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prinxlyart · 4 years

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I was just chilling in the morning and then I started to think about how Amity was mean to Willow when they were alone in the woods even though there was no one around to rat her out to her parents or something and now I can't stop thinking about how much it affected her to be forced to cut Willow off and how from the 3 Blight kids she's the one that seemed to crave her parents' approval the most despite their abuse that might not have been evident to her until meeting Luz and seeing that Eda was more caring and supportive of a kid she found in her stand than her parents of their kids.

Anyways, do you have any headcanons about how those 7 years were like for Amity?

This goes perfectly with the last one I answered so let’s dig in

(This is another Long One ™️)

Amity cried for like, a month after she was forced to cut ties with Willow. The only ones that knew this were her siblings though. She made them swear not to tell, although she didn’t really need to. They knew what their parents were like.

As time went on, Amity felt....Othered. She was different from her siblings (she wasn’t a twin nor was she naturally good at illusions). She was different from the girls she was told to be friends with (they were mean and Amity didn’t like being mean). She was different from all the other kids in her grade (she was a Blight).

This odd sort of unintentional distancing left her feeling almost numb. She didn’t know how to act around her new mean “friends”, but over time she picked up their behavior. She knew if she wanted to convince her parents that she was getting along with these girls, she’d have to act like she liked them and act like them too.

So she started imitating them. She’d watch how they made fun of anything and everything and learned to keep her own interests hidden for fear of being the next one they’d ridicule. They would even make fun of each other which was the most baffling to Amity. Were any of them actually friends?

She tried to keep her eyes off Willow. She couldn’t bear to see her, especially now that Amity’s new “friends” picked on her constantly. She couldn’t stand to see the tears in Willow’s eyes and the look of fear and shame her “friends” caused her to don.

As the years went on and her numbness settled in, she learned how to adopt her “friend’s” behaviors even when they weren’t around. Because even though they might not be around, everyone else around her still knows she’s a Blight. And Blight’s always make sure that their status as The Best is known to those around them. So she starts making comments on other people’s poor grades. Snide remarks about others’ lack of talent. Whispers with her “friends” about how so-and-so could barely be qualified as a witch. She had a whole persona to uphold after all; she made sure that no one would be able to call her out for not acting like a Blight.

The library was her safe haven. Her secret nook inside the library was even more so. Even the library was too public for her to be caught acting as anything other than a Blight. The only time she could remove the mask and just be herself was when she was either in her secret nook or, eventually, when she started volunteering to read to the little kids.

Amity cherishes her time spent reading to the little kids because she can indulge in all of her childish interests and fiction under the guise of extra credit. And the kids love when she gets so into her story-telling, so who does it hurt? Those little kids don’t know what her reputation is supposed to be and they have no expectations beyond telling them a fun story. Anyone that does know who she is will only think she’s going above and beyond in what she’s doing like she does with anything else.

She still missed Willow. Every time she saw her eating alone at lunch or hiding in her cowl hood to avoid the taunts and jeers thrown at her from their peers, it broke Amity’s heart. The only person she could be her real self with had become the school target and she was among the people that made her that target. It made her want to puke if she thought about it for too long. So she opted to try not to think about it at all. She would mindlessly listen to her friends drone on about whatever new thing had caught their attention and sit in her thoughts until her attention was drawn by the group.

There were times when she would find herself alone with Willow and she would flash back to her 7th birthday party. Her parent’s threats would echo in her ears and she would have to bite the inside of her cheek to remember to Act Like a Blight. So she kept up the facade, even if it was just the two of them. She had to do it then, of course she’d have to keep it up now.

At the point we see them in the show, Amity’s been pretending for so long that she’s starting to believe her own lies. She’s forced herself to think about only being top of her class and maintaining her family’s reputation (not like her siblings have helped on that front). She is better than Willow, at least when it comes to magic. She can barely do anything with her magic, it was visible proof. Amity had worked harder than anyone to master abominations to the degree she had. She was a Blight. Anyone that tried to say otherwise could suffer her wrath.

She gets along with her friends almost the same way she gets along with her siblings: be civil and relatively friendly in the presence of others and then complain about whatever nonsense they did in her diary. She wishes she had another actual person to talk to about all this, but her “friends” were as fake as the relationships she had with them and as far as she knew, none of them were being threatened by their parents to interact with one another. Maybe Skara? Potentially Boscha? But Boscha has been so into her role as Top Bully for as long as Amity’s known her and she hardly thinks her parents are coercing her into acting so horribly.

When she sees Willow start hanging out with the Illusion track kid (augustus, she finds out from her siblings; he transferred to their home room after being bumped up a couple grades), Amity’s heart drops entirely. She’s officially been replaced. Despite the years of distance and tormenting, Amity wanted to believe that somehow, Willow would find it in her to forgive her and they could be friends again. But Willow’s moved on and made a new best friend. She deserves to.

Somehow it hurts even more when Luz starts attending Hexside. Amity actually likes Luz. She hasn’t actually liked another person since, well, Willow. And now Luz attending Hexside and not being ashamed of being friends with Willow makes her heart ache in a way it hadn’t for a few years. Willow’s smiling. Laughing. Sure, that Augustus kid makes her smile too, but it’s much different with Luz around. With Luz by her side, Willow was coming out of the shell she’d built for herself to protect herself from all the mockery Amity’s friends encouraged the rest of the school to throw at her. It was an odd feeling of melancholy watching them be best friends in the halls of Hexside; Amity was happy that Willow was happy, that she finally found someone to help her out of that shell Amity was forced to make her build. But it stung just as much because it wasn’t her that was able to make Willow smile and laugh like that. Amity hadn’t been able to do that for Willow since they were small.

She truly didn’t mean to ruin Willow’s memories. But she also wasn’t trying to maintain her reputation when she burned the memory of her 7th birthday. No, Amity was sick to her stomach of the years of watching Willow suffer at Amity’s own hands. If she could just. Remove herself from that memory? Remove the fact that it was Amity that caused her so much pain? Amity would much rather Willow forget her entire existence than live with that pain. She half wished she could do the same to herself, but she didn’t have much chance to dwell on it before she realized she somehow had set all of Willow’s memories on fire.

When she was able to finally admit to Willow the whole truth of the reason she ruined their friendship when they were small in Willow’s memory? It felt like the weight of the Titan had been lifted off her shoulders. It didn’t excuse her actions, not by a long shot, but at least now Willow knew it wasn’t because Amity suddenly stopped liking her. Amity never stopped liking her. But to a 7-year-old, she didn’t feel as though she had any choice in the threat her parents posed and then grew up with that same fear looming over her shoulder. She didn’t know how to take it back.

Amity didn’t know what she did to deserve Luz popping into her life from a pot of Abomination goo. What she did know is that the decision she’d made when she was 7 felt irreversible her entire life up until Luz showed up. Luz, who didn’t judge her by her past actions or her fake identity, who liked Azura and was an even bigger nerd about it than Amity, who forgave Amity’s awful behavior when she tried to get her dissected and again at the Covention and then tried so desperately to become her friend; Amity didn’t understand how Luz could be so understanding and not hold Amity’s shitty behavior against her, but she’s so grateful that she didn’t because now she’s pivoted. Her whole life has made a sharp turn into making decisions for herself and not just for her family’s name.

And somehow, Luz managed to give Amity the second chance she never thought she’d get in her life: a second chance to be a better friend to Willow. And she’s so glad she took that chance.

Tl;dr: it’s fuckin ROUGH but like, dissociation, yknow? Works wonders.

#prinxly inquiries #anonymous #the owl house #amity blight #willow park #luz noceda #toh headcanons #toh character study #Amity has a Bad Time™️ -megalovania theme plays-#me gently breakdancing: What’s wrong son?

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sineala · 3 years

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Hey! I know you've received asks about long distance relationships before but I hope you don't mind if I ask, too :) The thing is a bit complicated and I need some advice, and your story is just so beautiful I'm like, "please adopt me!!" There's this person on tumblr whom I have a crush on, sort of: we've never actually interacted because I don't have a tumblr account but she posts a lot of things I love and info on herself too, so I feel like I know her. 1/2

2/2 I'm ace and never dated, which is a problem because I don't really know what to do, and I'm also very shy, but... the question is... what can I do? i can't just send her a message and say, "I have a crush on you, but you don't know anything of me. Can we try to date?" But on the other hand I really don't know how to start talking to her... :( sorry, I'm just an awkward human being... and thank you for listening to my problems! But of course feel free to ignore me. Take care ❤️

Okay. Wow. This is a lot, anon. I had to think for a while about how to say this as nicely as I possibly can, but: I don't think you should do what you're asking me how to do. At all. I don't think your feelings are bad or wrong or invalid, and I get why you feel the way you do, but there's really not a good, kind, or fair way to get the outcome that you want. You can try to make friends with her if you legitimately want to be friends with her, but you can't be friends with her for the purpose of dating her.

I have more to say under the Read More.

You might find it helpful to read something about the concept of parasocial relationships. The tl;dr version is that parasocial relationships are relationships that an audience experiences with people like celebrities or performers. You, the audience member, don't actually interact personally with the person you have this parasocial relationship with -- everything you know about them is because you actually know the persona they are adopting for public consumption, rather than the person themselves -- but you feel like you know them anyway.

I'm not saying that parasocial relationships are bad. They can be good! They can be positive! I'm pretty sure we all have them. Heck, media fandom is basically us having massive numbers of parasocial relationships with fictional characters! Parasocial relationships can be great and inspiring! Having a favorite character or a favorite celebrity can make you really happy! Do I have parasocial relationships too? Yeah, sure, you bet. The Goodreads review I have that has garnered the most likes is the one that is approximately 50% me explaining that I have a giant crush on Rachel Maddow. I have never met Rachel Maddow. I obviously do not know the real Rachel Maddow, and I would not want to actually for-real date her even if both of us were single. I can just be happy reading her books and watching her TV show. There's a video game I like to play, Slay The Spire, and I have a favorite Slay The Spire streamer on Twitch, and at this point I have probably watched hundreds of hours of this dude playing video games, and because of that, I know a lot of random facts about this guy's life. Does he seem like he'd be cool to hang out with? Yeah, sure. Have I ever interacted with him in any way other than subscribing to his YouTube channel? Nope! I don't even have a Twitch account! Do I know him as a person? Absolutely not.

I'm saying all this because social media is a place you can have parasocial relationships, and the relationship you have with this Tumblr user is parasocial. (Incidentally, the relationship you have with me is also parasocial; I mention this because I feel like you should know that asking me to adopt you is coming on a little too strong, as an opening interaction. I don't mean to make you feel bad about this, and I'm sorry if I have, but since you're asking about how to interact with people you've never spoken to before, you should probably know that.)

It basically comes down to this: you don't actually know this person, but you feel like you do because you've read her Tumblr. I'm not saying that's a bad thing. That's not a criticism. That's not a value judgment. I mean, technically, you don't know me either. That's just not the kind of relationship that I have with you, or that you have with her. It's parasocial, not reciprocal. And you really need to keep that in mind.

Can you form reciprocal relationships with people you have parasocial relationships with? I mean, yeah, maybe, depending on the person. And the answer to how you do that is basically the answer to the question "how do you make friends with people?" -- and it seems like you might like advice about that, since you said you were shy, You talk to someone about mutual interests that you both enjoy. You hang out. Maybe in RL in Better Times you meet up and go get lunch together. These days on the internet I make most of my internet friends by (1) squeeing back and forth at them about whatever fic they wrote and clogging up their AO3 comments until we take it to email, (2) yelling about fandom on Discord until we mutually discover we are like-minded enough to start yelling at each other in DMs directly, and (3) murdering them in games of Among Us and then lying about it. (Games are a bonding experience.)

You listen well, you share some things about yourself because that's what friends do and if the other person wants to be your friend they will share things back -- or maybe they will share things first, if they decide they want to be friends first. This is how we humans like to bond with each other. I feel like I am not very good at this friend-making thing, so I am not sure I am the best person to ask for tips. But that is basically how it works.

Can you be friends with this person? Maybe. I don't know. You can try. But what I do know is that you absolutely should not try to be friends with her with the intention of dating her. People don't like when they think someone is friends with them because they want something from them, and, generally, people really really don't like when someone is friends with them when the thing they want from them is a romantic relationship. You know how you hear people (usually straight guys) talk about being "friendzoned?" They're upset because they're friends with a woman they want to date and the woman sees them as only a friend. That is the realm your proposed interaction is adjacent to, and that is not a good place to be. Don't be like one of those guys.

I think you should ask yourself if you would be happy being friends with this person if there were zero possibility of romance with her. If you would be happy being just friends. And be honest with yourself. If, after some soul-searching, you decide that, yeah, you would feel 100% satisfied just being her friend if nothing else ever happened (and you have to honestly believe this), then and only then should you try talking to her.

What should you talk about? I don't know; you must have something in common. I have made friends with people because we both enjoyed Avengers volume 3 and classic Star Trek. I made friends with a bunch of people in college because we all liked to watch Buffy the Vampire Slayer and Smallville. I have made friends with people because I told them I liked the book they were reading or the pins on their backpack. I have made friends with people because we both were in the same science-fiction online roleplaying group as teenagers and it turned out twenty years later we were sharing a fandom, we now lived in the same state, and we also liked the same folk music! I made friends with my wife because I wanted to complain to her about a Due South fanfic I was reading and she didn't like it either and then I was translating a text for class that was in Ancient Egyptian and the footnotes were in German and I didn't know German (and still don't) but I knew she did. At that point I had absolutely no clue there would be any romance involved there; I just thought she was really cool and she seemed to think I was cool and then we just kept talking.

So, y'know, maybe, if you just want to be her friend, you can try to do that. You can find out if you actually like her as an actual, real person. But you have to want to just be friends.

But if you think you'd be unhappy if you were just friends with her, you absolutely should not try to be friends with her, because that would be misrepresenting what you want and it would also be very unfair to her.

(Edited to add: I guess the other option is that you could, in fact, just be like, “Hey, I have a crush on you,” which would be both honest and forthright -- but I feel like that has a very, very low chance of working. Hence all the other advice.)

I hope that helps.

#Anonymous #replies

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tisfan · 4 years

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Copied from Facebook; verified by a friend

From Joe Morice, daughters in 8th & 10th grade in Fairfax County Public Schools' Centreville Pyramid:

To our fellow FCPS families—this is it gang: 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

Like all of you, I’ve seen my feed become a flood of anxiety and faux expertise. You’ll get no presumption of expertise here. This is how I am looking at and considering this issue and the positions people have taken in my feed and in the hundred or so FCPS discussion groups that have popped up. The lead comments in quotes are taken directly from my feed and those boards. Sometimes I try to rationalize them. Sometimes I’m just punching back at the void.

Full disclosure, we initially chose the 2 days option and are now having serious reservations. As I consider the positions and arguments I see in my feed, these are where my mind goes. Of note, when I started working on this piece at 12:19 PM today the COVID death tally in the United States stood at 133,420.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

This was the principle reason for our 2 days decision. As I think more on it though, what do we think ‘social’ will look like? There aren’t going to be any lunch table groups, any lockers, any recess games, any study halls, any sitting next to friends, any talking to people in the hallway, any dances. All of that is off the menu. So, when we say that we want the kids to benefit from the social experience, what are we deluding ourselves into thinking in-building socialization will actually look like in the Fall?

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

Left behind who? The entire country is grappling with the same issue, leaving all children in the same quagmire. Who exactly would they be behind? I believe the rhetorical answer to that is “They’ll be behind where they should be,” to which I’ll counter that “where they should be” is a fictional goal post that we as a society have taken as gospel because it maps to standardized tests which are used to grade schools and counties as they chase funding.

“Classrooms are safe.”

At the current distancing guidelines from FCPS middle and high schools would have no more than 12 people (teachers + students) in a classroom (I acknowledge this number may change as FCPS considers the Commonwealth’s 3 ft with a mask vs. 6 ft position, noting that FCPS is all mask regardless of the distance). For the purpose of this discussion we’ll say classes run 45 minutes.

I posed the following question to 40 people today, representing professional and management roles in corporations, government agencies, and military commands: “Would your company or command have a 12 person, 45 minute meeting in a conference room?”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”

“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”

“Oh hell no.”

“No absolutely not.”

“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”

“Something of that size would be virtual.”

We do not even consider putting our office employees into the same situation we are contemplating putting our children into. And let’s drive this point home: there are instances here when commanding officers will not put soldiers, ACTUAL SOLDIERS, into the kind of indoor environment we’re contemplating for our children. For me this is as close to a ‘kill shot’ argument as there is in this entire debate. How do we work from home because buildings with recycled air are not safe, because we don’t trust other people to not spread the virus, and then with the same breath send our children into buildings?

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

First, conceding we’re an increasingly morally bankrupt society, but when did we start talking about children’s lives, or anyone’s lives, like this? This how the villain in movies talks about mortality, usually 10-15 minutes before the good guy kills him.

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

FCPS has 189,000 children. .0016 of that is 302. 302 dead children are the Calvary Hill you’re erecting your argument on. So, let’s agree to do this: stop presenting this as a data point. If this is your argument, I challenge you to have courage equal to your conviction. Go ahead, plant a flag on the internet and say, “Only 302 children will die.” No one will. That’s the kind action on social media that gets you fired from your job. And I trust our social media enclave isn’t so careless and irresponsible with life that it would even, for even a millisecond, enter any of your minds to make such an argument.

Considered another way: You’re presented with a bag with 189,000 $1 bills. You’re told that in the bag are 302 random bills, they look and feel just like all the others, but each one of those bills will kill you. Do you take the money out of the bag?

Same argument, applied to the 12,487 teachers in FCPS (per Wikipedia), using the ‘children’s multiplier’ of .0016 (all of us understanding the adult mortality rate is higher). That’s 20 teachers. That’s the number you’re talking about. It’s very easy to sit behind a keyboard and diminish and dismiss the risk you’re advocating other people assume. Take a breath and think about that.

If you want to advocate for 2 days a week, look, I’m looking for someone to convince me. But please, for the love of God, drop things like this from your argument. Because the people I know who’ve said things like this, I know they’re better people than this. They’re good people under incredible stress who let things slip out as their frustration boils over. So, please do the right thing and move on from this, because one potential outcome is that one day, you’re going to have to stand in front of St. Peter and answer for this, and that’s not going to be conversation you enjoy.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

One can reasonably argue that, due to the school closures in March, children have had the least EXPOSURE to COVID. In other words, closing schools was the one pandemic mitigation action we took that worked. There can be no discussion of the rate of diagnosis within children without also acknowledging they were among our fastest and most quarantined people. Put another way, you cannot cite the effect without acknowledging the cause.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

And when you mention the flu, do you mean the disease that, if you’re suspected of having it, everyone, literally everyone in the country tells you stay the f- away from other people? You mean the one where parents are pretty sure their kids have it but send them to school anyway because they have a meeting that day, the one that every year causes massive f-ing outbreaks in schools because schools are petri dishes and it causes kids to miss weeks of school and leaves them out of sports and band for a month? That one? Because you’re right - the flu kills people every year. It does, but you’re ignoring the why. It’s because there are people who are a--holes who don’t care about infecting other people. In that regard it’s a perfect comparison to COVID.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

You’re confusing “release from the hospital” and “no longer infected” with “recovered.” I’m fortunate to only know two people who have had COVID. One my age and one my dad’s age. The one my age described it as “absolute hell” and although no longer infected cannot breathe right. The one my dad’s age was in the hospital for 13 weeks, had to have a trach ring put in because she could no longer be on a ventilator, and upon finally getting home and being faced with incalculable time in rehab told my mother, “I wish I had died.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

You already live your life in fear. For your health, your family’s health, your job, your retirement, terrorists, extremists, one political party or the other being in power, the new neighbors, an unexpected home repair, the next sunrise. What you meant to say was, “I’m not prepared to add ANOTHER fear,” and I’ve got news for you: that ship has sailed. It’s too late. There are two kinds of people, and only two: those that admit they’re afraid, and those that are lying to themselves about it.

As to the fear argument, fear is the reason you wait up when your kids stay out late, it’s the reason you tell your kids not to dive in the shallow water, to look both ways before crossing the road. Fear is the respect for the wide world that we teach our children. Except in this instance, for reasons no one has been able to explain to me yet.

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

I will summarize my view of the School Board thusly: if the 12 of you aren’t getting into a room together because it represents a risk, don’t tell me it’s OK for our kids. I understand your arguments, that we need the 2 days option for parents who can’t work from home, kids who don’t have internet or computer access, kids who needs meals from the school system, kids who need extra support to learn, and most tragically for kids who are at greater risk of abuse by being home. All very serious, all very real issues, all heartbreaking. No argument.

But you must first lead by example. Because you’re failing when it comes to optics. All your meetings are online. What our children see is all of you on a Zoom telling them it’s OK for them to be exactly where you aren’t. I understand you’re not PR people, but you really should think about hiring some.

“I talked it over with my kids.”

Let’s put aside for a moment the concept of adults effectively deferring this decision to children, the same children who will continue to stuff things into a full trash can rather than change it out. Yes, those hygienic children.

Listen, my 15 year old daughter wants a sport car, which she’s not getting next year because it would be dangerous to her and to others. Those kinds of decisions are our job. We step in and decide as parents, we don’t let them expose themselves to risks because their still developing and screen addicted brains narrow their understanding of cause and effect.

We as parents and adults serve to make difficult decisions. Sometimes those are in the form of lessons, where we try to steer kids towards the right answer and are willing to let them make a mistake in the hopes of teaching better decision making the next time around. This is not one of those moments. The stakes are too high for that. This is a “the adults are talking” moment. Kids are not mature enough for this moment. That is not an attack on your child. It is a broad statement about all children. It is true of your children and it was true when we were children. We need to be doing that thinking here, and “Johnny wants to see Bobby at school” cannot be the prevailing element in the equation.

“The teachers need to do their job.”

How is it that the same society which abruptly shifted to virtual students only three months ago, and offered glowing endorsements of teachers stating, “we finally understand how difficult your job is,” has now shifted to “screw you, do your job.” There are myriad problems with that position but for the purposes of this piece let’s simply go with, “You’re not looking for a teacher, you’re looking for the babysitter you feel your property tax payment entitles you to.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

(Eye roll) Per the Insurance Institute for Highway Safety (IIHS), the U.S. see approximately 36,000 auto fatalities a year. Again, there have been 133,420 COVID deaths in the United States through 12:09 July 10, 2020. So no, they do not have a great chance of being killed in a car accident.

And, if you want to take the actual environment into consideration, the odds of a teacher being killed in a car accident in their classroom, you know, the environment we’re actually talking about, that’s right around 0%.

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

(Deep breath) A grocery store worker, who absolutely risks exposure, has either six feet of space or a plexiglass shield between them and individual adult customers who can grasp their own mortality whose transactions can be completed in moments, in a 40,000 SF space.

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

(Deep breaths) Many teachers are opting to be remote. That is not a vacation. They’re requesting to do their job at a safer site. Just like many, many people who work in buildings with recycled air have done. And likely the building you’re not going into has a newer and better serviced air system than our schools.

Of greater interest to me is the number of teachers choosing the 100% virtual option for their children. The people who spend the most time in the buildings are the same ones electing not to send their children into those buildings. That’s something I pay attention to.

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

I truly, deeply respect that honesty. Truth be told, both arguments have crossed my mind. Pre COVID, I routinely worked from home 1 – 2 days a week. The solace was nice. When I was in the office, I had an actual office, a room with a door I could close, where I could focus. During the quarantine that hasn’t always been the case. I’ve been frustrated, I’ve been short, I’ve gone to just take a drive and get the hell away for a moment and been disgusted when one of the kids sees me and asks me to come for a ride, robbing me of those minutes of silence. You want to hear silence. I get it. I really, really do.

Here’s another version of that, admittedly extreme. What if one of our kids becomes one of the 302? What’s that silence going to sound like? What if you have one of those matted frames where you add the kid’s school picture every year? What if you don’t get to finish the pictures?

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

A lot of the arguments I hear people making for the 2 days sound like we’re trying to talk ourselves into ignoring our instincts, they are almost exclusively, “We’re doing 2 days, but…”. There’s a fantastic book by Gavin de Becker, The Gift of Fear, which I’ll minimize for you thusly: your gut instinct is a hardwired part of your brain and you should listen to it. In the introduction he talks about elevators, and how, of all living things, humans are the only ones that would voluntarily get into a soundproof steel box with a potential predator just so they could skip a flight of stairs.

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day.

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earliebirb · 4 years

Note

From the prompt list: 5) “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” For stevetony w/jealous steve, please, if you feel up for it? ☺️

Hi there, thank you for the prompt and sorry for the long wait!

This is 2k of no powers/bodyguard au that can be read as a standalone fic or a prequel to this fic of mine, as the two fics are set in the same universe. I feel obligated to warn you that although this one is fluffy, the linked fic contains angst with an unhappy ending (which I may or may not end up fixing with a happy ending eventually). I didn’t even plan to add another fic in the same universe, and yet here we are. I just love the concept of young heir!tony and bodyguard!steve too much, I guess.

Enjoy! :)

TL;DR: click here for part 2 of this no powers/bodyguard au (warning: linked fic contains unhappy ending.)

a fool for you

steve/tony, fluff, au: no powers, bodyguard!steve, young!tony, 2204 words

(5 from this list)

“It’s so hot out here,” Tony groans, using the collar of his shirt to fan himself.

“Well, would you rather be in there with them?” Pepper nods at the general direction of the mansion, where he knows his and Pepper’s parents are still sitting together in the dining room.

Tony makes a face. “No.”

He wants to be as far away from them as possible.

The two of them escaped to the garden just before dessert. This has become a routine of some sort, something they always do during the monthly lunches their parents insist on having ever since they arranged their marriage contract. Tony knows the only reason they are allowed to get away with it is because their parents think that it’s good for Tony and Pepper to spend some time alone, to get to know each other before their marriage.

An arranged marriage. Seriously, Tony’s life is one huge cosmic joke.

Don’t get him wrong; Tony adores Pepper. She is one of his best friends and they have practically known each other since they were in diapers, but they definitely don’t see each other that way. Pepper has little to no interest in dating, and Tony is—

Well, Tony’s heart has been very much occupied by someone else for quite some time now.

“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. I’m telling you, Pep, it’s so hard to figure him out. I just never know what he’s thinking.” Tony leans back in his seat with a sigh, the rigid wood of the bench digging into his spine.

“He is so gone on you, it’s ridiculous.” Pepper fans herself with a folding fan. As usual, Pepper looks well put together despite the weather, dressed in a white eyelet dress that looks lovely on her and her hair up in a neat ponytail.

“But how can you tell?”

“I just can. Trust me. Have I ever let you down?”

“Well, no, but…” Tony trails off, looking into the distance. His eyes land on Steve, who is stationed far away from the bench Tony and Pepper are sitting on, with rows and rows of the red and yellow tulips of the Potts family estate’s garden separating the distance between them.

His blond hair gleams golden under the scorching heat of the sun. The man is standing straight, hands clasped in front of him. Tony wonders if Steve has always had perfect posture or if it is something he cultivated in his training as a bodyguard. Steve must also be suffering under the heat, dressed in the mandatory dress code for bodyguards of the Stark family—a black and white suit that fits him like a dream. Tony is sitting on a bench under the shade of an umbrella, and even his shirt is already sticking unpleasantly to the skin of his back, damp with sweat.

“Just look at him. He’s always so proper and polite,” Tony grumbles.

“Well, can you blame him? It is his job.”

Tony pouts at that, even as he knows that Pepper is right, like she always is. It’s just that he knows how improper and impolite Steve can be. Steve is hilarious when he wants to be; he has demonstrated his dry humor multiple times in front of Tony. Granted, it is usually only on display when he is in the company of Tony and the other guys in the security detail with no one else around or when he and Tony are alone. The thought of those moments brings a smile to Tony’s lips. Those secret moments are when Steve allows himself to relax, his real personality bleeding into his job persona.

He turns to watch Steve again. Steve is looking down at the ground, a hand pressed to the earpiece Tony knows he wears in his left ear. Tony watches as Steve nods almost imperceptibly before raising his wrist to his lips, speaking to the microphone resting inside his sleeve. When he finishes, he lowers his wrist back to his side. He looks up and meets Tony’s eyes by accident.

Tony stills and stops breathing.

Steve holds his gaze for a few moments before looking away almost immediately, reverting back to his previous posture.

Tony slumps in his seat, dejected. Pepper slaps his back with her folded fan and Tony yelps, straightening his back immediately.

“Don’t slouch. What time is the party again?”

“Seven, but you know me. I like to be fashionably late. Besides, no one can say anything about me being late tonight because I am the birthday boy. The party only starts when I arrive. Then again, that is also true for any other party.” Tony winks. “What did you get me?”

Pepper shrugs, not giving him an answer.

Tony narrows his eyes before gasping dramatically, a hand on his chest. “Pepper Pot, did you even get me anything?”

Pepper rolls her eyes.

“Why?” Pepper deadpans. “Is it your birthday?”

***

“I’ve called Happy. Car will be here in fifteen,” Bucky says as he arrives at Steve’s side. Steve nods.

Anthony Stark and Virginia Potts are casually chatting on a bench in the distance, looking like two completely normal 24-year-olds instead of the heirs to two of the most powerful companies in the world, Stark Industries and Potts Enterprises. With the way Stark behaves sometimes, Bucky tends to forget that the man has a net worth of a couple billion dollars.

Catching sight of the man behind them, Bucky snickers. Sam looks calm and collected as he stands behind the bench to hold an umbrella over Stark and Potts’ heads, but Bucky knows that he is going to complain about his sore arm to Bucky later.

“Look at Wilson. Poor bastard. He hates umbrella duty.” Bucky’s smirk widens an inch when he catches Sam’s gaze, the latter widening his eyes dramatically. “Also, what’s with the sudden switch? I know it’s your turn for umbrella duty today and you never give up umbrella duty ‘cause it gives you a chance to ogle at Stark’s ass.”

Bucky turns to face Steve when his friend and commander-in-chief says nothing in reply. Steve always reprimands him whenever Bucky teases him about his gigantic crush on Tony Stark, something about “protocol” and Bucky being “inappropriate”.

Steve is staring at Stark and Potts with unbridled focus. To the untrained eye, it may look like Steve is just doing his job of guarding his client but Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed and his jaw is doing The Clench and—

“Wait a minute, are you jealous?” Bucky gasps, part scandalized, part incredulous. “Is that why you asked Wilson to switch with you?”

Steve’s head snaps upright and he turns to Bucky with wide eyes.

“No,” he says, sounding equally as scandalized, but the way his eyes slide away as soon as they meet Bucky’s is telling. Ever since he was little, Steve has always been a terrible liar.

“Stevie.” Bucky gawks at him, shaking his head in disbelief. “I’ve never seen you moon over someone like this before. You weren’t even this bad with Peggy Carter back in high school.”

“I’m not mooning over anyone,” Steve says through gritted teeth. “Fix your posture.”

Bucky snorts, but clasps his hands in front of him obediently.

“I keep telling you, you should tell him how you feel.”

“Stop talking nonsense. It’s against protocol,” Steve says, eyes once again staring longingly at Stark, who is listening attentively to whatever Potts is saying.

Bucky rolls his eyes. “As if Stark ever cared about that.”

Just when Bucky thinks that the conversation is dead, just like the million other times Steve has shut Bucky down whenever he attempts to talk some sense into his best friend, Steve says in a quiet voice:

“Besides… they’re engaged.”

Bucky sighs in exasperation, refusing the increasingly strong urge to bash his own head against the nearest tree. They have gone over this exact problem countless of times.

He loves Steve like a brother, but never let it be said that the man is not stubborn.

Bucky opens his mouth to protest some more, but then Happy announces that he is entering the estate’s premises and Steve begins barking orders into his microphone to prepare the team for mobilization.

***

Tony loosens the tie around his neck as he steps into his bedroom, sighing in relief. If it were up to him he would have left the party hours ago, but alas, being the birthday boy comes with its own responsibilities. The older he gets, the more his birthday feels less like a day to celebrate his birth and more like a day to mingle with his father’s business associates. The fact that his glad-handing skills have practically been hardwired into him by now is his only saving grace. Well, that and…

Turning around, he finds Steve standing at the doorway of his bedroom. Tony waits for the obligatory ‘Would that be all, Mr. Stark?’ and is surprised when it doesn’t come immediately. Having Steve by his side throughout the entire night was Tony’s favorite part about his birthday bash. Tony absolutely lives for the minute twitches of Steve’s lips whenever Tony whispers witty quips and insults about various high-profile people mingling around him at every public event, and tonight was no exception.

As much as Tony enjoys Steve’s company, however, he is also well aware that Steve must be exhausted. After all, as tiring as the event was for Tony, it was still his birthday party. Steve, on the other hand, was dutifully doing his job of shadowing Tony and looking out for potential threats.

Tony is about to dismiss him for the night when he is suddenly struck with the realization that Steve is... hovering.

“Steve?”

“Sir,” Steve says in reply, back straightening immediately. His eyes are wide and he opens his mouth once before closing it again without saying a word. He looks like he has something to say and is struggling to work out a way to say it.

“Tony,” Tony corrects automatically as there is no one else in the room but them, but otherwise he says nothing, waiting patiently for Steve to gather his thoughts.

“Tony, I…” Steve trails off. Tony watches in amazement as Steve’s fists clench and unclench at his side, a rare sight for a person who is usually so graceful and poised. He lurches forward, walking towards Tony before stopping in front of him.

With his eyes trained on the floor, Steve fishes out a slim black box from his breast pocket and holds it out to Tony.

Tony’s breath catches in his throat. “Is this…?”

Steve looks up and finally meets his eyes, jaw clenched in determination.

“Happy birthday, Tony.”

Tony reaches out to take the box, his fingers brushing Steve’s.

“Can I open it?”

Steve nods with a swallow. Gazing down at the box, Tony opens it carefully and takes a deep breath the second he sees what is lying inside—a beautiful red tie, made of some soft fabric that seems to gleam under the moonlight streaming in through the windows of Tony’s bedroom. He unfolds it to admire the tie in its entirety.

Something flutters in his stomach when he sees the gold monogram sewn into the tip of the necktie. Tony traces the initials ‘A. E. S.’ reverently with his index finger.

“Steve.”

“Do you… like it?” Steve asks, watching Tony with trepidation.

Tony beams at him. “I love it. Thank you.”

A reluctant smile appears on Steve’s face, even as the man scratches the back of his neck with an air of bashfulness.

“I know it’s not much and I know you’ve already received lots of gifts. Better and more expensive ones. It certainly is no golden cufflinks, but I—”

That gets Tony’s attention.

“Golden cufflinks?”

“Uh, I mean— I might have seen, um, the golden cufflinks Ms. Potts got you, and I know—”

Tony barks out a surprised laugh, realization dawning.

Confusion takes over Steve’s face, his eyebrows furrowing adorably.

“Why are you laughing?”

Tony takes a step closer to Steve, grabbing the knot of Steve’s tie and pulling Steve down to his height.

Steve’s blue eyes are staring back at him, pupils blown wide with shock. Tony gazes at him intently, lips tugged upwards in a helpless smile as his heart swells with affection.

“You’re so cute when you’re jealous, you know that?” Tony says, standing on tiptoe to plant a soft kiss on Steve’s forehead. He releases Steve afterwards, stepping backwards.

Steve proceeds to stare at him like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car, mouth ajar and breath coming out in ragged pants. A delightful blush blooms on his cheeks.

Tony bites his lower lip to stop himself from laughing. Then he raises his eyebrows, saying:

“Well, you’re dismissed. Thank you for the birthday gift.”

Tony watches in amusement as Steve flounders to regain his composure. Eventually, he gives Tony a curt nod before leaving without a word, blush still high on his cheeks.

The moment the door closes behind Steve, Tony throws himself onto his bed and lets out a stupidly hysterical giggle into his pillow, feeling giddy with joy.

He makes a mental note to send Pepper some flowers in the morning.

#stevetony #stevetony fic #stony #stony fic #superhusbands #steve/tony #steve x tony #mine #earl wrote something #earl answers #user: talktonytome #series: bodyguard au

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brynfelan · 3 years

Note

“I don’t mind” with kuzuhina if you’re up for it! 👀

👀 you know it’s kuzuhina brainrot hours up in here.

-non!despair AU because I’m already putting my boys through so much in WCN. Let’s just pretend that Junko got yeeted, or was never Ultimate Despair or something, because I’m too tired to come up with a plot reason as to why all that shit never happened. -in this specific version of no despair, hajime went through with the kamakura project, but his parents ended up finding out everything and threatened to completely ruin hope’s peak’s reputation by coming out with it publicly if they didn’t get their kid back (oddly enough, just after he’d gotten luck. Funny how that works out huh?) -it was haime’s choice to join the main course, mostly because he wanted to apologise to chiaki for disappearing for like two months. -tl;dr, hajime is still hajime just with a few random talents thrown in for good measure

Impossible thing 1: Hajime Hinata was an ex-Reserve Course student that had found himself as a second-year in the Main course.

Everybody was told that he would have joined in their first year, but that he got sick and needed to recover from surgery. While not technically a full lie, that certainly didn’t encompass the whole truth. Chiaki didn’t believe that was the end for a second, since she’d known him before. That afternoon had consisted of an incredibly awkward Hajime explaining that he maybe-sorta-kinda underwent some pretty drastic neurological surgery to artificially implant talent into him to act as the Ultimate Hope, but that his parents had stopped it before it went too far and that’s why he’d disappeared off the face of the Earth for two whole months. Whoops, sorry, I’ll never do it again, but hey now we’re classmates! Isn’t that great?

Fuyuhiko too wasn’t convinced by the story either, but he didn’t say anything at the time. Instead, he’d just made the most direct and nearly painful eye contact that Hajime had ever been on the receiving end of, just to let him know that he knew it was all bullshit.

Impossible thing 2: In the months that he’d been in the Main Course, he’d found himself becoming friends with just about everybody.

Hajime had fallen in line with his classmates surprisingly easily. Even with Fuyuhiko who was all rough edges and cursing. Actually, if he thought about it, besides Chiaki he probably got along with him the best. The two of them talked pretty often, even exchanging phone numbers and continuing to talk after classes were over. A few times, he’d gone out to the arcade with Fuyuhiko and the two of them had eaten their weight’s worth in sweets (a story he was absolutely not allowed to tell anybody else, on pain of death via Yakuza).

Outside of his friendship with Fuyuhiko, he’d become the de-facto counsellor of the class. It made sense, he was pretty sure that Ultimate Counsellor was a talent he had, but he hadn’t expected it to come up so often. Nearly everybody came to him with their problems, and he helped them figure out the right answer. He never told them what to do, just asked questions that led to an agreeable outcome. Which is pretty much what a counsellor does, so he’d taken the role in stride.

Impossible thing 3: He had the biggest, most terrifying crush on Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu.

Okay, maybe that one wasn’t necessarily impossible, but it had certainly taken a few gaming sessions with Chiaki to work through. He came to realise it whilst making plans with Fuyuhiko in class, and Kazuichi had butted his head in to ask them about their “date”. Both him and Fuyuhiko had turned cherry-red, the latter spluttering out that it “wasn’t any of your fucking business, Soda” – cut to approximately three days of him having a crisis in the general direction of Chiaki while she played a new video game and talked it out with him.

After that, he’d promptly decided to die with his feelings lest he completely ruin that friendship and have to deal with it for another year in the same class as Fuyuhiko. If that happened, he would be getting a one-way ticket back into the neurologist’s office and actually getting all of his personality and memories removed, even if it had to be done via a spoon and some willpower.

Impossible thing 4: Actually, that had been a date, and now he had to go through the process of meeting Fuyuhiko’s sister in order to get “approved”.

He was sure that had at least half-been a joke, but it had hit him like a ton of bricks nonetheless. Hadn’t Natsumi been in his class in the reserve course? That was a lot to unpack, and he definitely had to put all his cards on the table. He felt bad lying anyway, but he was absolutely-100%-no-shadow-of-a-doubt sure that Natsumi wouldn’t put up with a single ounce of his shit if he tried to lie his way out of it. Which, incidentally, is how he found himself in an empty classroom with Fuyuhiko at lunch, after saying he had something important to tell him.

There was no good way to go about this. If it had been awkward with Chiaki, it was going to be a thousand times more awkward with Fuyuhiko. There was no way he could just say “hey, by the way, while I didn’t technically lie about recovering from surgery, I wasn’t sick at all! In fact, this academy was doing some crazy experiments on my brain, and now I have talent to boot!”, so instead he was stuttering and trying to find the correct words to say.

“I, uh, haven’t told you the whole truth about why I’m here. Like, at Hope’s Peak, not in this classroom,” Hajime felt himself getting red in the face, “Obviously. You know how they said I was recovering from surgery?”

“That bullshit story? C’mon, I don’t care why you’re here, I’m just glad that you are. Finally got the class to stop breathing down my neck about why me and Peko aren’t dating.”

So far so not-terrible.

“Well uh, yeah. It wasn’t all bullshit. I was recovering from surgery,” The redness in his face was definitely getting worse, “N-not that I’m sick or anything! It’s just that I was a Reserve student last year, and I got offered a place in the Main Course if I’d let them implant talent inside my brain. Didn’t quite go all the way with it, my parents were pretty mad when they found out everything about the project, but I ended up with a couple talents so the school let me join anyway.”

Hajime hadn’t thought silence could be deafening until then. Fuyuhiko was just looking at him, somewhere between horrified and disgusted. It was hard to tell which. Alarm bells in his head were screaming ABORT, MISSION FAILURE, TIME TO MOVE OUT OF THE PREFECTURE AND START A NEW LIFE AS FAR AWAY FROM HERE AS HUMANLY POSSIBLE.

“Wait, so you’re saying that you’re not an Ultimate?”

“Not organically, no. I wanted to tell you since we were gonna hang out with Natsumi later, and she was in my class in the Reserve course. Wanted you to hear it from me rather than her, y’know? I don’t like lying, and I feel like I have been. So, yeah. That’s the important thing,” Hajime willed the ground to swallow him whole. It didn’t.

Impossible thing 5: That conversation actually turned out alright.

“Y’know I don’t mind, right?” Hajime’s brain completely stopped for a moment at that, before rebooting to listen to what came next, “Natsumi told me about a Hajime in her class. Description and everything. Did some digging, found out that you were the same guy. Didn’t wanna mention it in case it was a sore subject. I’m glad you told me though, don’t you fuckin’ dare try and keep a secret this big from me in the future, alright?”

The response he came up with was little more than “I-yeah-okay. Promise.”

Fuyuhiko nodded at him then grinned, “Now don’t go making me worry about you like that again. Got it? I thought you were gonna tell me that you were actually fuckin’ sick. Unless being a dumbass is a disease, in which case I think it’s terminal.”

#brainrot #2am kuzuhina brainrot #in its purest form #ie #me completely going off for about a thousand words #drabble

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hey-hamlet · 4 years

Text

BNHA AU Ideas: True Might

Also on AO3!

TL;DR: Powers don't make the hero - passion does. Luckily for Izuku and Toshinori, this is something the quirkless have in droves.

AKA: All Might is a quirkless vigilante, One for All isn't a quirk that exists and 1A gets a whole 3-week buffer before villain's start kicking their face in as opposed to the 3 days of canon.

Basically: Quirkless!Vigilante!All Might and Quirkless!Successor!(gen ed) UA Student!Midoriya. It’s a riot.

Yagi is stupid strong, his only form in this AU is basically Muscle Form from canon, but he’s a little less ridiculously cut. Not quite chubby, but huggable. This is mostly because he A, isn’t a celebrity that needs to have a marketable image and B, he really likes carbs.

He’s not exactly a vigilante by choice, in his day and age quirkless kids weren’t permitted to apply to UA, either gen ed or heroics. When Nezu got the job, that all changed, but it was a solid decade too late for Yagi.

He’s admittedly a little bitter about it, but he refuses to do anything but his best. He might be a little snippier with Pros than he really needs to be but oh well.

Katsuki and Izuku are utterly enamoured with this crazy vigilante that just doesn’t lose, refuses to back down from a fight even when he’s outmatched, and somehow coming out victorious anyway, rescuing everyone. They have a tense relationship, but often find time to get together and just ramble about how cool All Might is, share theories and dissect his fights. It’s not uncommon for Katsuki to have been hurling abuse at Izuku during class, only to show up at his house after school with a backpack full of snacks and a notebook full of questions.

Izuku knows most of what Katsuki does is to keep his status in the school. If he showed pity to a dumb quirkless runt he’d be painted with the same brush. This doesn’t make what Katsuki has done right! Only Izuku doesn’t blame him because he’s way too forgiving.

Izuku is the smartest person Katsuki knows and vice versa – they are each other’s measuring stick. Katsuki shows Izuku bravery, Izuku shows Katsuki determination.

Episode 1 goes as it does but you see a real flash of regret when Katsuki tells Izuku to jump off a roof because they are kinda-sorta friends. Izuku looks so betrayed. We meet the slime villain like before, All Might saves Izuku and 100% doesn’t expect the kid to fanboy about him and ask for two autographs – one made out to a “Kacchan”.

“Can someone quirkless be a hero?” “The whole world will be against you. Most places won't even give you a shot – no matter how good you are. You’re better off picking something else.”

Izuku is crushed but he does understand. All Might leaves and Izuku trails off kinda hopelessly. He follows the sounds of explosions without meaning to.

It’s Katsuki! He’s dying! Like usual at this point lmao. Izuku rushes in much like canon, All Might shows up, pulls Katsuki free and slams a dumpster on the slime villains head before making a speedy getaway. The police rip into Izuku but Katsuki actually defends him. “You were doing fuck all while I fucking died – don’t knock the only asshole who tried.” Izuku quietly slips him the autograph before running off the scene. Katsuki cries because Izuku got that for him even after he was such a fucking bastard that day? He can’t bring himself to be a dick to Izuku again, even only for show.

All Might finds Izuku and he's like “Sorry I was an ass I was being a dick because I had low self-esteem – I’m quirkless. If you’ll have me I’ll make you into the best hero the world had ever seen

Izuku, obviously, says yes please!

Also, hypermobile Izuku with joint braces as support gear because just let me project please my arms are killing me ( I wrote this a while ago and yes. My arms are still killing me - yes even now). He gets them after All Might sees him miss a dodge because his ankles rolled beneath him. They support his joints beyond the normal range of strength, letting him do some crazy pivots and handsprings, making it easy to support all his weight on a single-arm with very little strain. They can also lock in place, lessening muscle fatigue if he needs to hold onto something for ages and preventing injury if he’s pushing against something. Produced by David and Melissa Shield and imported through Nighteye Heroics.

Is support gear illegal for civilians to own? Yes! But medical equipment isn’t so if you can just convince people its medical not support you can get away with a lot.

Yagi has no weapons himself, other than the random shit he picks up and swings at people, and has little support gear other than a communicator, panic button, and a whole lot of zip-ties.

Izuku should probably have weapons but I’m struggling to think of anything other than war fans because how cool would that look? Because Shonen they would also have the ability to create powerful downdrafts that would give a boost to a jump or dodge.

Probably doesn’t get them until later and needs to train with them.

In this AU, One for All isn’t a quirk. Rather, it’s a role, passed from quirkless person to quirkless person, the only people who can’t be hard countered by All for One. They tend to be vigilantes, crime lords or hero managers, doing their part to foil as much of All for One’s plans as they can, through whatever means necessary.

It’s a role with a pretty high fatality rate.

No one knows All Might is quirkless other than those close to him, they instead think he has a strength quirk. He’s the most prolific vigilante in Japan and is almost as much of a household name as canon All Might. More divisive though, with most people decrying his vigilante status when he could ‘easily make a respectable hero’. He’s also pretty brutal with his takedowns of some villains, leading a lot of people to call him an unregulated brute. Still more call him a villain which, legally he would be - were he using a quirk.

Nighteye is his contact in the heroics industry, gives him loads of inside info that’s typically not something he should be passing on. He’s still close with David Shield. Nighteye imports any costume parts he needs from David and leaves them at various pickup points for Yagi.

He went to college with David in America after Nana died; America having a quirk blind admission process helped - but he’d have gotten shit talked a lot if people didn’t just assume he had a strength quirk. Dude was and is crazy big.

David was one of the only people that knew he was quirkless

OH FOR FUN; Nighteye was also going to this American college and that’s where he met All Might. The three of them became the world’s strangest group of friends and may have lowkey done some slightly illegal vigilante work around the campus and surrounding town. They had a reputation for getting no sleep ever and being the most mismatched set of people

Secretly Smart Jock, Business Man with a Touch of E-boy, Science Hipster. They all tumbled into class together with varying levels of alive-ness. Nighteye and David were very much not morning people.

UA! It’s a ride. Izuku fails the practical but he’s not shocked – he was prepared for this.

He actually got like 30 hero points? But they refused to admit him on hero points alone due to his ‘deficiencies’. They don’t exactly tell Izuku this but Aizawa was there and he was furious.

Gets into 1C with Shinsou, Shinsou fuckin hates him on sight for reasons best known to him (It’s bc he was so god damned cheerful he just – assumed Izuku had a quirk. I love Shinsou but he’s more than a little judgemental). Izuku is like smiling through the pain because he just wanted to make a friend his age – Katsuki barely counts.

He sits with him at lunch and makes friends-ish with the hero kids who dragged Katsuki along, meets Ochaco again. She’s upset he didn’t get in – especially after he tells her he apparently got 30 points. The whole table gets mad on his behalf and hes embarrassed and happy.

Like day 2 he’s leaving gym and someone is like “Oh LMAO it’s Deku – he was in the year below me at Aldera. Only fuckin quirkless kid in the whole school; can’t believe he got into UA.” He turns to Izuku. “Who’s dick did you suck to get in you - ?” And Shinsou just decks him. He grabs Izuku – who is super confused fyi – and s p r i n t s. They have to stop after a while because hes having a panic attack and Shinsou doesn’t know what the fuck to do and he’s mad and upset and the sunshine boy is sobbing –

Aizawa shows up, having seen the (end of the) altercation and is ready to expel some gen ed kids he can’t legally expel – until he sees the two kids from the entrance exam he was interested in – including the quirkless kid who should have gotten in. Well he’s much more willing to hear them out.

100% requests expulsion on those 2 2E kids because that’s Discrimination and they should know better as second years. Nezu grants it because those 2 were di ck s

No USJ because no All Might – stuff like that will come,,, later : )

Sports Fest! Izuku and Shinsou kick ass, Aizawa is Watching. All Might may have gotten in as a crowd member with Nighteye and a visiting David and Melissa and they are cheering on their sun son. Also, Nighteye is going to go cheer on Mirio so he just got a pass to attend all 3 days of the sports festival. He’s just buying snacks on the second day because he’s never talked to one of the second years in his life.

Shinsou and Izuku make it to the tournament. Izuku has been training pretty seriously with All Might for a while now and hes a very good fighty boy. Makes it to the 3rd round of the tournament where he loses to Iida. Shinsou makes it second where he loses to Katsuki. Izuku is like “Iida might you be Ingenium’s brother or something?” “Yes, I am!” “OH MY GOD I LOVE INGENIUM ISN��T HE THE COOLEST” “YES MY BROTHER IS AMAZING” Shinsou is just watching while faintly amused.

#bnha au #true might au #bnha #All Might #yagi toshinori #shinsou hitoshi #midoriya izuku #aizawa shouta

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reading-writing-revolution · 4 years

Text

Very long, VERY with the read -

Copied:

"I have been purposely been absent from the online conversation about opening schools because I was keeping my head in the sand for as long as I could. But the words below from a Fairfax parent, Joe Morice, could not express any more clearly why we should be fully virtual in the Fall. It’s a long read but well worth it.

——-

To our fellow FCPS families, this is it gang, 5 days until the 2 days in school vs. 100% virtual decision. Let’s talk it out, in my traditional mammoth TL/DR form.

“My kids want to go back to school.”

I challenge that position. I believe what the kids desire is more abstract. I believe what they want is a return to normalcy. They want their idea of yesterday. And yesterday isn’t on the menu.

“I want my child in school so they can socialize.”

“My kid is going to be left behind.”

“Classrooms are safe.”

100% of them said no, they would not. These are some of their answers:

“No. Until further notice we are on Zoom.”

“(Our company) doesn’t allow us in (company space).”

“Oh hell no.”

“No absolutely not.”

“Is there a percentage lower than zero?”

“Something of that size would be virtual.”

“Children only die .0016 of the time.”

If you’re in this camp, and I acknowledge that many, many people are, I’m asking you to consider that number from a slightly different angle.

“Hardly any kids get COVID.”

(Deep sigh) Yes, that is statistically true as of this writing. But it is a cherry-picked argument because you’re leaving out an important piece.

“The flu kills more people every year.”

(Deep sigh). First of all, no, it doesn’t. Per the CDC, United States flu deaths average 20,000 annually. COVID, when I start writing here today, has killed 133,420 in six months.

“Almost everyone recovers.”

While I’m making every effort to reach objectivity, on this particular point, you don’t know what the f- you’re talking about.

“If people get sick, they get sick.”

First, you mistyped. What you intended to say was “If OTHER people get sick, they get sick.” And shame on you.

“I’m not going to live my life in fear.”

“FCPS leadership sucks.”

“I talked it over with my kids.”

“The teachers need to do their job.”

“Teachers have a greater chance to being killed by a car than they do of dying from COVID.”

“If the grocery store workers can be onsite what are the teachers afraid of?”

A teacher is with 11 ‘customers’ who have not an inkling what mortality is, for 45 minutes, in a 675 SF space, six times a day.

Just stop.

“Teachers are choosing remote because they don’t want to work.”

“I wasn’t prepared to be a parent 24/7” and “I just need a break.”

“What does your gut tell you to do?”

Shawn and I have talked ad infinitum about all of these and other points. Two days ago, at mid-discussion I said, “Stop, right now, gut answer, what is it,” and we both said, “virtual.”

I keep thinking that the 2 days option is the soundproof steel box. I welcome, damn, beg, anyone to convince me otherwise.

At the time I started writing at 12:09 PM, 133,420 Americans had died from COVID. Upon completing this draft at 7:04 PM, that number rose to 133,940.

520 Americans died of COVID while I was working on this. In seven hours.

The length of a school day."

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mittensmorgul · 4 years

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OMG. California scenes. I'm a SoCal girl and I just realized that this... is true. I think of myself as guarded, but wow. I think I've actually sat down and opened up to a relative stranger over lunch and then coffee. But I don't do it to seem centered! Anyway, gotta go back and look over my unpublished fics and make sure that I don't accidentally put too much of myself into them...

hi there! I swear I’m gonna write a bit about your message, but for reference, for others reading this, I think I need to provide a bit of context first. :) This is regarding this post about writing exposition:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/190756281185/cthonical-gallifrey-feels-fanfic-authors

Disclaimer time! I reblogged it specifically for that highlighted bit at the top:

And my specific intent in reblogging this was every complaint I ever read about why Dean and Cas don’t just ~talk to each other~ and deal with their issues. Every single “but they could’ve dealt with this years ago and been together!” I will counter “No, they really couldn’t! Because that’s not the story they’ve ever been telling!”

But, I’ve heard argued, if they really wanted to, they could change the story they’re telling. They could so easily make it obvious, explicit, textual between them. And of course they could! If they had zero authorial integrity, they could do whatever they wanted.

The way they have set up this story for the last decade and a half has established-- through the slow unfolding of more and more important facts, of gradually uncovering details, as above in purple, that become necessary for comprehension of the characters and their progression through this story-- that Dean’s relationship with Cas has been established in an ever tighter orbit around their mutual most deeply buried and tightly guarded secrets.

For reference, I’m not pulling this line of thinking out of nowhere. This is literally a rephrasing of something Davy Perez said in an interview when he first started with SPN back in s12. I never finished transcribing that podcast, but the relevant bit of the two hour conversation is included in this post:

https://mittensmorgul.tumblr.com/post/160988290690/12-while-i-do-not-ask-this-to-be-negative-at

but the tl;dr of the handful of paragraphs of full context from that post:

Television is about a character that you become invested in, and that you fall in love with. That character grows in incremental ways. Not only do they grow in tiny little increments, and sometimes don’t even grow, they go backwards. You don’t close the loop. You keep the loop open, so that hopefully when you know that okay, this is our final season, this is our final run of episodes, that’s when you can find those landing points, and that’s when you can sort of say this is the end of this journey.

And Supernatural has been narratively riding around on that loop, on that spiral, for 15 years. And this is now the final season, and they’re gliding toward those landing points now. They’re homing in on those “painful truths the characters don’t want known,” those huge personal issues they’ve all been grinding down over the last 15 years and inching ever closer to unveiling. Because that’s how stories work when authors are writing to the narrative rather than writing instant gratification for a fickle audience. If one thing has been consistent over the years, it has been this progression of character. And Dabb era has chosen to lampshade all of this in text, through Chuck the Original Author.

And that is effectively the exact writing advice from this random post about how to write a believable and engaging story that has been all over my dash over the last few days. Like... the irony, right?

So now that I’ve explained my vagueing with this post, I’d be happy to address your actual question, from the rest of that page of writing advice. Thank you for bearing with me... :’D

I’d venture to say that the description of that sort of “identity info dump” that the article described as “California scenes,” where characters just spill their deepest secrets, isn’t always a negative thing. And it’s not a phenomenon exclusive to California, or borne of a need to prove someone’s authenticity, or angst cred, or whatever. Because it’s something we see happening on the internet, too.

And it’s absolutely something you can USE in your writing. I find it hilarious because it’s actually a major theme of my pinefest fic this year, which will be posting in April. Sorry I can’t point everyone to it yet, or really give too many spoilers... other than trying to explain this phenomenon.

Social media creates a weird sort of culture of identity. There was a post on tumblr years ago that explained it rather well. It said something to the effect of “in real life you meet people and slowly feel them out and reveal your deepest secrets only to a select few people after they already know your whole life story, but on the internet you’re just a screen name and an avatar and you might reveal your deepest secrets without any of the people who read them even knowing your NAME or what you look like or anything else about you.”

Because it’s not about complete open honesty, you know? It’s about understanding what carefully selected bits of information you present in a given circumstance. It’s social engineering.

Revealing your deepest desires or darkest secrets is an entirely different prospect when, say, sitting with a new acquaintance over a cup of coffee face to face or with a coworker in the break room than it is in an anonymous internet chat room. And it can be fascinating to understand what we’re willing to reveal about ourselves in these very different circumstances.

And once you sort through that sort of character analysis, you can write a truly believable and entirely in-character info dump like that without it feeling like an info dump. Because what the character chooses to reveal about themselves in a given situation can be as informative of the character and their relationship to the other characters as the details of what they say.

So, I guess the takeaway here is the reminder that you should still take all writing advice with a grain of salt, and remember that it’s not a blanket rule and all these “California scenes” should be excised in order for your story to be good, you know? If you know your characters well enough, they can be strategic moments of character insight, or even a complete misdirect. The key is to be aware you’re writing one, and then use it to illustrate a character’s weakness, or strength, or the dynamic of the relationship being exposed, rather than being a strict infodump of facts. Because infodumps are always boring if that’s actually the scene you’re writing and there isn’t a deeper layer of understanding going on or a deeper insight for the reader to gain.

Lol, this reminds me of another quote about writing that’s perfectly related:

“If the story you’re telling, is the story you’re telling, you’re in deep shit.” Robert McKee

If the only thing the reader takes from a scene is the words coming out of the characters’ mouths, you done screwed up... That’s why so many of these California scenes are just bad writing. They serve no other purpose than telling the reader a series of details about the characters’ backstories and fail to provide any deeper insight. The key to writing a GOOD scene is make it less a backstory catch-up bit of filler text, and more about what the characters aren’t revealing, or why they’re revealing any of this information in the first place. Because “to inform the reader of these facts” is never a good enough reason for a character to spill their guts like that.

#writing is hard #spn meta meta #lol because i can't control myself sometimes :'D #this is how stories work #Anonymous

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scni · 4 years

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chicago’s very own addison sani has been spotted on madison avenue driving a rolls-royce wraith , welcome ! your resemblance to greta onieogou is unreal . according to tmz , you just had your twenty fourth birthday bash . your chance of surviving new york is uncertain because you’re reactive , but being tenderhearted might help you . i think being a virgo explains that . 3 things that would paint a better picture of you would be walking out of a casino with double the money you walked in with, sunkissed skin all year round, drunkenly dancing on a table . ( my dad has ties to the mafia and when things started getting out of hand my mom forced him out of our lives what she doesn’t know is that i meet him for lunch every week ) & ( cisfemale + she/her ) + ( taylor , twenty , she/her , est )

wow ok guys , this took me alot longer than i expected ? i’m TIRED , lol . i’m taylor though , hi legends ! i’m 20 and live in the est + go by she / her pronouns . a little about me before we get to my lil baby — i spend too much time in the timewrap that is youtube where i’ll watch a ricky thompson video one minute then daily vlogs of a raccoon to mgk’s kelly vision vlogs true story , this MAY have happened while i was supposed to be getting this intro up 🥺 i’m a total music whore and love everything that has a good flow idc if it’s rap or country if it’s good it’s lit ! also heads up i have the attention span of a squirrel so if i don’t respond to a thread or ims it’s because im a dumb hoe , i still love ya . anyways , enough about me lets get this intro rolling ! give this a like if you’d like to plot . ALSO ? i know the background is a lil long it was honestly mostly for me to really flesh addison out and give me something to look back to , so if you wanna get to the point of the intro just skip the background ? there is a tl;dr after it followed by her personality / secret / stats + some basic wcs toward the end of the post !

* 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 !

addison mikhailovna sani , was born in saint petersburg , russia where she grew up in a home too big to even be referred to as a house . she wasn’t the first child of ivanka and mikhail but she definitely was their first planned child . a couple that met early in their twenties , had their moments but at the end of the day they loved one another . both extremely traditional and their beliefs , they were given no choice but to accelerate their love story when they turned up pregnant with their son . he was a beautiful and happy little boy , but posed a threat the ivanka and mikhail’s pretty storybook life they wanted to set up for themselves . obsessed with staying on some sort of timeline , ivanka began her campaign for her budding political career . then she turned up pregnant again , with their second child , a daughter this time . in their eyes their daughter was just another bump in their perfect life . they held a sort of resentment against the kids for that , especially given that ivanka had lost her window of political popularity . she’d resigned to the life of a socialite and stay at home mom and they decided the best way to fill her time up was with another child . this time , one they truly wanted . her parents would never admit it , but they hadn’t seen the true “ sani potential “ in their children that wasn’t until they had addison . her parents truly doted on her . from her point of view life was perfect . silver spoon life did her well . that was until the perfect facade the sani’s held up was beginning to crumble before their eyes . her father , a wealthy international real estate investor comes from a crime family , it was a world he hid in the shadows but things grew rather messy and the family was posed with a choice (a) leave russia and start up life somewhere else or (b) stay in russia and chance mikhail going to jail for the entirety of the kids childhood . of course they chose to leave russia , on the one promise to ivanka that mikhail was done with the life of organized crime .

they made the move to chicago , illinois when addison was just ten years old . luckily for her she’d grown up speaking three languages russian , nigerian , and english and so coming to america was made just a bit easier for her as she wasn’t completely fluent but was able to get by and converse with others . her parents quickly integrated themselves into the elite society within chicago’s wealthiest families , which wasn’t too hard with her father’s up - and - up line of work of real estate investing and her mother’s status as an heiress . the same could be said for the kids at school , each one integrating fairly well into their own friend groups . like at home stayed the same , they may have been in a new country but her parents love or obsession with addison knew no borders . she had everything a little girl could ask for and more , plus her busy parents actually made time for her - that was much more than her siblings could say . addison knew the dynamic , she was a smart girl and picked up on it quickly . often apologizing to her older siblings and offering up her own support for their lives in place of their parents . as she grew older the pressure from her family started taking it’s toll . when ivanka and mikhail sani thought you were destined to be great , they really pushed you and placed the highest of expectations on you . addison carried around the fear that one day they’d look at her the same way they did her siblings and so she worked herself in all aspects of her life to be the perfect daughter . she excelled at everything she did - academics , ballet , student government , and even becoming a debutante .

it wasn’t until she was sixteen that the toll really started chipping away at addison . she’d spent a month on a downward spiral; popping pills , drowning herself in alcohol , losing her virginity , and throwing parties . it all came to a head when she stole millions from her father’s secret stash and booked a private jet with a couple friends . the three went missing for nearly two weeks before they were spotted at a resort in ibiza . her parents brought her home only to send her away to an inpatient program for a little over a month . addison spent that month really digging deep , finding out who she was and what she actually wanted . her therapist had told her for her to get out of the dark place she was in she’d need to separate her thinking from her parents and let go of the perfectionist act . when she came back home it was like the last few months had never happened , her parents ignored it all . to them , the issue was fixed and now it was time to sweep it under the rug but for addison it broke her heart . she realized over that next year that her parents didn’t see her as a person with her own choices but instead some sort of maniquin for them to play some weird version of real life sims with . despite this realization she couldn’t help but to fall back in line .

senior year of high school came quick and the four years of student government , mock trial , equestrian , and perfect grades was nearly over but not before addison’s whole world crumbled before her . no matter how perfect she tried to be the sani’s could never run from the truth . they weren’t this perfect family , when her mom caught her dad tied up with the russian mafia within the city of chicago it was over . by the end of the night ivanka was kicking him out of the house , with the threat that if he so much as looked in the direction of her and the kids she’d have him sent to jail for the rest of his natural life . the threat was enough to spook him , he’d known her well enough to know she wasn’t bluffing . just a few months later he moved out of the state leaving secret letters for the children to let them know he loved them . but of course , addison wasn’t allowed to so much as miss a beat . ivanka was still on her like some crazed momager and when she landed multiple acceptances in some of the top schools across the country the two inevitably made the decision for addison to attend yale . secretly she wanted stanford but bit the bullet . she studied finance with a major in philosophy . joined a sorority and mock trial . in truth she took a liking to connecticut and the change of scenery helped her forget about everything happening back in chicago .

during her senior year at yale , her mom broke the news of the family making the big move to new york city . which really just meant addison and her mom were moving to new york city because her brother had started a family in his college town of durham , north carolina + was also playing for the carolina panthers while her sister traveling the world on some sort of instagram model high . her mom rambled on for week about how the move was perfect since addison would be attending columbia for law school so now the two could see one another more often . even at twenty two addison couldn’t put her foot down when it came to her mom and so for the millionth time in her life she held back what she really wanted to do ( finally going to stanford , for law school ) and committed to columbia law .

* 𝐭𝐥;𝐝𝐫 !

basically , addison is the baby of three kids . born in st petersburg , russia but grew up in chicago . she was always the favorite of her parents ivanka ( a russian heiress + philanthropist ) and mikhail ( a international real estate investor ) as she grew older she realized their love was more of a obsession with control + perpetuating a picture of a perfect family + daughter . the pressure to a toll on addison during highschool and she had a break down that led to a major downward spiral landing her in an inpatient facility for a month . when she got out , her parents ignored all the issues within the family and went back to treating addison like some sort of puppet + addison continued to go along with it , as she didn’t really know how else to be . today she struggles with being who she wants to be and who her mom wants her to be . she and her siblings have always gotten along , even though their parents never treated them all the same they were all able to see the struggle in how each one was treated and able to bond through their messy parent situation . as of now addison’s trying to play up a double life sort of situation . having fun + being the perfect daughter . she’s also on the path to becoming a big time lawyer . she’s in her 2L of law school at columbia + also works as a paid intern at the district attorney’s office .

* 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 !

addison has always been full of love and unlike her parents her love isn’t conditional maybe delusional sometimes but never conditional . don’t worry , after a nation wide search i’ve found the first girl who doesn’t suffer from resting bitch face . instead you’ll always see a smile on her face , to the point where if you ever see her not smiling be worried . something life shattering has happened . she’s the type to say she “ hates drama “ but perk up the minute she hears about drama going on in some else’s life . don’t worry though , after she done being nosy she’ll do all she can to help fix the issue even if you don’t want her too . hey , she may make things worse in the process but atleast she cares , right ? maybe not , i don’t know . incredibly loyal and loves to have a good laugh , she’s incredibly witty and a lover of corny jokes . very talkative . wants everyone to like her and if you don’t like her get ready for her to try at every chance to win you over . very much so the “ pardon me , but you really hurt my feelings “ type . she’s really just a soft , smart rich girl trying to navigate through this big world . also she falls in love quick , although she’d never had a real relationship . not because she’s a T H O T , she’s not , well , she doesn’t mean to be atleast . she just finds her befriending guys more than becoming their girlfriend . despite her naturally affectionate behavior , she just has this weird “ no boyfriend “ curse going on . maybe she’s pushing them away when things get close to serious in fear of losing the guy from her life . on a negative note , addisons hands down worst quality is her inability to control a situation she is incredibly reactive / volatile . she’ll easily fall into a screaming match or crying fit . never the type to walk away . a true virgo , y’all , the girl can and will argue until you’re blue in the face .

* 𝐬𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 !

so basically , her dad is apart of the russian mafia . he was heavily involved while they lived in russia but when the government was catching onto his actions the family fled the country before they could dig any deeper into the case . he was supposed to cut ties when they moved to chicago but it was a way of life he simply couldn’t let go of . when addison’s mom found out she forced him out of their lives threatening to turn him in if he so much of looks at his children . despite this when addison and her mom moved to new york he reached out to addison . they’ve been meeting for lunch once a week for almost a year and a half behind her moms back . absolutely no one but those involved with the mafia know about her dad being within the mafia , which is exactly how he’s always wanted it , which is why her mom could never find out addison and he are continuing their relationship .

* 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐬 !

full name : addison mikhailovna sani age : twenty - four date of birth : september 7th place of birth : saint petersburg , russia zodiac : virgo label : the facade pronouns : she/her gender : cisfemale orientation : bisexual , biromantic height : 5′8″ weight : 132 lbs ethnicity : nigerian , russian hometown : chicago , illinois occupation : law student , intern @ the district attorney’s office more : allergic to apples , hates takeout food , has an affinity for adult cartoons and stand up comedy, lives for alternative music , believes cuddling is a natural human interaction , loves video games , graduated valedictorian of her high school , loves painting .

* 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 !

soooo i know these are pretty basic but im just throwing things at the wall here and hoping they stick , okay ? im down for really anything so we can take inspo from these ideas ? expand more on them ? or just brainstorm something completely different ? whatever works ! , best friends , GIRL squad , drinking/party buddies , we’re just friend or at least that what we say but i always bring you as my date to big events type of deal , flirtationship , sibling like friendship , someone who has a crush on her , they don’t like her and she’s always trying to get them to change their mind , someone who tries to talk her into standing up to her mom , a confidant , someone she has a crush on , booty call maybe she initially wanted something serious from them but just fell into this booty call dynamic and she wont say anything otherwise because she likes having them around , someone she has a crush on , an ex friend who probably broke her trust .

#wealthyhq:intro #( 🍒 ) a look 𝓫𝓮𝓱𝓲𝓷𝓭 the mask — ooc #rehab tw

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dib-shit · 5 years

Text

“What if they were all Friends!” Invader Zim AU

This is a headcannon/fic idea that’s been in my head for a very very long time and I want to at least put out something for, even if just a long drabble.

I really really like the idea of Zim and Dib developing a sort of squad with the others. Like when they hit high school, things start changing for the better overall. This is what I was thinking of when I made the Eric Andre “what if they were all friends” post (hence the title, which I want to change at some point).

tl;dr throughout high school, Dib, Zim, Gaz, Gretchen, Tak, Skoodge, Tenn, and Keef all become sorta friends and do dumb shit together. Tak and Tenn have been in a relationship, Dib and Gretchen eventually start a relationship too, and it’s complicated between Skoodge and Zim for a while. Zim finds out the truth about his mission (of course), Dib finds out he is a clone, Tak gets rejected from the empire, and they all bond through that.

I’m totally open to talking about this and answering any asks that are sent btw lol

Freshman year: things are mostly the same between Zim and Dib, but Gretchen starts making an effort to talk to Dib every now and then. She wants him to feel like he’s not alone, even if she’s not sure if she believes him about anything. Skoodge occasionally is out and about with Zim, but doesn’t go to Skool. Keef and Gretchen have been good friends for a couple of years at this point. Keef for sure still has a crush on Zim but knows it’s not mutual and has learned to be more respectful of personal space (he also doesn’t know Zim is an alien so of course thinks Zim is the same age as the other students).

Sophomore year: Dib and Gretchen almost have a sort of friendship going on. Zim and Dib still constantly piss each other off but it’s become more of a game for the both of them. At this point Dib has given up trying to expose Zim just tries to keep him from destroying everything. Gaz is in Highschool now too and mostly tries to ignore the others but will occasionally step in if things go to far. Gretchen has a lot of internal conflict as she starts noticing little things that point to Dib not being crazy after all. She keeps quiet in order to avoid the two of them getting bullied more (also why they aren’t super open about the friendship). A certain event results in Gretchen very clearly seeing Zim without his disguise and telling Dib she kinda figured Zim was an alien for a while now. She stops caring about the bullying risk and they finally develop a proper friendship.

Summer after Sophomore year: Dib and Gretchen hang out a lot, and Dib starts to get to know Keef better (now that he knows how to behave a bit better). Gaz gets to know Gretchen a little bit when she visits the Membrane’s house. Some time around here is when Zim gets the “your mission is a fraud™” message that happens in every fic. He stays in all the time as Skoodge runs the errands. He runs into Gretchen at one point when trying to get to the library, and they visit there every now and then. Dib at some point goes through his Dad’s old research and comes across the fact that he’s a clone, and so is Gaz. Gaz has known for a while, and tries to calm Down down when he gets upset. Both of them have very low thoughts of Professor Membrane now, and they start building a better sibling relationship upon realizing they basically only have each other.

Dib goes to check on Zim, and starts to piece together what happened. Dib starts to assume Zim has given up and tries to leave him alone, knowing that getting brutal truth sucks ass. But then Zim just shows up with this massive machine that actually has the ability to destroy the planet (along with himself, Skoodge, and Gir). Skoodge can’t get to him, with Zim thinking Skoodge betrayed him with the whole mission fraud thing. Dib manages to get to the top where Zim is, and talk some sense into him. He tells Zim it doesn’t matter what the Tallests think, it matters what Zim thinks of himself. Some really corny sappy stuff about

“hey man, I just finally realized my dad is shit and I’m a failed clone cuz I’m not what he wanted me to be. I know what it’s like. I don’t think you actually want to do this. You’re going to end up killing yourself and those you care about, even if you won’t admit it. Skoodge cares about you. Pretty sure Gir cares. And I also don’t want to see you die you price of shit. I’ve always thought you were a threat, you don’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

Anyway, Zim comes down, and everyone is relieved. Since then, Zim and Dib don’t really fight anymore, and don’t really talk until Skool comes back.

Junior Year: Skoodge is now a student so that Zim has some emotional support (but he won’t admit that’s the reason) when at Skool. Things are quiet for a while until a really old plan Zim had to destroy the Skool (involving the boiler room) starts activating. Zim at first doesn’t care, after some convincing he joins Dib in an effort to stop it. Gretchen and Skoodge get the idea to start getting them to work together more, and they do just that. They form a “team” to deal with dumb shit that happens frequently (which was usually left to Dib to take care of). Zim and Dib fight a lot, but not like before, and they at least tolerate each other’s presence. Gaz sits with them at lunch but mostly keeps to herself.

Eventually, Tak crashes back on Earth, and using a new disguise she tries to navigate living in the city. She has very little supplies and Mimi is still damaged. All she has is herself and her pak, and her damaged safety pod from her former ship. (She likely spent time on foodcourtia to gain monies to fix her pod enough to get back to Earth). Gaz meets her at the mall, and figures pretty quickly it’s Tak. They bond over a mutual dislike of Dib and Zim, and eventually Tak explains that she isn’t here to take over again, she needs somewhere to stay away from the empire. Gaz helps her out, with everyone else thinking Tak is her new friend from another school or something. After getting her a place to stay and a job, Tak trusts Gaz enough to tell her about Tenn (a story for another post), and that she really misses her. Gaz sympathizes and tells her that she knows where her ship is, but she’ll have to reveal herself to the others.

When Tak is reintroduced to the “team” Dib and Zim are immediately ready for a fight, but Gaz manages to diffuse the situation, explaining that Tak is sorta in the same boat as Zim now: rejects of the empire. After some arguing, Dib eventually agrees to give Tak her ship back, and she tells him she can help him build his own in the future.

Whenever she’s not working, she’s in the ship, adjusting the long-distance communication in an attempt to reach Tenn. But it’s just static. Gaz is the only who knows that she’s trying to reach Tenn. But over time, Tak starts trying to get her mind off of it by getting involved with the team’s shenanigans.

At some point, Dib starts coming to terms with the fact that he might like Gretchen as more than a friend but is afraid to tell her thanks to his reputation. But some sorta… Event or something (idk) leads Gretchen to finally tell him that she likes him. After the initial shock (even though it should have been obvious), Dib tells her the feeling is mutual. And there we have the only straight pairing in this whole thing. Gretchen tries to make an effort to bond with Tak, giving her tips on human culture and little things she thinks she’ll like (mostly consisting of cats and the black/purple combo).

Summer before Senior year: Tak starts getting something from her communicator. It takes her a while to adjust enough to understand, but when she finally gets the sweet spot she starts crying. It’s Tenn’s voice. Tak quickly realizes it’s a recording on loop, voicing some sort of code. Dib and Gaz offer to help with the code, but Tak says only she and Tenn use it, so it’s only meant for her. The code translates to an SOS message, then gives her coordinates. The message then goes on to say that if Tak finds this, she loves her and that she’s sorry she failed. The date of the recording is a few years old by this point. Tak immediately starts packing up a bunch of supplies, and raids Gaz’s room for weapons and gear (with permission). Dib asks her what’s going on and Tak frantically only responds with “she might be alive. I’m going to get her.” While Tak is prepping her ship, Gaz explains to Dib about Tenn. Dib runs out to the ship and tells Tak that he’s coming with her to help. There’s some arguing, but he goes, and Gaz stays behind as ground control.

Long story short, Tak is a badass and they break into the prison on Meekrob and get Tenn. Tak runs towards her and they both start crying and hugging each other very tightly. Tenn says she thought Tak had died, and that she was so happy she finally got the transmission. Tak is also relieved that Tenn is alive and that they’re together again. Then they get the fuck out of there and head back to Earth, while Tak helps Tenn start putting together a human disguise.

Senior Year: Tak and Tenn aren’t bothering going to Skool, they get jobs and live in an apartment together. But they do frequent the library and try to learn about human culture. Zim is struggling with emotions now that he knows about Tak and Tenn. Skoodge on the other hand, is able to come to terms with it a little quicker since he’s known for a while now that he liked Zim. Keef has been involved with the group every now and then, but still knows nothing about like, half of them being Irken. Gretchen convinces everyone to let her tell him (mostly by saying he’ll probably finally get over his crush on Zim that way). It takes a bit of talking to get Keef to understand that Dib was right the whole time, and he is perfectly fine with it. But then Gretchen has to clarify to him that Zim is like, 150 something years old at least, and none of them know how Irken age/years translates to human age/years. Zim doesn’t even know his exact years anymore, he just neglected to keep track of time. So none of them know if the Irkens are around their age or what.*

Keef’s just like

Anyway now Keef is part of the squad. Yay.

*The confusion comes from a number of factors. Different planets have different lengths of years/days, Irkens and Humans likely have very different interpretations/handling of age, and Zim’s behavior does not help at all. The other Irkens sort of know their age, but still don’t know how it translates to human age.

I myself don’t really know how I think of their ages (i.e if they are adults or not), which is why I just avoid human/Irken romance just to be on the safe side.

I know this was really long, but believe me when I say this is really just the surface. There’s a lot of stuff in between, like the Tallests’ having a secret relationship, stuff in the past for everyone, and possibly stuff after Senior year.

Totally open to talking about this too, like I’d be happy to answer asks if any are sent lol.

Thank you for reading!! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

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inexchangeforyoursoul · 5 years

Text

... apparently, these are becoming a weekly endeavor. (watch me getting an autoblock as soon as I post this) ( AO3 )

tl;dr Hawks is in high spirits (no pun intended), and Rumi’s Intrigued™

Meanwhile, somewhere not too far away, a vaguely annoyed Dabi is sneezing a whole lot, questioning whether his feeble ass is allergic to feathers.

(((I almost chose an angsty ending. Almost. But apparently I cannot do that with series and games that are not depression station in the first place, F.)))

“Say… you are in a reeeeeally good mood today, aren'tcha?” Rumi notes between two obnoxious milkshake slurps next to the remaining morsels of their lunch while taking a full round on the revolving barstool. It’s a Monday, it’s a conference day, a boring conference day where she’s about to kill herself out of sheer boredom… and Hawks, who’s usually also only present in body and ready to passive-aggressively tear the thing down, is radiating a hundred different levels and shades of sunlight. Of course she’s gonna jump on this.

“Huh?” the hero replies, returning to the present; the pen he’s got bouncing between two fingers while reading through the despair-inducingly thick paper pile in front of him (most likely invitations and offers of various kinds) never stops in its fast, metronome-like movement. The little smile that's been plastered over his face all day perks up a little as he looks at her, too. He’s obviously missed the question directed at him, but doesn't seem to be bothered by it.

“I said you are in a good fucking mood, twerp,” his friend repeats with a click of the tongue. Something’s definitely up. “And that you didn't catch it is all the damn proof I need. Haven't seen you this well-adjusted since… ever, actually.” Slurrrp.

“Aaah… guess so,” he muses with the rhythm slowing and a thoughtful expression for a change.

“I had the best fucking sleep ‘since ever’ is all.” The pause preceding this is uncharacteristically long, and his persistent smile returns before he even reaches the conclusion.

“You slept?” chortles Rumi in disbelief, then starts choking as some of the remaining milkshake finds its way to her lungs. The plausible fact that this alone could make him feel alive should not be this funny.

Hawks’ smile widens into a grin and he leans onto an elbow, shoving the documents aside. “Seven hours and thirteen whole-ass minutes, bitch. It's a new record!” It wasn't exactly that much, probably just under seven if he wanted to be honest. But point stands.

Once having regained composure, the heroine lets the information linger for a few seconds. Hmm. Hmmm… “Explains why you are functional and were late for the meeting. What it doesn’t explain is how you, Mr. 10 minutes ahead of everyone’s schedule… early bird extraordinaire… slept in.” That goofy expression is not his usual one, no. There's a snoop to be had, here. After a deep, deep, grin-ridden sigh, she turns back to him, leaning on the counter as well. “Has it got anything to do with dodging, like, all of my invitations lately? Hmm?” She wiggles her brows at him.

Man… she just went there, didn't she. Unfortunately, the persistent smile refuses to cover for him. In fact, it's more incriminating than anything, creeping wider once more. Well then. “Hasn't got as much to do with it as you would like, fam. There's only about… 15% of overlap.” Plus some change.

Maybe more, now that he thinks about it… because the disturbingly domestic (and even worse, occasionally comforting and enjoyable) shenanigans with the League have long outgrown the ‘meeting up with actual S-rank villains in my fake free time because spy lmao’ category. Rumi wouldn't buy that anymore, she's seen enough to know that he's full of shit.

There's a glint of a hunter’s in Rumi’s eyes… a hunter’s that has found fresh track. Her grin turns into a triumphant sneer. “So you do admit to seeing someone.”

The smile on Hawks’ face gains a streak of concern. “Please don't make me think about it in those terms,” he moans, furrowing his brows. “Any of the people I've been dealing with are freaks of nature.”

“So are we,” she notes, not missing a beat.

That earns a similarly fast fling-and-point of a pen in her general direction. “Word.”

She snickers. “Come on…! Tell me about that dreamy 15% that has you so pepped. I'm dying to know~”

He thinks about it for a bit. Then, the feathers of Hawks’ wings rustle, and he himself takes a gander around the restaurant; there's mostly heroes, sidekicks and managers gathered in the building in the first place, who are similarly disinterested in each other's dwindling lunch break times and private lives. While assessing the room, he's silently weighing his options as to how much he can say, and how he should choose his words.

“So… I've been roped into a kind of internship in the past months that I wanted nothing to do with, and am still hella iffy about,” he begins, keeping it just low enough for it to be not overly suspicious.

“Good start!”

“I know, right? Anyway… it's dirty work, but turned out to be tolerable, most of the time. The coworkers are all bonkers, but I've already come to the terrifying conclusion that I'm not all that different.”

“Took you long enough.”

“Hush, I'm telling your story…! Who you might be interested in, I think, is the contact person that keeps a close eye on me even today.”

“OOOH, this is getting spicy~ are they, like, twice your age? You are into older people, after all. Oh, and dude or lady? Other, maybe? You are being really cagey.”

“What did I just say?! Also, I'm not into older people. This peep is up to five years my senior, tops.”

“Never had to listen to yourself when going on about Endeavor, have you!? And see? You just admitted the peeper is older!”

“That’s fan rambling, and ever since I had to work with him, I have held my horses in check, hon. As for the other thing? Honestly, I never asked about their birthday or age, but I've been getting older sib vibes. Could be younger or as old as I am, for all I know. But let me fucking continue. SO… we've been getting along okay lately. Way too well, actually, considering the mutually hostile ~strictly professional~ gig we both started out with. Not that we're not assholes to each other still, but we are… like, frenemies.”

“Strangely mysterious person is already starting to sound like you.”

“…”

“Okay, Pot, okay!! Stop looking all disappointed and tell me about Kettle.”

“… Kettle will be a great stand-in name, thanks for the contribution. You are allowed to acknowledge this with a hum.”

“Mhmm.”

“Excellent. Back on topic… as you know, my yesterday… had been a thing.” For the first time that day, the smile disappears entirely.

Rumi hums again with a nod, which doesn't get shot down. From what Hawks was willing to share about family, it had been obvious that he wasn't on particularly good terms with his parents in the first place, but…

“Long story short, yesterday was also internship day, and I was in a pretty bad mood when we met. Tired, anxious, angry, you name it, I had it. Thankfully there's no news coverage, and I didn't want to bring it up, either… but Kettle… knows me well enough to tell when I’m faking it. And how to push my buttons. The prodding got the best of me, eventually; really, this irritating bitch can get under my skin with an efficiency you can only dream of… but anyway, I was so pissed... like, borderline feral, that even they were surprised. Which, in turn, made me feel like a wreck once I realized what I was doing. So they hammered the last nail into the coffin by putting on their calmest, most civil face, -a rarity, really,- to ask the single, logical question in that situation. And I caved. For a dreadful moment I honest to god thought Kettle would make fun of me, you know. What kind of number two hero has their mother stuck in detox every three months…? Fuck, if not for the bar fight, I wouldn't even know she relapsed two whole years ago already! But, uh… they… seemed to understand. We had a therapy session for peasants at my place, then. Kinda like what we have sometimes. And that's when it really got…” Tongue click. “… heavy.”

Rumi’s ears have been attentive and alert, but hearing this makes them part. She takes a second-long break; there's something that usually helps Hawks sleep a little better. And heart-to-hearts tend to push him over the brink, hell, some nights they do this just so he can get some rest. “… You cried.”

With some delay, he nods. “… I did.”

She lets out a tired sigh. “Managed to weird ‘em out, huh.”

“Actually… it ended up being a half drunk weeping contest for the emotionally constipated,” he muses, eyes staring into a scene from the past, located somewhere past the pen in his right hand. “They opened up a little to me, too. Which was new, but… comforting. I learned that while my mother frequents the station, Kettle’s mom has been hospitalized with a severe case of mental breakdown since they were a teen. They miss her… but cannot visit. They fear that showing their scarred face would make her relive the freak show that resulted in her being sent there in the first place.”

“ … Jesus. Both of you sound like the life of the party when running a hashtag-mood.”

The remark brings back the shadow of his happy smile. “I guess so. But, guess what?”

Hers returns as well; they reached the nice part. “What?”

“I ended up leaning onto Kettle… and them onto me. We hugged it out… and stayed like that for like an hour, the sniffling messes we were. And in the morning… I woke up in the arms of someone, warm and safe… sun shining into the room, little bastard relatives chirping outside. I could even smell fresh coffee being made someplace, coming from the open window. And that… that felt divine.”

Rumi takes a delighted sigh. “The life, bitch. That's… the life.”

“Yeah.”

They lie around like that for a few minutes, sprawled on the counter as the noises of the still busy restaurant creep back into their little bubble before it inevitably pops. Hawks breaks the comfortable silence then. “All in all… I admit that you have been right about me all along.”

Her feet bounce an increasingly impatient rhythm against the metal frame as her mood and blood pressure lift back to normal. “Right about what? You are a felon for not supporting pugs, an abomination for even daring to look at pineapple pizza, and an absolute disgrace for turning down ghost peppers! Be more clear, dammit.”

Hawks tosses the long forgotten pen onto the form pile and leans in closer, hiding his mouth with his hands from view. He breathes it in a whisper so low, only people with superhuman hearing or big ole rabbit ears could catch his voice right now. It’s time to make her day, too. “Rumi, I think… I'm hella gay.”

She reflexively does a little hop on the stool as a very high pitched “Holy shit…!” escapes her mouth, turning some heads. Seeing that it's the two of them up to their usual shenanigans, the few people return to their own worries and discussions.

It takes her inhuman effort not to screech like a hare on the spot; punching the air and gasping for it, she calms down eventually. Having found a semblance of self-restraint, she leans back down in, aggressively whispering to him: “First of all, told you so, and more importantly!! Bitch, you're in love, and didn't tell me?!”

As much as Hawks enjoyed watching her outburst, he finds himself sinking behind his arms now. The incessant grin is back in its full glory and is starting to hurt his cheeks, which have turned very pink in color. An unconvincing “nah” is the only thing he can muster.

Rumi breaks into some light-hearted cackling as she moves over, then gently peels Hawks’ defenses off of him to have a closer look. “Bruuuh…! You are in full rose textured shojo manga mode. That's adorable.”

There’s an attempt at rebuilding said defenses. “Shut it, you overgrown furry.”

She’s unperturbed by the lukewarm defensive taunt. “And you kinda smell like smoke from up close, too~ It’s your first love, right? Aaah, baby boy’s growing up, I’m so happy for you…!” With that, Hawks receives a spine shattering hug.

“Rumimyribs,” is all he can squeak before the gesture does more than just some joint popping. He’s had a near-death experience with these ever since the first time she did that, holy shit.

“Hee hee~ I didn’t forget you’ve got bones made of glass, don’t worry.” She pops back down onto her seat while Hawks gets over the scare. “Sooo... when are you gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?”

“It’s… just a crush, man. He’s… not my boyfriend…” Even thinking about it feels weird… and saying it… really is something else.

She nods. “He doesn’t know it yet! Gotcha.”

Siiigh. “Girl, I can’t just…” STOP, stop… hold the damn phone right there. Ending that sentence would birth more questions to dodge, and he’s not up for brain work at the moment. With a dismissive wave, Hawks restarts the answer. “Anyway, you've seen him already at the very least, so there’s that.” That's all she needs to know- they both know a number of people with fucked-up faces, she won’t admit possibly having missed him, and this… will destroy her.

“… well shit. Now I'll stay up at night wondering who the fuck it might be.”

Bingo. “You’re welcome.”

“Asshole,” she huffs, swatting his hair before settling for a good ruffling. “… say, baby bird.”

“Hm?”

“Want a drink? It's on me. Let's pop one in honor of your heart throb and first crush.”

... uh-oh. “… Rumi.”

“I hope you know this calls for some supreme shit… let me look for a good place nearby, for after this hell is over.”

She's already typing into her phone. Oh no.

“Rumi.” This does not bode well. He has so much shit to do tomorrow. And here’s this pile of junk, most of which he’s yet to have a look at…

“How’s a Zombie sound?”

“RUMI,,,”

#miruko #hawks #bnha miruko #bnha Hawks #dabihawks #even though Dabi's not here #bnha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #Kate writes

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vintagemiserie · 6 years

Text

yeah!!! 2k worth of mob au, 1.1k of fluff and .9k of plot!! tl;dr theres fluff and plot

Patrick awoke slowly, feeling Joe mess with Patrick’s hair. It was soothing, a calm before the storm. Sure, it was a Sunday, and while Patrick didn't go to church aside from holidays and Joe rarely went to his synagogue, they still kept it as a quiet off-day so they could do paperwork and, more importantly, hang out together. He pushed himself against Joe, making it clear that he was awake. Joe put his arms around Patrick, and they sat there for a while without speaking or really moving at all.

“Are you hungry, Patrick?” Joe asked after a little while. “Because I am, that's why I'm asking.”

“I’m not really hungry yet.”

“Mm. Okay, you wanna get up?”

“If you get up, I'll get up.”

Joe pushed a kiss to Patrick's neck and got up and stretched, dressing slowly enough that Patrick got up before he left.

“How much are we dressing up today, babe?” Patrick asked quietly, leaning against the bed to keep weight off of his wounded leg.

“I'm thinking that I'll be wearing a hat today, so pretty formal, I, um.. I wanna get that meeting done with Saporta today. Kinda fed up, yeah?”

“Can that be the only thing we actually have to deal with today?”

“That's all I was planning. I was figuring it'll only take an hour or two at most. Hey, what d’you want for breakfast.”

“I dunno.”

Joe thought a moment, buttoning up his shirt as he did so. “Mm. How 'bout this: you take a shower and get ready and I surprise you? 'Cause what I want, I think you'll really like.”

Patrick giggled, taking a few quick steps up to Joe and kissing him. “You're accent is adorable, and I think that sounds great.”

Joe laughed. “Is it still that noticeable? I think I've gotten better, though.”

“Eees eet steel vaaat noteeeceeble? I seeenk I’ffff—” Patrick started laughing too hard to continue, and put his arms around Joe. “God, Joey, I don't wanna do shit, I just wanna sit around and cuddle with you all day.”

“I don't either, honestly. But we need to get work done, okay, I'll—” Joe kissed Patrick once, then twice, then again, a third time. “I'm gonna finish getting dressed, then I'll get breakfast made and we can talk and shit.”

“Okay.” Patrick released him with a quick kiss. “I love you, babe, thanks for cooking breakfast for me!”

Joe finished getting dressed and Patrick wandered to their bathroom and took a shower. Stray thoughts of the food being poisoned crossed his mind, but dissolved quickly when he was reminded by the fact that Joe was, well, Joe, and he would never do anything bad to him ever. When Patrick washed himself and got dressed, he was still cooking, in fact. Patrick decided not to spoil himself, instead going to sit down on the couch and give his leg a break.

It was latkes. Latkes were the breakfast, which Joe brought out with, of all things, an apology that they weren't exactly in season yet, and he was trying out a new recipe that was more German and less Jewish than he normally made them, and he knew Patrick usually liked the more Jewish recipe he usually used, and Patrick could only get him to shut up by kissing him. They were a bit bigger than usual, kind of like pancakes, and covered in cooked apples and cinnamon. It was absolutely delicious, which he made sure to remind Joe after nearly every bite. Joe seemed a little surprised by it too, honestly. “Joey, can you make this for breakfast every day for the rest of our lives, please?” Patrick asked when he finished, putting his head on Joe's shoulder. “That's so damn good, I'm serious.”

“Yeah, I'm gonna have to keep that recipe, I was worried about how good it'd be.” Joe put an arm around Patrick. “How's your leg doing, my darling?”

“I took a shower on it, I walked on it, it still fuckin’ hurts.”

Joe frowned. “I can go and get work done myself, if it's that bad.”

“No, no, I.. even if it's, um, even if it's Sunday, I’m gonna get stuff done with you. I've been wanting to get out and work with you ever since I got hurt, y’know.”

“If you're really in pain, I'll call it off and walk you back here and we'll stay home the rest of the day, okay? I'm gonna try to make it okay for you.”

“It's going to be okay, Joe, don't worry about me.”

“I love you, baby, I'm allowed to be worried. Seeing you in pain really hurts me, honestly.”

“I… shucks, Joe, that's…” Patrick was halfway through going into a hug when Joe started laughing.

“You can't make fun of my accent when you've got one that's not even from around here!” He said, pulling a still-confused Patrick into a hug and kiss.

“Well, my dad was Southern, so, so I kinda got his accent,” Patrick mumbled once he pulled away, eyebrows furrowed as he tried to think it through. “Not really, though, 'cause I don't really have a drawl that much, I, I mean..”

“It doesn't matter, Rickster. It doesn't. I’m gonna finish getting ready, if you're ready to go.”

“I—you look fine, though, we can just go.”

“Nah, I'm gonna find a jacket, I didn't want to get powdered sugar on one before leaving, and I'm gonna brush my hair and get a hat.”

Patrick shrugged, frowning slightly as they separated. Joe stepped to the bathroom with a comb, so Patrick sat for a few moments before getting up to find that cane they were working on. He hated the thing, he didn't want it. Like, God-be-damned, he was barely 20, he didn't want to be a cripple that young. But as much as he hated it, it actually helped him out to some extent, and he figured Joe wouldn't let him walk out of the door without it, anyways just in case. Patrick found it, screwing and unscrewing the top-piece as he thought through how the cane worked, what the exact mechanism of the top-piece is. Once he got a good idea of how it worked, how the blade was embedded into the piece, he stepped to the door and pulled on a hat. Joe showed up after five or so minutes, his hair vaguely tamed, and pulled a hat on as well, his curls fighting against it despite his efforts. “Alright. I don't think those were that filling, so I think we'll have a pretty early lunch, yeah? Good time to talk to Saporta, too.”

“Sounds good. Are we gonna hang in the lounge until lunch?”

“That's what I was thinking, yeah.” Joe kissed Patrick quickly, then opened the door. “After you?”

Patrick laughed, but stepped out anyways. They made their way to the elevator and ended up arm-in-arm in the bar, grabbing a couple beers and heading next to the lounge. They played a game or two of pool, Patrick winning not out of skill but out of Joe being absolutely horrible at it. Joe grabbed another beer and Patrick got himself a glass of wine and they cuddled on one of the lounge's couches until nearly one. At that point, Joe got up (with Patrick following after him) and scanned the lounge for Saporta. Then the bar—there he was, flirting with a poor girl who just wanted to get herself some alcohol without getting prosecuted for it. Joe stepped over, stopping Saporta dead in his,tracks. “You're coming with us, Saporta,” Joe said, in a dark tone that Patrick rarely heard outside of business. Saporta laughed nervously, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Haha, I'm actually, Boss, I'm actually in the middle of—”

Joe reached into an inside pocket and pulled out a pistol, something Patrick forgot to grab. Saporta stopped laughing, although he mumbled something to the girl as he stood. Patrick decided that he'd stay as just a trophy husband (boyfriend?) during the meeting, Joe dealt more with the whole reprimanding thing, and he just wasn't good at being angry at them. He had a reputation to uphold.

Joe was pulling them along to their usual pizza place, a quick ten-minute walk and another minute or so to get set down. “So what's this about, Boss-man?” Saporta asked, adjusting himself in his seat. He looked serious, somehow.

“You know why we're talking,” Joe replied.

“I… look, I've been busy dealing with the Cobras, I haven't been having time to do specific, uh, business stuff. Been workin’ with the New York sector.”

“That's interesting, because Asher and Blackington are in New York right now, and Suarez 'n’ Novarro have been doing some damn good security work for some of our newer buildings.”

“I, I, look, Trohman, I’ve been—”

“You aren't fuckin’ working, Gabe, that's what you've been up to!”

Saporta was stunned until after they ordered, hell, even then he was speechless.

“Darling, how much do you think we should cut his pay?”

“Joe, I'm bad at this, you know that,” Patrick mumbled. It was true, he was much too empathetic to be good at truly running their business. It was good for new recruits, he supposed, who he begged Joe to pay upwards of four dollars an hour, but he'd had nights to figure out how they'd punish Saporta and his suggestions really wouldn't sting at all.

“I'm thinking we cut it in half.”

Patrick kept himself from telling Joe that maybe they should just give him a warning, that maybe that was too much, and instead took a deep breath.

“How about… how about no pay, no pay until he actually starts working?” Patrick said. He had no clue whether or not something like that would actually work, but it made Saporta flinch, so he supposed it would work well enough.

“That sounds like.. like a great idea, Patrick,” Joe said. He smiled, genuine and super cute. He looked back to Saporta. “You heard him. After we pay, I'm expecting you to get off your ass and start working. Half pay for a month after you actually do so, and half pay every time you start slacking off afterwards. You got it?”

Saporta seemed to consider arguing for a moment, but resigned himself. “Yessir,” He said. They got their pizza, and ate quickly. They paid the ten-dollar bill for Saporta and left with him.

“Hey, Gabe?” Patrick said, wiggling out of Joe's grasp for a moment to speak.

“Yes?”

“I'm.. I'm really sorry. We just need you to do your job, yeah? I feel really bad for doing this, since we're so close, but I… it's necessary.”

“I understand, Boss. I guess it's what I deserve. I just didn't…”

“You didn't think you'd get caught?”

“I guess.”

Patrick smiled. “Y’know, Joe was suggesting a lot damn worse than what you got. I like having you around.”

“Thanks, Boss.”

“Of course.” Patrick smiled at him, then caught up to Joe. “Didn't want him to feel super terrible, Joey. I know that's what you were going for, but I just.. I felt bad for being so ruthless to him. Had to clear my conscience.”

“It's fine, Rick. I think that was a pretty good idea, honestly. You wanna do work when we get home?”

“I don't really have that much work to do, actually. I got through most of the paperwork while I couldn't walk.” Patrick laughed. “Feel free to do your work, though, I think I'm done for the day.”

Joe found his hand and squeezed it. “I think I’m done, too, I'm not particularly in the mood to do stuff. Hey, you're using the cane!” He strayed at the door of the bar to let Saporta step in.

“Yeah, I am. Hm, Joe, how about we grab some liquor before going upstairs, I'll mix us up some drinks.”

“Sounds perfect.” Joe kissed Patrick, quick and soft. “You have no idea how in love I am with you, Patrick, no clue.”

Patrick laughed. They got the alcohol, then made a beeline to the elevator. “I think you're the clueless one, babe.”

He only just shoved the alcohol bottles when Joe spun him around and pulled him into a deep kiss. Patrick moved his hands to Joe's cheeks, readily reciprocating.

“It's gonna be a good evening,” Joe managed when he broke away, the two of them catching their breaths before moving back in for more.

#this isnt proofread lol hopefully it actually reads well #joetrick #mob au #my writing #im actually p proud of this i think idk alkfjdlakj #it took a couple days to write at least

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rachywritessomething · 4 years

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My “brick and mortar” MLM horror story

So, I figure a lot of my subs and mutuals are younger folks who will be looking for a solid source of income this summer and if you are looking for a marketing position, you could be sucked into something you really don’t want to do.

In San Diego, there are A LOT of these multi level marketing type companies that prey (yes, prey) upon young, energetic people. I have been sucked into one and the resulting stress of working 60+ hours a week of that utter bs made me so sick that I was going into the urgent care clinic before work every other week. Ulcers, UTIs, ear infections... just a lot of shit that I’ve not dealt with on such a substantial level since I was very young.

I’ll tell you the story of how I got sucked in.

tl;dr I was so caught up in this MLM that I didn’t get to see my grandpa before he died.

The summer after my JR year of college, I was late in finding an internship because I had been studying abroad and a lot of places ignored my requests for phone interviews. It was not a huge deal because I had already planned on taking the fall semester off to work anyway. The week before I flew out to Cali, I got a call requesting an interview. The receptionist who called me (a sweet gal who left the company shortly after I did) told me that my resume looked solid and that they would love to interview me. I informed her I would be in Cali by the end of the week to which she responded:

“We’ll get you in for an interview as soon as possible. Our hiring window is closing and we only have a limited number of spaces.”

This is a sales tactic I would soon learn. It’s called “fear of loss” and by making something seem limited, you create a sense of urgency in the person you’re trying to sell to.

Now, this job was advertised as “sports marketing” which seemed kind of jocky to me, but I had marketing experience and I was in excellent shape so I figured it would be easy to step into a workplace dominated by men.

I was so wrong.

So, the first thing I discovered when I went into my first interview is that this marketing company took up one small office. Most of it consisted of a lobby like section with a TV and a pool table. They were also playing up-beat electronic music. It wasn’t quite what I expected from a professional work setting, but I didn’t mind.

My first “interview” was a five minute conversation with the boss, a man I would grow to resent. He asked me about what I liked, he asked me if I played sports, he asked me about a “team mentality” and I told him what he wanted to hear because I really wanted a paid job. When he talked about the job itself, he skirted around the details and focused mostly on compensation.

They won’t tell you exactly what you’re going to be doing right off the bat. They want to make you feel like it’s an exclusive opportunity.

I was invited back for a second interview which got into more detail about the sales. We were told we only needed to sell to one lead a day to be able to make the big bucks which “sounds easy, right?” Right.

The one thing they mentioned that struck me as a red flag was that we would be working 11:00-8:00 6 days a week. But I brushed it off because it’s all about the grind, right?

Wrong. This job was not some cushy office job even though we were required to show up to work wearing suits. It was direct marketing, which is door to door sales. From 11:00-20:00, we were at the office in out business professional clothing for the morning meeting, during which we were indoctrinated.

Yes. Indoctrinated.

These meetings were about how this job would make you the most money out of any job. My boss would sometimes have us throw out our “greatest desires” which always translated to something flashy from my coworkers. On one occasion, I was nearly driven to tears because my boss kept telling me to list what I wanted. Now, I’m not going to say I’m not material, but I honestly want to just live comfortably, not buy a mansion and a boat. I wanted contentment with my living situation but that was NOT an answer.

The main ideas that these meetings pushed were that you had to grind and suffer now so that in ten years you could live in the lap of luxury. You could make hella money without raising a finger. Anyone who worked in anything else didn’t know how to live because they would not be able to retire at 30. It was all about hustling and having a good attitude.

From 12:00-1:00, we had an hour off which was actually spent driving to some fast food place for lunch, changing into our field clothes, and then driving to the field itself.

We were in the field from 1:00 - 8:00 with no individual vehicle. We had no means of leaving and in many cases we were in very residential areas which means there was no place to use the restroom. We were supposed to ask when we made a sale.

Now, what I’d like to impress is that I was the only sales woman in the office for a while and when we went to the field, we were alone in the field. So the first thing I realized was that even in uniform, men whistled, watched, and followed me. The first few weeks were not so bad because it was summer and it was light out until 8:00 p.m. which was when I was picked up from my neighborhood, but that did not last. Being alone in the dark was NOT something I was comfortable with, and requesting that I get picked up earlier was out of the question.

It’s about the grind after all.

There was one instance in particular when I told one of my managers that I had been followed for several blocks and was forced out of my area so I could try to shake this guy. He laughed like it was just a funny thing to happen at work.

I didn’t even bother to try to point out that being without access to a restroom for 7+ hours a day was not practical for me. I took to wearing black pants when I was on my period and walking to gas stations or stores if I was so lucky to be within a mile of them. Thankfully I was never caught walking out of my territory because that’s a big no-no.

As were taking breaks.

We could sit down when we made a sale.

Now, I want you to picture someone coming up to your door, knocking, and striking up a conversation with you. They want to sell you AT&T. Yes. Fucking AT&T. You’re obviously going to slam the door in their face and honestly, I don’t blame you.

I would get a sale about every other day. I actually wasn’t too bad at it. But I was starting to get sick from all this. Like, can’t sleep kind of sick. So my attitude isn’t as great, I’m lethargic, I’m wandering onto hiking paths because I’m in enough pain or I’m nauseous enough that I can’t open my mouth. Then the sales stop.

It’s 100% commission so I’m not making any money. I am, however, losing $60/week in gas to drive 30 minutes to and from this place. Oh, and remember what I said about this job running from 11:00-8:00? Yea, that’s a lie. We often wouldn’t get back from the field until 9:00, and then we had to do daily breakdowns which never lasted less than a half hour. Thursday nights were team bonding nights because why the fuck not. We played sports, video games, and we even went to Dave&Busters a few times. I liked the “away” team nights because I could cry in my car for a little bit before going.

Skipping team night was a big no-no too.

Here I was, getting sicker and sicker, worrying over my ability to make any money at all, and trying to justify taking time off work because I wanted to fly back to Indiana to see my grandpa one last time.

Did I mention he was dying?

Yes, I kept putting off this trip because I felt this irrational desire to get back on the horse and make something for myself first. It wasn’t even a matter of buying tickets because my mom said she would buy them for me. She knew I wasn’t making any money. She knew I was getting sick.

My whole family wanted me to stop. I was working six days a week and on the one day I had off, I couldn’t bring myself to do anything because I was so socially exhausted. No going to the beach, no hiking, no nothing. I just sat in my parents’ apartment and tried to will myself to go to the pool.

My last day of work was my final straw. My boss was getting angry because I wasn’t making any sales and I had a bad attitude. My homework for the weekend then was to send in proof that I had been “networking” in with my weekly goals (because we actually had to submit weekly goals every Sunday anyway) I went home, I did nothing that Sunday.

Monday rolled around and I was up early and dressed to go to work, but I was writing because it was November and it was the only thing I could enjoy. My older sister worked not too far from my parents’ place and she came over for breakfast.

She told me she would pay me $500 to paint her boyfriend’s rental.

“You like painting, you’re good at it, and you’ll actually make money.”

I called my boss then to tell him I was quitting, but he didn’t pick up the phone and he didn’t have an empty mailbox. I called the receptionist to tell her and she begged me to come in to tell them in person.

I didn’t. I wasn’t about to relive the shame of begging my boss for a day off after I had already driven to the office because I was so sick. No. That’s just a waste of gas.

I put on sweats, I hopped in my car, and I drove to the rental to paint. It was the happiest I had been in months. For a week, I worked on my own time, almost completely isolated from other people. For lunch, my sister and her boyfriend would take me out to eat, or they’d bring me food, and there was no rush to finish.

In that week, I did more than paint because I was able to get so much done in a day. I sanded, stained, and finished the railings. I cleaned the entire house top to bottom. I scrubbed grout and filled in every single ding and dent in the walls.

And I made more that week than I had in two months of misery.

My mom bought the tickets to Indiana because we had no conflict. I finished my NaNo novel. My sister, my brother, and I went out to the bars and actually hung out. I went to the beach with my dogs which I am so grateful for because my sweet Ellie ended up dying a few months later after I had returned to school.

My grandpa died the day before we flew to Indiana. Before I moved to Cali, he told me that of his 20 grandkids, he saw me the most. I could have been there sooner if I would have had the courage to push back against the shame and indoctrination that this company had thrown on me. That is the thing I regret the most.

So please, if you find yourself in one of these companies, GET OUT. Whether they’re online or d2d, your mental health, physical health, and your social well-being are not worth these ridiculous, materialistic ideas they throw on you.

#mlm company #pyramid schemes

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dinacharya · 5 years

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Chapter 2. aka, Adele 25 therapy

what are tumblrs for if not for ridiculous oversharing and creeping into people’s lives you have no business being in, right?

disclaimer: it’s a saturday night, 11:45pm to be exact, and i’m 4 hours deep into listening to Adele’s 25 album on repeat. i’ve also micro-dosed. or maybe regular dosed, depends who you ask. For all intents and purposes here, I’m calling it a micro because i very much have a grip even if my trusty wall tapestry is doing pretty things, and I had a very clear intention diving in.

the tl;dr is that this 25-year old’s solo post-break up trip is a fucking cleanse and this is the vibe I’m fully on right now:

lol so, how did we get there:

well waking up from last night’s binge smoking, gaming & sugar session (which was honestly much needed - shout out to the peeps who were there for that) didn’t feel the hottest, obviously. but crushed that shit with more sleep and getting back into jillian michaels* in my living room and eating a healthy lunch and whatnot.

*side note: i’m sure she’s made millions already, but in this era with all the IG fitness models and influencers out there i still think jillian michaels is queen and underrated. 20 mins of jumping around and flailing weights, guided by her via TV is literally all i need to be like woh bitch i’m back. haha.

now: you know how there are just those random people in your life that perhaps weren’t around all that long or maybe they had an impact on you that you only realized later? or maybe you just never shared with them how much they meant to you, because you didn’t even know. so there are a couple of those i’m going to bring up here (no names).

starting with one - a friend from my NYC juice bar days, we spent many a wintery days and hours cooped up in that tiny shop kicking ass honestly with grade A difficult customers. she was one of my favorites to work with - so fun to laugh, with gossip with, just share a space with. i have so many fond memories of night shifts there, snow falling outside the windows. people coming in for smoothies at 10:45pm making us wonder what the fuck?

she was stunning, tall, beautiful effortless skin and bone structure and all that, she just glowed. she was always lifting up other girls around her while shaming herself. i get it, that’s just what we do, that’s what I do. but fact is she was a straight 12/10 no question. anyways, we lost touch. we all know how that whole restaurant went down in sad flames with our owner locked up at rikers (if you don’t know of the psycho saga via vogue’s coverage, and want to hear a first-hand account, that’s for another day, it’s honestly a fun one to tell). so all the people in my life from the restaurant, who were what felt like home to me in NY, kind of faded out with time.

anyways, she’s one of those people for me that still pops into mind from time to time and i just wonder what she’s up to and miss her. so today in my idle morning of moping around, she popped into mind and a quick social media search led me to find her humble page and podcast she’s just recently started - and i ended up listening to a couple episodes because, lord knows i’m a podcast nerd. but i had a chance to hear her story and how much i didn’t know of her background when we were friends back then, and what a light she still was to those around her was pretty amazing. she did say that her time in nyc was a bit of a blur that’s hard to remember because she was struggling at the time. it hurts my heart to know that, but at the same time i definitely can relate. generally i’d say living in nyc, as a student or not, can feel very isolating and while i have a lot of very vivid memories and recollections, a lot of that time is also a blur for me now the more distance i get from it.

anyways, so kind of reflecting on all that this afternoon while mozy-ing around in bed was one part of today’s journey. one bit that was also huge was hearing her talk about her overeating/binge & restrictive eating disorder during that time, which is something i’ve tried to vocalize to my friends and family and even doctor but generally isn’t taken all that seriously. when in fact these habits i haven’t addressed are probably the most crucial detriment to my health. it turns out there’s such a thing as overeaters-anonymous. like AA but for people with compulsive eating problems. that’s 100% me, so this was a HUGE discovery today for me that something like this exists. i’m not going to say i’ll walk straight into a meeting this second, but i’m definitely interested. as carly whose lived with me for the last 3 years could easily tell you better than anyone else, i have a hell of a fucking problem and i don’t even know if i understand it fully myself.

part 2:

coincidentally, around mid day I happened to get a text from an old NY roommate, someone I hadn’t heard from in over a year probably, so it was pretty out of the blue. I always perceived her to be like an older sister figure, a funny lady from Malaysia with a heavy accent and a strong attitude, doing her best to fit into American culture, dating apps, heavy into the astrology shit, and all. Anyways, she hit me up because she was concerned she couldn’t find me on social media anymore (quickly resolved) and she mentioned that she enjoyed seeing my DIY stuff on IG stories and that it was serving as inspiration for some future business she’s been envisioning once she gets out of corporate life in Pittsburgh, PA. It was all endearing and sweet. i have heard from friends before that my IG could be turned into something more if i wanted to, but i’ve never had the heart to put more structure to things that just feel like natural parts of me that i want to remain free, if that makes sense. but it’s still nice to know that out there somewhere in pennsylvania the random things i do in my kitchen and share into the IG ether can serve as a little inspo for a roommate from 5 years ago. also it was just a nice reminder to self that in the same way i have these people i admire and root for and wonder about from a distance, maybe there’s room for me to be someone like that for somebody else i’ve crossed paths with. that makes me happy.

So, part 3: hello, Adele.

i haven’t been shy about admitting the last couple months have been a struggle for me. basically since turning 25. even leading up to the big number, all year really i’d been kind of dreading what this age meant. it just feels like it’s gotta be messy whether i want it to be or not. considering every prior year has been a positive & fairly steady uphill climb, i figured at some point i’d have to pause/break/falter. don’t ask me why, age has always been something i’m glued to. (it’s funny because i don’t own a clock, the one watch i have is tucked into my wedding planner e-kit and only comes out on those days. given my job title and being a virgo and all, time has oddly never been a day to-day concern for me. (those who know me know i am never on time for anything, sorry) but i’ve always been hyper concerned about my age and the expectations (self imposed, inescapable) that come looming with it*. so birthday season usually is just a very introspective time every year where i evaluate where i’m at, the progress i’ve made, what’s holding me back, what i’m proud of, what i’m not proud of.

*quick side story, the person i’ve dated all year always would say our age difference was nothing. but that statement always irked me because it’s far from the truth. every year 20, 21, 22, 23, 24 i’ve felt i’ve learned exponentially about myself and grown. so yeah, there’s a HUGE difference, emotionally/self-awareness, all that, between 22 and 25 if you ask me. like bless my early 20′s for being stoned fun & shit, but girl’s been putting in work too ya know?

anyways, back on track: come time for my birthday this year i didn’t really want to think too hard about it and just wanted to have fun, and i did! it was definitely one of the more fun/eventful birthdays i can recall.

but now, 2 months post-birthday, fresh off of a break up, I’m beginning to see more clearly why I pushed all that usual introspective evaluation under the rug. essentially it’s what i’ve done all year, pretending 22 - 25 is nothing, and that all the work i’d done to get here was whatever. i’d taken steps back self-esteem wise, kind of let my work fall by the wayside just as something to do and not something i was excited about (which is more my norm), and i realize i wasnt being present in the right ways to friendships that mean the most to me. All in favor of some shiny beacon of excitement, being sucked into this vortex of conditional relationships* and “fun” where i frankly just had no place being.

*linked there ^ is a stellar article, when you’re ready for it

THANK GOD FOR MY FRIENDS. seriously i don’t say this enough. I have been FREAKING BLESSED by the people who choose to be in my life. like fuck yo i know it’s FACT i have not been the most pleasant to be around or hear from this year but the true ones persisted and showed me love when I needed it most, were there for me constantly through all the thick of it and still are. like those calls every day just to chat about what the fuck ever, those random “i’m thinking of you’s” and “let’s hangs” mean so much to me in my isolated world of working from home and just being a general homebody type. let me just promise to all of you once i’m out of this present messiness, that I’ll be back on track. i’ve hated being that girl, i’ve heard myself, and i’ve hated it. so while I’ve been kind of MIA morphing into something i haven’t been proud of, thank you to every single friend who’s reminded me there was still something here worthy of your time and your energy and your attention.

*now, much less saving me, I get to start showing up for you guys better too.

i’ve explained this to close friends before who have experienced it with me - psychedelics are one of my favorite ways to get a grip on my life. of course, i understand their role in fun experiences too, but i’ve always valued it first and foremost as a powerful mind-opening tool. (so naturally, i adore michael pollan’s latest book “how to change your mind”.) when i’m feeling overwhelmed or at a crossroads or muddled, i’ve found it to be the most affective way for me to tune into myself, see things with a fresh perspective, and commit to the choices i need to.

so having been on a fucking ride with these breakup emotions, knee deep in self-pity, not knowing what to make of the past year, past month, past week, & where i’m at... i was like,

why the fuck not?

just what i needed on a night to myself to give my soul a fucking cleanse. it’s a convenient weekend to have the house all to myself. read: a good place to be singing at the top of my lungs haha and doing whatever the fuck my single ass wishes all night. somehow along the way, i managed to cook up a pretty A+ tikka masala sauce and prepped a brussel sprouts salad for a dinner with friends tomorrow night, don’t ask me how. i’ve had a spiritual fucking connection to every single song on this Adele 25 album, obviously. idk why it hadn’t occurred to me until doing this that i’m now 25 listening to this album :) so all of this is to say:

Thank you, Adele.

for being a girl i can identify with who marks progress with age, unabashedly tunes into her emotions, and provides breakup comfort like no other. even though i refused to listen to this album until like a year ago

(also can we just take a moment to appreciate that Adele posted this on her own IG profile)

Thanks to those who aren’t necessarily at the frontlines of my life, but have a place in my heart, whether you know it or not, and bring forth some amazing shit or tune in at the right times.

Thank you, most sincerely, to each and every one of my friends that I won’t name here.

Close and far, you’re the ones pulling me out of a drudge of a year where I lost myself and you’re reminding me what I love to do and who I am and it feels good to get a footing again.

~ ciao, finally @ 1:43am.

p.s. below is THE picture of what i’ve been like for the last couple weeks ~ can always count on a new girl reference to have my back heheh

*we can also mark this as the night where i FINALLY get over my weird thing about not liking “Hello.” That shit’s a fucking masterpiece who was i to say anything otherwise hahaha

#journal #woh this some reaaal journaling huh haha

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fuck-customers · 7 years

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TL;DT at bottom

Last couple days have been a nightmare. Tuesday- assistant manager tells me all the mid tasks are done and I just need to worry about my closing tasks. Cool. Turns out literally NONE of the tasks were done. Not one. And that morning the store was closed for an extra 4 hours because the company's update on our POS system crashed, people were not happy. So I finish them, whatever. I start my period literally 45 minutes from when my shift started. EVEN BETTER. A girl who is in training calls and says she's going to be late. How late? She can't give me an estimate. Phone rings again, my closer's car broke down and she might be late (at least she called an hour ahead). Wednesday-talk to my manager about the previous day, her response "oh I'm so sorry I was in a meeting with our district manager" THEN EHY DID YOU TELL ME THEY WERE DONE? I had to do her tasks at the end of the night before! Plus I had two girls who hate each other and I have to try and keep them separated in a small bar area where everyone is literally within five feet of each other for 8 hours. And listen to them bitch about one another (love the drama, hate that I'm their supervisor ) Thursday- my fiance is sick and I've been up all night and morning taking care of him. Guess what, allergies weren't allergies I have a cold now. Can't call in because every supervisor is working or unavailable (yet I signed a contract stating I wouldn't go to work sick?) Anyways go in and everything is a disaster. The lobby is gross, trash overfilled, lines of customers who are all upset. Midday shift hands me the keys to the store and takes her break. Before I clocked in. I still had my purse on my shoulder and sunglasses on my head. No apron either. Jump right in and it's like everyone wants to talk to the manager. All I want to do is get my coworkers in order and figure out what happened and how can I make everything fluid again. But instead I have to run around like a chicken with its head cut off trying to talk to angry customers and also help make drinks and get everyone's food. End of the day I was dead. Friday- Lady calls and wants her receipt from two days ago. Can't remember her order or what time she came in (literally the only two ways I can search for it) finally found it after ten minutes and she asked if I could mail it to her. Now I am a lowly employee who is in charge of smaller employees at a retail cafe. Plus that isn't even a thing. I told her she would have to come by and we could print it. Says shell swing by tonight. Never came. I finally take my lunch and I'm already sick, pmsing, and slept maybe 8 hours in the last 3 days combined. It's the first time this week I actually sit down and try to enjoy my 30 minute break. Not one, not two, but three employees needed me. One for a void on a transaction (which could have waited until I came back),two a customer wanted to know the ingredients in a drink (the person on POS could have told me instead of saying a customer wanted to speak with me), three an employee wanted to know how to make something but literally the directions are on the packet. Ended up telling everyone to leave me the fuck alone and me and one other girl (who is a dear friend of mine) and I got into a screaming fit in the back room. Saturday (today): tried to request the day off two months ago but my manager said already four people requested it off. It's the two year anniversary of my father's death and I would love to spend it with my family (we're an emotional group). No can do. AND TO TOP THE LIST! Literally right after I clock on and get on the floor I hear screaming coming from the drive thru window. It was along the lines of: "WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU! I HAVNT SEEN YOU BEFORE! EVERYONE HERE KNOWS MY ORDER!" Fortunately another supervisor was there and she said she'd handle it. THANK GOD! I still hear screaming and cussing so I decide to come over and see what the problem was because everyone in our lobby was looking over the counter, watching as this chick was trying to open her car door. I told her she needed to calm down and lower her voice, TWICE. I almost brought out my phone so if she did try to jump through our window I had evidence (AND A YOUTUBE VIDEO). She scoffed and sat back down in her car and bitched about how rude I was and how rude the other girl was and she's a regular how dare we treat her like this (she's like this EVERY morning. She has a reputation yet our manager won't ban her). Anyways go on about the day and try to push to the finish line. Guy come by walks slightly behind the counter to grab a broom (TOTAL NO GO ZONE. I WAS HERE WHEN MY STORE WAS ROBBED DO NOT COME BEHIND THE COUNTER!). So I said the typical "sir, can I HELP you?" "Well I'd didnt want to have your girls clean the men's room." First of all our two restrooms are gender neutral because they are singles. Second, I've cleaned vomit from sinks, clogged toilets, period blood, shit on the floors, piss, and whatever that thing was in the corner. Third of all, and have I mentioned it, DONT GO BEHIND MY COINTER. Dude also looked like a drug dealer who would sell you an ounce of weed for $5 or a ride to the nearest 711. Then another guy came in and one of the girls told me a couple of nights ago her and a male friend were at a nearby gasstation and he made sexual motions towards her. So I told her to go into the back room take her break and I'll keep an eye on him. I walk by him later in the night and he tried to say something to me. Fortunately my fiance was there and told him "don't talk to her". Shut his ass down fast. My fiance is NOT a fighter but if someone is making me uncomfortable he will shut that shit down. He's amazing like that. So the rest of the night my fiance say at the table closest to my register so he can keep an eye on the creeper. FIANLLY 3 MINUTES UNTIL CLOSING and a MOB of people come in wanting drinks upon drinks. I take their orders and tell everyone in the lobby if they're not waiting on their order they need to leave and the store is officially closed. Crepper dude comes up and my fiance snaps up and goes between us and he's like "yo I just want to use the restroom" YA! "no sire the store is officially closed." And just as if someone answered my prayers because a security guard came in and escorted that specific person out of the store. Just so happens during his smoke break my fiance had a chit chat with the security guard. Good news is a competition company wants to take me with better paid, same benefits, longer lunch, as a supervisor with the same schedule and hours, and my store manager could possible be my old supervisor (who I replaced) who actually appreciates my hard work and is also a friend of mine. Honestly if she gets that promotion I'm gone from this stupid ass company. Only thing keeping me is it's two cities away (managable but my car broke down and my only method of transportation is by train. And I'd be closing at the dead of night taking the train where there's been a LOT of crime.) TL;DR: Week was one of the roughest. Ended up with some lady screaming bloody murder over a $5 drink. Fiance had to fend off this creepy ass guy. Managers suck. Customers suck. But I might get a better job that's exactly the same but o get more out of it.

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swooncraft · 7 years

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Hello all. I’m going to do my best to be concise and not sound sad or dejected in anyway in this note. And because I personally get annoyed by tl;dr’s being after walls of text I’ll start there.

TL;DR, Swoon worked and studied herself to the bone during the spring semester, and fainted ending up in the ER. Health insurance didn’t pay as much as expected, the out of pocket expenses are $1,275.

Now for the expanded version. This might seem a little disjointed at first, but it all comes together to explain why I wound up in the ER.

I’m trying to get a career in biosciences and started college in summer 2016. Before this I’ve been in the food/restaurant industry for the past 12 years, which is wearing me out. The fall semester went great and while my pursuits don’t require it, my counselor suggested I take a chemistry course for some better science foundation. I was not prepared for the amount of studying chemistry would require. My main classes suffered a little, my relationships suffered a little, and the work I was doing in my restaurant suffered a little as well. I was loosing sleep and not eating a whole lot either trying to grapple these concepts of things that are invisible to the naked eye, while making sure that I showed up everywhere on the right day at the right time.

I have a psychological disorder that I’d rather not get into, which I handle quietly and on my own, getting all the proper psychiatric evaluations and blood tests done yearly to be a less crazy person. And over the past years with the healthcare marketplace here in California, I’ve had several different providers and primary care physicians, and anyone who goes to a new doctor knows that they want their own new set of tests and screenings. So, along with the regular treatments, my new doctor has labs done that check my immunizations. There’s one that I was missing so she sends me an email telling me to go get it done at my convenience.

This all happens in the beginning of May. Meeting my doctor and the labwork was done on May 1st; interestingly enough, as an extra red flag to this whole thing I found out that I’d unintentionally lost 8 pounds between February and May when I was weighed at my doctors office. She emails me on the third to go sooner than later. I think to myself, it’s near the end of the semester, I have to study for my finals and get a project done for my main bio class, but okay. Friday the 5th I wake up at 8am, head down to the lab, get the shot, immediately feel like I need a drink of water, but ignore it. I was planning on getting back to the side of the city my college is on and getting lunch anyway, so I could wait. I get out of the building and that feeling of needing a drink of water magnifies. I reach the bus stop and sit down and start reading through the side effects listed from the shot I got. As I’m reading about dizziness and vomiting, I get dizzy and break out in a cold sweat. The only thing I can think to do is head back to the lab. I make it to the street corner. Holding the light post for dear life. I think I tried to take a step to cross the street, but all I know for certain is I came back from darkness on the ground with a bunch of people staring at me.

A nurse is there talking to me, asking me all the important things. She wont let me go unless it’s to the ER. Luckily it’s right around the corner, and I’m immediately worrying about how much it’ll cost if they try to get me there in an ambulance. Five or ten minutes later we get there on foot, and while I don’t feel like I’m going to faint again, I still feel dizzier then I ever have.

I was in the ER for a total of maybe an hour and a half, they checked my blood sugar, gave me some juice and apple slices, hooked me up to an EKG, and… did some other kind of body monitor thing, I can’t remember. When they let me leave, and I checked out, they had me pay $250. A month later I get a bill for another $1,275. I have a copy of the claims here for you see.

If you’re a little unfamiliar with healthcare terminology, most plans have a % that is covered and a % that has to be paid for out of pocket or by a ‘co-insurance’ because here in America why have one when you can… pay more people. The total charges are what the entire service cost. It’s broken into two parts because the hospital/ER and the ER doctor are billed separately. The confusing part of this is where it says ‘your plan covers,’ and ‘your costs.’ They’re the same number. What ‘your plan covers’ means is in relation to what your co-insurance needs to pay (not what the billing insurance is paying), or if you don’t have a co-insurance, then that’s what you pay out of pocket. All totaled up, the bill is $2,381, what my insurance covered is $856, the remaining is $1,525, and taking out the $250 I paid to leave the ER, leaves $1,275.

I get the cheaper, less helpful plans each year because I’m generally a healthy person, and the cost of my psychosis is cheaper out of pocket then paying for a more expensive plan to cover it. This is the first time I’ve been to the ER. If I weren’t facing what is likely going to be an unpaid internship in the fall, I would worry about this and pay it off on my own. Given how the spring semester went with over exerting myself and causing this, I don’t want to work more than I can handle to pay this off while affording other basic life things and trying to making up for the time I’ll be spending not getting paid to get into my career. It feels clunky and awkward to ask but, I would greatly appreciate help. https://digitaltipjar.com/swoon

Thank you a ton~

#er trip

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