#Feel completely invalidated and like I should just stop feeling weirded out and man up and discourage this man in words— | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neko-rogers · 4 years ago

Text

But It’s Better If You Do

Trying to keep your relationship with your professor was easy enough, until you learned that someone had found out about it.

words: 7,424 tags: manipulative!peter, explicit noncon/dubcon elements, degredation, implied overstimulation, blackmailing, kidnapping, college student and professor relationship,

a/n: whew this had a lot of words compared to what i usually write. plus, since im bad at titles, i’ll just use my fav song titles lmao. (ps. erik lehnsherr aka magneto is here and im just glad i could put him in my little fictional world bc im d biggest slut for him)

A complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

The man in front of the class was practically pouring his heart out into the lecture. The chalkboard was filled with white letterings from left to right, not knowing where to start as you take down notes.

“It is important to keep in mind that bimolecular structure and function are dictated by the properties of the medium in which they are dissolved,” your professor explains while continually pacing from one end to the other among the students seated at the first row.

You decided to seat around the middle to the last row, knowing it was the least obvious way for other students in the class to notice how much you fawn over your Organic Chemistry professor rather than the subject itself.

Honestly you could listen to him talk for hours. All those information he had been discussing would not actually process through your thoughts. You knew that better than anyone.

But who honestly would invalidate your reason? Everyone can probably relate to hating Chemistry, no matter what subcategory it is.

Considering that this was probably one of the most difficult courses you had in your program. You were just thankful and lucky enough you landed on one of the hottest professors amongst the campus.

“Hey what did Professor Lehnsherr say about the problems during synthesis of proteins?” Peter asks.

In spite of being fortunate about everything else about this subject, you were not quite happy about Peter Parker following you around like a lost puppy. Especially during the classes you both have alike.

The boy constantly asks so much questions as if you were the teacher already. In addition, he seemed smart enough to figure things out yet somehow he keeps on bugging you for reassurance.

You did not want to be rude. He has not done anything to completely deserve your rage, however he was definitely getting on your nerves.

Honestly you would not want to be infuriated over his consistent queries, but you were just as distracted as he was, maybe even more. With this, you were looking dumber to him each day.

To anyones pride, it was probably a kick in the stomach. You knew you were not the brightest in this class, but it was best to leave the information to yourself. No need for anyone to point out how mindless you were.

And you really were not. You had other Science subjects you totally excel at. Sadly, Chemistry was just not one of them.

“Well, uh, I don’t think I got that part either.” You look aside where he was seated and awkwardly smiled at him before mentioning an apology, “Sorry, Peter.”

In return, Peter smiled at you and dismissed the question. You were not so sure whether to forget about it or take even the least bit of offense. You felt a little mocked by how easily he did it and innocently he smiled, but maybe you were just overthinking this through.

“It’s fine,” he tells. “I just didn’t get the third bullet, but I’ll try to review it in the textbook when I get home.”

“Oh okay, sure.”

“Speaking about reviewing,” Again, Peter tries to start another discourse.

“I was wondering if you got reviewers for the upcoming text for next week? We all know how difficult Professor Lehnsherr’s exams can get, right?” He lets out a forced chuckle, assuming it could lighten the mood.

As much as he tried to make small talks with you, almost everyday, today you really feel like you did not want to return the favor. Especially after having to bring up the test next week.

“I don’t really make reviewers, I usually just scan the books I have at home.”

Lies. You probably have a box full of index cards and sticky notes in your room.

You tried to use every studying tips every corner of the Internet could give. All those study-life hacks that really did not help much but pile up to your disorganized state of mind.

You fucking tried to study Chemistry. You really did.

“What, you don’t?!” He suddenly exclaims, not realizing the loudness of his voice as it almost caught the attention from people at front. “You seem to be busy all the time though. It’s like I always catch your writing or reading something in class.”

Maybe your mood was just off but it definitely seemed weird for him to say that. Though, you did not want to make something from what he said. It was not worth your time.

“I guess people are not always what they seem to be, yeah?”

Again, Peter gives out that soft chuckle and smile, “Then I guess so. You do make a point.”

He does not argue with you any further.

“Can I at least borrow your Physics book? I only bought Chemistry and Biotech for the semester. Didn’t know they would actually utilize it for once,” he scoffs.

At first you hesitated. You were reviewing for it too, but you already felt bad for being no help whenever he asks a question and often times disregarding him when your mood if off. Plus, you did just make it look like you were not much of a study-freak.

“Okay.”

He instinctively fist pumps the air and looks at you with a wide, grateful grin. “Thank you so much. You’re a lifesaver, Y/N.”

“Don’t mention it.” You grab the book he needs from your bag and hands it to him. He accepts it and places it inside his while also clearing the rest of his things.

Looking at his digital wristwatch wherein he raised his index finger up as if he figured something out of it, he says, “He’s going to dismiss the class in a few minutes. We should get ready for Cell Biology next period.

Oh how you hated it. Were you jumping to conclusions? Or was this boy really trying to be too close with you? Or was he just being nice and informing you to prepare ahead?

God, you did not give Peter Parker the right to cloud up your thoughts like this.

“Thanks,” you say, “but I need to talk to Professor Lehnsherr after class. Have to, uh, consult him about my concept paper that he made us submit last week.”

As he tidies his notebooks up and carelessly shoves it inside his backpack, he immediately looks back at you with a confused expression, “Oh, I can always wait for you–”

“It’s fine, Peter. Thank you though.” Two of your hands were instinctively waving in front of you, a meek gesture for him to stop coddling you or whatever move he had been trying to make at you.

“Are you sure? I–”

And if you were ought to be saved further from lashing out over Peter’s incessant attempts, you finally heard the words any student was longing to hear. “Class dismissed. I’ll see you all on Monday.”

“Eri–err, Professor Lensherr just dismissed the class. Better catch up to him before he heads out,” you hurriedly said. And with a loud slam from your notebook, you quickly shut him out. In addition, you practically shoved every thing in front of you into your bag without sparing a second glance.

One strap of your back was slung over your shoulder as you hurriedly flew down the aisle. Professor Lehnsherr was midway into packing his things before you interrupted and approached him.

“Professor,” you call out. “I have a question. About the paper I handed in last week.”

“Uhuh.” He faintly furrows his eyebrows, trying to hide his already obvious bewilderment. “I forgot which assignment was that, Ms. Y/L/N.”

There were students still exiting in class. So you tried your best to make your conversation with him less suspicious. He was most likely doing the same.

“It was about the Chemistry-proposal thing.” You snapped your fingers a few times as you gathered your train of thought, but realizing it was not going effectively. “Well I just wanted to confirm it since, you know, I was hoping for any feedback from you throughout this week.”

“I’m not sure if I have read it. I’ve certainly been busy this week,” he clarifies. “Nonetheless, we can talk about it later. Thank you for bringing it up. I’ll make sure to follow it up in my schedule, Ms. Y/N.”

Both of you made your way out the door once there were only a minuscule amount of students left in class. You probably had been looking at your professor with gushing stares, but you doubt the other people in the room could notice it. They were farther away from where both of you stood, much less would they be able to hear what the two of your were talking about.

“Oh thank you so much, sir!” You almost cried out and jumped in joy while reaching through the threshold. Moreover, you composed yourself before mumbling out, “I’ll see you later, Eric.”

In which you were certain no one would have heard it besides him.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

“I’m sure you’ll get a good grade in the exams, Y/N,” Eric leans back to his seat with a humble smile upon his face.

“Really? I doubt so, there’s a kid in your class that keeps bugging me out to a study date, or whatever you call it,” you sneer. You lick your lips as you finish taking a sip around the wine glass, setting it down and looking back at the man you were having dinner with. “It’s getting very annoying though, he surely knows how to get on my nerves.”

“I’m sure he’s just trying to flirt with you, like any other college boys do.” He optimistically and maturely lays out the options. “It’s pretty normal for anyone to chase someone they are fond of, especially for young adults like you.”

It was a pretty obvious sign that he was trying to let his message reach you.

“Well, I apologize for my standards of men,” you say. “I just want to skip the whole heartbreak in college and character development. All that stuff you usually see in a typical teen romance movie.”

You sigh, looking down and saying, “I already found a man for me. Why would I stoop down for some guy who’s most likely wanting something from me, and dumping me once he got what he wanted.”

“Y/N, I don’t blame you for liking men that’s ten years older than you,” Eric assures. “But I want you to realize that you still have a lot to look forward after graduating

“And I look forward for you too!” You tried to not raise your voice, though having dinner in his house wouldn’t really catch anyones attention. “I can’t wait to finally graduate from second semester and be able to spend more time, publicly, with you.”

“Yes, I understand, honey.” He places his hand over yours as he tries to calm you down. “Like I said, I just want you to make sure that you’ve clearly thought this through.”

Eric adds, “There’s plenty of men out there. I don’t want to take away your opportunity of experiencing something new at such a young age.”

“I’m turning twenty-four! I promise you I’m thinking everything through.” Your voice was much weaker than a few seconds ago. The evident tone of strength fades even with one glance from the man in front of you. You felt yourself shrink in your seat. But you were sure he does not intend to frighten you into compliance.

“Sorry,” you pout. “Didn’t mean to raise my voice.”

“I understand, and I won’t pressure you any more tonight, okay?” He tries to uplift your mood, detecting quickly the shift of the room’s atmosphere. “You deserve a good dinner tonight, like I promised, sweetie.”

His smile made you calmer. It was then that you realized why you were attracted to a man like him even if he was still your teacher.

The way he handles you in any given situation so sensibly. Though it may feels intimidating at first, he consequently tries to override the tone of the conversation which cheers you up.

With one hand, he hold yours and gently draws it towards him at the same moment he leans his head down. Eric presses a kiss against the back of your hand and you butterflies immediately fill inside your stomach. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Every doubt you had entirely disappeared now. If there were hints of you hesitating to continue seeing Eric, they were certainly long gone now.

“Let me drive you home after dinner,” he offers, like the gentleman he is.

Eric always does make sure you get home safe. However, you both agreed that he drops you off at least a block away from your house. Just in case people around your neighborhood might catch you, or worse your parents.

It was not like you were ashamed of your relationship with Eric. Cautious was the term.

You were only a few months in seeing him. Fair enough, he was your second semester professor and the both of you met before that period.

You were not only risking the wrath of your parents once they hear you’re dating an older man, let alone your Chemistry teacher. But you were also putting him at risk if ever his faculty finds out.

Eventually, the two of you pack up and end your conversation. Other than talking about college, the two of you also talk more about yourselves which has progressed you into learning more about each other’s personalities and likes.

He helps you out of his house and into the passenger seat of his car. It had been more than thrice wherein he drove you home, and the familiar scent of leather and the typical Glad air fresheners has clung onto your nose. You strap on your seatbelt on just as he was getting inside the driver’s side.

The ride was not entirely dead silent. Eric made a few more small talks before finally turning a right which was where he usually drops you off. It amazes you how instantly he remembered the way to your home, as you instructed him the first time.

“Thank you for tonight, like always, Eric.”

As always, you made your way out of his car prior to giving him a kiss. You only had to walk straight ahead, glancing at your home which had one dim light illuminating through one window.

Upon entering the house, you figured your parents were already asleep and a hint of the living room lamp was present. Taking the benefit of not having to be interrogated by anyone, you rushed upstairs to your bedroom, turned on the lights, and immediately closed the door behind you with a sigh of relief. A smile was also visible after recalling your night with Eric.

As you made your way towards your bed, a piece of paper lays obvious in the middle of it. Your sheets were flattened and tidied, so you could obviously detect when something is placed on top of it. You have no memory of leaving it early in the morning before you left too.

When picking the paper up, you realized it was a piece of polaroid film. Its back was facing you, having no idea what to expect at the front.

At that point, the smile from your face turned into horror and all the color in you basically drained away.

The picture displayed you and Eric at one dinner night out from a few days ago, you still remember. It could have been anything but malicious, but the way his hand was intertwined with yours as both of you laugh away without worries. It was clear as day, the light shining perfectly at the both of you. Anyone can conclude what was happening in the picture.

You did not know this day would come. The picture was taken from Eric’s home to prevent such things like this from happening. So it puzzled you just as much at it terrified you.

This was definitely someone who had been stalking either one of you. It was not a mere instance like paparazzis who catch celebrities dating on the streets of New York.

Someone definitely have been observing the two of you.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

Days have passed, a week almost. Examinations are scheduled for tomorrow.

And you prayed that the picture you received would be the only thing terrorizing your dreams. But you were completely wrong.

From thereon, you started to receive more pictures, specifically one every morning and night, from your past hangouts with Eric. It were simple shots but had the power to completely jeopardize either one of you, mostly him at stake though.

It was obvious that the person behind this was definitely observing the two of you for a while. Probably even during the most earliest weeks when your relationship with him started.

Though it may seem unfair, you did not mention anything about it to Eric. It was enough the he was keeping with you, his job, and himself private – which clearly was not working out so well. You felt like it was your responsibility to handle this situation. You were so sure you did not try to publicize anything and kept it on the low.

Nevertheless, it was out there. Eric had not mentioned anything so you assumed he did not receive a picture like you did.

Currently, you were seated at the farthest row at the back of the room, somewhat near the corner. Physics was your last subject and you could not wait but finally leave.

In addition, you texted Eric that you would not be seeing him until after the exams. It was an easy excuse not to see him, saying that you wanted to focus on studying for it; however, you knew that you would just be busy thinking about the creepy stalker gallery you have been receiving.

“Hey.” Unsurprisingly, a familiar voice whispers next to you which disrupts your heavy train of thoughts. “You finished studying for tomorrow? I’m about to end my review with Chemistry later.”

“Cool.” Probably the one of the most basic replies in the universe. “I haven’t finished studying, I’m kind of dealing with a lot of things recently.”

You made sure to generalize your answer, but enough for him to sympathize and at least give you some space.

“Oh, sorry to hear about that.” Peter frowns. He takes his seat a few desks away from your left, leaving you to continue thinking. You were thankful for his gesture too.

Surprisingly enough the boy barely bothered you for the entire lecture. You were still engrossed on finding out whoever was stalking you, even so dating back to boys you evidently rejected during the first semester – who badmouthed you immediately afterwards. There were not a lot of names, so it was easy to remember who was who.

You traced back to each boy and remembered what they said after you told them you were not ready to enter a relationship – a complete lie, you just did not want to deal with college fuck boys.

Just as you expected from any of them, rumors have spread out about you which was mostly shaming you physically or mentally. Some were milder insults than the other yet at the end of the day you did not care.

“Fuck,” you whisper to yourself. “Who was that boy at Liz’s party.”

Your eyes were sealed shut, recalling a list of names while using your thumb and middle finger to massage your temples. It was getting frustrating and mentally exhausting.

After some time, you had so much word filling in and our of your brain that you were not aware that your own name was being called. Your heart practically skipped a beat after hearing it the first time, assuming that you were being called to recite an answer. But you became content after seeing that it was just Peter, who started tapping your arm to get your attention.

“Huh?” You lightly shake your head before turning your head aside.

“Oh, class was dismissed a few minutes earlier than usual–”

“Don’t forget to answer the assignment regarding thermodynamic concepts found it the book. You’ll hand it in immediately on Wednesday.” The professor addresses the class as they were already carrying their bags and themselves out the room.

You start placing your stationeries inside yours, packing your other things up until it was only a pair of earphones and your phone left in front. Peter stood near the aisle while looking at you just as you were zipping your bag shut.

“Oh shoot, I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he states out of nowhere causing you to furrow your eyebrows at him. “I forgot I still haven’t returned your Physics book I borrowed last week.”

Nodding your head and standing up, you shrug it off. “It’s fine. You can return it tomorrow.”

“Sure, but how will you do your Physics assignment?”

Oh yeah. Your professor literally reminded the class a few seconds ago.

“I think I might be able to do it overnight. How many pages is the task?”

“Eight, or nine I think.” He frowns looking very guilty at you.

“Shit,” you swore. That was a lot of pages than the usual assignments given.

“Yeah, professor said it could help add points if you somehow get a bad grade at the tests.”

“Never mind,” you tried to set his mistake aside. “I’ll try to do it within overnight tomorrow. I can ask for help from my friend tomorrow morning and–”

“Wait! I realized you can stop by my apartment to get it.”

“Oh–er, Peter, I don’t think I have time to–

“It’s just nearby the campus, I promise,” he assures and adds, “it wouldn’t be a hassle, it’s probably on your way home anyway so it won’t make a difference.”

“Uhm.” You were doubtful of him.

However, you did realize that you did not have anything to do after class. You were keeping distance with Eric for the meantime which meant that your schedule was mostly vacant after this.

“Please,” he begs, “I feel so bad for keeping it the whole week. I swear it’s like a few blocks from here.”

“Would it take more than twenty minutes?” You purse your lips, convincing yourself that you would rather force yourself to study at home than spend it at someone’s apartment.

“I only take around ten minutes to walk so,” he answers. “Unless you’re a slow walker, of course.” The tone of his voice seeming to be joking.

Again, he pleads. This kid will not fucking budge.

“Fine,” you blurt out. Though, you realized your sudden-almost lash out moment at the boy that you made sure to reiterate it but slower, “I mean, sure. I can stop by your apartment to pick up my book.”

An awaited smile and sense of agreement washes over you.

Peter then leads the way as you walked behind him, maintaining a short distance so people would not throw out any suspicious looks. Like in every college, everyone knows just how fast gossips formulate and rumors spread.

If you think about it though, it might avert anyone’s suspicion – mainly pertaining to your creepy stalker – with you and your Professor. But you were not prepared for that yet, maybe some time when you can finally think about its consequences through.

True to his word, as the both of you exited the campus, it took a short time before the boy in front of you told that you were about to enter through the entrance to the building of his apartment. You were not so sure if it was really a momentary walk or because you were so focused on thinking and keeping a distance.

At some points he did often look back in case you got lost from following him. Plus, like always, he asked you simple questions either about your day or your subjects to make small talk. In which case, you were barely answering him but definitely progressed compared to when he attempted for previous times during class.

In addition, as the two of you walked down the block, the number of faces you could only assume was in college decreased. Meaning that the glares at you eased up.

“Well, here’s my location.” A loud huff follows as he uses a key to unlock the door for the entrance to the building, “It wasn’t that far, was it?”

“Yeah, I guess it wasn’t that far.” You agree as he holds the door for you and then walks right after you.

As Peter leads you upstairs onto around the fourth level, he proceeds to walk along the corridors. The array of same beige colored doors with small golden indents of unit numbers paraded along it too. Eventually he stops and inserts a key into the lock, twisting it until hearing the unlocking sound.

For a moment you hesitated to follow him. You just wanted your book and you were sure he can give it to you on a shorter span than your walk from campus to here. Was it that troublesome?

Entering his complex, you discovered how minimalistic it looked. To be fair it seemed quite small, the living room instantly greeting you through the entrance and a kitchenette at the side. But since his things were tidied up, it looked roomy.

You instinctively close the door behind you, slightly aware that it did not create a locking sound. Following Peter, you took a few more steps until you stood still at the passageway between his living room and entryway.

“Do you want a drink?” Peter asks.

“No thank you.” You were still trying to subtle. “I just want my Physics book, Peter. Please?”

He looked at you and paused for a split second. You could feel the frown behind the expressionless look. “Yeah. Okay. Sure,” he nods for a few times before turning around and proceeding to a seemingly narrow hallway. “I’ll get it in my room. Be back in a second.”

Your feet faintly paced back and forth, still where you stood a few meters between the entrance and living room. After a few more minutes, Peter emerges carrying the familiar book with one hand.

He approaches you within a few stops but stops in his tracks, leaving a distance from you. “Well uh,” he starts as his chin was tucked.

“I just want to tell you something before I hand you back your book.” He looks up at you with really pleading eyes. During other instances in university, you were definitely familiar with that look. However, this one probably ranked as one of the most downhearted ones.

You did not want to feel regretful for him. Though it definitely feels like you just kicked a puppy.

“Was is it?”

“I love you,” he blurts out as his face goes back from hiding and looking down.

It seemed awkward. You were somewhat expecting it, but you were also hoping that this day would not come – or not at least until you graduate and leave the university.

“Oh.” You honestly did not want to react.

Were you going to say sorry? How about thank you? Would it be better if you said you did not like him back? Or will the best response be that you are already taken?

“Peter, I–”

“Are you really dating Eric?” He shots up with eyes appearing almost teary.

What. The. Fuck.

“No,” you mutter. It was not much of an answer to his question. It was more on being quite horrified as your mind started jumping to conclusions.

The amount of things running around your mind right now was immeasurable.

Firstly, anyone could make two and two out of what he said, especially knowing that no one knows it even so around your circle of friends.

Secondly, you should have thought better. Your doubts with Peter should have been grater and you totally underestimated him. However, some part of you prayed that he was just an annoyingly awkward nerd who follows his friends regarding flirting tips.

Lastly, you turned around and ran.

You probably got your way with opening the door and taking two steps out. It was not long before you felt arms wrap around your waist and either side of your arms. You were then lifted and pulled behind while you tried to kick at the air as an escape. Did not work though.

Peter was surprisingly stronger than you thought. He already seemed fairly muscular at class, hiding behind those long sleeved sweaters and flannels.

Eventually the last thing you remember was the image of the door of his apartment open while you get sucked into the room further. Everything went black afterwards.

.・゜-: ✧ :-　　-: ✧ :-゜・．

When you felt that you were slowly restoring to consciousness, you were aware of the pounding at the back of your head and your arms.

You tried to move your hands, wanting to press against the parts of your body that were aching. But you felt incapacitated as your wriggled your wrists around and felt an unfamiliar sticky fluid enveloping around them.

“Glad you’re awake,” a voice says. “Does your head hurt?”

You tried to open your eyes, the dark lighting of the room not cooperating with your vision. A light from the window and a lamp were the only things that helped you form something out of the void.

From there you saw Peter Parker sitting closely beside you at the edge of the bed.

Hell please let this be a nightmare.

“What–” You groan, “What do you want from me.”

Your mind was building up your anger yet your body says otherwise. You felt exhausted and heavy.

Peter shushed you in a caring manner, “We’ll talk when you feel better. I’ll let you get more rest okay, sweetie?”

“Uhh.”

That was what you could remember the most. If you have awoken for other times in between your sleep, then you surely did not have an idea of it.

When you finally woke up, the level of your grogginess felt little to none already. You looked around and saw that the room was still dark and seemingly still nighttime.

As your head was twisting from side to side, you saw Peter appear from the doorway carrying a translucent cup filled with water in one hand. “Hey, you’re finally awake.”

Instead of replying to him, your wrists writhe beneath the fluid that you are still not familiar of. You could not really look up to get a good view of what it was, but it was wet, sticky, and felt like super glue.

On the other hand, both your legs, ankles, and feet were free. The back of your thighs bounced against the bed as you struggled, but it would not do much since your arms were practically stuck.

“Fuck,” you grumble.

“That won’t help. You’re pretty much stuck there,” he says, Then he takes a seat at the edge of the bed, alike where you remembered him positioned from earlier, “Might as well talk to me until I let you go.”

“Okay then, when will you let me go?” Your voice was calm hoping you could talk your way out of this mess.

“If you behave for me like a good girl, okay?”

Shivers went up your spine as you cringed at his statement.

Immediately, your mood shifts from calm to furious after hearing his disturbing bargain. Then purposely rolling your eyes for him to see. “How the hell will I behave if you’re a creepy stalker! You disgust me!”

Peter hums, displaying a look wherein he seems like he was thinking. You were not sure if it was sarcastic or not, either way it annoyed the hell out of you. “Creepy stalker sounds overstated, it was more on being curious.”

You scoff as well as exclaim, “You sent me photographs of me and Eric at his house! Fucking hell, Peter.”

“Oh yeah that part.” He slyly pouts his lips to the side as he comes to realize what he had done, “I guess it was a bit creepy–” “What do you mean a bit? That was invasion of privacy!”

Despite being trapped, both your hands balled into a fist, feeling very furious at his dense answers. “I was living my own life! I kept my relationships to myself,” you cry out.

“Yes, but you weren’t completely living your life,” he whispers while gently combing his hair through the front of your hair. “You deserve much more than someone who couldn’t proudly tell that you’re his girl. Is he even a man? Do you really enjoy that kind of life, sweetie?”

“We were happy,” you weep. The evident crack on your voice was a signal that you were about to cry though you were not sure if it was because you were held hostage or because you were worried for Eric.

No one would understand your situation with him right now. Especially Peter.

“Trust me you weren’t,” he scoffs. “You deserve so much more, and I can give you that.”

“I’d rather be alone forever than be with you, asshole!” Your voice was inconsistent, clearly affected by how fast Peter’s mood also shifts quickly.

You also figured you were not looking entirely fresh while crumbling beneath him. Drops of tears and sweat were all over your face and neck, both your eyelids felt swollen, and your nose was almost stuffed.

Peter stand from the edge of the bed and advances to his desk from the side. A harsh bang echoed throughout the room as your body twitched out of shock.

“What does that dick have that I don’t?!” He grits his teeth as the curves of his jaw intensifies. A displeased look was written all over his face.

“P-please let me go.”

“I need you to answer, sweetie. We going nowhere unless you answer!” He was never going to let you go if you were not going to cooperate.

Every step he takes closer back to the bed just increases your heart beat further. He had rolled the sleeves of his sweater up to the edge of his elbows and you felt threatened looking at how firm his arms looked.

“Peter, p-please,” you hiccup.

As Peter returns to the edge of the bed, he does not hesitate anymore to keep a distance. His hands hover to either sides over your body and sets the left side of his head on your midriff, laying while also getting a good view of your vulnerable state.

He does not even look life he was struggling to make an effort to keep you down, but you could feel how heavy he was and was barely giving you a chance to move around.

“I can give you so much more, Y/N.” The way his gaze directs at you was definitely one of the creepiest things you have experienced. He had so much emotions yet completely lacked sympathy for your state of mind.

Shutting your eyes, you only cried further. You felt a hand cup one of your cheeks as its thumb wipes away the pouring tears. Like a broken record, you only pleaded more, “Please let me go.”

“I can’t.”

“Why.” You bawled, realizing he has no plans of releasing you anytime soon despite it. “I won’t tell anyone about this, I p-promise.”

“I know that,” he says, “but you’re going to run back to Eric, probably tell him too, right?”

You did not want to answer, merely shaking your head as you resisted a cry from your lips. It was somewhat what you had planned, but now you were just scared shitless.

“You won’t tell anyone but him cause no one knows about it other than you two, right?” He corners your words.

“Eric would lose his job if someone, especially your parents find out, right?” Hell he was correct. He most likely had been stalking you for so long to find out about it.

“You love him so much, you wouldn’t want to hinde

It was terrifying that someone had been learning about you and your life for a while without your awareness.

“Please stop. What do you want... money?” you whimper.

Peter did not seem likes normal college boy; he does not think like one, too, for sure. Anyone with a right mind would not do something like what he did. No one would have the guts to do so.

“I just want you, Y/N. I want to give you what you deserve,” Peter answers as he sits up and leans his face closer to yours. His mouth leaves a small gap from your right ear as he whispers, “Let me make you feel good.”

“No–”

He cuts off your plea with a proposition, “If you let me, I might consider letting you free.”

“You want that, right? Want me to let you go...” His hand combs through the other side of your face, “just let me show you that I can do way better than him.”

Every ounce of your blood was trying not to give in. You were smart, you ought to find a way out of this. However, you realized that it will not be enough. You already struggled so much from the super glue around your wrists and you could not imagine how much more would it take now that Peter was on top of you.

Eventually you stopped struggling and let him be. There was no way out of this than to let him do what he pleases.

You feel his lips press against your ear first and then progresses over your cheek. His grip around your arms loosen after detecting that you stopped struggling beneath him. You could feel him smile on your skin, “That’s it, relax for me. Good girl.”

His hand reaches to undo your pants as his lips drifted on yours to force their way on making out with you. Another hand then presses under your jaw and throat. “P-Peter,” you choke, feeling lightheaded after being unable to breath properly though your mouth until the grip had loosen.

“Sorry, babe.”

He soon descends from your face to your neck and collar region. You were so sure he was leaving marks on you as you felt him suck and nibble against your skin. Like a controlling asshole he was, you expect to see bruises on your skin by tomorrow.

Despite having your hands fastened, he still moves your shirt upwards past your head. It halts and hands loosely around your arms as you emerge topless beneath the boy.

“Fucking beautiful,” Peter compliments your body under his breath.

Although he seemed to have time on his hands, he does not leave a second wasted. He also goes to haul your pants past your legs and ankles. The growing look of impatience on his face says it all.

Peter moves from your side and welcomes himself between your legs. He spreads them out to have enough space for his body and you could not feel more embarrassed than this.

You grit your teeth over each other as you felt him press fingers against your cunt. Instinctively, you clench around nothing as he continues to play with your entrance, making sure you get entirely soaked under his touch.

“You know you shouldn’t hold back. I know you’re loving it so far, your body says otherwise,” he teases before laying on his stomach and moving his head closer to your pussy.

Without a warning, he licks a strip of you making the back of your thighs quake lightly. Peter senses your reaction and continues to do so, using his tongue to play around and poke inside of you until you were slowly giving in without even realizing it.

Just as you thought you were getting used to his actions, he then inserts fingers inside you, feeling your warmth around it as he pushes it in and out.

“Oh,” you moan.

He continues, making sure he also does not leave your bud of nerves behind. The tip of his fingers and tongue alternate on playing against it, making you throw back your head out of pleasure.

“I bet he doesn’t please you like this,” he scoffs.

Eventually, at your vulnerable state, you could already feel yourself closing to an orgasm. Your toes curled as your temples throbbed, sealing your eyes shut as you accepted on giving in.

You bit onto your lower lip, trying to resist a moan. Somewhere inside you, you were still trying to fight back and not let Peter have the satisfaction he had been craving.

“You’re being so tight... Just let it out.” He coaxes and you hate how you did what he told you so.

The extensive grin on his face seemed priceless. He pulled back and you were aware that you seemed exhausted beneath him. You assumed he was done with whatever he wanted to do with you.

But when he started to take off his sweater and unbutton his pants, you realized it was far from over.

As he presents himself just as naked in front of you, he again welcomes himself between your legs. This time you get a better view of him and his muscles and abs. He gets a good view of your body too for sure as his hand reaches to start stroking his dick.

He places one hand on your thigh and pushes it farther to give him more room. Finally, he inserts in inside you and you automatically felt him throbbing between.

There was a growing heat between the both of you, and it only intensified as Peter started to thrust his hips forward and backwards. There was not even a rhythm from him as he moves harder after hearing you softly moan underneath.

The slapping sound echoes through the room that would eventually reek of sex and you felt ashamed that your body was enjoying all of this.

“Ah… ah… ahh… agh….”

“You’re starting to enjoy this, aren’t you?” He brags as one hand was reaching for your breasts while the other holds your thigh up. “Fucking slut.”

Your body and mind were tired and could only hold so much longer. It was not a surprise when your stomach started to churn your the muscles in your thighs were cramping up.

Peter did no help after seeing you starting to wear out. He tried leaning in to make out with you and expect to moan into his mouth. You did for a moment, a combination of both your drools were streaming down from the corner of your mouth.

“We’re making a mess, huh,” he mumbles. “But I know you’re already a dirty fucking girl.”

He proceeds to deprave you with statements, “Can’t believe you’re enjoying my cock better than that old man’s... Such a fucking whore.”

You twist your head aside, trying to hide the fact that you feel like your temperature were burning up. You were so sure he could feel the increasing warmth of your walls either way.

Your eyes were rolling back as you resist arching your back, which was not really a success as the amount of pleasure was overwhelming.

As you writhe beneath him, you felt a hand on your cheek. It pushes your head back onto looking at front and at Peter. “I want you t look at me when you’re going to cum, sweetie,” he orders and you could not do much anyways.

The second time you came was a whole other level. You never felt this with any person you slept with so far, rather not this fast and intense to say. “That’s it, fuck, you’re tighter than I could ever imagine.”

Peter continues until it was his time to cum. The bed continues to move along with his pace and your body was basically abused to his liking.

And even if you were not aware of it, the boy was practically thankful that his agency decided to agree to soundproofing his whole apartment – his motive being for personal reasons, which they did not question any time soon.

You were helpless, you knew that. All you had in mind now was rest. Your eyelids were heavy and your mind was drifting to slumber.

The last thing you remember was Peter moving over your body to come all around your chest like a painter with its paint brush creating a masterpiece from your chest to your core.

“I love you.”

a/n: ily pls leave comments <3

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reigenomic-moving · 4 years ago

Text

Wayne's statement on the racist caracatures in last nights stream and the makeship plushie

Image ID's under the cut

hey everybody. last night's stream was a weird one. the things that went down when we tried to play Bullet Roulette were not great. it made us as a team realize that we need to put our foot down and make a statement. about last night, and a lot of other things. what you're about to read is not only my words, but those of the entire team.

the first thing i should get out of the way is this: the caricatures that appeared in Bullet Roulette suck, and we're all disappointed that one of our favorite old VR games has that bullshit in it. we all made the fact that we thought it was shitty as clear as we could last night while we were playing. we tried to reset the lobby 3 times to fix the bug that forcibly made us all be that model. it did not work. we tried to keep playing it for a little while and then give it one last try. which, of course, did not work. what took place afterwards is what we'll be talking about here.

the reaction a small group of you had to these events was disappointing, and in some cases, unacceptable. we are not upset with native americans who were uncomfortable with the caricatures, we are upset with those of you who instantly demonized us for not 'turning off the game immediately'. the reason we as the streamers and the mods repeatedly asked everyone to 'move on' is because we acknowledged what we had just experienced in the game was wrong, and condemned it. we expressed how we felt about the models out loud multiple times. while unproblematic media exists, there is a lot of media that has problematic elements in it. it's not great, but that's the way things are. things are not always black & white. the expectation that the moment an unsavory concept is encountered in something on stream that we drop what we're doing and shut off the program is absolutely unreasonable.

if we run into problematic content, do not assume we automatically endorse it just because we did not remove it from the screen immediately. we can still experience it as a whole while acknowledging what's wrong with it. take LISA, for instance. I loved what I played of that game, and I know a large majority of you guys loved those streams too. LISA has problematic shit in it. early on in those streams we encountered a character that was a racist caricature of a black man. we acknowledged that it fucking sucked, and we kept playing. and both the crew and chat were able to continue maturely while acknowledging that the content was problematic.

while this is only somewhat related, i might as well also address the makeship situation, and those of you who came after me for deleting their initial statement. I deleted it because it was bad. that e-mail was an apology from the worker to me, not meant as a public apology. it didn't approach the situation properly. I was scrambling to get something up to address the concerns while i was in the middle of a 24 hour multi day road trip (one whose existence I had to hide for the stream gag), I just took whatever makeship would give me. when I actually had a little bit of time to sit down and read it, and read what some of you had to say about it, I realized that it didn't actually mean anything. I deleted it, and spoke to my handlers at makeship, and informed them about the biggest issue with that shitty anti-centrism plush: what was essentially a masked swastika next to a star of david. if you look up the original designs of that stupid ball, you can find that it actually had a swastika on it, and the creator hid that fact from team members at makeship by changing it in the concept art he shared with them. it might be hard to believe, but their team genuinely did not know about this. and they did not consider why that plushie was as shitty as it was. after I informed them and talked it over, they removed the plushie from their website completely and decided to not work with that creator going forward. their team thanked our campaign for bringing them to the realization that they need to more properly vet the creators they work with and the origins of their designs. what disappointed me in this scenario were those of you who assumed the worst about me just because i had not made a statement about it while i was doing my best behind the scenes to work things out.

we also know that being publicly accessible artists & entertainers comes with a fair amount of vulnerability through exposure, however the amount of invasions of privacy and harassment a lot of us have experienced in the past year is worth taking note of. we are people. what if you woke up to dms from people saying they found your name and your phone number? what if you got a text from a stranger saying they found your information? how would you feel? these are questions you need to ask yourself as a viewer even if you've never gone that far. these are things that have actually happened to us.

being a fan comes with as much responsibility as being a creator; just because you are consuming what we make does not make this a one way relationship where you're invisible. what you do and say is being felt by actual humans, and the information you share or try to get not only affects us but the people we know. it has at times been so invasive and ridiculous that some of us have considered stopping completely. as a fan and a viewer, your responsibility is to respect us as much as you would respect any other human being; putting us up on pedestals to the point where some of us get treated like objects or things is the absolute opposite of respect and we've mentioned this a few times. we will be taking much stronger action on these matters from here on out; please observe how you view us and ask yourself if you'd look at a friend or family member the same way. if you wouldn't, reconsider your relationship with what we make.

some of you hold me and the crew on a pedestal in a way that makes us deeply uncomfortable. this isn't the first time we've experienced something like last night. it has happened on other team member's streams. the hostility we are met with when we encounter something unsavory on stream is ridiculous. after shutting down the game, seeing a few of you in the chat screaming at us, attacking our characters, invalidating all of our values and past deeds as a team over encountering unexpected bigotry in a game and condemning it, not perpetuating it ourselves, is infuriating. to all of us. you do not have the right to harass us over something like this. coming into our DM's and repeating yourselves, accusing us of lying about values and calling us awful people is harassment. it is extremely immature. and it is behavior we no longer want in this community. we are human. we aren't meant to be your perfect social/political pillars.

when these things happen, you know it sucks, we know it sucks, we all know why it sucks, and while we will always point it out when we see it, the expectation of us to derail our show and explain to you why its bad and apologize for it being on the screen is not an expectation we will meet. acknowledge, and move on. a statement does not always need to be made. going forwards, we'll be increasing moderation measures in regards to the harassment of crew/staff and the mitigation of events like these in the future. thank you for understanding.

- All of Radio TV Solutions & The WRTV Mod Team

#wayneradiotv #wrtv #rtvs #wayne rtvs #antisemetism mention #racism mention

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awormonastring · 4 years ago

Text

Office Hours- Professor Aizawa x Student

Summary: Life as a college student left you bored. Your history professor, Aizawa Shouta gives you just what you need, but you get a little too close.

Word count: 6077

CW: Professor x Student Relationship

ao3

College life was basic. Wake up, go to school, come home, do homework, sleep. It was a basic cycle, but you made the most out of it by getting good grades. Except recently, something was up. It was your third year of college and you still didn’t have a major. With all your friends being in the process of getting ready to graduate, you were still left confused. This made you feel alone and unfulfilled. Ultimately, you just felt unmotivated with school. What’s the point of trying if you’re just going nowhere? So you started to miss more of your classes, assignments, which led to your grades plummeting. Your history class was a class you genuinely enjoyed but you just never felt like going. To avoid getting kicked out from school (which would upset your parents), you decided to just show up to your classes.

You forced yourself to wake up early, with your class starting at 10am, and decided to do your makeup and actually make an effort to get ready (just as a little motivation boost). You headed to your 10am science class and actually made it on time, which made you feel proud. After about 2 hours your class ended and you had about an hour long break until your last class of the day which was your history class. You decided to get some coffee to wake you up a bit since you felt extremely tired. A part of you still felt unmotivated, but you convinced yourself to push through.

It was 2pm and you were now in your last class of the day. You kept on giving yourself little motivators to make yourself pay attention and try:

“C’mon Y/N. It’s the last class of the day. After this you can go home and reward yourself with a nap. It’ll go by quickly. You like this subject plus this professor is good looking. At least let that motivate you” the little voice in your head said.

Sitting next to the door, you were the first one who knew when your professor was here. You could hear his footsteps and smell his cologne that left an invisible trail leading to the door. He walked into the room holding a coffee cup and black messenger bag. His long black hair was tied back into a low bun. He wore a light blue dress shirt, dark grey pants, and dark brown shoes. Damn, he actually was really good looking. It was something you never noticed since you were always just focused on your work and left class as soon as it ended. You didn’t even know his name. It started with an “A” but you weren’t really sure what it was. To your luck, one of your classmates raised his hand to ask a question. Professor Aizawa was his name. The name easily flowed off your tongue as you mouthed it. Getting your attention, pieces of paper being passed your way.

Oh shit.

It turns out that today your first paper of the semester was due, and you had no idea. As Professor Aizawa came by to collect the papers, he could sense your gloomy energy.

“Y/N,” he spoke which caused your head to look up at him, “Can you stay after class? I have to talk to you about something?”

“Yeah.” You responded. Great. Was he going to drop you from the class for missing too many days? Probably. The duration of the class consisted of you bouncing your leg, clicking your pen, wallowing in anxiousness. You know you were probably bothering the rest of your classmates, but you weren’t a person of confrontation. Class finally ended. You waited for the rest of your classmates to leave before approaching Professor Aizawa’s desk.

Waiting with sweaty palms, Professor Aizawa looked up at you while he was in the middle of writing. He placed the tip of his pen to his mouth, thinking about what to say.

“Y/N. I’ve recently noticed that you haven’t been showing up to class.” You could sense the disappointment in his face, which was weird. Why was he so disappointed about you not showing up to class? He’s never even spoken to you, let alone even acknowledged you until now. After taking a long inhale, you respond.

“Yeah. I’m sorry, I just… I’m just going through one of those times. There’s just a lot going on with me.”

“I understand. But you always have to make the most out of your education, you aren’t paying all this tuition for nothing,” He gently laughed, “Anyways, I wanted to let you know about your recent missing assignments but my next class is about to start. How about I give you my card and you come to my office hours. This is gonna be my last class so if you’re free in about an hour you can come and we can figure out what to do about these assignments.” He reaches into his bag and pulls out his card.

The card reads: Shouta Aizawa. Department of Social Sciences. Head of the History Department.

His phone number and email are also being shown. You looked up at him.

“Okay. Sounds good! I can wait an hour. Thank you.”

You left the classroom feeling a bit of a relief. You honestly expected him to just drop you from the class. But the way he was so nice with you made you feel relaxed. It made you feel like someone could see the better in you. You headed to the library to take a nap before this meeting.

Walking around the social science building, you had no idea where you were going. The fact that the social science building consisted of 3 levels definitely made things more complicated for you. His office was located in 118O. You weren’t anywhere near that. “142” the nearest room showed. You decided to just give up and figure everything out tomorrow.

From a short distance, you could see Professor Aizawa walking the other direction. You thought about following him but felt like you would seem creepy if you did that. He turned around and noticed you staring at him.

“Hello Y/N. Are you lost?” he remarked. God how weird did you look just standing there? Your face flushed red.

“Hi Professor Aizawa. I’m sorry. I was just trying to find your office but uh, this building is a lot bigger than I expected” You tried laughing to ease awkwardness.

“No worries. Just follow me. My office is a bit hard to find since it’s sort of isolated.” He walked a bit in front of you while telling you about his previous class and how half of the class didn’t show up. After about 5 minutes, the two of you arrived at his office. He reached into his pocket, pulling out his keys and unlocking the door. You were surprised to find that his office was extremely clean. From his appearance, you assumed his office was going to be a little messy. His office consisted of random diplomas, a stack of papers on his desk along with a computer, black couch, basically everything that would be in your typical office. He glanced at you, “Take a seat. Make yourself comfortable.” He sat at his computer, typing away.

You looked around at his office to find something to help start conversation since the silence in the room made you feel awkward. Except, he didn’t have any photos. No family, friends, nothing. It made you feel kind of bad for him. Imagine how lonely he must be.

Finally saying something, the professor started, “Looking at your current grade- well, you’re at a D+ right now. C’mon Y/N, I expected better of you. You started off my class doing exceptional work on all my assignments. But now, you are so behind.”

“I know. I just haven’t been doing good these past couple of weeks. It’s just a lot going on not even with my life ju-”

“It’s alright. If you want to explain what has been going on, I’m here to listen. I just want you to do better. I don’t like seeing my students struggle, especially if I know what they are capable of. You can talk to me about what you are going through, only if you’re comfortable” His eyes glued to his computer then made eye contact with you for a brief moment. After a few seconds, he ran his fingers, pushing the strands on his face back, going back to viewing the screen.

You felt conflicted. You wanted to tell him about what you were going through. But, you didn’t feel like your struggles were valid. Should you be given another shot at your assignments when you didn’t show up to class for almost a month? Nothing was going on in your life, so what could you even say?

You decided to just say what was on your mind. Being honest was the only chance you had at passing this class, especially since you wanted to transfer soon. You stopped playing with your fingers and fixed your posture.

“Well, recently I’ve just been overthinking. I’ve kind of lost all my motivation for school. I don’t even know why. I’m assuming it’s because I still don’t have a major while all my friends are already transferring, graduating, and planning out their futures. While I’m just stuck. I feel like I’m not going anywhere.” The man sitting across from you, with his full attention. You didn’t even know when he stopped paying attention to his computer. He responds.

“That’s completely understandable”

“What?” That caught you off guard. You were so used to most teachers invalidating their students’ feelings.

“I mean. I can absolutely see how that would affect your mindset for school. How about we figure out a plan to get you right back on track.” His hands clasped together showed that he was genuinely interested in helping you. Staring at his hands, you noticed his hands were really big, his veins immediately grabbing your attention. This caused your face to go red. You could tell he enjoyed working out in his free time.

“Sounds good.” you smiled. You were still confused as to why he was helping you but he was able to get your grade up plus he was attractive so it served as eye candy while he worked.

After countless questions about your interests, the two of you were able to figure out a potential major for you which made you feel a lot more motivated. You felt like you were finally moving forward rather than continuing to be stagnant. Two hours had now passed and you had to go home. As you packed your notebook and pencil bag, the man invited you to another potential meeting.

“Y/N if you ever need help with figuring out how to go about your major just let me know and we could help figure out a plan.” He stated. His eagerness to help you really meant a lot, so why not visit him again?

“Yeah. That actually sounds really good. I’d love to plan out my schedule.” You responded.

“Great! You can just come by whenever. No need to make an appointment… that is if you can find my office on your own.” He teased which caused you to jokingly roll your eyes. “Anyways, I’ll see you Y/N.”

“Thank you for your help Professor Aizawa!” You left his office and made your way home. Not only feeling accomplished but also feeling a weird feeling, almost like butterflies.

The next day, you decided to go by his office to see if he was there. You weren’t planning on having another meeting with Professor Aizawa since you didn’t want to seem weird, but you still wanted to see him since you only had class with him 2 days a week.

You walked into the Social Sciences building and headed to his office, only wanting to casually walk by to get a glance of the professor before heading home. Walking up the stairs, you made your way and pretended to casually stroll by… like you didn’t purposely walk across your campus just to get a glimpse of him. A part of you didn’t even know why you were even doing this. Another part of you just wanted to see what he was wearing, hear his voice, you wanted him to acknowledge you. These thoughts in your head turned into a full on day dream and you dozed off as you walked, not noticing that you had walked by without even looking into his office.

“Fuck” You thought. You missed your chance at seeing him. Should you walk back and potentially get caught walking around his office or should you just give up and go home?

You turned around and headed back towards his office. If he noticed you walking by his office again you could just say you forgot something. But why would he even ask? Your mind started to race with possible scenarios that could occur. Suddenly, you noticed a figure walking towards you. Of course, it was Professor Aizawa heading home.

“Hi Y/N. What are you doing here? There aren’t any classes going on right now?”

Embarrassment flowed throughout your whole body. You weren’t even sure of what to tell him since you were on the third floor of the Social Science Building where all the offices were located. Most of the professors had gone home. You cleared your throat.

“Um- I was just…” God what could you even say? “I just wanted to see if you were in your office- to see if we could plan out my schedule for next semester. You know since you said you could help me” You awkwardly laughed.

“Oh.”

“But I see you’re done for the day so we can just plan ano-”

“No it’s fine. I don’t mind staying later. I’m not busy this evening” He interrupted.

The two of you walked to his office. You felt a little guilty since you’re the reason that he has to stay on campus even longer.

“I’m sorry for making you stay later” You apologized.

“No don’t be sorry. I don’t mind at all. Listen. My job is to help my students. I enjoy this.”

You had no idea why that made your heart rate increase. Were you starting to develop feelings for your professor? You were so confused but you pushed it aside to take in the time you were spending. Admiring every feature of his face. From his man bun, to his 5 o’clock shadow, everything about Professor Aizawa captivated you.

After about an hour, you finally had all your classes for the next 2 semesters planned out. You planned on taking 12 units per semester which included general ed classes along with classes for your major. Grinning at your professor as you put away your paperwork into your backpack, you felt so much appreciation for him. In just 2 days, you were able to not only pick a major, but also plan out your semesters. And it was all thanks to your history professor.

“Thank you so much. I really appreciate you going all this way for me. I really don’t deserve all this honestly. But it means a lot that you are so willing to help me.”

“Don’t sweat it. Seeing you grow is enough of a reward to me. It’s why I do what I do.” He was packing his things as well.

“Well, I’ll see you in class! Thank you so much again for all your help,” waving goodbye as you walked out.

When you approached the door of the Social Science building you noticed that it was pouring rain outside. You had no idea it was even going to rain so you definitely were not prepared. Conveniently, you also planned to walk home since you couldn’t afford an uber home. You decided to try calling your mom, no answer. Friends? The two friends you had both worked. While you were waiting and trying to call your friends, Professor Aizawa approached the door to go to his car.

“Oh my bad.” He could sense that there was something wrong with you which caused him to make a second take to you. “You have a way home right?” Oh no. Were you better off lying to him or being honest?

“Um, yeah I wasn’t aware it was gonna rain today and I was planning on walking home. I don’t know why no one is answering to pick me up.”

“If you want I could give you a ride home. Just so you don’t have to walk home in the rain,” the keys wiggling between his fingers called your attention.

“Oh god haha. I feel bad.”

“I don’t mind. I’d rather drive you home then have you walking home by yourself in the rain.”

“If you can, I would appreciate it.”

“Alright. Let’s go.” He declared.

Walking to the parking lot while sharing an umbrella, you wondered what kind of car your professor would have. Your curiosity was put on hold when you heard a car ring. There it was. You weren’t someone who knew much about cars but the car had a small logo in front. The top of the license plate read: Mercedes Benz. The car shimmered with a clean grey tint. The car itself looked expensive. You both entered the car and headed to your home.

The car ride was about half an hour. It was also very silent. Professor Aizawa occasionally made small talk but due to the fact that it was pouring rain he became too focused on the road. The car was filled with the sound of the radio playing top hits. From time to time, you would glance at him. You noticed how mad he looked when he drove which made you flustered. His left thumb was placed on his lip as his right hand steered the wheel. Whenever someone cut him off, he would tug on his tie to let out his frustration. Furrowed eyebrows and random moments where he would clear his throat as if he was about to say something but never did. You noticed the details about the professor, such as when he would look back, he’d place his arm around your seat which always made you hold your breath with a clear blush on your face.

Professor Aizawa finally arrived at your house. You watched his hand as he moved the gear shift to ‘P.’ He rubbed his five o clock shadow before turning to you. You were lost in him.

“This is your house right?” He questioned which broke you from your trance.

“Oh! Yeah. This is my house. Thank you again for taking me home. I’ll try giving you gas money next time I see you”

“It’s alright. Don’t worry about it. Your house is on the way to mine so I don’t lose anything from taking you home. Let me know if you ever need me to drop you off again okay?”

“Sure thing. Thank you again Professor Aizawa!”

“Call me Aizawa. I’m not on the job right now so feel free to just call me Aizawa. Have a good one.” He laughed. You exited his car and walked to your door, noticing that he was waiting until you entered your home which made your heart warm.

When you entered your room, you immediately threw yourself on your bed. An exhale left you and had you feeling a sense of satisfaction. Your whole body felt warm and you weren’t sure why. You felt so many feelings. You constantly wanted to be around Aizawa. A part of you felt disappointed that he would never send you a text message everyday, let alone even feel the same way about you. The other part of you felt a sense of bliss that you were even in his car. Another part of you felt weird and wrong for having these wants and feelings towards your professor. You pressed your thighs together to give yourself the pleasure your teacher would never be able to, imagining his touch granting you all of your deepest desires as a melody of his name left your lips.

The next couple of weeks consisted of you going to Aizawa’s office after your classes. The first couple of days, you would make up random excuses to visit him like homework help, directions, small things like that. As time passed on, you just started to go with no excuse. The two of you would talk for hours about random things. He would even go as far as buy you food. The two of you would eat while laughing about life stories each of you would tell. He would take you home everyday, even teaching you how to drive. The man would constantly tease you for not knowing how to drive.

“So let me get this. You’re 21 and can’t drive?” The man laughed as he took the last bite of his burrito bowl.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, “you know I kinda have a fear of driving.”

“Want me to teach you?”

The more you hung out with him, the more you fell head over heels over him. You felt like your feelings were wrong. Was it bad to like someone 10 years older than you? Someone who already had his life figured out while you were still trying to figure out yours? These questions kept you up at night. The divide within your thoughts had you torn. No one could fulfill you like he could.

You entered his office one Thursday evening. It was the end of the week and the end of finals. You were completely exhausted. When you entered Aizawa’s office, things were different. The couch and your usual seat were gone. You stared at the professor in confusion.

“Oh… are you busy today?” You questioned.

“No. Oh! The chairs- I just needed to get my furniture cleaned since the semester is about to end but I guess they still haven’t finished cleaning.” He kept his eyes on the computer.

“Should I leave?” You were so confused. He was acting so weird.

“Why?” He continued typing, completely unfazed.

“Well there’s nowhere for me to sit…”

“Why don’t you just sit on the floor, princess” Immediately, a look of regret spread on his face. He was so focused typing he didn’t realize what he said, “Oh shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to call you that.” Both of your faces were covered in a bright shade of red. You tried to ease the discomfort in the room. “Oh it’s okay I actually like it! It’s cute!” Too honest. That was probably the wrong thing to say. Aizawa moved his focus from his computer to you. His eyes could see the longing you felt for him. His eyes knew that you wanted him.

“Oh really?” He playfully said, “In that case, I don’t think a princess should be sitting on the ground like that.”

“Well there’s nowhere else to sit.” You could sense he was flirting with you. Did he want you as much as you wanted him, or was it all in your head?

“Well… why don’t you sit on my lap?” His voice mocked you. The energy in the room had completely shifted. It felt like pure ecstasy. Was this real? Or just another one of your dreams? One of those dreams of your professor that left you absolutely soaked every single time you woke up. There was no way this was reality.

Aizawa had rolled his chair back, waiting for you to join him. His hands hanging from the arm rests, the sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up to his elbows which made your breathing faster. You wanted those hands on you so bad. The urge for pleasure ran all over your body.

“What the fuck” was all you could say. It caught you off guard that he would say something like that. You were so used to seeing him be professional that seeing this side of him threw you off, but you loved this new side of him. And you wanted to have some fun with him…

“Maybe if you would’ve had a chair I would’ve had an actual place to sit..but whatever I guess” You talked back. You knew this would bother him since he was so used to being in charge as a teacher.

“Ahhh so that’s how it’s going to be” which was followed by a sinister giggle and dark stare. Your body was entangled by Aizawa’s eyes. He didn’t even have to lift a finger and you were already walking towards him. He had you on an imaginary leash that you loved. When you were close enough he yanked your arm and placed you on his lap, looking away from him. You could feel yourself getting wet for him.

”Since you want to act like a little brat with me, how about I show you how things are done here? You must’ve gotten a little too comfortable with me so let me put you in your place, princess” He whispered into the crook of your neck, which released a whine in you.

“Look at how wet you are for me, all I have to do is whisper in your ear and you’re dripping for me, I can feel it,” He was right. Aizawa didn’t have to touch you and you were a mess for him. Even in class, whenever you noticed Aizawa glance at you, you would always tighten your thighs just to get some sort of small release. His whisper in your ear made you so weak and he knew that, “So why doesn’t my princess destress herself. I can't even imagine how stressful school must be for her.” His hands were wrapped around you, gently brushing against your bare inner thigh. You always wore skirts everyday in hopes that he could put his hands up your legs and it was finally happening.

“Hnnng” All you could do was whine. Nothing was being done, so how could you already feel so much?

“C’mon. Why don’t you grind on my thigh? I can tell by the way you’ve been looking at me that you’ve wanted this for so, so long. Go on- Here why don’t I help you” The man proceeded to grab your hips and gyrate them. Moving your body in circles, you whimpered cries of pleasure. His toned thigh against your throbbing sex while his hands gripped you. His hands progressively got tighter around your waist and he began using his tongue on your neck to follow the gyrating motion from your hips. All you could do was grasp his hands and cry. You felt so good but you had to keep your voice down since the two of you were in his office and you were scared others would hear.

“God, I can feel how wet you are for me. C'mon let me hear you moan for me, don’t be shy” He nibbled on your ear as he moved his hand down your body and underneath your skirt. He chuckled under his breath as he felt how wet you were for him. Aizawa gave you some time to get used to his touch before inserting two fingers inside of you. An audible “mmm” could be heard and felt from him. He thought it was so hot how much you wanted him. He noticed all those times in class when you would move your eyes to his bulge whenever he was teaching, or when you would stare at his hands when he drove. He wanted to keep you wanting him.

He removed his fingers from your pussy and stuck them in your mouth so you could taste yourself. Moving his fingers, you gagged with watery eyes.

“Look at you. You’re a sloppy fucking mess for me. I can't wait to have my cock in you.” He moaned in your ear before moving you to the ground. The man moved you to the ground and demanded you to strip for

“Strip for me like the slut you are.” He walked back to his seat and watched you fully clothed as you slowly removed your clothes. He didn’t move at all, his eyes stayed glued on you. Meanwhile, you couldn’t even stare at him. You focused your attention to your clothes. After finally taking off everything, he made you crawl to him. A part of you was embarrassed at how much control this man had over you. But the other half of you had dreamt of this for so long. You wanted him to control you so bad.

You slowly unzipped his pants and could feel his erect cock spring out. A trail of precum leaked from it. You took the tip into your mouth as your tongue swirled along his sensitive part which stirred up a groan from the man. After a few minutes, you fully took him into your mouth. You felt pressure on the back of your head. Aizawa had placed his hand on the back of your head to keep you on his entire cock. This elicited a gag from you.

“Damn you would think with the way you dress you’d know how to do this by now. No worries, princess I’ll teach you how” He ridiculed before grabbing your hair and moving your face to his shaft, taking him whole. He started to move your face up and down his cock as he fucked your face. The back of your throat burned and your vision was blurred, however through all that, this was the most fulfilled you’ve been. After so many dreams of Aizawa, you finally had him. Your fantasy was being granted. He came in your mouth, telling you to open your cum filled mouth. He grabbed your face as he spit in your mouth. You swallowed before thanking him.

“Thank you, sir” You breathed. He grabbed the back of your neck and kissed you for the first time. Lips brushed against each other as the two of you mumbled sweet nothings. Aizawa stroked himself as he seductively spoke in between your lips.

“Well since there’s no chair I guess the only place your slutty ass can sit is on my cock, huh princess?” He sat on his chair, his hand around your waist. His hair was down and strands covered his face. A look of sin was conveyed on his face. He wasn’t just your professor anymore. At this moment, Aizawa embodied corruption. This was a completely different side of him that no one would ever get to see. Nobody except you. This realization scared you but it also excited you.

You joined him on the chair and slowly lowered yourself onto his cock. You let out a harsh cry as soon as his tip was inside of you before quickly covering your mouth.

“I want you to fuck yourself using my cock, you understand?” He purred into your ear which sent chills down your spine.

“Y-yes sir” You stuttered before slowly lifting yourself up. Up & down- the motion that would drive you mad. Even the slow speed you were going at wasn’t enough to have your legs trembling.

“Ah..fuck” You moaned.

“That’s a good girl. Like that.” Aizawa murmured. He had sat back and admired you, letting you go at your own pace. Occasionally, the man would pet your hair and caress your face.

After some time, impatience grew for Aizawa. He wanted to fuck you so hard. It took everything in him to let you go at your own slow pace. But his animalistic arousal was getting the best of him. He put his hand around your neck as he put you down on his desk.He buried his cock in you. The pace progressively got faster and faster. You weren’t used to this at all.

“Aizawa fuck. Too fast. Please keep going” You begged. Stars started to form in your vision but the feeling of euphoria you felt ran down to your sweet spot. Your natural instinct in you caused you to place your hands on his chest to move him away due to the overwhelming sensation you felt. In response, he stopped. He grabbed your hands that were on his chest and moved them on above your head. Aizawa undid his maroon tie and proceeded to bind your hands together.

“Your hands were getting in the way.” His raspy voice let out an almost menacing chuckle, as if he was now mocking you. You were in his complete control, which is something that brought out a raunchy side of him. It was something that made you absolutely weak. You wanted to submit to him.

He continued to thrust in and out of you again. Eventually, he was going at a fast pace again. His fuck had your mind blank. All you could let out were whimpers and pleads, while he grunted in your ear.

“C’mon I wanna hear you moan louder for daddy. You're daddy’s princess, let me hear you. Here let me help you” The man moved his hand to your sweet spot and proceeded to move his fingers in circles. By this point, you were practically screaming at all the pleasure he was giving you. You didn’t even care if others could hear your moans. You wanted him to keep going so bad, but could your body handle it? You opened your eyes for a brief second and caught a glimpse of the man’s eyes. His black eyes were full of impurity as he watched you go from his innocent student to his lewd fucktoy.

“I'm not gonna let you cum until you’re begging for me. Why don’t you ask me if you can cum?” his hand on your clit continued to move in circles, picking up speed.

“Ah~ Fuck. I want to cum” You moaned. The man grabbed your jaw in an aggressive manner and moved his face close to yours.

“That’s not what I fucking said. I told you to ask. Guess you’re not good at listening to directions huh.” He said as he sternly looked into your tear-filled eyes.

“P-please- Can I please cum?~” You cried out. You ached for release.

Aizawa began pulling your hips down to him, sinking his fingers into them. His cock could be felt pulsating in you as he quickly entered you. Sparks flew within his office. The room was filled with lust and you could feel yourself rising to release. Both of your breaths got faster and you felt yourself let go. Aizawa had released himself on your stomach. You stayed on his desk and he sat in his chair, the two of you catching your breaths and coming back to earth.

“Here.” Aizawa handed you a cold water bottle. “Are you okay?” The concern in his voice made you finally come back to your reality. He helped you clean you up.

“I’m fine.” You felt more than fine. Your mind had just returned from a state of euphoria that you never thought you were ever going to get. You secretly pinched your thigh just to see if you could have been dreaming. This was no dream. This was just a reality you never expected.

“I wasn’t too rough on you right? I guess I got too carried away.”

“No! Don’t worry about it! I was good the whole time.” You reassured him.

The look in his eyes was different now. They gleamed in the light and had a sweet look. The two of you got dressed again. You made your way to the door of the building, before Aizawa rushed to grab your arm. The man cleared his throat once you turned his direction.

“Do you uh- want to eat something before you go? If you want, I can drive you home.” His cheeks became a bright pink, which made you giggle. The fact that he was acting so shy now after everything that the two of you just did.

“Oh. Sure”

“Alright. I’ll order us some Chipotle. How does that sound?”

“Sounds good.” You smiled at him as the two of you walked back to his office. You guys would end up spending the rest of the evening chatting and embracing each other’s company, literally. The rest of the day would be spent in Aizawa’s arms and you would cherish the warmth of his arms around you, feeling safe.

#aizawa #aizawa x female reader #aizawa x y/n #mha aizawa #aizawa shouta #teacher x student #professor x student #bnha aizawa #my hero x reader #bnha smut #bnha x reader #aizawa smut #college au

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mikewheeler · 2 years ago

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First of all I want to say that its not really my place to discuss an issue like this because it’s partially something I’m not a part of, BUT: we need to establish and clarify as people that WOMEN struggles (anyone who identifies as a women) are much greater than homosexual white men struggles. Gay men have struggled and continue to struggle every day, I’m not denying that. However, we need to (as people who respect both gay men and women) recognize that gay white men are still white men. I am so sick and tired of seeing women in this show fight for their lives to be recognized just for yet another white man (regardless of orientation) to come and suck all the viewers’ sympathy. And YES I am speaking about el and will. I love will dearly he’s one of my favorites (and bylers will never ruin him for me) but to say that his struggles “as a closeted teenager in the 80s” are more real than “a disabled abused girl” who’s been experiencing misogyny pretty much since the day she was born is fucking insane. I’m sorry that will is struggling but he’s gonna be fine, I promise you that he will be fine, it’s still sad but he’s fineeee. Yes el is privileged in the sense that she can express her feelings towards the person she loves freely but please tell me how that makes her life so much easier than will when she’s a fucking women in the 80s that should be enough, but even then that’s not even why she’s had it worse and you know it. Give me a fucking break. Will (one of the most well written characters in the show) continues to be the most selfless person on this show and his fans somehow make up for that by making every fucking thing about him. Ask any gay person in the 80s about wills story arc and I promise you they will relate. And I’m saying all of this because once season 5 comes out and El gets her happy ending with mike you best believe that will fans are going to invalidate her happy ending for will not getting his. I know they will give him his happy ending, but if they don’t for some reason I want everyone separate their own frustrations with their blatant misogyny. Please stop being misogynistic towards El, please.

OK, I think this ask deals with 2 completely separate issues and it is important to clarify the separation.

It is not my belief that LGBT people don't experience oppression nor is it my belief that gay men do not have a history of oppression. To say "Will is going to be fineee" is understating not only the character's experience, but the experiences of all those who lived in this time period. The AIDS crisis happened in the 80s; a lethal disease came out of nowhere and wiped out entire communities of LGBT folks, majorly gay men, while the government watched and did nothing. To have LGBT rep in a show about the 80s is actually super important considering the historical context, and it is actually why I understand the Duffers' decision to hold off on official coming out moments for Robin and, especially, Will. It is an authentic representation of the time period, and it honors the struggle of self-acceptance that was most likely a lot more difficult 40 years ago. In my personal opinion, it would be insulting to the experience of those people who identified LGBT in the 80s (some who married and lived lives in heterosexual relationships in order to protect themselves) to have romantic relationships come easily to Will and Robin or to have them not experience fear or shame. Only by authentically representing something can we shine light on the truth and learn from it.

It is also not my belief that we should be in some weird oppression war of who has got it worse. And I certainly hope that my blog does not come across in this way. Gay men and non-LGBT women both face different hardships in modern society, as they did in the 80s, and I don't think it's necessary to compare the two. Both can, and do, exist simultaneously, and we should be supporting one another.

All of this is separate from fandom discourse regarding El, Will, and B*ler.

It is my belief that El is perceived by many members of this fandom from a (majorly internalized) misogynistic lens. And, it's been my personal experience, that the members of the fandom who discuss el in this way tend to also strong supporters of b*ler. However, there are many important things to remember. First, being a b*ler shipper and identifying as LGBT do not go hand in hand. Second, that b*ler does not serve as the only LGBT representation on Stranger Things. And lastly, the oppressive experiences of being LGBT are not erased by having bad takes on El.

The only point I have ever tried to make is not that Will's story is less important than El's, nor that being a woman is harder than being gay (I wouldn't even know how to quantify those experiences into a value that is measurable for comparison), but that El's story is important, as is the storyline of her relationship with Mike. No more or less, it just is. And to erase that story that has been fleshed out over the course of four seasons to make room for a story that was never planned (Mike & Will), just to service fans, would be a misogynistic act, yes. As you say, it takes the light off of the main female character and shines it on two white boys. But, also, to do this (go Mike & Will in the final season) would also invalidate the experiences of those of any gender or sexual orientation who have been watching and see themselves represented in El, those who have been affected by abuse and trauma (especially women), and deserve to to see her find happiness and healthy love.

Those who identify with Will or Robin also deserve that representation, and it is also important. However, b*ler is not the only path to representation, and to actually go that route in canon would be disrespectful to the story that has already been written and to those who see themselves in El. It is absolutely possible to honor the experiences of Will and Robin and those who identify as LGBT by writing good story and character arcs for those characters and have them end the show in happy and fulfilling relationships, without making b*ler canon.

So, this is my long-winded way of saying it is unwise of any member of this fandom to mistake our personal feelings and opinions of a show with real life experiences. In order to honestly evaluate if something in this fandom or this show is problematic, I feel like we have to remain as objective as possible. I know firsthand the difficulty of that; I am not perfect and I am not shaming anyone for holding this show and certain storylines/characters close. I certainly do. But I don't think we should be dismissing real life oppressions and hardships, and history, so freely in the name of supporting a fictional character and/or relationship.

PS: why do I have these super long asks in my ask box about how this fandom disrespects women and gay people but never once has anyone brought up the blatantly fucked up way this show and fandom handles the representation of Black people and POC on the show? Just a thought.

#tw discourse #long post #asks #I share a thought

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goldenchan-fx2thepeacock · 4 years ago

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Quick AU where Danny stays in town during Girls Night Out

Yeah, random thoughts spring into brain. Danny is trans. I think that's enough background info. Also, Tumblr got a new post editor, so I'm betaing it right now.

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Danny was supposed to go fishing with his dad. But something came up. AKA, Vlad wanted him to go visit him without Danny. So Danny was in Amity Park when he was supposed to be having dad bonding time. What could he say? His dad got that dumb book and everything. It was gonna be epic. Except stupid Vlad had to go and ruin everything. Whatever. Dad said they would go next weekend.

The first big issue was when Tucker disappeared. And he didn't. Might've been a dumb ghost thing. So he and Sam went to find stuff out. Except all the men in town were gone. It was glaring. "I-I'm sure it's nothing Danny!" Sam said nervously. "Yeah. It's gotta have been a stupid mistake. Maybe I'm immune cause I'm half ghost," Except there weren't any male ghosts either. "Yeah, that's gotta be it!" That when they heard Ember. "OH YEAH! NO MORE PESKY GUYS! IT'S A GIRL'S NIGHT OUT!" "Yes. You know, I'm surprised that worked. I was afraid it might've been a ghost only thing," Spectra drawled. "Of course it worked. The superior gender always prevails," Kitty replied. "And that's obviously female," Every vein in his body was pounding. "I think you might've confused sex for gender ladies," Sam said patiently. "We're not having sex!" Ember laughed. "You do realize how invalidating this can feel for trans people?!" Sam shrieked back. "If they're still here, that means it's a she," Spectra grinned. That was the last straw. He ran. As fast as he could. And for a half ghost that was fast. Once he got home, he slammed the door.

Sam saw Danny run off and knew how this was looking for him. "Isn't this rich? The ghost boy is really a girl," Kitty grinned. "I'm surprised I didn't notice sooner," Spectra laughed. Ember stayed oddly quiet for someone who was normally boisterously loud.

Danny curled in on himself. Herself. NO! Don't second guess yourself. It change the fact that it hurt. "All the men in town are gone!" He heard Jazz yell. "I realize that Jazz. Thank goodness your father is out of town," Mom sighed. "Wait, but Danny isn't! I really hope..." She was standing in his doorway. "FUCKING GHOSTS!" Jazz didn't swear. She never swore. "What is it Jazz? Oh. Danny, I'm so sorry," Mom pulled him into a hug. "I'll be fine," He grumbled. "Do you know which ghosts?" Jazz decided to change the conversation. "Spectra, Kitty and Ember," "Great. Spectra is going to use this horribly," Jazz grumbled quiet enough that only Danny could hear. "Listen, we have to get the guys back first," "Wait, if you're, that means any trans women in Amity are stuck there," Mom said. "Can we not talk about that? I'm seriously not in the mood," "At least pesky Phantom won't be here to get in the way," Jazz and Danny exchanged a look. Sam came bursting in. "Danny! Okay, I am going to make them even deader than before," Sam cracked her knuckles. "I'm fine Sam. Let's just find a way to fix this," "I have an idea!" Jazz said. "No," Danny, Sam and Mom said in unison. "Oh come on. Don't be like that. Not all my plans are bad," Jazz protested. "Speaking from experience (of being trapped in a thermos way too much for one night), that is completely untrue," "What was that about thermoses Danny?" Mom said. "Jazz put soup in my Fenton Thermos!" "I couldn't tell them apart! We really need to label things," "Like with a massive sticker that say Fenton?" "All our stuff has those!" "Fair enough," Danny conceded. It was the plan if anyone caught them talking about getting trapped in thermoses. It made sense because it actually happened. "Well, since Jazz's plan is out, I opt that we figure out how this whole thing happened," Mom said. "It's a combo between Kitty and Ember. Kitty has this thing that makes men disappear into another dimension. And Ember must've used her guitar to make it cover all of Amity. If we don't get them out in twelve hours, they'll be stuck there forever," "And I will have to resign to a life of raging dysphoria," "You were gonna have that anyways," "Times ten. This won't help anyways, but it won't be all bad," "Let's stop talking about you being trans. Danny, you're staying here," Jazz winked. He knew what that meant. They would get all the men back and Danny would keep the ghosts at bay. "Okay. So, from what they were blabbing, all we have to do is get them to do it again," Sam said. Once they had a plan in place, all they had to do was implement it. They left and Danny quickly transformed. Praying that Spectra wouldn't find a way to use this against him, he sped off. "Hey! Poo faces! I'm not gone, and it semi pisses me off!" He screamed. "Oh now sweety. Why would you want to leave behind the superior gender?" Spectra said. "Because it makes me feel horrible and like I was born wrong," "You were, weren't you," Don't let Spectra sink her claws in Fenturd! "Yeah, maybe I was, but if I work hard enough I can fix it," "How is Danny Phantom still here?" He heard Paulina say. Nope, not listening. "They're all going to know. You can't do anything about that," Spectra laughed evilly. "Now girls, follow the recipe! You too now," "I'm. NOT A GIRL!" The wail was probably ill planned, but Danny wasn't thinking straight. Shit, humans. He cut himself off. "Oh come on now. No matter how many times you tell yourself that, you still have to cover parts of yourself. Don't tell me you don't wake up every morning and wish you were a real boy?" "I am. I am a real boy. I just have to take a few extra steps to get there," "Oh come on now. Stop lying to yourself. Maddie, how can you possibly call these eggs? They're green," Okay, maybe dealing with Spectra first was a bad idea. But she was also taunting his mom. Deal with Ember. She must be better than this.

So he flew to a stage. Ember was rocking out with a bunch of girls. Sam was in the background. This was probably one of the less dangerous problems. "Listen, if you're going to taunt me for the fact that I'm still here, do it already," "Hey, listen kid. I'm not actually going to taunt you. Kitty and Spectra are being complete jerks, but I'm not going to judge you for being trans," "Y-you're not?" "Heck no! I'm doing this because I wanted to have a fun night without guys. You included. I'll just have to take a few extra steps to get rid of you!" Danny dodged the guitar strum easily. "Are you planning on bringing them back at the end of the night?" "That's really up to Kitty," "I guess," Sam could deal with Ember.

Next up was Kitty. Oh great, makeup. (I honestly forget what Kitty was doing, so makeup works) "Now girls. All you gotta do is apply the bronzer like so!" "Kitty! How would Johnny feel if he knew you were doing this?" "Oh come on now Ghost girl, you can't be serious. Johnny is having a guys night in all due time," "HEY! Don't you dare. Transphobia doesn't help anyone," Jazz yelled. "Oh stop complaining. She knows she doesn't belong with the guys. From the looks of it, Spectra's already gotten to you. This'll make this so much easier,"

The plan backfired immensely. Danny and Mom were a mess, Sam didn't manage to get the guitar, and Jazz just got in a debate with Kitty. Danny, having to keep up a facade, came downstairs. "How'd it go?" "Terribly. Though, I did learn the Ghost Boy is trans," Mom said. "Fascinating," "It's, well it's oddly human. Why would a ghost even bother?" "Turns out gender dysphoria comes to the grave," "Danny, this is no time for one of your morbid jokes," Yeah, maybe it was morbid, but it wasn't a joke. "Whatever. I guess we get to use Jazz's plan," "All we gotta do is convince them that a cis guy is still in town. Like wandered in after the disappearing act," "Great plan. Sam can't pretend to be me though," "How did you know I was going to do that?" "Lucky guess,"

So that's how Jazz ended up wearing a baseball cap and a pair of men's jeans into Ember's concert. "Did we really have to use a pair of dad's jeans? These barely fit," "You know, the fact that they fit at all should be surprising. Dad was skinny at one point in his life. Which means that one of us could be on his end of the gene pool," "It's probably you," "Don't make me think about that. Hiding what little chest I have is hard enough. If I got dad's genes, I'd honestly be terrified," "We haven't seen the women on his side of the family. And besides, you got the blue eyes black hair thing," "You are honestly scaring me. Now, I gotta scram before someone sees me talking to you. Mom or the ghosts," "Fair,"

And thus, the plan worked. Kitty, adamant that no men be left in Amity, blew another kiss. Ember amplified it. The men came back. The three got thermosed. Jazz laughed at their faces when they honestly though she was from out of town. Danny once again didn't get taken, even in ghost form.

Tucker and Sam found him curled up in his bed. "Hey man. I know this has gotta be tough for you," Tucker said. "Spectra had no right!" Sam continued. "Thanks guys. But I think I'm gonna take a few days off school," The trio heard Dash's voice outside. "Hey mom. I know what happened was scary. And I know it must've felt really bad, but I still see you as my mom," "Thanks Dash. I can always count on you to make me feel better," A woman's voice rang out. Danny looked over the window sill. "See Danny. It's not horribly weird. Just a few transphobic ghosts," Tucker laughed. "A couple," "What?" Sam and Tucker said in unison. "Ember isn't," "How do you know that?" "I talked to her," "Hey Fenturd! Don't you dare tell anyone about my mom! And don't be mean to her! I'm sure you wouldn't get it," "You'd be surprised Dash!" He grabbed his trans flag and hung it out the window. "I get it more than you seem to think!" Dash's mom smiled at him. "Y-you're trans? I thought you were just a loser!" "Yeah, and I had to talk to the transphobic ghosts. So I won't invalidate your mom!" Dash stared up at him. "Holy shit,"

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Praying that this uploads, cause I've got shoddy internet rn. And I'm working on my Gravity Falls crossover fic. I just had this pop into my mind. Prolly just gonna be a oneshot. I might make another fic about Jack's side of the family later, that's connected to this one.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #sam manson #tucker foley #dash baxter #trans!danny #trans!dash's mom #maddie fenton #kitty (ghosts)#ember mclain #phic #penelope spectra #tw:transphobia #tw: gender dysphoria #jazz fenton

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the-story-of-a-teen · 3 years ago

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#mystory

I got inspired by a youtube video, which was a talk by a father that lost his son to suicide. This is what I wish I could tell my parents, when I was a teenager. (I’m 24 now)

If you are suicidal please call the suicide hotline for your country or talk to a mental health professional. TW: This posts discusses suicide, eating disorders, suicidal idealization, religious trauma, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, sexual assault, slut shaming.

01/01/2010

That was the day I was the closest to killing myself, I wanted to poison myself, cut myself, or access the guns, of which I knew were the keys were and I knew where the ammunition was. The thing that stopped myself was my friend Edward, who you claimed was a devil worshipper, a bad influence, and a ‘hussy’. Edward was the only person who seemed to understand me, who took time to be my friend, and would rant with me about the things we went through.

I don’t know how many times I tried talking to you over the years, those times when I went “Hey mom, hey dad, can we talk soon?” “Hey mom, hey dad, can I talk to you but you have to promise not to get mad.” “Hey somethings going on.” but every time I did that, you would get angry, get upset, or invalidate my feelings completely. You didn’t even seem to care that I was struggling, even though I made it as obvious as I could as a 13 year old could. Instead of making time to talk to me, you tried to get me to talk on your time/terms, when I wasn’t ready to talk to you about it. This wasn’t the first time you had done this either. I remember as a child I would try and tell you things and you would shush me, we even had a little nonverbal cue to when I wanted to talk to you, I would hold your wrist when I wanted to tell you something, but you would ignore that as well, no matter how long I waited.

This is why I felt like I could never talk to you about things, you would brush me off as unimportant, you would tell me that without ever saying the words. You didn’t care if I wanted to tell you about something I found interesting, or wanted to ask you if I could go play with my friends.

This leads me into the next reason, you would never let me out of your sight, let me have anything private, or simply do things by myself. Even if I wanted to go play with my friends on the playground less right outside the building you were in, I needed to ask your permission, tell you exactly who I was playing with, and make sure my friends also had permission (when they didn’t need permission). As I grew older this type of overprotection grew more and more. I had to ask you to play in the drive way or back yard, to have my friend’s parents talk to you when we wanted to have a sleep over, to have food from the fridge, to watch tv, to play pinball on the computer, to read, to do anything I wished to do. You then wondered why I had separation issues, you NEVER let me be alone. When I was 10 or 11 I started keeping a journal. It had a lock on it, and I put the keys in a safe place that I thought was secret. One day the keys disappeared. I had put them back, but still searched through my room and the rest of the house, except your room, because you wanted your privacy. The day after that my journal was different from how I originally put it. I thought it was weird, and hid it somewhere else, but you found that spot too. You then brought up very private things I had put into my journal as a vent, things I had certainly never told you, and things I swore I had never told anyone else unless they swore on their mother’s grave and promised not to tell.

You took away my door when I would accidentally slam it when I got emotional, and because you ‘couldn’t trust me to be alone’. You wouldn’t let me hang a curtain or anything so I could change and not have people walk in on me.

When I got old enough to have a cellphone, I caught you sneaking into my room and taking my cellphone, or sitting in my desk chair and going through the messages. You would then interrogate me on my text messages, and would openly take my phone and go through my messages, despite me pleading you not to. This lead to me intentionally setting alarms that would go off through the night, and could only be stopped with a passcode which only I knew.

You would interrogate me any time I wanted to go on the computer to do anything, you forced me to lie to have any sort of freedom to talk to people, look at memes, listen to music, or play games on the computer. You even put parental controls on my computer that would monitor everything and take screen shots, I was allowed exactly 45 minutes a day, which you wouldn’t compromise on, even when I was talking to my friends that lived hours away from us. Then you would get mad when I would trick you into allowing me access so I could change those settings, what else could I do? There was no compromise. Additionally you made me give you every password to every account I ever had, and would get mad when I would change the passwords because you would go through private messages and post on my accounts. Even when I was almost 18, and handed over my computer to show you the receipts, you couldn’t help but go through the whole conversation, even though I told you not to and you promised not to.

On the xbox you would hack into my account (Which I had a passcode on), and would read through the messages, you would have to approve every game and made sure it stood up to your religious and moral standards, or hear me plea to be able to have a game I was interested in. Even when you had approved the game, you had to watch me play it, I wasn’t allowed to enjoy the game on my own.

You thought you were entitled to walk into my room at any time. You wouldn’t listen when I would tell you ‘one moment, I’m changing.’ Instead you would waltz right in, even when I was naked. You would barge into my bathroom, even when I told you to wait. Then you would get mad when I was upset over this. Maybe I didn’t want my parents to see me naked, even though ‘you saw me naked as a baby and child’.

How was I supposed to talk to you openly when you would violate my privacy? When I could have nothing to myself, be able to vent and get my feelings out in a healthy way, to talk about things I didn’t feel I needed to or could tell you, to talk about things I know you all opposed and would interrogate me on, to just talk about day to day things?

When I started dating I was hypersexual. I admit that. When puberty hit I became very sexual and physically affectionate without knowing it, but you started to analyze and criticize me for every action I made. I was touch starved, and craving genuine affection. I wanted to feel loved, to feel wanted, to feel appreciated, and to feel alive. I felt dead inside. I barely got any affection, even from my parents, from other family members, and those I was childhood friends with and was no longer close to. I went to seek that affection with other people, I called my friends parents ‘mom and dad’ because of this and how you all were. You emotionally neglected me. Sure I had physical things, but that wasn’t what I wanted or needed. I need your love, your time, and your acceptance. The only way I got that was through teenage boys that would give me their love, time, acceptance, and physical affection. I even went out seeking any of those things online, which lead me to an early discovery of porn (I was 11), of online chat rooms where I could do smut rps and flirt (I was 13), and teenage dating sites ((common in the 2000′s)(I was 14)). Instead of figuring out what the root of this was, and trying to listen, actually listen, you went about accusing me of different things related to what I had found, even when I wasn’t. You were telling me that you were expecting me to do those things, and that I had to lie to you all to have any sort of freedom. You though dating was only to get married, you had the ‘date to mate’ mentality.

I started dressing in popular clothes of that time, and finding ways of expressing myself and my feelings. Gone were the days of pink dresses and frills. I liked black, blue, and purple, rather than pink and purple. I wanted to wear tighter fitting shirts that were comfortable, easy to move around in, and had fun graphics and words on the chest area. I wanted to wear cute skirts and shorts, as well as skinny jeans, and leggings. You were unhappy with all of it. I was 13 and a C cup, it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t find anything cute that would comfortably fit. I liked wearing shorter shorts, skirts, skinny jeans, and leggings because they were comfy, easy to move around in, and made me feel free and happy. I can’t tell you how many times you criticized my hair, make up, and clothes. You would constantly tell me that I looked like a hussy, like a prostitute, like an attention seeker, like a devil worshipper, like I was ‘asking to be raped’. You said the same things about other people behind their backs, and you didn’t like it when I used your religion against you. You would ask me if I would wear that around ‘God’, or ‘Jesus, and I would say yes. You would tell me that I would be distracting to guys, or that they would look at me a certain way. I simply said that they shouldn’t look if they can’t control themselves, and that the bible said that any man who looked at a woman with lust in his eyes should gouge them out. You hated when I was right, and would deny that you were wrong.

How was I not supposed to be hypersexual, even when I had been sexualized and been deprived of any affection since I was a child?

At the age of 6 you had me start working out because I had “baby fat” and was overweight at my age. You started only having and making healthy things to eat, then would get mad when I liked the taste of some of them, and would eat more than my ‘portion size’. You limited my food intake, and made me work out so I could ‘loose weight’. At 9 this all got worse, as I was beginning to go into puberty, was getting breasts, and had more baby fat moving to my hips. You started humiliating me for getting seconds at dinner, for eating three meals a day, and for continuing to go through puberty. You would also get mad at me for having things like white bread (I hate the texture of wheat and wholegrain), white rice (I don’t like the texture of brown rice), or any sort of junk food. It was no surprise that I started to starve myself so I would fit your standards.

Why wouldn’t I have an eating disorder when that was all I heard all day every day?

These are the main things that lent to my depression, made it worse, and made me want to kill myself from an early age. These are the main behaviors that made me despise my parents and cut them out of my life. These are what you should avoid. If you want to have your kids in your life, don’t do these.

#mystory #ventpost #mental illness #mental health #toxic parents #bad parenting #my child is completely fine #the signs are there #what not to do when parenting #religious trauma #tw ed talk #depression

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havethetimeofyourstyles · 4 years ago

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Chapter Three. Mind Your Business

the scene is set in 1956, a young man moved to Hollywood to follow his dreams of becoming an actor. But with little money and a struggle to keep his apartment, he is approached by a man who offers him a job at Sweetland

a/n: decided to title this chapter ‘mind your business’ because no ones sexuality is anyone’s business! dont assume, make fun of, invalidate anyone’s sexuality because it’s not funny nor is it cute. YOUR SEXUALITY MATTERS AND ITS BEAUTIFUL

SERIES MASTERLIST | JOIN THE TAGLIST | chapter word count: 8.9k

warnings: biphobia (it’s the 1950s)

TALK TO ME ABOUT CN! let me know your thoughts!

pls rb to share! <3

It was Friday, two weeks later as you were sitting with your girls at Mel’s Drive in as you three talked and ate.

Frances was talking about her date that she went on last weekend with the guy that worked with them; as she did assume he was going to ask her out, which he did. She was practically gushing over him as you and Alice listened as you ate, both being happy for her.

“He was the sweetest guy! Took me to a drive in and after we walked on the beach! It was so fun, and after he kissed me-” You and Alice gasped, interrupting her story. “On my cheek! Jeez, you two are something. But it was the sweetest kiss, and ugh! I just want him to ask me out again.”

“The next time you see him, maybe mention that you’d like to go out again, or invite him for a bite to eat,” you told her, and she nodded. “So, Alice, what about you and that guy you were seeing?” She changed the subject.

Alice scoffed and rolled her eyes, “Ugh, I’m not seeing him anymore. He can never make up his mind if he wants to take me out on a date or just wants to continue fucking me, so I dropped him,”

“Good for you,” you say, taking a bite of your toast. Alice was always one for being decisive and assertive. Just like you, she doesn’t take shit from anyone, but she’s ten times more intense than you. But overall, you love her for it.

“Yeah, although, I’m having eyes for someone right now. Behind you,” she only told you, since you were sitting across from the two.

You slowly turned around, trying not to make it obvious that you’re turning around. And what you saw was something shocking, and it made you have a cough attack as you choked on your toast.

“Oh my god, doll, are you okay?” Frances asked. You grabbed your napkin, hysterically coughing into it, and Alice handed you your cup of water.

Practically everyone around your booth was staring at you oddly, wondering if you were okay or not, and once you finally calmed down and the piece of bread washed down your throat, you took a deep breath.

“You sure you’re okay?” Alice asked.

“Yeah, uh, that guy your ogling…”

“What about him?”

“That’s Harry.” Alice and Frances’ eyes widened, immediately moving their heads to take another look at him as their jaws dropped.

“That’s Harry?!” Alice asked in shock.

“Like, as in the Harry?!” Frances added.

“Yup. The one and only.” You watched your friends practically stare at the guy you’ve been thinking about for the past two weeks.

“Oh my god, he’s hotter in person than you described,” Alice swooned. “Sorry, for hitting on your man, doll.”

“Eh, don’t worry about it. If he hit on you dolls, I wouldn’t even be mad because I’d hit on you both too,” you teasingly winked at them, and they both raised their eyebrows in a flirty way

Another thing you loved about your trio was that you were able to make those kinds of remarks without them thinking it was weird. You were truly grateful for friends that accepted your bisexuality, or else you would’ve been in shambles. And besides, who doesn’t hit and flirt with their best friends?

“I can’t believe that’s him!” Frances exclaimed.

“Yeah, he’s handsome, isn’t he?” They both nodded, excitedly.

“Well, are you gonna go up to him?” Alice wondered. You turned around again to really get a look at him. He was facing you, sitting across a lady as they both chatted. He hadn’t seen you, and you were thankful for it because you didn’t want him to see the hint of sadness in your eyes because of the hint of jealousy you had in your body.

You shook your head, “Hell no. He’s obviously on a date.”

“You don’t know that!” Frances said optimistically. You really didn’t know. It was a bit after four p.m, so you didn’t know if it was for work or if he was actually on a date. Either option, you couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy. Of course, you couldn’t stop him from working, but if it was anything outside of work, the thought made your heart sink.

“Well you’re gonna have to suck it up because I just paid and he’s sitting right by the door,” Alice said, gathering her purse. You closed your eyes for a moment, preparing yourself to simply just walk by him, and you hoped he wouldn’t see you as you were doing so.

You walked behind the two, following them to the exit of the diner as you looked at Harry the whole time. He hadn’t noticed you at first, but until you walked past by his table, he definitely saw you.

As you two made eye contact, it was like you were sucked in; never for a second breaking contact with him as his green eyes captured yours. You noticed his face perk up, smiling widely.

“Hey,” he greeted.

“Hi,” you said with a smile as you stopped walking. Alice and Frances heard you causing them to stop walking as well.

“How are you? Haven’t seen you in a while,” he said; the person sitting across from him was completely forgotten as the woman watched the interaction between you two as she stirred her coffee.

“Yeah. Uh, two weeks,” you nodded, silently cursing yourself as you seemed like a complete idiot for keeping track.

You took the time to subtly look over to the person on the other side of the booth, and saw a very gorgeous looking woman who was probably in her late twenties. She was tan and had long locks of red hair, and her outfit was quite cute as well. And if you weren’t swooning over Harry, you would definitely be swooning over the lady in front of you.

“Yup, two weeks,” he confirmed.

In all honesty, he’s missed you. You two had only met once, but he’s missed being around you—your presence comforted him.

“I should get going. Have a lovely rest of your day, you two,” you told Harry and his date before walking out with Alice and Frances.

Your face remained neutral as you walked out as the girls followed. Once you were outside, they both put an arm around you, comforting you.

“I’m sorry, doll,” Frances said sadly.

“I mean, at least you weren’t too attached, right?” Alice said, somehow convincing you.

“Yeah…” you agreed, but in all honesty, you were already attached. You’ve known him for tops, two hours, and in those two hours, you came to the conclusion that you really like him. That may make you a bit crazy, but you couldn’t help how you feel. Harry’s charming and sweet and humble. How could you not fall for him?

“It’s okay! Let’s have a dolls night? We can watch a movie at my house and maybe a sleepover?” Frances suggested, and Alice nodded her head eagerly.

“I’m up for both, what do you say doll?” They both looked at you with pleading eyes, wanting you to agree to have a night with them to simply take your mind off Harry. And you wanted that too; to just be with your girls and out of your parent’s home.

“Both sounds lovely,” you agreed, and they squealed in excitement as you three walked to your car, hoping your mind gets a break from thinking about the man inside of the diner.

Harry was sitting in front of a woman that didn’t really spark his interest. Don’t get him wrong, she was very stunning in every way, but he’d noticed that you really set the bar for him.

After your little cloud nine adventure together two weeks ago, Harry had three customers within those weeks. One of them was married, so they only stuck to oral as she claimed that “it’s not fully cheating if I don’t go all the way,” to which Harry was baffled by her explanation. The next one was a young man, probably the same age as Harry or a little younger, and he told him that he was curious what it was like to have sex with another man. So, Harry fucked him and met all his expectations, to which he got a very decent tip from him. The next one was a woman his age that works at a fancy restaurant, and told him that it was her only day off and decided that she needed to get laid, and of course, Harry helped her.

But those three encounters did not compare to you. He mentally slapped himself thinking he was crazy that he was even comparing others to each other, but he couldn’t help it. Since the very first time he saw you, he thought you were the most beautiful person he’s ever seen. And it wasn’t just the way you felt around his raging hard on, but it was the way you talked to him and the way you listened to what he had to say. He felt important and valid when he was around you because that’s how you treated him.

And Daren can throw so many women and men his way, but Harry’s come to the conclusion that you’re always going to be on his mind, despite only knowing each other for less than a day, he was completely whipped.

“Harry?” Jeannette, the woman from across from he said. He broke out of trance and softly smiled at her. “Are you okay? You kind of blanked out.”

“Oh, yeah. I am. Did you want to get going?” He suggested, and she perked up at that, nodding her head excitedly.

Harry and Jeannette headed over to her apartment where they talked for about a minute or two before she inched closer to him, giving him a kiss to his cheek. Harry turned his head slightly, and she captured his lips against hers.

As they kissed, her hand traveled to his crotch and he was taken by surprise as he slightly jumped as she rubbed the front of his pants. Usually, he would be turned on, but there was a sort of rushness he felt through her actions that he wasn’t into, and he was sure she felt it in the kiss he gave her. And he wasn’t even hard.

The kiss he gave her was one that had no effort, but kissing just to kiss and going with the flow as she was the one in control of it.

“I-I’m sorry,” he said as he pulled back. Jeannette’s lipstick was all over the place and he’s sure that there’s some on his lips as well.

“Is something wrong?” She asked concerningly.

“Uh, I…yeah. Can we just take it slow?” He asked hesitantly, and she nodded her head slowly.

“Sure,” she said as she waited for him to make a move or say something.

But Harry was lost in his mind as he thought about you. And he knows he shouldn’t when there’s a gorgeous girl right in front of him, but the occurring thought of you washed throughout his mind and there was no effort in stopping it.

He thought back to the day when he met you up to when you two had sex. He loved the way you built up the sexual tension and the way you teased him into sexual agony. The way you would smirk at him when he would do something sexy or when you would participate in his playful banter. And he couldn’t forget about the slight dirty talk that came out of your mouth, to which he knew there’s more from where the words came from, but since it was your first time together, there were only a few words. But those words were enough to cum twice.

“It’s her, isn’t it?” Jeannette suddenly said, and Harry’s brows raised in confusion.

“I’m sorry?”

“The girl from the diner. There’s something between you two, I can tell,” she explained.

Harry chuckled, scratching his head as she read him very well. “I-I mean there’s nothing going on, but she was a customer and-”

“And you like her,” she finished for him. Harry slowly nodded, feeling guilty that someone else had to tell him.

“Yeah—I’m sorry. I know you came to the shop for a good time, and I’m sorry I couldn’t deliver,” he apologizes with a small frown on his face, and she waved it off.

“It’s alright. I could tell she’s into you also, but I don’t know, by her wandering eyes, I may be wrong.”

Harry looked at her confused, “What do you mean?”

“I mean, she was checking me out. She had her eyes on me when she was talking to you, and I looked at her as well—saw her eyes go up and down on me. Think she might be into girls too?” She said casually as she got up and walked over to her bar cart, grabbing herself a drink.

“Oh, uh, did you have a problem with that? Her checking you out?” Harry wondered, and if her answer wasn’t the one he was looking for, then the conversation would end badly.

“Well, yeah!” And Harry got his answer. “She was checking me out, Harry. Had some flirty eyes when she looked at me, and it made me uncomfortable.”

Harry controlled his temper, answering her with a cooled tone. “I’m sure she didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. She was probably just wondering who I was with.”

“Still. I know when someone’s gay, and she definitely is. Do you really want to be with someone like that? One who can’t fully give themselves to you? It’s not a real thing,” she rolled her eyes, and Harry was infuriated.

“Not a real thing? Don’t speak about her like that! So what if she likes men and women? Her sexuality has nothing to do with you nor is it your business,” he snapped at her, fully angry and annoyed.

“Woah, why are you getting so mad? I’m just saying-”

“No, what you’re saying is that you’re assuming her sexuality, and also invalidating it. That’s so low, very low,” Harry got up, heading for the door.

“Well, don’t cry when she doesn’t want you and has eyes on another woman!”

“You’re saying a lot of bullshit that doesn’t make sense, but gladly, fuck off!” With his last words, he slams the front door, huffing all the way out of the apartment complex.

He’s never felt so angry with anyone nor had he snapped like that at anyone, especially women. His mother has always taught him to be kind and respectful to everyone. “But if there’s something that they said was wrong, I expect you to stand up for those who aren’t there to stand up for themselves and people who don’t deserve hatred whatsoever,” his mother would say. And that’s exactly what he did. He stood up for you, even if you weren’t, for the Eric and Mack who is gay and bisexual, and for everyone else whose sexualities are being hated on because ‘it’s not the right way.’

When he was walking towards Hollywood, he realized he was in Downtown; way too far for his liking to walk back. But luckily, he had some spare change for the railway.

He arrived at Sweetland a little past five, and Daren smiled, but also wondered why he was back earlier than usual.

“Sorry, Daren. The customer I had today was just…” he trailed off, not knowing how to put what had happened into words.

“What happened, kid?”

“Well, it was going well—kinda. We were at a diner, and went back to her place, kissed a little, but I wasn’t really into it, to be honest,” Harry said, and Daren chuckled. “She started saying things about gay people and how bisexuality isn’t real, and I just snapped.”

Daren hadn’t said anything, and Harry was starting to feel anxious. He didn’t know if his boss was going to be mad because he didn’t get any tip, plus he made a customer angry. But Daren reacted the opposite and smiled.

“I’m proud of you, boy,” he said, patting his shoulder.

“Really? I’m sorry I didn’t get any money and didn’t do my job, but she was insulting people!”

“Hey, I don’t care. What you did was right, and I’m glad you did it. Would’ve done the same thing, and leave them horny and to dry,” Daren laughed, and Harry joined.

“Did it for Eric and Mack too,” Harry included.

“They would be so grateful you stood up for them. Tough world out there, and it hurts that people can’t live freely,” Daren shook his head, feeling ashamed of how society is developing with discrimination and hatred.

“I’ll clean up here,” Harry said, grabbing a broom from behind the storage door. He started to sweep up the dust and candy that’s fallen out of their jars. It was a long day for Harry, and it’s going to be even a longer one tomorrow. He’s got a day off from Sweetland for a couple of days, so that means he has to run down to the studio to try and be picked to be an extra or get a screen test. He sighed deeply, thinking about how chaotic it’s going to be tomorrow, and hopefully not be let down once again.

“Hey, kid?” Harry perked up. “You said you weren’t into when you were smacking lips with that customer…why’s that?”

Harry smirked, holding the broom in his arms as he spoke. “Well, there’s this girl…”

It was the usual ten a.m morning rush when folks would gather around in front of the gates of the studio, patiently waiting for two casting directors to come out and make their picks.

He put on his best clothes; wearing a tan gridded trousers, a cream button down shirt with bottles printed on it, and on top of it, a red and yellow sweater vest. He was always a sucker for a stylish and comfy sweater vest; made him feel very professional along with fashionable.

As he made his way through the crowd, trying to find Mikey, he found that many people were incredibly rude. They pushed and shoved him as he tried to squeeze in between him, and said some really harsh words. He knew he was ‘cutting’ them, but his friend was waiting for him up at the gates.

“Hey, Mikey,” Harry greeted, and Mikey turned around, beaming his camera smile.

“Harry! I’m so glad you’re here. They’re about to come out any second,” Mikey nudged him.

“Do you think today’s the day?” Harry asked his friend hopefully. Mikey always had this sixth sense that he was able to feel the difference between the good and bad vibes from what they both manifested. And most of the time, It was either a blessing or curse to know.

“Honestly…” he said suspensefully as Harry waited for, hopefully some good news. “I have a good feeling about this,” Mikey smiled, and Harry clapped his hands once, loudly.

“That is the shit I like to hear,” Harry said excitedly, putting an arm around Mikey as the boys both smiled in anticipation.

After a few minutes, the crowd spotted two people walking towards the gate as the guards opened them. The crowd of locals went wild, throwing their hands up as they screamed “pick me!”

Again, Harry used his trick of smiling not too big and not too small to make him seem like he was trying too hard. The woman scanned through the crowd, glancing at the eager people. She pointed at the ones she wanted, usually picking about five or six people to bring with her on set; already picking five people.

Once she glanced over to the area Harry was standing, looking over if she wanted to pick another one, but stuck with five. Everyone’s eagerness altered, frustrated that they weren’t picked. Harry’s expression turned into a sad one, wishing he wasn’t too hopeful when Mikey said his senses were telling him they were good. And just as he was about to leave, something struck the lady causing her to turn back around.

Everyone in the front rows saw it, making them smile quickly at her. But Harry panicked because he thinks he’s looking right at him, despite the sunglasses. Harry softly smiled, in case she really was. And his day, possibly his life, changed when she lifted her hand and pointed right at him, gesturing to him to follow her.

Harry was in complete shock, practically not even believing he was picked until Mikey physically pushed him towards the gate because the ladies and the rest were waiting.

“Go on man! You got picked!” Mikey said excitedly, and Harry snapped out of his disbelief, beaming at his friend and kissing him on the forehead before walking inside the gates of Paramount Studios.

He was so in awe of the whole atmosphere; the crew working on building sets, making props, wardrobe, the cameras—everything. He’s never seen the real thing up until now. But when he was picked to be an extra with Mikey when they had first met, they weren’t in front of cameras or a big set; they were part of the rehearsal act that included them being in a room with all the other actors, so this was a huge deal for Harry.

When the ladies led the ‘picked ones’ to a room where the screenwriter, director, and producers sat, Harry felt his anxiety rise up again. He had no idea what was about to happen, but he made sure to do it with feeling and to give his best performance.

“Alright, everyone. In my hand, I have the script of the upcoming movie we finally got approved of. I picked six of you by random to act out specific parts that I think will fit you,” the lady explained. Harry noticed that everyone in this industry was very fierce and strong willed. But he figured, they probably have to because this is a very serious job that has to do with entertaining the entire country. “Think of this as an audition to a movie—because it is. This is the real deal, kids. We’ve never done this before, only picking you all up to be extras, but since we have some small roles that need to be filled, this is your time to shine.”

She grabbed a stack of scripts and handed it to the group. And when Harry felt the stack of papers that could possibly include one of his lines in a big movie, he felt like he was dreaming. He’s never held an entire script in his hands before, and god, he wished he would hold scripts for the rest of his life.

“Each of your scripts has a sticky note on it that says the name of the character that I think suits you all, again, based on first glance. You will go to the lounge area, study your character and the general plot of the movie, and you will come back to audition for us. You don’t have to memorize it, but it is suggested. We just want you to get a feel of the character. You have an hour to do so,” she dismissed everyone as they walked out the door and to the lounge room.

The room was like a movie theatre in some sorts; sofas lined up as people sat and talked about everything and anything. Harry picked a spot in the back, so no one would disturb him as he was buried in the script, studying the character he’s auditioning for.

After thirty minutes of studying the plot and his character, he came to realize that the movie was a romance film. The classic story of a man falling for a woman, but the woman is hesitant. The casting director had assigned Harry to audition for the main character’s best friend. And when Harry found that out, he was ecstatic. The role obviously wasn’t the lead character, but it was pretty close.

Harry took the rest of his time to memorize the highlighted lines. He knew he didn’t have to, but like the casting director said, it’s better to. And he’s very grateful for his memorization game that he’s had ever since he was younger; always memorizing lyrics to songs when only hearing it twice.

With hushed mumbles of his lines, repeated saying it over and over again, he felt confident and he was ready. He had about ten minutes to go before it was time to go back to the room, but he decided to head over there already because he learned that you should always show them that you’re ready; it builds confidence in yourself and it’s always good to be early better than late.

Harry waited outside of the room when an older lady approached him.

“Harry, right?” The woman asked, and his head perked up, surprised one person even knew his name in this place.

“Yeah, that’s me. And you are?” He asked politely, flashing her his million dollar smile.

Always be nice to others; no matter how good you think you are, you never know where kindness will take you in life.

“I’m Shareen. I’m not sure if you remember me, but I was at one of your auditions a few weeks ago,” she told him, handing him her hand to shake. Harry took it as his eyes widened, remembering the woman in front of him. She was an older woman--somewhere in her 60s. Harry noticed that she was wearing a barrette on her head, just like the last time he saw her; probably one of her staple pieces, which he thinks is lovely. Shareen had a friendly face as well; Harry not being intimidated by her like he is with the rest of them as she kindly smiled at him with bright eyes.

“Ah, yes! I remember you. It’s lovely to meet you, officially. Also, love the barette you’re wearing,” he compliments honestly.

“Oh, thank you, dear. Quite a favorite of mine.” Shareen felt nothing but giddiness when someone noticed her barrette. None of her coworkers rarely noticed it, so it made her happy when someone complimented her on it.

“It looks wonderful on you,” he smiled, and she placed her hand on his arm.

“You’re sweet. But I wanted to come by and introduce myself, and tell you that I think you did really well. It’s too bad one of the producers cut it way too short--I was eager to see what you could offer,” Shareen smiled softly, feeling bad for the young man in front of her.

“Oh, thank you. That means a lot to me,” Harry smiled widely, feeling immensely grateful for someone from the industry to say something like that to him. He rarely gets told that he’s good at what he does, and for someone to say that to him means a ton. “But I’m happy to be getting another shot.”

“Me too, dear. I just know you’ll do just great,” she patted his shoulders before walking into the room, leaving him to wait alone again. What she had told Harry had given him a boost in motivation; it encouraged him to keep going and to keep trying. And sometimes that’s all he needs--a boost of encouragement to tell him that he’s doing things right. That’s all what everyone needs.

The other five people had gathered around next to Harry as they waited for another three minutes before they were called in. He took in everyone’s moods as he does, and controlled his breathing and nerves. Everyone was obviously very nervous--Harry was as well, considering this could possibly be a huge step in their careers.

“Harry and Sky, please come in,” a man called out from the door. Sky was another actress that he assumed he would be auditioning with. She smiled softly at him before walking towards the room, Harry following.

The room was even more intimidating than the first time. Five pairs of eyes stared at the two as they walked in and stood on the mark that was taped to the floor.

“Alright, you two. You’ve studied your roles, and now it’s time to perform them. You will be auditioning for page 50.” Harry and Sky flipped to that page as they both studied it for a second. Feel free to use your scripts. But give us your best performance, okay?” One of the ladies said, and Harry and Sky nodded eagerly, nerves creeping up both of their skins.

Harry glanced at Shareen, and found her smiling at him. The friendly face and smile had calmed him down a bit, remembering her words. After a minute of gathering their notepads, she spoke again. “And action!”

Harry and Sky turned towards each other with scripts in their hands; Harry walking passed her, arms crossed so he wasn’t tempted to look down at his lines. “I just…they’re not right for each other!” He said.

“They’re getting married--what can you do?” Sky acted out, a frustrated look on her face.

“Stop it.”

“What?” Sky scoffed.

Harry grabbed her shoulders, according to the script, shaking her lightly and said, “Don’t you get it? We have to stop the wedding!”

“You’re his best friend! How could you do that-”

“Because I’m in love with her!” Harry exclaimed

“No…”

“Yes! I’m in love with her. We have to stop the wedding,” his eyes pleaded.

“You’re insane, Nate.” Sky removed herself from his hold, walking away before Harry ran in front of her to stop her, grabbing her shoulders again.

“Insane? Don’t tell me that you haven’t been thinking about it too. I know you’re in love with Matt,” Harry raised his brows.

“That doesn’t mean we stop their wedding,” Sky scolded.

“But that means we’ll be happy. Can’t you see that?”

“And cut!”

Harry and Sky broke out of character. Their faces returned back to normal as they weren’t two stressed out adults who were planning to ruin their best friend’s wedding. Half of the table clapped for them, Shareen, of course, being one of them.

“Wonderful job, you two,” Shareen said with a delighted smile. “We just need your contact information just in case, and you’re free to go.”

Once Harry gave them his contact information, which was simply his home phone, he walked out of the studio with a big smile on his face. He had no idea what the outcome would be with all of this, but he was proud of himself for getting through it, and he thought he did a wonderful job this time.

“Catherine, I know you can lift your leg up higher than that!” You teased one of your students, giving them an encouraging smile. Catherine lifted her leg up all the way to her head, and you clapped for her. “There you go!”

It was your Monday ballet basics class as little five to seven year olds were spread out, and working on the little number you made up for them. You were exhausted from the long hours of class and plus, it was eleven in the morning, seeing as you were up since seven. But you had an hour left to go before you get to go home, and have a nice bath and a house all to yourself.

Your father was at work, thankfully not going to be home until later in the night, and your mother was helping her friend with a charity foundation. And an empty house and a relaxing bath that will probably end up with you touching yourself, was calling your name.

You haven’t been laid since the night you and Harry had sex, and the most you’ve been doing since then was pleasuring yourself. There was just simply no sexual interest when you looked at others, and you may have to just curse Harry out for ruining your sexual life for you, but you were fine getting yourself off.

As you watched your class run through the routine, you felt a presence behind you, causing you to turn around and see Tyler smiling at you. Tyler was one of the few guys who taught ballet, and on Mondays, he taught the ages of eight to twelve in the morning; the same time as you.

“Hi, Tyler.”

“Hey. Are you almost done with the class?” He asked.

“Yeah. About 40 minutes left--why aren’t you in class?” You asked, figuring he had about the same time left as you, and wondered why he wasn’t with his students.

“I dismissed them early. It’s Monday, the hardest day of the week. But I was wondering if you’d like to get some lunch after your class ends? I’m free for the rest of the day,” he asked you hopefully.

It wasn’t like you didn’t like Tyler because you thought he was really nice and friendly. When you two had met, he asked you out for dinner, but you were with Chris at the time, so being a loyal girlfriend that you were, you said no, to which he understood. When he somehow found out that you and Chris broke up, he asked again, and you told him honestly that you didn’t want to date nor did you want to go out, and he understood again. But up until now, it was constant questions of asking you on a date and the constant rejection of you saying no. It was clear he couldn’t take a hint.

“Oh, uhm, I was hoping to be alone today…” you scratched your neck awkwardly.

“Gotcha,” he nodded his head. “But another question, why do you never want to go out with me?”

“Tyler, I think you’re a really nice guy and I’ve noticed you have some certain eyes for me ever since we met, but I’m just not interested in you. And I hope you understand that,” you told him honestly, but ultimately feeling bad that you even had to tell him that.

You heard him scoff and saw him roll his eyes, “Unbelievable.” You saw him start to pace, and you were afraid that he would snap in front of your students, so you stopped the music, telling them to take 5, and brought him out to the hall.

“What is your problem?” You asked confusingly.

“You think you’re the shit, don’t you?” His voice started to raise.

“No, I don’t actually.”

“You do though! Think you’re all high and mighty just because you’re a rich bitch, but guess what? You’re not!”

“I never thought I was, but okay,” you said sarcastically, completely annoyed that you have to put up with this dumb arguement.

“No, you do. Just because you like men and women, you think you can just get anyone?” You looked at him amusingly; you think it’s funny he says that because he’s been begging you to go out on a date with him. “What? You’re secret’s out.”

“Never really kept it a secret, and I’m happy about that,” you entertained him as he began to grow more frustrated, but you were completely over this conversation as you were never going to give him the satisfaction of snapping at him, so he could possibly tell people that you weren’t all what you seemed.

Before you reached for the door to your classroom, you turned around one last time. “Hey.” Tyler turned around like a kid who just got scolded, which only added to your amusement. “Feel free to spread that secret of mine, yeah? Makes me proud to be who I am.”

Your original plan was to go home after class and have a nice day to yourself, but you found yourself parked in front of Sweetland, debating with yourself whether you should go in or not.

You’ve been sitting in your car for a good 10 minutes under the sun, and your debate meter is pointing to yes because it’s scorching hot in July in California. But not only your body melting from the heat that your debate meter is green on yes, but also wanting to see Harry.

It’s been a few days since you last saw him at the diner, and it was no secret that you missed him, but seeing his face after two weeks made you realize that you truly missed him. So you made the conscious decision to get out of your car and enter Sweetland.

When you opened the door, you stumbled into someone who was pushing the door out, but you beat him to it, causing him to fall forward slightly.

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry!” Once the man regained his balance, his eyes met yours, and he smiled. “Oh, Harry.” It was the same man that you were at the shop for, and you couldn’t be more happy to see him.

“H-Hi,” he said nervously, running his ringed clad hand through his disheveled curls.

“Are you off of work right now?”

“No, I didn’t work today actually. But we’re still open, so you could go inside.” A hint of pain was felt in his chest when he said those words; wanting to be the one to help you and not one of his coworkers.

“Oh…I was actually looking for you,” you smiled, and Harry’s eyes widened.

“R-Really?” He asked surprisingly, and you nodded. “I’m not working though, I just came by to get my paycheck.”

“Yeah, but I was wondering if we could maybe go out for lunch? That’s if you’re free though.” A hopeful smile was brought onto your face and your innocent eyes looked at him, making it unbelievably hard for Harry to say no, not like he wanted to.

“I’d love to!” He said a little too excitedly, so he toned it down a bit. You chuckled at his lifted mood. “Where would you like to go?”

“Swinger’s isn’t too far from here, if you’d like to check that place out? Heard their waffles and milkshakes are to die for,” you mentioned, trying to convince him at the thought of food.

“Didn’t have to mention waffles—already wanted to go with ya,” he smirked, teasing you as he read your mind while you were trying to convince him. He earned a giggle from you as you walked to the driver side of your car as he walked up to the passenger side. “Ah, missed Rosie,” he said as he got in.

“Rosie or me?” You bantered, starting your car up.

“It’s a close tie between you two, to be honest. Although, Rosie might be winning,” he played back. Your jaw dropped dramatically, slapping his chest playfully.

“Well, what if I say we could share a milkshake? Would I earn points then?” You leaned in a tad bit, asking something so innocent but your time was saying the opposite.

“Do I get to choose the flavor?”

“The choice is all yours, honey.”

“Let’s get there in one piece and maybe I’ll decide then, yeah?” He said, ending the bacon and forth teasing. You giggled as you put your car in drive, and drove off to Swinger’s.

The booth was a cushioned, checkered print seat, but it wasn’t as comfortable as Mel’s, albeit, you’re a bit biased because you’ve been going to Mel’s ever since you were younger, so you couldn’t compare the two. But it was a lovely diner either way.

Sitting in front of Harry was a bit of a dream. You’d imagined meeting him again over and over without it leading to sex, and the simplicity of how the reality of it turned out to be made you happy.

You and Harry talked about simple likes and dislikes as a way to ease into getting to know each other. You found out that he prefered mint chip over cookies n’ cream, and to say you were disappointed was an understatement when he ordered you both a mint chip milkshake to share.

“What? It’s flavorful! Not your usual,” he argued playfully.

“But cookies n’ cream is just a staple. You can’t go wrong with that,” you raised your brows, knowing you were right and he knew it too.

“I mean you’re right, but mint chip is good! We’ll get cookies n’ cream the next time,” he told you, putting a truce on the debate, but you ignored the truce as your heart fluttered multiple times at the words ‘next time’ and you wanted to do pirouettes from excitement. “Okay, okay. Pancakes or waffles?”

“You can’t pick between the two,” you simply put it.

“That’s a very easy answer though. It’s waffles,” he said.

Just as you two discussed how you couldn’t choose between the two because you had to be in a certain mood for both, your food had arrived; the aroma of freshly made waffles hit your senses, making your mouth water.

“So…” you started, sipping the milkshake with your straw. Harry’s head lifted, giving you a smile, encouraging you to continue. “How was your date on Friday?” You asked hesitantly, not really wanting to know if it went well.

“Uh, not so good…”

“Oh?” Now you were intrigued. You tried to contain a smile from beaming out by pulling in your lips together, but your eyes said it all. And Harry read your expression, knowing you were happy with what he said. “What happened? If you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh, uhm-”

“You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said, noticing his hesitation.

“I do. I just don’t know how to put it,” Harry nervously scratched his head as you told him to take his time. “So she was actually a customer from the shop,” he mentioned, and you gulped, waiting for him to continue. “She wanted to grab a bite to eat before we go back to hers, then we saw you, and I was just so lost in thought of you that I wasn’t paying attention to her that she noticed, so I suggested we just go back to hers. We got there and she immediately started making out with me and placing her hand on my dick, which kind of startled me because I wasn’t really hard or turned on nor was I into it,” Harry explained.

“Can I ask why you weren’t into it?” You asked, somewhat knowing the reason, but wanting to hear it from him.

“You. I was thinking of you the whole time, and she also sensed that. And then…” he stopped talking, like he didn’t want to tell you anything.

“Take your time, or you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” you said calmly, having no idea if something bad had happened during their time together, and you were a bit pissed but you didn’t want to force him into telling you.

He took a deep breath, controlling his breathing. “We stopped, and she assumed that you were the reason why I wasn’t into it, and she was correct, but then she started to say things how you were into both men and women, saying how weird that was because you wouldn’t give yourself to one person or some shit like that, and by then I was completely off the rails--pissed.”

“She said that?” You asked with no emotion behind your words, and he nodded.

“Said it was because you were checking her out at the diner and it wasn't a real thing to like two genders or some shit. I was proper livid,” he shook his head, still in disbelief that he came across a person like that. You only nodded your head slowly, trying to take everything in. Plus, this was not how you imagined coming out to Harry. “But told her to fuck off, and how rude it was to one, assume someone’s sexuality. And two, say that it’s not a real thing. Then I left.”

Your eyes softened as you looked at him; a crease in his forehead made you reach across the table and smooth it out with your thumb. His features softened, and he looked at you, seeing your glossy eyes look right back at him.

“Thank you for saying that. No one’s ever defended me like that besides my friends, and that means a lot to me,” you gave him a small smile to which you earned one back. It felt some sort of shock knowing that people live in fear and can’t be who they want to be because society doesn’t accept it, and he felt some sort of sadness when you thanked him and said that no one else ever defended you.

“Of course,” he said, reaching across the table to hold onto your hand, which you gladly took. His thumb caressed your soft skin, making no effort to let go; not like you wanted him to.

“I was supposed to have a relaxing night to myself, but I’m glad I went to the shop.”

“Me too. What made you change your mind?” He asked, and you rolled your eyes, remembering the events that happened before you left the studio.

You told Harry about Tyler, not leaving out a single detail of what he said to you as it was still fresh and ingrained into your mind. The entire time you told the story, Harry also rolled his eyes and scoffed at some people’s immaturity. But you just shrugged your shoulders, telling him that you were going to live your bisexual life freely.

“What’d you do this weekend?” You asked, putting an end to your story as you felt like you were talking about yourself too much.

“Oh, I, uh…had a couple of days off from the shop and I had an audition,” he said with a humble smile. Your eyes widened, jaw dropping.

“Harry!”

“What?” He asked obliviously.

“Oh, I don’t know--you just casually mention that you had an audition,” you said sarcastically; a chuckle from Harry was heard. “That’s amazing! I’m so proud of you,” you beamed at him, feeling so happy for him as he maintained his composure and tried not to get too excited.

“Thank you. I’m trying not to get my hopes up, but it was such a thrill being in front of the producers,” he said, proceeding to tell you the entire story. He felt giddy telling someone other than Mikey or Daren, and he definitely felt your energy, telling him that you were just as excited for him as well.

“Harry, that’s truly so great. They would be missing out if they don’t pick you.”

“Thanks, sweet girl.” The name had slipped out. It came out naturally, but he closed his mouth immediately, not knowing if that crossed the line since he used that pet name in bed.

“I’ve missed hearing that name,” you told him honestly, and he calmed down a bit, smirking at you.

The night was going by quicker than you intended as you hung out with Harry starting around 1 p.m, and now it was nearing 4.

As much as you wanted to continue hanging out with him, you still wanted to have some alone time with yourself since it was rare that you would have the house to yourself. Besides, like he said, it wasn’t the last time you would be seeing each other.

“I should probably get going,” you say, a sad tone behind your words.

“Yeah, okay, sure. Let me just grab the check,” he turned around to find the waitress that served you both.

“Oh, I can pay for half,” you said, beginning to reach into your purse for your wallet.

“It’s okay. Let me; I just got paid. And besides, I was the one who picked the milkshake flavor, so let me pay for it,” he smiled at you, making you blush. “Next time, you’ll pick the flavor, and maybe you can pay if you want to next time.” You only nodded, smiling as you watched him just walk up to your waitress and pay for your meals.

Once he paid, you two walked out the diner; the summer sun was still bright outside, making it seem like it was still early in the day. You walked over to the driver side as Harry stayed still in front of the restaurant.

“I’ll see you soon, maybe? Drive safe,” he said, waving at you.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, I was gonna catch the railway.” he said shyly, and you chuckled, thinking you were probably crazy if you were going to leave him out here.

“You know you’re too kind for the world, and don’t need to get all shy on me. It’s just me—you’re comfortable with me?” You asked, wanting to make sure he felt comfortable with you no matter what.

“Yeah, of course-”

“Then hop in. I don’t bite, that is, only if you want me to,” you smirked, starting your car and putting on your sunglasses. He absolutely loved when you wore your sunnies; you had a different pair on than when he first met you. Today’s sunnies were pink circular glasses; the lens was see through as he saw your eyes, thinking you look absolutely stylish and all kinds of adorable.

“I live in West Hollywood,” he said suddenly, feeling a bit anxious for you to see the neighborhood he lives in because he knows that it’s nothing compared to where you probably live.

“Okay, that’s on the way to where I live anyways. Just lead the way,” you quickly glanced at him, giving him a smile before turning your head back to the road. You sensed his anxiousness as you did when you first met him; and you thought that it was simply his personality—he was a shy guy in general. That’s why you wanted to make sure he was comfortable around you, and not push his limits.

After a few directions from Harry, making a left here and making a right there, you made it in front of his apartment building. It obviously wasn’t a neighborhood you were used to, but you didn’t mind it nor were you going to judge it. It was Harry’s home, and as long as it makes him safe, then everything was fine.

Harry waited a few seconds, not immediately getting out of the car, before turning towards you as you turned your car off. “I had a really nice time tonight,”

“Me too. I’m glad we were able to go out. Until the next one?” You subtly slipped in, in case he had forgotten, or to see if he wasn’t joking when he said ‘next time’ at the diner.

“Of course. I’ll see you then,” he gave you one last smile before getting out of your car.

“Harry…” you called out just like the last time you had dropped him off. He once again turned around, leaning his forearms on the top of the door and bent down.

“Yes?”

You unclicked your seatbelt, making your way towards the passenger side as you kneel on the seat. You reached your hand to place your palm against his right cheek, feeling his stubbled skin.

“Thank you for today, and for lunch. I mean it when I said I had a really great time.” Your face was inches away from him, and Harry was starting to get very antsy; wanting to kiss you so bad as your lips were so close but so far from his.

“The pleasure is all mine. I’ll see you next time, sweet girl,” he said. He noticed how much you really like being called that because every time he does, a blushy smile appears on your face, and he would make sure to always call you ‘sweet girl’ to see that kind of smile from you all the time.

His eyes flickered between your eyes and your lips as it was painted in a bit of lip gloss. He also noticed how your attention was on his lips as well. And before he could ask you if he could kiss you, you had leaned your head into his left cheek, planting a kiss to his skin.

It wasn’t anywhere on his lips, but it was sweet and soft; a sweet innocent kiss that he would always remember and and he was sure he would giddily scream once he got back to his apartment.

“Have a good night, honey,” you said as you pulled away. Harry’s heart immediately swooned at the second time you called him honey.

“Honey?” He said as it came out as a pleasant surprise. You say back down in your seat, blushing.

“Yeah, is it too cheesy?”

“No, no! I really like it,” he smiled, dimples showing off.

“Good.”

“Great.”

You two stared at each other, smiling like idiots as neither one of you wanted to leave. But you two broke eye contact due to the car alarm that startled you both, but both looking back at each other as you two giggled.

“Bye—for the millionth time,” you said as you started your car, putting the gear into drive.

“See ya, sweet girl,” he bid you goodbye as he gave you one last wave and watched you drive away.

As he walked up the stairs to his front door, he thought of how the day had been really good and how much he had fun; anticipating the next time he gets to see you again.

one of my favorite chapters! BE PROUD OF WHO YOU ARE. YOU’RE BEAUTIFUL AND VALID.

next chapter will be posted on September 4! LETS CHAT IN MY INBOX!

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ms-demeanor · 4 years ago

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I think you mentioned the higher male suicide rate as part of why it's clear that depressed men have less support. Just saw wikipedia's list of stowaways, they are all men. Shootings, extreme sports, entrepreneurship, etc seem dominated by men. Meanwhile, women attempt suicide more, but in less violent ways. I had no friends or support as a woman and failed to kill myself because of cowardice. Maybe I'm an outlier but do you think the ability to die may not be indicative of having less support?

You’re not an outlier; that actually describes part of why more men die by suicide. “Cowardice” may not be the right word, though: men who attempt suicide tend to have higher suicidal intent than women who attempt suicide generally do.

Men who are depressed are also more likely to have an issue with alcohol dependence than depressed women and are more likely to self medicate (which is, again, partially due to centuries of history insisting that men have to be strong providers and should not seek help or show weakness - it sucks that you didn’t have support but at the very least as a depressed AFAB person your are much less likely to be called a pussy and told to man up and get over it for reporting symptoms of depression than a dude is) which leads to higher impulsivity and may be related to why men have higher suicide rates while women report more suicidality.

Anyway, these weird incursions into my inbox every three months to tell me that I’m making you feel bad because I believe (based on lots and lots of studies) men generally have less access to mental health resources and community support for the use of those resources than women generally have is, like.

It sucks that you’re hurting. Stop using the fact that you’re hurting as a weapon to try to have this argument with me. It’s invasive and upsetting and you’re presenting a very sad anecdote and I’m sorry for you but that doesn’t cancel out data?

The fact that you experienced a lack of support while seeking help for your mental health IS actually reflective of *most people’s* experience with seeking help for mental health. As it turns out mentally ill people are treated really badly by society regardless of gender. Data indicates that women are more likely to seek treatment for depression than men and are more likely to be supported in seeking treatment and are more likely to have a more robust social life than men do, all of which helps to treat depression and none of which is universal to the experience of all men or women with depression and seeking treatment.

Your individual experience is your individual experience and what I am discussing here are systemic issues and you keep trying to “gotcha” me with shit like “do you think the ability to die may not be indicative of having less support?” when I have never talked exclusively about individual support (though I have discussed building support systems at length) and have always discussed this in broad sociological terms in addition to talking about individual support systems.

I knew a kid who killed himself on the railroad tracks behind my high school. I actually know TWO kids who did that (and at this point four boys have killed themselves on those railroad tracks. We need a crossing guard there or some shit). One of them had recently lost his mother to suicide, one of them had two loving parents and several siblings he was close to. Both of them are just as dead. Neither of those cases, in isolation, proves anything.

So “ability to die” in terms of suicide comes from suicidal intent, which is in a lot of cases tied to increased impulsivity, increased feelings of isolation, feeling like there’s no one you can talk to or ask for help from, feeling like nobody would miss you and nothing would change if you were gone.

But completely aside from all of that:

Hi, this is my inbox on my personal blog. I don’t know why you feel like taking an accusatory tone with me while revealing details about your personal struggles with depression and suicidal ideation, but have you considered that randomly stopping by to tell me about how harmful I am for you and how I’m invalidating your experience while you reveal more and more personal details about your suicide attempts/depression is A) not very good for you and B) not very good for me either and might be considered kind of a dick move?

You sent me a link to a reddit post and asked my thoughts, I gave you my thoughts, and now you keep coming back here to use your history of trauma as a bludgeon to argue with the opinion you asked me to give.

I’m sorry you had a shitty time of it. The fact that you had a lot of trouble getting help doesn’t erase the fact that statistically speaking men are less likely to get access to mental health care for a wide variety of reasons including everything from internalized toxic masculinity to cultural taboos against showing weakness or discussing emotion to being less likely to be assessed for symptoms of depression by medical care providers than women are.

Before coming back here I would strongly recommend that you consider whether doing so is good for you or if this is a form of self harm that you’re engaging in because it clearly doesn’t seem to be a form of positive catharsis.

I hope you are building a network of supportive people, whether that is paid professionals or trusted friends who do not ignore or dismiss your mental illness.

But yelling at me over whether or not you wanted to die hard enough is a pretty strong indication that I am *not* part of your support network so I’d recommend that you look for help elsewhere.

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livelivefastfree · 4 years ago

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Love your cyborg!Chuck fic!! Wondering about a thing that didn't get addressed much: Julie obviously knew? the whole time? and Chuck, presumably, also knew about her, and obviously they had a mutual secret-keeping pact...but is Mike ever going to wonder what was up with that? Or are we supposed to assume he's figured out, post-finale, that Julie is Kane's daughter? And any chance of a prologue of Kane presenting Chuck to Julie like (I imagine), "Happy birthday, Julie-bear! Have this cyborg"?

This has been in my inbox since I published my first cyborg Chuck fic ever, so like...(*checks the release date on Override 0*) four years, lord. And the drabble has been sitting in my documents for almost as long lol. Hopefully this gives some explanation as to how a valuable cyborg full of experimental KaneCo tech ended up slipping out from under Kane’s nose, lol.

"I got you something," says her dad, and Julie thinks--oh, another stuffed kitten plush, maybe, or maybe even another level of security clearance if she's lucky--

She's not lucky.

"Dad," she says, with brittle sweetness, because she really really hopes she's misunderstanding this situation. “What...exactly...is the present?"

Her dad snaps his fingers. The boy standing behind him jitters, tries to step forward, almost crumples over, stands again. He's twitching and shivering like he's got some kind of tic, but his eyes are the part that really freak Julie out. Lit up and flickering from the inside, but weirdly unfocused and too wide. He's staring into nothing, and he looks like he should be swaying, like he should be unsteady on his feet, but now that he's standing he's just...still. Barely breathing, hardly blinking.

"I've seen that you've been doing some programming," her dad starts, and Julie makes a tiny, involuntary noise, trying to hold in a slightly hysterical giggle. Her dad either doesn't hear or doesn't bother to be concerned. "--This was a failed experiment from research and development, but if you want to try to learn to code..."

"What do you mean, a 'failed experiment'?" says Julie. "Is he-- Are you--?"

The boy doesn't seem to hear her talking to him. Julie's dad laughs, indulgent. "A cyborg," he finishes for her. "A failed one. He's harmless." A wry twist of his lips and an edge to his voice--Julie can almost hear "...unfortunately". "...But his programming is extensive. Plenty to experiment with. He should be able to tell you what you're doing as you do it, he was a fairly acceptable technician before he fried his brain."

He gives the boy's shoulder a shove, and he staggers forward toward her, still staring at nothing. His lips are moving minutely, Julie can see now--he's murmuring almost silently.

"Transfer registration holder," says her dad, bored and authoritative, and for the first time the boy shudders and speaks.

"...Define registration holder," he says, in a high, young voice that almost makes Julie jump. Julie's dad looks at her expectantly. "Full name and credentials."

"Julie," says Julie numbly. "Julie...Kapulsky. Executive intern?" The old family name is a complete unknown in Deluxe at this point, and it's the one on Julie's citizenship record. It's the safer option, as strange as it feels to say the name out loud.

"Confirmed registration holder transfer," says the cyborg, "Julie Kapulsky." And then he goes silent and still again, staring dead-eyed into nothing.

Julie stands there for a second, and just kind of...internally screams. Okay. Okay. So...this is a cyborg, this is a human guy who looks not much older than Julie, with computer parts shoved in his skull, and her dad is...giving her this boy. To practice on.

"He should have enough brain left to take care of himself," her dad is saying, somewhere on the other end of a long tunnel, "If he's more trouble than he's worth, we can find...other uses for him."

On the one hand, if Julie accepts this, she's going to own another human being. Which is...wow, no. But on the other hand, if she doesn't, her dad is going to take him back, and find something else to do with him. And Julie doesn't honestly trust him not to do something awful and unconscionable with this guy, especially considering the way he sneered when he said "harmless".

He's smiling at her now. Horribly, Julie realizes he's waiting for Julie to thank him.

"Wow!" she says, and manages an almost convincing smile. "That's really something, d-- M-mister Kane!"

"You don't have to do that, Julie-bear," says her dad reassuringly, and gives the cyborg another push in her direction. "Your old man's not bad at coding, himself." He flashes her that strange, warm smile he does sometimes, so at odds with the words that come out of his mouth, the things he does. "...Anything he hears about who you are, he'll scrub out of his memory automatically. As far as he knows, you're just an exceptional intern."

"Thanks dad!" says Julie, with tight, manic brightness. "Cool! Really neat! I'll go and, and practice, now! Try him out!" She takes the boy's arm, pulling; he follows her lead, eyes still focused on nowhere and nothing. "Looks like a ton of fun, thanks!"

"You're welcome, sweetheart," says her dad, and pats her shoulder affectionately. "I'll see you for dinner tomorrow night. Don't be late."

"I won't!" says Julie, barely listening now. "I'll, yeah! See you! Thanks dad! Bye!"

She can't close the door fast enough.

"Can you hear me?"

It takes a second for him to respond; he stirs, blinking, and then his eyes re-focus just a little and he says "...Confirmed."

Geez, that's so weird. Julie holds his eyes for a brief second, looking for any sign of consciousness or comprehension--she doesn't see any. The cyborg stares at the floor for a second, then his eyes slowly slide out of focus again.

"Kane's gone," she tries, and she can't tell if the faint twitch of his features is recognition of what she said or just the automatic reaction to his registration holder speaking to him. "You can come back now."

"Invalid request," he murmurs.

"Do you..." Julie drags a hand through her hair, groans. She really doesn't want to dig into this guy's programming, doesn't want to have her hands on something that intimate when he hasn't given her permission--doesn't even seem to register she's there half the time, and can't imagine saying "no" to her when he does. "Do you have a rollback protocol?"

There's a moment of silence, and then the cyborg blinks. "...Confirmed," he says.

"Really?" Julie's heart leaps. "Okay, well--okay! Run rollback protocol!"

"One executive exception noted," he says, "Authorization; Abraham Kane."

"Can you roll back everything else?"

Blink. "Confirmed."

"Okay!" says Julie, with more confidence than she's really feeling right now. "So-- Do that."

"Confirmed." He looks around, eyes wandering, and then walks slowly to the nearest corner and leans against the wall. Slides down it, holding his knees, leans his head back against the wall and goes still. Occasionally, his eyes flicker again. Other than that, he's motionless.

He sits there for at least five minutes. Julie watches him for the first two or three, then goes and settles down on his bed, pulling up a screen and flicking cautiously through a few shopping catalogues. The flickering of his eyes catches her peripheral vision; first few and infrequent, then faster and faster until it's an almost-constant glow, dim through his eyelashes. And then he gives a sharp gasp, a jerk, and doubles forward, head resting on his pulled-up knees, making sharp little noises of unmistakable distress.

"Hey!" says Julie, and pushes herself up, hurrying across the room toward him. "Hey, are you okay?" And then, with a little more authority, "--you're okay. You're safe now, you're okay."

"Where--?!" The cyborg stares around, eyes round and panicky. "Kane, where-- They'll take, they'll make me-- Don't make me--"

"Whoa!" Julie says, and grabs his wrist, snags the other one, pulling his attention back to her. "Hey, look at me. You're safe.”

Slowly, he stops struggling, staring at her. His face is really pale, ashy with fear, and he's breathing too hard and too fast, like a cornered animal. "I'm," he says, and swallows hard, sniffs, turns his hands so he can grip her wrists. His hands are big and long-fingered, cold, trembling. "I, he said he'd-- They're not gonna?"

"No," says Julie, because god, she doesn't know what her dad said to this guy but thank god he handed him over to Julie instead. "No, nobody's going to hurt you or--or anything." It's dumb, it's--she doesn't own him, no matter what her dad says, but she still feels responsible, and he's huddling into the corner, he looks so scared. Julie reaches out, slow and careful as he flinches from her, and rubs his shoulders, squeezes his arms as he shakes. "He's gone," she says, slow and clear. "He's not going to hurt you, you're safe.”

The boy stares at her for another second, taking fast, panicky breaths, and then--oh, no. His chin crumples and his cheeks go red and blotchy and he just--collapses forward and clings to her, shaking all over, making awful little muffled noises into her shoulder. Julie holds him, dumbfounded and profoundly uncomfortable, and does her best to make comforting noises.

"Who?" he manages, finally, in a shaky little gasp, "Who, are, where am I? What happened?"

"I'm Julie," says Julie, and rubs one scarred forearm in a way she hopes is comforting.

"Chuck," says the cyborg, like a reflex, and scrubs at his nose with one hand, staring around her pod. "I'm, I'm Chuck? I'm Chuck." And then, wavering again, small with fear, "...why am I here? What's he gonna do with me?"

Oh. Shit. Well, it's a reasonable question, as much as she hates to give an answer. "He's not going to do anything with you," Julie says. "Kane uh. Gave you to me. Like, as a present? I'm sorry."

"Why would he give me...to you," says Chuck. There's a weird, focused look on his face, like he's struggling to work something out. "I'm, I, he trashed me, but, I'm a significant, I'm, expensive? Why you?"

Well, shit. Alright. There's no way Julie's going to keep him with her, up here, so she's going to have to pull some illegal stuff to get him free anyway... Julie licks her lips, hesitates, and then decides to take the plunge.

"My name is Julie...Kane," she says, and sees Chuck's eyes flash suddenly blazing blue, blinding. "I'm his daughter."

Chuck stares at her for a long, long second. Then a little longer, then, just, keeps staring.

"...Chuck?" says Julie.

"Huh?" says Chuck. "Sorry, I--uh, I, what did you say? I spaced out."

"I said, I'm Kane's daughter."

Again, a weird, silent moment. Then Chuck smiles vaguely and goes "Ha, sorry, what were we, uh..." foggy-eyed and distracted, and Julie's heart sinks. One executive exception noted. If her dad was going to make one thing permanent, of course it would be the protocol to keep Julie's identity secret. Chuck is starting to look pale, too, dizzy and bleary and strained. Julie shakes her head, shakes the thought off.

"You look like you could use some food," she says instead. "C’mon."

Chuck stares at her, blinking vaguely, and then nods a second late. "Sure," he says. "Yeah, uh...I...yeah. What were we...talking about?"

"It's not important," says Julie, and Chuck's eyes flash once, twice, and then go dim again. He nods.

"Okay," he says, and shakes his head, dismissing whatever he was thinking about. "Yeah. Yeah, I thought-- It's...not important."

#Writing Is Hard #He Scream At Own Car #The Princess #waited too long for this one and nobody remembers the fic it's for but here's this anyway lol #tanoraqui

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

Text

Humans are Weird, “M-Flu.”

Here is a little fluff for you all bc today I am also posting another chapter.

Sorry about the wait but I decided to take a bit of a hiatus over Thanksgiving, but now I am back :)

It was early December, or so the humans said. Krill had never really understood the human’s need to split up time like that. The Vrul did, of course, keep track of their planet’s revolution around their star but that was simply numerically based rather than starting the count over every month like the humans did.

It had been a bit busier than usual which was rather odd. You would think, on a spaceship, that illnesses would be relatively common due to the closed in area with a bunch of people side by side, and that it would not be affected by the time of year like it was on earth. However, he supposed that allowing the humans leave planetside so close to their sickest season was probably the reason.

Still blew his mind to consider that humans had a time of year where epidemics and pandemics were more common. So common, in fact, that the humans just accepted getting sick as a fact of life, and often continued to go to work and be around other people during that time. Of course, this behavior used to be worse, but even with the widespread use of surgical masks during sickness, things still continued to spread.

He found himself, pleased, once again that he was incapable of catching human illnesses, though he did his best to stay away from plant life on other planets seeing as you never knew what he could catch from other species of plant, to which he was more similar than he was to animals like the humans or the Drev.

He reached upwards and plucked a clipboard from one of the nurses before turning towards the door and scuttling out.. He needed to go speak with the commander about the increased rate of infectivity aboard the ship. He was under the impression it would be best to begin a quarantine on some of the more sick patients. Yes it was true that the average human would not be taken out by the flu, but by his calculations it greatly decreased productivity.

Better to keep humans healthy and lose a few people than it was to allow everyone to only work at half capacity.

He greeted members of the crew as he floated the stairs and onto the bridge stepping through the door and approaching the captain’s chair… a chair which was empty…. That was strange? This was around the time the commander went over ship diagnostics. He did this every morning and despite being a very impulsive man who wasn’t prone to keeping schedule, this was a part of his day he didn’t tend to change.

Krill spun in a wide circle looking around trying to find the man as if he expected to see him hanging from the ceiling, though, now that he thought about it. He totally expected to see something like that.

There was a clatter on the stairs behind him, and he turned to find Sunny stepping into the room.

She looked around in equal confusion to him.

“Good morning.” She said in the traditional human greeting, “Have you seen Adam?”

Krill shook his head, another human gesture, “I was just about to ask you the same thing.” He held up the clipboard he was holding , “I came to speak to him about medical protocol aboard the ship.

Sunny hummed, “Well, I came to him about, this.” SHe turned and pointed downwards just in time for Krill to see three of the spiderlings clambering their way up the steps mewling and growling angrily on their way after Sunny. Krill inflated his helium sack and hovered out of reach of the spiderlings, who honestly scared the hell out of him, especially Glados.

Sunny stuck out a foot trying to hold the aforementioned monster at bay, but all three of them continued to squeal and chirp.

“That’s strange.” Krill began, they never left Adam’s side if they could help it, and Glados didn’t particularly like sunny all that much, so none of this made particular sense. Hal, the smallest of the spiderlings chirped the little vocal folds at the back of it’s throat oscillating and vibrating. It was an ALMOST human sound but as if heard from a distorted speaker.

It was actually kind of freaky.

“Where is Conn, maybe he’d know what’s going on.”

“Speak of the devil, and the devil shall appear.” The electronic voice responded from behind them. From the other end of the room, Conn floated forward, his solar ribbons billowing out behind him in long undulating tendrils. Lights on the signing gloves lit up as he made the human language gestures which were then converted into words by way of a speaker, “They are very unhappy…. Worried even.”

Sunny shifted nervously, “What do you mean.”

“I’m not entirely sure. Their language is very rudimentary you see. Their language centers are not completely developed enough for me to read their minds. I can only sense feelings only to a certain degree.” He paused, “It is a smell, a bad smell a dangerous smell.” He tilted his head to the side.

Sunny glanced towards Krill, “Gas leak?”

Conn shook his head, “No….. it seems….. Biological if that makes any sense to you, not that I entirely understand what that means.”

“Latrine backup.” Sunny commented wryly unable to help herself.

Krill glared at her, “very helpful of you, Sunny. Glad to see you humor has evolved to be so refined.”

“Glad to see you even knew that was intended as a joke.”

The Spiderlings squealed again just as the sound of shuffling footsteps, and something dragging across the ground reached their ears.

Thud, thud, thud onto the metal catwalk.

Together, the two of them turned just in time to see the commander haul himself onto the bridge. Or at least, it looked like something that should have been the commander. His face was flushed bright red especially around the cheeks and neck. His eyes were red and puffy with dark circles under them. His hair was matted with sweat. He was wrapped in a large blanket like a cape which dragged on the ground behind him.

He hadn’t changed from his sweatpants.

And he was shivering violently despite both a long sleeve shirt, a hoodie, and the blanket.

He looked like a zombie.

Krill and Sunny watched as he oozed past like some sort of zombie hybrid slug and slumped into the captain’s chair. His sniffled a bit before erupting into a violent coughing fit. The sound was wet and rattling, a clear sign of chest congestion.

Waffles, the dog, followed at his feet with clear concern in her large brown eyes.

The human snuffled again.

He turned to look at them from the depths of his hoodie and blanket cloak, “I think I’m dying.” he said sounding rather resigned to that fact.

Sunny looked nervous and went to step forward, but Kril held her off, “Wait there, and keep the spiderlings away.” he moved forward floating to the human’s head height. Even without his thermal vision he could feel the heat radiating from the human’s body, but still he switched receptors for a proper look.

One hundred and four degrees by the human’s reckoning.

“Sick for sure commander. Sunny head down to the medical bay and order that quarantine protocol. I was going to ask the commander about it, but he hardly seems capable of giving orders at the moment. Have his second take over and then get someone to babysit the spiderlings. Take them to Ramirez and Maverick, they get along well enough.

“Quarantine.” The commander muttered.

“Yes commander, we have alien lifeforms aboard the ship, and no way to know how the illness will affect them. Furthermore we want to make sure no one else catches it.”

“I think I am dying.” The man repeated absently groaning quietly as his shivering grew worse.

“Don’t say that commander, you’re making me nervous. Save the announcements of death till after our tests.”

“Such a Diva.” Sunny commented trying to be funny though she sounded more concerned.

“Go on.” Krill ordered, and she did as told, scooping up the mewling spiderlings and walking from the room. Krill got the commander back to his feet and heard the sniffling coughing humans down the hallway. He was hunched over like some sort of invalid and moved more slowly than Krill, who was arguably the slowest being on the ship.

“Come on, Commander.”

“I don’t think I can make it.” The human sniffled piteously.

“Well you better because no one is going to carry you, now come on.” contrary to the human’s earlier statement, they made it to the medical bay in one peace. By Krill’s orders the rest of the medical team was ready with the protocol all wearing masks, gloves and surgical glasses. Perhaps they saw the entire thing as overkill, but he didn’t want anyone else getting sick.

They sat the human down on one of the medical beds, and Krill proceeded to learn that their Commander was quite pathetic when he was sick. This coming from a human who would run into dangerous situations skipping and singing show tunes now whimpered complaints and begged for medicine.

Halfway through their examination, another human came walking onto the bridge.

Narobi from down in engineering. She stood straight and tall but Krill immediately noticed her elevated body temperature. Her dark skin made the ravaging heat less obvious, but her reddened eyes and the beads of sweat collecting on her forehead was enough. Though comparatively he wouldn't have been able to tell something was wrong otherwise. She was dressed in her engineering jumpsuit, and was rather well put together.

Krill glanced between her and the commander who lay mewling on the bed like an overly vocal puddle.

She smiled wryly, “I see I am not the only one then?” her voice was scratchy and somewhat congested. She was forced to clear her throat at least once the deep rattling in her chest also present.

“Krill walked over to her.”

“Symptoms.”

She took a polite seat on the edge of one of the beds, “Fever, chills, aches, cough, nausea, dizziness..”

Krill glanced over at the commander again, who had his single eye trained on them and had suddenly stopped complaining.

He smiled inwardly,. Narobi was looking at him too with a raised eyebrow, “Good morning commander.”

He sat up slowly stifling a cough, “Good morning, Narobi.” he tried to stifle a shiver.

A wry smile, “Don’t let me interrupt commander. It was a stirring performance, I am close to tears.” Krill wasn’t exactly the best with detecting sarcasm made worse by the fact that her face did not change once while she said that sentence, so he couldn't be entirely sure if she was being facetious or not.

He began to cough again, “I Wasn't acting.” he grumbled defensively looking at her with a serious expression. That didn’t last long however as he was overcome with a violent bout of shivering and a cough eventually leaning back eyes watering form violent outburst one hand on his chest, “Never mind, this is bullshit. Go on just sit there and be a badass, I'll just be over here dying and looking pathetic.”

“Man flu?” She wondered wryly

“You know what,-” Cough, “I will have you know that that is totally a real thing, and I will not be shamed for it.”

Krill turned from his work, “Actually, according to our tests. Both of you have the flu. The same strain probably got it at the same time. We will have to monitor the rest of the crew to make sure it does not spread further than the two of you before determining how dangerous it will be to other species especially the Drev. IN the interest of keeping the rest of the crew healthy for the time being, both of you will be isolated and monitored here.”

“Don’t you think that is going a bit overboard?” Narobi wondered

The commander moaned.

“Actually, I think you humans don’t take illness seriously enough. Just because something is normal, doesn’t mean it's acceptable, and letting people suffer by themselves or allowing them to contaminate other people isn’t acceptable in my hospital.”

There was no arguing with the little doctor as he ordered the humans moved into the clear plastic contamination chamber and ordered to change. Both now wearing light blue scrubs they were ordered into bed, which of course the commander whined that he was still cold and had to be brought a stack of blankets with the great inner eye rolling of Krill, who, had learned from dr Katie, that they were not likely to die from such an illness, so he didn’t have to be THAT worried. Though he was still a little worried, and quickly moved to disguise his concern with a businesslike manner.

When Sunny came to visit that night she was distrubed by what she saw. She had never actually seen a sick human before, which was a wonder considering how long she had been on the ship. The powerful creatures she had come to know as indomitable were curled up in the darkness in isolation. Both of them were shivering between painful coughing fits. Their skin was pale and both were drenched in sweat.

The commander had, over the course of the last few hours slid down from the bed with all the pillows and blankets he had acquired and made some sort of delirious makeshift nest for himself on the floor the pillows being the base and the blankets wrapped around him like a human filled burrito only his mouth and nose being entirely visible. The other human was curled up on her side head resting on one arm.

She sighed quietly.

At her feet the dog whimpered as she looked through the clear plastic drape.

Sunny looked towards Krill with worry, “Are ... are they ok?”

Krill walked to stand next to Sunny, “It looks ugly, but Dr. Katie tells me that thousands of humans get it every year and survive without medical intervention, so they should be ok.”

Sunny glanced towards the containment opening.

“IS it contagious.”

He glanced over at her and then sighed realizing what she planned on doing, “With this strain, only for humans.” With their unspoken agreement made, she stepped forward and unzipped the outer layer whistling for the dog who jumped in after her. She close it off and then opened the door into the other room closing it behind her.

The interior was hot and muggy, and there was a strange smell on the air.

IF sunny knew one thing about humans, it was how social they were. If that was the case, it just seemed wrong to her to leave them suffering alone in the dark. She was about to head towards the commander when the other human curled up and shivering caught her eye. With a call she motioned the dog over patting the bed next to the human. The dog, seeming happy enough to help jumped up next to the human and lay down immediately.

Sunny was pleased at the smile smile she received from, closed-eyes human who reached out a hand and began stroking the dog’s velvety ears. The dog scooted closer curled up against the human’s stomach. The human wrapped an arm around the dog, and maybe it was just Sunny’s imagination, but thought the human’s shivering died somewhat.

Pleased that one of the humans was taken care of, she walked over to where Adam was curled up on the floor shivering and coughing. He sighed in an agonistic sort of way. She grabbed a cup from the side table and filled it with water returning to the human.

She knelt next to him and prodded him through the blankets, “Adam.”

The human shifted sitting up from inside his cocoon.

She had noticed that habit some humans had, especially him. Upset, in pain, sick, they liked to make nests for themselves out of anything comfortable and fluffy in the immediate area. He looked at her with bleary eyes shivering, “Sunny..?” His skin was cold and clammy, and she could see the wet patches from sweat on his chest and stomach. He would be losing water quickly like that.

She handed him the water, “Drink, or Krill is going to get an IV on you instead.” The human grumbled but complied.

He finished the water but was hit with another racking cough that had him doubled over. Sunny sat back in worried confusion. The human sat up snuffling and groaned, “my back.” He muttered, “hurts so bad, but it’s so cold.”

Sunny held out a hand to feel the heat radiating from the human’s skin.

She wasn’t entirely convinced about the cold thing, but took him at his word piling his blankets back on top of him.

She stood and returned to the other human urging a cup of water into her hand before returning to Adam, who had burrowed himself away like some kind of slimy lizard. She took a seat next to him learning against the wall and nodded to Krill who watched her from the outside. He would have been able to come in too, but he was dealing with other patients at the moment.

She leaned back against the wall dozing a bit woken at some point in the darkness as something moved close to her crawling up to rest itself on her legs. She looked down to find the pile of blankets and pillows shifted next to her human pressed up against her. She pulled the blankets back curiously only to find the human looking worse than ever.

His eye had a strange glassy quality, he had stopped shivering but for a subdued tremor. The eye closed and he slumped against the ground half asleep or nearly dead she wouldn't have been able to tell accept for the back and forth movement of his head as he began to dream.

He moaned in pain or fear she still wasn’t sure..

She grabbed the human with her lower arms and adjusted his blankets with the others letting him rest in her lap hoping whatever he was dreaming about would subside before it woke him up. It scared her to watch as the virus ravaged through the human’s body. He thrashed in his sleep disquieted waking up only to fall asleep again in the same cycle. His breathing was raspy and labored. HIs body quaked with the cold one moment, and then he was pushing the blankets away for the extreme heat in the next moment. The coughing was the worst, beginning with full body spasms and ending with the human hunched over in agony at the end the shivering causing the already aching muscles even greater pain worsened by coughing. Sunny tried to help tried to get the two humans as much water as she could.

On the other side of the room, the dog licked the human’s arm in sympathy as she shivered. She had to leave in the morning to get her duties finished decontaminated before leaving, and came back later that evening when the dog was getting up from Adam to move back to the other human.

Sunny looked at Krill for an update.

He shook his head, “They woke up, but they didn’t eat. Been resting pretty uneasily, Commander says he keeps having nightmares. Narobi reports her dreams aren't exactly pleasant either. Dog seems to help, she's been keeping them good company.”

Sunny nodded, “It looks so…. Painful.”

“You have anything like it on your planet?” He wondered.

“Rot lung I guess, but its slower, sort of a lifelong thing…. I suppose you can also get infections caused by wounds, and there are a few others, but nothing like this.”

He nodded, “We can get skin rot pretty easily, but we have dealt with it. The blight is pretty bad and can leave you deformed…. I just can’t believe they find something like this normal.”

“I’m gonna head back in, seems kind of wrong to keep the humans isolated.”

Krill didn’t argue letting her return to check on the far human first. Setting up some more water, stroking the dog’s ears and then returning to Adam. He was asleep as of just then half in and half out of his blankets like he couldn’t decide whether he was warm or cold. She wrapped him back up, and he absently curled up against her in his sleep. His hand rested against the floor leaving a humid mark behind it once she tucked it back in his blankets.

The worst of the symptoms lasted for three days with the humans only getting up to drink some water and go to the bathroom.

By the fourth morning Sunny was sitting in her usual spot as the human shifted and sat up.

He touched a hand to his forehead, and turning to look at him she found the redness gone from his face from the fever that had been raging past two days.

He glanced over at her looking a bit surprised, “Shit…. I thought I dreamed you being here the whole time.”

“No, I determined it was improper to leave humans isolated.”

He coughed lightly and winced, “Sure you did….” He either winked at her or just blinked, with only one eye she had trouble telling, “keeping acting like this and people are going to start thinking you like me.”

She snorted and pushed him over with one hand, “Go back to sleep you big idiot.”

He didn’t sit back up,”Mmmm probably a good idea. I feel like I got hit by a truck.”

“You look like you got hit by a truck.”

He rolled over trying to make himself comfortable, “Rude.”

She leaned her head back against the wall, “What…. Did that feel like? I have never seen anything like it before…. It scared me.”

The human snorted then coughed again, “Depends on what you’re asking about. Your throat hurts like your esophagus is lined in sandpaper, your face hurts because of the pressure in your nose from the swelling and all the gunk in your sinuses. Your entire body just aches made worse by the shivering which makes those muscles hurt more. Then the coughing comes in, and that just adds to the issue and it hurts your throat. Your chest is congested so it's hard to breathe, and it hurts. Generally your head hurts too, and your fever is so high it's just hard to think. When you sleep it isnt well and the dreams are weird as shit. At the worst of it, you're not even sure if you are awake or not….. Short answer is it sucks.”

“I’m sorry….. You humans really got dealt a shit hand…. I never thought it would be so….”

“Easy to take out a human?”

“Yeah…”

“Id say a lot of the stuff we evolved to survive also made our lives shit….. The fever comes to kill off the virus or bacteria or whatever, but it can also cause brain damage if it goes to high, which is kind of a bummer, plus it feels terrible.”

She patted his shoulder in sympathy.

He curled up and sighed, no longer shivering and promptly fell back asleep.

By the fifth day, the humans were sitting up and eating and even walking around a little. Day six they were declared no longer contagious but ordered to wear surgical masks. Still they were left weak achy and commander vir spent much of the time sleeping curled up in another makeshift nest, this time in his own rooms.

The other human approached sunny upon leaving grabbing her by the arm to stop her before, “Thank you, Sunny…. I know you were really there for the commander, but I appreciate you thinking of me.”

Sunny tilted her head in surprise confused that the human would thank her for something so minor, by the time sunny had thought of anything to say, the other human was already gone.

She thought she now understood why ril was always so worried about his humans.

Humans getting sick was actually kind of scary.

She didn’t like it

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zunnyzee · 3 years ago

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This pride, I've been thingking about a few things that, well, are kind of fucked up.

Like, we as a community were so ready to label ourselves we've got hundreds of identities, and it kind of makes the community harder to navigate for those who are questioning imo (in my opinion). There's even a flag for questioning, like, we're all queer, but we've sectioned ourselves off in such a way it makes me feel uneasy. Our labels are so specific, and I feel like it has impacted those who are clearly part of the community, but question it because they need to feel like the label is just right. Then again, I understand the joy of finding the right way to express yourself through your label, it's something we all share as people, but look at what enviornment it's created at the same time. Bisexuals saying pans are inheritably biphobic, pan folk saying to be bi is to be enby, or trans, phobic, you've got people saying that men can't call themselves lesbians and people saying that you can't be both bi and gay, and then you hear how bi people fight to not be seen as 'basically gay or straight' but actually bi' and then you see all the transmascs that still have a sort of connection to their agab, and we've brewed so much hate within ourselves and we're excluding ourselves and we're invalidating ourselves. We are a diverse community, and with that comes many different beliefs about the way our community actually is. I can see how someone can be insulted about how someone else interprets gender and sexuality, I can. We have people in the community who's identity means everything to them because finding out that they were queer changed their life for the better and they felt like a real person for the first time and their eyes were opened and they were free, and then other people use those same labels as if it were a choice, an aesthetic, and it can come off as almost disrespectful in a way. It'd be like if someone were cis amab and they just go 'you know, I feel so much like a boy that I'm going to id as a transman, going from man to even more of a man because I feel so comfortable in my agab and it feels right' like you could see how a trans-trans man (afab) would feel invalidated, right? There's the whole thing about diversity and not everyone is going to be the same, but we made labels mean something, we took the slurs that the cishet used for us and said that we would actually define ourselves, but a label means nothing because we don't really use it like a label anymore. People are getting away with thinking aces/aros aren't part of the community because we've made our labels exclusive somehow. We've got he/him lesbian controversy, which I am shocked to see from the one group that wasn't supposed to discriminate based on gender identity. We're no better than the cishets sometimes, being completely honest. Some gays think dating someone trans automatically makes you bi, gay, or straight, completely ignoring their identity. And to be fair, all these people are vastly small compared to the overall supporting group, but they add up, they really do. Don't even get me started on sexist queers. We made our own definitions, then we made them so specific that we can't even support some of our peers cuz we don't know what the fuck their flag means. And don't say we support everyone, it doesn't matter because you know people are always inventing ways to ruin this shit, like pedos/maps beastiality, and fucking cops (copgender exists). We're not even ready to talk about Mogai, I swear to you we are not the all accepting group you think we should be, and we don't have to be. As a community, we don't agree on what it means to be in the community, some of us don't accept queer as a label despite its current popularity, we are kind of fucked up and we have to admit that. I think that we are creating way more labels than we need, and we are separating ourselves and we are hurting each other. Some people think 'if you identify as y you have to be z' and that gets some people so mad, but at the same time, think about it, without some unity within smaller communities, what does their label even mean? We are not respecting each others

spaces, and I think it's because we over label. But what can we do now? Take those labels away? Tell them they can't id as queer because they're doing it wrong? We don't have the guts, or the general understanding of definitions to do that. We're just supposed to be 100 percent accepting of everyone, and it just makes me feel weird to think about this because I get that some people have a weird relationship with their queerness, but we also act as if we need to constantly define it. And then we go and define it, and then people redefine it like 4 times over because it's not good enough, which is, there is supposed to be some diversity in every group, every label, for anything involving people, but too much and too little are problems in their own right. Micro micro micro labels make people divided and feel like they are different from the others when they could have been a more united group, and not enough micro labels means that people feel like they are conforming to one group and don't feel the unity because of the overwhelming differences. I don't think we're balanced is all I'm really trying to say out of this, I don't like our community as is, it's confusing, it's harmful, and it's divided, and I don't have a solution, which makes me even sadder. A lot of our issues within the community is thinking we're different from each other, from my experience. I've been nb since I was probably at least 6, and I came out as bi only 4 years ago, I'm only 18 but I've been here a little while, I've gone through many phases and stages, and some things were just so unnecessary. Too many times I doubted myself because I saw someone else expressing my identity in a way I couldn't relate to at all, made myself question if I was just cis and faking, and it really could have been avoided, I could have had more confidence if my community just had my back. But it doesn't. And so I have to be queer on my own, I have to keep myself to myself because I can't exist in my own community without my identity being questioned by others. We are not the all accepting group we want to be, but we could be if we agreed on literally anything. But we can't cuz we're too busy accepting every idea of queerness, regardless of anything. Anyways, this is just what I was thingking, I probably didn't word everything exactly as I worded it but I just had to get it out my mind and I'm too lazy too proofread, and plus proofreading might cause me to sugarcoat this even further so. This is my stop, I guess.

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wirewitchviolet · 4 years ago

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How not to Write a Campaign

I have been playing RPGs for a very long time. Back in the day, I avoided any and all pre-written adventures of any sort because my limited experience with them was... just frankly terrible. Weird inconsistencies in tone, unfair encounter setups, too many assumptions about PCs’ motives and actions, etc. Then much later I discovered a group of writers who actually got it, wrote things perfectly in line with how my friends like a game to go, and we’ve been all in on those for a decade and change. But I just finished running a ROUGH one, and I want something good to come of it.

I don’t want to make this a specific review, because... I’m in the industry, I know the people who wrote this campaign, I can guess at some of the problems involved, and I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or reputation, so let me just refer to the offending prewritten campaign here as the Amnesia Campaign. It’s for a big fantasy RPG, it riffs of a particular author’s work, you can probably guess what it is from that, but, I’m trying.

The first problem I need to bring up with the Amnesia Campaign is that it just commits the cardinal sin of long term RPG campaign writing- The mustache-twirling villain who always manages to escape from the PCs at the last minute. I cannot convey just how important it is that you never, ever do this. The worst sort of example is when you plan around the PCs actually confronting your villain multiple times, and failing to kill them, which is a terrible idea because there really is no way to ever stack the deck and account for every contingency to make an unwinnable fight, or even one where escape is always possible, and especially if you’re publishing adventures, some number of groups will kill the villain too early, either shorting things out or forcing a handwave to keep an ineffectual villain in play and pretend they’re still a threat.

The Amnesia Campaign doesn’t quite go there. Having an actual chance to go toe to toe with the villain is reserved for the very end, but it does use another variant, where no matter what happens, the PCs arrive just after the villain they’re chasing has left. Now... there’s a way you can make that work. If you have a villain who cannot be reached in practical fashion, and can launch attacks anywhere within a huge region, you can build a whole campaign out of characters reacting to the aftermath of evil actions they could not be expected to even learn about until the villain has left the scene. Here, meanwhile, we have a villain with a big elaborate plot that requires traveling all over the world gathering things, based on research he does at the very start which the PCs can, and indeed are expected to do, quickly pick up on these research notes, and basically know everything the villain plans to do from nearly the start of a very long campaign. And... frankly, the villain has no real edge to keep him believably one step ahead. He is a mildly wealthy man hiring goons, mundane forms of transportation, and having to negotiate and fight his way through to various sub-objectives needed for his plan, and it is at least strongly implied that he doesn’t have a lot of lead time. When presented with a scenario about someone needing to be chased down and stopped, PCs can pretty reliably be counted on to constantly be rushing forward, coming up with clever ways to accomplish what they need to in less time, and cut down if not completely nullify their travel time. But, like with battles the villain somehow keeps escaping from, I am forced to continuously state to my players in running this that no, somehow even after avoiding this whole side quest by reading the mind of the person with important information, and directly teleporting to where the villain left for by riverboat, he somehow beat them there, and once again, just left. It’s frustrating, and implausible. We end up with a villain who seems overwhelmingly outmatched, but keeps succeeding because... well, he has plot armor so we’re railroading this.

Admittedly, having a good villain when writing a full campaign in advance can be tricky. The safe and tested formula is generally to start off with minions of your main villain, starting with some who don’t even know who they’re ultimately working for, gradually build up to who’s calling the shots and to what end, have a big side trip to prepare for the final confrontation not directly involving the villains, than cap it with a big showdown. If the PCs know who the main villain is from the very start and where to find them, it becomes hard to rationalize anything between. Sometimes you can pull it off if they’re leading an army or ruling a country, but even then, you want to work up a food chain to them.

A similar problem, which crops up a bit towards the end of the Amnesia Campaign, is making too many assumptions about how the PCs react, and who they befriend. In RPG writing, you need to make as few assumptions as possible about the specifics of what the PCs will do in any situation. You can count on the real broad strokes. The party will investigate the situation described in the adventure, they’ll explore the area, find the villains, fight them, win, learn something to keep the larger plot growing, but that’s it. You can’t assume they’re going to team up with this NPC, enter this room from that direction, or otherwise reenact what you’d imagine you’d do in their place, or what happened in your test play of your adventure. This is particularly important when you include a little sidequest unconnected to their primary goal, or you’re presenting an open-ended investigation.

Ideally, you just have a sensible location, have some villains in it with clear goals and personalities laid out, and you scatter around some things to enable various clever tricks if players think to try them, without mandating any of them. Mention where windows are, and chandeliers, and holes just too small for the average human to fit through, but don’t, as part of the Amnesia Campaign does, invest heavily in the assumption that the PCs will start investigating a sewer system when investigating how a cult gets around a city and go sparse on other possible clues. Also don’t waste adventure background note space on thousands of years of history at the expense of what the actual current problem in the area is and who or what is behind it.

The next problem is one that, were I the average consumer just buying this book would bother me a hell of a lot more than it does as someone who knows how the sausage gets made. Put mildly... you do not want to play a rogue in the Amnesia Campaign. Nor do you want to play a swashbuckler, a critical-hit focused character of any stripe, really any class out of the... roughly 25% of all classes who rely on knowledge of where to make a hit count the most to do the full amount of damage with their attacks, because practically everything is immune.

Now, again. I partly understand how this happens. We have several different authors writing different chapters of the campaign, simultaneously, in pretty unforgiving crunchy conditions, with just a rough outline to go off. Nobody really has a chance to confirm notes and say “hey, did your chapter totally invalidate one of the foundational character archetypes, because I was thinking of doing that and having two of those back to back would be a bit much.” And while the publisher of the Amnesia Campaign does throw out little booklets of tips for players on what sort of character concepts will/won’t work, they’re not written last, so this sort of tip is missing there too. On the other hand, it’s a huge problem within nearly any given chapter just on its own. If you’re making the call on what all monsters to include in a multi-level stretch of a campaign, you should generally avoid choosing nothing but monsters immune to one of the most common bread and butter class features. And honestly, given how the subject matter naturally lends to the deployment of a particular monster type, erring on the side of assuming everyone else is heavily deploying them wouldn’t be a bad assumption for any author to make.

This though, unlike the rest of my gripes, is ultimately a high level problem that needs a high level solution. When you’re publishing a whole campaign, and you’re doing it in a game where several foundational character concepts kinda live or die based on things like whether things are properly harmed by particular flavors of damage, or whether a decent percentage of enemies fall under a certain classification, that really shouldn’t be a double-blind. Coordinating to get all authors to use a decent spread, or include outline notes like “it’d make sense for about half the enemies in this chapter to be fire elemental themed in various ways, but keep a good variety otherwise,” and/or trying to get a rough handle on emergent themes to adjust for/warn about in player-facing pitch material. Even the best-written campaigns are prone to rude awakenings or hilarious reductions in challenge as turns out, say, going all in on cold damage does indeed pay off for the one with Fire in the title.

Meanwhile, on the other side of that coin, more or less, huge swaths of the Amnesia Campaign really just completely break down by failing to account for some basic standard issue capabilities of a typical party. Particularly the fact that past a certain point, you need to account for the fact that the PCs are almost certainly capable of flight. It’s a thing that happens. If you are really keen on writing adventures where local warlords are chilling out on the open-air rooftop patios of their otherwise heavily fortified fortresses, or melee-oriented monsters plan an ambush in a canyon in a vast wasteland, or a dangerous leapfrog between a series of elevated platforms over something dangerous, you want to make those low-level adventures, or else a typical party, possibly even accidentally, will just completely circumvent the whole thing. There is a whole lot of that in the back of the Amnesia Campaign. My group... literally skipped giant swaths. Heck, there was a whole side quest in the last book where the PCs are rewarded with the location of a giant obelisk which I had to cut because... it was in the middle of a big open outdoor space, and they flew over the city on the way in. They definitely had a view over those hedges.

This sort of dovetails into the next issue, consistently escalating threats. The whole fantasy RPG gimmick is that at level 1, you’re a helpless peasant barely capable of doing anything remarkable, and by level 20 you’re literally punching gods in the face and have more money in your pocket than everyone else in your home country combined (with the obvious exception of the other people in your party). Now, mechanically, balancing around that is a very easy math problem. Characters of level X are meant to deal with threats of level Y, either pull a Y level monster out of the book, or slap levels on something lower to bring it to that point, or spread that out over more enemies, then they drop Z amount of fancy loot. Easiest thing in the world. But you also need things to fit together thematically. You can absolutely throw fighter levels onto the local chicken-stealing goblins to make them mechanically as threatening as a demigod bursting through from another plane of reality, but when a group of characters is at a level where they can be expected to handle the former, it’s just plain weird for them to end up dealing with the latter. Like, yes, these particular goblins have 200 HP instead of the usual 4, so the local town guard can’t handle them, but that should never be true of chicken-stealing goblins. You don’t get that tough stealing chickens, and once you’ve gotten that tough, you should have your sights set a good deal higher than that. At least be stealing rocs or something.

The 4th chapter of the Amnesia Campaign is a particularly blatant example of not getting this, featuring a large number of “please be aware the party can fly at this level” moments mentioned above, and also just demanding the PCs deal with problems that really are beneath them at that point. Seeking out local guides, impressing petty local warlords, getting challenged by giants they must impress to rest safely when crossing a huge desert. These are... not appropriate speed bumps at a point in the narrative where the party is traveling to a location where they are going to literally fight a god, weakened or otherwise. The whole setup would be wonderful as the first chapter of a campaign, but that far in, it just doesn’t work. Particularly when the actual opening of the Amnesia Campaign sets the tension very high right off the bat, with extradimensional threats, shapeshifters, an evil cult, things that typically come later as things start to escalate.

This isn’t to say you can’t mix things up a little. Dealing with threats well below a party’s capabilities can be really nice as a chance to just sort of flex, and get some perspective on how much more capable they’ve grown over time, but you have to do it in a low-tension point of the narrative, and a little self-awareness about it doesn’t hurt.

Finally, while I really kinda hate modern wealth-by-level assumptions, they are baked into the design of the game, so if you’re running with it, you really need to make sure you’re really giving the players something they can use. The Amnesia Campaign really leans heavy on treasure being weird oddities that may be of value to a collector... while also being set, generally, in places so totally removed from civilization that shopping trips aren’t really practical. Much less those needing the party to really find the right sort of buyer.

Really, you want to give out entirely practical loot (really hard to do without knowing the party makeup, but variety can work), big piles of cash/sellables along with sufficiently large cities along the way for viable shopping, or raw materials suitable for crafting plus ample time to really do something with them.

Anyway, hopefully this has come across more as practical constructive advice for anyone writing a campaign, either as a printed product or just for your home game, not just me tearing into the Amnesia Campaign at length.

#rpg #game design #gm advice

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onisiondrama · 4 years ago

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(Note: I’m not repeating stories he’s told before and just putting them in parenthesis. I have a lot more videos to go until I’m caught up so that would save me a lot of time. If he gives details I never heard from him before, I will type those.)

“Should I Get A Divorce?” Speaks, Oct 6, 2020

- This video is weird. He’s trying to make himself seem smart and insightful about marriage because his marriage is “successful”, while most people complain about their marriage. - There’s one part where he says people don’t understand you don’t have to be lied to or cheated on in a relationship. Which is pretty ironic coming from him. He shows a clip of an upset wife asking her husband what he’s doing with a woman in a bedroom. The husband and the woman are getting dressed. The husband keeps asking “Who?” “What?”, pretending the woman isn’t there. Later he shows more of the clip where the wife is still questing him. He keeps pretending he doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She looks in the bedroom again and the woman is gone. The wife looks confused. Love that gaslighting. Just like when Jamsey boi cheats. “I didn’t cheat. It was the other person who cheated on you, my spouse” “You said I can’t have oral or vaginal sex with your friend. You didn’t say anything about anal.” - In another part he says there are people who constantly complain about their s/o and they hide away in a man cave.. he says this while in his garage man cave. 😑 Which we know he spends most of his time in. Like, way longer than normal working hours. - He says he used to look angry in his old Speaks videos because of his marriage at the time. That’s total crap. He only shows clips from videos where he used his old militant persona for videos like his anti-meat videos. He made plenty of mushy Speaks videos talking about how happy he was with Skye back then too. 🙄 - I think he made this video during his short guru / advise phase.

“gotta say goodbye for a little bit” Speaks, October 8, 2020

- Tells his viewers they can listen to this video without watching it if they like to listen to people talk, like Kai used to do. [This is definitely meant to be another guru / advise type video. I can tell by his tone.] - Says he’s married to Kai for almost 8 years. (How Kai found James story) Says he married a fan and had children with them. He says they now have an awesome dynamic, but he knocks on wood because people who are together 18 years still get divorces. Says you never know, things can suddenly fall apart. - Says it’s cool because at the time he didn’t listen to social standards. Kai was 17 at the time, but lied about his age. Most people would have said don’t go for the relationship because Kai lied and the age gap, even though it was legal. He listened to the law and his heart and now he’s in the happiest marriage of his life. - “F society.” If he listened to society, he wouldn’t know where he’d be or what relationship he’d be in. Says you have to follow the legal system or your life is ruined. - Says he was an air force cop at one point because he believed in justice. He doesn’t think he wanted to shoot people, but he excelled in the cop program. He says he met Magic Johnson in the cafeteria at Lackland Air Force Base. He barely knew who Magic Johnson was, but he thought it was cool a famous basketball player was there. James asked him if he could take a picture and he said yes. He says he took a picture of him like a reporter and not a selfie. He still regrets that. - Says he wants to talk about the future of this channel. Some people appreciate he’s been uploading every day, but he wants to focus on sites that aren’t shadow banning people or algorithmically demoting people. He feels like Youtube is king in letting negative opinions prevail, even if it’s invalid. If the engagement shows people are mad at you, Youtube used to go the harsh truth route. He says that was nice. He says he once made a fake meltdown video in response to a video Leafy made about him. He says it’s fun for him to make fake meltdowns. - He says he and Kai took a quiz today and found out Kai’s IQ is 136 and his is 129, so Kai is smarter than him. - After the meltdown videos, Youtube algorithm didn’t favor him as much. He says maybe it was because he said they were fake. - He says he has been thinking about websites and how they treat users. Says Twitter is one the best because they don’t care about what your opinion is. They just care about their rules. Says if people don’t like you on other sites, they will shadow-ban you and you’re done for. He says his reaction video to Leafy’s video got 1/6th the views Leafy did, so there was a bleed over of traffic. Now when someone says something negative about you, YouTube will only promote videos that agree with that narrative. Says if you only want to hear negative stuff about Joe Biden, you’ll only see negative stuff. He says it’s financially productive, but it’s not ethically productive.

[I just want to pause here and vent a second. Yes, James fell out of the YouTube algorithm, but he’s had plenty of chances to sweep back into it. Like when he was getting tons of views on those fake meltdown videos in January. The reason those viewers didn’t stay is because there is nothing good for them to watch. His Speaks videos are boring, long, rambling messes. He repeats himself, contradicts himself, talks about the same topics over and over. These videos are mind-numbingly boring. His comedy videos are extremely outdated. The characters, topics, and humor he uses are not going to get him anywhere anymore. Like is the Death Note fandom really that strong in 2020? That anime came out 14 years ago for Christ sake. His music is not particularly good or interesting. On top of all this, his reputation is complete garbage.

People just don’t want to watch Onision. If the algorithm tried promoting his Speaks videos, I guarantee most people are actively choosing not to click on his videos. The non-subscribers that do click probably regret it. He’s made ZERO effort into making interesting or engaging content. He’s ONLY been making Speaks content that either fuels his ego or defends himself using the same old arguments he’s used 100+ times before. He’s got to be in some kind of deep denial if he thinks his Youtube views are down because of the algorithm.

There used to be a saying that whenever Onision’s fans grow out of him, there will always be a crop of young teens that start watching him. That’s not happening anymore. It’s not cool for the alt / loner kids to watch edgy Youtube videos anymore.]

- Says people only want to hear things they agree with, people want to take what he says out of context, blah, blah. I’m only 1/4th of the way through this damn video. - He asks why he’s busting his butt when there’s no chance for him to prevail on Youtube or anywhere. He says he’s on TikTok, OnlyFans, Twitch. [This video was from before his partnership was taken away on Twitch.] He says those are slightly less problematic because they are driven by human beings and not drama. - He says when you see him posting less to Youtube in the future, you’ll understand why. He says he wants to wait you guys out, 2 years, 20 years. (He tried to call out Shane story.) He says he had to wait a year or two until people admitted he was right about Shane. He says he has conflicting feeling about Shane because they had a personal friendship. Says Shane told him they were friends. - He says you guys seem to drive your narrative and agendas by emotion rather than science and facts. He can’t reason with them unless he picked a greater evil and wages war on that. You would have to join forces with him because the enemy of my enemy is my friend. He says he wouldn’t do that because he’s not interested in being a professional wrestler and making fake drama. - In time you will feel passionately about other things. You don’t actually care about anyone involved because none of you are consuming yourself with anything that is not pop culture. You’re only interested in things other people are pretending to care about. None of you would care if someone found three bodies in a basement. If they were not celebrities you wouldn’t care. You only want justice for things that will get you attention. - If someone builds their whole platform about anti-person they might get bored and become anti-you. That’s why you don’t want to be friends with dramatic people. - He says he was dramatic about things, but that’s because he did care about those things. He wasn’t talking about 3 bodies in the basement either. - Says a long time ago when a celebrity died, he pointed out 30 people were murdered and washed ashore in another country. No one was talking about it because they probably didn’t hear about it. Nobody actually cares about human lives. If you did, every second that a human dies you’d be tweeting about it. - (Sarah blackmail story.) He says in a number of words Sarah said she wouldn’t ruin his life if she slept with him, then went back on it. [Wow. He really morphed his original story. It used to be: One time she jokingly said she could ruin our lives. Later we wanted her to sign an NDA and she said only if she gets something out of it, meaning sex. James said it was “good vibes” that day and he perceived that as her being kinky. She also said it was just a joke in the “proof” clip he always uses. They signed the NDA, then James pressured / tricked Kai into having sex with himself and Sarah. Then Sarah later came back and he decided they should have anal while Kai was out of town because Kai didn’t say no genital to butt. He only said no genital to genital and no genital to mouth before he left.] He says he decided to no longer sleep with Sarah because it was toxic and he decided he would rather be ruined than be with Sarah. [I have a theory he stopped sleeping with Sarah because he was afraid of Kai finding out. If he was truly afraid of Sarah ruining his life, why did he make those videos about weed smokers and BPD that would piss her off? She didn’t speak about their relationship publicly until he started bashing her through those videos.] Says Sarah went ahead and ruined his life and you fell for it. - He keeps mentioning Joe Rogan. - He says others have said he built an empire, uploaded thousands of videos. He gave so much of his life entertaining people and making them laugh. It was so important to him. He changed a lot of lives for the better. Says if you look on Twitter before the drama, you’ll see a lot of people thanking him. Says he was a positive influence to millions of people. That’s a fact. It all came crumbling down because people lied. They’re all criminals he kicked out of his life. He tries to play hero and he was only right with Kai. Kai wasn’t playing victim, he was on his way to college to be a surgeon. Once he was in the process of having kids, he lost the taste to be in a surgery room. Instead he got a bachelor’s in psychology. Kai’s diagnosis of James is aspects of narcissism, but says he doesn’t meet the qualifications to be a full blown narcissist. - He is investing a lot of time in people who don’t listen and don’t appreciate his content. Social media is a drug that tries to take up as much of your time as possible to make advertisers money. He doesn't create content that lies to you or brainwashing you into thinking your opinion is valid. He doesn’t pander to you to make money. Says when he says he’s one of the most honest people on Youtube, the bar is low. OnisionSpeaks is snake poison because snakes don’t survive on this channel. They aren’t going to have a voice that isn’t questioned. Most snakes on Youtube don’t even know how to activate charities on their channels. - Says he had a conversation with Kai about someone who said they vote for the economy over people. Humans are divided between helping their neighbor and helping themselves. - Says he was never taken to court because he never did anything. He’s still posting to places that he thinks is beneficial to himself and his family. Why would he stop because people have a bad idea of him? You shouldn’t alter your life just because people have an opinion of you. If you quit it makes you look guilty. If you quit you’re either guilty or incapable of dealing with it. He says he’s used to dealing with abuse since he began social media. - He wants to create content and help people and make them laugh. He wants to be socially capable and experienced. His ambitions are aligned with what he’s doing. - He says he can’t forgive his father if what people say about him is true. Everyone else he can forgive. If you are at odds with him, he doesn’t have any hate for you. He understands people can hear the wrong narrative and make mistakes. Says we are both imperfect people and have gone through different things. Says if we went through the same experiences, we’d think the same. Says we aren’t so different. - Says he’s going away and he hopes you watch all his videos so you’ll know a little bit about who he is instead of listening to what Youtube manipulates you into watching. Says his advise is to quit social media. He wouldn’t quit because he’s passionate about it.

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gevejsbvdj · 4 years ago

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Fine. Pt 1

Okay. I did NOT want to do this. I don’t want it to look like I’m trying to start something. When I made the announcement post, I thought that would be it. But a lot of you got really angry and reeeeally bitter about it, suspiciously enough. I am actually hoping that after I post this, I get an explanation and an apology. I tried to explain to these people time and time again about how I was hurt by this situation but they refused to listen. So here I am, spelling it the fuck out. Also, this account is dead anyways and i am so tired of keeping this to myself. I can’t do it anymore.

That’s enough preamble for now, I’ll make more notes at the end. Let’s get onto the “situation” that was the final straw for me and inspired my complete leave.

For comprehension purposes, this took place in the Crackerbox Palace discord server.

For a warning, I’m pretty theatrical when stressed. If I joke here I’m sorry. I’m going to hold back on the humor.

CW: mentions of sexual abuse, pedophilia, racism, and seizures. You have been warned.

It sounds disgustingly simple, but when I joke about this (to myself, because it’s better than crying about it), I say that me having a seizure was the cause of this all. It isn’t really, but- let me explain.

I was alone, and I was chatting with the people in the server when suddenly- I just felt fucking weird. Initially, I was like “oh what the hell” until I realized that the weird sensation was actually familiar. It’s what people who have seizures call an “aura” or a “ting”, and it’s a numbing, buzzing sensation that’s kind of like an alarm bell that lets your body know what’s about to go down. And I have a habit (you can decide whether it’s good or bad) where I feel like I have to tell anyone around me that I’m going to have a seizure as SOON as I recognize the aura. Well like I said, I was alone. There was no one physically around me that I could tell, but I already had the chat open, fingers on my keyboard, I typed: I think I’m gonna have a seizure. Something like that. And I did. Don’t worry, I’m fine now. The older I get, the less extreme my seizures are for the most part. I got a splitting headache for the next two days, but we’re getting it checked out! This is only context for what happened next.

After that happened I eventually came to and as soon as my senses were recollected and my memory came back, I felt so embarrassed that I told my friends who I thought were super cool that I had a SEIZURE. But I noticed that Ley and Emma (in their genuine concern) were discussing seizures and how dangerous they could be, and was wondering if I was okay. I was honestly so relieved they weren’t laughing or anything like that. Vulture then responded saying “hey can you censor the word seizure, it’s a trigger.”, and so Ley and Emma did so. I was confused by this because I thought Vulture was saying it’s MY (me, a person who has them regularly) trigger, or that they were saying it was a trigger in general? I soon found out that it was a term on our “blacklist”, which makes sense.

So In our server, we had a channel (the prior mentioned blacklist channel) where people can suggest words and phrases to avoid. Phrases/topics that make you very uncomfortable, triggering, etc. Someone suggested that the name “Zack” be blacklisted because it’s the name of someone that manipulated them. And no, not Zach like me Zach, but Z-A-C-K, you know? Anyways, sometimes the sheltered southerner in me jumps out, and someone asking for that name to be blacklisted rocked my world! Even more so that the admins I worked with were willing to blacklist it. I thought, wait all this time I could have asked you all to blacklist a NAME that upsets me? I didn’t know I could do that. Never have I ever been in an environment where something like a name could be avoided to ensure my comfort. While THAT was what I was thinking, when I went to type it in the chat, it did not come off that way to vulture. Here’s what I said:

Vulture took what I said wrong, which is totally fair. Words fail me as they do everyone else, and looking back, I could have done better in explaining what I felt. I’m not blaming them for the misunderstanding, and I'm not even blaming me that much. It happens, man. But what got to me, was them accusing me of belittling or more so INVALIDATING the trigger. Me, someone actually has seizures, invalidating someone being triggered by them. Okay. Here was my response:

My response was unnecessarily snarky and I am still sorry for that. I thought I got better at thinking before speaking but it’s evident that it’s still something I need to work on. However, like I said I’ve never been one to accept it when someone’s trying to have an attitude with me. And no I’ll be the first to say that Vulture wasn’t explicitly rude to me, but I was gobsmacked that someone was trying to tell me how traumatic seizures are and accused me of invalidating them after I just said that I have them frequently. And that even after I explained what I meant, I was still met with an accusing response. Can you imagine if I went up to a homeless man and said “you have no right to invalidate my trauma with homelessness. I read matchbox girl.” Like okay? Also, yes that mod chat had a history with taking everything I said as aggressive or belligerent, hence my telling them to stop that. I was always met with a dismissive and antagonistic response. Remember that. I will get back to that.

Because of Vulture’s immature response, I removed them as chat admin. Do I regret it? Halfway, yes. I should have pulled them to the side and spoke with them about what they did. But looking back on that, after seeing the things they’ve posted today? It’s probably for the best that they weren’t a part of the admin team.

Andy (also known as shadowylemon here) and Cody are partners who also helped me run the server. They were admins,obviously. Andy asked me why I removed Vulture as Admin. I explained to him why, very civilly with the help of one of my friends because my response almost WASN'T. And to be frank, I ignored most of what he said because again I was being made to be the evil villain and I wasn’t being heard. So I ignored him. Also I was on a call so I wasn’t going to break my brain listening to ten people at once. I was so tired, my seizure happened like only a couple days prior and my head was still affected.

I mulled over that whole ordeal for a bit until me and my friend (the same friend I mentioned earlier, who helped me with my response to Andy. Lenny. He also helped me mod there and was the original co-founder of the server) came to the conclusion that the mods were too young. We need an age limit. So I told them, like “hey you guys are fine for now but I think that in the future, we should start having the mods be older”.

At this point I’m super careful with the way I word things. I’m always like that to be honest, as a black (visual-wise, a female) female you learn real quick that you’re the angry one in every situation unless you learn to talk super duper civil. But I didnt think I had to be that way in THAT server, you know? I thought I was safe there. Apparently not. Anyway-

I was met with, again, an aggravated “how dare you” type response from Cody. Which was okay with me, still is. When you work with someone in a group, you’re not going to agree with them all the time. So we were having a pretty civil, short lived back and forth until I mentioned that we tone it down on blacklisting every word. I suggested earlier to blacklist the word “blue” to see how far they would take it and they literally blacklisted it. I didn’t get to say this then, but I’m actually against over censoring, even if it’s supposedly for someone’s mental health. I have ADHD, RSD, on the damn spectrum, all that good stuff, so don’t come for me. But if you’re wanting to avoid words like blue, or a very common name, that is not my responsibility. That is your therapist. The server had people in there who- well English wasn’t their first language, and adding more barriers to their language is, I feel, very inconsiderate.

Cody started to threaten to delete the blacklisting channel all together and was acting really panicky. AGAIN (if I can find the screenshots, I will share) I was met with a very victimizing, whiny response. Like come on now. I told them to please do not make me the aggressor or I will leave.

No response.

So the rest of us were just getting ready to start a call and play some games until we noticed something.

Channels, titles and colors, and nearly everything was being deleted.

By who? Andy and Cody. This is just one screenshot. I wouldn’t include what’s over ten i have saved on my phone.

I was afraid that they got hacked and was being made to delete them. Until I thought “wait...it’s funny how they’re the only mods that are being ‘hacked’ while the rest of us were left alone. RIGHT after I just had a disagreement with them. Oh my god is this a tantrum.” The server then echoed my concerns. Please don’t be a tantrum. We noticed they left and so I dmed Andy. I said “Why” and he blocked me. That confirmed that it was indeed a tantrum. A tantrum because I IMPLIED that they were being micro aggressive towards me. Alright.

Me and the server joined a sort of conference call where we discussed what happened and they asked me questions as well as talked about what our next move was. At the time, I thought I was being dramatic because my breathing was super labored, and my face was super hot, and my heart was pounding. I was furious. There was a tiny voice telling me that ‘hey, you’re mad because after you told them that you were uncomfortable and upset with them treating you like an unhinged angry person, they did all this shit’ but I ignored it.

That is a common theme with me. I know a lot of you think I’m using my race as a weapon and that I call everything racist, but I HATE calling things racial discrimination for that exact reason. I don’t wanna look sensitive, or get called a snowflake. I honestly used to be a self-loathing black person, and you could hurl slurs at my face and I’ll excuse it. My friend group in the 9th grade was mainly racist white people. I’m so glad I grew out of that nonsense but damn some of that toxic mentality stuck with me to the point I never wanted to acknowledge when someone was biased against me.

I mean, how could it be any more clear? Do I think that Andy and Cody are racist? Of. Course. Not. I think that’s why a lot of you got so mad at me when you realized that what you did was microaggressions rooted in racial bias. Because you thought I was calling you a RACIST. I’ve had white people who will march with me during protests say and some really off-putting shit the next day. You can be an ally and make mistakes. You’re not perfect. I’m not perfect. None of us is. You have to allow yourself to make errors, and be confronted. Running away cursing and kicking rocks just tells me that you don’t want to listen to black people.

But anyway, we attempted to move on from the childish ordeal and I enlisted the help of new people to help me mod since we were short two, and could have used the help anyway.

We were doing alright, really. One day, though, Joane messaged me saying that Vulture wanted to apologize and wanted to talk. And I was like great now's the perfect time to talk to them like I should have the first time, but wrongly didn’t. So I told Joane to dm me.

Well, Joane sent me a screenshot of some of hers and Vultures conversation.

As you can see I initially did feel willing to apologize and speak to vulture. Because like I said earlier, my snarky response was UNNECESSARY. However, Joane joining in the discussion with her “I can’t understand him which frustrates me lmao” peeved me. As did Vulture acting like I’m unhinged. While I didn’t need to make the “imma blacklist lmao and lol since it bothers you so much” comment at ALL, it wasn’t that deep….at all. Vulture has a habit of virtue signalling too. Their comment “I’m patient and forgiving” is an example.

While I was annoyed initially, I soon felt pretty hurt that Joane would say that about me behind my back? It made me wonder if there was more she didn’t show me. Joane was a really good friend and I loved her a lot so I was extra sensitive about it. I’ve never spoken ill about her behind her back.

Now, this is a recurring theme in this post but let me say now: I am aware that no one is OBLIGATED to treat me a certain way because I was nice to them. Of course not. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt? Talking negatively about someone isn’t a problem, but having them think you’re their friend while doing so is. You know? It’s very deceiving, but in Joane’s case, only slightly deceiving.

So I just didn’t speak to her for a bit. I was already annoyed at having to re-build my server because of a couple of teenagers having a tantrum, as well as things that were happening in my personal life. Also, the news was no damn help at all, you all know. But I didn’t speak to her for the rest of the day and I...I hated it haha. I don’t like avoiding people when I’m frustrated, and after I saw what happened with Vulture when I did the same thing, I should know better. Plus I felt bad. Joane was still a friend, and I wanted to get to the bottom of things.

I’m not going to include every little screenshot and whatnot, but I messaged her like hey what’s up let’s finish our discussion. Because I thought that at that point, I had my head screwed on a bit better.

During our discussion, I eventually showed Joane me and vultures conversation, and she acted astonished that Vulture didn’t show her all the context, and even said that they were being irrational. This was after I told her that after everything Andy and Cody did, they made a server with Vulture to which she informed me that she was aware, and she was invited. Honestly, at the time I didn’t think vulture was being irrational. While I said it’s no excuse, PTSD can make us say and do pretty wild things, and calling someone like that irrational feel like ableist language.

So me and Joane had a little moment. I apologized to her, and she apologized to me.

I was sure that after we both had our respective breaks, that we would be good to continue our friendship like normal. Just a bump in the road. It happens

That was until I got a certain anon from Vulture.

She asked me why we were done, but when I went to ask her “what in the world did you say to them” she blocked me.

Sorry I keep showing me messaging them, I just don’t wanna get lied to or something again.

I was really sad about that. I went to bed, and when I woke up, I was still sad. Joane was telling me one thing, and Vulture another thing. She was changing her opinion on a person depending on who she was talking to. It was dizzying and disingenuous and I didn’t even get to talk it out with her because she blocked me. Which was really suspicious. She told me that she would be taking a break from the server and that she still respected me as a friend, but went to vulture and told them that I treated her like SHIT, or at least acted enough like a victim to make them accuse me of that. I’m sorry, but where in the world did I do that? If me confessing to someone that they hurt me is the same thing as treating them like shit, then fuck man a lot of us are assholes.

Wow, look at me treat her like shit. Absolute garbage right?

I wasn’t even being completely honest to Joane about my feelings for that reason. Because of accusations like this. Another instance of someone taking literally me being normal and civil as being AGGRESSIVE. Vulture, I’m sorry for accusing you of utilizing white girl tears. I accused the wrong person. But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook.

I went to our #vent channel on the server and told whoever was online and whoever was listening about the whole ordeal, and how HURT I felt because I was literally played by this girl. And I was accused of basically being abusive. Treated her like shit? Cmon man…

But another user in the server, as it turns out, had a similar experience with Joane, and provide in-depth screenshots. Which made me even madder, so we kept venting about the situation.

Also, because of a couple of dms, and because the more I ranted, the more pained I got, I felt compelled to say the following, NOW LISTEN CLOSELY:

I first prefaced my concerns by saying “I AM BY NO MEANS CALLING JOANE A GROOMER”. That was fucking useless of me to say because- okay I’m getting ahead of myself.

So I was saying (and in hindsight, I shouldn’t have. I know. But like I said, it was in the heat of the moment and I got a dm that made me feel bad) that it was strange how as soon as someone young and innocent was present, Joane would cling to them in an obsessive way. I’m not the only one who noticed that, and even one of the younger users in question agreed to my statement.

Listen fucking closely. I don’t think Joane is a sexual predator at ALL. That’s why I had that warning before I said anything in the chat. I do, though, think that if you’re a grown adult and you’re obsessed with being friends with people who are as young as 14, that it’s concerning, not in a sexual way, but in a power dynamic way. I’m only 19 and I honestly don’t get older people who become besties with much younger people. I was “friends” with the users as well, but I was a mentor/brother/dad more than anything. Do you understand? When I was 15, I’ve had people who were 20 and older become my friend and dump their adult problems onto me, as well as expect adult reactions and responses out of me. It was stressful and damaging and I did not want that happening to anyone else, especially the younger people in the chat. Okay? Okay.

That being said, my protectiveness is a major flaw of mine. Oh my god, do I take it too far sometimes, man. I didn’t want really young teenagers (13-16) to have a serious relationship with an adult because of what happened to me, and I didn’t want Joane to play and hurt anyone else the way she did me and my other friend. So I went into the announcements channel and told the users to read what we’ve been saying in regard to Joane and come up with your own decision. I did not have to do that, I can sit here and say that the things that transpired the past few days really took a toll on me whatever blah blah blah. But I could have kept it in vent, really. And the dumb thing is, that before I sent that message in announcements, I was literally telling myself that THIS is a bad idea. GOD, Zach. But I was at work, it was the last day before holidays started, and I was feeling super protective and I wasn’t thinking and- well yeah.

During all of this, I was having a conversation with vulture in Tumblr dms. I gathered the courage to finally dm them after receiving the anon. That conversation was on my old Tumblr, so I don’t have a screenshot of the key points, but I typed my starting message in notes, and this is what I said:

“Hi vulture. I don’t want to be here for long but I just wanna ask: why? You accused me of invalidating a trigger and even after I told you that’s not what I meant you still went off on me? You’re mad at me about an inaccurate perception and it really upset me. I’ve been terrified of talking to you specifically because I’ve been dealing with micro aggressions from you, Andy, and Cody and it’s really been wearing me down. And when I told Andy and Cody about their treatment of me, they deleted shit from my server and leave? How do you think that makes me feel as a black person? Makes me never want to talk about my feelings ever again out of the fear of being antagonized. I’m sorry I was snarky towards you, if you didn’t like my remark about “lmao” and “lol”. I agree it was immature. But don’t forget you came at me first. If you’re willing to further discuss this with me then great, which I am sure you are seeing that you asked me to on anon. I finally gathered the courage to contact you so let’s do this.”

We had a brief conversation. Vulture dismissing my microaggressions concerns but really- it happens so much that at that point I was so numb to it. Also a little bit “it’s not about your race. Remember when I…” more virtue signalling. Bleh. But after all, I did thank them for actually wanting to talk to me. Andy didn’t wanna do it. Cody didn’t wanna do it. Joane didn’t want to. Vulture did. And I appreciate that to this day, after everything. I can always admire that about someone.

It ended prematurely because of me. I was at work and got distracted by that as well as by what happened in the server next.

Emma sent a pretty long message basically calling all of us out for “bullying Joane” and talking ill of her behind her back, as well as announcing that she would be leaving the server and that we should all be ashamed of ourselves. This was right after someone confessed that Joane made him feel uncomfortable with constant flirting. I admitted that I should not have put the message In announcements, but guys.

I went off. I couldn’t hold back anymore. I was sick of trying to be docile and sweet. I didn’t care if I would be portrayed as the angry black again I DID NOT CARE. Bullying Joane? Me talking about how she hurt me is bullying? Let’s look up what that means.

Yeah okay. That’s incorrect usage, right? I didn’t even call Joane names. I didn’t persistently harass her. I spoke about what she did to me in distaste, but I was done with her as a friend at that point, and she knew that, so was not going behind her back. I wasn’t being predatory towards her. And I definitely wasn’t being AGGRESSIVE or BLUSTERING. Emma was using broad pronouns and terms (you guys, you all, etc) but I knew she was talking about me, as I was the most prominent in my venting about Joane due to my situation with her happening just yesterday. I sent the most messages, I- while wrong in doing so- posted the announcements. That message primarily was directed towards me. When I say that microaggressions tear you down, it tears you THE FUCK down.

That being said, I did cuss Emma out (she wasn’t present when I went off, but still) and cussed out everyone who agreed with her. I was so blinded by rage and hurt I don’t even remember at all what I said. One line that sticks out to me though is “y’all saw a white girl crying and thought oh man we can’t have that” and that’s a mantra I’ve repeated a couple of times when I find myself in scenarios such as this one.

But- I do regret going off like that. I would be lying if I said it wasn’t justified slightly, though. I don’t expect any of you to understand completely what I went through, but please try. I regret going off like that, though. And I’m sorry.

I guess I was also upset because I was JUST in a good mood? I was literally singing to myself all happy and shit, but Emma’s inconsiderate message threw me off. It’s making me even more upset now that I know why she said that. She wasn’t the only person to tell me I should be ashamed of myself for manipulating (yes, MANIPULATING) Joane.

I dmed Emma in an attempt to fix things, but i gave up quickly. I was too raw with emotions anyways. So I mournfully told her that we probably should’t be friends anymore, to which she responded

Carelessly?...ouch.

From the moment Joane dmed me about Vulture, and the moment Emma sent that message, all of that transpired within three days. Three fucking days and THAT much happened. It was taking a toll on me, that’s not even counting Andy and Cody’s tantrum.

I was in a dark place, still am. I made a post saying that I was going to take a break from Tumblr and then made one saying that I was going to kill myself in the tags. Not exclusively because of all this, of course. So. Much. Bullshit. Happens to me on a daily basis. Abusive parents. Sexual assault. Racism that’s actually violent. Dying relatives. So much. I’m crying as I type this it’s just so much. In real life, I have no friends. Not even fake acquaintances. Yes, I cut off all those people because they were extremely toxic, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have literally no one. That server was my escape. Parents fighting? Open discord. Mental spiral? Discord is there. Just had a seizure? Don’t worry, you have friends. And now I don’t. And all because of some dumb shit that wouldn’t probably have happened if two kids didn’t get mad at ME because THEY were ignorant. I know it’s not good to rely on a server to improve your mental health, but I couldn’t help it. I was desperate. And I really did think so highly of everyone in that chat. I loved them.

I received a couple asks that night saying that I don’t have to hurt myself, I’m loved, all that. Very kind messages. And right when I was going to delete the post (I was so embarrassed for posting it), I got a message from ley that read something like “I don’t agree with what you said at ALL but that doesn’t mean I want you to kill yourself or leave” something along those lines. I thought, really? You couldn’t just say you didn’t want me to leave and have it at that?

I really don’t want to make it seem like I posted something so graphic for attention, man. I can’t stand that manipulation tactic and I don’t want that harmful stigma about suicidal people to be encouraged.

But Ley’s message threw me off. Agree with what I...huh? Then it pissed me off

So I deleted my account. And fell off the face of the earth for 15 days.

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