#now what do I do with myself/my life/my time/my energy/my independence/my god knows what else

[punkrockisafulltimejob]

I'm working on a project on my computer and vaping, this is the closest I've been to my normal pain level in days. I know it won't last, especially not when I'm trying to sleep later.

Trying to ignore the guilt of disappearing from work for three days, when the last time I did that it was my mental breakdown two years ago.

[thats-sir-dyke-to-you]

When it comes to hygiene tasks and self care with disability and chronic illness, its pretty much a constant case of: don't let perfect be the enemy of the good.

Basically: it's better to do something, than to do nothing at all.

TLDR: Just because you can't do something "properly" doesn't mean you shouldn't do it at all. Do it half-way. Do it shitty. Do it barely. Do it on a technicality. But do what you can. Just try, because doing something will help you.

If you don't have the energy to scrub your body with a sponge, just rub soap over your skin with your hands.

If you don't have the energy to wash your whole body with soap, just hit the places where sweat accumulates, or where you're smelliest.

If you don't have the energy to wash with soap AT ALL, just sitting in water is better than nothing. It will wash away dirt and oils.

If you can't bathe or shower at all, a warm wash cloth is your new best friend. If that's too much, then try bath wipes. They're a bit bigger than regular wet wipes, and a bit more heavy duty. They're designed to help keep bed ridden patients clean in hospitals.

If you don't have the energy to dry yourself after a bath or a shower, just put on a bathrobe and get into bed. If you don't have the energy to get dressed afterwards, just don't. It can wait until you can.

If you don't have energy to brush your teeth for two minutes, honestly, just a cursory scrub is better than not doing anything.

If you can't brush your teeth twice a day, brush in the evenings. It will help take away the build up of food from the day.

If you don't have the energy to brush AT ALL, honestly, just take a cloth and wipe the plaque off your teeth. Rinse with mouth wash after if you'd like. Something is always better than nothing.

If you can't floss twice a day. Try once. If that's too much, try a few times a week. If that's too much, try setting aside a day once a week as a goal. If you can't keep a schedule, do it when you're able to. Hell, I keep some floss next to my bed so that if I forget and don't have the energy to go get it, I can just reach over.

If you can't iron your clothes, don't bother. Wrinkles are fine. Wear jumpers over wrinkly t-shirts. No one will know, and honestly, most people won't even care. If it's really wrinkly and it's A Big Deal And It Needs To Be Ironed, here's my life hack. Step 1: take a spray bottle, and spritz the item of clothing (while you're wearing it is easiest) until it's lightly damp. Step 2: use a hair-dryer on the clothes until they're dry. It gets rid of creases like nobody's business, it's easier than lugging out the iron and ironing board, and you get to have nice toasty warm clothes afterwards.

If you can't fold your clothes, try just hanging them up. It's less commitment. It's quicker to do. Granted, you need to have the space in order to do this, but it is also good at helping you downsize, and lets you visualise exactly what you have.

If you can't put your clothes away, invest in a couple of laundry baskets, and then just keep your clean clothes in the baskets. You can then separate washed clothes into underwear, pants, and shirts baskets. You can just leave them like that. I'm giving you permission to never fold your laundry again if you can't. Just leave it unfolded. Who's going to care? Something is better than nothing. If you can, try to put those baskets into your closet so that you can keep the clutter out of sight, and give yourself a more restful environment.

If you can't separate your clothing out into different categories and wash them "properly" (whites, warm tones, cool tones, darks, delicates / switching between hot & cold washes / paying attention to laundry instructions on the label) then just don't worry about it. If you cold wash your clothes, colours won't bleed. Maybe gradually over the course of dozens of washes there'll be some changes in hue, but it's really not as high stakes as the One Red Sock In The Whites Turns Them Pink trope makes it out to be.

I've pretty much come to the point in my life where if a piece of clothing can't survive the washer and dryer, then it's just not meant to be. I colour separate my clothes, and if I have the energy/remember I'll take my bras and jumpers out of the washing machine to drip dry. But otherwise, I leave it to the universe.

If you can't separate out your recycling, then don't. If you have a large amount of rubbish you need to get rid of but the idea of separating it out properly is stopping you from doing so, then just don't worry about it. I know it's not ideal, but if you have garbage in your room/house and you need to get rid of it, please just get rid of it. Don't let the problem get bigger and harder to deal with. Don't let "doing something properly" get in the way of keeping your living spaces clean. Please. Give yourself understanding.

If you can't wash your dishes, get paper plates. Obviously, it's not ideal, but it is better that you eat food than skipping meals. It is better that you have a clean kitchen, rather than having dishes piling up and making it harder to look after yourself.

If you can't prepare meals for yourself keep making the tasks easier and easier. If you can't do recipes, then simplify. Use pasta sauce from the jar instead of making it. Eat canned soup. Buy food you can just stick in the oven. If you eat fish fingers and microwave veggies every night, it's better than not eating anything at all. It's better than having to fork out money on take-out. If you need ready-made meals, then get them. If you're literally just eating a raw cauliflower for dinner; 1) I see you, 2) me too, sis, 3) something is better than nothing.

These are the basic things you need to do every day to function as a person. They are your activities of daily living. Brushing your teeth. Bathing or showering. Using the bathroom. Getting dressed. Eating. Drinking. Sleeping. Keeping your environment clean. You don't need to do these things perfectly, but they need to happen in order for you to have a decent quality of life.

And it breaks my heart, because I know that so many disabled people can't do these things every day. I'm not saying this to guilt or judge, I'm saying that these are basic needs; you deserve these things. These things bring dignity. If a disabled person is unable to do these things, it diminishes their quality of life. It robs them of dignity.

If you need help to do these things, Its okay to ask for help. It's okay to need help. But if you can't get that help and you have to do these things by yourself -- or you just plain want to be independent and do it without help-- then don't hold yourself to standards you can't meet.

Don't let perfect be the enemy of the good. Doing something is always better than doing nothing. Even if it's not perfect. Even if it's not done well. Do what you can.

[lennonmurphy]

I dove headfirst into adulthood. Here's what I've learned:

As a recent college grad, I've been overwhelmed by the bitter taste of independence and adulthood. Freedom is good, but the anxiety, fear, and insecurity requires a lot of adjustment. I'd know, considering the first few months of official adulthood for me has resulted in stress-induced alopecia (it's getting better, thank god).

I think I've learned more in the past few months than I have in the last two decades. I'd like to share a few of these things.

You will learn more in your first few months as an independent adult than you ever did at college and that's okay.

From budgeting to time management to mental health, it has been a whirlwind of life lessons for me. I've panicked over more things in the past few months than I ever have in my life, which is borderline impressive considering how anxiety-ridden I am. But, you do learn. And it does get easier.

Sometimes things are scary, but you will always make it through.

Nothing in life is so bad that you can't make it through. There is always a way. You just have to ground yourself with that knowledge and be present. Where are you right now? What can you do, right now? Sometimes you end up creating problems that aren't even there, and you stress yourself out more. It isn't worth it- save your energy. Even when it seems like the end of the world, you get back up.

Time spent on your own is good and necessary.

I can't lie, my biggest fear for most of my life was loneliness. But, being alone doesn't have to mean you are lonely. And, time alone is necessary. Whether you're pursuing passion projects or just relaxing, you need this down time. Otherwise, you'll have no energy to dedicate to anything else. Let yourself recharge.

Some people are brick walls.

I am extremely argumentative. I love debate, and I love winning debates. At times this is a great trait, at other times it is to my detriment. When other people just *won't* hear you out, you've got to know when it's time to call it. Some people truly are brick walls and it isn't worth wasting your energy to convince them of something when they aren't open to hearing that they are wrong. Which leads to another point.

Know when you are wrong.

The inability to admit wrongdoing is often a symptom of young age, but your life gets so much better when you can admit it. It leads to improved communication, and it saves friendships. Plus, why wouldn't you want to improve and get better? Being wrong is not the end of the world. You are a human and you are constantly improving. That is okay!

Slowly, but surely.

This mindset has been saving me recently. I am an instant gratification girly, and I have been learning not to be. Many things in life do not come easy. Just be patient and keep working towards your goals, and don't lose hope.

For the love of god, watch where you are running on trails.

I've been an avid runner for years now, but injury has stopped me from consistently running for a few years. I'm getting back into it now, and I've fallen three times in the past two months on the trails, scraping my knees and pulling muscles. So, if you're trail running, watch the path ahead of you. It'll save you a lot of time (and swearing).

Cats are amazing.

I love cats so much, but wow. Having a cat yourself? Life changing. A complete mental health game changer. I love my cat so much.

Positive self talk does wonders.

It sounds corny, but positive self talk really does help. When I'm running and I feel like stopping (my endurance just isn't what it used to be, but we're getting there) I tell myself "you're doing it!" and "you can! you are!". Gotta say, it does keep you going- and not just for running.

I know I'll definitely continue to learn more. Comes with the territory. Maybe I'll add some updates to this list as I go.

Thank you for reading :)

[readingsbyawokemi]

My space to just be and be amongst like-minded individuals. Tumblr was my go to years ago when I called myself a new era hippie. There was so much inspiration. Now I'm here soley as a spirit to help others, inspire and live life.

I'm a psychic and have been a reader since 2011. It started when I would pray to my Orisha shrines my Mom gave me. I would get messages from them, or what I thought were messages and things would come to pass. Then an ex-God sister of mine came up to me randomly one day and handed me a worn out deck of tarot cards! Without saying anything. She was an Aries. Brave, because she didn't stop knowing my Mom might say no since tarot cards arent apart of Ifa (shaman nonetheless). I was so excited but skeptical. I asked it basic questions and was surprised at how accurate it was until I asked more and more questions and thought, ok they're real. Lmao. I then used a tarot phone app from time to time and merged over to Facade.com/tarot. I used the voodoo deck mostly. I love love love Facade.com and recommend them to any new comer that isn't ready to show their face in a spiritual store and buy a deck or doesn't have the money but still wants to delve in.

After years of teaching myself the cards by memory through reading after reading, question after question answered. Struggling with bi-polar and schizophrenia (yes I hear voices! Spirits! Duh!) going in and out of the hospital taking this med and that. I practiced readings on others and realized that my gift got stronger. My spirit guides are always with me and I can talk to them at any time. I have them here with me (ancestors included) to protect me, watch over me and give clarity to those I give readings to and converse with. The same tactics I would use when I was sick to experiment and talk with spirits that got me the wrong answers about my life are the same tactics I use to give what end up being accurate readings now.

Research sacred illness. It's a shaman term for an illness that ends up making you grow more than had you not had the illness. BiPolar is just a swing of moods from elated to depressed. Being schizophrenic is simply hearing voice and everything that comes with that. However according to shamans, individuals with this diagnosis are said to be gifted and a soon to be shaman of their own tribe.

So welcome to those suffering from mental illnesses. I'm here for you and I feel your energy stronger than anyone else. Normal people, from one wounded healer to another, I honor your presence. If you ever need a reading or someone to talk to you can go to my page here. (My reviews are on my FB page link at that site). No I'm not here to just take your money. it's not about the money for me but if I got paid to read I wouldn't have to do other things to make money, I could read. I'm an independent contractor so I make my own hours. Plus it's an exchange of energy. I'm tapping into the spirit realms when I read asking for answers from them. If they know that I'm being help with some type of exchange for helping another they would be more content. However I do give free readings!

Right now I'm offering 1 free question in exchange (get it?) for a review to celebrate the re-grand opening of offering readings for a fee. Again, reach out to me here if you would like a free question. There you can also again see my reviews. Overall though I will be giving readings (daily, pick a card, weekly) thoughts on here, music I'm listening to, reviews, pictures, etc. if you're still reading you should follow! I follow back! I think that's enough typing for now.

FREE & PAID READINGS

For my paid readings & reviews visit this website. (Reviews are on my FB.)

To get a free question answered (must be at least 18) message me on here. This is in exchange for a review on here or FB.

PEACE & LOVE.

[krs724490]

11.2.2024

post rayna

maybe I should have thought it through more. when I zoom out and think about it, it seems possibly like more trouble. it seems like a lot of work to re-entangle. but also I think I can hold is loosely. and if it works out it would be really nice.

script

I'm nervous to be here, but I also know what I need to say. As soon as we broke up I felt a giant wave of energy. Like I could really step into myself, prioritize myself, and ask myself what I really need. I felt super confident in myself to tackle life. I knew I was at the right job, in the right program, and that I was going to do amazing things. I could see my life was going to get better and it gave me so much energy. I even stopped emotionally eating. Like I just knew I didn't need food like that. I had a go-getter mentality of I can tackle the world and I know I can now that I have the energy and space. Its the best feeling in the world. I really love myself.

But mixed in with that energy was trying to sort out what happened with you. In my previous breakups, I just set them down. It was simple. I didn't ruminate. I just wiped my hands clean of them. But with this one I'm more stuck because we are so good together. Or we have some quality that just feels right, like we match each other on a certain level. So I thought regardless if we wouldve been good together, I need time to be alone. I need time to be single. I love being in my own energy and I can finally see clearly what I need. Plus you have your stuff to work through and it just isn't going to work.

Then I had therapy with rayna and I was relaying all of this back to her. the first thing I mentioned is was that its hard bc the more I sat and meditated with our whole situation, the more I realized that none of it was a deal breaker. like I was searching for a deal breaker, trying to tell myself you werent spiritual enough or that I really needed someone different, but I kept reaching the conclusion that none of it was deal breaking. bc then my brain goes maybe in a year or 2 well find our way back if the timing is right and we both haven't found anyone else. and I was just going to leave the timing up to god. and I told myself if I didn't end up with you then it would be someone better and the universe can decide if our timing works out. and I was just going to leave it at that.

then this is what rayna threw at me. she asked me if I wanted marriage and kids any time soon or had huge values around it. and I said no not any time soon and at this point I'm not sure about it. then she said she noticed something had shifted in me. I was more confident and clearly prioritizing myself and not ready to give that up any time soon. she said its possible to be in a relationship and still grow within yourself as long as you voice your needs and hold strong and independent... see this is where ill say, I'm not saying we should get back together. But I do have an idea if you would be open to it or this may not appeal to you in any way, but I felt like I had to talk to you about it to see. I was thinking we could date. not boyfriend and girlfriend necessarily, but like 1 date a week. and I dont want to re-intertwine our lives. I dont necessarily want to go to game night or events with your friends and be your full on girlfriend. but what if we took it super slow and just tried dating. and felt it out. and if I felt like I was losing myself again I would be able to pull back. and I dont really want to go meet your family or do anything a serious couple would. I just want to take things slow and feel it out. I feel like I can step into this differently now bc I'm prioritizing myself. I feel like I have myself back again and I would rather lose you than myself. so my preference is to really be light with this.

[charmybeeble]

SELF CARE TIPS FROM YOURS TRULY

🌱Advice 1!🌱 I really started to care for myself when I stopped seeing this as a chore; when I stopped seeing it like "taking care of myself now!"; but instead: "taking care of Charmybeeble!"

Essentially, I started to treat me like I was another person. like I was someone else. I hacked my own brain into thinking that caring for myself is caring for another person (a close one for example)!

I started to make me lunch thinking "oh! Im sure CharmyBeeble will love this pasta recipe! it has been a while!", "making my bed now will make CharmyBeeble happy later! they love curling in the mattress when its done!", ... and many other instances. 🌱Advice 2!🌱 I take one thing at a time, starting from the easiest task, up to the hardest for me ( making my bed -> cleaning the dishes...) It especially work if you find what triggers/annoys/demotivates you about a specific task!

for example: I really hate doing the dishes because I hates the moisty wet ass disgusting touch of left over food on my plates. I corrected this problem by doing the dishes with plastic gloves on! Same thing when I found it to be incredibly boring! I started to blast my best motivational tunes and singing at my heart's content while doing them! -> this is especially hard for me to do because of my ADHD, none gratifying tasks or not imediate gratifying tasks are real life hell to me. I am actively looking for ways to make it easier for me!! Tell me if this is something that interests you! I'll keep in touch 🌱Advice 3!🌱 maybe, ask for help if you can?

I know, I hate it too. But sometimes, when even getting out of bed is too hard, the good thing to do is to call for someone that can be there for us. Because in doing so, you stop beating yourself up about "oh god, I still have to wash my clothes, prepare my food...". It's okay. not taking care of yourself right now demands too much of your energy, and it's not being lazy or slacking off! no!! you legitimely do not have the energy left to do it. It's not a question of willpower here, it's okay

Because maybe we are not made to always take care of ourselves alone all the time of every day of our godamn life. and it's okay. Maybe certain tasks are made to be made with others? maybe relying on others is just as important as being independant? being vulnerable is not failing as a human being, it's okay. We all have our ups and down, and working through it with help is not to be ashamed of. it's okay to be human when just existing is tiring enough, it's okay. there is nothing to be ashamed of

Maybe you could try to apply this to yourself for a few weeks and see if it works for you? Hope this was helpfull!

lots of love and courage is coming your way!! hope you will be feeling good soon!

Do you guys have any tips on how to take care of yourself and your environment when you’re kind of at a low point where you have no energy to do anything...pls help

[sublimecatgalaxy]

Soft Place To Land- Part 2

Pairing: Fezco (Euphoria) x Reader

Summary: The reader goes into detail on her history with Fez and their breakup. After a week of utter misery, the reader gets a very helpful call from her gran. But when she's hanging up, she notices she has a missed call from someone a bit more intimidating.

Song: "transparentsoul" by WILLOW feat. Travis Barker

Word Count: 3.2k

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of sex and drugs, angst.

A/n: Sorry this is 12 hours late, I had a very long day yesterday and I figured I didn't want to put something out that was like 'half done'. I gotta do statistics homework now for a bit. Also I am so beyond sick today, so wish me luck.

Say anything you want about teen pregnancy and teen moms, but I think I was made for it. I had the energy, the ambition, the excitement after I got over the normal anxiety. I had the determination to be similar like my mom, to treat my child with nothing with respect and make sure that they grew up in a healthy, loving household. Though she lacked a father or a father figure, she had all of the support, love, care, and teachings from me, my grandmother and my mom.

What’s that saying?

It takes a village.

Fezco and I were messy from the beginning. We loved each other, sure, there was no doubt in that. But no one our age knew how to love or be loved. We were both still learning how to navigate the world at each other's sides, the drama of school, the issues at home, everything. It was safe to say that I didn’t have a glimmer of independence, always wanting to be with Fez, following him wherever he’d go. I was ignorant to the world but he wasn’, always knowing when and where to go, what to say. He taught me a lot about the people around us, who to trust and why, he taught me that family wasn’t just who your parents were. He taught me that, though he didn’t have a lot of words to offer, he was always watching and paying attention.

His job with drugs made it difficult for me to get super close to him, always worrying that he was out there, getting into trouble. Him and his younger brother were pretty much always out there, getting into trouble, so it wasn’t really new to me. I had tried to convince him to take a break, to relax, maybe think of doing something else with his time. He was smart, contrary to popular belief, and he could’ve been anything he wanted to. But he chose his grandma's lifestyle, a successful but scary life. But it was hard to relax in the time when I wasn’t with him, waiting by my phone as if I’d get a call from a hospital, telling me that they needed me to ID a body. I knew that it was always something that was possible. He would just all of a sudden vanish and be gone from my life.

I think that’s why I left. On top of the anxiety that I felt at that time in my life, I was afraid that the universe would play some cruel joke on me if I told him about the pregnancy and he decided to stay. It was a morbid thought, but with everything that I had gone through with him at that time, it was understandable. I would never forgive myself for breaking his heart how I did, and I could understand if he never spoke to me ever again.

Fez watches me carefully from across the room, his knees bouncing nervously under him. He can tell that I’m anxious, tears already streaming down my cheeks as he waits for me to speak up. I had ignored him for a few days, the news that I had to share weighing heavily on my shoulders. I didn’t know how to tell him, if I should even tell him in the first place. So, instead, my mom helped me come up with an idea that cuts us both off without me having to tell him the whole truth. It was for the best.

“Did you cheat on me?” He asks meekly and suddenly, his cheeks red as my jaw drops, my head shaking quietly. A look of relief passes over his face, his head bobbing in a quick nod of acknowledgment. “Thank fucking god.” He mutters, dragging a hand over his face as he lets out a relieved sigh. He stands up from his chair, my sniffles loud in the quiet room. Sitting down beside me, his arm wraps around my waist to pull me into him. “What’s wrong, ma?” He whispers, his fingers dancing over my cheek to pull me to him. I just shake my head, not wanting to tell him just yet but knowing I need to. I tuck my head into the crook of his neck, enjoying the proximity one last time. He just rubs my arm soothingly, his lips pressed against my forehead as he waits patiently. “You fuckin’ shaking, Y/n.” He mutters, pulling the blanket over my shoulders as I turn to him, his eyes soft and glossy.

He always hated seeing me upset, his eyebrows pulled together, lips pouted at the sight of my tears or discomfort. He had the special ability to read me like a book, knowing exactly how I felt and why. But I can tell that, this time, he couldn’t tell what had been upsetting me so much.

“I’m moving, Fez.” I whisper, reaching up to wipe my eyes as he shakes his head, not understanding. “I’m going to live with my gran.” I whimper, his body pulling away from me as realization slaps him across the face, his whole tough exterior crumbling.

“In Colorado?” He asks, his voice cracked and strained as he pieces together the lie that I was telling. He thinks for a moment, his head falling into his hands with a loud sigh. “So you tryna break up with me? That’s what this is? That’s why you crying?” He asks, my eyes shutting as my head rests against the back of the couch, not able to face him or his teary eyes. I knew that this would be the end, that he would never forgive me after this. Bile rises in my throat, the anxiety making my head spin as I stand. He watches me with his face twisted up in anguish, his blue eyes teary as he shrugs. He looks utterly confused and betrayed as he stands, his hands shaking at his side. “We’ll I’ll fuckin’ come with you, I don’t care-”

“Fez, you can’t.” I cry, my fists resting on his chest as I shake my head, my whole body exhausted from the anxiety that I had been feeling for the last week. “I just- I didn’t want to leave without talking to you.” I whimper, his hands reaching out to rest on my hips. Before he can get too close, I pull away quickly, not giving him another glance as I leave his home.

The amount of times that I almost turned around and told him, ‘I’m pregnant and I don’t want to lose you’, was ridiculous. I lied when I said that I never turned back, that I didn’t give it another thought. I did, more than one thought and I did turn back, twice. I turned the car around twice, planning on going back to his house, to let him comfort me, to explain why I lied and why I was so scared. But seeing his face last week, the look of excitement when he first realized it was me but then the utter betrayal that passed through him, it solidified that I should’ve just turned the car around.. It was heartbreaking to see him piece together the lie that I created, the lie that he believed.

He hasn’t texted me since I unblocked him. I would be ignorant to ignore the disappointment that I felt after the first few days of no text or call. He didn’t owe me anything, in fact he had every right to never speak to me ever again. But the thought of him having the ability to message me about us, our child, and him choosing not to… It made my heart break all over again. And maybe I deserved it.

Lily rests on my chest, her back rising and falling in quiet breaths as she sleeps. She refused to sleep anywhere else, her body curled up on mine as the TV plays quietly in the background. It’s around seven o’clock, past her bedtime but every time I tried to place her in her bed, she would just cry out, her hands reaching out to me. I’ve always had a hard time separating myself from her when she obviously wanted to just be with her mama, so I almost always gave in.

The ringing of my phone startles me, my hand quickly fishing it out from between the cushions in order to not wake the sleeping child. My excitement that it might be Fez fizzles out as I see my grandma’s name across the screen. Answering in, I place the phone between my ear and shoulder, rubbing Lily’s back soothingly.

“Hiya, gran.” I whisper softly, the woman huffing on the other end. I know that she was probably disappointed in my lack of communication but she knew that I would be busy with my mom and Lily, getting reacquainted with the town.

“You gonna tell me why you regretted to inform me that you saw and spoke to that baby daddy of yours?” She asks sassily, my eyes rolling as I silently note to punch my mom the next time that I saw her. I knew that after I called my mom after Fez and I spoke that she would immediately go to her mom. “Tell me about it.” She offers in a softer tone, Lily shifting in my lap as I slide her off of me, pulling the blanket over her. I make my way quietly out to the balcony of my apartment, shutting the door tightly behind me. The cool air hits my skin, a breath of relief leaving my lips as I think of what to tell her. Do I tell her that I’ve cried every day since I saw him? Or do I tell her that I was beyond excited to talk to him and see him?

“He was excited to see me at first.” I smile, my elbows resting against the railing as I recall his face, his smile, his nervous blushing. I always had that effect on him. “Then he realized that I was holding a kid who looked exactly like him.” I huff, a small laugh leaving her lips at my words. “She really does gran, the freckles , the smile- everything.” I conclude, my eyes fluttering shut as I try to escape the guilt that consumes me. She continues with her questions and prying, not knowing what of what my mother said was true.

My eyes look out at the city in front of me, my mind spinning as I find it difficult to find a place where Fez and I haven’t gone. We would spend hours and hours on end exploring the city, whether it be on his bike, in his car, skateboards, anything. We’d smoke at the park to my left, we’d eat copious amounts of chinese food at the place across the street; anywhere that I can see, we’ve made our own. I knew that this would be something I would struggle with when I made the decision to come back home, but I didn’t think it would hit me this hard.

“Do you think he wants to be a part of Lily’s life?” Gran asks cautiously, my teeth biting at my lip anxiously. I had thought about it, sure. That Fez would call me, telling me he misses me and that he wants to be a family. That he wants to take care of Lily and I so we’d never have to worry about anything ever again. But it just seemed impractical.

“I don’t know, gran. I’ll let you know if he magically wants to be in my life. Or Lily’s life.” I sigh, my gran picking up on the fact that this is probably the last thing I wanted to talk about. She sighs sadly, my legs carrying me over to the chair in the corner so I can sulk. Plopping down onto the soft material, my head rests against the concrete wall, my heart heavy.

“Okay, honey. Just make sure you’re taking care of yourself. I can imagine that you’re stressed.” She coos, a soft smile spreading across my cheeks as I nod, sending her hum of acknowledgement. Feeling my phone buzz against my cheek, I pull back to see another call coming in.

Shit.

“Hey, gran, I gotta go. I’ve got another call.” Before I can hear her response, I drop the call, feeling the well known anxiety bubble in my stomach. I see Fez’s number flash over my screen as my stomach drops, my finger hovering over the answer button. This was what I had been waiting for, right? Pressing accept, my voice comes out in a meek, strained tone. “Fez?” I ask quietly, my whole body tensing as I hear him clear his throat.

“I’m still pissed at you.” He starts off, my breathing speeding up as I wait for him to go on, knowing his words are nothing but true and that I deserved them. “But I can’t just fucking sit over here and act like you’re not here. With my- our kid.” He sighs with a quiet laugh, my heart leaping at the sound of him laughing. I expected him to yell at me, tell me that I ruined his life, that I’m a terrible human. The last thing I expected was for him to chuckle.

“Yeah...” I whisper, it being the only word that’ll leave my lips. The line goes silent for a few moments, my throat aching to tell him everything that I’ve been thinking about within the last week. I missed you, I wish I could hug you, I want to tell you everything that’s happened to me and to Lily. I want to let you in. “Just talked to gran.” I mutter, a chuckle leaving my lips as I clear my throat. “Apparently she talked to my mom- you know how that goes.” He laughs, knowing that he had seen how my mom and gran gang up on me, sharing secrets and taking me off guard. They had done it plenty of times to Fez too, my gran loving the ginger.

“I’m guessin’ your ma told your gran shit that wasn’t true so your gran called you to clear the air?” Fez asks, a giggle bubbling in my chest as I nod. “That’s what I thought.” My knees tuck up to my chest as I bite my lip, my heart swelling at the sound of his voice. “So, uh,” he pauses nervously and hesitantly, “how’s Lily?” He asks, his voice shaking as I smile, my eyes flickering over to the girl who’s sound asleep on the couch.

“Passed the fuck out. Drooling” I chuckle, my head shaking as she curls into herself. “She wouldn’t go to sleep at her normal bed time so I just held her for a while, then she fell asleep no problem.” I explain in a hushed whisper, knowing that if I was too loud, she would wake up. His chuckles are heard across the line as I picture him sitting on his couch, a smile on his lips as he talks to me.

“Father like daughter, I guess, huh?” He laughs, my mind flickering back to all the times that he fell asleep in my arms, it being the safest place in the world to him. I would joke that he was like a baby, needing arms around him to be able to relax enough to fall asleep. My face falls slightly, Fez stuttering when he realizes the weight behind his words. “Sorry, shit- that was weird.” He laughs nervously, my eyes fluttering shut as I shake my head.

“No, it’s alright.” I respond in a hushed voice, trying my best to reassure him, my hand rubbing over my face. “You have every right to be angry at me- to hate me- Fez. In fact, I want you to be angry with me.” I laugh, the sky darkening above me as he scoffs, the words being utterly ridiculous to him.

“You know better than anyone that it’s hard for me to stay mad at you.” He whispers, a soft smile fanning over my lips as he continues. My cheeks warm at his gentle tone, almost as if he wanted to reassure me, to let me know that he was mad but not mad enough to hate me. “I want you to, uh, come over. For dinner sometime.” He offers in a soft voice, my eyes widening in shock at the request. That had to be the most shocking thing to leave his lips, it truly being the last thing I was expecting. Was this the olive branch that I’ve been in need of? My breath gets lodged in my throat as I nod, my words stuck at the tip of my tongue. “Unless you think that’s weird and shit. I just wanna see you a-and Lily and I just-”

“We’ll be there.” I cut his nervous rambling off, knowing it could’ve gone on for hours had I let him continue. He doesn’t speak, just fumbles a bit with his words as I laugh. “We’ll be there, Fez.” I repeat, a small surprised gasp coming from his end.

“Really? Cuz I’ll cook and shit, like, whatever you want.” He adds quietly and I can tell that he’s surprised that I agreed at all, let alone that excitedly. Of course I’d let him cook me dinner and get to know Lily. “Alright- shit.” I giggle at his words, my cheeks heating up in nervous excitement. “Tomorrow?” He offers, his voice cracking a bit as hum.

“Yeah, that sounds good. She’ll be excited to have something to do.” I chuckle, watching her roll over not so gracefully on the couch. I know that he’d absolutely love her, the two of them getting along better than I can imagine. They were so similar, their minds and heart, they were both just so good. I can already picture him with her, giggles leaving her lips as he smiles. The thought makes me excited beyond measurable belief.

“I’m, uh, excited to see you guys.” He whispers, my lip tucking in between my teeth as I conceal my grin as best I can. “We should probably catch up or somethin’.” He adds, the tone of his voice shifting to something different, something lighter and playful. I wanted to know anything and everything that had happened to him since I had been gone. With his work, his brother, his grandma, school or lack of school, relationships.

“Yeah, Fez, I’d love that.” My eyes flutter down to my lap, surprised that this is where this conversation went.

“Alright, ma.” The nickname makes my thighs clench, a soft snort coming across the line. I knew that it was probably second nature to him, almost like muscle memory when speaking with me. The idea of him being relaxed enough to let that slip out makes me want to giggle like crazy. “Sorry, shit- I should go before I fuckin’ embarrass myself.” He mutters with a sheepishly chuckle, my cheeks hurting from my growing smile. . “I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/n.” He concludes, his voice calm and collected as I nod, tears filling my eyes out of relief.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow, Fez.”

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

Taglist: @bubblebuttwade @rafelover2405 @leslienjazzy @sorceresss @grxnde-dwt @alex--awesome--22 @bunnietoof @niyamar1e @serialghost @plantlungs @geniusohn @akaliltimmytim @lilaalouuxx @xshariex @elliotsbeigeguitar @elle4404 @lelieja @srhxpci @joselyn001 @taysirene @spinkspanther @thedivineuphoria @peter-maximoffs @tsukishimawhore @poohkie90 @szlaco @distantsighs @nstyles4299 @wolflover384 @givemefoodandlovesstuff @vane28282 @yeswhatever33 @amirrahfranson @vvaalleennttiinna @f-mu @yaspillz @jeyramarie @skylievin@abbybarnes17 @jointherebellion215 @visiondaddy @steezysimfinds @its-ya-gay-boi-luigi @crunchytoenailsyum@glizzymcguirex @beth123lg @melovesmut @rafecameronswhore @ariianelle @write-from-the-heart @vampviolets@haylee-e

Euphoria Taglist: @bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx@ssprayberrythings @username-lols @pessimisticbiitch @urmomsangel @rosepetalsparks@bluetreecloud20 @scenesofobx

Series Taglist: @bigpoppajes @namjoonsbuspass

Fezco Taglist:@fudgemesteveharrington @hy-my-name-is-riley @trinbby13 @squishiejiminiee

[ramblingguy54]

Sonic & Tails R: A Love Letter To Miles Tails Prower’s Characterization

     Warning: This will contain massive spoilers for the short radio play series of Sonic & Tails R. If you haven’t listened to the radio play yet on Youtube, I’d highly recommend any hardcore Sonic fan who hasn’t seen it check it out. It’s one Hell of a treat.

     For as far back as I can remember in my childhood, Tails’ story of trying to step outta Sonic’s shadow has been such a resonating one for myself. Even when I was a much younger kid playing my Dreamcast, during entries like Sonic Adventure 1 & 2, there was some idea lingering about why Tails just stood out more emotionally in his journey to grow beyond depending on Sonic all the time for help. Now here I am a young adult in my late twenties having such a deeper appreciation of this little two tailed genius kiddo because he’s got an important element that’s made him so beloved for good reason.

     In spite of his genius being a rival to that of Eggman’s high IQ and of course proving to surpass it plenty of times when scenarios boil down to being a high stakes battle, Miles Tails Prower beneath it all is still just like any one of us. We’re all trying to find our place in this world about what defines us for who we are as unique people. He wants to be more than just seen as someone who’s alongside Sonic The Hedgehog’s never say die attitude, but prove he’s plenty capable of standing on his own two feet to protect everything the kid holds dear to himself. Underdog stories, when they’re naturally executed very well, can reel me in so easily. They are very much my bread & butter trope I adore seeing.

     To no one’s surprise, the two Sonic Adventure’s iterations portrayal of Tails’ characterization are hands down some of my favorite writing for the two tailed fox, regarding what the 3D era has done toward him, development wise. It gave him more of an existential struggle to endure like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t around to help stop Eggman? What if I’m not strong enough to accomplish what he can?”, making Tails plight to be seen as an equal all the more endearing when stopping Eggman in his climatic battle against the Egg Walker in Station Square. This here is a great use of a timeless lesson you can apply in life that if you set you heart and mind on anything, there isn’t a thing you can’t accomplish on your own, which is why many fell in love with Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s writing for Miles Tails Prower’s journey of independence.

     As someone who comes from a large family tree of relatives, I feel the weight of my existence on my shoulders at a number of points more than I’d care to count, admittedly. Seeing Tails struggle with his sense of purpose, in contrast to observing how much Sonic has accomplished with his carefree, yet deeply compassionate attitude, means the world to me in watching another trying to comprehend their value as a whole on how much they matter, overall. This is a big part of why my fondness for SA1 & 2′s quality has never wavered over these years, besides still obviously enjoying most of their game play mechanics. People can try to debate to their heart’s content on whether the Adventure games still hold up in their own eyes, but I’ll always respect them for how they tried to develop certain characters, such as Tails, Gamma, and Shadow The Hedgehog notably, to attempt expanding upon their characters, as well as world building.

     I won’t bother going into a rant about how Sonic’s recent 3D games have butchered Tails’ personality & relatable nature, due to the current writers in charge of handling the cast of characters. More or less, I greatly empathize toward the notion many have already stated about Tails being so cowardly and God forbid, looking at Lost World, downright severely mean spirited. Rather, I’m obviously writing this lengthy post to breakdown why Sonic & Tails R succeeds, where these certain 3D games have greatly faltered in exploring Tails’ emotional dilemmas as an insecure, yet still having the courage to prove himself, talented boy full of hidden potential he doesn’t quite realize, until his back is against the wall in life threatening situations.

“That day, I realized I couldn’t depend on you forever. Not that I can’t depend on you, but like, “What happens when Sonic isn’t here?”, you know?”

     Sonic & Tails R further delves into this fundamental rule of what has defined Tails in Sonic Adventure 1 & 2′s stories of events where Sonic wasn’t there to aid his best bud in taking down Eggman’s evil efforts for global domination, most importantly his fear of defending the Earth without his role model. Besides what I already stated in SA1′s events in Station where he stopped the Egg Walker, as well as the missile Eggman launched from detonating before their climatic battle, Tails watched Sonic blow up in ARK’s capsule presuming him to be dead after Sonic imparted how much faith he has in the kid’s abilities to be truly strong in the face of any foe. Sonic & Tails R manages to use fan service in a way that doesn’t feel like “pandering” for the sake of it, using this past canon material to do more of an in-depth study about Miles’ anxieties of existing without Sonic.

     Wouldn’t put it past them if EmuEmi & crew were using SA2′s Sonic death fake out scene in that space capsule to further add trauma to Tails’ psychological attachment to Sonic, as well as his insecurities of depending on him too much, to boot. While it’s never obviously outright stated in their radio play, I definitely believe they were factoring this element into adding dramatic exploration for why Tails is so self-conscious about the worst case scenario of permanently losing Sonic. Watching Sonic supposedly die put Tails into a deeper state of self-reflection, so I very much enjoyed how they went using these past events to create a thorough exploration about him learning just as it’s important to realize you need to stand up for yourself without using someone else as a crutch all the time, it’s doubly important to remember there’s nothing wrong about asking someone for help when you’re about to be down and out with little options left.

     Sonic & Tails R beautifully builds upon the foundation these two games’ stories left behind years ago, creating new damn great material to explore with the most iconic characters of this cast, Sonic & Tails brotherly dynamic. I’ve been praising Sonic & Tails R out the wazoo for how well it captured Tails underdog story of overcoming death defying odds, but it managed to remind me how simply adorable and outright wonderfully endearing their brotherly chemistry is as a whole. This is a big friendly reminder Sonic isn’t all about being cocky wise cracking character making meta jokes left and right, but he can be plenty capable of showing serious compassion to anyone he values as an ally and friend. This is no greater evident, than with him verbally lifting Tails up in his time of need when he’s self-depreciating his own significance. It can be seen in Episodes 2, 4, and 7 giving Tails motivational pieces of advice.

    Episode 2 In Adabat’s Cavern

-Sonic: Wasn’t it your radar that helped us find these Emerald shards in the first place? How could you be slowing us down when you’ve gotten us this far?

-Tails: But, I...

-Sonic: I could never make something like that. You’re the smartest person I know, Tails. One way or another, we’ll figure this out, count on it.

         Episode 4 In Holoska After Helping Silver Save The Chao

-Sonic: So, what was that back there? At the cave, in Adabat? -Tails: What do you mean? -Sonic: Frozen stiff. Confidence shot. It’s not like you. It was more than feeling like you were “slowing us down”, right?

        Episode 7 Inside The Egg Carrier 3

-Sonic: Let’s split up! I’ll distract them and you can go after the energy source. -Tails: You’re gonna take them on all by yourself!? Let me help, Sonic! -Sonic: No time for this, Tails. Stop overthinking and just go! If I can get their attention, I’ll take the heat off of you and that room you’re going to probably won’t have any security. Take this emerald and I’ll take the other one we have. It’ll lead me right to you after I beat these guys. -Tails: O-Okay... -Sonic: Hold on, Tails! Listen to me. Don’t stop moving and be careful. I’ll be fine and so will you!

     Sonic & Tails R remembers the most crucial detail of their important relationship. One isn’t better than the other and needing to always rely upon that notion for helping one outta a jam, but instead showcases how they’re equals as a team/bros. Sonic may be super fast and strong, however Tails has his intelligence to analyze situations in a different angle Sonic wouldn’t necessarily consider, per say. Which isn’t to say Tails couldn’t put up a fight either, as we’ve seen in SA1 & SA2′s stories where he faced Eggman one on one with no outside help to best him at his own game of wits & strength.

     We get see the apex of this idea through Tails facing Eggman in his super improved mecha walker. Although Tails may get thrown for a loop here at first by Eggman, it’s his villainous speech about winners and losers in their world that ironically does the exact opposite of what he intended. Eggman wanted to crush Tails’ sense of self worth before finishing him off, but all it did was reignite the very lesson Sonic told him earlier before running to distract Eggman’s robotic minions. That said lesson of he’s more than capable of facing dangerous threats

-Eggman: Poor boy. We all have to learn this lesson, sooner or later. In every game there’s no one you can depend on. You’re all alone and you’re either a winner, or a loser. And as you know, loser’s lose all of their lives. Say goodbye, fox!

-Tails: You’re wrong! I can depend Sonic! I won’t let him down! I can’t because...Because he’s depending on me! And because of that I won’t lose to you!

     This radio play strikes a good balance in utilizing the grey moral area about depending on someone vs it being an unhealthy display of attachment derived from serious insecurity. Word’s can’t begin to describe how much I loved this moment to pieces because it’s oh so important for writing Tails’ characterization. If you’re going to tackle him being super self conscious about his reliance on Sonic, then you gotta remember why they are so close to one another to begin with. Sonic & Tails have an unbreakable connection, considering they’ve brought out their best qualities in themselves from being together as individuals. For Sonic, it’s his older brother compassion to Tails to bring him outta feeling melancholy. For Tails, the kid finally understands there isn’t anything wrong with depending on Sonic when he needs it most.

     After all, that’s what a real healthy friendship is all about. Whether you’re giving someone a dose of tough love, or simply a piece of motivational advice, it defines how much you truly care about someone, period. Sonic & Tails have this very same power from their bond, which is why new emeralds form from their compassionate friendship that hasn’t been shaken after all the years they’ve been together. Another detail worth noting is it adds to the lore in an impactful manner when Tikal expresses in Episode 8 about positive connections and thoughts from users of the Chaos Emeralds having a strong will & heart. Using the ideas they had for encapsulating Sonic & Tails’ dynamic to create new emeralds from their love for each other as brothers adds an emotional weight.

“So, Sonic’s not the only one who harness the power of the Chaos Emeralds? I can too!?”

“Yes, you have a strong heart! There is a power waiting to be unlocked within you, as well.”

          I’d always daydreamed about in my childhood seeing Super Sonic & Tails take down a threatening villain, whether it was Eggman or different powerful creature such as Chaos or the Biolizard. You can imagine how fucking giddy I was beyond belief to see this artwork of Episode 9′s cover for the radio play. Tails not only got to have another one on one with Eggman, but a team up with Super Sonic in his own respective Super form? Sign me the Hell up! Talk about an all you eat buffet of good writing for Tails’ journey reaching its climax. Getting to hear this play out, alongside the amazing song of Fly With Me, made it authentically feel like something straight outta if there were an installment of Sonic Adventure 3 being brought into reality, which certainly feels like it now.

     Episode 9 has so much awesome stuff with Sonic & Tails working together in their super forms. Particularly, my favorite scene is at the beginning when Sonic teaches Tails how to navigate his newly acquired speed in his respective Super form. My heart melted hearing Sonic help Tails through it all, while he was overjoyed about how fun this new form is for himself. Wholesome Sonic & Tails content is the perfect daily serotonin for me, easily. It’s an awesome fun fact to know they used a scrapped boss from Tails Tornado segment in SA1 for Eggman’s flying dragon three headed robot in their big final battle, once again using old canon material in a very effective manner to boost the quality of their fan made story.

     It’s been a real thrill to hear Mike Pollock play a straight forward serious Eggman making my day in more ways than one, considering that’s another thing I’ve been yearning for desperately besides Tails being a competent character again. His performance in Episode 9 when Eggman gave that speech about how long he’s been at odds with Sonic & Tails stubborn will power was simply excellent. The moment he told his mechanical dragon to crush them I got serious chills. That’s the Eggman I remember and grew up with. He could be a hammy villain sure, but Eggman wasn’t a doormat that could be swiftly beaten. Robotnik can be considered a serious threat in his own right and this radio play nailed it down to the very letter with how much he predicted their actions.

“Sonic, all I ever wanted to do was be like you. You’re not scared of anyone or anything. I could never be like that. At least, so I thought. I grew from that, but then I got so caught up in trying to prove it that thought it wasn’t okay to depend upon anyone, especially you. I just didn’t want to be that scared little kid in Station Square anymore, but now I understand. It’s okay to depend on your friends. It all means is that we’re stronger together, so the next time Eggman comes back and wants to start any trouble with you, or any of my friends. Emeralds or no emeralds, he’s gonna have to get past me and he won’t!”

Sonic By Episode 1′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here we come!

Tails By Episode 10′s End: Aww, yeah! Adventure, here I come!

Turn your thoughts into power. Be all that you can be.

     The ending legit got me choked up because what of they decided to do for wrapping up Tails journey in a poetic fashion. Having Tails go off on his own separate journey to grow more independence pulled on my heart strings perfectly. Very much so, as I’m transitioning slowly, but surely, into gaining more freedom to go out into the outside world in my own life. Concluding the story, by Sonic & Tails holding onto the two Emeralds their bond had formed from positive energy, due to their powerful friendship, was so heartwarming. This is how you write an overview of what makes Sonic & Tails chemistry work so well as it does.

     Sonic & Tails R’s ending represents while some things never change, like Sonic and Tails bond for each other, it also shows there’s very much a necessity for people to grow, hence Tails’ whole solo journey in the epilogue. People can’t stay in the same place forever and will need go about finding their own path, even if it means saying “goodbye” periodically for a notable amount of time.

     It’s for these reasons I’ve listed in great explanation above throughout this detailed post cement Sonic & Tails R high on my list of favorite Sonic fan projects. They captured the magic of what made the Adventure games so beloved. Gonna be looking back on this passion project for many years to come. Everyone involved in this year long effort of a project dating all the way back Summer of 2020 ought to be immensely proud for how much their hard efforts paid off in the long run.

Thanks for taking the time to read my thoughts here! 

Hope you enjoyed. 

[sadachmesarthim]

bingo fill two: cum fetish

content: peter being a Sudden Service Top, shy!tony, tony being an Absolute Whore 

hope you enjoy <333 

Peter was nothing, if not a man of science. Above all else, he cared about thorough investigation and novel discovery.

So when he realized what a cumslut Tony Stark was... He decided to experiment.

They hadn't been together long - they'd danced around each other for years, finally caving when Peter finished undergrad. It was a comfortable type of love - something you see in old movies, or cheesy romance novels.

But the sex... Jesus christ, the sex.

Peter hadn't had much time for... self discovery, while in school. Between patrol, double majoring in biochem and genetics, and maintaining a semidecent sleep schedule, there wasn't really opportunity for him to date or fuck around.

So when he came back to Manhattan, and they finally quit mooning over each other... needless to say, Tony hadn't had that much sex since his twenties.

It was generally kind of nice. Tony was sweet, gentle in his love making. Peter preened under the attention, sure - there was nothing wrong with their sex life. But Peter could tell Tony wanted something different.

When he brought it up, Tony turned bright red, stumbling over his words.

"It's not... There's nothing wrong, honey, really, I promise. I just... Sometimes I wish I was in your... position." This left Peter confused. "You... You want to bottom?" He'd never mentioned anything about it before.

Peter's tone didn't help Tony's blush, nor did it make him feel better about the whole ordeal. "Listen it's not... It's not an issue really and I don't... I don't have to. Seriously, if you're not comfortable we-" Peter stopped him mid sentence.

"Okay, no, that's not what I said at all. I just didn't know what you meant, Tony, let's take a step back." His hands immediately went to Tony's shoulders, bringing the older man back to the present. Grounding. "I love you, you know that right?"

Tony relaxed in his grip, taking a deep breath. "I know, I know, and I love you too. I just... It's embarrassing." Peter cocked his head, still not following. "You gotta use your words, T, or I can't give you what you want."

He closed his eyes, thumbs stroking over Peter's knuckles. He could do this, he could do this.

"I... So you know how you got bit by the spider, right?" Peter was very aware. He was also aware of just how bad Tony was stalling.

"Tony if you don't just spit it out I swear to go-"

"I want to see how much cum you can fit inside me!" He broke. With Peter holding him, right up in his face, he couldn't do it, couldn't hold it in anymore.

He slid to his knees, head falling into his hands. "I just... You can go so much, and sometimes when I'm fucking you I get to thinking.. How many times could you go in one night? How much could you produce? A few ounces? A cup? More? Makes me cum so quick just thinkin' about it, even in my old age. Can't stop thinkin' about it, about you fillin' me up like that. I can't do it anymore.

"It makes me feel like a gross old man, you know? Thinking about you like that? About you using me like a toy? It drives me crazy but I can't stop, can't keep it in anymore." He was shaking, unable to stop himself once he started.

Peter's eyes were wide, mind racing to process what Tony was saying. The bite had impacted their sex life - he could rebound almost instantly, and he did... produce more than the average twenty-something.

He sat down next to Tony, cradling him. "That's all you had to say, baby, it's okay. Shh shh, you're okay." he rubbed circles into Tony's shoulder, kissing his temple. "You know I'd never judge you for wanting something, right?"

Tony sighed. He knew that, logically, of course. His anxiety around admitting it didn't listen to logic, though, and it was hard to override that. "I know. I know. I love you. I'm sorry for freaking out."

Peter just kissed him again. "It's okay, T."

•|||•

Peter waited a few weeks before bringing it up again - both for Tony's benefit, and his.

He'd spent a long time digging through medical journals, doing independent research... He even made a (very awkward) call to Dr. Strange.

It didn't take him long to create a game plan: he needed to double his water intake, get more leafy greens and ripe fruit in. It wasn’t difficult - he had to shift around some of his calories, sure, but he made it work.

The worst part was not orgasming. He and Tony'd resumed their normal sexual activities a few days after their... discussion. But Peter made it a point not to cum - he wanted to build up as much as possible.

Even worse - he was edging himself several times a day. Massaging his prostate, sleeping with Tony, jerking off until just on this side of orgasm in the shower... He made it a point to work himself up and then leave himself there. He'd read several articles that talked about edging and semen production, and they all agreed - the less you cum, the more you produce and retain.

So he went with it. For the better part of a month - he didn't cum.

Tony, initially questioned it - but with some solid reassurances, and promises that Peter had "something exciting" in store, he let up. Getting him on the edging process was fun too - enough spice to keep Tony entertained until Peter was ready.

And ready, he was.

•|||•

He decided on a Friday night - that way they'd have all weekend to recover (or continue, if Tony wanted).

He made a real spectacle of it, too - stocking them with water bottles and easy snacks, bringing in a bunch of clean towels and leaving them at the foot of the bed. He wanted this to be good for Tony, and part of that was being ready for anything.

He waited until Tony was finished with work to bring it up. He didn't want Tony to be distracted at all, and he knew exactly how much anticipation can hinder daily activities.

When Tony walked through the doors of the penthouse, he could tell something was up.

It wasn't like Peter to be so... Flighty.

He was walking circles around the bar, drink in hand. Tony couldn't tell whether or not it was a drink drink, but it didn't matter... If Peter was up and pacing like this, there was definitely something up.

"Hey baby, how was your day?" Okay, yeah, something's definitely up. Peter never asked - he always waited for Tony to start - always gave Tony the opportunity to either vent about, or forget entirely, the day he'd just finished.

Tony dropped his suit jacket on the bar chair, walking back to meet Peter where he stood. He grabbed Peter's face in his hands, kissing down from his forehead to his lips. Peter sighed into the contact, relaxing immediately. "It was okay. What's got you all tense like this?"

Peter exhaled sharply before responding. "You know how you... brought up that thing, a few weeks ago? That thing you wanted to try?" Tony hesitated, eyes narrowing. "I... Yeah. Why?"

Peter blushed under the scrutny. "I've... Well, you know how I've been working on that thing? Not... not coming? I wanted to surprise you... And I think today'd be a good day." Tony was confused now. "You... you wanna try it? Topping, I mean?"

Peter snorted. "Not just topping, silly. That thing you specifically mentioned - seeing how much I could make, for you? I've been keepin' myself on edge, saving up all my cum for you." Tony shivered, goosebumps forming down the entire length of his arms. Peter's breath left his hair on edge, his words burning straight through Tony.

"I... I remember. Are- are you sure? Like I said, I mean, we don't hav-" Peter cut him off almost immediately.

"If I didn't want to do it, baby, why would I bring it up? Why would I spend almost a month edging myself for you? Why would I spend a month intentionally eating semen-enhancing foods, hmm? You think I was doing all that stuff for the hell of it?" Tony blushed at the words, head dropping to Peter's shoulder. "No, of course not, I ju-"

"You need to stop making excuses." Peter pulled back, meeting Tony's eyes. "If I didn't want to do this, I wouldn't have brought it up. Wouldn't have spent so long making sure I was full enough, had enough for you. You know how long it's been since I've cum, T, baby? Twenty seven days. It's been twenty seven days of edging, of producing this-" he reached down, gently cupping his own balls through his shorts "- for you? All of this cum, just waiting for you, waiting for your pretty hole?" Tony shivered at the words. Fuck, Peter knew exactly how to work him up.

"I'm sorry, baby, I just- this is a lot. So much, Pete, you gotta know that." His vulnerability was aparent.

"I know, Tones. We can go slow if you want - we won't do anything. Just want to show you i'm willing." Peter's tone was gentle, reassuring. It helped Tony immesurably.

"I- okay. I want to. Try, I mean. I trust you, we just gotta.. Gotta go slow. I'm an old man, you know." Peter knew it was said in jest, but Tony would always have a soft spot in his heart. "Not that old," he poked.

Tony bit back with a kiss, forgoing words he wasn't sure he could find. It was slow, soft at first - a thank you for everything Peter did for him, for the whole situation.

Peter responded eagerly, taste of grenadine and carbonation on his lips. Thank god, he hadn't been drinking. Something Tony'd always appreciate - Peter's sober excitement. The energy he put into their relationship. The devotion. He balanced Tony out perfectly. 

Peter nipped at his bottom lip. It was sweet - playful, but it made the whole thing so much more intense. Tony responded in kind, licking into his mouth. He pulled a quiet moan from Peter, seizing the opportunity to meet the other's tongue. Passion always took a while to build with them - reverence and love always taking priority.

Today, though... Today was different.

Tony's mind was still going steady, trying to process exactly what they were about to do. Peter really wanted to try this with him. It was groundbreaking.

He felt the excitement burn low in his stomach. He'd always had a thing for cum - whether it was his inside someone, or vice versa - there was just something so visceral about it. Watching it slowly drip from someone's hole, sucking it out, sharing it. The idea of breeding someone, of being bred, having cum forced inside him over and over again, without consequence...

He'd tried to keep his love for it under wraps - Pepper had no real want for children, and god forbid he get wrapped up in a custody battle. He hadn't messed around with other men since his twenties, either, so the opportunity to explore this side of him just... never came up.

But now, with Peter - his most beloved supertwink with a refactory period of, like, -1, and his enhanced output... the possibilities washed over him.

He hadn't realized just how turned on it made him until Peter separated them, hands toying with Tony's waistband. The sudden lack of lips on his gave him the opportunity to express his appreciation - several broken moans escaping him. "Oh god, Peter, baby please."

He never claimed to be above begging, but he didn't do it often. It was a sight to behold, and with Peter being on a hair trigger...

Peter reached up, grabbing Tony by the throat. "What do you want, love? Use your words, tell me. Can't give you what you want if you don't use your words, Tony."

Tony dropped his head, gasping into Peter's neck. "Please, Peter, baby. I need you to fuck me."

Peter laughed, breathy. "Can't hear you, baby. Come on, come up and tell me what you want."

Tony looked up, shaky exhale falling onto Peter's lips. "I. Need you. To fuck me. Please, Pete?" His request was met with a smile. "Of course, baby."

Peter reached down and hooked under Tony's thighs, lifting him up like he weighed nothing. Tony often forgot about Peter's strength when they weren't in the field - feeling weightless like this, safe in Peter's arms? It was erotic, it was safe, it was everything. "Oh, god."

Peter took them to the bedroom, carefully setting Tony down on the bed.

Tony reached his arms up, snaking around Peter's neck. He brought them together for another kiss, not wanting to lose contact with Peter.

Peter chuckled, carefully peeling Tony away from him. "We can't do this if you don't let me get naked, T. Be patient." Tony rolled his eyes, allowing his fists to fall back to the bed. "Been patient, need you now." Peter tossed his shirt to the floor before dignifying Tony with a response.

"Don't talk to me about patient, mister. I've gone almost a month without coming, how do you think I feel?" He finished removing his jeans, leaving him in nothing but strained boxer briefs. Tony could see the outline of his cock, already leaking. He was nearly as hard in his own pants - which he was suddenly excited to remove.

Peter, perceptive as always, walked toward Tony and began helping him strip. Now shirtless, Tony reached up to place his hands on Peter's chest. He planted small kisses all over it, worshipping the man in front of him. Peter threaded his fingers through Tony's hair, enjoying the attention. "I thought this was about you, baby. Why you takin' your time with me?"

Tony looked up, smiling at the man above him. "Just thankful, is all. Love you." Peter cupped the sides of his face, reaching down and kissing Tony reverently. "Anything for you, baby. Anything. Now, let's get you out of those pants." Tony fiddled with his zipper, tugging the slacks down to his ankles before kicking them to the side. Now in a similar state as Peter, he felt so much more open, exposed. They were really about to do this. Peter had prepared for this. His dream was finally coming true.

He inhaled sharply, feeling the flush of arousal reach his cock. It was so intense, so much all at once - he felt high. This was definitely not an experience he planned on forgetting anytime soon.

Peter straddled him, shifting them back and up the bed. He met Tony halfway, sighing into the kiss. It was firey, full of hunger - neither really wanted to wait anymore.

Peter pulled back, meeting Tony's eyes. "Are you ready? You sure about this?" Tony nodded his head, mind too cloudy to use words right away. He was ready about this, so fucking ready.

His face must've said everything - Peter quickly helped him out of his boxers, sliding them down and tossing them next to the towels. He grabbed the bottle of lube he set out, wetting his fingers thoroughly before reaching down.

Tony'd opted to lay on his front, knees tucked under his hips for better access. Thank god for a nanite bed - they'd developed the tech to aid healing times and recovery after surgery and intense (battles) workouts, but quickly discovered the many sexual uses for it - one of which being added support for Tony's joints.

Peter traced over his hole, toying with him a moment. He very rarely topped in general, but he'd be willing to do it for the rest of his life if it meant he could see Tony like this. He was already so sensitive, gasping and rocking back into the attention. Peter laughed, gripping Tony's hip harder and steeling him before teasing his rim. He was so gentle - just barely dipping in with his index finger before massaging around and pulling back out. He wanted this to be good for Tony, not just a check off his bucket list.

Tony keened, hips pushing back into Peter's fingers. Greedy. "Relax, T. Let me do the work, okay baby?" All he received was a high whimper in response.

Peter laughed, rolling his eyes as he finally gave Tony what he wanted - he thrust two fingers in, careful not to go too deep to fast. Tony moaned, pitchy and high in his throat. It was so much better than he remembered.

Peter kneaded Tony's ass with his free hand, mouthing praise into his beautiful cheeks. Who knew he'd be such a service top? Peter certainly didn't, but he was definitely enjoying it.

He twisted his fingers, feeling around for Tony's prostate. When he found it he pushed, gently, redirecting his attention toward giving Tony the best prostate massage of his life. Tony instantly jumped, gasping into the sensation. Peter's fingers were just long enough to reach, just dextrous enough to keep him on edge. Tony fisted at the sheets, at Peter's shoulder - it was so much. Why did he ever stop bottoming?

He rediscovered his voice shortly after. "Fuck, Pete baby please, need you to fuck me now. Wanna cum on your cock, can't wait anymore. Please baby, please, need you." He was babbling, desperate and not willing to hide it anymore.

Peter, nearly as fucked out, conceeded. They were planning on going multiple times tonight, anyway, why not get the first orgasm out of the way? He pulled his fingers from Tony, wiping them off on one of the nearby towels. Good job, Parker.

Tony whined at the emptiness, still so unabashedly needy. Peter smiled to himself. He'd never seen Tony like this before, and he was so happy he was the one to do this to him. Tony was known for his stoicism and poker face - for Peter to be able to tear that wall down so easily? It was a pride point, for sure.

He reached for the bottle of lube again, coating himself in the cool liquid as he stroked. It didn't take much to get him ready - he felt like he'd been hard for eons, and wasn't thrilled with the whole "waiting" thing.

Peter rubbed over his hole again, smirking when Tony instinctively clenched around nothing. He sat up on his knees, easing himself into the man in front of him. Tony immediately dropped from his elbows, moaning as Peter sank all the way inside. It was so much better than he'd imagined - Peter wasn't particularly lengthy or girthy, but it felt like he was made for Tony. Designed specifically to fuck into Tony's hole, and to wreck him as he did it.

It literally brought Tony to his knees, arching back into Peter's touch and begging him to move. "Please, Peter, baby, give it to me. I can take it, whatever you give me, please, just please I need you to move. I need you to fuck me, baby, please."

it was enough to convince Peter. He pulled back, forcing himself all the way back with a quick snap of his hips. Tony moaned, broken and desperate. It was slowly becoming his mo - who knew Tony Stark was such a slut for his baby's cock, for his cum?

Apparently Peter'd been thinking out loud. He tended to do that during sex - couldn't keep his mouth shut, and whatever "filter" he had completely flew out the window. "Yeah? You like it when I fuck you, T? Like the idea of me cumming inside your pretty little hole? Wanna feel my cum leak out of you, baby? How much do you think i'll give you today, hmm? You do the math on it? I did. I did a whole fuck ton, just to see how much I'd give you.

"You wanna know how much cum I'll give you, T? Hmm? Math says it'll be 1000 mils the first time, can you imagine that? One thousand mililiters of cum, in your pretty little hole. Leaking out, drippin' all down your thighs? You're such a slut, can't even stay tight long enough to hold my cum inside. What a little cockslut, you are. Who would've thought?

"We already know how many times I can go. What was our max, like 8? Imagine eight of those fat loads inside you, love. Can you feel it? Can you feel me inside you? You're so tight, Tony, but you won't be when I'm done with you. No, I'm gonna stuff you full and leave you like this, leave you to feel as it runs out of you.

"Or maybe, maybe, I'll leave you here. I'll wipe you off, get you all clean. Then maybe I'll run over, grab one of our plugs. Plug your pretty little ass, leave you full of my cum. How about that? You like the sound of that?"

He did, by god Tony did. The sound of it, the sheer idea of being so full, so heavy with Peter's cum inside him... being plugged, and left to suffer..

It had him cumming embarassingly early. Tony typically prided himself on his stamina - stamina that was nonexistent with Peter's words.

He came, slack and broken, with Peter's name on his lips. He felt his own cum splatter on his stomach. It was pathetic, it was nothing compared to what Peter was going to give him. It was humiliating in the best way imaginable.

Peter groaned, gritting his teeth as he felt Tony tighten through his orgasm. It was too much, he was so on edge after waiting so long.

It was nearly painful when he finally came. He could feel his balls tighten, feel the fluid flowing through him and spraying out the other side. He felt like a fucking firehose, orgasm lasting nearly a full minute.

He felt like a popped balloon after, useless after being so thoroughly empty.

It was made perfectly fine, though, by Tony's rising stomach.

This might have been the first load, and it was probably going to be the biggest of them all, but Peter was still shocked at just how much of an impact it made. Tony's stomach grew, near a solid inch as Peter continued pumping into him. The more he thrust, the larger he got - Peter continued to thrust into him until it was painful.

When he pulled out, a healthy amount surged from Tony's abused hole, covering the sheets beneath them. Peter snagged a towel in time to catch it, not wanting it to soak through to the mattress. It took several to handle the mess in front of him, and by the time he was done Tony was nearly asleep.

Peter stood, walking over to their dresser. He opened the top drawer, removing one of their smaller plugs. There was zero resistence when he slid it inside Tony, preventing the rest of him from escaping.

Tony hummed, content. "When do you think you'll be ready to go again? Because I definitely need a nap." He hadn't opened his eyes, but he still blindly reached out for Peter.

He smiled, sinking down into Tony's arms. "Wake me up when you do. I'll be ready."

[cutesilyo]

no place in the world (like manila) — an amephil fanfic

A few months after the outbreak of the Philippine-American War, Alfred falls in love with and is betrayed by a bright-eyed teenager with the prettiest smile on this side of the Orient in a single night. 

This is not a love story.

Also available on AO3.

—

"Sir, I don't think it's safe for you to leave the camp," Major-General MacArthur warned. "I don't know how, but the revolutionaries know your face. They could attack you!"

"Pshaw," Alfred snorted. "I'm a nation. What could they do that could take me down, huh?"

MacArthur's mustache bristled in displeasure. "Be that as it may sir, might I remind you that you only arrived in Manila a week ago? Knowing you, you'd just get lost and I'd have to put together a whole squad of troops just to hunt you down. You could get captured, Alfred. I don't know how to tell you just how badly that would bring down morale."

Alfred just wagged his fingers, a bright grin on his face. "Look, if I get captured, I'd bust out of whatever crappy holding place they'd put me in without barely breaking a sweat! And knowing our soldiers, that's just the stuff that would make a great story to tell at dinnertime. How's that for morale?"

The way that MacArthur simply stared at him blankly told Alfred that this was not a convincing argument.

"I hate it when you do that," he groaned, slumping back on his seat. The leather was hot with the heat of the tropical sun and it stuck uncomfortably to his skin. Oh, how badly he wanted to just finally get up and leave. "I'm just saying, I can't stay inside here forever just waiting for you to dictate our next move."

"It's part of our strategy—"

"And it's boring. I'm bored, Major-General. I might as well look around." Alfred's eyes glinted dangerously. "Besides, you'll capture the whole nation for me soon enough, won't you? No harm in wanting to see what we're winning once this war is over."

The silence lasted for a few seconds before the major-general sighed in defeat.

—

Private Patton R. Wilkes was assigned to “accompany” Alfred while he roamed around Manila, but he knew that MacArthur just wanted someone to make sure he would actually return to camp instead of getting lost or, God forbid, taking the next ship back to America. Though the both of them were dressed in civilian clothing, the private carried himself with a strict stiffness that just screamed hardened military man. If Alfred wanted any chance of escape, it looked like the private would be hard to shake off.

Alfred tried to stay optimistic about the trip anyway. He hadn't paid much attention to the city while he was on the way to the American camp, but he certainly expected it to have an air of exoticness. He was a bit disappointed not to see anything like the palaces of Japan or the distinctly oriental architecture of China. Instead, he found street signs written in Spanish, the excited chatter of fast-talking brown-skinned people, and the cacophony of guitars, church bells, and the sound of horse-drawn carriages trotting along the stoned roads. Walking around Manila was like looking at a funhouse mirror version of Mexico: more or less the same, but with just enough differences to make his head spin.

"Uh, you alright there, sir?" Patton asked.

"Was just thinking about a bad memory, is all," Alfred grimaced. He's sure that Alejandro would have his head once he returned to the continent. He's been pissing off a lot of Spanish-speaking nations recently, that's for sure. "Come to think of it, the Philippine Islands must have its own personification too, right?"

The private's face darkened. "He's a force to reckon with, sire. Haven't seen no hide nor hair of him myself, but some guys in the other squadron barely survived after fighting with the kid."

"A kid?" Alfred furrowed his eyebrows. He didn't know there were still nations out there who were that young. Then again, he was only a teenager himself, and he was even younger when he fought against Arthur as well. "I don't know how I feel about fighting a kid. Couldn't I just give him a lollipop or something and this could all just work itself out?"

He meant it as a joke, but Patton seemed to take it seriously and started furiously shaking his head. "Don't think you could even try negotiating with him sir, the kid's a savage. Hacked and slashed his way through the guys with some kind of golden knife, they said. We're lucky our medics are so darned fast, otherwise, we would've been down almost a dozen men from him alone."

Something in Alfred's resolve hardened at the thought of losing his soldiers to someone so brutal. He clapped the other man on the shoulder and said, "Don't you worry, Pat. We'll end this soon, and when we win, we'll make sure that nobody from these islands ever lays a hand on any of our own."

That seemed to comfort Patton somewhat, though he was still shaking with anger. "I'll give them a good walloping right by your side, sire."

"Now that's the kind of patriotic determination I wanna see!" Alfred crowed. He then immediately scrambled for his wallet and hurriedly gave the private a wad of bills. Some onlookers openly gawked at seeing the number of dollar bills in his hand. "Tell you what, why don't you buy some booze, head back to camp, and inspire your fellow soldiers, eh? God knows we need some fun around here."

"Um," Patton blinked, caught off-guard. "I don't know if Major-General MacArthur—"

"Tell Major-General MacArthur that I'm just trying to boost morale," Alfred winked. "Also, tell him I'll back by next morning!"

He didn't get to hear Patton's response as he took off running wildly in the opposite direction. He barely registered running past the stores, wet market, and the cathedral; he just wanted to be alone and independent, exploring this new land to his heart's content. The buildings were shorter and the roads were narrower here than in his own country, but Alfred was just so glad to finally be in a place filled with people just like he was used to.

Alfred collapsed on his knees, winded. When he looked up, he was surprised to see that he had apparently made it to one of Manila's many ports. Past the numerous small fishing boats and trading boats, he could see that the sun was already beginning to set. The sky was painted in a pretty combination of pinks and oranges in contrast to the ocean's blue, the stars already starting to twinkle faintly into appearance one by one. The rhythmic lapping of the waves against the rocks seemed louder than everything else around him — a stark reminder that no matter where he went, there was always something bigger to discover.

He stood there for a moment, mesmerized when a loud grunt startled him out of his stupor.

He turned to find some kind of bull staring at him with its beady eyes, its long horns curving towards the back instead of to the front. It was pulling a wagon full of leafy vegetables that Alfred couldn't recognize, and the old man riding it looked startled to come across a foreigner.

"Hijo, padaan naman po," he said, with a strained smile.

"Oh, sorry, I don't know what you mean," Alfred tried, but the man just continued smiling at him. He was starting to think that maybe abandoning Patton, who wasn't fluent but at the very least conversational in Tagalog, was a bad idea.

Luckily, someone came to his rescue. A teenager with bright eyes approached him, an amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. He was dressed simply: unlike the suit and tie ensemble of the richer Filipinos he'd come across or the pale blue uniform of the Philippine Army, he wore a thin white top and trousers cut just above his ankles. The scabbard on his hip would have been concerning if Alfred didn't know just how many Filipinos carried knives in their daily lives. All in all, he looked just like any other street vendor, but the red handkerchief tied around his neck was vibrant enough to make him stand out. "You are American, yes?"

"Ah yeah," Alfred flushed, a bit flustered. The way the stranger leaned in was a little too close for comfort, but he looked harmless and at least he spoke English. "Can you help me? I think that man is talking to me, but I can't understand what he's saying."

The teenager grabbed his arm to pull him to the side. The old man tipped his straw hat in thanks, and the teenager smiled, saying: "Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito."

The two of them watched the wagon pass them by. They stood there in silence for a moment, and then Alfred blurted out, "I didn't know I was in the way, I swear."

"You did seem quite distracted." Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other boy laugh. The both of them turned to each other at the same time, a small smile on each other's faces. "Not that I blame you. I am sure you have sunsets in America, but it is different here than in other countries. I think the colors are more vibrant, do you agree?"

"Certainly takes my breath away," he admitted. "I do have to ask, how come you speak English so well? I've only been in Manila for a few days but I don't think I've met another Filipino that's as good as you are."

The teenager only laughed again and held on to Alfred's arm tighter. As he looked up at him, his eyes and grin were equally bright with mirth; and despite himself, Alfred was a bit charmed. "Us Filipinos are not as stupid as you think, señorito. Now, you say you are a stranger to Manila, yes? Come with me, and let me show you around my city."

—

They ended up hailing a tranvia, a carriage made to carry a whole group of people instead of just a pair. Alfred found it small and quaint, making an internal note to build tram lines in the city once he was able. Yet the energy that the teenager had with him was larger than life. He had apparently noticed the other passengers giving Alfred a suspicious side-eye, and immediately launched into a round of jokes to dispel the tension. Though he barely understood the jokes due to them being told in a mix of Spanish and Tagalog, the way that the whole tranvia burst into loud laughter was enough to assure him that his companion was quite the comedic performer.

When they got off, the driver even thanked them for the entertainment and told them not to pay the fare anymore. Alfred let out an excited whoo! as the teenager did an exaggerated bow.

As the carriage rode off, Alfred turned to his new friend and exclaimed, "Wow! The way you handled that was amazing! I mean, I've been through worse than an awkward train ride, but you definitely saved my ass back there."

The teenager blushed slightly. "Think nothing of it. I would rather see my companions happy and comfortable in my care than anything else."

"Still, that thing you did was certainly a swell sight." Alfred breathed in the cold evening air and let it out with a contented sigh. He looked straight into the other boy's eyes as he said, "And it's really nice that you're going through all the trouble to be with me tonight too! Like, we don't even know each other's names but you just whisked me away like some kind of fairytale hero! That was really awesome of you, I have to say."

"You are a man of sweet words," the teenager said, with a smile that looked almost bittersweet. Then, as if he had completely forgotten about his melancholy, he grabbed Alfred's arm again and dragged him towards the next street corner. "But let us not waste time talking! Most of these shops close soon, and I would hate for us to miss them!"

Helpless, Alfred let himself be strung along.

Sadly, most of the shops they went past had already closed for the day. Still, the teenager cheerily talked his ear off about what wares they sold and the local gossip about the people who ran those stores — like Pepito, owner of the clay pottery store, who had apparently given away all his lotto winnings to the next city's blacksmith. The one time that they had actually been able to buy something was when they came across a small, brightly-colored cart that apparently sold the Filipino version of ice cream. Both the vendor — Mang Tomas, as he was introduced — and the teenager had chuckled when he brought out a wallet full of dollars, so the teenager had to reach into his own pocket to pay with a few coins. As they walked past yet another cathedral, Alfred caught his friend singing the hymns under his breath. When they reached the plaza, the teenager then asked the lady standing nearby �� Aling Nena, he was told — to give him a jasmine garland, the scent of the white flowers so powerful that it immediately made Alfred sneeze on his friend's face when he put them around his neck. Yet instead of getting mad like he expected, the teenager had only laughed and told him he looked handsome.

No matter where they went or who they talked to, his friend always seemed to know everyone's names. Alfred had no idea how he had the time to possibly get so familiar with all the people around him, but he certainly understood the sentiment; he loved talking with all the Americans that he came across with too. Personally getting to know the people who made his nation always made him feel more connected with them in a way that war and politics never could.

And if the Philippine Islands was truly to be his someday, Alfred knew he wanted to treat them similarly. More than anything or anyone else though, nobody in the archipelago had intrigued him most than the young man beside him whose smile was brighter than any star.

Yet all his experience in small talk failed him tonight, and not for lack of trying. Every time he asked questions about his friend, he was always diverted away from the topic.

Which part of the city are you from? was met with a vague Do you ask the flower which vine it came from? You are better off simply enjoying the whole garden.

Where is your family? had been completely ignored as his friend said You must be hungry, yes? I know a place with the best empanadas this side of Binondo.

What is your name? earned him a cheeky wink and a teasing If your mind still ventures to inane questions like that, then I am not doing very well in completely impressing you.

How old are you? made the teenager burst out into loud, hearty laughter that lasted for more than a minute. Alfred didn't even bother to try asking anything else after that, choosing to focus on his empanadas and arroz a la valenciana for the rest of the meal.

Later, when they were served a bottle of gin to share along with a bowl of peanuts, his friend had the grace to apologize for his behavior.

"I truly am sorry," he said, but the playful grin on his face made it difficult to take his apology seriously. "I simply do not think that you knowing more about me is more important than us having a good time together."

"How am I supposed to find you again if I don't know who you are, huh?" Alfred couldn't stop himself from whining. He ignored the glass in front of him, taking a swig straight from the bottle and letting the alcohol burn down his throat. His friend watched him in bemusement. "This has been the best night of my life in a long time. And if this is the last time we see each other, I don't think I'm going to forgive myself if I don't push you into giving me a hint."

This time, it was his friend's turn to take a drink: he filled his glass half-full and downed it all in one go. "You are certainly bold, señorito, I will give you that. A good friend of mine warned me about how loud and annoying Americans were, but it seems he neglected to tell me about how forward you all were as well."

Alfred resisted the urge to roll his eyes; of course, he would get deflected yet again. "Alright, I'll bite. Tell me more about your friend."

The teenager looked surprised. "You wish to know more about a man that insulted you?"

"If this is the closest I get to you telling me more about yourself, I'll take it," he shrugged. "Besides, I'd love to know how this friend of yours thinks. Americans are the greatest people in the world! He must be stupid if he doesn't know that."

The other boy laughed. "Of course you would say that, you biased brute. And I will have you know that my friend was quite smart, actually. One of the smartest men I have ever known."

Alfred felt like he wouldn't like the answer, but he asked anyway: "Was?"

All traces of laughter from his friend's face faded away into a hollow smile. "Killed by firing squad a few years ago."

Silently, Alfred poured gin into both of their glasses. They drank in solemn solidarity.

"My sincere condolences," said Alfred, and he meant it: he had lost too many friends himself over the centuries. "And I'm sorry I called him stupid."

His friend waved it off. "No worries. Pepe was incredibly intelligent, but he definitely had his fair share of stupid moments — you wouldn't believe how many times that man fell in love over the course of his short lifetime. Still, I miss him terribly and I wish he was still around. God only knows what he would have thought about everything happening at present."

"Oh, I know the feeling." Despite him dying decades prior, Alfred still longed for George Washington's steadfast guidance sometimes. He reached, a bit messily, for another drink. "It's uncanny, yeah? Some people just have this weird ability to analyze the present and predict the future. I certainly don't know how they do anything like it, really. I kind of just talk big and hope for the best."

"Funny that you talk about the future," the teenager chuckled. "Somehow, my friend even managed to predict that you would come here, Alfred. I did not believe him at the time, of course, but here you are."

"Here I am," Alfred repeated faintly. "Hold on, how did you know my—"

"Why were you all alone in my city, señorito?" His friend interrupted, looking up at him through his eyelashes. He leaned closer, close enough for the skin of their arms to touch, and Alfred suddenly forgot about all his worries. "I was very surprised to see you on your own, looking every bit like a lost little lamb. You are very lucky that I found you."

"Lucky indeed," he murmured, adjusting the collar of his shirt. It felt like the temperature in the room had risen by a dozen degrees. "Just wanted to explore, is all. MacArthur told me we had to stay low for a few more weeks, I got bored, and he let me out."

Those bright eyes were practically glittering as the teenager looked up at him, his fingers slowly tracing up his arm. "And you were alone? I always thought American soldiers traveled in pairs, but perhaps I was mistaken."

"No! No, you're right, you're definitely right," Alfred stammered out. He was sure his face was completely red by now. "I was with Private Wilkes earlier, but we, ah, got separated. He must be on the way back to Bulacan by now."

"How unfortunate," the other practically purred, clearly delighted. "Say, tell me, how did this Wilkes look like? Because I am sure that he does not look as handsome as you do."

That damned smile, now coy instead of kind and sweet, was tantalizingly close. If only he had the courage to lean down—

Alfred, trying desperately to distract himself, grabbed the bottle again and took a long swig.

There were about a million promises that threatened to spill from Alfred's lips, each one more outrageous than the other: Come with me. Stay with me. I'll keep you safe. I'll love you. Yet at the moment, he found himself tongue-tied. He didn't know if it was the alcohol or the atmosphere or the way the young boy across the table had so effortlessly allured him, but he felt like he was about to go insane. He barely registered the both of them standing up to leave, didn't question why they didn't need to pay at the restaurant, paid no heed to what his friend had whispered to the men standing guard by the door. His mind was in a muddy haze, and all he could focus on was the fact that his friend was holding his hand as he was led into the dark streets.

Dimly, Alfred thought that however striking he looked by the setting sun, he looked much more ethereal bathed in moonlight.

He must have said this aloud because the teenager laughed.

"You are a man of sweet words," he said, and there's that oddly bittersweet smile again. "And I wish we could have met in better circumstances."

"What's wrong with the way we met today? I had fun," Alfred argued. He swayed slightly on his feet, and his friend held on to him to keep him from falling. "Didn't you have fun?"

"You forget we are at war, señorito. And you forget that you are seeking to control me and my people, not find a lover." Despite the harsh words, the way his friend said this was soft and sad. Almost like he was somehow hurt. "It does not matter what we feel today if we are bound to fight each other tomorrow. Should you not know this by now?"

They walked together in silence, each supporting the other. Slowly, Alfred's alcohol-induced dizziness began to subside. It was replaced by a growing emptiness in his chest — and a heavy, heavy realization.

"You knew I was America this entire time." When his friend deigned to respond, he continued. "Then, why...?"

At this, the teenager laughed — broken and wistful and desperate, all at once. "I do not know myself. I was ready to attack you, but for some reason, the look in your eyes as you watched the sunset stopped me. I thought, if you could look at my country with such amazement, then you could see that this war is unnecessary. That if you could know my land and my people the way I knew them, full of vibrancy and color and light, then you could realize that they did not deserve to die.

"Yet as the night went on I began to realize my efforts were fruitless. It was not them you were looking at anymore, but me." Here, his friend faced him; Alfred barely catching a glimpse of his wet eyes before the teenager looked away. "Believe me, I would love to spend another night like this with you. But you have your responsibilities and so do I."

"Fruitless," Alfred repeated hollowly. The cold night wind was in stark contrast to the hot rage he felt bubbling inside him. He forcefully wrenched himself away from his friend, yelling: "You made me tell you classified information!"

In seconds, he watched the teenager's face go from shock to hurt to an angry glare.

"Do you not understand how badly I need to win this war? My people did not give their lives to free me from Spain just so you could swoop in and take over! So forgive me, señorito," his friend spat mockingly, "for trying to find whatever advantages my poor nation can get against such an imperialistic nation like you!"

"And do you not understand what we're trying to do here?" Alfred shouted. "We are fighting this war to save you! Don't you see that your country is a mess? That you're underdeveloped, uneducated, and unfit for self-rule? I was the hero who helped save your people from Spain, jackass, and—"

"—and you promised to give us independence, and yet all your countrymen seem to do is kill." The teenager finished, both his eyes and the hilt of his knife glinting golden under the moonlight. "Is that what freedom means to you, America? I beg to differ."

As Alfred stepped away from him in furious, furious betrayal, all he could think about was that the other boy looked so small.

"I thought of you as my friend," he said.

"And I thought of you as my liberator," the teenager said coolly. "I see we were both wrong."

A harsh whinny interrupted them both. Alfred turned to find Patton riding a chestnut brown horse, his face red from exhaustion but seemingly unharmed. The private stopped in front of him, dismounting without grace on the pavement. His face was red from exhaustion and his clothes looked considerably ruffled, but otherwise, he looked unharmed.

"It ain't my position to say this sire, but don't you dare ever try to run away from me like that again," Patton panted, giving a quick side-eye to the other teenager before dismissing him. "We best hurry now, because those two won't be happy about their stolen horse."

Just as he was about to ask who those two were, a pair of Filipinos with muskets turned the corner and ran towards them. He vaguely recognized them as the same two men who were standing guard at the restaurant. They shouted loudly, a mix of Tagalog and Spanish expletives that Alfred could barely recognize, and a phrase distinct enough that he felt like it was something significant: amang bayan.

Patton evidently recognized the words. He looked at him in a wide-eyed panic, saying, "Sire, we need to leave—"

And as quick as lightning, Patton fell to the ground with a sickening crack. Caught completely off-guard and his arms restrained, he was helpless against the teenager who had a knife at his throat: a knife that, as Alfred began to realize with a horrified lurch of his stomach, was engraved with golden flowers and the insignia of an eight-rayed sun.

"You must be Private Wilkes," the Philippines smiled. "I do hope you are enjoying my country."

"Get off him or else!" Alfred screamed, the combined events of the night making him feel like he was about to reach his breaking point. He reached for the pistol he kept hidden on his belt and took aim, hoping to God that the other nation wouldn't force him to shoot. Even after everything, he didn't feel like he had the nerve to hurt Philippines after the hours they spent together; maybe some other day, but not tonight.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw that the two men had caught up to them. They angled their muskets at him from a distance. The horse, which Alfred had been planning to use for escape, had already taken off running in the commotion.

Patton stared up at him with fear in his eyes, a bleeding gash on his forehead, and Alfred's hands began to shake.

Above all else, Philippines was still smiling: eyes bright, amused twitch of the lips on his sharp face. Slowly, he stood to approach him.

Like a switch had been flicked, his features turned soft and kind again — more like the boy that Alfred had met earlier, the boy who had dragged him around the streets of Manila with lighthearted laughter, the boy whose smile was brighter than any star. All Alfred could do was stand there, mesmerized once again, as his hand was gently pried away from the gun.

"Alfred," Philippines said this quietly, almost like he was invoking a prayer. He motioned the men to stand down. "I do not wish to fight."

"I don't want to either," Alfred admitted. Maybe there was hope... "C'mon, we can talk this through, right? Look, we haven't had a battle in months. It should be really easy to negotiate, yeah? I'll set up a meeting with your generals and mine, we'll have a civil discussion with no weapons allowed, and we'll reach a compromise."

The other nation was leaning in, and this time, Alfred took his chance. He held Philippines' cheek in his hands and they kissed, soft and quick and chaste.

"Of course," Alfred said, as he pulled away. "I would need your complete surrender—"

He was swiftly kneed in the stomach, disarmed, and shot.

"Alfred, I do not wish to fight," Philippines said, as he watched Alfred collapse to the ground. "But I have to. I hope you understand."

He vaguely registered Patton reaching out to him as his eyes closed and the blood pooled around him, but all he could focus on was watching the other nation walk away into the darkness.

—

When Alfred came to, he was already back at camp. Without thinking, he immediately trudged to the general's war office.

"Good morning, Major-General MacArthur," he smiled, bright and cheery. "Gather the troops. I want to destroy Manila immediately."

—

Notes:

This is set in October 1899, during those months when there were no battles or skirmishes between the two armies. On the first day of November, the Americans launched a major attack on the Filipinos. This attack happened in San Fabian, Pangasinan, not in Manila, but let's forget about that.

Major-General MacArthur is, of course, Arthur MacArthur Jr., who was a major military figure during the Philippine-American War. I also claim artistic license in hinting that the American camp was in Bulacan because it probably wasn't.

Alfred's comments about Manila looking like Mexico are based on a comment by former president Manuel L. Quezon when he visited Mexico back in 1937: "Everything was the same." He meant that very, very affectionately.

Here's a nifty map of modern Manila. Alfred and Patton start out in Quiapo, which is basically the heart of downtown Manila. Alfred runs all the way to Muelle del Rey, which, coincidentally, happens to be the same place where the Jones Bridge stands today. Alfred and Phili take the tranvia to Binondo, Manila's business district and home to the world's oldest Chinatown.

The names of the store owners and vendors that Phili talks about are references to assorted media in Philippine pop culture. Pepito is a reference to Pepito Manaloto, a long-time comedy show about a man who won the lotto. Mang Tomas (Mang being an informal way to refer to a male adult older than you) is the name of a popular brand of gravy. Aling Nena (Aling being an informal way to refer to a female adult older than you) is a reference to the song Tindahan ni Aling Nena, about a boy who falls in love with a storeowner's daughter.

The garland of white jasmines that Phili puts around Alfred's neck are supposed to be sampaguitas, our national flower. They're usually sold near churches and are given as a sign of respect.

I have no idea if there are actually empanadas and valenciana sold somewhere in Binondo, but let's jot that down to artistic license. But these are very much Filipino foods that were adapted from Spanish foods, which is why Phili brings it up when Alfred asks about his family.

The old friend that Phili keeps talking about is Jose Rizal, our national hero. He is primarily known for being a great writer, whose novels inspired the Philippine War for Independence, and for being killed for it. He is also known for being having a long list of lovers, many of them not even Filipino. Lesser known is the fact that he visited America, hated it, went on a train ride with an American, and hated it. He wrote a whole diary entry about how much he didn't like America and Americans. He had also predicted that out of all the world powers, it would be America who would probably take an interest in conquering the Philippines when Spain was out of the picture. Go figure. Rizal was also affectionately known by his nickname, Pepe.

I imagine Phili to be particularly proficient in arnis, which is also known as kali or eskrima. It's a kind of Filipino martial art, most easily recognizable as that one martial art where everyone is dual-wielding a pair of sticks. The sticks are actually for training. Traditionally, arnis is fought by dual-wielding knives or swords, and it's meant to be quick and efficient in defending, attacking, disarming, and killing. Phili's fictional ornately designed knife is inspired by this very real ornately designed knife. The detail of the eight-rayed sun is a reference to the eight-rayed sun in the Philippine flag.

Lastly (phew!), some Tagalog to English translations!

Hijo, padaan naman po - Young boy, kindly let me pass Pasensya na po, lolo! Hindi kasi taga-rito - Sorry, grandfather*! He's not from around here. Lolo literally means grandfather but is a general way to refer to any elderly man regardless of any actual blood relation. Amang bayan - Fatherland

[krs724490]

6/12/2023

The quantity of stuff to write feels as if it is too much for the human hand unassisted by the keyboard. My handwriting cannot keep up with the pace of my mind and so I come here to let it all out...

I believe in signs. I believe the world is an intentional place. I know this more than ever now. There is not a leaf, a speck of dust, a feather floating in the wind that God does not know about. So I read into these signs and symbols and lately they all contradict themselves. As the story unfolds I get increasingly confused.

I pull a tarot card. 2 of cups, upside down. “Blinded by infatuation. Disillusionment within a love relationship or close friendship. Overindulging in sensuality.” Everything comes to a halt. I know exactly what it means. I know that it’s true. Somehow I have woven this insane story in my head. Based off of what? There is no substance, no truth behind it. It’s all so spun in my mind. I acknowledge the card - bitch I knowwww. I’m trying to put it down! I’m just having a hard time!

Yesterday night I attended breathwork. I went in having no clue what would come up. No expectations, and again I was completely shocked by what came up. So caught off guard because I didn’t realize how deeply embedded in my psyche he was. It was his face. Head on. Just his face, his head, like he was a floating memoji that apple just invented but like not a cartoon, his real features. Chocolate brown eyes that sparkle. A little bit of stubble. Just his face. and the frustration I felt. I’ve just gotten out of a relationship. I’ve been working hard to stay inside of myself and not direct my energy towards men. I’ve been wanting to weave the independent woman narrative who is working on herself to create the most beautiful “side of the street” her side of the street, a solid side of the street. The fact that I paid for this breathwork session just to see Daniels face? Just to work up shit about him? Preposterous. Unthinkable. ANNOYING. The girl next to me was screaming like hell and all I could think was girl.. me too. Why is this my experience right now? Always why God? Not trusting God. Not understanding his plan. I sat there and I questioned him. Because if my life was a movie and someone was writing the plot, this would be about the chapter where the independent girlie takes flight. I couldnt understand why him. I reached out to Toni’s mat and I said to God, she can have him. She can have EVERY ounce of him. Just please release me from this hold he has on me. I would pay to have it removed. It feels like such an uncontrollable thing. I wish I didn’t have it, but it is not my will it is Gods will, so I will sit with the disease. It truly feels like a hinderance at this point. I let go of this portion of the session and my emotions started to settle. I started to wander. and then... I got angry. I wanted to fight for my independent life. For the ME. For my half of the puzzle that has nothing to do with anybody else. So I breathed HARDER and I triggered more experience because I was unwilling to accept my initial experience. I saw this room. My room. My white and golden room. God’s glowing, Golden girl. She is tidy. She is connected to this space. She doesn’t live in it, she lives of it, with it, as if it is an extension of her body. She loves this space with her whole heart because it nourishes her. It is her sanctuary. The vision was of a witch, pixie, a goddess who lives in this very room. She keeps her spine long, head held high. She has spirit constantly flowing through her. She seeks God with every ounce of her energy. She presents herself in a way that gives her confidence. She is on the same level as the world, she lives with it, she does not try to float above it. She allows the “bad” just as much as the good. She welcomes all of it with open arms, trusting in God’s mystery. She sees people, she cares about how they are doing, she cares about getting to know them, she cares about their stories because she knows thats the only way to make a true difference in the world. To see people and to listen intently. To put a hand on their back and make them feel loved, cared for, attended to. She always chooses to say hi. She also has bags under her eyes. She is not perfect. She is not immortal. She feels the lethargy and she watches it. Observes it from a distance and doesn’t toss and turn with it. In fact she delights in it, in her silly neurosis. Silly tired girl. Bit off more than she could chew again! She doesn’t see being tired as not being in the center. She sees being tired as part of it. All part of it. Part of how it goes. and so it is... This is the girl I fought for. The girl I breathed hard to see. The girl I wouldnt give up on. 

I’m not sure if breathwork gives you what God wants you to see or what you want to see. It’s probably both. God wants you to see your own inner workings. Seeing Daniel jolted me. I didn’t realize he had made his way so deep. Chloe texted about Jacob saying he wasn’t able to date because he’s a manager. If he truly wanted her he wouldve found a way. You cant stop real love with a silly rule. I also take this as a sign to let Daniel go. How come he came up so strongly in breathwork just for the tarot and the rest of the world to ask me to put him down? I DONT KNOW WHY. I will never know, my human brain will never be able to compute. and so I just let it happen. I toss my hands up and say ok God - I’m here for the ride that you have crafted for me, the song you composed. I trust you, I may not fully understand your [logic] LOL as if God uses logic! He only uses love and energy. and I trust that more than anything. All things in your hands God. Did I mention I pulled the 2 of cups upside down AGAIN this morning. The day after breathwork. I believe God is telling me not to overindulge in Daniel and to set. him. down. I release all things to you God. Amen.

[ivanabaqero]

Since I just returned from rehab, here is my.. idk, emotional journey on my chronic illness + mental health or wtf ever u wanna call this. This is the most personal thing I have ever posted but I need to get it out. 

Before you read, I guess I gotta tw this for suicidal thoughts and descriptions of my symptoms.

I don’t even know where to start. It feels like all of this happened in one week and at the same in a span of several years. But no idea, time just kept passing and more shit happened. 

Last summer was pretty cool. I worked hard and made a fuckton of money - not really considering the consequences of the fact that I overstepped the boundaries of my body every single day. Either way, I regret nothing it was pretty cool and another experience I am glad I could make. Well, but when I came back home, I started to notice a few things. Among some weird shit nobody wants to know about, I noticed a change of my eyesight. There was a cloud right on the vision on my left eye and it got blurry. At first, it started with minutes and then it passed. But I knew my body responded to exhaustion in an odd way so I let it slide. As doctors have instructed me, only when it lasts over 24 hours it’s an actual episode/flare and I should go to the ER -- to elaborate this further, I have been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis in 2015 and have not had any bigger flares since, only the regular symptoms like fatigue, etc.

 I got treated with the regular medication; cortisone. This shit gave me some energy boost for a few days and then, things went back to somewhat normal. The blurry thing in my eye has changed into a weird ass thing called nystagmus. Basically, my eyeball was twitching. It was better than the blurry sight and my doctors told me that physical therapy was the only thing to help me with that, and up until some weeks ago this didn’t stop, at the moment it’s gotten way better though - a relief because that caused me mad headache and made reading really difficult.

Anyway, that was the smaller problem. A few months later, in December around Christmas, I have gotten really weak and have been constantly dizzy. As usual, I let it slide for some days. Up until that point when I couldn’t move from the bed or look at anything else but right up at the ceiling or I would get fucking dizzy. Back to the ER again, the same procedure began. Cortisone  resulted in a massive push of energy that lasted for some days, but after that, all the symptoms slowly returned. Not only that, but it started to get worse. I have been dragging and limping with my left foot since months but I still managed somehow to walk and get around. In January I had a major panic attack when I noticed that I couldn’t walk on my own to my doctors, which is merely an 8 minute walk away. I had to call my mom to bring me back home because I couldn’t go any step more. My doctor sent me to the ER but the next day, I decided that I was fine and being over dramatic and everything was perfectly fine. The whole thing kept getting worse, I could not walk anymore, I kept feeling dizzy all the time unless I was staring at only one spot: my laptop or phone. So that was what I did, ignore my symptoms. Adding to my chronic fatigue, dizziness, inability to walk and my eye problem, a sensitivity problem spread all over my body from the chest downwards. My hands hurt and my fingers cramped up and got stiff, I lost all feeling in my feet. I had an appointment at the neurologist thank god, or else, I would have let it gotten worse and kept telling myself that I am being over dramatic and nothing is actually wrong. Delusional? Maybe. I don’t understand myself there either.

The neurologist decided to keep me in hospital for a whole ass week, getting cortisone every day. I got in there with the ambulance in a wheelchair and left out of there walking again. Not perfectly, but I thought things were looking up. Of course, once the high dose of steroids begins to wear off and you slowly come down from it, you first catch sleep. Steroids this time have been given to me five days in high dose instead of three and in addition, I had to take pills that I had to reduce slowly over another two weeks. I did not sleep in those three weeks more than 3-4 hours per night and then I finally could. To make this more understandable; my brain was tired but my body was buzzing. I also had a tremor that has still not entirely left me as a wonderful side effect from the medication. 

That time stationary they finally put me back in a MRT and found 2 bigger new lesions. One of them in my cerebellum and the other in my spinal cord. Each of them causing me all those massive problems. Back at home I had physical therapy every day, but despite all of it, I had to rely on a wheelchair. I got my wheelchair in march and named him Otto because he is the best man ever. Next time in hospital, I was mentally and physically just fucking done and tried to just ignore how much my mental health was going downhill along with my body, the neurologist offered me stationary rehab at a very well known center where they treat several physical as well as mental illnesses. I said yes, and luckily got a place in July.

The initial plan was to stay there for four weeks, but the doctors suggested to extend to six. I did. And good that I did. I made slow progress. Very slow. To imagine, in twenty minutes at the first day I could barely walk 130m with four  breaks in between, with walking aid and what not - and my last day I made 640m in the same time with no breaks. I know this doesn’t sound like a lot but fuck -- I made it out of a fucking wheelchair. I am walking again. Not perfectly or any good, but my legs are used for their purpose again; to get me through this world. For someone who loves hiking and going for little walks alone, this was such a big deal to just not be able to anymore. 

The day I had the panic attack was the day I realized that in 2015 I made a promise to myself that if I ever have to rely on other people, I would end it. But I felt selfish for not wanting to end it. I felt selfish  for wanting to live and being a burden to people. I know, none of this is my fault and I am the first to give good advice, but am I good at handling my own shit? Absolutely not. 

With all the physical therapy I did for six weeks every day, I also had a psychologist that helped me understand myself better and deal with the trauma this experience brought me. I have to find another psychologist at home as well, because I didn’t feel the one I have helped me at all. I had to make a lot of promises to myself, such as accepting and asking for help and that it’s no shame in doing so. I feared losing my independence and I still do. But fuck, this experience was an eye opener in so many ways. I made new friends in rehab as well, which was one of the coolest things. And I got hit on by two attractive men - can you believe? I was in a wheelchair, dressed like absolute shit and not making any kind of deal of how I look! But yeah, my interest wasn’t really there to get involved in anything. I’ve got a lot of love to give but I need to give it to myself rather than pour it out on someone else.

I learned so many lessons, about my body and about my mind. My brain is an idiot and I have so many fears I was never even able to see until now. I thought optimism could beat everything and well... while it helps me a lot to get through every day life, every now and then I just need a slap in the face to look at things in another light. Not everything is fine if you tell yourself it is, no, you are not over reacting and you are allowed to feel sorry for yourself when life is dealing you a bad card. It doesn’t matter that other people have it worse -- it doesn’t mean your own shit is any less valid. And with that, I am going to wash my face and stop crying. I am still in a shock of reality state because I am  back at home now and everything is different. And I got to admit, I feel a little lonely. But I don’t want to reach out to my old friends at the moment with whom I felt like the “sick friend”. I want more friends in similar positions as me so I don’t have to feel bad for... well, feeling bad, and I don’t want to hear any more optimism monologues from healthy people who have absolutely no idea what it is like to have chronic pain, fatigue and overall; an illness. Whether it be mental or physical.

If you really read all of this, thank you. There was no need to, but I appreciate it. I honestly just needed to let it out. Because I haven’t done so properly since all of that started. 

[uwua3]

white day confession.

❄️🍶 yukishiro azuma

summary: azuma receives many gifts of admiration on valentine’s day, but he’s only returning one on white day

dedication: ruri — my divorcee of all time, internet bff, and much more, i love you! happy birthday!! 🎁🎊🎉

warnings: distance, feelings, slight angst

author’s note: this is for my best friend, ruri! i love her endlessly and so does azuma! happy birthday to the angel born on white day; azuma loves you and so do all your friends! (･ω<)☆

word count: 1,518

music: say yes – loco, punch

it was as if azuma wielded cupid’s bow, unintentionally shooting everyone within sight to fall hopelessly in love with him

after all, how could you not? he appeared like a demigod, with the grace of something heavenly and the touch of a human. azuma captured the hearts of anyone who gave him a second glance

it was only natural for him to receive confession after confession on valentine’s day, with the typical box of chocolates he disliked and traditional store-bought cards presented to him. it didn’t matter who it was; azuma would always politely reject them with a sympathetic smile before leaving behind a trail of broken hearts

it wasn’t exactly a reputation he sought after, but the title “king of broken hearts” began to follow azuma every valentine’s day

many thought they could change his mind, that they could chain him down and get him to sign a contract to commitment. azuma was blessed with ero’s wings, he could fly away from any trap possible. no one could keep azuma on the ground

except, you

azuma expected a letter from anyone but you. you were always one of his closest friends, where the line between friendship and romance blurred. it was a no strings attached kind of relationship, where you two could do anything you want but still be with each other at the end of the night

so when you carefully gave him a folded letter, azuma repressed a sigh at the foreshadowing of another failed casual relationship. he didn’t open it, nor did he say a word and neither did you. it was like a silent agreement—nothing would change if the feelings weren’t said aloud

there was this non-verbal deal to not read the letter, so azuma didn’t. but, for some reason, he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. all he had to do was rip it up and destroy any chance of being curious

but, it was like pandora’s box. azuma would lay in bed, knowing the letter was in his bedside and all he had to do was pull open the drawers. azuma would wake up, wondering what you possibly were afraid to say, and azuma would fall asleep, dreaming of what contents were penned in your handwriting

it was like you put a love spell over him. ever since azuma received your love letter, he couldn’t think of anything else but you

unfortunately, it wasn’t a drunk decision to open your letter once and for all. azuma smoothed the wrinkles upon his forehead for the nth time, finally giving in when homare (who quickly ran away for his own good) commented about the condition of azuma’s skin

the world was quiet for once as the moonlit letter was read. the ink seemed like a fountain pen, with a lavender wax seal discarded to the side. as azuma took in your words, he unintentionally began reciting them whenever his eyes closed for a moment too long

My dearest, Yukishiro Azuma

Good day. This will be my first letter to you which I believe is long overdue. Now where do I start? Should I mention how I first fell for you? It was love at first sight. The moment you appeared in my eyes, I was struck by your beauty and I was affected even more when I heard your alluring voice which promptly sent shivers down my spine.

azuma reminisced on the past, where you two were much more naive and younger than you were now. had he truly missed the way your eyes looked towards him? how had you seen him? were you infatuated as well? for all these years? azuma was flattered to be the subject of your affections, but how was he so unaware?

How could this be? How could this possibly be? Just your first appearance already made my heart aflutter. My feelings for you grew tremendously once I started to get to know you better. I smiled when you smiled. I laughed when you laughed. I cried when you cried.

it was true you two shared a bond unlike any other. it was as if you two were truly connected; soulmates, if you will

when you smiled, he had no choice but to smile along. when you laughed, azuma found the world to be a much better place than he originally thought. when you cried, azuma did everything in his power to hold you close. you two shared something indescribable and unexplainable, that much was true

When your first leading role came, I did my hardest to support you. I gave my everything for you. Of course, this was only natural. For my heart, body, and soul belongs to you.

azuma faintly relived what it felt like when you ran into his arms, throwing your arms around his neck with a bouquet of the prettiest cecilias. it was closing night and you were the first to stand up during the standing ovation. azuma watched you like you were the star of the show that night

I can't believe that such a fine man like you exists. Oh how blessed I am! Can you see it? Can you feel it? How I wish to caress the side of your face? How I wish my lips could touch yours? How I wish to be embraced in your arms throughout the night? My darling Azuma, allow me to be by your side forever and always.

I love you, my darling.

with your signature gracing the bottom of the parchment, azuma’s heart warmed from the thought and consideration you had put into the letter. at first, the feeling was a pleasant warm sensation but quickly faded into a bitter cold

this was the first time azuma had felt truly moved by a letter before. what did this mean? did this mean... no, it couldn’t be

azuma closed the letter, his hands faintly shaking and a blush that couldn’t go away across his face. you love him, azuma repeated this in his head until he fell asleep, your words pressed against his chest

a month passes before azuma writes his own letter. a month of fleeting glances, touches that trailed for too long, and unspoken words that could change everything. although both of you tried your best to make sure nothing changed, something did

conversations that once flowed so smoothly froze over like a winter waterfall. energy that only you two knew the meaning of faded into a spark of what it once was. you two slowly grew distant no matter what either of you did. you both knew what was inside the letter now, there was no turning back

so, azuma sits down, takes out his own fountain pen, and watches the lilac wax melt above the aromatic candle. all the words he couldn’t speak were forming at the tip of his fingers, all he had to was write

if azuma shared his feelings, he’d lose what he worked so hard to maintain: his independence, his freedom, his privacy. but, after a month-long contemplation, azuma knew he’d rather lose those things than lose you

To my beloved,

Perhaps this may come as a surprise to you, but my letter is long overdue as well. Words that I cannot bring myself to share are now dutifully written upon this page; I promise you, they are as truthful as they come. I have laid out my soul bare for you to choose whether or not to accept. Please be gentle with me as I attempt to express how I feel about you.

When we had first met, you had come into my life because the heavens had blessed me with humanity’s greatest gift. What did I, an unfortunate mortal, do to deserve such a person? Overcome by my blinding adoration for you, I continued worshipping you as the gods intended. For the past years have been nothing but bliss, you are the only person who could make me feel such a way.

I could see your angel wings when you had hugged me that closing night after Winter’s first show. I should’ve told you then, but I didn’t know. I am only human, how could I know what these emotions were when I had never experienced them?

To this day, I do not know if I’ve always felt this way about you. But, I do know now. Please forgive me for taking so much time to admit the truth.

I love you, too, my angel.

Love, Yukishiro Azuma

white day had arrived. you weren’t the type to receive an influx of gifts on either days, since you only had ever given one letter to a special someone in all your life

azuma was the type to be showered in sweets, chocolates, and letters every day of the year. his charm and charisma could make anyone fall head over heels, including you. but, he had never given a white day gift before

when you turned around, you noticed a letter being held out between the hold of azuma

could it be? did azuma love you, too?

“happy white day. i love you, my angel.”

[nashvilledreams]

My Naya, my Snixxx, my Bee. I legitimately can not imagine this world without you.

7 years ago today, she and I were together in London when we found out about Cory. We were so far away, but I was so thankful that we had each other. A week ago today we were talking about running away to Hawaii. This doesn’t make sense. And I know it probably never will.

She was so independent and strong and the idea of her not being here is something I cannot comprehend. She was the single most quick-witted person I’ve ever met, with a steel-trap memory that could recall the most forgettable conversations from a decade ago verbatim. The amount of times she would memorize all of those crazy monologues on Glee the morning of and would never ever mess up during the scene… I mean, she was clearly more talented than the rest of us. She was the most talented person I’ve ever known. There is nothing she couldn’t do and I’m furious we won’t get to see more.

I’m thankful for all the ways in which she made me a better person. She taught me how to advocate for myself and to speak up for the things and people that were important to me, always. I’m thankful for the times I grew an ab muscle from laughing so hard at something she said. I’m thankful she became like family. I’m thankful that my dad happened to have met her weeks before I did and when I got Glee, he told me to “look out for a girl named Naya because she seemed nice.” Well dad, she was nice and she became one of my favorite people ever.

If you were fortunate enough to have known her, you’ll know that her most natural talent of all was being a mother. The way that she loved her boy, it was truly Naya at her most peaceful. I’m thankful that Naya got that beautiful little boy back on that boat. I’m thankful he will have a strong family around him to protect him and tell him about his incredible mom.

I just hope more than anything that her family is given the space and time to come to terms with this. For having such tiny body, Naya had such a gigantic presence, a void that will now be felt by all of us - those of us who knew her personally and the millions of you who loved her through your TVs. I love you, Bee.

My favorite duet partner. I love you. I miss you. I don’t have words right now, just lots of feelings. Rest In Peace Angel, and know that your family will never have to worry about anything.

We started out as the closest friends and then like all new things, we went through a bit of a rocky phase. However, we stuck by each other’s side and created the most beautiful friendship built out of love and understanding. The last I had the chance to see you in person, I had left oranges outside our home for you to take. I wanted to say hi through the window but my phone didn’t ring when you called (which it never does, f*cking T-Mobile), so instead you and Josey left two succulents on our doorstep as a thank you. I planted those succulents and I look at them everyday and think of you. I still listen to your EP on repeat because from the moment I heard it, it struck me and I always wished the world knew more of your voice. You sent me over 5 dozen SnapChat videos when you and Josey woke up in the morning and I kick myself that I didn’t save one of them. You always shared recipes and I admired your love for food. We vowed to spend every Easter together, even though Covid stole this last one from us. You are and always will be the strongest and most resilient human being I know, and I vowed to carry that with me as I continue to live my life. 

You constantly taught me lessons about grief, about beauty and poise, about being strong, resilient and about not giving a fuck (but still somehow respectful). Yet, the utmost important lesson I learned most of all from you was being a consistent and loving friend. You were the first to check in, the first to ask questions, the first to listen..you cherished our friendship and I never took that for granted. 

We never took photos together because we mutually hated taking pictures...our relationship meant more than proof. I have countless pictures of our babies playing, because we shared that kind of pride and joy. So I’m showing the world a photo of our little goof balls for you, because I know that meant more than anything and they remind me of you and I. I speak to you everyday because I know you’re still with me and even though I’m feeling greedy that we don’t get more time together, I cherish every moment we had and hold it close to my heart.

There are no words and yet so many things I want to say, I don't believe I'll ever be able to articulate exactly what I feel but... Naya, you were a ⚡️ force and everyone who got to be around you knew it and felt the light and joy you exuded when you walked into a room. You shined on stage and screen and radiated with love behind closed doors. 

I was lucky enough to share so many laughs, martinis and secrets with you. I can not believe I took for granted that you'd always be here. Our friendship went in waves as life happens and we grow, so I will not look back and regret but know I love you and promise to help the legacy of your talent, humor, light and loyalty live on. 

You are so loved. You deserved the world and we will make sure Josey and your family feel that everyday. I miss you already.

She was bold. She was outrageous. She was a LOT of fun.⁣

Naya made me laugh like no one else on that set. I always said it while we were working together and I’ve maintained it ever since. Her playful, wicked sense of humor never ceased to bring a smile to my face.⁣

She played by her own rules and was in a class of her own. She had a brashness about her that I couldn’t help but be enchanted by. I also always loved her voice, and savored every chance I got to hear her sing. I think she had more talent than we would have ever been able to see.⁣

I was constantly moved by the degree to which she took care of her family, and how she looked out for her friends. She showed up for me on numerous occasions where she didn’t have to, and I was always so grateful for her friendship then, as I certainly am now.⁣

And even as I sit here, struggling to comprehend, gutted beyond description- the very thought of her cracks me up and still brings a smile to my face. That was Naya’s gift. And it's a gift that will never go away. ⁣

Rest in peace you wild, hilarious, beautiful angel.

How can you convey all your love and respect for someone in one post? How can you summarize a decade of friendship and laughter with words alone? If you were friends with Naya Rivera, you simply can’t. Her brilliance and humor were unmatched. Her beauty and talent were otherworldly. She spoke truth to power with poise and fearlessness. She could turn a bad day into a great day with a single remark. She inspired and uplifted people without even trying. Being close to her was both a badge of honor and a suit of armor. Naya was truly one of a kind, and she always will be. 💔 Sending all my love to her wonderful family and her beautiful son.

Dear Naya, 

I’m failing miserably to process this news. I always imagined old future senior moments where we would hear your infectious laughter down the hall knowing that our funny bone was in for a treat. To many people, myself included, you were the life of the party. Not only able to rock when fun was to be had after a long day but that shining friend that was always willing to listen, offer sympathy, perspective and at times, give much needed levity to any situation. 

You were a beast on the show. I admired you as I watched you nail multi page monologues that you learned moments before and pour your heart into every performance with an energy that had that snicks special written all over it. Our deep conversations about life inbetween scenes are some of my favorite moments with you. Getting to hear about your hopes and dreams for the future and with Josey’s arrival, ‘Your greatest success’ I was so happy to see your dream turn into reality. 

You deserved more. I’m so sorry but you deserved more. You gave life your all and I hope all the good that you have given to the world will be returned in abundance when you reunite with our brother in the heavenly skies. I’m so grateful for our memories. We will make sure to keep your legacy and spirit alive so Josey will grow up to know the incredible woman you were. Love you, Naya. You are already missed. Eternally. 

-HSJ

Naya and I fell into stride with such ease, she was my first friend and ally on our show. In the pilot, our characters came and went with such swiftness. Our enthusiasm brimmed with all of the unknown. We tried to grasp what the other cast members must be feeling as we were working in such separate manners. We dared to dream. What if this show worked? Wouldn’t that be something? Something was brimming, it was palpable. And thank god it worked. Naya’s magnetic talent was going to be unleashed, we just didn’t know it yet. ⁣⁣

I’ve been revisiting Naya’s performances on our show and it has brought me great joy. To work with her was a gift. There was a great deal to absorb - her work ethic, her fearlessness, her talent - supreme. Naya had a laugh that would envelop you and hold you captive. She was mesmerizing. That twinkle in her eye, her luminous smile. Naya lead with truth, humor, wit. I loved her for all of these reasons. ⁣⁣

I loved her sense of curiosity and wanderlust. I was lucky enough to be her travel partner for some of my most favorite adventures. As I write this, I’m grinning with swelling memories of a spontenaous 36 hour excursion - one might even say diversion - to Paris. With Naya, everything was possible and would often simply unfold before us, almost magically.⁣⁣

On this particular jaunt, within ten minutes of checking into our hotel, we found ourselves strolling the halls of L'École des Beaux-Arts, sipping wine from paper cups with students showcasing their latest work. It was fantastic. We were united in our commitment to discovery. And there was always a list of cleverly curated ideas in Naya’s back pocket, should we need it. ⁣⁣

I cannot make sense of this tremendous loss. I will hold onto her and these memories for the rest of time, alongside our Glee family. Please hold space for her, her family, her beautiful boy. ⁣⁣

In absolute, loving memory.

Naya The world is at such a loss and I am truly heartbroken. I still remember the day I met you. You Walked straight up to me, grabbed me by the face and drug me around until I met every single person on set, introducing me as “new booty”. You were one of the first people who made me feel like family when others saw me as an outsider. I didn’t know then that you would become my family and that’s just who you were to everyone.. A Mother, Sister, Daughter and most of all a friend. Your massive heart and bright spark is what carried our entire show, when at times we all felt like giving up. 

You always showed up for me when I needed some wisdom or was down and just needed someone to talk to. You took care of everyone around you in a way that was so warm and comforting and you sure knew how to throw a hell of a party! 

I always admired your bravery and passion to fight for what’s right even when it seemed like you were up against the world. Your spirit is contagious and you continue to make everyone you have touched a better and stronger person by knowing you. 

My favorite part of glee was getting to watch you perform and shine up close every day. You really were the pulse of that show. Anyone who was blessed enough to see and experience your raw talent knows it to be true. You’re one of the smartest and most gifted people I have ever met. There is no one like you and there never will be.

You have changed peoples lives all around the world and you continue to change mine forever. I will never forget your love and kindness. Thank you for sharing your spirit Angel.

I will miss you always. I Love you Naya

For the last 7 years the 13th of July has shattered our hearts beyond repair. There aren’t enough words to describe the pain we are feeling, we are truly heartbroken at the loss of @nayarivera .

Naya, Cory loved you so so much. He cherished your friendship more than you will ever know. From the laughs you shared, to the strength you gave him when he needed it the most. Cory truly adored you. He was in awe of your incredible talent, the way you gave everything you had to each performance; the slap in the auditorium was one of his favourite stories to share. You once said Cory was like a member of your family; you will always be a part of ours. We’ll carry you in our hearts forever. We miss you. Friends reunited for eternity.

We send all our love and strength to your beautiful boy, your family, friends and fans 💔🐻💔

[bamf-jaskier]

Here and Queer: The Witcher

Hi, I’m Aaliyah, and this is Here and Queer, Canon Queerness in The Witcher books. 

I already started this series by talking about Ciri here. Her relationship required a fair amount of analysis because it began nonconsensually but continued for months after the fact and spanned three books so there was quite a bit to cover. 

However, while she is the main character there are other characters who are also queer in the books including Triss Merigold, Philippa Eilhart and Geralt himself!

Let’s jump right in by talking about our first queer character: Triss. 

She is explicitly confirmed as Queer in Blood of Elves during this internal monologue: 

As far as her erotic life was concerned, Triss Merigold had the right to consider herself a typical enchantress. It had began with the sour taste of forbidden fruit, made all the more exciting by the strict rules of the academy and the prohibitions of the mistress under whom she practised. Then came her independence, freedom and a crazy promiscuity which ended, as it usually does, in bitterness, disillusionment and resignation. 

Then followed a long period of loneliness and the discovery that if she wanted to release her tension and stress then someone who wanted to consider himself her lord and master – as soon as he had turned on his back and wiped the sweat from his brow – was entirely superfluous. 

There were far less troublesome ways of calming her nerves – ones with the additional advantages of not staining her towels with blood, not passing wind under the quilt and not demanding breakfast. That was followed by a short-lived and entertaining fascination with the same sex, which ended in the conclusion that soiling towels, passing wind and greediness were by no means exclusively male attributes.

Finally, like all but a few magicians, Triss moved to affairs with other wizards, which proved sporadic and frustrating in their cold, technical and almost ritual course.

Sounds here like Triss enjoyed her relationships with women but the forced heteronormativity of society caught up with her. This actually hits quite a bit for me as Triss states that her relationships with men seemed lacking after she had relationships with women. 

Of course, there is also this scene in The Tower of Swallows: 

The brilliant beam of light, broken by the diamond, flashed on the surface of the mirror. Yennefer stretched out both hands and began chanting a spell. The blindingly bright light reflected and concentrated into a fog. Soon, a picture began to emerge. The image of a room whose walls were covered with colorful tapestries.

A movement at the window. And a troubled voice. “Who? Who's there?”

“I'm here, Triss.”

“Yennefer! That you? Gods! How did… Where are you?”

“It does not matter where I am. Do not block the image, because the picture varies. And take away that candle, it’s blinding.”

“Right. Of course.”

Although it was late at night, Triss Merigold was wearing neither lingerie nor her work clothes. She wore a dress for going out. As usual, high-collared and closed.

“Can we talk freely?”

“Of course.”

“You're alone?”

“Yes.”

“You're lying.”

“Yennefer…”

“You are deceiving me, brat. I know your face; I know you too well. It’s the same look you had when you started sleeping with Geralt behind my back. Back then, you put on the same sheepish, innocent mask that I see on your face now. And it means the same thing now that it meant back then!”

Triss was red. Philippa Eilhart appeared in the window next to her, dressed in a dark blue men’s jerkin. “Bravo,” she said. “As usual, quick. As usual, perceptive. As usual, hard to grasp and understand. I am glad to see you in health, Yennefer. I am happy that your crazy teleportation from Montecalvo did not end in tragedy.”

Gonna be very honest here, as someone who has had to hide their girlfriend when a friend or parents walks into your room, that is exactly how I read this scene. Yennefer saying Triss has the look on her face of someone who just got laid? Philippa coming out of hiding and calling Yennefer perceptive? The fact that when Yennefer first called Triss didn’t let her see what was going on and then appeared fully dressed after blocking the image? I don’t know about anyone else, but I read this as Yennefer catching Triss and Philippa together romantically. 

However, even if you don’t buy this scene as explicitly showing a relationship between the two of them, Triss is still queer as well as Philippa. 

From Time of Contempt:

“So it is!’ said Marti Södergren, leaning over and wrinkling her nose, after which she picked up a goblet and looked at the traces of crimson lipstick on it. ‘Ah, Philippa Eilhart. I should have known. Who else would have dared to do something so brazen? That revolting snake. Did you know she spies for Vizimir of Redania?’

‘And is a nymphomaniac?’ risked the Witcher. Marti and Keira snorted in unison.

‘Is that what you were counting on, fawning over her and flirting with her?’ asked the seductress. ‘If so, you ought to know someone’s played a mean trick on you. Philippa lost her taste for men some time ago.”

Another Philippa scene from The Tower of Swallows:

Philippa Eilhart was in a short nightgown with thin straps, and her face and neck had traces of lipstick. Assire, with a great effort of will, contained an expression of displeasure. Never, ever, will I understand this. And I do not want to understand.

“Can we speak freely?”

Philippa’s hand made a sweeping gesture. And she surrounded herself with a magic sphere of discretion.”

Answering a telecomm with lipstick all over ur neck is such a queer power move and honestly Philippa might be manipulative but damn the energy she exudes. 

As well as Philippa and Triss, there is the infamous bath scene with Geralt and Borch from Sword of Destiny: 

“Let’s make merry!’ Three Jackdaws leant across the table and slapped Téa on the backside. ‘Let’s make merry, Witcher. Hey, landlord! Over here!’

The innkeeper scuttled briskly over, wiping his hands on his apron.

‘Could you lay your hands on a tub? The kind you launder clothes in, sturdy and large?’

‘How large, sir?’

‘For four people.’

‘For… four…’ the innkeeper opened his mouth.

‘For four,’ Three Jackdaws confirmed, drawing a full purse from his pocket. ‘I could.’ The innkeeper licked his lips.

‘Splendid,’ Borch laughed. ‘Have it carried upstairs to my room and filled with hot water. With all speed, comrade. And have beer brought there too. Three pitchers.’

The Zerrikanians giggled and winked at the same time.

‘Which one do you prefer?’ Three Jackdaws asked. ‘Eh? Geralt?’

The Witcher scratched the back of his head.

‘I know it’s difficult to choose,’ said Three Jackdaws, understandingly. ‘I occasionally have difficulty myself. Never mind, we’ll give it some thought in the tub. Hey, girls. Help me up the stairs!”

Now, there’s a lot of people who read this scene and say: hey now, Geralt didn’t actually sleep with Borch. They just slept with two women. Together. In a bath. Now, I don’t know about any of you, but when four people are naked in a bath together all having sex it’s not a situation where you can say no-homo bro and call it a day. 

Also, you know, there is this line later on in Sword of Destiny: 

“Véa, already mounted beside Téa, waved.

‘Véa,’ the Witcher said, ‘you were right.’

‘Hm?’

‘He is the most beautiful.”

Of course, this is in reference to Borch’s dragon form but considering the last person to call Borch beautiful was Véa who slept with him...well. Geralt is at the very least open for a variety of sexual situations. 

Finally, there is Sorel Degerlund in Season of Storms who says this about Ortolan, the elderly mage of the town: 

“As you’ve doubtless observed,” continued Degerlund, “I have exceptional looks and women have been known to call me an ephebe. I’m fond of women, indeed, but in principle I didn’t and don’t have anything against homosexuality. Under one condition: if it is to be, it must help me to advance my career.

My physical intimacy with Ortolan didn’t demand excessive sacrifices. The old man had long passed both the age limit for capability and desire. But I did my best for people to think otherwise and believe he’d utterly fallen for me.

Believe there was nothing he would refuse his gorgeous lover. Believe that I knew his codes, that I had access to his secret books and notes. That he was giving me artefacts and talismans he hadn’t previously revealed to anyone. And that he was teaching me forbidden spells. 

Including goetia. And if previously the great men and women of Rissberg had disdained me, now they suddenly began to esteem me. I had grown in their eyes. They believed I was doing what they themselves dreamed of. And that I was achieving success.”

So this is a very minor character who only appears in one adventure but he is queer. Well, to clarify he is queer for...career advancement? Honestly I have no idea if asaps is trying to make a statement here or if he was writing this and thought to himself: what if the mage was queer but only in order to advance his career? Sounds fun, let’s do it. 

So overall, there are queer characters in The Witcher, from Ciri to Triss to Geralt to Philippa to guy who is gay to advance his career in Season of Storms. There are likely other minor characters I might have missed, so feel free to add them!

I hope to see these characters as queer in the show and it’s really nice to have this type of representation in fantasy, especially a series such as The Witcher. And yes, there are a number of problematic tropes and issues this writing can stumble into but it is still nice to see a variety of sexualities, especially in the main characters such as Ciri and Geralt.  

[ratsoh-writes]

I have a feeling I'm either going to get Honey or a Horrortale skele, so here we go for Matchups! -🍊

Personality

-introverted

-nervous/jumpy/sensitive

-artistic/creative

-very sleepy. I stay up till 5am and sleep till 2pm.

-helpful! I like feeling needed lol.

-sensitive. I have an abusive mother im in therapy for, so I need someone soft :(

Hobbies

-im very artistic! I love drawing, painting, listening to music, even making it, anything that keeps my hands busy and my ADHD at bay.

-minecraft! I've just downloaded the game, I've had it for a year now, and I love the building in it lol. The mobs scare me tho.

-rps!!! I LOVE roleplaying!!!! Rpg games, DnD, hell, I even have a few oc based text rps on discord I'm into. It gets me SO excited when I make up little stories with my friends, the gremblin in my enjoys shiny new universes

Dislikes

-Snarky/teasing/snappy jokes, or being teased in general. I'm a sensitive person who takes a bit too much to heart. Mal and Red scare me.

-loud noises/crowded areas. Another trama trigger for me, I feel trapped in a situation and it makes me paranoid. I'd rather sit outside and watch a thunderstorm than go to a local fair.

-being pushed out of my comfort zone and/or being forced to get in contact with family I've kicked out of my life, the whole 'well family is family!' saying means jack shit to me. I've put my demons at bay, I don't want someone to push me out of my comfort zone, or else I feel sick with nerves. I don't like traveling or being around a lot of people, I'd rather just text someone than see them face to face, words come easier then. Brain weird.

Deal breakers

-anyone who forces me to be social. I have anxiety, leave me be dammit. If someone kept pushing and complaining about it, it would make me feel guilty and blegh. Let's not go down that rabbit hole.

-cheating, I have a low image of myself, I don't need someone flirting with others or being all handy with them. Once the wound it made, I'm not letting the knife near me again.

-someone who yells a lot. Loud voices, especially male ones, make me panicked and scared. If Edge ever lectured me I would simply. Cry.

-someone violent, which is a given. Sorry mafia men, but blood scares me. I'm a wheeny.

-someone forcing me to change. I'm chonky, so being forced into a diet or something would make me think low of myself, I couldn't stay with someone like that. Or someone pushing me to get anxiety meds or giving me a bedtime. I like my independence and I'm working on myself, I don't need to be pressured to do it faster.

-passive aggressiveness, it makes me confused on what to say in an argument and that junk.

Flaws

-most of these have already been said, but I'm introverted with low energy, I don't like going to big events or traveling away from home.

-sensitive. Any jokes aimed at me can and will be obsessed over to oblivion, I'm not the teasing type.

-awkward. I was kinda isolated as a kid, so social skills are hard. Don't expect me to pop up on conversations all the time, I mostly listen to what my friends say and nod along.

-hygene. This is also something I'm working on. I've had depression episodes that sometimes still surface, sometimes it's hard to even leave my bed, let along brush my teeth, hair, etc. Some days I'm just not feeling it. I also come from a neglectful house, so I wasn't even raised with those habits. But I'm trying, and that's what I'm focusing on. Don't be like 'ewEwW yOu HaVeNt BrUsHeD yOuR TeEtH tOdAy?!' That's both hurtful and annoying, life sucks man

-god aweful at spelling, sorry rat

Attraction

-someone who's soft and caring. I never had a motherly figure, and I'm too old now for my dad to watch me like a toddler, so I want to feel the love I mostly missed out on. Not babied or anything, just loved and cared for. Hug me, please. Alternatively: aha mommy kink go brr

-cuddly/affectionate. I need to feel wanted, since I was raised in a house that I wasn't, so words of reassurance are really nice, especially if that person wants to be around me close enough to cuddle

I tried making this as neat as I could, since I tend to ramble a lot, so I hope this layout is easy to read! Tell me if I need to add any physics stuff, thank you for the matchup! -🍊

Alright, you were right on probably getting a horror lol. I think the best fit for you is……..BASIL (horrorswap papyrus)!

Here’s the tricky bit. Getting to know basil is here. He’s also extremely anxious, to the point where he’s practically non-verbal to anyone he doesn’t know. But once you do get close enough for him to crush and even confess, you’ll get to see a butch more protective and attentive side to him. Basil is a protector at his core and actually prefers a timid SO unlike honey who likes confident and organized characters.

Basil would be great at balancing between encouraging you to be your best self and not being too pushy. Gentle is basically his main personality trait. And considering who it is here, it’s hard to feel nagged with him being the one giving you those gentle reminders.

You like cuddles? You’re getting your cuddles. Basil is shy about touch so it’s up to you to initiate, but when you do, you’ll find that he’s pretty much touch starved. He likes having you in his lap the most. Basil has mild insomnia so cuddling with a SO is the best way to help him doze off

Basil hasn’t been introduced to the wonderful world of video games yet. Minecraft would be a great starter! If you manage to get him into it, he’ll wind up getting addicted to sims most likely. Or FarmVille. He likes chill games

One important thing about dating basil is that your basically going to have to go vegetarian. You can eat meat outside the house when he’s not around, but the sight and taste of raw meat is a trigger for him. Luckily he’s a wonderful cook and makes up for it in his baking and pasta ;)

I was also thinking of rust and possibly slim for you. (Yes I know slim is a mafia but he’s great at keeping his work hidden)