#god I’m so stupid I need courage and more drives to share my own stuff instead of being afraid

[thedragicloudluigi]

💦Long Lounge Hair💦

Haven’t shared my DnD Wott in a long while, so here he is. Kaoto Merki now has long hair.✨

Tfw you’ve been scared to share your own characters for a long time but then remembered that you’ve shared ‘em before A N D are in an era of the cringe but free (?)

[lengthofropes]

POVs series

Part 4: Dean

words: 2,2k; rating: teen and up

summary:

Dean’s POV, since Cas is gone, then got back from the Empty.

Intentionally written as scattered thoughts.

Slowly, from grief, to the ending that they both deserve.

————————————-

1. What shapes me? Lines of my bones, enveloped within my skin, so tensed and fragile. The tremble of my hands in the morning, as I try but can’t find you next to me. My old clothes, my new clothes. Corners of my house.  My car’s seat upholstery. Soft recoil of my revolver. Food on my plate. Blood in my arteries. My “yes”s and my “no”s and cracks in my voice, as I say so.   - I’d drive. - Far away. From here, but where to? I’d watch the sun goes up and down, up and down, throwing it’s rays into side mirror. Lightening the road or leaving it in darkness, disturbed only by the headlights. I’d listen to the sound that air makes, sliced in half by the windshield. I’d listen to the purring of the engine under the hood, gratefully fed with gasoline. Too bad, it’s not clamorous enough. I’d pay dearly. With money, with time, that’s left. With anything. For something so loud, that could muffle my inaudible screams into nowhere. - I’d drive. But where to? - I don’t know where to. -

keep reading under the cut  -  or  -   read on AO3

2. I can’t drive alone. I keep seeing your gaze on my right. I see it, when I look into the rear view mirror too. Like you’re still here, around, waiting to say something. Or just sitting silently, pervading the air with the appeasement of your presence. Looking at me.   How long will it take me to forget how your eyes looked like? How long will it take me to forget what you saw in me? How can I? Now, that I believe in everything you’ve said. - How warm your touch was. - How good does it feel to be “finally free”, remind me? I don’t like the price. -

3. I’d like some certainty, you know? To come to terms. But I keep thinking “If only..” I keep asking “What if..?”  So many of those. Like there are other paths, and it all could’ve work out differently. They throw me back days ago, then months ago, then years. All my life, since the day I’ve met you. I keep searching for the answer, for the exact point, the moment, when I could’ve say something, do something. And you’d still be here.

“If”s are draining me. They are the lump in my throat, big and barbed. Sometimes it grows so big, it blocks the air from getting into my lungs. And in times like these I wonder, maybe I should just stop breathing at all? Still easier, than to accept your absence. - What if. What if. What if. - And you’d still be here. Here. -

4. Prayers never got me any good. Except of those, that were for you. But you can’t hear me now. You can’t hear at all. I know, it’s no use, I know it’s not possible, I know… I know. But I keep doing this, I keep begging. Not for a solace, not because of compassion. For fairness. Because. You took yourself away from me. It’s not fair, it’s so not fair. How could you do this to me? It’s not fair, can you hear me? It’s not fair! It’s not… - Come back to me. - Bring him back to me. - I don’t know if it is a prayer, I just repeat it over and over. Maybe I’m hoping these words will lose their meaning, if I’ll bounce them against every wall? Every wall of every empty room. I wander around them at night. You stood here, you smiled there, we had an argument, sitting in these chairs. And here, here you touched my shoulder. - Come back to me. Please, come back to me. -

5. How come, it’s been months already? I counted the seconds; they aimlessly wandered around, and then, having nothing else to do, gathered into minutes. It took more courage for minutes to gather in hours, but they did anyway. Hours slowly built up the days, and every seven days made it into a week. - I know, how time works. I’m just not sure, it works for me. - It’s not a straight line, I think. It’s more like a quagmire, and I’m drowning. I looked at myself in the mirror again this morning, as I do every day. I look closely, I check, I perceive. Hey, you’d be proud of me, you know? Little by little, I merge my usual “I” with your vision of me. Because this is the best way to remember you - to live by your last words. - I’d like to tell you, how YOU changed me. [ X ] -

6. Light is blinding me. Heart grew so big, it filled all of my chest, not sure, if there’s a place left to breathe in. Please, let it be real. Please. Please… Not another happy dream, that turns into nightmare, when I’m waking up. Please. - I see you. - Same room, same spot. You. Alive. Your hands are cold. You’re so weak, you can’t stand by yourself, you can’t even speak. But before you passed out, you looked at me. You looked at me, and I saw my own eyes reflect in yours. And that was enough to believe this is real. - I don’t remember… I… - Someone’s shaking my shoulder and saying my name over and over again. I’m sitting on the floor, holding you in my arms. My fingers hurt. I must’ve clutched them into your trench coat too tight. I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting like this. But yes… yes… Sam’s hand is on my shoulder and he’s right, his voice is very quiet, but he’s right. We should get you out of here. We should put you in bed. - I nod. I’m not sure I can speak. -

7. It’s so quiet. - You lay. You rest. You sleep. I’ll watch over you. It’s my turn now. The room is still. Only movement is your chest’s slow ups and downs, as you breathe. It’s just air, nothing more, right? How can the sound of air, filling the lungs, be the most soothing sound in the world? But it is. - It’s our air. We share it. - And I’m crying. I’m crying and I’m crying and I can’t stop. -

8. Sam came back from the store, I stand in the kitchen, taking out groceries and stuff out of the shopping bags. Among everything, I see he bought a super glue, I have no idea, what he needs this for. This is so stupid, this is so fucking stupid, it’s pathetic… but I can’t keep my eyes of it. “Use super glue to strongly bind 2 surfaces together”. I want to come into your room, I want to sit beside you, while you’re still sleeping. I want to smear that goddamn glue all over you, from head to toe, and put myself on top of you, as like I’m the other surface. “Assemble parts and hold together with pressure for 15 seconds or until set”, the directions say.   Or, there’s gotta be sewing kit here somewhere? I want to thread a needle and sew you to me. With such large and strong stitches, I darned Sam’s pants like that when I was a kid, I know these stitches are reliable, believe me. Or use a duck tape. Or shove us both into the bottle and threw it away into the ocean. - It’s been two days and nine hours, since you’re back. Someday, I’ll be able to leave your room, leave you out of my sight, and don’t feel growing panic in my chest. - Someday, I’ll believe you’re back for good. For good. For ever. Not today. -

9. Your bare legs are sticking out of your robe. You are strong enough to walk around the bunker, and, of course, the first thing you did is get to the kitchen. Oh, you woke up hungry and just wanted to make yourself a sandwich, I see… You are not cold, but you are sitting on a chair, constantly adjusting this stupid robe, wrapping yourself in it tighter. You weirdo. You know who you remind me of? A cold little sparrow on a twig, who keeps on ruffling the feathers to keep warm. Those legs are sticking out… - I place a huge bowl of hot chicken soup in front of you. “Eat!” I say. “Or I’m gonna start feeding you with a spoon, I swear!” You mutter something dissatisfied about peanut butter and jelly under your nose, but I won’t even listen. "Eat!” I say. Seriously, you didn’t want to wake me up?? So nice of you! Next time consider my near heart attack, maybe? You look sorry and giving me those puppy eyes, and I swear I want to smile so bad. Not just smile, really. To laugh with my full chest, easy and warm. - You breathe. You sleep. Now you eat. Should I ask questions? You’re here. You’re okay. You’re getting better. - You’re getting better. -

10. Your hair smell of my shampoo. Your hair. Smell of my shampoo. Your clothes are my old ones, but they fit you so good. Soon, when you’re well enough, we’re gonna drive some place nice and buy you your own. It’s selfish, probably, but I want it to happen as late, as possible; not your recovery, of course, your new clothes, I mean. - You look mine in my clothes. - Your hair smell of my shampoo. I’ve realised it just now, when you fell asleep on my shoulder. I forgive you, we’ve seen this movie two times already, it’s okay. And I can pretend I’m still watching it, while shamelessly wander my eyes over you, curled in a ball, covered with soft plaid. - I dare to kiss the top of your head, I dare to cover your knuckles with my palm, carefully, not to wake you up. - You are so warm. -

11. Do I deserve you? - Do I? Your presence in my life. You. All of you. So pure, so perfect. So selfless. I’d say you are full of light, but it’s not quite so. Because you are the light. God, I’m so scared. It starts in my fingertips, they ache, like being pinned with needles. Needles get into my blood flow and make my whole body shiver. - It took me way too long to understand, but I see now… it’s not about you, it’s about me. I know, I know! I remember everything you’ve said. I remember how I tried to believe it, to understand, to accept, to let it all inside me and keep it there. Your simple truth, that I actually mean something. Mean so much. To you. Fucking everyday morning exercises. Look and repeat, look and repeat to self all over again, “you are loved, you are loved, you are loved…” until not scared of the meaning. But… is this enough? What you feel about me? What I feel about you? To deserve you? Do I deserve you, do I? Do I? I… - But you’re kissing me back. - And you shiver too. Are those my needles got into your veins or are those yours? Jesus, do you have the same idiotic thoughts in your head?? God, we are both so clumsy, so stupid, so fucking stupid! We were so dumb, we are both so dumb! We are… We… - WE. - And I’m kissing you. I’m kissing you. I deserve it. I deserve you. I do. -

12. To feel the pulse on your neck with my lips. To smile, when your stubble tickles my ribs. To hear your shuddered inhales right next to my temple. To hold you, closer than ever, and not be afraid to. - It’s something about the heat of your skin, that makes me feel belonged. Safe. -

13. - You told me, you want to grow old with me. -

14. It’s quite hot, but windy today. You rolled the window down, and fresh air immediately filled up the car. We’re driving back home from the grocery store. You’re texting to someone and smiling. Tell them “Hi” from me. We’re listening to the new mixtape you’ve made. It’s awful, by the way. 90’s? Seriously?? Oh, don’t hurt yourself rolling your eyes back. Ok…Okay! I’m shutting up! You’re taking two milkshakes out of the bag, one for you, one for me. We argue on who’s gonna cook today. We drive past the small tidy houses with green yards and gardens, talking over each one of those. Someday, soon, yeah, most likely. That one with blue shutters? Yeah, I like it too. - In between of shifting the gears, I hold your hand. I love you. - Days are like this. -

15. Hello, my name is Dean Winchester. White male, early forties’. I don’t try to recognize myself in a mirror anymore. I don’t ask questions. - I’m just here. - Yeah, there’s grey in my hair, quite a bit, but still. These are my arms, my shoulders, hands. I used to know my hands as lethal, strong and fast, and I’ve always thought, that’s enough for male hands. I mean… they are, yes. But now I’d add, they are full of care, also. Even gentle. They are good for so many things, I didn’t even realize they are so good. [ X ] - This is my face. Here are my freckles and there are my wrinkles. - This is my skin; I live in it.

- It finally fits me. -

__________________________________

tag list:

@alivedean @achillestiel @acklesology @agentcastiels @burnhamandtilly @bluefirecas @bebecas @becauseofthebowties @ben-edlund @bestiarum @bipridedean @brokenyouth @casthyelle @captain-flint @celestialdean @celestialcastiel @chaoticdean @castheology @cosmiccas @deanwinchesteradjacent @donestiel @debriefingspn @dstiel @evermorecastiel @emptymeg @endverse @fromperdition @forthiswholeworld @galaxycastiel @heartattackles @honeystiel @highvoltagejackles @inacatastrophicmind @itsinjustbeing @icegifs @iheartcas @itsinjustbeing @joharvele @jacobglaser @jackthomson90-blog @lucymorans @mad-as-a-box-of-frogs @magnoliadean @maxguevra @misha-collins @mckkachins @marvells @mochadean @nesnej @nuntox @presidentbidean @rocksaltseraph @sarahblakes @starlightcastiel @starrynightdeancas @sobsicles @shelikestv @sinnabonka @sourpatchdean @spnsmile @smiledean @seraphcastiel @soleeryx @subbydean @tearsofgrace @teamfoundfamily @theedorksinlove @thatisahotsoup @ultravioletcas @valleydean @waywardism @winchester-reload @winchestergifs @xofemeraldstars @yelenasbelovaas @you-cant-spell-subtext-without @saltyghostsworld  @plantdadcas @sammy-501 @dtadeancas  @subtledean @kaz2y5baby @angelic-bee-enthusiast  @gardenforcas @bimiserables @gabrielle-main  @highkey-dysphoric @lila-tom @teddybluesclues  

[simsadventures]

My Avenger Girl

Summary: Your relationship with Bucky grows stronger everyday, and Bucky feels confident enough to take you to the Avenger compound for you to meet his family. And you fit right in.

Warnings: fluff, hint of jealousy, implied smut, swearing, Avengers x Supernatural crossover

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x huntress!Winchester!Reader, Dean Winchester x reader (platonic), Sam Winchester x reader (platonic)

Word Count: 2561

A/N: Third part of My Girl Miniseries is here you guys! I got to thank @voltage2d-mylove for requesting the sequels to the original fics, because I’m having so much fun writing this! Hope some of you enjoy this little something with me :) xx

My Girl Miniseries Masterlist __ Masterlist

Part I      Part II   Part IV

Bucky laid on his back in your bed in the bunker, staring at the ceiling, thinking. He loved spending time with you, and the more he actually was with you, the more he fell in love with you. The worst thing, however, was that he had to leave you every now and then, because either you had a case that would take a bit longer than a day, or because he was called on a mission. And he hated leaving you behind. He wanted to spend every minute of the day with you, still very much in the first phase of the relationship, where people couldn’t keep their hands together.

You owned Bucky’s heart and soul, and he knew that if anything happened to you while he was gone, he would hate himself for the rest of his life. He’s meant to ask you a single question for the past few weeks, but every time he worked up the courage to do so, something stopped him.

One time, it was your brother, Sam, coming into the library just as Bucky took a breath to ask you. Then it was his own phone, and Steve calling him to tell him they had an urgent mission. Or it was the timer on the stove. Every fucking time. And it kinda made Bucky feel like he shouldn’t ask you in the first place. That maybe it’s fate. Or perhaps he’s just being stupid, he told himself and looked over at your sleeping form.

You were so cute asleep, your mouth slightly opened, your eyes fluttering, and Bucky would give anything to see what was happening behind your eyelids. If you were dreaming of him, or not. If you thought of him just as often as he was thinking of you.

He rolled over to the side, so that he was facing you, and trying to be as gentle as possible, he slid his hand under the sheets and caressed the skin on your arm eliciting a hum from your lips. It was past 9 AM, so he knew you had to get up either way, and he thought that having him wake you up might make you less grumpy.

His fingers travelled to your collarbone, only the fingertips touching you, drawing circles on your skin. He could hear your heart beating a bit faster, and your breath not being as slow and deep as it was moments ago; all signs of you waking up.

When he looked into your face, you were already staring back at him, a small smile playing on your lips.

“Well good morning to you, Mr Barnes!” You rasped, your voice husky from the lack of talking.

Bucky smiled at you and nuzzled your cheek before he kissed you.

“Good morning to you too, Ms Y/L/N. Did you have a good night?”

You just nodded and brought him closer to you, unwilling to get up out of bed just yet. You wanted to sleep as long as possible, and if Bucky weren’t as cute as he was, you would definitely scold him for waking you up at all. But who could be mad at that pretty face?

“I’ve been thinking, Y/N, and-“ Bucky starts but before he can finish you sit up straight, bringing your blanket with you to cover your modesty and looking at him confusedly.

“Are you breaking up with me? I thought we were at a good place, I thought things were fine between us. More than fine, actually. Why do you want to leave me? What did I do wrong? How-“

It was now Bucky’s time to stop you from rambling by putting his finger on your lips and shaking his head. Breaking up, pff, sure.

“Listen to me, Y/N. You are one crazy person, you know that? I didn’t want to break up with you, you moron. I wanted to ask you if you wanted to come with me to the compound, get to know my teammates and stuff. I love you! I’m not letting you go, don’t you worry about that,” he smiled at you sweetly, and your heart finally calmed down a bit.

You chuckled nervously, feeling a little ashamed for letting your anxiety take over this moment.

Bucky laughed as well and kissed you again, but before he could get out of the bed, you took his hand in his and brought him back.

“I love you too, you know? That’s why I freaked out like that. And yes, I would love to get to know your family, it would be my pleasure.”

You could see your boyfriend beaming with pride, both from your admission of love and that you were actually excited to meet the people that were somehow most important to him.

“Do you think we could leave today? You know, be there for the weekend so that I could fly you back before your brothers got back from that wraith hunt. I know how much you miss them,” he smirked at you, and you swatted his shoulder.

But it was true, you did miss your brothers. However, lately, you’ve been feeling very different kinds of emotions, and that especially when Bucky left for some mission, or when you had to go on a hunt. You missed him like crazy, your body craved him, and your mind called for him. You always thought you’d be hunting with your brothers for the rest of your life, but ever since you met Bucky, things changed, and you suddenly longed to spend more time with him. Even if it meant not seeing your brothers every second of every day.

You knew they would understand if Bucky asked you to move in with him and if you said yes, but because that question was not yet asked, you didn’t want to delve too deeply into it. You just hoped Bucky was on the same note as you were, and that this New York visit would bring you two closer to the shared future.

You got ready reasonably quickly, packing the essentials and some sexy lingerie just in case the two of you could get some moments alone. Which you hoped you could get, to be completely honest. Staying away from Bucky and bed was a task you weren’t too good at, and you prayed to Chuck that you would never get better in it.

The flight to New York was swift, thanks to the quinjet, a thing you enjoyed immensely because the travelling was just somehow easier than driving around like three idiots with your brothers, with constant back pain thanks to the old car seats.

When you saw the compound get into the view, you started to play with your hands. Not that you weren’t excited to meet everyone. You sure were. But, at the same time, you knew all those people from television. They were superheroes. And you were… well, you. And you just hoped that it would be enough and that they wouldn’t want to drive you away because you weren’t good enough for their friend.

You’ve already met the Falcon and Captain American, however briefly that was. You were most nervous about Natasha, quite frankly. She was a goddess in your eyes, her graceful fighting techniques, her elegant walk, everything about her was perfect in your mind, and you didn’t know how you could even fight her for Bucky’s attention.

God! You were pathetic. You haven’t even met the woman yet, but you quickly assumed what would happen when you met her. For all you knew she wouldn’t even be there, or she’d be the nicest person on this Earth. Which, for some reason, irritated you even more.

Bucky could probably feel your nerves, because he put his hands into your lap, separating your own hands because he feared you’d rip the skin on your fingers down completely.

“You have nothing to worry about, Y/N. Everyone’s gonna love you, I know that for a fact!”

You tried to give him a smile, but the only thing you could muster was a grimace, and you were surprised that Bucky didn’t shriek in fear at what your face was capable of doing.

“I know, it’s just, your friends are all so cool, and like you’re superheroes and stuff, and I’m just a plain ol’ me,” you whispered, more to yourself than Bucky, but with his super hearing, you knew he would catch that as well.

He landed the jet and turned to face you.

“Plain old you? Are you kidding me? You’re one of the most badass women I’ve ever met. You fight monsters on a daily basis, baby! I love you, and nothing can change my mind, alright?”

That calmed you down a bit, and you hugged him tightly, trying to feel his heart beating against your own chest, that always brought you back in the moment. Bucky smiled into your hair and let you take all the time you needed to gather the courage to go and face the building full of superheroes.

When you pulled away, he kissed your forehead, whispering that everything will be alright, he grabbed your hand and led you out of the plane and inside the building.

It didn’t look like you imagined. For some reason, you thought it will be quiet and lonely, but the whole compound was buzzing with people running left and right, some in lab coats, while others were wearing technical gear. You looked around, and it all seemed unreal. Everything was new and shiny and seemed extremely expensive. Not like your home underground. You loved that space you shared with your brothers, but this looked much cooler.

Bucky was watching your every reaction as he led you through the compound, nodding at people around him, but not really giving them his attention. That was all on you.

You two finally reached the common room, where Bucky knew the most of the team would be at that time of the day. It was lunchtime, and his teammates were like hungry bears. Some were  hungry and looking like pigs *cough, cough, Sam, cough* but he wouldn’t say that out loud. At least, not today.

When you stepped inside the room, everyone stopped talking and turned to look at you. You gave them all a shy smile, and you could see a few smirk and smiles around the room. The first to break the silence was Sam.

“Well, well, well. Look who came back, our lover boy! And he brought his badass huntress with him! What a pleasant surprise. Nice to see you again, Y/N,” Sam hollered and gave you a nod, while Bucky just rolled his eyes at Sam’s theatrical behaviour.

You said your hellos to the rest of the group and sat down next to Bucky by the huge table, where Vision served some Hungarian food. You didn’t know what it was, but it was so damn good you later asked him to give you a recipe to cook for your brothers. You just made a mental note to put a lot more meat into Dean’s plate.

The whole lunch was so regular it hurt. You expected that they would talk about monsters and stuff, but the closest the conversation got to a monster was when Sam told the group about catching Steve in a bathroom, giving himself a pep-talk, which included something about Steve being a beast, a sexy sexy beast, and you couldn’t hear more than that through all the snorts of laughter around the table.

Steve was red as a tomato, and you gave him an apologetical smile, still trying to contain your laughter. To try and calm him down, you told him about the time you caught Dean doing pretty much the same, looking in the mirror without a t-shirt on, kissing his biceps and winking at himself in the mirror. That got the people to laugh as well, and Steve nodded at you, glad that the conversation shifted slightly.

Just like you thought, Natasha was even prettier in reality, but while you thought Bucky would be looking at her, because, c’mon, who wouldn’t look at her? You had a problem keeping your eyes away from her beautiful face. Bucky was staring at you the whole time, and it made you feel that much better about yourself and your whole relationship.

You and Natasha even shared a bonding moment about her knife collection, which she insisted on showing you and the two of you spent good 20 minutes comparing knives and different techniques at either throwing them or stabbing somebody.

You didn’t even realise it, but by the time you finished talking to everybody in the room, it got dark outside, and Bucky walked to your side to seemingly rescue you from one of Sam’s funny stories from a mission where he was with Bucky. You knew that Bucky was more saving himself from the embarrassment of you knowing all those dirty secrets Sam would tell you, but you didn’t protest. You bid your goodbyes to the whole room and followed Bucky to his little apartment within the compound.

“See? I told you you would be fine, and you didn’t believe me,” Bucky said, intertwining his fingers with yours, walking down the corridor.

“I had my doubts, not gonna lie. And yes, you were right, and I will always listen to you from now on,” you said mockingly, but with a smirk playing on your lips.

Bucky laughed out loud and squeezed your hand.

“We both know that’s not true, doll.”

“Well, there is one place where I can listen to you, all night long, and I can do it in a brand new see-through lingerie if you let me get changed,” you rasped seductively (or at least you hoped it was seductive), but judging by the throaty groan coming from Bucky, you assumed you did an excellent job. And by the sudden quick pace of Bucky’s footsteps, you imagined he couldn’t wait for you to listen to him, just the way he liked it.

Before you could reach the room, Bucky spun you around and pushed you against a wall. He smirked devilishly at you, and kissed you hungrily, taking your breath away in the process.

You head was spinning from the lack of oxygen and from the intensity of the kiss, but when Bucky pulled away and asked you something, you almost fainted then and there.

“Move in with me,” he whispered, and before you could give him an affirmative answer, he continued.

“I know that I’m competing with your brothers, and that you might think this is too fast, but I fucking love you doll, and every day without you is a horrible day. I just want to spend as much time with you as I can.”

You were staring at each other, and you knew that there wasn’t a better place for you, than in Bucky’s arms.

“Yes, I’ll gladly move in with you, Sergeant Barnes. My brothers will manage, and I can still hunt with them from time to time. It’s not like I’m never going to see them again.”

Bucky released a relieved sigh and kissed you again, this time much slower, conveying all his emotions in this one kiss. And you seriously couldn’t wait to start this new chapter with him.

My Girl Taglist:

@abswritesfandoms​ @daringtodreamawake

Bucky Taglist

@this-kitten-is-smitten​ @paradisiacalsparks​ @crazybutconfidentaf​ @owlyannah​ @lassini​ @s-trawberryv-eins​ @reniescarlett​ @bxrnsfeyson​ @the-soulofdevil​

Marvel Taglist

@voltage-my2dlove​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @lumar014​ @ptrs-prkrs​

Forever Tag:

@eileenalone​ @sasbb23​ @p8tn0lish​ @coffeebooksandfandom​ @waiting4inspiration​ @caswinchester2000​ @mogaruke​ @justthatfangirloverthere​ @mushyjellybeans​ @livsheph​ @sebbbystaaan​ @notyourtypicalrose​ @itsunclebucky​

[howwnowbrowncoww]

10 Characters, 10 Fandoms

thanks for the tag @vidramon​! I’m going to refrain from picking Malroth since it’s a total given for me lol and since you already wrote some pretty great stuff about him. These aren’t really in any order and I picked off the top of my head so I’m sure I’m missing a few I’d really be able to chat your ears off about, but this was fun anyway!

Oops, editing this to say anyone can try it out! Not tagging anyone specific this time, but if you want to talk about 10 characters you love, please add on an share or make your own post and tag me because I’d love to see!

1. Bado (Rune Factory 4)

Honestly, I love all the characters from 4, but this loser holds a special place in my heart. His half-hearted passion for getting rich quick but lack of follow through when it comes to negatively impacting people around him with his schemes is oddly endearing. I equally want to wring his neck and be his best friend. I also will die mad that he wasn’t a marriage candidate>:T

2. Tamaki Amajiki (BNHA)

It was a toss up between him and Shinsou, but I picked Tamaki because I can relate more to him. I love seeing him fight with determination and courage despite how much anxiety he has. He works hard despite all his perceived faults, and his supportive friend group makes me so happy for him! I left off mid season 4 of the anime but I want to pick it up again just for him and Shinsou lol

3. Ghirahim (Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Okay, I know, major leap from anxious Tamaki, but Ghirahim is a fave on the complete opposite side of the scale. This guy is obviously an asshole. A total jerk. Dickhead supreme. But he’s a very fun and interesting villain (in the worst way) imo. I’m also a huge fan of WindWaker Ganondorf because of his drive as a villain, but I picked Ghirahim since SS is getting remade soon. Idk, his design is eye-catching, every time I got to meet him in the game, he always had interesting dialouge (putting it lightly), and his personality uh...leaves much to be improved upon, but he HAS ONE! I’m tired of boring villains with lackluster motivations. Okay, his motivations were kinda expectable too, but his overwhelming desire to kill me in an extremely over-the-top dramatic fashion at all times was refreshing.

4. Sophie (Howl’s Moving Castle)

I know a lot of people have a favorite Sophie (either the book or movie version), but I like both equally for really different reasons. I related to movie Sophie a lot as a kid (still kinda do), so I have nostalgia going for me there, but book Sophie is a wild card. I lover her. She’s nuts, she won’t hesitate to throw acid, she can and will do whatever the hell she wants. I really want to be her. 

5. Fenris (Dragon Age 2)

It was SO HARD to pick between him, Bull, and Dorian, because I haven’t played any of the games, but I want to meet them all so damn bad lol. I OWN all the games, I just haven’t played them yet /cries/. Ironically, I took a quiz the other day and it said I’d be Fenris, and I honestly was just more concerned than anything considering his backstory lmao. Anyway, I love an elf who can wield a greatsword and rip people’s hearts from their bodies while avoiding his emotionally traumatic past:>

6. Galo Thymos (Promare)

Look, I absolutely ADORE everyone in this entire movie, but this moron just hits all the best character traits for me. He’s passionate, he’s stupider than all get out, and he’s constantly shirtless while almost dying and saving the day through sheer god-defying luck and a refusal to lay down and die. There’s just something about himbos that gets me, ya know?

7. Kurapika Kurta (Hunter X Hunter)

Kurapika has what Sasuke could NEVER. Literally, Kurapika has such a more satisfying revenge/redemption ark than anything I’ve ever seen. I love his interaction with Melody and the main group, the red eyes thing is so BADASS (again, still cooler than Sasuke’s), the chains are both aesthetic as HELL and insanely, terrifyingly effective. Never seen a cooler anime character in my entire life. I also just really, really want to give him a fucking hug, like wow he really needs one.

8. Apollo Justice (Ace Attorney games)

Apollo is a new love of mine (also from a game I haven’t played yet) as well as another character for me to eventually project onto;) He’s anxious, he yells a lot, he’s oblivious as fuck, but he has the passion I love in all my characters. This boy is in for a world of hurt (from the many spoilers I have run into by browsing the game tags prematurely lol), but I know he’ll pull through! He has his family by his side!;-;

9. Sakura Haruno (Naruto)

Don’t even get me started on Sakura>:O I love her so much. I did not appreciate her near enough as a kid (maybe understandably since she was written for shit). Instead of going back and rewatching the show to face inevitable disappointment, I just read fics that fix all of the crappy things the show did to her:) This girl could crush me like a bug and I am looking respectfully!!

10. Tadashi Hamada (Big Hero 6)

Saving the most underloved one for last;-; Tadashi I miss you. I rewatch this goddamn movie just for you (and sometimes Baymax). I have the only shirt I could ever find with him on it and I also have his hat because once I latch onto a character, I apparently never let go. It’s a shame Disney had to kill him off to further the plot. I was so desperate for more content of this character that I found myself falling down theory spirals about how he may come back as Sunfire (that name may be wrong, it’s been a few years lol). Ultimate big brother, great best friend, everyone loved him and knew he was creating good things for the world, super goofy: literally I think I just aspired to be more like him when I first saw the movie. Mad respect for this dude.

[anonymous-girl37]

Here is my story.

Most stories tend to start with things being normal, however, for this one, it is honestly a clusterfuck of bullshit with a little bit of normalcy thrown in to give me the illusion of stability. Even when I was only nine, I remember fun and family activities were never really with just her and us- it was always with somebody else there to motivate her. I sort of had to raise Katie and Kylie on my own at some points. She took care of us technically speaking; she didn’t starve us or anything, she just wasn’t available for the emotional side of being a parent. The parts that kids grow up to remember, unfortunately for us.

One of the best examples of her neglectful care for us was around that time... Me being around age… eight? Nine? It all blurs together at some points, but the point is I was young.

My mom always takes naps, they last a whole ten minutes sometimes, but she’s always tired, maybe she’s sick. Whenever she’s sleeping, she says I get to play house with my sisters and pretend I’m the mom. My favorite is when she drives to the store for candy for us because then I make the rules for extra long. I get to make them lunch and play outside. Sometimes she lets me read them stories before their nap time, which is mommy’s relaxing time, so I get the whole rest of the house to myself. I get to make all the rules, dad never lets me do that. He doesn’t know, mommy said it’s our secret. I hate when she doesn’t get her naps in because then she’s grumpy. She went away for a whole week and she hasn’t taken a nap or been grumpy since she got back, maybe the doctors did surgery and fixed her. She’s even taking us to the park while dad’s at work tomorrow.

It’s been a week now, mommy was going to take us swimming but she said her head hurt too much, and the next day we were supposed to play in the woods but she needed to take a nap, and it was almost time for dinner when she woke up. Dad couldn’t know she was napping again, or he’d make her go away for a long time she said. She tells me I’m a good secret keeper. Maybe tomorrow she will let us go swimming.

Mommy’s been back home for two weeks and her medicine already stopped working, I wish it worked for longer cause I miss when mommy was fun. Mommy loves when I play house with my little sisters, but sometimes I get tired of it. I have to listen to her anyway. She’s better than dad because she doesn’t have any stupid rules. All dad ever does is work, we only get to play with him for a little bit after work and on the weekends.

It wasn’t something that stopped, her shitty “parenting” if you can even call it that, never improved. I was 12 years old popping Klonopin like candy, with her permission of course. Not only was she okay with me taking drugs, but she also fueled my addiction with her prescription. At least she was generous with her pills, however, she had plenty enough to share. She got a script of 90 a month from one doctor and 60 a month from another. She was good at pretending to have illnesses for drugs, and trust me, it’s extremely escalated since then. I don’t know who else she gave them away to, but when she ran out she always found a way to get more. Pills were more important to her than us having new clothes, and undergarments. She cared more about pills than saving money to do fun stuff with my sisters and me. She only ever wanted to be high, and she was so good at hiding it. She had our whole family fooled for years. She lived and still does live a life of lies. She sucks the life out of everyone she’s near. She sucked the life out of me. She had me becoming friends with kids who dealt drugs, It was a messy situation all around, I hung around people much older than me, I did drugs with men almost twice my age, however, usually Nicole was around for that part. At least she didn’t leave me alone with strange men, before the age of 13, I guess that was the cut-off. She decided I was mature enough, old enough, to hang out with men 8 years older than me. Luckily I had someone to protect me. Anthony tried to at least, to help me become my best. He wasn’t much better off than me in regards to a mother and he had a terrible drug problem. We experienced the same things in different ways. It felt like everything I went through, he did before me. Our lives were nowhere near identical. He grew up with his grandfather who fucked him out of his childhood, quite literally. I was addicted to Xanax, but that was nowhere near strong enough for his need to forget. Heroin was his kryptonite, he couldn’t get enough of it, but no matter how high he was, or how dope sick he was because he couldn’t find any, he made sure I was okay, he told me he loved me. Every day, that was the first thing I would hear him say. Our entire lives were straight ahead of us. He was poetic and artistic, and everything he said to me sounded like a quote from a book. He wanted his story heard, and he wanted me to be the one to hear it. It feels like I’m now responsible for telling the world. He never wanted anyone to know him, just who he was. He wasn’t all happy, and nice, he was a total asshole sometimes, I’m not sure that he was even aware. The love we had was one I’ll never forget though.

I’ve dropped my bottle and there’s broken glass on the ground now. I guess that’s what I get for being lost in these thoughts. It cut my leg but I can’t feel it. The glass reminds me of him. It reminds me of the night all of us got drunk and they were smashing glass bottles on the concrete. He screams “whoever runs through it gets $20 and this” as he’s holding a ½ empty bottle of rum. And some other guy told him he’d give home $100.00 to do it. So he runs through the things, falls, and has glass stuck from his feet to his knees. I’ll never forget that smell, blood, and vodka. I spent damn near two hours pulling glass out of his legs and feet and bandaging them up.

July Summer 2017

Today had to have been the best day of my life. Anthony took me to our spot, and we talked for hours, about nothing and everything, as always. We’re getting sober together. We’re going to do it. We promised. Today marks 1 day clean. Weed is an exception because fuck quitting that. I would do anything to make this man happy. I’ve known for a long time that he loves me, but today made me realize how much I truly love him too. I’m happy with him. My life is chaotic right now, but he’s my calm. He’s my peace. I can’t wait for the day we never have to leave each other again.

August 11 summer 2017

We’ve been sober for a month today. I want to go to this back to school party but Anthony is being a little bitch about it. I’ll convince him to go.

August 12 summer 2017

He died. On purpose. I made him go to the party and he overdosed. I thought he was just drunk. We cuddled on the porch swing until he fell over into my lap. He laid in my lap for 20 minutes before I knew. He had no pulse. He left a note in my back pocket. I can’t bring myself to look at it. I want to get rid of it.

My god damn room is a mess. Today marks 3 years since I lost the love of my life. I'm already drunk and it’s only 10 a.m. and of course, I, the drug addict, would take pills on a day like today. He would be so disappointed, but it’s finally come the time I read his suicide note, it’s finally the day, I’ve worked up the courage, I can do it. I need to do it. I must lock my door again, I can’t have another interruption. The door could’ve become unlocked. It’s locked, I’ve re-locked it twice now. I never imagined sitting on my bed, reading his note, his last words, whilst I’m a high and drunk mess. You’ll have that though, one of the greatest things Nicole ever taught me was to mask my feelings with drugs. I owe it to him. To read his last words. His voice still deserves to be heard.

Katrina,

I’m so sorry. I can’t keep doing this. I still kneel in the shower, and put my face down, letting the water puddle in my hands as if they could grow big enough to protect me from myself. The pain hits me randomly, it’s like I know I have lungs and I must be able to breathe, but I can’t, the air refuses to come. To this day, I get flashbacks, and I hate the feeling. It’s not normal. These are things you can’t forget. You want to rot because it’s better than being beat than being hurt. I have trouble believing anyone when they tell me they love me, but it’s easier with you. You told me I was your happiness and I gave you butterflies. My depression, my struggle, and my addiction gave you the determination to fight to make me happy. I’m sorry, but things are getting bad again. I should have never begun putting you through my pain. I don’t want help, I don’t want you to kill yourself fighting to save me, and I know you would if I didn’t stop you. You may not see it, and I doubt you will agree, but I’m doing what’s best. You have given me the greatest possible love, you have so much going for you, and you’re still so full of life, don’t lose that. Stay clean for me. I can’t fight anymore. Maybe that makes me a coward, but being a coward to the world is better than the pain that never leaves me, I’m tired of living in my hell. My eyes are full of tears writing this, and I can barely read. I owe my temporary feelings of joy to you. Anyone who knows me knows that if someone out there was going to save me, it would have been you. I can’t go on showering you in my pain, I can see the hurt in your eyes when you look at me. I hurt you because I’m so hurt I don’t know how to breathe anymore. If I die tonight, know that it’s for the best. Know that I haven’t truly been alive in a long time, that’s if I ever was at all. Don’t ruin yourself over me. Tell yourself what we had wasn’t real. Repeat to yourself that I never really loved you until you believe it. I treated you like a project, I manipulated you. Fool yourself into hating me. Because you’re going to see me in every single person. You’ll see some piece of me In everyone you meet. I know you, you’re going to look for me, whether you know you are or not, you’re going to seek me. If all of the words you said were true, you’re never going to give up looking for someone like me, you won’t find him. Find someone better. Find someone who fulfills you. You deserve a man who gives you the world even when he is falling apart. You deserve a love that doesn’t end, I want you to have those feelings again. I’m begging you not to look for me, I’m gone. I’m sorry that you’re never going to stop seeing pieces of me. Look for the good qualities, but I’m sure you’ll find the bad ones too. You’ll find my sense of humor in every funny movie, and all the chick flicks will remind you of our love. You’ll find my eyes in the face of a stranger and you’ll see my smile on little kids playing at the park. I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not. I was never sober. I told you I was because I knew if I got you started I could live with myself for leaving.

In reading this I thought I’d feel relieved, possibly ready to let the last of him go. But now I’m lost, more so than before. Now I’m angry, not with him, but with the world. You can’t hate someone for killing themselves, but you can hate the world for making them do it. You can hate the god or goddess or gods or goddesses you do or don’t believe in for letting it happen. I want to hate him, but I can’t because he’s not here, he took away my power to hate him, and so now I hate everything else. I hate everyone else. He wasn’t lying when he said I would see him in everyone. I see his good qualities somewhere in everyone, I see his bad qualities in every bad person but, I see him in everyone. It’s like when he died he became the universe, the universe swallowed him whole and he left a part of him in everyone. He picked who got his best qualities as if he knew I would find them. I do see his smile on the little kids playing at the park. I see his eyes in the only other man I’ve ever truly loved, they’re not the same, but the feelings in them are similar. I find his humor in every comedy. Sometimes I think maybe what he said was true, that he’d always be there for me whether physically present or not, because sometimes, on some of my worst days, I feel him. For just a minute, I can let myself pretend he isn’t gone. I can let myself pretend he never left this earth. Then my whole world comes crashing right back down. He swore to me he was sober. He promised. I think he only lied so I would be okay. I resent him for telling me to hate him. Because I can’t hate him, I want to so badly, but It’s impossible. Any pain he put me through was nothing compared to how he felt.

That's enough about him for now, as we're going to have to re-open that discussion later. Peach vodka sounds fantastic right now, I'll have a whipped pinnacle and peach smoothie. I could not have possibly made it any stronger than it is. Thank god for mind-altering substances, because quite frankly, I would be dead without them.

Nicole, if you're reading this, how did you do what you did? How were you content with yourself in the way you raised my sisters and me? Did you plan it all, or did you just go with the flow and lie when necessary? You never left a bruise, hell, you never even hit us. You scarred us permanently though, my sisters may not see it yet, but I do. Instead of giving us scars that would heal physically and show your crimes, you gave us invisible ones. The ones that people will deny us having for the rest of our lives. The ones that will always haunt us when we see you. You gave us scars that we can't get covered up with a pretty tattoo. You may not have hurt them as badly as me, but they don't deserve your games. I don't want them to experience even half of what I did.

Her games have left me empty, shallow, broken, and confused. I'm not confused about what she did or who she is, I'm confused about why. Why wasn't I good enough to deserve her love and compassion? What did I do so wrong? Why was I the one chosen to take on her role and try to fix my own life, and protect myself from someone who was supposed to protect and love me? I was forced to grow up so she could go backward. She wanted to live vicariously through me as if she wanted to become me. Everything I did, she did too. All the drugs I did, she just had to try, sometimes do them with me. Nothing was too far for her. She never told my dad though, "don't let your father find out" she would constantly imbed that into my head, it got to the point where I had become two people. One for my mother and one for my father. I remember breaking down one day, crying to myself because I felt like no one knew me and I didn't know who I was, and it was at that moment that I lost my sense of self. I'll probably never know who I am, or why. I have no clue who I want to be. I don't know how to become someone for myself, I've learned to feel as if I must adapt to everyone else.

Nicole told me everything and I mean everything. You may think, "oh that's not so bad, she's being open." Perhaps there are some things you should never tell your children. Some people should never be parents.

She loved to tell me how she was going to be so lost and sad when her "babies"(children all over the age of 10) leave her(by this she meant to grow up and go to school). How she liked sleeping around with all kinds of different men because it was fun and she was good at manipulating them. She told me about her sexual experiences and I wish she wouldn't have sometimes. She told me all kinds of things about her sex life, even asked for my commentary on the experience. Then later she changed many of her stories and said she was raped which had made me feel responsible if that's what had happened because I knew so maybe I should have known. She told me about the men she was dating and even introduced me to some, made sure I knew them well. Her 38-year-old boyfriend talked dirty to me, and the 36-year-old boyfriend did drugs with me, while we were living with him. He was a big mess, but not abusive. However, as soon as she got tired of him she claimed he beat her. She claimed he was abusive so that everyone would pity her. But, she was a liar. He never hurt her. I would have seen it, I would have known. Once again, she had made me question my entire life.

I know about everyone she hates though there aren't many. Now whether it was authentic or a horrible attempt at making me feel sympathy for her, I truly didn't know. I hate knowing everything and having been forced to be her diary, being forced to let her live through me, but she changed me to be what her idea of a kid was. It wasn't a kid at all. She refused to fix any of her problems, no matter how hard I tried to help her, she just wanted to be responsibility-free forever, and I got in the way of that, so she made me her excuse to act like a child. She forced herself to puke and bragged about it. Talking about how much weight she could lose and how quickly. It gave me my sort of eating disorder of feeling strong or like I achieved something by how much I was able to puke up. Still to this day, it's some stupid competition in my head. Drugs are her favorite, they were then too. At Least then it was just Benzos, weed, and hallucinogens. I was the only one who knew, that was stressful, keeping that secret. She constantly made me be someone I wasn't, and she forced me to be someone else for my dad. But I never did know who I was. There was "party secret keeper" me and there was "the most innocent child to exist" me, but I never knew who "me" was without being forced to put on an act one way or another.

chapter 3: The worst of you.

You broke my heart, but I should have known it was coming. It was too often that I looked into your pretty green-blue ocean eyes just to find them glazed over in a drug-induced haze. The last month with you made up for the years of torture. The torture of not knowing where you were or who you were with. Watching you burst into nothing but rage because you couldn’t find your next fix. I never wanted anything but to save you. And when you offered to be sober so long as I was, of course, I took you upon it. I thought you meant it, though I always had my doubts. 3 am is when most of our story was told. You called me every morning at 3, without a doubt, I could always expect that.

July 21st, 2017.

Time 3:00 am

I wake up in your arms and lay there silently as I’m sure you dream peaceful dreams that match the calm state of your face, I still see the shadow of mental exhaustion under your eyes. I breathe slowly, as to not disrupt your sweet dreams. I love you.

July 22nd, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You open your beautiful ocean blue-green eyes to start the beginning of your new adventure. Our fingers intertwined, our eyes locked as if we couldn’t look away. I couldn't ask for a better feeling. I love you.

July 23rd, 2017

Time 3:00 am

The scent of chocolate fills the room. It happens to be your favorite drink, surprisingly, hot chocolate, a drink no one would expect someone like you to like. A half-smile spreads across your face, the smile that tells me at this moment you’re happy. I love you.

July 24th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

I hold you close, but maybe not close enough, feeling the warmth and comfort of your body against mine made me happy though. You make me feel complete. I love you.

July 25th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You wake me up with a small forehead kiss. You seem to be happy today. That makes me smile. I love you.

July 26th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

The ring sits perfectly on my finger. With it, I promise you I’ll be okay, and I’ll follow our dreams. You have to leave soon, but I don't want you to leave. I never do. I love you.

August 5th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You're restlessly tossing and turning, I’m sure you haven't slept yet, you’re still withdrawing. I lean over and put my arm across you and place my body against yours. I worry because I wake up to the sound of you crying every time we sleep together. I try to pull you into me and you rest your head on my chest and quietly sob, pretending you’re just sleeping so I won’t notice. You’re stuck in this terrible life. I’m sorry. I love you.

August 6th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

Laying on the couch. I could see you staring at the wall, I felt you caressing my hand, softly. You kiss my cheek softly and then give me a warm smile. I see the pain in your eyes. It shatters my soul more every single second I look at you. You have to leave again soon. I want you to stay with me. I love you.

August 7th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You look like you've been crying for hours. I'm afraid you’re not okay again. I know you won’t tell me. I love you

August 8th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

you tell me that you don't want to get out of bed today. You tell me that you love me and that you're gonna be okay. I should know better but I believe you because I want to. I love you.

August 9th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

You look like you’re on drugs again, but you won’t tell me that. Your face is pale and you’re always shivering. I love you.

August 10th, 2017

Time 3:00 am

I have yet to see you smile. You look at me over video chat and I know that you're fighting it, you can’t wait to congratulate me on one month of sobriety, and I can’t wait to congratulate you. In-person. Your kisses are always soft but lately, they have a chill to them. The warmth from you has disappeared, I’m worried that you want drugs again. You told me “I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not.” That makes me feel better. Maybe a party will cheer you up, I have a surprise planned for you tonight. I love you.

August 11, 2017

Time 6:00 am

You died at 1:53 am

I tried to wake you up but you don't stir. The party went silent. The pain in my chest is excruciating. I shook you and your rubber-banded bag fell to the floor. I hugged you harder as if it could bring you back. There is nothing I could do but cry. 15 minutes later I dialed 9-1-1 but I couldn’t speak, I cried so hard that no sound could even come out anymore. The sobs were so quiet they were loud. The ambulance got there, they put you on a stretcher. At first, I refused to let go of you, holding onto your hand, hugging your body with mine as if I could give you the life in me. It was so cold. D.O.A. I love you... The bed feels empty with you gone. The couch feels too big without you next to me. And the porch swing looks like a grave. I can’t go to the party house anymore. My hands feel cold without yours in them. I cried all night. The tears stopped coming out after a while, but I still sobbed. Your scent fills my nose and I cry more. I could have saved you. I'm empty without you. I should have known better. Your last words haunt me. I’m not sober anymore, I’m sorry. The note you left, I don’t think I can ever read it. I love you.

August 3rd, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I had a dream about you. You looked so happy, your wings matched your darkness. But Seeing your smile, your real one, made me feel good, so good that you are no longer only a dark spot in my memory.

August 5th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I made your favorite, hot chocolate, and a bacon peanut butter sandwich. I wish you had a grave, but they turned you to ash and put you god knows where. Even though you aren't here, the universe still reminds me of you. Even though I know you won't be waking up this time. I love you.

August 10th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I went to our spot today. I cried when I got home, I hurt so bad. I miss you more than anything. I love you. It's almost been a year.

August 11th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

The first anniversary of losing you. I refuse to accept that you’re gone. Just tell me you’re coming for me. Tell me you’re in some 3rd world country just hiding out like we always talked about, and you’re gonna come find me when I’m 18. I want this to all be a bad dream.

August 12th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

It's getting too hard to sleep. I slept in one of your t-shirts. It smelled just like your favorite cologne. I held it just like I would have held you. I love you. I miss you.

August 13th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

Your mom called to make sure I was okay, your parents are back in New England now. They miss you, it hurt to hear her cry. I guess she did love you in her way. I love you.

August 14th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I'm going crazy without you. This isn’t allowed to be real. I miss you. I miss your smell. I want you back. I love you.

August 15th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I visited our spot again yesterday. Remember what you told me? “I’ll always be here for you whether I’m physically present or not”. Those words haunt me, you spoke them the day before left me forever. I should have known. I wish I knew. Maybe then I could have saved you. I love you.

August 16th, 2018

Time 3:00 am

I can't stand being without you anymore. I love you.

August 11th, 2019

Time 3:00 am

It’s been two years. I miss you more than I ever thought was humanly possible. Please come back. I think I’m in love again. It scares me, but I know you’d like him.

August 12th, 2019

Time 3:00 am

No one gets that you weren’t the best thing in the universe, that you were an asshole sometimes, you weren’t always a good person. But you were good. You made life something more than it was and you showed me who I could be. You showed me who I am, in your own fucked up way that included you dying. And for that, I owe you.

August 3rd, 2020

Time 3:00 am

I've finally read the note you left me. I read it over and over. I’m crying so much writing this I can’t even see. Come back. I miss you. I love you.

August 5th, 2020

Time 3:00 am

Why did you have to go and do that? This all must be a fucking joke. I love you.

August 8th, 2020

Time 3:00 am

The day that marks 3 years since you left me is coming up quickly. I don’t want it to come. I don’t want it to happen. I don’t want to accept this. I miss our talks at our spot. I love you.

August 11th, 2020

Time 1:53 am

It’s been 3 years. Today is terrible. Come back. I love you.

I guess your anger is just as much a part of your story as your love. You loved me, that much everyone who knew you knew, but you had a funny way of showing it sometimes. The drugs clouded your memory, or at least you wanted me to think they did. Like the time you shot at someone who stole off of you. Your excuse was being high, but not until you knew how much it scared me. I’m not sure what you thought would happen had you shot him, but I don’t think you cared regardless. Maybe you always knew what you were doing, and you were too tired to control yourself. No matter what, a part of me will always be infatuated with you and a piece of my heart will always belong to you. Our story is one I can never forget, but as time goes on I see more flaws, I find more wrongdoings, and I learn to love you less.

Chapter 4

How have we gotten to this point? I woke up today in a great mood, but of course, Nicole couldn’t allow that. It’s been months since I spoke to her, but she’s pinned my best friend and his mother against me. She and her so-called husband say I told them I was going to turn them in. My best friend who deals drugs, and his mother who condones it and takes part. I know what you’re thinking, why the fuck are you, friends, with these people? Quite frankly, I don’t know, I guess I always have been. My best friend, Aaron, was the first guy I ever had a crush on. He was the only person who showed up to my 13th birthday party and he never did me wrong. He took my weed virginity, and he stuck up for me. He didn’t let kids bully me, though they sure tried. He didn’t back down, sometimes it felt like he was the only person on my side. If it weren’t for him my middle school experience would not have been nearly as mediocre as it was. At some points in life, he was all I had, and still, to this day, I can go to him with whatever and he does his best to help. Though, ever since Nicole started her bullshit and I told the police about her abuse, she has been trying to sway him to take her side. She’s good at doing that, she knows how to manipulate just about anyone. She had our entire family fooled for years, had them convinced she wasn’t a terrible person or on drugs.

I guess now is a good time to bring up Josh, the man who took my virginity, if you want to put it that nicely. By that I mean the 19-year-old who forcibly had sex with 13-year-old me, whilst I was high on pills in Victoria’s closet. Victoria was my BFF, we did everything together, mostly drugs. Sometimes random friends of friends would stay at her house, and one time we made a huge mistake. I still remember the feeling, being dragged from bed and onto the ground, through the closet doors. I can still hear how loud the sliding door shut. I remember how it felt, my clothes being ripped off of me, sloppily and just good enough for him to get to where he wanted. He clasped his hand around my throat to keep me pinned down as if I wasn’t already paralyzed by the pills he offered me. Surely I took them, I was too high to know better. I didn’t feel anything, but that was the torture of it. I knew what was happening, and I was unable to stop it. My body was motionless, but he got off on it. His evil grin and cold eyes are permanently ingrained in my brain, I’ll never forget his face because that’s all I could look at. I’ll never forget it because I’m forced to remember. Good thing I never felt it, I’m sure that would be a whole other nightmare. I’m sure you’re wondering how this relates to Nicole, but let me tell you, I told her about the invasion of my body, and she doubted me. I told her what happened and she told me I was wrong. She told me I wasn’t that high, I could have stopped it if I didn’t want it. She told me I wanted it. I the 13-year-old, of course, believed my mom, only to figure out it was sexual assault 2 years later. Nicole of course did absolutely nothing, as per usual. She could have saved me that night. I called her, I wanted to go home because I didn’t feel safe and I thought I was too high, she came and saw me, she told all the people there I was fine, even went as far as saying I was faking it. Maybe she’s the reason I got raped that night, maybe he took my silence as consent because he thought I was sober. Maybe he was rough because he thought my silence meant I liked it. Maybe I only imagined saying stop, perhaps it never came out of my mouth. Or perhaps my pleas to stop convinced him to continue. How could I know anyways? I was in a drug-fueled haze, maybe I remember wrong and I never said stop. I guess that’s the downfall of getting high, you never know what happened. Everything is foggy and the details are blurry. It’s like trying to remember a dream after you wake up, you wonder what happened and the longer you’re awake the blurrier the memory gets. The longer you’re sober, the blurrier your high adventures become. Just because I’ve been thinking about this long enough to write it down, anxiety is jolting through my veins. It starts at the back of my throat, pushing its way up from the inside out, a sting that becomes so much more. The line between what is fear and what is real is becoming blurrier by the second. It feels as if my words are stuck in my throat, stopping me from screaming, from letting my feelings out. This is my brain's way of telling me my words aren’t worth much right now, quite frankly it’s not wrong. He tore my soul to pieces as my pleas ran through his mind as “convince me” “keep going” “I like it”. I can still see his cold, hungry eyes in my dreams sometimes. Imagining his face sends shivers down my spine as I continually play what he did to me over and over again as if something could change the more I think into it. He broke me, crushed my being, my soul, and outright stole my voice. I can’t possibly continue to look at myself in disgust over this man, because it is he who should rot, not me. I’m worth more than becoming the perfect victim, I choose to be a victor. Sometimes I don't think I can do it, my motivation is wanting to be further in life than anyone who has ever hurt me, and I'm already there.

Chapter 5: The Man Who Loved Me Once

The man who loved me once, the one who broke my heart into pieces. Leo tore me to pieces, but I thought I was in love with him. It took a month in a psychiatric facility to conclude that he never loved me. I was 15 with a 21-year-old man. He convinced me it was okay along with Nicole constantly praising me for it. “Damn haha you are just like me”

February 3rd, 2018

I told him to stop, I told him no. I told him I didn't want to do this. I begged and pleaded but that meant nothing to him. He didn't stop, he didn't understand “no”, my begs and pleads for him to stop rang through his ears as “convince me”. His right hand roamed my body, It made me shiver. His left hand went between covering my mouth to shut me up, and pushing me back up against the brick wall. He kissed my lips roughly to silence me, pushing me hard against the wall. His fingers scratched into my skin, making me squirm. I couldn't move much though, the pills he put in my drink prevented me from doing that, what a lovely redo of the last man who hurt me. This one at least did not do it with people around, though it was dark, we were in a public place. He called me baby girl and told me "I am going to fuck you so good". I showered 3 times today, and no one questioned it. I did not eat anything for a few days, and no one questioned it. Maybe you did not mean to hurt me, maybe you thought I liked it. I still love you.

February 27th, 2018

He hit me today, it's not the first time. Hell, it is not even the second or third time, honestly, I have lost count. He loves me. He apologized and then we cuddled and watched a movie. He will change, I know I can fix him. He never means to hurt me. He is a good man and people do not want to try to understand. I have to cover the bruises, good thing it is winter and I can wear a hoodie every day. He makes me sad but he does not mean it. He loves me and I know it.

March 15th, 2018

Today he took me to meet his parents. I had to lie and say I was 18. I pretended I was in college. He made me. He just did not want his parents to give him shit like they always do. He said it was fine that we had an age difference. I trust him, I would do anything for him. I love him.

March 28th, 2018

Today he tried to drown me. It was my fault. I remember passing out and waking up with no clothes. I guess he put them in the dryer because they were wet. He wasn't himself when he did it, I am sure there is just something going on mentally. I can fix him. I can help him. I know he loves me. I know he can get help, I want to help him.

April 3, 2018

I saw him today, our visit was cut short because Nicole wanted me to come home. She knows about him and me, she just missed me because I have been at friends’ houses and with Leo all week. He was pretty mean today, he grabbed me by the throat and I am beginning to think that he needs more help than I can give him. My throat is sore and it is bruised on the side. I will have to wear my hair down. He loves me so much that the pain is worth it. I do not want to lose him. The way he strokes my hair and holds me, while he is apologizing after he has done something that harmed me is so sweet. I love it when he buys me flowers and sometimes he is good for a while. The pain is worth it for the love.

April 8th, 2018

He raped me. He put a glass bottle inside of me, and my vagina bled. He got me drunk, and we started making out, then he fucked me, relentlessly, roughly. He bruised me. In between my legs. My dad picked me up, it was the worst experience of my life. I still love him and I do not want to anymore. I am being punished for it because Nicole will not tell my dad she knew everything. I am being punished for being raped. I am broken. I need help.

April 24th, 2018

I spent nearly a month in a psychiatric facility, it has helped me a lot. My roommate was awesome. I had a nurse in there, a youngish, beautiful, and kind African American woman, she is the reason I am still alive. I am so grateful to have met that woman and another one of the therapists there. It has helped me so incredibly much. I hate that I am still being punished for being raped because I was not, not allowed there. I had permission. I did not do anything without my mom's permission, yet she and my dad punished me for being raped. As in it was my fault. As if I did it to myself. How was I supposed to know any better with Nicole telling me it was okay? I have grown to hate my dad, I make sure he knows it and I feel no remorse for what I say. He sucks and I wish I was just with my mom. I still love Leo, but he never loved me, except once.

I have grown so much since then. I used to think so highly of Nicole. I thought it was awesome to have a mom that helps you sneak around and break rules. I thought so highly of her and I wanted to be exactly like her. I wanted to smoke and drink and be high all of the time because I thought it was so cool. I thought it was normal at that. I just could not realize that she was no good. My dad was the only one who wanted what was best for me, and still to this day he does. He was the one who saw how poorly I was doing and made an effort towards getting me better. He did not even know half of it and from the time he found out and forward, he gave me all of the acceptance and care and love I needed. I regret ever being so mean to him. I know you are wondering what the hell I said to him, so I will make a list.

-I hate you

-You are a terrible dad

-I will never speak to you again

-You are the reason I am so messed up

-I never want to see you again, you suck and I fucking hate you, don't you dare tell me to watch my mouth, you don't get to tell me what to do because you aren't my dad anymore {then I called him by his first name}

-I do not want you in my life

I hate myself for the things I said to my dad. He is one of the kindest, most caring, and genuinely good human beings I know. He does everything he can to make sure my sisters and I can have what we want. He has a job therefore a steady income. He gets us any reasonable thing we want. I am so lucky to have a dad like him because not everyone gets a good dad, I love my dad. He and I finally have an amazing father, daughter relationship and I feel so much better. I wish I never said those hurtful awful things to him, I wish that Nicole never ingrained my brain with lies about him making him seem bad. Now my sisters are saying very similar but even meaner hurtful things to my dad. He does so well for them and they hate him because Nicole is good at brainwashing.

Dad, if you are reading this, I want you to know, it was never your fault for anything that happened. You could not have known, Nicole manipulates well. I love you and you are an awesome dad.

My mind is in a muddle. I can not seem to think straight for some reason. Nicole manipulated me so much I question my trauma. she told my dad and me that I faked being raped so I would not be in trouble. When I went to the party, she said it was real for a while, until it was no longer convenient for her to use. "My poor baby, I feel so bad seeing my daughter shower 5 times a day". Then when it was not getting her attention anymore, she said I was lying.

I wish I knew what to do with the thoughts that are flooding my brain right now. Once you become happy, and you come to be at peace with yourself, you can be okay. However, your demons stick with you forever. Once an addict, always an addict, but that does not make you a bad person. It shows how strong you are when you get sober. Your demons follow you, but you can restrain them, you can imprison them and throw them into the back of your brain. That alone makes you a survivor. Being a victim of rape and having PTSD is just the same. It is hard to suppress the memories, and it is even harder to work through them, but it is possible, I know it is because I am doing it. Your demons follow you, you have to realize that they do not own you.

Nicole is part of the reason I am mentally ill. I hate her for that. I hate her for many things. I wish her the worst. However, I am not going to let her win. I do not hate her, I hate what she did, I hate the way she groomed me into her idea of a good daughter. I hate how she manipulated me into believing my dad was no good, and he drank too much and he ignored us on the weekends for shooting/hunting. I regret not letting my dad have a relationship with me for years. She is not winning this one. I hate everything she did, but I will leave it to someone else to hate her because I am sure other people do.

I have always been in love with Leo, but as time passes by, I realize that nothing he did was good or okay. He was only ever "nice" to manipulate me. I wish I had known then what I know now. I am slowly getting over him and trying to ignore the intrusive thoughts about him. He was like a drug, and I got addicted.

My current boyfriend is amazing, and I could not have asked for someone better.

Chapter 6: This Is Today

Hypomania can be nice, I was hypomanic for like a month, keyword fucking “was”. I’d like to clear the misconception that mania means you’re happy, it doesn’t. I can’t be confrontational right now because no matter what it’s about I’m approaching it like a fight even if you’re approaching it like a discussion. It’s one hell of a fucking high and if you’ve ever done hard drugs you know that it’s usually not good the whole time you’re on a binge after a week or so. You know it’s more intense the more you do and the less you can function. Mania is such an intense thing that it makes you feel like you are on drugs when you aren’t, and as someone who used to do a lot of them, that’s scary, because it brings back so many memories, and for me, that fuels the mania more, it is just feeding the fire. Okay, so imagine like a 2-month long drug binge or drinking (alcohol) binge with the given random withdrawals and mood swings, The comedowns, and the intense parts where you think you’re on top of the world and life could not possibly get better.. Okay? Now imagine having no control over when you feel like you’re coming down when you feel high or drunk when you feel hungover when you are high or drunk at all. Imagine 24/7 constant torture of not knowing what’s next. Don’t fucking romanticize mania, don’t romanticize this. Here I am, in my bathtub, with a bottle of cheap vodka that tastes more like the smell of hand sanitizer than any alcohol at all, and I’m on 2 bars of Xanax (I was coming up on a year sober). Here I am, hot water pouring onto my trembling body in hope that it will ease my trembling, it feels like I’ve been in here for days and it’s only been hours, yet all of my tears are gone. I’ve drained myself of tears and I can’t seem to cry anymore. It's just a dull sob, heavy breathing, shaky hands, a blotchy face, and a trembling body. You think my symptoms would be numbed but I feel like they’re more lifelike now. I feel trapped within them, as if they own me, just like he owned me. I wish I could say he never did but for a while there I was stuck in his abyss. I haven’t slept in way too fucking long. Yes, I am on meds, no they are not working. I’m talking to my psychiatrist as soon as I can. Last night and these past few hours(it’s 3:48 a.m.) have been terrible, I’ve been up talking and pacing and shaking and crying all night in utter paranoia full of what I'm self-aware enough to know are only delusions, going from laughter to crying excessively to panic attacks that feel like the end of the world, to pouring my heart out to a girl I’ve been friends with for a week and telling her all of my trauma(shout out to you dude thank you) to trying to buy fucking animals(specifically a monkey) off of the Internet. Even though I only collectively have $6.00. Mania is embarrassing yourself publicly or even just within your household and not fucking remembering what you did or how you did it or why. Mania is bad life choices and excessive cleaning and exhaustion and impulsivity, for example: “wanna get drunk” yeah I’m drunk rn but sure why not. “Wanna have sex?” Yeah okay “ I don’t have a condom” that’s cool just pull out or don’t I don’t care. Mania is hurting the people you love because they can see how lost you are and how broken you are and how you can’t see that you need help. Mania is researching, stalking, fucking obsessively trying to find your abuser/rapist on the internet because you’re curious as to how he’s doing. Mania is trying to convince everyone around you that you’re fine because you want to be fine because you don’t want it to happen again until you’re so not fine you can’t avoid it anymore. Sometimes you just get stuck in fucking mania and you can’t get out. Sometimes you get hypomanic and start a book then as it progresses into mania you write more and more *cough* me *cough*.

Life has never exactly been easy, and I’ve always had difficulties concluding that nothing that’s happened is my fault, and truly it is not. However, blaming myself has always been easier than blaming everyone else. In complete honesty, Nicole ruined so much of my life and damaged my psyche. The way I view the world will never be innocent, my innocence is gone and I’m not sure I could get it back if I tried to. How much of my life would have been different had I not been an addict? What if Nicole never was abusive? What if I was never raped? What if I did fewer drugs? What if I never told my dad about Nicole? I could go on with the questions, but that probably won’t get us anywhere. It’s funny to think of who I could have become. Maybe I would be a sheltered little bitch with no sense of humor or sense of self. Maybe I would still to this day be a drug addict. The what if’s don’t matter, because they are simply that, what if’s. They don’t mean anything, but my past means everything. I don’t hold grudges against anyone for anything, I try not to hate, but I do strongly dislike Nicole. I do wish she wasn’t such a raging bitch. I wish she could just stop being a piece of shit. I wish my life wasn’t destroyed, yet I am beyond thankful for how beautifully broken I am.

I'll have such loud intrusive thoughts that they feel like voices. It's like there are two people in my head sometimes 3 or 4, constantly talking over one other, and then me trying to get them to stop long enough for me to hear myself think. I will also have snippets of words, phrases, phantom sounds, or music. I begin to hear whole words, phrases, even random sounds, and parts of songs. Sometimes I don’t even know the songs. “Just shut up, no one likes you”

“do it anyway, don’t be a pussy”

“they’ll think you’re crazy, be careful who you tell”

“secret secret secret”

“stop thinking about him”

“don’t stop thinking about it”

I’m sure the thoughts, the voices I’m hearing don’t sound all that terrible, but they are. You’re probably wondering why I let them bother me.

Just imagine constantly hearing the same things over and over and over and instead of letting the voice become a redundant muttering, it becomes more meaningful every time you hear it. They become more hurtful. They become louder with every waking breath. This form of existence is painful. The world wants me to be the same thing I want to be, but I don’t know if this is even me.

I struggle a lot with that. It makes me feel like I led two lives and honestly you’re one of the only people who heard about a lot of my “high adventures” I’ll call them, and I do apologize for telling you about me doing drugs and stuff, you were too young to be hearing about that(you aren’t too young now). However, because I am an addict I’ve made a lot of mistakes. And I did drugs to cope with my existence and how secret I had to keep anything that had to do with Nicole.

The voices in my head won’t shut up. They scream and yell, and go in circles taking turns talking, seeing who can be the loudest. My head is constantly racing. There is constantly something going on in my head. I just want it all to stop. The only things to drown them out are drugs. Maybe I will start taking benzos again, that calmed them last time.

[no-identification-required]

I wanted to say...

I had a very important realization today, and I felt the need to share it. I feel it’s something that applies to you, as well as to me. So please, think about what I have to say as thoroughly as you can, learn what you will from it, and derive your own opinion about it. I will not comment on this, beyond the initial post, and as such will not argue with or attempt to refute any comments made here, and I ask that the same respect be given to any who do choose to share their views as well. I want everyone to feel free and comfortable to share their own views and associated experiences.

All that being said, id like to start by saying this is an issue I’ve been struggling with for a long time. Nearly a decade.

You see, I had a grandfather who I loved to death, he was awesome and super funny, and he was my favorite. We were really close. He was a war vet, and he taught me a lot about things like courage and honor. If he ever saw a man or woman in uniform he would go out of his way to do something kind for them, thank them for their service, pay for their meal, etc. He was a good man.

He was not without his flaws though. He was a bit perverted, and nearly all his choice films and shows had sex and nudity. So, even though he was pretty good about not indulging when I was around. When I was 11, I started to notice what movies and things he had around the house, and I got curious. So I got on google on his computer in the basement.

That’s how it started. An addiction that I have been struggling to overcome for the last decade of my life. I know some would argue that porn and masturbation aren’t bad things necessarily. They even would argue that such behavior is normal and healthy. So I’d like to explain why it’s a bad thing, in my experience.

You see, it’s not just that it’s offensive to women or contrary to the will of God or whatever you’re used to hearing, even though those things may be true. The reality of the matter, in my experience, is that it is destroying me.

What started as simple curiosity became an obsession. I kept going back, looking for more, and back then, being 11, I wasn't very sneaky, I didn't know how to delete search history etc. So I got caught fairly easily and quickly. As a consequence, my behavior stopped for a time.

Fast forward a couple years, and curiosity gets the better of me again, only this time, I'm smarter about it. Sneakier. I had heard about kids at school who knew how to delete browser histories, so I figured it out for myself. Once I knew how to get away with it, it was too much of a temptation to see if I actually could. To test it out.

It did work. For years no one knew what I was doing. I knew it was bad, based off of my parents reaction when they found out the first time, but I didn't realize it was a destructive and addictive behavior. I started to struggle more at school, as I was dedicating less and less time to school work and more and more time to self gratifying behaviors. That's the thing, it such a powerful stimulus that it trains the brain to seek out any forum of gratification it can find, and that drive begins to take priority. Over school, over friends, over family.

I was becoming a worse person, and around the age of 15- 16 I realized that. I decided I wanted to stop. I realized my behavior was disgusting. That what I was doing was not something I wanted to be doing anymore, and who I was be coming was not in line with my goals. So that was the decision I made. No more porn, no more masturbation. I was gonna quit cold turkey.

But my resolve lasted a couple of days, maybe, and I feel back into the same habits and behavior. I struggled to overcome for weeks, which would turn into months, with little victories measured in streaks of a few days at most.

That's when I got scared. I realized it was something I couldn't beat on my own, but there was so much shame and guilt in that. So much shame in what I was doing, so much shame in the inability to stop. I was ashamed of my weakness. Other boys could control themselves, why couldn't I? I couldn't imagine what my mom would think, or how she would react if she found out. Or any of my fríliends and family for that matter. I felt so hopeless and helpless. That despair... It was dark. My self-confidence took a massive hit. I stopped looking at myself as a normal fun loving guy, and started seeing a failure, a weakling, a pathetic and disgusting excuse for a person.

Finally, I broke. I needed to talk, I needed help. So I told my mom, and bless her soul she was there for me. She didn't disown me or think any less of me, she was ready and willing to help, and after many tears I knew I would never, ever, do it again. I asked her to change the passwords on the computer, and to take away my phone. Until I felt I could be trusted again..

And it worked...

For a whole 3 and a half weeks.

Turns out, after years of exposure to explicit videos and images, you don't need access to any materials. They're imprinted on your mind, and you can't get rid of them.

You can't escape them.

And, in my case, they were far more powerful than I was.

That's another thing. No one ever warns you how addictive this stuff is. I remember as a child in elementary school they had this program where they taught us about drugs and alcohol and how bad they were and how the best thing to do was to never take or try those things In the first place because it was destructive and could kill us. I made a promise in my little, innocent heart that I would never touch those things, because I knew I would become addicted and it would hurt me and those I love. To date I have been faithful to that promise made by that little guy.

But no one said anything about porn. I didn't even know what that was, let alone that it is so addictive, yet accessible. More acceptable to some, then drugs and alcohol, because, at least you can't O.D. On porn right? It can't kill you, right? So by that logic, it's harmless, and it's ok.

What no one ever says though, what no one ever mentions is the self loathing that comes with it. That crippling self hate and doubt, that leads to anxiety and depression. No one mentions how it feels when you realize one day you'll have to look in your wives' eyes and tell her. No one ever tells you to think about what that pain I her eyes will look like, or how that will affect your relationship. No one ever taught me that it may not stop my heart, but it would kill who I was and who I wanted to be.

I used to be outgoing and charismatic. A natural leader of sorts. Now, I struggle to forum friendships, and when I walk into a room I hide in a corner, trying not to be noticed. Now when I'm walking down the street and I see a cute girl, instead of smiling and waving I look away in shame, feeling like a pervert and a creep for just thinking she looks nice. I fear she'll see me for what I am.

Heck, I can't even trust myself on a date. I haven't had my first kiss because I'm afraid that if I let myself do anything actually physical that I won't be able to stop myself. If I can't stop myself with a phone how could I stop myself with a real person?

Yeah, no one tells you that. At least, not til it's far far too late.

When I was 17 I was back I to the full swing of things, my mom had given me the password to the computer again, and a brand new smartphone, and I was worse than I had ever been. Thats when I read an article about how porn kills love. Apparently, with all the dopamine and hormones and chemicals involved, it creates more receptors for such things, creating an insatiable appetite. One that is unsatisfied by the real deal. So, a person who uses porn is chemically unable to experience real sex and love the same way a non porn user does. It's because we become accustomed to similar sensations, and so we seek harder and harder stuff to continue getting the same essential "high."

When I read that, a little part of me died. I could no longer even love my future wife and family as I ought to be able to do. As they deserve. Because I'm too weak. Too undisciplined. Too irresponsible. Too...

The list goes on, and the hate goes deeper.

I lost all hope.

I lost all semblance of hope of becoming the kind of person I had always dreamed to be.

When I was 18 going on 19, things changed. I gripped more firmly to my religion, and dedicated myself to studying and teaching for a couple of years, and the process wasn't immediate, but after the 1st year or so, I finally did it. I got clean. I was free!

I felt more happy than I had in a long time, more confident. I felt strong. I felt like a real man. I started stepping up again and doing more leader-like things. I was disciplined, smart, and capable. I had a real hope for my future again for the first time in nearly half my short life span.

It was glorious.

And it ended, hard, and suddenly.

When I finally came back to the real world, in preparation for college and things, all that self control and strength and confidence crumbled apart like a dry cake within a couple of weeks.

Because I started using again.

For the life of me I couldn't understand it. How could I be so weak? So stupid? So utterly incapable? God had given me freedom, had forgiven me, had given me strength, and I threw it away like it was trash.

How can my actions, to date, be so contrary to my ideals? To my wishes and desires?

I pray and beg for freedom. To be changed. To be better. To be who God wants me to be. Surely he has all power, and he wants me to stop as much as I do, if not more so, so why doesn't he intervene and do something? Anything?

I feel like I've done all I can do in my power, so isn't this the point he's supposed to step in and save the day???

My prayers, my questions, went unanswered.

Until today.

I went to my first day of college religious institute. I missed the actual first day. I was struggling to find the class and as the time for the class approached, and I still wasn't finding it, I got really, really, scared. Some form of anxiety, but I was worried about where I would sit. If I came in late all the seats would be taken and I couldn't sit somewhere where I wouldn't be noticed. Instead, if I went in late, everyone would look at me, and I'd be forced to sit next to people I don't know. So I chickened out 5 minutes before the class, figured I'd be far too late once I actually found it, and left.

I felt defeated, cowardly, weak, and angry at myself. Not that any of that is new.

But then today I tried again, I figured through process of elimination where the room more or less ought to be, and I got in early and got a good seat in the back corner.

When the teacher started class he started talking about God as the great Creator and designer of all things, stuff very familiar to me. He talked about God's attention to detail and his love of variety etc. Then he flipped it on us, talked about how God created us and how we are each masterpieces in progress. But then he said something, something that caused the entire world for me to pause. Something that clicked. Something that filled me with a little spark of hope.

What he said is the following quote from a former religious world leader, Thomas S. Monson

"God left us the world unfinished for man to work his skill upon. He left the electricity in the cloud, the oil in the earth. He left the rivers unbridged and the forests unfelled and the cities unbuilt. God gives to man the challenge of raw materials, not the ease of unfinished things. He leaves the pictures unpainted and the music unsung and the problems unsolved, that man might know the joys and glories of creation."

And something whispered to me. God sometimes leaves me unfinished, especially in this case. Sure, he could finish this work, but what would that do? Make a righteous little minion? No, he has a better plan than that. He wants me to feel the joy of this victory, of figuring out how to use the tools he's provided to shape myself. He'll help me and guide me, I'm sure, but he's also excited and anxious to see how and what I'll do to win this fight of mine.

He hasn't abandoned me, he doesn't hate me for what I have become or what I have done.

Rather, he has trusted me with a job. A challenge. A problem to be solved. So once I'm done, I'll be someone who was strong enough to actually win this fight. Smart enough to solve the problem. Brave enough to do what it takes.

So, I'm still unfinished. I've still got a problem. But there's a little spark of hope, heck, even a little excitement as I think, how will I do it? Maybe it will take therapy, maybe I'll meet someone who will teach me a thing or two, who knows? God does apparently, and that's comforting, because yes, I've got a monster of a problem, but I've got God's assistance and trust to make something of myself.

I felt compelled to share this. I feel someone might need to hear this. I'm still in the thick of things, but I've found a hope. So maybe there's someone out there who's in the same situation, looking for that same hope.

I pray this finds them because maybe, just maybe, this might be the whole purpose behind all of this.

Thank you for reading, I know it was long, but I do feel it is important. All of the views here are of course, from my own limited experience, and many may disagree with a number of things I have said. That is ok. This is simply my story, which is not yet over. I certainly have much left to learn.

But I do hope that something in what I have written will be of benefit to you, as a lesson, or a warning, or at least an example of some kind.

God bless you my friends.

[samaraclegane]

prompt: they're in high school and in an unofficial relationship. one of them suddenly gets a secret admirer, who throws him love letters in his locker. the rest is up to you - if you like the prompt.

-although Steve was pretty rude to Tommy and Carol, people still respect him and (of course) think he’s cute. This isn’t really a problem for anyone, until he and Billy finally get up the courage to get together - not just sex, not no feelings, but the lot of it - but can’t go public because of homophobes and such.

-even still, this isn’t so much of an issue, up until valentine’s day. Steve’s at his locker, ready to pretty much empty his bag into it at this point, when he sees it: the little, white note, which he knows immediately is a love note when he reads it. A little embarrassed, he hides it in the back of his locker, and hopes to whatever god there is or isn’t that it just goes away.

-it doesn’t.

-one day, Billy’s at his locker with him, after quietly offering to help him carry his stuff (because he’s had home economics and gym today, so what sort of boyfriend wouldn’t?). When Steve opens it up, however, another little piece of paper falls out and, unfortunately, Billy doesn’t miss it. Trying to be nonchalant, Steve starts packing away his things, pretending to have not seen it, but Billy isn’t having any of it.

“what the fuck is this?” he shoves the paper up towards Steve, who looks blankly at it. “I fuckin’ knew it.”

-with Steve barely able to hold a coherent thought let alone form a sentence, he can only watch Billy stalk away, still holding onto the paper and his chem book, though he doesn’t really care about that now.

-Billy spends the remainder of the school day mulling things over in his head, with one recurring thought: he can’t believe he’s let his guard down again, for nothing. He’s so bad that he can’t even conjure a single decent insult to throw at Max on the drive home - he just sits, quiet, until they arrive, and he doesn’t speak to anyone for the rest of the night.

-well, he tries not to.

-that night, when he can’t sleep at all, there’s a knock at his window.

-no, not a knock, but a single, sharp sound. then another. it’s almost like... it’s like there’s a handful of pebbles being chucked at the window and bouncing off.

-furrowing his brows, he goes to inspect, and throws open the window when he sees Steve ready to throw another

“christ, Harrington, could you be any more of a cliché?” he tries to sound his angriest, so Steve knows not to fuck around with him again, like he’d already done. “do you know what time it is?”

-”don’t challenge me.” he retorts, looking up at Billy who’s perched, leaning over his window frame down at him. “can I come in?”

-Billy knows he can't just stand outside. Neil doesn't sleep that heavily and if he sees an intruder in the back there's no doubt he'll shoot, so Billy reluctantly ushers him inside.

-trying to avoid looking at Steve as much as possible, Billy shuffles on his feet, and gestures in the general direction of his shelf. “your chem book is over there, I figure you’ll need it for tomorrow.”

-Steve stops and looks at him. Voice warm but serious, he says, “I’m not here for my book, Billy. I want to explain what that note was to you.”

-sitting him down, Steve explains that it was pretty much just like a secret admirer that he didn’t want. Naturally, Billy interrupts a bit, questioning some things he doesn’t quite understand, and Steve makes sure his qualms are all laid to rest by the time he finishes talking.

-'so, you mean...' Billy stops, pausing to look nervously at Steve, 'you're not actually cheating on me?'

-'what?' Steve's voice isn't mocking at all, but completely shocked. He shakes his head, 'No. I couldn't. Not ever.' -billy looks down and smirks, then feels incredibly stupid for having believed such a heinous thing.

-he thinks about the situation so much (primarily how he could have lost everything - lost Steve, most of all - and would have been back at square on, with his drinking, smoking, partying and hiding his sexuality from everybody, simply because he didn’t understand what was going on) he starts tearing up, and Steve sees.

-'hey, come on, man,' Steve stands, not stopping to think about his actions once, and pulls billy into his chest as he starts sobbing.

-Billy lets himself just completely release the waterworks. He knows Steve isn’t just doing this out of requirement. If he was, he wouldn't be there in the first place, he'd have moved on to sleeping with the admirer who’d left the note in his locker instead of trying to fix things with him, right now. Crying in a way so ugly even he can't picture what it looks like, hugging Steve so tightly he thinks he might just suffocate him, he thinks about how not-awkward this is.

-him, in Steve's arms, against his chest, listening to the steady beating of his heart, it feels... it feels like home. He’s never really known what that word means, but now, he thinks he just might be beginning to, even if he’s still learning.

-Steve waits for him to pull back first, then look up to him through matted eyelashes.

-there’s a hundred and one things billy wants to say to him right now. One thing that terrifies him more than the others, but he says nothing. Steve just runs a soothing hand through his hair, and hums to himself, until Billy's feeling more like himself and he stands suddenly quickly wiping his face, then makes Steve leave with a hand firmly on the base of his spine.

-back at the window, billy slaps his ass, making Steve look around and roll his eyes, but he’s smiling. He eyes up Billy briefly, before the latter drags him in by his collar and kisses him. It’s sweet, and something they don’t share often. To his own embarrassment, Billy thinks it’s almost even poetic, whatever that means.

-by the time Steve actually leaves, Billy’s grinning so wide, he thinks his face is going to crack at any minute. and he doesn't think he minds, because there are worse ways to go than thinking of Steve Harrington, and how lucky he is to be his boyfriend.

[el-borealis]

Whatever Floats Your Boat

Here is my Mileven Secret Santa for the lovely @midnightmillie! 

The prompt: “Whatever Floats Your Boat. Really, it’s okay.” Something taking place in summer. 

Stef, I hope you enjoy this summery, lake-side, word-nerdy fluff-fest! 

Read on AO3 

The chattering of Mike's friends filled the air around him. Their voices mixed with the sounds of lapping water and the birdsong that echoed from above. It all blended together in an oddly calming way, lulling Mike's mind into a state of rare and blissful quiet. Mike allowed his eyes to slip shut. He leaned his head back, took a deep breath, and stretched out his bare legs. The warm sunlight bathed his face with a hint of relief and a whisper of hope.

It was finally here. The first sensations of summer.

The tiny beach-like outcropping at the far end of Lover's Lake was the perfect place for such a day. Mrs. Byers said that the location had once been a popular spot for teens back in the 60s. Over the years, though, the makeshift trail had become overgrown, and thus it had been lost to the current generation of Hawkins High students. What remained was an almost impossible to detect inlet with a just-big-enough patch of sand, hidden from the rest of the lake by a crop of huge weeping willows. Lily pads and reeds crept from the water, creating an idyllic setting almost too perfect for the boring confines of Hawkins, Indiana.

The whole outing had been orchestrated by Mrs. Byers. Mike had heard her whispering persuasions to Hopper all throughout the spring. It had taken her weeks to convince Hopper to loosen the reins enough for just this single outing. And truly? It couldn't have come soon enough.

El had become increasingly lonely as the months had progressed. As the air had warmed and the world around them had awoken into spring, the rules of her seclusion had begun to break her spirit. It broke Mike's heart more than he cared to admit. For, there was only so much that a fourteen-year-old boy could do. Of course, he called her every single night. He smuggled her sweets and books and little hair accessories that he'd swiped from Nancy. He made sure to shoot Hopper snide looks whenever he drummed up the courage. More than anything, though, Mike worked as hard as he could to remind her (and himself) that this was all going to pass with time.

Mrs. Byers, though? She had been able to do more. And she had.

Mike made a mental note to thank her later, because on this day, surrounded by her friends and dappled in sunlight, El looked happy. Maybe that was why his brain was so blissfully quiet. Maybe it was the way the sun fell onto her, showcasing the golden flecks in her honey eyes in a way he had never seen before. Or, maybe it was the way her fingers lazily threaded through his in the sand, pumping his hand whenever she laughed at something that Max or Lucas said. Maybe it was her own words, spinning faster than Mike had ever heard her speak before, complete with a hint of confidence that was so incredibly hard earned.

Mike bit his teeth into his growing smile.

God, he was so proud of her.

He wished he could have recorded their very first talks, if only to play them back for her now. Sure, Mike still yammered for about 80% of their nightly talks, but increasingly, El had begun to add her own thoughts to the mix. Questions and answers, with opinions and jokes and ideas tossed in-between. El's unique sense of humor had materialized slowly throughout it all. She had a surprisingly dry and deadpan humor, one that always seemed to catch Mike off guard in the most delightful way. She had also shown herself to be highly opinionated, a trait only made more apparent as her vocabulary and confidence had grown. More than anything though, El was ceaselessly curious about the world. It was a trait they shared, and it made Mike's heart skip with hope for the potential of what could be.

Mike felt like he was unlocking El's personality piece by glorious piece, and he couldn't deny the effect it had on him. The tumbling feel that made him slip deeper and deeper into… a word even he didn't know how to say.

But that was a thought for another time...

Mike opened his eyes and shifted his gaze toward El once again. Her wavy hair was frizzy from the humidity. She had tied it half-up with a pink band that he had swiped for her from Nancy's room. She brushed some stray strands roughly from her face as she listened to Dustin drone on about a family of ducks on the other side of the shore.

After a moment, Dustin stood up and wiped his hands on his pants. He held his hand out to El.

"I'm going to go take a look at them," Dustin said. "Wanna come?"

"Um…" El stuttered, looking back at Mike for the first time in a few minutes. "I'll stay here. Is that… okay?"

Dustin shrugged, "Whatever floats your boat."

"Wh -"

Dustin waved his hand casually as he began to walk away, "Really, it's okay!"

Mike watched El curiously as El watched Dustin leave. That was when he saw it. The now familiar pattern. It played out like clockwork through her expressions. First, the sharp line appeared between her eyebrows. Then, she blinked three times in quick succession. Finally, her lips moved with no sound; the hints of fragmented words driving upon them.

Mike leaned close, "What is it?"

El twitched in surprise. She bit her lip and watched Dustin's retreating figure for another couple of seconds. She then turned slowly toward Mike. Her eyes were serious. Her voice, a low and worried whisper.

"M-mike," she stuttered. "I… I didn't bring a boat."

"...What?"

"He said I should… float my boat but…" her eyes snapped wide. "Was I supposed to bring a boat? I- I don't have a boat!"

"Oh!"

Mike worked fast to successfully bite back the laugh that shot to his lips so as to not embarrass her. "No, El. You don't need a boat. He um… That's just a phrase. Dustin said an idiom."

El stared at him blankly. "He's an idiot?"

Mike snorted, "Oh, he's definitely an idiot. But no. He said an idiom. It's like… a saying. They're phrases that don't really mean what the actual words mean. Like 'whatever floats your boat' means 'do whatever you want.'

El's eyes twinkled with instant annoyance. "He told me to float a boat. But... I'm not supposed to float a boat."

"Nope. You're just supposed to 'do what you want'."

"That is…" Her shoulders quickly dropped and she huffed. "That is stupid! He could say 'yes'. No more. Just 'yes'. But he told me to 'float a boat'?! That's… that's stupid! Words are so stupid, Mike."

It finally slipped. Mike could no longer contain his laughter. "You just said a whole lot of words about how dumb words are."

El's tense look softened in an instant. She ducked her head as the slightest pink rose into her cheeks. "I'm getting better, yeah?"

"Yeah!" Mike replied. He playfully bumped her shoulder. "Way better! That was almost a whole rant!"

El chuckled. Her dimples caught the sunlight as she looked at him with her perfect closed-lipped smile.

"Don't feel bad that you don't know these phrases, though," Mike added as he reached out for her hand. "You're right. They are stupid. It's just something you learn."

"It's just something you learn." El repeated back to him with a mocking tone.

"Hey!"

El giggled and shifted closer to Mike. "Tell me some other idiots."

"Idioms."

"Right. Idioms."

"Well…" Mike played with her fingers for a silent moment as he thought. "There's 'hold your horses'. That means to 'slow down' or 'don't get carried away'."

"Get carried away?"

Mike grimaced. "Shit, that's another idiom, isn't it? Yeah, I guess they both mean to slow down."

El rolled her eyes, "People could just say, 'slow down'."

"Oh! There's 'kick the bucket'! That means to die."

"WHAT?!" El yelped, her eyes blowing wide.

"Yeah... that one is really weird now that I think about it."

El burst into laughter. Free flowing, loud, unrestrained laughter. She latched onto his hand as she tried and failed to catch her breath. "That is… that is SO stupid!"

"It is…" Mike replied, giggles beginning to fill the space between his own words in a contagious manner. "That one is really stupid!"

El's laughter was joyous. Over the course of the next few seconds it took over her entire body. Her nose was scrunched and pink lips were turned upward. Her eyes were screwed tightly shut. Her fingers gripped tightly on his as she leaned over on herself and tried to catch her breath. She seemed so happy, so incredibly beautiful and perfectly at peace...

Mike's own laughter subsided. For, in that moment, an emotion so much stronger than amusement flooded through his body like an earthquake.

"Ooh, are you teaching El phrases?"

Mike jumped at the intruding voice. He looked up to find Max standing over them, a chip bag that had been by El's feet now in her hands.

El finally caught her breath and looked up toward their friend. "Idioms?" she said tentatively, trying the word on for size.

"I see…"

Max took a quick look at Mike. Her expression turned to one of devilish glee. Max bent down to eye-level and leaned in toward El. "I've got one for you, Ellie," Max said, her eyes flicking back on Mike before she said, "Head over heels."

"What's that?"

"I bet Wheeler would love to explain that one to you," she replied with a smirk. "Since he is. Completely. It's written all over his face right now. Have fun, Mike!"

Max patted Mike patronizingly on the knee and bounded instantly away.

"What does that mean?" El asked.

"Uh…"

"What?" El asked, her laughter gone, her gaze intent.

Mike made a mental note to kill Max later. For, El was staring at him with that look. That piercing gaze that Mike knew meant that El was expecting a full explanation. His tongue felt instantly dry.

"It's… It's when you really like someone," he stuttered, "Like... really like them? You like them so much you can't stop thinking about them and you could do like, flips? and stuff?"

"Flips?"

Mike's hand flamed so hot within El's grasp that he was sure it was going to burn her.

"Well, no. Not actually flips. But you feel like you could do flips when you look at them? Does that... does that make sense?"

"No."

Mike bit back a groan. "I guess… I'm uh… Okay..." he took a deep breath and tried to steady himself, "It's when your stomach feels all squirmy and your skin feels too tight and you can't stop thinking about them no matter how hard you try. Did I already say that part? Yeah, I did… I think… Uh…"

Mike's words died in an agonizing swallow.

El bit her lip. Yet, after a short moment, something seemed to dawn in her eyes. She broke into a timid smile.

"Like… like love?" she asked.

"Uh..."

"Yes?" She asked with firm nod.

"uh...yes." Mike confirmed, his breath short. "L-love. Yes."

El's hand then tightened on his. She smiled and ducked her eyes away.

"I'm…" El's stuttered. "I'm head over heels."

"You ARE?" Mike blurted so loudly the birds above them took flight.

El gazed up toward him slowly. The golden flecks in her eyes shined through her lashes. She nodded.

It was the last thing that Mike saw before he kissed her.

It was the only thing that Mike could think to do! Because words? Words were failing him here. Big time. The words were so real and so right and far too big for his young mouth to handle. How could he ever find the words to explain how he felt? How could he explain the fluttering in his chest or the sweat on his palms? How could he explain the constant barrage of goosebumps that ran up his neck when she touched his arm and said his name? Or the involuntary somersaults his stomach performed when she joked and laughed? How could he ever even begin to explain how his heart had expanded so much that it threatened to topple him over and throw him -

"- Head over heels," Mike gasped like a breath of fresh air against her lips. "Me too. Absolutely."

He braved to open his eyes then, shocked by his own outburst. Yet he needn't have been worried. For, the surge of warmth in El's eyes told him everything he needed to know.

El was quiet for a moment. She just looked at him. Her eyes wide, deep, floating. Her smile soft.

"Can I kiss you again?" Mike whispered.

She shrugged and said, with the lightest lilt, "Whatever floats your boat."

The laugh that cut through Mike's body was a sudden and glorious surprise.

"Did I use it right?" she asked excitedly, her eyes lighting up at his response.

"Yeah. Perfect!" Mike replied joyously, "Just… just.. per-"

His final word became lost between his smile, her giggle, and their firmly pressed lips.

Mike did not care about the fact that Hopper's eyes were definitely on them. He did not care that his friends were probably laughing under their breath just a few feet away. He did not care about the birdsong, or the lapping waves, or the summer sun. He only cared about the girl who's air he was sharing in that very moment.

Because Mike? Mike was truly… undeniably… irreversibly... head over heels for her.

[lucidentia-sb]

Drawing breath

Simon Baker on the ocean, identity and making Breath 

In the second instalment of my conversation with The Mentalist star and now feature film director Simon Baker, he discusses with me the casting and rehearsal process with Ben Spence and Samson Coulter for Breath, the details in the costume design by Terri Lamera, Elizabeth Debicki's Eva as Sando's girlfriend, the danger of Klaus Kinski in Loonie, fairy tales about boys in search of fear, Simon's renewed "relationship with the ocean", and his remembrance of "when I outgrew my stepfather."

"Surrender is what frees you up," surfing champion Sando (Simon Baker) teaches teenagers Pikelet (Samson Coulter) and Loonie (Ben Spence), while he himself, as it turns out, can only follow through with his own maxim to a certain extent. When you live your life "like someone who didn't believe in death," a structural switch occurs. The unspoken trade between the boys - although a lot is shared verbally with each other while they ride their bikes - is this: I give you some of my stability, you give me a hunk of freedom. And vice versa.

A detail in Sando's suede jacket becomes visible to us just at the moment his young pals, definitely one of them, discover their idol's imperfection. His surface is cracked. The façade cannot hold. This fragile deal only functioned for a while.

Anne-Katrin Titze: The jacket your character Sando is wearing when you return from your travels - that's the first time we see the hole in the jacket.

Simon Baker: Oh really?

AKT: I thought that was very subtle costume design. It's a denim or corduroy jacket.

SB: Yeah, there was a corduroy jacket. The hole in the jacket is the jacket when Pikelet doesn't get in the car. It's like a suede jacket with shearling on it. That's the first time I wear that.

AKT: Oh, I see. But the fact that there's a hole in the jacket at that point is perfect.

SB: I like that. Here's the thing - is that because of the way the film is structured and there is a lot of detail stuff - what I find interesting is that you kind of educate your audience how to watch a film. You know, in the first 15 or 20 minutes.

And then, hopefully, they're engaged in that process so that you can take bigger leaps. And they will go there with you. And they'd still also be looking for more detail. And you are obviously a very observant audience member because you are looking for things that are very specific.

AKT: Well, in this case, it means the sheen is gone. At that point Sando is no longer what he was. There are holes in Pikelet's way of perceiving him.

SB: Pikelet's perception of him has changed. Pikelet now sees him for what he is.

AKT: Yeah.

SB: And exactly, he is not this guru, this sun god to worship anymore. He's slightly pathetic. And Pikelet sees that he's kind of pathetic. And Loonie kind of gets a little whiff of it in that scene at the same time. And as you realize, as he says goodbye to Pikelet, "You got your own thing, now piss off." As Sando drives away, the first thing he does is look at Loonie to see if he's still … if he's seen the weakness in him.

AKT: It's all there in the glances and the props. The film is a lot about father figures.

SB: It's a lot about that. I mean, it's a big thing for me.

AKT: You have a scene where the other father - I am saying other father, I mean Pikelet's biological father [played by Richard Roxburgh], is seen potting plants and going fishing with his son. And then he goes surfing with the other father figure. Both connecting to water in drastically different ways. It gives a nice structure and makes it possible for us to go beyond the literal meanings. But you were saying the father theme is a big thing for you?

SB: It's a big thing for me in the sense that I remember very clearly when I outgrew my stepfather. And I couldn't communicate with him anymore. You know, I had sort of outgrown him. And in a lot of ways, Pikelet outgrows Sando and no longer has that possibility to communicate with him.

And Sando has the choice to evolve but doesn't. He acknowledges the courage it takes for Pikelet to say "No" and not want to go. But he still doesn't allow Pikelet to help him develop. Sando has an opportunity there to develop and he doesn't do it.

AKT: And he lives in what feels like a tree house.

SB: Yeah. I mean when I talk about that, I'm talking about in the sense that when I was growing up in this world that I've created in the film, there is this masculine sort of stereotype. And this ideal that is created and has solidified in Australian culture. Particularly around that period of time.

And I wanted to create that as authentically as possible but then subvert it. So that the perceived identity or prescribed identity is something that you can fight against. Or stand up against.

AKT: You are losing your voice. Do you want one of these? [I am handing Simon a Ricola Original Swiss Natural Herb Cough Drop I happen to have in my bag].

SB: Thank you. I love these! And Pikelet does that in that moment. And him doing that, fighting against that prescribed identity - he finds who he really is. And the strength in that.

AKT: The woman's name is Eve. Eva?

SB: Eva.

AKT: Elizabeth Debicki is very good in that role. Of course she is representing something else too, but she is also very much just a person. A person who is choking herself.

SB: Metaphorical, yeah. She has a great loss of her own identity that she's struggling with as well. I mean, who she was has been stripped away from her and she's obviously really not sure about who she is anymore. She's not sure how to live as the person who can't do those things. She has this desperate need for risk and danger and feeling afraid. She can't quench that thirst in any other way than what she's doing.

AKT: Because it is that destabilising idea that she needs in her life, that dangerous element. "Surrender is what frees you up," is one of the noteworthy lines. It's something to think about. Is it really? Is that it?

SB: I mean, yeah. Look, it's a big thing for me. In so many ways. To even to be able to take on this film is about surrendering to it, you know?

AKT: There are these classic tales, fairy tales about boys in search of fear. I don't know if you are familiar with them; there are some in the collection by the Brothers Grimm.

SB: Oh yeah, yeah.

AKT: In one we get to know about the family background, a father with two sons. One son is considered the smart one and the other, the one who doesn't know what fear is, is treated as incurably stupid and it is said that he will always be a burden to his father. 

Anyway, he goes out to learn what fear is because he cannot feel fear. I was thinking of him in connection to Loonie. The family background, the search for love and also that search for fear. That makes him almost a classic fairy tale hero, almost.

SB: Yes, he has got equal parts danger and vulnerability about him. He's kind of a by-product. He is such a tragic character.

AKT: He is.

SB: And the writing is kind of on the wall early for that character.

AKT: And you go there, into the dark place, which I really liked. You did not not go there what you proposed from the first scene. In parts he reminded me, maybe also be cause of the blond hair, of Klaus Kinski.

SB: Oh really? Yeah, right, Klaus Kinski had that danger too, right?

AKT: Yes, very much. The boys are great.

SB: Neither of them had ever acted before.

AKT: They jumped out at you right away during casting? 

SB: Yeah. Well, it took a while. It took a year to find them. It was a long process.

AKT: They are so good together.

SB: That was just creating the right environment for them. We had a ten-day workshop, a sort of ten-day rehearsal period, so that they got a lot more time to spend together. And during that ten-day rehearsal period, every morning we'd go surfing together. And then we'd work and play around and then I'd take them to the different locations.

As they were building the Sando house or showing them things, basically getting them on track because they had no real kind of yardstick or measure of understanding what the experience of making a film was going to be like. They were incredibly brave. They threw themselves into it.

AKT: Surrendered?

SB: Yeah.

AKT: Did your relationship to surfing change with making this film or did it remain the same?

SB: No. Same. I mean it's always been the same. If anything, maybe during the process of making the film, leading up to making the film, the development of it, I thought a lot more about my relationship with the ocean.

And really as opposed to just doing it. What water really meant to me, and what it has meant over different periods of my life. And being more mindful of how who I am is affected by my connection to it.

AKT: Thank you so much. I'll let you breathe.

SB: Thank you.

[evanescent-epiphanies]

like a passage from goodnight moon

It has been a very long time since I wrote a fic, but doing some music recs yesterday reminded me of how much I wanted to write some kind of musicians AU for the song Goodnight Moon by Go Radio! So yeah, have 1.5K of musician!mika yuumikayuu that I cranked out in like five hours last night. I love the sweet smell of hurt/comfort in the dead of night u_u (there are mentions of mitsunoa in here too)

@kuruenairazz look I actually did it *finger guns*

And sing for me softly, love, your song for tomorrow

And tell me my name’s the one that’s hidden in there somewhere

Yuu is lulled back into consciousness by the soft brush of a melody against his cheek.

He rolls over in bed, kicking off the covers that he doesn’t remember dragging over himself. The walls light up with the splashes of headlights through the window. Yuu checks the time: four in the morning. He squints. His lover croons sweetly from elsewhere in their shared apartment, the same mellow ballad that Yuu drifted off to yesterday evening. Mika has always worked far too hard.

He cards a hand through his bedraggled hair and swings upright. By the time he reaches the door, fingers ghosting the knob, the song has faded; it’s replaced by the low rustle of paper and the drumming of fingertips against wood. Yuu stares at the warm lamplight bleeding in from under the door. He shuffles out to the living room.

Mika is right where Yuu left him, perched at the end of the couch and hunched over sheets upon sheets of half-scribbled music. He doesn’t look up from the crumpled score in his hand, even when Yuu slides in behind him and lazily snakes arms around his waist. His chin finds a home on Mika’s shoulder.

“It’s late, darling,” mutters Yuu, voice thick with sleep, as he nuzzles his love’s jawline. Mika hesitates; his grip slowly slackens, muscles uncoiling, and Yuu hums in wholehearted approval. “Come to bed.”

Yuu reaches for the lamp beside them, but Mika gently seizes his wrist. His blue eyes are red-rimmed with exhaustion, brows drawn thoughtfully, and Yuu wants nothing more than the smooth them out with kisses and honeyed words. He leans in to do so, but Mika suddenly goes boneless. He chuckles hoarsely and presses his back into Yuu’s chest like it grounds him, and--Yuu eyes the sea of balled-up paper scattered around them--maybe it does.

“Let’s just stay here for a while,” Mika whispers, quiet enough to get swallowed in the silence around them, and dodges Yuu’s quizzical stare. Yuu lowers his arm--takes Mika’s down with it--and twines their fingers together. They sit. Mika opens and closes his mouth a few times, as if mustering the courage to say something, so Yuu waits. He listens to the forced pattern of Mika’s breaths and counts the pockmarks on the ceiling.

“Do you--,” Mika starts, air catching in his throat, and Yuu squeezes, “do you ever think that…. This isn’t what I’m meant to be doing?”

Yuu hides his frown behind golden curls. “What do you mean, love?”

Mika makes a helpless little gesture at the reject ideas on the floor. “I don’t know. The music, the writing, the--.... I’ve had slumps before, but this is just….”

“That tune you were working on earlier was good,” Yuu says. He rubs soothing circles into Mika’s skin when his shoulders begin to hike, trying to ease away the frustration seeping back into his bones. “I liked it a lot. It was rich and soulful, kind of like the one you wrote for--”

--“Shinoa and Mitsuba’s wedding? Yeah.” His lips curl up at the corners, mirthless. “I was looking at it earlier. Thought visiting my old stuff would help, but nothing’s good enough.”

Mika lowers his gaze to the music sheet still caged in his grasp. He lets it go. Yuu watches it flutter to the ground. “I’ve been working on this song for weeks, but I can’t even come up with something that even resembles what I’m trying to do. Maybe I’m just,” his voice cracks, “.... not cut out for it.”

Something in his gut twists horribly in response, wrenching even harder when Mika untangles his fingers from Yuu’s and moves to get off of him. Cold air floods the empty space that he occupied. “I’m sorry, this is stupid. You’re right, I should just go to sleep--”

--that’s as far as Yuu lets him get before he yanks him back down. A surprised noise escapes Mika as Yuu clutches him to his body like a lifeline, burying his face in the crook of Mika’s neck and inhaling deeply. Mika trembles against him, hands fisting and unfisting themselves numbly at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. And it hurts to witness, because Yuu has seen those hands in so many ways--curled around the neck of a violin, splayed over monochrome piano keys, dancing across the lengths of flutes and clarinets and all manner of instruments--and he can’t stand the thought of Mika giving up the very thing he lives and breathes.

Yuu is not a musician. Yuu is not a musician, but he knows Mika, and that will have to be enough.

“Baby,” he murmurs, threading their fingers together once more, “That’s complete bull. You’re dedicated, you’re a hard worker, and you’ve got more talent in your pinkie finger than I’ve probably got in my whole body. Don’t say you’re not cut out for the thing that makes you happy.”

Mika makes a distressed sound in the back of his throat. “Yuu-chan--”

--“no, you need to hear this. You need to hear about the way your eyes light up when you make music. About how your voice steals the air from everyone in the room. I remember when Shinoa and Mitsuba asked you to compose that song for their wedding, and the way you positively glowed with happiness; you threw yourself into it with everything you had and chattered my ear off every chance you got. You had everyone crying halfway through your performance the day of because it was just so beautiful. That… That’s why I can’t let you quit. Music makes you come alive, and…. I don’t know how I breathed without you by my side.”

“You don’t know how you--,” Mika laughs, fond and incredulous all at once. “God, Yuu-chan, that’s my line.”

Yuu blinks, genuinely baffled, when Mika manages to loosen the arms around him enough to bring Yuu’s hand up to his face. He’s still chuckling as he kisses each of Yuu’s knuckles reverently; Yuu’s cheeks redden.

“You’re all that I think about. All that I dream about,” Mika says, voice raw with devotion, into his lover’s skin. “I’d drop music in a heartbeat if it meant I could be with you. You’ve given me the whole world and expected nothing in return. A life with you…. That’s the kind of hope everyone talks about. The kind of feelings we sing about, and,” he lays Yuu’s hand on his cheek and covers it with his own, “if it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t have any music in me anyway.”

There is silence. Bewildered, Mika swivels around to the sight of a bright flush spiraling down the collar of Yuu’s t-shirt. He chortles, and Yuu scrambles to recollect his composure.

“Dammit, Mika,” he says weakly, “Give a guy a warning, will you?”

Mika’s laughter grows fainter as he readjusts himself, tips his forehead against Yuu’s, breathes in his space. His eyes are closed, so Yuu studies the sweep of his lashes and the way they glimmer in the artificial light. His vision blurs from the proximity.

“I want to write the perfect song.” Mika looks at him dead on, eyes intent and so very blue. They snatch the oxygen right out of Yuu’s lungs. “I want to write the perfect song, and I want it to be about you.”

“Then do it,” replies Yuu quietly, cupping his other cheek. Mika leans into the contact with a warm exhale. “You can. I believe in you.”

Mika breathes out and Yuu breathes in, and god, he loves this feeling. “You make me feel like I’m actually living. There’s just a jumble of emotions inside me that are all associated with you. I can’t do it justice.”

And it’s Yuu’s turn to grin and giggle now, because his lover is so silly, sometimes. “This is what you’ve been stressing about for all these weeks? Darling, I’ll love the hell out of anything you write for me. I’ll make you play it for me all the time, blast it on the speakers while I’m driving, and make you cringe by singing it in the shower. You can do it. Take your time.”

Mika nods, and a beautiful smile blooms on his face as his head slides down to Yuu’s shoulder. “Okay…. Thanks, Yuu-chan.”

Yuu hums in lieu of a response, gripping Mika tighter when it becomes apparent that he’s falling asleep, warm and solid in his arms. He huffs a little in mock exasperation, but gathers his snoozing blond up anyway, heaving them off the couch, down the hall, and to the bedroom. He manages to situate them both under the covers--despite Mika’s incessant clinging and gangly limbs everywhere--and checks the time again: five in the morning.

“Good night, Mika,” Yuu whispers. Mika doesn’t speak, but the curl of a pinkie finger around his says enough.

Good night, Yuu-chan.

[california-doom-merchants]

The Apprentice: S1E2

I wrote the first one of these mid-January in between the election and the inauguration and:

I enjoyed writing it to hell

It's my favourite thing I've written in ages

I'm ill so I've got a big ball of spite that needs directing at SOMETHING

Fuck everything this man stands for

So that in mind let's begin. The US Apprentice, Season 1 Episode 2, aka “Sex, Lies and Altitude”, aka “Fucking Kill Me Dead”

First episode didn't have this theme song which opens with the refrain “Money money money, got to have it”

It's nice to be back, as in “the last time I watched this the star of this show didn't have a big red apocalypse button those sure were the days”

It opens on the two guys who didn't get fired walking back into the group

“David is...departed” motherfucker he lost in a reality show he didn't DIE

Alright so for all the opulence around them these guys are sharing rooms which are smaller than dorm rooms, like why the fuck are those even in Trump Tower

Maybe it's to make the co-eds feel more at homeroigoeinrgre

“The reality is that every board meeting will mean someone goes home” that's the basic premise of the show yeah

The women's group are gonna vote on who they want to be project leader

There's a whole bunch of drama between two of the women and like it's a competition aimed at businesspeople, of course they all want to lead this is Not Exactly Surprising

Trump is meeting the tiny apprentice idiots at an advertising agency

“This is Round 2 in a 13 round fight” too many rounds. too many.

Men's group are like “alright it's an advertising task, you worked in advertising, boom you're the leader”

seeing as yesterday you went to THE MOTHERFUCKING NY STOCK EXCHANGE *AIRHORNS* to get told “fuck you, sell lemonade” maybe not the best plan

but what do I know I don't have a BA in Money

One of the women is wearing a multicoloured bandanna at this business meeting and damn if that ain't Early 2000s Aesthetic right there

They meet up with the president of the advertising agency who's like early 50s and ripped and also in a tshirt and jeans for some reason??

He and Trump are very touchy-feely

He shows off his shitty open-plan office like it's the Taj Mahal and a security guard scoots right by them on a fucking scooter

“Advertising is an amazing thing, it's a powerful powerful tool, weapon”

Just drops “weapon” in there as if that's not actually quite disturbing

“this time you're gonna be working on CORPORATE. JETS” and they grin like 9 year olds

they gotta design an advertising campaign which sounds super tedious but again my name ain't Jonny Business what do I know

“the winning team is gonna be flown from New York to Boston by PRIVATE JET. For dinner”

oh boy I hope the jet is covered in gold

also I really hope they have to make their own travel arrangements home. fuck you peasants, third task is hitchhiking you motherfuckers

the advertising guy is like “cool you gotta make a 30 second advert and also a magazine ad”

he also gives them some friendly advice like “swing for the fences. and failure is not an option”.

Another way of putting that is “Take risks, and also make sure nothing goes wrong” which is ??????? you can't have risks without the chance of failure you chiseled fuck

oh wow so I didn't mention last time that each episode has like a business monologue?? from the big white supremacist himself

this one's titled “Don't Negotiate With Underlings”

alright so the “monologue” is like three sentences and two of them are “Deal with the boss”

like leaving aside a) DUH, b) could have titled that like “Talk To The One In Charge” or “Go Straight To The Top”

“Don't Negotiate With Underlings” makes you sound simultaneously like a total shithead but also a total shithead who's dealing with a hostage crisis

An advert popped up for Geena Davis on Will and Grace and props to whoever recorded this for not just switching channels

I don't even watch W&G but give me anyone who was in Thelma & Louise over this garbo

So the women immediately call up the company they're advertising for

“Hi we're working on your ad campaign” yeah in the same way that Maggie Simpson is driving Marge's car

“okay so we have an appointment today with the CEO and senior vice president of marketing” wow lucky they both happened to be free!!!

They are playing up the “this woman is ambitious and mean” angle to the fucking hilt

the leader literally picks one other woman to go to this meeting and fucks off without giving any other instructions

the next shot is them running out of the building and into a road like zoo escapees

the guy leader is like “we don't need to meet with the people who we're designing an ad campaign for, what do they have to offer??”

the women literally have to run to get to the meeting with the CEO

“one of the reasons you've been put on the Marquis Jet case is to wow us” well it was because you'd get to star on primetime CBS

meanwhile all the other women are looking at the jet they're (tangentially) gonna advertise

“my design idea is something that's very...risky” alright lay it on me

“I want to show a phallic symbol” HOLY SHITTTTTTTTT

but no seriously please don't, this show already has all the dicks I can handle

“I want to show a phallic symbol because it's a plane”

“I want to show a phallic symbol because it's a plane and if you buy the card you're gonna go UP. You're gonna go WAY UP”

Then there's a long lingering shot of the front of the plane

Smooth jazz starts playing

Ron Jeremy is there

“it's gonna be so bad they're gonna LOVE IT”

like credit's where it due, it takes a certain sort of courage to get a task like this and go “what if I make it DELIBERATELY shit?”

they're showing the woman they've established as Angry and Uncooperative talking about what a bad idea this is but I'm 100% on her side

and not just out of fuck-the-editors spite, this is so clearly dumb

Speaking of the editors, they've edited this one scene with the guys so badly it looks like one guy phoned another just to tell him who Warren Buffett is

“our project leader isn't motivating us, he needs to be our cheerleader” ummm

“Mr. Trump's been our cheerleader, Donnie's been our cheerleader” this is rapidly approaching Stockholm Syndrome, the only interaction he's had with you is to tell you that you're bad but not quite as bad as someone else

maybe he just knew some really nasty cheerleaders

There's a montage of these guys directing a TV ad being filmed and it could not be more obvious that they're clueless

It just cut to one guy who said “Victory. Victory for the men” and then it cut to someone else

Or maybe I hallucinated it

Nope it's still there

Fuck

Okay holy shit the women's ad just got referred to very casually as “Tammy's Testicle Ad”

There's two photos where they've shot the plane to look like a dick and like balls

That's like something eight year olds would do if given a budget

One of the guys working back at the office has literally laid down on the conference room floor to sleep

Honestly I don't even have the heart to make fun, I'm here for the obnoxious business people and the fascist in charge, not the guy who's clearly not in the right place emotionally to be on a TV show

The women are getting into full flight attendant outfits to make their pitch because “it's the full experience that sells it”, in which case where are your dongs

they're also doing a direct mail side of the campaign and the guy they're selling to is like “but people just toss direct mail”

She assured him it's “damn good”

I'm just enjoying the moment before he realizes their definition of “damn good” is largely genitalia-themed

These posters are the worst thing I've ever seen

also who the fuck direct mails a fucking private jet renting service? know your audience like what the ass

“alright guys you've set the women's movement back about 70 years”

damn dude imagine being told “hey design an advert for a plane!” and then two days later being told “you are traitors to your gender”

The guys are getting ready to present

“I am the Zen Master of presentation” yes but how capable are you of talking about DONGS

oh my god the men have made a Powerpoint and it actually has the “pie charts woosh onto screen” effects

they don't mention it but the pie chart absolutely mentions direct mail so both teams must have been told to do this very stupid thing

then they hand the committee first class cigars at the end

the committee is torn between the men's “a bit generic but overall good” approach and the women's “DICKS AND BALLS DICKS AND BALLS” approach

Everyone gets called back in so the ad company guy can call “The Big Guy”

The women won

I hate this

The women all get into a limo to go to their private jet and they shout “Donald's Divas!” and I can't anymore

Meanwhile the men are bickering

“Here's my guarantee to you – someone's getting fired tomorrow”

like is this stuff handed to them on a cue card or do people on reality shows just spend all their time re-iterating the concept and premise to other people on the show

“The jet was a taste of the Trump lifestyle” honestly props on making a TV series that is essentially an advert for yourself and getting it to last 10 plus seasons

Then there's this contrast montage of the women eating in this fancy restaurant and the guys eating at their shitty apartment complex

but you know what? the men look like they're happy and the women are all alone in a restaurant and look pretty miserable

why do the rewards always make me envy the losers more

is it because the winners have extra Trump proximity

(yes)

I don't want to get into the “drama” because it's like 95% manufactured but yeah the women are arguing

Race comes into it and frankly I can't imagine a worse forum to discuss misogynoir

but apparently this whole “flight to Boston, dinner, flight back” means they're on the move at 4am and that seems more like a penalty to the next round than anything else

like did nobody think of this?? or is this more of this “successful people don't need sleep” shit

one of the guys (the dude who slept) is very obviously freaking out and one of the guy says “sit down, relax, close your eyes”, puts a cowboy hat on him and gives this monologue like “imagine yourself fishing, the mountains at your back”

the other man thanks him and stays there for a bit

honestly I feel like I'm meant to laugh at this but it's oddly touching

smash cut to someone else - “yeah we need to fire that guy”

the losing team has to pack up all their stuff every time they go to the boardroom and I imagine that being just a hassle rather than genuinely unsettling

Trump walks into the boardroom out of the shadows just like he does in my nightmares

it's surreal watching these guys defend a “losing” idea which was actually professional

“you should have met with the guy who hired you” well YES

the team leader has to pick two other people who were responsible for losing

but the whole reason they lost was due to a decision he made so he picks the “fell asleep” guy and then someone else seemingly at random

this is Not A Very Well Thought Out Aspect Of Your Show

“I had to pick someone!” and then Trump's like “bit disloyal”

No it's literally one of the rules of your shitty TV franchise

The team leader is lying about stuff which is on tape which is a bold move

but dick-themed direct mail was also a bold move so what do I know

“Sam, you're a disaster, don't take offence, everyone hates you”

This is said to the same guy who was like “Donnie's our cheerleader!”

The team leader got fired

Honestly I think it's more because they think the other guy is good TV and they don't want to get rid of him too soon

and for someone who just didn't get fired he looks really quite upset

guy who got fired is like “I'll call you direct in five years when I have my first building”

I googled it, he does not own a building

So in summary – this wasn't fun. This wasn't interesting. This wasn't good television, or even good reality television. At best it got me to laugh at an absolutely terrible ad campaign and at worst it just made me feel bad for the guy who got fired, the guy who didn't get fired, the cast, the crew, the security guard on the ridiculous looking scooter and pretty much everyone involved in this trainwreck besides the walking talking constitutional crisis at the centre of it.

See you for Part 3!

[choosinglight]

Vita's Letter from 2013

Misi had a challenge for me and Lasi, he said, “I will give you $1000 if you can stay away from the girl you think you ‘love’ now for a year, no texting, no being alone together, no conversation. $1000 if you don’t feel better afterwards.” I’ve been on a mission for a year, so far away from who I thought I was, who I thought I “loved”, who I settle for. And I’ve seen my weaknesses, strengths, curiosities, POTENTIAL. I’ve created a world of possibilities, expanded horizons, failed beyond reason, and succeeded past imagination. Lost myself in something bigger than me, and identified what I wanted to be a part of, who I want to be, ultimately I found myself, Now I’m growing. But the whole point of me telling you this is trying to convey what Misi was trying to show me. But I can’t explain it, like Misi can’t explain the joy that is being a father. If I want to know, there are things (John 7:17) I have to DO! I hope you do it. Lose yourself. Find yourself. So you can answer questions like, What do I really want?

Can I tell you about my future wife? She’s stubborn. First, she’s smart, a little prideful, and has searched and tested and proved every conviction of hers that puts the life in her opinions, so she’s stubborn as Heaven. And Heaven is steadfast and immovable. Like the stars. And the first time we meet, I am going to hate her. Either because she’s so wrong and stupid for thinking otherwise OR because she might be right cleaving me to be the stupid one.) And we’re going to argue, debate passionately, quick witted jabs here and there, and by the end of the day I’ll debate with myself whether I wanted to kiss her more than heart that beautiful disagreement in opinion. Like someone wrote the dialogue. Screw that, like Jane Austen wrote her dialogue and the spirit guided mine. It will be music. It will drive our families crazy….crazy jealous. It will turn from levels of difficulty to levels of love. I can’t tell you the joy that comes from knowing what I want in an eternal companion. Obviously that’s not all, but it’s what I want the most. A strong testimony, and walking the talk in conversation. So it’s something I need to be. And that’s half the battle. Does that make sense?

My dad had a saying, NO EXCUSES, FIND A WAY. Because an excuse is a lie. And Satan’s the father of ALL lies, if someone lies they settle for less. Let me be more clear, if God reveals you revelation, and you forget it, then obviously you don’t want it, like an unwanted gift you just threw away. But if you write it down, and practice applying it in daily life, He sees you appreciate it more and so He blesses you with more. Makes sense, right? So to the girl who keeps a journal, He blesses her with a life worth recording. To the young woman who bears her testimony frequently, He gives more experiences of faith-building moments to increase her testimony; likewise she who shares is blessed with more to share. So to the one who lies, there is no such blessing received because there is no blessing necessary. They don’t need to love you, to say they love you, because they lie. They settle for less. What they can create on their own rather than what God can make out of them. Why use our agency, which costed the Atonement, to choose to CREATE lies. Taking the power to CREATE given to us through our spiritual parents, our Heavenly Father, and using that power to create uncleanness that will not be it for God’s kingdom therefore literally creating (in a sense) our own Hell. Why would we do that? Why do we do that? Why do we continue to do that?

NO EXCUSES. FIND A WAY.

    So Satan has been identified in the saying, excuses, lies, dishonesty, hypocrisy. Don’t allow any of that. Now to identify Jesus, He is “The way, the truth, & the life.” As promised in 1 Nephi 3:7, the Lord provided “a way” to help His children keep the commandments. Repentance. He is the way, the only way. I love C.S. Lewis and the Chronicles of Narnia because the symbolism was so beautiful. It was in a talk given by S. Michael Wilcox. Asland is the Christ character, and is a lion. The reason why He’s a lion is because it’s just like Jesus, not having the most attractive qualities but being personified beautiful strength. Better illustrated by the small part of Narnia shared in S. Michael Wilcox’s talk.

One of the girls was thirsty, dying of thirst and came to a watering hold, where Asland was. But he’s a lion, so she was a little too scared to drink. She asked, “Do you eat little girls?” and he answers, “I have swallowed up armies.”

“Then can you leave so I can drink?”

“I will not leave.”

“Then I will find another watering hole.”

“Then you will die. This is the only water here.”

This is the only way. Without this way or doing things your own way will kill you. The only choice here is die because a lack of faith or die believing in something you couldn’t possibly understand, so you need faith, like a lion being friendly. Or live, with new faith. Notice how THE WAY was provided, only needed to be found, and once found, needed the CHOICE to be made. Partake or NOT. NO. Partake or DIE!

THE TRUTH is eternal. It’s another one of Christ’s names. 

I compare truth to sugar cane. Sugarcane grows to be super tall, but is surrounded by a thick brush. A field of cane will look like a field of wild weeds. (I use this to explain the Baptism of Fire) When it is time to harvest sugarcane, they burn the field, because sugar cane can withstand the heat. (I put more poetry in it though, but this is all the important stuff, at least the most important stuff.) Truth like sugarcane is surrounded by a thick brush of lies. But when put to the test of celestial flames, truth is the only thing eternal enough to withstand the refiner’s fire. And the truth is, you can do this, you can find the strength to partake. I know it’s hard, probation was CRAZY! But such life is. 

The Life, is Christ’s last self proclaimed reference. It’s the way to live. It’s His example of how to pass the test. To descend below all things, and come out on top. The goal, is to master agency, to experience everything we possibly can/need to, to choose the BEST. TO never EVER settle for less. 

The Atonement is REAL, all the love, power, and pain required to bring us back. Would He have suffered that for you if He believed you would reject it, for just one second? Some say He knew there was no other way to save the few that really were WORTH it. I say, why not believe we are ALL worth it? He didn’t give you the option of repentance just so you could refuse it, roll over, and die. Neither did he suffer so you could take part in miserable relationships that keep you crying. He died so that we may live! So live! Experience pain, sorrow, guilt, and choose joy. Doing something brave means you’ve mastered fear, it isn’t brave to stand up, no one’s scared simply stand, NO, the courage comes in what you stand for vs. what you stand against. Standing alone with your morals in a world drifting so far out of sight, that’s bravery. Joy comes similarly, by mastering pain, by saying a smile is worth crying a little (a lot), knowing the right man is worth a lifetime of bad relationships, declaring with your own life, that you were worth the blood spilt in Gethsemane. That’s the life. Not settling for less, but reaching for more, more than you deserve, because that’s what God is willing to give you, should you choose it. So choose it. Choose Joy. Now. 

NO EXCUSES. FIND A WAY. FIND THE TRUTH. FIND THE LIFE…. 

                                    FIND JESUS.

And I’ll give you $1000 if you’re unhappy by then. Find what you really want, don’t be afraid to get specific (& be open to surprises)(🡨Like Pride and Prejudice, Darcy thought “accomplished” was more than what He wanted, someone who made him better.)

So get specific, and then to be honest and not LIE to yourself, be all you want to attract. Then at that point, know that he’s out there, just waiting to be found.

ASK

SEEK

KNOCK

            Don’t settle for less,

                    I love you,

            Ofa Atu’

                    ELDER LIVAI

[mdela-blog]

Hello friends and family!

This is the first update along my living-the-dharma adventure. It' been a wild ride into what I'm deeming the "31 flavours of dharma" - I'm really happy to offer you a window into my current life. It's hard to believe its been just a little over one month. I've visited/lived in five dharma centres, bathed in the rich forests of northern California with Ms. Alexa Nash, and witnessed the growing yearnings for community while visiting a kindred soul in Chico, California. It's been both painfully and deliciously rich and I am here to share with you all of the flavours I've picked up along the way. As well as my hummus recipe and some pictures! It's a long message, but I've poured my heart into it so I hope you will sit back, grab yourself a glass and enjoy the ride.

I would like to lay down some of my intentions with these updates:

My plan is to update you all once a month (give or take). I plan on sharing experiences, learnings, and updates of my current whereabouts. One aim I have is to educate you of the meditation communities I have visited in order to equip you with some knowledge if you so decide to seek out the wisdom path. Moreover, I am experimenting with how to share these experiences and am curious how these will unfold and develop. I also want to make it clear also that I hope these updates will provoke you, my dear friend, for feedback and more importantly how the journey is treating you.

An exchange. Also, if you want me to remove you from this list just ask!

On my mind is the 10-day Vipassana retreat in Kelseyville, California I left yesterday. Currently, I am staked out at a coffee shop, Lulu Carpenter, in the surf city of Santa Cruz for two days before my adventure (next stop: Vadjrapani Institute, a Tibetan Buddhist retreat center in a redwood grove north of Santa Cruz) I had the opportunity of serving nearly 100 meditators at a Goenka Tradition Vipassana retreat. I was thrown in with ten wonderful vagabonds and over 10 days created Metta imbued breakfast, lunch, and dinner for the hungry retreatants. We worked our booty-chittas off. I found little free time, little solitude amongst the craziness. I found this intimate environment very intimidating and hard to adapt to. Yet, over time I found an inner strength that I could find in our scheduled one hour three times a day sits.

The kitchen crew. "Mettaaa!"

We cooked tofu steaks, chilli, curry, baked banana bread and "metta balls", botched a Thai coconut curry, ate sweet potatoes till we exploded and was fortunate to be called the mad scientist of hummus. They all insisted on the recipe, hehe. I'll include it in the attachment below. It was stressful. It was hard. The intimacy brought out a lot of my fears, my self-judgments, my criticisms. It was a mirror wrought with my own demons. I even met my own mirror: The manager of the kitchen. This was the hardest test yet. Yet, within all of the collective insanity, I developed deep bond I developed for my dharma brothers and sisters and worked through my fears.

Dhamma Manda

Now, I'd like to open up about a recurring experience I hinted upon above: The experience of fear.

Fear is a deeply rooted emotion that can provide us useful information about a dangerous situation or person. Although this emotion protected our ancestors from natural threats, it has become a widespread hinderance for many individuals in western society. The emotion hijacks body and mind in both subtle overt ways causing unnecessary suffering such as worry, doubt and uncertainty. You might know this experience as anxiety or an anxiety attack. What I am describing has been my constant companion for a number of years and slowly I have learned about how to transmute the emotion into a powerful motivator and decision maker to show us where we can grow.

I left Columbia early September in a whirlwind of emotion. I had just finished a 20-day meditation retreat and had just made a radical life decision. I wrote a few weeks later in my travel journal about this experience:

Connecting with Chico (California) has allowed me to connect with my fears, connect with my hopes, connect with my frustrations, connect with friends, connect with community. I see a stronger, more detached, emotionally resilient Louie. I should tell you though: Detachment does not mean numbing or passive, in fact, it is quite the opposite. Detachment is letting yourself fully feel, fully be in the moment and allow yourself to surrender to whatever comes up. Even if it means to stare at loneliness or fear in the face and from the bottom of the heart and say " I don't know." To weep deeply to a friend and admit how every breath is breathing in fear, every direction feels a primordial fear. To let oneself fully be there, and say, "hey, fear, I love you, but I don't need you right now." What I needed at that time was to find the courage and strength to move from the place which has spoken to me in the deepest of silences. California is the manifestation of that inner strength, inner resilience.

I am here today to tell you, that no matter what fear says, it does not define you. That fear is valid but it is not truth. It is a voice that speaks the language of a previous conditioning that no longer serves you.  To say thank you to your fears, but, as my father puts, do not let the drive the fear, the fear does not drive you. I see it as a passenger of a bus that I am in control of. I may not be in control of when fear arises, but I can shift my relationship with it. "Sure fear, you can take the front row, but take note! I am driving the bus."

This is one of the most important lessons I have learned from meditation.

Thoughts, emotions, these are just passing experiences we can either run away from (aversion) or want to hold (cling) to. If we can learn not to react but to just be aware of these experiences, slowly we can bring the fear from the driver's seat to the passenger seat. This passenger is a part of you, a part of me, but they serve a self that does not have your best interests in mind.

This is the essence of mindfulness: relating to our experiences from a place of awareness instead of a place of reaction and judgement.

As I developed the practice of coming from a place of awareness I learned how to quiet the mind and let silence speak. I learned to trust and listen to this place of stillness and see fear, excitement, boredom as just the passing show. This, to me, is the place of god, the place of the mystic, the space of no space, hehe. (had to get a little mystical, ya know).

Mahasi Sayadaw Vipassana 20-day meditation retreat, Springfield Illinois. The retreat that catalyzed my trip to California.

You may ask "okay Louie, I hear you and that all sounds good and fun, but how can I put this into practice." Well, as I spoke before: mindfulness meditation is key. Heres another one that stands out to me:

Dhutanga: The practices which are hard to do

I had the great opportunity of visiting Abhayagiri Thai Forest Monastery in Ukai, California in which I stumbled on the words of Ajahn Chah, a highly influential teacher of the Thai Forest tradition. He spoke of the practice of Dhutanga as "the practices which are hard to do." Ajahn describes the practice in his dhamma talk In the Dead of Night which he describes his practices of meditating in cemeteries near dead-bodies to see the truth within this fear of death.

''If it's time for it to die then let it die. If my mind is going to be so stubborn and stupid then let it die''... that's how I thought to myself. Actually in my heart I didn't really want to go but I forced myself to. When it comes to things like this, if you wait till everything's just right you'll end up never going. When would you ever train yourself? So I just went."

Ajahn Chah

Was it the

right

time to go to California? Who knows. Was I looking forward to serving 10 hours a day in a kitchen with a bunch of strangers? Hell no. I was freaking out, man. Yet, I knew that this fear was a signpost, a signpost telling me to lean in and listen to what I fear the most. I am so grateful for these inner tools of meditation and yoga. Practices that can cultivate an inner fountain of stability and strength no matter how intense the storm. Even beyond formal meditation, we can lean closer and reside in what scares us. This is the juice, the nectar, the good stuff. Slowly those fears turn into our signposts that can help point us towards what we really want in life. This is the transmutation.

This to me is why I left for California. Because although fear clouds the heart, the mind, it is not me.

That inner calling, no matter how quiet or how much its pushed down, is your calling, screaming for freedom, screaming for peace, screaming for you to find you. Even if that means facing the darkest, scariest parts of you. It is there waiting.Pick up the phone and find your California, love.

So, my dear friend, I challenge you to develop your Dhutangha.. Listen closely and remember the words of the wise little Thai man: "Wherever you are afraid you should go."

Aaannndd I digress. Whew!

If you have made it this far:

YOU ARE A WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING!

If any of this resonated with you please let me know. If you have any feedback, whether it be my writing style or content, or if you have any questions please do not hesitate to ask =) And because this is an exchange,

let me know how you are doing!

I miss all of you and hold all of you close in my heart.

[lamujerarana]

71 or 89 with spideytorch please?

When Johnny burns a message into the sky asking to meet with Peter at the usual place, Peter drops everything, just like he always does.

The Torch could be in trouble, and what kind of friend would Peter be if he didn’t rush to help him?

Tonight, even though he’s impatient to get there, it takes him exactly twenty-seven minutes to get to the Statue of Liberty, but only because there are no helicopters flying past and Peter doesn’t have enough web-fluid left to make a raft. 

When at last he drops down onto the Statue’s crown, he discovers that Johnny’s already there, feet dangling out between one of the crown’s spikes and gazing pensively out at the city skyline. He’s so lost in thought, he doesn’t even notice Peter’s arrived.

Peter wishes he had his camera. He thinks he could fill a gallery with moments like these, moments when Johnny looks like a living work of art, like…like he should be one of those pictures hanging in a museum. He—his beauty—it deserves to be remembered forever. Maybe Peter can make that happen. Maybe that’ll be his claim to fame fifty years from now. Maybe he’ll be an eighty-year-old going around telling everyone he was the guy who took those pictures of the Human Torch.

Peter shakes his head to drive away those flustering, bewildering thoughts that he’s never entirely known what to do with.

“Don’t think too hard, Torchy,” Peter says to lighten the tension as he sinks down next to Johnny. “You wouldn’t want to break anything.” 

Johnny smiles faintly up at Peter. “Hey,” he says. “Thanks for coming.” He scoots a pizza box over towards Peter.

Peter yanks off his mask, pops open the lid, picks up a slice of the half-eaten pizza, and stuffs it in his mouth. He is starving. He makes a face. “Pizza’s cold, buddy.”

“It was hot when I got here, pal,” Johnny sighs. He stretches out a hand, palm up. “Want me to warm it up for you?”

Peter doesn’t see why not, seeing as how the Torch is basically a walking oven. Functional as well as beautiful.

When Johnny hands it back, it’s sizzling and perfect. Johnny’s gotten great at warming up pizza over the years. Peter’s truly impressed with how much he’s improved at it since they were kids.

“Buddy,” Peter says around a mouthful of his pizza, “if you ever need a job as toaster oven, look me up.”

Johnny snorts, but doesn’t say anything. 

Oh, boy. He’s in a mood. Peter’s seen him like this before. Brooding and silent.

“So why’d you call me out here?” Peter ventures. “Because if you need me to explain how to tie your shoes again, Torchy, you’re on your own.”

Johnny’s wearing his standard pair of black boots, but that’s beside the point. Johnny knows Peter’s just kidding anyways. Peter’s pretty sure Johnny can tie shoelaces. He thinks so, at least.

There’s maybe a glimmer of a smile on Johnny’s face after Peter’s wisecrack, but it’s not the startled burst of laughter Peter’d been trying to tease out of him.

“I just…I dunno.” Johnny sighs. “Guess I just wanted to see a friendly face. Ryan dumped me again,” he confides quietly.

“Oh,” Peter says, at a loss. “I’m sorry.” This is the third time they’ve broken up in as many months. Each time Ryan would dump him for a “better” guy, and then get back together with Johnny the moment the relationship fell apart. Like Johnny was Ryan’s security net or something. His second choice. The thought is enough to make Peter see red. Johnny’s a great guy. The best. Anyone’d be lucky to date him. Lucky. “It’s probably for the best.”

“Probably,” Johnny echoes. It doesn’t sound like he really believes it.

“He wasn’t the guy for you, pal, and you know it,” Peter continues.

“I know,” Johnny admits. He sighs wearily. Peter doesn’t know if he’s ever seen Johnny looking this defeated. Broken. Run down. “I’m just…tired. Don’t you ever feel like that?”

“Tired? All the time. I’m tired right now. Give me a nice bed and I’ll sleep for twelve hours,” Peter says. He knows he’s babbling a little, but…he’s not great at the whole feelings thing.

“Not that kind of tired,” Johnny says. He takes a deep, shuddery breath. “I mean, tired of being alone. Or, I dunno, scared of being alone. I hate being alone, Pete. It’s the worst. Sometimes I think I was holding on to Ryan so tightly because I didn’t want to face what my life was like alone again. I knew he was—I’m not stupid. I knew what he was like. I just…didn’t care. As long as he kept coming back.” His mouth twists. “As long as I wasn’t alone.”

“But he’s not coming back anymore?” Peter checks.

Johnny shakes his head once, and only slightly. “No,” he says. There’s a finality to his words, a certainty. “I don’t think so.”

Peter swallows down another bite of pizza and thinks about what he should say. “You’re not going to be alone, Torch. You aren’t even alone now. You’ve got your family.”

And me, Peter wants to add, but somehow he can’t bring himself to say it.

“It’s not the same, Pete,” Johnny says, mouth tight. “As having someone to share your life with. It’s just not.” He gives Peter a knowing look. “You know it’s not as well as I do.” He shrugs, and his voice is bitter. “I just feel like I keep trying and trying to find someone to spend my life with, and the minute they see what I’m like, who I am…they all lose interest. Maybe I just don’t have anything real to offer them. Maybe that’s the problem.”

Peter has never heard anyone be more wrong. He’s frowning disapprovingly when he says, “Torch—”

His tone of voice must make what he’s about to say obvious because Johnny interrupts him.

“He said I was the worst thing that ever happened to him, Pete,” Johnny says. He tries to keep his voice even, but it’s clear that he’s deeply upset about it. “And that he wished he’d never met me. His exact words.”

“Well, you’re the single best thing that’s ever happened to me,” Peter finds himself saying. What’s more surprising is that he realizes, as he says it, that it’s true. “The best.”

Johnny goes very, very still. Peter’s not even sure he’s breathing. His eyes are wider than usual, and somehow they look impossibly bluer. Maybe it’s the dim light. Peter doesn’t know.

“Pete,” Johnny says breathlessly. “What do you mean by that?”

What does Peter mean by that? It’s an excellent question. Peter doesn’t really know either.

“I think it’s that I…like being with you,” Peter says, frowning as he searches through feelings he hadn’t even known were there. Peter’s not much for the introspection these days. “It. Makes me happy?”

It’s true too. Peter realizes that he looks forward to this. The days he gets to see Johnny. Even just get a glimpse of his lovely face. He lives for these days.

How is it possible for that to be true and yet…Peter’s never noticed before? Not consciously, at least.

Johnny’s examining Peter’s face with a piercing intensity that makes Peter feel his face heat up. Now he knows what it’s like to be on the other end of a microscope. He apologizes to every bug and spider he’s ever examined under one.

“And that’s all you meant?” Johnny asks with an earnestness Peter doesn’t get. “Just that?”

“What else would I mean?” Peter asks. He really wants to know. Maybe Johnny can help make sense of all of the confusing things Peter’s barely beginning to discover he feels.

Johnny purses his lips. “Well, Pete…when you tell someone they’re the best thing that ever happened to you, it a little bit sounds like…you know.”

Peter truly hasn’t a clue. “Like what?”

Johnny squints at him as though he can’t tell whether he’s being serious or not. “Like…you’re about to ask them out on a date or something. Peter. Is…” He takes a deep breath to steady himself, or maybe to work up the courage to ask, who knows. “…is that what you meant?”

Peter takes some time to think about it because he honestly has no idea. Does he want to go out on a date with Johnny? He’s never really thought about it before, but he does now.

He imagines what it would be like. Bringing Johnny flowers—roses, the yellow kind, because they’re his favorites—and then going out to eat with him at one of the lousy diners that he makes fun of but secretly loves, making him laugh and laugh until his sides hurt and there are tears in his eyes, spending his life making sure that there’s never again even the tiniest flicker of sadness marring those clear blue eyes, because they’d be Peter’s, all Peter’s…

Peter wants that so much he can hardly breathe. His eyes open comically wide as he realizes what it means. “Ohhhhhh,” he says. He falls back flat against the floor and shoves his hands in his hair and freaks the hell out. “Oh, my god.”

“Peter?” Johnny says, worried. “Are you okay, buddy? What the hell just happened?”

“I think I just realized that I’m in love with you,” Peter blurts out before he can think better of it. “Oh, my god. How long have I felt like this?”

Peter doesn’t know the answer to that either, but he thinks it may have been a very long time.

Johnny, mystifyingly, infuriatingly, starts to howl with laughter. He collapses back against the Statue too.

Peter, mortally offended, glares murderously at him. “I tell you that I love you and this is how you react? I am hurt, Torchy. Wounded.”

“Your f-face!” Johnny hardly manages to get out, he’s laughing so hard. He’s literally rolling on the floor and clutching at his sides. “Oh, my god, you should see your face!”

Peter throws his hands in the air. “I’m having a life-changing epiphany!” he protests. “My whole life is a lie. Let my face look how it wants!”

This just. Explains so many things. Holy hell.

“N-no,” Johnny wheezes. “You don’t g-get it. It’s not just your face.” He makes a herculean effort to get his laughter under control. “Pete, you dummy. You’re in love with me? I was in love with you first!”

Peter’s shocked, but it doesn’t take him long to, for some reason, find that hilarious. He can’t help it—he starts to laugh too. It’s all so absurd! “No,” he says. “Shut up!”

Johnny’s nodding earnestly. “For years, you moron!”

That makes Peter crack up even harder. “We are so stupid!”

Here they’ve been, wondering why none of their relationships ever worked out, and it turned out that it was because they’d been in love with each other the whole time!

“Well, you’re stupider than me, because at least I figured it out a long time ago,” Johnny points out.

“No, you’re stupider than me, because you figured it out and never said anything,” Peter shoots back. “Who knows, maybe I would have figured out how I felt if you’d said something.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Johnny says, chortling. “Don’t blame this on me, Peter Benjamin Parker. You’re the one who didn’t even notice they were in love. I mean, who does that? I’m sorry, but that’s way stupider, dude. How did you not notice?”

Peter props himself up on one elbow so he can look down at Johnny, who smiles up at him cheerfully, blue eyes shining, golden hair shimmering with the distant lights of the city. 

He’s beautiful. Peter can’t even begin to fathom how beautiful.

It makes Peter’s breath catch, and he realizes that he’s done it a thousand times before, whenever he’s been struck by Johnny’s beauty. He’d simply…never let himself feel it. Never let himself enjoy it. He’d always shoved it down, buried it away, refused to let himself think about it, about how he felt, about what it meant for him and Johnny.

For the first time in his life, he gives himself permission to feel everything, to plumb the farthest depths of his feelings for Johnny. He could spend a lifetime exploring them. Perhaps he will if he’s lucky.

He licks his lips. “You know, instead of arguing about who’s dumber, we could be—“

“Having sex?” Johnny finishes for him. He smiles, and Peter’s heart flutters. “Good plan. I approve.”

Peter’s taken aback, but he doesn’t object. “I was going to say ‘making out,’ but yours works too.”

Johnny’s still laughing when Peter kisses him for the very first time.

[helloelizabethsmithposts]

GLORIFYING GODHEAD, FOR ALL ETERNITY, AND FOREVER, AND EVERMORE, AMEN, AND AMEN!!!! THANK GOD TRULY FOR EVERYTHING, MOST DEFINITELY, MY LOVING, SWEET SMELLING SAVIOR LORD JESUS CHRIST KING OF GLORY!!!!

Ni Ha Ma, Ohayo, And Annyeong Haseyo, Good Morning Everyone, Oh Snap I Forgot To Tell You All This Very Important Detail {ATTENTION TO JAPAN, ASIA, AND KOREA} I'M THAT CHILD GODHEAD ORDAINED A LONG TIME AGO, TO PROTECT YOUR VERY COUNTRIES, BEFORE THE VERY AGE OF 18, I REQUESTED PERSONALLY TO BE A VIRTUOUS WOMAN ULTIMATELY, BECAUSE I KNEW HOW PEOPLE HEARTS LOVED MONEY SO VERY MUCH, THEY DIDN'T CARE WHO THEY HURTED! GODHEAD ASKED ME THIS" ARE YOU SURE OF WHAT YOUR REQUESTING? I TOLD FATHER GOD YES, IT WAS WHAT I WANTED, TO BE THE ONE WHEN THINGS GOT TOO OUT OF HAND, I WOULD TURN AROUND AND REMIND EVERYONE, IN THIS WORLD THAT GOD'S GLORY, IS HIS GLORY ALONE, AND NO ONE ELSE!!!! TO USE YOUR GIFTS, AND TALENTS, TO MAKE YOURSELF AN WALKING IDOL, IS AND A DENOUNCE[ A SENTENCE OF EVIL AND DEATH SENTENCE] DEUTERONOMY 30. IT SCARED ME, BACK IN THE DAY, BECAUSE, I ONLY QUESTIONED GODHEAD, WHAT MADE HIM{ELOHIM, BECOME SO VERY DESTRUCTABLE, THEN I REALIZED WHEN I HAD THOSE HOSPITAL, EVENTS IT WAS THEIR, THAT I FOUND OUT THE WICKEDNESS IN MAN'S HEART!!! JAPAN, I'M SO VERY SORRY, I HAD AMNESIA, THAT I FORGOT, TO PRAY FOR YOU ALL BECAUSE THE VERY FIRST BATTLE OF MY LIFE, I WAS TOLD ABOUT PEOPLE REALLY WALKING IN THE YIN&YANG{WHITE=LIGHT&BLACK=DARKNESS}!!! IT TOOK IT VERY HARD, CAUSE I ONLY WANTED MY FAMILIES HAPPINESS, I NEVER CARED ABOUT MONEY OR THINGS, BECAUSE IT MEANS NOTHING WHEN YOU CAN'T SHARE IT WITH THOSE YOU TRULY LOVE!!! I'M A CEO OF KINGDOM OF HEAVEN SINGING MINISTRIES, IT'S HONESTLY BEEN HIDE SINCE 2010 FEBRUARY, AFTER A CAR ACCIDENT, WHERE A FAKE BASKET PLAYER, HAD SLAMMED ON BRAKES, WHILE TALKING ON THE PHONE, IT HIT THE CAR I WAS DRIVING, BUT THIS IS THE THING I'M REALLY UPSET WITH EVERYONE, LIKE FIREFIGHTERS,POLICE,AND AMBULANCE, BECAUSE THEY WHERE DOING THINGS TO ABUSE THE AUTHORITY OF DOING THAT WHICH IS RIGHT, A PERSON THAT'S TRULY A RACIST, SHOULD NOT GET INTO POSITION, IN THIS WORLD, TILL THEY GET THEIRSELVES RIGHT FIRST, IT IS OUT OF ORDER TO GET A JOB OR ANYTHING JUST FOR MONEY[CAUSE YOU ALL ARE ONLY FEEDING THAT BONDAGE MINDSET EVEN MORE, AND YOU ALL KNOW YOU WILL BE GOING TO HELL!!!!] YOU ALL HAVE BEEN BLASPHEMING THE SPIRIT OF GODHEAD, FOR DECADES, QUOTING SCRIPTURES & NOT LIVING IN RIGHTEOUSNESS!!! UNDERSTAND THIS WHEN GODHEAD [HAS APPOINTED A CHOSEN PROPHET OF HIS TO SHOW UP, WE JUDGE THROUGH THE SPIRIT OF GODHEAD IN US, THE WICKEDNESS, THAT THESE WEEDS AND TARES, HAVE DONE CRUELLY, AND SELFISHLY HURTING INNOCENT PEOPLE, WHO DIDN'T KNOW A THING HONESTLY!!!! THIS RIGHTEOUS QUEEN OF LIGHT{ALPHA AND OMEGA WIFE, WILL NOT PLAY NO MORE WITH YOU ALL, {BECAUSE THIS HIS WRONG, I'M THE OTHER TRUE PROTECTOR OF ASIA,JAPAN, AND KOREA=MUSIC,ELECTRONICS,AND BUSINESS OWNER}!!!  AMERICA THESE 3 VERY LAWS WHERE, FORBIDDEN TO EVER BEEN APPROVED IN THIS WORLD= 1. ABORTION 2. WEED 3.GAY MARRIAGE!!! IT'S TRULY A REVOLUTION-REVOLT IN FULL FORM!!! THE LEGISLATIVE,JUDICIAL,EXECUTIVE BRANCH, YOU DUMMIES, I WAS MY DADDY'S HISTORY GIRL, WHO KNEW ALOT ABOUT THE BOOKS, I HAD TEACHERS NEGOTIATING WITH ME IN THE CLASSROOM, FROM KINDER- 6TH GRADE, IF I DIDN'T CHANGE THAT D+, TO SOMETHING HIGHER THEY WHERE CALLING MY DAD ON ME!!! LOL, I TOOK THAT TEST SO VERY FAST AND WELL LOOK IT WAS A+!!!! LOL, I HAD FUN WITH THOSE GOOD TEACHERS, BECAUSE THEY HONESTLY TAUGHT ME THIS, WAS TO VALUE GOD'S WORD NO MATTER WHAT IN THIS LIFE! BECAUSE THEY ALWAYS ASKED ME HOW ARE YOU ALL SO VERY DIFFERENT, I JUST TOLD PEOPLE I TRULY UPHOLD GOD'S WORD, NO MATTER WHERE I AM, BECAUSE GOD KNOWS EVERYONE, AND TO JUST FAKE IN FRONT OF PEOPLE JUST TO PRETEND NO THANK YOU!!! I ALWAYS WILL HAVE THIS SAYING FOREVER= WHAT YOU SEE IS WHAT YOU GET WITH ME!!! MEANING I'M GOING TO WALK IN THE LIGHT AS HE IS IN THE LIGHT{ KING OF GLORY-MY VERY LOVING AND VERY SWEET SMELLING SAVIOR LORD JESUS CHRIST MY KING, FOREVER AND EVERMORE FOR ALL ETERNITY WITH YOU MY VERY DEAREST, PRECIOUS, BEAUTIFUL SHINNING SUN& STAR LOVING, PEACEFUL, AND JOYFUL PARTNER FOR THIS LIFETIME, DEDICATING, AND CONSECRATING EVERYTHING I DESIGN IN THIS LIFE, JUST FOR YOUR GLORIOUS NAMESAKE{YAHWEH&YESHUA}!!!! JUST FOR BRINGING ME THROUGH THOSE HARD TIMES, BUT IT IS SOMETHING TO THINK ABOUT JUST RIGHT BEFORE THAT 3RD BATTLE MY KING OF GLORY, SO SURPRISINGLY JAPAN, WAS HIT QUITE HARD, MAYBE I NEED TO DO SOME MORE VERY DEEP RESEARCH INTO THIS, CAUSE SOMETHING IS VERY SHADY!!!! WAIT A MINUTE DIDN'T COASTA RICO, HAVE SOMETHING VERY SIMILAR!!!!  YO KOH{ KINGDOM OF HEAVEN, THESE DIRTY BASTARDS BEEN UP TO SOME SNEAKY STUFF THROUGH THE YEARS, THEN WANTS TO PRETEND LIKE, THEY DON'T KNOW WHAT'S GOING ON!!! YES, IT TRUE CAUSE ALL THROUGH THOSE EVENTS, I DID THINGS TO TELL PEOPLE I WASN'T CRAZY, BUT YOUR WICKED ASS STILL, PUT THESE DAMN LIES ON MY RECORD, BUT I BET YOUR DAMN RECORDS, HAVE BEEN CLEAR AND FUNKY!!!! TUPAC DIDN'T LIE, YALL TRY TO DAMAGE THE RIGHTEOUS NAME, WHILE THE WICKED HIDE THEIR CRIMES IN THESE ROACH INFESTED OFFICES'S!!!!  I TOLD THOSE CUSTOMERS WE HAVE SOME WALKING ROACHES, OF ALL COLORS, SHAPES, AND SIZE, AROUND THE WORLD DOING SOME VERY SHADY STUFF.... BUT YALL JUST DIDN'T KNOW I WAS ALWAYS FATHER GOD, INFORMATION PERSON, TELLING ON EVERYBODY ASS, I NEVER LIED IN MY LIFE, SO WE CAUGHT EVERYBODY, THAT THOUGHT WE DIDN'T KNOW WHO YALL ASS CHOSE TO SERVE!!!! I KNEW YALL ASS WAS FAKE, CAUSE I TOLD MY CREW A LONG TIME AGO, WHEN PEOPLE LOVE MONEY SO DAMN MUCH, THEY SHOW EVERYTHING-JUDAS& JEZEBEL, DON'T RUN NO WORLD, THEY HAVE HAVE RAN THEIR ASS INTO VERY TROUBLED WATERS,VERY DEEP DITCH, AND A VERY LAKEY OF FIRE{ FLAMING&BLAZING PIT JUST FOR ALL THOSE DAMN CHILDREN OF LIES!!!!}   {POOR JAPAN,KOREA, AND ASIA, CAUSE IT WASN'T CAUSE OF YOUR COLOR, BUT THE SENSE OF STUDYING THE HOLY BIBLE, THESE BASTARDS PLOTTED ON YOU ALL, CAUSE THE INTELLIGENCE OF RIGHTEOUSNESS, IT'S ON A CLASS OF IT'S OWN= ELECT=ELITE CLASS}! THAT'S WHY I TOLD YOU ALL, YOU NEED TO DISCERN, WHO IS IN YOUR COUNTRY, AND WHO VISITS YOUR COUNTRY, BECAUSE NOT ALL PEOPLE HAVE THE RIGHT INTENTIONS OF GOING INTO YOUR COUNTRIES! I WOULD ONLY GO, HOWEVER GODHEAD LEADS ME BUT IT'S TO RESTORE YOUR VERY COUNTRIES AND YOUR HEARTS, FROM BEING HEARTBROKEN NEVER EVER AGAIN, THROUGH GOD'S WORD, WE WILL TRULY, HEAL YOUR HEARTS COMPLETELY SO WE CAN ALL MOVE FORWARD TOGETHER!!!! WHAT DO YOU SAY MY TRUE AND VERY DEAR FAMILIES CHOSEN BY GODHEAD{JAPANESE,CHINESE[ASIA],AND KOREA!!! IT'S BEEN FAR TOO LONG, SO MAYBE WE CAN PERHAPS COLLABORATE, AND BRING BACK SOME OLD CLASSICAL GAMES,MOVIES, AND MUSIC, WITH A VERY NEW TWIST AND CHALLENGE TO IT THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN (WAY) STYLE!!! ARIGATO,XIEXIE,GOSAMANIDA, & SARANGHAEYO EVERYONE FOREVER! THANK YOU IN JAPAN,ASIA,AND KOREA & I LOVE YOU EVERYONE FOREVER!  THANK GODHEAD I'VE FINALLY MATURED INTO THE WOMAN OF GOD{THAT YAHWEH&YESHUA TRAINED ME TO BE, JUST CONSECRATED TO GOD'S LIGHT, THE LOYAL ONE, HEY BOAZ WHEREVER YOU ARE OUT THEIR IN THIS WORLD, KNOW THIS MY HEART WILL ALWAYS BE ONE WITH YOU ALWAYS MY TRUE VIRTUE OF PATIENCE, PARTNER OF RIGHTEOUSNESS{IT WAS YOUR LOVE FOR MY HEART, THAT REALLY GAVE ME THE COURAGE, THE ENDURANCE TO JUST FREELY LIVE,LAUGH, SMILE ONLY FOR GODHEAD AND YOU{BOAZ}, BECAUSE YOU HAVE REALLY HELPED ME SINCERELY, MORE THAN YOU COULD EVER HAVE KNOWN, MONEY IS JUST A SIDE BENEFIT, LIKE GODHEAD HAD BLESSED MR.MYLES MONROE TO TALK ABOUT IN THOSE REDISCOVERING THE KINGDOM MESSAGES!!! YOU ALL CAN'T STOP THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN REPRESENTATIVE ELIZABETH L. SMITH, CAUSE I'M A RIGHTFUL ROYAL QUEEN OF THE KINGDOM OF HEAVEN, AND YALL MESSED WITH THE WRONG CREW THIS TIME FOR SURE!!! THIS IS NO TREAT, BUT A PROMISE INDEED, BECAUSE YOU ALL CHOSE, TO WALK IN THE VERY PATH MY HUSBAND ALPHA AND OMEGA, DIED ON THE CROSS FOR[SIN], YOU ALL HAVE ANGERED GODHEAD, I SHOULD HAVE KNOWN SUDDENLY IN NOVEMBER, WHEN GOD{ABEOJI} WANTED ME TO POST THOSE MESSAGES AND VIDEO'S THAT YALL, DID SOMETHING THAT WAS VERY DANGEROUS, GODHEAD HATED!!! YOU DON'T USE THE VERY THINGS GODHEAD GAVE US IN CONTROL OF TO MANIPULATE, THE VERY WILL OF A HUMAN BEING SOUL!!!  I DIDN'T THINK ABOUT IT BEFORE,BUT THEIR WAS A MEXICAN BOY, WHO LIED LIKE HE WAS A MAN IN ASKING ME LET ME TASTE SOMETHING, LOVL I SAID YOUR NOT TASTING NOTHING BUT THIS AND SHOWED HIM MY FIST,LAUGHING OUT VERY LOUD, BUT I TOLD HIM BE VERY CAREFUL BECAUSE DEPENDING ON THE ARTIST MUSIC, IF YOU ARE VERY WEAK THEIR MUSIC CAN LURE YOU INTO SOME DEADLY THINGS, THAT YOUR SOUL WILL BE LOST FOR ALL ETERNITY!!! MUSIC AND THE TECHNOLOGY INDUSTRY, WHAT HAVE YALL DONE, YOU CAN'T VIOLATE GOD'S ORDER AND THINK HE WILL BLESS, YOU FOR THIS WICKEDNESS, CAUSE THE HOLY BIBLE TOLD ME, THAT THOSE WHO HATE GOD, HE WILL DESTROY YOU IN HIS(GODHEAD'S TIMING), YOU DON'T USE NOTHING GOD GAVE YOU, TO MAKE IT ALL ABOUT ME,MYSELF, AND I, YOU REVOLTED ON GODHEAD, TRULY, AND YOU ALL HAVE DECEIVED BILLION'S UPON BILLION'S OF INNOCENT PEOPLE MONEY, JUST BECAUSE YOU WANTED YOURSELF TO LOOK GOOD, BUT REALLY THEY{KOH ALL OF THOSE IN HEAVEN WITH FATHER GOD} HAVE BEEN LAUGHING THIS WHOLE TIME, SAYING YALL IS SO VERY STUPID!!!! REALLY YOU ARE, CAUSE, JAPAN, KOREA, AND ASIA, FATHER GOD TOLD ME ALONG TIME AGO TO PROTECT THEM I JUST, FORGOT AFTER MY DAD,BROTHER, AND SISTER, TRYING TO COPE WITH EVERYTHING TILL, FATHER GOD TOLD ME TO KEEP PRAYING FOR BOAZ, SO I STAY VERY FAITHFUL TO PRAYING FOR YOU MY VERY DEAR PARTNER, CAUSE SHOOT, THIS IS SOME JACKED UP STUFF, WE HEIRS OF THE THRONE OF GODHEAD{HIS MAJESTY} HOLY MEN& HOLY WOMEN OF GODHEAD, HOW IN THE HELL, DID WE GET BLAMED, ON CRIMES WE NEVER EVER COMMITTED!!! CAUSE TO DO ANYTHING GODHEAD HATES, YEAH YOU BET THAT PERSON IS GOING TO HELL!!! US REAL CHURCH, WHERE NOT STUPID AT ALL, WE DON'T CARE ABOUT FITTING IN, CAUSE GODHEAD SET US APART FOR HIS USE ONLY!!! WHICH MEANS THEIR IS ALOT OF FALSE ADVERTISING,EXTORTION, CORRUPTION, VERY BAD BUSINESS DEALS ALL AROUND THE WORLD- ALL BECAUSE OF MATERIAL THINGS!!! THAT WHAT'S YALL GET THOUGHT FATHER GOD DIDN'T HAVE NO MORE BABY GENIUS AROUND ON EARTH, SO YALL ASS COULD MESS THIS WORLD UP, I KNEW YALL TRIFLING FUNKY ASS MOON BASTARDS WAS UP TO SOME VERY DEEP STUFF!!!! THOSE DEGREES GOT YALL INTO TROUBLE, BECAUSE IT CAN ALSO BE CLASSED UP UNDER THE WEATHER COLD OR HOT!!!!!  I DON'T NEED NO STINKIN DEGREE IN THIS WORLD, CAUSE MY FATHER GOD SCHOOLED ME INTO EVERYTHING, WHICH MEANS, YALL CAN'T AFFORD ME NO MORE!!! I WAS A HIDDEN CEO OF KOHM[KINGDOM OF HEAVEN MINISTRIES, ALL OF THESE YEARS, I WORKED AND PLAYED JUST FOR FUN, WORKING WITH DUMBASS MANAGERS, THAT WASN'T REALLY NO MANAGER, JUST A VERY STUPID, AND A VERY FUNKY NOVICE WITH A MAN MADE TITLE!!!! I TOLD YALL IN THIS WORLD FATHER AND I PLAYED YALL ALL.... WE PLAYED THE GAME TO WIN ONLY, SO YES WE VERY, VERY,VERY, GRATEFUL TO MY FATHER GOD,MY HUSBAND JESUS CHRIST, MY FRIEND HOLY SPIRIT, AND ALL THE HOST OF HEAVEN, MAN YALL ANGELS OF GOD NEEDS A RAISE, FOR PROTECTING BOAZ AND I, CAUSE I STILL STAY INTO STUFF AFTER ALL OF THESE YEARS, SHHHHOOOOOO NAH, I GUESS THIS KIND OF NATURE WAS TRULY, HOW YOU MADE ME TO BE(SPECIALLY FOR YOU ALWAYS YAHWEH& YESHUA)!!! THAT MOVIE CELESTIAL LEGEND YUU WATASE, IF ONLY YOU REALLY KNEW, HOW MUCH THAT ONE VERY MOVIE WAS TO ME, BECAUSE SADLY IT IS TRULY, MY REAL LIFESTORY!!!! I KNEW IT THE VERY MOMENT WHEN I WENT INTO SAM GOODY STORE AT THAT TIME, RIGHT AFTER THAT DREADFUL DAY, WAS STILL DRAWN TO GO BUY SOMETHING AND WHEN I WALKED PAST THE ANIME COLLECTION SECTION THAT ONE BOX SERIES, LOOKED SO VERY FAMILIAR, BUT SOMETHING SO VERY ROMANTIC AS WELL!!!! SO I'VE BEEN A SERIES FAN OF YOUR MOVIES FOR A VERY LONG TIME MY DEAR, AND VERY PRECIOUS SISTER, I HOPE SOMEDAY MAYBE WE CAN MEET UP, CAUSE I WOULD LIKE TO PRESENT SOME KIND OF GIFT TO YOU, HOPEFULLY GODHEAD WILL BLESS ME TO DESIGN SOMETHING JUST TO SHOW YOU A TOKEN OF APPRECIATION TO YOU MY LOVELY SISTER YUU WATASE, FOR MAKING THAT ONE MOVIE, I KNEW GODHEAD, HAD THE 1 MOVIE OUT JUST FOR ME, CAUSE EVERYTIME, WHEN I FELT DISCOURAGE AND MISSING MY LOVED ONES TRULY, AND DEARLY, I WOULD BUST OUT IN UGLY CRYING SOUNDS, LOVL[LAUGHING OUT VERY LOUD], BUT IT MADE ME SMILE EVEN MORE!!!! YOUR TRUE ORIGINAL OLD MOVIES LIKE THESE, IS WHAT MADE YOU ALL TRULY SHINE, LIKE KOHH{KINGDOM OF HEAVEN HEIRS}, BECAUSE YOUR PRODUCTS SAID AND SHOWED THE HEARTS OF YOU ALL{JAPAN, ASIA, AND KOREA, NO MATTER WHAT OTHERS, TRY TO TELL YOU ALL, TO DISTRACT YOU ALL, AND TRY TO MAKE YOU FEEL LESS, IGNORE THEM BECAUSE WE ARE NO SLAVES, TO NO MAN, OR NO CREEPING THING ON OR UNDER THIS EARTH, WE SHOULD TREAD,TRAMPLE,WALK, OR RUN OVER OR ENEMIES, USE THE HOLY BIBLE WORD'S THAT GODHEAD{ELOHIM- HAS GIVEN YOU ALL THESE RIGHTS IN THE EARTH, THROUGH JESUS CHRIST OUR LORD AND SAVIOR, YOU HAVE TO PUT YOUR ENEMIES IN THEIR PLACE!!!! BECAUSE THIS IS THE VERY PROBLEM IN THIS WORLD, PEOPLE WHO HATE GOD, SHOULDN'T EVEN QUOTE THE HOLY BIBLE, KNOWING THEY DON'T SERVE OUR LORD AND SAVIOR LORD JESUS CHRIST THE ANOINTED ONE{THE RISEN ONE}!!! IN PROVERBS IT WAS STATED EVEN A FOOL IS CONSIDERED WISE, WHEN THEY ARE QUIET!!!! BUT THESE DAYS, I KNOW HEAVEN AND ALL GODHEAD CREW WITH HIM FIND THIS VERY FUNNY, BUT THE TRUTH IS THIS IS THE VERY KIND OF STUFF GOD'S CHILD ALWAYS HAVE HATED!!! I COULD NEVER STAND PEOPLE JUST TELLING LIES, AND SAY THEY NEVER SAID THESE THINGS!!! I DON'T SEE THE POINT IN TELLING OTHER PEOPLE YOU LOVE GOD, WHEN YOU KNOW YOUR ASS, AIN'T NEVER LOVED NO ONE, BUT YOUR OWN DAMN SELF!!! SO MANY OF YOU ALL, ALWAYS SAYING HOLY WORDS, AND WE KNOW WE ARE AN UPSIDE KINGDOM, SO ITS THE VERY OPPOSITE OF WHAT YOU ALL SAY!!! AND LORD GOD ALMIGHTY, KNOWS I'M SO VERY TIRED OF THESE DAMN KNOW IT ALL PEOPLE, YALL ARE THE WORSE EVER, HOW IN THE HOCKEY YOU BRING YOUR ASS, FROM SOMEWHERE ELSE THE WRONG WAY{SNUCK THEIR ASS, OVER HERE WITHOUT TRUE DOCUMENTATION}, THEN WAN'T'S TO FREELOAD OFF OF EVERYTHING WE HAVE OVER HERE!!! AND AMERICA YALL SHOULD BE VERY GLAD SHEKINA GLORY REALLY, KEEPS ME THESE VERY DAYS, SITTING YALL ASS IN THESE POSITIONS PITYING THE VERY PEOPLE YOU ALL APPROVED THAT HATE GOD, INTO A COUNTRY THAT HAS GODHEAD NAME IN AND OVER IT AND EVERYTHING!!!! DAMN NEAR THEY SHOULD HAVE HAD YALL ASS, GETTING SHOT UP WITH THOSE DAMN NEEDLE'S, AND SEE HOW YOU WOULD FEEL ALL OF THESE YEARS, AND YOUR VERY SKIN STILL, HAS THE MARKS AND PROOF OF THESE DAMN WICKED ASS PLOTS, AND WICKED CROOKED ASS HANDOUT!!!! TALKING ABOUT SOME DAMN UNSOLVED MYSTERIES, AIN'T NO DAMN UNSOLVED MYSTERIES, YALL ASS PLOTTED ON TUPAC, CAUSE HE WAS STATING FACTS ABOUT THE WHITE HOUSE PRESIDENT AT THE TIME!!!( HERE THEY GO RIGHT IN THIS ORDER+1. BUSH,2.CLINTON,3.BUSH,4.CLINTON,5. OBAMA) ALL OF THESE PAST PRESIDENT'S ALL HAD ONE THING IN COMMON= { VERY HIDE RACIST}!!! A PRESIDENT WHO HATES ANOTHER RACE!!!!  HOW DO I KNOW THIS I RESEARCH EVERYTHING, AND PRAY TO GODHEAD ABOUT IT, SO JUST IN CASE, SOMEBODY IS WICKED AGAIN, I STAY SO VERY CLOSE TO GOD IN PRAYING, AND WORSHIP!!!! CAUSE YALL LOVE MONEY TOO DAMN MUCH!!!!  AND DIDN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT THE YOUNGER GENERATION, JUST HOT IN LUST- HOT IN FUNK!!!!  JESUS CHRIST IS VERY SWEET= SMELL VERY GOOD, OH AMEN!!! BUT LU THE FOOL IS VERY STINKY=SMELL VERY FUNKY!!!! OOOPPPSSSYYY, I DID IT AGAIN ABEOJI,OPPA,HEONG,YOONA,NOONA, AND CHINGU, AND HOST OF HEAVEN, I'VE TOLD EVERYTHING AGAIN, WOOO WEEE, THIS IS VERY FUN!!!! PRAISING THE LORD GOD ALMIGHTY, CREATOR OF HEAVEN AND THE EARTH, FOR ALL ETERNITY, IN DIVINE LOVE, DIVINE PEACE, AND DIVINE JOY IN THE HOLY GHOST ALWAYS! TO GOD BE THE GLORY FOREVER, AND EVERMORE, AMEN, AND AMEN!!!! ENJOY SENDING LOTS OF  HUG'S JUST TO YOU, AND ONLY FOR YOU MY ONE AND VERY,TRULY, VIRTUOUS PATIENT MAN AMONG MEN[OH DEAR MY BOAZ] ALWAYS, AND I'M FOREVER YOURS{GODHEAD & BOAZ}!!! OH BROTHER TUPAC, THIS IS THE VERY, VERY, VERY, GOODLIFE,,LIFE IS VERY GOOD, WHEN YOUR TRULY WALKING UPRIGHT IN MY KING OF GLORY-MR.BLAZING EYES, HAIR AS WOOL, BODY AS BRASS, AND SWORD IN HIS MOUTH{ CUT THEIR WICKED ASS DOWN} AMEN, AND AMEN!!!! THIS IS A VERY MARVELOUS DAY JUST ENJOYING MY FATHER GOD{OH ABEOJI & TOUSAN} I LOVE YOU LOOOOOOOOLLLLL FOREVER, AND EVERMORE, AMEN!!!      

[anavoliselenu]

Manwhore chapter 10

He leans forward in his seat, and instead of doing the expected, which is teasing me because he shocked me, he looks absolutely sober. “You’ve got to know this about me,” he says as he cups my face in his warm palm. “I indulge in anything that I want. I’m not in the business of denying myself what I want. I’m not in the business of denying those around me of anything they want. I’m yours if you want me, Selena.”

He gazes at me quietly.

“We don’t fit,” I say. “I just want to find a spot, warm not cold, with a nice view, everything I could want, and I want to stop moving and stay there—in that spot. And you will never stand still.”

His eyes darken more; he doesn’t answer.

He strokes the back of a finger slowly down the curve of my cheek, his eyes looking into me like he wants something from me. Like he wants more than something—everything. Or maybe anything, that’s how hungry they look. “I think we fit just right,” he murmurs at last.

The door swings open and my best friend appears. “Why am I not surprised right now?”

I groan and push to my feet, uselessly trying to hide all the evidence of a make-out: hair tangled by my own head as I rolled it on the couch, smeared lipstick, rumpled clothes. I’m blushing hard, and Justin is clearly amused by my embarrassment. God, I must look ridiculous with my blonde hair and red face. I turn to him and point in mock warning, “And don’t think you’re getting a free pass, I’m hearing that story,” I tell him, for Gina’s sake.

“Hey, you’re staying with me tonight,” he says, confused.

I stand there, looking at him as Gina tugs on my hand. “Sorry,” I finally say, wincing a little. “Gotta go.”

On his feet, Justin lifts his jacket, and he looks at Gina as he folds it over his arm. “How about I drive her home?”

“How about ‘no’?” She smirks.

“I’m Justin, by the way.”

“I saw you at our place, remember? I’ve also seen your face on only every magazine and despite the fact that you’re hotter in person, I’m completely immune. Say goodbye to Selena now.”

She takes my arm, and Justin says, “Do you want to go with me tonight, Selena?”

His face is inscrutable now, but he’s putting out some major waves of annoyance.

“No, sorry. I have a campout in a few days, so I really should get some rest. ’Bye,” I awkwardly say as I turn to leave with his eyes on me. Oh, shit, fuck, that went so bad just now!

I run my hands over my hot cheeks before Gina drags me down one of the long tunnel halls. “Nothing happened,” I mumble, in answer to the big bold question mark pasted on her forehead.

“Okay, I’m saying it,” begins Gina. “Justin is absolutely bad news. Workwise, heartwise, you could not pick a worse guy than Paul except for Justin . . . and his two friend creeps. Selena, you don’t have to tell me what happened, I can already see he’s totally got you pinned against the wall. You’re blushing like a carrot.”

“What do you mean I’m blushing like a carrot? I’m orange?” My eyes wide, I’m freaking out.

“Selena, you don’t know it yet but you don’t stand a chance! And that dude Tahoe totally eye-fucked me right now when I hunted you at Justin’s table.”

“I do not blush orange, Gina!”

“I swear Tahoe totally eye-fucked me and my heart still hasn’t recovered.”

“Orange? It has to have been the Tunnel lights! Please tell me you meant cherry. At least cherry is a prettier shade of blush than freaking orange?”

“You’re red! Okay? Relax, Justin won’t know your name in a few days when he wakes up with four naked floozies.”

My mouth flaps open to reply, but all I can say, as I come down from my orgasmic high, is, “If Justin’s bad news, so is Tahoe, okay? I don’t want him playing with you.”

“I don’t like any of these manwhores playing with you. I’m starting not to like this project.” She seizes my shoulders and whips me around. “Tell me you don’t like Justin?”

“I . . .” I don’t know what to say. I don’t want to hurt her, I don’t want to lie, I don’t even know what I’m doing, so I say, “My ovaries kind of like him.” I add, “A little,” when her mouth purses grimly.

“Oh no.” She shakes her head wildly. “No, Selena.”

It’s no use. I came in his arms at the club. I move in bed tonight and I can smell him on my skin. I can still hear him inviting me to be with him while I find my safe spot. I want to know what it’s like to lie next to him without anything between us. I have a thousand questions floating in my head, and one single ache between my legs. More than anything, I want to text him and say, I had a good time tonight. But do I really have the courage to open up this way? Maybe if he had a different history. Maybe if he were that normal guy. Maybe if I weren’t so focused on a job rather than a partner. Maybe in another life.

Monday trails on at a tortoise’s pace. Wake up. Coffee. Work. Emails. Editing yesterday’s draft. Helen’s interrogation about what’s going on. Victoria coming over with wide eyes. “It worked, didn’t it? I heard Justin was seen with a platinum blonde on his lap!”

“Shh,” I laugh and pull her close, and then I don’t want to talk about him to her. Sometimes when I write I don’t want to talk about my subject: I protect it and nurture it in my heart before I pound the keys and then it’s out.

It’s different with this man. I can’t bear to share him at all. Not even with my friends. I don’t understand why I feel like putting a bubble around us where nobody can have an opinion and nobody can take him away. Not floozies or his lifestyle, and not my friends. “I did have luck but nothing happened. You know those guys—they just flirt.”

“Oh, well, flirt back harder.” She winks and walks past.

Fuck. I groan and slump in my desk when Valentine walks by with much the same tune.

“Platinum blonde? People are asking on his social media. I know of only one platinum blonde . . . so speak now, platinum blonde. In fact, give me a few tips for tonight’s date.”

“Valentine, you have a date? Wow, love is in the air. Boy or girl?”

“Female. I’m taking her to greasy Chinese to make sure she knows how to pig out properly. I hate having dinner with a little stick. Which is why it’s so hot to dine with a man. Nothing gets me going like a healthy appetite.”

I keep surfing the internet, researching.

“Did you know penguins are monogamous?” I ask.

“Yes, I was among that tribe once but have rebelled. See, I’m no longer going to be restrained by traditional dating rules, and neither should you. Oh, wait, you don’t date. Do you?”

I smirk. “Just because you didn’t change my mind doesn’t mean nobody else can.”

“See! You ARE dating him.”

“NO! NO! Just . . . silence, please. You need to go and . . . meditate. To your desk. Shoo!”

I field questions all day, pretending that last night didn’t give my little world a little too big of a shake.

17

NIGHT

This Sunday, at another neighborhood campout, I’m still thinking about the club as I scan my phone for new links about him. Strange. He’s been rather socially quiet lately. There’s hardly been any big party he’s been linked to since that after-party he refused to allow me to attend.

I notice in the back of my mind that there have been about five guys parading in and out of the park, setting up what I think is the biggest-ass tent I’ve ever seen in my life. Everyone is settling into their sleeping bags, snacking on nuts and berries or marshmallows. I turn to look at the big-ass tent again and wonder what the hell is going on.

“Hey, do you know whose tent that is?” I ask the girl settled next to me, a frequent campout attendee named Rio who’s organizing her stuff next to her sleeping bag.

She turns to look at the big-ass tent situated at the edge of the camping site and shrugs lightly. “I have no idea, but whoever’s in that tent really wants to make a statement.”

I laugh a little and turn back to my sleeping bag. The men haven’t come back in like ten minutes, so I think the tent is finished.

I place my sleeping bag next to Rio’s. The sun is setting, and everyone seems to be winding down. Deciding I need to tune them out and try to relax and gear up to hunt you-know-who next weekend, I take out my earplugs and listen to some music, lying down on my back and looking at the sun drift in through the leaves of the trees. Occasionally a gust of wind comes, and I feel it cool my skin and move my hair.

I breathe in deeply, enjoying the feel of grass beneath my flimsy sleeping bag. I’ve had it for years now. I took it to my first sleepover in seventh grade, and I’ve been using it at these campouts, so over the years it’s lost a lot of its cushion, but I refuse to get rid of it.

Rio taps my side and I sit up for a moment, reaching out to take a marshmallow from her hand, and in my peripherals, I see a dark figure. I turn around and see Justin Justin getting out of his car, swinging a duffel bag over his shoulder. I feel like my heart just tripped inside my chest. I turn to look at Rio and see that everyone is glancing at Justin and whispering in each other’s ear. Great.

Rio stares. “This is not the kind of candy I expected us to have at the campout.”

I gulp and focus on chewing the stupid marshmallow in my mouth.

Justin makes his way over to his tent, admiring his employees’ handiwork and placing his duffel bag on the ground. He scans the crowd, looking for someone, and I feel my heart stumble again. Everyone’s trying really hard to act normal, but I can sense their attention is fixed on the six-foot-plus man in black slacks and a white shirt standing next to a big-ass ten-person tent. Like Rio’s, their faces display open amazement as they speculate and probably start catching on to who that man is.

A young strawberry blonde stumbles over. “Justin? What are you doing here?” she asks as her chest starts to heave a little too fast.

Justin looks at her. He seems to be trying to place her when the blonde speaks again.

“Tammy!” she tells him, almost giggling and ready to explode. “Tammy from the Ice Box, remember? You were there with your friends, I was there with my friends. . . .”

“Oh, that’s right,” he murmurs with no inflection, and then lifts his hand in a casual goodbye. “Good to see you, Tammy.”

He leaves her gaping longingly at his retreating back and heads straight—straight—toward me. Oh god. Since when did he spot me?

I faintly hear myself saying, “I’ll be right back” to Rio, or maybe to myself, as I sling my bag across my chest, stand, and dust myself off. I feel several pairs of eyes follow me toward Justin and his big-ass tent.

I can hear the grass and leaves crunch beneath my feet as we walk toward each other. He’s smiling at me, and once again, I feel myself blush a little.

“Aren’t you a little out of your element, Justin?” I laugh. He’s wearing his black suit with ease, those black slacks covering his long legs, and a white shirt that molds perfectly to his toned chest.

He smirks and eyes me up and down. “I was looking for you.”

“How’d you know I’d be here?” I ask.

Then I remember what I said at the Tunnel. My heart kind of warms a little bit that he came looking for me tonight. Why?

I gesture to his tent. “Nice little house you got there.”

He laughs. “House?”

“Yeah, you can fit what, like, ten people in there?”

“I was only planning on two,” he says in his deep voice.

I raise my eyebrow at him. “Two?”

“Yeah.” He adds, “You and me.”

My breath kind of gets stuck in my throat.

“Um, I’m sleeping with Rio over by the oak.” I point back to our sleeping bags.

He scrunches his brows. “Where’s your tent?”

“I don’t have one, my sleeping bag is all I need.”

He looks at me like I’m crazy.

I laugh. “Do you always have to be the center of attention? You know everyone else is sleeping in sleeping bags just like me, right?”

“I don’t care about everyone else—I care about you.” He looks down at me with those killer green eyes. “So you’re sleeping in my tent.”

Before I can protest, he takes my hand and leads me to the tent.

“Wait, I need to get my sleeping bag.”

“You don’t need it, I brought one,” he says over his shoulder as he continues pulling me inside the tent.

Once I’m inside, I can see this tent isn’t for ten people; it’s probably for like twenty. The ceiling is about seven feet tall. Or maybe a little lower, since Justin has to bend down a little to fit inside the tent. There’s a huge sleeping bag already inside that looks more like a mattress to me.

I can’t help laughing.

“What?” He’s grinning at me and he looks so delicious I laugh harder.

“Nothing.”

I sit down on the mattress/sleeping bag and pat the seat next to me. He sits down, his huge body warming mine just with how close he is. We’re not touching, but I can feel his hand is close to mine. I can see his profile from the corner of my eyes: his strong jaw, sexy-ass lips, and spiky black lashes. He is too beautiful. I have no idea how it’s even biologically possible to look like he does.

I’m left thinking about his strawberry blonde. And her long legs.

Her lips.

Her breasts.

And whether or not he slept with her.

“I bet she made you a great girlfriend,” I whisper.

He looks at me, his eyes sparkling. “I don’t kiss and tell.”

“You just kiss.”

“Exactly.” God, he’s teasing me again.

And I’m one big throbbing nerve of want and obsession.

I wonder. About those kisses he gives. I’ve read quite a bit on it, actually. His activities. Day, morning, and night, four women a day sometimes. And why not? Sexual energy courses through his veins. His body hums with it.

“Is it true you only sleep four times, tops, with a woman because your favorite number is four . . . ? ”

“I eat babies, too.”

“Justin! Serious.”

“Do you waste all this energy thinking about me?”

I blink.

“Do you?”

“No,” I say. “In fact, I’m super tired after just two minutes of trying to figure you out.”

“Don’t try to figure me out,” he helpfully suggests.

I tear open a package of marshmallows. I turn around and see him lying back on his elbow, watching me curiously.

I take out a marshmallow and place it in his hand. I pop one in my mouth. “It’s for eating?” I tease him. He laughs because my voice is muffled by the huge marshmallow. I laugh too and he pops the marshmallow I gave him into his mouth.

His lips. His mouth . . .

Lust slams into me like a train at full speed, and I’m suddenly trying to think of anything but how close we are.

The voices are dying down outside, and it’s already dark. The wind rustles the trees and I yawn.

“You’re tired?” I lie on my side and face Justin, who’s looking down at me with a look in his eyes I can’t describe as he waits for me to answer.

“Yeah . . . I think it’s lights out for me.” I look behind me at the sleeping bag and then back at him.

The air seems to shift and I clear my throat, stuffing another marshmallow in my mouth.

Am I supposed to put on my PJs now? Should I just get into the sleeping bag and sleep? What if he doesn’t want to sleep yet?

My questions halt when Justin unbuttons his shirt and throws it across the tent.

The next thing my eyes see are miles of tanned, muscular chest and a tight six-pack.

He takes off his shoes but leaves his pants on. His back muscles ripple as he turns his back to me and settles into his sleeping bag. The night is hot as it is, but Justin Justin shirtless makes me feel like I’m in some kind of sauna.

He gestures to his sleeping bag; he wants me to join him. This realization makes my heartbeat almost triple in speed, and I can feel my stomach start to flip with excitement. Or maybe fear. Or maybe anxiety. But I mean, what did I expect when he said he wanted the tent for both of us? I don’t know. All I do know is that I feel like the next in line to ride a big-ass roller coaster, and I want to get on, I’ve been waiting for it for a while, but I can’t seem to move. I want to stay in line a little longer. Except this big-ass roller coaster has his hands hooked behind his head and is looking at me with such a penetrating stare, I actually get an adrenaline rush.

I breathe deep and walk to my bag, untie the strap of my halter dress, and slowly slide it down my body until I’m left in my bra and panties. I reach down in my bag and put on my big cotton sleeping shirt. Justin is still looking at me, inviting me to come into his sleeping bag. I pad over in my bare feet, feeling the grass softly crunch underneath the tent floor.

He opens the flap of the sleeping bag. I slip in, making sure there’s some distance between us, because I don’t want to seem eager. I settle into the surprisingly comfortable sleeping bag, looking up at the ceiling. I can hear soft chatter outside. The crickets chirping. The wind rustling the leaves. And I can feel Justin’s body beside me. His heat. His cologne. I don’t dare look at him because I know that if I do, anything can happen. We’re surrounded by a couple dozen people, but inside our little tent, our little bubble, there is just me and him. No one else. And that scares the crap out of me.

Just then I feel Justin shift, and his hand makes its way across my stomach, to my waist, and he draws me up against him until my back is to his chest.

Holy shit, I’m spooning him. Or he’s spooning me. Holy shit.

I focus on breathing. The back of my head is tucked beneath his chin, and I can feel his chest expand with every breath. His heat flows through my cotton T-shirt, warming my stomach and back. His face is so close to mine, if I turn around my lips will touch his.

I nervously move my arm to cover his, and he turns his hand to intertwine our fingers.

All I can hear is my heart banging in my chest and my pulse ringing in my ears. Just being around him makes me lose myself. He makes me feel a thousand different things, so I snuggle a little closer to him, the daredevil that I am, telling myself there’s nothing wrong with wanting a little warmth. Even though it’s not that cool in here. He nuzzles my head, tightens his hold on me, and places a little kiss on the top of my head. The feeling I get when he does that is indescribable. I feel butterflies in my stomach, and my throat tightens. I want to turn around and wrap my arms around him, and I want to kiss him, because feeling his huge chest against me makes me crazy. He is enveloping me completely, holding me in his arms, his big, strong, warm arms. Being drawn against his chest, having his arm hold me against him. It’s the safest I’ve ever felt.

I crack my eyes open, hearing voices outside. I hear movement, some laughter, and the sunlight is shining through the tent’s ceiling.

The tent’s ceiling.

Justin Justin’s tent’s ceiling.

Justin Justin, who’s currently lying beneath me.

HOOOOLY SHIT.

My arm is thrown across his chest, and my head is settled in the crook of his shoulder.

My leg is thrown across his body, resting between his legs.

What the hell is wrong with me? Holy crap.

Second thing I notice: he feels very muscular against me.

Okay.

My heart is beating so fast I can feel it threatening to burst out of my chest and run away.

I start to unwind myself from Justin, and I feel him stir, tightening his arm around me. He groans a little, and I can feel him move his arm a little lower.

I try to unwind myself more, and his hand ends up splayed across my butt cheek. His hand is huge; it covers my whole butt cheek. I try to contain my panic and some other emotions boiling up in me as I manage to lie on my back. Justin shifts again. He drags me up against him and I gasp. The bastard is awake, isn’t he?

His face is nestled between my breasts.

“Justin!” I shout-whisper.

He stays silent.

“Justin, I swear to god, someone could come in here any minute; get your face off my boobs!”

At that he laughs and picks his head up, looking at me quietly.

My breath catches in my throat. He looks gorgeous. His lazy stare, his bed hair, his body deliciously warm and holding mine. I feel something stir in the pit of my stomach. He lowers his head back down.

“Don’t be mad at me,” he whispers to my neck. His voice sounds even deeper in the morning. I groan inwardly because my anger vanished the moment he opened his eyes and smiled at me.

I don’t answer, because I know my voice will betray me.

He looks up at me again. I frown and attempt to scowl at him, but I don’t think it works that well, because he just smirks and lowers himself back to my breasts, then moves lower still. He plants a kiss on my stomach; then he raises himself up and places another kiss on my neck.

“Are you mad at me?” he says again.

I don’t even know what he asked me.

“What?” I ask.

He places a kiss on my shoulder, then takes my hand and kisses the inside of my wrist. He keeps my hand in his, his fingers playing with mine. “Are you mad at me?” he teases, brushing my hair behind my ear in a move that suddenly just fills me with longing.

“Yeah, I’m mad. I’m mad because . . . What are you doing here? I can’t sleep with you.”

He chuckles.

“I can’t sleep with you, Justin. I won’t.”

His gaze goes liquid as he rubs his thumb up my arm. “Yeah, you will, Selena,” he promises.

“I won’t,” I promise him.

All the laughter fades from his eyes and he says nothing. He surveys me, and I can almost hear the wheels turn in his head as he figures out how to break my walls.

“Is there a man in your life?”

“No!”

“Then I don’t see a problem.”

“The problem is”—I jab a finger in the direction of the tent’s zipper—“Tammy . . . and all your other floozies. I don’t want to be one of them!”

“Then don’t be one of them,” he whispers in my ear.

When he offers to give me a ride home so that I can change for the office this morning, we don’t even tease each other at all.

“Come here so I can kiss you,” he coaxes from the bench across from mine in the back of the Rolls. I feel vulnerable and raw, like someone just opened me up and peered inside. He knows I want him, and I can tell from the look in his eyes he won’t let up until he gets me. I shiver. “Selena,” he says, when we get close to my place.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“Selena, there’s nothing I won’t do to get you in my bed,” he says, his eyes hot and hungry.

My body responds, and it takes all my effort not to leap across the car, wrap myself around him, and let him kiss me stupid like he always does.

“Thanks, Justin,” I murmur as the car stops before my building.

He murmurs, “Justin,” as I get out.

I pause and look at him. I feel like I’m kissing him again when I concede and murmur, “Justin.”

He looks at my lips like he’s definitely thinking of kissing me again. Like hearing his name in my mouth just fondled him somewhere . . . maybe his beautiful, perfect dick. Ohmigod, what am I thinking?

I turn away and hurry upstairs.

On Thursday, he asks me out to dinner.

My heart leaps and vaults—he wants you, Selena, he’s actively pursuing you—but my brain puts an end to that ridiculousness. I can’t risk being seen by more press—my true story being discovered. I am also afraid of seeing him in any sort of dating sense again. Look what happened last time?

I tell him that I’m busy and he just texts back: OK.

I wonder if he’s calm about me denying him or if he’s frustrated. My own sexual frustration is so acute I beg the girls to please let’s have a night out at our favorite Japanese restaurant because I need the girl therapy. Distraction. I just really need to stop thinking of him.

But it seems they both found out, through word of mouth and everyone’s best friend, the internet, that Justin was at an End the Violence campout, and they can’t believe he actually went looking for me after my casual mention at the Tunnel.

“Okay, so let me get this straight. This guy, a playboy who doesn’t truly know you, is willing to do what Wynn and I aren’t?” Gina says.

“Don’t look so stumped. You’re with me when I’m painting murals, you’re great supporters.”

“He wants to get laid—that’s a powerful motivator. Wynn and I, on the other hand, want nothing from you but your friendship.”

“Does he want to get laid? He’s a guy who gets it whenever. He’s the kind whose body just begs for it.” I blush. “He’s getting it somewhere.”

“Get out and get drunk, have fun, and get it somewhere too, then,” Gina says.

I’m sleepless and tired, groaning. “Not really up for that.”

“You’ll get rolling once you’re a few cocktails in.”

“You’re worried that you like him?” asks Wynn.

“No. This isn’t a relationship, I’m just worried that he’s much more than a manwhore. He’s pretty cool.”

Wynn: “It’s so nerve-wracking but exciting not to know in those heart-pounding early stages what he’s thinking.”

Gina: “Oh, trust me, all he’s thinking of is his cock in your mouth.”

“When you say you worry,” Wynn says, “you mean you worry the man wants you or that you may not be as strong as you thought, strong enough to resist him?”

“I am resisting him. Otherwise that night I could’ve just torn his clothes off and ravaged him.”