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moonctzeny · 3 years

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Cygnus

pairing: royal!ten x fem!reader x villain!doyoung

genre: angst, smutty elements but not anything too much

word count: 4,8k

warnings: ‘forced’ marriage, mentions of death, blood, stabbing (not too descriptive I promise), manipulation

summary: “When your father, the king, gets brutally assasinated in his royal quarters, you realise how big of a threat the opposing Indigo kingdom really is. In order to further protect both your kingdoms, prince Ten proposes a unification by proposing to you. Amidst your duty as his queen and your inappropriate meetups with your royal advisor, Doyoung, you’re not sure where your heart really belongs”

a/n: This fic has a lot of referencing of the past. Just to clarify: if a part is written in the past tense and is inside the separators, it’s y/n recounting past events

requested by/written for my dear French Anon ❤️❤️ I hope you like it 🥰

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The starry night spreads like a veil over the kingdom. Your kingdom, ever since your head was adorned with a veil of your own. The moonlight, pale and bright, illuminates all the stories of the night. From the mothers that kiss their children goodnight, praying that the impending war doesn’t find them in their adolescence, to the whispering silhouettes of the King’s traitors, plotting with the opposing kingdom to overrule his reign.

Like the weeping willows of your royal garden, you sit alone in the dance hall’s balcony, gazing at the sky’s unknown that always felt so comfortable to you. How dull and drab you must look, even in the ornate gown you were in, amidst all the decorations and joyous music of your wedding’s one year anniversary. Maids, peasants, guards- they all congratulated you on your happy marriage, wishing the queen a long life of prosperity. Even Sirius, the prettiest diamond in the sky, seemed to shine like a spotlight for tonight’s celebration.

“y/n? It’s time for our royal dance.”

You recognized the silky voice to be that of the King’s, your longest companion other than the stars. In spite of all of your misery, Ten, the man you swore to hold in weakness and in health, till death do you part, was someone you valued deeply.

You first met the prince in your early teens, travelling to his neighboring kingdom with your father. He was still a young boy, bothered with the blemishes on his face and excited to play with the snow covering the windowsills of his room. The only person who could relate with the insecurities and troubles of an heir like yourself.

“Why are the peasants hungry while we throw away most of our food?”

"Why does the Indigo kingdom want to declare war on us when we both have enough wealth to live on?"

"Do you think that when we grow up, we will become just like our parents?"

The prince was thoughtful and gentle, a pacifist in the wrong position. Talented in the arts, in dance, in anything that is as beautiful as he is.

His beloved subjects do not know it, but the nickname Ten, was given to him by you.

It was probably the third time you met the prince, excited to spend time with your only friend just a day before your 15th birthday. He had been bugging you over what you wanted from him as a present, the beautiful jewelry and dresses his father gifted you seeming too impersonal to him. You shook off his offers, insisting that him being there with you, in your castle’s terrace, was more than enough.

You were gazing at your beloved stars and he was gazing at you, rambling on and on about the celestial objects in the sky.

“And what star is this?”, he asked curiously, eyes reflecting the constellations and sparkling in the night. Chittaphon, unlike the countless teachers insisting astronomy for a princess was useless, was endlessly entertained by your knowledge and always thirsty to learn more. His finger was pointing at Deneb, one of the brightest stars of the night sky.

“This star is part of a greater ten-star constellation, Cygnus”

“Cygnus?”

“It means swan in greek”, you explained and he squinted his eyes cutely, trying to find the resemblance to the bird.

“According to greek mythology, Phaethon, the son of Helios the sun god, demanded to ride his father’s sun chariot for a day. Unfortunately, he

was unable to control the reins, forcing Zeus to destroy the chariot with a thunderbolt, with Phaethon drowning in the river Eridanus where it fell. Phaethon's lover, Cygnus, dived into the river for days on end to collect Phaethon's bones, in order to give him a proper burial. The gods were so touched by Cygnus's devotion and deep grief, that they turned him into a swan and placed him among the stars.”

Chittaphon, intrigued by the story, stopped plucking out the roots of the grass you were sitting on, and decided to lay his head comfortably on your lap. His hair looked so pretty that you couldn’t help but run your fingers through its softness, the intimacy making your heart skip a beat.

“That is my greatest fear”

You were so lost in your contentment that you’d almost miss his whispered confession. Placing your hands on his cheeks carefully, you turn his face so that he looks at you, and it takes everything in you not to lean down and kiss his pout away.

“Hm?”

“What if, when I finally take the reins of my father’s kingdom, I end up ‘drowning’ as well? What if I’m too weak to control them and someone stronger than me decides to destroy me?”

With a sigh, you look back up to the sky. As an only child and therefore sole heiress, the worry of leading a kingdom was the main cause of your night scares as well. You were just teenagers, still figuring out yourselves, but Chittaphon wasn’t some ditzy child. He didn’t care about the lushes and gold, he wasn’t power hungry. His idealism and ethos were admirable, and you felt safe knowing that when the time comes, he would be your ally.

“You’ll make a great king one day”

He smiles up at you, his happiness lighting up the night sky. He always shone the brightest.

“You really mean that?”

“I do. And if you don’t, I promise to collect your bones and bury you properly”

He laughed heartily at your joke, and you continued to braid his locks, counting the freckles on his face until your heartbeats synced with the other.

You just laid there, thinking the prince had fallen asleep in your arms, when he spoke again.

“I don’t know how, but one day I’ll gift you those ten stars. And it will be the best birthday present you’ll ever receive”

That’s how you got through adolescence, holding on to Ten’s promise, and dreaming of whatever life might offer you. And life seemed to be gentle on you, up until a couple of years ago. Up until the incident.

Ten takes your hand in his, rubbing your knuckles tenderly with his thumb, and leads you to the dance hall. The skin is scabbed and rough from you compulsively scrubbing it every time you take a bath. You’d watch the water endlessly run through your fingers, yet no amount of soap could flush the memory of the deep red of your father’s blood staining them.

It was a Friday like any other, a walk in the royal gardens at 6 and then your waltz dance class at 7. You replayed the new choreography over and over in your head, drunk in your instructor’s praises and wanting to show off. Skipping the steps of the stairwell leading up to the king’s room, you wish you had taken a jacket with you. Goosebumps started appearing on your arms, both from the cool night breeze and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on.

Your father was the reason you started waltz lessons. “One day you’re going to marry a man to queendom and you’ll better be able to keep up with me on our father-daughter dance”. You’d just giggle and tell him you had plenty of time till that day, you were just stepping on your twenties, no reason to step on a dancefloor too! But alas, one dance recital from Ten and your father was sold on the idea of getting you to take some lessons. You chuckled to yourself. Come to think of it, your father just really loved Ten.

You reach the heavy door of his suite, opened by just a slice. While there was light coming from the room, illuminating the hallway you were standing at, there was no one guarding it. You found it a little strange that the guard’s huge frame didn’t block your way from your father like he like always did, yet you were happy. Your father always acted colder to you around him.

“Dad, dad, look what I learned toda-“

The sight of his cold, lifeless body brought you to your knees. The cause of death was obvious, with the dagger shoved deep inside his guts, but if you asked anyone in the kingdom, they’d tell you he died from a bad heart. He loved heavy food, and alcohol, the meals suited to a king. No one other than a select few could know that the king was assassinated in his own bedroom.

But that was not your only secret.

You don’t know how, but Ten has managed to finally drag you in the middle of the dance hall. Your shoes clack against the marbled floors and the music brings you momentarily back to the now that you want to escape so badly. The music sounds familiar, you think, and you stay still for a second, trying to identify the song.

Your king brings you closer, one hand steady on your waist, the other keeping your fingers intertwined. He hums to the tune and looks at you with those eyes, those dark eyes that always hold a certain sadness in them. And when he starts to lead, it finally hits you that this is the song you got engaged to.

It was Ten’s idea, actually. With the rumours of a murder travelling to the neighboring kingdoms, including the Indigo kingdom making statements of invasive strategies against you, a form of alliance was clearly needed to be made.

He showed up to the royal conference room, all dressed up and holding a bouquet of red roses. You could hear his heart thumping as he approached you, his hands sweaty and clammy when he held yours.

“My queen, there is no denying our kingdoms are in a crisis”. His familiar voice was comforting to you, yet the words seemed too formal to be leaving Ten’s mouth. “The Indigo kingdom has indirectly declared war on you. They are powerful, especially with the weapons they possess. And their men are notorious to be ruthless and as cold as ice.”

You gulped visibly, your mouth getting dry at the thought of your people getting as violently killed as your father. Looking at any place possible other than his eyes, you wondered why he took the time to pay you a visit, just to point out the things that you were already more than worried about.

“My kingdom has great soldiers, skilled and apt in martial arts, yet they miss one thing, one thing that your peaceful kingdom can offer mine. Your servants love you, my queen, and they are willing to do anything for you”. He stops and takes a breath, handing you the bouquet he had been holding in his other hand. “I know I would”

The sweet scent that hits your nose matches his sentiment, yet the glossiness in his eyes -that you finally picked up the courage to face- told you things would get bitter soon.

“Are you suggesting we form an alliance for the war? Our kingdoms might be on good terms now, yet our predecessors used to be enemies for hundreds of years. There is still a lot of mistrust weaved in the hearts of the people.”

“I know”, he said, his voice breaking lightly. A thorn from the bouquet pricked your skin as you saw him fall down on one knee, a drop of blood falling from your finger as a teardrop stained your face. “That’s why I am asking for your hand in marriage. Let our kingdoms become one”

You were the one who said ‘I do’, yet the decision was already taken for you. Your whole life, in fact, was painted right in front of your eyes, hues of marsala reds and hunter greens. Hues like the ones Ten put on his palette almost every night before you go to sleep.

You and Ten had never slept together. He insisted that it was never his intention when marrying you, and he’d completely respect your boundaries. You’d be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t had a thought of laying with him, as you helped him remove the drying paint off his fingers every night. You couldn’t ignore the twitch of your sensitivity as he saw you changing into your silk robe and nightgown, nor the heat of your face when he called you beautiful. His pretty voice was made for begging and teasing and singing out moans. With his flexibility and core strength, you could only imagine what he’d be like in the bedroom. Just the image of his feline eyes looking up at you from between your thighs sent chills down your spine.

That being said, you always felt a bit annoyed by his chivalry as he slipped through to the guest room to spend the night. Through his proposal, he had ridden you of the chance to choose your other half, doomed you to endless nights of loneliness and a cold half of the bed. He should’ve at least taken responsibility.

Not even the guards could know that the two of you didn’t share a bed, the alliance holding on the thin thread of facade you played out for everyone. Sweet kisses in the breakfast room, fake smiles and the silent mourning of your freedom. But that wasn’t your only secret.

You see a hand tapping lightly the velvet shoulderpads of the King’s suit, causing you to halt your dancing. A man, about half a head taller than Ten, successfully steals his attention from you.

“My king, may I steal the lovely queen for a dance?”

Kim Doyoung.

Tall, nice-mannered, lethally handsome. Your father’s trustiest advisor ever since he turned 18 and one of the most respected men in the castle. If the king is the jungle’s lion, then Doyoung surely is a jaguar, attacking his enemies unexpectedly, emerging from their blind spot. He is also your secret.

Kim was the one who found you crying over your fathers body, notifying the knights of the murder since you had no voice to scream for help. He offered you a shoulder to lean on during your grief, while helping you manage the kingdom in your inexperience. It was inevitable to come closer to the man you spent countless hours with at the royal meetings, who you wined and dined with daily, who led you through your duties and made everything make a little bit more sense.

The attraction you felt for him however, well, that was on you.

It started one night, warm like this one, when the diplomatic settlements with a new kingdom took way too long to figure out, and the pair of you were stuck in his personal office at the early hours of the morning.

Your hair was a frizzy mess, eyebags darkening the thin skin of your under eyes and all you could focus on was the ink slowly spilling from the metal tip of your pen. And Doyoung, though hardworking and diligent as always, showed the signs of exhaustion as well, stretching his neck from side to side to release the tension.

A crack from his joints grabbed your attention, or rather his skin that was glowing in the limelight.

He was wearing a beautiful silk shirt, the fabric matching his rich stature and highlighting the delicate lines of his body. His collarbones, sharp like him, peeked from the buttons he had been unfastening, one by one, all the while keeping his eyes on yours.

Your mind wandered under his stare that did nothing short of stealing all oxygen from your lungs. Every slither of your bare skin that landed on it was starting to burn up, and you assumed that’s what his touch must feel like as well. You imagined unbuttoning the rest of his shirt yourself, giving his shoulders a little massage to help him relax. You’d run your hands down this torso, marking it lightly with your fingernails, until you felt that little line of hair right over his pelvis.

The thought is too sinful, so you return to the document in front of you, yet all of your concentration dissolves when the advisor suddenly places the back of his hand against your forehead. His touch is cool and refreshing against your hot skin, yet the proximity only raised the temperature of your body more.

“My queen, you look exhausted. Have you been sleeping properly since the… incident?”

You wince at the memory and shove it down your subconscious again, shaking your head as if the dark thoughts would just brush off of you.

“Not really. I keep tossing and turning. I lay on my bed and I just feel so- so lonely.”

Immediately realising how suggestive your words sound you put your hand over your lips, but Doyoung removes them, taking your raised hand in his and kissing the top.

“My duty as your advisor is to rid you of your worries, my queen. Apparently, I’m not doing a good job, so tell me”. You let your eyes fall on his plush lips, holding your breath as his sweet talk leaves them. He mouths the next words against your wrist, and you can feel every movement of his mouth against your sensitive skin. “What can I do to relieve your stress?”

You can’t stop staring at the smoothness of the junction of his neck so you leave a light layer of your lipstick on it, the pink hue against his pale skin reeling you back to reality.

“Advisor, this is not right”, you try to excuse, “I cannot allow myself to take advantage of your duties like that”

Your eyes stay glued on his neck, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs in a chuckle. He guides your hand, that is still in his grasp, and boldy places it over his thigh, your pinky finger grazing against a hardness that is most definitely his-

“Can’t you see what you do to me? What does a man have to do to be yours for the night?”

And that’s how he ended up tangled in your sheets every night, sneaking in your room silently so that the guards don’t notice him.

“It’s been one year, huh?”

You smell the citrusy after notes of wine in his breath, his lips slightly stained by the liquid. He looks just as addictive as the alcohol he consumed tonight, covered in the silk fabric that he loves so much.

“Have you been drinking again?”

“What else am I supposed to do when I see my queen dancing with that bastard?”

“That bastard is your king, yet you talk so lowly of him”

“And that king is your husband, but you were moaning my name on your wedding night”

You had changed into a white nightgown, the ivory dress discarded on your bathroom’s floor. The beads that were delicately weaved into the wedding gown sure were heavy, but that was not the reason you felt so suffocated in it. You had to sit there for hours, resenting everyone who made a toast for the husband and wife. The celebrations seemed endless, the wine abundant, their laughs maniacal. Your wedding ceremony was the image of luxury and opulence, yet you felt so poor.

Your feet led you to his room on their own, swollen and cut from all the dancing in heels. When Doyoung saw you, angry and choked up with all the injustice you felt, he offered to do what he was the best at. Distract you with his touches, his wet kisses, his sweet nothings.

A pang of guilt ran through you the moment your back hit the wall, his body trapping you between the cold surface and the overwhelming heat of his body. You wondered if Ten was still sleeping in your newlyweds’ suite, if he was pretending that he dozed off, what he was thinking. You knew you were selfish for only thinking about your feelings, as if you were the only one forced into this marriage. But then Doyoung’s fingers danced on the hem of your dress, and your mind would go blank with lust.

“This is wrong”, you said out loud, a statement directed mostly at yourself rather than Doyoung.

“You coming here?”

“This. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to come this close to you”

“Divorce him”

You blinked back at him a couple times, trying to register what came so nonchalantly out of his mouth.

“Out of all people, advisor, you know exactly why I can’t”

His hand slid upwards, following the heat of your core, yet his fingers never touched where you needed him most. Small indentations were formed on the softness of your thighs, caused by his rings, and you wished the marks would stay forever. The shirt he wore as his sleepwear was oversized on his small frame, the iris tattooed on his shoulder peeking out from the fabric, as if it flowered on his skin.

“Out of all people, my queen, you know I can give you so much more than him”

As if knowing you’d argue with him, he started to nibble the skin on the middle of your neck, forcing your voice to bubble out muffled and weary.

“But advisor-“

“Say my name”

He let the pad of his finger fick your clit, and you moan “Doyoung” out, the name addictive on the tip of your tongue. So you say it again.

“Doyoung, I need you”

You felt his grin clearly against your skin, you wetness dripping on his fingers and covering his rings. His next words came out with a gravelly sound:

“I might hurt you, my queen”

Your whole life was laid out in front of you, from the wedding ring that weighted down your finger, to you laying on your royal deathbed, looking back at a lifetime that was never really yours. A linear progression to unhappiness, but you hated straight lines.

“I want it to hurt”

Doyoung brings your body closer to yours, perhaps way closer than the etiquette allows, his hand on your lower waist sliding as near to your ass so as not to raise suspicion. He dips his head forward in a way that makes you think he’d leave a tipsy and careless kiss on your lips, but he whispers in your ear instead.

“Why haven’t you left him already?” The question is bold, especially between all these people, especially in the celebration of the wedding he asks you to break off. “I thought you said you’re mine”

“I am, but-“, your head moves towards the king’s direction, whose eyes are boring holes through the pair of you. You feel so small under his stare, suddenly feeling dirty.

“He doesn’t even love you”

There is a weird feeling bubbling in your stomach when you finally make eye contact with Ten, all his forms in which you’ve seen him through the years running in your mind. The innocent boy who became your best friend, the uncertain teenager who became your first love. The empathetic king, the mourning friend. The dependable spouse.

“But you do”, Doyoung concludes incredulously, his right eyebrow raised. It’s as if he tied together the pieces of a big jigsaw puzzle, the disappointment and anger and determination all trying to fit in his handsome features.

A hand draws your body away from Doyoung quite aggressively, and you quickly realise it’s Ten who has caught up with you. He intertwines your fingers together, pulling you into your previous dancing position but something is different this time.

“Times up. My wife’s too precious of a gem to let go of for longer”

Doyoung scoffs lightly, but hides it with a small bow to his king, leaving the two of you alone like he was asked. The tension between you and Ten is so thick it felt like all the lies you’ve told your kingdoms liquified into a thick substance that’s suffocating you now. His fingers are digging in your hips, in a possessive manner that’s a first for him, and he takes a deep breath before speaking.

“Do you ever think of me when you’re having sex with him?”

The question catches you so off guard that you ungraciously step on his feet, wobbling on your heels until he helps you find your balance.

“Why would you ask that?”

Now, you weren’t trying to play clueless, you know Ten is smart. You see the way he studies you and Doyoung, how he catches your secret glances, the electric touches. He surely has figured out where you sneak off every night and whose cologne you reek off the next morning. What you don’t understand, is where all his dislike for your advisor stems from.

Ten just chuckles bitterly, letting a puff through his nose, with a face of almost disgust when he looks at you.

“I don’t understand why I feel this way. I don’t understand why I care about you when you’re plotting with him against me. Why I feel jealous every time I see his filthy hands on you, or why I still think you deserve better.”

Plotting against him?

You’re left with a mouth gaped open, his harsh words both hurting you and confusing you as his voice gets even more strict than before.

“I thought maybe if I asked you to marry me you’d slowly distance yourself from him. I thought that maybe, just maybe, you reciprocate a handful of all the things I feel for you. But you still stay by his side, hanging from his every word”, he says it all in one breath and his eyes are watery when he addresses you again. “How can you sleep soundly next to me when you’re fucking the man that killed your father?”

A buzzing sound rings in your ears and you realise that you’re one breath away from falling apart.

And just like that, everything makes sense.

Why Doyoung was the first to find your father’s body, why the assasination seemed like an inside job. His sudden romantic interest in you and his pleas to have him as your king instead.

The indigo flower that decorated his body.

Ten shakes you a little, worried now at your sudden stiffness and the loss of blood from your face. He didn’t expect this reaction from you, didn’t expect to see your body shake with anger like this. You seem even more shocked than he was when he found out about Doyoung’s true nature, but, aren’t you the advisor’s accomplice in the plot of his overruling?

“Wait, all this time- you didn’t know?”

Ten’s eyes widen as his body jerks forward, and you barely manage to catch him in your arms. A woman’s shriek resonates in the dance hall; the musicians halt their playing with a scratchy sound of the strings that stretch out of tune. And then you see the blood, staining the marble floor under Ten in small drops. You also see Doyoung emerging from behind him, with a maniacal look on his face, and a dagger in his hands.

All hell breaks loose. The unarmed guests scream in fear, urging outside the dance hall in flocks. Glasses of wine shatter on the floor, women leave their heels behind in their hastiness to save themselves. You see the knights running in your direction, creating a shield of protection for you and the king, yet you notice that not all of them have gathered around you. A good part of them stand next to Doyoung, his face distorted in a mischievous grin. The extent of the betrayal in your kingdom shocks you, but when the first knight launches forward with his sword, you know you need to get Ten out of there immediately.

Throwing Ten’s arm over your shoulder, you drag him with difficulty all the way to the balcony, desperately trying to mute out the shrill sound of swords clashing in the process. You manage to bring him to safety, laying him down carefully in the same spot he found you in before, his head on your lap. After unbuttoning his shirt, you inspect the stab under his ribcage, and you swallow a scream at the sight of the deep wound. The most you can do is rip a big piece of cloth from your skirt, tying it up tightly around his waist, and wait until the fight is over.

You see clear drops falling on his face that is turning sickly pale and you realise you’re crying. Holding his face between your hands, you get reminded of those days you went starseeing, of those moments of absolute peace with him that you wished would last forever. His body is cold and the cloth is turning burgundy, but he has the most tranquil smile on his face as he looks up at you.

“Stay with me, please”, you sob over his rigid body, hugging it tightly as if his existence will just slip right through your fingers. “Live with me, and I’ll gift you all the stars in the sky”

#neowritingsnet #nct angst #ten angst #doyoung angst #nct scenarios #ten fic #doyoung fic #ten smut #doyoung smut #ten scenarios #doyoung scenario #ten imagine #doyoung imagine #wayv angst #chittaphon #wayv #nct

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surveys-at-your-service · 3 years

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Survey #467

“oh, mary, mary, ain’t this fun? / mary, mary, i’ve got a gun”

If the last person you kissed asked you to marry them, what would you do? Pray to god it wasn't in public and tell him it's waaaay too soon for that one. Does your favorite uncle have any children? Yeah, a son and daughter. Name all the members (first, middle and last names) from your favorite band. Ha, it's funny how once upon a time, I could do this. All I've got now is John Michael Osbourne. Have you ever heard a young child swear? Maybe? Have you ever seen someone get a piercing/tattoo?: Yes to both. Has a taste of something ever made you smile? Boy meet me at The Cheesecake Factory and see what my face does lmaooo As a child, what did you want to be when you grew up? I wanted to be a paleontologist sooo badly. I wanted to discover new dinosaurs, put a shitload of work into unearthing fossils and being so proud to see the final results... Even now as an adult, if I could handle the heat, traveling, and hardcore school, I'd still love to do that. Would you cuss the person you hate the most out to their face? No. My hatred for her is unjustified and I'd rather just not say anything to her. Have you ever spent more than two weeks in a wheelchair? No. Where do you see your closest friend in ten years? As one of the strongest people around. I imagine her with a job in medical coding, while also pursuing the hobbies of ball python breeding and writing. I'm sure she'll have loads of pets to love, too! Do you like Florence + The Machine? I've never listened to them. Did you watch the presidential debates? No. Do you ever watch Dr. Phil? No. Are you typically unattracted to people outside of your race? No; I can be attracted to any race. Have you ever ridden any animal other than a horse? No. Do you brush your hair when it’s wet? Yes. Do you eat the crusts of your bread? Yeah, I always have. Have you ever flown a kite? Yeah! At my childhood home, there was a tobacco field directly across the street, and when they weren't in season so the field was flat, Dad would help us with getting kites set up and in the air. Those are good memories. How are you for money? I don't make any money. Mom is struggling. Do you think you are more intelligent than the average person? Ha, no. Do you ever think about why we are here? Does it matter? We're here, so make the most of it. Do you like cherries? I fucking hate cherries. Name a celebrity that you admire that nobody would expect you to: Jeffree Star, probs. Can you use a yoyo? Not well, but yeah. Do you think Jenna Marbles’ videos are funny? I've actually never watched her. Do you like folk music? NOOOOOOOOO Ever had a crush on somebody of the same sex? Yes. Do you know any lesbians? Yep. Favourite member of your favourite band: I'm unfamiliar with all but Ozzy himself. And Ozzy is rad. Who’s your favourite female rapper? I don't have one. When you were younger, were you ever in a relationship with someone you now realize was way too old for you? No. Have you ever had a seizure? No. I sometimes have very, very quick spasms when I'm falling asleep that feel like what I assume a seizure would, but they barely last a second. They seriously jerk me awake, though, and are very startling. What’s the oldest man-made object you own? I dunno. Is there anything you feel like you need a break from? Not really, no. What do you hate to hear people joke about? I will actually and remorselessly deck you in the jaw if you make a joke about rape. There are other things that are absolutely forbidden joking matters for me, too. What’s the largest animal you’ve seen in the wild? Hmmm... Nothing that big, really. Maybe a whitetail deer buck? Do any of your friends or family members have strange occupations? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever been in weather so severe that you feared for your safety? Oh yeah. We've had some savage thunderstorms. What political issues are the most important to you personally? LGBTQ+ rights and just equality in general, the pro-choice movement, environmental conservation, gun control, the abolishment of poverty and homelessness... There is honestly a lot. I could keep going. Do you know anyone who doesn’t know how to cook even just simple recipes? ... Me. :x Especially now that I'm in a relationship, I really want to make a greater effort to learn. I want to prove to him I give a damn about the success of our relationship and that I'm capable of being an adult that can take part in general adult responsibilities. ^What’s stopping them from learning this basic life skill? Laziness. Forgetfulness. The fear of getting burned. What small thing makes you automatically distrust someone? I can pick up on sketchy body language from a mile away. I'm too paranoid not to. Of all the states/provinces in your country, which one is your favorite? At least from photographs I've seen, Utah appears BEAUTIFUL. That whole region of the U.S. in general. Are there any obscure foods you’ve eaten that most people have never tried? That's very unlikely. I'm far from explorative with food. When you travel to other countries, do you always try the local cuisine? I've never been outside the U.S. I would probably do that, though. I'd really want to experience the culture as thoroughly as I could. What did you do for your 19th birthday? Hell if I remember. What’s the kindest thing a total stranger has done for you? I remember as a young kid, my parents, two sisters, and I were getting food at McDonald's, and whoever was in front of us paid for our meals. Such a sweet gesture for a larger family. Have you ever used a meal kit delivery service? No, but there actually is one that I can't recall the name of that I'd like to try when I cook myself, especially getting started learning, but yeah, subscription fees. You see a lot of YouTubers get sponsored by them, if that rings a bell. Do you have any psychological issues rooted in events from your childhood? Possibly my fear of men, with my dad having been an alcoholic that had a 50/50 chance of being very angry when drunk. How organized are the files on your computer? Pretty organized, I'd say. I put stuff into folders. Would you date someone with braces? Yes? Do you ever rehearse conversations before you have them? Only always. Do you get angry at yourself or at others more often? Myself, for sure. When taking a cab, do you talk to the driver? I've never even taken a cab. Who or what greets you at the door every time you come home? Nobody, really. My cat is occasionally in the living room to see who's home, but not always because he's a lazy cat, ha ha. Do you ever chat about your favourite video games with your friends? Not really, no. I wish. Have you ever supported anyone’s Kickstarter? If so, what was it? No, bc I'm poor. Are you currently studying a language? If so, which one? No. Ever had a friend online for a long time without seeing a photo of them? Yeah. Do you carry pepper spray? No, but I want some 'cuz I'm paranoid as hell. Are you waiting on anything right now? No. Have you ever been described as shy? Is it true? Oh, always. It's absolutely true. Name something you’re a complete sucker for? Baby animals, to name one thing. Do you remember when you first went on the internet? Nope. What is one way someone could completely put you off on a first date? Arrogance/over-confidence. What about a way someone could make you like them more on a first date? Make me genuinely laugh a lot, to name one way. Are you in love right now? Not yet. I love him with our decade of history, but I need more experience as a couple before I've got the confidence to say that. Do you wanna get married anytime soon? It wouldn't be smart to. I want to be in a strong relationship for quite a few years before I want that. Have you ever kissed someone in a band? No. Has someone ever made you a Build-A-Bear? No but oh my fucking god I wish!!!!!! Did your mom or dad ever put soap in your mouth? No, but Mom would threaten to. What was the last fruit you ate? Well, I had strawberry yogurt earlier today. Who was the last person to make you laugh? Girt. He is very, very good at that. Have you ever dated someone with more piercings than you? No. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again? Hell yeah man. Is there one night of your life you wish had never happened? I wish it hadn't happened the way it did. Do you have a close relationship with your sibling(s)? No. What was the last thing that you shared? Some watermelon Sour Patch Kids with my mom. Do you think people talk behind your back? You couldn't get me to believe my mom doesn't at least sometimes to my sisters even if you tried your absolute damnedest. In real life do you laugh like ‘haha,’ 'hehe’ or something else? It depends on what I'm laughing at/at what intensity. Do you have any unusual skills? Nah. Who’s your favourite person? I don't have a sole favorite person. I love many people in different ways for varying reasons. Are there any chores you actually enjoy doing? No. When did you last have an "Oh, I get it now!" moment? Watching Attack on Titan yesterday w/ Girt. Have your parents ever suspected something untrue about you? My mom HAD to have suspected I was doing something FAR worse than innocent meerkat RP to have borderline fucking traumatized me invading my privacy and forcing shit out of me regarding what I was always doing on the computer so secretively. Like I get it, she was a concerned mother, but I was a fucking WRECK because I found it so embarrassing. It was insulting that she didn't trust her well-behaved daughter. What do you think about video games? They're great for both the creators and consumers. They're wonderful expressions of creativity, and so much fun to experience as a player, delving into a new world and getting engrossed in the story. I could go onnnn and onnnnn about what video games mean to me. I've gone my whole life as a loyal gamer. Are there any forms of Art you personally find pointless? I really, really don't get a lot of abstract art that's worth fucking thousands, BUT, I absolutely disagree that they are without purpose. The artist created what they did for SOME reason. As a distraction, a method of expressing emotion, to convey an idea... Are you tired right now? I have been SO ridiculously tired today. Like it's unreal. I've taken I wanna say three naps and I'm still sleepy. What’s something you do a lot? Drink something. I'm not talking about alcohol; just in general, I ALWAYS need some kind of drink by me, and I go through drinks pretty quickly. Are you currently on any other websites? Yeah, I'm watching YouTube. Are you good at using Photoshop? I'm decent, I guess. Have you ever been told you naturally tilt your head a certain way? Yes, actually, at least by my mom, and she's right. My head tends to tilt VERY slightly to the right, and I can tell by how easy it is to bend my head that way as opposed to left. I'll feel a biiiit more strain.

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''run rabbit run'' by rob zombie

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mkobooks · 3 years

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Interior Chinatown - Charles Yu

I guess my biggest regret upon reading this book is that I considered going into Singapore’s Chinatown Complex Hawker Centre for a snack and decided I didn’t feel like it. I deprived myself of that excellent “Reading Interior Chinatown while literally inside Chinatown” pic!

If I recall correctly, this book landed on my “to-read” after I saw it on a NPR Books “Best of 2020.” That said, what I expected this book to be about was entirely different from what it actually was. And what was it precisely? That’s sort of hard to answer and I feel is what makes this book either terrific and original or gimmicky and preachy.

Roughly, this is the story of Willis Wu, a wannabe movie star who’s stuck as a background player in the role “Generic Asian Man.” He really wants to be a “Kung Fu Guy” or to be recognized as more than Asian in the same way that “Black” and “White” are able to play nuanced characters that transcend their races. Throughout his struggle, he’s stuck in Chinatown where he grew up, living in near-poverty and taking care of his aging parents (also former actors). At some point he starts to break through a little, he meets a woman and gets married, and has a reckoning about what it means to be an Asian American:

“This is it. The root of it all. The real history of yellow people in America. Two hundred years of being perpetual foreigners.”

“What is about an Asian man that makes him so hard to assimilate?... Who gets to be an American? What does an American look like?”

At the same time, this isn’t a straightforward novel: the entire book is printed in “Courier” and large parts of it are designed to look like a screenplay. At times, it was difficult for me to distinguish which parts were what was really happening to Willis and which parts were his fantasy or dreams. Perhaps all of it was--the book was very post-modern in its satirical take on the Asian-American experience, the immigrant story, Asian portrayal in pop-culture, and the entertainment industry as a whole.

It was a very quick read (part of why I decided not to stop in Chinatown that day was that I thought I’d have another opportunity to do so!) and I finished it in little over a day. It was easily readable, and parts--in particular the story of how his parents moved to the US, established their own careers, and fell in love--were quite compelling. I just couldn’t get behind Willis. He was insufferable and became worse once he married a “white-passing” part-Asian woman. And, though the quotes above are moving, the entire sequence in which he comes to terms with his identity--written like the script of a very melodramatic court-room drama--didn’t quite land with me. They were a little too soap-boxy.

What is kind of wild is that this book was released in January 2020. I wonder what the reception would have been like if it had been released only a few months later. Reading now, in the wake of the “Stop Asian Hate” movement, it is a bit surreal in how on the nose the idea of Asians as a perpetual foreigner is.

On the other hand, I have a unique relationship with Asia and Asian culture. Not that I am complaining, but try being white in Asia! I could lay down roots here, become a PR, have kids who serve NS, 说中文 and bercakap Bahasa Melayu, and still always be a foreigner. It’s one thing to say that about Hong Kong which is ~90% Chinese, but Singapore prides itself on its diversity and racial harmony (despite also having a ~70% Chinese majority). It’s not the same of course; local people don’t treat me like a disease vector because I’m from a country that’s recorded 33mil+++ COVID cases, there is some well-deserved baggage from being a British colony, and being “Ang Mo” in Asia (or a laowai, gweilo, take your pick...) is still somewhat desirable in a way. Willis also addresses this:

“I’m guilty of it as anyone... romanticizing white women. Wishing I were a white man. Putting myself into this category... by putting ourselves below everyone, we’re building in a self-defense mechanism.”

And I feel that if you look at the Singapore subreddit, it’s not hard to find some of this “AMDK” sentiment .

But I’ve gone a bit off track. In the end, I thought this book was just OK. I don’t think I’d recommend it. Yet, I’d still be interested in more of what Charles Yu writes. There were some thought-provoking ideas, but it fell flat for me--which may just be because I live in Asia + I am not Asian American, so although I’ve heard similar sentiment from friends and from voices online, it’s not my story and not as poignant to me. Plus, I also hate reading Courier font.

Interior Chinatown by Charles Yu My rating: 3 of 5 stars

#books #just read #book review #interior chinatown #charles yu #literature #stop aapi hate #singapore chinatown #reading #2020 books #2021 reads

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missmarquin · 4 years

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A Love That Burns Like the Sun

Their love burns like the sun, seemingly forever until it blinks out. The moments before a star's death are always the strongest though and the older they get, the more they love and love and love.It’s been a long time since Sylvain has drowned in the darkness that was space. Sylvix, Oneshot, Modern AU. Read on A03 for better quality! ---

A Love That Burns Like the Sun

Sylvain’s waiting for his coffee to cool as he watches Felix flit back and forth, his chaotic energy filling the room as he readies for the morning. There’s a piece of toast in one hand and one leg in his trousers as the other tries to pull them over his hips. He trips in his haste, barely catching himself on the kitchen table. Sylvain doesn’t laugh, but he watches the familiar scene fondly, lips quirking into an amused smile as he settles into the hard wooden chair.

The kitchen set is the only thing he’d taken from his parent’s and not because it was theirs; no, his grandmother had left it for them in her will-- them, not him-- as one final fuck you to his father and the way that he deals with gay sons.

Of course, the words his father had used so many years ago had been far more colorful-- so colorful in fact that Sylvain’s grandmother had slapped his father across the back of the head before kicking him out.

“Felix,” Sylvain finally says, “Sit down for a moment. Have some coffee with me.”

Felix pauses. He’s finally shimmied his pants over his hips and there’s a bite out of his toast, his cheeks reddened with his haste. He snatches the food from his mouth to reply with, “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m already going to be late for work.”

“So be late then,” Sylvain tells him with a shrug.

“I can’t--”

“You’re the boss. You can do whatever you want.”

“My students, Sylvain,” Felix bites out. The words aren’t harsh, just punctuated and so very Felix in their tone. He puts a lot of stock into the fencing school and Sylvain loves that about him, he loves how much Felix loves his students.

There’s a but though, as there is with many things.

“How often do we get mornings together, Fe? Just the two of us?” Perhaps it’s a low blow, but Sylvain’s never claimed to be a good person, and judging by the way Felix pauses, it’s worked.

Felix drags a hand down his face, pulling at his skin tiredly. “Syl,” he sighs, eyeing the empty chair across from Sylvain.

“We never had a moment alone, darling.” Sylvain’s lips practically curl around the endearment and he sees the tremble of Felix’s lips. He’s got a retort ready to throw at him, but to Sylvain’s surprise, he drops into the chair instead.

“What’s another ten minutes?”

“Only ten?” Sylvain pouts at that, finally taking a sip of his coffee.

“You’re pushing it,” Felix warns, but it’s all bark and no bite. He reaches for a mug and pours his own coffee, wrapping his fingers around it to warm them. I only drink it black, like my soul, he’d once joked, years and years ago.

Felix had been wrong of course. If anyone had a soul as black as the night, it’d be Sylvain. He only showed his good parts to people, so practiced at wearing a false smile that fooled so easily. And even if it’s gotten better, even if it’s changed over the years, Felix was the only one who’d really ever seen him at his worst and maybe that’s why Sylvain loved him so, so much. He’d seen him amidst those dark moments, pulled him from them without judgement and he’d never left. He was still there, face still cranky and annoyed as ever, but he was still there.

“What?” Felix asks, vexed, and Sylvain realizes that he’d been staring. He’s always staring, really; was Felix just now noticing?

“It’s nothing,” Sylvain promises, flashing him a thin smile and Felix narrows his eyes at him.

“What’s wrong?” There’s a tinge of concern in his voice, just the tiniest bit and it makes Sylvain’s heart practically ache.

“Fe, it’s-- No really, there’s nothing wrong.”

“You were staring,” Felix tells him, concern bleeding into prickliness and as soon as it had come, the man’s worry is seemingly gone.

“Since when have I not stared at you?” Sylvain replies smoothly. Honestly and earnestly, and Felix’s eyes widen slightly as he sputters before turning away to hide the pink dusting across his cheeks. “Flustered even now,” he continues to tease. “Fe, we’ve been married for nearly fifteen years.”

Fifteen years, Sylvain thinks. Incredible and astounding, everyday better than the one before because he gets to wake up with Felix by his side. Their love burns like the sun, seemingly forever until it blinks out. The moments before a star's death are always the strongest though and the older they get, the more they love and love and love.

It’s been a long time since Sylvain has drowned in the darkness that was space.

“Idiot,” Felix mutters, sipping at his mug to stop himself from saying anything else.

“Forever and always.”

There’s a long moment before Felix speaks. “I know you Sylvain. What were you thinking about?” The question is quiet and probing in its approach, but Felix isn’t trying to back him into a corner. He always allows Sylvain to bolt if he wishes.

“Us,” Sylvain answers immediately. Felix blinks, opening his mouth to reply, but Sylvain raises a hand. “Goddess Fe, nothing bad. Just…” His words fail him as he fingers his mug, the warm ceramic a balm across his cold skin. “It hasn’t been easy for us,” he finally says, “But look at us now. I get to wake up with the morning and watch you trip over yourself as you get ready, every day.”

“How mundane,” Felix snorts, dropping his mug back to the table. “What a silly thing to enjoy.”

Waking up every morning next to the love of his life wasn’t something that Sylvain would have thought he’d have, twenty years ago, so he’ll take pleasure in the most mundane of things. Even if it’s as simple as watching Felix trip into his pants, while shoveling breakfast into his mouth.

“I enjoy you,” Sylvain tells him instead, reaching out to grasp at his hand. Felix doesn’t pull away and Sylvain rubs his thumb along the back of his hand. “Stay home today,” he asks. “Call in on your students. Cancel class and laze away the day with me. We can do nothing if you’d like, stuffing ourselves full of snack food and watching shitty romantic comedies.

“Or we could go out, have a picnic or go to a museum. Whatever you want to do.”

“Insatiable,” Felix tells him, but it’s in jest, the closest to telling a joke that he ever comes to.

“You say that like it’s a problem,” Sylvain counters, narrowing his eyes slightly and Felix returns the expression, his own amber eyes practically glowing at the implication. Impulsively, Sylvain places his mug down and reaches forward, grabbing Felix’s chair. He pulls him impossibly close, pressing his fingers into his shirt and pulling tightly--

“Sylvain, you’ll crinkle it--”

He yanks Felix close but doesn’t kiss him, only rubbing their noses in a childish show of affection that has Felix grumbling in response.

“Childish oaf,” Felix chastises, but Sylvain can tell by the hiccup in his breath that he’s not unaffected and resists the urge to further tease him about it. The annoyed tone and burning peach across his nose is plenty enough.

“Have you forgotten what day it is?” Sylvain asks him quietly.

Felix blinks, pulling back slightly to cock his head to the side. It’s not the first time that Sylvain’s remembered something small and silly, holding onto it until he can bring it up later. And really, he doesn’t expect Felix to remember, not really, because Sylvain is the one that’s overly sentimental.

Felix hasn’t put his hair up yet, so Sylvain reaches up and tugs at one of the locks. “It’s the day you said yes.”

Felix looks confused, just like Sylvain knew he’d be. “I said yes in the middle of December,” Felix says seriously, as though he were concerned that Sylvain was losing his damn mind. It’s a tone that he uses more often than Sylvain would like to admit. “I remember because you thought a midnight picnic would be romantic and all I got out of it was a boot full of snow.”

Sylvain frowns at that. “You got a husband out of it.”

“No, I got a husband later on. I remember that because you insisted on a private ceremony at the beach and I spent the entire day with sand in my--”

“It’s the day that you said yes,” Sylvain repeats, pressing his lips to Felix’s cheek in a chaste peck.

“That’s what you said earlier--”

“I’m not talking about the proposal.” Sylvain is quiet when he leans back a little, moving his hand to cup Felix’s cheek instead, thumbing the soft skin and the hard line of his jaw. “I’m talking about--”

“Oh,” Felix breathes. “Oh.”

The night that they never mention, the one where Sylvain spiraled into a drunken panic full of self loathing and regret. The one where an ex-girlfriend dumped a drink all over his lap at the mere sight of him at a club, causing Sylvain to bolt like a coltish fawn before anyone could see the tears of hatred for himself. The night where Sylvain cried and cried and cried, screaming that there was no one, that he’d be forever alone because the one person he actually loved wouldn’t give him the light of day.

The one where Felix grabbed him harshly by the face, pressing their foreheads together and calling him a fool. Where Felix said fucking yes and it was the beginning of the end, but a good change, the best change.

Felix doesn’t like to talk about the night. He’s always been one part embarrassed, one part ashamed about his actions years prior to it, but Sylvain loves that night. He loves that night almost as much as he loves the man before him.

Felix reaches out to grasp Sylvain’s hand gently, squeezing it as he leans forward, pressing their foreheads together like that night so long ago. Sylvain closes his eyes, willing himself to take deep breaths, feeling Felix’s presence before him and soaking it in, taking in the fresh clean soap scent his face. It anchors him, Felix anchors him, he’s always been Sylvain’s roots, ever since they were literally children.

It’s a love that was born with their meeting, carefully crafted over their lifetime until it’s flared into this, into whatever they were, and Sylvain wouldn’t trade the world for Felix.

“I still wonder if you’ll ever settle down,” Sylvain finally. “Every morning is a whirlwind for you.”

“Buffoon,” Felix breathes against him. “Dim-witted fool. I’m here, aren’t I? If that’s not settling down, then I don’t know what is, because only a moron would settle for you.” Sylvain hums at that, smiling into Felix’s hold.

Sylvain pulls back and Felix kisses him, slow and calculated, intent on pulling everything from Sylvain that he can. It’s not like Felix, but Sylvain likes it, he’s into it, he pulls him closer and responds in kind.

“I guess I can play hooky,” Felix murmurs against Sylvain’s lips, fingers reaching up to thread through his hair and scratching at his scalp lightly. “Whatever you want to do,” he finishes.

“I just want to enjoy breakfast with you everyday, forever.”

Felix’s face hardens into annoyance and Sylvain laughs. “Sap,” Felix complains. “Sentimental dolt.” But he doesn’t let go of Sylvain either, fingers still laced together as he reaches for his coffee. The sip he takes is a clear distraction.

Sylvain smiles at him, watching Felix like he’s the sun, squeezing his hand lightly once and then twice. Felix glances back, mug held close to his face as his lips contort into a near snarl. All bark, never any bite; not with Sylvain at least.

But Felix squeezes back and Sylvain files it away, for a rainy day.

Not that he’ll ever need it.

#Sylvix #felix/sylvain #sylvain jose gautier #felix hugo fraldarius #felix and sylvain #fe3h #Fire Emblem Three Houses #fire emblem fanfiction #fanfiction

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dontnessw-me · 5 years

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;; okay, but ... seriously talking now, let me just - say a few things here about Ness. Yeh, lemme just ... blurt out some HCs I have of him, m’kay? I have MANY HCs of him and these have developed through the years ; some have changed but my portrayal of Ness has always stayed the same.

!! These HCs are my own interpretation of Ness, his backstory and family, all exclusively made by me and not related to in-game content unless otherwise stated. Don't steal them :> !!

I’ll divide it into “ chapters ” , so that it’s easier to find the topics.

INDEX 1. Ness’ Family ( parents, sibling, pet ) 2. Ness’ Family ( mother’s side ) 3. Ness’ Family ( father’s side ) 4. Ness’ Family ( others ) 5. Significant Other ( Lucas ) 6. Ness ( a li’l bit about my portrayal of him )

1. NESS’ FAMILY ( parents, sibling, pet )

To start from the roots, RPing with a Ninten or Ana muse has always been a struggle for me because I HC them to be his parents ( I assume that everyone has figured it out now because I leave hints and I make it SO obvious ) . It’s so obvious because you would often read in my threads that his mother is Christian or that his father is also a baseball enthusiast but because of his asthma he had to adjust to a different profession. The reason why I don’t straight-up say it is because I know that not many people share this HC and I know that it also makes them uncomfortable - and also because I don’t want my askbox full of asks like “ but it’s impossible for Ninten and Ana to have a kid in 199X ” -- so I leave hints rather than saying the actual thing.

!! Of course, this doesn’t mean that I won’t interact with any Ninten or Ana muses, but understand that it’ll be a bit hard for me since, from my point of view, it’ll be Ness seeing their parents in their childhood !!

NESS’ FATHER : It’s canon that Ness’ father works at a hamburger industry as manager ( his chain of restaurants is called Ness’ Burger - so imagine the embarassment from Ness in seeing these fast-foods with his name on it as he walks down the streets with his friends and / or significant other . uugh ) ; I also HC that, because of the job keeping him busy, he returns home during week-ends and holidays. - Also, on an important side-note, he paid back the loan to the Minches!! But they would still hold a grudge on him and on Ness’ family because it took him a while to pay it back ( my HC ) . - Ness’ father is ... a dork, really. Ness has probably inherited his playful side from him. He’d sit at dinner and crack jokes out of the blue and because they’re so sudden it’s always entertaining.

NESS’ MOTHER : she likes drama, it’s canon. And I HC that Ness took it from her, since you’ll sometimes see him watch soap-operas either alone or with her, or even discuss about characters and their role with his mother. He doesn’t really like to show that he has a certain fondness for drama, so he tends not to say anything about it or keep it hidden. - Mama is a skilled cook and everyday feels like Thanksgiving dinner. Every meal she makes is made with love ( she sometimes leaves little edible decorations on each plate, or when making bentos she makes sure to put only the food Ness likes, included apple slices shaped like bunnies! ) and will always spoil her children with their favourite food and treats. - Mama is a sweetheart. You’d see her kiss her children’s forehead goodnight everyday even if they’re older, at some point. It doesn’t matter, she’ll forever show them unconditional love regardless ( points at 18 years old Ness having to bend his torso a little forward so that his mother can kiss his forehead bc hE TOWERS OVER EVERY FAMILY MEMBER WHHH--- )

!! Both of his parents know and can use PSI ( Ness has inherited it from them ) , but they never use it in public and / or in front of their children / family . !!

!! They haven’t told their kids about their own adventure or about Giygas / Giegue but they will when Ness is older ( when he’s approximately 16-17 ) , because it’s a topic that must be said quietly and with full comprehension. The reason why they haven’t said it yet is because ... they wanted to live like a normal happy family ( and because they seriously thought that it really was over, although it ended with Giygas / Giegue leaving on his ship ) . !!

NESS’ SISTER : The game doesn’t tell you how old Tracy is but it makes it clear that she’s younger than Ness, so I HC her to be at least four years younger than him. The game canonically has her work at a delivery agency, so that she can help Ness store / deliver his items and she quits the job only after Ness defeats Giygas. - I HC that she wasn’t born with PSI but with an impressive intelligence for someone her age. She’s a child, of course, but she already seems to know how the world spins. - I HC that, when she’s more or less Ness’ age ( 13 yo ) , she starts delevoping a soft crush towards Picky Minch, their neighbor, and because of it Ness grows incredibly jealous towards her and begins to sound bratty when Picky is around or when he’s mentioned in a conversation. It’s something that any sibling does, no? Squinting when your sister’s crush is home, mmm... - Ness combs and braids her hair before she leaves for school.

!! Because of Tracy unable of using PSI - and also because of a matter of good manners - the family has set some sort of ‘ rule ’ in which no one will read each other’s mind nor use PSI between family members. This rule is for now for Ness only since both him and his sister don’t know that their parents can use PSI !!

NESS’ PET : Okay, so ... for King I have several HCs bc the game tells you literally nothing about him ( only that he’s lazy and unreliable ) . I HC that King is a Mastiff Tibetan, three years older than Ness. Yes, I HC him to be a very big doggo, yes. - Ness’ parents have adopted him when he was only three weeks old and a few months after Ninten’s dog, Mick, passed away. The puppy was nameless for two days ( he had silly nicknames like Mick II or Mick-on-all-fours since Ninten’s dog was capable of standing on two legs for a long time ) , until Ana playfully placed a crown made with carton box on the puppy’s head and called him King. - The puppy grows strong and big and he becomes a well adored family member ; he gets to be part of many events happening in the family’s life : he meets Ness for the first time folded in a blanket and sleeping in a cradle. During the child’s growth, King was always there, making sure that the kid would avoid getting in trouble when Ana or Ninten were looking away ; he became a sort of nanny, yes - even making sure that he slept enough. - Because Ness could only mutter words and / or broken sentences in his early years, saying King was a little hard for him ; he used to call him Pooch and this nickname kinda stayed as he grew up. - King begins to speak with the family almost right away when he’s adopted ( only people with telepathy can, of course, hear him ) ; so, I kinda like to think that King has also helped Ness to speak when he was a toddler. // it startded as a joke but then became canon in the blog : King will be part of the family’s events for a pretty long time even though he’s now 16 years old ; he’s developed a certain fondness towards the family and he will stay alive as long as his body will let him. And let me tell you ... he’s going to stay for a very long time, still. //

2. NESS’ FAMILY ( his mother’s side )

I don’t have many HCs for Ness’ grandparents from his mother side, individually speaking. I’m still working on it. But they get to visit the family every now and then, especially during the holidays.

NESS’ GRANDMOTHER : she lives with her husband in a snowy town away from Ness’ homeland.

NESS’ GRANDFATHER : he’s a priest living with his wife in a snowy town away from Ness’ homeland.

3. NESS’ FAMILY ( his father’s side )

NESS’ GRANDMOTHER : Carol’s character is very similar to Ness’ mother ingame. She also likes to cook and because of it I like to think that she lends a helping hand in the kitchen when the family is reunited for the holidays. - When she visits she always brings gifts for the family, plus a few homemade delicacies.

NESS’ GRANDFATHER : he works full-time in a business agency and lives with his wife Carol in Podunk, a town away from Ness’ homeland. At first glance he looks secretive but he’s in truth a dork, really ; Ninten has probably inherited his playful side from him, but unlike him his playfulness is controlled and limited.

!! Both his grandparents can’t use PSI. !!

NESS’ AUNTS : Aunt Mimmie and Aunt Minnie are Ninten’s twin sisters. They’re not married ( yet ) and they’re currently both single ( Ness thinks it’s their choice but who knows ) ; Ness doesn’t really get to see them often but only during Christmas or Thanksgiving, New Years as well. - They travel a lot, sometimes on their own and sometimes they travel together. - They’re both professional photographers with their own site where to share their shots. Writing books and novels is considered a hobby for them, even if their publications are famous all around the world. - They share an apartment together but it’s almost always empty because they’re always outside or traveling. - When the family wants to book a vacation somewhere away from Onett, Ness’ aunts are both willing to book tickets for them and plan their vacation ( Ana doesn’t say anything, they just do it ) . - They keep in touch with their brother almost everyday. They’re probably the ones who stay the most in contact with the family, tbh ...

4. NESS’ FAMILY ( others )

This section is about Ninten’s and Ana’s friends who are not related to them in any way but because they’re their close friends, they’re included in the family. Ness grew up calling them uncle / aunt .

TEDDY ( uncle ) : When Ness was only a kid, he would admire Teddy those rare times he would visit and even define him the ‘ cool uncle ’ ; - He owns a couple of CDs made by Teddy, which he listens to every now and then ; the genre is enjoyable and his songs have a good rhythm. The lyrics are strong and powerful : some songs tell a bit about himself, while others ... he can’t tell ; - Every time Teddy releases a new CD, a copy is sent to Ness two days before its actual release date. - Teddy is also the owner of his family’s repair shop of which he was named after, but because of his singer career he hired someone else to run the store.

LLOYD ( uncle ) : Ness doesn’t know that much about him ; his parents say that he used to visit more frequently when he was a baby, but he got busier and busier with his studies and experiments that nowadays it’s very rare to see him in person. - Lloyd grows to be a successful scientist. He, every now and then, writes books about his theories and experiments, and sometimes he can be seen on TV on one of those scientific channels, guest of an interview or merely stating facts and thesis about a specific argument ( we could say that that is the only time Ness gets to see him ) . // no, I don’t HC that Lloyd is Dr. Andonuts merely because Dr. Andonuts is way older than how Lloyd should be in Earthbound, despite the both of them hiding in trashcans, wearing round glasses or having white / gray hair. //

PIPPI ( aunt ) : okay, comin’ up with something for Pippi was a bit of a struggle, but I like to think that she’s become a professional painter ; she’s energetic, creative and she likes to give life to a thought through colours on a canvas. - She likes to visit quiet / abandoned places to find inspiration, to then paint her own versions of these places visited. Her paintings are famous for the feelings they convey and for the breathtaking and realistic colours she uses. - she would also paint portraits ; she has a few of Ness and his family and it progressively expands as she meets new people ( there is also a portrait of Lucas but it’s still a work in progress ) . - when she visits ( some days when she’s free or during the holidays ) , it’s always a good occasion to take a few pictures to paint later. - she he loves when Ness shows her pictures of Tazmily. In fact, she has painted various landscapes of the village already, though she would like to visit it herself one day. - Farms and quiet villages are often protagonists of her paintings. - she uses brushes, fingers, palms and elbows to draw. Yes, she has her own ways, go figure ...

5. NESS’ SIGNIFICANT OTHER

Lucas ( it’s canon in this blog ) : they met in the Smash tournaments and have clicked almost immediately thanks to their similarity and thanks to the fact that they both share PSI abilities. Outside of the Smash tournaments, they’re in a long-distance relationship ( Lucas’ timezone is six hours behind Ness’ ) ; - Ness pays him a visit every weekend by teleporting to his village -- only during the weekend because Ness has school during the other days and can’t find free time between his homeworks. - When he gets to Tazmily, however, he must rest for at least two hours or so ( bc, hey, it’s like you’re taking a 15+ hours flight :0 let him rest ) . // One thing I want to point out is that Ness is aged up to 16 years old to make it easy for me to RP very soft romance ; very soft romance as in ... they hold hands, hugs and barely kiss cheeks :’) //

This Lucas’ interpretation is pk-lovely’s ♥

6. NESS

Most of his description is a HC of mine, I'm stating when things are canon in-game anyway.

His full name is Ness Yusha Omoto ( Yusha is his middle name for ' brave ' given by his father when he was born ) . If we consider his mother's last name, his full name would be Ness Yusha Hayes Omoto, but we'll just go with the first one. - It’s canon that he was born with PSI. His parents found out when the baby bottle started to move on its own. He taught himself most of his PSI by starting with recovery ones when he fell of a bike and scraped his knees. Later on as he grew up, he taught himself more useful PSI and begun to develop a special one based on his favourite thing.

PHYSICAL APPEARANCE : Ness weighs 95lb ( 43kg ) and he's 5ft tall ( 150cm ) ( but he grows up to 6′2′’, watch him ) . He has short, messy and greasy black hair and he wears a baseball cap to mostly hide this messy mane but to also show his passion towards baseball, his favourite sport. His eyes are black ( not as black as his hair but they're close to a dark grey colour ) and when he uses his psychic powers they turn purple-ish, so you can tell when he's using PSI or not. His skin is naturally tanned, with very light freckles across his face, at the back of his neck and under his elbows. - he’s ambidextrous.

LANGUAGE(S) KNOWN : He speaks English and Japanese ( thanks to his father who has Japanese origins ) , and also ASL language but not very fluently. He'd rather read your mind, tbh ...

CLOTHING PREFERENCE(S) : He wears striped shirts, baseball tees and hoodies ; jorts, capri jeans, sweats and sneakers. His preference in clothing tends to vary but he likes to wear comfortable clothes regardless if they look ugly or don't match well with the others. - He's uncomfortable in long-sleeved garments, so you will always see him wear short-sleeved shirts even during Winter ( but only indoors ; if he falls sick, he can heal himself, so ... ) . He hates Winter >:C - Oh, and let’s not forget backpacks!

PROFESSION : Student. - He's the Captain of his school's baseball team, " The Starmen " ( which will then become his own team when he grows up ) . It doesn't have an actual mascot because of Ness' discomfort in people wearing large mascot suits. - The uniform has several stars across the sleeves, the name of the player is written on the back, while on the front is written " Onett " together with the initials " SM " ; the Captain's uniform has two stars as background for the initials and they're light-blue. - The team has its own baseball cap but Ness still prefers to wear his own.

FOOD PREFERENCE(S) : Ness is a foodie! He LOVES to eat and his stomach is often compared to a bottomless well! There is not a food he doesn't like and thanks to his high and active metabolism he rarely gains weight despite eating so much. - However, he suffers from indigestion only when he eats too much sugar on a daily basis : the amount he can get is awfully limited, but it doesn't mean that he doesn't like sweets because to be fair they're his weakness. But because of his indigestion, he's very careful with them and grows a little paranoid when eating a tart or any other sweet treat. - Now, though, perhaps because of the lack of sugar in his system, the boy has grown very fond of salty snacks since they don't cause his stomach to twist in agony ; so, expect this kid to eat a lot of salt.

FAVOURITE FOOD : Salisbury Steak ( canon ). It's basically made from blending ground beef with other ingredients, topped then with bitter-sweet and slightly spicy sauce. His mother serves it with gravy and mashed potatoes as side-dish. But he likes anything that contain meat, tbh ... - He also likes Sukiyaki and Mori Soba ( canon in game ) and Yakisoba ( my HC ) . - Since we're on the topic, it's canon that Ness likes dog food as well ( it's in the japanese version, replaced by salmon in the english version ) ; so I kinda HC that as a kid he ate a can of dog food out of curiosity and kinda liked it ... uh ...

MUSIC PREFERENCE(S) : His genre varies and he's always open to new hits. He likes rock, hip-hop, lo-fi beats and instrumental tunes. But a huge favourites are Venus' songs. We could also say that Ness has a sort of celebrity crush on Venus but he doesn't say it openly because he'd feel awkward. However, you can hear him hum her songs every now and them and find a collection of all of her albums on his shelves plus a few autographs. She's his favourite singer and it will never change, not even when he grows up. - He also likes The Runaway Five's songs and DCMC ( thanks to his boyfriend who has introduced them to him ) . - Ness can also play guitar. He has an acustic guitar in his room that he plays every now and then ; he's been playing it since he was five years old and can play any song by just listening to it.

FAVOURITE COLOUR : Ness likes the colour pink for reasons he won't tell ( simply because he doesn't know either, he just likes it more than any other colours tbh, although it now reminds him of his boyfriend's cheeks when he blushes, hhh ) .

FAVOURITE ANIMAL : You would think that his favourite animal is dogs, right? Wrong! It's bunnies, especially dwarf rabbits with very tiny ears. The boy would scream for a bunny but because of their sensibility they might not keep up with his energy, so it's really not recommended to get him a bunny for the sake of the poor thing :c But he will sit at a pet shop for hours just to look at the bunnies, hm.

DOMINANT TRAIT : his courage, of course. - Keep in mind that now because he’s brave he’s not afraid of anything. Wrong. He has fears as well just like everyone but he doesn’t share them openly ( and he considers them more states of discomfort rather than actual fears ) .

NEGATIVE TRAIT(S) : As already mentioned, Ness is a jealous person when it comes to his loved ones because he feels the urge of protecting them and keeping them away from what might hurt them in his opinion. So, to state an example, when his sister's crush is around, Ness will keep an eye open on his behaviour and on the way he talks to his sister and interfere with annoying jokes or facts that might relate to Picky when he thinks that he's walking out of the line. But it always ends with Tracy either holding a grudge on Ness or punching his shoulder ( a light punch, just to make it stop ) . Another example is Ness crinkling his nose ( please keep this trait in mind for it tells a lot of how Ness is feeling in a certain moment ) when Lucas talks fondly about another person he doesn't know, and he starts saying things like "uh", "oh yeah?", "uh-hu", "pssh", "tch" every now and then as he speaks to kinda control his jealousy. - It starts low but if it grows incontrollably, he then becomes paranoid ; you can clearly tell when it happens by reading his movements : if he's sitting down, his legs shake, or if he's standing up he struggles to find a comfortable pose. he hides his mouth behind his palm, he rubs the back of his head, he begins scanning the area around him, he sighs loudly and sometimes even whines. In worse cases he starts walking around in the room or even bite his nails. - He calms down on his own without the other person to do anything for him, but it might take a couple of hours if not less. He will feel better and even apologize to you for his behavior afterwards. Note it : jealous and overprotective. :thumbs_up: - he’s also greedy ( only when it comes to sharing his food ) , clumsy and possessive ( light stage of possession, he doesn’t go all yandere on his enemies, please ... :C but I do have an AU with Yandere!Ness, hurhur but not on Tumblr, tho ) - On a side note, I’d like to add that Ness sleeps a lot. Really, you’d be surprised with how much he sleeps. He’s energetic, don’t get me wrong, but he’s also very lazy - a weird combination, I know, but it be like that. He can sleep from 6 hours to 18 if he really wants to ; he rarely changes position in his sleep and doesn’t snore. He’s also a heavy sleeper, so if you ever want to wake him up, pinch his shoulder or something like that because he absolutely won’t wake up with words, but here’s where it gets complicated : he reacts in his sleep. ( An example : if you ask him a question, he will just mutter “uh-hu” despite still sleeping, but won’t remember having said that once awake )

POSITIVE TRAIT(S) : aside of his negative traits, Ness is in truth a loving and considerate person. When he loves he loves with all his heart and let’s just say that another person’s contact and warmth is always necessary, almost vital, for him. He’s extrovert, so being in contact with the outside world is fundamental. - he’s adventurous, affectionate, assertive, friendly, fun-loving and curious. - Now, his curiosity is where most of his reckless decisions are made. He’d venture without hesitation in a dark cave because led by his own curiosity ; he’d run outside in the middle of the night to go look at a meteorite that just fell on the hilltop next to his house even if his parents say no ; he would trust his neighbour Lier X Agerate down his basement to look at a statue he dug right under his house ... Just to make it clear, the boy is very curious and if he ever asks inappropriate questions is because his curiosity led him to do so. - He’s also generous, hard-working ( trait inherited by his mother | canon ) , optimistic, self-assured and determined. - He likes to spoil his loved ones with gifts ; so, expect this boy to buy oyu stuff every now and then. If you ever see something you like, Ness will buy it to you without hesitation ( he’s rich :C ) . - loyal, warm-hearted, patient ( except for the line at fast-foods, he grows really impatient then ) , and playful ( inherited by his father | he, much to everyone’s misfortune, very often cracks up jokes even in the most inappropriate moments, especially while shopping : he’d grab food and make jokes out of it. An example : Near to the fridge counter section, the raven, smiling with anticipation at the joke forming in his mind, grabs a random portion of meat, which happens to be minced meat but it doesn’t matter, and shows it to his boyfriend next to him. “Nice to meat you!” )

BAD HABIT(S) : swearing ( only when furious ) , muttering under his breath ( jealous, paranoid, doubtful ) , oversleeping, snacking between meals, leg jiggling ( paranoid, nervous ) , gesturing while talking ( he’s an open book, he expresses himself a lot through non-verbal communication ) , chewing lips ( nervous, paranoid ) , procrastinating ( furious ) , rubbing hands through hair ( nervous, paranoid ) , drinking from the bottle, messy, competitive.

#☆ || onett's li'l dreamer ;; abt #☆ || of balls and bats ;; hc #((#oh my god ...#this is all I can think of for now #but I will keep this list updated . so expect it to see it more than once in the future #Let's just say it's a post where I keep /some/ of my HCs for Ness #I had fun writing all of this down . tbh ...#I really wanted to share with y'all some more information about Ness #and I can understand it's a long read . you don't have to read it all . tbh ;; or you don't have to read it at all . pssh -#but in case you want to know more about how I write my boy #here it is !#thank you for reading !#))#[ tw ;; long post ]

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thecaseofunreason · 3 years

Text

I Never Worried About Being Working Class Until I Went to Art School

Growing up in Telford, social class was never a big deal. That all changed when I moved away for university.

“How are you getting eight grand a year while I’m getting nothing?” a flatmate asked me as our student loans rolled in, a day I’d impatiently anticipated while assigning which emergency can of soup I was going to crack open on which days.

I asked him why he didn’t get anything, wondering if he’d done his application wrong.

He said “for whatever reason” students with rich parents didn’t get maintenance loans. This made him, in his words, “fucked”.

“Yeah, you seem really fucked with your brand new car and weekly Ocado deliveries pre-ordered by your mum,” I thought.

Until then, at 18, I wasn’t conscious of my social class. This may sound ridiculous, especially as my single, teenage mother – who juggled college with two minimum wage jobs – shared a single bed with me in my nan’s house until she could afford to rent a council flat.

I grew up in Telford, a mining town just west of the Black Country and bordering Wales. It’s diverse but sadly not integrated – one of those towns that’s bewilderingly Tory blue, where the poor have been gaslit into voting for parties that oppose their interests.

Most men work locally, while women marry young, have children and work part-time happily too. My life was mirrored by my friends and classmates. Our parents worked in shops and factories, and until my mum eventually graduated from university and became a support worker, I knew of few other occupations. I was aware of them, but they were the jobs you daydreamed about – not the jobs you actually applied for to pay the bills and keep your family afloat.

Still, I dreamt big. I’ve wanted to be a writer since I discovered Roald Dahl and started folding stolen printer paper into “books” to document my “novels” in barely-legible crayon. I even forced my mum and my primary school teachers to write endorsements on the back: “You could write that it’s tea-spittingly funny,” I’d direct, copying a Stephen Fry quote from the local WH Smiths shopfront. Though my community upheld the unbreakable school-work-house-marriage-children formula, my family were encouraging – but I needed a “real job” to sustain my “hobby”, so I applied for a combined creative writing and journalism degree.

I was quintessentially working class, but naivety had granted me blissful oblivion. Unaware of how other people lived, I never felt like I missed out on anything.

Going to art school in Surrey was the first place I mixed with people from other class backgrounds. That conversation with my flatmate wasn’t the only one causing division. Throughout freshers week, as we crawled pubs and played Never Have I Ever – the only ice breaker anyone actually likes – nonchalant comments about money, skiing trips, and even a family butler, left me feeling isolated.

I’m not alone in this feeling. Ben Rogaly, a professor of human geography at the Sussex Centre for Migration Research, notes that spending time in typically middle-class spaces can be traumatic for some working-class people. “Teaching in a university, I sometimes see working-class students enter this middle-class environment and feel alienated, even experiencing mental health problems. They can accumulate a sense of exclusion, of otherness.”

Though my flatmates were all genuine friends of mine, anger deriving from distinct class division became a theme of my student life. The rich had a very different transition into the art world to the few working-class students. Their families never questioned their career plan, and they arrived without the budget tracking sheets and tinned food our mums had tearily pressed into our arms. Some had never worried about money, and probably never would, which I found irritating and at times unbearable.

The isolation was only exacerbated in my first media job. I found it through a diversity programme but was still surrounded by upper-middle-class people. Soon, co-workers started unrelatable conversations about their electric cars, holiday homes and nepotism-fueled career trajectories.

Colleagues found anecdotes about my life funny when they weren’t meant to be, savouring the dramatic elements like it was a soap opera. Eventually, I started dressing like them, diluted my accentto flow with theirs, and avoided discussing anything that was a class signifier - like my family home, my mum’s relative youth and the schools I attended. I was performing upper-class at work as a protective shield, then switching back to default at home, which was a £250pcm bedroom with someone else’s vomit on the walls.

Rogaly observes in his book that many people have mixed emotions about their identities. “The same person could feel pride and shame at their class background in one conversation, yet identify with it in another.”

It’s hard to pinpoint when I stopped acting like my colleagues and actually became one of them. After a few years of hard work and promotions, I found myself living in one of the most affluent areas of Hampshire with a salary I never imagined I’d have. I only noticed the transition when a friend pointed out I was earning more than most of my family members – a realisation that brought a confusing mix of relief, guilt, and fear that I was a “class traitor”.

For a long time I lived in a constant state of imposter syndrome. My colleagues never really bonded with me. But back home, the way I was seen, talked to (or about) had shifted. My family don’t always understand my career but they’re proud. Friends who remained in our hometown think I’ve abandoned our roots.

Flippant jokes from friends about me having a New Yorker subscription and spending all my time in pretentious coffee shops (to be fair, I deserve this) had me wondering if I had abandoned my class, but I didn’t feel like I had.

I’ve whined to my mum – who studied class mobility while trying to achieve it – about this confusion. She’s adamant a person can’t change their class once they’ve reached adulthood, because our identities, values and behaviours have already formed. “Even if you won the lottery, you’d still be a poor kid at heart.” I’m not sure if I agree, but at least she doesn’t think I’ve abandoned her.

There's limited research on whether someone can entirely move from one class to another. I know because I’ve looked, extensively and nervously, as I frequently feel obliged to pick a side. It seems classist to dismiss my obtained wealth, but equally so to disregard my upbringing. Though I don’t have the insulation my new peers have long-held, I’m unsure of my place now that I’m financially comfortable and living in a middle-class bubble. There is one Oxford University study that defines social mobility as “someone landing an occupation of higher status than their father.” I never had the latter, so to quote Kanye: I guess we'll never know.

I still feel like I’m in turmoil, but I’ve found comfort in that. As Rogaly says, discomfort can help “to challenge class inequality and speak about class in terms of the social relationships entailed – rather than trying to define what it means to be in a particular class”. It’s a privilege to have acquired my dream job and a comfortable home, but be grounded by the working-class values I was raised on. I didn’t believe I belonged because I hadn’t seen anyone else like me in the spaces I wanted to occupy, but I know now that the imposter syndrome I felt had little to do with me – it was a reverberation of deep-seated inequality.

#bethmayashley #www.vice.com

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davidmann95 · 6 years

Note

Hi! May I ask what is your opinion on the current Superman Rebirth/Reborn: to have Superman marry Lois Lane and second, give Superman a kid— Jon Kent. Thank You.

For the first two points: the whole Rebirth/Reborn era has been consistently weak and often actively awful across the board in terms of actual technical execution (at least as far as the writing goes; plenty of excellent art in the mix between the likes of Gleason, Mahnke, Jimenez, and Bogdanovic), but builds a perfectly serviceable baseline and status quo for creators who know what the hell they’re doing to build on whenever the guard finally changes, and I’m entirely in favor of Lois and Clark being married. For that last part…well, that’s what it’s really all about right now, isn’t it?

I’ve mentioned this once or twice before, but it really is worth reflecting how nuts Jon’s entire existence is. Superman and Lois Lane have a kid now. A no-fooling son who is Superboy. Not a hoax, dream, or imaginary tale, and in fact with Reborn DC’s doubled down on him being Superman’s Very Official Real Kid Forever Now. Even Batman had family sometimes portrayed as his children before, and his biological kid was specifically framed in the light of being dropped in his lap at 10, but Jon had to be an ancillary side-effect of a failed event slipping through due to Superman editorial’s failings, because “also they’ve had a kid for awhile now” isn’t the sort of thing that’d ever be retroactively slotted in via a normal reboot. Regardless of how he came about though, I’m absolutely willing to call Jon the best idea to hit Superman since at least Morrison folding back in the Golden Age adventures, and very possibly since Lois and Clark getting married in the first place.

Firstly, there’s just that the kid already has a distinct personality. Not without kinks - most books seem to still be writing him pretty generically, and even his creator Dan Jurgens exclusively portrays him as a grab-bag of generic traits for how a middle-aged man would think a 10 year old would speak and act in the 21st century - but for all his many shortcomings as a writer, one thing Peter Tomasi certainly has going for him is that he’s really good at writing kids. So whether bouncing off his dad or Damian, he’s both fun and a character who makes sense given he’s essentially tiny Superman as raised by Superman and Lois Lane: he’s got all of his dad’s optimism and exuberance, but because he’s as open and outgoing as his mom he doesn’t reign it in to dignified, stately charisma; he’s just a goofy upbeat kid. He’s got their collective temper too, and his mom’s unwillingness to let go of a lead, and that El Family sense of wonder at the universe. He’s easy to like and root for, and you can absolutely see how he came about as the product of that household.

What hasn’t been dug up nearly as much yet is the purely thematic, conceptual side of him, which is as rich a seam as it gets. On his mom’s side, there’s this blunt, adventurous woman who’s never had the slightest issue throwing herself into the most intense danger imaginable for the sake of a story having to take physical and emotional responsibility for a dumb, tiny little human who’s going to grow up to be the next Superman, and having to figure out pretty much from scratch and secondhand experience how to make a stable homelife happen after spending her own childhood moving from one army base to another under her asshole dad. With Clark, there’s after all these years of unconsciously isolating himself finally another being in the universe who could possibly understand what it’s like to grow up a Kryptonian on Earth…except it’s his kid who thinks he’s God because he didn’t learn he was Superman until he was old enough to know what that means.

He’s a second-generation immigrant kid, he’s the Silver Age Superman reared by the original (he was Superboy in a small town alongside Krypto under his Ma and Pa and is growing up in an actively weirder world and a little more open about his hopes and fears), he’s the Nightwing to Clark’s Batman in that he’s being raised by him to not have the same issues but there’s a question as a result of if he’ll have the same drive, he’s a little Superman who can make mistakes and struggle, he’ll pretty much be a celebrity kid once the world at large realizes why he’s wearing the S, he has an entire world of relationships to build defined by others’ own relationships with his parents, he has potential brain/brawn partnership with his mom given she’s been doing this longer than he has, he can see all the craziness of the DCU through fresh eyes, you can do stuff with him once he grows up and becomes Superman II, and on and on and on. There’s just so much that you can do with him, and while he’s also already taking after his parents in that no one seems interested in doing any of it, he’s a goldmine as a sidekick (what if your dad was Superman?!) and as a permutation of the Superman concept in general, a logical continuation of basically every version of Superman that’s come before (he’s the scrapper the Golden Age guy was, his existence owns up to the domestic nature of the Silver Age and recaptures some elements of that actual Superman the current guy doesn’t, he’s the inevitable endpoint of the soap opera stuff), and something that feels like a natural part of that world. I sure hope he’s taken the places he deserves to go.

(Also, can we ditch him accidentally flash-frying a cat? That was an unbelievably weird way of getting off on the wrong foot with his debut to the superbooks proper, and I don’t think anyone would much complain if it was abandoned. Hopefully Reborn already silently took it off the board)

#Superboy #Jon Kent #Superman #Lois Lane #DC Rebirth #Peter Tomasi #Opinion

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bob-giovanni · 7 years

Text

A Casual Affair

Characters: Simon X OFC

Warnings: Cursing, AU/Pre-Apocalypse, Eventual Smut

Summary: Violet has been out of college for a year and desperately needs a job.

Author’s Notes: I got the idea for this story from @simons-thirst-squad Simon Smut Week but it would’ve been too long to post as a one shot. This is kinda AU I guess as it takes place present day with no zombie apocalypse. Hope ya’ll enjoy!! P.S. - there is some French in here. I got it from Google. If you actually speak French and it’s wrong (which I’m sure it is) please feel free to let me know so I can make changes!!

Background Music: “Casual Affair” by Panic! at the Disco

Violet’s alarm starting blaring at 5AM and she instantly hated everything. She groaned as she sat up, swinging her legs around to hang off the edge of the bed as she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes. After yawning and stretching her arms over her head, Violet went down the hallway to her small kitchen and immediately brewed herself a cup of coffee. While she was waiting for her coffee, Violet grabbed the nearly empty container of soy milk out of the fridge. She placed it on the counter next to the coffee maker before reaching into the cabinet above to grab sugar. Once the coffee was finished brewing Violet wasted no time in pouring in the milk and sugar, giving the hot liquid a quick stir before drinking half the cup in one sip. It was scalding hot but Violet was so exhausted and she needed to wake up fast.

She finished her cup of coffee and sat her mug down on the counter. She planned on making another cup for breakfast. She went down the hall back towards her bedroom and ducked into the bathroom to turn the shower on. Violet went back to her bedroom stripped out of her PJs, placing the clothing in her laundry basket. She grabbed her phone and put her hair up in a messy bun and headed back to the bathroom. She opened the music app on her phone and clicked ‘Shuffle All’ before stepping under the lukewarm stream of water.

As she started to lather herself up with body wash, she started signing along with the current song playing. “Take any moment, any time. A lover on the left, a sinner on the right.” She curled her lips into a smile as the water washed the soap off her body and started to loosen up her muscles. “Lay in the atmosphere, a casual affair.” Violet grabbed her hairbrush and held it up to her mouth like a microphone. “Lay! In the atmosphere! A casual affair, whoa!” Violet laughed at herself as she started to wash her hair. Once she felt clean, Violet stepped out of the shower and wrapped her long, faded red hair in a towel. She walked to her bedroom and grabbed another towel, drying the rest of her body quickly.

Once she was dry and moisturized, Violet grabbed a white silk bra and matching panties from her underwear drawer and put them on before unwrapping the towel around her head. Her hair fell to just above her elbows. Violet looked at her brown roots in the mirror, making a mental note that she needed to get her hair done. She looked at alarm clock on her bedside table. 6AM. She still had time before she had to leave. Violet decided to blow dry her hair and do a quick waterfall braid on the left side. Once the braid was complete she took a large round brush and used it with her hair dryer to add big, soft, bouncy curls at the bottom of her hair.

Once she was satisfied with her hair, Violet walked to her closet and pulled out a few different options and started trying things on. She felt that dress pants and a button down shirt was too boring but all the dresses she had, she felt, were not entirely work appropriate. Violet walked back over to the closet and dug around before she found what she was looking for. A simple black pencil skirt. She had a white blouse with black polka dots that would look amazing with the skirt. She put the outfit on and looked in the mirror and smiled. She was more than happy with the way she looked. Violet decided to eat breakfast before finishing up her look. She went to the kitchen and made herself some toast and poured herself a bowl of cereal, putting sliced bananas and strawberries in the bowl as well.

Once she finished eating Violet looked at the clock. It was nearing 7AM. She had to hurry if she didn’t want to be late on her first day. She hurried to the bathroom and quickly brushed her teeth. She then went to her bedroom and grabbed a pair of black pumps from her closet. She sat at her vanity and slipped the shoes on before grabbing her makeup bag. She didn’t want to go too heavy on the makeup today so she did a simple eye look, no falsies, no highlighter, a little blush, and her favorite red lipstick, Urban Decay’s Gash. Violet took a deep breath and grabbed her purse, dropping the lipstick inside and heading to her coat closet. The sky was a little gray so Violet grabbed her green raincoat and headed out of her apartment and down a flight of stairs to the entrance of her building.

Once outside Violet realized it was slightly chillier than she had been expecting. She slipped her coat on as she walked towards to the train station. It was just 2 blocks from her apartment. She descended the stairs and swiped her metro card as she walked through the turnstiles an onto the platform. The train pulled into the station a less than a minute later. Luckily there were a few open seats. Violet sat down and pulled her earbuds from her purse. She plugged them into her phone and put on some relaxing music to try and calm her nerves.

Today was Violet’s first day at her new job. She had graduated from college a year ago with a Bachelor’s in Drama and Dance. Violet’s parent’s were both lawyers. All of her grandparents were lawyers. Her 2 brothers were lawyers. And so on. But Violet never wanted to be a lawyer. Her parents wanted her to follow in their footsteps and become a defense attorney for white collar criminals. She detested what her parents did. They nearly had heart attacks when she said that changed her major to drama. But she didn’t care. She refused to live her life doing something that she hated. Her parents were miserable and she didn’t want that to be her. Her dream was to be a teacher at a prestigious art school and moved to New York after graduating to fulfill that dream. Unfortunately she soon discovered that NYC was an cold, unforgiving bitch. But she didn’t love it any less.

Being out of work for nearly a year was hard. She blew through most of her savings paying rent and buying groceries. But that all changes today. Violet started humming quietly along to the song currently playing on her phone. 20 minutes later the train pulled into the Christopher Street/Sheridan Square stop. Violet stood and exited the train, hurrying up the steps to the street and heading east. Christopher Street was one of her favorite areas in the city. It was full of life and culture. She would spend hours here on the weekends when she just needed to get out of her apartment. Violet arrived in front of her new office building. It was a 5 story white building with black doors and awnings. It didn’t really stick out much but that didn’t matter. She walked up the faux marble steps and opened one of the black doors, stepping inside and walking up to a large black desk. There was a young woman sitting behind it who greeted her.

“Hello there. Can I help you?” Violet smiled and nodded. “Yes, I’m here to see Julia Freeman?” The young woman picked up the phone and dialed an extension. “And who should I tell her is here?” “Violet Durand.” The young woman spoke wield into the receiver for a moment before hanging up. “You can have seat right over there, Ms. Durand. Julia will be out to get you momentarily.” Violet nodded. “Thank you.” She sat on a white leather couch and looked around the lobby. It was very monochromatic. But Violet didn’t mind. It was kinda nice actually. She looked behind the large desk at the entrance. ‘Yellow House Inc.’ it said in gold letters. All Violet knew about the company was that the CEO was an art dealer and that she was going to be his assistant. Being the assistant to a pretentious art dealer prick sounded like hell but Violet was desperate.

A few moments later Violet heard the familiar clinking of heels on tile. She looked up and saw a tall, statuesque woman with short black hair. “Hi, you must be Violet. I’m Julia Freeman, head of Human Resources.” She spoke with a British accent that can only be described as snooty. She extended her hand to Violet. Violet quickly stood and shook the woman’s hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Julia smiled and lead Violet through large white double doors. Julia led Violet to a small conference where there was a stack of paper on a small circular table. Julia took a seat and Violet sat across from her. “Here is some paperwork that we need you to sign. Mostly standard stuff, however there is an NDA in there.” Violet furrowed her eyebrows. “May I ask why I have to sign a non-disclosure agreement?” “The CEO is married to Charlotte Scott.” Violet’s eyes widened a bit. “The actress?” She asked softly. Julia bit back a laugh and nodded. “Yes, the actress. As the assistant to the CEO you will sometimes have to go to their home and you are forbidden from discussing anything you see in there or risk losing your job and a $100,000 fine.”

Violet made sure to read the NDA thoroughly before signing. Once all of her paperwork was complete, Julia put it in a neat stack to her left. “So, Violet, do you know what we do here at Yellow House?” Violet chewed her bottom lip a bit. “You buy and sell art from other art dealers or collectors.” Julia nodded. “That’s part of it.” She began explaining more about the company and what they did. It all sounded dreadful but Violet continued to actively listen, making sure to ask a question or two along the way. “Do you know what Yellow House is? What it is a reference to?” Julia asked. “Well, Yellow House is a painting by Van Gogh, so I assume that.” Julia smiled. “Very good. The CEO despises Van Gogh but rich people love him so we are appropriately named after one of his paintings. And do you know who our CEO is?” “His name is Simon, I believe.” Julia chuckled a bit. “Yes, very good. Since you are his assistant it would serve you well to know his name.”

Julia excused herself from the room, taking the stack of papers with her. A few minutes later she peeked her head around the doorframe. “Come. I’m going to take you to meet Simon now.” Violet stood, smoothing out the front of her skirt. She grabbed her purse and coat from the chair and followed Julia to an elevator. They entered and Julia pressed the button for the 5th floor. “A few quick tips. Simon is…a little eccentric so just try to play along if you’re not. Also, he hates it when people call him sir or mister so just call him Simon. And don’t be offended if it takes him a while to learn your name. For the first 2 months that I worked here he called me Natalie.” Violet smiled nervously. “Oh ok.” Julia continued. “And don’t bother correcting him. It will only extend the amount of time he calls you the wrong name.”

The elevator dinged when they reached the 5th floor. Julia led Violet out of the elevator. Straight ahead was a large black desk that was partially surrounded to form half a square. “This will be your desk. You can set your things down here. I’ll make sure that Simon isn’t on a call.” Violet set her things down as Julia approached a large black door, knocking twice. “Yeah, come in.” Violet heard a gruff sounding voice from the other side say. Julia pushed the door open and stepped inside. She couldn’t make out what was being said, all she heard was muffled voices. A moment later Julia stepped partially outside the door. “You can come in, Violet.”

Violet took a deep breath and walked over, stopping outside the door for a moment before finally stepping inside. She was surprised to when she finally laid eyes on Simon. She expected him to be some prick in his late 20s to early 30s with a suit that costs more than a year’s rent and slicked back hair. Instead she saw a tall man in his 40s with graying, slightly crazy hair, a mustache that would give 70s porn stars a run for their money, black jeans, black boots, and a black Sex Pistols t-shirt.

“Simon, this is your new assistant, Violet Durand. She graduated from Tisch last year.” Simon looked up for the first time, giving Violet a once over before speaking. “A Tisch girl, huh? Let me guess…drama? No, dance?” Violet smiled shyly. “Drama and dance.” Simon grinned. “Close enough.” He stood from his chair and walked around his desk, holding his hand out to Violet. “Nice to meet you.” Violet shook his hand, caught off guard briefly by his strong grip. “Likewise.” Simon went back to his desk and pulled out his phone. “Ya know, we’ve never had a Tisch grad before. Maybe this one will actually know what she’s doing.” Violet’s eyebrows raised a bit at Simon’s crassness. Julia smiled a bit. “Well, honestly, Violet does seem very bright.”

Violet jumped as Simon’s hand slammed down on his desk. “Goddammit! Why is this motherfucker always send me shit in French. He knows I don’t speak fucking French! Julia, did you tell this motherfucker I don’t speak French?” Julia walked to his desk, holding her hand out for his phone. “That depends. Which motherfucker are you referring to this time?” Julia was looking at the phone. Her and Simon went back and forth for a few moments before Violet spoke up. “Umm…I might be able to help. If that’s ok?” Simon nodded and Julia handed the phone to Violet. She looked over the words, reading them aloud.

“‘Merci pour votre aide. Votre charmante épouse et vous-même êtes les bienvenus chez nous à tout moment.’" It means ‘thank you for all of your help. You and your lovely wife are welcome at our home anytime.’” Simon raised an eyebrow. “You take French in college?” Violet shook her head as she handed the phone back to Julia. “No sir…I mean Simon. I was taught by my mother. I was only allowed to speak French in my grandmother’s home. She hated the English language…and most Americans, honestly.” Simon huffed. “Smart lady.” Simon continued to look through e-mails on his phone for a few moments. “Listen uh….” Julia leaned in and whispered. “Violet.” “I know.” Simon said incredulously. “Listen, Violet. Why don’t you finished getting settled. Julia here will take you on a grand tour and finish going over things with you and then after that you can take off. I don’t have much use for ya today. But I expect you here and ready to work at 8am tomorrow. Understood?” Violet nodded. “Yes, si…Simon. Thank you.”

Julia led Violet around the building, introducing her to all of her new co-workers. Violet’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much by the time the tour was over. Julia took her back up to the 5th floor so she could grab her things. As Violet grabbed her purse and coat she could hear Simon yelling in his office, obviously speaking to someone on the phone. Julia took Violet back down to the 1st floor to show her out. As Violet sat on the train on the way back to her apartment, she had a feeling that this job was going to be a strange and twisted journey. And that made her nervous and excited at the same time. She knew one thing for sure. Tomorrow was going to be an exciting day.

Tags: @simons-thirst-squad @jdmfanfiction

Thank you to @66psychotic99 for the proper French translation above!!

#Simon TWD #Simon the Savior #TWD Fanfiction #Simon X OFC #Steven Ogg

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thepointofthestory · 5 years

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What Would You Even Call Something Like That?

I went over to my dad’s apartment last night to drop off his clean clothes.

Okay, I should back up a bit. There’s a whole post about my dad’s medical conditions, but I didn’t get into any of his other issues.

My dad is 71 years old and, basically, lives like a 12 year old whose parents are away for the weekend. He shops like a 12 year old kid. He buys and drinks only soda. He does everything in the most complicated way possible, down to making a grilled cheese sandwich a process that includes toaster, microwave AND stovetop and thinks that, in order to clean his kitchen floor he’s got to

He’s probably undiagnosed ADHD, possibly on the Spectrum. I’ve come to realize that my dad lives inside a persistant cinematic delusion. He sees himself as the plucky, downtrodden, everyman hero from movies. Jimmy Stewart as George Bailey in It’s A Wonderful Life is a great example of that archetype. Bad stuff happens to poor George, but he plugs on through his life with a positive demeanor and things all work out in the end.

He’s 71 years old, with two serious medical conditions that need constant monitoring and attention and in his headhe’s still a vital, robust man in his prime. No one understands how that can be the case, but, he refuses to use his cane because he thinks it makes him look old. No, Dad. No. What makes you look old is your hunched shoulders and shuffling gait. What makes you look old is ... that you’re OLD.

While they were married my mother, of course, did all the cooking and cleaning and child raising. Oh, and worked. But then she divorced him.

Only after they were divorced did he ever have to take care of himself. He went from his mother taking care of him to MY mother taking care of him to... being 40 and alone and not having a fucking clue how to do *anything*. So, he had to learn how to do things like cooking and laundry.

Did he ask someone to show him? No. Did he go to the library, and look it up (because the Internet wasn’t a thing yet)? No. Did he... I don’t know, read the instructions on the back of the laundry soap box or the bathroom cleanser? No. He just... came up with ideas in his head and those ideas took root and he made himself a little cinematic Cinderella Reality world where the way you clean the bathroom (the whole thing) is that you splash around some bleach on the floor, get down on your hands and knees, scrub at it a bit with a towel (any color will do!) and bam. Clean bathroom. Or, you can just throw a scoop of soap into the laundry and turn on the machine. Once it comes out of the dryer, even if it is still covered in food stains... it’s been washed, so, it’s clean!

Also, did you know that you don’t really have to wash some clothes? Like... if you can’t SEE big clumps of dirt and stains, it’s still clean. Even if it kinda smells like you rolled in something dead... it’s clean. Pants are this way, especially. You never ever need to wash pants unless you stain them. You can wear pants indefinately. Because they don’t get dirty.

So, I do his laundry now. And once a month I’ll be going to his place to deep clean his apartment.

Okay, so, last night I went over to drop off his clean clothes. I make him put them away, because it’s like... litterally, the least he can do. And while he was doing that I went and looked at his living room. It’s tripping hazard central. Ugh. And my dad is a fall risk. Like.. it’s a big problem.

After he was done I told him I’d like to show him what I’d been talking about on the phone, how the change I was suggesting wasn’t so drastic. And he did agree to let me move his chair two feet to the right, as I’d suggested. It opens up the living room and makes it safer, it really does.

But when I first showed him the narrow little walk-way that I was talking about he got all huffy and was like “Well I always go around through the kitchen.”

So, we walked around the way he insisted he “always” goes (not true, but not worth arguing) and the walk-way there is just as narrow thanks to his desk chair. Now, the desk chair is lighter and more easy to move, so I’m less concerned about it. But when I pointed out that it’s not actually a bigger space this is what he said,

“Well, yes, but sometimes I hold onto the back of the chair and use it as a kind of stabalizing device.”

I turned to him and said, without missing a beat, “That’s brilliant Dad! Imagine if they made a tool just for that, like, just for someone to use to stablize themselves while they walked! What would you even call something like that?”

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lovemesomesurveys · 7 years

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What’s your favorite time of day? The time in the morning and at night that I read/study the Bible, my morning cup of coffee, and any time I’m asleep. Do you prefer to be called by a nickname or your real name? *shrug* Whichever. Is there anyone on your nerves right now? No. Do you believe in love at first sight or is all fake? I don’t believe in it. Are you a virgin? Yes.

Whats the farthest you’ll go on a first date? I like to take things slow.

Have you ever been to a rave? Nope, and I’m not interested. Are you racist? No. Have you ever had your heart broken in the past? Yes. Do you ever find yourself daydreaming? Yes, quite a bit. Although, it’s more so that I just zone out/space out. Is there any girl/guy is specific who you wish would just fall off Earth? No. Do you know anyone with the name Emily? Nope.

Is there anyone who uses too much peer pressure? Not that I know of. What is the lowest thing you’ve ever done? I’m not sure. Have you done anything you regret in the past month? Yes. Is this a good year so far? No. Who’s the last person you called? My mom. Do you have any phobias? Yes I do. Have you ever volunteered anywhere? Yeah, a few places such as homeless shelters, festivals, a nursing home, a nature center, and school club events. Do you ever find yourself being paranoid? Yes. Do you ever have lucid dreams? No. Are there any famous people who inspire you? Yes. Who’s the last person who made you lose your temper? I don’t know. Is there anyone you’d like to kiss right now? Alexander Skarsgård, ha.

Do you love yourself more than the person you’re with? I’m single; therefore, I’m with myself and I don’t love myself, so no. Is there someone who when they call you drop what you’re doing to see them? I’m kind of a shitty person. What’s your favorite song right now? I don’t have a particular favorite song. Is it your favorite song because it reminds you of someone? - Tell us your favorite lyric of that song. - Do you believe in marriage? I believe it exists? What’s your favorite kind of music? It depends on my mood. <<< Same. I like variety. Sometimes I like to just hit shuffle and have it be mixed together and other times I’m in the mood for a certain genre. Do you ever hear a song and think it was written to explain your situation? Yeah. I guess in a way they are because oftentimes it’s written to be relatable. Do you have kids, what are their names, or what will their names be? Nooo I do not. Have you ever been to the beach? Yes, many times. I love it. Where is your favorite place to vacation? To Disneyland, the beach, and this resort town near me when it snows. have you ever dated someone who was married? No. Do you feel like your the one who gives the most in your relationship? That is how it was, yes. I always feel like I give more, care more, hurt more. Do you go to school, if so where, and what are you studying? I graduated. Do you often think you would be better off alone? Yes, which is why I say it’s probably best I’m single forever. Looks like that’s how it will be anyway. How often do you drink alcohol? I don’t drink anymore. Do you smoke cigarettes, what kind? No. Is their someone in your life you know you couldn’t live without? Yes, my family. What do you do when your bored? I do the same things whether I’m bored or not. My days consist of resting, Tumblr, surveys, reading, and watching TV. Is there someone that you think about more that 10 times a day? Yes. What’s your favorite kind of shampoo? Pantene or Herbal Essence, but I have to use a special shampoo for red dyed hair.

Favorite bodywash? I just use Crest soap. What kind of perfume do you wear? I only have one by Katy Perry. I haven’t worn it in awhile. Do you like your hair? What color and style is it? I like it when my roots aren’t overgrown as much as they are right now. I like it when it’s all dyed red. My hair is long, the tips reach my thighs. I have layers, but they’ve grown out a lot. My only style really is I part my side bangs to the right. If you could tell someone something right now what would it be? I don’t even know anymore. I feel like it’s way too late now. Who would you tell that to? Sigh. It doesn’t matter. Do you think you will be successful if what you want to do with your life? I don’t know what I want to do with my life, sooo. Whats something that keeps you going when you feel like you’re falling apart? I keep going for my family and because I feel like I don’t have any other choice. And now my faith and relationship with God. Trust me, it doesn’t mean I don’t struggle cause I do. I am. Do you have a close relationship with your parents? Yeah. My mom is my best friend. Whats your favorite food? Chicken tenders, pizza, onion rings, burritos, spaghetti and meatballs, and cheeseburgers. Do you read very often? Not anymore. :/ I really need to start again. I was reading so much everyday and I miss it. How do you unwind after a long day? If I actually go somewhere and run some errands, go shopping, or whatever then when I get back I change back into my comfy clothes and get on Tumblr. Do you believe you can love someone you hardly know? No.

About how long does it take you to get ready in the mornings? Ha that sounds like I actually get ready every morning. I only get ready if I’m actually going out somewhere, and that’s not all that often. And by “get ready” I mean that these days, I just get dressed, brush my teeth, and brush my hair. I don’t even bother with makeup much anymore. Where do you stand on body piercings and tattoos? Do you. How long have you lived where you live now? I’ve lived in this city my whole life. If you were granted one wish what would you ask for? Good health. If you want something bad enough do you believe it will happen? No. It’s not enough to just want it. I’d be happy and have good health if that were the case. How often do you get what you want? I don’t know. Do you like name brand things? I mean, sure. Some things it doesn’t matter. What do you put on when you want to feel beautiful? Nothing I wear makes me feel beautiful.

What are your favorite kind of shoes? Sneakers. Do you get compliments a lot? No. Do you believe in yourself, do other people believe in you? No, I don’t believe in myself. My family does... I just feel bad because I feel like I’m letting them down. What did you want to be when you were a child? A teacher. What do you want to be now? I don’t know. Is there something that means more to you than anything in the world? My family. Whats your favorite word? Coffee. Ha.

What did you do today? It’s almost 4AM and so far I’ve done surveys and read/studied a chapter in the Bible. Do you think you can handle life on your own? Noooo. How are you feeling about the way your life is going? Depressed, frustrated, hopeless. Do you think more than 5 people love you? Yes. Have you ever know someone whose actions honestly made you sick? Yes. Do you still talk to that person? No. Do you think that sex is over-rated? No. What was the last movie you watched? Sing How many texts do you send and receive a day? Usually, none. Some days just a few exchanges with my parents or brother, but that’s about it. What song are you listening to right now? I’m not. Do you listen to music or watch tv before or while in bed? Yeahhhh. What plans do you have for tomorrow? I don’t have any plans for tomorrow.

#personal #text #survey #surveys

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ellenlucasonlinedatingblog · 5 years

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Mythbusting The HPV Vaccine

Emily Joy Allison-Hearn

I’m an HPV vaccine evangelist. Every opportunity I get, I stand on my metaphorical soap box and preach to everyone who will listen about why it’s so important to get vaccinated against HPV. But it wasn’t always like this.

January is Cervical Cancer Awareness Month! If you need help finding or accessing a healthcare provider so you can get the HPV vaccine, we’re happy to help you through one of our direct services.

I’m an HPV vaccine evangelist. Every opportunity I get, I stand up on my metaphorical soap box and preach to everyone who will listen about why it’s so important to get vaccinated against HPV. But it wasn’t always like this.

The summer before I went to college, I had to get a mole removed from around my knee. For the first time in my life, at the age of 18, I was alone with a doctor for a few moments without my mother in the room.

The doctor wisely took the opportunity to ask me if I was sexually active, and I told her the truth: No. I wasn’t. She looked back at me skeptically, but I repeated myself. No. I wasn’t. At that point, I hadn’t even so much as had my first kiss. I think we talked about the HPV vaccine Gardasil, which had just come out several years before, but my primitive understanding of it was that it was only for girls who were having sex—and since I obviously was saving sex for marriage and obviously would only marry a man who had done the same, I obviously didn’t need it.

At the time, I wasn’t even exactly sure what HPV was, or how it was different than HIV or any other sexually transmitted infection. The discussion of any STI, in detail, had not been part of my hardcore abstinence-only, save-your-first-kiss-for-marriage “sex education.” I knew they existed, and I (thought I) knew you only got them if you were bad. Since I was on my way to Bible college, I wasn’t exactly anticipating what Michael Scott in The Office refers to fondly as a “booze-fueled sex romp.” In fact, I remained sexually inactive throughout my undergrad degree, only getting brave enough to test the waters of the sexual ocean once I had moved across the country and started over in a city far away from everyone and everything I had grown up with. But I still didn’t get the HPV vaccine.

A couple of years later I was engaged to my then-fiancé, only the second man I had ever had any kind of sexual interaction with, and made an appointment to see a gynecologist. At that point I'd learned enough to know that the HPV vaccine was an important thing to have regardless of who you’ve slept with. I started the first round of three shots.

Imagine my surprise when, a couple of months before my wedding date, I was told by the doctor that a small growth that had popped up suddenly on my bottom lip was caused by a strain of HPV. I was devastated, primarily because I had no real education about HPV, including how easy it is to get and how many people get it. I thought I had done something wrong, and all those years of internalized slut-shaming came crashing down on me in one giant wave. All the things I had heard my parents and youth leaders and professors and friends say about “those kinds of girls” must be true about me now.

I didn’t know there were more than 100 different kinds of HPV, many of which don’t cause serious problems and will even usually clear on their own in a matter of months—and mine eventually did. I didn’t know that most people who have ever been part of some kind of sex or sexual assault—80% or more—are infected with some strain of HPV at some point in their life, and a lot of the time they have no idea.

I also didn’t know that it’s perfectly normal. All I knew was a bunch of myths and half-truths that had been perpetrated by leaders of my communities who were more concerned with getting young people to fall in line with their rigid sexual strictures than actually educating or protecting anyone.

I finished the course of the vaccine that year, so now I’m protected for life from the most dangerous strains of HPV—the ones linked to cervical cancer and genital warts.

My own experience with a benign strain of HPV gave me the opportunity to learn about the virus and educate myself about the facts so that I can protect myself and my partner(s) going forward. But no one should have to get an infection to get medically accurate information about it! So if you, like me, grew up in purity culture, where you were taught that the only acceptable expression of sexuality was between a cishet man and a cishet woman in marriage and anything else outside of that is a sin—and critical medical information was withheld from you as a result—I’ve collected a few common myths (and the truth they seek to cover up) about HPV and the HPV vaccine that get circulated in religious environments.

MYTH: Only sexually active girls/people need the HPV vaccine.

FACT: The HPV vaccine is often given as young as 11 or 12, long before most young people usually become sexually active in the ways HPV is most often transmitted. The HPV vaccine is intended to protect you throughout your lifetime from the most dangerous strains of the virus, regardless of your current state of sexual activity (or lack thereof). It’s a vaccine for everyone of every gender, and you can get it until you're 45 now, whether you've had sex or not.

MYTH: If you’re planning on saving sex for marriage, you don’t need to get the HPV vaccine.

FACT: Planning on saving sex for marriage or for a committed relationship is a perfectly valid choice, but we all know that things don’t always go as planned. In addition, there’s no guarantee that the person you marry will have never been exposed to HPV in the past. Even if you do actually save sex for marriage and marry someone who has also saved sex for marriage, statistics say that one out of every six women and one out of every thirty-three men will be the victim of an attempted or completed rape during their lifetime, which is another way people can contract HPV. No one ever expects to be a victim, but being protected from the most dangerous strains of HPV is never a bad thing.

MYTH: People who have sex outside of marriage deserve to get HPV because they are violating God’s law.

FACT: Nobody “deserves” to get any kind of sexually transmitted infection or other illness, ever. STIs and pregnancy were often touted as divine consequences for stepping out from “God’s plan for sex,” but it’s just not true. I don’t think any god that would punish people by giving them an STI that could cause cancer and death is worth knowing or maintaining a relationship with.

MYTH: The HPV vaccine will increase your risk of cervical cancer/cause you to lose your vision/make you infertile/change the appearance of your vulva/give you PCOS/other side effects.

FACT: The HPV vaccine will not increase your risk of cervical cancer or any other kind of cancer for that matter. It will not cause you to lose your vision. It will not make you infertile. It will not change the appearance of your vulva. It will not give you PCOS. All of these myths and more were made up, often by anti-vaccination fear-mongerers who are typically invested in controlling people and sexuality, and especially young women’s sexuality. There is zero medical or scientific evidence supporting any of those claims.

The HPV vaccine lowers your risk of cervical cancer because it protects against the strains of HPV that are themselves linked to the development of cervical cancer in the first place. Claims that the HPV vaccine has wild side effects like those listed above are rooted in ideology and anecdote, not in science and study.

MYTH: The HPV vaccine makes young girls/people more sexually active because the fear of getting HPV is gone.

FACT: Getting the HPV vaccine has been shown to have nothing to do with how sexually active young people are. In fact, a study recently published in Pediatrics found that “implementation of HPV legislation was not associated with changes in adolescent sexual behaviors.” The HPV vaccine only protects against certain strains of HPV—the ones that are associated with cervical cancer and with genital warts. It does not protect against all strains of HPV, and it does not protect against other STIs or against unplanned pregnancy. There is no reason getting the HPV vaccine would cause a generation of young people to make different sexual choices than they otherwise would. There are lots of ways to have safer sex, and the HPV vaccine is only one of them (and again, is important even for people who are not having sex). And beyond that, it’s important to remember that using fear as a motivator is not a very good way to make ethical decisions! All of our decisions, sexual or otherwise, should be born out of careful thinking, wisdom, and reflection on our values, rather than fear and panic.

Did you hear any of these myths growing up? Maybe you have friends who still believe them. Share this post and we can help bust the myths about the HPV vaccine so more and more people can get protected!

For more information about HPV, be sure to check out The STI Files: Human Papillomavirus (HPV).

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fancycollectionfury-blog1 · 6 years

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