#well we weren't HOMELESS just without a home

[ibetittering]

Every time I stay in an Airbnb I'm reminded of when me and my family were homeless for like six months

(Part 17)

[ordinaryschmuck]

Full Family AU Part 36

"...Excuse me?" Camila's annoyance was quick to return after such an insane request.

"I mean, your couch looks comfy," Eda said. "A bit lumpy, but preferable to that shack in the woods."

"Are you...homeless?" Manny asked next.

"Oh, heck no! I've got a home, just not in, er, your neighborhood. Where me and King came from is under a lot of stress at the moment so we're laying low, hiding out in your realm for the time being."

"Why would you need to lay low?"

"Well..." Eda then dug into her hair and pulled out a wanted poster of herself with her hand aflame. "I'm sort of...wanted. From the law."

"...Oh. Okay." Camila pointed to the door. "Get out."

"Here me out--"

"I am not letting some...some witch criminal live under my roof!"

"I didn't break any major laws!" Eda defended, putting the wanted poster back in her hair. "Just the dumb ones. I didn't join a coven when I graduated magic school, I own a stand without a permit, I have a hocus without a pocus--"

"I don't care how illegal your activities are!" Camila exclaimed. "They're still illegal and I don't want that anywhere near my kids!"

"Speaking of kids, hot dang those daughter of yours are heavy sleepers," Eda noted, looking at the miraculously sleeping Luz and Vee. Even King was surprisingly still asleep. "You've been raising your voice this whole time and they haven't so much as peeped an eye open."

"I know, right--Don't change the subject!" Camila snapped. "You're a criminal!"

"I prefer outlaw."

"That's not better!"

"It at least sounds cooler."

"YOU--!"

"Camila." Manny puts his hands on Camila's shoulders, trying to relax her with a little massage. "Can I speak with you for a second."

Camila growled at Eda once more before relenting to Manny, letting him walk her a few steps away from the wild witch. "You better not try and talk me into hearing her out," Camila whispered.

"I know it might be insane," Manny whispered back, "but it's at least worth considering."

"No, it isn't."

"As far as we know, she comes from the same world Vee does. She might have answers to so many questions that Vee's unable to give. It wouldn't hurt to make nice with someone like that."

"She's a criminal."

"Because she broke laws that don't seem too bad."

"Still a criminal."

"At least she's not dangerous."

"Dangerous or not, she's still a criminal."

"Excuse me," Eda said, interrupting Camila and Manny's little conversation. "Couldn't help but overhear, mainly because you're both some pretty loud whisperers, but is it at least worth considering that I came clean about being wanted? Because the way I see it, I had two options: I could either lie about who I am and cause ya to overreact when the truth somehow came out--'Cause it always does--or I could just put all the cards out on the table and explain myself."

"Well, you're not doing a good job at explaining yourself," Camila said with a scowl.

"Actually, I'd say I'm doing a perfect job. I already told you that the laws I broke weren't anything major. They were just little things that never actually hurt anybody. Well, aside from the coven guards, but trust me when I say that those chumps had it coming."

"So you assaulted your world's version of the authorities."

"Authorities that will either put you in a box that you don't want to be in or petrify you for refusing even that."

"Petrify?" Manny curiously asked.

"Turn you to stone," Eda briefly explained. "It's permanent and ain't exactly pretty."

"That's...awful," Manny voiced sympathetically, to which Eda shrugged.

"It's nothing that'll happen to me, I'll tell you that much. Not as long as I can avoid being caught. Hence me staying in the human realm for a bit and me asking if it's cool if I crash on the couch." Eda focussed on Camila again, who seemed to lessen her frustration a bit, but not enough to relent completely. "What say you, Tiny?"

"Call me that again, and you'll lose more than your head," Camila sternly replied.

"Got it. Sorry."

"And...I'd feel bad under any other circumstance, but something about having a known criminal, even if the laws she broke aren't too awful, is just...too much. For me."

"Oh, for--It's not forever," Eda said, her annoyance showing. "Just for the night. Maybe two. Honestly, I'm only here because my current security system for my house is out sick and needs to 'recooperate.' Don't bother asking me what that means, because I do not want to know. I've learned not to ask him things."

Camila and Manny shared a curious look with each other, not even sure how to tackle that.

"Okay, how about just for tonight, then?" Eda suggested. "Me and my boy just need one break from sleeping in that shack. Can you at least give us that? We'll be out of your hair by morning and you'll never have to see us again. I mean, would you really let that precious little guy out in the cold for that much longer...?"

Eda gestured over to King, still sleeping soundly. Camila narrowed her eyes at him, finally noticing something she was amazed not to have noticed earlier.

"Wait...That's the dog you brought in," she stated.

"Ah, right, you still want payment." Eda started digging in her hair again. "Hang on, let me just--"

"No--I mean, yes. I do want my money. But I want to know is how did you make him look...not like that in the vet?"

"Oh, that?" Eda then blew a raspberry as she waved her hand. "That's nothing more than a simple illusion spell. Any witch with a starter's knowledge of illusion magic could do the same thing."

"You can make fake things seem super real?"

"Up to a point. Can't really make anything tangible. Only real enough where you think you can touch it."

Camila then glanced over to Vee, snoring softly without a worry in the world. Camila looked back at Eda, an idea forming as her worries appeared to have an exit.

"...Do you think you know how to make something like that...permanent?"

[handweavers]

my uncle was a complicated man who often made it difficult to be around him - he was frequently abrasive, struggled to give affection freely, and his love and concern usually expressed itself through a harsh and abrupt, stilted demeanor. he could be very angry a lot of the time, a deep seated rage and a callousness at times that stung and wounded. but he had a difficult upbringing, and it was easy to understand why he was the way he was. he was born during the japanese occupation of malaya during ww2 when my family was interned, and many members of our family and the sikh community were targeted for beheading and lynching by the japanese imperial army. my family was very poor back then, and repeated traumas and losses and abuse had hardened him. he struggled with alcohol addiction all his life, like most in my family, and he could be very cruel when he would drink.

but i'll never forget how he made an effort to take care of me and make sure i knew he loved me. the first time i returned home to malaysia as an adult, on my own, after being kept away for many years by my father, i had to reconnect with my family on my own, with my home country on my own, without his help or guidance. and my uncle showed me a degree of kindness that no one expected, and embraced me without hesitation when i came out as trans, and enforced that among the family. no one could go against him, he was the patriarch of the entire extended family, and his word was law. his approval of me meant even those who would have shunned me had to tolerate me or risk being shunned themselves - he held that much power. and when i was going to fly back to canada he called me at the airport just to tell me he loved me and that this is my home and my family and no one can take that away from me and that i belong here and he will miss me. he rarely spoke like that to anyone, ever, even his own children. it was deeply uncomfortable and difficult for him but he did it anyway because he felt like it was important, that i was important. and he took care of me in many ways over the years, and if it weren't for him i likely would have been/would be homeless and would never have been able to go to university at all. and now without him i definitely can't afford any of that and i'm not sure what to do with myself. he made sure repeatedly and consistently to communicate in whatever way he could to tell me that he cared, in his own ways, and to step in where my father could/would not.

the last time i saw him was in august of this year when we had lunch together, and he told me i did well and he was proud of me to be the one to finally bring my dad home, knowing how awful my dad is. he and i were the closest living relatives to my dad and the people who knew him best, and i could go to him for help when my dad was making things very hard for me and he understood. he was the only other person still alive who could wrangle my dad, who could 'deal' with him, set him in his place. my other uncle could do the same, and he also took care of me and made sure to check on me and remind me that i am a part of this family and that i belong with them, but he passed away when i was 19. now it's just me left to deal with my dad without either of my uncles' help, and no one else alive who knows what it's like to be tied to him directly in the way that we are. and i didn't get to say goodbye, and i didn't get to attend the funeral nor help scatter his ashes to the sea. when i go home every part of him will be gone gone gone and never coming back and there's nothing i can do.

[agentjazzy]

oh wow, it looks like Disney's Primos is coming out - I thought they shelved it!

I showed my parents the trailer, and they immediately said that the main character looks just like I did when I was little lmao, because it's true

Because, like, 1)I'm Chicane, and we have the exact same coloring, 2)I had short hair and braces from ages 9-11, 3)I had many many pairs of jean shorts, 4)glasses, lol, and 5)my mom shaved my unibrow every month when I was little

And then, of course, the premise - when I was 8 I had to live with my cousins for Summer (+ one month of school) before we moved in with my grandparents bc *~*technically we were homeless for several years*~*

How many cousins? Well, first with only 3, but then there were problems, so then we moved in with a different tía, who, at the time, had 7 kids.

(if anyone's curious, I have 20 cousins total, with 1 more on the way)

Being in single 3 bedroom house (with 2 makeship rooms in the garage) with 7 cousins, 4 adults, and my little brother was. Um. An experience.

But anyway, after I showed my parents the trailer, I told them this show was supposed to premiere a year ago but had controversies after the theme song dropped, then I showed them the original theme song to see if anything caught their attention.

And sure enough, absolutely nothing. My mom questioned the nickname Nachos, bc it can sound kinda iffy, but nothing else caught their attention.

(and oh, for context, they both grew up in LA, both growing up translating for their parents)

I showed them some clips of why people hated it, and yeah, they were confused bc they would say "oye primos," not "oigan primos." I guess my grandparents weren't concerned with teaching exact grammar at home, more concerned with making sure that my parents were learning english at school

everyone being mad at "terremoto heights" was um. weird. because we're constantly making earthquake jokes, because we're waiting for The Big One, which we know will inevitably screw us over and possible strand us without water and home if/when it comes. but we still joke about it, you know? my whole class made earthquake jokes, and my parents made earthquake jokes when they were in school and they lived through the LA quakes

it makes me wonder if Animaniacs released their "A Quake" song today, would people have been up in arms as much as they have for Primos?

but I guess changing it is fair, if Disney wants to have an international release. even if making earthquake jokes is part of SoCal culture.

they were really surprised about the nickname controversies, because here in SoCal, those nicknames are like. pretty common. yes, even the one that they ended up changing. it's almost as if words have different connotations in different places..........

ANYWAY the biggest thing is that they agreed that the voice actress was out of line (although they think it's obvious that the "shithole" comment was poking fun at trump and that that was being taken out of context in bad faith) but - and this is an inside joke I'm not gonna elaborate on - makes sense considering her name

(IF YOU'RE A MUTUAL OR A TRUSTED FOLLOWER, if you're curious about the joke, I WILL dm you to explain if you ask)

but yeah. it's obvious that this is Disney's answer to The Loud House and The Casagrandes - that being said, all the vitriol towards this shows seems very unfounded. this show just seems very Chicano, moreso than other things I've seen.

and like, as I've explained here, this show is very, heavily relatable to me specifically. none of my white friends understood the pains of living with a bunch of your wild cousins - but multiple of my Chicana friends did. at different schools districts even.

it's just... a lot of the things people are shouting is "bad representation" is literally just... my life. And, apparently, the creator's life, considering it's based on her childhood.

I think it's nice that she made a show about Chicano culture. It does suck that apparently no one knows or even seem to want to know what Chicano culture is.

I just can't help but to wonder if I ever make something about my life, my lived experience... will people call me bad representation? idk.

anyway, I'll probably check the first few episodes out. I'm not sure I'll watch the whole series, since, lately, Disney's shows have been kinda a miss for me. but maybe I'll be surprised. I'm willing to give it a shot

[limeade-l3sbian]

the term "homeless person" seems to have lost its original meaning in the US to a lot of people. that being "an individual without a home" has somehow been changed into "person will ill intent and nothing to lose".

There are a lot of homeless people near my job and I've had co-workers act with genuine fear towards them for simply existing. For asking for the time. For asking if they can come in and use the bathroom. And yes "a few bad apples" and all that, but fuck, man. Have some fucking decorum.

I spent my middle school years homeless and living in a women's homeless shelter with my mom. Not that I even needed the fucking personal experience, but I've been around the mentally ill, the drug dependent, the ones not trying at all and the ones trying their best. I could hear women crying in other rooms. I hung out with their kids who have come from "something", and kids where this was their umpteenth shelter they were living in.

These women come in, profusely apologizing to me for "bothering" me to ask for the bathroom. I've got no patience for mfs who don't realize we're all, as I've heard put perfectly, one missed paycheck away from being homeless as well. And even if we weren't, that's just a PERSON without a home.

[serahlink]

‼️HELP A HOMELESS ARTIST - URGENT‼️

Reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

Making a new commission post since we're in desperate need of help currently. We were only able to pay half of what we needed yesterday, so now we owe the normal 55$ rent today plus the 30$ we couldn't pay yesterday. We also couldn't get any food yesterday and we have no food here, so I'm hoping to get something for that as well if we can.

My name is Link and I've been homeless for about two years now (since November 2021). Due to my dad falling into a diabetic coma around that time leaving both him and my sibling homeless without their truck, and myself having to move out from my friend's house due to their grandmother falling severely ill at the time, we were all left without a home. We don't have any family help (tried reaching out as soon as it happened and both sides of the family just weren't willing to help with either shelter/food/financially and otherwise) or anyone else to really rely on. My friend drove us all to a motel where I started up commissions and have been trying my best to keep up what we need for food and rent ever since neither of us could get jobs (we all don't have our IDs/documents, a car or the money to go and actually try getting that stuff) and we also can't get benefits from things like food stamps. We would've been able to at least try from low income housing if we had them, but that's the main thing that's stopped us from getting out of this situation or at least getting closer to finding real stability again. This is and has been our only source of income for a while.

Right now, things haven't been looking great. We almost got kicked out last week, and if the man at the office wasn't kind, we wouldn't have had anywhere to go. Most days we go without food since the room is the utmost priority, and we can barely pay that. Business has been very scarce, so I'm hoping by making a new post that I can get some more help somehow.

I'll put my commission examples, prices and business email below if anyone is interested in helping. If you can't, no worries, I completely understand. Reblogs also helps in hopefully bringing us new work opportunities, so it'd really mean a lot. Thank you so so much in advance.

Business Email - lyriumveins__@outlook.com

~Prices~

Sketch (price depending on type of sketch) - base price of 10$

Sketch page - 10$ per sketch

Headshot - 20$ (+10$ if shaded)

Bust - 30$ (+10$ if shaded)

Half body - 45$ (+10$ if shaded)

Full body - 60$ (+10$ if shaded)

Couples Commission (a commission that includes two people) - 90$ (+15$ if shaded)

Group commissions (commission that includes more than two people, price dependant on the details) - 60 base price(one character, unshaded; each extra character is +75% to the original price) (40$+ if shaded)

Paintings (price depending on the details) - 100$+

[the-s1lly-corner]

spot that meets a autistic reader, that is talkative to themselves, but has poor social skills because (lack of good parenting + bullys, but is very smart and loves art and engineering, and dreams to be a scientist one day.. it could began as the reader first feared him over an awkward moment? to opening up about themselves and the reader's obsessive fascination over him. two very talented ppl that only wants to be appreciated, respected and loved...💔

idk is it to much?? bruh I'm trying to be creative😭 I'd be happy with whatever happens!. aNd TaKe yO tiME!! On irl things and beloved spotty <3

Spot w/ an autistic reader!

Rubs my autistic little hands

Feeling a lil drowsy but I wanna chuck this out before I fall asleep for (possibly) the next 7 hours :3

Not proof read we die like Peter Parker <\\3 we are sleepy and tumblr wont let me save drafts for asks <\3

Obligatory "I like this character so I'm hcing him to be ND like me" touch

He gets it

Anyways

I think to help make the whole thing less jarring, or whatever, is that you may have known each other vaguely before the collider incident

You weren't a scientist at alchemax, more like.

Well shoot I just forgot the term but like, you work there, but you dont do hands on experiments, not experienced enough yet

Intern?

Maybe, idk

Obviously you don't work there anymore after the collider blowing up, so... you're looking for a new job

You knew about Jonathan, but you weren't friends

You had also heard rumors about what happened to him but you kinda dismissed it as cruel rumors surrounding his death.. I mean no one could've survived that explosion.. right?

So imagine your surprise when you end up almost getting robbed by spot

Can you blame him? He hasnt found another job since the accident and hes probably living off of pity handouts; likely homeless

Now hand over the wallet!!/j

No but on the semi likely chance that you manage to defuse the situation, given Spot sucks as a criminal, you just bluntly ask if the whole

Rumor thing is true

I mean obviously it is but confirmation is important

After a few more chance encounters, you guys both finally decide to properly sit down and talk

Its tense and awkward at first since 1. How does one even act around someone like spot? He's vulnerable but also trying to do the whole. Revenge thing... And 2. Hes desperate for human interaction and it SHOWS, it's almost uncomfortable actually

But you both trudge past it and make it work

One meet up turns into two then three; then you discover how much hes struggling and

Now you're roomates

Oh my god they were roommates/ref

Anyways, that's the set up!! It kinda felt wrong to just. Jump into it without some explanation on how yall end up in the same area consistently

Doesnt mind that you mumble to yourself, he probably does the same thing. From muttering things to keep his train of thought to having a personal monologue, I wholeheartedly believe he does the same thing

Hs understands how it feels to be. Not treated very good, he likely wasnt the most respected in alchemax so it's not uncommon for the two of you to have vent sessions where you both let it all out

You ask him about his journey to becoming a scientist and not so subtly ask for advice on how to get into the field; and touching onto the whole human interaction thing, hes more than willing to talk your ear off about his entire career history

On the chance you dont want to do physics stuff, and you wanna do another branch of science he's all ears on listening to you ramble, may even lend a hand in getting you to where you need to be career wise

Yall do at home experiments as bonding stuff

Look if spot can make a mini collider in some building then I can only imagine the type of shit yall get up to at home

Oh? You're still curious about.. him? Of all things, him?

He never thought anyone would look at him with interest; usually its disgust or fear, or both

Hes hesitant at first because what if you discover something that'll totally change your view of him?

Takes (some, a little) coaxing

Bro caves fast, he misses physical touch

"So like, these holes-" you proceed to just. Dip your entire fist into a hole and watch said fist pop out from another hole

The demons are telling me to make reader like

Make it a game to try to throw stuff through his holes but I feel like that would be really mean, no one likes stuff getting thrown at them

Please dont throw stuff through his holes :(

Random but like

Idk if this happens with yall but

If someone stims do yall. Like stim back

Like I have vocal stims and mess with my hands; and sometimes my friend will be prompted to stim if I stim??

Idk but yall do that

OHOH before I post this if you're both comfy with physical touch please please please hold him, it's been so so long since someone has hugged him and he really really needs it :(

[witchqueenvisenya]

so just because miss sansa has an emotional connection to winterfell (no matter that she kept whining about winterfell and only recognized its significance after she literally had nowhere left that could be conceived of as safe) that somehow justifies her and the starks getting winterfell back by dragging people into their battles which mister robb has been doing ever since ned got one upped by cersei and that is all well and good, but the tyrells, ellaria sand and the rest of dorne, yara and her ironborn, who do very much comprise a significant portion of westeros joining daenerys who built her own army (armies) without going around and mouthing off and guilt tripping her recently revived cousin for it and actually ended up doing more good than sansa has done in 8 seasons, in helping her reclaim the iron throne, built by her family, inside the red keep, built by her family, standing in king's landing, once again, built and expanded by her family is unacceptable? just because it's a home she never had the luxury to grow up in, she doesn't deserve to walk in the castle that is her family's legacy? fuck that. in the show, she didn't even need the north's help for it, but she did hope that they would keep their end of the bargain instead of backtracking and whining about tired soldiers because of the war against the wights in which, might i remind you, northern soldiers weren't even on the frontlines. compare that with sansa who dragged the free folk into her battles while hiding crucial information that could have saved lives. it's not even a bargain, who am i kidding? but sansa stans don't really like even show canon when it's not pandering to her. you people love to say "dany stans need to stop comparing this selfless act for which she questions herself against sansa's raging ignorance that goes unquestioned" "dany stans need to stop stepping on my xenophobic queen's perfect white toes" "dany stans need to accept that homeless orphan girl who selfishly did the bad deed of killing slavers needs to fuck off somewhere and leave westeros for pure widdle saun-sa" but.... we will point out canon because you underinformed idiots love opening your mouth and keep trying to force people to like sansa and agree with her actions. maybe you should re-examine your talking points. or not. it is always interesting to see the holes in your arguments. as well as the selective empathy common to all of you.

[xxgremlinleexx]

More info on our situation.

This will be posted to the GoFundMe as well.

I feel that it is incredibly important to express just how last resort this is. It has come to my understanding that if people are to come across this, they are likely to believe I haven't exhausted all of my options.

This, unfortunately, isn't the case.

Mississippi has never been safe for us as black, queer people. And having neighbors turned against us for something orchestrated by pur landlord has made it even less so for us to continue being here.

There is absolutely nothing left for us here.

Lemme explain. As of now, both my partner and I are employed. However, our pay and hours are nowhere near enough to cover the cost of rent without outside assistance from friends and family who are all also struggling at this time. This includes our other partner who has their own shit to deal with. I work at Dominos and am paid a flat $9.00/hr as a CSR. I'm only granted NINE (9) hours a week. Yes. You read that correctly. Only 9 hours a week. 18 every two. 36 a month. Which is why I started doing commissions. To make ends meet.

Because Void (our cat) would genuinely have nowhere to go if we didn't make things work somehow. We've had him since he was a kitten, and he would be even more devastated than us.

Friends can't take him. Not anyone nearby. And with the lack of proper shelters, surrendering him would likely spell death.

Just know, while things weren't perfect, they were not always like this. We started falling behind after a technological error on the Apartment's end (More on that later) where two months' worth of rent was never posted. And once we made the error known, it came with fees stacked from both months and then some. In the middle of March. After I'd been dropped from my internship at a super Christian-run food bank. Where I was the only openly queer one there. 🙃

And it's truly only been downhill from there.

My nesting partner is paid slightly more than me at 9.75/hr, but they haven't been given a full 40 hour week since September of last year. This is after asking for all that can be given at their job despite dealing with chronic pain and being immunocompromised. They've been working without any sort of proper accommodation aside from being offered brief breaks in the store's beer cooler.

We've taken out payday loans out of sheer desperation not to lose our home, two of which almost crippled us.

We do not have a car. Mississippi's public transportation system is absolutely abysmal. I used the bus to go to work during my internship. I was left stranded twice and was s3xually harrassed during my rides on several occasions. The system is horrendously underfunded, so the drivers just don't care.

We have tried various programs including section 8. The wait lists are endless.

The property manager has explicitly expressed that they do not accept vouchers from any of the most prevelant housing assistance programs in our area. Which was one of the reasons why we almost weren't allowed to move here (Making a video on that soon.) during a time where we were, in fact, homeless and running out of time at the hotel we were staying at. The only assistance we have is for electric. And that's only because that bill is not processed directly through the complex itself.

I've been permanently flagged by the unemployed office. Why? Because one of my employers (the most transphobic experience I've ever had. More on that later.) claimed that nobody under my legal name, SS, or anything had ever worked there before. Every other experience listed was verified, but due to that one instance, even when I provided my old work badge and my W2, I was (and still am) no longer able to apply for unemployment without being stuck in a neverending wait list for an investigation that will never come. It will remain stuck in pending for months and then the case number will magically close without notice.

We have Food Stamps, but due to the sudden dip in income and hours, MDHS has pretty much flagged that I'm able-bodied but just choosing not to work. Which has resulted in the amount we're given monthly to harshly decrease.

What I'm trying to say is that the truly needy and unfortunate are treated like rats and scammers. Pests. These programs put in place to help us aren't funded enough to make the people tasked with running them truly care. So they turn us away.

This has been a problem in Mississippi for years. The state government is given money to help and distribute as needed, but those funds are withheld. Millions of dollars every year are kept away from the families who need it most, and nobody here can answer why.

And if you're queer or a person of color? Good luck.

I explain all of this to say that we genuinely need help wherever we can get it.

We need to get out of Mississippi.

Please help in any way you can. Spread this and my GoFundMe wherever you can. It is us the link above. Share it wherever, whether you can donate or not.

My commissions are open. All three slots are available. I will gladly work for the money.

Thank you for your reading.

[drawingsfromthefrogwar]

Hihihihi!

I love your art so so much and i was wondering if we could have headcanons on how well your characters can cook food

like

let. them. cook!! 🔥 🔥 🔥

-Eclipse

yeah yeah yeah of course! I actually have a lot of thoughts about this!!

Adam and Cassie both grew up in a house with cooking staff. Adam as an adult managed to "but I'm just a little birthday boy:(" his way into making evelyn do all the cooking, and Cassie as an adult was institutionalized so neither of them ever learned how to cook

Growing up Evelyn cooked a lot for her and her brother when he parents weren't home. As an adult, I think she's fairly good at it. I don't know if she enjoys cooking? but it does give her the chance to avoid bad sensory foods and I think that's worth it for her

Mickey and Jaylynn both know how to cook. Evelyn taught them both from the time they were little because she didn't want them to grow up thinking that cooking was a skill for girls.

Mickey likes cooking for girls on dates because he thinks its impressive, he's probably a good cook.

Jaylynn is technically a good cook? but her food is frequently inedible because she's really sensory seeking with food. Girl who puts half a bottle of black pepper in her soup, carries around pure capsaicin, eats lemons as a snack, and dips her fruit in critic acid.

Theo was contained before his mom could teach him to cook like his brothers but that's probably for the best because he hates cooking. the foods and smells are so very overwhelming for him. Theo and bland tasteless food are best friends.

Alto grew up homeless and without consistent access to food so he is missed on developing a lot of cooking skills, but Alto is very good at foraging and preparing foraged foods. Boy who used to come home from school an hour late and covered in dirt with mushrooms filling his arms

[totentnz]

For the sleepy dialogue prompt: 7!! :3c

Sleepy Dialogue

7. "Did you dream about me?" and "Just put your head on my shoulder." First is (implied) SilverV and the other is some backstory ft. Vincent!

"Did you dream about me?"

v clung onto sleep this morning, comfortably lying on her stomach with one cheek pressed to her pillow. she remained in this position in an attempt to drift off again. a futile attempt as it did not go unnoticed with her roommate - brainmate. "did ya dream about me?" his voice reverberated in her skull, low and rough at the edges as if his own dreams had chipped away at it. v gripped her pillow a little tighter, she really needed to wash these sheets. there was also weight on the mattress beside her; nibbles most likely. "wouldnt blame ya for wantin to go back to sleep." she heard the cockiness in his voice but it didnt frustrate her. he wasn't mocking her; it was flirtatious banter. "like that hm? so smitten with ya, spendin all my waking hours with ya isnt enough?" she lifted her weight up with both her arms, just to collapse back onto the bed, face first into the pillow. the weight also shifted but v did not think to look; this felt nice. "didn't tune in this time?" she answered, her voice slightly muffled by the pillow. "nah. i got some of your memories. bummer, your wet dreams are always so entertaining." johnny replied and there was movement again, it clearly wasn't nibbles since the size didn't fit but v wasn't connecting the dots. "there is plenty of sex in there, maybe one day you will get lucky." she shrugged and raised one hand to her head to scratch her scalp. "yeah, turns out you used to have fun sometimes." there was a certain tinge to his voice that v couldn't quite place but seemed familiar nonetheless. her brow knit together in confusion as the sudden change in tone threw her off. movement again, this time the weight was lifted from the bed. she open her eyes to scan the room for his figure. after a few moments the sound of nibbles scratching on her apartment door, asking to be let in almost startled her. disappointment or maybe regret settled into her chest now.

"Just put your head on my shoulder."

it had only been about a week since they escaped; from their childhood home, their parents and their torment. the final confrontation between their father and v had cost her an eye and him a wounded ego. the twins knew however that their tormentors would not just let them leave and so they had to stay on the move; be a pair of ghosts until they turned eighteen and would be truly free. their new way of living had already taken it's toll, they had nowhere to stay; all the homeless shelters were stock full and even if they weren't they couldn't risk having the badges called on them. "why cant we just stay with the doc? he helped us and he seems nice." vincent asked as he wrapped his arms around his body in an attempt to keep what warmth he had. v only replied with a grumble, she didn't like the thought; they were already in debt to him after he tended to her wounds. "he said he'd help us." there was hopefulness in his voice or maybe naivety; he truly believed his words. when his sister didn't reply he looked upward, scanning the lit windows and wondering what the people in their flats were doing. v had set down a piece of cardboard for them to rest on and finally replied. "dont trust him." she said. "who just helps someone without expecting anything in return?" her pessimism didn't surprise him but the answer was clear to vincent: a good person. his gaze was still directed upward and v indulged as well. "i wanna go home." he mumbled more to himself but it didn't escape her. the statement shot a bolt of unidentifiable emotions through her body. she cant go back. not to that place. not to those people. she had finally broken free of her prison and she would rather freeze to death on the streets than die a coward in the house she grew up in. vincent could felt her reaction; their bond had strengthened over the years of having only each other. v didn't believe in the esoteric side of twin bond but he could feel it every day: her joy lifting his own spirits, her despair deepening his own, her anger seeping into him. "we don't have a home." she finally spoke, bitterness radiating from every syllable; he could almost taste the bile. he finally looked at her again and his eyes were drawn to the dirty bandage wrapped around her head, concealing the wound where her left eye used to be. v noticed his gaze and turned away from him. he leaned against the wall and slid down to sit on the cardboard, one hand grabbing hers to pull her down with him. she followed to sit next to him, huddling together. "we can find one. make one." v slung her arm around him, cradling his head in her palm and he allowed her to pull it down to rest on her shoulder. "tomorrow." she nuzzled the top of his head with her face. "get some rest, i'll keep watch."

[redqueenphoenix]

I am A Good Girl...

(DC/Marvel Crossover Fic)

So, I am currently working on a multiverse crossover cuz why not... and here we go with the a small preview of the insanity. I do not own any of the characters other than my OC Ruby Heart.

Inspiration - I am a Good Girl from the movie Burlesque

All characters in this fan fiction are over the age of 21 years old.

The Comedian X Female OC

Word Count:2433

Ruby couldn’t believe that she got fired from the diner a few days ago. They should have sided with her. They probably would have if she didn’t throw the man that grabbed her ass through a window. It was down right revolting to have the boss of the diner get on her case for damages and then misconduct at work, like she wasn’t the victim.

Shaking her head she continued down the street to the apartment that she managed to secure for herself after she got thrown into this hell hole of a reality. Whoever did this was going to pay, it was not a place that she would like to permanently call home. Especially since she was ripped away from everyone she knew. 

She passed a building with pulsing music, neon lights and people standing outside to get in, most of them seemed to be of the male variety. Rolling her eyes, she clutched her purse a bit tighter to her side as she picked up speed with her head down. She was just about to pass the building when she bumped right into a woman with purple hair and heels. 

“Sorry.” Ruby said quickly as she looked up.

“It’s ok.” The woman spoke, her emerald green eyes were lined in dark black liner and her lips glittered in the neon lights. “You alright?” She asked as she looked behind her, “one of the patrons didn’t mess with you did they?”

Ruby shook her head, “no, I was just on my way home. Sorry for running into you. It’s been a long day.”

She brushed a lock of her purple hair back as she smiled, “I’ve had those. What’s got you down hun?”

Sighing heavily she ran her hand through her hair, “I got fired from the job I was at because the boss thought it was too much to throw a guy through a window over touching me without my permission. So here I am, rent’s due in a week and I can’t find a job.”

The woman shook her head, “that’s rough girl. I can hook you up with a job. Can you dance?” 

Ruby thought for a moment, “yeah.”

The woman extended her hand, “the name’s Jade come on in and let’s get you set up. Can’t have you homeless now, can we?”

“I’m Ruby, Ruby Heart.” She smiled as she shook Jade’s hand.

“Wow, that's your real name or did you already pick one out?” Jade laughed as she led her towards the back door of the building.

“Was born with it.” She laughed with her as they headed inside.

~*~

Ruby found herself grabbing her bag from the house and heading out for work. The last two weeks had flown by, the job paid well and it wasn’t as degrading as she thought it would be. She actually found that she was enjoying the attention. She had become fast friends with Jade and found herself hanging out with her even after work. It was good to finally find a friend in this reality.

The bouncer that worked the back door smiled and opened the door for her. As she walked in she was met with the thumping of the music out on the stage and the chattering of the few girls in back that worked there with her. 

“Ruby!” Jade called out from her vanity, waving her over to the one next to her. “I was worried you weren't going to show up tonight. Slow nights can suck. That was the first one we had since you started.”

Ruby made her way over to the vanity decked out in red confetti and plastic rubies, “I seriously thought about calling in to be honest, but here I am.”

“Don’t let a slow day get you down. We got some of our regulars tonight.” Jade smirked as she adjusted her burlesque costume. “Plus we got a real sleeze in here tonight. He seems to be loaded though. Only if you can stand getting close to him while he’s blowing cigar smoke everywhere and flirting like he’s god’s gift to women.”

Ruby slipped behind the curtain by their vanities changing into her own burlesque costume for the night. “Sounds like a real scumbag.” She adjusted her top that had a heart showing her cleavage. Reaching into her bag she sprayed on some perfume, checked her makeup and then slipped into her heels that were also in her bag. 

She listened to the music and looked out from the side door of the back to see how packed they were. The music filled her ears as the door cracked open, smoke and strobe lights met her as she looked out into the patronage of the evening. It was a fairly decent crowd tonight and most of them seemed to have a drink in their hands. That was a good sign to her. The more they drink, the more money they throw. 

Catching a glimpse of Jade heading to the back of the floor with a well aged bottle of gin peaked her curiosity. She came to a stop at the table that Ruby assumed was the sleeze that they were discussing earlier. Edging out the door further she tried to get a better look, but his back was to her. The only thing she could make out was that he was built, dark black hair groomed to the side while cigar smoke billowed from the table. Stepping back into the door she rolled her eyes, she knew she had to work the floor after her number.

“Hey, Ruby, you're about to go out.” Another one of the girls said to her as she retreated to the back. 

Taking a deep breath she made her way towards the back stairs to the stage. She heard the last song drop off and the in between music play as the curtain dropped to set her up for her performance. Her heels clicked as she stepped out onto the stage, the lavish pleated curtain hiding her from the patrons while she sat down on the chaise they brought out for her performance. Her long red hair curled around her perfect make up job. She had only been there a week or so but she had become the talk of the club and the most sought after show. 

Leaning back on the chaise the curtain began to rise as the spicy jazz music kicked in. 

“Where have I been all my life.” She sang as she rose up on the chaise with the spotlight on her. She continued to sing to the song as she got off the chase lounge and danced. Her moves are precise and provocative as she flirted with the crowd with her dancing. “They all say darling what did you do for those pearls?” She brought her hand up to her face in mock shock, “What?! I am a good girl…” She turned from the crowd and walked up the stair case with a flirtatious bounce in each step. 

As Ruby began to dance up the stairs and then sit down on one to give a slightly suggestive shimmy and leg spread, she caught the attention of the “sleeze” at the back of the bar. His eyes locked on her as she got up and walked over to the pole that was at the top of the stairs. She moved with class as she swung herself around it as she sang. A pearly, white grin broke across his lips as he wedged his cigar in his mouth. Standing up and adjusting the black suit jacket he wore, making his way up to the front near the stage with intrigue. Redheads were his weakness and this one was feisty.

Ruby’s hands gripped the pole as she came around it, playfully kicking her feet under her, “they all say my feet never do touch the ground.” She let go of the pole and brought her hand up again, “what?! I am a good girl!” She brought her hands up to ruffle her hair as she stepped towards the stairs with two other dancers. 

As the music went into a music break from her singing the girls danced provocatively down the stairs until they hit the main stage again. Once on the main stage, Ruby danced towards the curved edge of the stage, dropping to her knees and rolling her head back and forth to fan out her hair as she sat back on her knees with an innocent expression, bringing her finger tip to her lips as she blinked her eyes turning a violet color, “I am a good girl!” She carried the note as the song ended, bringing her eyes down to the crowd and locking eyes with a set of chocolate colored irises she thought she would never see again.

Her heart hammered as he grinned at her with his cigar wedged between his teeth. She quickly came to her senses about how little clothes she had on as the curtain dropped between them. When the curtain hit the floor of the stage she blinked a few times as her mind raced. “That couldn’t have been Eddie.” She whispered quietly as she got to her feet while the slow jazz played around her. Shaking her head as Kurt, one of her favorite bartenders came up to her with her robe and a glass of her favorite drink, whiskey clean.

“Wunderbar, darling! Stunning as usual. A complete show stopper.” His German accent danced in his words as he helped her into her robe. As he helped her into his robe his jacket sleeve came up a bit showing the blue skin of his wrist that wasn’t covered in ivory colored foundation. 

She smiled as she took her drink from Kurt though her mind was elsewhere. She bit her lip thinking about how much that man looked like her Eddie. There was no way he could be, since she was ported here she hadn’t seen anyone that she recognized. 

“Miss Ruby, you seem distracted. Are you well? You are very pale.” His eyes turned to her in an unnatural color of green, the yellow beneath the contacts made them almost emerald. 

She waved her hand as they made their way backstage as she sipped her drink, “sorry Kurt, I was just a bit distracted.” She blinked a few times as her eyes finally shifted back to their blue color.

“You have to be careful with that, Fräulein. People may one day catch on that you are not using contacts in your performance.” Kurt stepped down the steps and held his hand out for her to take it as she stepped down too. 

All of a sudden there was one hell of a ruckus at the side door to the back stage.

“The fuck you mean I ain’t allowed. I can go where the fuck I please.” 

The voice made her stop dead in her tracks, turning towards the door. Her heart hammering, that voice sure was Eddie’s.

The bouncer came stumbling backwards into the backstage as if he was hit by a tank. 

“Get behind me, Fräulein.” Kurt’s arm pushed Ruby behind him as he took a defensive stance. 

The first thing Ruby saw come through the door was a 44 magnum pointed forward then he stepped in. In all his full tilt glory the look of a man on a mission. 

“You ain’t even gonna say hi, doll face?” His eyes locked to her as he stepped forward completely ignoring Kurt that stood between them. 

“Patron’s are not permitted in the back, sir.” Kurt flexed his hands as he looked at the man with a gun.

A low, dark chuckle left his lips as he grinned, “and what’re you gonna do about it, pipsqueak?” 

Ruby had no time to react before Kurt disappeared into thin air. “Kurt, no!” She called out as he reappeared behind the man with the gun. 

“I’m going to throw you out.” Kurt chuckled as he grabbed the back of the man’s jacket.

Eddie nodded his head at Ruby with a devilish smirk as he turned and fired his gun. 

Kurt once again disappeared into thin air causing the bullet to hit the wall with a loud crack. He reappeared hanging from one of the beams clicking his tongue, “Herr, terrible aim.” He dove from the beam towards Eddie’s chest.

Bringing his hands up he snatched Kurt up and threw him into the wall. “You’re not big enough to stop me.” He spun the gun in his fingers as he prepared to shoot again.

As the bullet rushes towards Kurt, he once again disappears, popping back into view a few feet from Ruby as he takes off his jacket which was binding his tail to his back. “I may not be big enough, but I am fast enough.” He took off running, disappearing and reappearing in a rapid succession towards Eddie. He came back into reality with a diving punch at Eddie’s chin, connecting, sending his head to the side. As his feet hit the ground he once again teleported.

Eddie’s hand shot forward grasping at the smoke, grabbing arm before he completely disappeared taking Eddie with him and reappearing in the rafters, his tail dangling Eddie over the edge by the arm.

Eddie twisted, bringing the magnum up towards Kurt and firing a few times at him, narrowly missing him.

“Damn it boys!” Ruby exclaimed as she threw her tumbler of whiskey into the floor causing the glass to shatter. “Stop the shit!” Her eyes shifted to violet as she heard footsteps hammering towards them. “Get down here right now, Kurt!”

“As you wish, Fräulein.” His words dripped with sarcasm as his tail let go of Eddie, sending him to the ground falling feet first to the ground. Disappearing off the rafter and then reappearing next to Ruby.

Eddie landed on his feet with a look like he was going to rip Kurt apart as stormed towards the pair.

“Eddie, stop!” Ruby exclaimed as she got between the two with her arms outstretched, not giving Eddie any wiggle room to get to the smaller statured man behind her. Her features changed into one of shocked relief as he seemed to listen. “It really is you?” Her eyes widened in disbelief.

“In the flesh, doll,” Not lowering his gun from Kurt he wrapped his arm around her waist. Pulling her into him.

“You know this brute, Fräulein?” Kurt asked in complete surprise. 

“Oh boy, do I know him.” Ruby smiled as her arms came around his shoulders for a hug.

To Be Continued....

[elysianmadness]

To all of the Americans shitting on Canadians for the smoke in NYC right now or acting like we aren't suffering as much as you guys are:

We are on fucking fire. Our homes are getting burned down. We are being evacuated from the cities that we live in because we are at risk of being caught in a wildfire.

Look, I get it. The smoke in NYC is absolutely horrible. I'm not denying that or saying that we shouldn't be worrying about that. But compared to the people who have to deal with shitty air quality from smoke as well as getting their homes burned down? Why is the country that's literally on fire right now getting blamed for this?Why is the country that's having to deal with smoke AND fire not the center of attention right now? It's like you guys only started caring when it actually affected you.

You all didn't see us shitting on you when the California fires made our air quality suck. For the most part, we were more worried about the people that were made homeless, injured, or even killed by the fires. You want to know what I, a Canadian, am seeing when I literally Google "Canada wildfires?"

What a fucking sight to see, that a place with horrible air quality is taking priority over the place that's ACTUALLY ON FIRE. You think our air quality doesn't suck? You think that we don't have smoke in the air every year?

Think again.

Like sure, you can laugh about the "Ehpocalypse" memes or whatever. But at the end of the day, we are still suffering from the same air quality problems AS WELL as being evacuated from our homes due to being too close to one of the around 430 wildfires that are currently burning in Canada as I'm typing this. Out of those 430 wildfires, more than half of them are considered out of control. And you want to know what the cherry on top is?

This is just the beginning of Canada's wildfire season.

Isn't that terrifying? You have to worry about the air quality getting even worse there. I and other Canadians have to worry about that and being evacuated from our homes at any second. All. Over. The. Country. This isn't just a Quebec thing, though that's absolutely where the worst of it is. Alberta is on fire, Nova Scotia is on fire, British Columbia is on fire, Ontario is on fire, everywhere is on fire.

I get it. It sucks to have your air quality that bad. It sucks to have to breathe in smoke. Especially if you're pregnant and/or have breathing problems. I really do get it. But please, can we try and focus a little more on the people who are actually dealing with the fires?

Here's a couple ways to help:

Support The Donate A Mask Charity

Donate A Mask is a charity that ships free N95 respiratory masks to any Canadians who request them. Every $1.25 donated is another free mask for a Canadian. Though originally intended for COVID, it also serves the same purpose for the wildfires.

Support Firefighters Without Borders

These fires would be much worse if it weren't for the firefighters, both native and foreign, who are coming to try and contain all of these fires. FWB gives equipment and training to firefighters all over the country.

Other funds (feel free to add more):

Alberta

British Columbia

Nova Scotia + Atlantic Canada

Canadian Wildfire Relief Fund

Halifax

Northwest Territories

Canadian Red Cross

And most importantly,

This is a result of climate change.

This is yet another part of climate change that we're seeing. The planet is dying and we know who's killing it. Fires are NOT usually this bad in Canada in early June. This is not a coincidence, this is not just bad luck, this is proof that every year we waste twiddling our thumbs and panicking over gay people, we're a year closer to being wiped out because the planet can't sustain life anymore.

Wake. Up.

[the-sage-libriomancer]

When I was a kid I read a lot, and I mean a lot. I often read a novel a week, and sometimes I even managed to read multiple novels a week because I was literally devouring half a book per day. And yes, I did read well-known series like Harry Potter and A Series of Unfortunate Events, big names like Diana Wynne Jones and Neal Gaiman, and classics like Anne of Green Gables and The Little Prince. They left fingerprints on me like everything else, and I'll admit I often go back to reread them because they hold up extremely well now that I'm an adult.

But if you asked me to name my favorite books as a kid, the novels that I actually consider my childhood and remember today with fondness and fuzzy nostalgia, it wouldn't be any of the big names. They were the random books I found on my library's shelves: middle-grade fiction of all genres, the modest novels that weren't bestsellers, weren't the sort of books I could mention offhand and everyone would know them, but were solid and well-written and a perfect gateway to the world of words and storytelling.

I don't even remember half of the book's names, to be honest, much less the authors. But I remember the impact. I remember how much they meant to me.

I remember a book called The Death-Defying Pepper Roux, about a boy who slipped on identities like old coats and whose words still warm me like a roaring fire. I remember The Fog Divers, about a world where society lived on huge platforms built on mountains to escape a debilitating fog. I remember the works of Eva Ibottson, Dial-A-Ghost and Which Witch and A Dog and his Boy and The Secret of Platform 13.

I remember What We Found In The Sofa And How It Saved The World, a weird book about three kids who befriend a humanoid alien(?) and help him defeat his father, another alien who wants to conquer humanity. For some reason it captivated me—I still get emotional when I remember a scene where the main character dies, briefly reunites with his deceased parents, and later proves it really happened when he finds a box of old comic books right where his dad said they would be. I also remember that he was brought back to life in the body of a clone and had to live the rest of his life without a belly button. I found that really funny for some reason.

I remember The Map To Everywhere, a series about a girl who finds a mysterious map and sets sail on a sea of magic. The ship's crew were my favorite characters: Ardent the adventurous wizard, Coll the sailor with a cursed rope tattoo, and Fin, a boy who slipped out of people's minds the second they took their eyes off of him. The places they visited didn't stick in my memory, but the feeling of exploring them, eyes running hungrily over the page as a scene formed vividly in my head, certainly has.

I remember a book about a spoiled Rapunzel who had no social skills, who hid her long hair by pretending to be a hunchback, and who rashly gave up her only wish to save a frog that turned out to only be hibernating. I remember a book about a Scabble player who had the strange ability to telepathically read whatever tiles he touched and whose father "died" from an illness that doesn't exist. I remember a book about a girl who discovered she'd been switched at birth, went to live with her father in a home filled with fictional characters pulled straight from books, and fought the Miser (who, it turned out, loved her mother dearly and could not cope with losing both of his closest friends when she died).

I remember a book about a homeless boy living in a van in Ontario, Canada. I recall a lot of details about that book, but the scene that's always fresh in my mind is when he wins a game show, expecting he and his mother's troubles to finally be over, but learns that he can't touch the money until he's 18 and promptly bursts into tears. Just as vividly, I remember the following scene: millions of strangers see the show and donate money, enough for him and his mother to leave the streets.

I remember books I don't know the titles of, but the events of which touched me deeply: one about a girl who copes with her problems by letting the neighbor boy think she's a ghost, one about an unwilling time traveler who jumps into other people's bodies to save his best friend, one where a boy gives in to peer pressure and breaks an autistic kid's teeth with a rock. (Heroes didn't always turn away from their dark impulses, I learned. I haven't had a realization rock me that deeply since.)

And from my even younger days: the Fudge series, the Ramona series, the Horrible Harry series. I used to read the Weenie series, a series of short story collections that brought genuinely "warped and creepy tales." I remember loving Roald Dahl's books - not classics like Willy Wonka or the BFG, but books like The Witches and George's Marvelous Medicine. I adored Wayside School, and to this day I will randomly think about Maura-flavored ice cream and a woman with an extra ear on her head and dead rats that walk out when the conversation gets too sappy.

Some books carve themselves into your bones, rewire your brain, and tear chunks out of your heart. But other books are more like a cat pile—pressing themselves against you like a weighed blanket, purring gently against your chest, and the more you gather, the more happy and content you feel. You can sink into the memories of them without fear, knowing you'll be supported and you won't find anything unwelcome there.

I don't remember any of the authors. I had to leave some of the books off this list because I couldn't remember enough to make a good entry, just vibes and vague impressions. But those are the books I'll look back on when I think about by bookworm days, more than Harry Potter, more than Anne of Green Gables or The Little Prince. I wouldn't be able to tell you more than a couple sentence's worth about each of them, but I KNOW they shaped me, I KNOW they turned me into the storyteller I am today, and even if I can't pinpoint specific novels, sometimes I'll write a sentence or think up a story idea and I can tell exactly which of my old favorite stories led me to it.

So thank you, authors. I won't have the opportunity to tell you in person, and I'll likely never discover your names, but those perfectly modest middle-grade fiction novels sitting quietly on the library shelves meant so much more to me than I can ever express. Maybe they weren't bestsellers, and maybe they didn't have the cultural impact of all those big-name book series, but to a bookish kid who couldn't quite get her feet under her until she read your words, those books made the universe.

[0ce4n-m4n]

what morals (if any) does The Sleeper abide by?

Sleeper is simply a guardian of homeless and people with sleep disorders, but they are extremely protective of said individuals, even to the point of taking someone's life. And they absolutely have taken lives before. See below the Read More

Grandpa Johnson: Ah, I remember 40 years ago, at the ripe age of 32… I had been homeless for a while. To be quite honest, it was a rough time for me.

Grandkids, 18yo and 20yo: What happened? How did you live through that?

Grandpa Johnson: Well… I can certainly tell you, but I'm not sure you'd believe me. Here, let me show you something. *shows crescent-shaped scar on the back of his neck *

Grandpa Johnson: This mark, it bears an importance. It was given to me by… well, I'm not sure what it was. I want to say it was an angel, one that watched over me while I was without a place to stay. I also wasn't the only one with the mark… a handful of others I huddled up with had them too. We weren't sure what the marks were for, only that they had been given to us by our (supposedly) watchful protector. And I call it our protector for a reason: Once, me and another homeless man, Benjamin, were gathering cans and a few other recyclables to haul so we could get some spare change for food. We were caught by two cops, of whom were threatening us with arrest and joking maliciously about our situation. We ran, of course. Didn't take them long to catch up and get us on the ground to cuff us. That's when I saw it, silently floating along the pavement toward us. I knew it wasn't my imagination, because Benjamin and the cops saw it too.

Cop 1: Hey… Tim…? What the hell is THAT!!? It's coming right at us!

The creature, a floating, hunched over humanoid figure underneath a blanket, stopped. A single horn-like protrusion stuck out from underneath the blanket where the creature's head likely was, and there were two eyes glowing from within the darkness under the horn. The creature’s body was shrouded by the blanket, but part of its arms, legs, hands, and feet stuck out the bottom. Its skin was a dark rusty orange and very wrinkly, like it had been soaking in a bathtub for hours. The visible portions of its limbs gave it the appearance of being rather sickly and thin.

(Tim) Cop 2, pointing his gun at the creature: Whoever you are, don't move, or I'll shoot!

The blanketed beast's horn extended at a high speed, shooting right into Tim's right eye and piercing through to the back of his head. His body quivered violently, and the gun slipped right out of his hand, clattering onto the concrete.

Cop 1, so terrified from the attack that he had fallen onto his butt: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!!!! TIM!!!!!!! NO!!!!

He watched as the creature’s horn slowly retracted, making a gross noise upon coming out of Tim’s eye socket. Tim’s lifeless body fell to the ground, then the creature turned to the other cop. Upon realizing the creature was looking at him, he got up as fast as he could and attempted to run. Unfortunately for him, it was already too late. The horn shot through his left leg mid-step, causing him to collapse onto the pavement in agony.

Cop 1, writhing in his blood on the concrete: Oh god….. Oh god no…… Please, no……

The grandchildren stared at grandpa Johnson in horror as he described in detail what happened to the second cop.

Grandpa Johnson: The entire experience scarred me, I just haven’t been the same since. Watching someone die that brutally really changes you, you know?

After an hour or so, the grandkids finally returned home and bid their grandpa a farewell

On the car ride home:

18yo: So… Do you think that really happened to him?

20yo: Who’s to say? The way he described it in full actually scared me! It sounded pretty real, too real. And his scar… it’s perfectly shaped, and he said other people were given the same mark.

18yo: Weird to think that angels might actually exist, huh? Haha.

20yo: Yeah… maybe…

[kidmachinate]

Expectations

At work one week, a co-worker said upon me replying to my boss the following:

"You know one of these days he's gonna sound less forgiving or nice"

"I'm waiting for it"

I didn't take anything from this and it was all in good fun, because my latest line of work tends to ask a lot of us on any given day...but still I press on. No one wants to get fired, right? To be clear, I mostly like my current line of work but here's the issue. The joke (or maybe they do want to see me break one day) is the other side of the coin. What it looks like when you do lose your patience. When you don't is the expectation. In the middle is a potential realization. Am I just being taken for granted?

Unfortunately, I don't always succeed at this expectation. I've unleashed hell in the way my Dad would at times. It feels bad to say this knowing over time, Dad and I grew to understand one another, but fresh in my mind are times that weren't so great. Times where simply voicing logic and reason went out the window. Where proving what the energy efficient temperature for the A/C is with hard evidence, and still being told nope, you're wrong. Maybe I presented "my facts" or "fake news" so therefore I wasn't considered. Really thought real evidence would solve the problem. Proof. Something you also need in a principals office to get out of trouble, but you can't prove things done or said to you without video evidence or a recording. They were never gonna believe you because the other person is much better at explaining themselves. They lie for a living. Principal's office is home. It's a place or panic for you. If after days, weeks, or months you then react, you're still at fault? Well...yes...and I struggle with that. I don't want revenge at the core but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to dish it back when someone want to talk smack on a small level or yell at a higher one.

Trying to develop boundaries later in life is hard. You don't want to disappoint because you don't want the problems. The having to constantly defend your yourself. Just make everyone happy. If we take trauma out of it, what's simply wrong with making people happy other than to a jealous person? Putting a smile on ones face is always worth it. The problem with these expectations are they aren't realistic and they are all over our lives. You need a degree to do an entry level job. You need to be better than your parents because they realize they messed up somewhere, and you need to correct that. You need to suppress your feelings so you can dedicate yourself entirely to emotional leeches. You need to not let money control your life when literally everything revolves around it...and we as a country are closing off freedom ramps for digital currencies as we speak, while continuing to buy it up behind the scenes, to control it. How can any one person possibly meets the expectations of the world, let alone a single individual. It's impossible. So where do you go from here? There's always burn the bridge or let them down gently.

The above are certainly options. What if you care? Is there another way? Things aren't always black and white. We can't assume everyone functions on the same level. I'm blessed by a family that mostly loves me, although we rarely talk, and enough learned to keep life in order to not be homeless. My traumas on a scale, aren't much. I've suffered more trauma through failed friendships/relationships than my childhood. My lesser than traumas doesn't make them invisible. I just don't want to let them bleed into daily life. Comparing life situations sometimes misses the mark, especially if whoever you are speaking with has their own set of traumas, mental issues, or even just life kicking you in the pants. You can kiss and make up and try again and that's all dandy but patterns are what last. If it isn't the norm for someone to just attack you, maybe it is worth a second look. I've been on both sides of the fence here, but repeated attempts at apologies to repeat the same thing? That's not the ideal scenario. A scenario is which at worst you can agree to disagree, a safe space to express, and healthy measures of filling missing voids or releasing anger (probably not at whoever you are talking to) in a way that makes you productive and helps yourself. Pulls you back. Stop the top from spinning, it's okay.

Nobody likes forced plans, playing by the rules to get screwed over, being yelled at, or even just minor inconveniences. It's a huge weight to carry when expected to just push through all of it. That the expectation. You're not gonna bat 100% at this. No one will. The issue is trying to create the environment to thrive as often as possible. Finding someone to vent to if needed. Being in a growth mindset. In a world asking for so much how do you make time for you...and not just to do whatever is distracting you from life. To just sit and think and process. We all, myself included, from time to time, need to slow down. If anything should be the expectation in life, it should be that. Not the hidden ones laid down by people confronted on a daily basis for life obligations. Stability. Consistency. Can't always rush life in the face and see what happens...and I finally thing to say this at the end of the post, where the rest can seem like a dark but truthful tale.

When making these, I attempt to accomplish a few things. Letting it out is the biggest thing. Someone seeing the vulnerabilities in a post and/or inspiration to take action. A reminder that yes you can, even with the odds stacked against you. Speaking of which, whoever you are, the world isn't against you and if you think that, pretend it is against us all. What are you doing to fight against it? Need help? Gather a party who will bring you up.

The only one who should be making expectations that I hope you meet is you. In us wanting life to be as easy as possible and stress free, we can lose the plot of our own stories or place that burden on others. I suck at reaching out but I know I can and have done this to others before. I'm sorry. I've been rediscovering myself for a longer time than I'd like and need to process how to best that best version and less of a mess. Point stands however, set your own goals/expectations.