#yes she grew up in poverty with less food
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universe-of-peoples · 7 months ago
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I will always be a Liz defender for what happened in last nights episode. Everyone’s out here attacking her for acting entitled, but have YOU ever not eaten for 18+ days before? Do you know what that does to your brain? That’s over 2 weeks with no food! None of the contestants are working at their highest brainpower in this game, but none of them are on her level right now. The fuck are you talking about “entitlement”. Have a little compassion. Girl hit an emotional breaking point at a completely understandable point.
No person would act like she did under normal circumstances, but she is NOT! UNDER! NORMAL CIRCUMSTANCES! Girl was already nearing her breaking point, and then they threw her the emotional curveball of designing the perfect reward for her. Anyone in her shoes would be upset under normal circumstances, and under her very ABNORMAL circumstances, her reaction was 100% justified.
Smh “entitlement”. At least TRY to have some semblance of empathy y’all.
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a-roguish-gambit · 4 months ago
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Behold, the Brotherhood of Mutants for my turn of the century au!
You can tell I had the most fun with pietro and wanda’s designs. They are based more on upperclass wear of the time. Sadly, there was no punk going on, but you can see that in rebellion Wanda has bobbed her hair, which was incredibly controversial before the year 1920.
I based the outfits of the brotherhood boys on some different working class designs. Lance has some factory gear to help protect him from his own power. You have probably noticed that they don’t really have super suits or armor at this point in time that’s because a lot of it has not been invented yet or is almost exclusively used by military. Spandex will not be a thing for a couple more decades, and most non natural fibers right now are dangerously flammable, so they are mostly wearing clothing that suits them rather than super suits. also, you will notice that yes some of the characters have visible injuries, especially todd. They grew up in the 1900s which was an especially difficult time to be an orphaned child. This is part why they all end up being willing to stay with mystique and Irene, who have set up a “shelter for wayward boys” which in actuality is a way for them to train children for magneto (will design him later having trouble figuring out how to incorporate his helmet lol). It’s free room and board with food so they don’t have to worry about any exploitative jobs at this point in time. And all they have to do is go on missions for her which is somehow significantly safer than an up to code factory floor. being former Street kids, or in Fred’s case, a former sideshow act, they have already been a bit embittered to the world, especially to the X-Men kids who they see as highly privileged, even though several of them came from similar backgrounds of poverty, struggle, and familial loss, someone was just willing to reach out a hand to them before mystique.
Both Irene and mystique are faking being widows, living together in part of a way to claim the estate as their own, but also as an excuse to hide their relationship. The brotherhood kids could honestly care less about this thankfully because they’re loyal if you feed them, and they’ll never leave because well they need the food…mystique is not sure if that last part is good or not but its comforting to know their secret is safe with these kids. Shes still not a great caretaker for them but at least they have a roof over their head, fresh clothing, and 3 square meals a day, which is more than what they had.
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skyrim-forever · 2 months ago
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Bold the Facts OC Game
Was going through my oc: theodora tag and noticed a lot has changed since I did this back September 2023 so I thought I'd redo it as Theo's story is much more fleshed out.
$ Financial: wealthy / moderate / poor / in poverty ✚ Medical: fit / moderate / sickly / disabled / disadvantaged / non-applicable ✪ Class/Caste: upper / middle / working / unsure / other ✔ Education: qualified / unqualified / studying / other ✖ Criminal Record: yes, for major crimes / yes, for minor crimes / no / has committed crimes, but not caught yet / yes, but charges were dismissed
✧˖°. FAMILY
◒ Children: had a child or children (more or less) / has no children / wants children ◑ Relationship with Family: close with sibling(s) / not close with sibling(s) / has no siblings / sibling(s) is deceased ◔ Affiliation: orphaned / abandoned / adopted / found family / disowned / raised by birth parent(s) / not applicable
✧˖°. TRAITS + TENDENCIES
♦ extroverted / introverted / in-between ♦ disorganized / organized / in-between ♦ close-minded / open-minded / in-between ♦ calm / anxious / in-between / highly contextual ♦ disagreeable / agreeable / in-between ♦ cautious / reckless / in-between / highly contextual ♦ patient / impatient / in-between ♦ outspoken / reserved / in-between / highly contextual ♦ leader / follower / in-between ♦ empathetic / vicious bastard / in-between / highly contextual ♦ optimistic / pessimistic / in-between ♦ traditional / modern / in-between ♦ hard-working / lazy / in-between ♦ cultured / uncultured / in-between / unknown ♦ loyal / disloyal / unknown / highly contextual ♦ faithful / unfaithful / unknown / highly contextual
✧˖°. BELIEFS
★ Faith: monotheist / polytheist / atheist / agnostic (none fit, she knows many Gods exist but grew up not worshipping and only starts praying to Akatosh later in life) ☆ Belief in Ghosts or Spirits: yes / no / don't know / don’t care / in a matter of speaking ✮ Belief in an Afterlife: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking ✯ Belief in Reincarnation: yes / no / don’t know / don’t care / in a manner of speaking ❃ Belief in Aliens: yes / no / don’t know / don't care ✧ Religious: orthodox / liberal / in between / not religious ❀ Philosophical: yes / no / highly contextual
✧˖°. SEXUALITY & ROMANTIC INCLINATION
❤ Sexuality: heterosexual / homosexual / bisexual / asexual / pansexual ❥ Sex: sex-repulsed / sex neutral / sex favorable / naive and clueless ♥ Romance: romance repulsed / romance neutral / romance favorable / naive and clueless / romance suspicious ❣ Sexually: adventurous / experienced / naive / inexperienced / curious ⚧ Potential Sexual Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all ⚧ Potential Romantic Partners: male / female / agender / other / none / all
✧˖°. ABILITIES
☠ Combat Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ≡ Literacy Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✍ Artistic Skills: excellent / good / moderate / poor / none ✂ Technical Skills: excellent /good / moderate / poor / none
✧˖°. HABITS
☕ Drinking Alcohol: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / alcoholic / former borderline alcoholic turned sober ☁ Smoking: tried it / trying to quit / quit / never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / chain-smoker ✿ Recreational Drugs: tried some / never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / addict ✌ Medicinal Drugs: never / no longer needs medication / some medication needed / frequently / to excess (none fit, more on a case by case basis, no chronic illnesses/injuries requiring daily meds) ☻ Unhealthy Food: never / special occasions / sometimes / frequently / binge eater $ Splurge Spending: never / sometimes / frequently / shopaholic ♣ Gambling: never / rarely / sometimes / frequently / compulsive gamble
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mouse-heals · 21 days ago
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Something I noticed when I binged yesterday is that, ironically, having little money also triggers an insane urge to binge, or rather, to stock up on food. My mind is constantly on how much money I have, how much I can spend that day, and I always end up buying an unnecessary amount of food, thinking I want to save it for a while - and then I end up binging on it anyway. And I get stuck in that cycle.
I'm not sure where exactly this comes from. I guess growing up poor and going hungry often did that to me, in combination with snacks and treats being something "forbidden". My mom was too sick to cook, too sick to leave the house to go shopping. I grew up in an ingredient only household after my grandma died, and being 8 years old and not allowed to be in the kitchen, I had no idea how to make food for myself. So whenever she got food delivered to our apartment, it was this huge thing to have access to something to eat. And I always ended up searching and stealing snacks and the like whenever she was asleep, because I was hungry. I saved all the money I ever found on the street or got from other people in my grandma's old closet, because I knew my mom wouldn't check there and I would be able to buy ice cream with it once I had enough.
I've always survived with less than the minimum of an income ever since I was kicked out. For the first few years, I lived with a broken fridge and no heating, because I couldn't afford to get anything new. Almost all my clothes are hand-me-downs from someone else that I still wear after 10 years. Besides my kitchen, every single piece of furniture in my apartment is second hand, yes that includes my microwave and my washing machine. I've always held a certain jealousy for people who had their parents pay for their driver's license, or buy them expensive clothes, shoes and bags. I wish I could have saved my first job money, because the very moment I made my first money, my parents told me to pay them rent. It's insane to me that the average person spends about 100 bucks a month on clothes.
I never really left poverty imo. I never had to NOT worry about going hungry. Deciding between cat food and tampons is a real shitty decision, but not an uncommon one. So whenever I have ANY access to money, I get an overwhelming desire to spend it and "treat myself" instead of doing the smart thing and saving it.
I think I need to learn how to save money, too.
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xxoxobree · 1 year ago
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Okay, first of all, I want to say that I'm not going to be aggressive about the opinions and headcanons of others in any way, nor am I going to forbid you to support someone's opinion, but I just want to explain where this kind of opinion came from, what might be true with it, what some fans and the authors of the film wanted to convey, and what you, as the author, might not have understood about it.
Okay 🙃
And, secondly, I will be incredibly happy if my child Miles G. has the opportunity to eat 100% healthy and nutritious food, but I also have to look at the official information and why the above information may be true, yes, but only partially.
I never said anything about healthy and nutritious food cause that food is expensive. That doesn’t mean he’s not eating and he’s starving throughout the day.
So, we know unacceptably little about Miles G., and even what we do know was literally plucked with all our efforts from art books, spontaneous phrases of directors, test animations and concept art. So, all I'm saying is that this is more of an assumption based on analyzes and words of people close to the production of the film, rather than a one hundred percent fact.
Yupp!
But one of the things that we know with a 99% probability is the bad financial situation of the Morales family on Earth 42. There were many hints of this in the movie, both verbal and/or clearly shown (look at how Aaron still brings the Morales family money even though Rio works incredibly hard, and how she says she'll take extra shifts to "pay" Aaron back, to the point where he literally has to coax her with the words "we're family") and visually less noticeable details. The older and dusty furniture in the 42 Miles' room, the exterior style of black oiled, sloppy lines, the way 42Rio doesn't have (or no longer wears) any earrings or other gold jewelry, while 1610 Rio wears it almost always, even at work.
We don’t know nothing, Rio could be making enough money to support her and Miles they could be making ends meet and if you really from the struggle yk what I mean. Jeff is dead, Aaron could just be looking out for Miles and Rio by giving them money just to give it to them🤷🏽‍♀️ save it for a rainy day. If Miles wants or needs something she can use the money ect. Taking up extra shift to pay him back doesn’t mean she’s not able to financially take care of her and her child, she could be making enough to do that but not enough to do that and pay back Aaron. He could have older furniture blah blah doesn’t mean they’re food insecure. They’re in a rougher world Why would Rio wear jewelry to get it snatched or robbed ? 👀 y’all don’t be knowing nothing bout the hood fr like I said, y’all are very suburban.
If what the film says isn't enough for you, you can see other official sources saying the same thing, such as this interview with one of the directors, which I recommend to watch for anyone interested in the character of Miles G., wherehe says directly that we "can think of him (Miles G.) as our Miles, who grew up without a father in the crack era in poverty" (paraphrased)
Living in Poverty doesn’t mean you’re starving and you have a food insecurity. (what my whole argument is about btw not about them not being as financially strong as 1610.) they’re just not able to afford some where else to live. You’re validating my point that y’all know nothing about lower income areas and think everyone there is starving and dirt poor. In a clip we also see that Miles G attends Brooklyn Visions too where he is through the week they’re not letting his starve there 👀 and that really should be the end of the argument.
Usually, it was a bit different: more about the difference in eating habits, compared to 1610 Miles and the amount of food, not the complete lack of it.
Bringing up the amount of food is the same thing, y’all are saying he doesn’t eat enough cause of the “finances and his living situation.”
And if this post had been about complete famine, I wouldn't be writing all this now, I absolutely agree, it's an exaggeration. But are you actually saying that a child from a poor family and a child from a normal good (in a money terms) family (e.g. 1610 Miles) eat exactly the same?
I’m not saying that they eat the exact same but that doesn’t mean that he’s not getting enough food to where he’s hungry or if his stomach growls he’s not able to find something. 1610’s dinner could be a 5$ burger and 42’s could be a $2 tuna sandwich it’s different food with different prices but they’re fed 🤷🏽‍♀️. And that’s my whole argument HES FED‼️ HES NOT STARVING.
"Rio wouldn't let Miles starve" Yeah? (Just like she would never let Miles grow a toxic boyfriend as some people write in fanfiction here, lol) But didn't you say above about any food issues? Just like some of the commenters below this post. I'm sure both Aaron and Rio are trying very hard to give 42 Miles everything they can, but there's a difference between "letting him starve" as you saying and "they both eat less than they need or would like because of money problems and are doing everything they can to fix it", which is what I personally and most people whose headcanons I've seen prefer.
Rio could be the best parent in the world to Miles and teach him good he’s still an individual and can make his own decisions so that’s irrelevant in this case 🙃🙃. Again living in a lower income areas or having less money than others doesn’t mean you’re hungry or eating less. Slaves were literally given scraps and made the best meals. Y’all be watching too much tv like I said.
"Aaron helps them". Again, if you take it out of context, it's absolutely correct, because that's what we saw in the movie - Aaron brings Rio a small but still a wad of money. But here again, you forget how little information we have: We don't know how often Aaron is able to bring money to Rio, or how often she is willing to accept it (because, again, she clearly didn't want to accept it as a gift in that scene and promised to return it, which suggests that she is a little uncomfortable and ashamed to take money from her son's uncle), we don't know how much money and in what denominations was in that wad, where Aaron is getting the money from, and when exactly did the 42 Moralese family start having money problems to start doing this.
Rio not having a lot of money doesn’t equal to Her and Miles not having enough to eat 🙃. Aaron giving Rio money doesn’t mean she’s not able to handle her bills ect. Them living in a lower income area doesn’t mean they don’t have what they need.
If you want to hear my opinion on the latter (because everything else is just a blank letter without an answer and this is not the post where I will poke blind guesses) - I think it did not start immediately after Jefferson's death. Rather, it began to slowly and imperceptibly slip away as the villains began to take over the city and people's salary decreased. That's why Miles has the fancy stuff, that's why they're having such a hard time with all this, and that may also be the reason why he has these Nikes you're talking about - once upon a time, once upon a time, they had the money for it, just like the 1610 Morales family.
Or as hood people do they saved for it 🤷🏽‍♀️ and that’s how he got his shoes a gift from his mom she had extra money.
"He has Nikes" Reason. Give me a reason, justify it, tell me your theories, I'm begging you. There are so many options as to where he got them from. Maybe (look at the previous text) they bought them before the situation started to deteriorate, maybe it was an early birthday present from an uncle, for example. There is even a chance that they are not original (okay, a small but also an option) or stolen (although I do not like this one). Or maybe it's just an easter egg on their similarity from designers, which does not have such a basis behind it, who knows.
Why would Miles have brand new fucking Nikes on his feet if they’re starving? Why would Aaron buy Miles some expensive ass shoes if they’re hungry ? They live in a rough neighborhood, ain’t no one giving out Nikes , he ain’t find them no where. They could be a gift like I said or maybe they’re from before his dad died that can be true.
So, Miles G is not starving. But does he get less food than he should? Very possible. He doesn't just look "skinnier than our Miles" or anything, He looks skinnier than any teenager his age should look. Aren't some people here shouting about his "small waist" completely forgetting that the child is 15, and then completely not thinking about the reason for that?
Miles being skinny is a character design 1610 is also very thin despite “living better” and the spider bite. Being skinny doesn’t mean he’s not getting enough to eat. I’m skinny and I eat I’m not starving.
didn't talk about the argument about racism, because I don't have a special right to do so. I have no connection to culture, norms, and even my skin color does not allow me to speak on this topic. I'll just say that I haven't watched any series or movie similar to the ones you described, and I also didn't relate to the color of the character's skin in my text in any way. But if there is someone who can and has the right to advise me on this topic and point out exactly where I am wrong - you're welcome, I'll be very glad.
If you cannot speak to the racism and whatever else I said why would you reblog my post and speak on it. The argument that the idea Miles is starving and not getting enough to eat is RACISM‼️‼️ PERIOD POINT BLANK‼️ it’s racist asf and it’s a stereotype that black people are lesser than and cannot provide for themselves especially in America where black people have been oppressed for so long and have a hard time climbing up the ladder to do better for themselves because of what??? RACISM!!!!! YALL ARE SAYING THAT MILES AND RIO DONT HAVE ENOUGH TO EAT BECAUSE OF THEIR LIVING SITUATION AND THAT IS RACIST!!!! Stop watching fucking tv and be fr. I can speak on shit and see it for what it is cause I’m BLACK AND IM FROM THE HOOD AND IK PEOPLE IN THE HOOD. Everyone in lower income areas are not starving .
Another opinion cause I’m tired of seeing it.
WTF! Are y’all talking bout Miles G starves and doesn’t get enough food 👀 not being very wealthy and living in the hood doesn’t equal food insecurity. Rio would NEVER! Aaron would NEVER!! Let Miles starve. Rio literally gave Miles/Aaron a grocery list 😑. I’m tired of seeing that shit 🙄🙄. Miles literally has fucking Nikes on his feet and he’s starving ? Oh okay!
Update: it be you bitches who never stepped foot in an urban area in your life, who only know what tv & movies brainwashes y’all to believe about BLACK‼️‼️ people and lower income areas. Suburban racist ass yt people
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mymainwastoocluttered · 2 years ago
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Hiii,,, IDK IF I CAN REQ AGAIN SINCE I ALREADY DID
But can I request a reader that's mostly stand offish and doesn't really talk to anyone except ruggie? And they like to spoil him alot and give him gifts JSJCCJKS
Hello, hello! Yes, yes you can~ Glad to see you again!
He's The One (Ruggie)
NOTE: I only write for female reader but everyone is welcome to read it!
Ruggie's family is referred to as a clan, because hyena.
— (~‾▿‾)~
Even more suspicious than the saccharine tones of people like Azul is the silence of people like you
So you can bet it will take Ruggie a bit to warm up to you
It helps when he notices that you're even more silent and standoffish with others than him
Ruggie grew up having to share everything with his clan, he can be very selfish from time to time, and will hog you if you allow him to
Which you do, opening up to him once he finally accepts your attention and smothering him with a side of yourself he's the only witness of
Ruggie loves hearing you talk, and will gladly hold your hand and lean as close to you as he can so you can keep your voice low enough that he's probably the only one hearing it
He puffs out his chest every time you give someone a silent answer, or a very short one, before turning to him and talking about this and that with that little smile he's come to love
You're too good and no good for his pride
Spoiling him is another thing you do that gets him very happy
At first, he's all for it because, hey, free stuff. But it gradually turns into just loving being spoilt by you
You take extra care to remember what he likes or needs, be it food or routine objects. Your gifts tend to be the useful type, which he appreciates because as someone raised in poverty, Ruggie doesn't see the point in accumulating random trinkets
Unless you guys go on a date and buy something there, then it counts as memory holders and he wants them all. Please also take a bunch of pictures, Ruggie loves to look at them with you and remember your moments together
You're always in his mind
Physical affection? Physical affection. Hug him, kiss him, hold his hand, play with his ears, brush his hair, massage him, oh please massage him. He will melt, almost literally
PDA? Absolutely does not care. People don't want to see then maybe people should look away. He does prefer to leave heavier stuff, like making out, for when you're alone, but that's because he wants all your noises and faces to be his and his alone
Otherwise, go crazy, show everyone that you can be the warmest person ever, and you chose to be so with Ruggie fuckin Bucchi
And of course, Ruggie will return your affection tenfold. From sharing food to helping you around to taking less jobs so he can have at least an hour or two every day with you, Ruggie will do it all
1000/10 best hyena boy, hold him gently and spoil him lots
— (~‾▿‾)~
Ruggie laughs lowly under his breath, tail lazily wagging, as he watches his girlfriend pout cutely. This face is all his, no one has ever seen it or will see it, he'll make sure of that. To everyone else, she's the distant but polite Ramshackle Housewarden, but with him, she's a cuddly little angel.
He can't resist kissing the pout away, still giggling while she kisses back, smile returning to her face when they separate. Her warm hands in his, his gloves discarded somewhere behind him, the soft grass of the botanical garden luring them to relax.
"Our child is not gonna be named Donut, Ruggie, and that's final"
"Aw, but that's such a delicious name~"
"No!"
He laughs a little louder when she pretends to kick him and hit his chest with their intertwined hands. Her eyes shine with a thousand stars and her smile makes the flowers around them hide in shame.
"But donuts make me happy, and our Clan makes me happy, it's the perfect name~ Shishishishishi~"
"Fine, I will call our other child Leona because he makes me happy when he gives you the day off!"
"Don't you dare!"
They wrestle for a minute, ultimately ending where they began, now a bit more disheveled and a bit more happy.
A bit more in love.
_
Bonus
"Don't involve me in your business"
"You should be in class, Leona!"
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dilfartist · 2 years ago
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Mine, and mine alone
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Pairing; Corpse bride Jolyne x reader
TW; death, cheating, forced marriages, yandere themes, homophobia mentioned, religion mentioned, age gap mentioned, NSFW mentioned a couple of times.
Word count: 4.5K
A/n; So sorry this took me a long time! I was hoping all the requests would be finished during Halloween, but I procrastinated and wanted at least on fic to be released in October. So sorry in advance if it seems rushed
You never understood why playing chess was such a complicated task for you. 
The black queen is raised aloft off the chessboard. Your eyes skim the chessboard, searching for its rightful place to claim your win against your opponent. Your opponent -also known as the head butler of the estate- Richard, observed quietly, eyes following your hand that clasped the chest piece. A sensation of frustration grows by the minute, the sound of the fire crackling from the fire pit overwhelming you, interrupting your concentration. 
Richard shakes his head, chuckling. “Chess is a game of skill; the game isn't for everyone, Mrs.L/n,” Richard says, his thin lips forming into a soft smile. 
Richard shifts in his chair, extending his arm to reach for his teacup. “Chess is a game of skill.” Richard reminds you, just as he did a million times before you decided to play. “the game isn't for everyone, Mrs.L/n.” 
“Yes, I know, but what less is there to do?” you whine. “I've already read all the interesting books in the library. There isn't much for me to do outside. And my soon-to-be husband is rarely home. I want nothing more than to go back to my hometown. I now despise the luxuries you once prayed to have.” 
Not too long ago, you lived in a small town near a giant forest. You lived in poverty all your life; your parents struggled to keep food on the table or even a roof over your head. You remember wishing on many stars, praying to whoever listened to grant you the wish to live in riches, and not worrying about how your parents would pay the overdue rent. A life where you could relax. However, if obtaining your wish meant you’d have to be married to a selfish man, then you’d happily throw away your dreams. 
(You recall the event vividly; Resting your head against the carriage window, you watched as the autumn-colored trees grew in number. The words ‘wouldn't take long’ were nothing but a lie; it felt like an eternity since you’d left the city. You're growing tired of sitting in one spot. Growing tired of the many bumps on the route, the coachmen decided to use. Weary of taking naps, hoping to pass the time. 
A fuzzy sensation in your warning you that the next nap will cost you a headache. 
Your eyes glance at your mother, sitting across from you. She quietly reads a novel she brought along. You, yourself, would have taken something on the ride if it weren't for the fact your mother rushed you into the carriage with no explanation. 
Then again, you should have known what she was up to when you saw her with one of the only gowns she owns, telling you to dress in one of the fanciest dresses she’d purchased you the week prior; A seafoam green gown accompanied by a pair of long white gloves. Your lips form into a deep grimace. You look back to the window. 
You’ve always dreamed of a life of luxury. Growing up struggling, all you could do was fantasize about the day you would live in riches, not having to worry about how your parents would pay the overdue rent. A life where you could relax. 
However, if obtaining your wish meant you’d have to be married to a selfish man, then you’d happily throw away your dreams.
You hear paper folding, then a loud sigh fleeing your mother. “Stop with the grumpy face, Y/n. You know this is for the family. You know doing this will lead us all to a better life.” She chastised in a mumble, sending you a glare. 
You shift in your seat, looking down at your hands. “Why does it have to be me?” you started. “Why can't you marry the old man?” 
Your mother clicks her tongue, ��how many times do I have to tell you he is attracted to younger women? I'm far too old for him.” 
Your head snaps in your mother’s direction, hands bawling. “I can't believe you're doing this, mom! You don't even care about my feelings. You’re just selling me off to some pervert. And for what? A couple of thousand? Do I not matter to you?” you’re nearly in tears, breathing unsteadily, biting your lower lip to keep yourself from cursing.
Your mother snaps her fingers at you, “Don't raise your voice at me! Don't forget who you’re talking to!” you turn your head back to the window. “We need the money, Y/n. I don't want to do this either, but we have no choice.” 
You slumped back in your seat: starting an Altercation would get you nowhere. Your mother’s mind never changes. 
Placing her novel to the side, Your mother uncrosses her legs, inching closer to you. She takes your hands into her, starting deep into your eyes. Your eyes meet with your mother’s pity-filled orbs. “I promise, once we have all the money needed, we will come to get you.” 
You close your eyes, feeling your body shaking against your mother’s motionlessly still hands. You can't find your voice, so you nod your head. You pray silently to any god listening for her to keep her promise. She leans back, returning to her novel.
The rest of the carriage ride was silent, no one uttering anything. You proceeded with staring out the window while your mother continued reading. 
You notice the change in the panorama outside of the window. The trees lessened in number until there were none in sight. A vast sybaritic manor appeared, an enormous river beside it, no plant life besides grass
The carriage slows, then comes to a cessation. The carriage door on the right side squeaks open, and an emaciated man stands holding it open, greeting you with a welcoming smile. “Mrs. L/n, we have arrived to master Beckwith's manor.” The butler assists you both out of the carriage to the entrance of the manor. 
You step out onto the stoned road, placing on your white sun hat to protect your eyes from the blinding sun. It hasn't even been five minutes, yet your skin is trickling with sweat. “Geez, it's hot out here!” The butler chuckles slightly, “Well, that's the Florida heat for you. You’re going to have to get used to it out here. Especially during the night.” 
The front doors of the manor push open, and a middle-aged man walks out. The man models a fancy white suit with slicked-back brunette-colored hair with strands of grey in the front of his hairline. “Ah, Mrs. L/n. Sorry if I've kept you ladies waiting. I had some unexpected business to attend to,” he announces with a husky southern accent. 
The man approaches your mother first, greeting her with a kiss on each cheek, then he turns his attention to you, a smile stretching on his face revealing a yellow-crooked smile. “And you are supposed to be my bride-to-be? You’re more beautiful in person!” his callused hand grabs yours, raising the back of your hand to his lips, and he places a gentle kiss. “I will cherish you forever, my dear.”)
Living with John wasn't the nightmare you had expected it to be. In the mornings, you awake in a lonely bed. John usually awakes at the crack of dawn to ride into town for business purposes. The servants serve you a decent breakfast, giving you thirty minutes to eat, then it's off to training. 
John hired a woman named Gwendolyn to teach you the etiquette of a rich wife. Gwendolyn belonged to the Jones family; a wealthy family John worked along. Gwendolyn grew up taught what a woman was expected to do as a wife, and so she coveted you for being engaged to John. 
She made this fact clear as day by torturing you each session. Gwendolyn told John lies about you, she hit you multiple times with her ruler declaring you were intentionally messing up, and she announced to a room of John’s coworkers that you’d never become the wife John needed. 
Not only was she ruining your life, but she was also screwing your husband behind your back. You bet they were at it this very moment. It infuriated you. If John was committed to a young woman, why have an affair with a woman in her late twenties? 
You theorized, John only engaged with you because others thought highly of him. Gwendolyn was considered hideous to many people and John Not wanting to be a laughing stock, John selected you to be his bride. Though you had no feelings for John, your feelings were hurt. 
You slump back into your armchair, a grimace tugging on your lips. Leaning against the rose gold armchair, a huff of frustration escapes you. “Do you have anything, at all, that would entertain me?” 
Richard thought for a moment, a hand stroking his chin. Richards's eyes widen in what seemed to be a realization, “I've worked in this mansion for many years; perhaps, I have a story or two that might satisfy your boredom.” 
“Really?” you ask.
A cheeky smile blossoms on Richards's face, his excitement akin to a child on Christmas morning. Richard jubilantly rises from his chair, striding towards a dusty bookcase; His fingertip drags down the side of the bookcase until it finally halts at the letters J - M. Richard grabs, from what you can make out to be, a jewelry box. Richard inhales before blowing harshly on the jewelry box, blowing away all the dust. “There we go,” Richard mumbles, slowly approaching you. 
Richard sets the box in front of you; Richard shows off a ring of keys, holding a single tiny key, “If this story piques your interest, then I'll gladly tell you the story.” You share a look for a moment. Instinctively, your arm reaches for the key. 
Your eyes travel to the golden plate on top of the lock. Engraved on the golden plate is the name Jolyne Cujoh, written in cursive. Inserting the key, you unhurriedly twist it. The box unlocks ajar with a click. A breathtaking melody fades in as a butterfly a mixture of green and blue, twirls in the center of the box. 
In one of the cubbies, you grab a folded paper. Unfolding the paper, it showed a crinkled photograph of a gorgeous woman. You felt your cheeks flush drinking up her features. The woman, Jolyne, had a muscular physique, which you could only describe as a slim to athletic build. She wore her hair quite differently than most women; two sections of her hair were two different colors, the dark section of her hair in buns while the lighter part was braided or framed her face. The picture was a faded brown color, leading you to create your image of the real Jolyne. 
“What happened to her?” 
Richard lets out a long sigh, sauntering over to the chair across from yours. “She was a lovely woman, to say the least. You would have been the best of friends.” Richard smiles sadly. You felt your lips drop into a frown, “I see..” you spoke softly, “what happened to her. Is she dead?” 
Richard nods, picking up his teacup and blowing the heat. “I'm afraid so.“ 
Richard sips his tea then places it back on the table and proceeds with his story. “The Jisso family used to own this manor. They lived here for forty years till they decided to hand the property over to their son Romeo Jisso. Not much after Mr. Jisso met Mrs. Cujoh. She was like a love-sick puppy, following around everywhere, obeying his every command, looking for his praise. She truly was in love with him. Mr. Jisso proposed to her, a Dimond ring and all. Of course, she was over the moon and agreed almost instantly. There was no convincing that girl out of the relationship, for her fate was sealed. During the middle of the wedding, police came in unannounced and declared Jolyne was a murderer. Jolyne was innocent, yet her husband told the police otherwise.” 
Richards's eyebrows furrowed, the corners of his mouth tugging down to create a scowl. “Matter of fact, I watched Mr.Romeo murder the man in cold blood. Being the coward he was I wasn't surprised he accused someone else. Yet, I hadn't expected him to blame Jolyne. She died that night. They didn't even try to hear her side of the story, nor did they care to find evidence to prove her guilty.” 
“That bastard got what he had coming,” Richard said in a hushed-irate tone. You could barely hear him, even in a silent room.
“What happened to him.” 
“They found him dead with his tongue cut off. At first, I thought Mr.Jisso committed suicide. However, I knew one thing about Mr. Jisso; he was a coward. He’d never take his own life. It leads me to believe Jolyne-somehow some way- killed Mr.Jisso. There is no evidence to support my theory. It's merely a gut feeling. And in a way, I'm happy she had her revenge in the end.” 
The room fell mute, your eyes never leaving Richard’s. Richard’s lips upturned into his recognizable kind smile, “Here, I'm sure you’d love to explore her personal garden; wouldn't you?” Richard reached into his pants pocket, digging out what you assume to be the key.  
A fist enters your vision. Your eyes flicker from Richard to his closed fist. Your hands' cup together, moving underneath Richard’s; He gently places the frigid-metal key in your hand. 
Examining the key, you noticed the same blue and green butterfly from the jewelry box imprinted on the head of the key. 
Richard stands from his chair, gathering all the dirty dishes on the table. “Jolyne’s garden is located on the top of the hill behind the manor. Might take a while climbing up the giant hill, but I assure you it's worth your while.” Richard exits the room, leaving you to your thoughts. 
The conversation lingered in your mind the next day, interrupting many of your lessons with Gwendolyn. Much to her dismay. 
You mulled over exploring the garden or not. On one hand, you could do more than just sit around in the manor wasting the day away. On the other hand, you weren't too kind about the idea of exploring a dead woman's garden, especially since she was said to be behind the murder of her late husband. 
You sat in the library part of the manor, surrounded by dusty-ancient books. You stare off into the distance, staring at the hummingbirds outside the window, Instinctively
bouncing your left leg. You let out a bored huff. There truly wasn't anything for you to do. 
You know what, Fuck it. Nothing is more interesting than exploring a dead woman's past. 
You rushed out of the library, dashing up the stairs. Once you retrieved the key from your room, you placed on a light coat and grabbed a satchel hidden behind a rack of clothes in the closet beside the door. You left the manor, ignoring all of the maid's questions. 
You followed the path up the hill, walking at a brisk pace. The garden peeks from the edge of the hill, reflecting the sunlight off the glass walls. You finally reach the peak of the hill. The garden is coated in thick grime, covered in overlapping vines, and tangled over one another. No one has been here for a long time. 
Your fingers clasp the key in your bag. You insert the key inside the keyhole—the lock clicks. The door opens with a whine. The Interior of the garden is a dingy room surrounded by dead plants, wilted petals encircling the dead stems. A series of coughs discharge from your lips, the overwhelming smell of the plants too much for you. One particular thing you glimpsed in the corner caught your full attention; a rabble of blue butterflies with green tips on their wings. “Not every day you see that,” you mumble, passing into the garden.
Eyes skimming the room, you managed to more gain information about Jolyne’s character. 
She enjoyed the same music artist as you, a mound of records set next to an untouched record player. She enjoyed the romance genre in writing. She spent most of her time hanging out with two women, whom she titled her best friends. 
Deciding you had seen enough, turned to leave. However, your eyes caught sight of a book on the table beside the door. You approach the table, grabbing the book. You open the book and hold a chunk of pages, then let the pages slowly flutter by. It’s a Diary. Holding a deep interest in the diary, you pocket it, putting the diary in your satchel. 
The diary was quite the entertainment you were searching for, to spare your lethargy. 
Every entry she wrote was engaging- no, more like fun. You felt like you were having fun while reading. Jolyne somehow knew your humor, each page making you laugh to the point of tears pricking your eyes. 
Jolyne mainly wrote in dairy about her engagement, friends, and relationship with her father; and a massive amount of smutty thoughts. 
The next day, you revisited Jolyne's garden bringing along cleaning supplies. You groan slightly at the mess, eyes glancing back to the manor, considering possibly having one or two of the maids aid you in tidying up the place. "No, they already have too much on their plate. They'd hate me for assigning work they wouldn't be paid for." You chided yourself. 
In two hours, the garden looked untouched. Well, almost. Much to your surprise, the butterflies never left their spot. Adding a pleasing aesthetic to the room, you let them be. 
A Month passed by and you found yourself gaining an extreme liking to Jolyne. Not like a liking you'd have to a desert that you recently fancied and craved more of, no. The type of liking your lady friends describe when liking a man. 
No! A woman in love with another, that's a sin! You'd never love Jolyne, romantically. Or that's what you reminded yourself. 
If you were honest, even you knew your words were nothing but lies. You couldn't care anymore for John's affair, not even batting an eye when he and his mistress practically displayed their liaison to you. Your thoughts focused on Jolyne, and only Jolyne, during every part of your day. And shameful to say, you envisioned yourself as Jolyne's partner in many of her smut stories while your private time.
Fantasizing about her tongue dragging up and down your clit, teasing you by slowing her pace when she knew you were near your climax. You'd tug at her hair, whining for her to stop toying with you. Jolyne would chuckle lightly and fulfill your command.
John never had you hot and bothered the way she did: And even he started to notice you've started to drift from him, taking a fondness for someone different. And he wasn't a fan of this fact at all.
-
"Miss. L/N, you are late for dinner once again." Richard tisks in slight dissatisfaction, hanging the coat you shrugged off at the front door. You whirl around facing him with a guilt-ridden expression, "I'm sorry, Richard. I never pay attention to the time when I'm in the garden." 
Richard smiles, milling toward you, " I can assure you, I have no problem with you enjoying your time In the garden. I have a problem with it being pitch black and cold as ice when you walk back to the manor unsupervised." 
"I won't do it again, Richard." 
Richard hums in acknowledgment of your words, taking them with a grain of salt. "You hungry? The chef's made your favorite." Richard sang the last part playfully. 
"I thought something smelt good!" 
You follow the scent down the dining hall until you stop at the dining room entryway. The doors are closed, meaning Gwendolyn has joined you for dinner. Pressing your ear gently against the door, you hear muffled noises which hope to god aren't what you expect to be happening. Knocking twice and announcing your presence, you hear the shifting of chairs scraping against the hardwood floors and hushed giggles before John approves of your arrival, uttering a "come in!"
Opening the door, a handful of reactions ensued. John gazes at you with a completely deadpan countenance, chewing a bite of his stake. Gwendolyn seats beside your fiance, unable
to contain her humor, a smirk spread across her freckled cheeks. The smudge of her red lipstick and the lipstick stain on the collar of John's shirt answered your questions from before. The maids look down with a mixture of guilt and anger. 
You take your seat across the long table, quietly observing them. Your husband breaks the silence, "Ah, Y/n, my dear. You've finally joined dinner; we've been waiting for quite a while. Mind telling me where on earth you were?" 
"Same place as always, the garden." You answer, scooping dinner from the bowls in front of you. 
"Oh? Well, Gwendolyn says otherwise." Your husband replies nonchalantly. You glance up at John, noticing the way his grip compresses his glass. John was beyond pissed. What did she tell him?
Glowering at the pair from across the table, you placed the laid back on the table, ready to start a heated argument with how aggravated you were by their antics. “What evidence was given for you to believe her?”
John smiles, “she wouldn't lie to me.” 
Gwendolyn smirks, indulging in your fury. Her countenance morphs by putting on a faux disappointment. “Y/n, how could you cheat on your fiance?! Have you no shame?! Of course, you don't. Gold diggers like yourself only want one thing and it's money.” 
At this point, you were shaking with rage. Not only did she fuck your fiance behind your back, and make every day a living hell for you, but now she wanted to ruin your reputation. 
You could give less of a fuck about what she and John did or what she thought of you. Regardless, you weren't going to let her mess you any longer.
You snatched the ladle of the dinner table. Using all of your might, you swung the ladle back and hurled it toward Gwendolyn. The ladle hit her with a loud ‘thunk!’. Gwendolyn fell to the floor with a whimper, she cradled her eye, a stream of sniffles before bawling. 
John was quick to her aid, “Gwendolyn, are alright?!” he crouched to her level, examining her bruised face. 
Without any regrets, you vacated the dining room whilst everyone else's attention concentrated on Gwendolyn. The freezing night air whistled in your ears as you jogged up the hill, tears slipping down your cheeks. You trip over your feet a couple of times until you reach the top of the hill. You enter the garden, collapsing to the ground. 
You sobbed on the ground, your chest tightening enough to make it harder to breathe. No matter how much you wipe away the tears, they don't stop. 
“I wish I never fucking- came in the first place!” you cried, .between your words. In an act of frustration, you twist your engagement ring off of your ring finger. Clutching the Golden spiral, you chuck it against the ground. You sit down on the nearest chair, taking a moment to breathe.
It takes a couple of minutes, possibly thirty, for you to finally console your nerves. You stare at the floor blankly, numerous thoughts flowing through your mind all at once. All are questions of what comes next. What will happen when you return to the manor? Will he kick you out for good? Punish you? Call the authorities, or call off the engagement and find someone? 
Whatever fate had in store for you, you aren't ready to find out. 
The thought of running off with his money comes to mind. Not only would you be free of an unfaithful partner you hold no affection for, but you also needn't worry about finances. To set the plan into motion you needed to grab the ring; it most definitely held some valuability to it. 
Your eyes trail over to the spot you threw the ring. Unfortunately, the ring was nowhere in sight. The ring possibly bounced when hitting the floor. You arise from your seat, striding over to the corner with butterflies. Crouching to your knees, you waved your hand to shoo away the insects. The ring was hooked around something. What was it hooked around? You, yourself had no clue. 
Begrudgingly, you pinched the ring, slowly raising the ring off the object. Unexpectedly, a skinless hand wrapped around your arm holding an ironclad grip. An inhumane scream releases from your throat: your throat searing the longer you yowl.
What seems to be a corpse ascends from the earth, using your body to pull itself out of the soil its body was buried in. Using your left leg, you boot the corpse in the face, over and over till it frees you. You roll onto your abdomen, using your nails to dig into the wood, pushing yourself forward. "Don't be scared, baby!" A female voice coos, below you. 
You pay no mind to the voice, continuing to claw your way to the door. The yank on your hair prevents you from proceeding with your escape, the woman climbs to the top half of your body, her lips grazing the skin of your ear, "No need to be scared of your fiancée, now show me that pretty face of yours."
Disobeying her command, she used her hand to forcefully rotate her body. You went stiff; above you, a woman caged you with her arms, however, she wasn't normal. The woman's bluish tint skin felt icy against yours, her hair resembling Jolyne's only dirtier, the woman sported a wedding dress with butterfly patterns on the veil. 
"Recognize me?" The woman giggled, cold fingertip tracing your warm cheeks. 
"J-Jolyne?" You said breathlessly in an incredulous tone. 
"Yup!"
Before you ask any questions, Jolyne interrupted you with a squeal. "The ring you got me is so cute! You actually put thought into it, unlike Romeo. " If she was still alive you were sure she'd be blushing. 
"What are you talking about?" 
"We're engaged! One more step and we’ll be married!" 
"Engaged? married?! Are you crazy, we're both women! And I'm also already engaged." You struggled in her grasp. Jolyne pouted, "I know this is different for you, Y/n, but I promise you'll be much happier with me! I've heard you declare your love to me before, more than once. And don't get me started on your moans of my name." 
your face flushes at her unfiltered words. "No! I don't want to! I want to be free, I don't want to be married!" 
Jolyne's once soft gaze harshened in a span of seconds. Jolyne's hand grips your chin tightly making you whimper. 
“You belong to me. I own you, body and soul. You agree to my terms the moment the ring was placed on my finger.”
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lexa-griffins · 2 years ago
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The tags about lexa’s hands are so true !! I mean I see a lot of people thinking it’s canon that lexa grew up in extreme poverty (ate very little, was cold during winter or wasn’t cared for when injured….) just because they assume everyone is suffering in the grounder’s society. Which seems… idk a little disturbing ? Like they think it was a shit hole ? Compared to the ark maybe in their views. Realistically speaking, given the rarity of nightbloods, I assumed they were very protected and shielded and were basically the equivalent of rich people’s children in order to allow them to develop in the best conditions
The nightbloods are all basically heirs to the throne, other than practicing with each other and their firsts, there shouldn't be much more they do physically, if you take away the whole eventually gonna fight for their lives, those are pretty much the best treated kids in the entirety of the coalition.
Do you guys think Lexa hunts for her food or is made do carry anything that could potentially injure her? Nightbloods are supposed to have indurance and be quick on their feet, not made to be able to throw down a warrior thrice their size with their bare hands!! Look at Lexa fighting! She uses momentum and tiring Roan never actual brute force - as yes that is still very much fighting still, actually it shows how much better she is at fighting than Roan who always tried to attack, tiring himself out quickly. The nightbloods, and by extent Heda, are much more sheltered than people think. They aren't warrios by trade, they are neither treated nor expect to act as such. They're leaders, first and foremost. They have people to do the heavy lifting for them, hell I'm almost positive they get what might be the best of the food to keep them in good health and avoid losing them to any sort of sickness.
Titus lessons where bullshit but they did serve one purpose - make sure the commander does not get hurt, neither physically nor emotionally.
And honestly Lexas dainty little princess hands are accidentally a very good show of how Heda is a position that requires much less field action than people let on.
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incaensio · 1 year ago
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"there's rivers and streams at four too?" annie speaks of the hot weather, but considering they have plenty of water (that gives access to fresh food) and seemingly no supervision, district four seems like heaven on earth. no wonder annie never wants to leave. "that's amazing." katniss reins in a sigh. "oh, yeah." the wheels in her brain turn rapidly as she seeks for an excuse — katniss couldn't bother wondering how they could have spinned the way she was such a natural in the arena last year: she had ran through the woods, climbed trees like a chipmunk, found prey, hunted for it, skinned and cooked and she had even dipped her body and swam a bit around the shallow lakes. "i'm friends with the mayor's daughter, madge." that part is true. "she has a pool in her backyard." that one is a lie, but annie would never know that, as the grounds were usually restricted to victors on tours, since they're supposed to enjoy only the dinner and the people within the walls of the mayor's house (or at least, that had been her experience as her attendants had often squeaked as they dragged katniss and peeta in their lovebirds façade back indoors).
katniss scoffs. "even their roses are weird here." she hates them. she hates him. even as she's yet to encounter the owner of the house, his presence is noted at every turn, at every painting, at every bowl with painted roses and the vases with real ones, ever waffing his disgusting scent of artificiality. katniss doesn't realize she's scowling until annie is speaking again, and there is a small part of her — that katniss is all too aware of — that is eager for annie to enjoy the fruit. "my mother?" her eyebrows come up. oh. the interviews. no, katniss had not watched them — peeta and her had rejoiced at the thought of being the last eight during their time in the cave, but after getting home and knowing how they had spun her family life, katniss had been too upset to even think of it. then, she had been so eager to leave the games behind forever; that twenty - one year old was foolish and still so innocent. unfortunately, there's no getting out of this. katniss' eyes goes downcast, and she picks a phyllo pastry filled with pistachios to distract herself, breaking the pastry apart with her fingertips. "yes, it's her calling. her parents were apothecaries, but we don't have hospitals or doctors at twelve so we do the best we can." annie doesn't need to know how they've spent most of the year taking half - naked, half - dead people in their kitchen to heal wounds inflicted both by the mine, starvation and the peacekeepers.
"must have been magical to see it for the first time." first snow always is. one of katniss' first memories was waking herself up and then prim so they could play in a winter wonderland, building their own snowmen and sticking spare buttons on their frame, giving them names and telling dad the snowmen are also off their mine work for sunday. of course, katniss has seen snow less romantically as she grew; winter meant food got sparser, and they relied more on coal, and there were particularly dark days they ate only hard bread, dried herbs and melted snow. "my mother always used to say that, medically speaking, the cold is better. we can use snow for compresses for twisted limbs and lacerations." her hand instinctively goes to her cheek; the scar from the lashing is entirely gone now, as if it never even happened, but she recalls the several days prim had pushed snow packs on her eye until her face was numb. she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear as if to mask the previous motion, and then finally shrugs. "i don't know, i guess it's better now." the house at the victor's village was a work of architecture, both beautiful and practical; they wouldn't be too hot nor too cold even if they tried. "not for everyone, though." the drastic weather changes at the seam were torturous, only adding to the normalized high death count already brought by extreme poverty.
"thea ellis." she repeats, using one of her mother's memorization tools. "i will keep her in mind." more or less. katniss isn't sure she can entirely trust annie, as nice as she is — she has an air of innocence that is almost laughable, because it doesn't fit people like them, and it does no good for katniss to be too trusting. especially when she is so adamant on defending finnick odair. sure, he had been her mentor, but would katniss be so insistent on defending haymitch? she knows his faults, and often pokes him for those herself when she's annoyed. but then she realizes that if it had been someone bad-mouthing peeta, she'd be furious because she knows him, knows what he's gone through. does annie know finnick? she's calling him finn, so she may? still, it's an odd sight in her head, annie hanging around the tan god - like figure that, last katniss has seen, was making several capitolites giggle with his greasy words. "he was your mentor, i guess?" she raises an eyebrow, trying to rationalize this. she, too, felt a sort of debt towards haymitch. it comes when someone else actually works to keep you alive. but her mentor was as he showed himself to be: straightforward, blunt, crass, drunk. it wouldn't be easy to convince katniss that finnick had any sort of depth.
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" yes, but not like how you'd think, " she being assumptious here. what would come to mind if someone mentioned saltwater ? " you shouldn't drink it, it's not like freshwater. but i've noticed that the salt makes it more dense than bodies of water up north that are fresh. " in the last five years, she's had brief bouts of heading further into mainland. once was to see the business fletcher requested funds for. much of that time she'd prefer to forget. " if they do have restrictions, i haven't seen them. sailors sometimes head out pretty far for their catches. deep sea fisherman are often so loose-lipped about their voyages, and i haven't heard them talk about limits. it'd probably be hard to impose. the sea is unpredictable at times. " it gives ; it takes. there were times when she'd reunite with finn, and they'd talk about packing rations before sailing far away from panem. it's wishful thinking, nothing is out there. such daydreams offered an escape from harsher realities though.
introspection halts at the whispered confession, processing only the words of katniss everdeen. " that's rare in twelve, isn't it ? " annie's voice matches the other woman's volume. in four, swimming was almost a necessity. even if you didn't work on the water, all industry led back to it. a lot of children turned to the academy ; some seeked a means to provide for their families, others craved the glory. regardless if they enrolled into the program or not, from a young age children learned skills like fishing, sailing, making nets, tying knots ... the list goes on. it's a mere coincidence that these skills of daily life also are considered survival skills. knowing how to propell oneself in the water isn't special for one from four, but from twelve ? annie is visibly impressed. ( it's something that can save a life, annie knows all too well. ) the question of how rings in her mind.
" things have a tendency to be a bit rose colored here. " unintentional pun is stated there. though annie knew the president had a fondness for roses, most do after all, she's unaware of how snow taunts the other with the beautiful flowers. she has much more to say on that, but stifles herself. a room of capitolites isn't the place to say it. her thoughts move to her fellow victors from four and thea, and how the capitol took so much from each just for drifting slightly off the line. ( she worries how her own drifting can directly impact the others too. ) soon however katniss is donning a plate of strawberries, offering them to her. " thank you, " the gratitude is quickly stated. this is the second time that the younger victor went out of her way to offer food. it's very kind, even if a tad unnecessary. it's something uncommon at these galas. cresta had seen her interact with rue and peeta in the arena. beck was so adamant that her softness there was a facade ; annie disagreed then, and does even more now.
" that's one thing i can be thankful for. my grandmother never has to worry about those kinds of things again. " her grandfather wouldn't have to either if he hadn't passed a decade and a half ago. agatha will work until she dies though. stagnation was a curse in the elderly woman's eyes. with the stipends of victorship however, her grandmother was able to pay the market workers more and put her own paycheck back into the community. ( it makes sleeping at night a little easier, knowing annie can indirectly help improve life after being the reason for directly ruining twenty-three others. ) " your mother mentioned that when they were interviewing the families, " during the games, it goes unsaid. had katniss ever watched them after she escaped the arena ? " it's selfless to do something like that. i'm sure she's provided countless aid to people in twelve. "
so twelve does get four seasons. what a marvel ! she read about it in books. a lot can probably grow if given the capacity, katniss would just have to deal with brutal off seasons. " i saw some snow in six and nine during my tour. it was the first time i ever saw it really, " she remarks. the only time she ever saw that kind of weather. in a time were her memories blurred into a fuzz, that was something that remained vivid. " do you get used to that the cold ? " heat was never a problem for annie. the ocean in its vast unknown did not haunt her. snowflakes were beautiful and delicate, but in flurried waves it felt perilous though.
it feels almost frivolous to be going through a list of victors annie trusted. had it been someone like johanna, she would have assumed it had been a sarcastic question to just rub into. ( she thinks that, but also likes the fighter from seven. ) five years ago, it would have been nice to have someone answer it for her. though she did have hands that guided more tenderly than she can imagine haymitch does. " she is, and some of victors from two are exactly how you'd picture. but not her, i promise. career districts are more complex than most would think. " not all of them dream of honor or have a bloodthirsty quench. the tributes from one and two in the seventieth did. percy however trained at the academy, and would have been an example victor of four. his error was aligning himself with annie. having her back meant losing his head, quite literally. does it sound self-serving to vindicate some from one, two, and ultimately four ? she wonders, she'd understand if it did.
she's relieved that she doesn't have to do any convincing for mags or graham. she can only assume, given that katniss does not callout the two by name. a beat is taken at the mention of finnick though. for the first time in their conversation, annie is carefully choosing each of her words. " he plays the game better than most. people like him for that, " it's not the man she's come to know the years following the arena, but people have their personas to survive. " it works in his favor as a mentor, and gives his tributes an edge with sponsors, " she offers. finn was so young when he won. the shine that enthralled the capitol never left. he was shown no mercy in that regard. he won but his cost was greater than any other victor she's come to deeply know. do peeta and katniss know that the games never end yet ? she hopes not. the image of infatuated newlyweds getting used to capitol generosity could provide bliss alongside the ignorance. though whether one knows immediately or down the line, the truth reveals itself. there's no escape.
but speaking about the male victor in the context of the games feels wrong, feels cold. it's too analytical, and appears like she's trying to instigate an alliance of sorts. that's not annie's intention. he can put his hat on the table for that without annie. though she will likely air the distaste that katniss feels for him next time the two were together. ( few things were secret between odair and cresta after all. ) " finn he was there for me before and after in ways i could never repay him for. " these words feel less stale than the previous statement. and that's on annie not having to contemplate what she says. if she could show katniss the aptness finnick had for being gentle around those he cared for, she would in a heartbeat. but it's irrelevant, isn't it ? his peacocked charisma domineers his presence in the capitol. it's so different from the loveliness of his authenticity. it's a charm he is less willing to show to the masses. at least annie got to see the genuine finnick odair.
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artistgoudeau · 3 years ago
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Drabble: Sugar daddy Erwin x femreader! Minors do NOT interact! 18 + only
Song inspiration: https://open.spotify.com/track/2ViSWfhT0kvEulXA1HH7Wk?si=vzHAwRG9RzO0D7tvEm8Ing
Ok so what about a sugar daddy Erwin who finds a fem sugar baby who grew up poor as dirt.
Becomes a HUGE simp! 😍 Like he met her while she was working one of her three jobs and paying for a sh*tty apartment. She catches his eye when she takes his dinner order and she’s clearly tired but is cherry and polite as possible to all of the guests. He becomes a regular at the restaurant she serves and always asks about her and her life. They exchange stories and experiences with each other and become basically friends. She doesn’t know he’s super rich at first until he finally asks her to accompany him to some job party he’s having. She thinks it’s just a regular office party until he sends her a dress that costs more than 3 months rent! He picks her up in a Mercedes and takes her to a gala event for his company where he is the CEO (cause duh). He apologizes afterwards for kinda misleading her but makes it up by bombarding her with gifts and dates. And when he learns about the extent of your debt/poverty, he helps convince you to quit your job and be his baby full time. He ✨SPOILS ✨ you to the point where you’re concerned that he’s speeding too much of his money on you. But he’s not concerned and buys you cars, plane tickets to wherever you want to go, custom designed clothes, luxury makeup and other hygiene products. The whole nine yards.
He HATES thinking of you having nothing to your name. Although you are very used to the struggle life, he doesn’t think a perfect being such as you should ever have anything less than perfection and luxury. He wants you to be his queen and never have to worry about anything ever again. You tell him about your childhood where your single mother did everything she could to make life work for your family. She would regularly go without food or other necessities in order to make sure the family was taken care of. Hearing this breaks his heart. He’s always been privileged even after the death of his father. He has always had more than enough. You reminded him that money isn’t everything. You were poor yes but you were happy. Your family was together and you were able to find other joys in life. At this point he realizes he loves you and wants to keep you around as possible but he can’t tell you yet befits he knows if you love him too. His exes had all acted very sweet at first but would later turn into something else entirely after he confessed his feelings. They only wanted his money. He wanted to be truly loved. 🥺❤️
You spend more time at his place these days. Not that you or him mind. He’ll eventually have you move in and even give you your own room when you want privacy. You’re so domestic with him. Making him meals and helping relax after a long day of work. You always greet him with hugs and kisses when he gets home from work. “Muah! Daddy hi! Let me get your jacket! Would you like me to pour your drink?” “Hello darling. A drink would be lovely yes.” He’s smiling like an idiot watching you bounce away to his mini bar to pour him a scotch (neat ✨) . “It smells heavenly in here. What are you making?” “Ha. It’s just chicken with some sides, nothing special.” You couldn’t possibly know how much it means to him to have you cook him meals and tend to him almost like a husband. In your mind, it was the very least you could do after all he’s given you.
When he is gone for business trips he has you send him pics and videos of you playing with your toys and stuffing your fingers in your pussy. He loves soap shower/bath pics the best. Whenever he gets the chance he’ll have a video call with you, giving you directions on how he wants you to touch yourself. “That’s it baby, now add another finger. Come on, I know you can do it sweetie. You take my fingers so well, just pretend it’s me. I know it’s not the same. I’ll be home soon to stuff your little cunt proper.” He says the filthiest things when he’s in that mood. You can see his cock leaking from the tip as he’s stroking himself. You can even hear the wet sound from his rapid strokes. 🥵😳 “See what you do to me baby? I’m so hard for you. I miss you so much.”
You are so grateful to him (cause you were raised with manners)✌🏾. You make sure to thank him as much as possible for his generosity. You write him letters and get him cards that you hope can convey your gratitude. And in addition, you gobble up that cock like you need it to live. 😝 He praises your efforts, “There’s a good girl, Daddy loves the way you take him so deep.” He knows he has a lot to handle, but he’s touched at your enthusiasm to please him. Don’t worry, you both have plenty of time to get his dick fully down your throat. ☺️His favorite positions are to have you bouncing on his dick in his office and in bed. He loves making you good his little cock sleeve and watches as his dick splits you wide open. He loves to give you praise after you’ve been so good for him. “Just like that Angel, use my cock to make yourself cum.” “So perfect, my little princess, you deserve the best. I’ll give you anything you want love.” “So good for me, you’re so fucking tight!” Absolutely fantasies about marrying you. (Especially after you swallow his cock whole the first time 🤪. This man almost lost his composure and bucked his hips forward making you gag.😩. )
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Can you tell I have a problem? 😭 let know what you guys think 😬
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seajaysims · 3 years ago
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Haven Choi for the GF applications for  @acuar-io !!
For more details, please click the read more. 
Name: Haven Choi
Race/Ethnicity: Korean-Puerto Rican.
Sexuality: Lesbian
Traits: Freegan, Creative, Kleptomaniac
Aspiration: Painter Extraordinaire 
Age: Young Adult (26)
Likes: The color blue, the smell of paint and coffee, upcycling, DIYs, alternative music, flowers, tattoos, pretty girls with gorgeous eyes.
Habits: Low-crime stealing, smoking, dumpster-diving, sketching, photography, eating snacks rather than a full meal. 
General Story: Haven was born and raised in Newcrest with her parents who were both known to be on hard times. Her father was known to follow his passions, which sadly changed as often as the seasons did. Her mother was the main bread-winner for them, mostly writing reviews on food which allowed her to even bring some food back home for her family. More often than not, Haven had to deal with various nights with no electricity and plumbing. The repo-man was seen quite often around her home, and the constant struggle to make enough income to pay their bills caused Haven’s parents to argue a lot. She’s seen the fights plenty, and while most parents fight over small things like grilled cheese her parents were always known to make a scene.
As such, Haven grew up with a bit of a warped perspective on romance. She’s a hopeless romantic at heart, but doesn’t show it. Shortly after the fights with her parents she could see things start to break. The two ended up divorcing and she was flip-flopped between the both of them through the week until she finally became 18. The girl wants to find love, but often wonders if it’s worth it considering how her parents ended up. She believes in true love... If she can find it. She grew up with some... Habits. Stealing small items to sell and make enough to eat dinner, but if she didn’t have enough time to buy dinner she’d often look in dumpsters from the local cafes or diners for some food (the food is clean!... enough). 
One thing that definitely stuck from her childhood was her love of painting and drawing. When she was a teenager she’d be seen at local parks tagging them up with graffiti, but as the locals noticed her talent they began requesting murals from her. She gained a small living making various pieces for people, and began to get to know people more in the community. Moving into a much needs TLC apartment, she became a local artist and starting mentoring other teens in need on painting. 
A main concern for Haven is to end up like her parents, or have other kids end up like her parents. While her and her parents aren’t on the best of terms, there was always a quote her father said to her that always makes her smile. “Do you know why we called you Haven? Because you’ll always be our safe haven, dear. You have always been bright and welcoming, and we can see that you’ll extend that to all you meet.”
When Haven isn’t painting in her apartment or helping children in need, she can be seen at various protests fighting for the rights of everyone. Growing up in poverty has caused her to be very proactive in finding aid for people, and she more or less wants to help those who can’t help herself. Yes she has some questionable means... But she always means well. Perhaps someone else can see that and fulfill her hopeless romantic dream of getting with the one?
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harrysbbby · 5 years ago
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Don’t Forget Where You Belong - JJ Maybank x Reader - Part One
A/N: Hey guys! Long time no post! But after watching Outer Banks I felt inspired to start a new series featuring my new fav JJ. Hopefully more updates soon!
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Outer Banks was a peculiar place to live. One half was uber rich- multiple houses, 30k boats and memberships at golf club. The other half lived, arguably, in poverty. No power when big surges came through, working two jobs just to get food on the table. You had been both blessed and cursed to have grown up experiencing both.
You were born on The Cut. To a single mother as your dad had dipped not long after he figured out what he thought was his summer fling was knocked up. Your childhood was pretty good even though you were poor. Swimming in the marsh near your house and days by the beach playing with your friends. Ah yes, your friends. You distinctly remember the day you met John B. It was first day of second grade as you sat in your assigned seat in the classroom. A curly-haired boy came and sat next you, inspecting your things on your desk. Being the snotty nosed 8-year old you were, you frowned at the boy, pulling your things closer to yourself on the desk and turning to face away from him. He then tapped you on the shoulder.
“What?” you asked him (rudely).
“Do you like surfing?” he asked abruptly, as any curious young child would.
“Yeah,” you replied, “My mum takes me on weekends. Why?”
“I like surfing too. It means we’re best friends now.” He said with certainty. And because when you’re 8 and someone tells you something, you believed them, you did. You believed John B would be your best friend. Little did you know, 8 years later, he still would be.
From that day on he had become your partner in crime, wreaking havoc across the poor neighbour. But how could any of your neighbours hate you when you were both so cute?
Your duo became a trio about a year later when you inducted JJ into your group. Even as a young child, the addition of JJ into your friendship circle made your stomach drop: “What if John B doesn’t want to be my friend anymore if he’s friends with another boy?”
However all doubts evaporated as the three of you became thick as thieves. The three of you got up to so much mischief in The Cut, and you created a brotherly bond with the two guys.
But the fairy tale only lasted a few years. When you were 12 you mother met a man. Nice, well-dressed and full-on kook. Within a year she married him, and your life of borderline poverty was traded for one of luxury. You were forced to move to Figure 8 aka the rich side of the island, leaving behind your two best friends.
You had been in John B’s backyard on the day you were moving.
“I’ll come visit I promise, you’ll see me on weekends. We can still go surfing.” You said, sadness laced in your voice. You really didn’t want to move. You knew it was going to be good for you. Stability, chance at a future, but it nearly tore you apart having to leave your best friends, your family.
“Yeah of course,” John B said confidently. He moved over to give you a hug after seeing your lower lip turn and begin to shake. You wrapped your arms around him.
“Thanks JB,” you separated from your hug and turned to JJ. He was still sitting sullenly, facing the marsh with his arms crossed defiantly across his chest. He refused to even look at you.
“JJ,” John B began but was cut off but JJ abruptly standing up and stomping his foot.
“No! She’s going to forget us! She’s gonna have a better kook house with better kook friends and a better kook life!” He stormed inside the Chateau, slamming the door. You sighed, as your shoulders dropped.
“He’ll come around,” John B said, patting your shoulder comfortingly.
“I hope he does.”
Turns out it was a lot harder to live the Pogue lifestyle from Figure 8. You were constantly being dressed up and dragged off to lavish parties. You started going to the private school with the rest of the obnoxious rich kids, who had no interest in surfing or fishing or anything you liked. And with your new lifestyle, it was hard to see John B and JJ. It started off well, meeting them every second afternoon after school, but as you grew older, and school got harder and life got busier, trips to The Cut became less and less frequent.
Not all the kooks were terrible though. You became good friends with two girls, Sarah and Kiara. Sarah was nice but you got on much better with Kiara. She liked going to the beach and cared about the environment. So, when Sarah and Kiara had their massive falling out when you were in 10th grade you didn’t know what to do. You had been at Sarah’s birthday party but left as soon as Kie rang you crying about being left out. By the next Monday at school, you and Kie were outsiders.
This eventually led you back to John B and JJ. You and Kie had taken the car your step-dad had bought you for your birthday, and had just been driving aimlessly. You had driven into The Cut and before you knew it you were at The Chateau.
“What are we doing here?” Kie asked.
To be completely honest, you had no idea what had led you to absentmindedly drive here. But as you got out of the car and ran around the back you knew exactly why. JJ, John B and a third boy you had never met were sat around a bonfire.
“Y/N” you heard JJ’s voice quaver quizzically. You smiled as you ran towards the two boys who were now sprinting towards you. You jumped into John B’s arms as he grabbed you and pulled you up. The three of you emitted melodical laughter as John B put you on the ground and you eyes stared back at JJ’s.
“Come here,” he said hoisting you off the ground and into his arms. You squealed as he spun the two of you around. He set you back down and you took a step back.
“What are you doing here?” John B asked as the other boy you hadn’t met and Kie joined your group from separate sides.
“I don’t know,” you said tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, “We were just driving and ended up here.”
“That’s all?” John B smirked at you. He knew you too well.
“I missed you guys!” you yelled exasperatedly. The two boys laughed as you continued, “The Kook academy is horrible, everyone’s so snobby and now they hate me. Well, us.”
“Us?”
“Oh yeah, this is Kiara,” you said gesturing to your friend. She smiled sheepishly and waved at the three boys. They all waved back. “She’s my friend from school.”
“Well this is Pope, he’s from school too.” They said gesturing to the boy standing behind them.
“Nice to meet you.” You smiled at the boy.
“Well,” JJ said draping his arm over your shoulder, and pulling you close towards him as he led you towards the bonfire. “Welcome back to the Pogue life.”
PART 2 UP NOW:
https://harrysbbby.tumblr.com/post/618181419525718016/dont-forget-where-you-belong-jj-maybank-x
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apollodrome · 4 years ago
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1- the logical thinking indicates that the most probably option is usually the correct option, for example, if a man has lung cancer the most likely option is that is lung cancer is related to his tabaquism, the same aplly on this case, if a person with morbid obesity has some kind of circulation problem then the most likely option is that is related to the weight of that person, now about your question, if you wanna know how morbid obesity relates to health problems then my answer is
2 - read a goddanm biology book (or just google it), the answer is right there, you dont need to ask a random person on the internet about that, and guess what, you cannot put links into asks so im unable to give you the link to any kind of article explaining that, if you wanna know the corelation then just search morbid obesity on wikipedia.
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This ask is about this post where a woman's health issues are blamed by doctors on her weight, so she loses the weight, and when doctors see that her health issues have not gotten better, but have gotten worse, they order tests that they should have ordered months ago.
I think you misunderstand the point of the post. Let's take the obesity out of this. A woman goes to the doctor for severe cramps, sleepiness during the day, memory and balance problems. Doctors refuse to treat her. That's all there is to this issue - a woman has gone to a medical professional with a set of symptoms, and the medical professional did not test her for the conditions that have the above symptoms.
You give me an example in your ask of smokers having an increased risk of lung cancer, so let's apply this analogy here. A smoker goes to the doctor and says, "doctor, I have difficulty breathing, a painful cough that doesn't go away for months, I lost 50 pounds in less than a month, pain in my hands, fingers and chest." These are very common symptoms of lung cancer. So, what you're advocating for, is that the doctor should refuse to order any tests for the patient, tell them to stop smoking, and send them on their way. We know that some health risks are associated with obesity, in the same way that lung cancer is associated with smoking, so should we not be testing those people for those diseases more often?
People whose father has died of heart disease are at more risk of heart disease, so we test those people for heart disease when they mention they have symptoms. People whose family has ADHD are more at risk of having ADHD, so we test those people for ADHD when they mention they have symptoms. Why is obesity any different? If a disease has already developed, losing weight will do nothing except for decrease that initial risk, but it's past that already if they HAVE THE DISEASE. They have to be treated for the disease. Thin people can get heart attacks, and non smokers can get lung cancer or develop asthma, so why do those people go to the doctor with those symptoms and get tested, and obese people don't?
In some of your replies on that post, you have used this Wikipedia page as your source. On the same page, it says,
"While a majority of obese individuals at any given time are attempting to lose weight and often successful, research shows that maintaining that weight loss over the long term proves to be rare." (Wikipedia includes a reference for this, I've linked it here).
I am using the same research you are using to argue my point. If an obese individual walks into a doctor's office with symptoms of a heart condition, and is told to lose weight, they are basically sentenced to death. As we can see above, long term weight loss may lead to more health risks, and is actually very rare in most people (less than 1 in 100 obese people manage to lose the weight and stay at the new weight), and so if a doctor tells an obese person not to come back until she has lost all of the weight, she may actually die before she comes back to the doctor.
Obesity is an issue, and does increase the risks of some conditions. However, according to the same Wikipedia article you and I have both been using,
"obesity has individual, socioeconomic, and environmental causes, including diet, physical activity, automation, urbanization, genetic susceptibility, medications, mental disorders, economic policies, endocrine disorders, and exposure to endocrine-disrupting chemicals."
I don't want to assume you're enough of a heartless monster to say "obese people brought this on themselves and therefore deserve to suffer and die due to medical malpractice" as a response to my above point, but JUST IN CASE YOU WERE, that's a whole lot of people you're condemning. You're condemning children who grow up in poverty and whose parents can only afford McDonald's (cheaper than vegetables in the USA), you're condemning my uncle, who had a deadly thyroid issue that wasn't treated in time (he grew up in Soviet Russia) and messed up his metabolism so bad he currently exercises for 3 hours a day but is still extremely overweight. You're condemning people with pcos, people with hyperthyroidism, people with eating disorders and depression. All of those people, in your opinion, do not deserve medical treatment.
With what we now know, let's summarise.
Fact 1: people who are obese have a higher risk of developing certain disorders, in the same way that someone with a family history of heart problems may develop heart problems, however, no disease is directly CAUSED by obesity and obesity alone. If that were the case, thin people wouldn't get those diseases at all, but I know many thin people with narcolepsy, cancers, and heart issues.
Fact 2: obesity can be caused by many factors, not just eating a lot of junk food. I've already mentioned hyperthyroidism, eating disorders, pcos, and poverty as some of those factors, but there are more. A lot of those factors are not the fault of the obese individual. We also know that once someone is already obese, keeping off weight that they lose is extremely difficult and takes a long time.
Fact 3: when a smoker goes to the doctor with symptoms of lung cancer, they are told to stop smoking, but they are also SCREENED FOR LUNG CANCER and TREATED IF THERE IS LUNG CANCER PRESENT.
Fact 4: according to the woman in the original post, she went to the doctor with symptoms of narcolepsy and other issues, was told to lose weight, BUT WAS NOT TESTED FOR THE DISEASES SHE IS AT RISK FOR, OR TREATED.
Do you see my point now? Yes, obesity is linked to diseases, but that should mean that people who are obese are screened and treated MORE OFTEN, not less or god forbid not treated at all. Preventing obesity by exercising and eating well is something we should definitely do ON A GLOBAL SCALE (better mental health help for people with depression/eating disorders, cheaper vegetables for people in poverty, more education, less fast food places), to decrease our risk of the diseases that obesity is associated with increasing the risk for (type two diabetes, sleep apnea, narcolepsy, certain cancers), but if someone is already obese, weight loss is no longer a cure, and actual treatment needs to be administered. Weight loss was never a cure, it is a PREVENTATIVE MEASURE, and not even a good one according to the evidence I've provided above. Healthy eating and exercise are good preventative measures, but they do not always contribute to weight loss. So why do doctors prescribe weight loss in the form of pills and calorie restriction, rather than eating HEALTHY and exercising? ALSO, if weight loss was a cure, non-obese cancer patients, non-obese people with narcolepsy, and non-obese people with eating disorders would also be told to lose weight rather than given treatment. So why is weight loss the ONLY treatment doctors give obese people? Obesity is much more complicated than a person just eating a lot of junk and getting fat, that's not how it works.
You know how we "eliminate the most probable option"? WE TEST THE PATIENT FOR IT, AND IF THE TEST COMES BACK NEGATIVE WE ELIMINATE THE OPTION. Why was the woman in the post not tested, and why do you advocate for this? Why do you think a group of people deserves medical attention less than others?
Here's another analogy. Wearing a mask and staying six feet away from others is a PREVENTATIVE MEASURE for covid. When a person already has covid, they are not told to wear a mask and stay six feet away from others. They are put in a hospital and treated. What you are advocating for is akin to sending a person with covid symptoms away with a mask, and not treating them at all.
To summarise: correlation is not causation, all people deserve medical help (people who are turned away from doctors a LOT are women, people of colour, and fat people. Medical discrimination needs to be eradicated in all of those cases) and you are in no position to decide who deserves to be treated and who doesn't.
I'm not overweight myself. I just care about people receiving the medical treatment they need and deserve, regardless of what they look like or what other conditions they already may have. I recommend really looking at yourself and examining the biases you have against fat folks, and figuring out how to become better as a person. You seem to enjoy giving unsolicited medical advice, so here's some from me: stop being a dick.
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pedropascalunofficial · 4 years ago
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My Cousin, Pedro Pascal
Ximena Riquelme
16 NOV 2017 12:53 PM
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Before being the protagonist of Narcos or filming with Colin Firth, José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal (42) was a child whom I knew very well because we are from the same family. A man who today looks with nostalgia and some perplexity at his place of origin and his history and who still does not answer what would have happened if he had stayed here.
The first memory I have of Pedro is in the arms of my mother during his baptism, in the garden of my house. She was a weeping bus and had huge black eyes. I was 9 years old. It was cloudy. Years later I learned that the priest was Gerardo Whelan, the legendary rector of Saint George's College. Pedro's parents were not at his baptism: my uncle, José Balmaceda, my mother's only male brother, and his wife Verónica Pascal were asylees at the Venezuelan embassy, which was on Bustos street, near my house. Pepe, as we used to say to my uncle, who years later would become a famous gynecologist, an expert in fertilization, was then a 27-year-old young doctor, in those days wanted by Dina. Some time before they had hidden Andrés Pascal Allende, Mirista and his wife's uncle. One day they came to take him to the José Joaquín Aguirre Hospital and he managed to escape by jumping through the roofs. It was October 1975.
Like most of the Chilean families, there were supporters of both sides in mine: for and against Pinochet. Trying to help Pedro's parents, my dad called a relative who held a high position in the Army. "Tell the children to get asylum, because I cannot guarantee their lives or that nothing happens to Veronica," was his reply. She was 22 years old. Then began the journey of my uncles and with them that of my cousin José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal. Pepe and Verónica had to start living secretly in different houses. Pedro, who was only 6 months old at the time, and his 3-year-old sister Javiera were left in charge of my mother's older sister, "Aunt Juani."
The second memory I have of Pedro is when I accompanied my parents, who carried him and his sister in their arms, to stand on the sidewalk in front of the Venezuelan embassy so that their parents could see them through the window.
My uncles left the Venezuelan embassy for the airport in January 1976, Pedro was 9 months old and obviously does not remember anything. I just remember that they didn't let me go. Pedro could not record the image, which I could not see, of his grandfather Luis Pascal Vigil - a very prominent lawyer - singing the National Anthem on the balcony of Pudahuel. A memory that is not mine but that I adopted, for cute.
As the people of the International Red Cross advised our family on time, Pedro and his sister did not leave the embassy with their parents, but arrived directly at the airport: this allowed their passports not to be stamped with the "L" for " limited to circulate "that stamped on the exiles who left. Therefore, the years that Pedro and Javiera came could come to Chile without problems. And for that reason, the choclón of cousins, we were able to share long summers in Pucón and some winters in Santiago.
The Balmaceda Pascal first arrived in Aarhus, Denmark, in October 1976. A year later they left for San Antonio, Texas, where Pedro's father was able to continue improving himself thanks to a grant from the Rockefeller Foundation. Veronica earned a PhD in Child Psychology.
________________________________________
"But Denmark is invisible to me," Pedro writes me by email. A while ago I proposed to interview him at a distance to travel a little about his history, and here we are, in front of the computer, sharing memories. "It is invisible to me, like everything that happened before. Although once, after telling him about my childhood, a doctor told me that the temporary separation with my mother was trapped in the memory of my body and that I could remember it through the senses".
My cousin, far away
The third memory I have of Pedro is a summer in Pucón. It must have been in 1978. "Pepelo", as we said, was no longer a guagua but a restless, very blond boy, who was so impacted by poverty in Chile that when he went out on the street with his gringo accent, he asked any person: "Are you poor?" He took food out of the pantry and gave it away. With my cousins we rented a warm wooden house, colorful, with the door frames out of square. It was summers with trips to those black sand beaches that burned the feet and picnics in Caburgua with lamb on the stick. They took us to mass and Pedro sang very inspired.
"This is where the memories become more vivid, like dreams," he writes. "I remember so many details: my older cousins, children my age who were like family. The beach seemed endless. I also remember running down the hallways and stairs of Aunt Juani's house looking for Santa Claus at Christmas."
XR: What was it like leaving your parents in the United States?
PP: "I think the trauma was going back to the States, although I obviously wanted to be with my parents. But childhood in Chile, with the Balmaceda and Pascal, was a dream, a world where nothing was missing, pure adventure and love."
Now that he tells me that, I remember that image of Pedro hanging on the neck of our aunt Juani, crying in Pudahuel because she did not want to return. At that time going to the airport was a panorama: we were going en masse to leave him and his sister, who traveled in charge of the stewardesses.
In 1981 I went with my parents and my two sisters to see the Balmaceda Pascal in Texas. I remember an eternal road trip from Miami, I remember Pedro's house, in a middle-class neighborhood, comfortable, beautiful, lovingly arranged by his mother. I remember the tears of my mother and Pedro's mother when we said goodbye to return to Chile. We still didn't know when they could return. Although Pedro never fully returned.
In December 1983, Pepe and Verónica were able to enter Chile. The whole family was packed on the terrace of Pudahuel, waiting for them. I remember the Balmaceda Pascal walking from the stairs of the plane to the International Police. I remember them happy, triumphant. Pedro was 8 years old and chose to stay in my house, in love with my girl sister.
We all went to Quintero, to the house of our grandfather Pepe, a great smoker, tennis player, and fanatic fanatic who took us to the town cinema to see double Tora! Programs, Tora !, Tora! More Bridges on the River Kwai and other old movies. Surely Pedro had to see several. Since he was a boy he said he wanted to be a "director". He liked horror movies and was a big movie consumer, like his dad.
PP: "I remember going to the movies with the cousins and the grandfather to see anything with Clint Eastwood, Sylvester Stallone. They leased me VHS movies to see alone and happy."
XR: You once recited Hamlet on the beach with Grandpa.
PP: "No, it was Death of a Salesman, by Arthur Miller. I was about 14 years old. I videotaped it and lost the fucking camera on the trip back to the United States."
After that summer, Pedro began to come more sporadically. He was already grown up, at school and then at university. They had moved to Newport Beach, California. His father was doing very well. But Pedro, not so much.
PP: "I think that the way the family supported me in Chile was the opposite of what I experienced in Newport Beach. I started well in California but at 13 years old, very involved in the cinema, reading plays, books, TV, TV, TV, obsessed with these things, I had the bad luck to find few like me. It was a world very attached to conservatism and its privileges where not fitting was punished. There was a group of shitty goats who were my friends the first year and became my terrors thereafter. I don't enjoy remembering that time, but there are deep connections from back then. Friends of my parents who are like parents until today."
Pedro's mom soon found a performance arts program at a high school in another district. A more inclusive school compared to Corona del Mar, the neighborhood where they lived in Newport.
PP: "My mom and my driver's license were my salvation. There I was able to unleash my appetite for movies and theater without limits."
As time went by Pedro became a fun, provocative teenager with character. He said he was "lazy", but he went to study Theater at NYU in 1993 and he loved it. I started to see it less. When he came to Chile he went out with his friends, I was already married and having children.
XR: Did you find that our way of life was very boring?
PP: "Bored, no. But overwhelming regarding life's permanent decisions. I didn't have the Catholic structure, and I felt there was no room for a young guy like me. Like suddenly, from one trip of mine to another, you had lives that included marriages and children, and pleasing the visits of the gringo cousin was no longer an option for all of you. I had to duel, because I was jealous of his inattention."
XR: Do you find us very conservative?
PP: "Yes, but it is a major contradiction for me. I come from the perspective that no one can decide how someone else should live their life. And well, in our family there are social rules that are very firm. I think that a person has the right to live his life conservatively or wildly as long as he does not negatively impact anyone or tries to embarrass others by his lifestyle. I don't touch these issues very much with our family for fear of hearing their perspective, but what I do know is that if I ever needed help I could ask any member of our family by the name of Balmaceda, and I would get it."
In 1995, Pedro's parents returned to Chile with their two youngest children, Nicolás and Lucas, who had been born in California. Javiera also came for a couple of years. Pedro stayed in the United States.
PP: "It was a very scary period. I grew up with my family in the United States and from one day to the next there was no home to return to. Suddenly the idea of the safe nest was gone. It was shocking because in previous years I took for granted the privileged life we had in California. I never thought that this could change as suddenly as happened to my parents when they became exiles. Everything felt fragile. Also, I knew that my parents' marriage was wrong and that the tension of those circumstances was hardly going to end. My mother's life felt in danger and the line between needing her, being there for her and finishing my studies and pursuing a career was a horrible conflict. I knew that my mom wanted me to continue doing mine, she never would have wanted me to sacrifice it."
XR: Did you really resent the failure of your parents' marriage?
PP: "For me it was the hardest time. I have not been able, and I do not know if someday I will be able to reconcile completely how my parents separated and the tragedy that came after that separation. The circumstances of my mother's death made it very hard for us to keep her memory of who she was. It hurts so much ... Sometimes I feel distressed and try to face it in the best possible way, because I know that my mother would not like me to do it in any other way."
Pedro lost his mother when he was 24 years old.
PP: "It's hard to say what I remember most about her. You met her, so it is easy for you to understand that she was the love of my life. I think of her every day. Since I don't pray, I can't say that I have a practice to feel her close, but I live for her even though she's gone, and that makes sense to me."
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From Alexander to Pedro
XR: Do you believe that pain makes us stronger or does it seem like a horrible cliché?
PP: "I don't think it's a terrible cliche but a profound reality. In some way, losing the most important person in your life, discovering that something like this is possible and that what you fear most in life can happen is an identifiable and permanent moment. There is a before and after after his death. I think, yes, that old age would not have been for my mother, there would have been no footwear with her. Of course, no one wants to grow old, but others can handle it better. I would not have liked to see my mom struggling with it, but at the same time, I wish I had her every day still with me."
It may have been the summer of 2012. Pedro said to our aunt Juani: "I am 37 years old and I still can't get what I want. And it's the only thing I know how to do." It had been a long time since the death of his mother in the summer of 2000 that Pedro had changed his name. From Pedro Balmaceda to Pedro Pascal. He had been searching for years, years of casting where, by being called Pedro Balmaceda in the studios, they hoped to find a Latin or classic Mexican phenotype. He had only made minor appearances in some series.
XR: Although you did not regret it, you did wear Alexander at some point. Why?
PP: "That was a desperate period and directly related to having lost my mother. I was desperate to work, to fill my days with something more to suffer. To eliminate the confusion that casting directors had with this guy named Pedro with European or Caucasian traits, I changed my first name to Alexander and took my mom's last name, Pascal. That only lasted a year, until I was able to find a job and be selected for an Ibsen theatrical classic. But it was too late for people to identify me as "Alex". Also, my mom named me Pedro. So the decision was to call me Pedro Pascal, a name that fits with me more than any other."
Soon after that came Brothers and Sisters, other small roles, and later more important ones in The Good Wife, The Law and Order, The Mentalist, until Game of Thrones, Narcos in 2015 and now, filming Muralla china with Matt Damon and William Dafoe - last year we all went to see his cousins together - and then Kingsman 2 with Colin Firth, Julianne Moore, Jeff Bridges, Halle Berry and Channing Tatum.
XR : Have you ever been excited acting with such powerful actors?
PP: "I have been thrilled with everyone."
With fame have come the new meetings of the cousins with Pedro Pascal. We all want to see him, take pictures of us, we ask him for greetings-chub for friends, we inflate ourselves by saying that he is our cousin. That Peña, the protagonist of Narcos and the sexiest guy in the world, is my cousin-brother. He laughs and humorously calls us "scoundrels" because now we remember him. In fact, that's what our cousin chat on Whastapp is called.
But there is also the modesty to disturb him. Know that you are busy. That while I'm sending you these questions, you're filming in Boston with Denzel Washington. And to feel that there is always a lack of time to speak to him calmly, a space to ask him questions like the ones that occur to me now:
XR: Exile changed your life. Can you imagine growing up in Chile?
PP: "I don't know, because I haven't thought much about it. I have been asked this question all my life and have never been able to come up with an answer. Perhaps my life would have been more complete and solid. What I am used to is that the past disappears as if it had been lived by someone else, in another time."
XR: Do you miss something from when you were Pedro Balmaceda?
PP: "You know? There is very little difference between Pedro Balmaceda and Pedro Pascal. As it is all part of José Pedro Balmaceda Pascal, I feel the same person. But with back problems and more money."
XR: Would you like to start a family?
PP: "Being a dad? I don't know. I have no fucking idea. I love being an uncle. It may just end there. But anything is possible."
XR: Marialy Rivas said something very nice about you on Saturday: that when you play a character, you pretend that this character brought a whole previous story, much bigger than what they are telling. And it's true: you carry a bigger story than you tell it.
PP: "I don't know, cousin. I am very confused trying to organize the past and see what turns out. It helps me understand the pain or be grateful for what I have. Sometimes I feel like I'm a fraud, living between waiting for fame and attention and completely embarrassed by these wishes.
In reference to what Marialy said, I think she means that I put all my confusion, joy and sorrow, ambivalence, hostility, rage, love, lust, greed, compassion, ignorance, knowledge either to indicate a map with the finger on Narcos, throwing an arrow in Game of Thrones, lashing out at Kingsman. Cool! But I think my experience in theater taught me that."
XR: Would you someday like your life to be a script?
PP: "No way." (in english)
XR: Do you still want to be a "director", as you used to say when you were a kid?
PP: "Yes! That will be my way of being a father. Father of a production."
XR: Is dreaming about an Oscar the dream of every actor, even if you don't confess it?
PP: "I confess that possibly… yes."
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cafedanslanuit · 4 years ago
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RFA with a MC that grew up in really bad poverty
@gompereatsall​ sent me this awesome prompt:  “One of them is MC who grew up in really bad poverty, like so bad that she didnt know of she would have food on the table or not. Even as an adult, shes still extremely cautious with money and tries to make unnecessary sacrifices just to save money”
It took a long time for me to write it, not because it isn’t amazing, but it hit too close to home lol. I’m still so happy about how these turned out, so I hope you like ‘em too! <3
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Zen
He’s really surprised you know all the tricks to save money because it comes in handy when he’s in between gigs.
Is really surprised when you tell him you don’t have dinner, though.
“But… you had dinner with us the night of the RFA party”
“Yes, but I usually don’t. It’s just a habit, I’m good with a cup of tea”.
He thinks it’s because it’s part of a strange diet, so he talks to you about the importance of eating well and that if you wanted to lose weight, you could accompany him on his morning runs.
It takes a while before you admit to him you started doing it because it meant spending less on food. You had done it when you were younger and now you were so used to it you didn’t think about changing that.
Zen’s heart breaks. He knows about having little money to go on, but he never wanted you to experience that or feel like you had to keep doing that. Sure, he didn’t have a lot of money but he didn’t want you to feel you had to stop eating in order to save money.
So, he makes sure you have dinner every night and when he’s not rehearsing, he will sit with you and eat together.
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Yoosung
One night while you’re both lying in bed, too dark to see each other’s faces, he asks you whether you prefer PlayStation or Xbox
You say you really don’t have a preference.
He keeps insisting on which made you feel more comfortable or was easier to play with.
You confess you’ve never had a gaming console
“Not even a Nintendo?” “Nope”
He has a hard time understanding it at first. He’s lived with a family that made sure he always had clean clothes, a bed and a warm meal waiting for him, how could you have gone without knowing if you were going to eat the next day.
After making some questions, trying not to make you uncomfortable, he holds you tight against his chest, promising you’ll never have to go through any of that again. That even if someday you’ll no longer together as a couple -which he hopes will never happen-, you’ll always have a place in his family.
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Jaehee
You were both getting drunk on wine Jumin had given you, laughing at everything and anything, when she had to take a call. Jaehee excused herself and left you on the living room.
When she returned, you were looking at your phone, your eyes filled with tears. Her smile fell instantly.
“MC, what happened?”
“You know this wine is over $200?” you said, amused, your eyes glued on the screen. “I was curious and google it. We’re drinking $200 wine. I… I never thought I’d ever be drinking wine that didn’t come from a box”
Jaehee sat beside you and took the phone from your hands, worried that more and more tears fell from your cheeks. She didn’t know what to say, she didn’t understand why you were crying when you had just been laughing five minutes ago.
“I can’t believe I would go from going to bed on an empty stomach to drinking expensive wine with my girlfriend. Fuck…,” you laughed dryly, not being able to stop the tears anymore.
Jaehee held your hand and squeezed it, reassuring you. You turned to her and tried to smile. 
“I love you so much” you whispered, kissing the back of her hand.
“I love you too”
Wiping your tears with your free hand, you tried to regulate your breathing in order to keep talking. You took your time in telling you about your childhood, how rough it was for you sometime and how weird did it feel to have a warm bed, a loving girlfriend and food available at any time now that you were living together.
Jaehee hadn’t experience a harsh shortage of money, but she could understand the loneliness. She held your hand as you told her about your past life and nodded at the appropriate times.
“I know you’ve been lonely and afraid. But… that part of your life is over now. You know that, right? You’ll never be on your own anymore,” she assured you with a small smile. You smiled back and then hugged her, inhaling the soft aroma of her perfume that still lingered on her neck. Yes, you weren’t alone anymore. You wouldn’t be anymore.
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Jumin
You never wanted to tell him about that, as you were afraid he wouldn’t understand.
But one day he was too busy to eat the dinner the chef had made and threw it on the trash.
He didn’t expect your gasp.
“Why-- why you would throw it out!?”
“Did you want to eat it? I thought you already had dinner”
“No, I didn’t want it, but why would you throw away food?”
“I’m sorry love, I don’t follow”
“You don’t through away food!!!”
Jumin embraced your trembling body and held you against his chest until your breathing returned to normal. He kept caressing your hair, trying to soothe you the best way he could. After a couple of minutes, he pulled away and cradled your face with his hands. He wiped away the tears with his thumbs, a concerned expression on his face.
“My love, is everything okay? Did something happen?”
After taking a deep breath, you tell him about the problems you had years ago. How you would eat leftovers from four or five days ago because you couldn’t afford to throw it away. If a vegetable or bread got mould you would cut the bad part and use the rest. Even if it’s been years without having to do that, seeing someone throwing away food still shocked you.
Jumin listened to you in silence. He promised he would never do that again and that both of you could come up with a plan on what to do with the leftovers that didn’t trigger you.
The next few days, Jumin started working a project to help people in need and then offered you to take the lead on that. You accepted and within a few months, he helped you organize a soup kitchen where you offered food. Sometimes you would go there and help out yourself and even Jumin joined you some of those times, happy to see you smiling once again.
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Saeyoung
He kind of knew about your situation when he first did his background check on you. He didn’t mention it on the chat, but rather waited until you told him about it.
He had noticed how you would always pick out the cheapest options when you went to the supermarket and who you would always negotiate for a lowe price at the farmer’s market, even after you knew how much money he owned and the expensive cars he drove.
One night, you were both laying in bed, looking at the glow-in-the-dark space stickers he had on his ceiling. After a lot silence, you took his hand, your eyes fixated on the starts. You started telling him about how hard it was growing up, the nervousness about not knowing whether you would be able to have lunch or not the next day.
After you were done, he confessed about what happened during his childhood, how his mother would get wasted and stop buying food for them. How he had to get food for Saeran and him and how the would go to bed without dinner most days of the week. How he would give his food to Saeran when he got sick as he needed to be well-fed for his body to battle the disease.
“But that part of our lives is over, okay?” he said, grabbing your chin and making you look at him. “I have a bunch of money now. Even if something happens to me, I’ll make sure you get that money so you never have to go hungry again”.
“Hey, don’t say that. Nothing’s going to happen to you. You, Saeran and me, we’re a family now. We’re stronger together, so don’t ever say that again, please. I don’t know what I’d do without you”
You kissed him on the corner of his mouth earning a smile for your boyfriend.
“Okay” Saeyoung nodded, hugging you as tightly as he could. “Stronger together, then”.
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jmoriarty-221b · 4 years ago
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New AU idea: I’ve found out that there’s some versions of the Batman comics where Tim Drake becomes Red Robin straight off the bat (he was never Robin & didn’t go to Batman) so I’m running with that
This Tim Drake doesn’t find Batman all that amazing, he recognizes Batman as a hero and as a symbol of Hope for Gotham, but he also sees him as just one man trying to make a difference, he holds more admiration towards Robin, specifically Jason’s Robin since he knows Gotham in ways Batman doesn’t, he checks on the street kids and the homeless, makes hot chocolate runs for the working girls when he can, and he is more interested in helping those in Crime Alley, a place where Batman and the previous Robin didn’t tend to patrol before Jason
And Tim has never been a normal child, there’s really no way for him to be human but there’s also no way to prove that he isn’t human, he passes the DNA tests, he doesn’t have a meta gene, he doesn’t have a mutation nor a difference in genetics, physiologically? There’s nothing to prove that Tim is anything other than human. In practice? Tim isn’t exactly limited if he cut off a limb, if he were to be shot in the head it would take approximately five minutes for him to heal back up, he can decide whether or not a wound will leave scars on his body, he can choose whether or not a mortal wound would put him in the ground permanently, most importantly, he can choose whether or not to contact his crew from the Isle that was supposed to be his home
There’s a reason as to why Tim isn’t exactly fond of heroes, after all, heroes decided to sentence countless of children yet to be born to a life of pain, suffering and poverty amongst an island filled with villains, heroes are the ones who put a barrier over the Isle that prevented its occupants from accessing their magic, heroes are the reason that his fae sisters and djinn brother and sea witch cousin and pirate friends are unable to access a part of themselves, he reason that they are unable to grow up properly and learn to control and feel and channel their magical cores, heroes are the reason for why him and his family hide behind fake names, and if it wasn’t for his parents’ quick thinking and preparations to flee then heroes would’ve been the reason he would’ve also grown up imprisoned and unable to access an integral part of himself
So no, Tim isn’t exactly impressed by the Batman
But Gotham exudes a similar signature as the one of the Isle of the Lost, making it the one place to where his parents could establish themselves undetected as the pollution would obscure their magical signatures had anyone looked for them, of course, Tim wasn’t old enough to learn how to lock down his own magical core in a way that wasn’t detrimental to himself, so he couldn’t be taken out of Gotham to accompany his parents on their numerous trips around the world, and such was his boredom that he decided to take advantage of his lack of adult supervision and explore Gotham
Having been taught about what became of the people he would’ve known as family from his parents as well as reading up every book he could in the ancient family library regarding long distance communication with magical kin, Tim ends up with a plan to meet with kids on the Isle as soon as he can, it turns out that establishing communication with the Isle requires for him to be in a part of Gotham that has the same atmosphere as the Isle, so Little Tim sets up shop in a semi secure rooftop in Crime Alley and establishes communication, needless to say he’s in for a surprise because “Oh wow why are you there Mr. Hades, you could escape any time and there’s no way those mortals could hope to contain your power, so why are you on the Isle?”
Turns out that attempting communication from a place surrounded by death and sorrow would lead to Tim establishing a magical video chat with the Lord of the Underworld, who’d’ve thunk? Anyway, Hades is literally just chilling for the next hundred years on the Isle because it’s easier to agree to mortals’ demands than obliterate them, and it’s less paperwork too so win-win, and one afternoon he’s suddenly communicating with one of the cutest little chipmunks he’s seen (kids are cute, and Tim is still a baby so he’s Tiny Cute) who introduced himself as Timothy Dwake and isn’t that just precious that the little tyke still has trouble with his r’s but how is he able to communicate with him on the Isle oh, that’s Janet’s kid, well shit guess he has a godson now (Janet had always wanted for Tim to be protected and that’s why she had been one of the few to escape the Isle, she had been a good friend back in the day so it seemed only fair for him to return the favor by looking out for Tiny Tim; it has nothing to do with Tim’s very cute face and slightly chubby cheeks that he kinda wants to pinch and his cute little lisp no Persephone I’m not attached-)
Anyway, so Tim ends up learning from his Uncle H on how to control his magical core and how to defend himself against physical and magical threats, he has a talent for using shadows to conceal himself as well as to listen in on others and gather information, if he concentrates really hard he can even manipulate shadows into solid figures, once he told this to his Uncle new training lessons began and now Tim is able to maintain his shadow constructs solid for longer periods of time as well as give them shape, over time he would learn more control over his ability and it will become easier to make weapons from shadows, his Uncle H also trains him in combat, particularly lost forms of combat from ancient civilizations
One particular night Tim wasn’t able to go to their meeting spot in Crime Alley, there was an Arkham Breakout and he wasn’t about to be caught up in that shit because could he fight off some villains and protect himself? Sure, but that would mean a possibility of getting the Batman’s attention and he’s not about to do that so staying at home it is, and now he is walking alone in the Drake gardens, he has no one to practice his fighting techniques with, no one to talk to, no one to teach him about what’s happening in the Isle, no one to teach him how to control his powers and his parents are gone for most of the year and they say that they’ll take him with them when he’s older but they’ve been saying that for years and now he’s much better at concealing his power and the King of Auradon believes he put every villain away for good so it’s not like they’re searching for his magical signature anyway so WHY WON’T HIS PARENTS TAKE HIM WITH THEM!?!?!? WHY IS HE ALWAYS LEFT ALONE!?!?!?
As he got progressively angrier, Tim hadn’t noticed how his power became stronger, how shadows grew larger, nor how the ground seemed to tremble and crack, it wasn’t until the ground literally split in front of him that he realized that maybe his power may have gotten out of hand, a bit, maybe, to be fair, he didn’t mean to summon a skeleton warrior with who he could practice his fighting with but hey, silver lining and all that, and he has something else to tell his Uncle H about in their next meeting (Hades may or may not have blessed his godson, and the blessing may or may not have given Tim some sort of control over his domains)
Anyway, eventually Tim learns how to see what’s happening in the Isle on his own from a sort of bird’s eye view, he sees what kids his age are going through and tries to find ways to alleviate the pain, he begins to talk to the kids and establishes rapport with them, he becomes friends with little Uma and Harry by bonding over swordplay, he gives Jay and Carlos tips for how to find the best hiding spots, he learns from Evie how to hide more stuff in his clothes and how to add more protective fabrics to his wardrobe, he and Mal bond over high parental expectations (she reminds him of Hades sometimes, and he thinks her eyes are a very pretty green with gold flecks sprinkled in, he may have a crush???) (Psssst, Mal likes Tim’s eyes too, she thinks it’s very pretty how they seem to change shades depending on his mood and when he’s happy they match her purple hair) *cue cuteness from these unfortunate little beans because yes*
Anyway, Tim has been working on creating a portal to a secluded part of the Isle from where he could send supplies to kids there, he was 8 years old when he started looking into this possibility after managing to make friends with the kids and now, at 13, he has finally managed to make it happen, he can only send non-living things through the portal tho, because although theoretically he Could send himself over, then he’d be stuck behind the barrier and couldn’t access his magic so that’s a big no, and he also can’t take the risk of getting someone from the Isle out because he can’t guarantee their safety (he tried with small insects and one time with a mouse; they died); the first thing he sends are medical supplies, food and bottled water, at first it’s only for his close friends, then they all establish a sort of routine and plan to get these supplies to other kids while hiding what they’re doing from their parents behind the guise of building their own gang on the Isle, Uma with the pirates and Mal with the inner city, Tim becomes their sort of advisor on important matters having seen what strategy tends to work when recruiting people as well as how to better approach street kids, he gets nicknamed the Shadow Angel for helping from behind the curtain, literally
Tim continues to learn as much as he can from his Uncle H, shadows Robin around Crime Alley, avoids gaining Batman’s attention and acquires supplies to send to the Isle three times a week from different places (he’s gotta cover his tracks, otherwise he runs the risk of getting Batman’s attention even if it’s just because the same person keeps buying food, water and medical supplies from various stores each week) but Tim has money, and he has experience regarding gangs and their recruiting and internal works (he’s helping his friends make their own gangs after all) and these people are in need of help as well, so he decides to make his own ‘gang’ by hiring people to do supply runs for him, he poses as a recruiter and gives fliers with information about his own gang and the benefits that joining will have (health insurance, dental, payed maternity leave, payed recuperation period, payed physical therapy and medical bills in case Batman decides to pop in, education is provided for anyone who wishes to get their GED and continue their education, etc); in the end, Tim keeps the Boss’ identity a secret until he reaches adulthood because no one would take a kid seriously, but he ends up amassing his own gang in Gotham while at the same time improving the life of people in poverty areas like Crime Alley and the Bowery
Of course, everything comes to a head when Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos are elected to go to school in Auradon leaving Uma as the only leader on the Isle, meanwhile Tim has been keeping tabs on Robin and gets to save Jason from Joker in Ethiopia (turns out being able to summon a skeleton army comes in handy when rescuing Robin from a deranged psychopath like Joker) so Tim is simultaneously saving Jason while still trying to remain anonymous to Batman (he’s built and maintained an entire gang in the most crime ridden part of Gotham for years, he’s not about to get involved with the Bats now)
So Tim only finds out about what happened to Mal, Evie, Jay and Carlos until they’re already in Auradon and decides you know what? Fuck it, I’m gonna meet my friends face to face, besides, he can handle maintaining a gang in Gotham, he’s sure he can handle Auradon (update: he cannot, he’s this close 🤏 to rocking someone’s shit, he proposes overtaking the kingdom twice a day, he knows they could do it, and it’ll be easy even, but it’s the paperwork that’s holding them back, meh, let Ben do the grunt work and become an advisor, at least their manipulations would be in favor of improving the life of kids in poverty unlike other people who just want to get more money from their position close to the crown, gotta love politics)
Anyway, Tim Drake does become Red Robin, gang leader and benevolent overlord of Crime Alley and the Bowery, helping Gotham citizens and being the Shadow Angel of the Isle, plotting Auradon’s downfall for fun on his slow days as well as working on taking out the kids from the Isle and setting up safe houses for them for when he and his friends figure out how to save the kids
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