#without caring about the fact that i'm already living paycheck to paycheck

[aquaticaberration]

I always feel weird bringing up new things to my therapist because

a) I feel like it just comes out of nowhere to her so I worry that she might think I'm making something up, and if I push that it'll become something that bites me in the ass in the future

b) those things have become such a regular part of my life that I just don't think of them as problems even though they sometimes cause such problems that I keep internalized very well

and c) my depression has overshadowed so much of what I deal with that everything else just pales in comparison, which is part of the problem and why I worry a bit about recovery because it might unlock a lot of other issues like how digging reveals fossils except it's trauma and various mental health issues I've pushed down to be able to function

[satanfemme]

contemplating/venting about work under the cut

also. fuck my job for giving us such a low borderline-meaningless raise. I wanna know what kinda raise the CEO got this year. all the higher-ups are like "YAYYY!! you guys are making more now!!! isn't that so exciting ^_^!! see! we care about our employees!!" meanwhile it's still nowhere near enough to live on, all of my coworkers and I are poor as fuck, and the job is inherently emotionally/physically destructive. it's a sacrifice we all knowingly signed up for, but NOT for the "reward" of poverty. imho.

I have coworkers living with both a partner AND roommates just to afford one tiny apartment. one of my coworkers moved down the street from work to save on gas money (among other reasons). lots of us have side hustles, needless to say. whenever I mention having a whole studio apartment for myself, the first thing I'm always asked is "HOW?!?!?! how do u afford that?!?!?!" and of course the answer is "I don't, lol. nearly all of my paycheck goes towards it and then I take on debt to afford most other things". but I mean, look at that exchange, isn't that insane? an adult mentions to a co-worker that they're renting one (1) shitty room for themself and a dog to spend most of their time in, and the co-worker's immediate reaction is shock cause that's a fucking Luxury lifestyle? might as well say I own a yacht. but the reaction is literally rational and correct!!!!! it's so depressing. it's so so depressing that this is just reality. our CEO was making the equivalent of $80/hr last year. all the higher ups think we should be over the moon for $16/hour this coming year. what kind of raise did the CEO give themself? what will $16/hr cover a year from now really; in autumn 2023? cause in autumn 2022 it's already not covering much.

the deafening silence during our budget meeting, when all us wage employees were asked if we had any questions about the raise. we were previously told (tho, in no on-paper legally-binding way) it'd be to $17/hour. $17 was the Bare Minimum living wage for this area back in 2019. it's now 2022, and we were denied that wage. why? that's my question. but I didn't ask it either, obviously.

I know I'm not the only one feeling stuck and scared. every convo with my co-workers lately, no matter what topic it started with, has somehow turned itself into mutual grief of "I wish I weren't struggling to survive. I really like this job. there's no better animal welfare jobs in the area. this was my escape from a shitty animal welfare job. there's no guarantee that any other job, in any field, would let me be gay/trans/disabled/mentally ill/myself/etc the way I can here. many jobs would turn me away immediately. I feel overworked. I don't know how to afford things." ...and then I bring up the "CEO makes $80/hr" fact and lol. the unspoken tension that plain statement adds to the conversation.

I'd call myself a lil firestarter for it, but the info is public and easy to find. I'm surprised I'm the only one who did the math but I'm glad more people are becoming aware of it. the wage employees are the ones DOING the actual work here, u know? the paperwork, and blog posts, and emailing bestie PETA (ugh), and handshaking the governor (who's actively attempting to pass transphobic legislation but shhhhh) are all very important for the business the cause as well I'm sure, but an animal welfare org would not EXIST without the laborers who know how to, you know, care for the animals. even at the expense of ourselves and our safety.

oops idk, is this rant getting mean? the higher ups are always very nice to me, I'm being a lil mean. but I had to help give a co-worker first aid the other day, and when we were like "hey, you clearly broke something, you're covered in blood, you're fading in and out of consciousness, and we don't know how long you were out before you were able to call for help. let's drive you to a hospital now." they refused to go anywhere but an urgent care clinic cause, u know, money? and then I clocked out late cause we're so overworked we can't afford a single detour during our shift like that. (and can't clock out til all the work is done ^_^). so yeah if I'm coming off a lil bit like a mean commie rn maybe that experience is why. I wonder how often the CEO gets injured on the job? do u think the $80/hr is to cover all those dog bites they get on the daily ... in their personal office space nowhere near the animals?

idk if we're gonna unionize any time soon, but I know I'm not the only one feeling this way. maybe that's the silver lining. still, it doesn't stop the nightmarish elephant in the room either. anywaysssss that's my rant for the day thx

[scentedchildnacho]

I told him ina french The French media and I would go to beauty school....you can like watch it for urban design or city political management but I mostly ended up wanting to go to beauty school.....

The chimps see if you finally help her notice how sharp and hard the styles energetically are instead of soft and round see if it's soft and round and see how much more pleaseing she is and desiring of being helpful and can do....

Have you seen a more can do attitude if color is not flashing and camouflage and all up in your face moving and bright around but if it is just subdued mono color

Beauty school is like run way....and I was more thinking about steal magnolias and dolly Parton and metropolis and someone finally explaining I may be her

I complete

Well multicultural labor starts being used for white chick so sure there are still lots of jobs to not ask treaties to be loosely interpreted

Many cultures are a lot more invasive then white environmental authority allows and I've learned I have to practice that with who wants to others the animal is barbarous and they just go to it

After compass station I've found marking people up with a lot of tattoos because of an acne that appears to be more a disease....kind of really morally wrong for me but

Anyway I was explaining to him that I had to go to school a very long time so I have watched a lot of feminines starve themselves to death to aquire or achieve some sort of secret

So I more wanted to do palliative nutrition hospice work not mentalism....

Anyway a little curiosity into what happened to them because of my own survivor guilt I end up in domestic abuse because truthfully people notice people can hit me or beat me up a bit and I am fine though truth is for a mental label I am actually kind of psychologically resilient and it doesn't affect me much....

So one episode of seeing the same people who beat me up.....to the people who starves themselves to death was enough for me to only want to know the science not the police facts of why they started killing themselves....

It is like hell....and they really really batter and possess them so it's not relevant to their health care and I don't recommend getting involved

Survivor guilt...i am from the states so I already survived childhood to be pretty docile and refuse to.be moved to action easily....

A lot is behavioural she happened to do something arbitrary I have unconscious aversions to so I stand to benefit a lot here im not sure I want or was given to me....

She accidentally hit a dog with her car where I know I'm too unwell to drive

She didn't tell herself she is too unwell and so got called an immigrant

Im unwell and with other commitments so I don't job....she claims solidarity with homeless communities then benefits from family with jobs also....people a little all over the place start looking debted to too much....

People like me view homelessness as a historic continuity of slavery policy so the indentured servitude or jobs are like my enemy

Its the indentured servitude that claims they act for upper class covens so when the upper class wants to use the street it's not bothered by real life or conscience or reminded of consequences

So people like me asked to job after homelessness find that impossible stolkholm syndrome couldnt take more battery finally helped them rob the elderly bank

I promised her I would only prosecute the compass station.....I do complete class work and experimental drug technology ....I complete experimental living....I do little investigative things for the police so homelessness is like a full time job....it's all the time kept on schedule activity and they bring me to an office and just don't issue me a regular paycheck or tell me their done with the study and tell me of other options

Jobs is just not communist you can't prove other then direct verbal threats to incarcerate without crime commited that their involved and homeless people just kind of around is annoying as anything else ...so that's my uncle vet about involvement in foreign war....it's all encouraged annoying behaviours

I told her the weight loss dictator in south California is so Annoying I can't like people anymore and I miss living in the north where people are a comrade and not people who kill if not family ...

All this she is lonely if not with family that character is Foucault inverse though....

Uhm I was white though and the free white people who eventually took over the masters house did that with Africans.....so I don't enjoy the Indians here they don't do enough the way Chicago does to remove fascistic energy from my life....indigenous peoples if northern get out of my face easier and with more

Olive oatman at Voltaire oops that isn't a native tribe you have always known of and understood and that really hurt didn't it

An Indian mother gives the indigenous people in Chicago these like whole freeways to do weird stunts with cars on and stay away from a grandma's hood....and here they wouldn't give them an Autobahn and they brought that out of context

And that's knowing why my grandparents decided to not extend their lives into their 80s....its inevitable that work to create housing and development will bring fascistic conflict so

To my knowledge restoration and antebellum research is intended towards the homeless not jobs....eli Whitney created the cotton gin so mechanics replaced slavery....no need to pick a row and

The indigenous people in San Diego I thought I could be the type of liberal white character that could greet them very warmly.....and like forgotten kin.....but it is just those people and their like useful for that it's all very....oh yea those people are okay sure we could try that sometimes

[noblesandsstories]

Cold

AN: It's been a hot minute since I've written anything, and then suddenly one of the Muses or Apollo smacked me with this. I would not consider this proofread by any means, so proceed with caution and enjoy the fluffy goodness. (Fun fact: As I write this my area is under a severe snow warning and we're expecting to be frozen in. Irony!)

Pair: Jasper (MasoKitty OC) x Ophelia (My OC)

Warnings: Fluff (scawy), light (?) angst, hurt/comfort, first kiss, mentions of traumatic past, let me know if I missed some

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ophelia wasn’t paying too much attention to the state of the apartment when she let Jasper in. She was honestly too caught up in her damn research paper to notice that it wasn’t quite up to snuff in many respects.

But the moment Jasper walked in and visibly flinched and shivered, she realized she might have overlooked some stuff.

“Shit, baby,” Jasper practically rasped out, voice snatched by pure shock. “It’s colder in here than outside.”

She was already putting one of the throw blankets she had lying around over his shoulders, not even bothering to let him take his coat off.

“I know, sorry. I should have had you come over another time. I didn’t make enough at work this past paycheck so I had to figure out what to prioritize. I felt like I could survive without heat, so I turned it down, but then the cold spike came through…” She paused, catching her breath. “You can go home. I get it, it’s rough.”

It looked like Jasper was in shock, then his face turned into something sterner.

“Baby, you can’t live in this. You’ll get sick.” She went to speak, but he held his hand up, stopping her from replying. “There’s no room for debate. Now, where’s the thermo-?”

“Jasper, no. I-,” Ophelia interrupted, stopping when his head whipped around so fast, she worried he hurt himself. (She never realized till that moment she didn’t tell him no very often) “I can’t afford the bill.” She realized how pathetic she sounded, quickly following with, “I’ll be fine! I grew up in Montana, remember? I'm used to the cold.”

With every word she said, Jasper looked more and more like he might have an aneurism. “Love, just because you are used to it, doesn’t mean that it is how it should be. I’ll help pay for it, if you nee-“

“I can’t ask that of you,” she blurted, eyes wide. “That’s not-“

“You are not asking. I am telling. This is final. Do not make me repeat myself. Where’s the thermostat?”

Ophelia’s mouth betrayed her brain. “It’s in the kitchen.” Did she just say that?

Whatever mental lashing she was about to dish muted at the sight of his smile. “There’s a good girl. Now, you go grab your schoolwork and bring it to the table out here.”

Her brain practically purred at his words, body moving before she could think.

He always did that to her, with honeyed words and well-placed compliments, she was putty in his hands. She couldn’t refuse him. And he knew it.

But she realized he never abused this power he held above her. The only times he went explicitly against her will was when he felt like she wasn’t taking care of herself properly. Almost like he felt some kind of responsibility to take her in his arms and personally see to her care and comfort.

And she liked it. She liked feeling like she didn’t have to watch her back, because he was. Like he would take care of anything that could hurt her. Like he truly treasured her.

Ophelia had put her laptop and books down pretty roughly on the table, fighting every bit of emotion she was feeling back with a broom.

Jasper moved around the small wall dividing the kitchen and living room/dining space, two mugs of something in his hands, and Ophelia realized she wasn’t going to hide it in time. Maybe she didn’t want to.

He stopped dead in his tracks when he looked at her, and for a second the room was still. Until the first tear left her eye.

Jasper was right in front of her in an instant, the mugs gone from his hands, which were now caressing her cheeks.

“No no, baby don’t cry, please. What’s wrong?” His voice was soft, like silk brushing across her heart, making the squeeze it caused feel less painful.

She choked, suffocating over her words and emotions, unable to say anything for a long moment before she finally sputtered out some miserable words.

“You love me.”

She felt the air in her lungs halt, brain barely processing the words she just said. Only able to focus on his beautiful amber eyes that seemed to read into her soul, find the shattered pieces of herself, and pull them out of her so he could kiss it better.

Those eyes that now looked so sad, that she could scream at herself for hurting them.

“Ophelia, did you not believe me till now?” It was the first time she ever heard him sound so…weak. She wanted to deny it, to take it all back. But she didn’t.

She shook her head and attempted to speak. “No one’s ever- Not like this-“

She cracked, tears flowing freely after her pathetic confession. Pain and joy and sorrow and love all swirling within her like a typhoon.

Jasper didn’t say anything. He just pulled her close, letting her bawl into him like she was a child, slowly guiding her to the couch. He sat down, pulling her with him and cradling her to his chest, her face buried into his shoulder and his rested on her head.

And there he held her for what could have been minutes or hours, Ophelia couldn’t tell. She was feeling the room start to warm up subtly, which, of course, made her cry harder at the reminder of everything that had happened. But soon the warmth and Jaspers touch brought a soothing comfort that she hadn’t felt since the first time the cold felt so painful, when she was so young.

When she was locked in the shed outside her foster home for the sin of curiosity, denied food and a blanket. She probably would’ve died, if it wasn’t for Dee pulling out the old window and sneaking in with a blanket.

A wave of longing hit at the thought of her sister, causing her tears, which were receding, to flow once more.

Thump

Both Ophelia and Jasper looked over to see Thacker sitting by the couch, staring up at them.

“Let me up.”

Ophelia tried to move to pick him up, but her position on Jaspers lap made it tricky. Not to mention she was half blinded by tears and felt as if she was in a daze.

Jasper nudged her back into place and maneuvered himself to reach for the rabbit, who, to Ophelia’s utter shock, let himself get picked up. Jasper placed him in Ophelia’s waiting arms.

Thacker maneuvered himself to where their chests were along each other, his heart beating over hers. His lungs released heavy, controlled breaths, and with each exhale she felt her emotions even out, no longer overwhelming her.

With the fading of the emotions and memories of the past, came clairvoyance of the present. And Ophelia realized quite quickly she made herself look like a damn fool.

She shot her head up so fast she nearly missed whacking Jasper in the face. As she looked him in the eye, she felt her face flush with embarrassment.

Sure she’s had her moments in front of him before, but by the gods, she just bawled in his arms because he cares about her. What sane person does that?

Jasper's laugh, smooth and rich and warm, brought her attention back to him.

“You’re so cute when you’re embarrassed, you know that?” He teasingly flicked her nose. “Even though you don’t need to be. I know what you’re about to start on about. So sit silent and listen.”

“You are my partner. Me listening to your problems, taking care of you, drying your tears are all part of the job. And I want to do these things for you. I want you to be the best you can be and I want to support that as best as I can. Because you’re right. I do love you. And I want to show it as much as I can.”

If Ophelia hadn’t spent the past gods know how long crying, she probably would have teared up again. But instead…

“Can I…”

She spoke so softly, Jasper had to move himself closer to hear her.

“Can I kiss you?”

Ophelia’s chest tightened, studying Jasper's face. But he only smiled gently.

“Sweetheart, you never have to ask.”

Ophelia had never kissed anyone, hardly knew how it worked. She was hoping it was as easy as it looked on the few movies and shows she’d seen.

She leaned into him, lifting her head to look him dead in the face. He was watching her intently, not moving an inch. She mustered up her courage, and shortened the distance, connecting her lips to his.

Her heart melted, swooning at the feeling of him against her. Her body, as if on instinct, moved to grasp onto his arms, using him as a tether to this reality. This marvelous reality that she never wanted to leave.

Jasper subtly leaned back, breaking the kiss gently and bringing his hand up to cup her jaw. Their eyes met, and Ophelia did her best to not to show that she was quite disgruntled with the end to their moment.

“Well, baby,” he purred, his voice in his lower register, the sound making her spine shiver, “Was it good for your first kiss?”

Of course he’d figure it out.

She nodded, burying her face in his shoulder to hide her blush, to which Jasper laughed.

“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he cooed, gently cupping her face and moving it to where he could see her. “There you are. My pretty girl.”

Ophelia went light headed at the praise, subconsciously nuzzling her face in his hand. She came back to Earth fast enough to see something dark shining in his eyes quickly go away, as he began to maneuver her off his lap so he could stand.

“I'm pretty sure the tea I made for you has gotten cold, but I’ll heat it back up for you. Go ahead and get your school work out while I fix it. And you may want to take your jacket off. Seems like the heat kicked on.”

Ophelia watched him disappear into the kitchen, trying to uncover what emotion he just pressed away a second ago.

“Maybe you should keep him around.”

Ophelia looked back to Thacker, who was no longer snuggling but sitting in her lap, staring at her.

“Why’s that?” She whispered.

“He’s reasonable enough to turn the heat on during a freeze warning.”

He jumped out of her lap and began to head over to his “room” (a closet she repurposed), but before he went away she heard one last thing.

“He makes you feel safe.”

[youalexturnermeon]

Warm Beer and Cold Women Pt.3 (Johnny Lawrence x Reader)

Part 1

Part 2

Request: Hi! I absolutely love your work and I was wondering if I could get a Cobra Kai Johnny imagine where the reader is a bartender and starts crushing on him since he’s a regular and he flirts with her all the time and she pretends to hate it but she actually loves it? by Anon

A/N: Before you read you should know that I adjusted the timeline a little, all mistakes in the timeline that you are noticing are on purpose. Also I decided to let johnny keep his black Cobra Kai car in that one. Then I’m perfectly aware of the fact that I lowkey drifted away from the actual request but don’t worry, I’m coming back to that. It’s the second last part to this little series. Enjoy.

Warnings: badass reader, drinking, DUI, swearing, ANGST, a little fluff

Wordcount: 2650

"Jesus Christ, (Y/N), thank god you're finally here!" was the first thing you heard from Jenny as soon as you set foot into the bar for yet another late shift on a boring Thursday night.

"We've been waiting for you for hours!" Jenny said and grabbed your arm dragging you further inside. You were staggered, "What the fuck, Jen, I'm not even late, I know I was yesterday but I'm perfectly on time today! Look," you pointed towards a clock on the wall "8 pm sharp."

"Jesus, don't you ever check your phone?" she went on ignoring you. And as a matter of fact, you didn't. You trashed it a couple of days ago as a result of a drunk rage after another shift without your favourite regular. That's why you've been borrowing your colleague’s phone to call yourself an Uber home. But that was still not helping you understand why you were needed so much. Apparently, the bar was waiting for your arrival since the opening at last. In the distance, behind the almost empty counter you saw the staff door opening and Kenny making his way to you in a quick pace.

"She's is here!" Jenny called out to him as if he wasn't able to see that for himself.

"Finally."

"What the fuck?" you asked again, trying to think of all the things you could've done wrong in the past weeks, but you couldn't find any. You never messed up a drink, you always locked the doors, you even cleaned the puke in the men's bathroom. "Am I in trouble?"

Kenny shook his head, you looked at him quizzically.

"It's about your boyfriend," Jenny helped him out answering. You almost blurted out 'He's not my boyfriend' as it was already on the tip of your tongue because you were so deeply conditioned to say that. But when your glance skipped over the almost empty seats by the counter again, your heart suddenly skipped a beat and when it was back at keeping you alive it started beating so hard against your ribs as if it was about to burst. Johnny was back.

"He's been here since we opened at 5," Kenny said, sounding a little annoyed "He's drunk off his ass, came in drunk already, and refuses to leave until he sees you. We tried to throw him out but he's one persistent motherfucker and lowkey aggressive, muttering your name saying he needs to talk to you and nobody else."

"Yeah, maybe you should go and talk to him" Jenny affirmed. But you were already on your way. Without a word you almost stormed over.

At first you wouldn't have noticed him. He didn't look like himself, sitting there on his regular seat at the end, head hanging, covered by his hands. He looked rough.

The two weeks he didn't show himself, you almost started hating him. You thought him to be like any other man on earth who, after they broke you, finally got you to get soft towards them, waking your interest after hundreds of times trying, just disappeared without a trace. First you were blaming yourself, asking yourself if you went too far with your little game of pretend, whilst still waiting every day for him.  Had it been too much for him saving you the other day and getting his face bashed in for you? You wished he'd come and tell you what a bitch he thought you were to your face. Then you despised him for giving you up so quickly. But as soon as you laid eyes on him all these negative thoughts disappeared, and you were just concerned. Concerned about his condition, only the question inside your head how on earth you, a simple barkeeper, were able to help him with that. You grabbed a bottle of whisky and simply headed to the other side of the counter, not standing in front but sitting next to him this time. The worst about it, he didn't even take notice of you at first.

"Johnny," you said softly placing a hand on his arm. Like being electrocuted by this touch, he winced but finally looked up. You almost gasped at his appearance. Normally he was always clean shaven, now he looked like hadn't shaved in days. Besides that, he was also hurt. At first you thought his injuries might still be from his encounter with the three men that were bothering you, but the scratches and bruises were fresh, and a band aid was sticking to his forehead that wasn't needed before. Johnny blankly stared at you from his bloodshot eyes and you suddenly felt the urge to hug him. But you resisted, first you had to get him to talk. Instead, you grabbed two of the glasses in front of Johnny uncorked the bottle of whisky and poured you one. You took a sip of the burning liquid hoping for some courage to miraculously appear as you watched Johnny silently drinking, too.

Kenny walked by on the way back to his office, judgingly eyeing you.

"Damn, I have to start taking all the booze you're drinking here from your paycheck, (Y/N), slow the fuck down, would you?" he said sighing with one foot already inside. Out of a sudden Johnny snapped.

"Jesus Kenny, don't wet your precious leather pants," he shouted out, slamming his glass on the counter "I'm gonna pay for it! Let a girl enjoy her drink for once" Some heads turned in your direction.

You held still for a second and didn't dare to breathe, afraid of another fight to happen since normally Kenny didn't allow anybody talk to him like that. But he simply shook his head and closed the door behind him, muttering something like "This girl actually has to work here, but whatever" leaving you alone with Johnny.

"You look hot, as always," he said trying to smile, yet the smile didn't reach his sad eyes. He almost looked like he's been crying.

"And you look like shit."

"You mean that?" he gestured at his face noticing your gaze upon his massive black eye. You nodded.

"That's nothing."

"What happened, Johnny?" you asked but he did not answer and just kept on sitting in silence, sipping his drink from time to time. Then, after what seemed like forever, he finally looked you straight in the eyes.

"I fucked up, (Y/N), that's what happened, I fucked up big time."

"Tell me!"

"As if you give two shits about it, you probably wouldn't care. You fucking despise me and my sorry ass."

"I do care!"

“Nah, you wouldn’t!”

You sprung off your seat, you did not expect that coming out of his mouth, also it hurt to hear him say that, because you really did care about him! You probably cared about him more than anything in your life at the moment. But if he was going to be a bitch to you so were you.

“Well, don’t waste my fucking time then!” you exclaimed “And stop annoying everyone that you need to see talk to me instead of fucking off. I can gladly leave you all by yourself so you can keep on pitying yourself. Nice seeing you, jerk!”

And you were about to storm off, go back to pretending to work just like you did every other day when there was nothing else to do, when you instantly heard a “(Y/N), wait!”

You turned around and saw Johnny, now more miserable than ever, showing at your seat inviting you to sit back down. You swallowed your pride and did so.

“I’m sorry,” he said “I just can’t believe that someone would actually give a shit about me at all. And I did want to talk to you, I still do. You’re the only one I want to see right now.” “Then tell me what’s going on.”

“There’s this kid,” he started sighed and stopped, then took another sip of his whisky and began again “I have a dojo in a strip mall, I’m a sensei,” “What’s that?” you blurted out before you could stop yourself and you felt stupid. Johnny looked at you, completely staggered, forgetting his pain for a moment. Proving you that it was in fact a probably very stupid question.

“It’s a Karate place, I teach Karate there.”

“Go on.”

“I have a shit ton of nerds that I teach but they’re mostly good kids, they got bullied a lot before, but I helped them, I showed them how to kick ass, so no one dares to fuck with them anymore. There’s this one kid, Miguel, I’ve been teaching him since the beginning, he actually gave me the idea to open a dojo, he begged me to and he’s a great kid, he really grew on me. He lives next door with his mom and grandma, they’re great people, Mexicans. I even learned a bit of Spanish from them. And I’ve been hanging out a lot with him lately. I really, really liked him.”

He rubbed his eyes and stopped talking.

“What do you mean you liked him?” you asked carefully and studied Johnny’s face that he covered with his hands again.

“There’s more to the story. There’s another dojo in town, fucking Miyagi-Do. Of course, you can’t expect only one dojo to be there in L.A but how I wish that at least that one wouldn’t exist. The sensei is a twat. I fucking hate this guy. And his kids started fighting with my kids at school and not like throwing some punches at each other and leaving it be after somebody starts crying. No, they started a fucking Karate War at school. I mean, I get it, when I was their age I also took Karate way too seriously but letting it go this far? I don’t know, I can’t really understand that. It got out of hand real quick two weeks ago.”

“Fuck, did something bad happen?” you wondered and poured yourself and Johnny another whisky.

He nodded and stared into the distance. You waited for him to answer.

“There was a fight two weeks ago and apparently it got really bad. Miguel got kicked off a balcony at school, he fell two stories deep, spine-first onto a handrail.” You gasped. You school also had problems with fighting, a lot to be precise but as far as you knew, no one got kicked off from somewhere.

“He’s been in a coma now for two weeks and they say that the chances of waking up from a coma after two weeks are pretty miserable. He might as well be dead by now.”

“It’s gonna be fine,” you said although not knowing shit about coma, you just wanted t comfort Johnny. You could not stand seeing him so broken you even wished he would go back to his old nature again, hitting on you, joking and just having a good time “He’s probably going to wake up soon and go back to Karate again.”  

“You don’t know that!” Johnny said raising his voice, “He broke his fucking spine, (Y/N), even if he wakes up, he’s probably going to be crippled for his whole life.”

He took a deep breath and drank his whisky at once, grunting at the burning feeling in his throat.

“And now my own kid is in fucking juvie for kicking Miguel of a railing and he won’t even talk to me!”

“Wait, you have a kid?” you wondered and stared at Johnny wide-eyed, not knowing what else to say, this was surely a surprise for you. And Johnny went on with his rant.

“Yeah, Robby, he’s 17. But that doesn’t matter now, does it? He’s locked up, doesn’t want to hear a word from me, but that’s okay,” his voice was cynical, you could hear how much despised himself right in the moment and it was painful to see.

“I’ve been a shit father anyways, right? Every single day of his life I’ve been failing him. I wasn’t around much. I did nothing to keep him out of trouble. If so, I only made it worse, I only pushed him to train with Miyagi-Do and what happened to Miguel is all on me.” Despite calming himself down with a drink, Johnny’s voice got louder with every word he spoke. Again, heads were turning towards you, but you didn’t care.

“It’s not your fault what happened,” you said calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder, he was so tensed that you might as well have been touching a stone. And Johnny shook your hand of and let out a hateful laugh.

“Not my fault?” he shouted his lungs out “Who else’s fault is it then? Of course, it is mine. It is all on me, I fucked up. I fucked up both Robby’s and Miguel’s lives and on top of that mine’s not that great either. I spent the night in a fucking cell.”

“Calm down, Johnny,” you said softly and finally went in for a hug “It’s going to be okay; I promise!”

“No, it’s not!” he yelled as you wrapped your arms around him tightly pressing yourself against his trembling chest. At first, he let his arms sink and didn’t do anything, he kept on shouting, making even more heads turn towards all the noise, but then suddenly he buried his scrubby face into crook of your neck and sighed, finally placing his hands on your back, finally relaxing, firmly embracing you. You could’ve stayed like that for ever.

“C’mon, (Y/N), get him out of here!”, you suddenly heard Kenny who stood there, arms crossed, watching you, “He’s scaring off the people.”

You released Johnny from your hold who went back to staring down the counter whilst burying his face in his rough hands, just the way you have found him.

“Yeah, alright, I’ll bring him home.”

“Yeah, sure, feel free to come back to work whenever you’re ready, no rush. Or maybe you want to do home office instead?” said Kenny sarcastically and you rolled your eyes.

“C’mon Kenny, I can’t let him go home like this alone, he’ll kill himself on the way. Besides, he’s probably the reason this place still hasn’t gone bankrupt. And I’m the reason he keeps coming, so maybe we owe him that?”

The big biker in front of you didn’t look too happy but he knew you were right, still, he wasn’t that easy to convince.

“Come on,” you said putting on your best puppy eyes, trying to look all cute because you knew the old man liked you deep inside “I’ll do double shift tomorrow, I promise. But just please let me go.”

Kenny stood motionless.

“Please?”

“Alright, alright, I’ll cover for you. But if you don’t come in early tomorrow…” “I know, I know, you’ll fire me” you finished his sentence and smiled at him.

Then you nudged Johnny who was not getting any of the conversation you just had and told him about your plan about getting him home. He stood up and he clearly wasn’t very strong on his feet. He was swaying from side to side on the way out.

“Okay, give me your keys, Johnny,” you said when you arrived at his black dodge. Normally you would have made fun of the yellow stripes and snakes all over, but you weren’t in the mood for it.

“I think I remember you telling me that you don’t have a license anymore and that you’re not willing to get involved into DUIs anymore.” And yet he submissively handed you over his car keys. You shrugged and got in the car, waiting for him to take the shotgun seat.

“I guess we all have to make exceptions sometimes. Now concentrate and lead me the way.”

“Thank you” Johnny said, his voice now all raspy and he suddenly looked tired “Now you are saving my ass.”

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

PART 4

Already working on part 4 whether you like it or not, I’m too invested in that one

Sorry to all waiting for their requests to be written, I’ll soon be on it

Thanks for reading!

Taglist: @lililolli​ (you want to be on the taglist, too? drop me a message)

[boethiah]

If you don't want to talk about it anymore feel free to delete this, but it's so strange how much people focus on the car thing and feel like you're indicting them personally for Climate Crimes (as if they don't already know it's bad) when there ARE other things we/they could tackle immediately without worrying abt infrastructure needs that would be more slow to come. The whole 'no ethical consumption' crowd may not have as much of an impact, individually, as large companies, but put all those individuals together doing, like, a voluntary challenge to cut their plastic/non recyclable materials consumption could have more of an impact than whining at a Tumblr blogger abt how you made them feel bad. And maybe I'm missing the point too, but I thought THAT was the point of your og post: that ppl have to accept that they as individuals, especially in the west, can't just blame large companies and HAVE to be more conscientious as consumers where they can, and in ways that WILL change the way they live bc the current mainstream western lifestyle is unsustainable. And inb4 you get an anon saying even THAT isnt accessible bc poor ppl, that dumb excuse isn't true bc I'm trying to do it as someone living paycheck to paycheck AND bc a lot of poor ppl who have no choice already do stuff that's considered 'Climate friendly' out of necessity. We all benefit from our western lifestyles, and we all do things that arent great for the environment, but I feel like the climate issue has more armchair activists than any other movement who will bitch online and then do next to nothing in their day to day life bc ~it's the companies that are evil~ and I'm sick of the do nothing attitude towards this shit. Even if you can't realistically give up your car, if you care, you can still make SOME KIND of effort.

see while I agree with you and appreciate this ask, even you're reading more into my original statement than I meant. What I was trying to say was "people in the west benefit from the climate catastrophe, and if its ever addressed well lose the privileges we have now" now granted im not very good at expressing myself but really that's all I meant to say. and to me the fact people are reading so much into it is a sign that it needs to be said because evidently some people aren't used to hearing it like that and don't know how to cope with the feeling this fact inspires.

[hadtochangemyurlquick]

I'm Home - An Emison Fic

So I know nothing about the army or anything I went completely based off background knowledge, so if I get something wrong message me. This is a oneshot for now but I can write some new chapters, tell me if you'd like that. This takes place two years after whatever happens in the finale. Um they found AD, the bitch was a bad person, they died, everyone else was fine. Alison's kid is Emily's. So yeah, nothing too intense... Thanks guys! :) ------ Even before the ring of the doorbell for the second time, even before the notes stopped arriving, even before the promises were broken, even before Emily sat her down on the couch, Alison knew it was all over. Because the news kept playing a familiar tune, and Uncle Sam kept singing 'I need you'. So when Emily sat Alison down and told her that she wanted to enlist Alison was far from surprised. But she was a born liar, and a born fighter so she acted that way. "What. The. Hell." She growled. "I know it's not... great, but I need to do this," Emily tried, she moved the hair out of her face. "I need to help those people." "Help yourself Em!" Alison begged, "Help me! Help your daughter! We're right here, not thousands of miles away!" "It's only for five years and then I'll be home, for good," Emily reasoned, "You were already gone for five years, remember? How'd that turn out?!" Emily smiled sadly at her wife. "My dad was a solider. I've been wondering a lot if he'd be proud of me. Who I am Alison? A dictator is killing and torturing his own people, and I'm teaching breath strokes to teenagers!" "Of course your dad would be proud of you! You have a beautiful daughter, a loving wife, and you're inspiring a new generation of athletes!" Alison argued, "you don't have to join the army to prove yourself." Alison was begging now and Emily took her hands. "I have to do this Ali, for me, for you, for our daughter, and for those people. The pay will be better so we won't be living paycheck to paycheck, I'll still see you for a month every year, and it's only for five years. Then I'll be home, safe and sound." Ali was crying now, soft cool tears slipped down her cheeks. "If it's what you want I'll support you," Alison muttered, "always. But please, please, please, please think about it." "I have, for weeks now. It's the best thing for this family. I've even told my mom. I'm... enlisting tomorrow." Alison's eyes widened. "That's really soon," the blonde muttered and the brunette pulled her in as they both began to cuddle. "People are dying everyday Ali, I've got to do it now. Besides," she now tried to put up an air of bravado, "I'm the perfect solider, I'm already traumatized." They both chuckled a little. "Have you told the others?" Ali asked and Emily sighed. "You know I hate goodbyes..." The girl said. Alison glared at her, "alright geez I will!" The two wives shared a sad smile. "Estella will miss you," Alison said now, referring to their two year old daughter. "I'll miss her," Emily said, her voice thick. "She'll have to grow up with one Mom." The blonde said slowly, let the words roll of her tongue. "Okay don't get dramatic, I'll be back for good by the time she's seven." The brunette glared. "I promise." She lied. All things considered Alison did pretty well with Estella. The dark haired girl was bright, and kind, and good, she smiled with her whole face and loved everyone. All the things Alison was never able to be. Emily wrote every day, just of what had happened, nothing interesting, and she called every chance she got. They had deployed her almost immediately as she surpassed a lot of the physical requirements and already knew how to shoot a gun and swim. Turns out she was the perfect solider. And the pay was really helping them, Alison wasn't loosing sleep over money anymore, just Emily. It was ironic that all throughout high school she'd thought she'd get a sugar daddy and be some gold digger, but now that she was married she couldn't care less how much money she had, she just wanted her wife back. The times when Emily had been home were glorious, it was soft and gentle touches, and squeezing out every second they could spend together. Often Ali would pull Estella out of school for a few days just so they could bond. And by the time the five years were up it looked like the tide was turning. And even though the notes had been decreasing in frequency, and the calls as well, Alison still hoped. And even though Emily's unit was deep into enemy territory, and she hadn't heard anything in weeks, Alison still hoped. Because Emily promised she be back in time for Christmas. But Emily lied. Christmas came and passed and they heard nothing, Estella cried, Alison just bit her lip and worried. Valentine's Day passed and Estella cried when she saw the roses on the kitchen table. "Just to brighten up the room," Alison explained, "she'll be home soon." But when Easter came and passed, and there hadn't been a letter, and call since before Christmas Alison felt a little part of her break. When the first ring on her doorbell came sometime in the deep heat in august Alison wasn't very surprised, just really sad. She didn't even have the energy to act surprised when they told her that her wife was missing in action and handed her a flag. So Alison was right when she said that her daughter would grow up without a parent. But she never wanted to be. To great credit on the blondes part she never let it consume her. She never locked herself away in her room and cried, she never took it out on Estella, she just placed the flag gently in the attic and told her daughter to "buck up." "Mom," the seven year old said, "what if she doesn't come back." Alison had smiled and wiped away the tears. "My dear, your mother has let me down twice in her life, and both of those times she always came back. She'll be fine." Two of the people in Emily's squad had been killed in a bombing, the rest of them, including Emily were missing. They suspected capture, but the men and women of whom Ali were acquainted who were married to the soldiers in that squad suspected there was nothing left to find. From what she had heard of the dollhouse, of torture, or of Radley, she hoped those women were right. Emily's mom moved in after two more years passed and both learned to support each other. Alison read Estella great expectations and told her love stories before she went to bed. She woke up with tears in her eyes, Pocahontas was always just inches away. The war finally ended a year later but Alison couldn't celebrate in the streets with everyone else. Her battles were daily, and had so many casualties. One day Pam Fields didn't wake up even though she was only sixty. The stress had given her a heart attack. Five years passed and the doorbell rang a second time, at around five-thirty. Alison told all her friends, the ups man, the pizza deliverer, her brother, everyone, never to ring the doorbell. Because the doorbell was reserved for the army. Who would want to open their door expecting take out and get heartbreak instead? Everyone complied and knocked. So when the doorbell rang on a Tuesday, Alison squared her shoulders. Estella who was in the kitchen frozen. She was fifteen now, and more beautiful and good everyday. The door bell rang again and alison sighed. "I'll be back in a bit, stay here." Estella continued to stir the soup, her feet frozen. She heard a cry and crash and she cringed. She read somewhere that the soldiers who delivered the flag often stayed with the widows for awhile and helped them. She hoped one was helping her mom up now. Then she heard something she never thought she'd hear. Crying. No, not crying, sobbing. Her mom was sobbing. She had never seen her Mom cry at a movie much less heard her sob. So it wasn't any of her fault if the raven haired girl just had to run in and save her Mom. No stranger could provide enough of the comfort she needed. She couldn't either but she could try. She ran in to see Alison sobbing into Emily's chest the brunette stroking the blondes hair softly. "I'm home," she kept whispering, "I'm home and never leaving again." "Hey Mom," Estella muttered. Emily looked up. "Hey kiddo, did you get your homework done? We're having company over." Emily smiled and Estella smiled too, using her whole face. "Just have to do a paper for English," Estella responded and Alison growled. "I'll move the deadline back you brat," the teacher muttered from inside Emily's army jacket. "C'mon now babe, that's no way to talk to our daughter," Emily giggled. "Not your daughter anymore I remarried," Alison muttered and Emily laughed now. "Oh yeah who is he? I'll kill him." "Didn't work so well the first time," Alison snarked, and Emily kissed the top of her head. "If you want something done right, never let Hanna do it," she muttered. She looked at Estella, "that's a good lesson. If you want to kill someone don't let Hanna do it for you." Estella raised her eyebrow, having not been filled in on any of the 'family history', except that her mom had a previous marriage with an abusive man. "I'll keep that in mind," the fifteen year old said slowly. Alison finally began to extract herself from Emily and the brunette turned to her daughter. "C'mere Stella." And the Mom and daughter hugged. For the first time in six years they hugged. Maybe it was the fact that no one called her Stella except Emily, maybe it was that it had been so long, maybe it was a million things but they were all sobbing now, sobbing and hugging but very much a family.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

"40 acres and a mule"

Baby what the Hell you want a mule for?

Alright baby. Let me tell you.

You will never ever ever get reparations.

Y'all this lady instigated him and pissed him off. Called him a dam liar and a begger and all kinds of bad.

I quit watching it. I seen enough. "Hustler"

Bitch I'll hustle my fist in your teeth and get you a new set, don't talk hustle when you don't know a dam thing about it.

Let me tell you about me.

I'm registered 1/16 Muscogee (Musckogee and/or Muskogee as well) Creek Nation out of Oklahoma. Our tribe headquarters is in Oklahoma in a mound of dirt -- under a pile of earth is our headquarters.

We have the original council house of brick in town it's a measeuem were all very proud of. Its on 6th street. On a big ole square.

So. Let me tell you. We used to be in Georgia. That's why i picked Atlanta for a big ole fuck you fire. I picked others but I said "this is a government thing?"

"Not really Sabrina it's more police"

"I'm hearing government in that word. Can I fuck up Atlanta? I'll take some country Georgia but you know my tribe is from Atlanta specifically. I don't want no one to get hurt though"

Tree said "i got something perfect, a Wendy's because you use to live in Ireland, too Miss Red Leg hairs in the sun"

"Alright then. Ill take you on Then. Its a done deal".

This was 2008 and to be clear, we didn't start human trafficking in that parking lot -- they already was. 12 years and they ain't stopped. We did intervene but, they dumb and stubborn and they stayed away from the Wendy's unlike the other night. For the last 12 years. This way they would be more inclined to use it. Like we bust them and they keep on. They don't care. Its greed. An addiction. They can't see. So.

I get punched in the face and I get back up and fight again. Same thing - different American Dreams.

So Spain came now Spain is over by Europe. Look at a map. And we left. From fear, we went to Florida.

We didn't have no label. We were humans. We were love. So we moved down to Tampa area.

Then we got named by the whites. The whites then fought us unlike the Spaniards who just wanted to share and we didn't want to. So we just left.

So some of us was all fuck you. We ain't moving just because Spain said we did for them don't mean we will for you. So. We fought.

Some of us were captured. So then the white people said you will show us America, The New World. Like bitch you think we know it all been all over and shit like we got cars. Fuck.

So the whites raped and tried to kill all that refused to move. So they left them. We left them. They were named Seminoles.

Because semen they were raped and we also left the old that were unable to travel. And the small kids. Two words. Semen in. Olds. Raped. Wounded. Old and children.

The rest of us took the whites and Spaniards (some did and some didn't war) across the new world.

And we followed Creeks. The Spaniards knew the rivers went North and South. They wanted to go West.

So we walked. All the way to the Middle of the United States of America. And stopped.

We said we want our land. We want our trust. We want our lives back. You go do you and leave us here and alone without you.

The Spaniards agreed. And the whites of course so fucking greedy and non cognitive. Fought.

Eventually we got our land. My family. We had a big ole 2 floor 10 room mansion. It felt like.

32 years later the government decided they wanted to build a dam. And once again. Our land was gone.

And our land was stolen.

Now that glorious home we had that my family earned to show the way West is gone. Flooded under a lake built by a dam in Oklahoma.

They moved us to Okmulgee about 45 minutes South of Tulsa.

Its not a reservation. Anyone can live there. In fact our HQ is in the city limits.

And we don't have land. We don't have anything we were promised.

Since i don't live there and i live in New Mexico, I don't get any of the benefits. And because New Mexico Native Americans warred with each other due to the Hispanics from Central America. Other Nations don't like to help me.

Here. Native American tribes in New Mexico. They're prejudice against each other. And whites.

And it's really fucking bad. I used to work at the BIA. Beaururu of Indian Affairs. "What tribe are you?" And if you were Aztec you were cool. If you were Peublo you were fighting with Navajo. And vice versa.

And we were making sure people of ALL Tribes got money for their needs. Like for medicine or transportation. And our office was fighting each other.

Like what the Hell? We all have the same purpose here. We all come from the same place, we all have the same heart and same pain. And we're all are hurt and so why are you all hurting each other?

I got a tattoo of an Indian Head on my left lower arm so no matter what unless it was long sleeves, everyone could see.

And i would hear them physically hitting each other. And they all remembered I got the tattoo and i showed them when i came back from lunch and I wss all bleeding and it was brand new.

Then i went around and showed them all as it healed. Showed them progress and lack off.

So they would fight. The Aztecs didn't put up with shit like me. And so people would try to dominate them

So i could always hear them fight. And it was a big office. An entire floor of the big Compass Bank building in Albuquerque. But I could always hear them except on the complete opposite because door ways. But three certain ladies would go to the hall and call for me to go stop it.

You know. It was the year 2000. I was only born in 1985 although I have always used a different birthday since i was adopted of 1980.

So literally I was 15 years old. "Legally" i was only 19 and not even old enough to buy alcohol and there I was pulling grammas off each other And people old enough to be my mom.

They called me a stupid white. Because I am light skinned. A stupid white nigger. I know what that is. An abusive slave owner

Me!! Me of all people!!!

I already had PTSD coming out the ass and i could barely drag my ass out of bed in the morning because i wss so suicidal depressed. And i get called a slave owner. A lazy and abusive one at that!?!

"Well i don't see you working!! You wanna call people nigger you brown ass bitch?!?! Your ass is always fighting!! Why don't you go earn a paycheck!!" She regretted running her mouth at me more than 2x. I had shoved her and when she got closer, she claimed because she couldn't hear although people from the complete opposite walls came running, i punched her in the face. Cold coked her dead to the floor. She had that evil gleam. The dead Zulululu look. That evil dumb bitch look. And no fucking way was she touching me. So then her back up who was like 7 foot tall grabbed up my hair and vagina and threw me 8 feet across the room.

I just got up and sat at my desk and pretended like nothing happened. Just like the Zulululu do. I had road rash like a mother fucker tho.

I got him later in the parking lot. Shoved him in front of a moving car at 40 mph. This girl that worked with us. A 68 mustang all real metal total steel.

He never came back to work to mess with us. And,the girl got transferred to another floor. And I got called down for her 5th fight and I interviewed the people around the fight area and they said they all worked in peace until she had come. They had whites tho.

And most New Mexico Native Americans HATE HATE HATE HATE HATE whites.

So she got fired, I recommended it. She couldn't get along with anyone. I recommended she get a job on her reservation in Montana for her tribe and so the BIA paid for her to move. Citing emotional difficulties, PTSD due to government intervention in Native American lives.

So this man he's asking for reparation in this video.

And i just want to answer him..

You never will. They were gonna fire her. Leave her dead. I asked special they send her away to a place she could likely find peace.

Nd she did. But if it wasn't for me, she would had nothing.

And she had called me a white nigger and I got thrown 8 feet across the room because of her.

I'm adding her now and him to the list. Idc if they been interviewed, its eye for an eye. They are both Zulululu and still causing fights over nothing.

I had slammed her against the wall by her throat and i wanted to kill her and i should had. But i told her "im going to do something for yoh because i hate myself more than i hate you and you will accept it. And if hou keep acting like this you will receive death more than me slamming your head on this printer until you can't breathe" then i put all the pressure I could without killing her on her throat. Then killed her anyway. Died myself went through the black hole and dragged her ass back in her body pushed the EMT OFF ME, got up and jumped on her stomach and chest full body and killed her again then this bitch tried to go to the sun, so i got her ass back. Threw her ass back in. Woke up in the fucking elevator, trying to get outta the stretcher "oh im fine where is this dam bitch"

"Oh my God! You gotta lay down!"

"Fine i bet she's not back in" got out of my body and found her hiding in the dirt.

This bitch wanted to fight?! She was gonna find me fighting her. Behind death for the rest of her life.

She was old, too. Like 46... I was only 15/19. More than twice my age. 3x my real.

I woke up in the stretcher downstairs laughing and farting. She was crying how scared she was. I thought it was funny. I was so mad I didn't care how she felt. Scared was not what i expected. It surprised me and made me laugh. I didn't know how she would feel. She never stopped fighting. Scared of me? Nah. Im just an innocent sweet babe.

So other than her, i would show people my tattoo when the fought. "You and I. You and her. We all come from the same place. We are all Indians! Look at me! My tattoo! It hurt! For no reason and I didn't want it to! Lets just get over it and heal ourselves in our souls the Indian way!"

They had saw. Some had taken photos. They knew it hurt. It swelled up. It was red. Imflammed but not infected. Like anger of the hearts.

I shouldn't had to prove we suffered

So I ask those asking or demanding reparations, please don't.

We don't all have benefits. And we have pain and suffering. And a lot is jealousy because some tribes have more than others.

If you get reparations, i fear the ramifications.

"Oh them ni**ers got shit and we didn't"

Babes. Sometimes it just time to let go.

Just let it go, baby.

I can't think of my family's land and mansion under water. Flooded. I get punched in the fucking heart. And it hurts. It hurts so bad

I ain't a piece of trash. Following a dam creek so fucking far just to climb what looked like another mountain. Fuck that.

Then they flood it. Fuck you back.

Fuck you back. Fuck you back. They said. FUCK YOU. BECAUSE YOU DIDNT WANT TO BE RAPED AND WOUNDED AND YOU TOOK US TO THE MIDDLE OF THE COUNTRY ON YOUR BARE FEET AND HALF YOU DIED ALONG THE WAY BECAUSE WE BEAT AND RAPED YOU ANYWAY. FUCK YOU BACK FOR NO REASON THAT YOU WERE ALIVE AND IN OUR NEW WORLD FIRST.

OUR NEW WORLD. FUCK YOU. PIECE OF TRASH.

Lost city of Atlantis. People look for it by Greece and shit. Its just in Oklahoma.

We came from Atlanta. "Fine this can be your new Atlas location" said the Spaniards..

But they were too nice. Christopher Columbus was too nice. Spaniards brought food and shelters. But we we're afraid of them. Their odd food, and so on. We did not know what they were. We didn't recognize any one. When we went to Florida they did go with. It was exploration to them. Running away to us. They followed, just curious.

Then we understood. They were like children playing. Innocent. They followed. They kept us safe.

They knew we were afraid once there was a ravine. Their scouts spotted it. They knew we ran our horses too fast and we would all died. They raced ahead in the night while we camped and they all stood to block us off. 100 feet from the edge they formed a line of their own bodies to stop us.

That is when we knew we could trust the Spaniards. So we went scout back to Atlanta to see what happened there. And to tell what had occurred. That our lives had been saved.

Then we took court. We camped near side them for 10 days to decide how much of our lives we should give. Reports came back that 100% trust would be accurate. And so slowly we allowed the "wapuauhaluani" to lean into the Spaniards to truly see what they were all about.

We became friends.

But the whites took over the country. And we all lost.

So I understand what my brothers and sisters and my ma's and pas and little babies in the African American community is going through.

From the eyes of my current life as a registered 1/16 Native American, 23andme says only 3%

As a person to get a tattoo to stop war after I did so many years of community work in the Black Panthers where obviously I am not black any more and I was accepted.

I know what it feels like to be white and hated.

I know what it feels like to be hated for the color of my skin.

As a white person.

But fully accepted into the black community..

So excuse me when I go to a state that has an actual African American population and I just sit and stare looking like a true jack ass.

I just feel like myself. I feel complete. And I feel accepted.

And so not all of you know me. I do work in South America and all over the globe and i treat them all the same.

Reparations, i am afraid. I know and I believe will have repercussions this day and age.

So now Altlanta. Where i am from. My tribe was all brown there. Is now black.

I don't be ignorant and hate them because they took over my town.

That's not why i say. I say because it happens to everyone else.

And so I plan to treat people all the same. We do the DNA4U paid education and quizzes. And i know its not what you ask but it is done by the Tree of Infinite Knowledge.

And right now I'm just a POW and i can't do more than what I can.

But all you beautiful people that is gonna survive. I promise you.

Every single person on this Earth has suffered.

Every single person will get rewards for living. Every thing will be okay..

I know it's not today. Today is the fight for our beautiful children in this world and ourselves.

Its not almost over yet its not just beginning.

This is the orgasm state. Orgasm. So intense and wild and pleasurable and exhausting.

What comes after? Bliss and peace.

Tree keeps telling me two to four years more

My babies, it sounds so long. But every time he says 2 years I say "Well at least it's only 2"

I ask him 3 times a week. "How long is it now?"

We are gonna be okay.

You know those books that you pick the ending? What you do effects it?

Sometimes you can do 5 different things and the ending is the same?

People. I saw call it the "plandemic"

Trust me, it's planned so hard core the black hole feels it. We will win.

I gave up my only child. She was 4 years old. In 2008. I have a clone. And her spirit comes sometimes in it. And sometimes it's other ghosts.

People were wondering why I was crying the other day when I was driving. And I didn't want to say.

My daughter is in prison now. To keep her safe. You cannot imagine the intense fear I have every single day. And I don't even understand myself as for why.

I can see my daughter and she's safe and she's happy and laughing. But... She's a divine clone. My parents made her and the evil aliens took my real daughter.

They call her Sophia. She volunteered. Well. Voluntold. She said "someone needs to fix this! I was born on Martin Luther King's (Jr) birthday of his I have a dream speech and I have a dream too! For someone to fix this!!"

And my mom said from the dead, "I have a proposal"

Like I'm screaming and already bawling but u stop myself because she goes straight out of body and stands in front of my mom.

Its so beautiful. Then it is like a horrible Disney Fairytale curse.

"So i just want you to say yes and don't think about anything and don't think about your mom. She's hurt. Remember her back is broke? Now back to Martin Luther King. Yoh can make all dreams come true. You can be the Hero for the whole entire world because your dad is a mess and you can change this from oh 47 years to about 12 what do you think about that?"

"Yes!! I do! I want that! What do you think mom?"

And i could only stare at how beautiful mu child is. And I felt the horrific horror of how the Queen or fairy God mother puts the whole town to sleep for the curse and you know i began to bawl.

In our past lives. She wasnt the brave one. She was the first born. And she was always with me. Over protective like crazy. Someone was always watching just to make sure she breathed right and had all she needed immediately. Never went out. Always had 7 layers of guards between her and the outside world.

And my mom of all people was telling her to go free and go Just walk in the front door of evil to live.

I was proud. And joyful and in complete agony.

I had to do what was right.

God didn't send his only begotten son to die on the cross. That never haoend.

But a Goddess gave birth to a girl after having sex. And the aliens that attempted to kill her on a cross, named her Jesus and wrote a shameful book about her called the Bible. With nothing but lies. And that Jesus. The real Jesus. The Only Jesus. Sent her only daughter into the pits of Earths most Evil to destroy it with dreams.

So we will all suffer for two to four more years..

For that child to allow us to finish our work.

And no one will say the word reparations again. They will simply say "thank you, I am happy with the changes"

My mom promised me and my daughter.

Due to the True Annabelle parading around as Sophia (now in my prison and went swimming with a historical sibling that was born in a lifetime different than this in their shared hall cell) we are down to two to four years as opposed to 35.

So please quit fucking with Christopher Columbus.

The statues that are being taken down by states will be placed when it's safe to do so in places Christopher Columbus loved, if that is okay with every one else.

Robert E Lee as well. Tree has already publicly listed our blessed that we were so lucky to have that ARE heros for Earth.

Obviously not all white people are bad. But they used to be. Back then. Obviously I am 95% White according to 23 and me.

We had an emergency situation. So we changed the skin of all people not on the Africa continent to white. That os on the non American side. Later after invasions we changed all our good to brown.

This way. Because the invading aliens were so power full. So #1 is protect.

So Northern Europe was changed to white from Negro in order to blend in with the invaders. This way invaders in that,area,didn't know who to kill.

So,obviously invading in Ireland was red heads and white skin.

Sweden, yellow hair and white skin.

So we instantly did that.

Then because of information they would continue to invade that area, we kept them the aliens color.

So all of us except the negros are the color of aliens.

But the Zulululu kills and invades the body with their souls. So now African color folks have alien as well as every other color..

And that is why I'm fed the fuck up.

Im killing every fucking alien i don't agree with.. We did 12 years of intensive studies. In 1994 we jailed ass holes like Trump and more. And this is the end result.

THIS IS THE APOCALYPSE..

Y'all Jesus been here 35 years.. And i want to kill myself. This Earth. I just wanna blow it up and start all over. But I'm stubborn.

And I'm PISSED the fuck off.

And i have a child willing to risk her life until age 16.

Like the damdesr Princess in the world.

So every one will get the land they are owed.

African Americans. Remember VIKINGS.. Our babies, our brothers and sisters our elderly had their land stolen.

People in Africa. The Middle East.

I had to tear down a dam wall in the middle of Germany.

Okay?

I'm here and i hate it.

[jens-notes]

I'm living to 102. And then dying. Like the city of Detroit.

I'm living to 102. And then dying. Like the city of Detroit.

Things are improving.  I’ve never been dead, but I have been close.  If anything, i’m better than ever, which is funny because my ex thinks by trying to strip me of everything, stealing my children to please a psycho he married at random… that i’m laying dead somewhere unable to do anything.

I should hope by now that he understands that I am and always have been one step ahead of him.  I think he’s been trained to believe i’m completely stupid or something but he should know way better.  I have always been legal smart.  That is half the reason I have kept my mouth shut for 2 years.   Sometimes if I rant I say too much.  He’s done so much now that people are telling me I have to speak.  I mean, the stuff they’ve posted on Facebook and their antics at trying to hurt me or keep my kids from me for no reason are hilarious.  It’s clear the outside sees these two trainwrecks with my kids and sees how they behave and all they’ve done wrong and this won’t end well for them.

I get stalked so much by them and I pay no attention to them. I focus on my kids.  My friends focus too much on them and send me screenshots but I for the most part ignore it except when they’ve gone overboard on some posts.  Let me tell you, the posts they have made recently have been seen by law, psychiatrists, ph.d’s, and all have agreed that what they are doing to my children’s minds is awful.  “Mindfucking babies” to quote one doc.

On top of that, they are just really bad at lying.  So bad, it’s being tracked, planned out, and i’ve had Roselou Warren’s family come to me and tell me to get my children away from her.  I knew in 2017 this wicked Filipino woman who has self-image and fat issues (like everyone deals with except some of us don’t go psycho about it)… and in 2017 I had no problem with her when they first met.  One night of the many when he left my children home alone to drive 110 miles to visit her and didn’t return home for my kids… I called my ex and asked him where he was to get them, they had school.  Instead of him answering the phone, this fucked up girl answers the phone and confronts me out of nowhere and I could hear him leading her on in the background. Before this, I had no issues and was happy for him.  Matt and I had a civil relationship despite the fact that I should have had him killed for what went down to cause me to file for divorce.  He had helped me a lot.  However, since he met this woman and took my children away from me, filed court action to strip me of my custody and money, and tried to fake threats against her, both of them posting radical thoughts and accusations that I’m going to hurt these to weirdos, he has turned into a human, not even human, that has no conscious, evil, and well, to put it bluntly… the point I hope he fucking drops dead tomorrow from a stroke or heart attack or gets hit by a truck driven by a cow, thrown, and impaled with a fence post.  It took a lot to bring me to the point that I wish him ill will.

It’s not coming from me though.  It’s going to happen because it’s time for karma to come along and fuck him in the ass.  Just don’t let my kids be around him.  He already lost a court battle in the approx. amount of $8000 in May.  Not from my doing.  Now, they are just perjuring the Florida court system repeatedly.  I know what him and this messed up psycho are doing to throw me off their trail, and it’s not going to work.  I fell for their lies initially because I know my ex better than his own hand, and how he acts and behaves and I had to learn that this was not my ex’s mind running the show.  He is being controlled by this woman, who is way more screwed up than I ever was.  I never came close to the antics she does.  I’d outline my exact strategy here, but i’ve already won phase 1, and he’s not unemployed and poor so i’m going to go to phase 2.  Goal 1 is get my children in my life – which is what law is there for because I have the right to unlimited time with my kids legally.  Goal 2 though is to break him of his will and his bank account.  He can’t fight me when he’s poor.  Either he is in contempt of court, or he’s unemployed and can’t take care of my children.  Fact 1… he’s highly employable and never been without a job longer than 12 days in his life in the USA of 18 years.  He’s only ever lost a job once.  That was the 12 days wayyyy back in like 2006.

What is funny is they started a business first week of June or something called 907 Technology.  September 7, 2017 is when these two fuckups got married and is when they stole my kids from me.  Either way, the documentation provided to the courts in their mandatory disclosures was true, but it wasn’t everything. This will be their strategy. Throw me off, make me think he’s either unemployed or working for his old company. I do believe he got fired.  That’s been a long time coming.  He’s actually a shit hole employee that lies about his resume and lies about what he has done.  He’s just a plain old liar now.  His company’s page and about me at first listed all his former employers as his previous clients.  If that wasn’t funny enough, his IT security consulting business page had a stolen copyrighted image as their logo from a website that specialized in catching people stealing information security. Lol.  For someone as experienced, at least used to be, in coding and web security, was designed using blogger and a very pathetic user interface with Google. At least I do everything fairly genuine and i’m not nearly on paper as experienced.  I have 2 LLC’s and well, frankly, knowing the tax business, I know exactly what he is attempting to do to try and hide income.

He has filed to be of indigent status in Brevard County as of June, stating he is poor. However, at the same time they claimed to be buying a house, or having cars.  All I have to do is have that application challenged.  He is already in contempt of court in Lake County. That’s where I got a judgement of $8k.  This is all a dangerous smoke screen he is putting up that I think like everything else, borders with screwing with me and screwing with the justice system as well.  See he claimed he lost his job in the beginning of June 2018.  Well going from 10K a month in income to $300 a week in unemployment just won’t pay his bills.  He would be so miserable and so far gone and lost everything that just knowing this, I can tell you he’s not unemployed, nor is he actually earning money with a business at this moment here at the end of July 2018.  He was paycheck to paycheck. But he is highly employable nonetheless, resume lies or not.  He’s totally fucked in the mind and stupider than shit, but he knows how to get and hold onto a job.  He’s also desperate.

So desperate for love he found this woman, and both of them were sooo desperate they clinged to each other immediately.  She is young and has no kids, ugly as fuck — more ugly than my fattest ugliest moments, and he’s old and fearful of dying alone.  Old for him is whatever like 45.  He’s so desperate for this love that he’s doing whatever it takes and is by everyone’s account (not mine until more recently) gone off his rocker with the crazies.  His appearance at our May court date was disgusting.  But, like the smoke screen they are putting up, I believe it was planned.  My ex has never seen a scruffy face except once in our marriage many many years ago, where I wanted to see what he looked like with a goatee.  That lasted like a week.  He’s anal about shaving and he showed up to court this one time looking like a homeless unemployed man and not even dressed up hoping that the judge will be tricked into thinking he is just as his appearance was.

When he lost the case, I got images sent to me by my facebook friends showing their crazy posts, which I’m going to share soon, that say, “no matter what, we are so happy, and she will never find love like ours and we always win no matter what just because of that” – not to quote but in the jist of it along with pictures of them eating at a foreign food restaurant crossing their hands with new wedding bands they just bought that day or prior.  It’s like they think i’m watching them so they go out of their way to make sure they say the stupidest shit nobody actually believes.

When her family contacted me after that, it was made known that she is shaming them.  They never cared until she moved close they said. But now her actions are shaming them. They encouraged me to tell my lawyer this… tell my lawyer that, make sure I show him this and that…. etc.  If her family thinks she’s a fucked up crazy and by family, I mean her brother… then in reality it’s way worse because as a 34 year old adult you aren’t showing your family the full picture. They see a sliver of the picture, and it’s bad. The full damage and omg it drives me insane.

Ok well — yeah already spoke too much.  My next actions will be to file a couple of motions now that I fired my lawyer for taking too long.  I was my own lawyer for the last 3 years and got shit done, I hire a lawyer because i’m going through a period of “regaining my strength” and the douchetool spends all of his time on vacation.

I’ll go back to being me. Legally smart and a mother devoted to her children.

Posted by: Jen

Filed under: Beyond 2018, Brevard County, Fighting Rights, General, Matt, The Ex Files