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dreamescapeswriting · 5 years ago

Text

Overworked || ~ JH

Words: 3,856

Warnings: I don’t think there is any except swearing is involved

Pairings: Hoseok X Reader

Genre: fluffy|Cute| couple goals

Summery: You’re a student in college, you and Hoseok have been dating for two years, you lived together but he’s away on tour leaving you in charge of the apartment and the bills, everything get on top of you and you end up disappearing for a few days, sending everyone into a worried frenzy.

A/N: I’ve been wanting MORE Hoseok on tumblr, I can hardly find any and it makes me sad, so I took matters into my own hands. I SUCK AT WRITING SUMMARIES OKAY? IM SORRY!

Walking through the front door of your apartment you dropped your keys onto the small coffee table, kicked off your shoes and collapsed onto the grey fabric sofa, curling into a small ball and shutting your eyes for two minutes. You’d just gotten in from 8 am classes and you were exhausted but you knew you couldn’t rest for too long because you had work in an hour, another late shift at the bar down the road from your apartment, you forced your eyes open and looked at the clock above your fireplace, you had an hour before 5 pm, which meant you had to get a shower, do some homework, and then head to work, as well as facetime your boyfriend Hobi to tell him about your day but you knew you weren’t going to have enough time to do all of the above, so you sent him a small text.

Got to work a late shift tonight, I’ll call you when I’m home, have a nice practice. Love you my sunshine xoxo

You hit the send button and began getting ready for work, Hobi knew you were busy just like you knew he was busy a lot of the time so there was an understanding in your relationship if one of you didn’t have time to facetime, or call. You both knew you loved each other and would always be there when the other was ready. Your boyfriend of 2 years was currently away on a tour which meant you were home alone in your shared apartment until he came back, you didn’t mind you loved having time to yourself but it did mean you were in charge of all of the bills while he was away, you didn’t want to rely on him for money or to pay for everything when you knew you could do it yourself.

Hoseok stared at his phone, your text lighting up his face as he read it again and again, he knew you were busy with work and school, he understood that but this was the fourth time this week you’d blown him off for his morning facetime/ your afternoon facetime call, he felt hurt but he knew you were busy so he pushed the thoughts away and text you back.

Okay Princess, stay hydrated and get some rest, love you too xx

Hitting send he looked up at the ceiling in his hotel room, he was getting tired of waking up without you, he missed you a lot and you missed him too.

“Hobi!” You yelled excitedly when he answered the phone, it was 3 am your time and 4 pm his time, he frowned looking at you on the facetime call, your hair was in a messy ponytail, you were wearing one of his favourite shirts and dancing around your kitchen.

“Baby it’s 3 am, what are you doing awake?” You looked at the clock and then back to your boyfriend, still smiling away.

“I had some sleep but now I’m awake and can’t get back, so I thought I’d call you before your concert and talk to you.” You lied hiding the mug of coffee out of the camera’s view and smiling again, truth be told you hadn’t slept, you hadn’t been to sleep since the night before and you were running purely on coffee and energy drinks to keep you going, you’d been at the late shift and your boss kept you behind, making you clean up all the glasses and dishes that needed doing so you didn’t get home until 2 am, you saw no point in going to bed and started on your homework.

“I have homework to do this week, then mum wants me to get working on 200 cupcakes for my cousins birthday party that’s in one week, then I have to go to another shift later.” You said looking at him and then searching through the cupboards, you were writing a shopping list of ingredients you needed for the chocolate cupcakes.

“You need to rest, you can’t do all of this on your own.” He said with a sigh, you shook your head taking the phone to the kitchen table and showing him your already half-finished homework.

“Sure I can, I did some homework earlier, now I’m going to go to the 24-hour store and get ingredients, come back from classes and go to work, come home and bake.” You hadn’t noticed you were beginning to talk fast but Hoseok had, he noticed your teeth chattering too meaning you were on a caffeine high, he looked at you with sad eyes.

“Promise me, you’ll get some sleep.” You stared back at him and nodded, all the jumpiness in your body gone when you noticed how concerned he was for you.

“I promise, I’ll take a nap when I’m back from the store.” You whispered, sitting down in the chair and looking at him, he looked pretty tired too and you smiled.

“Promise me you’ll get some rest.” You mentioned, he smiled his big smile and nodded.

“I promise, I’ll nap after the concert.” You smiled at him and he chuckled, looking over at something behind him and sighing.

“I’ve got to go, I’ll text you. Love you.” You nodded at him.

“Love you too.”

The last facetime was a week ago, and he was starting to worry about you again, he worried anyway but now you weren’t calling him, or face timing him, you were giving him texts and barely any conversation to them. He figured you were busy with college work but he missed having his calls with you regularly and he missed how you would text him with strange dreams you had, but you’d been so rushed off your feet you hadn’t had the chance. You’d been picking up extra shifts at work, even on your half days at college you’d pick up a shift and do more work, homework was being done behind the bar when you were working, your boss didn’t mind of course but he was a little mad when you’d fallen asleep in the back of his office.

You were running off of 2-3 hours of sleep every day and you weren’t feeling the effect of it. It felt good, you felt like you had more time in the day for everything you needed to do, except, of course, message Hobi but you were studying for finals, working more and more to be able to pay for the apartment and then getting ready to bake for your family as well as keep the apartment spotless, it was tiring. You’d started to accidentally skip meal occasionally, you didn’t mean to, you were too busy working or studying to eat and when it was time to eat you just grabbed something quick, instant ramen, or a small sandwich so you would have time to eat and work.

“Namjoon?” You questioned answering the facetime call to your boyfriend’s bandmate, Joon was on the other end with a smile on his face.

“Hi Y/N, We were just wondering what you were planning for Hobi’s birthday, we wanted to surprise him but we didn’t know if you were going to do something.” You glanced over at the calendar, shit. It was his birthday in less than three weeks.

“Where are you going to be? On tour or back home?” You questioned grabbing a pen and writing down some notes on a post-it note to remind yourself you had to go shopping for him again, as well as pick up some more shifts if you were going to get him a good gift.

“Yeah, we’ll be back for his birthday.” You nodded looking at him, he was staring at you, one eyebrow raised and biting his lip

“You okay-” You cut him off.

“I’m fine, bring him home. I’ll bake a big cake, we could all have a meal together it’ll be nice.” Your giant smile on your face convinced him you were okay and he agreed, hanging up the phone and leaving you alone with your thoughts. It was currently 4 am, you had classes in two hours meaning you had time to call Hobi and ask about his tour.

You’d been on call for an hour, it felt good talking to your boyfriend again, you’d asked him about the tour, the sightseeing they’d been doing and he told you about all the small souvenirs he’d been collecting for you, an Eiffel tower keychain, a Vincent Van Gogh bookmark set, some pens from a giant stationery store in America and some other small bits.

“Hobi, you know you don’t have to do that.” You whined you hated it when he spent money on you, it had always been a thing in your mind, you hated when anyone spent money on you, not just him.

“You deserve it, baby, you’ve been working so hard.” You smiled at him, blushing as he stared at you with his big brown eyes, you giggled before noticing the time.

“I have to get ready for school, pick my outfit.” You yelled taking the camera from the kitchen table and heading up to the walk-in wardrobe.

You settled on some jeans and one his button-up shirts, the star one you’d gotten him the year before.

“I look fresh.” You said as you began buttoning up the shirt, Hoseok’s eyes fell onto your body, looking at you with a frown. You’d started to lose weight dramatically and he could tell.

“Are you…are you eating?” He questioned, worried about how you would take the question, you hummed in response, finishing the buttons and throwing your hair into a ponytail.

“Yeah,” You lied, you’d been forgetting to eat, it’s not like you were doing it on purpose, you didn’t want to worry him though.

“New exercise routine, been hitting the gym between classes.” He knew you were lying instantly, your left eye twitches when you lie and you avoid eye contact not only that but he knew you didn’t have time to work out between classes, he knew your schedule, but he didn’t want to mention it.

“Well…I’ll call you later tonight, love you.” You said quickly, ending the call before he could say anything else to you.

Later that night you got a notification that BTS were doing a VLive, you smiled logging into the app and opening it up, putting your phone on the kitchen counter as you began to bake, it was 2 am and you were getting a head start on the 200 cupcakes that needed baking for the next night, you’d taken some caffeine tablets to keep you awake as well as drinking coffee yet again. Your face lit up as you noticed it was Hobi doing the VLive on his own, having a meal and talking to fans. Mentioning the tour and talking about how he was sad it was almost over, you scanned through the comments some of them noticing how tired and worn out Hobi looked and you were agreeing with them in your head, he looked run down and worried about something.

“I’m fine guys, just worried about Y/N.” Your name rang through your ears and you dropped the spoon you’d been using into the bowl, the screen has your full undivided attention now.

“She’s just so busy with school work and work, work…you guys know how it is.” He chuckled, you looked down at the bowl and then back to the screen, taking in his full appearance, he looked like he hadn’t been sleeping either.

“Anyway, we’re here to talk about the tour.” He said trying to change the subject but questions were flooding in about you, fans knew about your relationship and they supported you both, you made Hobi happy and that’s all they really cared about.

Comments were flooding in and then your social media began to go off in the background, questions about you coming quickly. You turned off the VLive and then your phone, wanting to just get on with the cupcakes without any more distractions.

It had been three days since the VLive happened, three days since you handed over the 200 cupcakes to your auntie and then went back home to rest before college started. Hoseok was panicked, your phone was going straight to answering machine and the house phone was doing the same, Fans began to notice you were absent from social media and began freaking out for Hoseok,

Is Y/N okay?! Began trending on twitter but you didn’t know because you’d been in and out of sleep for the last three days, waking up for an hour, eating and going back to bed, your phone was still switched off in the kitchen and you’d not turned up for work or college for three days.

Finally, you got up and felt reenergized, but panic set in as you realised you were behind on everything, college work, your job and even missing calls with Hoseok, you grabbed your phone rushing out of the front door in nothing but a pair of jeans and a strappy tank top, heading into college first to explain where you’d been and how you could make up the time. Your professors understood and you were grateful for them, letting you catch up in your own time and taking work home with you, you rushed into the bathrooms of the college, splashing water into your face and looking at yourself in the mirror, you were a mess, your hair was in a messy bun, your eyes were swollen and red, and you looked as though you’d been dragged through a hedge backwards, some girls came into the bathrooms and looked at you but you hadn’t noticed, you just washed your face again before leaving to go to work, to talk to your boss. If you’d noticed the girls you would have seen them taking photos of you and tweeting them out with the same hashtag that had been trending about you for days.

@BTSFANSUNITE: I found Y/N at college, is she okay!? Did Hobi and her fight? She looks worn out. I’m worried about her.

Attached were photos of you, leaning against the sink and leaving the bathroom, your phone clutched in your hand and yet still turned off. Fans began speculating that you and Hoseok had been fighting, some of the nastier ones claiming you’d cheated on Hoseok and were now feeling guilty about it, which was far from true. You never hurt the love of your life.

“I know I fucked up Wayne but I promise I’m fine, I just went a little overboard with college work and over tasks, I promise I’m loyal to this job.” You pleaded, your boss walking around tables, complaining that he had to do all of the extra shifts and lates you would normally be doing.

“You need to go home and rest, do you know how many people I’ve had come in here looking for you?! Teenage girls asking if I’d seen you.” He scoffed, he looked at you and then sighed.

“I told them you were fine Y/N…but you’re clearly not. This is too much for you and I don’t think I can have you working here anymore.” You began to tear up at the thought of losing your job, you needed it to be able to afford to live.

“Please Wayne, it’ll never happen again, I need this job.” You cried out, he sighed shaking his head at you.

“You’ve got one shot, but I’m giving you the rest of the weekend off, it’s Friday. Go home, rest and come back Monday.” He said looking back at his calendar.

“Think of it as your paid holiday.” You walked out of the bar and headed home, crashing onto the sofa and finally turning on your phone.

65 missed calls from Hobi, 34 missed facetime calls, over 100 messages and then there were the others, your mum had called, the rest of the band members had called you. Shit, shit shit, you hadn’t even thought about Hobi when you woke up, you felt worse when you got onto social media.

@GotNoJammmsss: Can’t believe Hobi is out here hardly sleeping while Y/N walks around as if nothing happened - Attached was a photo of you going into work

@HOBISMINE: Maybe Y/N was having a tough time…but Hobi is a state, he looks like he hasn’t slept in days, and Namjoon said in a VLive he’s really worried.

You wanted to cry, you were the worst girlfriend in the entire world, you dialled his number but it was going straight to voicemail, you tried Namjoon but it was doing the same thing, again with the rest of the boys. You began to try and hunt on social media for what they might have been doing, but there was no new news about them, the only recent thing was about you walking into work and coming out with tears in your eyes, nothing about the boys.

“Dawwy I think I fucked up.” You said down the phone as you looked around for your car keys, you were going to drive to BigHit’s studio and talk to Sejin, he would know what was happening with them but J-Hope’s sister, one of your best friends, was trying to get you to stay still for two minutes.

“I haven’t heard from you in three days and this is what you called to talk about? Your boyfriend?!” You sighed, finally letting the tears rush down your cheeks, you fell down onto your knees in the porch and began crying.

“I’m scared Dawwy, I’ve been so busy with work and college, then with the family baking and then I completely neglected him. I’m so tired.” You whimpered out, tears streaming down your cheeks as you finally let the words out.

“I’m so tired…I can’t keep up with everything, every time I get a hold of something, another thing kicks the stool out from under me and I’m back on the floor, trying to catch up again.” You heard her sigh from the other end of the phone and you leant your head back against the wall, you’d been struggling for so long and finally admitting it someone felt good, even if it was to your boyfriends sister, but she was your friend, your best friend, you’d known her longer than J-Hope.

“Get some rest, I’ll find out what’s going on and I’ll tell him you’re okay, just go and get some real food…some real sleep and try not to think about it too much…and call your mother.” She ordered, you hummed, wiping your eyes and hanging up the phone.

You tuned into an Instagram live that Da-Won was doing later that night, you were sitting on your sofa in some shorts, and a jumper that belonged to Hoseok.

“I just wanted to let everyone know that I spoke to Y/N…I don’t know if I’m allowed to share what she’s been going through but I’ll just say she’s exhausted that’s all and that’s all I’ll say on the matter.” You smiled at the screen and popped some popcorn into your mouth, you’d eaten a full meal earlier and were now snacking on something small.

“J-Hope isn’t cheating on her and she’s not cheating on him, they’re both truly tired and need some rest.” You clicked off the stream and went to dial Hobi’s number again but it was still off and going straight to voicemail.

“Hi Hobi…I know I worried you, I’m sorry…I just…it’s a long story. Call me when you get this…I love you.” You hung up and put the phone down onto the table, picking it up again two minutes later and dialling for Yoongi, answer phone.

“Can someone let me know what’s going on?! I know I scared Hobi but I didn’t mean to…someone tell me he’s okay! Dawwy says he’s fine but…I want to hear it from him…does he hate me? Yoongi call me or text me please.” You pleaded, hanging up and throwing the phone down on the table, going upstairs to get into bed, cuddling up to the Mang teddy you had.

You shivered in your sleep, groaning and trying to feel around for the covers but not finding them around you anymore.

“Hobi you did it again.” You whined out, turning over and playfully hitting Hobi in the back. Your eyes shot open, you sat up in bed looking at your sleeping boyfriend, why was he home so early? Did you simply dream everything? You’d know if you were dreaming, you poked his arms but he didn’t move.

“Hobi!” You yelled hitting his arms playfully trying to make him move, but he groaned pushing you off him as you continued to try and wake him up.

“When did you get home?!” You yelled you began crying again, tears rolling down your cheeks, your folded your arms across your chest, the tears were still going.

“I got home about an hour ago, the front door was unlocked and you were sleeping, I didn’t have the heart to wake you up.” He grumbled sitting up in the bed, as soon as he noticed you were crying he pulled you into his arms, his legs going either side of you and your back to his chest.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He questioned, referring to the fact that you were struggling to keep up with school work, and the bills.

“I could have helped pay for things, you know that.” You shook your head, not wanting to have this conversation but also knowing there was no real way to avoid it.

“I don’t want to have to rely on you Hobi, you’re my boyfriend not my bank account.” He laughed softly at you and sighed.

“You’re my girlfriend, this is our apartment even when I’m not here.” You leaned back against him, shaking your head and closing your eyes.

“I didn’t want to rely on you Hobi.” You repeated again to him, but he was shaking his head at you.

“From now on, we split the bills, you’re not allowed to overwork yourself, you take regular breaks from work and college and you eat properly.” He begged you nodded wrapping your pinky around his pink, a pinky promise.

“You’re not mad at me?” You whimpered, he shook his head, closing his eyes and leaning his head into your neck.

“I could never be mad at you.” He whispered leaving small kisses over your neck and cheeks, you giggled a little and he wiped the tears away from your eyes.

“I heard you have the weekend off.” He chuckled, laying down, putting you beside him and spooning you, you hummed in response, too tired to form actual sentences.

“Good, we’re going to rest up all weekend, and not leave the house.” He began to pat your arms gently, as he always did whenever you’d fall asleep together, you hummed again in response and he placed a small kiss on the bottom of your neck.

“Goodnight Y/N, I’ll be right here when you wake up I promise.” You snuggled back against him and smiled in your sleepy state.

351 notes · View notes

courtlyharlequin · 4 years ago

Note

hi, congratulations on the 100 followers! you earned it :D i’d like to order some rosewater biscuits with deuce, please! thank you, and i hope you’re having a great day!

Shyboy

A/N: First of all, thank you! Though I’m nearing four hundred now whoops! Secondly, I’m sorry for the long wait. Thirdly, I’m sorry if this is different from my other fics for this event. The others had more internal conflicts and I wanted to spice this one up by introducing a more external conflict? If that makes sense? I’m sorry in general asdfghjkl;

Like many of your peers, you had waited for the day your soulmate would serendipitously pop into your life, whisking you away to a life filled with eternal bliss and never-ending kisses.

That was a fickle wish now that you’ve grown into a jumbled mess of emotions that one would call a young adult. Well, in your case anyway. You were now a freshman at the renowned Night Raven College. With no soulmate, your only desire these days was to pass all of your classes with a solid C. Even so, that desire changed frequently. Some days you wanted nothing more than a break, for time to slow down so you could finally process that you were no longer the child that used to frolic around in neighborhoods while elders chided your parents for being so nonchalant about your rather adventurous tendencies. Other days had you wanting your graduation date to come closer. On those days, time decided to trudge through quicksand this making all of your classes equate to a forty year prison sentence. No matter how prestigious the university was, you felt as if it was not what it seemed. The headmaster was bonkers in his own right, falling for bribery on a daily basis. The students lacked a counselor which in turn led to dozens of meltdowns, particularly among the prefects which was perfectly understandable as the job of dorm leader made you shudder from secondhand stress. All in all, it was worth the tuition— in your opinion. It was a strange place, but it had its own charm.

You sighed. Thoughts like these were useless now that you enrolled. You shook your head and pressed on forward to Café Rosé, a small yet cozy coffee shop with rose tinted windows. It was popular among locals who sought out their soulmates. Cheesy for sure, but the place paid well for a college student who was trying to get by their bills and such. You couldn’t care less about soulmate rumors; you just wanted some easy cash to help you pay rent.

The door chimed, signaling your entrance.

“You’re here, (y/n). Good timing. There’s a new employee here. I’ve shown him the ropes, but my shift is over and I must go tend to the hedgehogs at the dorms. If you could train him some more, that would be lovely.”

As prompt as ever, he was. Not even a greeting...

“Will do, Riddle. Have fun with the hedgehogs,” you waved.

“Wonderful,” he said, taking off his apron and hanging it on its designated hook before booting out the door before anyone could bid him goodbye.

You turned back to your new colleague: “Alright then, give me—”

“(y/n)?!”

“Eh? You look familiar… Wait… Deuce? Deuce Spade? Is that really you?”

“Uwahhh! It really is you! Long time, no see.”

Ah, yes. Deuce Spade. He was a childhood friend of yours. Sort of. You knew each other in middle school and got along pretty well before you moved away and he got expelled for causing fights. You knew him for a total of two weeks and thirteen hours. Not that you were counting. You simply remembered that day so vividly due to the way his lip quivered as he waved goodbye and how bruised his cheeks were. Admittedly, you had a small crush on him as well. It had to have died down by now like a withering ember in the midst of a blizzard. This was the first time you saw him in years. This was the first time you talked to him in years.

Alright.. be cool, (y/n). It’s just Deuce. As your childhood friend, he probably won’t remember much to judge you about anything really.

“H-Hey! Yeah, long time no see,” you replied

Your mind screeched and your heart raced: ‘Gah! What are you a parrot?! Don’t repeat his words, you fool!’

“How...How have you been?”

“Good. Good. And you?”

“I’m good too,” he fiddled with the hem of his apron.

“Oh! Wait for me to get my apron so I can show you some things! What did Riddle show you already by the way?” you said, making your way to the barista’s worktable.

“He gave me a tour of the place and a rundown of the business hours, shifts, and the menu items and how to make them. That was all, I think.”

“I guess he didn't leave me with much, huh. Typical Riddle...”

“I’ve been in the dorm for a few weeks and I can vouch for that,” he sighs.

“Ohhh! You go to NRC and you’re in Riddle’s dorm too? How is it?”

“A lot stricter than I imagined but he’s super good at explaining and keeping his members in check. He helped me a bunch with my math homework.”

You tied your apron up with a neat knot: “That’s good to hear.”

“I hope so,” he said, scratching the back of his head.

“Right then. Let’s get started, shyboy.”

“Lead the way, (y/n)!”

“...”

“What?”

“You make it sound like I’m a commander of some sort.”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that!”

“I never said it was a bad thing,” you shrugged.

“Oh thank goodness.”

The door chimed, cuing a customer’s entrance.

You snickered and playfully slapped his back, straightening his posture, “You’re up, rookie.”

Deuce froze on the spot. Oh dear… You took it as a prompt to turn around to see the customer.

Ah, a girl. You had forgotten that your friend cannot function around the opposite sex. Of course, there were exceptions like close friends or relatives. But even so, he had a hard time communicating with girls. There was one time where he stopped breathing when a girl asked for his number. That particular memory made you laugh for hours on end. Would Deuce remember? While you were friends, there was a gap that had formed between the both of you. A gap made by time. You hesitated, pushing down the urge to stir up some nostalgia.

“You just have to make the order. You’re not actually going to take it, don’t worry. I got you,” you teased, elbowing his sides.

The tension in his shoulders eased as he made way to the worktable, awaiting for the order.

You smiled at him before turning to the girl: “What can I get for you today?”

“Oh, well, I don’t know. What would you recommend?” she fiddled with her hair.

“The Rosé Latte is our most popular item.”

“Oh then I’ll take that!”

“Wonderful. Here's your receipt.”

“Don’t you need a name for the order?”

“You’re the only one here so I didn’t see the need to ask for it, but if it does bother you, I’ll put a name down.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she dismissed.

You nodded at Deuce as he got started on whipping up the café’s signature beverage. That customer though… one of many who were so desperately searched for “the one” yet so embarrassed to say so. She annoyed you, to say the least. They annoyed you. It became repetitive lately—customers coming in and dilly dallying about what they really wanted. At first, it never bothered you. But now, after some much needed experience, you came to hate customers who never got to the point— especially when there was a long line behind said customer. Perhaps the draining life of a college student finally got to you, wearing down your patience and tolerance for any tomfoolery to the last straw. Regardless of what it was, customers like that irked you.

“Hey, (y/n),” Deuce nudged your shoulder, snapping you out of your not-so-pleasant trance, “Could you give this to her?”

“You didn’t even have to ask. I told you that I’ve got your back… though if someone like Riddle were to see me doing your job for you, it’d be off with your head,” you smirked.

He clasped his hands together as if he was praying to a higher power: “Just this once.”

“You know I don’t mind.”

“I feel guilty regardless.”

“Don’t sweat it,” you reassured him, taking the tray from his hand, knuckles white from gripping it tightly, “Relax while you’re at it too. Girls don’t bite… that hard…”

“That’s not a good thing.”

“I tried.”

“Fair enough… but thank you, (y/n).”

“My pleasure,” you paused, “Well then, shyboy, your savior is off to deliver your well-made latte to a longing maiden.”

In a quick motion, you spun your heel and walked towards the customer. She sat at a bar stool and looked out the rose-tinted windows with a dull light in her eyes. Her head snapped back at you when the cup clinked against the table’s surface.

“Your order, miss,” you smiled.

“Thanks…”

As per protocol, you waited at her side to see if she found her soulmate. The manager said something about giving the customer moral support and being “oh-so-kind”. You grimaced as she daintily sipped the cup, praying that you weren’t her soulmate. Your fellow colleagues actually found their soulmates just by standing next to customers while they drank this aphrodisiac-like latte. Although the odds were slim, you wanted a soulmate despite giving up on the search. However, you prayed that you would not find your soulmate at this café. You prayed that it would not be the customer before you. It wasn’t because you didn’t want a soulmate. You just didn’t want her. There was nothing wrong with her aside from being the “basic” airhead like nearly all of the customers who ordered the Rosé Latte. It was just because you did not have the energy for one at the moment nor did you have the energy to deal with her “basic” personality. Again, nothing wrong with her specifically. Just everything that happened over the past few months taking a toll on you thus contributing to your rather unpleasant bitterness today.

“I don’t feel like I’m having an epiphany…” she mumbled.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry to hear that. But… how is the latte?”

“I just realized that I don’t have a soulmate and you have the gall to ask me about the drink?!”

“Oh I didn’t mean it like that! It’s just that this was the first drink a new employee made so I wanted to know if he did well,” you gestured to Deuce.

“He...He must be my soulmate then!”

“Miss, I don’t think he is. I’m sure that—”

“He must be!”

Oh where was someone like Riddle when you needed him most?? You couldn’t handle people. Moreover, you couldn’t handle people in hysterical fits because they couldn’t find their soulmates. But, you had to be the bigger person here. Deuce would ascend into the heavens if she got close to him. Your friend had a long life ahead of him. You had to protect his future at all costs.

“No, he isn’t—”

“Yes he is! If you would just let me talk to him, then I’d know for sure!”

She did not waste a moment after that declaration; she abruptly got up from her seat and made way to the barista’s bar.

“If you could just listen to me for a moment, that would be great,” you cried, reaching for her shoulders to pull her back.

You weren’t sure what kind of reaction you were hoping for but being pushed back by the customer and colliding with the table was not it. You hissed at the sensation of your back hitting the wooden surface and the hot contents of the cup spilling onto your hand. You heard a faint “OI!” from Deuce. If a nun were present, your mouth would have been cleansed thrice with soap and holy water. Perhaps your coworker would get scolded too if he dared to unleash his inner delinquent, that is.

“You are my soulmate,” she said, leaning over the barista’s bar.

“I’m—,” Deuce paused, making eye contact with you, “I’m not your soulmate.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? After all this time? I still don’t have someone to love me? Your little promotions were a lie! There are no soulmates here.”

“Those are just rumors,” you chided, shaking off the excess liquid off your hands.

Ah… it’s a bit tingly.

“I-It’s not personal at all! I swear! I just don’t feel the same way,” Deuce reassured.

“It’s fine. It’s whatever! I’m leaving,” she scowled,

The door slammed like a roar of thunder. The chimes echoed throughout the coffeeshop. You sighed in relief. Oh boy.

Deuce’s footsteps increased in volume as he rushed over to examine your hand. He held it as if it was a figure of class that could break at any moment.

“Does this usually happen?” he nervously laughs.

“Not really. I mean, some people don’t find their soulmates and they are disappointed, as most people would be, but they’re not extreme.”

“I’ll say.”

“But I’m surprised you didn’t go berserk at all.”

“I’ve learned to control those tendencies. She was really testing me though.”

“You’ve changed a bit.”

“You think so? I hope it’s not a bad thing...”

“Don’t worry it’s a good thing.”

“Oh you’re hand!! Wait here. I’ll go get a first aid kit and then I’ll clean this up,” he exclaimed.

“Oh, you don’t have to! It’s just a slight burn. It’s not fatal or anything.”

“It could be. Let me treat you! You could be in danger, (y/n),” he insisted.

“Fine, fine.”

“Awesome,” he beamed, running to the back room to retrieve the first aid kit.

The warmth of his hand lingered in yours. Was it always this cozy? It wasn’t the first time you held his hand. You held hands before when one of you tripped and the other would lean forward to help you get back up again. But this.. was intimate.

“I’m back!”

What on earth… a jar of honey?!

You wanted to reply, tell him that the first aid kit was by the cabinet to the right of the entrance, but you couldn’t. You could not process the words that came out of his mouth. A burn from coffee? Fatal?? You were in danger??? And his cure for that was a jar of honey???? That was Deuce for you and you would never dare to tell him the truth. It was like with the eggs from the grocery store not being fertilized. You never had the heart to break it to him.

“Give me your hand.”

You reluctantly obliged. He popped off the lid and poured a decent glob of honey onto the injured area. You came to regret your decision instantly.

“Deuce, why are you pouring honey all over my hand?”

“On MagiCam, it says that if you pour honey over a burn, it’ll make it feel better.”

Thank goodness— it wasn’t one of his shower thoughts. You weren’t sure if it worked, but you appreciated the gesture and the effort nonetheless.

“Now hold still for a few minutes and the honey should do its magic for you!”

“Got it.”

He patted your forearm, sealed the honey jar, and started to clean the spilt latte. His gaze was intense. He was concentrating real hard from what you could tell.

Deuce broke the silence: “You must be bored.”

“Well a little bit, but there’s nothing I could do since I have honey on my hand. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“Hang on. I’ll get you something.”

“I said I was fine.”

“It’s on the house.”

There was no use arguing with him. He must’ve felt too guilty about what happened earlier with that customer. If it was like that, then you couldn’t ever decline him.

“Alright, rookie.”

He smiled back at you and then took off to the work station. Deuce was always like that— hardworking and sincere despite his resting bitch face. He was truly a rare find, a keeper. He was the odd one out. That attribute drew you to him like a moth to a flame which, in turn made you stick to him like glue, like two peas in a pod— even though you only knew him for two weeks and thirteen hours.

“Here you go,” he said softly, placing a tray before you.

There was a Rosé Latte and a plate of rosewater biscuits, which weren’t the most palatable item on the menu, but, then again, you had never tried them. You picked up the pastry, taking in its rather simple shape. Now that you looked at them, they reminded you of the crackers you shared with Deuce often at lunch...

“I’m not looking for a soulmate,” you joked.

“I knowwww! But it’s the only thing I could make without having to reference the recipe cards that Riddle gave me,” he sighed.

“Well then, thank you for your effort,” you cooed, sipping the latte.

“Anytime, (y/n)!”

You set down the mug and dunked a biscuit into the latte: “Say… what if I said you were my soulmate?”

“I- Wait- What- No- You must be joking. Yes, very funny, ahahahaha…”

“Deuce, you don’t have to give me an answer right away. I’ve liked you for a long time, but I was never sure nor did I have the courage to say anything because, well, I only knew you for two weeks before we got separated. I didn’t think you would be my soulmate, but I felt something before. It’s just confirmed now.”

“I… like you too.”

“It’s not out of pity or nervousness, is it?”

“No, I mean it!”

“I’m just messing, shyboy.”

“I—”

“We should get back to work though,” you patted his shoulder.

You didn’t give him a moment to finish his sentence. A part of you was afraid of what he would say.

“Wait!”

“Hmm?”

“Are you… Are you free this weekend? Saturday maybe?”

“Yes, I am.”

“Then… would you like to go on a date with me?!” Deuce shouted.

It was then and there that you bursted into a fit of giggles, leaving your soulmate’s face to redden by the second. It was a lovely shade of crimson. It suited him, more than you could ever imagine. It was a good look for Deuce. You hoped to see more of it. He wasn’t good with girls, or most people, really— he’s super awkward in general but he was an honest-to-goodness guy who wore his heart on his sleeve and was never a good liar.

“That would be lovely, shyboy,” you whispered, walking over to him and kissing his cheek.

You knew that he used every last bit of his willpower to remain standing. He was as stiff as a board.

Oh boy… you sure had your work cut out for you, but it should be worth it. After all, he was your shyboy soulmate.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland imagines #twst imagines #twisted wonderland oneshot #twst oneshot #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #deuce spade x reader #event fic #cafe rose event

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masked-mallards · 5 years ago

Text

Masked Mallards, The Multiverse, and Everything else

Chapter 1. Attack on the Warehouse

Night Time St. Canard

Location: unknown

A rat crawled its way into the depts of the warehouse, it had spent its day in search of food, which would have been easy given the size of the city. However, this was not the case. St. Canard had always been a clean city, making it hard for any scavenger to find food. Even more so when its citizens try to kill you any way they can because you are not clean. The rat stopped in its tracks and stood on its two back legs and took a whiff of the air. Its ears perked up with delight and hope, “Food” the rat thought to itself.

Following its nose, it scurried its way through cracks in the walls and found itself in a dark dank hall. A little further down, a figure stood in the shadows. The only light was that the figure’s flashlight and its red eyes. The hidden figure pointed his flashlight to reveal the rat in the hallway, which was paralyzed with fear. The rat had use what remaining energy it had to get here, and had none left to flee. However, to the rat’s surprise, the figure in the dark kneeled. He dropped the flashlight so the light revealed his outstretched feathered hand. In it, he held some sort of bread.

“Hungry?” he asked a sooth voice and beckoned the rat to come near. “What is it with ducks and bread?” the rat thought. It didn’t care for the answer it wasn’t the time to be picky. The rat approached the duck in shadows and began to eat right out of his hand. For the first time in weeks, the rat was having a decent meal. “Do you like it?” the duck asked. The rat was no longer paying attention. “It is my own special recipe. Would you like to know what it is called?” He asked as he began to close in.

The rat slowly looked up to duck. Only to be met by his red eyes and a fanged bill.” Bait!” he snarled with a grin. Before the rat could react, it was grabbed by the duck’s other hand was held tightly. The duck stood up with the rat in hand and knocked the flashlight so it revealed the shadow of the duck and its prisoner. The rats horrified squeals were cut short by a mess of blood, fur, teeth, and bill. ‘Rats" Negaduck said to himself as he licked his chops. “Whether here or at home, they fall for the same trick every time.”

Negaduck picked up the flashlight while listening to a repulsed gag behind him. “What is the matter Sparky” He taunted. “Did I eat your cousin?“ Megavolt’s face went red with rage, he hated it when he called him that. However, he said nothing, he knew better than to challenge Negaduck. Negaduck, somewhat disappointed, handed the flashlight to Megavolt, he was hoping for a fight. Then proceeded to go back up the hallway for which he came. Megavolt found his voice “The boys asked me to go get take out from Hippo Burger, I would ask if you wanted anything but…” He pointed to the blood still on Negaduck’s beak. Negaduck shrugged it off and disappeared down the hallway.

Megavolt hastened to the exit and on to his task. When Negaduck gets into a blood craze like that, it is usually best to clear out. Part of him wished he at least warned the others about Negaduck, but he had no intention to talk to the homicidal duck for the rest of the night. Megavolt pushed open the heavy door of the warehouse to reveal a dark and clear night. He began to make his way to town, more in the pursuit of putting some distance between himself and Negaduck. "Sorry fellas.” He said to himself. “Something wicked this way comes”. And disappeared into the night.

St. Canard

Abandon Quackerwerks build

A storm began to form above the abandoned Quackerwerks building. Lighting began to crack and crackle. In the blink of an eye a duck sporting a loose trench coat, hood, and a familiar mask appeared. “We’re here,“ it said, though no one was around. ”We need to eliminate the target before the resident Purple blunder catches wind.” He continued but in a different voice. The duck gave a look annoyance at itself then pulled out a grappling hook, shot it into the night, and disappeared as the rain began to fall.

Back at the warehouse

Negaduck entered the room, picking his teeth clean with a small bone. Bushroot looked up from his paper and eyed Negaduck. “He is in another mood” the thought. Bushroot never whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Ever since Negaduck got cut off from the Negaverse, he has been on edge and homicidal, well more than usual. On nights likes this when he is in a blood craze, it either means he was going to lead them on a more profitable dangerous heist, or they would have to find a new hideout…again.

Negaduck sat at the table adjected to Bushroot. He put his hand inside the top of his coat, as if he were checking if something was there. Rain began to pour and thunder cracked on the roof above them. Quackerjack and Liquidator entered from an office-like room. The Liquidator’s eyes locked on the carnivorous duck then darted to Bushroot. After receiving a warning look from the house plant, he for once thought to keep quiet. Quackerjack, however, did not read the elephant in the room, and made his way to their leader, putting his arm around his shoulder.

“Sooo……Negs.” Quackerjack began as he gathered air in his lungs. Bushroot and Liquidator cringed and braced for the worse. He held Negaduck in close “I know that look.” He said on the exhale with excitement. “You have been scheming for the last few days, I’ve noticed, and now you’re ready to let us in on it. Granite, our last two major heists did not go according to plan. Mostly because of me, how was I to know the Purple Menace put a tracking device in Mr. Banana Brain? Blab bla bla …….” Quackerjack babbled on and on, pulling Negaduck in a near neck hold. Negaduck was growing more irritable as jester continued. "of course, now that your feathers have grown back- ”.

Quackerjack did get to finish. In a flurry of speed Negaduck pinned Quackerjack against the table with a loud thud. “Don’t you know how to shut up?” Negaduck said in furry. Negaduck duck grabbed one of the terrified clown’s arms and began to bend it the wrong way. Quackerjack’s screams drowned out the snapping and breaking of his bone. Negaduck threw his victim against a storage unit then forced Quackerjack to his feet. “Oh, I’m sorry.” he said with fake innocence.” I meant to break your beak to shut you up, but don’t worry though…. I’ll get it right this time" Negaduck said as he wrapped his hand around Quackerjack’s beak.

At this point Bushroot and Liquidator were on their feet, ready to subdue their unstable leader. Bushroot formed his arms to a constrictive vine and used them to grab Negaduck from behind a pulled him away. Liquidator rushed over Quackerjack and dragged him away from the fight. After that, he slides to Bushroot who was trying to restrain a now angry rabid duck. The wet dog did the only thing he knew would snap Negaduck into some sort of sanity. He blasted Negaduck with cold water to the point the duck was gasping for air. After a few moments of Negaduck catching his breath, he was finally calm and Bushroot released his grip.

Negaduck picked himself up and squeezed the water out of his hat as if nothing happened. The Fearsome 3 gave him a wide berth as they recovered from the event. Negaduck glared at his lackeys who stared back. “what are you looking at?” he growled. His eyes darted to the broken Quackerjack then back to the others. “Get him to a hospital!” he barked. They wasted no time, making their way to the exit. Negaduck grunted, he never had put up this constantly at home. He turned to look at the 3 again and sighed. A feeling he wasn’t quite used to yet forced him to speak. “Listen… guys I’m”- he was cut off the sound of shattering glass and gunfire.

Negaduck flipped over the table and they all took cover from the raining bullet. “Did Elmo give out are business cards again?” a whimpering Quackerjack asked nursing his arm cracking a smile. Negaduck stared at Quackerjack. How could he be his happy go- luney self at a time like this with that injury? The feeling came back, he couldn’t place it. The gunfire stopped. “Are they done?” Quackerjack said peering his head over the cover of the table. “Don’t!” Negaduck shouted but it was too late. A single gunshot rang out. Quackerjack’s body fell back and hit the ground. Bushroot let out a horrified scream, as blood began to spill out of his lifeless body, and was in a state of shock, sure they lived with Negaduck but he never killed his allies. “oh god, oh god, oh god.” Bushroot panicked. The Liquidator turned to Negaduck.” Boss what do we do!?” he shouted.

The gunfire began again. “Negaduck! What Do We Do? He asked again, but Negaduck couldn’t hear him, he couldn’t hear anything. Negaduck stared at the lifeless husk on the ground. He had killed people before, Hell he enjoyed it, but why did he feel responsible for this case. The unknown feeling worsened. "NEGADUCK!” the Liquidator roared. Negaduck’s attention was driven back to reality. “Stop shouting you, idiot.” He snapped, closing Liquidator’s mouth shut with his hand. If there was only one thing, he shared with Darkwing Duck that he didn’t hate, it was cunning. “Help him snap out of it.” Negaduck said pointing to Bushroot who was curled in a ball, with his hands over his head.

” The shooter must be close by, they only started firing up the place again after Bushweed here started shouting” explained Negaduck.” Soo…” he said, then made a motion with his hand a for them to be quiet. Sure, enough after a few minutes, the gunfire stops then silence. “Now what?” Bushroot whispered as he dared. “Simple.” Negaduck said with a toothy grin and pulled out his favorite chainsaw.” We counter”.

A figure jumped from the broken window with a military-grade rifle in their hands. Negaduck could see the figure in the reflection of a piece of glass that lay nearby. It was a duck, at least he thinks it a duck. The figure wore a pair of night-vision goggles and a gas mask. A torn and battered faded purple hood and trench coat lined with red on the inside covered the head and most of its body. The rest covered in dark S.W.A.T armor. “This one came prepared for a fight.” He thought to himself. He grinned; he welcomed the challenge. “I will happily oblige”.

“Did we get him?” the figure asked. “Don’t know, didn’t see him” the figured answer himself but in a different voice. Both sounded familiar to Negaduck but he couldn’t place them. At this point the Negaduck deduced that it was a duck, due to the accent, but why was he talking that way? “We hit something though” the duck pointed the rifle at Quackerjack’s body.” That wasn’t the target you fool” the other voice growled in annoyance. “That was the clown!“ he finished with a facepalm with his free hand. A few seconds the armored duck recomposed itself. “Still if Quackerjack is here, then the target can’t be too far.”

The duck said beginning to look around the rubble. “Then we search the area”. The duck said answering itself again. There was some rustling behind the table. Immediately, the armed schizophrenic duck aimed the rifle at the overturned table “Who’s there” the voices said in unison. Thunder cracked followed by the unmistakable sound of a roaring chainsaw. He turned to see Negaduck towering over him with his daggers like red eyes and fanged grin. “Of course.” The voiced said as it saw an interfering child.” Let’s Get This Over With!”.

Negaduck brought down his chainsaw upon the attacker’s head, forcing him to hold the rifle in a defensively over their head. The pressure from the saw caused its barrel to crack open and its owner to back on to a now slippery wet floor. A watery hand formed around his ankle forcing the assailant to hit the ground hard. The Liquidator released his grip and reformed himself next to his leader. "This is a limited time offer, act NOW” the hound shouted. As if on cue, roots sprouted from the ground and wrapped themselves around the shoulders and neck of its prey. A single yellow bud grew from it and sprayed the duck in the face. A yellow fog formed around the duck. Bushroot appeared by his comrades.

“That should knock him out cold,“ he said gesturing to his handy work sound quite confident in himself. They waited for the toxin to take effect as their captive gasping for air and thrashed helplessly. Finally, silence, as the fog of yellow cleared, revealing a motionless body on the ground. They approached. "Who the hell is this?” Liquidator asked, not caring if wasn’t speaking in his usual slogan like demeanor. Negaduck knelt close to the duck’s head and removed his goggles. He was taken aback.

The captive bared a striking to Darkwing Duck, but it didn’t make sense. The Masked Mallard never used lethal weapons. Was it another clone? “Why don’t we ask him?” Negaduck answered. “Bushroot, get the ropes and be snappy about it.” he barked. Bushroot ran to his task. Negaduck began to take off the prisoner’s gas mask, only to realize now that the prisoner was wearing a gas mask. “FucK’ was all Negaduck got to say before he saw a glint of the blade and his captive’s eyes flung open.

The duck headbutted Negaduck knocking him out of the away. In a quick motion, he produced a knife out from his coat, cut the vines and jumped to his feet. The duck reached in his coat again, and pulled out an opened white bottle and threw it. Liquidator reacted only long to read the label. Alka-Seltzer. Once the bottle made contact the effect immediately took hold. The Hound’s liquid body began to explode and sizzle with the acid, and he cried out agony. “Always want to try that,“ the sadistic duck said to himself quite satisfied. ”Sicko” it replied to itself in contradiction. The new duck knight turned his attention to Negaduck who was already on his feet.

Negaduck got a good look at his attacker’s face. It was, in fact, another doppelganger of Drake Mallard, but an unfamiliar one at that. He remembered back to when he and Magica De Spell, traveled through the multi-verse collecting Darkwings as test subjects for an old scheme, but he doesn’t remember this one. There was another feature that the duck had wasn’t right either. There was always a constant between the clones, whether the clone was a duck or any other form, they always sported a pair of blue eyes.

The duck before him had a blue eye and a red one. He also had long black grey hair tied in a ponytail, wore a black mask, and had a scar on his beak. He was also older than any of the Darkwing clones he had come in contact with. “Figured we’d cross paths eventually Starling.” Mallard started as he made his way to Negaduck. “Didn’t expect it to be so soon.” Drawing his knife up to his throat, and looked him dead in the eye.” Now…Where is he”. He demanded in a growl.

Negaduck, not amused, glared back him. “Sorry.” Negaduck said.“ But I’ve haven’t the slightest idea as to who you’re talking about.” He began to walk in a circle so his clone would have his back to the wall to the outside the wall. “Don’t play coy with us’ the other voice snarled. “Nothing happens in St. Canard without you knowing about it.” he pressed the blade so close to that it cut some of Negaduck’s feathers. A rush of adrenalin ran through Negaduck and filling him with excitement “finally,” He thought. I have been waiting for a challenge all night. “Where is Megavolt?” the Darkwing demanded in a rage.

Negaduck started laughing maniacally. “What is so funny?” asked the deeper voice. Negaduck looked him in the eye. “You Mallards are all the same.” He laughed. “anytime you think you have the situation under control…” His voice suddenly turned in to a smug growl. “It’s not.” Bushroot turned on a giant spotlight on the opposite side of the room, forcing the knife-wielding Darkwing to drop his knife and shield his eyes. Negaduck duck was a distraction and he fell for it.

Negaduck jumped his temporarily blinded target, pinning him to the ground and removing his mask an angry fanged duck. He looked 20 years older than the other clones. “Listen good you cloned freak,” He said with a snarl as he moved his hand to his throat.” I don’t know what gave you the gall to attack us, or what the Dimbulb did to piss you off, but believe me, you’re not going to like how I find out.” With that he took his free hand and struck him across his face, knocking him out for real this time. Negaduck got up, relieving his captive of his knife. Bushroot put the proper restrained the unconscious duck. The liquidator was finally able to stand, his body was still shaking from the foul acid.

Their leader handed his hound a piece of paper with an address on it. Thunder cracked as the rain continued to pour. Negaduck touch the inside of his coat again and sighed in relief. “It is still there,“ he thought. Negaduck looked around. "This hideout has been compromised,” Negaduck began, He turned to his Hound.” Use the rain to your advantage and go Megavolt, take him to this address.” The duck handed the hound a note. “Once you’ve done that, do not under any circumstances leave the area until we meet you there.” He warned. The mallard looked over at Quackerjack’s body, Bushroot had covered it with a tarp. The feeling he had before came back with a vengeance. “And don’t tell Megavolt, about what has happened, especially about Quackerjack. The last thing I need is him involve, at least not yet.” He ordered.

The Liquidator gave his boss a pained look. He was asking him, not that it wasn’t in his nature, to lie to his close friend and comrade, but he understood. Quackerjack had been the Electric Rat’s lover, if he tells him what happened, Megavolt would go into a rage and try to kill the murderer with his bare hands. Then they wouldn’t be able to find out why the trigger-happy duck was there in the first place. Besides, the dog lost one friend tonight he didn’t want to lose another. With a salute to Negaduck, he became a misty cloud and disappeared through the broken window into the night, leaving Bushroot and Negaduck with their captive.

Bushroot heaved the now bound duck over his shoulder and turned Negaduck for instruction. "What now,” He asked. Though he probably had a good idea. Negaduck began to leave and motioned Bushroot to follow.“ Now,” he said. “we are going to have a little chat with our “friend” here.“ He took the body from Bushroot and dragged it behind him. "Preferably somewhere no one can hear him scream.” Negaduck with Bushroot in tow disappeared deep into the warehouse.

St. Canard

Residence of Drake Mallard

Thunder roared outside and the lights flickered. Darkwing fiddled with his radio, a special gift from S.H.U.S.H. “Darn thing” he muttered as he tried to turn in to the police radio. The night had been quite much to his disappointment. He hated having to stay home from his duties. It wasn’t good for his ego. He abandoned the radio and fidgeted. Rain poured on, hitting the suburban home. He went up the stairway to bed, finally admitting defeat. Drake could the loud snores of Launchpad, who had already gone to bed. He passed his partner’s room to the room next to it.

He cracked open the door to reveal a disaster complete with hazards that would put the worst restaurant to shame. A young girl was sound asleep… for once. He closed the door and made his way to his room, and looked out the window one last time. He could hear Morgana’s voice in his head that the rain brings ill tidings, but he never believes such nonsense. The thunder cracked again this time cutting the power. Then again, he had been wrong before.

Back at the warehouse

'Wakey, Wakey.“ Negaduck said as if he were talking to a small child. The duck knight began to wake up, he was still in a dazed state and trying to find his bearings. “I said,” Negaduck’s voice turned into a menacing growl. “Wake up!” delivering a hard punch into his stomach knocking the wind out of him, but now he was alert. His body contorted together as a result of Negaduck’s "wake up call”, his body was pulled back by his restraints, making it worse. The Mallard was tied tightly to a chair by his legs and forearms. His hands were in handcuffs and wrapped behind him. He had been relieved of his armor and any weapons he had on him. All he had on was a loose grey t-shirt, black pants he had worn under his gear and his trench coat. They were in a small room, probably in another part of the warehouse. The room’s only light was a dinky overhead lamp. He needed to get away and resume his hunt. he had his trench coat, that was all he needed….and time.

“Did you have a nice nap freak?” Negaduck asked in a belittling tone. He grabbed the older ducks by the hair on his head and forced him to look him in the eye. The clone glared at his captor and promptly spat in his face. Negaduck’s face turned red with rage as he wiped his face off. “What’s the matter, Starling? A cocky voice came the Darkwing clone. “Did we hurt your ego?“ the other voice finished. At the mention of his real name, Negaduck proceed to brutally strike his prisoner hard to the point the chair toppled over. His ears began to ring as he hit the ground and his eyes began to roll to the back of his head.

(“You need to stay focused.”) The 1st voiced thought with a hiss, keeping him from passing out again. (“Sorry.”) The 2nd voice answered back in thought, he reached into coat so Negaduck wouldn’t notice, and procured a small black lock pick. Negaduck stood over his captive and resumed to beating, kicking, scratching, and punching his victim to a pulp. He held on tightly to the pick and endured the abuse until he had an opportunity to use it.

Bushroot could hear it all from the other side of the door. Negaduck had ordered him to stand guard in case something went wrong or worse he showed up. The sounds coming from in there was enough to make him sick. “I was a teacher once.” He thought. “I once wanted to make the world a better place. So how did I end up here?” At times like this, Liquidator would know exactly what to say, but he wasn’t here. He was out looking for Megavolt and keeping him away. Unbearable feeling loneliness befell him. "Oh, Bud.” He said aloud. “What should I do?” The noises lasted for several minutes.

Negaduck finally stopped his tantrum, and pulled the battered duck off the ground, still attached to the chair. The clone was covered in bruises, bleeding, and had broken ribs and jaw, but the old-timer has had worse. "How do you know my name? Only a handful of people know that!” Negaduck barked still in a rage. When he didn’t get an answer, he grabbed him by the scuff of his grey shirt pulled him up enough force to lift him off the ground, and smacked the already beaten mallard across the face. "Answer me damn you.” He roared as dropped his victim causing him to bounce in his chains and wentzed in pain.

The blooded duck laughed a little, then turned to his interrogator.” We know you better than you think boy.” The 1st voice replied. “In fact, we know you better than you know yourself.” It continued in an arrogant tone. “How so?’ Negaduck asked as he made his way around to the back, out of his captive’s sight.” We took notice of your little “adventure” threw the multi-verse, as you and that witch collected our kind.” The 2nd voice started. “We followed you on the slim chance that “he” would show up and take the opportunity put his own plan into action.” he continued. “Who?’ Negaduck asked.

The sly old duck had managed to break the lock on the handcuffs and his hands were free. He slid the lock pick back into the coat. The pick disappeared into thin air on contact. In its place, he pulled out a small easy to conceal knife and began to cut the ropes around his arms hidden by his trench coat. He tried to change the subject to buy himself more time. “We will ask you one more time.” The first voice spoke again.” Where is Megavolt.“ They both said in unison. Negaduck grabbed the back of the bird’s head and force him down backward, ripping off some feathers in the process. He was forced to look up at a glaring Negaduck.

"first of all,” the Negaduck started.“ I’m the one who is asking the questions not you. Secondly, why do you want to kill The Megablunder so badly? He can’t carry out an order correctly, let alone remember what day it is.” He was halfway through cutting the ropes.“ It is not what he is,” the 2nd voice answer. “but what he will most likely become.” Negaduck released his grip and walked back to the front of his schizophrenic doppelganger, and put his hand around his throat again. “And who or what might that be?” He said closing his hand tightly. The bruised and beaten mallard chuckled, “You know, we gave you too much credit.” The 1st voiced sneered. The ropes fell to the ground.

Before Negaduck could react, the older warrior pulled out a taser and jabbed it into Negaduck’s unguarded torso. The electricity coursed through his body like a bullet, making him let go of his neck. He put back the taser in his coat, pulled out a large knife and cut the ropes that bound his legs with one cut. The duck knight was free. He turned his attention to Negaduck. He wanted to finish the unstable duck right there and now, but it was pointless. “You learned nothing, from your travels across time and space.’ The 1st voice said disappointed nursing his wounds. Never underestimate the Masked Mallards of the Night. Some of them will kill you. Hell, we will if you interfere again.”

Negaduck was on his feet, ready to attack his escapee. The wounded duck reached into his into, his coat and pulled out a canister of tear gas and threw it Negaduck, gas began to spew out of it with a hiss. Negaduck backed off and used his cloak as a mask to defend himself from the gas. Once the gas dissipated the clone was gone. The door had been forced open and Bushroot had been knocked down. He was missing an arm, which was starting to grow back. He turned to his boss and darted to him.” He had chainsaw….“ He said. He looked like he had seen a monster. He pulled it out his coat as if it was some sort of magic trick.” Bushroot continued. It looked just like yours”.

Chapter 2

https://masked-mallards.tumblr.com/post/190635473064/masked-mallards-the-multiverse-and-everything

#my first fanfic #darkwing duck #hope it pleases

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iraniq · 7 years ago

Text

Imagine… Job

You recently got married to your boyfriend for 3 years, and fiance for almost 1.

He changed jobs often, workin in the IT sector was amazing and we’ll paid opportunity, but sometimes it dies unexpectedly, as it did now. He was studying for his exams, and you were forced to look for a second job.

4 months later you were still between jobs. Being fired of the solid one, because time schedule, wasn’t well accepted from your husband…

At the end of the week you found this… Dream job - one antique shop was looking for a seller. You sign all the papers and started the next day.

It was fine 1st week, till bills came, and money went short. Displeased you start looking for a second job, not with the idea to find one, just to make your husband shut up. He started complaining of you not cleaning and cooking, being constantly at work…at the same time he demanded you worked because you spend to much money… On his food and clothes, as he was too lazy to do it himself.

One night while you were locking the shop you saw someone let a flyer on the glass - “searching for a model”. There was a phone number. You didn’t even debate, and dial it. The voice that answerd was soft and intimidating. You talked a while and he ended up giving you his address, and making an appointment for tomorrow after work, as you worked half day at Sunday.

To your husband you said you were on a job interview, which wasn’t a lie after all.

As you got the address, there was a big old house, a huge yard and a lot of green. The day was warm and sunny. You entered the big metal door, and found someone standing next to a rose bush, adjusting one in particular.

- Hello…

- You came! - the voice said.

As he turned around, you saw the most amazing person you have ever seen. Dark haired with blue eyes. You realize you like this combination when you were around 10 maybe, and watched the Matrix, the main girl in the movie was back haired with pale blue eyes. It was odd but beautiful combination.

- Yeah… Why wouldn’t I?

- Your voice was trembling after I said I was searching for someone to pose naked.

- Well… - you laughed nervously - I don’t know you and you don’t know me… What’s the problem.

- I hope none. - he smiled.

He led you inside. Showed you all the rooms and let you pic one, for the painting.

As you made your pick, he let you take a shower and get comfortable. The one strict rule was no make up, no hairdo, not even nail polish. Everything must be natural looks.

At first it started with pencil drawings - short dresses, pajamas, underwear. It was the start of the autumn so, nakedness was pushed off for the spring.

For the 2 hours sessions you were doing he was paying you your weekly amount of money. You did already did 12 visitations - once in a week, matching his schedule and Sunday’s, when, after done, you often had afternoon breakfast or simply a tea. And the funny thing is he was still interested in you.

You on the other hand had already fallen for him. He was beautiful, intelligent and mature - perfect combination, also a gentleman and very funny, open minded person… You get the point…

You started rejecting your husband’s sex invitations, saying you are too tired, of the two jobs. One day in the week you lied you were at work and take 2 hours walk in the city for your own pleasure.

In the beginning of December your husband informed you he started the best job ever. No need for you to work… Worst day in your life. A huge fight followed when you say you preferred working, so you won’t be depending on him… Accusations followed… You were cheating on him, sleeping with someone, with your boss for example, because they keep on fireing you form other jobs, and now you have two… Not that you didn’t want to sleep with your painter, but you respect him too much to even smile in a flirty way. He was so kind, not taking any sort of advantage of you. Besides that your relationship was strictly professional. You go to bed mad. He tried to apologize, of course because he needed sex. You wanted to keep your secret life going, so you agree - it was horrible; his kisses were too sloberly, he was squeezing you too hard… Not being gentle where he should be… Was he this horrible before… We’re you blind?

At the end of February the worst thing happened - your painter canceled your Sunday meeting, no explanation, just simply text - “not today”. You locked the shop at the exact time. And spend the 2 hours crying. We’re you fat, or ugly… Or he found a prettier one, was it because you refused to pose naked on Wednesday? You take a walk, bought products, and throw your sadness at cooking. Delicious dinner, salad, even desert. As a “perfect” end of the day you had another horrible unwilling sex session with your husband, who doesn’t even cared if you enjoyed as long as he got to his pleasure point.

No message through the week. You got a happy news at Sunday morning - “today”. You were happy and smiling all day, apparently your positive energy was contagious because it was one of your best days, a lot of sails, even some new order arrived in time.

As you went in his house straight in your room, he was already there, waiting, the fireplace was burning.

- I am ready.

- Fine. - his tone was cold.

- No… I mean… If you still want me naked in the bed… - “fuck, this came up so wrong”.

His eyes sparkled.

- Ok then.

After 40 min. in, you couldn’t fight the need to pee, and bad to take a break.

- I am sorry… I had to. How was I lying?

- Doesn’t matter, I will start over… And don’t dare to apologize. I enjoy your shapes, you know that.

You chuckled.

- Actually I had no idea, I was so ashamed of my looks…

- It was about time!

- What?

- To confess this! - he said while taking another blank paper.

- Ha… - you laughed. You lied on your belly, facing him, with your feet in the air.

- I like this pose, please don’t move… You can talk, I beg on this… - he made a pause, sketching the proportions. - I’d love if you tell me what was the reason for your sadness last week. That’s why I cancelled our meetings.

What??? It was your fault you didn’t saw him?

- It was my husband. - you blured out. - at first he forced me to find another job, as he wanted to study for a higher qualification for his job, which was ok, but then he got very needy, and demand me to maintain his existence. And around 2 months ago he informed me he found well paid job, and that I had to quit my jobs, and when I said I won’t… There was the fight! Last week… I felt worthless and… Sad.

- You are married? - was all he said as he doesn’t looked away from his work.

- Yeah…

- I bet he is forcing you to sleep with him. Because you suddenly start feeling ashamed of how you look. - now he looked at you. - this is violence you know?

- Yeah…

- Then what are you letting him? - he left the paper and the pencil. - Don’t look away, I am talking to you… I was in, let’s say familar toxic relationship. I was also married, we even had a child, a boy. But we got divorced after I discovered the baby wasn’t mine… And she lied, because I was spoiling her too much. - he got silent and looked at your shocked face. - Yeah, I got played off too. - he lightly chuckled.

- Well… I am keeping my jobs so I can gather money and leave him.

- No need to, there is enough room for you here. - he smiled. - Shall we? - he collected his working tools and proceed drawing you.

Next Wednesday as you locked the antique shop, and walked out you saw a familiar figure waiting for you outside.

- What are you doing here? - you were so shocked, he had no idea where you were working. Was he following you.

- I came to take you to dinner… - he smiled. - We haven’t been on one for ages.

- We haven’t been on dinner at all.

He chuckled.

- Come on, don’t say no, not that you have plans after work.

- I have!

Your phone buzzed - “not tonight”.

- Better?

- Better. - you chuckled. - Where are you taking me?

- I am gonna came up with something while we are walking. - he said and smiled. - And if we got late, blame your boss.

- Sure will! … Why are you staring at me?

- I haven’t realized how beautiful you are. I am keeping you for myself. - he said in low voice and you just smiled. He was still staring.

——-

@diyunho @rhina988 @nikkitasevoli @auntiemama1 @wolfgirl1074 @sookieblack12 @spillinginkwithlove @cadeathens @fanalityfiction @lady-grinning-soul-k @lylabell2013 @larissaivanov @lostnorthofheaven @leto-madness @heavenlygaga @darthjokerisyourfather @elliegrace139

#jared leto #jared leto imagine #jared leto imagines #jared leto fanfiction #imagine jared leto #my writing #jared leto fanfic

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gobigorgohome2016 · 7 years ago

Text

In Pursuit of Fearlessness

I have started this post a handful of times and then stopped. I guess the biggest reason why is because, oddly, it seems too personal (strange, coming from the girl who has blogged about nearly everything personal over the past two years…)

But, I can walk away from the computer or close a screen (defiantly clicking, “yes, I want to leave this screen”) but I can’t keep the blog from being written in my head. The topic I’m balking at isn’t anything sordid or juicy…in reality it is probably, frankly, much bigger in my head than it is in real life.

I recently visited my energy therapist (woo woo alert ahead) to undo some of the wedding stress. Inevitably, she always brings up my running, despite not knowing a thing about competitive racing. Out of nowhere, she says I won’t see significant improvements until I let go of all my fear. She said that while I can use my mental game techniques to overcome fears and anxieties, I won’t truly be my best until I reach a point where I don’t even need them.

Woah.

My first instinct: defensiveness. She said something that made me feel embarrassed and vulnerable. I pride myself on being a fearless badass. In fact, today is the two year anniversary of my blog, which means today is also the two year anniversary of my big leap of fearless faith. That has to count for something, right?

But, when people say things that make us uncomfortable in an introspective way, there is usually a reason. While I do believe I am the most fearless version of myself that I have ever been in my 17 years (soon to be 18 years on August 1st!) of competitive running, I am not perfect.

I think I touched on this a little bit in my last post. For instance, the first race of the season is especially scary to me. The indisputable truth of exactly where your fitness is at is anxiety-inducing. Failure – however you define it – can be scary. Sometimes when I find myself being fearful before a race, I start to make excuses long before the race has even begun, or comprise exactly what I will say about it if it doesn’t go according to plan. And I hate myself for doing that. One thing that has helped me has been to “rewrite the story” and change the ending to something positive. Still, I want to be at a point where I don’t even have to call upon these workarounds.

Lately I have been setting an intention each month for myself, and July was to have no fear. I marked off two pages in my journal and each day I list something I have done (either that day or in the past) that was fearless. In my head, I have to wonder: what if I can shed even 1% or 2% of fear? What if that change led to a 10% gain in performance if I never again thought, “what if I lose?” “what if I’m not as fit as I think I should be?” “what if I disappoint myself?”

The entire week leading up to my race last Saturday (the USATF IN 5k championships), I couldn’t shake a lot of the what ifs. The funny thing – and definitely the part that that makes me mad at myself – is the fear is entirely internal. I have zero fear that if I have a bad race it will affect sponsorship, or that my internet supporters will judge me, or that I will never be able to bounce back. The biggest fear that I have is that I will have to deal with the disappointment that I will inevitably feel if I run slower than I think I *should*.

The morning of the race I didn’t want to be there. Well, I did, I was just in that weird runner limbo where you want the race to be over and to be feeling happy about a positive effort, but if the heavens opened and a pop up thunderstorm appeared you wouldn’t be too unhappy, either….

When I arrived, I recognized some familiar faces – including a friend of mine, Sarah. This was good and bad. My first thought: here is my out – assuming she is in shape, I don’t have a chance at winning this one because we are not evenly matched at the 5k (Sarah is a professional steepler coming off of a great track season), and now I don’t have to struggle with any disappointment if I fail. Guys, that’s a really stupid fucking thought. I went through my warm up feeling like this and then, about 15 minutes before the race, I remembered my intention for the month: be fearless.

When I first saw Sarah I decided my game plan would be to run my race and not worry about her if she took off hard. This was a way out. I could go with the excuse that I was just running my race.

Then, after I decided to be fearless, I decided that I was there to try and run as fast as possible, no matter who showed up that day. So, I decided I would take the race out as fast as I could. When a marathoner races a track person, you have to rely on stamina. Go out hard, hope you run the other person’s legs off.

I essentially went out as hard as I could, given my current fitness level (just coming off of 2 months of base building, running one fartlek a week and doing strides). I led us through ~2.5k before she made a huge move and put 40 seconds on me. I didn’t start my watch so I don’t know exactly what our mile split was, I do know that I went through 3k in 9:57 because someone was reading splits there. After Sarah dropped me, I focused on continuing to push. I went through 4k in 13:30 and finished in 17:04 to Sarah’s 16:23 (huge congrats to her- she said afterwards that was a road PR).

So, the thing I was afraid of all week wound up happening: I didn’t win. I didn’t get the $500 check that would have gone pretty far in paying our wedding bills. But, in the process, I ran my 2nd fastest 5k ever, which was by far my fastest season opener ever….and I’m not sure I have ever raced 5 months out from a goal race. Last year I did this race and ran 17:40 and was devastated; but, at the same time, 17:40 was also only a few seconds off of my then-PR, so I was just looking at that race with the wrong perspective.

This pic is from last year’s race. Compared to the picture from this year, I can see on my face that I am running from a different place, mentally.

At the end of the day, perspective is so important. There is something that I like to do towards the beginning of every training cycle, and that is to run a relay. Most years, that relay is Great Lakes Relay – a 3 day, 300 mile relay in northern Michigan that is as much navigation and strategy as it is speed.

The year we won - probably not coincidentally also the year we had a full team!

A couple years ago I did Red Eye Relay, which is an overnight, 110 mile relay in Bloomington.

This year, I am running the 8 hour Dream Endurance Relay with one of my bridesmaids and a volee teammate. The relay takes place from noon – 8 PM and we each plan to run just under 3 hours. The forecast looks like it is going to be in the 90s and humid.

I would argue that these relays are one of the most important things that I do in my training each year. For one, they build fearlessness. I have no worries about running in the heat for that long, because I have already experienced that in each relay I have participated in. Two, relays embody everything that is good about the sport: perseverance, accomplishment, teamwork, and the satisfaction of utter exhaustion. When running takes a step from hobby to kinda-trying-to-make-a-living-doing-this, relays are a really refreshing way to remember why you got started with this sport in the first place.

They’re also hard AF. Day 3 of Great Lakes Relay makes your legs feel unlike anything you have ever experienced. The day before my first marathon, I remember thinking that I had survived GLR three times, so a marathon was going to be far easier in comparison.

At this level of training and competing, I’m always amazed at how many slight changes can be made in search of incremental gains. I could run 110 miles per week instead of 100, and see improvement so long as I don’t break my body. Better attention to fueling and recovery makes a difference, as does working with a mental game coach and a massage therapist.

But, at the end of the day, how much does it matter if you still have fears that hold you back? This year is going to be the year of shedding any remaining fears that I have, and I’m happy that I seem to be off to a good start.

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writerspink · 6 years ago

Text

K-12 Words

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6.1

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8.2

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9.1

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9.2

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10.1

install reticent corroborate regretfully strength murder concise cunning intention holy satire query confused progression disillusion background mundane abrupt multiple enormously introduce emulate harmful pragmatic pity rebut liberate enthusiastic elucidate camaraderie disparage nature creep profitability impression racist sobriety occupy autonomy currently amiable reiterate reproduce cripple modest offer atom provincial augment ungratefully expansion yield rashly allude immigration silence epitome exacerbate somber avid dispute vindicate collaborate manufacturer embellish superficial propaganda incompetent objective diminish statistics endure ambivalent perpetuate illuminate phenomenon exasperate originality restrict anxiety anthropology circumstances aesthetic manufacturing conventional dubious vulnerable reality precedent entity success term critical repair underscore stepmother republican hesitantly classic wary contents prediction immediate invoke notorious implicit excluding input skeptical foster element punish frank humanity profound dessert orthodox substance disappear encourage neighborhood elder superfluous naive ascertain complacent resilient deafening military tend prudent glare acceptance skillfully induce monster beam gullible conciliate vessel petty cantankerous disclose archaeology anecdote disdain electronics substantiate subjective tourism advisable joyful incredible provocative psychological ruins discipline condone indifferent misfortune judgmental industrialize tasty assume astute mission mar protective definitely escape oppress shocked virtual zealous endorse qualification hostile eccentric abstract disparate geographical scrutinize generalization tolerate activity claim dogmatic influential obsolete extol implausible subsequent resource chronic benevolent improve confidential ambiguous seriously dearth perplex hatred throughout dine contemporary evoke essentially economic flagrant obscure alleviate eloquent dreaadful clumsy sympathy victim condemn vigor condescend spontaneous quell reprehensible substantially sleeve equivocal ironic decry errand articulate progressive eradicate refreshments elicit aspiration recently exemplary bribery theoretical disingenuous partisan revere particle nostalgia self-aggrandizement debunk tyranny rhetoric hierarchy warning whimsical venerate commend assert miserable awful vibe constrain undermine explicit differentiate compliment scrupulous contempt erroneous ideal refute imply cynical rash presume insight revival vary delay renounce indignant offensive temperate circumstantial export peep logo advertise suppress distort chunk convoluted denounce overwhelming fertility rigorous acquire arrogant university antagonize profitable indulgent strategic breathing idiosyncrasy profession frugal discern accommodation adversary incredulous disturbance digress social belie roam smug continual pertinent voluntarily elite subtle blame sincerity lick horror censure involvement candid infer futile impetuous exploit bewilder sustain diligent sincere protect sealed musical empathy callous parenthetical insure acorn sarcasm seize sacrificially allege emphatic irrelevant progress diplomatic stunned improvise deride reconcile meticulous deject scientifically incontrovertible pressure justify gloomy depict supplant endurance analogous diary bolster slip contemplate pesticide glow religious advocate negligent creator lament fundamental embrace throne inherent inferior valuable thrive trivial pretense reserved capricious refresh refusal flight boost explanation coherent prevalent tenacious official royalty assassin rub poach delete

10.2

warrant circumscribed somewhat explosive optimistic mandate previously detract opinion intuitive feasible intimate persistent humble simplicity tempt deliberate painful unethical fundamentals discrepancy remorse pessimistic possibility conclusion acknowledge impregnate soberly creation paralyze suitability oblige tranquil medal arbitrate pacify illusory susceptible vibrate vengeance infection democratic stressful grave speculative sample identification stifle obligation revenge organization namely mediocre practical scream weaken consensus affectionate deficient treacherous console isolation ingenious memory melodrama despair awestruck composition regret recommendation celebrity decision devoid opaque ornamentation longevity participate dread restore interrogate aid accordingly mislead embarrassment optimism domestic apt funds virtue geography fundamentally thoroughly press despite horrible chilling rental esteemed disappointment innovative contemplation assign popularize haunt deafen serene percent estrangement suffer extravagant throng estimate comment priesthood mass dreadfully promote periphery animated saying relate clarity triple derivative succeed distortion register suicide improvement discreet inquisition probable curative incident praise convenience baffle covet dreadful genuinely weary undisturbed disgruntled humility renown nonchalant monopoly comedy vague decisive inconsequential announcement fabricated nevertheless vigilant scarce neglectful hushed attainment tedious explode snatch pslm agency sentimental tension adhere meanwhile sacred avert conformity likewise challenger accessible responsibility peril contact event roast fallible catastrophic competitor violate resolute deceive exaggeration discredit intolerable approve paste dimly novelist demeanor norm politician satisfaction obvious vehicle reservation defer involve restoration crush audible assistant backpack attain inanimate commemorate confrontation emigration parasite disperse quantitative laughter policy vulgar occasionally repay effective eulogy starvation empty therapeutic overall immortal encompass inappropriate opportune engagement illustrate turmoil observatory classification expression reminiscence comedian invention depress remedy protagonist gesture texture diplomatic election prolong conducive emotional invigorate curiosity expressive %

K-12 Words was originally published on PinkWrite

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nielelendar · 5 years ago

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Don’t mind me I need this

- finding the last pictures you like yourself in it are more than 1 year old

- you actually kinda loved yourself at that moment, maybe that’s why

- trying to figure out what went wrong

Well first I was doing something I liked and was actually good at, which is litterature studies. The pictures stop when I stop the college in may.

Then I was operated in may. Like it’s supposed to be my new life, no more binders and shit.

I didn’t feel very happy at the hospital. Everything seemed forced. My family was there but the appreciation I have for their support hides the fact I actually kinda wanted them not to be here? My girlfriend also came, and friends. Did I wanted to be alone? Maybe that’s a “me” thing. I couldn’t get it. Live it. Because there were too many people around and I had to concentrate on how to react relatively to them so I couldn’t be in touch with what I was feeling and what was happening to me.

When I saw my friends who tend a coffee shop, who are not close friends, the guy who is a great sensitive guy almost cried from the fact that I was finally having surgery. I saw his eyes getting glossy and I had to stop myself from crying. I mean, he was just happy for me? And that’s the first time I felt happy about my surgery. That I could connect with actual emotion. Like seing another person allowed me to be happy, to feel things.

But I also felt very, very lonely.

My mom who initially was against me having a chest surgery helped me pay a part of the bill and came with me to the hospital. She was there for me, right? I wasn’t rejected neither by my father neither my mother.

And still... it felt like everyone just waited for me to set the tone, to be happy, and they’d be happy for me then. And I wasn’t. I wasn’t unhappy either. I knew it had to be done, I wanted to do it, I was glad it was done.

I felt like I had waited too long. I was ready for this a year before. Maybe that’d had been too early. Everyone around me felt that way, that I was rushing things because I was only six monthes, a year into my transition? And I didn’t have the money. But that’s the moment I *wanted* it. I was making my body my own. But no. I waited. It hurt, you know? I know it hurt every moment and I just got used to it. Numbing myself. Forgetting myself again. And then I felt I did it but it was too late. It was just “fixing”.

Looking at my chest pictures pre-op is just so alien it makes me laugh. It’s obvious a male chest is what I needed. It’s so obvious to me I can’t find words to say it, I’m transgender baby, it’s just fact. A fact no one gets around me. Can people accept your transition and still not get it?

I don’t know. At first I liked the hurt when nerves were reconnecting. So I felt it was real. But then it felt numb. My tits felt nothing. Scars felt nothing. I did shit and got one of my scars larger. I barely took pictures and couldn’t get myself to post it on the forum I wanted to share them. Looked like laziness, I was busy. Same for massages. Skin was hard, it hurt under my pitarms where the drains were.

At some points I thought the areola were too big poped into my mind and I couldn’t see it differently. Then I noticed it wasn’t properly symetric and I kinda lost it inside? I mean, I could have done a periareolar but I went for the scars because I thought I’d be sure of the position of the areola. I felt they were a bit too low with peri and that they would be perfect ; scars were supposed to remind me who I was, and I also took the most pricey surgeon because I wanted it to be perfect and he has this reputation.

Yeah, I wanted it to be perfect. Maybe I’m a bit of a control freak.

And here I am with one tit round and the other oval, one bigger and one smaller, one higher and one lower.

My skin never was good for healing so I don’t know what I expected. The points around the areolas made them look like stars, and because of the cream I used on scars I had ugly long dark hair growing only on the scars, the lower part of my pecs.

But I’m not supposed to feel that way. I’m not supposed to be disappointed, and it’s my own fucking choice. And it probably looks better than a lot other chests, hell I know many would love to have it. Ah, and there was the issue with my left tit. Necrosis that was never called this way by the surgeon (it’s a scab my ass) and left it discolored, pinky in the middle and a bit distorted. Maybe I wasn’t ready to deal with all this shit. It could have been so much worse and objectively my chest looks fine. It’s a nice transgender chest.

But maybe this was hard and a traumatism for my body and instead of dealing with it head on, I was to busy using my energy building a façade where I have no disphoria because it’s not socially acceptable to have it. And I say that but I complained and it makes me feel like I’m whining. Never moving on. My gf is dealing with her own dismorphia and I get a lot of “this is the body you gotta live in” or maybe it’s my brain who’s distorting everything. She’s trying to accept she can be beautiful in her own way when I’m trying to change my body. I’m full of guilt for not being ever happy, for still complaining rn...

No one else than me should have been taking care. It was my responsability to face this hardship. Of knowing what’s good for me. Of asking for help when needed. Of prioritizing. But instead it was just a cross in my to do list, and feeling bad just a waste of time.

I’m supposed to be ok now. Two years into transition was the limit I felt I had. People love me when I’m happy and confident. I had my year to study, begin a new path, meet new people, everything was awesome. And that’s it, I tried to shut down the trans path and push back the fact I was not fine.

May-June-July 2018. It’s the moment when I really got into the my hero academia fan mindset. I wrote my first fanfics in years. I drew again a bit. In a burst of confidence, I accepted a work from the same friend that had cried over my operation. I was so happy I could imagine characters and draw pictures out of my mind, even if a lot were crappy, but at the same time couldn’t deal with rejection. When I posted my shit here and got no like, it fucked me up. And I couldn’t do the work. Part of it was just too hard technically. I drown in guilt and self shame of having been payed and doing nothing but procrastination. I had to go and say to them I couldn’t do it. They just left me a part of the job that was in my reach.

It took me a year to do this job. I don’t know, it took me maybe, a dozen hours in total? I just finished it yesterday night. And all this time it was a big weight on my mind. I couldn’t be myself around those people I liked and admired. I was the one who can’t do things properly and finish up and... stuff have an expiration date. When it’s passed there is no joy in it and no pride at all. Everything’s worthless no matter the time I put in it to compensate.

Everything was suspended this year. I feel the urge to move on but trully I want to move back, to stop and to be alone. I want to shake me up, to hit me and bully me into being a fucking adult. I also want to lie down and cry and being able to admit I’m not happy. I’d want to take care of myself but I’m so ashamed not having money. I don’t have clothes I like anymore but I can’t buy new ones. And I should find a summer job but time passes and I’m just doing everything and nothing.

I haven’t felt like myself in a long time. I’m obsessed with the fact it’s a privilege to even have that luxury when people work and exaust themselves surviving.

So yeah, I’ve finished those paintings one year late. Like I had my surgery one year late. And I’m still processing or obliteratings feelings from that time. It’s really frustrating to have been... well, I was anxious and cried very often but I was myself at some point. I’d prefer crying and facing things.

I have almost 0 pictures of this year. My pride disappeared somewhere. I went to Japan and I felt it was too late too. It was my dream, 10 years ago I promised I’d be back but again. I felt a lot of things. Tried to do that big project. Felt it wasn’t mine. That’s wrong, wrong, wrong. Yet this is how I felt. It took me such a big effort every step of the way.

I’m not now. I don’t feel like I’m on the right path. Even if I do things I’d say I’ll do a long time ago. Everyone is staring at me waiting for me to become something. I want to shut down and disappear, not litteraly but... I’m going to Japan like an escape. Part of me want to keep promises. The other who’d like to be a stranger knowing no-one to allow me a new beginning. I know my tendency to forget doesn’t help me to build myself. How many new beginning do I need? But knowing it’s an escape doesn’t change a thing. I feel like a lier. I said one year ago I was a writer. And I haven’t made a single movement since then. I was really happy when I attended storywriting sessions, then I stopped. I was really happy I could study litterature and analyze texts, then I stopped. I kept the Japanese for a dream, but it was in litterature I was really shining. It feels my brain had expanded and I loved its speed.

I felt I betrayed my teachers and drowned in guilt again. But I betrayed myself actually. Japanese studies are not a third as interesting as those were. I don’t use my brain or my talent. I’m terrified by creation and being an artist. Academia isn’t welcoming and I have left out the occasion to be in the field I was the most attracted to.

I’m searching a job but feel it’s already too late. Well, it is. Fuck I’m two monthes before leaving. I’m not ready at all. I’m acting like I have no time limit and can get my shit sorted out taking my time... I hate time.

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marcusssanderson · 6 years ago

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20 Things You Are Wasting Money On

Are you aware of how you’re wasting money?

Imagine being able to save money without impacting your lifestyle by getting control over the items that you’re wasting money on.

Before you start to slash your budget and cut out the fun, re-evaluate the ways that you spend without thinking.

Here are 20 ways you’re wasting money and how you can change this spending. Discover how to stop throwing away your cash now.

Things you are probably wasting money on

Overdraft Fees.

Overdraft fees can be as high as $35 per transaction, so if you have 3 overdrafts per month then you end up spending $105 in fees. What could you do with the extra money?

You can prevent this by maintaining a cushion in your checking account to reduce the risk of over drafting the account.

ATM Fees.

ATM fees are really harsh because the bank servicing the ATM and your bank both charge you fees to access your money. Planning in advance will help to reduce ATM fees. If you know that you will need cash, then plan in advance to get cash from your bank.

Search the web to find ATMs owned by the bank where you have your checking account. Use those ATMs only. If you are in a situation where there are no bank-owned ATMs nearby, then go to a place like CVS were you can get cash back.

Late fees.

Late fees add up quickly. Just imagine paying a bill late every month and each late payment included a fee of $15. Over the year you would have paid $180. What could you have done with the extra money?

Reevaluate how you structure your bills to ensure that you have adequate cash flow to pay your expenses on time. Also, consider setting up automatic payment to minimize the likelihood of paying bills late.

Unused subscriptions.

Look at your bank statements to identify subscription services or automatic monthly expenses that you don’t use. For example, if you have a gym membership that goes unused, then cancel it.

If you have multiple streaming services that you don’t use, then cancel it. To avoid wasting money, don’t pay for things that you don’t use or need.

Clothes that sit in the closet.

Shopping used to be one of my biggest budget busters. I would by clothes because they were on sale or because I thought that I needed to have it to be in style.

Inevitability, those clothes went unworn and wasted space in my closet because I didn’t have a plan for when I would wear them and if I really needed them.

Buying things because they on sale.

If you find an item on sale, evaluate whether you would buy the item if it was full-price. If the answer is no, then put it back.

Grocery shopping without a list or while hungry.

Have you ever grocery shopped while hungry? If so then you probably ended up with a ton of extra food in your cart, and you walk out of the store with way more stuff than you planned to buy and may even go to waste.

Before you walk into the store, survey your cabinets and determine your meals for the week. After you do this, then create the list and stick to it.

Food waste.

According to a study by the National Resource Defense Council, the average American family wastes on about $2,200 of food per year. That’s literally throwing money away.

To reduce food waste use a grocery list, buy less, keep track of when items expire, and also get creative about using all of the food before it goes to waste.

Buying items for convenience.

A bottle of water at the gas station can cost $1.50 versus about $.10 if you buy a bottle of water in bulk. The cost of water can be even less if you fill up a refillable cup. Try to minimize convenience purchases by planning in advance.

Dining out daily.

Nearly 70 percent of Americans say they waste money on eating out.

You can dine out, but be aware of how often you dine out and how much you spend. If you buy dinner 5 times a week and pay $15 each time then you will spend $3,900 over the course of a year.

Even if you scaled back to 2 times per week then you will save $2,340/year. To reduce the cost of dining out, plan meals more, look for dining discounts, and try to take half of your meal home to cut the cost in half.

Not maintaining your health.

Medical costs are expensive and according to a study by Harvard University, they are also the number 1 cause of bankruptcy in the United States.

Avoid high medical costs, focus on prevention by maintaining a healthy lifestyle and going to the doctor and dentist for regular check ups.

Cable bill

Wasting money on cable services that you don’t even use? With all of the streaming service options, it makes a lot of sense to cancel your cable.

You still have to determine internet, but if you cut the cable then you can reduce your monthly costs and only pay for the services that you use. PC Mag has a great story about what your T.V. options are if you cut the cord.

Idle electricity

According to a study by the National Resource Defense Council idle electricity costs are responsible for about 25% of your electricity bill. Idle electricity costs are due to appliances and other plugged in items that draw electricity even though they are turned off.

To reduce idle electricity costs is to plug items into a power strip and then turn the power strip off when the items aren’t in use. Also, contact your utility company to see if they can do an energy audit to see where you can save money.

Forgetting that the small stuff matters.

Evaluate your bank statements to see where you are spending less than $10. If you use cash, then keep the receipts for 30 days and evaluate how much you spent. Becoming aware of how you spend will enable you to make better spending decisions going forward.

Interest fees because of bad credit.

The cost of major purchases that require financing varies dramatically based on your credit score. For example, if you have good credit, then you may qualify for 0% or low interest loan

Impulse shopping.

Impulse shopping is the urge to buy. This can destroy your budget because you will spend money without a plan and without thinking. This can result in overspending and not having enough money to pay bills.

To stay on track and avoid wasting money, wait 3 days before making an unplanned purchase to take the emotion and fear of loss out of the purchase.

Not renegotiating services.

You have more power than you think because it costs more to acquire a new customer than it is to retain a new customer.

Stay abreast of the deals offered to new customers and ask for your existing cable, internet, cell phone company, etc. to match those discounts.

Paying for things that you can do yourself.

This one used to be hard for me because it is easier to outsource than it is to do things myself. However, I had to determine what made sense to outsource and what to do myself.

Before you decide to outsource, decide if you can do the task yourself and how much time it would take you to do it. Also, evaluate whether or not your children can help out. If it makes sense to do it yourself, then watch a YouTube instructional video and get going!

Buying new and not used.

Buying used saves a lot of money. If you have a child, then buying used will save a lot of money. As a mom, I buy as much as I can used because children outgrow clothes very fast and baby gear is expansive and you need a ton of it.

I also buy my own clothes used because I can usually get better stuff for less money. The key is to avoid buying more because of the lower cost.

Not using online coupons.

Online coupons are easy to use. Before you complete your checkout process, do a search for the name of the company and “online coupon” to see what comes up. Look for coupon codes through sites like Retail Me Not or you can use ebates to get cash back on your purchase.

Which areas are you wasting money on?

Now that you know where you may be wasting money and how to fix it. Look at these ideas and determine which area is costing you the most money and then start there. Once you fix that area, then move on to another. Good luck!

The post 20 Things You Are Wasting Money On appeared first on Everyday Power.

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theparaminds · 6 years ago

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If you asked for a single word to describe Satchy and all he encompasses, it would simply be soul. Through a lifetime of listening and learning, Satchy has developed a soul more unique than many could imagine, more human than many thought possible. He expands and explains it through music in ways and motions strikingly honest and as beautiful as lush summer sunsets.

He puts intense care both to every individual note and melody, but also to his reflective, and often connecting, lyricism. Taking these two elements he blends together a musical smoothie rich both in flavor and variety, full of talent and impossible to replicate under any circumstances.

With past experience on his side and skills improving daily, the future is brighther than ever before for Satchy. He knows in his heart what he is able, and committed, to accomplish. He knows how far he is able to take his visions. All he has to do now is create with the undying passion within his heart.

Our first question as always, how’s your day going and how have you been lately?

Been going pretty good! Just started school and I’ve finishing up this new album.

It might seem like a strong start, but your name and what it encompasses to your sound is extremely unique. What do you find it means to you and how have you reflected it within your work?

The whole thing with my name is pretty funny because people would call me "Satchy" when I was younger as a sort of annoying nickname, and I would act like I hated it, but secretly really liked it. I've also just been through so many stage names and "satchy" was the only one that seemed simple and not corny. I really wanted a name that reflected the simplicity of my music and with satchy being a one-syllable, unique, pretty simple word, I thought it fit as my name perfectly.

What other experiences or forces within your life, growing up or currently, have had a part in shaping your sound? What has really made you who you are artistically?

My community honestly. When I was younger I was really into going to underground local punk and indie shows and that fast-paced, DIY energy always stuck with me. I try to keep that energy in my music and live performances especially. Also, with all my best friends being jazz musicians, them introducing me to jazz gave me this whole new musical tool to find new ways to express myself and also get in touch with my culture. My mom and my dad have also both been raising me on black music and that really had a huge part in my building my sound today because it just showed me the importance of soul and melody in music. And just falling in and out of love throughout my life has been something that has shaped my sound and way of writing because love has a huge factor in my life and in my music.

What is currently your greatest daily inspiration?

Well, I'm constantly listening to music and searching for new music, so that already inspires me but really my friends and family really inspire me. All my best friends are my roommates and they are all jazz musicians so they are always sharing so interesting and sick tracks with me, whether its soul or free jazz. My dad is a painter whose very influenced by jazz and all black music so he's always showing me the classics. My momma is more into soul so she's always playing that stuff and that always inspires me.

When making the decision to take music seriously, and to truly pursue it, did anxieties and fears exist and if so, how did you tackle them, and if not, why do you believe you were fearless?

I definitely was feeling weird about taking music seriously at first. But seeing people relate with it and bring them joy really showed me that this career was something to pursue not just for me, but also to all the people that connect with it.

You’ve been someone who’s been fearless in releasing music, you’ve always been consistent and always on the move with music. How have you found consistency to be important to your creativity and is it something you hope to continue going forward?

I just kind of make music all the time because I'm constantly inspired by my friends and roommates and such. I'm also just always listening to music all the time so I'm constantly getting inspired to create. Lately though, I haven't been working a lot, mostly listening, I put so much energy into making this last album that my creative juices have sort of fizzled out, but still, work on little things when I can.

In your eyes, is there a central theme or ideology you hope resonates with listeners, or are you just expressing yourself without thought of what it means to others? Simply doing what you need to do in that case.

At first it was just for myself because I didn't really know how else to express my sad feelings into anything but music, but now that I've seen that people really relate with the music and what I'm saying, I'm starting to not only make music just to express myself but also for the people. Especially with this next album, I'm sticking with my normal subject matter of heartbreak and falling in love, but with a bit more of a hopeful vibe. I wanna show the people it's okay to feel shitty sometimes but always try to overcome those shitty times. Fight the negative with positive if that makes any sense.

With future projects, what aspects of your music do you see as key to improve and grow overall? What do you see as development points for yourself?

I've improved a lot with just song structure lately. Before I would just do a very simple verse chorus verse kind of thing, but nowadays I've been working a lot on how a song progresses and the dynamics of the song. Also just taking things a bit faster. I've been listening to a lot of classic disco and funk stuff and I really like that sweet soulful vibe the music gives and I really wanted to incorporate that into my own music. As for me, I've just sort of grew out of my whole sad boy phase and am just looking more for inner hope and inner joy.

Though, overall, what about your art has made you most proud thus far? What has it been, in a sense, keeping you going and always striving for excellence?

I've just been proud that my music touches people and helps people. That's what really keeps me going.

What are the most important, unshakable goals you’ve set for yourself, and what would achieving them mean to you?

If we're talking small goals for this year it's definitely to put this album out and do a whole country round tour. My big goals are to be able to become successful enough to pay for my momma’s bills and see all my family and homies striving, happy, and successful as well.

As well, as someone still coming up, you’ve been really active with live performances, how have you found that experience to be and what importance exist within it for you?

Performing live has taught me so much. Just about how to grab an audience, and it lets me experiment and see what sounds good with a song and what doesn't. It's like practicing but you’re doing it for something bigger than yourself or your bandmates.

If you could go back in time and witness a single live performance, who’s would it be of and why would that be your choice?

There's a lot but I'd really just love to see any performance from D'Angelo when he was performing with "The Soulquarians". They just groove so hard in their performances, it's sometimes just low key better than the recordings because it’s just so raw and on the spot. Super fucking impressive.

While relating to time travel, which is never easy to escape once touched on, what would be the lesson you would pass on to a younger Satchy if you ever got a chance to speak to them?

Dude I would tell younger Satchel to just do your own thing. When I was younger I use to really try and make the music that was cool and never just followed my own taste as I should have.

Do you have anyone or anything to shoutout or promote? The floor is yours!

Yeah shout out to my pops, my momma, my little brother, and my bandmates, check out Sean Tarpey, he plays guitar in my band and also makes beautiful music.

Follow Satchy on Instagram and Twitter

Listen on Spotify and Apple Music

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authorjanolan · 8 years ago

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A Writer’s Life

Random (But Well Meaning) Stranger: "What's it like to be a writer?"

Me: "Do you really want to know the truth?"

Random Stranger: "I've always wanted to write a book/I have this idea for a book I want to publish."

*Deep Breath*

Crippling self-doubt. Wondering if the world you create is interesting enough, original enough or real enough on paper. Spending hours researching random stuff on Google just to make one sentence realistic enough. (Just this week: Police 10 Codes, Modeling, Stalker Behavior, Search and Rescue Procedures, Cross Species Genetics, Blood Loss, Body Decomposition Stages, Self-Defense Laws, Funny Coffee Mug sayings, and Gun Shot Wounds) Absolutely sure you are now on some interwebs Government watch list, and in the back of your mind wondering when the Men In Black will come knocking on the door.

Spending even more time outlining, drafting, writing, editing, revising, rewriting, and comparing your work to other people's and wondering if you measure up. You are sure you don't, but you try to keep plugging along on that manuscript.

By the end, you end up hating what you wrote and convincing yourself it's the worst thing that has ever been written in the history of the world. (It's never that bad, but in that moment, logic has left the building.)

There are a lot of tears, banging of head on desk and lots and lots of coma-inducing sugar to keep you functioning, and cuddles with your fuzzy writing buddies, because they don't judge you like you judge yourself.

Regularly not falling asleep, or waking up at 2 am. Either way, you can't sleep. Characters insist on "working" and won't shut up. "Why did you make me like him/her?" "I would never say that!" "But...but... I want to LIVE!!!!" "Get to work!"

"No! Sleep!" Grumble. Grumble.

"There are more of us, than there are of you..." One of them randomly starts singing the most annoying song ever. "We aren't going away until you fix that last chapter." There's that one broody one in the corner, glaring. Another one is jumping up and down. "PARTY TIME! WHOOHOO!" "Get up! We want to play! Get up!" The four year old is squealing.

*Glares blurry eyed at way to bright computer screen* "You will all suffer for this!"

Typing. Typing. Typing. "I don't think that is the right way to spell that word." Stare at it for five minutes. "Nope. Gotta fix it." You change a vowel. It looks even more wrong now. Change around a few more letters. It's now so wrong spell check can't help you. (It was right the first time, but it looked wrong. Because, no sleep.) You mutter to yourself "Whatever. That's what editors are for." and plug along.

Because it makes the imaginary people in your head happy. And quiet. The whole world is quiet. There are no noisy distractions. Because normal people sleep.

Four hours later. Birds are starting to chirp. You haven't moved from the chair in so long, your ass fell asleep. Sleep is good. Sleep? Food? It's light outside? Wait. What day is it?

Falls into bed, utterly physically, mentally and emotionally spent. You wake up eight hours later, look at what you wrote and end up spending another six hours rewriting the middle of the night scribblings, because now it makes no sense and you have no idea what you were trying to do.

You repeat the same thing four nights in a row, because the second your head hits the pillow, the characters are whining again.

At some point, you have to remember to be human. Shower. Put on clean clothes. Do the dishes. Make food. Eat. Shuffles to the fridge, stiff and hobbling because you haven't been outside for a walk in the last week. "Where did all the food go? I don't remember eating all the food." Is that chinese/pizza/random leftovers still edible? Nope. Nope. Nope. *Throws away the entire container because you are so NOT washing that.* You end up eating a pickle. You have to go grocery shopping. Oh, and try to talk to other humans. But you've been so stuck in your book world of elves/dragons/space pirates/vampire/werewolf/cowboy/ghosts and so sleep deprived, you can't really hold a normal conversation with real people anymore.

Random stranger stares at you horror, but trying not the laugh.

*Another deep breath*

And then if you do manage to produce something halfway publishable, from your sleep deprived brain, it's expensive as hell to edit, publish, market and advertise. You don't have a steady paycheck. Most publishers only pay you quarterly. That's once every three months. You know that brand new paperback book you bought for $8? Publishers make about 70% of the profits. And if copies of your book don't sell, bookstores send them back. They receive their money back. Not from the publishers profits, but yours.

After all this, most authors only make about $1 per book sale. Which they usually put back into marketing and advertising, because publishers expect you to do most of that yourself. This is why a lot of author self-publish. But that is expensive and hard to do, even when Amazon isn't screwing around with your books and deleting the reviews they don't like. No matter which route you take, you have to pay taxes on every dollar you make, just like everyone else. So the government takes almost half of every $1 you make. Which is whatever you didn't sink back into advertising and marketing.

To be successful enough to pay your bills, eat and live a halfway decent life (not homeless) , you have to write and publish constantly, which means you have next to no social life. Family and friends hate you for that. "It's not a real job" "It must be nice to not have to work so hard." Very few people in your life are understanding and supportive. The people that are, you cling to like a life preserver. Because they are so rare.

The truth is, many of us have to have day jobs we absolutely hate, just to not starve. On the side, we take crappy freelance ghostwriting jobs from people who have no idea how much time it takes to write something worth reading. Because they are too lazy to write that book for themselves. Others have a different kind of project they need done. They have convinced themselves it shouldn't take you more than an hour, so they don't think they should have to pay a decent price for all the time, energy and effort it takes to produce good quality work. Then there are people who try to get you to edit their work for free, or so cheap that it's not worth it to take the job. The entire time, you are wondering when you will be able to afford to get back to writing your own work.

So that's three jobs right there, and you are still barely scraping by just trying to pay for your own health insurance and basic living expenses. On no sleep, because with all that, you still have to find time to write your own book.

To top it off, now many readers expect you to give away years worth of your blood, sweat and tears work for free, (because the $2.99 price tag on Amazon is just sooo unreasonable!). Never mind that they spend $10 on a latte and pastries at Starbucks twice this week, or that the $2.99 is LESS THAN HALF what they would pay for a paper copy of the book). Nope. They wan't it free. Because why should they be expected to pay for a book? (Have you ever noticed, no one expects artists or jewelry makers, or candle makers, or musicians to give away their creations for free? Or how their creations cost more than $2.99?) Authors have bills to pay too. But, it seems that no one else sees the absurdity of the "books should be free" campaign.

Random Stranger: "Oh my god! Really?" Me: Nodding. That's not all, folks.

Even if someone does decide to give away their books for free or just 99c... People still find something to whine about.

Lately, they complain if a fictional character does something they personally find offensive in real life. A fiction character. As in, not an actual person. A fake person. In a story. A story meant to do nothing but entertain. But they lose their mind over it, because "How dare you describe the character like that! You can't use words like "caramel" to describe skin color anymore! It's racist/sexist blah blah blah"

Really? But what if that really is the color of the skin? NO! It's racist! Since when? ......(No one knows) Who decided that? .......(No one knows)

You wonder to yourself exactly who decided they were so important, they have the right to decide what words authors can and can't use. When the truth is, no one owns the entire English language.

Everyone else seems to still have the right to freedom of speech, but not an author these days. Nope. Now we have to be so "politically correct" we can't even use the words we want to use. Now every story has to be so PC "sensitive", publishers are actually hiring "sensitivity readers" to judge your work for a certain level of PCness, as to not risk offending anyone. Basically, as an author, you have to become a "social warrior" and pick a cause or a side to belong to. Apparently, writing and sharing your work is not about your story anymore. You can't just entertain people. You have to make sure you never dare to write anything that could possibly, maybe, almost offend a single one of the 7 billion people on the planet.

Because if one person throws a big enough fit, you're branded an awful human being and a terrible author. You know it's completely unrealistic and ridiculous expectation that NO ONE can live up to. Because NO ONE can possibly please everyone on the planet. Even if a writer does their very best to be as sensitive and PC as possible, there is still going to be someone, somewhere, that decides it's not PC enough for them, or the character doesn't represent a certain lifestyle type or culture of people well enough.

(This is a form of bullying that the masses has deemed acceptable and appropriate. Cyber-bullying is not okay. Bullying at all is not okay. This kind of crap is the reason children hurt themselves. But you know what? Kids aren't the ones doing this to authors. Adults should know better. You can't have a no-bullying campaign for your kid at school, to teach kids not to bully, when you are the adult on the internet, being a bully. You can't have it both ways. It doesn't work that way.)

But most writer's don't dare point out how absurd the whole writing and publishing process has become. Nope. You can't say any of that. You can't defend yourself, or your work, in any way because then you are labeled as "The Unprofessional Author". No matter how professional you actually are.

So, then that one person who is pitching a fit over some imagined slight in a fiction story you wrote ten years ago (and barely remember), is trying to publicly shame you and boycott the book on social media. So your current book sales tank even more, and you get long, ranty reviews from people who haven't even read the book. Or you get critics that think their personal opinion is the only one that matters. This is usually from people who have nothing constructive or helpful to say, because they have never written a book themselves. They don't really know what they are talking about, because they don't work in the industry.

As a writer, if you let this kind of bullying get to you, you will never publish anything. So, you do your best to realize the utter ridiculousness of it all and just keep writing YOUR story how YOU want it to be.

Random Stranger: *wide eyed* "I thought writing would be easy."

Writing is not easy. Writing is not glamorous. Writing is not a way to get rich. Writing is not a hobby.

Writing is a job that authors hardly ever get paid enough for. If they are lucky enough to get paid at all.

See, hobbies are what people do for fun, in their free time. Writer's have to work damn hard to scrape by, and have very little free time. Sometimes (often) writing stops being fun long before the first draft is ever written. Writers are not rich people. Some are. But most of us will never see that kind of cash unless we are very, very lucky. Most of us can't afford to give away anything for free, because we barely make pennies off of a single book sale. There is no guarantee anything we write will sell well at all.

Random Stranger: "So...if it's so hard, why do you write?" Me: "Because if I don't, the people in my head will never shut the hell up and let me sleep."

Random Stranger: "Is it really worth all that hard work?"

Me: "Absolutely! I love my job. I wouldn't want to do anything else. Write like no one but you will ever read it. Write because you must, no matter how hard it is. Writing because your passion for words and stories is bigger than all the fears. Write because you love to write. In the end nothing else matters."

#truthbetold #truth #writer #writers #writerslife #writers on tumblr #nofilter #nofear #justdoit #encouragingwords

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marcusssanderson · 6 years ago

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20 Things You Are Wasting Money On

Are you aware of how you’re wasting money?

Imagine being able to save money without impacting your lifestyle by getting control over the items that you’re wasting money on.

Before you start to slash your budget and cut out the fun, re-evaluate the ways that you spend without thinking.

Here are 20 ways you’re wasting money and how you can change this spending.

Things you are probably wasting money on

Overdraft Fees.

Overdraft fees can be as high as $35 per transaction, so if you have 3 overdrafts per month then you end up spending $105 in fees. What could you do with the extra money?

You can prevent this by maintaining a cushion in your checking account to reduce the risk of over drafting the account.

ATM Fees.

Late fees.

Unused subscriptions.

Look at your bank statements to identify subscription services or automatic monthly expenses that you don’t use. For example, if you have a gym membership that goes unused, then cancel it.

If you have multiple streaming services that you don’t use, then cancel it. To avoid wasting money, don’t pay for things that you don’t use or need.

Clothes that sit in the closet.

Shopping used to be one of my biggest budget busters. I would by clothes because they were on sale or because I thought that I needed to have it to be in style.

Inevitability, those clothes went unworn and wasted space in my closet because I didn’t have a plan for when I would wear them and if I really needed them.

Buying things because they on sale.

If you find an item on sale, evaluate whether you would buy the item if it was full-price. If the answer is no, then put it back.

Grocery shopping without a list or while hungry.

Before you walk into the store, survey your cabinets and determine your meals for the week. After you do this, then create the list and stick to it.

Food waste.

According to a study by the National Resource Defense Council, the average American family wastes on about $2,200 of food per year. That’s literally throwing money away.

To reduce food waste use a grocery list, buy less, keep track of when items expire, and also get creative about using all of the food before it goes to waste.

Buying items for convenience.

Dining out daily.

Nearly 70 percent of Americans say they waste money on eating out.

You can dine out, but be aware of how often you dine out and how much you spend. If you buy dinner 5 times a week and pay $15 each time then you will spend $3,900 over the course of a year.

Not maintaining your health.

Medical costs are expensive and according to a study by Harvard University, they are also the number 1 cause of bankruptcy in the United States.

avoid high medical costs, focus on prevention by maintaining a healthy lifestyle and going to the doctor and dentist for regular check ups.

Cable bill

Wasting money on cable services that you don’t even use?

With all of the streaming service options, it makes a lot of sense to cancel your cable. You still have to determine internet, but if you cut the cable then you can reduce your monthly costs and only pay for the services that you use. PC Mag has a great story about what your tv options are if you cut the cord.

Idle electricity

Forgetting that the small stuff matters.

Interest fees because of bad credit.

The cost of major purchases that require financing varies dramatically based on your credit score. For example, if you have good credit, then you may qualify for 0% or low interest loan

Impulse shopping.

To stay on track and avoid wasting money, wait 3 days before making an unplanned purchase to take the emotion and fear of loss out of the purchase.

Not renegotiating services.

You have more power than you think because it costs more to acquire a new customer than it is to retain a new customer. Stay abreast of the deals offered to new customers and ask for your existing cable, internet, cell phone company, etc. to match those discounts.

Paying for things that you can do yourself.

This one used to be hard for me because it is easier to outsource than it is to do things myself. However, I had to determine what made sense to outsource and what to do myself.

Buying new and not used.

I also buy my own clothes used because I can usually get better stuff for less money. The key is to avoid buying more because of the lower cost.

Not using online coupons.

The post 20 Things You Are Wasting Money On appeared first on Everyday Power Blog.

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