#i am about to make my great return to posting mildly often on tumblr
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Did the best moment of your life happen at summer camp? >> You ever get to that point where you just resign yourself to taking surveys you’ve already taken? Because I’m pretty sure I’ve taken 75% of the surveys I run into but it’s not like there’s a great influx of new surveys to take, so what’s a motherfucker to do but just make repeat performances... Anyway, some really great moments have happened to me at summer camp; I’m pretty nostalgic about the camps I’ve gone to at Easton Mountain. They were great experiences, even with the bullshit that sometimes happened.
Do you get tired of fakebook? lol >> I’m just tired of facebook in general -- how ubiquitous it is, how much data it collects and what it does with said data, everything about Mark Zuckerberg, etc. How random people behave on facebook is of much less concern to me than the above.
Are you a poser on facebook or are you real? >> I don’t really use facebook. I have one for the purposes of establishing lines of contact, and that’s it.
Are you a people pleaser? >> I wouldn’t say that.
Do you get irritated a lot? >> Not a lot, no. Irritation is a pretty obvious red flag for me -- if I feel irritated it’s probably because I’ve let some important need of mine go unfulfilled, like hunger or sleep or emotional processing. Or I’ve fallen into a depressive episode.
What's something you've realized about yourself lately? >> Eh, nothing really stands out as particularly revelatory.
Do you know a lot of idiots? >> I don’t know any idiots.
Do you want a puppy or a kitty? >> No.
Do you hate that some people are stuck-up? >> No, because that’s not really been my experience with people.
Would you rather be poor and humble or rich and snooty? >> See, the thing about this is... I’ve only been poor. And for one, I don’t think being poor means I’m automatically humble, I think it means that I have to look at life and at other people in a different way than I would if I wasn’t in this position. It means I have to acknowledge my socioeconomic dependence, which means treating people like objects or means to an end is significantly more disadvantageous to me than it would be to a rich person. It means I have to budget my indulgences, and can’t just be capricious and lavish with my spending, and I can’t just throw money at a problem to make it go away. I don’t know what it would be like to be rich -- I don’t know how having those advantages would change me as a person, and I don’t know what unseen disadvantages would arise. I know who I am now, and despite the hardships of being below the poverty line as an individual (and only a little less so as a member of a household), I more-or-less like how I am. I see no reason to complicate things.
Do you know any humble rich people? >> I don’t know any actually rich people at all. I know upper middle class folks because Sparrow is related to them, but while they do seem to lack class consciousness a lot of the time, they still mostly live in a reality I can halfway comprehend.
Do you hate the millennial stereotype? >> Not really. It doesn’t affect me. But I don’t encourage people to spout that nonsense, either.
Do you think everyone should have a right to live, and by that I mean live a comfortable life? >> The problem with this is that, as a human being who is invested in lessening suffering for all living creatures, I feel as though people should have this right. Unfortunately, as a human being who is equipped with the ability to think about things critically and logically, I think that it makes no practical sense. What I do think is that social systems can absolutely stand to be more supportive to all peoples, and we should absolutely work towards that. We should always seek ways to ease suffering. But we should also expect that even our striving has the possibility of creating suffering, and weigh that against the good we believe we’re doing. It’s just a constant process, I think. Trying to be more conscientious and more humane humans than the humans that came before us.
Does your religion or spirituality teach you to love your enemies? >> I don’t have any of those things.
Do you love your enemies? >> I don’t have any enemies, and I’m pretty sure I wouldn’t love them if I did. Otherwise, why would they be enemies in the first place then?
Do you struggle to love your enemies? >> ---
Are you bothered by things that have been done to you in the past? >> Yeah, that’s kind of what being post-traumatic is.
Do you hate bullying? >> I mean, I don’t think it’s great.
Do you get bullied frequently? >> No.
Do you often wish you could go to sleep and not wake up until something good happens? >> I’ve wished that before.
How many people do you know who are suicidal? >> I don’t know how many people I know are suicidal. I’m not really... keeping track, you dig. Also, not everyone who is suicidal talks about being suicidal.
Do you read advice columns? >> I read Ask Polly sometimes, I think she has a lot of thoughtful and compassionate and passionate things to say.
Have you ever used a dating site? >> Yeah.
Do you want a fairy godmother? >> No.
Do you enjoy watching talent shows? >> Not especially. America’s Got Talent has had a few episodes that interested me, but I don’t watch it regularly.
Which cartoon character would you want to play you in a movie? >> ---
What is something you do not understand? >> Oh, you know. Calculus and stuff.
Do you know anyone who is spoiled? >> I don’t think so.
Do you think cars are ugly? >> All cars??? Of course not. There are some styles that I do find unattractive, but there are also styles I find very attractive. ...This makes me sound like I’m attracted to cars. I will neither confirm nor deny that assessment. :p
What is your favorite musical? >> Phantom of the Opera.
Have you made a lot of huge mistakes? >> Oh, yeah, definitely.
Are you ok? >> I suppose you could say that.
Do you ever feel God's presence? >> Nope.
Do you believe in angels? >> I had an Inworlder when I was younger that I interpreted as angelic. There was also an angel I knew a few years ago, which was a complicated situation I’m not sure I’m equipped to explain right now. I miss Tobias, he wrote me such wonderful things... :’(
What is your favorite magazine? >> I don’t have one.
What color hair did your favorite Barbie doll have? >> ---
Who were you rooting for in the very first season of American Idol? >> ---
Do you believe in miracles? >> I don’t find the concept useful.
Have you ever been to a tea shop? >> I’ve been to Teavana.
If there were a tea shop in your city, would you go to it? >> Sure. I love tea.
Do you still have your Christmas decorations up? >> Nope.
How many pairs of jeggings do you own? >> Zero.
Do you have any memories that are painful? >> Of course.
Do you learn from your mistakes and move on, or do you do the same things over and over again? >> Sometimes the former, sometimes the latter.
Do you make a habit of taking risks and stepping outside of your comfort zone? >> No, I don’t make a habit of it. Then again, my comfort zone is really small. Like, really. So many activities involve me being outside my comfort zone by default, which means I have less mental energy for purposefully choosing to do things that are outside of my comfort zone. I think this kind of thing is more suited for people whose comfort zone is a lot larger than mine -- who don’t regard basic things like “using the phone” or “being in a crowd” as being outside of their comfort zone.
Is your life boring? >> It can be. But frankly, I prefer this to the alternative.
What is your favorite thing to follow on tumblr? >> I don’t know how to answer that.
What are your favorite Pinterest boards? >> I don’t use Pinterest.
Is your Pinterest profile cluttered? >> ---
Do you wish you owned more board games? >> No, I don’t play board games. Sparrow likes them, but we also have no one to play with. We have three board games and at least one of them is still in the packaging.
Do you wish you had visitors more often? >> Not at all. I’m perfectly happy not having other people milling around my apartment.
Do you hate the economy? >> No.
Do you hate our culture? >> No. These are way too vague to be answerable by me in any real capacity.
Do you live in the USA? >> Yes.
What accent do you like best? >> There is no accent I like best. I like most accents just because I love the many different ways people speak.
Is there a guy you wish you hadn't let slip away? >> No.
What are some things you would like to do this summer? >> Just... go somewhere. I would like to be able to go somewhere. That’s really it, the bar is so low these days.
What are some things you love about spring? >> I think I love everything about spring. The warmth, the increased sunshine, the way the air smells when it rains, the explosion of greenery and colour, the feeling of finally being able to breathe, the fact that the air doesn’t immediately suck all the moisture out of my skin...
Are you feeling optimistic today? >> No. Optimistic about what? Isn’t that something you feel about something specific, not just... randomly?
When was the last time you did something that made you feel stupid? >> I don’t remember.
Do you hate social classes and inequality? >> I mean, it’s not great to deal with.
Is they're anything that you're questioning if you're allergic to? >> No.
Do you believe everyone should be treated with respect when you first meet them? >> Sure. I at least try to treat people with basic respect until it becomes clear that they’re 100% not interested in giving the same in return.
Do you hate that nobody cares? >> Nobody cares about what?
What websites shut down that you miss? >> Xanga, certainly.
What were your favorite websites when you were a teenager? >> Xanga, various band websites, Chimerical Publications (an old David Duchovny fansite).
What was the best class you took in high school? >> ---
Are you happy? >> Mildly.
Would you ever enroll in a college class just for fun? >> I would if it were possible to do so. That always sounded like a fun thing to do -- just take a class to get all the lectures and materials, without having to take the tests and stuff.
Do you feel free to be yourself? >> Well, sure. It’d be real fucked up if I felt like I had to be a different person all the time.
Do you stand up for yourself when needed? >> Yes. Sometimes a little more than necessary, but I’m just so used to having to fight for my existence. Or at least feeling that way.
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Riptide - Chapter 4: Fool in Love
Chapter Title: Fool in Love
Word Count:18k+
Rating: Explicit
Summary:
He’d never been happier.
This is exactly why it hurts that much more when the rug is torn violently out from underneath him, when he’d just barely gotten his footing, just barely learned to walk.
The memory is abrupt and disturbing, cutting through his thoughts like the sharp edge of the sword he’d seen Nemuri use to slice expertly through the rope on deck.
Notes:
This is a preview, you must read the entire fic on AO3 (too big for Tumblr)
Thank you all for your patience with me as I wrote this chapter. I know it has been many months since I posted chapter 3. I have a lot planned for this story and I assure you it is not being dropped, I am going to be updating as often as possible, but with each chapter being almost 20k, it is taking a lot of time. This one took a lot out of me and I am happy to finally be able to share it with you. I hope it was worth the wait.
There is an OC in this chapter named Bait who was created by my dear friend, Beth! Please go check her and her art out on Twitter and Tumblr. She has some fabulous drawings of Bait there to fill your eyes and soul with happiness.
Read it on AO3 here
Fool in Love
The night’s chill feels harsher now than it did before. Logically, Shouta knows the temperature doesn’t fluctuate much in this area. It’s comfortably warm during the day and mildly cold at night.
Still, somehow, leaving the protective embrace of Hizashi’s cavern, resurfacing after the siren carries him through the tunnel again, makes him feel vulnerable and raw. It’s as though he’d just re-entered this world, reborn from another dimension, another universe, another existence.
Something has changed.
He is different now.
With a certainty that makes shivers run down his spine, Shouta knows that nothing will ever be the same.
More importantly, as Hizashi’s hand falls over his, where he holds onto the edge of the dinghy as he uses his long tail to propel them back to Shouta’s ship, he thinks…
I don’t want it to be the same.
As he looks down at Hizashi’s glowing green eyes, turned up into little slits as he grins at Shouta, he thinks…
I never want to go back.
It almost feels as if the world was a lie before Hizashi. In a way, he supposed it was.
He sees the dim lights lining his ship’s deck all too soon, knows it means he’ll have to say goodnight to the siren, be raised up out of the water and out of his embrace. They cross the remaining distance in a shared silence. The small boat gently bumps into the side of the larger vessel as Hizashi brings them to a stop.
Shouta looks up, sees Nemuri’s head pop over the railing. She gives them a little wave, which he sees Hizashi enthusiastically return in his peripheral, small beads of water spotting Shouta’s still damp clothes as they fly off the tips of his glossy fingernails and into the dinghy. Nemuri disappears, returning moments later with arms full of rope. She tosses it over, the ball unfurling as it descends down the side of the ship. Shouta catches the end and makes quick work of tying it to the dingy, his body moving on autopilot.
When he’s done, he pauses, holding his palm up to signal to Nemuri to not pull him up just yet. She moves her hands away from the rope, holding them up to show she understands, before crossing her arms over the banister and looking down at them, a smirk on her face.
He sighs, feeling her gaze on the top of his head as he turns back toward the water, where Hizashi is looking at him curiously, head tilted a bit as he bobs up and down in the slow current.
“I know the last time you uh…” he starts, before shifting his stare from Hizashi’s soft face to the long, dark shadow beneath him. “Changed…” Shouta continues, and Hizashi’s tail flicks a little more than usual below the water.
He looks back at the siren’s face. Hizashi’s eyes a little narrowed, eyebrows pulled together.
“I know that it didn’t go great,” he says. Hizashi looks to the side, a small frown forming on his lips as Shouta can only assume the blond is remembering his near death experience. “I know I...more or less discouraged you from doing it again, but...uh…” Shouta sighs, rubbing at the back of his neck. He tilts his head back and sees Nemuri above them, raising her eyebrow. She juts her chin out as if to say go on.
“But...would you want to...we have a couple weeks off right now. So I was wondering if you’d want to...uh...go into the market with me? Look around?” he finishes, looking back down at the bottom of the dinghy, thankful for the lack of real light down here.
Hizashi’s laughter is a comforting surprise. He jumps a bit when the sound bursts through the silence, looking back at the siren as the water around Hizashi ripples with his giggles.
“I don’t know what I thought you were going to ask, but with that dramatic face! I never expected you’d ask for a date!” Hizashi says, and his grin is back in place. He swims closer, coming up to rest against Shouta’s small boat. He reaches out his hand, little drops of water pit pattering on the wood.
Shouta answers the request, filling Hizashi’s hand with his, intertwining their fingers to the best of their ability, what with Hizashi’s webbing getting in the way. Shouta was surprised how quickly this was becoming normal, routine. He quite liked like the feeling of the soft fins against his skin.
“Of course I’d like to go with you,” Hizashi says, quieter this time. His smile is small, private, and Shouta finds himself matching this on his own face.
“You’re alright with…” Shouta uses his other hand to gesture toward the ocean, and everything below its surface. “Your other form?”
Hizashi nods, some of his hair falling over his shoulder and sliding down his upper arm.
“It’ll be fine. I know what I’m doing more now. I’m not scared,” he answers, and his grip tightens around Shouta’s hand.
He hears the silent message in that small movement.
I’m not scared with you.
It had only been a few months since Shouta had met the quirky merman, and yet the blond had rocked his very foundation. He’d always been a rather cautious, suspicious man.
Now, he can’t help but feel the same.
“Me too,” he says, squeezing his hand in return.
They only get a few seconds of comfortable silence together before Nemuri smacks her hand against the banister and shouts down to them, “Some of us want to sleep a little tonight!”
Hizashi snorts and Shouta rolls his eyes and as he lets go of the siren’s hand, about to move back to tug on the rope and let Nemuri know she can start pulling him up, he feels the small boat dip toward the blond. It has him stumbling a bit, quickly reaching out to steady himself on the edge of the dinghy, and he turns toward Hizashi just as the siren is pushing up further out of the water. He grabs Shouta’s still damp shirt, tugging it toward him, and Shouta goes willingly. Their lips crash together a bit harder than expected, what with them both falling into it, but it quickly softens out. It lasts only a few seconds before Hizashi drops back into the water with a gasp.
Shouta knows he’s grinning, knows he’s blushing. He reaches back and tugs on the rope and the boat begins to rock as Nemuri raises him up.
The whole time, he stares down at Hizashi, and the blond stares up at him.
---
As the creaking of the boards grows more distant, Shouta’s footsteps fading as he makes his way to his cabin, Hizashi begins backing away. He stares up at the large vessel, smiling as he watches the light from the lanterns spill through the gaps between the railings. He moves his arms gently through the water, pushing forward to drive himself backward.
He looks down to the water, where the glow is reflected on the calm waters.
He laughs, bringing his hands up to cover his mouth. He can feel his own lips spreading wide into a grin against his palms. His whole body feels airy, bubbly, like he could float up out of the ocean and right onto Shouta’s boat.
A kiss!
Our first kiss!
The notion feels childish, everything about this felt childish, his body and mind so giddy, as if this was the first kiss he’d ever had.
It was breathtaking, beautiful, just like the man it had come from.
His fingers move across his lip, touching it softly, reverently, quite unlike the hungry embrace they’d shared.
He wanted it to continue, he’d wanted Shouta to stay there all night. He wanted to wake up next to the other man like he had when he’d changed to his human form.
He wanted to spend every hour, every second with him.
His face feels flushed, he knows he’s embarrassingly smitten with Shouta, but he doesn’t care. Hizashi lets himself fall back into the water, his hair spreading out around him as he floats on his back, arms spread wide.
He stares up into the purples and pinks of the galaxy millions of miles away, the sky bursting with stars. It used to bring him awe, used to make him feel incredibly small, humble.
Now, he thinks the glittering novas above him feel miniscule.
He’d experienced something far more stunning. He shuts his eyes and laughs again.
It was unbelievable, this new feeling, his chest warm and full, so much so he feel like he might burst any second.
That’s when he hears it.
A deep, low hum, methodical...enchanting.
His ears buzz, goose bumps break out along his arms and back. His vision stars to blur around the edges, tunneling forward, focusing on the furthest point in front of him. He can feel his heartbeat slowing down, calming, almost as if he were on the brink of sleep.
He grits his teeth as he hears it, the hum drawing out, tilting upward in pitch, calling to him, and beckoning him.
He knows it’s miles and miles away, but it resonates all the same.
He understands the voice.
Come home.
The singer’s voice was strong, and if he was anyone else, he’d be diving under the surface of the water and headed toward it.
Hizashi wasn’t just anyone, though.
The fine hairs along the base of his neck stand on edge as he looks behind him, toward Shouta’s ship, probably just a few hundred yards away. He can still make out the lights along the deck, the last stragglers probably getting ready for bed.
He’d wondered, for a while now, how exactly Shouta thought Hizashi managed to live like this, in solitude.
He’d told the captain about the disapproving elders. He’d told them how all the other sirens feared humans, but he hadn’t told him everything.
Shouta had been wary in the beginning, and Hizashi hadn’t been oblivious. He’d seen the way the other man’s gaze had skimmed across the surface of the water, looking for lurking shadows waiting to strike. Shouta was right to assume there would be more sirens.
There were always more sirens.
No one else lived like Hizashi.
No one else got to bend the rules like this.
He’s nervous, as his mind breaks free of the haze and his pulse begins to race. He turns back toward where the melody is drifting on the air.
This close to Shouta and his crew...could he risk it?
He sucks in a large breath, expanding his lungs as far as they’ll go, and dives.
He swims, deeper and deeper, jaw locked tight, fins alight along his sides and back and hips, casting an eerie glow across the ocean’s floor when he finally reaches it.
Then, with eyes closed, he opens his mouth.
With an intent he hadn’t pulled forth in years, he sings.
It takes only a few belted notes for the buzzing under his skin to cease, the other siren falling silent. He listens closely when he stops, mouth closing into a frown. How far away were they? Had they figured out his location?
It was impossible to tell.
He’d have to be careful, keep to the depths, and not let anyone spot him, human or otherwise.
He couldn’t go back.
He wouldn’t.
Read the rest on AO3 here
#erasermic fanfiction#erasermic#maizawa#eraserhead#present mic#yamada hizashi#aizawa shouta#bnha#mha#riptide
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TAGGED BY: @all-my-potter-babies (even longer ago than the last one, WHOOPS xD;; Sorry about that!) TAGGING: Whoever wants to! ^^ (also probably myself on my other blog, when I’m active again, as this is useful information to have there as well)
SPEED:
In all seriousness though... yeah. Even without me being on tumblr hiatus, I’ve never been speedy; my writing process is slow and deliberate, it takes me time and energy to really get into the character’s head to my satisfaction, which in turn means I can’t crank out replies at any great speed. On average, when I’m in a good mood for it, a single post takes me about a half-hour to write... and between several blogs, one of which is a multimuse with fourteen muses on, I don’t have the time to focus on any one single muse (or thread) as much as I’d like. Please don’t expect speed when you RP with me.
REPLIES: If I can’t write fast, it’s at least partly because I also can’t write short. The way I like to dive deep into the character’s head invariably ends with me having far more that I want to say in the post than I could reasonably fit in... so for the most part, I cram it in anyway, since it generally takes the form of internal thoughts rather than external responses. I don’t like to leave anything out; and I apologise if this approach rather overwhelms any of my partners. For those who have more trouble writing long posts, I will try and trim mine a bit... but I’m still prone to getting carried away as, once I’m in a character’s mind, I tend to ramble like no-one’s business.
STARTERS: Oof... if my replies get long, my starters get even longer. I’m a great believer in setting the scene - in part because I can find it tricky to receive starters from other people when I’m not given any context to go with them - so if you ever ask me for a starter, be prepared for it to be at least three paragraphs of substance and maybe more. It’s not something I’m proud of, I know it can be really offputting to partners... I just hate to feel like I’m leaving out anything important.
INBOX: Always always ALWAYS open for memes. If I’ve reblogged a meme of any kind, no matter if it was months - or even years - ago, they have no expiry date and I am always still accepting responses to them. I may not always reply in a timely manner, asks are not exempt from my customary slowness, but you can bet I’ll be really happy to receive anything from them. Other asks are welcome too, especially ic shenanigans or character-building questions... though I do reserve the right to not answer every ask if I genuinely can’t think of a fitting response.
SELECTIVITY: I’m mildly selective. I hate saying no to people, which means I have sometimes ploughed through a thread that I really had no interest in just because I couldn’t bring myself to turn someone down. (Nothing on this blog, and nothing recently, though! It’s been some years, at least.) That said, recently I’ll tend to politely decline an rp if I can’t find a rules page (and an about page, in case of OCs); and if the other deals only in one-liners, I’ll tend to suggest that I’m not the ideal partner for them either.
WISHLIST: ANGST. GIVE ME THAT SWEET ANGST. I mean, I’m always happy with cute fluff too, but... I dunno. I first learned to rp on a war site where angst was typically the order of the day - I overdid it MASSIVELY at first, but we don’t talk about that - so for me it’s as natural a part of rping as anything... but on tumblr, I’ve found it harder and harder to come by. I’m not sure why, perhaps just because my characters don’t lend themselves to it so well, but it feels like ages since I’ve had chance to stretch my angst-writing muscles. I’d welcome a return to that.
Also, like I said, cute fluffies are always good too ^^ My Ginny’s interactions with characters she’s close to in canon have tended to feel few and far between in recent years (is the Potter rp fandom declining? Or can that all be traced to my own inactivity instead?) so, once I’m active here again, I’ll be up for any chance to throw her at family members, at Hermiones or Harrys or Nevilles or Lunas. Her one-sided rivalry with Cho is something I’d be really interested in exploring, as is the idea of her having some close friends who are Slytherins.
Plus? I would LOVE to play out any kind of interactions with Tom Riddle; either during the time she was under his influence, or if she ever crosses paths with another piece of memory of him. Though she doesn’t show it often, the memory of the time she was possessed still affects her - in my portrayal, her boggart still takes Tom’s form for many years after the event - and I’d love for her to have to face that.
HONEST NOTE: I’m not great at ooc conversation. I’ll always try my best, and if you shoot IMs my way, I’ll respond (unless the message really leaves me stumped); though, like with asks, not necessarily in a timely manner. I don't always feel ready to make real-time conversation, even when I’m online and have seen the message; although, that said, I’m more likely to reply quickly if you leap straight to the point, as I tend to struggle to make small-talk!
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My MtF~H.R.T. Journey -- Finally Came Out (No Longer Hiding)
In my previous posts, I finally made my second attempt to ‘Coming Out’ with my second family. I know that my biological family would never accept it! If they had their way, all LGBTQ individuals would be killed as they see us as a disease. It is a hard reality to swallow, harder when you are nonconforming yourself.
My love and relationship with my second family meant much to me; however, over the year...I have found myself being pulled apart. My second family wants me to leave my biological family as they are not good for my health and happiness whereas my biological family wants me to distance all communication with my second family.
It is difficult to decide as I am bound to my biological family through duty and honor; but bound to my second family through love and unity. I can not have both, even though I want both! I decided yesterday, I would come out completely with my second family, to see where they stood. I was kinda hoping they would shun me so the decision would be easier...however, things did not go as expected!
Longing & Uncertainty...
It is kind of exciting to ‘sneak’ around; as I am on house arrest with my biological family and forbidden to see my second family. Their hatred for me and my second family is almost palatable. I had to see them, when I am with my biological family, the stress is almost sickening! This would prove evident when my second family saw me. I was scheduled to go swimming at 7pm and used that time to head to Belfair to see my second family. I set the mood as I listened to the new soundtrack from the movie: Five Feet Apart as the calming, yet sad melody played in stereo. My mind kept singing a song over and over:
‘Home is behind, the world ahead. And there are many paths to tread. Through shadow, to the edge of night...until the stars are all alight. Mist and shadow, cloud and shade. Hope shall fade...all shall fade’
The song, although from Lord of the Rings, spoke deep to my tribulations as I was leaving my home behind for a new rebirth. There were many paths I could follow. All going through the dark-times of my life...of uncertainty...like walking at night in the woods alone. All the paths lead to pain, suffering and regret.
In the end, I felt like I was dooming myself! My words would turn my second family away from me and my transition would leave me alone...isolated from love and compassion. All hope...gone...everything, gone! Yet, there was still hope, a silver lining in the clouds...maybe they would surprise me!
Even though I told them I needed time to adjust, I was ready to leave my old life behind for a new one. My connection to my biological family, severed the day they gambled with my life back in 2015. I saw death, if I stayed with them. The Lord sent me to my second family...the Lord will always provide to those souls who help themselves first.
Arriving at their asphalt driveway, I breathed as deep as I could and made the turn as I traveled up the road and parked. I pointed my car downhill...just in case I needed to leave quickly! I swallowed my fears and walked to their door, but ran into an obstacle as the gate was latched and it isn’t easy to undo. I pulled out my cellphone and called Michelle to let her know I have arrived, but was locked out. My voice trembling as I was scared.
Lexie, Michelle’s daughter, let me in as I stood patiently in the kitchen, rehearsing what I was going to say. My words would determine the future as I waited and waited. I became anxious, so I put away the dishes and started a new load of dishes and washed the sink and cleaned the counters. Staying busy helps ease my frantic mind. ‘Where are they?’ I wondered as neither Michelle nor Mitch came to see me. I envisioned horrible thoughts of them talking about my future...displeased in me and what I have become.
With the dishes done, and my anxiety thick enough to carve with a knife, I saw a black truck roll up the driveway as Michelle stepped out. I was early, by almost 30 minutes, so it was understandable. When she came in, I seem to hide in the corner of the building as she smiled.
“Hello honey...where is Mitch?” she asked as she saw the sink empty. “Oh, sweetheart, you did not need to do that!”
I glanced at the empty, clean sink “It helps me relax.” I say as I smile, which is hard when you are so scared, you feel like you might vomit! Michelle puts the rest of the bags down and tells me to hang tight as she goes upstairs to inquire on her husband. There is a delay as I wait patiently, looking for something else to clean. Michelle returns downstairs and smiles, not the reaction I was expecting.
“How have you been doing?” she asks as we wait for Mitch to join us.
“It has been a tough few days, found out today that I have to go in for surgery to have a port surgically implanted into my chest...should be fun!” I say with a smile. It is my personality; things that should scare other people, I take with stride like it is nothing, but inside, I am terrified! I purposely avoid the ‘Talk’ as Lexie and her friend, Cammie are only feet away and I don’t think I could handle four people, personally!
Mitch slowly comes down stairs, he looks tired and medicated. He also inquires about how I am doing and quickly moves this conversation outside as I reluctantly follow, knowing in is time.
Coming Out...
Outside, on the porch that overlooks the yard and North Bay, we all take a seat...Mitch and Michelle sitting by one another and I on the other-side. It is mildly warm outside, not too hot and not too cold...comfortable temperatures to talk. At first, we talk about my family and health as I just can not bring myself up to come out quite yet. We talk about the work my family has put me through. They are certainly not happy with me! Michelle looks at me and then at Mitch
“Your color has changed and your eyes...” Michelle looks at Mitch, “...look at his eyes...you must be exhausted!”
“I have not slept that well...and the pain is...always there.” as I even now feel the pressure and stabbing pain in my back with each breath. “They say that my health isn’t doing well, and that I need a port as they expect me to be in the hospital more often...and personally, I think they are correct! I feel...tired!”
It isn’t the ‘Talk’ that Mitch wants to hear; and I don’t blame him. I avoid talking about death or willingness to die. He had to bury his two only daughters and his wife...the fates have been hard on him. I know this conversation will have to be discussed...it needs to be addressed, but that is not why I came all this way out here for.
“I have been thinking about what you have said and written...” I begin as I open a new subject “...about moving out here, and before I come to a decision, I need to be frank with the both of you...” I swallow deep as my eyes cast downward in disgrace “...happiness can not be achieved without the truth that I suffer from gender dysphoria.”
There is a pause, as I expect, then Michelle asked the first question. “What exactly is gender dysphoria...?” as she tries to say dysphoria a few times as it isn’t a word in her vocabulary. “What does that mean? I am a little confused.”
“From what I’ve learned, gender dysphoria is...” as I think of what it is and what it means to me “...ah...confusion, displease or a feeling of being wrong, being in the wrong skin. Remember when I said I don’t like looking into mirrors, it is because the image I see is wrong, it does not match the image in my mind. It creates anxiety and can lead to suicide.” I wish I took the time to open my Tumblr page, as I’ve tackled many times trying to describe my dysphoria.
“Well, you know that Ryan is gay,” Mitch begins as he seems to sit in the most uncomfortable way...he too is trying to understand...but inside his mind, confusing questions are instantly being answered with this revelation “I found out when I walked in on him and Tyvel. Him being gay, concerned me, but I’ve learned to accept it, as I unconditionally love him. Him being gay does not bother me, it is him being harmed...by Tyvel, who is hard on him and other people who call him a fag.”
I think about Ryan and Tyvel. I have deep sympathy and love-as-a-brother for Ryan...always have. Tyvel concerns me, it is something about him that makes me sick, scared. I can understand where Mitch is coming from. I too worry for Ryan, he is open with his gay-nature and there are many out there...like my family...who would do great harm to him. I too don’t want him harmed, but when it comes to judging Mitch and his opinions about the LGBTQ...I was completely wrong! And I was angry with myself!
Michelle tries again with the question about my dysphoria...but honestly, I can’t explain it well...it would take too much time...time which I do not have! I try answering again, “When I look at myself, it isn’t me. Everything is a facade to please my family...”
“Which gender do you relate with the most?” Michelle asks, trying to understand through all my jumbled words and thoughts.
“Female.” I say, deciding that just cutting to the chase would be the best option for me. “But it is more then relating, since I was seven years old, I’ve always considered myself in-between genders...I think it was due to my upbringing in a single-parent family and suggestions from society...yet, during my great depression from my failing health, I took steps to correct this dysphoria” I knew this part would be tough as I have never told anyone about it, not even Ruth, who only knew I was nonconforming/fluid “I have been taking hormones to correct my dysphoria for about two years (which was a lie as I’ve only been on for barely a year...but figuring if I was going into the fire, ought to go all the way, and considering that prior to taking hormones, I did try self-medicating with bovine hormones, which was a terrible mistake...so two years give-or-take). For awhile, I was able to hide, but I personally know that I am changing and most find that in their second year, the changes are unable to hide from anyone.”
“Do you have a penis?” Mitch asked, which was a shock to me as I nod. “And a vagina?” and I shake my head. “So your a man...” as he summarizes. I feel the discomfort creep back into my heart. If I could, I would be rid of my male appendages...they gross me out! The only benefit I see having a penis is less UTI’s and easy to pee outdoors. “Do you have both a penis and vagina?” he asks as I can even see Michelle wishing he’d stop, but I let him continue “What do they call that aphadite?”
“Hermaphrodite.” both Michelle and I say in unison.
“No, I do not have both sexual organs; logically, I am male...but I was suppose to be born female according to my doctors and when I was nine, I began developing breasts...scared the hell out of my mother. We think it was due to the medication I was on...but it was enough to send me down this path.” I breathed deep, glad that was over. I hate talking about sex and sexual organs...it is gross!
“So you identify mostly as female.” Michelle summarizes as I nod.
“Always.” as I study both their faces. Mitch then repeats himself over an over about the unconditional love of the Lord and about how those who are LGBT were not saved in the Old Testament...but we live in the New Testament and God does not care if you are LGBT, he cares about your actions and love you give to others. It is comforting, as I always struggled with being nonconforming and possibly going to hell for it! “This is what I wanted to talk to you guys about. I know you’ve both offered me a home here, and I have decided, but I don’t want to hide and you both deserve the right to know...as you will find out down the road!”
“David, we love you for who you are! You were brought into our lives for a reason. You should never be ashamed that you are LGBTQ or anything. The only thing we ask is that you respect this place...which I know you will...but also, we need you to be open and transparent with us, don’t think you will hurt our feelings!” Michelle says as I smiles for the first time...those are the words I wanted to hear...however, I could see Mitch still debating.
“It all makes sense now!” Mitch interrupts as Michelle pokes him for interrupting her. “I’m ADD I have to do this!”
“So am I!” Michelle says with a smile as she lets Mitch speak his mind.
“It makes sense now why you are still a virgin. I was shocked to hear that! And learn that you’ve been dating for 11 years and have done nothing!” “I could not understand it!”
“It is hard to be intimate with another, if you can’t stand to look at yourself. I knew I had a problem in our 9th year of dating when she wanted to have sex and was willing. I was not. And in our 5th year, she commented how our roles were reversed, she was masculine and I feminine. I think my ‘issues’ broke us up; that, and the fight we had years ago...I hated what I was...orderly and authoritarian!”
“A woman craves sex! Needs it!” Mitch says as Michelle blushes and does not argue with him. I can somewhat understand why. As a man, sex seems to stimulate only in the groin and comes-and-goes in minutes whereas a woman, sex seems to stimulate over the whole body and once climaxed, it continues for minutes to hours...over and over...like hot waves of euphoria. I have felt this...it is beyond measure or words! Men are missing out! Just touching the skin is a stimulation, like sparks. The chest and groin can make you go blind! “No, Michelle and I suspected...” turning to his honey “...remember, we talked about the possibility...”
Michelle nods, “Of him having some element of being transgender, yes.”
I was shocked, was it that obvious! From what Michelle and Mitch were about to say...it was. “Everything about you, seemed different. For example, the way you speak...your words...men don’t talk that way, you are far too articulate. And your fears of being touch or exposing your chest had me guessing...but it was when you told me about you being a virgin...I said, ‘I think David is trans’.” as Michelle nods and I sit their baffled. “David, our family loves you...our friends love you and will not care if your male or female!”
I breathe deep as I nod, “Then, in that case, is the offer to join your family still up...and you are both okay with me being nonconforming and dealing with my changes as I become more...feminine?” they both nod and I quickly add. “My family will certainly disown me for this...I will have no connections...”
“Then they don’t truly love you,” Mitch says as it stings, but true. “If they truly love you, you know the saying, ‘If you love something so much, you must learn to let it go’ If your family loves you, they will understand.”
“I understand...a litman test...I just fear that if I go, they will fall apart. That is my biggest concern about my health. When my grandfather died, the whole family fell apart, they became isolated and negative. It is stressful and toxic.” I pause as I come to talk topic number three “Once I am apart of your family, I would like to have your blessings to join the Messinger family, I would like to adopt your name...I already come from a broken family, and I feel that my life is owed to the thanks of your daughter, Amanda who saved my life in 2015 and to you and Michelle who have given me hope.” I smile as I pull out my wallet, “For instance, my name isn’t the name I was born with!” as I find my really old license and hand it to Mitch who shows it to Michelle.
“Ohhh, look are cute you were!” Michelle comments as they look at my age 16 picture.
“David Joseph Butt--gen--back...” Mitch sounds out. It isn’t a easy name. “David and Joseph, all names from the bible.”
“And they mean nothing to who I am...” I say, realizing how bitter that sounds. “None of those names is unique to me; David is a memorial to my mothers brother whom she loved and lost; Joseph was to appease my father...they are not who I am...no, my real name has been in hiding all this time, but for those who are looking, it is visible...” this time I take out my cellphone and open my Facebook page.
Michelle takes the phone and scans the page for the name...and sees it, clear as day...right before her eyes. She tries the four letter word: “Myra.” even though the spelling is Mira The word Mira is beautiful, all four versions of it: Mira (Mir-a) from Croatian, Myra (My-ra) from Spanish, Amira (A-my-ra) from Greek and Miralen (Mir-a-lenn) also from Croatian language dialect. Michelle smiles as she likes the words and tries it again, “...Myra...”
“My true name, hidden, because of the fear of my family...that is the name I will take soon. And would like to add Messinger to it...if that is okay.” I ask Mitch, forgetting that Michelle too is part of this plan.
“You want me to adopt you?” Mitch asks, chewing on his nails...a sign of distress. I sense something isn’t right.
“Only if you wish...Mira Messinger...” I smile as that will take time to get use to. “Still working on a middle name...” even though I am considering Amanda’s middle name, Carlene. There is no answer from Mitch as it is much to process.
“So, what is your plans?” Michelle asks as Mitch is indisposed in thought.
I am confused as I answer, “Now that I now know you both are okay with me being nonconforming, and willing to support me...next step is to move my life from Olalla here.” I hesitate, fearful of the consequences. Homesickness is a real nightmare. Mitch seems to join us again as he summarizes.
“Lets look at the cons: a loving family, you won’t have to hide anymore, better health...”
“Sweetheart, those are the pros.” Michelle says as I smile, a simply mistake. I know that they are as uncomfortable as I am.
“You know what I mean...the pros...now the cons...” he pauses as he looks at me to fill in the blanks.
“What cons concern you?” Michelle adds, giving me time to consider.
“Well, top one is isolation from my family, then there is the distance from the hospital if there is a problem...and my upbringing...that will take time to be reconditioned.” I explain as Mitch answers for each one, isolation is a answer that they don’t love you, we would gladly drive you to the hospital at any hour and we can work on your issues. I smile as I shake my head, “Just as I expected;” I can see the confusion on their faces. “Sorry, we don’t talk much about this outside of the family...we seem to be gifted with dreams of possibilities. My mother, grandmother, sister and I. This entire conversation is because of a dream...remember when I asked about the chances of snow out here?” as they nod, I wrote a note back in September about us getting stuck here in deep snow like we’ve never seen.
“You have visions?” Mitch asks as it is unknown to me, he too has visions and terrors with the darkness or simply put, evil. I nod, realizing we are sharing more then expected. “That is God talking to you!”
I never thought of my dreams as God talking to me; most of them are nonsense. Michelle jokes, “And did you ever see us winning the lottery?” I sadly shake my head, something Mitch does not want to see. He won the lottery once, and even though it gave him the chance to help so many, it also brought a terrible price.
"Mark my words...I am going to prove you wrong!” Mitch tells me.
“I hope you do.” I reply, as I believe his plans are for the greater good.
“We three should go get food...continue this conversation on the way.” Michelle offers as Mitch has other plans.
“I was thinking of cooking up some hamburgers...”
“David does not have much time, and you still need to heal on him.” Michelle says as she makes a new decision. “I have a better plan, I will take the girls and get dinner while you work on him!” she, Lexie and Cammie jump into the black durango and head to DQ, Taco Bell and JR’s for dinner as Mitch and I continue the conversation in the dark. I can see that he too is struggling with a secret that he already told me...
(Out of respect, I will omit this part as he asked me to do so)
When Michelle and the girls came back, we retreated to the warm house as night in the Pacific Northwest gets mighty cold! We massaged, prayed and performed CPT (healing) on my back as I ate quickly, the clock was ticking. The conversation about me being transgender ended out of respect for me, in front of the girls as I reflected on previous dreams and thoughts.
We talked about Mitch’s daughters, Jess and Amanda. I never had the opportunity to meet Jessica, but knew Amanda from her visits at St. Anthony and the Panamanda Transplant Fundraiser. My many hours at their home, I have had many dreams and conversations with things that my eyes can not see...I can feel it. Sometimes I wonder if my brain is making it all up, but the things I write or see, tend to come true months down the road.
“When Jess died,” as we were still talking about my final wishes that they might have to endure if I become part of the family “she went from being a healthy girl to skin and bones in a week...she just gave up, stop eating and fighting! I wasn’t there when she passed, but the night she passed away she said to me: ‘Dad, when I die, I am going to come live at your place.’ And I said, ‘How would I know.’ and she replied: ‘You’ll know.’” I was fighting back tears, this should not bother me, but for some reason, it does. And I don’t understand it. When I look at images, I see things that ‘seem’ familiar, seeming to fit in as if I left off...somewhere.
I have always felt ‘connected’ to Amanda, even if the encounter was only a few words in a hallway. And when she died, it broke my heart. She was always fighting! It seemed she’d beat the odds, like nothing but old age could render her dead...but on January 1st, 2013 she died...and my whole life was shattered. I changed careers, changed direction, and began to realize...she was right...I had cystic fibrosis...the same damn disease that killed Jess, her and so many others I would follow and talk to. Yet, doubt is a monster that tears me down. And when Michelle added. “There is nothing you could do or be that would cause us to push you away, sweetheart...the only thing I can think is that if you made up your sickness...”
Doubt...in its rawest form. Being atypical is hell! You are not a CFer, yet, you are! You are dying from cystic fibrosis-like symptoms that can only be controlled with CF therapies, but no CF doctor will see you. I sometimes ask myself, ‘Did I cause this? Did I convince myself I had CF?’
Impossible!
You can’t cause pancreas failure, you can’t cause excessive sweating that leads to mineral and salt loss, you can’t cause total lung failure without the use of smoke or inhalation of chemicals! You can’t live day-to-day with the pain, suffering, torment and scars! As Dr. Iregui said to me...you can fake an illness, but you can’t fake an FEV1 or x-rays of collapsed scarred lungs. You can’t fake chronic digestive disease or gallbladder failure. I was sick...with a disease that hid as well as I hid my transgender-nature.
“When Amanda passed away, she fought to the very end...and I was there to hold her. Like you, she was a fighter...but I was unable to save my daughters!” Mitch punishes himself. I always feel that I was put on this path to prevent Mitch from forgetting his promise to Amanda and hating CF. Now, don’t get me wrong, CF is a cursed disease! A killer of dreams and hopes; but Amanda’s life was to fight CF and dreamed of a foundation that would continue her work. That was now my job...my calling. I feel that my whole life is now dedicated to continue Amanda’s work...and to help heal Mitch.
But, there is something weird going on...
I don’t believe in reincarnation, but there seems to be a correlation with my arrival to the Messinger family and my struggle with CF...like I still am being guided by Amanda. And with my transgender nature blossoming at the meeting of Mitch and Michelle...it could be that Jessica’s promise might be coming true. Whatever the case or cause, I feel that I must keep their memories alive, keep the fight going and heal myself to complete my work.
I think to myself as Mitch hits a painful nerve, ‘Mira Carlene Messinger!’ So much for living as David Messinger or Bruer...my life was changing, and I yearned for this new life. Mitch got up from the chair he was sitting on. Every time he is done, he is wiped out! I look at my watch, it is almost nine and I know I need to go, although, I don’t want to.
“So, the plan forward is to start transitioning in May as I have an obligation with my family in April that I must honor. We can go from there...and have plenty of time to talk. But, I want to thank you both for accepting me for who and what I am, as Mira, it has removed a great deal of stress from my chest!” as Michelle walks over to hug me and Mitch does the same.
“When can you come over again?” Michelle asks as I think of Wednesday.
“My last swimming lesson is Wednesday, I can come that day...for more healing.” I say as I smile, looking at Mitch, my father. It is odd, in my mind, to be in my 30s, yet, perceive my life as if I was in my 20s. I give Lexie a hug as she does not want me to leave, but I have to hurry home before they know.
Driving home, my mind is free. Second year on hormones, a new primary transgender-health doctor and moving towards my life as Mira...I whisper to the darkness “I hope I am making the correct choice.”
#gender#transgender#gender transformation#trans woman#transformation#trans#lgbt#lgbtq#LGBTQA#lgbtpride#lgbtq community#COMING OUT#my life#gender bender#mason#mason county#family#families#non-conforming#nonconforming#consequences#gender nonconforming#gender fluid#genderfluid#tg#change#adoption#paranormal#spiritual#fear
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hello wisconsin!
Okay, I'm garbage and have been putting this off for ages. I finished binging That 70's Show like a month ago and have been building this post for just as long.
I started this post at the beginning of season 6. Read it as such. I'll let you know when the part I wrote at season 6 ends and where I pick it back up in the present. If that makes sense.
I'm starting at season 6 mostly because I'm pretty sure the shark is going to be jumped at some point soon. Just like MASH, which lasted longer than the Korean war, 70's stretches 2 years of high school into 5 seasons. Plus another 3 for some reason.
And that's my first point. New rule: if your TV show appreciates in time and the events in the show don't line up with that, you've fucked up. I just watched 5 seasons of the kids in high school. You're telling me this shit goes on for another 75 fucking episodes?
Look, MASH I can give a pass to because they don't mark specific points in the war to give the watcher any time reference. MASH gives no dates - it's feasible that a 5-year war could span 10+ seasons, if we guess that each season is 6 months long. (That's not how it really works, but you get the point).
70's STARTS THE SHOW at the end of grade 11, and we know this. To a rational person, that means "One season of grade 11, 2 for grade 12, maybe another for summers." Then. They. Graduate. And. Leave.
But that's... not happening. For ANY of the main characters. They just decided to extend a show about high schoolers into their *supposed* college years. Which I wouldn't even have minded much - if ANY of them ACTUALLY WENT TO COLLEGE.
If they hadn't made things so cut-and-dry regarding timeframes, They could've kept being 12th graders for 10 seasons for all I care. But they CHOSE to follow defined timespans. And I think that's what's got me feeling that season 5 might've been the last "good season".
So everything you've read, I wrote before I finished the show. And, well, turns out I was right. This is also from before I finished the show (with a few things I’ve thrown in now):
There's a lot to disect from 70s, but there's one I want to focus on: Red Forman.
Why? Well, these characters are static and uninteresting: Donna, Fes* and Bob. They're pretty useless in terms of character development. These ones have simple character arcs: Hyde, Eric and Kitty. They change and grow, but in pretty predictible ways. In terms of change, Jackie obviously takes the cake, with Kelso at a close second.
*It is actually spelled Fes, because that's not his name. It's an acronym for Foreign Exchange Student.
But there's only one character that never seems to change or grow at all: Red. I said "seems" because he does change and grow, but it's instantaneous and doesn’t come for a looooong time.
It takes place immediately after returning from fishing, after Eric tells him he and Donna are engaged. He reaches a very sound, strong position: he made Eric run the gauntlet on everything he shit his way, but Eric never gave up. So he gives Eric the blessing to marry Donna. (There's another very pivotal change in his character, but that's later.)
I would've called that a nice wrap-up to the series.
But then they had to give him a damn heart attack to keep all the kids here. Why? Fuck if I know. (Jackie's still in high school and Hyde has a job he likes at home, but there is literally no reason for any of these other kids to still be here.)
The stupid heart-attack got Eric to push back college. I was fine with that. Then the whole Casablanca shit with Donna not getting on the bus, well, it kinda pissed me off (like, girl, don't let a fuckin weak ass ferret man determine your future) but it was a pretty sweet, moving moment. Another one that would've been great to end the show on.
But they didn't. So now we have Kelso, future cop; Fes, unemployed illegal immigrant with ZERO CHARACTER TRAITS THAT PEOPLE CARE ABOUT; and Eric “Dog Food” Forman.
Anyway, back to Red. It was that one heartwarming moment when he came back from fishing that made me realize that, while this is obviously fiction, Red is the epitome of a psychologically abusive parent. And THAT'S when I realized that literally not one of the characters HASN'T gone through significant trauma. Red's a vet; Kitty's an alcoholic who lost her father; Eric has an abusive father and alcoholic mother; Donna has a mentally retarded ball of pubic hair as a father and her mother ran out; Hyde's parents split; Jackie's dad's in jail and mom fucked off. I refuse to talk about Fes anymore cuz he's just the stupidest, most irritating "character" on the show, Randy notwithstanding. "He's brown! And has a funny accent! Hahaha" - nobody, ever.
It's when I realized that we NEVER see ANY of Kelso's home life did I realize that he was likely the sanest of the group. And, like him outscoring both Hyde and Eric on the SATs, that's very, very sad.
Back to Red. We know he became traumatized and hardened by serving in two wars. We know he's treated Eric like garbage his entire life... yet Eric is pretty well-adjusted. And that is where, 5000 words in, we get to my point: abuse is played for laughs and it's fine because Eric has a snappy comeback to Red most of the time.
Eric Foreman's a sarcastic wit with great comedic timing. So that, according to the show, cancels out of all the times Red's told Eric he was stupid and degraded him in front of his friends.
Of course, conflict has to come from somewhere, and one's parents is that major source for most teens. But to an extent.
"Red's a hardass," as the kids say regularly. But no, being a hardass is refusing a kid candy till he finishes his broccoli. Not telling him he's worthless over and over and over for 17 years
And I don't care what anyone says: that amount of abuse over a child's life does not a snappy, well-adjusted Eric Forman make.
It makes me. A crumbling, shattered, fragmented person with no sense of self-worth or accomplishment.
And now, we’re caught up. Back in the present, having finished the show.
My point ended up being made.
If the show had ended at season 5 with Donna missing her bus, we would've missed a lot.
Look, I still firmly believe the show itself would've been better if it had ended earlier, but my complaints about the effect of Red's abuse of Eric would've gone unanswered.
I spent the next 3 seasons mildly annoyed that they existed - first, Eric doesn't go to college. Then neither does Donna. Why are they still around? Why do we still care? The whole point of the show was to show us high schoolers graduating and going off to college. To me, it felt like how it would feel if MASH continued after the war ended.
I was absolutely irrate when Eric announced the theme of season 7 would be "I'm taking a year off to eat and watch TV and sleep!" There was a great scene that's often seen on tumblr in gif form: at breakfast, Red asks Eric what he's going to do about: moving out, Donna, his job, and his future. He replies "I 'unno" to each question. Red tells him to have a plan by the end of the day if he wants to eat. And I said "Finally, some good fucking Red Forman." Then, at the end of the day, Eric announces: "Donna? Hanging out. Job? Quit. Future? None. When am I moving out? Make. Me."
To which I said, "THAT'S WHAT YOU DID LAST SEASON BITCH!" Only apparently I was wrong; Eric Forman could and did become even more useless than before.
But at least it gets us to my absolute favorite point in the entire series. Season 7, episode 9, 18 minutes in. (Thanks to Reddit for helping me locate this scene). Red is bitching at Eric for not knowing what to do with his life. Let's go straight to the transcript (with side jokes edited out):
E: Did it ever occur to you guys that I don't know what I'm doing? I'm scared, okay? Look. My whole life, I've been trying to please other people. So I feel like I don't know who I am. Or know what I want to do with my life. I just don't want to wake up in five years and hate my life.
R: That's unavoidable.
E: Okay, I just need more time to think.
R: You know what I got for my 18th birthday? A draft notice and a Malaria vaccine. I never had time to *think.*
E: Yeah, but Dad, don't you think it would've been helpful if you did?
Then the camera zooms in on Red, and no laugh track, no jokes, he thinks for a good 20 seconds. Then he says, "Okay. I'll give you six months."
It's my favourite scene. Even more than the one we get after fishing or the one before leaving for Africa. Because unlike those few heartfelt scenes, this one relies on Red. Being. Wrong. And admitting it.
There's a reason Eric's spent his whole life trying to please others: Red. There's a reason Eric doesn't know who he is: Red.
Throughout the entire series, Red's been a Conservative Republican veteran who, as Kitty puts it, "Thinks the only way to become a man is to DIE." Just 500 words ago, I called him abusive. And, let's be real, he is.
But I also had an abusive father. That's why I picked this direction for this post to go. I saw Scott in Red Forman. But they are NOT the same.
Red Forman will admit to being wrong. And that makes up for a whole goddamn lot. Going through abuse is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy. But if they did and their abuser ADMITTED HE WAS WRONG, that is NOT nothing to the abused. If my dad had admitted he was a dick, my life would be a LOT different.
And Eric is the epitome of that feeling. His eyes light up when Red says he'll give him six months. Because Red knows he's done Eric wrong. He knows he owes him at least this much. At various points throughout the series it's been pointed out that Eric is who he is because of Red. It was inevitable that Red, too, would eventually reach this conclusion.
Anyway. That's that.
I do want to talk about other things than Eric and Red Forman, so let's play all the hits: fuck Jackie and Fes, fuck Randy with a chainsaw, the moment the show jumped the shark was when Eric bailed on the wedding, fuck Randy with a hot curling iron, Fes is the most annoying and useless character on the show, LOVED the episode where they finally Green Out™ and Kelso calls the White House, and FUCK RANDY WITH A CEREMONIAL JAPANESE KATANA.
Look. I can't in good conscience indulge in a 70's review without talking Randy.
But I hate him so much I don't want to waste energy on him so let's get this over with: useless, Gary Stu, want to put his hair through a blender, fuck him for being in the cirle in the theme song.
Okay, but let's play one last one: Tommy Chong.
I was curious as to why he was absent for 3 seasons so I Googled it. Dude was in prison for selling bongs. He said, upon getting out and returning to the show, "I thought they would've made that a part of the show!" I think that says it all about Leo and why he's my favorite character, with Hyde as a close second. But FUCK Danny Masterson and FUCK Scientology. Look it up.
Well, to finish off, an interesting tidbit: at the end of the theme song, it is Hyde who shouts "Hello Wisconsin!". The entire time, for 200 episodes, I would've sworn on my life that it was Kelso.
Stay Greater.
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Noctis x Reader (SFW)
Word Count: 2,106 words
Made back in 2016 and it was the first post on Wattpad. So it shall be the first post on Tumblr.
There was a fine line between common and royal. Two different worlds entirely. [Name] [Last Name] was a commoner, she was nothing special or someone of great importance. She was just a cashier at a mildly popular diner.
She just never imagined that she would one day be waking up next to the future king of Lucis.
~ ★ ~ ★ ~ ★ ~
The sun was shining high above Insomnia, it's bright waves evoking such a positive mood over the city. Though from where you slept, the beams of light merely cracked through the tightly shut curtains.
Your eyes opened slowly, the mental alarm clock in your head causing you to wake up at the same time almost everyday. With a small sigh, you turn onto your other side to peer at the dork sleeping next to you. Noctis had one arm under his pillow, the other dangling off the bed. His hair was spiker than it usually was and he was almost completely hidden under the blanket. You couldn't help but smile at his sleeping form, it was always so cute to see him this way. The only part that wasn't so cute though, was trying to wake him up.
"Noct, wake up." You shook him lightly, earning a small grunt and a turn of his head. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and watch him. You knew shaking him would get you no where, so there was only one thing that would work.
Hopping out of bed, you stride to the floor to ceiling windows and fling open the curtains. The light glares down on Noctis, making his eyes fly open and then close from the invasion of light. You lean against the wall, crossing your arms. It takes a moment, but Noctis does sit up and rub his eyes. You could tell the poor prince didn't want to be up this early, but he knew there was no fighting you.
"Sometimes..you're evil.." He mumbled, looking at you now. You shrug with a smile and stride back to the bed, taking a seat beside him.
"Well I wouldn't be able to wake you unless I used the light. Though it is funny every time." You smile some more, and Noctis merely shakes his head. He never imagined that he would be waking up at right every morning when he was with you, but he was slowly...very slowly getting used to it. He noticed how happy you were when he was with you, so it was always worth it, even if he went partially blind from the sun.
"Ha ha, very funny. I don't see how your up so early all the time..it's just..uncalled for." Noctis said, climbing out of bed and stretching. You leaned back on your elbows and tilted your head.
"Not everyone can lounge around until noon my prince. Some of us has to work and make a living." You say, watching Noctis search for a shirt. Your eyes wondered over his back for a moment before returning to his unruly hair. He may not be super built like Gladio, but Noctis was utterly perfect in your eyes.
"Right..sorry." He apologizes, turning towards you once he has a shirt on. You shrug and get off the bed, "It's all good. No need to say sorry because if I didn't work, I wouldn't of been able to get close to you." You say, standing in front of him now. He slowly smiles and snakes his arms around you, pulling you closer to him. Your hands rest on his chest as you look up at him.
"Very true. I really do need to thank Prompto for shoving me into you." Noctis says, amusement in his voice. You nod with a chuckle and grip his shirt, bringing him down to you for a kiss. His lips melt against yours as your hands move to cup his cheeks. His arms tighten around you but the moment is interrupted with a knock on the door. The two of you break apart as Prompto strides in, but stops when he sees how the two of you are.
"Am I interrupting something?" He says, leaning against the door and nearly falling on the floor.
"What do you want? Your already here." Noctis says, wondering what his friend could possibly want at this time of the day. Prompto waves his precious camera and smiles real big.
"We're gonna head outside the city for the day. Ignis demanded that I ask if you wanted to go."
"Yeah, give us ten." Prompto gives a thumbs up before walking out, shutting the door behind him. Noctis looks at you again, realization hitting him. "You've never been out of the city before have you?" He asks and you nod in response.
"Nope, are you wanting me to go with you boys?" You ask, backing away and crossing your arms.
"Duh..now go get ready before Ignis kills us." Noctis lightly shoves you towards the closet before he heads into the bathroom. You blink at the closed door and smile. You couldn't help but feel excited.
~ ★ ~ ★ ~ ★ ~
Sitting between Noctis and Gladio made for a comfortable seat, despite your earlier doubts. Noctis held your hand in his, your fingers laced through his own.
Ignis drove towards the Duscae region, only stopping once for gas. Prompto was up front gushing about a Catoblepas, and how he wanted more shots of one since his old ones were lost.
"I'm not being your bait again." Noctis shot from the back. Prompto turned in his seat and pouted, playing the puppy dog eyes.
"Oh come on! I mean just imagine posing in front of the beast and impressing your lady!" Prompto tried to convince, which made Noctis think. You looked between the two, feeling lost in this conversation. You never heard of a Catoblepas, so you didn't see why Noctis was saying no.
"Why are you saying no?" You pipe in, wondering what was so bad. Noctis blinks at you and Prompto just smiles.
"I almost got eaten."
"It was at least ten feet away from you."
"You weren't the one holding the mushrooms."
"The shots were great though."
"Yeah, for the sake of my safety."
"It was for a good cause."
"It wasn't so great if you lost the damn photos."
Prompto just stares for a moment and turns around, slumping in his seat. Noctis had won this argument, a triumphant smile on his face. You had no idea what just happened, but you figured you'd help Prompto out here.
"I think you should do it." You say, resting your head on Noctis' shoulder. He looks at you and blinks before sighing in defeat. Prompto turns around again, waiting for the verdict.
"Fine...Only for [Name] though."
"WooHoo!" Prompto hollered, turning around in his seat again. Noctis shook his head and smiled at the thought of impressing you.
~ ★ ~ ★ ~ ★ ~
Three hours and several photos later, you have finally seen a Catoblepas and understand why Noctis didn't want to do it. That thing was huge to a humans standard..you couldn't even go near where Prompto stood.
"These are better than before." Prompto said, looking at the photos while munching on a beef on a stick..you didn't know what they were called.
"They better, I could feel that thing breathing on me." Noctis shuddered at the thought, rubbing your thigh gently under the table. You have come to realize that when you were out in public with your dear prince, he always had a hand on you. It wasn't something you would complain about though, oh no. You loved it to death, it made you all fuzzy and warm on the inside.
You gaze out of the window while Noctis and Prompto talk about the photos. Three months ago, you were a single pringle struggling to pay the rent. Now you were dating the prince of Lucis, always by his side when time allowed it. The relationship was awkward at first as the two of you got to know one another, but now it was a comfortable relationship. It was the best one you have ever been in if you had to admit it. Sometimes your just thrown off by the fact your dating a prince. A lowly commoner won the heart of Noctis..you often felt unworthy of his love. But you never let that feeling surface.
"[Name]," Noctis waved a hand in front of your face, frowning slightly, "Are you okay?" He asked, taking note of the frown you wore on your face. You quickly smile and nod, washing away the thoughts that surfaced in your head.
"Yeah I'm fine." You kiss his cheek and smile again. Noctis smiles back, but he feels like you are keeping something front him. That gut feeling rised within him and they weren't usually wrong. But for now, he'd drop the subject and talk about later in private.
~ ★ ~ ★ ~ ★ ~
Instead of heading back to Insomnia, the group decided to camp out tonight to avoid the lingering daemons that lurk in the night.
It was around one in the morning, everyone was asleep except for Noctis and yourself. He was playing Kings Knight while you rested between his legs, watching him water his money trees. Your mood took a gradual decline after all of those thoughts invaded your head, but you kept a bright smile on your face. The last thing you wanted to do was burden Noctis with your ridiculous thoughts.
"Alright [Name], we need to talk." Noctis shuts off his phone tosses it to the side before turning you to face him. "What's going on in that head of yours? Your being different and...I want to know if I did something to offend you.." He frowns, wondering what was going on. All day his mind was wondering of possibilities, none of the results were positive.
"You did nothing wrong, it's all me," You start, avoiding his gaze and looking out towards the land behind him, "I just...don't feel worthy of being with you. That just about sums up what's wrong with me.." You admit simply, deciding against beating around the bush. Noctis scoffs and pulls you to him, holding you close.
"If anything, I'm not worthy of you. You have such an amazing heart and your so nice..my god..Just..please don't think your not worthy of being with me. I love you with all of my heart even if I don't show it sometimes." Noctis says in your ear. You hide your face in his neck, your cheeks burning from his sweet words. It wasn't everyday you received a confession like that, so it really hit your heart. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you moved to look at him.
"I really don't want to be a mistake in your eyes.. I'm not Luna or..just..ugh..stupid tears." You rubbed your eyes, fighting the tears that wanted to fall. You hated getting emotional, but has been weighing down on you for awhile now and it's finally surfacing. What was such a good day, turned ugly so quickly.
"Of course your not Luna. I wouldn't want you to be Luna. I want you. [Name] [Last Name], the love of my life. If I have to say it over and over, just tell me. If it will get it though your head, I'll say it until you believe it. Please don't cry.." Noctis pulled you back to him, holding you tighter than before. Your headed nestled against his neck once again as silent tears fell. His words meant so much to you that you were crying from overwhelming fuzz and your worries. This was what you needed to hear to finally put your worries to rest. You knew how he felt deep down, but hearing it helped so much.
"Thank you for this..I'm sorry for brining something like this up though." You finally say after a moment or two. Noctis kisses the side of your head and sways gently, knowing how you like that type of gesture.
"It's better to let it out now then to hold it in. Thanks for telling me so I could reassure you. Just know that I love you, with all of my heart. I want you to be my queen one day." Noctis makes you look at him, the sincerity in his eyes and voice nearly made you melt right then and there.
"I love you too dork, with all of my heart." You sniffle with a smile. Noctis returns the smile with one of them crooked smiles that kill you every time. His lips find yours for a loving kiss. Your hands tangle in his hair while his hands cup your cheeks. It was a kiss of reassurance and pure love, one that proved he really wanted you just as bad as you wanted him. There was nothing that could beat that.
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