#practicing asking myself if this is really what I want to be doing

[cherokeegal1975]

Makes sense. As a writer and artist myself, I gain inspiration from everything and everywhere. And creating stories and art is a kind of coping mechanism too. I get it even though I've never been in a war and hope I never will. I've got my own everyday battles. Everything from depression to people I really don't want to live with but have to pissing me off practically on a daily basis...and mostly preventing me from engaging in creativity of any kind...which is absolutely my drug of choice. It's maddening.

But, enough about my crap. What I have to put up with isn't as bad as what these two authors had to go through. I live with a guy I hate that I'd be surprised if he didn't have some form of untreated PTSD because he had seen some shit in Vietnam though he never actually killed anyone. But seeing people skinned and hanging upside-down and still breathing and having to guard them until his companions could get help to cut them down. I also heard that he got bombed once when he was sleeping. That shit would mess anyone up and he never recieved treatment for it.

I was understanding for a long time, but after a while, I just got angrier and angrier...I can' only put up with being called names and being mentally and physically abused (that part is rare, but it happens) without learning that I can indeed hate someone when for the longest time, I didn't know I could. Now I want nothing to do with him but I'm finanachally stuck in the same house with him until I can buy my freedom. Which is unlikely because I turn fifty this month and I've never been financially well off enough to leave as I desprately need to.

Asshole finished breaking my mom's sprit as much as it is possible to do to that stubborn bitch. Love her the most in the world, but still can't stand her and I hate living with her. She's fought her own wars too. So it wasn't all him, but he didn't help. He's such a bad husband and it's sad I can recognize that because I've never been married myself. Or romantically involved with anyone beyond a couple of dates. Those flopped...and I think in part because I didn't have enough information about myself. Never asked myself beyond am I gay or not...the answer was no. Then last year after some learning the question came up am I ace or not? Turns out the answer was yes and no...then I did some digging and came up with the term demisexual and that fit me.

And I'm breaking my rule about not bitching online. I have my own share of traumas. Still living them.

i think all quiet on the western front and the lord of the rings are in direct conversation with each other, as in theyre the retelling of the same war with one saying here’s what happened, we all died, and it did not matter at all and another going hush little boy, of course we won, of course your friends came back

[paige1722]

Pairing: Phantom!Simon Riley x reader

Warnings: gross behavior from a man, almost sexual assault?violence, stalking

I was listening to the Phantom of the Opera soundtrack and thought of this.

900ish words

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

The Ghost has always been there, watching. Ever since you joined this Opera House as a dancer two years ago. Even though you have never actually spoken to him or seen him up close, the hair on the back of your neck raised with the feeling of someone watching you has been a constant presence in your life, his looming shadow that is always hanging over you no matter where you go, his figure that never seems to leave the corner of your eye. 

When you think about the masked man or Ghost, as he is fearfully referred to as, you can’t bring yourself to be scared of him or feel any hostility towards him as you once were when you first noticed him watching you. Now, you even begin to refer to him as your guardian angel, making you feel safe and protected, knowing that he is always there looking out for you. It all started when he would leave you small red roses with a black ribbon tied around the stem and a small wax skull in the center of your room after particularly rough days, sometimes even leaving food with it when you accidentally end up missing dinner because of dance practice taking longer. 

Some of the other dancers are scared of you, now thinking that you are in cohorts with the supposed Ghost and will incur his wrath if they are seen talking to you. It doesn’t bother you that they all leave you alone now because they were never really the best company to keep around anyways, always getting into trouble trying to sabotage one another for the leading roles in performances besides, you have found friendship with two of the stagehands.

Today, something was different; there had been a strange gut feeling that something bad was going to happen today ever since you woke up, causing you to be more on edge. As you stand in the practice room alone, trying to perfect the newest choreography, the door slams open, causing you to jump in surprise. You turn around to see the newest stagehand smiling creepily at you. You hear your friends talk about him, and they have nothing good to say about him. The door clicks into place behind him, breaking you out of your thoughts as he walks to where you stand in front of the mirror. 

Taking a step back as he approaches fearfully, you ask, “What are you doing?” 

He lets out a deep chuckle, eyeing you up and down, “ I just wanted to introduce myself to you; I have seen you around and thought that we should get to know each other better.” He reaches his hand up, resting his hand around your neck and rubbing his thumb against the side of your neck. 

You let out a panicked sound, ripping the man's hand away from around your neck and stepping away from him, “What are you doing!?”  you shout as you make your way towards the door, but not putting your back towards him in fear for what might happen if you do. 

He lunged forward harshly, grabbing your wrist and pulling you into him, trapping you in his grasp. “Relax, you might end up liking it. You never know.” he sneered before. His heavy breathing fanning over your face, making you recoil in disgust, trying to free yourself from his arms. You begin screaming at the top of your lungs for help, hoping that someone will hear you and come to your rescue. 

 Loud bangs erupted from behind the mirror, and the sound of glass shattering echoed in the room. The man holding you throws you to the side, causing you to lose your balance, falling to the floor and smacking your head against the ground. At the harsh impact, black dots begin to swarm your vision; the last thing you hear as you succumb to the darkness is the thudding of heavy hits like someone was fighting. 

From the darkness, your Ghost had emerged when he heard your desperate screams for help. He had left you alone in the practice room for no longer than five minutes so that he would be able to leave a rose in your room like always, but this time, as he approached the practice room, instead of hearing you dancing around the room, he heard the sounds of your cries for help. Sending fear and anger throughout his body, without even thinking, Ghost threw himself into the two-way mirror, shattering it into a million pieces. At the sight of him emerging from behind the mirror, the man who held you captive threw your body to the ground as Ghost grabbed the man, unleashing punch after punch. The pathetic man tried fighting back, but it was no use; he didn’t stand a chance against the Ghost. 

After a couple of heavy hits, the man lays limp at Ghost's feet; whether he is dead or alive does not matter to him at all. The only thing on his mind was you. He walks over to you, carefully lifting your unconscious body into his arms, checking for injuries, and finding nothing too serious. He stands, cradling you to his chest, walking back to the gaping hole in the mirror. 

Reaching his liar hidden deep beneath the Opera House, Ghost gently places you down on his bed, whispering to your unconscious form, “Don’t worry, no one will ever hurt you again.” 

—-—-—-—-—-—-—-

Price, the owner of the Opera House, lets out a deep sigh at the letter from Ghost in his hands. He lits up a cigar, letting out a puff of smoke before standing and beginning to make his way to the practice dance room, muttering curses under his breath at another mess he has to clean up.

[genderqueerdykes]

TW: Transphobia, intentional misgendering/mentions of abuse, gaslighting, and generally gross behavior. You asked for experiences from transmasc people, so, here I am. I'm a transmasc person. Still figuring out what kind of person that is, but... I'm transmasc, which is what matters here. I've been told a LOT of harmful things in the community, both from abusers and from friends(who I no longer talk to). This is my experience. My first real experience with all of this was from a shitty ex, who at that point controlled my life and had identified as bi since he was 12. He denied me the ability to transition (I couldn't drive myself to the doctor and had no money to pay for more than the prescription), saying that I would turn into a monster and break up with him, abuse him, become violent, etc. He pressured me into using she/her pronouns along with he/they. I used genderfluid transmasc at the time as my labels, and he used this as an excuse to proudly call me "his wife in training", saying that because I didn't bind half the time, I was practically a woman. I'm now in therapy because while the term genderfluid fits, I legitimately get panicked when I try to use it because not only did he use it against me, but people used it to... detransify me. De-masc me.

Now, I'm a feminine person in some respects. I like a good accessory and bright colors and cute things. But because I wasn't performing hypermasculinity to become "a true man", people used genderfluid as a term to say "Well, clearly you're fine with female pronouns and terms because you wear earrings/paint your nails, and genderfluid falls in the scale of woman, so I'll just call you woman." People used the term so often to de-transify me, ESPECIALLY in the community.

When out and about, it does not matter if I have he/him or they/them pins on- people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

I'm nervous about top surgery sometime this year or next year. I want to keep a little bit of my chest, because I'm a larger person- but I'm legitimately worried my doctor will go against my wishes and give me a bird chest or carve out too much. I want top surgery not only because it will make me feel more like myself, but because my stupid chest is what EVERYONE points to- queer or non- and says that "but you have that, shouldn't you enjoy it?"

Being labeled a faker, a potential monster in the making, as someone who's just confused, and worst of all, being labeled as someone who didn't know what my own label meant... it's worn me down. I'm not sure what to do with myself, and am in gender therapy to unpack the trauma of what other people have placed onto me, both queer and cishet alike. I have quite a few understanding, loving friends in the community- but there have been just as many people who haven't understood and try to fit me into a box until I bled.

This stuff isn't just "oh silly transmasc! That's part of the experience! You just have to deal with it!" I don't, actually. And I refuse to. I refuse to give up the things I love for other people's assumptions of my body, label or identity. Even if it hurts to fight back, I'm tired of letting transphobes inside and outside our community harm me based on what THEY think I should be. This is my story. Sorry if it's bleak, but... that's the truth. I hope it helps others see that blaming us for all the harm the community faces, and making us into your blank dolls to play with, breaks us. It's awful. Please, treat us better. We deserve better. We always have.

Thank you for letting us share our stories.

thank you for taking the time to type this out and share, i really appreciate it. this is very insightful and important. i can't believe how awful people are to you. that shouldn't be happening. i don't want to take away from your story so i'll keep it brief

people, even queer people, CONSISTENTLY read me as transfeminine even though I'm the opposite. I love trans women, but that's not what I am- and to be agressively labeled female by people who mean well and aggressively labeled male in a "you're just a monster masquerading as a female" way from strangers who are transphobic feels like absolute dogshit.

this happens so often. this is what i mean when i say that trans men and mascs are also affected by transmisogyny. many people mistake trans men and mascs for trans women and transfems. it's a real thing and we need to acknowledge it.

[blushingbubbles]

Fantasy: You have an in-person freeuse toy day with all of your followers invited

(exempt from forbidden-words rule)

if i had an in-person free use toy day, id have to rent an entertainment venue 🫠 but let's pretend that hypothetically everyone can fit into a very very large airbnb.

it's ten minutes before the front door opens for the first time. The squeaking hinges hesitate for a moment. Whoever's on the stoop didn't actually think it would be unlocked.

I'd gotten sooo many messages in the days before -- promises of what was to come, yes. But also concern that this was some large-scale practical joke.

but the first one enters. he's wearing heavy boots. behind him, another crosses the threshold. 11 minutes since i posted the address. the idea was that rather have a specific start time, i'd post the address when i was ready. until 12 minutes ago, the only thing anyone had was the city and the date.

anyone who'd gotten an invite had been vetted. everything had been planned and purchased and positioned. water in every room. alcohol in the fridge. toys lined up across the kitchen island.

the two men greet one another, and my heart beats sooo loudly. my throat dries up and i peek my head around the corner.

when they see me they pause, they both kinda tilt their head at me -- like how every dominant does when they're surprised? subs know what i mean.

they ask me how im doing and another comes in the now-open door. no reason to close it now... at their suggestion, i give them a tour of the airbnb. the bedrooms and bathrooms and backyard and pool. as we walk, hands begin brushing me. my tits, my waist, my hair. they praise me on how ive become such a good internet slut in the last months. they tell me about how many times id gotten them off -- what pictures of me they like the most. what tasks i performed for them (some of which i remember, but most of which i don't -- it's not my place to remember it's my place to obey)

it's not long before my shirt ends up on the floor. im not even really sure why i wore one. they're not sure either. they laugh at me for it, and i laugh too because they're right. it was silly of me, dressing for tonight. im still nervous until one of them tells me to kneel.

i feel much better like this. on the ground looking up at them. more enter, but im not counting how many surround me now. the newcomers are pointed in the direction of the alcohol while the others begin unbuckling their pants. and the nerves still exist -- the excitement still flutters -- until i put the first cock in my mouth

the second it passes my lips and thick fingers thread through my hair, i feel myself release every anxiety and nerve about the night. a night that i knew would stretch into the weekend.

as im sucking, more hands grope my tits and ass. someone binds my hands. another person clamps my nipples. the gasp of pain i make causes the grip on my hair to tighten. i lose track of time, but he spills down my throat. before i have a chance to close my jaw, another takes his place.

over the day, im fucked in every position i can thinkof (and some positions i cant). videos are taken from every angle. as agreed beforehand, im given a break every hour to confirm im still of sound consenting mind. im given water and snacks and more gropes for at least five minutes. sometimes i need more time, but mostly i hardly make it to 3 before im desperate to serve again. whenever others need a break, they play in the pool or watch tv or watch me. but im used all. day. long.

eventually, it's time for the agreed-upon bedtime. im flooded with aftercare until im all blushy and soft. someone helps by washing the sweat and mess off me. im sent to bed with food, company, and enough gummies to take out a horse. i take them greedily, knowing that that night, others will touch and breed my holes while i sleep.

i wake up soooo full of cum that i want to plug myself to keep it all inside. instead, im cleaned again. used again. that next day, the ones who stayed will stream the videos they took to the tv. they'll edge me to my own porn and make me count how many times i helped others get off. if i get the count wrong or hesitate they'll start all over. they'll coo about how much of a good slut i was, letting them use me like this.

by monday, every video will be posted online. when i get home, i'll edge to every one of them, taking note of how everyone else's face is blurred, everyone else's privacy protected, except for my own 😇

in a writing mood today :) send me ur fantasies of making me a freeuse toy and ill expand on them :)))

[a-babe-without-a-name]

Sit Next To Me Before You Go

Chapter 1: To a Good Fucking Semester.

You had created two rules for yourself. Rule One: You could do whatever you wanted. Get the degree you want, party when you want, cancel plans when you want, love who you want. Whatever you really wanted to do, you were going to do, anxiety and guilt free. Rule Two: You could do whatever you wanted, except for have relationships with classmates. No sex, no dating. If they were on the same course roster as you, they were off limits. Easy enough, right? ...Right?

Viktor x Female!Reader - 18+

A.N. Very proud of myself for getting my own thing out of my google docs and onto the internet for once. This is very self indulgent and possibly a little ooc, but it's an AU so who cares?

Also, biggest shout out in the world to @hivemuthur. I am the biggest fan of their writing and I'm obsessed with their fic The Game of Teaching Body. I hadn't even considered writing a college au until I read Teaching Body and now I'm fully in it. I've really regained my love for writing fanfic for myself as opposed to an audience and it's definitely because of them. Anyways, all love to them and if you haven't already, go read everything that they've written asap!

Another Author Note: No smut in this chapter, but chapter 2 is already posted ;)

Read on AO3

You were going to take this semester seriously. Your 5th of your college career, first of Junior year, this was the time to get serious. If you fuck up now, the chances of having to take an extra semester went up by an uncomfortable percentage. Yeah, you were going to take this semester very very seriously…key word were. Then Jayce and Cait decided to throw a party at their house. A huge ‘welcome back’ thing that was sure to be very fun and very well attended. Jayce was one of your closest friends, it would be offensive honestly if you didn’t show up to his first party of the year. Syllabi reviews and practice tests could wait until Sunday. 

You dug through your small closet in search of something to wear that hadn’t already been worn to a dozen other house parties. At this point half your clothing was pulled off their hangers and tossed on your bed. You pulled a light blue baby tee off a hanger, the low neckline was lined with a hint of lace.

“How’s this?” You held the shirt up to show Lest, already ready and scrolling through her phone

“Very cute,” Her freckled face looking at you upside down, “Not with that skirt, though.” She pointed to the button up denim skirt you had put on earlier.

“With what then?” You pulled on the top. 

“Must I dress you everyday,” Lest whined half heartedly.

“Well, yeah. What other reason would I willingly live with a fashion major?” You joked.

“Because you’re in love with me, obviously,” She scoffed, rolling off her bed and straightening her dress as she stood, “Do you still have those black shorts? The boxy ones with the high waist?”

“Er, yes…” You said hesitantly, opening a dresser drawer and digging through your pants until you found them. Next to you Lest began putting your clothes back on their hangers, “Yes, I do.”

You stripped off your skirt, handing it to Lest when she reached for it to hang up, and pulled on the shorts. You looked at yourself in the mirror, content enough with the outfit. It was a little boring, but at least it was comfortable.

“And lose the bra,” Lest poking the side of your boob, looking at you over your shoulder in the mirror, “Trust me.”

You purse your lips in the mirror, but shrugged and took the  suggestion anyways. Reaching behind your back to unclip your bra and toss it to the side.

“Better?” You asked, posing dramatically for her.

“Perfect,” She gave you a dramatic smile, her nose scrunching, “Now grab your stuff, the Uber will be here in 5.”

“Oh, fuck Lest, I’m not ready.” You whined, scrambling around your room to grab your things.

“Well get ready then, we have a party to get to!” She opened your door and gave a cheeky wave over her shoulder as she disappeared into the hallway. 

The party was in full swing when you and Lest reached Jayce and Cait’s house. The front yard was mostly empty, only a few stragglers wandering in and out, but the bass of the music could be felt from the street and colorful lights flashed in the front window. A sudden spark of excitement twisted in your stomach. It had been months since you last spent actual time with most of your friends. You had seen a handful of them in passing during this first week of classes, but you quickly realized that the free hours you had between classes didn’t line up with anyone else's. You missed your people and couldn't wait for another year with them by your side. 

You grabbed Lest by the hand, walking quicker up to the front door. You shoved open the door as much as you could, a wall of awkward freshmen hovering at the entrance blocking the way. You could feel the beat of a Pitbull song in your throat as you moved through the house. You opened the closet under the stairs, a hasty “Housemates Only” sign taped to the door. You and Lest were included in this of course, as were a handful of other friends close to Jayce and Cait. The bags tossed on the floor told you exactly who was here already. You added yours to the mix and continued to push through sweaty bodies in search of your friends. 

You found them in the kitchen. Mel was sitting on the counter, Jayce leaning against the edge between her legs, his back pressed against her chest. Cait was securely under Vi’s arm, hiding her laugh behind the red cup in her hand. You were surprised to see that even Sky had shown up, awkwardly sipping at a can of seltzer and hovering next to Jayce. 

When Mel spotted you pushing through the other people in the kitchen she gasped! Excitedly pushing Jayce away so she could hop off the counter. She squealed your name, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and squeezing harder than a girl her height should be able to. She pulled away and put her forehead to yours, widening her eyes with a dumb grin.

“Hi, Melly-Bear!” You giggled, glad she always kept up with the same silly greeting, “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too, Darling,” Her pretty accent only slightly slurred on alcohol. You could smell something fruity on her breath.

She pulled away, giving you one more hug before letting you go to greet the others. Jayce hugged you as Mel accosted Lest next. 

“Thought you bailed on us,” Jayce laughed, pulling a can out of the ice filled sink and popping it open before handing it to you. Always a gentleman. 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” You practically had to shout over the music, “Wardrobe struggles.”

“That’s what you landed on?” Jayce teased, raising an eyebrow.

“Actually it’s what Lest landed on,” You snarked up at him, “Don’t insult the love of my life.”

“I think your outfit is cute!” Sky slurred, looking around Jayce, her cheeks were flushed already. She was definitely drunker than you had thought she was, “and your tits look amazing.”

“Thank you very much Sky,” You said with exaggerated politeness, and then quietly to Jayce, “She’s fucked up.”

“I know, we’re keeping an eye on her,” He nodded, pulling a beer out of the sink behind you.

“Who’s sober tonight?” You asked as Mel rejoined you and wrapped an arm around Jayce’s waist.

“That would be me,” Vi said across from you, raising a half hearted hand.  

““Drew the short straw, huh? Tragic,” Lest said, shaking her head with mock pity.

“She can have fun sober,” Cait insisted, pointedly taking a sip of her own drink.

“Exactly!” You teased, “Well you have your sober fun, the rest of us are gonna do tequila shots.”

“Brilliant idea!” Mel gasped, clasping her hands together.

She got to work, pulling out plastic shot glasses from the cupboard and carefully filling them with the shitty tequila Jayce kept around for when everyone was already drunk. Cait opened the fridge behind her, the bright light from it jarring in the dark kitchen, and pulled out a tupperware of cut up lime. She passed the container and a shaker of salt around, and Mel handed out the little cups, making sure Sky received the one with cold water in it.

“Hey Vi, where’s Jinx and Ekko?” You asked as you took a piece of lime, realizing the youngest members of your little group were missing.

“They’re at that concert,” She told you, taking Cait’s cup so she could hold her shot.

“Oh shit, I didn’t realize it was tonight.” You said, licking the back of your hand and shaking salt onto it.

“Lame, they definitely would have had more fun here,” Mel sighed dramatically, setting down the container of limes and salt after everyone had gotten some. 

“Wait, where’s V?” Jayce asked Cait, she shrugged.

“Who?” Lest asked, taking a small sniff of the tequila and scrunching her nose.

“Viktor, he’s our new roommate,” Jayce said, “I’ve known him forever. He’s the best, y’all will like him.”

He turned looking out into the crowd of people on the other side of the breakfast bar, squinting like that would actually help him find the guy.

“Viktor!” He shouted, when there was no response he tsked, “probably snuck off to his room. Not really a party guy.” Jayce told you with a shrug, “Next time, I guess.”

Your circle of friends gathered a little closer, excited to be all back together again after the boring summer months. Jayce held up his shot, everyone else followed suit.

“To a good fucking semester!” He said triumphantly.

“To a good fucking semester!” Everyone shouted back, lifting their shots just a little higher before licking the salt off their hands and shooting, a round of groans following as they bit into the limes. The fruit did nothing to make the shitty tequila taste any better.  

“Yeah, not feelin’ too bad about being the sober one right now,” Vi grimaced, sipping on an energy drink instead. 

Lest grabbed you by the hand, pulling you to the living room where all of the furniture had been pushed against the walls. With your drink still in hand, you moved with her to the beat of the music. Your focus on each other keeping away any unwanted attention in the crowded space. The other joined you eventually, Sky sliding up to you and Lest. You put your hands on her hips - stiff even when she was drunk - you pulled her closer to you. Lest moved so Sky was between you and her. Sky’s face reddened, the drinks and closeness making her blush creep all the way up to her pretty hairline.

“I’m glad you came out,” You leaned in close so she could hear you, “This is your first party right?”

“Yeah,” She shouted back, beginning to loosen up in your hands, “I’m…I’m so drunk.” She admitted, you could see the apology behind her eyes.

“Don’t worry about it,” You told her, “Everyone gets too fucked up the first time they go out, it’s inevitable.”

“Really?” She asked, hopeful.

“Yeah, of course,” You nodded, leaning in further to talk in her ear, your cheek rubbing against hers, “At my first party, I got so drunk off canned wine that I took my bra off and tossed it in someone's pool.”

“No!” She gasped, pulling back slightly to see if you were lying.

“Yep, everyone has to pay their dues to the party gods,” You shrugged, feeling Lest’s hand brush against yours on Sky’s waist, “So don’t worry about being too drunk. Just relax and let yourself have fun. Vi is the responsible one tonight, she won’t let anything happen to you.”

Sky nodded, relaxing into you and Lest. Time blurred as the three of you danced. Mel and Jayce and Cait and Vi somewhere close by. Each song faded into the next, only your favorites standing out. Sometimes the beat of the song would pull you away from Sky and Lest, the three of you wanting more room to dance and move. Others pulled you flush against Sky’s back, your hips grinding against her to the rhythm of the song. The only moments where you stopped dancing was when your drink needed to be replaced. 

Your body was aching by the time Sky stopped moving, breathing heavily.

“I’m gonna go get water,” She shouted over the music, “It’s so hot in here.”

“Okay, do you want someone to go with you?” You asked, still lightly moving to the beat.

“No, I’m okay,” She laughed, shaking her head, “I think I’m gonna take a break…forever.”

“Okay, find us or text the group chat if you need anything, okay?” She grinned and gave a thumbs up as she snaked through the crowd back towards the kitchen. 

You swished your drink around in its can, debating if you wanted another or not.  A heavy hand landed on your shoulder, interrupting the thought. You gasped, yanking your shoulder away and whipping around angrily to whoever grabbed you. 

“Easy there tiger,” Jayce laughed, side eyeing you , “Have you considered this is why you’re single.”

“Have you considered my boot in your ass?” You snapped, but relaxed your shoulders anyways.

“No, but I have considered kicking your ass at rage cage,” He shrugged.

“In your dreams, Talis” You scoffed, following him to the dining table.

Mel was arranging a large cluster of plastic cups on the table, Cait and Vi already cracking cans and pouring a little bit into each. Some freshmen were hanging around, hesitant to join the game. Mel picked up a half empty cup from the center, extending it out to you.

“Your contribution?” She asked, as you peered into the cup. It was already a cloudy mix of beer and seltzer and backwash. You tipped the remnants of your can into the cup. She went around, having the freshman pour bits of their own drinks into the Bitch Cup. 

“Anyone allergic to cinnamon?” Jayce asked, holding up a handle of Fireball with a smirk.

“Ew, why do you even have that?” You grimaced as he poured a shot into the cup.

“What? You don’t fuck with Fireball and Dr.Pepper?” He asked, tilting another shot into the cup.

“Nobody should,” You fake gagged, “But go ahead and keep pouring it in if you love it so much, you’ll be the one drinking it.”

“Delusional,” Jayce shrugged, setting himself up at the other side of the table, tossing one ping pong ball to you and testing the bounce of the other, “You're delusional.”

Mel began explaining the rules to the couple of freshies that hadn’t played before. They nodded with false confidence.

“Wait, where’s V?” He asked, standing up straight and looking around the crowd for his elusive friend again.

“He was here a minute ago,” Violet told him, looking around as well. At this point you weren't sure that he wasn’t a made up guy.

“He keeps disappearing,” Jayce pouted, and then to you, competitive air completely gone in the moment, “I wanted you to meet him. He’s cool, you’ll get along.”

“Jayce, babe, he’s probably out making new friends on his own,” Mel laughed, “You know, that thing people do at parties.”

“Boo, lame. He needs to be friends with all of my friends, first,” Jaye pouted, and then without warning snatched up one of the perimeter cups, downed the contents, and began trying to bounce the ball into it. 

“Oh, fuck you!” You yelped, grabbing a cup and drinking it so quickly you barely tasted what it was. It was cheap beer. The aftertaste clung to the back of your throat, making you cringe as you tried to get the ball in the cup before the other one caught up.

You blinked down at the complete stack of cups in front of you, horrified at the outcome of this game. Jayce shook with laughter across from you, bracing himself on the dining room table. 

“I was set up!” You insisted, gesturing to the freshman that had set the cup to the right of you every time they got it in on the first try, “I don’t even know these kids and they were against me the whole time! What’d you do, Talis? Pay them?”

“Don’t accuse me of bribery!” He gasped, mock offended as he wiped tears away, “This is what you get for being cocky.”

“Fuck you, man, this is misogyny!” You crossed your arms over your chest, pouting.

“Sure is! Now, drink the Bitch Cup like a lady,” He smirked, extending the nearly overflowing red cup. 

You peered into the cup, nauseous spit flooding the back of your mouth at the cloudy liquid. At the look on your face, Jayce hesitated.

“I mean, I like fireball, I don’t mind helping you out,” He could barely hide his cringe as he offered to help. 

“No way,” You snapped, taking the cup. You'd rather have a hangover from hell than anyone's pity, “I’m not a pussy.”

You took a deep breath and began to drink from the cup. Tilting it back as much as you could without dumping it all over yourself. The girls were chanting your name, urging you on. The taste was awful, the burn of the whiskey was worse. Cinnamon and sour beer overpowered your senses as you drained the cup, breathing in through your nose. Little streams of liquid dripped down the corners of your mouth as you neared the bottom. You finished it off with a shudder. Gasping and fighting back the urge to gag, your stomach turning.

 “I’m gonna get water,” You grimaced, dropping the empty cup into the stack instead of dinging it off Jayce’s head like you wanted to

“Proud of you!” Jayce teased as you walked away, you flipped him off with both hands as you backed into the kitchen.

At this point in the night Jayce’s house was at max capacity, and the kitchen was especially crowded. You pushed through people to get to the counter, searching for a clean cup. Only the plastic bag they had come in was left behind, red cups scattered around the counter with varying amounts of liquid in them.

“Animals,” You muttered, huffing at the lack of options and incredible waste. 

You pushed through the crowd again, trying to get to the far side of the kitchen to get a glass instead. You found Sky sitting on the counter, taking down to someone leaning on the counter next to her, a solo cup in her hand. 

“Sky! My sweet baby angel,” You gasped, sliding between her knees and wrapping your arms around her waist in a tight hug. You could feel the liquor from the bitch cup throwing you off balance. You reached up, cupping her face in your hands, “Promise me you will never ever play a drinking game, you’re too good for that.”

Sky giggled, pressing her face to your palm. She didn’t seem any less drunk than earlier.

“That’s water right?” You nodded to the cup in her hand, leaning away from her and bringing your hands down to her knees.

“Yep,” She nodded, extending the cup towards your face, “Want a sip?”

You let her tip some into your mouth, accepting the drink mostly to confirm that it was actually water. Luckily it was.

“Thanks babe,” You said, pulling away and wiping your mouth on the back of your hand. You suddenly remembered she had been talking to someone before you walked up, “But, I’m gonna get my own.”

You looked over to who she was talking to and found yourself a little surprised. He wasn’t someone you recognized, but he looked too old to be a freshman. What really threw you off was the fact that he was intimidatingly beautiful. Even in the low lighting he had the most gorgeous amber eyes and a bone structure that rivaled any model. You realized not only were you caught off guard, but now you were staring. Sky didn’t notice she continued talking about whatever they had been talking about before you showed up, but he did. A small motion of his brows, perfect eyes narrowing just slightly. 

You threw walls up, trying to cover your embarrassment with attitude. You leaned in just slightly, narrowing your eyes as you looked up at him and reached up towards his shoulder. Judging by the way he shifted back slightly, his eyes glancing to your hand with just a little bit of confusion, you were able to trip him up just the same. 

“S’cuse me, Pretty Boy,” You said, your lips forming a crooked smile, “Just tryna’ get a glass.”

His mouth formed a small ‘o’ shape and he stepped over quickly, leaning against Sky’s legs. You opened the cabinet and pulled out a glass. Not acknowledging him as you went through the motions, but very aware of where he was. You grabbed Sky’s knee before walking away.

“Find me if you wanna dance again, okay?” You told her, she gave a squinty smile and nodded before you walked away. 

You heard Jayce’s voice in your head. Have you considered this is why you’re single?

It was just after midnight and the party still showed no real signs of slowing. You and Jayce had tapped out on drinking but were still having a good time. You both leaned near the back door, watching the others play a round of beer pong. Lest and Mel had teamed up against Cait and Vi and unfortunately, due to Vi’s soberness,were getting crushed. You laughed as another ball splashed into a cup on Lest and Mel’s side. 

“Nooo!” Lest whined dramatically, dragging her hands down her perfect face. She picked up the cup anyways, downing the contents and setting it to the side. 

“I think we’re rooting for the wrong team here,” Jayce laughed in the middle of your conversation, swirling red gatorade around in his cup, 

“Hey, unless I’m playing, I don’t take sides,” You held your hands up in defence. 

You and Jayce both looked up at the ceiling pretending to be really interested in the lights when Lest and Mel turned to glare at you.

You dropped the act when they turned away. Jayce laughed, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Yeah, honestly, I’m really excited to get a jump on capstone.” He told you, “I mean, we don’t have to technically do anything until next year, but It'll be nice to be ahead, we’ll make more progress for sure.”

“We?” You asked, you hadn’t noticed the plural earlier in the conversation.

“Yeah, now that Viktor transferred we’re gonna do our capstone together!” He was excited to bring up his friend again, “We’ll be doing the same amount of work as we would be if we were working separately, but still, both of our ideas are better when we work together.”

“Ya know, that’s nice and all, but I still don’t believe this Viktor guy exists,” You shrugged, “I mean all night it's been ‘where’s Viktor?’ ‘Where's Viktor?’ But doesn’t he live here? Why haven't I seen him?”

“I swear on my mother he’s real,” Jayce said, rubbing a hand down his face, “He’s not really a party guy, but he said he’d stay and party and meet people. Honestly, I think that lasted about an hour and a half before he bailed. He probably drove down to the pier to smoke a cigarette and listen to Alex Turner or something.”

You scoffed, “Sounds like an interesting guy.”

“Hey, don’t judge him before you see him.” He insisted, “He’s quiet, but he’s not shy or weird, ya know? He’s cool, trust me.”

“Damn, you really have a hard on for this guy,” You teased. Jayce always talked about people like this, you were sure he saw his friends the same way as he saw stars in the sky.

“Hey, I won’t deny it. If I was into guys, he’d be the one for me.” Jayce assured, and then backtracked when Mel shot him a look, “IF, I said. But I’m not, I’m not into girls either, not unless their name is Mel Medarda. I’m Mel-Sexual.”

“Okay, reel it in a little bit,” Mel said, rolling her eyes but laughing with him anyways.

You were about to suggest a study hangout on Sunday night, it would be a good chance to both confirm that Viktor was in fact real and get your practice tests done before class. Just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sliding door opened and a couple of boys fell into the house. In their drunken shoving of each other as they came in, one slammed right into Jayce’s back causing his drink to splash almost completely onto you. You curse, wiping red Gatorade off your chin.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry,” He said hands hovering front of him for a moment before he rounded on the boys, they didn’t even acknowledge what happened, “Okay fuckers, you’re done.” He grabbed both of them by the back of the shirt and began hauling them towards the door, “Go home, no more Rune Street Parties for you two.” 

“Oh shit,” Lest said, inspecting the mess on your shirt, the red dye of the drink splashed dramatically over the blue fabric.

“Damn, I just got this top,” You pouted as Jayce came back.

“Dude, I am so sorry,” He rubbed his forehead, “I should have kicked them out sooner, they’ve been obnoxious all night. Listen, I have clothes in the dryer, you can go throw your top in the wash and steal a t-shirt.”

You thought for a second, wondering if the $15 shirt was worth the trouble of Jayce’s offer. You sighed and nodded.

“Okay, thanks,” You frowned, the drink making you feel sticky.

“Of course, you remember how to use that washer, right?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’ll just do a quick wash and come back when it’s done.” You told him, sliding open the door.

“Yeah, text me if you need anything.” He told you as you stepped into the backyard. 

This past summer you had done summer research until the end of June, during that time you had sublet a room in the house. Grateful to not have been holed up in a hotel room for a month. It was a great house, almost perfect even. Its only real quirk was the fact that the washer and dryer were installed in a small garage at the very back of the yard. There were a few people milling about, smoking and drinking on the deck, but the further you got into the yard, the less kids were around. Everyone in the house smoked in the garage, it was comfier than sitting in the weather sometimes, and kept the neighbors from complaining. 

The garage wasn’t off limits to anybody, but unless Jayce invited people in, it usually went unused during parties. No one thinking to look inside for a place to sit. Tonight, though, you could see the light inside turned on. The warm light shining through the thin curtains Cait had put up. 

You paused outside the door, listening for what might be happening on the other side. When you were sure that you weren’t going to walk in on anyone fucking, you went inside. You couldn’t help the smile that pulled at the corners of your mouth.

Pretty Boy was sitting on one of the couches shoved into the small space. He didn’t react to you opening the door, the wired earbuds he was wearing prevented him from hearing you. You took a moment to look at him in better lighting without being caught. His head was tipped against the back of the couch, eyes closed. His dark lashes bushed against the top of his cheeks that were flushed with just a little bit of pink. The lines of his jaw and throat were perfect, a couple of beauty marks standing out against his pale skin. One hand was tapping out the beat on the arm of the couch, smoke slowly rising half gone joint between his fingers. You wondered if his hands were warm or cold. 

‘Okay creeper��� You thought to yourself shaking the thoughts away from your head, ‘that’s enough.’

You shut the door harder than you normally would, unable to think of another way to get his attention. He furrowed his eyebrows and sat up, finally looking at you by the door. He pulled his earbuds out.

“Hey Pretty Boy,” You smirked, not letting yourself be pinned under his gaze.

“What happened to you?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. You realized that you hadn't heard him speak earlier in the house, the accent he had was interesting. He tilted his head, waiting for a response.

“Oh, uh, Jayce happened,” You scoffed, shaking your head and pulling the bottom of your shirt away to look at the mess, “I’m sure he’d cover my entire life in Red-40 if he could.”

“Hm, unfortunate,” He muttered, “It’s a nice shirt.”

“Well hopefully drowning it in Tide will save it,” You shrugged, opening up the washing machine. 

He watched as you grabbed a Metallica t-shirt out of the half folded basket of laundry on the counter. You were sure Jayce had never listened to a Metallica song in his life. Pretty Boy continued to watch you as you held the shirt in your hands, fidgeting and staring at him awkwardly. When he didn’t take the hint, you turned your back to him fully and peeled the sticky shirt off. You wished you could do something about the Gatorade dried on your skin before putting on the clean shirt, but oh well.

When you turned around he was looking the other direction, but you could see that his face was flushed red all the way to his ears. You snorted, rolling your eyes at him. The fastest cycle on Jayce’s washer was still 25 minutes. Not ideal, but it’d have to do. You tossed the stained shirt into the drum, poured a little too much detergent in, and started it up. 

“Hm, you better work, bitch.” You whispered to the machine, suddenly worried about the fate of your top.

“Are you talking to the washer?” He turned back around to face you.

“I’m encouraging her.” You said seriously, sitting on the other arm of the couch, “There’s, like, 25 minutes on the cycle, cool if I wait here?”

“I’m not going to stop you,” He said, placing the joint between his teeth and relighting it. 

The cherry glowed as he inhaled, smoke pouring out of his perfect nose as he exhaled. He looked back over to you, extending the joint out, both an offer and question. You considered for a second, before taking it. The way he held it to you didn’t allow enough skin contact for you to tell what his hands felt like. They were pretty up close, slender but not dainty. 

“So,” You began, sliding off the arm to sit more comfortably and taking a hit, “Why’re you out here all alone, Pretty Boy?”

“Hm, didn’t like the music,” He said casually, picking at the frayed edge of the couch cushion.

“Nobody actually likes party music,” You laughed, dragging your knees to your chest and resting your chin against them, “It’s just to drown out any thoughts that the alcohol didn’t already get rid of.”

“Very introspective,” He nodded. You weren’t sure that it was.

“Well, what’re you listening to instead, then?” You glanced down at his phone next to him, music still playing faintly through the earbuds.

He picked up the phone and yanked the cord out. 

“-er’s lovers to be had, those walls will make sinners out of such lovely lads,” played out of the small speakers.

“Oh, this is a good one,” You nodded along to the Arctic Monkeys song, smirking when you said, “Definitely better than David Guetta. Playlist or album?”

“Album,” He told you, accepting the joint back after you took another hit.

“So you’re the kinda guy to hide away in the garage with British indie rock and bad weed?”

“First of all, it is not bad weed, it is subpar weed,” He defended, “And second, I’m not hiding. If I were hiding, I wouldn’t have been found.”

“Kinda seems like you’re hiding,” You shrugged, taking back the subpar weed, “I mean, Sky seemed real interested in you and you’re out here instead of with her.”

“Sky went home actually,”

“And you didn’t go with her?!”

“Her roommate took her home, she was smashed.”

“Sky doesn’t have a roommate.” You told him, furrowing your eyebrows.

“What?” He sat upright, horror on his face.

A crooked grin plastered your face, “Kidding, kidding.”

“That was very fucked up,” He huffed, putting a hand to his forehead as he fell back against the couch.

“Sorry, it was too good an opportunity to pass up,” You hid your laugh against your knee, “l am glad Sky got home, though. Her roommate is a little weird, I’ve never seen her at a party before.”

“Her? I thought Sky’s roommate was a man?” Pretty Boy tilted his head and your stomach dropped, you were sure you’d never be able to breathe again before a cheeky smile tugged at his lips.

“Fuck you, Pretty Boy.” You gasped, dropping your forehead to your knees, heart hammering like you’d just run a marathon.

“I’m sorry,” He laughed, and then, “it was too good an opportunity to pass up.”

“I deserved that,” You blinked, lips pursed.

Realizing the joint had gone out, you swiped a lighter off the table. You sat criss cross on the couch facing him.

“Still,” You said around the joint as you lit it, “Fucked up or not, she seemed to like you alot, probably wound’t have minded you around.”

He scoffed, rolling his eyes as you steered back towards that line of thought, “Sky is nice.”

“Ouch,” You cringed, “Sky is nice…but?”

“She is nice, but she’s… too nice,” He said slowly, trying to find the right words, “She’s amazing, but definitely the kind of girl who would want to marry the first guy that fucks her.”

“You’re assuming she’s a virgin?” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“Tell me, is my assumption wrong?” He asked with a tight smile, like he already knew your answer.

“Well, no,” You ducked your head, “But don’t tell anyone I said that.”

“Said what?” He raised an eyebrow, you snorted a laugh at the response, “And hey, I think it is absolutely fine if people want to marry their first. I, however, am not, eh, compatible with those kinds of people.”

“That’s fair,” You scoffed, passing the joint back over to him. 

You didn’t realize the high creeping in during your conversation. It was on you know, though, clouding your brain and making your head feel heavy and your thoughts chase eachother in circles. You shifted again, moving to sit properly on the couch, the heels of your hightops propped on the edge of the messy coffee table. Pretty Boy was back to tapping along to the beat of his music, equally as stoned. You felt the threadbare fabric under your fingertips, hand gliding across the couch cushion next to you as you zoned out. When your movement produced a crackling package sound, you stopped. Head lolling as you frowned and lifted your palm. The spiky edge of a packet was sticking out from between the cushions. You pulled it out.

“Ha!” You snorted a laugh when you realized what it was.

“Hm?” Pretty Boy hummed next to you, looking over.

“Pokemon cards,” You and Jayce had gotten these at a gas station sometime last year, wanting to learn how to play, “I forgot about these.” 

You pulled the cards out of the already torn wrapper, only four remained. You turned over the first card, a Solrock. 

“Smash or pass?” You snorted and held the card out for Pretty Boy to see.

“Pardon?” He raised his eyebrows at you.

“Smash or pass?” You insisted, like you were asking him the time of day.

“I don’t understand.” He told you, shaking his head.

“Would you have consensual sex with - smash- this being, or not - pass-?” You explained.

“It’s…it’s a- what even is it?” He looked at it in almost horror.

“It’s Solrock, duh. It’d be warm,” You offered, “C’mon, it’s not like you have to marry it,”

“Pass,” He said with a heavy sigh.

“See, was that so hard?” You teased, holding up the next card, “Xatu, smash or pass?”

“That’s a bird.” 

“He’s a handsome bird, very stoic and responsible looking.”

“”Wait,” He stopped you, “You didn’t tell me your decision, that is not fair. Smash or pass Solrock?”

“Oh, pass for sure,” You told him, “the spikes are too obvious, who knows where they’ve been.”

“You thought too much about that,” He plucked the Xatu card from your hand, looking at it closer, “ What about this one?”

“Like I said, stoic and handsome, smash.” 

“Hm, interesting.” He handed the card back to you, “Pass.”

“Lopunny, smash or pass?” You said, smirking as you flipped the next card because you knew exactly what he would say.

“Eh, pass…” He said, hesitation clear.

“Nah, don’t lie,” You teased, “I won’t tell anybody. Just admit you want to fuck the sexy rabbit pokemon.”

“Nope, pass,” He tried to hold firm, but your expectant look drew a groan. He dropped his head into his hands, “...smash.”

“I knew it,” You poked his side, grinning, “Me too, smash all the way.”

“If you tell anybody,” He warned, holding a finger up at you.

“I just told you I’d smash Xatu,” You deadpanned, flipping over the last card. “Which is definitely more controversial. Here, last one.”

You held up the Onix card to him, “Smash or Pass?”

“It’s a rock worm,” He scoffed, “Pass, clearly.”

“First of all, he’s a rock snake,” You cleared up, “And second, smash.”

“What!?” His mouth fell open, blinking at you.

“Look at his face! It’s about the emotion,” You defended, “He looks…determined, driven. Attractive qualities.”

“Sometimes I wish I could be in other people's heads,” He scoffed, relighting the joint once more, “Just for a minute.” 

“It’s better you stay in your own pretty head,” You told him, smirking as you lent back against the sofa. You didn’t realize it but over the course of your silly little game you had gotten very close. Your shoulder was practically behind his, you could smell his cologne and feel the heat of his thigh pressed to yours, “You’d never be the same once being in mine.”

“Jasně,” He muttered as you blew smoke out of his nose again, handing the joint over to you. 

You took a hit. Curiosity getting the better of you, you asked, “Where are you from?”

“Česko,” He looked down at you, face closer than you expected, “You people call it Czechia.”

“Oh, where is that?” You had heard of the country, but couldn’t think of where it was exactly.

“In Europe.” He told you, his pupils were blown out.

“I know that,” You scoffed, bumping your shoulder against his and rolling your eyes, “Where in Europe? I’m bad at geography, explain it to me.”

He smirked softly, you could imagine his accent saying ‘Americans’ in your head, “It’s East of Germany, South of Poland, west of Slovakia and North of Austria. It’s in central Europe.”

“Hm, okay, see that was helpful,” You said, gesturing around with your hands, “What brought you to the U.S.?”

“Piltover, specifically the engineering program,” You weren’t surprised, that was why most people attended the University of Piltover, “You ask a lot of questions.”

“You think that’s a lot?” You snorted, “I can ask plenty more.”

“Eh, not necessary,” He protested with a flit of his hand, as you began asking him rapid fire questions.

“What year are you?”

A moment, and then a resigned, “I’m in my 3rd year.”

“How old are you?”

“22.”

“Cats or dogs?” 

“Neither, really, but cats if I have to pick.”

“Tea or Coffee?”

“Whatever is available as long as it’s highly caffeinated.” His lopsided smile grew a little with each question, the game of feigning annoyance over. 

“Ah, a true STEM student,” You raised your eyebrows and laughed, leaning against him for a moment before pulling away, “What’s your favorite color?”

“Today, light blue. Tomorrow, who knows.” 

“Do you want to make out?”

-----

Chapter 2

[bingbongsupremacy]

Pretend Date

Pairing: Peter Parker x reader

Warning: slight reader insecurity

Summary: Peter likes MJ. You really like Peter. When Peter asks you to pretend to be his date to a party to make MJ jealous, at first you're hesitant. You end up giving in and agreeing. After all, how bad could it really be?

*Not Proof Read*

□□□□□□□□

I should’ve known something was up the second Peter Parker sat down next to me at lunch, his face scrunched in the same way it did whenever he was overthinking—eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed together, and one of his hands fidgeting with the sleeve of his sweater. He looked nervous, which wasn’t uncommon. Peter was always nervous.

But Peter was nervous around me, which wasn’t normal.

"Hey, uh, can I ask you something?" he said, pushing his food around his tray. His brown eyes flickered up to meet mine, then darted away just as fast.

I swallowed my bite of sandwich. "That depends. Is it about physics? Because if so, I’d like to remind you that I barely passed the last test, and I am not the study partner you want."

His lips quirked up for a second before he shook his head. "No, it’s, um, something else. It’s kind of a favor?"

Peter Parker, my best friend, the boy I had been quietly in love with since freshman year, was asking me for a favor. That was dangerous. Because if he asked me for anything—literally anything—I would probably do it, no questions asked.

"Okay…" I said slowly, setting my food down and shifting to face him fully. "What’s up?"

His fingers drummed against the table, and I could practically hear his heartbeat speeding up. Finally, he sucked in a sharp breath and blurted out, "Would you be my date to Flash’s party?"

I blinked. "Your what now?"

"My, uh—my date. To Flash’s party. This weekend. As in, like, we go together. You and me." His words tumbled over each other like he was trying to outrun his own embarrassment.

My brain short-circuited. I had spent so many years pining after this boy, replaying every moment he smiled at me, convincing myself that was all it would ever be. And now he wanted to go to a party together? As a couple?

It was too good to be true.

And, as always, it was.

"Peter," I said carefully, already feeling my stomach twist in warning. "Why?"

His head snapped up, eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights. "What—why? I mean—why not?"

I sighed. "Peter."

He groaned, running a hand through his already-messy curls. "Okay, okay. Look, it’s—it’s stupid, okay? But MJ’s going."

There it was. The punch to the gut.

MJ.

I forced my face to stay neutral, even as my heart dropped into my stomach.

"You want to make MJ jealous," I said flatly.

"No!" he said quickly, then winced. "Well, maybe? I don’t know. I just—she and Brad are kinda, y’know, a thing now, and I—look, I just need her to see me as… something else. Like, maybe if she sees me with you, she’ll—I don’t know. Notice me?"

Ouch.

I let out a short, humorless laugh, glancing down at my hands. My nails were chipped, and I had bitten them too much again.

"Peter," I started, my voice quieter now. "You don’t have to prove anything to MJ."

"I know," he groaned, slumping forward against the table. "But—ugh, I’m such an idiot."

Yes, he was. But not for the reason he thought.

Because he was blind.

Blind to the way I looked at him. Blind to the way my heart ached every time he talked about MJ like she was the sun and stars, when I would’ve set the whole galaxy on fire just to make him smile.

I wasn’t MJ. I wasn’t small or effortlessly cool or mysterious. I was… just me. Too much in some ways, never enough in others.

And yet, as I stared at Peter, his face full of hope—hope that I could give him something—I caved.

Because I always would.

"Okay," I said finally.

He perked up. "Wait—really?"

I smiled, even though it hurt. "Yeah. Let’s go be disgustingly in love at Flash’s party."

Peter beamed. "You’re the best."

Right.

The best.

But never enough.

It turned out that playing Peter Parker’s fake girlfriend was harder than I thought.

First of all, I wasn’t exactly comfortable at parties. Flash’s house was massive, filled with way too many people, all of them effortlessly cool in a way that made my insecurities bubble up like a shaken soda.

Second, pretending to be Peter’s girlfriend was… dangerous.

Because Peter, being the absolute menace that he was, was really committing to the act.

His arm stayed wrapped around my waist. He whispered jokes in my ear that made me laugh so hard I had to lean into him. And every time we locked eyes, I swore my heart tried to escape my ribcage.

To everyone else, it must’ve looked so real.

To me, it was torture.

"Hey," Peter murmured, tugging me a little closer as we stood in the kitchen. "You doing okay?"

I nodded, even though the lump in my throat begged to differ. "Yeah, just… parties aren’t really my thing."

He smiled, eyes soft. "Yeah, same."

Liar. He wasn’t miserable. He had a goal.

I could feel it, the moment MJ and Brad walked into the room.

Peter tensed. His fingers twitched against my waist.

And then, before I could react, his hand slid up to cup my face—gently, carefully, like I was something fragile.

"Pete—"

He kissed me.

It wasn’t long. It wasn’t dramatic.

But it broke me.

Because it was soft and warm, and his lips pressed against mine like he meant it. And for those few, fleeting seconds, I let myself believe it was real.

The moment Peter pulled away, I knew I was in trouble.

Because I wasn’t breathing.

I couldn’t breathe.

His lips were gone, but the ghost of his touch lingered, the warmth of his palm still cupping my cheek like I was something precious. Like I was his.

But I wasn’t.

Because the moment his eyes flicked over to MJ—just a quick glance, barely a second—I felt the floor beneath me crack.

Of course.

The kiss wasn’t for me.

It was for her.

And yet, despite the hurricane of emotions storming inside me, I still smiled like it was nothing. Like my heart wasn’t currently bleeding out on Flash’s ridiculously expensive marble floors.

I forced myself to speak, but my voice came out thin. "Did it work?"

Peter turned back to me, blinking like he’d forgotten I was there. "What?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat and jerked my head toward where MJ and Brad were standing by the counter. "Did it work? Is she looking?"

Peter hesitated, then glanced over again.

MJ’s expression was unreadable, her lips pursed as she sipped from her red solo cup. Brad was saying something to her, but she wasn’t listening. She was watching us.

Peter let out a breath. "Yeah," he murmured, a strange sort of relief washing over his face. "I think so."

And that was my cue.

I stepped back, untangling myself from Peter’s grip. His arm, once snug around my waist, fell away like a rope being cut. The absence of his touch left a hollowness behind, and I hated myself for missing it.

"I need some air," I mumbled, already turning away before I could see his reaction.

I pushed through the crowd, weaving past drunk classmates and the pounding bass of some overplayed pop song. The front door was too far, so I ducked out onto the balcony instead.

The night air was cold against my overheated skin, but I welcomed it. It was better than the suffocating weight of pretending.

I leaned against the railing, gripping the cool metal with both hands as I tried to steady my breathing.

I was so stupid.

Of course Peter didn’t mean it. Of course it wasn’t real.

I was just a stand-in. A prop in his mission to win over MJ.

And the worst part?

I let him do it.

I let myself hope.

The sound of the door creaking open behind me made me tense.

Then—

"Hey."

Peter.

Of course.

I clenched my jaw, schooling my expression before turning to face him. "Hey."

He hesitated in the doorway, hands stuffed into the pockets of his hoodie. His hair was messier than usual, like he’d run his fingers through it one too many times.

"You okay?" he asked.

I forced a laugh. "Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be?"

Peter stepped closer, his brows knitting together. "I don’t know. You just… ran out of there pretty fast."

I shrugged, looking away. "Just needed some air."

A beat of silence. Then—

"Was it the kiss?"

My stomach dropped.

I looked at him sharply, my heart thudding in my ears. "What?"

He rubbed the back of his neck, shifting on his feet. "I mean, I—I didn’t think it would freak you out or anything, but if it did—"

"Freak me out?" I repeated, a bitter laugh bubbling up before I could stop it. "No, Peter, it didn’t freak me out. I just—" I exhaled sharply, running a hand over my face. "God, you really don’t get it, do you?"

Peter blinked. "Get what?"

My hands curled into fists at my sides. The words were clawing up my throat, demanding to be said, but if I let them out—if I told him—then everything would change.

And I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

But wasn’t I already suffering?

Wasn’t I already breaking my own heart every time I watched him look at MJ like she was the only girl in the world?

At least this way, it would be over.

I inhaled deeply, steeling myself.

"Peter," I said, my voice quieter now. "You better than anyone should know what it feels like to be in love with someone who doesn't feel the same."

His lips parted slightly, confusion flickering across his face. "What—"

"What you're going through with MJ, I'm going through with you!"

The air between us went still.

Peter’s face slackened, his brown eyes searching mine. "What?"

My heart was hammering. My fingers dug into the railing, my breath unsteady.

"I like you, Peter," I said, the confession cracking in my chest like thunder. "I have for years. And you—you kissed me, and for a second, I let myself believe that maybe—maybe it meant something. But it didn’t, did it?" I swallowed, my throat burning. "It was just for her."

Peter’s eyes widened. "No—"

"It’s fine," I cut in, forcing a tight smile even as my vision blurred. "Really. I knew what this was. I just—I guess I didn’t realize how much it would hurt." Panic rises in my chest. I just messed this up. What if he doesn't want to be friends anymore? " We just need to forget about this. I'm sorry for making this so fucking awkward. We-we can just pretend this didn't happen, alright? You go back to liking MJ and I'll be the supportive friend." I try to patch the situation.

Peter was staring at me, his mouth opening and closing like he wanted to say something—anything—but nothing came out.

I push myself away from the railing. "I should go."

I turned toward the door, but before I could take a single step-

"Wait."

His hand caught mine.

I froze.

"Don’t," he said, his voice strained. "Please, just—don’t go. We need to talk about this."

I hesitated, my pulse pounding beneath his fingertips. Slowly, I turned back to him.

Peter’s expression was wrecked. His eyes were wide and desperate, his grip on my hand tightening.

"I’m an idiot," he breathed, shaking his head. "God, I’m an idiot."

I frowned. "Peter—"

"I didn’t kiss you for MJ."

The words knocked the breath from my lungs. "What?"

Peter’s fingers curled around mine, like he was afraid I’d disappear if he let go. His eyes were so earnest, so real, and I was terrified.

"I kissed you because I wanted to," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Because I—God, I don’t even know when it happened, but somewhere along the way, it stopped being about MJ. It stopped being about anyone else." He exhaled shakily, squeezing my hand. "It’s just you."

I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breathe.

"You," Peter repeated, softer now. "It’s always been you."

My heart stuttered.

Then, before I could second-guess it—before I could run—I surged forward, crashing my lips into his.

And this time, it was real.

[cheesy09]

[CN] Kiro's Kiss Date

🌸 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date that hasn't been released on the EN server yet! 🌸

[Note: This date was translated with the help of Google Translate :>]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 1]

Kiro: Miss Chips, I finished work early today, that too with no mistakes~

With the sound of the car door opening and closing, a golden figure comes in along with the chill and sits down in the passenger seat.

MC: As expected of the highly efficient superstar...!

Kiro: Hehe, I've gotta put 200% of my energy for the upcoming vacation, after all.

Seeing Kiro shake his head proudly, I smile and unbuckle my seat belt, wanting to give him a big hug, but he quickly reaches out to stop me.

Kiro: Hold on, I've been shooting outdoors all day, I'm practically a popsicle.

Kiro: I have to thaw myself first to avoid giving you "frostbite" as well.

Watching him rub his hands together to warm them up and brush off the chill on his cotton coat, I immediately react and rush over to him with a smile.

MC: I'm not afraid. Let me help you thaw.

I hug him tightly and rub my cheek against his. Perhaps due to the warmth from my body taking effect, he grows so comfortable that he squints his eyes.

Kiro: Ding — Thawed successfully, and turned back into the soft and fluffy Kiro~

He lowers his head and pecks my lips, but the touch on my lips startles me for a moment, and I can't help but laugh.

MC: Wait, it seems that you're still one small step away from becoming the soft and fluffy Kiro...

As I speak, I take out the lip balm from the basket, turn on the roof light, and prepare to apply it on him—

Only to find that under the dim light, his mouth is red and swollen, along with signs of peeling at the corners of his lips.

Kiro: What's wrong?

MC: Your mouth seems swollen... Do you feel any discomfort anywhere?

Kiro: I'm fine... it's just that my mouth is a little dry because of the wind today.

As he speaks, he opens the upper baffle mirror, looked around, and then closes it indifferently.

Kiro: I took a look at it and there's no problem. I'll just drink more water later.

Kiro: Let’s go to the airport quickly. If we miss it, our vacation will be ruined.

MC: Wait... wait!!

I hold his cheek anxiously and observe him carefully under the light.

MC finds that not only are the corners of his lips peeling, but there's also a circle of redness around his lips — familiar symptoms of cheilitis.

She remembers what some of her colleagues—who also have cheilitis—suffered and gets serious.

MC: Kiro, I think your lips are chapped...

Kiro: Really? Maybe. After all, I've been in the wind all day, constantly reapplying makeup and lipstick.

Kiro: Then after we land, I'll go to the drugstore and buy some ointment. Now, gogogo!

Seeing him fasten his seat belt cheerfully, I sigh helplessly, step on the accelerator, and turn the steering wheel.

MC: Nonono!

MC: There's still time before takeoff, so let's go to the nearest hospital first.

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 2]

Both Kiro and MC visit a doctor who prescribes Kiro an ointment that he needs to apply for a week.

Seeing the amount of time it will take and his upcoming schedule, Kiro gets a little worried, which prompts MC to ask the doctor for a faster working medicine.

The doctor says it's unnecessary and prescribes him some vitamins, telling him to avoid spicy food and....

Doctor: Are the two of you boyfriend and girlfriend?

Kiro and MC: Yes.

Doctor: Then remember to avoid lip contact during these few days. Saliva and friction will cause irritation and slow down the healing process.

MC: Okay~

This time, I am the only one who agrees. I glance at Kiro and find that his back is stiff, and his eyes wide under the brim of his hat.

After several seconds, his shoulders slightly sink like a deflated ball.

Kiro: Okay...

-

After returning back to the car, Kiro and MC call up Savin to make the necessary adjustments to Kiro's schedule, and then get ready to go to the airport.

I fasten my seat belt and find Kiro, who is also driving with me, sitting in the driver's seat and swiping through his phone screen.

MC: Kiro, you can go now.

Kiro: Right right.

MC: Oh... what are you looking at?

He frowns slightly, looking quite serious.

Kiro: I'm looking up ways I can kiss you even though I can't kiss you.

MC: ....?

I am left stunned for a moment, and it takes my mind a few twists and turns before I realize his tongue twister. I can't help but look at him with a smile.

Apparently this guy is still bothered by this matter!

MC: It's just a week. Being on business trips, we've also gone a month or two without seeing each other.

MC: So just bear with it~

Kiro: But this is different...

Kiro: Now you are right in front of me, but I can't kiss you. This feeling is more torturous than being in a different place.

As he speaks, he turns his head and looks at me intently.

Kiro: Like right now, I really want to kiss you.

MC: No way, there can't be any close contact between our mouths~

Kiro: Then... I'll just use a tissue and kiss you.

Seeing him lean over to get some paper, I quickly pinch his cheeks with both hands and turn him around to face me.

MC: Mr. Kiro, no bad thoughts. Just listen to the doctor.

Kiro: I can't help it. My devious thoughts keep spiraling over and over.

Kiro: Maybe by the time I get on the plane, I'll have already written a book in my mind on the "Three Hundred and Sixty Strategies" on how to kiss Miss Chips.

MC: Oh, really?

MC: But in my case, I'm afraid none of your 360 strategies will work.

I hook his little finger and smile sweetly.

MC: Because from now on, I'm going to temporarily issue a "Kiro-Miss Chips" rule.

MC: You can't kiss me until you recover.

Kiro: Wait, did you forget another one of our rules?

Kiro: As long as you're together, you should never forget to kiss each other good morning and good night. You're being inconsistent. Rejected.

MC: Your rejection is invalid because... I will come and kiss you.

As I say this, I tilt my head and kiss him hard on the cheek.

MC: So all the kisses these days, as well as the good morning and good night kisses, will be "executed" by me alone.

MC: Just put your mind at ease~

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 3]

Kiro: [groggily] Good morning, Miss Chips.

The next day, as soon as I open my eyes, I meet those sparkling blue eyes beside my pillow.

MC: Huh? Mm...

Seeing me hum sleepily, he laughs and hugs me in his arms, rubbing his chin gently against the top of my head.

I take advantage of the situation and lazily drape one leg over him, moving my toes from time to time to gradually activate my mental faculties.

But even after a few minutes, I still find myself lying in his arms in a daze.

Kiro: Wow, your "start-up" time seems to be particularly slow today.

Kiro: Could it be... due to the lack of wake-up service from Cello and Apple Box?

As he speaks, he grabs my hand and nuzzles my palm with the tip of his nose. His hot breath brings with it a slight itch.

Watching me laugh helplessly, he leans his head closer and rubs my neck left and right.

MC: Hahaha, it tickles… stop it!

Kiro: You're being partial. If Cello did this, you'd just enjoy caressing its head.

MC: Then can I caress your head too?

Kiro lifts his head when he hears that, a hint of cunning in his eyes.

Kiro: Cello is a silly little cat who is easily satisfied with a pat on the head. I'm different. I want more than that.

He turns his face and touches his cheek with his fingertips.

Kiro: My kiss time has arrived.

MC: Pfft, turns out you were here waiting for me~

I kiss him with a smile, and he turns his head naturally, poking at the other cheek.

After continuing to do as he says, the man greedily points at the tip of his nose and looks at me with an unsatisfied expression.

MC: .....

MC: Kiro, are you teasing me on purpose?

Kiro: Hmm? What?

MC: Since I announced the new guidelines yesterday—

MC: When we were on the plane... when we were eating... when we were shopping at a convenience store... you'd always poke your cheek, hinting at me to kiss you!

MC: As a result, after waking up, you've gotten even worse!

Kiro: No way, I was clearly strictly following the rules... You were the one who said that if I wanted to kiss you, I'd have to tell you.

MC: Yes, I did say that, but I don’t think we've kissed that often before—

He nods in agreement, then sits up and looks at me with his chin in his hand.

Kiro: That's true, but suppose I tell you not to think about the appearance of a banana, what would be the first thing that comes to your mind?

At once, a vague yellow outline pops into my mind.

MC: A banana...

Kiro: Bingo, do you understand me now?

Kiro: Ever since I heard the doctor say that kissing isn't allowed, all I can think about is how much I want to kiss you...

Kiro: So, please help me.

He closes the distance between us slightly, with a familiar little devilish grin in his eyes.

Seeing how good this guy is at finding loopholes, I can't help wanting to tease him.

So I peck the tip of his nose, then hook his little finger and shake it with a wicked smile.

MC: Then, from now on, I will revise my "kiss guidelines".

MC: Before you recover, I will only kiss you three times a day. That is, in addition to the good morning kiss and the good night kiss....

MC: You only have one chance, and you've already used your "right" just now, so no more kissing today~

Kiro: [sad puppy dog face] .......

MC: No way. Who told you to be so good at exploiting loopholes? I can only forcefully fix it~

Kiro: You're being a tyrant. I solemnly protest.

He droops his brows in depression, and even his curly golden hair dims at this moment. Although I know he is probably pretending, I am still unable to bear it and quickly peck his cheek again.

MC: Okay, but this really won’t happen again!

-

After getting washed up, Kiro and MC go out for a stroll around the resort, holding hands all the while.

While MC is busy taking pictures, she comes across a handicraft store surrounded by flowers.

Out of the list of items being sold, there is one item in particular that catches her attention:

MC: Natural plant lipstick... Wow, that's perfect! Kiro, should we go in and make one for you?

Kiro: Me?

MC: Yeah, aren't you going for a shoot in a few days?

MC: If you are not fully recovered by then and cannot postpone the notice, it will come in handy!

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

[PART 4]

After entering and talking with the clerk, we learn that the plant materials here are also very friendly to cheilitis patients, and the production process is very simple, so we go to the workshop area and sit down.

MC: First add 2.5 grams of vegetable oil...

Following the instructions, I carefully pour the vegetable oil into the measuring cup.

But after putting the measuring cup flat, I find that I still poured about 0.5 grams too much, and I helplessly mutter to myself.

MC: A little more is fine, a more moisturizing texture will also be good for him...

At this moment, Kiro, who is sitting next to me, bursts out laughing.

I turn my head and find him looking at me with his chin in hand and his mouth wide open.

Since the beginning, this person has been staring at me with a silly smile on his face. I have no clue what he's thinking.

I laugh and pick up another bottle of vegetable oil, pouring it into the measuring cup.

MC: What are you smiling at? You're a patient right now, so don't move your mouth too much~

Kiro: I'm smiling... because I seem to have discovered an incredible secret of yours.

As he speaks, his fingertips gently touch my chest.

Kiro: You must have a small "radar" hidden here, and anything related to me will make a buzzing sound in your heart.

MC: What sort of weird "Kiro-style metaphor" is this?

Kiro: Well, like yesterday, after I took off my makeup in the lounge on set, my lips were actually a little red.

Kiro: Not only did I not take it seriously, but even the makeup artist thought it was because I removed my makeup too hastily.

Kiro: Only you noticed something was wrong.

Kiro: Then there is also this handicraft store. Even though the introduction of other handmade projects is more prominent, you immediately noticed the plant-based natural lipstick that was good for me.

Hearing him say this, I nod.

MC: Seems like that's the case...

MC: What about you? Do you have a similar "radar" in your heart?

Kiro: Of course, there are probably about a hundred of them, hiding.

MC: A hundred?!

I laugh out loud and put my head against his chest.

MC: Let me hear what these hundred sound like. Do they sound like a symphony?

Kiro: Listen carefully.

He hugs me tightly, and his lilting voice falls into my ears.

Kiro: When you smile, radar No. 1 goes beep.

Kiro: When you're angry, radar No. 5 goes bang bang bang.

MC: Hmm? Where are radars 2, 3, and 4?

Kiro: I have too many "Miss Chips Radars" to mention them all one by one in order. I can only tell you the ones that come first to mind.

Kiro: Like radar No. 76, when you are on a business trip and send me a message saying "I miss you so much", it will go beep....

Kiro: There's also radar No. 89... radar No. 31...

Hearing the clear and strong heartbeat coming from his chest, I can't help wanting to look up to get a closer look at him.

The white gauze curtain billows due to the wind, immersing him in the orange-red afterglow. His lips appear redder than yesterday, but in my eyes, they look like the color of ripe cherries.

I can't help but move closer and kiss him gently at the corner of his lips.

Kiro startles slightly, then slowly smiles.

Kiro: Didn't you say there would be no kissing today?

MC: Yes, but there's no way....

MC: The radar in my heart suddenly turned off~

-

In the next two days, we continue enjoying this slow time at the resort. The storage space of the camera keeps decreasing, while our smiles continue to increase.

Of course, he also deceives me with kiss after kiss.

It isn't until the afternoon of our last day of vacation, that I receive the finished product from the handicraft store on time.

I take out the lipstick and twist it gently. The deep red paste glows with a fine luster in the sunlight. I put it in front of my nose and take a whiff, smelling the faint fragrance of vegetable oil.

MC: Seems good!

But to be on the safe side, after taking a look at Kiro washing up in the bathroom, I decide to try it myself first.

I pick up the small mirror on the bedside table, and the moist touch spreads over my lips, bringing with it a delicate moisture without any roughness.

The color... isn't too dark or too light, just enough to brighten one's complexion.

Kiro: MC, I've put the things on the sink into the suitcase, so you don't have to check them again later.

MC: Okay. The lipsticks we made just got delivered, come and take a look~

Watching Kiro walk towards me, I pout slightly.

MC: Is it okay?

MC: Although your mouth has basically recovered today, it is better to take it with you to the photo shoot the day after tomorrow, just in case.

He sits next to me, smiles, and gently strokes my lips with his fingertips.

Kiro: The texture is quite moist, sticky and soft.

Kiro: The color is just right, very similar to the current color of your cheeks.

Kiro: I want to try it too.

The place he touches feels itchy, exuding a silent ambiguity that make my ears feel even hotter.

MC: Mm, try it then...

Kiro does not take the lipstick I hand to him, but slides his fingers down a few inches and holds my hand.

At this moment, a beam of sunlight falls right on his lips, making them appear full and soft, and irresistibly attractive.

I should be able to kiss him now... right?

Almost instantly, he tacitly lowers his eyes and kisses me, the sun shining behind him.

MC: [blushing] ....!

Kiro: MC, I think the same as you.

Kiro: I really want to... kiss you.

His voice falls beside my ears, and I can't help but look into his eyes, where an unknown emotion seems to surge.

Kiro: Although it was just a few days, it feels like it's been forever.

Kiro: It's terrible, not being able to do what you want.

He gazes at me and deepens the kiss. As our lips and teeth blend together, even my breath is slowly stained with his scent.

Kiro: So this is good.

Kiro: I can be very close to you... Very close.

His voice is incredibly soft, but bears an irresistible temptation. I close my eyes and surrender my entire body and soul to him without reservation.

Because I've been waiting forever for this long-lost kiss.

The world sways with every heartbeat, and everything leaps for joy and cheers.

In my mind, it's the voice of confession.

[END]

——*:･ﾟ✧——*:･ﾟ✧——

Masterlist: Here

[brinnanza]

sometimes i like to research the treatment protocols for my various Issues and Problems and it is always very gratifying to find psychiatrists recommend something I am already doing today's rabbit hole was alexithymia because it's very much a the top fell off of the sprinkles container and now my bowl is all sprinkles at the autism sundae bar and it turns out the thing they're doing for that is basically just thinking about how you feel about stuff and practicing untangling it so you can do it faster on the fly and lo and behold that is precisely what my weed fueled self therapy sessions have been about lately

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Just popping in to say i LOVE UR ART SO MUCH WAUGH!!!! Its soooooooo exoressive and u get across emotion and movement SO WELL!! I love ...littlr apple ...so much.....u imbue this donkey with Such Chaos

I love this little chaos creature, we should all forfeit our mortal possessions to her.

[iraprince]

Hiii, i love your stuff and kinda from a distance really look up at you for, in my perception, being able to express yourself without giving a fuck. Thats sick dude, Im so so afraid, of absolutely everything, its nice to think like i might grow into someone less apologetic of my existence. Nice to see people just being yknow

hey, thank you, this is really really nice. the secret that is probably not a secret is that i am also deeply afraid a lot of the time lmao -- but less than i used to be, and in ways that feel less stifling and self-suffocating, if that makes sense.

like, it used to be "i'm scared that if i express myself the way i want to, everyone will find me obnoxious, so let's just sand those edges down to be safe" -- now my fears are more like "now that i'm expressing myself in a way that feels natural and real, i'm afraid that it's all stupid/vapid/not worthwhile or meaningful" (<- specifically abt my art) or "i'm happy that i talk and act the way i want to now, but what if it makes me impossible to befriend," etc etc etc. which still feels bad and puts me in a funk a lot of the time but at least it's a fear that comes After/in reaction to doing stuff, rather than a fear that STOPS me from doing stuff, you know? like, it's evolved into a kind of fear that's less in my way.

anyway. i believe you'll experience something like this, because wanting to grow is the first step of growing. the fact that u hope or wish for something different means you're already on your way. to fewer fucks!! or at least distributing the fucks u give in a way that serves u better

[rowenabean]

.

[genderqueerdykes]

i wanted to follow on from some of the recent asks about disability and basically see what you and others think. basically when things are kinda 'medium' bad, like I'm tired or in more than baseline but not extreme pain, or whatever, i always feel like I'm putting it on or playing it up. (and to be fair very occasionally i am, because i need to convince people who don't really get it that i need help with 'simple' tasks or whatever) but like i just walked for about 15 minutes, to go grab a snack from the shop, and my joints are misbehaving and so i was walking fairly slowly and when i had to hurry over the road my knee didn't like it and my back is really stiff and whatever but if i had to i could just mask and not even show any of it. how do i teach myself that not masking or masking less than i could =/= putting it on.

(also kicking myself because i did not buy any painkillers on my adventure to the shop and i don't have any with me today and i really really wish i had some right now owwww)

generally speaking, the normal amount of pain to be in is none, or at the least, so little that its not bothering you. unless you recently had an injury, exercised very vigorously, have particularly bad posture or or did a lot of repetitive motions with that part of your body, it's not normal to be in a consistent amount of pain. it's different for everyone, some people have astronomically low or high pain tolerances. some peoples pain tolerances fluctuate wildly.

that definitely does not sound like a "normal" amount of pain to be in for sure. i can relate to that though, i don't walk for much longer than about ~15 minutes. severity is a scale but it doesn't mean that half of it is invalid. the lower end of the spectrum is still experiencing pain even if it's "less". i'm very psychotic n i don't think ppl who experience psychotic episodes a handful of time in their lives.

if ur in pain, treating the pain is the first concern. figuring out the cause comes second. preventative care is important. it's good to get things to help you, however i do wanna give the Obligatory Equinox Warning about painkillers, which is to really be careful with them. i'm stone cold serious with this because i took Naproxen (Aleve) for months & it ate a hole in my stomach. NSAID medications like Naproxen & Ibuprofen are dangerous. they can also interact with other medications if you take it regularly.

be careful with Acetaminophen. it's very hard on the liver and you want to make sure you are not consuming too much. check the label on the bottle, but the recommendation is generally no more than 4,000mg of Acetaminophen (Tylenol, Paracetamol) per 24 hour period. be very careful. play it safe and go as far under 4,000mg as you can handle. you do not want permanent liver damage especially if u take other meds. be careful about tylenol with codeine. codeine is an opioid and can make you very tired, dizzy, or even cause death due to respiratory distress if too much is taken. plus there's a risk of addiction. always practice harm reduction w/ opioids.

i would recommend seeing if you can speak to a doctor about it and get a prescription medication that's tailored to your specific kind of pain. arthritis pain, fibromyalgia pain, pain from injuries, pain from inflammation, pain from gastrointestinal issues, pain from nerve damage, and all different kinds of pain respond differently to different medications. it's better to have access to way more options if possible. OTC painkillers are very weak and don't help very much in the long run

there are more accessible remedies that might help like taking hot baths or shower to ease pain, using topical pain killers like salonpas, tiger balm, blue emu or biofreeze. i try to urge people to try topical painkillers first, including the patches, because those medications are way less harsh on the kidneys & liver and a lot of them are herbal or are mostly herbal. tiger balm is an herbal medication that hits like a truck, it's camphor & menthol and it it's a blessing. i genuinely recommend it

good luck, if you think of anything else, let me know, i'll try to help in whatever ways i can.

[muttsandmustelidae]

i regret to inform all of my fellow socially awkward kings that Practicing Talking Good actually helps. u have to make small talk at the grocery store sometimes to get better at speaking to people u don’t know very well. it sucks but if u keep trying it will eventually NOT suck and will in fact be fun and nice

[yourqueenb]

Feeling another random burst of self confidence (probably due to lack of sleep honestly) so have a heavily made-up eye reveal I guess? 😂

[ev-enhotterthanyou]

'yeah its np, I don't care!'

fifteen minutes of quietly sobbing into my pillow later: 'okay. so I decidedly do care'

[brittlebutch]

actually, having a kind of revelatory moment here of if HRT was something i have been considering for this long, but has remained inaccessible to me, then that means i Do actually have opinions about my appearance/presentation, so just because i can't take That Particular step doesn't mean that there aren't plenty of other avenues i could be pursuing (ie, clothing/accessories/etc.) that i just haven't let myself up until this point. like i don't have to shove it All aside just because there's one thing i can't get -- I'd probably still wind up a lot happier if I took those other steps I've spent all these years ignoring