struggling

As a kid, when your parents are poor, you're poor. If they don't have money, that means none of you have money. But if someone's parents are rich, that doesn't necessarily mean the kid is. Sometimes rich peoples' kids aren't rich kids, they're just some rich freak's exotic pets that can talk but aren't allowed to.

That’s… not how class works

OK, so- my partner was adopted by a rich woman when he was a baby. She's from a prominent family, practically royalty where we're from. She certainly had the means to send him to fancy private school, give him good food, nice clothes/toys, premium healthcare... she chose not to. According to her he was lucky to be "adopted out of poverty" at all and should have been content with what she deigned to give him. And she reminded him of this constantly, all through his childhood.

She dangled the promise of uni in exchange for good behavior and good grades- with terms and conditions, of course. And filling her laundry list of demands was something like pulling teeth whilst jumping through hoops. In the end, did he get to go to uni? Of course not. (And certainly being queer/trans on top of it all did not help things whatsoever).

He cut her off after high school, and when I met him a year ago he had been working as (the equivalent of) an UberEats driver for a living for the last few years, including through the pandemic. (Sixteen hours a day for the equivalent of $6 (six) USD, not including the gas for his shitty rundown scooter; caught COVID twice, suffers from chronic fatigue to this day).

And to this day he still has to be selective about which of our ~leftist anarcho-commie~ friends he divulges this part of his background to- cos all they hear is "raised rich" and then suddenly he's not One of Them because "well teeeeechncially :^) you're from the oppressing class...". Like.... shit, man!

Social rules don't mean shit when it comes to abusive parents. Even rich ones.

Probably especially rich ones.

people are totally on board with the concept of "sufficiently rich people are above the law, and this is bad" but refuse to connect that to the concept of "this also includes laws that protect children from abuse and exploitation"

like we understand "the ruling classes get and maintain their wealth through cruel exploitation of those less powerful" and we can't wrap our heads around "a lifetime of this cruel and merciless behavior being valorized by your peers probably doesn't predispose you to suddenly changing gears once you have a helplessly dependent child that's totally under your control."

like yeah the rich are our enemies in this ongoing class war, absolutely, it's an Us or Them situation to save the planet. but if you don't give a shit about saving the enemy's children too, i don't think very highly of your motivation or your methods.

oh, here's a relevant example I saw just the other day:

A fun fact: my mom was in the upper middle class as a teen/child. She moved out the day she turned eighteen bc her father was horribly abusive. she had NO ACCESS to the income her parents had.

But her parents' income was still counted when she tried to get help from the government for her college classes.

Financial abuse is a thing. Financial abuse is a thing people use against their KIDS TOO. like, someone can be the spouse of a rich person and not have ANY real access to that money bc their name isn't on anything and they're not given a card or money.

When I was in college, I lost count of how many people I knew on campus who had to drop out because their parents found out they were queer and withdrew financial support.

Apparently this tiktok was deleted hours after I saved it.

[Video ID: A Tiktok that several users have added onto, each making a different joke about gender.

Person 1: They say “No pronouns? Damn… another victim of gender identity theft.” They start cracking up on the last word.

Person 2: They start off smirking while they appear to think about what to say. Then, they look at the camera imitate a spam call voice, saying, “We have been trying to contact you about your gender’s extended warranty.”

Person 3: They come in through a doorway and yell, “It’s my gender identity, and I need it now!” The camera angle shifts to indicate they’re a different person, and they say, “Tired of not having a gender identity? J.G. Wentworth can help. Call J. G. Wentworth; 877-pro-nouns. They’re your pronouns, use them when you need em’!”

Person 4: They imitate the kind of voice you hear on legal ads and say, “Attention: If you or a loved one has been diagnosed with Gender, you may be entitled to financial compensation.”

Person 5: Starting off strong and dissolving into fits of laughter as they speak, they say, “-and now a word from our sponsor: Raid Shadow Genders; conquer all of the genders" End ID]

whatever

The mischaracterization of people from PJO is so funny, but ESPECIALLY from HOO onward like.

“Hazel’s such an innocent little angel. She’s always nice and kind and confused.”

Hazel, who’s always ready to fight in the same way Percy is? Hazel, who made it explicitly clear she probably would’ve rocked Octavian’s shit had he not been blackmailing her? Who gets so angry on behalf of the people she loves, to the point where she doesn’t forgive those who have wronged them? Who Percy described as cursing up a storm in one of their first interactions? Who’s been shown time and time again to be FAST to anger? That Hazel?

Or Nico, who’s “a misunderstood emo. A small bean. Cute like a wet cat and innocent like a bunny.”

Nico, who’s cannonically described by most characters as “scary and unnerving?” Nico, who, for a long time, is one of the angriest characters in the series? Who’s only sassy and sarcastic because it took him FOUR YEARS to mellow out? Who’s described as being one of the most powerful demigods, who a lot of people still consider the scariest? Who’s come into his own as a character from TTC to TSATS? That Nico?

Or Annabeth who’s, “cold and calculating. Doesn’t show emotion or express herself”

Annabeth, who’s the most expressive person in the series? Who cries in EVERY book in the OG series? Whether it be for Luke, or Thalia, or Percy, or Chiron, or a literal DOG? Who expresses passion like no other when it comes to architecture and her other interests? Who’s expressed compassion for people she didn’t know? People who at times posed a threat to her? Who isn’t afraid to be angry, or happy, or snide, or rude, or excited, or scared, or ecstatic? Who’s been unapologetically herself since the moment the series started? That’s who doesn’t show emotion? That’s Annabeth?

2021 Pride Month Celebration [14/30 LGBT+ Characters] Clare Devlin “I’m not being an individual on me own!”

the empty tells cas “there is nothing for you back there.”

back there, the man cas loves has spread his ashes in a peaceful, sun-drenched field. the man cas loves prays to god for the first time ever to beg that the man he loves be returned to him.

randomly remembering the time in 2012 when everyone kept saying the world was going to end at midday that day and like, i didnt really believe it, but i didnt want to be a complete fool if i was wrong, so i excused myself from class to go sit the field and perfectly timed the beat drop to a skrillex song just in case something happened. and im just. retroactively amused by the idea of ushering in the appocalypse with skrillex. most 2012 thing you could possibly do.

Okay I get that the toxic positivity way I was raised is bad and venting about things is good and healthy but there's a grim sort of hilarity in the complete miscommunciation between how my boyfriend and his family process complaining and how I was raised to do it. Because I was raised with the attitude that if you've got a problem, you either do something about it if you can, or focus on things you can control if it's something you can't change. And the way he was raised, simply complaining about things because they worry you is just what you do to process things, venting to make yourself feel better.

So when he brings up something that bothers him, and I ask him what he thinks we should be doing about that, it's a baffling question to him. To him, verbally stating that Life Is Just Bad Sometimes is a neutral thing and not a prompt to start coming up with how to solve this issue. And my brain just fucking short-circuits right there.

So when he's just stating out loud that things just be like that sometimes, what I'm hearing is "life is intrinsically, ontologically bad in a way that cannot be in any way improved, endured, nor ignored, and there is no hope of it ever being any other way." And like a solution-seeking missile, my singular brain cell jumps into the next passably logical solution and goes

"So are you suggesting we should do double-suicide?"

"crochet can't be made by machines" went from being a cool fun fact to being a call to action of "so if you see mass manufactured crochet in Target, that was made by a person and they were underpaid and you should boycott it" which is true, it was made by a person, but EVERY item of clothing you own (that you did not purchase from a company using ethical labor) was made by a person being underpaid (at *best*.)

Sewing machines are operated by *people*. Knitting machines are operated by *people*. Yes lots of the process is automated but you cannot tell a machine "make me a t-shirt" or "make me a knit cardigan".

Higher awareness of fast fashion, and the true human labor and abuse behind it, is GREAT, but let's not pretend that the crochet hat in target is THE problem. Every article of clothing in target is the problem. "All clothes are made by people" is the jumping off point here into understanding this issue it's not just crochet it's the whole thing ahhhhHHHHHHHHHH

Thalia doesn’t keep many things in the hundreds of years she’s been alive. 

But long ago, there were people, their names all but distant memories, who mattered in her 1st lifetime. It’s their things that stay hidden in her bag, reminding her of her mortal life. 

A blue hoodie, worn almost threadbare. The scent of its original owner, long since leached from the fabric. But if she closes her eyes, she can almost see the blue eyes of her first and only love. 

A pair of glasses. Frames cracked and crooked. A reminder of a brother she never got to truly know. 

A baseball cap. It’s magic long faded, branded with a forgotten logo. Memories of a blonde girl laughing hidden deep within. 

A letter. Ink fading, paper yellow. The last words of a dying friend. Words that wish her well, words that wished her well in a world they had fought side by side to save. 

Thalia doesn’t keep a lot of things, but even after all this time, Luke, Jason, Annabeth, and Percy will stay with her forever. The memories of her first family to remind her why life is so beautiful.

Dear Thalia (or should I say Pinecone Face),

You know what's worse than having dyslexia? Having dyslexia and bad eyesight and arthritis. But you wouldn't know, would you? Off topic, sorry..... I'm writing this letter because it's been a long time since we've talked. But, there's something else too. I haven't been feeling well the past few days.

Past few years, I've been understanding how Gary felt all those years ago, why he felt so grumpy. Right now, it's getting really worse. Every day, it's like my breaths are shortening. I can't get around the house anymore. I feel weak. And to be honest, as much as I would hate to tell annabeth and estelle who have been taking good care of me, I think I'm going to pass away soon. I know, I've said that many times throughout my life, but I think it's the right time. I think they know too. Annabeth has tears in her eyes whenever I see her. Estelle has been spending extra time lately, giving me soup and blankets, as if covering her own misery.

But, can I tell the truth? I don't feel bad. I feel...happy. From when I was little, people constantly told me I would die quickly and painfully. But here I am, a happy man with three kids and the most wonderful wife in the whole world. My best friends and I have grown old together and had kids, which is the best a demigod can get

I wanted to write this letter to tell you something and that is: Keep going. Keep having fun, hunting monsters and making the world a safer place to live in. Keep taking young girls under your wing. Tell them stories, stories of how you saved the world and my wife.

And thank you. For being there at my side when I needed your support most. Thank you for being the punk princess sister I always needed (do the kids say punk anymore?). This is my last goodbye before I head to Elysium, where I'll wait patiently along with charles, silena and jason for annabeth and the rest of the seven, and we'll have fun. But don't be sad: Hold fast, Pinecone Face. Love you forever, even if I'm not

Yours lovingly, Percy (Kelp Face)

I’ve been suffering from itchy nipples for a while

you don’t have to post everything i’m just saying

And you don’t have to post that little freak from dungeon meshi but here we are

oh so the nipple scratcher is inciting war with chilchuck nation? choose your next words wisely

Before my beloved and I moved in together they were living with roommates in a place that didn't have a bathtub. Now, a reasonable person might conclude from this that baths would be out of the equation in a home with only one standing shower and no tub.

But these people weren't quitters. Naturopathic doctors and acupuncturists they were dedicated to treating their bodies well and one of the ways they liked to do that was hydrotherapy. Most people are familiar with this through things like polar bear plunges. You sit in a hot tub then jump in freezing water.

It's supposedly good for you and they were way into it. But again, no tub. They'd do hydro showers but it just wasn't the same. These people were not quitters, though. (One of them is the boob soap person, so it really isn't a surprise that she goes hard on everything). So they got what looked like two big metal old timey tubs but which were actually animal food troughs and set them up in the garage. They set up a water heater and god knows how they emptied the tub after, I think there was hoses involved? A pump maybe? I honestly can't remember. Anyway! Voila, hydrotherapy on demand.

I was not aware of this. So when I came over after a long day and my beloved said we should take a bath I was extremely puzzled. I only knew about the one shower. They showed me the garage tubs. I did want a bath and I wasn't really sure about the setup, but honestly I'll try anything once if only for the story, so I agreed.

Fun fact about me though. I haaaate being cold. I've been 0% body fat most of my life with skin barely keeping my bones enclosed. I'm always cold. My favorite activity at the time was sitting directly in front of space heaters. My shower temperatures turn me lobster red and make my beloved cringe. Willingly dunking myself into cold water is the antipathy of my entire deal.

On the night in question I happily submerged into the warm tank, pleasantly surprised by the big silly improvised tub. Which again was meant for livestock. My knees bumped companionably against my beloved as we soaked in the hot water. After a while they rose to go into the cold water. "You don't have to," they told me.

But I was haunted. I wouldn't be doing hydro if I just stayed in the warm tub. Maybe hydro was amazing. It has all these health benefits. I desperately didn't want to but I stood up with them. We were having this nice intimate evening in the garage, just us, I felt safe. I was gonna do it.

They stepped easily into the cold tub, dunking matter of factly into the frigid water. I went to step. I did. I really really tried. My foot went in and I started shrieking, my progress arrested by the total state of shock I entered when my warm toasty foot hit that smug arctic water tension. My beloved started laughing as my pitch ascended the deeper my foot went into the cold water.

I started loudly narrating my discomfort as my foot touched the bottom and I willed my other foot up to join it. "THIS IS VERY COLD," I yelled, "IT'S SO COLD I THINK I MIGHT DIE HOW ARE YOU JUST CASUALLY SITTING IN THIS FREEZING COLD WATER?! I'M DYING- I THINK I'M DYING! I'M DYING BUT WE'RE HERE, TOGETHER! I CAN DO THIS! I CAN DO THESE EVEN THOUGH IT'S SO COLD ALL MY MOLECULES HAVE COMPRESSED INTO A SOLID STATE!"

I ended up with both feet planted in the cold tub, water up to my shins, bellowing and panting while my beloved laughed so hard they couldn't breathe. I hunkered over the cold water, squatting like a frozen gargoyle.

My beloved was trying to psyche me up while I willed my body to obey me. In a sudden jerky drop like a puppet whose strings have been cut I plummeted my body into the cold and let out a shriek that I’m sure could have shattered glass and then leapt up out of the water at a speed relative to a rocket achieving space flight. I didn’t like it.

When we got back inside my beloved's roommates were collapsed on the ground with tears in the their eyes from how hard they'd been laughing. They and probably every neighbor down the block had heard my pterodactyl screeching and narration because the garage was not remotely soundproof.

Camp Jupiter when Percy shows up:

I always forget this wasn’t a thing everywhere but my high school had a fun and innovative way to torment us in PE. They got heart rate monitors. It was this awful strap that went under the bra line and paired to a watch. The first day was great cause we got to set our resting heart rate. We did this by laying in a dark room and napping.

But then once a week we’d have to strap on these monitors and go running. The monitors were old tech and didn’t always pick up your heartbeat, so you’d have to use cold water between it and your skin to get a better connection, gods know why. Warm water never worked. After the day our watches would be collected and our efforts recorded.

The idea was that if your heart beat too fast you were supposed to stop, and if it was too slow you’d speed up. In practice this was ridiculous, staying in the green zone all class was ridiculously difficult.

Even people like me who were stubbornly resistant to running the mile couldn’t stand the horrific constant beeping and made attempts to placate the reviled machine. It was always fairly miserable. I had PE first thing in the chilly morning, dashing cold water on my skin before running around half awake was the low point of my week.

But for some unknown reason, the teacher insisted that no play could happen on these days. We were given the freedom to run all over campus but woe betide us if we tried to make a game that actually made this enjoyable.

We’d initiate games of tag only to get yelled at for not just… running. Any kind of play was forbidden. On one memorable occasion someone got a kickball and we started an impromptu soccer game with it.

If someone’s heart rate got too high they’d drop to their knees to wait out the shrieking of their watch so an extra element was added to the game of trying to win without going too hard. I remember being absolutely delighted, the thrill of that game still lives in my heart, hoping I could score a goal before my heartbeat betrayed me to the hated watch.

When the PE teacher found us we were soundly scolded and the ball was confiscated. Our happiness burst like a soap bubble and we turned our back to the enchantment of the green field and resumed slogging along in a grey haze as expected.

A friend I had briefly in my teens years was this girl in Arizona. She was a junior when I was a freshman, and as I was socially awkward and very lonely she kind’ve pulled me under her wing for a while. I don’t remember how we met, but I remember riding in her car and meeting her cute miniature Doberman.

But the thing I remember most about this girl was that she loved lying to me. And I had a massive but I acknowledged crush on her so I adored being lied to. Her natural charisma and storytelling was hypnotic.

It’s not what it sounds like because it wasn’t malicious but she came up with this in depth lore to tell me about this fake job she had. I know autistic people are meant to be credulous but I truly never believed her stories, I just adored her storytelling and was very ready to listen to whatever tale she spun that day. Another of her friends chided her once for teasing me but I genuinely never minded.

In her lore she moonlighted as a Professional Liar. People would hire her to get close to a target they wanted rattled. She’d make friends, develop a strong relationship, foster a dependency on her, then disappear. Then when they were confused and missing her sometime when the employer needed their target rattled she’d show back up as a glimpse to knock them off balance. Often it was implied she’d faked her death in the interim.

That itself was fine, it was an okay story. But in order to support that lie she’d make up tons of supporting details that were way more fun. She had this fake boyfriend who got high as balls on a mission and ended up seeing a sheep in a field and carrying it to a farmhouse to try to buy it because he wanted a puppy. I liked that one but suspected she didn’t know how big sheep were.

She’d IM chat with me as this made up boyfriend sometimes; once she had him ask me if I noticed her limping and he told me she’d just lost a toe but was covering for it like a champ. That one was fun.

She told me about something she called “purple charge” which was a way to get instant night vision. I did try looking that one up on the off chance, but was sadly disappointed there.

She said that Professional Liars had such high stakes jobs that they needed a week of insane time where they just partied so hard it was like a Dionysus rave and her IM boyfriend persona implied she’d killed someone during one of those stints.

I had such a fun time with her elaborate fiction that I’d often ask follow up questions and she had to do a lot of world building to keep up with my fascination. We’d get to class and I’d have three or four new questions which I think is why her friend thought her teasing was too far. They genuinely thought I believed her but I was just loving the fiction.

If any of this sounds malicious I’ll also add that when I got harassed on a roleplaying board she went out guns blazing to go after the guy who’d been harassing me. She genuinely enjoyed my company.

I find myself looking back on our friendship very fondly. I can’t remember her last name or have any way of looking her up, but she really was a professional liar to me. The only downside is that I’m completely faceblind so if she ever wanted to pop unexpectedly into my life I’d have no idea it was her.