#he literally RAN their bank account

[daydadahlias]

How you infantilize the other members of 5sos is very weird

yeah because it's totally my fault that they've all said he's the mom/dad of the band. i actually forced them to say that and receive royalties every time they do!

[jjngkook7]

Motives (1)

NCT Jaehyun X Reader / Demon AU / Angst, Fluff (?), Suggestive Smut

Summary: You didn’t know how good you had it until your new job suddenly takes you far away from home. Desperate to settle into your new life, you turn to an eccentric medium who introduces you to an entity named Jaehyun. He offers you three wishes, but do you dare make a deal with the devil? ***Please ignore the mantra later. I literally copied and pasted their Favourite lyric sorry if its CRINGE****

“Goodnight! Love you!” you force the biggest smile you can as you wave to your best friend over facetime.

“Goodnight!” Karina blows you a kiss and the call ends.

A heavy sigh escapes your lips as you drop your head onto your pillow. Your phone lays still on your stomach and you’re tempted to just throw it across your room until it shatters into a million pieces. Seeing your loved ones posting little life updates on social media used to warm your heart but is now the reason you cry yourself to sleep. Facetime calls with your friends went from every other day to every other week because there was really nothing to update them on besides work and how much you missed them. Besides, you didn’t want to burden your friends with the knowledge of how truly alone you felt. You took a peek at the time and let out another sigh when you realized that if you wanted to get through the day tomorrow, you had to sleep now.

As a creature of habit, the prospect of relocating to a new city for work was almost off the table. You’d be a plane ride away from everything and everyone once knew. Your new employer gave you a week to decide and for the whole week, you contemplated long and hard. Your family and friends were completely supportive of your move for good reason: you get to explore a new place, expand your view on the world and make new connections. Alongside the possibility of growing as an individual, the job also promised a pay raise and a better role. All these great reasons eventually led you to make the move. After two months, your bank account was a little bigger, your role in the company was a little better and your mental health was a little worse. The city you moved to was the complete opposite of where you came from. First, this place was significantly smaller than the bustling city you grew up in and seemed to be in the middle of nowhere. Second, a fun time was going to the only plaza in the middle of town to buy knick knacks for your home. Finally, it was quiet and actually quite peaceful. The citizens here really cared about preserving the environment as much as possible, so highways were few to none and many people chose to walk or bike. You appreciated how much closer the mountains looked and how much cleaner the air smelled but there was no one to appreciate the serenity with. For a creature of habit, you were kind of pleased with the limited amount of restaurants and shops to choose from but once again, it was hard to appreciate these things without someone to share it with. Your growing loneliness made this small city seem so much larger than it was.

“Tomorrow will be a better day,” a mantra you whispered every night before bed in hopes to manifest for the next day.

__________________________________

A shiver ran down your spine as a cold breeze blew past. You hugged your scarf closer to your face and quickened your pace in order to get home faster. Autumn settled a little too quickly for your liking. The weather was constantly gloomy and with your city being so close to the mountains, it was already below freezing. In the past few weeks, you worked really hard to remain grateful and positive to get through the day. You put in a lot of effort to make your place feel like home and you tried to foster some sort of relationship with your coworkers. Your coworkers were a lot older than you but hearing them talk about their family and weekend activities was somewhat comforting to hear about during lunch breaks. However, with the days getting shorter and the weather getting worse, you worried that you would slip back into old habits.

As you kept your head down to bury as much of your face in the warmth of your scarf, you noticed a weird tune playing a couple feet in front of you. Curious about the source, you first noticed neon pink lights dancing on the sidewalk as you lifted your head. Your eyes went towards a store front you never saw before despite walking down the same sidewalk to get home for almost three months. A flashing pink palm with the words “PSYCHIC” in the middle decorates the mysterious storefront. You inspected the shop a little more and noticed that it was only twenty dollars to get a full reading. You scoffed, figuring that this store was a scam just like every other pseudoscience out there and averted your gaze. As you continued down the block, you thought about what you were going to do this weekend and felt an all too familiar ache in your heart. There was no one to see, no where you wanted to go and nothing you really wanted to do. Your pace slowed down as you thought about your sad weekend plans. Your cold hands formed into fists in your jacket pocket as you tried to push the intrusive thoughts about how pathetic and lonely you were. I worked way too hard to keep feeling like shit. You felt your body go backwards until you were in front of the psychic store again. Maybe they can tell me what to do this weekend.

You almost gasped at how much colder the store was inside compared to outside which was odd considering how cozy it was decorated. The lights were dim creating a warm and welcoming atmosphere. A large, fuzzy white rug sat in the middle of the store with two green sofas on top. On the side was a large wooden bookshelf with various texts, trinkets and a diffuser spraying out what seemed to be an essential oil of some sort. You peered around the store and noticed that you were the only person inside. As you looked around more, you noticed a closed door in the back leading to what you assumed was the staff room. Continuing your guessing games, you wondered if the staff couldn’t hear you come in. You walked over to the wooden bookshelf and skimmed through the spines. There were lots of titles you expected in a store such as this like, “Speaking With the Other World” and “Supernatural Beings”. What caught your eye was a large crystal ball with what looked like clouds trapped in the sphere. It seemed like the closer you looked inside, the bigger the clouds got. You reached out your hand to hold the ball but quickly retreated when you suddenly felt the hairs on your body stand. You turned around, swearing you felt someone behind you but found no one else in the store. Wanting to suddenly leave, you turned on your heels and headed towards the front door.

“I’m sorry, were you waiting long?” a voice asked from behind.

You thought your soul had escaped from your body from how hard you jumped. You quickly turned to face whoever spoke.

“Did I scare you? I’m so sorry!”

You couldn’t help the racing of your heart as you scanned around the room. Where could this person have come from? You looked towards the back door and noticed that it was still closed. Were you too engrossed in that stupid crystal ball to hear them open and close the door? Your eyes went back towards the man standing in front of you. He looked almost as worried as you with his brows furrowed and his hands placed in front of him. His bangs were long, almost covering his eyes and he had little beauty marks scattered around his face.

“I just-I didn’t hear you,” you stammered, embarrassed by your reaction, “sorry I just-I thought-“

“I think we both need to calm down,” he laughed and reached out his hands towards you, “I’m Haechan! I will be the one to do your reading if you’re interested.”

You shook his hand and felt a jolt run through your arm, he was ice cold.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you smiled back, “I was just curious because I walk by here everyday and have never seen your store before.”

“Ah,” Haechan nodded, “we kind of just opened like yesterday. Before I took over, this store was literally just a grey building which is probably why you’ve never noticed until now. Please sit!” he gestured towards the sofas.

You hesitated but eventually gave in to the thought of how this might turn out to be a funny story to tell your friends over facetime later. Haechan waited for you to get comfortable before taking a seat across from you.

“So what brings you in today?” he asked.

You scratched your head in thought. You battled the desire to vomit up your sob story to this stranger because it would feel so good to just talk to someone and be honest without feeling like a burden. Your friends knew you were having a hard time settling into your new life but they didn’t know the extent of how miserable you were and there was no way in hell you were going to open up to your coworkers. Another thought hit you, if this guy really was a psychic, shouldn’t he know why you’re here?

“I honestly was just curious.” you finally answered.

Haechan hummed in thought and leaned towards you. You felt your face get warm by how intensely he was staring at you. Is this part of the reading…?

“You haven’t been doing well huh? I’m picking up something to do with transition, dissatisfaction and loneliness.” he suddenly says after what seemed like forever.

You felt your heart begin to race again. You knew that psychics do cold readings and their predictions are usually very general but what are the chances of him describing your situation to a T in three words.

“Uh…kind of.” an uncomfortable laugh escapes from you.

Haechan shoots you a sympathetic smile and you swear the room suddenly gets colder.

“Change is hard but adapting to change is harder. You must remember your strengths during these times. Just looking at you, I can tell you’re more than capable of fighting through this.” Haechan says.

You smile and feel a sense of victory. He was right, you are strong and capable! It felt good to get some validation even if it was coming from a conman.

“I can’t fix your problems for you but I can offer some ways you can practice mindfulness in order to heal your energy. On a scale of 1-10, how accepting are you of help?” he asked.

“I’m pretty open minded.” you lied.

Whatever this guy was going to tell you to do, you were absolutely not going to do. You figured that for an extra $50 he was going to perform some stupid energy healing for you where you guys sit in silence for a few minutes while he closes his eyes and pretends to speak to your "spirit guides".

“Repeat this mantra three times after the clock strikes midnight and you’ll find your greatest desire fulfilled.” Haechan says instead.

He hands you a little piece of paper, which you swore he produced from thin air. You take the paper from his hands and read what’s on it. Thorns, crown, poison. Let my world shatter as I swallow it all. You gasped as your eyes looked up from the paper and you see Haechan standing in front of you. The room becomes unbearably cold as he looms over you. You then notice that he’s wearing jeans and a simple cotton t-shirt.

“I keep scaring you tonight, I’m so sorry!” he apologized.

“It’s alright! You just move so quietly!” you laughed as you wave his apology away.

You and Haechan exchange a few more words before you decide to call it a night. He fights you as you try to pay him $20 for his scam. He argued that since you’re his first customer, he wants to give you the session for free.

“If the mantra works within the week, then come back and I will take your $20.” Haechan suggests.

“Sounds good!” you agree, “I hope it does then!”

”It will.” Haechan chuckles, but the laugh doesn't reach his eyes.

You wave one final goodbye to Haechan as he closes the door. The cold autumn air seems to warm up your freezing body. How the fuck is he just in a t-shirt. Maybe my $20 will go towards a heater for his store. As you walked home, you felt a sense of contentment wash over you. You tried something new for the first time since you moved here and you couldn’t wait to tell your friends about it!

You stretched your legs as far as you could as you plopped down on your bed. After a long hot shower and a face mask, you were ready to get comfy and watch tv all night. You rolled over to your nightstand to grab your remote when your attention lands on the paper Haechan gave you earlier. You sit up and grab the paper. For a mantra that was supposed to be uplifting, it was kind of dark. You laughed to yourself at the thought of Haechan typing this out on his computer and printing it out to give to potential clients. You came this far with this ridiculous scam, you might as well just finish-and it was free! You checked the time on your phone. 12:01 am. Three times right? You closed your eyes and whispered the mantra to yourself secretly hoping that things would look up from here.

________________________________

”Going somewhere, Jae?”

Jaehyun yawned as a portal appeared beneath his feet.

“I’m heading to work,” he replied while stretching his arms, “thanks for the new customer, Haechan.”

Haechan gave Jaehyun a thumbs up as he watched the portal glow brighter until Jaehyun began to disappear into the other world. As Jaehyun prepared himself for his entrance, he wondered what his new client would be like and how long it would take before they destroyed themselves. Haechan bet a week and Jaehyun bet a month, winner got to keep the customer’s soul.

[siconetribal]

Put It On My Tab: Chapter 8

Pairing: Jason Todd x Fem!reader

Tag: @vbecker10 @wordsfromshona @harlequin-hangout @harpy-space @tild3ath @gone-batty-fics @princessbl0ss0m @dakotali

Warning: Epiphanies, violence, crime fighting, and staffing issues

Summary:

Everyone deserves time off, and the vigilantes of Gotham are no exception to the rule. The boys decide to take a weekend to let loose. Who knew a few drinks would lead to a stranger in bed?

Author Note:

Sorry about the delay, I wasn't sure on where to go with the story for some time, and health problems started popping up more and more. Things are still hectic, but hopefully manageable.

Personal matters aside, I hope you all continue to enjoy. Thank you for all your support always.

A big shout-out to my friend who is a manager of a facility much like Citlalli. How you handle the various incidents that you do with such grace is inspiring.

A huge thank you and shout out to @harlequin-hangout for the amazing banners you made for me.

If you’re new to the story, here is a link to the other parts:

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7

It was moments like these that reminded him of the benefits of wearing his red helmet. The contents of his head remained intact and inside his skull at all times..

  Holy shit, she was the barista at the counter! Red Hood quickly got back up onto his feet, bobbing to dodge a hook before grabbing the bigger guy's sleeve, yanking the guy forward to grab his head. A sickening crunch followed by a cry of pain was satisfaction to the vigilante’s ears. The lumbering giant fell to his knees, holding his face. “It wasn’t that bad,” he scoffed, waiting for his opponent to get back up. The clang of metal was all he heard before watching the crook fall face-first into the pavement. “Now that, that would be pretty bad.” He shrugged, looking up at Nightwing. “You know I had him, right?”

“Is that what you call being plowed into a brick wall? I swear, the lingo of the youth these days.” The elder Robin ran a gloved hand through his hair, looking down at the unconscious bodies littered around. “Two, four, I think that’s all of them.” He nudged his foot into the one on his right, watching the body roll over. 

“Looks like it. Now we just gotta wrap ‘em up and drop ‘em off for the cops.” Red Hood motioned towards the street with his head. “I guess today wasn’t a total waste.” He muttered, rubbing the back of his neck. Dammit, I can’t believe I didn’t notice it sooner! This could’ve all been nicely packed and solved, stupid, stupid, stupid! He berated himself as they dragged the culprits to one of the nearby working lamp posts, tying them up. Clearly finding some Jane Doe of Gotham was not as easy as he thought, especially when he looked right at her and failed to realize it. His pride as a detective was bruised to a point that he was not sure if it would ever be restored. No way in hell I’m telling Grayson about that, I’ll really never hear the end of it. He glared at the guy with the broken nose. Once again, he was grateful that he wore a red helmet instead of a domino mask. His red cheeks and peeved expression was hidden to all except for himself as the two wrapped up for the evening.

Y/N lay crumpled and slouched on the old sofa of their apartment, exhausted and defeated. How many weeks had it been since all this started? How many more were left? She had just paid the first installment of the bill, a glorious moment, until she saw the damage to her bank account.

Life’s not fair, I get it, but this is cruel and unusual! She sighed for the umpteenth time, sinking into the old cushions a little deeper. He had to have noticed her, there was no way her attempts at anonymity were successful. Not to mention, he literally caught me falling! Ah, then there’s the stroke of genius Cici had. Really, a victim of Joker laughing gas?  Now he’s really going to think I’m insane and refuse to pay! Then again, maybe he’ll pity me enough and actually pay? He did leave a sizable tip between the two of us. She forced herself to sit up straight and crossed her legs.

“No, get it together! You need to talk to him and explain the situation. I’m sure we can come to a reasonable conclusion through proper discourse! We’re both adults, and he clearly has a savior/hero complex because he did help me at the bar. I’m sure he can be reasoned with when he’s not inebriated or asking a billion questions.” She nodded to herself. “The real issue is how do I find him and prove I’m not some nut case?” Her pursed lips slid side to side as she tried to figure out a method to meet up with him again.

Citlalli had suggested she just turn up at Wayne manor or Wayne Enterprises. It was a tempting option, but with her luck, Y/N had a feeling she was going to be labeled as the new arm candy of the billionaire playboy and that was nothing but trouble. The last thing either of them needed was a horde of paparazzi hounding them or breaking into their rickety apartment and potentially breaking whatever they got their hands on.

Was Bruce Wayne handsome? Yes, there was no denying that. But handsome hardly scratched the “worth it” surface. Just look at where she was stuck now thanks to one of his adopted children. No, good looks did not make things worth it, like Citlalli always said. It only made matters worse. “And triple-y so when a Wayne was involved.” She muttered. “What if he never returns to the coffee shop? It’s been a whole month since then and nada!” She threw her hands up in frustration and slouched on the couch once more. “Doesn’t help that Arkham_Knight has been MIA, too! None of the quests are as fun without him. But he did say he’s going to be out of town or something about no gaming access. I wonder if kicking Wonder Boy’s butt is still on the table if he knew who he was.” It was so very tempting to just give in to the siren call, but she knew better than that. For starters, it would ruin the dynamic between the two of them and one or both of them would end up in jail for attacking a trust fund kid like him.

Her thoughts were broken by the clatter of her phone vibrating on the coffee table. Grabbing the device, she hit the green button on the outdated device. “Hey Cici, what’s up?”

“Hey chica, where are you right now?” 

“At the apartment, sprouting on the couch like a potato, why?”

“Can you help me out, pretty please?” Y/N could hear the batting of her lashes through the phone.

“Hmmm, I dunno, I do have a pretty tight schedule between germination, wallowing in my financial crater, and staring out into the darkness.” Y/N tucked the phone between her shoulder and ear as she made her way into the kitchen. “What’s up?”

“Oh, woe is you, so busy.” Citlalli scoffed. “Anyway, I really need your help! I just got word that Ryan had asked Stacy to cover his shift and she agreed. Neither of them confirmed that he would be taking up her shift today, and he's saying that he asked her but never agreed to pick up from her. Yes, it's stupid, and I’m going to have to sit these over privileged brats down and explain to them how swapping shifts work again. But, that's not the point! I need someone in today and I thought you may want to pick up some hours to save up faster. Are you able to?”

“Yeah, ok, I’ll head in. Thanks for the chance, I really appreciate it. You don’t worry your little curly head about this and just enjoy the weekend away with your family. Send me any open shifts, and I’ll cover where I can, cool?”

“Miha, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you so much!” Citllali quickly dissolved into heaps of praises and prayers in Spanish out of sheer relief before she finally hung up the call and texted the information.

Another Saturday night shift left unmanned because why would they honor the hours they said they'd work? Not like I can complain though, I’m hitting overtime now and that means more money for me to get these payments over with. She made her way down the narrow hallway to her bedroom, quickly getting changed into a simple black tee and jeans, with the café apron tucked away into her backpack as she locked up behind herself. 

The shift had started out busy, the store filled with students and professionals burning the night oil fueled by caffeine and pastries. But as the hours slowly ticked by, the number of in-store customers dwindled down alongside the drive-thru patrons. The moon was now up in place of the sun, and no one really dared to be out too late in this part of Gotham. Only the foolish and desperate, like herself, remained at work because the company insisted on a 24-hour shop to help spruce the town.

Did she want to be out here at night? No. Was being at home in the apartment alone any better? No. At least there was surveillance here. Any trouble that could happen would be recording, and she would be safe, sort of. Shrugging off self-preservation, Y/N began to sweep the floors to pass the time. It was better than standing at the counter waiting for no one to come in. It was another dead night, nothing serious was going to happen.

[pillarofna]

help me cover my medication because my doctor sent in the more expensive kind for no reason other than fucking me over <3

hi im dylan, 22 autistic trans mentally ill and chronically fatigued. i cant call the doctor’s office because theyre closed on weekends and i ran out of medicine, so i had to cave and spend $60 on the new meds. im really upset about this especially because the appointment cost me $200 and i do NOT have this kind of money right now. like i cant even afford my rent next month im fucked.

ive been on the capsules for over 3 years now but for some reason he sent in tablets which was an extra $40 that is literally pointless. i also never met my goal to cover the doctors office visit, i was able to cover the initial cost but it left my bank account virtually empty.

i raised $130 out of the $195 needed for the appointment, so plus the $60 of meds im making my new goal $130 to cover these costs.

pay pal click here. cash app and venmo are both diabolicshrimp

$0 / $130

[probably-flowers-and-cats]

math isn't mathing anymore

I've remembered that approximately only six months had passed since the Kudo's shrinkage event. I checked how many cases were solved by Conan (so, only those that were in Conan's life, not Shinichi's).

six months is 180 days (60×30)

according to the Conan's Wiki, Conan solved 291 cases (manga only; no idea when was the last update, but I will pick this number).

then 291÷180 = 1.61 case per day. 2 cases per day, we're taking whole numbers.

2 cases per day. 6 months. without any rest from murders, robbings, kidnappings. with a constant thought deep inside his mind that he and all he loves could be dead if he spills the beans. being stabbed, shot, poisoned, kicked out of the room, yelled at, ignored.

one tiny question.

damn, Kudo, are you alive there, eh? ARE YOU STILL SANE AFTER ALL? THERE'S THE NEXT SIX MONTHS PLANNED AHEAD FULL OF THE SAME SHIT.

you need freaking therapy, not dating Ran.

Ran also needs therapy.

all of them need THERAPY. GOSHO GIVE ALL OF THEM DAMN THERAPY AND UNLIMITED BANK ACCOUNT. TWO CASES PER DAY. HOLY DAMN CRAP. THEY WILL SPEND THE WHOLE LIFE JUST TELLING ABOUT THIS ONE YEAR TO THE SEVENTEENTH THERAPIST THEY WILL GET. BECAUSE OTHER SIXTEENTH WERE LITERALLY NEEDED THEIR OWN THERAPY.

[d0enti]

Imagine Akito with a reader he hated at first (and he wouldn’t hide it) but now would do absolutely everything for them

Like before:

Akito:get away from me!

After:

akito:Do you need something?oh that new phone that requires me to sell Ena because I’m too poor? Of course I’ll get it for you!

PJSEKAI—“Happiness is a warm puppy.”

➵Summary:Akito with reader he hated at first

➵Warning:none

➵A/N:I feel like I know who you are anon, but I won't say anything, anyway that was an amazing request I loved writing it

Oh how he hated you, how come you everywhere where he is?! He could be walking in the park and then he sees you, even when having practice he will see you, was he cursed or something he didn't do anything wrong for it to be that case, unless we count the fact that he told Ena her hair looks crispy, but that doesn't matter what matters is how come you everywhere, it's getting annoying seeing you literally every time, why does he have a see your cute ugly face?!

Akito was thinking about all that while walking in the park, but suddenly a dog appeared and Akito just stood there, hoping the dog won't go towards him and he was incorrect, the dog indeed ran towards him and they were running around till suddenly the dog was stopped, Akito looked who it was and saw you, standing on the dog leash while it's owner thanks you for catching the dog and walks away, and for a moment Akito blushed a little before becoming just as angry as anger from inside out

"couldn't you catch that damn dog earlier?!"

"I was waiting until it got tried"

"by sacrificing me?!"

"yeah, you are quite fast so a perfect sacrifice in my opinion"

"I fucking hate you, can't you just leave me alone"

"I know you hate me, you said it 30 times this month, and we didn't even pass the 20th day of it, plus I'm not following you! It's not my fault we see each other often"

"then how the hell do I see you everyday?!"

"maybe because I live in the area?"

"..."

"...You didn't think about that did you?"

"shush"

Well Akito indeed didn't think about that, damn he feels stupid, so he was hating you for no reason, I mean yeah seeing you everyday, but you lived in the area that's why he was seeing you everyday

"anyway I should get going, bye"

"bye..."

Shit why is he blushing, don't tell me he fell for you, just randomly?! No there's just no way that happened

୨⎯ "Time skip" ⎯୧

Akito from 3 weeks ago would be pissed now probably, Akito was walking around with you after the incident with the dog, you became good friends or more of, he became crazy in love buying anything you ask for, causing Ena to worry about Akito bank account, does he have anything left?! Well it's healthy to assume no because yesterday Akito literally asked her for 50 dollars

"why do you need it"

"[Y/N] phone broke and they need a new one, so I need 50 dollars to buy it"

"can't you use your money?"

"I am, I just need 50 dollars to buy it counting mine too"

"Jesus Akito you became a simp, but fine, just give me a minute"

And that kept going, eventually Akito got a part time job to buy you stuff, and even there was a point when he thought, selling Ena might help, I mean she's pretty so, but then again that's his sister, yeah that's out of the book, Ena would probably kill him

In less than a week from Akito taking Ena money, again she cussed him out saying he needs to stop bitching around and confess, but he won't do it willingly, so Ena hid all his money and forced him to confess!

And while you were walking back home, Akito asked you out, surprised you agreed, and Ena was surprised too. But hey it was fun watching her brother be a boy failure

[adoptayansavealife]

(Broke) Yandere Profile: Introduction　

Jebediah

TW: stalking, violence

Yandere Type

Mental Clarity: Lucid

Jebediah is completely aware of your flaws. He sees them clearly and loves them all the same. He doesn't think of you as some kind of god or higher being. He very much sees you as an equal. Although this does have its limitations, especially when it comes to matters of intelligence or what he thinks is good for you.

As he isn't completely delusional, Jebediah is aware that his actions are possibly maybe a tad bit morally wrong and also illegal. However, legality does little to deter him. He just knows that if he doesn't get caught, he'll be fine.

He also knows that the police rarely take stalking allegations seriously without proof and he will absolutely use that to his advantage.

Method: Stalking

Jebediah full on quit his internship so that he could... check on you more. He's not delusional - he knows you're not really in danger or need his protection. No, he does it because he just likes, well, watching you. At work. At the grocery store. At the gym. And making sure other men don't get close to you.

He literally follows you everywhere in his beater car. Much to his chagrin, his car is not only very old and clunky, but also very loud. It is the opposite of sneaky and also super lame in his opinion. He will try to hide his car from you out of shame.

He hid a tracking device under the seat of your car and in the seams of your favorite backpack/purse/fanny pack. Also, in your phone, just because it was fairly easy to do.

Jebediah actually did this very soon after meeting you for the first time.

It took him a little longer to take the step to install cameras in your house when you weren't home and tap into the security camera systems at your work. A few weeks maybe. He's definitely the fall hard and fast type.

Trait: Broke

Now, let's be honest here, hidden cameras and tracking devices are NOT cheap.

He actually had a nice-ish car originally. However, he was following you home one day and you slammed on your brakes to avoid hitting a deer and he would rather die than hit and potentially kill you, so he swerved off the road and totaled his car.

Jebediah thought it was really sweet when you ran off the road to where his car had crashed to make sure he was okay. However, Jebediah refused to have you two 'officially' meet like that. After all, that would make him look 1) desperate and 2) like a horrible driver. So, after crashing into the ditch and miraculously not suffering any injuries, he knew he just had to book it before his benevolent darling began frantically searching for him. He waited for the cops to tell you to leave before coming out and telling the officers that he thought the car was going to blow up and ran to safety.

However, he quickly realized that the cost to repair his car was wayyy out of his budget. He didn't have an income coming in anymore and he was burning through savings. Those cameras and trackers were expensive after all, and his bank account was paying the price (literally). Moreso, because he followed you so much, he pretty much had to decide between takeout and starving.

Also, it didn't help that he was paying your rent. He just told the landlord that he was an uncle of yours who was taking care of his favorite niece, which worked somehow.

So, he found a lemon car on Craigslist for like 1200 dollars. The seat belt doesn't work, there are no airbags, the passenger window only rolls up 3/4 of the way, and the speedometer's stuck at 40 mph.

He barely keeps it running with pure willpower.

Jebediah's house isn't much better. It's really just a single room he's renting in a communal house that he shares with like five other dudes. A total bachelor pad is absolutely not the kind of place he wants you to know he lives in.

His room consists of a mini fridge, a single dining chair, an air mattress, two blankets, and a deflated pillow. Oh yeah, and a lot of pictures of you that he's stuck on the walls. He's that kind of yandere.

Trait: Voyeur

At first, Jebediah was content with discreetly watching you through cameras and windows. But, as time passed, he began getting...restless.

He's very careful - he knows you're smart. So, he sticks to only sneaking in your house when you're asleep or away.

It's almost depressingly easy to slip in through an open window that you forgot to lock.

At first, Jebediah was ashamed. It was one thing to watch you through cameras, but in person was another thing entirely. But you, you were just too intoxicating to resist. The smell of your clothes and your room, and the way your chest rises and falls so softly. The way you twitch as you dream; it was addicting to watch you sleep. He couldn't look away.

You were just so delicate, so... Vulnerable. You were stupid to leave the window open. Don't you understand how easily someone could slip in and take advantage of you??? You're lucky he's here every night to make sure that doesn't happen. You should honestly be grateful.

Jebediah likes to... check on the house while you're at work. He's got to make sure the cameras are working. And steal your underwear clothes.

It was an impulse the first time, but now it's a routine. After all, he only takes clothes that are already dirty. You never notice them missing from the laundry hamper. And he washes them for you he can barely afford the laundromat btw, because he's a considerate man.

Recently, while you were at work and he was roaming around your apartment, he actually found out that you have an attic. You never use it because it creeps you out and so, it's gone untouched.

Sure, they're spiders and cobwebs but it's pretty much an upgrade from his room. And if he moved in, he wouldn't have to worry about sneaking in anymore or paying rent. I mean he's already paying your rent, so it's practically his place too!

But Jebediah isn't desperate enough to take that step yet. Living in your attic would be pretty much one of the creepiest things he could do, and he is very aware of that. So, he refrains. For now.

Trait: Image-Conscious

As you've probably grasped, Jebediah is very aware and concerned with what his darling thinks of him.

He doesn't show it. He's a very confident person besides matters relating to you and doesn't really care what people think of him. He's satisfied with his intelligence and looks.

However, with you, it's different. He's obsessed with officially meeting you in the most perfect way possible. He wants to make the best impression, so you immediately like him. As such, he's compiling all your likes and dislikes. He's not the kind to change himself for a darling, but he will try to emphasize the likable aspects of himself as much as possible and minimize any flaws he has.

His car, living conditions, and general economic status are all a source of shame for him. In a way, he's very delusional about this. It doesn't matter to him if you are also broke, he's obsessed with the idea of being the ideal man and in his mind, that means he has to have money.

Jebediah knows he could make a lot of money with a job as an electrical engineer, but the thought of leaving you alone, the thought of you meeting someone else makes such a career impossible.

Jealousy Level (6/10)

Jebediah has never been the jealous type. He's had a few partners in the past, but they were never anything more serious than a few dates and a kiss or two. It wasn't that he didn't have people interested in him, he just lacked much of an interest in romance. Until you.

Most yanderes are jealous to a point, and Jebediah is no different.

However, as a lucid yandere, Jebediah isn't fully blinded by jealousy. He is able to recognize who is a threat to your relationship and who isn't. As such, the times he'll act on jealousy are when he actually thinks the man stands a shot. Or when he's feeling insecure. Then his emotions get the best of him, and he'll act irrationally.

Jebediah doesn't mind when you hang out with your friends. He's' glad you have friends that care about you and he enjoys seeing you have fun. Naturally, he'd prefer if you hung out with him, but you haven't met him yet, so he understands that. If they're bad friends however, that's another story.

If a man talks to you, he won't lose his mind and throw him off a cliff. But if a man were to start showing interest in you, much less consider asking you out - then he'd definitely get involved.

Violence Level (6/10)

Take George for instance. He was interested in you, but never had the courage to ask you on a date. George was an average guy with average looks and average intelligence and an average amount of money. Jebediah knew that you'd never date George and that George would never ask you out. So, Jebediah just taught him a lesson and went on his way.

However, Jessie, the egotistical 'playboy' of the friend group who asked you out for coffee - yeah, he needed to die. So, he dragged him behind his car for a mile. He's a careful man of course, so he picked a forest service road where no one would hear him scream.

Everyone say thank you to @22yroldicon for Jebediah's name!

This ended up being really long but oh well what can you do

[b0nten]

LOVERS’ ZENITH

[SYNOPSIS] ˚⁀➷｡ dating bonten ran — the shitshow p2.

[NOTES] ˚⁀➷｡ me not rlly knowing exactly what they do in bonten

lets get this shit STARTED

imma start off by saying this: i personally think that bonten ran isn’t necessarily one that looks to settle down, ESPECIALLY if he’s entered bonten being single. only through some incredible and otherworldly force and the biggest deus ex machina will he agree to date someone in his ‘bonten era’

if you’ve been together since, lets say, highschool (or like when he got out of jail) tho… that’s a completely different story

therefore, we’re going with the premises that you’ve been dating since dinosaurs have roamed the earth

this man (like always) has no chill around you — he’s still the little high schooler that loves to show you off relentlessly, literally his favorite hobby, and to annoy you when it’s just the two of you

dumb jokes, or putting things somewhere only he can reach (with that tyrannosaurus rex height of his i’m just gonna assume you’re shorter than him), EVERYTHING he does is just to annoy you

it’s soooooooooooooooooooo worth it tho, because at the end of the day when he comes home and clings onto you like the chewing gum clings to the back of violet’s ears it amuses you and makes you the happiest person on earth

like this lanky ass motherfucker that goes around beating people and waving guns into the air is so soft and mushy when it comes to you 🥹

oh and you also better believe me that he’s making you stay at home. when he said he’s gonna provide, he really took that seriously

and also believe me that he’s wifed you up ⬆️ the second he got the chance to. like he loves you so much he doesn’t want to waste a SECOND and marries you instantly. boom. small, elegant wedding with you, rindou, kaku and the other bonten executives. just what you guys need.

makes sure your (his) bank accounts and credit cards are always filled to the brim, insists that you go shopping every day of the week, 23/7 (the remaining one hour is for him to spend with you)

but if you want to work, that’s also no problem. same with graduate school! he’ll pay for your college (technically you guys share the income so you’re also basically paying by yourself!) and supports you NON STOP. LIKE HE’S YOUR BIGGEST HYPE MAN FRFR. IS SO EXCITED AT YOUR GRADUATION AND FORCES RINDOU TO TAKE PICTURES OF YOU GUYS ALL THE TIME. BRAGS ON SOCIAL MEDIA ABOUT YOUR ACHIEVEMENT, HE REALLY IS THE PROUDEST.

if you want to start a business he’ll also help you with hiring and finding an accountant etc, he’s there for you every step of the way and lets you know all the damn time. if you want to do it more independently pop off, he’s 100% for that.

love language is gift giving — is away in a lot of meetings and whatever the hell they do in bonten anyways so he always send you flowers or purses or shoes or buys you a puppy so you don’t get too lonely. literally showers you with gifts.

date nights are also fancy but lowkey, meaning he’s taking you to top restaurants but so exclusive that that they aren’t even full or anything. either that or he hires a personal chef and has him cook you guys a 5 course meal.

he literally loves you so hard and is the biggest simp EVERRRRRRRRRR

also, whenever you massage his scalp he falls asleep just like a baby and you have countless selfies of him passed out after stroking his hair

[unhappycylinder]

Gonna Be Trouble (Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Fem!Reader) Pt. 8

wc: 3.3k

Warnings: Jake being an idiot, cursing, Gabby and Rooster being adorable,

Series Masterlist

“Gabby I just don’t know what to do,” you sobbed into the phone, “I know he said that stuff to push me away, I know it's not how he really feels, but what kind of person can say that to someone they love? He probably doesn’t even love me…”

“Y/n don’t say that,” Gabby’s comforting voice brought more tears to your eyes, “you know he loves you, we all do, but you gotta remember its Hangman we’re talking about. He doesn’t know how to love someone this much. He’s from Texas, he doesn’t know how to have feelings.”

You laughed, wiping away your tears that had pooled in the crease of your nose, “very fair.”

“I’m so sorry he did this…” Gabby stuttered, “I have no idea why. We talked to him just the same day he called you, like literally hours before, and he told Rooster that he believed in you guys…”

That only made you sob harder, “then which one is it?” You coughed, the emotions overloading you to the point you thought you might throw up.

“Sweetheart oh my god,” Gabby’s heart broke for you, and her blood ran cold thinking of Hangman and how he could hurt you like this, “I don’t think you should be alone right now”

“There’s nothing I can do about that Gabby. It’s a long weekend, I have no friends here who know anything about my personal life, I have no money to go anywhere, I’m stuck,” you ranted to her.

“Alright then I’m flying you down”

“What?” You squeaked, “Gabby you’re not doing that”

“Yeah I am,” she pulled out a computer and started typing, you just stared at her dumbfounded over the phone, “send me your TSA number honey, we’re getting you out of there”

“Gabby,” you ran your hands over your forehead, “a flight to San Diego would be like $400 this last minute, it's ridiculous. I’ll be fine, I’m not-”

“Y/n just hush. You’re my best friend, you need support, and I need to see you. Plus, my husband’s in the military, I get flight discounts, and I have access to his credit card and he’s gonna be away at sea so who’s gonna know”

“You’ve got this deployment thing down don’t you,” you laughed at her

“We’ve only been married a few months but I’ve been with this idiot for years, and not once has he questioned why thousands of dollars leave his bank account every time he goes away. Honestly I don’t think he’s smart enough to remember how much money he had before he left…” She rambled while she booked your flight, “Can you be at the airport at 6 tomorrow? Direct flight to San Diego at 8:30…Roo and I can pick you up?”

“Gabby, I mean this sincerely, I don’t know what I’d do without you,” you smiled at her,

“Suffer…probably,” she giggled, making you laugh too.

“Thank you Gabby, you’re the best”

“I know I am,” she flipped her hair, “anyway I gotta go soak up some Rooster time before he leaves for forever…”

You giggled, “I don’t want to know details…I’ll see you tomorrow, love you!”

“Love you more, go get some sleep, and don’t forget about your flight please!”

You blew her a kiss before hanging up. Luckily, the emotions from Jake’s phone call had drained you for the day, and you fell asleep pretty easily after the talk with Gabby. After all, you had a flight to catch in the morning.

—

“You better give me a big hug right now,” Gabby said as she walked towards you, arms wide open, as you exited the airport and the warm California air hit your face. Your lip quivered at the sight of your best friend, your tired arm threatening to drop your duffel bag as you embraced her and let your tears flow.

“You’re okay sweetie, you’re here now,” Gabby comforted you as she ran her fingers through your hair

“You have no idea how much this means to me,” you sobbed out, “I’m so happy to be here”

“Awww, I know,” she pulled away and grabbed your face, the widest smile across hers.

“Ladies, this is cute and all,” Rooster yelled from the car, “but this is 5 minute parking and this pilot isn’t looking to get banned from the airport anytime soon…”

“Oh calm down pendejo,” Gabby grabbed your bag from you and threw it into the trunk of the car. 

Sliding into the back seat of the car, you caught Rooster’s apologetic gaze through the rear view mirror, the sorrow in his eyes nearly making you break down again.

“Still haven’t heard anything from Hangman?” He asked, the bronco slowly moving out of the line of cars waiting to pick up passengers.

“Ay!” Gabby exclaimed, slapping the back of his head.

“What?” Rooster threw a hand up in defense, hunching over the steering wheel to avoid his wife’s swing.

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” Gabby hissed before turning around to face you, “I’m sorry honey, Mexico did a number on his brain apparently,” she joked as she muttered curses in Spanish to herself. Gabby and Rooster had just returned from a short but sweet honeymoon in Mexico, of which you heard many….maybe too many…intimate tales.

“It’s okay,” you sighed, “um I haven’t heard from him.”

Gabby and Rooster shared a knowing glance.

“Not to keep making you guys play middleman but…have you heard anything?”

“Um…” they both said in unison while staring at each other.

“You can tell me, guys, I’m pretty sure I’d rather know than not.”

Rooster sighed before turning to his wife, who then turned back around to face you.

“I wasn’t gonna tell you this cause I didn’t want you to get anxious,”

Too late, you thought to yourself.

“Jake knows you’re here…”

“Oh?” You felt a punch in your gut, the feeling of anxiety creeping into your throat as Gabby watched you process, “does he-”

“It doesn’t matter what he wants,” Gabby placed her hand on your knee, “you’re here to relax, not appease him. We’ll answer any questions you have of course, but I want you to spend this weekend how you want to, no matter what, okay?”

You sighed, questions and concerns filling your mind, “Okay,” you shook your head. Relaxing was probably the last thing you could do right now.

—

“I think I need to see him,” you muttered as Gabby helped you put your toiletries away in the guest bathroom.

Gabby sighed, “okay, whatever you want, but do you really think that’s a good idea?”

“I don’t know, is it? Did he say anything about wanting to see me?” You reclined against the bathroom counter, arms folding across your chest.

“Of course he did, Y/n, he feels like shit for breaking up with you, I know he regrets it. Rooster said his flying’s been off the past couple days, says he’s been extra dangerous, whatever that means.”

“Shit,” you panicked at the thought of him burning in, “yeah I need to talk to him”

“I’ll call him then, let him know to come by?” Gabby asked, waiting for you to decide where you wanted to meet him.

“I think I’ll just walk to his place,” you said mindlessly.

“Babe that's like a mile from here, why would you do that?”

“Give myself time to think of what to say? Time to abort the mission?” You sighed, leaving the bathroom to begin your pilgrimage to Jake’s.

“Alright, well, let me know if you need us to pick you up. I love you!”

“Love you too, wish me luck,” you yelled from the stairwell before departing.

—

Hovering your fist over Jake’s door, reality finally hit and anxiety flooded your body as you contemplated what the hell you were doing at Jake’s door three days before he deployed. 

“Y/n what the fuck?” You whispered, fist returning to your side as you promptly marched down his driveway, praying he hadn’t noticed you there.

He had.

“Y/n?” A groggy voice muttered from behind you, the Texan drawl of the man you loved barely identifiable over your own whispers. Stopping dead in your tracks, the anxiety bubbled up once again and this time threatened tears from your eyes. With a deep breath you turned around to see him.

Jake stood shirtless in his doorway, grey sweatpants clinging to his hips, his hair spiked and disheveled. The home behind him was dark, no blinds open to let in the midday sun of San Diego, and likely no ventilation for the better part of the last couple days. His eyes blinked rapidly as he adjusted to the light, the hand not clasping the doorknob shielding his green orbs as he trailed up your figure.

“Hey,” you croaked, tears beginning to slowly track your cheekbones. You didn’t move at all, you stood static on his driveway, arms crossed in front of you in a shallow attempt to comfort yourself.

“Come in baby,” he said groggily, breaking your heart to hear him call you such a loving nickname in such a tender way. The tears grew more frequent as you shook your head and walked towards him, arms still crossed until you reached the doorway and stood mere inches from him. 

He was impossible to read, but the one emotion you could identify was sympathy. Even Hangman, the hard-to-crack fighter pilot with confirmed kills, couldn’t stand to watch the woman who owned his heart stand in front of him shaking with sadness that he caused. You reached up to wipe away your tears, closing your eyes briefly, and just then you felt his strong arms around you. Jake pulled you close, nuzzling his face into your neck and stroking your back with his strong hands.

“I’m so sorry, Y/n, I’m so sorry baby,” he whispered into your hair. You cried harder, eliciting a grunt and sigh from him as the consequences of his actions finally caught up with his emotions.

“The things I said to you were-” he lifted up his head and stared upwards, searching for words, you remained nestled into his chest as you cried, “they were appalling. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything after Rooster told me you were here, I should have tried to see you. I just didn’t know what you’d want…”

“Jake-” you cut him off, peeling yourself off his bare chest to gaze into his eyes which were now also brimming with tears, “we need to talk about this stuff”

He nodded. You needed answers, he needed reassurance, talking was the only thing you could do. He let go of you and welcomed you into the house. Just as you had expected, he hadn’t opened a single window in the whole home, the air stagnant and dark, and the smell of dirty dishes beginning to creep through the building. You walked over to his couch, sitting down on the warm fabric that had obviously been the host of his body for the past couple days. He sat next to you, knees barely grazing yours as you sat in silence for a brief moment.

“Jake, do you remember what you told me on the beach at the beginning of the summer?”

“That I loved you?”

The past tense stung.“No, the part about you burning in, about what Phoenix was saying about you being safer…”

“Oh,” he glanced downwards, “yeah I do”

“Jake, you told me that you were flying safe because you were scared of losing me, that you were scared you’d miss out on our life, on our memories. You told me you wanted to see where we end up, and that our love motivated you to be a better pilot,” you fiddled with his fingers as you spoke, “and Rooster told me you haven’t been flying safe lately,” your throat choking up the more you thought of him being careless, “and I just don’t get why,” you finally sobbed.

The sound of your voice breaking finally brought Jake’s attention to you, concern and pity filling his eyes as he watched you struggle to explain yourself.

“I don’t get why you push me away. I don’t get why you tell me one thing and then do another. I don’t get why you put yourself in danger for no reason, why you put your career and your life on the line….to what? To prove some point?” Tears pooled on your cheeks while your eyes searched the room for some semblance of comfort. “The things you said when you broke up with me hurt, they hurt me to my core, but the thought of you throwing your life away out of spite hurts even more.”

Jake was speechless, his green eyes glassy under scrunched eyebrows as he finally felt the pain you had been enduring because of him.

“The life I want is the life I share with you. And I went into this relationship knowing distance and deployment and all that shit would be a factor. You did too. I’m prepared to go through anything for you…because I want those memories, Jake. I want to hold you and kiss you and dream of you while you’re gone. I want to move into your stupidly undecorated house on base when I graduate and be here for you every night when you come home,” you gestured to his bare walls, eliciting a small chuckle and nod from the hard-to-crack military man who had tears dropping from his eyes.

“God Jake the love I feel for you is endless. I gave you my heart, I gave you myself, don’t give those things back to me.” You stopped talking, the emotions overwhelming you to the point where you removed your hand from his and tucked your knees up in front of you, bundling yourself into a ball while Jake processed everything you said.

“I think…” he began, his eyes searching every part of the room except where you were, “I think we should take some time to think about all this,” he slowed down as he said the last few words.

Your tears dried up, shock overtaking the sadness. You didn’t expect this, you didn’t expect him to mean the things he said, to mean that he didn’t want to be with you.

“So you meant it?” You questioned, eyes finally meeting his.

“What?” He asked quietly

“You meant the things you said. The things about us? About me?”

“No, Y/n. I’m sorry for the things I said to you. They were hurtful and wrong and downright disrespectful. You’re a sweetheart and I’m sorry. I just mean I don’t think it's smart for us to jump into things right now, not with my deployment and your school.”

“What are you saying,” you cut him off.

“I think maybe we should just wait to date or something, til I’m back…”

“Jake,” your voice cracked, “I can’t do that,” you sobbed.

“You don’t think it's a good idea?” He asked earnestly.

“I’m gonna be waiting for you either way. I’d rather be waiting as your girlfriend than just some girl who's heartbroken and doesn’t even know if the man she loves loves her back.”

“You’re not some girl, Y/n, you’re my girl,” he rubbed your arm.

Shrugging him off as the confusion overwhelmed you, “no I’m not Jake. You broke up with me, you told me we should wait. Those don’t exactly go hand in hand with being ‘your girl,” you stood up to leave, he stared at you bewildered, “I’m leaving. You need to make up your mind, I’m tired of being confused about how you feel about me.”

You walked through the dark house to his door, opening it and letting the harsh California light hit the living room where he still sat on the couch, eyes never leaving your frame. 

“Good luck on your deployment, Jake,” and with that you took one last look at him and left the house, closing the door behind him. As you walked away, you held out for the possibility that he would open the door and come running out with an apology. But he didn’t. You walked the whole way back to Gabby’s without a word…without an ounce of clarity…just confusion like you had never felt before.

—

The remainder of the weekend went by without a word from Jake. Occasional glances from Rooster after he got a text or got off the phone let you know that, per usual, you were the only person out of the loop when it came to your relationship issues. Nevertheless, going through this breakup without Gabby would have been impossible, and her support meant the world to you.

Monday came around and it was time for the pilots to leave. The debate of whether or not to go had lived in the back of your mind for the better part of the weekend, eating away at you when you tried to close your eyes. Ultimately, after lots and lots of thinking, you had decided not to go for multiple reasons. For one, it gave Gabby and Rooster time alone during a special moment…and it also gave you the upper hand over Hangman. Despite what he told you, you knew Jake, and you knew he’d expect you to be there to wave him off. 

“You sure you don’t want to come, honey?” Rooster asked you as he walked by the couch where you reclined in their living room, dressed in his flight suit.

“Yeah I’m sure,” you sighed, sitting up to face him. “I know he’s gonna expect me to be there. And I want to be there for him…but I can’t let myself keep getting hurt. I can’t let him know that he can keep hurting me and I’ll come crawling back…”

“You know, as much as I love Jake, and as long as I’ve known him,” Rooster began, “I think you’re doing the right thing. You’re showing him you’re prioritizing yourself, which is important. He’s an asshole, he needs to be put in his place.”

“He is an asshole isn’t he,” you and Rooster laughed together.

“Alright honey,” Rooster ruffled your hair, the nickname he always called you by making you smile, “I’m outta here. I’ll keep my lips sealed to Jake for a bit, but you know how to reach me if you want me to tell him anything, okay?”

He grabbed his bags, “or if you just want to chat, I’d like that too.”

“Bradley!” Gabby’s piercing voice ran out from upstairs, “we’re gonna be late if you don’t hurry the fuck up!”

“Down here, baby!” He yelled back.

Gabby came running downstairs, “You’re ready before me?” She asked out of breath.

“Yeah?” Rooster said sassily, “why are you so shocked by that?”

You giggled at the couple, making Gabby sneer at you.

“Don’t you dare laugh with him,” she pointed at you, making you and Rooster laugh harder. She sighed before walking down and embracing her husband.

“You can’t wear this flight suit in the home, Brashdaw, otherwise you’ll be late to everything…” she flirted before kissing him, his hands gripping her hips.

“I love you, Gabby,” he kissed her again.

“Y'all are gonna make me throw up, go get on a boat or something Roo,” you pretended to gag as you got up from the couch.

“Bye Y/n,” Rooster said, letting go of Gabby briefly to give you a hug and kiss on the forehead, “don’t be a stranger”

“Back at ya.” you gave him a smile, “don’t like die or anything….Gabby would kill you”

Your friend laughed, giving you a brief nudge before opening the front door for Rooster. She shot you a quick wink before closing the door behind her, the sound of the bronco starting not long after. 

And with that, you sat back down on the couch, left with your own thoughts and the slightest feeling of regret and worry beginning…what if you never got to say goodbye?

--

Taglist: @dempy @shanimallina87 @luckyladycreator2 @mightiestheroes @taytaylala12 @djs8891 @clancycucumber230

[bl00dngh0uls]

I decided to start posting OC shit even though I’m still at work HHH , too excited

This is !! Ikeda Noboru! 🖤

December 29th, he’ll be turning 40!🎉 so he’s a Capricorn~

He lives in a house in Hakone, Japan, commuting daily by Shinkansen to Shinjuku, Japan where he works as the CEO of a bank~

That’s his day job, anyways…

Unfortunately, he was born into the Yakuza

So,, smuggles drugs & guns in, and out of Japan. His mother, Allison, who was American, tried to get them both passports to flee the country when Ikeda was 7 years old after realizing what his father did for a living. His father’s name is Kenji Noboru. I say ‘was’, because, she’s dead now. Yep, Kenji killed her for trying to run off with their son.

She was under the impression he was just a businessman.. Kenji was in America when they first met, and only being 18 at the time, Allison happily ran away to Japan with the ‘love of her life.’

Kenji being gone for long periods of time seemed appropriate, seeing as how she thought he was a traveling businessperson.

Well, shortly after giving birth to Ikeda, (literally within the year after moving to Japan with this man) she started to notice little things. Kenji speaking on the phone privately in his office quite often. He had several different bank accounts, in a few different countries that she wasn’t allowed to look at. He could never tell her what he was doing while he was away, and started to get angry with her for asking.

And then, yaknow, he started being a bit more obvious. Leaving guns out around the house after coming home in the dead of night. Which in Japan, owning a gun as just a civilian is very much illegal. He got arrested!! And was released within the week.

Once he couldn’t easily hide it, Kenji came clean. It was apparent that he was planning on bringing their son into the business, trying to teach him hard lessons at a very young age. Often times with physical discipline.

His violent outbursts towards both Allison and Ikeda became too much, and she confided in another wife of a Yakuza member. Together, they worked to get passports, and began quiet preparations to flee to the US.

Unfortunately, this would never come to fruition, their plot being found out when the flight confirmations appeared in their husbands emails. They were both murdered for their betrayal, and Ikeda was left in the sole custody of his father.

So, some 30 years later, this half Japanese, half American man, lives alone in a big house, completely denying himself any close relationships because of what he saw happen to his mother. ((She was shot down in front of him, pleading with Kenji not to hurt their son))

He’s an ass hole of a boss, who constantly harasses his newly employed Secretaries, absolutely hating having to work with others. His hopes of that he’ll be terrible enough for them to quit within their first week. To get any respect being just half Japanese in the work place, he found that being friendly was out of the question.

That is, of course, until Charlie Bakersfield got hired to be his secretary. His father is a travel agent, currently living and working in Japan, originally from America. He put in a good word for his son, helping him to get employed at the same bank branch he worked with…

No amount of strife he tries to cause for the younger man seems to shake him.

This is mine and @cinder-stars rp, #holidaybonus

WAAAHOOOO first OC dump✨

[caesthoffe]

Remembering and Fighting for Eden Knight

TW // Suicide, Transphobia, Forced Detransition

Eden Knight was a Saudi Arabic trans woman living in the United States, who on the morning of March 12th 2023, was discovered to have died by suicide after a twitlonger (which, upon reading, proved itself to be a suicide note) was posted to her Twitter account.

Her suicide note goes into detail, and explains the driving force behind her death. The manipulation by three people who lied to and betrayed the trust of Eden in order to force her into de-transitioning, all led by her influential religious conservative family.

Whether they want to admit it or not, they succeeded in what they did. As of March 13th 2023, her death has been confirmed.

(Note: This screenshot redacts her deadname, the original tweet both misgenders and deadnames Eden)

Eden gives the names of the people involved in, what is essentially her murder, so I will explain who they are and what they did to her.

Michael Pocalyko

Michael Pocalyko is the CEO of a company called “Special Investigations Limited." A business that claims they do “cyber security”, and “investigations."

Not only does Michael own this company, but he has also ran as a republican political candidate before, has sat on the boards of pharmaceutical companies, is tied to investment banking and equity firms, JP Morgan, as well as the Heritage Foundation.

He contacted Eden through one of her in-real-life friends, a self-proclaimed "fixer" who told Eden he could help mend her and her family's broken relationship. Michael, and his associate Ellen Cole, introduced Eden to (alleged) Saudi Arabian lawyer Bader Alomair.

Bader Alomair

Not much is known about Bader Alomairs background, but we do know his role with Eden. Bader told Eden he was a lawyer and got her an apartment in Washington D.C. He began to take care of her financially; Eden realized he was grooming her into de-transitioning, living in the closet, and she was now an illegal immigrant (her international scholarship, which she'd been using to go to school in America, had expired which meant she could be deported) who was financially dependent on him. Feeling she had no other option she caved to his demands and changed her physical appearance, along with discontinuing her hormone therapy. She even met with her father and got back into contact with her mother. At this point Michael and Ellen had ceased all communication with her, she had an emotional breakdown and “repented," as Bader booked her a flight to Saudi Arabia.

Final Notes and Thoughts

Eden Knight was failed by so many fucking people. Failed by her transphobic family who literally drove her to death because of their bigotry. Failed by the two American investigators who cared more about money than this poor girls life. Failed by the U.S. immigration system which should've provided her asylum and support.

Eden was a beloved member of the trans community. People knew her as a sharp, witty, thoughtful person who wanted to make the world a better place. She said,

"I hope that the world gets better for us. I hope our people get old. I hope we get to see our kids grow up to fight for us. I hope for trans rights world wide."

It's been eight years since Leelah Alcorn died by suicide, isn't it fucked how we're still fighting for the same things?

Eden deserved to be happy. All of us do.

[ashleywool]

put twenty dollars on today's lottery

Sooooo remember 11 days ago when I shared my intrusive thoughts about feeling like I need to apologize to Broadway people every time I privately freak out over remembering that some of them vaguely know who I am, and--just for literature's sake--I used Lin-Manuel Miranda as an example?

...well, wouldn't ya know it...

Guess who I ran into at the Drama Book Shop LITERALLY TODAY (apparently it was launch day for his dad's new book) and immediately greeted me with "HIIIIII ASHLEY, SO GOOD TO SEE YOU AGAIN, what are you reading? Hey, do you know when we're going to be able to stock the Ohio score?"

(I did not know the answer, but I texted Jacob to ask him and he informed me that Hal-Leonard was already working on the piano/vocal arrangements, so...it's gonna happen.)

Anyway, if you need me, I'll be six feet underground in full rigor mortis for the rest of the day.

edited to add real quick, while we're on the subject of excellent things with Puerto Rican origins: the rum-infused cold brew from 787 Coffee is the latest threat to my bank account...unbelievably next-level delicious.

[the-hubworldian-chronicles]

P-Pan 374277: The first human citizen of Roboken.

Mild gore

(Also it takes a while to get to the Sonic part (sorry StH fans)

Peter was born to Aria and Officer Gerald Millwick in 2005 and spent his first seventeen years in Moorsville, Alabama (not to be confused with Mooresville, literally everywhere USA) which was horribly named as it’s a hamlet of approximately 87 people in the middle of the woods.

At the age of three, or maybe he was four, Peter found a girl in an alley behind his house. He managed to drag the poor creature to the front, though she appeared to be twice his age. His house wasn’t big enough for another full time child and in such a small community it was clear she didn’t belong to anyone, though in such a small community it was also known the Bakers had been trying for a long while. After a good, long bath and borrowing someone else’s clothes they asked her a few questions. She didn’t say a word but had reached for the papers and pencil. When they asked her name she only slapped the paper she had written and drawn on, they called her Page Baker from then on.

The two were good friends, often staying over the other’s when they could afford it, no one bothered to lock their doors and it was only the neighbours’. One night they watched Peter Pan (1953) which set in stone “Peter Pan” and “Tigerlily” as nicknames. They frequently played among the boughs of a willow that sat on the bank of a river that ran around the tiny neighbourhood.

During a day they had encountered two figures, man and woman too tall for him to notice and by the time he could crane his head, his eyes were being covered and lead back home, where he told them what they saw as his friend hurried to depict the event on paper. The pair were commended for their creativity and exhilarating storytelling.

It was a week after this that Peter Pan’s life went downhill. After finding nothing of Page but her “Red Indian style” necklace he ran home to find his parents mauled open and strewn about the living room floor, he ran to the Bakers finding the couple with the same fate. But Page wasn’t there. This pattern continued for five houses. Whoever did this didn’t want witnesses.

When his father’s colleagues arrived, they took him to the station for questioning. They didn’t think he did it - why would they? But that’s what the voices told him. He was told to run and so he did. He ran all the way home, ducked under the crime tape and dug around the drawers of the office, the kitchen, and his bedroom. By the time they caught up he was gone. Out of the seventeen coffins they buried, only two were empty.

Since then, every now and again someone else will be broken into and killed in their own house. But some survivors note how they saw the young boy carrying a wooden stick when going to get a midnight snack.

As time went on, he found that the masked and hooded figures he shot once would come back within a month at most, but if he missed the heart and shot them in the head, they were never seen again. He also found out that when the town lit fireworks, the tall man didn’t appear that night. From then on, he did all he could to create a ring of fire each night.

Folktales grew that leaving clothes, food, medicine and trinkets under Tigerlily’s Willow would lead to stronger protection. One night around 2014 Belle, a more well off girl in the community, was attacked and subsequently saved by Pan, but he didn’t account for her taking fencing classes and carrying a rapier. She fended herself so well that instead of running back into the night, he spoke to her and asked if she could do that more often, creating a TinkerBelle figure. She measured him, asked questions about his interests and the very next day, there she was with a custom outfit: 8 Pages hoodie, two new satchel bags which could be strapped to his legs, a pair of boxers with extra whale tail straps, and a fresh pair of black jeans.

Jhon was drunk driving home from a frat party in spring of 2020 when he hit something. He stopped the car and found the young man mostly unharmed; as an apology he offered his roof to which the agreement was set. One night. That was the night he was next attacked however and though Jhon had no fighting skill outside of the occasional scuffle for the sorority girls’ attention, he showed interest after watching Belle bust the door in and Pan lay waste to the intruders. Peter was gone in the morning and the Officer brushed aside the situation as clearly self-defence. TinkerBelle had a custom red trench coat made for Jhon Hook by the next week.

It was just them three for the following three years. At least it was until the fireworks stopped working. He had just fired off the last one and went to rest under the canopy of a tree that faced the clocktower Moorsville used as a church and he observed a picture of himself and Page sat together in a gazebo. At Eleven O’ Six the man was now before him, leaving no time to react as the seventeen year old was lifted up high, somehow made dizzy and then thrown into the ground below.

He woke up in an empty hospital room: no monitors, no staff, no friends. Just a lightly furnished room with an open window leading to clear blue skies. He thought that he was brought to a hospital out of town, but when he lifted his left hand to shield his eyes he noticed a key difference with it: it was now metal from the elbow down. Lifting up the blanket made him realise that not only was he stripped down to his boxers, but he was also missing the front parts of his legs.

Something was up. Peter Pan hid in the corner of the room ready to at least try and attack anyone who came too close. Thankfully he didn’t have to as doctors came in, except these doctors were robots, they posed no threats and well if technology was working around here then clearly that tall man wasn’t going to bother him soon. He didn’t understand much of what they said: telling him he needed to recharge, not the arm, he himself needed to recharge. It took some back and forth confusion but they managed to explain that they just wanted him to get back in the bed. He would usually be suspicious of this but given what happened he knew he’d need more time before going back to defend his hamlet.

Food was surprisingly scarce: mostly gluten globs, occasionally meat - and to his shock, he’d quite often find nuts and bolts among them. The staff were extremely apologetic but when he asked if he could see a human doctor, they only said it was impossible as there were no human members of staff in apparently the only hospital in the whole city.

The day after he woke up, he was brought to a room where all of the items the robots found were laid on a table with his tin opener, father’s gun, mother’s knife and his own stick behind glass. On the way he was concerned by the lack of humans at all and further concerned by the fact that the picture was nowhere on the table and thus one of the last remnants of his sister were lost. Seeing him as just scared and confused rather than a threat, he was returned the majority of his items and sent back to bed.

Over the next few days, he was being tested on his abilities and the nerve-to-wire connections that allowed him to control the prosthetics and by some miracle outpacing a supposed former patient called “Cyborg Sonic” in the reflexes test. One of these tests changed his life forever: it was a test to see how fast he could run. He would run thrice around the city in an anticlockwise direction and then the average time would be calculated. Whilst the doctors were setting up, he noticed that he could not find another human being in the vicinity leading to unsettling thoughts. On his third run, Pan had run into someone and fallen over. The robot sounded disgruntled and rudely asked if he could see “in that thing” as their friend asked if he was okay. He didn’t want them to think he’s different and only let them see his arm. When asked if he was hurt, he pointed to one of the “NO”s that covered his right sleeve and when asked where he came from, he gestured for them to follow him back to the starting line (whilst the frog robot failed to make sufficient small talk) where he did his third run again.

The doctor gave him a sandwich and a cup of water and suggested taking off the hoodie to cool off, Peter Pan begins calm and simply gestures that he doesn’t want to do so around what turns out to be local heroes Mighton and Bolts but in the face of insistence snaps saying that he’s had to deal with what might as well be God and can handle some hot weather.

Bolts does end up getting through to him: he’s one of the only people who have been nice off the bat and even through his attitude is still offering a hand. Pan picks up his food and leads Bolts to a place not too far from the doomsday bunker. In the absence of pen and paper he is lead to the library and back, confirmed to be the same location by the nut he left on the ground. He drew a picture of the attack, removing the hoodie halfway through, and turned to show it to the unexpected companion. He was prompted to explain that the tall man was essentially God, thats the clocktower that’s a missing poster of his friend who’s probably dead, that’s a missing poster for himself, that’s the picture he thought he lost, that’s his parents house, “if I had parents why would I still have missing posters hung up?” the typical things you’d need to point out in a picture. He asked that if Bolts is to show anyone the picture he doesn’t explain anything.

Pan asked if there were any others like him and he was told that there are other cyborgs but none of them are human. Half-jokingly asked if any of them were a blue hedgehog who runs fast and yes. They were made with the DNA of Sonic The Hedgehog and others using the DNA of his friends. This was when Pan decided it was time to go home as dealing with what might be God is one thing, ending up in a video game is another.

Before going separate ways, the teen orphan was asked his own name; he whistled an extract of Ruth B’s “Lost Boy” and left them to figure it out.

Even after the last exam, he was told to stay in hospital because some final datapoints had to be analysed. In truth, they had assembled a group of doctors, civilians and the two heroes to discuss the matter of his condition: there was no way they’re getting him home, even if they had the technology to he would need regular checkups and it would be almost impossible to ensure his safety. The question then pivoted to housing arrangements within the city. It took some picking up and putting down but really only two robots were capable of looking after any human child, much less one as defensive as this.

There was a knock on the door and Peter Pan quickly stuffed his notebook into his bag. The two heroes and Doctor First Aid Smith entered with news: they found a household they believed could adopt him. He looked surprised, looked down, looked up and appeared relieved. This was also a relief to Mighton and the Doctor as they believed he would be upset about not going back home. He was walked to a house in the Uptown square where Gyna and Andrew lived. They had dinner already in the oven for the trio’s arrival and removed every piece of metal that wasn’t baked into something. It was decided that “Kid” would stay for two weeks to settle in and figure out whether he wants to live with the couple, then he was taken to an empty room upstairs with an in-the-wall bed with a drawer semi-hidden under the draping covers, they had been told prior that Pan doodles and decided to leave the room blank for him to decorate himself.

The two were former Nanny robots designed to care for young children which unfortunately means they have to be told about the nuances of caring for an older teenager but also that they’re willing to listen to what their soon-to-be son has to say. Their parenting style had only one true drawback: they were too good to be true. He was found pacing the square late one night and before either Mighton or Bolts could actually get to him he had to be sat down. His concerns were that since they’re so perfect, they’d surely be killed. Whilst neither did the impossible and said the right thing, Mighton certainly did worse: he didn’t believe that Pan’s parents were killed by that tall man and voiced the same old line that almost every victim used “Just a story.” Bolts told him that he doesn’t have to worry about that anymore: if anyone wanted to hurt any of the citizens, not only do they have perfect replicas of Team Sonic, but they themselves are sworn protectors and won’t allow them to even get close. The comfort was met with disappointed head shaking, but it did the job.

He had settled in and in lack of a serial number was given the ID/Quick Contact (Q-Con) code P-Pan 374277 to match his parents (G-noid and A-noid 372477). One night, during a dinner which his new robot uncles attended, there was a knock at the door. Bolts got up and a few moments later Mighton followed suit. Peter Pan may not have met Dr. Ivo “Eggman” Robotnik but he sure as sky blue knew what he sounded like; he approached the door out of curiosity but was once again told that he doesn’t have to worry about this. A girl who looked roughly his own age peered in, their eyes locked and she quickly turned a piece of paper around to show him before the so-called heroes stepped between them. It was her. For the first time since landing in Roboken, Pan directly opposed someone and tried to force himself into the fray. Despite being pushed back inside, he managed to catch Bolts’ eyes and that was enough to make him take another look at the scene: there was a 1 in 73647.6845 chance that this was the very same girl who had supposedly died 12 years ago. Team Cybonic were there shortly after and refused to fight due to some kind of truce their organic counterparts had made with the robotics doctor, forcing the entire situation to dissolve. Pan took the girl by the hand and pulled a page of his own out of his pocket, depicting the same scene that occurred just days before they were separated. The two looked at each other and initiated an old handshake “Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust.”

She explained many things: She goes by Alen Gadd to most folks but she is still Page Baker, she can speak she just didn’t know how at the time, Eggman is her cousin, no they don’t know how they’re supposed to be related he was just called into hospital one day, she has lived an entire life before meeting him but something happened and her life got reset and relocated, no they don’t know what, there’s a truce between Team Sonic and Eggman that if he’s there to help her, they don’t intervene, and she’s sorry. She’s sorry because she had run away from the Slenderman - the tall man - and had unintentionally lead him to Moorsville. She’s sorry because she killed them all. When he tried to correct her that only 15 people died with the two of them having empty coffins, she handed him the photo he had lost when trying to fight off the surprise attack from two months ago.

Pan brought her to his room, it was still mostly empty but there was a Wii, DVD, and TV set brought down from the attic. Eggman checked in with his youngest cousin, handing her a case with a medical cross on it, and leaving for their own lodgings to inform his family and her friends of the situation. Even after the others in her party left, she stuck around to catch up with Pete. Just like old times.

Though, of course, despite any doubt in the monster’s existence or comfort in that he would no longer have to face it. It appeared. With a storm brewing outside the glass that protected the robot population, a man called Jackson had been similarly brought to Roboken: by force with his arm broken and home burned, it merely took a moment to realise what was going on and with no one else to call, they had to defend the city themselves.

They had no plan, they didn’t need one. Pan assisted Jackson to the edge of the square where he could aim his shotgun and rush back to take that thing head on whilst Page distracted it with serrated whips. With cloud blocking view from all sides, they relied on the lightning strike to see what they were doing, their hearing impeded by the drumming of the rain. The weather was perfect for a hidden strike. First it stole his stick, then it grabbed him by the ankle and threw the child out the open gateway to plummet feet upon feet to his death.

He didn’t remember much of the fall, just the lashing wind and a slowing descent as his sister caught him. He didn’t register the fact she’d jumped after him until she walked him through a portal made of her own bracelet and set him down. Jackson was wrapped in one of Bolts’ arms, Mighton just looked shocked with Cyborg Tails nearby holding the now broken shortstaff as the rest of the team searched for any civilians in the area. Visibly weak and distressed, the trio of survivors were lead further into the city though shortly after and in quick succession they collapsed.

They were transported to an empty, Noir version of the city. It was eerie and strange but it didn’t last long. They woke up in a huddle in the corner of a room not even Pan recognised. He pulled out his knife and prepared to take on whoever was on the other side of the curtain but was startled back when Mighton reached around to open it. To the doubts of Sticks, he was just checking to see if they were still out and they had just been put in the medical section of a hidden bunker but they didn’t all fit on the bed and no one wanted to leave the others. The three were exposed to the rest of the room where the weapons they dropped were returned, Bolts had even repaired the shortstaff realising how much Pan had valued it. After some diagnosis, Page went back to Eggman’s lair dragging Jackson with her though Pan stayed behind because his uncles have all but put him on a leash to minimise his interactions with the apparently evil doctor. The new metal band around the shortstaff gave him an idea and between decorating his room to fit a desk, chair, homemade Operator symbol rug, and multiple flowers - saved up for a cosmetic surgery.

It appeared that none of the local heroes had fought these before: three bipedal creatures out of nowhere, hooded and masked and one looked rabid, it had narrowly missed them with a ranged melee attack. They weren’t struggling but they weren’t winning. Then a familiar voice perked up.

“Hey, Time-bomb! You dropped something.”

Pan had taken the hatchet out of the wall and simply stood still as the three came charging. He dodged one, two. Caught the third and danced around them. That’s not a metaphor, he quite literally danced to avoid their attacks. After all of that, he managed to drive them away though sighed about not being able to kill them. Though this started a “murder is bad” lecture, he told them that he’s a hero too, been fighting them for years and unless they’re killed they won’t stop coming. They opted to just drop him off at home.

You’d think that after seeing physical evidence, having his own friend be a witness and no other ideas on how Pan ended up in the city, Mighton would start to believe his nephew but not really. He doesn’t deny that something could have happened as clearly he got here somehow and the parents are dead but he finds it hard to believe that The Slenderman actually exists.

He’s made a name for himself since and though he’s not as famous as his cohorts, he doesn’t care.

[woodsfae]

If I Had A Nickel For Every Time I Was Forcibly Re-Traumatized During A Work Training I'd Only Have Two Nickels, But It's Weird That It Happened Twice

#1: MCC, 2017ish

In 2017, I got hired to work as a crewleader for the Montana Conservation Corps (MCC) as a replacement for some dude who washed out of the crewleader training by taking the digeridoo he brought with him and walked into the mountains for three days for some bs white man's appropriative spiritual quest instead of...y'know...attending training.

So I came in late, but still more experienced than anyone but one other crewleader I met, and was immediately put into a week of 8-hour-a-day training out at a classically folksy campground several hours into the middle of a rural, wooded area. Some of the training was great, especially the modules led by the indigenous staff members. I use what I learned in the Racial Justice module lead by two members of the Blackfoot nation and one member of the Little Shell Chippewa nation regularly, and look back on it as a highlight of that week. Not only in regards to the information I was provided, but the way they were taught.

The Wilderness First Responder training, lead by "Wild Bill and Lady Louise," however, was even more folksy, anecdote-laden, and self-congratulatory than you can imagine. I technically learned one thing in that training, which was comprised of at least 50% egotistical, self-aggrandizing personal stories of questionable educational quality. Most of the trainings lay somewhere between these two examples. But not the training on recognizing domestic abuse. That was one was not only extremely bad, but badly mis-handled.

"Michal, what could be wrong about teaching youth crewleaders how to recognize signs of domestic abuse in the vulnerable youth you were entrusted with?" my strawman example commenter cries out. Well. I'll tell you since you asked.

A woman who ran a women's shelter got up and told graphic stories about battered women and children, presumably thinking that horrifying people with the depravity of cishet mankind was enough of a training, without recognizing that the statistics she was quoting at us also applied to us. Part-way through the recitation of all the ways abusive family members can harm people in their household, I recognized that I was having flashbacks about my time as a child in a household that was so ludicrously abusive, many people have told me I must be lying about my own life because they can't believe any parent is that comically, over-the-top evil. And so I sensibly got out of my metal, folding chair -- also sensibly selected towards the back of the seating after I saw the topic in the folded, paper handout we were provided with of the day's proceedings -- and went to go take a little walk around the building to hopefully shake myself out of this little C-PTSD triggered response, and come back once I was feeling less disassociated.

I got as far as the door. Some fucking white, male staff member literally jumped in front of the door to physically block me from leaving and then told me that I was not allowed to leave a training.

I said OK, but I am experiencing a PTSD episode from the subject material and need a moment to compose myself.

This did not persuade him to stop, and may I reiterate, physically blocking the door for me to leave.

I reasoned with him with the type of calmness under duress only acquired by getting PTSD: Sir. I was abused as a child. This is distressing subject matter for me to hear. I am disassociating because of my PTSD, because I was abused much as this presenter is currently describing. I need to go outside and attempt to stop disassociating.

He said that if I left he would mark me as having not completed this training, which was required to continue being employed by MCC.

As I only had about $100 in my bank account, and rent due in a week for which I was relying on my impending, Americorps stipend (as I recall, around $700 a month) to cover, I returned to my seat and continued violently disassociating.

The next module was choose-your-own-but-a-free-period-is-not-allowed, and so I picked one that looked interesting, and was also lead by an indigenous woman. There was some kind of team building exercise, that I cannot clearly recall, due to said violent disassociation. It was something to do with balancing pipes, I think. The trainer noticed I could not physically make the pipes do the thing and drew me aside.

That last module triggered my PTSD badly, I told her, and: I am struggling to stop disassociating.

She sent me to go spend as much time as I needed to gather myself. Still badly effected by the previous, white male staffmember threatening my employment, I only went behind a nearby camp vehicle, sat, and tried to pull myself together. She came to check on me again, and confided that she was also triggered by the presentation, having had domestic abuse in her history. Her kindness and openness made me cry, and the solidarity helped me regain a little footing. I said I was planning to complain about the lack of trigger warnings and for not allowing for a recovery break, and she said she would, too.

In my next free period, I went around and talked to the new acquaintances I had made so far in training, most of whom had un-ideal childhoods. There are plenty of seasonal workers who have great, stable backgrounds. They tend to be on summer break from college, or are between a bachelor's and a grad program. But a lot of the time seasonal workers are people who have unstable personal histories, who have seasonal jobs and no safety nets because they were poor, or queer, otherwise discriminated against, or any combination thereof. People who take $700 a month, physically demanding temporary jobs are either extremely privileged, or extremely disadvantaged. As a member of the latter group, I can assure you we sniff each other out in a matter of hours, and sometimes seconds.

Well, to cut a long story slightly less long, I wrote a letter of personal complaint, persuaded a half a dozen other people to personally complain, a few from the privileged, non-triggered contingent, merely on the moral merits of the argument. MCC gave a formal apology -- two, actually -- and an offer to for anyone who was upset to talk to a staff member. One of the people who gave an apology on behalf of the organization was the indigenous woman who told me the presentation was triggering for her which, if it wasn't fully her decision, is extremely fucked up. I did speak to some of the staff members. But I do not think it endeared me to anyone in the organization for later reasons that can only be told in separate tales. Because for some fucking reason (being flat broke and owing rent), I did not quit and continued to work for MCC through the rest of the season.

#2: In 2024 I was hired at [redacted]. Let's call it the climate change nonprofit (CC). My training at CC went fine until it didn't. Then, I joined a training for how to form a persuasive argument that adapts to the scenario. We learned some stuff. We watched a video. Then a "trigger warning: self harm" slide come on the screen and one of the trainers said we ought to leave the training if we thought we needed to, now or partway through the video, and they would simply let us know when it was done, wait for us to rejoin, and continue the training.

Having come from, as previously stated, a comically-extremely abusive background, which did come along with a free serving of self-harming, I thought about it, then braced myself for unknown levels of self harm education. Mostly I was confused as to why a climate change video came with a self harm trigger warning.

It was mistagged. What it actually was, was a speech by a white, queer man, who opened by describing a death by suicide, due to homophobic revenge porn lifestreaming. And then the speaker's experience of being called a f*g at age seven by a teacher. And more homophobia. And then a call to action to not be in the closet but to be out so you can help people who aren't out, by being openly gay. Then a breakdown by a professor in a class as to why this was an effective emotional appeal (I beg to differ. It half made me want to go back in the closet, so effectively did it call back to my childhood being called a Demon-Possessed-Lesbian-Whore by my own mother, before I'd even processed what gender meant as an abstract concept).

Needless to say, I was fucking triggered. I froze, and did not leave the training. A bit later we were given 10 minutes to write an elevator pitch based on the information of how to make an elevator pitch, and a scenario in which to set it.

Fueled by the power of two-decades-of-using-writing-as-a-trauma-processing-tool and also my oldest superpower, spite, I wrote an elevator pitch with the emotional hook of "I enjoy not having an asthma attack from wildfire smoke," and pivoted it to "we have the state constitutional right to clean air will you join us in electing politicians who won't amend the state constitution to remove that right." It went well.

And then, because I am constitutionally incapable of biting my tongue when someone does something fucked up, I wrote an extremely civil email with extremely academically formal language objecting to the lack of correct trigger warnings, and using a such a traumatically unrelated topic as suicidal ideation due to intense homophobic violence to climate change to teach us how to write a persuasive pitch to get people to volunteer for climate causes. By talking about how long it takes a queer person to fall 500 feet to their death of despair. Because that's emotionally equivalent to whomever decided that including those videos in the training was a great idea.

My supervisors at CC both expressed their regret as to the inaccurate tagging and explicit homophobic violence. I personally checked in with the other openly queer person in my training group and they said they were messed up by it too. They didn't seem keen on also sending feedback, but I recognize I have a Personality Type that is out of the norm (stubborn as hell and twice as obstinate. About injustice, anyways).

What. Even. Is. My. Life. I asked my partner if he'd ever had a similar experience with a work training being on an innapropriately-insensitive-about-societal-violence topic and he, knowing both sets of events and agreeing they're fucked up, was like "?Absolutely NOT." So I'm pretty sure this isn't a normal experience.

It's weird that it happened twice, right?

If anyone at [redacted] organization sees this and recognizes the scenario, please note that this is anonymized so there's no way anyone could connect this to your -- I'm sure generally lovely -- nonprofit, and also I need this job a lot. Due to said disadvantaged background featuring comically-absurd levels of childhood abuse.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Silver Blaze pt 2

We venture further into the web of intrigue, murder and horse theft.

I have decided that the funniest end to this story is if Silver Blaze is just never seen again. Like the horse just ran off onto the moors and is now living in sin with a herd of Dartmoor ponies and frolicking all the livelong day.

Although it would be funny, but tragic, if Silver Blaze ends up being killed offpage in a random shipwreck. I don't want that to happen, but there would be a certain black humour to events.

In every other direction the low curves of the moor, bronze-colored from the fading ferns, stretched away to the sky-line, broken only by the steeples of Tavistock, and by a cluster of houses away to the westward which marked the Mapleton stables.

Watson was secretly being paid by the Devon Marketing Board because this makes me want to go to Dartmoor. Go to Devon, have a nice cream tea, see some Dartmoor ponies, experience the terrifying and exhilarating awe of witnessing untamed nature? God I need a holiday.

And a cream tea.

But mostly a holiday.

I didn't realise the other stables were so close you could literally see them from the main house, though.

“I think that I should prefer to stay here a little and go into one or two questions of detail. Straker was brought back here, I presume?” “Yes; he lies upstairs. The inquest is to-morrow.”

Just got the body of a murdered man upstairs, nbd.

I know they have nowhere else to put him, but damn that's unsanitary. Don't keep him upstairs, at least keep him somewhere cold and not part of the main house. Although I suppose you could be keeping him in the pantry, so we're all grateful you're not.

“I presume that you made an inventory of what he had in this pockets at the time of his death, Inspector?”

Also, the American spelling of aluminium... like we had the American spelling of grey a week or so ago. That always throws me out a bit, but I acknowledge that that is probably because it is literally my job to localise things from US to UK English and vice versa, so I am trained to notice them.

"This other is a milliner's account for thirty-seven pounds fifteen made out by Madame Lesurier, of Bond Street, to William Derbyshire."

Back to the trusty inflation calculator, thank you Bank of England website, that's more than £3,500 in today's money. And while Holmes says 'a single costume' as far as I'm aware, milliners were hat makers, not full on tailors, although maybe they did both. 3.5 grand for a hat is... insane amounts of money. Could this be a secret payment for a horse? Or for stealing a horse? Money laundering?

“Dear me! Why, I could have sworn to it. You wore a costume of dove-colored silk with ostrich-feather trimming.” “I never had such a dress, sir,” answered the lady.

Guessing that's the £3.5K dress, then. Ostrich feathers are pricey.

So... so... what if the guy had the cataract knife in his pocket, which was super sharp, right, and the cork fell off the blade, right... and it cut his leg as he was walking? and in the confusion the horse stomped him to death with its hooves. And then Silver Blaze ran off into the night, met a nice Dartmoor pony, settled down, fathered a few foals, and lived happily to the end of his days.

“In this bag I have one of the boots which Straker wore, one of Fitzroy Simpson's shoes, and a cast horseshoe of Silver Blaze.” “My dear Inspector, you surpass yourself!”

Another competent police officer! Will wonders never cease? Although the last one did arrest the wrong man deliberately and have racist articles published in order to lure out the true suspect.

The horse is a very gregarious creature. If left to himself his instincts would have been either to return to King's Pyland or go over to Mapleton.

Or... or... or... to the Dartmoor ponies. Freedom! Pony friends. Thundering across the moors together.

"It was Holmes who saw them first, and he stood pointing with a look of triumph upon his face. A man's track was visible beside the horse's."

OK, working theory, which I absolutely cannot remember if I'm right or not. Straker steals the horse because he has debts/an expensive mistress (£3.5k for a dress yikes), but as stated before, the cork comes off the knife, he cuts open his thigh and panics. Man panicking makes horse panic, because horses are scaredy cats. But they are heavy scaredy cats with hooves. Silver Blaze unintentionally kills his own kidnapper and runs off into the night. Then one of the grooms from the other stable sees him says 'ooh, free horse' and leads him back to the stable.

The double track turned sharp off and took the direction of King's Pyland. Holmes whistled, and we both followed along after it. His eyes were on the trail, but I happened to look a little to one side, and saw to my surprise the same tracks coming back again in the opposite direction.

So they were going to return him... then they decided not to?

“I've no time to talk to every gadabout. We want no stranger here. Be off, or you may find a dog at your heels.” Holmes leaned forward and whispered something in the trainer's ear. He started violently and flushed to the temples.

Not a horse whisperer, but a horse-trainer whisperer.

Silas Brown seems like a pleasant fellow, doesn't he? Love it when people threaten to set dogs on me just for stopping to have a chat.

“Oh, and old horse-faker like him has many a dodge.”

I do know how the horse has been hidden. That is like the one thing I remember. I think Enid Blyton used the same trick in one of her stories at one point. Either that or she just wrote another story about a stolen horse and I smashed them together in my mind.

"That is the advantage of being unofficial. I don't know whether you observed it, Watson, but the Colonel's manner has been just a trifle cavalier to me. I am inclined now to have a little amusement at his expense. Say nothing to him about the horse."

Colonels, you can't trust them. I'm trying to remember a single colonel in these stories who has been a good guy and I'm struggling. Even the one who died was a traitor. Colonels should not be trusted.

We had only been a few hours in Devonshire, and that he should give up an investigation which he had begun so brilliantly was quite incomprehensible to me.

Yeah, my dudes, stop for lunch. Find a nice little country pub or cafe somewhere. Have a tea, have a scone. Please allow me to vicariously live through you.

The Inspector opened his eyes, and the Colonel's lip curled in a sneer. “So you despair of arresting the murderer of poor Straker,” said he.

Colonels are terrible. This is clearly the hidden message of these stories.

Wouldn't put it past him to be race fixing and have bet against his own horse, then arranged for Straker to get Silver Blaze out of the way for a little while so he can rake in the dough.

But maybe he's just a horrible person. That's also possible. Not all horrible people are criminals. We must remember this.

Until next time. We've solved where the horse is (which is the bit I already sort of knew. I knew it was in a stable and I knew how it was being hidden), next step the mastermind behind the failed theft.

I really think that Straker might have accidentally sliced open his own artery and caused all the problems. This is why you don't keep knives in your pocket. Bad idea. Lots of arteries and veins right there.

Alas, Silver Blaze did not choose to roam the moors with a herd of wild ponies. Still kind of wish he had, though.

[n1ghtm3ds]

So I saw this really gross judgmental video about "adults adopting adults" and saying that it is always kink/ddlg related and I wanted to share some perspective.

A good friend of mine (who is actually a few years older than me) has no relationship with his parents. They pimped him out from literal infancy and tortured and made CSAM of him until he ran away to become a soldier when he was 16 where he got severe CPTSD from combat and then when he was discharged he became an EMT and got a whole boatload or PTSD from that.

He found a wife. they dated for like 30 seconds before getting married because she was a hardcore Christian and wanted to be married as a virgin and wanted kids right away and he accepted her because he didn't believe anybody else would ever love him (like many CSA survivors he turned to binge eating and gained what is called "defensive weight" he is very large, probably over 500 because hes also very tall, and very insecure about it even though he is quite handsome) he worked as a bouncer in town at my favorite club and hed let me in for free/let me into the back to do my drugs/go on coked-up coke-finding adventures with me, we had a lot of fun together.

Things were looking up for a little while; that is, until she emptied their bank accounts with no warning and ran off with their daughter first to join a women's-only religious cult and later to do meth in the New Mexico. His daughter is 8, was sexually abused by multiple of her mothers boyfriends and my friend can't do anything to help her (his only income is veterans benefits and he isn't mentally stable enough to care for her himself. hes tried to call CPS to at least get his daughter put in foster care away from her mother but the mother has no stable address and the daughter was never enrolled in school and they just live either out of their car or in trap houses so hes been trying to track them down for almost 3 years now with no luck).

Now hes agoraphobic and Im one of the few people he has any contact with a few times a week. Hes addicted to benzos because that is all the veteran's healthsystem keeps throwing at him so he spends most of his time barely lucid just trying not to crumble under the boulders hes buried by.

He calls me mom and I call him son and I try to be supportive and loving in the ways that a good mom would because thats what he needs to work toward healing. he even sent me a mothers day card and said he had wanted to send one his entire life but never had a mother who he could send it to. Found family is a beautiful thing. I don't think theres anything wrong with adults adopting a parental role to other adults especially adults who were denied proper parental support throughout their lives. I love my son. i love being his mom and taking care of him emotionally and checking in to make sure hes preforming self care. Found family is wholesome.