#i don’t want to spoil anything for myself so i am shunning myself away from any posts about it despite how much i want to look at them

[zaddyazula]

honestly raging because all the infinite wealth stuff is circulating and i can’t look at any of it 😭😭😭

[metalandmagi]

Winter 2021 Anime Worth Watching!

Since 2020 basically sacrificed itself to give us the most stacked anime season of all time, I’m currently buried under the weight of almost 20 shows airing per week. So for anyone who’s looking for some anime to watch this winter, here’s some first impressions! I’m speed running my list this time by only talking about the new shows...because otherwise this would be my great American novel. 

If anyone’s interested, I have master lists for both 2020 anime and 2019 anime, because there’s no shortage of fun things to find. 

New Shows!

And before anyone asks, So I’m A Spider, So What? isn’t on here, because CG spiders freak me out.

Cells At Work Code Black: This...less comedic spin off of Cells At Work (made by a different studio) takes the wholesome concept of Osmosis Jones meets cute anime girls and turns it on its head. In this much more depressing version, we follow a rookie red blood cell who works in the body of an overly stressed, alcoholic smoker who puts every strain on the body imaginable. I love Red Blood Cell AA2153 and his co-workers, but man am I glad we get the regular Cells At Work airing this season too, because I need something fun and uplifting after seeing my sweet son go through hell every episode. 

*Heaven’s Design Team: Have you ever wondered how God came up with some of the weird ass animals that live on this planet? Like, what’s the deal with giraffes? And why can’t we have dragons and flying horses? Well this is a comedy about the engineers and designers in heaven creating the new animals that are going to inhabit the Earth. That’s it, that’s the show. It’s kind of in the same vein as Cells At Work, having comedy blend with a surprising amount of educational information. If you want something light and funny, this is the show for you (though I don’t think it needs to have full length episodes). I’m just hoping there’s an episode about how the hell the platypus was created. Also it’s the only new one available on Crunchyroll.

Horimiya: A romantic comedy about a girl named Hori who fits the image of a perfect queen bee and a quiet bespectacled boy named Miyamura who never makes an impression at school. When the two meet by chance outside of the classroom, we see that Hori is practically raising a younger brother by herself, and Miyamura is actually a sweet guy who happens to be covered in tattoos and piercings. This show is an exercise in breaking down the images people have of others in their minds, and it’s a concept that really hits home in a fun and meaningful way. Honestly, this has become one of my immediate favorites. The characters have great chemistry, and I can’t wait to see more of them!

Monster Incidents (Kemono Jihen): When big shot Tokyo detective Inugami is called to a rural town to investigate a series of strange animal deaths, he finds a mysterious boy with the nickname Dorotabo who has been shunned by the other children in town. As the detective gets closer to Dorotabo, he discovers that there may be more...inhuman secrets to the boy than he realizes...and Dorotabo discovers that Inugami has some secrets of his own. This is a hard show to sell without spoiling the first episode, but it had twists and turns that kept me engaged from start to finish. I’m really interested to see where the plot goes, because I thought this was going to be something totally different just from the PV and series summary. If it plays its cards right, this could be a great paranormal detective show!

Wonder Egg Priority: A psychological drama about a girl named Ai who starts having dreams about a mysterious egg that promises to give her what she wants most in the world...a true friend. Before long, she begins to see how the dream world and reality are tied together, and trippy antics ensue. It’s hard to say more without spoiling anything, but I had to go back and add this one in because I made the mistake of thinking it was an OVA when it’s actually a full series. And what a series it’s starting out to be. This anime has all the psychological discomfort of a Satoshi Kon product with the beauty and style of something from Kyoani (even though it’s made by Clover Works). It’s really one of those anime you just have to see to understand.

Sk8-∞ (Skate the infinity): An original skateboarding anime from Bones, featuring a typical sports anime protagonist who takes a new transfer student who has never skateboarded in his life under his wing. Together they compete in dangerous races and take the skating community by storm. The character designs rival Appare Ranman’s in outlandish creativity, and I can smell the main characters’ ship dynamic a mile away (considering they’re exactly the same as the protagonists from Robihachi). If you’re looking for some wild and crazy fun with top notch skateboarding animation, don’t skip this!

2.43: Seiin Koukou Danshi Volley-bu (Seiin High School Boys Volleyball Club): Yes, it’s another volleyball anime. And no, it’s not just a clone of Haikyu. This story follows Yuni Kuroba, a physically built but emotionally weak teenager who finds out his childhood friend Hajime is moving back to their hometown for high school. Yuni discovers Hajime has become an exceptional volleyball player and they join their school’s volleyball club hoping to turn the unknown team into a rising star. If anything, this anime is much more like Stars Align or Free, where the sport is a backdrop for letting the characters explore their personal problems. Or at least it seems that way after the first episode. I went into this show ready to throw it in the trash because how could anything compete against my beloved Haikyu, but I found myself really enjoying the dynamics of the main duo and I’m curious to see what the rest of the team is like.

And speaking of sports anime rip-offs…..I can’t believe I’m including this but…

Skate Leading Stars: The show where the animators clearly wanted to design another throw away idol anime but saw how popular Yuri On Ice was so they decided to make whatever the hell this show is instead. It revolves around a fictional team sport called skate leading, and we follow the world’s most insufferable main character, a former figure skater named Kensei who wants to return to the ice and join his school’s skate leading team after he finds out his childhood rival is going to compete in the sport. Look, this show is just trashy enough to get a certain type of audience hooked, and it mainly has to do with the best boy of the winter season, Hayato Sasugai, the aspiring team “coach” who pulled most of us into watching this show with his punk appearance, snide comments and smug personality. He’s basically the lovechild of Izaya Orihara and Shizuo Heiwajima in a high school sports anime setting. The show treats itself with the perfect amount of sincerity to get away with being absolutely ridiculous most of the time without making you feel like you’re watching it from a dumpster...like Try Knights. You will know after one episode whether this show is for you. All I can say is, Hayato is worth the watch, and I haven’t seen any 3D animation used for the skating scenes (yet) so that’s a win for me. 

Honorable mention:

Jobless Reincarnation ( Mushoku Tensei): Yet another isekai where the main character is hit by a car (big surprise) and gets reincarnated into a fantasy world...but he happens to remember his previous life and narrates himself growing up as a jaded adult. I’m only including this because it looked amazing animation wise, and I love the opening where getting hit by a car and dying is actually traumatic. And I love the protagonist’s parents (who are retired adventurers who just want to bang all the time). But honestly...the main character is the fucking worst, and I don’t know if I want to keep watching it because of how creepy and weird he is. Like...he’s the hit on your fantasy mom as a baby kind of creepy and weird. But for anyone who wants a cool looking isekai that had an amazing PV, it’s worth checking out. 

Continuing Series!

Because the real gold of the season is in all the established anime getting their next seasons, I’m just going to list some of the things that are also amazing and definitely worth checking out if you haven’t already (because I’ve already talked about most of them at some point and don’t know what else to say).

Attack On Titan season 4

The Promised Neverland season 2

Beastars season 2

Log Horizon season 3

That Time I Got Reincarnated as a Slime season 2

Re: Zero season 2 (second cour)

Dr. Stone season 2

Cells at Work season 2

Osomatsu-san season 3 (second cour)

Higurashi New (second cour)

Jujutsu Kaisen (second cour) 

Not to mention all the shows I don’t watch that everyone else loves...like World Trigger (which I have seen quite a bit of, but long shounen shows are too much for me now) Quintessential Quintuplets, and Non Non Biyori. 

So there’s just some of all the anime airing this season. Hopefully, someone can find something they like. Here’s to a great year...well, of anime at least...

[flatfootmonster]

Puzzle Pieces

Cold bites but not enough to dislodge me from my spot or my bookmarked thoughts. Orange tongues lick at the darkness eagerly, but as much as my palm hovers over them, enjoying heat spewed into the dark by the fire, the sensation sends no comfort to my feet. The dwindling success found in wiggling my toes every now and again is a good measure of how much more I can take. Winter nights hold less mercy than him—and perhaps a pinch more warmth. 

When I told myself I would run no more it was because there’s nowhere for me to go. Thoughts of escape didn’t cross my mind tonight where usually they would tempt; reality warping under illusions a safe haven could be blindly stumbled across if I only dared to look. I’d always retrace my own arguments, follow my own tracks, right back to my bed—an endless, exhaustive circle. But tonight there’s a task, it’s delayed as my pocketed hand remains hidden in cloth, cloaking the artefact I grip—equal parts spoiled reverence and fresh disgust. 

There’s no need for it anymore. I’m not sure when the spell was unmade; it was a slow unravelling process leading me to the understanding that no desire or intrigue hid within the mysterious forms—ink against paper. The only thing left after that discovery was a bitter disappointment. I think I’ve been disappointed for a long while now, at first, that was entirely self aimed. Not anymore. 

He was the one that scolded for ill words spoken against my betters. Yet if I don’t speak them, they are still true. Ill thoughts come from facts and if they only reside within my skull it doesn’t make them less truthful. Respect remains, as is proper, but I’m wary of memories. I’m ashamed of my feelings—once shunned and sacred, now infantile. I was infatuated, and he broke that with a cold smile and a harder shoulder. How had I ever imagined softness there?

This—this poem—was never for my benefit anyway, and was never given with good feeling. My fingers are cruelly tight around the parchment, they possess an unforgivingness that I cannot wield in my heart. Even if I don’t follow through it will be spoiled. And to think I once risked my life for a list of heartless platitudes. 

A cloud of mist materialises beneath my nose as a short snort of laughter burst from my lungs. I’m changing, and I don’t know what I look like or feel like anymore—if I even knew those things in the first place. All I know is I’ve outgrown the box I was placed in and I’ve granted myself the freedom to look deeper at those around me. Even if what I see stays secret, I can understand more detail than a sketch now, I begin to see hues and shade and highlight—nuance. That goes both ways—for the bad and good. 

I pull the poem free from its hiding place. It’s necessary to keep moving because that thought process—of looking beyond the two-dimensional outline of a being—always leads me to ground I’m not quite ready to tread. Emotions are dissolving in one part of me as they bloom elsewhere—wild and raw. As much as I’m growing out of selective naivety, these new developments seem just as treacherous. They are unknown and they feel dangerous. 

Frigid air expands within my chest before the hand strangling parchment joins the first. One end dangling down, teasing the fire, and the tongues grow longer, eager to devour. Spirits dance within the heat source knowing what needs to be done and what needs to be erased. Another huffed cloud appears when my fingers spring open, orange shivers and devours. There’s not a sound in the world past the crackle of excitement as spirits rejoice in appeasement of their meal. The thing was gone the moment it met the flames.

Ease settles in my chest. If they weren’t so numb, my lips might be persuaded to smile. The dancing flames hold me captive despite knowing that numb lips perhaps indicate that I should move now that it’s done. It’s just hard to summon the will to move because I know I’ll see more change once I do so. Deep within, my structure will have changed, restructured itself somehow and I’ll need to learn how to balance myself. But I’m not sure if my toes are actually moving now when I command them to. I should go back—to my own room, or… 

Weight cuts off that wondering notion; an extra layer envelops me as palms smooth over my shoulders. I don’t have time to flinch before he’s moved to the other side of the fire. Suddenly I’m being studied by dark eyes that flay and question on their own before I’ve taken one single breath. I can’t look away, my hands work on their own, drawing the heavy robe around me. His gaze drops to the fire for a heartbeat, gathering information from the spirits, before rejoining mine once more. 

“Do you plan on standing here until you turn to ice?”

The fact that he tackles my intentions to remain rather than question my motives means he’s watched; he’s aware of what I’ve done. But even if he hadn’t seen the action he has a way of reading me and knowing. It’s unnerving. 

“I was just about to come inside.” Under which part of the roof was never determined.

Head tilting to one side, his study takes in every inch of me as though he’s drawing up an itinerary. I get flustered when he does that, both in agitation and whatever the new thing is that’s evolving—it’s vines twist themself around my gut and chest, constricting and paralysing where they grow. 

I’m beginning to realise that this is not a passing fancy. I don’t think I’m a plaything to him either. Honestly, I’ve no idea what I am to him but I know he isn’t sure either—and that’s what makes this different. Constructing fantasies won’t help, so I try to stay grounded. but it’s confusing. Every now and again there’s a sensation like my heart wants to leap out of my mouth when he’s near. Should I feel shame over this, too? Emotions and desires before were held behind a safe shield—untouchable and unreal. All the knots I tie myself into now, because of him, he pulls and yanks and teases without trying.

“I fell asleep waiting for you.” The words are flat—emotionless even. It could just be a stated fact but there’s something more. The adjustment of his chin, as it firms momentarily, and then as his eyebrows draw together, add nuance. I don’t know him well enough to read these expressions, as minute as they are, but if I had to bet on it I’d name it disgruntlement. 

I was painting in his room. The thoughts that led me to this spot—and this purpose—had crept in the dark before ambushing my mind. My focus remained firmly on the parchment as they coiled around me, blinding me to everything but highlight, hues, and shade. I didn’t notice when he moved, from his reading spot to the pallet. No clues were picked up on that he was sleeping until I shifted around to work feeling back into my legs. The gentle sound of slumbering breaths caught my attention. It’s an odd sensation, and it always is, when I’m awake and he’s asleep. It’s about the only time when I can describe him as gentle, the unwavering features soften. He looks peaceful and that’s strange to see when his demeanour is usually focussed and sharp; he’s a library of rigid expectation and command in every waking breath. 

So, I watched for a while, feeling powerful in one hand and yet protective in the other. Who sees this side of him? There was never anything beyond the forced smile Inhun wore; no weaknesses shown and no upper hand offered. Yet Seungho lays down before me, allows me respite from his perception and gives me free rein. I can’t work out if it’s trust or complacency.

“I was going to come,” I repeat, clamping my teeth shut as they begin to chatter. 

Arms folded, his lips quirk into a smile which is neither warm nor cruel. This is another thing we’re both learning—something other than extremes. He doesn’t even have the decency to shiver, as he stands there in the snow wearing only his bedclothes, because when Seungho isn’t unconscious it is absolutely out of the question for him to show any weakness—no matter how human that weakness may be. I’m not sure if that side of him rankles me anymore, it’s more amusing now, although I don’t think I’ll ever have the confidence—or death wish—to laugh at him over it. 

“You said that already. Yet here you stand, turning blue. Must I carry you? Were you waiting for me to come and drag you inside?” he pauses, entertained by his own notions before adding, “or carry you like a bride?”

I don’t think my eyes could widen any further as I tussle with indignation. Drawing the robe tight around myself, I smooth out the irritation plucked at by his words before straightening to my full height. “I was doing no such thing, My Lord.” With all the courage I can muster, I make a jerky bow and turn away, willing my feet to do their job while they feel as useless as bricks. 

There’s a sound coming from where he still stands, near those dancing spirits, a snort that—if I didn’t know any better—could be laughter. Then he’s at my side. One arm extended, a hand hovers just behind my lower back. I can’t see the gesture but I feel it. I know the heat of it there, as vivid as the warmth from the fire, waiting in case I stumble. He has every right to scold me, in the very least, but he doesn’t—and I’m sure if I could look at him that strange smile would lay on his lips. For the life of me, I cannot figure him out. Every moment I’m blindfolded while assembling a one thousand piece puzzle, and each piece might kiss or bite depending on how I handle it. 

“The cold seems to inspire your impudence,” he murmurs. Still, there is no hard edge to be found to this particular piece. “Turning you back on me,” he tsks to himself as we enter the house. 

I slip off my shoes and he does the same. “I was following your advice, My Lord.” Perhaps I’ve lost my mind because the sniff added in punctuation is not humble in the slightest. My chin firms as my skin prickles because the mirth that radiates from him agitates me for a reason I cannot fathom. And why am I so perceptive when it comes to his moods? Why do his high spirits always make me mulish lately? The tangled threads of questions dampen my mood and cloud my vision before I catch myself. Hand to his door, I freeze realising, as I am sure he has, that I was about to enter his room without thought or planning. But It was where I’d just come from, well before I sought out the poem that is no longer. That’s why I was returning—it makes sense. But to him, it must look like…

“You’re quite the opposite of a bed warmer right now,” he says as he walks past me. 

And just like that my jaw finds its strength once more and I am staring him down, arms crossed over my chest. My purpose nor my intention was to be a bed warmer. I must have gone insane but I cannot help the way he easily plucks at my nerves tonight. Perhaps it was the surprise that came with his apparition outside whilst I was burning embarrassing souvenirs from a life left behind. The act says too much about me and where I stand that I’m not willing to admit out loud—least not to him. 

Does he know already?

Once more, he tilts his head to one side as he faces me—considering, amused. His mouth is soft, just like his eyes somehow became, before he offers a smile, it isn’t generous but it's genuine. It feels like an apology. He scans me, probably trying to understand why my feet have frozen on the threshold—no, he knows the why, he’s trying to figure out the undoing. “It’s warmer in here.” It’s given in place of an ask. That is something I’m learning about him: he does not know how to ask. And why would he need to ask a lowborn of anything? But what do I say?

Just as he has no ability to ask simple things, I have no practise in accepting. “I wasn’t finished,” I nod to where I was seated before, paper and brushes spread out around my work. His eyebrows rise by a fraction but he says nothing and gestures me into the room with one large palm.

I take the offer, silently shuffling to stand at my spot, looking down at my work. It was a lie, of course. I’d done everything I wanted on this particular piece, I knew when the last stroke was enough. Usually, I have no idea when a piece is finished, it can lead to ruin at times. Tonight it was intuitive, and as soon as the brush was laid down, I stood and made a quick path to where I’d hidden the poem. I realise, scouring the paper with fresh eyes, that there is something final about the forms beneath my nose, something that puts it apart from what has come before. 

“It’s different.” His voice at my shoulder is a shock. He’s crept up on me twice in the space of ten minutes. I try to shoot a scowl at him but he’s standing too near. If I tilt my head to meet his eyes, distraction from my ire will be inevitable. When did he learn to soften his gaze?

The scowl instead finds itself aimed at my feet as I fidget. Does he not like it? It seemed to come so naturally, without thinking, like a song from a morning bird. “Do you dislike it?” I ask, unaware that trepidation apparently lodged itself in my throat. It makes my words vibrate in tension. Do I need him to like it? That wasn’t a part of the agreement and if he doesn’t like it, that’s too bad. I shouldn’t care one single ounce for his appeasement. I shouldn't...

“I never said that,” he murmurs, moving closer. The fact that he’s unreasonably close and the inevitable urge to move into him sets off an itch beneath my skin. “It’s just different,” he pauses and I can hear my own heartbeat. Being cold seems a long-departed problem and it has nothing to do with the warmth filtering through the floorboards and thawing out my toes. My palms are damn, too. “Your face,” he continues, “the expression. Your eyes are closed, and your fingers hold to me, denting my flesh. There are marks down my back. My mouth is at your throat, brow creased. Your mouth is open, perhaps on a moan, and your toes are curled…”

With each clue he states, I begin to see it, too. My breaths deepen like his observations alone are foreplay. When did I become so fickle? “I hadn’t noticed,” the words are whispered; it is a lie, too. 

He hums, unconvinced but choosing his battles. “It's not a picture of an act, it’s a portrait of sensation. They aren’t on display for us, they are captivated with each other.” 

Wiping my palms off on the borrowed robe, my tongue is absent and my mouth dry. It isn’t fair for him to be so perceptive, to see so clearly into a piece I hadn’t quite understood yet. And that’s what he does, seems to figure me out before I do. All those times, watching me whilst inside of someone else, reading so clearly what I hid from myself with a thin veil of shame. Blindfold or not, I’m a puzzle he has no problem constructing. It makes me vulnerable and that scares me. 

“Perhaps.” It’s as much as I’m willing to concede, and it’s quietly done at that because another lie would be too much—even for me. Could he ever be captivated with me?

The trepidation in my throat hardens, it feels like I swallowed a rock. I should go back to my room. That notion lands in time with his arms as they coil around me. “Perhaps?” he asks knowing no answer will come because his breath is on my throat. In truth, he doesn’t need an answer. It’s a struggle to keep my eyes open, to stop my neck from weakening so my head can loll on his shoulder. What has he done to me? “Do you like it when I kiss your neck, Nakyum?” 

“It’s late.” The only thing left is diversion tactics. I can cope with his demands without consideration; I’ve relied on that to avoid my own agency and desires. But now he’s asking me. 

He’s saying my name. 

As if he can feel my body summoning the energy required to pull away, to leave this embrace, he holds tighter. He rests his head on my shoulder, then he sighs. “I would like it if you’d stay—someone needs to make sure you’re warm enough after standing outside for so long.”

I’m frozen again. Another ask, even if it is followed by reasoning or an excuse that I can’t quite bring myself to believe. He’s asking. I don’t think I’ve ever seen vulnerability in him, and that’s what this feels like. Out of the confusing tangle of newness within, something very clear sounds: I don’t want to hurt him. It’s an absurd notion, what could I do to him? But it’s there all the same, logic damned. The softness I saw in his eyes, on his lips, is reflected in my answer, in my unwinding muscles. “I’ll stay.” The response is almost illegible to my own ears, I can’t hear much for the blood pounding through me. 

When he dictates it’s so easy to lose myself, and then there’s no nervousness because I have no choice to be so. But now it feels like I have power to act on my own urges and that is terrifying. Can I ask of him? How can I do that when I can’t even admit that everything firm, that’s within and without, melts away when his lips are at my neck. 

Something eases in him, he’s relieved—pleased with my response. There are butterflies trapped in my stomach, my mind is tripping over expectations of what comes next. I answered in a way that gives permission, he should need that and nothing more. Instead, wings still their beating when his arms release me. He steps back and it takes every bit of stubbornness I can summon not to buckle without his fortifying strength. It’s worrying—much, much more than worrying—to find myself leaning on something. I don’t trust what I seek for support because I’ve been wrong before. 

Chills glide over my skin and I rub at my arms. It’s futile because this cold didn’t come from outside. “See,” he impresses, the statement balanced between victory and concern. “Come. Lay down.” 

And I do; it’s an instruction, my body follows the lead as trained. Confusing thoughts torment and preoccupy my mind enough that I don’t retaliate against that sheep-like quality I’m starting to abhor. There’s no firming of my chin or crossing of my arms, I’m simply waiting on what happens next. 

Disappointment wasn’t what I had in mind. Seungho simply lays down beside me, bundling covers over us and muttering something about my cold feet. Then I’m left to argue with urges and shame in silence and dark—the only presumptuous thing is the thick band his arm makes as it wraps tightly around my middle and his slow breaths on the back of my neck. 

Now what? 

His question still burns, my inability to answer is an irritant. Do I want to speak on it? It’s a question of what’s at stake, I suppose. What do I lose by gaining my tongue? No one is present to hear the confessions I could proffer to Seungho, I’ll simply be naked in a way he’s never witnessed before. Yet the way he sees things, the way he looks at me, I’m sure he can already imagine that secret part of me—perhaps not the fine detail but he anticipates the sketched outlines. He’s not wrong. 

There were constraints holding me before, doctrine I’d prescribed myself on the advice of someone who I trusted. But that’s gone now—smoke and ashes. There’s nothing to stop unlearning those strictures, I just have to find the strength to be bare once more. It was other people’s ears I worried about overhearing my secrets—not Seungho’s. Do I trust him? 

My shallow breaths echo around the silent landscape. Is he still awake? I can’t move, I can’t apply the brakes in my thought process. The words have reached my throat and there’s no way they can be forced back down. 

“I like it.” 

It sounds much too loud but the reality is my words were as minute as a raindrop landing on the ocean. Minute and yet still they cause ripples. 

He’s as still as I was, the broad chest pressed to my back unmoving now. The words were caught, they are percolating through the space between us. He edges closer, his lips ghost along my shoulder. “What is it that you like?” he asks, pleasure clear in his voice. My will is gathering itself; he knows exactly what I mean, the question is simply posed to draw out the details. Before ire is finessed enough to engage with my tongue, his breath rushes over my skin and he adds one more sound to the ones that came before—a one-word question seeking reassurance. “Nakyum?” 

Does he know what it does when my name is in his mouth? He must know. My brain wants to reinforce mulish behaviour but the rest of me becomes fluid, I’m all too aware of every single inch of his body pressing to mine. I’ve come this far… “I like it when you kiss my neck.” There’s a confidence there, as my lips move, that I wasn’t aware I could wield. 

A deceitful stillness descends once more. I want to see his face and learn the expression that comes when he’s hesitant like this—to know the emotions beneath the surface of this vast ocean. 

I want to know him. 

“Can I?” This rift in stillness causes its own ripples. No, it would be more accurate to call it a tidal wave because the influx of need to demand clarification is suffocating. It forces me to turn, to face him. He asked? 

The ask coaxes something playful. I find myself mimicking his game. “Can you do what?”

The same snort I heard outside repeats. I thought I knew better but that was untrue. It is a laugh—or as close as it gets to laughter with Seungho. I made him laugh? The kaleidoscope of butterflies has returned, cascading flights swirling within. “Can I kiss you, Nakyum?” 

There’s no thought; no consideration; no hesitation; no shame. There’s only urgency.

“Yes.”

(You can read the first POV I wrote for Seungho here)

[closetdwellertales]

a heart more loyal

Whoever finds this, please know: I was a knight, once, and the land had not known a heart more loyal.

My friend (I hope I am allowed to call you so, for your hands will soon grant me the greatest gift), I know the purpose of your visit. I know what is coming, but I cannot find fear within me. My hand writes these lines as steadily as always, and the quill shivers, its trusty iron end almost dulled down. It has followed me through victories and failures. It has written my story in orders and signatures under the death sentences. I never cared to leave another memoir, for I never desired fame – and I do not desire it now. Please, read carefully, as it is a will; and even the worst of the worst are allowed a death wish.

I was a knight, once. You do not know my name, yet I had one, and it was spoken with respect. I never desired fame, but it followed me like a loyal dog: it slept by my bed and licked my hands. I was among best of the best. I dined with kings and made friends with jesters. People and beasts alike feared the cry of my horn. I had a bleeding heart, you see, easily driven to sympathy. Never did I ignore a reaching hand, a cry for help; never did I pass a battle, either.

I entered maturity under the welcoming glow of my lucky star. I did not know strife past what a heart may bear, nor did anguish touch my soul in times of struggle. Respected by most, loved by many, I basked in peace; and I knew that, should the age make my limbs leaden and my eyes weak, I would spend the rest of my days as a relic of a troubled past, amusing my children and grandchildren with the tales of my glory. No regrets, no shame would follow me into the old age. Perhaps at times I would glance at my armor, still shiny but abandoned, and feel a rush of blood, a useless quickening of the heart longing for another battle; but the pain would be soothed, and hollowness filled, by the warmth of my loving home.

I was a knight once, but the armor and the shield are no more. They were never displayed with pride, telling many a tale of courage and victory. Instead, forgotten, they rusted away. The dust under your feet may as well be the sad remnants of their shine. I took a piece of my broken sword and forged it into the iron tip for my quill, and it remained just as deadly as when it had been glistening at my hilt. The feasts and fights of my glorious youth are but a bleak memory. They thundered away and fell silent, only a distant echo still ringing in the vacant halls; and not a soul is left to listen.

My dear friend, I know the surprise you must feel. Now you must be looking with anger and confusion at the results of my toll: the dark towers of my castle, the blood-soaked fields of the land I once called mine, the rising smoke that threatens to overcome the heavens above. I am a beast among beasts, a plight among plights, a demon among men. In a dark fortress I sit, ruling over my domain with iron and fire, and not a heart may turn to me in sympathy; no lips may utter my name without disgust.

If I truly was a knight, you must say, what could have brought such a descent? What made me turn away from worldly pleasures and seek satiation in pain and suffering? Had it been a bitter love, a broken heart? Had it been revenge against a mightier foe? Had a friend betrayed me in times of need, or a liege robbed me of what was rightfully mine?

No, my friend, none of these were the reason of my fall from grace. My love stayed faithful, my friends loyal, my patrons generous; and no foe was mightier than the hand that brought them down. No, there is no need to seek the root in other places, for me myself was the reason.

Perchance you have heard of the old fairy king of the Losol forest. Know that it was my sword that brought him down, and my dagger that drew the last drops of blood from his stilling heart. Yet the old beast did not die at once, for the other folk does not live as we do; and, before his eyes closed to the daylight once and for all, he managed to utter a curse; and what curse!

I was born under a lucky star, but I did not know that its light was to shine no more. I took his crown from him, and it turned to useless twigs in my hands; I took his gold, and it turned to leaves. Oh, it was a dreary day when the fairy king cursed me. Ever before, he said, my life was a blessing; now it was to be torture. Ever before my every wish would come true; now, the curse would twist my fate and give me the opposite of what I sincerely desired. I took his life, he said, and so I was to live no more.

I was reckless, young; I did not believe the dying beast. Yet, since that dreadful day, my victories turned sour, my gains bitter. The kindness of my heart turned poisonous. When I desired peace, war would break out; when I wished for love, animosity would slither in. My old friends were thrown into poverty and grief, and their wails rang clear over the ashes. I wanted my loved ones to feast and celebrate; instead, a different feast was prepared for them, and only vultures attended. My home was broken, my beloved land in disarray. Oh, how many times I cursed my pitiful existence! Not even the fairy king could hate me more, dying, than I did still alive.

In vain, I tried to break the chain that fettered me. I turned to magicians, old wizards, witches who dabble in light and darkness both; but none of them could vanquish the curse that was sealed with a dying breath. The more I wished it gone, the stronger it remained. I despaired, I fought, but all for nothing. In the dead of the night, I could hear the voice of the dead fairy king; he laughed, he rejoiced in my pain!

Thus, I had only one way left; and I forged salvation from misery.

I taught myself to hate, to despise everything good and light; I learned fury, I planted seeds of darkness within my soul. Oh, how it ached, how it resisted! – but I was just as relentless with myself as I used to be with my worst enemies. I gave myself every repulsive habit, every deep and twisted desire that I knew in those dead by my hand. I fled from company. I threw curses at those approaching me until I was shunned from everywhere. I looked upon my past friends and lovers with repulsion; I kept reminding myself of every bit of luck they had until envy burned out love. I tore away my heart and replaced it with bronze. I weeded out every sprout of sympathy. ­I ached for love and friendship to blossom, so I denied myself both and bore the torture of seeing my familiars prosper. What a miserable, pitiful creature I was!

Yet I was not done; for my love brought endless destruction that my hatred could not so easily correct.

I sought souls as dark as mine; I found unity in them. I sowed the hatred and fed on the harvest. They were naturally repulsive; tender from birth, I had to learn their ways; and experience overcame nature. They obeyed me easily. Dirt commanded dirt, and the disease spread. I was repulsed; I gained respect. I wished them ill; they prospered. Knowing the art of battle, I gave them much and promised them more, and my troops brought me victory after bitter victory.

I ached for peace, so I commanded war.

How my soul grieved! – for every soul grieves its own death. I dissected it, replacing its very nature, and the seams never healed. Yet I was getting used to my misery. I delighted in things most unholy; what should have brought anguish, made me laugh. I ordered this fortress built, and from its heart I sent away the doves of fake treaties and ravens of attacks. I spilt blood to obtain and burned the spoils. I learned the art of magic, and the terror of my reign grew stronger. Even my very servants learned to fear me, for the darkness of my soul overshadowed theirs.

Yet I was not done.

I ordered every story about my knightly days burned; I took down memorials; I tore away pages. I threw my very name into the waters of oblivion and watched it sink. Who would suspect that such a grisly figure had known days of camaraderie, of love and fame? The knight was gone; only the king remained.

Even so, after all these years, my soul ached. Sometimes, after a day of dark madness, I would see a single ray of light come through the heavy clouds and weep; useless, empty tears! – like the rotten and disgusting ichor seeping from a fevered wound. I wished for love and respect; I obtained hatred and repulsion. I wished for salvation; I saw the entire land unite against me. I saw heroes rise to strike me down, the cries of their horns making my heart stir. Their steeds trampled my burned fields, their swords stroke down my armies. Young hearts, reckless hearts; I cursed every one of them, knowing that my curses will never come true. I wanted to take them down; now I see my armies broken, my fortress besieged. You must be one of them, my friend. I heard your horn at the gate; I must hurry.

For, as you see, lately I tried very hard to wish for life.

I spent hours upon hours, seeking enjoyment in my existence, thinking of the smallest blessings, the bleakest gifts; and now I want to keep living more than ever. Just as a single ray of sunlight finds its way through the storm clouds and lights the silenced battlefield, the sunset of my life is lit up with sublime clarity. I know that, with my death, this land will finally enjoy peace and happiness. My heart trembles with bitter bliss. Please, hurry, my trusted quill, for I will be needing you no more; you have served me well, you may lay to rest. Please, hurry, my friend; let your sword be as sharp as mine was when it cut down the fairy king, and let your luck be mightier. Don’t hesitate; deliver the greatest gift you could have given me; I am here, I am waiting.

My friend, if I may ask for a single favor: erase all my victories, all my bloody gains. Take down my kingdom, destroy my fortress, don’t leave a sign of anything that misery constructed; let dust and grass cover the battlefields; let rust eat away the obsolete swords. Oblivion is the highest reward I could ask for; let the terrors and fire wash away as a heavy dream before the dawn.

Farewell, my friend! My heart aches for rest; please, bury it in the ground of my beloved, hated, tortured land.

I served it well, and it had never known a heart more loyal.

[vixenofthemist]

Angry Rant About how We Should've Known More About Almyra bc I am Mad

Sure wish we knew more about Almyra bc how the fuck do they apparently go from hating Claude's very existence and trying to murder him to following him willingly even tho he hasn't even been in their country since he was 15/16.

Like don't get me wrong, I love Claude being the Almyran prince and ascending the throne and I know in all other endings but Byleth it takes him a few years- but besides the fact that I'm a Claudleth ho I just think they're incredibly fucking wasted in the story and that ending just makes me think of how little we know.

Them following Claude just makes an odd mix of contradicting everything we've been told about them but also not and it pisses me off bc we are never told clearly anything about Almyra and that would've been the fucking time to show us straight what Almyrans are actually like instead of leaving it all for us to assume and pick up from the small hints we're given.

Clearly Claude is right, they aren't just bloodthirsty brutes like Fódlan thinks, but also, Claude talks about them trying to kill him as a kid for being part Fodlan and that is. Really fucked up. But worse, we're never told something else to balance it out. We just know they hated Claude, shunned him, and tried to assasinate him a few times, and are left with nothing else substantial about anyone outside of his parents and Nader (and even then we know jack shit akshs)

But since Claude himself speaks so honestly about how Fódlan has the wrong idea of Almyra - and all the important Almyran characters we meet are good - that obviously tells us that he's right - but then we are never told specifics! We're just left with "They hated me so much that I developed severe trust issuses and dont trust anybody and had to learn POISONS at a young age to defend myself- but they're good people I swear."

If they're good people (which i believe they are) than Claude or SOMEONE should've told tell us in clear examples, not in vague, beating around the bush sentences bc we can't know Claude's from Almyra. (even tho we figured it out when he and Cyril both say their home values wyvern riding pre-skip)

And by good people I dont mean that they all have to be goody two shoes, "murder bad" sort of folks, they're a warrior society and thats badass and I don't mind that! We fight in a war for goodness sakes im not here to judge them. What I mean, is I want to see what are the good, indepth parts of their society that made Claude look at them and decide "I want to help" Instead of hating them. We are given all the hints that theres so much more to Almyra- but they lead nowhere.

Honestly, it being decided that Claude is hiding the fact that he's Almyran for the ENTIRE GAME until the LITERAL END was a horrible decision bc he never gets to talk about Almyra openly because of it, having to dodge around the topic whenever its brought up and alluding to the fact thru small hints like how they celebrate after fights and their feasts - but thats all very bare stuff that isnt personal. Like yes, they honor fighting and celebrate battled whether they win or lose- interesting shit. Elite warriors fighting atop wyverns is fascinating and i love it. All those things are a large part of their culture- but it doesnt tell us enough. Claude isn't fighting for open borders between the countries bc Almyra throws great feasts- there has to be more to it but we. Aren't. Freaking. TOLD!! i can't even think of another thing to list that isnt related to fighting or their feasts and even those go together. Like, where's the personal accounts to help us understand Almyra outside of what we are shown at face value? Where are they?

The only other Almyran we can talk to for any signigicant length of time is Cyril, who shares Fódlans views on Almyra because he was a kid who lived in the seemingly shittily governed part of Almyra who was orphaned bc of Almyrans fighting and he blames the king for not watching out for them. (Which also brings into question wtf was has the king been doing? All that we know about him is that he opened up trade with Fódlan more than his dad did which hints that he wants to mend the gap between the countries, and ofc he married Claude's mom, but thats it. What has he been doing??) But anyway thats another rant.

Since Claude can't talk about the good parts of Almyra explicitely, bc that would give away that he's Almyran, and Nader is undercover when we meet him, we don't learn any personal accounts about Almyra besides second hand info from Hilda (who is biased) and Cyril (who was an orphaned kid who's scope of Almyra was tbh quite small) so we aren't given enough information to fill in the gaps between -> hating Claude -> Loyally following their new king Claude into battle to defend Fódlan, and it just leaves so many questions for me.

WHATS THE ALMYRA LORE?? WHATS BEEN HAPPENING IN ALMYRA?? WHAT CHANGED HAVE HAPPENED THERE SINCE CLAUDE WAS LAST THERE??

Of course I could be missing a few things I'll admit that, I haven't gotten all of Claude's supports so there could be some lines im missing - but as far as I can remember we just aren't told enough to have it make sense.

And theres so many ways they couldve made it understandable! Just a few lines from someone to help us have a little bit of a grasp on whats going on in Almyra would have done it.

Like, if Claude's mom has been working hard to change the general peoples view by being their queen for years and earning their respect - Boom, there it is! A concievable but brief explanation that tells us whats going on without having to go deep. Heck, could even be said by a merchant so it doesn't spoil Claude's heritage but hints at it in a fun, subtle way so that when it is revealed who Claude's parents are players can go "Oh dam that queen was his mom, that makes SENSE!"

Anyway I'll stop now bc I've been writing this for too long and am tired akdhsh im sorry if you read all of this its been building up for awhile akshs

[purplesurveys]

710

Have you ever done drugs and were able to quit for good? I’ve done milder drugs, like caffeine and nicotine... I don’t have like a dependence issue on them so it’s nothing I have to ‘quit.’ Are you against weed, or do you think it should be legalized? I honestly don’t know much about them since they’re normally shunned in our culture and is barely talked about/explored. I’ve heard they have medicinal purposes though and I’m finding it hard to find excuses as to why it can’t be legalized for that reason. Have you ever been taken advantage of while drunk? No. Is there any medication you refuse to take? (Like for ADHD, etc.) No, and I’m not familiar with the types of medication either. Ever watched an Above the Influence commercial under the influence? I haven’t. We don’t have commercials like that.

Have you ever or do you have an abusive significant other? Nope, just abusive family members. Are your parents too involved in your life, or do you feel forgotten? Uhh I get the feeling they want to be more involved partly because they’ve realized I’m getting older and it’s only a matter of time before I live my life on my own, so they’ll sometimes drop hints like wishing they got to know more about my love life, mental health, etc. But because we’ve been emotionally distant my whole life, it’s hard for me to open up at all so I refuse or get reluctant whenever they ask. How do you feel when it comes to love? Well I mean these days and for the last few years I’ve been optimistic about it. It’s been a while since I haven’t had a significant person that my life revolves around so my perspective is pretty biased, though. Do rainy, cloudy days affect your mood? They make me feel better. I thrive in bleak weather, and I absolutely hate sunny, humid days. Have you ever wished you could just move away and start over? No. I’m still pretty young so there’s still opportunities for me to do exactly this once I graduate. For the meantime I go through a bunch of shit, make mistakes, and learn from them so that I know better once I have to be an Adult. Are you impulsive, or do you overthink? I’m both. I overthink on my downtime but am impulsive when I feel pressured.

Are you or have you ever been addicted to any substance? No. Do you think beauty goes more than skin deep? Duh. It’s 2020, I think we’ve covered that a million times now. Do you remember your first date? How was it? My legit first date was at a nearby mall and we only had enough to afford Bonchon for lunch. We had just graduated high school so there wasn’t any reason for our parents to give us allowance anymore so we just relied on whatever we had saved in the last few days of school, which wasn’t a lot. But it was our first date after getting back together so we were simply happy spending time together in that simple date. Have you gotten caught in a HUGE lie to your parents? No, I’ve never gotten in trouble specifically for lying because I hate doing that to begin with. I’ve been in deep shit for other stuff, like getting caught cursing on social media when I was 10 or failing a test/class. Are your relationships unstable, or do you manage to keep friends a while? They’re mostly stable and I have friends I’ve kept for a very long time, but I tend to be very particular about actions. That means to say when someone does something I have on my blacklist (like breaking my trust or making fun of me directly) I’ll have no problem cutting them off in seconds, which some have been confused by cos it’s not really that common to do something so abruptly. Don't you hate when people have the nicest parents & treat them like shit? Yeah of course. Why wouldn’t that piss me off? Are your moods stable or do you never know how you're gonna feel? They’re stable for the most part. I can tell when my mood is about to shift and even then I have ample time to adjust for it and warn others if possible. Have you ever been on probation or arrested? If so, what for? Nope. The most/worst that has happened has been getting pulled over. Do you think that without drama and problems your life would be boring? Not that I exclusively thrive on drama lmao, but it’s sometimes nice to have it around just for the spice of it. I can definitely live without it, but yeah I’d say life would be a *little* bland. When you've had a bad day, do you seek an escape, or do you just face it? Depends on what problems I have. If it’s something I know will be sticking around for a while – like my anxiety toward my thesis – I’d rather have a quick, brief escape like eating out or having a few drinks. But if I’m bothered by something more pressing, something I know I’d lose sleep about, I just face the music. Do you think the bible's hypocritical, or do you live by it? Oh I dunno dude. I stopped paying attention to it when I finally didn’t have to read it every morning for school, so I’ve forgotten most of the lines. I have some memories of raising my eyebrows at some gospels though – like the one where Jesus flips out at seeing a marketplace near the temple, when these days a bunch of malls – public areas designated exclusively for shops – host masses of their own. Most churches are also situated near markets or have clothing or food stalls nearby for people to flock to after mass, so that bit confuses me to this day. Have you ever thought you were or actually BEEN pregnant? No, this has never been a concern of mine. Have you ever guilt tripped someone into something? LMAO just my parents, because I’m the most spoiled out of their kids. That’s not to say I’m spoiled rotten, I’m just a bit more expressive about what I want.  Do you actually care about other's problems? UP has opened my eyes to the plight of the poor and the working class, and so I mostly care for their struggles. When it comes to the opposite sex, do you fall for them faster or slower? I’m demi. My concept of ‘falling’ is the same for everyone. Have you ever had or been part of an intervention? Never. I wasn’t aware of the concept either until I saw it being done for Jesse Pinkman in Breaking Bad. If you could, would you go back and change the way things ended with someone? No. Can you manipulate someone into getting what you want? I can probably do it but I never want being manipulative to be a dominant trait of mine. Does the type of music someone listens to tell the type of person they are? Sometimes? Idk, you’d be surprised at some of the music people listen to. I’m as basic as basic gets lmao but I know people would be surprised to see Rancid on my playlists. But then again, music is a form of expression and it’s still a good indicator of someone’s personality or aura. Have you ever felt like you know a person just from their survey answers? Several people I follow have said that their surveys serve as their journals, so in a way it is an avenue to find out who they are. I don’t wanna assume I know them 100% though because after all, I’ve only known them through Tumblr. Are there any problems within your family? If so, what? Land dispute problems primarily, as with all Filipino families. Another issue I’ve heard of recently is what to do with one of the houses we own – who’s in charge of selling it, how to divide the money once it’s sold, etc. Apparently my grandma wants some of the money to be given to one of her sons (my deadbeat uncle) which has pissed my mom off and she’s currently pushing for him not to get any of the money cos he hasn’t done anything to contribute to the family haha. It’s all honestly fun to watch and has taught me to take it easy on my sister when we get older. If you're in a bad mood, do you take it out on others or do you hold it in? I try to hold it in and handle it responsibly, but there are times I’ll snap towards other people. Most days I act fake and convince everyone I’m doing fine so that they don’t need to worry, though. Have you ever seen cocaine, ecstasy, heroin, or acid? Have you done it? Nah I’ve never seen any of these in person. Do you like a lot of attention or does it make you uncomfortable? Oh man I hate it. Once I start feeling there’s too much on me, I try to shift it to someone else. Have you ever wanted to help someone, but you just couldn't? I don’t think I’ve ever had to care for someone who was just too far down. In one way or another I’ve always been able to offer help to my friends who needed it. Have you ever contemplated suicide or talked someone out of it who has? Just the former. I doubt I’m mentally capable of handling the second one all by myself, so I’m a little relieved I’ve never had to do it. I’m sure I have friends who can do it much better than I would. Have you ever been homeschooled? Why? No, I’ve had traditional schooling all my life. Have you ever woken up somewhere and not known where you were? Nah it’s never been this bad. I’ve woken up confused for a few seconds, but I’ve never been completely clueless. Has someone ever laced/slipped something in your drink? No, that’s awful. Have you ever had a party when your parents went outta town? Get caught? I don’t throw parties at my own place, and that’s not very common here either. Is there something you really wanna tell/say to someone but can't? Nah, I’m good. I do want to hug Angela because I’m sure she still feels bad about her grandmother passing away. Don't you hate when someone texts you and you're expecting someone else? Hahahahahaha, yes. That’s why I gave my girlfriend a separate ringtone.

[melodieoftheuniverse]

A Slice of Boterkoek

A scene involving my version of Siebren and Selene.

The two had met in passing outside between classes, but had not had a true conversation since the impromptu lunch and chocolate moment two weeks ago. In the time between, Siebren had consumed anything and everything he could find on reputable sources about schizophrenia, especially regarding treatments. He had missed this feeling of a new interest and voracious desire for more information, but had decided midway through to keep things to himself unless she brought it up. He didn’t want to seem prying, and the simple accidental mention of her sister nearly sent her into tears, he did not want to be the cause of that. 

Siebren had no real skill in the kitchen past easy, ready-made meals, so he decided to stop by a bakery on the way to campus and pick up one of his favorites to share with his new acquaintance—could he call her that? He had always been the odd child in any group, and any time he had attempted to gain friends, they had always shunned him for daring to rejoin the group the next day. But the word fit. It felt right. And unlike most, she didn’t seem to judge him on anything. 

It was that reason that led him to choose the boterkoek from the display case. And, in his purely professional observation, food tended to be a better social lubricant.

The third time meeting, and you’re bringing her a cake, his inner voice noted. Aren’t you afraid she’ll take the calorie-laden dessert as an offense? Afraid she’ll state it’ll spoil her girlish figure?

Siebren silenced the voice with a shake of his head. What would one small slice do? Selene clearly enjoyed food, but perhaps this “social experiment” of his might teach her a more epicurean approach. How to savor, how to taste the different notes and how they became a symphony together. He snorted and shook his head again. Back to music. It circled back around to music.

He found himself walking perfectly in time to the synth music playing through his headphones, fighting the urge to let more of his body express itself. Walking in a regular rhythm was socially acceptable; flat-out “grooving” would only earn him more stares than he usually received for his height and build. He did allow himself a small head bob and a shoulder swing here and there but otherwise tried to keep his mask of normalcy firmly planted. He had started to turn towards the entrance to the building when he caught motion out of the corner of his eye. He initially dismissed it as a bird of some sort but as he turned slightly, noticed the side to side motion couldn’t be duplicated by a bird, save a large one like a crane, and those were only found in zoos in this area. He turned to face the motion fully and found Selene kneeling and waving furiously at him. He smiled, plucked an earbud out and waved back with the same hand. He noted that she had left her hair down, this being the first time he could truly see the length--and, his inner voice noted, how the sunlight caught the highlights in her auburn hair.

He shook the voice silent again, replaced the earbud, and turned back to the door, Selene’s waving returning to the previous intensity. He faced her again, pointed towards the door, and nodded in the same direction.

She shook her head, moved her arms in a large “no”, and pointed to a spot across from her on the grass.

He shook his head with exaggerated movements, and pointed back to the door.

She scowled, planted her hands on her hips, and settled into a deeper kneel.

He narrowed his eyes, but Selene had done all but put down roots. He clearly wasn’t going to win. He sighed, turned on his heels, and walked over to where she sat on the grass, dodging a flock of freshmen en route to their classes, plucking out his remaining earbud and pocketing both. 

“I thought we could sit under the stars,” Selene began as he approached the edge of her blanket, the opposite edge pinned down by her bookbag. 

He loomed over her, feeling the nearly-ever-present frown begin to tug at his face. “It’s daytime,” he replied dryly.

“Star, then,” she replied, not missing a beat. “The Sun is a star, yes? And technically we are under the stars, the Sun is just bright enough to outdo their light.” She smiled up at him, the smile unwavering until Siebren sighed and sat on an open corner of the blanket. “You look like you could use some outside time anyways.”

He casually ignored the dig at his complexion and brought the bag with the confection around to the front, having it join the spread Selene already had set out. There were slices of various cheeses both soft and hard that joined different types of sausages and salami on two plates. Next to those on other plates were both fresh and dried fruits and two different types of bread, one a sliced baguette, the other a loaf clearly intended to have chunks pulled off as needed. “What inspired the charcuterie al fresco?”

“I wanted something different. Routine is nice, but it’s also nice to change things up every now and then. Agreed?” 

Siebren stayed silent as he untied the knot in the bag and pulled out the boterkoek. That point of view was almost the polar opposite of his own. Routines were comfy, predictable. Inside was still; outside was loud, windy, messy. This change would probably throw his entire day off.

“Ooh, what’s that?” she asked, adopting the same child-like gaze she had when she noticed the projector when they had first met.

“Dessert,” he replied simply. She fixed him with a look, and he returned it with like intensity. “Dessert means after the meal. And after the meal, I will share with you one of my favorite things.” 

She snorted in annoyance, but his look remained unwavering. She grumbled, grabbed a slice of Calabrese salami, folded it, and inserted the entire thing into her mouth, chewing with exaggerated motions. He tried to remain stern, but he could feel one corner of his mouth pulling up into a smirk. He waited until she had finished her angry chewing before crossing his legs in front of him in a more comfortable position, reaching out for one of the softer cheeses, brie, he believed. It was a young brie, the rind not quite sitting in his nose like it should. Still, it was a good compliment to the Genoa salami and...sourdough?

“I got a 90 on my last math test,” she started, grabbing a sip of water from her bottle. “He said he’d give it to my lab teacher for me to work through and maybe get some points back.”

He smiled. “Glad you took my advice on seeking accommodations.” He plucked a grape off the bunch and popped it into his mouth. A bit of sweet to offset the abundance of savory. “Let me know if it helps.”

She nodded, mouth full of a bite of bread. “It seems to be,” she answered after swallowing. “I don’t like the fact that math is this hard for me.”

He shrugged. “I am bad at expressing myself in writing. I have trouble keeping my numbers straight, but I’ve learned strategies over the years.” He rolled up a slice of cheese, then glanced over at her. “Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all. And perhaps your mistakes come from your state of constant hurry.”

Selene stared up at him, pulling the cheese cube away from her tongue. “And what do you mean by that?”

He leaned back, placing the cheese on his lap, letting it unroll. “Think back to the first day we met.”

“I was trying to get some food in my stomach before my class. I hadn’t had breakfast that day, so I was getting something to keep me from keeling over.”

“Ah, there it is. Time management.”

She adjusted the way she was sitting. “You’re not trying to psychoanalyze me, are you?”

“Budding astrophysicist, not psychologist. Or psychiatrist, I can never remember which. But no, your problem is time management. You have little to no sense of time...” he paused slightly, catching the glare over her water bottle, “and when it’s time to do something, it has to happen now or else. Have you considered a planner?”

“Use them for two months, then forget where I put them. Next option.”

Siebren inclined an eyebrow. He was not used to having a suggestion so quickly dismissed. “The calendar on your phone, perhaps?”

“I’ve never used it,” she stated, tearing off another hunk of bread.

“Perhaps now is the time to start?” he proposed, a hint of amusement in his voice.

She sighed, pulled her phone out of her bag, and tossed it across the blanket to land in front of him. 

He sighed as well, adopting a pose he more commonly had when listening to underclassmen explain why they needed more time on an assignment to professors in the department. He purposely took other assignments that didn’t involve being a TA for that reason. “I was going to talk you through, but if you’d like me to set up the first few reminders…”

“Reminders for what? When to get to class?”

“No,” he muttered, slightly disturbed she had no security on her phone--perhaps the next lesson? “Important things. Like remembering to eat. To take a drink of water. To use the bathroom…” He glanced up, her ice blue eyes studying him. “I get caught up in my work too. There have been days where I’ve forgotten to eat and drink anything, and I’ve paid dearly for it.” Her eyes sized him up as he said that. “Let’s start simple. When do you wake up?”

“When do I have to, or when I should?”

He snorted in amusement. “When you should be up. An attempt to retrain your mind into useful habits.”

She plucked two grapes and squirreled them into her cheeks. “My first class is at eight. I live on campus, though.”

He nodded. “And what is your morning routine?”

“Routine?”

“Surely you have things you do every morning? Take a shower, brush your teeth—” he rubbed his tongue over his front teeth subconsciously, noting that he had neglected his own teeth this morning “—have a cup of coffee with hagelslag…” She stared at him with half a slice of sausage in her teeth. “Buttered bread with chocolate sprinkles.”

“For breakfast? That’s considered a normal breakfast?”

He nodded and made a mental note to stop by the store and pick up another box for later. “Do you eat breakfast?”

She shook her head. “It’s not normally a thing. I’m not hungry until like two hours after I wake up, and it’s just easier to skip until lunch.” She stared down at the plates, consolidating the six down to three. 

“Perhaps you could consider a breakfast shake of sorts? I have a lovely recipe for one using cooked oats, peanut butter, a banana, seasonal fruit...fix it before you leave and sip on it as you go.”

“I’ll think about it.” She made a sandwich using a slice of baguette, sausage, Swiss cheese, and a grape, somehow managing to get the entire thing into her mouth. “So I have a wake up alarm and a eat breakfast alarm?”

He nodded. “Now, what is your class schedule this semester?”

She pulled a crumpled half sheet of paper from her bag, rolled up onto her knees and handed it over to him. He glanced down at the page, then back up to her. 

“Yes, I know you’re judging me.”

“Not judging. Just...considering other methods. Examining at a different angle. A three-ring binder with a front pocket, for instance, is a good starting point. Reprint this schedule, slide it into the front, put notes and such inside, since you also like doing things by hand—”

“It kinda becomes muscle memory if I write things down,” she stated, picking up the train of thought easily. “I watch my classmates type stuff and...it feels like we’ve lost touch. My parents were telling me and my sister once that they were probably the last ones to be taught cursive in class.”

Siebren briefly held his breath and stole glances over at her while he inputted when and where her first class was as well as when she should be leaving to get there on time. She had simply continued talking about how she felt she was the only one in her classes who hand wrote anything aside from response papers, seemingly glossing over the mention of her sister. He let his breath out slowly and continued adding reminders and alarms as she finished her train of thought and any meat and cheese that remained on the plates, leaving a small bunch of grapes and two dried apricots on the now stacked plates. He had waited until she had finished her train of thought before taking over, explaining how each of his alerts worked, how he had learned these coping mechanisms in Secondary School and how they had carried over easily to University, requiring only slight tweaks each semester. When he had finished explaining his methods, he noted an odd silence from Selene. He stopped and glanced up.

Selene gazed up at him, head cradled in her hands, elbows resting on her knees. “Your voice...you sound like a chocolate cake.”

“Pardon?”

“Or maybe...the warm caramel drizzle on cold vanilla ice cream.”

He set the phone down and regarded her with another raised eyebrow. He had received comments on his deep baritone voice before, but had never been compared to...food before. 

“I’ve heard some people compare it to a smooth bourbon, but I don’t drink.”

He blinked. “The caramel, or…”

“You have the most wonderful sounding voice,” she said, sitting up, still with a stupid grin across her face. “I could just listen to you go on and on…” she trailed off.

He cleared his throat and rolled up his sleeves. It had been a comfortable temperature outside before, had it gone up since they had started the picnic? “Uh...perhaps time for dessert?” he asked, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Her eyes redirected to the box still between them. He let out a grateful sigh at the change of attention. He opened the box while she pulled out two of the cleanest plates in the stack, then scoffed when he pulled out the slice.

“Is that all?”

No fears of losing her figure here, he chided his inner voice. “You’ve never had boterkoek?” She shook her head. “You poor thing. Let me enlighten you.” He handed her a piece, fished through the bag for a fork, and waited for her to take a bite. She practically purred as she bit into the dense cake.

“Oh...this is good...really good.” She closed her eyes as she swallowed. “How has this not made it over to the States?”

Ah, she is American. “I’m certain there’s areas it’s found. Surely there must be a ‘Little Amsterdam’ to go along with ‘Little Italy’ and ‘Chinatown’?”

“Not in my area.” She took another forkful, chewing slowly, moving it from one side of her mouth to the other. “What did you say this is again?”

“Boterkoek. Butter cake, in essence.”

“Butter cake?”

He nodded. “Butter, sugar, flour. Some add vanilla or lemon zest. I prefer it as is, but if flavor is added, almond, in my opinion, is best.”

“Is that what I’m tasting?”

He shook his head as he grabbed a slice of his own. “I figured I would start you out on what I feel is the purest take. A control, if you will.”

She raised her eyebrows. “So...this is an ongoing experiment?”

“If you will. Many data points.”

“Indeed. Are you providing the samples?”

“I can. But there must be time between the samples. As to not overwhelm the data pool.”

“Mmm-hmm.” She took another bite. “Sound scientific method. I take it you’ve done this experiment before?”

“A purely original hypothesis.”

“I see.” She gave him a sideways grin.

There was a part of him that told him he was clearly missing something socially, but he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. Rather than focus on that, he instead turned his attention back to the dessert. If this was his control, how could he possibly improve?

“So...next week is the next sample size?”

“Perhaps,” he said, swallowing. “Perhaps I assist you with some of your issues in the interim?”

“What issues would that be?”

“Homework?” He watched something in her demeanor change. “Perhaps these meetings become more frequent, I help tutor you, I introduce you to my culture, you enlighten me to yours?”

She smiled. “That sounds fair. Can we switch off where we meet? I know you like inside, but on days like this, can we study al fresco?”

“That sounds agreeable. Tomorrow in the eatery? It’s expected to rain.”

“Sure. I’ll bring dessert.”

[venus-says]

Kamen Rider Fourze Episodes 01-16

Space is here!

... and I couldn't be any less stoked about it.

Yes, despite taking a little longer this time, I'm still doing this madness. I had a few problems these past weeks and I couldn't post on Saturdays like I wanted to do for this "watch all of Kamen Rider" series for like two or three weeks in a row, but I'm still trying my best and I won't give up!

This post is in charge of telling my thoughts on the beginning of the third Kamen Rider series that I watch, and if you could grasp my mood from the first sentence in this text you may know that... I didn't like it. I know what I'm saying may sound like a heresy to some since in all places I looked trying to define what would be my starting point in this franchise EVERYONE recommended Fourze as a good first series to watch and EVERYONE seemed to consider this one of the best Kamen Rider series ever. Well, I don't know if I had my expectations high because of all of that, of if this is just an overestimated series, what I know is that I didn't like it and I don't have many positives to say about it.

Which is odd because I like space, and I like space-themed things so a season about space seemed like a sure deal to me, but I couldn't get invested in anything here. To not say that I disliked everything about Fourze, I like a few insert songs, I could see myself jamming to some of those, and I also like that the villains are based after constellations, that's another cool touch, but that's pretty much it. I don't like the characters, I don't like the setting, I don't like the transformation belt, I don't like the suit designs, I don't like the toys that look like food, I wasn't really interested in the plot, nothing caught my eyes under a positive lighting. Of course, this is just coming from the first third and my opinion may change, but for now, I really dislike everything about Fourze.

And it's not like Fourze is a terrible show either, despite my lack of interest I could see that there were things there that could appeal to a lot of people, the problem is that those things don't appeal to me.

The thing that pushes Fourze away from me the most is the school setting. It may seem odd, after all both Aikatsu and Precure that are my favorite shows are set on schools, but I'm not a fan of the school aspect, I never was, and seeing a season happening on a school seems like a downgrade for me after two very strong seasons that managed to gather a quite diverse cast despite not happening centered around a space where they could gather lots of different people to serve both as allies or MOTW victims. And like it's not even the typical Japanese school setting that at least has the "foreigner" factor to bring some spice, this is a school that looks more like an American school and there's nothing more boring than a story that happens on an American school, with the sport jocks, the mean popular cheerleader, the geeks, the trouble makers, and all that boring stuff. Though I guess to them this would be the "foreigner" element so... In any case, if the school element wasn't present, or if at least it wasn't so focused around that, I could see myself enjoying Fourze more. I would still have my problems with it, though I wouldn't be as uninterested.

The other aspect I don't like is the characters. First, there are way too many of them for me to care about, there are seven "main characters" and I just ask myself why. Like, most of them aren't even characters they are an adjective and their whole character is based around said adjective and they don't evolve at all (I mean they don't have time to since there are seven of them), they have one moment of catharsis that is the point that leads them to join the club and after that, they're just that adjective that defined them once again. I don't feel compelled to like or sympathize with any of them INCLUDING THE PROTAGONIST. Gentarou is just shallow, Kengo is Gotou 2.0 but with a sick body, Yuki is the generic girl companion filling the female quota that has a thing for space to make her fit the story, Miu is the spoiled mean girl, Shun is the jock that is the star of the football team, Tomoko is the goth girl, and I have no idea what JK is supposed to be. And like I could excuse Miu, Shun, Tomo, and JK, being onesided if they were just victims of the MOTW because more or less each one of them had an interesting conflict centering around them for their "introduction" mini-arcs. But at the moment you make them recurring characters you gotta do something with them, you gotta show they're not just a stereotype in the story, but after 16 episodes that's all they are and I don't have hopes that they will have any major changes during the rest of the show.

I usually would take some time to talk about the main trio of this season, but I feel like I have even fewer things to say about them than I have to say about the attached cast. Gentarou is supposed to be the upbeat cheerful lead that you want to root for, but he's the type of person who I hate the most that go around making the rest of the world bow to his will and make things without taking other person's boundaries into consideration and, in the end, he's reassured that what he's doing is right. I just can't like him, I'm sorry. Kengo is just boring, they try to make him interesting by giving him a sickness and a tragic past but it doesn't work for me. And Yuki is basically the same, don't get me wrong in terms of female companions she's an improvement from Hina and Akiko, but like, she lacks so much she's so generic I don't have any feeling for her.

I wish I had something to say about the villains but we didn't get a lot of them in these episodes. They're based on the zodiac and they're all of the school staff it seems so I think that's cool. We've only seen two generals so far and I liked one but disliked the other so there's no concrete thing I can say about their designs. The zodiarts are cool, some designs are hit or miss but I like the concept of being constellations and that they can evolve/grade change into a general. I think the most exciting thing from the villains so far was seeing that the teacher was the Scorpio constellation because that was truly shocking I never guessed that bland teacher could be a villain, very sad she "lasted" for like only two episodes, but she hasn't been utterly defeated so I guess she can still come back.

Before I go on with Fourze's design, I'll comment on something I didn't find a place for it. I don't know if it's just me, but this was a very slow show. Because of the "two episodes, one story" formula it took freaking TWELVE EPISODES to introduce all characters of the club and it felt so dragged, like if things weren't moving at a proper pace. Another thing that was quite difficult to me was accepting that those actors were high school kids, which is weird because I made the research and, by the calcs, everyone in the cast was around 18 years old by the time of release so it shouldn't feel as weird to have them playing high school kids, but I don't know there's something in there that doesn't register as right with me. Also, I was shocked by the small number of notes I had, for a post like this I usually have three pages worth of comments that I write on a notebook while I watch the show, but I could barely write a full page on these 16 episodes and that's just sad.

And the last thing I have to complain about is Fourze's design. I'm sorry, but this design is ugly a hell, it took me so much to realize the helmet was supposed to be a rocket is not even funny. If their goal was to make something alien well congratulations to them because that looks awkward and uncomfortable as hell. And the power-ups? I know this probably sounded like a great idea on paper but the execution is way too wonky for me to like. And also he has the most awkward add-ons ever like, who though a brush would be a good power up? Not even the electric and the fire forms were able to make the design improve.

I could complain some more and talk about the new rider that comes out of nowhere once again, but I'm tired and I don't wanna sound more annoying as I probably already do so I'll wrap things up here. Feel free to tell me how wrong I am in the comments, but please be kind. XD I'll see you guys another time, hopefully being more positive next time.

[my-healing-journey]

June 4, 2021

At the advice of my therapist, I have written the following letter to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. This has not been mailed to any church official, and has not been shared with any church members in particular. I felt it important to share here.

——

Dear Mormon Church,

To the friends I used to have, to the people who watched me grow, to those who held my babies, to you who comforted me, to you who brought me food, and to all of you who then turned and believed the worst of me when you were lied to,

I’m hurt.

You’ve hurt me.

I used to find peace at church. Now all I feel is wrecked.

A black ball of tightly wadded mess sits in my stomach, just below my diaphragm.

How could you?

How could you betray me like that?

For those who told me they loved me on a regular basis, and then turned eyes of hatred against me.

How could you?

You didn’t even bother to verify the stories with me. You didn’t ask me how I felt. You didn’t support me. You didn’t bother to come visit me. You looked at my children differently. You stopped talking to me altogether. You outcasted me.

Because of lies.

Lies that I still can’t believe you believed.

How could someone who claims to love you, who claims to cherish you, who claims to appreciate you, cast you aside without a second glance? Without a second thought?

This church is a boys’ club. I’d heard it before, but I didn’t believe it.

I know it now. I know it. I know because I’ve lived it. I’ve witnessed firsthand. And I can’t ignore it.

So where do I go from here? Do I leave the faith I still largely believe, in order to try and find peace? Since attending and even not attending brings me agony of spirit, do I cut ties and find some other way to move forward? Do I join another church? Despite the teachings unique to this church which I feel are true? Will the other churches just be glorified boys’ clubs, too?

Will I be damned if I do not raise my children in this church?

I am terrified.

I feel frozen with one foot dangling from a crumbling cliff face.

Do I stay or do I go?

Not everyone has been awful. Some people have been wonderful. They are the ones who I know are true friends. They tell me to do what I feel is best for me. But I don’t know what’s best for me. I’ve always been taught that church is best for me, and I’ve believed that for my entire life, but how can something which brings so much turmoil and sorrow be good?

“By their fruits shall ye know them”

The fruits I’ve seen here have been spoiled. I see others receiving whole, beautiful fruits, and mine used to be beautiful as well, but now they’re tarnished and brown and fermenting.

I don’t understand the disconnect.

I’m hurt.

To you who told me to pray for things to be fixed: I did.

To you who told me to pray for hearts to be softened: I did.

To you who told me that my marriage would work once a couple of decades had passed: I didn’t want to suffer. He didn’t deserve my suffering. I didn’t deserve my suffering. My children didn’t deserve to suffer.

Is the institution of marriage really more important than the souls it involves? Because he had the power to destroy my soul. My soul had been crushed. I managed to salvage what was left before it was completely gone.

I am scarred. So many scars.

And, unfortunately, you have added to those scars in such deep ways that I can’t bring myself to stand near a temple again.

I used to love church. I loved church. I loved the temple. Now I just want to cry whenever I see one. The buildings remind me of the pillar I used to have. The pillar which is now dark and tainted.

There was no “praying the problems away.”There was no “handing the problems to God.”There was no prayer which could have solved my problems.

I know, because I tried. I tried for seven years.

This wasn’t a trivial matter. This was my family. My life. My children’s lives.

I prayed for kindness. I prayed for his heart to be softened. I prayed for him to smile at me. I asked to be seen. I asked for gentleness and peace. But most of all, I prayed to just be kept safe. For my children and I to be protected from his anger.

We weren’t protected. I didn’t receive kindness from him. (And when I did, it was in lieu of an apology.) His heart wasn’t softened. His smiles were shallow. He didn’t see me. He wasn’t gentle, and he didn’t bring peace. And he hurt my children.

He told them to shut up when they were singing. He locked them outside the house. He hit them. He hurt them. He force-fed them. He screamed at them. His actions told me that he hated them. Those who are precious to me. Those who should’ve been precious to him.

I want you to know that he put on a show for you. He lied to you. He was pious and compliant at church. He was tender-hearted and kind at church. He was helpful and loving at church.

You were duped.

I don’t blame you for that. I was duped, too.

What I blame you for is the actions you took. And the inactions. When I vocalized what was happening, I was silenced. I wasn’t believed. I wasn’t seen. You ignored me. And then you shunned me when I dragged my broken soul somewhere else in order to save myself before I was completely destroyed. In order to protect my children, the most innocent of all.

I needed you, and you left me.

You who raised me. You who claimed to love me. You believed his lies, and you abandoned me.

These scars run deep.

I don’t know if I’ll ever recover.

I’m tired. I’m so tired. I hate feeling this way.

Some of my wounds have healed. These ones run deep.

I’m torn and wounded and hurting.

To those of you who actively and immediately took his side and hated me without bothering to ask me for my part:

Fuck you.

Congratulations, you’ve sided with an abuser and perpetuated the boys’ club. Get out of my life. And stay out. You are not welcome here.

To those of you who reached out in concern but then refused to hear my story because you wanted to remain neutral:

I don’t need you.

Mutual support should not be given when one of the parties threatens the other’s life and wellbeing. So fuck you, too.

To those of you who remained oblivious:

I cast no blame.

And to those of you who helped me, who cried with me, who embraced me and listened to me, who reached out with kindness and sincerity:

Thank you.

I want you to know that your support has been and is still immensely appreciated. Your comfort helps bring peace to my battered soul.

“By their fruits shall ye know them”

You are beautiful. Thank you for believing me. Thank you for helping me. Thank you for listening. Thank you for your patience and perseverance.

I am hurt. I am wounded. Church has failed me. It’s a giant boys’ club. I know that now.

I wish I could feel peace here again. I wish I could feel happiness here again. I wish I could heal these torn parts of my soul.

I don’t know how to move on.

God never left me. I started feeling His presence again as soon as I moved out of the house I had shared with my husband.

This has been such a confusing experience. Such a disheartening, sickening, anxiety-ridden, fear-inducing, loathsome experience.

I hate that my relationship with my religion has been blackened. I hate that this was one of the casualties of my divorce.

Why did it have to be like this?

I know that the church is a patriarchal society. I never hated that until I went through my divorce. Now I feel invisible most of the time. I feel like I’ve been swept under a rug. I’ve become one of the situations we’re not supposed to talk about. When the family isn’t forever, when the word “abuse” is appropriately used.

To all of the previously addressed church members,

To members everywhere:

Abuse is very real. It exists. It is rampant in religious circles. Those of us who have experienced abuse need your belief. We need your support. We need your understanding and your reassurance.

Wake up.

Believe the victims. Prosecute the offenders. Don’t let them continue to move on and do whatever they want to do. Don’t let them lay their hands on someone else, whether in blessing or in harm. Protect the innocent. Stand for truth and righteousness.

That’s what you’re supposed to do.

I want you to know that I’m not crazy. I never was. I never cheated on him. I never did anything to even remotely dishonor my marriage vows. I was loyal. I was faithful. I lived every commandment I was taught to the “T.” I was a good wife. I am a good mother.

And I hate you sometimes.

You’ve brought me so much pain and agony. To the deepest parts of my soul.

How dare you.

Not a question.

A statement.

How dare you.

God never left me. But you did.

[cosmosfated]

   “...eight.”  His fingers curl into tight fists, claws digging into his skin almost to the point of drawing blood.  He hates things like this.  He doesn’t want to talk about it.  It still irritates him.  He knows the truth about it but it still doesn’t make him feel any better!  He feels so heated that he ─ for a moment ─ doesn’t feel so cold anymore.

                           ( but he’ll not sacrifice CONTROL to be WARM. )

   “back when we were still underground. when i was “remade” into CHARA. the Prince of the underground and their guiding hope. back then, i believed that i finally had everything i could ever want. i had a home to go back to. a family that i believed loved me for me. people that actually wanted to know me. a body that i could feel truly myself in. i could read and learn and become better on so many levels without ridicule. even my magic was considered something to be inspired to reach towards, even by those who barely knew me! everyone loved me. and then he started questioning it. he finished building the core, and it started picking up on strange signatures. i heard him talking about it with some other scientists he was close with. he had said that the core’s reading were responding to something else in the underground, but that shouldn’t have been possible. even the power of a human’s soul wouldn’t be able to generate enough energy to cause a rebound off of the core’s processing and energy dispersion. he started to investigate. no matter what i tried, i could never get him to stop.”

   “i had gotten so frustrated with his stubbornness. he refused to let it go, no matter what i tried to say or get him to understand. if anything, it made him more curious. if word got out that i wasn’t only me, that i had something inhuman taking up residency in my soul and bones, then i would no longer be the savior of the underground. i wouldn’t even be the human Prince. i would be nothing, AGAIN. i would be shunned and hated and maybe even beat again. i couldn’t let him take that from me.”

   “i guess, back then, the only thing i was truly mad about was him stealing my only “freedom” in that part of the deal from me. “choosing” the way i died. i realize now that i had no choice the way i died, as i had to make us fit in with the rest of the timelines at least to this degree. but back then... it felt like betrayal. even now, it still feels like a knife in my back, a wound that... never really heals.”

   “but, as a last resort, i decided to...”   Sigh...  “...take matters into my own hands. i went to the core to shut it down myself. i wasn’t concerned with if i stayed there or not. i knew that, for their plan and our deal to work, i would need to be alive. other people spontaneously “disappearing” could be worked around. i had utter confidence that everything would go exactly as i wanted it to. and then he just HAD to show up to try and fix it, try to get it to stabilize. i hadn’t planned for him to be there. i hadn’t planned for anyone to run towards the collapsing major energy center of the underground instead of away from it, let alone the raven who i believed to be a coward to several degrees. he had told me that he had “figured out what was wrong with me” and that he “wanted to help set me free”. he was... so close you know. i actually believed him. maybe that’s why they reminded me that they were the one that gave me everything i wanted. maybe that’s why they told me that, to keep it, i would have to get rid of the person who wants to get rid of me.”

   “so i tripped him while he was trying to come pick me up. while he was fumbling for his steps, i pushed him over the already unhinged railing. last second, he... he grabbed me by the forearm and pulled me down with him. that was never supposed to happen. he was never supposed to do that. he was supposed to go down screaming, not taking the person who did it with him. he was... different than the rest of the ones i was told about. they said that he was a coward. that he wouldn’t fight back. but that look in his eyes. he was so determined to fight. right before the world shattered, i swear he smiled at me... or was it even at me? sometimes i don’t know.”

   Fleur turns his gaze downward and shrugs his shoulders up as if to hide his face.  “maybe i was in the wrong for doing that to him. maybe he was in the wrong for grabbing me to go down with him. maybe we were both in the wrong for not communicating. whatever the case, i can’t forgive him for that. if he hadn’t have done that, maybe the other fragments that i met wouldn’t have found me. maybe i wouldn’t be so fucked up. but then again... maybe he was just a minor blip, and i was always cursed to end up the way i am. but hey, now you know the whole story of i was a spoiled brat then and i’m a spoiled brat now. are you happy?”

invasive inquiries.  /  accepting.

[theprodigaldaughtersworld]

Black Widow/Castaway What would you call her?

Tam Beddingford looked out over the beautiful back forty that made up the boundary of her ranch. Never in a million years would she have envisioned thdis for herself. Lord knows her beginning was full of betrayal to go with the doom and gloom. A tear slid down her face at the sound of her twin sons Peter and Zora splashing in the Olympic sized pool that was a gift from Jude. He thought spoiling them would absolve him of his guilt. She took a sip of her sweet tea as a tear slid down her cheek, then turned to Stephanie Heartache, a reporter from Broken Hearts and Troubled Wives. Stephanie had come all of the way from New York City to interview the Double Deadly Black Widow. It was kind of funny when she thought about it. 

Stephanie took a deep breath as Tam asked her, “What would you like to know?” Well Tam, I would like to know how it feels to be so beautiful, talented and feared by every man on the planet? Tam responded with a bitter laugh. So you go straight for the juggler? Did you come for the juicy gossip or the truth? I have never told my story before. I am only doing so now because my boys need to know the truth about their mother. They are at that age where the internet will educate them about who I am if I don’t speak soon. Social media has destroyed my character and made me a pariah in the church as well as polite society. If my parents and father-in-law weren’t on the HOA board Heavenly Hills would have banned me from purchasing all that you see."

My family is originally from Senegal. I had no clue that they were still entering into traditional marriage contracts. I was raised believing we had moved to America to escape the rituals and traditions that held the women in my family in bondage. My father never indicated that he had promised me to Jude Blankenship’s first born son at my birth. The only time I even thought of the Blankenship boys and their nasty attitudes was when my sisters and I were forced to spend a week at their famly home on our annual trips to Senegal. I always assumed it was because our fathers were business partners. 

My father summoned me home to Dallas the night before my 22nd birthday and two days before the launch of my first clothing line at New York Fashion Week. When I arrived the party was already in full swing at my family’s estate I naively assumed it was in honor of my birthday and my launch. No way would I have guessed it was my wedding. But it was, my father pulled me into my old bedroom and announced that Aaron had waited long enough for me to make something of myself. My fashion line was already sold out so it was time to take my place as his wife. My jaw dropped to the ground. I could not believe what I was hearing. Tam chuckled, I could not even tell you the exact color of the Vera Wang gown the stylist draped around me. I had no choice. A broken contract would cost my father his fortune. As the oldest daughter I felt obligated to protect what he had worked so hard for. I detested Aaron. He was a horrible unpleasant child. He was a saint then compared to what he had become. Yes he was fine, but he was selfish. He lorded his status and privilege over everyone. 

Stephanie swallowed hard. She had been in this business too long to not know you never walked into an interview thinking you knew your subject. How many times had she prejudged someone only to discover they were the exact opposite of the blogs and social media posts. The most innocent people became monsters in person while those most maligned were usually victims of bad gossip and petty rivalries. Shame caused her face to turn crimson as she tried to to comfort Tam. It was not your responsibility to keep your family fortune intact. You had broken away from the fold and created your own launch pad. 

I am Senegalese before I am an American. My family honor trumps the comfort and happiness of being a daughter. Being the first born anything carries much weight and responsibility. My father had no sons to carry on our name and Jude had no daughters to give in exchange for a secure financial future.

Tam frowned as she remembered how rough Aaron had been taking her virginity. The shame and humiliation she felt as he spilled his seed onto her belly while he laughed at her disdainfully. I’ll never put a child in a woman who is so weak. You didn’t even attempt to defy our fathers and their antiquated agreement. It is 2000 what woman allows herself to be sold into slavery to a man who will never love or be faithful to her? With these words he climbed off her returning shortly to throw a cold wet wash cloth at her. Clean yourself I am going to sleep. All she could do was crawl out of bed and run a warm bath. Maybe the heat of the water would ease the burn between her legs. That bath was her only comfort that night. She climbed back into bed with a husband that detested her only to find he had turned his back and was eerily cold.

She was eating breakfast the next morning when Rhoda ran into the dining room screaming that Aaron wasn’t breathing. Tam called 911. Aaron had died while Team was in the tub. The coroner's report said it was a heart attack.

Stephanie's next question was full of empathy. "How did it feel to have so many drastic life changing events in such a short period of time? Tam smiled, Girl, those were only the beginning of my life changing events. I should have bed relieved but I did not get the opportunity to process anything. Our parents swooped in and took Omar, Aaron's brother and myself to city hall where we were forced into a levirate marriage. Aaron had to have an heir to carry on his legacy.

Omar was a little kinder but could be just as mean spirited. Night after night for a week he pulled out right before planting his seed swearing he would not father a child that would not be considered his own. On the eighth night his heart gave out as he was pulling out of me. I know they heard my screams from Dallas to Fort Worth.

We had a double funeral because all of the family members had arrived the day before. Afterwards Jude and Theodore, my father, agreed that I would return to my parents home until the youngest and last Blankenship, Sean turned 18. We would marry fulfilling my family's contractual obligations and live happily every after. Jude decided I was cursed and never intended for us to marry. Sean was only a 14 year old boy. The whole idea was ludicrous. The local society page The Teetotaler game me tee name Double Deadly Black Widow.

I felt betrayed abandoned and rejected. I knew I wasn't cursed. Those men were no good. I was all alone in my parents home designing under a pseudonym. No one wanted to purchase a cursed woman's clothing. Even the women at my church shunned me.

Five years later my younger sister, Fabiola sent me a screenshot of a Facebook post. Sean had married a young lady closer to his age on the family yacht in a lavish ceremony. I was devastated, again. How could anyone be so cruel? My entire life had been planned for me from birth. I submitted to the culture and customs only to be thrown away without a second thought. Every year on the anniversary of the deaths it all starts up again. I became a recluse. I couldn't leave my father's home without paparazzi trailing me. I was 27 years old with no social life and no hope of ever marrying. I would never enjoy the beauty and ministry that is marriage.

An excerpt from Only in the Bible an original work of fiction written by yours truly.

Remain Blessed.

[sixeightsuited]

Horizon Zero Dawn and Cultural appropriation: A very different view.

For the first time EVER, I’m sitting on the other side of a discussion about appropriating native culture.  Why?  Well, let me lay the framework.

First off, I’m not a guy who “knows a Native American” or has a “Native friend”  I am a 100% Anishinabe (Ojibway) dude who lives on reserve and has fought racism, stereotypes, pan-Indianism, and cultural appropriation fiercely for as long as I can remember. I’ve been the victim of horrendous racial violence as a child, adolescent, and adult, and I’m also a gamer.

I am the first to point out anything that smacks of any of the above and after I saw the Dia Lacina essay on “Horizon: Zero Dawn” being culturally insensitive and appropriating Native culture, I felt for the first time in a situation like this that I had to say something in rebuttal.

Lacina takes issue with the use of the words Tribal, Primitive, Braves, and Savage being used in the game (fyi they’re used to describe predominantly white people in game and they’re White words we didn’t use to describe ourselves thus I claim no ownership of, nor want to, anymore than I want to be a redskin, Indian or Wahoo)  

It seems (IMO) that most of her beef comes from an apparent belief that numerous aspects of generic tribal culture that appear in the game (making clothing from skins, hunting with spears and bows, living in a Matriarchal society, etc) are the sole domain of the Native American and just to be safe and cleverly keep her POV less subject to scrutiny, she applies it even more broadly to indigenous people world wide (I will just refer to us in particular as NA cuz I’m lazy and I also don’t refer to myself as a Native American) and basically that anything that is remotely “tribal” shouldn’t be used in gaming without our or someone else’s permission.

 In fairness, I don’t know if she’s actually played the game but as someone who is currently in the midst of doing exactly that, I can tell you that I have a pretty good idea of what stuff triggered her being upset and why, and while I absolutely respect her right to get offended by whatever she likes, and she makes excellent points about some other games, I am going to point out that there are flaws with this logic.

First of all, the basics: HZD is set in a post-post-apocalyptic future where people are living in tribal groups in a very destroyed world.  Machines exist but as hybrid animal/dinosaur type creatures and technology is pretty much non-existent in day to day human life.  

The heroine of the story is a red haired, white girl named Aloy who lives as an outcast with her adopted father, Rost.  Without giving a lot away, they are fiercely shunned by the local tribe for something Rost did and also the fact that Aloy is motherless.  

Impressively and rightly, though somewhat dismissively remarked upon by Lacina, is the way women and especially women of color are portrayed so positively in-game as this particular tribe is a total Matriarchy run by elders of various ethnicity.  African, Asian, White, and a variety of undefined people of color are common everywhere in the game.  (The leader of one band of warriors is a very fierce, commanding, intelligently portrayed black woman with a powerful presence.)  It reflects a fairly global society from a “skin color” perspective without any horrible accents or broken speech.

They worship an “All-Mother” goddess and their culture is (at least how I saw a lot of it) fairly heavy on European i.e. Celtic, Germanic, Scandinavian, etc type symbolism and the rest is filled in with mostly generic tribal-ish stuff that you could find in countless cultures around the world.

 I really didn’t get a “Native American” vibe off the game.  Of course, I don’t automatically presume to claim sole ownership of things like tribal life, hunting with bows and spears, and worshiping spirits of various elements solely for my own.  Random fact: Because there are over 500 distinct First Nations in N. America, we, believe it or not, didn’t all ride horses, live in tipis, use bows and arrows, tobacco and sage, and worship Eagles and Wolves.  Why? Well…use your brain.  Tobacco and Sage don’t grow EVERYWHERE, horses came over with the Europeans (and if you saw where I live you couldn’t have and cant for the most part get a horse through the bush if you tried) Eagles and Wolves don’t live EVERYWHERE….get the point?  Anyways….

If you examine Rost, he like most of the men has a braided beard and other seemingly Viking/Middle Ages inspired features, is white, speaks clear, unbroken English, and is a loving, protective and very positive role model for the girl.   Aloy for her part, is also fairly Viking-esque (to the point of looking incredibly like Lagaertha from the show Vikings but with red hair) also Egrit from GoT, and is no damsel in distress who needs men to save her. NOWHERE in the game have I encountered any Tipis, wigwams, Sweatlodges, or Non-White people speaking in stereotypical “Me smoke-um peace pipe, He go dat-a way” fashion.

The  opening cinematic is very touching (and long) as we see the orphaned Aloy as a baby in Rost’s care being carried around in a bundle on his back (which pretty much every culture did in one form or another at some point in time) and him ultimately taking her to the spot where a child of the tribe receives it’s name.

I really liked this idea as it isn’t often portrayed in a lot of mediums outside of stereotypical “Dances With Wolves” bullshit. Also, naming ceremonies are not the sole domain of NA people and what occurs bears zero resemblance to any NA ceremony I know of.  (It was actually a little Lion King at one point lol) But it’s a powerful moment in the beginning with much more that occurs during it but I won’t spoil that either.

Aloy herself is a pretty complex character.  She’s extremely independent, defiant, and questions pretty much everything about why things are the way they are and wants to do something about it.  You actually begin playing her as a 6 year old which is pretty unique and even then she’s tough and fearless and determined to explore her world.  

She is in no way hyper-sexualized (I’m looking your way Overwatch) Her clothing and everyone else’s, is utilitarian and appropriate for the environments she lives in, and so far, I have not encountered anything with her or any other character that made me go “WTF?”and trust me, my radar for that shit is HIGHLY SENSITIVE.  This isn’t Avatar, people.  It’s not John Smith. It’s not The Great Wall or Pocahontas.  This isn’t white dude shows up and saves the helpless non-white people while helpless native woman falls in love with him stuff.  It’s a fictitious future where we maniacs blew it up, damn us all to hell!

But here’s the more annoying thing for me as an actual Anishinabe.  I don’t need people speaking for me or getting offended on my behalf.  I am very capable of doing that myself. I am also in no way writing this claiming to be speaking for any other NA people or persons. It’s based on my observations from actually playing HZD and examining the various fictional “cultural” elements in the game.

If you see a skin tied inside a hoop and automatically assume it’s a dreamcatcher” ripping off “our culture” (FYI Dreamcatchers are a 20th century thing whose popularity was a result of pan-Indianism that exploded in the 70s.) or if you see feathers on a spear or as part of a costume (nowhere is anyone wearing a single eagle feather in the back of a beaded headband or a Dakota looking headdress either) and automatically presume it to be ripping off NA culture, you’re REEEEEEEEEEALY reaching.  If you think caring for the environment, obeying matriarchs, worshipping elemental spirits, or making your own clothes is solely the property of NA culture, see previous statement.

By all means get offended.  Get offended by Chief Wahoo.  Get offended by the Washington Redskins.  Get offended that thousands of Native women have been murdered or gone missing and nothing’s been done about it.  Get offended by Johnny Depp or Robert Beltran playing Native people instead of actual Native people getting those roles.  Get offended by shit like Adam Sandler’s “Ridiculous 6” where a native woman is called a “hot piece of red prairie meat” or Depp’s “Lone Ranger” movie.

Get offended that my family was destroyed by the Residential Schools and that the 60s scoop took babies away from their families and people, that forced sterilizations took place and mass graves of dead Native children exist at former Residential School sites.

Don’t just jump on the I’m offended bandwagon because you saw some feathers or skins or spears or bows in a game and immediately grew indignant and wanted to claim them as OUR culture.  They’re not.  They’re almost globally universal in numerous cultures at various points in time.  Get offended, as she rightly mentioned, when the game Overwatch sexualizes the shit out of almost every female character and takes West Coast tribal art and makes a costume out of it.  

THAT is appropriation.  White people holding powwows in Europe (powwows are also pretty much not traditional and are extremely pan-Indian, not to mention full of us appropriating each other’s Native cultures ie. Dakotas wearing Jingle Dresses, Ojibway wearing Dakota regalia, etc) is appropriation.

This game……I’m just not seeing it the same way.  And I’m nobody.  I have no ties to Guerilla or anybody other than myself and my community.

[nostalgiaispeace]

268.

Bold survey

Shy Girl

1. You haven’t been in a lot of relationships. 2. People have asked you to speak up because they couldn’t hear what you were saying. 3. You get nervous when meeting new people. 4. You’re not good at talking to guys you like. 5. You have trouble making new friends. 6. With a group of friends, you are usually the one who doesn’t add much to the conversation. Total: 5

The Girl With Low Self-Esteem

1. You are not happy with your appearance. 2. You don’t think you’re good enough for any guy. 3. You don’t bother trying to get a date because you know you don’t have a chance. 4. You think people are lying when they compliment you. 5. You are not satisfied with your weight. 6. Sometimes you wish you were someone else. Total: 10

The Girl Who Is Too Obsessive

1. You like to know where your boyfriend is at all times. 3. You tell your boyfriend what he is and isn’t allowed to do. 4. Sometimes you message/text/call your boyfriend too much. 5. You’ve followed a boyfriend before because you thought he was cheating. 6. You have trouble keeping a boyfriend. Total: 11

Flirty Girl

1. You are obsessed with cute guys. 2. You have cheated or would cheat on a boyfriend. 3. You can’t be happy with just one guy. 4. You have been known to flirt a lot. 5. What your boyfriend doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 6. A lot of guys think you’re attractive. Total: 11

Confused Girl

1. Your relationship status is complicated. 2. You don’t know what kind of guy you want. 3. You’re not good at making decisions. 4. You’ve thought you were in love but really weren’t. 5. You get confused easily. 6. You are always changing your mind. Total: 15

The Needy Girl

1. You’ve been badly hurt after a breakup. 2. You depend too much on others. 3.You would do anything for a boyfriend if it meant making him happy. 4. Your boyfriend is a huge priority. 5. You can’t stand being away from your boyfriend. 6. You would accept anyone who asked you out. Total: 18

Playgirl

1. You have been in a lot of relationships. 2. You have hooked up with someone just for sex. 3. Most of your relationships weren’t serious. 4. You don’t really care if you break someone’s heart. 5. You are good at getting guys. 6. You are not a virgin. Total: 20

The Future-Seeking Girl 1. You have thought you found “the one” before. 2. You have imagined what you and your boyfriend’s kids will look like. 3. You want to get married. 4. You want kids. 5. You’d like serious long-term relationships.

6. You and a boyfriend have talked about your future together.

Total: 26

The Attention-Seeking Girl

1. You love attention. 2. You have faked an illness or made a story up to get someone’s attention. 3.You love receiving gifts more than giving them. 4. You love PDA. 5. You hate it when your boyfriend pays more attention to someone else rather than you. 6. You would date someone even if you didn’t like them. Total: 28

The Dominator

1. You hate it when you don’t get your way. 2. You wear the pants in your relationship. 3. Your boyfriend would do anything for you. 4. You are spoiled or someone has called you spoiled. 5. You love to be in control of things. 6.You are usually the one to plan the things you and your boyfriend do. Total: 31

I’m SKINNY, so I MUST be anorexic. I’m EMO, so I MUST cut my wrists. I’m a NEGRO so I MUST carry a gun. I’m BLONDE, so I MUST be a ditz I’m JAMAICAN so I MUST smoke weed. I’m HAITIAN so I MUST eat cat. I’m ASIAN, so I MUST be sexy. I’m JEWISH, so I MUST be greedy. I’m GAY, so I MUST have AIDS. I’m a LESBIAN, so I MUST have a sex-tape. I’m ARAB, so I MUST be a terrorist. I SPEAK MY MIND, so I MUST be a b***h. I’m a GAY RIGHTS SUPPORTER, so I WILL go to hell. I’m a CHRISTIAN, so I MUST think gay people should go to hell. I’m RELIGIOUS, so I MUST shove my beliefs down your throat. I’m ATHEIST so I MUST hate the world. I don’t have a RELIGION, so I MUST be evil and have no morals. I’m REPUBLICAN, so I MUST not care about poor people. I’m DEMOCRAT, so I MUST not believe in being responsible. I am LIBERAL, so I MUST be gay. I’m SOUTHERN, so I MUST be white trash.

I TAKE (or used to take) ANTI-DEPRESSANTS, so I MUST be crazy.

I’m a GUY, so I MUST only want to get into your pants. I’m IRISH, so I MUST have a bad drinking problem. I’m INDIAN, so I MUST own a convenient store. I’m NATIVE AMERICAN, so I MUST dance around a fire screaming like a savage. I’m a CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be a whore. I’m a DANCER, So I must be stupid, stuck up, and a whore. I wear SKIRTS a lot, so I MUST be a slut. I’m a PUNK, so I MUST do drugs. I’m RICH, so I MUST be a conceited snob. I WEAR BLACK, so I MUST be a goth or emo. I’m a WHITE GIRL, so I MUST be a nagging, steal-your-money kind of girlfriend. I’m CUBAN, so I MUST spend my spare time rolling cigars. I’m NOT A VIRGIN, so I MUST be easy. I FELL IN LOVE WITH A MARRIED MAN, so I MUST be a home-wrecking whore. I’m a TEENAGE MOM, so I MUST be an irresponsible slut. I’m POLISH, so I MUST wear my socks with my sandals. I’m ITALIAN, so I must have a “big one”. I’m EGYPTIAN, so I must be a TERRORIST! I’m PRETTY, so I MUST not be a virgin. I HAVE STRAIGHT A’S, so I MUST have no social life. I DYE MY HAIR CRAZY COLORS, so I MUST be looking for attention. I DRESS IN UNUSUAL WAYS so I MUST be looking for attention. I’m INTO THEATER & ART, so I MUST be a homosexual. I’m a VEGETARIAN, so I MUST be a crazy political activist. I HAVE A BUNCH OF GUY FRIENDS, so I MUST be ******** them all. I HAVE A BUNCH OF GIRLS WHO ARE FRIENDS, so I MUST be a player. I have Big BOOBS, so I MUST be a hoe. I’m COLOMBIAN, so I MUST be a drug dealer. I WEAR WHAT I WANT, so I MUST be a poser. I’m RUSSIAN, so I MUST be cool and thats how Russians roll. I’m GERMAN, so I must be a Nazi. I hang out with GAYS, so I must be GAY TOO. im BRAZILIAN, so I MUST have a BIG BUTT. I’m PUERTO RICAN, so I MUST look good and be conceited. I’m SALVADORIAN, so I MUST be in MS 13. I’m POLISH, so I MUST be greedy. I’m HAWAIIAN so I MUST be lazy. I’m PERUVIAN, so I MUST like llamas. I’m a STONER so I MUST be going in the wrong direction. I’m a VIRGIN so I MUST be prude. I’m STRAIGHT EDGE so I must be violent. I’m a FEMALE GAMER, so I MUST be ugly. I’m BLACK so I MUST love fried chicken and kool-aid. I’m a GIRL who actually EATS LUNCH, so I MUST be fat. I’m SINGLE so I MUST be ugly. I’m a SKATER so I must do weed and steal stuff I’m a PUNK so I must only wear black and date only other punks I’m ASIAN so I must be a NERD that does HOMEWORK 24/7 I’m CHRISTIAN so I MUST hate homosexuals. I’m MIXED so I must be screwed up. I’m MUSLIM so I MUST be a terrorist. I’m in BAND, so I MUST be a dork. I’m BLACK so I MUST believe JESUS WUZ A BROTHA I’m MORMON so I MUST be perfect I’m WHITE and have black friends so I MUST think I’m black I’m GOTH so I MUST worship the devil. I’m HISPANIC, so I MUST be dirty. I’m NOT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, so I MUST be a loser. I’m OVERWEIGHT, so I MUST have a problem with self control. I’m PREPPY, so I MUST shun those who don’t wear Abercrombie & Hollister. I’m YOUNG, so I MUST be naive. I’m MEXICAN, so I MUST have hopped the border. I GOT A CAR FOR MY BIRTHDAY, so I MUST be a spoiled brat. I’m BLACK, so I MUST love watermelon I’m BI, so I MUST think every person I see is hot. I’m an ASIAN GUY, so I MUST have a small p***s. I’m a GUY CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be gay. I’m a PREP, so I MUST be rich. I don’t like the SUN so I MUST be an albino. I have a lot of FRIENDS, so I MUST love to drink and party. I wear tight PANTS and I’m a guy, so I MUST be emo. I couldn’t hurt a FLY, So I MUST be a p***y. I support GAY RIGHTS, so I MUST fit in with everyone. I hang out with teenage drinkers and smokers, so I MUST smoke and drink too. I have ARTISTIC TALENT, so I MUST think little of those who don’t. I don’t like to be in a BIG GROUP, so I MUST be anti-social. I have a DIFFERENT sense of HUMOR, so I MUST be crazy. I tell people OFF, so I MUST be an over controlling b***h. My hair gets GREASY a lot, so I MUST have no hygiene skills. I’m DEFENSIVE, so I MUST be over controlling and a b***h. I’m a NUDIST, so I MUST want everyone to see my boobs. I read Comics, so I MUST be a loser. I hang out with a FORMER PROSTITUTE so I MUST be a whore myself. I’m TEXAN so I MUST ride a horse I’m a CROSSDRESSER, So I must be gay I draw ANIME so I MUST be a freak. I am a FANGIRL so I MUST be a crazy, obsessed stalker. I WATCH PORN so I MUST be perverted. I’m an ONLY CHILD so I MUST be spoiled. I’m INTELLIGENT so I MUST be weak I am AMERICAN so I MUST be obese, loud-mouthed and arrogant. I’m WELSH so I MUST love sheep I’m SCOTTISH so I MUST have ginger hair and wear a skirts I’m a YOUNG WRITER, so I MUST be emo. I’m CANADIAN, so I MUST talk with a funny accent. I’m a GUY, so I MUST ditch my pregnant girlfriend. I’m CANADIAN, so I MUST love hockey and beavers. I’m DISABLED, so I MUST be on Welfare. I’m a FEMINIST, so I MUST have a problem with sexuality and I want to castrate every man on the earth. I’m a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE. I WEAR A BIG SUNHAT when I go outside, so I MUST be stupid. I like BLOOD, so I must be a VAMPIRE. I’m an ALBINO, so I MUST be an evil person with mental abilities and is A MURDERER! I’m ENGLISH, so I MUST speak with either a cockney or a posh accent, love tea and cricket, and have bad teeth. I’m WHITE, so I MUST be responsible for everything going wrong on the planet: past, present, and future. I don’t like YAOI or YURI, so I must be a HOMOPHOBE I’m not the most POPULAR person in school, so I MUST be a loser I care about the ENVIRONMENT…I MUST be a tree hugging hippy I have a FAN CHARACTER, so I MUST be an annoying Mary-sue. I CHAT, I MUST be having cyber sex. I’m PAGAN so I MUST sacrifice babies and drink the blood of virgins I’m PAGAN so I MUST worship Satan I’m CONSERVATIVE, so I MUST be against Abortion I’m SWEDISH so I MUST be a tall blond blue-eyed lesbian. I’m a LESBIAN so I MUST want to get with every single girl that I see. I like CARTOONS, so I MUST be IRRESPONSIBLE. I like READING, so I MUST be a LONER. I have my OWN spiritual ideology; therefore I MUST be WRONG or MISGUIDED. I am WICCAN, so I MUST be a SATANIST. I DISAGREE with my government, so I MUST be a TERRORIST. I am a WITCH, so I MUST be and OLD HAG and fly on a broomstick. I love YAOI, so I MUST be GAY. I DON’T CURSE, so I MUST be an outcast I like GAMES, ANIME and COMICS, so I MUST be childish I’m SWEDISH, therefore I MUST be WHITE. I SPOT GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, so I MUST be a pedantic b*****d. I’m GOTHIC, so I MUST be mean. I’m STRONG so I MUST be stupid. I’m Australian so I MUST hunt crocodiles and talk to kangaroo’s I go to RENFAIRES, so I MUST talk weird, be a loser, and not be up with the times I’m GAY so I’m after EVERY straight guy around. I don’t want a BOYFRIEND so I MUST be Lesbian. I’m NOT CHRISTIAN so I MUST just need converting. I love marching band, so I MUST be a friendless freak. I DRINK and SMOKE, so I MUST have no life. I am friends with a CUTTER, so I MUST be a CUTTER too. I cry easily, so I MUST be a wimp. I can’t help pointing out mistakes so I MUST be an over-controlling perfectionist I’m a PERFECTIONIST so I MUST check everything ten times, then burst into tears at one mistake I DON’T LIKE to talk about my personal life so I MUST be having problems I like FIRE so I must be an arsonist

[ghostysurveys-blog]

Shy Girl 1. You haven’t been in a lot of relationships. 2. People have asked you to speak up because they couldn’t hear what you were saying. 3. You get nervous when meeting new people. 4. You’re not good at talking to guys you like. 5. You have trouble making new friends. 6. With a group of friends, you are usually the one who doesn’t add much to the conversation. Total: 2

The Girl With Low Self-Esteem 1. You are not happy with your appearance. 2. You don’t think you’re good enough for any guy. 3. You don’t bother trying to get a date because you know you don’t have a chance. 4. You think people are lying when they compliment you. 5. You are not satisfied with your weight. 6. Sometimes you wish you were someone else. Total: 2

The Girl Who Is Too Obsessive 1. You like to know where your boyfriend is at all times. 3. You tell your boyfriend what he is and isn’t allowed to do. 4. Sometimes you message/text/call your boyfriend too much. 5. You’ve followed a boyfriend before because you thought he was cheating. 6. You have trouble keeping a boyfriend. Total: 1

Flirty Girl 1. You are obsessed with cute guys. 2. You have cheated or would cheat on a boyfriend. 3. You can’t be happy with just one guy. 4. You have been known to flirt a lot. 5. What your boyfriend doesn’t know won’t hurt him. 6. A lot of guys think you’re attractive. Total: 3

Confused Girl 1. Your relationship status is complicated. 2. You don’t know what kind of guy you want. 3. You’re not good at making decisions. 4. You’ve thought you were in love but really weren’t. 5. You get confused easily. 6. You are always changing your mind. Total: 4

The Needy Girl 1. You’ve been badly hurt after a breakup. 2. You depend too much on others. 3.You would do anything for a boyfriend if it meant making him happy. 4. Your boyfriend is a huge priority. 5. You can’t stand being away from your boyfriend. 6. You would accept anyone who asked you out. Total: 5

Playgirl 1. You have been in a lot of relationships. 2. You have hooked up with someone just for sex. 3. Most of your relationships weren’t serious. 4. You don’t really care if you break someone’s heart. 5. You are good at getting guys. 6. You are not a virgin. Total: 3

The Future-Seeking Girl 1. You have thought you found “the one” before. 2. You have imagined what you and your boyfriend’s kids will look like. 3. You want to get married. 4. You want kids. 5. You’d like serious long-term relationships. 6. You and a boyfriend have talked about your future together. Total: 4

The Attention-Seeking Girl 1. You love attention. 2. You have faked an illness or made a story up to get someone’s attention. 3. You love receiving gifts more than giving them. 4. You love PDA. 5. You hate it when your boyfriend pays more attention to someone else rather than you. 6. You would date someone even if you didn’t like them. Total: 3

The Dominator 1. You hate it when you don’t get your way. 2. You wear the pants in your relationship. 3. Your boyfriend would do anything for you. 4. You are spoiled or someone has called you spoiled. 5. You love to be in control of things. 6.You are usually the one to plan the things you and your boyfriend do. Total: 0

I’m SKINNY, so I MUST be anorexic. I’m EMO, so I MUST cut my wrists. I’m a NEGRO so I MUST carry a gun. I’m BLONDE, so I MUST be a ditz I’m JAMAICAN so I MUST smoke weed. I’m HAITIAN so I MUST eat cat. I’m ASIAN, so I MUST be sexy. I’m JEWISH, so I MUST be greedy. I’m GAY, so I MUST have AIDS. I’m a LESBIAN, so I MUST have a sex-tape. I’m ARAB, so I MUST be a terrorist. I SPEAK MY MIND, so I MUST be a b***h. I’m a GAY RIGHTS SUPPORTER, so I WILL go to hell. I’m a CHRISTIAN, so I MUST think gay people should go to hell. I’m RELIGIOUS, so I MUST shove my beliefs down your throat. I’m ATHEIST so I MUST hate the world. I don’t have a RELIGION, so I MUST be evil and have no morals. I’m REPUBLICAN, so I MUST not care about poor people. I’m DEMOCRAT, so I MUST not believe in being responsible. I am LIBERAL, so I MUST be gay. I’m SOUTHERN, so I MUST be white trash. I TAKE (or used to take) ANTI-DEPRESSANTS, so I MUST be crazy. I’m a GUY, so I MUST only want to get into your pants. I’m IRISH, so I MUST have a bad drinking problem. I’m INDIAN, so I MUST own a convenient store. I’m NATIVE AMERICAN, so I MUST dance around a fire screaming like a savage. I’m a CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be a whore. I’m a DANCER, So I must be stupid, stuck up, and a whore. I wear SKIRTS a lot, so I MUST be a slut. I’m a PUNK, so I MUST do drugs. I’m RICH, so I MUST be a conceited snob. I WEAR BLACK, so I MUST be a goth or emo. I’m a WHITE GIRL, so I MUST be a nagging, steal-your-money kind of girlfriend. I’m CUBAN, so I MUST spend my spare time rolling cigars. I’m NOT A VIRGIN, so I MUST be easy. I FELL IN LOVE WITH A MARRIED MAN, so I MUST be a home-wrecking whore. I’m a TEENAGE MOM, so I MUST be an irresponsible slut. I’m POLISH, so I MUST wear my socks with my sandals. I’m ITALIAN, so I must have a “big one”. I’m EGYPTIAN, so I must be a TERRORIST! I’m PRETTY, so I MUST not be a virgin. I HAVE STRAIGHT A’S, so I MUST have no social life. I DYE MY HAIR CRAZY COLORS, so I MUST be looking for attention. I DRESS IN UNUSUAL WAYS so I MUST be looking for attention. I’m INTO THEATER & ART, so I MUST be a homosexual. I’m a VEGETARIAN, so I MUST be a crazy political activist. I HAVE A BUNCH OF GUY FRIENDS, so I MUST be ******** them all. I HAVE A BUNCH OF GIRLS WHO ARE FRIENDS, so I MUST be a player. I have Big BOOBS, so I MUST be a hoe. I’m COLOMBIAN, so I MUST be a drug dealer. I WEAR WHAT I WANT, so I MUST be a poser. I’m RUSSIAN, so I MUST be cool and thats how Russians roll. I’m GERMAN, so I must be a Nazi. I hang out with GAYS, so I must be GAY TOO. im BRAZILIAN, so I MUST have a BIG BUTT. I’m PUERTO RICAN, so I MUST look good and be conceited. I’m SALVADORIAN, so I MUST be in MS 13. I’m POLISH, so I MUST be greedy. I’m HAWAIIAN so I MUST be lazy. I’m PERUVIAN, so I MUST like llamas. I’m a STONER so I MUST be going in the wrong direction. I’m a VIRGIN so I MUST be prude. I’m STRAIGHT EDGE so I must be violent. I’m a FEMALE GAMER, so I MUST be ugly. I’m BLACK so I MUST love fried chicken and kool-aid. I’m a GIRL who actually EATS LUNCH, so I MUST be fat. I’m SINGLE so I MUST be ugly. I’m a SKATER so I must do weed and steal stuff I’m a PUNK so I must only wear black and date only other punks I’m ASIAN so I must be a NERD that does HOMEWORK 24/7 I’m CHRISTIAN so I MUST hate homosexuals. I’m MIXED so I must be screwed up. I’m MUSLIM so I MUST be a terrorist. I’m in BAND, so I MUST be a dork. I’m BLACK so I MUST believe JESUS WUZ A BROTHA I’m MORMON so I MUST be perfect I’m WHITE and have black friends so I MUST think I’m black I’m GOTH so I MUST worship the devil. I’m HISPANIC, so I MUST be dirty. I’m NOT LIKE EVERYONE ELSE, so I MUST be a loser. I’m OVERWEIGHT, so I MUST have a problem with self control. I’m PREPPY, so I MUST shun those who don’t wear Abercrombie & Hollister. I’m YOUNG, so I MUST be naive. I’m MEXICAN, so I MUST have hopped the border. I GOT A CAR FOR MY BIRTHDAY, so I MUST be a spoiled brat. I’m BLACK, so I MUST love watermelon I’m BI, so I MUST think every person I see is hot. I’m an ASIAN GUY, so I MUST have a small p***s. I’m a GUY CHEERLEADER, so I MUST be gay. I’m a PREP, so I MUST be rich. I don’t like the SUN so I MUST be an albino. I have a lot of FRIENDS, so I MUST love to drink and party. I wear tight PANTS and I’m a guy, so I MUST be emo. I couldn’t hurt a FLY, So I MUST be a p***y. I support GAY RIGHTS, so I MUST fit in with everyone. I hang out with teenage drinkers and smokers, so I MUST smoke and drink too. I have ARTISTIC TALENT, so I MUST think little of those who don’t. I don’t like to be in a BIG GROUP, so I MUST be anti-social. I have a DIFFERENT sense of HUMOR, so I MUST be crazy. I tell people OFF, so I MUST be an over controlling b***h. My hair gets GREASY a lot, so I MUST have no hygiene skills. I’m DEFENSIVE, so I MUST be over controlling and a b***h. I’m a NUDIST, so I MUST want everyone to see my boobs. I read Comics, so I MUST be a loser. I hang out with a FORMER PROSTITUTE so I MUST be a whore myself. I’m TEXAN so I MUST ride a horse I’m a CROSSDRESSER, So I must be gay I draw ANIME so I MUST be a freak. I am a FANGIRL so I MUST be a crazy, obsessed stalker. I WATCH PORN so I MUST be perverted. I’m an ONLY CHILD so I MUST be spoiled. I’m INTELLIGENT so I MUST be weak I am AMERICAN so I MUST be obese, loud-mouthed and arrogant. I’m WELSH so I MUST love sheep I’m SCOTTISH so I MUST have ginger hair and wear a skirts I’m a YOUNG WRITER, so I MUST be emo. I’m CANADIAN, so I MUST talk with a funny accent. I’m a GUY, so I MUST ditch my pregnant girlfriend. I’m CANADIAN, so I MUST love hockey and beavers. I’m DISABLED, so I MUST be on Welfare. I’m a FEMINIST, so I MUST have a problem with sexuality and I want to castrate every man on the earth. I’m a TEENAGER, so I MUST have a STEREOTYPE. I WEAR A BIG SUNHAT when I go outside, so I MUST be stupid. I like BLOOD, so I must be a VAMPIRE. I’m an ALBINO, so I MUST be an evil person with mental abilities and is A MURDERER! I’m ENGLISH, so I MUST speak with either a cockney or a posh accent, love tea and cricket, and have bad teeth. I’m WHITE, so I MUST be responsible for everything going wrong on the planet: past, present, and future. I don’t like YAOI or YURI, so I must be a HOMOPHOBE I’m not the most POPULAR person in school, so I MUST be a loser I care about the ENVIRONMENT…I MUST be a tree hugging hippy I have a FAN CHARACTER, so I MUST be an annoying Mary-sue. I CHAT, I MUST be having cyber sex. I’m PAGAN so I MUST sacrifice babies and drink the blood of virgins I’m PAGAN so I MUST worship Satan I’m CONSERVATIVE, so I MUST be against Abortion I’m SWEDISH so I MUST be a tall blond blue-eyed lesbian. I’m a LESBIAN so I MUST want to get with every single girl that I see. I like CARTOONS, so I MUST be IRRESPONSIBLE. I like READING, so I MUST be a LONER. I have my OWN spiritual ideology; therefore I MUST be WRONG or MISGUIDED. I am WICCAN, so I MUST be a SATANIST. I DISAGREE with my government, so I MUST be a TERRORIST. I am a WITCH, so I MUST be and OLD HAG and fly on a broomstick. I love YAOI, so I MUST be GAY. I DON’T CURSE, so I MUST be an outcast I like GAMES, ANIME and COMICS, so I MUST be childish I’m SWEDISH, therefore I MUST be WHITE. I SPOT GRAMMATICAL ERRORS, so I MUST be a pedantic b*****d. I’m GOTHIC, so I MUST be mean. I’m STRONG so I MUST be stupid. I’m Australian so I MUST hunt crocodiles and talk to kangaroo’s I go to RENFAIRES, so I MUST talk weird, be a loser, and not be up with the times I’m GAY so I’m after EVERY straight guy around. I don’t want a BOYFRIEND so I MUST be Lesbian. I’m NOT CHRISTIAN so I MUST just need converting. I love marching band, so I MUST be a friendless freak. I DRINK and SMOKE, so I MUST have no life. I am friends with a CUTTER, so I MUST be a CUTTER too. I cry easily, so I MUST be a wimp. I can’t help pointing out mistakes so I MUST be an over-controlling perfectionist I’m a PERFECTIONIST so I MUST check everything ten times, then burst into tears at one mistake I DON’T LIKE to talk about my personal life so I MUST be having problems I like FIRE so I must be an arsonist

[hotcocosharing]

Glory Days Part 15 (IM RP AU- Shun & Midi)

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7 / 8 / 9 / 10 / 11 / 12 / 13  / 14

❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ ❥ [ SMUT ALERT ]

Shunichiro’s POV

The new mixing feelings of rage and jealousy is definitely something I am not fond of as I open the door to see Midori being cornered by another man who “accidentally” slip her surprise message of her selfie in leopard print underwear with a very seductive look that even I didn’t get to see last night.

Narrowing my eyes and pull her back into my arms, I slam the door at the scum’s face and drag Midori into the kitchen with me, it is the farthest spot from Maki and his meat of the night.

“Where have you been?” The first question actually isn’t my most concern but it comes out before I’d gathered my thoughts, “Did you know how drunk you two were?” They’re lucky it’s Toshiaki who took them home, no one’s always that lucky. “Was it because of Eriko?”

As much fun as Eriko might be, her recklessness is not going to sit well with me if Midori and I intend to stay in each other’s lives. “And was that Ryoichi Hirose? What’s he doing here? And you sent him a selfie? Wait, did you two dated or something?”

Taking a few steps, I reach to the top of the refrigerator and grab the forbidden item in hands, a bad habit that’s always around the corner and comforts me despite the countless time I’ve tried to get rid of. With the shocking face from Midori who hasn’t even had a chance to answer any of my questions, I snap at her. “Yes, I smoke Midori. Congratulations, I only smoke when I am agitated!”

Maki’s POV [ SMUT ALERT ]

Neither the exotic women on my laptop screen nor burying myself deep within this first year blonde’s thighs arouse me the way they should, escorting her almost instantly after her peak and makes a promise of calling her later that I have no intention of keeping. I head to the bathroom and avoid the kitchen a couple in cold war at all cost.

A soft clicking noise echoes within the walls of the bathroom as I shut the door. Shivering slightly as my feet touch the cold marble floor and hurry into the showers, in need to wash away my unfortunate and irritation- This cannot be happening!

I love sexy young juniors and yet the girl who totally fits my type has failed to excite and erect my manhood. Scenes from our recent encounters keep playing in my head- Eriko arching her back and moaning my name when I tasted her; the thrill of being watched by a stranger as she straddled me in the cab.

When the water warms up, I step under the stream, letting it soak my entire body in hope to make it all go away. With my eyes closed to enjoy the sensation of hot water warming up my skin, I breathed in and out slowly at the memories of our short lived intimate moments over a close friend of mine who’s not even normally into women.

Squirting a good amount of body wash onto my hand with fingers wrapping around the base of my length, and with a slow, leisurely stroke I move my hand up to the tip. “Fuck, Eriko you…played me well…” I cruse with a low groan, teasing my tip the way I imagine she would- her delicate hands and fingers stroking it, slow and steady first then a little rough later, trying to test my boundaries.

God! I would love every fucking second of it.

Leaning my head back and visualizing her perfect body hovering on top, her hot lips to my ear, whispering all the naughty stuff she wants to do to me. More noises escape my throat as my grip tightens, fantasizing myself sliding in and out of her and how tight she feels. And my hand strokes faster, up and down, until my white-hot release erupt and drips down the drain.

Damn I miss her and I definitely want her!

Eriko’s POV

After such eventful day and a hangover of a life time, skinny dipping with a half naked hottie isn’t too bad and Rikiya has topped it up with a half naughty half innocent kiss which makes me look forward to our next date.

But the next person who appears in front of my face should be less pleasing and yet, my mouth become dry with a pounding heart that I know it isn’t Rikiya’s doing. Somehow the sad look of Toshiaki is putting me on edge, tears forming at the corners of my eyes as I let out a mocking scoffs. “Hang out? I know you hate me, Kijima. Okay, I get it I’m just a rich spoiled slut on the campus that you don’t want anything to do with, I get your message loud and clear. So if you’re here for Midori or your shirt, I don’t know where she is!”

“You don’t recall what happened last night?”

“Are you making fun of me? Yes, you got us out. Thank you very much! We were drunk as hell, I got it. And I’m sorry if we caused any inconvenience, I promise I won’t contact you next time to rescue me.”

Before I’d take another step, his hands are cupping my cheeks and places his lips against mine, soon deepening into a much more passionate kiss like some kind of dream or Déjà vu, a familiar sensation with a refreshing scent that makes my knees weak. Leaning into him and melting into his kiss, I feel a tear rolling down my cheek.

“Eriko!!”

Toshiaki’s POV

A voice calls out loud from behind but I am not parting with Eriko, I don’t ever want to. But she snaps her eyes open and pushes me away, footsteps approaching and I watch the color drain from her face- the fearless, confident and witty girl has now turned into a scared little bird.

“Eriko! Who is he?”

An elderly man with grey hair and dark brown eyes stand before us frown, questioning her but staring at me with terrorizing gazes and Eriko is frozen in spot.

“Eriko, I asked who this gentleman is?”

His piercing gazes still fix on me but he grips tight on her tiny wrist after wrapping his suit jacket around her shoulder, unimpressed would be an understatement, clearly preferring her in anything other than a wet see through t-shirt.

“He’s my boyfriend….” She utters, head dropping lower and lower. “Father.”

Shinichi’s POV

Unable to wipe the grin off his face, Rikiya is still doing his victory whistle by the time he settles and sits beside me on the couch.

“How far did you go? You didn’t sleep with her, did you?”

He smirks at me and takes a sip of his beer, “No, but already seen her naked and she’s taking me out on a date next.”

What he’s said brings a chuckle out of me as I roll my eyes hard, “My turn tomorrow but what if…. she likes both of us?”

Shifting our eyes back to the television, both with a knowing smirk on our faces, we state the answer out loud in sync. “We’ll share.”

[onelastlace]

An open letter

Dear lover that almost was but wasn’t,

We were off to a good start, but we did move quickly in the beginning. It was partially my fault I will admit. I shouldn’t have kissed you that way the first or the second time. We talked and things slowed down to a manageable pace I’d believe. Kisses on the cheek and I asked every time if I could kiss and hug you. I was in a heart eyed state and couldn’t get any happier. I stayed up late because I enjoyed talking to you. No one had spoiled me with compliments and a love so sweet it could have given me cavities. You respected my boundaries knowing I couldn’t actually date. You seemed like the one person that would wait for that time to roll around. You never took advantage of that and I was so happy you were a different experience. Months went by and you were still present and showering me with admiration.

You were the first person I fully opened up to about things that happened in the past. All my regrets and mistakes that are permanently engraved in my memories. Not only did you listen, you gave back the same amount of energy. You showed me I wasn’t alone although our difficulties were different. You showed me something I think is very sacred and that moment made me want to keep you forever. Many more interesting conversations happened from then on and it was wonderful.

Then that whole situation happened. To be fairly honest, I thought I was going to lose you to circumstance. I thought everything I’d come to appreciate would be gone forever. I thought you were a liar through all of it. But then you gave another part of yourself to me and I felt guilty for being so selfish. For thinking I was the problem, but I didn’t know until you told me. Then I thought I was being annoying. I wanted to be a part of your life but I wasn’t allowed to because I couldn’t actually spend time with you.

I started to get jealous of the love you had for that girl. I felt used still. You couldn’t have her so it felt like you just settled. That’s the resolve I reached after you shut me out once again. I knew you were depressed and still in pain, but you still wanted her no matter what you said. I didn’t know how I fit into your life anymore. I always asked if we were friends but you’d never respond. You never gave me an answer to just that question. It’s all I wanted to know, was I a friend or just a naive convenience? I knew I was right from the start when I had asked you what would happen if a friend of yours had a crush on you and I was still around.

Then you got better. Conversations were still spotty and you gave me attitude all the time but I still stayed. I became bitter and depressed. I was heart broken. I was still feeling stupid for caring so much about someone and giving away so much of myself only to be rejected later. I felt like I messed up by saying anything. To expose so much of who I am and then be shunned spun everything out of control for me. You started to post about feeling used and unappreciated. About how you’d never find someone to love you or prioritize you. How you’d be alone forever.

You got even better. Found a replacement for her. But you still wanted her. You wanted both old and new. But I wasn’t either of those. Where do I fit in again? I still didn’t know. Was your intention to hurt me with every word you said? This new girl had a closer relationship with you. Fair, you all were friends prior and have the same classes and schoolwork. Fair that she was pregnant and the baby’s father wasnt worth shit. Still didn’t make me any less bitter. I wanted to not be confused. She was nice enough and she was pretty, but why did you feel the need to ask me what I thought about her.

Then you later tell me you love her. Correction: you have love for her. I try to show interest instead of acting wicked. I ask about the child, her, and how your relationship with all that will work out. You told me he’d be your nephew. You said he’d call you uncle. I knew that wasn’t true. I told you you’d fall in love with that baby “Daddy”. I knew you’d love your “son” more than anything. But I refused to be bitter towards a child who didn’t ask to be brought into this world under those circumstances. I refused to be jealous over a woman who you’re not dating or romantically involved with. But, you do things that make it difficult. You did things that made you seem like a lot of what you told me was a lie just so you could get close to me. Then you continue to vague post on media outlets that you feel rejected, lonely, and unappreciated. That clearly made me feel wonderful. I thought I was doing an alright job with what I could. I guess it wasn’t the case.

Yes, I had decided to be bitter. Yes, I thought it’d be the best option for me. It clearly wasn’t. People got hurt and I lost your trust. You said you’d no longer have my back which was a big wake-up call about my attitude. It pushed me to be aware of what I was doing and be more positive. There were several times in the course of months where I wanted to hurt myself, but I thought of how that caused my last relationship to play out. Instead, I found healthier ways to cope with stress and all the negative emotions. I became happier and more social. I found out who used to hate me but they now enjoy my presence. I’m not a bitch to them. My attitude did suck, but I’ve worked to improve upon it. I tried my hardest to not speak negatively on anyones name. Especially yours. I had done so originally out of bitterness and anger. I hold my tongue now and I dont take things too seriously.

Things were going amazingly. Although you rarely worked, I was losing my attachment to you. I was becoming a more open, wonderful person. I let your attitudes slide past me. I didn’t read into what you were doing. Nothing you could do made me upset. Then you came back. Your son was born and I could feel the negativity coming back in. You continued to talk so much about this girl and your son. I still didn’t speak on it because it wasn’t my business. I’m happy for the joy you received but the news didn’t exactly apply to me. I couldn’t understand how I could be happy for someone that has a more defined role in your life. And now there was a more apparent (pun) bond holding you two together.

More time goes by. You’re acting out on snapchat posting less about feeling lonely. You still weren’t talking to me all too often and I was actually okay with that. Then you kept sending pictures of your baby mama. Why would you do such a thing? Were you trying to show me that that’s who you wanted instead? That thats who was going to get all your time. I didn’t understand and I was hurt again. You kept posting her and showing how much you love her. I honestly didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt not enough. It felt like I failed again.

So I lost more feelings. I was just floating through life and taking whatever came at me. Life was okay I’d say.

I got permission to date and I thought you’d be all over that. Or at least a little interested. I was definitely wrong about that.

I don’t know what to say. We did those things in your car that I in no way regret. I wanted to do those things and I still want to. But it’s for the best that I hold myself back no matter how much it crosses my mind. I wanted to make you genuinely happy for once. I dont know if it worked. I didn’t want you to do the same because it would have been too intimate. I love you, but you don’t love me so that part of myself is for myself. I know it doesn’t make sense, but it’s to preserve something in myself at least. I did enjoy messing around, but it got difficult knowing that I’m going into it with feelings and it seems you’re just going into it with only hormones. I don’t know what’s on your mind. You just say it’s a lot so I don’t dig deeper. I tried not to be one of the crazy stalker girlfriends you see posted on instagram. I did fall into that trap for a little bit.

Now very recently, you’ve begun to be kinder. You’ve become more playful again. You’ve come back a little bit to what used to be. I missed what used to be. But things happened for me to keep myself guarded. What if you switch up again because you proved that you can. You proved that you have the ability to break my heart although you said you weren’t a heart breaker. Funny story, everyone I dated(ish) said that and they all left. But pettiness aside, how do i know it’s genuine? I still don’t know what you’re thinking or your plans anymore. I don’t ask because you didn’t feel the need to open up the last few months, so it’d make sense I’d lower my curiousity. You said we can’t go back to being just friends, but were we ever really?

You’re always in a good mood when you post yourself singing on snap. Strange enough, they’re love type songs or the specific set of lyrics involve being in it with someone. I could be reading too far into it because I’m still blinded by someone I used to call my favorite person. I used to love talking about how attractive and sweet you are, but now I feel like a damn fool. Actually, no I don’t. That was months ago.

I love you so much, but I don’t even know where we stand. I want to say we’re friends, but do you even see us that way? Am I just your coworker? Am I just some bitch who gave you head in the dark? Am I just one of your lil hoes you have blowing up your phone? I don’t think you’d see me in that way, but I don’t know what you think of me anymore. I didn’t move on as fast as you think because im still stuck on you. I still can see something more. If anything, you’re the one who moved on quickly and left me behind. But again, only you know what you’re thinking.

-still confused

P.S. there are many things I do love about you that make you more attractive in my eyes. I love that you’re helpful, you’re funny, you enjoy things usually considered nerdy, you sing even when you know you can’t, you stay determined and motivated, and you share with me things that most people don’t know about you. It makes me feel special, but still uncertain. Things are returning the way they were and I like that, but I'm also apprehensive. It'll take a lot more work this time. It’d be nice to continue loving you and doing so more openly but I will respect and honor whatever decision we come out to.