Whatever That Is Left

God yes, please, let's fucking talk about my greatest source of social isolation and ridicule.

thank GOD we are talking about racism towards asians now because as a dark skinned south asian woman my only representation in western media is 1) the smart brown girl studying to become a doctor or 2) the brown girl with overbearing parents who want her to get an arranged marriage. and don’t you dare tell me that this only happens in movies or shows because i cannot count the number of times that white people have come up to me and asked me what medical schools i want to apply to since i was literally 12 years old.

my culture has been stolen by white people trying to be woke while i was shamed for being south asian as a child. the golden milk you find on every white girl’s youtube channel now is haldi doodh, and my ancestors have been drinking it for thousands of years. the bindis on white girls’ foreheads as they go to coachella have served as a target for racists to attack south asian women. but when i drink haldi doodh or wear a bindi, i get stares from white people trying to dehumanize me by calling me barbaric or “backwards.”

racism towards south asians is still around and something that we NEED to keep talking about if we want to see change happen.

Lost to Happiness

The woman sitting in front of me is smiling. It’s a vacant, empty smile. The smile a baby would have, clueless and blissful in ignorance.

“It’s such a lovely day. It’s warm, the sun is shining, it can’t get any better,” she says. Her voice is soaked in pure and simple joy.

It makes my stomach twist and bile rise in my throat. I feel like vomiting, watching this woman smile blankly in the sun. Instead, I force my stony face into a semblance of a smile and agree. We return to complete silence.

The woman wears my sister’s face. She uses my sister’s voice. She has my sister’s touch.

She is not my sister.

My sister has shadows painted underneath her eyes and a furrowed brow. Her mind always runs, sprints, gallops, with endless clever ideas and possibilities. She does not comment on the weather and sit happily in silence. My sister has ambition. And a pressure that whipped her brain into only giving perfection, like a jockey whipping his horse to finish first. Her ambition was inherent. The pressure was a complex, parasitic creature that latched on and sucked her dry. It morphed out of her ambition, anxiety, and our skewed childhood somewhere along the way. It made her neither good nor bad. There were other qualities that decided that.

There was a time of course before she was stolen from me, before there was mounting pressure at all. It coincided with our skewed childhood. Happy pockets of time littered those years; some separated by lengthy stretches, others fell together side by side.

In those days, the sun hated our exposed skin. We tumbled inside, sweat-drenched and dark as ebony without a single care. Water lapped our feet and sand rubbed between our toes before we ran, head first, into rising, salty waves. We shrieked at each other, triumphant glee or sour disappointment bursting from our throats, over endless card games. The wind whistled in our ears as we biked, hands-free, down steep hills. The heavy scent of flowers filled the evening breeze as our mother braided jasmines and marigolds into our hair. She whispered to me in the pitch-black night as we lied in our bed. We muffled our giggles in our blankets. Two feet away, our mother drowsily told us to shut up. Our father was already snoring and dead to the world. She grasped my hand and asked for a story. I weaved her a fantastical tale of magic, the struggle for power, and a battle for peace. Somewhere near the end, still holding hands, we fell asleep.

Suddenly I can’t bear to look at the woman. Blinking furiously, I pretend to consider the beauty of nature as wistful anguish ravages my heart. Eventually, I sigh and turn back to find her looking at me.

“The jasmines are beautiful, aren’t they?” I feel bitter over how mundane her comment is and how easily she swallows my deceit.

“Yeah, they are. Remember when ma used to braid them into our hair?” The woman’s face closes and her eyes flicker. Something like hope rises in my chest. I hold my breath and stare expectantly. My sister hates those times. There were too many poisonous words in harsh voices and raised hands; too many broken bottles, ringing shots, and prejudice. It drove her to excel, to spite everything that pushed her down. But there was too much pain that accompanied our bliss for her to love any of it.

The shadow that crossed her face is destroyed by a relentless light. “Not really, it was such a long time ago and I’m no good for memory. But I’m not surprised that she did - mothers usually do that for their daughters.”

My heart beats hard as it falls - split between anger and grief. “Oh. Yeah. Yeah, I suppose.” It’s hard to sound emotionless when the woman’s smiling at me but I try my best. Wretched silence falls upon us again.

My sister is almost never quiet with me. Even when we fight and she ignores my existence, it’s all too easy to provoke her into a screeching, fist fight. We did not argue a lot in our youth; that changed, as many things did, when we grew older. We are both obstinate people, so when we did fight it was war. As children, I only had to wait until the apartment was empty for us to reconcile; a common circumstance as both our parents worked long hours. It was hard for her to ignore my apologies in a one bedroom apartment; especially when she was expected to care for me as the eldest. Later in life, especially while she was far away in university, I would wait weeks and then months for her forgiveness as pressure drove her to hostility. She grew too sensitive and I grew too blatant for us. A wall of our own fury was erected every time we clashed and dismantled every time we made peace.

The woman is sweet and innocent as a lamb. There is nothing that she is passionate about; nothing that propels her to be livid; nothing that prompts her to search for answers. She is nothing like my sister and the knowledge burns me.

My sister is the pinnacle of academic accomplishment. She had the highest average of her grade in every year of school. Her awards and degrees fill the walls. A stack of her research proposals lay waiting on her desk, as is her work in her own lab. She was accepted into prestigious universities and medical schools under thousands of dollars in scholarships. My heart is yet to stop swelling with fierce pride when I think about her every achievement.

My heart is yet to stop cracking when I think about her every achievement.

It was pressure that shoved her over the edge. There is no other explanation for what happened. Doctors are unsure of what caused her coma. But I know her best and I know that her need for success and everything bad finally suffocated her.

It took seventy-six days of lying in a hospital bed, with shallow breathing and tubes sticking out of her, for her to wake up. She did not panic when she woke up. She calmly laid there as doctors rushed around her. I felt fear slip down my throat as I watched her. My sister demands answers immediately, she overreacts, she becomes hysterical. I was told that her ease was a good sign, that it signified her understanding of what was happening. I let that appease me.

She was beaming contently in her cot as she looked out the window when I was allowed to see her again. The sight disturbed me being so contradictory to my sister. I ran and pulled her into a hug, sobbing into her shoulder, anyway. She embraced me back. For a second I believed everything would be alright.

But then she asked, “I’m sorry, but who are you?”

I fell away from her and screamed.

It has been many years of revulsion, denial, rage, and despair since then. Everyone else has abandoned any hope for my sister coming back. I cannot.

The woman is happy. My sister is happy. It is selfish of me to crave for my sister’s return when she was so unhappy in her own thoughts. But enduring the agony of being without her is too grueling. I look at the woman, my sister, and say, “Hey, we should go back to the house. It’s getting late.”

She smiles, her eyes are amicable and cheerful but lacking all of our history and love. “Yes, you’re right. Let’s go.”

I envelop her into a tight hug before we leave our darkening garden. She hugs me back and tears prick my eyes. There are stars peeking out in the sky now. I want to curse them for doing this to us. I can’t give up on my sister; I need her back.

But she is happy now, joyous even. The thought crawls out of a corner of my brain and brands itself onto my heart. I close my eyes as I feel defeat creep into me.

Y'all what fresh hell is this. This is actively horrifying. I'm not on Twitter, thank god, so I haven't seen the hate on Nora to this extent. These are her characters????

In conclusion, I have nothing productive to say I just wanted to say I am so sorry to Nora (@korakos) if she ever sees this and jesus fucking christ, what.

Also, @lyndiscealin, that's a really valid point and fear. All I can really say is that I hope assholes dont stymie you at all in your works and mental health and best of luck

I really hate the twitter aftg fandom. People were hating on Nora and saying all this shit about her and were like "I'd be scared of the fandom and leave social media too if I wrote such shitty takes" and hating on her for the EC???? And calling her a bigot and all of these really rude things even though she was always so nice and interactive with her fans. like what the fuck y'all, why are you even in the fandom if you hate her so much? "They're OUR characters now" ok bitch??? Then go write your own fanfics and shit, no one cares what you do with them because they're fictional characters anyways. Just like how Nora can say what she thinks would happen with the characters after the books were completed. It's not like the EC is set in stone anyways, she CHOSE not to write those things into the story for a reason and said multiple times that we can choose what we think happens.

And people were calling HER misogynist and a "woman hater" for no fuckin reason too smfh, because she said Andrew is misogynistic. Which he kinda IS, and tbh he has valid reasons for being like that. He doesn't hate ALL women and Nora never said he does, but of course he has some feelings of resentment towards a lot of women because how he felt betrayed by his own mother.

But like look at this shit smh. If any of these people are you then LOL block me IDC, I don't want your negative attitude on my dash anyways

Oh this makes me so genuinely happy (T.T)

Blessed_Nest

IM CRYING THIS IS SO FUNNY

coming home from the failed siege at the burial mounds and ur son is looking at u weird bc you’ve always sworn that the yiling laozu was a ruthless savage beast who snapped ur arms and legs personally and y’all just spent the last 6 hours watching a charismatic twink in the presidents underwear do group conflict resolution

speed

(via)

if anyone needs me i'll be frothing at the mouth thinking about the origin of language and interspecies communication. happy wednesday.

aftg au but Tilda gave Andrew to his father who is the head of another mob family part four (parts 1 - 2 - 3)

It wasn't difficult to convince Neil to sign in with the foxes, Andrew just had to say exy five times and Neil said you got me there. Andrew called his father and told him about Nathaniel

you see, Andrew's father wanted to take down the Moryimas and he wasn't nearly strong enough, but if Andrew played his cards right he could use Neil to make a deal with the Harfords because when Mary and Nathaniel went to Andrew's father, he wasn't powerful enough to even think about it. But now??? if they talk, they could eat the Moryimas in a fancy plate. just the second branch actually, but still fancy plate and golden spoon. Diamond knife maybe.

however, it was dangerous. Andrew's father didn't send his son as a spy inside the Nest because Andrew would end up dead or kidnapped and it would be for nothing. Having Kevin and Neil with him will not get Andrew killed as easily but it would bring attention and danger to Andrew anyway

not that Andrew's father is weak, actually he is so powerful that i cant even say his name. Is not me without creativity for a name, noo, is the mob families and the FBI threatening me

When Neil arrived, Andrew, Aaron, Nicky and Kevin were waiting for him at the airport. Kevin didn't trust Andrew with the new kid because maybe just maybe when Andrew said he convinced Neil to join the team, he also said "i hate him, he's stupid. Gonna end up dead"

he does hate Neil (Neil didn't like the name Nathaniel so Andrew was using Neil and Abram to call him), because the junkie insisted on asking Andrew to admit that he likes exy. how dare him

Andrew was surprised when Neil said hi to him and not to Aaron, both of them were wearing black and had similar hair cut but Neil just stare at them and found Andrew.

andrew: whats this warm felling inside my heart

aaron: new kid has eyes, good for them

they talked in the car and Neil crushed Nicky's dream saying that he doesn't swing.

andrew: why im sad??

Andrew did not told Nicky that the rabbit was all around the world and probably knew germany so Nicky gossiped about Neil being so so handsome until Andrew glared at him

Later, when they were at Wymack's he promised that he was safe, that Wymack wasn't a bad men.

His fake brown eyes were bright like the sun when he saw the court (Andrew wanted to punch him then carefully cup his face and take off that fake brown so he could see the strong blue after so many years)

the days passed with Kevin training with them and Andrew and Neil telling each other truths, Andrew made a deal with Neil, if Neil stayed, Andrew would protect him, Neil is keeping Kevin's interest anyway. Nicky loved Neil and Aaron ignored Neil

When the upperclassmen arrived and the coach said the Ravens changed districts Andrew guessed that Kevin already knew because he wasn't panicking, so Andrew made Kevin understand that it wasn't okay hide important things from people who want to protect you, Kevin!

what Andrew didn't understood was why Neil wasn't running? like he is owned by the Ravens, Andrew's father said so, why Riko coming closer wouldn't be a reason for Neil to go in rabbit mode?

did he trusted Andrew's protection that much? Oh, no, the warm felling again Andrew will ignore it. Fellings aren't real if you ignore them enough.

but no, Neil didn't knew that he is owned by the Moryimas, they were in the roof when Andrew told him and Neil stopped breathing and looked ready to run. Andrew hold him by his neck and said "We have a deal, rabbit, do your part and I will protect you", then they smoked in silence for a long time

Dan and Matt were quick in adopting Neil and saying that they were sorry about the monsters

Neil had to bite his tongue until he felt the blood so he wouldn't defend Andrew.

Neil learned to like Matt and Dan eventually, they were nice and when Neil said stop calling them monster or die by my hands! they stopped.

Andrew told Neil about Renee, not her secrets, just enough to not startle the rabbit

even so, the rabbit was startled. she had something dark, but she was trying to be better, she was sweet and nice. Neil could see she and Andrew dating like Matt said

(when Neil asked about it, Andrew's ears went pink and he glared at Neil for solid five minutes then said "ask Renee", when Neil did, Renee told him Andrew is gay)

Allison and Seth. Neil hated them. They just wouldn't stop calling Andrew a monster, it was so annoying that Andrew had to hold Neil to stop him from punching Seth and gutting Allison

after Neil screamed at Seth "who the fuck do you think you are to judge people? say shit about Andrew's lot but they are your team, respect them or you are too perfect for that? You, drugged out of you mind? What's wrong with you? Are you jealous of Kevin because if you are, just get better than him! You have potential but you throw it away, you throw everything away, you can't even hold your relationship for more than 3 days! Wake up, Gordon, stop hiding behind your hate" things got better

slowly the foxes would learn team work but not at time for their first game, they lost but it wasn't so ugly, it was better than usual, better enough that they had an interview

What a fat mood, I havent even thought about my wips 😅

I can't decide which andreil wip to work on ;____;