#i guess this id why i spend most of my time drowning in games or playing online

[naes-dairy]

Life is up and down and sometimes I can't even post about it

#i cant even think about it #honestly #really draining #i guess this id why i spend most of my time drowning in games or playing online #even then what can i do

[elsewhereuniversity]

The scholarship letter came in the normal mail. I don’t know why that felt weird to me; I mean, what else I was expecting? An owl? This wasn’t Harry Potter. It wasn’t the most generous offer I’d gotten, but I liked the look of the campus from the brochure. When I went on the tour, it felt like coming home.

Even the iron washer on a lanyard felt familiar. I didn’t take it off, even at home.

—

“Yeah Mom, you have to put my student ID number on my mail instead of my name. Yeah, some weird thing with their sorting system. Can you make sure Grandma knows too? Th- I appreciate it. Love you too.”

—

“Honestly, they charge us so much for the meal plan, I don’t feel bad for nicking the creamers and salt packets from the dining hall. Anyway, I just love the rhythm of old superstitions, so it’s nice that the attendants look the other way anyway.”

—

“Practicing my poetry for the crows just feels right, you know? I’ve always liked being outside and if the crows judge, at least they usually don’t tell me that my meter is off even when it’s not, Dave from ENG 202. Plus, I shine some pennies up with that vinegar and salt trick and they like when I offer those up.”

—

“Revels? You mean like… frat parties? Yeah, I’ve been to a few. They were fun, but not a lot like college in the movies.” A pause to laugh. “Yeah, people here do shit like actually dance, like with steps and everything. And some of the makeup games around here are so on point, I’m pretty sure the theater effects department is getting their friends to sit for experiments and then sending them to the revels. Seriously, the scales on that one kid were so realistic. Oh yeah, I do have a couple of salt packets, forgot those were even in my pockets. Why, do you need some?”

—

“Don’t walk by that tree after dark, the one on the hill… I don’t know, it just spooks me. I think some creep hangs out there or something, because it always feels like someone’s watching me when there’s shadows… It’s just basic campus safety, since the streetlights there are always burnt out. No need to bring magic into it.”

—

I stared at the speckled grey and white fur in the back of my roommate’s side of the closet where I had been digging for the shoes I’d lent her for the Spring Revel. Her new boyfriend had seemed familiar in a way that tasted like salt on the back of my tongue. Now I guess I knew why.

“Don’t admit to knowing,” my Nana had said when I called to tell her where I was going to school. She never had to be reminded to call me by my safe name and all of her care packages were littered with iron nails. But I couldn’t just turn away from the way my heart called out to this.

Carefully, I slid the skin into a plastic bag and then into my backpack, wincing a little at the indignity. I didn’t want him to have to run around campus with it in his arms though. Rubix had just complained this morning about Harbor spending most of today in the library, so at least I knew where to head.

It didn’t take long to spot Harbor, in a corner table, surrounded by a few members of the swim team with his head in his hands.

“-have to drop off the team, I can’t get in the pool anymore without-” He broke off as I slid into the seat across from him.

“Hey, Harbor. I think you dropped your coat the last time you were in our room,” I told him lightly, pulling the plastic bag out of my backpack. The eyes of every swim team member there widened in a way that would have been comical if I hadn’t known why. “Rubix was busy, so I thought I’d return it to you.”

Harbor’s hands were shaky as he slid the bag towards him and into his lap. “What do I owe-”

I waved a hand, smiling at the group. “Oh, it’s fine, I’m not asking anything for this. After all, it’s not such a big deal to return things for your roommate’s ex.”

The smiles that went around the table were sharp, and they stood almost as one to leave. A hand on Harbor’s arm stopped him and he turned back with eyebrows raised.

“I don’t Know anything, of course, but-” I hesitated. “An uncommon number of people in my family have drowned, but the sea feels more like home than anything.”

Harbor nodded, his freckled face splitting in a smile. “You’re always welcome at swim team practices, or at our parties.” His tone shifted so it was carefully bland and casual. “It’s so odd, but whatever EU uses to clean the pool tastes just like salt.”

I returned his smile and let go of his arm so he could run after his friends. When I came home to an empty room that night, I remembered the feel of my Nana’s fur coat (still in her own possession, unlike some of my other ancestors) and wondered if I had any cousins on the swim team.

x

#queenofthequillandink #stories #long post #selkies #love this! #love how natural the narrator's voice is #how everything is communicated perfectly well #without ever explicitly being said #legacies #submission

[maxineswritingcenter]

You Saved Me - Derek Hale x fem!reader part 24

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

2004 

“We lay to rest a beloved member of the community. A mother. A friend. A daughter. A wife. Claudia Stilinski...” We stood on the lawn of Beacon Hills Memorial Cemetery, watching Aunt Claudia’s casket being lowered into the ground. She had been sick for so long and it was starting to turn ugly... But she was in a better place now, that’s what Uncle Noah said. When he spoke at least. I looked past the grieving people, like Ms. McCall, Scott, the entire police department, and looked at Stiles. He looked so tired. His cheeks were tear stained and his eyes were red from crying. 

Once people started to disperse, my parents and I made our way over to Uncle Noah and Stiles. While the adults talked, Stiles and I just continued to stare at the grave. The grounds keepers were starting to cover her body with dirt. 

“Do you want me to spend the night tonight?” I whispered, reaching over and holding his hand. 

Stiles shook his head, chewing on the inside of his cheek, “I want to be alone tonight.” He gave my hand a squeeze.

“Wouldn’t tonight be the worst time to be alone?” 

“I just want to be at home with my dad. I need some time for myself.” 

“(Y/N).” We both turned at my father’s voice, “Let’s go, sweetie.” We both looked back at the grave.

“Okay. Well, call if you change your mind.” I gave his hand a squeeze before letting it slip away. 

We got into the car, making our way back home. 

“How you holding up, sweetie?” Mom turned back and looked at me over the sink. 

“I don’t want to be alone tonight.” I said, looking out the window.

“Well, you don’t have to.” Dad said, “We’ll get into our pjs and watch Disney movies. You know how much Aunt Claudia loved Disney movies.” 

I swallowed thickly, “Actually... I was hoping that I could go to see the Hales. If that’s okay.” Dad sighed loudly and mom smacked him subtly. 

“Sure, baby.” Mom said, a sad smile on her face, “I’ll call Talia when we get home.” 

-

When I was dropped off at the Hales’, Talia welcomed me with open arms, a blanket, and a hot chocolate. I guess what I needed was away from the whole situation. We played games, Laura braided my hair, we made friendship bracelets. At the end of the night, Laura and Cora had fallen asleep to the movie we had been watching and Derek had snuck us both onto the roof of the Hale house. We were on our back, looking up at all the stars in the sky and the moon shining down on us. We had been in silence for a while until Derek cleared his throat awkwardly. 

“So, uh, are you excited for high school next year?” 

I sighed and shook my head, “After today? I don’t think I’ll be ready for anything.”

“Yeah...” He turned on his side to face me, “I’m sorry about your aunt. I know she was important to you.” 

“Thanks...” I turned, “I guess I’m just kinda worried about everything. I don’t know what life is going to be like without her. And I’m worried about Stiles too.” 

“I bet. I don’t know what I would do if I lost my mom.” He said. Then, he reached out and grabbed my hand, “Whenever you feel like this again, let me know. You can come over and we can do this again. Whatever you need, I’ll be there.” 

I smiled, a slight blush to my cheeks that I really hoped was hidden in the dark, “Thanks, Derek.” 

“Of course.” He smiled, “It’s what friends do.” 

-

The communication with Beacon Hills was slim to none. And, ya know, that didn’t feel great. I understood that everyone was busy living their lives whether it was being a high school student or fighting supernatural beings or being a supernatural being or the sheriff in a town full of both. But unanswered texts and calls were starting to get to me. 

The ones I got weren’t great either though. Stiles occasionally sent me a long email about the events that had happened since long distance calls weren’t in the phone plan. 

I had learned more about the alpha pack - a blind one, a woman who could definitely use a manicure, a strong man, and twins who could morph into each other. I was almost a little happy I didn’t have to deal with that. 

All the betas were missing except Isaac who had stayed behind. Even if he did get in trouble every now and then. 

And then missing turned into dead. Hearing that Erica was dead really hit me hard. I barely knew the girl, a few moments and quick chats usually didn’t mean that much. But they found her locked in a closet, rotting. It was horrifying. She was a child. She was finally enjoying her life - a new life without seizures and bullying, her parents had taken her to get pictures taken; happy to see that their little girl loved herself for the first time. Now she was gone. 

They found Boyd alive, thankfully. And surprisingly, they had found Derek’s sister: Cora. 

Not forgetting that there were flocks of animals committing mass suicide and kids turning up murdered. It seems home is getting more and more dangerous. Not only was there an alpha pack but there was a creature called a Darach, a dark druid. 

The leader of the alpha pack, Deucalion, was trying to get Derek to join his pack. He also wanted me to join as well, apparently he had been asking where I was. To join, he would have to kill the betas. Derek, who I’m sure was done being manipulated, refused. To keep him safe, Derek kicked Isaac out of the depot to live with Scott. 

Speaking of dead...

Even thousands of miles away, the vision of falling three stories still hurt as much as if I was actually there. A battle between the alphas, Derek and Scott. And honestly, I wasn’t sure if Derek was alive or dead. Every little message I thought to him just echoed in my head. I had cried, tried forcing myself to work through it. But nothing really worked. I still woke up in the middle of the night, naked on the castle grounds having shifted my feelings or else I was instinctually trying to search for him. First it was anger, next it was denial, then more anger. And that was all just last night. 

Hell, not even forgetting to mention the fact that the test Lachlan ran on me was a little more than just a blood panel. They checked for human chorionic gonadotropin hormone aka the pregnancy hormone. And things were just getting better and better. Because it was positive. I am pregnant. And the father may be dead. 

-

Sending a preemptive long distance fee to Stiles’ PayPal account, I called the house phone. It didn’t have caller ID but it was something. Michael didn’t think it was a good idea, however, it was gonna be a cold day in Hell before I listened to his double agent ass. Lachlan thought I deserved closure. And I trusted him more. 

“Stilinski residence.” Stiles’ voice was a little scratchy, but still loud and clear. 

“Stiles, if you hang up on me I swear you will live to regret it. I still have access to your secret YouTube channel.” There was a pause on the other end, then a sigh. 

“Hey (Y/N). I was wondering why I got an email from my PayPal."

 "Is there a reason I've been on everyone's pay no mind list? Because it's starting to piss me off."

"Well... Derek said that we shouldn't worry about or get you stressed out."

"So not talking to me for months is supposed to help?" I raised my eyebrows.

"Uh... Ya got me there."

I groaned and started tapping my foot, "I just...." My mind seemed to go blank, my heart rate going up. That's not right. I wasn't doing anything to make it spike like this.

"I know, I know. And I'm sorry, I wish I could contact you more. But there's a lot going on here with the alpha pack and Lydia and-and Derek-"

"Shit." I wheezed, sitting down on the bed. My body felt so warm and not in the way it normally would.

"Yeah I know, it's a lot right now-" His voice was drowned out by my senses taking over. It was the familiar warmth of intimacy. But not from me. It was Derek! He was alive. But he was with someone. And that someone-

He was kissing her. Touching her. His heart racing. Her touch set his skin ablaze and nothing else mattered. Not even the wounds on his body that nearly killed him. But all that mattered was her intoxicating touch. The touch of a woman he didn’t know. But her whole being enveloped him.  

I screamed loudly in anger, but behind that anger was so much pain. My chest ached and felt like it was being pulled across the world. I dropped the phone, holding my chest.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N)! What's wrong?!" My breathing was erratic and my thoughts were going wild between what had just happened and what I was thinking and what I had to do from here. I felt so helpless and alone. What could I do?

Then... There was an answer. Maybe it was the stress? Maybe it was my raging hormones? But I had my answer.

I picked the phone back up.

"(Y/N)! Talk to me, what's going on?"

I inhaled and exhaled deeply, "Derek’s alive."

"He is?"

"But not for long." I hung up.

How dare he? HOW COULD HE? AFTER EVERYTHING WE HAVE BEEN THROUGH OUR ENTIRE LIVES AND HE JUST- JUST THROWS IT ALL OUT? And for what? Who could have been more important than me? I'm his stupid mate for Christ's sake.

But if he wants to sleep around?

Fine.

Fine.

He could for the next thirteen hours. Because I'm going back to Beacon Hills for the soul purpose of ripping his heart out like he did mine. And if this emotional trauma affected my child? Well, there were repercussions for that too.

-

Michael and Lachlan were in my room, watching me as I threw together a bag to take on the plane. Remarkably, as a member of the Lunar Circle I would get free airfare courtesy of Lachlan mostly because the guy was insanely rich and he agreed with my revenge plot, for the most part.

"Okay, let's think rationally here." Michael said, taking things out of my bag as I was putting them in, "He's a total douche bag for doing this. We all agree. But in your state, I don't think you should fly. I mean anything could happen."

"I can fly until I'm thirty-six weeks along." I said curtly, grabbing my things out of his hands and putting them back in the bag.

"Come on, think about what you're doing-"

"I have thought about it. And I'm going to kill him."

Michael looked back at Lachlan who had his arms crossed over my chest, only observing.

"A little help here, Praetor McLeod?"

Lachlan shrugged, "Seems justified to me."

"Murder? Murder seems justified to you." He asked incredulously.

"It's the werewolf way." Lachlan said simply.

"Thank you, Lachlan." I smiled.

"Anytime."

"Okay, what about this?" Michael stood in front of my path to my bag, "Murdering him seems like a great idea right now, I totally get it. But-but if you do that, it will weigh heavily on your conscience."

"The Lunar Circle has excellent insurance, including therapy." Lachlan chimed in.

I moved Michael out of the way, "Duly noted."

Michael sputtered, "And-and your baby? What about your baby? That's their dad."

"Their dad who decided to stick his penis in another woman." I raised my eyebrows at him, "That one? Yeah, what a stand up guy."

“But you love him. Don’t you think killing him-”

“Michael!” I slammed my suitcase shut, “Shut up.” I turned and faced both of them, “You’re right, okay? I do love him, which is the worst part. I hate him so much but I still love him. I dedicated my life to him and I thought he had dedicated himself to me. I was wrong.” I zipped the bag and made my way out the door, “I’ll be back at the end of the week.”

-

Getting on the plane didn’t take long. Relatively short lines, quick ticket, fast boarding. Like someone was looking out for me as I went to kick Derek's ass. Becoming alpha to Derek's pack was starting to sound better and better as the pain continued to radiate through my body. Eventually, I just felt numb.

The people on the plane were nice. I sat next to an older gentleman who slept for the most part so I could whisper profanities under my breath. The stewardess had been kind, making sure I had enough to drink. It seems someone had tipped them off I was pregnant, probably Michael. The guy had been a nervous wreck since he found out I was pregnant. He wouldn’t even let me train, not like he had much of a choice in what I did. But he sure knew how to annoy me out of a room. Lachlan had been supportive, talking about adding an additional room onto mine for a nursery. I told that it wasn’t necessary since I wouldn’t be staying in Scotland that long. 

After the plane landed, I was met by a very tired looking Stiles. We didn’t speak much, just began the drive back home. 

"So...." He swallowed, his eyes darted from me to the road ahead, "Pregnant," He chuckled nervously, "That-that's great! I'm so happy for you.” He tapped his fingers against the steering wheel. He was hesitating, he wanted to say something else, “Uh...Speaking of-” I groaned loudly, another lecture. 

He ignored my dramatics, “Maybe you shouldn't kill him. That's not good for the baby..." 

“It wasn’t good for the baby when he decided to take our bond, step on it and rub it in the dirt.” He was silent, but not for long.

"Yeah-but you see we kinda need Derek to help with some big bads. Like Deucalion and the Darach and ya know, other stuff." 

"I remember you telling me about it. I tried to do some research but Lachlan said that we didn’t have too much information on them.” 

“Well that’s not too helpful.” 

-

We made it back to the house at sunset, which was perfect timing. The cover of night would be great to conceal me in the dark. Sure, he would smell my scent but he would have no idea where I was coming from. I pulled on the handle on the door but stared at it when it didn’t budge. Still locked. I looked back at Stiles. He looked tired, a wreck.

“Would you just... See dad before you cover yourself in blood? He was really excited to hear you were coming home.” Like he always seemed to be, Stiles’ was right. I should see Uncle Noah. 

“I will. I need to rest anyway. Besides, I can’t kill him on an empty stomach.” I winked.

“You terrify me.” He unlocked the doors. We got out just in time for Uncle Noah to jog down the driveway. 

“There she is!” He grinned, wrapping his arms around me and hugging me tight. 

“I missed you so much.” I said into his shirt, giving him a soft squeeze. He pulled away and looked over me, “Look at you.” He motioned to my stomach that looked more like I was bloated than a fetus growing inside of me, “This-this is... Mhm. Exciting!” 

I chuckled, “Thanks. Very mhm.” 

“Uh, you hungry?” 

“Starving.”

-

Dinner had been extremely awkward, the conversation mostly coming back to the child growing inside of me. Lots of questions from both of them. Mostly how I hadn't called. In actuality I had called approximately twenty times a day with no answer from anyone per Derek's request. Unfortunately for him, his requests were now being put on the back burner. I excused myself to my room.

My room was kept the same, I'm certain no one had been inside besides Uncle Noah. And from the ruffled blankets, maybe Stiles. Back when we were kids, we used to sneak scary movies and had to sleep in a huddled pile because we were too scared to sleep by ourselves. 

I grabbed a jacket and opened up my window, I was half way out of it when my door opened. Stiles stood in the doorway. We stared at each other for a minute. 

“I may regret saying this one day because I don’t care for Derek, but don’t kill him.” He said, “Kick the living shit out of him, sure. Get in a few punches for me. But don’t kill him. We need him.” Of course, all it took was Stiles to talk me off the murder-ledge. 

“I won’t kill him.” I smiled, “I’ll be home soon.”

-

Odds are, with the alpha pack threat Derek will have the depot protected. What he failed to remember was that the most dangerous being in the world had a key to every place in the depot. I simply walked in the front door. Almost like he was expecting me.

His scent was so strong, like the forest after it rained. It made this ball of emotion well up in my chest bringing me back to all the love and memories we had shared together. Not all the memories were life and death. They weren't all fights. Some days, Derek and I would curl up and bed and never leave, only grabbing food here and there. His smile would light up his whole face, sometimes it would even reach his green eyes and make them sparkle. When he would nap, he would lay his head on my chest and sleep, like he was finally at peace with himself and the world. That was the person I loved. 

I walked through the main room at the depot, getting to the stairs. The worst part here was the pictures, us together, the pack. I want to make the depot less abandoned and more homey for the betas to have a place to go and relax. Some of the pictures had turned heads at the photo developing counter (but I had managed to convince them that it was for a theater class). The worst part was that on my way here Boyd had been killed. If only I had been here soon, if only I had been here at all. Only two of the pack remained, Isaac and Jackson who was no longer a killer lizard thanks to Lydia. Say what you will about Peter Hale but sometimes he knew what he was talking about.  

If Derek knew I was here, he hadn’t tried to make a move. Smart. 

After wandering a bit, I finally decided to face the music. I found him hunched over his desk in the main office room. Rain was dancing against the fluorescent lights from the street lamps down below. He hadn’t looked up at me the whole time that I walked up to him. He felt defeat and alone. He had lost everything. He was looking down at his desk, his hands laced together. He looked up slightly, more looking at my shirt than my face. 

“I...” His voice was soft and quiet, something unlike the loud, booming man I was used to, “I messed up.” 

“Yeah, you did.” It was silent for a moment, then he spoke again. 

“Who’s with you?” He asked, his eyes scanning the room. 

I narrowed my eyes at him, “No one.” 

“Then why do I hear another heart-” His eyes widened. He stared directly at my stomach. I thought I almost saw his ears perk up. 

“Are you...”

“I am. I’m having a baby. Emphasis on the ‘I’m’.” I really hadn’t wanted to do much talking, I really hadn’t planned on saying anything besides obscenities and screaming at him. He stood up from the desk and quickly came around, he reached his hand out towards my stomach but I smacked it away. 

“You have no right to touch me. Especially when I can still smell her stench on you.” I scrunched up my nose and sneered. 

“Look,” He licked his lips, “I can’t give you a good answer or an excuse-”

“Good, because I don’t want one.” I glared. 

He looked at me a moment then continued, “I don’t know why I did what I did. Something just came over me. Please tell me you believe me.” He put his hand on my shoulder. 

He really should have taken a lesson out of his own book. With amazing speed, I grabbed him by the throat and threw him across the room. When he landed, my features shifted and my eyes glowed red. He groaned, holding at his waist. That’s where he had been injured in the alpha fight, it had healed but it was still sore. 

“I don’t want your apologies.” I growled, walking towards him, “I want you to feel what I felt. The pain and the suffering. The violation...” I chuckled darkly, “You know that I felt her hands on you? Touching the most private parts of your body that only I was supposed to feel. Do you know how disgusting I felt afterwards? I felt used and dirty and it wasn’t even my body.” I stepped on his chest with my boot to keep him down on the ground. He still wasn’t looking at me. I snarled, grabbing him by his shirt and shoving him against the concrete pillar he landed on. 

“Look at me!” I roared, “You broke me into a million little pieces. You didn’t answer my calls.” I punched him. 

“You kept me hidden in the dark about Erica’s death.” I hit him again. 

“You wouldn’t let my family communicate with me and when they did they couldn’t even tell me everything that was going on. I was begging to hear from someone, anyone, I was all alone!” I threw him across the room. 

“You blocked my number two months ago.” I stalked over to him, ignoring the tears running down my face, “I couldn’t even hear your voice on your goddamn voicemail!” I got down on my knees and grabbed his chin so that his eyes met mine. 

“LOOK AT ME!” I screamed, “Look what you did to me! For months you’ve been using our bond for your own strength, strength that used used to heal and have sex with another woman!” My voice was starting to crack as all the things I had thought about were coming out, “See how much my heart broke when I felt how happy you were with someone other than me.” He was finally looking at me. The worst thing though was that his eyes were full of so much love for me, that special twinkle that Peter said only happened when he looked at me. I wasn’t angry anymore, I was devastated. 

“I came here to kill you.” I sniffled, my features shifting back to normal, “I wanted to tear your heart out. But I can’t... I can’t because I love you and I don’t want to hurt you anymore. I shouldn’t have hurt you, but I want to because of what you did.” As the anger fogged cleared, I realized that I was just as bad as he was. 

“You had every right to hurt me-”

“No, I didn’t. I shouldn’t have hurt you. I’m sorry.” I looked down at my hands, “I felt so out of control. I thought I was getting better at it.” 

“You were.” Derek sat up slowly, “It’s the baby. All of your emotions are going to be heightened. More than usual.” 

“It doesn’t matter.” I made my way towards the exit, not caring that he was calling after me, running to catch up to me. I just left him there. Even when I got home and he tried to get into my window, I just ignored his pleading. What I did wasn’t right, I shouldn’t have hit him or punched him. I was just so angry and that anger clouded my vision. 

Weren’t we a pair - one cheats and the other goes into a blind rage. Perfect. 

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

Please comment below or message me to be added to the taglist!

Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

YSM Tag:

Read part 25 here!

@nyotamalfoy

@fruitloopzzz

@babygirl-angel-love

@aestheticeggs

@akuri-shinsou

@geli2297

@coruscaret

@oh-my-gosh-everything-is-taken

@bellabadacadabra

#derek hale x reader #derek hale fic #teen wolf fic #teen wolf x reader

[steve0discusses]

Yugioh S3 Ep 36-37: Local Mom-Friend’s Weird Trick, Doctors Hate Him

Hey y’all it’s a surprise midweek post because I’m in Canada this weekend woo. Surprised I even got this post done, TBH, I finally get some time where I’m not commuting around to and from San Francisco or corralling small children and I can just sit at my computer and focus and have some peace and quiet and I got--a mysterious sickness from all those kids! *yay* So, since I can’t really focus on anything, I’ll type in here and see if any of my words make any sense at all and hopefully I won’t go on some weird ass tangent like I tend to do like every other post.

So Yugi is still dueling Kaiba, much like he has for the past like...it feels like 4 years. I know I’ve only seen 3 seasons but this is...this is a really long duel. Maybe because there was a month-long break for me in the middle, (during which I watched the entirety of Evangelion, 2 Seasons of Gotham, Stranger Things S3, and the disappointing season of One Punch Man so like...I’ve had some time away from Yugioh) or maybe...maybe it’s because they’re actually playing card mechanics that go more in depth...

But yeah, despite everything, they’re still dueling.

And honestly, I’m looking at that episode number above me and it’s like...so there’s this Kaiba and Yugi Duel and then...only one more duel, right? Is it going to be a ten episode duel? Like unless Rebecca comes back for a weird cameo like...how...?

Whatever, we’ll get there when we get there.

Anyways, everyone who’s been avoiding this duel like the plague is down with the plague victims in the hospital. That’s where Tristan gets a bright idea and it’s one of his dumber ones, believe it or not.

Man, I forgot that comatose Joey Wheeler is still wearing that duel disk Pharaoh slapped on him during all this too, haha.

Also, why does he have to have all these pectoral suction cups while they just kinda...gave up on Mai? I mean I know they can’t show boobies on a Y7 show but like...it really feels like the doctor just kinda shrugged at Mai and was like “I only have one set of boob suction cups, I really didn’t think I’d need more than that, if at all.”

(read more under the cut)

And so Tristan decides that if Joey is at the window which is like...600 ft below Yugi Muto’s duel, a duel you can’t...really see from the ground...then Joey Wheeler will arise.

I mean, it’s gonna work, it’s just also kind of laughable that Joey wasn’t able to hear any of this nonsense from the bed that is two feet away from the window.

But wtv, it’s very dramatic and Tristan gets to cry some more and feel useful I guess.

The haunted underwear mannequin plot-thread was dumped between that episode and this one, and I’m kinda bummed out that more things haven’t turned into haunted underwear mannequins.

Instead of horrific underwear mannequins, Joey’s dream has gone back to the standard fare of Joey picking on middle schoolers and wearing a much better outfit than he has for most of this show.

I will super miss Joey in a fitted suit. Like, soak it allll in horny preteens, because pretty soon, Joey Wheeler will be back in that scruffy oversized T-shirt just like...well, just like how a teenager would be. I mean there’s some REASONS Mai can’t date Joey, but the fact he has a fitted suit he refuses to ever wear is one of the top reasons right under, youknow, the fact he’d need a fake ID to ever go out with her.

It’s kind of amazing actually, how my whole life I kinda just figured this was a show of insane character designs, only to find out when I actually watch the show that there is like a ... REALLY horny line just going all the way through it.

Honestly, me trying to figure out how and when this kid’s show got so damn horny has been a very big mystery I’ve been trying to solve in the background this entire time. Like, I was told “yeah the Yugioh boys get very attractive.” and I was like “ehhhhhhhh I don’t even know what you’re talking about” but, little by little over the past 3 seasons, these animators are starting to draw these boys just waaaaaaay older than these kids actually are. I’m starting to see what people are saying. It’s still not my thing, personally, but uh yeah I can see how this spawned all that fanart now.

Anyways, speaking of, the other day a friend of mine’s sister was talking about how she, as a millennial, has been wired to love very tall skinny boys in skinny pants and very long coats with popped collars and I immediately was like “Lol are you admitting to Seto Kaiba?”

And she meant Cumberbatch Sherlock, LOLOLOLOL.

And so, back on the duel field we got Seto Kaiba, who’s a lot like Sherlock except a Sherlock who is suffering from both short term and long term memory loss. And, who does cards instead of heroin.

They probably both play violin.

Kaiba, despite having arc after arc where his little brother is his main motivation, has decided to just ditch Mokuba and it’s like...either he’s psyching Yugi out or Seto Kaiba forgot he had a brother for a little bit. He might...he might have forgotten. Mokuba is standing behind him, after all.

And so, because Joey is facing Yugi at just the right moment and at just the right time, somehow he can do his little force ability again and just do this:

Thanks, hallucination!Joey.

And out he goes, drawn like a romance anime character lol.

Anyways, he’s back to being a slob so...welcome back, wrinkle shirt, it’s been a while.

And then Joey looks around and actually said this:

“Did someone get hurt?” He asks, after being burned, electrocuted AND drowned just yesterday.

I was kinda very much hoping Tristan would deck him out.

Glad that, as predicted, the moment Mai doesn’t need to be Joey’s main motivation anymore, the moment he puts the cards away, she may as well not even exist. This show and the way they write straight romances.

Please admire the matching lace up boots on the Kaiba Corp’s Emergency Squad. This would be the most obscure Cosplay on earth but maybe the most wearable Yugioh cosplay outside of Bandit Keith because you wouldn’t need a 400 dollar wig.

And then for some reason Tea just loses her mind and has a complete breakdown. She’s been kind of a mess since Yugi walked out like 2 episodes ago, which seems kind of...I dunno, both out of character but very much in character at the same time. I mean we’re assuming they “have” a relationship it’s just never actually say that they do, so her acting like her man is dead is kinda like...it still feels like it comes out of freakin nowhere.

Anyways, Tea who is strong enough to lift this entire plane and who is, in fact, possessed by at least 2 powerful ghosts (remember Shadi did spends some time there and he did NOT like it), is now a seeping crying mess that refuses to lose any more of her hospital-prone boys.

I mean they were going to go anyway, but they let Tea pretend she had any control over that and kind of glazed over this.

Back in this game that no one else is really watching anymore, Seto Kaiba is still monologuing about his entire life story that he’s never gotten any therapy for, except for that time his evil step brother accidentally gave him therapy.

Quite upset we never see the color of Mokuba’s little tuxedo.

Course...didn’t...Noah wear a little tuxedo in that same exact shape? I mean it’s a silly headcanon but youknow...it could be a yellow tuxedo they just happened to find in the back of the closet.

And it’s at this point that Mokuba just lost his lid. I’m so used to Mokuba unconditionally supporting his crazy brother that this would have been the biggest anime betrayal of the whole series, if Mokuba had said any of this outloud (which he wisely did not).

It was like...damn Mokuba. He actually said something along the lines of “I liked you better when you were poor” and it was like. Holy cow, Mokuba. Damn.

Anyway, a bunch of card stuff happens, and Pharaoh has decided that Seto has too much anger in his heart, and that’s why he will lose. Then, Pharaoh played the card proof for how angry Seto is, and if I actually payed any attention to cards, it would have been very meaningful.

But anyways, kudos to Pharaoh on not mind-wiping Seto Kaiba this time or launching him directly off this very tall tower like he attempted to do last time. They actually played a game start to finish with eachother and nothing exploded except for every television in Domino. Progress.

and then Mokuba started crying and initially I thought...wouldn’t he have WANTED his brother to lose but then I kind of remembered oh yeah now Mokuba has to deal with this oncoming aftermath.

RIP Mokuba, I guess.

Anyway, I’m out of town for the rest of the weekend, escaping to the far North to get away from the weather. I should be back next weekend, but if I’m not, I was probably eaten by a bear. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway, if you just got here, this is a link to my Yugioh recaps in Chrono order from the beginning.

#ygo #yugioh #episode recap #photo recap #yugioh recap #S3 Ep36 #S3 Ep37 #Mokuba #Seto Kaiba #Yugi Muto #the return of the orphanage that shows up every three episodes because Seto just can't #He has to tell his life story every 3 episodes or he himself will forget #so I guess the rest of the cast just has to deal with it #Tea Gardner #Joey Wheeler #Is No longer in a Coma congrats welcome to hell #Tristan Taylor #A couple of confused Doctors #some of which are in hard hats #Mai Valentine #Who is still in the refridgerator RIP #Serenity Wheeler #Guest Appearance by Grandpa

[aliceslantern]

Serendipity, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 1

ser·en·dip·i·ty | n -- the occurrence of an unplanned fortunate discovery.

It's all fun and games until someone gets pregnant.

Modern AU, Zemyx, Ienzo is afab trans

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

Ienzo hated parties.

No; "hate" was a strong word. As an eternal introvert, parties took a lot from him, and required several days' of mental preparation. But it was not always avoidable.

And anyway, he did want to go to this party. It wasn't often a childhood friend got their own gallery show, after all. There would be art and wine and probably intellectual conversation--something as designed for Ienzo as possible other than the social interaction. He sighed. All Naminé had said about the dress code was to "wear black" and the only thing he had since his unfortunate rebellious goth phase was a slightly-too-tight turtleneck that made him acutely aware of the fact that he was not in shape.

There was no point caring about his appearance. Who did he have to impress? If he cared, he'd actually do something about the hair growing directly into his eyes.

Ienzo was early. The city streets were narrow, and he needed a parking space. He walked slowly to the door of the gallery, trying to gather himself and smile. Naminé was already inside, of course, talking to one of the curators and adjusting the tilt of the frame just slightly. A few people were milling about, picking at the crudités that had been left out. He should've been later. Easier to blend in.

Well. No point backing out now. Once she turned away from the curator, she spotted him and smiled. "You made it," she said. "I thought someone was going to have to drag you." She leaned in for a hug.

"Congratulations," he said earnestly. "I do hope everything is for sale? I'd love to support you."

She waved a hand vaguely. "I'm just so in shock, to be honest. First time I haven't had to pay to be featured anywhere, never mind possibly making a profit. It does look so odd, right? To think most of this lived behind my couch until yesterday afternoon."

"Well, it's very much deserved," he said honestly. "It's about time someone noticed your talent."

She blushed. "Do you want any wine? Any snacks? It's all offered by them, so don't be shy."

He sighed. "That would be prudent, wouldn't it?"

By the time she'd walked him over, a handful of other people had entered the gallery, all of them wanting to congratulate the artist. Alone in her flowy white dress, she looked very much like a spec in the darkness. Pretty, free, glowing from the attention.

Ienzo spent a half hour or so wandering the gallery, with its exposed brick walls. It was nice, to have the excuse not to talk. She'd done a series based on portraiture and memory, something he forgot entirely until he was looking at a (thankfully small) charcoal sketch of his own face. Naminé had a bad habit of drawing anything not nailed down, and asking permission later.

"Hey, that's you!" a man said. Ienzo looked up.

He was blonde, his undercut gelled on the top. His black shirt was wrinkled and French-tucked. Ienzo knew this person was familiar, but wasn't sure how. Small town?

"Well--yes," he said. "I forgot I consented to sharing this."

The man reached up almost to touch the sketch. "She's talented, isn't she," he said, positively glowing with pride. "Oh! I'm not a creep, I'm her brother." A wry laugh. "Demyx. Hi." He offered his hand.

"...Ienzo. Pleasure." His hands were rough, callused.

"Oh, I know," he said breezily. Then, at Ienzo's blank look, "you're her friend. She talks about you."

"I'm sorry--all the years I've known her and she's never shown me a photo of you."

He laughed. "Our family is… weird," he said slowly. "It doesn't surprise me."

"...I see," Ienzo said. He wondered if it would be rude to go get more wine. "I suppose… every family has its quirks."

He nodded once. There was something in his teal eyes that contradicted the friendliness of his expression, something sharp and aware. Something that--to his chagrin--Ienzo found fascinating. But why?

"Are there any of you?" he asked lamely.

Demyx laughed again, that awkward, staccato sound. "Yes," he said. "It's--ah, over here." He rested a hand on Ienzo's shoulder and pointed him to another painting. Ienzo wouldn't have known it was a portrait unless he was told; blue green swirls and a flash of blonde showed an abstracted version of a person. "I almost drowned when she was little," he admitted. "I think she took it to heart."

"...I see." Ienzo looked over through his bangs at this man. He saw, very quickly when Demyx thought he wasn't looking, the man give him a once-over.

Ah.

He couldn't deny that he also found him attractive, despite the man being most definitely not his type (with that hair?). It was the look in his eye. The something more. "So what do you do?" Ienzo asked.

"Well, I'm also kind of an artist," he said. "A musician."

Figured. "...I see," he said politely. Well. No matter dwelling on a passing attraction.

"But for my day job I teach," he added, wrinkling his nose. "Music. At the college."

Ienzo's eyebrows shot up. (His heart fluttered.) "You're a professor ?"

Demyx snorted. "I don't look it, right? But I can prove it." He took out a beat-up wallet and brandished a faculty ID. "Read it and weep."

"You just look so--young," Ienzo said lamely.

Demyx shrugged. "It was sort of a happy accident," he admitted. "I was finishing my master's and the guy they hired to teach theory I and guitar crapped out. They offered me the job for a semester, and, well, I guess they liked me enough to stop looking." He grinned. "I tend to thrive under the radar. Want more wine?"

Ienzo's heart was racing. "Yes. Please."

---

They ended up talking for hours. Long enough for the gallery to close, for Naminé to waggle her eyebrows at him when she saw them sitting together. Long enough for Demyx to ask him to get another drink. Ienzo wasn't sure if it were his tipsiness, but this conversation didn't exhaust him the way previous dates so often did. It wasn't until the bartender was asking for last call did he realize how late it was--that, and he was in no shape to drive home. "Oh, goodness," he said. "I'm afraid I got carried away."

"Like how?"

"Like--I came out expecting to spend two very proper hours admiring my friend's art. Here we are."

Demyx smiled. "I don't know why she was hiding you," he said. "I've had… a lot of fun."

"Me too," he said earnestly.

"Would you want to go on an actual date sometime?"

He smiled. He was tired enough not to psych himself out. "Absolutely." He sighed. "Though I'm afraid I'm in no condition to take myself home."

"You could crash at mine," Demyx suggested. Then, seeing Ienzo's expression, "on the couch! Not what I meant at all." He chuckled. "Or I can call you an Uber."

"Is it far?"

"A couple of blocks. Think you can make it?"

"I'm not that drunk--just shouldn't drive."

He followed him out of the bar. It was very late, the moon hanging high in the sky, making everything quiet and silver. Demyx slid his hand into Ienzo's. He felt a little thrill, trying to recall the last time he'd enjoyed being touched so. His own attempts at dating hadn't exactly been fortuitous. Rarely did he ever meet anyone on an app that inspired real chemistry.

"I love this time of night," Ienzo said.

"Me too," Demyx said. "Nobody has expectations--the world is asleep. So calm. I come up with my best stuff at night. It's like I can breathe."

He bobbed his head. "I do sometimes have trouble with that. The annoying grind of mundanity. Easy to lose yourself."

"Yeah." He smiled sadly. "Well, here we are. Second floor."

It was a relatively new apartment building. The stairwell smelled like Pledge and dust. When Demyx unlocked the door, a small gray cat meowed indignantly.

“That’s just Janice,” Demyx said. “Come on. Be nice,” he added to the cat.

It sniffed Ienzo’s hand and nuzzled him. Blearily, Ienzo took in the apartment. It definitely seemed to belong to a bachelor--the furniture was plain and shabby, and the “couch” was a futon. The coffee table was a pair of milk crates with a board over it. There were some band posters on the wall. Thankfully the place seemed clean. It actually had good bones; the appliances seemed relatively new, the cabinets real wood.

“I’ll get you some blankets,” Demyx said. “Bathroom’s through there if you need. I might have a new toothbrush somewhere--”

“Don’t worry about it,” Ienzo said. “I’d hate to trouble you. Really.”

He blinked wearily. “Alright. Hang tight.” He came back with two blankets and a pillow. “Wifi password’s on the router.”

“Thanks again.”

He smiled. “Of course. Hope you sleep well.”

Ienzo was too exhausted to do much more than curl up on the lumpy futon. His tipsiness was good to him, and he drifted off.

---

Ienzo woke up to gold sunlight coming in through the blinds. There was something warm by his feet; he sat up slowly and saw the cat curled at the foot of the futon.

So. This had all happened.

Ienzo rolled onto his back and watched the light play on the ceiling. It had been a long while since he’d had so much fun on a date. It felt almost… odd. He’d told himself he was too busy to date, too set in what he wanted. But honestly? If he had seen Demyx on one of his apps, he probably wouldn’t have given him a second glance.

He heard movement from the other room. The other man was still in pajamas, his hair mussed and loose around his face. “You sleep okay?”

“Like a rock--then again, I always do when I’m drunk.” He sighed. “Thanks again.”

He smiled. “Don’t mention it. Better than you trying to get yourself home. Though I have to admit, it’s rare Janice cuddles up to a guest.” He leaned over to pet the cat, giving Ienzo a peek of his (surprisingly toned?) chest under the collar of his T-shirt. “Coffee? Tea?”

“I’d hate to be any trouble--”

Demyx rolled his eyes. “Which is it?”

“Whichever you’re having, I guess.”

He was handed a mug of black coffee. “I never asked what you do,” Demyx said. “We talked about so much stuff other than our actual lives.”

“I’m a librarian,” he said. “I work mostly in the research department.”

“Do you like it?” He sat on the other end of the futon.

“I love books, and I love research,” he said honestly. “It’s the best of both of those things. Sure, sometimes I have to help certain… characters with questionable projects, but it’s worth it to have so many resources.”

He cocked his head. “What do you research?”

“What don’t I research?” Ienzo asked, with a sigh. “Whatever strikes my fancy at the moment, I suppose, but I have a soft spot for linguistics and psychology. And gothic literature, but as my father is fond of telling me, that won’t pay the bills.” He rolled his eyes. “The joys of capitalism.”

Demyx laughed. “Sounds like he’s fun at parties.”

Ienzo smiled. “Oh, incredibly,” he said sarcastically. “But he… means well. Very doting.”

“Are you two close?”

“Closer than we were when I was a child,” Ienzo admitted. “His husband came ready-made with a child, and that transition wasn’t necessarily easy.” He wasn’t sure why he was saying all this. “You are… astoundingly easy to talk to.”

“Thanks, I’ll be here all week.” He looked into his mug, the glint in his eyes becoming sad. “I don’t remember my parents much,” he said.

“Naminé never brings them up.”

“They were… not so into childrearing,” he added, with a shrug. “Especially when I got older… there’d be food in the fridge, checks in the mail, but for the most part they sort of did their own thing. They call, once every few months, to see if we’re still alive, but that’s about it."

“So you were kind of on your own,” Ienzo said.

“Eh, I try not to get too hung up on it,” Demyx said. “No point, right?”

“I suppose not.” The coffee was strong, warming the pale shadow of his mild hangover.

He drummed his fingers on the edge of the mug. “So about that date,” Demyx said. “The library’s closed on weekends, right? How about today?”

Ienzo felt his face warm. Normally he’d need more warning, more time to mentally prepare himself, and to groom. But something about Demyx’s nature made that not matter. “Sure. Why not?”

They spent most of a day wandering around town, grabbing meals when appropriate, talking. Walking around the park, talking. Ienzo didn’t know how many words he’d been holding inside until they were coming out. It felt so good to hold Demyx’s hand, or to feel it on the small of his back. Something about it was so familiar. So… comfortable.

He didn’t believe in love at first sight. And it wasn’t love, not yet; but rather an intoxicating slurry of attraction and interest. Something that could… become. Perhaps this was why when Demyx asked him if he’d like to come up for “a cup of coffee” at the end of the day, he said yes.

And to be fair, there was coffee; they just didn’t drink much of it.

Ienzo found himself making out with him on that horrible lumpy futon. He wasn’t averse to casual sex, had done it multiple times, but typically when actually dating he didn’t immediately hop into bed with that person right out of the gate. With Demyx, he was absolutely breaking all of his own rules--seeing a creative, not making an extra effort with his appearance, not taking the time to fully process things before moving forward. But oddly, the rush of this made that all not matter.

Ienzo was sitting in his lap. He wasn’t sure if this made it better or worse, but Demyx was a very good kisser, especially compared to his last failed date. Ienzo’s mind stubbornly did not wander as it was normally wont to in these situations. Demyx’s hair was deceptively soft as he tangled his hands in it. Too soon, Demyx broke away. “This isn’t too fast for you, is it?” he asked breathlessly.

“No. Not at all.”

“Good. I just… I don’t know, I don’t usually do this.”

“What, instead of taking your time seducing me?”

He giggled. “Well, kind of.”

“I don’t usually either,” Ienzo admitted, kissing his jaw, his throat. Demyx was pressing up against him, the strangeness of hardness against denim. Despite himself, he felt his heart skip, this time with an anxiety. They’d talked about so many things, but not so much about one of the most important. He took a breath; and broke another one of his rules. “I… have to tell you something.” He swallowed.

“What?” Demyx touched his face. “Are you a virgin or something?”

“No, but it… might change things?”

“You’re shaking,” Demyx said. “What is it?”

He hated that he constantly had to explain himself. “I’m… trans. Transgender?” He shut his eyes. “I wouldn’t blame you if you want to cut things where they are.”

His expression was hard to read. “Oh.”

“I should’ve said something sooner.”

His hand was so warm through Ienzo’s shirt. “No. Thanks for telling me. It doesn’t change anything. I mean. It changes things, but it doesn’t change things. You know?”

He wasn’t sure whether or not to be relieved. “Oh?”

Demyx blushed and bit his lip. “I’ve never been with… a person with those parts. I’d… kind of thought, when I didn’t feel anything between your legs… I just thought I was doing a bad job.” He laughed awkwardly.

“That’s not it at all. I have a… packer I wear, but sometimes I can’t be fussed, honestly.” He could feel his face burning. “But it isn’t… difficult, if you’d be comfortable with that.”

His hand was shaking a little; Ienzo could feel it. “I’d be willing to try.”

“I could… show you, if you like,” he said slowly, unable to make eye contact. “Some other time… or now, whichever.”

Demyx kissed him, and for a moment they were lost in each other before he broke away. “I could try now.”

His heart skipped again. “Okay.”

“Come on.”

Demyx led him deeper into the apartment. Ienzo could barely take in the details, a combination of nerves and excitement making him feel vaguely dizzy. He thought he could smell incense, clean laundry, instruments on stands, a record player. Most of his focus was on the queen-sized bed. When was the last time he felt such genuine lust during a hookup, instead of mere curiosity? It was almost unfamiliar, making him shake and quieting the ever-present noise inside of his head. Demyx kissed him again, deeply, his tongue flicking against Ienzo’s before reaching for the hem of his turtleneck. He took him in with something like reverence before leaning down to kiss his collarbone, sending a fizz through his body. Ienzo reached up to take off Demyx’s own shirt, only able to look at him for a moment before he was eased onto the bed.

His thoughts were muddy, murky, and yet he was so inside of his own body. He struggled to unbutton Demyx’s jeans and felt him working at Ienzo’s, slipping them off. The nerves returned, making him acutely aware of the dampness between his legs, the insistent throb of his clit. He wondered if he might combust, and if that would be so awful.

Demyx broke away from the kiss. “Can I see it?” he asked.

“Yes--just--”

Demyx helped him out of his underwear. He was infinitely glad he was meticulous with his own personal grooming. He had not honestly thought this day would end with him getting laid. It felt a little awkward, to part his legs. Demyx ran his hand along the inside of Ienzo’s thigh, making him shudder. “Oh,” he said softly.

“I don’t believe this is the first one you’ve seen,” he said, attempting a drollness and a coolness he did not feel. “Not at all.”

“True, but… not in real life,” Demyx admitted. “But you’re so… god, you’re beautiful.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

“Really.” He leaned down to kiss him. Ienzo tried to take off Demyx’s own underwear, his dick already straining against them.

The skin of it was warm against his palm. At least Ienzo knew he was competent at this. Demyx moaned against his shoulder.

“Before you… really go at it,” he said, with difficulty. “First tell me how to--”

A blush made him hotter. “Right. Ah--” He’d never had to explain this to any of his partners. “There’s a… little nub, the--”

“The clit?”

Thank god he knew that much. “Yes, just… that’s the most important bit.”

“Can I… can I touch you?” His expression was so tender. There was no way this was all real, Ienzo thought. There had to be a catch.

“Yes.”

He felt Demyx’s callused hand slide down his body, bringing with it a rush. After a moment where he seemed to struggle to find the nerve, he eased his hand over it, almost making Ienzo spasm. Demyx felt at it for a moment before he found the clit. “This?”

He swallowed. “That’s it. The… testosterone makes it… like that.”

“As long as I can make you feel good.” He kissed him again and began to stroke it, rolling it between his fingers. The feel of the calluses made Ienzo gasp aloud. “Is that bad?”

“No, no, it’s…” He could barely speak. “It’s very good.” With a trembling hand he fumbled to find Demyx’s dick, trying to move in rhythm with him. Hearing him struggle for breath only turned Ienzo on more. He could already feel the sensation building along his body, hot and electric. “If you want, you could… you could go inside me.”

Demyx looked up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Just--do you have a condom?”

His breath hitched. “Sure. Of course.” He dug in a bedside drawer that Ienzo honestly hadn’t noticed. He could feel his knees shaking. “Do you need lube?”

How had Demyx not felt how wet he was? “No.” Ienzo took the packet from him and eased it over his dick.

He laughed. “You might have to help me.” He guided the tip of it into him with one hand and gasped, his eyes closing. “It’s different.”

“In a bad way?”

“No.” He pressed into him a little more. “God, no. That doesn’t hurt you?”

“Doesn’t require as much preparation,” Ienzo explained. He opened his legs a little more, letting them rest against Demyx’s hips, for a moment just taking in the feel of his dick. It was more substantial than the hands or toys he’d taken over the past few months.

Demyx moaned. “You feel so good.”

“I could… say the same. Just kind of… slow and deep.”

He started to move against Ienzo. His skin was tingling, the warmth and weight of Demyx’s body combined with the thrusting bringing him again closer to that edge. The grind of Demyx’s hips brushed against Ienzo’s clit, forcing a small noise from him. He felt as though he were losing control--another rule broken--but found, in the moment, he didn’t care. Ienzo tangled his hands in that blonde hair and kissed him, finding a rhythm with him, smooth and gentle, a steadily growing heat blocking out anything else.

“Maybe a little faster?” he asked in a voice that wasn’t quite his.

Demyx made another noise and obliged him, moving harder. Ienzo could feel every bit of it, his body getting so sensitive the more excited he got. “Fuck,” Demyx said to his shoulder. He pressed his lips against his shoulder, his chest. “I--”

He let himself get lost in his body, his trembling thighs, the little waves of feeling starting to break over him in earnest, building smoothly towards that finish. “I’m really--”

Demyx’s hand reached down into the tangle of their bodies to find his clit again, and it was this more than anything that forced him over the edge.

It overtook him so fully and completely that for a moment he wasn’t sure where he was, a hot and demanding pleasure holding everything out at arm’s length. He couldn’t stop shaking. He could feel, on some level, Demyx thrust into him once or twice more before he seemed to finish too, his dick twitching a little inside of him.

Ienzo came back slowly, seeing the ceiling first, his hands trembling, his skin borderline raw. Demyx eased out of him, making him shudder, and threw away the condom. “Are you okay?” Ienzo heard.

“Yes,” he said. “I’m still--coming down.”

“...Me too.” Demyx settled next to him on the bed, breathing hard. “Do you cuddle?”

Another rule that would be broken. At this point why bother keeping track? “Yes.” If anything, the arms around his waist helped. “I’m not sure I believe that was your first time.”

He laughed. “What, because I paid attention to you for five seconds? What idiots have you been sleeping with?”

“...Idiots, indeed.” He found himself relaxing in this strange bed. He’d almost forgotten that sex with another person could be satisfying instead of mere physical upkeep. “I do believe that’s the best I’ve had for some time.”

Demyx brushed his cheek. “Fuck, me too. I just… where did you come from, Ienzo?”

“Here. Planet Earth.” He smiled. “Though I… haven’t experienced something so instant in a long while. Maybe ever.”

“Me either.” He kissed him, and for a moment Ienzo used that to ground himself. “I know it’s been… like, a day and a half. But I really like you.”

The smile was involuntary. “Maybe it’s against my better judgement… but I like you too.”

#serendipity #ienzo #demyx #zemyx #ienzo is afab trans #unplanned pregnancy

[thecrookedgavel]

The Black Box Readings - Ep 1 Transcript

Here’s the transcript for episode 1 of The Black Box Readings, the podcast where I read to you the backup of queer blogs that have gone down. 

See Other Episodes

An: Hey, all! And welcome to The Black Box Readings, the new podcast where I read to you the backup of queer blogs that have gone down! I’m your host, An Capuano. So basically, it’s a show where I narrate through a deleted or deactivated blog over the course of a season, with a focus on queer artists. Though to be honest, there was a specific blog that inspired me to make this podcast, and unless this format is super popular, I may just do the one season. Anyway, although reading things in a dramatic fashion is definitely in my wheelhouse, non-fiction podcasts are not. So please bear with me while I go through some growing pains as I try and figure this thing out. 

Alright, so this season, we have the story of a digital artist who caught my attention with a really cool piece of Overwatch fanart. It’s about her journey through a life spent mostly online, disability, and navigating through the difficulties of realizing that you’re trans.

For those of you not in the know, I am a disabled trans woman myself, so it’s not a journey I’m altogether unfamiliar with. The biggest reason I’m doing this podcast is because stories like ours get drowned out in the media. I wanted to be able to tell her story so that queer people, young and old, can hear something that resonates with them. And I have a good feeling that this will do that for you.

The Tumblr in question, I won’t say the address. Just know that the title of the blog was: “Less Than Human”. Yeah, I know. Not a very cheery introduction. I sort of choose to think of it, kind of like reclaiming a slur. If she calls herself less than human, other people lose the power to hurt her with it. I’m telling you the blog title because it is important later.

Anyways, enough out of me, here’s the first post of the episode, which happens to be the first post of the blog itself. It’s titled:

“Welcome!

Hey, my name is -”

Ok, so I guess I didn’t think this through. In the post, she uses her deadname, and I don’t feel comfortable reading it out to you all. If I have to choose between deadnaming a trans girl and being a little inaccurate, I’m choosing inaccuracy. I should say, actually, that I don’t consider myself a journalist or anything like that. Also, I get it would be bad of me to use her real name too. So we’ll just call her… Hmmm…. Ok, let’s go with Emmy.

“Welcome!

Hey, my name is Emmy, and I’m 19 years old! Nice to meet you guys! I’ve decided to start posting on my tumblr instead of using it as a dash, lol! I’m a visual artist, though I mostly stick to digital art these days. I spend most of my time reading. My fandoms are Gravity Falls, Steven Universe, Supernatural, Sonic the Hedgehog, Marvel, and of course, Shrek! Lmao. I think Cat Girls are cute, but I’m not a weeb”

*Laugh* I never read this post while she was active. Her sense of humor is really present in this post, she was always silly like this. Anyways, she follows up this post by posting a backlog of art that I figure she must have made and not shown to anyone. It’s all really good stuff. Some fandom, some original. It’s clear to me that she’s not posting her earlier, rougher work. I don’t remember too many details though, as this was a while ago, and I didn’t think to save her artwork when I was copying all her text posts into the google doc. I hope someone out there saved them before they were deleted, though.

I’m not going to bore you by reading every single one of her posts, or anything like that. Just the ones that stand out to me. Here’s one about Supernatural and how she might be falling out of love with it. 

“I don’t know guys, I’m finding it hard to watch supernatural these days. Don’t get me wrong, it’s still one of my favorite shows, it’s just totally not as good as the first 5 seasons. That and I WANT DEAN AND CASS TO BE TOGETHER! Is that so wrong? Look, Cass is an immortal being that just HAPPENED to take a male form. If he had a female form, you can bet that he and Dean would have banged already. I’ve read the tumblr posts too, the ones that talk about all the hints the writers give that Dean is gay. This is ABSOLUTELY queerbaiting, and even as a straight guy, I can see that. I have a lot of gay mutuals who have convinced me how ultimately cute Dean and Cass are, and I feel bad for them, because they’re not being treated fair. You think in its 12 seasons there would be something, but no, nothing. Pisses me off”

Here is where we start seeing a connection between Emmy and queer culture. Although she’s currently IDing as straight and male, you can tell she cares about queer representation. Now, I’m not saying that wanting good queer content makes you queer, of course not. Just that knowing that Emmy is queer, when you look back at her earlier posts, there’s some evidence there. She even talks about Castiel, a male character, having a female form, which I find interesting for obvious reasons.

Next up is a post about something outside of her fandoms, a show called Monk. For those of you who don’t know it, it’s a show focused on a detective with OCD who uses his disability to solve crimes no one else can. As someone with OCD myself, I really enjoyed the show, but it’s not without its problems. Hmm, yeah, I’ll get to those after reading the post, I think

“I’ve been watching a new show lately! Well, a show that’s new to me at least. It’s called Monk! I’m 3 seasons in, and I laugh every episode. But it’s not without its serious moments too. It’s about Adrian Monk, a detective with Obsessive Compulsive Disorder (OCD) and it’s like a super power to him. He can do things no one else can. But he also can’t do things that everyone else takes for granted. Mood. He always says “It’s a gift… And a curse” when talking about it. Big mood. Anyway, I highly recommend it, because it’s a positive depiction of someone mentally ill! I’m so used to people who are “crazy” being mass murderers or some shit. Idk, it’s heartwarming.”

I noticed one of the hashtags of her post was, “Finally found a version with captions.” This is important for later and I’ll get to it by the end of the episode. Where the previous post was the first we saw of her queerness, this is the first we’ll see about her connection with mental illness. It’s unclear if she feels her inabilities are balanced off by her abilities, or if her “mood” was just about her being unable to do what others can. Since her “big mood” is regarding Adrian Monk’s favourite quote “It’s a gift and a curse”, I like to think she was being positive and was including her abilities in the “mood.”

While I do agree with Emmy that it’s a positive depiction of someone mentally ill, and that’s certainly better than having yet another bad guy is who’s only evil because he’s crazy, I’m worried that it’s too positive. It’s actually a really common trope where neurodivergent people in media are seen as “super human,” like Sheldon in the Big Bang Theory, or uhh, the main character from The Good Doctor, I forget his name. It makes it look like everyone with autism or OCD are geniuses, and that sort of skews how neurotypicals view people like us in a negative way. Like, I do view my OCD as a gift, I wouldn’t be able to write the way I do, or play video games the same way if I didn’t have it. But I’m not a superhuman by any means. But I’m expected to, in some sense, outperform everyone because of my OCD, because of this impossible standard set by the media. *Sigh* I’m sorry, I’m getting really off topic. I hope you don’t mind this little rant.

Back to Emmy, I find it a little upsetting that she feels herself cursed in some way. Knowing what I know about her, I like to think she was more gifted than cursed, but given the title of her blog, I doubt she would agree with me. We can glean from this post that she is disabled in some way or another. Maybe she herself has OCD? Or maybe she just relates her own, different disability to OCD? It’s hard to tell at this point, and I don’t want to spoil it, especially since it will come up again in a few posts. 

Next up, we have a post about not just queer characters, but lesbian characters. I’m sure you have heard of Overwatch by now, even if you haven’t played it. Well, the creative devs promised us that a handful of the cast was queer, and at least to me, it seemed like an empty promise. Hmm, I guess it seems a little bit like the queerbaiting conversation we had earlier. Interesting. You know what I mean, right? Like, why take the risk of pissing off the straight, cis part of your fanbase with queer characters when you can just say some characters are queer and attract a bigger queer fanbase that way? But then they did something that blew me out of the water. They made a comic where Tracer has a girlfriend. This next post from Emmy is about this reveal.

“Merry Christmas! And what a Christmas it’s been. Because I got something I’ve been asking for for a LONG time. Blizzard made Tracer gay! I’m not the only one who’s been asking for this, a huge chunk of the fandom has been saying that Tracer is only into other girls. It’s been my headcanon for so long, and now it doesn’t have to be, because it’s canon! Tracer and Emily are so cute together! And their kiss is so hot too! Yeah, lesbians are really hot in general. They’re every guy’s ultimate fantasy. Thanks, Jeff!”

An: Ok, so before we continue, I think I need to apologize on Emmy’s behalf for the way she talks about lesbians. As a trans lesbian, I had a period where I talked about lesbains that way too. Before I came to terms with that identity, I mean. Since you believe you’re a straight guy, there’s no real explanation for why you’re so into lesbians other than them being a male fantasy. But it’s more than that. It’s part of like, seeing yourself as a girl that the idea of being with a girl that likes girls... that is so fundamentally appealing. 

Like, ok. *sigh* I remember this one time very clearly… I was with my girlfriend at the time and a friend of mine at a bubble tea shop. This was probably 9 or 10 years ago now? Jeez. Anyways, this couple of girls starts making out at the table next to us, and I had a full on sexual awakening. I remember that I couldn’t look away. Mostly because my ex wouldn’t let me forget it. I got teased by my friend and berated by my ex. Because I couldn’t explain what happened to her, let alone to myself, I eventually came up with a rather math-y explanation involving vectors of attraction *laugh*. Something like, if women are attractive to me, and men are not attractive to me, then adding their vectors together gives less attraction than two women’s vectors being added together. It was pretty stupid. I don’t talk to either of those two people anymore, by the way. 

Anyways, my point is that since this is before she’s realized she’s a lesbian herself, she’s under the false impression that she needs to sexualize lesbians in order to explain why she’s so attracted to the concept. So please don’t hold that against her. 

---

With that out of the way, we can move on to her next post. It’s a piece of art she made, and it’s pretty special to me. You see, this was the way I found her blog. One of the blogs I follow, who knows which at this point, must have reblogged it and it came across my dashboard. Again, I don’t have a copy of any of Emmy’s art, but I remember it pretty well. It’s a picture of Emily wearing Tracer’s outfit... Shit… Why did I give Emmy a name so close to Emily? Emily as in Tracer’s girlfriend. Maybe it’s because of my association with her and this drawing? Either way, it’s too late now, I’m not re-recording this whole episode. *Sigh* We’ll just stick with the blogger being named Emmy. Anyways! She’s sort of looking a bit out of place, like she doesn’t know how to feel about having a Chrono-accelerator attached to her chest. There’s a speech bubble in the frame pointing off screen that says, “You look marvellous, love!”, or something to that effect, but it’s obviously supposed to be Tracer saying it. It was a really cute drawing, and I was really fond of it, so I liked and followed. Feels like so long ago. 

Anyways, she did reblog the picture afterwards, saying:

“Thank you so much for all the notes! I really appreciate the support. Who knew that something so dumb would be liked by so many people? I really like Emily, and I hope she’s added as a Hero in Overwatch soon! I feel so happy! I’m going to go and do some more drawing, so keep an eye out for more posts!”

Not much going on in this post, but I decided to read it anyway because it contrasts so heavily with the next post. Not the next time she posted, but the next post I’m going to read. Actually, it’s the last post of this episode. 

So, I’m going to warn you, this is a side of Emmy we haven’t seen yet. The really negative side. *Sigh* I don’t know what set her off, maybe nothing did, but I think this post is very important to read to you, as it clears the air about her disabilities.

“I really appreciate all the love you’ve given my art, but I feel like I don’t deserve any of it. I’m so broken and worthless and I’ve only been pretending to be normal so that you’ll all like me. The truth is, I’m physically and mentally disabled, and life is just a never ending struggle. 

First off, I’m deaf. Very deaf. The quietest thing I can hear in either ear is a chainsaw. It means I can’t understand speech or anything I’d need to be social. I don’t know sign language at all, I was never taught. So I just… stay inside all day. I’ve been homeschooled by my Dad since I was young. He thinks something bad will happen to me if I go outside, because I couldn’t hear something like a car coming towards me. So I live my life online, for the most part. I feel so isolated, and like I can’t relate to anyone normal. 

Also, I have Bi-Polar Disorder. For those you don’t know of it, it basically means I have high highs and low lows. I’ve done a good job so far at hiding my lows from everyone and only showing my highs. Until now, I guess… I just feel so low today, and I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I just had to be real. Even if it’s an ugly side of me that I hate. My dad hates how moody I am too. He just doesn’t get that it’s not my fault. Even my highs are hard for him to handle sometimes. Anyway, please forgive me for lying so long”

So, I sense a bit of imposter syndrome here. She’s gotten some success and because she views herself as not even a normal person, she thinks she doesn’t deserve it. It’s a pretty common feeling amongst content creators and something you have to move past if you want to make stuff. It’s like, *sigh* like me, I’m not an expert voice actor, why are people listening to me? I have tricked them into thinking I’m worth listening to. If you’re feeling that way about a recent success, just know that it’s all bullshit and it’s normal to feel that way. I wish I had that knowledge at the time I originally read that post… Because then, I would have messaged her and let her know. But yeah, we have more to unpack here.

She talks about being deaf, and the level that she describes is a profound hearing loss, which is as bad as it gets. I have that level of hearing loss in my left ear, and it’s really hard to deal with. So, I kind of can’t imagine what it would be like to have it in both ears. 

Like, for me, I remember this one time where I was at my locker in high school, and someone must have been asking me a question a few times on my bad side. She wanted to know if I had any extra bus tickets, and by the time I finally caught on that she was talking to me, she said something like “Urg, I just want to punch you.” And it wasn’t a joke either, she was very frustrated with the way my hearing loss had affected her. It made me feel small, and like I was an inconvenience to those around me. Guess it didn’t help how I felt that I had a crush on her at the time… Ha… *Sigh* It was very isolating to grow up like that. I didn’t really belong there, but I didn’t exactly belong in the deaf community either, since I could hear fine out of one ear. So when Emmy describes how isolating it is to be deaf and not know sign language, I get it. I really feel that. When I saw this post, it really made me feel for her. This is probably the point in time where I made a mental note to support her art whenever I could. 

Lastly she talks about her mental illness, being bi-polar. I know a lot less about bi-polar disorder than I do hearing loss. Though I was in a production that never wrapped up about a bi-polar teen. Actually, I was the strict dad who couldn’t understand his child’s illness, which is a similar theme seen in Emmy’s post. I’ve actually been cast as a dad 3 or 4 times now? Yeah. *Laughs* Anyways, what I understand about it is that it can be seasonal. You might be manic for a season, and depressive for another. But yeah, it doesn’t always work that way. Usually medication can help balance you out, but in Emmy’s case, she wasn’t taking any meds at this point. I’ll say it here for clarity’s sake, but her having bi-polar disorder was a self-diagnosis, not a professional one. That’ll be covered in the next episode, though. 

So now the whole “Less than Human” thing makes a bit more sense, doesn’t it? Not because it’s true in any sense, but because it was true to her. Disability is something that people tend to see as different, or othering. There’s a lot of stigma there. We can sort of tell at this point that the way her Dad views her and treats her doesn’t help her feel any better about this either. 

That’s why she likes the depiction of mental illness in Monk so much, right? Because it’s a bit of a “More than Human” approach. It gives her some hope that maybe she can be seen positively one day too. As far as movies with Deaf characters goes there’s like 100, if I recall correctly. Which is honestly pitiful compared to the amount of movies, period. So it’s more than likely that she never got to see herself in media in that perspective before. 

Also, there’s the markings of a budding trans girl in there too, which may further intensify the feeling of not being human. For years and years *sigh*, there was practically zero positive representation of trans people in media. We’re taught that feeling like this makes us freaks, and that presenting differently than we’re supposed to makes us... something worse than that. It all comes together to form something bitter and isolating. Especially before you start owning those parts of you and finding a community of your own.

Thank you for listening to this episode of The Black Box Readings! I really ranted more than I thought I would. Hopefully you all liked the anecdotal stuff I added in, didn’t really plan on doing that. Follow me on Twitter at TheCrookedGavel to stay up to date on this and other queer podcasts. Feel free to contact me there as well. This is An Capuano, signing off!

#queer #lgbtpride #visualart #podcast #transisbeautiful

[chaoscrystals]

Every note in my phone 19

Maybe I can speed up the present. All I can think about is how I'm going to dominate the art world. I guess that's kind of fucked up? I feel dizzy and like my blood sugar is low. My body must look so disgusting I'm always burping. I must be disgusting that's why Ariel never hits me up All I can think about is how I want an art empire that is accessible to people of all races and social classes And how I want this sandwich I'm about to go eat. I'm so much fatter than I was when I was 18 that's why Ariel never hits me up anymore!!! :(__(_((((( It's really not worth beating myself up over. Pretty sure I got a yeast infection from fucking him anyway. * Why does my back hurt so much why does everything hurt why is life pain. when have I gotten to the point where I can hold all my pain and all my ecstasy at the same time, for one moment and then the moment ends and I'm back on the train again trying to make time go faster. If I was decaying I would look like black and pus and torn flesh, strips of flesh covering what once was my body. She killed me and left me in the woods to die. Put me in the back of her trunk. Headlights were right blue. Righteous and it was..she thought it was good.  I wasn't either dissatisfied, but isn't dying to hurt and be sad? I could spit black tar right here and people would probably just turn away in disgust, I could vomit up maggots, yeah girl its the same as it is for you too. I don't want you anymore he always wanted me. I'm taking you with me. Now we are dead. It came to me in a flash I had a divine vision. Of music. And being alone. * The boy means everything to me I got him in the corner of my sleeve, oh the bend of my elbow i lean on the table looking over at you I see the empty glass it magnifies you I'm ready I'm ready we're starting again, you're starting to break my heart again * Male exclusivity needs to die. Some men really can't be around women if they aren't fucking someone it seems. Ugh. Get away from me. Wake the fuck up. Sorry that everyone made us think that our bodies alone are sexual and need to be covered. I do so many non sexual things with my body. Americans can tend to being lethargic. I'm so angry * Im all caught in vines . sleeping time leaks the day its dripping in green and surrounding me. Phonetically speaking I think your words have more meaning than you realize Pick it up again inspired by my friends and I'm feeling feeling so good. Pack up your bags and take a vacation take yourself to rockaway * There's nothing special about me I bet you could compare me to any other girl in the world and id seem just the same, got a pretty face and her head isn't too bad either. And if you asked me today id say I don't think nothing special about me neither but id tell you what I know, that I'm the girl who would love you the most. * The praise on the water sought after colorful lights and pure tones Praise phoning in for a second chance in glasses cracked in the pavement red warring the light and wearing it as a disguise, praise be had, our Lord has grown old * Y stomach is too full its so full but I'm hungry and I don't have the energy to digest. I never needed to eat that much * So excited to be your own boss until the app doesn't give you work!! I'm gonna stop acting like I'm not doing things for a reaction or to make people think something of me. I am. Including playing music I am almost to the point where I dont have near anxiety attacks from eating around people. Proud of myself Taking kindness at surface level only is probably not going to cause any progress. Take all of me, baby. Even if I'm mean from time to time. I'm not okay with people's boundaries being broken in a monogamous relationship. But I don't really believe in monogamous relationships. Maybe I'm just cynical but it seems like there are too many rules. Or maybe it's all a ploy to lure guys in because they'll think I'm easygoing but I'm not I want to tell everyone every single one of my thoughts that sounds like a fun game * Jonathan is on my mind I've always had a craving for a good hearted musician and someone who will counter my unbalance, prince charming rides in on a horse, who brought the horse into the street who's mans is that? Are they getting with the plan do they understand or do you only like me because i have connections to new dimensions * I'm in love with nothing This haunting feeling Like I know what comes next I'm in love with nothing There's a hole in my heart when its growing apart it gets darker and smaller and I'm falling in love with you again * It isn't fair he will never hear me. He will never see me or understand me, when the mere sight of him sends me spinning away from anything easy to feel, I'm feeling so dreary one second and the next I got jets on my feet, flying over the moon cause I'm so in love with you * I just enjoy Jonathan is my whole heart!! One day he will know * Songs to write out Gracias a la vida Stormy weather Good morning heartache Lover man where can you be April in Paris * I want to tell people how hard my life is! * My song for you This is my song for you I like everything you do When I see you its like a cool breeze graced me with unending presently waiting pleasant and unchanging you seem stable to me, and I even like you when you're rocky. I like the lyrics I like the melody, you're like music, lets make a baby And live together In the city and very far. We can have two houses and even a car This is my song for you I like everything you do When I realized it was you Wrap it in red and a bow, kiss my head, after your show I know I can be a hard one to break, I've heard all these stories of heart break, what do I choose, what to listen, use or lose. But I know when I'm with you my dreams start coming true * Deep desires Understand the universe. Have someone accompany me in my sadness and despair. I want to come back together I want to feel enlightened I want everyone to feel goddamned enlightened I'm definitely willing to open up portals make everyone realize we are collectively manifesting our reality I want everyone in new York city to know my name nova luz, the body inhabited by us. She needs a companion. Lets get her a partner or two. * How do i really feel about the boys that I think I love? My Spanish tongue isn't too sharp....I wish...shit man, you just have to try harder to get it right. Laser mind. Not tonight. Michael is the name of an angel and no matter how hard I try or how much I'm thinking about Jonathan I still wonder about Michael and we spent more time together than Jonathan and I ever have. Fuck me. What are either of them up to? Why do neither of them talk to me. Haven't seen either one in weeks. I think I feel like I'm attached or in love. No matter how hard I try to forget...not trying hard enough you stupid fucking cunt! You're so fucking weak nova!. I wish someone knew how much I fucking hate myself sometimes I don't get why I just internalize this and nobody can ever know and its always a dead end fall off a cliff and snap your spine on the rocks before you drown and are pummeled by the waterfall FUCK. I think about them every day I wish I had a boyfriend, but malificence red lipped and hooded with festering infections on her skin, she's standing in the way, she's guarding the little red dog in my heart, the little puppy with forgetful parents, crying and underfed in an alley way alone, you only care about the way it looks. The loving puppy. Loving little dog I love you so much I love you no matter what even if you took a knife to my throat severed my veins and rendered my body a corpse I would still love you. Shit man that's fucking intense. That's a part of me that needs some help. The unconditionally loving part.....have I been deceived? I feel as though she has been deceived, and people always want to exploit her loving nature. This is the world I live in today. What if I wake up tomorrow on another planet? Is my boyfriend going to be there? If it was a planet with fruit orchards brightly colored things little houses and healthy atmosphere I would be down. Since I'm making it up, my boyfriend is there too. He loves me and we only need each other. I love him so much it fills me with fullness and vibrancy. He loves me so much. We spend most of our time together enjoying the planet, and sometimes we cook a big feast together for our friends and they come over and we all play music and drink wine * I guess now is an appropriate time to work on my issues with jealousy right? Actually...maybe ill wait What if it was a giant poetic metaphor? Green goop spilling from my heart and getting stuck in my pelvis..melting out of my pelvis out onto the floor. My physical my non physical. Non psychic but spiritual. Elephants from India are a shymbol for wealthy. And poor. Bread. Winning. Happy family. Sad family. Bread. Okay Maybe now I can work on my massive jealousy issues. Okay I'm going to start by listing scenarios that make me jealous Any female speaks to a boy that I like (level 10 code red situation) Someone's life looks shinier than mine Julia's in middle eastern vogue My friends have things that I want Other people have things that I want Other peoples bands are playing at cooler venues I am literally not a musician my name is Harriet and I never leave my apartment. Yo these sensory hallucinations are too much sometimes. That was a side note. I think my biggest issue is that when I am into someone in a romantic way, I get really upset when I see them talking to like, anyone of the opposite sex. Or of the same sex with Ursula. Or when someone is skinnier than me. Sometimes I get jealous cause of that which is not allowed because I am not allowed to have an eating disorder. Why is Julia getting so much attention while simultaneously being underweight and anorexic??? Noooo oh my god is she okay? Is everyone else okay?? Why is that allowed are you people fucking retarded? I can't do these things without having a million other thoughts. But I'm breaking the surface which is something. This is a deep fear for me I don't intend to leave unchecked. * I want somebody to love. I think writing all this sad lonely poetry can't be helping kts hard not to hate yourself sometimes. I wish someone was reading this. I really want a boyfriend so badly but I'm resisting it because in want it to be Jonathan so I'm waiting for him and ignoring everyone else.that's scary I don't know where he's at. He never talks to me. I want to smash glass bottles over his head for being so detached Fuck you!!! He never talks to him I mean me but I think about him pretty much every day.this hurts Why am I being like this? Lately everything I do is to get his attention. I want to cry. I hardly get any attention from him this is ripping me up inside.I just keep these fantasies in my head and I fall in love with them but it's an illusion I'm in love with an illusion. This hurts my chest. All I want is his attention and he isn't giving me any!!! I should turn around and walk the other way but I know I wont because I'm still in my fantasies that we are the same and that he gets weird crazy visions as well and that I was a part of his. I think I'm going to be wrong. My heart.. * I'm hitting the resin in my pipe again. And writing semi cohesive notes about my feelings. Am I using boys as a distraction from my problems? Why do I always want someone to hear the most insecure parts of me....I always always share my deep insecurities, like, first before we even get to know each other. What a weird kind of flirting style that's so weirded out by myself. Like, why? Do I not realize that most people are too in denial to accept insecurities in someone else? Especially in a package as cute as a nova. I have some pretty great ideas in my head..heart..butt..whatever...all of me......... Dot dot dot * Feeling A poem by nova luz palaquibay brener Written in September of 2017 I can feel everything. Mannequin pussy is famous they were in new York Times and rolling stone and a bunch of other big name publications. In happy for them. Not like when Julia's thing got famous. Even though I didn't spend a ton of time with any of these people, they changed my life. I still feel a little intimidated by that world, by the professional world and its cutthroat attitude. I don't really like it or want to participate. I just wanna have a nice apartment with a nice boy and wake up at 7 am every day. I still want to play rock music Its fun Mannequin pussy has that song where Marissa goes "I'm feeling it all I gotta get home I gotta get up" I'm feeling it all I'm feeling it all I just want to share a room with a nice boy and Rowan can come too And we can have small shows where we support each other for the things we love about each other and we still love each other when the other one is being an asshole. I don't like thinking of myself in a negative way. It feels bad. I'm very childish. I'm insecure that the things I do aren't big enough. That's stupid. I'm mad at my mom for always acting like everything was a huge deal. Like, nothing was ever just chill and normal everything was something. I'm childish inside * September 7 2017 Dear j boxer, There are actually several thousand things I would like to be saying to you, but I don't want to overwhelm you and lose you. Oh my god. You make me so nervous. Did you realize?at flowers for all occasions. I have never been more stressed out at a show in my life. I was hyper focused on what you might be thinking of me. I want to pour out all the imbalance I feel and you can watch it run down into the drains Yes I still think about that. And don't think that the only side of me is erratic and unbalanced and bad, everyone has so many sides. I know you think the way i play is interesting. I know I can play well. I feel like I am everything when I think about you. I think about you every day. Would you still love me when I am nervous and insecure? Love me like this or you'll never love me at all, you can only leave me if you don't love me like this, my all. My heart. Sometimes I get chest pains What do you think about me? My dream partner is someone I can put together shows with. but not ordinary shows. I don't know. But it would be something. I can envision my dream partner: active, healthy, compassionate, loving, open, creative, enjoys sex, kisses my neck. Is it fair to tell you this? Am I asking too many questions? Is it fair that I want to tell you all this but we haven't exchanged a single word in weeks? I can't explain it, its a feeling in my body, it feels so electrifying I don't ever want to stop. I'm sorry I have to test you so much. I can't help it. I think I'm like that with everyone. I wonder what you are doing now? If I said I wasn't feeling good would you sit with me in the park and put your arm on my shoulders? Even when my eyes are puffy and dry? * I don't know there's a vacuum in my heart and silver worms that live inside the vacuum, ever present resilient love the lasting energy in my blood, that they feed off of. Freed some space for their babies I know it couldn't be any other way, but sometimes I resent my mother for leading me to believe this. Because my religion is based in pain, my suffering will cleanse my sins and if you don't know then you must be unclean, I got to tell you how I see it. Everyone is looking at me Cause there's maggots in my heart, I can feel them squirming around, I can feel the top shell of muscle straining to get ahead of them to get on top of them, maggots squirming around in my heart, eating my muscles. My mind is unfocused. All I can see is misery. But its okay. The lord wants me to be this way. With a red-skinned entity hanging onto my shoulders and telling me "no, don't go there, you dog". Maggots in my heart. Maggots eating my heart * September 8 2017 Dear Jonathan Hi, how are you? Its been a couple of weeks since we last met. I am pretty much still the same. Hopefully I'm going to get a job teaching kids! Maybe one day you will fall in love with me. What have you been thinking of since I last saw you?do you want to tell me? Do you think about me? Do you want to hold hands? Can I kiss you in the dark on the street? Can I kiss you in front of people? I'm trying really hard not to take things too fast. Part of me really believes you and I are the same person. I really like how you make me feel..I always think about what it would be like to fuck you again. I really want to. I think I will. But there's one thing I'm wondering. Like what kind of relationship do you want? Do you like the idea of having me around or is this like "ill see you when I see you" No it can't just be fine I have insane feelings about you I need to know. I can be fine with what you want..I just want to know I'm not gonna hurt myself falling for you when I don't need to. If I'm just living on the promise of what I think you and I could be, I need to know if I'm right, right? Oh shit this doesn't sound good I'm spiraling into a panic. Oh god. Just tell me if you want to be with me!! Sorry I kind of get these intense insecurities. Then I like to wallow in them. Love me? Hah. To not end this letter on a sad desperate note, I will say the following: I like how you look I think you are very handsome, I like how you sing and play even when you lose your focus you sound amazing to me, I want to kiss you all over be naked with you and have my chest against yours, and feel your arms. I hope you don't mind me saying I love you and that I have a lot of love for you in my heart because I am insatiably attracted to you, and I also think you are kind but distant, and I think you are very loving and radical in your ideology, but you aren't annoying and liberal and show-offy about it. I like how much you know about music and music history, I think you are really smart. I want to kiss you all over. I feel so passionate when I think about you. It feels like you live in my heart and that's why I love you. I really really want to tell you. I don't know what could happen I just need to fuck you. I want you so badly, body and soul and mind. * August 9 Honey I want to marry you I love your sweet and bitter tastes Even on your sour days You make me believe That all my desires can be mine And I know my heart is true When I'm near you Yes I may have immense pools of jealousy, but honey, its nothing to me, when you bring me back home In a sentimental way, I say, oooooohhh you're too good for me The way we play together Like in our youth I feel like our life is a union, oh know honey I want to be true to only you We spend our days rushing around But I dream of a night where, without a sound I can slip into bed next to you, and you will hold me close, you're then the only other person I need to know, you're my everything Oh my honey I love you, you know I do, I would spend my days working for you, because I do love all the things you do And at night when the moods right, ill look into your eyes and say my sweetie, you know I love you.

[fanwarriorsunite4life]

So my bad anon, I totally ended up screwing up your ask and shiz by accident but i promise i got it- you wanted me to answer all questions so you got it:

lets get personal.

1: 6 of the songs you listen to most?

Its been varying a SHIT ton over the last two months especially, but ATM i currently love:

Body on Fire by Maggie Rose

Too Many Love Songs by Maggie Rose (notice a trend?)

B-A-B-Y by Carla Thomas

I Don’t Believe You - Pink

Life of the Party - All Time Low

Little Do You Know - Alex and Sierra

2: If you could meet anyone on this earth, who would it be?

um, all the people I’m gonna meet at ClexaCon in April! Celebs, other fans, and all! IM SO EXCITED ITS GONNA BE THE BEST FUCKING WEEKEND.

3: Grab the book nearest to you, turn to page 23, give me line 17.

There isnt a book next to me? theres random magazines on the kitchen table. page 23 is an add for Poise Impressa bladder leakage shit lol

4: What do you think about most?

I kinda really want to plead the fifth on this, but probably two things: how I want to make my work ethic better and make a better difference and how I dont feel I can do that until I get my personal shit together. And how I really want a certain someone to be at my side while I do that so I can be on theirs too. guess thats 3.

5: What does your latest text message from someone else say?

From my lil sis: “Okay, np”

6: Do you sleep with or without clothes on?

lmao it depends. If im really exhausted, then i may sleep without a shirt. If im with a SO then I will sleep naked, but I dont ever do that myself unless I’m just that hungover or something. So clothes it is. 

7: What’s your strangest talent?

I honestly dont know lol. erm... let me get back to you on that. Does it count if my left leg is wayyy more flexible than my right? dont ask me why. i have no clue 

8: Girls… (finish the sentence); Boys… (finish the sentence)

girls are a gift to the world. boys are a gift to the world. 

9: Ever had a poem or song written about you?

Not that I am aware of. Fun (not fun) fact: I’m way more afraid of not being spoken of than being spoken of poorly. idk man. if anyone has written a poem or song about me, plz feel free to share

10: When is the last time you played the air guitar?

holy shit, i have no clue. usually im more of an air drums person. in that case, yesterday. 

11: Do you have any strange phobias?

I HATE SPUDS ON POTATOES SPUDDY POTATOES SCARE THE SHIT OUT OF ME DONT PLAY 

12: Ever stuck a foreign object up your nose?

not that i reminder? maybe a coin or something as a kid? its very possible.

13: What’s your religion?

if i identified with anything, it would be an agnostic universalist.

14: If you are outside, what are you most likely doing?

hanging out with friends and family

15: Do you prefer to be behind the camera or in front of it?

behind, but i do have a secret desire to be in front of it. my insecurities currently outweigh my ego in putting myself in front of it, but if someone asked me to do it, i prob would. people just dont ask.

16: Simple but extremely complex. Favorite band?

Halestorm. Without a doubt.

17: What was the last lie you told?

oh god. I probably told one while canvassing today. I said i donated to one of the organizations that i represent but i dont. oops. did it to convince people that they are good orgs to donate too (in my defence, they ARE and they are wonderful orgs, i just dont have the money to donate)

18: Do you believe in karma?

yes, but i dont really use karma for consistent rationalization

19: What does your URL mean?

WE ARE ALL FAN WARRIORS OF OUR OWN FANDOMS AND WE SHOULD ALL FUCKING UNITE IN OUR AWESOMENESS

20: What is your greatest weakness; your greatest strength?

Greatest weakness? I’m loyal to a fault and will fight for what I want till the bitter end. I’m recently admitting that I have the martyr complex, im pretty sure. Strength? You get me passionate about something, you gain my love, then I’m all in. I’ll work my ass off for whatever that is. 

21: Who is your celebrity crush?

Kat barrell and Natasha Negovanlis, as of rn. but i love so many others

22: Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

nope

23: How do you vent your anger?

i dont. i bottle it up and try to avoid it. I’ve been trying to go to the gym tho; that helps when i actually do it. writing helps too, when i do it. Definitely need to find a better way to deal with my emotions. its harder to find time during adult life mayn.

24: Do you have a collection of anything?

comics, poetry books, my own writings, quarter collection... probably something else im not thinking of

25: Do you prefer talking on the phone or video chatting online?

FACETIME IS WHERE ITS AT

26: Are you happy with the person you’ve become?

Yes and no. 

27: What’s a sound you hate; sound you love?

Sound I hate? loud city noises, particularly construction shit. Love? ... I hate myself, but the sound of people I love telling me they love me too. SHUTUP ITS A SOUND I SAID NOTHING WHAT

28: What’s your biggest “what if”?

Usually its “What if I didn’t fuck up?” or “What if I was reincarnated into something?”

29: Do you believe in ghosts? How about aliens?

I wanna believe in ghosts but i cant say i do. Aliens: hell yeah.

30: Stick your right arm out; what do you touch first? Do the same with your left arm.

Right - kitchen towel and my ECU bag and keys. Left - magazine and table

31: Smell the air. What do you smell?

my house’s normal smell. and food i just ate.

32: What’s the worst place you have ever been to?

My own mind at its worst. Or, physical place, probably a mental hospital.

33: Choose: East Coast or West Coast?

I cant say; I’ve never been West. So East for now until I see the West.

34: Most attractive singer of your opposite gender?

I like never think about this. um. Zayn is cute?

35: To you, what is the meaning of life?

Finding a reason to breathe. Sometimes its family, friends, work, money, power- I think everyone’s meaning of life is different.

36: Define Art.

anything you make to express yourself or help yourself heal.

37: Do you believe in luck?

I kinda have too, I was an athlete.

38: What’s the weather like right now?

dark and cloudy.

39: What time is it?

7:07 pm and im totally running late to pick up my sis. (update - finishing this around 11:11 ooo make a wish cause i had to go get my sis so)

40: Do you drive? If so, have you ever crashed?

Yes. Never “crashed” but have hit someone before and have been hit.

41: What was the last book you read?

A poetry book by Lauren Zuniga. That counts.

42: Do you like the smell of gasoline?

No, but I like the smell of paint. 

43: Do you have any nicknames?

Laur-Laur, jiggles, cheesecake, Lo-ren, bean-bean.. others I dont think I should name i guess

44: What was the last film you saw?

Baby Driver

45: What’s the worst injury you’ve ever had?

Injury? Concussion. worst fucking thing of my life. it really was my fault though.

46: Have you ever caught a butterfly?

no

47: Do you have any obsessions right now?

oh god yes. if you know me, you know i always obsess. right now, carmilla and wynonna earp are my top two. easily.

48: What’s your sexual orientation?

bisexual, preference for women, fight me

49: Ever had a rumour spread about you?

I honestly dont know

50: Do you believe in magic?

I want too.

51: Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

yeah. Well, yes and no. i dont hold a grudge to never have them apart of my life usually, but i never forget what they did to me. never.

52: What is your astrological sign?

Leo

53: Do you save money or spend it?

lol spend. i need to save. so bad.

54: What’s the last thing you purchased?

groceries

55: Love or lust?

I know this may shock people that know me, but love. lust isnt any good without it. thats what i would pick if i had to choose, but i rather like the idea they exist together. they can exist separately, but they go best together for me personally.

56: In a relationship?

no, but i hope things will get better.

57: How many relationships have you had?

ones I actually really loved being in wholeheartedly? 1. total? 4. I’d say 5 but im not really counting one of them lol.

58: Can you touch your nose with your tongue?

hell yeah

59: Where were you yesterday?

work and then home feeling down. then i played my video game, Just cause 3, till midnight

60: Is there anything pink within 10 feet of you?

magazine

61: Are you wearing socks right now?

yes

62: What’s your favourite animal?

kangaroos and zebras

63: What is your secret weapon to get someone to like you?

... be a huge fucking dork and hope they dont fucking hate me

64: Where is your best friend?

.......the ones talking to me? charlotte, greensboro, greenville, raleigh (NC), texas... the one not talking to me? ... virginia/dc area

65: Give me your top 5 favourite blogs on Tumblr.

any of the ones with funny text posts/memes on wynonna earp and carmilla

66: What is your heritage?

im a white asshole with some native american in me. Choctaw. I need to learn more about my family history AND remember it.

67: What were you doing last night at 12AM?

finishing up playing my name

68: What do you think is Satan’s last name?

angelface

69: Be honest. Ever gotten yourself off?

BWAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHA dear fuck yes. duh. oh my fucking god im laughing so hard at this.

70: Are you the kind of friend you would want to have as a friend?

loyal to a fault and there at your beck and call? yeah. not always the best listener? nah

71: You are walking down the street on your way to work. There is a dog drowning in the canal on the side of the street. Your boss has told you if you are late one more time you get fired. What do you do?

I’m gonna save the fucking dog and my boss can kiss my damn ass.

72: You are at the doctor’s office and she has just informed you that you have approximately one month to live. a) Do you tell anyone/everyone you are going to die? b) What do you do with your remaining days? c) Would you be afraid?

I’d definitely tell people. At first I wouldn’t know how, and id contemplate if its important enough to tell or not, but eventually i would. id start with those close to me. idk if id want to tell everyone. id want to travel a damn lot with those i love. go new places, try new things, build as many memories as possible. because hell yeah id be afraid. I’m terrified of death and the afterlife; not knowing what happens after we pass. 

73: You can only have one of these things; trust or love.

I think love is built on trust, so love. trust isnt always built on love.

74: What’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

love on top, beyonce. literally saved my life freshman year of college.

75: What are the last four digits in your cell phone number?

F8ME

76: In your opinion, what makes a great relationship?

kinda a big one, especially for myself lately. um. I think a great relationship has a good foundation. because in the end, every relationship faces struggles and is gonna be “tested”, for lack of a better word. and what can we turn back to when we feel things arent where they need to be? the foundation. its like a house; if somethings wrong with it, but the foundation is still sturdy, its probably possible and worth fixing. if the foundation is cracked, its more risky; if the foundation is completely crushed, then its probably not a great relationship anymore.

77: How can I win your heart?

Unless you’re the person who currently has my heart right now, you can’t. or if you’re a dog. dogs win my heart. if you’re a dog, congrats. the person who has my heart has to share. sorry, i dont make the rules.

78: Can insanity bring on more creativity?

how is this a question? the craziest fucking people in the world are the most creative. Yes, yes, and more yes.

79: What is the single best decision you have made in your life so far?

this is intense. hmmmm. making a tumblr and going back on it in college. yeah. it led to my last relationship. best damn thing that ever happened to me.

80: What size shoes do you wear?

10 or 11

81: What would you want to be written on your tombstone?

I’d want someone else to write a poem or something about me. i dont want to be buried. cremation bitch (after taking my organs out for science of course)

82: What is your favourite word?

currently i really just like cussing. fuck.

83: Give me the first thing that comes to mind when you hear the word; heart.

the name of my current ex. 

84: What is a saying you say a lot?

We accept the love we think we deserve.

85: What’s the last song you listened to?

i legit am trying to look at my iphone to see what last played in my car, but its being an asshole. I wanna say the last i remember is Craving you by Thomas Rhett. im already listening to wayy more country than i usually do lately.

86: Basic question; what’s your favourite colour/colours?

in order: purple, blue, red

87: What is your current desktop picture?

A quote that says: “i know you’re sad, so i wont tell you to have a good day. Instead, I’ll simply advice you to have a day. Stay Alive, feed yourself well, wear comfortable clothes, and dont give up on yourself just yet. it’ll get better. until then, have a day.”

88: If you could press a button and make anyone in the world instantaneously explode, who would it be?

Can I make an entire building explode? preferably -cough- a building that houses certain gov officials i am not happy with -cough-?

89: What would be a question you’d be afraid to tell the truth on?

Any question that I know would upset someone. I’m working on trying to not be honest to a fault. to be honest when need be, and to know when i dont need to be brutally honest. im terrified of being too honest again in general.

90: One night you wake up because you heard a noise. You turn on the light to find that you are surrounded by MUMMIES. The mummies aren’t really doing anything, they’re just standing around your bed. What do you do?

honestly, scream and be frozen in fear. idk man. wheres my baseball bat when i need it? idc if they arent doing anything, they need to GTFO of my room.

91: You accidentally eat some radioactive vegetables. They were good, and what’s even cooler is that they endow you with the super-power of your choice! What is that power?

teleportation

92: You can re-live any point of time in your life. The time-span can only be a half-hour, though. What half-hour of your past would you like to experience again?

holy crap. wow. a half hour? idk. theres a lot. a recent one is the hayley kiyoko concert though. that concert was just absolutely phenomenal. 100/10

93: You can erase any horrible experience from your past. What will it be?

I wouldnt erase any horrible experience, because they made me who i am and helped me learn what i know. if i hadnt experienced what i experienced, that one thing not happening can change my entire life.

94: You have the opportunity to sleep with the music-celebrity of your choice. Who would it be?

Honestly, right now, I wouldnt. and i dont think i ever would. i get too starstruck easily and have way too much respect and awe for the celebrities i like. i honestly do think of them as higher beings than me (not gods but like, ya know, out of my league lmao) so nah. now if we become friends and theyre a cuddler? then yes i will SLEEP next to them. SLEEP.

95: You just got a free plane ticket to anywhere. You have to depart right now. Where are you gonna go?

i have that crazy urge to travel like a crazy person rn, so if i only had one free plane ticket, i’d go somewhere i otherwise couldnt right now, like italy. i really want to go to italy one day.

96: Do you have any relatives in jail?

not that im aware of, but who knows

97: Have you ever thrown up in the car?

...actually yes! I was severely dehydrated once and my mom had me drink 3 bottles of water back to back. then we got in the car and as she started driving, i got sick, so she pulled over and i sat there getting ready to vomit when a cop pulled over and was like “hey, you okay?” and my mom just explained i was sick, and as he walked over to look at me thats when i threw up ALLLLL that water. he stepped back so quick and was all like “do you want me to call an ambulance?”. it was great. thats how you get rid of cops. throw up in front of them (sarcasm)

98: Ever been on a plane?

Yup! ive flown to new hampshire and kansas before.

99: If the whole world were listening to you right now, what would you say?

probably some long ass rant about how fucked up the world is and how we need to turn around our governments and get them to work back for the people, not for fucking corporations and capitalism, or the capitalistic aspects of socialism. 

#ask #anon

[krissysbookshelf]

Enjoy An Exclusive Sneek Peek Of: They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera!

  On September 5, a little after midnight, Death-Cast calls Mateo Torrez and Rufus Emeterio to give them some bad news: They're going to die today. Mateo and Rufus are total strangers, but, for different reasons, they're both looking to make a new friend on their End Day. The good news: There's an app for that. It's called the Last Friend, and through it, Rufus and Mateo are about to meet up for one last great adventure—to live a lifetime in a single day.  

LEARN MORE

  PART ONE Death-Cast To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that’s all. —Oscar Wilde

  September 5, 2017 MATEO TORREZ 12:22 a.m.

Death-Cast is calling with the warning of a lifetime—I’m going to die today. Forget that, “warning” is too strong a word since warnings suggest something can be avoided, like a car honking at someone who’s crossing the street when it isn’t their light, giving them the chance to step back; this is more of a heads-up. The alert, a distinctive and endless gong, like a church bell one block away, is blasting from my phone on the other side of the room. I’m freaking out already, a hundred thoughts immediately drowning out everything around me. I bet this chaos is what a first-time skydiver feels as she’s plummeting out of a plane, or a pianist playing his first concert. Not that I will ever know for sure.

It’s crazy. One minute ago I was reading yesterday’s blog entry from CountDowners—where Deckers chronicle their final hours through statuses and photos via live feeds, this particular one about a college junior trying to find a home for his golden retriever—and now I’m going to die.

I’m going to . . . no . . . yes. Yes.

My chest tightens. I’m dying today.

I’ve always been afraid of dying. I don’t know why I thought this would jinx it from actually happening. Not forever, obviously, but long enough so I could grow up. Dad has even been drilling it into my head that I should pretend I’m the main character of a story that nothing bad ever happens to, most especially death, because the hero has to be around to save the day. But the noise in my head is quieting down and there’s a Death-Cast herald on the other end of the phone waiting to tell me I’m going to die today at eighteen years old.

Wow, I’m actually . . .

I don’t want to pick up the phone. I’d rather run into Dad’s bedroom and curse into a pillow because he chose the wrong time to land himself in intensive care, or punch a wall because my mom marked me for an early death when she died giving birth to me. The phone rings for what’s got to be the thirtieth time, and I can’t avoid it any more than I can avoid what’s going down sometime today.

I slide my laptop off my crossed legs and get up from my bed, swaying to the side, feeling really faint. I’m like a zombie moving toward my desk, slow and walking-dead.

The caller ID reads DEATH-CAST, of course.

I’m shaking but manage to press Talk. I don’t say anything.

I’m not sure what to say. I just breathe because I have fewer than twenty-eight thousand breaths left in me—the average number of breaths a nondying person takes per day—and I might as well use them up while I can.

“Hello, I’m calling from Death-Cast. I’m Andrea. You there, Timothy?”

Timothy.

My name isn’t Timothy.

“You’ve got the wrong person,” I tell Andrea. My heart settles down, even though I feel for this Timothy person. I truly do. “My name is Mateo.” I got the name from my father and he wants me to pass it down eventually. Now I can, if having a kid is a thing that happens for me.

Computer keys are tapping on her end, probably correcting the entry or something in her database. “Oh, apologies. Timothy is the gentleman I just got off the phone with; he didn’t take the news very well, poor thing. You’re Mateo Torrez, right?”

And just like that, my last hope is obliterated.

“Mateo, kindly confirm this is indeed you. I’m afraid I have many other calls to make tonight.”

I always imagined my herald—their official name, not mine—would sound sympathetic and ease me into this news, maybe even harp on how it’s especially tragic because I’m so young. To be honest, I would’ve been okay with her being chipper, telling me how I should have fun and make the most of the day since I at least know what’s going to happen. That way I’m not stuck at home starting one-thousand-piece puzzles I’ll never finish or masturbating because sex with an actual person scares me. But this herald makes me feel like I should stop wasting her time because, unlike me, she has so much of it.

“Okay. Mateo’s me. I’m Mateo.”

“Mateo, I regret to inform you that sometime in the next twenty-four hours you’ll be meeting an untimely death. And while there isn’t anything we can do to suspend that, you still have a chance to live.” The herald goes on about how life isn’t always fair, then lists some events I could participate in today. I shouldn’t be mad at her, but it’s obvious she’s bored reciting these lines that have been burned into memory from telling hundreds, maybe thousands, about how they’ll soon be dead. She has no sympathy to offer me. She’s probably filing her nails or playing tic-tac-toe against herself as she talks to me.

On CountDowners, Deckers post entries about everything from their phone call to how they’re spending their End Day. It’s basically Twitter for Deckers. I’ve read tons of feeds where Deckers admitted to asking their heralds how they would die, but it’s basic knowledge that those specifics aren’t available to anyone, not even former President Reynolds, who tried to hide from Death in an underground bunker four years ago and was assassinated by one of his own secret service agents. Death-Cast can only provide a date for when someone is going to die, but not the exact minute or how it’ll happen.

“. . . Do you understand all of this?”

“Yeah.”

“Log on to death-cast.com and fill out any special requests you may have for your funeral in addition to the inscription you’d like engraved on your headstone. Or perhaps you would like to be cremated, in which case . . .”

I’ve only ever been to one funeral. My grandmother died when I was seven, and at her funeral I threw a tantrum because she wasn’t waking up. Fast-forward five years when Death-Cast came into the picture and suddenly everyone was awake at their own funerals. Having the chance to say goodbye before you die is an incredible opportunity, but isn’t that time better spent actually living? Maybe I would feel differently if I could count on people showing up to my funeral. If I had more friends than I do fingers.

“And Timothy, on behalf of everyone here at Death-Cast, we are so sorry to lose you. Live this day to the fullest, okay?”

“I’m Mateo.”

“Sorry about that, Mateo. I’m mortified. It’s been a long day and these calls can be so stressful and—”

I hang up, which is rude, I know. I know. But I can’t listen to someone tell me what a stressful day she’s been having when I might drop dead in the next hour, or even the next ten minutes: I could choke on a cough drop; I could leave my apartment to do something with myself and fall down the stairs and snap my neck before I even make it outside; someone could break in and murder me. The only thing I can confidently rule out is dying of old age.

I sink to the floor, on my knees. It’s all ending today and there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I can’t journey across dragon-infested lands to retrieve scepters that can halt death. I can’t hop onto a flying carpet in search of a genie to grant my wish for a full and simple life. I could maybe find some mad scientist to cryogenically freeze me, but chances are I’d die in the middle of that wacky experiment. Death is inevitable for everyone and it’s absolute for me today.

The list of people I will miss, if the dead can miss anyone, is so short I shouldn’t even call it a list: there’s Dad, for doing his best; my best friend, Lidia, not only for not ignoring me in the hallways, but for actually sitting down across from me in lunch, partnering with me in earth science, and talking to me about how she wants to become an environmentalist who will save the world and I can repay her by living in it. And that’s it.

If someone were interested in my list of people I won’t miss, I’d have nothing for them. No one has ever wronged me. And I even get why some people didn’t take a shot on me. Really, I do. I’m such a paranoid mess. The few times I was invited to do something fun with classmates, like roller-skating in the park or going for a drive late at night, I bowed out because we might be setting ourselves up for death, maybe. I guess what I’ll miss most are the wasted opportunities to live my life and the lost potential to make great friends with everyone I sat next to for four years. I’ll miss how we never got to bond over sleepovers where everyone stayed up and played Xbox Infinity and board games all night, all because I was too scared.

The number one person I’ll miss the most is Future Mateo, who maybe loosened up and lived. It’s hard to picture him clearly, but I imagine Future Mateo trying out new things, like smoking pot with friends, getting a driver’s license, and hopping on a plane to Puerto Rico to learn more about his roots. Maybe he’s dating someone, and maybe he likes that company. He probably plays piano for his friends, sings in front of them, and he would definitely have a crowded funeral service, one that would stretch over an entire weekend after he’s gone—one where the room is packed with new people who didn’t get a chance to hug him one last time.

Future Mateo would have a longer list of friends he’ll miss.

But I will never grow up to be Future Mateo. No one will ever get high with me, no one will be my audience as I play piano, and no one will sit shotgun in my dad’s car after I get my license. I’ll never fight with friends over who gets the better bowling shoes or who gets to be Wolverine when we play video games.

I collapse back onto the floor, thinking about how it’s do or die now. Not even that.

Do, and then die.

12:42 a.m.

Dad takes hot showers to cool down whenever he’s upset or disappointed in himself. I copied him around the time I turned thirteen because confusing Mateo Thoughts surfaced and I needed tons of Mateo Time to sort through them. I’m showering now because I feel guilty for hoping the world, or some part of it beyond Lidia and my dad, will be sad to see me go. Because I refused to live invincibly on all the days I didn’t get an alert, I wasted all those yesterdays and am completely out of tomorrows.

I’m not going to tell anyone. Except Dad, but he’s not even awake so it doesn’t really count. I don’t want to spend my last day wondering if people are being genuine when they throw sad words at me. No one should spend their last hours second-guessing people.

I’ve got to get out into the world, though, trick myself into thinking it is any other day. I’ve got to see Dad at the hospital and hold his hand for the first time since I was a kid and for what will be the last . . . wow, the last time ever.

I’ll be gone before I can adjust to my mortality.

I also have to see Lidia and her one-year-old, Penny. Lidia named me Penny’s godfather when the baby was born, and it sucks how I’m the person expected to take care of her in case Lidia passes away since Lidia’s boyfriend, Christian, died a little over a year ago. Sure, how is an eighteen-year-old with no income going to take care of a baby? Short answer: He isn’t. But I was supposed to get older and tell Penny stories of her world-saving mother and chill father and welcome her into my home when I was financially secure and emotionally prepared to do so. Now I’m being whisked out of her life before I can become more than some guy in a photo album who Lidia may tell stories about, during which Penny will nod her head, maybe make fun of my glasses, and then flip the page to family she actually knows and cares about. I won’t even be a ghost to her. But that’s no reason to not go tickle her one more time or wipe squash and green peas off her face, or give Lidia a little break so she can focus on studying for her GED or brush her teeth or comb her hair or take a nap.

After that, I will somehow pull myself away from my best friend and her daughter, and I will have to go and live.

I turn off the faucet and the water stops raining down on me; today isn’t the day for an hour shower. I grab my glasses off the sink and put them on. I step out of the tub, slipping on a puddle of water, and while falling backward I’m expecting to see if that theory of your life flashing before your eyes carries any truth to it when I grab hold of the towel rack and catch myself. I breathe in and out, in and out, because dying this way would just be an extremely unfortunate way to go; someone would add me to the “Shower KO” feed on the DumbDeaths blog, a high-traffic site that grosses me out on so many levels.

I need to get out of here and live—but first I have to make it out of this apartment alive.

12:56 a.m.

I write thank-you notes for my neighbors in 4F and 4A, telling them it’s my End Day. With Dad in the hospital, Elliot in 4F has been checking in on me, bringing me dinner, especially since our stove has been busted for the past week after I tried making Dad’s empanadas. Sean in 4A was planning on stopping by on Saturday to fix the stove’s burner, but it’s not necessary anymore. Dad will know how to fix it and might need a distraction when I’m gone.

I go into my closet and pull out the blue-and-gray flannel shirt Lidia got me for my eighteenth birthday, then put it on over my white T-shirt. I haven’t worn it outside yet. The shirt is how I get to keep Lidia close today.

I check my watch—an old one of Dad’s he gave me after buying a digital one that could glow, for his bad eyes—and it’s close to 1:00 a.m. On a regular day, I would be playing video games until late at night, even if it meant going to school exhausted. At least I could fall asleep during my free periods. I shouldn’t have taken those frees for granted. I should’ve taken up another class, like art, even though I can’t draw to save my life. (Or do anything to save my life, obviously, and I want to say that’s neither here nor there, but it pretty much is everything, isn’t it?) Maybe I should’ve joined band and played piano, gotten some recognition before working my way up to singing in the chorus, then maybe a duet with someone cool, and then maybe braving a solo. Heck, even theater could’ve been fun if I’d gotten to play a role that forced me to break out. But no, I elected for another free period where I could shut down and nap.

It’s 12:58 a.m. When it hits 1:00 I am forcing myself out of this apartment. It has been both my sanctuary and my prison and for once I need to go breathe in the outside air instead of tearing through it to get from Point A to Point B. I have to count trees, maybe sing a favorite song while dipping my feet in the Hudson, and just do my best to be remembered as the young man who died too early.

It’s 1:00 a.m.

I can’t believe I’m never returning to my bedroom.

I unlock the front door, turn the knob, and pull the door open.

I shake my head and slam the door shut.

I’m not walking out into a world that will kill me before my time.

  Original post: http://ift.tt/2eDnsAY

from Blogger http://ift.tt/2j0X3C4

#Blogger

[itain]

long.. complaint post essentially

id say rant but its less anger than just.. despair i guess

oh god i feel at this moment.... very hopeless

ive just kinda been frozen since i got home,,, talked some, ate dinner, etc... but there is so much i need to get done but i {feel i} cant do until i finish one thing in particular...... like so many rows stacked up in tetris that all get cleared with the one block that fits them all... i mean perhaps nobody thinks its that big a deal,,, idk......... i just feel like i cant breath... literally it feels like my chest is a bit tight just thinking of all this shit stressing me... like once i finally get one thing done turns out its not done and i had 10 more things to do as well... i feel that in the time it takes for me to take one step, i’m pushed back like 20 paces....

you know when you have so much stressing you that you play games or just fucking fill your mind with static to pretend nothing is wrong?? you waste time having fun while the stress just looms next to you all day every day?? thats like my usual state of being.... and here is the other end.. where things come crashing down, and im panicking, and im frozen because i can never solve things, i have to find an order in the chaos, and at this point everything immidiately turns negative and i wonder why im even alive rn... i like that ive written this much and still remained so vague.......... SIGH

uh lets see i mean its mostly all just financial shit

the biggest block rn is the fucking gym... gee am i getting so damn sick of this shit.... i am ready to sccream over this fucking gym...... ive been trying to quit almost since ive started... i FINALLY send the shit i need to on time..... and they didnt do it???? so i need to call them tomorrow asking why they havent drafted the quitting fee, and im sure theyll ask if i did the fucking secure mail where i get notified when they recieve it, and no i didnt bc i dont have money, and they will come up with some bullshit excuse reason why i cant quit still, and at that point ill want to scream and cry, i fucking wish that could solve my problem??? why cant i be like my dad who yells at the customer service people on the phone till they solve everything for free???? why cant i ask that of him now?? thoughts like these... who let me be an adult, how will i not get fucked out of shit because im a fucking pushover who just wants to please everyone and be polite.....

then lets see.......... the student loans..... the big issue with this... i mean 50 bucks a month starting in october... i mean we will fucking see if i have the money... considering im already drowning now, i fucking doubt, but my biggest concern is the logistics... what amount am i paying back? how do i know that its set up to draft out of my account??? questions i dont want to ask anyone because i’ll feel like a fucking idiot and i’ll just cry about it instead pls.... so i’ll just rot till october tyvm...

and what else... my biggest fear is the combination of these two, that i cant quit the gym and im paying like 75 fucking bucks a month for two things that have made my life nothing but hell...

but i think the other biggest stressor is the small shit adding up rn... for like 2+ months (i havent really counted but i know its been a long time now) my phone isnt working without a charger.... and to even get it replaced for a working model is like 75 bucks.. id buy some shit phone but thats 20 bucks that can be spent towards surviving... like, see above bills.... oh and id switch to an old phone of mine to even ask if thats possible would fucking cost money bc metro pcs wont answer shit without seeing money first ugh.. its made all communication and leisure time way more difficult as im chained to the wall and only a few short times a day for either.... so setting aside that, ill just fucking pray for that for christmas orz the other “small shit”...... oil needs to be changed on the car,,, means i have to find some time to buy oil, figure out what fucking oil to buy, where to buuy, if i have the money, etc... communicate with coworker friend and get a day we both have off so her friend?? can change my oil for me for free, bless.... but thats not even possible till i get back from my vacation.... so a week or two..... then we have the registration sticker that needs to be updated before september,,,, 80 to 85 bucks my dad said... that obv cant be updated with a code on my car so again, it has to wait a couple weeks... even driving with a code on my car gives me such anxiety...

so moving on to.... i guess the tiny shit that isnt as big problems but only have become such because im mega stressed..... thought i had finished the laundry... found another bag orz... apartment much more disorganized than i thought.. you know how order in the home gives a certain peace of mind.... and vise versa.... bf and i are fucking depressed and at least i want pills but that is a faraway dream rn, booking a fucking appointment, much less having $$ for a perscription????? trying to work out then losing motivation so quickly as always... but because i want to dedicate my energy towards cleaning this place... which just somehow never happens.... just never seeing a way to save money??? ive been so damn frugal and i still cant pay my bills and here i am with more bills, meanwhile my dad posting his stupid fucking bullshit on facebook about “choose happiness” like money doesnt have a fucking say in the matter.... and all the low self esteem and negative thoughts that accompany all this situation... wanting to “do something nice because ive been having a hard life/week” and then still feeling like shit, or feeling guilty for having spent anything then complaining about money...

i guess last thing i wanted to touch on..... the vacation... bfs mom takes me with them on their family vacations.... honestly i feel like the goth in the prep family? like im too much drama to make them happy.. ive been pretty open with her about my feelings towards my dad and stepmom, mostly bc she is super giving and nice and agrees with me against them.. and recently ive been more open, like about my depression even... and like... she even said she would get me a scrip... like....... i just.. this kind of thing, the vacations, the covering my half of rent, even while she doesnt have a job rn (she is rich but tighter on $$ now so) but i feel so guilty accepting it.. like if i justify it, then arent i being too greedy?? but i literally cant refuse it, or i’d be on the street right now so..... but i just feel like she owns me... if i were her daughter i think id be more okay but like... if john and i break up she put like, thousands into SOME CHICK.... i feel like in the far future i’ll need to write her a check too;; i told bf i wasnt rly feeling the vacation... of course because of the neverending drama surrounding me (yeah yeah im not saying drama is drawn to me, yeah i create it okay) this will just kinda strain more the relationship and they’ll all think i have some issue with them or smth that i gotta ruin every family trip... so i’ll just go.. but like... self esteem is out the window, so i wont want any pics.. i doubt bf will either, we both have gained so much weight, and i have perma acne that gets worse by the day, and i cant even afford to get my hair cut or colored again so its just this grown out mess.... then in the other respect of a vacation... i think ill just be worried the whole time about my finances... i mean i wont be able to spend money on anything so -shrugs- i get to just look at a bunch of nice things, thinking “i wish” or feel the guilt of her wanting to get it for me.... oh god yeah and same things w my friends.... i want to hang with them?? but i dont have money for shit??? and every time they pay for smth i die inside bc when will i even be able to pay them back its the same thing but theyre poor TT

anyways i guess thats most of it..... i guess im feeling tired maybe ill just pass out watching some youtube videos.... i was wanting to get a drawing done but ~*the cycle of feeling like shit*~ will occur worse then...

#negative #long post #dont read #sorry i exist #i wish i didnt too #the shit thing is even writing this out and posting im like... #its like there is two of me and one is saying you just want attention.. you want pity. you want money. #well fuck i want happiness but ill get what i can i guess