#she told me she still remembers comics I made in class of when we were 10 YEARS OLD

[sandeewithtwoe]

I just had a “despite everything, it’s still you” moment

[iiiiiiits-m]

I am transmasc. 

This is something that I did not truly realize and accept until recently.

Hello, you can call me M, my pronouns are they/he.

I was an eccentric child growing up, in my earliest years I played with the boys and their trucks, enjoyed superheros and comic books, and stomped in the mud. I can remember two separate occasions where I asked my mom “are you sure I was born to be a girl? I feel like I’m probably a guy”, and both occasions she told me she knew I was a girl, even if I liked things that traditionally boys did. 

I moved during elementary school. Suddenly there were only two boys in my class, and nine other girls besides me. It was a Catholic private school and there were uniforms. The girls wore skirts and blouses or blouses and slacks, but my mom preferred the way the skirt looked on me so I didn’t get much of a choice. My hair was a cute bob that just barely didn’t touch my shoulders, and I always wore a flowery headband. I didn’t play with the boys because they didn’t like including girls in their tag games since girls ran slower.  Besides, if I ran around too much my tights would start to run. 

I started middle school in that same private school, except now the girls wore polos with a sweater or sweater vest and the option between a kilt or slacks. We were forced to wear our kilts on the days we went to church in order to look presentable for the lord. My hair was long and wavy, but I always tied it into an ugly low pony because I didn’t have much time in the morning. There was only one guy in our class this year, him and I were friends.

I ended middle school in a different school entirely. I wasn’t used to the freedom in clothing choice that public school brought. I would try to wear whatever looked “cool”, over-feminizing myself in order to seem like a normal girl. My hair was still long and still up. I stayed friends with a single kid from private school, even though we were in separate schools now. I had exactly two close guy friends when I ended middle school. 

Freshman year, and I’m still struggling to grasp basic fashion, though sometimes I managed to put together a cohesive outfit. No matter the outfit’s success, however, it always felt like it wasn’t made for my body. My hair, once halfway down my back, was once again chopped to a cute bob. I tried eyeliner for the first time. I started to realize that I might not completely be a girl, but the title ‘Demigirl’ feels right.

It’s only in sophomore year that I allow myself to consider the possibility that I’m not truly a girl in any sense. I only have one guy friend now, but I don’t know if they count since we’re dating and they’re starting to question their gender. My outfits started to finally look and feel good. I allow my masculinity to flow freely through the clothes I wear, though still wearing eyeliner in order to keep myself pretty. I chop my hair the shortest it’s ever been. I am nonbinary.

Junior year brings quite a few changes in only a few months. I meet a senior who I befriend, and him and I are scarily similar. He tells me about his journey with gender and guides me through my feelings about mine. My outfits are very rarely feminine anymore, and I only wear eyeliner on fancy occasions. I feel gender dysphoria for the first time. I feel gender euphoria for the first time. My hair is still short as I grow it out from a crappy mullet I had gotten the summer prior. I am out to all my teachers. Am I a trans man, or simply a masc-leaning enby? November 2024 comes to a close and I am only three months into my junior year, and I cannot wait to watch my gender evolve and grow. Getting ready in the bathroom each morning I think back to preschool me asking my mom if I should have been made a boy. Man my hindsight is 20/20.

[xxplastic-cubexx]

sorry if you've already mentioned but what (re?)ignited your love of comics/x-men/cherik? curious because there are so many different adaptations of them

i think im gonna speak for a few (or a lot of) people when i say that TL;DR the wolverine x deadpool movie that came out this summer is what pulled me back into comics and i COULD leave it there but i will go into excruciating and unnecessary detail instead because i love an origin story and i love oversharing.

under the cut tho because im nice sometimes (there's also wxdp doodles in here. if you want to see that)

ironically (and probably commonly), growing up i was more of an avengers kid. Kinda. Loosely <- binge watched the cartoons and movies and read copious amounts of comics and fics and i am hoarding fanart in my old dresser as we speak ok 'loosely' is a modest lie.

embarrassingly i remember getting into discus cause of captain america LMAO so yeah needless to say i was a Humble Fan- me joining my school's comic class/club didnt help either (shoutout to my teach from that she was the realest one out there for. A Multitude of reasons). she definitely is was inspires me to even draw still and make comics and i often think bout the tips i learned from her class tbh she was great

back to the movies t and comics tho, i got into em because my brother would offer to take me and that's how we'd hang out (i rarely saw movies in theaters and i even more rarely went anywhere as a teenager. still kinda like that today tbh ooops) and yk. it just snowballed after that.

my brother and i have always liked comics- he just more than me for a while (though he still very much loves comics and As We Know From My Posts we still talk about them whenever i see him To An Exhausting Degree)

durin then i was really into stony and i have a few surviving doodles i made but those are between me and god. and anyone who asks tbh LOL

'snap can you make this related to x-men again this is long' ok so fast forward to This Summer again I Still Don't Really See Movies but my brother offered to take me and this was the first time i'd actually seen an x-men movie in full

as a kid i only remember seeing the 'perfection' scene between erik and raven in first class while i was channel surfing. pretty sure i changed the channel after seeing mystique naked cause i was scared my parents would get mad at me if they caught me watching it LOL

BUT MOVING ON As A Kid i think it's also natural you'll sometimes watch 92 if it's on And I Did though evidently it didn't stick too hard (i do remember really liking beast and gambit though.... still do really): my knowledge of x-men was. INCREDIBLY sparse. like diabolically so so i didnt have too much expectations (aside from the fact i vaguely liked deadpool beforehand).

tbh i dont know why my bro never took me to see any of the x-men movies. it's not like he doesn't Also like x-men (90% sure nightcrawler's his favorite but my brother will be caught dead saying he has absolute favorites like that)- he owns a bitch load of deadpool comics/omnibus sets too (of which ive read over the years and reread this year) but Shrug moving on

Much Like Most Of The Internet i fell down the rabbit hole that way. i have some doodles i made a couple days after seeing WxDP that i now have an excuse to throw at all of you Look And Perceive

and so. As I Do. i got curious and told myself i'd binge watch all the x-men movies the week before i went back to school And Then I Did ft. My Brother Sometimes and then i said i'd binge watch all of '92 and And I Did That ft. My Brother Sometimes But Less So and now we're here. currently watching Evolution...

once i got to school i realized i lived near a comic shop and started getting into the comics that way (the first ones i got since going down this rabbit hole was Magneto Was Right!, The Resurrection of Magneto, and The Trial of Magneto. if you were curious !!!!! clearly i didnt care too much about context i just needed to see My Guy jelvejlkvj i have no regrets and Evidently ive read more since)

i'm pretty sure what dragged me into cherik specifically was the fact i saw a clip of The Famous ending to 92 where erik's aghast at the notion jean even has to question his love for charles. i think that was what officially had me refocus my lens on them: not a single poolverine thought after that LOL (all the cherik posting i saw on twitter definitely helped too but that was the nail in the coffin for any other interests i had: i was locked into cherik and x-men in general now)

that clip specifically, i was surprised at the fact they- frequently even- have the x-men franchise say erik loves charles and vice versa so bluntly. even if it's not meant to be romantic, i fear im just a fan of how casually the word's thrown around with them two and i got tender bout it all. Then Yk. i just live for the drama. the hilarity even. the sincerity .... they make me sick if i think of them too long so im gonna end it here

before i go tho ironically enough, the first x-men issue i owned was This one (story a this is that while stuck in some wacko dimension charles accidentally gets himself trapped in logan's mind while utilizing his astral projection. if you were curious). pretty sure i got it for free with another comic set i got years ago since our old comic shop loved to do that, but it's poetic aint it. maybe ill doodle something referencing it..

i should probably look into finishing this arc someday im Dummy curious to even know how it started and how it ends.....

[peppermint-rat]

I just realized it's officially been ten years since I properly left the mormon church. I don't remember the specific date because it was kind of a "I haven't believed any of this for a while why am I still going" but it did happen in 2013.

Escape-the-cult story time?

So, as I can with a few great things in my life, I can trace it back to a silly little comic series I started sort of by accident. It was about Left 4 Dead, specifically about me just barely escaping death by befriending the infected in cartoonish ways. It kind of really blew up unexpectedly. Suddenly I had an audience. I started doing livestreams and made close friends with many of the viewers.

Were those viewers also mormon? You can bet your ass they weren't. There was a good mix of queerness and transness in there. But everyone was still respectful of my mormon boundaries (kept swearing and really dirty talk to a minimum) so I found it really easy to be respectful back. Suddenly I was friends with a lot of people that the church told me would infect me with their wickedness if I tolerated them for too long. But you know what? Spending time with people different than you, seeing that they're just another human, seeing that they can become valuable people in your life even with the traits you're told to fear, it's very hard to keep thinking of them as wicked. At that point, you have to actively choose to sever these relationships that are making you happy and hammer that prejudice back into your head. And a lot of people do that! But I felt SO happy and SO loved, I just couldn't do it.

And all along in the background, my sister lived in Germany at the time and had a lot of time away from the church. This gave her space to read up on the ACTUAL history of the church and Joe Smith... and she was discussing her findings with me. I didn't really want to believe them, but it got harder and harder to explain things away.

Feeling relaxed around my non-member friends, I start joking like "Isn't it weird that I'm straight but I still get crushes on female characters?" And no one really rushes me to admit I'm queer, but they get really excited when I draw "joke art" of myself with those characters. And after a while, the joke wears off. I admit that these images of me with a woman give me happy fluttery feelings. But then my boyfriend at the time and my judgmental church friend and my other sister sees this, and they Don't Like It. But somehow, I don't end up feeling bad about myself - I feel disappointed that these people would judge me for loving this side of myself. I apologized/asked them not to tell anyone but inside went "You know what, I'm gonna start dating her even harder."

Started having/drawing lots more queer ships. Was pretty open about my fictional gay crushes. Flirted with my non-member female friends as much as I did my mormon friends, but they could actually flirt back which got me all flustered. And I loved it. I was worried about being queer in the church, but I wasn't worried about my soul. Letting myself be queer brought so much joy and love into my life, it couldn't have been evil.

Besides, it wasn't like I was gonna go out and have a queer relationship. It was all theoretical, right? Which is fine in the church. Hahaha.

Through a friend I made in my streams, I met someone who lived across the street from me. I knew of them, we were in the same graphics class in high school, and we were facebook friends. And I would look at photos of them and think "Man, that's the most beautiful person I've ever seen." But like. Totally not in a gay way, right? I won't be completely smitten with them when we start hanging out, right? Hahaha?

Nope. Instantly head over heels.

I came out as pansexual to everyone I knew. My mom thought it meant I was attracted to inanimate objects. My boyfriend (who looked at porn constantly and dismissed my insecurities about it) got upset because if I figured this out I must have felt attraction to another person, real or fictional (he got upset when he saw a totally sfw drawing of a pretty Homestuck troll in my tumblr likes). My dad said "I guess temple marriage isn't a priority for you anymore", and when I said "I never thought you would say that to me" he said "Neither did I, but here we are." Again, people taking issue with a thing I knew to be wonderful.

My parents sort of came around, at least to the point that they would not give me direct grief for being in a queer relationship. I broke up with my boyfriend (actually because I accepted that he was never going to join the church and we weren't even really friends, so what was the point). I was briefly in a relationship with a transmasc friend because I didn't feel like I could say no, but it's worth mentioning because since they were also Christian, I thought I could be with them and stay in the church, but when I realized that the church would never accept them into the priesthood because they're trans, it was a huge blow to my faith. Yet another "What am I even doing this for if I don't believe in it?"

We broke up because I was still in love with the person across the street. But here's where the shelf broke, so to speak, on my faith. I knew this person liked me too, but I was afraid to be with them, not only because it would be a queer relationship, but because they were a non-member and didn't uphold church standards, which I'd kind of just broken up with my boyfriend for. Remember that judgmental mormon friend I mentioned? I remember venting to her about this over Facebook IM, crying because I wanted to be with this person so badly, but how could it possibly work out? And she said, "It can't. :("

Oh. Ohhh. How fucking dare you.

It can't? Why? Because the church said so, and obviously nothing in life, not even my own happiness, is as important as obeying the church? I swore a blood oath to sacrifice all my happiness to the church or else I would burst into flames? This girl was big on the mormons-policing-mormons thing. Here I am in pain over wanting someone I felt I couldn't have, and she feels that the most important thing to do is make sure I don't entertain further temptation to disobey the church. That's the issue here - your friend is having gay feelings and they need to remember that's not okay.

Ha ha ha ha ha! Fuck you!

My sister and I decided to tell our mom together that we would not go to church anymore. My sister posted about it on Facebook, and our piece of shit brother (12 yrs my senior, would have been 31 at the time) said "Congratulations, I'm sure your parents are really proud of you." Because he's incapable of saying anything not horrendous.

I started dating the person across the street. And the relationship that "couldn't" happen has been going on for ten years now. Still completely head over heels.

Sssssuck on that!!

In short, yes, having lots of non-member friends can and will lead you away from the church, but not with their wickedness. They will show you how wrong you were for thinking that they were wicked, and by extension, how wrong the church is. And if you pull one thread, the whole thing comes apart.

[paperboy-pb]

"Willful Ignorance" [Life Story]

[Written in August, 2023]

A parent reminded me why I make PB the other night.

For those of you who don't know, I'm a very young creator. 20 in October. And I had one of my co-writers for a different comic ("Weirder Than Usual") over at my place for the weekend. And being the youngest of a hispanic family, my parents have no plans to let me move out anytime soon. When I do leave, it will likely be without their blessing.

I let one parent drive my co-writer back home for the night. I knew I wouldn't be much fun to have in the car that late (I fall asleep pretty early,) and that we wouldn't be free to discuss creative affairs with that parent there, anyway.

I don't like to be myself with this parent around. We are distant. And I keep that distance for a reason.

And despite my absence, this parent reminded me why. Because guess what my cowriter texted me not too long after!

Some hours later, I can't help but think to myself... it's so funny how she stresses my late speech so much. Because now that it's here, it's as if my words don't matter at all.

I will admit my family doesn't know everything that our Special Ed program put me & other children through. But I will ALSO say that that's their own fault. Because as I grew up, I used to tell them every awful thing that I found important. And it was their lack of response that made me stop.

The driver of that car is clueless. She's "forgotten" about the violence that surrounded me in there. Desks crashing to the ground after an adult's angriest shove. Sweaters stretched out and destroyed from middle school fights that nobody broke up.

She's "forgotten" about every time I told her that we weren't learning what we needed to know, insisting that every class must've been doing 3rd grade worksheets in 7th if we were.

She's "forgotten" her 11-year-old asking if he was on the spectrum; how she put on the confused performance of a lifetime as she told me no. But miraculously, she remembers sitting somewhere in the spring of 2005, being told so by professionals.

And she "doesn't remember" us yelling on the phone in 2022. How I spent 80 dollars on an Uber just so we wouldn't share state grounds. And how I screamed for the millionth time, in no uncertain terms, "I AM NOT MAD AT YOU FOR PUTTING ME IN A PROGRAM THAT PROMISED US HELP. You believed them! I know you believed them, they promised you I'd be okay! The problem is that THEY BROKE THAT PROMISE! And every time they did, you just looked the other way!"

Whether she is or isn't being truthful doesn't matter. It's bad on her either way.

Because I know she remembers my dentist reporting bruxism to her when I still had loose teeth. How they would ask her about my environment, or if she knew whether or not anything was stressing me out. And that she chose to question nothing as it continued nightly into my teens. Damaging my adult teeth and concerning all who would sleep in the same room as me. They could hear me all the time. Sometimes my sister would even wake me up.

I know she remembers marking her little one's height against the wall, and seeing the space under his eyes grow darker and darker across the 6th grade.

I know she remembers making leave Autism themed group chats, because to her, my name & that word should never be in the same sentence.

I know she remembers going through his journals and sketchbooks, finding concept art for our Matthew B. And how just one look was enough to make her enroll me to therapy when I was 13.

And she knows that I remember how she hates that boy. Matthew Boston, I mean. And at least one part of her hates everything that he is; disabled, creative, expressive, and headstrong.

I know because she hates those traits in me as well.

Since I spend a lot of time in disability spaces, I try not to assume somebody isn't trying to understand. Comprehension doesn't come easy to everyone. And I especially suspect that she's neurodivergent as well.

But I've tried everything with this one, and I'm truly at the end of my rope. I've tried visuals. I've tried keeping it short and sweet and simple. I've tried having complex and mature conversations where I don't skip a single detail.

I've even tried therapy with her in the room.

Nothing works. And unless this is the convenient work of an undiagnosed memory condition, there's no reason for that.

My Autistic voice matters so little to her that she insists on prying information out of my friends when I'm not in the room; asking the allistic all these questions I've answered myself one thousand times.

She doesn't want to understand. She doesn't want to question her own ableism. Or work past it. And that's why I don't show her "PAPERBOY" at all, and likely won't until years and years from now.

Because PAPERBOY is for the people who do understand. For people who do understand, and everyone who wants to.

[cookieandbread]

I rewatched X-men Apocalypse like today and here are my thoughts (keep in mind I barely remember the other movies and have not read a single X-men comics in my entire life. also I am incredibely sleep deprived and english is not my first language)

I don't remember much from first class but I remember I LOVED ALEX. AND THEY KILLED HIM. THEY KILLED MY BABY. (I barely remembered his name but I'm emotionally attached okay)

I also remember Erik and Charles being gay as fuck and it's so funny how hard the writers of this movie try to say "no no they're not gay" but fail miserably

Erik losing his family (AGAIN) killed me tho. he's not even my favorite character but PLEASE give him a happy ending. PLEASE. I could write an essay on why he needs a happy ending.

about Erik's family... I love and hate the "Peter is secretely Erik's son and he has to tell him" storyline. love because I have daddy issues and I love Peter and hate because there's one thing and one thing only I remember from Dark Phoenix and it's that PETER DOES NOT TELL ERIK HE IS HIS SON. IN FACT, PETER ONLY APPEARS IN LIKE THE 20 FIRST MINUTES OF THE MOVIE AND THEN FUCK OFF. I HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE FACT THAT I'LL NEVER SEE THAT DAD REVEAL ON SCREEN AND I DON'T THINK I'LL EVER BE ABLE TO HEAL FROM IT. I'll never recover. "I'm your... I'm here for my family too." will haunt me til the day I die. (Now don't get me wrong I 100% understand why he didn't tell him at that moment and it would have been fine by me IF HE HAD TOLD HIM IN DARK PHOENIX)

why does Pietro Maximoff gets so little respect? in the MCU they kill him in the first movie he appears in and the Fox changes his name and shits on the only storyline he has. why do they hate him?????

still on Erik: did he really need to be the villain again? if I remember correctly he kind of turned bad guy at the end of First Class because he killed the guy who murdered his mom because he couldn't make the coin move and then he was full on bad guy in that one X-men where they went in the past (Days of Future Past according to google) and it made sense because of his past and how he was forced to see violence as the only answer but like... AGAIN? with Apocalypse???? (according to google his name is En Sabah Nur) I get the guy had kind of manipulated his four accomplices into joining him but like... did it have to be Erik??? I get the whole repeating the cycle of violence, but isn't the point to break out of it? it feels kind of repetitive

still on En Sabah Nur/Apocalypse, I would have loved to see more how he manipulated Storm, Magneto, Angel and Psylocke to join him. while Erik had a reason to join back the X-men (he's super gay for Charles), Storm changing sides felt kind out of nowhere???? like we see her hesitate a little but we don't understand why she hesitates now when Apocalypse is fighting for the world he promised and not when he killed people (albeit to protect her but like...) I mean I guess there's the whole hero worship for Ravent but then why did she went with Apocalypse in the first place? Raven is a hero because she showed how mutants could cohabitate with humans, not by destroying them!!!! if Storm admires her, why going against everything she represents???? AND WHY DID THEY ALL WENT "yeah okay still rooting for that guy" WHEN APOCALYPSE WAS EXPLAINING TO CHARLES HOW BIG HIS CONTROL ISSUES WERE

whatever is going on with Hank and Raven... I just... don't like that ship. it made me uncomfortable when I watched First Class, it still makes me uncomfortable.

I remember liking her more in First Class and Days of Future Past tho??? she kind of annoyed me in Apocalypse. like wdym you wanna make child (I think they're children? not Peter but the rest) soldiers???? did the first X-men not teach you anything???? YOU AND HANK ARE LITERALY THE ONLY SURVIVORS OF THAT?

they never give us Storm's name??? or maybe I wasn't paying attention but I'm pretty sure THEY NEVER GIVE US HER ACTUAL NAME??? I guess I could find it if I searched on internet (update: I did, she's called Ororo Munroe, that's so cool) but I'm pretty sure they never say it in the movie???? like they just call her Storm???? DO THEY EVEN CALL HER STORM BECAUSE NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT I DON'T REMEMBER PEOPLE CALLING HER THAT EITHER???? (I have a short attention span tho)

from the little I remember of the 2000's trilogy, my favorite chatacter is Storm and I was so sad she had like so little dialogue. I hope it's better in Dark Phoenix??? I mean I'm not gonna rewatch it because I remember really not liking it the first time but PLEASE I BEG YOU let my girl TALK and have a PERSONALITY

Kurt is adorable. I just want to wrap him in bubble wrap and make sure nothing happens to him ever again.

I like Jean but I really don't care for her whole Phoenix thing. it probably has to do with how many times I've watched X-men 3 when I was younger (too many times) and how much I did not like Dark Phoenix but it bores me. like okay we get it she has that dangerous thing inside of her and it's very destructive and it's going to kill everyone she loves and she's going to have to die to prevent that. we get it. can we move on now? idk it frustrates me that Jean gets to have a movie centered around her not once but twice while both Peter and Ororo (and so many other but they're my favs) can't have basic character development.

I genuinly did not care for Scott. also how did he not get character development when his brother died??? he cried about it 2 seconds and then poof. out of sight out of mind. I wanna know how he gets rid of his grief so easily

I've checked when the other movies take place and... I don't understand... how are they aging... I'm so confused... wtf is that timeline... why is there a movie every 10 year? what is everyone's age ????

do I regret rewatching this movie? yes. yes I do. now I am going to obsess over how they could have handled so many things (notably Peter's daddy issues) so much better and lose all my sleep to fix-it fics.

[kinocomix]

devlog 17: things my therapist told me

the script for TSTW is still coming along. the first couple of scenes are the most sensitive ones because they effectively have to hook the reader when little has happened in the story, so I can confidently say that those 8 scenes have been polished enough that I don’t have to worry about them anymore. Now, the main plot begins.

here’s the soundtrack for the rest of this devlog: 

I don’t think there could ever be a fully professional way to talk about the things that heavily affected you as a kid. As an adult, I had to wrestle with the fact that there’s never really a good time to talk about feelings and be happy. There’s always someone in the world suffering more than you, someone dying and something terrible happening to the children of a country being genocided by zionism (free palestine).

Today I’m going to talk about the themes at play in “The criminal mastermind’s pocket diary”, the project I’m working on while writing the script for my other comic, which is coming along well. While a lot of what I’m going to talk about will pale in comparison to the suffering of others in the world, I find it valuable to remember that in order to fight the dragons that plague the world we must confront and quell the evil within each and every one of us.

With that in mind, one thing I haven’t mentioned about the central point of killouette is that in more than one way, her experience is very much my own. Growing up in Beyrouth it seemed like there was one of three options: you’re either born with money in which case your safety can be bought via being in safer areas and schools, or you’re in a middle/lower class area where you’re stuck with the other two choices. One is to pass the time on the street and acquire the culture thereof, the other is to be an indoor kid. My parents, who had good intentions, decided that the best course of action to not have me become a thug was to never let me leave the house except to go to school or family outings. Combine that with a poor financial situation and a tiny house, it meant that growing up I didn’t have the internet, and could rarely take up the space required to do activities. Doing something as simple as reading a book was complicated because most of our books were stored in the sofas which were designed to maximize what we could do in our tiny house. It doesn’t end there, you see my mother has always been a clean freak, so she valued tidiness over most other things. Now imagine all that for a second. An understimulated child, often told they’re “gifted” who could never explore the world or do many things inside either. you can see how that’s a recipe for someone with the personality of a blank sheet of printer paper.

It’s not all doom and gloom though. I still had some fun because I, in addition to being cursed with the gifted label, had an overactive imagination. So the underside of beds became forts, and broken appliances became experiments. The few friends I had at school became a window into the outside… I eventually became a normal human being but there’s something about that entire period in my life that made me feel very bitter towards my parents. Why were you throwing your anxieties onto me? Why couldn’t I just join the scouts? Why couldn’t I stay over at a friend’s house for longer than two hours? Looking back at all of that having gone to therapy I’m thankful for it. I don’t think I would have fallen madly in love with the craft of comics had it not been for me overcompensating for all those missed years. Part of me really wants to heal that inner kid in my head who still wishes for some adventure though. That’s killouette.

Killouette’s parents are much like mine. Not evil, just a little overprotective. Projecting just enough that it’ll seep into killouette’s behavior as an adult. But now, as a kid, I’m giving her something that I wished I had when I was a child: privacy and space. Killouette has her own room and her parents don’t feel the need to constantly police her as long as she’s in there. That might not seem like much, but I think that would be enough for a smart kid to do some pretty amazing things.

you may have also noticed that Killouette doesn’t have any noteworthy character flaws, and it should be obvious at this point that the goal of me making this is in part to empower her. With that being said I am fully aware that while my experience is relatively common, it’s far from universal. This is why the cast is so varied: each child represents to some extent a different way of growing up. I can’t do them all sadly, but I think the grounds will be covered pretty well with what we have. 

there’s also other kids to consider, so I have some things I want to explore with them as well. I don’t want to spoil too much but here’s a quick fire round: Talbas has anger issues because of neglect and video games. bata has well meaning parents but the constant taunting and threats of being sent to far away places cause anxiety in the way she acts. motsik has the most ass, dogshit parents. 0/10 not having a good time. abuse central, destination anywhere else. falefil is spoiled and his parents haven’t taught him certain things about respect and money. that tends to influence his behavior. zmik is the closest to killouette, except he is a version of her closer to me allowed to leave the house. he’s included in the cast partially as a way for me to extent empathy to a younger me, but also for anyone who might be going through something similar to what i did as a kid. lastly there’s claude. claude is for all intents and purposes, if we were to put her in a realistic framework, some weird mish mash of immigrant and orphan child genius. i imagine claude would experience some alienation from some people, but i’m not worried about the story getting sidetracked since her friends have her back and the adults in the story are losers anyways.

On a more general note, I’ve been noticing how my approach to writing has been evolving to suit whatever project I'm currently working on. It was weird at first cause I thought a writing technique is something that you’re just stuck with. With prior comics for example the main concern was always “how do I portray what’s happening in the most raw way possible” whereas with TSTW it’s more “let’s try to be more efficient with the framing of the ideas, as long as it feels right”. With Killouette, it’s not about showing things in the most realistic way possible because if that was the case, for starters this amount of genius kids would not be two buildings apart in some suburb in beyrouth and killouette would not be able to hide the amount of things she does. but that’s not the point. a bunch of what happens in the story could happen with real kids in real life, and the point of the book is to capture a young sense of ambition and wonder. the type of mischief that leaves you laughing and being impressed  instead of wondering what’s happening in the world. I’m not here to tell you about kids committing actual awful actions, I'm here to show you kids having a good time despite it all. that nothing can stop life and the desire for it. 

If the kids of Palestine can still find it in them to laugh and have fun, the least I can do is have some imaginary abused kids triumph over their circumstances.

next week, we’ll be improvising some doodads and seeing how we can recycle previous unused work.

devlog updates on Tuesdays.

[allalliecreate]

In middle school (I think seventh grade?) I learned there was potential for the books they made us read to be good because we were simultaneously reading The Giver in English and a sci-fi book that I don't remember in science.

But when I got to high school I was quickly disappointed. I hated 9th reading Animal Farm, The Odyssey and Romeo and Juliet. I was only vaguely bored reading the actual works (no strong feeling either way) but hated writing the papers they made us write. They always had very specific topics and it seemed like if I felt I did a good job, nope you get a D. I hate this paper? Much better, B+. I was so anxious I was constantly getting stomach aches and my mom had to institute a "one absence per month" rule. When it came time to pick classes for the next year, I tried to pick regular English rather than honors, but the counselor kept trying to convince me to continue in honors English, I was so smart, she knew I could do it. I was to anxious to say no I don't want to do more I only did that year because I was already doing the honors math and I thought I could just get the advanced degree (there was three degrees we could get: the standard, the advanced with 1 year honors English and geometry, and advanced with honors that had 3 years honors English and up to precalculus I think).

10th grade was better, but I was absolutely bored reading The Scarlet Letter and Julius Caesar. We might have also done papers or read more things, but I really can't remember them. All I remember is I did better in 10th grade than 9th. I was once again convinced that I should do honors English, was once again too anxious to do the opposite.

Then summer reading came along. Every year before an honors English class, we had to pick a book from a list and read it over the summer, write a paper, and take a test on it. I picked And Then There Were None. I loved it. 10 years later, I still have it in my bookshelf. Then the school years starts, and I think I had the best English teacher that year that I had ever had. We did a poetry unit that I can't really remember other than I used canvas for the unit project. Then we did The Great Gatsby. It was so fun (a mysterious neighbor whose always throwing wild parties!) , and again we had a project to do rather than a boring pretentious paper to write. We had a big list of item we could pick from and we had to choose 2 to do. I don't remember any of them except two. One was to draw a scene. An artist in our class did a comic of when Nick met Gatsby that had everyone thirsting over Gatsby. The other option I remember was one I picked: you had to rewrite a scene from a different character's perspective. I did Daisy and when I presented it I even read it like I thought Daisy would talk. Everyone thought it was so good and I kept that writing for years. I think it got thrown away with my other high school writing and at the time I saved everything at school so I have forever lost it.

And then we were told we were going to To Kill a Mockingbird. I was so positive it would be back to the stuffy boring books about people doing very little and flowery language and stuffing your face with symbolism. I was completely surprised that it was about a little girl. That had adventures with her brother, who was also under 10! We did have to write a paper for it, but it was a short one. We had to argue whether or not the two sub-stories (Atticus's trial and Scout's adventures learning about Boo Radley) could be separated and still be complete stories. I think I argued that while they may not be able to be two independent stories, they could be separated into two companion novels and still be as satisfying. I don't know if I still believe that, I haven't read it since then, but it is one book I wish I had my own copy of.

12th grade wasn't as good as eleventh, but I did like reading Beowulf and The Canterbury Tales, and just a little of King Arthur. Macbeth was also fun. What I really enjoyed the best was that I was no longer in honors English. That year, instead of doing a long paper on a single vague word (like "honesty" or "bravery" or "love") that the honors students had to spend the entire year researching, I got to write a paper on what makes a hero using a movie hero. I know I wrote about Mulan and I think the main point of my argument was that she wasn't a princess with a whole country to consider, she wasn't some chosen one who had to make a choice to make or break the world, she wasn't even being specifically hunted by some evil. She was just a daughter that loved her father.

got thoughtful about opinions on bad books so here’s an inverse: what’s a book you had to read for school that you actually enjoyed/have grown to like? mine is Lord of the Flies

[theorist-influencer-untitled]

9.8.24 Sunday

10:26 am

Still, have windblow...

Thank God...

The wifi is here... Uncle DD is acting strangely though the money is sent to him by my adoptive parent's... 2 babies here,me and Uncle DD....

But of course, I need to work... Though, Uncle DD sometimes doing a side lines of selling pies and handling some pizza's delivery...

Thanks angels for the wifi...

I pity Crysette coz she needs a laptop for her college lectures, I can't lend her my laptop coz it is something personal for me.... Uncle DD is spoiled on my adoptive parent's... The tablet of Crystte is not compatible for her class on-line apps...

I have fear if she damage my laptop Uncle DD is not really helping me here... I'm just pooping in their bathroom coz our toilet bowl is still clogged.

If only if I have extra money, I pity Crysette....In spite of a child is still a child... Though, not my responsibility.... I pity her but I already told Uncle DD that Crystte needs a laptop for her class...

4:54 pm

Still,have windblow...

I feel super stress....Thinking of money and I need to start a job... I feel so frustrated but I hope it will be the start again...

For the people who are damaging me for 17 years, learn to let go and move on... For me moving on,it doesn't mean losing my dreams to achieve the vanity that I want or to lose the person that I wanna see again and that is my cousin-white on my Aunt Ten2x...

Thanks to Sir Joe,Jay and Ms Sasa for always assisting me and some good angels behind.... Just waiting for the start date again...

I'm so fucking excited to buy Starbucks everyday coming from my salary but doubting the "everyday".... I'm self-pitying for so long coz I wanna collect Starbucks Tumbler...

I need to pay Ely a cash, if I can but if not a sing as a buddy... In a lil while...

But I still wanna see my cousin-white on my Aunt Ten2x ... It is a thing that will haunt me forever if there was really an unfair "Entangle Thing"...

5:23 pm

Still,have windblow...

My inside is really crying... I was really thinking and realizing some things in life and did a back-tracking including about my cousin-white...

Trying to remember everything in details... Did I miss something??? Everything were slow motion in my head... 17 years too much, can't wait for a new beginning at least let me work now...

But my cousin-white on my Aunt Ten2x it will haunt me forever... Is there a missing piece on my puzzle???

5:55 pm

For my cousin-white on my Aunt Ten2x... We are poorish now....

Care for ramen or noodles???

7:51 pm

Still,have windblow...

Tomorrow will do my medical again in Allians near at Jollibee Molino.... Hoping for a good start, I need to work and I need money...

This is something serious... I need to do things step by step... One at a time but I have a plan map to get my cousin-white on my Aunt Ten2x...

I'm so stress.... Thanks, Ely for the back-up... I'm so stress...

8:24 pm

Still, have windblow...

Here in Ely's house... I need a back-up... I'm really out of blood,angels... I did try to convince Ms Sasa not to repeat my medical but she said it is company's order and salary deductions... Ohkay!

I need to suck blood and more good and stable blood.. I'm really out of blood...

11:19 pm

Still,have windblow...

In a lil while will take a rest coz I need to be early tomorrow...

It is suddenly pop-up in my head just like a comic strip... I remember the word "dowry", it is about bride's money for their future or her share to start a life... It is supposed to be that way.... Bitterish! I feel bad... 17 years they took from me... WHEW!!!

11:43 pm

Still,have windblow...

I feel bitterish... I lost the moment but I love the rhythm of this song, most specially when Sabrina made a duet with Harry here.. I lost my love story...

I'll get my cousin -white on my Aunt Ten2x... I will make my own love story... I feel bitterish!

11:52 pm

I really feel bitter....I have windblow... Let's just all move on...

I need to work and get a life... But I still wanna get a nose perfection in time... This is not my ideal aging life, alone and I can't get a bf that I want....I can't feel that I'm pretty anymore... I hate being compared, my greatest fear being compared coz they made me nothing for 17 years...

I really wanna get my cousin-white coz they are all insensitive!

About Mitch? Did she give me these flatness and those simple battery?

I'm fine with it if they like Mitch but at least Mitch I have to know everything...

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Midnight Swan

Fandom: DC Comics, Batfam

Summary: Jason doesn't die in the explosion in this AU, BUT he does team up with Kate Kane in this.

Chapters: 3/?

Characters: Jason Todd, Kate Kane, Bruce Wayne

Additional Tags: Jason Todd Survives The Explosion, POV Jason Todd, Angst, Secrets

Chapter Three: Rubble

After spending most of the weekend with Kate, I was ready to go home and lie down, but as soon as I got home, Bruce wanted to go out to brunch. “Can we make it dinner? I’m a little tired,” I mumbled. He solemnly nodded as I went upstairs to shower and tried to go to sleep afterward. Alfred must have changed out my pillows because they seemed softer and fuller than the last time I slept in my bed. It didn’t take me long to nod off. I slept peacefully at first, dreaming of family, but I was no stranger to what happened next. That laugh. It pierced through even the happiest of dreams, leaving me in darkness. I’d end up back underneath the rubble, buried almost entirely. I could feel the rocks shifting as I stared at the last sliver of sunlight peeking through. My ears rang from the blast as I lay there, struggling to stay awake. “Jason,” the voice came through, muffled at first, and still it called. “Jason, can you hear me?” I couldn’t yell. I couldn’t move. All I could do was lie there as I was buried alive. I couldn’t even cry. I lay there, completely still in the dark, and closed my eyes. Usually, by this time, Bruce would come upstairs and wake me up, but he didn’t, and I found myself struggling to catch my breath. The rubble shifted again, and instead of being freed by Bruce, it was my dad. I closed my eyes as I could feel him hit me over and over and over again until Alfred woke me up. “Master Jas—.” I hugged him, and he hugged me back. “Are you alright?” I let go and nodded. “Would you like to come downstairs for dinner?” “I’ll be right down… And Alfred, I’m okay,” I smiled. He flashed me a smile and went on his way. I just hoped he wouldn’t tell Bruce that my nightmares were worse. I cleaned up a little and came downstairs for dinner. Alfred made pot pies, and Bruce smiled and dug right in. “Jason, how was your weekend?” I finished chewing, and at that time, I remembered my lie.

“We were up all weekend, but we went to the beach for a little bit yesterday,” I replied. I tried to keep things as simple as possible, so I wouldn’t forget my lies. I told Bruce I was at a friend's house for the weekend. Bruce seemed like he bought it, but something about him seemed sad. “Jason,” Bruce looked me in the eyes, “To be honest, I was worried about how you were adjusting, but I want to tell you that I’m proud of you.” I felt awful. "How was your weekend?" I asked. Talking about myself hurt too much. All I could do to keep from lying to him. "I got a letter from your English teacher," Bruce whispered. I took a sip of water and glanced up at him. "Jason, are you alright?" "What did she say?" I asked. I was cold when I said it, and I hoped it would deter him from asking. English was one of my best subjects. Bruce pinched the bridge of his nose. "Jason, it's not about what she said. It's about how you feel," Bruce replied. I shrugged. "Can we talk about something else if you're not gonna punish me?" I asked. Bruce chewed his lip. "She said your last few short stories were... Disturbing," Bruce replied. Disturbing. The word made me want to be cruel. "Ouch! I guess twenty-two and a half hours of therapy... Just isn't enough," I sniped. I stood up and forced a smile. "I'll be upstairs if anyone needs me... So, I assume I won't be bothered," I added. Bruce didn't stop me. I hated being cruel to him, but it was all I could do to keep from crying sometimes. My English teacher wasn't exaggerating, though. All my short stories were gory and gruesome. I wrote about things I never wanted Bruce to see, but I had to write them. I had to write what I knew. I knew pain.

I lay in bed, typing another story for class. I received a video call from an unknown person. I put in my headphones and answered. "Hello?" I asked. Kate turned her camera on.

"I'm headed over there—." "No, don't come here. It's a bad time," I replied. "Even better. Act like you didn't expect me," Kate replied before hanging up. "I didn't expect you," I mumbled to myself. I groaned as I mentally prepared to put on an Oscar-winning performance. Bruce came upstairs and stood in my open doorway. "I pushed you," Bruce whispered. I sat up and nodded. "I don't mean to push you... Jason, sometimes I have no idea if you're okay—." "I'm not okay. Did you see the stuff I wrote?" I asked. Bruce nodded. I lay back and covered my face with my pillows. "I don't care that it's gruesome... I care that you felt like you had to hide it from me. It makes me worry that you're hiding other things from me," Bruce explained. I sat up and nodded. "Is there anything you're hiding from me that I should be worried about?" I wanted to confess to everything and get it off my chest, but all I could manage to divulge was one thing. "I don't think therapy is helping right now," I admitted. Bruce nodded. "Do you wanna stop for a while?" Bruce suggested. "Yeah... Can I stop?" I asked. I couldn't cry anymore, but I knew Bruce could tell it was hard for me to ask. Bruce embraced me. "Of course, you can. I only ask that you speak to me if you start feeling like taking risks or hurting yourself... Or others." "I will. I promise," I lied. I lied through my teeth, and it hurt me to do it. Bruce didn't understand what I had to do. Kate did. Kate understood that I couldn't walk away from the life or the risks that came with it. I had nothing else worth losing.

[kiaranovastar]

A short biography

I was born to a Lithuanian mother and an Irish father. I was born in Lithuania but moved to Ireland as a baby. My early childhood was relatively happy although I was sexually abuses.

I moved from the south of Dublin to the north at a young age. First we lived in a really bad area and our car was stolen. Then we moved to the countryside.

My living conditions were horrible. We lived in a mobile home for a few years before building a house. My father abused me.

As well as that I was bullied by adults a few times. When I was 4 I was chasing chickens around in a park trying to pet them. I caught one and put it into a fence but its wing got stuck so I tried to take it out. An angry woman came over and put her face right up to mine and started speaking in a menacing tone about how she's seen me harassing the chickens, and ended with 'If I see you go near another animal...'. Yes, to a 4 year old.

When I was around 5 me and my brother were going to music lessons we were playing in the neighborhood while waiting for our mother to lock the car. An old woman came up to us and gave out saying she's tired of kids like us causing trouble in the neighborhood and told us to get out.

When I was 6 years old I was playing on my own lawn when a woman drove in (she had some business with my mother). She brought her face up to mine and told me that I have no right to be playing on people's lawns and told me to get off the lawn.

When I was 7 or 8 I was hit by my neighbor friend and I hit her back. Her mother told me to apologize to her and I just walked away.

Then came my school. I moved school in senior infants. It seemed like a good school but you will see later that it was not quite as it seemed. One day when I was 6 a boy was jumping on the teacher's (Mary's) back and another boy hit him in front of me. The teacher turned around and decided to blame me. She asked 'Did you hit him?' over and over again and each time I said no, until I had no choice but to say yes. She put me on timeout and I called the boy that hit him stupid. Then when the president Mary McAleese came to visit, the teachers told her. I was there to greet her along with the boy that was hit. Mary McAleese refused to shake my hand. Later she spread a rumor that I tortured a black boy and called a mentally challenged looking boy stupid.

I was unaware of all this. My childhood still stayed relatively happy until later. When I was 8 I was playing with my toy and a bully said 'Stop doing that, you're acting like a baby' and I said 'Actually, you're acting like a baby'. She told the teacher and she made me apologize to the bully. I could have told her that she said it first but I witnessed a similar situation before and she shouted at the boy that talked back even more and I wanted her to stop shouting at me (I have autism) so I stayed quiet.

I had a nice friend group but that year they all (4 of them) transferred to different schools.

Sometime around the age of 11 a boy in my school touched my breasts.

I think word of Mary McAleese's rumors reached my father because I started getting moody and my eyes started getting hollow, and I think this was around the time my jaw dislocated. I think he was beating me and raping me more badly but I didn't remember it. I remember him pinning me to the floor and threatening me. The kthala told me that he was abusing me with Satanists.

This prompted me to write a series of comics full of rude jokes inspired by South Park when I was 11 and word eventually got to my teachers. The teacher shouted at me in front of the whole class. Obviously this also reached Mary McAleese. I think they were spreading rumors that I drew child porn but at the time I didn't even know what sex was.

When I was 12 I had just joined an internet forum and received a barrage of abuse by a flamer known as Sparx.

When I got into secondary school I had 2 passions; Art and Japan. I was drawing all the time and tried to learn Japanese from the age of 12 but didn't know how to do it properly so I didn't learn it properly until later at around 17.

[[[At home my father was controlling me. He set parental controls at half an hour of computer time a day, and as I lived in the countryside I had nothing else to do. Talking to friends, anime, other entertainment, art (which I was really passionate about), I only had half an hour to do it each day. For the rest of the day I did things such as play video games, doodle and listen to Linkin Park. When I got a laptop in my own room my father would constantly steal it from me.]]]

I was extremely stressed as a teen because [[[since my pre teens my father would constantly make me work for him which consisted of farm and factory work. When I got older I was trying really hard to do art and Japanese (my dream was to be an artist in Japan) while doing well at school while he forced me to work for him for free. I was determined to get out of the house as soon as possible. I worked non stop every day with little leisure time. My father would force me to go to bed at 10 and turn the upstairs electricity off. Little did I know that he was drugging me with ketamine and raping me in my sleep. I got brain damage and started developing spots. I think he might have injected testosterone into me as well.]]]

In school I was always nice and quiet. I used to be boisterous amongst my friends when I was younger but developed crippling shyness. My friend group was ok but they made a lot of distasteful jokes. I had some good friends there though.

I think Mary McAleese was spreading rumors about me because my social media accounts never got many follows.

When I graduated from secondary school I thought I was free. I went to UCC but got put in with the party animals. My room was right next to the living room, the walls were paper thin and they partied every day. I couldn't concentrate on anything so I spent most of my time on Facebook instead of drawing and studying Japanese. I developed tinnitus from trying to listen to music over the chatter. That summer I became extremely unwell.

My second year of university was even worse. I was placed with abusers. They smoked cigarettes and drugs and the apartment smelled of cigarettes. I eventually got them to stop but they verbally, psychologically and emotionally attacked me and emotionally raped me. I managed to get out halfway through the year but my new house had a very gloomy dark green room and a table too small to put my drawing tablet on. I was extremely depressed while suffering from PTSD and the only thing keeping me alive was my year abroad in Japan. That summer while on holidays in Lithuania I volunteered to teach English at a summer camp which was a good experience.

I went on a year abroad to Kyoto and joined a Yosakoi dance team. My host family's location was inconvenient so I moved to an apartment close to university, but the insulation was bad and it was right next to a busy road so it was very bad for my mental health. Just before I started Yosakoi I was in a shop paying and an old man came up behind me and muttered down my back, 'Hurry up, you scum, scum of the Earth', over and over.

By the time I joined the Yosakoi team I was severely traumatized, so while I really enjoyed it, my trauma was catching up to me. I tried to befriend a guy who I thought I liked (I didn't really have feelings for him, I just thought I did because I didn't remember his face and I wanted to be around someone who would protect me). I accidentally confessed that I had feelings for him (not with the intention of dating him, just because I thought he should know) and he started spreading a rumor that I loved dicks. (More on this man if you scroll down)

I usually had crippling shyness so I tried to be outgoing, but it didn't go very well and many found me annoying.

I fell in love for the first time. I met a man called Yohei and we didn't talk much but it was nearly love at first sight. However he had a girlfriend so anything beyond friendship was impossible...

I was so traumatized by now that I had severe brain fog and body dysmorphia. I bought a brown coat but felt uncomfortable in it so I went around looking for a new one. I was afraid of standing out, I didn't want one that was tacky, I didn't want to pay too much for it and I was terrified of receiving abuse again. I was afraid to ask for help because I didn't want to make a bad impression. I didn't want to be seen in the coat so I put off hanging out with my friends in college. Before I knew what I was doing I ended up spending 2 months looking for one and it ended up on the news. I don't know how it happened, it probably had something to do with Mary McAleese (I heard that she told everyone that I was trying to ruin the world), but it ended up on international news and everybody in the world knew about it. One day people were taking pictures of me and harassing me. Soon, nearly every person that passed me in the street was calling me names. This never ended. When I went back to college after the break the whole college was laughing and making fun of me. I had to hide in my room for the whole year. I don't know why it took me so long to find a coat but I think someone was mind controlling me.

I stayed alive because I was too brain damaged to look at the situation objectively. I had tried so hard to get here and I was just holding onto the hopeless dream of being an artist/ mangaka in Japan. I had never had the chance to live and had come this close to finally living it. Also at the time I didn't know that it had spread all around the world and was hoping that I could live once I got out of Japan. Also later, after a failed suicide attempt, my father told me that if I died it would ruin my mother's life. I was desperately hoping that the abuse would die down. Being the hero didn't work out. I think the AI's running the simulation also stopped me from being able to kill myself.

My dance team was also bullying me. They taught me a word that they said meant 'I'll cut you down' but much later I found out that it meant to rape. This bullying plateau'd in the summer trip when everyone was talking loudly about me (saying mean things) including right in front of me. They hadn't put me into a room, and I was told to sleep in a men's room. They brought me around all the men's rooms until they found one. I think I got raped that night. The next day a member (Jukujo) chased me down the hallway stark naked and another member (Luna) filmed it.

Also, at one of the dance festivals I think I was drugged and raped. Two members (Shigenyan and Jukujo) came into my hotel room at night and gave me something strange to drink. I went to bed after that. I think something happened after that but I'm not sure.

I was afraid of talking to Yohei in public because I didn't want to put him in danger. However I really wanted to talk to him so when I thought he wanted to meet me in private on college campus at night I waited all the time.

Before I went back to Ireland I visited South Korea and Vietnam. I wanted to try going out and was hoping that I wouldn't be harassed. Unfortunately I was harassed just as much but I managed to go out and have a good time.

Back in Ireland I was still getting harassed. Again I couldn't go out and ended up having to drop out of college (I thought it would be temporarily). As well as that I heard the builders outside talk about me non stop.

At home I still couldn't go out so I tried to focus on art. But the abuse was making it hard for me to draw and I couldn't draw well.

I tried to commit suicide many times but couldn't. I had a severe fear of death.

Since going to UCC was too difficult I tried studying animation at IADT instead but the students in my course were really bad bullies (for example I heard one girl say that my (who had been nothing but raped all my life) life would be a porno).

At the end of 2019 I started getting harassed by voices threatening me 24/7. This started just after a failed suicide attempt. I was going to try to make another suicide attempt the following day but they started making threats on my family and friends so I couldn't die anymore. Near the end of this horrific period I decided to try to ignore them, forgive the Japanese and work towards getting back to Japan and bear the voices. It was my dream after all. After I started ignoring the voices they got more aggressive and started threatening to torture me for the rest of eternity.

Then, one morning the threatening voices stopped and nice voices started talking to me. They claimed to be aliens from the future called kthala and they said that this event (the event in Japan) caused something worse than the holocaust and Yohei and I saved the world. But we couldn't save it completely so the kthala went back in time to stop it from happening. They gave me telepathic communication with someone claiming to be Yohei. They said they would protect me and that I had to pack up for the airport and wait for Yohei to come and pick me up, over and over. This lasted for a year and a half and he never came. Then someone injected me with methamphetamine and I ended up in the hospital...

The hospital was hell. I was recovering from the methamphetamine injection and couldn't sit still or concentrate for months. I was being raped (but my memories of it were repressed) and people were calling me all sorts of names. The kthala were lifting me up by telling me all about Heaven and my role as a future Goddess because I wanted to die, but sometimes they would say horrible scary things as well. You can scroll to read more about my time in the hospital.

Now I am still in the hospital and conditions have improved considerably, but the voices are still there.

[billconrad]

Lifetime Goals

    I attended May Scott Marcy Elementary school in San Diego, California. This school was renamed Mission Bay Montessori Academy, but to this day, I do not know who May Scott Marcy was. In the fifth grade, the best teacher was Mrs. Hanson, and she was outstanding, but there was one downside that year. My school took part in an “integration” program; this was the only year for this experiment. One day a week, they bussed our entire class to Chollas-Mead Elementary school (we pronounced it choy-us) way across town. In return, several kids from Chollas Elementary attended Marcy. The kids sent to Marcy kept to themselves because Marcy had little to offer.

    Chollas Elementary was a much larger school with a vastly different student population. It also had elective classes, and I took science, music, and art. I often felt intimidated by these surroundings, but eventually, I made some friends and got used to the experience. I also still have some of the art I created during that time.

    I made friends with one kid who had a prided-filled lifetime goal. He wanted to become a gang member, make a million dollars and buy a low-rider. The student spoke of the certainty of purchasing a low-rider with great pride. Often, he would pop his hand up and down while making the hydraulic “veeet” sound. We shared physical education, and both hated to run, so we walked around the field and talked about stuff.

    When I met him, he was well on his way to achieving this goal. His brothers (real street gang members) told him he needed three things to be accepted into their gang. Know how to count up to one million, be able to add/subtract (simple numbers), and form his own “starter gang.” I found it comical that the reason for counting up to a million was so that he could appreciate how much money he would be making.

    To achieve the last part of his qualification, my friend was the founding member of the “Logan Hills Gang,” the most brutal gang in Chollas Elementary. I never actually met (or knew the names) the other members (despite talking to my friend often), and nobody spoke about the Logan Hills Gang criminal exploits. Every day he informed me how many days until his 15th birthday when his brothers would allow him to “be tested.” If he passed this important criminal/violent test, he would become a member of his brother’s gang.

    My lifetime goal was to be an electrician. He thought this was a stupid goal and that I should join his gang. Apparently, joining the Logan Hills Gang was easy. All I had to do was steal some stuff (from the school) and give it to him. He 100% thought that he was pulling a fast on me. Of course, I was not interested in becoming a gang member, but we still discussed the topic.

    This boy was smart, had a genuine talent for art, and was great at reading. He had a lot of potential at that early age and could have become something great. The only difference between us was that we had vastly different family backgrounds. If circumstances were different, he would have been an outstanding Mechanical Engineer or an art teacher.

    When the school year ended, we parted ways without fanfare. I continued my education and changed my goal to be an Electrical Engineer (the best kind of engineer). Side note. At that young age, I thought electricians did all the electrical work, like repairing televisions. Later, I learned about Electrical Engineering and felt foolish for not understanding this career earlier. Perhaps I would have put more effort into fifth-grade math if I had understood the difference.

    While thinking up blog topics, I thought about this young boy from elementary school. I am sure he achieved his dream of being a full-fledged gang member. I wonder what happened to him. Did he commit crimes and get caught, or did he have a life filled with criminal exploits? Unfortunately, I do not remember his name and cannot look him up.

    This line of thinking made me question my life’s goals and some of my other choices. Is it a worthy goal to become a writer? I’d like to think so. A writer can create something from nothing and powerfully influence history.

    Unfortunately, many prominent writers had already left their mark when I entered the writing field. So, it is challenging to develop original ideas, and many of my “new” ideas were done at least once. However, there has been a revolution in writing. It is much easier to publish. For example, this blog entry costs me nothing. If this were the ‘70s, the best I could do would be to mimeograph a typewriter document and distribute the pages to friends. Now, with the click of a mouse, I can reach the entire world.

    I enjoy sharing my ideas and feeding my creative side. But I still wonder about that boy. Would he ever wish to blog about his experiences? Do prisons allow blogs?

    You’re the best -Bill

    March 18, 2023

    Hey book lovers, I published three! Please check them out.

    Interviewing Immortality, is a psychological thriller about a 500-year-old woman who forces a disgraced author to interview her.

    Pushed to the Edge of Survival, is a drama, romance, and science fiction story about two unlikely people surviving a shipwreck and live with the consequences.

    Cable Ties, is a classic spy novel about two hunters who discover that government communications are being recorded and ask the FBI to investigate.     These books are available in soft-cover on Amazon and eBook format everywhere.

[thelynncorner]

about: old friends

I miss my best friend.

He was the only one to understand me in a world where no one would even so much as listen.

When I was the new kid in school, you didn't hesitate to come up to me, and you kept coming back every time. Even if I sometimes didn't talk back because of my shyness.

You never cared about that, so why do you care now?

We would always talk during class, and I'd always play with your hair. Your long hair has always been your favorite thing in the world, and sometimes you even argued about how you just couldn't keep it short. Now you've even shaved your hair for your soccer team.

Is that what you wanted?

I know your friends had a blast while having your heads shaved, but you seemed very uncomfortable. You lied to me that time, didn't you? I asked if you were feeling okay and you told me not to worry about it, but you never looked me in the eye, and you were playing with your hands. I know you were lying. But why?

Why would you lie to me?

I've never judged you, I've never said a thing about your decisions, because it's all up to you only. Even if I disagree or do not think what you're doing is right, I've never forced you to do anything. You know that if you confessed to me all your sins I wouldn't be more than just disappointed. We all make mistakes, as long as you apologize and try to make it right, everything else is forgiven.

I remember all the time we spent together, even from little kids up to now. I sit down and wonder just how it's come to this.

I never had a problem with your male friends, I know you always wanted me to feel comfortable around them. I tried, I promise I tried, but not all of them are my type of people, that's why I got along better with some of them.

I want you to know I didn't hate Aaron.

I never had and still don't have anything against him. I don't know what he thought of me, but I believe we didn't have any grudge against one another. As far as my side of the story goes, I didn't and don't hate him.

I'm sorry I wasn't mature enough to clear up the misunderstanding. I really believed it must be you who apologized since I was in the right. Now I see that doesn't matter.

I should've reached out to you and try to sort things out.

Now I only see you from afar, because you won't even answer my texts. You said I could call you anytime but now you just leave me on read?

Do you want me to talk to you in person?

Is that it?

I did.

I reached out to you that day.

You said everything would be back to normal. You said you were sorry, so why aren't you trying to make it up to me?

You know our rule.

Apologize and make it up to the other one.

Never make the other one feel left out or ignored.

I always confided in you when I would feel left out, and you were always so patient with me. That was what made me feel special when I was with you.

Your girlfriends, oh gosh. You never get better at choosing them, do you?

I hope you find the right one soon (This current one's clearly another one of your bad picks, must I always do everything for you?).

Back when we were in middle school, you remember what Vic did to me, correct? You didn't side with her, despite her being your girlfriend and me your best friend. I apologized to both of you for reacting so badly during the fight. Especially towards her. You didn't force me to apologize though. You even laughed at how comical the situation was. That's something I regret though.

Maybe you should've been harsher. Maybe you should've sided with her after all.

I was in the wrong.

Yes, what she did was bad, but it wasn't my fight, so I shouldn't have gotten involved. However, you didn't look at it that way. You just laughed about me wanting to get revenge on your behalf.

Those were sweet naive times, weren't they?

Did you already forget about all our time together? Because I didn't. I didn't and I will never do it. Good or bad. Together or apart. Close or strained. We were best friends.

That's all that matters to me.

You made me feel precious and loved. You made me feel comfortable and happy. You made me smile so many times. So I'll forever thank you for the time we spent together. You will always have a special spot in my heart.

I thank you for all the memories we've made.

And perhaps it's time our friendship goes back to how it started, as complete strangers.

I'll love you forever.

-Lynn

[suspiciouscatastrophe]

A ventpost detailing my feelings on being unable to fully get over elementary school

(in case anybody relates, and, let's be real, because it felt so therapeutic to write)

CW: bullying, brief mentions of animal death, suicide-baiting, child-on-child sexual harassment (verbal and forced kissing)

I consistently fail to be the bigger person.

I am not a child anymore. I'm well into my twenties now. I haven't set foot in either of my elementary schools (went to two, the first from the age of 6 to 9, the other from 10 to 14) in years.

I should be able to forgive and forget. It's the mature thing to do. It's the wise thing to do. It's the strong thing to do.

Yet I can't. I haven't. I didn't. I still seethe.

Even though they have already forgiven and forgotten me.

I still remember meeting a former classmate on a train. It was just a few years ago. He said hello, asked how was I doing, smiled at me. He smiled at me. Probably expected us to chat.

He remembered my name, my face.

And I remembered his. I remembered – and I still do – him sitting in the desk one row in front of mine when we were in the fifth grade. Every recess, like clockwork, he would turn to me and start telling me how relieved my parents would be when I finally commit suicide. In hindsight, it should be funny. Imagine this small 10/11 y. o. boy monologuing his little heart out trying to come up with the most grown-up sounding heavy-ass mean speeches. But back then it wasn't very comical.

I wonder if he has any idea that I still think about his words from time to time. I wonder if he figured out that I didn't leave the train carriage because I "had a reserved seat in a different one", but because I wanted to have nothing to do with him.

Also several years in the past, I have started receiving phone calls from yet another former classmate of mine. He always called around 4 AM, since he moved to the US and couldn't be bothered to figure out the time zones so that the times were somewhat acceptable for both of us.

I have never given him my number, but that wasn't surprising. I made the mistake of exchanging numbers with some girls in our class back then when I got my first phone at 9, and one of them or several must've passed mine along. I knew that almost everybody had my number somehow, as proven by the amount of prank calls and harassment I was receiving all throughout elementary school and a bit after, too.

Anyway. The boy wanted to reconnect. He apparently thought of me as an old friend. He told me that his life overseas sucked and he was extremely lonely. He told me that he has always had a crush on me and that he wanted me to come visit him in California.

My memories of our "friendship" are quite different, though. I wasn't teasing him when I was saying almost daily that I hated him and wished he would leave me alone, I meant it. He was relentless. He bothered me constantly, daily, most of the time multiple times a day. He mocked me for every little thing. He sexualized me a lot (for clarity, the sexual aspect was only verbal, he nor any of the male bullies never touched me). He kept stealing and destroying my stuff, mainly art supplies and notebooks. His torment ranged from annoying to purely cruel, even going as far as making celebratory comments about the death of my cat, gleefully informing me that he'd send flowers to the guy who ran her over.

He was joking the whole time, but never with me, always at my expense. To him, it might’ve been the two of us "playing". It might’ve been banter. It might’ve been bonding. To me, though, it felt like he was just an enemy hellbent on siphoning all the remaining joy and safety from my life.

This boy apologized to me during one of his 4 AM calls. He said he regretted the way he treated me. He said he was being an idiot. I told him we were both just silly kids and that I have forgiven him.

That was a lie. I haven't managed to forgive him yet.

My first kiss was with a girl in the fourth grade. Well, I was in the fourth grade, she was in the second. Given that I started elementary school at 6 not 7 and therefore I was a year younger then most of my classmates, that would technically make me only one year her senior.

Nevertheless, she cornered me in the after-school playroom. Most of the pupils went there, it was a place when we waited to be picked up by our parents after class, still a part of the school, still watched over by teachers. It was only one big room, though, and so everybody saw.

Several kids surrounded me. I was one of the oldest, if not the oldest in there, but that didn't matter. I was puny and autistic, and by all means I looked, seemed and felt at least 3 or 4 years behind my actual age.

I also had the reputation of the "ugly girl". That was the point of the whole scene. The kid in question was an edgy one. She was the one child that learned a lot of profanities and kept trying to shock and impress her peers by inserting innuendos and stories about her made up "sexscapades" into every conversation. I doubt she even knew what most of the words meant, I certainly didn't, but it sounded dirty and I guess that was good enough for her. Well, and she was at it again, loudly gloating that she was such a force of nature when it came to doing "IT" that she would make out even with the stink goblin (me).

Unceremoniously she grabbed me and put her lips on mine as the other kids laughed. I don't actually remember how the kiss itself felt. It wasn't important to me at all, the only thing that mattered was how humiliated and used I felt. I think I laughed awkwardly, too, when she let go of me. I thought that what happened was normal and that I just needed to grin and bear it to save face.

It felt like there was no escape, like the only way for the constant fear, conflict and dehumanisation to stop was to wait it out. I did that. I waited it out, and it stopped. But at what cost? I honestly think I've just started unlearning some of the maladaptive behaviors and mindsets that I've internalized during that period of my life. Could've I done something sooner?

I'm still unsure what would I do now, what advice would I give to my elementary school self?

Going to adults proved to be less than useless.

When I was in the first grade and a group of fourth graders made it their regular pass-time to hold me in a chair and recline it, threatening me to let me fall onto the shelves behind us and crack my head, I couldn't see through the absurdity in their game. I was 6. So it had me genuinely terrified. I cried – and I cried for help. What did the teacher do upon hearing me?

She scolded me for being noisy.

When I told my parents that everybody in the school hated me and that they kept hurting me, they laughed and told me that it was normal, that the other kids were just teasing me because they were in love with me. Boys will be boys, amirite?

When I got upset because "my enemies" (that's the word I used) stole my set of pencils and threw it onto the wall, shattering the thing (the pencils were woodless), I got told that was what I get for bringing it to school.

When someone seemed to get fed up on our behalf with how me and my best friend at the time were treated and anonymously told the teacher, she took the whole class aside and after a brief "bullying is bad, kids" speech she let the class vote whether they thought there was any bullying actually going on in there. The vote was overwhelmingly "no", so that it was democratically concluded I wasn't being bullied in the first place.

Funnily enough, I agreed at that time. I mean, I thought that bullying was when kids push others in shoe lockers. I thought that bullying had to include bloody noses and black eyes and dead animals on the porch. When you were beaten up, then you were bullied. But if you didn't have the bruises to show for it... then you were just unpopular.

The intervention changed only one thing; it added "snitch" to my long list of unflattering characteristics in the public consciousness. I mean, who would believe me that it wasn't me who told her? Nobody.

Sometime in the latter chunk of elementary school my teacher (another one) noticed that I wasn't doing exactly stellar. I had frequent meltdowns in which I conducted myself with about the amount of subtlety of a 12 year old having a meltdown. I cried, climbed the furniture and cried more, exclaiming loudly that I do not care about what they think of me, since I am the darkness and I reclaim every insult they throw my way, and they're pathetic anyway, since no matter how much they hate me, I hate myself MORE. Well-adjusted child moment. Anyway, she noticed and sent me to the school psychologist.

Don't get me wrong. The psychologist was a delightful lady, very nice, and I loved talking to her. I adored her. She seemed to kinda understand me, and that was enough. My only friend at the time also "kinda understood", since her situation was similar (as it was later revealed, by my fault, since they hated her for hanging out with me), but neither of us had the emotional intelligence and communication skill to have a productive conversation or meaningfully support one another, so the psychologist was truly the best bet.

But I couldn't tell her a lot, could I? I didn't even acknowledge most of the stuff I now see as fucked up, since I saw it as a normal consequence of me being Evil and Useless. Maybe I did tell her something about my relationship with my peers. I don't remember, but it couldn't be enough to make her take any action. Because she didn't.

Anyway, I remember one particular conversation, a breakthrough, if you will. We were on the topic of me hating myself.

I didn't have the self-awareness nor the vocabulary to tell her that I felt like no matter what I do, I would always be seen as subhuman by people around me, so I came to the conclusion that there must've been something wrong with me.

I didn't have the self-awareness nor the vocabulary to tell her that I adopted self-loathing as a way to atone for my mistakes and escape further punishments. See? I'm just like you, fellow children, I also hate me. So you don't have to. I already took care of it.

I didn't have the self-awareness nor the vocabulary to tell her that I made it so ingrained in my identity that I was afraid that if it changed, there would be nothing left of me.

So I just said something bad about myself.

And she responded, "If you truly hate yourself, why don't you just change?"

It broke my heart.

Anyway, sorry for the tangent. The adults were useless. I still seethe over the teachers, even over the nice psychologist lady. It was her job to know better. I seethe over my father who, to this day, doesn't think he did or said anything wrong to me – ever. I have forgiven my mom, though. She apologized to me multiple times and I think she understands now. The others? Useless.

But that's not the point of the post. It's not about the adults. It's about the kids. And it's about me, an entire grown-up still not over events that happened more than 10 years ago. Am I immature? Am I in the wrong?

I do not wish anything but healing on the today's adults who used to be the children who each helped to fuck me up for life. I know nothing of their lives, and I bet they had it just as hard as I did, if not harder. They're not the people they were in elementary school. I'm not either. My younger self was an ass, too. We grew. I do not wish to ever speak to them, but I hope they're doing well.

The kids that live in my memories, though, I am not capable of forgiving.

...AITA?

[choibinn3]

GET IT TOGETHER, JUNGWON!!

[ four. O_o Yang Jungwonnie ]

series masterlist

⋆·˚ ༘ * in which jungwon had meant for that love letter to go to yeri, and not you—her bff. for some reason though, he finds that with each moment he spends together with you he's closer and closer to forgetting all about that damn letter.

luv note - chloe moriondo

WRITTEN PORTION. 1.9k words

btw remember that second hand embarrassment tag?? yeahh....

ps. this is bad, very, very bad and cheesy so be warned (its meant to be, but youll still feel pain lol)

—

student council room.

Jungwon could feel his hands clamming up, but he instead urged himself to just swallow down his nerves. For the past week he thought the biggest worry he had was his parents and Student Council work.

Not potentially losing friendships and breaking your heart.

"Jungwon? Are you still there?" your voice asked. It was slightly muffled by the door, but still distinct. "I had to tell Hyuka to go back without me."

You, he remembered. He had to fix this. He had known you since you were both in kindergarten, incidentally somehow being in the same classes up until High School. Still, he didn't know you though.

You were closer than acquaintances, maybe a little less than friends, and definitely not more than people with mutual friends. With everything that had been happening since the Student Council election, he had assumed he'd get closer to you naturally. It just never happened though, but he enjoyed your company when he could.

Yeri on the other hand, he was connected with. Being both Student Council President and Vice President meant they worked together often, and he found himself being drawn to her sweetness. He enjoyed their dynamic and their current friendship.

The way they worked complemented each other, and she always found a way to make him smile—it seemed as though her kindness and generosity knew no bounds. Plus, she related to him in a way none of his other friends did.

Late, after class and after hours, they'd both talk casually while doing paperwork. Jungwon's parents were hardheaded and stubborn people, wanting the best for him and yet stressing him out. They were the whole reason he ran for President in the first place.

He couldn't find it in himself to hate them though.

Yeri was the same, and she supported him throughout all the difficult times he went through because of them. She was soft, so level headed, fiercely loyal, and unbelievably pretty.

They had been partners and friends for a little over a month, and Jungwon was sure he wanted to at least try with her. It was young, new and unfurling feelings, it was something he wanted to find out.

Your energetic personality was charming, but that was all it was. It didn't strike his heart in any particular way. Jungwon was almost 100% sure there was no way Yeri would ever date him after this, but he needed to prioritize your feelings currently.

He just hoped Yeri and him could still be friends afterwards though—because being a liar was the one thing Jungwon wasn't.

"Yeah," he called out, "still here. You can just come back in now."

He watched as you nervously peeled back the sliding door of the clubroom, inching inside to peer at him. You walked closer to stand in front of him, and Jungwon smiled in hopes of easing your anxiousness.

You threw one back, although a bit hesitantly. "Jungwon," you started, twiddling with your fingers. He simply watched—wanting to at least let you talk a bit. Crushing your feelings now would be nothing but brutal. "Honestly, I was really surprised with the letter. Do you... remember back in 3rd grade?"

"No? I'm sorry, I'm not good with memories from Elementary School," the doe-eyed boy replied. He was telling the truth, grade school felt like ages ago and he just hasn't had the time to reminisce on childhood memories.

You held your hands up in a defensive manner. "That's fine! Um, you like... Uhh, how do I say this..." You made gestures with your figures, hoping to convey it to him in one way or another. God, this was dumb.

Jungwon observed silently as you laughed at your own stuttering. Endearing, came to mind. That was cute.

In the Council Room and in class, you were always particularly enthusiastic and excitable. Seeing you bashful was a very different side of you for the black-haired boy.

"I sent you my own love letter once. Like, a long, long time ago, and you sort of rejected me? I think."

"You think?" The boy held back a laugh, but quickly composed himself. He wasn't laughing maliciously, just... how could you be unsure of such a thing? "I'm sorry, but I still don't remember."

"Yeah, that's fine!" You nodded, embarrassed from his almost-chuckle. You did not want to seem like an idiot in front of him today. "Actually, I don't remember much either, but you didn't reply to it."

Jungwon gazed at your brows furrowed from trying to think of more words to say, and suddenly he felt a tonne of guilt fall onto him. His expression grew solemn.

Quick, get it over with, before this would get any worse.

"Look, YN—"

He had to shut his mouth almost immediately.

"What I'm trying to say is—!" You took a deep breath. "I've liked you since then! Since years, and years ago," you finally blurted, closing your eyes as to not see his reaction.

"You're the only one I've ever felt this way towards. I thought once I grew up this warmth would just... go away, but it hasn't and I don't think it will. I was honestly going to just swallow it all down hoping I'd get over it before we graduate, but I couldn't. My feelings were overflowing—I just found myself finding more things about I liked about you instead."

Your goal today was to not embarrass yourself, but to hastily tell him you liked him too before sprinting away. It seemed as though nothing was going to plan so far, for neither of you, actually.

Jungwon was left unable to speak from your surprising declaration. You took that as a sign to continue. Whatever happened next was something for future you to panic over.

"I like your dimples, that smile you make when you're passing by strangers in the hallway, and the way your hair falls when you comb through it. You're admirable in everything you do, truly. The way you help underclassmen, the way you always make sure to assist teachers during your free periods, and how you never seem to complain or get frustrated when we make mistakes."

You had nurtured your feelings for what felt like forever. Even when you were technically rejected back then, and even now. At first, you thought that he would be a passing crush from when you were a kid—but he wasn't. He grew into his own so much so that you found yourself admiring his leadership, compassion and thoughtfulness with each day you watched him.

"I like how mature you are, how you still find the time to care for your friends even with Student Council work, the natural way you light up any room you walk into, how I could honestly hear your voice talk for hours on end, how even though we haven't spoken much you still remember my favorite color from when I told you during introductions, I'm rambling gahh, just—all of it! I like all of it, everything about you!"

Everyday of harboring your secret affections for the boy consisted of soft glances during his speeches, wishes to be able to encase his hand within yours to interlock your fingers under the table during meetings, and wantings to be more than what you were to him. It was alright for a while, but it had started to become painful.

All crushes are painful, you told yourself in 5th grade, watching him start to receive confessions from your classmates.

"—I like you! I've liked you since the 3rd grade, and so I accept! I really, really want to be with you Yang Jungwon. Please take care of me!"

They were all painful, but you were given the chance to make yours not. To make your feelings real and acknowledged, to bare yourself in front of him like a vivisection—and you were taking it. Even when you were practically trembling from the embarrassment.

Jungwon was stilled from the shock. Heeseung had already told him of your long held feelings, but hearing it from your mouth while you had your eyes shut tight made him flustered.

How were you able to do that so shamelessly? To be so vulnerable and weak in front of someone? He had to write a whole letter, albeit a bit poorly, and somehow you were able to say it all.

He's received confessions before, felt those kind of feelings, but he wouldn't have been able to yell out those sort of things ever—no matter how strong his feelings were. You were dangerously bold, he thought.

Bold enough to send a bright heat to overtake his cheeks.

You looked up finally after mustering enough courage from his lack of speaking, only to find yourself blinking at a red-faced Jungwon. Oh my God, he's blushing...! YOU did that.

The both of you stood there for a while, thinking the same thought of what is even happening? Is this real, or have I just been in a daze for the past few days? Jungwon's eyes were comically wide and his mouth was gaping, but he couldn't find it in himself to close it.

The thought made you gain confidence all of a sudden, finding the opportunity to do something you had always wanted to do. Quickly and stealthily, you went onto your tippy toes—

and kissed him on the cheek.

Jungwon felt your lips on the smooth expanse of his skin, and smelt your scent from the intimate proximity. It was a chaste gesture, almost no where close to his lips at all, but he heard his heart beating against his ribcage nonetheless. It thrummed in his ears like a drum, and he wanted to whisper for it to stop.

For it to not be swayed so easily.

It was the innocence of such a thing that got to him. Not once had Jungwon held hands, kissed, or even confessed to someone up until now. Of course, you suddenly getting so close and pecking him with your hands balled up would send his heart into a flurry.

The usually put together Student Council President in front of you let out a strangled noise from the back of his throat, the tips of his ears and face becoming rosier. His throat was closing up, God, why was his throat closing up? Not now, please. He couldn't even remember what he was meant to be saying.

You smiled at him, happy to be rendering him to such a state. It was one of the most impulsive things you've done up to date, but you couldn't find yourself regretting it.

This was what those coming of age dramas on TV were describing—it was the start of one of those cheesy, really bad High School romances. Fervent, mushy, uncertain, but so tender it made your heart ache for hours even after watching.

As you retreated slowly, he caught a glimpse of your bright eyes, downcast lashes, and—holy shit you were so close. He could see the particular way you curled your lips.

He had to hold his breath.

Jungwon watched as your expression morphed into one of slight mischievousness, and an inkling of something softer, before you dashed out the sliding doors—

"Wait!

The sudden motion made him gain his words back, but you were already through the hallways with your hand on your bag.

—leaving him with nothing but the memory and the patter of your footsteps. So fast, so much speed, were you in track? The past few seconds were nothing but a blur of confusion and feelings he didn't want felt.

What just... What just happened?

previous | next - series masterlist

TLDR (but whyy :( pls read it); jungwon goes to do take backsies on his confession, u kiss his cheek, he goes coocoo bananas!!!

TAGLIST; @lumixen @ghjasksdk @atinyyylove @jjikyuu @yjwooon @ncityy04 @tyunni @littlewolfieposts @xoxojayd3n @rosiechaengz @sunshine-skz @youreverydayzebra @hobistigma @plshhhhhhh @lokideadontheinside @alo-ehas @milkycloudtyg @bangtopia

send an ask or dm

i wanted to emphasize how new his feelings for yeri :] if u could guess what this could mean. alsoooo... did u notice how fast this went ? i intended it to be rushed and "in the moment" like it was in the scene hehe

[dakotacrisis]

Topsy Turvy

Hyper-fixation has been activated! Who needs to work on their wips when they can start something else entirely? Hahaha...it’d be funny if it wasn’t true.

Anyhoo! Saw this cute comic by @hannahyonana and my goblin brain latched on and wouldn’t let it go. So I give you this unofficial expansion of this wonderful comic. In short: these children are disasters in more ways than one.

---

Two weeks. That is how long Adrien would be gone. Two long and painful weeks without seeing his face or hearing his voice. Pictures and videos were well and good but they were no proper substitute for the real thing.

Marinette came to the train station to see him off and steal a few more blessed minutes with him before he departed on his work trip/vacation. She had tried to convince Alya and Nino to come so she wasn’t totally alone with him but they already had plans. Marinette hadn't heard about any plans before this so she could only assume this was another Alya scheme to give Marinette a chance to confess.

Marinette had thought about it. Telling Adrien how she felt would get a lot off this nervous tension and anxiety off her chest. He didn’t even need to respond or give her an answer. Just having him know would be enough.

But could she do it? She had tried countless times before to no avail. What made this different?

Adrien and her walked along the platform full of people bustling to get here and there. Marinette gripped the box of macarons her parents made for Adrien behind her back.

The Gorilla took Adrien’s luggage and carried it onto the train. He looked back to see if Adrien was following.

"You go on ahead, I want to say goodbye real quick." Adrien ushered his bodyguard away. The Gorilla looked between them and with a curt nod of his head disappeared inside the train.

Adrien turned back to Marinette. His hair was stylishly tousled and his smile bright and beaming. Could the boy stop modeling for even a second? How was anyone meant to keep their wits about them with that thousand watt smile?

"Thanks for coming to see me off, Mari." Adrien said.

"Of course," Marinette replied, shuffling from foot to foot. "Even if you're only gone for two weeks…"

She brought the box out from behind her back and held it out to him. "Also, this is for you from my parents. A little something to snack on during the ride."

"What! That's so sweet! Literally." Adrien took the box with glee. "Be sure to give them my thanks."

"I will,"

BEE-BOOP!

The pair looked up at the sudden sound.

"Oh, that means it's time for me to go," Adrien said with a small shake of his head.

Gone again. In just another minute he'd be out of her reach once more. Even after all this time saying goodbye felt so hard. He was only going to be gone for two weeks! He was gonna come back! Why did it hurt so much being away from him?

That familiar weight settled on her chest. So many feelings left unspoken. Secrets she was dying to share. It felt like they were smothering her.

"Before you go," Marinette halted him before he could enter the train, "I have something to tell you."

"Oh yeah?" Adrien tilted his head like a curious little puppy. Why did he have to be so cute? Marinette was sweating he was so cute. Or maybe that was just her inner terror at what she was about to say.

"Well I--you see--I…" Marinette stammered and lost her nerve, "I uh, make sure to send us pictures."

"Of course!" Adrien responded with glee. "Alright well, see you later, Marinette."

He turned to get on the train and Marinette’s heart sank. Another chance at happiness, wasted. Perhaps it was for the best.

She forced her feet to move, to carry her from this painful moment. When they did though they didn't back away. They surged forward. She was barely aware that she had reached out for Adrien until she grabbed the back of his shirt.

"Wait! That's not it!" She proclaimed loudly. Her nerves came out in the shakiness and desperation in her voice. She kept her eyes shut tight. Afraid of what she would see if she opened them.

"The truth is, I'm in love with you!" She  blurted out. She let go of his shirt, her hands fisted into tight balls by her side as she quickly explained, "I'm not expecting a reply. I know you don't like me back. But have a nice trip!"

She turned on her heel and fled. Tears of anxiety or fear stinging her eyes. The last thing she heard was Adrien calling out for her to wait. Once she was far enough away she risked a glance back and saw Adrien’s face staring out the closed door in shock before the train pulled away from the station.

She stared at the now empty train track for a long time before it truly hit her. She just told Adrien she was in love with him. He was going to be thinking about how she told him she loved him for the next two weeks. Then she was going to have to face him knowing all that when he returned home.

Marinette whipped out her phone and called Alya. “I did something stupid and I need help.”

---

Adrien pulled himself away from the train door and sat down in his seat. Marinette’s parting words echoed in his ears. She loves him. She is in love with him.

When did that happen? He knew they were friends but he hadn’t expected her to be in love with him. Marinette…

He glanced down at the box in his hands. Something small and sweet to take with him. A reminder of home. A reminder of someone petite and kind that just spilled her heart out to him on the train platform.

She said she didn’t expect a response but he felt like he owed her one. She had also said she knew that he didn’t like her the same way she liked him. While it was true that Adrien’s heart had belonged to Ladybug for as long as he’s known her he did feel a warmth around Marinette. Was that love? Or was it just friendship?

Nino had a crush on Marinette. Maybe he would know. Adrien pulled out his phone and hit Nino’s number. “Hey, I’m on the train heading out but I had a question about Marinette.”

---

“Oh dear,” Alya shook her head, she covered the receiver of her phone so Marinette couldn’t hear. Not that Marinette could hear anything over the sound of her own panicked ramblings. She turned to Nino on the couch with a sly smile.  “Marinette just confessed to Adrien before he went on his trip and she’s freaking out.”

“Wow, good for her, do you think Adrien will respond?” Nino asked.

“No idea,” Alya shrugged, “It’s a good thing we left them alone though. Marinette finally got the guts to say something to him.”

“Speak of the devil,” Nino held up his phone where Adrien’s contact picture flashed on the screen. He hit answer. “Hey dude, what’s up? Miss me already?”

Alya went back to listening to Marinette and trying to calm her down while Nino talked to Adrien. The both of them were panicking messes as they ranted and lamented at their respective best friends over the phone.

“I don’t really know what to tell you about your own feelings, dude,” Nino told Adrien, “Yeah I had a crush on Marinette but it only lasted a week. That’s kind of how it is with most of the people from our class.”

“What?” Adrien said.

“Yeah, literally everyone has had a small crush on Marinette at one point or another growing up. You’re like the only person who hasn’t. Which is weird considering how much she dotes on you and swoons around you. Did you really not know about her crush until today?”

“No!”

“Ah...then again you have been head over heels for Ladybug I don’t suppose you would have noticed anyone else unless they confessed to you point blank.” Nino said. He had thought that Adrien’s crush on the spotted hero of Paris was something that had been waning recently once he had agreed to go out with Kagami. But when they broke up it had returned full force.

“Marinette, hold on a second,” Alya shushed Marinette on the other line and turned to Nino with wide eyes, “Did you just say that Adrien has a crush on Ladybug?”

“Uh yeah? Why?”

“What’s going on?” Adrien asked.

“Alya is--”

Alya snatched the phone out of his hands. She held up the other phone with Marinette on the line. “Girl, I know you are spiraling right now but I am gonna need to call you back. I swear I will only be like ten minutes max. Goodbye.” she turned to Nino’s phone, “Now you, pretty boy, I’m gonna need you to repeat that for me.”

“That I have a crush on Ladybug?” Adrien answered timidly.

“How long has that been a thing?”

“Since she first showed up in Paris. Why?”

Nino saw the calculations going off in Alya’s head as she processed this information. Had she not known? He was sure she had to have known but apparently that wasn’t the case.

“Adrien, listen to me very carefully,” Alya said, “You are going to want to accept Marinette’s feelings.”

“Listen, Alya, I know that you are her best friend but--”

“No buts, Agreste!” Alya snapped, “Really listen to me here. I know that you have feelings for Ladybug. Who wouldn’t? She’s amazing but she’s also a superhero with a secret identity. Do you really think you can take Ladybug out to the movies or invite her home for dinner? How are you gonna call her? How do you plan on making that work?”

“Well I--”

“Moonlight rendezvous over the rooftops of Paris sound fine and dandy but you know what else is nice? Marinette. Tangible and readily available with romantic feelings already pre-downloaded in her core. You already call her our Everyday Ladybug. What more do you want?”

“I see your point. But that situation is a little more complicated than that.”

“No it isn’t. Do you not think Marinette is great?”

“She is. She really is.”

“Do you not think she is cute?”

“She is very adorable and attractive. I will confess to that.”

“So if Ladybug wasn’t a thing then would you consider dating Marinette?”

“I mean I guess. But Ladybug is still real and she owns my heart. I can’t just give up on her that easily.”

“Adrien, I do not know how to tell you this but you are not giving up anything by dating Marinette. She is every bit as amazing as Ladybug and you would do well to remember that. As a wise man once said, “far better than any dream girl, is one of flesh and blood, one warm and caring, and right before your eyes.””

“Did you steal that from The Little Mermaid?”

“Not the point! Just think on it. You have two weeks before you come back and make a decision. I suggest you use the time wisely and really consider what I’m telling you. I’m not just saying this because Marinette is my best friend but because I know deep in my gut that you two were made for each other. The only one that doesn’t see it is you.”

“You think we’re made for each other?” Adrien’s voice was soft and quiet. It made Alya’s heart melt.

“I do. I think that you two would make each other so incredibly happy.” Alya sighed, “But no pressure or anything. At the end of the day it is your heart and your choice. I’m just asking you to look at all the possibilities before you make a decision.”

“Okay, I’ll think on it. I promise.”

“Good. Now I gotta call Marinette back before she worries herself into a human pretzel. Bye.” Alya handed the phone back to Nino. She dialed Marinette back and wandered into her room for privacy.

“Why did you hang up on me?” Marinette asked. “I am having a crisis here!”

“Girl,” Alya’s face broke into a grin that would put the Cheshire Cat to shame. “You are not gonna believe this. Adrien’s had a crush on you this entire time. Or rather, a huge, massive, fanboy crush on Ladybug that is.”

“WHAT!”

*Two weeks later*

Well that was the longest two weeks of Adrien’s life. He had done what Alya suggested and really thought over his feelings for Marinette and Ladybug. The more he compared them the more he realized how alike they were. He knew he called Marinette their Everyday Ladybug but he hadn’t realized how true that was until now.

His heart belonged to Ladybug but he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel anything for Marinette. Adrien knew that through Alya and Nino’s eyes the answer was obvious. Marinette was their friend and classmate and she was so much closer to them then Ladybug. But they didn’t know that Adrien was Chat Noir. They didn’t know that he had a direct line to Ladybug. They didn’t know he had this already huge connection to her.

So what was there to do? Have a happy civilian life with Marinette and stop his pursuit of Ladybug? Or let Marinette down gently and keep trying to make things work with his Lady? He needed to come to a decision quick since his train was getting closer to the Paris station. What if Marinette was waiting out on the platform? What was he going to tell her?

The train came to a screeching halt that flung everyone forward. What in the world was that? HE scrambled to the window and saw the leg of a huge a robot. An akuma.

He was thinking up an excuse to leave his bodyguard when the roof of the train was ripped off. The giant robot looked in and reached out its hand and started grabbing random people and dropping them into its mouth.

He had to get out of here and transform! He made a bolt for the bathroom but the robot got him first and lifted him off the ground. He struggled to get free but he was no use against thousands of pounds of metal and magic.

“Oh no you don’t!” the robot’s arm lurched away from its mouth. Ladybug stood on a nearby building with her yo-yo drawn tight to keep the robot from dropping Adrien down its gullet. “Rena! Now!”

Rena Rouge leapt out from behind Ladybug and pounced at the akuma. She dug her flute down between Adrien and the clamp holding him captive. With a large heave she pried the clamp open enough for Adrien to wiggle free. She reached to grab him but at that moment the robot had broken free from Ladybug’s hold and the pair of them were thrown off.

“I got ya!” Ladybug swooped down and grabbed hold of Adrien. Rena was quick on her feet made a safe landing down on the ground.

They landed on a nearby rooftop for Ladybug to deposit him. “You okay?” She asked.

“Yeah, never better,” Adrien’s heart was beating wildly in his chest.

“Good,” Ladybug looked back at the akuma with a small frown, “I gotta go take care of this guy but you should be safe here.”

“Alright,”

“By the way you’re really cute and I think we should go to a movie sometime. Bye!” Ladybug said quickly and leapt back into the fight.

“Wait! What?!” Adrien shouted after her but she was already gone. He was so stunned that by the time he remembered he was Chat Noir and should be helping Ladybug and Rena Rouge had already defeated the akuma.

The miraculous cure swept across the city and Adrien was deposited back in the fixed train in his seat like nothing had happened. Well this got a whole lot more complicated!

---

(Part 2)