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doorsclosingslowly · 3 years

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This Is the Time of Our Great Undoing

“Do you think Kaz could fuck someone in a full-body bondage suit?” Jesper whispers, more to distract Inej from what’s on the screen than anything else, but still—the idea won’t leave Kaz alone.

5.8k | modern AU | Kaz[/&]Jesper, part of a polycule

content note: despite the premise this is about cuddling, gambling addiction and existing during climate change

It starts the way most things used to start: with all of them piled onto ancient couches on the fifth floor of an otherwise empty building on the edge of Amsterdam, also called the Slat. These days, it’s harder and harder to get everyone together. Nina and Matthias are both in Rotterdam now, doing associate degrees that Kaz doesn’t care about. Wylan’s got room and board and a plan for the future and a social worker, and she already disapproves of Jesper as a bad influence so it’s not worth it, generally, for Wylan to come back to his old squat and hang out with the whole gang of ex- and current reprobates.

And Inej—fuck, Kaz wishes she was just a little less righteous, less concerned with how the world’s going to shit. She’s faced off against more cops now than he has, probably. Water cannons and charging horses and riot shields. She knows criminals all over the country, Europe, probably the world—but they’re the kind of criminals with morals and worthless targets, with bandanas and badly sewn patches, who will talk about Federici and sea levels and the Invisible Committee and use value if you don’t leave quickly enough. The kind that live on trees, as Inej’s going to do in a few days. The kind that don’t make any money. The kind that have even less of a chance of making it out of a job alive and free than Kaz does—and with the enemies she’s talking about, politicians, banks, Shell, he doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to extort her out of jail next time.

For now, though, they’re all together in the big room, watching some ancient movie on the massive 8k screen with mood lighting, etc, the works, that’s in the Slat courtesy of some MediaMarkt manager desperate enough to save her marriage to bribe Kaz into silence, but not so desperate she wouldn’t fuck two other women in the breakroom.

It’s impossible to know whose fault it is that they’re currently watching Pulp Fiction.

Kaz is inclined to blame Jesper, because most things are his fault in some way or another, and he’s supplying the login data for an old uni flatmate’s streaming accounts, which is where they found that film, front and centre, paid to rent until tomorrow. Who even pays for films? If that’s the calibre of people they send to university these days, it’s no wonder the planet’s going to the dogs. Jesper, though, swears he wanted to watch some goofy horror flick, so he’s splitting the blame with Nina and Matthias: Matthias, for growing up in a cult and having never heard of what’s apparently a film classic and mentioning that to Nina, who of course cooed over her boyfriend and insisted on it, even though actually none of them have watched it before either so it’s not like it’s an important cinematic milestone. Or just not b horror, crime, some weird arthouse thing with complicated morality… It’s weird and has crime but there is nothing to figure out, so Kaz is bored. It’s Inej’s fault, because instead of vetoing it she said yes, just because she has a heart-shaped soft spot for Nina. Wylan could have done his oh I’m still an innocent barely-two-years not a minor this looks bloody thing, and Kaz might not even have mocked him this time if he'd insisted on Jesper’s pick instead just so he could hide in Jesper’s arms for the most minor decapitations.

Jesper’s been talking through the whole film. Kaz got used to that a long time ago: the landing and failing of small non-sequitur jokes like rain against the window, whispered to Wylan who’s cuddled into his side on the left, or to Inej who’s burrowing under Jesper’s outstretched right arm. Sometimes Jesper thinks a quip will land better with Nina, so he shouts it over to the futon where she and Matthias are always just shy of engaging in heavy petting, and the really mean and bleak jokes he saves for when he’s made eye contact with Kaz.

Now, though: in this scene Mr Motorcycle and the gang boss are captured in a pawnshop and dragged into the basement, and Gang Boss gets raped. Inej’s hand is white-knuckled on Jesper’s arm, and Jesper’s talking non-stop. He’s talking about the flooding, and asking whether Inej thinks Doggerland will happen again but here, soon, you can never know when the scientists are so wrong about the speed of climate change, and apparently it all flooded in a day because something broke off Norway, and then he abruptly pivots to some demo where he bashed in a shop window and got new shoes, and then if she’s got dates for more street fights because then he’s in but please, don’t trick me into another book club, I don’t care about why the cops are bad I already know I just want to hit them—not topics Kaz would have chosen, exactly, but he’s rooted in his red leather armchair off to the side, not even able to hold her for comfort, not like Jes does now, and why didn’t they think to look up the content beforehand, why did they assume it was tame just because it’s an old film—and then, long after it’s over, Jesper idly asks, “Do you think Kaz could fuck someone in a full-body bondage suit?”

Wylan groans. Kaz wishes a sound existed that could express his own current emotion.

“You saw the guy, right?” Jesper turns over to Wylan, while still stroking Inej’s hair. “There was no skin on him. All leather. And that’s the trigger, so—might solve all our problems. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!”

“I don’t see a huge difference,” Nina snipes. “Kaz is already in all-black, with gloves. Though I guess, that hood would hide his atrocious haircut…”

“Stop being so mean to Kaz, Jesper,” Matthias mumbles. “Although he does deserve it.”

Kaz downs his entire glass of vodka. When he tops his drink up for the second time—he exed the first refill right in the kitchen—he brings the bottle and some maracuja juice over and refills Jesper’s, too, because Jesper’s been anxiously glancing over at him, every moment he thinks Kaz has turned his head away, since he shot his stupid mouth off and actually, it’s—Kaz isn’t thinking about it now but it just might—maybe it could work—well, he fills up the glass to stop Jesper from worrying himself into yet another mental crisis and also so he can bend over Jesper’s ear and whisper lovingly, “I’m going to make the leather for the suit out of your skin.”

“We should look for an Ed Gein film next!” Jesper laughs, much more brightly than the joke warrants, and Kaz refuses to interpret the look on his face.

By the time Kaz gets back to the Slat, on a day roughly three months later, it’s long past two in the morning. He’s in a foul mood: of course Haskell won’t even reimburse him for the taxi he had to take because he missed the last metro. Of course he just told Kaz to take a night bus. Haskell won’t even apologize for the last minute details he wants included in his casino’s tax returns. The old man’s not even mentally capable of understanding the extra work he caused. Yes, Kaz is good at filing taxes creatively, exactly tailored for the business to pay nothing whatsoever and meticulous enough to never arouse any suspicion, but that takes work. Things have to balance. Haskell thinks Kaz just has to press a button, and that he’s paying Kaz so he doesn’t have to press the button himself, and that it’s only worth it because he doesn’t want to sully his mind with ‘the Spreadsheet Program’. Which is also why he’s loaning Kaz out to a friend of his, which he just remembered to mention today, for that guy’s mattress store slash money laundering business, so that’s even more work for nowhere near enough money.

Sometimes, Kaz amuses himself with the idea of sneaking in small ‘mistakes’. Enough for even the stupidest tax official to unravel the whole sordid scheme and land Haskell in prison for tax fraud, whereupon he’ll also be discovered to be involved with drug smuggling, blackmail, murder, … none of which will ever trace back to Kaz. But the one time he was livid enough to try, nothing happened. He’ll never manage to plunge the true depths of stupidity of an average bureaucrat, apparently, and is thus doomed to failure.

And anyway, it’s good regular money for little work. Usually. He can’t really complain. Especially not to his friends, because three are going legit, Inej will just rant about the uselessness of defrauding the Belastingdienst for a few measly million euros a year when the world’s being set on fire every day, and Jesper’ll tell him to quit, again, because they live in a squat after all. It’s not like they’re paying rent. Jesper’s never heard of forethought, or gratitude. He doesn’t know how many of his bills Kaz has paid off.

Kaz’s leg aches after the climb to the third story. Two more to go. As usual, right at this point he remembers the joke Jesper made eight months ago about fooling someone into installing a stair lift, and as usual, he dismisses it in disgust after two more steps. Stomps harder on the next flight of stairs, with grim satisfaction at the shooting pains in his knee. He doesn’t need help. He doesn’t need to move to a house with a working lift, and he doesn’t need a stair lift, either. Fuck you, Jesper. I’m the actual functional adult with a job in this household. I don’t need a stair lift.

That’s what he would throw at Jesper’s head, but it’s nearly three o’clock, and Jesper’s probably out. Over at Wylan’s, if he knows what’s good for him, but given how evasive he’s been all week, how manic… Inej’s still camping high up in some forest to save the frogs or something, but no news there is supposed to be good news. If the cops had chucked her off a tree house, it would have been on tv. About everything else, he can worry after he’s slept.

He doesn’t bother with the lights in his room. The streetlight coming in through his open curtains is more than enough, and anyway, he found the empty tenement he turned into the Slat five years ago, fully moved down here three years ago when he met Jesper, and he knows every single thing in his room by heart. The antique dresser he made Jesper and Matthias carry up with the threat of cutting off a finger for every scratch it received is next to the door, the place where he leaves his gloves and wallet and phone and cane. The coat rack beside it, where the hangers for his suit are, then the hamper, and at the foot of his bed the long black linen nightgown that Jesper’s never, ever allowed to see, and—

There’s a black shape on top of his bedcovers, Kaz realizes when he’s pulled on his nightgown.

Kaz takes his cane back. He hasn’t made any new enemies recently as far as he’s aware—none who know his name—but he was careless, brutal, desperate when he was a lone kid getting by on the streets, and those victims had gangs, families, business partners. Just because no-one’s ever traced little Kazzie the bastard rabid dog back to the Slat-that-wasn’t-then doesn’t mean a thing. The fact that the friends he started collecting press-ganged him into doing more behind-the-scenes embezzlement and fewer turf wars because ‘they’re watching us, they have all our faces and fingers and DNA on file and cameras everywhere and did you hear about that informer having kids with the activist he spied on?’ or the more pragmatic, ‘If you don’t stop fucking up your leg on purpose I’m going to send you to a kink party you fucking masochist’…

None of it means safety, not really, and Kaz is glad he’s alone now. They’ve all moved on, and even Jes… well, if he’d been here tonight then the whole squat would be trashed because Jesper doesn’t come quietly. And now, if he comes back to find Kaz gone or his throat slit… Jesper’s going to fucking collapse. He’s been one phone call away from going hysteric all week. Who knows, though—he has Wylan now, and maybe it’ll be the push he needed, the path none of them could ever find, to get his life back on a solid track.

All of that is presupposing that Kaz loses, of course.

And he does not intend to.

The weird black ninja on Kaz’ bed hasn’t reacted yet. They’re curled into a foetal position and they’re snuffling, quietly, because they’re asleep.

Not even assassins dressed up as b movie henchmen expect the toll taken by Per Haskell’s technical naïveté and utter disrespect for Kaz’ work-life balance, apparently. He got back home so late he missed his own murder. Well, then. Kaz hasn’t tortured anyone in two years and he may be out of practice, but the films he’s been forced to watch in the meantime have, if anything, made him more creative. He’ll teach them not to underestimate the brutality of Kaz Brekker, even when he’s moved up a few rungs in the ladder of Amsterdam’s underworld and landed a desk job.

He’ll—but Kaz hasn’t had to stalk silently towards his prey in two years, either. He’s underestimated the extent to which his lame leg’s gotten worse.

Also, someone’s pulled a box out from under his bed.

Kaz stumbles, and in the split-second before he catches himself on the edge of the mattress he wonders—will they have a gun? I can still bash them in the head before they fire, I haven’t gone that soft—and then the would-be assassin stretches out their lanky body as they wake up.

With their arms raised over their head, Kaz can see the bright white light of the street lanterns outside reflect off the gleaming black PVC fabric they’re wearing. Sleek and skin-tight, no ornamentation except a few steel buttons glinting at the crotch, and a full-cover leather hood over their face adorned with one-euro-sized rivets at the jaw, the forehead, the bridge of the nose, the large buckle around the neck. More buckles, at the back of the head and hanging off the right side at eye-height. The open silver zipper at the mouth reflects the streetlight, too, as does the padlock that hangs off it.

Oh no. Kaz knows that mask. Not even shoving it all the way back to the furthest corner under his bed allowed him to forget the way it looks.

Oh no.

Jesper yawns loudly. “Morning, boss. Evening. One of those. I thought you were finishing work early?”

“Haskell had some last-minute revisions to his tax returns.” Kaz sighs. “Don’t cook tomorrow. I’ll be out late for the whole next week—don’t expect me before three am. New client. I need to create a whole year’s documentations from scratch.”

“Just fuck him over, boss. He doesn’t appreciate you, and you don’t need the money. We live in a fucking squat.”

Sweet, financially illiterate nuisance Jesper, who probably doesn’t even know what that awful mistake he’s dressed in right now cost. The thing he’s dressed in. Which was hidden under Kaz’ bed. In Kaz’ room. Which they are inside right now. “You broke into my room,” Kaz rasps. “Again.”

“You know, Kaz,” Jesper replies with poorly feigned innocence, ”this thing is a little big for you. Fits me pretty well, though.”

“I told you I don’t keep cash under my bed. I told you that, the last time you tried to steal from me to pay off your gambling debts. I like my room organized as it is, and so I don’t keep any money here. Not under the bed, not in the wardrobe. And you won’t find any of my actual caches, because I’m smarter than you.”

“You’ve lied to me before.”

“You’ve stolen from me before. Remember last year? Remember you made Inej cry? I though you were clean. I thought you promised Wylan, when you asked him out, that you were done gambling. Maybe we all had too much trust in you.”

Jesper pulls his PVC-clad shoulders up to his en-leathered ears: a ridiculous sight, and Kaz doesn’t know what’s worse. That a bondage sex slave could actually look this dejected and humiliated and alone, or that Jesper does. He’s almost ready to call off the assault. It took a while to figure out, but as usual Inej was probably right, because she’s been researching and discussing the mental health industrial complex in general, and the traumatizing nature of modern life, with her comrades. Even though Kaz is neither the kind of person to touch people with kid gloves, and nor does he like thinking of Jesper as someone who needs that kind of handling—when Jesper’s in a shame spiral this deep then any criticism will drive him even deeper into the arms of the next casino. So the adrenaline and dopamine can wipe out everything else, or to feed his self-loathing even more by being exactly the person he’s terrified people think he is—Jes couldn’t quite explain it himself during the Intervention, except that everything is too much sometimes, even more too much and faster than usual.

He’s a pitiful creature. Kaz almost has pity. Then, though—

“It’s not working, boss. I know why you’re reminding me I fucking relapsed, again, and tried to steal from my best friend, again, and that I’m going to beg you to lie to Wy, again, but I still haven’t forgotten I’m wearing a bondage suit that you’ve been keeping under your bed for—two months now, is it?”

It’s just one month, actually. The manufacture and shipping took six whole weeks.

Two can play that game. Kaz might be very slightly embarrassed, but Jesper’s relapsed into the combination of addiction, theft and deceit that destroyed his life three years ago, and nearly did so again, two-and-a-half years ago and one year ago. “Careful. I haven’t even yet agreed to lie to Wylan, Jesper. About your problem. That you promised you’d tell him about.”

“Also, I notice it fits me, not Inej. Not Nina. Not Matthias. Not even Haskell, I bet. Me. Almost like it was made for me.”

Kaz ignores his insinuations. The answer’s obvious, anyway: yes, he did take clothes from the main washing pile in Jesper’s room and measured them. Yes, he used the measurements when he ordered a bondage suit. Yes, that’s creepy. Yes, a decent person would have asked. No, he’s not sorry. Jesper knew who Kaz was when he moved in with him. And it’s not like Kaz is the one who’s really at fault here. If Jesper just stopped gambling, he’d never have found out.

“Even attempted theft is illegal, Jesper. Completed robbery is worse. I cover my tracks, but you… you should be careful what you say now. They’re still looking for whoever robbed that jeweller last year.”

“Inej’s gonna cut off your head if you try. It’s like you never read her hoodies. All cats are beautiful, et cetera, Kaz. Thirteen-twelve. Keep up.”

Sometimes, the only thing that keeps Kaz from tossing Jesper out of the Slat is that Inej hates landlords and landlord-adjacents just as much as the pigs. If only he’d known back when he let the drunk penniless fancy uni boy who jumped into a fight to defend Kaz from some thugs—a fight Kaz would have won regardless—if only he’d known, before he let Jesper crash on his floor for a night or two, where all of this would end. “I’ll never mention anything about tonight again if you don’t either. Forget it. It was a bad idea. A failed plan. That’s all.”

“Without even trying it?”

“I will zip your mouth shut,” Kaz rasps. “I’ll lock it. I’ll throw the key into the harbour. Fuck you.”

Jesper, though, somehow got even mouthier when he put the bondage suit on. Less respectful. This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. “Come on, Kaz,” he wheedles. “I put it on, right? So I’m fine with it, if you’re worried. Aren’t you curious? If our places had been reversed—well, if you’d found it in my room you’d have murdered me, so we’re not exactly identical, but still. Come on, sit down next to me. This is—PVC right? Good job choosing me. Inej would hate it. So much plastic.”

“It’s less like skin than leather.”

“Not complaining, Kaz. I have some juice with a straw over there to keep me hydrated in case I sweat like a pig, but I haven’t, yet. I can probably camp out in this for a few more hours.” He tries a patented Jesper I’m flirting in an over the top way to make you laugh which is my flirting style for when I’m genuinely worried about the reaction because this way I can pass off exasperation and mockery as the response I intended look, probably with fluttering eyes, but since Kaz can barely make them out through those open zippers and the rest of his face is a complete mystery, it falls flat. It looks ridiculous, though, so it also works, and Jesper has the nerve of complaining about Kaz’ eight-dimensional chess plans. He’s worse. He’s worse, and animated by Jesper’s ridiculous, familiar movements the bondage suit doesn’t look like a pathetic attempt anymore. Not like the desperation of an emotional cripple. It just looks like Jesper, with an extra layer on his skin. Jesper, probably making a duckface, purring, “Don’t you think I’m sexy?”

Kaz looks away. “Are you serious right now?”

“Of course,” Jesper replies instantly, as if there was never any reason to doubt him. As if he doesn’t blame Kaz for doubting, simultaneously. As if Kaz is allowed to try. To fail. To fuck up, risk hurting him. There is a reason why Kaz never even considered someone else for the suit. “Come on, get on the bed.”

“We have to talk with Inej first. And with Wylan.”

“One-track mind,” Jesper replies, and just like that Kaz is ready to murder him again. “We’re not fucking. We’re not doing more than normal, except maybe touch. We don’t even know yet whether this helps you. I’m not risking it. We’ll just try touching, and if you think it’s triggering, we stop. We’ve got all the time in the world to work up to more. Until this city sinks into the ocean and the grid collapses from heat, which might be tomorrow, so. Or the fascists win.”

“You’ve been listening to Inej.”

“I do try to keep up.”

“Well, stop. Or listen more carefully, until the end, when she gets to the doomerism is the opiate of the masses part.”

“Just get on the bed, Kaz.”

Kaz puts his bent good knee onto the mattress and pulls himself over to Jesper. The fabric of his linen smock rubs against his heated skin: not like corpses, not like that, not like Jordie and he won’t even think about him or this will be over but—it just feels like his own familiar coarse age-softened nightgown that Jesper hasn’t even made fun of yet, his thin nightgown that in a second will be one of only two layers between him and Jesper.

He rolls over so he can sit down next to Jesper, at first. Daringly, he leans an arm against his best—well, they’ll figure that out later.

“Okay?” Jesper asks. He has to crane his head a lot to look through the thin eye slits of his bondage mask at Kaz’ face, and even then he’s probably mostly seeing the gleaming teeth of the eyehole zippers. And still he leans forward forty-five degrees and twists his torso and neck so he can look up into Kaz’ face, carefully keeping the arm that’s touching Kaz as motionless as possible, because he’s being careful with Kaz. Kaz has told him a thousand times he hates being coddled. He’s not a poor little abused dog, he’s a vicious murderer who destroyed his leg and his ability to be close to people while he was murdering, that’s all he ever told Jesper. That lie. And yet—even if he’s only fooling himself because this scene is so patently ridiculous, and the psych ward he got sent to once for the crime of rough sleeping while underage would stamp every single thing about what they’re doing as deeply unhealthy, and he can’t see Jesper’s soft concerned expression under the hood… Whatever it is, Kaz feels warm all over. He feels good. Safe.

Jesper can tell, apparently. “Want to touch my chest? Or climb into my lap?”

Kaz moves over, carefully smoothing down his nightgown before he sits down on Jesper, angled so he can lean with his left arm pressed against Jesper’s chest. It’s safer, somehow, than giving him the back, but perhaps someday…

Jesper loosely wraps his arms around Kaz. They’re just there, barely touching, the hands lax on top of Kaz’ right knee. You can leave at any time, they say, I’ll let go as soon as you’re uncomfortable, and Kaz would have known that regardless. Jesper’s never usually this still, unless he’s lost in concentration: and Kaz, who’s seen how gambling can destroy someone’s life, how it is currently destroying someone’s life, would still bet everything he has ever owned that Jesper’s concentrating on every single aspect of Kaz’ body language right now.

It’s not necessary, though. Those hands are gleaming black PVC. They don’t look or feel anything like Kaz’ memories.

He drops his own naked right hand onto Jesper’s gloved one. Joins them. Anchors Jesper. “How much do you owe this time, Jes?”

A beat. Jesper’s face drops down towards Kaz’ lap. Trying to hide his shame, and he’s forgotten that he’s wearing a full bondage mask, that Kaz can barely make out his eyes through the slits of the zippers. If he’s trying to deny everything, Kaz will just beat it out of him. He’s done it before. A year ago, when it was bad, but Jesper promised he got it under control. But Jesper’s promises were never worth much, not for this. If they were, they’d never have met.

“Four grand.”

“To?”

“Tom Geels. One of Big Bol’s old friends—”

“So he put you up to—”

“I was already playing when he walked up to me, Kaz,” Jesper grinds out. Aware that he could save himself from at least a little of Kaz’ disappointment by casting Bollinger as the tempter. Simultaneously aware that Kaz promised to feed Bollinger to a marine propeller last year if he ever took Jesper gambling again. Noble, to try and save Bollinger’s life—or to save Kaz from committing another murder—not that either of them deserves his loyalty. “I’ll pay you back, Kaz. I’ll have the money. Give me—give me half a year, Da’s still sending me—sending me rent money, Christ, he’s—I’ll save it. No, you’ll get it straight as soon as I get it, and in six months, you’re paid back in full. I promise.”

“We’ll figure it out. I have some jobs I could use you on. Nothing big. Intimidation, mostly. Some breaking, some entering. Boring stuff, not even worth mentioning to Wylan I should think.”

“Thank you.” Jesper’s forgotten all his restraint. He’s kissing Kaz’ forehead, or rather kissing the inside of his mask that’s pressed against Kaz’ forehead. He’s wrapped Kaz tightly in his long bondage arms too, painfully twisting Kaz’ shoulder and elbow and wrist because Kaz is still holding onto his hand. It’s that welcome pain, and the texture of the bondage suit that Kaz still isn’t completely used to, that keeps him from breaking Jesper’s nose. Keeps him—he isn’t back in the North Sea. He isn’t with Jordie. He should be, but he isn’t, and even if it comes…

Inej taught him about grounding. None of them trust the system as far as they can throw it, so she didn’t send him to a shrink when they started dating, unlike he feared, but—she said they helped her, those grounding exercises she found on the internet, and so Kaz has been diligently practicing breathing techniques and focusing his awareness on details of the present moment. Five things he can see: well, it’s dark, but the way what little streetlight gets through reflects off the folds of the suit on Jesper’s bowed stomach is quite interesting. His own knees. His hand, still clutching Jesper’s. The cane, on the floor. The floor. Five things he can hear: early morning traffic, Jesper’s breath, Jesper trying not to sob out loud in relief or shame or a mixture of both, the rustling of fabric, the squeaking of fabric. Five things he can feel: The old ache of his leg, always. Jesper’s hand. Jesper’s thighs. The hard buttons at the flap over Jesper’s crotch, digging into his side.

Somehow, Jesper’s noticed his shift in focus. At least he’s stopped crying now. “You know, you could have just asked how big I am if you wanted a suit with a dick pouch,” he teases in a voice that almost manages to sound happy. “I wouldn’t even have been suspicious.”

“Just because you have no boundaries, Jes, doesn’t mean I have to sink down to meet you at your level.”

Jesper takes a big breath. To forestall the whole Who bought this bondage suit argument Kaz elbows him in the stomach, hard. Once Jesper’s done coughing—a wriggling movement against Kaz’ side that he’s never even felt before—he mumbles something else, though. “I texted Da my new number. He called last week. Wanted to know how I was doing,” and oh. That makes sense. That’s what did it. “Apparently I’m graduating in seven months, according to that fake schedule you made me so I could keep my lies straight. He wants to come to the graduation. He asked me whether I have a job lined up.”

“I could hire somebody to fake you a degree,” Kaz offers. This should be Inej’s job. She shouldn’t be off somewhere, saving grasshoppers. She should be here. She’s the one who tried to talk Jesper into coming clean to his father, last year. All Kaz knows, all he has ever done, is to keep digging, and it’s worked for him. So far. “It’s all the rage now I hear. Cheap, too. No-one will find out. Just don’t become a politician in Germany.”

Jesper sighs. The air kisses the back of Kaz’ neck. “I don’t even care anymore. I could have a degree, or not, it all doesn’t matter. Universities are a scam to regulate economic class relations anyway. I don’t know that I can keep lying forever, or get a job, just so I don’t have to tell Da I betrayed him. Because nothing matters anyway. We’re collectively throwing the future down the drain. It’s not like anyone needs another mechanical engineer when we hit four degrees. I don’t know what we need. I just know everything I know is pointless.”

“I’m sure Inej can hook you up, if you want to blow up a coal power plant.”

“But what about you, then? What would you do?”

“I could have you kidnapped,” Kaz says. That’s not what Jesper meant. Kaz refuses to think about what Jesper meant. “Fake your death. Colm will be so relieved when they find you that he won’t even care you failed all your studies so you could become a live-in human blow-up doll.”

“That’ll only keep Da happy for a year at most and you know it.”

“Well, then Colm’s just going to have to get used to it. Get used to you, like we did. Real, annoying, good-for-nothing directionless screw-up Jesper.”

Jesper rubs his leathered cheek against the crown of Kaz’ head. “Fuck you. Thanks.”

Kaz runs his fingers over the squeaky PVC on Jesper’s forearms, steeling himself before he whispers idly against Jesper’s neck, “If Inej’s right about the warming and the sea level over the next decades, it won’t just be refugees from the south we’re letting drown, people it’s easy to lock out. Maybe you’re right about the Doggerland thing, and we all get flooded.” He swallows. The words are high up in his throat, trying to spew out. “Then it won’t just be one stupid child with a stupid family going out boating in the North Sea when there’s a storm coming. Not just that one kid thrown out of a sinking boat nearly drowning and clinging to his brother’s corpse. Your blow-up doll skills will be in high demand if everyone else gets triggered by skin contact too.”

Jesper, miraculously, reveals a talent Kaz didn’t even know he possessed: he shuts up. He ghosts his gloved hands over Kaz’ shoulders, and then he starts carding his fingers through Kaz’ hair. Kaz can feel the static electricity building up, the crackles and the safety, and then he realizes his eyes have drifted shut. He realizes he doesn’t know how long Jesper’s been petting him.

“Take off your hood,” he mumbles.

“Kaz?”

“Take it off. Scuttle over so your head’s on the pillow.”

Jesper obeys, like Kaz always knew he would. He looks up at Kaz with something that might be confusion but might also be—trust and deep joy and more, something Kaz can’t quite admit anymore now he’s in his bed, and Kaz puts his head down on his chest. His legs will still fit, and this way, he has the squeaky PVC right where he needs it. Squeaky, rhythmically rising warm dry plastic under him. The exact opposite of a waterlogged corpse.

“I don’t have time to call you an ambulance when you get into a bondage suit erotic asphyxiation incident, just so you know. I have a full schedule for today, remember. I’ll be at Haskell’s until after midnight. I have to break Bollinger’s thumbs. My alarm is at seven. Turn it off and I’ll send you to Colm in bite-sized pieces,” Kaz rasps, and then, with a movement that no-one would call timid if they wanted to keep their tongue attached, wraps his arms around Jesper. “You’ve kept me awake for two hours, so be a good pillow. If I kick you off the bed while I’m dozing, remember. This is your fault.”

#jesper fahey #kaz brekker #kaz x jesper #dimtraces makes things #shadow and bone #shadow & bone

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randomingoftherandomness · 4 years

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so i was looking over random notes of mine for other ideas in other fandoms and it hit me, Booker gets his shit together, maybe starts seeing a therapist, and he realizes he thrives on homemaking, he accidentally befriends his neighbors or his neighbor's kids, at some point they have a crisis where the kids need watching but there's no one to watch and insert Booker, yada yada, kids love him, parents can relate, he accidentally becomes the go-to baby sitter, blablablah Accidental Daycare Booker

and this daycare nonsense is of course going on during The Exile™ so TOG doesn't know shit until something happens and they worry somehow Booker's gonna End Up In It Too but what they find is a smiling, happy, thriving man, sitting in a pile of small children reading aloud, & those kids LOVE him alright, & the parents ADORE him, & of course they know a sanitized version of him losing his own kids so they EMPATHIZE with the poor man with no family, ,,,until of course TOG stumble in like "waht?"

also (sorry for not numbering these i literally didn't mean to keep coming up w/ more ideas so this is #3) since you ruined my brain for it, ot3 so of course Joe sees this glowing happy Booker doting on these amazing small babies & just-- collapses because cuteness & overload, his poor poetic soft heart can't take it, but Nicky's not doing much better he forgot how to language halfway through a word & is trying to catch Joe but poor Nicky, he can't tear his eyes away & only one arm is working

AHHHHHH JORDGE I AM SOFT AND FERAL FOR THIS

I can already see how he goes to his knees to speak to the kids at their eye level and treats them with the utmost respect and gravitas. And those kids love him. Like, love the absolute cotton socks off of him.

Anita attempts to run away when her little brother was born and thinks her parents love her less and goes right to Booker because his house is right at the end of the street and that’s the furthest she’s ever walked alone, who makes her hot chocolate and puts on Inside Out and calls her parents to tell them that he will talk to her and get her back by bedtime. Phillipe and James who are adopting but worry about whether they’d be good parents and Booker becomes their confidante and helps them make sense of the red tapes and bureaucracies - which is easy coz governmental firewalls are nothing to the man who helped set them in place in the first place.

The Martin children who were new to the neighbourhood with parents who were clearly trying to save their marriage to very little success, so they hang out in Booker’s backyard when the fighting gets too loud and he always keeps a key under the frog-shaped pot in case he is at his weekly therapy sessions and they need a glass of water or something. Juliette who was leaving for uni next year but feels overwhelmed about leaving her family comes over for a chat and soon enough some of the older kids in the neighbourhood come by too.

Booker keeps his pantry stock with snack and food options because he can never know who’ll show up - whether it was one of the parents or the kids - so he is always prepared. In turn, the community rapidly weaves him into their lives; he takes summer holidays with his neighbours and everyone plans their Christmas parties so that he can attend each and every one.

And then one day, he manages to pull one of the younger Martin children from a tree but not before the boy sprains a wrist on the fall. Booker brings the neighbourhood brood along with him to the hospital and it’s nothing big and the child was none the worse for wear, but somehow his name pings in the hospital’s system and it brings his family to Paris because hey, his name pinged in a hospital’s system. Andy is worried because she’s mortal now, so what if Booker is too and what if this is a catalyst for him to try yeeting himself off this mortal coil. Joe and Nicky are on tenterhooks the whole time because Booker was and is their lover and while they still need time to heal from the hurt, the idea that Booker is hurting and they’re not there by his side is something they can’t abide by. Nile is just resisting the urge to bang her head on a table because this worry and stress could have been avoided if they’d just listened to her and talked to the man.

Booker isn’t in the hospital obviously but he is at the address he leaves at the hospital. They arrive, ready to spirit him away if they need to, only to find the house filled to the brim with people and laughter and happiness. A teenage girl opens the door and asks if they’re Basti’s friends because they’re out of ice and could they go get some, please? There’s a game on where the clear team supporters are religiously gathered around. In the kitchen, there is something like a cooking marathon happening and the dining table is bowing under the food piled on it. It is simultaneously chaotic and homely and Joe stops a man with a baby to ask where ‘Basti’ is.

They’re all directed to the backyard where Booker is seated on the grass with a small gathering of children and teenagers who are lounging with their books and phones while Booker is reading out loud to the youngest members of this group. The child on his lap has a cast on his arm and sucking on a thumb but seems to be transfixed and calm as Booker does the voices to Beauty and the Beast.

Booker looks radiant and content and healthy and hale and he smiles easily when the children cuddle closer to him and demand for his attention. Joe is struck breathless by the almost unrecognisable way Booker looks in that he is so soft and content and so very alive, while Nicky is speechless at how much his heart spills with love at the kindness he sees in the way Booker treats the children around him and how his home is so filled with people who clearly care and are comfortable with Booker in their lives.

Andy is confused as hell and Nile is ready to drag them all out because Booker seems to be doing well but they do not need to have their reunion right here and now because there are too many strangers around them right now. And that is when Booker looks up to see, oh, it’s them and his face changes from relaxed and calm to tense and guarded. Which doesn’t go unnoticed by the children.

Who all move to put themselves in front of Booker. The Immortals are highly befuddled.

#i think there's enough here for a full length story that i will never write lol #booker loving hours are never off at Chez Gab #joe x booker x nicky #booker x joe x nicky #joe x nicky x booker

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tardis-stowaway · 5 years

Text

Ten years after the Not-pocalypse, Adam Young, age 21 and recently graduated from university:

-Works in a crappy retail job and lives in a tiny, crappy flat in London

-The crappy flat has no sound insulation, so he’s always hearing the absurd amount of movement from the people in the flat above and the really loud but not quite intelligible conversations from the people in the flat next door. It’s a long way to the nearest public park, and he misses the green of home.

-Is not all that good at his customer service job, with the exception that if a customer is irrationally angry about something, he says he wants to make sure he understands the problem and repeats their complaint back to them with this look in his eyes, and they universally back down and often apologize. His coworkers love him for it. Everything else is just drudgery.

-Single, despite his best efforts. Okay, maybe not his best efforts, but some efforts.

-Knows that his childhood was uncommonly idyllic at least partly due to his powers. He’s not entirely sure how his life went quite so off the rails lately.

-Maybe his powers have faded gradually since he rejected his destiny, or maybe it’s just that on some level he absorbed the expectation that being in one’s early 20’s means being broke and a little lost, and the expectation made it happen whether he wanted it or not.

-Or maybe he just should’ve chosen a more employable course of study at uni instead of comparative religion. In his defense, it seemed relevant to his life.

-Spends much of his free time on climate crisis activism. He’ll be damned (ha) if he stood against the forces of Heaven and Hell, the Four Horsepeople of the Apocalypse, and his own birthright to preserve the continuing existence of humanity on the Earth only for humans to blunder into destroying themselves unintentionally through greed and shortsighted decisions.

-He’s been doing this since he was twelve, when Brian sent the Them’s group text an article about the group Extinction Rebellion with the caption “named for us?? :)” Adam had laughed, then actually read the article. Within a week he’d convinced the Them and a dozen of their classmates to show up at the next town council meeting with a list of sustainability demands.

-No matter how many civil disobedience events he takes part in, he never seems to get arrested. Adam suspects it’s his supernatural entity privilege. Pepper says it’s probably mostly that he’s white and great at charming his way out of trouble.

-He’s still friends with all of the Them, but they don’t live especially close together. He does have a flatmate, an American who Adam met at uni.

-At this point you, a genre-savvy reader of much Good Omens fic and meta, are probably seeing the word “American” and thinking that Adam is flatmates with Warlock Dowling. For once, you are wrong.

-Adam’s flatmate is Jesus.

-Not Jesus Christ, but a young man named Jesus Dominguez, pronounced the Spanish way (like hay-soos).

-Jesus is from Southern California, and he talks more than a little bit like a surfer stereotype. He’s got warm brown skin, shoulder-length dark hair in perpetually-mussed waves, and a little beard. He’s kinda leaning into the look to mess with people, but it’s also the same style found on at least a third of the other male-presenting hipsters in London.

-When he learned that he was going to share a flat with someone named Jesus, Adam called Crowley and Aziraphale. He’s never been gladder that he stayed in touch with them, because he NEEDED someone who understood how the Antichrist and Jesus sharing a flat sounded like the setup for a joke or a sitcom. Crowley did indeed laugh out loud, then told Adam that as a fellow lapsed member of the forces of Hell, he could personally recommend sharing quarters with a heavenly adversary. Aziraphale just muttered “oh, stop” at Crowley.

-Adam moved to London because it was easier to get to the important protests there, and because he was curious. He spent the first six months desperately homesick for Tadfield. The city was so crowded but somehow he still felt so alone, other than Jesus.

-Then a midnight fire-alarm in their building sent him and Jesus into the streets along with dozens of their neighbors. Adam finally met the people in the flat above theirs who made all that moving around noise. They were an older couple who took ballroom dancing lessons at the senior center and liked to practice at home. Mrs. Kapoor tried to teach Adam how to foxtrot right there on the pavement in the middle of the night. He stepped on her feet, but since he was in bare feet and she’d actually taken the time to find shoes it wasn’t a big deal.

-Meanwhile Jesus was finally talking to the loud young men from next door. By the time Adam wandered over, Jesus had learned their names (Leon, Seamus, and Nazim) and secured an invitation for the two of them to come over to watch Saturday’s football match, and to join their next D&D campaign (“just no more paladins,” said Nazim). Adam looked forward to finding out whether it was the D&D or the football that was the cause of more yelling.

-As the evacuation stretched on with no hint of either actual fire or clearance to go back inside, the building’s children began to get fussy. Adam found a coin on the ground (successfully picking it up, because Crowley didn’t make it to this neighborhood very often) and proceeded to distract them with stage magic.

-He initially learned stage magic from Aziraphale, but he’s better at it than the angel ever was. He hardly cheats physical reality at all. The kids love it.

-When the fire department finally gives them the clearance to go back inside, Adam’s stomach rumbles. “Is anyone else hungry?,” he asks, to a chorus of agreement. It’s too late for any nearby takeout, but Jesus chats with their neighbors about options.

-Jesus enlists Adam’s help in going from flat to flat gathering ingredients from everyone, and before long they’re serving fish tacos and grilled cheese sandwiches to a small crowd of pajama-clad people. It’s 2 am, but everyone is smiling, or at least has contentment at the edge of their yawns.

-The next day, Mrs. Kapoor brings Adam and Jesus a spider plant cutting, because she thought their flat looked too bare. Adam texts a picture of it to Crowley and receives back lengthy instructions on watering, pot size, soil, and the most effective threats for the species.

-Five months later, the local planning council has an intense debate about why crime rates in one neighborhood have dropped by 75% since their last meeting. They each try to claim credit for their pet civic projects. Actually, it’s because Adam Young has started to love London, or at least his nook of it.

-Buskers soon realize that certain tube stops are generating far more tips than they ever have before, with no obvious demographic shift accounting for the change. The common ground is that these are the stops on Adam’s commutes to work and his activist meetings. He can only occasionally spare a tip himself, but his enjoyment of the music is contagious.

-Even after the breakthrough, not every day is good. On a late summer day that just happens to be the anniversary of the day the world didn’t end, Adam comes home from a protest fuming.

-“Dude, you okay?” asks Jesus, looking up from his guitar. (Jesus sometimes goes to protests with Adam, but not usually the ones where they’re planning on breaking laws. “I’m a brown-skinned foreigner, man. Do you think I’ll get away with what you get away with? I’m not ready for that yet,” he says, and Adam can’t argue.)

-“The media barely showed up at our event, probably because it was about a million degrees and even though that’s exactly what we’re protesting, nobody wants to be out in it. Six of our people passed out from the heat and three got arrested. They still didn’t arrest me, but I got pushed over and cracked my phone screen. On my way home, some drunk on the tube vomited on my shoes. Our green jobs bill still doesn’t have the votes in Parliament, and have you seen the latest news on the Antarctic ice sheets?” Adam kicks off his shoes, then collapses dramatically onto the futon and groans.

-“Sounds rough,” says Jesus.

-“I should’ve just ended the damn world when I was eleven and I had the chance. Would’ve been quicker,” Adam mutters.

-Jesus gets up and goes to the kitchen. He brings Adam a beer. “You don’t mean that, bro,” he says.

-Adam sighs, accepting the beer. “I suppose not.”

-He drinks his beer. Dog, now grey-muzzled and slow, shuffles over to curl up at his feet. Adam pulls out his phone, which is cracked but still seems functional. He’s got a text from Aziraphale.

-“Dear Adam,” the text begins, because Aziraphale might have finally deigned to learn to text but he steadfastly refused to adopt its stylistic conventions, “I hope that you have returned safely from today’s protest. I’m very proud of your continuing efforts, and though he won’t admit it I know that Crowley feels the same. Please write back at your earliest convenience. Fondly, Aziraphale”

-Adam texts back to reassure the angel, who will doubtless pass it on to Crowley, then he texts similar reassurances to his parents and to Mrs. Kapoor upstairs. He’s still figuring out this adulthood thing, but he’s got a lot of parental figures looking out for him. His Infernal Bio-Dad isn’t one of them, and that’s the way Adam likes it.

-Through the open window comes the sound of music blasting from a car stuck in traffic below. Freddie Mercury and David Bowie are singing:

And love dares you to care for the people on the edge of the night, And love dares you to change our way of caring about ourselves.

-He turned down the chance to rule the world, and he’d make the same choice again, but he still feels a certain proprietary responsibility towards the planet and its inhabitants. His father—his real, earthly father—didn’t raise him to shirk responsibility, and he’s not one to cave under pressure.

-Life is hard, people are mostly idiots, and the world is coming apart at the seams, but it’s his messed up life and his idiotic people and his beautiful, half-broken world.

#good omens #adam young #good omens headcanons #fanfic #post-canon #please excuse any errors and americanisms #long post #tardis-stowaway's writing & stuff

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philip-seville-archive · 3 years

Text

You’re My Number One || Tap

Summary: Tad comforts Pip post Phinnip beach fight and it inspires a teeny tiny talk about the future.

@i-am-obnoxious

Pip Seville

It did not take long to find Tad-- though they had not been dating long, naturally his boyfriend would not be far from the beach. And indeed, there he was, wading in the water, doing...something. Pip didn't care actually, he just needed to vent hardcore and that was exactly what a boyfriend was for.

"Oh my god, Tad, you will not believe the weird fucking conversation I just had with Phineas!" he launched right into it, kicking off his sandals so he could let the edges of the water roll over his toes. "UGH he's like so fucking infuriating I could scream right now!"

Samwise Theodore Tad Fiske

Tad had mostly been splashing around in the water, yeah. He didn't go far in, mostly cause people were still weird about some Jaws situation or whatever. He wasn't that worried though. Shark attacks were like super rare and stuff.

His head jerked up as Pip came rushing over, eyes wide as he moved closer to his boyfriend, arms up. "Woah woah babe. Your vibes are like off the chart." He reached out to tug Pip in for a hug. "You wanna like breathe for a sec my d- babe? It's like a big puff in and out. It's seriously...super good when like the vibes of the universe are off balance."

Pip Seville

Pip appreciated the hug. Tad was warm and his clothes always had this lingering scent of chlorine from his swim practices, which Pip always found relaxing, like...Tad's aura was a spa or something.

He did not, however, appreciate being told to breathe.

"I know how to breathe," huffed Pip a bit impatiently. "I don't need to breathe, I need to rant. Out of nowhere, he just started attacking my life choices. Actually--it wasn't out of nowhere, I remember now. It was exactly right after I complimented him. How messed up is that? And he was like, oh going to NYC is so selfish and you're abandoning all your friends. Like what the fuck?"

Samwise Theodore Tad Fiske

Woah. The vibes were way harsh for his babe, which was seriously not chill. It made Tad's vibes like the sea on a stormy day. He didn't want his babe to be upset and stuff. Though he also...didn't quite get why Phineas would harsh Pip's vibes like this.

"So like...." Tad looked like he was struggling to process a difficult math problem. A lot of computing was going on and it took him a moment to try to connect. So Phineas didn't like NYC. Or he didn't vibe with Pip going because Pip was awesome and who would want Pip to leave? That'd be sad vibes sure...

But why would Phineas get all ragey vibes? Unless he was like Tad, and totally vibed with how super mega foxy and awesome Pip was. "Woahhhhhh.....Phineas totally likes you babe."

Pip Seville

Pip did not need much to comfort him, so he liked to think. A soothing hand on the back. A shoulder to cry on, if crying was necessary. A promise to commit murder against the one who wronged him. Tad could even have said 'Dude, that sucks," and Pip would have nodded vigorously, feeling seen.

He was not expecting whatever the HELL just came out of Tad's mouth.

"What?!" Pip blurted, loud. "Wh-- no. No, aw, you're-- that's actually kind of sweet, I think, I don't know, because I marvel at how your brain works but-- no, trust me he definitely does not. This is not Mindy-Danny energy, this is more like..." what pop culture reference would Tad understand best? "Golem and Frodo. We both are very passionate about similar things, and would bite off each other's fingers to get said thing. Phineas is just trying to get under my skin."

Samwise Theodore Tad Fiske

"Aww but babe it's like...I get it kinda cause I'd be super sad to see you go but like...you're gonna be a rockstar and like sing and make everyone go woahhhh...." He squeezed Pip lightly. "But like that's your dream and stuff. Me I'd vibe in NYC and stuff. Y'know? Like...there are probably waves there somewhere..." He was pretty sure there was an ocean on that side of the states.

"But maybe Phineas gets like ragey instead of sad longingness vibes or something." He shrugged his shoulders. "I didn't say it made sense to be ragey vibes you know? But like...you're hot stuff babe."

Pip Seville

This was the most confusing, surreal pep talk that he'd ever had. And it was... turning him on?

Please see it from Pip's perspective: the moon behind Tad, as Tad held his hand and said all the right things and then some. That he was talented and destined for greatness, that Tad understood his dream, that Tad-- wait, he'd vibe in NYC? Wait, like...with Pip? As well? Together? At the same time? In the beautiful-ugly brownstone of Pip's wildest fantasies, where they'd host dinner parties and share a closet and he'd give Tad shoulder massages?!

You're hot stuff babe, said Tad, but it might as well have been a marriage proposal.

Wait. He was angry. Angry, not-- confused-overwhelmed-horny. Wow, having a boyfriend was a form of mind control, huh.

"I--" Pip was blushing deeply and stuttering now. "I...I really don't think he likes me but... so you're totally okay with me going to NYU?" was what he finally managed to get out of his mouth. Wow, he had forbid himself from talking about this until at least October, when early applications happened. Wtf Tad Fiske.

Samwise Theodore Tad Fiske

Maybe Pip didn't see how Tad saw things, at least about Phineas' weird crush energy. But Tad wasn't a super cool star in the making and stuff. Pip like sparkled dudes. He had sparkle lights around him. Every time he saw him, Tad felt even more of the gooey good vibes. It was impossible not to.

"I mean you were like totally planning it before we even started dating right babe? Would be kinda chaos energy vibes to be all mad about it." Which really didn't fit in with Tad's vibes at all. And anyway, New York seemed dope. Even if New Yorkers had this weird anti-LA vibe that LA people just...did not have. Whatever man. Tad vibed wherever he went.

Tad shrugged his shoulders. "If it makes you happy babe like yeah. Long distance people have vibed before. But like...I don't really feel the college vibe for me anyway so like...if we were still together and stuff I could go wherever. Open a hot dog stand...heard the hot dogs are seriously sick there, or like go pro surfer...woah imagine..."

Pip Seville

Okay, some of the NYC fantasies were dashed, drifting further and further with every word that Tad said and so Pip really had to stop him speaking. This was precisely why he had not wanted to talk about the big U word (uni) before October. For one, maybe he and Tad would break up! And another, why worry about it!

Why worry about the fact that Tad didn't want to go to college!

Why worry about the fact that Tad's dreams apparently amounted to open a hot dog stand.

One freak-out at a time please and-- wasn't it way sweeter to focus on the whole, Tad wanting to come to NYC for him and also his very open and generous statement about how getting mad at Pip was clearly crazy people behavior?

And so Pip just-- kissed Tad to stop him from imagining hot dog stands. And also to calm himself down-- kissing was infinitely better than breathing, so he leaned into Tad, let his arms wrap around his neck for just a few more moments before pulling away. "Thank you for being you," he said sincerely.

...Though he'd leave the parts of Tad that stressed him out for another time.

Samwise Theodore Tad Fiske

Pip kissed him and fireworks went off in Tad's head. It was awesome as always, and his arms drew Pip a little closer to him as they kissed. Man but no vibe was better than kissing Pip he was sure about it.

A smile spread across his face. "You're welcome babe. Thanks for being the best babe," he added, leaning in to kiss his nose. "My brain is all swirly every time you kiss me." He laughed. "What were we talking about?"

Pip Seville

Pip's brain also went swirly when he kissed Tad-- swirly like paint colours running down a canvas, all his usual worries drenched in rainbow so he didn't, well, worry at all. He emerged with fluttering eyes and the world a little kinder. So that weird fight with Phineas... it didn't seem like THAT big a deal. They'd probably just forget about it. Cuz like, fighting was what they did, right? Pip would pretend it never happened and he was sure Phineas would be happy to do the same thing; he hated actually talking about anything real.

Pip shrugged. "Oh nothing. Just Phineas being a dick to me. I don't care though, because his opinion doesn't matter to me. Yours does though. And you support me, because that's what you do when you care about someone." Pip grinned and kissed Tad's cheek.

Samwise Theodore Tad Fiske

"Oh yeah." Tad had kind of stopped caring about Phineas as soon as Pip kissed him. Sure, did he still think the dude had weird crush vibes? Yeah, but whatever. Pip was kissing Tad and stuff not him so it was all good.

"Yeah babe. I've got your back." He grinned, reaching up with one hand to stroke Pip's cheek. "You're like...my number one."

Pip Seville

You're like...my number one.

And Second Gen Legend BoA's song "Number One" burst through Pip's head, giving him the energy and confidence to do a drop-split in this second if he wanted. He wasn't going to because he'd mess up his trousers, but that's where he was emotionally.

And he decided then and there. He was going to help Tad. Yes. It was his job, because Tad was also his number one, and so he would clear a path to uni for Tad-- preferably to a school in an NYC area code! But hey, community colleges were great too!

He squeezed Tad's hand, his eyes wide and bright. "You're mine too. I--" LOVE YOU SO MUCH I THINK WE SHOULD RUN AWAY TOGETHER WOULD YOU LIKE TO ADOPT A LITTLE GAY DOG WITH ME

"--am so glad you're my boyfriend." Whew, crisis averted. "C'mon, let's like, go play flip cup or something."

#tap #para #big emos about tap #just that kind of couple where u should not be together for fifteen hundred practical very important reasons and yet #yet u r with them anyway #tad hurts me a lot !

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colonel-insomniac · 4 years

Text

Heather— Conan Gray

And we are back! sorry for the long wait, i graduated, I’m getting ready to start uni, ive been a little busy. Anyways, read other Spongebob One-shots HERE and if its a while before i release another one, pls read my book The Other Planet HERE because I aim to publish it after rewriting. "I still remember, third of December, me in your sweater, you said it looked better on me than it did you…"

Bobby was slumped in a chair, chin resting on an arm that was propped up by a cafeteria table. Prom was a bust, that's really all he had discovered tonight.

Everyone always says prom is a magical night, and bonds are formed that will never break, and maybe Bobby is being a little over dramatic about this, but this dance turned out to be a total waste of seventy-five bucks.

Truthfully, he'd wanted to be asked to prom, and by Patrick. But when it became clear that wasn't happening, his mom had insisted he still go, despite his lamenting about not wanting to. She'd promised him that he would later wish he had gone. Bobby supposed it would be better than being sprawled on the couch, watching movies.

Now, however, all he wished to do was watch movies. Since he'd walked through the doors of the high school gym, Bobby had a flighty feeling gnawing at his insides. And he knew it was heartwarming when Pat walked through the doors with his mom, but he couldn't help wishing he was walking through that entrance with Patrick.

Bobby had ducked into the bathroom—accidentally into the girls first, where they asked why he looked upset after their initial shock—the boy's bathroom, where he locked himself in a stall, and sat for a couple minutes.

His heart was beating fast, so he pulled out his phone and played some Subway Surfer's in an attempt to calm down. It was just Pat after all, his best friend for life. There was no reason to be nervous.

And that's when he wound up at this table. He'd weaved his way through the throng of dancing kids, chatting with a couple of them before moving on. Bobby had managed to catch a couple of glances at Patrick, who was seated at a table with his mom. But they weren’t talking, he was looking around with a frown.

“Only if you knew, how much I liked you, but I watch your eyes as she walks by…”

Bobby had a sneaking suspicion that Patrick liked Sandy, a really smart Texan. He had no proof of this, of course, besides how much they seemed to hang out these days. Bobby felt bad about that thought. She’s not a bad person, Sandy, that is. She’s really smart, and shes’ pretty, and nice, and all good things. But Bobby had been missing his best friend recently. He’d tried talking to Edward—or Eddie, as Bobby called him, despite Edward’s scowls—but it was evident that the tall, clarinet playing, art adept boy was consumed with work, and consequently had no time to talk.

Bobby had sat down in the chair he’s now in, spinning stories out of the pattern on the table to keep himself occupied. Even he was aware how pitiful that sounded. Sandy and Edward had come up to him, separately of course, and chatted for a bit each. He’d grinned when Eddie voluntarily sat next to him, but Eddie had made sure Bobby knew he was only talking to him tonight because of how Bobby had been one of the few to treat him kindly. At that, Bobby’s mouth fell open in shock. Eddie was such a fun person to be around in his opinion. He’s going to have to talk with people and tell them how awesome Eddie is.

Bobby half listens to what Eddie is telling him, nodding his head in agreement as he thinks of how he can help the talented man. Soon enough, Edward decides he’s talked enough, and excuses himself. That’s when Sandy practically leapt out of the almost non-existent shadows, nearly giving Bobby a heart attack. He jumps a little, and Sandy smiles, apologizing for startling him. “You? Scare me? No, no, I was just getting up!” Bobby tries, knowing that Sandy knows it’s a lie.

“What a sight for sore eyes, brighter than the blue sky, she’s got you mesmerized, while I die…”

“Mhm, sure.” Sandy gives him a knowing look. “Why are ya camped out here anyhow?” Bobby shrugs, not wanting to explain. “Patrick has been lookin’ for ya, he seems worried ‘bout somethin’.” Bobby looks away, feeling guilty.

The ever-perceptive girl takes note of the expression on Bobby’s face, and in one motion, pulls out a chair and sits down. Bobby keeps his head tilted towards the table, hoping she won’t want him to talk about it. “Now, what’s wrong Bobby? You’ve been actin’ stranger than a cow dancin’ at a disco rodeo.” Bobby’s eyebrows scrunch together, a little confused by the saying, but then he shakes his head and thinks up a response.

He shrugs, “Nothing, I just don’t wanna be here anymore.” Sandy’s own eyebrows shoot up, and she asks what he means by that.

“Why would you ever kiss me, I’m not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater it's just polyester, but you like her better, wish I were Heather…”

Bobby lifts his shoulder again, not sure of what to say or how to say it. He blows air out, watching a strand of his hair float up and fall down again while he thinks. Sandy see the discomfort on his face, and drags him outside, into the quiet. The air out here fills Bobby’s lungs, pleasantly warm. It smells like spring, hope, rebirth, renewal. “Now talk.” She orders, and he has no choice but to admire her persistence.

“I kinda like Pat.” It’s a low whisper, and Sandy’s face brightens. Bobby frowns. “What’re you smiling about?”

Sandy quickly irons out her face, assuring him that there’s nothing going on, gesturing for him to continue. “But I think he likes you, not me.” Bobby stares hard at a tree, watching as the moonlight pokes through the holes in the leaves.

Sandy makes a sound in the back of her throat, and Bobby can’t quite place an emotion to the sound. “He’s a great guy, I would know, I did spend the past 17 years of my life with him.” Bobby continues, turning to Sandy and plastering a bright, fake smile on his face as he grabs her hands. “Pat’s a lot of fun to be around, he’s also really soft.” Bobby stares up and away from Sandy, trying to keep his emotions under control.

“Bobby, you’ve got it all wrong—” Sandy starts, and Bobby numbly thinks how she does look pretty ethereal right now, and kinda all the time. How could someone not like her?

“Watch as she stands with her holding your hand, put your arm 'round her shoulder, now I'm getting colder…”

“Trust me, Sandy, it’s okay. If you like him too, you should tell him. You guys will…have a lot of fun together.” He’s trying to work himself up to be happy. He should be happy for the two anyways.

He hardly hears himself as he continues on, rambling, Sandy watching him with eyes that keep getting wider. It’s when he’s starting to turn to go back inside, and turning her too, that Sandy seems to snap out of her shock, and grabs Bobby’s shoulders. “Listen Bobby,” Bobby opens his mouth to ask something, confused, but Sandy shakes her head, so he nods. “You gotta trust me on this one. Pat doesn’t like me. I know who he likes, and this person is at this party. Patrick’s plannin’ on tellin’ them tonight, so you oughta at least go and see him.” Bobby shakes his head, once, before Sandy frowns at him. “He’s itchin’ to talk to you, been missin’ you all night, and y’all are both actin’ pretty dang stupid.” Bobby’s too confused, puzzling over that last part, and before he can protest it, Sandy’s grabbed his hand, and drags him inside.

“But how could I hate her? She's such an angel, but then again, kinda wish she were dead, as she walks by, what a sight for sore eyes, brighter than a blue sky, she's got you mesmerized, while I die…”

“Sandy…” That’s all Bobby can get out. The cold of the air condition raises goosebumps on his arms, and okay, maybe that isn’t the only reason. Because now, he’s going to be face to face with Patrick, and only Sandy knows why she’s doing this.

He didn’t think he was wrong though, about Patrick liking Sandy. But now that she’s said that it isn’t her, Bobby feels almost like he’s been thrown into an existential crisis. His stomach clenches, and he desperately tries to stall by any means necessary, but Sandy doesn’t buy any of the excuses he’s giving her. She just tells Bobby to trust him and keeps moving.

Bobby sees Pat sitting with his mom. His back is towards Sandy and Bobby, but he nods his head at whatever his mom says. Sandy deposits Bobby in a corner, and tells him to “wait there and don’t move,” before making her way over to the pair.

He debates slipping away, now that Sandy’s back is turned, but he’s frozen instead, helplessly watching the scene unfold in front of him. From what he can see, Sandy puts a hand on Pat’s shoulder, greeting his mom, who smiles at her. Patrick’s looking up at her, and she briefly addresses him before pulling him up. Bobby’s heart is beating wildly in his body, and he swallows as Sandy brushes off the shoulders of Pat’s suit before leading him toward Bobby.

“Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty, you gave her your sweater, it's just polyester, but you like her better, I wish I were Heather…”

Patrick catches sight of Bobby before the pair is in front of him, and Bobby finds himself mesmerized by Patrick. When they stop, Sandy waits for a beat or two, and exits, aiming a pointed glance at Bobby, the meaning of which he is able to immediately decipher. She’s telling him to confess. That thought sends him into a state of panic, and he blushes, not sure what to do or say.

“Hey.” Is the first thing to come out of his mouth, and he considers literally face-palming. Instead, however, Bobby watches Patrick’s face scrunch up.

“Why have you been ignoring me?” Bobby flinches at the emotion underneath the question. He never meant to hurt Patrick, never thought he was.

But now he knows better. “I thought you liked Sandy, I was trying to stay out of the way so you could tell her.” Pat looks taken aback by Bobby’s confession.

“I don’t….” Pat starts to say something, but trails off, looking slightly confused.

Bobby breathes in, stomach knotting and unknotting over and over as he debates saying it. He closes his eyes. “I like you.” Those three words stop everything. Bobby’s mind goes still, and he knows it’s impossible, but he swears it feels as though his heart has stopped.

His hands drop to his sides—funny, he didin’t remember lifting them to begin with— and looks to the side, away from Patrick. He struggles—and fails—to keep a couple of tears from escaping, and he brushes them off, sniffing. “It’s okay, though. You should talk to the person you like.” He starts to back away, back hitting the wall behind him.

“Wish I were Heather, wish I were Heather…”

“Bobby, you should’ve told me—” Pat starts, grabbing the shorter of the two and wraps his arms around Bobby. “I was trying to figure out how to tell you that I liked you.”

Bobby’s confused. Patrick likes him? “Wait what?” Bobby smartly asks. Patrick breathes in, and exhales before responding. Bobby supposes he’s thinking about what to say.

“I like you too. I’ve been hanging out with Sandy to get advice on how to tell you. I–we—eventually decided I should do it tonight, at prom.” Bobby doesn’t realize how tightly he’s holding onto Patrick, he’s too focused on listening to what’s being said.

He breathes in, and is surrounded by the scent of Patrick, Hot Topic’s Sugar Cookie scent. Bobby knows Pat would never admit to shopping there, so around the holidays, when they release the scent, Bobby buys a ton for Pat just in case he should run out. “I would never just stop hanging out with you.”

“Why would you ever kiss me? I'm not even half as pretty…”

“Sorry,” Bobby mutters, knowing Pat will hear it. “I should’ve asked if everything was alright instead of assuming and hiding. Especially since we've been best friends since birth."

Patrick shakes his head, and after a minute, both feel as though the hug has branched into the awkward category.

Bobby decides it's probably rude to not say hi to Patrick's mom, and when he brings that up to Pat, his best friend (who likes him back?) offers an arm with a goofy grin. Bobby takes this in stride, placing his hand on the inside of Patrick's elbow, trying to match with an equally enthusiastic grin. The pair set off towards the table Mrs. Starr is sitting at, finding Sandy chatting with her.

"Hey Mrs. Starr! Hey-a Sandy." Bobby leans down to hug Patrick's mother.

"Bobby and I were gonna dance." He tugs Bobby over to the floor, and Bobby waves at the two, sending a smile their way.

"Pat, I can't dance." Bobby mutters, but he wraps his arms around Patrick's neck anyways. In return, the taller of the two places his hands at Bobby's waist, tentatively, as though not sure whether Bobby was fine with it.

The contact sent a shiver down Bobby's back, stepping closer to Patrick. "Sure you can, anyone can dance, really." Patrick snorts softly, and Bobby elects to leave the matter, leaning his head on Pat's shoulder.

"You gave her your sweater, it's just polyester..."

"So," Pat begins saying something, and Bobby peacefully listens. "Would you like to go with me tomorrow and get ice cream in the park?” Bobby leans away, playfully grinning at Pat.

“Is that a date?” Bobby laughs a little, knowing the answer already. Pat punches Bobby lightly on the shoulder.

“You know it is.” Bobby can’t resist leaning up on his toes and placing a chaste kiss on Patrick’s cheek. When he pulls back, he’s delighted to see the faint pink blush on his companion’s cheek.

And if anyone were to ask him, he definitely did not squeal when Patrick picked him up and spun him around.

“But you like her better, wish I were…”

#patbob #spongerick #spongebob #patrick #sandy #mr krabs #squidward #spongebob the musical

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atruththatyoudeny · 4 years

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Monthly reads | March 2020

Happy 28th! Thank you to everyone who shares their stories with us, especially in times like these. ♥ Stay safe, everyone!

♦ To Him Who in the Love of Nature | wayfared | traveling - implied depression - minor character death - coma - 71k “Enjoy your stay in Svalbard?” the cab driver asked over his shoulder. “Amazing,” Harry answered for Louis, flashing his signature smile. “Good,” the man nodded in approval. “Everyone is lucky in Svalbard. You're lucky, too.” Or, after Louis' delicate world comes crashing down upon him, he takes off for the loneliest place he can think of. But, in the midst of the whirling snow, there's always a warm fireplace to come home to.

♦ The Space Between | emma1234 | a/b/o - famous/not famous - insomnia - implied/referenced drug use - sexism - smut - 40k Harry Styles is the alpha rockstar who can’t sleep and doesn’t know why. Louis Tomlinson is the omega PhD student who helps him figure it out.

♦ Strip That Down | Anonymous | waxing - college/university - friends to lovers - smut - pain kink - 7k “You’re doing well,” came Louis’ voice, and Harry’s eyes flew open, craning his head to see Louis sat on the sofa across the room, legs crossed, hands resting in his lap as he sat there, an amused smile on his lips. “A bit of a wimp, but I guess it must hurt-” “You guess? My legs are on fucking fire, Louis,” Harry retorted, his voice a little shaky still. The alcohol he’d been consuming all night was doing nothing to numb the pain, and the thought Louis thought he was a wimp wasn’t helping. “You have literally no idea how much this hurts.” “No pain kink, then. I’ll bear that in mind,” Louis said smugly as Jesy walked back into the room, a fresh pot of wax in her hands. “Oh goody, here we go again.” “Please don’t do my thighs, please-” “Them’s the rules…” Jesy muttered as she started swiping wax over Harry’s left thigh. ***** Offering to wax his legs as part of a bet wasn’t one of Harry's finer ideas, but if it has Louis ogling his thighs, who is he to complain?

♦ I Like It Better When It Hurts | dimpled_halo | BDSM - dom/sub - kink negotiation - spanking - subspace - aftercare - 6k Dear Mr. Louis, Hello. I’m Harry. I got your contact from a good friend of mine and was wondering if I can get your services. My 30th birthday is coming up and all I’ve ever wanted is to get spanked, maybe more? If you’re interested, please contact me. I’d love to hear from you. Sincerely, Harry Marcel reads over the words. He guesses there isn’t a much better way to ask for what he needs. He almost changes the name again but decides Harry is fine. It’s generic and nothing that can be traced to him. At least he doesn’t think so. Okay, he’s overthinking again so he clicks the send button before he can talk himself out of it. His heart races as soon as he does. He almost wants to take it back, figure out a way to undo it, but he takes a big gulp of his wine to calm down. It’s fine. This is fine. He can do this.

♦ Hold the Night for Ransom | thinlines | a/b/o - pwp - established relationship - angst - hurt/comfort - nesting - 4k “Hate that you make me weak.” Louis whispers it like a secret as he watches Harry tracing his lips. Harry could smell it now. Smell Louis’ delicious slick. He sneaks a hand inside the blankets, searching until they reach Louis’ joggers. Wetness meets his fingertips and he growls, shutting his eyes and seeing the red blossom behind his lids. The bursts of desire. “Is that for me?” He asks, opening his eyes and stare into Louis’. In which Louis tries to prove he doesn't need his alpha and Harry knows it's a losing battle before it begins.

♦ Learning to Breathe | youcomecrash | college/university - hate to love - sexuality crisis - reconciliation - fluff - angst - secret relationship - unresolved sexual tension - unresolved romantic tension - coming out - 110k He’s playing football at one of the top universities in England and he should love everything about his life right now, but instead he’s moving backwards. How does your past fit into your present? Louis is still figuring it out.

♦ Paws, Whiskers, and Unexpected Surprises | Emd1991 | hybrids - fluff - angst - 14k Harry meets Louis after he gets a new job at a local shelter for Hybrids. Louis' stubbornness and mischief stirs up some trouble at the shelter and Harry finds his job tasks difficult to complete. Problems and feelings arise though when the shelter is forced to transfer some of their hybrids to new locations.

♦ We Can Work It Out | kassio | college/university - gyms - body image - implied/referenced homophobia - biphobia - friends to lovers - 24k Louis Tomlinson had big plans for his last year of uni. He was going to hit the gym, he was going to get hot, and he was finally going to catch the eye of the girl of his dreams. Enter Harry Styles, friend-of-a-friend and part-time personal trainer. Falling for him was never part of Louis’ plan.

♦ Underneath the Moon | orphan | mpreg - angst - fluff - famous/not famous - mutual pining - friends to lovers - misunderstandings - anxiety attacks - 47k In five years’ time, Louis would be the one saying to his students about how he knew the great Harry Styles, in a time before he had ever put out an album or performed on a real stage. Harry fucking Styles had been his best friend and he still loved him, he always would. But they couldn’t stay that way. (Or, Louis and Harry are best friends until Louis goes to London while Harry tours Europe. It was going as planned until they unintentionally messed everything up, but it might be for the best.)

♦ an entire desert in our hourglass | tofiveohfive | pre-apocalypse - angst - hurt/comfort - post-break up - getting back together - happy ending - 19k The first time around, Harry doesn’t recognize it as the reason behind the sudden tightness in his throat. He sees the hourglass sitting empty on Louis’ rack and mistakes it for just another souvenir from a life he used to know. The second time around, he feels insulted by the glaring stoicism of the sand on the bottom. His hand itches to make it move. He thinks he’d find some comfort in knowing that at least the grains of salt are getting somewhere. The third and final time he sees the hourglass, it almost doesn’t catch his eye. The warmth in his bones keeps him from gravitating towards acidic reminders. However, the soft light coming from the window paints a new shade over the lifeless sand. Whereas before Harry couldn’t see past the bitter finality represented by the stillness, now he sees it as a chance waiting to be taken. A new beginning waiting to start. He flips the hourglass. · The world is ending. Harry comes over.

♦ Your secret's safe with me | lightswoodmagic (sarah_writes) | royalty - friends to lovers - pining - 7k He knew almost everything about Haz, considered him his best friend. He knew his favourite movies and books, how he liked his coffee, knew how many pets he had and what he was most afraid of. Louis knew how to calm him down when he was panicking, and that he’d lost his virginity to his ex-boyfriend when he was 17. He knew that Haz had curly hair, green eyes, that he was tall and considered himself slightly awkward. He knew his Instagram account that only had aesthetic pictures or ridiculous jokes, but in the all the time that Louis had known him, he’d never learnt, or been allowed to know, Haz’s full name, what he sounded like, or what he looked like. Louis didn't care. Or, when Louis' favourite singer comes back and announces he's performing again, him and the rest of his group chat decide to go. When Haz, the man Louis' fallen in love with without meeting him, says that he can't, Louis tries his best to convince him with a drunken phone call, hearing his voice for the first time. It's not until he's at Royal Variety that he swears he can hear it again.

#28th appreciation #fic rec #my fic rec #monthly reads #larry fics #completed fics #my reads

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sorenen · 5 years

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Since I have to go back to uni soon (f) Here are some college related headcanons featuring Aaravos as a professor (‘cause god knows I’d have perfect attendance if my professors had even 1% of his beauty and charisma)

- for obvious reasons he teaches astronomy but he’s pretty much good at everything

- his classes always have perfect attendance even without an attendance requirement

- he wears glasses and usually alternates between different coloured sweaters, and he pretty much always looks 11/10

- he’s the kind of lecturer that makes eye contact with students when he asks a question, and whoever looks away first gets picked to answer

- he paces around the room as he lectures and literally everyone keeps track of where he’s going instead of looking at the board, even if they have to do a 180 degree turn to see him

- if he catches a student on their phone he smiles and stares at them until they notice and put their phone away, and as much as everyone wants their hot professor to look their way, no one wants to get on his bad side, so hardly anyone ever does it

- his exams are either unreasonably easy or devastatingly complicated, there’s no in between

- his lecture recordings are the most downloaded and can even be found on YouTube tagged as ASMR

- no one knows how long he has been a professor and no one knows how old he is. He’s up to date with all the meme trends so his students speculate that he can’t be that much older than them, but then he’ll mention some obscure event that happened 100 years ago with such detail and clarity that no one can be sure he isn’t a vampire

- he’s charming enough that he makes everyone feel as if they’re close friends with him, and it’s not until the end of the semester that his students and colleagues realise they actually don’t know a single thing about his personal life

- Professor Viren is locked in a one sided battle with Aaravos because Aaravos always gets the best rooms and times for his classes and Viren gets stuck in a shabby lecture theatre on the other end of the campus teaching a 7pm class. Viren insists there’s some foul play going on but no one believes him. Students bet on how many tantrums he’ll throw in a single semester. The record so far is 109.

- all the other professors are lowkey terrified of Aaravos. There are rumours that Professor Runaan is so scared of him that he transferred from the science department to the art department to avoid being in the same building as him. But students are divided between believing that and a new rumour that suggests Runaan transferred because he fell in love with one of the art professors. A common ice breaker question students ask each other is which rumour they believe. If someone answers both they’re shunned for being weak minded.

- there’s a huge mirror in Aaravos’ office but whenever students come by for consultation hours it’s always covered. One day a student insists he saw it uncovered and claimed that he’d go back to investigate it some more. He didn’t show up to classes after that day, and now the entire cohort is convinced the mirror is a portal to another dimension

- one day Aaravos ties his hair up in class. Around 20 students file reports that they’ve been personally victimised and another 5 start attending therapy. Aaravos is banned from ever tying his hair up again

- his students insist that if they make Aaravos laugh at least once per semester they’ll pass his class, so in the days leading up to the exam it’s not uncommon for them to spew lame jokes in the hope he’ll laugh. He never does but if he’s feeling kind enough he takes pity on them

- Soren took Aaravos’ class for two (2) whole semesters and got horrendous marks both times. He actually didn’t do so bad on the exam, but Aaravos took marks off his final score just to spite Viren

- one time a student needed help in an exam and called Aaravos over to ask a question. The next day the student filed for special consideration claiming they couldn’t concentrate on the exam because Aaravos needed to whisper to them so as not to disturb everyone else, and the poor student just couldn’t handle that

- just like how people can’t comprehend the notion of infinity, Aaravos’ students can’t imagine what he’s like outside of being a professor. A student claims they once saw him in the cereal aisle at a grocery store and then promptly had an existential crisis

- one day there’s a bug in the classroom, and instead of taking it outside or throwing it out the window, Aaravos calmly picks it up and puts it in his pocket and just carries on with his lecture

#tdp #the dragon prince #aaravos #no one ask what compelled me to make these #this is just my way of coping #if ur a fellow uni student im sure u understand

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vapidsoup · 5 years

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anxiety coping mechanisms!

hey guys lately i’ve been relapsing on my panic disorder bc i moved to a new city for uni. nowadays, i feel like i’ve improved a lot since the first day of the move, and i’d like to make a wholesome and hopefully helpful post about things that have helped me calm down during these tough times. if you suffer from anxiety, depression or panic disorders, maybe test these out and see if it helps! we should all stick together and try to help each other during our difficult moments in life, after all! Oh, and please please please feel free to add your own coping mechanisms!! i’d love to hear some more helpful advice! So, without further ado:

when i am anxious I:

Distract myself with skill-focused hobbies. When I was younger and had panic attacks, simply reading my favorite book would help calm me down. Nowadays, I can’t seem to focus on reading when I’m anxious so it’s no longer helpful. Instead, my brain needs an activity which forces it to reallocate its thought process completely, so doing something that requires focus, quick thinking or your total attention is preferable. For me, I find this in drawing, difficult video games, puzzles, or podcasts, but it could be anything that forces you to shift mental gears.

Spend time with loved ones. This one is not always helpful depending on how bad the anxiety is, but I found effective when I can feel it creeping up. Talking to your mother or father, siblings, or of course friends can also help distract from negative feelings. Don’t just talk! Do an activity together, like playing a board game, signing karaoke, even going out together if you feel bold enough. If you surround yourself with supportive and entertaining people, sometimes you may not even notice your anxiety melt away.

Consume positive media. Say you’re too antsy to leave the house or even talk to anyone. That’s totally okay. Sometimes, all you need to start feeling better is your laptop! Watching a funny show has really helped calm me down because it’s a positive experience. I find that stories and music with dark, depressing and negative tones only serve to feed my anxiety. AVOID NEGATIVE VIBES! Stand-up comedy, happy/energetic songs, or even vine compilations can help turn your mood around. During my first week alone, I rewatched 6 seasons of the office. It helped a lot, believe it or not! If you have a friend to watch it with, even better.

Mind my breathing. This is the oldest trick in the book and yet I forget to control my breathing every time. If you find yourself on the verge of or during a panic attack, take deep, regulated breaths. Don’t think about anything else. Just in. And out. In. And out. Concentrate on breathing deeply and regularly for as long as you have to.

Take a shower or bath. A surprisingly helpful trick, in my experience. Warm, soothing water can help calm you down. Washing yourself is also a good physical distraction, especially when movements are repeated, like scrubbing your hair. Lose yourself to the task!

If possible, stay in a comforting environment. This could be just me, but my thoughts are at their worst when it’s nighttime. That’s why I like to stay in a brightly illuminated space when I’m feeling bad. It’s not much, but it does help. I find great comfort in my room, so staying in my comfy bed with stuffed animals has helped calm me down.

Make stuff up! This doesn’t apply to everyone, but I have found that creation has been an excellent means of coping with anxiety. If you are the creative type (regardless of any assumed skill), I strongly encourage you to think of projects you would like to do, and develop them. Are you into writing? Try thinking of a story you would like to tell! A poem you could write! Musician? Try writing some lyrics or even compose your own piece! Artist? Daydream about your dream projects. I would personally recommend working on a story. This entails world-building, characters, plot, settings, specific scenes. most of the ideas I’ve had for stories, tv shows, video games and comic books were born and developed been during times of mental crisis. Whether it’s a script, painting, youtube video, or melody, try to unleash the creator within. It is an astoundingly effective distraction.

And most importantly,

Remember that this, too, shall pass. This simple thought has been the most important aid when dealing with my panic disorder. When I was 10, I went through a terrible time, mentally, and had panic attacks nearly every day. My mother would always tell me the story of a wise king, adored by all and renowned for his seemingly perfect mind. When asked by his subjects the secret to his leadership skills, he pointed at the ring he wore on his finger. Engraved in it were the words “this, too, shall pass.” Whenever he felt powerful and invincible, the ring reminded him to think of the future and prepare for adversities. And when he felt powerless, hopeless, alone, utterly despaired, the ring was a reminder that everything is temporary. One day, things will get better, it could even be tomorrow. So he should never give up the fight because nothing is forever. That story really resonated with me. At my worst, I have to tell myself “This will pass. These emotions are strong and seem like the end of me, but soon I’ll feel better and know that this is nothing.” And sure enough, when the panic passes (because it ALWAYS passes), I think “now I can see how much better I feel. The next time I feel anxious, I must remember how I feel right now, and know that I will feel this way again.” So, when you think the situation is hopeless, know that this, too, shall pass.

These are only some of the tricks I’ve used throughout my whole life to get through panic attacks. Notice how most of these tips are about distracting yourself from the anxiety. During panic attacks or anxious bouts, obsessing over whatever problems you may have, even if they seem urgent or inescapable, rarely helps. The goal of these exercises are to help put you in a different, more reasonable state of mind, which you can later use to tackle adversities in a realistic and healthy way. So really, it’s all about letting yourself breathe, cool down and reset.

So, I hope that this silly post has helped! I wish you all the best!

#long post #mental health #anxiety #panic #panic attack #panic disorder #depression #mental illness #coping #coping mechanism #vapidsoup

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homenum-revelio-hq · 4 years

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Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix, Jess!

You have been accepted for the role of LILY EVANS! We really enjoyed reading your application. We especially loved the moments in your app where you showed that Lily is not perfect. You really gave us a clear view on both her strengths and her flaws. Her failed career as a healer was just an example of that! We are so excited to have you as part of this roleplay!

Please take a look at the new member checklist and send in your account within 24 hours! Thank you for joining the fight against Voldemort!

OUT OF CHARACTER:

NAME: Jess

AGE: 23

TIMEZONE: GMT+10

ACTIVITY LEVEL: I tend to be fairly active, my goal is usually not to let 3 days pass without doing my replies and I generally meet this (unless I have left a uni assignment to the last minute!)

ANYTHING ELSE: N/A for triggers

CHARACTER DETAILS:

NAME: Lily Geraldine Evans

AGE: 21

GENDER, PRONOUNS, and SEXUALITY: Cisfemale, she/her. Pansexual/Conceives of herself as heterosexual

BLOOD STATUS: Muggle-born

HOUSE ALUMNI: Gryffindor

ANY CHANGES: No thanks!

CHARACTER BACKGROUND:

PERSONALITY:

Lily Evans was made Head Girl in her final year at Hogwarts for more reasons than simply being a figurehead for Albus Dumbledore’s pro Muggle-born ideologies – although certainly, that helped. Known by many of her teachers and peers for being quick-witted and intelligent, the fact that she came to magic later than most of her peers did not hold her back for long. Lily’s intelligence soon helped her excel at magic, seemingly gifted at charming and conjuring all manner of magical items. She has a particular strength for defensive magic and healing, while her fondness for Potions rests in her stubborn and comforting belief that it is the most similar to the Muggle ways she employed in her youth, that the simple Muggle methods of hands and brain are just as powerful. Offensive magic is more of a struggle for Lily, she is by no means a natural fighter, although it is something she determinedly works on.

Also known for her kindness, Lily has an open heart and is truly an extrovert. She delights in the company of people and is always teasing someone or other, a fond smile and a ringing laugh never far from her countenance. In fact, lightly teasing others is her foremost means of showing affection, though this is something that never (or at least, rarely) strays into cruelty.

Kindness, however, is by no means softness. It is true that Lily believes in forgiveness, but she also has high standards and expects them to be met. Her love is not unconditional, and nor is her forgiveness. Her principles and ideals are close to her heart and for others to stray for them or betray them is to be met with Lily’s anger. She is forgiving, but not endlessly so, and does not forgive unless the merit is there, unless she decides the person deserves it. She is also used to being in the position of judgement, not to being the judged, which tends to bring out her self-righteous side, being so clear on what she believes to be right and wrong. When Lily is in the wrong, she struggles to admit it, having a strong sense of pride. She can become prickly and defensive, not so much playing the role of peacemaker as she is inclined to retreat, wounded. It’s a part of herself she’d often only seen in conflict with Petunia - maybe even a part of herself that mirrored Petunia. Resentment. And a sense of selfish pride, wounded self-righteousness so deep, it was easier to push the loved one away than apologise, than try to repair damage done. It’s not a quality Lily likes about herself, but it’s also one intrinsic, perhaps learnt by both at their parents’ knee.

Rightfully a Gryffindor, Lily is fierce and true. Her ideals always lead her to action, she is not one to sit back, even if she is not necessarily suited for a fight by nature. That does not stop her. Bravery runs quick and deep within her, and in fact, the more opposition she receives, the more she is inclined to push back. Her bravery then, extends to a defiant streak – even to provocation. Lily tends to take pleasure in talking back to those she scorns, in daring them to insult her, in attempting to prove herself above their scorn. There is indeed something desperate inside of her, a thirst to prove herself better than all that has been said about her kind.

Behind this solid sense of pride, however, lies a more sensitive side. Disapproval, disappointment - Lily hates letting people down, associating conflict with rejection. For that she can probably thank Petunia. When she found magic, she lost a best friend, her sister. When she found magic did not want her, she lost a best friend yet again, Severus. It is one thing to deal with the rejection of a whole world (or at least, so the Death Eaters and their allies often seem, a crushing weight) – that, Lily can shrug off, shoulders high, defiant until the end. But the two people she thought cared for her most, loved her most … that can only hurt, even still, years later. Lily remains insecure that she is not truly loved, that ultimately, she will lose people, no matter how much they seem to care for her now.

BRIEF OVERVIEW OF FAMILY:

Lily grew up in the industrial town of Cokeworth, in the Midlands of England. The daughter of Adrian and Geraldine Evans, she has an older sister, Petunia Evans (now Dursley). For many years, her family was a close one, her parents strived hard to make it that way. The Evans parents used flower names for both of their two daughters. This was not particularly due to a family tradition or any reason other than that Geraldine Evans liked the idea of connecting her two children to each other. She was always glad they were born so close in age because she never had any siblings and wished for a sister for a best friend. The girls’ closeness growing up delighted her, at least until it ended with a letter in green ink, carried by a bird.

Four lends itself neatly to division, and it was true enough for the Evans family, Lily her father’s daughter and Petunia all their mother’s. This is true in appearance as much as personality: Lily’s looks are from the Evans side of the family, she shares her red hair with her father and both are more heavily built, while Petunia looks more like their mother - pale hair and bony features.

But at first, there was no problem, not for any of them. Lily was the fearless one, climbing trees and playing in the mud – but Petunia did it all with her, too. That was the thing – the part Lily cannot forget. Petunia always followed her, despite not caring for dirt and mud mess, and Lily worshipped her for it.

Meanwhile, Geraldine was cloying, clingy, she tried to hold on hard to her girls, even Lily, who would disappear to a world she could not know. Adrian was quieter, stiller – Lily could always come to him. It’s easier now, when she has so much to hide from her family, barely seeing them, desperate to keep them from danger or any association with her. She avoids going home, missing her family, but struggling under the weight of the lies, as she tries to keep any knowledge of the war from them. Adrian asks much less of Lily. The downside to that, of course, is that he lets her slip away. Though generally seen as having taken after her father, Lily has something of her mother’s nature, too, something shared with Petunia. She can never let things go, her heart is one that holds on. To the good and the bad.

OCCUPATION:

Lily always wanted to become a Potioneer, brewing potions was her favourite subject and the part of magic she liked most, even if she was never as talented as Severus. She liked the fact that potions took brains more than it took magic, that it used hands, not a wand. But, with a war going on around her, it seemed decidedly less than useful. She became a Healer Trainee instead, thinking she would be in the best position to help others and to learn important spells she might use to save those in the Order at a time of crisis. The problem was that Lily was never truly dedicated to this role. Yes, many victims of the Death Eaters came into the hospital, but it was rarely the case that Trainee Healers were entrusted with cases of Dark magic. Lily was mostly fixing the accidental magic mishaps underage wixen got themselves into - dull and draining work. Even more than that, her higher loyalty was always to the Order, the war remaining her priority. Lily had less and less time to study the healing magic she needed for her job, focusing far more of her energy on missions for the Order, to the extent she even missed shifts at times. It only got worse as she began working with the Task Force - finding something she was truly passionate about meant she kept even less time for her Healing studies. She wasn’t exactly fired, but it became clear that she was not performing to the required level and had to leave the program. Even though she was hardly happy at the hospital, this fact burns. Lily Evans, who was supposed to have such a bright future. The failure is a blemish on her record, yet another thing that has gone wrong in her life since leaving Hogwarts, yet another way she seems to be incapable of living up to the image everyone has of her.

As it is, she works solely for the Order now and lives off James’ money. This fact too is something that weighs Lily down, that she can never stop thinking about. She never wanted to be dependent on him, on anyone. Sure, she didn’t make much as a Trainee Healer, couldn’t contribute her fair share to their home, but at least she had something of her own. It’s something at the back of her mind whenever she is with James.

ROLE WITHIN THE ORDER/THOUGHTS ABOUT THE ORDER:

Lily has a desire to impress, she always had. Somehow surrounding herself with rebels, all of them heedless and reckless in her eyes, though very much loved for it - she herself respected authority. That is, if the authority deserved to be respected. Sometimes it crosses her mind, the fact that she, of all people, is technically a vigilante, and she can only laugh. A bitter, somewhat frightened laugh, but with hints of amusement all the same. There are still people she can look to for the approval she craves in the Order – she respects Moody, Shacklebolt, Dumbledore. And she believes in them, in the path they’re setting out for all of them, but … it gets harder and harder every day.

Perhaps that’s why the Task Force means so much to her. It’s palpable success, it’s a way to actually help people, to see the results before them. Especially the Muggle-borns – the people who, like herself, are caught up in something that threatens to overwhelm them, who deserve to have someone stand up for them and affirm their (her) right to be in this world. Fighting (and often losing) endless battles with the Death Eaters, missions that seem to go nowhere, do nothing, even if there is supposedly some greater scheme – Lily feels herself breaking the longer it goes on, the less light there seems to be at the end of this long drawn out struggle. She knew it wasn’t going to be over in a year – but knowing that, and living it, are two very different things.

This wasn’t supposed to be her life. Failed job. Failed war. And now more than ever, failed relationships. This was never supposed to be Lily, who everyone thinks of as a bright spark, as hope and kindness personified. It’s hard to let go of, that image, the perfect Lily Evans, something she clung to when she was reminded of her sister’s hate, of half the wizarding world’s hate. But she isn’t a bright spark, or at least, she doesn’t feel that way. Not anymore.

SURVIVAL:

To be honest, Lily often feels her survival is a matter of her inconsequentiality. At Hogwarts, things seemed different. She was a bold symbol, the Muggle-born Head Girl, bright and clever and beloved. Practically a spit in the face to anyone who thought Muggle-borns were inferior – and there were plenty of students who showed her their displeasure. Lily faced them all proudly, though James’ support was something she depended upon, taking strength from the knowledge that he had her back, no matter who else despised her. She felt like she was making a difference. Now, even as an Order member – what’s she really doing for the war? That importance she used to have, it’s faded away now. She’s not especially successful, she’s not especially threatening or powerful … that doesn’t mean Lily isn’t careful, of course. Her home with James is well-protected and Lily takes Alastor Moody’s warnings very seriously. Constant vigilance indeed. But at the end of the day, there are times Lily thinks … she simply doesn’t matter. Not outside of being James Potter’s mudblood girlfriend, at any rate.

RELATIONSHIPS:

Lily loves James, but she knows things are strained between them. Lily’s relationships are deeply characterised by respect – she is someone who cannot be happy with someone, even if she loves them, unless she can respect them. That hasn’t changed with James, she still admires him almost more than anyone else, for his strength and dedication, his idealistic nature. Most days, Lily thinks it’s her who is the problem. Nothing she does lately seems to be working out and this is no different. She knows he’s starting to catch on to her unhappiness and she wants to reach out, to tell him she hasn’t stopped caring for him, but something stops her. Maybe it’s just that sense of hopelessness, of burning out, the fear that she isn’t the person she once was anymore. How could he understand that – he’s never been anything but himself, never had to be afraid to be himself, never failed, and right now, he’s in the thick of it, the inner circle – of course he is. Everything has always come easy to James, born to success and brilliant in his own right. It seems as if their paths after school are inverse, he with all the accomplishments (so high up in the Order, so trusted) and she with none. Even if he did fail, he wouldn’t be like her. The Muggle-born out of place, the Muggle-born who has failed to make her place in the Wizarding world (all those snide voices at the back of her mind – of course she was going to fail. Don’t they always? They don’t belong). She can’t talk to him about any of this. It’s easier to dedicate herself to the Task Force instead – but James doesn’t seem to understand that either.

Friendships have become more difficult than ever. It’s still easy to put her life into anyone in the Order’s hands. She trusts them with that. But Lily feels more isolated than ever. Hardly anyone seems to remember what they’re fighting for – to save people. To save lives. It’s all become about who is right and who is wrong (Lily forgetting that she too thinks of herself as right and the others as wrong). The people she would trust with her life feel less like friends the further they go into this war together. And yet Lily cannot stop reaching out, even to the friends who seem to greet her with distaste these days, disliking her priorities. Lily will always believe that friendship is important, that tenderness is important. It can’t be true that they are only soldiers these days, and nothing else.

With Severus coming to the Order, Lily will remain deeply conflicted. For so many years, a sign like this, that he was definitively, absolutely choosing her, siding with her, would have meant everything. But as so often with getting the thing you want most, by the time you get it, you can barely recognise it. Lily may well be more suspicious than anyone else, if only because she has been through this before. The desperation to trust him meeting with her deep suspicion that this is just another lie, that she never really knew him at all.

OOC EXPLORATION:

SHIPS/ANTI-SHIPS:

Lily/James, Lily/Chemistry (I very much love writing Lily/James but that doesn’t mean I’m not open to exploring other things or exploring Lily/James in an untypical form. Chemistry is important, and one thing I find very interesting in this rp is the conflict and break down of relationships. On the other side, platonic relationships are very important to me, especially since we know so little of the friendships Lily had, I find them fascinating to develop and deconstruct.)

WHAT PRIVILEGES AND BIASES DOES YOUR CHARACTER HAVE?

I would say Lily’s strongest bias is essentially tunnel vision. She has always tended to believe she knows right and wrong – and that her understanding of right and wrong is what is right and wrong. When it comes to things like the war, she utterly condemns those who choose to fight for the other side – and even, to an extent, those who remain neutral. While she tries to be accepting of it, that not everyone can fight, that people are torn by conflicting loyalties, that it may not be life or death for everyone, she can’t truly understand or respect how anyone could make that choice. Furthermore, she believes what she prioritises is most important. The more she turns to the Task Force, the less she will be able to understand how the others in the Order can so easily dismiss it.

Another bias is against dark magic, which she believes is wrong without exception and looks down on those who use it. This also extends to dark creatures – notably excluding werewolves, due to her long friendship with Remus Lupin (she also tends to be quite biased in favour of those she loves), but creatures such as Dementors, hags, vampires, giants, she tends to regard with fear and disgust. Her boggart would be a Lethifold - another Dark creature, highly aggressive and tending to attack people at night, as they sleep. It symbolises her fear of being defenceless and unable to act to protect those she loves, as well as her deep fear of Dark magic.

For privileges, obviously she lacks privilege in the wizarding world as a Muggle-born and is notably a target of the current war. I would say that lack of privilege is certainly something that spurs her on to protect others. She certainly resents the way she is treated by others and devalued simply for her birth. It’s something that colours her relationship with James – it’s not his fault, but she knows others look down on them being together. They might both well be better off if they weren’t together, in fact, being together makes them a target. As a witch of two worlds, Lily would also be aware of the fact that her privilege is very different in the Muggle world, being white. It’s interesting that in her relationship with James, the privilege would be reversed in the Muggle world. And in fact, Vernon and Petunia’s treatment of James suggests this very personally for Lily, and is something that angers her, yet at the same time, she does want to regain a good relationship with her sister.

WHAT ARE YOU MOST LOOKING FORWARD TO?

There are a lot of aspects I find appealing – I like the way this rp uses multiple player threads so paras involve more than just two characters. It’s something I haven’t seen elsewhere and I find compelling for exploring the whole tapestry of the Order and how the organisation interacts with each other. The focus on the Order also appeals to me – I’m typically far more interested in ‘the good guys’ and especially in exploring the flaws and weaknesses of ‘the good guys’. Lily for one is presented as fairly saintlike in canon and it’s so interesting to deconstruct that image and find out about the real person she was, flaws, warts and all.

PLOT DROP IDEAS (OPTIONAL): N/A for the moment

ANYTHING ELSE? Nothing, thanks for considering me!

#homenumaccepted #harry potter rp #harry potter roleplay #marauders era rp #marauders rp

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woluf · 5 years

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I was going to add this to the reblog of that lat post about veganism but I think I’d rather not because I’m always paranoid that as soon a you ay you’re not against farming people are going to come for you but I’m going to just make a separate post here probably not really going anywhere cause I just want to mouth off about it. FYI this is not be saying I dislike vegans, or veganism, just a certain part of it pointed out in the last reblog. Neither do I support large farming corporations.

I want to just like openly agree with the post, having once lived on a (very small) dairy farm once, and I get hugely frustrated with a lot of the discourse I see surrounding it and total lack of critical thinking that goes on. I’ve spoken to basically militant vegans who openly alway assume when I say I lived in a farm it was a) cows, and b) we partook in the meat industry. Neither were true; we were a very small goat dairy farm on like an acre of land. But that subsect of vegans choose always to ignore this and put all farms into the same Big Bad Pot. Farming and agriculture is and always has been a huge part of the UK and I’m never going to claim to know a massive amount about it, but I do have a very solid lived experience from raising animals (specifically goats) from their birth, death, and everything in between. I had a friend in uni who was like this, who just made assumptions and became incredibly defensive when I tried to have friendly discussions about farming, and whom eventually blocked me on facebook when I politely challenged something she spoke about - more to do with metaphors of the meat/dairy industries than anything. How are we ever going to reach solutions if you just out-right block people telling yo hey! your language is problematic and by the way do you actually care about the people?? but okay.

Anyway. During the financial crisis we experienced after the foot & mouth outbreak in 2001 (our animals were fine, but we couldn’t very easily sell our produce) my parents used credit cards to feed our animals because they are the most important part of your farm. Yes, they’re your livelihood, but you love your animals - you name them, you nurture them, you do you absolute bet to provide care for their well being. My parents are still in debt because of this and losing the farm - we were collateral damage in the eyes of the government - and this we sold up & moved in 2003. I don’t think many people are aware of the impact that losing farms has on the farmers - both financial and psychological. My point here isn’t to bring a lot of that up, but I will say that I remember the day we sold our goats and had to move them onto the livestock lorry in the pissing rain, some goats in kid, and just how miserable it was for everyone and everything involved. I’ve seen clips on tv shows (Countryfile) about people in similar circumstances who lost virtually everything from diseases like foot & mouth and it’s truly, utterly heartbreaking to see.

So my frustration with some types of vegans again is this lack of critical thinking and research they do into farming. Sheep really are stupid, shearing them does not harm them and wool is a by-product that farmers get (from what I recall my mum telling me) less than £1 per fleece. That’s literally nothing - even if you have huge herds, that’s a pittance. Leather is too, although I can’t speak about the cost having never owned cows, and it concerns me about the environmental impact of creating products that are “vegan alternatives”.

Another side of farming is rare breeds - bigger corporations aside, I mean family run and owned business here that are either newer or have been family-run for decades - and how farming can support the continuation of particular rare breeds which extends from cows, pigs to horses. Without farms, these breeds can often be entirely lost. I’ve seen vegans talk about artificial insemination - another part of keeping up rare breeds - like animals are getting raped (!?!?!?!?!). It...just astounds me how people make these comparisons without ever thinking or considering the impact their own choices have (e.g. vegan alternatives) as well as the exploitation of people, predominantly people of colour and the poor. Artificial insemination ha been a part of farming from the 1950′s.

Again, like, I don’t know what the point of me saying this is because I’m always really careful to avoid talking about my opinions on farming as it always seems like a very unpopular opinion to have and I genuinely worry about backlash sometimes, but I just do not believe the farming - big corporate farms aside clearly - is inherently bad. If people want to be vegan I wholly support that, I just resent certain types of vegan folks for their attitudes, because much like the attitudes of some people who eat a lot of meat (for real some people are nasty and I very much do not support those people yikes), it’s not doing anyone or the environment any good.

Please do not rb this. I’ll block you if you do. I just want to talk about my frustrations and experiences but you’re welcome to openly disagree with me and that’s totally cool! I’m just not here for Drama and Discourse.

#sorry this got really long #and I mostly just miss the farm even if it wasn't all good

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kyunsies · 3 years

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Hello Mädch ahsdjaksdh <3 !!

how is college going? dw, I hope you are settling in super well and feeling optimistic about school and all the amazing things I know you are going to achieve this year! I am excited that you are starting your rotations now! you are going to do awesome, I know it! I'm sorry that you didn't get that ICU first like you wanted but hopefully it's all part of the plan so that you get it at the right time for you <3 let me know how they go, of course. I hope they go super well.

the week has been a bit weird to be honest, in my team I had a semi argument that was properly tense for the first time with someone and it was just so unpleasant. you know those people where they aren't horrible but you know that you'll never completely see eye to eye with them? i think it's just one of those things, where we'll never just completely read each other or get each other? and it's not, like, a massive issue or anything that we can't deal with, but I feel like usually I get on really well with people or not at all (all or nothing person I guess haha) but with this person I've just got to admit that we're always going to be a bit in the middle? like, we talked it over, and I've still found sometimes we misunderstand one another? so things are still good in work and clients, but with workpeople it has been the more difficult battle? hopefully we should get some more cool media stuff with the K-pop people soon, so that's an up?

OMGsh your coworkers are so much older than you! [lease do post a picture of your room, I am 100% confident that you have made it so dreamy and pretty. Thank you sm for telling me more about these operations though! I feel like everywhere is on red alert at the moment when it comes to health and care and making sure that people look after themselves and not put others at risk, you know? the doctors that to talk to me about my potential surgeries too have said the same but it's nice hearing it from a friend, you know? so thank youuuu <3 <3

I was the same as you, I would get so so so anxious and stressed if I wasn't studying or working or anything like that? but my mum is like your mum and grandma, where she gets up early too! but I feel like I need to do the late night thing instead? but then once I got into this crazy spiral where I would wake up really early and go to bed really late and like nap in between so I ended up like having two hours of sleep either side? that was peak wth at the time haha XD so now I try and let myself wake up a bit later really XD ha ha I'm in barely adulting! like I work so much but I don't earn a lot ha ha – I don't think that's very effective adulting? or like, I don't know I guess for a lot of people my age there's a work hard and hope it pays off thing in certain industries? so you're definitely more effectively adulting than me right now! like, you're going to do stuff that's gonna actively help people and you'll see that right in front of you, you know!!? sometimes my work gets out there but I rarely see directly if it gets to make peoples lives better you know? so the path you're on is so so admirable <3 <3 <3

I get you though, do you find that you thrive under the pressure even though it's sometimes a lot? I find that sometimes it does help me, but sometimes I forget to identify the times when it isn't helping me? or, sometimes I take it too far? so please look out for yourself and take care of yourself <3 and when you're worried if you're on the edge know that it's enough for you to take a rest and not be super perfect. i sometimes tell myself to except that I'm probably gonna make two or three stupid mistakes a day? It sounds kind of silly but it means that it makes it easier for me to accept when I mess up, idk, I think it helps me balance the pressure sometimes? i 100% understand what you're saying - at school do they have people that can directly help? or like peer supporters so it's not as stressful or official feeling as a therapist? if you ever want me to come off anon to help lemme know <3 i'm always here for you <3

oh my gosh your grandparents have been able to live long too! all my grandparents lived close to 100 before passing, and one of my grandmothers had the same as your grandfather. he sounds so sweet and so kind though! i love that he knows how to FaceTime you! Some of my aunts and uncles still don't properly haha. it sounds like he knows that he's super loved though, he's very lucky <3 <3 i've been thinking about all this really lovely stuff and how it grounds you when stuff like careers can stress you out and feel like the most important thing when it shouldn't be? what are the personality differences between the different areas of the US? my East Coast friends seem to straight talk a lot more than my West Coast friends? like they're a lot more realistic as opposed to being, I don't know laid-back or if not laid-back sometimes just more comfortable with superficial stuff? Not like my West Coast friends are superficial people, but I think they accept it as part of the world a bit better? my friends on the east coast will rail against that stuff a lot more, like they buy into the influencer bullshit less? but I guess these are all sweeping generalisations anyway... I might have to travel a bit in europe soon... I got asked to go to otaly for some work today, and to holland next month. Idk if it will end up happening though, things change all the time? I have to keep checking quarantine rules all the time with countries! but YAY and YES Europe tour trip one day :D !!!!!!!

you know what? when I first saw you compare bowling and golf I was like, wait, what? but now I totally get it! i know a golfer and they talk about how physical and strenuous it is on the arms and stuff all the time which I don't think always comes across when you watch it and it makes a lot of sense with how you describe how you trained for bowling! i used to cox in rowing and I always used to find it really funny that I said that was the sport I did because honestly I just sat in the boat all the time and steered XD

obligatory YES WTF ARE COTTON SCENTS! quite a few shops in the city where I live have been closing down because of Covid but our Jo Malone is still going strong! I love that lots of already classic clothing shops have now gone out of business but for some reason the people where I live cannot live without their perfume XD I think I'm gonna go in later this week or next week to take a look! with all this travelling I kind of want to buy something new? also, my hands have been acting up with injury so I have to rest my hands more anyway – so might as well look for perfume right? do you have any recommendations or would the blueberry one you've just gotten be at the top of your list?

the exciting thing is that I'm doing a bit less this week! I need to wait and see if that job wants me to fly out to Italy within the next 48 hours, if not next week, but if not I think I'm gonna figure out how to rehabilitate my joints a bit and get my brain okay? It's been existential Covid crisis week haha - I think a lot of me and my friends have been feeling like we've lost so much of our lives and potential during this time and I've really tried to hold in and ignore it for the past 18 months? i'm not one to ever feel lonely or to really really want to be in a relationship like some of my friends, but I've just been feeling it this week? like, I love my independence, but I wouldn't say no to a boyfriend right now you know? I feel silly saying that sometimes because I'm so against feeling like you have to have someone in your life to be okay, but I guess that's just a result of how the world is has been recently?? but I think all my feelings exploded around this stuff now so, I am trying to get back into a better place? so it's not as exciting as some of the stuff I've told you about before, but it's what's up I guess?

how are your mum and grandmother doing? are they doing good? [lease send all my love to them too. I'm glad these help you reflect on your week! they do with me too and I'm always happy to hear from you, no matter how long you might need <3 <3 hope you manage to reward yourself for working so hard these past days and that you remember you're always doing 110% so you deserve the best!

love you lots and lots - 💥

ANGEL HELLO !!!!!!!!! i told myself i would stay on top of this and swear in a timely manner but ;_____; a full week + 2 clinical rotations later here i am on a sunday, it seems this is always the case :( maybe my get back to you day will only be on sundays LOL i will try my best in the future babe, but ofc thank you so much for being patient with me <3

uni is going fine so far hun !!!! i've started clinical rotations as i've said on thursday and friday, and then my first exam is on tuesday so i read some chapters yesterday so i'm not squished for time lol :) and ,,,, what you said "hope it's all part of the plan" is very much my way of thinking lol wha is your sign? i'm a sagittarius and that's like, a philosophy i go by like everything is how it's supposed to be even if it's not what u want like everything will work itself out :') i'm wondering if we are one in the same !!!!! <3

and omg ;_____; conflict within the workplace is NEVER easy bc all everyone wants is to reach the goal you all are reaching and bc there's some bumps in the road it makes everything that much more stressful :( and i know exactly the type of person you are talking about LOL i've had to work with some of my peers in the hospital who really didn't treat me all that nicely , but i still have to partner up with them anyways bc we had to move a patient lol ; like they never do anything terrible to you but you just cannot come to a proper agreement with them? i know the feeling :( but i can tell you are doing ur absolute best ;_____; it's a tough situation ,,,,,,,,, but may i propose something ??? maybe since things are high stress in the workplace, would u be willing to meet them outside the workplace, like a quick coffee meet up and then discuss those issues? maybe talking about it in the work environment is way too stressful for both of u and it is hard to come to an agreement, but maybe in a calmer, more informal setting do u think maybe the both of u could be like "hey, what u were talking about i'm not really head over heels for but this is what i think and do u think we can do something where both of us will be happy?" im thinking maybe will opening up a means for more civilized discussion?? just a thought LOL :') let me know how it goes :( i hope u are all able to figure everything out !!!!!

about the surgeries !!!!! like i said i know it's super stressful to think about bc this is one of the very few times in life where things are absolutely out of our control and that scares us, and we as medical providers aren't supposed to give u a false sense of security, but i promise u everything will be just fine as long as u correctly follow up with care post-op :) we wouldn't want an infection !!!! >;( i remember last year i had a patient and she was going in for a routine colonoscopy and she was scared shitless ,,,,,,, but i was like "listen ma'am i know it can seem scary but i was just in there with the doctors and everything is super relaxed and they know what they're doing in there, you'll be out in no time and i'll be here waiting !!" and that seemed to help her a lot, after the surgery she was on me like flies on shit LOL she was like "THANK U HONEY" (but i think most of it was bc she was still drugged up hhh)

LOL us with our family members waking up early <3 literally this morning i decided to do my laundry at 8am (its only 10 right right now lol) but idk it just make u feel a little bit better doesn't it? but oh my gosh no i don't see u in this way at all ;_____; babe like you're already THERE in the world working and to me like ,,,,,, being an effective functioning person in society is like all i ever want i just want to be COMPETENT and the fact that u manage ppl ???? it's already a lot of responsibility but you do it everyday like you go to work u make food for yourself u pay bills like yes this all kinda sucks but you're there doing it and idk ,,,,,,,, like u being in this position is like yeah their surviving in the world and doing okay !!!! so that’s how i see u hun ;_____;

and i don’t think i necessarily thrive under pressure but i just kinda ,,,,,,, handle it?? like i think i handle my stress quite well !!! i think the reason why making mistakes scares me so much in my field is bc if i make a mistake i can like, kill someone or seriously harm them if i do something wrong SLKDFJ but i have to remember i’m still just a student and a lot of the things that i’ll learn won’t even be in these last few months of nursing school, but rather during my months of orientation on the floor i’ll be working on when i finally land a job ,,,,,, i know i just have to be patient and kind to myself, but it’s hard not having these high expectations for myself bc everyone else pushes themselves super hard (nurses i mean) so i feel like i should be too , ya know? ;_____; it’s a hard balance that i’ve yet to find but hopefully once i graduate i’ll have just a little bit more confidence in myself :’)

and omg your grandparents lived a long life as well !!!!!!!! a lot of my friends’ grandparents are really young still, so it’s hard for others to relate i think LOL but :(((( i’m really lucky to have them around still and like, i feel like my grandparents are the cornerstone of our whole entire family; once they pass i’m not quite sure what will happen ;_____; so i’m just trying to cherish every moment that i have with them even tho sometimes it’s stressful lol ; also BOUT THE DIFFERENCES FROM EAST TO WEST COAST LOL ; i think u described it really well actually :) like among the friends u have the are from different parts of the states, it’s very accurate in my opinion !! and again after all it is just a very broad assumption, in general east coasters have this “workaholic” attitude, they tend to be very realistic which i actually appreciate a lot lol, i’m hoping to live near the east coast when i move out <3 now where i am from it is considered the midwest even tho it’s more east than west if u look at it on the map LMAO and like, it’s really funny bc if u say to someone you’re from the midwest they’ll tell u our reputation is being “too nice” LSKDLFJSKLD and like that’s our thing, a happy medium between coasts with big cities but small towns too and generally just very chill and nice ,,,,,,,, the south of the US is also known for having that “southern hospitality” overall very cheerful ppl with personality and super kind attitude on life :) now the west of the US i’m not saying there aren’t nice ppl out there bc there are LOL but esp near lost angeles or hollywood ofc you’re going to have ppl very stuck up bc ya know they made it to big bad LA and they want to be trendy with all of the fake health shit (celery juice does NOTHING FOR U sorry lol) generally my view of the west is just very fake and i would never want to have my family grow up there LMAO but that generally like, california and washington but like, utah or wyoming or colorado are just absolutely gorgeous and they have small town ppl there bc there are a lot of ranches there ,,,,,,,, does any of this make sense to u ??? KLASFJ

i’m going to skip a few paragraphs bc this is so long already LMAO but trust me i’ve read everything so far lol ; it seems like you’re doing a lot of traveling !!!!!! <3 i’m so jealous !!!!!!!! italy sounds so beautiful i would love love to go some day :( ALSO U SMELLED THE BLUEBELL PERFUME RIGHT ???? U LIKED IT ?????? doesn’t it smell absolutely divine??? no matter how many scents i smelled after that i knew it was the right one for me ldkfsdlkfj <3 i’m still so in love with it ;____; also about ur lil rant about feeling lonesome :( bub i can really relate to this and i feel the same way like my mom and the rest of my family never pushed me to meet anyone and i’ve always never had a problem making friends, but like, as i’m older and i realize i’ll be alone a lot more of my time once i graduate like i really do want to share my life with someone :( i have a lot of love and i want to be able to show it to someone i care about a lot but i just never really take the initiative to do that bc quite honestly i’m not confident in myself lMAO so ,,,,,,, i know we never feel like we need to be dependent on someone but sharing experiences with someone who feels very strongly for u seems nice, doesn’t it? i wish this for both of us really soon okay?? <3 i tell my friends i would LOVE to be engaged right now lskdjfslfjs :’)

but anyways !!!!!!!! my mom and the rest of my family is doing well <3 and i’m doing okay too !!!!!! i don’t want to bore u with how clinicals are going but if u want me to tell u just let me know LOL and angel i know i say it all the time but always thank u so much for being patient with me okay? u are the absolute best !!!!!! also as promised, here are a few pics of my dorm room LOL it’s a shoebox but it’s my shoebox :) enjoy !!!!!!

#asks #💥 anon #my dorm is the oldest one on campus so :’) it looks a little ugly but I try my best MXJDJD #ignore the popcorn bag on the side :)#also peep the jo malone perfume LOL

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w1737087 · 3 years

Text

1st June

Sipped on mango juice through the night.

Up at around 9 from mother’s rigid voice and all her disputes with father.

Got up shut the door and shut the window. I could still hear her.

I finally placed multiple orders on ear buds..

Today she thinks dads out with a woman

I put on back to sleep playlist and later fell asleep. It was hard work, to fall asleep,

Dad called. I ignored it.

Kay called. I ignored it.

Up before 3pm and out of bed by 3

I cried before sleeping from all the frustration and triggering the sack of thoughts about my never ending tribulations and vast entrapment by mother.

Dreams? A little fucked up.

Shambolic scenarios being slammed in and out of one from another.

Killing bunnies?

Interrupted sex dream?

Other weird & hectic shit happened I cannot recall but I remember being sucked in by my pillows into some visions like a vacuum literally PULLING my face in. This happened twice and funny thing, I was in my mind REALISING it but also having the want to not... wake up because of it so I gave in again. It soon..was getting intense. Not scary but just hitting the red meter and I thought I’d burst and die and mentally I recited my shahada. Again, no fear, just intensity. Who dreams like this? For someone who dreams a lot this was something new I experienced.

When I woke all I concluded was that I really wanted to sleep. I hadn’t gotten enough and knew I wanted to get some more to meet the amount I should have gotten.

By 4pm completed the last mask sitting in the bed in my parents room.

Packed it up got ready. The little one tagged along. Dad came home and stormed back out. Mother has been fighting over the phone with him since the morning disrupting my sleep. I can hear her all day as I get on with my own day.

We went to post office to drop the mask sack off. Learnt what postage stamps are really for. A source of posting currency. Second band I sent it. Dad actually waited near the shops on the way there spontaneously, he called and we hopped in.

He took us McDonalds and we ate sitting in beckton car park. It was hot.

The little un wanted to return her books and I also needed to go to the high street.

We didn’t do either and I felt bad for not having taken her where I told her we’d go.

She also mentioned the zoo recently and I said a couple weeks time.

I’ve got to tell work I ain’t working my usual days then I’ll plan the zoo.

The car park is pretty empty. Around us boxed tarmac and in front upgraded stores.

Dads wearing a half sleeved shirt and

I wanted a fag as he had his.

I sat at the front, the little one at the back.

She talks about newspapers and her friends hand drawing being in today’s paper. She wanted to see. Dad only had dated ones.

I had one in my hands now and decided to do a crossword puzzle and a sudoku. I was really into the crossword as we arrived home.

We came home and through the journey dad talked about mother’s behaviour and she called a couple times and I didn’t like it. She is just so bothersome. Rightfully so but to witness it and know enough of what’s going on I’d without a doubt shove a muzzle on my mother for life and let my dad be. She would also be settled by this. Then I would be and that’s my main motive.

6pm

Tried to poop. Fail.

Eldest was in the shower. She was prompt.

Middle one wanted to go. I got out unbothered as i couldn’t go.

Came up

18:10

Lit up out the window.

My heart does that thing again.

Somethings deeply wrong. Inside of me I know for a fact there’s a riot, flaccid tears, somewhere along in the past couple weeks or further back I malfunctioned.

I don’t know if this is anxiety or not but I find myself alone and noticing my heart beating at an abnormal rate. It is everything but peace. I feel horrifyingly unsettled. I’ve got the essays I’ve got to write on my mind. It’s a factor in play as well as the wrecked sleep and I just feel so so insufferable these days. I can’t stop it, I try to be calm, I seem calm, I tell myself calm, I am so, but just as I am, I am entirely not all fine. Whatcwr this is I need it stop. My motner and her aura, ber behaviour which wrecks my sleep every morning as well as being underpaid at work and so many otber reasons. I cannot seem to stabilise myself correctly enough anymore. Everytime I want to yell at my parents it goes down mentally and when with them individually it’s to come out as I would be deemed crazy to blurt these issues out at the wrong times. At the right time it doesn’t work either. Either their good mood or their something is in the way. I’m doing so many things wrong and i just feel I’m in the middle of an identity crisis too. I don’t go to uni, I picture my desk and have no clue what’s there, I don’t go so label it as I can’t go, my baby sis is growing up and I haven’t been there, day by day I still feel I’m doing wrong by her, now that I’ve started work I’ve wasted time to better things with her. I don’t want to be here in this house and nobody will let me leave. I have no one to speak to because speaking to people is all that’s ever done, they hear they listen but they just don’t know the root of my problems and I am just beyond in need of help. How do I survive another year of this and manage to build the money and courage to move myself out of here, i don’t want grey hairs, if they show up I’ll know I’m damaging rn and I want to be settled if anything for now, for whatcwr this feeling inside of my chest is to mellow. It’s hectic between my rib cage there and my mind is swell. They are not in sync. I am not fine. Summer always had me feeling a type of way too. It’s a very very fine day and I want it but I feel once it comes around every year I’m not a part of it. Ever. It’s like it’s always for the world except for me. I cannot indulge in it enough to feel like it’s for me too.

The house is empty for now. Just us girls. Parents gone out to get some papers for the little one.

They may be back. I don’t know. I’m in my room holed up.

Mood today:

Absolutely off

Down

Unsettled, torn.

18:40 tbwy levaw. The sisters now. I’m all alone. It’s Such a rarity I don’t have time to pick what to do. Today’s agenda was to begin emailing Stewart and getting started on something to do with the essays.

I’m still dressed.

I cleaned up the powder that fell to the ground dispersing into a thousand pieces from my compact blush case.

I remember growing massively agitated over it as it was a fat mess and it fell like they always somehow accidentally do due to lack of space here and how I always always mentally be careful to not let them fall and they do anyway.AND I GET WO MAD

🆘

Recap

Been a busy day. Productive.

Moved extension cord back. Had to move alll my shoes and did rearrange them better seeing as the few at the bottom were damaging by the compression.

Tidied the messy tower of clothes on my chair.

Emptied the underwear drawers and distributed everyone’s own to their own rooms. Assigned the two empty drawers to the little one now. She needs the space.

Liphi went for her lip filler appointment today with Nam who didn’t wanna go with.

We FaceTimed later around 9:45 for a bit.

Her lips are bruised.

I cleaned the floor. Emptied the bin, enjoyed the brief empty house before bleaching and washing my shirts.

Shuffled some things around

Tidied the bedside table and some of the drawer, moved all the bundles of colour pencils and placed them in my art box under the bed, the drawer now has better space but still clogged as usual.

Opened a package which held my sports bras that I wanted more of after having one. They stabilise my breasts well.

The little one stayed by me as I cleaned my room. She was refolding her clothes all very neatly for their new place.

She went out with my parents when the house was empty to collect madrasah forms and tbwy went shopping at galleons. From H&M she bought a sky blue dress, trackies with hearts on them, pink sliders with cartoon slapped on and a pair of leggings.

Meals:

Macdonnas in the car with dad

Late night lasagne. 00:30

Ice cream from truck - sister bought after I sorted out everyone’s underwear with the little one in parents room. She sat in her car much of that hour.

Brain kicker

A nutty Lindt bar and I just ain’t taking care of my body anymore am I in terms of eating matter..

Notes

Sneezed 3 times

Thought about that bee lad at today.

Remembering to take my vitamins.

Killed my first mosquito tonight and seeing more than a couple. This means summer has officially kicked in.

Almost burnt the entire microwave down and could have blown a fuse. I placed my lasganve in and the wrapped food pack it was in caught fire immediately and I lunged at the push button.

Couldn’t blow the flames off as they were too great. Tossed it in the sink quickly and splashed water all over it which went everywhere too.

I was very alarmed. I don’t find myself in such situations that cause panic ever really.

Didn’t go to the Palestine protests as there were fights breaking out and harm occurring with the movement.

Humayra’s in the bathroom at midnight when I’ve already set my clothes in there and was ready to shower. I went back up for something and did an arm workout for 30 minutes or so including some rnr

I didn’t like that she was in there at this hour, why is it every time I need the bathroom she utilises it. I felt aggravated and those thoughts immediately crept in that I need out, I need my own place where I can get shit done without wasting these few minutes a couple hundred times a day of everyday due to others. It’s literally slowing my life down and she’s in the way of my kitchen and bathroom use, more so the latter this season.

So I showered, scrubbed my face, ears, in between toes and all and finally done with my day around 3am

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awed-frog · 7 years

Note

I saw your notes on the outrageous post about the 1% and I couldn't help but be curious about they things your friend experienced...

Hi there! So, yeah, it’s kind of a freakish story, because Iwent to high school with this girl - we were in the same class, andshe was so sweet - the bookwormish and Did you know there’sa wasp called Aha ha and ‘save the whales’ kind ofstudent, you know? And after graduating, she studied maths, and thenwe sort of lost touch - I heard she was working in London when I wasliving in the UK, so I reached out and got a very weird email back.We finally met on a train, just randomly, about five years afterthat, and that’s when she told me what had happened to her.

[Disclaimer: I’m not saying all banks and consulting companiesare cults, but if how much money you make depends on how many peopleyou screw over, then maybe it’s normal you attract a crowd ofpsychopaths and pathological narcissists, and things generally godownhill from there.]

So, the thing is - with a maths degree, you can do a lot of stuff,but my friend had a bit of an adulting crisis at the end of herstudies, because, she told me, every choice seemed so very permanentand she wasn’t ready to commit to a 3-years research program orteacher training or whatever, and this is when she was headhunted bythe banking industry and basically they made her believe they’d bethe right fit for her.

(And let me just say - because of my Oxford degree, I’ve beentargeted as well, and that one evening I spent with them remains oneof the scariest beyond the looking glass shit I’veever experienced in my life.)

Of course, their offer is dreamy - a flexible whatever, she leaveswhen she wants, she gets a free course in what they need her to do, asalary with a shitton of zeroes and the job is based infucking London - and at this point, my friend isstill a normal a kid and she’s thinking, I’m notenthusiastic about what banks get up to and it’s not the mostinteresting thing I could do with my degree, but hey, maybe I canlive in the UK for a couple of years and make some money and thenfind something better. And so off she went, and as she told meabout how she found her first flat, well, that’s the same thing Iwas going through in that same period some sixty miles away, becauseshe still had a normal budget (what she’d saved till then? summerjobs and grandparents’ gifts and some paid grading) and it’s hardto find a reasonably priced room in London, so she had to picksomething that was more than one hour away from the City and thatsounded like a very boring and long commute, but hey, London! And atthis point, you know, she looked out of the window, and her storystarted to become a bit more disconnected, jumping back and forth, soI’ll try to piece it together chronologically, but man, it wasreally chilling to hear it out of order, and I wish you’d beenthere with me because I don’t know how well I can put it intowords.

Anyway, so the first thing that’s a problem are her clothes: shecan see that as soon as she steps into the place, the way people lookat her, and she doesn’t get it, because she’s wearing this smartpantsuit she’s already uncomfortable in, and what the fuck? Andluckily she doesn’t have to wonder long, because that’s, like,the first thing her boss (a man) says to her: that she can’t dresslike that, because she’s going to meet clients from time to timeand that’s just not appropriate and my friend - a shy 23-year-oldwho grew up in the mountains, in a village of 46 people - stilldoesn’t know what she’s doing wrong, exactly, and it’sso embarrassing, because this is a man twenty years hersenior and her boss and she’s talking to her like she’s naked orsome shit, and finally - finally - he explains that she can’t buyoff the rack - tailor-made only, please. And she’s so stunned shejust babbles that she can’t afford that and this guy - this guytakes his wallet and places, like, 10 000 pounds on the deskand Please go get changed.

(“It was like Pretty Woman,” my friendsaid, “except creepier, because I didn’t know the rules. Ididn’t know, well - I was shocked. Like, was that a test? Should Itake the money or not? And if I take it, does that come out of mypaycheck? Is it a gift? Do I have a choice over the clothes I wear ornot? Should I stand up for myself or give up? How do I make a goodimpression here?”)

And the thing is, you want to be polite, right? You want to fitin. You assume other people know better.

(Especially as a young woman.)

And so my friend took the money and said thank you and spent herfirst morning shopping in a weird luxury place that only had one ofeach and came with complimentary champagne and truffle-flavoured hamand there were no curtains and no changing rooms and she had to stripdown to her underwear right in front of the saleswoman, but it alsodidn’t matter because she was the only customer and the shop lookedlike someone’s living room and again, what are the rules?

And the thing is - the way she described it, every day was likethat in several small, insidious ways, every day there were athousand moments when she didn’t know what people expected fromher, and slowly the desire to be a good colleague turned into a thisis completely normal and how everyone lives thing and shedidn’t even notice it was happening.

Like, at first she’d been shocked by the price of meals. Peoplewould routinely order up food, or go out for dinner and spendthousands of pounds on one lunch.

(Thousands. Of. Pounds.)

And she’d been shocked by the rent of her new apartment (with a60-minute commute, she had maybe two hours of sleep a night, so shehad to move closer to the City), because £5000 a month? Back in uni,that had been her budget for a whole semester. And she’dbeen shocked by how many clothes and shoes and designer handbags sheseemed to be needing. And at how she’d stopped doing anything forherself, or having any control over her body - she never had the timeto cook, or even shop (her luxury kitchen was pristine, her fridgeempty), and someone would come into work and do her hair and nailsand whatever else it is that women need and barely ask her aboutstyle and colour because they could see she was out of her depth.

(“You remember how I was before, right? When I first arrived inLondon, I didn’t know how foundation worked. I never painted mynails, either. For job interviews and stuff I’d wear some of thateasy-to-apply eyeliner and mascara and feel like Greta Garbo, but inmy office, it was considered - people just frowned at you, you know?Or disregarded your wishes, or whatever. One day - it must have beena week after I started - a beautician just showed up, started talkingto me as if we’d arranged an appointment, asked me to chose betweenfour shades of pink that looked the same to me. Turns out, acolleague had told her to come to me next, already paid for it, sowhat do you do? I had to sit there in front of everybody and let thiswoman do my nails - I felt like an animal in a zoo, but nobody waslooking at me, nobody found it weird.”)

And, look, I can’t really explain it the way she did, but whathappened next was that she didn’t have time to come home for avisit for, like, eight months, and when she finally showed upeveryone was half proud, half terrified, because yeah, she lookedgood and rich and successful, but she was also -completely different? When she’d left, she’d beenthis normal kid, vaguely left-wing, who’d liked hiking and onlyowned sport bras, and now she was - she was weird. Shehad no sense of reality. No compassion for anything or anyone. Shewas cold, annoyed by everything, incredulous at the fact herfavourite brands were not available in local shops, insisting thather parents and siblings should buy this and that to make their livesbetter. She ended up fighting with mostly everyone and going back toLondon after three days, and in the year after that, she only tookholidays with colleagues - three days of snorkeling in Kenya, aprivate plane party, a weekend of golfing in Scotland - and now shewas the one ordering the most expensive bottle on the menu androlling her eyes at badly-dressed interns, because - she’d made it.She was the 1%.

(Or would get there, anyway.)

Luckily, there’s a happy ending, and it’s surprisinglyanticlimatic.

One night, my friend looked up from a party of high-endprostitutes and drunken antics and she suddenly saw how crazy andunhealthy it all was. It just happened. She looked at the woman onher left, snorting cocaine and laughing, and then at the man on herright, who had a stripper on his lap, and she just - stood up andleft. The very next day, she quit the firm, donated half her earningsto charity, travelled through South America for three months beforegoing back to university. Now she’s a researcher (she doessomething complicated to do with game theory, and I don’tunderstand any of it), and also - she’s back to her old lovelyself. She sees her friends, she gets on well with her family. She’skind. She’s normal. As I said - happy ending.

#ask #the 1%#meanwhile irl #i know this is just one story #but i heard very similar things #from other people #private banks and consulting firms #seem to be the worst offenders #and btw #never underestimate how easy it is to be brainwashed #big companies do it for a living #and they're damn good at it

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