#the 'i am independent and tough and smart' to 'oh fuck oh no oh shit' pipeline is real

[lostandbackagain]

so fucking awesome that adsom ends with lila bravely not turning back and immediately almost dying. badly

[jesswritesthat]

hellooo can i request smth w nishinoya please 🥺👉🏽👈🏽 so he meets y/n in the park bc shes tryna learn how to skateboard for the first time and he sees her fall and is like OMGKDKSKSK ARE U OKAY (she is, she was wearing knee pads and shit) anyways so they become friends and hang out and then start dating and NOBODY on the team believes noya bagged a cutie bc she’s super smart and studious but she’s lowkey so chaotic and loves trying new things (hence her new years resolution to learn to skateboard am i basing this off me you’ll never know) and she’s always dragging him out to new places in miyagi, maybe they even catch trains to tokyo and stuff omg ANYWAYS she goes to another school but noya and tanaka have exams soon and noya’s like “my gf is super smart!! and organized! she’ll help!!!) and they acc meet her there and she’s super friendly and cracks jokes so noya and tanaka are like “this will be a BREEZE” but she does NOT fuck around w school so she flips a switch like “how do you NOT have a schedule for your exams??? omg how do you keep organized??” tanaka and noya: “👀👁👁 we don’t,,,” and she won’t slack off w noya just bc they’re dating KFKSKSKS. bonus points if she has a notion account bc i’m obsessed w organizing everything in my life w mine, it’s acc an issue. ofc no pressure bc this is SUPER long, headcannons or drabble is all up to you babes!! ❤️

A/N: Omgggg yes! I freaking love Nishinoya, this is a cute request I’m loving it. I hope your skateboarding is going well and OH WOW I wish I could be as organised as you. Gifted anon.

>>>>——————————>

Meeting and Studying with Nishinoya Yū Headcanons:

• Resolutions. This was it, you were going to stick to this one. Hence why you warily balanced on a skateboard about to plummet to your doom - it'll be fine...

• Until your board went scuttling across the pavement leaving you in it's dust, with no intention of returning, much to your aggravation.

"WOAH ARE YOU OKAY?! ARE YOU HURT - THAT WAS A TRIP AND A HALF! A-" It was probably the loudest voice you'd heard, with a blonde tuff hovering over you in seconds.

"I'm fine, I'm fine, please calm down!"

• With an apologetical smile, the boy pulled you to your feet, introducing himself as Nishinoya Yū. A contrastingly shyer tone than that previously, including the heat rising on his features.

"Sorry, I saw you fly and panicked, then I actually saw you and..."

"And...?" You parroted, brushing yourself and kneepads off with a lazy smile.

"And I thought you seemed nice, can't have a nice person getting hurt, right?"

• Now you’ve actually met, you start noticing each other a lot more since he trains on the court near the skatepark. Nishinoya will offer a greeting or wave as he passes, not being brave enough to imitate conversation yet but you both work up to that.

• Eventually you meet up after you’ve finished skateboarding and Volleyball respectively, or assist the other in their independent practices once you grow comfortable. He’ll hold you to balance on the board, in return you throw balls for him to receive/dig.

• The sparks of romantic connection are there and soon your hangouts begin to mirror dates, just without the classification. You’ll do things outside of the park, like getting food or venturing to some cool place one of you had heard of.

• It's an adventure everyday with him, you were known to explore the streets of Miyagi - you'd found all of the skateparks, dropped into Ukais' store every so often much to his 'annoyance' and even got yourselves train passes.

• His team honestly do not believe him, even if the lovestruck grin he wears whenever he speaks of you is eerily convincing.

Asahi give him the benefit of the doubt, hence why he and Tanaka are the first to see a picture of you. Hinata also trusts in his Senpai, and Ukai begrudgingly confirms your existence having met you.

• Ōsaka? Been there. Yokohama? The dock has an amazing view. Tokyo? Some of the best Cafés in Japan. You could tell he had a sense of adventure, and you doubted Japan would keep him for long.

• It wasn't unusual for Nishinoya to come in with weird snacks or mementos for the team.

"Eh? Noya, where'd you get this?" Tanaka questions his bright friend, the item foreign of Miyagi garnering his attention.

"(Y/n) and I went to Tokyo the other day!"

"Without me?!" It seems you had a self-proclaimed Third Wheel™ on your hands now. You didn’t mind, his friends were pretty amazing.

• They first properly hear/met you when Karasuno are planning for exams, and Tanaka, Nishinoya, Kageyama and Hinata are the main concerns due their lack of academic prowess - Noya is a sparkling ray of sunshine though.

"We got this Ryuu! My partner is super smart, and can help us study!"

"Have I ever told you how glad I am that you met (Y/n)?"

• Nishinoya calls you in the midst of chaos, voice all too happy to hear yours with the echoes of Karasuno muttering greeting in the background.

"Hey gorgeous! Think you could help Tanaka and I study? I'll buy your favourite foods as a thank you!"

"Yeah, it'll be useful for me too."

"(Y/N)-CHAN SAID YES!"

An array of cheers swarmed the phone causing you to wince, it's not like you were getting married but clearly the grades of these two were a problem.

• Nevertheless, the pair rocked up to your house with more snacks than study material - a twitch of your eye sent to them in disbelief. It only gets worse when you set up and ask about their preparations.

• "You... you don't have an exam schedule?"

"Nope~" They're far to gleeful about it and it's setting you on edge, honestly your heart is spasming at how uncoordinated they are. With no worries about it.

"Then how do you stay organised?"

A moment of silence passes, the two noting the pensive shift in atmosphere and meet your unnerved gaze with blank stares.

"...We don't...?"

.

.

.

• The slam of your head hitting the desk made them jump, a pained groan escaping as you took a much needed deep breath. This is gonna be tough.

• Nishinoya is quick-thinking, so he innocently leans in to kiss you as a distraction and a reward once you get on with the study session. Only, you whip out of the way so fast, the boy nearly face-plants the floor.

"(Y-y/n)?! What the heck was that for?" He’s pouting at you, puppy eyes sent your way as he catches himself whilst you simply sigh.

"No kisses until we're done studying."

"None? Like at all?! How am I gonna survive?"

"HAHA you got rejected SO HARD!" Tanakas laughter echoes around the room, the Spikers hand slapping your table in amusement.

"I don't recall you finishing your page either Tanaka-san." An expectant brow is raised his direction, a quick awkward cough sputtering from him with Nishinoya issuing a subtle smug smirk.

"...no, I'm - uh, I'm doing it..."

• You’ve set them up Notion accounts to keep themselves in check whilst you’re not around because honestly, you lacked the trust they’d do it themselves. They’re grateful though, hence the array of snacks/flowers (and screenshots of their revision) you received.

• Boys ACE their exams and come bombing into you after school thanking you and praising your organisation skills like a shrine. Then Yū catches you off guard with an excited kiss to your lips.

"You owe me~"

Yeah he's kinda right, and how could you deny?

• The whole Volleyball team is apparently really proud. Daichi politely requests if you could help Hinata and Kageyama too - but Yū swoops in promising to spare them. Or keep you to himself. It’s undecided...

• Either way, he’s all too glad to treat you to a trip to Tokyo - having found this cool Cat Café or skatepark online, the choice is yours. It’s his personal way of saying thank you for just being you.

Of course, Tanaka saw one of the pictures you posted and proceeded to text.

[ Without me?! 😫]

<——————————<<<<

[ Masterlist ]

[chickensarentcheap]

Best Part of Me -Chapter 77

Warnings: none

Tagging: @innerpaperexpertcloud​, @alievans007​, @c-a-v-a-l-r-y​

“Easiest way to do this is to park on the east side of the Sultana Kamal Bridge,” Esme instructs,  face emotionless and eyes riveted on the road in front of them.

The closer they get to the city center, the more powerful the anxiety grows; gnawing at her stomach and tying it into knots and painfully tightening her chest. The mere thought of being in Bangladesh itself has been nerve wracking enough, but being minutes from the downtown core and from the single most traumatic event of her life has her body and mind rebelling. Incessant nausea accompanied by a pounding headache; her heart thundering in her chest and sweat gathering at her temples and along the nape of her neck.  She feels light headed and repeatedly wrings her perspiration slicked hands together and bounces her leg up and down. The beginning of the ride had been tolerable, but when weather beaten high rises and smaller, derelict apartments began to appear on the horizon, the situation became far too real. It’s terrifying and puts her already frazzled nerves on high alert, and there’s nothing she wants more than to tell Koen to stop and turn around; go back to the house and get someone else to do the dirty work. To find a way back to Mumbai and her children; wait the situation out and hope  and pray that they can go home sooner rather than later.   But it isn’t that easy. She can’t simply walk away and wash her hands of it. Not when Neysa and Aarev are being held captive and especially not when her own family is being threatened.  There’s not a single escape   that doesn’t involve going directly into town. And unfortunately, the quickest way in -and out- is over that bridge.

“You sure about that?” Koen asks, a frown curving his lips. “Doesn’t seem easy. Or smart for that matter.”

“It’s way too crowded right downtown,” she reasons. “Especially at this time of the day. This is prime market hours. I’ve been here; I know what the streets are like and I know they’re crowded and damn near impossible to navigate in a car.”

“And if shit goes down, we have a hell of a long way back to our ride,” he informs her.

“If shit goes down, it won’t matter where we’re parked. Thirty inches away, thirty feet, thirty yards, thirty miles. If something goes wrong, we won’t make it back to the car no matter how close it is.”

“So how do we get back? If something does fuck up?”

“We don’t. At least not until nightfall. We find somewhere safe to hunker down until things have calmed and we can start moving again. And that’s IF we get that far. You do realize what will happen to us if we’re caught, right? If Asif’s people catch on or the cops figure out we’re connected to Tyler? Chances are, we won’t survive long enough to see the sun go down.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“I know places where we can hide out if we need to. But they’re only good if we can get to them. We have to get into town and be smart and be quick. The longer we’re there, the higher the chance of things going to shit. I learned that the hard way. I don’t want you to learn it too.”

“But if we…”

“You have to listen to me!” Esme snaps, and he blinks at the force in her voice. “I’ve been here before. I know the city and I know the market area and I am telling you that the best thing to do is park on the east side of the bridge. There’s a clearing there; it’s where we got Ovi out. And if you want to get out of this, you’ll learn from my mistakes. Because I made enough of them seven years ago and I don't want to make any now. I have too much to lose and I won’t let you fuck this up!”

Silence descends on the car, and she places an elbow on the ledge of her window and her palm against her forehead. Eyes closed as she battles both increasing nausea and the flood of tears that threaten to escape. It’s all too much; the sunlight glistening of the waters of the Buraganga, the cityscape in the near horizon, the faint outline and expanse of the bridge in the distance, even Amir Asif’s home -still occupied and majestic; looming down river.

“I’m sorry,” her voice trembles. . “I didn’t mean to yell at you.”

“That was hardly yelling, kiddo. You’d make a great third wife if you think THAT’S yelling.”

She manages a small laugh. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I’m just stressed and tired and scared. And this baby has me hormonal as fuck already.”

“You know, that last part could have been prevented had you just told him to roll over and go to sleep,” Koen teases, then drops a hand from the steering wheel and lays it on the back of her neck, gently massaging. “It’s okay, sunshine. I get it. I understand.”

“This place...Dhaka...that bridge...it’s nothing but horrible memories and a lot of suffering and a lot of trauma and nightmares and bullshit. I do NOT want to be here. I don’t even want to be in Bangladesh. Or Mumbai. I just want to be home; with my husband and my kids and my dogs. I want to wake up in the morning to the sound of the ocean and fall asleep to it at night. And I want to sit on my back porch and watch my kids play and hear them giggle and squeal. And I want to cuddle up to my husband knowing he’s safe and sound and that there’s no one out there that wants to hurt him. That’s all I want. And I don’t think that’s too much to ask.”

“It’s not. It’s definitely not.”

“I almost lost him to this place once, and I don’t want the second time to be successful. I know I pride myself in being a strong, independent woman, but I can’t lose him. I CAN do this life alone...raise the kids by myself...but I don’t want to. That man is my entire world; he’s my best friend and he’s my lover and he’s my confidant. He’s my ‘person’. And if that makes me weak and pathetic for saying all that, I don’t give a shit. It’s true. I love him in a way I thought I could never love another human being. And I’m not ready to let that go. To let HIM go.”

“It won’t come to that,” Koen assures her. “I’ll see to it. That it doesn’t happen.”

“Tyler showed up at a time in my life when I’d given up on ever trusting a man again. Mark was a terrible person, he destroyed me in every possible way and Tyler came along and he picked up those pieces and put them back together and he never once complained about it. He just did it. In his own way.  He always talks about how I saved him, but he doesn’t realize he did the same thing for me. That he saved me in every possible way a person can be saved. If I'd never met him, I probably wouldn’t even be here. Because I was just as much of a mess as he was and just as ready to give up on everything.”

“I never realized it was that bad. That YOU were that bad.”

“There’s a lot of things people don’t know.  That only Tyler knows. But believe me when I say that I was broken and I was lost and he found me. We found EACH OTHER.  And he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t care how cliche it sounds or who hears me say it. It’s the truth. And I didn’t let Mahajan or Asif’s people take him from me. I didn’t let them the first time, and I won’t let it happen this time either.”

“You’re a tough little shit," Koen praises. “You know that?”

“A tough little shit bawling like a baby in front of you? Yeah, that screams tough.”  She uses the backs of her hands to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “Don’t tell Tyler I got like this, okay? He worries enough. He doesn’t need to know about my mental breakdown.”

“Your secret is safe with me, kiddo. But I’m afraid I have some things to say that might make you cry some more.”

“”Oh great! Just what I need; looking like a wreck on the job.”

“Now this is all between me and you, because we both know how embarrassed he gets about feelings and emotions and all of that crap. Just between us, yeah?”

Esme nods.

“First, I have to start off by letting you know that he is wildly and crazily, head over heels,  in love with you. More than he thinks he could ever possibly tell you. So if he doesn’t say it a lot, just know he’s feeling it.  That every time he looks at you, he sees his entire world in front of him. The most beautiful, incredible woman on the planet.”

“He told you that? That came out of his mouth? Was he drunk?”

“Stone cold sober. He does say things WHILE he’s drunk, but those are triple x rated, so…”

Esme laughs. “Of course they are.”

“He is terrified of losing you. Right scared shitless. And he isn’t scared of much and he certainly doesn’t admit what he IS scared of. He doesn't want to do this life without you, and he’s pretty convinced he wouldn’t be able to. I’ve seen women come and go out of his life; mostly one night stands or girls in different places he could go to for getting his rocks off.”

“Nik?”

“Nik meant nothing. He’s not lying when he says that. There wasn’t anything there; at least not for him. And I knew his ex. Sarah. Spent some time with her.”

“”Yeah, I had the pleasure of meeting her. When they shipped him from the hospital here to the one in Sydney.  That was a...pleasant...experience.”

“He thought he was in love with her.  High school sweetheart, mother of his first kid. She treated him like complete shit and they’re both at fault for how that whole thing ended up. But when you came along? When I first met you at the hospital and I talked to him about you? I could tell you were different. That what he was FEELING was different. And I saw how he looked at you; how his whole face just lit up when you walked into the room. The way he’d smile at you and how the whole tone of his voice would change when he talked to you. He had it bad even then; I could tell.”

“Maybe he was still caught in the afterglow of those five days.”

“It was more than that. We all knew it. And I’ve known Tyler a long time; I’ve seen him at his worst. And when you came along, I could see how badly he wanted to change. How much he wanted to be the man you needed him to be. That you deserved. And he worked at it. He STILL works at it. You could have easily walked away after Dhaka. Even with a baby in your belly.”

“I didn’t want to walk away.” Esme says. “I wanted to be with him. I wanted to see if we could make something out of nothing. And we did. We made something so amazing.”

“No way he was letting you go. He knew he had a good thing.  He wasn’t going to fuck that up.”

“We were both a mess. And somehow we’ve managed to not make an even bigger one and not totally screw up our children.”

“Those kids are incredible. They’re beautiful. The best of both of you. And they’re here because you looked past just how messed up their daddy was and you saw the potential in him. He was screwed up, but you still managed to see he was a good person...a good man...under all that. And you gave him a chance. To prove that he mattered. That his life meant something.”

“His life has always meant something to me. And it means everything to his kids. He’s our entire existence. He’s the one that keeps it all together when it feels like it’s falling apart. And it WILL fall apart; if something happens to him. If he doesn’t make it out of here…”

“He will,” Koen insists. “I’ll make sure of it. I’ll make sure he gets out and gets back to you and those littles. I promise.”

She gives a  small, hopeful smile.

“And thank you. For taking care of him like you do. For giving him this life. And for loving him like you do.”

“Your voice…” her voice cracks once more. “...you are going to make me cry again..”

“Some things just need to be said,” he reasons, and runs a palm over the top of her head and down her hair. “Just in case.”

****

“We have a problem.”

It’s difficult to make out what she’s saying; a mixture of poor signal and the near deafening sound of vehicle horns blasting and impatient, flustered yelling of people gathered around her. But there’s no mistaking THAT tone of voice. Fear and worry and a whole lot of anxiety.  He had  just managed to fall asleep -a combination of pure mental exhaustion and another handful of meds- when the phone rang; startling him awake and leaning him disoriented and lightheaded. The extra dose of dilaudid making his head spinning; drowsy despite the nap and sweat beading across his forehead and the back of his neck.  And he grimaces as he sits up on the couch, wincing as he stretches his legs out in front of him and then reaches across his body to rub his shoulder. All those drugs and it STILL persists; that dull, incessant throb deep within the joint and the numbness in his hand.

“What’s wrong? You okay?”

“We parked on the south side of the Sultana Kamal bridge. I figured it was easier to walk in then deal with the traffic and the crowds around the market.”

“Good thinking.” he praises. “Definitely the best way to go. What's the problem?”

“They’ve locked the bridge down. All of the bridges, apparently. They’re not letting anyone through without showing proper ID.”

“You got it, yeah? The one Anil got for you?”

“I do. But that’s not the point. If they’re doing this, they know you’re here. How the hell would they know? We were so careful; coming from the airport.  How do they know you’re here?”

“I have no idea.”

“Someone is feeding these people information. Someone inside. You need to call Anil and let him what’s going on; tell him he needs to figure this out. How are you supposed to do an extraction if you can’t even get into the city? They will kill you on sight, Tyler.”

“I’ll have to figure that out. Is it just the cops?”

“Military too. This is some serious fucking deja vu. As if being on this bridge isn’t bad enough…”

“Are you okay?”

“Not really,” Esme admits. “They have pictures of my husband that they’re comparing to everyone that walks or drives across. So no; I’m not okay.”

“I need you to stay calm. I need you to get over the bridge, get shit done, and get back here safe and sound. I know it sucks; being there on the bridge. But I need you to stay calm. If they see you freaking out, they’ll know something is up. So I need you to settle down.”

“What do we do? If we can’t get out? What do you want us to do? If they lock the city down completely?”

“You call me. You call me and I’ll come and get you. You find somewhere to hide you and I will find a way to get there and get you out.”

“They’ll kill you. If they see you…”

“Better me than you.”

“And if we get caught?”

“Don’t fight them. Let them take you. You fight, they’ll make it worse on you. And if that happens...IF you get caught...I still come get you. Right now, I need you to just relax and get shit done, okay? In and out. No mistakes. Not a single fucking one.”

She gives an uneasy laugh. “No pressure, right?”

“You’ll be alright. You’ve got this. You’ve done this kind of thing hundreds of times.”

“Not when there’s so much at stake, I haven’t. I feel sick. Like really sick.”

“You’re working yourself up. Just try and stay calm. I wish I was there with you; I wish I was the one keeping an eye on you.”

“I wish that too. I’d feel a lot better about all of this if you were here.”

“And it should be me. With you.”

“Koen has things under control. I trust him. Not in the same way I trust or as hard and as deep as I trust you, but…”

“You’re going to be okay. You run into any trouble, you call me. You call me and I’ll get you out.”

“I love you, Tyler. I love you so much.”

“I love you, too. You’ve got this. I know you too.”

“I’ll call if I need to,” she promises, and then disconnects the call.

Sighing heavily, he tosses his cell onto the coffee table and then leans forward and places his elbows on his knees and his face in his hands.   It’s his worst nightmare; her out on the street without him to keep an eye on her. As much as he trusts Koen and knows his friend would stop at nothing to keep her safe, he also knows Koen’s limits. He hasn’t been on the job that long, and despite his years in the military, he simply doesn’t have the skill level or the experience that Tyler has. And it's hard as hell. Being able to do nothing but sit back and wait while his entire heart is out there walking around, putting itself in danger.

He feels nauseous, and both his head and his heart pound furiously. He squeezes his eyes shut and drops his chin to his chest; attempting to steady himself -and his nerves- with long, slow intakes of breath through constricted lungs. It’s the start of a panic attack; he recognizes the fast, irregular heartbeat and the twisting and knotting in his chest and stomach, the perspiration that dampens his hairline. All he can think of is the worst case scenario; Asif’s people grabbing her and spending days...even weeks...making her beg for mercy and eventually death. Doing disgusting and horrendous things to her; abusing her in ways that will make his nightmares seem tame. And they’ll make sure he witnesses it; whether it be through photographs or videos or even forcing her to call him.

His eyes snap open as he reaches for his cell phone; prepared to call Anil and let him know of the hurdles awaiting him in the city center. Pausing when his eyes fall on the bottle of meds sitting nearby. He’s already tripled the recommended daily dose and it’s not even past noon. But there’s no denying the pain; the throbbing in his shoulder and knee and the gnawing in his stomach. And his hands violently tremble as he reaches for the bottle, resorting to using his teeth to twist off the cap. Feeling shame and guilt as he lets four pills drop into his mouth and then swallows them dry.

****

“Something’s not right,” Esme says, as she drops her cell phone into her bag.

The heat is stifling and the humidity nearly unbearable; the Dhaka sun bright and punishing as it beats down on the pedestrians crammed shoulder to shoulder on the bridge. She refuses to acknowledge her surroundings. Choosing to walk along the curb as opposed to near the railing; keeping her eyes straight ahead and never looking down at the ground or out at the river. It’s still too hard; the memories still so fresh and vivid.  Easily able to recall the exact spot in the cracked and dirty sidewalk when he’d been dying in her arms and she’d resorted to sticking her fingers in his neck to save his life. She can still hear the staccato of gunfire and the cries of the wounded and dying and smell spent lead and spilt gasoline. Still able to see the burnt out shells of cars and trucks and mangled, bloody bodies.

“There’s nothing right about any of this,” Koen grumbles, a hand resting protectively on the small of her back, keeping her half a step in front of him as they make their way to the checkpoint.

“That’s true. But I meant with Tyler. Something isn’t right with him.”

“He seemed fine this morning.”

“He is FAR from fine. Things have gotten so much worse since the night he was jumped. The pain is intense and he’s suffering more and more and I don’t know what else I can do for him, other than forcing him to go to the doctor when we get home.”

“Just keep loving on him like you do and taking care of him. I know he appreciates it; Even if he won’t admit. And Lord knows he’s stressed and he’s worried and he’s got a lot on his mind. Makes sense he’s not himself.”

“It’s more than that. He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded...off. He didn’t sound like Tyler. I KNOW his voice; I know its changes and all the different ways it can sound depending on his mood. And that? I haven’t heard that Tyler in a long time. Since our battle trying to beat Oxy. He almost sounds like he’s on it; he’s groggy and just out of it and his accent is even thicker. It’s hard to explain.”

“He was probably napping. You probably woke him up.”

“No. I know what he sounds like when he first gets up in the morning or when he wakes with the baby. It wasn’t that. I know it wasn’t. It’s weird, right? That I notice those things? The changes in his voice? That must seem weird to you.”

“He’s your husband; You spend that long with someone, you notice things. Even the smallest of them.”

“How come you didn’t stay married?” she asks. “Why didn’t any of your wives work out?”

“Marriage isn’t for everyone, sunshine. I happen to be one of those who can’t be married AND happy. I just can’t. Can’t be tied down like that. I like not having to answer to anyone. Doing what I want, when I want.’

“But did you love either of them?”

“Love is...subjective.”

“Humour is subjective. Love is love. You either feel it or you don’t. So did you? Love either of them? Tyler said he liked the second one. What was her name? Kim? He said she was really nice; that she seemed crazy about you. How come you didn’t hang onto her?”

“She was friends with Sarah. His ex. So once they split up for good, it kind of made things difficult between Kim and I. I know he fucked up...HUGE…but I also know what she was like. I know she was always cheating on him and doing him wrong. A lot of us didn’t even think the kid was his.”

Esme arches a brow. “Really?”

“We had our doubts. For good reason, too. He’s never told you that?”

“No. I guess he’s never felt a reason to. But knowing Tyler, it wouldn’t have mattered to him if Austin wasn’t really his. He would have loved him and taken care of him anyway.”

“That big heart of his is going to be his downfall one day.”

“Nik doubted Millie. Hell. I think Tyler even doubted Millie when I first got pregnant. Which is understandable.; I totally didn’t blame him for questioning it. But her? Even when Millie was a baby and even a toddler, she tried putting it in his head that Millie wasn’t his.”

“Which is bullshit,” Koen says. “I mean look at the kid and look at the father.”

“Right? She looks just like him! There’s no way he could ever deny her. Nik’s been a thorn in my side since day one. And I just…” she grimaces and lays a hand against her stomach. “...oh god...I feel so sick.”

“It’s the heat,” Koen reasons. “You shouldn’t be standing out in it like this.”

“It’s everything. The heat, the noise, all the people, the smell of the water...” she draws the neck of her t-shirt over her mouth and nose. “...this isn’t good.”

He moves his hand up to the back of her neck, keeping her moving forward. And when they reach the front of the line, he rummages through her bag for her ID and presents it -along with his own- to the police officer manning the checkpoint.

“Bandha,” the officer orders in Bengali, motioning for Esme to remove the shirt from her face and the ball cap from her head. “Bandha!”

“Now what’s the point of that?” Koen questions. “She’s clearly not the bloke in the picture you got there. She’s clearly not a bloke at all.”

The officer ignores him, pulling a second picture out from underneath the photo of Tyler. A black and white shot of her from the job in Ireland. When she’d sported short, red hair and glasses. And she feels her stomach jump clear into her throat.

“Look, my wife isn’t feeling well,” Koen explains, as he wraps an arm around her shoulders and draws her tight into his side. “We just found out a few days ago that we’re having a baby; our first. And she hasn’t been having a good go of it and the sun’s making it worse. It's obvious she’s not a bloke and she’s definitely not the girl in that picture. So unless you want her throwing up all over the place…”

“I really do feel sick,” she whimpers. “I need to get somewhere to puke.”

“I know, honey,” he presses a kiss to her temple. “And I’m sure this nice policeman understands.”

The officer looks towards the nearest colleague -likely a higher ranked officer -for help. And receives a nod to allow them to pass.

“Have you seen them?” The first officer inquires, showing the two pictures in her face.

“Haven’t seen them a day in my life,” Koen says, and quickly whisks her away.

****

“That was way too fucking close!” Esme finally allows herself a sigh of relief three blocks later, and tucks her hair back under her baseball hat. “Why the hell would they have a picture of me?”

“Asif’s people aren’t stupid. If they know Tyler’s in town, they also know he’s not dumb enough to show his hand just yet. Guess they figured he’d send you in his place.”

“This is fucked. Way more than I first thought it was. How do they even know Tyler is here? Nathan made the most sense as the mole; he disappears and then shows up out of the blue, being held captive by them? A week and a half later? That makes no sense. They would have let us know if they had him. They take pride in shit like that.”

“So you don’t think it’s him now?”

“I still don’t trust him. Something IS shady about him. But he wouldn’t know that Tyler is here. So there has to be someone else; someone on the inside. Two moles.”

“That’s reaching, don’t you think?”

“It’s the only way any of this makes sense. Nathan was the one who told Mahajan’s man where Tyler was that night and what areas of his body to target. They knew, Koen; they knew to go after his shoulder, knee, AND back. They even went after his neck; right where he was shot and the surgeon had to repair that vein. They knew. And then Nathan takes off and doesn’t show up until a week and a half later?”

“But they have him,” he argues.  “Asif’s people. They have him and they’re fucking him up pretty good.”

“It’s all bullshit. I’m sure of it. And there has to be a way to prove it. Tyler can’t just go in there trusting him. He can’t. There has to be a way to find out Nathan is in on this. We just have to figure out what it is.”

“Whoa...whoa...whoa...you and I don’t need to do shit. We’re doing enough being here.”

“I’m going to ask them to let me see him with my own two eyes. When we find out where he is, I want to go in and see him for myself. I’ll know if he’s lying or not.”

“Are you fucking insane?  You can’t go into something like that. That is not your job.”

“If it prevents Tyler from going in and Nathan backstabbing him? I’ll do it.”

“You think he wants you to? You think he wants you to go in there? Put yourself...and that baby...at risk? He’d never allow that.”

“I don’t need his permission.”

“Normally I’d agree with you, but this is fucked. This is a horrible idea. Let someone else figure it out. This is not up to you. You’re doing enough. MORE than enough.”

“But if I…”

“No more,” he orders. “I won’t hear of this. Not a single word more. You mention it again, I will tell him. Hear me?”

“I hear you. I wont talk about it again. It was just an idea.”

“A stupid ass idea.”

She rolls her eyes.

“So what are we looking for?” he inquires, a hand on her shoulder as her eyes scour the market.

“It’s not WHAT I’m looking for. It’s WHO I’m looking for.  And I’m hoping he’s still here.”

“You want to be a little more specific, or…”

“I met a vendor the first time we were here. He sold handmade jewellery. Tyler got me this…” she holds up her right hand; showing off the simple braided leather and beaded bracelet she sports. “...from him. But he’s way more valuable than just his jewellery. He keeps his ear to the ground. BOTH ears. He was able to find out things for me like that…” she snaps her thumb and index finger together. “...and if he’s still here, I’m hoping he can still help.”

“A lot can change in seven years,” Koen reasons.

“Nothing has changed here. It still looks the same, sounds the same, smells the same. That’s where we stayed,”  she nods towards a rundown hotel across the street. “Third floor, second room. The balcony that has the rug hanging over the railing. THAT hasn’t even changed. I bet the toilet is still broken and I bet they haven’t painted the dirty walls or put in a proper shower head. Nothing’s changed; not a goddamn thing.”

For several minutes she searches the market. Attempting to blend in with the other shoppers; making small talk with both buyers and vendors, picking up various objects and studying them, purchasing  food items for the safe house and small trinkets that would appeal to the kids. Koen sticks close to her side; hand never leaving the small of her back, never speaking yet offering pleasant smiles and nods in greeting.

“Here! Over here!” she suddenly exclaims, grabbing him by the wrist and yanking him behind her. Pausing at a vendor tucked alongside of a busy laundry, nervously rocking back and forth on her heels chewing on her bottom lip as she waits for the owner to finish up with a customer. And she notices the look on the older man’s face when he regards her; his eyes narrowed and head tilted to the side. And she sees the glimmer of recognition. “Do you remember me?” she asks. “I know you’ve seen a lot of people since we met, but…” she removes her head and shakes her hair free. “...do you? When we first met, you commented on my hair. About how long it was and how the sun made the red in it sparkle. Do you remember?”

A bright, wide smile spreads from ear to ear. “My friend!” he gleefully cries, and hurries around the side of the table to warmly embrace her. “You haven’t changed a bit!” He presses a kiss to each cheek. “As beautiful as ever!”

“Thank you. But believe me, I’ve changed a lot. How are you? You look wonderful.  Life’s been treating you kind?”

“It’s been fair to me. I can’t complain. Well I could,  but no one would listen,” he chuckles. “You’re back! In Dhaka?”

“Just for a few days. For work.”

“And your husband? He is still your husband?”

“He is. He is still hanging in there. We have five kids now.”

“Five children! Big family. Last time I saw you, you just had the one. A little girl.”

“Amelia. Millie. She just turned six. And she’s so smart and so beautiful. She looks just like her daddy. They’re back at the hotel; the kids wanted to go swimming and he offered to stay behind to take them.”

“Good guy that one!”

“Yeah, he is. A very good guy.And this is my brother. Kyle.” She lays a hand on Koen’s shoulder. “The one I told you about.”

“The fireman?”

“That’s me,” Koen smiles, abandoning his accent  and shaking the hand offered to him. “Thought I’d keep little sis company.”

“I was wondering if you could help us.” Esme says, and begins admiring and surveying items for sale when she notices curious bystanders watching them intently. “I could really, really, REALLY use your help.”

“With what?”

“I need information. Do you still have an ear to the ground? You still have people you can trust?”

He nods.

“Have you seen the picture floating around? The man everyone is looking for? The mercenary?”

“Looks very much like your husband. I only saw him with a  hat on when he was here though. And sunglasses. So I couldn’t say for sure. I didn’t think it was him. A mercenary? That doesn’t seem like a job for someone like him. He was always so friendly and good to me.”

“His name is Tyler Rake. My husband. And he IS a mercenary. Seven years ago, we came here to find a kid that had been taken by Amir Asif.”

“Mahajan’s kid?”

“That’s why we were here. And we found him and everything went to shit. All that trouble on the bridge? That was us. That was ALL us. And I need your help again. And I’m willing to pay. I’m willing to pay VERY well.”

“What do you need?”

“Amir Asif is dead, but in some ways, he’s very much alive. I know he has people trying to avenge him. Carrying on his business. And they've grabbed friends of ours.”

“A woman and a teenage boy,” the vendor says. “And a mercenary.”

“I work for the people that want them back. I need to get word to Asif’s people that I’m in town and I’m ready to negotiate. That I have access to the money they asked for, but I’d rather talk first. And I need proof of life. For all three.”

The vendor nods slowly.

“Can you do it? Get the word out? To the right people?”

“I can.”

“But will you. Will you do that for me?”

“I will.”

“I need it done right away. As soon as I walk away. It’s important it gets done right away.”  She reaches into her bag and pulls out a pen and small notebook, tossing open the cover and hastily scribbling her cell number. “Tell them to text first. They text with a number that  I or one of my people can call. Tell them we want to talk and start negotiations. ASAP. But  nothing will happen unless we see with our own eyes that everyone is alive. That is the only way they’ll get what they want. Tell them I’m in charge. Not them. And that I’ll give them their money, but I’m NOT giving them the man they want. That’s non negotiable and it’s never going to happen.”  She tears the paper from the notebook, then removes a hundred dollars from her wallet and hands both to the vendor. “Thank you.”

“This is too much!” he exclaims. “Way too much! You are too generous!”

“You deserve way more than that, believe me. Thank you. You have no idea how much this means  to me.”

“At least take something.” he says. “For yourself. Your children. Especially your little girl.”

Selecting three  bracelets -for herself, Millie, and Addie-, she slips her hat back onto her head and bids farewell, giving an appreciative smile and a small wave as other customers approach.   And she grabs  Koen tightly by the hand as they slip into the crowd.

*****

He doesn’t hear the phone until it’s on the second ring, and he hastily  rinses the soap and shampoo from his body and hair, leaving the water running as he tosses open the door. Wincing and limping as he hurries across the room and grabs the cell from the ledge of the sink. He’d thought a shower - alternating between ice cold and steaming hot- would help alleviate both the fogginess in his brain and the multitude of aches inhabiting his body. But so far it’s done nothing.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.”  Relief rushes through him at the sound of her voice. Much calmer...brighter...than it was the first time around. “We just got back to the car. It didn’t start out too good though.”

He uses his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear and snags a towel from the back of the door, loosely wrapping it around his waist. “What happened?”

“They had my picture. At the checkpoint.”

“What the fuck..”

“It was an old one. From Ireland. When I had glasses and my hair was red and short. I almost passed out, I swear.  And I had my hat on and my shirt over my mouth and nose because the smell of the water was going to make me puke and they were going to make me take both off.”

“Jesus Christ…”

“Koen handled it. He told them I was his wife and that it was pretty obvious that I wasn’t the guy or the girl in the pictures. That I was pregnant and feeling sick and unless they wanted me puking everywhere, they’d let me through.”

“And they bought it?”

“Yup. But that was a close call. Way too close. And then I saw  Farhad. On the way back across the bridge.”

“Did he see you?”

“No. I pretended I needed to tie my shoe and by the time I stood back up, he was past us already. I swear...when I saw him...I have never been that angry in my entire life. I know he was just a kid when he almost killed you, but I was so fucking angry. He’s out there walking around like nothing ever happened and meanwhile he’s caused so many fucking problems! If you run into him, you better end him once and for all.”

He uses a second towel to vigorously rub at his hair as he heads out into the bedroom. “Esme…”

“I mean it, Tyler. I won’t have peace until he’s dead. He’s not a kid anymore. There’s no reason to spare him now.”

“Baby, that’s revenge.”

“And sometimes revenge is needed. And I need it. I need that peace of mind that I haven’t had in seven years. So if you run into him…”

“What’s the chances of that? That I’ll actually run into him?”  He hasn’t told her about Farhad’s involvement in Neysa and Aarav’s capture, or the pain and suffering he’s been inflicting on them.  Nothing good will come of that; it will serve only to stoke that already simmering fury and need for revenge that’s been eating away at her for seven years.

“What’s the chances I’d run into him on the bridge?”

He sighs, then grabs his discarded jeans from the back of the chair by the window.

“That little bastard is still out there, walking around. Look at the damage he’s caused. To you. To me. To us. He shouldn’t get away with that. He deserves to pay for what he did. HE NEEDS to pay.”

“You’re just working yourself up. That’s the let down from the adrenaline talking. Or the hormones. Maybe a mix of both. In an hour you won’t feel this way.”

“I’ve felt this way for seven years. It’s not just going to go away. Not unless I know he’s gone.”

“We’ll talk about this when you get back. Talk. Not fight. There’s no sense getting into it now. Everything else went okay?”

“I got the word out. I don’t think we’ll have to wait very long.”

“You’re fucking amazing. And I love you. So much.”

“I love you too.  I just wanted to let you know that we’re okay. I know you were probably worrying yourself sick. And Koen did a great job. He kept an eye on me; not a single hair on my hair was disturbed.”

“So he lives to see another day.”

“Basically,” she laughs. “I’ll see you soon.”

“You definitely will,” he assures her, then presses END on his cell.

****

“That was pretty fucking intense,” Koen declares, as he guns the ignition and peels out of the clearing, leaving a cloud of dirt and dust in his wake.

“Right? I nearly peed myself a couple of times. You saved my ass on that bridge. And you go to live out one of your fantasies.  You got me to be your wife for a few minutes.”

“I would have preferred a few minutes of something else, if you know what I mean.”

“Well you’ll have to keep dreaming about THAT. I’m a one man woman. You’ll have to live vicariously through him.”

“Lucky bastard,” Koen grumbles.

“He knows it too. But I’m pretty lucky myself. That’s something I should probably tell him more often. Even hard asses  probably like to feel appreciated once in a while.”

“You ask me, you SHOW him how much you appreciate him.”

She smiles at that.

“So that was him? The guy on that bridge. That was Farhad?”

“Yeah,” Esme nods. “That was him. The little prick that shot Tyler in the neck. From behind. A total bitch move.”

“He looks like a little bitch.”

“That kid almost took everything from me before it even started. He’s the reason I can’t let go of that place. The things I saw, the things I had to do? That’s all because of that fucking kid. And I can’t forgive him and I can’t move on; I can’t leave the place behind if he’s still here. I just can’t. What if Tyler did die that day? I would have gone home and found out about Millie and I would have gone through it all by myself.   She never would have known her dad. I wouldn’t even have had a picture to show her. All that I would have had was those five days in Dhaka. Those memories of it. That’s it.”

“But he DIDN'T die,” Koen points out. “He made it. Because of you. If you hadn’t stepped up and put your ass on the line…”

“Don’t do that,” she begs. “Don’t put me on a pedestal. I did what I had to do because I felt he deserved to live. And because selfishly, I wanted more time with him. But I don’t deserve praise and I don’t deserve praise for doing something anyone would have done.”

“Not anyone would have done it and you know that. You saved him. And not just on that bridge, either.”

“I just don’t feel comfortable with it; people thanking me and praising me and thinking so highly of me. Tyler deserved to live and that’s why I did it.  Because he’d more than made up for the mistakes he’d made and he deserved another chance.”

“And not everybody would see it that way, either. Would see HIM that way.”

“Well I saw him that way. I’ll always see him that way. And that’s why I want revenge. For him.”

“You want the  kid to die?”

Esme nods. “And if that makes me a bad person, so be it. But it’ll give me peace. I’ll finally be able to let go of this place. I NEED to let go of it.”

“I’ll do it,” Koen offers. “I’ll take care of the kid. For Tyler. For you.”

“You’d do that? For us?”

“Yeah,” he says. “I would.”

[feministdragon]

okay, so here's this fantastic rant that I want to share

http://gaslitnation.libsyn.com/mafia-state-usa  

https://www.gaslitnationpod.com/episodes-transcripts-20/2019/11/19/mafia-state-usa-1

@44:50

Andrea Chalupa: There was a study how in political journalism white men talked to other white men and women get shut out of the conversation, and therefore women are locked out essentially of being prominent political journalists. There are very few of us. And there's no greater example of that than just now, Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo and Jon Favreau of Pod Save America saying that I am the former DNC contractor who has been called before the House. Andrea Chalupa.  [It’s Alexandra Chalupa, her sister]

Sarah Kendzior: [laughter] Oh my God.

Andrea Chalupa: And I'm sort of like, wait a minute, you guys. I want to say to Josh Marshall and John Favreau of Pod Save America: the Kremlin, the Kremlin can tell me and my sister apart, which is why we in America here, our media, and our government has been played so successfully by the Kremlin. If you here in America cannot even tell that my sister and I are two very different people, what is wrong with you? How can we trust you to accurately, successfully, effectively cover one of the greatest crimes in human history? Get it straight. On the heels of the Steele dossier being dropped by BuzzFeed, Putin's Sean Hannity did a segment on how my sister created the Trump Russia scandal and how I helped her. The only solace I took in that was that, "Okay, well, at least the Kremlin is smart enough to know that we're two different people. I wish my own media would catch up."

Sarah Kendzior: Yeah, I mean, it's pathetic. It's a sign of their laziness. It's a sign of their incompetence, but their incompetence puts people's lives at risk.

Andrea Chalupa: It's a sign of their arrogance. It's a sign of their arrogance. We've had this show for a year. We have members of Congress that follow this show. We've had outreach from members of Congress. We've had impact with what we've had to say. And yet our colleagues in the political journalism world, we don't register with them. We don't count on their radar, because they're busy talking to each other. If we were two men that launched a successful podcast within a year, there's over half a million podcasts out there. Very few rise to the surface. Gaslit Nation within a year was able to do so, within its first few episodes was able to do so. Our trailer announcing the show went viral. If we were two men who managed this on our own, we would have profiles written about us. Instead, Sarah and I continue to be ignored, even though we're at the center of this and our lives are threatened by this and we're getting harassment and phishing emails and other things as a result of the reporting we're doing. And yet, we're still continually sidelined by our colleagues who are also covering the story.

Sarah Kendzior: Right, and it's only by a certain type of colleague, to be honest. It's by rich white men who live in New York and D.C., because we do have a very large audience. We have a very diverse audience. We have an international audience. You have a movie; I have a bestselling book. We both do media appearances regularly. Like, we're not exactly languishing in obscurity. What I find frustrating about this is like, you know, I certainly do not need the validation of like Pod Save America, or, God help me, Josh Marshall to get through my day. I can live without that. What is frustrating is that the information that we're putting out there is coming months in advance of other publications and that it's because of our expertise, because we both spent our lives studying the former Soviet Union. And of course, in your case, your sister is caught up in this whole mess. And so when we come out in April and May with warnings about Giuliani's activity in Ukraine and about how he is the new Manafort and about everything else that we were like, "Please, Congress, look at this. Please, U.S. media with more resources and money than us. You need to look at this. You need to examine this, or we're going to end up with something like, oh, I don't know, Trump conducting an extortion scheme in July." Maybe if you would actually pay attention to what's going on and listen to people who have experience with this region, despite the fact that we happen to be women, maybe you’ll fucking know a thing or too, instead of just running out your mouth like, "Wow, I can't figure out why in the world Trump is connected to Putin." It's like, holy fucking shit, man. Like, there are books about this. Like there are books, you know, there are books written by me, but there are books written by many other people. There are television shows run by women like Rachel Maddow or Joy Reid that have been documenting this for years. You've got to catch up. You suck at your job. Like, either quit your job or catch up, because lives are on the line.

Freedom of speech is one of the few weapons that we have at our disposal that we more or less control. Free speech, free media. Guess what? It's probably not going to last forever, so it's your duty as an American citizen, as a journalist, to try to inform the public. And if your information is marred by your inability to actually consider women as human beings and listen to their expertise, then we're in a lot of trouble, because as we see again, as they pointed out in the beginning of the show, people who are bringing the truth forward are often women. It is Fiona Hill. It's the U.S. ambassador to Ukraine. It's whistleblowers like Reality Winner. It's the journalists I just mentioned. And it's a very consistent phenomenon of being marginalized in this discussion. And again, this is not about ego. We've been around long enough that we really don't give a fuck. It's about facts.

Andrea Chalupa: It's about facts. Let me break it down to you like this. So I have a friend who is an executive coach, and she said that her clients primarily come from mediocre white men who are so shocked that they keep getting promoted that they need help managing the extra responsibilities, and women who are doing all the work and never being promoted. That's her client pool.

Sarah Kendzior: And that's how things are. That's how things are in the United State of America.

Andrea Chalupa: That's political journalism. That's journalism. That's government. That's the space we're in.

Sarah Kendzior: And we encourage women to just keep speaking out and keep telling your stories and to, you know, if you can, run your own podcast or your own publication. Like, media is dying. We've seen a gutting of independent journalism. We're losing outlets right and left. The mainstream media is largely co-opted not just by government pressure, but by corporate constraints. We have barriers to entry where you have to be quite wealthy a lot of times to work for a pittance at one of these prestigious publications in the most expensive cities in America. We've got one out of every four journalists living in a very expensive place, while people like Missouri can afford to shoot their mouths off. And so I just encourage, you know, I don't want women to listen to this and feel discouraged, feel like no one's going to listen to them, because that's a really funny thing. Every day I get probably a hundred to a thousand tweets of people saying that, you know, "No one listens to Sarah Kendzior." [laughter] I'm like, well, if no one's listening to me, why are my mentions just an endless stream of people telling me that no one listens to me? And really, the key word in that sentence is "no one," because what they mean by "no one" is wealthy, white men, because everybody else is listening and is, you know, quite aware. It's this very narrow group, a kind of tyranny of the minority within journalism that, you know, part of it is they cannot come to grips with the breakdown of American exceptionalism. They cannot come to grips with the fact that they missed the story. They missed the boat. This all went right over their head while they were busy rambling on about Hillary's emails and how she was destined to win the election and all the other shit they got wrong. They cannot handle that. It's incredibly humiliating, because our very existence is a slap in the face to that establishment. And it's like, well, you know what, tough shit. We're all on the same sinking boat. We're all Americans living under this incredibly corrupt administration. We should all be trying to do our part to get the facts to the people. So yeah, I'll leave it at that.

Andrea Chalupa: And let's end it with Elizabeth Warren. You have Biden potentially crumbling as a frontrunner because he doesn't have what it takes. And it's just a simple fact of Biden not reading the room, not being part of the zeitgeist right now and giving the terrorist organization fueled by blood money—the Republican Party—way too much credit, saying that if only the Republicans can free themselves of Trump, we can have a united country. The Republican Party created Donald Trump. They are complicit. They're all in this together. This was the inevitable. The Trump Frankenstein monster was the inevitability of the Republicans party's ideology of hate, which has been growing in this country for so long, and so Biden's not reading the room. And what you're having is this emergence of Elizabeth Warren. Elizabeth Warren has been doing such an incredible job in having this common-sense platform where she has these plans on how she's going to confront the corruption that allowed Donald Trump to come to power. Elizabeth Warren is framing the debate accurately that the 2020 election is going to be about corruption. It's just corruption, plain and simple, and that is what her plans are about, is tackling gross income inequality, tackling the inhumane policies in America, where people are continuing to fall through the cracks as a society where any sort of health problem can make you lose your house and go bankrupt. And yet, you have a cable news bubble that continues to demonize her because they are afraid of losing their own power. What we're hearing on cable news is the familiar sound that all women know, and that is the entitled scream of the mediocre white man, because they know that we are coming for them because they have had power for far too long and they did not use it responsibly. So now nobody, nobody gives up power willingly, especially idiots. So what we need to do is arm ourselves with our grassroots armies, wait for nobody to save us but ourselves and show up, and show up for each other, and do not give in to their gaslighting. Elizabeth Warren has what it takes. She's a well-balanced candidate, and she has solutions to all of the social ills that gave rise of Donald Trump. And she understands. She has called the enemy by name, and the enemy is corruption.

Sarah Kendzior: Absolutely. And you know, on the final note, what they were chastising Warren for this week was being, quote, "angry and antagonistic." Which, quite honestly, I'm glad she's angry. She's angry at injustice. She's angry at the corruption of billionaires who are influencing and breaking our institutions, who have run this nation roughshod. And so yeah, she's antagonistic toward them. To be clear, she's not alone in this. You see this kind of rage from Sanders, you saw it from Beto O'Rourke, you see it sometimes from Kamala Harris, from Julian Castro. You see it from many of the candidates, and it's a good thing. We should be angry right now. That type of anger is a form of compassion. It is the opposite of hate or spite. It is the opposite of apathy, and I think people oppose this, people in the media from high positions of power who have been entrenched in that power despite their lack of merit, because it makes them very uncomfortable. It reminds them that there is an alternative to godlessness and to moral failure, and so I encourage all the candidates to continue speaking out in the way Warren has, and I encourage female journalists and other female activists to keep speaking out despite these sexist caricatures and attacks, and this insistence that we play nice, because quite honestly, there's a difference between nice and good, and I think that what we need to do is do good, is do things that are morally sound, things that are beneficial and helpful to vulnerable people, instead of just valuing this, quote-unquote "civility" above all else, because all civility is is a cloak for corruption.

[socksual-innuendos]

So I was tagged by @yesjejunus for this and I’m doing a joint interview with Emi and Cam because why not. Art is also by yesjejunus

What is your name?

E: Who’s askin? C: Camila, and that's my sister Emilia.

How old are you?

E: Old enough to be your mother. Who’s askin?? C: 48, but I don’t really feel it. 

What do you look like?

E: Oh, good, I have jokes for this. ‘Why not just check my mug shot’ or 'Who is this interview for, the blind?’ oh! How about ‘use your damn eyes’?

C: Oh, ugh...well I use to have black hair and my skin wasn’t so...the way that it is, haha. Can we please move to the next question?

Where are you from? Where do you live now?

C: Mexico! I don’t remember much of it, actually. I mean I do but not enough of one place. We moved around a lot and most of it just looked like the wastes here. I don’t remember being told when we had made it into America, I don’t think it really clicked until we were half way through Arizona. We still moved around once we made it into the States and up until a few months ago we didn’t have a home. But we sort of do now! Right Em?

E: Yeah, we’ll see.

What was your childhood like?

E: Just like everyone else’s in some ways. Good at times, shitty at times, getting into way too much trouble at times. Heh, you know, the usual kid stuff and more.

C: Even when papa was around we still stayed with host families. Emi and Abuelita always seemed to be out doing something, mostly work I think, not that I could ever join them. When I was real little I would get sick so much. Papa wouldn’t let me out unsupervised, but he did trust Emi to take me places. Once he was gone things got a lot more strict. I think the host families didn’t want to chance me getting hurt or more sick. Abuelita agreed with them, but Emi would sneak me out and we’d play. 

What groups are you friendly with? Are you allied with any factions?

E: I’m friendly with plenty, whether or not they’re friendly with me is their problem. I guess the Chairmen are fine with me, BAH! I know the Omertas have it out for me, and if those damn pretentious White Chode Society fucks didn’t make a steak as good as they do they’d be a hole in the ground. Who else is there? No one that matters I guess-- Wait, those Boomers might be batshit but they know how to have a party! 

C: Oh! I’d like to think I’m friends with the Chairmen, but they’re really just my employers. Swank is nice, a bit of a flirt but he’s like that with everyone. Tommy is sweet too! He can be tough during practice but I can’t fault him for that. Although Emi doesn’t really like them I love the White Glove Society! They really make you feel like royalty-- And their spa is amazing. There’s nowhere like it in the world I swear. I just really enjoy their casino....Um, other than that I don’t really know any other factions. The Kings are funny, but Emi doesn’t really want me in Freeside without her or Cass or Arcade. She also says I am absolutely not to go near Gomorrah. I’ll admit I’m curious but it doesn’t really seem like a place you’d want to wear open toed shoes, you know?

Tell me about your best friend.

E: Only got Camila and Raul, really. Arcade’s good, a bit too idealistic for his age but whatever keeps you goin. Cass is pretty independent, but it’s part of why I like her. 

C: I have so many now! There’s Veronica, she’s probably the closest I’m to, oh and Sarah. I love my sister dearly but she was never into girlish things. But I have those two now! And they love doing all that stuff. Swank gives me a hard time when he comes around The Aces, but it’s all in good fun. Arcade is teaching me how to do computers, and it’s really helping with the Vault hotel. He’s a bit prickly but he still wants to teach me. I really do love them! I know she’s pretty defensive about our living space but I’m glad Emilia includes them in the 38, this place gets too big and lonely without people. 

Do you have a family? Tell me about them!

E: Cam’s all I need. And Raul’s here now. The others are nice to have around but...Family’s special. 

C: There use to be more of us...I never knew mom but Emi’s told me of her. Xiomara was my abuelita’s name, and my papa was around only when I was little. Then there was-- well, it’s not my place to say. Oh, but I have Raul now too. And Veronica, and Arcade, n Cass, Boone....they count. To me they do. 

What about a partner or partners?

E: Nope. Don’t need one. Not in that sense anyway. I don’t mind having regular lovers, but I don’t get attached like that. Friends suit me just fine. 

C: Not for me no. I mean I haven’t really thought of anyone like that...I haven’t really had the chance to. I mean I’ve thought about it before but nothing serious and definitely not at anyone in particular. I think it would be nice...but I’m just not sure. 

Who are your enemies, and why?

E: Enemies? Now why would anyone want to be enemies with me, I am nothing short of a delight. Although, I will say the Garrets’ opinions of me vary with how hefty my tab is. 

C: I really hope I don’t have enemies. I just got friends! One thing at a time please.

Have you ever heard of The Brotherhood of Steel? What do you think about them?

E: Brotherhood of Kiss My Ass! Don’t get me wrong, they have cool shit and I love their archives but as long as New Vegas is what it is and as long as they do how they do, I hate them. 

C: Veronica’s told me a lot about them. Aside from the obvious, um, flaws, they sound interesting. I know Emi loves history stuff...This seems really complicated...

What about The Enclave?

E: Never heard of ‘em.

C: The who now?

How do you feel about Super Mutants?

C: I haven’t had the chance to properly meet any. Emi says some are like us and that others are just mindless and violent. We had heard about Jacobstown, that’s part of the reason we’re up here actually. Apparently its a home for the mutated. It sounded like a good idea at first-- it certainly was a smart one but...I like Vegas.

E: Tough sonsofbitches. They have no right being as fast as they are. Clumsy in close combat though. 

What’s the craziest fight you’ve ever been in?

E: Well, it wasn’t the craziest but I did get in a scuff with a mark’s security guard on top of a building. We ended up rolling off, and when I tried grappling my leg had tangled in my climbing cable-- That’s what fucked up my knee-- I ended up hitting the side of the building, having the wind knocked out of me, and then alerted the rest of the security team of an intruder when I broke a window to get back inside. Trying to get out of there with a dislocated knee was probably one of the best and worst adrenaline rushes I’ve had. 

C: Once Rosa and I had a really big miscommunication. I think that was the first time we ever got legitimately mad at each other. She ran off too cool down but I got worried and ah-- Um, things turned out fine, thankfully. Yeah.

Have you ever fought a Deathclaw?

E: Several, actually. Wait-- Ha! Actually, ask Arcade about this, I’m sure he’d love to tell you the story. 

C: Heavens no! I haven’t even seen one outside of pictures. They look terrifying, and Emilia says they’re very territorial and very aggressive. Hopefully I never have to. Although, Emi has said if I’ve ever wanted to see one we could go to the Thorn but animal fights? That seems needlessly cruel.

Do you like fighting?

E: Hell yeah! 

C: I don’t have the energy for conflict. I’d much rather talk it out, like adults. [Camila glares at Emilia]

What’s your weapon of choice?

E: Depends on the job. I love my sniper rifle, but sometimes a trick shot doesn’t have the right flair to it. It’s really about reading the situation and seeing whats available. Sure, you can blast someone’s brains out 2,000 meters away but where’s the fun in distance if no one knows how far it really is. Now, making a big deal out of a target, there’s the fun. You have to personalize each kill, let the mark and the world how premeditated it was. No, it didn’t have to be that complicated, but it was and someone put the effort in. That’s the sort of thing that let’s people know you’re better than them. 

C: I suppose a mic. I’m not really trained in anything, and I don’t really have a preference towards a weapon? Emi really should teach me but last time I brought it up...I’ll ask Raul.

How do you survive? Your wits, your charm, your skills, brute force, some combination? (a.k.a. what’s your S.P.E.C.I.A.L?)

E: It’s all skill baby. I give a prayer and Lord willing I succeed. That and a quick wit is all I need. (S5, P9, E6, C7, I6, A10, L0)

C: I mostly relied on Emilia to survive. Things have been complicated in the past, but she did what she needed to do. I try to be as polite and accommodating as I can though, at the very least people leave you alone if you’re not causing trouble. I got a job at the Vault 21 hotel! It doesn’t get as busy as the other places on the Strip, but it’s still something!  (S2, P6, E3, C10, I6, A3, L9)

Have you ever been in a vault? What do you think about them?

C: I work at a Vault! Sort of. It’s a hotel now and it’s been mostly destroyed....Sarah’s a bit afraid to be open about it, given how ‘gracious’ Mr. House was, but from what she said it was much more homey when she was little. She’s also told me about Vault life. I guess growing up underground really makes the concept easier huh? I hate being cooped up, but a roof always over her suits her just fine. ‘Though, I guess if the Vaults are as big as she says they were there would be plenty to do inside but...still...

E: I’ve been in a lot. It’s...humbling. All of them have their own unique story and connections to the old world. Reading about some of these people, their lives, their struggles? It’s like looking into other worlds. The dangers out in the wastes are one thing, its nature of man’s sin or the world’s design, but in the Vaults? It can be paradise or tailored evil. When man plays God, everyone suffers. But I suppose they were use to that kind of living. It is life, no? Just like out here. But even then, most of the time Vaults were safe. For those who first stepped out, they left that and saw nothing but, well, this. I can't imagine not having been able to grow up out here. It's shaped me, made me strong, and I can survive because of it. I don't lament my life being hard, like I said it's made me who I am, but I can't help but put myself in their shoes. Having to learn all this after a life in a Vault? That is a cruelty on its own.

How do you beat all the radiation around here? Has it affected you?

C: Well, you can see how it’s effected me. I’m just like any other ghoul I guess. Oh...I don’t think I’ll ever be ready for when my skin really starts to come off. Oh-- Ah! One good thing I suppose! I no longer get sick. I mean, I still get the fatigue and pain but I don’t get colds like I use to. That alone lets me do more than I could when I was a kid. Bright sides, right?

E: I don’t have an extra arm yet, so I don’t think its effected me much. I try to keep radaway on me though, it always has it’s uses. 

What’s your favorite wasteland critter?

C: Oh I love bloatflies! They’d kind of ugly, but also sort of cute? Just like me!

E: I’ll admit I have a certain fondness for our nightstalker Sawyer. There’s intelligence behind those eyes...well, some semblance of it anyway. Still, she’s here for a reason. Although...they’re not very common up here-- actually I don’t think I’ve seen any up here, but frogs. I really really love frogs. 

What’s your least favorite wasteland critter?

C: RADROACHES. I don’t see too many creatures thankfully but these manage to get everywhere and I hate it!

E: Centaurs are some unholy creation of man and should be purged from this life and the next. They and feral ghouls...I say a prayer for them before I pull the trigger. Whomever they were before they didn’t deserve that.

How do you feel about robots?

E: They’re fine for the most part. Just bits and bobs that can sometimes have a personality, although I’ve seen some being used to cheat death. Those ones are abominations. 

C: Yesman! Oh I love him. Ah, I’ve met other robots before too but I never got to know them well. Vegas doesn’t seem to have much aside from securitrons, though.  

How many caps do you have on you right now?

C: A lot more than what we--

E: That is absolutely none of their business!

Nuka Cola or Sunset Sarsaparilla?

E: Sarsaparilla, easily. 

C: Emi just says that because nuka give her hives!

Do you do chems?

C: Emi made me swear never to touch Med-X. She told me it’s stronger than the stuff we use but nowhere near worth the addiction. I’ve seen some of what she means, so I don’t plan on breaking that promise. Colitas are just fine for me. 

E: Some of ‘em yeah. Mostly for work though. Heh, I even make my own brand of kick in the ass. Yeah...Flake’ll get you through just about anything. The high’s crazy but the crash is insane. I mostly prefer the natural stuff. Peyote comes in handy when I need a good bit of life insight.

Do you ever think about the Pre-War world?

E: A lot actually. It’s quite interesting, they lived a lot differently than us but at the same time not. It’s funny to see how routine human nature is. 

C: Sometimes. Emi still brings back old world books that she finds and I read them when I feel like it. The one’s with photographs are nice. A snapshot in time, as Emi says. She certainly finds them more interesting than I do. 

What’s your deepest regret? What would you do differently?

C: I was very insistent one night, and I wish I hadn’t been. Things would have been different if I had just stayed in bed.  

E: Ha! You are asking an assassin what their biggest regret it. There is nothing, I assure you. 

What’s your biggest achievement? Or what do you hope to achieve?

C: I got a job! I have a home, I have friends. I’m...normal. Ha!

E: Ah hell, give me a minute to think of the nastiest bastard I’ve ever ‘in’directly put into power...

What do you want for the future? For yourself? Your friends? The world?

E: I’m getting old, I don’t need a future. And I’m just one person, the world will go on when I’m dead. Cam though, she’s got what? Centuries? That’s a long fuckin time to think about. Raul’s tried to tell me what it’s like but it just feels-- It just doesn’t click. No way in hell I’m making it that long. I just have to figure some way of making this place as secure as possible for Camila.

C: I just want to be independent! I love Emi dearly but she’s a bit much at times. Especially now...and I’m scared I won’t be able to do a lot on my own once she’s gone. Vegas is good for me. I have friends here and there’s jobs that I can manage. Even if Emi wants to move again, I’m staying. I have to. I have a future here, I can see it. 

[justangrymacaroni]

Rachel Elizabeth Dare: An Essay

(a.k.a. a discussion of the portrayal of strong female characters and their relationship with fandom, canon, and a whole bunch of other shit i wanted to scream about at 1:50 am)

it really Rattles My Gears that a character as cool as Rachel Elizabeth fucking Dare is constantly thrown under the bus.

“Percy Jackson and Rachel Dare had a really genuine and cool friendship that became obsolete as soon as Rachel was no longer a potential love interest for him” -- @ofswordsandpens​ 

i’m gonna take it a step further and argue that Rachel stopped being a relevant character in the story as soon as she “lost” the role of a potential love interest. not to mention the fact that fandom seemed to collectively h a t e her ass because of that potential love interest. WHY THO? 

let’s fucking discuss.

unfortunately, no discussion about Rachel can occur without the mention of the ship of the century. percabeth. i’m going to assume that percabeth shares its origins with the pjo series itself, allllll the way back in 2005. (holy shit).

2005 fandoms were a LOT different than the fandoms we see today. remember, this was before DashCon, the Mishapocalypse, “fandoms grab your weapons”, and everything else that sort of.....gave fandoms a bit of a wakeup call. not that there was anything inherently wrong with it initially, but there was a shift.

2005 was before that shift.

the original pjo series percabeth romance followed a familiar young adult romance trope: boy and girl meet. girl is strong willed. boy is relatable. girl hates boy. they are thrust together through magical/extraneous circumstances. they become friends. then best friends. then hopelessly in love--BUT WAIT THE WORLD IS ENDING OH NO.

but what makes percabeth so popular? what makes it different from the other tropes we’ve seen? i think the answer lies in the characterization. sure, the tropes are there, but the characters sort of rise above them. annabeth and percy exist independently of each other. their relationship is healthy in that they are able to support each other without completely being reliant one another. 

but i think the most significant part of all this, especially in concerns to Rachel, is that annabeth and percy grew up alongside the readers. as the characters  aged, their actions and thoughts--a.k.a the writing style over time--became more nuanced. the stakes rose, the conflict became complicated. and their relationship progressed relatively slowly, meaning the ship had plenty of time to grow in canon and fandom.

enter Rachel Elizabeth Dare. her character at the very beginning didn’t have any obvious romantic implications. percy runs into her, they chat, there’s a monster, she gives him her number, and BAM. done. she’s gone until the next book.

but within that short amount of time, she is brilliantly characterized. her actions and thoughts are unique from what we’ve seen. she’s funny, demanding, sarcastic, and brave as fuck. 

next book comes out and “uh oh, she’s a love interest!!!! KILL HER BURN HER FUCKING ANNABETH AND PERCY ARE FOREVERWELHKWJGBKHWKJEK”

wtf.

let’s talk about annabeth and Rachel. i argue that fandom loves annabeth for the same reasons they hate Rachel.

she doesn’t put up with anyone’s shit 

annabeth: she’s tough and kicks ass!

Rachel: she’s mean.

she doesn’t put up with PERCY’S shit

annabeth: she’s so funny lol she’s the yin to his yang

Rachel: she’s mean and wrong for him.

she fights, even when people tell her no

annabeth: (example--not wanting to be given dummy questions from the sphinx) she’s smart and independent, she has her own mind and she uses it

Rachel: (example--flying into a demigod battle to warn the others) omg she’s a MORTAL why is she constantly bursting into this story? she’s annoying!!!

sadly, most of the reasons behind the fandom’s dislike of Rachel lie with her relationship to percy, in that people don’t want her to be in a relationship with percy.

but let’s fucking stop talking about percy FOR JUST ONE SECOND.

Rachel is an awesome character. she can see through the mist, and it’s because of this that she wants to learn more about half-bloods, not some hot guy she ran into once. like she says herself, percy was only such a fascination for her because he opened a door to an amazing world. she didn’t need him to be a part of that world.

(ok now we’re done talking about percy)

Rachel Elizabeth Dare has shown time and time again to go above and beyond what was needed from her. examples include walking into the labryinth to help some kids she barely knew, getting in a fucking helicopter and flying into a monster god battle, and allowing herself to be possessed by an ancient prophet spirit-ghost-thing.

she does all this because she wants to, because that’s who she is. she’s the girl that covered herself in gold paint for an art movement. she’s the girl who demanded to learn more about terrifying monsters and kids with swords. she’s the girl who threw a blue hairbrush at kronos.

not to mention how compelling her story is. a mortal who can lift a curse on an ancient prophet??? WHAT??? as soon as the love triangle is over, she’s gone. and i’m So Mad About That because she was so interesting! she goes off to private school while possessed, and thaT’S ALL WE KNOW????

it pisses me off how a character only seems to exist for a romantic subplot, but i’m used to it.

now, what’s really interesting is how this affects female characters in fandom. i can’t say male characters, because while they can be entirely subjected to this “i exist for the romance” trope--gayle from hunger games, bella’s high-school guy friend from twilight, hermione’s quidditch boyfriend holy shit i’m forgetting his name--when it comes to fandom, the girls are treated worse.

i’m going to cut to the chase and tell you why. internalized misogyny is a tricky thing. it can lead you to see a female character solely through her relationship to the male counterpart. it does not matter if she has wants, aspirations, or independent thoughts outside of that relationship. 

when it comes to shipping, she’s not even a character. she’s a threat. female characters are trashed mercilessly in canon and fandom when it comes to this.

look at mary watson’s and irene adler’s treatment in the johnlock fandom.

look at how lavender brown was viewed back in the old harry potter days.

look at all the dead girls from supernatural.

look at martha from dr. who.

skyler from breaking bad.

betty from mad men.

meg from supernatural.

rachel from glee.

guinevere from merlin.

mercedes from glee.

lana lang from smallville.

iris from flash.

terra from young justice.

and on and on and on and on and on

just. Yikes.

from now on, whenever i see a female character hated on because of whatever fucking “threat” she poses, i’m calling it the Rachel Elizabeth Dare Effect.

The Rachel Elizabeth Dare Effect: When a female character is treated poorly in canon and/or fandom, for reasons including any to all of the following:

-- she poses a “threat” to a popular ship

-- hypocrisy for hatred of traits (traits loved in one character but hated in this one)

-- a shallow refusal to see character outside of romantic pull/ties

-- pitting female character against another female character in a bizarre attempt to prove one is superior

not all of the ladies i listed strictly apply to the Rachel Dare Effect, but are worth mentioning because it brings up a topic that needs to be addressed in concerns to storytelling.

look. i love rick riordan’s stories and universe. the pjo characters mean a lot to me. i also love percabeth. do not mistake this post as a way to proclaim my hatred for certain characters and ships. that’s the exact opposite of what i believe. if you don’t like Rachel outside of the reasons i’ve shown above, then by golly, you do you. but this is about more than a personal preference.

Rachel Elizabeth Dare, and characters like her, deserve so much more than what fandom has thrown at them. please, take pride and care in what you write and read. it has a scary effect on young minds.

[outta-the-junkyard-angel]

walt task 004 ;; interview with the player

Describe your character. How do you see your character in your own eyes and not based off the bio. How have you developed this character into your own?

I see Angel as a complex human being. There are so many sides to her, so many hidden traits that even after four years I still find myself learning new things about her. On one hand, she’s a street smart, independent woman who doesn’t need to rely on anybody else. She’ll figure things out on her own and isn’t afraid to defend herself however she has to.  She’s confident in her ability to provide for herself even if the means aren’t necessarily legal. She’s a firecracker. On the other hand, she’s got a lot of insecurities and fears. There are still times in her life when she feels like she’s easily replaceable and that those who claim to care are just a snarky come-back away from leaving for good. There are days when she doesn’t feel good enough. When she’s ashamed of her background despite how strong it made her because she doesn’t have the same advantages as some of her friends. Angel is a sweetheart to those who make it past her walls, to those who dare to see her as more than just a pretty face and she’s incredibly loyal. It’s hard for her to let go of people because she knows how it feels to be let go of.

What’s your favorite thing about your character? What’s your least favorite?

My favorite thing about Angel is definitely her vulnerability. She does her best to hide it and probably only a handful of people have ever seen that side of her but it’s so honest and pure when she lets her walls down completely and opens up to those around her. Those threads always put me on an emotional roller coaster. My least favorite thing about her is probably…how stubborn she is. She does not let go, even when she should. Example. Brett. She knew she should have left a long time ago but unwilling to lose another person in her life, she chose to stick around. Angel had this idea that she needed him, that maybe he could change and that this was where she was meant to be.

What are some of your favorite relationships your character has formed?

Favorite relationships wow wow wow. Okay. So Angel has had five million interactions (that may be a slight exaggeration) and quite a few relationships that I’ve absolutely fallen in love with. I’m gonna start with some characters who are no longer here or maybe are played by different people now. First, we’ll start with Anne’s Dodger. MY BROTP man. Danger was the ultimate reckless friendship but they supported each other through everything, even when they were breaking stuff with bats. He was there for her through her break up with Eric and supported her throughout all of it. Elise’s Dodger is another relationship that I loved. He quickly became one of her best friends and he was one of the few people that have seen her vulnerable side. After years of pining over Scott, she realized that she needed to move on and Dodger was the first person who made her heart skip a beat again, who made her feel safe. Let’s just take a second to talk about JAMES P. SULLIVAN okay? The big brother she always wanted and never had. Their threads gave me LIFE. He was so understanding of all the things she did, and was always there to help pick up the pieces when her life was a mess. Eric. Eric, Eric. Eric. This man. My first OTP at Walt. This relationship, even though I consider it AU now, will always hold such a special place in my heart. He didn’t care where she came from. He didn’t care that she had nothing. She didn’t care that he had money. They loved each other for who they were and we put them through a lot of shit they didn’t deserve…but it was fun. I honestly do love hateships, okay and Jafar was one of the finest. Angel has not gotten along with a single Jafar this RP has had. Not a damn one and I love it. Jafar has always been able to get under her skin and rile her up. It’s amazing. Jafar is amazing. Peter Pan...that little psycho. I loved the messed up relationship they had. Like...Bia...I miss Peter. Come back to us. Come love us. Let’s finish this horrible game.

And now for the current people in her life: Brett. @junkyard-buster Oh my goodness. Brett. Buster. This man. I waited ten million years for somebody to pick him up and I am so glad that Bre did. He was the first man she ever loved and I think part of her is always going to care about him. Even now when she hates his guts, she wants him to see that there is a part of him that’s worth loving. She’s seen it but at the end of the day she hated being treated like a trophy. Scott fucking Lazzari, @s-lazzari ladies and gentlemen. She is so heart-eyed over this boy and it’s funny because she tries to play it off like she’s not. Angel would die for this goofball. She’d stand between him and Brett any day of the week. His arms are home and if something ever happens in the normal verse where she loses him, I honestly don’t know if/how she’ll recover. Now for my girls. Okay, Angel loves the fuck out of Alice @aliddellmimsy and so do I. Their friendship brings me life and I love these sassy blondes. They’re a dynamic duo and one of my all time favorite brotps. Merida Dunbroch. @redwaywardarcher These two never fail to find something to do and I feel like it probably always ends up with somebody getting punched or them running from the cops? They’re reckless, they’re hellions and Angel would fight anyone for Merida. Daphne.  @d-blake Angel’s not into the whole clothing and make-up side of being a girl, but she thinks Daphne’s pretty cool. 

Has your character changed you in any way? Or do you yourself in yourself in your character?

TW: MENTIONS OF ABUSE/NEGLECT, DRUGS, ALCOHOLISM. Read this next section with caution if you are easily triggered by these.

Angel has definitely changed me. Honestly, out of all my characters, Angel is the one that I connect most too. I was never a foster child and I never ran away from home, but my parents were both drug addicts and alcoholics. I was neglected and emotionally abused. I was told that I would never amount to anything, that I would end up alone. I was told that I did an okay job but here’s all the things I messed up. Reading her bio...that broken part of me connected with the broken part of Angel and I knew that I needed to be the one to tell her story. Along the way, I’ve learned a lot about her and a lot about myself. We hold on to people longer than we should just because the thought of living without them leaves a pit in our stomach. We pretend everything is fine when everything has spiraled out of control. We love others too much and ourselves not enough. Angel has taught me to be strong...to find the people who actually care and won’t run whenever my darkest side shows. She’s helped me come to terms with the fact that family isn’t always blood. And most importantly, she’s helped me see that even when I’m afraid that I should never be afraid to love.

Do you think your character has had a big impact on Walt? Is it a good impact or bad?

I would like to say she’s had a good impact. To see that others view her as this strong, badass woman really means a lot to the both of us.

Favorite thing your character has done and worst?

My favorite thing would probably be standing up to Brett. It needed to be done because they both needed closure. She needed to close the chapter on that part of her life in order for her to move one. Least favorite thing...Probably letting Scott go for the “space” he claimed he needed. She didn’t fight hard enough.

What is some progress you hope to have with your character in the future?

I’d really like to see her forgive her parents. Like, she claims she doesn’t care but she holds a lot of resentment and I’d really like to see her move past that.

What is one thing you would tell your character?

You are worth it. You don’t see that sometimes. You see yourselves as a placeholder in people’s lives but you aren’t. You deserve to have friendships. You deserve to be loved and to be in love. You deserve to be happy.

What has been your favorite thing about Walt?

Honestly how long I’ve been able to call this place a home. Overall, this place has been a safe place for me and reignited the spark I had for writing.

Has your experience been a positive one?

For the most part...yes. This place has been such a big part of my life. I’ve met some incredible people, shared incredible adventures, laughed so hard that I cried, and cried over threads that held intense emotions. Walt has brought some wonderful friendship into my world and I am beyond thankful. There are times, even recently that I’ve felt on the outskirts but overall, I love all of you dearly.

Got a favorite memory? Share it!

Um...is it bad if I say Brett showing up again? Cause damn that was some good drama.

What are you looking forward to in the future?

I want to see Walt thrive. I want to see it continue to grow and for each member to be welcomed with open arms. Zuley has put a lot of work into this place and so have I. I want Walt to be home for all those who apply.

Have you had a favorite event? Favorite plot?

This scream event omg. I also love Angel if future week.

Favorite Character that’s not your own and why?

I want to start this out by saying that everyone is going to get mentioned. I have seven characters and I split it up because I love all of y’all. So here we go.

@s-lazzari am I biased? Hell yes. But I love Scott with all my heart and SOUL. I love Lady & the Tramp 2. Scamp is one of my favorite characters. He wants to prove that he’s more than just a rich boy, that he’s tough even though underneath it he’s a goofball and a marshmallow. 

@junkyard-buster again...biased af. Listen. Brett is a great villain okay. He is calculating and he knows what he wants and he’s not afraid to go after it. I love the development we see him go through in the future thread with Angel.

@voodookingfacilier He’s just so well written. Like...every time I read his replies I get the creeps and I love spooky things so that’s a-okay with me.

@zer0-de-luca I just wanna hug him. Like...honestly. He’s a cutie.

Ideas, shoutouts, requests, dedications, questions?

Again, the love is split up among several characters, so your time is coming, buttercups.

Zulema, where do I even hecking start. Of course I had to put you with Angel’s task because I owe you so much. Angel’s bio brought me to this place but it’s people like you who have kept me here. You have been such a blessing. Thank you for allowing me to text you all in caps because I’m excited about Kentonie or Scangel. Or even just freaking out about something on the dash. You are an incredibly gifted writer and your dedication to those you care about is amazing.

Arlene, GIIIIRL. I absolutely adore you and I hope you remember that always. Writing with you is such a pleasure and shipping with you is always guaranteed to cause me a hurricane of emotion. Getting to know you has been one of the highlights of my time here at Walt. A million hugs to you, lovely!

Jill, loml. you are so freaking talented it kills me. Your responses are spot on. Your characters are flawless and so are you. I am so glad to have had the honor of writing with you and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for Max and Rita, Noelle and Elara , Atlas and Kailey, and Noelle and Henry. I love youuuu!

Bea, you also belong on Angel’s because Angric. You were the first person I had a ship with once I took up RP on Tumblr. Prior to that, I’d only written with people I’d known for a while but the chemistry Angric was was unbelievable. Thank you for suffering with me on the roller coaster of emotions, even though you inflicted most of it (; I’m glad you’re back, boo.

[tellywoodtrash]

ishqbaaz 19.09.17 lb

god, back to the mysterious kaagaz. fucking tell us already. 😒😒😒

shakti seems all cavalier about this, but dadi is fuh-reaking out. which of course means it’s gonna come out in a horrible fucking way and phelofy raita. 😖😖😖

oh great. it’s related to both billu and anika? PLEASE GOD DON’T TELL ME THEY’RE LIKE... RELATED OR SOME SHIT. PLEASE. THIS IS GULNEET, I PUT ABSOLUTELY NOTHING PAST THEM, NOT EVEN INCEST. 😟😟😟😟😟😟

please lord, let it just be the normal thing - the oberois murdered anika’s family or some shit. yes, that’s NORMAL for this show. 😣😣😣

billu ka OMG SECRET AGAINST ME radar is extra sharp after all the shit that’s gone down. try to even plan a secret birthday party for him? not gonna happen. the man is going to be just that heckin’ paranoid. 😐😐😐

dadi lying through her damn teeth like a pro. 😊😊😊

omfg, he just made sadface and was like “jaake intezaar karta hoon uska.” JESUS CHRIST BILLU, GET A DAMN HOBBY. MAKE A TUMBLR. REBLOG SOME MEMES AND PICS OF CATS. GET A DAMN LIFE YOU FREAK. 😕😕😕😕😕

but lord, it’s also kinda adorable. 💖💖💖

*does tilak and feeds gauri dahi shakkar* 

man what ghazab confidence this girl has, straight away introducing herself. i’ve been at my workplace for over 5 months now, and there’s people i see everyday and smile at, but don’t know names of. and now it’s too damn embarrassing to ask. 😕😕😕

aw, uncleji wants to learn english to talk to his bahu! 😌😌😌

oh great. a smart aleck teacher. already side eye-ing him. 😑😑😑

gauri kumariiiii sssarma’s looking kinda star struck and impressed by this idealist teacher dude. gosh i hope spoilers of a jealousy track are true, coz i would fucking love to see om jelly of this guy. hee hee hee. 😊😊😊

god i really don’t get why they make gauri all awkward about handshakes????? 😒😒😒

billu is chehak-ing coz wifey is back todayyyyy! 😚😚😚

OMFG HIS SHEEPISH GRIN MY GOD THIS MAN IS TOO FUCKING ADORABLE IT’S MAKING MY TEETH HURTTTTTT 😫😫😫😫😫

wifey is strong independent woman who don’t need no man and is back all by herself. tough luck to billu who might have been looking forward to maarofying chance in the car. 😝😝😝

GOD I AM SO HAPPY TO SEE HER BACK PLEASE SURBHI DON’T EVER LEAVE US LIKE THIS AGAIN UNLESS THERE’S A BANK OF EPISODES PLEASE THIS SHOW IS UNBEARABLE WITHOUT YOU LIFE ITSELF IS UNBEARABLE WITHOUT YOU I WILL NEVER LET YOU GO *clings to her leg* 😭😭😭😭😭😭

lololololol a simple question and she’s biting his head off. she’s still hellllla mad. 😂😂😂

HAHAHAHAHAHAH THANK YOUUUUUUUUU 🤣🤣🤣🤣

“jaise hawa mein aapke helicoptor udte hai waise roadon pe humare liye busein bhi chalti hai.” 

THE SNARK IS STRONG. 😆😆😆

“araaam se aana dadi!”

pffffffffffffffffffffft 😂😂😂

lmao anika ne toh thank you ka jaaaaap hi kar rakha jaise koi mantra ho. 

billu is suggesting they go to the roommmmm. 😏😏😏

LMAOOOOOOOOOOO HER FACE 

the slightest touch and the tharak is on! look at their bodies just gravitating to each otherrrrrrrrrr! holy shit, just baaaaaang already! 😯😯😯😯

i think anika’s maaarofying current these days like devrani used to. billu’s staring at his hand all perplexed. 😌😌😌

“thank you kehkar bohut badi galti kar di maine. nahi, PAAP HO GAYA MUJHSE!”

snort. you know what they say billu, hell hath no fury... 

dadi looks pareshaan af. 

oh great, anika’s going to take this on her head? 😟😟😟

oh thank god, she’s delegating to shivaay. good. 😌😌😌

billu’s here for round 2, but anika bohut hi gambhir mood mein. awaiiii. 🙄🙄🙄

this angst is so fucking random and unnecessary????????????// 🤔🤔🤔

billu’s been guilteddddd. 😐😐😐

LOL OM IS LOSING IT AND I AM FUCKING LOVING IT 😂😂😂😂

i fucking love kunal’s panic waala acting, like during the baby track

HAHAHAHAHA HIM RUNNING AWAY FROM THE DOOR PRETENDING LIKE HE WASN’T STANDING THERE WAITING FOR HER ALL THIS WHILE OMFG WHAT AN ADORABLE DORK 🤣🤣🤣🤣

yeah this asshole has gotten too complacent about her life revolving around him and needs to be knocked two or three pegs down. this is perfect opportunity. 😊😊😊

lol such ~subtle questioninggggg. 😋😋😋

awwwwww, he was waiting for her to eatttttt. 😯😯😯

it’s ok. ek din nahi khaaya toh kuch nahi hoga. suffer a little for being a dick. 🙃🙃🙃

still love you though, boo.  *pats his hair* 😘😘😘

OMFG THIS BILLU HAS GONE MAD. HE’S DEMANDING DADI INVENT A FUNCTION SO HE CAN MAKE ANIKA FEEL SPECIAL. MATLAB, HADH HAI YAAR. 😒😒😒

ALL THIS IS SO FUCKING UNNECESSARY, JUST FUCKING TELL HER YOU LOVE HER. MY GOD WHAT EVEN IS YOUR FUCKING LIFE, SHIVAAY? 😐😐😐

i blame his damn family for indulging him like this. my fam would just be like fuck off, we can’t be wasting time like this to validate your every whim and fancy. think of something yourself. spoiltass brat. 🙄🙄🙄

what’s anika so SMILEYYYYY AND CRYING about??? 🤔🤔🤔

god she looks so fucking pretty. i want to cap every frame, she’s that gorgeous. 😍😍😍😍

are those the papers billu tried to write her a letter on? she’s this happy just seeing “dear anika” written a buncha times? 🤔🤔🤔

but they look like some legal papers though?

billu be like hein? abhi tak maine kuch kiya bhi nahi? 

OHHHHH IT’S THE SAHIL KE CUSTODY PAPERS. SILLY TT. *FACEPALM* 😯😯😯😯😯😯😯

LOL GENUINE THANK YOU THA BILLU. DON’T LOOK SO SAD. 😄😄😄

lol he’s freaking out at her tears, as usual. 

aw, he’s remorseful that he can’t say what she wants to hear. “main koshish kar raha hoon, lekin atak jaata hai...” 

“jaanti hoon aapko waqt lagega, lekin please, thank you mat bolna, please.” 

an unofficial thank you ban has been instated. 😆😆😆😆

“what you said, it meant the world to me.” 

LOOK AT THIS SAD PUPPY WHO IS UNABLE TO SAY THE WORDS HE WANTS TO NO MATTER HOW MUCH HE TRIES 💘💘💘💘

she’s oh babe. tumse nahi hoga. stahp. 

ok crying a little lot. because like i said in my very first analysis post, she’s never really needed the words from him. he’s been showing her through actions that he loves her from waaay back. and she’s understood. right from then. 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

“YOU A DAMN BHEEGI BILLI”

his faaaaaaaaaaaaaaace. oh my godddddd. i love this idiot so much. 

GIRLFRIEND PUTTING THE MOVES ON HIM AGAIN SHE’S PUTTING THE MOVES ON HIM AGAIN THIS IS NOT A DRILL OMFG ALL MY DREAMS ARE COMING TRUE I CAN DIE HAPPY LORD 😫😫😫😫😫

OMG SHE TOLD HIM AGAIN AND BILLU LOOKS LIKE HE’S BEEN HIT BY A FRYING PAN OVER HIS HEAD ALL THAT’S MISSING ARE CARTOON STARS AND BIRDS ✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

sister here knows exaaaaactly what she’s doing to her husband. look at that smug grin. 😏😏😏😏

lol she’s waiting for another thank you! 😆😆😆

nope. not making that mistake again! 😎😎😎

left standing there with that same dopey smile! 😊😊😊

aw, he’s vowing to tell her anyway. you go billu!!!! 😘😘😘

svetlana’s showing jhanvi exactly why tej is being so cooperative. 

lovinggggggggg jhanvi’s shock. coz she’s such a dumbassss. honestly, she’s not even worthy of being svetlana’s foe. my girl be living in 3008, while you losers are living in two thousand late. 🙄🙄🙄

omki’s wifey is missing againnnnn. 🙃🙃🙃

great pinky is here to taang adaofy again. 😑😑😑

same, omki. #same.

what joy does this woman get from fucking with these kids’ marriages? does she have some kinda jocasta complex or what? coz i realllllllly don’t get it. 😣😣😣

god bless omkara and his sweet sassy smile while telling pinky that this is not a big deal. i’d just be like fuck off satan. 😒😒😒

god, yeh do - to - go dialogue chupke chupke se nahi churaya gaya? 🤔🤔🤔

why’s this teacher dude’s shirt open to like, the third button? it’s making me uncomfortable. 😖😖😖

ooooooooooooh gauri’s stuck hereee. 😯😯😯

“yeh mera badappan hai jo tum aise free ghoom rahi ho.” lmao i love svetlana so much 🤣🤣🤣

god queen, just kill her dumb ass. 😒😒😒

ughhhhhhhhhhhh. this garbaaaaage. 

PAINTING? WHAT PAINTING? PHIR MURTI KO KYUN DEKH RAHI THI??? 😧😧😧😧

HA. YESSSSSSSSSSSSSS, FUCK HER UP SVETTTTY. 😈😈😈

is this painting nonsense going to be supernatural too? like she travels through alternate planes using the painting or some shit, like the principals in harry potter? 😩😩😩😩

omfg she blew a kiss. i’m in loooooooooove. 😍😍😍😍😍

oh greattttt, allllll these idiots are on this case again. that too standing in the middle of the fucking house and talking about it louuuuuuudly. this is exactly why villains are able to fuck you idiots up. 😒😒😒😒

om looks least bit interested in all this. he’s just here coz shivika are, and the wife isn’t home to stare/passive aggressively banter with. 😆😆😆

oh, that got their attention. 

do you even know WHICH PAINTING? 😐😐😐

omkara exhibiting that his art degree is very much useful, thanks very much. STEM IS NOT EVERYTHING OK, DESIS????????/ 😒😒😒😒

WAIT THESE PPL ARE SO FUCKING RICH AND THEY HAVE AN ENLARGED PHOTOCOPY OF A PAINTING HANGING IN THEIR HOUSE? 😐😐😐

haaaaaye my handsome boys. 😍😍😍 

oh, svetlana replaced the painting. 

ok who the FUCK is this fucking white fucker IN INDIA who doesn’t know what fucking chai is? 😒😒😒😒

WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH THIS TEACHER, WHY IS HE SUCH A LOSER? 😤😤😤

yes, i know what he’s doing. he’s forcing them to interact with this white asshole in english. but matlab, hadh hoti hai unconventational teaching methods ki. 🙄🙄🙄

ok bade bhaiyya is soooooooo fucking team Gauri that he’s just not even trying with omkara anymore. which ok, i love and all, but come on shivaay, you gave fucking rudra alllll that advice on his BS relationship, and you’re not even making an attempt with om???? 😣😣😣

chubby’s had enough of this BS. ladki toh chod ke chali gayi, raita phailaaake, sametna is bechaare ko pad raha hai. 😪😪😪

lol are rudra/chubby the couple for today? i am fucking lovingggg it. 😊😊😊

literally no one is interested in being here other than shivaay and anika. ugh these new couples and their enthusiasm. 🙄🙄🙄🙄

look at this poor anxious munchkin. 😚😚😚

.... has surbhi gotten extra golden on her vacay, or is nakuul not wearing his makeup today?? he’s looking reaaaaaallly pale compared to her in this scene. 😐😐😐

even anika’s like god knows what new plan you and dadi have made up to embarrass me publicly now. billu’s like wait and waaatch, jaaneman.  😏😏😏😏😏

great, passive aggressive sniping from pinky and shakti. LITERALLY NO ONE WANTS TO BE HERE BILLU. WHY CAN’T YOU JUST SHOW HER THE TAPE IN THE PRIVACY OF YOUR ROOM AND FINISH THIS OFF. AWAIIIII KA KHEENCHNA. 😫😫😫😫

oh god i dont wanna watch this nonsense. it’s super fucking late where i am (i fell asleep watching the episode mid way) and i have a hella long commute tomorrow and i just wanna go back to sleeeeep. 😭😭😭😭😭

shakti, this fucking savage is probably gonna come back with a cactus or some shit, isn’t he? 😂😂😂

oh suddenly now everyone’s ok with the “bhavya was a cop on duty at our place” theory???? like....??? memories and attachment to ppl like goldfish, these fucking oberois. 😒😒😒

OK RUDRA, FIRST OF ALL, PROTEIN AND CARBS KA MEL HAI IN A HEALTHY DIET. AND FUCK YOU, YOU’RE SUCH A LOSER. THIS IS WHY SHE LEFT YOUR ASS. THIS IS WHY SUMO LEFT TOO. 😑😑😑

godddddd. this episode just won’t get overrrrrrrr. 😫😫😫😫😫

meanwhile this doctor waala chutiyaapa continues. 

the white doctor just unironically said: 

waittttt, when did tej and svetlana move outta oberoi mansion??? what even is going on? where the fuck is thissss? 😐😐😐

god svetlana, why are you wasting so much timeeeee? just kill ALL these losers. 😒😒😒

gauri kumari sssssarma to the rescue. as usual. always carrying everyone’s inefficient asses. 😎😎😎

another thing she has in common with shivaay: both have leadership skills, anything happens and they jump to the frontlines and get to action. 

lmaoooooo “hai kathaiiiii angrez ki aulaaad, seedha paani nahi bol sakta tha????” 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

gauri, caaareful. don’t break his ribs or some shiz. follow the beat to stayin’ alive! 😣😣😣

what the fuck nonsense. he’s no more it seems. awaiiiii. 🙄🙄🙄

GOD I AM SO OVER THIS TEJVI PLOT AND THEIR BUDDHON KA ANGST. GIVE ME SHIVIKA AND RIKARA. 😩😩😩

ok someone fuckinggggggg kill this teacher for reallllllll. god. 😡😡😡

if she just needs to look on the internet for words she doesn’t know, she can already do that. why does she need to come to this fucking class? 😒😒😒😒

sulky!kara is standing away all angsty and shiz. what a child. anyway, good. burn, fool, burn! 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[whythisbitchgotpotsonherhead]

(would have reblogged an especally annoying pic like above but I LOST it… oh fuckin’ well 🤷‍♀️)

Are you serious? Are you really serious right now?

Yeah, let’s reblog this in memory of those who killed themselves.

LET’S REBLOG THIS STUPID HOLLYWOOD SHIT TO REMEMBER THE PATHETIC PRIMA DONNAS, SELF-OBSESSED SCUMBAGS AND DETESTABLE DICKHEADS AND DIVAS WHO WILLINGLY DECIDED TO DIE.

LET’S REBLOG THIS 💩 IN MEMORY OF DEADBEAT PARENTS LIKE ROBIN WILLIAMS, KURT COBAIN, CHESTER BENNINGTON AND SYLVIA PLATH, WHO CLEARLY HATED THEIR CHILDREN AND WANTED TO HURT THEM. IF YOU HAVE CHILDREN AND REALLY LOVE THEM, WOULD YOU JUST ABANDON THEM? THAT’S WHAT THESE SHITHEADS DID BECAUSE THEY COULDN’T FACE THE FACT THAT LIFE’S A BITCH. FUCKING QUITTERS, THAT’S WHAT THEY ARE. OR USELESS WASTRELS LIKE DANIEL KYRE AND STEVIE RYAN, A SPOILED, UNGRATEFUL ASSWIPE AND AN INCOMPETENT CAM WHORE RESPECTIVELY WHO PLANNED ON DOING NOTHING WITH THEIR LIVES. ESPECIALLY THAT FAGGOT DANIEL KYRE, WHO HAD EVERYTHING MOST OF US COULD ONLY DREAM OF AND IT STILL WASN’T ENOUGH FOR THIS GREEDY, PIG-HEADED LITTLE BABY. WAY TO BETRAY YOUR FAMILY AND SCREW THEM OVER IN THE WORST WAY POSSIBLE. NOW THE KYRE LINE HAS ENDED BECAUSE THE ONLY SON WAS A SELF-ABSORBED, ANTI-SOCIAL NINNY WHO DIDN’T WANT TO TOUGH IT OUT AND SEE THINGS GET BETTER. NOT TO MENTION THAT EVIL DRAMA QUEEN AND HYSTERIC MARY KAY BERGMAN. SHOULD HAVE CHANGED HER NAME TO MARY CUNT BITCHMADE BEFORE SHE BROKE HER HUSBAND’S HEART THE WAY SHE DID. POOR DINO ANDRADE… HE’LL PROBABLY NEVER LOVE AGAIN, BECAUSE THE ONE TIME HE DID, SHE TURNED OUT TO BE THE EPTIOME OF “HEARTLESS BITCH” AND DID HIM DIRTY. JUST AS UGLY ON THE INSIDE AS SHE WAS OUTSIDE. THOUGHT SHE WAS TOO GOOD FOR HIM AND FOR LIFE. WHAT A SNOB.

AND LOOK AT ALL THESE “JUSTIFICATIONS” MADE FOR SUICIDE!!!

😭 weeeh, I’m depressed and anxious 😭 weeeh, I’m losing my talent 😭 weeeh, I have Lewy body dementia 😭 weeeh, I’m so famous it’s a curse 😭 weeeh, my husband beats me and wishes I were dead 😭 weeeh, my grandpa died, I can’t live without my GRAMPYYY

🤣 Let’s LAUGH at these little bitches with their flimsy EXCUSES! THIS is the REAL thought process of a “SUICIDAL” PERSON:

😭 WEEEH, I’M JUST A WEAK, IDEALISTIC, NAIVE LITTLE SHIT WHO CAN’T HANDLE THE HARSHNESS OF REALITY! THIS IS WHY I PLAN TO KILL MYSELF! I BITCH AND WHINE ABOUT MY PROBLEMS (LIKE ANYONE GIVES A FUCK ABOUT THEM) BECAUSE I’M TOO LAZY TO FIX THEM MYSELF! YET I’M INDEPENDENT AND DON’T WANT TO BE HELPED OR REASONED WITH BECAUSE I AM OBSTINATE AF AND NOTHING WILL CHANGE MY MIND! YES, COWARD, TRAITOR AND EVERYTHING IN BETWEEN, AND PROUD OF IT TOO! I DON’T CARE WHO I HURT IF IT MEANS I’LL BE FREE OF THAT BITCH CALLED “LIFE”! SHE HURTS MY FEELINGS AND FUCKS ME OVER EVERY DAY! NOT BOTHERING WITH HER ANYMORE! I WILL SPIT IN GOD’S EYE😨 AND GIVE HIM THE FINGER 🖕 🖕 🖕 IF HE GOT A PROBLEM WITH IT, BECAUSE I DON’T VALUE THE LIFE HE GAVE ME AT ALL! IN FACT, FUCK GOD, FUCK MY FAMILY, FUCK MY FRIENDS, FUCK MY FANS AND FUCK EVERYONE WHO LOVES ME!!! FUCK ALL OF THEM, BECAUSE IT’S ALL ABOUT ME AND I AM DONE LIVING! DONE!!! #TiredOfLife #PoorMe #FirstWorldProblems #PleaseFeelSorryForMe

🎼 Now Playing: World’s Saddest Song on World’s Smallest Violin 🎻🎶

SUICIDE IS A VILE, PETTY, HEARTLESS, SPITEFUL, MALICIOUS, SELFISH AND DELIBERATE ACT BY VILE, PETTY, HEARTLESS, SPITEFUL, MALICIOUS AND SELFISH PEOPLE. IT’S NOT COOL, TRENDY OR AT ALL OKAY TO KILL YOURSELF. IT’S AN EVIL AND HORRIBLE THING TO DO. BUT PEOPLE LIKE YOU MAKE IT A FASHION STATEMENT AND ENCOURAGE IT BY BABYING AND CODDLING THESE WIMPS WHO CLEARLY JUST WANT FAME, FORTUNE, RECOGNITION AND ATTENTION. INSTEAD OF DOING THE SMART THING AND CALLING THEM OUT ON THEIR SHIT. 📣 IS THAT RIGHT? ENABLING THESE LITTLE ATTENTION-SEEKING TURDS TO DELIBERATELY KICK THE BUCKET JUST BECAUSE THEIR ASSES WEREN’T KISSED ENOUGH IN LIFE???

STOP THE BULLSHIT, PEOPLE. DO THE RIGHT THING AND CHOOSE LIFE 🏳️‍🌈✨, NOT DEATH 🏴‍☠️.

PEOPLE WHO KILL THEMSELVES ARE WORTHLESS AND DON’T DESERVE LOVE. THIS IS WHAT WE SHOULD DO WITH THEM:

AGREE? LIKE AND REBLOG!!!  💖 💖 💖

GOT A PROBLEM 💢? COMMENT BELOW! SHIT GOT ME FEELIN FROGGY🐸, SO I’M GON LEAP!

[thinkingisvital-blog]

time to get real about the future guys

alright so I’m studying for my midterm rn and all of a sudden I came with a concept to revolutionize our little capitalistic world. So instead of learning about the innate immune system I made this little blog and am writing this because I can’t seem to stop thinking about it.

okay so the main thing I want to change is the distribution of corporate production and marketing (not sure that means exactly what i want it to but English is not my first language, I’m dyslectic af so you’re gonna have to deal with it for now)

my idea is based on a couple of rules:

 there is only one type of each kind of item. why the fuck are there 5 brands of the same kind of fucking rice and shit like that?? 1 of each is all you get bitch

this eliminates the need for fancy packaging.(reducing waste and production costs) Only necessary kind of packaging, to keep things clean, fresh and healthy ya know?

all products are made/ grown/ harvested in the climate/ area they are most viable. don’t try to grow rice in the middle of the fucking desert, those sons of bitches looovveeee their water and that shit ain’t there so don’t even try it. oranges grow well in warm Mediterranean climates so how about we only grow them juice boiis in spain and mexico (and all other counties meeting the same qualifications). Every terrain/climate is a favorable environment for different plants and animals so why try to force them to grow in different areas than necessary? potatoes are tough as hell so you can plant those earth apples everywhere, same for goats, they’ll live everywhere man. remember that “they crave that mineral” blog post? they don’t even need surfaces to stand on, they can literally just walk on vertical wall wtf (no wonder they think the goat in the movie “the witch”is the devil)

fresh plant products are only sold when they’re in season. apples don’t grow in the fucking winter now do they?? but surplus apples from that years harvest sure make good applesauce that stays good for a really long time

we need to put a price tag on a persons time, level of knowledge and, physical and emotional effort and that’s what we base salaries on. So easy jobs that require little knowledge but take a lot of time and effort are paid the same as jobs that are hard. getting cursed and yelled at all day while sitting behind a counter is more intense than sitting in an office for example. Of course minimum wage will still have to be a thing.

I realize that there’s some areas in the world that are not good for growing crops or keeping animals but do have people living there. sooooo i thought that those place would be good to focus other 

to avoid conflict, all religion has got to go. I mean this in the least negative way possible but besides supporting a lot of people, religion is not doing a lot of good things for the general stability of the world. Having some nice morals to live by is good but all religions exclude large groups of people and for some reason (that I’ve never fully understood tbh) insinuates a lot of conflicts between different religions(over who’s got the coolest book? coolest main character in that book? idk man). As you can probably tell, I’m an atheist but I have no problem what so ever with any religion and the people in them (as long as they can still make independent choices between good and bad (people) outside of their beliefs. Hating someone for no other reason than because your religion says you should is a big no no in my opinion)  I’m pretty sure there’s like 4 people that are gonna read this and the only comment is gonna call me out on this point lol. In my mind, the absence of religion will create a more excepting environment where people lead their lives according to their own thoughts and emotions. In order for this to succeed common decency, discipline and sense will have to go up so, oh so much (I’ve worked in retail, restaurants and help desks. Far too many people are dicks).

lets talk education. I’m from the Netherlands and I’m not totally down with what we’ve got going on here but we’ve definitely got the right idea. USA has got to stop what they’re doing rn. I SAID STOPPPP!!!  yo honestly how are the people responsible for organizing and structuring education in the states still thinking they’re doing a good job. Grades aren’t everything dude. Can you use it in real life? Cool! you got it, nice job. life isn’t about theory and knowing everything by heart. It’s about understanding. The system there is so different that my friends at Uni that are from the states that used to get straight A’s are now having such a hard time because our tests aren’t made for repeating but for understanding. it’s a totally different type of intelligence and it saddens me to see them struggle. I totally forgot about what is was writing.THE FUTURE: so we need to divide kids into different levels at a younger age. Kids that perform under the required expectations get frustrated and start feeling less valuable (surprise, Everyone is a precious lill bean that deserves love, understanding and support. Just because math isn’t your thing doesn’t make you less of a person. I makes you a person that should probably not be a mathematician but can be soooooo much more. The same goes for smart children, if they are not challenged from a young age they are very likely to become frustrated and depressed. also, only the subject that are absolutely essential to survival in the adult world should be mandatory. I’m talking, would this person be able to do function in social situations, do their taxes, laundry, communicate verbally and in written word and would this person understand the world and not be scared of a solar eclipse or when women all of a sudden start bleeding out of their vagina. That would mean basic math: divisions, additions, subtractions and multiplications. The Native language: writing, reading, grammar (no mandatory reading because what does that add to anyones life let’s be real). Science: just the concepts of gravity, the planets and weather (no calculations). Biology: concepts of healthy bodily functions, we need people to understand what they should and should not report to a doctor for their own gender and any other one.( no complex molecule names or anything like that). And most importantly behavior/moral/life lessons. A lot of people are behaving unkind or unfair because they don’t know there are other ways, different emotional responses. Parents should 100% definitely try to do most of this themselves but parents are also just humans. Not all of them do a very good job at connecting and educating their kids emotionally. so on top of that they should be allowed to choose a school weeks worth of other subjects (they are not allowed to not go to school). Subjects have to be wider as well, more choice, more practical stuff as well. believe it or not, all kids want to learn. Usually the knowledge that is offered to them is just not valid for them (yet). every halve year or so they should be able to choose their subjects again, drop it if it wasn’t for them or continue if they loved it. This way adults will have had way more time so specialize into a bunch of things they’re good at or at least passionate about.

EQUALITY!!! easy concept, evidently difficult to realize. i’m thinking the whole education thing will help with the mental part for some people and the structured pay build up thing will make sure corporate life will chill . Also giving fathers paternity leave will even out the selection odds (”hiring women is expensive because they can get pregnant”).  Also had in mind that racism will stop because my educational system will exterminate ignorance and will teach everyone that each person is their own individual. We’re all different and we’re all the same and that’s good. Also everyone lives everywhere in my fun lill utopia so Nationalism will be way less in Individualism will be the norm.

that’s how far I got with this today.

I’m actually genuinely gonna put some research into all of this because i have some financial doubts but honestly rn the biggest reason this is unrealistic in today is because everyone would have to give up their selfishness and boy oh boy do we nowadays love that shit. me included, I ain’t perfect but I’m sorta okay with that

[goldbergjonblog]

A Bette Davis Film Directed By Woody Allen

I once had to sleep with a dead cat.

It wasn't a fraternity stunt. It wasn't a perverted phase in my life. It was completely and only for a girl. All I had to say was, "What are you talking about? No fucking way. Sleep with your own dead cat." But I didn't. I slept with a stiff, dead cat, for two very long, very uncomfortable nights.

I grew up with dogs. I get dogs. We have a dog now. They can be annoying but you can communicate with them, and I'm not even talking about the ones that are trained. Cats have always thrown me off my game and, honestly, I just never found them that cute or enticing to want to have in my vicinity. They always seemed like miniature versions of tigers or leopards that can’t wait to swat me down, carry me up a tree to bleed me out and eat me. So let’s just say I was coming from a less rational, less accepting place when cats came into my life and my vicinity. And this particular cat was not the best representative of the cat nation to send as a diplomat chosen to heal the relationship between their kind and those who did not accept them. More medical miracle than ideal specimen.

“I want to fly Italiano out here and take care of him…he’s really sick.” This unassuming suggestion came from my girlfriend, Amanda. Our story is for another time but she was my high school sweetheart, who I lost touch with for years, finally reconnecting when I was in LA, not living the dream. She was driving back across country, on her way to Seattle, deciding whether she was going to get married or not. Flash forward four years and I am in a serious relationship with her, in Seattle.

“Wow. That’s sweet. How old is he again?” This is the dumb me just moving the conversation along, not knowing a trap was being set.

“He’s eighteen.”

“Amazing. I remember him from high school.”

“Yeah. He’s not doing well and I just want to be with him…”

She trailed off, not wanting to go there. I reacted like a dumb dog, just going along with it and supporting the kind gesture.

Within a few days Amanda flew to New York to accompany the cat, like he was an old Uncle needing an escort, back to Seattle so “she” could take care of him in his final days…his final 76 days. When does “final” truly mean final? There has to be some sense of imminence, which was clearly the case with Italiano, but there is also defiance, which was quite evident as well. So I guess there is some equation or recipe when combining those two qualities and you come up with a range of final. But once I saw him I did not argue with the declaration. I might have even gone a step further that he was making a great case for the existence of the undead.

What I wasn’t aware of, or thinking through, was that because my job, or at times lack of one, kept me at home most of the time, I became the sole caregiver. I was about to learn the hard way that the only thing worse than taking care of a selfish, loveless pet that is completely independent on you is taking care of a selfish, loveless pet that is completely dependent. Although there were times when the dependency turned into rebellion, like when I had to give him his daily shot. Oh wait, didn't I mention that he was blind, deaf, incontinent and dying of diabetes, which required him getting a shot in the stent hanging from his side? How could I have forgotten that? That’s vital information that I should’ve mentioned earlier, because you would want to know that stuff right? Well so did I. There were also some things that I learned on the job, like sometimes the fluid from the shot would back up, creating a sack on his side that grew so much that it would drag on the floor as if he swallowed a messenger bag that he slung around his ribcage. His blindness gave him this odd sense of presence where he knew you were near but lacked the exact coordinates. So if I were working for a bit and I turned around he would be a few feet away, staring at me in such a creepy way, almost looking through me. And he would do it for hours until he uttered his death rattle meets meow. Think of Spongebob Squarepants' voice with a heavy dose of desperate sadness and pain added on, and he's only saying one word/groan over and over again, "ohhh, ohhh, ohhh." Then imagine that it could happen at any time during the day...or night. Oftentimes I wouldn't see him and I would almost step on him or trip to avoid him. I would turn to see those lifeless eyes just staring at me, giving me the chills. Yes, this was an 18-year old cat that was dying. And he was dying in my apartment. "Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh."

I had the best situation in Seattle. I lived in the nicest apartment, overlooking two mountain ranges, the water and downtown. I was writing my own stuff and occasionally I would get some advertising work, write whenever I wanted and send it off to a client I never had to meet. Then around noon I would go play basketball with the same group of guys, one a former pro and another a member of Pearl Jam. I would grab lunch, head home and then the east coast sports were on.  “Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh.”   Fantastic life. "Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh."

A writer's dream. "Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh."

Holy shit what happened?  "Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh."

I thought the benefit of a cat was that they need no attention. That's how cat people tried to sell me on cats. You won’t hear a dog person say, "He's the perfect dog. You never see him. He does his own thing". That's not the agreement we made with this creature. We chose sides and we all agreed on the terms. Dogs involve effort, but there is love and appreciation in return. And cats, you just let them be and they’ll leave you alone. So now I'm agreeing to take care of an animal I don't like and then the only good things I've heard about it no longer applies. Not cool. Amanda was busy running around the city building her Amway business (don't get me started, can't get distracted) and she couldn't be home to take care of Italiano, which entailed being a full time nurse. I probably should've changed into scrubs everyday.

Because of Italiano’s age, along with the stent and the skin bag of fluid on his side, he didn't really walk, he dragged. Kind of like a baby lamb taking it’s first steps on an iced over lake with a fluid filled tumor on its side. And when it was time for Italiano to use the litter box, he would drag himself towards it, but he didn't have the strength to step over the edge of the box. So I had to walk over, pick him up and put him in, every time. Many times he couldn't find the litter box, because he lost his sense of smell as well (down to two remaining senses in case you were counting). Now that I think about it we should've changed his name to Keller. It became a game of "was he just dragging around aimlessly or was he dragging around looking for the box"? He was like one of those clone experiments gone wrong. The ones that were "unfinished" and shouldn't have made it. A bit like Brundlefly at the end of “The Fly”, where he's this mess of a creature who just wants to be put out of his misery. But in this case the misery was mostly mine.

The other thing that comes with the territory of nursing is affection. You need to show some. I would have to pet him every once in a while (I think you have a pretty good idea what he smelled like) just so he knew you were there. The affection was important because it created trust, which was essential when giving him his insulin shot. This was tough because whatever strength he had he saved for fighting this. He bit (do you have room in your imagination for what his breath smelled like?…Yeah, that.), he clawed and he tried to drag away. So the petting at least got him in the vicinity and, because cats are smart, he knew what was coming as I was wearing long sleeves for protection. I'd hold him down, grab the sack of fluid and quickly poke him with the needle. Yay! Until tomorrow.

So there I was trying to keep my perfect situation intact but now it was being interrupted at least twelve times a day because of whining, hunger, neediness, needles and crapping. Never mind him, my quality of life was...lacking. I must admit that I've never wished death on any living thing, but I did have some internal dialogue about whether Italiano should just go to "a better place", which was anywhere but my apartment. Okay I did mention this to Amanda. Not really saying that he should be put to sleep, but whenever she asked how he was doing that day I would always respond, "not good...suffering...suffering bad". I would also (don't hate me more than you already do) call her when he started pleading and I’m not sure if the plea was to sustain his life or end it.

"Hey"

"Hey" (me holding the phone out so she can hear) "ohhh..."

"How's the little guy?" (phone out) "ohhh..."

"Oh....you know" (phone out) "ohhh..."

"Awww (crying)

I know. Terrible. I was just hoping that she would eventually give in. This lasted for over two months. Every once in a while he would go to Amanda's for a visit, but for the most part he was in my care. Yes, she would stay over and help out, but I was in charge of this cat.

Finally, it hit her that he had a few days left and it was time. The equation of finality was starting to take shape. She had been crying about him daily. How much he meant to her since she was 7. So why was I dealing with it?  But I stayed composed and dealt. We transferred Italiano over to Amanda's and, I'm not going to say I did a dance when I got home but, there was a sense of euphoria. Okay I did a dance when I got home. I cleaned, mopped and erased all signs of the cat. The dance was a combination of raising the roof, tribal chanting ("freedom...freedom...freedom”) and the unbridled joy of a child going down the most fun slide ever, landing in a giant marshmallow covered ice cream sundae.

The next couple of days were filled with a lot of crying jags. Coming over to her house, lights out and her on the bed, with the cat in a fetal position, as she sobbed. Many of us know what it's like to be in the presence of an inconsolable partner. Maybe an occasional shoulder rub or an "I know, I know" mixed with some half head-shakes of concern. But the other 99.89% of the time is complete and utter discomfort. Now combine that discomfort with the tension of a dying animal sharing that same space. Paralyzing.

Then one afternoon the phone rang, probably interrupting my singing a version of "he's out of my life”. It was one of those rings where I just knew. I think I grabbed my car keys on the way to the phone. I took a deep breath and answered. There was about three unbearable seconds of silence. "Honey?" I said. Then there was some sobbing and ..."he dddied...Italiano died". "Aww honey I'm so sorry. It’s probably for the best as I was...he was suffering. I'll be right over." I hung up and felt really really,…relieved. I wanted to be supportive, starting to work on my sympathy face. But then it struck me, what do you do? Who do you call? Was I supposed to go to the vet? How was it finally…resolved?

I wasn't sure what to expect as I approached her door. I walked in and gave her a hug, still thinking about what was next. But she ended the speculation. "I hope you don't mind but I want to stay with him a bit longer". I'm sure my face didn't match my verbal response. "Ok". I was confused by the "stay with him" part. "He's on the bed", she mumbled. I know my face didn't match my response because I looked at the door and quickly had an internal dialogue about what the ramifications would be if I just left at that moment. Was that breakup worthy? For her as well as me? Is it one of those "and that’s the last time I saw her" moments? But I hung in there, peeked around the corner and saw him lying on the bed. I was able to eek out an "aww", which could’ve easily transitioned into an “eww”. He looked tiny, stiff and completely dead.

I felt a sustained chill. Not a quick, jolting fright but more of an impending, looming, psychological feeling. A film critic would say that this moment was not “a cheap, manipulative scare but more of a get in your head and stay with you scare”. My body remained in the front room, not wanting to follow my head into the bedroom. There were no doors as it was a small apartment with a high ceiling and a big wall separating the bedroom from the kitchen/living room. She took this opportunity to get up on the bed and actually spoon the dead cat. I think I audibly announced the heightening of the chill, "hwwbbwhhh". In the movie version the camera would've done that classic horror technique where everything behind me stretches off into the distance and my face moves towards the camera in fear. Like the moment the wife realizes her husband is the killer, or when the victim hears that the call is coming from inside the house. If Amanda had said "I'm preparing a white wine reduction as later we will eat him to fully embrace the experience so he can be with us forever" it really would not have advanced the creepiness that much. But then in a sniffly voice..."Would you lay down next to me?" I found myself still in the entryway, as I gulped, thinking I could still leave. Maybe she'd want to be alone...with her dead...stiff...childhood...pet. But alas she wanted to share this gothic moment with me. I reached in my mind and, like a good Jew, I came up with something. "You need to eat something” (Please, please, let me go get dinner. I'll gladly drive to Portland to get whatever you want. It’s an up and coming foodie city you know? From their farm to your table in just over 6 hours).

"I'm not hungry, can you just lay down with us?"

Oh God. She was looking at me, questioning why I was hesitating. Why? Why? Hmmm let me think. Oh I got it..."THERE'S A DEAD FUCKING CAT ON THE BED!" But I fought it and took a step into the bedroom, slipped my shoes off and laid down on the very edge of the bed, as far away from the dead animal as possible. I looked over and made sure that her body was blocking the cat, because if I could see him I wouldn’t be able to stop looking at him and if all I could do was stare at him then I couldn’t stay, which I didn’t want to do but knew I had to. It was an insane Catch-22. I reached my arm out and gave what was probably the worst back rub in the history of back rubs. It was the same motion you make when you use a mouse pad to scroll down an article you’re reading, with two fingers to move the cursor a half-inch on your computer. Just repeated over and over. I was discomforting her.

Eventually she fell asleep spooning the cat. There was no way I could sleep so I slowly got up, trying to avoid looking at the cat and failing miserably, and went into the kitchen to eat. I wasn't hungry but I needed a reason to leave that space. Eventually she came in, puffy eyed. She apologized for the situation, even laughed a bit, which relieved me because she did realize the insanity of it all. That gave me permission to ask, "So how long...you know...can he stay like this?" She shrugged and said "I don't know. I'm not ready yet. Do you mind?" (Do I mind? Of course I mind. This is the freakiest thing I've ever been through). "Noooo, whatever you need." So weak.

Amanda went back to bed and I stayed in the living room/kitchen as long as I could. After a while she called me in to lie next to her and I stayed in my “as far away as I can” position, alternating between laughter and fear, as we talked about how wonderful he was.  Well I was basically just listening, nodding and agreeing, while keeping my running commentary to myself.                                                                "Wasn't he just the sweetest?" Sniffle, sniffle.

“Yeah..." (just the neediest)

"His cute little face.”

“Yeah.” (his strange glaucoma slicked eyes)

"That funny little way he tilted his head?"

"Uh huh.” (that odd sack of fluid on his side that made him look like a deformed dromedary?)

"How he'd just rub up against you for comfort?"

"I know." (how he'd suddenly just be there when you'd turn the corner and you'd almost trip over him?)

"So adorable."

“So cute." (so creepy)

Somehow I fell asleep but not for long because, oh God, there it was. The thing I was waiting for…dreading. The smell. He had started to smell...like...like...well like dead animal. New Yorkers know that lovely scent as “dead rodent stuck in the walls”. I looked over her shoulder as she was spooning him. He looked so tiny and stiff. Rigor mortis? I started thinking back on all the stuff I learned from police procedural morgue scenes. When does rigor mortis set in? No clue. When do they start putting that stuff under their nose to counter the smell? Couldn't tell you. But it was happening and I was freaked out. I got up and went to the bathroom and sprayed a healthy dose of her perfume on my palms and rubbed my hands together like I was washing them with soap. Except I wasn't rinsing this off. I put my stinging hands up to my face and did a double nostril-movie cocaine addict-snort. Just to smell something pleasant. I walked back to the bed, again trying not to look, but magnetically moving my eyeballs towards the horror show, and went to sleep with my hands over my face like a homemade gas mask.

The next day I woke up to the sounds of Amanda crying. At that time I only saw girls cry when I had just said or done something to cause it. So there's guilt associated with it and it's a trigger. Girl + crying = bad Jon.  It took me a bit to realize the situation. I didn't do anything wrong so I slowly put my hand on her shoulder. She shuddered a bit. "Hey honey...I think it's..." I had to be so careful here. I didn't prepare what I was going to say so I started reaching for the right words. Just zipping through my catalogue of "in this moment you say this phrase". Unfortunately my library of experience was not extensive enough to contain that rare copy of Edgar Allan Poe’s "if your girlfriend's cat dies and it's been in bed for two days and you had to sleep with it while it was rotting you should say this". So, as I discovered the empty shelves in my library, I went with, "Hey honey...I think it's...time to...to...call your brother". I had been talking to her brother, who also lived in Seattle, and he understood how crazy it was but he understood his sister's "sensitivities". He also knew the cat well and wanted to be part of the "ceremony". Ceremony you ask?

The plan was, and always was, that we were going to bury the cat on a hill overlooking the water. My suggestion in calling Greg was rooted in nothing other than the sooner he comes here the sooner this ceremony happens the sooner I can go home and the sooner I can take a bath in bleach. She nodded and I think I dialed the last number before her chin started moving down. “Hey Greg....it's time". Now there's no way in hell that's what I said but I'd like to think so. It was probably closer to, "Hey Greg...sooooo...great we'll be waiting."

Greg came over and gave Amanda a hug. He stared at the cat for a bit and then just scooped him up and put him in a shoebox. I was looking around for a lighted candle to accidentally knock over in order to burn her bed to the ground but no such luck. The three of us got into Greg's car, Amanda, holding the box with tiny Italiano inside, staring down at him. We drove about fifteen minutes to a nice spot with lots of greenery and flowers. Greg had a shovel and began to dig as Amanda picked some flowers and placed them in the box. It took Greg all of twelve seconds to dig a grave for Italiano as he had shrunken to the size of a small rabbit. A spoon could've sufficed. He slowly placed the box into the ground as Amanda's blubbering got a bit more excited. I stood back, giving them their moment. Greg packed the last few piles of dirt on top of the box and patted it. Amanda arranged the flowers around the grave and then the brother and sister held each other. It was actually very nice and that cat should be very thankful to have been loved so much. I'm sure if he is somewhere floating around he's looking after Greg and Amanda. Occasionally he’ll take a pass over me, stare creepily down and use the wind to make a sound. “Ohhh…Ohhh…Ohhh.”