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#no hoarding that money to yourself you hand some of it over to the community
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People would call you communist for this (lol) but the solution for the housing crisis we have all over is to set a minimum and maximum price per square meter that you can rent/sell a place for and that maximum price per meter should be adjusted so that it never exceeds a specific reasonable percentage of local salaries. Also, governments should be tougher on places not being fit to rent. No, you shouldn't be able to rent anything less than 45m² as 'a flat', that's either a room or a storage unit.
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csmeaner · 2 years
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post related
/post/700086789006917632/gen-rant-reply-it-effects-me-because-of-how People are going to tear you apart for this one and rightly so, but I want to drop some tips on how to deal with this feeling because just last year I was in your exact position: seeing designs I loved being "unused", watching a handful of people hoard the best stuff, etc. And feeling frustrated because of it.
Here's the stuff I did that helped me out a lot. It's not organized in any specific way, but I wanted to put it out there because you aren't the only person I've seen struggle with this.
1. Repeat after me: "IT'S NOT MINE"
Tell yourself this when you start to feel indignant that a design you adore isn't being used how you think it ought to. Your feelings that it would be better off in your possession are totally valid to have, but you need to be careful they don't warp into feelings of entitlement. "I think that Grem would be better off with me," is fine. "That Grem would be better off with me because I would cherish it more than the current owner and they aren't deserving/good enough/etc," is treading a very thin line.
2. What's really going on?
In my experience, when I'm fixated on getting something from CS, it's compensating for something else. For example, my job is going horribly, so I spent a week all but harassing someone trying to get a "dreamy" design they have up for trade. Once my offerings were exhausted, I realized that I'm feeling stressed and incapable and I was transferring those feelings to this object. Getting that design would somehow replace the awful feelings I was having at my job.
I've started a new job search in earnest and practice interview questions daily (I'm terrible with interviews, haha). Guess what? I don't want that trade anymore. Making moves to improve my situation has given me the kind of control I was trying to get when I dumped almost my entire TH in this one person's lap.
Ask yourself what sort of emotional relief having that Grem, or Cham, or whatever would give you and do something about that instead of fixating on something that can't help you.
3. Another mantra to repeat: "There will be other nice things."
CS has a way of putting blinders on us so we think, "oh, there's only ONE of thing. This is the ONLY THING. I have to have it. This person isn't using it correctly, it needs to be MINE."
But take a deep breath. Think for a minute. Okay, yes, it sucks to see something you really like seemingly rotting away with someone. It sucks when someone elbows their way in to get more than their fair share. CS is full of greedy fucks. You and I both know that.
How many times, though, has a design made your eyes sparkle? How many nice things have you had the opportunity to buy or trade for? Presumably a lot. Even if it's only a few times a year because you're picky. There is always going to be something nice coming down the line. If you fixate on somebody else's stuff and get bitter, you'll miss it!
Another way you can talk to yourself about it is: "I want this SO BAD, and if it goes up for offer, I'll shoot my shot. For now, I'm going to watch my fave artists and groups. Something will turn up."
4. Accept that CS is incredibly biased toward popular people with money, popular people, asskissers with money, asskissers, and everyone else--in that exact order.
What this means is you have to accept that, unless you're higher up the "social ranks", there's going to be a lot that's out of reach. Hell, even popular people with money don't get everything they want--they just get way more of it so it looks like they do.
If you can't accept that--and that's 100% valid--then this isn't the community for you. It's always been like this, but it's gotten exceptionally bad over the years, meaning it's not going to get better.
I would recommend reading up on the concept of radical acceptance: hopeway org(/)blog(/)radical-acceptance. It's usually used for people with BPD, but I just have the old-fashioned depression-anxiety combo and found it to be helpful. Maybe you will, too.
Radical acceptance is too much to get into in an already-long post, so please visit that link. A lot of people think of it as giving up, as letting shitty things stay shitty, etc. But that's not what it is. It's a way of letting go so you aren't stuck and miserable.
5. What do you adore about that design? Any way you can crib elements of it so you can "own" the design yourself?
Tread carefully here, as I am not advocating for design theft. But there's nothing too unique about the vast majority of species. You can probably identify one or two favorite colors, maybe a marking you find super appealing. Round-headed dragon anthros certainly don't stand out too much, as well. You can make your own inspired design.
If you're worried that you're going to make something too close to the original, ask a trusted friend if it looks copied instead of inspired. 
Also mix things up by adding details you wouldn't otherwise be able to. For example, why not a big pair of wings? Or some cool horns? Or will-o-wisps? Give them a feral and human form. Go crazy.
But again, be honest with yourself. Inspiration is great, theft is not.
6. Stop torturing yourself about what people are and aren't doing with their property.
Look, there's this one Dainty I'm dying to own. I see her passed around like a collection plate at church, never a single piece of art added to her gallery, and it makes me die a little inside every time I see her up for offer.
You know what I do now? I don't keep track of this Dainty beyond trade adverts. If I see her go up in an advert, I offer, but I don't torment myself anymore with thoughts of how great I'd treat this inanimate object. How do I know that, anyway? Maybe someone is going on long DnD campaigns with her. Maybe one day I'll be reading an epic trilogy and read a description of a character that sounds a lot like her.
Hell, maybe one day I will get her and realize I just liked the chase. Oops.
It frustrates me, but it's not my business. So I don't do things that increase my frustration. If it gets bad enough, I'll leave Dainties entirely. Life is too short, and these are near-worthless pixels. To hell with it.
7. Can you draw fanart and not be a creep about it?
Some people can handle this, some people can't. (Full confession: I absolutely cannot because I bond like crazy with designs I can't have, yikes.) But have you considered asking the owner if you can draw their characters sometimes? If the answer is no, then you need to respect that. And if you can't engage with fanart in a healthy way, then respect yourself and don't get into the emotional shits.
Most people wouldn't mind a bit of fanart every couple of months. Not every week, not every month. You're going to look insane and pushy if you do that. Also avoid pushy or vague-begging language, like, "I'd love to have this lil guy some day." (But something like, "omg, he's so cute, I think I'll come back in a couple months to doodle him again!" is fine.)
All that said, would being able to do a little fanart make you feel less frustrated? It helps a lot of people, so consider it.
And if you're very, very, VERY lucky, if the owner ever decides to part with the Grem (or whatever), you might get first dibs. Do NOT assume you will. Do NOT ask. Think of it as a potential bonus that will go away if you ask about it--because it probably will. It's also a quick way to get blocked, and then you're really up Shit Creek.
8. Accept that not everyone has the same definition of valid use as you do.
Valid use to some people is simply staring at their collection a couple times a week. With how expensive and hard to obtain some of this shit is, I don't get it, but it's not my call, nor is it yours.
9. Tied in with the above, are you a hypocrite?
If you aren't using all your characters according to the standards you're apparently holding this one person to, you're kind of a hypocrite. Hypocrisy is gross. Ask yourself why it's ok for you to do it, but it's suddenly bad when someone else does it.
Strive not to be a hypocrite. Say to yourself, "yeah, I don't always use everything I've got as much as I'd like, either. This sucks. I'm going to stop visiting this person's page."
10. Try blocking the person
Or mute them, if that's an option. You need a detox, anon. If you even need to leave the group for a week or two, do it.
Sometimes we get fixated on something or another for a multitude of reasons, and the only way to break free is to leave it for awhile. If this becomes a pattern, CS isn't a healthy community for you and you need to look for alternatives.
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sparklingyandere · 2 years
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For Better or Worse (part 1)
Summary: yandere Scaramouche/reader. You have a tumultuous political marriage with the 6th harbinger.
word count: 2457
warnings: forced marriage, threats, yan behavior, fem reader
a/n: hii first fic! be patient with me <3
You place a fresh carrot from the ground into your woven basket. Dirt covered hands pull more vegetables from the soil in your family's garden. You were doing your days' work for your little village, harvesting the crops. Once you've picked all the matured crops in the field, you brush the dirt from your hands and carry your basket of produce into your home.
You place the veggies on the table and call out for your mother. She enters the room and greets you warmly, hugging you tight. She grabs the basket and walks with it over to the washbasin and begins cleaning the produce.
Today's harvest will be distributed fairly amongst your neighbors for dinner. It was you and your mother's job to tend and maintain the community garden.
Your father returns from gathering wood with some of your neighbors. He usually shares the gossip he hears from the town when he gets home, and today was no different.
"They're saying a noble is passing through the town today. Apparently he's looking for a wife," he tells you.
"A wife? Why would he be looking for one here?" Your mother responds
You have a feeling you know why. He probably thinks that he's "saving" whatever woman he chooses from a life of destitution, because to people like him, a life without money to burn can't be a fulfilling one. He probably thinks the woman he picks will be so grateful that she'd blindly wait on him hand and foot. It disgusted you. You had seen it happen before, former residents of the village on home visits recounting their stories to you.
Your mother and father begin gossiping and you take your cue to go back outside to your garden.
Back outside, the sky is blue and the air is still and warm. The sun is in the middle of the sky. You walk over to your garden and get on your knees. All the matured crops have been harvested, but that didn't mean there wasn't work left to be done. You start by weeding.
By the time you are done, the wind has begun to blow and the sun is descending towards the orange horizon. You stand up. In the distance, you see a horse-drawn carriage approaching along the dirt road to the village. The noble was coming.
You quickly go inside, where your mother is setting the table for dinner. "Just in time," she smiles at you kindly.
"The nobleman is here, Mother," you say.
Both of your parents perk up noticeably. Your father gets up from his seat at the table, "We must go outside and welcome him."
He walks outside and you and your mother follow. The carriage has arrived at the edge of the village and a few soldiers in unfamiliar uniforms emerge before a short man in a very elaborate getup steps out. His hat is huge and decorative, with tassels and a detailed fabric backdrop. These kinds of convoluted outfits were not uncommon among the rich, almost like they had nothing better to spend their hoards of wealth on.
Many of your neighbors have stepped out onto their lawns as well, some with their sons and daughters. Your village elder approaches the front of the carriage and speaks to the man.
"Lord Scaramouche, welcome to the village. Please make yourself at home for as long as you like," he says, bowing politely.
"No need. I will be gone before sunrise." He spares no greeting to the head of your hometown, and you feel irritation settle on your nerves. How could a man of such high standing be so callous? Would it have been so hard to just say hello?
"Ah.. Very well," the elder says, "Come find me if you need anything."
Scaramouche nods curtly to the elder. His eyes scan the villagers that have gathered outside their doors to see him. He surveys each of your neighbors before his eyes fall on you. Averting your eyes to a man of his status would be the polite thing to do, but you know that this man is anything but polite, and you maintain eye contact. It's now that you notice that he appears to be in his mid twenties. Your age, if not a little older. His gaze narrows at you and he looks back to the crowd.
You are satisfied with the rude impression you suspect you've made on him and retreat into your home. Your parents stay back as the lord begins to announce his intentions.
You care not for his intentions. You know he's here to collar some fine young woman to raise his own social standing and eventually procure an heir. You were not interested. Inside, you continue where your mother left off preparing dinner. Stew is on the woodstove, fully cooked and smelling delicious. You pour three bowls full of stew in the usual spots on the dining table and spend a few minutes setting the table. When you're done you sit down at the table and wait for your parents to enter. Promptly, they do.
Your mother walks in first, holding the door open for your father and the lord of the hour. Your face betrays your courtesy and you are unable to hide your shock and frustration.
"My dear, Lord Scaramouche will be joining us for dinner," your mother says to you. She turns to Scaramouche. "Would you like us to prepare you a bowl?"
He grimaces at the suggestion. "That won't be necessary." He says.
Everyone sits at the table, and you begin eating. Your parents refrain in favor of polite conversation with the guest of honor.
"So, what brings your search to our humble village?" Your father asks.
"Hmm. Modest women are... Harder to come by these days in the city," He says, "Girls are constantly vying for my favor, sure, I could have my pick of them. But they only do it to be entitled to my money." He waves his hand dismissively. This display of pretentiousness makes you sick. You glare at him, and it does not go unnoticed. "Your daughter is a very fine young woman, I'm sure you know," he says. You scoff.
"(Name)! Be polite." scolds your mother.
Scaramouche laughs. It's an unnatural sound. "It's quite all right. I can handle a little feistiness," he mocks. He is insufferable.
"And how is the city? We can never seem to find time to visit," Your mother attempts to break the tension.
"It isn't anything special. You aren't missing too much in this... modest... village." He says. The compliment is backhanded, but your parents don't seem to mind.
"So, um, my lord. About the union." your father says. You perk up in alarm.
"What? Union? What are you talking about?"
Your parents share an uncomfortable gaze before they turn back to you.
"Ah, very well," Scaramouche says. He faces you. "Your parents have accepted my proposal for your hand in marriage. Upon your agreement, your parents will receive a sum of money and we will be heading to my estate."
The announcement hits you like a brick. You gape at him in horror and turn to your parents. You make no effort to mask your disgust. "Not happening. I can't believe you would agree to marry me off to... to some stranger," you frown at your parents and stand abruptly, not caring when the chair hits the ground.
"(Name)! What has gotten into you?" Your mother shouts. "Sit back down!"
You don't listen. You walk out the door and slam it behind you as you hear your parents apologize profusely to their guest.
Some of the neighbors are still outside, talking amongst themselves. They stop to stare at you when you step outside. You ignore them and begin walking away from the village.
You find yourself a short way off the beaten path, sitting on some rocks by the small river that passes through your village. The sun is setting beautifully, but you aren't in a mood to appreciate the scenery.
You kick a pebble into the stream. What were your parents thinking? They didn't even think to consult you first. Could they not see how insufferable he was? Entitled, stuck up, and just so rude. It just wasn't fair.
A pair of footsteps approach you from behind. It could be Scaramouche, or it could be one of your parents. You don't bother turning around to find out.
"How much?" you ask.
"What?" Responds Scaramouche.
"How much money?" you repeat.
He is silent for a moment, before he tells you a sum of money beyond your wildest imagination. It had to be more than your parents could spend in a lifetime. It was no wonder they were tempted by so much money, but it still hurt. You sit in silence. The noble allows you to do so for a minute and you begin to grow irritated by his presence.
Just as you're about to turn around and tell him to fuck off, he speaks.
"A lot of money, isn't it?" He says. You shift uncomfortably. "Think of the comfort your parents could live in with all that money. They'd be set for life. Your whole village would be."
This was true, but you were doing perfectly fine as you were. You didn't need money. Your village was self-sufficient.
"Think about how disappointed they would be if they missed out on it," He continues.
Maybe they would be disappointed, sure. It was a lot of money. But it wouldn't really change anything, would it? They loved you more than any amount of money.
"Your parents might forgive you, but would the rest of the village? Your neighbors? The elder? It would never be the same."
He was right. You finally turn to face him. "What are you getting at?" you ask him.
"I'm saying you should think about my proposal. You'd have a good life. Your family would benefit." He says. You scoff in disgust.
"Are you slow? I wouldn't marry a noble for all the money in the world. You're selfish, the whole lot of you," you say.
He looks at you incredulously. "Wha... Fine. I tried being nice. If you aren't at my carriage by sunrise when I leave, I will burn this village to the ground. No one will miss it." He turns and leaves you in the dust, not sparing you time for a response.
You watch his figure walk back towards the village. You think about what he said with frustration.
There was no way he was serious. Destroying a village? Surely there would be consequences. He would lose all of his social standing over such a treasonous crime. But... would he have said it if it wasn't true? You didn't get out of the village much, but you knew nobles got away with some sick things. But leveling whole villages?
You return home. Your mother is still seated at the table, dinner has been cleaned up, and your father is in the sitting room nearby. Your mother looks up to you, her expression a mixture of frustration and relief. Your father doesn't look up from the book in his hands.
"There you are. Did the noble talk to you?" Your mother says, "We were so worried."
"You humiliated us in front of our guest," Your father says.
"Yes, Mother... Sorry, Father... Um, that noble.. Who is he?" You ask.
"Hmm, we spoke to him a bit about his occupation. He said he was a high-ranking officer of the Fatui. It seems he's in search of a wife to look after his estate while he is away on business."
Fatui. Of course. His social power wouldn't be challenged by destroying your village, because it didn't come from Inazuma. It came from Snezhnaya.
You decide not to tell them about his threat for now. It would only upset them further, and you just needed some time to yourself.
"I'm sorry, Mother... I just.. I need a moment to think," You walk off to your room. You know they want to talk about what happened... You know they're disappointed in you for your outburst, and they don't understand your unwillingness to marry a rich man and live a comfortable life, a life that they never had. But you just don't feel like it right now.
In your room, you think about your options. The most favorable option would be to call his bluff and just enjoy the rest of your life. But you know better. Then, you could tell your parents the situation and flee the village and start anew. But you can't just leave the other villagers behind, they were your extended family. It just wasn't right. And there was no way you could gather them all without rousing attention from Scaramouche. That leaves just one option, doesn't it?
Your mother said he was looking for someone to manage his estate while he was away. That meant he wouldn't be home often, right? So you wouldn't have to suffer through his unsavory presence very often. And your parents would be set for life off the funds... They wouldn't need you at home to do heavy work or help them into retirement.
Justifying marrying him to yourself felt traitorous, but you just didn't have a choice. You gather your stuff into a modest pack and return to the main room of your house.
"Mother, I'm sorry for my behavior at the dinner. I've thought about it, and... I'm going to marry the noble," You say, though it breaks your heart to give in. Your mother stands up and hugs you.
Both of your parents express how proud they are of you. You share a meaningful goodbye. You promise to visit.
Outside, you approach the carriage at the edge of the village and knock on the carriage door. The sun has long set, and the sky is a lonely dark blue. The clouds cover up the stars.
Scaramouche opens the door. His face is irritated at first, but his expression relaxes to smugness upon seeing that you're the one who knocked.
"I see you've come to your senses." He steps aside, making space for you to enter his carriage. Reluctantly, you do.
You sit down in the spacious carriage in the seat across from him, between two Fatui bodyguards. Scaramouche orders the coachman to take you to the nearest courthouse.
The ride is almost perfectly silent. Scaramouche's gaze shifts occasionally between you and the window, and you stare at your feet. Neither of you say anything for a long time.
After a while, you ask the burning question on your mind.
"Why me?"
Scaramouche is silent as he thinks about his answer.
"Because I like a challenge."
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shtern-and-art · 3 years
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"Skeppy will probably cry" "Bad will probably cry". Bish, screw, that I am crying!!!
This whole thing was bloody gorgeous and I wasn't expecting that ending. I had no clue what ending to expect but that was definitely better than any I could have hoped for. Forest spirit to soulmate your honour!
I was terrified that you were gonna leave it at the point where he loses the spirit and becomes mortal again. If you had I would be actively sobbing!!!! And oh my god, the art!!! I still can't get over how wonderful your style is.
Imma ask fun things because if I don't I'll sit in a puddle of emotion all night:
What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it? Poor Skeppy trying to answer 101 questions about something he doesn't really use XD.
Is no one concerned that the odd couple from a town they never name has a pet wolf??
Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while. Find hidden creeks and befriend bears?
Does Bad still have a connection to nature and animals, like are creatures naturally more trusting of him?
Do they ever visit the og town again?
Does Skeppy still cause absolute chaos in other towns or has he learnt his lesson and only causes minor trouble now?
Does Bad ever try and study again? If he did what would he study and would Skeppy try to study as well?
Does Skeppy steal? I dunno, he just give off the vibe of a naughty lil trickster who'll pocket something if the owner refuses to sell it him.
Immediately after leaving the forest what the first 'argument' they have (not including the car one)?
Would they ever ride horse? If yes, how terrified would Skeppy be?
Skeppy falls outta tree. I don't know why but my mind keeps telling me that this man has great balance until he climbs trees. They are his mortal enemy and Bad finds this both hilarious and terrifying because he is going to hurt himself.
I had waaaaay more questions than I intended to have. My bad '^_^ but this story was way too much fun to read and you are entirely to blame for making it so engaging!
Make sure to take care of yourself and do stretches after and during drawing. You don't wanna hurt yourself <3
AaaaI’m so glad you liked it! :D And, dang, man, I cried while writing that part too :D
And I promised a nice ending for the main story, I did, and this one also makes the most sense narratively! For the story I wanted to tell, at least. Bad can’t really become human again, he’s changed to much. He can only move on, and do something with what he is, and has. And he did! :D That’s really nice and inspiring, this story will always have a place in my heart, heheh <3
Being a guardian spirit connected to a person and all, Bad may be not as strong as before, but he can’t die unless Skeppy dies first. And Skeppy can do that, but he’s pretty sturdy, and his lifespan operates on a whole other scale than human ones. And Bad knowing Skeppy’s real name balances it all out, makes them equal in the power and influence they have over each other.
So hellyeah, soulmates for the win :DDD
I’ll answer all questions under the cut, and this close up from one of the pages!
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1) What's the first tech thing Bad will buy and how annoying will he be about it?
Probably a pager! Because it’s a more feasible thing to get than a wholeass computer Bad actually wanted :D An it means Skeppy will have to get one too, and that Bad will be having the time of his life texting him and everyone he can get a number from, even if they’re still in the room with him.
Poor Skeppy indeed, he can learn to appreciate the pagers, and later phones, too, and computers, but he really has 0 idea on how it all works and why Bad is so fascinated by it all.
2) Rat and regular people
Oh, she can shapeshift, just like Bad! If they’re out with people around, she takes form of a puppy, and Bad can pass her off as a weird mix breed rescue doggo.
3) Do they immediately go over to a different town or do they wander for a while?
Oh, since they have no end destination in mind, they can ride around for a bit, go visit some cool places and roadside attractions. Sadly, Skeppy is probably not spiritually or morally ready to full on befriend wild bears yet, and they do need money for gas and snacks. So, at some point they will have to stop somewhere and find work – at least for a bit, to save up. Life’s gonna be a bit complicated with all that, until Skeppy figures out his treasure-finding abilities :DD
4) Bad and nature and animals
He is definitely still in tune with all wildlife! Even more – Bad could become a proper guardian spirit for Skeppy in part because, in a way, Skeppy himself is part of the nature.
So yeah, Bad can understand animals (and plants) and communicate with them; they’re just more free to not take his shit, and Bad’s emotions do not “possess” them unless he makes an effort to do so.
He doesn’t like doing it, tho.
5) Do they ever visit the og town again?
Hm, I think they will completely forget about it for a while, until, like, 30+ years later they will be going somewhere, and find themselves around those parts. And they try to not appear too often in the areas they’ve spent a lot of time in already (they can be pretty recognizable, and also barely show signs of aging). But it’s been a long time, and the town’s really different now… So they make a stop, and spend a day there. They walk the unfamiliar streets between the new buildings, check out the popular hiking trail, the advertisements for hot springs and winter activities. The old cinema is still there, and is hosting an all-night marathon of classic horror movies of the last century.
Bad and Skeppy leave the town after sunset – the day was nice, but they have nothing more to do there. They ride through the forest on a well paved road, with radio playing something barely above the whisper. And in the dark of hot summer night, Bad can see the white stag running between the trees alongside their car. Shadows dance over the shimmering light of it’s fur.
Somewhere after the towns border, the stag disappears back in the forest. But the air in the car stays light and fresh, saving the smell of old pines and dry leaves all though the night.
6) Skeppy and chaos
Well, after the whole mess in the main story, Skeppy definitely learned some lessons, especially about not being a dick :D
But the thing is – he can’t really help the fact that things tend to stir up around him a lot. He naturally brings in chaos into everything, because he is, in part, a personification, or an outlet for it in the world. And so, to feel, well and good, and himself Skeppy gotta do stuff that disrupts balance, and creates some mayhem. And in gave him a lot of trouble in early life, but in the course of the main story he learned that he can chose were he lets that chaos to take hold, learned what can come of that chaos, apart from utter misery.
Like, where it can help dismantle something destructive, and where – bring in the more positive change, that was already brewing, possible, but is stagnant for some reason.
Soooo, I can’t say Skeppy causes only minor chaos in his life, but he sure learns even more about not being a dick :DDDD
7) The studying
I think Bad will want to get a higher education at some point, because he wanted to, and because it’s already new millennia and all that. Bet he’ll go for something very technical and/or literature. Maybe he’ll start by piking up some classes in small time colleges, when they stop in one place for a while, and later get into an online program, because why not.
Skeppy is not a college guy at all. He’ll listen to Bad talk about it, read textbooks if he wants to, can research stuff, buuut going to classes and doing homework is definitely not his thing.
8) Stealing
Well, you’re right, Skeppy can and will steal stuff out of spite! And will be scolded by Bad for it, and will not feel (that) sorry about it. But real stealer between them will be Bad himself :D
It’s just… he has the corvid tendencies, and a hoard (a box) of sentimental mementos from different people and events, and the thrill of stealing something small and harmless is very exciting. Bad is very proud of his little collection. Skeppy finds it very adorable, a bit hypocritical, and kinda creepy. Like, that pretty box he gifted Bad at some point is now full of stuff like:
- pressed flower from the clearing they had a picnic at on their anniversary
- the button the waitress lost that one day the storm caused a black out in the whole town
- some small animal bones
- couple pretty rocks Bad stole from Skeppy’s pockets
- penny that was once glued to the ground
- a handful of teeth people (and not people) lost in fights with Bad
- pen from some fancy hotel
- rainbow dash keychain that belonged to a child
- the list goes on
9) Argument
Oh, that same day they’ll fight over whether they should stay at the really crappy and suspicious looking motel, or go sleep in a perfectly fine forest near the road. Ironically, Bad wanted to try out the motel (because, yay, first time spending the night back in civilization), and Skeppy was the one insisting on sleeping in nature (because the motel looks like it could give you 10 diseases if you even stand near it, and sleeping in the forest is kind of nice, and means they can cuddle).
10) Horses
The guys will probably ride them at some point. Well, Bad will ride, and Skeppy will sit on his horse and hope it knows what to do and where to go, because trying to make this giant thing do something seems dangerous. If they’ll have to actually go somewhere fast, Skeppy will not survive that day, his butt (and legs) will be dead for days to come.
And riding with Bad on one horse may sound romantic and nice, but all romance dies when the gallop starts.
F.
11) Skeppy and climbing
Skeppy is more down to earth kind of guy, more of a “rocks and caves” kind of creature, real-life lizard person or something. Up on the trees and in the air – not really his element, yeah. But it doesn’t mean that Skeppy will accept this fact easy. The embarrassment of never managing to safely make it down a tree is too strong, he just has to do it all over again, and again. And again. Because, clearly, he was distracted this time. And the time before that Bad was teasing him, and it “disrupted his flow”. And, really, maybe these trees here just do not like Skeppy much, and make him slip a lot. Yeah.
So, more often than not, if Skeppy climbs a tree, he will not stop climbing it until he falls, or the tree ends. Bad had to take him off high branches couple times, forcefully, because, of course, Skeppy was sitting there for 2 hours just to properly enjoy the sunset. He can climb down at any point, he just Choses not to. The view is amazing. The bark is literally part of his skin now, not because he holds on tight, no, he’s just Than Much one with the nature )<
---
Don’t apologize for the questions! It’s always so fun to answer them, and it makes me think more about stuff I may have skipped, or didn’t think about before. It’s really nice :3c
Again, thank you for the ask, and for being here for this story! <3
(And I’ll try setting timers for rest breaks while I draw, mb that will help)
---
In The Dark - masterpost
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eideticmemory · 3 years
Text
TWO GHOSTS II | MATTHEW G. GUBLER
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It’s been 15 years. 15 years has to be long enough . . . right? Part 2! Read Part 1.
Set 15 years after the end of Ever Since New York, so give that a read first!
Word Count: 3.1k.
Warning: Usual angst, porn, and poor communication amongst characters.
SOUNDTRACK:
After Hours - The Velvet Underground
Mr. Loverman - Ricky Montgomery
Heaven Knows I’m Miserable Now - The Smiths
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“Ramona . . .” you whine.
“I know . . . a mess.”
“I, uh,” you set your phone down, keeping Ramona’s voice on speaker. “I have to get out of this hotel, I have to get home.”
“[y/n], no.”
“No?”
“No.”
You begin changing out of your pajamas, your hands trembling as you slip on a pair of jeans. “Are you telling me I can’t go home right now? Seriously?”
“Seriously. Unless you wanna get swarmed by paparazzi, and risk leaving the hotel at the same time as him, you need to stay put.”
“This . . . this . . . is a mess. This is a huge mess, I — Ramona, I’m leaving.” You ramble, grabbing your things from the bedside dresser.
“[y/n] [y/l/n].” Ramona says, sternly. “You are my boss, but I have direct orders from your publicist to make sure you stay put. So, sit down, chill out, I’ll be there in five. And, honestly . . . you should have some wine.”
“Wha — wine? It’s seven in the morning.”
“Y’know what? You deserve it. Be there soon.”
She was already on the way when she hung up, and when she knocks on the door, you’re sat criss-cross on the bed, sipping a glass of wine. She’s right, you deserve it. You hold the fragile cup in your hand as you open the door, and she waltzes her way in.
“You calm now?” she asks.
“Medicated,” you shrug, holding the glass of wine up in the air.
“Perfect . . . so, were you ever going to tell anyone that you used to date Matthew Gray Gubler?”
You scoff, wander through the hotel room, “I didn’t date Matthew Gubler,” you take a seat on the bed.
“Okay, were you going to mention that you used to fuck Matthew Gray Gubler?” She crosses her arms.
“I . . .” you stutter, go silent in response.
“Oh, God,” she groans.
“It was a long, long time ago! It’s no one’s business, and there’s hardly any proof that it’s anything but a rumor.”
“No proof? —“ She shakes her head, pulling her iPad from her bag. As she clicks a few buttons, she adds, “Did you not see what people were saying? . . . The pictures?”
“Pictures?” You gasp, setting you glass down. “What pictures?”
Ramona sighs, and hands the iPad over to you, avoiding eye contact. You slowly take the device from her hands, and let out a shaky breath.
“The first two were posted a, um, John Hearse on twitter . . .” she explains.
“I mean, if you and Gube just . . . I’m gonna say it - fucked - one good time, the two of you could get over this whole rivalry already.”
Ramona’s words start to fade, to rescind to dust and ash, as you absorb the image in front of you. It’s old . . . and slightly blurry, but you recognize every face. John, Steve, Matthew . . . and you, sat in his lap, head on his shoulder with a huge, bright smile on your face. Matthew had his hand on your waist, practically gripping your shirt in his hand, keeping you close. The next picture, he was making you laugh, all three of you, as you looked, lovingly, into his eyes.
They were posted in response to a final picture, of you and Matthew reuniting. You looking, literally, like an idiot, in the daze of seeing him and recieving a hug. Some professional photographer had captured the whole thing.
John’s pictures are captioned: Whoaaa glad to see these two back together!
“They used to be, heh,” you chuckle dryly to yourself as you read the tweet outloud. “Inseparable, wow. Remind me to call John up later and yell at him until he cries.”
“Wh — what happened between you two?”
“Me and John? Nothing much, we were good friends,” you shrug.
“No — [y/n], c’mon . . .” Ramona groans.
“It would take,” you sigh. “So much time, and so much energy for me to tell that story right now. I don’t have it in me, Ramona, I just . . . I just want to go home.”
“The place is surrounded by paparazzi, they’re harassing every celebrity that leaves the building, and I’m pretty sure your high on their watchlist right now.”
“Yeah, I’ve mastered the art of ignoring them, I’ll be fine, just call me a ride, please,” you grumble, setting the iPad down and rising to your feet.
She sighs, giving in, giving up, “There’s one waiting for you out front.”
“Thank you,” you nod.
Your belongings are removed from the room first, carried down by an accommodating bellhop. Ramona followed you down to the lobby, trailing you, like she always did. But keeping a closer eye on you than usual. You stopped in front of the revolving door, lips pursed in a look of annoyance as you came face to face with the hoard of paparazzi.
They noticed you through the glass before you had the chance to take a breath, and if you stood still for too long, you feared it would show as weakness, a reason to be suspicious. So, you held your head up tall, took in a deep breath, and stepped into the spotlight.
You’ve mastered the look of constantly-tired-business-woman-chic. Today, you’re running off a cup of coffee, and as always, throw on jeans and a graphic t-shirt. Comfortable shoes, because those heels destroyed your feet last night.
It’s a short walk to the car, but a million and one pictures are taken of you. You smile, respectfully, do a little wave. Don’t want to look too bitter. You drown out the questions, drown out the comments, because you swear if you hear his name, you’ll roll your eyes.
Ramona gets into the car after you, and closes the door. You let out a long sigh, and sulk in your seat. “This sucks,” you mumble, the car staring the ten minute drive to your home.
“Okay, [y/n] Gubler,” she replies.
“Hey!” You sit up. “Why would you say that?”
“Because I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” she whines. “I knew something was off last night. I could’ve helped you avoid him, I could’ve gotten his car towed, I could’ve sent him the wrong address. You just have to communicate.”
“That is . . . unprofessional, and Matthew Gubler is, apparently, very professional. And he . . .” you trail off.
“He . . ? What?”
“He, donated a very healthy amount of money to the program, which, has nothing to do with me, by the way. None of it has anything to do with me, he’s just . . . professional.” You roll your eyes.
“What the hell happened between you two?” Ramona asks, noticing your shift in tone.
“Ooh, damn!” You ignore her, looking out the window. “We should’ve stopped and grabbed donuts.”
“Fine,” she surrenders.
You were surprised to find no paparazzi surrounding your penthouse building. Ramona had packed away all your belongings, and sent someone inside to place them in your apartment.
“Stay off social media,” she tells you before you leave. “Okay? No posting.”
“Silent stalking, only. Got it.”
You hold your phone in your hand as you walk into the building, ride the elevator up to the fifth floor. It’s quiet, and it’s what you need right now. To be home alone, with your thoughts.
You crash onto the couch, face first, and groan as you roll over. Last night should’ve been joyous, and fun, and it was. But, it was supposed to be the end. It was supposed to bring peace, knowing that everything you worked for, payed off and went out with a bang.
But, because of him, and John, and these stupid pictures, it’s far from the end. A whole new storm has started, and it’s making you nauseous.
Yet, you can’t keep yourself offline. You spend hours scrolling through tweet upon tweet, instagram post after instagram post, and each and every comment is as gut wrenching as the last. The internet’s made up it’s mind, and you and Matthew Gubler are the perfect couple. You fit together, you look right together, you have history together.
A history that was better left buried.
Because, when it comes up, when you think about, and you think about that one decision that could’ve changed everything . . . you crack. You spiral. You can’t shake it for days. Weeks. You think about him, and what you could’ve been.
It’s a hurricane, and it sweeps you up everytime, even when you know it’s coming.
There’s a knock at the door, and your heart drops. It’s naive, and childish to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s him. Coming to apologize for being a dick. But the idea of it has you racing to the door, and flinging it open before you can think about it.
“Hey, Aunt [y/n]!”
“Hey,” Claire smiles. “We brought donuts.”
This is better.
The seven year old held onto your hand as you guided her and her mother in your apartment. “Oh, my goodness,” you beamed to Dorthy, earning a bright smile from her. “Is Roni with you?” You turned to ask Claire.
“She had to help her mother with something today, but I told her that I had to help you through a serious crisis.”
“Ah,” you nod. “You’ve been online, huh?”
You take a seat with Dorothea on the couch, turn on the TV. “Wanna pick something to watch?” You smile, and she nods happily, taking the remote from you.
You join Claire in the kitchen, and she hands you a cookies and cream donut. You hum happily as you take it from her, take a seat on the counter, “God, thank you.”
She nods, “Yes, I’ve been online. I’ve been tracking everything about you and your big, big night,” she chuckles. “So I was ready to run over here when I saw those pictures going around.”
“You saw them?” You gasp, horrified, with the donut hanging from your mouth.
“Oh, yeah, I don’t remember when they were taken, though?”
“Vegas, 2001,” you tell her. “You didn’t — you didn’t come with us.”
She sighs, tilts her head at you, “[y/n] . . .”
“No, no, it’s okay,” you nod, reassuringly. “I’m not going down a Matthew rabbit hole. Not right now. Y’know why? Because he is an ass, he’s rude, and disrespectful, and stirs shit up for no reason, and —“
“Whoa!” Claire exclaims. “Did I enter a time portal to 1999 or something?”
“Oh, fuck off,” you roll your eyes.
“[y/n], you knew seeing Matthew was a possibility last night, and that it would bring back all these emotions, and you swore you could handle it —“
“I did handle it! I handled it very, very well. He’s the one who lost his cool. You should’ve heard him, Claire,” you ramble. “Nothing I did tonight has anything to do with you? I’m a professional? I didn’t do it to cushion your feelings? He’s a dick! He — he threw everything in my face the minute he could, and now my name is connected to his, our history is out there for everyone to see, and . . . he probably fucking hates me,” you laugh.
You laugh.
It’s a dry laugh, a sad laugh.
Claire frowns, and steps over to you, putting her arm around your shoulders.
“He hates me,” you say. “And he probably has every reason to. But I can handle it. I can handle the emotions, I’ve handled them for a long time,” you look at her. “And it’s not my fault if he can’t do the same, right?”
Claire sighs, pushes your hair back, “No.” She shakes her head. “No, you’ve moved on. You should want him to do the same thing, and not cause anymore hurt. You deserve that.”
“Mom! Aunt [y/n]!” Dorthy calls from the couch. Her head pops up, and she grins at you two. “Best and Ballet is on!”
“Ooh, what show is that?” You chuckle, hopping down from the counter. “I’ve never heard of it before.”
“Hey,” Claire calls, grabbing onto your arm before you can walk into the living room. “It’s like everything else in show business, right? People will talk for a few days, maybe a week, right? And then it’ll fade. It’ll pass.”
You give her a nod, let her know that you hear her, and that you’re going to push through this. Because you have no choice. Because above being a celebrity, a figurehead, a boss, a producer . . . you’re a teacher. A damn good one, and the last person who’s going to change that is Matthew Gubler.
You pack him away. The idea of him. Tie him off with a neat, little bow.
Because the show must go on.
“Rolling!”
You walk across the studio, behind the cameras, watching your students on screen. “Can you get a wide shot? You’re not getting the best lighting, nor every student in one shot.” You say to the cinematographer.
“[y/n],” the director calls. “We film from this angle every episode. Why change it?”
“Because every episode, some of my best dancers are cut from the shot beside of sloppy angles and the light from the windows blinds the mirrors the cameras?”
“Those are things out of our control.”
“Oh, yeah?” you turn to him. “You wanna tell that to someone who didn’t go to film school? . . . Twice?”
He gulps, motions to the cinematographer, “Change the shot.”
You grin, order the camera woman to make the correct adjustments, “See?” You beam. “No glare.”
You walk off, Ramona trailing behind you, giving the director a pitiful smile. Once you’re away from the cameras, and the studio, you grumble, “Remind me to never be talked into hiring a male director again.
“You’re turning into Medusa.”
“What?” You look at her, furrowing your eyebrows.
“What? You’ve never seen Grey’s Anatomy? Medusa? Turns people into stone? A . . . bitch?”
“Actual Medusa was not a bitch, she was cursed by a man.”
“Okay, fair, you were cursed by a man —“
“Dooooon’t!” You roll your eyes. “I’m not Medusa, I’m very nice.”
“You’re nice to me, and to your students, and the nice ladies that do your hair and makeup. Everyone else, stone.”
“Stop.”
“I wish you would tell me what happened,” she groans. “It’s not like I’m gonna tell anyone! I’m just, worried about you, and a little nosey.”
“Ramona . . . it’s been how long since that weekend?”
“Well, well,” she stutters. “Only a week.”
“A week is a long time, I’ve moved on. I’ve avoided any and all questions on the subject, from everyone. I’ve been actively dodging it on social media. I’m doing well.”
She nods.
“Now,” you continue to walk down the hall. “I have a talk show interview tonight? What time do I have to be there?”
You stop when you realize Ramona isn’t following you. You turn around, and she stuck in her spot.
“What are you doing?” You ask.
“Can’t move. Been turned to stone.”
You hated the Medusa comparison wholeheartedly. But, right now, you just want to yell at whoever booked you for a late night talk show. You’re tired after a long day of work, and you’re cranky, and crabby, and maybe, just maybe . . . the comparison isn’t too far off right now.
You’re charming, sure. Let’s go with that. But now, it’s all starting to dawn on you. Here, in this dressing room that’s lit up like a christmas tree. Revealing every ounce of exhaustion in your face, in your eyes. It’s nearly ten o’clock at night, and you’re placed in an elegant, black dress that stops just above your knees. Black heels cover your feet, and your hair and makeup were done half an hour ago.
You have to figure it out. You test different ones out in the mirror. Different smiles. You have to nail the I-have-to-talk-about-myself-for-an-hour-and-laugh smile. The happy, glowing, kind smile. You think you have it when there’s a knock on the door.
You keep the smile on, don’t want to lose it. You call Ramona in, and she looks at you, curiously. “You okay?”
“Yep,” you nod, brightening your smile. “Show time?”
“Are — are you having a stroke?”
“Okay, I’m trying to put on my interview face here, you’re not helping.”
“Sorry, sorry, you look great!” You smiles.
“Ramona,” you whisper, stepping close to her. “There’s a good chance they’re gonna ask me about him, right?”
She takes a breath in, prepared to answer, but no words come out. Your eyes are wide, innocent, hopeful. And she hates to lie to you.
“Yes . . .” is all she can say. “There is a, very, very good chance they will ask you about him.”
You sigh, duck your head. And when you pick it back up, your smile is on. “Okay, let’s go.” You step out into the hallway, Ramona closing the door behind you.
It was a time portal. The door. The hallway.
Matthew’s eyes land on you at the same time you see him, and you both freeze. Ramona bites at her nails, anxiously eyeing the two of you.
You feel your body, your soul, revert. Regress in every way to embody the spirit of you, at age 18, about 18 years ago.
You scoff, meaning your next words with every fiber of your being, “Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
TAGLIST:
@muffin-cup
@pinkdiamond1016
@ncsls0515
@spencersbed
@safertokiss
@calm-and-doctor
@spencerreid-mgg
@reidsconverse
@sizzlingclamturtlesludge
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hey, i was going through ur blog and i read the stuff u wrote about harry, ur opinions on the type of person he is and how larries and his solo fandom fail to see his "true colours" and all of that, and though i agree with most of it, some of it feels very stretched out to an extent.
like i used to be a larrie until recently, this holivia stuff kept bugging me a lot, i was new to the fandom and therefore easily influenced by the old hand larries who drag anyone with the slightest speck of suspicion regarding harry and louis' public narrative into their own fandom, bombard them with a hoard of larry videos from the old days of the band and so you can't even form an opinion for yourself by gradually going through all the content of an entire decade and instead end up nodding your head to whatever story the shippers feed you.
but holivia gave me a bad feeling, why was harry agreeing to this, larry blogs gaslight you, it's for the betterment of harry's career ffs, be supportive, don't you want him to flourish in the music industry and make a name for himself (though he already has a very acquisitive team as his backbone and will have ample of money falling at his feet nonetheless)either unstan(you're the scum of the earth if you do that btw) or continue to blindly support that rich white man like we do (the preferable choice)
but harry and olivia on the yacht made me think that they were talking things too far, this stunt would leave a permanent scar for sure and can prove to be a major setback for harry and louis in the future, for harry in the industry in general as a queer man starring in a movie with the entire main cast apart from him being publicly a part of the lgbtq community and he sticks out like a sore thumb there, and also why are they being so impulsive with the grandiosity of the displays of affection between h and o? isn't h being a little too materialistic and choosing to make l witness him with olivia all the time(it's his obligation, poor h) hanging out with jeff like he's always done, just gave me bad vibes overall, doesn't feel like the h we know at all(he's not that 16 year old you all know, ofcourse he's allowed to be ambitious and money hungry now, he's a grown 27 year old man with dick and balls) and why all of this? just to promote his movie that was rumoured to not be so great in itself?
so i scoured through some blogs discussing this particular aspect of h and L's relationship, maybe someone would understand me, found rad louie blogs and long story short, now im here.
but there's one feature of rad louie blogs that's just...not it. like y'all have probably heard this before, but i do agree that harry is pretty focused towards achieving wordly prosperity rather than a life of true harmony and settling down with someone he's fond of, had been, for over 10 years now. he just doesn't seem like the type of person who would stick by a person for so many years if they weren't someone he could either use and discard, or use and keep if they were shiny enough to keep for longer, use for being seen beside for a couple days so he's in the news or use to lend more weight to his carefully star studded image. so yes, he used his charming, polite, "kind" narrative to step over people, he surrounds himself with like minded individuals who can help him thrive in the industry without much talent, and though i do think he's talented, but he does get a lot of opportunities served in a platter to him and this is made possible for him as his management neutralizes competition from other artists of the time.
but what i don't agree with is the hyperbolic description of his so called plans since he was 19, i don't think his aim is to sabotage louis or anyone in particular, i agree that he has a sort of double image(he had one within the band too, he wasn't as friendly with his bandmates as he pretended to be in interviews and he didn't even fake it for the band, he did it for himself so he didn't make many enemies and there wasn't too much negative press against him and news of conflict started by him in the biggest boyband at the time, as he said that he didn't want to be the man who broke up the band ,zayn did and he got backlash for that but he was brave and got out of that shitty modest management which h couldn't do, or didn't want to, he had the azoffs behind him telling him to let zayn take the load of the band ending and he'd get away with it all) and he isn't what he seems like on the surface, which is easy for him as he keeps to himself, or atleast pretends to do so to ensure that people don't really get the chance to overanalyse his true self while his management does a great job at keeping his name floating everywhere even without him actually appearing to interact with his fans in person, all by good promotion tactics and using thier connections to spread good word of mouth about the person he is, drawing more fans in and thus increasing his exposure and making him succesfull in the process
and not to mention, the the mythical celebrity above everyone image is there too, but all these things sum up to him being greedy, but none of them are related to louis in particular. i agree that he did minimize the amount of challenges he was going to face from his former bandmates after the band ended by good marketing ideas and timings from his experienced manager that the other boys weren't privileged with unfortunately, but that doesn't explain anything about harry turning on louis after thy broke up and louis being the poor victim that larries and solo harries portray h to be. you guys are sensible and intellegent, but at the end of the day with your exaggerated statements of harry being extra cruel and spending his time trying to engineer louis' career downfall makes rad louies, harries and larries just different sides of the same coin.
this is long, but i rest my case here।
Hi there!
Thanks for the thorough ask, and I’ll post a few thoughts here, since I’ve addressed a lot of these points already.
I think our disagreement may come down to a question of Harry’s agency and intent— how much power does Harry really have? How is he actively directing his career, and what has he passively allowed to happen to him?
For example, did Harry actively work with Jeremy O. Harris or the producers of Euphoria to include the Larry fanfiction? If not, why did Harris mention him as an LGBT symbol for this episode?
Did Harry have the power to ask his styling assistant, Ryan Wohlgemut, to refrain from tweeting that Louis “can’t sing”?
We also disagree that Harry is targeting Louis personally. Partly this is an argument about sins of commission (is Harry actively doing it?) versus omission (does Harry let anti-Louis stuff happen around him, close to him?).
An example would be the promotion of Fine Line stacked on top of Walls promo— taking the shine away from Walls. Did Harry direct that? Probably not. Did he know about it and go along with it? Almost certainly.
Another example would be the way that Columbia Records PR mined Larry fanfiction to promote Adore You through Eroda.
On the anniversary of Jay’s death, the Visiteroda Twitter account liked a Larry tweet about “Louis the fish.” Did Harry have direct knowledge? Maybe not. Is it nevertheless part of his brand, and was it a cruel gesture? Yes to both counts.
One other point of contention that I would ask you is whether you feel Louis’ career has had abnormal roadblocks— sabotage— at all. It seems to be a Larrie head canon that somehow Louis chose everything for himself. If you don’t think the industry has conducted a strategic sabotage of Louis Tomlinson’s career, I don’t think my blog is for you. The evidence is damning.
As you said, Harry isn’t a boy anymore. He has worked with Jeff Azoff now for about eight years— they seem to be close, Harry is very invested (literally) in Jeff’s family holdings, and I reject the claim that Jeff does anything for Harry’s career that he hasn’t consulted Harry on. So you really have to ask yourself, when Harry closes his eyes to the obvious things we see, is he responsible? Or does he just “not see it”?
Btw I resent the characterization the Rads rely on head canons, “flip side of the coin” as Larries and Harries. I’ve cited numerous examples above and documented them through time. Read them here.
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awed-frog · 3 years
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Do you have any tips on how to stop binge eating? No purge yet but i’m close
Hey, sorry you’re going through that. I don’t know if I can help, but here are a few tips.
First of all - if this is something that happens frequently, you might have Binge Eating Disorder (if you purge, we’re going straight into bulimia territory), and that’s serious, so don’t leave it alone. Find a therapist if you can, or at least an online community (and NOT something HAES-based, if they say bingeing is normal behaviour or that you have to stop ‘restricting’ to fix this it, run).
For right now: I’d say, the most important thing is DON’T PURGE. Throwing up frequently will do a lot of damage to your stomach, and taking laxatives will mess with your entire digestive system, which that can be hard to recover from. I know you’re afraid you’ll gain weight if you don’t purge, but you do not want to spend the rest of your life avoiding most foods because you have an extra delicate stomach or become addicted to laxatives because you can’t poop without them. So even if you mess up and have a binge, do NOT purge.
Tips for not bingeing:
Don’t keep foods that trigger you in your home. If you feel like something specific, buy it and eat it outside - not in your car, but outside. In a restaurant if you can, and on a nice park bench if you can’t. That way, you’ll be less tempted to keep eating indefinitely, and instead turn that urge into a normal meal or snack. Don’t buy ingredients for several meals you’re craving (if you’re craving pizza and pasta, only buy a pizza or pasta sauce, not both) and don’t buy multiple packages of whatever even if it’s cheaper (one packet of crisps, one pizza and so on; and, if possible, snack-sized packets of biscuits and peanuts; if you’re craving cake, go to a nice bakery and get yourself a big slice instead of buying a cheap cake from a supermarket).
Be aware of situations that triggers you and plan around them. If you aren’t sure about connections, start keeping a very honest food / mood / events diary so you can spot patterns. Triggers can by situational (a fight with a loved one, your mom being annoying, having to buy new clothes and so on) or physical (PMS, insulin out of whack so even one piece of chocolate will lead to overeating more stuff). Once you know what triggers you, avoid what you can and try to plan ahead for what you can’t.
(For instance, if a weekly review at your job triggers you, arrange to see or call a friend afterwards or go to the movies.)
To make PMS better, there are things you can try: the best ones are exercise (especially outside) and satisfying meals (eat healthy but add fats even if you’re craving sugars).
Distract yourself and get away from passive &screen-related activities. Try putting on some music and dancing, or cleaning the house. Reorganize your closet. Start a hobby you have to do with your hands - knitting, crafts, clay. Go for a walk if you can. Listen to audiobooks. Take a nice shower. Call someone (it can be a support buddy you can talk to about cravings, but also someone who doesn’t know: it’s nice just to talk).
Tips for after bingeing:
Do not feel bad about it. This is a mental health issue. Bingeing doesn’t mean you’re weak or worthless, it means you have a disease and you’re trying to get better. You wouldn’t say someone who’s got the flu is weak-willed, and this is exactly the same.
Clean your kitchen and throw away everything that’s left. I know - it’s not ideal to waste food, but chances are, if you have any leftovers that can trigger you, you’ll start bingeing again tomorrow morning. So put everything in a bag and physically walk out of your house and throw it away.
Make yourself a nice cup of tea - if possible, something that will help with digestion.
Cheer yourself up: this was a stumble, and doesn’t negate your achievements and how far you’ve come in your life.
Go to bed early.
Do not fall into the trap of the ‘I might as well’ mentality. This is called black and white thinking and is common in many kinds of mental health issues: the idea is that if you ‘ruined’ your meal or your day or your schedule, ‘you might as well’ give up for the day or the week. This is your mental health issue speaking, and it’s bullshit. I don’t particularly like Jillian Michaels, but she was right when she said ‘Think of it this way: If you got a flat tire, what would you do? Change the tire? Or get out of the car and slash the other three tires? No! Get back on the road. Don't dwell on it; don't beat yourself up. That gets you nowhere.’
You had one bad meal, or one bad day. It doesn’t feel great, but it’s not the end of the world. Have a good night’s sleep and start fresh tomorrow.
General tips:
Binge eating disorder often starts when you use food as a coping mechanism, so work on that. Many of us are messed up because parents generally associate food rewards to good behaviour and good food to joyful occasions, but that connection needs to be broken down. If you had a good day, don’t reward yourself with food (go to a spa, buy yourself some fun earrings or a nice book) and if you had a bad day, absolutely do NOT console yourself with food (call a friend, go to the movies, go to a fun place like an aquarium, buy yourself something nice that’s not food-related).
Unless you’re underweight (check your BMI and fat percentage), pregnant or breastfeeding, do compensate for a binge - in a healthy, sustainable way. Do not have a water fast day, but maybe cut down on portions, sauces or sweets for a couple of days? 
I know people say there’s no bad foods and ‘everything in moderation’, but imo that’s not true. We’re surrounded by fake foods that mess with our hormones and bodies, and cutting them out completely can be a great idea. For instance: junk food sucks. I know it’s made so be enjoyable so we enjoy it, but it is what it is. Sugar is also very bad, and should be eaten very rarely, if at all (my favourite book on the subject is The World Corrupted, but there are many out there).
If you’re craving a particular food, make it yourself or get a ‘good’ version of it. Enjoying a restaurant meal with someone or cooking a nice dish or glorious cupcakes for your friends, spouse or kids is much better and more satisfying than hoarding low-quality food from some 7/11 (it might not feel that way in the beginning, but that will get better).
Try to make your health the priority: eat good food (lots of seasonal veggies, grains and beans, healthy fats, quality source proteins), stick to water, tea and some coffee, move around regularly (we should all do some sport that makes our heartbeat raise, but if you’re not used to that a gentle walk around the block is perfectly fine: the idea is to make it a habit), check your vitamin levels (a lack of something will cause bad moods!), manage your stress (easier said than done, but stress does have a very harmful effect on your entire body, so we all have to try what we can).
If you don’t feel in control of your eating, and if your eating habits are affecting your quality of life or preventing you from having a normal life (rapid weight gain or loss, spending money you don’t have, lying to loved ones, recurrent fights over food, obsessive thoughts, withdrawing from social life etc), then SEEK HELP IMMEDIATELY. Eating disorders are a disease, and it’s very rare that they get better on their own. 
Be patient. You didn’t get an eating disorder overnight, and recovery will also take time. That is fine and normal.
Again, stay the hell away from fat activists and HAES groups.
I hope this helped. Please remember you’re not alone. Eating disorders are extremely common, and there’s nothing to be ashamed of. Just look after yourself, and treat this as you would any purely physical health issue. Recovery is possible, managing the disease is possible. Just hang in there and best of luck.
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7 great ways to support your friends and neighbours through covid-19 financial crisis. (without referring them to foodbanks)
Tried and tested great ways to support your friends through covid-19 related financial difficulties that they will really appreciate.
We all know someone who financially struggling at the moment. Even if you’re not aware, chances are you do, and that they’re too embarrassed to say. I have spent the majority of my adult life working, making a good life, providing for my family and their future. For me and so many others so many this is in jeopardy. 
There have been over 3 million claims for Universal credit since lockdown. Thousands of small business owners, freelancers, newly self employed, limited company directors and contractors have been left out of government support schemes and their incomes have gone down to £409.89 a month. 
These are people who’ve worked hard in their careers, they’ve got mortgages and car payments and families depending on them. You know them, they live on your street, your kids play together, you’ve been enjoying Friday night zoom quizzes together. They’re me.
Its hard to know how to help without risking damage to an already crippled ego.   Its actually much harder to accept charity than to give it. UK mental health charity SANE has reported a 200% increase in calls to its helpline since lockdown. Its put many of us into a state of limbo, we can’t get a job in a supermarket, they’re all full, and the UK’s fruit farms have been inundated with applications from Brits (I’ve checked) and of course theres the childcare, with no school, who looks after the kids?
So… if you’re doing OK, and you're still got your job,  here are are ways you can support your friends and neighbours. 
COMMUNICATE:  It sounds obvious but a face to face conversation is a good start. Questions like “How are you?” And “How can I help” will make a world of difference. Mostly people don’t feel comfortable sharing their worries with those closest to them, especially if they’re cooped up in a house together, so bending the ear off a friend can be a huge release. It helps you to determine an appropriate way to help. Don’t just talk about finances though, your beard growing skills deserve a conversation too. 
MONEY: yeh sure money would make a difference but you can’t just post wads of cash through your friends letterbox, that would be weird. Besides, who has money to spare when the world faces the worst recession since the great depression? There are other ways to be supportive, but if you think you might be able to help financially then ask if they would accept it. A good friend of mine knew that my fridge freezer broke last month, and they asked if they could give me some money towards a new one. They didn’t make it weird or go on about how they were doing a good deed, they just gave me and envelope, I thanked them and nothing more was said. 
SUPPORTING THEIR IDEAS: It is highly likely that your friend has had many sleepless nights trying to think of ways to make ends meet. Ideas are born and they can see a glimmer of a silver lining to a very dark cloud. Please support them! Maybe its a total career change like writing online content (ahem..). They could be mowing lawns or renting out a spare room, maybe they’re making the ugliest jewellery you’ve ever seen. Buy it! Hire them! Share their social media page! 
BE MINDFUL OF PERSONAL STRUGGLES: This one really applies to everyone regardless of their financial situation. Adults and children with special needs and mental health issues have had little respite. Again its a difficult subject, as talking about our mental health is as taboo as talking about our finances, but I guarantee that there is someone close to you silently struggling with their mental health.  Take your neighbours kids out for ice cream, ask the single man next door if he would be interested in taking your dog for a walk around the block, play socially distanced frisbee. Make each other laugh.
FEED THEM: Food, it’s a tricky one. Nobody wants to admit they can’t feed their family, but its a harsh reality for many. New figures show that last month demand for food banks was greater than ever – an 89 per cent rise for The Trussell Trust, the UK’s biggest food bank network, while the Independent Food Aid Network, which has around 350 food banks, saw a 175 per cent increase in requests for emergency parcels. Believe me when I say that if someone is struggling to feed their family, then they know all about the local food bank, and that if they haven’t used it already, its up to them to decide when they’re ready to do so. What you can do is take them a good old fashioned lasagne, a shepherds pie, share a socially distanced BBQ once a week. Ask them to sample your bread making attempts or the courgettes you’ve grown in the garden or make room in your freezer by giving them 3 pints of milk you’ve been hoarding in there since March. 
BRIGHTEN THEIR DAY: Treats are great, they’re a bit naughty and self indulgent and they make us happy. Every now and then my neighbour leaves a bottle of beer on my doorstep, its a luxury I can’t afford and today an anonymous giant bar of dairy milk arrived in the post much to my children's (any my) delight. Its the little things that we used to take for granted that are missed the most. They don’t cost much but if your friend is cutting costs then treats are the first things to go. 
DO SOME RESEARCH: Charities that have emergency relief funds but their resources are running low, so they’re a great place to donate to. A lot of local charities aren’t brilliant at online marketing so they take a bit of searching for. Ask at your local council and citizens advice or tourist information, its easier to ask for someone else than it is for yourself. However, and I say this from experience, don’t give them your friends name, its not your place, just gather the information and then hand it over. Also, and I can’t believe this needs to be said but, don’t talk about it in front of their children. “Mummy are we poor?” is a heartbreaking thing to hear.
Writing this has made be realise how lucky I am to have such a great community of friends. I feel supported and valued and best of all I know we can get through this together. Listen to your friends, find out what you can do to support them and do it discretely. They’re your friend, and thats why you’re trying to help. It makes you a good friend too.
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thecandywrites · 4 years
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Jewel Of The North Part 8
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The calm down but a little storm is about to be brewed into a hurricane. 
Again, thanks to @monstersandmaw​ for sharing ice orcs with me. I really appreciate it. Alorna is in the bottom left corner. 
Enjoy. 
Jewel Of The North 
Part 8
“What is wrong with you? You are the only person on the planet that the thought of a millionaire joining the family pisses you off!” John yelled at his wife before he got a call from work. 
“What?” He demanded. 
“Tim called off, is there any way we can get you to come in?” Harald asked him. 
“Yeah, I’ll be there in a bit.” John grumbled before he hung up. 
“You go home and cool off and just think about this and work on a good apology and how we can get into Zara’s good graces. We need her to like us. She’s from a good family and I would bet you twenty bucks that she paid off all her family’s debts, she could do the same for your parents, all of our family’s and hell even Neena’s family’s debts- if she wanted to. She could even donate to the clans. She’s a godsend, literally. You’re always complaining about how I don’t make enough money and how poor we are and our one shot into an easy life in the lap of luxury and you pissed it away on your petty jealousy over what? Because her son is in ballet? Who the fuck cares? He could torture small animals for fun or literally anything else and it shouldn’t make a damn difference! Or was it because she was Anglo? Hell, I’m mostly Anglo and the only time you give a damn is when you can reserve judgement whenever a native marries a non native and you get to sit on top of your high horse and drag everyone else into the mud even though you’re the most guilty of it. Or was the biggest reason you instantly didn’t like her was because she was prettier than you? Gave you some competition for being the most beautiful woman in the family? Was that it? Gods you are so vain! Get over yourself, the world does not revolve around you! She can afford to give Sakura anything she wants and everything she needs and therefore, everything we want and everything we need. She’s the best kind of rich because she wasn’t born with it so her parents didn’t get the chance to tell her to hoard it all, she’s only had it for a couple of years and poor people love to share new wealth! If you had just played nice like your parents asked, we would be on the winning side of this! You knew the family would turn on you if you turned on her. You should have just kept your mouth shut and your judgement to yourself!” John barked as he drove them home before she got out of the car and slammed her door shut and stomped into the house and had a temper tantrum. 
She couldn’t lose like this. Then she got an idea. 
She got in her car and drove to the community center where she knew the remaining elder body would be gathered going over the final details of the festivities the day after tomorrow. But on the way, she saw Doug stumble out of another bar and stagger to his car. 
“What happened to you?” She asked as she pulled up next to him. 
“You don’t want to know.” Doug shook his head. 
“Does it have something to do with Zarasashasabine Kingsley?” She inquired smugly before he looked up at her. 
“Get in and tell me everything.” She invited before he did as she asked and got into her car as she drove to the community center and once there, they stayed and came up with a scheme to get even before Doug seemed to sober up before they went into the center together to address the council. 
“Hey, so there’s been a development…” Alorna insisted to the remaining council of elders that were gathered there. 
Meanwhile-
“Well that was awkward.” You murmured to Noah quietly as he drove over to Taylor’s house to pick up the remainder of your things from her house. 
“That was just Alorna, she always has a blow up at about every family gathering we have. I don’t know if you noticed how everyone else there was way over her bull shit. Literally everyone was mad at her for making a scene. You didn’t do anything wrong.” Noah reassured you before he took your hand from where your arm was wrapped around Sakura and kissed the back of it sweetly. 
“You’re not allowed to feel bad or guilty over the mess Alorna made, it’s Alorna’s mess to clean up. Not yours.” He insisted. “Just give her a wide berth at the summer solstice and you’ll be fine.” He advised. “But it means a lot to me and everyone else that you’ll be coming to it as a priestess. That means the world to the rest of us.” Noah encouraged. 
“You’re welcome, I’ll be happy to do it. Is there anything that needs to be done, like any work on outfits or accessories or anything like that?” You asked. 
“It’s stuff we can work on tomorrow.” He assured you. 
Once you gathered the rest of your things from Taylor’s house and got it all finally put in Noah’s house, he went ahead and took out his ceremonial outfit and laid it out along with Sakura’s as you made sure Sakura would fit hers only to find out that hers was too small. 
“Well lucky for you sweetie, I can sew and first thing tomorrow, we’re gonna go to town and see what we can do to make this work ok?” You reassured Sakura before you all got ready for bed. 
It felt so natural to get into bed with Noah and even though you had a Frozen Tundra sized king bed. You two were cuddled close and you nearly melted when Noah began to scratch your back. 
“Oooh, harder baby,” You moaned which he obliged before you stripped off your night shirt and laid over his chest to provide him all the access to your back you could and before you knew it, scratching turned to stroking turned to massaging and you were in utter bliss. 
“You have an amazing sense of touch. Your pressure is awesome.” You genuinely praised. 
“Thanks.” Noah grinned proudly. Happy that he could please you so well and when you felt his cock poke at your core through the strain of his boxers, it turned you on and before you knew it you had stripped off your underwear and rode him with great enthusiasm because the look of him just staring up at you in awed wonder made you feel like a wonder of the universe. Especially when he would make all these little keens and groans and moans and murmured his praise and love and adoration made you feel like a goddess and the look of him under you was a sight you would happily engrave into your mind forever. He was...perfect. He was handsome, he was built like a blue marble statue of a god and his strong hands that tightly grasped your hips as he guided your movements while also pushing up into you from below were heavenly. 
The next morning you were woken up to the sound of your phone going off and the caller ID told you it was your children. 
“Good morning.” You greeted sleepily from inside Noah’s embrace since he was spooning you. 
“Good morning, are you with Noah?” Skylar asked. 
“Yes I am.” You confirmed. 
“Can we talk to him?” Skylar requested. 
“Sure,” you answered as you gently stroked your foot on his leg which did get him to stir. 
“The kids want to talk to you.” You told him as you handed him your phone from over your shoulder which he lifted his head off his pillow to crack an eye open to see it before he unwrapped his arm which had been wrapped around your waist to reach up and gently take it from you before you turned around in his embrace and cuddled into his warm chest and continue to use his upper arm as your pillow which caused him to bend the arm at the elbow to fold it so he could wrap his forearm around your upper back and shoulders before his fingertips began to delicately stroke your arm. 
“Hello,” he greeted groggily. 
“So, we have been thinking. And if you were up to it...” Skylar began. 
“Put the phone on speaker.” You suggested since you could overhear your daughter before he did as you asked and let the phone rest on the side of your head which made you snort a laugh as his other hand snaked around you and pulled you flush against him as you could feel his morning wood pinned between you which in turn invited you to hike your leg up around his hip. You could still feel all the seed he pumped you full of last night squish between your feminine lips and yet, here you were, hungry for more and Noah’s hand that found your knee and was stroking up your leg to your rear to give it a good squeeze as his hips rolled into yours- it was divine and one of the best ways to wake up. Gods, if you kept this up, your pussy was going to get raw. But at least you were catching up for lost time. 
“Would you be able to take a week off of work so you and Sakura would be able to go on a family cruise with us?” Skylar proposed. 
“Oh no you don’t. No. Nothing too expensive and cruises are nothing but expensive, try again.” You immediately cut in as you picked up the phone to speak into it before you set the phone down on the pillow between Noah’s head and your own. 
“We know, just hear us out before you shoot it down, that’s why we want Noah and Sakura to be our guests on a Disney cruise, to the Frozen Tundra. We originally wanted to go to the Bahamas but Grandpa Gru said that ice orcs can get really sick if they get too hot and we don’t want Sakura especially to get sick. So we figured a Frozen Tundra cruise would be a good in-between. They get to show us a snapshot of the Frozen Tundra and we can show them some Wainwright slash Kingsley hospitality. And we doubt Sakura’s ever been on a cruise and Disney makes the best kids cruises and the kids activities would still give you guys some privacy if you wanted it and we can even get a two bedroom cabin so we can all stay together and Skylar already called dibs on the loft bed and once we can sit down and talk about the possibilities of our two families merging and what that would look like and how that would work and if we figure out it’s not gonna work out, then we got to go on a nice vacation with a nice family and if it does end up working out and we click, the week after the cruise, Noah can fly us home and show us the Frozen Tundra in more detail and we can meet his friends and family and all that jazz.” Xander specified. 
“When would you want to go?” Noah asked. 
“The cruise week would be the third week in July, that way we can have the last week in July up there if everything goes well and that still gives us time to come back home at the beginning of August and have time to get back on our sleep schedule for school.” Xander informed him. 
“What do you think?” Noah asked you. 
“I will admit, I may have been a little too hasty to shoot that down, I apologize for not being respectful in listening to the whole offer before I made a decision. It sounds like a lot of thought and considerations were put into this and all of that sounds fair to me and that gives me enough time to book it and get things mapped out and planned out.” You answered. 
“Then we have a deal.” Noah answered your kids as you heard their cheers which made you and Noah chuckle. 
“Is there anything else that you need to tell me?” You asked as Noah wasted no time in groping your breasts from under your night shirt and you responded by pushing your chest into his touch because you had missed intimate touches like this. 
“Nope, that’s all, we’re looking forward to it.” Your kids chirped charmingly. 
“Well call me if you need me ok?” You invited. 
“Will do, bye.” They bid you before they hung up and right on cue just as Noah finally hiked his hips up into yours and seated himself to the hilt in you, his phone went off. 
“Oh you’ve got to be kidding me.” Noah groaned as he checked his phone. 
“I am so sorry,” He apologized to you. “Unfortunately I have to answer this.” He said before he answered the phone. 
“Hey Kragan.” He answered. 
“Hey Noah, sorry to bother you but I have a load of supplies that needs to be delivered to Fair Banks for the festival tomorrow and I can’t get a hold of anyone else. Is there any way you can do this load? I can pay…” Kragan began. 
“Yeah, I can do that. Give me a bit, I’m in the middle of something right this second.” Noah said as his hips stroked into yours and you bit your bottom lip to keep from moaning. 
“Thank you so much Noah,” Kragan thanked him before he hung up and with that, he rolled over you and started up in earnest. 
“Don’t you have to get going?” You asked as you clung to him as Noah lavished licks and bites and sucks on your neck, giving you another hickey. 
“I always finish what I start.” Noah murmured in your ear before he picked up speed. 
“Lucky me.” You giggled before you gasped then moaned when he nipped at your ear lobe. 
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jimlingss · 4 years
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The Colour of Our Voices [6]
Chapter 5 - Chapter 6 - Chapter 6.5 OR Chapter 7
➜ Words: 4.1k
➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU
➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.
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You try not to let the negative, disgusting feelings get to you.   But envy is a monster that keeps hovering over your shoulder, always peering at what you’re doing, always making petty comments in your weakest moments. You try to tune it out, but it constantly tempts you in whispers to be honest with yourself.   It’s hard to keep it at bay too when every turn you make, you see Jimin’s face. From the moment you step outside the comfort of your apartment to when you get back — he never gives you a moment to compose yourself, to heal, to overcome the green monster. He sticks to your side like gum and you can’t help the way your resentments build into hatred.   “Did you hear?” there are murmurs as you’re cleaning up a spill on the floor, knees sore and bruised blue. The director spilled his coffee and immediately pointed at you and told you to take care of the mess.   “What?”   “Jimin got a role in the Les Mis production.”   “What? Really?” she gasps. “That’s impressive. No wonder he’s not here today.”   “I knew he could do it, he’s cute. I’d let him have his way with me.”   “God, you’re never satisfied, aren’t you?” There are snickers and giggles. “But he must be really good. Didn’t he just come here too? But we should see if we can get tickets to watch.”   “Good idea. I’d love to see him on stage,” she hums. “I wonder if he’ll quit this job.”   “Probably. Working as an intern here is pretty much working as a slave for the director. It’s a shitty ass job,” she mutters and you can feel their heavy stares on your backside. “Wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.”   “Shame,” she sing-songs. “I was hoping he’d stick around.”   Your hand crumples into a tight fist, into the dirty cloth that’s stained your skin. Then you scrub harder until your fingernails hurt, until it’s as painful as the way your eyes sting.   //   Your appetite is gone. You can’t swallow your food despite having skipped lunch — the director had sent you on a wild goose chase to pick up a package at the post office and by the time you were done, your lunch break was long over.   You play with dinner using your fork, and Jimin doesn’t notice. He keeps talking about all about him and his accomplishments. You didn’t want to be here in the first place, but he insisted on going out for a celebratory dinner, pressured you into it even when you tried rejecting him.   And here you are.    “So I came in today for the first time, and it was so exciting. You wouldn’t believe it, Y/N. You were right when you said the Phantom production was low-budget. These sets that some other musicals have are a world’s difference.”   “I see.”   Jimin stuffs his cheeks with french fries, getting ketchup at the corner of his mouth. “I’m starting officially on Monday, so I’ll probably quit my internship. I already gave the director a call to let him know tomorrow will be my last day and he sounded pretty happy for me. He even said he’d write a recommendation letter if I ever needed one.”   You drop the fork in your bowl, retracting your hands into your lap. “Wow, that’s really great, Jimin.”   “I don’t think I’ll need a letter any time soon.” Jimin smiles and shakes his head, sipping on his soda. “I’m just so psyched to begin rehearsals. They ran me through a few things and what my costume will be and what it’ll look like before we perform in a few months. Sometimes I just can’t believe that I’m actually there. It’s just surreal to think about how I’ll be on stage. Everything at that production is so amazing, Y/N, completely different from Phantom’s production, you should’ve seen it.”   “Yeah. Wish I could’ve….”   “And now people are taking my coffee orders! Can you believe that?!”   You can’t even muster a smile. There’s a thick lump formed in your throat that hurts to talk past and you’re holding back from crying, not wanting to lose the last shreds of your pride.   Jimin doesn’t know that you never asked to hear any of this, that his innocent gloating is grating to your ears.    “I couldn’t have done it without you.” He gives a cheesy grin and then bites into his burger and puts it down after wiping his mouth free of the sauce. “Seriously, if not for you, I probably wouldn’t have made the role. I didn’t know what I was doing before you taught me the ins and outs of the industry. I bet I’d still be at home rolling around in bed.”   Your tight lipped mouth attempts to pull. “You’re welcome.”   “I’d love to make it up to you some time...s-so...uh...I-I’ve been meaning to ask something.” Jimin nervously laughs and scratches the back of his neck.   You wonder why you’re here, why you’re allowing yourself to feel this misery. You should be at home, underneath the covers of your own bed. Not out here in the cold feeling humiliated. You’ve wasted enough time on Jimin and he’s gotten what he wanted from you.   The two of you are no less than strangers.   “O-Of course, only if you want to, no pressure whatsoever, but there was this theater show coming up tomorrow, I was wondering, well I wanted to ask, um, if you wanted to j-join, I got tickets—”   You don’t hear him. Too busy in your own thoughts.   You grab your bag. “I’m not feeling very well, Jimin. I think I’m going to head home first.”   His eyes are owlish, big and rounded, blinking at you. The boy looks at your unfinished food and then back at you in alarm. “Are you okay? Do you need me to bring you to the hospital? What’s wrong?”   “No, I’m fine. I’m just—” You sigh, unable to come up with a coherent explanation. “—tired.”   Tired from the day. Tired of your life. Tired of him.   Jimin stands when you do. “We can go back together.”   “No, it’s fine,” you insist as lies roll off your tongue, “I might actually stop by a friend’s house tonight.”   “Do you want me to walk you to the subway then? I can go right now—”   “No, it’s okay. Promise.” You can’t bring yourself to smile at him, to spend one more second in his presence. You’re scared you might permanently hate Jimin. “See you.”   “Bye…” His hand lifts to wave, watching you walk away.   Once you’ve disappeared from sight, Jimin dejectedly plops back down into the seat of his booth. He peeks into his pocket and sighs as he looks at the two tickets to the show. He shouldn’t have been so nervous. He wonders what he should do with them now.   But next time. Next time for sure, he’ll ask you on a date.
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You’re strung around a lot.   You realized this after your many encounters with Jimin, but everyone in your entire life has strung you around like a pet for their own amusement. Even now, the director brings you places to do his dirty work for him while making you believe that he’ll give you a reference someday, that he’ll give you a chance.    But if you’re honest with yourself, you know he’ll never do it.   He’ll never pick up his goddamn phone and call an agent for you. He’ll never give you the praise you deserve for being his ghost singer. And these facts alone are enough for you to want to grab the nearest brick available and smash it on his dumb head.   But you can’t do that as irritated and as pissed off as you are these days. You can’t go to prison and you can’t quit this shitty job. You need money from somewhere, and you won’t be succeeding in any auditions any time soon — you know that too.   You’re stuck. Trapped in your own inability to succeed. Stranded in your own routine. Even when the entire world keeps moving.   You feel like you’re in a glass case, a phone booth in the middle of the metropolis, watching the universe continue, watching how others move past you.   “Intern. Intern!”   “Huh?”   “Did you not hear me?” The director sighs and rubs his temples. “Don’t make me regret bringing you here, alright?”   Except he didn’t bring you here willingly. Taeyeon couldn’t come to the networking event — the stupid party for ‘charity’ that was actually meant for the sponsor to brag about his wealth. The invitation became open and he saw you staring at him intently, so he reluctantly told you to come with. But now the director was acting like he has bestowed onto you a huge honour.   “Go get one of the waiters to bring those finger food platters to us. They keep running out by the time they get to this side of the room.”   “Yes, sir.”   You remind yourself this job is a privilege. A privilege.   You cut through the room and crowds that make you sweaty. It feels as though everyone’s eyes are on your backside despite knowing that logically no one cares. You’re a ghost in the sea of fancy dresses and glamour.   “—And so, one day I just told him that of course we had to eat during the layover, we were in Italy for god’s sake. It’s eat-aly for a reason.”   Seokjin seems to be enjoying himself. He’s drawn in a crowd with his handsomeness and godly appearance. Even his ridiculous jokes rouse laughter. You’d probably giggle along if he ever wanted to entertain you, but at this point, you might end up bursting into tears after laughing.   “You’re so funny, Jin.”   “Am I? Hmm. Always thought I should do stand-up comedy.”   You continue making your way, catching a waiter walking past and in an attempt to grab his attention, you dive straight through a hoard of people. Apologies roll off your tongue while they grunt. But by the time you get to the other side, the waiter is gone.   Instead you see someone else — the person that you wanted to see the least in the whole entire world.   “Actually, I started in community theater.”   “Oh, really?! What did you do?”   “Well, I did a lot, but I think my favourite role was when I did Peter Pan. That was pretty fun and a really good experience.”   “I can see that.” The suited man hums. “Can’t you?”   “Yes.” The woman on the man’s arm is swooning over the younger boy. “I think that role is rather fitting.”   The brunette is dressed in a well-pressed suit that looks brand new, as if he had just got it off the rack yesterday in haste. But he looks comfortable surrounded in his new group, probably members of his production.   You watch for a second from afar, stuck at another standstill, feet rooted in the ground. Jimin gets along with people easily. He’s only shy on the surface. It’s smart to talk to so many people and to expand his horizons, to actively socialize. He’ll probably get more connections here at the event. It’s only up from here.   You’re envious that Jimin is being presented as a new Broadway actor while you’re just an intern.   Though you sigh with a smile despite your inner turmoil. For a second, one small second, you’re almost happy for him—   But the timing is poor.   As you turn away to fully disappear, he catches you out of the corner of his eye. And Jimin takes a step forward, calling your name out loud, clear and crisp in the air. You shut your eyes, hoping your ears are mistaken, but they aren’t.   He dismisses himself from his new colleagues and comes over to you with the biggest smile.   “I didn’t know you would be here, Y/N!.”   “Y-Yeah, um, I’m here as an intern.”   “Oh, I didn’t even see the director. I should go say hi.” Jimin glances up and down at you. You wonder if he’s judging your meager attire when everyone else is glamorous. But you don’t let your thoughts stray too far into self-deprecation.   You inhale a huge breath, trying your best to get along with him.   “You look like you’re having a fun time.”   “Hardly,” Jimin admits. “I just came since everyone else did and I didn’t want to be that new guy who didn’t come to social events, y’know?”   “Yeah, I get it.”   You wonder when it became so hard to talk to him.   “The food here is actually pretty good, have you had a chance to try it yet?”   “No, not yet.”   “I recommend the tiramisu and truffle fries. It’s delicious. Here we should go to the buffet table.”   “Actually, Jimin, I have to go—”   “There’s something I want to tell you,” he interjects with a softened smile. Jimin waits patiently for your response, so you nod, following him for the sake of not being awkward.   The two of you come to a quieter spot by the corner of the room where the tables are.   “What is it?”   “Earlier I was just walking around trying to make conversation with different people and I spoke to this guy and we had a pretty regular conversation, but it turns out he’s the casting director of an upcoming, original production!” Jimin’s excitedly rambling, sharing the good news with you as if you’re close friends. “It’s called When Summer Meets Winter, and there’s nothing official yet, but he said he really likes me. Do you think I’ll get a part?”   You don’t know why he’s telling you this.   “I...I don’t know, Jimin.”   “Can you believe it though? If I had another role lined up right after this one?!”   “Congratulations,” you deadpan.   “Well nothing’s decided yet.” Jimin sheepishly smiles, unaware of how he was literally pouring kilograms of salt into your wounds, gallons of gas into the fire.   “Is this what you wanted to tell me? I should really get going, Jimin. I’m on the job right now. And I can’t afford to get fired.”   “Wait.” He grabs your wrist before you can turn away from him, desperate eyes asking you to stay for a moment longer. “I...a-actually wanted to ask you something…..and I’ve been meaning to do it for a while now but I never really got the chance, well that’s not true, I had a lot of chances but I chickened out because I was a coward—”   “What?” you sigh in exasperation, annoyed beyond belief. “What is it, Jimin?”   He looks you dead in the eyes. “Will you come with me to an improv class?”   “Pardon?”   “There’s an upcoming improv class. I heard about it, and it’s free. It’s just that we had gone to so many shows before but we never got a real chance to participate, so I thought it would be really fun.”   You don’t want to. Thinking about it makes you scared. And you still haven’t healed from your most recent failure.   “I don’t think so, Jimin...I…”   “Please?” he insists, “I think it would be so much fun.”   “I’ve been pretty busy—”   “I haven’t even told you when it was yet! How would you know if you’re busy?” Jimin laughs, the sound bubbling out of his throat. “And plus, they have a lot of days available.”   There’s an extended silence.    It’s too much work to reject him, to find an excuse, to make this more awkward than it needs to be. You just want to leave, want him to let you go. So you agree. “Fine.”   He grins. “Okay. It’s this Friday at seven. I’ll see you then?”   “Sure. But—”   You’re interrupted by a yell. “Y/N! Where did you go? My god, I sent you to do one task and you got distracted like this?” The director is appalled as he comes over, shaking his head, outright humiliating you.   And Jimin smiles. “Director Kang! How are you?”   “Jimin!” The older man smiles and hugs him. “What’s my favourite intern doing here?”   “I came with my new production team.”   “Up on the high ranks now, aren’t you?” Director Kang slings his arm over Jimin’s shoulder as if the pair of them are sharing a secret. “Make sure to remember who got you there. It’s good to show gratitude.”   Jimin steals a glance at you. “I remember.”   But by then, you’ve already turned away, grabbing the nearest waiter and asking him to bring over a platter of finger foods for the director.   People might see you as a timid mat to walk all over. But you just really itch to set the whole place on fucking fire.    //   Friday comes too quickly, and once you step outside to face the consequences of your decisions, Jimin is there to greet you with a smile as if to show how perfect his life is going.   On the way there, he summarizes his week and somehow gives extensive details — from the rehearsals to the new things he learnt, to how amazing the cast is and what it’s like to work with people who are passionate about musicals. You tune him out, and fortunately you arrive soon enough.   It’s a dingy entrance way and a hall that leads to a lit studio. But as skeptical as you were, there’s quite a few people there. There are around thirteen folks who are both friendly as they are invasive. Though Jimin is comfortable with them while you linger behind him.   It quiets down when the teacher steps into the room.   “Hello everyone.” The blonde with bright eyes flashes a boxy smile. He’s dressed in a loose dress shirt, tight trousers, a sophisticated but casual outfit. And he’s charming, outspoken, drawing the attention of the crowd. “Looks like we have some new faces today, so I’ll introduce myself. My name is Kim Taehyung. I am an aspiring screenplay writer and producer, currently assisted to Director Lee if you know who he is. And today, I am your improv teacher, director, leader, whatever you want to call it.”   Kim Taehyung….   Everyone goes around the room to introduce themselves, and your fixation on Taehyung shatters when Jimin, next to you, announces himself.   “Hello! My name is Park Jimin, and I’m currently working towards my Broadway debut.”   “Oh, impressive,” Taehyung genuinely expresses, eyes twinkling with curiosity. “What production are you in?”   “Les Mis.”   “Wow.” He nods with a smile and looks off at you. You feel the entire focus of the room shift onto you and you begin sweating, uncomfortable, panicking.    “I’m Y/N…” You cringe at how awkward you are, at how quiet your volume is. Others have to murmur to each other to confirm what your name is.   But Taehyung smiles kindly. “And are you interested in improv, Y/N?”   “A little.”   He laughs, a glorious sound that’s chirpy and melodic. “Well, let’s hope it changes to a lot by the time this is over.”   Taehyung turns to the class afterwards, reassuring that it’s all for fun while explaining what the theme is for today. He also explains the rules, what to do, and how to set up a scene.   “Oh no, a man’s been shot!” someone screams, startling you to death.   “I’m the paramedic.” Someone else steps in right away. “He can only be saved by true love’s kiss.”   “Oh my god, George!” Another comes colliding onto the set up scene, next to the man laying on the ground. Someone asks if she’s his girlfriend and she responds with, “I’m his sister.”   It arouses some stiff laughter. “Well that’s awkward. We need someone to kiss him!”   “Gross, I’m not kissing him,” the supposed sister drops him back onto the ground. “He has herpes.”   “She’s right.” Jimin seizes the opportunity and comes in. “I’m his doctor and he’s contracted herpes through kissing raccoons.”   “Are you sure that it’s herpes and not rabies?”   “I’m sure.”   “They’re very different things.”   “I’m aware,” Jimin says smoothly, thinking on his toes, “But we need someone to kiss him stat.”   “Well, you’re the doctor! Can’t you go through the medical procedures and kiss him?!”   “Sorry. Can’t risk contracting diseases. It’s protocol.”   Someone on the scene asks who they’ll contact now. But it’s so bizarre. You don’t know what’s going on — you can’t keep up — it’s happening too quickly and each time you gather the courage to jump into it, the development is too fast for you to conjure more ideas of what to do or say.   But you’re the next person to step in and everyone turns to you.   You’re apprehensive, nervous. You know you’re bad, that you’ll mess up—   “You can do it,” Taehyung murmurs, having watched the scene unfold. His arms are crossed, but his grin is welcoming and warm. He encourages you with a gentle gesture.   You clear your throat and try strutting into the scene. “I-I’m nurse Joy. I was told there was a bachelor party at this venue?”   Taehyung laughs. “Creative.”   The scene unravels in absolute absurdity. You exchange a look with Jimin before your eyes stray off to Taehyung and stay there. It’s surprisingly fun. It’s not so nerve wracking when everyone’s on their toes, when there’s no real audience or anyone to scrutinize you.   Everyone’s a part of the performance.   “There’s no right or wrong,” Taehyung tells, approaching your side as another scene is unfolding. “Try to relax more into it.”   “Okay.” You take his advice and he smiles, endeared.    An hour eventually passes and class is dismissed. Everyone bids farewell and you’re gathering your belongings when Taehyung comes up to you while wearing his coat, balancing his own briefcase.    “You’re really good. It was your first time, right?”   “Y-Yeah.” You try not to show how flustered you are over his praise. “Thanks, I don’t think I’m any good.”   “Don’t say that. It all comes with practice and hard work.”   “And luck,” you add. Not everything can be achieved through perseverance — you realized that a long time ago.   “That too. But did I end up changing your mind?”   “About what?”   “Are you a little more interested in improv?”   You consider it for a moment before becoming honest with your emotions. “A little…?”   “Only a little?” Kim Taehyung gives an exaggerated huff, obviously teasing you. “Aw, jeez, I failed, didn’t I? I was hoping you’d love it by the time it was over.”   “Maybe next time I’ll love it more,” you banter back to him and he laughs.   “So I’ll see you again?”   “Maybe.” You shrug.   Taehyung smiles, the corner of his mouth tilted gingerly. He glances down at his shoes before peeking up at you past his bangs and thick lashes. “What do you do, Y/N?” he asks in a husky timbre that has your chest stuttering.   But you don’t know what to say. You’re embarrassed to tell him you’re an intern. You’ve never been proud of that title and somehow, you find yourself not wanting to tell him.   So you opt to evade it playfully. “Why do you want to know?”   He hums a low note. “Because I’d love to know your availability—”   “Y/N?” He’s interrupted by a soft voice and when the both of you turn, you find Jimin has been standing at the doorway, having watched the entire interaction. His cheeks are pink and he tensely hitches a thumb over his shoulder. “We...should get going. Wouldn’t want to miss the train…”   You look back at Taehyung. “Um, I really had a fun time today. Thanks for teaching…”   “It’s my pleasure, Y/N.”    You like the way he calls your name. The way the syllables roll off his tongue. It sounds nice. Pleasant.    When you walk out the door and glance back, you see his boxy grin and cheerful wave. You wave back to him with a kind of smile that hasn’t reached your features in a long time.   “Did...you have fun?” Jimin peeks at you as you’re on your way back.   “Yeah, surprisingly.” You smile up at the night sky before turning to Jimin. “Taehyung’s super nice, huh?”   “Yeah. He is. He’s pretty good looking too.”   “I know, right?” You giggle. “I thought I was the only one who noticed.”   The two of you keep walking, but you don’t realize when Jimin’s steps slow. You don’t come to see the dismayed expression on his face.   It’s the first time in a while that you feel this good.
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violetsystems · 3 years
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#personal
I was invited the other day to join a community as a Creative Advisor from a survey I filled out for Adobe.  I made the choice last November to purchase Creative Cloud for an entire year at a discount.  When I worked at an art school I had all those applications free.  Anybody in the arts community will tell you that software is expensive.  I don’t necessarily feel too connected to the local arts community these days.  But being a Creative Advisor basically means I participate in focus groups and offer my opinions in writing.  It’s a not a bad way to stay active as a creator.  I bought a drone basically so I had 4k footage to mess around with in Premiere.  I am a YouTube Creator by definition.  Yesterday after posting a video of the stream there was another survey in the right hand corner.  I cautiously opened it and read through it.  It was an inclusion survey.  YouTube wanted information to help with their community.  The first question was what race I identify as.  I can’t really argue I’m not white.  The next question was if I identified as part of the LGBTQ community.  I don’t so I answered no.  The third question was what gender I identified as.  I said male because I’m cis.  I completed the survey and went on about my business.  A few minutes later another popup asked me how satisfied I was with the YouTube community after all this.  I answered Very Satisfied and closed the window.  I’m also part of a larger community here in Chicago.  This can be drilled down so far that you can find yourself standing in a lonely circle with a thousand fingers pointed back at you.  My immediate neighbors identify.  I wouldn’t know what specifically or why so I don’t ever really pry.  I live on a pretty diverse property when it comes to tenants.  That expands into a pretty diverse neighborhood with a pretty diverse set of issues when it comes to power sharing.  I live the mad max sort of mentality these days.  Think more Fury Road than Road Warrior.  Where he helps out then silently fades away to focus on his own car wreck of a life.  One winter while shoveling snow I discovered somebody had written something in front of one of my neighbor’s doorstep.  It said “gay people live here.”  I processed it, shrugged and shoveled it away.  I couldn’t tell if my landlord was supposed to discover it, if my neighbors actually wrote it, or if it was somebody being hateful.  I made a judgement call on the account of safety and made a mental note of it then made it disappear.  I cared enough to think about it no matter how much this entire process exhausts me.  People join communities for connection.  People seek out authentic communities for safety, pride and respect.  And people in America should be able to do this freely without being exploited, judged, watched, or compared.  Communities overlap and the geopolitics therein get a little tricky.  When you live in a city with so many different influences, cultures, and hang ups the fog of the ideological war muddles up everyone’s intentions.  I think we retreat to the sanctity of our own communities because they understand the narrative and context best.  I’ve been welcomed into many communities that aren’t my own.  But my circle is pretty small these days.  Mostly because for all the care and attention I apply to the concept of community, I’m often left out to fend for myself here in my bachelor Castle of Doom.  Communities do consolidate power for better or for worse.  Just like rich people hoard money and dodge taxes.  Communities have their own cultural queues and signifiers.  Communities in America have increasingly become more like tribes in the economic desert.  Impenetrable communes at war with myopic definitions and hidden rules that are meant to keep people out for resource sake.  So much so that the Road Warrior doesn’t seem like science fiction to me from personal experience.  
It was the great poet Lord Humungus who may have set it best.  Just walk away.  Safe passage in the wasteland they said.  Be your own boss.  Own your sexuality and answer for your horny crimes.  Shit, I don’t even know where to begin when it comes to where I belong in all of this.  For me things have become equally obfuscated and easy to understand at the same time.  I’m more of an anarchist these days than I would like to admit.  I don’t really want to be on Tucker Carlson’s radar.  Simply because everyone is looking for something to label you as so they can pass an easier judgement on you.  People want you to identify so they can fit you into whatever conversational hole they wish to project at you.  I run into my neighbors all the time.  I treat people like people.  Simply because I’ve been treated enough like shit to know I don’t want anyone else to experience that.  I don’t really want revenge.  I want all this nonsense to stop getting in the way of my pursuit of life, liberty and happiness.  And the constant arguing and debate team every step of the way is troubling.  It’s people with a beaten down sense of self confidence proving themselves in the arena of mob rule.  For all the chest beating online on twitter or facebook people are kind of shook in the streets.  It is a winner take all mentality.  And even the more valid sides of the fight have taken to dirty tactics leaving some of us in the middle of an absolute shit show.  Par for the course if you ask me.  There are plenty of opportunities to be the hero these days.  Not many to be acknowledged as one.  You can be you and still support people that think differently.  I had a dream about guns last night.  I don’t own a gun.  That’s not the right choice for a person like me.  It doesn’t mean I can make a sweeping generalization for the rest of America.  Neither do I actually care to.  I’m cis.  I don’t spend my time psychoanalyzing or judging gender or sexuality other than my own biases towards it.  This is to treat people better and learn respectful communication.  Communication is a two way street.  And some communication is blocked, obfuscated or hidden for it’s own protection.  It can also be self serving.  Some of my closest friends are behind infinite onion layers of identities.  Layers of firewalls that I pirouette through like a whirling dervish just to show I still care deeply.  We take the time to show love.  We take the time to understand the obstacles.  And we have patience to understand that we have to sacrifice things sometimes for the sake of change.  Make no mistake the way I see things on my own is fucked.  I am part of a community here on Tumblr.  A much wider community.  There are times when I don’t fit in.  When it’s not about me or you or whoever behind the screen.  It’s what we connect to and how we learn to respect each other as human beings first.  Not as names.  Or fame.  Who we really are behind all of this doesn’t really matter as much as the content and ideas we share.  Community has it’s own memory and it’s own duty to hold things sacred.  Some larger communities do a totally shitty job of understanding the needs of their ideological neighbors.  And passion, pride, and lack of patience can burn bridges more quickly than building them.  There are times when you realize you are part of a community that doesn’t honor your identity at the core.  Sometimes it’s worse.  You find you aren’t welcome in a community for whatever reason.  If you are an abuser this is a safety issue and not really up for argument or discussion.  But sometimes its far less deserving.  And it’s a game of musical chairs to understand where you fit in and where you aren’t welcome.  For me I’m part Swedish and also a minimalist in nature.  Just look at Ikea and my habit of rearranging furniture.  I grew more inward this year in terms of who I trust.  Now it’s just me and a small percentage of screen names that might be owned by the same person or people.  I identify them as my closest friends.  
The thing about community I’ve learned over the years is that it can always be infiltrated.  Trust can always be broken.  We find we don’t belong to the bigger picture because motives are out of place.  We long to just be normal and accepted for that.  It’s exhausting to have to identify every time you walk out the door.  I identify as human.  Mostly I identify as Tim.  Freedom in America is best summed up by a quote by my favorite person in the world.  She’s from China.  She said once she loved New York because it was the only place where she felt free to cry in public without anybody prying into why.  I’m paraphrasing.  But that shit has stuck with me like a knife for years.  That isn’t what America is about right now.  It’s almost like it’s looking for victims.  Looking for signs of weakness to trick into a confidence game.  It’s a setup on every corner.  A prank waiting to happen.  A constant obstacle to your main quest.  And this isn’t what America is about.  At least not the way I live it.  I don’t think I solve the situation with more policing.  I don’t think I solve it by doing anything other than continuing to live free. The challenge here in America is constantly evolving as it is around the world.  America’s idea of free isn’t always well thought out.  It’s riddled with paradoxes.  And yet this is all I really have.  I’ve seen enough people stalking me in the streets with shirts emblazoned with messages.  Freedom isn’t free.  Penetrate the world.  Blue lives matter.  Make seven up yours.  I’ve made statements too and found myself more and more alone.  And then I’ve started to realize geographically what’s worth fighting for.  I’m tied to an address.  That’s the address where the government sends my ballots and rejects my state taxes at.  That’s the address where the utilities are in my name and I pay my rent on time.  Sometimes even a month ahead.  I’m fiscally responsible for once in my life.  I’ve conquered years of societal glue that held me to mediocre and half assed standards.  I’m a diamond in the rough except I’m not really all the rough.  I’ve stood up for people who aren’t like me so much that I feel more isolated and weird every day.  And I learn that sometimes it’s better to shy away from places where you aren’t welcome than to make a scene.  I am stuck in my little hole here.  If the answer were getting out there and networking, I’d ask people to look at my passport.  It’s not good enough for the state to acknowledge as proof of my identity.  But I spent a lot of money going back and forth to Asia trying to do just that.  And I paid off all that debt awhile ago.  I know the world is bigger than me.  And I believe sometimes people think they’ve travelled the world in their computer.  They’re the authority on everything.  And here is the problem with freedom in America.  The authority isn’t always right.  This is why we seek out communities.  For democracy.  For peer review.  To have our narrative understood and respected.  And we need communities to be more about democracy and less about autocratic reactions to a zero sum game.  I think it’s okay to not be part of something you don’t belong.  And I also think it’s okay to respect people’s wishes to seek out where they do.  But we have to learn to live together in America despite of this.  And well this would require us as Americans to really look the beast in the eye.  And doing that alone is scary.  I should know.  I do it every day.  So much so that I’m literally not fucking around with much of anything other than what’s easy enough to read.  Even when it’s easy to read it doesn’t mean it’s done in earnest.  I can only really worry about the things I hold intimate and secret.  The creative culture I’ve salvaged with my bare hands.  I really don’t care if you don’t get who I am.  But I want you to know I care about the world being free.  At least for the people I care about.  If you ever catch yourself crying in public just remember I’m right there over your shoulder cheering you on.  I’ll fight for your right to cry about it and scare off anybody who interferes.  That’s just who I am and nobody will know or even acknowledge me by name.  Sometimes I do feel like a ghost.  I’m not trying to walk through walls people set up for protection.  But I will break down the barriers people put up to keep us from living together.  <3 Tim
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astroseri · 4 years
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“Harvest” Moon 🌾 in Aries (Full Moon)
on Oct. 1st 2020, 9:05pm UT
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What is a harvest full moon?
The harvest moon is the name given to the full Moon that takes place closest to the autumn equinox.
It is called a harvest moon because the Moon is particularly bright and rises early. In the past, this allowed farmers to extend their working day and work by the light of the extra-bright Moon, gathering crops to prepare for the winter months - hence 'harvest'.
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Numerology of this Full Moon: 6
Takes Place In Aries 🐏
Part 1. What you will manifest during this time...
☉ Sun - In full moon charts, it opposes the moon. It shows the seeds we planted at some point in the past, that are now bearing fruit (indicated by position of moon). The sun is in its own house (5), so rewards and karma from all previous actions now manifest. Leo—the Sun’s sign—being in the fourth house asks if you have been living, speaking and acting out of integrity rather than others’ values. How have you spoken or acted? If it has been out of integrity rather than ego, or fitting in out of fear then you will be particularly blessed during this period. Do you perform or make entertainment? Influencers with personal integrity and unconventional messages will receive increased fame, influence and recognition.
Any acts of service to others will also be rewarded. 5th in virgo. And... Have you been critical of society and others, instead of always blindly following along (virgo)? You will be rewarded for being discerning and living in alignment with your truth.
☽ Moon in Aries - We are reaping physical gains, status and achievement—11th house. Those acting out of integrity shine in the eyes of others now. Achievements will be public and material in nature—significator in 2nd from 11. They will involve individuality and breaking free from structure—saturn in 11th from 11. Major achievement and gains are possible. The results of our previous actions and public expressions will now manifest. There will be acts of individuality and breaking free from the system of accepted reality. Values not ever before publicly expressed will now be expressed. it Will seem offensive and distasteful to some who are stuck in old paradigms, but admirable to others. Nonetheless this full moon will trigger many people’s insecurities, because the moon is conjunct chiron. Ultimately, public expressions of change, innovation and individuality will be therapeutic to others.
This is a good time for creativity and putting into the physical, your dreams and ideals. On the other hand, Anger and frustration are high and if you don’t find an outlet they will escape negatively. Unfortunately, This will be the expression for most people.
Done.
Now... I wrote specific insights into what energies will happen in society if you’d like read on..
Part 2.
—————The State of Society ————
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Ok. Now the State of Society...
♅ Rx in the 12th: A need to break Away - Rebellion and structural disruption will be an unconscious expression of material needs and values. Since uranus is retrograde, a need for rebellion and individuality will be magnified and will be expressed impulsively rather than consciously. These disruptive expressions will be subconsciously motivated, possibly by fear. On the positive spectrum this energy will be used for unconventional creations, individuality and forms of self-expression.
♄ in the 9th: The Nature of our Gains & Achievements - Achievements and gains for those living in integrity will be—9th—large. There will be gains in status and influence. New faces of change will be born (influencers, innovators, advocates). Despite this, traditional structures and reality will remain firm... More firm than ever. Saturn will be stationary and very strong... Though structure stands strong and begins to assert itself more than ever, this transit will make many aware of how reliant we are on structures and belief systems that can ultimately fail us. And that ultimately we become trapped in them when the time comes to rely on ourselves. This period is a (final) warning to break free from structural ordinance and dependence.
♂Rx in the 11th: Inability to Act. Causes Hoarding of Resources - the desire will be to achieve material aspirations and goals, especially independent of the current structure. This will feel restricted if the world seems to stagnate and the economy falters. There may be a sense of inaction or helplessness because we are too dependent on current structures, our economy and governments.
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The manifestation of this blocked desire to break free will be to impulsively hoard material things and resources out of fear. There will be some hoarding of goods and food (Ascendant at 29° Taurus). And a sensed urgency to acquire resources. This will likely be out of fear.
Authorities become very helpful - Since both saturn and capricorn are in the 9th (benefic). The authorities become very auspicious. Government will start relief programs to distribute food, money and resources to individuals in need. There will even be government subsidized food provisions.
These efforts by authority will be very effective at treating the symptoms of broken society. Unfortunately this will not fix the underlying causes of dysfunction and many people will become dependent on the relief; this further limits their self-sufficiency and ability to act autonomously in the future. (Saturn square Mars!!!)
This phenomenon is intentional. This is pretty dark but the motivation behind these “helpful” efforts by authorities will be to exert more control and power over the population. (8th in sagittarius + jupiter in 8th). There are strings attached and insidious motives behind these apparent “reliefs” and “stimulus”. Quality of life does not improve. Later, dependency on relief will happen and authorities exert more control over their dependents (through the form of regulations). Remember these wise words: Nothing comes free.
Asc. @ 29° Taurus: Desperate State of Affairs (Resources and Money) - Major upsets and instability in values and resources are indicated. 29 degree placements indicate urgency, extremities, impending conclusions and culminations of energy, perhaps even an inabilty to have foresight or to settle. Taurus is the sign of money, values and resources. I expect the stock market will peak off around October 1st and suffer large dips and instability. The government will maintain a sense of structure but there will generally be huge falls economically.. This harvest moon’s climate says now is a final time to Harvest any and all forms of gains and resources that you will need for the coming winter.
♀Venus, the Chart Ruler: Our Money, Food Supply and Resources - individuals will accumulate food, wealth, resources and value in the home—venus in the 4th. Also this manifests to putting more focus and value into the family and securing stability rather than increasing the career, reputation and work ambitions which become more of an afterthought. venus is ALSO at the anaretic degree—29° of leo (in addition to being square to the 29° ascendant!!!) There absolutely will be HOARDING, and SHORTAGES. An Extreme cumulation of energy on resources and an inability to settle. Venus In Leo is showing the shortages will be a result of impulsive action, conflict, anger, competition. self-centerdness and perhaps battle. (it is 5th from ARIES). The outcome will be expressed as structural and business shortages. (5th from leo is capricorn). This will only spiral, as venus is trine the retrograde mars which indicates accumulation of resources as well. There is a grand trine between venus, mars and the south node (each of which are indicating a need to secure oneself). I am convinced there will be shortages starting around Oct. 1st. Stock up now.
☊ In gemini + 1st house: The Key to Thriving these Times - North Node is telling us to be self-reliant in our thinking. To be independent thinkers. And to be absolutely discerning especially when it comes to values.. Ask yourself “What matters to me?” It is not a time to look at what everyone else values (or is potentially buying in hoards) because you will only feed into confusion. It is not a time to try to control things and people, or to feel lack. You have to be discerning and analyze what is psychologically driving everyone’s values. It will give you insight into your own subconscious reactions and thus get a grasp on the reality that values are whatever YOU choose.
Collectively, there are indications of confusion around values, and of an inability for people to discern the significances of material things. Perhaps the dollar will lose it strength. Perhaps resources will become more critical than currencies. This will exacerbate desperation, but ultimately it emphasizes a need for spiritual detachment and to become more self-conscious rather than competing like rats. That is the intended lesson and cure.
☊ is traditionally known as Rahu, the “dragon’s head”. People become all-consuming in the area it occupies in their charts. One can never get enough of that particular thing. With it being in the 1st house and close to the 2nd cusp, there will be extreme selfish, indulgent energy in some people... Perhaps to the point of theft and trickery (gemini). People will never feel like they’ve accumulated enough materials in accordance to their self-interest.
Rahu, The “Dragon’s head” is ideally a guide for the soul but must be approached from an awareness of intrinsic wholeness. Then it stops consuming and manifesting negatively. In general, people are not that conscious. so There will be a seemingly all-consuming material lack in the collective and this will manifest very intensely and destructively —> Ketu is near the 8th house ♏️👿🏃🏾
Ironically, it is a good time to give instead of take, especially in one’s community. Exchange is favored. Good karma will come. It is a good time to discuss material values, to create art and music, and even to share resources within one’s community.
Summary 📝
Those who have been living in integrity around others will thrive during this period. They will make gains in influence and status. Speaking unconventional thoughts. New influencers, musicians, creators and advocates will gain popularity and relevance. Food Shortages and Material Turbulence are guaranteed. Government structures step in to provide sustenance, but there are strings attached (Dependency, Control & Submission).
Dependency to fallen structures/governments will be the outcome for those who are not living out of integrity or who haven’t been critical of others and society.
☋ in sagittarius - Time to “Let Go” instead of Seeking More: - Ketu here shows There is a need for spiritual detachment and instead focusing on giving. Ketu is exalted here. It signifies letting go and achieving what some call “moksha”. People born with this aspect usually have achieved some form of spiritual satisfaction and enlightenment in past lives. They no longer “seek” in current lives but rather give, and their focus is on experiencing their immediate surroundings.
It is in the 7th: it is time to focus on oneself rather than the actions of others.
It is time to let go of any “lack” mindset, of external desires and of a need to take things through power struggles. Instead time to create value of your own (creations and planting seeds), and indulge in your own possessions and creations.
Lastly, Ketu is trine to venus, the chart’s ruler... Trine is an auspicious aspect. Spiritually letting go, and focusing on the immediate experience around you (gemini) and your own value, especially your personal integrity and your family will bring fantastic results despite the extreme climate around resources.
Thanks for Reading!
- @astroseri
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witchyaqua · 4 years
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planets in the 2nd house
DOMAIN OF THE 2ND HOUSE
Money (finances, currency, cash)
Property (possessions, valuables, stocks and bonds)
Adding what you “have” to your identity - your toys, your clothes, your pets, your mother, etc.
Ethics and values; what you deem worth having, important, valuable, admirable, or useful
Self-esteem, or whatever gives YOU worth or value
SUN IN THE 2H:You are a very materialistic and money-oriented person. You are likely to accumulate wealth, property, material possessions, and collections, all because of your drive for ownership. Money tends to come and go rather quickly, but you have enough creativity and frugal financial skill to save up for emergencies, bigger purchases, later investments, and your future properties. Saving and spending are who you are; delegating resources is what you are all about!Money equals security in a lot of ways, and you earn it in order to feel safer in life. But while you hoard away money through the security it brings you, and protectively guard it in case anybody were to try and take it, you are also very generous. To those you love, you give endlessly. For your family you may spend on luxury home furnishings, squirrel away money for their university tuition, dress them in high quality clothes, and save all year for Christmas. For your spouse may save for retirement and vacations together, or plan on buying a second income property. 
MOON IN THE 2H:This is a marvellous placement for your Moon. Your Moon seeks security and protection because it is a reactive (as opposed to active) force in your chart. When we are babies it is our mother that first shelters us and provides us with all we need in order for our emotions to grow stable. Your mother’s love protected you, calmed you, and made you feel safe inside this new, uncertain world. As you grew older and became more of an individual (separate from your mom), your external sources of security changed. That feeling of safety and protection that had once solely stemmed from mother was found in the things that you owned.“Sentimental value” is perhaps one of the strongest emotional bonds you can have to anything, be they the values inherited from your family, old friendships, or the trinkets you have had since you were a child. Your feelings are all tousled up with that which you own; your emotional fluctuations are based entirely on their changing condition.The idea of finding comfort in things outside of yourself makes perfect sense. The Moon has no light of its own, only reflecting the light of others. Your emotions are responses to what is going on around you. They reflect, take the form of, and react to the conditioned impulses and desires you have been building since birth. As your moods change based entirely on external factors, the more routine and predictable the environment you are in the more routine and predictable your emotions become. You need a strong, reliable source of income from a career (or industry) you have lots of experience in. You need good food and happy, nostalgic memories of the past. Shelter is obvious, as you need a secure home environment for you to feel that you (and all that you love) are safe inside its walls. And we all need other people with shared moral values to feel safe in expressing ourselves.
MERCURY IN THE 2H:Your mind was made for handling material resources. You have an intelligent understanding of money, property, and possessions and how to manage them wisely. Financially, you do well because you know how to think rationally, organizing your wealth into pools and delegating funds to where they need to go. Alternatively, you are vulnerable to your own carelessness and impracticality, both of which can undermine your efforts. Your mind is quick and alive, but it is too easily bored, and your impatience in saving and spending money can spell disaster at the wrong times. Still, you can use Mercury to your advantage if you learn to move with its energy in the most productive way. Often, you find yourself happier with more than one source of income, pulling money from various different places. It is suggested that you earn from intellectual enterprises, communication, technology or mechanics, as your bank account is most prolific when you use Mercury to make money. These include everything from writing, public speaking, teaching, singing, accounting, and sales to working with your hands. Your 2nd House Mercurial nature means you possess a quick mind for financial opportunities and can manipulate resources to work in your favour; selling and bargaining skills accompany this, furthering your abilities.What you choose to spend your money on is also under the influence of this placement. And with Mercury here, there is no shortage of random possession under your roof. You like to own things that reflect upon the qualities of Mercury: communication, intelligence, practical skills, mental stimulation. Phones, computers, televisions, tablets, video games, internet, and other communication technologies are big in your world. Books and education are a close second, for you have a great appetite for learning materials. Travelling is another expense you’d gladly pay for the opportunity to pick up and leave on some exciting trip somewhere; whether the trip is across the globe or within driving distance doesn’t matter, as long as you are out and about doing something. But, as mentioned before, you must watch that you do not spend money carelessly. Even little impulsive increments can add up. As Robert Kiyosaki once said, “It’s not how much money you make, but how much money you keep, how hard it works for you, and how many generations you keep it for.” 
VENUS IN THE 2H.Your inner femininity (or goddess) adores anything that gives it pleasure, most often placing materialistic endeavours on a pedestal above all other sources of happiness. Venus in the 2nd House means you have highly refined tastes for the finer things in life. You are the kind of person that insists on the real and the expensive, preferring a handful of authentic goods to a lifetime of cheap plastic knock-offs. You buy for value and enjoy every penny spent. Rich foods, stylish clothing, expensive furnishings, pampering vacations, and exquisite properties – these are all lavish items you spoil yourself with. Although you work hard and save up money well (and guard it jealously) you are not afraid to spend it when it is worth the investment. You do not waste money and spend thoughtlessly but you do treat yourself, sometimes spontaneously, when your desires turn into something delicious or beautiful. That is what you care about, and that is where your values lie.Your beliefs center around similar Venusian principles of pleasure, beauty, and harmony. You buy for quality because you care very much about getting the best items for every dollar spent, guaranteeing that they will work and last a lifetime. One may call you materialistic for placing such value on these things, and they may also call you vain or shallow for caring so much about beauty – these are both characteristics of feminine values colouring what you desire for yourself. The heart of this placement lies in coveting the goddess: her allure, her class, her attractive good looks. You believe in what she stands for, and you likewise desire the high-end radiance she emits for yourself. It is a fact that when we desire something enough we have a way of drawing those things to ourselves. And not only do you draw Venusian themes into your life, but you do it in a Venusian way
MARS IN THE 2H:You are always ready to fight for and defend what you believe is right and true. Yet you also force your beliefs, tastes, and values on others and condemn those who do not share your worldview. Your strength in all these things is admirable. But you must not allow yourself to become narrow-minded.There are obviously very good qualities that come with having Mars in the 2nd House. You are gifted with a strong conviction to following what you have always believed in. You are a determined, hard-working, and goal-oriented person who recognizes the need to move slowly and carefully throughout life. You are a loyal and reliable worker who works well independently and never expects anything to be given to you. Your drive and willpower are applied to achieving status and wealth, two things which you value highly and are intent on getting. You desire money, beauty, and expensive possessions because they are sources of strength and symbols of prestige. But while you are exceptional at accumulating various kinds of wealth, you are no stranger to indulgences and it seems you have no issues about spending money carelessly on things for yourself. You work exceptionally hard, earn a lot of money, then spend that money impulsively, and so have to start all over again. But nobody can say you have bad taste.
JUPITER IN THE 2H: To say that you are lucky with money would not be wrong. But to paint an image of funds just falling into your lap unprovoked would discount the efforts you do put in to gain it. You gain money easily because of your talent for finance, and your confidence in your resourcefulness carries you further than you might imagine. Here, in the 2nd house, you are honest in all your dealings and visionary about your potential to earn more. You can achieve the most when you use Jupiter to further your career forward, bringing gifts of generosity, kindness, enthusiasm, humour, and drama to everywhere you derive an income from. You do very well in the art and entertainment industries for these reasons.  People are attracted to your charisma and trust in your abilities. Often you benefit largely from these social contacts, never discounting how important they have been on the road to your success. Other areas where you prove successful include gambling, travelling, and education – three very different fields that each epitomize Jupiter in different ways. To gambling, you bring luck. To travelling, a wandering spirit. To education, an open mind which never closes, that makes you both perpetual student and lasting teacher. In general, you do well in any sort of business, as you have a knack for it.
SATURN IN THE 2H:Saturn always begins with some form of hardship. Your family could have been born poorer than church mice or as wealthy as royalty, but you still felt there was a lack of financial security and that your parents were constantly worried about money. A fear developed then. A fear that all your money, possessions, property, resources, everything you owned and everything that made you feel safe, could be taken away from you at any moment. You have became anxious, overly-cautious, and quite controlling of all that is yours. With money especially, you scrimped and saved and hoarded it away. Like the dragon Smaug, you wrapped yourself around your riches and protected them with your life, fearful of the day when someone might creep in and steal everything away from you. Poverty scares you the most, and you bear great loads of financial stress when your bank account runs low. You feel your best when you have enough money to pay all your bills on time, a roof over your head, possessions kept safe, food on the table, a job to go to, minimal debt, and other conventional signs of a stable life.Wealth also begets status and success, which is another reason you chase after it. The underlying issue of Saturn in the 2nd House is that you doubt your own self-worth if you have nothing to show for it. This can manifest in your chart in one of two ways. In the first, you seek to amass wealth to build up your image as well as for security. Like royalty or celebrity, you seem bigger, more influential, more powerful when you are surrounded by all the luxuries of the world, and this makes you feel better about yourself. It makes you feel valuable. Those who go this way may become materialistic and status-seeking, ambitiously climbing up the social ladders of high society. The other way s the opposite, where you may shun materialism altogether. Belittling the formers who care only about how much money they have and what sorts of things they own, these people take the moral high ground of humility. It is an underlying jealousy or bitterness at not having that causes this side of Saturn to come about, and low self esteem for the former. Neither extremes are particularly healthy, nor are they productive uses of a placement with so much potential.
URANUS IN THE 2H: The way you earn money is likely to be unusual in some way, outside of conventional business economics, as you approach this area of your life with an inventive mind and an intellectual bent. The way you earn your income is different than the way most people do; many artists, writers, sports stars, and entertainers have this placement. (Perhaps it is your attraction to certain areas of work, coupled with your tendency to spend quite heavily, which explains your unreliable income?). You appreciate money for the freedom it gives you, as this is a planet that needs freedom to express itself on a whim. But you do not want to be bound by attachment to material items. In fact you may shun materialism altogether and spend your money on experiences rather than possessions. The things you do own reflect your Uranian inclinations, showing off your weird, different, alternative side. You like things that show off your uniqueness or your individuality, your unusual hobbies and your unconventional interests. You have an eye for value, and when you really want something, can be quite resourceful.
NEPTUNE IN THE 2H:Neptune, being made of spirit, does not understand the workings of the material world. Neptune creates chaos and delusion wherever it is placed in your chart, and in the 2nd House that means your personal finances. She swathes the way you view money, property, resources, values, and possessions in a foggy haze, leading to financial difficulties throughout your lifetime. You have an idealistic image of money and the power it can bring you. Often you fantasize about being wealthy, possessing expensive, big ticket items, and owning high end real estate. You dream up visions that are so out of touch with reality that when you finally do get what you work for, it ends up being a major disappointment. But seeing the material, financial world clearly is not in this placement’s vocabulary. Many unforeseen difficulties have had a negative impact on your bank balance. They seem to descend out of nowhere, making you victim of fraud, poverty, and bad investments. In reality you fall on hard times due to your own confusion, financial negligence, laziness, and impractical decision making. Even when you are buried under a mountain of debt, however, many with this placement are able to keep up the illusion of wealth.What Neptune does give you is a loftier, more spiritual view of the 2nd House. Being separated from the material world, you are gifted with apathy towards money that shallower, more materialistic people lack. Your possessions mean more to you based on their sentimental value, not their commercial value. You collect items which reflect beauty, spirituality, imagination, your hopes and wishes and dreams. You hold onto a vision of what you have, seeing what you own through emotional eyes. Sometimes you feel guilty for the amount that you have compared to everyone else and seek to generously share it through charity towards those you care about. Other times you get frustrated and believe other people’s wealth should be given to you. Furthermore, you indulge in Neptunian escapist routes like entertainment (movies, music, nights out, trips abroad), drugs, alcohol, shopping, and creative projects. This planet sees you bank balance as better than it is one minute, then cries about how little you have, then spends carelessly, then feel elated at the many wonderful things you now own. Money is worshipped by you as the key to everything, the fulfiller of all your fantasies and saviour to your victimhood. Yet you also remark it with casual indifference, reminding yourself than there is more to life than what you have.
PLUTO IN THE 2H: This planet and its lessons seem to counter to the goals of this particular house. Money and things of value are supposed to be saved and accrued gradually, and they are supposed to be a lasting source of security, and they are meant to bring a feeling of reliable safety to a person. Pluto is here to destroy, uproot, and devastate you to teach you lessons in change. The two simply do not work well together. The struggle between two opposing forces mixing inside of you was sparked when you were still a child. In your younger years you were made to feel insecure by others who put you down, bullied you, belittled you, and fought you. In your short life others had stripped you of the value you held as a person and reduced your self-worth down to pennies. Without strong inner resources to fall into when things got tough, you relied on building outside safety nets to make yourself feel safe and big in world where you felt very small. In effect, you regained a sense of worth and a sense of power from the idea of being wealthy. It is very important that you dig into and explore your motivation for your obsession with gaining material things. The origins which, no doubt, will be rooted in fear and unhealthy emotions tied to the past. Both of which will be present well into adulthood.
-all the information I found is from canaryquillastrology.com
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clansayeed · 4 years
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Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 19: No Sympathy for the Bloodwraith
PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature
⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽
⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽
Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.
Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].
Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.
*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!
⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽
Cadence recounts one of the worst events in the Council’s history as the bloodwraith’s motives are brought to light. Taylor’s new empathy turns into both a helpful gift and a terrible burden.
[READ IT ON AO3]
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New Orleans, 1921
“If you think the entire Garden Coven unwilling to march on you without hesitation, then you’re far more a fool than you’ve already proved yourself to be.”
The Nighthunter rounds on him with stake in hand. Even as unofficial allies his intent is clear: I will use this.
But Cadence doesn’t step back because he fears the weapon. He fears the man using it.
Has seen that wild look in his eyes elsewhere — though never in a human. It is the look that watches his every step, that hoards the limp limbs of their meal closer, that seeks only to gorge on thick veins and will not be sated until red ichor spills from their lips they are so full with it.
In a reversal of fortune it is the human who looks at the vampire with the gouging claws of bloodthirst and madness.
Any creature of sound mind would fear Reimonenq now.
“They can’t touch me,” the sneering reply, “those damn Accords keep y’all from actin’ as a faction!”
“Those same Accords demand the same of you!”
“It’s different for me an’ you know it, Smith.”
“No—honestly I don’t. You’re just as much a part of this community as any of us. You’re beholden to the Accords just as we are!” But the thing he’s still struggling to grasp, the thing that leaves him gaping even as Derek Reimonenq resumes shoving his things into a ratty sack, is far worse.
“Even with the legality aside — you just murdered three young women in cold blood.”
If any vestiges of warmth remained in his once-alive body they are dashed in the moment the man’s cruel laughter reaches his ears.
“Trust me when I say there weren’t nothin’ cold about it.”
A blind fury consumes him. Sends him rushing at the man with preternatural speed to pin him to the wall; the same grasp capable of turning concrete to powder wrapped around the mortal’s neck.
“You think this is funny?!”
“What it is, damn bleedin’ hearted fool, is justice!”
Derek shoves him back; only succeeds when the vampire is too stunned to speak or hold his ground. “You storm in here spoutin’ all yer high-horse shit about them Accords but you think I’m the only one what broke ‘em? You think those devil-whisperin’ freaks didn’ bend they’re own rules just the same?
“Those girls were unnatural. Even for they’re kind. I been at this all my life Smith — I know how to suss out the ones who ain’t got no hope a’goin’ anywhere but bad.”
“You killed them before they even had a chance. You’re no seer Reimonenq, you can’t possibly think you’re justified on a hunch!”
Derek’s upper lip curls. Cadence is almost surprised he doesn’t glimpse fangs.
“A Nighthunter’s job ain’t easy an’ it ain’t nice an’ it definitely ain’t simple. I already compromised every-damn-thing I believe in when I joined in on ya damn Council. But Come Hell an’ high waters if I stop makin’ this city safe for me an’ mine.”
Like a creature in her own right there comes a small hollow noise at the door. Low and center — the tap-tapping of child’s knuckles. The men break their brawl to watch — to wait.
The knuckles tap-tap again. Firmer this time.
Derek wars with himself for only a moment — opens the door and smooths the kind eyes of a father over those of the beast before.
Cadence knows it isn’t his spectacles that cause him to see a familiar child; not the honey-eyed daughter of Reimonenq but the wild ginger mane of Meredith LaPointe’s youngest. Her face frozen in terror as it will always be; carved behind his eyelids and in his soul.
Even in a town like New Orleans some hauntings have nothing to do with the supernatural. Some are personal.
The little girl stands with her nightshirt bunched in impossibly tiny fists. Wide eyes shining at the sight of her father before realizing he isn’t alone. When her lower lip begins to wobble the vampire realizes his mistake and averts his unnatural ruby gaze.
“You’re supposed to be in bed baby girl,” croons the same man who had burned three girls mere hours ago.
He picks his daughter up and tucks her in close. Cadence wonders if she can smell burned flesh and hair on his old army coat. “Where’s that momma’a yours…” Doesn’t look back to his guest even as he closes the door behind him, ventures deeper into his slumbering home.
Now alone the towering man begs for an answer only he can give — the same thing he had thought with the sunset a looming enemy at his back on the steps of Reimonenq’s domain.
Why is he here?
He has no stake in the Nighthunter’s life. In fact they’ve run afoul of one another more than most. For a man apparently so dedicated to upholding the tenets of the original Nighthunters he sure found himself in debt to the creatures he should so despise often enough. They’d met that way — another payment to Cadence’s three year debt to Carlo in strongarming the money that was promised.
And fucks sakes… there’s nothing redeemable about a man who would hold his daughter with hands still stained with the soot of a witch pyre.
The Council will come for him. There’s even a likelihood the vampire himself would be one of the men tasked with bringing him for his trial.
Maybe he just has to accept that there isn’t a reason for confronting Reimonenq alone.
Maybe he just wants to understand.
Monster to monster.
“What foul…?” He catches another whiff of burned flesh and a shudder rolls through him. He wonders if it should remind him of the battlefield. Still so strong even with thin walls between them — like Reimonenq hadn’t even left the room.
Curious.
Out of the corner of his eye he sees the lumped and dark shadow of the hunter’s sack. Ready to cut and run even with a family awaiting his return on the city’s outskirts.
Cadence doesn’t have a family — or if he does he doesn’t know where to find them. Are they waiting for him? Are they just as ignorant to the truth?
All his unanswered questions and here the other man is almost eager to abandon it all. Jealousy is an ugly thing.
When he reaches for the bag it’s because he’s angry; because he wants to delay Derek as much as possible. Not just to face the consequences of his actions but so he knows what the fuck he’s leaving behind. Has to dial down his strength lest he send a myriad of Nighthunter’s essentials hurtling through the thin drywall.
Stakes clatter to the floor. A medieval crossbow lands arm-down and snaps the archaic metal off like shattering glass. Bare essentials of fabric tumble out and reveal the prize he had wrapped within with care and greed both; what remaining skin was peeled from muscle tissue and bone from the flames that had consumed them starts to flake off and settle on scuffed wooden floors.
One cooked finger snaps off and rolls under the nearby bed. The rest are curled up and in like spiders after they die of starvation.
He’s caused his fair share of bloodshed but this—
Trophies…
Cadence’s tears gather and the world goes blurry at his eyes. From rage, from disgust, from incredulity…
He rips his glasses off and shatters them in his fist.
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To the Elders of the Garden District Coven, Carlo de la Rosa was at the center of the city’s vampire community. If they weren’t of his blood they owed him in one form of another — Cadence is proof of that.
He was old, powerful, and connected. He had to go.
To the malevolent specter of Derek Reimonenq, Carlo was a threat. Not just as the leader of the vampires of New Orleans but on a personal level as well. In the months following his death Reimonenq’s wife and daughter inherited more than his legacy — they inherited his debts too.
He was as remorseless as he was undead. He had to go.
The Elders witnessed firsthand the rapid rise to power of Denna Ostrowski; a shapeshifter rumored to have had over a hundred forms under her pelt. To the mundane world she was new money investing in the rich history of Louisiana. And money opens many doors — even among the supernatural.
She had her hands steeped in the cauldrons of both worlds. She had to go.
Only Denna came to town long after The Bloody Hand had been dealt with — near forgotten.
That didn’t stop her from learning as much as she could about the history of the Council; from allies to enemies. Learning where they lived, where they died, and where they had hidden every rotten putrid trophy hand.
It was a part of the past best left forgotten yet that didn’t stop Denna from destroying them all the way down to the bone. And for that her days were numbered.
Though they didn’t know it the Elders and their ghoulish pet saw eye-to-eye when it came time to level that gaze on Tonya Reimonenq. They called her Lady Smoke because those who ran afoul of her always disappeared without a trace.
Poof — gone like smoke.
She never asked for her gift; the Reimonenq Curse. But she took it and she used it without shame or guilt. Made a show of keeping her touch under expensive wrappings but everyone knew the truth.
She liked having such power; control over who lived and who died. And despite being of Derek Reimonenq’s decaying flesh and molded blood, Tonya had turned herself into a target — made herself a creature more than she ever was a human being.
“I was the one who brought him in front of the Council,” Cadence says without regret, without remorse; “I kept him from going into hiding. If I hadn’t gone to him that night the Garden Coven may very well have never found him.”
Cal frowns. “I thought you said he couldn’t be accused and punished. Which I still can’t make a lick’a sense of.”
“In the eyes of the Accords both sides were at fault — for different things, but equally guilty of knowing the laws and consciously choosing to break them.”
“What did the Coven do?”
The vampire shifts in discomfort.
“The girls Derek burned weren’t born into the families that made up their ranks at the time. The Elders back then had plans to blood them fully — sort of like an initiation you can’t back out of — but they were brought into the city from outside covens before it was done.”
“To put it plain they brought enemies onto Quarter soil,” explains Katherine with a tired rub of her eye.
Cal throws his glance back to Taylor and Vera and matches their confusion.
“I’m missin’ somethin’. ‘Cause no offense but I can’t see a guy like Elric agreeing to put kids to death over bein’ somewhere they shouldn’t’ve.”
“You’re right — Elric knew the girls were smuggled into town. The whole Council did, actually. Given the circumstances they agreed to turn a blind eye.” When he’s met with a silence that screams for him to keep going Cadence does, though the reluctance is clear on his expression.
“Listen — I never met them personally. I only know what I do from rumor and that’s putting it lightly. But one person heard from another who heard from God-knows-who-else that the girls all shared the same power—could do the same thing in the craft, you know?
“It was said they could remove free will. I don’t know how, or if it was wild speculation or the truth watered down. Even I laughed when the story reached far down enough to my rung on the ladder. Nothing of the natural world — be it magic or sensation or psychic connection — can truly take away all resistance to command. Even my kind, while connected to our Makers on a deep and intimate level, can resist their influence if we do so with all of our being.
“None of this mattered though. The Coven may have concealed their nature but everyone could put two and two together.”
“No one thought they were gonna try somethin’ shifty?” asks Nik. Cadence shakes his head.
“One of the Elders had a natural gift of his own; he could sever the witch from their ability to practice the craft. It was clear that was their plan — that the city didn’t have to worry. They just couldn’t do so until after being blooded into the Coven.
“I think most of us just felt sorry for them.” Doesn’t stare at the carpet underfoot but through it; both in the room with them and some place he thought he had left far behind. “I did. All around the country young men had been sent off to war and returned home empty husks, if they returned at all. There was a sort of cultural agreement that didn’t need words: children and their innocence was worth protecting.”
Kathy’s hand hovers over his before making a decision, offering contact to ground the man to the present. But the smile he gives her is hollow. The memories still haunt him — maybe they always will.
“Derek Reimonenq didn’t agree,” he continues to everyone’s surprise, “not that anyone expected him to. Neither did the Bayou Alpha but the war didn’t even give her back a body to bury, so she fell in with the rest. Everyone figured he would air his grievances and follow through as he usually did… bottle in hand.
“It’s the only time I can remember that the Council tried to find a flaw in their own laws. They wanted to convict him — everyone was demanding justice. But rather than two trials and needless punishment on the side of the Coven the only solution they could all agree on was a clean slate.”
“Which didn’t sit well with the witches,” Vera rests her hand on her racing heart like that will help — it doesn’t, “so they Cursed him. And all the Reimonenq blood ‘longside.”
Cadence nods tight-lipped; has said more than he thought he would have to and more than he wished to if his tension is anything to go by.
“Makes sense, now.”
Nik’s fingertips are warm on Taylor’s scalp. They card through his hair as if to remind them both they are here; that it’s all come down to this.
“Those Elder bastards were targetin’ power in the city but somehow usin’ Derek’s spirit gave it an agenda. Carlo for the past, Denna for revenge on his stuff — can’t say I blame it for hatin’ Smoke but —”
“And how exactly did I piss off ‘The Bloody Hand?’” Taylor asks in bewilderment. Nothing about the casual way the man shrugs reassures him.
“Dunno — you were convenient?”
“And we’re back to that now.”
“Sometimes a spade is a spade is a spade,” his mouth twists with deep thought, “though now we know why it wasn’t houndin’ on us the second you were outside a ward. They gave it a hit list but it chose the order.”
No one responds — what is there to say? Sure it’s satisfying to finally know, to understand.
But does it change anything?
It has to. Otherwise The Fate wouldn’t have led him on this; the altered path.
“This is good — this is a really good thing.”
The incredulity and judgment that bears down on Katherine isn’t personal — she knows that. More than that she doesn’t care. Not with the wry look she’s sending Ryder’s way. “Damn,” she laughs dryly, “it might actually be the only time in all this weird crap that things might work in our favor.”
“How d’ya mean?”
“You said it yourself; a spade’s a spade. Think about it, Nik — finally this is just a job like any other. Just creatures following their nature.”
A look of understanding comes over his weary features. “So maybe it’s time we follow ours, you mean.”
Like she’s reading his mind Vera speaks up where Taylor still struggles to connect the dots; “For the class, guys?”
Kathy’s smile is a rare thing. Rare and unnerving.
“We do what Nighthunters do best; we hunt.”
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Even with everything he’s seen and endured the sight of rusted cemetery gates still form knots in his belly; dread and memory all tied up with the knowledge that at the end of the day he’s just as vulnerable here and now as he was that first night.
And you know what doesn’t help? Being in the Garden District again; that doesn’t help.
Being so close to their enemies — those literally plotting to kill them with more than one attempt under their witchy robes — that doesn’t help.
But it must be done. “It’s a risk we’ll have to take,” Katherine had said while hoisting a rusted toolbox from its shelf in Cadence’s office, “since it’s proven already it can attack us anywhere — wards or no.”
“There aren’t any protection measures we can take?” Vera had asked; though they were all sure that if there was an answer they would have found it by now.
“Find a god and pray.”
That the cemetery is largely untouched is a miracle. Not for fear of ghosts and the scary stories tour guides like Tilly tell but for the fact that tourists usually just don’t give a damn.
Then again this is the closest cemetery to the Coven. That has something to do with it no doubt.
Cadence leads them through the dark and winding paths — Cal bringing up the rear. “No flashlights,” the vampire had insisted, “the moment we trespass is the moment the mundane authorities become just as much a threat as the witches.”
Lucky they have a vampire and a werewolf on their team then. Precision hunters pretty much known for their ability to see at night.
They keep close-knit ranks but let’s be honest; they’re about as subtle as the Scooby Gang would be in this scenario.
A joke he will not be saying within earshot of Cal if Taylor values his life.
Though the vampire insists—almost too much—that he hasn’t been to the Reimonenq crypt since Derek was put there almost a century ago he sure knows his way easy enough.
“Are you sure you’re okay with us doing this; vandalizing your family crypt?” Taylor asks Vera, because this just feels awkward especially with her here. And if she says stop you better know they will be stopping.
But nope; it’s all good. “I’m only frustrated I can’t get us in myself.”
They come to a stop — abruptly, like jostled dominoes — in front of an old stone grave.
Any other day Taylor would have walked right by it; dismissed it for another piece of city history made illegible from erosion over time. But through the greenish muck and years of wear, maybe because he knows what he’s looking for, it’s there.
REIMONENQ “Mourn not the dead, but those burdened to continue living.”
His heart sinks at the inscription beneath Vera’s family name — chances a glance her way, ready to offer what little comfort he can.
Her eyes scream of hatred but he can feel beneath the surface. All that anger stemming from a place of hurt, of loss; of regret. Hatred at the bones they hope to find within and regret for every life that could have been spared in the aftermath of him.
Cadence motions for Cal to help him strongarm the front slab.
“Wait,” says Vera through the stones in her throat and the tears in her eyes she refuses to shed, “gimme a second.”
Katherine holds her breath — thinks better of pointing out that they may not have a second to spare. They know; Vera knows.
But she also deserves this.
She removes her left glove while approaching the crypt. They step back, give her a wide berth and not just for her sake.
Fingers stretched as far and forward as they’ll go Vera lays her palm on the surface. Pushes with a fruitless effort but it probably isn’t the physical barrier she’s forcing back. At least that’s not what Taylor feels in her soul.
“When I was a lit’le girl Momma told me we didn’ have the luxury of choosin’ whether or not to be killers. That day I vowed to myself to be the first — to keep the Touch from ever takin’ a life so long as I held it.
“I was fifteen when she tricked me into usin’ it on a man — staged it like I was savin’ her life by taking another. And I’ll never forgive her for it.”
Taylor feels his heart begin to crumble, then crash into a deep dark sea in chunks as tears roll down her cheeks.
“But she proved something to me that day —” she continues, “— she proved she was right. That so long as we had the Touch we would be killers whether we wanted to or not. She may have tried to make me a hero but no one who can do what we do could ever be one.
“But here—lookin’ at this grave, knowin’ what I know and all that The Bloody Hand did? I don’t feel guilty anymore. I finally realize that I really never had a choice.
“It was always gonna be in my nature.”
Cal’s knuckles crack hollow in the silent cemetery. Cade averts his ruby eyes, swipes his tongue over the hint of a fang.
If anyone here can understand her, it’s them.
“That’s what makes him so evil,” Vera tugs on her glove with jerking frustration; and not for the first time turns her back on the name REIMONENQ, “he had a choice an’ he chose to kill. And I ain’t gonna forget that — no matter how ‘tortured’ his soul is supposed to be.
“Those Elders ain’t in the right in what they’ve done but he wouldn’t have been their weapon had he not chosen to do great evil first.”
Not a rallying cry or solemn eulogy — but her intent is clear.
No sympathy for the bloodwraith.
No sympathy for Derek Reimonenq.
Ryder insists on proceeding with caution—still a statement Taylor’s trying to wrap his head around to be honest—and earns Katherine’s grumbled agreement that they should at least check for remnants of the Elders’ visit.
Cal spots a couple of markings drawn in chalk by the base that set teeth and fangs on edge but ultimately Kathy concludes they’re nothing more than lay-hexes; the witch equivalent of spitting on someone and cursing them to burn in Hell. A bit ominous but not meant to guard the abandoned tomb.
Which, frankly, leaves Taylor more than a little unsettled.
“If they saw no need to enchant it, does that mean there’s nothing inside we can use?”
Nik shakes his head and steps back, allows the two creatures among them to really give in to that nature of theirs and pry the weathered granite from its seal.
“First thing any hunter does when dealin’ with the hereafter is t’learn about the life of the haunting dead. We got the life story and we got how he died —”
“Step two is consecrate whatever bones can be found.” Katherine finishes.
A groan of resistance cuts off with a loud THUD, the noise bouncing from crypt to crypt definitely more than loud enough to awaken the dead. Nice timing to start regretting not bringing Ivy along.
Cade props the front plate on the side of the structure, waves his hand at the irritating dust and sand set off from their force.
It must be nice not to have to breathe, Taylor would say — if he wasn’t hacking his lungs out and praying there isn’t any powdered body on his tongue.
When it settles and they can properly peer inside — the good news is that aren’t any corpses that might make him lose his nerve. One more fainting spell and Taylor might just have to live in shame in the backwoods of the Bayou.
The bad news, though, is also that there aren’t any corpses; rather a large black hole stretching into a void. Darker than the night around them, practically made of nothing.
The vampire sighs and pushes up his glasses. “It’s a small stairwell,” then looking back to Vera, “I know you aren’t to blame in the least but… there’s a reason no one has a basement in Louisiana.” Judging by the look she throws his way it’s better that she takes the high road and doesn’t comment.
“I can’t smell any water rot,” Cal sniffs the air again and the face he makes might as well curl the ends of his hair, “but there’s definitely dead things below.”
“Wow, dead things in a crypt, who would’a guessed?”
“Hey Ryder?”
“Yeah Kujo?”
“Shut the fuck up.”
There’s only enough space for them to go one at a time; and even that is being generous. Taylor can’t help but try to imagine the dignified Elder Daniels in her power-suit crawling into this muck — or Elder Vion hobbling through like a bag of bones.
Kathy volunteers Cadence to go first — an act the vampire looks like he objects to strongly. “Tall people aren’t really made for small —”
But it isn’t his height the huntress is concerned over; a revelation spurned by how she shoves him through the passage—crawlspace, really—and holds her breath as if waiting for something to happen.
Nothing does. “The inside isn’t bespelled. You can come out now if you want.”
If Cade could turn his head he would no doubt be glaring wildly. “Why bother, I’m already inside!” He seethes but takes cautious steps into the tomb, then into the earth.
Vera goes next, and of her own volition.
“Anyone else worried about the amount of oxygen down there?” And it’s such a clear opening for Nik to take a shot at the werewolf but Cal does have a point — while also looking a little green in the face.
So he and Katherine stay up top to guard the rather obvious and gaping hole in what should be a sealed grave. And for the sake of conserving breathing room, can’t forget that.
Nik’s hand is warm, solid as it coaxes him at his lower back. Only a few steps in he feels the drop of the descent. Waits until what little light from outside is obscured by the bodyguard at his back before he begins the journey down.
Down into the not-so-final not-quite-at-rest place of Derek Reimonenq.
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Cal was right; there is a body down here.
But—and he’s just spitballing here really—he’s like… a little pretty-damn-sure it isn’t the guy who’s been dead for 98 years.
Ninety five, ninety four percent certain.
As he finishes igniting the last of the half-burned candle circle Cadence pockets his lighter and stands — doesn’t even have to hunch over. It had felt like they were walking for an hour in the pitch black but maybe he wasn’t that far off.
It’s not a tomb like anyone buried would have a tomb; more a room made sturdy with brick and mortar to do one purpose — and not even for forever. The candles have to be a new fixture courtesy of the Coven Elders and whatever hellish ritual they performed. Even the ground beneath them still holds traces of their visit; looks like Elder Daniels got her heel stuck in some as-yet unpacked dirt.
Derek Reimonenq’s body is probably supposed to be on the waist-height stone slab in the middle. Only it isn’t.
But someone’s is.
Ryder’s hand ghosts over yellow chalk marks on the walls. He pulls back a fingertip of the powder residue and gives it a little sniff; instantly regrets it with a recoil.
“Sulfur,” and he smears it back on the brick feeling desperately unclean.
Cadence joins Vera in looking up to where something large catches the reflection of the flames. He’s just tall enough to reach and brush the surface with a touch. “Looks like a quartz geode… I think I’ve read somewhere that halite can be cast to ward away weathering.”
“Explains why this place wasn’t swallowed up in Katrina,” agrees Nik.
There’s a long moment of silence before Taylor just can’t take it anymore.
“Is no one else gonna mention the dead corpse?”
Cadence snorts. “As opposed to the living one?”
Not what he meant.
But as the rest of the room’s oddities had been deduced the only logical progression was to the young woman laid to rest in a grave that isn’t hers. Maybe wasn’t supposed to be.
That she hasn’t shown any signs of decay isn’t even the strangest thing. No, that would be the pile of bleached-white bones serving as her funeral bed. Definitely more than what one human body should be made up of — but who says it’s human?
The almost medical distance with which Nik studies the long gash across her throat—not scabbed over but not bleeding, either, simply open—has Taylor looking away in discomfort.
While Vera may not have been initially as shocked as he, though, she keeps her distance beside him. “She’s so young…”
“Eighteen, maybe a tad less,” Cadence shrugs off the way they stare at him, “I tried out medicine a ways back, I think I can date a body.”
“Then how long has she been dead?”
“That’s the misleading part — but I think we have the halite ward to thank for that. Context included—I’d say she died the same night as Carlo de la Rosa.”
Vera sucks in a breath. “It killed her, too?”
“No, she doesn’t look like the other bodies.” Nik grunts and stands, wipes dirt from his palms and grabs one of the bones from under the girl’s knee to study it closely. “Conjuring the wraith — pulling Reimonenq’s spirit from the Veil, that’s some heavy necromancy, the kind you have to have in your blood. It could be one of the Elders but I’m gonna go out on a limb and say she’s our born Necromancer.”
Why is it that with everything he’s seen Taylor still has a hard time looking into her face, soft and so very still, and imagining her bringing that much evil into the world?
Ryder uses the bone to drag a wide circle around the dais in the dirt; follows the path just inside the candles and forces the other three back against the walls. “The Elders stood in a triangle — see the concentration of steps — and she did the summoning over the altar. When they were done… she wasn’t of any use to them and and had to go.”
“But she was one of their own,” Taylor protests, “they keep talking about how they’re trying to protect their Coven — she had to have been one of them right?”
It’s a heavy thought. Makes the air in the room feel a little thinner. Cal was right there isn’t enough for them down here.
“Come Hell and High Waters,” says Cade; and he probably means well but those words make him feel sick to his stomach now — some of that ends justifying the means bullshit.
“A sacrifice of one for the survival of the many. I wonder if they told her… that what she was doing was the right thing.”
“The right — they murdered her. There’s no way that’s right.”
“You’re questioning their morality now?”
Taylor falters. He has a point.
There’s just so much grief building up inside his chest he feels like his lungs might burst out of him. A terrible loss; losing himself, losing faith in something, losing trust and truth and…
And where the hell is this coming from?
I can’t breathe. Clutching his hand to his chest, heart seconds away from giving out, that familiar burn of breathing in too hard—too much. “I can’t breathe.”
Before he can collapse Vera helps ease him down to his knees, Nik suddenly at his side hands hovering — unsure of what to do, how to help, but filled with the desperate need to do something because feeling useless is a thundercloud gathering overhead.
“Rook—Rook breathe. I — what’s wrong? Can you talk? Talk to me Taylor, please —”
“Give him some space, Ryder.”
“Do you not see him having a panic attack?”
He gathers enough energy to rasp out only once; “Hey—huff—Nik—huff—backthehelloff!”
And because he can’t say it again he just waves Vera away with heavy slaps of his hands. He doesn’t mean to hurt her. Only to get his point across.
The breathing room they give helps a little. Not enough. Doesn’t stop the feelings he’s feeling or the confusion about those feelings.
They wait in silence while his panic subsides. Maybe it wouldn’t take so long if he understood what had caused it; but he’s met with nothing but patience and a whole lot of concern on Nik’s end.
When Taylor reaches out with a shaky hand it’s immediately grabbed; his entire being tethered to that one act. Nik squeezes first, he squeezes back.
His gaze drifts over the leather-clad shoulder to the body on the stone slab and… and he understands.
“I’m feeling her.” The aching grief twisting in his gut like a rusty knife, the purposelessness, the betrayal. “It—she—is everywhere in here. She’s suffocating.”
“She’s dead, Rook.”
“I mean her emotions—her soul. She wants to be known. She wants to be grieved.”
“So grieve her,” Cadence says, “however you can, you must. If you’re feeling that strong of an empathic connection there must be a reason why. It could tell us something we don’t know—something crucial.”
Taylor hopes to see some sort of confident support when he looks to Nik for help — but the worry is staggering. That makes it better, somehow; genuine.
“You don’t have to do anythin’ you don’t want,” his voice is quiet; hiding the scratch of emotion in his throat where his Adam’s apple bobs.
If only it were that simple.
On shaky legs he stands, makes his way to the altar where Cadence gives him a wide berth and waves for the others to do the same. Nik looks ready to stand by his side no matter what happens. He will, too. But he shakes his head, whispers “it’s okay,” and lets their touch linger until he’s too far to reach.
There’s no manual on this kinda crap — hopefully he doesn’t need one. He doesn’t think he does.
No… he doesn’t feel like he does. Which is apparently different now; a thing to worry about later.
Taylor inhales and brushes a trembling touch along the soft curve of her copper cheek.
“You swore a sacred oath to your Coven in blood, dear girl.”
Elder Vion’s voice rasps in his ear. Makes Taylor want to recoil out of a bygone terror. He’s half a step back when he remembers Nik is there and the Elder is not. And stands still.
“No one else would have you Cassiopeia. We took you in, gave you our protection.”
“We gave you a family — a home.”
Then an unfamiliar voice among them; young and trusting and tired—so very tired, dragged out of her bed in the middle of the night.
“Of course, Elder Millet, a-and I’m grateful! Please, please…”
“All of these things without expectation of repayment. Because our kind must stand together — must straddle the worlds of both dark and light and know balance in them.”
“You have been cursed, darling girl. But today we will turn that curse into a blessing.”
“But you made me promise —”
Then the feeling changes — grows old and damp and determined to do good by those who took care of her, by those who loved her.
The bones of a persecuted witch. Of three. The last three to fall victim to The Bloody Hand and the ones to call him forth from the hereafter.
They bind him in torment, in hellfire unseen.
The sight of them, knowledge that she could be one of them, makes her skin crawl.
Elder Daniels watches ever-present at her back as Elder Vion finishes the rite of conjuring; sprinkles the last of the dry spell over the bones. The mandrake powder tickles her nose. She holds her breath and prays not to sneeze.
The ochre within stains the bones her favorite shade of orange; the burned hue of a Bayou sunset. But combined with the flakes of iridescent mica that catch in the candlelight — the spell takes hold of the bones and claims them for their use. Leaves them a bright, almost bleached white as the powders are absorbed into the long-gone marrow.
Cassiopeia looks to her left for Elder Millet’s familiar motherly smile. It gives her calm and hope — reminds her of all the other fostered witches they are acting in faith for tonight.
This is what she was born for. This is why she was abandoned; because the Garden Coven was meant to find her.
She’s meant to do this; use her curse. This is how she’s going to repay them for all they’ve done for her.
“Cassiopeia, sweetheart,” Elder Millet doesn’t move—can’t move—from her spot in the triquetra; coaxes her forward still with a nod of her chin, “whenever you’re ready.”
A hasty nod; then she takes one final moment to steel herself and her nerves.
She’s meant for this.
The sulfur powder itches at her palms but Cassie resists the urge to scratch. Spreads her fingers wide and hears a pop in her thumbs as she reaches over and above the ritual bones.
On the other side of the altar comes the thud. thud. thud of Elder Vion’s walking staff on the ground a this feet. The candle flames around them flicker — almost to death.
Then comes the slow and throated chanting of Vion’s native tongue. The flames begin to grow.
The young witch buries that last shred of doubt way deep inside and trusts her protectors.
“Claw and blood, claw and bone. Bloodied flesh, endless stone…”
A whispered wind overcomes them. Fills the room warm near her toes and chilly to the touch.
Around the crypt it circles round and round — and grows.
“Soar with the zephyr, shriek with the crow. Life renewed I now bestow…”
She can’t quite tell if the shaking in her hands is the growing itch, her nerves, or the power of the spell. Nothing worth the reason to stop.
“My darkest will with blackened vein Unto this rotted soul I chain.”
“Again!” Elder Daniels commands. A tone that takes none but obedience.
“Claw and blood, claw and bone. Bloodied flesh, endless stone. Soar with the zephyr, shriek with the crow. Life renewed I now bestow. My darkest will with blackened vein Unto this rotted soul I chain!”
“Again!”
“I—I’m trying!”
“Try harder! Millet!”
“Cassiopeia you can’t break the chant. You can do it, I know you can!”
The whirlwind threatens to catch her voice and steal it from her lungs. Rattles the bones that stay together because they cannot imagine being apart — even in death. Hands stained with the sulfur’s ire and Cassie squeezes her eyes shut to keep it from getting in her eyes.
“Claw and blood! Claw and bone! Bloodied flesh! Endless stone!”
“It’s working! Jean—the knife!”
“You’re doing so good Cassie—we’re almost there!”
“My darkest will with blackened vein! Unto this rotted soul I chain!”
Taylor chokes on his own air; can feel the icy bite of the blade dragged across his throat. Sharp—so sharp it’s barely a pinprick but the wound left in its wake spills warm and wet down his front into his clothes soaking the ground taken in by the dirt and given a home here, below, in this awful place.
Ichor of the innocent to bind and control.
Before he can fall backwards Nik is there; familiar and solid and so so steady against the violent shaking that overcomes him.
He can still feel her— forces everything inside him to will himself not to see what happened next. Knows what was born from her spell, her devotion to the Elders, and her sacrifice.
Cassiopeia.
“She trusted them,” the words hang thick and dry on Taylor’s tongue, “she trusted them and they told her she was doing something good… she felt like she owed them.”
“And repaid that debt with her life…” Vera looks away; suddenly can’t stand to look at her.
Nik helps him back on his feet, brushes a hand through his hair and he leans into the warmth of it. Feels so cold now that the hot sting of Cassiopeia’s anguish is gone from him. Pulled out as if by a rusted hook embedded in his gut.
“Was it Reimonenq that did this to her?” asks Cade, who drags his finger along the curling edges of her wound.
“No, no… Elder Daniels, I think, was the one who sacrificed her.”
Nik frowns. “Why would you sacrifice the one doin’ the damn ritual?”
“The power in a ritual is beheld by the caster, obviously. With her death the entire thing should have been rendered null. But we all know that not to be the case.”
A strange look comes over the vampire’s expression for a moment; lips pursed thinly. He doesn’t look up from the body as he waves towards Vera. “Can you come here a moment? Take your glove off.”
“What? No!”
“Relax, you won’t be Touching me. I need you to Touch the witch’s hand.”
She looks between them all, Cassie’s body included, as if hoping one of them will speak up. “I won’t be Touchin’ anyone because I won’t do it. It’s too risky, especially here all… all cramped.”
“Please.”
Vera pleads at him silently. Taylor can feel her panic icy and crisp at the back of his throat. So he asks; “What do you think will happen?”
“If I’m correct,” whether he steps away from the altar and simply gestures, giving Vera space, is for her sake or his own is a mystery, “then nothing will happen at all.”
That it’s a risk he’s willing to take on behalf of Vera—that he isn’t the one doing the Touching and is all the more insistent anyway—is worrisome. But he’s their friend; they’re all in this together.
That—and the fact that if Katherine were down here she’d already be tugging Vera and her cursed hand forward without hesitation.
Curiosity, survival; whichever wins out it doesn’t matter. Not that it keeps the unfortunate inheritor of her family name from doing so slowly. As if trying to talk herself out of agreeing up until the last second.
“Which hand?”
“Either one will do,” then when her fingertips are a hair’s breadth away— “I seem to recall Derek wasn’t picky.”
Taylor wonders—quietly, in his head, and very much to himself—when the last time Vera actually touched another human was. Was there some sort of coming-of-age trigger for the curse? Or could she have been putting all the other toddlers on the playground at risk should she have decided to pull off her gloves and play tag?
Too long ago, the obvious answer. Obvious when Vera covers Cassiopeia’s hand first in fingertips — then her entire palm.
They wait. Nothing happens.
She shakes off her wrist—like this is something she’s at fault for—and tries again. Pushes this time enough to jostle the poor young sacrifice.
Again, nothing.
There’s a collective sigh of relief. All eyes on Cadence for answers, explanations, anything?
Nope. He just nods, as distantly academic as ever.
“So what does this mean?” Nik finally asks.
The last time he started rolling up his sleeves, Taylor witnessed Cadence’s transformation into some kind of merciless brute; a monster. Is it any wonder the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when he sees it again?
“It means I’m going to need something that can cut through bone.”
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mizutina · 4 years
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As someone who has been collecting manga since their early teens, many discussions never really reached my ears until I joined the community itself in the last few years. By many years, I mean late 2003/early 2004, I may have had a few times where I've stopped due to severe depressive episodes and financial strife due to being a young teen with no funds. So I know what it is like to long for manga but not being able to afford it brand new and having to stoop to scans and secondhands or borrowing off friends who can afford just a bit more.
Through the years, I accepted what the companies gave but after a while, you know what you want from what you buy, so I stopped being silent. What came from it, was something one could align with the sense of regret. A few years back I've even stopped reading scans unless it's to see if it's a series I really want and read no further than 3 chapters to decide. Any that I do want either goes on a list or enter the cart until payday. Sometimes, some even get bought in a heartbeat but again, it took me years to get to this stage where I can do that, have space for my series and even gain the confidence to share what I love but even then, some people don't like that and that's fine, it's their choice.
Don't get me wrong, a side doesn't regret making the amazing friends I now have but it regrets being so involved to the extent that I am classed as a villainess for asking for prints, since it's considered cancelling a company saying that I would rather have a printed copy over bits of data, especially for the insane prices they ask for and the lack of reassurance that it is as eternally as my copies seem to be, since if they take the digital away if the server or company goes bust.
I am the bad one for being apart of a chat group with people who love the things I do and have the hide to comment about things that make us unhappy, especially about companies and their lack of variety, especially for shojo. We also don't favour digital, which is our choice since it's our money we are spending. It is why I now keep comments sweet and simple when "nagging" for titles I'd love to see in print and not shit all over series even if it is pandering to lolicon fans, which is a sin to point out in the animanga community cause "it's a cartoon, it won't hurt anyone" or "age is just a number", which is a very telling sign about what kinds of people they are.
But that's a community, not everyone will get along nor share opinions that is on par to your own. Unless you have this obscene view of yourself being some sort of manga master which allows you to shit on others, insult them and basically shoving their opinion as facts, this is where the first two parts of my title comes in, the final part being the first thing I've talked about heh. Then again, these same people believe they are some sort of knowledge head or insider into these companies when, at best, they are hardcore fans that believe anything someone actually in the company says, even if the figures are cherry picked to all hell. I mean, come on guys, just cause you are given free copies doesn't make you any more special. You just supporting the company a bit less in order to promote in hopes that enough people buy to cover the fact the company sent out possibly 20 copies to other people like you and chip in for you getting one free instead of doing the right thing by BUYING THEIR OWN COPY TO SUPPORT THE INDUSTRY THEY ARE SO IN LOVE WITH, but oh well, they are above that apparently, they can do and say as they wish.
Like one says, do as I say not as I do.
So a few weeks ago, some dumbarses believe that secondhand buying and selling of a legally bought product is piracy. Anyone with half a brain and a search engine can prove otherwise. The other reason they claim is that it doesn't give back to the creators and company. Yes, that is correct but not everyone can buy new, not everyone has access to new series or even stores that stock series. Also, some companies have deemed some series either out of print (OOP) or the company is now defunct.
In that case, secondhand is the only option. Unlike some people, I'll admit to buying secondhand, my reasoning's are simple. I can't get some series due to OOP, cheaper as a bundle and, most importantly to me anyway, I rather they sell it to me than throw it away, it's better for the environment that way.
Sure, who knows what they will do with my cash but that's not my problem. I bought a manga from them that they legally bought. Just like when someone borrows from the library, they bought it and lend it to people, in some cases, depends on how many people borrow it, they give funds towards procuring more manga, which means the industry is still supported.
When some people start buying mangas, they usually start secondhand, find the series for them and then usually buy new ones, so in the end, they end up becoming a new consumer for the industry. For example, when I sell some mangas, I end up buying new ones cause I like to keep up with my pre-orders, I like being up to date and I love buying new series that fascinate me, I no longer buy for the sake of buying.
Then we have the selling aspect, since buying is piracy, so would selling right? apparently if the dumbarses do it themselves, it's fine, you just happen to be the bad guy buying from them as they possibly spend the buyers money on new mangas while pointing fingers and blaming others for the "piracy" that they basically contributed in.
Fun fact: don't go spouting off about buying new manga and saying buying second-hand is piracy when you both buy and sell mangas secondhand, you look foolish and defeats the purpose of the whole argument. Also, buy manga secondhand if the creator did a crime is okay but when you ask how bad the crime must be in order for it to be allowed, reflect by being a douche, totally helps the argument by reminding people how incredibly stupid your opinion really is.
My opinion? if you don't like what the creator did and don't want to support them, buy secondhand or don't bother with the series. Maybe buy the series, who knows, it's up to you. I'd support purely on the fact that other people put in their time and hard work into it and they deserve to have that acknowledgment, the scummy person can go eat a cold one for all I care, I don't think others should suffer for one criminal. Also, if they did pay for the crime, then power to them, as long as they learned from it, that deserves some respect.
Moral of the story; Secondhand is a very grey area, many start there and you should be praising them for buying legal copies, it will help them feel accepted and eventually buy more from their local stores and online. Bullying them for buying secondhand only makes them leave and not support the industry. Also, just don't be a gate-keeping dick. Manga is meant to be fun, being in a community is meant to be fun. Be fun with new collectors, help raise them up.
Now, recently, I saw another dumbarse mention Manga Hoarding or Manga Collecting cause apparently making videos showing hauls may be toxic and a form of hoarding.
Fun fact: hoarding and collecting are the two sides of the same coin. It's all about perspective.
One could say my large collection is hoarding. I would say I'm a collector and I love showing, sharing my collection with people in hopes that they may one day buy the series that I mention and love them as much as I do.
Also, this is also a money issue for some people, having a lot means having a lot of money. 1. Who cares about that, it's not your money they are spending. It's theirs. 2. If we use my hauls as an example, mine are large due to two reasons: I pre-order new series and bundle buy older series secondhand at a bargain price. It's a way to both show interest to companies when pre-ordering and it helps someone get rid of something you want, also to explore things you probably wouldn't think of buying. 3. What's it to anyone when it comes to how much someone has? It's got nothing, unless they are putting their own cash into that person, otherwise sit down and shut the hell up.
IMO, manga hauls are as toxic as someone perceives it to be. Me, like many others, enjoy seeing what others have and makes you think about what they have that you may end up wanting. This is where you ask the person about the series and, tied with piracy topic, you may end up buying the series which helps support the industry. Also, some people collect vast amount of mangas cause they love it, it helps them and should not be shamed for what they love. If you shame others, then you're a dick.
Which, like I said earlier or if I didn't say it clearly, these dumbarses who believe they are elitist, wants people to support the industry that they love so much but sometimes refuse to do themselves. Like mate, you say one thing but shit on people doing their best to support the industry their own way. You can't have the cake and eat it too, stop doing shit like this, keep a solid opinion and don't do shit that points out what a giant hypocrite you are.
But why use logic, that be too hard, right? Well, to me, it seems like people want drama, a reason to ostracise people from their Utopian community. It's quite unfair on people, telling them how to be a collector when it just feels like foolish projections.
Sure, I'm projecting a bit here, feeling their opinions of stupid people when I feel like it's more about how foolish and childish it all seems, how it feels like they just don't think further than "people should be like me and if they ain't, they are the toxic part of the community" which is not a healthy view to have.
Wooow, indeed I have written quite a bit about these topics which are so dear to me, especially as someone who has been supporting silently for years until recently. All the topics I have spoken about is basically something that can't be seen as black or white like the elitist pushes so hard since it's all grey area and to do with perspective.
I shall give it a rest now and read some manga, since that's what someone with a healthy habit does when they are taking a break. Heh.
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popculty · 4 years
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Surviving the Coronapocalypse: A Masterpost
Living in the current coronavirus capital of the U.S., I’ve been thinking a lot about how woefully unprepared my city was, and how I can help other people who will likely be in the situation we’ve been in within the next few weeks or months. There have been a LOT of posts - from memes to crap advice to solid advice to a misspelled hashtag that somehow blew up without anyone noticing. It’s been all over the place and kind of overwhelming, honestly. So instead of reblogging a million individual posts, I wanted to consolidate some of the most useful information/resources I’ve come across into one handy, update-able reference post. And because this a pop culture blog, there’s gonna be plenty of that sprinkled in. This isn’t going to be an exhaustive list, by any means - that would be impossible, considering how many angles there are to this thing and how quickly it’s evolving. But feel free to use this as a starter, and add to it as you come across other resources worth sharing.
First, protect your health:
1. I can’t believe in the year 2020, 150 years after germs were discovered, that we have to even say this, but: Wash your hands, people. This seems obvious, and we hear it constantly, and yet I keep seeing people use hand sanitizer like it’s the same as hand-washing. Not-so-fun fact: IT ISN’T. Not even close (so double fuck this guy!). First of all, it’s only effective against some types of germs. Secondly, it does NOT kill or remove those germs, it just temporarily neutralizes them, allowing them to resurface later. Hand sanitizer should only be used when hand-washing is not an option. It’s better than nothing, but is not a long-term habit that will save you. If you are going to use hand sanitizer, it needs to contain at least 60% alcohol to be effective. Alcohol, however, dries the fuck out of your hands, and germs love dry skin because they can hide in the cracks. So it’s important to moisturize afterward. But I’ll say it louder for the people in the back (esp. men who still haven’t figured out how bathroom hygiene works and then wonder why they’re dying at much higher rates from this): JUST 👏 WASH 👏 YOUR 👏 DAMN 👏 HANDS! 👏 Scrub for 20-30 seconds, like Kristen Bell told you. There are a million memes for this. Find one that speaks to you, or make your own, and use it.
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2. “Social distancing” - By now we’ve all heard of this, and it’s a good thing for everyone to start doing right about now, regardless of whether or not you are feeling symptoms, because as Idris Elba just reminded us (bless), many people do not show symptoms, for weeks or even ever. So: try to stay six feet away from other people as much as possible. If you can’t avoid getting close to people, just make it quick. The latest info is that it’s not airborne (thank god), but transmitted via droplets (i.e. from coughing), so it really doesn’t matter whether you’re inside or outdoors.
3. And now a word from my infectious disease specialist mom who is working on the front-lines of this: 📣  If you have symptoms (fever, cough, shortness of breath), stay home and take care of yourself like you would if you had the flu. Do not go out in public unless you absolutely have to, (i.e. you are literally dying and require medical attention) and if you do, WEAR A SURGICAL MASK. IF YOU ARE NOT EXPERIENCING SYMPTOMS, YOU DO NOT NEED TO WEAR A MASK – THEY SHOULD ONLY BE WORN BY PEOPLE WHO ARE SICK/COUGHING (to stop those droplets), AND BY HEALTH CARE WORKERS. DO NOT HOARD MASKS FOR PERSONAL USE - THEY ARE ESSENTIALLY USELESS TO YOU AND IT DIVERTS THEM FROM THE DOCTORS AND NURSES WHO ACTUALLY NEED THEM. 📣 Thank you.
4. If you can stay home, stay home. Simple as that. Sure, flights are cheap and we all love a deal but at what cost, Becky?? Just because you can fly (you’re young! you’re healthy! you’re feeling lucky! you *hair flip* just don’t give a fuck!), doesn’t mean you can’t show some goddamn personal restraint and concern for your fellow (elderly, at-risk) human beings. If you won’t listen to me, listen to Wonder Woman. Participate in the #stayhomechallenge and #dontbeaspreader.
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5. Inform yourself. The news is doing a really good job of sowing general panic and not much else. And obviously, the situation is literally changing everyday, but here are the basics you should know, via handy infographics. To keep up with the latest, I recommend this interactive map and Science Vs., an investigative science podcast that is currently doing a series of episodes on the ever-changing COVID-19 situation. It does a really good job of painting a picture of how this virus actually spreads, who is at risk, and what a pandemic would actually look like. The “Pandemic” episode of Explained on Netflix is also proving incredibly prescient right now.
Be a decent human being:
The truth is, if you know the facts, coronavirus isn’t actually that scary. What is scary is uninformed people acting impulsively and selfishly. Like, there is no logical reason for the run on toilet paper (coronavirus doesn’t even make you shit!). The reason there is no toilet paper in your grocery store is because a handful of excitable people panicked and bought up all the Charmin they saw. Then other people panicked when they saw the empty shelf and thought, “I guess I should be stockpiling tp too ??” So they did. Then other people came to the grocery store, saw the empty shelves, and posted pictures of those empty shelves on social media. And now everyone in the entire world is freaking out about toilet paper, for no goddamn reason. This scarcity (of tp, of Purell, etc), is a human-created problem, not an outbreak-created problem. Whereas, if everyone had remained calm and bought only what they needed, we could have avoided this entire headache. But people are gonna people, I guess. (If you’re still freaking out about toilet paper though, you should really just invest in a bidet, which is far more sanitary and better for the environment anyway.)
All this is to say: Think before you act. Stop tweeting pictures of empty shelves - you’re only fueling the fire. And don’t use the climate of fear and uncertainty as an excuse to act like a shitty person. When things return to normal, your actions right now will be remembered by those around you. So:
1. Take a look at this graph. If you’re healthy and young (under 60), don’t be a dick. Before you snatch every last roll of toilet paper or bottle of cold remedy off the shelf, considering leaving some for the grandmother behind you who’s probably terrified and has only just now risked leaving her house for this one grocery run, only to find the shelves bare.
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2. Moreover, instead of getting swept up into the panic-buying and selfish hoarding, consider buying/delivering groceries for the elderly and at-risk, who are unable to leave their homes. Find out what volunteer opportunities have sprung up in your community to specifically address outbreak-related needs.
3. Donate to food banks - People who have been furloughed from their jobs will have an even harder time putting food on the table, and kids that depend on free school meals will still need to eat if their school is closed.
4. Support local businesses. Big businesses will weather this just fine, but your mom-and-pop store down the street? Your local grocer? They’re hurting already and might not be able to survive weeks or months of low sales or even closing down for a period of time. So...
Buy from local stores rather than big chains as much as possible.
If you are eating/ordering out, choose local, and especially Asian restaurants, who are really hurting right now, and because again: YOU CANNOT GET CORONAVIRUS FROM FOOD. YOU’RE JUST BEING RACIST.
If you don’t want to eat out at all right now (probably advisable), buy gift cards to local restaurants for yourself or others – This will support struggling business now when they need it, and then you can cash in on them when things calm down a bit.
Likewise, if you have tickets to a play, show, etc that gets cancelled, consider not asking for a refund and instead making that a donation to your local stage company, independent cinema, arts center, etc.
If you live in a city where a large event with many local vendors gets cancelled, find out if there is an alternative pop-up event to support those vendors, or buy from them on Etsy. Many artists and craftspeople depend on one huge, annual event like a fair or Con for their entire year’s earnings, so having that event postponed or cancelled is a huge financial blow to them. For example, when Emerald City Comic-Con got pushed til August, this lovely Twitter thread popped up to support the artists.
Maintain your sanity:
The other big thing we are starting to realize is that this social distancing is going to cause a loneliness epidemic in countries that are already some of the loneliest in the world. We don’t know how long these measures will be in place, so we need to prepare ourselves, mentally/emotionally:
1. Take a breath - Even worst-case scenario, this isn’t the end of the world. Try to keep perspective. Apps like Happify, Calm, or any of these can help keep obtrusive thoughts at bay, provide guided mindfulness meditations and breathing exercises, and help center you when you feel like the world is spinning out of control. This is likely going to be a marathon, not a sprint, so pace yourself and be proactive about your mental health.
2. Stay connected – We have more ways to keep in touch virtually now than ever before.
FaceTime, Marco Polo, Discord – Use technology to check in with your friends and family.
Podcasts are a great way to feel connected to others right now. Death, Sex, and Money just did a listener call-in episode, which was a good reminder that this outbreak is affecting people differently across city, state, country, race, class, gender, and ability. Another one of my faves that is going to be applicable to more people than ever in these coming months is The Hilarious World of Depression, in which comedians like Rachel Bloom, Solomon Georgio, and Margaret Cho talk about mental illness and comedy. In one especially relevant episode, Mara Wilson talks about how people with anxiety tend to handle crisis much better than neurotypicals (which explains how I’m so zen right now...)
3. Keep busy - Not being able to go out and socialize like we are used to is likely to make a lot of us stir-crazy. But there are a ton of things you can do and see from the comfort of your own home.
Go on a virtual museum tour, or see the Palace of Versailles.
Take a soothing, 8-hour virtual drive through Iceland.
Watch operas at The Met.
Explore NASA’s stunning media library.
Tackle your book list.
Start writing that novel (or finish that fic!)
File your taxes (Get that return!)
Do your spring cleaning.
Plant a victory garden to reduce the strain on producers and avoid crowded stores.
Binge the shows your friends keep telling you about (follow this blog and podcast for recs!)
If you have kids, here’s a list of all the free educational courses being offered right now.
Libraries may be closed, but you can still get free ebooks, music, movies and TV shows on the Hoopla app, and movies on Kanopy for free if you have a library card or are a student or teacher.
Some upcoming theatrical releases have been postponed (No Time to Die, indeed), but others, like Emma and The Invisible Man, will hit streaming platforms immediately, so you can still get your new movie fix.
So many things to do! Try not to see it as being confined, but rather as an opportunity to do all the things you’ve been putting off. If getting shit done makes you feel good, do it! But hey - remember that you really don’t have to be productive right now just because capitalism tells you to. This is also a great time to be still and relish doing absolutely nothing.
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4. Perspective - Remember that this is not the only thing happening in the world right now (psst, the U.S. government is using this distraction to fuck with our privacy, AGAIN.) Also, this is not the first pandemic humanity has endured and it will be nowhere near the worst, so soothe yourself by reading about past pandemics and how we got through them.
Alright. Back to covering pop culture for me (we’re gonna need escapism now more than ever). I’m not gonna even try to update this regularly, that’s just too daunting. But I encourage you to add to this and share as needed in the coming weeks/months.
Stay safe out there, and
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