My spidersona would bug the life out of Miguel I can tell you that much

funny story. i’m obsessed.

so little silly ol me is scrolling through silly ol tumblr when i see nice neat fan art of a fic! goofy little me finds this fic at like 10 pm PROCEEDS TO READ UNTIL 1 AM. and i wasn’t even halfway through but i passed out cause damn i was tired. then BOOM i wake up at the ungodly hour of 5 in the morning on a school day and my first thought is to pick it up and read again. and then im like shoot so i go and drive to school and im reading this in my car in my parking spot and im STILL NOT EVEN CLOSE TO DONE. i go into school and then continue to ignore everyone and just read cause holy moly i don’t think i’ve ever fixated on a fic this hard before. when i tell u i was shaking by the time i got home and finished the last updated chapter, i was SHIVERING. i had chills for so long that is how GOOD this thing was. and then i played fortnite for 3 hours and thought about this fic again and then drew a bunch of stuff and i have piles of homework but that’s not improper at rn. GO READ THIS. ITS CALLED NEON VOID ON AO3 BY @sugarpasteltmnt. i’m tweaking im tweaking this is my first post and who knows if im doing this right someone please help how does tumblr work. also major spoilers in these little sketches teehee

Edward Nygma x Reader Who Knows A Lot Of Weird Facts | Part 2 ✌🏼

A/N: Hey y’all I’m sorry this took an ungodly amount of time, I’m trying to get over some slight writers block and actually (slowly but surely) get some requests done I promise I haven’t been just ignoring all of you 😭

Warning(s): Floof, some nsfw, post Riddler Ed is here y’all , mentions of doctors, mentions of mental illness/hysteria, mentions of vibrators, mentions of dogs, mentions of ww2

I hope I listed all the appropriate warnings, but if not please tell me!

Despite being a murderer/ terrorist/ all around feral intelligent idiot, y’all still have your ritual of trading knowledge for riddles and vice versa.

However, since Riddler is usually in control, he is more brazen and flirty now and what better way to show it than with his own set of “weird” facts

“Y/n, my dear, I read the most interesting thing just now, would you like to hear?” “Of course, what is it?” “Vibrators were originally made by doctors for the purpose of curing female hysteria in the 19th century ~”

Well you already knew that one, but nonetheless you are blushing and giggling like a schoolgirl because of this cheeky bastard

Ed, on the other hand, gives you adorably sweet facts and riddles that make you feel all fuzzy inside ❤️

Picture it: Gotham, 2023, it’s Veterans Day.

He’s so excited because he has waited for this specific day to tell you this specific bit of information that he learned from going down a Wikipedia rabbit hole one night.

“Good morning, Mx.L/n” he says carrying two plates of food to the desk you’re sitting at,” are you ready for our morning ritual?” You giggled and yawned a bit before responding. “Always am, what do you have for me today?”

Oh boy, he’s bouncing in his seat. “The most decorated war dog in history was named Sergeant Stubby, a stray pit bull mix that wandered onto the Yale university campus while the 102nd infantry was training and he became their mascot!”

Well hell whatever riddle you had ready for him was gone as you were consumed by how adorable both he, and the fact, was at that moment 🥹

Also, you best believe this man brags about you to his victims (and Oswald) on your behalf

Basically it boils down to this at the end of the day: Same Ed, same undying love for you, just a different “career path” ❤️🥲

Pay Attention to Me

Optional SF9 bias x F! Reader smut.

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Baby Blue! I'm so sorry this took so long 🥺 I tried my best so I hope you like it! 💙 ngl I kinda feel like I did it in a rush TwT

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). There's, choking, spanking, hair pulling and unprotected sex. Do not do this until and unless you actually want kids. Lmk if I missed something!

Requested: Y E S by the oh so lovely @inseongsfoxybae !

Hey, babe! I'm here to request something 🤭

Can you write something like the boy and his gf was spooning while watching a movie, but then things get steamy and lead to couch sex, please?

Since you don't have a bias in SF9 yet, you can choose the member you think that better fits this plot.

Thank you in advance 💓 Love you ❤️

1048 words

"I can't believe you've never seen 'The Princess Bride'! "

"I am now! So you can't say that I haven't seen it at all. " He said.

Coming to lay behind me on the couch, nuzzling his face into my neck he pulls the thin blanket over our bodies.

"If you fall asleep on me I swear to god I will hit you a pan."

"I won't! Don't worry." Raising his hands up in defense he widened his eyes. Grinning he wraps his hands around me pulling me flush against his chest. Rolling my eyes atat his clingyness I press play, smiling as the movie began. It's about time my boyfriend saw my favorite movie.

'As you wish' I mouthed along with Westley. How nice is it to have a secret way to express love for each other. Blushing I look at him, his starry eyes staring at the screen ahead of us. I really am lucky to have him. Kissing his cheek, I turn my attention back to the movie.

The thing about comfort movies is that no matter how many times you see them, you are always surprised at every turn of event. Feeling him smile at my reactions, I cuddle further into him to hide myself. He only giggles and kisses my jaw, finding my actions cute. He rests his face in the crook of my neck.

"You smell nicer than usual" He remarks breathing in my scent.

"It's a new body butter. Now hush." I whisper to try and get him at watch the movie again. After not even a minutes passing he nuzzles his nose further into my neck.

Pulling my shirt collar to a side he places feather light kisses on my exposed skin, nibbling and biting on it. Gulping, I try my best to ignore his attempts to distract me from the movie. Dragging his lower lip up my skin where he left marks, he moves his hand under the blanket to the hem of my shirt. Moving his fingertips up and down my thigh, moving my shirt up till it bunches at my waist, he sucks my neck lightly. Secretly pressing my legs together, trying to move away from his grip and failing to, I silently gasp.

"Pay attention to me." Rasping in a whisper he moves his hand to part my legs. Fuck fuck fuck why did I not wear panties today. Lifting my leg over his thigh, he grazes his fingers across my pussy.

"Oh so you were paying attention to just me?" He says smirking, as he notices my wetness. Rolling my hips slowly against his I feel his *very* prominent bulge. Biting onto my shirt collar I can't help but close my eyes as he smoothly moves the juices from my entrance to my clit.

Closing my legs when his digits reach my clitoris, I trap his hand there, moaning at the pressure. Grunting he pulls his hand out. Pushing my upper leg further till it's bent at the knee, I help him pull his shorts down.

Pumping his cock a few times, he places the head at my entrance. Breathing heavily I lean back, letting him do whatever he wants to me. Leaving open mouthed kisses from my neck to mouth he glides himself into me. Swallowing my pleasure sounds he moves his dick in and out of me. Gasping as he grabs my boob over my shirt and twists my nipple, he starts to rub my sensitive bud.

Squealing I clench around his length, causing him to falter his movements with a groan. Removing his hand from me he gets up and on his knees. Removing his shirt he stops me from laying on my back.

"Pull your shirt up to your chin baby." Biting his lower lip at my naked breasts and peaked nips, he pushes into my entrance again, leaning down to capture my lips into his as his hand resumes it's position on my clit. Moving my bent leg around his hip, I allow him better access to my aching pussy.

"More" I moan closing me eyes, he quickens his pace, grinding himself into me, biting my still exposed collarbone. Crying out I clench my walls as the feeling of him filling me to the brim of my uterus. Spanking my ass he thursts roughly a few times, rocking my body across the couch.

Pulling out of me again he guides me on my hands and knees, making me rest my face on the armrest. Entering me the third time, he grabs my hips as hard as he drives his dick into me at an ungodly speed.

"Your ass is out of the world babygirl." He compliments spanking me again. Grabbing my hair in one hand, making a messy ponytail, he pulls me up till me back comes into contact with his naked chest. Drilling into me, I feel his pelvis hit my buttcheeks as he begins to rub my clit again, his lips finding my neck again. Feeling my hair come down from the makeshift ponytail, the airflow in my throat starts to become restricted.

Choking my throat he pulls my head back till it comes in contact with his shoulder, attaching his mouth to my mouth sloppily, increasing his pace on my clit. Gripping the hair at the back of his head, I try and meet his hips, gasping for air as the pleasure in my lower stomach starts to become overwhelming. Moaning I release on his cock, shaking mymy thighs as I see stars. Letting me fall forward on the couch, he pulls himself out, pumping hishis cock a few times he cums on my ass and my back.

Satisfactorily admiring his work, picking up his shirt from the floor, he cleans his cum off as we try to breathe normally again.

"Wow" I whine.

"Wow indeed babygirl" He agrees bringing his lips to mine as sweetly as ever.

Completely laying on my back, I gesture him to cuddle me by opening my arms for him. Smiling softly with warmth and love on his face, he lays his head on my chest, as we resume to watch the movie from the beginning. Halfway through thethe movie and petting his hair, feeling drowsy, I nap with my exhausted lover in my embrace.

Hello everyone. I’m here to get a bit serious, but I don’t apologize for my tone in this. 

Truth be told, I’m vibrating in pure rage at this, but I’ll do my best to formulate what I have to say in a mature manner. I will also lead off by saying, in the event that any of you happen to follow the link to report the work or tell the op to take it down, please remain respectful and keep your tones mature. I’m not keen on the idea of mobbing someone and bullying them (even though I feel very hurt and wronged), and I am only posting this link here for us to one) politely and maturely tell the plagiarizer to take down my work and two) hopefully locate the authors of the other stolen works.

Today, thanks to a followertiny-I won’t name bc idk if you feel comfortable with that-informed me of my work (Specifically, 1:28am, the Jongho Jacob’s Ladder piece I posted a month or so ago) being reposted onto Wattpad. 

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, I do NOT allow reposting of my works ANYWHERE.

All of my necessary accounts I post to have links available to them that are easily accessible either in my bio or my masterlist. If I had any update in this, you all would know. 

I do not consent to ANYONE taking my work off of their designated sites. Hell, my timestamps aren't even on my ao3 account. (I consider them little lovely gifts for my tumblrtiny followers so I haven’t really posted any of them there for that reason, though I may in the future). I do not use FF, Wattpad, and most of my works are too long for me to post to my Twt. I wouldn’t put them on YT or anywhere else. 

I’ve been writing fics for over a decade, the first thing I posted was a rinky dink pokemon fic as a literal elementary school kid in like ‘07, ‘08 on fucking Quizilla. That site doesn’t even exist anymore. Even then, I have never stolen or plagiarized anyone's work. I do nothing here but try and boost up my fellow writers, but this? Stealing? This isn’t it. 

What’s worse, is it not just my Jongho fic affected. This person has not only stolen my work, but the works of other writers to tack on together for their ‘daddy’ story or whatever, some of the writers not even being Atiny, as Admin Cy of KSC has pointed out to me, they’ve even stolen works from Army writer, since one of their stolen Yeosang pieces refers to him as ‘Jungkook’, but a few sentences down, he’s back to being Yeosang. There are also at least two works as part of this person’s stolen collection that are stolen from @ateezlust ,as well as them stealing from OTHER writers on OTHER sites as well

If you have all the energy to take and edit and steal people’s work, I highly suggest looking into making some of your own. 

There is nothing wrong with being inspired. I’m inspired by the writers and media around me when I write. But taking someone’s work, covering it up to pretend like it’s yours, changing the original author’s words here and there to try and tailor it for you...that disgusts me. 

I don’t care how ‘bad’ you think your writing is. How much you talk yourself down and say you’ll never be as good as the ‘popular’ authors, you keep trying. You work hard. You adapt over time. What we aren’t gonna do, is take someone else’s hard work and claim it as your own because you can’t be assed to better yourself. That’s what we won’t do. 

It is well known here that I personally sometimes stay up to ungodly hours of the morning to make my content for you all. So this really...disgusts me on so many more levels. My content, and the content of other creators is not here for you to steal and put on your fridge and say it’s your own. Most of us put these things here for free. The least you can do is respect us as creators and our work. 

I’ve issued a full DMCA takedown of the stolen work and Admin Cy is working hard behind the scenes to find the other authors of the other stolen works bc of course, like with most shameless reposters, they usually steal more than one. I take this very seriously and just so everyone is clear;

Plagiarism is illegal. It is punishable by law. 

Just because my work is not fully original and it does use idols or whoever I decide to write a fic about, does not omit it from the fact that legal action can and will be taken. As the writer, I own the copyrights to my own work and if I find my shit on your blog, you bet your ass I’m gonna have it shut down. 

Share works, support them, be inspired by them, but do NOT go and fucking slap us creators in the face like this by stealing our shit, especially when you try to pass this off as your own. 

If you are reading this, and have someone else's work reposted somewhere else, I implore you to take it down, apologize to the person you stole it from (whether they caught wind or not, you owe them that much for stealing in the first place) and reevaluate yourself. Better yourself as a person and then try the writing thing again. Your own work this time.

And those of you who may scoff at this, think you can't be caught, think somehow in your mind that you stealing peoples work for your own selfish benefit is okay...unfollow me. Leave and dont come back. All of my works, dont touch them. I dont need likes or reblogs or comments from someone who would so carelessly put aside a content creator's feelings and ignore the fact that we all say this to people, writers and artists alike to NOT repost our hard work.

Idk where you're from in the world, its 2020, the concept of "reposting is stealing" /"dont repost my work" is not foreign or some niche thing. We have artists and authors who post it in their bios and everything telling you not to repost bc they're tired of it. You have NO excuse for this behavior and if you condone this behavior and see nothing wrong with these actions, I ask you leave my blog(s) and dont come back. I do not tolerate this at all, not for myself or others.

Thank you.

-Fie, Atiny-PirateQueen/Flora-Jimin

Heartbreak Summer 3

Bucky Barnes x Reader, College AU

Summary: James Buchanan Barnes broke your heart two years ago. Now, after settling down finally in college with your group of old and new friends, he ́s transferred into your school, and maybe back into your heart.

Word Count: uhhh idk

Warnings: angst, swearing, mentions of death, slight thor x reader, jealous buckaroo, crying, fluff if you squint

A/N: TAG LIST IS OPEN!! Also uhhh sorry this is a lil late my laptop is broken and i can’t use the schools to post it here so i had to improvise and use my phone for it so thats also why it’s not edited completely 😤 but thank you for reading 💖

Feedback is always appreciated! Thanks for reading loves, I hope you guys like it!

*Gif not mine, credit to owner*

series masterlist

It’s hard to actually pinpoint the exact moment you fell for Bucky, it always has been. Maybe it was when you met. Steve had invited you and Wanda out to one of their highschool football games because he knew Tony would tag along, and you were almost certain he would ask if he was coming. That night he simply ignored anything anyone besides Tony said, leaving yourself, Bucky, Sam, and Wanda to chat. Bucky's whole aura made you giddy, he kept you on your toes and laughing. His blue eyes reminding you of an ocean, that you wouldn’t mind drowning in. Or maybe it was when he saw you walking home in the pouring rain and offered you a ride in his mom's minivan.

Sure, you tell people forever. But that’s only because you’re a bit prone to dramatics. James Buchanan Barnes had your heart, and always would. No matter how many people you dated, you’d always be his. And you realized that, lying awake at five am, the sunrise peeking in through the windows, and showing how much dust you really had in the small room.

“Steve I told you, it’s fine. I’m not mad. A little annoyed, but not mad. I just wish you would have told me.” You sighed, taking the cup of coffee his outstretched arm was holding. “Besides I am so over him. And I have more important shit to focus on than thinking about old flames.”

“What like school? Psh that shit is boring.”

“Wow I must be in another world, first Bucky comes back, and now Steve Rogers is saying ‘shit’? I should just head down to the psych unit in the medical department.” You tease, bringing the cup up to your lips.

“Please, (y/n/n) you work on that floor anyways.”

“Hey! It’s not by choice you idiot, my professor wants us to switch things up every few weeks. But thankfully I start my internship soon.”

“With professor Coulson?”

“Yeah.” You hum and walk over to the couch, that has a plethora of pillows tossed about. “Starting on the pediatric floor I think.” You mumble into the cup of coffee as you slowly lift it up to your lips for another ling sip.

Steve sits across from you on the old black recliner he’s had since you could remember. He loved that squeaky old thing. Even if everytime he actually reclined in it, it’d send him flying violently backwards.

“That’ll be cool, you’ve always been good with kids.”

“Only because of Becca, I called her earlier and told her about it, and she reminded me of when Bucky, you and I had to take care of her. Man that whole weekend was a mess.”

“Yeah we had to beg his parents not to leave us alone for the weekend ever again.” He laughed, crossing an arm over his chest like he was on SNL. You rolled your eyes and finished the rest of the coffee.

“Oh whatever, anyways thanks for letting me come over at ungodly hours.” You grinned, kicking your legs up on the rest of the couch and craning your head to the side to look at him. Steve nodded and placed his cup on the table.

“I’m always here to talk, you know that (Y/N).”

“Don’t get all sappy on me now.” You groaned, grabbing a pillow from beside you and tossed it at him. He caught it without a glance and turned on the TV. “Showoff…” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and turning to face the now illuminated screen, as a rerun of Law and Order started playing.

You and Steve lounged around for a good hour and a half, now being around seven. He got up to make breakfast for everyone while you clicked through the guide.

“You guys have shitty TV, this is all football.” You moaned, dramatically flopping against the back of the couch. “Don’t you guys ever watch anything interesting? Like The Simpsons, or Criminal Minds? At least one of you has to be a sucker for crime documentaries.”

“That would be me.” Sam announced his arrival as he walked out from the hallway and to the front door as a rapid knocking was heard. He pulled open the door and Tony came rushing in, hair disheveled and eyes wide.

“I thought you died!” He yelled, waving his arms around wildly in your direction.

“We told you she wasn’t dead.” Nat said with a groan as she walked in behind him, dragging a half asleep Wanda behind her. “Hey hun, he woke us up yelling that you were gone.”

“He made up,” Wanda yawned, “So many theories…” She groaned and flopped down on the couch, laying her head on your thighs. You chuckled and patted her forehead, continuing to scroll past the plethora of sports channels.

“Like what?” You asked, turning your head slightly to glance at Tony. He was having a hushed chat with Steve and turned his attention back to you, now holding a steaming cup of coffee.

“Oh ya know, you an Buckaroo getting back together, you got drunk and left the apartment without even knowing, or Thor had asked you to go over for a quickie.”

“Gross!” You hissed, chucking the remote at him. It went sailing past him and landed on the floor with a thud. “We do not have quickies.” You muttered, crossing your arms over your chest and letting out a huff of air.

“Hey does anyone know how Buck takes his coffee?” Steve asked, eyes scanning over the different creamers.

“Black with two sugars. Unless it’s from Starkbucks, then creamer. Says it’s too bitter” You said, the words flying out of your mouth before you could even stop them. The kitchen went silent and you faked innocence as Nat raised a brow at you for an explanation. “What?!” You yelped and raised your hand in defense. “We dated for three years, and it's not like it’s that hard to remember.”

“Uh-huh just keep telling yourself that you love sick fool.”

“Tony shut up I am not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No.”

“Yessss.” He said in a sing-song voice as Steve walked over with a plate of pancakes. Wanda sat up from your lap, only to move beside you. Nat sat on the floor next to Sam who kept picking food off her plate, you could have sworn Nat threatened to stab him at least twice. Steve sat in his usual recliner, and Tony sprawled out next to you on the couch.

“Jesus what did I miss?” Bucky’s raspy morning voice filled your ears, and you shuddered, a chill running down your spine. You shook it off by reaching for the syrup.

“Pancakes and yelling.” Wanda beamed up at him before grabbing the syrup from your hand. “Share.” She muttered, sending you a glare. You stuck your tongue out at her before beginning to dig in to your second pancake.

“(Y/N) never shares her food.” Bucky chuckled and began fixing two plates of food. Shooting him a cold glare, you finally looked at him. His long locks were an absolute mess, per-usual in the mornings, he had black basketball shorts, hanging low on his waist and he was shirtless. You gulped, your eyes not daring to scan his god like body.

But you failed, like usual. And oh you wished you hadn’t looked. He still looked as if he was sculpted by the gods, that much was obvious but there we small red and purple marks littering his collarbones. Hickies.

You gulped down the last bite of your food and with a shaky hand, placed the plate on the coffee table.

Sensing your mood change Nat sat up, but still chewed on her blueberry pancakes. Wanda already had a hand pressed up against your lower back, but you brushed her off as you stood up.

“Actually James, I do, just not with you.” You muttered, before walking over to your stuff. You pulled Thor’s sweatshirt from the back of your chair and slipped it over your head, then stuffed your phone into your pocket. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have class and I’d rather not be here when your little… plaything wakes up.” With that, you opened the door, stepped out, and slammed it shut. Then you took off down the hall to your own apartment and threw yourself in.

“Fuck fuck fuck!” You chanted, tripping over furniture, tears already spilling from your eyes.

You did have class, that much was true. Then you had a study group with some lower-classmen you were helping in biology. So you weren’t really lying, even if it was at noon, not eight in the morning. But you had to get out of there, you could barely hold yourself together seeing him alone after a one night stand, but seeing him with the girl? No way in hell you would have kept it together. Not like this.

You wiped the tears off your cheeks, rubbing under your eyes. Red cheeks replaced the pale ones you had moments before, and the bags under your eyes were way more noticeable. Turning on the faucet, you splash your face with cold water and run your fingers through your hair.

“Get it together…” You muttered, not even wanting to look at yourself in such a disheveled state.

-

“No that’s not right.” Peter’s voice became a distant memory, your head falling limp in your palm as you fought against the sleep that was pulling your eyelids closed.

After the mini reality check from earlier, you managed to take a quick shower, and throw your hair up into a ponytail. You looked presentable at best, but it was better than not showing up at all. You managed to toss on one of Thor’s old sweatshirts you stole, along with a pair of leggings, and some slippers. Because the weather was surprisingly cold for early fall.

“Sorry, what?” You blinked as MJ tapped your shoulder.

“Peter wants to know why blood sugar levels are so important.” She mumbled, not even sparing you a glance, her nose dug into a book.

“Because, Our blood sugar refers to how much glucose is present in the blood. Glucose is important for cells to be able to make energy and build other complex carbohydrates. However, too much glucose can be toxic for the body. So we need to know if it becomes too much, or too little. You should know this.”

“And you Miss (Y/N), shouldn’t be falling asleep.” Peter teased, sticking his tongue out at you as you shot him a glare.

“Listen kid, I didn’t sleep last night and I haven’t had enough coffee. Stark is dropping me off some.”

“Just get the coffee from the front desk.”

“Parker I am going to pretend you didn’t just say that. Library coffee is horrible. I need fresh brewed from home, or Dunkin.”

“Oh or that nice little place on Manhattan blvd.” Ned added and you nodded, shooting him a warm smile.

“Yes, the absolute best.”

“I heard my name.” Tony said with a grin as he placed the steaming cup in front of you.

“If you mean the absolute worst? Then yes, yes you did.”

“Harsh, I have been wounded. Maybe I’ll just drink this coffee myself.” The brunette mutters, pulling the cup just out of your reach and taking a small sip. You shriek violently and fling your textbook at him. Tony simply steps out of the way before shooting you a sly grin.

You let out an annoyed groan, standing up from the chair and picking up your textbook, and that's when Tony really sees what you're wearing.

He knows this small step back into what you used to be, like dipping your toe into the pool to test the water before diving in.

Under Thor’s blue sweatshirt, is one of Bucky's red henleys. He had plenty, they were his favorite shirt. And he’d be damned if they ever got stolen… by anyone other than you of course.

Tony's breath catches in his throat as you yank the sweater back over the fabric to refrain from prying eyes of passerbys, your friends, and most importantly Bucky.

“Y/N-”

“Please don’t…” You choke out, holding back a soft cry. He nods, understanding, but not ready to completely let it all go. He places a gentle hand on your wrist and waits for you to look up at him. Your eyes are slowly turning puffy and red, even more so than they already were. Your free hand is picking at imaginary lint and he lets out a sigh.

“Okay… not here.” He confirms and shakes his head at your pleading face, that's begging him to drop the subject completely.

Tony doesn’t give in to the puppy dog eyes that make everyone else but him and Natasha melt. He places a short peck to your forehead, hands you your coffee and walks off after saying a quick hello to Peter.

You clear your throat, take a small sip of the now lukewarm liquid and sit back down in the creaky hard chair.

“Sorry, where were we?” You ask, looking around the room instead of the freshman in front of you.

“Lets get some lunch.” MJ announces, abruptly standing up and shoving her books into her bag, clearly over the study session.

Of course she was done with the study session, anymore talk about isotopes and she might have exploded. But she also noticed how uncomfortable you got when Tony had started whispering to you. She had some inkling as to why. When you were a senior in highschool, she was a freshman. It was uncommon for the two classes to mingle but you and her got along great. Her, Peter, and Ned were tossed into an AP Calculus class, and you of course had gotten stuck with them. But it wasn't all bad, yourself and MJ had often made snarky comments towards the boys, and would mumble obscenities under your breath as the teacher would get things mixed up. MJ was observant, and quite the character, so when you and Bucky had split up, she knew it immediately.

Everyone was truly shocked when you both split. Bucky had left for Europe the day after, and you showed up to school, alone, with puffy eyes. She recalls when you were taking your final the next day you had ran out in the middle of it, tears pooling down your cheeks.

And she resented him a little for it, but then again she didn ́t know what happened, and she didn't know why, and she didn't know Bucky.

But it wasn't like it was rocket science to figure out that he was what had you so shaken up. MJ heard a rumor about him coming back, but refrained from saying anything because… a rumor is just that, a stupid rumor. And she didn't want to upset you if she didn't have to.

“I want the extra crispy grilled cheese.”

“You get that every time Ned.” MJ grumbled as she scanned over the blackboard that held all the options on the menu.

“Okay but it’s really good.” You chimed in grinning at MJ, you pulled out your wallet as everyone ordered and reached out to pay. Peter shrieked and smacked at your hand, shaking his head.

“No no no my treat, you always help us with studying and we don’t even pay you. Let me get this.”

“Such a gentleman…” You cooed, giving him a cheeky grin. “But its work study so I get paid anyways.” Peter simply shrugged you off and handed the cash to the cashier, who grunted in response. You recognized the kid from your Economics class, and attempted to wave but he simply turned away to grab your food.

~

“I still don’t see why you didn’t want to go out tonight.” Wanda muttered as she handed you a bag of goldfish to snack on.

“Because I have homework, and I have an econ test to study for. Plus it’s movie night.”

“Econ can suck my dick.”

“Who’s sucking whose dick?” Sam muttered as he flopped down on the love seat, hanging his feet off the side.

“Econ is sucking Wanda's dick because I didn’t want to go out.”

“Well it is movie night Wands, we can't just skip it.” Nat hissed, curling up on the longer couch, settling herself comfortably beside Wanda.

“Not like everyone shows up all the time.” Wanda muttered before leaning forward and cradling the warm cup in her hands. “Where the hell are Steve and the other asshole. Or were going to start without them.”

“Relax ladies we’re here.” Bucky announced, giving Sam and cheeky grin. He nudged his legs off the side to sit, but Sam shook his head and kicked his legs back up.

“What movie’s first?” Steve asked pulling out the large box of DVD’s from behind the TV stand.

It was a large clear plastic bin with half scratched off stickers. The memories of Becca sticking them all over Bucky’s things was fresh in your mind as you stared off into the distance. She’d constantly have any sort of glittery, scented, or stickers with her favorite foods on them. When Bucky had shown up to take you to prom, there was a pink glittery heart on his shoulder.

“I vote we watch Terminator.”

“Sam we always watch that movie.”

“Yeah well get used to it (Y/N) it’s a good movie.”

“Well I for one think we should watch The Princess Bride.” Wanda announced as she dug her hand into a bag of M&M’s.

“Nope, we’re watching The Lost Boys.” You said, standing up and grabbing the box out of Steve's hand. He rolled his eyes and stood up, moving to sit in your spot.

“That shitty eighties movie about the vampires? No thanks.” Sam groaned and took a handful of popcorn from the bowl. You scoffed, placing the disk in the player and turning to face him, your hands resting on your hips.

“Shut your trap, it’s a good movie.” You hissed, sticking your tongue out at him. He gave you a playful wink and turned his attention to the screen. Surveying the area around you, you noticed Steve was now occupying your seat. Pursing your lips, a small groan left your lips. The only empty seat was next to Bucky.

Unwillingly you trudged over and plopped down beside him, your heart obviously had a different plan from your brain.

Curling your legs up into your chest, and resting your head on your knees you relaxed as best as you could beside him and focused on the movie.

The movie played quietly in the background of your thoughts as you wondered why he came back. You thought he loved it over there, from what Steve had told you, he was having a wonderful time. But then again, Steve was never good with translating sarcasm. No matter if it was in person or over text. He sucked at it, plain and simple.

Bucky also wondered why he came back sometimes. He missed his friends, his sister, and his home… you.

Bucky had always lived a hectic life. He grew up beside Steve, ever since birth they had been close. Their mothers were friends so it was only natural the pair would become close.

Steve eventually went from a scrawny kid with asthma who had a knack for fighting bullies to, Steve the football player, no longer stricken with the burden of not being able to breathe. A chick magnet, who was so kind to girls it was almost unbelievable he hadn’t dated anyone.

And then Steve met Y/N. You became fast friends and Bucky could have sworn you knew one another since you were born just like him and Steve. He had met you in sophomore year. Three years, and Steve had finally introduced him to you. But it wasn’t just simple you. Bucky was introduced to the person who changed his life. A beautiful girl who he swore made his heart beat louder than it ever had. But of course, Bucky thought you and Steve were in love. You were the only one who he allowed to refer to him as ‘Stevie.’ He hated that nickname, but not when you said it. So Bucky backed off, until your large group of friends all got smashed at a party and Steve embarrassingly kissed some dude on the track team. You practically burst with joy for him for finally doing it and all Bucky could do was sit there, beer in a cup now warming due to the burning in his hand, where you gripped it in pure joy for your shared best friend.

It was then that Bucky had made it his plan to get you to fall for him in the same way he fell for you. It was easier said than done, but he eventually won your heart.

You became his favorite person. The one he would constantly visit, and stop whatever he was doing to see you. You became his home.

He thought your voice was smooth like honey, and as sweet as the sugar his mom would put on his cheerios when he was younger. Your voice would seep into the cracks of his soul, to remind him he’d always have you.

He even had you now, as your head rested against his shoulder, the rest of your body slumped against the back of the couch. Soft snores rang through his ears, focusing only on you. He’d be damned if he or anyone else woke you up. The movie ended about an hour ago, and everyone had gone to bed. But not without some snide or silly comments on how you were cuddled up against him.

However, he paid no mind to them. All he thought about was how he missed your arms around him, your body heat radiating off of you, keeping him impossibly warm. The familiar scent of lavender and vanilla filled his nostrils as he relaxed all parts of his body but his right arm where you were curled up against. An odd position, yeah but for you? He’d fall out of a plane if it meant keeping you safe. (I’m sorry forgive me for that reference lol)

He felt you stir beside him, and Bucky froze, his breath halted in his lungs as he very slowly glanced down towards you. Your face scrunched up as you wiped at your cheek, after pulling up from his shoulder. Your eyes blinked open, and Bucky quietly watched your eyelashes kiss at your cheeks every time they fluttered shut. He froze again, praying you wouldn’t freak out, and that you’d calmly get up and go to bed, or curl up next to him again.

You chose neither and sat up fully, hunching forward and grabbing the remote from the coffee table.

“‘Nother movie?” You asked, leaning back against the couch and looking over at him. He nodded and focused his gaze on the screen as you chose a crappy netflix original. “ ‘M sorry for falling asleep on you by the way…” You mumbled, running your fingers through your hair. Bucky let out a faint chuckle and shook his head.

“I’m happy to be your headrest doll, long as you don’t drool.”

“Shut up Buck, that was one time…” You groaned, lightly punching his shoulder. He just shook his head and kept his eyes trained on your face, and he swore he saw a hint of a smile curling at your lips.

Smiling at him? Maybe, he could only hope.

Discarding the thought, much to fast for his own taste, he busied himself by grabbing some popcorn and tossing it into his mouth.

Maybe one day he’d work up the courage to actually talk to you, not some silly banter that was somewhere on the cusp of anger and misread feelings from old times… maybe.

—

TAGLIST: @thatsbucknasty @itz-kira @cassandras-musings @petlaufeyson @itzmegaaaaaaan @ambrosesnerd @thatoneslytherinbeater @sebastianstan-posts @retrxbarnes @nervosaa @vvinch3st3r @lost-in-t-h-e-abyss @spn-obession @greeneyedgirls4 @learisa @avipshamitra @uaterer @aletteredaffair @formulafun @smexy-bucky-waifu @jitterbuck @marvelsbitxh @justanothergirlwithdemons @blueeyedboobear @ladymidnightt @greatballsofeffingfire @kaithezaftig @cookies186 @mywinterwolf @buckysthing @postredetucora @coraz0ndcristal @mc225g @section-79 @eves-library

Otomate Party 2017 Collar x Malice Drama Translations

My first content post of the month... at 5:22 am for some ungodly reason i guess.... but I’ll start by asking you to please support me if you can either on ko-fi (https://ko-fi.com/V7V2W0HO) or through paypal (paypal.me/KumoriYami )…. also let me know if you have any hakuoki drama cds that you’d be willing to share that are on my looking for list since i don’t have the audio for those…..

Anyway I finally managed to finish this. Seriously wish i had translations for this as text instead of off a video since snipping everything than converting the pics of the subtitles into text is a serious pain in the ass.... As this is the first and only thing that I have translated for the cxm fandom, I will state:

I do not speak Japanese so this was translated from Chinese based on my bad Chinese and various mtl help (my limit on Japanese is the tiny bits picked up from anime... which I haven’t watched since 2009)

“[” and “]” are what I normally use for translator/personal notes/ways I think the text sounds better 

normal brackets and italics are usually used for alternate text suggestions based on the translated words themselves without extra words added or scene transition notes

My Chinese, in my opinion, is not particularly good when it comes to reading so there will probably be mistakes or things lost in translation (especially since this relied on finding someone else’s work of them translating this from Japanese into Chinese)

I will edit this later so expect grammar mistakes (I left quite a lot of those since I didn’t get punctuation for +75% of this) or things being left weirdly phrased.

I have taken images from the drama itself and put them into this post so that this makes more sense. 

Enjoy?

Collar x Malice Otomate Party 2017 Drama Translation [”ブレイクタイにプロフアイリング” Don’t have a Chinese translation for the name]

Translation by KumoriYami based on this video: https://www.bilibili.com/video/av25769645?from=search&seid=9170920068184056875

Yanagi (monologue): December. The serial murder incidents known to he world as X-Day.

During our investigation of the serial murders known to the world as the X-Day incidents, we believe the mastermind of the terrorist organization is targeting a woman named Hoshino Ichika, who is investigating them together with us.

Ending up in a situation/stalemate with no progress(/large breakthroughs) [is/will certainly?]-----

(stage lights up)

Enomoto: It's awful! Something's wrong!

Sasazuka: Shut up

Yanagi: Enomoto, open the door quietly.

Enamoto: Ah, sorry..... No, this is a big deal Yanagi-senpai!

Sasazuka: Yanagai-san.  Yanagi: Nn?

Sasazuka: Today's cookies aren't bad.

Yanagi: Okay/Yeah, having Sasazuka's approval sets me a ease. Can also give these to Hoshino---- [These can also be given to Hoshino---]

Enomoto: Please don't ignore me!

Enomoto: Anyway, Shiraishi-san he....!

Shiraishi: Miao~

Enomoto: (He's) become/turned into a cat! 

From a while ago/A moment ago, (he's) only been making cat sounds (and) not speaking----- [recently, he hasn't been saying anything aside from cat sounds]

Yanagi: Ha... Shiraishi, stop messing around with Enomoto.

Shiraishi: Really how cold.

Shiraishi: I think you should learn how to cooperate, Enoki-kun 

Enomoto: My name is Enomoto!

[I don't know Japanese but the subtitles left those bits in Japanese... so I just copied them over into the TL here. Also, according to Hermy The Wormy or nancy cheerleader #6 on the Otogetranslations' japanese-qa discord, the first kanji of Enomoto's name can be read as enoki, and enoki dake are a type of mushroom. ]

Enomoto: Hey, are you messing around with me again!?

Sasazuka: Today this brainless idiot is the same as usual.

Shiraishi: But/However, this type of person is unable to act [like a/n] food/idiot. /these type of people are not//cannot be fools by accident. [be stupid by accident]

Shiraishi: Also you two.... the [your] investigation(s) have stalled right?

Yanagi: What happened/What's going on for you to unexpectedly say/ask this? [literally: What happened, suddenly/unexpectedly, you do you want to say?]

Shiraishi: It's necessary to take a break from time to time. Shiraishi: When faced with a puzzle, fixed concepts/ideas/views/impressions can be the greatest enemy.

Yanagi: You only want us to vent our stress/release pressure, right? [take a break]

Shiraishi: haha, [you've] guessed correctly.

Shirashi: Even so, I'm also suffering from a lot of work/very distressed from work/worried about how busy I am. And because of this today, I was given advanced notice from a gentleman thief lupin [?????]

Shirashi:Oh, just like the one who is collared/so the one who is collared [rephrase later]

Shirashi: She seems to have gone out with Okazaki-kun to change her mood/mind [change of pace?]

Sasazuka: That stupid cat? Truly that's rare. /Truly how rare./That's rare.

Sasazuka: She's the type who seldom relaxes right?

Shiraishi: Yeah/that's right. As a result, she's become unwell.

Okazaki-kun found out and then handled it by going out.

Yanagi: Indeed, it's better for Hoshino to relax from time to time

Yanagi: Although he's an SP, being accompanied by Okazaki. That's....

Shiraishi: After all he is a police officer, I don't think he'll leave any evidence behind.

Enomoto: Nooo, that's not a way to rest?!

Shiraishi: let's go back to the earlier topic/let's go back to the previous conversation shall we?  I want to experiment you using criminal deduction/reasoning [Audio sounds more like profiling in ENG]

Yanagi: If you want to relax [have fun, go find someone else [go bother someone else]. Don't involve us.

Shiraishi: You need my ability as a criminal profiler don't you? Wouldn't it be a shame if I couldn't use it at a critical moment?

Sasazuka: Yanagi-san. I think constantly fighting this is a waste of time.

Yanagi: Ha.....Indeed. [do?] whatever you want.

Shiraishi: Nnn. First of all, [let's] use a drawing to analyze your underlying psychology.

Shiraishi: Draw two cats under a tree. Here, pen and paper.

Sasazuka: unexpectedly it's a psychology test, how boring.

Shiraishi: I'll give you donuts so draw.

Enomoto: [????? no text for 1 sec. sounds like eh, show-toh]

Enomoto: Okay, okay/all right, all right! Finished/done drawing!

Shiraishi: .….[How] unexpected/Unexpectedly. Enomoto-kun is pretty/very good at drawing.

Sasazuka: I've finished drawing [here?] too.

Enomoto: What the hell is this, you're unmotivated aren't you?

Shiraishi: eheh! [seeing] someone's personality being expressed is fun/It's fun to see/show your personality/individual personalities/traits

[Then] Yanagi-kun? Just a moment ago/from the start , you were wearing a really complicated expression. [for a while, you have had a really complicated expression]

Yanagi: No...... don't. let me think about it for a night.

Sasazuka: It doesn't take that long./It shouldn't need to take that long.

Yanagi: Ah, wait, Sasazuka....!

<dramatic scary music starts>

shiraishi and enomoto: .....ah....

Sasazuka:.....A cursed drawing? [Is this a cursed drawing?]

Shiraishi: Ah hahahahaha, so it turns out that Yanagi-kun had such a talent for drawing. This is a new discovery ahhahahaha!

Enomoto: No, no it's okay, Yanagi-senpai! How to say this, it's like a Picasso, an ultra-realistic style of painting......[rephrase later]

Yanagi: Stop, I don't need you to say anything.

Shiraishi: Commenting now on these results [rephrase later],

Shiraishi: It's an ideal family that can show how people describe themselves/It's how someone can show off their ideal family [probably 2nd].

Enomoto-kun hopes for warm family/household that lives with your significant other/hopes to live together with your important person in a warm family/household.

Sasazuka-kun is probably living a life not bound by anyone,

Yanagi-kun is.......how to say this, the family/household would probably collapse.

Yanagi: you, just say what you want.

Shiraishi: I have a good understanding/insight based on these references. Alright, let's move on to the next one one. What appearance /type of person would be the person who brought you your wallet /You've lost your wallet. What kind of person is the one who brings it back to you [??????]?

Shiraishi: A. A very dynamic noisy person 

B. A friendly older brother

C. A nervous elder sister

D. A high school student in their rebellious phase.

Sasazuka: D is obviously in a rebellious phase yet returning a wallet would [make them] feel very good.

Enomoto: I’ll say, B.....feel it's an average response.

Yanag: Then.... I'll go an choose A

Shiraishi: Actually, this is a psychological test to determine your romantic tendencies.

Sasazuka: There's no need/intention to/of pretend/ing to do this for criminal deduction anymore [??says profiling in audio]

Shiraishi: Who chose A----

Enomoto: Hasn't that guy seen this countless times/Hasn't this guy done countless [of these] interviews?!  

Shiraishi: Yanagi-kun, who has chosen A, is cautious about/when it comes to [his] romance/love.

Shiraishi: But once invested [says something to the effect of 'gone deep'], rationality will not be followed/obeyed/maintained.

Shiraishi: So it says.

Shiraishi: Eeeeeh , Yanagi-kun forgetting his reason/rationality, I really want to see this/that.

Yanagi: You say some random things/whatever you want... but, you also haven't said anything wrong.

Shiraishi: Here are the recommended type of things to say for confessing/confessions [says TYPE in ENG].   It's rare for me to make impression images [<---- not sure about that but the audio says IMAGE].

Yanagi: Ha? Impression image...?

(lights darken, spotlight on Yanagi VA)

Yanagi: ........If I get serious, you'll be troubled. I don't want to scare you, [and] I don't want to hurt you even if I think that..... I am unable/incapable to/of stop/ping my desire of monopolizing your heart .....Have you truly chosen me? I already can't do this anymore/hold myself back/stop these feelings [probably 3rd - also i have no tl for what it says on the image]

(cg off)

Sasazuka:...What just happened Yanagai-san, are you back to normal?

Yanagi: N-no, it/that wasn't me. Impression image he voluntarily [did]/automatically----- [??? guessing: That impression he voluntarily did----]

Shiraishi: Next is the person who chose B

Enomoto: Unexpectedly I've seen that guy before.

Shiraishi: B which was chosen by Enomoto-kun, who is a serious romantic, and although he is committed to his love/ Enomoto-kun who chose B, is/will be a serious romantic who follows his heart, but if he ends up with an unrequited love, his twilight years will end miserably/he will be awfully miserable in his old age, so it says.

Enomoto: I don't need you worrying about me being at an old age!? Wait, based on this evaluation, don't tell me that I also...

(light darkens, spotlight on Enomoto)

Enomoto: Seriously loving someone, surely pain can become happiness/it's possible for pain to be changed into happiness/it's like pain has become happiness.

After meeting you, for the first time I know.... no matter how many times I say it you're the best in the world, [and] I love you the most.

(light focus +cg off) Eeeehaha [weird scream that doesn't really work with text], 

how/indeed/truly bogus/phony/fake! [??? that's so/really fake?] how can you say such lines [these types of things]?! Ah, but isn't this/that line too handsome/elegant!? [cool]

Yanagi: Indeed/truly optimistic/hopeful [how positive?]......Oh? Sazazuka, where are you going?

Sasazuka: Heading back. I don't want to accompany you guys anymore/disturb you guys anymore.

Shiraishi: Sasazuka-kun after all [is someone] who came back from abroad, are you not accustomed to sweet [more on the romantic side] lines?

Sasazuka: This thing, can't just be shown casually to others.

Enomoto: Love can only be spoken of when two people are alone.... kuh. keh, you damn American returnee!

Shiraishi: Regarding Sasazuka-kun's romantic tendencies, they are----

Sasazuka: Don't continue without permission [ ?????  says what sounds like stop in audio... so im assuming 'just stop right now'] he's actually the sis-con type.

Shiraishi: D, which was chosen by Sazuka-kun, is the awkward self-centred type. Unable to verbally express [one’s feelings], [though] contrary to the inner-most/profound feelings/thoughts. This is popular with tsunderes right?

Enomoto: These, these types of confession/declaration of love lines are!?

(cg up + spotlight on Sasazuka)

Sasazuka: You, don't you think you're stupid for thinking that we're unsuited for each other? It's not anyone else, I've chosen you, so be confident in this, just like this/that's all. ......You, have long been my woman/since before you've been my woman Just be good and stay at my side Idi~ot~

(back to normal)

Enamooto: Uwohoho....... This American custom.... aren't/wouldn't you feeling/feel embarrassed/shy?

Sazazuka: Not really, even if this is just an impression image, this sort of thing is common.

Yanagi: Shiraishi.... You've really [even] made an image impression specifically for this sort of thing.

Shiraishi: It's funny [audio sounds like *interesting*]isn't it? The pictures were made by someone I know [These] question and answers were something that I had good reference for since it nicely matched a document/literature's contents.

Sasazuka: To begin with, what literature/study was this from? Was there ever a study/book written/published on this?

Shiraishi: It was the book "Romantic ☆ Psychology Evaluations" [Emotional affecting/heartbeat/heart rate/heart throbbing? ☆  psychology tests..... probably leave it at the first interpretation unless i come up with a better sounding title name here]

Enomoto: Ah! The new book I bought yesterday! I haven't read it yet!

Yanagi: mah.... I think it's the same [one]./I think the same way.

Sasazuka: [I'm] Tired, I really have to go.

Shiraishi: Yeah, I should also be heading back to the station.

Yanagi: : Seriously/give me a break. [i/we] don't know when another incident will occur.

(screen changes to outside the detective agency with Shiraishi)

*footsteps*

Shiraishi: Nn? You, the collar's/collared.... Ah right, right,/yes, yes, hoshino-san

Yanagi-kun and the others seemed to be heading back. 

How's the state of your mind doing? [How are you doing?]

Eh.... or did you go to a crime scene/still going to see a crime scene?

It's really serious.

How is the investigation going?

Like before, the criminals still have the upper hand. 

Pushing aside the police, really. [Going around the police...?]

......You display such strength/You're very strong.

But, isn't it scary?

Eh? having us [around makes you] feel relieved?

Mm, that's weird. 

The enemy might be lurking around in an unexpected place somewhere.... like me, for example.

Haha, do your best not to die.

What kind of outcome will come after this.... let me look forward to it. 

The End....?

------------------------------

Well, after doing this..... I can say that I don’t have any intention to translate anything else in the fandom that relies on a video cuz as it is truly excruciating to snip all the subtitles off the vid, photoshop said clips and either whiten or blacken the background so that an image to text converter can read it, have the image converted to text, add in all the words and correct whatever wasn’t converted into text properly, and then get to actually translating whatever it is (i’ve also hand-written more than +4000 Chinese characters from coping subtitles from a different video so i’m not going to be doing that ever again either).....Which means I will probably not be looking at whatever the 2018 cxm secret mission thing is as I have only found Chinese tl for that on a video from bilibili.... plus I’m not certain if there’s an actual drama in it (I have no interest in translating non-drama/story stuff).

Anyway, as I’m not particularly confident in my translation for this - at least when compared to the other stuff that I’ve done, I’m not entirely sure if I’m going to do a subbed video for this since I don’t want to post anything without a personal confidence level of at least 85% in any translation I do for a video (my level for this is probably somewhere between 60-70%).... and on another note, I realllllly need a better way to phrase “impression image,” since that looks and sounds really weird..... also if anyone wants to help me with my lack of language skills for this drama, send me a message plzzz!  >_<

if i ever do get to making a video, final edits will be done then since i know i left this drama tl not exactly worded well... 

A bad day. (I just need to rant into the abyss of the internet)

I’ve never actually left work early for a bad day before. But I felt that today if I didn’t, I’d end up embarrassing myself and ruining all of my relationships with my coworkers or better yet end up in the HR office. It was just an accumulation of a few too many small things that have been building up for months while I’m emotionally vulnerable.

I also know that none of my coworkers will ever see this post. But even if they do, I doubt they were aware of my feelings. The worst part is that nothing is really anyone’s fault. There’s no bad guy, and that makes it all the more frustrating, and that finally came to a head today. Because I can’t chew people out for doing nothing wrong. Sorry for the long post. Lotta resentments getting bottled up.

So context. 1. My grandfather has been in declining health for a while now. This isn’t very upsetting for me. He’s in his mid 90s and lived a full life. We were all provided for and everything is taken care of. For me, it feels more like a natural thing that is now finally happening. My aunt and my father have been fighting for years over different things, but my grandfather’s declining health has definitely rekindled the flames of war. 2. I work in TV animation production, and my goal is to become a storyboard artist. I’ve made that goal clear. I’ve asked for tests but I can never get any. I’ve asked for feedback and no one has given me any. The shining star of this was my boss giving me 5 long minutes of not quite saying “it’s not good enough.” I figured he was busy and didn’t want to hurt my feelings. He did say that if he hadn’t hired our then current revisionist, he’d love to have me start as one. Since then, he’s hired 4 more revisionists who have come and gone for different reasons. 3. I don’t think I draw that fucking bad. I’ve been told my artists I work with “why don’t you have an art job yet?” which the answer is “because no one will fucking give me one when I ask and you guys aren’t in a position to.” (they mean it as a compliment but it just really keeps bringing me down whenever I fail) And there are a lot of people my age getting art jobs while I’m not and yah I’m not that old but it’s very stressful and discouraging regardless of logic and optimism. 4. My intern this last semester showed my boss a sample board and got extensive notes and feedback and was offered freelance revision work even though she’s still a junior in college. She’s 3 years younger than me and was here for 2 months. My boss literally walked into my office then started talking to her in the adjacent cube over the wall about how good she is and the upcoming freelance revisionist work. And I have to sit there quietly and pretend it’s not killing me. 5. I’m lactose intolerant. 6. I guess I’ve been suffering from job related depression for the above reasons. Nothing major, I’m not suicidal, but I’m definitely very unhappy and going to work is definitely not a fun or even neutral experience anymore. It’s hard because the correct answer to my problem is “git gud’ and we all know how NOT FUCKING HELPFUL that is. Today 1. I get a text from my parents at 6 am telling me that my grandfather has passed away. We went over yesterday to say our goodbyes expecting him to pass either today or tomorrow. We left at around 8pm and asked my aunt to call us when he passed and that we’d come over. So my parents find out that he passed away at 6 am today. From a third party that isn’t even FUCKING RELATED TO US. Apparently my grandfather had passed away 10 minutes after we left yesterday, and she decided not to let us know. We had to find out through some other person offering my father his condolences. 2. Well the two coworkers I am closest with were late for miscellaneous reasons so I kinda had to keep #1 bottled up for 2 hours. 3. When things happen, I bluster and storm for the first hour before calming down and becoming rational. So I’m sitting at my desk all morning trying my best to keep my shit together because I’m absolutely fuming and was (forbid) by my mother to retaliate. She’s not wrong but there’s a lotta stress and emotions here. (3.5. Although I was directly forbid retaliation, I still went ahead and planned it anyways because it was a mildly constructive use of my stress. DM me if you want to know how to ruin someone’s entire week and never get caught.) 4. I took some Lactaid 30 minutes before I decided to finish my leftover mac n cheese from the fancy food truck yesterday as breakfast. Yah the Lactaid didn’t work at all for some ungodly reason... It’s 9am and I’m in a lot of pain both physically and emotionally now.... 5. So one of my favored coworkers finally beats traffic and gets in so I go to talk to her about all of this. I immediately get cry-y. Which blah blah blah crying is part of grieving but I can do that later. It’s not great when I’m at work because crying opens up the floodgate of emotions and the near impossible task of re-wrangling them under control is now daunting. Emotional fortitude -50. And people just kinda didn’t notice that I was crying and upset and not very quietly recounting this horrible morning story. They kinda walked right by. Not a single person other than that one coworker (and my other favored one who came in a bit later) offered me any condolences or asked about how I was doing of if I was ok. It’d be one thing if that happened and no one was around and I regained my composure. BUT I DIDN’T. 6. That fucking intern (who’s a nice person but god I wish they’d stop existing in my life. It’s fucking petty but today is really the worst day for it so fuck it I’m saying it.) is coming in for a big storyboard meeting between all the board artists, revisionists, and supervisors. So I had to see her and pretend to smile and be pleasant and supportive while I’m emotionally compromised, grieving, pissed, and now petty and jealous all over again. So I get that out of the way and I sit back down and get to work. 7. The other coworker I like to talk to comes in. She was a former intern who also wants to be a board artist so we try to help each other in our endeavors together. She’s an optimist. She says that she’s going to ask if she can sit in on the meeting and asks if I’d like to come along. Bless her outgoing-ness that I struggle with. But as much as I’d like to... that’s a room full of people who either forgot that I want to be a board artist, don’t care, or are straight up ignoring me about it and keep doing and saying all of these unintentionally hurtful things to and near me. Also that fucking intern is there. Also I’m pissed. Also I’m emotionally distraught. So I declined her offer. Even if I could get something good out of that meeting, I’m pretty sure I would have just had a breakdown in the corner. So I didn’t want to embarrass myself like that or make people feel uncomfortable for doing their normal business. 8. So by this point I’m sure I’m going to be snippy or mean or start crying in front of people, so my goal was to finish my most important task and leave at noon. I finish, I grab my bag to leave. As I do, they all get out of their storyboard meeting and bluster past me because they are now late for seeing the storyboard trainee program final presentations. GREAT. 9. Another production coworker of mine comments on how its important for them to go in case they see anyone they’d like to hire as a revisionist. I fianlly hit FUCKIT and say “IM GOING HOME.” And so I go to walk to the elevators. 10. I chose the wrong time to walk to the elevators because everyone in that meeting is waiting at the elevators to go look at the storyboard trainee presentations and scope out the new talent. They’re in too much of a busy mind to notice that I’m about to cry and am probably glaring with white knuckles as I clutch my bag. Luckily for me the elevator is full and I have an excuse to take the next one and not theirs. A part of me wished that they would say “come on in! i’m sure you can fit!” But... stuff like that never happens with them. No one goes out of their way to include me in things. So... whatever. Maybe I’m just being negative trying to find the bad in every little thing, but this is a rant so I’m going to do just that because fuck the consequences of people liking me and thinking I know how to adult properly. 11. I’m driving home and get a message from my coworker (glanced at a long red dont arrest me pls wait till tomorrow) saying that the intern asked if I had sent her intern evaluation to her school yet. I did. A few weeks ago. This isn’t really a bad thing it’s just that I was finally fucking free and just about to not have any reason to keep it together but then BAM. Intern shows up in my life again. Right after I though it was all over. A little god damn poke. Now So I managed to drive home without crashing into buildings or furiously honking and I am now just holding my cat and typing this. I’m pretty sure none of my coworkers will ever see this. A part of me wishes they would and that maybe they’d care, because I really don’t want to have to start a conversation specifically about all of this with them.    Who the hell starts a conversation with: “By the way boss, can you please stop discussing giving the intern freelance work when I’m within earshot let alone in my god damn 6′x8′ cube?” “Hey boss, remember when I asked you for feedback and got none? Why does the intern get your full attention when you are even busier?” “Hey boss, why have you hired 4 more revisionists when you said that’d you’d love to have me as one? Did you forget? Were you just lying to me because you didn’t know how to give me feedback? Did you even care about what you say to me?” “Hey intern, I understand you are excited and this is a great opportunity for you, but can you please read the room at least a little because I want to cry every single time?” “Hey everyone, I want to be a board artist remember? REMEMBER?” ”Hey everyone... I’m an artist too.” “Hey everyone, can anyone just give me a little help?” ”Hey everyone, if I keep my purse stocked with your allergy medications, pain killers, band aids, digestive relief, girly goods and keep good snacks around and remember your schedules and try to make your jobs easier and serve as your primary IT person...will you remember that I’m here?” “Hey everyone, do you all dislike me or do you all just not care enough to notice me?” They’re all good people, but it’s not stuff that I really know how to say just out of the blue. So today... I just couldn’t stand being even in my own cube anymore. I’m not an outgoing entrepreneurial person who bugs people everyday trying to sell themselves as an artist. I’m someone who tells you my intentions, and asks for help, and then believes people when they tell me sorry they’re busy, that they wish they could help, that they’d love to have me if only not for “x”. No one is entitled to give me a job or help me. But... I don’t get why I’m the only one who gets nothing for a response when I do ask. If they were busy, that’d be fine. But since then things have gotten busier, and my boss personally worked through multiple iterations of my intern’s practice board with her. A good piece of advice I got was that your first 5 tests are awful...but I can’t even get anyone to give me my first one. I’m told to work hard and “git gud”. But it feels like I’m just bashing my head against a brick wall, and no one even acknowledges the effort. It feels like if I decide to stop doing that because I’m about to have a breakdown, I’ll be looked down on as a quitter and not passionate enough. I have passion, but all of this is 100% killing it, and I don’t want to hate art. I really don’t. But I’m starting to. It’s hard for me to enjoy it when now it’s only done to seek attention and approval that I’ll never get from these people. Today would have been difficult still, but not unbearable if not for that. My grandfather’s death isn’t a tragedy for me. He was in pain for a long time and he definitely made the most of his life. The tragedy is that despite all of this, my aunt decided that my family didn’t deserve to know that our grandfather, my father’s father (who lives literally 5 minutes away by car), had passed. I’m definitely not looking forward to the memorial service for my grandfather. Not because the death is hard to deal with but because all of the family there is. Would love to make life terrible for my aunt. Would love to be just as petty. I have so many colorful things to say and do. But ultimately none of that matters. It’s just death. Nothing changes it or adds a new flavor to it. So all of that anger and hurt just kinda snowballed today. And to top it all off as I’m typing this some asshole is beating a dog somewhere in the neighborhood and the dog is screaming and yelping. (called the police so hopefully they find them) Thanks for reading this long negative rant. I hope it helps anyone who is feeling similarly frustrated, because I dont have someone around who’s breaking down quite like I am so this is all I have. Shooting it into the internet in a passive aggressive attempt and chance that maybe someone who needs to read it will. Positive news: I watered my plants with the extra time. I hugged my cat. I will be returning with art for Mermay.

The Need to Lie

Relationship: Platonic DLAMP

Warnings: Dysphoria, Unintentional Misgendering, spoilers for Agatha Christie's And Then There Were None, Deceit might be a little OOC, idk

Summary:  Deceit is the embodiment of lies: any lie Thomas has ever told, or ever will tell, is placed onto Deceit. But this. This is a lie Deceit wishes didn’t have to be told, a secret that didn’t have to be hidden. Deceit wishes that this truth could be screamed across rooftops. But instead, it is kept hidden from everyone: from the other sides and even Thomas. And it breaks her heart.

Me: Look at all of these fics I can work on right now My Brain: Trans Deceit Me: Whaa? My Brain: Trans. Deceit.

Just a warning: I know nothing about women’s clothing, so if the outfit doesn’t make sense, don’t yell at me. 

This is also posted on AO3, I’ll post the link in a reblog.

I hope yall enjoy, at least a little. 

Deceit is the embodiment of lies: any lie Thomas has ever told, or ever will tell, is placed onto Deceit. But this. This is a lie Deceit wishes didn’t have to be told, a secret that didn’t have to be hidden. Deceit wishes that this truth could be screamed across rooftops. But instead, it is kept hidden from everyone: from the other sides and even Thomas. And it breaks her heart.

Deceit doesn’t quite remember when she figured it out. All she remembers is one day, she knew who she really was, and she didn’t know what to do from there. But, of course, she had to keep up her image, and so she suffered and showed nothing but a lie whenever she saw others.

She kept it hidden pretty well, only showing her true self behind closed doors. It was easy when she was a dark side. But then, she slowly started showing up more and more in the light side of the mind, and soon she became a part of them. When that happened, she started being able to show herself less and less. The only time she had was when she would wake up before the others and she would wear her favorite clothes and do her makeup and hair. Sometimes, she would do it at night, when she can’t sleep, as a way of relaxing. She would stare into the mirror when she is done, looking at her true self, and feel a pang of sadness at the thought that she can’t be like this all the time.

Today was just like any day. Deceit wakes up at an ungodly hour, and starts her day. She sits at her vanity, and starts to do her makeup. She hums softly, some musical Thomas has been listening to non-stop lately. When she finishes her makeup, almost an hour later (don’t judge her, she goes all out at every opportunity she gets), she starts to pick out her outfit. She goes for a simple crop top and jean shorts. Today feels like a simple outfit day, despite only being able to wear the outfit for an hour tops.

Deceit lays back down on her bed, and stares up at the ceiling. What else can she do? She can’t exactly leave the room like this. Who knows what the others would say if they saw her. They would probably kick her out, and back into the dark side of the mind. Deceit can picture it now.

Roman with pure rage as he grabs his sword and forces her out of the light side.

Virgil with a look of pure disgust on his face as he sits by watching.

The sound of Logan talking about how illogical it is that Thomas could have a female side, despite being male.

And Patton, sitting there, not saying anything, looking at her with a disappointed look in his eyes.

No. Deceit can’t tell them. They can never know.

Deceit feels a slight movement in the mindscape, letting her know that there is another side awake. She sighs. She doesn’t want to get dressed but she has to. Deceit shuts her eyes tightly and snaps her fingers. When she peers out again, she can’t help the disappointment she feels upon seeing her usual outfit. She knows that if she looks in the mirror she will have the same result: all of her makeup will be gone and she’ll look like her usual self. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes once more, and sinks out of her room.

She pops into the kitchen, where the first thing she notices is the sound and smell of coffee brewing in the pot on the counter. She glances around and sees Logan sitting at the counter, engrossed in some book. He hasn’t noticed her yet, even as she makes her way over to the now finished coffee, and pours two mugs. She adds cream and sugar to one, and leaves the other black. She grabs the one with cream and sugar and brings it over to Logan, placing it down in front of him. She watches as he looks up with a surprised look on his face.

“Thank you, Deceit. I hadn’t noticed that you had arrived, nor did I notice that the coffee was done.” He looks down at his coffee and frowns slightly. “I’m sorry, but I actually prefer my coffee black.”

Deceit stares into Logan’s eyes with an unimpressed look, as if to say “are you serious?” Logan sighs, and picks up the coffee.

“I apologize, I sometimes forget that you are the literal embodiment of lies, and thus know when I am lying.”

“It’s not fine” Deceit replies softly, going back to grab her own coffee. She takes a sip as she walks back over to Logan, relishing the bitter taste. She sits down next to him, and glances at the book he is reading once more: And Then There Were None by Agatha Christie. He seems pretty far into the book, it is quite possible that he has already figured out who the murderer is. Still…

“The murderer isn’t Wargrave.” She says with a smirk. Logan looks up at her and smirks as well.

“I had already figured out as much, but thank you for the insightful information into the novel.”

“It’s a problem.” They fall into a comfortable silence as Deceit drinks her coffee and watches Logan read the book. Logan just about finishes the book by the time another side pops into the kitchen. It’s Patton, who tiredly makes his way over to the coffee machine to make his own coffee. He pours as much cream and sugar as he can without causing the mug to overflow, then makes his way over to the two of them. He does a double take when he notices Logan’s mug, which is still halfway full, Logan being too engrossed in the book to drink it.

“Logan, I thought you only liked black coffee.” Deceit has to hide her smile as Logan tries to come up with an excuse.

“Uh, you see Patton… Deceit here made my coffee this morning, and he doesn’t know how I like it. I didn’t want to be rude and not drink it.” Patton, still a little tired, takes a minute to process what was said, but when he does, he smiles.

“Aw, Logan, you do care!.” Logan sputters slightly at that, and tries to deny it, but Deceit shakes her head, to show just how much of a lie it would be. Logan backs down, and just grumbles to himself.

As the morning progresses, and the other two sides make an appearance, the kitchen slowly becomes a place of life and noise. But the more people there, the more people there are to tell a lie.

“Can you ask Dee if he wants pancakes or waffles?”

“He said it doesn’t matter.”

“Can you ask him if he wants any special toppings?”

“He says he doesn’t care.”

He, he, he. It’s all Deceit hears. And she wants so badly to say something, but she knows she can’t. She just has to deal with this everyday reality for as long as she possibly can.

Later on in the day, Thomas decides to do a video.

“What is up everybody?” is heard throughout the mindscape, as the sides listen in anticipation, hoping for an opportunity to turn the video into a Sanders Sides video. Deceit decides to tune it all out, as she is rarely ever needed for videos, even since being accepted by the light sides. Because of this, she is caught of guard when she is summoned into the real world.

She looks around as the other sides look at her expectantly. She tilts her head in confusion. “I totally know what is going on right now.”

“Thomas here summoned us because he has been feeling weird lately. He’s also had a sudden urge to make a video on respecting pronouns, and while Roman claims it wasn’t his idea, we decided to do it anyway.”

“And why wasn’t I summoned for this?”

“Well kiddo, first things first, we want to know your pronouns!”

Deceit stares confused. Why would they ask her for her pronouns? She just assumed that they all believed that all the sides were he/hims because Thomas is. Logan notices her confusion and provides some insight.

“As previously mentioned, Thomas has been feeling weird, and we believe this urge for a pronouns video has something to do with it. Maybe, if we all discuss our pronouns, as well as our friends’ pronouns, we may be able to get to the bottom of whatever is making him feel this way.” Deceit nods as it is explained to her, it all makes sense. The problem is, Deceit can’t get out of this through lying. If she tries to speak, the lie that would come out would be he/him, instead of the she/her lie that they would expect.

“So kiddo, what pronouns do you use?”

Deceit could get out of this by not saying anything, by ignoring the question and sinking out as soon as she can. But she knows that would just make them curious, and cause them to stop at nothing to figure it out. Or maybe her not responding would be just as telling as her saying it aloud. Maybe, just maybe, if she says it, they will forget that she can only tell lies, and believe it to be the truth. What other choice does she have?

“He/him” She replies as inconspicuous as she can. Please work, please work, please work...

“See Thomas, there is nothing to worry about here” Roman exclaims from his corner. “We are all he/him, and we all respect that about each other. So it cannot be us that is making you, eh… queasy, in a sense.”

Deceit tries hard to hide the sigh of relief that escapes her body. By the looks of it, she believes she has succeeded. That is until-

“Hold it.” Virgil replies from the stairs. The others halt their conversation and look over to Virgil. “Did you guys seriously miss that just now?”

“What is it now, Conspiracy Theory?”

“Deceit can only speak lies.” Deceit freezes at this and curses silently. Of course Virgil would be the one to pick it up, he’s known her the longest after all. They all stare at her, expecting her to say something, anything, but she can’t. She opens her mouth, but can’t seem to form the words that she wants to say. So she opts to not speak at all, and sinks out of the room as quickly as she can. She pops up into her room, and locks the door.

She goes and lays on her bed. What can she do now? By now, one of them has put together the pieces, and they’re probably up there right now trying to figure out how to get rid of her and send her back to the dark side of the mind. Maybe if she’s lucky, they’ll do it as nicely as possible. She feels tears start to well up in her eyes.

A soft knocking sounds throughout the room. Deceit holds her breath. “Kiddo?”

They sent the nicest side to send the worst possible news.

Deceit wipes her eyes and gets up, walking over to the door and opening it slightly. She sticks her head out slightly. “I don’t get it, ok. I’ll unpack my things and stay.”

“What are you saying Dee?”

“I’m saying that you guys want me here. I don’t understand.”

“Dee, no that’s not it at all. Can I come in please?”

Deceit opens the door all the way, and lets Patton in. She goes over and sits on her bed. Patton follows behind, and sits down next to her. They are quiet for a while, until Patton eventually speaks up.

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I knew you guys would accept me. I’m not a part of Thomas, I shouldn’t be the same gender as him.”

“You shouldn’t have to be!” Deceit looks up in shock at him. “Just because Thomas is one thing, doesn’t mean you have to be. You can be whatever the hell you want, and we’d still accept you.”

Deceit doesn’t know what to say. She continues to stare at Patton in shock. Tears build up into her eyes, this time falling freely down her cheeks.

“Oh, kiddo.” Patton suddenly pulls her into a hug. She sobs into his shoulder as he soothingly rubs her back.

“Let me tell you something kiddo.” Patton whispers to her through the hug. “You’re not quite the only one.”

Deceit pulls back slightly to look at him through tear blurred eyes. He notices the confusion on her face and continues. “I may not understand fully, I still use he/him pronouns so I don’t know everything you’re going through, but I do understand wanting to be more feminine. There have been many times when I’m in my room and I would wear a dress, just because it’s comfortable or just feels right. And I’ve also caught Roman quite a few times trying to do his makeup while wearing some sort of skirt. So, you have nothing to be ashamed of. We might not be quite like you, but we definitely won’t shun you for being you.”

Patton makes sure to look her dead in the eyes when he speaks next. “We love you, kiddo.”

He pulls her into a tight hug once more, letting her get all of her tears out.

That night, Deceit and Patton talk to the other sides (and Thomas) face to face, explaining why she ran off earlier. As Patton said, they were quick to accept her, not questioning it in the slightest. If that is what made Deceit comfortable and happy, then who are they to stop her. When Deceit finally made it to her room that night, she laid in bed for a while, processing everything that happened. Then she realized.

Tomorrow she can present as she wants in front of the others.

Deceit wakes up the next morning feeling... well, she doesn’t really know how to feel. Today is a big day, after all. She goes about her normal routine, putting a little more effort than usual into what she wears. She takes as much time as possible on her makeup, and spends forever figuring out what to wear. In the end, she ends up putting on a yellow snakeskin skirt, and a black top.

It’s not too long before Deceit feels movement in the mindscape. She smiles. She shuts her eyes tightly, and snaps her finger. When she opens her eyes, her outfit has been covered slightly by her cape, and her gloves and hat have appeared (she does still have an image to uphold, after all). She knows, however, that if she were to look into a mirror, her makeup will still be there. She closes her eyes again, takes a deep breath, and sinks out of the room.

When Deceit pops up into the kitchen, the situation is relatively the same as the previous day. Coffee sits waiting to be poured as Logan once again reads a book at the counter. Deceit goes over and pours two cups of coffee, bringing the sweetened one over to Logan. When she places it down, Logan looks up, less surprised than the day before about her being there and her making him his coffee. He doesn’t even say anything about how the coffee is made. However, his eyes widen in shock for a second when he notices what Deceit is wearing. Deceit nervously waits for what Logan will say about her outfit, or about her in general.

“You look nice, Dee.” is all he says, before taking a sip of his coffee. Deceit breathes a soft sigh of relief, and mumbles a quick “no thank you”, before going over and grabbing her own coffee.

She glances at the book Logan is reading when she gets back to the counter. It’s not a mystery this time, so there is nothing for her to really spoil. Instead she just sits, drinks her coffee, and watches him read silently.

Patton is the next side to arrive. He tiredly makes his coffee and walks over to them. He smiles slightly when he notices Logan’s coffee, the same as yesterday. It is then that he notices Deceit. All tiredness falls from his face as he takes her in.

“Aw, kiddo, you look so cute!” He says, rushing up to her.

“Be careful, Patton.You do not want to spill your coffee, do you?”

“Sorry, Lo.” Patton replies, slowing down and stopping in front of Deceit. “Dee, you look Dee-lightful! I love your outfit! . Oh, I would love to try it on sometime! Maybe we can play dress up together! Ooh ooh, maybe Roman could even join us!”

Deceit doesn’t know how to react; she’s not used to so much attention, especially to her outfit. Before she can say anything, Logan speaks up.

“Patton please, can’t you see that you are overwhelming Dee?” Patton then notices Deceit’s slightly uncomfortable look.

“Oops, sorry kiddo.” Patton sits down at the counter, next to them, trying to keep himself calm. They all fall into comfortable silence as they all drink their coffees and wake up more. Later on, Roman and Virgil show up. They both looked shocked at Deceit’s outfit, Roman more than Virgil.

“Look at you, Dee-who-cried-wolf! I love your outfit. And by gosh, your makeup! You have to show me how you apply it sometime! And...” Deceit zones out as Roman starts going on a tangent.She looks over to Virgil, who gives her a small smile and a thumbs up. She smiles back at him.

The morning progresses as usual, but Deceit can feel the difference. And it’s a difference that means the world to her.

“Can you ask Dee what she wants for breakfast?”

Yeah, she can get used to this.

national coming out day 2019

originally posted 10.11.2019 on my personal facebook page

To everyone:

National Coming Out Day is today, Friday October 11, 2019.

And I know this post is late. I realize it is after midnight on the east coast so technically it isn’t National Coming Out Day anymore, but something happened tonight that was monumental- and I didn’t get to finish my initial thought while writing earlier. Keep reading, please:

I am excited to celebrate in my first National Coming Out Day, in 2019, as an officially-out member of the gay community. However, today has been very emotional as it causes me to pause for a moment and reflect on my own journey and how I arrived here. As I am reading articles and newsfeeds on the internet today and seeing people compelled in the acceptance and encouragement of this day, to come out, I must say I have very pointed and mixed emotions.

I have mentioned and identified myself as a gay man in a few blogs that I have written recently (that I am sure nobody reads), however, this is really the first time I have publicly acknowledged it as a whole on Facebook- other than to those who I have directly come out to. I have taken pleasure in promoting myself as an ally for a few years now, but I am tired of hiding behind that identity and am ready to step out into the light and live a full, unfiltered and authentic life.

I have known I was different for a long time. I felt feelings as a young child that I simply did not understand, and those feelings did not go away- they never have and only intensified over time. I was raised in an extremely conservative-Christian household, taught that being gay was an immoral and unnatural thing, I got the hellfire and brimstone speech and I was encouraged and forced to speak hate towards things that were supposedly against God. And I did those things. And I hurt people. And I never wanted to do them. But, I always knew that I was what I was forced to speak out about.

I became extremely depressed and suicidal in my teenage years. I tucked away my true self and I damaged myself mentally and physically with the rhetoric I was forced to digest. I never felt like I could be me, until now. In this moment. But getting to this point hasn’t been easy. It has been countless therapy sessions, panic attacks, many nights crying myself to sleep and length of time to get me to finally accept myself and allow myself to explore with the God-given (yes, God-given) gift that being gay has ultimately brought me.

Let’s talk about God for just a quick moment. Know that I am a spiritual person but there is no religion here. Not a drop.

You can throw Genesis 19, Leviticus 18 & 20, Romans 1:18-32, 1 Corinthians 6:9-10 and 1 Timothy 1:8-10 at me all day. The Bible says what it says, but it does not mean anything to me personally. The Bible was a manuscript that was written for an ancient time, in an ancient time and does not take into consideration the advancements in human thought and condition over the many years since its inception. The Bible should not be a standard to compare, govern nor should it be used as a tool ultimately control how people live nowadays. Without discrediting the text itself, I do believe there are great life-lessons to be learned from the Bible about love and how to conduct yourself in a more upright way. However, I believe that taking the current Christian argument to the case of homosexuality is the wrong thing to do. And I will vehemently disagree with anyone who does this. It is damaging. It is hurtful and it adds no real value to anything.

Contrary to what religious types will argue, being gay is not wrong. It is not ungodly; it is not a sin and gay people will not go to Hell- even if there is such a place. Being gay is way more than a physical thing. It is an emotional intelligence, it is the idea of love, acceptance and tolerance that comes with a huge responsibility. Being gay is not defined by who you love or choose to be intimate with or enter into marriage with. It is not a choice; it is a reality, a truth, a tangible thing. It is also a greater expansion of oneself, ones spirit and your ability to express love and accept love.

Saying that I was a repressed gay man until the age of 34 is the understatement of the year. I wanted so desperately to explore my sexuality in high school, when at age 16 I decided that I had struggled long enough with trying to figure out what being gay meant and finally internally accepted that I was.

However, I didn’t have the freedom to operate in or express my sexuality, as a teen in my household, at the time. I got bullied in school for not dating women, so I did, and I eventually married a woman. Several years in, while trying rather unsuccessfully at keeping the charade going and while being accused almost daily of being a closeted gay man- we divorced. I had to lie to my friends and family, I had to create a scenario where I was the good guy and she was the bad guy and she did all these things that contributed to the breakdown in our marriage. I wanted something that I felt like I couldn’t have at the time and I couldn’t be the partner she needed much less deserved. We are both better people apart than we ever were together and marrying her is the single biggest regret in my life.

As I’ve grown older and started to formulate my own opinions and ideas about things, I decided to distance myself from my faith and seek a journey of my own understanding. Part of that journey was finally resolving in this year to come out to friends and family.

I told everyone by the end of July, except my dad. I know his opinion of gay folks- he has made it clear. Nothing derogatory of course, but the ignorance to it shows through sometimes. I also know where he stands from a religious perspective- he has also made that clear. He has accepted my friends who are gay, he wants to meet my new friends who are RubiGirls, see a drag show and he wants to know things or ask things but is sometimes hesitant to do it.

I’ve been on an exposure-therapy campaign with him over the past several months. I put a pride flag in my bedroom, some drag queen paraphernalia went on display, I went to 2 Pride celebrations this year- one in Dayton and the other in Cincinnati. He knows what I’m doing is out of the ordinary for me because I’ve never done it before but have always wanted to and have been interested in it. I wanted to go to a Pride event for many years, but I just couldn’t do it. So, as I’ve slowly been exposing him to things and being a little more vocal about my standpoints and viewpoints on LGBTQIA+ issues in the news and culture, he has started to gather and form an opinion.

Today, I was reading a page on Facebook that stated it was a moderated safe space for individuals who were not out to talk and share their stories. What I read was heartbreaking; just the sheer ignorance of parents and things they say to their children just for being gay. I wanted to talk to dad about it, and I did. I told him some of the terrible things that happened to people- mostly issues between sons and fathers- and he expressed to me his disgust with families disowning children just for being gay. I understand and fully appreciate his comment of “…well, I don’t understand it totally, but I’d want my kid to be happy and healthy. There are bigger ‘crimes’ than being gay.”

This ultimately led into a 90+ minute conversation where I was able to tell him how I felt and my entire 16-year backstory. There is more to discuss between he and I, but my tone was measured and precise. The main thing I needed to say, in order to heal myself, be true to myself and allow myself to advance in my life were these 4 words: Dad, I am gay.

We talked and talked some more. He is not mad, a little confused (which is a normal response), and more reflective. He expressed to me that he wants me to be happy, healthy and to make wise decisions (typical dad advice). He also said he loves me and supports me, and always will, regardless of any decision I make – good or bad – in my life.

What a relief this is! On my first real National Coming Out Day I was able to finish writing the prologue of my story of becoming the person I always knew I could be. I am starting to write the chapters of my new life around all the garbage that is in the past. It’s a new day and I am ready to face it with the full support and love of my parents by my side. I truly am blessed and lucky to have this experience play out as it did. A lot of people do not get what I have, and I am very fortunate.

For those of you who need support in whatever journey you may be on, reach out to me if you feel comfortable in doing so. I’m a safe person to come out to. If you’re reading this and you have questions, contact me too. I’m an open book- ask away. If you’re reading this, and you have nothing positive or of value to say then move on.

Thanks for allowing me to share my life so unfiltered and express that vulnerability on the internet for all to consume. This goes a long way in my healing and with moving forward in my life. And, thank you to all of those who have supported me in the past several months as I have made declarations to you about my life. Your love and support mean the world to me and I can never thank you enough.

Love, Jacob

He’s Hurting Me Pt 5

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 

Summary: Patton wakes up and finds a message from Logan that puts his anxiety on edge

Warnings: Hints at abuse, discussion of abuse.

Part 5

Patton awoke groggily, opening his eye to a dark, messy room. His mind automatically jumped to last night, and he felt heart his sink. Everything suddenly became heavier, getting up seemed harder, inside his chest a sick feeling began spreading, seeping throughout his body. He forced himself to take breath, the feeling of temporary relief warming his heart, but it made his panic more evident. He breathed again, pushing himself up.

He reached out and grabbed his round, gold-framed glasses from their place on the bedside table, carefully putting them on. The darkness became focused, sharper, but it was still darkness, and it still felt like it was swallowing him. Desperate for a distraction, Patton retrieved his phone, allowing himself to bathe in the cold light. He felt almost numb as he processed the time; 1 o’clock. He had meant to get up early, he had so much stuff to do, how had he slept that long?

Patton also noticed the barrage of notifications, the earliest being from Roman at some ungodly hour in the morning.

Princey 👑❤️: Good morning!

Princey 👑❤️: You left pretty early yesterday

Princey 👑❤️: Which is cool

Princey 👑❤️: But we barely got a chance to chat, and I have sooo much to tell you

Princey 👑❤️: Fancy a coffee, my treat?

Despite the disgusting feeling pulling at his insides, Patton couldn’t help the slightest smile that formed on his lips. Roman was not capable of saying all he wanted in a single message, instead he sent fragmented sentences of conversation, but Patton found it endearing. The smile was replaced with a frown as he began tapping out an apologetic excuse.

The feeling of guilt that tugged on his heart only worsened after replying to Roman. He really did miss their chats, and felt awful Roman couldn’t tell him what he wanted, but he knew Mike would be upset, and he really did need to do stuff with what remained of the day.

Another message had been sent at a far too early time, though still slightly later than Roman’s. It was Virgil, who, assumedly, had been forced up by his boyfriend.

My Dark Strange Son 😈💜: Hey Patton, you seemed kinda stressed yesterday, I hope you’re alright bud. I’m always here if you need.

Patton’s frown deepened. He knew Virgil, and the others, were there for him. But they didn’t need to be. He didn’t have a right to complain about anything to them. Others had it far worse than him. They had had it far worse than him. It felt wrong to even consider talking to them. What would he even talk about? He was fine. Still, he was moved by Virgil’s offer, and assured him he understood but was okay.

The last message was at a far more reasonable time.

Lo 👓💙: Patton, we need to talk.

Patton’s heart sunk even further. What was that about? Was there a problem? Was Logan okay? Oh God, what if Logan was in trouble? What if he was ill or something? Worry consumed him, as he typed out his reply, Logan had to be okay. He wasn’t sure what he’d do without Logan.

Me: About what?

Patton felt his nerves grow as he waited for a reply, so he slung his legs over the edge of the bed and forced himself up, despite feeling like a metaphorical dumpster fire. He pulled on a pair of light, plaid, pyjama pants and a soft, pale shirt. As he went to walk out, he heard Mike let out a soft murmur, as he moved slightly in his sleep. Patton stared at him; his hair a mess, his face peaceful, his body wrapped in the blanket. It was adorable. Patton wanted to smile at the sight. But it felt too difficult. Everything felt to difficult. Nothing felt, well, okay.

But still Patton pushed through.

He made his way out to the kitchen, routinely grabbing a glass and a mug, putting the kettle on, grabbing some milk and some orange juice, etc. As usual, he poured himself some juice and set about making Mike his coffee (medium strength with two sugars.) But he didn’t feel like his normal cheerful self, he didn’t hum like usual, or dance to nothing like usual, instead his movements were sluggish and half-hearted. His mind seemed detached, like it was trapped somewhere else. He felt the constant need to cry, it was almost overpowering. But still he pushed through, only letting a few stray, forgotten tears fall.

“Good morning, pet.” Mike’s voice startled him out of his trance, as strong arms wrapped around his waist and he felt a weight on his shoulder.

“Good morning.” Patton hummed, trying to sound as happy as usual.

“Aren’t you an angel.” Mike smiled as Patton finished making his coffee. He removed his arms and took the coffee gratefully. “I’m going back to bed, wanna watch The Office and cuddle?”

Patton turned to him, his spirits lifting slightly as he nodded. “I’ll make us some pancakes, be with you soon!” Patton shone artificially.

Mike chuckled. “Sounds good, darling.” He lightly kissed his boyfriends cheek, and disappeared back into their room.

Patton sighed, again, as he gathered the ingredients he needed and tried to ignore the feeling in the pit of his being, the burning, wrenching, feeling. Just as he s mixing the batter, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket, harshly pulling him back to reality. He checked the caller ID before bringing the phone to his ear.

“Hey Logan, what’s up?” Patton forced out, as chirpily as he possibly could.

“Patton, we need a serious conversation, are you free?” Logan’s voice was strong and unflinching, Patton could feel his heart plummet.

“Um, actually I was just getting ready to spend the day with Mike…”

“Please Patton.” There was a desperation in Logan’s voice that terrified him, his head rushed with all the reasons for this.

“I can tell, please just-I can talk now, like, on the phone.” There was a pause. “Please Logan, tell me what’s wrong. I’m worried.” Patton begged, all he wanted was to help his friend, he just had to find out how.

Logan let out a long intake of breath, he was incredibly reluctant to talk over the phone, but also, he couldn’t stop himself. The thought had be burning at the front of his mind for so long that in that moment, he completely lost his logically self-control. As he spoke, Patton turned to see Mike staring at him from the doorway, an inquisitive and questioning look plastered on his features.

“I’m… I’m worried your relationship with Mike is… is abusive.”

Patton’s face fell, his heart stopped, cold and icy dread ran through him, splintering his bones.

“… Hold on…” Patton held up a finger to Mike, signalling he’d be one moment, and mouthed “It’s important,” at him.

Patton hurried to their front door, he left it on latch as he walked out onto their driveway, pacing back and forth nervously, the gravel crunched softly beneath his feet.

“Logan…What?” Memories of last night appeared fresh in his mind. The insults. The yelling. The bit afterwards. But that wasn’t abuse, Patton was okay with all of it. He was fine, he forgave him, he understood.

“You’re relationship…Mike’s barely letting you see any of us, he’s always involved in all your decisions, he controls your every move. You’re becoming more isolated. More distant. These are telling signs of abuse…”

Dead silence.

“I…I just want you to be okay… And I’m sorry, but I don’t think you are.” Logan’s voice was soft, almost remorseful, everything he said was laced with hurt.

“But he’s never hit me or anythi-“

“-There is far more types of abuse than just physical. All are equally as traumatic and as detrimental to your health.” He stated matter-of-factly.

“I mean, sure, we fight, and he can sometimes get mad at me, but I still love him. That’s not abusive.” For a moment, Patton wasn’t sure if he was talking to Logan or himself.

There was a deep sigh as Logan tried to work out how to kindly convey his thoughts. “Think of Roman and Virgil, they’re practically the architype of a healthy, loving relationship. Do they control each other the way Mike controls you?”

“Well no, but they’re different people. You can’t compare my relationship to theirs. It’s different.”

There was another deep sigh, Logan was clearly having trouble dealing with emotions and trying to convince Patton something was wrong.

“…I really care about you Patton…”

“Aww Lo, I know you do.”

“Then please, please listen to me. You must know, deep down, something is wrong. And I know… you…you love him, but sometimes a relationship just isn’t beneficial to a person’s life, or health, even despite their love.”

“I know. I know to a certain point you are right. I am seeing you guys less, and that’s not nice. But I promise you I’m okay. And I’ll prove it by making my own decision right now, wanna grab a coffee tomorrow?”

“…Are you sure?”

“Of course, it’s been a while since it’s been just us. Hey, maybe we can go for a walk afterwards as well. Though saying this, I’ll have to arrange meeting with Roman at some point too.” Patton rambled on, a small smile creeping onto his face at the thought of properly hanging with his friends again.  

“I’d like that very much. Shall we say 12, at the little café near the school?”

“Sounds great, I’ll see you then!”

“Patton…”

“Yeah?”

“…Take care, okay?”

“Of course, you too.” With that he hung up. Immediately he began tapping out a message to Roman, asking to meet on Tuesday at his shop.

As he turned back, chest slightly lighter, he stopped dead in his tracks. A menacing figure blocked the doorway, fire burnt within its eyes, everything about it was intimidating.

“Mike… How long h-“

“Inside. Now.” He snarled, his voice clipped and threatening. He turned, and Patton followed.

Notes: You may be wondering Kim, what is our update schedule? The answer is Kim’s got no clue... I guess I’ll just keep posting till I run out of my pre-written chapters, then the updates will be a bit slower... 

Taglist:

@bunny222

@smedenn

@beautifully-terribly

@hellomusicalnerdhere

@its-jambi-baby

@rainbow-sides

@awkwardangie410

@bluebloodstains

@sopi-montezzz

@am-i-heaven-or-am-i-hell

@toomuchandnotenough

@angered-turtle

@roman-is-a-dramatic-prince

@madly-handsome

@candiukas

Unholiest - Chapter Two

Original story by R.D. Shepard. Read Chapter One Here.

Genre(s): Historical Fiction, Supernatural, Romance Content Warnings: HIV/AIDS diagnosis, homophobia, missing person, eating disorder, grief, suicide mention, drugging Author’s Notes: Thanks for reading! This is chapter two of the Unholiest novel I’ve been writing for over a year now. This novel was heavily inspired by a TTRPG series that I’ve been a huge fan of for a long time; with the uploading of each chapter, it’ll likely become apparent which TTRPG series it is, haha. Enjoy! Summary: Mac Whelan and Drew Kelly are a young, openly gay couple in the early 1980s, living in NYC and struggling to make ends meet. It’s hard enough being out of the closet in the midst of the AIDS crisis—but when Mac suddenly goes missing, Drew struggles with the grief of losing the first man he ever loved while also dealing with the existential dread of his own mortality. When he discovers what happened to his fiancé, though... heads will roll.

It had been six months since Mac had disappeared, leaving behind nothing but a vague note explaining why he had to leave.  It had been horrible the first four months, of course; Drew only left the apartment every few weeks to get coffee grounds and filters for the coffee pot, as that was the only thing he could stomach most of the time.  He’d lost a good amount of weight – not from sickness, of course, but from being too depressed to eat.

But Deloreah and her friends brought him to the grocery store after a few months, forcing him to pick up the things he needed to survive.  It was an intervention of sorts; he’d lost his job in his depressive spiral, and they were so terrified he was just going to off himself that they had to reel him back in.

He was feeling better—no, that was a lie.  His heart was still smashed into millions of painful little shards, and even in their broken form, they throbbed, ached with pain and longing, mourning for the love of his life.  He just wasn’t as suicidal as he had been only two months ago.  He knew he had to carry on, but he didn’t know how; all he knew was that he had to at least survive.

It had been six months since Mac left him to spare him of watching his fiancé die slowly of an incurable, untreatable illness... but it had only been a few weeks since Deloreah took him to the clinic to get tested for HIV.  He’d gotten a call to return to the clinic last week, and when he heard the news, it only confirmed what he already knew: he was HIV-positive.

Dr. Stannard had offered him an experimental treatment that was showing early signs of success in fighting the virus, but he’d declined politely and left.  He stayed in his apartment for a few days, eating only a bowl of bland cereal and drinking ungodly amounts of black coffee each day. He didn’t know what to do; was there a point in doing anything if he was going to die anyway?

He wanted to say he’d came to his senses and realized this was no way to live, gone back to the doctor and volunteered for that treatment.  But that didn’t happen.  That wasn’t the reason he’d left his apartment for the first time that week on Saturday night.

It was the cut-out newspaper listing that somebody slid under his door, circled in bright red pen, that got him out tonight.  It was titled, “So You’re Dying – So Are We.”  In italics underneath that, there was a small description: “Not everything has to end the moment we find out our lives will.  Dr. Goodfellow can help you come to terms with it without exacerbating your fears.”  Underneath that, in bold, all-capital letters, was an address for an office in downtown Manhattan, maybe five blocks away from his apartment.

There he walked, dressed in Mac’s patch-covered, punk leather jacket and his own skinny jeans and boots to keep out the cold of late autumn.  He finally stopped at a bus station, pulling the clipping out of his pocket to look at the address again, then glanced up at the building in front of him: it wasn’t the tallest building he’d ever seen, but it was rather grander than he expected. The first floor with practically undamaged concrete steps leading to the mirrored glass doors had a large, elegant neon sign above the doors, labeling it as the Goodfellow Charitable Art Gallery.  As he walked up the steps, he saw the directory sign posted beside the double doors.  It seemed that Goodfellow owned this entire building, as his name was plastered in the title of every business on each floor.  And his personal office was at the very top.

Taking a breath, Drew opened the doors, stepping inside.

Right away, he felt completely out of place.  The art gallery sat upon a marbled stone floor, the art-covered walls a similar shade of painted grey but bordered in gold-painted wooden trim along every corner.  If that hadn’t been enough, the patrons of the current gallery showing were all dressed like billionaires; every woman wore a fur-lined coat and expensive kitten heels, while every man wore a flawless three-piece suit, each looking like it was tailored by a Gucci designer.  He instantly received a few disgusted looks, but he ignored them the best he could, walking through the gallery to find the building’s elevator.

“Well, hello.” Someone caught his arm, and when he looked back, he saw the most intimidatingly beautiful woman he’d ever seen in his life.  She was much taller than him, especially in her knee-high, green velvet boots and extremely short, body-con black dress.  Her strawberry blond hair was pinned into a bob atop her head, a few perfectly curled locks hanging down to frame her freckled, pale face.  Her makeup looked intentionally heavy, from her long, thick lashes to her glossy pink lips.  But the things that caught his attention the most were her eyes, as they nearly glowed an emerald green.  She grinned eagerly, softly squeezing his thin bicep in her hand.  “You don’t look like you belong here... but the most interesting people don’t.  What’s your name?”

Drew plucked her hand off his arm gently, giving a tight but polite smile.  “Drew Kelly.  But I’m... Sorry, I'm not here for the gallery.  Do you know where the elevator to the doctor’s office is?”

Her eyes seemed to glint in curiosity.  “You’re here to see Goodfellow? Interesting.” She glanced over his leather jacket, amused by the sheer number of patches sewn into it.  “Goodfellow put that advertisement in the paper after his daughter was diagnosed with leukemia.  I don’t know if he’s in his office, but...”  Her vivid eyes returned to gaze into his, tilting her head with another smile.  “If someone like you has the boldness to march into this gallery just to see him, what is stopping the rest of us?”  Drew furrowed his brow in response, and she giggled, pointing a long finger behind her, where a hallway hid behind one of the separated gallery walls.  “The elevator is down that hallway.  Would you mind if I joined you, Drew?”

He stared at her, trying to determine her motive for a few seconds before he sighed.  “That’s... fine, I guess.”

“Wonderful.”  She turned, elegantly shuffling past other patrons toward the hallway, and he followed cautiously but closely behind.

The elevator at the end of the hallway was a stark difference in aesthetic compared to the gallery – it was a simple metal elevator with two buttons with arrows on them, one pointing up and the other pointing down.  She pressed her thumb into the button pointing upward, and it glowed faintly red as the elevator doors opened.  They both stepped inside the small elevator, and the woman quickly looked over the several buttons lining the side, all numbered in order, pressing the top button – the tenth floor.  The doors shut, and the elevator began its ascent, a soft instrumental tune playing over the speakers in the ceiling.

The woman turned to him with a sudden gasp.  “Oh, how absolutely rude of me! I never introduced myself.”  She brushed her perfect hair away from her eyes with a few fingers; Drew noticed she had a simple, gold wedding band on her left ring finger.  “My name is Professor Lana Bixby.  I am the curator of tonight’s gallery showing.”

Drew felt his throat go cotton dry.  “I-- It’s, ah, nice to meet you, Lana.”

“Please, I prefer Lane.” She smiled, absently looking over the walls of the elevator.  “‘Drew Kelly’ sounds awfully familiar as a name.  I feel like I’ve heard it recently.”

Drew’s gaze lowered to the floor.  “You might be thinking of Drew Carey.  That’s what my friends nicknamed me.”

Lane raised an eyebrow at him, glancing over for just a second before she returned her eyes to the elevator’s progress above the doors.  They’d made it to the fifth floor already.  “I’m sure that’s a common misattribution.  But that’s not who I’m thinking of... Why, I’m certain I heard someone mention a Drew Kelly at some point.” Drew suddenly looked over at her with narrowed eyes, examining her face, as though he would try to read her mind through her expression.  Yet she was smiling curiously as she watched each floor number glow atop the elevator doors. “Oh well.  Perhaps it’ll come to me later.”

She was toying with him. But why?

The elevator suddenly beeped loudly, and the elevator doors opened, revealing a long red-painted hallway adorned with gold frames holding paintings of many kinds.  Several expensive-looking, matching rugs covered the grey, marbled tile floor between several heavy-looking doors lining the walls directly across from each other.  At the end of the hallway, maybe fifty feet forward, was another heavy wooden door with a metal plaque at eye level that read “Dr. Cyrus Goodfellow” in engraved cursive.

Drew felt his heart start to pound, but Lane nonchalantly made her way toward the door, glancing back at him as she walked.  “Oh, Drew. Don’t tell me you’re scared, now. Goodfellow’s a good fellow.”  She winked, turning back to the door and stopping in front of it.  He swallowed hard but quickly followed, standing beside her with his fingers nervously twitching in his jacket’s pockets.  As soon as she sensed his presence next to her, she knocked her fist against the door. “Cyrus, darling.  I’m sorry to bother, but there’s a young man here to see you.”

There was a moment of silence... and then he heard a deep voice muffled behind the door.  “Bring him in.”

Lane smiled at Drew, motioning toward the door.  “After you, lovely.”

Drew took a deep breath, twisting the doorknob and opening the door.  The first thing he saw was a dark office, only dimly lit by a green and gold string lamp atop a desk, where an older white man, possibly in his forties and with golden hair slicked back by gel, sat in a rich leather desk chair, a curious look on his face.

The last thing he saw was a delicate, pale hand reaching up to his face from behind him, holding a soaked paper towel that was subsequently forced against his nose.

4, 7, 9 (Revolutionary), 25.

4.) What is your favorite genre to write for?

HURT/COMFORT, hands down and bar none. Hurt/comfort is absolutely my jam, because—listen. I am really good with angst. I am skilled at coming up with really dark, angsty scenarios, and I absolutely have a thing where I like to put my favorite characters through some degree of emotional (and sometimes physical) torment. Like, it really depends on the characters, but you know that one text post that’s like, “I want to see Character A get hurt, and Character B get really angsty about it”? That’s me, right there. I like to do that. I wrote a 100k fic of my Yu-Gi-Oh! OTP where that text post basically sums them up for the duration of the fic. (Though trust me, the one getting hurt was plenty angsty about the situation.) It’s a good (though dramatic) time. I tend to be pretty good at that.

But that said … I’m of the opinion that there needs to be some emotional payoff, and that’s where the comfort comes in. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not wholly averse to tragedies; I have a few in mind, and there are some stories that I feel truly do earn their unhappy endings. Animorphs is one of those, ultimately, though there is at least one character that makes it out all right. But with that said, when I write … if I’m going to have my readers watch characters they love suffer for a while, then I want to reward them, so to speak, with those characters getting the comfort that they also deserve at some point down the line. I might have—or rather, did write 100k of my YGO OTP suffering, but I also reunited and gave them a happy ending at the end of it all. There was a whole lot of hurt, but it was rewarded with comfort. I loooooove angst, and I’m skilled at writing it, but I also like writing that comfort as well.

(And on that note? One of my very best friends @severalbakuras helped get me through writing my masters thesis by co-writing Keitor hurt/comfort with me over Discord. Don’t get me wrong, I was steadily working on my thesis, but I’d write my thesis while I waited for her reply, take a small break to shoot a reply back at her, and then return to my thesis. Knowing that I’d have some delicious Keitor hurt/comfort to look forward to when I opened up the Discord window really spiked some joy into my heart and helped get me through the thesis writing progress, so honestly … I just really, really love hurt/comfort. It’s magnificent.)

7.) When is your preferred time to write?

That’s … a complicated question. Honestly, I would prefer to write during the hours in which I’m supposed to be awake, i.e., anywhere between 1pm and 10pm. Unfortunately, my brain only likes to be at its most creative and awake between the hours of 3am and 7am, when I should have already been asleep for hours due to the fact that I work a full time job during the day. It’s … a curse, honestly, and it all comes down to my delayed sleep phase disorder / probable ADD and just … I just want to be diurnal, man. I’d give anything to be diurnal. But I’m nocturnal, and as such my best writing happens when it’s an ungodly hour of the night / morning and I should be asleep. C u r s e d.

9.) In Revolutionary, what’s your favourite scene that you wrote?

Ooh … this one is a bit hard, because honestly, there are a few different scenes (or parts of scenes, at least) that come to mind, and I don’t … I don’t think I can pick just one. So at the risk of sounding a bit arrogant, it’s a toss-up between:

During the scene when the canon reality Paladins are on the bridge, and they’ve confronted this reality’s Paladins, they get into an argument over what Lotor and his team have decided to do with Voltron. Specifically:

“You said you needed Voltron,” he said, and once again his eyes were narrowed in Keith’s direction. Keith returned the stare in kind. “What could you possibly need Voltron for? The Galra Empire has already dominated half the universe. Zarkon’s ships are powerful enough to destroy any fleet. Why do you need Voltron at all?”

“You really are good at missing the obvious, aren’t you?” Ezor asked. Shiro glared at her.

“It’s to neutralize the threat,” Allura said, ignoring Ezor. “Zarkon wanted control of Voltron so that it could not be used against him. Now that he has it—”

“But wait,” Pidge said. “Wasn’t Zarkon obsessed with the Black Lion? He wanted it for himself. So if that’s the case, why’s he letting Keith fly it?”

“Zarkon’s not letting me do anything,” Keith said, disgusted. “We don’t answer to him, and he doesn’t have anything he didn’t already have before we found the Castle.”

Shiro looked back at Keith. “Then what are you doing with it?”

“My father and his Empire have ruled this universe for ten thousand years too long,” Lotor said. He smirked a little as all eyes turned to him. “We seek to change that via revolution.”

“Uhh, nu-uh, no way,” Lance said, and he raised one hand in a stop gesture toward Lotor. “There’s no way you can stand there and try to tell us that you’re the good guys when we’re the good guys. That’s not how this works.”

Lotor gave him a disdainful look. “I was under the impression that we were discussing a war, not a children’s game of Police and Rebels. Please feel free to rejoin the conversation when you’ve matured enough to understand that.”

[…]

“Voltron is a powerful weapon,” Keith said, feeling it best to change the subject to something Allura and the others could hopefully understand. “There are few things in the universe that can rival it, and it’s vital to taking down Zarkon. But all Voltron can do is defend and destroy, and we need to do so much—”

“Voltron is more than just a weapon,” Allura interrupted, and she glared at Keith. “It is a symbol of hope, of victory and eventual peace, and it inspires all who see it. The fact that you do not recognize that is proof enough that you do not deserve to have it.”

“While Voltron may indeed be the symbol you speak of,” Lotor said, “the fact remains, Princess Allura, that symbols do not win wars. Soldiers do. Your words are beautiful, but in the face of an Empire that has ruled for ten thousand years, they are easily crushed. And if you arm the revolution with nothing more than ideals and empty promises, then so, too, are they.”

“The promise of Voltron is not empty,” Allura said fiercely. “And giving people hope when they’ve had none for ten thousand years—giving them something to believe in when they’ve had nothing, is not—!”

“We are giving them something to believe in,” Keith said, and though she turned her scowl back to him, he didn’t back down. “Themselves. Voltron is the most powerful weapon in the universe, but it’s also only one weapon, or five if you count each Lion separately. Voltron can’t be everywhere at once. It’s not possible. While none of the Empire’s fleets can match Voltron in terms of raw strength, that won’t stop them from going back to planets we’ve brought to our side and crushing them while we’re on the other side of the universe trying to help someone else. So we’re teaching them—we’re training them so that they can defend and protect themselves. We’re giving them the strength they need to hit back against the Empire when Zarkon’s commanders come knocking on their doors. We’ll help them when we can, but we won’t always be able to. Voltron won’t always be there. They need to be able to believe in and defend themselves when the time comes.”

“That’s just an excuse to get out of helping people,” Lance said.

Fire lashed through Keith’s veins. “No, it’s not!”

I loved writing the entire scene on the bridge for a lot of reasons, not the least of which because having the canon reality Paladins confront this alternate reality where Lotor, Keith, Acxa, Zethrid, Narti, and Ezor were the Paladins of Voltron instead was a really exciting concept for me. But I really loved writing the above dialogue in particular because it reflects a lot of my feelings about the show, and the situation the characters are all in now. The counter to the idea that the canon reality Paladins are Always Right and that what they do is Always Good, the point that the freed planets being reliant on Voltron is a huge problem and leaves them vulnerable to the Empire, the idea that everyone shouldn’t rally behind a symbol instead of seeing Voltron as the weapon it is (and that said symbol can’t protect them even if they do rally behind it) and so on—being able to point that out in a way that felt natural was something I really enjoyed doing. Also, not for nothing, but I had posted a snippet of this while writing, and a friend of mine who happened to come across that post said that he read this line:

“While Voltron may indeed be the symbol you speak of, the fact remains, Princess Allura, that symbols do not win wars. Soldiers do. Your words are beautiful, but in the face of an Empire that has ruled for ten thousand years, they are easily crushed. And if you arm the revolution with nothing more than ideals and empty promises, then so, too, are they.”

in AJ LoCascio’s voice, which is honestly one of the greatest compliments I have ever received in my entire life. So I mean, that was also a huge boost, haha.

Apart from that, though, I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t have a delightful time with both Keitor scenes. Again, more specifically:

The scene in the training room, both before and after Lotor shows up—I enjoyed the way I wove in both Keith’s physical actions in the present, and how he sparred with the training bot, and also how he reflected on his own thoughts and feelings with regards to the canon reality Paladins and what that said about the life he had led in this reality. (It’s also, going by post-date, the first mention we get of Revender, and oh … I can’t wait to get to that backstory fic, which might be in three-parts so that I can show Keith’s, Acxa’s, and Lotor’s perspectives on what happens on that planet.) I was proud of myself for how I managed to make that flow. But then, once Lotor does show up … I had a lot of fun with Lotor narrating Keith’s actions as a way to needle him into opening up, haha. It’s a bit flirty and ridiculous, but it’s flirty and ridiculous in a way that I feel suits them, and that was a lot of fun to write. (Oh, but also, the way their almost-kiss was interrupted? Ezor purposefully jumping between them? Keith and Acxa playing around on the sofa? Keith tossing “Fun Police Beat Cop” in Zethrid’s face when she calls them out? Yeah, I loved writing all of that, too.)

And then, of course, the scene at the very end. I’ve mentioned it in another post elsewhere, but including all the photos on the wall in Keith’s room was done because I both wanted to show that Keith feels at home in this castle, as well as highlight the fact that he has relationships with all of the other Paladins, not just Lotor—that this alternate reality wasn’t created just so that Keith could be with Lotor, but that Keith is close with each of the girls as well. Moreover, in that scene I also got to show not only that Keith has no problems telling Lotor to get out if he feels annoyed regardless of his feelings for Lotor (like, he’s in love with Lotor, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to sit there and take being lectured about safety from someone who flies into suns, all right), but also … well, the ending scene showcased my headcanon for how they confess feelings for each other, which is basically:

“You are invaluable to me, Keith, not because of what you can do, but because of who you are,” Lotor went on, and though he had raised his voice a little to speak over Keith, Keith’s own voice died in his throat. “Your presence by my side has been instrumental in my—in oursuccess. Yes, you have aided me in battle. Your piloting abilities have natural grace few could ever dream of achieving. But I’ve come to value your companionship more than any of your skillsets. I want you by my side not only for what we can accomplish in our revolution, but also for the time we spend together outside of it.” Lotor paused, and then added more quietly, “There may be others who are capable of training the auxiliary teams or piloting the Black Lion, Keith, but they could never mean to me what you do. For that, above all else, I do not wish to lose you.”

Every nerve in Keith’s body felt electrified. His heart was bashing itself so forcefully against his ribcage that he was not only acutely aware of every rapid beat, but it was actually a little painful. He couldn’t believe what he had just heard, but—Lotor had said it. He said it. Keith did hear every word. And there were no traces of humor in his tone, there was no light of laughter in his eyes. The stare that bore into Keith’s own eyes was not only serious, but sincere. Lotor meant every word. And Keith, his hands shaking—Keith, his out of control heartrate making it a little harder to breathe—Keith—

Keith cupped Lotor’s face between his hands and pulled him down into a fervent kiss.

Lotor confesses like he’s living in a Jane Austen novel. Keith throws words out of the equation altogether and goes straight for action.

So … yes, I loved writing all of those scenes, haha. For different reasons, maybe, but they’re all my favorites. Sorry to ramble on forever, but out of them all, I really could not choose just one. ^^

25.) Have you ever cried while writing a story?

Mmm, I don’t think so. This is going to sound horrible, but even when I’m writing very tragic things, the idea that it could evoke feelings of sadness or tears from my readers makes me feel more excited to do it right and get it posted than anything else, haha. It’s my job to evoke emotion in the reader, and the thought that I could succeed at that makes me really happy (and then I’m ecstatic if I do succeed). So even when I’m writing really tragic, horrible things happening to characters I love, I don’t shed tears because I’m too focused on making sure that I execute it well enough to make others shed tears. Which, again, I know sounds horrible, but … it’s true, nonetheless.

That said, I can still recognize when the things I write are brutal, and I may still feel some pain over it (such as with the hurt/comfort that SB and I wrote over Discord together—that one got me right in the feelings at several different points), but I still don’t shed tears over it. It gets me, but not enough to make me cry.

Thanks for sending these in!

For whom did Christ die?

Folks really get on my nerves when I post scripture stating that Christ only died for his people and then they will post a scripture that they believe teaches against this point.

These things have been discussed so many times on my Facebook page that only someone who is blind and lazy would have missed it.

But nevertheless, here we go again. I will post several Scriptures which teach that Christ only died for his people and then I will answer an objection and exegete several Scriptures which seem to teach the opposite.

It's all about not being lazy and doing the work of an exegete!

The scriptures:

Mat 26:28 KJV For this is my blood of the new testament, which is shed for MANY for the remission of sins.

Mar 10:45 KJV For even the Son of man came not to be ministered unto, but to minister, and to give his life a ransom for MANY.

Joh 10:11 KJV I am the good shepherd: the good shepherd giveth his life for the SHEEP.

Joh 10:15 KJV As the Father knoweth me, even so know I the Father: and I lay down my life for the SHEEP.

First, Notice that the above Scriptures, when left in context, teach exactly what they state. Namely; that Christ is giving his life a ransom for many, shedding his blood for many, and laying down his life for his sheep. Notice in John that Christ goes on to tell the religious pharisaical Jews that they are not his sheep.

Joh 10:24-26 KJV 24 Then came the Jews round about him, and said unto him, How long dost thou make us to doubt? If thou be the Christ, tell us plainly. 25 Jesus answered them, I told you, and ye believed not: the works that I do in my Father's name, they bear witness of me. 26 But ye believe not, because YE ARE NOT MY SHEEP, as I said unto you.

Notice that the self righteous religious rulers were not Christ's sheep, so that you have folks that are Christ's sheep and those that are not. In Matthew 25 we see Christ coming and dividing the sheep from the goats. No where does Christ ever say that he died for a goat.

Mat 25:32-33 KJV 32 And before him shall be gathered all nations: and he shall separate them one from another, as a shepherd divideth his SHEEP from the GOATS: 33 And he shall set the sheep on his right hand, but the goats on the left.

Secondly, these words are straight from Christ's own mouth. He states that he died for his people. Those who the Father giveth me shall come to me John 6:37 God the Father has chosen out, in eternity past, a people to give to his Son. Notice Christ's words in John 17:

Joh 17:1-2 KJV 1 These words spake Jesus, and lifted up his eyes to heaven, and said, Father, the hour is come; glorify thy Son, that thy Son also may glorify thee: 2 As thou hast given him power over all flesh, that he should give eternal life to as many as thou hast given him.

Christ has power over all flesh, but especially power over a particular flesh, which the Father gives him. Christ has been given power over this flesh or people, to give them eternal life.

Now let's deal with a few objections:

Object. 1. But God is not a respecter of persons:

This is only to be found in Acts. Act 10:34 KJV Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons:

Here Peter sees a vision, wherein he is told to rise up and eat, and he refuses seeing that nothing common or unclean has ever touched his mouth. In the vision he is told that what God hath cleansed do not call common. Immediately some Gentiles arrive at his door wanting him to come and preach to their master, who was a gentile. When Peter arrives he realizes that his vision had to do with nations, for he says:

Act 10:34-35 KJV 34 Then Peter opened his mouth, and said, Of a truth I perceive that God is no respecter of persons: 35 But in every nation he that feareth him, and worketh righteousness, is accepted with him.

So God is no respecter of Jews or Gentiles, but is calling men from all nations.

However, he is a respecter of individual persons and chooses whom he pleases within all nations. Scriptures to prove this:

Rom 9:11-13 KJV 11 (For the children being not yet born, neither having done any good or evil, that the purpose of God according to election might stand, not of works, but of him that calleth;) 12 It was said unto her, The elder shall serve the younger. 13 As it is written, Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated.

God chose Jacob, but left Esau in his sins. Matter of fact, Paul states that it is not of him that willieth nor of him that runneth, but of God that shows mercy. For he will have mercy on whom he will have mercy.

Rom 9:14-16 KJV 14 What shall we say then? Is there unrighteousness with God? God forbid. 15 For he saith to Moses, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion. 16 So then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that sheweth mercy.

God even raises men up to judge them:

Rom 9:17 KJV For the scripture saith unto Pharaoh, Even for this same purpose have I raised thee up, that I might shew my power in thee, and that my name might be declared throughout all the earth.

Rom 9:18 KJV Therefore hath he mercy on whom he will have mercy, and whom he will he hardeneth.

So God does not respect nations and is saving men from among all nations, however, he does respect persons and saves whom he pleases.

Thirdly, scripture does not contradict scripture. If one scripture explicitly states one thing, then you cannot take another scripture which seems to imply something different and try to contradict it. God is not contradictory, nor is he the author of confusion 1 Cor. 14:33.

Here are some Scriptures which Arminians and heretics use to try and contradict 'limited atonement,' or that Christ only died for his sheep.

1Ti 2:4-6 KJV 4 Who will have all men to be saved, and to come unto the knowledge of the truth. 5 For there is one God, and one mediator between God and men, the man Christ Jesus; 6 Who gave himself a ransom for all, to be testified in due time.

1st. This can't mean that God wills decretively or that God has decreed and ordained that all men be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth, for certainly some have been ordained to error.

Jud 1:4 KJV For there are certain men crept in unawares, who were before of old ORDAINED to this condemnation, ungodly men, turning the grace of our God into lasciviousness, and denying the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ.

2ndly, we also see that these Scriptures seem to teach that Christ gave himself a ransom for 'all.' If this be the case, then no one, and I mean absolutely no one will go to Hell. To give a ransom is to pay a redemption price. Christ has certainly ransomed a certain people for himself, but who are the 'all,' in the text?

Both the 'all' whom God will have be saved and the 'all' which Christ gave himself a ransom price can be found within the context of the Scriptures surrounding 1 Tim. 2:4-6. Go back to the beginning of the chapter.

1Ti 2:1-2 KJV 1 I exhort therefore, that, first of all, supplications, prayers, intercessions, and giving of thanks, be made for all men; 2 For kings, and for all that are in authority; that we may lead a quiet and peaceable life in all godliness and honesty.

Paul is telling Timothy to make supplications, prayers, intercession, and giving of thanks for all men, especially for Kings and all in authority......notice Paul begins to name particular types of men that prayers are to be made for. Don't just pray for your friends. Don't just pray for the poor. But don't neglect praying for the rich and for Kings because God wills that all types of men be saved and to come to the knowledge of the truth and Christ gave himself a ransom for all types of men, not just Jews, not just the poor, but for all types of men.

Now you may not like my exegesis of this passage, but nevertheless I have interpreted it in such a way that it does not contradict Christ's words that he died for his people. I have harmonized the two passages.

Now let's look at 2 Peter 3:9:

2Pe 3:9 KJV The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

I have explained this passage so much that I am really sick of having to type out an explanation of it. If people would recognize pronouns, then their interpretation of scripture wouldn't be so one sided. However, most today are lazy and will not spend the time working with the text.

Who is the epistle written too?

2Pe 1:1 KJV Simon Peter, a servant and an apostle of Jesus Christ, to them that have obtained like precious faith with us through the righteousness of God and our Saviour Jesus Christ:

To them which have obtained like precious faith. This ought to give you a hint into whom the pronouns in this epistle are referring too. They are not referring to everyone in the world, but only those who have obtained like precious faith with Peter.

Now let's turn to chapter 3.

2Pe 3:1 KJV This second epistle, beloved, I now write unto you; in both which I stir up your pure minds by way of remembrance:

Notice Peter is again stating who he is writing this epistle to by calling them 'beloved.' The 'beloved' are all who have obtained like precious faith. These are the redeemed. Those who have been born again.

2Pe 3:2-7 KJV 2 That ye may be mindful of the words which were spoken before by the holy prophets, and of the commandment of us the apostles of the Lord and Saviour: 3 Knowing this first, that there shall come in the last days scoffers, walking after their own lusts, 4 And saying, Where is the promise of his coming? for since the fathers fell asleep, all things continue as they were from the beginning of the creation. 5 For this they willingly are ignorant of, that by the word of God the heavens were of old, and the earth standing out of the water and in the water: 6 Whereby the world that then was, being overflowed with water, perished: 7 But the heavens and the earth, which are now, by the same word are kept in store, reserved unto fire against the day of judgment and perdition of ungodly men.

Beloved or those who have obtained like precious faith, be mindful of the words spoken by the prophets and the commandment of us the apostles, that there shall come scoffers in the last days saying, 'Where is the promise of his coming?' Since the Father's fell sleep, all things continue on like they always have. But these scoffers are willingly ignorant and do not remember God's first judgment, when the world that then was was overflowed with water.

2Pe 3:8 KJV But, beloved, be not ignorant of this one thing, that one day is with the Lord as a thousand years, and a thousand years as one day.

Beloved or those who have obtained like precious faith, we would not have you to be ignorant. Time is nothing to God. A thousand years is like a day with him. He is not bound by time and works as it pleases him. But we would not have you ignorant because though these scoffers are breathing out words of ignorance, nevertheless Christ is coming.

Now what is holding him back?

2Pe 3:9 KJV The Lord is not slack concerning his promise, as some men count slackness; but is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

The Lord is not slack concerning his promise. He is coming. But what is holding Christ back is that he is longsuffering to us-ward, not willing that any of us should perish, but that all should come to repentance.

Now the pronoun us-ward references back to the 'Beloved' of verse 8, so that God is not willing that any of his beloved should perish, those whom he chose in Christ, but is holding Christ's coming back till the appointed time when all those chosen in him shall have been brought in.

So see there, left in context, this scripture does not teach what Arminians think that it does.

So, once again, I have explained these things and again, Arminians and heretics have rejected this.

Tagged by @epselion

Because tag memes are an addiction for them XD

1. Post the rules 2. Answer the questions given to you by the tagger 3. Write 11 questions of your own 4. And tag 11 people

1. If you could only eat one more thing for the rest of your life, what would it be?

How broad are we being? Because a part of me is flat-out ready to say ‘Food’ XD Probably pizza? It covers quite a variety of potential meals without being as broad-to-the-point-of-cheating as, like, pasta or something. 

2. You can change one thing about the world/universe, what is it you would add or remove?

Oooooh, this is tough. A big part of me wants to add magic. Like, give everyone magic powers - everyone gets a power. I dunno what but they’ll get one... But honesty, as much as I’d love magic... I’m probably gonna remove the concept of unkindness/cruelty or something like that. There’s so much about humanity I hate man. Racism, sexism, assholes, incels...

3. Is there a song you have a deep association with?

Lots of Icon For Hire songs really resonate with me. Particuarly ‘The Grey’ at the moment. It’s about knowing that what you’re doing isn’t good for you but being held back from changing by fear. Under all your excuses of not knowing how really you’re stopping yourself.  In a similar vein there’s their song ‘Iodine’ which is a similar theme specifically about mental health and how it becomes so much a part of your identity that you don’t know how to let go. Also ‘Fight’, which seems to counter these and say ‘I can do this, and I will.)

4. If you had to use a Shakespearian quote to describe yourself, what would it be? Catch me googling Shakespeare quotes XD As an honerable mention I want to point out that  ‘Some are born great, some achieve greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them.’ is not a serious quote. It’s a dick joke. He’s talking about his penis. And thrusting it upon people. XD Please noone ever use this quote to describe yourself. XD (Unless you’re defined by dick thrusting or the reception thereof) ‘Lord what fools these mortals be’ is relatable AF but not quite the question. "Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin, as self-neglecting." is something I need to take on board more  I’d probably go with "Our doubts are traitors, And make us lose the good we oft might win, By fearing to attempt."

5. If you could take a trip to an imaginary destination from any book you read, where would you be going?

Honestly, if I’m going for a trip probably Narnia? I love forests that I can wander through. The problem I always face with questions like this is ‘What is my status there?’ Like Hogwarts? Great, you’re a muggle, have fun in the run down castle. (I will,, ruins are my jam, but that’s beside the point). Westeros? You’re a peasant, good luck. So as I am? It’s gotta be some place pretty with not a lot of city-scape.

6. Do you have any weird food combo that is ungodly but so good?

Honest to go this sounds gross but is so good. Chicken Korma sauce and chicken, on Chow Mein noodles, wrapped in one of those rice-pancakes for duck.  Oriental all-you-can-eat buffets are great for it XD

7. If you could learn one artisan skill, what would it be?

I’m not sure I’m using this phrase right but I looked it up and from what I saw I’d say making clothes. I think it’d be nice to just be able to put together what I want to wear instead of going shop-to-shop and finding something close enough but not quite right and settling for it. 

8. What is the ultimate forbidden snack?

Tide pods

9. Which D&D race would you probably be if you were a player character, and what alignment?

I’m assuming this is if I could choose. I’d probably go for an elf of some sort (probably a healer, not that you asked) and Chaotic Good or Chaotic Neutral depending on how we’re defining it. Based on standard morals Neutral, based on for-others/equal/for-yourself Good, because I’ll do shitty things for the benefit of people, 

10. What animal/creature would be your witch familiar?

I’m gonna be hella vanilla here and say a cat, though anything large enough to pet and hug is a yes from me. Even if it’s generally not huggable, like a crocodile or smth. It’s my familiar and I’m gon’ hug it. 

11. Do you look up to someone, either a character or a real person, and why?

I look up to a lot of people actually; My mum is the main one, she tries so hard to put the family before herself. (Not other people so much, but she was certainly my rolemodel growing up. And she’s still the standard I hold for what a parent SHOULD be and not many measure up.  Ummm... My friend Hawke is another one; They’s so on-point with social justice stuff and they always have the patience to deal with my ignorant ass and my constant ‘but why’s XD I aspire to that level of understanding, both knowledge-wise and compassion-wise. 

Ok, my questions are 1. What supernatural race/species/etc. would you like to be and why 2. Favorite book series and why 3. Favorite TV show and why 4. Top Pokémon, nickname (if you’d use them), why you like them, and contest or battle  5. Starwars Prequal Trilogy, Original Trilogy, or Sequal Trilogy? (If you don’t watch/care tell me about a hot celeb/character you’d like to rescue you waving a magic glowing sword. With full details.) 6. Harry Potter house and why 7. Best and worst trait 8. You got black out drunk at the party. When you wake up your friend tells you that you   a. Pet like 10 dogs and cried because they were so fluffy  b. Got into like 3 fights. 4 if you include the one with yourself  c. Threw up on someone  d. All of the above  e. All of the above, and kept partying 9. In a dream world, your ideal job would be 10. 3 wishes. (You can’t wish for world peace or any global goals. Personal wishes(can wish for friends/family)) 11. You can have the powers of ONE super hero/villian. Who and why I’m gonna taaaaag @themightyblim @theonlyrufus @oswobblepot @childofvanaheim @justaseasaltyselkie   ... I think that’s all my friends XD

Perdere per Vincere

                                                   LOSING TO WIN

F: What had I done to myself. This was hell. First was the high heels. She knew what they did to me. The click against our marble floors drove me insane with lust, the fact which I tried and failed to hide. She was not going anywhere, she did not even walk past me, just around the house straightening and tidying things. Somehow she managed to slip the title ‘Doctor’ into our conversations casually and seamlessly, resulting in me shifting in my chair in attempts to hide my evident enjoyment of hearing the word roll off her tongue.

Next was the lingerie. All night. She was sleeping in it now, normally it would have come off and landed on the floor long before we both fell asleep. The hurt and frustration of our morning argument had faded and now only this game I had started remained. She would slip into bed in the most elaborate lace lingerie, garter belt and all. Then feigning ignorance to my suffering she would snuggle against me, the lace scratching softly at my bare skin and kiss my jaw before falling soundly asleep. During the day she would settle herself casually in my lap while wearing the most dainty and delicate silk slips, and I would find myself aching for a higher being to remove me from my consciousness. The third night I rolled myself onto my stomach and tried half heartedly to suffocate myself in her pillow when I saw her select the white number I had purchased for her (but mostly myself) at a very high end boutique. No such luck in my attempt to remove myself from this infernal temptation. If I made the first move I would lose, but how was I winning now? This sure felt like losing. Well if she was going to play dirty so was I.

Though it wounds my pride to admit, I do not have many “moves”. I figured I would use what makes me feel most confident, she had told me repeatedly that she cannot keep her hands off me when I am confident. I knew right away what would do it. The blue suit. The blue suit with the white dress shirt. As she was nursing Atlas I snuck away to our closet and put it on. Complete with the cologne and hair gel, even I was having a hard time keeping my hands off myself. I turned a few times admiring myself in the mirror before striding out into our bedroom to wait for her. I figured standing was best, I had a few thoughts about lounging on the bed but that could be misconstrued as me giving up. I was not giving up.

R: I laid Atlas’s sleeping body carefully into his crib before sneaking out of the room in efforts not to wake him. The poor darling had been fussy all day. I really needed a nap. Preferably with my husband. I was ready to stop the torture, it had been fun for a while but he had grown so hesitant with his touches not wanting to lose our game. I was ready for it to be over, ready for him to hold me again without hinderance.

What a sight, I couldn’t remember the last time I saw him this…well I had never seen him with so many buttons undone on his dress shirt. There he stood gazing out our bedroom window with his hands in his pockets. The warm light of the descending sun created a golden halo around his silhouette. He looked positively holy. I needed to lose. I needed to lose right now.

“Freddy…Atlas is asleep.” I spoke into the quiet room as he turned his gaze to me.

We stared at each other for a few seconds before he strode towards me with such a cocky confidence I almost rolled my eyes. Frederick came to a halt only a few inches in front of me and breathed his next sentence hotly into the air.

“Are you done playing?” I could feel his breath on my forehead as I slowly flicked my eyes up to meet his.

“Yes.” I barely whispered trying hard not to reach out for him.

He lifted his hands to my neck and cheek before pressing his lips to the underside of my jaw with a little growl.

“You do not sound very sure.” He sucked on the skin of my throat causing me to release an ungodly sound.

His hands wandered, teasing all the spots he knew made me squirm and mewl. Damn his hands. Frederick pulled me hard against him then and the sudden proximity proved that I wasn’t the only one all hot and bothered.

“I’m sure Freddy.”

He didn’t even take the time to smirk or make a smarmy retort. Frederick lifted me around him and enveloped me in a series of deep kisses and touches. He nearly tossed me onto the bed in his desperation. Frederick began to remove his suit but I placed a quick hand on his shoulder and breathlessly muttered, “Keep it on.”

He groaned with an open mouth, his whole face lighting up with pride before he resumed what we had started. His kisses became longer and longer, deeper and deeper leaving me gasping for air that I wasn’t sure I wanted. I never wanted him to stop, not the motion of his hips, the kisses, his little moans and whimpers that drove me absolutely wild. Gold shimmers and sparks surrounded and infiltrated my senses down to my marrow, soon consuming me in a slow burning blaze of euphoria.

F: I collapsed, completely sated, on top of her. She wrapped her arms around me and relaxed her thighs that had come to vise my sides. It was not long before I felt her fingers scratching at my scalp just the way I liked. I moaned softly as I felt my muscles release all tension and melt against the tenderness of her touch. I was lulled into a trancelike state by the cadence of her breath, heavy at first and then deeper and slower.

“Freddy…”

“Mmm?” I moaned at her still experiencing the high of our passion.

“You were right. I promised…a year.” Her voice was sure but off slightly from her normal tone.

“Is something wrong?” I lifted myself off of her and fell to her side so I could look her in the eyes as she spoke.

“No…well…I…” Rarely was she at a fault for words.

“My love, you can tell me anything. Please, tell me what is bothering you.” I coaxed despite being in the process of catching my breath.

“I’m not sure how to do any of this Freddy, how to be a wife, a mother. So much has changed, and it’s like part of me…part of me never caught up.” Her voice broke a little towards the end and I raised my hands to cup her face before giving her a delicate kiss.  

“You are more than I could have ever asked for. You are a caring and loving mother and the most intelligent and devoted wife.”

“I just feel like I’m not doing enough, for you or for Atlas. And I have no idea what to do baby.”

“Hey…hey…you take care of us, both of us. I nor Atlas would be here without you. All you have to do is keep loving us, love us…that is more than enough.” I kissed her forehead and pulled her into me as she nodded and sobbed into my chest.

My heart broke as I realized this had been plaguing her for so long. No wonder she had wanted to begin work early, she simply wanted to feel the satisfaction of doing a job she knew she was great at. I should not have taken it so personally, despite it feeling personal at the time. I loved her with such a fervor it burned through my synapses like wildfire. She was fearful of change, as was I. I had been dreading the ever advancing deadline of our domestic bliss.

I had meant what I said when we argued. I felt like I was losing her, like I would never get her back. It was an emotion and thought borne of the shell that remained from my previous cane carrying self. I was not that man anymore, and she had told me that I would never have to be that man again. She had loved that man, and that love was the catalyst for his rebirth into who I never realized I could be.

Just a digression from our usual drabbles, I want to let everyone know that even if you’re not crazy active on these posts I still could not be more grateful for you. I also want to let you all know that you can message me anytime about anything at all, even if it’s just to say hi. I love all of you dearly and I am so thankful for your support and love. 

-Lena