5 years ago, I was in Rehab.
10 years ago, I was watching my Potential and Opportunities dissolve and evaporate in an ocean of cheap gin and expensive whiskey.
But 5 years ago, I was in Rehab.
One of the exercises they had us perform was to imagine ourselves happy, 5 years in the future.
Many of us in that room had forgotten how to imagine nice things happening to them. A few snorted (well, I snorted), finding the notion that we’d even still be around in 5 years grimly humorous.
For about half of us, it was the last stop on the way down.
But I indulged the therapist. I was there, after all, because I did not want to die. So, I imagined myself, 5 years hence.
Happy.
It came to me all at once; an artistic remix on Norman Rockwell’s Freedom From Want, reframed with myself placing food at the table.
Sunday Dinner At My Place, I answered, when it came my turn to share my fantasy. I was asked what food I imagined eating.
It’s not the meal itself, I said, it’s the implications framed around it. Sunday Dinner At My Place means that I have a Place. It means that I have Family that will actually speak to me and friends who actually want to see me. It means money enough not just to feed myself but others too. It means having the time to spare to take the time preparing the meal.
A lot of nodding heads all around me. A struck chord. Many people with no Place, in that place. Nowhere that would lament their leaving.
5 years hence, as I lay down to sleep in my Home, with my Wife and my Son, surrounded by my Art and my Flowers, I reflect.
It was a long road. It was hard. We lost people. So many people. There were long days and long nights and hospital stays. Angry arguments with ghosts. I changed, in ways I never hoped for, or expected. Good ways, finally, for once. Slowly, against the backdrop of a world in chaos, I found my mind.
Sometimes, My Wife wondered aloud, what she did to deserve me. After some stumbling with my feelings, I eventually settled on an answer.
I’m a Rescue.
She gave me a Home.
And, so, I gave her a Family.
It seemed fair
This Sunday, my folks, which whom I have not had a shouting match in years, will come over for dinner. We will cook and eat together. My Friend became My Wife, and she took a piece of me and with it she made Our Son. There will be many hugs, and no violence. Good Things Happened.
I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you don’t know what the future holds.
don’t give up yet, ok?
It could get good, even.
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The funny thing about the PJO cabin system is that everyone's always all 'oh the twelve' this and 'the twelve' that but that's absolutely not even remotely accurate. To start, right off the bat it's thirteen, not twelve, because they don't count Hades. But not really because before Percy, there were no big three kids, so we're down to ten active cabins already but it's actually eight because Artemis and Hera don't make demigods.
And of those eight, Mr. D is stuck at camp (thus not really making new demigods all that often) and his only two kids don't even sleep in a cabin, they sleep in the Big House with him.
So, pre-Percy, there are seven active cabins at Camp Half-Blood:
Glee club, the Jocks, the Nerds, the Geeks, the Farmers, the 'Sketchy Kids' and the Popular Kids.
Or, in other words, the Apollo, Ares, Athena, Hephaestus, Demeter, Hermes (and the unclaimed kids) and Aphrodite cabins.
What's cool is that you can already see the cabin dynamics in the show. For example, the Athena cabin allies with the Hermes cabin for the numbers. The Hermes kids plus all the unclaimed kids? It's the biggest cabin in the camp by far. It's a battle strategy. Luke and Annabeth's close relationship is just the cherry on top for Annabeth. It'll be really cool to see how the show develops the differences in the cabins during the series.
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i recognize that simon and edwin meeting and parting in hell is narratively very good and provides closure for all. but imagine if simon had agreed to try and escape with edwin. and charles doesn't have time to really question it, because anybody who likes edwin is aces in his book and it's hell, they need to leave. (edwin, out of courtesy to their third companion, puts his plan to confess on hold until they've escaped.)
suddenly the edwin harem of "supernatural boys who all hate each other but are attracted to that negative rizz" gains another member, and at some point edwin is going to have to mention that simon was the boy who sacrificed him to hell.
the chaos. crystal's bitchy commentary. charles going from friendly smiling to clutching his cricket bat. niko's whispering "200k slow burn schoolboy rivals to lovers" with heart eyes. it'd be chef's kiss good. edwin fleeing to his books and praying that nobody, but especially not the cat king, finds him because there has been SO MUCH emotion already. hysterical.
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i don't think bakugou is that kind of useless dad that can't do anything without you helping him, but i do like the idea of him being a slightly frazzled new-ish dad 🥺
katsuki decides to take the baby with him on his run to the grocery store because you deserve a break, however small, and everything is fine, honestly, like. he can handle it.
but he is standing in line to checkout and there is drool on his shirt and his hair is a little messed up and sticky from being tugged on and he's got his items in one hand and baby on his hip.
your little girl has entered into that phase where she just likes hearing herself make noise, so she's clapping her hands together and just babbling, sometimes too loud, so loud that it attracts attention.
and katsuki is sort of bouncing her a little bit to keep her from getting squirmy, mumbling, "yeah, dah dah dah dah, i know," right to her ears only, giving curt nods to any of the older ladies in the store that coo over the sight of them.
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As if I wasn't already exhausted enough this morning...
It's been brought to my attention that people are taking my fanfics, editing them, and sharing them around. I don't have the words to describe how not okay this is. If you don't like something about my fanfic, then I'm sorry to hear that, but there are a lot of other fics out there you can read instead.
I put time and effort and care into my writing, as does every writer. To take my work without permission and change it feels like someone just punched me in the gut. Frankly it makes me not want to share my work at all and to take down all the writing I do have up, because why should I share anything with people if all they're going to do is decide it's not good enough and they're going to do what they want with it and make it "better"?
And before anyone comes at me, this is not what a transformative work does. This is not the same as fanfiction. I'm fucking exhausted from working two eleven hour shifts over the weekend so my brain is not working so someone smarter and more articulate than I am can explain why. I'm tired.
This genuinely makes me want to take down all my works and not share anything new. It's very simple, kiddos: Don't like it? Don't read it. You will miss out on some fanfics that way, just like you'll miss out on some films, or books, or TV shows. I've missed out on really good fic, novels, films, etc, for the same reason. We all do. It's a part of life. Stuff will sometimes have things in it that you don't like. Skim those parts, fast-forward those scenes, grin and bear it, or just go and read/watch something else.
Normally I would make this post unrebloggable but I worry other writers in this fandom might experience the same thing and not realize it. So people are welcome to reblog this. Anyone who's an ass on it will be blocked, no second chances.
Just. Don't do this guys. Holy shit don't do this. What the actual fuck.
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