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queer-and-dear-books · 2 years

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Title: The Charm Offensive

Author: Alison Cochrun

Content Warnings: Homophobia | Biphobia | Racism | [All from one character]

Overall Rating: 9.9/10

Personal Opinion: The Bachelor but make it gay. No, this doesn’t mean one guy dating multiple men. This means the bachelor falls in love with his male handler and they embark on this thrilling, romantic ride of an adventure while on the show. Every moment made my heart swell in the best way possible and in the end, I had fallen for Dev and Charlie as well. As I’m sure you all would too. Them and their found family of queers.

Couple Classification: Dev Deshpande X Charles Winshaw = Nerd X Prep/Nerd

Do I Own This Book? I want to. One day.

Spoilers Below For My Likes & Dislikes:

Likes:

- Okay, I’ve only recently seen the appeal of reality TV with my brief fall into Big Brother. That being said, I still loathe the Bachelor franchise. I hate the heteronormative, toxic, female VS female storylines that they push and I hate the attention-seeking drama hogs that are cast every season. That is why this book is amazing. It completely subverts all those tropes by having an incredibly diverse cast and crew. I mean, we have the bachelor himself, the prince in this case, Charles Winshaw. He’s a tech mogul with a hot body who has severe anxiety and OCD. He’s also on the ace spectrum (probably) and gay (although he was repressed and didn’t even realize it). His love interest is his openly gay handler, Dev Deshpande who is desi and is suffering from depression. We have Jules Lu, Chinese and bi. We have Parisa Khadim, pan and brown. We have Skylar Jones, black and ace, with a non-binary partner. We have Ryan Parker who is the queer white guy. We have Angie and Daphne, the final two girls in the competition who are both queer! (Lesbian and bisexual respectively) And it was just so amazing watching this journey as Charlie and Dev fell in love and became this found family with everyone else.

- Charlie and Dev are just so adorable. They’re so patient and understanding with one another. When Charlie had his panic attacks, Dev was by his side. He never judged Charlie for his “quirks” and he paid so much attention to Charlie that he learned his coping skills like tapping out “calm” in morse code or breathing three times. He didn’t need Charlie to tell him those things. He just did everything he could to calm Charlie and accommodate his needs to make his experience on the show as pleasant and tolerable as possible.

- Likewise, when Dev had his depressive episode in Munich, Charlie stayed. When others left and were pushed away like Ryan and Jules, Charlie chose to stay. Because Charlie knew what it was like to push people away when all he wanted was for them to stay. And he was there for Dev every time. They knew when the other one was spiraling and instinctively went to look for one another when they were on set and it just made their chemistry so great to witness. It’s no surprise that literally all of their friends knew they were together.

- I love how this book strongly advocates for therapy and talking about how you don’t need to have your sexuality figured out at any specific point in time. For Dev, he was five. And for Charlie, he was twenty-eight. Both are okay and valid. And I love that they made each other feel valid. And for Dev, who was so afraid of being seen as not Fun Dev for going to therapy, I am so happy that Jules, Skylar, Parisa, and Charlie all talked about their own experiences in therapy to make him feel valid too.

- Okay, Dev flying Parisa out to be with her best friend on his birthday and Charlie flying out Leland Barlow, Dev’s favorite pop singer, to do a concert in Cape Town, South Africa, was just so sweet of them both! It made me feel so giddy too, just seeing them have fun at that concert especially after that big fight they had. Like Dev knew he was a dick and Charlie still did this for him all because of the depressive episode. I want a sugar daddy that will do that for me.

- And Charlie reading Dev’s entire script and loving it and telling Dev that it needs to be sold even though it’s about brown men falling in love is just so adorable and validating? I love that so much, especially as a writer. And the fact that Charlie realized his feelings after reading it was just so, so great! And the way he realized that his OCD wasn’t triggered when he was close to Dev and only Dev was just so sweet. Ugh, they’re just so fucking sweet!

- Their respective best friends are so funny and confident and I adore them. Jules and Parisa knew that their best friends were fucking and set them up at almost every turn. Parisa especially is hilarious and just brilliant. She was ready to sue Ever After for discrimination and became their new head of HR. She gave Charlie condoms, lube, and vividly drawn diagrams of anal sex. She is a queen on every level. And then we have Jules with that “practice date” idea and also pretending she couldn’t be his fake girlfriend so she can push the Dev/Charlie agenda.

- I knew that that ending was going to happen. I knew that they were going to slap all of the footage that they could find of Charlie and Dev together to create the first ever gay season. But just seeing the storyline the editors made actually play out was just so amazing. And getting to see Dev’s reaction for all 12 hours of it was just so pure. And the fact that Mark Davenport just rolled with the punches with his hosting and was essentially a huge fan of them finally just coming together was adorable! Because when Dev burst out on stage to apologize and also profess his love to Charlie, it honestly almost made me tear up. I wish it was real so that I could’ve watched it live.

- Dev’s boundless energy (when he’s not depressed) is so adorable. When he was happy and running through first-class on the airplane, when he was talking about falling in love in a boat, when he wanted to take photos of his version of Charlie to keep for himself, when he was arguing with producers for Charlie’s sake, I can absolutely see why Charlie fell in love. And when Charlie was drunk and talking about how Dev is the most beautiful man in the world and deflecting every gay man’s advance because he wanted them to know that Dev deserved to be loved far more than him, it just meant so much to me as someone with self-confidence issues too.

- Angie and Daphne are just so cool honestly. I love the girl power friendships on the show. And Angie is just a delight in general.

Dislikes:

- The only reason why this does not get a perfect score is due to a personal issue. I have beef with Dev. His reaction being to leave the show and ghosting all of his friends was just wrong. He could have just looked at any of their texts and realized he should’ve watched the show earlier. But no, he isolated himself. And for a guy trying to focus on his mental health, I just want to say pushing all of your fucking loved ones to the curb is not the way to do it. I am glad they all confronted him about it because fucking hell, I’d be so mad at him. And I’m glad he apologized to Charlie. But yeah, if Jules and Parisa beat the hell out of him, I would not have blamed them for that. He really ditched them all and his lovesick mentally ill lover too. Fuck. And his parents were watching Ever After and they just didn’t think to encourage him to watch too? I get they (and his therapist, Alex) were all trying to respect his boundaries but FUCK. Three whole months of radio silence and Charlie sent him a whole ass voicemail basically pouring his whole heart out and I just hated him for a solid four pages.

- Fuck Maureen Scott. She was the showrunner and she was just a monster. She really said, “I can’t be queerphobic, I hired all these queer employees.” And in that same breath, demonized Angie, a black bi woman. She said their next princess couldn’t be bisexual and that’s just so wrong. I’m glad she got fired and I’m glad the next princess ended up being lesbian. Let’s fucking go Daphne! I am actually less mad at Maureen than I am at Dev and the rest of the crew for never even trying to stand up to her in the past. Granted, they didn’t have the privilege and power that Charlie did as a cis white man with money but still. Well, at least Skylar admitted that they’d been complicit for too long. Charlie really pulled a power move at the end though when he got them to reedit and overhaul everything.

- I don’t know how I feel about Ryan. I do get why he broke up with Dev but damn, he really did act like a dick in the beginning. He didn’t even own up to it. He just let Dev be depressed and made no real effort to care about him. He claims he cares about Dev and didn’t want Dev to be in the closet for Charlie but he does not know how to be even a little empathetic toward people. He’s insensitive and abrasive and I wish we saw more of his caring side earlier.

- Fuck Megan too. And Delilah as well. And Maureen for sending them into Charlie’s room for that altercation. And also sending in that one boyfriend to just deck Charlie in the face. But I do love that we saw Charlie grow over the course of the show through that. He couldn’t speak up for that girl when her boyfriend was calling her slut but he spoke up against Delilah calling Megan “crazy.” And he later stood up to Maureen when literally no one else did. He had severe anxiety and he did that. He stuck to his morals and stuck to the love he had for Dev and I respect that so fucking much. Especially after all that Ryan said about him. I think that was the point Ryan realized that Charlie really was good for Dev.

- I’m still mad at Dev.

- Also a bit at Charlie and Dev for not getting together sooner. Like, I get why they couldn’t but the fact that they wouldn’t admit it wasn’t just practice sooner is just so mind-numbingly stupid to me. You’re telling me everyone else around them realized they were in love and they were out here just fervently making out and then going, “He doesn’t feel the same.” Then again, both of them somehow grew up thinking that they didn’t deserve love. Charlie I get after everything he’d gone through with his bigoted brothers and close-minded father and smug dudebro co-worker Josh Han. Dev, I get a lot less. So I am once again mildly mad at Dev. I just wish he would’ve reached out to Charlie or watched the damn show! I mean, I get why he refused to watch but his parents could’ve at least told him about the edit he was getting!

- I’m still mad at Dev for icing out Charlie like that. Charlie was just the sweetest person and Dev just… UGH. But they were back together in the end and I am glad they are. I just wish the road to getting there hadn’t been so stupid.

#Booklr #Booksbooksbooks #Book Blog #Book Review #Book Recs #The Charm Offensive #Alison Cochrun #LGBTQ #Queer Books #Queer Lit #Queer Representation

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cavehags · 4 years

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I know you've talked/reblogued about how lesbophobia and biphobia against women are essentially the same thing (Very eye opening btw!) and I'm cujrious if you've ever talked/thought about the differences in homophobia against gay/bi men and homophobia against lesbian/Bi women! If you don't want to talk about it just ignore, but I love hearing your opinions on stuff!

yeah so just like with the “lesbophobia”/“biphobia” stuff, i think these are different manifestations of the same violent bigotry.

homophobia is the resistance to anything that undermines the gender roles that support the patriarchy. it is an offshoot of misogyny in that way. through homophobia, both gay/bi women and gay/bi men are punished for living our lives in ways that are not prescribed by gender roles. if men and women can live happily alone or in same-gender relationships, that undermines the party line of the patriarchy that says that the sexes are opposites and need each other. in a society governed by this expectation, all men are kept straining to perform masculinity while all women must not only perform their role, but also do so while trapped in a weakened and subservient social position.

homophobia limits and punishes gay men and gay women differently, but we’re still being disciplined for the same “crime.” the way men are steered away from forming intimate friendships with other men, even in childhood, allows internalized homophobia to root itself very deeply in men. physical violence is also normalized among men to a certain extent, from childhood bullying to gay-panic-motivated hate crimes. on the other hand, since homophobia is a function of misogyny, it hits women hard in a range of subtle and explicit ways. girls are conditioned to rely on men for validation and survival no matter what, and that can inhibit the process of self-discovery or severely limit a woman’s options if she chooses to live without a male partner. compulsory heterosexuality is maintained through the all-encompassing culture around sex and romance for girls. there is also an institutional element to this; throughout history, the social order of the patriarchy has used norms and institutions to prevent women from living without men. and like men, women are also subject to violence for deviation, with corrective rape being one example.

significantly, since men are the dominant class, in some societies and in some limited contexts men have shown other men some degree of leniency. men living alone or with another man throughout history have at least been able to support themselves financially, while women have been denied that freedom. men throughout history also had access to the public sphere, so even a gay man married to a woman could live a whole life outside the home. life for gay men would not have been free or easy, and in many cases the punishment for being discovered would have been severe, but for gay women there is an added dimension of constraint that is obviously a function of misogyny.

all this is to say that while the expressions of homophobia obviously differ, and the specific types of behaviors that are discouraged vary between women and men, the chief goal of homophobia in maintaining the patriarchal social order is the same.

there’s also obviously a lot of intra-community infighting that illuminates how deeply homophobic biases are rooted even in gay people. it’s a common trend for gay and bi women to downplay the homophobia that gay and bi men experience and distance themselves from them as if repulsed. this is especially true online. just think of the memeification of the term “gay panic” or the past decade of artists trying to canonize a “lesbian flag” separate from the all-purpose rainbow flag. or consider the homophobic, serophobic stereotypes that tend to orbit any discussion of how gay men approach sex and partying compared to how lesbians do. i have personally observed many lesbian and bi women, especially those my age and younger, half-jokingly saying that cis gay men don’t deserve a voice in queer circles. while that may be partially a joke (and while i remain mystified about what “a voice in queer circles” even means), this claim reflects a lot of ignorance about what gay men have to fear from homophobic society and why they are obviously qualified to speak on gay issues. and then on the flip side, many gay men gravitate toward feminine gender expression as an act of resistance, but are unable to make sense of women who repudiate the feminine gender expression standards that were beaten into them growing up. weight-based stigma is also common in some gay male circles. lesbians who are fat or unfeminine are often the butt of the joke among gay men whose perfectly understandable concentration on their own self-image has led them to become judgmental of women’s as well.

to be clear, i do not believe that there is an inherent animosity between gay men and lesbians, and i hope the first part of this post clearly lays out why our communities have so much in common that we should be able to find safety with each other. but our society is homophobic, and homophobic beliefs and stereotypes drive us apart. i think the ability to create hypercurated microcommunities on social media is largely to blame. it is very easy for lesbians on twitter or wherever to only hear from other lesbians and somehow come away with homophobic misunderstandings about what gay men’s lives are like. i would like to see us rally together but social media makes that very hard. we should be uplifting each other and talking to each other about our lives instead of fracturing our community and fueling the homophobia that is only going to hurt us.

#anyway this is why i have the tag “lesbian flag” blacklisted on this site lol

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arks-self-ship · 4 years

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Hi!😊 I just wanted to ask about your F/O and your S/I? Just about you guys in general since I don't really know much yet 🥺👉🏼👈🏼 though I do know that you are so cute together 💜

Ah that's fair! I mostly just talk vaguely about them because I don't stick to one specific timeline and just bounce around ideas. Also thank you >////<

My basic F/O and S/I list are linked in my bio but there's not a lot about the relationship, so I'll probably link this to that soon. If you have any specifics you want to know I'm happy to answer those too! I am working on ref sheets of all my main AUs so hopefully soon there will be faces to attach with each one!

(This ended up being way longer than I thought, so I put it under a read more!)

Classic Blue

Kurt's always so helpful and sweet, helping my S/I. I tend to jump around the timeline, usually it's classic new team stuff, but sometimes it's Excalibur or when Logan ran the school. They are there to support each other. Ark is always blunt when it comes to helping him face problems he may not always know are there because that's what he needs, not dancing around the topic. Meanwhile Ark is slow to confront problems, and they can usually realize their problems and Kurt is there to be a support and help them at their own pace. I like doing the storyploints of him having to confront his foster family on a lot of nonsense from when he grew up, them helping him get used not to using his image inducer, and confronting the professor on a lot of his bullshit together. He's my default to think about and is definitely a huge comfort for me

Goldy

Goldy's important because he makes Ark actually feel important and special. He adores them so much, even at their worst. They're his source of comfort, and when they get together he is very much not in a good place but they are his rock while he works to get better. A lot of hurt/comfort with them, going both ways as theyre both healing from severe past trauma. Lots of late nights of nightmares and insomnia too. Fun secret dating stuff for a bit too. Kurt is also sort of a younger brother to Logan in this. W/eapon X hugely fucked him up, but he was only there for about a year. Main plot points I go back to are Kurt almost having the complete mental break he has in the canon ultimates comics but with Ark being there to bring him back to reality and help him (the start of their relationship too), dealing with the fact theyre kinda trapped and don't have a choice to not be X/men, and Ark preventing the ultimatum. Probably the one I focus on the most lately

Three

Three is what Goldy could have become, spending several years as part of the w/eapon X program (also being much younger when he was taken, about 13) and it broke him. It's all about the protective tough guy and soft squishy shorter one dynamic. He gets so easily lost in his paranoia and is so distanced from everyone and tends to scare people, but Ark helps ground him and connect him to those around him. Before Ark the only one he got along with was Logan, and that's because he goes with Logan to track down smaller branches program and shut them down. But now he's actually become (sort of) friends with the rest of the team! Specifically their friend group is Ark, Kurt, Piotr, Warren and Alison (Goldy has the same friend group but with rogue too) and theyre the only ones who have really gotten to know him. He has much less qualms about killing when he needs to and is very skilled at fighting with a variety of weapons. The main plot points I have are him not only slowly coming to terms with his PTSD but also Ark helping him learn to cope, Him confronting what he could have been by eventually going back to his family after years of not seeing them and realize he doesn't belong there anymore

Goldy and Three do have some overlapping plot points because they have the same roots which I'll mention here

-Being kidnapped because after a fight with his foster mom he ran off into the woods, which wasn't uncommon for him to do when upset but that's when he was taken

- Returning to his family to visit after being gone so long and trying to not only for in the place of who he once were but his family realizing something deeply changed about him. For Goldy he keeps going back to visit until it reaches a boiling point and talks very vaguely about it with his brother and his brother knows someone did something to him and his Mom overhears him on the phone with Ark after he has a panic attack from his PTSD. On the other hand Three is quick to realize how he'll never be who they think he is again, and doesn't visit often but keeps in contact.

-Though whatever methods he ends up meeting his dad A/zazel, who in this universe (cause I say so) isn't locked away in another reality and wanting to conquer this one. Instead he lives way way out in the countryside, having retired from his life of crime (how he met M/ystique, Kurt's mom) and settled down with a wife. He had 4 kids, A boy named Arthur who's 13, a girl named Jezabell (16), and the twins (9). Kurt ends up finding a lot of comfort in the family he never knew he had, and A/zazel never knew about Kurt and just considered M/ystique the one who got away. Three is a lot more cautious about this than Goldy is, but ends up having deep conversations with his dad that are very vaguely about what happened to him that Goldy wouldn't have.

Nighty

Nighty has had the same story since I first started self shipping, although details have changed over time. It's all about young dumb love, being deeply in love with your best friend and just the feeling of driving down the road to get out of the house with the windows down and blasting music and singing together. A lot of it is just fun dumb stuff, lots of shenanigans as their relationship is very casual. The most angsty it gets is Kurt very slowly comes to terms with the fact he's gay (also Nighty is the only version who's specifically gay, other AUs he's Bi). Big plot points I go back to are Kurt first realizing he's gay and going to Kitty cause the only other queer one on the team (that he knows of) is Ark and he likes him!!! He can't ask him about it!, Kurt and Ark just chilling together and they look over at him and smile and Kurt's heart is just so filled with love he kisses them which cause it catches them so off guard that they freeze and Kurt panics and teleports way (they talk about it later and kiss again), getting used to going to the local college and dealing with being in a new setting, Toad finding out theyre dating by catching them kissing and Ark threatening him if he tells anyone (he doesn't, he's also gay), Rogue finding out cause she borrows Kurt's powers and asking who all knows and Kurt says "Well Kitty, and Toad by accident, and I think Jean and the professor know, and maybe Logan? But he's hard to read so I'm not sure". Just a lot of fun secret dating shenanigans cause Kurt isn't ready to come out yet

To be honest those are the biggest ones to know? Big blue, Red and Band are so loose there's not really anything to talk about?

Big blue it's all about the big protective magical monster boyfriend, Red it's about the hurt comfort but darker this time (and usually has a different S/I than Ark) and with Band it's all about the band aesthetic and helping him heal

#Sorry this took so long to answer! its been a busy day #rosepetalcharm #•baby boy blue•#•baby blue boy x ark•#•ark insert•#•classic baby blue•#•baby blue nighty•#•baby blue three•#•baby blue goldy•#•ark world lore•#•answered•ask•

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chaoticoconut · 5 years

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1, 6, and 18! 💛

💛💛💛

these will be long as hell I'm sorry lmao

1. for as long as I can remember I've felt attracted to women and drawn to the community. I grew up watching Saturday Night Live with my parents, which I think is where I first encountered homosexuality but a close second was on this other skit show (whose name I can't find for whatever reason) where girl a was getting engaged to her boyfriend and girl b, the best friend and roommate, was freaking out and it ended with girl b kissing her and I don't know why its stuck with me for over a decade but I used to spend so much time up late at night thinking about what love was or why we kiss each other but I never once considered I was anything other than normal until elementary school. Everytime my friend and I stumbled across two girls kissing in pop culture or really any gay representation for that matter we'd tell each other about it and it became this weird fixation of ours until an older girl overheard us and called us weird and gay and I remember I went home and cried and cried because being weird and gay were obviously synonymous at my Texas charter elementary school and would have a negative impact on my life if people found out.

I didn't start taking those "am I gay" quizzes till about 5th or 6th grade. I had forced all homosexuality into a very taboo box for me and when I didn't like this one (very creepy, I might add) boy back in 6th grade and I told my parents, I remember getting this really adverse reaction from my mother ("well then what are you?") that perpetually kept me fully closeted for another year. That being said, I knew I was attracted to boys too. I think I had my first real crush on a boy in 3rd grade, but before that I had liked Wilbur Robinson and Peter Pan and Justin Bieber and Taylor Lautner for Christ's sake so I had it in my mind that even if I weren't fully straight I could pass as everyone else's normal and not face the repercussions of being weird and gay. I'd still marry a man and have kids like every other female role model I my life at the time. I felt a lot of guilt during puberty and had tremendous gay panic thinking I had to be one thing or another or even one thing in secret and I was lying to myself in some way about my feelings and then my dad's friend (or my self appointed aunt actually) came out to everyone after having been married to a man for several years. As 7th grade rolled around one of my friends came out as transgender. And the internet finally seemed to really give a shit about the LGBT+ community, and the world felt bigger, and I felt more comfortable giving myself exceptions ("maybe you could have a girlfriend in college but still marry a man"). I discovered flannels, I had gay ships (Harley and Ivy saved my whole life), all my friends were coming out at an increasing rate, and suddenly all sorts of people were attractive to me. The quizzes called what I was bisexual. A pretty girl I knew identified as bi/pan (I can't remember what it was at the time, she changed labels a lot those days) I had met at a birthday party just a few days before asked me over breakfast if I liked girls.

I damn near choked on my toast.

And against every voice screaming in my head to just say no and that it wasn't worth it, I told her the truth and within a few days we were dating. Granted, it was only about 3 days the first time, I finally had one thing straight: I was a legitimate bisexual (pardon the pun).

Then everyone found out and called me a lesbian and I was back in the hole. I didn't want to be a lesbian, not because somehow that was more weird and gay than being a bisexual, but because that wasn't who I was. And I knew that much about myself. I had a lot of internalized oppressive tendencies to confront but at least I had some solid footing in my identity. According to my friends my energy was much gayer in middle school and freshman year and I "struggled" with that (I didn't want to shoo away any cute guys but had to accept that even my bisexual identity was polarizing for some) and now I'm here. I'm 16. I'm very confident in my identity. I'm out to almost all of my friends (except for most of my elementary school pals (including the girl who talked about wlw stuff w me bc she's really homophobic now)), some of their families, and one other adult (she was my counselor in the hospital and after like 5 minutes she was like "and are you LGBT or am I mistaken?" and I had to make sure my mom wasn't lurking around the corner before I said yes, honestly my big gay energy is so powerful), and I may or may not tell my dad before I move out (probably not. I've never been very open with my parents about my social or romantic life. Telling him would probably only make things weird or harder for him to trust me going out and doing things lmao). I felt a part of the community for real when my friend came out to me as bisexual for the first time last month and told me my embrace of it helped her come to terms with her own feelings.

6. I don't know how popular of an opinion this is but finding a label that fit me was really empowering. I played around with the idea of pansexuality and demiromanticism and found that in my specific case they held me back more than they defined me. I felt pansexuality was an unnecessary title to hold with the updated and more fluid and forgiving definition of bisexuality and the biphobic tendencies the community had when trying to empower their base but at the same time who am I to tell someone that their label of choice isn't vaild. I don't give a shit. If it is part of you do you. Have your own normal. Everyone else is weird to everyone else anyway. It won't help to reduce yourself to something you aren't. If labels aren't your shit, splendid for you. If they are, that rocks too. Queer is another label I particularly love. It enforces this no confirmative ideal I have. I didn't even begin to rant about Gender & I. I find the word queer the most empowering label of all in the community, because in whole, we are queer, but we're queer together.

18. I love the memes. Lmao. I love feeling connected enough we can laugh about it together. Growing Up Gay memes in particular made me feel so much better about myself. Those memes where both the guy and gal are attractive. I love the sense of style/lack thereof too. There's this lez senior I already have a crush on who just wears whatever the fuck she wants and idk why but I love it and am so inspired.

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voltron-s7-8-rewrite · 5 years

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“The Feud”

This is part of my Voltron Season 7 & 8 re-write. If you are interested start HERE

The Feud

Like every episode, Norlox welcomes us, the viewer, to "Garfle Warfle Snick!", prompting the audience to cheer. He announces our favorite host, Bob, who flies out, sitting on his ever present floating lounger. Bob informs us that there are very special contestants on the show today, and introduces the Paladins of Voltron.

All five Paladins rise up out of the floor, extremely confused as to what’s going on. Just a moment ago they had been traveling in Voltron on their way back to Earth, now they appear to be the midst of an alien game show.

Bob comes over and asks for the Paladins to introduce themselves, bewildered by everything, Keith asks what this is. Bob chastises them for not listening to Norlax, and asks the audience to tell them the name of the show.

The cameraman switches to a view of the audience, where Shiro, Krolia, Romelle, Coran, and even Kosmo are sitting, just as confused as the Paladins. Surrounding them is an audience made out of Bobs who all answer the other Bob with a shout of “Garfle Warfle Snick!".

With that out of the way, Bob once again asks for the Paladin’s names. Keith tells him, and asks how they got there; Bob dismisses his question with a joke, and continues asking the others for their names.

Once everyone is introduced, Bob begins the first game. He explains the usual rules, how they need to accumulate quaz-cenbullion credits to win, and informing them that if they don’t reach the stated amount, they will be trapped in the studio for all eternity.

The Paladins are stunned at his statement. Enraged, Keith says they won’t be wasting their time here, that the universe at stake, and they are leaving. However, Bob snaps his fingers, and the Paladins find their legs bound to the floor. Bob’s jolly behavior turns downright sinister as he tells them that they have been selected as guests on his show, and they will play it for as long as he wants them to. The Paladins, unnerved at the change of his behavior, agree.

Seeing the Paladins understand, he immediately snaps back to his normal jolly self, and calls Keith over for the first game.

Having heard the rules, Krolia turns to the others and says they have to help the Paladins out. She explains while Bob is focused on the game, they can attack. The others agree and stand, walking down one the aisle, only to return to their vacant seats from the other side. They are shocked and turn around, only to see their vacant seats behind them.

Refusing to give up, Krolia motions the isle below them, and they start hopping over the seats, much to the displeasure of the Bobs they are stepping over. Walking down several rows, they once again end up on the isle with their vacant seats. Realizing they are stuck here, the five sit down, angered and annoyed.

Pulling Keith up to the main stage, Bob explains the first game, Pictation. With it being like the human game, “Pictionary”, Keith is able to easily understand and play.

While Bob puts Keith through some extra humiliation by pulling his hair up and sticking a pacifier in his mouth, the Black Paladin takes it in stride and concentrates on the game as the timer starts.

Allura is able to guess his first drawing of an Arusan, while Pidge gets the second with his drawing of a Marmoran Blade. Lance figures out the third picture of a Bytor, and while Hunk guess the fourth being one of the Voltron Lions, Bob says he need to be more specific. Hunk tries to quickly list the different lions, as Keith draws some flames, but the time runs out before he can say the right one, so they don’t get that final point.

Bob talks to the audience some more, while Keith is returned to where the others are. Hunk apologizes, but Keith assures him it’s not his fault, and tells the Paladins that if the only way to get out of here it to play along, then fine, they are going to destroy Bob at his own games. They agree, and the five are fired up and ready to take the game show host down.

Returning to the Paladins, Bob picks Lance for the next game’s contestant, but breaks for a word from the show’s sponsors.

In the audience, the others are still looking glum and annoyed, all except for Coran, who’s starting to enjoy the game.

Kosmo, sitting in one of the seats, teleports away only to reappear in the exact same spot.

Krolia, Romelle, and Shiro sigh in frustration as Coran claps with the audience Bobs as the show returns.

Coming back, Bob asks for the next game, which Norlax reveals to be “Garflater”. Bringing in a special guest, Bii-boh-Bi, Lance is told the rules. He must answer five questions correctly in Bii-Boh-Bi’s native language.

Lucky for him, Lance had learned a bit of the language in order to talk with fans during Voltron’s shows. He hopes it will be enough, and the Paladins encourage him on. Bob says there can’t be any communication between Lance and his team, and has an isolation shield dropped around him.

Bii-boh-Bi asks his questions, and Lance takes it slow, trying to answer. He gets all but the last one right, and is returned to his spot.

The others console him, and complain about having to answer in another language. Bob tells them that if they didn’t want to play the games, they shouldn’t have come on. Pidge snaps that he forced them here, but he ignores her and moves onto the next game, calling Hunk up.

Bob tells Hunk the rules for the game he gets to play; he's going to be shown a series of photos of people that the Paladins met on their journey, all he has to do is correctly name them. Hunk panics, saying they’ve met a lot of people, but Bob starts the game.

First up is Antok, who Hunk knows, but he has a hard time remember his name. He feels horrible, saying that he lost his life while helping the Paladins fight, and that his death really impacted Kolivan. Saying that triggers his name, and Hunk quickly says it.

The next is Swirn, who Hunk instantly remembers, explaining that she helped save him and Lance from being brainwashed, then helped take down a creature that was harvesting her people.

After her is N7, a cyborg Rebel friend of Matt’s who Hunk says he met and really got along with after the battle of Naxzela.

And the final image is Klaizap, who Hunk fondly remembers as the third alien he ever met.

With that, the game is over, and thanks to his caring and altruistic personality, the Paladin’s score was greatly boosted. The Paladin’s, as well as the rest of the group in the audience cheer for him.

Allura and Pidge are chosen for the final game, “Bankchannel”. The two must answer a series of questions as they run through an obstacle course. Every question wrong causes more obstacles to hinder their path. The goal is to get to the end line before the timer runs out.

The two start off and work together, Pidge answering the questions while Allura gets them through the obstacles.

However, halfway through the two put their own plan into motion. As Bob floats nearby, rather than helping Pidge over an obstacle, Allura turns and throws her at Bob, allowing her to tackle the host to the ground.

In the audience Krolia, Shiro, and Romelle excitedly cheer Pidge and Allura on, as Coran and the other Bobs stare in shock.

Pidge holds Bob down, as Allura runs over. They demand to be released, but an alarm starts blaring, and immediately the two girls are back with the other three Paladins at their podiums, everything having returned to normal.

Bob announces the final round of the game; the Paladins must vote for one of their team members to stay, trapped in the audience forever, while the others will be released. He gives them a moment to vote. The Paladins all glance at each other, the prospect of leaving one of their own behind is unthinkable. Slats come up, cutting their view of each other off. They all step up to their podium and take their pens, none of them hesitate with their answer. They all know who the right person to stay is.

Bob comes over for their answers, and one by one each of the Paladins reveal that they voted for themselves to be the one left behind.

Bob once again loses his cheerful personality as he sees this. The Paladins prepare for the worst, but he snaps back to normal and jolly self tells them that they all get to leave.

He then turns to us and ends the show, snapping his fingers and causing the Paladins to disappear in a flash of light.

With the Paladins gone, Norlox asks Bob why the anomaly he sent wasn’t enough. Bob says the anomaly was a trial, but this was the verdict.

Waking up in the Lions, Hunk complains about a horrible dream he just had. Pidge asks if it was about "Garfle Warfle Snick", prompting everyone to realize it wasn’t a dream.

Lance asks what that whole thing was about, but before they can ponder, Keith, voice in a state of disbelief, tells the Paladins to look at their sensors.

They do, and stare in shock as they see that they have reached the Milky Way, despite having still been hundreds of light years off before being pulled into Garfle Warfle Snick.

Not willing to look a gift horse in the mouth, Keith gives the command to head home.

Notes:

So, after the emotional turmoil of the previous stories, and the upcoming darker ones, we need a nice light-hearted story to break things up. However just because it’s lighthearted and fun, doesn’t mean it can’t help progress things in the story and characters. So, I changed some of the games, and who gets to play them, to do just that!

First, I hated how they made Lance look so flippant and uncaring about those who they’ve met by having him not remember their names. So, I changed that game to being played by Hunk, and used the Bii-Boh-Bi game to show that Lance actually cares about those he meets too.

So often Lance is shown interacting with the aliens in a way that makes it look like it’s all about his own self-admiration. Showing here that he actually takes the time to learn things about other species, including taking time to learn bits of their own language, shows that he cares about these peoples and tries connect with them.

And for Hunk, he is a character who is so caring and attentive, I thought not only would he remember the names of the people he’s met, but ways they might have made an impact on him.

The creators having the characters be so flippant with characters, especially ones like Antok who sacrificed his life for the Paladin’s cause, is a horrible thing to show. It’s important that the characters the Paladins meet during the events of this story mean something to them. Because if the Paladins can’t be bothered to remember the names of people who helped and died for them, why should we?

I changed the fourth game, to an obstacle course. I had some kind of “Legend of the Hidden Temple” Temple Run parody in my mind for it, with an added quiz element to it.

I mean, in the show Bob asks who is the “Brainiest” is, to which they all say Pidge; so why is the game mini golf? Because of that, and Allura being the strongest, I thought a team game where they could both use their strengths to get through would be fun.

Finally, I changed the last round for a couple of reasons. For one thing, I don’t like the characters didn't have any issue with just picking one person to go free. You would think that they would say something to each other, or try arguing with Bob about freeing the others. They are supposed to be close, without showing them have any heartache about picking one over the others makes them look like they don’t really care all that much.

By changing it to them having to pick one person to stay, we now get to see that what they said in the last story is true, without hesitation, they were each willing to be the one left behind. They would sacrifice their freedom, their lives for each other.

So, with this fun ‘filler’ story, not only have we shown deeper parts of these characters, by showing how they care and think about the peoples of the universe, but we have shown how much they all truly love each other.

I also didn’t want to leave Krolia, Shiro, Coran, Romelle, and Kosmo out of this story, as we spent most of the last one without them. They might not be Paladins, but they are a vital part of the team, and should not be left out all the time.

Having them in the audience and seeing their reactions to the ridiculousness would be a great way to have humor in the story. Least, I find it better then the “lol, Lance is dumb” ‘humor’ the episode had.

You could even make it worse for them by having them have to wear ridiculous costumes the whole time, giving a nod to shows like “Let’s make a deal”.

Now, about the end with Bob and Norlax ; one of the interviews with the show runners I remember seeing, mentioned that Bob was kind of like Voltron’s version of Q (from Star Trek). Being the Trekkie that I am, I wanted to play that up and imply that this ‘game show’ is Bob’s version of Q’s courtroom. Both the anomaly in the previous episode and this event is Bob’s way of judging the Paladins; testing to see if they are worthy of their positions and if their bonds are strong enough to face what’s coming their way. Which they are. . . . . . . . Oh, and Bob should have totally been voiced by John de Lancie in the actual episode.

Thanks for reading, have a great day!

#voltron #lance voltron #keith voltron #Allura #hunk voltron #voltron pidge #MyVoltronSeasonSummary #mywritings

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the-voice-of-hell · 3 years

Text

Rent is Theft, part 23

Read from the beginning here, read the previous chapter here. Note: My MC is a Filipina trans woman and I am not. If you have notes on that or anything else, hit me up.

***

I turned on the fans, turned off any lights I’d missed before. Don’t panic. The quick increase in the heat was counter to what the internet said about concrete, but maybe that was just because it’s a rather thin layer of the stuff. Nothing supernatural in that, right?

We drank our water. I unlashed the twine that bound the ottomans into my fake bed, so we could space our bodies out a bit more as we lay there. I retied them into two beds, as much as I didn’t want the extra labor. You lay on three ottomans in a row, they’ll slide apart on you over time, and your body will be unconsciously tense as you try to hold them together. That would be more work, ultimately.

So we were on two improvised mini-beds, three feet apart, like a Hays Code era film about a married couple. No implied fucking in this household. The conjugal bed is hidden in the attic, along with the gay stuff and prospering criminals and other contraband concepts.

“Did I apologize for this yet?,” I asked.

“Yeah, stop doing that.” She rolled the bottle on her forehead. The cooling effect wouldn’t last.

“Maybe we should talk about something to take our minds off the heat.”

“I can’t think of what. I don’t wanna tell cute stories when it’s like this, because when I think about the story after that, I’ll think about being hot.”

“Yeah. I could play music.”

“But... same thing.”

“Oh yeah, even worse. I know whenever I hear a song I’ll remember other stuff that was going on when I played it before. Maybe we’ll just talk about cold things, see if we can trick our imaginations.”

“I don’t think my imagination is that good.”

“Alright I thought of something I can do, but will you be OK just layin’ there alone?”

“You’ll be here with me, right?”

“You bet. I was gonna go on my laptop and try to get more job interviews.”

“Good idea. Thank you, Courtney.”

“You don’t have to say that.”

I got my laptop out of the living room and brought it in. I knew running it in that heat was a bad idea, but was getting desperate. I lay down on my belly, chin propped with a thin pillow, arms dangling over the edge of the ottoman to my compy. I turned it on.

It took only a little longer to start up from nothing, but once I was past the loading screens, I found performance still very laggy. Slow background startup operations, I’m sure. But I had a bad feeling and kept my eye glued to the bottom right of the taskbar.

I was waiting for a specific program to load - one that monitored motherboard performance. I wouldn’t have to open it, because once it loaded from startup, it would display the processor temp right there in thumbnail. A useful little thing.

The thumbnail was only part visible glowing red beneath a pop-up window from the program. “Excessive heat alert. Shutdown recommended.” Shit. That made it official. I couldn’t afford for my computer to melt now, so I turned it off.

“My computer won’t work. There goes that idea.”

“Ugh. I’m sorry.”

“We apologize a lot, don’t we?”

She seemed like she wanted to turn her head to face me, but that it would be too much exercise in her current state, and gave up after the most fleeting glance. “Sorry about that.”

“Love you. I’ll think of something to talk about.”

“OK. Just remember.”

“Nothing that will remind you of this later. Roger.” I drank my warm water and pondered it. There was another knock at the door. Fine.

The doorknob was as hot as a hot shower now, initially shocking to the touch, but not scorching. I got it open. “Deandre. Kids. Pretty messed up, huh?”

Deandre said, “Yeah. Feels like we should all get out while we can. This can’t be safe. What are the odds they see us if we just use the stairs, go down one more floor, and hide out in the hall? Ain’t nobody lives on that floor.”

Knobby asked, “Are we gonna be alright? I’m, eh, gettin’ kinda...”

“I don’t know guys. You could try it, I just... I’d hate so much for any of us to get caught now, y’know? It makes me sick.”

“Heat can make you sick,” said Olivia.

“I know it,” I said. “I say, do what feels right. I can’t tell you what to do and I wouldn’t want to.”

“That’s the problem. Nothing feels right,” said Deandre.

“Well, until you make a move, drink plenty of water and rest as much as possible. Guy said one hundred twenty-five degrees for three hours, but that’s up there. Shouldn’t be that bad down here. It shouldn’t.”

“Yeah.”

Me and Leimomi drank more water, as best we could. It’s hard to chug when your body is starting to cook like a hot dog. I searched my mind in increasing desperation.

“Erotic Grime thriller.”

“What? Why?,” she asked.

“Because it was the first thing I thought of, and the less we think of that guy sexually, the better. You won’t wanna remember this later and you won’t.”

“Heh. Fuck it, OK.”

“So Grime is a fast-paced computer programming man in the fast-paced world of computer programming. The office is abuzz with activity. It’s crunch time. That’s when a product is about to hit a big milestone and we’re lagging behind expectation, so we all have to work extra hours.”

“You’re there?”

“Naw, no thanks. Funny I was thinking of myself as part of that world. I never do that, these days. Maybe it was because I’ve been looking at job listings.

Anyway, Grime is burning the midnight oil. He’s wearing his skinny jeans and one of those ‘communist party’ t-shirts that has Karl Marx and Lenin with lampshades on their heads and bottles in hand.”

“Don’t know that one. Hard to imagine.”

“It’s a bright red t-shirt. It shrank in the wash a little bit. Not enough he would throw it away, but a tighter fit than he’d usually go for. In the cold late fall weather his nipples are pressing against the cloth.”

“Ooh.”

“Yeah, they’re ‘green’ buildings, so management skimps on AC in summer and heat in winter. So Grime is there, nippin’ out, but typing so fast, like Sick Boy in Hackers, green matrix code raining down across his screens. He’ll win the day.”

“Does he have cool sunglasses?”

“Is that hot?”

“We’re all too hot right now, Courtney.”

“His midnight black wraparound shades are ink dark portals to a level of Hell that is pure ice. I think there was one of those in Dante’s Divine Comedy. But yeah, frost is forming on the keys. He has to step back, lest he freeze the whole desk like a liquid nitrogen bath.”

“I can’t imagine it.”

“Point is, he’s sexy action cool. And he thinks he’s alone, but he’s wrong. A sound from several cubicles away makes him leap for the katana at his deskside.”

“Like a ninja sword?”

“Exactly. They let guys have those if they have enough corporate spirit.”

“OK.”

“His blade flashes like blue lightning, but nobody falls to his deadly moves. He sees a guy step into the hall.”

“A guy? Huh. A guy? Are they gonna..? Is there a girl in this one?”

“No way. It’s old school slash, baby.”

“Does that mean..?”

“Yup. So he sees the guy stretching and is embarrassed. He tosses the sword into a nearby cubicle, hoping he isn’t noticed.”

“What’s the guy look like?”

“He’s a silver fox. Name is Michael Haeckel, he’s like six foot four. Not chubby like Grime but not too skinny either. You can tell just because he’s that tall and has big hands, he’s packing *redacted*”

“Whoa. Is he real? Did you used to work with him?”

“Yeah.”

“Is it OK to make a dirty story about somebody else?”

“I dunno. We’re getting broiled like baby back ribs in here. Ethics can wait. Anyway, Michael was kinda sleepy and started to get *redacted*”

“Can that happen?”

“If you’re sleepy enough and you are packing *redacted* in my story. So the outline of *redacted* is pretty visible in his acid wash jeans, and Grime is like, whoa, shit. He hopes he wasn’t noticed. He lucked out. Michael does notice his situation though and picks up a clipboard fake casual to hold over his *redacted* while he goes to say hi.

‘Hey Graeme,’ Michael says. ‘Hey,’ says Grime. They talk about work, and how other guys don’t have the dedication like they do, to work so late on crunch. Randomly, the subject of donating to charity comes up. All the tech boys do it for tax breaks.”

“That’s nice.”

“It would be better for the world if any of those pricks paid their taxes. Michael mentions that he’s giving to some LGBT charity. Grime says that’s cool, but wonders why Michael feels like that’s a good one. After all, he’s married to a lady and stuff.”

“Hm.”

“He says he’s actually bi. One time in college he had sex with a dude and feels like it was beautiful and nobody should be judged for love. Grime is like, cool, but you have been with nothing else but ladies forever. Do you still feel bi?”

“That seems rude.”

“So does the funky bass music starting to play out of thin air - the sounds of love are soon to come. Michael says, ‘Yeah,’ and they have a big moment. Sexual tension in the air so thick you could cut it.”

“Hm. He’s six foot six?”

“Yup.”

“Silver fox? Like a furry?”

“Sure, why not? So the guy says, ‘Maybe my wife doesn’t mind if I do stuff sometimes,’ and Grime is like, ‘Oh shit, I’ve never been with a dude before. Is this really happening?’ And Michael is like, take it slow, and they do.”

“Like taking off their clothes slow and stuff, or *redacted* slow?”

“The first one. Michael suggests they just watch each other *redacted* for a few minutes, see how it feels. Grime and him are alone, think it’s funny. Why not take advantage? They *redaaaaaaaacted*”

“Cool. But I can’t *redacted* myself right now.”

“Good. That would be unethical, maybe. I don’t know, whatever. So the guys are showing each other what they got, and Michael is like, ‘Damn, Graham, what you wanna do now?,’ and Grime says ‘Graeme,’ but kinda chokes on it because he’s *redacted* like it’s water in the desert. Oh. reminds me, drink some water, babe.” I did the same, hard as it was.

“So,” I continued, “Grime is *redacted* Michael has to push him back a little and say, ‘Easy there, tiger.’ And that makes Grime all sad because he was fixin’ to experience *redacted* That thing is too magnificent.”

“What’s it look like?”

“It’s like a white dude’s *redacted*, y’know, all *redaaaaacted, includes missile metaphor*”

“Wow. Haha, his *redacted* is the bomb.”

“True. So Michael says he wants to *redaaaaaaaacted*”

“What’s it feel like, for somebody to have their *redacted* on a *redacted* ?”

“Kinda crazy, like you got two *redacted* in a wrestling match, daring each other to make a move, but they can’t. Not without help. So Grime grabs *redacted* He remembers to check in with Michael, because he doesn’t want to lose his privileges. Michael lets him know, yeah, he’s doing it too *redacted*

So he loosens up his grip a bit, and *redaaaaaaaaaaacted*

“Yeah. So they’re *redacted*?”

“Yeah, y’know *redacted* Does that make sense? Anyway, it feels real good. They’re feeling it, because *redaaaacted* lightly while *redaaaacted* tightly.”

“That was a rhyme. You should be a rapper.”

“Oh yeah. That’s a good job. Where do I interview for that one?”

“Sorry.” She drank more water. “Go on.”

“They can’t take much more of it. *redaaacted* so they gotta step back.

So Grime is looking at the big man’s *redacted* and feeling inadequate, feeling like a child. The guy senses his hesitance and says, ‘I like what you got, kid. Let me see that.’ Then he goes down to his knees, taps an office chair to suggest Grime sit down in it. Our boy rolls into position.

He isn’t feeling it that much, like, *redaaacted* But Michael gives him a look, so kind and beautiful like Obi-Wan Kenobi. Then the older guy nuzzles Grime’s *redacted* He feels Michael’s beard on his *redacted* It feels crazy, but he knows he can't just *redacted* because it would scratch up his *redacted*

Then Michael *redaaacted* Grime is lightheaded, feeling like he might *redacted* at any moment, *redaaaaaaacted*

But then Michael relents, right as Grime is about to *redacted* He leans back and says, ‘You wanna feel this *redacted*?’ He’s gesturing to his *redacted* Grime is speechless. How can he say yes? He’s never done anything like that before. But still, he agrees. Sometimes you hafta jump in the deep end.”

“Whoa. You think Grime would take a *redacted* in the *redacted*?”

“Probably like it better if it was *redacted* but I bet he would. Y’know, it’s just a story though. Grime could have two *redacted* and taste like rose water if we wanted.”

“Two *redacted* and he can *redacted* a furry? OK. Tell me about it.”

“For real? Grime has two *redacted* now? And I’m supposed to get real about the furry thing?”

“You mean he wasn’t really a furry?”

“I guess he could be. What kind of furry do you like? Wolf boys? Horse boys?”

“Um, you said he was a silver fox. And now Grime has two *redacted* and he wants to get a *redacted* in his *redacted* for a first time.”

“Hm. So Grime’s *redacteds* are kinda hanging there, like *redacted* but as soon as the older guy suggests *redacted* they both *redacted*

“Why couldn’t Grime have had two *redacted* instead of the red hands thing?”

“You really picturing that? Because it’s just kinda abstract to me. Hard to call the image to mind, really. For me.”

“I was thinkin’ like what it would feel like to have both in my *redacted* at the same time, be all filled up like that.”

“Damn, baby. I’d like to see that. But I can’t *redacted* right now. It’s too hot.” I took a drink.

“I know.”

“Before I go on, should I describe the fox *redacted* looking like a fox *redacted* or a human *redacted* that maybe has some more hairs on it?”

“What’s a fox *redacted* look like? Don’t do it if it’s real weird. That’s just gross.”

“I don’t know, but I’d imagine they look like regular dog *redacted* which are pretty fuckin’ gross. Moving on then, the silver-furred fox man stood up to his full height, his long human-like *redacted* brushing against Grime’s *redacted* It was time for Grime to *redacted*

They pushed all the printers and folders and three by five cards and highlighters and shit off of the desk, and Grime sat himself there with his legs up in the air. Fox Michael probably made a sound like a fox makes, whatever that is.”

“A howl, probably.”

“Probably he howled. Sometimes a howl is a mournful sound, the baying of bloodthirsty creatures on the moors, singing how theirs is a life of pursuit, of famine and violent feast, and eternal scraping in a social order from which the only escape is death. But for the horny fox man, the howl is of Looney Tunes-esque hubba-hubba awooga-styled lust. He rubs Grime’s *redacted* all over with his big fox paws, giving him little scratches with his short sharp claws. Grime finds that exciting and bites his lip.

Then Michael *redaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacted*

“What are Grime’s two *redacted* doing?”

“They’re wondering why they only have three *redacted* between them and not four.”

“Three *redacted*? What would that be like?”

“Three *redacted* is good when you’re rubbing them on a regular set of two, because the *redacted* go between each other, don’t butt against each other and get sore. It’s pure sensation, like God intended.”

“Damn. That makes me wish I had three *redacted* Courtney.”

“Would you also like two *redacted*? While we’re handing out body parts, it’s OK.”

“No, I don’t know if I could have *redacted* right. I don’t know.”

“It’s OK, I prefer you with *redacted* I mean, if you have a *redacted* and three *redacted* that might be kinda hard to *redacted* without being like you’re getting kicked in the *redacted* all the time, so you have some decisions to make.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She seemed a little upset.

“It’s OK, babe! It’s just a game.”

“Ugh, sorry. It was just the heat. That would be weird if I was sad about pretend *redacted*”

“Oh good. I love you too much, honey.”

“I’d laugh but it’s too hot.”

“I understand. Do you want me to keep going?”

“Can you? It’s bad in here. Real bad.”

“We’re just trying to kill time. How much time have we been doing this?”

“I dunno. Feels like hours.”

I got up the will to look at the time on my phone. “Oh Christ. It’s only been eleven minutes.” I sobbed once, before I even noticed what I was doing.

“Don’t cry, Courtney.”

“You’re right,” I choked it down. “Gotta conserve my water.” I took another drink. “So Grime is holding his *redacted* together loosely, one palm over the *redacted* kinda *redacted* so he doesn’t *redacted* before the fox even gets started. Michael *redaaaaacted*”

“Uh huh.”

“Maybe I should be doing Goldilocks and the Three Bears.”

“Whatever’s easiest.”

“I guess we’re already here. And I’ll have time to get through the whole fucking Grimm Brothers catalog.” I almost cried again.

“It’s OK. You can stop, and we’ll just...”

“No, no. I can do this. So Michael has his *redacted* all *redacted* It’s *redaaaaacted* I think if Michael is basically so humanoid his *redacted* looks like a *redacted* he’s gotta have a tail and an animal head. So his tail is wagging like a happy dog and his face is all, again, awooga awooga. You know, like a cartoon wolf when he sees a hot chick.

He *redaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaacted*

Meanwhile, Grime is losing his mind. He’s insane with ecstasy, didn’t even know it was possible to feel that good. But he can’t get it together to help out, or say something, or do anything yet. His mind is a technicolor CG explosion, like a commercial for expensive fruit juice. Meanwhile his grip on his own *redacteds* has firmed into a stiff claw shape, like he’s clutching a stick shift in a muscle car.

Finally, sometime around *redacted* Grime gets his brains back. He says, ‘*redacted*’ Michael is ready and *redacted* Grime knows if he actually *redacted* he’s gonna *redacted* on the spot, *redaaacted*”

“Holy shit, Courtney.”

“So Grime knows it’s basically game over, but he doesn’t wanna go out like a bitch. He’s gotta get Michael to *redacted* somehow. He knows he has practically no chance, but he begs for it, hopes that’ll work. ‘Michael, *redacted* please. I need your *redacted* dude.’ Michael likes that, but will he do it?”

“I don’t know.”

“You could make that up. No pressure. But does he *redacted* first?”

“Yeah, but I can’t say it like you.”

“OK, maybe I can teach you how someday. You can be my bard apprentice. In the meantime, Michael felt his *redaaacted* His mind turned inside out, his mirthful expression went slack as lust stole the blood from his brain, then his eyes bulged and nostrils flared as... I forgot he has a fox head. Let’s say his long pink wet tongue flopped out the side of his mouth and he rolled his muzzle around and his ears went like... helicopters or whatever.

Just for funsies, let’s imagine *redacted* When it’s *redacted* hitting Grime’s *redacted* he feels a thrill *redacted* and he knows he actually won.

He gets each *redacted* in a medium firm grip and they *redacted* For whatever reason, *redacted* Each got *redacted* Grime’s *redacted* was *redacted* but in his excitement, and with his *redacted* it *redacted* A *redacted* in a magic instant, then *redacted* their *redacted* like in the fancy grocery store, where they got those little pipes that spray water on the lettuce heads. You know what I’m talking about? Remember seeing one of those?”

“OK, but it’s *redacted*?”

“Yeah, it’s Grime’s *redacted* and it’s *redacted* He yells in joy and then sucks in his mouth and bugs his eyes. Oops, he thinks, somebody might be around.

Michael *redacted* hastily, but not too fast, just to avoid accidents or discomfort, and uses his tall vantage to look around over the tops of the cubicles. There’s nobody in sight, and he says as much. He takes a wad of tissues out of a box and dabs up the *redacted* on himself while he watches Grime recover.

He’s not recovering fast. When Michael *redacted* the sensation prolonged his *redacted* even more, though there wasn’t much *redacted* left to *redacted* It was kinda pathetic, just his two *redacted* rapidly *redacted* Michael could see Grime’s *redacted* in the crappy green lights and the way they *redacted* Grime’s head lolled and all he could say was ‘oh man’ over and over again.”

“Oh fox man.”

“Good catch. I guess Michael’s probably lapping up the *redacted* from his muzzle and chest, leaving dabbed tongue shapes on his shirt.”

“They didn’t get naked?”

“I don’t remember. That’s a missed opportunity. Coulda said what they look like naked.”

“Fox man and two *redacted* Grime.”

“It’s true.” I exhaled. It would have been a sigh but I didn’t have the strength to muster a good inhale at the beginning, just weakly deflated my shallow lungs. I had to hork down some air a moment later to make up for it.

“You OK, Courtney?”

“Ugh. Sorry. Let’s drink more water.”

***

Read next chapter here.

#Rent is Theft #part 23 #nanowrimo july 2021

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levierenlove · 7 years

Text

The Thing He Hides V2

Bae said I should post all my works for y’all to read. I don’t really know if they’re worth reading, but maybe someone out there will enjoy this story.

Summary: This was a prompt from kinkmemes. Levi has wings and they are super sensitive to the touch. My take on what happens when Eren discoveres Levi's secret.

Author’s note: For those of you who liked the original version, apologies. The last couple of months I'd been thinking about rewriting it, and then this idea came to me. I personally feel that it is better written and gives a more in depth look to Levi's feelings. The other version, while good, just wasn't what I wanted it to be. So I hope y'all enjoy this version of it.For those of you who do prefer my original version, you can find it here: http://raevenwing.tumblr.com/post/55555026883/the-thing-he-hides

For as long as there had been Titans, the Survey Corps had existed to fight them. Captains rose and fell like the tides, prey for the Titans they fought against. Just because they had reached a higher military rank didn’t make them invincible. Just harder to kill. But they were still human. So time progressed, with the humans steadily losing… until the one born to be a Captain arrived…

Eren Yeager, resident Titan shifter of the Survey Corps, watched through narrowed eyes as his Captain walked away from everyone yet again, disappearing to who knew where. This happened several times a day. Someone as observant as Eren was with Levi would notice how uncomfortable the Captain was right before vanishing. He would often bite his lip, shifting from foot to foot. It confused Eren that the normally stoic Captain would do such things. And he was annoyed too.

It was obvious, also from watching, that everyone in Levi’s squad knew what was going on. Even Erwin and Hange apparently knew. Sometimes, although rarely, one of them would accompany Levi on his disappearances. Frankly, it miffed Eren. After all, he was part of this squad now too. Shouldn’t he be aware of any secrets they had?

“Why does Heichou keep vanishing?” He finally asked one day. “Where does he go?”

Erwin, the Commander, looked at Eren, his eyes cold. “Where Levi goes is none of your business. You need only to go on fighting Titans, and to obey any orders Levi gives you.”

Eren grit his teeth against a retort. Was the secret really that bad? He already knew, through Petra, that Levi had been a thug before joining the Survey Corps. Was it possible the Captain was going off and doing something illegal? No, not Levi, Eren decided. The Captain was too honorable for that. He valued life, although he often pretended otherwise. It had to be something else. Still, Eren felt sour about being left out. As a result, he sought out the company of Armin and Mikasa. At least they knew him and didn’t often keep secrets from him. …………………………… Levi groaned as the last strap fell away. Finally he could spread the wings he always had to hide. As his back muscles moved the wings he craned his head to look at them. One black, one white, both large and feathered. It was ironic that wings were the symbol of the Survey Corps. Wings that looked just like his…

“The straps are starting to cause permanent damage.”

Shooting Hange an irritated look, Levi closed his wings with a muted snap. “I never use them, so it doesn’t matter. I’ve told you more than once that we should just cut them off.”

“But Levi, they’re beautiful! And so rare! You could be the only human to have wings!” As Levi’s scowl deepened, her expression grew serious. “We don’t know how your nerves and blood vessels are connected to them. The wrong cut could end your career, possibly even your life.”

“I know that, you’ve told me before. The damn things are just so annoying.” Walking to the window, he peered out. He could see a couple of new recruits relaxing in the courtyard. One of them looked like it might be Eren.

“He wants to know.”

Levi whirled, wings flaring. “No!” Panic edged his voice as his control cracked.

The look Hange gave him was almost pitying. “Levi, he knows what it’s like to be shunned, to be called a monster. Do you really think he’d judge you?”

“No. I will not tell him. Too many people know already.” He closed his eyes against the sudden sick feeling. He cared about Eren way more than he should, more than a Captain should to his subordinate. He didn’t ever want to see disgust in those beautiful bright eyes. …………………………………. Levi grimaced, shifting to try and alleviate the pain of the straps. He hadn’t yet had time or opportunity to remove them today. There had been endless meetings, as well as training the new recruits, all to prepare them for the next expedition outside the walls.

Thinking he was alone, Levi groaned, leaning against the castle wall.

“Heichou?”

The Captain whirled, eyes wide. He masked his expression carefully when he saw that it was Eren. “Brats are supposed to be resting right now.”

He felt the edge of panic when Eren stepped closer, practically pinning him against the wall. “What’s wrong?” The brunet asked, concern in his voice.

“Nothing’s wrong, Eren. Now if you’ll excuse me...”

Fingers caressed his chin. When had Eren moved his hand from the wall? Levi glared up into Eren’s beautiful eyes. He was frozen by shock as gentle lips met his own.

The feel of Levi’s lips against his own was exquisite. The shorter male’s mouth was surprisingly warm and soft. Eren wanted to press further into the kiss, but found himself roughly shoved backward. He caught sight of Levi’s face and forgot to breath. The Captain had a fierce blush across his cheek, and a hand up to his mouth, almost as if he couldn’t believe that had just happened. Before the male fled, Eren could have sworn he saw panic in those steely eyes. …………………….. He didn’t try anything again, didn’t even have the opportunity. They’d gone out beyond the walls, and everything had gone so horribly wrong. Since the deaths of his squad, Levi had shut himself in his office, admitting no one. Eren knew the Captain had been injured while rescuing him, and he really wanted to check on him. And to apologize. But Levi had given specific instructions that no one was to bother him.

The shifter fidgeted, pacing Hange’s workroom. Even the scientist was unusually subdued, watching him. “You wish to know what he is hiding?” She finally asked.

Eren paused, looking at her with surprise in his eyes. He hadn’t even been thinking about that. “I… just want to help. And to apologize. I know he is blaming himself. But it isn’t his fault. It’s my...” He sighed. “But yes, I want to know that too.”

Hange ran a hand through her hair. “Levi doesn’t blame you, Eren. It isn’t your fault, even though you feel it is. As for the secret, he has his reasons for keeping you in the dark. I don’t agree with them, but I do respect them. Still, as much as he won’t admit it, he needs help. And I believe you can help him.” She handed him a small key. “This will get you into his office. Don’t be surprised if he immediately kicks you out.”

Eren took the key. “Thank you, Hange.”

Standing in front of the closed office door, Eren hesitated. It was true that Levi would probably be pissed at seeing Eren. After all, he was disobeying a direct order. Not to mention he could still remember the panic in Levi’s eyes… The shifter shook his head. No, he was doing this. He couldn’t let Levi blame himself for this.

Carefully he unlocked the door and slid it open, slipping inside. Closing it quietly behind him, he turned, and his mouth fell open in shock.

Levi sat in his chair at the desk, head pillowed on his arms. Papers were scattered across the desk as well as the floor. Faint tear trails marked a face that, even in sleep, didn’t relax. Straps, shirt, and cravat had been removed, giving Eren quite the opportunity to look at Levi’s pale, scarred skin. But that wasn’t why he stared.

Feathered wings rose from Levis back, one black, one white. Large and beautiful, they bore the marks of straps across feathers and muscle. No wonder Levi sometimes looked like he was in pain; strapping them down must hurt.

Eren felt no fear, no hate as he looked at those wings. Only wonder and a desire to touch. Were they as soft as they looked? He stepped closer, hand reaching out, before he was aware he’d done so.

The feathers felt like velvet under his fingers, softer than he’d imagined possible. He ghosted his fingers along a deep strap mark, frowning when he discovered a few droplets of blood. Levi was really hurting himself.

Levi shivered, shifting restlessly in his sleep. When he quieted again, Eren slid his fingers deeper into the feathers, caressing gently. His fingertips found the bone, skin, and muscle under the protective feather covering.

The Captain moaned, swaying as he sat up, eyes not yet open. “I don’t care how good it feels, Erwin.” He mumbled sleepily. “Sex won’t help, and I’m not interested in you like that.” Yawning, he blinked open his eyes, focusing blearily on Eren. Seconds passed.

Eren saw the exact moment Levi woke up enough to realize it was him. Panic filled those grey eyes and also… terror? He only really had a second to look before feathers whirled and Levi tore past him.

“Wai- Heichou wait!” But the Captain was gone. Eren scrambled after him, trying to figure out what had just happened. Why had Levi been so scared? Just because Eren found out? That didn’t make any sense!

The shifter slammed into a hard body, nearly falling backward. Strong arms gripped his shoulders. “What are you doing here?” Erwin demanded.

“Let me go!” Eren screeched, struggling. “I have to get to him!” ……………………….. Levi panted, hands on the edge of the wall. His breath came in painful gasps. Eren had found out. Eren would hate him. It was all over. The Captain had fled to the roof to hide, but footsteps persisted on the stairs. Someone was coming after him. He had no choice. Spreading his bi-colored wings, he jumped. He flapped furiously, trying to gain altitude.

The problem was, Levi had never flown. Pain seared through his back as muscles seized up. He tilted, falling headfirst from the sky.

By luck, he landed in the lake. It gave him a moment to think. Feathers weighted him down, keeping him from surfacing. But maybe it was better this way. He’d never have to see Eren look at him in disgust. Eren, whom he loved. Exhaling, Levi closed his eyes.

There was a sound like an explosion, and something large suddenly plunged into the lake. Levi found himself trapped by large hands as he hacked and coughed, water streaming from his mouth, nose, and eyes. His wings, sodden with water, hung limply from his back. His eyes met Eren’s Titan ones. “N no!” He stuttered, still coughing up water. “L let me go!”

Eren growled at him. The audacity of it surprised Levi so much that he just simply stared back. Large fingers curled around him, caging him. The Titan brought those hands against his chest, cradling Levi.

The sound of horses made the Titan turn. He watched Erwin dismount, with Hange close behind. The scientist seemed thrilled to see him in his Titan form. “Very good, Eren.” The Commander commented quietly. “You can let him go now.”

Eren shook his his, growling again as he looked at the lake.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Levi wouldn’t do something so stupid. Let him go!”

The Titan narrowed his eyes. The softest of touches against his fingers made him uncurl them slightly. Levi was wrapping his arms around Eren’s giant fingers, shivering hard. Eren’s Titan features were not capable of frowning, but he was mentally doing it. Levi needed the warmth of Eren’s Titan body right now. And he needed to get him away from the lake. Clutching Levi once more against his warm chest, the Titan turned heel and ran. He could hear Erwin calling after him, but he ignored it. Levi was more important.

Eren stopped at an area that was still near the castle, but secluded enough for a serious talk. But once there, Eren hesitated. He needed to leave his Titan form in order to converse, but he was afraid Levi would run off again.

“You can change.” The Captain’s tired, dull voice came from within the cage of giant fingers. “I won’t do anything stupid.”

“Eren made a soft sound in his throat, gently setting the male down on the ground. Levi sat still, wings limp, as Eren forced himself free of the Titan body. Connective tissue still lined his face as he made his way to Levi. “What the hell were you thinking Heichou??!” Oh yes, he was pissed.

Levi winced from the tone. He had his knees pulled up against his chest and his arms around them, face hidden in his arms. “I didn’t want you to hate me.” His voice was muffled, but Eren still heard him.

Whatever Eren was expecting, it wasn’t that. “Hate you? Why would I-” He cut off as Levi lifted his head enough that Eren could see his beautiful grey eyes. There was so much misery in them.

Eren knelt down carefully. “Heichou… No, Levi… haven’t you realized yet? I don’t hate you. I love you.”

That made the Captain stare, his mouth slack in surprise. “But… I’m hideous! I have wings-”

“And your wings are beautiful.” Eren commented, cutting Levi off. “As is the rest of you.” He moved a little closer. “Levi, I love you. You having wings doesn’t change that. I’m the monster here, not you.”

“I don’t think of you as a monster, Eren.” Levi retorted.

“And I don’t think of you as one either.” He reached a hand out. Levi flinched, but Eren persisted until his fingers brushed against Levi’s black wing. He could feel light trembling as he threaded his fingers through the drying feathers.

Levi blushed, looking away. “Th… that...” He swallowed, trying again. “That feels good.”

Eren smiled, maneuvering until he could touch both wings. “How did you get wings?”

The Captain sighed, looking at his hands. “I was born with them. Erwin says they’re a sign that I was born to be a Captain. Hange enjoys touching and running experiments on them. I just wants to cut them off.”

“No!” The exclamation was vehement and suddenly there were arms tight around him.

“E- Eren??”

“Please Heichou, don’t cut them off! They are a part of you. You need to stop hurting yourself!”

Completely flummoxed, Levi just sat there. His feathers were nearly dry, his body warm from Eren’s body heat. “I can’t even fly.” He finally mumbled.

“That’s okay, I can’t either.”

Levi blinked… and then huffed a laugh. He fluffed his feathers and carefully turned until he could face Eren. “Very well, I’ll try it your way. But I’m keeping them bound. I don’t want anyone else freaking out.”

Eren frowned, but it made sense, as much as he hated it. “I can massage them for you at the end of each day?”

“See that you do.” Something sparkled in his eyes, and emotion that he hadn’t allowed to show before. “Now kiss me, Eren.”

Happiness bloomed across the shifter’s face as he leaned in to do just that.

#snk #aot #attack on titan #ereri #my story #therenyeager #see I posted it #///////#wingfic

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anything-advice-blog · 7 years

Text

Submission - relationship problems that are driving me insane and could hurt someone i care about

For the record, I’ll just have you know I’m a girl in high school who’s DEFINITELY somewhere on the spectrum of asexuality (I’m not aromantic and I’ve masturbated multiple times in the past and I’m pretty sure I’m bi but with a romantic preference for guys…but if I were to ever do something physical I’d probably prefer it with a girl tbh?? idk if that’s weird or if that information was neccessary but in case it helps)

So I’m kind of in a relationship with this guy, and trust me, he’s amazing. He’s extremely caring and compassionate and loves me very much. Of course, he wants to get physically intimate (nothing huge, just maybe hand holding or hugging or cuddling or whatever). We’re both fifteen and very socially awkward nerds, and openly aware of it. Neither of us have kissed anyone yet, like not at all, and he’s asked multiple times if he can kiss me, and every single time I’ve turned him down. We have many deep philosophical conversations, also some about science and politics (though he knows a lot more than I do), and he’s just truly profound and brilliant and emotional but rational. He’s very empathic, open minded and understanding, guided by a strong moral compass…not to mention he’s a huuuuge meat lover and I’m actually succeeding in turning him vegan (logic and ethics always get to him). Thing is, I’m not easily fooled by men and their lies. I’m fully conscious when someone is acting/lying or gold-digging, and when I’m being manipulated, and I’ve known this guy VERY WELL for like two years now. We were best friends before we decided to tell each other how we feel, and he is very honest and sincere. He doesn’t try to act like something he’s not and while he’s polite, he truly doesn’t care what others think of him. We’ve both had psychological problems in the past and have counselled each other and helped each other through it (although I think I’ve helped him a lot more than he’s helped me. He’s been in a constant depressive state for like three years and honestly probably would’ve still been really depressed and unhappy if I hadn’t come along…obviously a three-year depression can’t go away completely just like that but for the first time in forever he’s really, truly happy). I make him incredibly happy and I know how much he loves me. In fact, he knows I’m uncomfortable with physical affection and is literally willing to wait as long as it takes for me. I mean, dude. The guy is fucking amazing. He’s super clingy and mushy and lovey-dovey and he knows I hate that shit so he’s trying to cut down on it as much as possible and give me space to let me breathe, and he’s in it for the long term. Dude. He actually wants to spend the rest of his life with me and no other girl.

But.

Here’s the big fat fucking problem. There’s two obstacles in the way of our happiness together. There’s me. There’s my fucked up mind. I’ve done this before with another guy, who actually happens to be one of his friends. See, this guy was (is) smart, and although he’s not as deep and philosophical as my current “boyfriend”, he was super chill and understanding. Truly amazing. He liked me for exactly who I was and constantly told me I was beautiful and smart, that I was worth it and enough and deserved the best. Kind of like my current boyfriend, he reassured me and reminded me to love myself and help me get over some fears of mine. 10/10 Tumblr’s dream boyfriend. And I eventually got bored of him somehow. My attraction began to fade until I had no romantic feelings for him whatsoever and I dumped him. The worst part is that I didn’t even dump him. I just ignored him until he got the hint. He picked up on it pretty quickly, too. After a few days of texting “I love you, I don’t want to lose you, I feel like you don’t like me anymore, what’s wrong, are you okay?” he finally just gave up. I avoided him like the plague until time made us strangers again, and now the two of us don’t acknowledge the past at all. It’s like it never happened. We just pretend it never existed and have never mentioned the giant elephant in the room, and now we just hang out regularly with our group of friends and joke like we used to.

First obstacle, like I said, is my fucked up mind. Here’s the thing about me. I’m what people call a heartbreaker, which honestly sounds cool and sexy and glamorous, the way strong empowered women who eat men for breakfast are glorified in edgy pop songs, but it’s honestly a psychological problem. And I’m not popular or slutty or anything, I’m just one of those girls, a tease who doesn’t know what the fuck she wants. And I don’t want to be one of those fantasy tough badass bitches that every heartbroken girl aspires to be, those who chew hearts up, spit them out and leave them in the dust. I don’t want to hurt good people. My current boyfriend doesn’t deserve me, but he also doesn’t deserve getting his heart broken. And I’m terrified because I can practically feel how crushed he’d be. He’d never get over it. If I dumped him, it would haunt him forever and I’d lose my best friend because we won’t be able to talk openly anymore. I’ll heal eventually (pretty soon actually), but he’d never be the same.

Another thing. I have really severe anxiety, multiple forms of it diagnosed by a professional, and avoidant personality disorder. I don’t confront my problems. Anything even slightly out of my comfort zone, I just can’t face directly. I can’t even present in front of a class. Today I cut class cause of a presentation I was totally ready for…I literally had like eleven lines of dialogue…but I skipped because the class was full of judgemental ass Enhanced students who already knew I was like four levels dumber than them. I just couldn’t deal with it. I avoid everything and then it just piles up until I just break down and have a serious twenty-minute panic attack.

Not to mention I’m super weird with affection and don’t want to hug or cuddle or hold hands or god forbid kiss, let alone do anything even remotely sexual. I just don’t like other people touching me. Romantic physical gestures just make me tense up and I get super awkward. Now, I’m not sure if my asexual ass is just wired this way or if I’m just really young and inexperienced and will get used to it in time. Maybe it’s cause I’m fifteen and overthink everything and am always super uncomfortable, or maybe this condition is permanent. Either way, I also fear longterm commitment

Okay. Second obstacle.

Of course, there’s another guy.

This guy I’ve liked for almost five years. Literally, since the first day of middle school when I first laid eyes on him, I was completely infatuated. All my dreams and fantasies were of him. Like, in my mind, we have already been married for decades and had three children (okay not literally, my biggest fear is actually having kids…my worst nightmares are of pregnancy and labor and giving birth and raising human beings and paying rent/taxes/bills and public transit and adulting but you get what I’m saying).

And guess what? My current boyfriend and I officially started going out the day after Valentine’s Day, this year. Because on Valentine’s Day, I found out the love of my life had a girlfriend.

(Actually, he has multiple flings and one girl I think is serious, but she’s long distance and both of them are perfectly okay with each other hooking up with other people while they’re not in the same country. Every year he goes overseas for the summer and during the summer they’re an official couple, but every other day of the year they literally tell each other everything. Like about the different people in their life and who they’ve hooked up with, and they’re both perfectly fine with it for some reason?? I don’t get it. It’s not even a polyamorous relationship. The guy just has a bunch of side hoes who he feels no emotional attatchment to…and, he reassured me, it’s completely mutual…and he just sometimes gets physical with when he’s lonely. But all of them know they’re not the only girls in his life and are okay with it because he’s also not the only guy in their life and they don’t like each other, they just make out or whatever?? Honestly, I don’t understand how it works at all but whatever.)

So my dilemma is that you can’t get over a crush…just like that. And the funny thing is, my current boyfriend is the only reason that middle school crush of mine even knows I exist now.

Okay, I think I should start using code names now;

X = current boyfriend, Y = middle school crush with a lot of side chicks

It’s hilarious because Y is the hot popular stereotypical fuckboy (or at least I thought he was…he’s not as shallow or superficial, and he’s aware of his ego and tries his best not to act as entitled/obnoxious as those douchebag friends of his that he doesn’t even like, and he’s actually really emotional but doesn’t show it and never lets himself be vulnerable) and he never once batted an eye in my direction, and NOW we are actually really good fucking friends.

All because of X.

See, X knew I liked Y, and although he liked me (a lot!), he pushed those feelings aside to help set me up with Y, because he considered my happiness more important than his own (and still does, which is why it’s so difficult to ever break his heart and I feel ridiculously guilty for even thinking like this). He got us talking, and now although Y is one of those hypersocial extroverts that adapts to their environment really easily and can fit in literally anywhere (the guy doesn’t have a specific clique, he can literally just hang out with anyone), he actually chooses to spend his lunches with my group of friends. And I’m not trying to make it sound like he’s gracing us with his superior presence and aura of popularity and coolness. He genuinely enjoys our company. I’ve noticed that although he’s ultracool and popular and everyone wants to hang out with him, he’s always just wandering alone with his earbuds in. Guy’s a loner by choice because he’s sick of his usual crowds…they’re either street thugs, drug lords and juvenile delinquents who are a really bad influence on him (I’m talking like the actual hood here, filled with criminals, gangfights and crystal meth), or the seriously dumb brain-fried stoners who do nothing but play video games and talk shit (these people are seriously stupid…they can barely form coherent sentences and have all dropped out of or failed school) OR the plastic popular crowd (who are all super fake, self centred and obsessed with their image).

He’s been making an effort to distance himself from these people. And it’s not that he’s one of us now. He’s not a meme-obsessed nerd who always cracks sick jokes about drugs and sex but has literally zero experience with any of it, because although we all have a dark, dry, fucked up sense of humor, we work hard, care about school and homework/chores and family duties, and get good grades, alwhile having our own geeky hobbies and quirks and pleasures, like computer programming or gaming or music or visual art and Photoshop. (X and my ex are both into computer programming, although X is a lot better and is basically kind of a genius when it comes to computer tech and programming. Y is a pitch perfect musical prodigy who composes amazing songs, can pick up on the chords to a new one in five minutes after listening to it for the first time, and can play the guitar and harmonica at the same time expertly. They’re both super talented and passionate about these things. If that doesn’t tell you everything you need to know about their personalities, I don’t know what will.)

Sorry. I’m getting too into detail

Thing is, I don’t think I love either of them. Or I might love both of them in different ways. But the thing is, I don’t know what love is. I don’t know if I can love. And I want to be loyal and devoted to X and love him as much as he loves me but it’s so damn hard with Y around. I don’t think I love Y as much as I love the idea of Y. I just love the way Y makes me feel. He’s kind of unstable and unpredictable (exactly the kind of wild mad love affair you want in high school but won’t last a day after grad) and a life with him would be fun. I’d never be bored, and I’d constantly feel the same rush of adrenaline I’ve always felt around him. You know, the typical stomach butterflies and pounding/racing heart and blood rushing to your brain, making you act crazy and be bold and do daring things. I’m somewhat of a thrill seeker.

But here’s the thing.

A relationship with Y, any plain fool could see, will not last. Let’s say, hypothetically, he does feel something for me. (He probably doesn’t, although X and my best female friend have said they’ve noticed something different about his behavior around me.) What then? We flirt, he gets me to smoke a joint or two, then eventually he pushes for deeper physical intimacy and I’m super nervous around him and want to take it ridiculously slow (because, let’s face it…if I’m uncomfortable doing anything with X, I’ll be awkward and self conscious as hell with Y). After a while, he gets tired of my unwillingness to reciprocate his sexual needs and calls up one of the many girls waiitng in line.

Now, I’m not saying he’d do this. He himself has told me today that he doesn’t want a romantic relationship at the moment, just light flings that everyone’s chill with, but if he were to meet a girl he was serious about spending the rest of his life with, he would immediately tell all of his Saturday night hookups that he has a girlfriend and he would be committed in the long term. But I have trust issues bordering on paranoia. I’m suspicious of everyone. Especially him.

A relationship with X, however.

X isn’t as physically attractive as Y is. Y is tall and blond and toned and takes great care of his appearance. He works out at the gym and has a haircut that costs more than ten bucks and actually wears clothes that he knows make him look hot. X actually has a very handsome facial structure and in ten, twenty, thirty years, X is going to fill out his scrawny skin-and-bones build and look a lot better than Y will.

And I know he loves me and cares for me and will never leave me, no matter what, or try to push me out of my comfort zone or make me do anything I don’t want to do. He wants what’s best for me and just wants me to be happy and healthy, even if it means sacrificing his own best interests in the process. That I can be sure of. The guy has no ulterior motives. He’s genuine and open and tells me things even if it’s embarrassing (and honestly sometimes I wish he would know where to draw a line when sharing shit, if you know what I mean). And unlike hedonistic Y, who drinks and smokes, X cares way too much about his neurons and physical/mental health in general to do anything like that.

Now, you probably see no dilemma. You’re thinking, “What the fuck is wrong with this kid? Where the fuck was X when I was in high school? Is X even real? He’s literally every girl’s dream. Y is a self destructive brain damaged stereotypical misogynistic fuckboy and that will never change.”

Well, it’s the current way they make me feel.

X was the best best friend I could ask for, back when we were nothing but best friends. He was someone I shared a deep bond with, a very close personal connection that was definitely more than platonic. There was always this chemistry. We just clicked.

But right now, he’s starting to bum me out. And no. It’s definitely not him. It’s just me. I know everyone’s heard this a million times but it’s true. He’s not doing anything wrong or different. His presence is simply smothering. I feel like I can’t breathe. (Not in a romantic way. In a miserably suffocating way.)

I have no idea what’s wrong with me or why I feel this way. It’s entirely possible that I only feel like this because I’m not quite over Y yet, and if I just give it time and hang on for a few more months, I’ll forget about Y and learn to truly appreciate X.

But what if I don’t? What if we just grow so distant that in the end I push him away completely because I can’t having Y so close yet so far away?

(Okay, this is starting to sound really dramatic and edgy. But seriously.)

My dilemma is that if I dump X, he’ll be heartbroken and I won’t be able to live with myself (okay not literally but the guilt would drive me insane) and he’d be really depressed (which he doesn’t deserve and goddammit I love him, I don’t want him to be unhappy). But stay with X and not tell him anything, I’LL be unhappy. I’ll suffer because Y, the guy I’ve been hopelessly in love with since the beginning of time, the guy I’ve always dreamt was my soulmate and would be my forever, is standing right there just out of reach…not to mention it would be horribly unfair to X to hide and pretend and act like everything’s okay. I’d be living a lie.

(And the worst part, if I cheat on X with Y. Like, what the fuck am I thinking?? Who am I anymore??? Don’t worry, I’m definitely not actually planning on doing it. Ever. I’d hate myself forever.)

Either way this goes, I’m guilty. I’m either a cheater, a liar, or a heartbreaker. Whichever way this goes, I’m a horrible person.

Unless we go for the scariest but most morally right scenario. I tell X exactly what’s going on. We talk about it, then I decide if I should tell Y. The problem is, this road is so unpredictable, full of twists and turns. It’s ethical, but it’s terrifying and could result in tension all around.

My question is; seriously, is there ANY way to deal with this where EVERYONE is happy??

(I’ll take “moderately content” by this point.)

It was extremely difficult to admit my feelings to myself. I know it’s wrong. That’s why I’m writing you. I’m so sorry about this long-ass novel. It probably sounds like the most dramatic clichè ever but human emotions are a lot more complicated than that and I want to know how to be happy without hurting anyone, because so far, every scenario I’ve played out in my head, no one really wins. I really need advice on this from someone older and more experienced. Insight from multiple sources with different opinions would be very much appreciated. Thank you so much for this blog, and for taking the time to actually read through all of this. Sorry it’s so long.

(P.S. I think I forgot to mention that X and I are kind of the unofficial school therapists. Everyone trusts X 100%, and he knows literally everyone’s deepest darkest secrets and has never uttered a word about them to anyone. Also, a lot of people seem to think I’m trustworthy and confide in me, although I see myself as somewhat of a mild gossip, and they seek help from me. Y is currently my only “patient”. He has a serious weed problem and has even considered mushrooms once but I talked him out of it, thankfully. He lives for new psychedelic/spiritual experiences and I’m helping him quit smoking and develop a more sensible, stable mindset. My “nurturing methods”, as he called them, are quite effective, according to him, and although I don’t see much progress, he claims I’ve helped him a lot since we met.

P.P.S. You know how I cut class today? I skipped with him and we had a very long and enlightening conversation and he told me a bunch of personal stuff and then I kind of told him about my problem with X and relationships in general. I said I wasn’t affectionate or romantic and didn’t like clingy partners and always pushed people away, but I didn’t tell him he was a big part of the reason my attraction to X was fading. Seriously. I’d rather die. And now Y and my mother are the only humans on earth who know X and I are drifting apart.

P.P.P.S. Y told me to keep X. He told me that he could see how much X loved me and how happy I made him, and that he didn’t deserve to be dumped like that, all of which I already knew and made me feel worse because he was right. Then he told me if I were to drop him…like, if the relationship was seriously making me unhappy…I had to do it in the gentlest way possible and be super careful not to hurt him. He also told me that I should tell X everything I told Y, because clear communication and mutual trust are the foundation upon which successful relationships are built upon. Funny enough, X said the same thing. I. Am. Freaking. Out. Please help me.)

I don’t want to do something I’ll regret. Any guidance you can offer would be very much appreciated.

hey, just another note on a past submission

You know how the asexual bicurious “heartbreaker” high school girl who sent you that submission about her current boyfriend X and the guy she’s liked forever Y? Yeah, just another note on it.

I JUST WANTED TO ADD THAT IT’S NOT URGENT, BUT IT IS VERY TIME SENSITIVE BECAUSE I HONESTLY DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO AND CAN’T PREDICT MY OWN ACTIONS AT THIS POINT.

Please tag your response with “stellaster” (don’t ask, it’s a unique personal thing that doesn’t have a tumblr tag)

=====================================

Hey love,

So first off, no. There is not a way that you can end things and everything can be happy, immediately. That’s the key word. We all find our ways to happiness sooner or later. We are all heartbroken and sad after a break and that’s completely normal so expecting for X to be happy even after breaking up is unrealistic. He’ll be unhappy and you can only hope that he’ll find his way and he’ll become happy again. But staying with him while you don’t love him or care for him in the way that he thinks you do, that would also make him unhappy as well. It’ll lead him to think that he’s making you unhappy and no one wants to do that to the ones they love. You also said that if you leave him and break his heart he’ll never be the same again. While this may be true, you don’t know if this is a good or a bad thing. No one bounces back after having their heart broken loving so fervently. However, he can become stronger. Will he be more cautious? Maybe, but we can hope that he’ll love again. You don’t know that someone else won’t come along and prove him that he deserves the best of everything.

I think the best thing you can do right now is to be honest with X about your relationship. Let him know that you don’t feel a strong emotion for him anymore. Let him know that while you realise it’s safe to be with him in the long run, you just don’t feel the rush of emotions that you want and you may not love him the same way he loves you. It’s important that you’re honest in all of your relationships because everyone deserves that. Everyone deserves an honest partner. I don’t know what else you want to do in regards to Y since he said he didn’t want to pursue a romantic relationship and you don’t seem to feel that it’ll be more than a hot moment of adrenaline either. But it may be better for all three for you to take some time and discover yourselves. You’re still in high school. You’re all young and there’s still sooooo many years ahead of you. So explore. If you realise that you still love X or Y later, maybe you can reconnect. While you’re discovering yourself, you can remain friends.

As for love, no one really defines love in the same way as others. So I would advise that you start thinking about what it means for you personally. When you think about love, when you think about soulmates, what do you expect from it? Don’t base it on what others think. What do you think it should mean? For me, a soulmate means a home. It means someone who accepts you for all that you are. Someone who is willing to die for you but also is willing to live as passionately for you. Someone who makes you feel safe, not just physically but emotionally as well. But a soulmate is also someone who challenges you to become better. To be a better person, to make you want to take on tasks that fear you and overcome them. That’s what it means to me. So while my soulmate may not be a romantic partner, it can be a platonic partner as well. So figure out what it means to you. And you know what? You may not figure it out for a while. You may not know for a while, and that’s fine too.

I don’t think you’re strange for having an aversion to physical touch. Touch aversion is not uncommon for asexuals. I would adivse that you look up more on asexuality and touch aversion. It’s not an uncommon phenomenon. It’ll help you find soe peace with what you’re feeling rather than feeling out of sorts and weird. Explore your seuxailty and your romantic preferences. A lot of people have different preferences and the world is no longer black and white anymore. There’s a million shades of grey in between and we just have to learn to navigate ourselves based on our feelings. So you may find out later that you’re not as romantic as you had thought. You may be aromantic or demiromantic. You may only want a QPP instead of a lover in your life. Whatever it is, exploration of self is the best adventure to go on.

I hope this helps a little. I tried to tackle everything as best as I could. I hope everything works out.

Always by your side,

Kelly

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understandingchaoss · 7 years

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How You Can Have a Mental Illness Without Being Mentally Ill

I promise you that this post is not as nuts as the title sounds.

I have a dear friend that I get to have some great conversations with. She seems to be one of the very few people who are able to understand what I go through without fully going through it herself. I say it like that because she does not have mental illness. She does, however, struggle with bouts of depression and anxiety periodically. Depression, anxiety, bi-polar, etc., are all considered mental illnesses - or mental disorders. However, there is a line that is drawn between a mental concern and a mental illness. She and I just had this conversation a few days ago, and I thought it was a great topic to cover.

What my friend deals with, is actually what the field of science refers to as a mental concern. It’s usually brought on by stress. Sometimes being a parent can make you feel depressed for a short period of time, other times the death of a loved one can cause it. Anxiety has a much more wide range of stressors that can cause it, but for a mental concern, it’s usually something like money troubles, the loss of a job, or any other major life changes. What sets mental illness and mental concerns apart from each other is the concept of whether or not it affects your daily life to the extreme, for long periods of time. Those with mental concerns typically find that their depression or anxiety don’t usually cause an interference with every aspect of their daily life. A mental concern doesn’t usually affect the daily life for more than a few months at a time. It passes, and the person is typically able to deal with it normally.

Those with mental illness find that it drags on, sometimes for years at a time. The field of science refers to mental concerns as the social aspect of mental illness. This means that the person’s emotional well-being is affected by their social class, family, employment, poor health, or financial situation and not by the psychology or biology makeup of the brain - aka their neurotransmitters or hormones are not affected by the small bout of depression or anxiety.

Your neurotransmitters are fascinating little things. Contrary to popular belief, they are actually what release your hormones; there is no separate component to mental illness psychologically other than your neurotransmitters because they are what control the hormones that are found in the imbalances. Your neurotransmitters carry messages from one nerve cell (neuron) to the next in the brain, because your neurons don’t actually touch. They can affect your mood, ability to concentrate, your physical process, and your memory. When they are disrupted, the messages are not carried to the next neuron, thus causing a malfunction that can lead to mental illness and addiction. When the malfunction occurs, the chemicals needed to prevent mental illness are not released. There are different neurotransmitters inside of your brain. The most common ones found to malfunction, causing mental illness are dopamine, acetylcholine, GABA, norepinephrine, and serotonin.

For example, if the movements of your serotonin or norepinephrine are interrupted, depression or anxiety disorders can be a direct result because the two hormones regulate your concentration, appetite, and mood. For those with depression, it is commonly found that the message produced by the serotonin to a neuron is not completed and the message is instead sent right back to the original location. The point of mental health medications that specifically treat serotonin or norepinephrine is to stop the hormones from returning to their original location, and instead helping to deliver them to the next neuron.

The lack of dopamine is commonly found in schizophrenia and attention deficit/hyperactivity disorder. Feeling more tire than usual, poor motivation to accomplish the simplest of tasks, and high levels of stress are all linked to low levels of dopamine. Dopamine is the chemical that allows your brain to feel pleasure. It is released during sex and any kind of addiction (i.e. shopping, drugs, sex, food, etc.). It is also the most common imbalance found in the lack of motivation or lack of pleasure found in patients with depression. Dopamine is also essential for your memory. When the levels decrease, your memory suffers, thus causing both short term and long term memory loss.

I won’t bore you with anymore science talk, because I’m sure you get the picture now.

Mental illness is most commonly caused by your biology and psychological make-up, aka your neurotransmitters or biological make-up through your genes (less common than the psychological aspect). Mental concerns are caused from the social aspects, thus not leading to the malfunction of your neurotransmitters – right away, that is. This is usually where you see someone struggling with depression for several weeks or a few months and they suddenly just snap out of it. They are able to “bounce back” in a normal way. Those with mental illness are not able to do so normally because they neurotransmitters do not “allow it.”

There are many reasons why I know for a fact that I have mental illness and not just a mental concern. There are the obvious things like my medications, long term treatment plan with therapists and my psychiatrist, and the fact that I have felt completely numb since the age of 13. But I think that sometimes people forget that mental illness is not a mental concern. It does not come and go, it is not present some days and gone the next. Mental illness is always present in whatever I do. I wake up every day, and my morning routine is affected by it. My motivation levels to communicate to those around me are affected. There are phone calls and text messages I must tend to, but can’t seem to do so. There are things around the house that need to get done, but I can’t seem to make myself do it. There is a job that I must go to five days a week, but dread going not because I hate it, but because I hate having to get up for it. There are friendships that I must put the effort into holding up, but instead allow myself to let that part of my life go, causing me to lose friendships because I’m too “lazy” to put in the effort. The times when I need to go to the store to get the essentials or to the grocery store to get myself food in order to live don’t happen unless someone is with me because I have an extreme and unrealistic fear of going anywhere in public alone. There is the reminder of the trauma I have endured within the recent years each morning when I wake because somehow, my brain always finds a way to start thinking about it. There is the dissociation, flashbacks, panic attacks, and random mental breakdowns sometimes brought on by nothing. There is the paranoia brought on by my borderline personality disorder. Nothing major, but I spend each day convinced that everyone in my life somehow hates me but they somehow hide it perfectly. There is my addiction to food that somehow consumes my thoughts. Most days, I can’t wait to get home just so that I can eat everything in sight as a way to cope with everything. There is the overwhelming feeling of just wanting to go to bed when I’m away from my house. Not because I’m so tired, but because I’m exhausted from trying to hold my body up through the extreme fatigue.

And that my friends, is only one day out of the week. I wake up the next day, and do that all over again. Throw in an abnormal stressor that isn’t an everyday thing for me, and I can promise you that you won’t want anything to do with me that day.

I am in no way dismissing any of the mental concerns that people may suffer from. They are completely valid, and they are extremely difficult to cope with. I hope and I pray for those currently struggling with mental concerns. I hope and I pray that it doesn’t eventually turn into something that becomes psychological. I hope and I pray that your neurotransmitters are able to endure the stressors can come out of it normally so that you don’t end up like the rest of us.

But the words mental illness are thrown around just as loosely as anxiety, panic attacks, and OCD. Just because you have a mental concern does not mean that you have mental illness. If you believe that you may have a mental illness and not just a mental concern, please see a mental health professional for an evaluation before you start throwing the term around. The more it gets thrown around, the less valid those of us with mental illness actually feel. Telling people that you have something when you don’t, is a lie and quite frankly manipulative. It would be the same as you telling someone that you had cancer when you hadn’t actually been diagnosed with it. It is so important to see someone about it, because you may actually have a mental illness and any mental illness left untreated can be a disaster. But please do not refer to your mental concern as a mental illness unless you have been told that you in fact, have a mental illness.

If you or someone you know needs support right now, call the Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 1-800-273-8255, or text START to 741-741

#understandingchaos

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solemnrosary · 4 years

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You know what? I’m bored and I want to pretend that I’m vaguely interesting. So without further ado; 65 Questions!

Do you ever doubt the existence of others than you? - Nah, I doubt my own existence and meaning the most. I have no reason to doubt anyone else’s existence, because I sure as hell couldn’t make such lovely cheery things.

On a scale of 1-5, how afraid of the dark are you? - 2, because I can’t see. I have terrible night-vision that takes ages to jostle on. So I end up navigating by visual and spacial memory if I need to walk around. Because I have my own system for storing items and leaving them about, I end up remembering my surroundings very well.

The person you would never want to meet? - Anyone who doesn’t meet my basic moral requirements.

What is your favorite word? - In French, it’d be argent, since silver is pretty and I love how it’s pronounced. In English, plethora, for similar reasons. Finnish is harder to pick.. hmmmh, hurma?

If you were a type of tree, what would you be? - what is known here as “The silver willow”, which is a variation of the white willow (salix alba), that has silvery bluish sheen to it’s leaves and a darker tree trunk. Salix alba var. sericea 'Sibirica'. Sometimes 'Argentea' ja 'Sericea' are also considered to be of the same variation. If I was a flower, I think I’d like to be the Eden climbing rose or a marigold.

When you looked in the mirror this morning what was the first thing you thought? - my face is bloated again, I guess the meds didn’t absorb properly.

What shirt are you wearing? - dark blue men’s print shirt that doubles as a pyjama

What do you label yourself as? - Agender, nonbinary, trans, bi and a problem.

Bright room or dark room? - dim room.

What were you doing at midnight last night? - myself

Favorite age you’ve been so far? - the now. I moved into another city away from my family, closer to my dear friend, so- it’s a whole lot better. Emotional turbulence is easing a little too.

Who told you they loved you last? - ... my emotionally abusive family.

Your worst enemy? - myself and the bigoted society.

What is your current desktop picture? - a cat skull I painted myself.

Do you like someone? - I do, I like many people. My friends, my brothers and grandma.

The last song you listened to? - I love you by Woodkid. It’s a mood.

You can press a button that will make any one person explode. Who would you blow up? - dorito.

Who would you really like to just punch in the face? - I’d rather not damage my hands.

If anyone could be your slave for a day, who would it be and what would they have to do? - That sounds absolutely dreadful, no I don’t want to have anyone do anything they do not wish to do. It’s about consent, not-consenting is not funny or desirable to me in any way. Now if you were to give me a butler, who has personal agency to say no and, perhaps, a snarky attitude- I really would love to be pampered a little. just- being held and taken care of would be nice. It doesn’t have to be anything non-platonic but I wouldn’t mind if it was? Gentle snark, reassurance, maybe a massage, please.

What is your best physical attribute? (showing said attribute is optional) - Strong legs? I suppose my butt’s nice too. I like the curve of my back? Hands and eyes? it’s a very subjective question for someone who doesn’t like themselves.

If you were the opposite sex for one day, what would you look like and what would you do? - find a way not to change back, thank you! finally, the correct bits. Don’t mind if I do.

Do you have a secret talent? If yes, what is it? - I can’t.. think of any? Nothing that’d be a secret anyway. Unless walking so quietly that I startle people sometimes counts? I don’t do that on purpose, though. Being so oblivious to something I end up bypassing it’s complications by sheer force of will?

What is one unique thing you’re afraid of? - I’m usually not afraid of any tangible things, only general things like pain and being abandoned by the people I love. Or never being accepted and loved in general. I’ve been working through haphephobia for years, but specifically; I’m afraid that my fear of touch will smear itself onto the relationships I feel the most comfortable and myself in. I can’t help flinching, it’s still instinctual, and I can’t tolerate a whole lot of contact from most people- but the longer I go without any contact, the more I fear that next time it’ll burn again. I almost regret telling my friends that I have haphephobia, because instead of asking if I’m okay with something, now I’m just- deprived of contact all together. It’s fairly hard to teach the brain that something is normal and okay when it’s never there at all.

You can only have one kind of sandwich. Every sandwich ingredient known to humankind is at your disposal. - OH- definitely begin with some kickass, fresh-baked oat loaf, one you’ve bought that morning. Slice it thick, because it’s soft and divine. As for fillings, I am torn between several types of fish. Gravlax is amazing in itself, but smoked salmon in mayo with diced cucumber, lemon juice, dill, green onion, maybe celery sounds superb. or tuna in tomato purée, with freshly diced chives and tiny bit of mayo to balance the tang, if you want a simpler filling. For salad bits; salad, cucumber, tomato, red onion, red bellpepper. Optionally, some bacon and mushroom salad (it’s made from home-salted mushrooms that have been de-salted once, with diced red onion, mayo, maybe dijon, and white pepper. I make the best damn mushroom salad) As for cheese, feta crumbs, mozzarella slices or a pan-crisp goat cheese button. For sauce, I prefer garlic or cucumber mayo, or even a yogurt sauce. on top, a slightly gooey fried egg seasoned with citron-pepper and chili (so that the yolk may graze all the goodness). If you wish to be decadent as hell, throw some diced garlic, butter and yellow onion onto a pan, crisp it, throw it on top of all and then throw some choice sauces on it. Even without the salmon filling, the bacon and mushroom salad with the rest makes for the best damn experience you could have whilst eating a sandwich.

You just found $100! How are you going to spend it? - Save half, buy food and something for my friend.

You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere in the world, but you have to leave immediately. Where are you going to go? - no thanks, all my goods are here. But Norway and Iceland would be nice one day.

An angel appears out of Heaven and offers you a lifetime supply of the alcoholic beverage of your choice. “Be brand-specific” it says. Man! What are you gonna say about that? Even if you don’t drink booze there’s something you can figure out… so what’s it gonna be? - uhhhhh, I don’t usually drink alcohol cause I can’t stand the taste. I’ve known to very rarely have a long-drink or a lemonade-esque thing though. So maybe Smirnoff ICE, If I was to drink it myself. Otherwise, rum or hard spirits like, a vodka of some kind, cause they are fairly versatile to use in emergencies, to bake with, or to gift.

You discover a beautiful island upon which you may build your own society. You make the rules. What is the first rule you put into place? - Be kind.

What is your favorite expletive? - Saatana or perkele. I am a finn after all.

Your house is on fire, holy shit! You have just enough time to run in there and grab ONE inanimate object. Don’t worry, your loved ones and pets have already made it out safely. So what’s the one thing you’re going to save from that blazing inferno? - computer. It is the most expensive one and it has all my art of info in it, so it’s very obvious. That or my important papers file.

You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be? - one would not be enough to erase the damage I suffer from today. I would erase being born, if given free choice.

You got kicked out of the country for being a time-traveling heathen who sleeps with celebrities and has super-powers. But check out this cool shit… you can move to anywhere else in the world! - I’d find a remote community in an area, have a cottage and just. I dunno, do art, bake and have a garden for fruits and cool projects. I’d make my own earthen oven. A big cast-iron pan.

The Celestial Gates Of Beyond have opened, much to your surprise because you didn’t think such a thing existed. Death appears. As it turns out, Death is actually a pretty cool entity, and happens to be in a fantastic mood. Death offers to return the friend/family-member/person/etc. of your choice to the living world. Who will you bring back? - Grandma. Her shitty husband bullied her in her last year while she was dying to breast cancer. I love her, and she deserved better.

What was your last dream about? - [Trigger warning, this gets extreme] I was belly-down on the ground, grabbed by the throat from behind. I wrangled one hand off, but every time I managed to get both, one of those hands would slip my grasp and choke me again. I barely got a single breath between. This went on and on and on. I cried for help and reached out, only for someone to grab my hand in disdain, saying something like ‘tsh, fine. Cry then.’ They held my hand in a way that their nails dug into that hand. I no longer had both hands to pry the assaulter’s hands away. I slowly choked to death. I woke up and hand to claw at my own hand just to breathe through my panic. I felt those hands on my throat for days. This is, unfortunately, normal for me.

Are you a good….[insert anything you’d like here]? - No.

Have you ever been admitted to the hospital? - I have an autoimmune condition that has hospitalized and nearly killed me on several occasions. So yes. I take that in strides.

Have you ever built a snowman? - Yes, with my brothers. It was nice.

What is the color of your socks? - Black, always

What type of music do you like? - Anything between rock, pop, folk and classical. Violin music in particular.

Do you prefer sunrises or sunsets? - Both are nice

What is your favorite milkshake flavor? - chocolate or blueberry

What football team do you support? - I don’t watch football

Do you have any scars? - Yes. Stretch marks, old wounds, new wounds. I have a scar behind my left ear that if you were to touch it, you’d notice it has a split beneath it on the skull from how hard it was hit. I fell on a radiator edge when I was younger and almost lost my ear from it, got three stitches. I also have a scar below from a biking accident, couldn’t sit for a few weeks.

What do you want to be when you graduate? - Already did, and the answer is odd jobs and nothing, apparently.

If you could change one thing about yourself, what would it be? - torn between ‘existence’ and ‘bodily gender’

Are you reliable? - Yes and no. I will keep any secret and help out whenever I can but would I trust myself to handle anything I care about? No.

If you could ask your future self one question, what would it be? - Does it get better?

Do you hold grudges? - I do not forget, but I do not dwell.

If you could breed two animals together to defy the laws of nature, what new animal would you create? - A cat and a duck. The ultimate bastard.

What is the most unusual conversation you’ve ever had? - the one where a stalker told me they’d dug every information they could find for two weeks before talking to me. They asked for my home address in 30 different ways, apparently hoping I’d forget I’d said no. They proceeded to hand me a yaoi manga as a souvenir from a con. I felt vaguely threatened.

Are you a good liar? - hmm. I try not to lie, If I don’t want to answer I’ll dodge or say I don’t want to answer. But, I suppose I am, for being able to hide half the things that I’ve been able to.

How long could you go without talking? - I begin talking out loud to fill out soundless spaces, so not a whole lot.

What has been you worst haircut/style? - ‘I want to speak to the manager’ and ‘little timmy is the best soccer player in his class’

Have you ever baked your own cake? - I baked most of everything back at my parents, so yes.

Can you do any accents other than your own? - funny ones, mostly

What do you like on your toast? - spread, ham, cheese, tomato, cucumber, aromasalt, fried egg - spread, liver patée, cucumber and aromasalt/pickles - spread, gravlax/tuna/salmon - spread, boiled egg slices, pickled herring (they come in jars, I prefer onion ones) in thinner slices, I add extra dill into the jars when I open them so they can marinate more.

What is the last thing you drew a picture of? - currently working on a personal WIP

What would be you dream car? - A car that someone else drives. With air conditioning.

Do you sing in the shower? Or do anything unusual in the shower? Explain. - no and no. I shower and then I’m done. I don’t like my voice, nor my body, nor wasting water. I do wash thoroughly though.

Do you believe in aliens? - It doesn’t interest me at all whether or not there is or isn’t.

Do you often read your horoscope? - only if it’s the only thing left to read or if it’s just readily visible without me looking for it. I think they’re bogus, but sometimes admittedly silly.

What is your favorite letter of the alphabet? - H or lowercase T, because I write them very loopy.

Which is cooler: dinosaurs or dragons? - They’re both cool in their own ways. A dinosaur is way bigger but as fantasy creatures dragons can fly, breathe elements and shape-shift though, hard to top that.

What do you think about babies? - Ew.

Tell something of your choice - If I had a cat, I’d name it Mishka or Meowkolash or Umi (sa, umineko ga inai to, “Umi” neko ga onaka ga suite iru) because I’m a nerd who loves umineko and bad jokes.

#solemn rambles #ask solemn #or solemn asks themselves

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lareporteragonzeauxblog · 6 years

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The border and its wall

‘The U.S. - Mexican border es una herida abierta where the Third World grates against the first and bleeds. And before a scab forms, it hemorrhages again, the lifeblood of two worlds merging to form a third country — a border culture.’ — Gloria Anzaldúa, Borderlands/La Frontera

Ambos Nogales (both Nogales) refers to the southern border towns of Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Mexico. Once a binational border region characterized by frequent movement back and forth, the two towns are now starkly divided by the steel monstrosity that is The Border Wall. Ambos Nogales also happens to be the place where I had my first encounter with this notorious North American landmark.

Hailing from Minnesota, the Southwest is in and of itself a somewhat foreign concept to me: rugged mountains protruding from barren landscape, scorched earth miles and miles from the nearest lake or river, plants that flourish despite intense thirst. As my boyfriend and I drove south from Tucson, I found myself lost in the captivating scenery, with no sense of place or time. I am loathe to admit that I’m not much of a geographer, but arriving in Ambos Nogales really threw me for a loop: I could not fathom that I was at the southern border. The border between the United States and Mexico. The infamous border that has been the topic of so much conversation and frustration and misunderstanding and pain. This was it — the place I had always heard of but could never conceptualize. The place I had always envisioned but was not ready to see. Prior to my current position, I had worked with immigrant communities hailing predominantly from Central America, had heard briefly their stories of travel and migration. Most shared their reasons for heading north but kept quiet about the particularities of crossing the border. A few folks spoke about hiring a coyote or guide to help them along the perilous journey, but, again, evaded details about the act of crossing. The border was a mystery to me then, a very real but seemingly esoteric physical space between what is there and what is here.

The violence that is the border really began to materialize for me once I started working with detained immigrants. In part, this is due to the nature of my work: I have the privilege of listening to peoples’ stories on a regular basis with the mutual understanding that I will keep any information shared with me confidential. I am therefore privy to intimate details about many, many aspects of their lives. One of the principal facets of screening someone for eligibility for counsel with his or her immigration case is a detailed discussion of migration history, and specifically of entries and exits to and from the United States. As I listened to more and more stories, I started noticing patterns and trends amongst those who crossed the southern border: most migrated from Mexico, followed by Guatemala and El Salvador, then Honduras; many came alone to join family or to send support back to family that remained, while some journeyed with siblings or parents or friends; some paid coyotes or guides to accompany them throughout the journey, others had support at certain points along the way, and many traveled without any guidance; some were apprehended by immigration officials at the border, and of those some were sent right back from whence they came, while others were arrested and detained or held within four walls for days before release on orders of supervision; others evaded detection at the border altogether and entered without inspection, forging their paths in the United States best they knew how in a country where the citizens demanded their labor but were not sure if they belonged. Despite the variations in their migration stories, these individuals had all undergone one pivotal experience: crossing the southern border between Mexico and the United States. And the outcome of that singular shared experience set the course for each and every one of their lives.

Needless to say, I was somewhat overwhelmed as I approached the imposing steel structure that I had heard mentioned so frequently, that towering symbol of division where “enforcement priorities” take precedence over basic human rights. Ian (my boyfriend) was eager to tell me facts about the wall’s history, to highlight landmarks and points of interest, to experience the border with me. But as I stood peeking through the 4-inch spaces between the steel posts that comprise the wall at Nogales, Mexico — the other Nogales, the othered Nogales — I fell silent. I had no words to say, and I could not receive any. I felt strange standing mere feet away from people going about their daily lives as I peered into their world from higher up on a small precipice that gives way to Mexico, from behind a hideous structure my government had built specifically to keep them out. I felt ugliness and cold standing there, division and sadness. The houses behind me looked no different than the houses I was looking at on the other side. The loud cries of hungry dogs resounded just as loudly in Nogales, Mexico as in Nogales, Arizona. I pressed my face against the steel, putting all my weight against its unmoving mass. Its existence felt foolish, embarrassing even. As Ian explained, The Border Wall is policy. Nothing more, nothing less — just policy. An enormous, ugly policy. And the Border Patrol agent that drove frantically over to us as we stood peacefully at the wall was simply a manifestation of that policy and its ubiquitous presence in this space.

We returned to Ambos Nogales the next day so Ian could teach me more about The Border Wall. A different Border Patrol agent was parked in the same place along the wall, waiting for something that most likely wouldn’t come. We walked along the rusting steel while Ian taught me about underground tunnel systems for transporting extrajudicial goods across the border, bi-national community gatherings in solidarity at the wall, and the historical use of metal runways from the Vietnam war for its construction. Once that part of the tour concluded, we hopped in the car and drove along a winding road that twisted its way up into a vibrant neighborhood with houses built into the contours of the terrain. At the end of the paved road, we turned onto a dusty dirt road that felt like some place we shouldn’t go. It paralleled the wall for miles and miles, and the only vehicles in sight were Border Patrol cars parked at regular intervals along the way. We drove for quite a time, rising and falling with the rolling landscape. Ian pointed out low points in the wall at which gates had been built to release debris accumulated during periods of heavy rainfall. Floodlights were haphazardly placed at intermittent points along the way, another eyesore in what was otherwise a gorgeous valley of trees and shrubs and gold and green.

The Border Wall, which had been so imposing and obstructive between the two inhabited towns of Nogales, Arizona and Nogales, Mexico, suddenly seemed an entirely unnecessary thing. Not that it was necessary anywhere, but out there in that wide open, tranquil setting, it seemed especially ridiculous. In town, it was obvious what the wall meant to keep out: human beings. Out there, in the silence of rolling hills and gentle winds, the wall’s futility was highlighted. As I stood looking over at Mexico from atop a high point on an Arizona hill, I was even able to ignore the wall’s presence for moments at a time: in several places, the steel structure dipped below sight line between two parallel apices flagging the border.

The wall’s architecture prevented it from conforming aesthetically and harmonically to the landscape that is served to divide. Perhaps this was intentional, an obvious reminder of its presence. Regardless, I couldn’t help but pity the hideous thing — the rigid steel palings stood erect in direct opposition to the gentle fluidity of the terrain. A blemish on what would otherwise be a perfectly beautiful and bucolic setting.

Our “border tour” ended with an event that sums up and exemplifies well the utter foolishness of the thing. Let me preface what happened by explaining that, in my rushed panic to make my flight out of Atlanta on time, I had forgotten my passport in my car. Naturally, I assumed this meant that crossing over to Mexico and returning without issue to the United States was an impossibility. However, Ian and I decided to give it a go. I had my driver’s license on me, so we went to the sanctioned Customs and Border Protection (CBP) crossing in Ambos Nogales and asked the first CBP agent we saw about the possibility of crossing sans passport. I was ready for a swift and stern “no.” However, the agent, who happened to be one of the friendlier and most reasonable people I’ve spoken with, told me that, with the driver’s license, re-entry shouldn’t be an issue. I was surprised, to say the least, and we followed the signs pointing to Mexico in red type.

We spent a few hours wandering around the highly trafficked pedestrian zoo that is the Nogales, Mexico border crossing zone. As we waited in the long line to return to the United States later that afternoon, I thought about what it would feel like to be in that same line without the guarantee of entry. I found myself feeling nervous about potentially encountering an issue — perhaps the agent that processed me for re-entry would take a different stance than the friendly agent with whom I’d spoken earlier — but I couldn’t fathom the terror I’d feel if I had made a long and arduous journey to this place with absolutely no way to predict the outcome of my attempted crossing.

There were many folks in line with us, some hauling luggage, others shopping bags, and others nothing. Some people had children and partners with them, others stood alone. Some waited patiently in the line, chatting and laughing, and others shifted weight nervously in anticipatory silence. Some people did not wait at all, passing the line altogether and presenting themselves in an urgent way at the iron revolving gate that stands between Mexico and the United States. It was overwhelming to think about the many different emotions and circumstances that co-existed in this border space: fear, excitement, privilege, disadvantage, loss, gain, separation, reunion. As I moved into the CBP office and approached the desk, I was relieved to see the same agent that had advised me before entering Mexico. She greeted me with a smile, glanced quickly at my license, and nonchalantly permitted me entry into the United States. It was so easy for me. So unbelievably easy to move from Mexico to the United States, to exist in that border space, to “pass” — for me. But this exact same scenario plays out for so many hundreds of thousands of people in such drastically different and life-altering ways all the time. Or, what’s more, people do any and everything in their power to avoid this line and attempting entry at a CBP station. All too often, such evasion comes at extremely high costs, including trafficking, family separation, theft, and even death.

As we walked back to the rental car parked only feet from The Border Wall, I wondered why we all couldn’t be welcomed to the United States by a friendly, smiling agent who assured us entry with ease. I wondered why we thought a steel barrier made us safer, and I wondered why we were taught to feel unsafe at all. Why a divisive structure instead of a welcoming walkway? I wondered if The Border Wall had truly been erected in response to a perceived threat, or if its construction had subsequently fomented fear, danger and violence. Maybe the mere existence of The Border Wall itself was the true enemy. As I left Nogales, Mexico and crossed into Nogales, Arizona, I just wondered.

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i-am-very-very-tired · 7 years

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I feel like if you're a weirdly shy kid, you end up taking to very divergent paths during the pubescent years: Either you commit to your true introvert nature, or you light up like a mega-annoying supernova and start yammering off all the weird shiz you've been keeping locked inside yourself for your whole life all at once. I fell firmly into the second camp. Over the course of several years, I went from the mousy kid in overalls to an awkwardly outspoken baby horse who didn't quite yet know how to be funny but was going to try, dammit. And apparently "trying to not be so shy anymore" actually just meant being very, very loud.

Maybe this isn't true for everyone, but for me, once the words started spilling out, everyone was a little shocked by not only how much of an over-sharer I was, but how ridiculously loud I was when I did it. TURNS OUT TALKING IS SUPER FUN, GUYS. I have fully accepted the fact that I am the sidekick in everyone else's rom-com by virtue of the fact that I feel the need to loudly and sassily narrate not just my life, but everyone else's. You know when someone says something really awkwardly and loudly and shuts down a whole room in less than a second? Yeah, that's me. It would be great if I could be either awkward OR loud, but that's not how life works. For the most part, you end up being both if you're either.

I feel like loud talkers never choose to be that way — It just kind of happened to us. I am aware that I do it, but not necessarily aware when it is happening, or I would probably, you know, shut myself up. Fortunately, I am not as blind to social cues as I am deaf, so it's not like I am projecting my CRAZY IDINA MENZEL LOUD BELTING speaking voice everywhere I go. But if I'm in a comfortable, normal social situation — especially if I'm excited about something — you can be sure that the volume is going to go increasingly higher until someone has the good sense and kind mercy to stop me. Until that happens, here are some of the struggles that natural loud-talkers face:

Strangers always think there is an emergency

You know how the sarcastic people of the world are always saying annoying stuff like, "Where's the fire?" Well, when people as loud as I am walk into a room, they are genuinely asking (and probably already preparing to make a run for it).

Everybody always knows you’re a tourist

Specifically, everyone knows you're American. The times I've traveled abroad, I've gotten someone chuckling at how loud I was at least once a day. I'm pretty sure I breathe too loudly by European standards. Jeez, SORRY FOR LIVING.

You’re the most self-conscious laughing in movie theaters

There's always That Person who awkwardly laughs really loudly at something that was only mildly funny and makes everyone in the room instantly uncomfortable. I am That Person. The fact that my laugh is about as loud and strident as a guard dog's bark doesn't help, either.

You get told to “calm down” 90% more than other humans

People assume that volume = PANIC. I could be having a regular conversation about which cereal I'm eating and people would be like, "Learn some chill, please." And when we actually are upset about something, people think we're drastically and over-dramatically upset, even though we are just mildly upset at a high volume.

People just assume you are an extrovert

This is true of most loud-talkers, but some of us only loud-talk with people we know and love. Just because our voices are turned up with our friends doesn't mean we're, like, ready to address to UN tomorrow morning.

Sometimes you notice that you’re doing it, but you CANNOT STOP

Welcome to the train wreck of my life. Sometimes I'm even loud in my own ears, and trying to bring it down subtly without calling attention to the fact that your voice just dropped 1.6 million decibels is a struggle bus.

Somebody shooshing you is the worst moment of your life

The memory of every time I have been shooshed by a stranger is burned into my memory forever. I almost can't even continue typing because the retroactive embarrassment is that paralyzing.

Hearing a recording of your voice is profoundly upsetting

Especially if there are other people's voices in the background, the contrasting volume of which will give you an idea of just how freaking loud you really are.

Teachers always caught you talking in class

Loud-talkers can't get away with anything. One time, I muttered an answer to a question I hadn't been called on for in middle school — or thought I muttered it, at least. The teacher was all #ragesauce at me for the rest of the day. Similar shenanigans went down on a bi-weekly basis until I graduated from college.

Even when you WEREN’T talking in class, they blamed you

LITERALLY THE WORST. I was so careful to clam up in class, and multiple times teachers would be all, "Don't think I can't hear you all talking!" and then zero their angry teacher eyes right at me. INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GABBING!

If you ever talk quietly, people assume something is wrong

Nope, just thought I'd give you guys a five second break from being deafened against your will. Everything's chill.

It’s way more obvious whenever you mispronounce something

The virtues of being a mumbler is that nobody's like "it's HOW-stun street, incomparable disgustingly useless moron". (Nobody has actually said those words out loud at me, but they did with their eyes.)

Losing your voice is like getting cut off from the planet

When I lose my voice, I'm basically Sandra Bullock in Gravity, untethered from the space ship that is humanity. And the worst part is, you just keep trying to talk at your normal level, so loud-talkers basically turn into aggressive donkeys whenever they're sick.

You live in constant fear of interrupting someone

Sorry, were you trying to say something? I couldn’t hear you over my BULLDOZER VOICE.

YOU ARE A FREQUENT ABUSER OF CAPS LOCK

HOW ELSE ARE YOU GOING TO APPROPRIATELY GET YOUR POINT ACROSS IF THEY CAN'T HEAR YOU?!?!

Meeting with fellow loud-talkers is a beautiful nightmare

Beautiful for you. A nightmare for everybody else.

You’ll probably never be a spy

Or anything requiring subtlety, really. I should tell my future children the truth about Santa while they’re still in the womb. It's not that I can't keep a secret — secrets can't keep me.

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