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justalonelyslytherin · 2 years

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Game Day

Pairing: Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x female Reader

Summary: When his girlfriend finished school early and moved away for college it was hard on both of them. Now Jake is about to be surprised by her after weeks of not seeing each other.

Warnings: none. fluff. highschool!au

Wordcount: 3.2k

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A/N: This is part of @flufftober's Flufftober 2022. Dividers were created by the lovely @/firefly-graphics

“Your brother has no clue?” She asked, leaning back in the car seat as she looked out of the window. Ellie - Jake’s younger sister - laughed beside her in the driver's seat.

“Not one bit.” They both chuckled in unison, a big excited grin spreading over their lips. While it was her surprise, the younger Seresin shared the anticipation.

“And you are sure we aren’t going to run into him before the game?” There was this concern still left, as she didn’t want the surprise to be spoiled for him. Jake and she hadn’t seen each other in weeks, she was excited to see her boyfriend again but even more, she was excited for him to be surprised by it. Even more than for the surprise to be spoiled, she wanted him to be able to focus on his game tonight.

“Nah, we got him distracted. His teammates are in on the surprise,” conspiratorially Ellie grinned over at her, “His coach too.” “Even his coach?” She was impressed to hear that, smirking to herself about the dedication. His family had gone all out with the surprise she had planned. What originally had been meant to be just a small sweet surprise for her clueless boyfriend had turned into an elaborate game plan involving first his family and as it seemed now also his team. The moment she had told them about her idea they had been on board.

“I can’t wait to see his face!” The youngest Seresin sibling snickered, more than excited to see the face her big brother would make once he saw his girlfriend again.

“So how is it? Over there I mean?” Smiling over at Ellie she thought for a moment.

“It’s not Texas,” she said and chuckled as Ellie rolled her eyes, muttering a ‘duh’. “It’s different but nice. I miss you all very much, I know that is all you want to hear anyways.” “No! That’s not true,” Ellie protested, “okay maybe. But I really want to know how it is. You know I’m going to be stuck here for at least two more years. If I even manage to convince mum and dad to let me go to college somewhere further away.”

“You make it sound like that’s something bad.” Beside her, Ellie groaned and pouted.

“It isn’t…I’m just saying it’s not what I want.” And she knew that. She remembered how Ellie had even begged to take her with her. The youngest Seresin had always wanted to leave their home state and explore the outside.

“I know El. But believe me, once you are away you are going to miss it here.” She definitely did. Moving away on her own to a new place wasn’t easy. As much as she loved it, as much as she wanted to fulfill her dreams, it was hard. Leaving the one place she knew and called home and with it, everyone that played an important part in her life was one of the hardest things she had to do.

“I wish you could have stayed for the summer still. One last summer with both of you.” Ellie murmured as they pulled into the driveway of the Seresin family ranch. A heavy pit formed in the depth of her stomach. The younger girl's words held a heavy truth.

“Yeah,” she mumbled solemnly, “I wish that too.” As much as she loved getting a headstart for college and to have even been offered the opportunity to intern at a place for work experience even before starting her undergrad, it caused her to miss out on so much. She was missing out on the last year of her teenage years. Her last summer of high school. And most importantly her last summer with Jake before he’d leave to go to the Academy.

She was grateful there wasn’t much time for her to wallow in those thoughts as Jake’s mother came out of the house the moment she heard the engine turn off. Ellie and she exited the car at the same time, the smell and view of the place hit her instantly. It felt like home. The smile that spread over her face was so bright it pulled at the corners of her mouth, there was even a slight dust of wetness along her eyes.

“Oh, dear! I’m so happy to see you again.” Getting swept up in one of mama Seresin’s bear hugs was one of the best feelings in the world. That she had decided the moment she had met the woman. Jake’s mother exuded motherly warmth like no one else and maybe - even if she would never tell that to Jake - she was her favorite person in his entire family.

“I missed you!” She mumbled, nearly overwhelmed with the relief and heartache of being home again, of seeing the people she had so dearly longed for.

“We missed you too dear. Jake especially.” The corners of her mouth wavered slightly, still smiling but not as brightly as before. While she knew they all meant well, it hurt to hear them remind her that he missed her. It hurt because she was the one responsible for it.

Jake didn’t let her notice that he missed her, even if she knew deep down. He tried to be tough before her - for her really - never showing or talking about it, always putting on a brave face and being his happy self whenever they talked or facetimed.

It had taken a toll on both of them. This was the first taste of separation and long-distance they had gotten. They only knew what was still to come and that with Jake entering the Navy Academy they would be even more restricted in seeing each other.

Before she knew it she was sitting in the big and open kitchen of the ranch house. The light interior had always been welcoming to her and the scent of freshly baked pie and other goods always made her mouth salivate. Ellie came bouncing down the stairs and plopped down in the chair beside her with a smirk. She leaned over to her, hand before her mouth, and whisper-shouted into her ear. “I brought your bag into Jake’s room.”

She had to laugh over the exaggerated smirk the younger one shot her before she glanced over at the matriarch of the family. Their eyes briefly met, making her cheeks heat up. It wasn’t like she hadn’t stayed over before, then too, they’d shared Jake's bed. He was a good boy, raised well by his mom so he wouldn’t dare to do something unjust under her roof. She would never dream of doing anything with his parents in the house either. But the implications were there.

“Are you hungry dear?”

“No, I ate before the flight but thank you.” She was much too nervous for later, to eat something right now. All that she wanted was for the time to go by faster so it would be time to go to the game. Luckily catching up with the seresin women made the time run by. When the front door opened with a loud pop all three of them looked up.

“Savannah!” Ellie jumped up and smiled seeing the oldest seresin sibling. She too smiled at seeing Jake’s older sister.

“Hey! Why aren’t you all ready yet?” Savannah looked questioningly at them, worming her way out of Ellie’s embrace before she walked over to her to hug her too. “It’s so good to see you! Jake’s going to be so happy to see you.”

“I hope he cries and I can get it on film.” “Ellie!”

“Sorry, mum.”

Both Savannah and her laughed at Ellie’s absolutely unapologetic tone. Her mischievous grin matched as they pulled out of the hug.

“Are you ready to go?” Savannah asked once more, alerting them of the actual time. They had talked so much and so enthusiastically that they hadn’t noticed time rushing by. Glancing at each other, she nodded at both Mrs seresin and Savannah. It was not before Ellie shouted loudly, “Wait!”, stopping them from walking towards the front door. She rushed up the stairs, feet stomping loudly which made Mrs seresin roll her eyes.

Not long after Ellie came running down the stairs again, this time with something in her hand that she held out towards her now. Confused, she took it, unfolding what she discovered was a clothing item.

Not any clothing item in fact. As she unfolded it, the first thing to catch her eye was the large number sprawled across the back and then right above it in bold lettering ‘Seresin’. Looking up again she smiled at Ellie, thankful for the younger ones' genius.

“Isn’t that the one he kept looking for earlier?” Savannah asked, pointing at the jersey to which Ellie nodded.

“Yep. His lucky jersey.” She smiled proudly at all of them again.

“Ellie!” Mrs. Seresin scolded once more, shaking her head in disbelief. “You could have taken every other jersey. Not his lucky one.” Ellie just shrugged her shoulders once more innocently, while her mother watched on exasperated.

“Poor boy nearly went crazy looking for it earlier,” Mrs. Seresin mumbled, which made her bite her lip. She knew how important his lucky charms were for Jake. He wasn’t very superstitious but this was the exception.

“But what better lucky charm does he have than his girlfriend?” Ellie argued, pointing at her, who still held the jersey in her hand. While she had listened to the argument between them, her thumb had started to softly rub over the printed name on the back of it.

“It doesn’t matter anymore does it now? Now it’s already too late to still bring it to Jake, mum.” Savannah intervened, fearing they would be late if mother and daughter kept arguing.

“I’m sure he won’t mind the jersey,” she piped in, smiling shyly at all of them. Jake wouldn’t even bat an eyelash at the jersey once he saw her. Mrs. Seresin smiled at her and nodded and Ellie grinned at her too, nodding wildly.

“Put it on, put it on!” Ellie encouraged her. Smiling, she nodded and shrugged the jersey over her head. It was much too big on her, hanging off one shoulder and the sleeves covered her hands. The three Seresin women all took a moment to look at her. The intense looks made her neck and cheeks heat up once more.

It was Savannah then once more, who began to speak, ushering them all out of the house so they could leave. Right now. Ellie and she took the lead, walking out of the front door first to get the car(s). Which left her with Jake’s mother to leave the house and while they walked out of the door, mama seresin spoke up too,

“You know I hope one day Jake will make you a real Seresin.”

The stadium was already quite full when they arrived and continued to only fill up even more after they had found some good seats in the stands. Ellie had instructed some friends to save them good but inconspicuous seats so Jake wouldn’t see any of them while playing. It warmed her heart how everyone jumped at the opportunity to help her make this surprise be good.

“Oh, it’s starting!” Ellie gushed, pointing towards the field where the players started to run up.

Her heart started to rapidly beat as her eyes landed on one certain blonde player. His face and hair were mostly covered by the helmet he was wearing but it was still him. She would recognize Jake everywhere. Seeing him, even from such a distance, had her feeling lightheaded. For the longest weeks, she had only seen him through her phone screen, in a rather grainy and pixelated version - thanks to the weak internet her accomodation had - so seeing him in person was special. It made the butterflies in her stomach sprout again, just like the first time she had seen him.

Her eyes never wavered from his form. Not one moment during the game did she glance away. She couldn’t. No game could be more interesting to her than Jake. Even if it was a very gripping and thrilling game. Both teams fought tooth and nail to get the lead, the scores head to-head for most of the game until finally, in the end, they got the upper hand.

The stands erupted in loud cheers and whoops as the team won. Savannah, Ellie, and she started screaming and cheering, the two sisters embraced, before Ellie turned around and pulled her into a crushing hug. The way she jumped up and down shook her a little but ultimately made her laugh.

“I think that’s the best game they played this entire season,” Savannah said behind the two of them, a happy and proud grin lighting up her face. She didn’t miss the glint in her eyes as Savannah winked at her with a hint of suggestion.

“Come on! Let’s go down!” Ellie prodded at the two of them, pointing towards the lawn where the team was huddled together to celebrate. It was a mess of players, all high-fiving and hugging and cheering together.

She felt a shove on her shoulder, “Let’s go surprise him now,” she suggested with another nudge. “Okay okay, don’t shove me down the stairs!” She laughed at the younger one's enthusiasm as she wiggled her way through the crowd and took the stairs downwards. Many people already made their way out of the stadium which meant they were walking against the flow of the mass.

The closer they came to the lawn, the more her nerves acted up. She hadn’t been nervous during the game. Maybe a little while she had been engrossed in the match, rooting for her boyfriend's team but that wasn’t anything to compare to now. She felt her throat close up in anxious anticipation, making swallowing much harder.

Behind her, she heard Ellie fumble around with something. When she glanced back to make sure she was alright, she saw her looking down at her phone. Right, she had wanted to film the surprise.

Down on the lawn, her nerves skyrocketed once more. From the stands above the field, she had had a much better view over the different players but now Jake had vanished in the sea of jerseys. Her eyes swept over the group, and many familiar names on the jersey’s stuck out to her but not the one she was looking for. Sometimes she met familiar eyes that recognized her. But more than a fast exchange of a smile was never in. She had a mission.

Finally, her eyes landed on the blonde mop of hair and the tan, strong neck flowing down into the broad shoulders she loved so much. The printed ‘Seresin’ in white on his back shone out to her. There was excitement bubbling up in her stomach once more and a grin spreading on her face.

One last time she looked back towards Ellie and Savannah, smiling at them and giving them a thumbs up. They smiled back at her just as brightly, Ellie waving her away. With a small laugh, she turned around and made her way through the crowd toward her chosen one.

Jake had no clue, he stood with his back to her and was talking to some of his friends and fellow teammates. One of them looked over his shoulders and when his eyes met hers, she held her finger up over her lips, signaling for him to keep quiet. It worked and less than a minute later she finally stood behind him.

The clearing of her throat he didn’t hear, so she tapped him on the shoulder, hard enough so he would feel it. Jake turned around almost instantly and when he did he had to do a double-take. His expression slipped off his face and was replaced with shock.

In a matter of seconds, he had thrown his helmet to the floor, carelessly away so his hands were free before he jumped forward and tackled her. She was swept up in his arms, her feet lifted up from the floor as Jake held her in his arms and hugged her tightly. And while she was pressed against him, she laughed - albeit a little wetly as tears of happiness gathered in her eyes - happily, clutching his shoulders.

“What- Are you real?” She heard him mumble against her neck, where Jake had pressed his face. The tears choked her up so much she couldn’t speak and instead just nodded, while her hands softly rubbed over his back and his neck.

For most of the hug, they stayed quiet, just enjoying the moment and holding each other close. It felt so incredibly good to be back in his arms, to feel him against her, to smell his shampoo in her nose.

At one point Jake slowly put her down again. He did so more reluctantly, because truly he didn’t want to let her go but the game had exhausted him, his arms and shoulders were starting to throb from holding her up. When her feet touched the ground again, he looked at her. Up and down, he eyed her intently, zeroing in on her face as if he still couldn’t believe she was there. Softly she smiled up at him and reached one hand out to caress his cheek.

“I’m really here,” she softly mumbled. The brightest smile she had ever seen on his face broke out at that. It made her heart flutter once more with happiness.

Jake swept in once more, this time kissing her. He kissed her with a might that made her dizzy and had her nearly stumbling back. A giggle erupted between them, as their lips stayed connected, his nose softly nudging against hers. Her fingers brushed through the short her at the nape of his neck while his hands wrapped around her waist once more securely pressing her against his chest.

Cheers erupted all around them as his team caught on to what was happening. There were a couple of wolf whistles and suggestive yet encouraging shouts centered around spurring Jake on. But all of that didn’t bother them one bit. They were so focused on each other that they could not have been there at all.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her lips once they parted for air. Jake pressed another small kiss against her lips before he pulled away further, eyeing her once more with that happy glint in his eyes.

“Surprise.” Hearing him laugh was one of the greatest sounds the world had to offer. It was warm and hearty and it made her stomach tingle whenever she heard it.

“You,” he pointed his finger at her, softly tickling her side a little, “are the best Darlin’.”

“Alright, enough smooching! You can do that later when you are alone!” Ellie interrupted just as Jake wanted to lean down for another kiss. He looked up and shot his little sister a dirty look. One she pointedly ignored. When he spied the rest of his family he straightened up.

While they left the lawn altogether Jake kept one arm casually thrown over her shoulder. She was comfortably pressed against his side, one arm wrapped around his lower back. They trailed behind his family, sneaking glances at the other and smiling like lovesick fools. At one point she felt a small tug at the bottom of the jersey, before Jake spoke up, “So that’s where that went.”

#flufftober2022 #day 09 #top gun maverick #jake seresin x reader #jake 'hangman' seresin x reader #hangman seresin imagine #hangman x reader #hangman top gun #hangman imagine #sly's 300

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theonethatyaks93 · 1 year

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Hi everyone!! I’m not dead, I’m back!! I apologize for the lack of posts recently; I was taking a break. But now, I’m ready to make regular posts again. But before we get back to our regularly scheduled programming, I have some exciting news! Last night, I attended both performances of Animaniacs in Concert!!! I finally got the opportunity to see this after two years of wanting and wishing. I was so excited!! Both shows were absolutely amazing and there were so many incredible songs, both recognizable and unreleased. I also laughed so hard that I got a minor headache. But it was worth it! I had the time of my life and it was so cool to see the number of fans who also love this show. So many people were wearing t-shirts or carrying the Animaniacs Loungefly backpack around. There were even some younger fans there and that was so awesome. I, of course, went all out, wearing an Animaniacs t-shirt, Pinky and The Brain leggings, a Pinky and The Brain sweatshirt, Pinky and Brain socks, my own Animaniacs backpack, and my cool Nike Air Force Ones which I’ve christened my “space shoes.” I got to sit in the third and second row at the venue (which I’ve been to many times) and I cheered and clapped as loud as I could. The talent here was unbelievable. Rob was incredible and I can’t believe he can sing this good. He is truly my inspiration. Randy was amazingly talented and it was great to finally see him. I was ecstatic when Maurice came on stage since I’ve never seen him in person before. The real Pinky and Brain were right in front of me!!! Ahhhhhh!!! This show was not only entertaining and hilarious, but I also learned a few new things and got to hear a few songs I’ve never heard before (I can’t get that song about things getting smaller out of my head!). Even my parents, who aren’t as into the show as I am, had a great time. Seriously, whenever they come back, I’m buying tickets pronto! This was incredible and I loved it so much. However, the best part of this experience would come before and after each show.

(This is kind of a real name reveal so surprise!!)

I met both Rob and Maurice not just once, but twice!!! OMG!! This has been a dream of mine for a long time and it’s come true. I hope I can meet them again soon! So, I’m going to get into a little story about what happened and what has happened in the past few months. Back in June of 2022, I got a surprise Cameo message from Rob, which made my entire summer! I actually started crying when I got the surprise and I thought that my dream of meeting him would never come true. I mean, he did respond to a few of my questions on Instagram Live back in October of 2022 (I stayed on for four hours!) but I really wanted to meet him. Thankfully, I got my wish when for an early Christmas present from my parents, I got to meet and talk to Rob for over an hour on Cameo. It was a great experience and my parents enjoyed it, too. I still wanted to meet him in-person, but this was close enough. And then, Animaniacs in Concert came around. I got tickets to both shows as a Christmas present back in December and I expected just to have a fun time. I did not expect to meet both Rob and Maurice twice! I met Rob before the first show. My mom pointed him out just walking into the lobby and I, of course, rushed over to him. It took a minute, but he did remember me and my family from the Cameo. We took some pictures and he was just the sweetest person you’ll ever meet. We even hugged! I was so excited and I was even shaking a little. After my family went home for an hour after the first show, we came back and though I’d seen it before, I was still excited. And then, when we were pulling into the parking lot, we saw Maurice walking down the street!!! We rushed to park and we got to meet him! I was so ecstatic! He was really nice and I got some pictures with him. It was an honor!! After the second show, my family waited so we could maybe meet Rob and Maurice and get them to sign my book (Which was in fact Rob’s book, Voice Lessons). We were about to leave when my mom said that they were just hanging out in the auditorium. We rushed in there and waited a few minutes. Rob even remembered my name! Eeeeeeeeeeeee! We got to meet him again and the Maurice showed up and joined us! They both were the sweetest things and they both signed my book! We got some pictures and I even got to show some of my impressions to them. They liked my voices especially when I did both Yakko and Pinky. Some people were even surprised! I told them how much Pinky and Brain meant to me and it was so cool of them. They were so sweet and nice. I was so excited and I didn’t want to leave. It was a true honor and of course, I hugged Rob goodbye. I hope I can see them again, maybe for a convention. It was a dream come true and I’ll never forget it.

So, yeah. All that happened in the span of about 8 hours. It was crazy and I’m actually still processing it currently. My dream came true and I had so much fun! I hope to see both Rob and Maurice again and maybe, Animaniacs in Concert will come around. Alright, that was my experience! It was so amazing and I couldn’t recommend it more. Don’t worry, I’ll be back to regular posting either tomorrow or the next day! Thank you guys for sticking with me!!

#pinky and the brain #patb #animaniacs #animaniacs in concert #this was incredible!#what an honor it was for me to meet them #seriously I love Rob and Maurice so much #next convention they go to I’m going

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vesperstardust · 3 months

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I think my life is done falling apart/together for now

I don't even know how to transcribe the chaos that has been happening in my life the last...forever...but specifically the last 6 months and especially the last couple of months

2020 and 2021 were the best years of my life, maybe that tells you something. They were the years I felt most secure and became most aligned with myself. I've always been a survivor who thrives in liminal spaces.

Falling apart and falling together look remarkably similar. If you take away anything from this post, remember that.

I want to move forward and stay still and let myself be happy and do the things I've been wanting to do but I also want to remember every twist and turn that brought me here. Because I'm grateful how it all worked out.

Wish I could do a cut under a cut Here is the story, I suppose, of what happened.

There is even more I can't write, but the present trials feel like they truly began when I lost my hair from alopecia during 2022.

I've struggled with alopecia areata, one of several chronic illnesses, but that was the first time I became bald. My long auburn red hair I saw as part of my identity, gone. Who am I? I had to find out quickly who I really was and find strength to keep going that I never knew. Cutting or shaving hair as humiliation against one's will, to break one's spirit, I understood why. I didn't recognise myself. During this same time I also had a traumatic experience with people I thought were my friends that was directly related to my experiences with alopecia.

It took months and along with a newly-approved-by-the-fda medication for alopecia and continued scalp injections, it's growing back fairly well. But just as this was happening, we became financially unstable when my partners gig job dried up and he began experiencing a severe health condition at the same time.

Things were stressful and challenging at this point but manageable. Then we lost our food money. At points we were half-starved (I say this without exaggeration - support your local food bank it will save someone's life). The morale blow/raise of losing/gaining treats is not to be underestimated. And people who have never been food insecure don't realise how little other things matter when you can't eat. You can barely think to do other things. I was food insecure growing up so at least that was something I knew how to deal with. But it's still a terrible thing to be hungry.

After going through the winding maze insurance companies so often require even for life-changing prescriptions, my partner finally received the medication he needed to recover his health to a manageable state.

But eventually we faced eviction from our apartment with one week's notice after attempted financial aid fell through. It's traumatic and frightening and sorrowful to have to leave the place you call home under circumstances beyond your control. My partner was interviewed and hired for a perfect job after no luck for months within DAYS of the eviction, ensuring that no matter what happened, we'd finally have food and other resources.

But we still only had a week to find somewhere to move.

One day, management (who had a history of being unreachable, including during the time we tried to seek financial aid and work with them) showed up and tried force their way in (the door chain stopped them) and then proceeded to lie and tell us we had to be gone that day even though legally we did not until 24hrs after the notice had been placed on the door, which it had not yet. That was scary though. And they had sent their newest person, and it's possible she didn't even know it was a lie. But we had the paperwork and emails to prove it. I remember physically trembling, the paper shaking in my hand as we tried to explain. Another time pest control tried to force their way in. I'm sure management sent them too, as the email had only said you could sign up for a visit if you were having issues, which we were not and never signed up for. At an apartment complex, a door chain is such an extra sense of security that prevents people from unlocking your door and just walking in whenever they please, as was proved to me many times.

So we had a week to find somewhere to live. Friends (true friends) helped us more than we can ever repay, in ways that money alone could never repay. We got everything into a storage unit in record time. Our Winter Solstice was spent moving the largest pieces of furniture. Darkest night made bright with their help.

Some places wouldn't even give us a tour because of the eviction now on record. Most things I read during this time about renting with an eviction seemed so bleak. We found one apartment we thought was perfect and applied. They denied our application - but mysteriously accepted it a few days later without us even appealing. Was it because of all the construction at this complex and they were desperate? Did my partner's words somehow sway them? I don't know but I was considering the lilies of the field very, very hard at that point

So we had a place to move to on the 2nd of Jan but in the mean time we had to wait it out at our other apartment, unknowing when we would finally have to leave. A couple weeks sleeping on an air mattress in a near-empty apartment. Merry Christmas. We still had our tiny tree. Happy New Year. Our New Year's Day meal was a single heat and serve bag of basmati which we split, a tin of sardines and some corn. It felt like a small feast. Looking back, all symbols of prosperity and abundance.

On the day we were to move in, my partner's workplace somehow messed up (holidays at least partially to blame) and he still hadn't received his paycheck though he tried everything he could. So we had to scramble to borrow the deposit money from my mom. It's a long walk up to our new apartment at the moment because of all the renovations going on putting out the elevator. And when we got there, we realised they had given us the wrong set of keys so we were stuck outside in the hallway outside the door for 45min with the birds and our small carry items because she'd said she'd bring the correct sets of keys up, meanwhile I also had to go to the bathroom intensely. We'd laughed a lot through all of this when we weren't near-consumed with stress and fear of what would happen next, but it was nice to have a moment that was just purely funny.

The paycheck drama continued for another week so we had to work around that as well. But we had somewhere to live. Somewhere safe.

By the time it was my birthday about a week later. I slipped on the carpet running to say bye to my partner. It could have been worse but I scraped up my knee and hurt my leg. My knee/leg still hurt :') That same day our car also had trouble and stalled while my partner was on the way to work, so our plans to finally go out were dashed BUT he ordered Indian for us so we had a great meal nonetheless.

I love this new apartment. The layout is interesting and unique, one of the reasons we were drawn to it. The closet shelving is threatening to collapse but that can be fixed. Lack of bathroom counter space and large mirror is the only real downgrade from the other place but I can honestly say everything else here is equal to or better. Most important, you can see the moon from the window, and the best view of the sky.

The construction here is intense at the moment but inside the apartment itself is a haven, despite the chaos outside. I don't mind it because, after all, it likely played a part in how we were able to live here.

It sounds so small somehow when I write it all down. But it's not comparable to be on the other side of an ordeal where you can see how it all played out all at once and what you dodged and how you survived. When you're in it you have to get to the next day. Sometimes the next hour. I felt real fear during this time, an emotion I wasn't very familiar with. Throughout my life I've been through what some people might call "a lot", since early on. I've had people tell me I'm the strongest person they know. I've learned to handle many fears of many things. But this was an unfamiliar unraveling. And once I realised what it was, I was able to deal with it better. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. Frank Herbert was right.

My last time at the other apartment was happy, peaceful and filled with relief. It was a nice place for the time we lived, but everything good came with us. There were things I loved about it, but there were also things I won't miss and am glad to get away from (like living by the highway).

Thanks for reading this post if you made it all the way through. I wasn't sure how much to tell strangers on the internet but - we're friends here :)))

Adapt. Survive. Survive. Thrive.

Outside our window currently looks like the blitz. But only in the best way possible. Because the chaos doesn't bring any grief or fear - just a way out.

#personal #eviction #chronic illness #survival #long post #personal storytime

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rachelsnotebook · 4 months

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A Look Back At The Games of 2023

There's always too many games and not enough hours in a year, but I refuse to let that stop me from celebrating the games that were important to me over the course of 2023.

The Games I LOVED in 2023:

(In no particular order)

Atelier Ryza: Ever Darkness & The Secret Hideout (released September 26, 2019)

This game spoke to me on so many levels: the lonely childhood, the frustrations at home, the desire to prove myself, the dreams of adventure, a craving to learn, an enchantment with magic.

How could I not fall in love with these characters? I wish this game came into my life so much sooner.

Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney (released October 12, 2001)

Now, this is a game series that missed me entirely. It wasn't until I was an adult with internet access that I was briefly introduced to Phoenix Wright. Right away I knew I liked the style of humor, but I still didn't feel compelled to give the series a try any time soon.

Flash forward to 2023... I picked up the available Ace Attorney games on the 3DS eshop before it died. So, when I found myself on an airplane for the first time I decided to keep the ball rolling. I booted up the first Ace Attorney, and I get it now. This game is an experience. And I love it dearly!

A Date with Death (Dec 7, 2023)

Now, an important note here is that I still haven't played the full game. I had planned on it by the time I finished getting this massive post written, but I put my focus into playing the other submissions in the Velox Turbo Jam.

The demo though... that I played. A lot. The concept, game mechanics, the art, everything is simply amazing to interact with. How do you not fall in love with this game? Grimmy is so funny (and HOT). I'm looking forward to exploring this game fully in the new year!

Sonic Frontiers (released November 8, 2022 & story dlc September 28, 2023)

I've been playing Sonic for as far back as I can remember, and Frontiers might be my personal favorite of the bunch. It was a joy to explore and experiment with the new mechanics. And I know it's far from perfect. I'm not blind, but I'm not heartless either. Sometimes all you can do is laugh and move on. Over the course of my experience playing, every mechanic and level was accessible. That journey was where I fell in love with Frontiers.

The story dlc was everything I wanted. I'm so happy we got to play as Amy, Tails, and Knuckles! The controls again, aren't perfect, but I'm grateful and thrilled that this content exists at all.

Xenoblade 3 DLC Future Redeemed (released April 25, 2023)

Future Redeemed is my personal game of the year. No question.

If you have a spare hour or two, I do highly recommend looking up on youtube the journey and evolution of the Xeno games. The story of creator, Tetsuya Takahashi, is really cool!

But in short: he kept striving to tell an incredibly complex RPG that would span several games and thousands of years of in game lore. He had a vision that publishers just didn't share. That led him to form his own studio, but he couldn't bring his original IP with him. He had to start again, and one more time after that when Nintendo finally acquired his studio.

The Xenoblade Trilogy is actually six games in disguise. The dlc story content for each game exists as it's own game. The campaigns are significantly shorter, but they're games that stand on their own, 100%.

Future Redeemed was released as the finale to the overarching plot (the Klaus Saga), and this marked the first time that Tetsuya Takahashi was able to bring one of his Xeno plots to a close on his own terms. Xenoblade is still going to continue, but this plot can rest easy.

For the most part. FR still left plays with tons of questions, but it did it's job beautifully. It honored the past games and looked to the future, and I loved every piece of it.

And most remarkably, it also kicked the door down for Tetsuya Takahashi's older IPs to return to the story. It's unclear right now how and when, but the future is so very bright for some incredible games to get another chance to shine.

Splatoon 3 (released September 9, 2022)

I spent a lot of time playing Splatoon this year. Am I good at it? No! But I love this game with my whole heart.

Intertwine (released July 2023)

Will I ever shut up about Intertwine? Hopefully no! I highly recommend checking out the post I made going into detail on this game.

Intertwine stole my heart. It's a fun game that feels deeply special. You'll laugh, you'll cry, and most of all... you'll fall in love with Van.

The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog (Mar 31, 2023)

A small team put this game together for April Fools and I owe them my life! This is one of my favorite things that happened this year.

If you missed it, for April Fools Sega dropped an entire Sonic the Hedgehog visual novel. And it's AMAZING.

Coral Island (Nov 14, 2023)

The children who grew up on Bokujō Monogatari are rapidly creating their own farming games. Stardew Valley is the most famous game to come from that group and it's inspiring even more people.

Now, as someone who has likely spent years of their life playing their favorite farming games again, and again... I tend to be picky about what I want from a farming game. I have a clear vision in mind for my dream game.

And Coral Island is really close to that dream! There's a ton of love and careful thought put into the art, the story, and the characters. I can't wait to keep playing and discovering new mechanics and secrets.

Suika game (December 9, 2021)

I love puzzle games! And I was sold on this game instantly.

I may have also bought it from the Japanese eshop some time before it was even announced for a North America release...

Titan Arum (released August 2023)

This game came into my life at a time when I badly needed a distraction. And Titan Arum delivered!

Titan Arum is a visual novel with three love interests, and nothing is as it seems. It's so incredibly cool, and I can't believe that I get to be friends with the devs. This game is a massive home run.

The art, the UI, the story... omg we could be here all day discussing everything. There's a ton to chew on and I don't want to spoil a single thing. Trust me on this, just play it.

Yakuza 0 (released March 12, 2015)

I'm still working my way through this one. Yakuza games are known for their length and I'm not interested in rushing any part of it.

My journey so far has been a ton of fun. There's so much detail injected into the world and the characters that I sometimes find it difficult to put the game down. I love the balance of seriousness and silliness. We need more of that in games.

I can't wait to keep on fighting with Kiryu in 2024.

The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom (released May 12, 2023)

Tears of the Kingdom is easily one of the best games of 2023, and in general. The mechanics they got working are incredible! I'm perpetually in awe by my own puzzle solutions and the clips I've seen of others. It's a truly amazing game.

There's little I can say that others haven't. And to be honest I'm still after all these months, collecting my thoughts on this game. I love TOTK, but I do have a few issues with it. So stay tuned for that post in 2024...

Games that released / released a demo in 2023 that are on my RADAR:

Again, I wish on every star that I had more hours in a day so I could play every game that catches my eye. These are the ones I'm jumping on the opportunity as soon as possible!

-Baldur's Gate 3

Yominokuni

Slay the Princess

Curse Crackers: For Whom the Belle Toils

Thirsty Suitors

In Stars and Time

Dicentra

Little Goody Two Shoes

Mario + Rabbids Sparks of Hope - DLC 3

Other Game related media from 2023 that I want to acknowledge:

Sega has been really knocking it out of the park with their Sonic the Hedgehog content:

(There's too much to link to directly so I'm posting my personal favorites)

Tails Tube

Dr. Eggman takes over Lego

Sonic Symphony events

The added Frontiers content:

youtube

Sonic Superstars animated content

youtube

Sonic Dream Team animation

youtube

The incredible announcement for The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog

youtube

I also must emphasize this praise is for the hardworking teams at Sega. If you haven't been following their unionizing efforts I recommend checking this out:

The IDW Sonic Comics! They're a ton of fun and I look forward to them every month.

Atelier Ryza had a big year of added content. The trilogy wrapped and I'm still emotional watching this video they released to visually recap the story.

youtube

Ryza also received an anime adaption of the first game. I'm in North America and I watched all of it on crunchyroll. It was a really well done adaption of the first part of the game. I hope it comes back for a season 2, because there's a ton more I want to see animated.

youtube

I'm a huge Fire Emblem Heroes addict and I'm always shocked how much original content in that mobile game flies under the radar. The movies for each new story milestone are often really cool.

[I hit an insert video limit so please copy and paste, and check that playlist out!]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B5bIw5CyOLE&list=PLqP2A2xeRzdS3MjLNZvmZnWFYf_zwZqwq&ab_channel=NintendoMobile

I almost made it to the end before I hit the limit!

I can't thank you enough if you made it down to this point. This post spiraled out of control... and somehow this is still it reigned in.

It's almost 9pm on New Years Eve and I just want this post done. So if there are errors, I'm sorry. I tried. I fell into writing as if I'm talking to you directly and I like that level of comfort for a fun post like this one.

Have a Happy New Year!!!

#announcements #gaming thoughts

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misscammiedawn · 11 days

Note

75 and 76?

From this Ask Meme

75. What’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for you?

Gosh--

I am lucky to be with the most lovely human beings and have had wonderful people in our past

I could go through every small thing-- any of the personalized items handcrafted designed to represent a specific relationship with each of the 5 (known/present) parts of our system; the letters that we treasure; the gifts that melt our heart; the dates; the traveling long distance to hold our hand after surgery; surprise meals when not expecting it; treating our fantasies like a wish list; giving me a home and a family when we needed them; loving us in general.

But truly?

Honestly?

The answer that means the most?

They called me by my name.

...it doesn't matter if it's 2018-2019 when we were finally coming out as trans, 2022-2023 when our therapist was helping us accept we were a system or the days when we were a username on a webforum and our name being something that needed to be earned through friendship and trust?

Hearing our name spoken with recognition, love and acceptance means the world-- showing that you see me and care is the sweetest thing I can imagine

The gestures are just window dressing to that sentiment

76. What’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for someone?

I dunno?

I don't think we're good at reciprocating-- Daja would likely say otherwise-- but it's something we lost when the previous stage of our life ended

In the married era we used to do big romantic gestures, we wore a tuxedo into Chicago and came to a concert performance at Civic Opera House that our ex was performing at with a bouquet of roses-- we had our silly little Valentines ritual where we both worked retail and hit Denny's at 2am and we put a flower inside a styrofoam cup with a kitty smile on (a reference to a novel I wrote for her)

Our little Family meant the world to me back then and I tried to do sweet things to our detriment-- especially as I was always better at doing it for some members of the family than others and that would have given a dramatically skewed perspective; in hindsight a "advent calendar" of OC art commissions is only as sweet as it is knowing that others did not receive that

I think that's why we stopped doing the dramatic sweet gestures in current life-- they were built up from a lens of monogamy and they were kind of self-serving? Like we wanted to feed on the enthusiasm and joy of the reactions and that lead to trying to find something that would get a reaction and from the ones who gave the best reactions which favored those with more extroverted expression and those who wore their passion on their sleeves

We just don't wanna alienate our shyer/reserved partners by pouring into the ones who react brightly-- y'know? It's unfair

We still do nice things-- we will read entire book series' to get closer to those we love-- we'll learn all the lore and music of a band to attend a concert with them-- we'll go halvsies with their spouse-human to get a piece of merchandise that is perfect for them

But these days what we have learned is to share a language with them-- to be able to craft intimate and appropriate gestures that are part of the relationship we have-- whether it be coffee dates-- a hypnosis session just for them-- a gift related to a personal experience we shared or just promises of things we'll share in a future that may or may not ever come

I just want to be sweet-- not do sweet things

I feel our life would have been better from the start if we learned that sweetness and kindness were not performative gestures

#cammie asks #ask meme #t4e

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the-entity-down-the-street · 2 months

Text

Y'know it's been a hot minute since I made a post about witchcraft on this blog, and a lot has changed since my beginnings back in 2019, so I think it's time to share some thoughts.

MY MAGIC AND AUTISM:

One of my discord friends was talking about possibly being an empath, and at first I didn't say anything, but eventually I decided it'd be better to inform them that a lot of the "empath/indigo child/sensitive" stuff is just spiritual talk for neurodivergency.

I'm autistic myself, finally got diagnosed in 2022 a few days before my 25th birthday. My mom told me that we were empaths when I was growing up, that we were sensitive to the feelings of other people, and that's why we both ended up shouldering other people's problems. She tried to teach me how "block" energies, but that never really worked for me. In part, this is because it was an abusive household and there was no escape from the negativity, but that's not the point I'm trying to make.

As it turns out, there is a way to block negative energy, and it's called setting healthy boundaries with the people around you. Y'know, talking with your friends, making it clear when you don't have the energy to listen to them vent. If you have good friends, they'll be happy to listen and respect your wishes. If you don't, well, I cast the spell of "bye."

Having access to therapy, learning interpersonal skills, and (eventually) going on antidepressants was more helpful for getting rid of negativity than any amount of purifying crystals/blocking techniques.

In fact, getting my mental health in check allowed me to *really* start my spiritual journey! Parsing out what was in my head and what was really, genuinely mystical was crucial for my craft. I could talk more clearly with my tarot cards, I was more in-tune with the messages the universe was sending me, and things in my life finally started moving forward.

This brings me back to the autism diagnosis. Having the language and clarification about how I experience the world really allowed me to flourish magically. You know why? Because through understanding how my autism influences my perception, I could find my strengths.

For example, I'm really good at picking out patterns, and I tend to make sense of life through the lens of storytelling, so I have a tendency to see thematic elements that carry through in my life. One of my dearest friends from college said that I did everything with a "narrative flair," and that's because of my ability to find narrative patterns.

This leads into how I picked up pop culture witchcraft. My strong attachments to my favorite stories, as well as my proclivity for picking up on themes, makes it the perfect avenue for performing witchcraft. Now I'm a fully confident witch with strong personal proof that magic is real.

Basically, what I'm saying is, despite the pervasive ableism that conflates neurodivergency with spirituality, there is a healthy way to have both simultaneously, by understanding how one influences the other. It can lead to a deeper understanding of yourself, as well as a deeper connection to the divine! Don't be afraid to be yourself, neurodivergent witches!

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sassy-ahsoka-tano · 1 year

Text

DADDY ISSUES - Part Thirteen: Hot Girl Bummer

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Prompt: After being gone for nearly three weeks, Elvis is returning from his US tour. You've never been more excited to see someone but something is different. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: mentions of violence and guns, mentions of drugs, sexual themes, pain as a result of sex, sexual shame, angst

Rating: M || Word Count: 8072 (oops 😅 )

A/N: It's really important y'all read this because this chapter is heavy, with a capital H. It does contain some serious sexual themes that may be triggering to some readers. It's a very short section (700 words) and I've marked a place where you can skip that content if you wish. I don't want any of y'all to have to read something you don't want to see or experience, so please pay attention to that as you're reading. While it definitely drives home the unfortunate changes in E + Reader's relationship, you do not have to read it to understand the plot. It's solely here to demonstrate how far both characters have fallen.

I also hope I didn't scare you off cause it's not like a graphic depiction of sa or anything! I'm honestly not even sure it needs this much of a warning, but better safe than sorry! It's just a little more intense than the smut I usually write and I really want to make sure you guys stay safe and aren't triggered when you read my writing.

I love you and stay safe out there!! :) 💕

Song Rec: hot girl bummer - blackbear

This is Part 13 of Daddy Issues. Find the rest of the series here!

[ masterlist | taglist ]

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

As you move to cross off your calendar with a big red X, you realize that Elvis has been gone for fifteen days. The worst fifteen days of your life.

After spending the night with Elvis, you’d woken up to an empty bed and empty room. You slept soundly through the entire night, not waking or dreaming one time that you could remember. You also couldn’t remember being that well rested in a long while. With a yawn, you stretched out before climbing out of bed and wrapping yourself in a blanket.

“Elvis?” you asked, although the cold silence of the hotel room gave away the fact that Elvis wasn't there.

When you padded into the kitchen, you found a note on the dining table.

Princess, I’m sorry to leave this way but we had to get going early this morning if we’re gonna make it all the way to Tennessee in time for the first show. I hope you enjoy your time off and I’ll see you in a few weeks. Take care of yourself and be ready for me when I get back. I’lll make up for all the time we missed out on. Here’s a number you can reach me at if you need anything. Or you can always call Jerry. D

Fifteen days later and you find yourself re-reading the note again. During his absence, your goal has been to refresh yourself, do some self-care, spend time with friends, and just enjoy some decompression time. But nothing has gone according to plan. The very first night spent without him ended with you, wasted and sobbing, getting sick into the toilet in your bathroom. Consequently, you spent the next day recovering from a nasty hangover. And the days after that were spent lounging around doing nothing but watching daytime television and reading magazines while you snacked.

You’ve been too embarrassed to reach out to Max and your other friends since you basically ditched them all for Elvis. Life feels so boring without him and whenever you do manage to get out and do an activity of some kind, you find yourself distracted by wishes that he were there to enjoy it with you. You considered returning home to LA for a while but, to be honest, you don’t have the energy to pack up and travel back. Plus, it’s been a while since you talked to Trixie. You never managed to call her back after she saw you on the magazine cover, which means you haven’t talked for several months. She’s called you a few times since then but you somehow always seem to be on your way out or too busy to answer. Now, it’s been so long that you’re too ashamed to answer.

Stuck at the hotel, everything reminds you of Elvis. His absence feels like an entire chunk of your life has been erased. Of course, you’re extremely proud of him and happy that he’s at least able to travel, if not internationally. You really do want him to enjoy his tour and all that but…fighting boredom isn’t the only reason you need him to come back.

Last night, one of the hotel staff brought up a massive stack of envelopes, many of them stamped with big terrifying red letters reading PAST DUE. You read through them all. Several threatened legal action if you didn’t pay back your debt or pay off your bills soon. Your gut reaction was to completely lose it and freak the fuck out, wondering how the hell you’re going to pay for it all. Then, of course, you remembered what your life is and what you “do” for a living.

You took a few moments to compose yourself before giving a call to Elvis at the number he’d left for you. No answer. You called again a few hours later and again this morning. No one ever answered. Next, you tried Jerry who answered and promised you that he’d relay the message. Something in his voice sounded off, distracted. You aren’t totally sure you trust him. It doesn’t matter anyway since, according to one of the letters, you have less than one week to pay your bill or you’ll be contacted by authorities of some kind. Elvis won't be back by then.

It’s not that you’re ungrateful. In fact, you are are very, very thankful for everything Elvis has given you and done for you. But this is a serious problem. If your bills aren’t paid…you shudder to think what might happen. Not to mention that these payments are probably only past due because you’ve moved all the way out to Las Vegas and forgotten to change your billing address. The companies probably sent the bills all the way over to Trixie in LA.

As these realizations begin to hit you, guilt and repentance swim around in your stomach. That’s why Trixie has been calling you. She was trying to get ahold of you to tell you that your bills were piling up. Now, you wish you would have answered. And then you feel even worse, knowing that you should have answered anyway, even if the call wasn’t an urgent warning regarding your financial stability.

Since Elvis won’t be back for another week, you’ll have to find some way to pay it yourself if you can’t get ahold of him. You’re starting to grow desperate and concerned. After trying the number Elvis left for the third time today and receiving no answer, you have enough panicked courage to finally call Trixie back. You sit, frozen, for about twenty minutes while the phone buzzes on the line as it waits for you to punch in the numbers. You anxiously twist the phone cord in your fingers as you wait for her to answer, hoping and praying that she’s at home and not busy. Finally, the line clicks on.

“Hello?” Trixie’s familiar, sweet voice chimes in.

“Trix! Oh my god, I’m so glad you answered! It’s me, Y/N!” you say excitedly, smiling as you grip the phone against your ear.

You’re greeted by silence and wait for several seconds until you start to wonder if you’ve been disconnected.

“Oh…hello,” she finally replies.

“Hi, um…sorry I’ve been distant lately. It’s been kind of crazy around here.”

“Uh-huh. I’m sure.”

“Right…” you say awkwardly. Your palms are starting to sweat and you’re wondering if this is a terrible idea. “So, how are things at home? How are you?”

“I broke up with my boyfriend so not great.”

“Oh?” your eyebrows furrow. You didn’t even know she had a boyfriend… “I’m sorry. I didn’t know-”

“Yeah, you didn’t. Maybe if you’d ever bothered to return my calls you would have known. Or you could have answered them in the first place. Any of the five million times I’ve tried you.”

“Uh…” you stammer. You know she’s right but aren’t sure what you can say in response. You don’t need to worry about it, though, because she continues before you have a chance to say anything else.

“I’ve called you thirty-five times since the last time we talked, you know. We haven’t talked in seven months.”

Your eyebrows furrow and you fall into the chair by the phone, shocked. It can’t have been seven months….right?

“Oh…I-”

“Yeah. Have you even been paying attention? To anything other than yourself for the past seven months? It actually doesn’t even matter because I’ve been calling you to let you know that you have bills piling up here. You owe a lot of money to a lot of people and some of these are from several months ago. I tried to send them to you but I never knew if they went through because I couldn’t get ahold of you. Cause, you know, you stopped answering your phone.”

Silence falls as your brain tangles itself around trying to figure out what to say in response.

“Well, that’s actually why I called you…I was wondering if you might be able to,” you pause and gulp, wincing at the thought of what you have to do. “…lend me some money to help with them. I…”

You fade out as you immediately start to regret asking her to bail you out again. What right do you have to ask her this? After you’ve ignored her completely for the past, apparently, seven months?

“No, please, tell me,” she spits into the phone. “How’s it going up there? Daddy’s forgotten to pay your bills?”

You scoff. You can’t explain why, but her bringing up Elvis just makes your blood start to boil.

“Listen, Trixie, I’m sure it’s just a mix up. I’m sorry I didn’t answer your calls but-”

“What? You were too busy fucking a celebrity to talk to your best friend? The person who gave you somewhere to live for a year when you didn’t have anywhere else? The person who barely knew you at all and still welcomed you into her home, paid for your room and board, cooked for you, was literally your only friend. Y/N, I don’t know who you’ve become over the last seven months. I haven’t even gotten to talk to you, so how would I know. But I just don’t care to know anymore. I’m tired of waiting around to see if you’re actually going to talk to me. It sounds like you’re doing great up there. I saw you and Elvis on a magazine again a few weeks ago at some Vegas club or something. Really nice. I hope you’re enjoying yourself up there and good luck with your bills. I don’t think we should speak anymore. In fact, I’d prefer it if we didn’t.”

“Trixie! I….what? No! Wait, Trixie-”

“Sorry, but I can’t waste my time on someone who so clearly doesn’t care about me.”

The click that sounds when Trixie hangs up the phone is final and harsh. You frantically tap at the receiver, hoping that you’ve just lost each other, even though you know the truth is that she hung up on you. Completely and totally deflated, you put the receiver down and shuffle into your bedroom.

You have to do something about this and fast, probably without Elvis' help, unfortunately. Your eyes sadly trace the faded walls of the apartment that's now dirty, dusty, and not nearly as chic as it was when you moved in. You suddenly sit up straight when your eyes land on the diamond choker sitting on top of its velvet box. You stand up and walk over to it, reaching out to hold it in your fingers. You heave a deep breath, knowing what you have to do.

At least Elvis is returning soon…

─────

When Elvis flight finally lands, you get a call from Jerry letting you know that he’s back and wants to see you tonight. You can barely contain your excitement as you throw your magazine to the side and the bag of chips you’ve been snacking on all day. You take a shower and change into a brand new sexy black dress with Elvis’ favorite pair of deep red lingerie underneath. At the appointed time, you leave the apartment and make your way upstairs to his room. You take a deep breath and smile before sticking your key into the door and pushing through.

“Hi there,” you say, smiling widely as you step into the room.

Your smile quickly drops as your eyes land on the Colonel. Elvis lifts his head and your heart pangs at the noticeable bags under his eyes and disheveled hair. You glance over at the Colonel, who is glaring at you with a cigar between his fat lips.

“And what do you think you’re doin?” he asks, waddling over to you. “Just bargin into Mr. Presley’s room like this.”

“Mr. Presley asked for me,” you say coldly.

“Mr. Presley is in a business meeting,” he replies, blowing smoke in your face just as he’d done before. This time, you wave a hand between you to dispel it.

“Mr. Presley scheduled a business meeting with me at this time,” you respond, staring directly into his eyes. God, you really hate this man. “So I guess that means your time is up. Have a lovely day, Colonel.”

He sticks the cigar between his teeth and glances back at Elvis, who’s sitting lazily on the couch with his eyes half-closed. You peer around the Colonel and your eyebrows knit together. Your daddy doesn’t look well. The Colonel leans in closer to you and you glare at him, disgusted.

“You better watch yourself, little girl,” he growls, flicking some ash from his cigar onto the floor. “If you know what’s good for you.”

With that, he manuevers around you and exits the room. You watch over your shoulder with distaste as he shuts the door behind him. He’s up to something and he’s dangerous. You’ve always disliked him but now you know he’s more of an ass that you originally thought. Shaking your head, you recenter your attention on Elvis.

“Hi daddy,” you say with a smile.

“Hello,” Elvis replies dryly, his expression unchanging.

“I don’t think he likes me very much,” you say with a chuckle, tilting your head in the direction the Colonel left.

Elvis doesn’t respond. Your smile falters a little but you don’t lose hope just yet. After stepping further into the room, you prop yourself on the arm of the couch.

“So did you miss me?”

He doesn’t respond, clearly involved in reading a letter or something that he's holding in his hand.

“Daddy, did you miss me?” you repeat. No response again. You raise your voice. “Mr. Presley!”

“What? Oh, sorry, baby,” he says in a speech that’s almost slurred. He turns this time, although still neglects to lift his gaze to yours. You take a deep breath.

“Did you miss me?”

“Uh, yeah sure. Course I did,” he glances up at you as he sorts through his mail, shaking his head dismissively.

“Okay…well I missed you. A lot,” you say, sliding down next to him and threading your arms around his torso.

He barely reacts and, then a few seconds later, gently removes your arms from around his body. You gulp as you feel your heart starting to drop. You decide to stop messing around and just get to the point.

“Okay well, do you want me tonight or not?” you ask bluntly, placing your hands on your hips.

“Yeah, sure thing. I'm just gonna shower first,” he says, throwing you a tight-lipped smile.

He makes his way into the bathroom before you even have a chance to protest. You’re left, standing confusedly in the middle of the couch with your hands outstretched and mouth hanging open. With a deep sigh, you wander over into the bedroom and notice the stack of mail that Elvis carried in there with him. You sneak a little peek at what’s there. As you sort through it, you notice another receipt for Elvis Presley Enterprises. Glancing around the corner to make sure that Elvis is inside the shower, you then turn to the envelope and pull out the thin piece of paper to read.

Again, you see that EP Enterprises has paid over 50% of the total cost to the Colonel and for several other things that seem unnecessary. As your eyes hit the bottom of the receipt, you still don’t see any payments being made to you or any of the government or company agencies that you owe money to. Your mind flashes back to the very first time Elvis suggested this arrangement to you, what he said about paying your bills. That you wouldn't have to worry about a thing. Either he lied or something else is going on here. You think, too, about the Colonel’s threat. You better watch yourself, little girl. If you know what’s good for you. That man doesn’t scare you by any means. But he is starting to seriously piss you off. He has to be behind this. You just know it.

You hear the shower click off and clutch the paper tighter in your hands, wandering over toward the bed and taking a seat on it. After what feels like a lifetime of waiting, Elvis comes out from the shower with a towel around his waist. Although he hasn’t even been gone for a month, you can see the changes in his face and body. He looks disheveled, probably just tired from all the work and constant performances. But his stomach is rounder than it was, his face drawn, his hair long and unkempt. As you stare at him, you start to wonder if you’re looking at the same man you’ve known.

“Um, Mr. Presley,” you say.

Your eyebrows furrow as you watch him pop more pills into his mouth and down them with a glass of water. You resist the urge to say something about how many he’s taking; what do you know, anyway? You’re not a doctor. He glances over at you and hums in response.

“Could we…talk about something?” you ask nervously, clutching harder onto the receipt.

“Yeah. What’s up, sugar?” he asks, making his way toward the bed and sitting down next to you.

You turn toward him.

“Well it’s just that, uh…I don’t mean to sound ungrateful, but I received a stack of bills in the mail the other day. It was a big stack and they were all past due. When you first proposed the arrangement to me, you said that you’d be happy to pay my bills for me and Jerry also said that-”

“Whatcha got there?” he gestures to the crumpled piece of paper in your fingers and you crunch it tighter, suddenly realizing that you probably shouldn’t be reading your sugar daddy’s mail without his knowledge or permission.

“Nothing, just a tissue. Anyway, I just-”

“I’ll take care of it. Make me a list of what and how much and I’ll make sure it gets done. It was supposed to have been taken care of already,” he says, his eyebrows furrowing and his tongue running over his teeth.

“A-are you sure? I noticed that-”

“Done,” he says resolutely and you clamp your lips together.

You guess it’s none of your business, his financial decisions. Plus, he probably knows already anyway. Why wouldn’t he? It’s not like the Colonel is some distant man who never sees Elvis in person. Quite the opposite, in fact, as you know very well by now. You clutch the receipt in your fingers.

“Thank you,” you say quietly.

“Not a problem, doll. Hey, we can get to it in a few minutes. I just need a rest real quick.”

“Don’t you even worry, big daddy,” you say with a smile, your insides starting to churn with excitement at the thought of getting down and dirty with him again. You’ve missed it so, so much. His sounds, his approval, his touch. “You just lay back and I’ll take care of everything.”

He lays back and you hop off the bed, lifting your top from your frame. With one finger nestled underneath your bra, you freeze as you realize that he’s deep asleep. His mouth is open, a thin line of drool already starting to trickle out. He’s also snoring loudly. You sigh and shake your head, confused by this new Elvis. He seems totally different, utterly disinterested. You assume again that he’s just tired from traveling and performing fifteen shows in as many days. At least, that’s what you desperately hope.

Unfortunately, you soon find out that he’s not just tired. He’s changed.

Over the next several months, you start to notice a number of Elvis’ bad habits growing exponentially worse Most frustrating among them being the drugs. It seems like almost every time you see Elvis nowadays, he’s popping one pill or another. When you meet him in the dressing room or in his room upstairs, he hardly even seems awake sometimes. You tried to be optimistic at the beginning, prompting him to take care of himself. You encouraged him not to take so many pills or to skip a show and give himself some rest. But he’s refused to listen to anything you have to say.

The sex has become unbearly boring and standard, even worse than it was in the beginning. He moves so much slower than he used to. It barely takes any effort on your part to make him finish anymore. You rarely find yourself interested in the sex and more often than not, you have to finish yourself off in the bathroom alone. Sometimes, he barely does anything and expects you to ride him to completion, after which he just falls asleep. Every time, you tuck him in and give him a kiss on the forehead, hoping one time he’ll somehow notice. And then you’ll see a glimmer of the man you used to know, the one you had grown so fond of.

But he never does.

He still buys you expensive gifts and, for a while, you didn't receive any more past due bills, so you figured he took care of your debt, which, of course, you appreciate. But you get to see him less and less these days. One night, when you’re tidying up his room, which tends to get very messy very often now, you discover a bra that doesn’t belong to you. You finally have to face the reality that he’s seeing other women.

As you’ve hashed over a thousand times, you know you’re not exclusive and with his lifestyle and the arrangement you agreed to, you never could be. But still…your heart wants something you just can’t have. Sometimes it feels like you’re starving for his attention, like your life has no meaning without him in it. But your whole relationship has become one giant business transaction with no meaning and no emotion.

When you started feeling even more isolated than the three weeks he was gone for the US tour, you found yourself returning to the backstage area as you tried to make other social connections. Or rekindle the ones you flushed down the toilet.

After several weeks, you finally managed to run into Max. You approached him with a big smile on your face and a friendly wave, but he hadn’t care one bit. He met you with a flat face and cold exterior. When you asked him how things were going, he responded with silence. Then he very emphatically and very bluntly told you that he wants nothing to do with you and none of the people in his circle do either. He went on a long rant about how he never actually knew you, about how you led him on and then dropped him like he was nothing. And he finally answered your long-wondered question. He always knew that your entire purpose there was to fuck Elvis. He’d left you standing still, frozen with guilt and shame, in the backstage hallway.

You also tried Trixie more than several times. And every time the phone rang and rang and rang with no answer. You don’t even know how she knows its you but she always seems to know. The singular time she picked up, she also hung up before you even had the chance to apologize.

In the last month, you’ve also started receiving past due statements again and you’ve never been more frustrated. Whenever you try to bring it up to Elvis, he just assures you that it’s being taken care of. To be quite honest, you don’t know that he even has the mental capacity to have it taken care of adequately anymore. And you’re sure the Colonel just tells him whatever he wants to hear, anyway.

Just six months after returning from the first US tour, Elvis informs you he will be leaving again for another one. The night before his departure, Jerry hand delivers a letter that explains everything. You sigh and shake your head.

“He couldn’t even have walked down here to tell me himself?” you ask, shaking your head.

Jerry just shrugs and shoots you a pitying look.

“Could I come in?” he asks and you shrug, opening the door wider for him. You sit on the couch together in silence for several minutes until he speaks.

“I’m sorry. I know he’s different,” Jerry says, gently taking your arm. “You can leave at any time, you know. You don’t have to stay here. I know it probably hasn’t been what you expected and it’s been…difficult for all of us to watch what’s happening to him. I don’t…know how to help him.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me who’s noticed. What’s wrong with him? He used to be so warm and loving and now…it’s like a different person came back in his place. The drugs, the girls, the guns…it’s all so-”

“I know. I think it’s the stress, the pressure. He has an addiction to performing, to being onstage, to being loved by the masses. The Colonel has him doing all these damn shows, these tours that are unhealthy and too busy, and Elvis just won’t listen to a thing I say.”

You nod.

“Did you know the Colonel takes 50% of Elvis’ earnings?”

“Yeah, I did. But how do you know about that?” he quirks an eyebrow at you.

“I’ve been sneaking peeks at his receipts. How is that legal?”

“Unfortunately, totally legal. Elvis signed his life away when he was 21. He didn’t know any better and things were different back then. Y/N, the Colonel is…a dangerous man. You cannot tell anyone about this, but…I’m looking into his background now. I’m very interested to see what I might find.”

“Jerry,” you start, unsure whether to continue, “I have a question. Elvis told me that he’s been paying my bills and my debts. But a few months ago I got past due statements. They went away for a while but I’ve started getting them again. Is it possible that Elvis doesn’t know where his own money is going?”

“Possible? I think it’s probable. His father’s the business manager but Vernon has absolutely no idea what he’s doing. He’s completely overmatched in every way. He went to jail for tax fraud for god’s sake. Hey, I’ll look into it for you. I think it’s likely that the Colonel has been stopping those payments from going through.”

You nod.

“Yeah, I don’t think he likes me very much. I think he actually threatened me a while back,” you say.

“What did he say?”

“I don’t really remember, honestly. Something about ‘watching myself if I know what’s good for me.’”

Jerry nods, rubbing his fingers along his chin. You glance over at him and your eyebrows raise. You’ve never really paid attention to how handsome he is. You always knew, of course, that he’s good looking but…

You chat for a little while longer. You start to tell him about your struggles, the loneliness and the anxiety. Your weekly breakdowns triggered by the fact that you have no friends, no steady income that you can be sure of, and no romantic interests that make you feel good about yourself.

“I’m always here for you,” Jerry says, leaning forward and taking ahold of your hands. He squeezes them. “You know that, right?”

“Thanks, Jerry. You have no idea how much you’ve meant to me during this whole crazy thing,” you say, squeezing his fingers back. “I could never have done this without your support.”

His eyes flick down to your hand and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a small smile. You pull away and he gets ready to leave so he can finish up the rest of his work for the day.

Once Jerry is gone, you don’t know what to do with yourself other than flop on the couch and try not to have yet another breakdown out about your dwindling funds.

The next three weeks move slower than molasses as you pass your time with lots of sleep and not much of anything else. Elvis and Jerry are both gone on the second US tour. You manage to finish three novels and catch several movies at the theatre…by yourself. You don’t have the energy or social battery to even bother trying to make friends in Vegas anymore and all you really want is to go back home to Los Angeles. Back to when you were safe, happy, and healthy living with your best friend and in charge of your own schedule. As you lazily glance at the calendar, your head snaps up and you smile. Today is…

You pick up the phone and dial a number that you hope still belongs to the same person.

“Steve?” you ask when the line clicks on.

“This is he. May I ask who I’m speaking to?” your cousin’s familiar voice sounds on the other end of the line.

“Steve, thank god! It’s Y/N,” you say, leaning into the speaker of the telephone, as if that action will somehow give you comfort.

“Y/N! It’s so good to hear from you. I heard that you, er…took Elvis’ offer after all,” he says.

“Yeah, I did...” you reply with a gulp.

“How’s it…going?”

You pause for a few seconds, taking a deep breath and releasing it before responding.

“I’d rather not talk about it, if I’m being honest. Besides, I called to say happy birthday anyway! How are things going in Burbank? How are you doing?”

“Good, good. Sharon and I got engaged last month, actually,” he says and you can practically hear the happiness in his voice.

“Oh wow!” you respond excitedly, although you can practically feel your heart cracking into a million pieces at the thought of being so utterly alone. “That’s so great! Congratulations, Steve! When’s the wedding?”

“Seven months from Monday,” he says. “You’re invited, of course. We’re hoping to send invitations out soon but work’s been a bit busy, you know, Christmastime and all that.”

“Oh…I guess it is Christmas time, isn’t it?” you ask, the realization suddenly hitting that you’re already two weeks into December.

“Unbelievably, yeah. But enough about me. I really would like to know how you’re doing? Is…he taking care of your bills and things like he promised? I…actually came up to visit a few weeks ago but couldn’t get backstage to see him.”

“You…were here? Why didn’t you come see me? You could have stayed with me?”

“I….”

“What?”

“Well, you weren’t there?”

Your eyebrows furrow.

“No…I had to have been here. I moved here and I live here now. I haven’t left in…” your eyes widen as you think about it, “well, months. I was definitely here.”

“That’s so strange…the hotel staff told me that you were gone on a trip. I thought-”

“The hotel staff? Which hotel staff?”

“I…can’t remember, honestly. It was some big guy with a nametag on, so I assumed he was a staff member. Why do you ask?”

“Because I'd bet money that the Colonel told him to lie to you. He knows damn well that I’ve been here for the last two years. Every day for the last two years.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know…”

A few seconds of silence pass and you momentarily wonder if you’ve been disconnected before Steve speaks up again.

“Y/N, be careful up there. The Colonel’s a very bad, very dangerous man. I think he’s taking advantage of Elvis and I’d hate to think that he’s doing the same with you. Maybe you should…”

“Should what, Steve? Please tell me.”

“Maybe you should just pack up and come home. If you’re still in that much need of money then maybe I can help you out again. I’m sure I can find something for you-”

“No, Steve, it’s alright. Everything’s fine. If I need anything, I’ll be sure to let you know. But everything’s fine, I promise.”

“If you insist. Damnit. Hey, listen Y/N, I gotta go. Apparently we’ve had a crisis at the office, but I’ll give you a call later, okay? Feel free to reach me any time. I’m here if you need anything.”

“Will do. Oh, Steve!”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you. For everything.”

“Of course.”

And the line clicks off. You put the phone down and curl into a ball on your bed, shutting your eyes and hoping to sleep through the next five days until Elvis has returned from his second US tour.

Sure enough, five days later, you receive news from the buzz around the casino and hotel that Elvis is arriving later in the afternoon. You feel intense shame and embarrassment about the fact that your entire being feels lit up with joy and happiness when you realize that you might finally be able to be held in his arms again. Nothing in you is even interested in being fucked or pleasured at this point. All you want is to touch his face, feel the softness of his hair, be held tightly in his strong arms, so close to his chest that you can feel his heart beat against your skin.

You wait all day for a phone call or a letter or something. You receive nothing. Not a damn thing. The next night passes the same and you wonder if he’s forgotten about you. On the third day, you decide to march right up to his room and confront him. Ironically, you finally get the call that afternoon, an invitation actually, to attend the late show that evening and then visit him afterward.

With excitement unmeasurable, you get yourself ready to meet him, all dolled up in your best makeup, which you take an extra hour and extra care to do perfectly, just the way you know he likes it. You also wear his favorite pair of lingerie and his favorite black dress. At the last minute, as you’re sliding a finger into your TCB ring, you get a lurching feeling in your stomach. You look up at yourself in the mirror and hold a hand up to your throat, dragging your fingers across the bare skin. It feels like something is missing, you know exactly what. Your outfit would be complete with it.

With a disappointed sigh, you make your way downstairs in perfect time for the show to start. You’re seated toward the back at a table almost in the darkness. You gulp in slight embarrassment before sitting down. While unhappy that it seems like Elvis is trying to hide you, you’re actually quite relieved to be sitting in the darkness with how you’ve chosen to dress and present yourself. Anyone passing by would probably automatically assume you’re some kind of prostitute. Isn’t that what you are, anyway? And should you feel more shame than you do?

You don’t have much time to speculate on it because the band strikes up a chord and the show starts. You smile. It’s been almost a whole year since you came down to enjoy a show. At the beginning of your residency there, you came down all the time to see his shows. But the novelty wore off quickly. The last time you attended a show was the vibrator incident...

This time, however, you actually find that you enjoy yourself quite a bit. With Elvis paying for everything, you order a full meal and a glass of wine. And without a vibrator in your panties, you can actually enjoy your meal and watch Elvis at his very best. You get to see an old version of Elvis. Not the man you'd known so intimately nor the one you’ve grown to despise over the past couple of months. This is the man you find yourself dragged toward, attracted to, entrapped by. This is the Elvis who got you to say yes so many months ago.

That is, until something happens, of course, to ruin all of that. You watch in horror as two random men from the audience run up onto the stage as if they’re going to attack Elvis. You jump out of your seat, your fingers flying up to your mouth as you watch, unable to do anything from where you’re seated. Luckily, they seem to just be overexcited fans. But you can’t help but notice Elvis reach into the tops of his boots for something, something you’ve definitely noticed he sneaks into his boots before he goes onstage. The guns. “Protection,” as he’d called it.

The two men are escorted out, walked right past your table. But you hardly even notice them. Your attention is held firmly on Elvis as his wild eyes fly around the stage and the audience. Your heart is pounding in your chest with adrenaline and fear. You reach up to feel it beat against your breast and feel overwhelmed by the sensation. Elvis stumbles around onstage, his face shadowed so that it appears hollow and haunted and…evil. He looks erratic, terrified and wrathful at the same time.

The reality of what could have happened hits you. You fall back into your seat as your chest starts to heave. Elvis could have died…been shot onstage. Suddenly, you’re thrown back to 1968 when you all watched Bobby Kennedy die on national television. All the fear from that moment, from watching someone’s life drain from their body, it all returns to you.

The show comes to an abrupt end when they escort Elvis offstage. You stand, grabbing your purse, and make your way toward the door where Stanley the security guard always stands. As soon as you approach, he holds up a hand telling you to stop.

“I’m sorry, Miss Y/L/N, but we’re not allowing anyone backstage right now. I’m afraid you’ll have to wait. It’s probably a good idea for you to return to your room for the evening. If Mr. Presley wants to see you, I’m sure he’ll call,” Stanley mumbles, offering a small smile.

“Thanks Stanley,” you say and return the expression. “Will you just tell him that I’m here for him. If he needs me, that is.”

“I'm not sure that's within my pay grade, ma'am,” he replies, but he must have noticed your panicked expression because he adds, "But I'll certainly do what I can."

With a deep sigh, you make your way back upstairs to your room, where you crash on the couch and drop your head into your hands. You only have a few minutes to sulk before you get a telephone call.

“Hello?”

“Hey, it’s Jerry. He’s asking for you,” Jerry says and you breathe a sigh of relief. You know Elvis hadn’t gotten hurt or anything but you are intimately familiar with how unstable his mental state is right now.

“I’ll be right up,” you say and hang up before Jerry even has a chance to say goodbye.

When you emerge from the elevator, you immediately hear raised voices, Elvis’ and a woman’s. You don’t even bother waiting to come in, desperate to see him, to know that he’s fine, that he’s okay. A flurry of emotions swirl around in your stomach. You’re angry that people would dare try to hurt Elvis, you’re angry at Elvis for being who he is, you’re frustrated that you even have to go through this, you’re terrified for his safety, you’re scared of what’s to come, and most of all, you’re griefstricken at the thought of living a life without him.

As you make your way through the massive rooms, the screaming stops. Your eyebrows raise as your gaze falls on Priscilla Presley walking straight toward you. She holds your gaze, her eyes full of anger. You don’t back down, though. Normally, you would feel awkward and guilty seeing her. But at this point, you’ve grown to become so unhappy and possessive over Elvis that you couldn’t give a flying fuck what she thinks of you. He’s unhappy with her, anyway, that’s why you exist in the first place. You raise your neck and stare her down as she passes. As she nears you, you watch as her anger quickly fades into grief, plainly displayed on her face. You know any normal person would be feeling some guilt at this moment but, in all honesty, you don’t feel anything. You don’t care.

You waltz into the room to see Elvis sitting on the bed, already half-undressed and just in a pair of boxers. You immediately approach him, dropping to your knees between his legs. You raise your hands to his face, gently brushing his hair back from his forehead. You push your thumbs into his skin to massage it a little.

“Mmm,” he hums in approval.

“Are you alright?” you whisper.

“Mhmm, just fine,” he replies.

── tw | scroll to the bottom of the post to skip ──

“Can I help, at all?” you ask in your most seductive tone, stepping in front of him and running your hands smoothly down his chest.

In all honesty, you don’t really want to have sex. You aren't feeling very sexy right now at all. But you can tell that he needs it, needs something. You wouldn’t go as far as to say that he needs you but…he needs something that you believe you can provide. He lifts his blue eyes to yours, they’re more grey these days except for when he’s onstage performing. He doesn’t react, but you can see in his eyes that he wants it. You gently push him back onto the bed, climbing on top of him and starting to press kisses to his hot skin. He barely moves, allowing you to manipulate him easily.

He’s still sweaty from being onstage but you don’t mind. You’re used to it at this point and besides, it’s sexy as hell. You kiss down his neck, dragging your lips between pressing them down. You trail down his chest onto his stomach.

When your finger hooks into the waistband of his underwear, he jerks to life. His fingers curl around your arms and he pulls you up and then spins you around, shoving the top half of your body down on the bed, a little harshly but not it's not painful. You assume the familiar position, arching your back and cooperating to step through your panties as he pulls them off. He slides the fabric of your dress out of the way and you wait patiently until he slides into your folds.

You wince and clutch onto the sheets on the bed. You’re drier than normal. You're far too emotional to get wet enough, even with Elvis Presley behind you. He doesn’t seem to notice or care, though, because he starts to pump in and out of you mercilessly. You bury your head into the sheets, biting and tugging on the fabric as he slides in and out of you.

The air is silent aside from the sounds of your skin slapping together and Elvis’ quiet groans. As he drills into you, you can feel yourself loosening up just a tad. You release a few strained moans from the combination of pain and pleasure. The friction isn't very enjoyable but you remind yourself that this is your job, this is what you are to him. That this can help you, too.

His speed increases and you feel a tear slipping out of your eye, but whether it’s from the pain or the emotion, you aren’t sure. His fingers grip into your hair, pulling your head up. You experience a moment of relief and moan loudly. You want so badly for this to feel good.

You tilt your head to the side and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Before, you loved the way you looked in the mirror as he was fucking you. You were so turned on, so desperate for him, so fucked out. Now, you just look worn, sullen. Used. You squeeze your eyes shut tightly, not wanting to face what you are. A slave to his sex. And now a slave to him.

Finally, you feel warmth flood your insides as Elvis finishes himself off. You twitch as you realize he's finished inside of you. He's never done that before. He grunts and leans over, his body weight pressing onto your back. When he rests his forehead between your shoulder blades, you feel your face screw up in grief. It’s so cheap, so pathetic, to grasp at this one moment of intimacy. But you do, all the same. He only remains there for a few moments before removing himself and going immediately into the bathroom. You remain in position until you hear the door shut and then fall over on your side.

Your shoulders begin to shake and you cry silently. Tears stream down your face, stinging your cheeks. When you pull yourself to sit up, you wince at the soreness of your heat. You reach down to touch yourself and bring a finger up. It's covered in a thick layer of Elvis' cum. The sight makes you both proud and ashamed, joyous and devastated. You invited him to do it and you don’t regret it. But...

───── tw ─────

You miss the man you used to know, the strong, passionate one you had fights with. The one who knew what he wanted, who he was, what you wanted. The one who cared, who took an interest in you, who had fun. This wasn’t sex between two people who wanted it. This was sex between an object and someone who just needed to feel something.

Your eyes lazily drift over to the framed picture of Lisa Marie and you think through everything that's happening. You wipe your tears away and sniff. Filled with intense rage, you stand and slam the picture face-first down onto the nightstand. You don’t want to see her. You don’t want her to see this. Why does she have to exist anyway? You stand with clenched fists, facing what you’ve done as your chest heaves. Suddenly, you’re filled with fear and panic. You kneel down and pick up the frame to see that the glass has shattered in a few spots.

“No, no, no,” you say as the tears start to steam down your face again.

You shakily lift some of the glass shards and attempt to piece them back together but it’s no use. You drop your head and the glass but not before one of the shards slices a small pinhole prick in your finger. Biting your lip in pain, you press your wounded finger to your chest and crawl back into the bed. You don’t even bother to tuck yourself in. You curl up into a ball and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping for sleep to take you away as soon as possible for as long as possible.

After a few minutes, you hear rummaging from the bathroom as Elvis comes back out. You don’t react when he touches you softly, so much softer than he was when he was fucking you fifteen minutes ago. You feel a warm, soft rag being drug over your body, cleaning up any bodily fluids that he’d left on you. You convulse when he hits your sore folds and he stops immediately, massaging his fingers into your shoulder. He doesn’t apologize, but gently, so so gently, presses the wet rag against you, dabbing up anything that might be leaking out.

Then, he’s gone again, only for a few seconds. When he returns, he gently lifts your legs and pulls the covers out from under them and then over your body. He tucks you in and then climbs in behind you, wrapping his warm arms around you. Normally, you would find this comforting and you’d be practically begging for this. But tonight, not so much. You really just want to be left alone, to vanish in thin air, to dissolve into nothing.

“You alright, baby?” he whispers, gently stroking your hair out of the way.

You squeeze your eyes tighter, not having the strength to respond. You hope he’ll just figure that you’re asleep. He sighs and gently strokes his knuckle down your cheek, pausing by your jaw. You feel him push his head against your neck and then the shudders of his body as he cries quietly. You feel your own tears slipping from your eyes, staining your cheeks with cold streaks of liquid. The last thought of the night is spent wondering how you both could have fallen so far.

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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rottentiger-art · 1 year

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tag people you would like to get to know better

Thank you @gigantomachy1916 and @litterateur97 for the tag!! It's crazy how much we have in common lol

1. Three Ships

Ooof, I got so many, I'm gonna put the three I'm currently obsessed with (bc I'm not sure I could choose just three as favorite)

Vegebul, my beloved, my OTP, the light in my life, the best anime couple imo

Trumai (yes, both versions), the successor of Vegebul, they have me in a hold just as strong as them, it's such a weird but fun pairing, I adore them

Hurrem x Suleiman (look at themmmmm) everytime suleyman spoke his poems to hurrem I melted, no ship has ever have such romantic quotes. Plus, i use a lot of their scenes for royal aus, it's just gold

I know you said three but I gotta give an honorable mention to Lawmane, who's ever present in my mind, even if I dont post about them as often as before. They would've been THE couple if only Misa hadnt fallen for that gay republican

2. First Ever Ship

I think it was either Sparrabeth or Quogan, I'm not too sure (Quogan was the first ship I've read a fanfic of tho). I'm still obsessed with both, maybe more than when I was younger. I remember wanting Spareabeth to be endgame and to know more of Quogan's life after the show's end, but now it's a NEED

3. Last Song

Funeral by Mon Laferte. It's an amazing song, it speaks of being in a loveless/passionless relationship and wondering how it got that way and wanting nothing more than for it to finally reach its end. My favorite part goes something like this: "While I prepare breakfast I feel so terribly alone, suddenly I want to die, I want to run away from you. I wish I was on the ocean, letting the waves carry me away, I want to stop breathing; dont wake me up, I want to keep dreaming about our funeral" not a perfect translation, but you get the point. The narrator feels so helpless and is so desperate to find a way put an end to that relationship, other part of the song reflects her regret on how they both let the relationship die and wishes she could go back in time and prevent it, but nonetheless their love has died and they're both wasting their time by still being together.

I listen to it a lot when I need to think an angst AU or something lol. But the singer is so good and shows such emotions through her voice, it makes me relate, even tho I've never been on that situation (thankfully)

If you want to get into Hispanic music, I definitely recommend Mon Laferte, she's one of my favorite artist, "Se me va a quemar el corazón" is another amazing song of hers that I recommend.

4. Last Movie

The Menu (2022)

Amazing movie, it was fun and light to watch and not to be taken too seriously + it has my gf Anya Taylor-Joy (ORGULLO ARGENTINO), I took a peek at its tag on ao3 out of curiosity and I'm embarrassed to say who I'm shipping now, but if you know me, you can probably guess

5. Currently Reading

Nothing new, I've re read my favorite books, The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry and Chronicle of a Death Foretold by GGM. The little prince was the first book ive ever read, I always heard it's a book you should read as a kid and then later as an adult, and my God, it's true, it's a completely different experience. 6 yo me thought it was a fun book about a man hallucinating in the desert, 24 yo me cred like a baby full of longing for a childhood I didn't appreciate and grief of the kid in me that inevitably died as I grew up and became an adult.

I never tire of reading CoaDF, everytime I expect the end to be different even tho the very beginning tells you what's gonna happen.

I dont have much time, so I choose those too bc they're a short read. However, I'm gonna start to reread asoiaf books too, bc I can never get enough of them

6. Currently Watching

Like I said, I have no time, so I stick to Sitcoms I can put on the bg while I work. I'm currently rewatching The Nanny, I forgot how much I loved it. And I swear, I'll start dressing as Fran as soon as I have time to buy new clothes, her style is just, mwah chef's kiss, obsessed.

And omg, I forgot how slow the burn in this show was, its Season 5 and they're still not dating!!!! Immabout to throw gasoline at them!!!!!

7. Currently Consuming

I ordered some Pizza, it should be here any moment, I'm sure you can guess why

8. Currently Craving

TIME PLEASE, I NEED TIME TO BREATH, I HADNT DRAW ANYTHING IN SO LONG AND ITS AFFECTING ME SO MUCH

I also need to finish my fic and socialize more. So I crave time, I need a vacation.

9. Tagging

@tomwise @emcads @littlewomenpodcast @mslilylashes ❤ anyone that wants to do it, feel free to!

#tag game #beloved mutuals #vegebul #trumai #hurrem x suleyman #lawmane #sparrabeth #quogan #mon laferte #the menu (2022)#anya taylor joy #the little prince #chronicle of a death foretold #cronicas de una muerte anunciada #asoiaf #the nanny #fran fine #idk what else to tag

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levmada · 9 months

Note

Hey Gee

These fic writers asks are really interesting! I don't know if 3 questions are too much but if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you about ✨- 🌈 - 💋

Thank you <3

hi syl!! forgive the long answer hehe :3

✨What's a fic you've posted you wish you could breathe life into again and have people talking about it? (or simply a fic you wish got more credit)

definitely this kid levi fic examining levi's canon relationship with kenny and how his ackerman powers were awoken

based on what it's about alone, it makes sense to me why (idk how else to put it) it wouldn't appeal to a lot of people + it's pretty long for a oneshot and contains some dark content.

BUT i speed-wrote it in like 2 days based off this constant fascination i had about what levi's "training" w/ kenny was like and like?? what kind of part did kuchel posthumously play in their dynamic. and my experience growing up just personally. plus i feel like i did a good job on it which is a lil rare for me

so yeah i wish i heard more about it? but at the same time i remember with EXTREME vividness the feedback i DID get on it from 2 people that i still think about when i dont feel confident about my writing, completely unrelated to the fic specifically. im extremely thankful for those comments. so i guess it's a case of quality over quantity if that makes sense.

🌈is there a fic that you worked *really fucking hard on* that no one would ever know? maybe a scene/theme you struggled with?

i’m going to answer this seriously but the first thing i thought of first is figuring out how scuba diving works from my old mer!levi longfic. i hardcore researched like?? oxygen poisoning? how long air tanks last and how to refuel them? the bends?? that was painful

but to be Serious™️ i started this kitty levi longfic in may 2022 that,,,,, i haven’t updated in about like,, forever (estimation). i think the reason i stopped working on it bc it turned into an INTENSE personal commentary on my own struggles and experiences - to process them i guess? but i kind of regret going that route bc it became mentally draining and just a lot.

i do plan to go back to it after my other longfic (danse macabre) is finished i think. maybe it’s rly weird bc it’s fanfic and narcissistic of me, but i ALSO place a lot of emotional Stuff into what that fic means to me, and i think once it’s done i’ll be in a better place to finish the kitty levi fic.

💋when you leave comments on a fic, do you want to hear back from the writer?

mmm it'd be nice if i did? normally my comments are keyboard smash so fjvrijori. ive heard controversy about it before tho, so the way i tend to think of it is, the writer didn't owe me the fic in the first place, it wasn't owed them for me to comment, so i don't feel one way or another about getting a reply if i leave a comment, but i’d be appreciative if i did. i just hope they read it and it made them happy lol

reeeall fic writer asks

#★play!★

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kyndaris · 1 month

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Way to Dawn

There is something to be said of old turn-based games with pixellated graphics. For many, they hark back to the good old days where things in the world actually made sense. In these halcyon days, things were simple. There was not as much grey in the world because everything was black and white. Unfortunately, as time has passed me by, games have become grittier with worlds as drab and bleak as the one we face in reality. Octopath Traveler, however, is a series that knows exactly how to tap into the nostalgia we have for our childhoods.

When the first game released in 2018, I was immediately hooked. In 2023, the second game came out. Due to the fact I was drowning in far too many lengthy games that released in the back-half of 2022, coupled with an overseas trip, and a host of other compelling titles, I simply could not find the necessary time to sink into Octopath Travler II. Enter January 2024.

After finishing off a few key games like Assassin's Creed: Mirage and Spider-Man 2 over December, I managed to eke out some time to give Octopath Traveler II my undivided attention. 90+ hours of it, in fact.

While I started with Alfyn in the original Octopath Traverl, this time I decided to go with my gut and pick my favourite class in almost every single role-playing game I've ever had the chance to dabble in: a thief. Unlike the happy-go-lucky apothecary, Alfyn, Throne finds herself trapped in an endless cycle of death. Her opening chapter sees her scurrying through the sewers of New Delsta with three other members of her gang, the Black Snakes. As the chapter progress, we see the internal struggle among the members of the gang before Throne is then confronted with a long-time friend as both are keen to escape the chains that bind them.

Despite the bleak nature of this first part, Throne's story is still one filled with optimism as she fights for freedom and to break free from the cycle that has kept her trapped for all her life.

From there, I slowly recruited the rest of the Travelers, starting off with Temenos and Osvald. From there, I jumped on a ship to Beastling Island, recruited Ochette and moved to the Eastern Continent - nabbing Castti, Hikari, Partitio and Agnea. The journey took me all across the world of Solistia.

Later, as the game progressed, I would hop to and fro from both continents as I chased after each dangling story thread for my odd band of characters.

And while I liked all of the stores, the two that stuck out to me belonged to Partitio and Agnea. Possibly because of how positive their outlooks were, and how undaunted they were of the cruelties inherent in the world. I know others on the internet may disagree but given the state of the world these days, I was in the mood for something light-hearted and fun.

Let's start with the Dancer shall we?

Agnea is a girl from the village of Cropdale. Her mother was a dancer and, like her, Agnea dreams of becoming a star. Her story, although simple, sees her travel all across the world to show off her dancing talent and bring a smile to people's faces.

Along the way, she meets a colourful cast of intrepid performers from Gil to Giselle's Travelling Troupe.

Of course, it wouldn't be a video game without a villain. And Dolcinaea serves as the perfect foil to Agnea's optimism. Hers is a tale of hardship growing up in the deserts of Sai, being inspired by Cuani (Agnea's mother) and working hard to become a star to take her away from her roots. But while she views her past with disdain and wishes to eradicate it, Agnea is there to remind her of the people her actions will affect, culminating in a dance battle at the Grand Gala in the Merry Hills region.

Plus, there's some fruity goodness along the way with a few key lines between Veronica and Dolcinaea.

Who doesn't like an uplifting journey, anyways?

As for Paritio...where to begin?

If all merchants were like him, I'd think the world would be a much better place. Growing up in a silver mine, Partitio has experienced both prosperity and the depths of poverty when the former land owner of the silver mine takes back the land and levies a huge tax on the silver that is mined in the area. Crushed underneath the weight of oppressive capitalism, Partitio and his gang of friends push back against the enforcers (including a man named Giff - which felt like it was ripping off Biff from the Back to the Future series).

From there, Partitio seeks to do away with the devil that is 'poverty' and seeks out a means to make money but also give back to the community at large. He does so by buying the rights to the steam engine. But not before securing himself a grand sum of 80 billion leaves!

And instead of running away with the money, makes good on his promise to make the world a better place.

While there are some forums that declare Partitio as a capitalist in the truest sense (where human greed does not enter the equation and people know how to share the wealth), I thought many of his ideas somewhat left-leaning. True, he is no communist but Partitio is a person who understands the plight of the common-man and knows how to utilise the talents of those around him to the greatest benefit. More than that, though, he is filled with empathy for those around him and isn't shy to splash his own money around to improve the lives of those around them by 1. giving them a living wage and 2. not push people down in order to get ahead.

Plus, when his theme starts playing and the saxophone kicks in...you know you've got a winner on your hands.

I also really liked Agnea's Song of Hope theme. But I'm also a sucker for any fiddle or string instrument. Which is also why I'm in love with Throne's and Osvald's themes. And that is something else I wanted to praise about Octopath Traveler II. The music! My goodness, the music!

Both Octopath Traveler games are scored by Yasunori Nishiki and he is a genius when it comes to composing such great music. There is something so magical about all the tracks in Octopath Traveler II that I loved.

And that's saying a lot because I very much enjoyed the tracks of the game. Heck, I even bought the CD for the first game and had my mother play it while we drove back up from Melbourne.

The music also proved great at selling the emotion of the song and kept the story aloft, proving to be very poignant at several points. It always kept me engaged during the boss battles. Such a shame it was overlooked at The Game Awards in 2023. I'm sure Flute Guy would have kicked it out of the park if Octopath Traveler II had been nominated for Game of the Year. He certainly was living his best life when Xenoblade Chronicles 3 was nominated and was grooving out to Tears of the Kingdom.

But back to the story of Octopath Travler II. Like the first game, the stories of the Travelers are connected to a central antagonist. But whereas Galdera was a hidden boss hidden behind several side quests, after finishing off each of the Traveler's stories and the Crossed Paths storylines, the Travelers come together and ACTUALLY interact with each other.

When the world plunges into darkness, the Travelers soon piece together that the Moonshade Order was behind it all. Together, they set about re-igniting the flames scattered around the world before confronting the big bad: Vide after Oboro sacrifices himself to the God.

And like many games of the past decade, Octopath Traveler II is a game that explores themes of despair and hope through the lens of nihilism. In fact, I was reminded very much of Danganronpa. True, we didn't have a crazy antagonist obsessed with despair, but we did encounter individuals who saw a cruel unforgiving world and gave into the darkness (or Shadow) within their hearts to quell the suffering.

It's a sentiment I can understand. Humans are cruel. Wars are started for petty reasons, be they for resources or simple pride.

Worse, we turn a blind eye to certain inconvenient truths. Especially if they would only serve to make us feel bad.

Sometimes it's easy to think: what would life be like if humans were all wiped out from existence?

Our Travelers, though, are made of sterner stuff. Despite witnessing atrocities, they continue to fight for the dawn. In their hearts lay a glimmer of light - of hope - for a better world. And in a video game, their actions do bring on positive change.

Together, they drive back Vide and look to the future. Thus bringing a happy end to it all.

But while the overarching story might feel quite simplistic, the themes explored in Octopath Traveler II, I felt were especially poignant. In each Traveler's story, we got to see elements of our current world - be it corrupt bureaucracy, the inherent greediness in humans or their lack of care for the natural world. Each time, though, the Travelers managed to triumph over their foes and bring new understanding.

It's a story I can get behind. And it's probably why I fell in love with Partitio and Agnea's story (but also, who wouldn't want to fight a steam train?)

Gameplay-wise, Octopath Traveler II doesn't stray too far from the first game. It does, however, have a few tweaks that make the game fun and exciting such as Latent Powers and character abilities. For example, Throne is able to increase the strength of all characters at the start of battle when it's night-time. Hikari, on the other hand, has access to learned skills which can be gained by challenging NPCs scattered around the world.

This brings a whole host of different ways to play the game and to optimise the party. Even as weigh in on when to use brave points to unleash on our foes and break past their shields or to hoard them for a devastating attack later on.

Combined in this way, Octopath Traveler II is a marvel of a game. True, there were moments where I felt the story was a little bogged down, but I certainly enjoyed my time with it. Better yet, it never felt like it was a grind. The 90+ hours I sunk into it flew by without me even realising it as my characters levelled up and grew stronger with each passing hour. Beyond these factors, it also added elements of fruitiness between NPCs but it never tried to shove it in the player's face.

Still, in my head-canon, Dolcinaea and Veronica are a couple. As are Temenos and Crick (before his untimely demise - but he was giving off mass death vibes in Chapter 3. Just saying), Pala and Mikka, and possibly Castti and Malaya (although Malaya, too, is dead).

Plus, I loved the dynamics between all the Travelers with Castti being the mum of the group, Osvald the dad, with the others being chaotic siblings.

#video games #octopath traveler 2 #agnea bristarni #partitio yellowil #throne anguis #temenos mistral #hikari ku #ochette #mikka x pala #dolcinaea x veronica #castti florenz

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tawus · 1 year

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Answering an ask that contains JJK manga spoilers

⚠️ JJK manga spoilers below ⚠️

Anonymous said:

1. The theory of Gojo having a rough childhood was actually cleared up by Gege during the Q&A interview in the Jump Giga Autumn 2022.

Q. Was Gojo treated kindly / lovingly as the head of the

Gojo family?

A. He was spoiled rotten.

☝🏻Really explains his bratty behaviour 😂

2. It was a really wholesome moment between Gojo & kid Megumi him telling Hana might fall in love with Megumi and rubbing the kid's head. (all the fan arts were right )

3. And you are right, when the shock value of Sukuna possessing Megumi dissipated , I couldn't take Sukuna seriously anymore with that emo haircut and Megumi's sea urchin hair gelled up back.(still sexy)

4. Kinda curious on how this Sukuna will play a part in the second part of Infidelity if there are plans on it.

5. Kashimo is interesting but dude has so many death flags for wanting to fight Sukuna .

6. And poor Hana & Yuko Ozawa who loves Megumi & Yuji for their personalities , they might have to witness both of their love interests dying and the boys doesn't even know about the girls' feelings.(btw Yuki x Choso was tragic)

7. And lastly we will see Gojo again sooner , i mean we saw the back of the PR held by Choso. Pretty sure it would be a " we won but at what cost "feeling when Gojo comes as things are not looking good for Gojo.

Tawus:

Wow. Wow! WOW! See, I'm gonna gush right here: since the start I've maintained that Gojo wasn't abused as a child. I was even going to write a shortfic about his childhood the way I envision it - in which he saw from his parents, elders, guardians, and servants: love, care, affection, guidance, compassion, generosity, and of course, their absolute spoiling of him. I've had both types of parents: violent/abusive and healthy/loving. And it's thanks to my healthy/loving parent that I got to see what non-toxic love and care is supposed to look like. If you've never received something, it's hard to know what it looks like. With Gojo, we can clearly see that he's a good guy. The way he cares and provides guidance and guardianship to all his students, starting with Megumi... With the absolute power he holds, if he was heavily abused as a child and never saw any love, I see him becoming a villain. A fantastic villain! But he's not. On the other hand, if he was just spoiled rotten and never saw any suffering, then he would have a hard time sympathising with the plight of others. But Gojo does. He has empathy, however imperfect. And I believe that this empathy was gained not through his own personal suffering as a child, but perhaps of the suffering he witnessed of his close childhood friend or someone near him at the time... These are all my speculations based on my own life experience and I was going to write a shortfic encompassing these, but I got put off from writing it due to the fandom's nearly collective agreement that he was abused... With Gege finally clearing it up, though, I'm glad to see I was on the right track. So thank you sm for sharing this with me! 💗

Agreed. I could gush all day and night over Gojo's relationship with Megumi ❤️

'sea urchin hair' lmaoo

Lol I'm curious too how this Sukuna thing will play out in the Infidelity sequel bc I absolutely did NOT expect that! Gege dropping bombs out here 😭

I'm so into Kashimo by now that istg, he better give up on fighting Sukuna and go live out his retirement in his shiny new body somewhere in the countryside 😭

Oh god I hope you're wrong! And god, Yuki x Choso was tragic

See, for all my above talk about Gojo not being a villain, my fucked up little heart that wrote Infidelity, secretly wishes for Gojo's reaction to all the deaths and losses once he comes out of the Realm to be to cause an apocalypse. Final manga panel: the whole world is burning. There are no more people, no more sorcerers, no more curses, no more students, no more suffering. The end ✨

#ask tawus #jjk manga #jjk manga spoilers #gojo's childhood

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crispylilworm · 3 months

Text

Top 5 Video Game Foods

The recent Watcher Top 5 Beatdown had me racking my brain and googling lots of pixel food images, love the different aesthetic, experience, and curiosity factors that went in to their lists. Though I'd share my own & would love to hear yours!

5. Sweetroll (Skyrim)

4. Lantern Fruit (Subnautica)

3. Creamy Heart Soup (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild)

2. Peach Pie (Animal Crossing: New Horizons)

1. Brewster's Coffee (Animal Crossing: Wild World)

Reasoning & honorable mentions below ^.^

5. I got into Skyrim late to the game, but my first character started as a Jean Valjean-inspired petty thief in the pursuit bread and cheese. Nothing looked quite as appetizing as those little sweetrolls. One of the many delightful discoveries I came across going in blind to an iconic game.

4. Red, plump, slightly bioluminescent - super versatile as either a food source or bioreactor fuel, but most of all a gorgeous addition to any base. Returning to base and taking a bite of a fresh lantern fruit was more just for roleplay than anything lol, but man do I want to have a taste in real life.

3. Figuring out recipes was one of my favorite parts of the unlimited exploration in the open-world Breath of the Wild, and nothing seemed tastier than the Creamy Heart Soup. I can just imagine how revitalizing it would be to slurp it down mid-battle. Something about video games making imaginary fruits just looks so tantalizing, and I'm always a slut for a good soup.

2. The craftable food update in New Horizons is what kept me around for nearly a 1,000-hour island. Something about how they would steam after you cooked and placed them just looked so good. The cute aesthetics of the food items could warrant its own top-10 list for me, and the Peach Pie was as good as it got. I got the Switch game in 2022 well after the pandemic peak. Neither me nor my friends had peaches on their islands, and I was not about to pay to trade with someone - I never actually attained this beauty. My island had lined fields of crops and a farmers market with baked breads and jarred goods, she would have been my star centerpiece.

1. This is mainly an experience-based choice for me, but I imagine the taste would be phenomenal as well. 10-year-old me was unaware of changing DS settings to play different dates, so the once-per-day cup of coffee was a cherished moment. At the time I did not even know what coffee tasted like lol. The thought of drinking a scalding hot beverage scared me but I did not want to disappoint Brewster by letting it cool past its peak flavor. And Saturday nights when KK Slider was there?? Highlight of my week. Honestly that whole atmosphere of having a tasty little drink and watching a local live performance is exactly the vibe a look for as 28-year-old still. I wish I could go back and see how many hours I put into Wild World, I literally COMPLETED that game before I had access to the internet to look up how to find things - it was my cozy place.

I had too much fun putting this together lol honorable mentions has no cap idc, also no proofreading we die like men!

Honorable mentions: Yeto's Soup (Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess) - it took so long to make it must be the heartiest soup ever, Rare Candy (Pokemon) - if it can make my pokemon level up imagine ME, Lobster Thermador (Sims 2) - max level cooking meal I didn't think was real lol, Goopy Carbonara (Sims 3) - what's so goopy about it?, Crab and Egg Chinese Style (Cooking Mama) - a food I want to try and cook myself, Dubious Food (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild) - what flavor is 'dubious' exactly?, Cheesy Meat Bowl (Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom) - food that could instantly cure a hangover, Golden Apple (Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild) - does it even taste different?, Perfect Cherry (Animal Crossing: New Horizons) - I am allergic to cherries but I would risk it, Pink Cake (Stardew Valley) - so cute I NEED a taste, Light Faerie Sundae (Neopets) - faerie food looked tasty af the light sundae looked the best, Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans (HP & The Chamber of Secrets PS2) - Harry seemed so excited to find those beans I need to know why, 'Johnny Silverhand' Cocktail (Cyberpunk 2077) - beer + chili + tequila sounds awful I want a taste, Big Bang Burger (Persona 5 Royal) - I want to taste of Okumura's finest, NukaCola (Fallout) - if it doesn't taste like Diet Coke nuclear apocalypse isn't worth it, Klawf al Ajillo & Pickled Toedscool (Pokeomon Scarlet/Violet) - I want to taste the forbidden meat o.O

#watcher #top 5 beatdown #skyrim #animal crossing #subnautica #legend of zelda #this was probably the first beatdown i had strong opinions #always respect the list but mine is better sorry

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mimzy-writing-online · 2 years

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Who Was Helen Keller: Her Passions and Interests

Welcome to part two of my mini-series on Helen Keller. I took a Disability in Literature class in Spring 2022 that focused heavily on her legacy.

In Part One, I explain the tools and accommodations Keller needed to navigate the world as a Deaf-blind woman.

In Part Three I will discuss the controversies you stumble upon when you research Helen Keller.

In this class I've learned that the idea we have of who Helen Keller was is not entirely accurate. A lot of people either see her only as the seven year old at the water pump, a scene made famous by the film The Miracle Worker. Or, they see her as this elderly woman who could do no wrong and only wanted to help others, that is the image the American Foundation for the Blind and other similar charities and organizations popularized.

There is about fifty years of interesting content lost in that disconnect and I'm going to bring some of it back. Helen Keller was a writer, a socialist, a suffragette, a dog-lover, a nature enthusiast, and a performer.

I'm going to show you pictures from her life and give you samples of her writing and let you hear her voice.

Writer

In her lifetime, Helen Keller published The Story of my Life (1903); The World I Live In (1908); My Religion (1927) and Midstream My Later Life (1929). There were also more than a dozen small essays published on the subject of socialism and labor rights.

While she was studying English literature at Radcliffe college, she was assigned small autobiographical writing prompts. Her professor liked them so much that he suggested she publish them and got her in contact with the editors of The Ladies’ Home Journal.

“The first part of The Story of My Life was written in the form of daily and fortnightly themes in English 22 at Radcliffe College under Professor Charles Townsend Copeland. I had no idea of publishing them and I do not remember how Mr. Bok became interested in them. I only know that one morning I was called out of my Latin class to meet Mr. William Alexander of the Ladies' Home Journal If I remember rightly, Mr. Alexander said that Mr. Bok wished to publish The Story of My Life in monthly installments. I told him that it was out of the question, as my college work was all I could manage. His answer surprised me. "You have already written a considerable part of it in your themes."

"How in the world did you find out I was writing themes?" I exclaimed. He laughed and said it was his business to find out such things. He talked so optimistically about how easily the themes could be connected to form magazine articles that, without having a very clear idea of what I was doing, I signed an agreement to furnish the Ladies’ Home Journal with The Story of My Life in monthly installments for three thousand dollars. At the moment I thought of nothing but the three thousand dollars. There was magic in those three words. In my imagination the story was already written.” (Midstream My Later Life, Chapter 1, Tuning In, pp. 4-5)

After graduating college, Keller collected all the published pieces of The Story of My Life and sat down to organize them into a full autobiography. After rigorously editing the book, she republished it with new additions, including Anne Sullivan’s letters from her early education and copies of letters she had written when she was a child still learning language.

The money Keller received from publishing her autobiography allowed her to buy her own home in Wrentham, Massachusetts. A few years later she published more autobiographical essays detailing her own experiences navigating the world. It wasn’t just touch, sound, and taste. There are essays about everything she can understand about a person just by touching her hand, about vibrations and what they tell her, about her dreams. These essays were published as a collection and titled The World I Live In.

In the 1910s she published essays on socialism which I will explore more thoroughly in the next section.

Between 1927 and 1929, Keller sat down and chronicled all that the last thirty years had brought her in life, the highs and lows. In it you will find accounts of how she struggled with her career as a public speaker

Socialist

Keller was first introduced to socialism through New Worlds of Old by H. G. Wells, published in 1908. The book was recommended to her by Anne Sullivan, her teacher.

“I read it on Mrs. Macy’s recommendation. She was attracted by its imaginative quality, and hoped that its electric style might stimulate and interest me. When she gave me the book, she was not a socialist and she is not a socialist now” (How I Became a Socialist, 1912).

After finishing New Worlds of Old, Keller approached John Macy for new material. John Macy was Anne Sullivan’s husband and Keller was living with the couple at the time. Unlike his wife, he was an avid socialist with a mini-library of socialist literature. Keller subscribed to multiple socialist magazines. A few times a week a friend would visit her home and read the magazines to her via the manual alphabet.

The world did not respond to Keller’s socialism with delight. Newspapers ran wild printing out articles to respond to this. Some articles speculated that someone was using Keller like a puppet, piggy-backing off her fame to promote the socialist cause. Others argued that Keller’s interest in socialism was a sign of ignorance that stemmed from being deaf-blind and depending on someone else to tell her about the world around her. Macy and Sullivan were often accused of “poisoning Keller’s impressionable mind” with their socialist views. Another argument was that Keller’s interest in socialism stemmed from a deficit in her critical thinking abilities.

As Keller saw it, capitalism generated an abundance of human misery through exploitation. The extreme hours and intensity of labor meant failing health and early death for many. It meant that even when laborers returned home they had too little time to sleep and recover, let alone enjoy their free time. There was no time for family or caring for the home, meaning that living environments were unsanitary and worsened moral.

Keller also recognized that her family’s wealth and her education had given her a privilege to not experience this exploitation herself. But knowing she was safe from that suffering, an exception, was not a comfort.

“I know those men are hungry for more life, more opportunity. They are tired of the hollow mockery of mere existence in a world of plenty. I am glad of every effort that the workingmen make to organize. I realize that all things will never be better until they are organized, until they stand all together like one man. That is my hope of world democracy. Despite their errors, their blunders and the ignominy heaped upon them, I sympathize with the IWWs. Their cause is my cause. While they are threatened and imprisoned, I am manacled. If they are denied a living wage, I too am defrauded. While they are industrial slaves, I cannot be free. My hunger is not satisfied while they are unfed. I cannot enjoy the good things of life that come to me while they are hindered and neglected.” (In Behalf of the IWW, 1918)

And reading that, it’s easy to say “those are pretty words, but did she do anything for them?” Yes, she did. Just giving them her voice gave the IWW a platform. Keller was widely looked upon with admiration, her vocal support was one of the best gifts she could give to social justice causes. Moreover, she utilized the critical thinking skills she developed in college to reason with readers to see the necessity to support those causes.

Here is a link to the Marxist Archive where you can read Keller’s essays discussing socialism

Suffragette

Helen Keller entered her twenties in 1900, graduated from a women’s college in 1904, and became increasingly interested in human rights from 1910 and onward. Unsurprisingly, she was a suffragist. The fight to get women the right to vote was just as important to her as every other fight she participated in.

[Image Description: A newspaper clipping. The headline says: “Helen Keller Riding in the Great Parade of Suffragists in Boston Campaign.” Pictured in black and white is Helen Keller on the left beside another unidentified woman. Both women are wearing hats, and with the sun shining on their backs it casts shadows on their faces. Below the photo is the caption that says: “Helen Keller, shown at the left, was unable to see the crowds that lined Boston’s downtown streets for the recent suffrage parade, in which she was photographed, but her face beamed with smiles as she ‘heard’ the cheers for ‘votes for women’” End Image Description]

(Photo Source)

On June 11, 1916 Helen Keller spoke before the newly formed National Women’s Party, a political party focused on women’s suffrage. From this speech is where the quote “women’s inferiority is man-made” originates but this is my favorite part of the speech:

“The suffrage movement means more than votes for women. It stands for our solidarity. It embodies the ideals and aspirations of the millions of women who think, and whose intelligence and capabilities both men and women respect. We have prayed, we have coaxed, we have begged, for the vote, with the hope that men, out of chivalry, would bestow equal rights upon women and take them into partnership in the affairs of the state. We hoped that their common sense would triumph over prejudices and stupidity. We thought their boasted sense of justice would overcome the errors that so often fetter the human spirit; but we have always gone away empty handed. We shall beg no more. With the ballow [bludgeon or club] in our hands, we demand suffrage for all women.”

(Transcript of Speech)

Keller was famously a pacifist who spoke out against entering the war during World War 1, but this call to arms (metaphorical arms) delights me.

Animal Lover

All her life Helen Keller had dogs by her side. From her earliest childhood years before Anne Sullivan, to her final years, she adored and doted on her dogs.

“Nobody, who is not blind, as much as they may love their pet, can know what a dog’s love really means. Dogs have travelled all over the world with me. They have always been my companions. A dog has never failed me.”

[Image Description: Ten year old Helen Keller in a white dress standing beside a chair. Sitting on the chair is a medium sized dog with a brown and white coat. The dog’s white chest and floppy ears are especially fluffy. Helen has her left hand touching the back of the dog’s neck while her right hand sits at her side. The background is a painted drop cloth used as a background in professional portraits. End Image Description]

Perkins could not confirm which dog this was, but their best guess is that we’re looking at Belle, the dog Keller described as her best friend in her childhood years.

[Image Description: Helen Keller between the ages of thirteen and fourteen. She is sitting with a bull mastiff by her side. The dog’s name is Lioness and she has a dark, shiny coat with a white streak crossing down her forehead and covering her snout. Lioness is positioned behind Keller, lounging with only her head and one front leg visible. Lioness gazes directly at the camera while Keller has her head positioned at a profile angle, chin up. Her hair is down with curls framing her face. End Image Description]

When Helen was attending Radcliffe College, some of her classmates took her on a small adventure into the city with the end goal of surprising her with a gift.

Another episode I like to recall was a surprise my class planned for me. One day several girls invited me to go with them to see some jolly friends in Brookline. That was all they would tell me, and when we reached our destination, they were very mysterious, I began to sniff, and in a moment I realized that instead of a human habitation we were entering a kennel, the abode of many Boston terriers. The dogs gave us a royal welcome, and one ugly beauty, heir of a noble pedigree, with the title of Sir Thomas Belvedere, bestowed upon me his special favour, planting himself resolutely at my feet, protesting with his whole body if I touched any other dog. The girls asked me if I liked him. I said I adored him. "Take him home then," they said. "He is our gift to you." Sir Thomas seemed to understand; for he began spinning round and round me like a top. When he had quieted down a little I told him I did not care much for titles. He assured me that he had no objection to changing his name, and when I told him that I was going to call him Phiz he rolled over thrice by way of showing his approval. So we carried him happily back with us to Cambridge. (Midstream My Later Life, You Oh Youth, page 18-19)

[Image Description: Twenty-two year old Helen Keller sitting while Phiz, a Boston bull Terrier sits on the table beside her. Keller is leaning forward and pressing her face to the dog’s side while her hands wrap around his chest. The dog has a dark coat with a white snout, chesk, and paws. His ears are short and pointed. Keller’s eyes are half closed while the dog looks off to the side. End Image Description]

[Image Description: Twenty-five year old Helen Keller sitting down with her body turned towards the black French bull terrier. This dog is assumed to be Kaiser, and his attention is fully on Keller, looking up at her fondly and bending his head forward to ask for more pets. Helen has her left hand touching the back of Kaiser’s neck, temporarily paused to hold still for the photo. Keller is wearing an Edwardian blouse with three quarter sleeve and a lace collar, as well as a striped skirt. Her clothing and the backdrop of the portrait are both light in color, making Kaiser stand out. End Image Description]

[Image Description: Helen Keller, Anne Sullivan, and Polly Thompson sitting on a fainting couch with a Great Dane named Sieglinde sitting in front of them. Sieglinde has a light coat with darker markings around her snout and ears. All three women are dressed in black dresses with white accents, each wearing her hair in finger waves, a style popular to the twenties. Thompson has her arm wrapped around Sullivan’s shoulder while Sullivan rests her hand on Keller’s. End Image Description]

In 1937 Helen Keller traveled to Japan for the first time. While there she first heard of akitas, a dog breed in Japan, and heard the story of Hachiko. “During her visit, she heard about Hachiko, a famous Akita who had died two years earlier. Hachiko was renowned for his exceptional loyalty. The dog had accompanied his owner to the train station every morning and met him there again every afternoon. Then one day, while away at work in Tokyo, the owner passed away. But that didn’t stop Hachiko. Until his own death almost ten years later, Hachiko went to the station every single evening to search for his beloved owner until his own death.” (link to American Kennel Foundation article quoted)

The Japanese government gifted Keller with an akita puppy named Kamikaze-Go.

[Image Description: Helen Keller and Polly Thompson fawn over an akita puppy named Kamikaze-Go. The dog is standing on his hind legs with his front paws balanced in Polly Thompson’s hands. His head is pressed up to Keller’s chest as he looks up at Thompson. Kamikaze-Go has light fur with dark markings around his snout and ears. End Image Description]

Keller was enamored with him, calling him “an angel in fur.”

Unfortunately Kamikaze-Go contracted canine distemper and died at seven months old. We modern dog lovers are lucky because now there’s a vaccine to prevent tragedies like this. Keller was devastated.

Two years later the Japanese government acquainted Keller with Kamikaze-Go’s younger brother, named Kenzan-Go. It was love at first sight. Keller nicknamed him Go-Go and doted on him. Through watching her, the American public became aware of the akita breed and began to love them too. Akitas became more popular in the U.S., became a recognized breed, and entered dog shows.

[Image Description: Helen Keller and Polly Thompson are seated together on a fainting couch, the same one from the photo of Keller, Sullivan, and Thompson over ten years ago. Go-Go lays on the ground by their feet. He has a medium colored coat that appears to get darker along his back and his ears. Keller’s right hand is wrapped around Thompson’s hand. Thompson looks almost directly at the camera while Keller looks to the side. End Image Description]

Nature Enthusiast

Keller’s love of nature started long before Anne Sullivan arrived in her life. Growing up on a post-Civil War plantation, there was an abundance of fields and gardens for Keller to explore on her family’s land. Keller’s most used senses were touch and smell and she received an abundance of stimulation in the fragrant gardens surrounding her home.

“I never smell daises without living over again the ecstatic mornings that my teacher and I spent wandering in the fields, while I learned new words and the names of things. Smell is a potent wizard that transports us across a thousand miles and all the years we have lived. The odor of fruits wafts to me my Southern home, to my childish frolics in the peach orchard.” (The World I Live In and Optimism - Chapter Six. Smell, the Fallen Angel)

In this chapter of The World I Live In, Keller approaches the subject of nature conservation, firmly planting herself as someone who believes the exploitation of natural resources such as lumber strips Mother Earth of the natural facets that make her so enjoyable to live on. The message is not new, Native American tribes have advocated for the preservation of natural resources for centuries and practiced sustainable living long before colonization began. Keller is adding her voice to the fight, and doing it in an emotional, sentimental way. She takes you through the moment of realizing the forest you love has been stripped into pieces for industry.

“The other day I walked toward a familiar wood. Suddenly a disturbing odour made me pause in dismay. Then followed a peculiar, measured jar, followed my a dull, heavy thunder. I understood the odour and jar only too well. The trees were being cut down. We climbed the stone wall to the left. It borders the wood which I have loved so long that it seems to be my peculiar possession. But today an unfamiliar rush of air and an unwonted outburst of sun told me that my tree friends were gone.”

When Keller bought her first home in Wrentham, Massachusetts, she had dreams of having her own farm. She kept chickens, had a horse, and planted an apple orchard. She wasn’t exactly skilled at farm labor, and in fact had more failures than success on that front. However, that relationship with nature gave her genuine happiness.

In Midstream My Later Life you’ll find mentions of adventurous hikes she took with Mark Twain on his property, getting lost and having to wander onto the main road to find their way back home.

“We [Keller with Anne Sullivan, her husband John Macy, and Mark Twain, referred to as Mr. Clemens] wandered on and on, forgetful of time and distance, beguiled by stream and meadow and seductive stone walls wearing their autumn draperies of red and gold vines a little dimmed by rain and snow, but still exquisitely beautiful When we turned at last, and started to climb the hill, Mr. Clemens paused and stood gazing ever the frosty New England valley, and said, "Age is like this, we stand on the summit and look back over the distance and time. Alas, how swift are the feet of the days of the years of youth." We realized that he was very tired. Mr. Macy suggested that he should return cross-lots and meet us on the road with a carriage. Mr. Clemens thought this a good idea, and agreed to pilot Mrs. Macy and me to the road, which he had every reason to suppose was just beyond that elephant of a hill. Our search for that road was a wonderful and fearsome adventure. It led through cowpaths, across ditches filled with ice-cold water into fields dotted with little islands of red and gold which rose gently out of the white snow. On closer inspection we found that they were composed of patches of dry goldenrod and huckleberry bushes. We picked our way through treacherously smiling cart roads. He said, "Every path leading out of this jungle dwindles into a squirrel track and runs up a tree." The cart roads proved to be ruts that ensnared our innocent feet Mr, Clemens had the wary air of a discoverer as he turned and twisted between spreading branches of majestic pines and dwarfed hazel bushes. I remarked that we seemed to be away off our course. He answered, "This is the uncharted wilderness. We have wandered into the chaos that existed before Jehovah divided the waters from the land. The road is just over there," he asserted with conviction. "Yes," we murmured faintly, wondering how we should ever ford the roaring, tumbling imp of a stream which flung itself at us out of the hills. “There was no doubt about it. The road was just there "where you see that rail fence." Prophecy deepened into happy certainty when we saw Mr. Macy and the coachman waiting for us. "Stay where you are," they shouted. In a few seconds they had dismembered the rail fence and were transporting it over the field. It did not take them long to construct a rough bridge, over which we safely crossed the Redding Rubicon, and sure enough, there was the narrow road of civilization winding up the hillside between stone walls and clustering sumachs and wild cherry trees on which little icicles were beginning to form like pendants. Half way down the drive Miss Lyon met us with tearful reproaches. Mr. Clemens mumbled weakly, "It has happened again the woman tempted me." I think I never enjoyed a walk more. Sweet is the memory of hours spent with a beloved companion.” Midstream My Later Life, Chapter 4, Our Mark Twain pp. 61-63)

In The Story of My Life you’ll read about the outdoor lessons Anne Sullivan took Keller on, her first jaunt into the ocean, her experience riding horses and hiking through the woods with Sullivan and her sister.

“One summer I had my pony at Fern Quarry. I called him Black Beauty, as I had just read the book, and he resembled his namesake in every way, from his glossy black coat to the white star on his forehead. I spent many of my happiest hours on his back. Occasionally, when it was quite safe, my teacher would let go the leading-rein, and the pony sauntered on or stopped at his sweet will to eat grass or nibble the leaves of the trees that grew beside the narrow trail. On mornings when I did not care for the ride, my teacher and I would start after breakfast for a ramble in the woods, and allow ourselves to get lost amid the trees and vines, with no road to follow except the paths made by cows and horses. Frequently we came upon impassable thickets which forced us to take a round about way. We always returned to the cottage with armfuls of laurel, goldenrod, ferns and gorgeous swamp-flowers such as grow only in the South. Sometimes I would go with Mildred and my little cousins to gather persimmons. I did not eat them; but I loved their fragrance and enjoyed hunting for them in the leaves and grass. We also went nutting, and I helped them open the chestnut burrs and break the shells of hickory-nuts and walnuts—the big, sweet walnuts!” (The Story of My Life, Chapter 11)

Performer

In 1919 Helen Keller was offered the chance to play herself in a silent film about her own life. Taking a break from her hectic lecture tour, she traveled to California with Anne Sullivan, Polly Thompson and her mother, Kate Keller.

The film was a bit of a mess. The script was getting edited every day as producers drummed up new wild ideas to keep the audience interested. The film was a Frankenstein creation of fiction, documentary, and theatrical.

“We had not been long at work before we began to realize that there was very little drama in the story of my life. The chorus that surrounded Mr. Platt suggested that a mystical unfoldment of my story would be more interesting than a matter-of-fact narrative. When he said that it would be impossible to film they chanted that nothing was impossible to those who tried. - "Can't you see," they wailed, "that there has been no romance in Helen Keller's life no lover, no adventures of the heart? Let her imagine a lover and follow him in fancy. The picture will be a dismal failure without excitement" One of our experiments in getting excitement was to introduce a fight in which Knowledge and Ignorance contended fiercely for my mind at the entrance of the Cave of Father Time. The whole company went out to find a suitable location for the battle, and a spot that seemed fairly appropriate was chosen about forty miles away among the hills. It was more exciting than a real prize fight because one of the combatants was a woman. Ignorance, a hideous giant, and Knowledge, white and panting, wrestled on the hillside for the spirit of the infant Helen. I held my breath when Ignorance hurled Knowledge over the cliff, wondering what insurance we should pay her if she was dead. Ignorance, laughing a bloodthirsty laugh, stretched his mighty limbs on the hill, while wild surmises ran from tongue to tongue. After what seemed an eternity, Knowledge's pale brow appeared above the edge of the rocks. Apparently she was only a little breathless from her precipitous descent and laborious climb back to the battlefield. The fight recommenced fiercer than ever. Finally, Knowledge got Ignorance at a disadvantage, her floating garments having entangled him and thrown him to the ground. She held him down until he gave a pledge of submission. The evil genie then departed with a madman's glare of hate into the shadows of the earth, while Knowledge covered the infant with her mantle of conscious light. The mystic vapours of this performance distilled into an overflowing cup of optimism. It was now clear to the dullest of us that there was no limit to what might be wrought into the Helen Keller picture. Why waste time on a historic picture when the realm of imagination was ours for the taking?” (Midstream My Later Life, Chapter 12, I Make Believe I am an Actress, pp. 195-196)

How did Helen Keller act in her own scenes, you might ask…

“We worked at the Brunton studio under the direction of Mr. George Foster Platt, who was most patient with me. He devised a signal system of taps that I could follow and allowed plenty of time for Polly Thomson to interpret his direction to me. After general directions had been spelled into my hand, I was supposed to go through the action with the help of signal taps. "Tap, tap, tap" walk toward the window on your right "Tap, tap, tap" hold up your hands to the sun (a blaze of heat from the big lamps). "Tap, tap, tap" discover the bird's cage; (I had already discovered the cage five times). "Tap, tap, tap" express surprise, feel for the bird, express pleasure. "Tap, tap, tap" be natural. In my hand impatiently: "There's nothing to be afraid of ; it isn't a lion in the cage it's a canary. Repeat" I was never quite at my ease when I posed. It was hard to be natural before the camera, and not to see it at that! I had little skill to throw myself into the spirit of the scene. There I sat or stood for a picture, growing hotter and hotter, my hands more and more moist as the light poured upon me. My embarrassment caused my brow and nose to shine unartistically. Instead of putting on a winning smile, I often discharged all life and intelligence from my countenance, and gazed stiffly into vacancy. When I became too absorbed in a difficult detail, like writing in large letters suited to the screen, I unconsciously frowned, and I believe that only the good nature of those about me saved my reputation for amiability. Besides, we had to go to the studio twice a day, and that meant "making up" and "unmaking" each time.” (Midstream My Later Life, Chapter 12, I Make Believe I am an Actress, pp. 189-190)

The film itself did not sell well. The film had reached too far into the absurd to keep audiences entertain. After its failure, Keller returned home. The next year she was given the opportunity to tour with Vaudeville.

Vaudeville, generally, is a type of theatrical performance for comedy. The Vaudeville tours in America were actually very much like what you imagine a circus would be. The show had dancers, musicians, acrobats, clowns, jugglers, animals, plays, and celebrities.

As a celebrity, Keller would give brief performances on stage with Anne Sullivan. Sullivan would explain how the manual alphabet worked, she would demonstrate translating for Keller, and Keller would repeat what Sullivan had said. Afterwards there was a time slot for questions.

“We returned to our home in Forest Hills and for two years lived quietly. But we were faced with the necessity of earning more money. The funds my friends had provided for my support would cease with my death, and if I died before my teacher, she would be left almost destitute. The income I had I could live on, but I could not save anything. In the winter of 1920 we went into vaudeville and remained until the spring of 1924* That does not mean that we worked continually during all four years. We appeared for short periods in and around New York, in New England, and in Canada. In 1921 and 1922 we went from coast to coast on the Qrpheum Circuit. It had always been said that we went into public life only to attract attention, and I had letters from friends in Europe remonstrating with me about "the deplorable theatrical exhibition" into which I had allowed myself to be dragged. Now the truth is, I went of my own free will and persuaded my teacher to go with me. Vaudeville offered us better pay than either literary work or lecturing. Besides, the work was easier in an essential respect we usually stayed in one place a week, instead of having to travel constantly from town to town and speak so soon after our arrival that we had no time for rest or preparation. We were on the stage only twenty minutes in the afternoon and evening, and the rules of the theatre usually protected us against the friendly invasion of the crowds who used to swarm around to shake hands with us at the lectures. My teacher was not happy in vaudeville. She could never get used to the rush, glare, and noise of the theatre; but I enjoyed it keenly. At first it seemed odd to find ourselves on the same "bill" with acrobats, monkeys, horses, dogs, and parrots; but our little act was dignified and people seemed to like it I found the world of vaudeville much more amusing than the world I had always lived in, and I liked it. I liked to feel the warm tide of human life pulsing round and round me. I liked to weep at its sorrows, to be annoyed at its foibles, to laugh at its absurdities, to be set-a-thrill by its flashes of unexpected goodness and courage.” (Midstream, Chapter 13 The Play World, pages 208-209

Given what I said about it not being unlike your expectations for a circus, you can imagine why friends were concerned about Keller’s participation in the show. They believed that she was being exploited and turned into a “freak show,” which was completely at odds with all that Keller had tried to accomplish for the disabled community in decades past.

In terms of performance, Vaudeville wasn’t much different from the lectures Keller had toured cross-country to give in the 10+ years prior. The biggest difference was that the audience wasn’t so restricted, meaning that people who ordinarily couldn’t afford to attend her lecture before could afford it now. Vaudeville also had a labor union to protect the rights of performers and provide benefits.

“The audiences always made us feel their interest and friendliness. Sometimes many of them were foreigners, and could not understand what we said, but their applause and sympathy were gratifying. After my teacher had explained how I was taught, I made my entrance and gave a brief talk, at the end of which the audience was allowed to ask questions. Some of them were very funny. Can you tell the time of day without a watch? Have you ever thought of getting married? Have you ever used a ouija board? Do you think business is looking up? Am I going on a trip? Why has a cow two stomachs? How much is too many? Do you believe in ghosts? Do you think it is a blessing to be poof? Do you dream? There were hundreds of them. I am always intensely conscious of my audience. Before I say a word I feel its breath as it comes in little pulsations to my face. I sense its appreciation or indifference. I found vaudeville audiences especially easy to speak before. They were much more demonstrative than most others, and showed instantly when they were pleased.” (Midstream, Chapter 13 The Play World, pages 214)

Advocate for the Blind

After four years Keller left the Vaudeville stage. Though she took joy in the energy and atmosphere of the stage, it did not make Anne Sullivan happy.

The American Foundation for the Blind (AFB) was founded in 1921 with the mission to represent the blind. They planned to advocate for accessibility and equal rights as well as source funding into research for the blind. In 1924 they hired Sullivan and Keller as ambassadors to raise interest in the AFB. The offer of steady-income was too good to resist.

The downside of working for the AFB is that they needed to please the men with deep pockets, capitalists who would be offended if Keller brought up socialism. If Keller wanted to generate enough funding to help the blind community get access to accommodations and education, she would have to set aside her politics, smile, and play nice.

Through the AFB, Keller was able to travel to new countries, speak to world leaders, and generate charitable donations to held the entire blind community. In return, the AFB provided Keller with both income and housing. After Polly Thompson died, they provided care-givers to help Keller through her day to day life even after she stepped away from the public eye.

They currently hold the largest online archive of Keller related content, including correspondence between her and others, newspaper clippings, transcripts of her speech, photos and much more.

You can visit the Helen Keller Archive here

About the author of this post:

Hello, I’m Mimzy. I run a writing advice blog and my most popular subject is teaching writers how to better write blind characters. This includes helping them build interesting blind characters, determine the limits and skills of their characters, brainstorm accommodations for them (especially in fantasy and sci-fi stories) and avoid ableist tropes and phrasing. I am a visually impaired writer and currently I’m in university studying English literature and Disability Studies.

#helen keller #disability history #socialism #anne sullivan #vaudeville #image description

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torscrawls · 2 years

Text

Splitting Up and Coming Together

This is written for Dannymay 2022 day 11 - Blood Blossoms.

Maddie and Jack has found a great way to stop their food from coming back to life; blood blossoms! But why is Danny having such a bad reaction to it?

Jazz just wishes their parents would stop trying to kill her brother.

Also available on my AO3!

Word count: 2,570

I finished the short fic I published earlier, I hope you like how it goes! :)

-----

Jazz carefully poked the fried chicken with her fork, exchanging an incredulous look with Danny from across the table.

The stillness of the food in front of them was putting her on edge. Their parents had always been quite bad at keeping the ectoplasm out of the kitchen, but it had gotten progressively worse over the years; especially lately when they had been distracted by a new project down in the lab and only paid half a mind to what they were doing outside of it. It had gotten so bad that Jazz had taken over the cooking for the most part—something she would gladly do to make sure they were all as safe as possible. But tonight, they had insisted on cooking.

And the food wasn't moving.

It was almost enough to make her suspicious, but the relief won out and she decided that not making the most of this miracle would be a waste. So she dug in.

After another second of hesitation, Danny enthusiastically joined her.

To her surprise she found that she actually quite liked it. She gave her mom and dad a smile and a, “This is really good!”

“Thanks, honey! What do you think, Danny?”

Danny cleared his throat. “It’s good.”

Maddie and Jack exchanged a pleased look. “I told you it would work!”

Danny gave a small cough. And then he coughed again. And again. He put down his fork with a frown and tried to clear his throat.

Their dad’s smile dimmed slightly. "Dann-o, you ok?"

“Yeah, yeah, I’m—” He was interrupted by another cough.

Jazz put down her own cutlery as she watched her brother worriedly. “Danny?”

"I—" Cough. "I don't feel too good. I think—" Cough. "I think I’m gonna be sick."

And then he bent to the side and puked.

Jazz instinctively recoiled in disgust, but her worry only intensified. Ever since the accident Danny didn’t really get sick. Not if there wasn’t something interfering with ghosts involved. Something was wrong.

Maddie immediately went over to where Danny sat hunched over and patted his back with a worried and kind, "Oh! Honey, what's wrong?? Did you catch something at school?”

Jazz sat frozen in her chair as she thought about their parents’ new fascination with flowers. Their past week in the lab, experimenting with them. Danny’s retelling of what had happened when he had run into a certain kind of flower before. It wasn't that hard to come to a conclusion. "Mom? Dad? What's in the food?"

"It's chicken!" Came Jack’s happy answer.

They didn’t have time for this. “Are there blood blossoms in the food?”

She could see the way Danny tensed at her words, his eyes going wide beneath his bangs.

Maddie looked up from where she was kneeling next to Danny to give her a surprised look. “How do you know what blood blossoms are?”

Jazz usually tried to play dumb—to not let on in front of their parents on how much both she and Danny truly knew about things related to ghosts—to protect him and his secret. Danny would no doubt chew her out for this later, but right now she needed to make sure he was okay. She could deal with the rest later.

“Wow, Jazzy-pants!” Jack exclaimed with a big smile as he set a bucket down in front of a pale Danny. “You’re so smart! Maybe you are starting to take an interest in the family business after all!”

“Can you answer the question?!” Jazz fought down her panic to plaster a smile on her face and continue with a forcedly calm, “Please?”

Maddie nodded as she continued to rub Danny’s back comfortingly. “Well, yes, there’s some blood blossoms in it to make sure that there isn’t any living ectoplasm in the food.”

Jazz felt herself go cold.

“Smart, huh?” Jack puffed out his chest proudly.

Jazz met Danny’s wide and terrified eyes across the table.

“Yeah, genius,” Jazz said as she did her best not to let her panic show.

Maddie continued, oblivious to her children’s reaction, “We know how much you kids hate the food occasionally gaining sentience, so we decided to do something about it.”

Of course this was the only time they listened to them. And of course their solution only hurt Danny more. Of course.

And it hurt because Jazz knew that they did it for them. To keep them safe. But since they didn’t have the whole picture, it had backfired.

Danny leaned over the bucket with a groan and Jazz got to her feet. She had to solve this. And fast. "What would happen to a ghost if they ate it?"

"Don't worry princess! No spook will ever get close enough to eat Fenton food!"

"No, I—What would happen??"

"Well they would die!" Maddie said cheerfully as she rubbed Danny's back.

"Is—" Jazz swallowed down her panic and tears. "Is there an antidote?"

"Why would there be?” Maddie asked with a tilt of her head, eyes kind and completely devoid of the kind of reassurance Jazz desperately needed in that moment. “After all, we want to eradicate every last one of them!"

Danny heaved again and Jazz flinched.

"Aww, Dann-o!" Jack reached down to ruffle his hair. “Let’s get you to bed.”

A solution! She needed a solution, now!

Something that would stop this, that would make it all just go away. But it was already in his system, wasn’t it? If only there was a way to separate—Wait. "Where is the catcher??"

Jack looked at her with a startled expression. "What?"

"The ghost catcher?!"

"Why do you…?"

“Please!” And she must have sounded as desperate as she felt because they took pity on her.

“It’s down in the lab, next to the cabinet in the corner,” Maddie said with a patient smile.

“Alright.” Jazz gave a resolute nod and bent down to loop one arm under Danny’s shoulders. To her own surprise, she managed to get him up even as he was practically hanging limp in her hold; eyes vacant and a pained expression on his face. He did try to help by getting his legs under him to walk, but they didn't really cooperate. Still, somehow, she managed to move him—it helped that he practically weighed nothing.

Maddie and Jack followed behind, trying to ask her what was going on, trying to take Danny away from her but she tuned them out and her desperation combined with a flood of adrenaline-fueled strength—probably combined with some intangibility—made sure that they both reached the corner where the ghost catcher stood.

She was suddenly very grateful for the lengthy lectures their parents always subjected them to when it came to their inventions as she knew exactly how to activate it. And before Maddie and Jack could do much more than contribute with more background noise, she had showed Danny through it.

Fenton fell to the floor and Phantom flopped down beside him. Both groaning. "Uuugh."

"Phantom?!" Maddie exclaimed with surprise and anger and then she whipped a gun out of nowhere and aimed it right at her son.

Jazz wanted to kneel next to her brother, to check on him and see if her desperate plan worked, but instead she placed herself in front of their parents with her hands wide. "Stop."

By now, Jack had also managed to find a gun and was joining their mom in training it on Phantom, who was still on the floor. "Young lady, that's a dangerous ghost!"

"No." Jazz shook her head, arms still out. “He’s my brother. They are both my brother!”

Phantom rolled over to his side and Maddie made a noise of distress as she took a step to the side to try and get a clear shot. Jazz stepped with her while keeping her gaze jumping between Jack and Maddie. It succeeded in drawing their mom’s attention as she swore and said, "Jazz, step aside. I don't know what lies he's been telling you, but—"

"He hasn't told me any lies." And Jazz was surprised at the steel in her own voice, but she didn't back down. She refused. "You guys stand back. You’ve already done enough harm today.”

That made them hesitate slightly.

Jack frowned at her and Jazz counted the fact that he took his eyes off Phantom as a win. "Jazz. This isn't a game."

She raised her head higher, kept her arms up, and said, "I am well aware.”

Maddie gestured at the human Danny on the floor with a frustrated expression on her face. “Your brother is right there!”

“Put your guns down and we’ll talk,” she insisted. Then she softened her voice and tried to appeal to their sympathy, “He’s not in any condition to fight. You can see that.”

As if on cue, there was the sound of retching behind her.

Jazz turned her head slightly towards her brother, but didn’t take her eyes off their parents as she asked, “You good back there?”

In response she got two chorused and matching groans, then a distinctly echoing, “Fuck. Yeah, I think it worked. At least I don’t feel like I’m melting anymore. You?”

And then a less echo-y, “Like getting hit with one of Skulker’s missiles, but not actively getting worse. So… win?”

Jazz felt herself relax slightly. Hopefully that was one problem dealt with, now there were just two left. Two still very armed problems.

She swallowed down her panic and tried to take a deep breath. She had to stay calm. “Put. The guns. Down.”

And to her immense relief, Jack actually lowered his gun slightly with a hesitant look at Maddie. “Honey? Maybe we can—”

“No,” Maddie said as she shook her head. An angry frown on her face. “What?! Don’t tell me you believe this?!”

“I don’t—” Jack began, but Jazz interrupted him with a resolute, “It’s the truth.”

An echoing voice from behind her gave a low chuckle that Jazz could hear the panicked edge to and said, “Yeah, I guess the cat is out of the ba—”

“Shut up, ghost!” Maddie cut him off, but Jazz could see the gun starting to shake in her grip. “And leave our little boy alone!”

“Mom, dad. Please,” the voice of human Danny pleaded from behind her. “It’s the truth.”

“Just. Can we talk?” she tried.

Jack looked at her as if she was the one who acted crazy. “You think we would talk with a ghost?!”

“You step away from our children!” Maddie added with dangerous anger in her voice, her hateful eyes still fixed on Phantom over Jazz’s shoulder. “Right now!”

They weren’t getting anywhere.

“If you don’t put your guns down you will not see me or Danny again.” She was almost proud of how calm she sounded, but she needed them to just stop and listen for once. And they must have picked up on how utterly serious she was because once again, she could see them hesitate.

This was their chance.

“Let’s just talk, alright? Nobody is attacking anyone. He’s not going to attack anyone.”

She turned to send a quick look over her shoulder to where human Danny was helping Phantom to sit up. “Right?”

Both Dannys nodded and Phantom gave her a thumbs up. “Yeah, no attacking.”

“You think we trust the word of that ghost?!” Maddie stared at them, but at least her anger had been slightly diluted by incredulity.

“Maybe you trust the word of your son?” Danny asked, sounding desperate. “You know for a fact that I’m not under any ghostly influence right now after passing through that. And I—And Phantom won’t attack anyone.”

To Jazz’s amazement this actually made both of them lower their weapons slightly, and even though they didn’t let go of them, at least it was a step in the right direction.

“If you make any sudden movements, you’re toast, ghost!” Jack threatened and Phantom raised his hands in the air from his position on the floor.

“Come on!” Jazz was unable to keep her frustration under wraps any longer. She just wanted to go to her brother’s side, but their parents were making everything so hard. As usual. “We were eating dinner together five minutes ago! This isn’t something new. He’s not gonna start attacking you now.”

Maddie scoffed. “You want us to believe that he’s been possessing our baby without us noticing??”

“He hasn’t been possessing anyone! You’re not listening!” Jazz could feel the tears flood her eyes, but she was powerless to stop them. She was just so done. “They are the same person! Phantom has always been Danny and vice versa!”

“That’s—” Jack hesitated. “That’s impossible.”

“Just like how everyone except you thought that ghosts were impossible??” Jazz shot back. She shook her head and felt the tears break loose and roll down her cheeks, but she refused to lower her arms to wipe them away. “I can’t believe you right now. Your son is hurt and you’re just standing here arguing!”

Finally, Jack dropped his gun to the floor.

Maddie sent him an incredulous look. “Honey? What are you—?”

Jack shook his head and placed his hand on her gun, lowering the muzzle to the floor. “Let’s focus on helping Danny first, alright? That—That should come first.”

Maddie stared at him in silence for a few tense seconds and then lowered her gun slowly. “You’re right. Of course.”

She didn’t let go of the weapon, but it was no longer pointed right at her son. Jazz figured that was as good as it was going to get. For now. So she turned to look at her brother—both of them—and asked, “You ok?”

Phantom gave an uneasy shrug, keeping his movements obvious and slow. “I mean I’m not being poisoned anymore, but I don’t feel great.”

“Ghosts don’t feel pain,” came Maddie’s immediate response.

Human Danny gave a humorless laugh. “Oh believe me, they do.”

“What are we gonna do now?” Phantom asked with a frown, looking down on his hands. “Am I stuck like this?”

Jazz grimaced. “Well, I guess we’re gonna have to… Get it out.”

Human Danny winced as he grabbed his stomach. “Oooh, that’s not gonna be fun.”

“Son, what is the meaning of this?” Jack looked between human Danny and Phantom with a frown. “I—I don’t really understand what’s going on. Are you okay?”

Both Danny exchanged a look and Jazz could see the conflict there and she felt guilt well up inside of her; she had put him in this position. "God, I'm so sorry Danny. I Just—I didn't know what to do. I couldn't let you just—"

“Don’t worry,” human Danny said with a kind smile that Jazz felt she didn’t deserve and then Phantom nodded and added, “I understand. Thanks for saving me.”

And despite her best effort to keep them at bay, those words brought the tears back into her eyes. Maybe she had made the right decision. Maybe she hadn’t fucked everything up.

Danny continued with a resigned, “I’ll explain everything,” aimed at their parents.

“Alright,” Maddie nodded hesitantly, “let’s talk.”

And at her acquiescence Jazz lowered her arms, turned around, took the few steps separating them, and scooped both parts of her brother into her arms, and cried.

#dp #danny phantom #dannymay2022 #phic #blood blossoms #Was this mostly an excuse for me to write angst + badass Jazz? Yes.#jazz fenton #my beloved #my writing

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