#like. i tried watching a new rage quit video this past week then got sad because it's paywalled

[monarchisms]

@lapingumbar thank you ^_^

it's pretty fun see the posts pop up again in my notes after not having seen them for so long. honestly, i don't remember most of the posts i make the moment i hit send sdfsadfgd

i hope the person going through my team nice dynamite tag is having a good time

[lucy90712]

cravings/mood swings (pregnancy series)

Series masterlist

George:

The hormones from pregnancy have made me an entirely different person at times which was a huge shock to both me and George when they first started to hit because I've always been pretty good with my emotions and hormones even when on my period. To me it isn't as bad because I only notice after my mood swings but poor George has to deal with me during.

George came down the stairs after filming a video and came to join me sat on the sofa. I was eating salty crisps (chips) some of which George stole as he sat down, this really set off my hormones for whatever reason and I looked at him with just pure anger that he would even dare to steal my food that I had been craving.

"George what the fuck I wanted those" I almost shouted

"I'm sorry love I didn't mean to I can get you more if you want them" he said panicked slightly

I gave no reaction to what George said as I came down from my rage because I realised I was being way too over the top. I always feel awful when I yell at George because he doesn't deserve it at all but he just happens to be around all the time so he's the one who bares the brunt of all my emotions. I apologised to George and gave him some of my crisps to make up for it and we cuddled on the sofa for a bit.

Later in the evening George was showing me cute videos he has of cat from when he was in his office which were just so adorable and made me so incredibly happy but then the sadness came over and tears started to fall down my face.

"Hey what's wrong?" George asked

"It's just so cute like how can one small animal be so cute" I sobbed

He comforted me and we spent the rest of the evening doing things that didn't provoke any emotions in me.

Dream:

My cravings have been very strong though my pregnancy so far which is a combination of normal things and weird concoctions just whatever I was feeling in that exact moment and I mean that exact moment. My cravings are things that have to be satisfied within the hour or else it's too late and I get over it.

It's about 10pm and I'm just chilling waiting for Clay to get out the shower so we can watch the office together. At that exact moment a craving for pickles came over me, its not a craving I've had before but its one that I know is kind of common. I checked all the cupboards and fridge to see if we had any but we didn't which made me quite sad.

Clay came down the stairs to see me staring at the empty cupboard with a few tears in my eyes. He came over to me looking at what I was before becoming very confused at what exactly was going through my mind clearly wondering if I was going a bit insane.

"Is everything alright?" He asked

"We don't have any pickles" I whined

"Do you want me to go and get you some?" He asked

I nodded my head and we went to the car to drive to the store to go buy pickles mainly because I didn't want to be left alone. Clay actually went into the store while I stayed in the car because he didn't want me getting cold but he soon came back with two jars of pickles just incase I wanted more another day.

Back at home I ate half the pickles in the jar and very much enjoyed it and so did baby which was the whole point of going to get them. I imagine just like every other craving I will get over it and move on to a new one.

Sapnap:

My mood swings have been insane so far during pregnancy like way morse than they would be before my period is due to arrive. I feel so awful that Sapnap has to deal with me because he used to hate it when I got so very emotional before my period and now its constant and like x1000.

I have been slightly more emotional than usual today which has just been ruining my day because I can't seem to get anything done without crying or raging at myself but I've yet to spend much time with Sapnap so he has been spared from my disastrous day so far. This soon changed when he came downstairs and sat with me on the sofa.

He attempted to cuddle with me but something in my brain told me that I didn't want that and I should be mad at him for even trying to be affectionate even though I love him so very much.

"No get off me" I said a bit too harshly

"Oh I'm sorry baby is there anything you want?" He asked trying to be accommodating

I shrugged him off still slightly angry but getting over it very quickly and feeling bad for half yelling at him. My anger soon completely dissolved and was replaced by sadness at the fact that I had yelled and now wanted to cuddle but he wasn't going to want to now right, I mean I've just yelled at him so why would he want to cuddle.

A few tears started to form in my eyes and soon spilled out onto my face wetting my cheeks which I tired to hide by facing away from Sapnap but of course he knows me and tried to see what I was hiding. As soon as he saw I was crying he put his hands on my face to wipe the tears and gave me a kiss.

"What's wrong babe? How can I fix it?" He asked

"I feel bad for yelling and I want cuddles but you don't want to give them to me because I was mean" I explained

"You are so silly of course I'll still give you cuddles if you want them" he said

He pulled me into a big bear hug where we stayed for the rest of the day and night.

Quackity:

I have been having a lot of odd cravings over the past few weeks most of which are completely unnatural and Alex thinks are gross but they actually taste really good. To me at least.

Tonight I was really feeling like eating chicken nuggets with honey, I really wanted to eat it but I was scared to ask Alex to come to the store with me because he would think it was weird and judge me which my fragile little heart couldn't take.

"Alex will you go to the store with me please?" I asked

"Of course love what do you want this time?" He asked

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I whispered

"What was that" he questioned

"Chicken nuggets and honey" I said a bit louder

"That sounds interesting lets go" he said

He grabbed my hand and pulled me up and to the car where we went to McDonald's for the chicken nuggets and then target for the honey before going back home. Alex was interested to try this combination too so the both of us sat down to try it. At first the flavour was really weird but once you got used to it it was really good actually and now I think I'm obsessed and by the looks of things so is Alex because his face looked like he had just had the best thing ever.

Karl:

Oh my has it been a rollercoaster so far, I've been so over emotional and have been craving so many different things it is so hard to keep up with for me let alone Karl.

This morning I was trying to make breakfast and I couldn't open the milk which upset me but then the bowls were up too high so I couldn't reach which made me even more upset but the last straw for this morning was when I had just sat down after struggling with everything and someone rang the doorbell just as I was about to eat the cereal I had really been wanting. I answered the door to collect the parcel the man had before going back to the living room with tears starting to slip down my face.

I'm not sure why I was so upset but I was which stopped me eating my cereal because I was crying which made me cry more because I really wanted the cereal, it was just an awful cycle. Karl walked in as I was staring at my full bowl of cereal sobbing which caused him to run over to see what was wrong.

"Hey hey whats wrong?" He asked

"Nothing is going right and all I want to do is eat my cereal but I can't because I'm crying which is making me more upset" I ranted

"Oh honey I'm sorry how about you follow my breathing to calm down and then eat your cereal ok?" He suggested

He helped me calm down enough to be able to eat my cereal which was kind of soggy by now but I still very much enjoyed it and soon got back to my normal self.

Wilbur:

My hormones are all over the place which normally I can handle but every now and then I get too overly emotional and just cry over random things, this usually happens when I'm alone so I just deal with it myself.

Today Wilbur took the day off from working so he's here to see the rollercoaster that is my day and believe me it can be a rollercoaster. I had a breakdown this morning when doing chores I was unloading the dishwasher and I kept almost dropping everything I touched which made me so mad at myself and really sad at the same time. I just left the room and sat down for a minute talking to myself to sort my brain out then went back to doing chores.

Later in the afternoon we were watching a nature documentary which we do a lot and there was this lizard and her babies that were being hunted by a large bird, I was willing them to get away but the bird caught the babies and the mother got away. This made me so sad that the lizard lost her babies while I was sat there carrying my baby. I started crying thinking about the fact that anything could happen to little bean once their here.

"It's ok love its just natures way" Wilbur said

"But what if bad things happen to bean when their here obviously not like that but anything could happen" I sniffled

"We will protect bean as best we can to stop anything bad happening but for now their safe where they are" Wilbur said

This made me feel better and luckily the rest of the documentary wasn't sad at all and there was some cute moments which made me forget about all my worries.

[annab-nana]

Bookshelf Confessions - Peter Parker

Peter and MJ are caught in the middle between a relationship and a friendship, a situationship if you will. There are definitely some feelings between the both of them, but when she overhears Peter talking to Ned about them in the library, she pulls you in to listen in with her and the conversation takes a turn you both didn’t expect.

A/N: Hi guys! So this was a late night tiktok inspiration. Here is the video I got it from and I changed the words up a bit to better fit how Peter would talk and to better describe MJ as well but anyway, I hope you enjoy! Oh also, if you guys really want it, I could do a part 2 to this but we will see :)

Part 1 of Books Tell Secrets and Lies

Warnings: some curse words

Word Count: 3.2k+

--------------------------------------------------

“Ned, I need to talk to you,” Peter whispered to the boy as he grabbed his arm and pulled him between a couple of bookshelves in the library. School had just ended, and the mop of brown curls dragged his best friend all the way to the room filled with books and resources as soon as class had been dismissed.

Though it was a library and you were supposed to be silent, the way Peter was being exceptionally quiet and almost secretive obviously caught the eye of an observant and nosy Michelle Jones. She was about to join the pair, but upon noticing that her boyfriend—if you could even call him that—seemed to try to be hiding something from her, she stopped. If Peter ever had a problem, he would round all three of you guys up to discuss it, needing all of the brilliant sound minds of his buddies to help him make a decision. So, when he was only talking to Ned without you and her included, she got a weird feeling and hung back behind the shelf next to them to eavesdrop.

You were minding your own business as you searched for a book to write your English report—which you thought was ridiculous that you already had a big assignment to complete when it was only the second week into your senior year but that was a topic for another day—and you were walking past the aisles to find where the fiction books of author’s with the last name starting with Z would be found when a hand reached out to grip your arm and tug you into a nearby aisle. You were about to protest until you saw it was only your harmless yet curious best friend. Before you could open your mouth to ask why the hell she dragged you here, her hand quickly but silently covered your mouth, prohibiting you from speaking at all. Her other hand came up to her own mouth as she placed a finger in front of her lips signaling you to be quiet. Rolling your eyes, you grabbed your phone.

Y/n: ??

She pointed towards the bookshelf and you heard the mumblings of one Peter Parker, the top of his head hard to miss when it was peering above the dusty books that lined the metal shelf.

You, MJ, Ned, and Peter made quite the friend group. Though you all were fairly different, your similarities brought you together and you loved having them by your side. What made it even better is that when MJ and Peter started their “relationship”, it didn’t mess up the dynamic at all. You all still hung out and you and Ned weren’t uncomfortable with their closeness at all, though you both did want to know if they were actually dating or not.

Since the Europe trip, they have been a lot closer. There was no denying that. You and Ned both have seen the stolen glances and holding hands under the lunch table. There was something going on there that they didn’t want to let on or they were just simply happy being together more often.

When you heard about Peter’s plan to woo MJ over the summer, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you were not a little disappointed. You were ecstatic for MJ, but your heart longed to be in her place. He had looked to you for help in making her swoon since you had been her best friend for years and while you would always help Peter no matter what, it hurt to see him in awe of another girl. Once you found out that MJ felt the same towards Peter and you knew his plan would work, you pushed those thoughts and feelings to the back of your mind, far where no one could find them. You had been a tad upset for a moment, but when you saw how happy they were, there was nothing more you could do but support them.

You still were confused as to why you both were hiding from your friends behind a bookshelf before MJ started typing furiously on her phone to text you.

MJ: peter is being hella sus and i wanna get to the bottom of it

Y/n: you little detective

MJ smirked at you as you both leaned in a little closer to hear better.

“I’ve been hanging out with MJ,” Peter started, running a hand through those beautiful chestnut curls and focusing on Ned who was smiling innocently and nodding along to the conversation. “Everybody thinks we’re dating because I spend my weekends hanging at her house and watching movies or whatever.”

“Yeah,” Ned chuckled, clueless to where the conversation was heading as were you. MJ had a deep feeling in her gut that it would lead to him telling Ned he wants to break up with her even though they were not actually together, but she wasn’t quite sure that was all he had to say.

“She’s on the decathlon team, one of the smartest people I know, and she’s could even be prom queen if she wasn’t so against it.” Both the boys lightly laughed at that as you all knew MJ too well. You had to hold back your giggle while you and MJ shared an amused look before continuing to listen in on the conversation.

“While we study chemistry, there’s a little more chemistry between us if you know what I mean,” you watched the bashful boy sputter while pink dusted his cheeks. You looked to MJ who found the floor to be much more interesting than your gaze at the moment.

‘You guys fucked? And you didn’t tell me,’ you mouthed after placing your fingers under her chin to make her look up at you. Her eyes widened and she shook her head profusely before mouthing back, ‘no, just made out a lot.’ That put your heart at ease a bit yet you still weren’t fond of it, but Peter’s next words caught the attention of you both.

“But I have a secret I must confess,” Peter sighed, eyes flitting down almost as if in shame. Your eyebrows furrowed while your puzzled expression met MJ’s worried one. Your hand reached out to grab hers and your thumb rubbed smoothly over her knuckles, a small gesture you knew provided her with much comfort and though she was trying not to show it, you knew she was getting anxious.

“It’s not her laugh or the way she’d dress. She’s not the reason I’ve been thinking about love,” he muttered with his head still down. Ned let out a light gasp at what he was hinting at and your heart broke for MJ. You tugged at her hand and tried to step forward to lead her out of the library, this conversation being one she did not need to hear, but she remained put. She gave you a sad nod as if saying ‘it’s okay y/n’, so you conceded and stayed with her for emotional support. But you knew the second she left, you would rip Peter a new one if she hadn’t done it first.

“Every weekend we hang out, I lose my cool when she’s around over stupid little things that shouldn’t even bother me,” Peter stated with a huff, angry with himself because of how he felt. If he could love MJ and not feel at war with himself and his feelings, then that is what he would do but he was growing tired of the constant battle in his head and in his heart. “And I don’t know if this is just a crush.”

So, he liked someone else for sure because that was the second time he mentioned something like that. You were growing angry with the boy and you knew that even if he possessed superhuman abilities, your rage would overpower him. Your eyes mixed with sadness and anger sought out MJ again to check on her. She was remaining closed off as always, but she had begun to open up a bit more recently and Peter’s actions were putting her back where she was.

“How do I find the words to tell her,” Peter paused, eyes darting around before meeting Ned’s, “that I’m in love with her best friend.”

You and MJ both stiffened and for some reason, you felt uncomfortable holding her hand now. You were doing it to comfort her as you always have, but you were the girl her ‘boyfriend’ was in love with. Your wide eyes remained trained on Peter and Ned as you waited for them to further confirm your suspicions.

“Y/n?” Ned gawked at his best friend. He had zero clue that Peter felt like this, but he did know you had a small crush on Peter when y’all were formulating the plan to get MJ to fall in love with him. Ned had seen the way you looked at Peter and one day, he saw the tears that brimmed your eyes before you excused yourself to the bathroom, Peter too focused on perfecting each step to see that you were distraught. Ned left as well to go ‘get something from his locker’ and he found you fanning your eyes dry and blowing some air out to calm yourself.

“You like him, don’t you?” Ned questioned as you turned around to hide your embarrassment. You were crying over Peter Parker while helping him get with your best friend. It was silly.

“Hey,” he spoke calmly as he placed a comforting hand on your shoulder. “You don’t have to hide from me. I saw the tears before you left but y/n, why are you helping him with this if you know he will end up with someone else? Doesn’t that hurt?”

“Yes, it hurts like hell but what am I supposed to do? Tell him I like him?” you spoke sarcastically but of course, he took it literally.

“Yes! That’s exactly what you should do,” he encouraged while you shook your head.

“I can’t do that to him, Ned. He is head over heels in love with MJ. Anyone with eyes can see that and though she will not let anyone know, I can tell she has a crush on him too so who am I to get in the way of that? They will be happy together and I will get over him. I will be okay, Ned,” you told him as you quickly wiped away your tears.

“Promise you’ll be okay?” Ned inquired, holding out a pinky for you to link yours with his. The childish act made you smile, and you did just that.

“I promise as long as you don’t tell him.” Ned nodded in agreement and you two unlinked pinkies. “Now I am gonna actually go to the bathroom to make sure I look fine, and I’ll be back,” you informed him before heading into the restroom.

“Yeah, Ned. I fucked up. I am going to ruin the whole group and their friendship. MJ will hate me and so will y/n for hurting MJ,” he sighed, leaning against the shelf to his right and keeping his eyes down. He felt so bad for this, but this was how he felt and he could not keep lying to MJ.

“Peter, you’re an idiot if you think they’re gonna let you ruin their friendship. They were best friends before you and they will be best friends after you too. You’re starting to sound like Flash,” Ned giggled while Peter shot him a glare, quietening him for a moment. “Sorry, but you should’ve come to this revelation back in June. Things would’ve been a lot easier.”

You had forgotten that they didn’t know you were there, and MJ was about to hear that you had been in love with her fling for a while and didn’t tell her. Again, you tried to get her to leave to spare her from hearing any more, but her feet remained planted. She was not going anywhere and if she wasn’t, you weren’t either. So, you stayed and listened beside her.

“What do you mean by that?” Peter quizzed and Ned’s eyes widened, realizing that he said too much. He let out a sigh before giving in and telling him.

“Y/n’s... kinda been in love with you since before the summer. I don’t know how much before, but she liked you when we were planning how to get MJ to fall in love with you during the Europe trip. I saw her tear up once and then I found out.”

MJ’s hand dropped from your own, her face reading shock and hurt when you looked at her. You felt like shit and you hadn’t really done anything wrong. Maybe you should have told her that you used to have a crush on Peter, but it seemed irrelevant since they were closer, and you never stood a chance so why add drama when it wasn’t needed? She took a couple of steps back before walking to leave the library, leaving you to follow.

“MJ, wait,” you called after her, but she was long gone. Tears filled your eyes as you watched your best friend storm away through the hall where you stood from the library’s entrance. You could have followed her further, but you knew MJ and you knew she’d rather be alone right now.

“Y/n...” you heard the faint voice of Peter whisper from behind you, a warm hand clasping over your shoulder as you turned to look at his freckled face. Under any other circumstances, you would’ve been thrilled to hear that Peter had liked you back, but your best friend’s heart was broken by him because of you as well and you just wanted it all to be fixed.

“You really had to tell him. I promised you I’d be okay if you didn’t tell him,” you spoke to Ned, choosing to ignore Peter’s presence in front of you for the moment.

“I’m sorry. It slipped and I couldn’t get out of it. I didn’t know you guys were right there.” He was right. It was not completely his fault. You two were invading on their privacy. You can’t help what you hear.

“Y/n,” Peter repeated, and your tear-brimmed eyes snapped to his honey brown ones.

“What?” You did not mean to come off angry, but you were aggravated to say the least.

“Are you okay?” he asked genuinely. The softness of his voice and eyes were pulling you in but you were so irritated with him at the same time.

“No,” you whispered, breaking your promise to Ned as he did to you. Peter stepped forward to hug you but your hand on his chest stopped him. “You can’t comfort me anymore. Do you realize what you have done? You have broken MJ’s heart, a heart I didn’t know was capable of breaking. If she sees us hugging, that will just drive the knife in deeper. You hurt me by dragging me into the middle of all this and because I didn’t tell her that I liked you, she probably hates me too.”

Saying that last little bit broke your heart. Your best friend probably hated you. Your crush liked you back, but you could not be with him which was more infuriating than longing for him from afar. You felt angry, upset, and exposed as your biggest secret was out. All the emotions whirled within you and you did let a few tears fall.

“Y/n, I’m sorry. This was not my intention nor how I wanted this to go at all. I’m so sorry,” he softly spoke before trying to hug you again as he desperately wanted to comfort you. He hated to see you upset. This time, you let him. You let your arms circle his waist and your head cry into his chest. You let him wrap his arms around your neck and press his lips to your head, something he had always done when trying to calm you down. You felt like you would have no friends left if you pushed Peter away so why do it? The reason why you should have spoke up and broke you two apart in an instant.

“Wow,” she muttered, saddened brown eyes dancing between you and Peter. “I came back because I wanted to talk this out before I stayed in my room and was left alone in my head, but you know what? I don’t really feel like talking anymore.”

“No! MJ, wait! Please!” you tried to stop her but her cold eyes and raised hand warned you to give it a rest.

“I’ll let you know when I’m ready to talk but until then leave me the hell alone.” And with that, her head of unruly brown crinkles and curls left the building of Midtown for the weekend.

The interaction made you feel even worse as a sob bubbled up your throat. You had never been like this with MJ, and you were scared you were going to lose her forever. Your hand flew to your mouth in an attempt to muffle the sound of you crying and Peter was quick to wrap his arms around you again, but now, you shoved him away.

“No, Peter! Can’t you see what this has done? We can’t be together. I don’t want to see you until MJ and I are on good terms and maybe not even then. I just...” you backed away towards the door, “I need to be alone. Ned, I’ll text you later.”

Ned nodded at you with a sad smile and held his pinky up toward you, his silent way of asking if you were okay similar to the promise you two had made months ago. While the action caused your lips to turn upwards only slightly, you shook your head to answer the question. He understood and he and Peter both watched you leave as well.

“Well, I guess I was wrong. You can come between their friendship,” Ned spoke up, trying to lighten the mood with a joke that was way too soon for Peter to enjoy if he ever would.

“Ned, not now. I’ve accidentally broken two girls’ hearts and they both happened to be my best friends. I feel like shit,” he groaned, rubbing a frustrated hand down his face. “I’m just gonna go on patrol to distract myself and then swing home.”

“Okay well, I’m gonna bring this to y/n and check on her before going home. I’d check on MJ too, but she scares me so I’ll just text or call her later,” Ned chuckled while holding up a copy of The Book Thief, the exact book you were hunting prior to the whole fiasco. “But you need to figure out what to do. You can’t ruin their friendship. I understand if they don’t want to be friends with us, but you can’t tear them apart.”

“I know, I know. I really fucked up,” Peter huffed while stuffing his hands into his pockets. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do but I’m going to fix this.”

“You better,” Ned stated before he left the school himself. Now all of his friends had left and were angry with him in different ways. He crushed MJ’s heart and then he crushed yours even more by unintentionally making your best friend hate you. Ned was more disappointed than angry, and he felt bad himself for spilling your secret. This whole thing was a huge mess that Peter had to fix to bring his favorite people back together and he was beginning to wish he had just kept his mouth shut in the first place.

Part 2: A Chemical Aquaintance ->

--------------------------------------------------

tag list: @rebelemilu @starrybrock @mxltifandoms06 @mendesblurb @dpaccione @msgorillagripcoochie @vintageobx @ilovejjmaybank @bibliophilewednesday @marjorie189 @sovereignparker @drewstarkeysbitchh

click here to be added to the taglist

[honeyhan-123]

The Monster In Plain Sight ~ II

Series Summary: Steve’s been slowly biding his time, playing the role of the perfect Captain America, but now he’s sick of playing and he’s going to take what he wants.

Chapter Summary: You awaken to a little surprise... 

Warnings:Dark!Steve, explicit mentions of rape, male masturbation, porn, Steve being creepy. 

Word Count: 2.7k

AN: Sorry it took me so long but enjoy this lovely new banner/moodboard <3

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist 

Despite his late night rendezvous, Steve Rogers was up with the sun, just like usual. He knew he still had plenty of time before you would awake and so he started his normal morning routine, with only a slight tweak. Instead of heading to the shower where he usually imagined your body underneath his as he fisted his raging hard cock, he lay in bed, pulling out the camera from his bedside table. 

His fist glided up down his cock as he played the video back. You had felt so good last night and watching the video just made him want you even more. He couldn’t wait until you were completely his, at his mercy. But most of all, he couldn’t wait until you were awake while he took you. He wondered if you would fight back like the others had, or if you would just yield to him like the sweet little submissive he would train you to be. 

He rarely got the chance to take someone while they were awake, it was far too dangerous and while he did have friends in high places and he knew that any claims would just get swept aside, if too many claims came up people would start to talk and he wanted to avoid that at all costs if he could. 

When he finally came all over his stomach it was to the vision clouding his mind of you, down on your knees, mouth wide open as you jerked him off. In his vision his cum coated your face, some of it dripping down to your chest and like the good girl you are, you swept some of it up with your fingers before licking them clean. ‘Thank you Steve.’

He showered and dressed quickly after that. On his way out of the apartment complex he stopped by your room, letting himself in with the key he had snagged from the landlord weeks ago. Your body had barely moved from when he had said goodbye, your nipples still pebbled from the cool air and a mess slowly seeping out of your cunt. 

He could feel himself harden again as he fixated on his dried cum coating your pussy lips. He hoped it took, but if not there was always next time. 

Steve had to physically force himself out of your room because he knew if he stayed he would take you again and you would probably wake up while he was inside you, which would ruin everything. He had to play this smart if he wanted it to work. So instead, he blew you a kiss from the doorway before heading out for his daily run, more eager than ever to return. 

+

You awoke slowly, a soft smile drifting across your lips as you remembered the dream. It had been more vivid than most, in fact, you could almost have sworn it was real. They were happening more and more often recently. Ever since he moved in next door. The living Adonios. 

You couldn’t help it. Not really. Not when he looked like that. You blamed the most recent one on dinner the night before. He had seemed so sad at the prospect of eating alone and so you had offered to cook for him. The smile that had graced his face had completely eased you of any anxiety at inviting a stranger into your home. 

When your eyes finally opened, the warm contentment turned to ice in your veins. 

Your body jolted up and you grimaced as you felt a pang between your legs. Where your sleep clothes had once been, there was nothing but naked skin. The ice in your veins turned to shards when you dipped a hand down, in between your legs. You didn’t have to be able to see it to know what it was. 

You didn’t make it to the bathroom in time. 

Instead you emptied what little was left in your stomach into the waste paper basket by your bedside table. You couldn’t think of anything as you lay on the floor, heave after heave convulsing through your body. 

You didn’t know when they started but tears were freely flowing down your cheeks and sobs joined the dry heaves. How had this happened? How could this have possibly happened? What had happened?

You almost didn’t hear the knock over the noise but then you heard his voice call out. ‘Y/N? You there? Is everything okay?’ Your unease lifted slightly and you scrambled to cover yourself with a dressing gown. If anyone could help you it was him. Captain America. 

A part of you didn’t want to face him, you didn’t want to face anyone. Not like this. But you knew that you should. He was a good guy and he’d be able to help. You chanted that mantra over and over again as you approached the door, wincing with every step.

You were just about to unlock the door when a flash of your dream came back to you. His godlike face twisted in pleasure as he rutted into you. It raised bile in your throat and you had to force yourself to swallow it back down. 

You were being ridiculous. You knew you were. Yet you still couldn’t quite bring yourself to open the door. 

‘Y/N? I’m starting to get worried, is everything okay?’ Concern laced his voice and you knew he was just trying to be friendly yet still you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door. Instead you tried to find your own voice.

‘No… Steve. It’s not.’ You barely managed to choke the words out but you knew he heard you. 

‘Let me in Doll. Let me help you.’ His voice was earnest but still you shook your head.

‘I can’t.’ The words were whispered against the wood. ‘I just… I can’t even think about it.’ 

‘Doll, you’re really worrying me. Let me in and I’ll help you, I promise.’ Steve’s voice pleaded at you through the door and a part of you longed to open it for him. 

‘I’m not decent…’ Even you could tell how feeble your excuse was and it seemed like Steve had had enough.

‘Doll… Open the door or I’ll break it down. I’m really concerned.’ Despite the threat, you knew he was just trying to help you and the thought of not having a door anymore sent a chill down your spine. Not that the door had helped much last night… ‘You have until the count of three. One… Two…’

The door creaked open before Steve could get to three and he relished in the sight before him. 

You had your arms wrapped around yourself, as though you thought you could physically hold yourself together and there were dried tear tracks down both your cheeks. Steve had to hide his glee at seeing you so defeated. Now wasn’t the time for gloating, it was the time for comforting. 

‘Oh Doll… What on earth happened to you?’ Your eyes were locked on the floor, refusing to meet his as he searched your face. You even recoiled as Steve reached out to cup your chin in his hand. ‘Doll? I need to know what happened.’ Steve tried to make his tone firm yet still comforting, wanting you to feel safe with him. 

‘I… Well…’ Steve could tell your words were failing you and now wasn’t the time to push but he so longed to hear you admit it. 

‘Doll?’ There was silence for a beat as you thought.

‘My apartment… it was broken into last night.’ 

‘Oh Doll, I’m so sorry. What did they steal?’

‘I-nothing. At least I think…’ You slowly drifted off, your eyes quickly darting around the small main room.

‘Oh, well then what’d they do? Did you wake up?’

‘No… I only just woke up…’ Your vague answers were starting to annoy Steve. He just wanted to hear you say it. 

‘Doll, what aren’t you telling me? I’m trying to help you but I can’t do that if I don’t have all the facts.’ 

‘No I don’t - I don’t want your help. I’ll just call the cops or something.’  

‘Doll,’ he gripped your chin, forcing you to look up at him. ‘I’m an Avenger. I’m here to help. I’ll be far more useful to you than those pigs. I mean… Do you really think they’ll help someone like you? We both know how useless they are and how little they care about anyone but themselves.’ Steve was careful with his word choice. He didn’t want to seem too eager but he also needed to persuade you to confide in him. 

‘Plus, the Avengers have far more resources than the NYPD could even dream of. I want to help you and I want to put your fears at ease.’ Steve could almost hear the argument raging in your head. He knew how little you cared for the city’s cops due to past experiences and was gratified when you seemed to come to a decision. 

‘Okay, but… Well, it’s not really an Avenger level threat.’

‘I assumed as much Doll. But don’t worry. I’m your friend first and Captain America second. I wont tell the others.’ Looking into his cerulean blue eyes you could see nothing but earnestness and maybe a little excitement at the thought of helping you and so you made up your mind. No matter how embarrassing it was, you would feel better with him helping than some random cop. So you gave a little nod at your ascent which was met by America’s most charming smile.

‘So what happened?’

‘Well… Like I said. My apartment was broken into last night.’ Your eyes were locked on your fingers as you spoke. Not wanting to have to say any more. 

‘But they didn’t take anything?’

‘No. I’m pretty sure they didn’t.’ 

‘So what happened?’ You took a deep breath, trying to prepare yourself for saying it outloud. 

‘I… they… When I woke up…’ Your words seemed to be failing you but Steve was determined to wait it out. He was determined to hear you say it. ‘I don’t know how it happened but… they… I was… I was violated.’ 

‘Violated like…?’ Steve let his question hand in the air.

‘Sexually. They raped me.’

‘They raped you?’ Steve repeated your words back to you as if double checking that he had heard right. You couldn’t help the flinch as if his words alone could physically hurt you but you nodded your head. ‘How?’

Despite yourself you shot him an exasperated look. ‘How do you think? They broke in and they fucked me while - while I was… while I was asleep.’

‘And you didn’t realise?

‘No… At least not really…’ You blanched at your admission, inwardly begging he wouldn’t ask what you meant. But obviously whoever out there didn’t care about what you wanted. 

‘What do you mean?’ 

‘It doesn’t matter.’ You tried to shrug off his question but his eyebrows rose and he locked you in with an unyielding stare. ‘Well… I didn’t notice… at least subconsciously. I had a dream.’ 

‘A dream?’

‘Yes a dream. But it doesn’t matter like I said.’ Your cheeks flushed with heat at the mere mention of it.

‘And it was sexual?

‘Yes.’

‘Who was it with?’

‘Excuse me?’ 

‘You might have subconsciously picked up things about your attacker in your dream. It’ll help us narrow the search.’ Steve seemed to sense his misstep and quickly tried to justify it. 

‘No. It wasn’t him so it won’t help.’ Steve opened his mouth as if to argue but you steeled yourself with a glare and said in the firmest tone you could manage, ‘it won’t help.’

Steve seemed to sense your resolve and dropped the topic, instead focusing on what had happened. ‘So I guess it happened in your bedroom?’ You nodded and followed him as he crossed the room. ‘So obviously since you were asleep you didn’t really notice anything but what makes you so certain something happened?’ 

You couldn’t believe he was seriously asking you that. ‘I know something happened because… well when I woke up I could tell and there was… stuff.’ You couldn’t bring yourself to call it what it was. 

‘Stuff?’

‘Bodily stuff.’ You urged him to understand and thankfully he did. His mouth dropped into a little ‘oh’. 

You watched as Steve walked around your room, occasionally pausing here or there to pick something up and examine it. He didn’t stop until he got to your pillow. 

‘Have you seen this?’ He held out a little piece of paper in his hand and you shook your head.  ‘Thank you so much for last night baby. I can’t wait to see you again.’ You shuddered as he read it aloud. ‘Have you seen the handwriting before?’ 

You shook your head as you stared down at the paper. It was completely unfamiliar. ‘That’s okay, I’ll take it to the lab and see if we can get a handwriting match or any fingerprints. But I think perhaps you shouldn’t be staying here anymore. Do you have some friends or family in the city?’ 

‘Uh no not really. All my family is interstate and I’m pretty new to the city.’ 

‘It’s no matter. Honestly probably for the best. The Avengers have a series of safe houses, the highest possible security and protection. Maybe you should stay at one of those.’ 

‘Are you sure that’s really necessary?’ 

‘Do you want him to come back?’ 

‘Of course not.’

‘Then yes I’m sure it’s really necessary. We have one upstate, close to the compound that I think will work nicely. Why don’t you pack a bag?’ 

+

You packed like a machine, barley even pausing to think. There was no rhyme or reason as to what you were placing in the small weekend bag, anything you could get your hands on. You shoved in a pair of bathers along with your thermals used for snow and then an old hiking shirt.

Steve had left very briefly to make some phone calls and pack a bag of his own but you barely noticed when he returned, a small red bag in his hand. You watched confused as he handed you a little glass tube, a Q-tip inside. 

‘Here, I found this in my first-aid kit. I figured you would want to do a test.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘It’s for DNA. I’ll take it to the lab and we’ll see if we can find a match in the system. So if you could allow me to just…’ You quickly caught on as a blush coated Steves cheeks while the blood drained from your own. 

‘I can do it.’ 

‘We can’t let the chain of evidence be in question. If it’s called up in court…’ You shook your head vehemently. 

‘Please Steve. I mean, the evidence is already on me. It’s hardly breaking the chain of evidence.’ 

Steve sighed but nodded you away towards the bathroom and you scrambled away. Your hands shook as you swiped the Q-tip along your folds, trying to get as much DNA as you could on the little head. Revulsion wrecked through you as you decidedly fixed your gaze on the hot water tap on your sink. You analysed how the rust had crept up the side of the handle instead of thinking about what you were doing. 

When you were finished you headed back into the bedroom where Steve stood waiting with a glass of water in his hand. 

‘The drive should only be a couple of hours and I can drop that off at the compound once you’re at the safe house.’ You nodded and made for your bag, hitching it up over your shoulder. 

‘I’m not sure if you’ve thought about it much, but I imagine you probably want to take this.’ He handed a little white pill out to you along with the glass of water. ‘It’s a morning after pill, they come with the rape kit.’ 

‘Shit, yeah. I hadn’t even thought about that. Fuck that’ll be awful wouldn’t it? Just my luck too.’ You threw the pill back in one swallow and smiled graciously at Steve, not quite realising just how forced his smile had now become. 

‘C’mon, let’s get out of here.’ Steve pulled your bag from your shoulder and left the room. 

You cast a small once over of the bedroom one last time, not noticing the little Tylenol wrapper in your waste paper bin. 

+

Tags will be added in a reblog

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist

[shutterbug5269]

Piano In The Dark

Kate Beckett woke in the middle of the night and reached across the bed for Castle, but he wasn't there. For a brief moment, her old insecurities flared, worried that it was something she did or said during their lovemaking earlier, but those traitorous thoughts soon gave way to more practical possibilities.

She dragged herself out of bed and slid one of his shirts over the camisole and boy shorts she had slipped into before falling asleep. She opened the door leading into his office, thinking he must have gotten up to write. She hoped he was, this case had been a truly dark and nasty one and he had done little of that in the last two weeks.

She saw immediately that he had tried. His laptop was sitting at an odd angle on his desk, still on. His "You really should be writing" screen saver scrolling endlessly. When she brushed the touch pad it was on a blank document. She was about to wonder how long he had sat there staring at a blank screen when she heard it. The soft, almost mournful notes of a piano. It wasn't a recording, and she couldn't recognize the tune, but it was so quiet and sad it was almost beautiful.

She had walked past the baby grand piano in the living room many times, but figured it was Martha's. She didn't even know Rick could play, one of many things she was learning about this complicated, sensitive man she adored. She watched him as he sat in the dark, playing this sad mournful ballad with only a single candle to guide his fingers across the keys. She could see his tears reflected in the candle's dim glow and it tore her heart in two.

She wanted to rush to his side, kiss him, and brush his tears away, but she stood, transfixed as if caught in the spell of the mournful notes he was playing which tore at her in a way that nothing else could. So she stood there leaning on the doorway, tears falling from her own closed eyes at the as the notes from the piano washed over her.

For the past two weeks, they had been working quite likely the most heart wrenching case the two of them had ever investigated together. The type of case she always dreaded, that no homicide detective with a soul ever wanted to have cross their desk. There had been eight victims in all, young girls all between the ages of eight and twelve. Murdered and left in dumpsters.

She had tried to get him to stay home and sit this one out, but he refused. He had told her that if she was in this, then so was he. There was no question of his involvement after victim number three. Melissa Davies, age ten, was a pretty little redhead with pale blue eyes. That was all it took set him inexorably into "Daddy" mode. He wasn't going anywhere after that.

He called Alexis every night during the case, glad she wasn't interning at the morgue this semester. After her kidnapping she was taking it easy. He would drive out to her dorm to visit her, hug her fiercely and look under her bed for monsters whenever a new body dropped in the case though. She was sure he saw his baby girl in every one of their little faces and it broke her heart every time she saw him.

For two weeks, as the body count slowly rose with no new leads, she watched him die a little bit more inside at every crime scene. Gone were his wild theories and his stories to make the evidence make sense, he had even forgotten to bring her coffee once or twice. He just sat in his chair by her desk reading evidence reports and staring at the murder board as the life slowly drained out of his soul.

When they finally caught the man responsible, Reginald Jacobs, there was no fist pumping, no outward show of victory from her normally expressive partner. The man had been caught red handed on a surveillance video camera dumping victim number eight, Veronica Miles, age eleven into the dumpster behind New Amsterdam Bank and Trust.

He confessed to all of the murders without much prompting, almost like he'd wanted to be caught and punished, even waived his right to counsel. As she took down his confession and gave it back to him to sign Rick had been strangely silent, like he had no heart for this anymore. When  she called LT in to take charge of the prisoner for processing, Rick spoke only one word to the man.

"Why?"

To which the man answered, "They were simply too beautiful to live in this world."

To her credit, Kate had seen the rage building in Rick's eyes and body language the moment the words left Reginald Jacobs' mouth and had LT hustle the man out of the interrogation room before Rick lost it.

He flipped the table, kicked all of the chairs over and she seriously wondered if he was going to do actual property damage before she saw his eyes land on the scattered crime scene photos of all eight girls on the floor, dropped to his knees and inexplicably burst into tears. The first real show of emotion she had seen on his face in over a week.

He slowly, almost tenderly picked up every photo, as if committing all of their names and faces to memory, taking great care to make sure they were undamaged and right side up before slipping them back into the file folder and almost reverently giving it to her with shaking hands.

He was halfway through quietly picking up the interrogation room, when Captain Gates appeared at the door, a look bordering almost on sympathy for the man. Kate had forgotten briefly that they had that one single thing in common. They were both parents. The Captain had softened a bit toward him since Alexis' kidnapping.

"Please take Mr. Castle home, Detective Beckett. I don't want to see either of you for at least a week."

That was Thursday afternoon.

They had taken the long way back to the loft to stop at her apartment to collect the bag she always kept packed for unexpected long stays at the loft. She kept pajamas at his place and a change of work clothes, but not much in the way of casual wear...yet.

They took a longer detour to swing out to Columbia. Kate had a feeling he would want to hug his daughter now that this case was finally over. She hadn't realized how much she had needed it too, until Alexis disengaged from her father and wrapped her slender arms around her waist. She hugged Alexis tightly, not realizing she had begun to cry until Castle pulled them both in and had wiped the tears from her cheeks with his thumb.

They had made love when they got back to the loft, but there was little passion in it, for either of them. More of a desperate need to feel alive after the last two weeks had nearly crushed them both. The case had trampled Castle's spirit, his anguish and pain had nearly broken hers. To feel something other than the soul crushing sadness that had enveloped them.

Which brought them back to this moment. The music had stopped. When she looked up, he was gently closing the cover over the keys and running a finger across it as he sat on the bench looking down at his hands. With the music's spell broken she crossed the short distance to the piano and sat at the bench beside him. She pulled his head to her breast and stroked his hair.

"That was beautiful, I didn't know you could play." she whispered.

"Mother began to teach me when I was four." Castle replied quietly. "When she couldn't get a part in a show, she would make ends meet by giving private piano lessons."

Kate had forgotten that the Rodgers family hadn't always been wealthy, that Martha had had to raise a son by herself in the 1970's when such things were not looked upon with as much tolerance as they are now. Now that she thought on it, it made sense why Alexis had been encouraged to take up an instrument, to have the gift of music to fall back on when she needed it.

"One summer we actually lived on an estate in the Hamptons when mother was tutoring their daughter. It was why I bought a house there when I could afford it. I think mom wanted me to follow in her footsteps, but then I discovered writing."

"Your father." Kate whispered, remembering his story about the book he'd gotten in the mail the day he returned from Paris with Alexis.

"Yeah." Rick replied, "Though I did make some extra money in college playing in some of the upscale bars. That is until “In A Hail Of Bullets” hit the bestseller list. I haven't played in years."

"Why now?" Kate couldn't help but ask.

"I tried to write, but the words just wouldn't come. I think I stared at my laptop for over an hour, before I came out here, poured myself a glass of scotch and poked at the keys. It all just came flooding out of me. I had forgotten how much it helped to do that until now."

"Come on, Rick, lets go back to bed." Kate said, tugging him off the piano bench, "We can thank your mother for the many gifts she gave you in the morning."

Rick blew out the candle on the piano and followed her back to bed. Glad that neither he, nor Kate would have to grieve for the victims alone.

They had each other.

[rainbowdonkee]

With 2019 coming to an end, I wanted to make a list of my personal top 10 video games that came out this decade. I was 12 in 2010, and now being 21 video games have always been important to me! Many of the games that are the most dearest to me sadly came out before 2010 (HG/SS barely made the cut with the NA release). I tried to not make recent releases be part of my bias (FE3H lol), plus there were many games such as Bioshock 2, Fallout New Vegas, DA2, ACNL, and many more that I love but this list would have been too long! 

1. Dark Souls (2011)

2. The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild (2017)

3. Pokemon HeartGold/SoulSilver (NA 2010)

4. NieR Automata (2017)

5. Final Fantasy XV (2016)

6. Bloodborne (2015)

7. Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (2017)

8. Astral Chain (2019)

9. Granblue Fantasy (2014)

10. Deemo (2013)

Dark Souls: Although I haven’t really completed the game personally, I’ve seen many playthroughs and videos about the story and characters. Hidetaka Miyazaki is absolutely awesome in creating those fantasy worlds and characters, everything that Dark Souls ended up influencing was pretty groundbreaking. And the OST is always enjoyable to hear again.

Breath of the Wild: This game took quite a long time for Nintendo to release, and when it finally came out on the final year of the WiiU and the birth of the Switch... it was pretty emotional. Also to realize that Iwata-san never made it to see the rise of Nintendo’s success after the failure of the WiiU gets me everytime, but I hope he sees all the smiles and joy BOTW has brought since its release. The game changed not only what is a LOTZ game but what is an open world, I’ve played it twice and each time I picked it up was a new experience.

Pokemon HG/SS: This game was released around Fall 2009 in Japan, but for NA it was out in March 2010. I still remember the anticipation for Spring Break to arrive in order to spend all my week playing it! I never had the chance to play the original Gold/Silver, so everything was new to me. My 12 year old mind almost exploded when I ended up finishing the Johto League only to find out we were ALSO traveling to Kanto!!! I was shook! This game is amazing, and I’ll forever wait for them to somehow add our Pokemons following us around, that mechanic was so cute! And of course the OST is golden, and I can always listen to it and be brought back to those days.

NieR Automata: I never played any of the past NieR games (although I was aware of their existence). The first trailer I ever watched had the “Become as Gods” song so I was hooked from the start! And learning that PlatinumGames and Square Enix both developed the game made me hyped for its release. I love everything about it, the characters, story, music, themes. By the time I finished the game, it had brought me into a journey of questioning so many heavy topics about life...I really wasn’t expecting that about a game. Not going to lie it may or may not have brought me a mini existential crisis but with a game made my Yoko Taro can’t be too surprised.

Final Fantasy XV: The game I so often heard fabled tales since as back as 2009 and the hype was just building up for this game! I remember going to the movie theater when they were having special screenings for the Kingsglaive movie (I dragged my friend, little brother, and mom lol). The game went through so much, many cuts and changes were made but I personally ended up liking what we got. Still super sad that many unreleased DLC’s were cut off, but the love I have for the characters and music will always stay.

Bloodborne: Hey another Miyazaki game, what can you say...the man just makes brilliant games. He took everything I love about gothic, victorian era, and Lovecraftian esque and made this extraordinary game. I’m here hoping that maybe this 2020 we can hear a slither of news of Bloodborne 2, the theme for this game is too good for them to leave it as only one game.

Fire Emblem Echoes SoV: After the train wreck that was Fates, I literally was not expecting for us to get another FE title so soon! Japan waited 2 years for Echoes but thanks to localization giving us Fates in 2016, we got SoV a year later. I never heard of Fire Emblem Gaiden, before this game I never played any of the Japan only FE games, so when news was coming out about this title I tried 100% to AVOID it. Why? Because this was the first time I could start a FE game without personally knowing anything about it, and when I first played it, right from the start it felt so different, it didn’t felt like a Fire Emblem game (which isn’t bad at all). With the new art direction it also felt like a whole new world, I love Hidari and I hope we get to see them more in future FE games. The game had a simple plot which I didn’t held it against them, I knew this was a remake, and personally I’m glad they didn’t added things like an Avatar or S-Supports. They stayed true to its original source, and SoV will stay as my personal favorite FE game. Also Heritors of Arcadia will be the best vocal theme we got in FE series.

Astral Chain: Oh snap another PlatinumGames IP? This developers are just too good! Astral Chain came out of nowhere although I’ve heard it was worked on for a long time, supposedly even before NieR Automata was developed. I really enjoyed the game very much, from all the 2019 games that came out it caught my eye and I went in with not too many expectations but I had a good time. The story took a crazy turn and I could see some similar themes as NieR Automata but it held its own ground to become unique. The fighting mechanics were so much fun to play and the music was also awesome! I wish more people talked about this game since it is Nintendo’s new IP. I hope we can get the twins for Smash Ultimate!

Granblue Fantasy: I first new anything about Cygames back in 2016 when I saw the OP for Rage of Bahamut. After Seeing the OP for season 2, seeing Azazel in all his glory I knew I had to watch the anime! Luckilly Rage of Bahamut season 2 was continuing in 2017 so I was able to catch up just in time for its final 10 episodes. I LOVE Azazel and Kaisar and of course ROB Lucifer! Then to my surprise I found out about GBF, and I was dumb and thought the app was unavailable in the west which is technically true since you need a Japanese account to download the app which has an ENG text option. So it wasn’t until 2018 that I downloaded the game and started my journey through the sky. This gacha game literally changed what is a gacha game to me, the developers listen to fans, the community is fun, and just everything about this franchise is so great. I’m not a hardcore player so I’m not too worry about grids, I’m here for the cute husbands. (Lancelot, Sandalphon, Albert, Grimnir I lov u).

Deemo: I love this game, one of the best app games I’ve ever had. Back in the day I used to play TapTap Revenge and that was my first taste of rhythm games, Deemo brought me back to those types of apps. Whenever I was anxious I could always play this game and pass the time while keeping my mind busy. Plus without Deemo I would have never known artist’s such as Mili. The game is on the Switch which I’m so happy because I was able to just get all the songs without flooding my tablets storage space.

[favefandomimagines]

Secrets Out (t.h.)

Summary: you and Tom have been dating since Civil War and people have been shipping him and zendaya nonstop (even worse than before) it’s put you in a bad place with Tom, so much so, you didn’t tell him you were going to be in a huge movie until Jimmy Kimmel announces it.

It was no secret that you were not a fan of the constant shipping between your boyfriend, Tom Holland, and Zendaya. You knew it was all in good fun but when you see a news video on YouTube about them secretly dating, it gets on your nerves.

Tom has been preoccupied lately with press for Far From Home and you were so proud of him, but that included him being with Zendaya more than you. Hell, you were in the movie too and you don’t spend nearly as much time together as those two do.

Which is why you forgot to tell Tom about landing a role in the movie revival of Bonnie and Clyde. And you were very excited and grateful because you were cast as the lead role and that doesn’t happen everyday. You were going to tell him but he was only home for about five minutes and you were in the shower.

Jimmy Kimmel would be the first time you’ve been together longer than five minutes, in the past week. Were you going to be petty? Yes. You were jealous and felt under appreciated and unloved so of course you were going to be petty.

“So, Y/N, it’s obvious you are an incredible actress,” Jimmy started, switching the conversation to you. “Thank you, Jimmy.” You said with a gracious smile. “And that leads me to the announcement that you’re going to be in the newest interpretation of Bonnie Clyde.” He said.

The audience cheered and Jake, Jacob, Cobie and Zendaya gave you words of praise and were very happy for you. Tom on the other hand was completely blindsided by the news. ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ He thought.

“Yes I am! I’m playing Bonnie and my friend Cody Christian is going to be Clyde and Martin Scorsese is directing and I am so so excited. Especially to be somewhat new in this industry, to work with a director as amazing as Martin Scorsese is a huge dream. I’ve been asking Zendaya to pinch me for the past week because it doesn’t seem real.” You explained.

Zendaya smiled at you as she gave you a small hug.

“And you and Cody are going to have to play a couple with tons of chemistry so it helps that you’re friends.” Jimmy added. “It does help, yeah. Especially since we’ve worked together on All American.” You said. “With the director and the writers, it’s quite possible this could do well during awards season.” Jimmy pointed out. ��That’s what we’re hoping. And we just want to put a new, modern spin on such an infamous true story.” You replied.

“If anyone is going to win an Oscar, it’s Y/N.” Zendaya interjected. She was genuinely happy for you and you two were always close friends. She knew you were hurting over all of this Tomdaya stuff so she was trying to make you feel better.

You smiled back at her, happy someone you loved was acknowledging what you did.

“Well, congratulations and I can’t wait to see it when it comes out.” Jimmy told you.

The show was over and you were on your way back to your house. Though Tom wasn’t with you because he decided to go out with Zendaya and Jacob.

Your blood was boiling that you just landed a huge role in a movie that could potentially be nominated for an Oscar and he couldn’t care less.

Arriving home, Tessa greeted you and followed you to your shared room with Tom. You quickly changed your clothes but you were still livid with your boyfriend for giving you the impression that he didn’t care about you or your accomplishments.

You had this huge problem of rage crying when you got too worked up. And that’s exactly what happened once you sat down on the edge of your bed.

As you were violently sobbing in your bedroom, you heard the doorbell ring. You wiped your eyes and made your way back downstairs, Tessa still in tow.

You opened the door and Zendaya stood on your front porch with pillows, blankets, movies and ice cream in hand.

“I thought you were going out?” You asked. “You could use some girl time. Plus, Tom is pissing me off with how he’s been treating you.” She answered. You smiled sadly at her as you let her inside.

After a couple hours, inevitably watching every Nicholas Sparks movie, you spoke up.

“You know I love you, Z, but this whole Tomdaya thing really sucks.” You said. “I know. And I’m so sorry that he’s been unintentionally neglecting you. I’ve tried to shut down the rumors but his fans can be very persistent.” Zendaya explained. “Yeah, trust me I know. Ever since Civil War they’ve either loved me or hated me.” You said.

Unbeknownst to the both of you, Tom had gotten home five minutes prior. You looked up at the TV and examined the scene from A Walk to Remember.

“At this rate, I’d have to win the Oscar in order for him to want to spend time with me.” You commented. “I think we need to go on a girls trip. Maybe New York, see a broadway show or we go to Miami and just enjoy the beach.” Zendaya suggested.

You laughed at her suggestion and were honestly happy that she wanted to get your mind off of it.

But Tom felt guilty. He didn’t mean to neglect you and make it seem like he didn’t care. He loved you more than anyone and he didn’t know you felt this way. Probably because he was always so busy you didn’t get the chance to tell him.

“God, this feeling sucks.” You said with a sad laugh. Zendaya gave you a reassuring smile before you heard someone clear their throat.

Your head snapped in that direction and saw you Tom standing in the entryway. “Uh, I’m gonna go. But call me if you need anything.” Zendaya told you.

“Thank you.” You told her quietly before walked towards the door. “Fix this, Tom. That girl loves you and if you lose her, you’ll regret it.” She whispered to him before leaving.

Tom looked back at you and saw that you weren’t facing him anymore but scrolling on your phone.

“Y/N,” He started. “‘Zendaya secretly dating co-star, Tom Holland?’ ‘Tomdaya taking the world by storm.’ Oh and here’s my favorite headline, ‘why Tom Holland should be with Zendaya instead of Y/F/N Y/L/N.’” You said.

Tom closed his eyes tightly before walking over to where you sat. “They’re just stupid headlines.” He told you. “To you, they’re stupid headlines. To you, it’s just hanging out with your costar all the time. To me, Tom, it’s not having my boyfriend around when I get a role in a huge movie. Or it’s when he forgets my birthday.” You snapped.

“Your birthday is-“ He started before he realized he had missed it. “Two days ago. When you were at Disneyland.” You said.

“I am so sorry, love. I’ve been so busy with all the movies and I know it’s not an excuse but,” Tom pauses as he looks at your expression.

You were hurting when you should be celebrating your accomplishment.

“I love you, Y/N. I love you so much and I’m so terribly sorry that I’ve been neglecting you so much. I’ve been a terrible boyfriend but I hope you can forgive me.” He added, teaching to grab your hand.

“Of course I forgive you, Tom. I’m not going to throw a four year relationship down the drain because you’re bad at multitasking.” You joked.

Tom laughed at you before leaning forward to kiss you softly.

“So tell me about this movie.” He said. You smiled as you moved the carton of ice cream from your lap. “Well, it starts filming in Texas in a couple months. And then we’ll move to Western Nebraska and then Louisiana to finish it up.” You explained. “And are you excited?” He asked.

“I’m so excited. This is my first big movie that could win an Oscar.” You answered. “I am so proud of you, love. I really am.” Tom told you. “And I’ll have to come visit you on set.” He added. “Oh but of course.” You teased.

Tom was about to lean in again when your phone buzzed. You picked it up and saw that you were tagged in yet another post about Tomdaya.

“What is it?” Tom asked. “An instagram post about you and Z. ‘Tom and Z were so cute on Jimmy Kimmel! I didn’t even notice that Y/N was there too.’ Wow that hurts.” You read aloud. “Okay, this needs to stop.” Tom announced as he grabbed his phone.

“What are you doing?” You questioned. “Making sure that everyone knows that you are my girlfriend and it will stay that way.” He answered.

You waited in silence for a bit until you were tagged in another post, posted by Tom.

@tomholland2013: I want to give a well deserved shout out to my lovely girlfriend Y/N. If you haven’t already heard, she’s going to be in a new Martin Scorsese film and I am beyond proud of her. She deserves this more than anyone and I love her 3000 😉😉 @y/f/n_

You read the caption and smiled up at him. “I love you too.” You said. “Well, I’d hope so.” He joked. You leaned in and pressed a loving kiss to his lips before Tessa jumped up in between you two.

You both laughed but let her do it anyways. “Now I got both my girls.” Tom commented. You smiled lovingly at him before you cuddled into his side.

[thatgirlonstage]

Aftershocks

When the butterfly flits away on bright white wings, it leaves no memories. There is only a vague impression of rage, a seemingly righteous fury that burned away all other awareness. Rarely, the sound of a man’s voice echoes in their ears like the memory of a dream, giving them a name, offering them a deal.

———

Ivan doesn’t talk much about it, the first or the second time. He’s never been talkative, and despite the burningly curious stares he knows they’re all giving him, he doesn’t want to answer their questions. He couldn’t tell them what they want, anyway. All he can recall is the anger, the blinding searing anger that left it impossible to think. He endures the stares and glares any questioners into silence. The attention subsides when, a week later, the second attack comes. Curiosity deflects onto the next victim, and then the one after that, and eventually he’s not really special anymore, just the first in a long line of people who get to see their worst selves loosed on the world.

———

Nino remembers bubbles. He remembers a feeling of weightlessness, as if his own will for rebellion buoyed him straight into the air. He walks through the park and sees children blowing bubbles – innocent bubbles, real bubbles, nothing but soap and water whispered into existence on an afternoon breeze – and he can’t help but stare. Rainbows shine faintly on their sides like false promises, before the wind carries them into the shadow of a tree, where they soundlessly pop. He dreams of opaque spheres that fall to earth and shatter open like glass snow globes, spilling human bones.

———

Alya rewatches the footage of it, over and over. Some of it she filmed and broadcast herself while trapped in her own vicious quest for the truth. Some of it was regular news cameras, and some amateur phone videos submitted to the blog. She edits it methodically, piecing the footage together piece by piece, setting it out simply, chronologically. She pauses on her own face, caught in a rictus of obsessive triumph as her fingers curl around the edge of a mask. She struggles to understand that face as her, and not some creature created wholesale from fluttering black wings. Behind the mask of the girl behind her, blue eyes are wide with fear.

———

Her brother got a play-by-play of every moment, published on a blog for the world to see. Alix has confusing fragments and contradictory accounts, which can’t seem to resolve themselves into a single narrative. Her brother feels compelled to study his transformation, buried in notes of his own attempted murder. She has a blurry photo of herself, doubled and altered, and no one who can explain how or why. She takes heart at the sight of a blur of red and black soaring across the city, but something sits uneasy in the pit of her stomach every time, imagination run wild gathering into a tight uncertainty. Her suspicions are more frightening than any truth could be.

———

They reclaim their worst selves together. It was harder when it was just Nathaniel, for months on end, scribbling fragmentary scenarios. But Marc gets it, in a way that most of them don’t seem to, and between them, they rewrite their lowest moments into heroism. They are not the puppets of someone else’s malice.

———

The miraculous cure works excellently on demolished buildings or broken watches or zombie armies. It works less well on hurt feelings. By the time Kim is himself again, the damage is done. He hears the gossip wandering around school. So sad, they broke up on Valentine’s Day, they had a big fight on Valentine’s Day, they’re going on a makeup date after Valentine’s Day. He ducks his head and hurries past and tries not to imagine accusing stares following him.

———

There weren’t very many horror movies in their house to begin with, but when she gets home Mylène quietly gathers them up and throws them all away. Nino sends her the final version of the footage, and she turns the sound off, pulls up the blind to let in as much sunlight as possible, turns on her lamp, and presses play. She stops when she finds herself and pauses the video, freezing the face into unmoving pixels. She doesn’t stare at it for long before she hits the x to close the window and drags the file into the trash. She texts Ivan later. He’s the only one who might understand. He’s the only other one who was turned into a literal monster.

———

Emotions were hard to talk about. Neither Max nor Markov were much good at it. How were you supposed to articulate the illogical, explain something you yourself did not fully recognize or understand beyond the fact that it felt bad? Their discussions are halting and awkward, and full of rephrasing, but in a way it’s reassuring. They don’t have to wax poetic, in fact it’s better not to. But they get it. They get each other. They get how foreign it felt to have rage and frustration and abandonment and failure throttle them until those feelings overpowered any rational thought.

———

Sabrina tries to bring it up only once, and when Chloe speaks right over her, requesting Sabrina fetch her red heels, she never says anything again. She can’t get that upset again, she thinks. As often as she still feels invisible, she can’t let it get the better of her, or she risks losing herself again, and that means she risks losing Chloe. She tamps down her anger and frustration and tells herself she’s happy.

———

Chloe doesn’t do self-reflection or regrets. She doesn’t have a problem, she doesn’t need to get over anything. She was right, anyway. And she doesn’t remember it. Well, except for one vaguely unsettling thing, but she’s sure that she was just confused, or that everyone felt the same. She can remember her last lucid thought before she gleefully gave into her rage. She just doesn’t understand why she would think I know that voice.

———

Juleka doesn’t understand the girl in the pictures. The ones her classmates took with her – those are perfect, they’re tacked up all over her desk, and they make her feel warm inside whenever she looks at them. But the ones of the other her, or rather, the many other hers. She doesn’t understand why feeling invisible led to that face. She doesn’t understand who this doppelgänger is. She can’t see herself reflected in there, bubblegum pink and dolled up like some kind of alternate universe Barbie. Quite ironically, she never wants to see another picture of that face ever again.

———

It wasn’t that bad, Rose thinks, compared to others who brought down the Eiffel Tower or mind-wiped half of Paris. She tried to marry Ali, which was weird, but it really wasn’t that bad. She really doesn’t want to compare herself to someone like Nino or Kim, it doesn’t seem fair. She shouldn’t be that upset about it. But when her grandmother sends her a perfume bottle for her birthday, she stares at it for a very long time before she throws it away, gently dropping it into a dumpster, careful not to let the bottle break and release its scent into the air.

———

“So how come you’re the lucky one?”

“Hmm?” Marinette responded absently, more focused on her sketchbook than Alya, trying to capture the shape of the jacket one of the bakery’s morning customers had been wearing before it blurred too much in her memory.

“How come you’re the only one who hasn’t been akumatized?” Alya was sprawled across Marinette’s couch, looking at her upside down, flipping through comments on the Ladyblog. “Everyone else in our class has. You’d think Hawk Moth has some kind of grudge against us. Everyone except you.”

Marinette, pulled out of her concentration by the mention of akumas, set her pencil down. “That’s not true! she protested. “A–Adrien hasn’t either! Not that Adrien ever would, of course, he’s far too nice and sweet and kind, not that that really protects you from Hawk Moth but still he—” Alya interrupted her by laughing.

“Chill, girl,” she said. “You’re right, I forgot about Adrien. There have been like four akuma attacks at his house, I was thinking about that. Alright, so you and Adrien. What makes you two the lucky duo?” Marinette went red and tried to hide her stutter with a laugh.

“We’re not— I mean— The akuma that got Miss Bustier was supposed to be for me. It’ll probably happen sooner or later.” She tucked her hair behind her ear to hide the subconscious movement she’d made towards her earrings. “Unless Ladybug and Chat Noir catch Hawk Moth first.” She was counting on that. She had nightmares of butterflies closing in on her from all sides, of Chat’s voice calling distantly for help, of knowing that without her, no one could cure the akuma.

“Well, once you and Adrien both have your supervillain stint we’ll need to start a club,” Alya said, looking up from her phone and smirking. “Miss Bustier’s class: all your favorite akumas, all in one place. We can have a costume party dressed as our supervillain selves.”

“Do you think people would really want to do that?” Marinette asked doubtfully. Alya shrugged, the movement sliding her slightly off the couch.

“We’ve got to laugh about it sometime,” she said, returning her gaze to her phone. “Otherwise, it just tears you up inside.”

———

“Adrien?”

Adrien started, and guiltily put the child’s drawing back on the shelf. His father approached him, face unreadable, and studied the picture Adrien had been examining. He turned to look at Adrien and raised his eyebrows.

“It was one of the things you—” He swallowed and looked away. Adrien hadn’t seen the Collector’s destruction, only Chat had, and he didn’t need any complicated conversations about where he’d been that day. “I’d almost forgotten you kept this.” Gabriel’s face continued to betray nothing as he turned his gaze back to the picture. He reached out and closed the cabinet, locking it away.

“Your mother had it framed,” he said, and Adrien tensed. Gabriel turned back to him. “Shouldn’t you be at your Chinese lesson?” he asked. “I trust your regular teacher is back today.” Adrien felt a jolt of nerves. He still couldn’t quite believe the way that Fu had just walked in, as if it were perfectly normal for a magical benefactor to masquerade as a substitute Chinese teacher. Still, there was no reason his father should notice anything strange about “Mr. Chan.”

“He’s running late,” Adrien explained. “Bad traffic after the akuma attack.” Gabriel’s lips pressed together thinly.

“Go study in the meanwhile,” he instructed.

“Father?” He called it after Gabriel’s retreating back, and the question tumbled out before he’d thought about what he was saying. “What was it like, being akumatized?”

He wasn’t sure why he said it. Maybe lingering unwanted suspicions that his father might somehow still be Hawk Moth prompted him, trying to catch him in a lie. Maybe it was because he normally ducked out of akuma conversations, nervous he might forget himself and let something slip. Maybe he was just looking for his father to talk honestly about himself, for once, about anything besides work. He felt Plagg shift in his pocket, felt him practically buzz with surprise and sudden alertness. Gabriel had paused, stiff-backed and silent. Adrien resisted the urge to run.

Gabriel turned back to face him, a frown creasing his forehead in a way that Adrien might have almost mistaken for concern. He reached out and laid a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “It’s nothing you’ll ever have to experience,” he said. Adrien frowned, shook his head.

“Almost everyone in my class has been akumatized besides me,” he said. “Anyone could be next.” Gabriel pressed his lips together again, and something dark flitted across his eyes. He squeezed Adrien’s shoulder.

“It doesn’t feel like much of anything,” he answered. “I have no memory of it. It is less than a bad dream. But—” he hesitated minutely “—you should not let it worry you.” He released his shoulder somewhat abruptly and stepped back. “I think I hear your teacher at the gate. Enjoy your lesson.” He turned and left. Once he was out of the room, Plagg zipped out of Adrien’s pocket to hover by his head.

“What did you ask him that for?” Plagg asked. Adrien didn’t answer, still looking after where his father had left. His shoulder felt cold.

[carousels-on-fire]

Let me tell you about the love I’ve been carrying in my chest for 9 years. But never felt like I was allowed to talk about because ‘I should have gotten over it by now.’ (Note: I changed names and pronouns of those involved, even if no one would know anyone mentioned anyway. I probably slip up and change from they to he, but both are correct. ) Looking at old photos pushed me back into a depressive spiral I’ve been drifting in and out of for 9 years now. I don’t think I’ve written out the full story yet. Of that one relationship that brings me back to this place. Not where people can see it. I always allude to it. Or I tell part of the story. Or I try to downplay it. I tell people: “It was just a thing that happened. It was a two week thing, not important.”But it was the most painful and definitive experience of my early 20s, and even now, nearly a decade on, I still haven’t recovered from it. It fundamentally changed me as a person, and like the earth blackened by forest fire, I can grow around it, but that blackened layer of soil is part of my history. In 2009 I started college. Two months after my mother’s suicide attempt. I was 18, freshly out of high school; and lived the kind of sheltered life where I was terrified to even use a crosswalk for fear of getting hit by a car. I was kept on such a tight leash that I hadn’t experienced much of life at that point. Naive, emotionally vulnerable, and terrified of the outside world. I was left at the curb of my new dorm and for the first time I was on my own, with no one to answer to. I clung to the one friend who made that high school-to-college transition with me, my best friend who was older and seemed much wiser than I was. But it was a crutch. Something to fill that void of authority I’d always operated under. I never knew what to do with myself because i’d always had someone dictating where I went and how I spent my time. On my first day of drawing class I got there early and had to sit out in the hallway to wait for class to begin. And while I was sitting there I saw a person walk, quickly and almost comically past me carrying a music case and a bag, and then comically walk back and ask me where the practice rooms were. I told them I didn’t know because it was my first day and they decided to stop and chat with me because my class had yet to start. This person, who I will refer to as Des from here on out, was equal parts baffling and charming. They were gregarious, punctuating each phrase with a hand gesture, their entire demeanor being slightly manic, but in such an earnest way that you couldn’t help but be charmed. At the time I was entirely unsure what to make of this person, but they were nice, and they were talking to me, and I was happy to have a friend in this strange new world. They mentioned that they saw me in our Sociology class and I made a point to look out for them.  We started meeting after class everyday to go eat breakfast together in the dining hall. While they were still gregarious and charming and odd, they had a temper too. One that would manifest itself in a kind of righteous anger at one thing or another. There was a carefully hidden sadness there too, a kind of haunted edge to their countenance that you wouldn’t notice unless you happened to catch them in the stillness between words, in the quiet moments when they didn’t realize you were watching and they could pause the act and breathe. They were also the first gay person I met at college. I’d recently, a couple years beforehand realized I wasn’t straight and realized that I had a crush, not on the very pretty emo boy that I “obsessed” over, but his female equivalent in a new friend. And spent many years of unrequited pining wishing they would notice me. But they were straight and it wasn’t to be. Where most people entered college with a few relationships under their belt already or having married their high school sweethearts, I went with nothing at all. With the memory of never being wanted by any of the people I had ‘crushes’ on and determined to change that. I was so sure college would be it. College would be where I’d meet the love of my life and be married by the end of it. But once I got to college and was finally placed within meeting distance of other gay kids, I realized how out of my depth I was. How scary other people were and how scary this entire world was. So I kept pining after my highschool crush, praying that maybe, somehow they were interested and I’d misread the signs.  But Des was the opposite of me, approaching relationships with a confidence and lackadaisical familiarity that I could never had. They seemed to find new people to experiment with at the drop of a hat, and at the time I didn’t register my jealousy for what it was. I simply listened when they described making out with this person or the other. Shrugging, but also subconsciously seeing them in a slightly different light. Though, because I was still pining, I buried that feeling, filing it away for future use. They were just Des, a constant presence that sometimes scared me with their intensity, but never in a way that I would consider leaving. Enough that, like with my parents, I managed their emotions and sidestepped as to not be in the line of fire. Though their rage was almost never directed at me. I soon introduced Des to my best friend, we’ll call them Lee. Lee and Des took to each other immediately, having more in common and being more similar in demeanor than Des was with me. I was immediately relegated from center of attention, when it was just the two of us, to side character, third wheel. Des always tried to include me, but the damage was already done, in a way. Des brought in his friend, Ria and the four of us became inseparable. I was always hurt that Des never seemed to care as much as he did at first, but I was content to be the third wheel as long as I could be with them, as long as I didn’t have to be alone. I couldn’t change the fact that the two of us had far less in common, and my quietness simply couldn’t compete with someone much more sure, much more confident, and better at speaking than I was. It was easy to be talked over so I let it happen. I looked away when they would be so physically near each other in a way that Des and I couldn’t. I tried not to be jealous. But I was. We formed a cosplay group, modeled after one Des found on Youtube. We all picked characters and started calling each other by our character’s names instead of ours. It went from being a hobby to something we did 24/7. We’d wear our cosplays constantly as casual cosplays, try to do things in character, and even do videos and photoshoots. Over time it became a crutch for all of us. All of us dealing with broken home lives, abusive parents, or whatever problems were going on away from school. And dealing with gender and sexuality issues that we didn’t even have vocabulary for. All we knew was that wearing the skins of those characters was so much more comfortable than our own skins. I was part of it, but also deep in my Emilie Autumn phase. They were the cocoons I wrapped around myself to protect myself from the world, and from them to an extent.  But the first time I ever “realized” I felt anything for Des was when we did a photoshoot together in character. We were wearing our wigs and decided to pose together in ways that were sort of in character but not really. But it allowed me to be close to them or touch them in ways I hadn’t until that point. And while the tension was there, I didn’t recognize it for what it was. Unlike all my high school crushes where I obsessed over that person, I never once thought about how Des made me feel. It was going on instinct alone. Part of me knew there was something there, but I never obsessed over it beforehand. It simply was, an objective reality with no need for contemplation. The more time we spent together, the more I realized we made excuses to be close to one another, or excuses to touch the other, just innocently. But it frustrated me that every time we’d get close, Lee, our other friend would find a reason to join in or the moment would end. I couldn’t have their attention just focused on me. As selfish as I knew it was I yearned for it. And every time they gave me their undivided attention, it was like water to a parched man. I knew I was a goner one day when we were hanging out in Ria’s dorm room, and Des decided to put on her wig and dance around the room. It was silly, but I just remember making eye contact with him mid-spin, and he grinned at me in this way that was completely open and happy, and this realization just hit. But I still approached it so much more carefully than any of my high school crushes. For the first time I knew what it felt like to have someone reciprocate, and be almost sure. It wasn’t the carefully walled off no to avoid hurting me. But the apprehension of not quite knowing what this thing was. There was still jealously to contend with, but I felt like this thing we had was strong enough to win out against everything else. I had to content with my third wheel status, and that attraction I knew was there between me and Des.  The relationship, as it were, started the night Des and I shared a bed, and a first kiss. It was never really decided upon, just something that happened. Des had been sharing rooms with each of us to avoid their roommate and roommate’s boyfriend. The twin bed was just barely big enough for the two of us. And unlike that moment we stayed asleep together in Ria’s dorm room bed, we had the room to ourselves. Well aside from my own sleeping roommate. But it may as well have been just the two of us. After that we couldn’t avoid talking about this thing we had. It was tangible now. We were awkward around each other for a week until I finally got the courage to ask if that kiss had been a one time deal, and whether or not we should try a relationship. I had never been in a relationship but always wanted to be. Des had, but didn’t want to deal with people in our friend group knowing about it. So we started dating, albeit secretly. I had to keep the thing I wanted to scream from the rooftops secret. We met when we could alone, held hands walking through the campus, but we could never be public with our displays of affection. And me, being me, was still a little afraid to show affection in public anyway. And it hurt, to have this thing I’d wanted for so long, but not be able to say anything and to have to act like we weren’t together when we were among the other members of the group. I hated having to share him, even if I knew it was selfish. Other people got to spend so much time with their SOs, and I wanted that too. But I had everyone else vying for his attention. As the year progressed that cocoon of cosplay and group solidarity started to unravel. All the things we had tried to get away from by being other people, were starting to bleed into our college lives. The breakdown of Lee’s mother, the violent fallout of Des’ abusive homelife, and the disintegration of our little cosplay group as we brought in more people was a powder keg of post-adolescent drama. As our friend group expanded and included people only interested in using our intense, fragile connections for their own ends, cracks started forming in the facade of our friendship. Des became more and more withdrawn, or equal parts fury and aloofness that I didn’t know how to handle. But Lee did. When handling my parents emotions it was always step back and wait for the storm to clear. But with Des, I wanted to help him, but was completely out of my depth. He was subject to a pain and helplessness so deep I didn’t have the tools to help. I lacked the kind of empathy that he required. And, as horrible as it was, I was jealous that Lee could comfort him in a way that I couldn’t. Lee had a similar enough situation to know how to help, and I didn’t. In a lot of ways, our relationship was shallow. Des never wanted to hurt me by handing me all of his burdens, so he handed them to Lee. They got closer, while we got farther apart, ironic if you think about it. They were physically closer as well, showing each other affection, even if platonically, in ways the two of us couldn’t. We spent a single night together at my parents house before returning to college after the winter break. After that we seemed to grow further and further apart, not for lack of trying, but because the problems Des was dealing with in their own life were so beyond me. They’d started counseling months before that, and seemed to be falling apart at the seams, as much as I tried to help. Finally, in some odd twist of dumb, teenage logic, I decided the only way to help Des was to give them some space so they wouldn’t have to deal with a relationship on top of dealing with home issues and abusive parents and trying to protect their beloved sibling long distance. I met them in the study room we’d always met in as a group, to have the talk that led to our separation. And I remember, holding them, and realizing what a huge fucking mistake I’d just made. For years after I’d replay that moment in my head again, and again, and again for years just wishing that I’d said “Wait, no, I don’t want to be apart, please stay with me, I want to help you.” I’d have dreams where things worked out, then wake to the cruel reality that was being alone. I never really wanted to break up with them, I still loved them more than I ever thought I could love another person. But I wanted to help them so much that I overrode all logic to do the only thing I could think of. It was the single dumbest mistake I’ve made in my life. I threw away something that, might have been fine if I’d waited until Des sorted their problems out themselves and been there to stand beside them. I still, through some convoluted logic thought that maybe they’d want to get back together later. What I didn’t expect is that my friend, we’ll call him Seth, who’d innocently asked me if Des and I were together would go on to ask them out before Valentine’s Day, two weeks later. I never really realized what I’d lost until I heard they were together. Lee told me. Lee called me up to their work office, to tell me about how they’d planned to confess their feelings to Des in this whole set up way. But hadn’t had the chance. I never even realized that Lee felt anything like that for Des. But it didn’t register until then. I finally told them about that short, month long, hidden relationship that I’d stupidly ended weeks before. I was crushed. My entire world seemed to stop and go still the moment he told me Des was seeing someone. Not two weeks after we broke up. I felt betrayed and had no right to. I really had no right to feel bad since I initiated the end, but I did. It was a kind of grief I never felt before. I realized the mistake I’d made and knew that it was too late to go back. I think somehow, in some twisted bout of logic I thought maybe if I broke up with Des, that somehow he’d say no, and say that they loved me and actually wanted to be together. I didn’t expect them to let me go. And so easily. I realized then that as much as I loved Des so much that it physically hurt to be apart from him for more than a couple hours, Des only saw me as maybe a fun brief relationship, but otherwise another blip in his life. Where I had to beg him to come spend time with me, they were sneaking off with Seth at all hours. They were allowed to be open with their relationship. They could write about it on facebook, meet the parents. Where we had to hide it. My heart sunk down into my stomach every time I saw them together, and it took all I could to not burst into tears every moment. It was then that the depression started. The first thing I did after finding out was sit at my dorm room desk and cry, and then I called my two other best friends and they asked me for Des’ number so they could call and reprimand them for making me cry. But even if he hurt me, I couldn’t bear for them to be mean to Des. I couldn’t do it. I carried my grief inside, trying to exorcise it with art or poetry or anything I was always told would help. But it was an open wound inside my chest, a crushing weight, a reminder that I was unlovable that played inside my head day in and day out. My grades started to suffer. And through it all, I was never allowed to tell anyone why. Because I wasn’t out, the relationship was a secret, and I’d been the one to end it after all. I had no right to be sad and yet it ate at me day in and day out. My friends tried to set me up with other people, but I was still so in love with them, or maybe the idea of him that it was no use.  Later I wrote a love letter to him and met with him, because I knew once I saw them, I couldn’t hand them my pain. So I just gave them that letter. And they told me that one day I’d find someone. It was vague enough that I still had hope, but also that I had no closure. It hurt to be told to find someone else when I still felt so much for him. Des tried so hard not to hurt me, that he inadvertently hurt me worse because I was never really allowed to grieve. I couldn’t get over it, because I still had some vague hope that maybe one day Des would come back. Maybe they could feel something for me again. No matter how many people I told my story to, they didn’t get it. No matter how many counselors I told my story to, they didn’t get it. Because even with all my writing skill, I could never convey that feeling and the depth of it. I could never, out loud say that I loved him because it felt like too much. Like a harsh blinding spot light that I had to use words like “adore” or “really like” because saying love, saying I loved them, felt like a blowtorch melting my skin away and I couldn’t function under that pressure. I felt like if I admitted it, then I’d have to deal with the fact that I let go of someone I loved, really loved. Our group friendship kept unraveling. I remember sitting in a study room with our entire cosplay group, and Des, and Seth. Another friend of ours had a knife and I asked to see it. And I just thought “I could slit my wrists with this, right here, right in front of everyone and none of them could stop me.” Except they did. They must have seen something in my face and took the knife away from me. I was starting to fall apart too. Des and Lee and I started sniping at each other. Des would say cruel things to me. Things that he must have seen as some one off comment. But things that haunt me to this day. We had one big fight as a group. I said something cruel to Des that I will never forgive myself for, but luckily, another friend made us talk to each other and we made up. It was strained though. I still loved him deeply and could do nothing about it. I was too afraid to ever bring it up after the love letter, and he, wanting to spare my feelings would never say that he still knew I was in love with him. I think he knew, I would read him stories that I wrote or poetry, which were always indirectly about him, and not say anything. But his eyes always had this sad look, like he didn’t know what to say to me. We both played our parts of feigned ignorance. It was how we kept the peace. But the worst part is we stayed friends. I moved in with him a year or so later along with 3 or 4 other people. Even though it had been so long, and I liked his new partner as a person, it was an open wound. I had to watch them be a couple up close and personal, I had to watch them retreat to their room together, hear about their exploits from friends, and know that it could have been me but it wasn’t. Every time they touched each other it was like a cigarette being put out on my skin, a dull thudding ache in my chest that never seemed to go away. And I had to smile through it. Because still being in love with someone two years after they break up with you is something a crazy person does. So I kept it to myself, I wrapped my heart up in gauze and tried to keep anyone from seeing that it was still bleeding. I swallowed the pain down and tried to do other things. I tried to start a band. I tried to meet new people. I lost myself in new music obsessions. I dove into my Emilie Autumn obsession like never before. But in the back of my mind, through all of it was this voice saying: “You gave up the one person you will ever love, and it’ll never happen again.” I went and created an okcupid account. I exchanged numbers a few times, met one in person and accidentally met a new friend. But I just couldn’t connect with anyone. I would always compare them to Des. They weren’t Des, and I could feel nothing for any of them. I met a girl who I wanted very badly to love, because she was kind of androgynous, kind of loud and ‘fuck the world’ in the same way Des was. But, I just didn’t feel anything. We tried to be a couple, but eventually admitted that it was more convenience than anything and ended it after a few weeks. And stayed friends. The worst part was listening to Des excitedly tell me  he’d heard that I was in a relationship, and having to tell them it was over. It hurt that he was excited for me, even if I appreciated it. Every time he’d push me to talk to girls all I could think was “It could be you, I want it to be you, I don’t want anyone else.”  Eventually Des and my new roommates got into a huge fight and he moved out. As hopeful as I was when I heard Des was excited to be my roommate, it hurt to see him leave. No matter how much shit my new roommates talked about him, I could never see him as anyone other than this person I loved so dearly. But life went on, Des moved out to live in Vegas, and I created a new crew with my new roommates. We spent every moment together, along with Lee. But I never stopped thinking about Des. His name was a dirty word in our new accommodations because of the aforementioned fight, but I didn’t care. I held my love inside and tried to go on living. I started my band, got a lip ring, tried out that second and last relationship and tried to be a person. Later I found Des’ blog and went through reading whatever I could. Because as much time as we knew each other, I knew so little about him. I read that they were starting to question their gender and it scared me, not because I disapproved, but because I was so insecure in my lesbian identity at the time, that I thought if they transitioned to a gender that I’d swore up and down I wasn’t attracted to, could I still love them? This broke me anew because I was adamant in my identity, but so afraid of what felt like ‘losing them.’ But eventually I decided it didn’t matter. I loved them no matter what. I hadn’t yet heard the terms queer or nonbinary, but knew that my love transcended gender identity. Des started talking to me again after leaving town. It had actually been months, and while I was sad over it, I was determined to wait for him to text me first. I wanted to see if he cared. And eventually I got a message. He started telling me about his crazy life out in Vegas. His relationship ended around this time, and I had hope again. I never said anything, but I always had that what if in the back of my mind. We started talking regularly again. It was shallow, surface level stuff about life and comics. But that connection was there again. I always looked for clues that maybe he was interested again, but being a person who’s naturally affectionate and prone to speaking in character role play, I could never be certain. The crush started to wane a bit. Eventually I decided the college I was at was not conductive to either my fashion designer goals or my quest for a  relationship so I put in paperwork to transfer. I began the terrifying journey to not only moving three hours away from my parents, but three hours away from everyone and everything I’d ever known. I was left right in the middle of a brand new city at an expensive college and was determined to start over. While I’d still, always, hold some love and hope that Des would return to me, I tried to be hopeful about finding love at this new school. In spite of whatever was going on in my life, I was always searching for a relationship. And I thought there was no better place to find other queer people than at an art school in a liberal-seeming artsy city. But eventually I’d learn it wasn’t. I moved to the city and was confronted with the exact same fears I had at the beginning of college. I thought that maybe I’d just run into someone, just like my first years of college. And I did, but no one like Des.  The longer I spent at school, the more I realized that not only was my art not up to par, but the dream relationship I’d been searching for my entire life was simply not to be. Each new person I met was not who I was looking for. I looked for Des in everyone, but he was singular and unique. I tried to bury that disappointment and try to love someone, anyone. I kept at okcupid, installed dating apps, but still nothing. I started sleeping a lot. I stopped forcing myself to go to college events. Eventually everything started to feel like a chore. I sunk deeper and deeper into depression when I realized that while I’d changed schools, I brought all my pain, all my fears and everything else with me. I started gaining weight, I cut all my hair off. I looked horrible, I felt horrible. I ended up breaking my ankle over the summer and gained even more weight. I returned to college with a noticeable limp. I was embarrassed of every photo my new friends tagged me in because I didn’t look or feel like myself. I couldn’t bear to actually go on any dates because I felt ugly and unlovable. And the fact that no one had wanted to date me since him seemed to cement that fact. Then one day, out of the blue, I got a text that Des was back in my city. The city I’d chosen to go to college was actually his hometown. It had been years since we’d seen each other in person. I was apprehensive because it had been long enough that we were very different people. I met him in a coffee shop, and was delighted to discover that we actually had more in common now than we ever did in our early college days. Des decided to explore the wild side that you simply can’t explore in our middle of nowhere, wants-to-be-a-city where we met. And as much as I thought ‘ok, it doesn’t feel electric anymore every time you get close to me, but there’s still something there.” I was still hopeful, because at that point no other relationship had worked out. I still remember what it felt like to be loved, and wanted that again.  Des avoided talking about his relationships while out in Vegas and I respected that. I enjoyed just listening to him talk about his exploits, knife fights, and everything else he’d been up to. I told him about college and art school. But one thing that had changed is our easy familiarity. While Des had always put a hand on your shoulder or had no concept of personal space while telling a story, it felt stilted, different. All his affection for me seemed completely gone. And it crushed me again in a new way I didn’t think I was capable of feeling. I was afraid that any shred of love, any shred of hope was gone now. I knew that love, real love, doesn’t fizzle out, so if I feel less now, then what does it mean? I was pretty sure that Des was in a relationship at that point, but until he confirmed I didn’t want to think about it. We had this stilted, but still close friendship borne out of shared trauma, in a way. But I could never shake that longing.  Which ran the gamut from barely noticeable to this all-consuming pining. It went on and off for years. Buoyed by some off hand comment or touch, and sunk by suspicion that he was involved with someone else. I remember one meeting of being so convinced that the chance I’d been waiting for, for years was finally at hand,and I remember hinting at to Des in a noticeable way. But he deflected that comment and I didn’t bring it up again. I didn’t want to press further and risk shattering the illusion of hope I’d created for myself. So I went back to my old ways of pining, but trying not to make it obvious. I would take any shred of affection he could give me. And those shreds were what kept me going even as the depression that the original hurt had set in emotion was beginning to become noticeable in ways that even my closest friends were aware of. I started going to counseling regularly and started taking meds for depression right as my final year of college was at an end. I’d mostly gotten over the relationship, but not entirely. The fact that no other relationship with any other person seemed to work out was beginning to wear on me. It felt like something wrong with me as a person. It had been 7 years at that point, and not a single person after that second relationship, so much as looked at me. That combined with a future made bleak by student loan debt made me sink deeper and deeper. At some point I decided I’d kill myself right after graduation but could never bring myself to do it. I stayed in that city, worked horrible retail jobs and suffered through as best I could. And then, fate decided to bring us together again. My car had broken down earlier in the week, just stalled out in the middle of the road. And I took a bus to work that let out in the mall. And Des, just happened to be driving by and called my name. At that point it had been months since we’d seen each other, even if we lived in the exact same city. He a half hour outside, and me within the city. We started talking again. I was still hopeful, but less so. My suspicions he was with someone were confirmed and it crushed me at third time. At this point I was used to the heartbreak and it hurt less than all the other times. I decided, at this point, that as jealous as I was, I would try to be happy for him. It no longer mattered what I felt because I knew it would always be one sided. Even if I asked every tarot spread if we’d eventually end up together. Even if every wish on every set of birthday candles I’ve made since 2009 have been to bring him back to me. Even if I’m fairly sure I will never love anyone else the way I loved him, I still want him to be happy. So I decided I would try to be as enthusiastic about his new relationship as my heart could take. That I would try as hard as I could to make her feel included in our little friend group. Even if part of me dies every time I think about it. I dressed up and drank my sorrows on new years. I realized that he loved her in a way he could, and would never love me, and there was no changing it. And I was going to try as hard as I possibly could to support him in that. I was going to try so hard to finally bury these emotions and not let them hurt him. But they’re always going to be part of me. I think I had something once in a lifetime. Even if it must be platonic, we’re soulmates. There was a connection there once, and I don’t think that goes away, but he moved on a long time ago. And maybe, one day I’ll be able to move on too. But not now. Now I still think back on it all, and cling to it, because my present is such a depressing mess of pain and sadness and hopelessness. I still hope, but its a futile hope I realize. I’m still so happy whenever I hear from him, the way I’m not happy for anyone else. I’m still going to try to be there for him as much as I can. It still hurts, but he always mattered more to me than I do, so it doesn’t matter.  I think I always wrote these things in the hopes that he’d see them and give me some kind of closure. But he doesn’t really read them, and I don’t blame him. He has enough to deal with, without the weight of my sorrows adding to it. And, I think, both he and I know it would be hard for me to handle the weight of that finality if he did finally tell me it would never work out. The vagueness of it seems like something warm and comforting to return to. A what if where there’s no other hope. He told me: ‘one day, maybe, when we’re different people’ and that is what keeps me going some days. I’m always torn between wanting to know, and not wanting to know. I do, but god, it’s going to hurt so much. But that’s the story of why I can’t move on. Why I’ll never love anyone as much as I loved him, and why every other relationship seems so shallow in comparison. This still isn’t all of it. But there are some things I want to keep for just myself. Some details that are ours alone.  Maybe one day I’ll be able to love someone again.

[literallycaressespieces]

Strength in Weakness

After literal blood, sweat, and tears (I stabbed myself with my prop, broke many a sweat, and cried more and more as the day of the competition started approaching), here is my second-place winning piece for the 2017 US National Pole Championship.

[redlemonz]

Day #29

Here we go again. Nothingness, as apparent through my outer appearance, but served with a side of slower, longer breaths. The clouds in my mind are heavy and ready to burst again, as I clasp onto the temples of my skull in an attempt to contain myself. Internally and externally freezing at this point too, and all I wish to do to resolve it is cuddle her as she'd lay beside me in in this bed, or even just tell myself that the possibility still exists. But it doesn't, and so the sharpness of this chill spreads and splinters my heart. The piercing nature of being reminded on yet another new day where I stand is numbing to my soul, yet also creates a small ball of rage within me that's target is it's own self. I'm still a mess, but at least I'm a somewhat disciplined mess now, even if it means living each day as a robot. I haven't even shaved since just before the end, and visiting her for our wonderful weekend (+sick day monday), and am on the road to probably looking like a lumberjack. The only tree I'm in the process of cutting down with this axe however is my own source of life, being slowly chipped away at with this sharp metal. She'd probably like me more if I literally was timber though. Jokes aside (well, hopefully that one's a joke), I've got a new phrase to quote from her that I can repetitively punish myself with. "I don't know" - when those words arise, and are not in the context of any conversation we're having at the time, likely pertains to her evaluative thought process on whether we actually can be simply friends and refrain from crossing the imaginary line between us. It could also mean she's questioning herself out loud to whether she's made the right decision by ending us, although I'll admit that's just an extremely and unrealistic optimistic view upon my part - because I'm certain by now that she has no doubts in regards to that decision. She's provided me with enough clarity in regards to the blunt and brutal honesty, to wedge that nail into my heart and head. Nevertheless, as much as it crushed me to respond in some way or manner to that, I simply told her to stick by her beliefs and principles, as she's the smarter one between us two and always has been. I don't want to influence her because I have no right to, and because I've already dragged her down enough and contributed greatly towards making her betray who she is, through my own selfish and regrettable acts. It pained me to essentially state that she's better off without me, and should do whatever she has to for her own wellbeing, but I do love her and have always genuinely just wanted the best for her, and that's the truest underlying intention upon which I wanted to build our relationship. Even if it means that I'm alone, on the other side of this bridge away from her, as she freely disappears away into the tunnel of her own individual future. I hope that this recurring sacrificial theme doesn't falsely come across as emphasising some sort of heroic tragedy, because I can assure you that this isn't a damn fantasy that I exist within, and is in fact an on-going and inevitable penance for the consequences of my deeds. Day 29 - "what ifs" are pointless Another uneventful day of work, with the exception of the other two of the three asking me how things are with her, just to give me shit - as friends do. Of course they know the situation for the most part already, but I figure that laughing along and keeping my mask of security attached is the best thing I can do otherwise I'll lose my only remaining minor safe haven of distraction. I stress a great weight on the word 'minor' in that regard, as I just spent a few moments of time after the lunch break returning to my personal sickroom to alleviate some anxiety. I've been sitting here wondering whether things could've been any different if she was still in the same town. I remember that her parents were leaving for a five week holiday in which I was excited to spend a bunch more time at her place with her (or I'd assume so anyway because I'd likely invite myself over all the time). Damn, that would've been a dream of a time too. Of course she would be the one who's capable and genius enough to apply, interview and attain a job in a different town, all on the same day. Because she's just that naturally talented, and I'm glad she's being recognised for It. Ever since then, even though as I mentioned that I tried to support her as much as I could (and ultimately failed miserably and selfishly), I was afraid of losing her and consequently us drifting apart because of what common long-distance relationships are perceived to be like. It's due to that self-reasoning that my insecurities spiked to an all time high, and I got even more attached and emotionally vulnerable to the point where I would react and fight with her uncontrollably at an unnecessarily level. I felt as though I had to try extra hard and make much more effort than usual, (which you can witness that I clearly brought upon myself) and it's certainly true to a degree for obvious reasons revolving around the physical distance we're apart from each other, but I took that, and my overall insecurities way too overboard when trying to hold onto us. Everything was just happening so quickly that I never really adjusted properly to the new idea of what life would be like, and didn't bother to appropriately take a breath, step back and realise the leap she was taking on her own, rather than focusing on us and how it would affect me. It's too late for me to make any further excuses though, and figure how I could've approached the situation so much more differently and supportively, as opposed to how it would benefit my own greedy agenda. I was holding her back from embracing her new life in a new town, rather than holding her hand by her side through it. It doesn't matter what would've happened if she had stayed here, because she didn't - and that's not how life works. I failed to adjust to the alterations and got needier for recognition in her life as a result, because I felt much more easily disposable in the greater physical distance we had between us now, but also because the opportunities for recognition were more limited than usual. As you can tell, my greatest flaw lay in over-thinking and assuming largely ahead about how negatively things would potentially play out and fall apart, which consequently ruined our present day and brought forward that very same despised fate which I initially created in my head. Anyway, I've returned to torment myself by uselessly piling up all my obvious mistakes and regrets and hating myself for it all, and wishing I could relive it. I guess it's still a learning experience at the end of the day, even if it is sadly and unfortunately far too overdue. So I broke down on the drive along to the gym this evening, and I'm not sure why (though forcing yourself towards going to the gym can sometimes be sufficient reason on its own). It came out of nowhere, and I wasn't even thinking about anything specific in particular. Though I suppose I'm constantly thinking about her in general anyway which may is likely an adequate formula. I did have some unforeseen rage build up inside me before I departed home too. Maybe the afterthoughts, subsequent blame and self-loathing may have slightly subconsciously triggered the watery eyes. Nevertheless I fed the wolf some iron, as my friend The Colonel would say, so mission accomplished there once I got past all the hellish reflective gym anxiety that's always fun. Thinking about how I'm occupying myself well for the upcoming days with overtime work late on Thursday, and on Saturday, and then watching some word famous fight on Sunday at one of three's place (the dude lives down the road basically) that everybody in the drowning mainstream is going mental about. Sad to admit but even though it's been a while now, I don't even really miss my friends anymore either, because I've got a lack of belonging there now - I'm the lone wolf in every sense who simply doesn't fit in, or can't anymore. Most of the time I can't help but feel so negatively judged by a few of the closer ones - justifiably so, given the dirtbag I clearly am, but it's still painful nonetheless. I've accepted that they're better off without me holding them back too. What I am slightly afraid of is the changing, lonely dynamic that will be brought to this empty house when my family leaves for a holiday in a week from now. They're not away for long at all - about ten days or so, but in spite of that the impact will still be felt considering that they do generally contribute a more favourable role in my current daily battle with insanity with their presence. That should definitely be interesting and fun to analyse whether hell consumes me further or not. I'll live - hopefully anyway (just kidding.. haha?) If only she could come visit for that weekend. Everything would be better. She actually snapped me some more cute and crazy singalong videos of herself to shitty symphonies on the radio today. We had some general message exchanges in the late evening too which were nice. I'm actually learning that I'm appreciating speaking to her so much more no matter what we say or discuss, or a lack thereof, because of my absence of wasted time conversing with others outside of my bubble with general small talk. She designed, drew, constructed and ultimately transformed my empty model of a face into one with a lasting smile, and successfully accomplished in bringing about my contentment tonight - without endeavouring to do so. She's quite the architect, after all.

[markyishanthonymartinez]

1/20/17

my name is mark anthony martinez and this is my day.

i vlogged today and i figured it’s kind of pointless to double down on this blog and actual youtube vlogs, so today’s blog will be a bit short considering that.

woke up. there’s a lot of iffiness around me so the first five minutes of being awake usually involves making sure i have a grasp of what iffiness i dreamed and what iffiness actually happened. like last night involved something on a boat. like i was on a cruise and like my bae kinda just decided to be with another guy, the guy was like a carbon copy of me but a lot more caucasian and thinner and less harsh features overall, the whole time and for some reason i didn't confront them until like the final dinner of the cruise and like i just remember getting into a fight and slipping off the boat and then waking up cause it turned into a falling thing where i’m scared cause i’m falling into the water. like what even is that dream. there’s definitely a lot of detail that i can't remember, but yeah i probably won't be going on any cruises soon. at least like the next week or two, ya’know? okay so anyways, confirmed my life is still iffy, but not anywhere near as iffy as if i lost a girl at sea and got into a fight that i obviously lost by falling into the ocean. i actually ate breakfast before getting into my routine of editing and uploading and transferring and whatnot, which is good i guess? (funny thing about the word whatnot, for a long-enough-to-be-memorable amount of time, my myspace name was Mark&Whatnot and people loved it, it was like the markyish before the markyish (let’s be real though, at this point Markyish is my entire brand and i could never shake it if i tried)). But yes i ate and got ready and stuff and then went into that stuff. Finished my complete write-up for “Red, Green, Or Inbetween” by WSTR (pronounced Waster, it took me forever to figure that out). It’s a solid record, but the vocals are so overproduced throughout that it legitimately annoys me at times. i think i’m giving it a 6, it could've been a lot worse, but it could’ve been a lot better. however, being the bands debut full length gives me hope that they can really shine in the future. look out for that review soon i promise. mnj got home and of course i asked him why he was home so soon. he fed my fish, that fish would be dead x10 without him. we ate and watched soccer again. that’s pretty standard. freiburg was playing bayern munich, they took the early lead, but couldn't hold off bayern’s attack and ended up losing 2-1, rip. we watched some youtube again, we don't watch a lot of the same youtubers since i’m super into vloggers and stuff nowadays, but we still both really enjoy watching the sidemen’s gaming videos so we usually watch those together. 

then omg okay i listened to potentially one of my favorite records of the year. as it is’ new release “okay.” is immaculate. like wow. they used to be that really annoying pop punk band that was way overproduced and the vocals were too whiney and they made everyone other than fangirls want to kill themselves. like they had one catchy tune, but i really did not like the rest of their music, but leave it to them to progress immensely and put out an amazing record. i’m talking potential 9 club people. it was catchy, it was poppy, it was diverse. they played around with lower tunings they’ve definitely never used. the lyricism was sick sick sick. there was hardly any songs that i was just like oh okay guy likes girl, girl doesn't like him, sad boy now. nah like there’s one about a grandparents death, and one about being a bad sibling, and ones about not being okay and that being okay, and the themes and lyricism are 100000x more than i was expecting from this band and really good for anyone’s standards. this record is legitimately quality, i promise. here’s a link to the youtube playlist. if you can't get past the vocals, darn, but really worth a listen. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HpZL8cbLq4o&list=PLsBWlr67U5NsBbWZyypkhNmXzuJycASJr&index=1

okay loved loved loved that record review coming asap as well, but it’s behind the wstr record in the line so it’ll have to wait a sec. i played fifa with logan and joey. we played pro clubs and are now at the cup final thanks to two penalty shootouts and a rage quit. literally a rollercoaster of a session. but then kyle came to my house and we went to go grab logan and came back and bags was here and hopped in his whip and we wentttttt. to a place to eat. the most un-mark place ever and i feel kinda gross supporting the business but kyle paid and it was a gift card so technically the damage had already been done. the food wasn’t that great. it’s overrated. probably never again. then we wenttttt to midway and played games (i don't think i rly need to hide this part). we spent way too much money. like you don't want to know. i was just trying to win another pokemon to be friends with pikachu but i couldnt get the markyish magic to come through in the ring toss (which is how i originally won the pikachu). I was sad. 

at this point i’ll probably just be sad forever.

then omg. (okay i need to stop acting like anyone other than me and potentially erin cranor here and there will ever read any of these). okay mark and potentially erin. WAIT before the omg part, we played hella arcade games. i beat logan in mario kart and bags beat him in boomerang air hockey and logan and kyle played this shooting game for like a yearrrrrr, they kept putting in coins to get more lives but they kept dyingggggg. but then, of course, we found our way to the basketball arcade thingies and leave it to us to become so ridiculously hooked on them and cause a scene. in our defense it was the best deal, it was only 50 cents and like every other game was a dollar plus, f that. i’m trynna ball up and get my money’s worth. okay but i went haaaaam. jk like they obvi didnt know, but i’ve always been sick at arcade basketball, i’m horrendous, disgustingly bad, cancerous even at normal basketball. but arcade basketball i’m literally lights out, it’s all in the wrist. *flicks wrist* “look at the flick of the wrist (the wrist)” but yeah i’m sick, don't ever challenge me. your grandchildren’s grandchildren will be paying off your debts. 

SPEAKING OF DEBTS HERES THE OMG PART. we’re walking the parking lot, logan pulls out a 20, slides it to bags, “put it on red” mind you this is already after spending way too much money on midway and arcade games. okay okay but then, apparently squads on the financial up, cause kyle slides in, hands bags another 20 and says to the guy, “put it on black.” OOOOOOOOOOOO WE COOKIN. BUT THEN MARK jk mark didn’t do shit, mark’s a little bitch #realtalk #fuckmarkcausehesstraightedge #eventhoughthathasnothingtodowithgambling we could talk for days about how lame mark is, but we won't. WHY cause logan has bigger balls than um those big balls that you can win in the giant cranes and midway games, those. idk how he fits them in his pants but he manages. anyways logan, hands bags another 20 he says he says he says “put it on black” ooooooooooooooo this dude logan is sooooooo feelin’ himself. Bags hasn't used his gambling ability yet so he has no idea what to do. he literally awkwardly stands at the roulette table, like right by the actual roulette thing. he does this for like 15 minutes until everyone clears out and the lady realizes he’s trying to play and kinda half helps him half thinks he’s an idiot. he then proceeds to play, we kinda chill over to the side cause technically me filming and us even being close is v much against any and all rules. he even gets a lil comfy and orders a drink when asked. legit, five minutes after he starts playing he walks over to us, lookin’ all doofy like he always does and just straight up “i lost all of it. i literally got it wrong every time” we, of course, die laughing. moral of the story is gambling is bad and if you do it you’ll probably be a disgrace to your entire lineage. jk just don't ever let bags gamble for you, instead try gambling against bags. 

we drove home singing much too loudly in the car. we made sure to drive by trump tower and play our country’s new national anthem, thank you yg for your beautiful efforts. other tracks played included freaks and geeks by childish gambino, baby blue by action bronson, and of course the wonderful bad and boujee by migos. (lol autocorrect really really really wanted that to be amigos). 

my b is bad and bougie.

do fun things. stay beautiful.

- mark anthony martinez