#I never was and never will be a PlayStation person nor will I own a PlayStation

[galaxyhybridscentral]

a new hyperfixation has hit the me

But don't worry I still have all my old ones

[myfaveisfuckable]

Rants!

Dante/Raiden: This ship comes from the 2006 Playstation Magazine (PSM) issue 110 endpage drawn by comic artist Adam Warren (most known for his comic Empowered) depicting the hypothetical timeline where the PSM swimsuit special is replaced with a 600 page erotic “Dante/Raiden slash fanfiction.” In this panel Dante’s DMC2 design is shown above Raiden’s MGS2 design (notably the most hated versions of these characters at the time, though considering Warren’s feelings towards Dante and Raiden, this pairing was most likely shown to baffle the reader with a well beloved charactered and a much hated character doing something “humiliating” aka. participating in homosexuality). Dante says “Why can’t I quit yew,” a reference to brokeback mountain, and Raiden says “Please be gentle… like snake”

Obviously this panel is meant to be a joke at the expense of both women who write fanfiction, and gay people, made more clear by the second appearance of “Raidante” in Warren’s work, in which Dante is reading yaoi fanfic and remarks “As if I’d settle for someone as lame as Raiden if I was gay!” However, likely because he has never played Metal Gear, Warren fails to consider the thematic implications of this pairing, considering the narratives of each character.

Dante is a demi-human, ashamed of his demon heritage but forced to reconcile with it. To cope with this, he adopts the persona of a “badass devil hunter with a devil may care attitude” as a form of escapism. Because he cannot accept his nature, nor can he come to terms with his past trauma of demons killing his close ones, he remains in stasis and cannot form deep connections with others.

Raiden is human by nature, but was robbed of his flesh by the patriots. Raised a child soldier, he is emotionally stunted and has very little personality to call his own, resorting to grasping at the persona of “Solid Snake” and tacking on his mannerisms to fill what gaps are left in his development. Even after starting a new after the big shell incident, he relapses again into the ego-less being he was at the age of 10, proclaiming himself a weapon and throwing himself at danger and death in the belief that it’s his purpose.

Both of these people are fundamentally unable to connect with others, breaking all of their connections and distancing themselves both out of fear of getting hurt and genuine inability to retain relationships. They use violence and self sacrifice as substitute for meaning in their life, and degrade themselves to that of a sword. Then, when meeting someone who they recognize all their behaviors in, what would happen? Do their own tactics of isolation work on themselves? Do they cancel out, or override each other?

Adam Warren is too much of a coward to explore this concept in a 600 page fanfic, so I will.

Atsushi/Yanagida: I know this is wild since they are both like nothing background characters but they’re so important to me. The essence of crackship/rarepair. I hc them as having dated because they’re both lgbt but they had a really bad break up so they hate each other’s guts now. Where am I getting this? From my brain. They’re basically like my OCs to me. I want to go on about it but I realize I’d have to explain a lot to you since I don’t think you know the source… So sorry…

[kyndaris]

Heal the World

Despite being nominated for several categories at the 2023 The Game Awards, Spider-Man 2 did not manage to win any of the prestigious trophies. A fact that has been both lambasted and poked fun of on the internet. But when you consider the sheer quantity, as well as the quality, of games that came out, the fact Spider-Man 2 was even nominated is proof of its greatness. Especially when it was going up against heavy-weights Baldur's Gate 3, Alan Wake 2, Final Fantasy XVI, Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom and Super Mario Bros: Wonder.

2023, it should be noted, was a game of big releases.

Following on from several strategy role-playing games I was stuck playing, it was only in the latter half of the year I was able to play catch-up on many of the triple-A titles. Even now, though, I have yet to tackle Final Fantasy XVI, Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom, Baldur's Gate 3 and Alan Wake 2.

To be fair, I've bought all the titles. They are, unfortunately, just sitting around waiting for me to devote the necessary time to make the adventure worthwhile.

Once I do, of course, be sure to see posts pop up throughout the year. Even as I try to balance work, my writing hobbies, the books I read, shows I watch (at time of writing, I've gotten into Blue Eye Samurai), and whatever travel I also have planned. In fact, I should hopefully be publishing the sequel to Wild Child soon. After pounding out the chapters during a period where everything has gone back to normal, taking the time out to write a full-length novel is very time-consuming. Not to mention the editing I'm doing (which would probably be better if I had an actual editor and at least one beta reader) to polish up a few things.

In any case, the story of my journey with Spider-Man 2 began not when I popped the disc into my PlayStation 5. Nay, the story begins with the day I purchased the game at a store in the heart of Sydney CBD. I was catching up with a high school friend and had just seen a Facebook post about an exhibit in Barangaroo. After dinner, off we trotted - after much convincing on my part that a walk down to Barangaroo would be for the best - to take in the flipped truck suspended by spider webs and New York policemen milling about telling everyone within earshot that, "There was nothing to see here." The trip, capped off with a photo of the truck, was made memorable when I muttered under my breath how the hired actors were pretending to be NPCs. Only, of course, to be remonstrated by my friend for saying such a thing.

And honestly, it it is true that I shouldn't be calling the people I see only in passing as NPCs. After all, in their own mind, they're the main character and I'm the NPC lurking in the background of their story. Which only serves to drive home the disconnection we have with the people around us or who might share the daily commute with us.

Still, what a thing to say to dismiss another person.

I'm reminded of a scene in the book Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin, which my workplace bookclub read, where Sam called his best friend, Max, an NPC right to his face. I know Max didn't take it to heart but what a cruel and heartless thing to say to someone who has supported you throughout your game developing journey and is then ruthlessly gunned down on the pretense he was you by angry gamers.

Anyways, back to Spider-Man 2. The game follows on from Spider-Man and Spider-Man: Miles Morales. Ten months on from the last game, we see Peter Parker and Miles Morales working together to keep New York safe. And though the Avengers seem to exist in the world - what with Avenger Tower jutting up above the New York skyline - we never see these other superheroes once during the struggles Peter and Miles face. Nor do we see cameos from the likes of Daredevil, Jessica Jones, Iron Fist or Luke Cage.

Which is such a shame.

But it also highlights the problem of having so many comic-book superheroes call New York home.

Spider-Man 2 starts with Peter taking on a job as a physics teacher at Brooklyn Visions, the school Miles attends. As he's teaching them about surface tension, Sandman attacks. Torn between his responsibilities as civilian Peter and that of Spider-Man, Peter joins up with Miles to take down Flint Marko in an epic showdown that saves the city. Unfortunately, due to dereliction of duty as a teacher, Peter is fired. A side-effect of being a superhero who keeps his identity hidden (although given how often his friends have since said his name during the game, I'm surprised it's still a secret).

From there, the game introduces us to Kraven, a man who seeks his death in glorious combat with a mighty opponent. As such, he captures Mister Negative and Scorpion while the two were being transported from the Raft. He even administers a high dose of Lizard serum into Dr Curt Connors to face up against a worthwhile opponent.

It is only when Peter acquires the symbiote that excitement enters Kraven's eyes. In the latter chapters, he fights against Peter and demands that our erstwhile hero stop holding back even showing off a battered Miles. Before Peter can kill him, Miles intervenes and Peter is then freed from the symbiote's control.

Of course, Spider-Man 2 is not content to have Kraven as the big bad for this game. Oh no.

As many know, once you've introduced the symbiote, you've also introduced Venom. But instead of Eddie Brock taking on the mantle of our favourite anti-hero, it is instead Harry Osborn.

Though Harry was only mentioned briefly in the first game, in Spider-Man 2, Harry returns from a long sabbatical in Europe and supposedly cured from his terminal illness. Harry is introduced early, hiring Peter to work at his environmental technology startup called the Emily-May foundation where the pair can pursue their childhood dream of "healing the world." Unfortunately, during the events of Spider-Man 2, with Peter taking on the symbiote, Harry's health - both physical and mental - deteriorates. Desperate to return to a semblance of normality, Harry reclaims the symbiote and is then transformed into the Venom we all know and love.

He is later stopped by the combined efforts of Miles, Peter and MJ. The final battle leaves Harry comatose and our heroes shattered once again by the sacrifices they had to make in order to save the city they call home.

What I liked most about Spider-Man 2, however, as a criminology major in university, was its focus on rehabilitation. Many of the supervillains that Spider-Man fans have come to know and love have been reformed in some way or another. Be that Tombstone to Mysterio. Many of these villains have chosen to turn over a new leaf and assimilate back into society. The most tragic and most human is the story of Sandman. Threatened by Kraven's hunters, fearing for his daughter and not being heard by those in power, he resorts to the only thing he knows in order to garner attention: attacking the city.

It is a tale as old as time.

And helps support the tenets of strain theory in crime sociology.

Of course, there are a myriad reasons why people turn to crime.

But these glimpses are so important to understand the complexities of why someone might resort to doing something illegal. And it's a far better exploration of redemption than what Spider-Man: No Way Home attempted. As I've stated before, change takes time. While No Way Home plucked our villains during their final showdown with the various Spider-Man across the multiverse, Spider-Man 2 shows the results of Mysterio and Sandman having served their time and seeking to mend their ways.

This all culminates in the interactions with Mister Negative and Miles Morales. And while Miles cannot bring himself to forgive what Mister Negative did, he is able to move past the anger.

The other message in Spider-Man 2, of course, is that some burdens cannot be taken on alone. The tagline for the game is: 'Be Greater. Together.' Something I wish more people would take to heart. When a community comes together, there is so much more that can be done. Unfortunately, the Western world prefers to champion individualistic effort over those of a collective.

Capitalism seems to forget that if you don't have your workers or people who can afford to purchase your goods, then what's the whole point? And if you're curious where this odd segue came from, I'm currently playing through Octopath Traveler 2 and Partitio's story is very much of a big-hearted merchant who looks out for his town. His dream, funnily enough, is to destroy the devil known as poverty. Something our modern world still has not been able to solve (but could. If there was any profit to it. But who are we kidding? There isn't.)

From a combat perspective, Spider-Man 2 changes things up a little by introducing a parry mechanism as well as a few other new abilities for the Spider-Men to enjoy. While this kept the game lively, it annoyed me that I needed a full Focus bar in order to heal. This was especially difficult in the latter boss battles against Scream and Venom. I'm not sure if the reason why I struggled through them was because I hadn't topped up my Focus bars prior to the mission or if it was simply me not gelling with Peter's abilities.

What I do know was that I hated how the attack you couldn't dodge, but had to parry, was highlighted in red and that the unblockable attack was blue. Especially when the game had trained you early on with managing a perfect dodge when the spider sense was red. It also didn't help that in the battles with Scream and Venom, these indicators didn't last for very long and I couldn't cancel an animation if I was already mid-dodge to parry an attack.

At least the checkpointing was generous!

As for other gameplay moments, I had to say the swinging was smooth as butter and the web wings added some great diversity to travel. Especially with the wind tunnels all around the city to help one get from Point A to Point B.

And because of these quality-of-life improvements, I didn't feel like the new map, which now included Queens and Brooklyn, was that much larger than the original Spider-Man game or as time-consuming to get through like a map in the open-world Assassin's Creed titles.

So, while Spider-Man 2 didn't win at The Game Awards, it certainly won my heart as the second last game I played in the year 2023. And I'm certainly excited to see what Insomniac cooks up next, despite the hack. The studio is great at nailing story, gameplay and world while serving up side-dishes of heart. Best of all, it didn't have me chasing after pigeons!

In a year teeming with big titles, Spider-Man 2 was everything I wanted in an open-world game without overstaying its welcome.

Thank you Insomniac and here's hoping Spider-Man 3 brings on the Green Goblin in all his glory! Oh, and Silk. I'm curious to how they'll insert that comic storyline into the game.

[malvenor]

13, 18, 37 for ask game

13 - What are you doing right now? - Stalling for time before cleaning up at my job, lmao. Time theft!!!!!!

18 - Do you believe in ghosts/aliens? - Yes and yes, but in really benign ways. While I've personally not had supernatural experiences, I know people like my mother who I believe when they say they have, and there's some level of spirituality in my life anyways. It would be dishonest to say I didn't believe in ghosts. As for aliens, I believe that the universe is simply far too large to NOT have alien life. The sticking point is that I don't believe we have ever had contact with alien life, nor do I truly believe we ever actually will, as sad as that may be. Unless we find ways to bend or bypass the laws of physics, at least.

37 - Share a secret - This is hard! I don't really keep many secrets, at least not my own secrets, as I live practically shame-free. I carry others, but those aren't mine to tell. I suppose... it could be considered a secret that I once had like six or seven milquetoast, vanilla porn videos downloaded onto my Playstation Vita? Never told anyone that before, I guess. Really have to stretch the definition of "secret," though!

[purplesurveys]

1879

1. Do you enjoy rhododendrons? Why did I think this was a shape? Anyway, I just looked this up and they're very pretty for sure! They *kind of* remind me of peonies, which are my favorite.

2. Have you ever met someone who supports Nazism? I haven't met anyone irl but I've come across brainrotted people on Facebook who've tried to pull off stupid Nazi shit. Filipinos are great at making stuff go viral though lmao so afaik those people have since been suspended.

3. If you’ve ever been to another country, what was the best thing you did there? The obvious answer is going to Thailand to see BTS' Suga in concert. Apart from that, the best thing I've ever done was have local sushi in Japan. I didn't even go to a fancy fine dining restaurant – it was this random diner-like spot we found at a nondescript block at 4 PM. And yet it was the best sushi platter I've ever had.

4. Which is your favorite print: Plaid, animal, stripes, spots, other? I like the look of stripes the most, but overall I'd still avoid print.

5. Have you ever owned a cell phone for over a year? If so, was it still working well? I've never owned a cellphone for less than a year...so, yes. Mine is still working well, but the battery is well under its capacity since I've always had a bad habit of letting it play videos all night long.

6. What’s the worst sickness you’ve ever had? Food poisoning has always been terrible to me. My stint with Covid was also pretty rough. Managed to avoid it for three years, then once it caught up to me it certainly did a great job transforming me into a corpse for a week.

7. What do you enjoy more: Fairs or circuses? Fairs.

8. Is your favorite animal something you can have as a pet? Dogs yes, elephants nope.

9. Are you good at gardening? No, never tried it.

10. What was the last classic novel you read? Did you enjoy it? I started Around the World in Eighty Days but never got around to finishing it. It was nice; I just never had the time to read the whole thing.

11. Do you think you would actually read any of the epic poems, such as Beowulf or The Iliad? We took up both of those – Beowulf for sure, Iliad I'm almost certain we did, if I'm remembering correctly. Learning them both was a fun experience but I wasn't passionate enough to put like 105% into analyzing them lol if that makes sense. I just wanted to do well enough to pass.

12. Are you the type of person who feels guilty after eating junk food? I don't feel guilty but I will feel gross because the oiliness kicks in so fast, lol.

13. Tell me about a time when you felt like you had no real friends: I was in 6th grade, everyone was obsessed with the latest trends and had a Blackberry and were hanging out at Eastwood on the weekend and had a solid set of friends. At that point Angela started finding new friends too and was adjusting so much better than I ever would have at the time; my two next closest friends migrated to Canada and New Zealand in rapid succession; and the only friend I had was super unstable and wasn't exactly the most well-behaved nor the teacher's favorite. I had a shit life at home and my mom was in her peak rage phase...idk. It was a year where I didn't talk very much.

14. Have you ever felt betrayed by someone? If so, what did they do to make you feel that way? Sure, it's happened. Just stuff I don't feel like getting into.

15. Which is better: Xbox 360 or PS3? Or are you someone who doesn’t care? I don't care and don't think of them in terms of which one is better - but in my family we've always had Playstations.

16. Have you gotten registered to vote yet? I registered when I wasn't even 18 yet, haha. I was very excited to be able to vote.

17. What do you like best about your favorite actor? How about favorite actress? I don't have a favorite actor. As for Kate Winslet, girl just knocks it out of the park in everything she's ever acted in. She's just so good at playing roles of unconventional, deeply troubled characters, digging into that character's psyche and creating a personality for it that will be memorably Hers. I'll allllways always always love her.

18. Tell me how you’re feeling in another language: Pagod.

19. Would you rather drink water all day or Coca Cola all day? Water.

20. Name three movies which have a soundtrack you really love: I don't really pay attention to movie OSTs tbh.

21. Do you think Gatorade tastes refreshing or just gross? Haven't had Gatorade in yearsssssssss.

22. What’s the scariest video game you’ve ever played? Not sure. I don't get spooked much by video games.

23. Do either of your parents get angry over small things? My mom does, 100%.

24. What is the most dramatic TV show that you watch? Grey's Anatomy has to be up there, lmao. Queen of Tears was also such a rollercoaster of a watch.

25. Do you still watch VHS tapes? Nope.

26. Have you ever visited one of the states that doesn’t have sales tax? Was it a nice change? I've never been to the States.

27. Have you ever had Dutch Brothers’ coffee? Nope.

28. What are your grandparents like? Are they nice or mean? They are very kind, very loving people – my grandparents on my dad's side are not very verbally expressive when it comes to love, but they definitely show it and they are very sweet in doing so; like my grandma offering to massage my shoulders and braid my hair, and my grandpa making me his signature snacks and meals.

My grandma on my mom's side is far more expressive; she'll call everyday to check on us, say I love you, hug us...but then again we grew up with her so that's probably why it's easier for her to do these things with us. Both are, understandably given their generation, very traditional and having them consider more modern ways of thinking is Actually impossible. LGBT+ anything is always gonna be wrong, divorce is wrong, abortion is wrong, I can't go out wearing shorts, I should find a man who will treat me well, Jesus is the way the truth the life blahblahblahblah...

29. Do you own any pet fish? What kind of fish are they? Nope.

30. Do you have a turntable and vinyls that you regularly play? I do not. I've always wanted one, but I don't think I'd be able to sustain it as a hobby.

31. What is the most irritating thing that a boyfriend or girlfriend has ever done to you? Gaslighting. :)

32. Have you ever thrown up from being so nervous? What was happening that made you so nervous? Nah, but I've cried from nerves. We were having org elections and I was up for a vice-presidential position and it was going to be my first miting de avance...so I ended up having a quick lil breakdown of sorts.

33. Would you rather be uncomfortable but fashionable or comfortable but unfashionable? Uncomfortable but fashionable. It's nice to look cute, at least for me lol. As much as possible I try to balance both, but yeah.

34. When was the last time you took your pet to the vet? What was wrong with it? There was nothing wrong with them; I just needed to get them anti-tick meds because it's required at the dog hotel we were having them board in last week.

35. Have you ever known someone who was in an abusive relationship? Yuh.

36. If you smoke/drink/do drugs, do you feel insulted when someone tells you that it’s bad for you? Well, no, because it's true.

37. Do you like skiing or snowboarding? Have never done either.

38. Do you find government buildings dreary and uncomfortable? Some of them are, but the others are beautifully-made – like our post office and our national museums :)

39. Name the last horror story you read. If you can’t remember any, name the last horror movie you saw. Feng Shui. Hahahaha

40. What happened the last time you were embarrassed? Drew was telling me frankly to get new glasses because he saw mine had a crack.

[a-real-zero]

My name is Billy Zero aka A REAL ZERO

I'm a near-fourty year old, single male metalhead from Southern New Hampshire. Heavy Music is my life! I'd say I'm a bit of an enthusiast to say the least. I eat, sleep, shit and breathe the many different bands and genres that make up the heavy music scene. However, I do have a solid variety of interests, otherwise.

I thoroughly enjoy sports. I'm not the most athletic person alive, but I LOVE my Boston teams, and I'm DIEHARD for them all. We truly are the #cityofchampions, and I support all my hometown teams enthusiastically!

I enjoy video games, even at my borderline mid-life age. Specifically PlayStation, because that's just the console I have been partial to my whole life thus far. It's just so much better than Xbox, and even though PC trumps all, especially graphic-wise, I'll never turn my back on the PlayStation console .

I have recently gotten back into wrestling [WWE], as well. I grew up loving it, but it really started to go downhill for quite some time, and so subsequently, my interest faded. However, now with Vince stepping down and selling the multi-billion dollar company, and them keeping Triple H [Paul L.] as the main man in charge, it is incredible how much things have turned around. It's become an enjoyable product once again, and very much so worth reinvesting my time into. And so I will...

I'm sure everyone will agree with my interest in entertainment, and by that, I mean primarily movies and TV series. I'm a bit of a movie buff these days, and I love throwing on one of the fifteen million streaming apps and binge-watching an entire series or season of a series. I mean these days, who doesn't?

For some reason, I really admire architecture. More specifically, city skylines and unique, diverse looking stadiums and arenas that are the homes to specific sports teams and franchises. I can't, for the life me, figure out why nor remember when this obsession and admiration first came to fruition, but it's been quite some time now and it doesn't seem to be going anywhere, either. Lol.

In a nutshell, that is what I, A REAL ZERO, am all about interests-wise. Heavy Music is my main thing. I call myself a heavy music enthusiast because of how frequently I listen to or talk about it. It's my life! It's also the MAIN point of this blog, so expect to see more of that than anything else. I enjoy writing and blogging my perspective takes, opinions, and reviews on heavy music, not to mention just about anything I find interesting enough to write about. So I decided I wanted to create my own little slice of the www [pie], and have somewhere where I can comfortably share my love for heavy music and all my common interests, or hate, depending the specifics of what I'm writing about at the time.

Expect to read many heavy music album reviews, featured band showcases with ratings, heavy music news, my most anticipated upcoming drops, my top bands of any given moment, and so much more pertaining to music, aswell as just about anything pertaining to my other topics of interest.

Please remember that any and every thing you read here is all just my perspective and opinion. If we share interests, and opinions of said interests, then that's just fucking dandy, but PLEASE do NOT take offense to anything you read and don't agree with. Like I said, it's merely just my OPINION! And this is my blog so...

Thank you, and I hope you find whatever you read here useful and/or entertaining and worth your time. If not, it's too bad because, like I said, this is MY slice of pie, not yours! 😉

**My Tumblr blog is just a temporary home to hold me over while I'm currently designing my actual website. I figured why wait on the blogging, because I want to write about things sometimes and couldn't without a website being complete. So that's a work in progress...but it is coming!

[thechangeling]

Say my name or I won't survive

This is an extension of my headcannon for non binary Kit. He uses he/they pronouns. Kit comes out to Jessa as nonbinary.

Tw: mentions of transphobia/enbyphobia

A lot had happened since that conversation with Magnus. Kit usually didn't like to make a habit out of breaking down in people's arms. But it had become clear in that moment that they needed to talk to someone. That they needed to face the things they had been pushing down, trying to avoid.

Kit was currently standing in front of the mirror in his bedroom. Magnus had let them take some clothes that had been magically altered to fit Kit. Just so he could experiment with wearing them.

So far he hadn't made it out of his room wearing a dress or a skirt, but Kit was trying to take baby steps. Well mostly they were just scared. Scared of what Jem and Tessa would say.

Scared of what everyone would say. Like what if he was just making everything up? Or maybe he was just confused? Shadowhunters were big on tradition. Asking people to use different pronouns for Kit and stop using his full name might be a challenge for some people.

Like Jace, their brain supplied.

Kit stared at their reflection on the mirror. Magnus had started teaching them how to apply makeup and experiment with it. Kit confessed that when they were younger they used to steal eyeliner and lipstick from drug stores and put it on when Johnny was otherwise occupied. Kit was still no where near Magnus's level of talent but they were pretty good.

Kit had done simple makeup today, not looking for anything too crazy, just a little mascara to make his eyes pop and concealer to cover his light bruising from training. He hadn't wanted to look too girly during this conversation, he figured it was better to ease Tessa and Jem into this whole thing.

Also Kit didn't always feel like looking too girly, even though as Magnus constantly reminded them, clothes and makeup didnt have a gender. They liked playing around with different concepts, different styles. The societal ideas of femininity and masculinity were just that, ideas. There were no real rules, not when Kit stopped playing the game.

They stared at themself in the vanity mirror, trying to think of exactly what Kit was going to say to Jem and Tessa. Just saying the words, "I'm nonbinary" didn't seem good enough. They felt like they needed to give a proper explanation of their feelings and experiences or else they would be accused of faking it.

The urge to prove ones validly, the need to make sure people knew he was real and he wasnt crazy, it was more importent then anything. It was infuriating. Knowing that his experiences could be so easily dismissed as delusional feelings.

Not trans enough. Not cis enough. Not gay enough. Not straight enough. Kit's mere existence was a controversy on it's own. It was exhausting enough to make Kit want to abandon the whole idea of coming out again all together. Maybe it was easier just to smile and nod everytime someone misgendered them. Ignore the clenching of their stomach and the punch to the chest that came with it.

Smile and nod and be the man he was meant to be. But he had been doing that for 18 years and he couldn't survive it much longer. Kit needed to come out. People needed to acknowledge his reality and use the proper pronouns for him.

Or else Kit was going to wither away, shrivel up into something unrecognizable. A shell of their former self. They were going to die if they had to hear "Christopher" one more time.

The only time it was tolerable was when Ty said it. Kit could almost pretend that he could be the person Ty thought he was, if it would make Ty happy. He used to think that he could let himself wither away and die as long as Ty was ok. As long as Ty was safe and happy.

But that wasnt ok. That wasnt fair. Kit deserved to be safe and happy as well. One of the things they had learned with Jem and Tessa was that Kit deserved to put themself first sometimes. Kit deserved good things despite what Johnny Rook had made them believe. Kit wanted Ty to be ok. They wanted Ty in general.

But Kit needed this.

He took a deep breath and exited his room, heading downstairs to the kitchen where Jem was cooking breakfast and Tessa was trying to get Mina to settle down. Everyone looked up as soon as Kit entered the room.

"Kitty!!!" Mina screamed excitedly, waving her arms around. Tessa shushed her fondly, scolding her for yelling.

"Good morning Christopher," Jem said with kind a smile. "How did you sleep?"

Kit tried to ignore the way their stomach clenched at the sound of their birth name. Dead name, their brain supplied. They needed to tell Tessa and Jem. Kit slid into a nearby chair with a heavy sigh.

"I need to talk to you guys about something," he muttered, trying not to sound too nervous or dejected. Tessa and Jem shared a worried glance.

"Is everything alright Kit?" Tessa asked sparing Mina a glance, probably wondering if she should be removing her from this conversation. Kit shut his eyes briefly and took a breath.

"Yeah I hope so. I just need to tell you something," Kit ran their fingers through their curls. Jem and Tessa watched them, waiting patiently. Kit tried to ignore the shakiness of their breath and the way their palms.

"Here's the thing," Kit began. "You might not get it but I need to ask you to respect it ok?

He didn't wait for their responses. "I'm nonbinary. Which basically means that I'm neither male nor female. I'm something else, something seperate. I don't know I guess I just think of myself as a person who doesn't really have much of a gender," he was staring at the tabletop refusing to make eye contact. "It's just sort of like, if you think of the colour spectrum as gender, I would be a blurry watercolour. A mixture if all kinds of different things and sometimes some colours are more vibrant then others. And then sometimes it's just gray."

Kit wasnt sure if any of this was really making any sense but they knew they had to try. Jem and Tessa were both still silent. Mina was happily chomping down on her breakfast and ignoring all of them. Kit took this as a sign to continue.

"I don't exactly know why I'm like this or how I know. But maybe there are some things that you just can't explain. You just know. Like I know that the sun will set and then rise again tommorow and I know that I love you guys," Kit voice faltered at the last part. He looked up at Tessa and Jem, panicked over seeing their reactions.

But they were both just staring at Kit with huge, loving smiles on their faces. Kit's breathing slowly began to return to normal but their hands were still shaking. Tessa csne towards them slowly, grasping Kit's hand in hers.

"Baby it's ok," she cooed. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. It's just like we told you when you first came out as bisexual, we will always love you no matter what." Jem nodded.

"I have admit this whole thing is rather fascinating," Jem chimed in with a smile. "I've never heard the term before." Kit fought the urge to remind him that two weeks ago he had never heard of playstation, but decided against it.

Mina was paying attention to them now and she was smiling at Kit. "No bany!" She cried excitedly. Kit couldn't help it, he through his head back and laughed. Mina scowled at him slightly. "Not quite Min-Min," Kit told her playfully.

"Do you have different pronouns that you would like us to use?" Tessa asked. Kit's heart fluttered at the question. They didn't actually think either Tessa or Jem would think to ask.

Kit cleared their throat. "Yeah do you think you guys could use alternating he/they pronouns for me? Like use he in one sentence and then use they?" Kit instantly felt kind of guilty for complicating things further. "I'm sorry I know that's kind of confusing."

Jem shook his head, "no it's fine! We just want you to feel comfortable." Tessa nodded in agreement. "Is there anything else?" Kit pulled Mina's hands off of their shirt. She had begun to tug and pull out of boredom.

Kit nodded. "Yeah do you think you could stop calling me Christopher please?" He hoped he didn't sound to harsh. There was something so guilt inducing about having to ask for these things. It felt like Kit was making unneccessary demands. But he wasn't. He had every right to.

Jem instantly looked sheepish. "I'm so sorry Kit," he said softly. Tessa looked guilty too. Kit shook their head.

"Its ok. You didn't know. Just don't do it anymore ok?" Kit felt significantly lighter, like a giant weight had been lifted off of their shoulders. They slid out of their stool to walk around to the other side of the kitchen island and hug both Jem and Tessa.

Kit knew it wouldn't always be this easy. He knew that this life would be complicated and difficult, but it would also be full of exploration and freedom.

Kit would always have a place he belonged.

"I am also a we."

- Sense 8

Tag list you know the drill, let me know if you want on or off: @scrat-is-god @playwithravenclaw @lavender-scented-rat @knifescythe @ti-bae-rius @dianasarrow @doitforthecarstairs @jazzkaurtheglorious @waterlillies @zfoxdraws @julieandthefandoms @older-brother-kit @ilikebooks8 @nott-the-best @stxr-thxif @magnus-the-fabulous-entp-bane @autumnangel20 @hufflepuffyskam

[artificialqueens]

Don't Just Stand There Staring Honey (Try to Move Your Feet) (Taywhora) - Pinkgrapefruit

Georgie lets out one long sigh and lets her head fall back, dirty blonde hair falling onto the couch. “I. Need. A. Date.” She repeats, exasperated. “My friend is getting married in a few months and I need a date for the wedding.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow, repositioning herself on the couch so she can actually look at Georgie. “Georgina Aurora, I’m sure you can find yourself a date,” she smirks, “A’whora.”

A/N -

for my love ortega.

may our clowning be long and prosperous.

*

It’s times like this when the flat feels too small. Tayce has just gotten out of the shower, water rolling down her calves as she pads down the hall to her room and she can see Georgie doing her Chloe Ting workout - laptop being played through the TV. She’s wearing these tiny little shorts that leave her surprisingly tan legs on full display and her sports bra can barely be considered a sports bra - it’s a wonder the people in the flat across the street haven’t said something.

They’d snatched this place up the second it came on the market - the wall of glass windows in the living room making the two-bed London flat feel bigger than it was (at the time at least). It had been the natural progression from their tiny box flat they’d shared for the last three years of uni.

After living on top of each other for three years, they’d felt like queens in their new place, neither of them sleeping on a pullout sofa bed.

They’d alternated (of course) though Georgie tended to whine if she wasn’t feeling the sofa bed so on occasion they’d both end up in the double bed. By the end, on occasion turned into whenever she was drunk, sad, lonely, uncomfortable, on her period or bored. For all her jokes, Tayce wasn’t really complaining.

She tears her eyes away from Georgie’s ass and hurries into her room before she soaks the hallway rug, too scared of the blonde’s temper to risk ruining another of her interior design choices.

She presses play on Spotify and lays the towel on her unmade bed, perching carefully on the edge before beginning to moisturise her clean-shaven legs.

*

“I need a date.”

“What?” Tayce yells, eyes fixed on Mortal Kombat but brain anywhere else.

“I need a date,” Georgie replies, perching on the arm of the sofa and positioning her tennis skirt in a way so as not to show her knickers - she never knows when Tayce’s videogame friends might be able to see her (she once flashed one of them and it’s not something she wants to repeat).

There’s a huff of breath from Tayce before she gives up and stops moving, allowing her opponent to kill her. She sets the PlayStation controller down and faces the blonde, confusion clear on her face.

“I repeat, what?” The softness of her welsh accent slips in at times like this - something that six years of living in London hasn’t quite been able to take away.

Georgie lets out one long sigh and lets her head fall back, dirty blonde hair falling onto the couch. “I. Need. A. Date.” She repeats, exasperated. “My friend is getting married in a few months and I need a date for the wedding.”

Tayce raises an eyebrow, repositioning herself on the couch so she can actually look at Georgie. “Georgina Aurora, I’m sure you can find yourself a date,” she smirks, “A’whora.”

It’s a joke from uni about Georgie’s innate ability to find the one person in the club who’s only there for a shag (and then go home with them).

Georgie pouts. She bats her lash extensions and runs a hand through her hair, the other running down her thigh. She knows what she’s doing is flustering Tayce (that’s why she’s doing it) and really tries to play it up.

“They’ll just want me for sex though,” she whines, “They won’t get me like you.” She bats her lashes one more time and sees the exact moment Tayce melts, a pretty blush finally becoming visible.

“Just for you.”

Georgie cups a hand behind her ear, wincing as if she’s having trouble. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” she jokes and it makes Tayce bat an arm at her.

“I’ll do it for you Brat.”

The blonde bounces up, her tennis skirt flying up to show her lace knickers. “You’re the best!” She squeals before pressing a kiss to Tayce’s cheek, “Veronica will be so happy!”

*

“Have you finished in the shower?” Georgie calls from the hallway, snapping Tayce back into the moment.

“Is the shower still going?” Tayce shouts back sardonically and she hears Georgie hit her door on the way past. “Bitch.” She calls out before falling backwards onto her bed. She can see her outfit out of the corner of her eye and it twists her stomach in knots just looking at it.

It’s pretty simple, grey plaid cigarette trousers - a white shirt with red stitching and a matching suit jacket, but somehow it feels like Chinese handcuffs.

The telltale clunk of the waterpipes tells her that Georgie’s started her shower and she sits up again, feeling around on her bedside table for her hairbrush.

She goes through the motions of getting ready until Georgie is banging on her door again. She yanks it open, intending to say something cutting or at least sarcastic but she finds that it’s quite difficult to speak when your jaw is on the floor. Her’s certainly is.

Georgie’s dress is red satin with a sinfully high slit and her lipstick might just be the same shade of crimson currently on Tayce’s own lips. That might just be wishful thinking.

“Wow’” she stutters out, eyes trailing up and down. She gets caught on the wispy hairs that have come undone from Georgia’s chignon and has to catch herself because she wants to wrap it around her tongue and there isn’t enough time to unpack that.

“Wow, yourself,” Georgie says with a smirk, her tongue darting out between perfectly painted lips. She holds a hand out and Tayce gives her her forearm so she can walk the blonde out of the flat.

*

They blast Taylor Swift in the car, screaming the lyrics to Out of the Woods while on the A23. Tayce pulls them into the churchyard in Brighton and they both look at the amassing crowd with sighs.

“Damn baby, it’s like half your high school is here,” jokes Tayce as she touches up her powder in the fold-down mirror of the rental car.

Georgie smiles softly, “you don’t wanna meet half my high school,” she replies, remembering how she felt in the Nottingham public school system. She’s grateful, in a way, that Veronica’s new man is from Brighton so they don’t have to return to her hometown.

Tayce insists on coming round to open her car door and they stand arm in arm in front of the church for a moment before they go in. It’s closer to a cathedral than a church but from what Tayce knows, Veronica’s family could afford that. There’s a welcome sign out the front and it makes them both smile.

“Green and Blacks,” Tayce chuckles, “clever.”

Georgie looks at her and smiles, “Joe owns a coffee bar in Brighton and he hired her to sing one day,” she explains, finding the story sweet despite herself. Tayce gently sets her head on top of Georgie’s.

“Bless ‘em,” she hears Tayce murmur. She coughs quickly and they both straighten up. Just as she goes to fiddle with Tayce’s collar she smirks.

“Everyone thinks we’ve been dating for six months,” she whispers, rising up on her toes so her breath brushes Tayce’s ear.

If Tayce curses, Georgie doesn’t hear it. She’s too busy swinging her hips as she walks away.

*

“Tayceeeee,” comes a whine from the bathroom. None of the letters sound quite right but the meaning is there so Tayce puts down her coffee and slides a well-worn bookmark into an equally well-worn copy of pride and prejudice that she pretends she doesn’t read before hauling herself off the sofa in the direction of the bathroom.

“Georginaaaa,” she mocks back once it’s clear that nothing serious is going on.

Georgie has almost a full face of makeup on, sans lips and eyelashes but she’s still trying her very best to bat what she has. She’s sat on the counter, feet in the sink and toe separators on her feet as she finishes the final coat on her dusty pink toenails.

“Going out?” Tayce asks, a casual eyebrow raised and a soft smirk playing on her lips.

Georgie brightens up, “Astina and Bimini invited me out clubbing,” she explains animatedly. “I get to wear that dress I’ve been showing you but I want the rest to be perfect.

‘That dress’ in question is a slinky little number that’s been on the dress-form in Georgie’s bedroom/office/sewing room/dungeon for months. It’s baby pink and ruched and while Tayce doesn’t know any of the technical terms (she was not in the fashion school, nor does she claim she was) she knows it’s going to look gorgeous.

“Sounds fun,” she replies, though her tone is questioning and Georgie must pick up on that because she holds out a pair of flash eyelashes and an applicator with a smile.

“Can you put them on for me?”

They both know very well that Georgie can put on her own lashes - in the depths of the A’whora days, she wore them nearly every day and used to leave the house before Tayce had drunk enough coffee to feel alive. Nevertheless, Tayce leans forward, one hand holding Georgie’s cheek gently so she won’t move her head and the other hovering a lash over her eye. Her thumb strokes the prominent cheekbone under the soft skin and powder and Georgie’s breath flutters over Tayce’s pulse point.

The moment lasts forever but not quite long enough and Tayce leaves in a hurry, going back to Jane Austen and strong espresso.

She catches Georgie before she leaves, eyes trailing up and down her body appreciatively, though knowing Georgie likes her bike shorts just as much.

“For the love of god George please don’t fight anyone in the kebab shop - we’re running out of places,” she scolds, “And don’t get grumpy when you’re tired, save that for me - the girls won’t know how to handle you.” She feels like she’s wrapping a child up to send them to school but she just unlocks the door for Georgie and tells her that she’ll wait up.

Georgie pecks her on the cheek and leaves. Tayce turns the PlayStation on and tries to forget about the blonde in the pink dress grinding against half of London.

*

Tayce skitters across the gravel until she reaches Georgie, a hand wrapping around the satin covered waist as they queue to enter the church. She takes a deep breath and lets it out through her nose. She’s never been good with surprises.

Georgie notices (she always does), feels Tayce’s fingertips pressing into her ribs and gently removes the arm, intertwining their fingers instead so she can softly brush her thumb up and down Tayce’s hand.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers, head falling against Tayce’s chest briefly. Tayce feels her heart rate slow from the contact and sighs, inhaling the scent of Georgie’s conditioner.

“It’s okay,” She uses her free arm to pat Georgie’s bum, trying to move the blonde along as they near the front of the line into the church.

At the very front of the line, just inside the ornate doors, is an older looking woman with chestnut coloured hair and a lavender chiffon dress. Georgie’s face lights up when she spots her and the woman gives her a motherly smile before embracing the blonde.

“Georgina,” she gushes, “it’s been so long.”

Georgie at least has the propriety to blush and she ducks her head abashedly. “Mrs Green- Margret,” she responds, “I’ve missed you.”

Mrs Green looks up, spotting Tayce hovering by the door and smiles lovingly, beckoning her over. “And who’s this lovely lady,” she asks Georgie with a bemused chuckle, watching as the girl blushes an even deeper red.

Tayce sees this as her moment and slides up next to her, hand wrapping around her waist, cheek resting on the top of her head. “I’m Tayce, Georgie’s girlfriend. It’s lovely to meet you Mrs Green and we’re so happy to be here.”

It slips out all too easy and even if she wasn’t prepared for this situation, somehow she is.

Mrs Green smiles. “Please, call me Margret,” she tells them graciously. “We’ll catch up later Georgina,” she informs them and then points them through another set of double doors.

They seat themselves towards the back of the pews, not wanting to encroach on family seating and Georgie twists her hands together until Tayce takes one of them in her own.

“Margret was like a mother figure to me,” she explains quietly, thoughtfully, “I feel bad for how out of touch I’ve become.”

Tayce just rubs her back, unsure of what to say.  

*

She grew up popular. Her blonde hair was always pin-straight and her eyebrows spent half of high school looking like someone had drawn them on with melted chocolate but that was in vogue.

People loved her and feared her in half measure and she used it to her advantage, getting what she wanted and feeling like she was part of an American high school movie while she did it. That was until she got too high on her own bullshit.

She forgot she was from Worksop, she forgot she has friends from popularity instead of just her personality and she forgot that not everything always went well for the mean girls in the movies.

She came out. She’d known she was gay since she was in primary school when she used to want to play mummies and daddies and always asked to be the daddy. (Until her best friend Jade told her that girls couldn’t be daddies, because daddies couldn’t marry other daddies and girls have to marry daddies).

She came out and suddenly her mean girl personality was abrasive and arrogant, and she had to come to terms with who she was all over again.

Then she met Veronica.

Veronica was lovely and sweet and the captain of the theatre club - who wanted Aurora to help with sewing costumes.

“Call me Georgie,” the blonde has said. She’d wanted people to call her Aurora because she wanted to be special and Georgina was too plain. Apparently 'special’ meant being called a dyke and losing all your friends though, or so she figured.

Veronica did make her feel special.

She’d invite her round for tea - to her house on the nicer side of town - where they’d eat freezer waffles and pizza that tasted a little bit like cardboard but also like home. Margret Green would teach her to crochet and help with designs. And slowly, Worksop felt like home again.

And then she met Tayce - and learnt what it truly meant to feel special.

*

The ceremony passes quick enough, Tayce’s hand in Georgie’s. They only time they let go is when Georgie has to dig around in her purse for a tissue - the wedding not getting to her, but Tayce.

It’s a short drive to the gazebo for dinner but they still don’t let go of each other’s hands, Georgie’s wrapped over Tayce’s on the gearstick.

They finally let go when they enter the venue for the reception. The ceiling is lit with fairy lights that cast an ethereal glow and there’s ivy in the exposed fittings. There are four long tables set up and the seating chart is hell to find but they eventually spot 'Georgie and Tayce’ opposite Mrs Green making Georgie blush that they’re on the same table as the Bride and Groom.

“I mean I’m honoured,” She mutters to Tayce under her breath as they navigate the chairs, “I just didn’t realise I meant this much to her and honestly I would have worn a nicer dress.”

“Shush you,” Tayce replies, pulling a rustic looking chair out for her. She gently pushes it back in, taking her own seat and patting Georgie’s thigh comfortingly. “You look hot as shit.”

Georgie blushes but suddenly Margret Green sits down and she feels sixteen again. She ducks her head almost shyly and Margret chuckles.

“I’m not going to tell you and your girlfriend off Georgina,” she tells them both, nodding to Tayce who wonders if she might be sweating under the weight of Mrs Green’s gaze. Margret never quite stopped calling her her full name - it took long enough to break the habit of calling her Georgina Aurora. Sometimes you have to pick your battles.

“I know Mam,” Georgie replies, straightening back up with a smile.

“That’s better dear.”

*

They’ve taken a break from socialisation and are leaning against the bar - the party in full swing behind them. Georgie swirls the stick in her Vodka Cranberry while Tayce leisurely sips on her Mojito. The faintly golden light of the gazebo casts shadows on her face that make her look almost ethereal and Georgie just can’t stop looking.

“You enjoying yourself?” Tayce asks softly, and Georgie blushes under her gaze, nervous she’s been caught staring. She taps the stick against the side of her near-empty glass a few times and sighs.

“It’s nice,” she muses, looking over her shoulder at the rabble. “Weird, but nice.” There’s an odd tone to her voice and Tayce nods for her to continue, quietly sipping her drink.

“I guess I’m a little angry,” Georgie admits after a short pause. “About why they can all accept you with me now - but they couldn’t when I really needed them to."

Tayce reaches across the gap between the chairs, frowning slightly as she brushes a thumb under Georgie’s eye. The pad of it slides along her jaw again before Tayce brings her hand back to her lap and Georgie has to hold back a sigh at the loss.

"I’m sorry baby,” she replies, “I know that doesn’t help fifteen-year-old Georgie but I really am.” Her hand moves back up to cup the blondes Cheek and Georgie brings her own hand up to hold it there. She leans into it, revelling in the warmth.

“It’s okay. Really, it is. I have you now."

The pad of Tayce’s thumb brushes Georgie’s painted bottom lip and she may have been leaning in but Georgie suddenly sits bolt upright. Her eyes are wide and Tayce drops her hand reflexively before grabbing the hand in Georgie’s lap.

"Shit,” Georgie mumbles, eyes still staring at a figure in a suit a few feet away. She tugs on the hand Tayce is holding and drags her over to the dancefloor.

“That’s my ex.” She tells Tayce who’s just looking at her oddly. “He’ll try and hit on me so you,” she pats Tayce’s chest with a wink,“ are going to dance with me.”

Tayce sighs before smiling at the proposition. “Well it’s not exactly Salsa music but I’ll give it a go honey.”

*

They’re pressed together, chest to chest in the kitchen. As Tayce inhales, chest heaving, it sends vibrations through Georgie’s body.

Tayce has switched the speaker on out of boredom, dancing around where they used to have a dining table and showing off all her moves. She had gotten bored back in uni and used to frequent the salsa society on her free evenings. They’d all made jokes about it but it’s quite clear that none of her friends had taken it seriously when she sees the awe painted on Georgie’s features. She’d offered a hand and the blonde had taken it, allowing herself to be pulled close as they worked through the basics, rocking back and forth.

She spins Georgie but makes sure to pull her close again as the traditional salsa music finishes and a new song comes on.

“Don’t just stand there staring, honey. Try to move your feet,” Tayce sings along, her voice breathy but it doesn’t have to be stronger when her lips are brushing Georgie’s ear. She lets her free hand trace patterns into the parts of the blonde’s back not covered by her flimsy crop top.

“I can make it nice and easy,” she hums, looking down to see Georgie’s eyes are half-lidded, a coy smile playing on her lips. “I'ma take the lead. They ain’t even looking at you, baby."

She drops Georgie but catches her almost immediately - a move that makes the blonde intuitively grip her tighter.

"They’re looking at me."

Georgie locks her eyes on Tayce, not noticing if they drop a bit towards her lips. "Fuck.”

*

It may not be a salsa but it turns out that Tayce’s dancing skills don’t just lie in the world of Latin.

She pulls Georgie close to her - as she does whenever she has an excuse - and they sway to the music together. It’s reminiscent of the forties - a song for soldiers to dance to with their wives and all the couples are on the floor slow-dancing together.

“Impeccable timing,” Tayce whispers in Georgie’s ear, enjoying the way she shivers and yet moves even closer into Tayce.  She always seems to have her bold moments and then goes back to letting Tayce be the big, strong night in shining armour.

Not that she minds.

As Georgie is a few inches shorter, she can tuck her head nicely under Tayce’s chin and it gives her the perfect vantage point to hear the way Tayce’s heartrate seems to be skipping beats.

She lifts her chin, looking up into Tayce’s green eyes and seeing them staring straight at her, a soft smile playing on the taller girls lips.

Tayce gets a funny feeling in her stomach, like she’s ingested butterflies and they’re trying to get out. Suddenly it all makes sense.

She places a hand under Georgie’s chin to hold her gaze and just smiles.

“I love you, you know,” she whispers, feeling like the music is all but silent.

*

They were drunk, hands travelling to places they wouldn’t normally dare - Tayce’s fingers trailing the lines of Georgie’s underwear through her dress.

The blonde giggles, hiccuping before hoisting herself up on the kitchen counter and pulling her shoes off. They land somewhere that will undoubtedly be a nuisance later but she’s too gone to care.

Tayce stands in between her legs, each hand resting on a smooth ivory thigh. “I can’t believe you shouted at that girl,” she says, lips pressing together as if she’s trying to look disapproving.

Georgie smirks, running a playful finger across the cut of Tayce’s jaw.

“She was looking at you,” she explains as if that’s a perfectly reasonable excuse and it almost makes Tayce chuckle. Instead, the welsh girl mimes biting Georgie’s finger, getting the blonde to laugh.

“She was the kebab girl… The cashier!” She pumps a fist triumphantly at remembering the right word. “She was the cashier. She was meant to look at us.”

“Noooo,” Georgie whines. “You’re not getting it, she was looking at you. Just you.” Tayce quirks her eyebrows, clearly still not getting it and her obliviousness makes Georgie lean forward to rest her forehead on Tayce’s shoulder. A sigh escapes her lips as she wonders if this is how Tayce feels putting up with her.

“She wanted you.” She states as plainly as she can. Her voice drops to just above a whisper, “she wanted you.”

It’s only then that she realises just how close they are - how she can feel Tayce’s hands on her thighs and the smell of daiquiris on her breath.

Their noses meet before their lips do until Tayce tilts her head just a little bit more and then it feels like something inside Georgie has snapped.

She pulls away, the back of her head bumping against the kitchen cabinet as she tries to reconcile what she just did with her own feelings.

It was good, too good, and it scared the living daylights out of her.

She slides sideways off the counter, leaving Tayce standing there - her dumb drunk face frozen in confusion.

*

Georgie’s eyes widen and then she shuts them, taking a deep breath. When they open again, tayce is still looking at her - though some of the sparkle in her eyes has dimmed and she suddenly feels the need to put all of it back.

She leans up, lets their lips brush against each other in a chaste kiss to test the waters but before she can pull away, Tayce has her bottom lip between her own.

She’s sure they’re being stared at but she can’t bring herself to care because she’s at a wedding and somehow she’s kissing the prettiest woman in the room.

Georgie finally pulls away, lips slightly swollen and lipstick smudging at the edges. her eyes are wet but they’re so bright.

“I love you too,” she murmurs, “ you fucking twat.”

[jinkicake]

Fatherhood!

Akaashi, Iwaizumi, Daichi as Dads! With a sprinkle of Hinata and Lev!

Just a pinch of ‘x reader’ so I’m not really going to label it that~~

I was inspired to write headcannons from @lovellucy ‘s ask !! Literally my fingers almost fell off as I was typing this because I couldn’t keep up with all the thoughts in my head. Kinda went off because,,, I love to write about fatherly relationship since my own is very-damaged beyond repair. ＾ω＾ 

WC- 757

~~~

Akaashi Keiji

Akaashi would be such a chill parent since he always has a level head

He has the best patience and would probably never raise his voice

His dumb little toddler is having a meltdown? Akaashi would try to talk the baby through it, trying to calm them down and find out what’s wrong

I feel like he would want his kids to express their emotions and not be punished for it

HOWEVER, if Akaashi needs to kick ass then he most certainly will

He is not raising little shits, okay?

Akaashi just seems like such an understanding person and would have a really good relationship with his kids because he communicates so well with them like he is not afraid to talk out any issues

Though I think his kids would be reserved just like their dad

Akaashi is just so utterly soft, I can’t stop thinking about him with a toddler that is dressed in a fuzzy little outfit, it makes my heart race

The King of Communication is here.

Iwaizumi Hajime

PLEASE, IWAIZUMI BEST DAD

He would be soooo involved with his kids, he loves playing with them and showering them in attention

Like if his kids want to go to the river or play outside, they better make sure to invite him too!

Yes, Iwaizumi at his grown age will still look for little tadpoles and crickets with his kids and help capture them in the tiny plastic containers

He’d purposely bring them home to scare the shit out of you, just to get a good laugh as you scream your head off

“Babe, it’s literally in a container” “HAJIME GET IT OUT OF HERE NOW”

He’d be so emotional with his kids, maybe not externally but if one of his kids is upset then he would be visibly upset too

I feel like he would be really good with toddlers and young kids, but once they start growing up he will find it harder to communicate with them

Though, he would still try his best to talk with them and check on them as often as he can

He is just such an absolute sweetheart, I need a minute

Sawamura Daichi

Now, Daichi is the supportive father

He helps his kids with their homework, with their sports and for sure goes to all their games! He is the parent who cheers for their kid at the top of their lungs

He is the perfect balance of strict and fun like he has his kids at the perfect distance of where a parent should be

Like him and his kids aren’t ‘friends’ nor is he someone that they dislike, he is simply their father and a damn good one at that!

I feel like Daichi is also really fair with his kids, like when they do something wrong he is good at getting them to explain why they did what they did and then show them why it was wrong and he sets fair punishments too

Daichi is the dad that all his kid’s friends are jealous of

I feel like even the friends of his kids will come to him if they ever need help

He has a really good relationship with his kids overall, he loves them deeply and helps them grow to be their own person

Daichi will definitely cry when his kids graduate or go off to college or get married

I am jealous of the imaginary relationship he has with his kids

Extra : Lev/Hinata

Let me also just sprinkle in a little stuff about Hinata and Lev as fathers bc thoughts are being created

Lev, my Russian prince, would create giants like his children will be tall

Taller than him? Probably, and he will be sooo excited to get them into sports or help them find whatever they like

If they're having fun then he is having fun

Also, I feel like he would be the clumsy father,,, he is all limbs and sometimes they get tangled

So yeah he trips over phone cords or playstation remote cords and flings the little devices across the room, ultimately breaking them in half

Okay now Hinata,,,,, he’s so cute and wholesome

Judging from his determined and just overall headstrong character, he would be a very strong-willed dad, he would be good at pushing his kids and motivating them as much as they need

He would also be so optimistic for his kids, like a ray of sunshine whenever they need it, he would always try to make them smile or laugh and </3333

Do I think his kids will be taller than him? Yes bc it would be funny, like imagine his youngest daughter being like 5’11

And Hinata has to stare up at her like 0.0

[myfaveisfuckable]

Rants!

queen ripple/drawcia: they're in love they've never met in canon they're married with an adopted fairy daughter they're divorced and haven't seen each other in 4 billion years they sealed ripple's sorta parental figure with that parental figure's partner they both hate their respective duties despite having to keep at them for their people's/family's sakes they both have golden child syndrome are everything to me do you understand. (literally none of this is part of canon btw i like making shit up about my beloved blorbos who nobody even looks at sideways because they have little to no canon characterization)

Dante/Raiden: This ship comes from the 2006 Playstation Magazine (PSM) issue 110 endpage drawn by comic artist Adam Warren (most known for his comic Empowered) depicting the hypothetical timeline where the PSM swimsuit special is replaced with a 600 page erotic “Dante/Raiden slash fanfiction.” In this panel Dante’s DMC2 design is shown above Raiden’s MGS2 design (notably the most hated versions of these characters at the time, though considering Warren’s feelings towards Dante and Raiden, this pairing was most likely shown to baffle the reader with a well beloved charactered and a much hated character doing something “humiliating” aka. participating in homosexuality). Dante says “Why can’t I quit yew,” a reference to brokeback mountain, and Raiden says “Please be gentle… like snake”

Obviously this panel is meant to be a joke at the expense of both women who write fanfiction, and gay people, made more clear by the second appearance of “Raidante” in Warren’s work, in which Dante is reading yaoi fanfic and remarks “As if I’d settle for someone as lame as Raiden if I was gay!” However, likely because he has never played Metal Gear, Warren fails to consider the thematic implications of this pairing, considering the narratives of each character.

Dante is a demi-human, ashamed of his demon heritage but forced to reconcile with it. To cope with this, he adopts the persona of a “badass devil hunter with a devil may care attitude” as a form of escapism. Because he cannot accept his nature, nor can he come to terms with his past trauma of demons killing his close ones, he remains in stasis and cannot form deep connections with others.

Raiden is human by nature, but was robbed of his flesh by the patriots. Raised a child soldier, he is emotionally stunted and has very little personality to call his own, resorting to grasping at the persona of “Solid Snake” and tacking on his mannerisms to fill what gaps are left in his development. Even after starting a new after the big shell incident, he relapses again into the ego-less being he was at the age of 10, proclaiming himself a weapon and throwing himself at danger and death in the belief that it’s his purpose.

Both of these people are fundamentally unable to connect with others, breaking all of their connections and distancing themselves both out of fear of getting hurt and genuine inability to retain relationships. They use violence and self sacrifice as substitute for meaning in their life, and degrade themselves to that of a sword. Then, when meeting someone who they recognize all their behaviors in, what would happen? Do their own tactics of isolation work on themselves? Do they cancel out, or override each other?

Adam Warren is too much of a coward to explore this concept in a 600 page fanfic, so I will.

[maxmiz]

Okay, If Max were to propose Mariam on her 23rd birthday, what would it be like? Please write something on this, I am eagerly waiting to see this content written by you.

Firstly, thank you much for the ask @velox-the-knight. I thought I’d do one better and write a short one shot fanfic on this. But I’ve tweaked the facts a little. I’ve made it so that they’re both 28 (23 feels a bit too early for someone like Max to marry idk?) and I’ve not made it on her birthday. But I’ll hope you’ll like this!

Also tagging @stroblitzfalborg, @bakutenmayhem @araingirl @midnightstarr8 @gingericywolf @luxahheart @dangpanterita @turquoisewisteria @tshjortile @hiwataris-bitch and anyone else who would like some Max/Mariam content. Feedback is appreciated from anyone who likes Max/Mariam in the fandom! (This is a hurriedly written short fic, so it may not be great lol)

FAIRYTALE

The path to the dojo was covered in chrysanthemums and a young, blithe man strolled down the road, inhaling the fresh scent of spring into his lungs in the hopes that it would inspire him to finally pop the big question. The golden strands of his hair mirrored the bright beams of the radiant sun above, and twenty-eight-year-old Max Mizuhara strode into his best friend’s house with every ounce of his courage tucked away in a little black box in his pocket. Today was the day that he would ask her to marry him.

The familiar, idyllic setting of Takao’s house greeted him at the entrance and comforted him as he tried to pull himself together and calm his nerves. The oddly mature words of wisdom of his precocious younger sister, Charlotte, surfaced in his mind – if you know she’s the one, then she is. If she’s not, you can move on to other things. Like buying me a Playstation.

His eyes scanned the dojo. He half hoped that Daichi would not spring out of some corner with a bowl of soup in his hand and ruin the bouquet of wild flowers that Max was carrying, by tripping and falling over some rock as usual. Max’s mother, Judy, had not appreciated Daichi’s clumsiness when he had all but destroyed her immaculate designer pantsuit by spilling a drink on it by accident.

I can’t believe that I brought flowers, he thought to himself amused. Max had never really been the flowers-and-chocolates type of boyfriend. Romantic gifts were more of Rei and Takao’s domain. Mariam and Max had always had a jovial, easy-going relationship. They did many things together – from trekking to mountaintops and sleeping under the stars together, to skydiving and dancing at carnivals to which Raul and Julia often invited them. But romantic cliches had never been something that either of them was particularly fond of.

Growing up with parents who rarely lived in the same city, Max had never had the occasion to watch any romance blossom between them. Family dinners were often a cold affair, with his mother being an emotionally distant workaholic and his father being in blissful denial about the crumbling state of their marriage. Even as things had improved between his parents after he had won his first world championship, Max’s faith in romance and marriage had forever been marred by the shadow of his childhood in a dead home.

Yet, here he was, ready to ask the love of his life to marry him, with flowers no less. The irony was not lost upon him.

Oddly, it was his two friends Kai and Hiromi who had suggested that he take flowers with him as he proposed to her. Max could swear he almost choked on his drink as he heard those words leave Kai’s mouth. It made him wonder if, in private, Kai had actually ever given his nature-loving boyfriend Brooklyn any flowers. The thought of a romantic Kai seemed almost as inconceivable to him as the thought of Yuri and Takao’s errant brother Hitoshi hooking up. But stranger things had happened in their world – Balkov becoming a reality show star, for one. He certainly gave the Kardashians some stiff competition in the vanity department. Yuri almost retched at seeing Balkov’s vainglorious Instagram account.

Chuckling, Max looked down at his bouquet as the memory of his last conversation with his friends popped up in his mind.

“You listen to me Maximilian Mizuhara…”

“Actually, it’s just Max,” said Max, cutting her short, meekly.

“Did I say that you could interrupt me?” growled Hiromi, rolling her eyes. “Now, as I was saying…you have to get her flowers! You can’t propose without flowers to a woman who has been raised in the mountains in the lap of nature. Back me up, Hiwatari!”

Kai put down his drink on the table and shrugged. “You heard the woman.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Max, surprised. “And what if she does not like flowers?”

“Then you can take off your clothes and hope that she forgets about the flowers when she sees you in your magnificent birthday suit,” said a drunk Takao, laughing at his own joke without a care in the world.

“Takao!” said Hiromi, smacking him lightly on his head.

“Ow, what was that for?” said Takao, crossly.

“Your jokes are getting worse every day. Soon you’ll give Ivan a run for his money and that is not a compliment. Ask Yuri and Boris. They had to make a jar specifically for him in which he has to drop a penny every time he makes a terrible joke. There was enough money in it by the end of the year for Yuri to buy Julia a gift pack from Victoria’s Secret and have money left over for Boris and Sergei to go drinking expensive wine at Ralf’s vineyard. Do you want me to make such a jar for you too?” said Hiromi, narrowing her eyes.

“If it helps get you your favorites from Victoria’s Secret, why not,” said Takao, playfully.

Hiromi blushed and pretended to text on her phone.

“Okayyyy, get a room you two,” said Rei, laughing.

“Alright, guys, can we deal with my problem before Mr. World Champion here starts his drunken monologue? Is it yay or nay on the flowers? Won’t it be too cliched for Mariam to appreciate?” said Max, frowning.

“Make it so that it isn’t,” said Kai, in a deep voice.

 Make it so that it isn’t. I hope I’m doing this right.

Max walked further into the dojo to see Mariam sitting on the porch, with her long blue strands of hair casually tied up on top of her head in a bun. She was dressed in a white shirt and red skirt, while a tattoo of Sharkrash on her smooth, porcelain skin glimmered under the light of the sun. Max gasped as he watched his beautiful girlfriend concentrate on the book that she was reading, one that Max instantly recognized as his favorite, personal copy of Bitches Gotta Beyblade. Ming Ming had written quite the tantalizing but wonderful biography of her life as a beyblading and singing sensation – and though Max had initially found her annoying during her BEGA days, he had come to admire her over the years. Juggling school and Beyblade while winning Grammys every year was no mean feat.

As Max stepped into the garden by the little pond, Mariam lifted her face from her book and looked at him with a smile on her face.

“Maxie. What’s up? Why are we meeting at the dojo when neither Takao nor grandpa are here? Feels a little weird,” said Mariam, suspiciously.

“Weird? Why is that? We’re always hanging out at the dojo on weekends,” said Max, hiding the bouquet behind his back.

“You know…like we’re trespassing or something while he’s not around,” said Mariam.

“Trespassing? Did your conscience prick you like this when you were stalking me day and night to seal my bit-beast?” teased Max.

“For the last time Max, I wasn’t stalking. I was just gathering intel,” said Mariam, feigning annoyance.

“Alright, Mata Hari, pipe down,” quipped Max. “Ozuma can’t hear you, you know. We both know that you couldn’t get enough of me.”

“Oh yeah, and who was the one putting on all the moves in a collapsing building? Seriously Max, who flirts when they’re almost about to get crushed by a building?” said Mariam, playfully.

“Guilty as charged, m’lady,” said Max, laughing.

Mariam uncrossed her legs and leaned against a wooden pillar casually. “What have you got behind you?”

A romantic cliché, that’s what.

“Hmm, let’s see,” said Max, pulling out the bouquet and presenting it to her.

“Flowers…” said Mariam, surprised.

“Not just any flowers,” said Max, handing her the bouquet.

Mariam looked more closely at the bouquet and Max could see her face lighting up.

“Orchids…from my village in the mountains…” said Mariam, looking touched.

Max knew that Mariam missed her village frequently. Even though she quite liked her life as a marine biologist, free from the shackles of her tribe’s strict and conservative rules, Max often found her wistfully longing for the mountains that she called her home. He knew that if flowers were the way to go, he would personally write to Yusuf and request him to send them to Japan, where he and Mariam were living temporarily after taking a sabbatical from their jobs in California.

“What…what’s the occasion?” said Mariam.

Oh boy, here goes.

“Well…I don’t know how to do this…” mumbled Max, as he slipped his hand into his pocket.

Mariam watched him curiously as he pulled out a little black box.

“Oh…my…” said Mariam, intuitively, the minute that she laid her eyes on the box. “Are you asking me to…”

Max stared at Mariam, unsure about how to proceed with it. He stood quietly staring at her for a solid two minutes until Mariam said, “Uh…Max?”

Kneel, you moron. You can gawk at her later, thought Max as he mentally slapped himself, before going down on one knee.

“Mariam…I never thought that there’d come a day that I’d find myself asking you…or anyone, to marry me. I have never believed in fairytale endings or happily ever-afters. And I don’t believe that being with you is my fairytale ending, because nobody knows what the future holds. But you certainly are the beginning of my fairytale. Now I wish I had Rei’s eloquence to be able to come up with a romantic poem on the spot, but that’s not me. I’m all smiles and jokes and mustard on noodles and we have had always had an unconventional relationship. So, in the spirit of that…” said Max, opening the box, mid-sentence.

Okay, here goes nothing.

Much to Mariam’s surprise, Max pulled out a red, silken bandana from the box and tied it around her forehead.

“I could have got a ring…and I will after this, but I don’t do cliches. Now, I’m 14 years late, but here’s a long overdue replacement for the bandana you tied around my arm when I injured myself protecting you in that collapsing building. I’m tying this around your forehead as a promise to protect you for as long as I can, no matter how many buildings collapse on us and no matter what hurts me in the process. So…will you…marry me?” said Max.

Mariam gasped. She looked like someone had punched her in the gut.

“You know, Takao’s garden has just been hosed an hour ago. My jeans are getting soaked in the mud. Could you answer faster?” said Max, sheepishly.

“Well…yes, you idiot!” said Mariam, throwing her arms around Max and hugging him tenderly.

Kissing her softly on the cheek, Max pulled away and looked into her gorgeous green eyes. He had spent many a night looking into them, but this was the first time that he had seen a touch of vulnerability in them. If anything, her eyes looked even more beautiful now.

“Oh, that was so fucking cute, I’m going to faint!”

“Hell yeah, go Maxie!”

“Max, you dawg…”

Shocked, Max and Mariam looked to the left to see their friends peering at them from behind the dojo and giggling amongst themselves. Kai and Brooklyn did not seem to partake in their laughter, but smiled approvingly at him and Mariam.

“How long have you guys been there?” said Max, going red in the face.

“Long enough, buddy,” said Takao, bellowing with laughter.

“You promised you’d be out,” said Max, embarrassedly.

“And miss this? Never!” said Hiromi, slyly.

“Oh yeah, Kyouju even taped it,” said Rei, giving their bespectacled friend a nudge.

“It’s time for some celebration!” said Hiromi.

“Drinks in the garden?” said Takao.

“On it,” volunteered Brooklyn. Kai joined him to go into the house and fetch the celebratory champagne.

Max looked at his friends and then at Mariam, and smiled. He had finally found a sense of contentment that had eluded him for most of his life.

The beginning of a fairytale indeed.

[something-tofightfor]

Guess Who?

1.5k follower celebration #1

Pairing: Logan Delos x Reader (HCtS)

Word Count: 1293

Rating: None, really. This is pretty tame. 

Here we go! My first post for the entries for the 1.5k event, and it’s for @pheedraws! This one was a heck of a lot of fun to write, because I’ve missed Mr. and Mrs. Delos... let’s see what they’ve been up to since ‘Appreciate It’ ... and how Logan is dealing with staying somewhat quarantined. 

“This wasn’t a good idea, Lo.” You wrinkled your nose at your husband, pausing. “We don’t have to -” 

 “Yes we do.” The man’s tone was sharp, and though you knew that it wasn’t directly at you, it made you sigh. “What are our other options?” We don’t have any. You tilted your head back, staring up at the slowly darkening  sky for a few moments, and then looked back down at the table in front of you. Here we go. 

 “Does your person have …” You squinted. “Brown eyes?” With a grumble, Logan picked the card up from the slot at the front of his game board and brought it closer to his face. 

 “Yes.” He tucked it back into the slot, and you began flicking down the tabs filled with cartoon images that did not have brown eyes, thinking. 

 “Does your person have hair?” Logan’s question caught you off guard, but you quickly replied with a yes, watching as the man flipped down a few impossible options of his own. “That was a stupid question.” He frowned. “There are only four of ‘em that don’t -”

 “Not a stupid question, Logan, it’s part of the game.” You tapped your fingers against the glass of iced tea sitting on the table next to you, the tips of them dampened by the condensation running down the glass. “My turn.” He looked back up at you, waiting. “Is your person wearing a hat?” 

 “No, she -” He winced. “Fuck!” Logan swore loudly, closing his eyes. “They are not wearing a hat.” Fighting back laughter at the expression on his face, you flipped down the people wearing hats, and then after a short pause, also flipped down all of the remaining men. Sorry, Lo. “Oh, come on, that’s not…” He sighed. “What do you have, like three options left?” 

 “Logan, I told you that we didn’t have to play. All of these are here for Em when she’s over, and I’m not sure why you thought that we…” He was staring at you, his eyes focused, and even though you could tell he was annoyed you also saw something else behind the expression. “When you suggested game night, I thought we’d play something on the PlayStation or the Switch, not...” You trailed off. “Why do you have that look on your face? You look like -”

 “I’m sick of sitting in the house.” He ran a hand through his hair - which was much longer than you’d ever seen it, the ends of the strands curling around his neck and almost to his shoulders. “It’s been months, and I just …” He sighed. “Leavin’ to go into work is one thing, but we…”

 “I know it sucks, Logan, but think of it this way… if we don’t go out, no one can spin stories about us.” The game abandoned, you stood and walked to his side of the table, waiting for him to scoot his chair back so that you could lower yourself sideways onto his lap. “I know things are a lot different now than they were a couple months ago, but it’s good press for us to be…” You gestured toward the house with your left hand. “Here instead of out in Hollywood or Calabasas or…” You ran your fingers through his hair absently, watching as he turned his face up to look at you. “Delos has shifted their focus to the medical field over the past few years, and it looks good when the CEO is on board with doing whatever he has to to -” You were cut off as he pulled your face to his for a kiss, Logan’s lips pressed to yours in a way that you’d never get sick of. You know I’m right. 

 “But we…” He sighed, kissing you once more before releasing you. “You’re right. That one time we went out to dinner and downtown, they had a field day, didn’t they.” You nodded, still combing through his hair. He should keep this, even when… things are back to normal and he wouldn’t get crucified for getting it cut, even by a Host. You felt your lips lifting at the thought. “They should stick to giving the real celebrities shit and not me.” 

 “What did you tell me when we got married in Vegas?” You pressed your hand to his chest, eyes moving down briefly to look at the rings you wore. “It comes with the territory?” He laughed at that. “There’s plenty of time for them to take pictures of you - of us when all this is over and everything’s open again.” His eyes locked on you, you winked at him. “Your person’s Susan, by the way.” 

 He didn’t say anything, though his gaze dropped back to his rack of cards, and yours followed. Bingo. With two fingers, you plucked the card from the slot, grinning and holding it up in front of your husband’s face, watching as his frown deepened. He hates losing. 

 “You know, Lo…” You shifted on his lap, letting the card fall to the table and hoping that it didn’t blow away. “I know you guys try to keep the Hosts kind of a mystery until the guests get into the Parks … but did your marketing team ever think to make games featuring some of them? The ones in the ads and brochures, at least?” His eyes widening slightly, you continued. “Of course you can market it any way you want, but you know it would entice some of the Guests to try and find Hosts that they hadn’t otherwise…” 

 “I’m sure it’s been brought up, our people are…” He groaned as your hands dropped to his shoulders, fingers digging in as you moved them in slow circles. “They’re good with stuff like that, but I’ll mention it to the marketing lead next time I talk to…” He groaned again, arms moving to your waist and then going around it, one hand settled on your hip. “That feels…” He went silent as you continued to work on his muscles, his head drooping down and your eyes out on the sand of the beach beyond your yard as Logan relaxed under your touch.

 I’ve gotta do something. You let out a breath as your hands moved lower, Logan resting his forehead against your shoulder for a few seconds before turning his head to kiss the side of your neck, lips moving over the skin almost lazily. He saw Juliet at work when they both needed to be in the office for things, but Logan hadn’t seen Emily or Isaac in person in months, nor had he spent time with Mark outside of video calls. But it’s best. They have to be better than… You thought of the other people that you, Logan and Juliet commonly shared the pages of the tabloids with, rolling your eyes even though he couldn’t see it. All of them. And he is. They are, but … I bet I can get them over here to swim and to eat without…

 Your mind working, you didn’t even realize that your hands had moved to the front of Logan’s chest, pushing him away from you. “Hey.” His voice startled you, and you shook yourself back to attention. “What are you thinking about?” Don’t tell him yet. Make sure it can happen first.

 “Just trying to figure something out for you.” You raised one eyebrow. “But I’m not gonna tell you what it is.” His eyes lighting up, Logan searched your face for a few seconds, but seemed satisfied with the answer. “Want to pl-”

 “No.” He slid an arm beneath your knees as he pushed the chair back even further. “No, I can think of a much better game to play with you tonight.” 

---

General:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @its-my-little-dumpster-fire @obscurilicious @sweetybuzz25 @suchatinyinfinity @lexxierave @gollyderek @poindexted @ificouldhelpyouforget @elanor-of-imladris @thesandbeneathmytoes @luminex3 @geeksareunique @weallhaveadestiny @mfackenthal @thesumofmychoices @yannii04 @beautiful-thinking @drinix @agentlingerie @blah-blah-fuckit-shit  @dreams-with-thoughts @wangmangagavroche @traeumerinwitzhelden @jigsawlover10 @malionnes @addictedtofictionalcharacters @marauderskeeper​ @lovemarvelousfics @pheedraws​ @fairywriter-oracle​ @aroyaldarknessblr​ @bisexual-space-slut​  @fific7​  @maralisa124​ @commanderlola @eternitydarkling​ @beautifuldesastre​

Logan Delos:

@nananananananananananabatman​ @damalseer​ @chibiyanai​ @life-is-a-melody​ @songtoyou​ @samfindsout​ @tartiflvtte​

Uncategorized:

@madamrogers​ @ethereal-heavcns​ @editboutique​ @ilkaeliseb​ @delicatelilyflower​ @king4thesirens​ @ymariejp​ @mr-robot-x @rageshots​ @introvertedlibrary​ @writing-for-a-chance​ @yesixoxo @ilikebeachessushiandsmallanimals​ @swiftyhowlz​ @dylanobrusso​ @malik-payne @lynne1993​ @ladyblablabla​ @audreychaz​ @tc-elliot @kind-wolf @honeyydippaa​ @binbonsadoration​ @jeanettexkillian​ @avengerswhore​ @elioelioeli0​ @projectcampbell​ @giggleberts​ @elfmama​ @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes​

[athena1138]

About Me/Tag List (Outdated as of Jan. 18, 2025)

I figured I’d go ahead and instead of just updating my tag list, I’d just create a full About Me because I don’t really have one. 

My name’s Becca. I’m 25, live in the U.S., use she/her pronouns, and I’m queer. I would use a more specific label but frankly idfk what's going on anymore.

I graduated with a Bachelor’s in Mandarin Chinese, and I also speak nearly fluent Spanish and a bit of French. I’ve got 2 cats, Varric and Chowder.

I’m absurdly shy, so instead of talking to other people like a proper member of society, I just go like/reblog every post someone shares until they either block me or they talk to me lol. (So, if I’m in your notes a lot, I greatly enjoy your presence and consider you a friend even if we’ve never said a word to each other.)  If you’re interested, my Ask box or my DMs are always open to people who wanna talk. I’m not a great conversationalist, so it’d be best if you just throw me into a topic instead of trying to make small talk.

I do not tolerate terfs or anything of the sort, nor homophobes, racists, sexists, nazis, white supremacists, Trump supporters, incels, MAPs/pedophiles, you get the point. If you’re into that kind of shit, you can go ahead and flush yourself down the toilet with the rest of it because I want nothing to do with you.

I stream at twitch on Mondays at about 5:30 EST, and I try to post YouTube videos of my streams on Sundays. Both names for that are athena1138 if you're ever interested.

Athena1138 is my name for just about everything--snap, insta, tiktok, twitch, steam, epic. I’m on both PlayStation and Xbox under Blackheart1138 because I was young and edgy. I’ve got an ao3 as PusillanimousBitch1138, and I’ve got other tumblr blogs, too. Pb1138 is my writing blog and Gossamer-Wings-and-Teeth1138 is my art blog. I have others but they’re not as active. 

My main fandoms seem to be Dragon Age, Mass Effect, Critical Role, Dimension 20, the Witcher, things of that nature. 

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Yeah, I ran out of steam lol. So this is my tag list if you want to blacklist something or whatever. The posts I tag the most consistently are posts that I make myself. 

shut up becca -- this tag goes with all original posts I make, no matter what they are. Sometimes I’ll forget, but I’m usually pretty good about adding at least this one. 

selfie / my face / me -- these are some of the tags I’ll use if I share a selfie. It doesn’t happen super often, but I usually do 2 or 3 at a time because I’m feeling myself. 

critical role spoilers / critrole spoilers / cr spoilers -- all 3 of these are the tags I’ll put on every post concerning the newest episode of Critical Role until a week after it airs. I.e., this week’s episode is 118. Every post concerning ep118 will be tagged with all 3 tags until the following Thursday. Unless I forget which happens, but usually only for a post or 2. This applies to all posts, even ones not made by me. If it’s a post that applies to more than just this one episode, I will also include the tags -- critical role / critrole / cr -- and I will also tag characters as needed. 

cat / cats / my cat / my son / my cats / my sons / my children -- these go with posts about my cats. Each cat has his own individual tag, either -- varric giovanni cathras / pippin armani took / riz chowder gukcat -- depending on which cat it is. 

personal -- posts where I talk about myself or my life or my family or my feelings. this one has been popping up a lot more lately. 

becca writes -- posts where I share my writing

becca draws -- posts about my drawings 

becca rambles -- posts where I’m just talking, probably about nothing super important 

becca rants -- rants. 

becca’s work -- posts about my job. Usually paired with the becca rants tag because my job is stressful 

becca’s family drama -- posts about shit going on in my shithole family. I’m white trash so there’s quite a bit of it. 

becca speaks -- kind of goes with becca rambles, but this one usually goes with asks, too. 

becca’s dreams -- my dreams. I have very detailed dreams that I usually remember, so the interesting ones get posted. 

my ocs -- my ocs. I’ve got like 54 of them by now. I don’t talk about them as much as I used to, but they’re still there. There are tags for groupings (like, wardens: missella/mireena/brilla/rastig , hawkes: belladonna/anna/nev/mariana ) but there’s too many to just tag them by name anymore. I’m also very tired and won’t write out every single grouping I have, especially since I’ll probably just churn a new one out and have to update it again. 

It is important to note that I do not tag most posts which are reblogged. 99.5% of the time, I do a fast reblog. The other .5% is usually just me talking in the notes. I will sometimes tag things that I think might be triggers and will tag it like “ tw whateveritis “ but that’s for the really sensitive stuff. If I post a lot about something that you think I should tag, you can tell me, but I won’t promise to commit to tagging it. (Like, Cullen. I’ve been asked to tag posts about Cullen. Like no, dude, at that point you should just unfollow me because I post about him a lot.) I try to be considerate, but at the end of the day, this is my blog and I don’t have the spoons to try to conscientiously tag each and every one of the nearly-limit-reaching amount of posts I post every day. If you do have something you want me to tag, please send it to me in a DM rather than as an ask on anon. I tend to see anons asking me to do things like that as aggressive whether they intend to be or not, and will most likely just delete it, whereas with a DM I have a face to place it with and can check myself. 

Which brings me to my final thing:  I’m a bitch, y’all. People are usually surprised. Most of the time, I don’t mean to be. I have a hard time reading social cues and more often than not, I don’t realize I’m being rude until way after the fact. It’s worse when I’m tired which is all the time nowadays. You’re free to call me on it if you care to. 

[thistreasurehunter]

Testing the Waters

Summary: JJ and Pope discuss their developing relationship.

Set three weeks after my fic After the Rain, but this can also be read as a stand alone oneshot.

A/N: I’m very new to this, so comments/feedback would be amazing!

Disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Outer Banks characters or settings.

*********************************************************

“There’s no rush, you know.”

Pope froze. His avatar on the screen froze too before quickly being shot by one of the other players.

“Aw, dude no!” JJ exclaimed.

Pope’s side of the screen tinged red around the corners, but he wasn’t paying attention.

“What do you mean, ‘there’s no rush’?”

JJ paused the game and turned to look at him.

They were sitting on Pope’s bed, backs against the headboard, legs stretched out, controllers in hand, playing a game on Pope’s old PlayStation.

It had been three weeks since the afternoon when JJ had dared The Pogues to play a game of spin the bottle. Three weeks since JJ and Pope had first kissed in a dull, post-storm fug to the soundtrack of staccato raindrops and in front of an audience of their friends. Three weeks since a storm and a dare and an old beer bottle had helped something click into place between them that Pope had previously feared would otherwise have been left unsaid.

Pope’s heart clenches when he thinks about the fragility of that moment: about how that afternoon could so easily have turned out differently, about how they might never again have been granted the excuse to act on their repressed feelings, about how he might have gone on for the rest of his life without knowing what it felt like to kiss his best friend and to be kissed back. About how he might never have found out that his best friend tastes like the ocean, but smells like freshly cut grass after the rain. Everything is fragile, Pope thought. Mind the corners.

Pope and JJ had taken things slowly after that. Outwardly, their relationship hadn’t changed much. If The Pogues hadn’t been there that afternoon they might not have noticed the subtle shift in their two friends. Pope noticed though. The warm weight of the closeness he always felt with JJ increasing: the casual touches, the shy smiles, the knowing glances, the single look shared across a crowded room that spoke volumes. JJ’s arm flung around his shoulders was now accompanied by a thumb softly stroking up and down his neck. A teasing quip was now followed by a quick kiss to the top of his head. Pope was leaning into this behaviour too. Sitting next to JJ on the HMS Pogue, or on the sofa at The Chateau, he let his leg rest against JJ’s. Toying with the ends of JJ’s salt encrusted hair when they lay on the beach drying off after a surfing session.

In quieter moments, their relationship had changed as well. In the stillness of the small hours, sprawled in an armchair on the porch of The Chateau after the others had drifted to bed, they pressed against one another, lips pushing and sucking and sliding in an intoxicating dance. Fingers trailing down forearms, slipping under shirts and following the curve of a spine. Tongues tracing patterns down the column of a neck, teeth lightly nipping, gentle tugs on hair. In these moments, Pope felt the throb of promise between them. It was alive, and palpable, and he could taste it in the air between them, feel it light his skin on fire and burn white hot in his veins.

They had never taken things any further, though. After that first afternoon, Pope and JJ had spoken freely; the platform of acceptance and reciprocation dampening any slight awkwardness and misplaced embarrassment of the moment. They had shyly acknowledged their interest in each other and their mutual hope that they could explore these new feelings together, taking things slowly, one step at a time. For several reasons, however, they had agreed that they would rather keep their developing relationship quiet for the time being. Pope wanted to understand more about his sexuality and these new feelings first, before speaking to his parents about them and JJ was wary about letting his dad find out he was attracted to men as well as women. So far, therefore, The Pogues were the only ones who knew. And for the time being, Pope and JJ wanted to keep it that way.

Earlier that day, JJ had turned up at Pope’s house and, as both his parents were at work, JJ had pulled Pope upstairs, stopping every few steps to plant a kiss on his lips, his shoulder, his eyebrow, his ear... By the time they got to Pope’s room they were breathless and laughing, collapsing on his bed with a huff and a giggle, in a tangle of sun-kissed limbs and soft eyes. JJ crawled up Pope’s body, catching his lips and time melted away into a blur of sighs and sharp breaths and slow exhales. As slowly as they were going, Pope could feel that pressure building between them again, starting like a hot twinge in his abdomen and slowly growing to a throbbing throughout his whole body. It was – all at once – all he needed and nowhere near enough. He was suddenly hyper aware of the languid roll of JJ’s hips, the solid, warm pressure on his thigh and the soft pads of JJ’s fingertips against the smooth skin of his back, right above the waistband of his shorts.

JJ broke away from the kiss and looked into Pope’s eyes. Assessing, Pope thought.

“So, do you want to?” JJ asked simply.

Pope swallowed hard. Yes, he wanted to say. Yes, yes, yes. But a twinge of something else had joined the anticipation in his stomach. Nerves, perhaps? Maybe even a hint of fear? JJ must have read the hesitation on his face because he pulled away slightly, putting a little space between their bodies. Pope instinctively tightened his fingers on JJ’s bicep.

“Pope,” JJ began softly, looking down at him. But at that moment, both boys heard the rattle of the front door and the sound of Mrs Heyward entering the house.

They scrambled up and apart, self-consciously adjusting themselves. Pope flicked on the TV and JJ sprawled on his front, feigning interest in the show. A moment later there was a soft knock and Mrs Heyward cracked the door ajar.

“Hi mom.”

“Hi Mrs H.”

“Hi boys,” she said. “Just wanted to let you know I was home, Pope. You eating with us tonight JJ, dear?”

“Love to, if that’s okay with you guys?” JJ grinned.

“Of course it is sweetie,” she smiled and Pope nodded.

“I’ll call up when it’s ready,” she said leaving the room. They listened to her head downstairs and began clattering around in the kitchen. Pope caught JJ’s eye and grinned sheepishly. JJ smiled back then picked up the pair of controllers, throwing one to Pope and settling back against the headboard.

Now, with the game on pause and the sounds of Mrs Heyward moving around downstairs, Pope looked into JJ’s eyes and repeated quietly, “What did you mean, ‘there’s no rush’?”

“Well,” JJ said quietly, glancing at the slightly open door. “After earlier, you know. I just wanted you to know, there’s no rush.” He looked down at his hands and started fiddling with his thumb ring. “I didn’t want you to feel,” he exhaled, “I didn’t want you to feel pressured or anything.”

Pope watched the fingers slowly spin the ring.

“I didn’t,” he said slowly. “It was just…”

JJ looked up at him quickly.

Pope faltered, “I’m not sure how to explain it. I want to. Oh my god JJ, I really want to! But in the moment, I dunno, I just got a bit nervous.”

“This is new to both of us, you know,” JJ replied softly.

“Yeah but, more to me than you, you know.”

JJ scanned Pope’s face. “I guess,” JJ said finally. “If we’re just talking generally about being with another person. But this is different to being with a girl. This,” he said gesturing between them “is new for both of us. Not just the feelings, but the physical stuff as well. We’re both just finding our way here.”

Pope looked into the earnest blue eyes and nodded. “Yeah,” he smiled ruefully, “I think a lot of it might also have been me feeling a bit performance shy.” He felt his cheeks begin to heat and looked down shyly. “I just keep thinking about those girls and how experienced some of them might have been and how I’m going to be in comparison to that.”

“Yeah, but dude,” JJ huffed out a laugh, smiling at him “you’ll be starting with a major advantage.” Pope looked over and JJ wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. Pope suppressed a little smile, looking down again. JJ tangled their fingers together on top of the bedspread.

“How about, next time we’re there,” JJ grinned, “and it’s right. How about we just” he paused, re-lacing his fingers with Pope’s. “How about we just, touch each other how we like to touch ourselves?”

Pope flicked his eyes up from the play of their fingers to meet JJ’s gaze and swallowed, feeling the heat behind the look. He breathed deeply, his chest starting to rise and fall, as he felt that hot, tight coil in his stomach twist again.

“Yeah,” he said, mouth dry and eyes fixed on the turbulent seas of JJ’s eyes. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

JJ’s smile was neither teasing, nor smug. It was just sweet and open and honest, as he squeezed Pope’s hand and then lifted his own to cup Pope’s chin and lean forward to give him a soft kiss. The barest press of slightly parted lips. It was a kiss of promise and hope and future. And in the shared breath and the space between them, Pope felt like he could float away.

[loquaciousquark]

Cut for talk of COVID and irresponsible failure to social distance (my own). Also, some updates on what’s been going on here for the last month or so.

part one:

Very very long story that I am truncating as much as possible. As you all know, I am an optometrist and professor. When we shut down in March, our university made a huge, painful shift to remote learning and our student clinic ceased operations altogether. Neither students nor faculty saw patients from March 15 - the the middle of May. At the end of May, faculty began seeing patients directly in an extremely reduced schedule, and at the beginning of June, we began adding in very limited numbers of students in a rolling schedule that minimized exposure to all involved.

Three weeks ago, my dear friend Jasper contacted me and said that an old friend of hers, whom I will call Carol, was in dire straits after losing her job overseas. Carol has an extremely rocky history: a terrible car accident that left her legs and feet permanently damaged which directly led to a very bad divorce, significant student loan debt (just shy of six digits I think, compounded from the accident, since she used her student loans to pay her medical bills--for anyone reading this, do not EVER EVER EVER DO THIS--student loans are never touched by bankruptcy declarations and you will owe them until you die), and something of an inability to put down roots. She is an English teacher who has taught and traveled all over the world: Prague, Bahrain, Czech Republic, Los Angeles, Rio, etc.

When I first met her about ten years ago, she had come back to Alabama from Prague because a job had fallen through. She was completely broke and living out of two suitcases and a carry-on. She lived with us for three months for free, sleeping in Jasper’s bed because we had no other room for her, and eventually got a job in Boston and moved on. She lasted--I think--about two months in Boston before quitting and taking a job in the Middle East.

On top of her student loan debt, Carol also has significant IRS debt and is in debt to several of her friends. Over the last few years, she took several ill-advised positions overseas back to back without ever consulting a lawyer on her contracts, and did not realize until recently that one of her positions classified her as an independent contractor instead of an employee, so she owed US taxes on all her income for that period of time. Her most recent job in Prague she lost in February because she filed her visa (again, without a lawyer) incorrectly, and what should have been a brief three-week stay outside of the country became a six week stay on the couch of strangers in the Czech Republic while she waited for her visa reapplication to process. However, it was denied, and then COVID hit, and she returned to Alabama with only a portion of her possessions and tons of important paperwork left behind in her Prague apartment. She then unfortunately had two emergency surgeries on her stomach for an acute, unpredictable medical issue, and while she is well healing now, it also added on another forty thousand dollars of medical debt to what she already owed.

She stayed with her mother and sister while she was recovering from the emergency surgeries, but her family is emotionally abusive and very unkind to her, and after a few weeks she left their home and went to stay with Jasper. However, Jasper is also 8 months pregnant with her fourth child, and they both knew it was a temporary thing. Jasper knows that I have a large home with several spare bedrooms, and asked if I would be willing to host Carol for a period of time while she got back on her feet. I knew what I was agreeing to when I said yes, and Carol and I settled on a period of two months. She has now been here almost three weeks.

Frankly, I do not like Carol very much. We are unbelievably different people in every way--personality, temperament, proclivity to crying in front of other people, hobbies, interests, religion, all of it. She is a very nice person, and I think she truly does mean well. But she is the most emotionally needy and energy-sapping person I have ever met, and I cannot tolerate her company in more than small chunks. It is not possible to hold a conversation with her about any subject tangentially related to her difficulties; if I try to sympathize with her loans by mentioning my own, she shuts me down by saying at least I will have the chance to ever pay them back. If I just try to listen without commentary, she’ll wrap herself up in her own stories and talk for hours without ever needing more than “mm”s and “hm”s and my undivided attention the entire time.

She will often work herself up into sobbing tears over her situation(s), and she always informs me immediately of any new development in any of her numerous trials: which are usually negative, considering the situation, and usually resulting in more tears. She has cried on me probably more than a dozen times since she moved in, and she wields “I love you” like a weapon, more to hear the validation of the response than to truly express the sentiment. She constantly asks for advice on her situation but does not listen to any of it--seems more to just want to relive each tragic detail of her life over and over again with an audience, wondering why she’s continually “screwed over in her life.” (Really, really poor financial decisions and constantly trusting her own “intuition” over getting competent legal advice before signing contracts, are I think the biggest contributors.) She has told me so many private details about her personal views, relationships with her ex-husband and mother and sister, her financial choices, and her extensive travel and job history over the last few years that I probably know her history better than my own at this point.

I think she thinks by sharing so much that she is justifying to me her need to stay with me. What is actually happening is that I am forced to help shoulder this enormous emotional load that compounds my own mental health problems I’ve been having since all this started. I have told her more than once that she does not need to justify herself to me and that my home is open to her for two months, no strings attached. I believe she is making all the steps she needs to and do not need reports on her daily activities to “pay” for her lodging or electricity or internet or whatever. This has changed the behavior a little for the better but not stopped it.

There are moments that are not bad. As I have mentioned, she does mean well and want well for most people. She likes Hamlet and loves Jasper, who is extremely important to me. But she is extremely difficult to be around in so many other ways, and the way she constantly exclaims over how we basically think alike on all things (absolutely untrue) makes me think she either will not or cannot read my reluctance to engage on any of these topics.

(An example: I was watching footage of the SpaceX launch and despite my feelings on Elon Musk, really excited about the implications for space travel. She came in, and after misunderstanding for some time that I was not watching Space Force with Steve Carell, decided that the SpaceX program was morally bankrupt, obviously borne of shady backroom government deals, and everyone involved should have used the money to solve world hunger instead. For the record, she had not heard of the shuttle launch, SpaceX, or Elon Musk at all before the seeing the footage.)

(She also until last week had not heard of Playstation, Xbox, streaming as a concept, or any game more modern than the original Mario. Trying to order a grocery delivery online was an excruciating torment for her [took her over four days to get through selecting the items, selecting allowable replacements, and actually paying] and I will not ask her to do it again. She frequently makes comments about video games being a waste of time, and when she sees children playing outside, comments on how glad she is they are not inside playing video games. She doesn’t seem to realize her comments are a direct commentary on me; I think she genuinely does not understand that those games are what I am playing most of my free time.)

Right now, everything seems to hinge on her passing some teacher recertification tests next week and the week after. She spent $150 to give herself less than a week to study from scratch for a test she described as the hardest she’d ever taken. There were several other dates later in the summer she could have chosen, and her deadline is December, but she picked the soonest option for reasons I can’t fathom. She is also in the process of trying to get a car--right now I’m driving her everywhere--and she was ready to hand over $3800 yesterday for a ten-year-old Hyundai with a check-engine light on without even thinking of getting any kind of inspection. She is far more concerned with the color and “energy” of the car than its function, and would not have even checked the headlights and blinkers if I hadn’t prompted it.

She will be here another five weeks or so. We move around each other now better than we did before, and I hope it will continue to improve. But it’s a lot like a rock grinding a groove in the streambed from the repetitive friction, and it’s not the struggle I wanted to be having right now.

part two:

As I mentioned above, Jasper is having her fourth child in a month or so. One of her friends, someone I don’t know, contacted me and said she wanted to do a drive-by “baby sprinkle,” where no one gets out of their cars. You drop off the gifts, talk to the recipient a few minutes from the car window, and move on. I told her that I work in health care and am exposed to patients, so that sounded good to me.

The shower was this morning. Carol and I got up and drove the thirty minutes to Jasper’s house. There were four other families in cars right around the corner, and the “hostess” gave us all balloons to tie on our side mirrors. She told us we would drive around the corner, drop off the gifts, and loop around. Jasper’s husband would arrange for her to be in the front yard at the right time.

Cute enough. We go around the corner with little honks and Jasper sees us and starts crying, and it’s all wonderful and emotional and a fabulous surprise and I’m genuinely excited about it. And then people start parking and getting out of their cars, and Carol and I start looking at each other. They’re full families, too--three of the other moms brought all their kids, and soon enough they’re playing with Jasper’s three boys in the front yard and coming up asking to pet Hamlet through the car window. No one was wearing masks.

And what’s worse, when they all started looking at us expectantly through the car window, we didn’t know what to do. They were handing Jasper her gifts and obviously settling in for a good long chat; the women were hugging, talking about how they are “so over this COVID stuff, please come visit soon,” and Hamlet of course recognizes his original owners in Jasper and her husband so he’s freaking out, and after a few moments, we decided to just get out of the car.

It was the first time I really felt the social pressure to participate in an event I wasn’t comfortable with. I have no issue maintaining my social distance and my mask and my handwashing at work because that is where I have the position of authority, and I have the responsibility to model it for the students and patients--but here, I was a guest at someone else’s house at someone else’s event, and I really, really felt how they might perceive me as rude. While I didn’t know the other women, my relationship with Jasper is extremely important to me, and I didn’t want to make this special event for her difficult in any way.

So we got out of the car and joined the group. I tried to keep my distance as much as possible, especially since I had Hamlet on the leash and there were a half-dozen small children around, but at least twice I looked up and there was someone right at my elbow, and we made small talk for five minutes or so before either she drifted back to the group or I moved Hamlet into the shade away from the rest.

Cars drove by and slowed down more than once to look at us. Jasper’s husband made a comment about rolling his eyes if he saw their family on Facebook that evening. The women planned play dates, all standing very close together, and Jasper opened her gifts (that part was excellent). All in all we were probably there about twenty minutes. 

I should mention that on the drive there, we passed a public park that has a very pretty waterfall right next to the road, and there were probably a dozen families out playing. There was a festival/outdoor market right outside the the park that had a sign up about social distancing, but the fifty or so people we saw shopping there were not adhering in any meaningful way. No one wore a mask.

And what annoys the bejeezus out of me is that I didn’t either. I didn’t even think about it until after we finally got back in the car to drive away. This is the first social event I’ve gone to since the first week of March, and while I wear masks for eight+ hours every day I go in to work, it didn’t occur to me even a single time to put on even my little cloth one that I keep in the car until we were driving away afterwards. I was so flummoxed by every little thing happening differently than I expected--people getting out of cars, how surprised I was by my own susceptibility to not rocking the boat, how normal everyone else made it to stand so close they could bump elbows so that Carol and I became almost excluded from the circle--that it never once crossed my mind. I know masks are more for the protection of those around you, not to keep you from catching what other people are carrying, but I could have set an example. I could have been the health professional I should have been in the moment.

I’m just so disappointed in myself. Disappointed in my own carelessness, irritated that I didn’t say anything, continually frustrated in a deep, gut-wrenching way by the whole situation that requires this in the first place. Bewildered that so many people are “back to normal” while this thing is still spreading, and in brutal honesty wishing I could be like them and just give up the fight myself. I’m not even mad at them. I WANT TO BE THEM. Why am I continually bothering to care and sanitize and mask and stay at home when no one else is? Literally no one would judge me in this state for it more than I’m already being judged (in most cases impersonally, though I felt the potential for it today in specific) for still watching the recommended guidelines.

I am really, really sick of this. I am so sick of feeling alone in this (of being alone in this, and Carol doesn’t count). Hearing other people saying “there there, you’re doing the right thing” honestly makes it even worse. I want people to stop patronizingly telling me to do things I already know are the right thing to do. I want other people as mad as I am that I can’t do the things I want to and need to do instead of being endlessly patient and noble about all the lives they’re saving by staying home. I’m top-of-my-head-blowing-off furious that so many people are shrugging and saying “well this is just the way it will be forever and alas, so it goes” and acting like those of us who did the right thing and cancelled our plans and our trips and our visits to dear friends but who are mad about having to do it are overreacting. I’m so fucking mad about it. I’ve stayed home for two months and I’ve isolated and I’ve quarantined and my hands are cracking from the constant sanitizer/washing at work and except for today I’ve done everything I’m supposed to do for this, and I don’t want to do it. And seeing people be so heroically virtuous and longsuffering on Facebook feels as alien and upsetting to me as the people who go to the beaches with a hundred of their closest friends.

That’s probably unfair in myriad ways. I’m really too angry, including at myelf, to soften it right now.

I want a vaccine and I want to be back in my classroom teaching to fifty faces instead of a screen in my living room, and I’m honestly freaking sick of waiting at home for them to figure this out. And watching everyone else move on with their lives back to the normal I would kill to have is just one more crack in the dike.

[thebraingremlinsaremad]

Daily Blog #2: August 9, 2021

I really don't have much to write about today; I suppose everything was pretty average.

I woke up at 7:00, accidentally passed out for 20 minutes, then woke back up and talked to my friends.

Had a fight with my mom as to why I actually need to get a shower in the morning and she doesn't, for I actually go to work and she stays at home all day, but she once again refused the idea that I should have any sort of shower priority.

I did end up getting a shower, brushed my hair, and put on my SHAPING UNDERWEAR!!! EEEEEEEE oh my FLUFF I love these things!!! It's so easy to feel confident in my sexy ass clothes that actually make me feel good.

I relaxed for a bit and talked to my partner because I didn't start work until later, 11:30 to be exact. I made breakfast at 10:45 and once again had a fight with my mom because she gets absolutely pissed off at me whenever I eat breakfast that late, despite the fact that I won't get home to eat dinner until 8:00PM and want to have my meals more evenly spread out so I won't be hungry all day.

It seems that no matter how hard you try, nor how good your reasons are, you can't defeat a narcissist with a "because I said so" attitude and a feeling of authority.

That's one thing: I don't give away respect. I don't believe my parents deserve my respect, and so they don't get any. Everyone else, including my teachers and boss, have always been nice to me and understanding, and so I'm nice and understanding in return, in addition to doing what they say. In fact, I'm automatically nice to people if I'm just meeting them; the only thing that will change that is if they show me that they're a bad person.

But yeah, work was fun, despite the fact that I was tired af all day lol. I basically just hung clothes, cleaned up, rotated stock, and helped customers.

I'd much rather be at work than be at home.

I got home and ate some pizza that was in the fridge and watched some Steven Universe. I then decided that I wanted to use the PlayStation 4, of which no one else was using and of which I had not touched in at least 5 months.

Here's a little backstory with that console:

We have absolute trash wifi range. Like, it doesn't reach more than 30 feet. So naturally, my brother wants to keep the PlayStation in the living room where not only does it bother everyone else if it's being used by one person, but, of course, the wifi doesn't reach. In addition to that, I've taken the time to buy and install a proper surround system in the room my brother and I share, and I have a 120hz 55" that I picked up and fixed myself. Not to mention the wifi actually reaches here and you can play games. But of course, my brother refuses to play it on anything other than the 40" in the living room for no reason other than he wants to.

And so, as my brother and mom get ready to use the TV to play Mario Kart on his Switch that my mom bought him, I go to grab the PS4, but I'm instantly told that I'm not allowed to use it unless it's in the living room.

"But I can't play anything out here; the wifi doesn't reach. Not to mention, you're using this TV."

"So wait until we're done and then play it."

"But I can't play it out here."

"Yes you can, the wifi reaches."

"No, it literally doesn't."

"Well then play it out here anyway"

"Why?"

"Because."

And of course, that exchange went on for a stupidly long amount of time until my mom pulled the "JORDAN" card and screamed for my dad, just like she always fucking does. I got fed up with it and just grabbed it anyway and brought it back to my lair (which is referring to the shared room with my brother where I keep all of the electronics and distractions that keep me sane) and turned it on, only to be met by a 45 minute mandatory update for the game.

What the hell is up with consoles today and needing huge updates almost every time you turn the thing on? Xbox 360 occasionally needed updates, but those took like a minute half the time. Stuff like the PS2, Xbox, and Wii never needed that. Can't there just be a plug and play console anymore? That would be absolutely great.

On another note, now that I've finished that rant, I guess, I'm probably gonna go shopping tomorrow even though I want to buy a new Laserdisc player. Then again, looking good and feeling good in my own skin are way more important to me than a good LD player, sooooo...

Anyway, I guess that's all I have to talk about. Thanks for letting me blab.

Be good people.

Thanks,

Leonna.