#anything more than 9" seems terrifying

[bandedbulbussnarfblat]

Quartet chapter 10

here it is. NSFW.

Daniel is starting to sweat.  He’s been here for fifteen minutes already, because he’d been so anxious he left the house early just to stop pacing the hall.  He’s been here since 8:30, and he knows Armand won’t be here until exactly 9:00.  He’s never late or early, he’s always exactly on time.  It’s one of his weird little quirks.  

He wonders if he should button up his shirt.  He has four of the buttons undone, which is more than he has since his twenties.  Not without another shirt underneath.  It makes him feel exposed.  Being exposed doesn’t bother him, except it will be under Armand’s gaze.  He doesn’t want to be found wanting.  

At least it’s quiet in here; in one of the private booths upstairs in the Azalea.  They were booths that had curtains built around them for privacy.  You could barely hear the music playing on the floor below.  Lily had led him up here to this booth as soon as he arrived and delivered him a Grasshopper.  It was Daniel’s favorite drink, but he never ordered it unless he was at a gay bar.  Daniel wonders if it’s some secret test, or if Armand just did it because he knew it was Daniel’s favorite.  

He drinks it all the same.  It’s gone by the time Armand slips inside the curtain and across from him, martini in hand.  His hair is slicked back and his eyes are lined with dark liner.  He’s wearing that white shirt and pants that Daniel likes.  Those pants that hug his ass and that shirt that he has open enough to be showing a tantalizing amount of chest.  

“Hey, boss,” Daniel says, a little breathless at seeing Armand in person again after so very long.  

The corner of Armand’s mouth tugs up a little.  “Hello, Daniel.”

“Fuck, it’s good to see you again,” It slips out of Daniel’s mouth before he can stop it.

Armand smiles.  “It’s good to see you too.”

Daniel remembers the last time they were here.  Armand had been out shopping with Bianca before meeting him.  (Daniel was so, so grateful he had someone else to take shopping.  Armand bought weird shit, like an air fryer that connected to the internet.)   It had been a windy day, and Armand’s lips had gotten chapped. So he borrowed Bianca’s chapstick.

It had left his lips tinted red and faintly shimmering.  Daniel had been unable to look away from his mouth; all he could think was how pretty it would look wrapped around his cock.  Armand practically read his thoughts, because after a few minutes, he had slid around to the other side of the booth and whispered in his ear to keep quiet.  Then he bent down and took Daniel into his mouth right there in the bar.  Daniel had to bite into the meat of his hand to keep quiet, and he came so hard that he saw stars.  

“How have you been?”  Daniel asks.  He wants to know everything, even the mundane details.  If it’s about Armand, it’s interesting to him.  

“I’m always fine, you know that, Daniel.”

“I know you pretend to be,” Daniel counters.  “But really, tell me about what you’ve been up to.  What’s changed?  What’s the same?”

Armand talks about the theater, about his latest fixations.  It had been planes for awhile; he actually has a pilot’s license now.  He offers to take Daniel flying sometime, which honestly seems terrifying, given the way he drives.  Daniel has been on the back on his motorcycle before, and Armand drives like traffic laws are mere suggestions.  

Once, Daniel had pointed out he broke at least four laws driving around the block.  Armand had said something about being able to afford the fines, and Daniel had remembered he was, at heart, a trust fund baby.  

They talk and they talk about anything that comes to mind. Work, current events, philosophy.  Before Daniel knows it, it’s been two hours and they still haven’t touched on their relationship.  So Daniel takes a breath and says “I wanted to talk about us.”

Armand goes silent.  Daniel doesn’t let it discourage him.  “I want you back.  However you’ll have me.  If that means being out in the open, then that’s what I’ll do.”

Armand’s gaze is careful.  “You’ll resent me for forcing you out before you’re ready.”

Daniel shakes his head.  “I gotta get out of the closet.  Any deeper and I’m in Narnia.”

It’s an uncomfortable thought, but he’s willing to go through with it if it means being with Armand.  And it isn’t like he doesn’t want to be able to be out in the open.  But he’s seen how homophobic the world can be; he doesn’t look forward to dealing with all that.

“And what do you expect?  For things to go exactly back as they were?”

“No, I don’t expect that,” Daniel says.  “But I’m willing to take it at your pace.”

Armand observes him for a moment and says “I’ll consider it.”

That’s halfway there already. 

/

Louis had offered to go to the Azalea tonight for moral support, but Armand had said it wasn’t necessary.  Louis hadn’t been sure if that was because he was still angry or not.  Armand could be hard to read when he wanted to be.  

He’d been mostly silent since last night, though Louis figured it’s in part due to nerves.  Still, he had followed him to the door and asked if they could talk when he got home.  Armand had said he didn’t know how late he would be back; Louis had said he’d wait up.  

He’s been replaying that conversation with Lestat in his head over and over.  Then remembering how Armand turned away from him.  He can’t even focus on his book.

Armand has only been gone around an hour when there’s a knock at the door.  There’s no way it could be Armand back already, even if things went poorly with Daniel he wouldn’t have time to go to the Azalea and make it back.  Louis doesn’t know who to expect when he opens the door.

It’s Lestat.

He’s wearing black skinny jeans and a black tee shirt and there’s dark liner around his eyes.  He must have been playing a gig somewhere earlier.  He looks good.  

Fuck, he looks good .

“What are you doing here?” Louis says after a second of stunned silence.  How did Lestat even find out where he lived?  Did Daniel tell him?  Surely not.  “How do you know where I live?”

“Louis,” Lestat says, like he hasn’t heard a word Louis has said.  He stares at the mark on Louis’ neck.  Lestat steps forward and stops himself.  “Can I come inside?”

“Hell no,” Louis says, and goes to shut the door in Lestat’s face.  

Lestat catches the door and squeezes his way inside.  “Just five minutes, Louis.”

Louis crosses his arms and glares at Lestat.  He’s well aware of how unintimidating he looks in his red cotton pajamas.  “What do you want?”

“You, Louis.  Always you.”

Louis scoffs.  “That’s not how I remember it.”

“I’ve made mistakes, but I’ve changed,” Lestat says.  “Let me show you that I’ve changed.”

The likelihood that Lestat has actually changed is slim.  Louis knows that.  But Lestat looks so earnest, he almost wants to believe him.  Almost.  “Did you forget I’m married?”

“He doesn’t love you like I do.”

Louis shakes his head.  “He loves me.”  

“Then why is he with Daniel now?  Why aren’t you enough?”

The words cut, but Louis doesn’t let it show.  “It ain’t like that.  You wouldn’t understand.”

Lestat laughs.  “I know you, cher.  You would never allow him if you really loved Armand.”

Louis crosses his arms and glares.  “I love him.”

Lestat’s eyes meet his.  “They way you loved me?”

Louis’s chest feels tight, like he can’t breathe.  He needs Lestat to go .  He tilts up his chin.  “More.”

“Liar,” Lestat says, and then he’s pressing Louis to the wall and suddenly he’s kissing him.

The entire world seems to shift on its axis.  Louis’ mouth opens against Lestat’s and his fingers wind in his hair to hold him close.  Lestat’s tongue slips in his mouth and Louis groans against him.  It’s been so long since he’s done this, it’s been eight years, and Lestat still kisses exactly the same.  Louis kisses him back frantically, and it’s like he’s a drowning man finding air.  He feels alive .

Lestat’s hands on his waist slip down to cup his bottom and Louis pulls back.  He pushes Lestat away from him.  “Get out.”

“Louis-”

“Lestat, go,” Louis says and points to the door.  His chest is heaving and he can barely breathe, still breathless from kissing Lestat.  “Just go.”

Lestat looks at him for a long moment, then nods.  “This isn’t over.”

Louis waits until he’s gone to collapse against the wall.  He thuds the back of his head against it and swears.

What the hell is he going to tell Armand?

/

Daniel had taken a cab to the Azalea, but Armand offers to give him a ride home.  It’s only an excuse to spend more time together, which Daniel gladly accepts.  All the way back, Armand’s legs are spread wide enough that his knee is touching Daniel and that single point of contact is driving him crazy.

They don’t talk about much on the way.  Halfway there, Armand’s hand comes to rest on his knee and his thumb strokes back and forth over his kneecap.  Daniel has never been so aware of another person’s touch.  His entire body throbs with desire.  He wants Armand more than he ever wanted heroin.  

The car stops in front of Daniel’s house.  Armand is out the door before Daniel can unhook his seatbelt.  He opens the door for Daniel and Daniel steps out.  Armand walks him to the door, easily falling into step beside him and letting their arms brush.  Daniel stops at the door and looks at him.  “You wanna have a cup of coffee or something?”  

Meaning did he want to come upstairs and absolutely fuck Daniel’s brains out.  From the amused smile, Armand gets what he means.  “No, Daniel.  Louis is expecting me.”

“Right,” Daniel says and his gaze falls to Armand’s mouth.  He wonders if it would be out of line to kiss him.  “Well, goodnight, Armand.”

Armand takes a step closer.  Daniel’s breath catches and his heart skips a beat.  Is Armand going to kiss him?  

Armand brings up his hand and strokes his thumb along Daniel’s jaw.  He bends down and Daniel wants him so badly; his eyes fall closed in anticipation.  Armand’s lips brush against his cheek.

“Goodnight, Daniel,” Armand says, and steps back.  He turns and heads back to the car, like he hasn’t just left Daniel yearning.  Daniel watches him slip inside his car and it drive away.  

Armand is considering taking him back.  All he has to do now is wait for him to come around.  Daniel can do that.  He’s already waited two years; what’s a bit more time?

/

Louis is by the door as soon as Armand comes in.  He seems more at ease now; he’s even smiling faintly.  Daniel never fails to improve his mood.  Well, except those times he was the reason for that mood.

“We gotta talk.”

Armand breezes past him towards their bedroom.  “Why?  So you can play at confession and be absolved of your sins?”

Louis follows behind him and clenches his jaw.  He isn’t going to get angry with Armand.  It’s pointless; and besides, he is the one who messed up.  He lied to Armand.  He probably owes him an explanation.  If he even wants one; Louis sure hadn’t given a damn about reasons when he found out about Antoinette.  But he’s not that bad; he isn’t.”

“It was Lestat I was talking to the other night,” Louis says, watching as Armand unbuttons his shirt.  He likely wants to go to bed, Louis knows he didn’t sleep well last night.  Neither did he.  “But you already knew that.”

Armand doesn’t look his way, just slides off his shirt and moves to taking off his pants and shoes.  “Yes, I came to that conclusion.”

Louis crosses his arms and hunches in on himself a little.  “I unblocked him and he texted me.  It was impulse to call him.”

“And why do you think you had that impulse, Louis?” Armand says, so, so mildly.  It’s frustrating as shit.  And Louis isn’t touching that question.  He doesn’t even want to think about it, much less explain it to Armand.

“That’s not all,” Louis says, as Armand pulls on a pair of navy blue pajama bottoms.  He leaves his chest bare.  It’s actually a bit distracting, because Lestat’s visit has him keyed up in more ways than one.  “He stopped by while you were out.”

Armand’s gaze finally swings over to him.  “Did he?”

Louis meets his gaze and blurts “He kissed me.”

Armand blinks.  “He kissed you?”

“Yeah.”

Armand takes a step closer to him and Louis feels a chill go down his spine.  “Did he force himself on you?”

“He didn’t stop and ask for permission, if that’s what you mean,” Louis says, and he feels his face getting warm.  

���So you didn’t kiss him back?”

Louis clears his throat and looks away for a moment.  “I didn’t tell him to stop.”

Another step.  “That isn’t what I asked, Louis.”

Louis’s breath quickens.  There’s something volatile brewing in the air between him and Armand, and he isn’t sure if it’s a fight or a fuck.  “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

“Armand-”

“I’d like to hear you say it.”

Louis lets his arms fall to his sides and takes a breath.  “I’m sorry I kissed Lestat.  Armand, I-”

“What else did you do with him?”

“Just kissing, I swear,” Louis says.  He closes the space between them, standing less than a foot apart now.  He reaches for Armand’s and Armand gently but firmly pushes his hand away.

Louis lets his hand drop.  “I’m sorry; it was a mistake.”

He sounds like fucking Lestat trying to apologize for Antoinette.  He hates himself.  

“A mistake?”

Louis nods.  “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

Armand’s head tilts to the side.  “You aren’t going to plead for forgiveness?  Assure me it meant nothing?”

“That what you want?”

Armand’s hand comes up to wrap under Louis’ jaw and tilt up his head.  “No, Louis; that isn’t what I want.”

Louis feels his dick stir.  He doesn’t know if he should let himself cave in to the feeling or not.  Sometimes Armand played psychosexual games.  He’s kinky like that; he’s kinky in a lot of ways.  Louis didn’t even know about some of them until they got together.  

“What do you want?”

Armand looks into his eyes.  “Do you plan to kiss him again?”

“Hell no,” Louis says.  He means it, too.  He is done with Lestat.  

“Good,” Armand says, “because you’re mine.”

Then he kisses Louis, deep and filthy and his hand slides inside his pants and rubs over his cock.  Louis kisses him back, letting himself mindlessly follow Armand’s lead.  A sense of calm washes over him and he clutches at Armand’s chest.  Armand pulls back from the kiss with a harsh bite to his lower lip.  The slight jab of pain sends a jolt to his dick.  

“I don’t like how you said that; like I’m your property or something,”  Louis has said something similar to Lestat before.  Figures that his type would be possessive bastards.  

Armand’s mouth moves over his neck and he bites that tender spot where shoulder meets neck.  His hand speeds up on Louis cock. Louis moans.  

“It sounds like you like it just fine,” Armand says.  He uses his grip on Louis' jaw to direct him to the bed, and flings him back onto it.  “On your stomach, hands behind your back.  Naked.”

Louis does as Armand says.  Armand pulls the handcuffs out of the nightstand and clamps them on Louis, keeping his hands tight together.  Next comes out the trunk kept under the bed.  Armand opens it and quickly looks through their wide assortment of toys.  He selects a dark colored wooden cane and puts the trunk away.  

He does it slowly enough for Louis to object if he wants too.  Louis doesn’t; his cock is throbbing at the thought of Armand cracking blows with that cane.  It hurts, yes, but the pain is like permission to feel the pleasure, a release of sorts.  He’d explained it once to Daniel who understood perfectly.  He thinks Armand must understand too; he’s good at hurting him in just the way he needs to let go.  

The cane whips down on the bed next to Louis’ thigh.  “Get up on your knees, face down.”

Louis does, and spreads his knees open wide.  He wants to be ready for the part where Armand fucks him after.  If that part is coming.  Armand could decide to leave him hanging as punishment.  

The cane whacks across the back of Louis’ right thigh.  It isn’t hard enough to hurt, just to get his attention.  “Ten blows.  Count them out.”

Louis nods his head.  

The cane comes down again, harder this time.  It hits in the exact same spot and it stings, bright and hot.  “One.”

Armand slides the bottom of the cane over his crack, then deals a wicked strike to his left cheek.  “Two,” Louis says, starting to sweat.

Blow three is less precise, hitting both cheeks.  It’s hard enough to shift Louis up the bed a little.  It hurts enough that he cries out in pain, then moans in pleasure.  “Three.”

Four and five are quick blows over the back of his left thigh.  Louis counts them out with gritted teeth.  His cock is throbbing and aching.  The sixth strike hits along his right inner thigh and Louis gasps out at the hurt.  “Six.”

Seven is the left inner thigh, slightly higher up than the blow on the right.  It hurts exquisitely and Louis’ voice is shaky when he counts it.  Nine is another resounding blow over both cheeks and tears wet Louis' eyes.  “N-nine.”

The bottom of the cane rubs over his hole and slightly pushes in.  Louis spreads his legs wider, so turned on all he can think is he wants something inside him.  Armand draws it back and cracks the last blow over his hole.  The tears fall from Louis’ eyes and he thrusts his hips forward into nothing, his cock desperate for friction.  

“Louis,”

“Ten, ten,” Louis pants.  

He closes his eyes to take a second, and the next thing he knows there are slick fingers pushing inside him.  The preparation perfunctory, then Armand is sinking inside him.  It hurts, to have him pressed up against his sore bottom and thighs, but it’s a good hurt.  Armand pulls back and slams back into him.  He grips the chain on the cuffs and uses it to yank Louis back onto his cock while he slams his hips forward.  

Louis’ balance slips and his knees slip just a bit further apart.  He didn’t think he could spread them any wider, and it burns his thighs to do so now.  But Armand is hitting him deeper, and just battering his prostate.  It feels so good.  With his hands bound, all he can do is take it.  

He moans and drools into the mattress.  Every slap of Armand’s body against his sends a fresh wave of pain, not strong, but constant.  The hand on Louis’ hip is gripping tight enough to bruise, and it’s a grounding sort of pain.  Armand slams into him, again and again and Louis can only pant his name.  “Armand, Armand, give me your hand.”

Sometimes when they fuck, Armand won’t let him come.  He’ll make Louis wait until he finishes, then he’ll turn Louis over and blow him until he’s begging.  Louis hopes that isn’t what he’s doing now.  He needs to come.  He needs Armand to touch him.  

“No,” Armand says.  “You’ll come like this or not at all.”

Armand twists his grip and yanks Louis so he’s up on his knees with his back to Armand’s chest.  Or as close as it can be, with his arms in this position.  It makes Armand’s cock sink impossibly deeper and Louis groans.  Armand bites and sucks at his neck, along the shells of his ear.  

Louis turns his head and tries to kiss Armand.  He pulls back and Louis feels a hot curl of embarrassment at the rejection.  “Armand, honey, don’t be mean.”

Louis rarely used pet names.  But they can be employed strategically against Armand.  Armand captures his lips and kisses him.  It’s messy and sloppy, and so fucking hot.  His cock drives into him and Louis feels so full, he’s stuffed and it’s amazing.  “Oh god, oh god.”

Armand quickens the pace and Louis nearly cries.  He’s so close.  God, he wishes Armand would touch him.  He probably would, if Louis begged for it.  But Louis' pride doesn’t always let him do so.  Not today.  “Honey, please.  Please.”

Armand’s hand finds his cock and wraps around it.  Louis almost sobs with relief.  It only takes a few strokes and Louis is spilling over his hand, his orgasm hitting him so hard that he shakes.  His toes curl and his vision goes blurry.  Armand slams into him a final time and comes buried deep inside him.  

Louis’ knees feel weak and he falls forward and clutches the pillow.  Armand pulls out of him and Louis can feel his come sliding down his thigh.  It’s disgusting, but he couldn’t make his legs work right now if the room was on fire.  Usually, after they do something like this, Armand will clean him up and cuddle with him after.  Especially if it’s one of those times when things get all floaty and loose.  

Armand puts on his pajamas while Louis melts into the mattress.  His ass is sore, and his thighs.  They have cream to rub over the welts.  Armand usually puts it on him after they do something that leaves marks.  He sort of expects Armand to do it now, because Armand always takes care of him after he’s rough with him.  

His arms are aching as well.  Armand uncuffs him, but he doesn’t run over his wrists like normally.   Instead, Armand puts away the handcuffs and plucks his ipad off his nightstand.  “I’m spending the night in the guest room tonight.”

Louis’ stomach drops and his good mood vanishes.  “Armand, I-”

“I will forgive you,” Armand cuts in.  “But tonight I need to be alone.”

With that, he’s out the door and Louis is all alone.

[thepointoftheneedle]

Silly Season Six Speculation

Spoilers for "The Village"

I mentioned to @sullypants that I'd been speculating about Season 6 and M Night Shyamalan’s film “The Village." Below the line is said foolishness.

The movie is set in an isolated agrarian community in a non specific, idealised past. At the end of the movie it is revealed that the elders have self isolated in both time and space to protect themselves and those they love from the violence and trauma they experienced in late twentieth century America. It’s a pretty shaky premise and Shyamalan goes overboard on trying to build a cohesive plot out of this nonsense without too much success but it was photographed by the great Roger Deakins so it is worth watching for the beauty of the cinematography alone.

The long shadow of 9/11 is cast over The Village (released 2004) as with so many movies and books back then. The film explores the temptation to retreat from a world which seems terrifying and arbitrary into nostalgia, a simpler time, before the chaos. The pandemic forced us to change in a similar way, we had to retreat into isolation to keep ourselves and our loved ones safe. Now we are challenged to rejoin a world which still isn’t safe, to balance risks, to exchange some of our security for new, scary experiences.

If you wanted nostalgia you’d be hard pressed to find anything that hits the mark more precisely for some people than the world of the Archie comics. So how about if the burning of Pop’s is the final straw for some of our Riverdalians? Maybe they want to begin again with a clean slate, abandon those features of the real world that have endangered and bereaved them and rebuild a separate bygone era, keep out the monsters.

In The Village in order to maintain their isolation the community leaders have to fabricate monsters to keep people from exploring beyond their safe home, unfortunately eventually the monsters become real, bringing the violence they sought to escape into the village. Our reincarnated Blossom “witch” could try to convince her community that there’s something even more nasty in the woodshed to keep them from venturing into danger. (Starkweather? Why not go the whole hog and call them the Starkadders?). There could be animals eviscerated by some dangerous monster "out there" that means that everyone must stay close to home where they can be protected.

Maybe not all “Rivervalians” are as committed to the project of isolation. That could set up conflicts that would reset alliances.

In the end the community in The Village comes to accept that isolation cannot be maintained, that some risk is part of being alive and that the dangers that they ran from came with them to their new lives. Maybe the five eps could see the Rivervale project reach a similar conclusion and have the alliances shift again.

This does not explain why everyone had to be dressed by Reformation or why there is a MAYpole at harvest time but...

[schrijverr]

I Wrote My Own Deliverance

Chapter 9 out of 10

Alexander Hamilton is reborn as Alex Hambleton. He is desperate not to make the same mistakes twice, but it seems he is stuck in the narrative, unable to get out. Familiar faces pop up all around him as he attempts to keep his previous life a secret and write himself out of the story.

On AO3.

Ships: Alex/John/Eliza preslash implied

Warnings: none, but tell me if I missed anything or if you want me to tag something!!!

~~~~~~~~~~

Alex had attempted to sleep his misery away. He had hoped to wake up when it was all over and he could pretend he had not just done that again.

Overwhelm them with honesty always felt like a great option, until you had spread the word and were waiting for the reactions.

However, no such luck was in store for Alex when he awoke to the sound of someone banging loudly on his door. It took a moment for the yelling to register, but he quickly identified it as Angelica when she yelled: “Alexander open this door right now, because I will not hesitate to kick it in.”

He jumped out of bed and called something out to her as he stumbled over, blanket hanging over his shoulders, his hair still a mess from running his hands through it all night, bags under his eyes and a weight on the slump of his shoulders.

When he opened the door, he was met with more people than just Angelica. Behind her stood Eliza, Herc, Lafayette and John, all with crossed arms and stern expressions on their faces.

If they expected him to react the same as before, they were sorely mistaken. He was tired and emotionally drained and he did not have the energy to create an aloof mask. So when he saw them all standing there, he did what any sane person would have done and broke down into tears as he sank to the floor.

Immediately the lecture they had in store for him was forgotten as they sank down to wrap him up in a hug as he sobbed a thousand apologies into their clothes.

After a while Angelica took control of the situation and managed to usher them into the dorm, before they attracted too much attention. She also situated Alex onto his bed, pressed tightly between his friends, with Eliza and John on both sides and Herc and Lafayette next to them, while Angie set to make some tea.

“I’m so sorry for not telling you all.” Alex said, wiping away his tears after he had finally gotten his breathing under control.

“Hey, it’s okay, Alexander, it’s all okay.” Eliza petted his hair, but it just made more tears fall out of his eyes.

“No, no, it’s not,” he protested, voice still broken, “I fucked up again, I made you all sad by ignoring you and it was all for nothing anyway, I still messed up and I’m probably going to stay a fuck up for the rest of my life even when I try so so hard, it’s just never enough.”

“Alex, stop that.” John told him, he realized that kindness was perhaps good, but not if they couldn't snap him out of it.

“Stop what?”

“Stop beating yourself up over trying to be a better person and succeeding.” he answered, taking pride in the fact that he had reduced Alexander ‘A-Hundred-Words-Per-Minute’ Hamilton to silent gaping imitation of a fish on dry land.

When he finally managed to gather his words, he softly whispered: “Succeeded?”

At that point Angelica came back and pushed a warm mug in his hand as she counted on her fingers: “Didn’t cheat, didn’t ruin someone else’s life in an attempt to save your reputation and tried to do what was best for your friends even if the conclusion on how to do that was wrong. You already ‘changed the story’, as you put it.”

“But what if it wasn’t enough?” he asked, “What if no one believes me and Washington gets fired and he hates me and then I never get to see him or Mama M again and you all still have to yell at me for being a shit friend, which is true, and I am left alone and-”

“Alex, I love you, but please shut up before you talk yourself into a panic attack.” Eliza cut off his ramblings.

It seemed that it was enough for Alex to completely shut down and he just stared into another dimension, face riddled with shock and disbelief.

“If zat is truly the worst thing you can come up with then rest assured, mon petit lion, I can - how you say - ah, repel these thoughts.” Laf offered, “If no one believes you, you can actually prove you are Alexander Hamilton by registering.”

“Yeah, and Washington fucking loves you dude, so be chill on that front.” Laurens added, “Same goes for Martha, if she’s still the same.”

“And we will yell at you, but we’re not going to ditch you.” Angelica finished.

“Are you sure?” Alex asked.

Both John and Eliza pull him in for a hug as they whispered: “Of course we’re sure.” “We missed you.”

“Sorry I never said I remembered.” Alex apologized again.

“Well, one pro of being a chronic over-sharer with the world at large is that you don’t really have to explain.” Herc was teasing him, that was Hercs teasing voice and Alex had never been more happy that he was being made fun of.

The sound from his throat was a mix between a sob and a laugh as he confessed: “I missed all of you so much, it literally hurt to not say anything.”

“We believe you.” Eliza told him and both she and Laurens hugged him tightly.

They formed a cuddle pile and started up the The Fellowship of the Ring while Alex was busy being overwhelmed by what his life was right now.

When the fellowship had just arrived in Moria, Alex cleared his throat and said: “I think I’m ready for the yelling now.”

“Alright, if you say so.” Angelica warned him before getting up and taking a deep breath: “How dare you give in to your big ego and throw away your life in a duel when you wife and living children needed you. How dare you leave us all behind for honor when we needed you, you dumb fuck.”

“It was a dick move to not tell me who you were when I found you again, Alex.” John did not give him a moment to react, “I missed you so fucking much and then you pull that shit, break my heart all over again.”

“While I understand and forgive you, it was, as John eloquently phrased it, a dick move to not come to my aid in France.” Lafayette told him and Alex shrunk under his gaze.

Eliza took over: “It was difficult when you left me with the children and it took a long time to forgive you and it hurt even more to see you without you knowing me. And knowing in hindsight that you did, does not make it any better.”

Alex was ready for the ground to swallow him and he wanted to nothing more then for this to be over as he turned to Herc, who shrugged: “It sucked that you didn’t come around more? I don’t know, dude, I don’t have that much beef with you. Except that I had to deal with these two dramatic assholes without you.”

The two assholes in question both let out an indignant ‘Hey!’ as Alex snorted, already calming down a bit.

It was quiet for a few more seconds then Alex said: “Can I talk now? I know I’ve already written everything down for the world to see and all that, but I have been thinking for years about what to say if I had the chance, so…”

John grinned and said: “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d love a Hamilton speech right now. Do your worst.”

“I resent that.” he fired back, before turning to Herc, he wasn’t ready to face Eliza yet, “Sorry, I allowed myself to get swept up in the world of politics so much that I did not make time to see you. It was both snobby and shitty and you deserved better than that.”

Herc gave him some finger guns, which settled his nerves slightly.

Then he moved to Lafayette: “I want to say sorry for never coming for you. I know that politically it was the right decision, but I should have come for you anyway. I promised and then I left you. Even if I argued for neutrality against France, I could have taken a break to save you for personal reasons and the fact that I didn’t speaks of my asshole-ness.”

Lafayette gave him a tight smile and forgiving eyes, but he didn’t say a word. Alex couldn’t tell if it was because the other had realized that if Alex were interrupted he might be unable to start again or because Laf did not have the words to reply.

He turned to Angelica: “I have attempted many times to figure out what to say to you, but I never really know. You were the sister I never had, the support system I shouldn’t have taken for granted, yet I did. I can never repay you for being there for Betsy. So, thank you.”

She patted his shoulder and smiled encouragingly. As much as she could let her temper run wild, she could always be the rock he needed and he was so very grateful for her.

Then he found himself face to face with John. For all the speeches he had written for Laurens, when actually faced with the man, he grasped at straws.

“My dear Laurens,” what other way to start was there? “I cannot begin to express how all my words left me when I saw you alive once more. It pained me that I could not be there when you died and that our promise to see the war through together could not be fulfilled.”

He was reverting back to his older form of speech, but he was hardly noticing it: “We have left so much unsaid between us that breaking the silence seems terrifying, yet I hope that one day you can forgive me for not immediately sharing the delight of finding you in this life.”

“I cannot say how this life we’re making for ourselves will pan out.” he added, “The world is different and I cannot yet say if our stories will be, but I hope we can build upon a relation passed and see where the road takes us.”

Laurens took his hand a squeezed it. There were tears in both their eyes and neither said a word as they stayed liked that for a second, before Alex cleared his throat and turned to the last person in the room.

He had written so much for Eliza, but the only thing he could bring himself to say was an apology: “I know I can never apologize enough for all that I did to you, but I want you to know how incredibly sorry I am and how aware I am that I can never truly apologize for everything I have done.”

“It’s okay.” she said, sweet smile on her face, “It wasn’t for a long time, but you are not him anymore and you are still a good man. Finding out you’re poly did explain a lot.”

“Just because I’m poly doesn’t mean cheating is okay, not to mention telling the whole world about it.” Alex interjected, stereotypes were shit, “Being poly is also about communicating, which is every relationship to be honest.”

“I know, dear.” she cut off his verbal essay before it could begin, “What I meant is that it explained how you still looked at me like I was the world, even after everything. And how your eyes would sparkle when you talked about John, while still having the same look for me.”

“Oh.” sometimes he wondered why he was known as eloquent.

She smiled and repeated: “Yeah, oh.”

Herc piped up: “She and John started the POHC after the party. It was kinda sad, but also kinda sweet. We mostly avoided them.”

“Shut up, Herc.” John hissed, blush on his features, while Alex asked: “POHC?”

“Pine Over Hamilton Club.” Herc grinned, it seemed his spying tendencies had turned into a need for gossip.

“Not the point.” Eliza interrupted, also blushing, “We’ll talk about it later, for now, lets focus on the situation at hand. Did Washington know you were going to do this?”

“Yeah,” Alex snorted, “I’m not doing that without consent two times. I’m an idiot, but I’m not stupid, you know. Mama M wanted to push for a lawsuit, but telling someone you will sue them if they breathe a word is about the same as telling them they’re right.”

“That sucks, mon ami.” Lafayette said.

“Tell me about it.” Alex smiled back, “Though we’re still considering pushing a lawsuit when we have the board on our side. I don’t want to dive into it without being registered.”

“You’re going to register?” Angelica asked.

“I have to, Angie.” Alex said, “If I get called for the board then I have proof, and I know they will call on me to explain, so better get it over with. The only reason I haven’t yet is because I didn’t want to do it without asking you guys.”

“Why?”

“Because if I am verified, then Washington will have to be verified and then everyone will look at the two ‘Great Founding Fathers of the United Sates of America’ and by extension everyone near them with a name resembling someone they knew.” Alex explained, “Of course you can avoid it by not being friends with me again, which I totally get and I don’t blame you if you don’t want to be associated with me.”

“Oh non, Alex, I will never let mon petit frére go.” Lafayette hugged him tightly and it was good to be in the mans arms again. He had missed his brother in all but blood.

“Yeah, not cool that you think we’ll drop you again.” Herc scolded him playfully, “We’re cooler than that.”

“I can handle them if they come after me.” Angelica said fiercely.

“And I do not doubt that.” Alex told her, “You are terrifying and I want to be on your good side for the rest of my life, but maybe take some time to think about it.”

She glanced at him and smirked: “I never thought I’d see the day when Alexander Hamilton tells me to pause and think like he was Aa- Oh my god, you have been roommates with Aaron Burr for over a year!”

[happyk44]

1-100 all

ONE HUNDRED FUCKING QUESTIONS

1.. what is you middle name?

Marie.

2. how old are you?

A number.

3. what is your birthday?

April 25th

4. what is your zodiac sign?

Taurus.

5. what is your favorite color?

BLUE.

6. what’s your lucky number?

Fuck, I don’t have my sheet in front of me rn but I’m confident there’s a 3 somewhere among it.

7. do you have any pets?

3 cats: Turbo (mine), Olive (my sister), Daisy (mom and dad)

8. where are you from?

BERMUDA.

9. how tall are you?

5 foot 2 and a quarter

10. what shoe size are you?

8 ½

11. how many pairs of shoes do you own?

Currently?? 3. Sneakers, slip-ons (which I don’t wear now that the ground is wet all the time) and boots.

12. what was your last dream about?

Idk.

13. what talents do you have?

Idk again. Writing seems to be up there.

14. are you psychic in any way?

No.

15. favorite song?

Changes all the time but currently? Way Down Hadestown, Rewrite the Stars, This Is Me, The Greatest Show, Epic (Part 3), Chant, Riptide, Take Me to Church.

16. favorite movie?

Power Rangers

17. who would be your ideal partner?

Uh, idk. Someone who likes to cuddle, doesn’t mind being affectionate but can give space when needed and doesn’t let me fall back on my own shit. Someone who can make me smile just by thinking about them. Someone who I can talk to about the stuff I enjoy and who will talk about the stuff they like, even if they’re not common interests.

18. do you want children?

Not really.

19. do you want a church wedding?

No.

20. are you religious?

No, but my dad wishes (and probably thinks) I am.

21. have you ever been to the hospital?

YEP! Gotta love asthma attacks and chronic sickness :P

Also occassional visits to my papa (rip) when my granny would go on vacation and placed him in the hospital’s care for brief times because of his dementia.

22. have you ever got in trouble with the law?

Nope.

23. have you ever met any celebrities?

None that I’m aware of.

24. baths or showers?

Showers.

25. what color socks are you wearing?

Black.

26. have you ever been famous?

Nope.

27. would you like to be a big celebrity?

Mmm, not really. All that attention seems terrifying. But like, if I could be, celebrity enough that I’m well-known among people and get good wages doing whatever, then yes.

28. what type of music do you like?

All kinds. I have aversions to stuff that picks at my ears wrong or makes my heart beat too fast, though, so a lot of hard metal and soca wind up being out.

29. have you ever been skinny dipping?

Yes. I was a toddler. Clothing means nothing when you’re a baby and live in a hot-ass humid climate.

30. how many pillows do you sleep with?

3

31. what position do you usually sleep in?

On my side or on my stomach. I’ve been trying to sleep on my back lately though.

32. how big is your house?

Small.

33. what do you typically have for breakfast?

Cereal.

34. have you ever fired a gun?

To my knowledge, yes.

35. have you ever tried archery?

Yes.

36. favorite clean word?

Shiz :D

37. favorite swear word?

Fuck.

38. what’s the longest you’ve ever gone without sleep?

29ish hours? I stayed up one day to chat with a person who lived in Australia, wound up having to go to the store with my mom around 8 to get school clothes and crashed when we got back home about noon/one o’clock.

Though this month should raise that up higher given I have to be up for my exams starting at 9, stay up to catch my early morning flight the next day and stay up to catch my transfer flight and then keep staying up so I don’t crash through dinner and wake up at like one in the morning, like someone with jet lag. (Bermuda and Halifax are literally in the same time zone, I cannot do this to myself)

39. do you have any scars?

Yes. It stretches shortly on my forearm. I got it from an iron burn when I was about 12, I think?

40. have you ever had a secret admirer?

I think so?? If that’s what you’d call whoever keeps sending me those really sweet anons. :D

41. are you a good liar?

Sometimes.

42. are you a good judge of character?

I’d like to think so.

43. can you do any other accents other than your own?

I can do a semi-decent Irish/Scottish accent from my years of obsessively watching Ronan Inish and a thicker, more prominent Bermudian accent, like what my granny or teachers would have.

44. do you have a strong accent?

I don’t personally think I have an accent. My mom is deaf, my dad is American and the kids and family I grew up around never really used the thick version of a Bermudian accent. 

45. what is your favorite accent?

I don’t know. I don’t think I have one? Mostly other accents are just the way people talk and if anything,  just amuse me. Like for example, my friend’s Bahamian accent kills me, especially when she starts chatting with her friends from Nassau and their accents start rolling out super thick to the point where you gotta really pay attention to zero in on their words.

But, in Bermuda you’re taught by literally anyone so accents are just?? a thing that exist. I don’t have a favourite.

46. what is your personality type?

MBTI wise, a split between INTJ & INTP. Other types? IDK.

47. what is your most expensive piece of clothing?

PFT, prolly my shoes? I don’t really buy clothes. Though if my cousin’s coat no longer fits by the time the cold really hits and I need to use it, it’ll probably be a winter coat.

48. can you curl your tongue?

Yes.

49. are you an innie or an outie?

Innie

50. left or right handed?

Right handed.

51. are you scared of spiders?

Small spiders? No.

Giant spiders? Yes.

Weird looking spiders? Only if they’re too close to me.

52. favorite food?

Pineapple pizza. Apple spice cake too, I guess??

53. favorite foreign food?

Chinese, please and thank you, hit me up with that sweet and sour chicken.

54. are you a clean or messy person?

I try to be clean but depression and lack of energy makes it difficult. But I keep myself as organized as I possibly can and use procrastination to keep stuff as well-put as I can.

55. most used phrased?

I don’t even know.

56. most used word?

I also do not know.

57. how long does it take for you to get ready?

Pft, 7 to 15 minutes to shower on average (depends on if I’m washing my hair or not), fives minutes for face and teeth, five minutes to dress and like three hours to actually get up to get ready. :P

58. do you have much of an ego?

I try very hard not to.

59. do you suck or bite lollipops?

Suck.

60. do you talk to yourself?

I used to when I was younger. Still do sometimes.

61. do you sing to yourself?

I used to and then I realized that a) my self-improvised songs are terrible and b) I can’t sing.

62. are you a good singer?

My mom is deaf. My dad has hearing difficulties. My papa’s singing voice is a wail and my granny’s is shrill sadness.

I was not born into this world a lucky man.

63. biggest fear?

Demon clowns. Dying alone. Being alone forever. Not getting to say the things I want to say to people. That I’ll crash and burn before I graduate or sometime soon after.

64. are you a gossip?

No.

65. best dramatic movie you’ve seen?

I dunno. The most dramatic movies I can remember tend to be war films based on true stories and I normally check out during that kind of stuff because thinking about the horrors of history and the fact that people suffered and died at the hands of people who still objectively exists freaks me out, sends me into a pit of misery until I combust within myself.

66. do you like long or short hair?

No preference for other people, short hair preference for myself. Currently, I’m growing it out so my friend can braid it then I’m gonna chop it back off when I get home in May.

67. can you name all 50 states of america?

If an American can’t do that, then what makes you think me, a Bermudian who’s only concern with the US is how it will affect me and my country and literally was over-relieved when I got dropped from a US history class, would ever know that.

Case in point, I spent most of my childhood assuming New Jersey was a city and only found out it wasn’t last year.

68. favorite school subject?

Accounting.

69. extrovert or introvert?

Introvert.

70. have you ever been scuba diving?

No.

71. what makes you nervous?

Life.

72. are you scared of the dark?

Depends.

73. do you correct people when they make mistakes?

Sometimes. It really depends on the person and the situation.

74. are you ticklish?

Yes.

75. have you ever started a rumor?

No.

76. have you ever been in a position of authority?

No.

77. have you ever drank underage?

Unfortunately, I have? but not anything serious. Just a few sips I didn’t want to take three times throughout my life.

78. have you ever done drugs?

Aside from my prescribed and despite my friends’ best efforts, no.

79. who was your first real crush?

Vanessa Hudgens and whoever that boy who played Freddie from iCarly was.

80. how many piercings do you have?

None.

81. can you roll your rs?“

Yes!

82. how fast can you type?

Who knows??

83. how fast can you run?

I can’t.

84. what color is your hair?

Dark brown with a bunch of purple & pink in it.

85. what color is your eyes?

Brown.

86. what are you allergic to?

Severely allergic to dust mites and extremely irritated by pollen and highly perfumed scents. Which, as far as I’m concerned, means I’m allergic to the damn air.

87. do you keep a journal?

Used to. Don’t anymore.

88. what do your parents do?

My dad is an electrician. He does freelance work for people building houses on-island and my mom is a records management administrator at my bank.

89. do you like your age?

I guess?

90. what makes you angry?

Lots of things. I’m very prone to anger. It’s why the Hulk/Bruce Banner was my favourite superhero as a kid and still is.

91. do you like your own name?

Yes! I do actually really like my name, which sucks because sometimes I get upset or uncomfortable when people refer to me by it and why I like it when people call me Jay, but otherwise my birth name is just beautiful and I don’t think I’d ever be able to give it up.

That being said, I super love the name Jay and when I finally move out of my house and away from Bermuda, I want to try using it more socially rather than just online.

92. have you already thought of baby names, and if so what are they?

I don’t want babies.

93. do you want a boy a girl for a child?

Neither. I want another cat.

94. what are you strengths?

I write well, I can speak well and my pale as fuck skin doesn’t let people realize I’m mixed race so, like my friends point out, I get to skirt around the world, practically invisible and I like to work.

95. what are your weaknesses?

Procrastination, tendency to misery over small mistakes, tendency to blow up small things into large problems, tendency to feel abandoned by people who are not abandoning me, inability to properly fall asleep when I feel a lack of affection and touch in my life, inability to listen to people when they ramble on about things I don’t care about, inability to be upfront with how I feel towards my friends and how I feel they’re treating me, etc, etc, etc.

96. how did you get your name?

With my birthname, my mom picked it out from a book, I think?

With my preferred name,I was reading a book about a trans man called “I Am J” and when I got prompted about my name by a friend online, the name just popped into my head, felt immediately right and I used it and connected to it right away.

97. were your ancestors royalty?

I mean I doubt it but I WILL NEVER KNOW.

My mom is black! My dad is adopted! HOWEVER, FINDING OUT ANY ANYTHING ABOUT HER ANCESTRY IS MY MOM’S NUMBER ONE GOAL AND BELIEVE ME, ONCE SHE LEARNS THAT, I WILL LET Y’ALL KNOW.

98. do you have any scars?

Hasn’t this already been asked?

99. color of your bedspread?

Blue and white.

100. color of your room?

Dull green.

[gendermesenpai-blog]

8:50 pm

Okay, Firefox just fucking crashed and I lost like 3000 words that I just wrote. Fuck I am angry now. I was already having a shitty day and I am angry now.

I am going to angrily try to write what I remember from the post I was working on just now. Holy fuck this is frustrating and it makes me want to just go to bed and not even post anything. This shit is too much effort fuck

OK.

First of all, my medication costs almost nothing now. My prescription doubled this month and I am paying $2. Turns out there is actually pretty decent public healthcare here in this state.

This morning started normal enough, it was my first day on the new doseages and I am using an app now called Medisafe to track my schedule. This is because I was already missing doses before and now I have 3 a day. I went to work and they told us we were going to be doing more zipcodes. These are jobs we have been doing recently involving photographing properties where the owner owes money to the city. Our clients are interested in purchasing this debt. I don’t like it. It’s unethical, it makes me feel unsafe. I am a trans woman, I should not be running around in random neighborhoods putting a target on my back doing these zipcode jobs. And yet I am the one who has to map everything because no one else in the company knows how to use the internet and shit. I have done hundreds of these houses, they keep telling me to do it because I’m good at it. It feels like being punished. Oh, good job with these pictures, here’s a bunch more. I am getting into altercations with people, with drivers. I got chased off one block by a car today. I only got away because I can bunny hop speed bumps, he would have destroyed his car trying to follow me at that speed.

Anyway, I don’t like it. I had to change a flat out there today. I went to a church and changed it on the steps. I felt like that was the best I could do for my safety. I explained how I felt about this better in the post that Firefox crashed and destroyed. But anyway it sucks. At least there was another courier from my company doing a nearby section of houses and we rode out there together, met back up and smoked etc. Rode back together. I like him, he’s cool. Maybe I have a little crush or whatever. Nothing can be done. He’s not queer at all and I’ll probably never pass to any of these people because they know me too well in the male persona. Maybe I’ll look back at that and laugh one day when I have less beard shadow.

Anyway, rode back, they had pizza for us. I ate a lot. I could’ve eaten more. Haven’t been eating much lately because of money problems. I’ve gotten called in my last 2 off days. The last 2 Tuesdays. So no Uber except when I can sneak in a run or two, or after my regular shift when I’m already beat, or on weekends. Uber sucks anyway, I keep handing people bags of spilled shit. There is nothing special or weird about my bag. I have to imagine this is just what happens to every courier who uses a backpack to transport food. Things spill occasionally. Sometimes it’s like every fucking day though. I had to clean so much Tika Masala sauce out of my bag the other day. I’m about to just start carrying all food bags in my hand. I can control my speed with one hand on the bars now, either bar, no braking whatsoever except my legs. I can control my speed to a limited extent with no hands. Just noticed that one recently, it was something I suddenly learned, having gained awareness of by doing it.

OK but anyway, so I’m already pissed off from the zipcode shit, and they send me out to a drop near my house, so I hit my house, smoke, then cut down to the coffee place to take some coffee to go downtown. A week ago or a couple weeks ago or something, one of our drivers got into an altercation with a woman who works at this coffee place and happens to be a trans person of color. Apparently, something he said set her off and she shut down the shop, saying something about “fuck white people.” I think this is awesome. Everyone at my company thinks it is ridiculous and keep talking about her in a demeaning way. So I have already heard this story multiple times, and every time it’s told, even by our female dispatcher, it is always “trans woman.” They say it every single time, never just woman, never woman of color. Always “this trans woman at the coffee place.” But anyway, I hadn’t heard the driver himself talking about until today, and he managed to piss me off so quick, holy shit. He was basically asking who did the coffee run today, does *SHE* still work there, and he said she super sarcastically or like in an intentionally derogatory or insincere way. Of course, I did the coffee run, but I have no interest in talking about the fact that I saw the woman there, waved, and she didn’t acknowledge me, because that would just support their narrative about this crazy *trans* woman who hates white people and has it out for our tiny random delivery company. Also, right before he walked in and started talking about this, we had been trying to smoke a blunt outside and our two main office people, the guy who started the company and his weird pseudo girlfriend who lives above the office and is basically our main dispatcher, the two of them, started yelling about how we can’t smoke weed because the people across the street said something blah blah I don’t know, it’s fucking infantile, so I walked away to smoke around the corner and she followed us to like, scold us and say no we can’t smoke there either, only in the back yard or blah blah and I’m going like, wow, really, you’re my fucking mom and you’re going to tell me what to do now? We were going behind our work van, no one could’ve seen us. I should’ve told her to fuck off, she was being paranoid and we weren’t doing anything wrong. But anyway, so I was on edge from that and already thinking about leaving, and this guy starts talking about this trans woman this and trans woman that and emphaszing *SHE* and *HER* everytime he said it, and then I hear him go “yeah shes a tranny” and I’m just like oh wow ok. This is the reality of my life. I work at a company where people get to use slurs against me in my own office, and I can’t say anything because no one knows I am trans. So i nudged the only guy there who knows, and I was like, do you hear this? And he hadn’t been paying attention. And then I left. It was starting to rain so I just went to 7/11 and bought a burrito and took 5 bucks cash back out to pay my roommate for bud. And I’ve just been here since then, kind of hating myself and my life. Even though I live in this great rowhome, my medication costs $2 a month, I get high all the time and ride bikes for money, yadad ada.

Also, and this is almost certainly related, my self esteem is directly inversly proportional to the visibility of my beard shadow. No shadow, high esteem. Big shadow, low esteem. And I haven’t shaved in like 2 days or something. I just didn’t have time this morning. I hate it I hate it I hate it why can’t I burn it all off I hate it fucking dysphoria fucking fucking fucking shit

I get paid tomorrow. I am expecting maybe $700. I will have to pay one of my drug dealers $70, another $110. Then I have to pay at least $150 on my Paypal Credit. I owed them $400 in March and now it’s up to like $550 from fees. So $150 to put it back where it was. Then I need a new Boombotix because the charging port fell into the casing of my last one. Considering just jumping into the minirigs but $115 is a lot for a speaker during a month like this when the Boombotix is only $20. Then I need to buy razors, new shorts, maybe new Sidis if I can find them for less than $100. Some new furniture for my room, a dresser at least. And a chair. Time Atac pedals so I can stop popping out during skids. A fresh gatorskin since mine is very badly worn out. From skidding.

On the upside, I am getting really good at skids now. Probably doesn’t justify $60/mo on tires, but yeah.My desktop and laptop are both pretty fucked up right now, might need to look into some possibilities there.

I’m straight up alternating eating peanut butter and drinking water right now. Now I’m laying down. I have to stay up until like 11pm to take my 3rd dose. 8am, 3:30pm, 11pm. It’s 9:30 now.I still haven’t watched the show footage. I feel very cringy about that. It is over and done with, I should just watch the footage and laugh and move on. But I haven’t watched any of it. The dude still hasn’t sent me everything he has, but I haven’t even watched the 2 videos he did send.

I feel disgusting

dysphoria fuck u

laser hair removal is far too expensive

shaving is too tedious

waxing seems terrifying in a way I can’t rationally explain

how do I just

ugh

thank u for reading my poem