OFF THE INTERNET. IT ISNT SAFE. RUB ONE OUT TO IT IN THE PRIVACY OF YOUT OWN ONE DIRECTION BEDSHEETS BUT NOT ON THE INTERNET WHERE ADULTS CAN LEAVE COMMENTS THAT SAY "❤️❤️❤️❤️ this one is so cute teehee" ITS NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT ITS CHILD INTERNET SAFETY. IT IS NOT A POLITICAL STATEMENT. i'm not calling anyone a pedo, or a groomer, or being homophobic or anti-kink. I'm *absolutely* not calling for censorship of anything. i hate censorship. i do not CARE that you are a rape survivor. i am too. i dont think your fanfic about sexual assault is causing rapes. i don't, I really don't. But most of these 13-14 year old children do not understand that while it's okay to have kinks and they are natural sexual expressions, you *have* to understand that treating rape like it's cute is *bad.* I'm very glad that rape is being more talked about but it's important to treat it with grace and respect. im breaking out the bold again: i have read and enjoyed graphic and disgusting rape fanfic. but it was fics that treated it respectfully, with grace, even if was graphic, or hell, pornographic. I see obvious rape culture rhetoric like "she was biting her lip so even though she said no her face said yes" being repeated in fics by kids and this isn't a "protect the kids" thing. this is an "im allowed to critiseze how media depicts my trauma without harrassment on either end" issue. call me homophobic (ive been gay longer than you peewees) but its an issue of rape apologetics not "censoring gay people." I am a VERY pro-kink person. but real life bdsm communities have been normalizing Safe, Sane, and Consensual for longer than you've known where babies come from. And "she was biting her lip so even though she said no her face said yes" without any context of it being SSC perpetuates this. im aware

Also, if you're in your 20s-30s, and you write porn of teenagers or kids (fictional or elsewhere), you're gross. If you act like you're an oppressed class for writing porn of kids, incest, or animals, you're gross! You're oppressed for being queer, not writing omegaverse pinecest- and yes, these things are mutually exclusive and it's gross to assume omegaverse pinecest or whatever is inherent to queerness. If you're in the "proshipper" community where there are lots of kids writing porn and you aren't posting your own porn on 18+ sites, you're gross. this should be common knowledge, but you're gross. im not commanding you to take your fic down or censor it, nor am i saying youre a pedo or groomer, im saying please direct your sexual thoughts about children in an appropriate place. As I said before: I'm pro kink. There are appropriate kinks for that, that you could write about non-children! If you write diaper fanfic about adults, good for you! If that's what gets you off, I'm very happy you've found your niche. But making porn of children isn't good. I understand fanfiction does not have the reach to make massive change on it's own. But so much of it has genuinely caused people to get stuck in these patterns of feeling ostracized for their kinks, then resenting "antis", then resenting anyone who looks like an "anti" then getting stuck in a bubble comparable to internet agoraphobia where the fictional kiddie porn that could have been weird but mostly harmless takes over them and their whole group chat's twitter accounts. They get fucking redfaced over antis raising critism over a disrespectful depiction of something *very* serious- rape and pedophilia.

i wouldnt have made this post and i wouldnt have even cared if other people weren't forcing me into some sort of box and straightup CALLING ME a proshipper or an antishipper to my digital face.

The bottom line: i don't care if you have a cnc fetish, need to cope with rape trauma, etc. I don't care if you write fanfic about it, I do too. I didn't get assraped on the disney cruise for nothin. I also don't want anything to be censored. But *please* remember Safe, Sane, and Consensual in your fanfic. Ultimately, just be respectful that you aren't perpetuating harmful ideas about real life rape, not cnc, being genuinely desirable. And remember to recover outside of the internet by spending time with your real life hobbies, friends, or most importantly: THERAPIST. And if you're therapist reccomends writing as a coping mechanism: awesome! Just make sure that when you post it online you 1. are not a child, 2. are not sexualising children, 3. you're keeping it respectful. If you keep respect in mind while writing media (I sure as hell do, and I'm no less satisfied with my fic) there wouldn't need to be a conversation about censorship in the first place. (not that im pro censorship)

Please reread this whole post before leaving a comment because your question is likely already answered.

EDIT: I forgot to mention but you can like something and still criticize it. I love bojack horseman but i don't like the way it handled adoption, for example. I've liked some cnc fics or fics about rape trauma and still liked the fic, but thought "Damn, they really could've worded that in a less victim-blamey way" or something along those lines.

#rape tw #rant

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that1nova · 4 years ago

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Get to Know my Characters.... Featuring Hanna Milton

I know most people are doing this as an ask game, but I haven’t started posting my story yet so I’m not sure if there is much interest in my girls yet, so I did it this way! One for Mollie coming tomorrow <3

01. What does your character’s name mean? Did you pick it for the symbolism, or did you just like the way it sounded?

“Hanna” means grace. Her mom wanted to name her Grace, but her dad didn’t like the name, so she went with Hanna.

I picked it by random generator as a placeholder, and normally after that I change their names when writing the actual story, but this one stuck.

02. What is one of your character’s biggest insecurities? Are they able to hide it easily or can others easily exploit this weakness?

Hanna is very insecure about what happened to her as a teenager. She is scared people will find out and treat her differently. She hides it very well.

03. What would be their favorite physical trait about themselves?

She loves her hair. It’s something she is always able to control about herself.

04. What are their favorite traits about their lover? (one psychological and one physical)

They are soft spoken and patient. || They have gorgeous skin.

05. Are they sexually confident or more of the shy type?

As she’s gotten older, she is pretty sexually confident.

06. Do they have any hobbies that their lover finds unusual, odd, or otherwise annoying?

Her significant other is very supportive of her hobbies, in all ways. Even if they don’t enjoy all of the same things.

07. Is there a catchphrase or sound that they tend to make a lot (likely without being aware of it)?

She says “look” a lot. As in “look, I was just saying…” or “look, there’s more to it than that.”

08. What is, perhaps, their biggest flaw? Are they aware of this or oblivious to it?

She still blames herself for her past. She’s very aware and goes to therapy, but it’s a struggle.

09. Do they have a favorite season? What about a favorite holiday?

She loves fall and Halloween, because it’s in fall.

10. Is your character more feminine or masculine?

Feminine

11. What is something that would make your character fly into a rage?

(redacted)

12. Is there some particular talent, skill, or attribute that they simply could not give up?

She loves teaching, and would feel incomplete without it.

13. What are your character’s sleeping habits? Heavy or light sleeper? Blanket stealer? One that always rolls onto the floor? Pushes their lover onto the floor? Sleep talker or walker?

She is a very light sleeper. Every little noise wakes her up. She has to sleep under a separate blanket from her significant other because she a) needs a weighted blanket and b) likes to burrito herself up to sleep.

14. Do they live alone or with family? How do they feel about their family/roommates?

She lives with her sister, and she’s very happy with the arrangement.

15. Is there a certain person in this world that they cannot stand? The very mention of this person’s name makes them tremble with anger or fear.

(redacted)

16. Is your character the athletic type or more of a couch potato? What are some sports/games that they like?

Athletic. She loves running.

17. Does your character have dreams of getting married and/or having children?

Yes, very much so. And hopefully soon.

18. What kind of home would they want to live in? Where would they place this abode?

She just wants to grow old in the home she grew up in.

19. Would your character be the kind to get into fights? (physical or verbal) Would they be a good fighter or cave in rather easily?

Hanna would never start a fight if she could avoid it…. But she would end it.

20. Does your character like animals? What are some of their favorite animals? Would they want pets? What about mythological creatures?

She’s obsessed with unicorns. And really wants a cat.

21. What is one of your character’s biggest fears? How would they react when dealing with this fear?

(redacted)

22. What kind of tattoos, piercings, birthmarks, freckles, and other such unique physical features do they have?

She got her father’s freckles, and has a tattoo on her arm.

23. What is your character like when it comes to school? What subjects are they good/bad at? Do they get in trouble a lot or are well behaved?

Hanna loved school. She was always disappointed when it was time to go home. She got straight A’s and was considered the “teacher’s pet.”

24. In their own words, how would your character describe what their lover is like?

“Amazing. Really, I couldn’t ask for better. It’s like… okay, imagine God made someone just for you. That person can see into your soul, can read your mind, knows all your fears, all your hopes and dreams. It’s like I found that person. And no way in hell am I gonna give them up.”

25. Is there something traumatic from your character’s past that greatly affects them even to this day?

(redacted)

26. What is their lover like sexually? How do they feel about their lover’s quirks, needs, etc?

Her significant other is pretty modest and shy about sex, at least in public. But Hanna is really good at getting them to relax and enjoy themselves in the moment. She does her best to attend to their needs in every way.

27. If your character was going to get arrested, what would be the most likely reason for it?

(redacted)

28. If your character became a celebrity, what would they be famous for?

Probably singing. She has an amazing voice, but she’s really shy about it.

29. What is one of the most courageous things your character has ever done for a loved one?

(redacted)

30. When it comes to the arts (music, film, theater, etc), what does your character like?

All of it, really. She loves going to see plays, she loves movies, and she enjoys singing in the car with the windows down.

31. Would your character be the kind capable of killing? Would they enjoy killing or only use it when necessary or, perhaps, refuse to kill no matter what?

(redacted)

32. If your character’s lover offered to take them out on a dream date, what would they want to do?

A picnic, followed by flying in a hot air balloon.

33. If your character wanted to be alone, where would they go?

The attic.

34. Does your character have favorite foods? (breakfast, lunch, dinner, dessert, snacks, etc)

She’s a sucker for oreos dipped in milk.

35. Is your character afraid of death? If they got to choose how to die, how would they want to go?

No, she’s not. But she’d still prefer to die an old lady in her sleep.

36. Does your character have any medical conditions? Are they serious or minor? Do they affect their day to day life?

Yes. She has depression and anxiety. She takes medication and sees a therapist, but she still sometimes struggles.

37. What are some of your character’s pet peeves? What are some things that annoy them or disgust them?

She can’t stand people popping bubble gum or chewing with their mouth open.

38. What kind of weather does your character like? Cloudy skies, rainy days, sunshine, etc?

Rainy days are always the best ones.

39. When people look at your character, is there some assumption they might make about them just by appearance? Is that assumption correct?

Yes, they might see her (redacted) and assume (redacted). They would be correct.

40. Does your OC have any guilty pleasures they enjoy? Hobbies, past times, music, etc that they wouldn’t want known by others?

She really loves General Hospital, but don’t tell her sister.

41. Does your character’s family affect your character in any way?

Absolutely. Her family made her what she is today.

42. Is there anything in your character’s past that they regret, haunts them, or they wish they could change?

Yes, absolutely. The (redacted)

43. Does your character have a switch that changes aspects of their personality whether they are around friends, family, etc. Is there someone who gets to see their true self?

Not really. Hanna is pretty true to herself all the time. But her significant other and her sister often see more of her vulnerability than most.

44. Is there a particular event that would emotionally devastate your character?

She couldn’t stand to lose her sister.

45. Is your character the kind to hide their true emotions or do they wear their heart on their sleeve?

A little of both, I think? She will tell you when something bothers her, but she won’t tell you just how much.

46. What is some random affectionate thing that your character always does to their lover?

Plays with their hair.

47. Is your character outgoing? Would they be the leader of the friend group, or the quiet one that gets dragged along?

The leader.

48. Is there anything in particular that would ignite your character’s jealousy? Or does your character not get envious?

She’s really not the jealous type at all.

49. What is something that your character has nightmares about? Are these frequent? Do they heavily affect your character’s mood?

(redacted)

50. If your character confessed love to their crush, boyfriend, girlfriend, etc, what would they say?

“Hanna, we’ve been dating for 5 years. I would hope you feel that way.”

#simblr #ts4 #hanna milton

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mickmarstookmyheart · 5 years ago

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Life's a Sick Joke pt 2

Pairing: Mick Mars x Reader

Would like to start from the beginning? Here is Part 1 !

Sidenote: As this story is under construction, I would like to warn you that those chapters which don’t have a proper title are written in the main caharcter’s POV!! Be aware!!! Be awaaare! I hope you will enjoy this storyas I did writing it, have a nice day and feel free to leave marks!

2. After-Meeting Party

"Hey Liz, you forgot your helmet! Don't dare to ride without it." Dylan threw it in your way and you caught it smoothly. You said goodbye to him and ran down the stairs, hoping not to meet any of your neighbors.

You packed your stuff into the bag of your motorbike. It was a beautiful, shining jet black chopper. You've worked your ass off to afford it, but it was way cheaper than a car. Perks, you can easily avoid traffic jams. It was just still February and all, but since you hate public transport, particularly people, you got your helmet on and pulled the leather jacket down your waist.

On your way to the meeting, plenty of things crossed your mind. Firstly, in a couple of months, you will be on the road and travel a LOT with Ozzy Osbourne as the opener group during 'Bark at the Moon' tour. Secondly, how should you behave with the boys and the other members of the staff? Should you joke with them or stay calm and silent and ignore all the witty sentences they will tell? And finally, Mick. You hoped he forgot that little chat between the two of you.

When you got there and finally found a parking lot. You took off your helmet and headed towards the building. Inside you took a look at the big clock and saw that you were half an hour earlier, but you didn't mind. Never have you ever been late from anywhere. I gave a look to that clerk from last time and confidently stepped in the elevator. When you got in front of the office door you hesitated a bit. When you stepped in you said a shy hello to the others who were already there. You sat down at the end of the table and started to read the papers on the desk.

"Hey, don't touch them! It's confidential." At the same moment, you dropped the papers and looked over the man in complete shock. You felt my face burn in embarrassment.

"Oh...I'm so sorry. I didn't know..." You tried to say a proper sentence.

"Just kidding, kid. Don't worry. Anyway, I'm Doc." He approached you and shook hands.

"(Y/N). Nice to finally meet you." You were smiling since you truly meant it. He already managed some bands you liked so much.

"Are you the new makeup artist?" He asked rubbing the back of his head guessing.

"Nope. I'm a photographer. I don't, more like I can't really do anything with makeup." You chuckled remembering your many attempts with make-up. You either ended like a clown or you never saw any difference.

"Ohh so you are the nerd one." Yaaay now they will call you The Nerd™. Cool. "Anyway, I read your CV. Nice qualifications. To be honest I expected an old, skinny man with a big mustache to be the photographer. But it's a pleasant disappointment."

"Thank you. I guess." You said after he left you there.

After he left the room, you let your hair loose and fix it a bit due to the helmet completely ruined it. The only body part you adored was your hair. Well, your hair, generally in the family. All the three of you and your bitch mother had silver, almost platinum white hair.

10 am. Finally. Everybody was present except for the four musicians. Nothing really happened, just discussed things which relate to the staff.

10:30 am. The door opened and the dark knight himself entered the meeting. You tried to avoid eye contact with him so you entertained yourself by the color of the wall and the long, shining glass table in front of you.

"I am sorry." Mick apologized and shut the door after himself. So he is the only one who attended the meeting. Nice.

"So, your interview went well I see." He whispered in your ear as he sat down next to you. Next to you. There were plenty of other seats available, but he had to sit down right there. Yay. Becoming invisible mission failed.

"Yeah...I was surprised, too." You said blushing.

You tried my best, really. You tried to concentrate on the meeting and jot down important information, but every time Doc joked and Mick chuckled or laughed you completely lost control. You always felt his eyes on you. It was frustrating. You cleared your throat more than once as a sign for him to look away but he didn't get it or just didn't want to. Doc started to write on the board the important concert dates and so did you.

"Shouldn't we wait until the boys come?" You chuckled. A girl asked who was sitting in front of you. She was a rookie, too if you had to guess.

"It's very unlikely to happen, dear. They are rockstars and they do whatever they feel like." Doc sighed continuing on the board.

"You know I'm sitting here, right?" Mick asked in a serious tone. Everybody cracked up, including me.

"If you really want to see them, check them at the after-meeting party." Doc told the girl.

"After-meeting party?"

You whispered to Mick.

"Yep. You coming?" He asked leaning closer. His breath was doing things to you.

"I don't know. Maybe. Although, I can't really drink, and party without alcohol isn't a party."

"And what if I won't drink either? That would be fair, right?" He offered in a very dangerous tone, it gave you goosebumps.

"Ohh I can't expect it from you. It's a party overall!"

"I want to be sober when I'm talking to you. I want to remember everything you say and tell me." Your heart skipped a beat.

At the party

"Hey, Mick!!! We didn't expect you to be hereeeee!!" Nikki yelled as he, Tommy, and Vince entered the party. They were all drunk as hell but trying to act sober. You and Mick were sitting at the bar drinking juice and water. Shame.

"Fuck. I didn't know what I was missing. These morons." He placed his face in his hands. Somehow you felt a sudden urge to touch his shoulder to comfort him, but you didn't have the guts to do so.

"And who is this?" The boys approached you and stopped in front of you. Vince eyed from head-to-toe and was grinning. "Nice to meet you, dear. I'm Vince Neil, the singer, and leader of this band."

"Vince, you are the lead singer, not the leader. It's not the same, man." Nikki corrected Vince.

"(Y/N)." He held your hand and placed a kiss on the top of it.

"My lady." Mick just rolled his eyes. You were afraid he might eye-roll himself into another dimension.

"And (Y/N)....what?" Tommy asked curiously.

"I'm sure she is (Y/N) Sixx cause I will fucking marry her, man!" He and his terror twin high-fived while you and Mick just shared a look.

"Wow. That was so original. You don't have better pickup lines?" You asked pulling one of your eyebrows at him.

"Hey, that was good. As me." He winked and with that, he just walked away pretending to be offended.

"I'm Tommy. Tommy Lee. And I really would like to know your surname!! Is it embarrassing or what?" He snickered.

"Well if you look me with those puppet eyes of yours I'm gonna tell ya. My name is (Y/N) Cooper." You sighed and waited for the reaction. Tommy was wide-eyed and already turned towards his bandmates.

"Hey Sixx, Vinnie! This is Alice Cooper's daughter!" You facepalmed since you already knew this will happen. A bunch of idiots.

"No, man. This is the reason I didn't want to tell it. Because you, fucking teenagers will immediately think that I'm a relative of Alice Cooper!!" You snapped and now completely understand Mick's thoughts about them.

"Chills, dude. I'm leaving." Lee held his hands up in defense and left you there with Mick.

"Fucking teenagers" is my line." Mick spoke up after they all left.

"You need to copyright it sometime."

∆Still at the party∆

"So I already know that you like taking pictures. Tell me your story!" You were now on the balcony which was much quieter and peaceful them downstairs. You finally convinced Mick to drink something even if you couldn't. He had a bottle of beer in his hands and was gesturing with it.

"I don't really know what to tell. What do you want to know?" You asked while taking a sip from your water. Water at a party. You couldn't believe it either.

"Well, do you live near here? Children?" He paused for a second. He looked at you from the coach. "Husband?" You smiled at the last question.

"Woah, Woah, Woah. Hold on! One question at once! I can't even remember them. Well, if you really want to know we live 30 minutes from here. We moved here at least four years ago."

"With whom?" He asked while he slowly stood up and leaned on the railing of the balcony beside you.

"With my brother and sister. Woah, now just with my brother, cause Isabelle went to uni. And for that husband topic...I haven't really had any proper relationship, there were mostly jerks, dumps, and idiots, in that order." You looked down and laughed at how miserable you were with relationships. "Also looking after my sister and sometimes my brother is just like having a baby." He chuckled. "And what about you?"

"I have a sister, called Susie and three..."

"Brothers?" You asked back not letting him finish his sentence. Mick already regretted intending to mention his children so it was a good come out.

"Yeah, sure." He said before taking a sip of his booze. He stood closer to you so his shoulder was touching yours. Mick met many girls during his life who were pretty and kind, but when he saw you in the office acting nervous, he knew you will completely turn upside down his whole life.

You hummed from the slight touch and leaned your head on his shoulder. You were admiring the view of the city night and the peaceful quiet. Then something crossed your mind like thunder during a storm.

"Holy shit." You cursed thinking he will kill you.

"What is it?" Mick asked worryingly.

"I forgot to call him, my brother. He will kill me. Sorry, but I gotta go."

"Okay, I will wait here." Mick sighed and thought he fucked it up this time. Maybe this touch and personal questions just scared you away. You headed towards the phonebooth downstairs. You felt terrible leaving Mick there all alone, but your brother must be worried sick, not knowing a thing about you.

You found a phone in the kitchen which was not that quiet. Cool. It ranged at least a million times until he picked it up.

"What kind of meeting lasts for more than 3 hours? I worried sick. Where are you?" He ranted on the phone. He was pretty angry.

"I'm so sorry, Dylan. Time just flew. Currently, I'm in a house party near to the office. It's a so-called after meeting party. Sounds ridiculous, I know." You smiled on the phone.

"Sure, it does. But you aren't drinking, are you? I hope you remember...that thing."

"Yeah I remember and you don't have to remind me all the time. And I'm sober. Anyway, Mick is asking of you."

"So...becoming invisible mission failed?"

"It fucking did."

"Who are you talking to, my dear?" A strangely familiar voice echoed from your back so you turned around. Vince. Dear Satan give you enough strength to handle him.

"Hey, Dylan I have to go, but I will set off soon, I promise. See ya later." And without waiting for his respond you hung up. After putting back the phone you glared at him, not in a mood for his attempts.

"What do you want, Vince?" You asked while heading back to poor Mick.

"Just a kiss from a rose." He stepped in front of you and put his fingers under your chin.

"No way, man! You are wasted and I'm not enough wasted to kiss you. So, please let me go." You wanted to walk beside him back to Mick, but he grabbed your wrist and pulled closer to him. Mick went back to the room and was about to leave this party since he supposed you weren't coming back. It was too long now for just a telephone conversation.

"It's just a kiss. From me. From the fucking lead singer of Mötley fucking Crüe." He whispered in your ear.

"But asshole, I don't give a damn of who you are. And get your hands off me!" You were about to walk away but he crushed his lips on yours. You immediately moved away and punched him in the face. He fell to the floor and held his hand on his face.

"You BITCH! You hit me!!" You stood there in complete shock, not believing what you just did. Everyone was staring at you. Your hand hurt like hell and you just wanted to be somewhere else.

"I'm so sorry. I should...go." You ran out of the bar and got on your bike.

"Hey, (Y/N)! Please wait!" Mick yelled from the door and was approaching you. "Where are you going?"

"Didn't you see what I did? I punched Vince. Actually, he is my boss. I fucked it up." You sighed and was gripping the hand clutch so strong your hand was already white.

"In that case, I'm your boss, too. And what did he do? I just saw that he is on the floor and you are running out."

"He...he tried to kiss me. I told him to stop and go away but he didn't. And after all, he did it and I got furious and hit him." You took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. Mick didn't know what to think at first, he was just amazed at how badass you were and angry as hell about Vince.

"Don't worry. He is so drunk he won't even remember it in the morning." Mick tried to chill you down.

"Are you sure? But what Doc will think? He is angry I guess..." You murmured.

"I think he didn't even notice it. And he won't care if Vince will go to him and cry like a girl who just broke her nails."

You chuckled. He stepped closer and you hugged him. You didn't know why you just needed someone to comfort you. He didn't move for a second. Later he hugged you back and rubbed your back. Mick wanted that moment to last forever, though it felt like a minute. Your strong grip, your smell and your hair in his face were just perfect. You were just perfect.

"Thank you for always being there when I need the most." You wiped your tears away and felt awkward." Sorry, this might sound strange." You sniffed.

"Hey, it's okay and I understand." A long pause and awkward silence. "So is this your bike? It looks badass." He took a look at your bike.

"Yap, it's mine. And thanks. I worked a lot to get it. But it worthed." You looked in the distance for a while. You thought about Vince and that you may have to look for a new job and had to leave Mick.

You screwed it up.

Next chapter

Tags: @cmft-jr-winchester @leatherandheels

#mick mars x reader #mickmars #motley crue #mötley crüe #nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #'80s #'80s music #motley crue imagine #mick mars imagine #motley crue x reader #glam rock #life's a sick joke

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thejosh1980 · 4 years ago

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Update #21 – 1 week at “The Ocean Shores Resort”

A week ago we left quarantine in Adelaide!!!

It's been another week of mixed emotions, but I have to say, for the first time in months, they've been mostly on the positive side of things.

Last Tuesday, we left the hotel without too much hassle. They'd given us a basic breakfast the night before to have first thing and they called us down early; luckily we were ready and down the stairs we went. Before you know it, we were in the hotel reception taking our masks off!

Adelaide and South Australia are COVID free, so no masks, no problems.

The checkout was quick (the big bill comes in a few weeks!!), the staff were awesome and the police informative. They all understand that quarantine is not easy on anyone, and they were patient with our questions and worries. We had won the jackpot of quarantine hotels: Pullman Adelaide and the staff helped make our stay tolerable.

Jumped in a taxi (with masks on cause we really weren't sure yet how to behave in the outside world) and off to the airport. We had to leave the hotel by 07:30, because another bus of incoming “Covicts” were coming in that morning. Our flight was at 11:50 up to Brisbane, so it was yet another waiting game to check in and fly. But first... coffee! (we actually bought a coffee from a coffee shop! Amazing!! It's the small things...).

The flight was about about 2/3's full, no masks.

Landing in Brisbane we had to do a border check, show our papers, explain where we had been and all that. The check was there to stop anyone who may have COVID from coming in without quarantining. Each State has slightly different rules, and they do change from time to time, depending on hotspots and COVID numbers. Because the flight was from Adelaide and we left the hotel directly to the airport, we made sure we had no problems entering Brisbane (Queensland). We definitely didn't want any chance of another 14 day hotel stay!!!

Our original plan was to fly into the Gold Coast airport, which is only about 35 minutes from Mum, but there were no flights on our leaving day, so we had to fly into Brisbane (which is 2 hours from Mum's). My cousin picked us up (bloody legend!). We were hungry, and we went directly to Yatala pies. This was the moment I started to realize we were almost home. The taste of home! (Yatala Pies is a well known bakery south of Brisbane, a regular stop for many).

My cousin could drive us as far as the QLD/NSW border. Once there, we walked across the border and Dave picked us up on the other side. A little complicated, but sure enough, the plan worked.

The whole experience felt like something out of the movies. Not that it was all “Hollywood”. It was more like: I can't believe this is finally happening. I wasn't really in the moment. Yet.

As we were getting close to “The Ocean Shores Resort” (which is the name we have for my Mum's house) I still didn't feel calm...

Anyhow, we arrived, and if you've seen our IG or FB Story on the day, you'd know that when I knocked on the front door, we had actually surprised Mum (a little early), and she couldn't find the front door key to let us in!! So our reunion started off with a scream and eventually a laugh!!

Mum did cry, but we all expected her to cry more... ;) Honestly, I think we both had cried too much the past 2 months, it was no longer needed. It was all about joy and happiness.

After meeting and hugging Alex (some more tears) we entered the house to find Mum had a “welcome home” sign and our picture up on the walls (lots of me and Alex, can't go wrong with that!!).

It was surreal.

A quick house tour for Alex and we settled down. Lots of chatting and catching up to do, and a roast dinner!

We'd made it.

The next morning (Wednesday), a son's work is never done and I was up early to take Mum to school. She's part of the support unit inside the primary school, working with kids with Autism.

Even though her eyesight is deteriorating, Mum can still work. Driving a car; that's out of the question. Reading the “use by date” on a packet of chips is almost impossible. Keeping an eye on children in the playground, developing their social skills or helping them with their school work (considering the text is usually quite large and the pictures bold) Mum can still do really well.

I've learnt she has figured out ways to cope with her eyes. She has a great memory, so once she's told something, she can remember it really well (like recipes for cooking etc). She's still a keen bargain hunter when it comes to shopping. I enjoy learning that she's kept her life as close to “normal” as possible, making small changes to the bigger things to keep her independence.

But it's those small things that are hard to do alone, which is why I'm here...

After dropping Mum off, Alex and I spent the morning of our first full day in Brunswick Heads. This is the town I lived in from the mid 80's until late 90's. I went to primary school here, learned to surf here, and know the old names of the shops (the hair dressers is now a surf shop, the butcher's is a cafe, the ice cream shop is a real estate agent and the bank has recently closed). Lots of changes for me, lots of new things for Alex.

We also went down to the beach, the south wall of the Brunswick River, where the river meets the ocean. We watched some waves. Taking in the salt air (I don't think I ever realized how salty the air is here until now).

It was a relaxing day.

But I still wasn't quite “here” in my head and heart. Leaving Dresden back in July, only to be delayed for 7 weeks, then another 2 weeks in quarantine, was going to take sometime to overcome.

Time to pick up Mum from school... Home... Unpack a little, dinner, chatting and a little TV.

Thursday morning, it was time for another radio interview. To finish off the 3 part story with ABC North Coast Radio I did another live interview with Joanne Shoebridge. I'm always nervous doing these kinds of things, even though in the music world, I've had to do interviews, they were never quite as personal as this.

After we dropped Mum off at school Thursday morning, we drove up to the Cape Byron Lighthouse and luckily got a park up close to the top.

I wanted to introduce Alex to the area as much as I could, without overwhelming her. Brunswick Heads, Ocean Shores, Mullumbimby and Byron Bay all played a big part of my childhood, and I wanted her to at least know these villages a little bit as early as possible. We'd covered Brunswick Heads and Ocean Shores a little, so now it was time for Byron Bay.

Bring on the whale watching!!

Within minutes of leaving the car, we could see whales jumping out and swimming around the cape. It was a wonderful morning. I'm so glad Alex got to see them (in fact I can't remember the last time I saw whales so close to the shore). They migrate each year around September/October, so it was perfect timing.

It was a special day for Alex...

The sun was shining, the whales were in plain sight and the tourists were kind enough to stay away from Byron Bay. COVID does have its benefits. Fewer people in these tourist spots isn't always bad (although I am quite aware the economy is suffering. The borders are opening up next week and it'll be very busy then).

Back into Ocean Shores, picked up Mum from school. Home... Dinner.. Chatting... Some TV...

Friday was the first day we had to do “stuff” in regards to living here permanently, and that was banking. So after dropping mum off at work, we drove into Mullumbimby “The Biggest Little Town In Australia”. I went to high school here.

Basically Brunswick Heads and Mullumbimby are like Neustadt in Dresden. You can't walk down the street without seeing someone you know, stopping and chatting. It happened in Brunz the other day, I literally parked my car, and lo and behold an old high school friend came out of the video store to say hi... Or in Mullum, as we arrive at the bank I see an old friend who used to teach me rock n roll dancing (yeah, I can still cut a rug)... and even inside the bank, I said hi to a fella from my high school year, we hadn't seen each other since 1997.

It's a small world...

The banking took a bit longer than expected, after much back and forward we settled on our new bank accounts and how to arrange things going forward. While I've had an account here since I was very very young, I cancelled most of my stuff when I left in 2002, so now it was time to set up shop again, especially since I had my wife with me and we have a future to work towards...

We walked the street of Mullum, grabbed a coffee and we let the country hippy vibe soak in. Alex commented on how many folks don't wear shoes here and she can't believe how many new coffee shops there are for her to try (there's a lot more than when I was a kid).

Picked up Mum from school... School holidays for 2 weeks! Yippeee!!

Home... Dinner... Chatting... some TV...

Over the weekend we sorted out things around the house. Set up better internet Wifi around the house, the pool is in good condition after the winter sleep, cupboards got cleaned out and we unpacked and the car was washed (first time I've hand washed a car in over a decade!).

Sunday I watched Mark's live stream (from his front porch in upstate New York) and I felt inspired (he does that to me). So I am considering live streaming next week. I have a guitar and good internet, so why not? I just have to find time to practice ;) I'm thinking net Sunday evening here, which would be Sunday lunch time in Germany. If I don't get to it this Sunday, then maybe next Sunday... I'll keep you posted.

Overall the weather has been warm, often over 20 degrees. But the mornings are still quite chilly, with frosty dew on the golf course out back. It's not bad for coming out of winter...

Today, Monday, we went “up the coast”, to Tweed Heads.

First thing we tried to exchange my German license for a mandatory NSW (State) license, unfortunately I gotta wait for some back checks, no idea what I did 19 years ago in Melbourne, but they wanna check it out. So onwards to shopping...

Yes!!! We bought a coffee machine! Finally we can wake and with a press of a button get ourselves a cup of joe. It's the small things....

Helped mum with the grocery shopping. She knows her stuff. She knows where everything is in every shop, but sometimes she just needs me to reassure her what is actually written on the box or package!!!

So that's basically our first week...

We are settling in well. Alex and Mum get on like a house on fire. I often can't get a word in edgewise and I'm always outvoted!

I still miss Germany and I still miss Europe... (I always will). I miss a lot of the “past life”, but that's just cause Australia has moved on without me these past 18 years. Each day here I get a little closer to that homey feeling I used to have as a teenager (when I didn't know better).

In hindsight, the past 3 months wasn't too bad... We survived... But that's easy to say now...

When we were in the middle of it, it was really tough.

It was really hard packing up our lives into boxes. It was emotionally draining saying goodbye after goodbye to our wonderful friends. Playing my goodbye show was one of the musical highlights of my life, even if it was one of the saddest.

Then we were ready to leave...

As you all know, that didn't go according to plan.

That's when the really bad feelings crept in. You know it's one thing to know you gotta pack up and say goodbye to leave (you are prepared for that)... It's another when you're ready and the world says “nope, not yet”... and again and again that build up and let down was happening, and until the last 2 weeks in Germany, we had no idea why!

As some of you know, I'm not really good at spontaneity. I'm not good when the plan changes... It was tough... But...

When we took control of the situation and booked new flights, it helped a lot. We were back in control.

Quarantine was a difficult time, it got a little dark there. It brought with it, it's own set of challenges and a steep learning curve. I, for one, learnt a lot about pressure. I put too much pressure on myself. Since we arrived here, I have tried my best to relax more, in my own way at least. My to do lists are shorter...

Alex and I had already figured out how to survive the German lockdown, the packing up of our lives and clearing out the apartment. Then we had 2 months at her parents stuck in “limbo” and then 2 weeks stuck in a room together. Our marriage is really new, and we survived that without any damage to our relationship. Sure, we both have a few personal scars, but nothing a little love and tenderness wont fix. I'm proud of her, Alex has a lot of patience for me!

I'm really happy I am here to help Mum each day. Those small things will slowly become bigger things, but for now, it's great to be able to do “stuff” with her. That was always the plan, to be here in time, before things got really bad.

We've been posting often on our IG and FB stories, so I hope folks have seen the day to day happenings. I'm sure we'll continue with that, keeping you up to date visually.

I think I'll end these FB journals here, and switch over to Tumblr full time. The idea being that if you'd like to continue to read these long “new life” chronicles, I'll still post a link here when I do update there... Confused? Me too! ;)

Thanks everyone for your messages of support and love. We are very lucky, we have the best friends.... You guys rock! You're awesome! We love you.

Love

Josh and @dauntlesscoffee

#travelblog #australia #byron bay #whale watching #coming home #covid

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phroyd · 6 years ago

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This brilliant researcher supports a theory that vindicates important Feminist Thought, but removes some hopeful biological validation of the pre-adolescent Transgender rationale! And she is totally correct, there IS No Gendered Brain! - Phroyd

You receive an invitation, emblazoned with a question: “A bouncing little ‘he’ or a pretty little ‘she’?” The question is your teaser for the “gender reveal party” to which you are being invited by an expectant mother who, at more than 20 weeks into her pregnancy, knows what you don’t: the sex of her child. After you arrive, explains cognitive neuroscientist Gina Rippon in her riveting new book, The Gendered Brain, the big reveal will be hidden within some novelty item, such as a white iced cake, and will be colour-coded. Cut the cake and you’ll see either blue or pink filling. If it is blue, it is a…

Yes, you’ve guessed it. Whatever its sex, this baby’s future is predetermined by the entrenched belief that males and females do all kinds of things differently, better or worse, because they have different brains.

A neuroscientist explains: the need for ‘empathetic citizens’ - podcast

“Hang on a minute!” chuckles Rippon, who has been interested in the human brain since childhood, “the science has moved on. We’re in the 21st century now!” Her measured delivery is at odds with the image created by her detractors, who decry her as a “neuronazi” and a “grumpy old harridan” with an “equality fetish”. For my part, I was braced for an encounter with an egghead, who would talk at me and over me. Rippon is patient, though there is an urgency in her voice as she explains how vital it is, how life-changing, that we finally unpack – and discard – the sexist stereotypes and binary coding that limit and harm us.

For Rippon, a twin, the effects of stereotyping kicked in early. Her “under-achieving” brother was sent to a boys’ academic Catholic boarding school, aged 11. “It’s difficult to say this. I was clearly academically bright. I was top in the country for the 11+.” This gave her a scholarship to a grammar school. Her parents sent her to a girls’ non-academic Catholic convent instead. The school did not teach science. Pupils were brought up to be nuns or a diplomatic wife or mother. “Psychology,” she points out, “was the nearest I could get to studying the brain. I didn’t have the A levels to do medicine. I had wanted to be a doctor.”

A PhD in physiological psychology and a focus on brain processes and schizophrenia followed. Today, the Essex-born scientist is a professor emeritus of cognitive neuroimaging at Aston University, Birmingham. Her brother is an artist. When she is not in the lab using state-of-the-art brain imaging techniques to study developmental disorders such as autism, she is out in the world, debunking the “pernicious” sex differences myth: the idea that you can “sex” a brain or that there is such a thing as a male brain and a female brain. It is a scientific argument that has gathered momentum, unchallenged, since the 18th century “when people were happy to spout off about what men and women’s brains were like – before you could even look at them. They came up with these nice ideas and metaphors that fitted the status quo and society, and gave rise to different education for men and women.”

Rippon has analysed the data on sex differences in the brain. She admits that she, like many others, initially sought out these differences. But she couldn’t find any beyond the negligible, and other research was also starting to question the very existence of such differences. For example, once any differences in brain size were accounted for, “well-known” sex differences in key structures disappeared. Which is when the penny dropped: perhaps it was time to abandon the age-old search for the differences between brains from men and brains from women. Are there any significant differences based on sex alone? The answer, she says, is no. To suggest otherwise is “neurofoolishness”.

Plasticity is now a scientific given – the brain is moulded from birth onwards until old age

“The idea of the male brain and the female brain suggests that each is a characteristically homogenous thing and that whoever has got a male brain, say, will have the same kind of aptitudes, preferences and personalities as everyone else with that ‘type’ of brain. We now know that is not the case. We are at the point where we need to say, ‘Forget the male and female brain; it’s a distraction, it’s inaccurate.’ It’s possibly harmful, too, because it’s used as a hook to say, well, there’s no point girls doing science because they haven’t got a science brain, or boys shouldn’t be emotional or should want to lead.”

The next question was, what then is driving the differences in behaviour between girls and boys, men and women? Our “gendered world”, she says, shapes everything, from educational policy and social hierarchies to relationships, self-identity, wellbeing and mental health. If that sounds like a familiar 20th-century social conditioning argument, it is – except that it is now coupled with knowledge of the brain’s plasticity, which we have only been aware of in the past 30 years.

“It is now a scientific given,” says Rippon, “that the brain is moulded from birth onwards and continues to be moulded through to the ‘cognitive cliff’ in old age when our grey cells start disappearing. So out goes the old ‘biology is destiny’ argument: effectively, that you get the brain you are born with – yes, it gets a bit bigger and better connected but you’ve got your developmental endpoint, determined by a biological blueprint unfolding along the way. With brain plasticity, the brain is much more a function of experiences. If you learn a skill your brain will change, and it will carry on changing.” This is shown to be the case in studies of black cab drivers learning the Knowledge, for example. “The brain is waxing and waning much more than we ever realised. So if you haven’t had particular experiences – if as a girl you weren’t given Lego, you don’t have the same spatial training that other people in the world have.

If, on the other hand, you were given those spatial tasks again and again, you would get better at them. “The neural paths change; they become automatic pathways. The task really does become easier.”

Neural plasticity throws the nature/nurture polarity out of the lab window. “Nature is entangled with nature,” says Rippon. Added to this, “being part of a social cooperative group is one of the prime drives of our brain.” The brain is also predictive and forward-thinking in a way we had never previously realised. Like a satnav, it follows rules, is hungry for them. “The brain is a rule scavenger,” explains Rippon, “and it picks up its rules from the outside world. The rules will change how the brain works and how someone behaves.” The upshot of gendered rules? “The ‘gender gap’ becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

Rippon regularly talks in schools. She wants girls to have leading scientists as role models, and she wants all children to know that their identity, abilities, achievements and behaviour are not prescribed by their biological sex. “Gender bombardment” makes us think otherwise. Male babies dressed in blue romper suits, female ones in pink is a binary coding that belies a status quo that resists the scientific evidence. “Pinkification”, as Rippon calls it, has to go. Parents don’t always like what they hear.

The brain is a rule scavenger and it picks up its rules from the outside world

“They say, ‘I have a son and a daughter, and they are different.’ And I say, ‘I have two daughters, and they are very different.’ When you talk about male and female identity, people are very wedded to the idea that men and women are different. People like me are not sex-difference deniers,” continues Rippon. “Of course there are sex differences. Anatomically, men and women are different. The brain is a biological organ. Sex is a biological factor. But it is not the sole factor; it intersects with so many variables.”

I ask her for a comparable watershed moment in the history of scientific understanding, in order to gauge the significance of her own. “The idea of the Earth circling around the sun,” she bats back.

Letting go of age-old certainties is frightening, concedes Rippon, who is both optimistic about the future, and fearful for it. “I am concerned about what the 21st century is doing, the way it’s making gender more relevant. We need to look at what we are plunging our children’s brains into.”

Ours may be the age of the self-image, yet we aren’t ready to let the individual self emerge, unfettered by cultural expectations of one’s biological sex. That disconnect, says Rippon, is writ large, for example, in men. “It suggests there is something wrong in their self-image.” The social brain wants to fit in. The satnav recalibrates, according to expectations. “If they are being driven down a route that leads to self-harm or even suicide or violence, what is taking them there?”

On the plus side, our plastic brains are good learners. All we need to do is change the life lessons.

How gender stereotypes led brain science

Research so far has failed to challenge deep prejudice, says Gina Rippon

Several things went wrong in the early days of sex differences and brain imaging research. With respect to sex differences, there was a frustrating backward focus on historical beliefs in stereotypes (termed “neurosexism” by psychologist Cordelia Fine). Studies were designed based on the go-to list of the “robust” differences between females and males, generated over the centuries, or the data were interpreted in terms of stereotypical female/male characteristics which may not have even been measured in the scanner. If a difference was found, it was much more likely to be published than a finding of no difference, and it would also breathlessly be hailed as an “at last the truth” moment by an enthusiastic media. Finally the evidence that women are hard-wired to be rubbish at map reading and that men can’t multi-task! So the advent of brain imaging at the end of the 20th century did not do much to advance our understanding of alleged links between sex and the brain. Here in the 21st century, are we doing any better?

One major breakthrough in recent years has been the realisation that, even in adulthood, our brains are continually being changed, not just by the education we receive, but also by the jobs we do, the hobbies we have, the sports we play. The brain of a working London taxi driver will be different from that of a trainee and from that of a retired taxi driver; we can track differences among people who play videogames or are learning origami or to play the violin. Supposing these brain-changing experiences are different for different people, or groups of people? If, for example, being male means that you have much greater experience of constructing things or manipulating complex 3D representations (such as playing with Lego), it is very likely that this will be shown in your brain. Brains reflect the lives they have lived, not just the sex of their owners.

Seeing the life-long impressions made on our plastic brains by the experiences and attitudes they encounter makes us realise that we need to take a really close look at what is going on outside our heads as well as inside. We can no longer cast the sex differences debate as nature versus nurture – we need to acknowledge that the relationship between a brain and its world is not a one-way street, but a constant two-way flow of traffic.

Once we acknowledge that our brains are plastic and mouldable, then the power of gender stereotypes becomes evident. If we could follow the brain journey of a baby girl or a baby boy, we could see that right from the moment of birth, or even before, these brains may be set on different roads. Toys, clothes, books, parents, families, teachers, schools, universities, employers, social and cultural norms – and, of course, gender stereotypes – all can signpost different directions for different brains.

Resolving arguments about differences in the brain really matters. Understanding where such differences come from is important for everyone who has a brain and everyone who has a sex or a gender of some kind. Beliefs about sex differences (even if ill-founded) inform stereotypes, which commonly provide just two labels – girl or boy, female or male – which, in turn, historically carry with them huge amounts of “contents assured” information and save us having to judge each individual on their own merits or idiosyncrasies.

With input from exciting breakthroughs in neuroscience, the neat, binary distinctiveness of these labels is being challenged – we are coming to realise that nature is inextricably entangled with nurture. What used to be thought fixed and inevitable is being shown to be plastic and flexible; the powerful biology-changing effects of our physical and our social worlds are being revealed.

The 21st century is not just challenging the old answers – it is challenging the question itself.

An extract from The Gendered Brain by Gina Rippon, published by Vintage on 28 February for £20. To buy a copy for £15 go to guardianbookshop.com

Phroyd

#neuroscience #gender #science #world news

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aalt-ctrl-del · 4 years ago

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okay, I think the trend between covid19 complicated individuals and those that hit mild symptoms might be getting unearthed. And it’s sort of bizarre, because American doctors and medical specialists on the board of health are not looking at the connections. Maybe they are, but I have’t found those info details as of yet.

The analysis actually comes from a doctor in Britain, who has gone to great lengths to go through information related to covid19 cases. He walks through what happens, what incurs in the body, the lungs, and discusses differences and similarities among other viruses to covid. More important, he does sketch pieces and discusses the cytokine storms.

The following essay is an info dump on who is at most risk to covid19 complications, and it is not those with health compromise. It is in actuality those who believe they are healthy, with no preexisting health conditions, who are at greatest risk to covid19 complications, and prolonged medical complexities related to contact with covid19. Bear in mind my analysis, as is always, is a theory based study with no hard facts linked. I can provided links and sources, if it is requested.

There were studies performed some 3 years back on the geographic relations groups of people reside and the chances for contracting common cold virus and flu, and studies were performed with a controlled group. The results were optimistic, and offered conclusions which served as a foundation for preventing covid19 complications.

But recently the French published findings on the correlation between those with mild symptoms as result of Covid19, and those that develop complications in lungs and other major organs.

And the point I want to address is, it might not have to do with your immune compromise or preexisting health conditions. It has NOTHING TO DO WITH HOW UNHEALTHY YOU ARE.

This right here is terrifying. There still is not enough facts to draw the accurate conclusion, but I want to Theorize a bit. A lot of these people going out in large groups, having parties, going to bars and restaurants, are doing so because they have the misconception that they are healthy. That they, do not suffer preexisting conditions, suffer no health complications, vascular disorders, diabetes.They have nothing to worry about, given their health history, but they are fixated on the wrong conclusions.

True, those with these conditions mentioned, will have a greater risk of mortality and must be careful. But the trend I am observing is that, Covid19 IS NOT DEPENDENT ON HEALTH ISSUES. Covid19 and its complications, is dependent on an entirely unrelated factor.

We have 103 year old grandma with diabetes and dependent on dialysis recovering. We DO HAVE A HIGH NUMBER OF ADVANCED SENIORS enduring covid19 complications, but recovering with hospital intervention.

I would like to make note that there is some hesitance on the hospitals part to put a covid patient on a ventilator, due to the difficulties of managing the disease and drainage in the inflamed lung sacks. Basically, old story old, you’re gonna die anyway with the ventilator, so stickin you on one can’t do more harm.

But to continue on, there is this trend, of advanced elderly with health complications, contracting covid but recovering. On the other hand, we have healthy and active 20-30 year old, contracting covid, developing the complications, going on ventilators or not, maybe succumbing to silent hypoxia.

Yes, there is a greater risk of death in the elderly community, those with preexisting health conditions, everything the CDC discusses - there isn’t a higher number of young people dying, or more so than the elderly. And numerous factors come into consideration, when viewing covid19. But I follow the trend that this is a brand spanking new virus, that we have no prior interaction with, and the body reacts to it. The body responds to it, and one of two things occur - the infected suffers mild symptoms and recovers (maybe fully), OR, the infected is thrashed and overrun by the infection, and with hospital intervention they will die.

So! What is the pattern. Why do some people of the same group/subgroup, have complications caused by covid19. Why is it that healthy people with no prior history of health issues, active young people, and children, have a poor confrontation with covid19?

And the correlation made by the British doctor and the reports from Germany, are chilling. I mean, it is good to review the information, to discover that there is a preventive measure, and that it is not some random chance that you will react worse than your neighbor to covid19, or the complications as result.

On the other hand, the information isn’t a magical formula. It’s available to the public, you can buy the vitamins over the counter. But American doctors behave like this information doesn’t exist, or has not been reported in great detail. Which it has. The studies I refer to date further back than Corona virus, back to 2017. Absolutely new, credible information, studies ongoing proven true again and again. But no one is talking about it, and very few if any in the American health practice acknowledge the pattern.

And I reiterate, that this medical supplement, is valuable to preventing what is referred to the cytokine storm - an auto immune response common in those suffering cataclysmal complications to covid19. It may not prevent you from contracting covid9, but it may aid in preventing long complications, and severe reactions to covid19, which lead to prolonged hospitalization, or worse, silent hypoxia.

And I want to summarize, that this conclusion paints no one more at risk or immune to covid19, depending on their health history. Those who are at greater risk ARE NOT THE PEOPLE suffering immune compromise, diabetes, lupus, vascular disorders - while these individuals are A HIGHER RISK to contracting Covid19, they are aware of the dangers they are within. And thus those at higher risk of covid19 related complications, are those that are unaware that they are at risk. The individuals who have not primed their bodies with an essential over the counter supplement, or who live in areas with limited UV intensity.

#covid19 #covid 19 #corona virus #French #doctors #Britain #Dr. John Campbell #vit-a-mins #vitmain #i love the way he pronounces vitamin #1000 iu #thats my cap #dont go over 25 mcg

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eb-byestelle · 5 years ago

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:3 2 5 6 9 13 14 17 22 23 24 28 29 30 34 35 37 38 40 41 43 44 47 48 50 54 55 56 57 59 60 61 63 64 67 68 70 72 73 74 76 79 80 81 82 84 87 88 90 97 98 100

Hi there !! ❤️

Oh lord……….. 😵😅 There is a lot of it! But in some way it flatters me 😂💖

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

I do. It seems to be sth unpleasant but I like that tbh. It’s a very refreshing feeling.

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

Ofc I’m 😂

6: do you keep plants?

Generally no. I prefer to have an ornamentation which are long-term like a paintings or various types of souvenirs. But every now and then I love to buy some roses or lilies.

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

Sometimes.

13: what’s something that made you smile today?

A few things for sure ^^ For example some new epizode on the channel of one of my favrite youtubers. I usually don’t care about youtubers, but there is few guys who I really like. He is one of them. Besides of reviewing and mocking of a bad movies, he started to make a program when he laughs of his inept cooking skills and in a funny way he tries to do the various dishes. It was the epizode when he tried to do some dish created by Gordon Ramsey. With his brilliant joke and a chill style of being, as usual it was great. Another thing which comes to my mind is a very tasty breakfast 😋

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

I guess it would be like in case of a lot of roommates. A separate rooms for each of us. Each one would be the own part of the fridge. The bills would be divided in half for each.

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

Right now I have a color I like (dark chocolate).

22: are you a morning person?

Not exactly xD I love mornings! It’s my favorite part of the day. But at the same time I love to spend all night without sleeping xD At night we have the best ideas and the biggest inspiration ❤️ sometimes I call myself „a night animal”. But I still love mornings, this fresh air, very pleasant atmosphere. But because of my love to being „a night animals” my morning is only sometimes in the correct part of the day (like 7.00 – 8.00 am).

23: what’s your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

Like today xD Eg. replying to messages (like right now xD), cleaning, some activities like a cycling, trips or swimming, watching a movies, finding an interesting things or creating sth like a new poem or taking a new photos to my albums.

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

Yes, she is ❤️ She knows more than anybody.

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise ❤️

29: what’s something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

Eg. when there is my birthday time and some my friend always gives me the gifts which perfectly suits to my interests and my personality ❤️ It’s the sign for me that someone knows my well and I’m important for him/her.

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

I think I have… But I’m not sure when exactly. It was a long time ago…

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

You mean a mascot, right? I still have my dear bunny ❤️ Its name is Niunia (a girl name). I got it for my fourth birthday. It was one of my biggest inspiration for the next 10 years xD Thanks to this bunny I created my first tales, comics, novels, and arts. It was like an one big inspiration bomb xD

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

Yeah, I like it. I use it very often.

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

Rather clean.

38: tell us about your pet peeves!

It would be probably when someone is too sarcastic. Many people love sarcasms. Some are funny, when don’t laugh of somebodies in some mean way, but generally when it’s sth too personal, directed directly to me, then it’s sth very painful.

I also really don’t like when someone is a religious fanatic. I’m not an atheist and I totally respect all religiouses but some part of them are just insane… Some of them even try to say, that the homosexuality is a disease and that the contraception is a killing. Maybe we should claim that the religious fanatics is a disease xD 💀😂

Oh! And I hate this obsession with diet and exercise. It’s great to feel attractive and healthy but it started to be the one large international persecution mania 😅💀💀

40: think of a piece of jewelery you own: what’s it’s story? does it have any meaning to you?

Ahh, ofc! I have a lot of jewelery, many of them remind me of some memories. My the most precious thing is my ring which I bought from my first scholarship (the scholarship I got in 2015, while I bought it in 2016). I wear it everyday. Later I went to the some steep hill and at the top of this hill I’ve done a kind of oath to myself that I will never make some mistakes once again, i.e. that I will always respect and love myself and I will always be faithful to myself (Sth a bit like a self-wedding xD There was even the cross xD).

41: what’s the last book you remember really, really loving?

Generally I read book quite rarely, I choose much more the watching the movies/anime, but when I think about a books like this, eg. now I’m reading some really great book. It’s called „Sophie’s World”. It’s about a teenage girl which one day came back from school and inside of her letter-box found a letter addressed to her, where it was one question „Who you are?”. Later, after she started think about who could give it to her and wonder about that question, another anonymous letters with philosophical questions began to be put into her letter-box. After a short time, after stimulating her curiosity towards philosophy, still without knowing the identity of the mysterious philosopher, the girl started a philosophy course, this time receiving a lot of long sheets full of new knowledge. More and more she began to delve into the world of philosophy, while at the same time trying to find out who is that mysterious teacher. At the same time, every now and then for some reason in various places, she found some things for the another girl she had never met. So far, I’m halfway through, history is getting more and more interesting. This is not a romance, as might be suggested by that “mysterious man” xD is a novel which is a kind of textbook of philosophy inserted into the story of the main character, written in a style that is one of the best literary styles I have ever read ❤️

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

With my music xD 🎵🎇

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

It was some time ago, on my last ride by bicycle.

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

The meat from the dogs 😱😭😭👎

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

In case of this, I’ve really changed. As a kid I was scared by a storm, altitude, public appearances, spiders, darkness, although at the same time since childhood I’ve liked to challenge myself. Then there was a time when there were many strong negative experiences in my life, after which I came up with some simple thought: “Once I was afraid of a storm, but then I found out that there are more terrible things than a storm.” Now I’m afraid of only few things. I was able to go in the middle of the night through a dark forest, perform in front of a hundred people or run away from a stranger who chased me with a log in hand and even then I didn’t feel a fear. But there is still something I’m scared. It’s a bad people. I divide bad people into “culprits” and “intruders”. These first ones are people aware of their faults who have made mistakes, but they have a goodness within them that helps them to be better. Those second ones are totally evil. They are persuasive. People love them and follow them. They’re often completely unaware of the quantity of evil that is within them. Their boundless ruthlessness, combined with their eternal state of repression and alleged innocence, make them worse than the most dangerous lion.

I’m also afraid of losing humanity. I have the view that human is a creation between an animal and a device. I don’t want to get lost totally in lusts and instincts, like an animal, I don’t want to lose myself in logical cold action, like a device. It’s important to not forget about the instincts and the logical thinking, both skills are very valuable. But the extreme transition to one of these parties is bad. And very simple in a present times. While there is still humanity in the middle, specifically this what is metaphorically called “the soul” (feelings, weaknesses, sensibility). I don’t want the present world to deprive me of this.

50: what’s an odd thing you collect?

I guess I don’t collect any things like this.

54: who’s the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

Some my friend from studies. She has a very hard time right now…

55: what’s the most dramatic thing you’ve ever done to prove a point?

It’s hard to say… But I guess it was some „skill” I had to learn, ie. more „sharp” kind of speaking and behaving, more agressive. Ofc not as a kind of speaking everyday, but it were a situation which forced me to be cruel to someone who hurt me. It was my final attempt to prove that this person very hurts me and deserves my contempt. It worked. Now this person is completely different to me. But I don’t hide that it was difficult. In a way, I had to move my scruple and find within me something what I call “wildness”.

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

When someone still has inside sth from a child. Specifically, I mean a children’s sensitivity, curiosity about the world, the ability to dreaming, child’s innocence and a kind of enjoying something like a child. Imo it’s very important to cultivate everything this within us, at the same time having sth of an adult, like eg. an emotional maturity (there are ofc also children who can do it ;3). I like when someone is not afraid of being themselves. I also value a tenderness. I also like when someone gets involved in something with a passion, in some of their interest, or even in the anime episode xD

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

I can to listen to this AGAIN AND AGAIN 💖🎵🎵

59: what’s your favorite myth?

I don’t have any.

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

I like ^^ My fave poets are Adam Mickiewicz and Jan Lechoń. From my poetry my fave poem is called „The Shine” about how to recognize the true great love and not to confuse it with sth worse, some fake. It resembles a dialogue by a man with a personified „Mrs Love/Goddess of love Venus” (there is even sth mentioned about Venus). The man falls in love with someone, but he hesitates, doesn’t know if she’s this only one. Love tells him that yes, this is the only one. Love also tells him what he should to do to not lose her and how to realize the enormity of his feelings and distinguish the “first place / podium” from the others ones.

61: what’s the stupidest gift you’ve ever given? the stupidest one you’ve ever received?

I gave one day for one my friend a cup with picture of Rei from Free! in a butterfly costume. Have I received some stupid gift? Maybe that bright green headphones for music in the shape of little monkeys that looked terribly and worked even more terribly XD

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

I think that to some level I’m fussy, but not very much. I love the most to listen sth what it evokes some feelings me and emotions inside me or inspires me to sth. When it doesn’t do it, it’s not a big deal but on the first place I put a kind of music like above.

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

Black (We have a 2:15 am so .. xD).

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

It’s not sth what makes me feel worse. I just try to accept any weather and to be above it. But sometimes there are a moments when I feel sleepy.

68: what’s winter like where you live?

It depends. Sometimes it’s light and warm, about 0oC, sometimes we get even -20oC O.O … The snow is every year but not during all winter.

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

So far I have not.

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you’ll forget it?

Some things yes. I love to create a lists concerning various things. Thanks to this some stuffs and things to do are orderly in my head. But not everything. There must be a place for being spontaneous lol xD without this we don’t live xD

73: what are some of your worst habits?

No comments XD

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

Friendly, kind, tender, open-minded, full of passion and amazing ideas, funny, inteligent, positive, shy, sensitive, as much pervert as me (or more xD), with a golden heart 💖💖💖

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren’t?

Yhm, Sleeping? (2:40 am while tomorrow morning I go to work xD sometimes I have to turn off my inner „night animal” xD)

79: what’s one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

Eg. when one my friend gave me on my birthday ALL collection of „X/1999”, all 19 volumes which cost a lot of money and which are also very hard to find. I’m truly grateful for that, it’s one of my favorites manga serieses ever! In case of guys, eg. one kissed my hand only in a winter glove, claiming that he’s not worthy to do it without this. From myself (I do for myself A LOT of sweet things xD) I’ve gotten a gold statuette for happy birthday with an engraved wishes 😄🏆🥇

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

The walls of my bedroom are in a creamy color. I didn’t chose it but creemy it’s for me very neutral color so it’s alright. In my future dreamy bedroom the walls would be white or in a powder pink color.

81: describe one of your friend’s eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

Yeah, this is perfect xD

82: are/were you good in school?

In those subjects I liked. That was my rule xD About the rest I didn’t care.

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

I guess not.

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

The scientific movie “Journey to the Edge of the Universe” (2008) It’s one of the most beautiful and profound movie from this kind, I’ve ever seen ❤️❤️ „100 girls” when the main guy has absolutely brillant reflections about a women and men, everyone should to listen to him! :D And „Lucy”, about the potential of our brain. And perhaps also „The Devil’s Advocate”, it’s a food for thought.

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

Music for sure and a bit the painting world.

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

Let my own photos and those from the Internet will tell instead of me.

Yeah… That’s Wroclaw 💖

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

INFJ/ENFJ, pisces/aries , none of hogwarts houses.

98: when’s the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

Last week, It was very nice. I really like this kind of spending time.

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

I think that none of them. I don’t want t change a past, I like the state of things which is now and love some special memories which could to not happen If I would go back 5 years. I also don’t want to jump up the 5 years which can bring something special.

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

It reminds me some trend which we were in the primary school, called “The golden thoughts” where some person created a 100 question, wrote in a notebook and later others answered her question in that notebook. It looks exactly the same ❤️

Thank you for your message! 😘

#tag game #ask #answer #E.B. - by Estelle

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facepalming-since-chernobyl · 6 years ago

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You are judging SG by polish standards. Which i agree with, btw- in my opinion, shows aimed at pre-teens and teens (say, up till 18 yo) should not have any alcohol (portrayed as something good or desirable), no nudity or sexual behavior. Unfortunately, in US it is totally ok to oversexualize children and teenagers, to have 14-16 year olds in TV Shows banging several people in a course of one season and generally behaving like 30+ adults.

Yeah, I am aware, that’s why I said cultural differences.

All I think about now is Riverdale, lol. btw, do producers think that oversexualize teens is ok when they are played by 20-something old asses? xD

#missisjoker #my fam

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blanchettsc · 6 years ago

Text

the post | a self para.

set date: october 30. setting: cate’s home in london. evening. summary: cate’s children are extremely cheeky. or, alternatively, how they came to find out their mother is possibly dating meryl streep. mentions: @mezstreep.

Dinner that evening was being a rather silent affair. It was usually loud in the Upton's dining room. The children would begin to speak about their day as soon as they settled, Edith would refuse to eat anything other than broccoli (at least one of the children enjoyed their vegetables), and the dogs would at least bark one or two times, expectant of being fed some of the food they were absolutely forbidden to eat. However, that night the children remained quiet, and stared, young faces filled with expectations that Cate could not possibly decipher. They were waiting for something, that she understood. But tonight, she could not bring herself to speak, either.

Thankfully, her eldest did, after a while, "You know, mom," The woman's gaze, previously fixed on her plate, followed the boy's face carefully, a smile resting on her thin lips, "We had to watch The Post for a group work today."

She felt her eyes widen, and cleared her throat. A smirk spread across the boy's features. "Isn't that wonderful, monkey."

Ignatius, her third, finally spoke, his mouth half full as he chewed on his steak. "I know that movie. Isn't that the one with Aunt Meryl?"

She felt a slight blush creep through her cheeks. She could only nod. "Yes, Iggy. But we don't talk with our mouth full, do we?"

Ignatius shook his head, apologetic, but Dashiell quickly chimed in again, "She's really great in that, mom. Wouldn’t you think so?" He stared, expectant. She looked at him, and then briefly at her other three children. Edith, her youngest, seemed too focused on playing with her food, her hands greasy from picking the pieces of steak with her fingers. Her other three children were eyeing her, however, their blue eyes wide and steady as if they were to witness the most astonishing of revelations. Cate understood at last.

Two nights before, Dashiell had begun to talk about his friend Cheryl, and her parents. Not so coincidentally, Cheryl's mother had recently divorced her father, and now Cheryl had a step-mother. Not on her father's side, however. Instead, her mother had been the one to move in with a woman. In Dashiell's opinion, which he found of importance to vocalize, it was 'wonderful' because 'one mother is great, imagine two', and because it was also 'completely acceptable' in the current society. Cate had agreed, and so had her other two boys, but Dashiell had continued, reminding his mother of Carol, and how he had enjoyed the film, 'now that he thought about it'. This behavior had, of course, lifted some suspicions, but had not given Cate any particular guarantees of the extent of her children's knowledge. Surely her older boys could suspect that she enjoyed a woman's company. They did read the tabloids, no matter how many times she advised them against doing so. But on that particular evening, not one, but two of her children had found it crucial to bring Meryl's name to the table.

Cate tilted her head slightly to the side, "She is. Perhaps you can tell her that one of these days, mm?" She hummed, looking back and forth between her three boys.

She watched as their eyes widened, "Is Aunt Meryl coming, mom?" Roman spoke for the first time that evening, chipperly.

"I don't know, darling. Would you like her to?" She questioned her second child, though she looked between all of her children.

Ignatius responded immediately, "Yes!" He practically shouted, throwing his arms dramatically in the air. Dashiell smacked his shoulder, "Too much, dude."

At that, Cate could not continue the charade. She set down her utensils over her plate, sighed a little, and put on her best glare. Her children suddenly stilled in front of her. "Alright, enough. What is going on here?" She demanded in the tone she usually used to reprimand them. The three boys looked at each other, panic clear in their expressions.

Dashiell looked back to his mother, "We really like Aunt Meryl, mom." This time, the woman's name caught Edith's attention. She looked at her brother, "Meryl." The three year old repeated, and Dashiell pointed in her direction, "See?"

Cate was aware of her children's shared affection for her...friend. She had accompanied Cate's pregnancies, and known the children since their birth. She shook her head, "I'm glad, darling. But I don't see why you're bringing this up now, since Aunt Meryl isn't here." She rested her elbow over the table, and her chin right over her palm, "What is it you want to tell me?" Dashiell gulped. The other two boys remained quiet, frozen in their seats. Edith continued to play with her food, to Cate's displeasure. She would have called out for her manners by now, if she did not have three cheeky boys to handle. It was certainly not easy to handle four children on her own.

Her eldest boy looked down, "I may have accidentally read your texts." He admitted a little too quickly, and Cate's skin began to burn. Her first instinct was to yell, but she never yelled at her children.

She sighed, "What did I tell you about touching people's phones, Dashiell Upton?" She inquired, gently this time. The boy seemed truly ashamed, his cheeks flushed and lips quivering.

"I know, mom, I'm so sorry. You were showering, and I thought it was your work phone, and-" He stopped himself, "I'm sorry."

Cate did not accept nor deny his apology. She would save it for a later moment, in which she would obviously have to engage him in a proper conversation about one's privacy. She took a breath, "Well. And?"

Dashiell did not look up. "I just read some things." The corners of his lips actually curved into a little smile, and Cate frowned. He finally looked up to eye his mother, "I miss you so much. I adored last night. I'm in lo-"

"Enough." Cate cut him off, looking completely petrified. The other two boys had covered their mouths, giggling, as their brother spoke. Now, their heads were lowered, mirroring Dashiell. The actress relaxed her shoulders, attempting to collect herself before her children, "It is definitely not acceptable to touch people's phones without permission. Not even mine, or your father's, or Ignatius'." She started, rubbing her forehead, "I am very disappointed, Dash." The boy's smile had faded, and he looked as if he was about to burst into tears. She did not do this often, as they were usually very well behaved boys. "But what I'm the least pleased about is that you did not tell me immediately, or thought of asking me what those messages meant." Her gaze flickered from her first child, to the second, and then to the third. Edith was listening attentively as well, unused to seeing her mother so serious. "However," The word caused the boys to lift their heads simultaneously. "I find it very sweet that you made sure to make me feel...accepted, nonetheless. I expected nothing else from my boys." There was a hint of a smile on her lips, then. "Aunt Meryl has certainly become, well, very important for me. Of course your opinions matter to me more than anyone else's, when it comes to the people we open our lives to." Her tone was gentle, her whole expression had softened. "I would very much like to have her around more often. With us. And I am open to answer all your questions regarding her place in our lives."

Roman was the first to speak, "Aunt Meryl is your girlfriend, mom?"

Cate couldn't suppress a giggle, "Starting with the easy questions, are you?" She raised a brow. "Yes. I would say she is."

The three boys smiled. Edith smiled along, though Cate was not sure if she fully understood the matter in hands. "Who asked who?" Ignatius followed.

"No one, yet."

"Wasn't she married?" The same child questioned.

"Not anymore, pumpkin."

The boys smiled again.

"We like her.” Dashiell said once more, and Cate's own grin widened.

Roman lifted a hand, "But..."

The actress immediately stiffened. She felt her heart accelerate in her chest. "But?"

"She is a little older." Ah. "Which means her children are older than us. Do you think they'll like us?" Oh. Of course that's their concern.

Cate relaxed her shoulders, "I know they will. But they don't yet know, so I'm afraid you'll have to wait a little to meet them."

"S'okay." Ignatius nodded, and his brothers mimicked his action. "I have another question, mom."

She figured they would not let it go that easily. Prepared, Cate gestured for him to speak. "Of course, sweetheart."

"Is Clara on vacation?" What? Clara was their cook. Cate could only shake her head negatively at the unexpected question, "Then who the hell grew this steak? It's horrible, mom."

"Ignatius! Language!"

And they did not speak of it again. Well, not for another hour, at least.

#&. self para - the post #&. ooc - happy halloween!!! i'm gonna be partying today #but i wrote this lil thing #i was wondering how cate would talk to her children about meryl #but let's be honest #they're v intelligent boys #so this came about #i didn't proof read it so sorry!!!

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bloojayoolie · 6 years ago

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9/11, Being Alone, and Apparently: 41134-9 years old, 59 lbs Older Fella dumped due to NO TIME- Handsome, sweet, a little nervous, housetrained, well behaved when home alone, kid friendly good w/ 8 yr old female dog he lived with **** TO BE KILLED - 11/1/2018 **** NINE YEAR OLD REX DUMPED DUE TO NO TIME :'( Who better to introduce a deserving doggie than himself? After viewing his happy photos, its hard to imagine him any other way, so without further ado, here's a heartfelt intro from Rex. "Hello, my name is Rex, all my photos capture my smile. I hope to one day share my smile with a new family. I've had a home all my life, and now 9 years later, I find myself alone in a very sad, strange, and scary place. I heard conflicting remarks about my bio. Some say I'm friendly, allowing handling and social, other remarks are less than ideal. I'm trying my best in this unfamiliar scenario, and sometimes I am afraid of what might happen. I'm starting to think I may never leave here, and I'm scared. I always thought I was a great catch, but recently heard someone describe be as a senior brown dog, and it didn't sound promising. I wish they could get to know me, because I still love to act and play the way I did years ago, and I was always called cute. I am loyal, sincere and affectionate with my loved ones. I don't want my life to end this way, but if it does I hope you all see the real me. The people here say I have a slim chance of getting a foster or adopter since there are so many other doggies in need. Maybe someone loves older souls, and would love my company? Please spread the word about me, I am a good boy." REX@BROOKLYN ACC Hello, my name is Rex My animal id is #41134 I am a male brown brindle dog at the Brooklyn Animal Care Center The shelter thinks I am about 9 years old, 59 lbs Came into shelter as owner surrender Oct. 28, 2018 Reason Stated: NO TIME FOR ANIMAL Rex is rescue only Rex was placed at risk due to behavioral concerns; he has not acclimated well to the shelter environment and is reflecting on his behavior. Rex remains fearful and uncomfortable in the care center. While he has allowed some handling from select handlers, he continues to remain uncomfortable with direct touch and some forms of approach, escalating to growling and snapping. We believe Rex may be best set up to succeed if placed with an experienced rescue partner who may allow him to decompress and acclimate to a new home environment at this own pace. Rex is geriatric. My medical notes are... Weight: 59.7 lbs Vet Notes 13/09/2018 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 9 years Microchip noted on Intake? positive 981020015672030 History : o/s, now RTO Subjective: BARH Observed Behavior - Tense nervous, and had to be muzzled for exam Evidence of Cruelty seen - no Evidence of Trauma seen - no Objective P = wnl R = eupneic BCS 6/9 EENT: Eyes have nuclear sclerosis ou, ears clean, no nasal discharge noted Oral Exam: muzzled H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupneic ABD: tense U/G: MI, 2 testicles descended MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment:Apparently healthy-geriatric Plan: Continue to monitor while at BACC Prognosis: Excellent SURGERY: permanent waiver due to age 30/10/2018 DVM Intake Exam Estimated age: 9 years Microchip noted on Intake? positive 981020015672030 History : o/s (was here before Sept 2018) Subjective: BARH Observed Behavior - Tense nervous, whale eyes, tried to snap and whipped head around. Muzzled for exam and was growling and alligator rolling. Evidence of Cruelty seen - no Evidence of Trauma seen - no Objective P = wnl R = eupneic BCS 6/9 EENT: Eyes have nuclear sclerosis ou, ears clean, mild serous nasal discharge noted Oral Exam: muzzled H/L: NSR, NMA, CRT < 2, Lungs clear, eupneic ABD: tense, unable to deeply palpate but no obvious abnormalities noted U/G: MI, 2 testicles descended MSI: Ambulatory x 4, skin free of parasites, no masses noted, healthy hair coat CNS: mentation appropriate - no signs of neurologic abnormalities Assessment:Apparently healthy-geriatric Plan: Continue to monitor while at BACC Prognosis: Excellent SURGERY: permanent waiver due to age Details on my behavior are... Behavior Condition: 4. Orange Behavior History Behavior Assessment Behavior during intake: Rex had a soft body, tail high when counselor approached him. Counselor was able to scan for a microchip, collar and take a picture without any issues. Date of Intake: 10/28/2018 Basic Information:: Rex is a 9 years old unneutered male. Rex does not have any previous or current medical issues that the owner is aware of. Owner had Rex since he was 3 months old but had to surrender due to leaving the country. Previously lived with:: 1 adult How is this dog around strangers?: When a stranger would come to the owners home, Rex was friendly and outgoing How is this dog around children?: Owner stated that Rex has not been around any children so behavior is unknown How is this dog around other dogs?: Rex previously lived with a 8 year old spayed female. Around her he is relaxed and affectionate and will play in a gentle way. When Rex is being walked outside and sees other dogs,he will lunge towards them while hard barking. How is this dog around cats?: Rex will chase after cats when he sees them outside Resource guarding:: Rex is not bothered when owner would take away Rex's food, treats or toys Bite history:: Rex does not have a bite history Housetrained:: Yes Energy level/descriptors:: Very High Other Notes:: Rex is not bothered when the owner would hold him/restrain him, being pushed off furniture being disturbed while sleeping, being given a bath, having his nails trimmed, having his coat brushed or when unfamiliar people would approach the owner or the owners home Has this dog ever had any medical issues?: No Medical Notes: Rex does not have any known medical concerns For a New Family to Know: Rex is described as a friendly, affectionate and playful. He has a very high activity level and likes to play with balls, chew toys and ropes. In the home, he liked to be in the same room as the owner. Rex was fed both wet and dry food brand Alpo and Pedigree. He was kept mostly indoors and is house trained. When left alone in the home, he was well behaved. Rex is crate trained and would be behaved in a crate when left for up to 4 hours. IF he if left longer, he will bark. He knows the cues sit, come and stay. For exercise, Rex was taken running and jogging. When on leash, Rex pulls very hard. Owner has walked him off leash before and stated that he will wander around at first but come back when his name was called. Date of intake:: 9/10/2018 Spay/Neuter status:: No Means of surrender (length of time in previous home):: Owner surrender Previously lived with:: 1 Adult and another dog Behavior toward strangers:: Friendly and outgoing Behavior toward children:: Relaxed and affectionate Behavior toward dogs:: Relaxed and affectionate but with unfamiliar dogs, she will bark and lunge. Behavior toward cats:: Unknown Resource guarding:: None reported Bite history:: None reported Housetrained:: Yes Energy level/descriptors:: The owner describes Rex as friendly, affectionate and playful with a high activity level. Other Notes:: Owner surrender, 2nd stay in the care center, 10/28/2018 Previously lived with: 1 adult, 1 dog Behavior towards strangers: Friendly, outgoing Behavior towards children: Unknown Behavior towards dogs: Relaxed, gentle with resident dogs though lunges and barks at other dogs on leash Behavior towards cats: Chases cats he sees outside Resource guarding: None reported Bite history: None reported House-trained: Yes Energy level/descriptors: Friendly, affectionate, playful with a high energy level Date of assessment:: 9/13/2018 Look:: 5. Dog freezes and/or growls or tries to bite. Toy:: 1. No interest. Summary:: Rex came into the assessment room calm and quiet, when attempting to coax him and pet him he was a bit tense and uncomfortable. The assessor began to start his evaluation with look item and that's when he became stiff and growled. Rex continue to remain tense with displaying whale eyes towards both handlers. Summary (1):: According to Rex's previous owner, Rex was social with the other resident dig but would lunged and snapped at unfamiliar dogs. 9/11: Due to Rex's behavior at home, a muzzle was placed on him before being introduced to the novel female. He was mostly occupied with the muzzle, and did not greet the helper dog. He quickly pulled the muzzle off so both dogs were separated. 9/12: Another attempt was made to muzzle Rex, but during the handling portion he growled and snapped at the handlers. Date of intake:: 10/29/2018 Summary:: Soft bodied, allowed all handling Date of initial:: 9/13/2018 Summary:: Tense, nervous, had to be muzzled for exam. ENERGY LEVEL:: Rex displays a medium activity level in the care center. BEHAVIOR DETERMINATION:: NEW HOPE ONLY Behavior Asilomar: TM - Treatable-Manageable Recommendations:: No children (under 13),No cats,Place with a New Hope partner Recommendations comments:: No children: Due to how uncomfortable Rex is currently with touch and novel stimuli, we feel that an adult-only home would be most beneficial at this time. No cats: In his previous home, Rex is reported to chase cats, for these reason we feel that a home without cat would be most appropriate at this time. Place with a New Hope partner: While his previous owner describes him as a friendly and outgoing dog, Rex remains fearful and uncomfortable in the care center. While he has allowed some handling from select handlers, he continues to remain uncomfortable with direct touch and some forms of approach, escalating to growling and snapping. We believe Rex may be best set up to succeed if placed with an experienced rescue partner who may allow him to decompress and acclimate to a new home environment at this own pace. Force-free, reward-based training is advised when introducing or exposing Rex to new and unfamiliar situations. Potential challenges: : Fearful/potential for defensive aggression Potential challenges comments:: Fearful/potential for defensive aggression: Rex gives clear warnings when he is uncomfortable and does seem to choose to avoid or retreat when given the opportunity, but if prevented from moving away there is a potential to escalate to higher-level warning behaviors and possible fear-based aggression. It is important to move slowly with Rex, to build positive associations (treats/toys/praise), and to allow Rex to initiate interactions with new people. He should never be forced to greet or to interact if he is not comfortable and soliciting attention. REX IS RESCUE ONLY…..TO SAVE THIS PUP YOU MUST FILL OUT APPLICATIONS WITH AT LEAST 3 NEW HOPE RESCUES. PLEASE HURRY!!! IF YOU CAN FOSTER OR ADOPT THIS PUP, PLEASE PM OUR PAGE FOR ASSISTANCE. WE CAN PROVIDE YOU WITH LINKS TO APPLICATIONS WITH NEW HOPE RESCUES WHO ARE CURRENTLY PULLING FROM THE NYC ACC. PLEASE SHARE THIS DOG FOR A HOME TO SAVE HIS LIFE.

#funny #lol #humor #memes #meme #memehumor #dank memes #funny pics #rolf #lmao #9/11 #Being Alone #an

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diyunho · 7 years ago

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The Joker x Reader - “Mommy” Part 3

It was a well known fact The Joker’s girlfriend left him with four young children and disappeared. It was also known that his ex stepped up and took care of them even if she didn’t have to. The King of Gotham might have lost his woman, but he never lost his Queen.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 4 Part 5

After 2 months

The Joker is alone in the VIP room, enjoying his solitude; he ordered everyone to clear the premises and wait outside since his business meeting ended earlier than expected. Out of the blue, the cell alerts of a new message. J slides the screen and a picture with you and Mia laughing pops up: you are both wearing matching headbands with yellow flowers, identical pearl necklaces and PJ’s made from the same fabric.

He barely smiles, when a new picture with you and now all the boys added in the frame pops up, apparently ready for bed. The Joker’s smile gets a little bit wider, then after a few seconds it disappears under the usual frown. He starts texting something back but changes his mind and erases the words, staring at the images one more time before placing the phone inside his pocket.

At the penthouse, you didn’t even wait for a reply since J never comments when you send him pics with the children; you get notifications they were seen and I guess that’s the best you’ll ever get.

“Kase honey, stop jumping on the bed, it’s time to sleep, ok?”

The four years old is still energetic so he keeps on jumping, chanting your name:

“Mo-mmy! Mo-mmy!!! Mo-mmyyy!!!”

“Kasey, be good and listen to me!” you try to make him behave while exiting his room with a clear purpose: taking Mia to her crib. The baby girl fell asleep in your arms, resting her head on your good shoulder. You are really not supposed to hold the kids or lift them up since it will take a while to completely heal from the injury you sustained, yet sometimes you can’t help it.

You carefully place her in the cradle, sneaking up into the room next door to make sure the twins are still dozing off. Thank goodness they are and you close the door to their bedroom, immediately rushing to Kase’s room when you hear the thud followed by crying.

The boy was hopping up and down when he accidentally moved too much towards the edge of the bed and landed on the floor right on his face. The carpet is soft but the impact scared him nevertheless.

“My poor little man,” you pick him up, worried he might have broken something.

Kase whimpers and hugs you, searching for comfort. You kiss the child’s head and caress his back, soothing the pain.

“Are you ok?” you wipe his tears, making him sit on the bed while you analyze him.

“Y-yes…” he stutters, sniffling.

“Then why are you crying honey?” you ask, cupping his face and the answer makes you hold in the laugh.

“Don’t know, mommy…”

“You’re silly,” you kiss his cheek, happy nothing bad happened. “You want me to read you a bedtime story?”

“U-hum, “ he nods, distracted by the offer. You get Kase under the covers and snuggle with him, reading until he falls asleep. And the busy day you had catches up with you, making you snooze in there before you have a chance to go to your own bedroom.

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

“Y/N…Y/N, wake up!” The Joker shakes you and finally gets a reaction; he’s been calling your name and you didn’t even hear his first attempts.

“What time is it?” you turn towards him and Kase instinctively moves closer, searching for the warmth of your body.

“It’s 2 in the morning. Come on, hurry up, we have to go: it smells like gas downstairs, I think we have a gas leak!”

“Jesus!” you wake up in an instant, pulling Kase in your arms and struggling to get up; your shoulder hurts since you carried Mia around yesterday. “I’ll take him, go to the car!” he wraps his son in the blanket, not fazed by the protesting moans.

“Dadddddyyyyy,” the boy yawns, closing his eyes, upset with the ruckus.

“You’re fine, brat !” J lifts him higher in his arms and follows you. You want to get the other kids, but some of the henchmen are already helping, having them in blankets and heading towards the elevator. The gas detector is beeping in a frenzy but you were so exhausted you had no clue.

“Yuck, the smell,” you cover your nose, waiting for J to catch up with you. “Are we going to my house until this is taken care of?”

“I suppose so,” he growls and you know why: The Joker hates your house, always complains it’s too small.

Situated on the property you use as the children’s playground – 3 bedrooms, 3 bathrooms, a large living room and a spacious kitchen- the one level home is more than enough when needed. Since you live mostly at the penthouse, you never feel the need to upgrade. Usually the boys sleep in one bedroom and you sleep with Mia, this way J has his own room. If he’s not coming to stay when you take the kids there, you move Aiden and Zane to their father’s bedroom. Simple and easy.

Not for The King of Gotham though. “Simple and easy” are not his thing.

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

“It’s cold in this stupid house!” J complains as soon as he enters the master bedroom where you gathered all the kids in the same bed, waiting for the central heating to warm up the house.

“You know I don’t have the heat on when we’re not here; it’s not safe. Be patient, it will get hot soon,” the reply attempts to explain the obvious situation.

“Gimme 2 kids, I need to warm up. I’ll take them to my bedroom!” he gestures towards the twins.

The two year olds are not excited about their dad’s strategy: they are cranky and whiney because they got woken up in the middle of the night and transported to another location. They hold on to you, burying their faces in the pillows.

“Hugging all the kids, hm?” J snarls, irritated. No other choice but to crawl in the big bed also.

You choose not to comment: how is this your fault?!

The Joker snatches Mia that is sleeping in your arms and places her on top of him, moving Kase to his left, this way he has some bodies around to warm up with.

“That’s better,” he grumbles, covering everyone with an extra blanket. Kase reaches for you, wanting to go back to the spot next to his mother but J won’t have any of it:

“Stop wiggling and sleep!”

“I want my mommy,” his son complains and The Joker gets mad:

“What am I, decoration?! She’s literally a few inches away!”

“Kase, go to sleep honey, ok?” you plead, touched by how much the children love you. “Mommy’s here.”

In about 30 minutes the house reaches a comfortable temperature and J tiptoes out of crowded bed, wanting the privacy of his own room.

You keep on tossing and turning; your shoulder aches and you’ll definitely need some pain killers if you want to be able to rest. You slowly move away from the kids, not wanting to startle them. It’s so sweet to see the four innocent souls peacefully dreaming, curled up under the cozy fleece blankets.

“J, are you still awake?” you knock at his door.

“Yes, come in,” he turns on the lamp, curious on why you’re still up. You open the door and step inside.

“My shoulder hurts and I forgot the painkillers at the penthouse. Can we send…”

“I have your med,” he shows you his coat on the chair. “Upper pocket.”

“Oh, that’s awesome!” you sigh, digging in there and retrieving the much needed remedy. ”Thank you.”

“Here,” he dismisses your gratitude, handing over the bottle of water kept on the nightstand.

You swallow 2 tablets, taking a deep breath when the sharp pain pokes at the surgery site.

“Get in,” The Joker slides on the sheets, making space for you.

You almost choke on the water and he rolls his eyes.

“Are you afraid I’m gonna take advantage of you?”

“No,” you hesitantly debate on his proposition, confused about it.

“Then get in,” he reinforces his will. “Don’t look at me like that!” J glares in your direction, not a big fan of that intrigued expression on your face.

You listen to him though and comply.

“What did the doctor say? Do you need more blood transfusions?” he starts the conversation as soon as you are next to him. You bite on your lip, nodding a no. “Well, if you do let me know, alright?”

“OK…” you agree, perfectly aware on why he’s interested: after all the blood loss you sustained with the stabbing, you needed more to replenish what was depleted. They had you hooked up to the IV ready to go, when J had a fit because the doctor didn’t notify him of the procedure. The Clown Prince of Crime was furious he wasn’t asked to donate blood: he’s a universal donor, a match for all blood types. Of course the medical team had to apologize and be thankful they weren’t killed on the spot.

They also had to listen to his rant about how generously rewarded they were for being allowed to take care of the mother of his children and how they couldn’t even keep him updated on your condition. That was the first time you heard him talk like that and it was hard to hold in the tears: it made you aware he did appreciate the sacrifices his ex-girlfriend made over the years while taking care of his babies. The Joker just never showed it; he’s not that kind of person.

Needless to say you do have his blood running through your veins now. And you could have more if necessary.

You stare at each other in silence: you have a feeling there’s a purpose to his behavior.

“Why did you remove the tattoo?” J unexpectedly blurs out.

Ahhh, there we go: that’s why you were cordially invited to stay; he wants to talk about stuff bothering him. Might as well since you want to take a few things off your chest also.

You answer with a question:

“Why would I want my ex boyfriend’s name on my skin?!”

“I worked on that tattoo for weeks! It was perfect, my best one !” J cuts you off.

It’s always about him, of course.

“We weren’t together anymore, no point in keeping it…”

“I worked on it !!!”

This is not going well.

“The lack of a tattoo doesn’t…”

“I spent weeks on that ink!” he interrupts again.

But you can’t hold in your own escalating anger:

“Why did you always bring Anya back?! Why did you tolerate her behavior?! Why did you keep on getting her pregnant?! She was horrible! And you didn’t want to have any children with me when we were together ! I would have been a great mother!!”

You lick you lips, running out of breath after the valid outburst. The Joker’s eyes have a sudden threatening sparkle, not expecting you’ll turn the tables on him.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you !” he grumbles, annoyed. “But I have to?!” you fight back, more and more upset. “Why…” and your voice breaks…”Why did you like her so much?…”

“I don’t like anybody!” he mutters through his silver teeth.

“You did like her a lot, it’s obvious…” you sadly smile. “And she neglected the kids, almost killed her own daughter… She never cared about you either…So…why did you like her so much?” you persist, unwilling to quit. At this point there’s no use: you are both fired up.

“Get out of here!” his menacing voice shrieks. “Get out before I might do something I can’t take back !” he pushes you away, struggling to contain his temper. “OUT!”

You don’t budge and J continues to violently shove you towards the end of the bed.

“Get out I said !” he pants, provoked by your rebellious behavior.

You don’t even feel the shoulder pain anymore or anything else for the matter.

“Why did you like her so much?” you repeat and he covers your mouth, rolling on top of you. The Joker realizes you’re not attempting to escape his grip; you just gaze at him without squirming.

“Get out of my sight!” J hisses, annoyed at your apathy; you’ve been in charge of his security for years, he knows you can defend yourself.

Why don’t you?

He lifts himself up a bit in order to give you one last nudge that will make you fall off the bed, when your arms tightly wrap around his neck, pulling him back on top of you.

“Why did you like her so much?” you forcefully hold him close when J wants to escape the embrace. “Why did you like her more than me?” you whisper in his ear and start crying, unable to suppress the burning question you wanted to ask for years. “I was loyal, I really loved you and never cheated,” your shaky voice makes him pay attention. “And you still broke up with me. And I didn’t object continuing to work for you when you asked. And I took care of your children when you asked,” you start sobbing and his face is buried in your neck, still mad yet listening. “You told me you trust me and that I never stopped being the Queen…Queen of what?” you lift his head up so you can look at him.“Queen of nothing?” and the tears keep on uncontrollably stream down your cheeks, your heart aching a hundred times more than the stabbing wound.

The Joker doesn’t bother to react or protest when you finally slide from under him, catching your breath while sitting at the edge of the bed. You wipe your eyes and prepare to go back to the kids just as his words barely make it out:

“You’re my children’s Queen and The Queen of this city. And…and my Queen since I can’t find a better one I can trust…”

Instead of making you happy, the sentences deepen your gloomy mood. J gets under the covers, turning his back on you, done with it all. He senses you scooting over closer to him until your steady breath lingers on his neck.

“Why are you still here?” he grouchily mutters and he feels your lips pressing on his shoulder.

“You want me to go?” you sigh. “Or…can I stay?”

“Suit yourself,” he reaches for the lamp and turns it off, not opposing to your left hand finding its way around his waist.

You’re almost napping when The Joker reopens the discussion:

“If by some miracle one of these days you manage to keep a man and get married, you still have to take care of the children; that’s an order !” he spits out with a hateful tone.

“ I really love your children; I couldn’t abandon them,” you cling to him more, somehow comforted when your hand is being moved from around his waist and kissed after a few seconds.

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

The next day he avoids you.

You spend a lot of time outside on the porch, watching the kids play in the snow: even if is mid-February, there is plenty left for them to enjoy.

“Mommy… for you,” Zane gives you a snow ball, excited it made you smile. Mia is chewing one of her toys, cozy on the thick blanket she’s placed on at your feet.

“Thank you baby,” you kiss his nose, making sure to button up his jacket one more time. He likes to unbutton it; surely takes after his father, can’t keep stuff buttoned up. The thought gives you a sudden boost of positivity while watching him run back to his brothers. Aiden trips him and they both fall to the ground laughing, Kase trying to squeeze in between them because he wants to join in the fun.

“Don’t hurt yourselves !” you shout, the maternal instinct surfacing for the millionth time today and you help Mia up, the cute Princess standing without too much help; pretty soon she’ll be able to walk on her own.

You peak behind you through the huge glass windows, seeing The Joker talking to Frost. The King of Gotham is fast to throw something in the trash can, visibly irritated.

“Mommy, look !” Aiden yells, showing you the wall of snow he’s starting to build with his siblings.

“Good job honey!” you praise, waving at the boys and J steps outside, crabby disposition noticeable from a mile away. “Hey, did Frost tell you how long it will be until we can return to the penthouse?” you’re curious to find out since you hardly spoke to him since this morning.

“At least one week,” he growls, displeased at the news. “The pipes need to be replaced at the lower level. Only one duct was leaking, but they want to change all of them for safety.”

“That makes sense,” you grunt and lift Mia up, The Joker scolding:

“You’re not supposed to do that !”

“I know, I know,” you agree and he gestures for her. After finding herself in his arms, the little girl starts munching on his coat’s collar, babbling words that almost resemble “mama” and “dada”.

“Greeeat, another one to chew my ears off,” he frowns and it doesn’t go well with you.

“Why do you have to take the joy out of everything? Aren’t you happy Mia will walk and talk soon?” you sulk, not understanding why he can’t appreciate the little things.

Sarcasm follows:

“Sure, why wouldn’t I be? It’s something a kid never did before, right? Pfft,” he scoffs, ”you’re the one that got emotional when each kid learned to walk and speak; I don’t get the hype.”

“Of course you don’t,” you grumble, concluding the children must be hungry after playing for so long. “Darlings, come inside; it’s time to eat!”

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

You stop drinking your tea and elbow J, making him pay attention to the touching scene taking place at the kids’ table: the boys are eating and feeding their little sister also. Kase is actually standing, holding her hand and she nibbles on the chicken nugget offered by Aiden. As soon as Mia starts chewing, the boys eat some more too, waiting for her to finish what she has in her mouth.

Your eyes get teary; even if they did it before, you find it irresistibly adorable.

“That’s very cute,” you gulp, getting ready to help. The boys can mostly feed themselves, yet their mom’s intervention is more than welcomed.

J smirks, quietly adding more salad to his dish.

You head over to the counter, wanting to dump leftovers from your plate in the garbage can before helping the kids. The small box resting on top of the trash is discretely taking out by a curious Y/N. Is this what he threw in there earlier?!

You open it and hold your breath: it’s a gold bracelet; a simple circle beaded with a few diamonds, engraved with plain, meaningful words:

To: Mommy

From: Kase, Aiden, Zane and Mia

J hears you sniffling behind him and turns his head to see what’s going on. You hold the bracelet in the palm of your hand, speechless.

“Why is this in the garbage?!” you bite your cheek. “Help me put in on please.”

He doesn’t seem willing to fulfill your demand.

“I had no clue you dig in the trash now! Is it a part time job?” he mocks, cranky you found the customized gift he ordered eight days ago and decided to dispose of.

“Help me put it on,” you disregard his bitterness and J nags:

“It’s a gold hoop, easy to use, no clasp or nothing.”

“I want you to help me… please…”

That’s the point: you want him to do it.

“You’re annoying !” he yanks at you wrist, gliding the bracelet against the soft skin.

“Daaadddy, I’m thirsty,” Zane whines, coming over with his empty cup.

“Oh goody, someone finally needs me!” The Joker’s sassiness escalates for no reason.

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

You creep inside his bedroom without knocking and lean your back against the closed door, waiting.

“Can I sleep here?” you utter, not looking his way.

“It’s your house, isn’t it?” the indirect invitation follows and you crawl in the bed by him, keeping a safe distance. “We can fit the twins between us; why aren’t you coming closer? Or are you scared you won’t be able to behave?”

You actually giggle, surprised you feel nervous.

“I think I’m alright, ” and you bring your body near his, cuddling like you used to years ago when you were together.

“Here’s the thing Y/N,” The Joker lifts your chin up. “If you sense any activity bellow my waist, don’t flatter yourself. It’s just a natural reaction due to the closeness. Are you…are you fucking blushing when I’m just messing with you?!” he teases and you feel your cheeks burning.

“I’m not blushing,” you whisper, embarrassed at your stupid vulnerability.

“You totally are,” J grins and you are aware it’s true. You wiggle in his arms, cautiously considering your next words. The smile perishes on his lips when you ask:

“J…Can you make love to me?”

He looks surprised and you feel awkward.

“That was dumb to say,” you patch your mistake with a fake, clumsy laugh.

“Of course I can,” The Joker’s face comes really close to yours. “The question is if I want to.”

“Well,” you gulp, “do you want to?…”

“Maybe…” he gropes you, thinking. Or is he just pretending?

“Moommyyyyyy,” is heard from the next bedroom, Aiden starting to cry because he probably had a nightmare.

“Such a missed opportunity,” J chuckles and you get out of bed in a hurry, but he grabs your hand, squeezing it before releasing the hold: “Come back afterwards.”

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

The children weren’t used to find their mommy sleeping in the same room with their father, but that changed two years ago. They don’t know what it means, but one thing’s for sure: they love coming in the master bedroom at the penthouse and jump on the bed, waking up both parents and horsing around all morning until The Joker hides under the pillows, displeased with the noise.

Mommy never complains though; she always shows her affection and lets them touch her growing belly, telling them their new sister is in there. So fascinating for the kids! And they are getting more and more impatient, especially the little girl: she was told she will be the big sister and it sounds like an important task.

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

“Baby?” the three years old Mia’s squeaky voice inquires, excited and curious to see such a tiny doll in your arms.

“Yes honey, this is your sister Emma,” you smile, pecking her forehead. You are sitting on the floor with the kids around you and they are seeing their sister for the first time.

“Waahhhh, she’s so cute,” Kase caresses the small head, mesmerized.

“Can I kiss her?” Zane claps his hands, puckering his lips.

“Sure,” you agree and Aiden wants to do the same.

“Me too!” the oldest kisses her also and Mia pushes him away, pouting:

“She’s my sissy!”

“Hey, hey, no fighting! Emma is everybody’s, ok?” you try to alleviate the quarrel, amused it’s already starting. It took like…40 seconds for the rivalry to surface.

“Look daaa’yy, baby!” Mia snickers, presenting Emma to her father like some kind of treasure. He’s been sitting at his desk, watching their reactions. You smile, softly rocking the new born when it fusses from the commotion.

“I know, I made her,” he sneers, winking and the kids are completely absorbed by the new addition to the family.

“Can I hold her?” Zane extends his arms and you carefully place Emma in his grip, holding both of them so he won’t drop her.

You notice the Joker is the proud possessor of a very arrogant aura and you know why: he’s been bragging all afternoon that he makes very cute babies and no matter how the mom looks like, he compensates for the deficit. Such nonsense!

But the annoying truth is that he does make beautiful babies.

“Mommy, can I hold her too?” Aiden begs, getting you out of daze.

“Sure can,” you nod, wondering when the jealousy will actually kick in.

You are definitely prepared for the challenge: this might have been your first pregnancy, but it’s actually your fifth child. It shouldn’t be too hard since…

Once a mother always a mother.

Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker #jared leto #joker #joker fanfiction #joker x reader #mister j #mistah j #mr. j #puddin #dc #the suicide squad #dc comics

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irrevocably-delicious · 7 years ago

Text

Hey you guys wanna preview of that soulmate au I’m working on?

Anyway here’s the first ~3000 words. This is gonna be a long fic.

Hope you guys enjoy the direction this is going

Keith feels his eyes blink awake as he’s suddenly aware of how uncomfortably warm it is in his bedroom and how the skin of his thighs stick together. He rolls over and groans. His knees pop. He reaches for his phone to check the time.

11:12 am

He sighs feeling disappointed in himself. He used to get up and run 10km before 7am, but his night classes are now taking their toll. He tosses his phone to the side and that’s when he sees it. Written in what looks like blue pen, in fine, scratchy, writing, three words are written across the back of his left hand.

Eggs

Milk

Rice

He squints at the words. Was I supposed to buy these? He thinks. They’re clearly a shopping list of some sort, a kind of reminder, but Keith has no memory of writing down the list. He also has no memory of needing any of these ingredients. He had always been a restless sleeper, perhaps he had written it in the middle of the night in a bout of sleepy inspiration?

Keith pays it no mind and decides to finally begin his day. He hops into the shower and relishes the feeling of shedding his layer of night sweat. He feels even better when he takes a handful of body wash and begins lathering up his body. This is when he notices the second peculiar thing about the note on his hand.

It doesn’t come off. Not only does it not come off, but it doesn’t fade or bleed or even smudge. The note looks exactly like a plain blue ballpoint pen, but it behaves like its tattooed onto Keith’s skin.

Keith rubs at the note more aggressively. His nails scratch at his skin, hoping it’ll lift up, when he pauses. His eyes narrow on the note as realization hits.

“I’m fucking lactose intolerant.” He scoffs.

The note haunts Keith for the rest of the day. He wishes he could let it go, but upon further investigation things just start to get odder.

He has no memory of writing the note. He’s lactose intolerant, so there would never be a need to buy milk, and now Keith is pretty sure that the handwriting isn’t even his. He’s sitting at the dining room table rewriting the words “eggs milk rice” over and over again, trying to compare them to the one on his hand. He supposes he could have possibly written this? Maybe if he was half asleep and his motor skills were off? But the g’s look dramatically different and the lowercase k is all wrong. He groans.

“Studying?” Shiro walks in and seems impressed at the image of his little brother surrounded by paper with what looks like notes on them.

“Shiro, do I sleep walk?” Keith blurts. Shiro blinks at the odd outburst. He pauses for a moment until he registers the question he has just been asked.

“Ah I mean…” He scratches the side of his cheek in thought. “Maybe? I dunno. You’ve always been a pretty light sleeper. Generally once you’re awake, you’re fully awake.”

Keith pouts and Shiro sees that this is not the answer he was looking for.

“But sleeping habits change all the time, so you never know. Like it’s common for people who maybe slept really heavy as kids to get more sensitive when they’re older.”

Keith nods, but the wrinkle between his brows does not go away.

He manages to pull his focus from his hand for the rest of the night. His night classes are tiring, but they work wonders in distracting him. Keith collapses in bed at the end of the night and doesn’t remember his hand until he’s in the shower again. He breathes a sigh of relief when he notices that it has faded. It still doesn’t smudge in the shower, but at least it looks like it will not be permanent.

The note is almost completely gone by evening. Only shreds of letters remain in faint blue. Keith lounges on the couch, judging Shiro as he plays his video game and his character falls off another ledge.

“You can jump on your hat remember.”

“Fuck, no, I always forget that.”

“Or you know, just get better at hitting x. That’s literally all this is.” Keith smirks. Shiro elbows him in the ribs. Keith pushes him back.

“Next time you die I…” But Keith can’t finish his thought. Because there, written on his hand in fresh ink, on top of the last note that has not quite completely gone away, are new words.

Piano recital 6:30

“Next time I what?” Shiro asks. Keith can barely hear over the pulse in his ears.

“I gotta pee.” He slurs out. His footsteps betray his panic in how quickly they rush across the floor. Shiro stares after him with concern.

Keith crashes into the bathroom with labored breathing. He stares at the note. His head is full of screaming questions.

I’ve been awake this whole time, how did this happen? I didn’t write this… did I?! No! I would remember! Also I DON’T KNOW ANYONE WHO PLAYS THE PIANO!

He shoves his hand underneath the tap and begins to scrub. Hard. He scrubs until his skin is raw and dry, but the blue words remain as fresh as ever. He stares at the note in defeat, his gut growing cold.

Keith is scared.

Over the next few weeks more notes appear. All of them are in that same scratchy writing. All of them impossible to remove, but seem to fade of their own accord. Most appear on his hand, but several appear on his forearm and palm. Sometimes it looks like ink stains his fingers.

Remember permission slip

Cake pan 4 Hunk

Pick up Lisa

Get Tony’s cake

Uniform money

Each note references an event or even a person that Keith does not know. He doesn’t have a uniform, and definitely no permission slips since he was expelled. Who the hell is Lisa? These words start to make Keith less afraid, but they being to feel otherworldly. Like something is trying to reach out to him. He sees glimpses into a life that is not his.

Children’s drawings appear on his arm. Or at least he hopes it was drawn by a child. The classic square house with a triangle roof. Several crude looking human figures. A scribble that could be a dog. These make Keith the most nervous and curious.

Keith rolls out of bed one morning and holds his arm above his eyes to survey what damage may have been done during the night. It’s become a habit by now. Wake up, look at arm, stare in frustration at any new notes, contemplate their meaning, wonder if he’s crazy, acceptance.

This morning Keith gasps. His eyes roam over his arm to see that it is completely covered. Any bare skin that was left has now been marked with fresh notes and doodles, while old notes on his hand and wrist are just beginning to fade. His entire arm is a smattering of marker and pen, and some drawings have even made their way over to his other arm. Some are just swirls, while others are flowers or what looks to be a coding language. There’s a particularly large cupcake on his bicep with the words “Hunky cakes” written underneath it.

Keith is horrified. He dresses in a long sleeved shirt even though it’s a particularly warm spring morning. Keith curses global warming as he tries to make himself a chilly breakfast smoothie. He goes about his day, running to the grocery store and working on some readings for his classes, whilst trying to keep his core temperature from climbing dangerously high. He wears shorts and ties his hair up, before he starfishes on the ground.

When Shiro comes home from a long day of running tutorials he crashes on the couch next to Keith.

“Long day?”

“They’re so stupid.” Shiro whines. It’s one of his more common phrases these days. It’s not unusual for him to burst into Keith’s room late at night, brandishing some student’s essay that he’s marking, and start screeching “What the fuck?! What the fuck?! They’re so stupid! I told them so many times…. How do they…?! How do they not swallow their tongues in their sleep?!”.

“Sorry,” Keith chuckles at his brother slumped next to him. “At least you don’t have any first years next semester.”

“I guess. But then I get angry at my students because they should know better.”

Shiro picks himself up by leaning on Keith, but visibly grimaces when he makes contact.

“Ugh, bro you’re so hot.” He wipes his hand on his pants. Now that he’s close to Keith he can feel the heat coming off of him in waves. It’s making him uncomfortable, so he can’t imagine how Keith feels.

“Jesus, why are you wearing this shirt? You should get changed.”

“I’m fine.” Keith shrugs. Shiro had felt that Keith’s shirt was damp with sweat. Hardly fine.

“At least push up your sleeves…” Shiro touches the cuffs of Keith’s sleeve, but Keith’s hand snaps down on top of his. He snatches his arm away.

“I said I’m fine.” He snaps.

Shiro’s eyebrows rise in concern. Keith knows he’s fucked up now.

“Roll up your sleeves.” Shiro says. It’s not a request anymore.

“I don’t want to. I’m not hot.”

“Yes you are. Now roll up your sleeves and show me your arms.” Shiro shifts his body in a way that shows his brother that he is prepared to use force. He plants both feet firmly on the ground.

Keith, troubled younger brother with a history of abandonment and anxiety problems understands Shiro’s concern. He knows what Shiro is thinking. Lord knows he displays the symptoms, but he can’t tell him the truth.

“I’m not hurting myself.” Keith replies weakly.

“Then show me.”

Keith’s mouth hardens into a scowl.

He holds up his hands to push back, but Shiro is too fast. His larger hand wraps easily around Keiths slender wrist, and even though Keith scratches at his hands and protests, he still feels his sleeve easily wrenched upwards. Shiro stills.

“What the…?” His eyes roam over the markings on Keith’s arms.

They’re confusing, but harmless. He tries to read the notes, but doesn’t seem to understand the references to people or events that have no place in Keith’s life.

“What is this?” His tone is gentle. He releases Keith’s arm with an apologetic look.

“I don’t know!” Keith snaps. The stress and fear that had been simmering underneath his surface for weeks bursts forth. He’s terrified, but there’s a weird sense of relief that someone else knows now. That maybe someone else might believe him.

“They just started appearing. Sometimes during the night, sometimes during the day. I can’t wash them off no matter what I do, but over time they do seem to fade.” Keith’s words are erratic.

“I don’t know who… who any of these people are!” He points at a note on his elbow. This one is in different handwriting that reads Katie was here.

Shiro pulls his arm close and inspects the notes closer. He also doesn’t recognize the names. His eyes ghost over one note that makes him gasp. It’s more faded but the words are unmistakable.

Get Dad’s dry-cleaning.

“Keith… you definitely didn’t write these.” He admits.

“Yes thank you, I know that. My handwriting isn’t even the same. Believe me I’ve tested it.” With his secret out, Keith tears off his shirt in a huff. The fresh air against his sweaty body immediately makes him feel better.

“No I mean… I think someone else is writing these…” Shiro goes on. Keith continues to scowl.

“I think this might be your soul link, Keith.”

Keith lets out a long, shuddering sigh.

“Fuck.” He slumps forward. “I was afraid of that.”

“What? No Keith this is great! This is exciting!” Shiro grabs the smaller boy’s shoulders and shakes him. Keith flops apathetically.

“Shiro, I just…”

“Have you written anything back?” Shiro beams. At least someone is thrilled.

“God no.” Keith scoffs. He pulls himself away from Shiro’s touch. Shiro sits with a shocked expression.

“What?! Why not?!”

“Shiro!” Keith shouts. “You don’t understand. Like, I’ve gotten children’s drawings on here before! What if he’s old and has kids already? What if he’s…” He deflates.

“What if he’s already married?”

Shiro smirks.

“What if it’s not even a he?”

“Oh my god why would you even say that!?” Keith hisses and shoves his brother as he cackles into the couch cushions. Shiro lets him get in a couple of good hits. He deserves it.

…

Weeks pass and the notes on his arm continue to come in, but thankfully he is no longer covered. It’s back to the odd reminder on his hand, or a doodle on his wrist. Keith is thankful that he no longer has to hide them. For the first few days when Shiro would spy them he would get this know it all “You’re being unreasonable” look on his face, but now he has completely dropped it.

Life goes on. Keith spends his days at the gym and his nights at the community college down the road trying to build up credits. He chips away at homework and punching bags, his days passing in the quiet way they always had. Shiro teaches during the day, and when their paths cross, they play video games together or go window-shopping with Matt.

Matt crashes into their flat unannounced one night. He balances a box of a dozen donuts in one hand and a bag of ciders, soft drink and rum in the other. There’s a tube of pringles in the pocket of his jacket.

“I just handed in the first draft of my thesis and now I need to get FUUUUCKED up!” He announces.

Shiro and Keith stare from where they hover in the kitchen. Shiro is the first to move as he smirks. His hand reaches into the top drawer and he spins a bottle opener around on his finger.

“Right on, man.”

After the initial congratulations, the three fall into a familiar pattern. Matt pulls out his laptop and they crowd around the coffee table, fingers greasy with pizza, and hop from vine compilation to some niche video Matt has found.

“Look at this premium content.” Matt whispers as his fingers excitedly enter new search terms.

When they grow tired of what weirdness the internet has to offer, Shiro pulls out the videogames. They play mariokart (Matt yelling “dibs on waluigi”) but it’s around the time Shiro is playing Breath of the Wild with Matt helping him to solve a shrine puzzle, that Keith feels himself drifting off. He shouldn’t be surprised. Night school was really starting to wreak havoc with his sleep schedule. His head hits the armrest with a heavy thud and he doesn’t move for 10 minutes.

“Dude, hey…” Matt whispers. Shiro hums in acknowledgement.

“Is Keith asleep?”

Shiro looks over his shoulder. Keith’s breathing is heavy and regular. His chest rises and crashes in a steady rhythm. Shiro chuckles.

“Aw poor little guy. He hit the wall.”

Matt starts to giggle gleefully to himself. He shuffles over to his back and pulls out a black marker.

“Punishment, punishment…” He chants under his breath. He uncaps the marker and gets close to Keith.

“Aw no, dude, no.” Shiro weakly protests, but he’s still laughing when Matt tip toes in close.

“He knows the rules! First one to fall asleep…” His hand hovers over Keith’s forehead.

“No! Dude, dude! Not the face! I’m serious, don’t.” Shiro hisses. Matt pouts a bit but understands.

“Ok ok, I’ll put it somewhere he can hide it.” He sighs.

…

“Morning,” Matt blearily greets Shiro as he pads to the fridge. He pulls out a gallon of orange juice and downs it straight from the bottle.

“Matt,” Shiro scowls over his coffee.

“What?” Matt wipes away his orange juice moustache. “I’m boosting your immune system. You should thank me.” He smirks.

He starts to prepare his toast and he and Shiro fall into a comfortable silence. The room is quiet but for the quiet tinkle of Matt’s knife occasionally hitting his plate. There’s a light breeze through the window and no one has anywhere to be for several hours.

“WHAT THE…?!” The silence is broken. Both Matt and Shiro begin to laugh at Keith’s distant shout.

It takes three seconds for him to come screeching in, brandishing his forearm in front of him. Matt’s crudely drawn dick covers most of the skin there.

“WHO THE FUCK DREW THIS?!” Keith is livid. His face is red.

Matt’s face matches, but it’s because he’s trying to keep in his laughter. He weakly raises his hand. Keith’s eyes are blazing.

“MATT I WILL FUCKING-!”

“Hey, Keith, bud come on. You know the rules-“ Then Shiro’s eyes go wide. He claps a hand over his mouth and guilt rises in his throat.

“OH MY GOD I FORGOT!” He cries. “Keith, I’m so sorry! I let him-!”

“YOU FORGOT???!!” Keith’s voice pitches dangerously high.

“Just go wash it off! He may not have seen it yet!” Shiro tries to find some silver lining. Keith sprints towards the bathroom.

“IT’S NOON!” He cries behind him.

#klance #voltron #this is a work in progress #this shit's gonna be so long #tw: self harm mention #no one's doing it #it's just mentioned #but heads up

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iluvtv · 4 years ago

Text

Still Watching: A Love Letter to my Mom

The content below has not been censored for your consideration as neither the Real Housewives nor my mother would have approved of such blasphemy.

The decline in blogging was conveniently intentional.

There were other projects.

My career as a TV critic wasn’t exactly gaining steam.

My readership technically wasn’t booming.

For a time there had been an unmistakable fulfillment in my blogging habits.

Full disclosure: this work held undeniable titillation, provoked as it were by the vain echoes of my own subconscious. It was too enticing not to indulge the ego, booming, unselfconsciously through the page as I “eloquently” deciphered probable intentions of a writer’s room.

But was this self-aggrandizing, albeit surely intellectually stimulating task truly worthwhile?

I kept falling back on this tricky notion of time management. Was taking copious amounts of notes regarding my viewing habits (a laborious task which required endless rewinds and thusly an inability to watch TV with others) coupled with the studious investment of actually researching and writing a cohesive piece which included a clear argument for television as a medium and thereby proving a consistent thesis, truly a valuable use of my time?

Not to mention, of course, the added effort of finagling my mother to invest her energies toward a strong copy-edit.

It was an investment, sure. But then again none of it was necessarily difficult at least in the classical sense of the word.

Actually, the engaging my mother bit was sort of easy. Not only was I skilled at the subtle art of stroking of her ego; “Your attention to detail is just so much better than mine. You are so smart…” I also possessed a valuable trump card which, admittedly, brought as much pleasure as my own voice: she actually liked my writing!

To have known my mother is to know what a huge compliment this fan-dom truly was.

My mother was proudly authentic. She had no shame over her inability to “fake it”.

This personality trait demanded a certain dedication on her part. She was famous for telling my girlfriends they looked like sluts at our eighth-grade dance and embarrassing fits at the market while her younger children tried to disappear into the kid’s seat of the shopping cart. Patronizing eye rolls were par for the course. When a third grade Hebrew School teacher lauded my literary skills my loving, supportive mother made it abundantly clear she didn’t think I was a bad writer but maybe just too… precious?

Admittedly, poetry about attempted genocide from an eight-year-old may hold some tonal issues.

No matter, after 30 years of practice I had found my niche. I was everything she seemed to be looking for in a writer: I would rather drink turpentine than emote and I like really “got” satire. Finally, my words were funny and thusly, the woman who had helped foster this cynical humor had little trouble understanding my intentions.

We fell into lockstep. Her killer, critical eye and unparalleled editing skills were a welcomed privilege. I was no longer precious. A trait which carried over in my ability to “take a note.” I fully understood the value of a critical red pen from a grammar die-hard. Particularly one, who not only had a deep ceded appreciation for my style (she helped cultivate it, after all) but also a keen understanding of the objective, which only a mother could boast.

I was fully aware what a priceless service this was.

And so, I kept watching. My notetaking became obsessive. Whenever I pondered this expense of time, I considered the reality: rewriting dialogue was improving my own. I was becoming a better writer.

Since both my mother and I were committing countless hours to the free and underappreciated service of my viewing recommendations, it didn’t take long for the shows and topics I bothered dissecting to be unequivocally dictated by her unapologetic tastes. Or better stated, my own experience of such.

As an aside, I’d be remiss not to note that in losing both my parents it has become abundantly clear that one’s guardians (especially good ones) mostly exist in relation to ourselves and our already noted inflated egos.

Basically, the television I studied, the theories I pondered, the conclusions I drew had to appeal in large part to Dale Allen Boland. This was a nuanced role. An honest woman of remarkable talent she also happened to be the strict television gatekeeper of my childhood. Back in the 90’s a desire for this blue light pulsed through my veins like an addict in search of her next hit. I hadn’t been picky at all back then. This was a time in my life when even Jerry Springer reruns in black and white, streamed through bunny ears in my Jr. High weight room took the edge off.

To be frank, while at first her editing felt crucial so as not to embarrass myself on the interwebs it soon became clear that the bigger part of my ask was just any sort of consistent audience. In time it became obvious that my mother hadn’t only become a fan, but she was, in fact, my blog’s only fan.

And as any good writer knows, you gotta’ appeal to your base.

It helped, of course, that my mother had been my earliest educator (dictator) of media. The San Francisco Chronicle’s Datebook and the New Yorker were mainstays next to the can, meaning my earliest poos were made all the more pleasurable by the accompaniment of Adair Lara and John Carrol. By 34 I was not only well versed in what she found tolerable, but also possessed a keen understanding of how to stylize this appeal.

Simpsons? Yes. Danielle Steele? Not so much. Had she given Danielle an opportunity? Of course not! But I was willing to play her game.

We both were expending a lot of energies at this point and since any real readership was in the slim to none margins it was crucial that we at least reward ourselves.

In retrospect I understand that this was actually how we enjoyed time together.

After she died my father noted that my mother and I had always shared a very special intellectual connection. A greater compliment than sharing a literary bond with Dale had never been given. In fact, in my father’s wake it is easy to see that this final gift from him may have been the most important. In saying so, he finally acknowledged what I’d always longed to hear. He respected, perhaps even envied not only my intelligence, but my mother’s too.

While I had given up on blogging years before their deaths, my diligent notetaking continued up until them. I accepted that my time critiquing television for free to a marginal audience had not been without purpose (though I missed the motive of the maternal connection it fostered until just now). I am well aware that through my efforts I had gained the confidence to write a novel. I understood that to maintain this skill set a continued attention to television’s minutia was critical.

But then, she died. Suddenly, grief allowed me space to achieve an entirely different and antithetical goal I’d set years earlier and had made no real efforts to achieve: to do less.

Finally I was able to let thoughts wave over me. I allowed flashes of “brilliance” to be fleeting. I relaxed into a space of agitated ease. I exclusively sought joy. In doing so I concurrently and without coincidence leaned into a brand of watching which had always been considered “just desserts.”

Bravo TV became a life raft. I watched Real Housewives and Summerhouse with a certain amused stillness I hadn’t exhibited since my complacent years as a co-ed.

The day following my mother’s memorial I listened to “Radio Andy” on Siris XM in a monotonous loop throughout the entire 6-hour drive home. I slept to Bravo podcasts. I read tweets from Bravo fan accounts during session breaks.

I noticed Bravo was keeping me smiling. The network and commentary was rewarding me with a source to which I could focus. I appreciated the humor.

Two months later my father died. Mind blank I leaned in harder to the quiet blankness this watching served.

But then, I noticed something.

Watching Kathryn Dennis of Southern Charm open a coke can with her teeth in a loudly expensive living room, next to her foam roller it occurred to me that these women were the antithesis of my own mother.

Vicky Gunvalson whooping it up at a classy resort represented everything my mother had no tolerance for.

To see these women as satirical requires a certain level of empathy for their antics that would have eluded Dale.

Their bad behavior was just too black and white. For my mom there would have been nothing charmingly relatable about a woman like Lisa Barlow of Salt Lake City, placatingly sipping a constant stream of fountain soda through a plastic straw while proudly bragging she wasn’t “like a regular mom,” proving this factoid by feeding her children drive through fast-food for every meal and ignoring their calls when she was at a party.

These are women that bat fake eyelashes and scream at each other through plastic pumped lips. They float effortlessly in azul pools in Mexico boosted by the silicone in their tits.

My mom also wasn’t a regular mom but she wouldn’t have found this indulgent brand of opulence at all inspirational, aspirational or relatable. She did not identify as a “powerhouse” or a woman who needed to tell other women that she “lifted up other women” over an expensive cocktail brunch with “40 of her closest girlfriends” all of whom wielded designer purses like coats of armor.

This trope, repeated often throughout every Housewives franchise for the past 20 years would have just pissed my mother off.

It’s not that she didn’t relate to women behaving badly this just wasn’t her brand of bad behavior. She maybe could have sympathized if they’d been wearing Walmart rather than Prada.

Lorelai Gilmore? Sure, why not? Emily Gilmore? Definitely not.

It’s funny because in a certain sense my mother’s proud authenticity and lack of shame in her outbursts would have made her an ideal housewife. But the weight these women put on things and beauty would have been too damn distracting to her.

In spite of being a woman whose love language was often a good screaming match she would have found any and all of the dramatic fights on Housewives absolutely insufferable.

And in spite of my deep love for the genre, convincing Dale that any of this was actually satire worth watching would have been an exercise in futility.

I embraced this factoid quietly and with little work on my end (other than setting the DVR to catch up on back seasons of Atlanta) I leaned into a space which never would have been tolerated.

It felt good.

It was my own.

In doing so, I came up with a million things about Bravo to share. Perhaps one day I will. God knows I need to create a new fan base.

But before I could even consider either changing the channel or sitting down to a blog analyzing how one housewife’s ludicrous and racist notion that eating chicken feet was somehow any different than eating chicken nuggets, I got this text from my mom’s best friend: “have you seen Derry Girls.”

Maybe an audience was asking for a resurrection, after all.

But as I flipped to Netflix and started a new note labeled “Derry Girls” it occurred to me that I first must come to terms with how much things have changed.

There is a certain level of self-actualization left amidst the cluttered grief of losing my parents. As I write this, I am continuously tempted to take a break for “Mom’s consideration”. Her feedback would have supplied an unrequited serotonin boost, like a gentle promise to my oh so evasive ego that there was purpose in my efforts, that the writing I was doing was valuable. When my mom was alive I always knew that someone would appreciate my continued efforts, making it tolerable to finish, and tidy, and publish. My mother was like a promise that not only my words but also I myself was worthwhile.

This chore of loving, maternal reassurance is, of course, now my own. A truth my mother, who never needed to brag about lifting up other women, would have celebrated.

Nothing would have made my mom happier than me making my own choices, editing my own words and being my own cheerleader Perhaps she died just to prove it. To know Dale Allen Boland is to suspend belief that she maybe could have made her last stubborn point through such dramatic means.

And to be totally frank; that is a storyline not even a housewife could pull off.

Thank you for being my greatest cheerleader. I love you Mom.

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inspirationallyinsane · 7 years ago

Text

March 15 2018

Hello Tumblr. I am tired. I don't really know how I feel right now. Melancholic, I think. Sad would be too strong of a word, I am not necessarily sad. I just have this empty feeling all of the time. The feeling that I lowkey want to die but like, not all the way. Days go by and I don't even notice them. I want them to go away I want the days to be over. I'm not sure what to call that feeling. I have been waking up crying every morning. I don't cry during the day, nor do I feel the urge to, but I every morning I wake up in tears. I dream of him. Every night. It is restless. He isn't even awful in all of my dreams, in a lot of them we are happy. In a lot of them we are just being us, nothing unusual or particularly dreamlike in its plot. He's just there. I can see his face and his laugh and his smile and his red jacket and I am at peace. And I wake up crying because I think even in my subconscious I know. I know it isn't real and dream me wants it to be real so badly, she wants him more than anything and she knows. She knows he isn't really there. So. I'm trying really hard not to feel that way when I'm awake. I tell myself how awful he was to me and how he broke us without any care and how awful that is. When I am awake I am resentful and so I do not feel sad, only melancholic. But in my heart I can not resent him and so when I am not awake it is hard. In moments of honesty it is hard. I am fully aware that I am living every day inside of a huge lie to myself. I know that I would break if that lie were to go away and so for now I am not living genuinely. Which I don't love. I don't want to live inside a false reality that I have created just so I can be ok. I think Monday was the worst. On Monday I had not yet created my lie and so on Monday I woke up and cried until 8:30. I had to be at work at 8:45 and I really didn't want to be so weak as to call out sick for this shit and so I made the lie. I convinced myself of it and I was not late for work. I did not cry at work and I did not break. I was, by all appearances, my normal self. It actually wasn't until today that I even got around to telling Ben, who I share everything with, that my relationship was over. So. No one knew. No one really knows. And then there are the people that do know and they have been wonderful. The people who care about me. I had a lot of old friends (and new friends) reach out to me and offer me help/condolences/sympathy. It makes me kinda want to cry thinking about it. Happy tears, of course. It is astounding to me the variation of people in the world. How some people can be so awful all of the time for no reason, people who you have given everything to. They can treat you like shit on their shoe. And then there are the people who you have given nothing to, who you have done nothing for, and yet they still extend kindness. They extend kindness without an expectation of anything in return. I am amazed by these people. I would like to think that I am like these people. I deeply admire them. I appreciate everyone who reached out to me and helped me pull my feet from the ground. I am very lucky. I am not alone. I have a date on Saturday. I don't really want to do it but I will because if I do not then my lie will have an inconsistency and it will shatter. So. I'd like to think that I have grown since high school but here we are doing the same shit. I remember replacing Austin with AG and I knew, I knew that I would never feel the same way about AG but I did it anyway and it was awful. To him and to me. And here I am jumping into another relationship when I know I will be in love with someone else for the entirety of it. And y'all might say "it's just a date it doesn't have to turn into anything" but for the most part I am the one controlling that and I know myself well enough to know that if I do this I will be dating this dude within a few weeks. I've known him for almost a whole ass year I know exactly what I'm doing. We vibe well and I could totally have another AG-esque relationship. We literally haven't even started chilling yet and we're already talking for hours on discord playing league together until midnight. Unreal honestly. I don't know what I'm doing. I don't know what I am supposed to do. I really want to wait for him. I really want to talk to him. I want to go to Target and talk to him. Just like I did when he pulled this shit the first time. But I think at some point I have to look at myself in the mirror and come to understand that I am worth more than this. I should not need to go to Target and confront him about things just to get him to talk to me. I am worth more than that. Am I worth more than that? I don't know how to place a value on people or actions. We have been studying morality and ethics in my philosophy class. There is a philosopher who stated that a person could decide whether an action was moral based on numerical values placed on its effects. So we can take Vince's actions and place values on them. Maybe this made him feel unbelievably happy. That gives 100 positive points to it, and it made me unbelievably sad, that gives 100 negative points to it. Since Vince's actions do not extend beyond the two of us, that is all the points to give to it (basically). Therefore, the points equally cancel each other out and his action was neither moral nor immoral. But from where I am standing, his action was clearly immoral or unethical. It was wrong and it was shitty. And then you can go assign numbers to an action I might do; go to Target. Let's say that plays out positively and I fix things. Vince would be happier (that is my genuine belief based on experience) and I would be happier. That's two hundo positive points and zero negatives. However, it clearly isn't the right thing for me to do as it would be a negative representation of my self worth. So? Who tf knows. Other philosophers say to do things that make you happy, as long as you don't act in an extreme. Seeing him again would make me happy. I do not believe asking him to talk would be an extreme. Stalking him would be and I am certainly not going to do that. So. Would going to ask him to talk be the wrong action? Some philosophers say that you need to do what's best for the most amount of people. I am not really sure what that would be in my situation. I'm not sure if you can apply utilitarianism to this. I can say though that I think my family would probably be happier to see me out of this situation, maybe Vince would be happier, and definitely this guy who wants to date me would be happier, so in that case waiting around for Vince would be immoral. I like philosophy a lot and I like the idea of living a reasonable life. Making every decision intellectually and thoughtfully. But I can not come to believe that every decision can be a rational one. There is no rationale to this. On his side or on mine. This is purely emotional. I also think that a lot of philosophers would argue that since it is purely emotional it is nothing more than a distraction from rational thought and it is worthless. Maybe that is how Vince sees it, as worthless. But I do not. I put so much value in our relationship. In him, in us. I valued it more than anything. I valued my love for him. I valued him as a person. I irrationally valued it with everything that I am. I still do. And I think that is another reason I feel it is important to talk to him. I respect my relationship too much to just leave it broken on the ground like this. I have never done that in any of my relationships and I don't want to start now. That is some shit. I built something beautiful with someone and to have it smashed down and trampled and not even give it the respect it deserves? That's awful. And another thing for me is that I reallyyyyy don't do short relationships. I fucking left a dude I was fully intending on marrying for Vince. Now, granted, that was certainly not a bad decision, I should have gotten out of that relationship anyway, but, the intention was that I would have a long and happy relationship with Vince. We loved each other. I love him. I don't understand. He told me that he loved me and he said that meant forever. Unless I did something shitty like cheat on him or change entirely as a human being. I have not done either of those things. I have not changed a bit since the first day we met and he is a smart little shit so he knew me from the first day we met. It is almost embarrassing for me. I posted a picture on insta and tagged it "unconditional" that was one month ago. How tf you going to go from loving someone unconditionally to being broken up in under a month. Shit's whack. Realistically, I still love him unconditionally. I did not lie when I said that. I will love him for the rest of my life. But like, I can't. Not publically or even on here. I have another few years, tops, before I have to stop. Before I have to start living again, out of pure necessity. That fucking sucks, I think. Four months. Unreal. I love him. Four months. It's stupid. We were so serious. Talking about shit like moving in together and marriage and children. Ridiculous. It is so outside of the realm of reality. It's shit. If we were just fucking around, if he just wanted to fuck around with me that's fine but you can't go and say all that in that case. You can't go and say that you are in love with someone and then two days after decide you're never going to talk to them again. People don't behave that way. That's borderline sociopathic. Maybe he never loved me. Maybe it was all a big lie. I'm not sure what he gained from it since we never fucked or anything which is usually why a guy would lie to you about that so. I don't really understand the logic behind the idea that it was all a lie either. And if he wanted like, stuff from me, like material items, he chose a really shit time to pull this. Y'all should've seen his birthday gift like god damn that boy would've loved it. I mean it wouldn't make sense for that to be the case either. Lord. I don't even know. I'm going to start spiraling if I keep writing and keep tryna figure this out. Work has been really good. I officially got my raise and I worked 35 hours last week so my paycheck is going to be looking hella nice next Friday. I'm going to be making over 800 dollars a paycheck on my regular hours. This paycheck should be around 850-900. It's going to be so nice. Making 1600 dollars a month. I feel good about life. Lowkey though our UB quit and I wanted to take her job but they're switching it all around to where taking that job literally would have been a demotion and less pay. Lmao our universal banker makes less than the drive through teller. Wtf. So I'm not really sure how to get promoted to a 40 hour a week position but I'm sure I'll get there eventually. Also! I'm super sad because they are switching Ben to only work Mondays and Fridays so the bank is going to be super boring Tues-Thurs. What am I going to do without my work pal :( but who knows, maybe the new prime time teller will be chill af as well :) Yaaa. So. I guess that's about all. I wrote a whole lot more than I originally intended to but that's how it be sometimes I guess. Goodnight, Tumblr~

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