#that concert was fucking better than therapy i swear to god

[loverboybrightsideghost]

i think that fixed me

AJR CONCERT

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #420

lol blaze it (i’m funny i swear)

In your opinion, which fast food place has the best fries? Without a doubt, Bojangle's. Good. Shit. Are there hurricanes where you live? Yeah, they're common here. What do you hate the most about yourself? I'd really rather not get into this right about now. What song are you listening to right now? "Beast of Gévaudan" by Powerwolf. What was your first concert? Alice Cooper. Also my only concert. What’s your favorite Johnny Depp movie? Alice In Wonderland. Who did you last say “I love you” to? My sister. Do you like pumpkin pie? Anything pumpkin-flavored is a hell no from me. Do you know anyone named Austin? Knew, rather. Do you know anyone who is having a baby? My friend recently announced she and her husband are having their second child in December. What was the last thing you cried about? Just PTSD. Do you prefer regular or chocolate milk? I like both, but I prefer chocolate. Do you think you are an argumentative person? Definitely not. How many deep dark secrets do you have? Two or so, idk. What was the spiciest thing you’ve ever eaten? Some wings at Buffalo Wild Wings with one of the hottest sauces. Wanted to die. ... Yet I continued to get that one whenever I went for years lmao. Who last called you sexy? I don't know. Would you class yourself as a good role model? In some ways, but in a lot of other ways, no. Are you scared of the dark? No. Do you have a motto? No. Who did you last see on webcam? The doctor that overlooks my TMS progress. Do you need a haircut? I need a trim for sure. How would you react if your mother told you that she was pregnant again? Well, considering 1.) she's way past menopause and especially 2.) she's had a complete hysterectomy, y'know... that's kind of impossible. She also hasn't been with a guy in many years, so she would have to be joking. You log into Facebook and see the red ‘1’ notification next to the message icon. Who do you want it to be? -___- Would you rather exercise alone or with other people? ALONE. You will NOT see me exercise in front of other people. What is the most difficult or involved video game you’ve ever played? The most involved is DEFINITELY World of Warcraft, and I guess you could consider it the hardest too, given some of the much more difficult things I've done in it. It itself isn't a hard game whatsoever, but you can pursue some really hard achievements. Ever watch the show Supernatural? If you have, then what’s your favorite episode? I used to love it, but just stopped watching eventually. My fave episode... Man, it's been too long to remember many. Probably one of the funnier ones. I remember I specifically liked the bit where they were in your everyday comedy show, as well as the one where I THINK Dean kept trying to prevent Sam from dying. I just remember the "Eye of the Tiger" bit that is pure gold. Ever heard of flavored honey? If so, what’s you’re favorite flavor? Oh, no, but that sounds good. Do you remember what your favorite show was when you were little? Yeah, Pokemon. Do you put anything besides cheese on grilled cheese sandwiches? Besides butter, which I think is pretty standard, no. When it comes to books, what do you think is the “perfect” amount of pages? Uh, I dunno. It depends on the book. I don't really care about page numbers. Would you ever be interested in going scuba diving? Yeah. Out of all of your friends/relatives, who would you say has the best vocabulary? Girt, probably. Are any of your fingers or toes deformed? What about the nails? I don't think so? When is the last time you cried? I was sobbing earlier today, fun stuff. Would you ever date somebody that has been divorced more than once? Most likely not. ESPECIALLY at my age. What are some stereotypically nerdy things that you like? Oh god. WoW, M:tG, big glasses, anime (does that count? idk really), video games... a lot of stuff, really. Have you ever attended a wedding that ended where the bride and groom didn’t actually get married? What happened? Y I K E S, no. That would be SO uncomf. What scares you the most about becoming a mother (hypothetically, if you don’t want to have children)? Actually raising it properly, physically and emotionally. Would you ever want a job in fashion? What would you enjoy about that type of job? No. Would you ever be a surrogate mother? No. What do you think would be the best and worst parts about being a twin? It'd be cool to have someone you feel an almost supernatural connection towards, but I'd also feel like I wasn't as "original" as I would be if I was born alone. Do you feel that your childhood was more rough compared to others around you? I mean it wasn't awful at all, but sure, in some ways compared to at least someone. How would you react if you found out today that you were actually adopted? Well today I'm a wreck, so don't tell me. I want to know that I wasn't lied to for 25 years. Have either of your parents ever cheated on one another before, that you know of? How would you react if you found out today that one of them cheated? I'm not entirely clear on this, but I'm 90% sure Dad cheated on Mom with his now-wife. Dad also accused Mom of cheating, but I HIGHLY doubt that's true. Do you like cleaning and organizing? Not really. How would you react if you found out you were infertile? If you don’t plan on having kids to begin with, what is a long-term goal you’d be crushed to find out was impossible to achieve? Fuck having kids. I'd be a terrible mother. So to answer the other question, I'll be pretty, pretty sad if I can't get permission to spread Teddy's ashes at Yellowstone. Would you take your dream job if it were out of the country? Well, obviously not considering my dream job is a meerkat biologist, and I'm not moving to Africa. Have you ever been robbed? No. Is anyone close to you an alcoholic? Not anymore. Dad was, but he's recovered. Have you ever dumped anyone? Yes. What kind of tea do you drink? I hate tea. Do you know anyone in a gang? No, and I hope I never do. What’s the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for you? Risk his fucking sanity and health to try to hold my fucked up self up. What is your orientation? Gay? Straight? Metrosexual? Anything other? Bisexual. I've kinda been questioning pansexual of the late, though. I don't know. Have you ever done anything really dangerous or illegal with friends? Not to my memory. Name three feelings you’re feeling right now: Regret. Hopelessness. Loneliness. And the reasons for these feelings? Take a wild fuckin' guess. How do you feel about your life right now? It's an actual dumpster fire. Is it easy for you to like yourself? Why or why not? Fuck no. Because there's just not very much TO like about me. Even on my good days, I see flaw after flaw in myself. What subjects come naturally to you? English, some aspects of science. What subjects do not? Math, economics, politics, history... Do you read more fiction or more non-fiction books? Definitely fiction. When I read a book, I want an escape from the real world. How has today been for you? BOY HOWDY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! What did you do? Went to TMS therapy. Sat on the Internet. Cried. :^) Are there any candles lit in the room you’re in? No. Are there any lava lamps near you? No. I want one, though. Do you like cats or dogs better? Cats. Are any of your friends a pothead? Yes. What’s a goal you’re trying to accomplish soon? Start losing weight again. That'd be pretty goddamn grand. Are you a high maintenance person? Definitely not. The last time you yelled as loud as you could, what was the reason? I was having a nightmare. Have you ever been heartbroken? For sure. Who did that to you? First Dad, then Jason. Did you go through an ugly stage as a kid? Boy, did I. The last type of sandwich you made or ate: A pb&j. The last time you spent most of the day in bed: Literally every day. I do just about everything in bed. Pathetic, I know. The last friend or acquaintance you made: Ummmm idk. The last thing you took pictures of: A hydrangea bush. The last time you were scared: Now. The future is terrifying, my friend. The last thing you looked up online: The definition of a word to ensure I was using it correctly. The last thing you disagreed with: So I've been watching John Wolfe's old stream of him playing Alice: Madness Returns, and he went on a total soapbox about smoking being okay essentially because we're all gonna die eventually from something, and I really disagreed with it. Does your house have a separate laundry room? No, just like a closet. Do your parents still help you financially? I'm still entirely dependent on them. Does your car have a backup camera? No. Have either of your parents ever been in trouble with the law? Not to my knowledge. Have you ever had a pet that lived to be really old for its breed/species? REALLY old, no. Teddy was definitely up there, but beagles have lived longer. What was the last strong scent you smelled? Lysol. Have you ever told someone to their face that they were ugly? Christ, no. Is your bed against more than one of your walls? No. Have you ever been attracted to someone’s parent? Don't think so? Have you ever pole danced before? No. Have you ever broken into someone’s house? No. Have you ever seen a live bat? Yes. What is the most amount of money you’ve spent on a meal before? I dunno. Have you ever taken a woodshop class? No. How much time do you spend on Facebook, if you have one? Funny you ask, because as of today I decided to take a break from it for awhile. I've found it's nothing more than a breeding ground for envy and making me feel like a horribly incompetent adult. Has a teacher ever made you hate yourself/your work? I had one photography teacher in college that I was NOT a fan of. He was super, super hard on everyone, like to an unnecessary degree. We were students, not pros. Have you ever been on the barrier or front row at a concert? No. Are your parents supportive of you? Somehow.

[subbyboymax]

I want to ask you all of them 🙈🙈

So why won’t you ask all of them? Huh anon?

Jk I love you whoever you are. As requested:

1. Zodiac sign 

Taurus. I don’t really pay much attention to zodiac stuff but I’ve heard from friends that I fit the stereotypes somewhat.

2. Sexual orientation 

This is hard because I’m kinda questioning atm, but I would say I like women and identify as NB using male pronouns which I personally feel is accurate to me, but I still am unsure myself what that actually means. I am still figuring myself out.

3. Relationship status 

Single and honestly looking. I’ve had one girlfriend in high school and I’ve had romantic interests since but I have such low self confidence that I end up being too nervous to really pursue a relationship.

4. Someone you miss 

My friend Rebekah. I miss her a lot. She’s like a sister to me.

5. Person who’s arms you’d like to be in 

Hmmmmmmmmm... anyone really...

6. What you find attractive in Men/Women? 

Typically I find personality attractive and looks don’t really matter, but usually someone’s smile and eyes draw my attention the most.

7. How tall are you? 

5’7 or ~170cm but I wish I was more smol.

8. What you love about yourself? 

Already answered

9. What you’re doing tomorrow? 

I’m probably going to exercise and play games with my gaming clan.

10. What are your future plans? 

My goal is to become an electrician, but I also want to go to various Asian countries and try to improve my Asian cooking by studying the food culture all over east asia.

11. Your last night out in detail?

Oh god I don’t even remember the last time I was out at night... I guess it was last year when I had my heart broken and I went to a really nice bar and spent $200 on alcohol and was GONE. Never again. Ended up being hung over for the first time in my life.

12. Your favorite book? 

Hmm... favorite book(s) would have to be the Ranger’s Apprentice series of books. Good story, good characters.

13. All of pets you’ve ever had?

I’ve had so many pets I could make a whole post about them and may do that later.

14. Something that changed your life? 

Unfortunately too many things have happened to change my life more than I would like. I still can’t really answer this question fully.

15. Do you remember your last dream?

I was basically playing a game that turned out to be an isekai and I basically had a SMG and had to fight off a dragon. Shit was weird but very vivid. It’s weird because I don’t particularly like guns or dangerous stuff in general. 

16. What your last text message says? 

“Keep me posted! We should meet up and have a toast to it!” was sent to my friend Renè, who has been my best friend since birth pretty much. Our parents were close while they were pregnant with us and we are practically brothers. He’s getting a house near where I live and we will live in the same state for the first time since we were 8 years old. Obviously we will social distance but we still had to celebrate and see each other to mark the occasion.

17. Do you respect your government and the way your country is run? 

Absolutely not. Please vote biden if you live in the US. Even if you hate the idea of voting for biden, he’s better than trump. If hillary had won, she would have been putting her third justice on the supreme court. Biden is the only chance for our freedom and for the freedom of many people. I am terrified of 4 more years of trump.

18. Where you would like to live? 

South Florida, where I was born.

19. Your  favorite flavor of ice cream?

Depends on my mood, but typically strawberry.

20. Last thing you ate?

Pizza that was left over from last night. 

21. Which swear word do you use the most? 

Fuck. Like I use it so much it’s stupid.

22. Your plans for summer?

Heh... plans...

23. Any upcoming concerts?

Bruh if only. Like I work as an usher and as a stagehand, so if any concerts were happening at all I would JUMP for joy. And I am CHONK so jumping is not exactly the most comfortable thing to do. 

24. Something that you’re proud of?

That I am finally committing to getting therapy for my long list of traumas. 

25. Do you still talk to your first crush?

I wish I could, but she’s not part of my life anymore, sadly. She was a good friend. 

26. What language do you want to learn? 

Japanese, because I really have a strong interest in their history and culture and want to go sightseeing there someday.

27. Where have you lived before?

Ft. Lauderdale, Florida and St. Louis, Missouri.  

28. Eye color?

I think it’s green or something but it changes depending on the light because it’s sometimes more silvery idk.

29. Favorite style of clothing?

Traditional Japanese formal wear. It’s always been an interest of mine. 

30. How long does it take you to get ready in the morning?

All of one minute to throw on an outfit and get socks on. I wish I had an eye for fashion but hopefully if I ever have a partner, they will help me with my style choices a bit lol. 

31. Where did you go today?

Nowhere, because pandemic lmao. 

32. Where are you right now?

In my room wishing I could have cuddles. 

33. How many countries have you visited?

None because money is not exactly a thing we have an abundance of.

34. Something old?

What does this mean? I guess I have my great grandfather’s old stamp collection. 

35. Something new?

Hell if I know, I’ve had nothing new in months.

36. Something inherited?

My laptop.

37. Is death more scary than life? 

Hell no. Death is easy. Life is scary and overwhelming but it’s worth living the life you have. You only lose out on life by dying before your time. You gain nothing in death, despite it being less scary and uncertain than living is. Keep living to experience everything you can and have no regrets once you do pass on.

38. Experience you’ll never forget?

The time my high school crush complimented my hair in physics class. I get very few compliments and I never feel that attractive so I hardly focus on my appearance but I had brushed my hair that day and the fact she commented on it made me smile very wide.

39. What’s your favorite part about today so far?

Honestly today has sucked and I have been dealing with depression but I am trying to stay positive. Hopefully the answer to this question changes later today! 

40. Who is your hero?

My Great-Grandmother. She was part of my life until I was 17 and she taught me that kindness and compassion is the most important trait for a human to have. She was the most amazing woman I have ever met in my life. 

41. Are you happy with where you live?

I love this house, but it’s definitely not perfect and I would love to have my own place someday. 

42. Do you like your handwriting? 

Ew no it looks like alien language. It’s so bad. I can barely read my own writing.

43. What do you wear to bed?

Typically just underwear, or in the winter I will wear a T-shirt and fleecy pants.

44. Tea or coffee?

Tea

45. Chocolate or Vanilla? 

Chocolate hands down. It’s such a varied flavor imo. 

46. Are you excited for anything?

Being okay someday. 

47. How late did you stay up last night and why? 

Midnight because sleep is hard.

48. What’s your ringtone?

I’m boring and keep my phone on vibrate so no ringtone.

49. Did you have a dream last night?

Yes, I said it earlier. 

50. What keeps you going each day?

Honestly no fucking idea lmao.

51. Picture of yourself?

You’ll have to DM me for that one, friendo. Anons get no face pics!

Also for the other people who sent in asks, I saw them, but I figured I could just use this ask to consolidate and not spam posts. Thank all of you for sending in asks, you are the best <3

[estradioltone]

Why’s my stomach hurting? Why am I feeling so lonely when I have so many messages to answer? I CANNOT have another favorite person. Does that mean I’m doomed to high school loneliness?

When I was fifteen lots of people liked me AND I didn’t have a favorite person. Sean? Sam? Danica S? I’m trying to remember. Alex? Stephanie? What show did we do that year? It was Charlie Brown. Mattress, Charlie Brown, Trial by Jury, Sound of Music, and Alice. Shauna? Alex? Danni? Jonathan? Jordan? Danica made those CDs for me. Gabi? Ellery? Irene? Keziah? There were so many people. And none was the favorite. Kaz? Therone? Felicia? Deja? Corri? Jae? Cassie? Leslie? Laureen? Katy? There were so many people around me and I wasn’t the favorite and no one was my favorite. I wasn’t even talking to Amanda at that point. And I did like her. There were a number of people I was attracted to, and, I didn’t make any moves, bc I didn’t get close enough to them in terms of conversations. I needed that first. Like to be comfortable? Lauren? Was she in focus? I can’t remember much if anything about her now, and I was so into her then. Kari?

I used to change with Kari.

Oliver and his male friends used to change in front of each other.

Kari was so great. We were always friends only. I don’t think either of us ever had feelings for the other. She was such an amazing friend. Caitlin? Anna or Sarah? Sarah F? Janell? This is the first time I’ve dug into the memories of those earlier high school years. It literally feels like a backhoe digging into dirt and clearing it away. Archeologist excavating.

I remember sitting in 204 watching some movie in the dark. Mrs. H was teaching. I don’t have memories. Of what we learned. I never learned in English. I never knew what the fuck was going on I just always got A’s. I wrote that paper about having a peanut allergy. It has terrible racist stereotypes. No one called me out. No teacher. I was fifteen. Today I would e known better. Unless I was a republican. Like I was then. I was very conservative. How was I conservative? It didn’t fit with any part of how I acted. Danielle? Remember that film I made that was literally just everyone swearing. Spencer? I remember so many things. Why did I write that.

I don’t want to remember many things.

Why not? That’s so fucking weird. There are many things I don’t want to remember? Where did that thought come from?

I don’t want to remember bc it hurts too much to remember? That thought just came to me.

I wasn’t hurting during that year. I wasn’t depressed. It was like that time with M in sophomore college. Wow. In that moment sophomore looked like high school sophomore to me. It felt like being in Maine. It felt like mid August two summers ago. It’s summer. It’s June. Two summers ago he sucked my sick for the first time and I couldn’t even get hard. I knew what I was doing was wrong and I forced myself to keep going bc I wanted it. That was my fuck up moment. He kissed me that night. It was like Amanda asking to marry me what the fuck to DATE me. How did that happen? It’s in retrospect I wish I’d said no

The hurt is that if I remember I’ll double remember how

The blue waffle thermal

I remember the car and snow pants but not skiing. I remember kissing and my precut glowing like a river. I got wet like a girl. I got hard like a boy. I don’t know what’s normal.

I remember the night she came to see me at the Estonian concert. “Let’s go over here. Lots of girls like me here.” She later told me that freaked her out not freaked out it was like “ullll” what are the words that describe what that means it’s like a little oh no and yikes at the same time. It’s like when O asked me what my main interest in the relationship was and I said sex. And he had the same reaction. And I said, how could I have ever said something like that. It’s callous. And, it was honest. And then I got attached. Before I was having fun. I was happy.

And when I’m happy and having fun I behave like a disgusting jock boy. Maybe that’s who I essentially am. Maybe I’m choosing to be trans so I can become a different person. I do want to become a different person. Even then I thought back like what the fuck was I doing. Like when I touched G and C’s breasts. And I wasn’t allowed to go to cast parties. I didn’t get to do wild things. Would I have?

I was so many different people. I’m also the person at Sam’s house who was afraid to be there.

Remember Caitlins white dreads. Remember when Safi first came to school or Kylie. Remember how cool and superior you felt. Remember how everyone was lesser in your eyes. Sophie. Edna. Kendra. Nikki. That girl molly sitting on my lap and I was hard as fuck. I didn’t think of that in so long. Was that ninth grade? Or eighth?

We were at Burgerville.

I was just doing whatever I wanted.

Is that who I am in a state of nature?

And, I’m the person who stayed in my room instead of going out for a birthday party.

What was Menucha like that year

I didn’t have many years with older friends after that.

Remember Laura. You were twelve and she was seventeen. But you never really talked after the show ended. Would she hug me? Did she hug me in sixth grade? Was I happy at the end of sixth grade???? I think she hugged me by the 201 door. I can remember it now.

I drew that picture of her.

I said “your eyes aren’t quite even.” Wow that must have hurt her and I could see it in her face.

I did whatever I wanted. I thought I was cool I was trying to be cool at all times.

That was my first summer in Eugene. Jessica Zach Ted. Dr. A. Joe. Nicholas. Brahms. Komm Jesu Komm. Standing on the steps in that rehearsal room. My feet sweaty and stinky as fuck. Black like sweat things coming off my toes. My roommate was Nick.

That moment in the hallway taking down my pants. “Should we go all the way?”

Jessica wanted to be closer than I did. I fall back on ppl when I’m lonely but don’t want closeness when I’m not. I use people. I do what O did to me. He didn’t really love me? Or did he?

I’m single now but I’m not having fun but I need to give it more time and I am being more wild. I started to get wild sophomore year. Sarah G. I thought things had changed. But I didn’t want them to change bc I wanted to be unhappy there??????????????

You’re really cool for a freshman. Others wouldn’t do that.

Well I’m basically a senior bc I’ve already been at my school four years.

High school was my college time in a way. It was my amazing time and I was studying and creating big projects. College was my high school time hating things and not self actualizing and not being myself.

Did I do it on purpose???????????? Is that kind of thing possible???????? I know I’ve thought that before. Can I be faking this all? This little voice says yes. What the fuck. I have to be honest about that little voice. I have to bring it up.

She isn’t going to set the agenda. If I want to keep going on the same subject, I have to push onwards into it. What memories are there to open up there? God this is going to take so long and I want to do other things and I know I want to have done this work of digging through elementary school and things.

Honor choir I was the only freshman and I sang alone and they all clapped and cheered for me. I pooped and made the room stink and I was too embarrassed to say. I didn’t have anyone to sit with. I couldn’t sit with people who seemed cool to me. The directors were like gods. The guys were from Montana. I was wearing my first set of boxer briefs. They said I wasn’t like a normal freshman. The performance meant almost nothing. I was sick to my stomach going. I was sick to my stomach going to Eugene. I was sick to my stomach for years before undergrad. J. K. was too. She told me that later on. We read that same book.

I wanted to prove myself. That other guy was shaving and we were all sharing the bathroom. He was shaving. I took my underwear off before getting in the shower. I wanted to show myself I could. I wanted to expose myself.

Why am I so obsessed with the idea of having been molested or raped now and not earlier in my life? How could that be possible? How could I not have remembered it sooner? Or thought of it? Not in undergrad at all. I must be making up that fear. I make up my whole life. All of life is imagined and made up and fake and shit. All of life is imagined period. How am I tired again and yawning. I was always yawning with the computer on my lap. They said the computer heat makes you infertile. Did I lose my chance of having a bigger dick bc I sat a computer on my lap? I loved having a laptop. And, I never looked at porn porn. I was so abnormal. Everyone else did.

Talking with Jacob about penis size. I didn’t think about size mattering. That Hannah who later must’ve fucked Matt P. He came down with shorts so short his dick was hanging out. It was so exciting to me, and horrifying, bc I liked her. I liked so many people. I like so many people simultaneously. I jump around. I can’t find my place. Maybe I don’t have a place. Singing was my place.

I really liked Cole. How much older is he than me? Less older than I am compared to O. I think. He went to India and then he came back and did what. Was he only 24 or 25? We all thought it was fucked up that he dated Eric L and he was a senior and Eric was a freshman. He came out later. I’m so fucked. W moved on to a whole different kind of life where she has adult friends with children and she and F will probably have a kid sooner than later. She already got pregnant once.

J and M (C) are growing up a lot. I see everyone else changing so much. I’m objectively changing with HRT and whatnot. And therapy. And I don’t feel like I’m changing. When change is slow you don’t feel it. Which of these people is really me? My developmental stages are so mixed up. As a kid I fit better with adults. Even my parents say that. Now I really like nineteen year olds and twenty year olds. And, I just saw H and M tonight and there was a big gap between me and H but I was quite into M. I wanted to look at their breasts and forced myself not to. I wonder if both of them noticed and they talked about it later. I wonder how much people notice the things I try to hide. Am I good at it? Am I better than I think? Which me is really me?

I want my breasts to stay small. So I don’t get judged. I’m very worried about being judged. I’m not a women and I don’t like being called a woman. I felt like a man and no longer a boy if that makes sense. But I can be called a girl. I’m getting very agitated thinking that I’m faking being trans. We all change our gender identities bc it’s the thing to do. Conservatives are right. We should be conservatives. The conservative position is easier to defend. They never have to prove themselves. Their beliefs are the old ones. Why should we change. Life is fine. My mom doesn’t want things to change. Or I’m projecting on her. I tho m I’m better than others and I project my bad things onto them so I don’t deal with them. Is that why I feel so free?

How fucked up am I. I wrote that paper about L dying in sophomore year. I’m more introspective and controlled when I’m in a relationship. With A and W and O. Not D. I had to lie about her attractiveness. But I loved her mind. Or I loved her being there for me when I needed someone.

S isn’t comfortable with me. We went to the beach tgt with her brother. I felt she brought her brother so we would t be alone tgt. She probably knows I have feelings for her. And have for over ten years. She’s honestly so pretty. She never replies when I message her on ig. She’s had so much sex and partied so much. Idk if her hair really came back after her eating disorder. She’s a professor. A real one. Not like fake ass me. I live at home. I’m Jim the gentleman caller. I just want to relive my moment of being cool. She wasn’t cool in high school. And, she had a group. And, she’s secure in herself now. Is she? I don’t know her. She doesn’t engage with me probably bc she knows I have feelings for her. If she had feelings for me she wouldn’t react in that way. She would want to talk to me. Or she’s holding me back bc I’m a nightmare pos.

My dads bloody eyeballs. Bloody eyeball in New York.

I had introspection awake at night on my computer. Maybe if I slept more I’d have a bigger dick. They called me pancake. I’m sad that W’s life is complete without me. As I thought earlier me like O so much must make her feel the same way. S watches all my stories but never messages me. She keeps her distance on purpose and has for years. I need to stop reacting to her posts and messaging her ever. She never ever ever reacts to me. I talked to her about O. That was one of our only conversations. In the past year I mean.

I have so much left to say I have to pee I always tried to hold my excretia in.

I used to put stuff in my butt. They took me to the doctor for it I think. And in my ear. Or was that S. I know I fingered myself when I was quite young. I’ve been obsessed with pooping since forever. Obsessed. Butts. Anal phase development. Freud. We both stuck stuff inside ourselves I think. Or was it only him that stick stuff inside his butt. I can’t remember for sure. I thought it was me.

My blue basketball tracksuit. Orange basketball. So excited. Getting up early and getting fully dressed by myself. So excited. Running to my parents. It was so early. They told me to go back to sleep. They were sleeping. I couldn’t sleep. I read something. It was so boring.

Everyone was asleep at the R house. I woke up early and first and I was so bored. I went to play that football video game. My mom got mad at me for playing that game too much. Did she get mad that morning? Tf was I supposed to do????? I was bored. Why did I get disciplined for such stupid shit. That’s a reason I didn’t respect my parents. This shouldn’t be a rule. Same as eating in the living room whole watching tv.

2:30 tomorrow.

Hold on hold onnnnnnnn the bathroom at OLL.

I make up narratives of being emotionally hurt.

So many fucking thoughts!!!!!!!!

Im making up a catholic school molestation story. Or am I.

That bathroom. That bathroom. Urinals without dividers. The tall skinny ones. Just like in the bathroom but 220. 220. Second floor, room 20. Playing football with Dominick and Kyle and one other boy. Kyle is dead now. Kyle C. Kathryn was friends with him. She posted about him. Angie. Leah senior year.

Your profile picture is you with another girl.

I changed it.

How excellent. Walking with Jessica on 4th of July. Dr. A gave a speech. We stepped forward for How excellent. Why was I involved? I don’t know. I wanted to be. They taught me the song. I sang alto I think. My voice was free. Did anything hurt? I don’t remember it did. I didn’t need Ricola. Or did I. My voice got sore junior year. Not sophomore year. I could sing big. I should’ve always gotten to sing big.

I’m going into a tunnel with my practicing. I need to work on something different.

I’m squeezing my neck like crazy.

The church at OLL.

SW from church really really wants me involved in her prayer organization. I am not a believer. It’s BS. That speaker was so BS.

I need to text W.

The church has blue carpet. “Jesus died on the cross, you can stand for twenty minutes.” My legs hurt so much. I remember lighting candles but that happened in California, not here. When Aunt K got remarried. I found out much later her husband drank himself to death. They got divorced before that happened. He would drink rubbing alcohol. Steven went too fast lighting the candles. I was so mad. Don’t you know what you’re doing. But I had to stay in character. My dad has to go up and relight them. I was humiliated. I danced with Baby Anna. She didn’t recognize me after that. She was so cute. I was 10? She was probably three or four. I was so disappointed when she didn’t know me after that. We swam in our shorts. I got such a bad sunburn. My skin was peeling at the Aunt P ranch. We were reading H P. I’m still scarred from that sunburn. Left shoulder. The soda thing. They had their own automatic soda. That was so cool. Everyone else lived in the real world. Not us. We lived in church world where I wore clothes I hated. And we took family photos I hated.

I’m just born evil nothing happened to me I’ve just always been evil and bad.

I looked in the mirror in the same bathroom mirror the same bathroom mirror where I shaved my unibrow when I was mocked I still do or was I even mocked I was just afraid of being mocked why do I have a unibrow why am I the weird one how can anyone love me when I’m so weird

But it’s not the same mirror bc that ugly cupboard got replaced and the door was so broken and I shared it with S and A. Sharing is such a nightmare. This house is pretty small for three kids and two adults it was at capacity. I wonder if that’s why we fought so much.

I didn’t work on the book today again.

The book.

Not my book.

Not even his book.

The book.

Where’s the ownership dumdum dumbass

But even if it’s not the same mirror it’s the same thought. I looked in the mirror and I believe I even said out loud just now

Crazy that I don’t remember

But if I said it out loud my parents would’ve heard

Why don’t I want my parents to know anything

Did they know when Z said he would kill me if he could or he stole all my friends

I was talking about how Lindsay Lohan was naked in parent trap. She must not have known I said. That excited me so much. Being naked. She was naked. It’s bad but it turns me on so much. It’s not appropriate but I’m so into it.

Even T said my obsession with sex is abnormal. But she agreed with me saying that. Maybe she was just pushing me to do more thinking. Idk if others are telling the truth for sure. My moral compass is off. I always want or need an external standard. This is right. This is wrong. I’m bad. I’m a sinner. If I just be myself I do terrible things. I say I’m just in it for the sex. I say all these girls here like me.

He said what did we used to listen to? Jonsi?

Adele too I said

It’s so fucking weird that we message at all.

It’s weird FOR ME that we message

God I’m so far off topic

Did he really forget what we listened to? Are our moments tgt not seared into his brain like laser and fire? I remember everything. I remember his letter. I remember meeting him by the chapel. I remember sitting on the bench outside the music department and we sat for so long and I was thinking this is weird I should leave but he just kept talking and then it was bc he liked me. I’m sure I still have that first letter in my box of heartbreak which is actually an oversized envelope. I remember seeing him from down the hall and feeling so happy. Am. I really gay? And that happiness was real. And maybe I was his gf and that’s why it didn’t feel gay

If I was abused how come I can have sex without being triggered

After a lifetime of being obsessed with sex how come it doesn’t feel good

I never lose myself in it

It just doesn’t feel that good. Masturbating feels better. Did I not have the right partner

I see little me in a dress

Instead I was in stupid fucking clothes I hated

I wore white socks at St. Luke’s with black pants. My mom told me dont. I didn’t want to listen. Then she was right. She was self satisfied afterwards. “yyyyyyyyyyEP.” Why tf were we even at St. Luke’s. S and A lived behind St. Luke’s. They were so cool. BC was there. I talked about having written an opera. He must’ve been like wtf. I saw him at undergrad at a concert. M said to me who was that guy you were talking to and said he was sexy or something. He was. I wasn’t into him though.

Oh my fucking god I’m so off topic AND I want to get this whole thought out.

S and A were so cool. I can talk to A bc I don’t have sexual interest in him. It was a long time before I knew he was trans. I was trying to put so much stuff together. They were both so fucking cool. S isn’t that cool now to me. And it’s hard for me to talk to her calmly. She had meds. I’m sure she has problems like I have. Maybe that’s why our relationship became weird. Weirdly close but not close and I was always yearning for more like I did with B. But I knew I couldn’t !!!!! That was so fucked up. My legs twitched. I wanted to be her.

Hating boy dress clothes. I always have.

Wanting to be an older woman.

But I’m totally cis.

What am I

I looked in the mirror now like I always did in high school and said I think out loud WHO ARE YOU in an emphatic tone of voice. My face and voice were serious. My eyes were wide. My mouth was set. WHO ARE YOU didn’t mean what’s wrong with you in this case.

Katy is commenting to me again it’s the most interaction we’ve had in years why am I not giving more energy back why am I being aloof maybe bc she out distance there and I’m trying to keep myself safe or I’m hurt or I’m just consumed with other things or I just don’t feel close to her. Her not talking to me hurt a lot. Stop distracting from topic!!!!!!!!!!! T hurt a lot. Then T sent that heart emoji to my post today after “stay well”

Alright

Idk what that means and W sees it so simply and straightforward and I just don’t.

That’s not who she was

I’m obsessed with WAS

WHO ARE YOU meant which of these many different versions of yourself that you experience and present is the real one? How can there be so many?????

I did outpatient at the hospital near sams house and Sam dated Irene and Irene announced her engagement today and both of Irenes parents are dead and we haven’t spoken in decades but were still connected online.

I wish I was walking in snow like when I was hurting over D and I walked so far and my mom called me like what the fuck you’re going to get attacked and I said I used to walk the streets of New York much later than this

Sam dated K and he was never the same after that. I was there with Gabi and Kari and we made deep fried lovin and it was amazing and we loved it and Sam and I could never recapture that although we tried a few times. He always said “what do you want to do” and I didn’t know and neither of us had an idea. I went to so many weird ass coffee meets and hangouts in those first few years after high school. A had a pool party or something. When was the slip n slide party. We had all those AGT parties and tried to recreate or simply create the social life and friends over we should’ve had in high school and I believe my mom was extremely happy bc that’s what she had always wanted, to be the party house, like all the kids coming to play at her house when she was a kid. But how could anyone like coming here with the way she acted. We actually were a party house in elementary school. There’s that day when we all played in the rain and I was wearing red sweatpants. There’s the picture where I wanted the attention and I stood in front of the whole group sideways catching snowflakes on my tongue. We played smear the queer in the frosty grass. The athletic boys were the coolest. K’s older brother Dylan was called superstar on the soccer field. We played so many games at OLL. Do you remember tether ball. Words look weird rn what are letters even. Wall ball and black magic and double black magic and triple black magic and quadruple black magic and four square and kickball and soccer and basketball god we were so competitive it was amazing and so fun

Kickball on the asphalt we always had scraped knees who approved that who let us play like that. Brandon fell and left his teeth in the asphalt or at least that was my image of it. Zero the Hero. One hundreds day. Turbo math. Writing books. Everyone else knew things I didn’t. Star Wars. Everyone knew things I didn’t.

We couldn’t be the party house in middle school. She wasn’t safe. I wanted to die. I deserved to die bc I was so disobedient.

Who was I? The no friends middle school. Won’t let myself poop disgusting fart everyone smelled it too scared to pee off the stairs I had to get approval to go to the outhouse too scared to spray the wasp nest taking down the pole and failing and smashing my hand and it had that big scab and I washed it with hand sanitizer bf that was all I had and maybe that’s what caused my blood clot but it happened so many weeks later how did it happen so much later. I was so into J in college junior year and then she told me the story about fucking that other guy when they were drunk. She even Skyped me. She loved that one guy and then he picked someone else and it ruined everything and I was always starving and eating my cereal too fast but I didn’t want to spend money buying more I only went to Cub like once we rode the bus and took so many pictures and I looked so happy in that moment. And R was there. Before he assaulted me. I didn’t want to touch his dick the memory of touching his dick is literally making me shake rn I need to stop it was so hard and small he was everywhere on campus he did whatever he wanted he was loud everyone loved him stop thinking about him!!!!!!!!!!!

My neck and arms are so tense rn what is wrong with me why did I have so many social problems putting my backpack in those cubbies when we went to eat I was so scared it would be stolen I took it with me I was the only one it was so stupid I was such an envarrassing person I’ve been so controlled in my life by embarrassment only the Asian kids ran they didn’t care what anyone thought of them we laughed at them that was so typical mocking any difference. I read the books of school history trying to understand the values and I finally did I didn’t fit in!!!!!!!!!!!!! But I have R and E and C.

The protests are dying down. We’re at the limit of change. It’ll take another death to rile this back up. That’s disgusting but I think it’s true. Things were done in Portland at about 9:30.

I feel sick. I feel legitimately sick.

I feel so sick and my ears are ringing great!!!!!!!!!!! And I saw T and her boyfriend and thought about how I want sex and I’m not fuckable. Which maybe I am. Maybe that’s my essential self. Unfuckable and insecure and anxious and scared of being different and scared of being judged and bc of this always already different and trying to be different so I stand out as a star but not wanting to stand out at the same time. Do I even like singing or like music or do I just want to be famous. I have been so confident that I would be famous. I’m so confident in my ideas. I’m so smart. No one can be more right than me. My co fife to self is despicable.

Maybe I loved being fifteen and being with M and being at A M F and two summers ago with O bc I wasn’t this disgusting insecure person but everyone liked me. I’ve been thinking that that person is my essential self. But maybe the whole thing is that thats NOT ME AT ALL. I’m not meant to be a star or be anyone I’m meant to be a worm and disappear and be nowhere and that’s why I do t have groups and that’s why no one liked me at undergrad and at the same time didn’t I keep myself out of groups on purpose so I would keep honoring high school? Like we keep honoring Leah. Just like I keep holding onto the pain of O to honor the relationship that we had and prove my real love for him. He’s moved on more than I could ever imagine moving on except that’s not true in the sense that I don’t know anything but I must be ABSOLUTELY clear with myself when I say that the reason it’s not true is because whatever I say is an assumption and I’m working on not making assumptions about other people at this point in my life bc I need to act on what people say bc I’m not at all a mind reader. And, I hope that he is thinking of me. But I’m playing with myself. He’s fine if he was here then he would be here. He might be in another state he might be in a whole other relationship.

Don’t fake yourself out. He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s not coming back.

He’s moved on.

He’s moved on.

He’s moved on.

He had at least one other relationship.

He might not be single now.

He’s moved on.

He’s not coming back.

I need to finish this. I avoid the real point. Why does my brain do that. And I want to write down every thought. Why so many digressions

Okay then

I’m typing with my eyes closed sometimes which is something I used to do in high school while I was typing late into the night exactly like I am right now. S always lay facedown on his bed which I thought was fucking weird bc I only lay facedown to masturbate.

He did that in the day time

I kissed so many objects after reading the Star Wars novelization

We played Nanosaur at catholic school and public school.

The computers were in the portable

I never got to play as much as I wanted to

The computers were in the library and I played type to learn. I was watching Star Trek tng with my dad on a summer night and it enthralled me I couldn’t tell when special effects were bad at that age. We had to leave I had indoor soccer with Kirill’s dad and he was a star in the Soviet Union he said but who knows and I went to his house one time to play video games and it was a small apartment and I was so surprised. The preps took him in instantly but why not me WHAT WAS WRONG WITH ME WHY IS MY GRIUP THE PPL WHO ARE WEIRD SS FUCK

We funked in the halls people laughed at how I didn’t know how to move myself or in anyway be in my body and I couldn’t let go why couldn’t I let go people who let go looked so cool Sam was our mascot at that high school duhduhduh day I didn’t know what tf I was doing there why was I in ASB it just seemed like the thing to do we tied I was relieved when I lost I missed the midnight going into the secret places in the school thing fuck my life I missed so many things I wanted

GOD DAMN JT

There were younger boys who went to pee in our one and only bathroom and they took their pants all the way down to their ankles and the older boys came in and made fun of them while they were still right there and I heard it and made sure not to be like the kindergarten boys so I wouldn’t be made fun of. I think I peed like that before that day. It didn’t matter??? Smooth white butts. There was one brown person in the class named Tharik. Maybe not but we were so white.

Is there anything else to remember about that moment?

Sinks where you pushed the bar at the feet to turn on the water

I’ve been to so many airport sinks and the urinals have no dividers

I always prayed no one else would be in the bathroom why was I so scared to pee beside someone I would be seen why didn’t I want to be seen? Other times I was dying to be seen. How did my desires change so much

Why was I obsessed with sex. I had fantasies of Hoth of magic school bus I was naked in so many. I didn’t want the doctor to examine my penis. I said can my mom do it instead and tell you. No he said but she can sit in the room. Okay he said. I was so scared. Why was I so scared. Why didn’t I handle it normally. Why I’m gods name would I want my mom to see my dick. What the fuck was wrong with me.

Is there ever a time I look back on myself and think wow that was a good decision I’m proud of that. No! I have happy moments like being the only freshman in honor choir or playing the zither or whatever it’s called with A

Am I more evolved than I was then

I choose not to act or do anything bc at least that way I can’t make any mistakes and not acting is also a mistake I can’t bear to do what I did in the past and then somehow I do it before I realize I’m doing it

Why was I obsessed with sex

I read about luke and Leia kissing in that movelization and I kissed so many things around the house trying to capture the description from the boom of how her lips felt. There were choose your own adventure books and i always imagined myself in them and unmade so many self insert fantasies where all the characters were still there. the boys were my friends and the girls were my lovers. I think OLL was where I read junior Jedi knights. We used to go to the library so much the old one and I read through so much Star Wars and Star Trek science fiction. I was never attracted to the boys. I never judged the stories I just enjoyed the imagination. And I read Ancient Greek mhths. I’m a fucking nerd and nothing nobody who got thrust into the center stage and suddenly I had some popularity and then I had that personality push and pull. Always being criticized. A criticized me and W criticized me after my recital like right after and A took down the program in Eugene and Ö tore me apart so many times including after the MC. Anneke was so fucking attractive.

God

I never should have had attention. I liked so much stupid nerd stuff. But I was cool in elementary school. I feel like wherever I am I try to make the stuff I like cool and bring people to me. I can’t fit into them. Music is a great way to do that bc everyone loves music.

I have always had false ideas of who I am but when I’m depressed I can be realistic. That’s why it’s good for me to be depressed. I’m a sinner and no good and deserve it. I deserve to feel bad. It’s penance. I deserve it.

That’s not what I should feel and that’s not what my brain feels but I write down stuff like that bc that’s what my heart is saying. Those could even be in quotes. That’s being said by a different me inside me if that makes any sense.

I’m so privileged. What do people think when they see me. Do I not have more followers and more story views bc I’m a fucking loser and that’s what people see? But I liked myself. I liked what I saw. I liked it. But it wasn’t or isn’t good enough for other people. My opinions grate. My opinions drive people away. Why do I always have such strong opinions.

I never do anything part way

I started masurbating so early. How did I find it

Don’t message back fast. They’re very inconsistent. You’re hoping for much more than they will ever give. You give what you look to receive. You don’t give what people deserve. You don’t give based on the real quality of your relationship but by what you want it to be or you give without regard for yourself and only regard for pleasing the other. A. W. O. D.

No boundaries. Too many boundaries. Inappropriate feelings. I do so much to avoid inappropriate feelings.

What’s inappropriate

Wrong

You should have sexual feelings for that person

You shouldn’t like people that much older or that much younger. I never knew him when he wasn’t an adult I stg

I can’t remember any sexual feelings at all in third grade. I remember so many times when I thought wby dont I like anyone. I remember like forcing myself to like K in fifth grade. I end up dating or whatever people I’m not attracted to. I see someone in them that isn’t the real them and then I expect them to act like that person

I guess I tried to change O. I’m the bad one

Idk if that’s true that I tried to change him.

But I definitely might say x is a good decision in my opinion. Stuff like that.

Am I asexual? The question doesn’t stop coming back to me.

Can I remember anything. I don’t fucking know.

I played with my penis from a time when I was very young.

W feels natural for me but wrong. That’s not who I am.

K doesn’t feel natural these days most of the time and idk why. Is she just a costume :( I don’t want her to be but maybe she is. I have to face all my inner voices. Avoiding them has hurt me a lot.

I don’t see people for who they are. For who they are inside I see them. Nope. That’s my projection. Who I think they could be which is another way of saying who I want them to be. Stupid stupid stupid.

Zuko

Rubbing my dick on my bed felt good. Rubbing it on blankets felt better. Pulling down my pants and then pulling down my underwear. Better and better and better. I didn’t think to masturbate with my hand for years. I went through so much shampoo. I came in so many showers. Once I was scared I would get my sister pregnant bc I came in the tub. I came in my grandparents’ bathrooms. Both of them. My dads dad doesn’t hardly seem like part of the family.

Why don’t i remember more?

Because there’s nothing else to remember.

Each experience is a different me. How will I ever know who the me me is. So many different selves. So many masks. A different person around every single person. Only O and D knew the full me. Not A or W. They were my sex friends and we were in a relationship. Sex was what I wanted. I turned into their emotional support doll. They didn’t support me. I don’t tell W things. She isn’t on my sinsta. I haven’t told her about it. She would be hurt that I didn’t. And that I wouldn’t add her. Don’t give people things they can’t handle. She doesn’t use my girl name. I wonder if O knows I changed my name online. It doesn’t matter. He’s not part of it.

She doesn’t understand a lot. A doesn’t understand a lot. There are these lines right. They’re not like me. But we have sex. Sex is so important to me bc they’re sex friends. But then I get sucked in emotionally. Same with O. We were sex friends that got emotional.

I never had sex that satisfied me.

There’s a gap of why sex why me. Etc. Why secret. I’ve always been a secret whore like lots of white girls.

I’m obsessed with symmetry too. I’m not normal. I hate seeing S’s name in my text suggestions or whatever they’re called. predictive text.

I’ve always been obsessed with symmetry. Idk where that came from. I can’t stand asymmetry in my body which ofc we all have bc nothing is perfect in nature in a mathematical sense.

Left right right left

Up left down right down left up right

I do that pattern constantly. Teeth tongue mouth eyes feet

I’ve done that since forever. Why

Idk

Nothing comes from nothing but that doesn’t mean it came from severe sexual trauma either

I’m trying to find trauma just find sexual thoughts in the past instead

Like my dad giving me that one shirt sex talk and how uncomfortable it was and how I thought about balls or how sex was always trash and we had to go to bed when our parents were watching a movie did they ever make out there was no physicality in their relationship ever. She has her couch my dad has his chair

I don’t want to be physical with them I do with everyone else maybe I’m the abuser maybe I was born that way I kissed everyone they didn’t want it maybe Mrs. H was right to punish me that way. I feel like my sexual interest started before kindergarten

Masturbatimg has always been fantasy time. Sometimes memory time. Sometimes creating fantasy memories. Sometimes living out things I read. Erotica really is the superior porn

I masturbated like crazy, and, I didn’t know any sexual terms. Bisexual is when the woman is older than the man LMAO

I think already in first grade or so I didn’t tell my parents about school. I didn’t want to. Everyone knew who we were. Big ass silver van. We always were the last to leave anything. Always talking like crazy. Public was our only freedom even though it was our fake selves. I kicked the rock into Mrs. G’s ankle. My mom shouted at me. We were just playing. AND I know that I knew I was being risky. We ran laps around the school. It was always hard for me. Running. I always hated it. I couldn’t push myself. That Mikaela or Michaela or however she spelled her name was ahead of me on the sidewalk. She was faster than me. We ran laps under the covered area. That was where we were allowed to play during rain time. I told Jesse she was dat and she said that’s a black mark on my soul and a sin. H E L L H E double L H E double hockey sticks

I peed my pants and somehow Mrs. H knew

[sporadic-writer]

Like Nobody’s Watching

Sebastian Stan x Reader

Warnings: swearing that’s mainly it

Summary: in a city of millions, someone is always watching you be yourself (that sounds creepy, sorry I can’t think of a better phrasing)

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

It's classic NYC gridlock. Luckily, it was Thursday evening so it wasn't horrible. Plus, you and your friend driving have some of your favorite songs BLASTING with the windows down so it wasn’t too bad. It was one of the first pleasantly warm nights of the year and of course you had the windows and sunroof open. In New York, a million people pass by and see a million things a day, but pay no mind. It’s the perfect place to act like nobody is watching because in the end no one is really watching. Besides, no one pays much mind to two girls singing screaming along to the AUX. 

The traffic wasn’t horrible. It was very slow moving, but luckily wasn’t too long. Some passed by and were entertained, or sang a long a little bit. Plus, your turn was a few blocks away and seemed to be where the slow down stops. Wanting to break the bored feeling growing in your mind, you decided to unbuckle and stand up out the sunroof. The song continued on with the traffic and you continued to throw your arms out and feel the breeze. It was a perfect night and you looked around at the beautiful city around you.

The song got quiet as it changed and you looked down to your friend in the driver’s seat. “Ah to be a twenty-something in the Big Apple. It’s perfect.” The next song began and your friend cranked it. She looked up to you and you smirked. “Sing it bitch! AM I MORE THAN YOU BARGAINED FOR YET? I’VE BEEN DYING TO TELL YOU ANYTHING YOU WANNA HEAR! CAUSE THAT’S JUST WHO I AM THIS WEEK!” Some people crossing the street laughed at the both of you.

"Y/N some old couple crossing the street didn’t appreciate our show very much. They glared and shook their heads hahah!” She continued to bop along while you smiled and leaned on the roof of the car. A breeze went by again and you smiled at the warm weather.

“Screw em! If they can’t enjoy a free concert that’s on them. Now let’s fucking go, the next chorus is coming. Drop a heart, break a name. We’re always sleeping in, sleeping for the wrong team! WE’RE GOIN’ DOWN, DOWN IN AN EARLIER ROUND. AND SUGAR WE’RE GOING DOWN SWINGING!” You stopped and let her take the rest of it. At the street corner you heard some girls singing as well, just as loud. When you turned to the area of them, smiling, they danced a little and you went along with them. After they kept walking you felt a tap on your leg.

As you looked down, Y/F/N, looked up at you and turned the music down a little. “They aren’t the only ones amused by our antics. That cute guy behind them in the blue hoodie as been watching and laughing since we started.” She pointed back at that direction and you smirked as your gaze followed. Upon realizing who she meant, you froze. 

As you dropped into your seat she looked at you as if you were nuts. “Do you know who that guy is? That is Sebastian Stan. Oh God how could I not notice one of my favorite actors watching me make an ass out of myself. Fate is cruel.”

“Oh come on. He seems cool.” She turned to him and waved. She waved as if it was the most casual thing in the world. And he waved back! “See he wouldn’t wave if he knew you were a freak.”

“I’m gonna ignore how you said ‘knew’ and not ‘thought’ in regards to me being a freak. Still oh dear Lord why. Stop laughing I’m humiliated!” Soon The Anthem by Good Charlotte began and the volume was back up. Both of you sang along again and next thing you knew the car moved closer to your street. 

“It’s not like we were actually screaming. We are just being loud and a tad obnoxious. So a normal Thursday night for us. Seriously relax.” You looked back into the crowd of people walking on the streets. Pretty sure you saw him up ahead, you long forgotten, and you calmed a bit. As the music played the car drove in front of your place.

Walking in, you plopped on the couch and opened your finsta. Then you typed up a post. “Ignore the smiles in this pic. Im ded. Sorry to @(his insta name idk off the top of my head) for witnessing that little concert of me and @friend in the streets of New York. Refunds for the show and therapy can be provided.” Laughing a little you hit post.

“Me my ass. That show was all you. Cute pic though! But come on Y/N he didn’t care. He’s a celeb he has probs seen much weirder. The fact that we even saw someone famous in the first place is cool alone.” You nodded in agreement. Wanting to forget it, you grabbed some nerds turned on Sunny in Philadelphia.

After about 3 episodes in, Y/F/N went to pee so you paused the show and grabbed your phone. What you saw seemed too unbelievable. You called out her name.

“What now?” You shoved your phone in her hands. “What am I looking at? All I see are you instagram notifications.”

“Bitch look closer!” You pointed to the DM notification. “HE messaged me! I’m done.”

“Are you serious? Well let’s open this bad boy. Don’t fight it. Stop! Ok ok. It says, agh fine here take it.” You snatched your phone back and read the message.

Him: No need to apologize. I quite liked it actually. Not everyday you see someone being free like that these days.

You just sat there, soaking everything in. “Why aren’t you replying! Don’t be rude and leave him on read.” You rolled your eyes and typed something up.

You: well to be fair i didnt think anyone was actually watching... my real self isnt quite THAT dorky.. im still sorry you witnessed it

“Happy? I replied.” Almost instantly your phone lit up in his reply. “Damn boy.”

Him: I wouldn’t say dorky. More like cute. Although it was clear you thought no one was genuinely watching lol

“Holy shit. He’s flirting. I repeat he is flirting with ME! At least I think he is.. Is this flirting? This has to be a prank.” You tossed your phone to your friend. Sunny long forgotten on the TV. “Wait what are you saying? Don’t reply yet!”

“Relax. I made it sound like you. Well you but with some balls.” The phone got tossed and you caught it smoothly.

“How did he get in my DMs anyway? My finsta isn’t public. Oh wait never mind he found my real one some how. Oof what is going on right now?”

You: i find it hard to believe an attractive celeb is flirting with me lol how do ik its really you? this seems too good to be true

Him: Doesn’t seem like I’m the only one flirting here. But to be fair this is my personal account. And it’s not everyday I DM a girl I see singing Fall Out Boy out of a car sunroof downtown NYC. How about we meet up Friday evening? Let me prove it’s me.

“Oh my goodness. Y/N got a date with a celebrity! I’m jealous.” You got another message.

Him: Too forward? Or do I just sound creepy?

You: no not at all. and sure why the hell not!

You: wait that may sound rude! I would love to meet up haha this way i can ensure this isnt a prank or learn not to trust social media if it is

Him: You have little trust in the world darling! But awesome, meet me at 7 at the corner you put on your lovely show. Near the Roselight Cafe and Howard’s Personal Fitness. 

You: ha so thats how you stay in such good shape! But alright that works for me

Him: No no that is all me. But you’re witty, I like that. See you then ;)

“Holy shit you have a date with a movie star.” You both sat with wide eyes in slight shock. 

You let out an ironic chuckle. “I have a date with a movie star.” You looked to her and laughed in disbelief some more. “All because I acted like a moron out of your car sunroof.”

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

Hope you enjoyed! Like, reblog, and comment my dudes!

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 2 (Cont.)

Meanwhile...

A certain someone is having some flashbacks.

You’re going to see a lot of water symbolism around Kanade when Tsubasa is thinking about her. Feel free to use your imagination for that one.

“fuck yeah!”

“im so FUCKING MAD”

Hibiki’s B-Friend squad, known lovingly as the Anime Janai squad, ask Hibiki if she wants to go eat somewhere, which is the equivalent of asking a dog to play fetch. This is always guaranteed for a yes.

Unfortunately, she wants to look Responsible in front of her girlfriend. So she turns it down, with all the pain and gritted teeth anyone can muster in the most adorable fashion.

This is their running joke, and their aptitude for this is frightening. My theory is that they are passively the Gods of this world, and are perfectly aware that this is a work of fiction, but continue to live their lives gleefully to await the action that unfolds.

“i know bikki said no cause she luvs me and wants to be responsible but i wont lie i really wanted pancakes today”

More than you’ll ever know.

“you comin or what, we got pancakes ready, not that ill let you eat them. cause i ate them. all of em.”

“right i forgot- your opinion means jack diddly to me.”

And so she is arrested. Again. Sorta needlessly this time. I am pretty sure Tsubasa really just likes whipping out those handcuffs. Those things are like, comically huge. And that big buzzing noise is just funny.

“the test results are in! and you ARE the protagonist! whoops!”

“hey we’re gonna be relevant later right? i read the contract and we dont really get any lines until like next season and”

“speak another fucking word and i will rip your tongue out manually with my nails because i SWEAR to god i didnt do acting school for 15 years to blow this shot because of your bitching for fucks sa-”

They tell her aside from the first shock she’s fine but Hibiki ain’t having it. She wants to know why metal parts spring out of her like a bad Michael Bay movie.

“sit back. this is gonna be a long one.”

The show begins explaining the relics owned by each relic user, which so far have been two.

Sorry, my subs are broken. Tsubasa’s is Ame-no-Habakiri. Kanade’s, which is now Hibiki’s is Gungir. Relics are ancient technology from ancient times with ancient power capable of... ancient things. They use music and singing to activate. That’s all you really need to know. The relics are usually refined into amulets such as what Tsubasa wears, and they’re usually fragments of the original thing.

“all those years of karaoke are finally paying off”

Tsubasa points out, though, that using them isn’t as simple as singing a song and calling it a day.

You have to work hard to use them due to the nature of compatibility.

Hibiki asks the million dollar question. “I don’t have a relic, though.”

Naturally, she’s wrong. Back when Kanade accidentally impaled Hibiki, it left pieces of her relic embedded inside of her. This has been sitting there for years, and shockingly enough, no other doctor has noticed this and Hibiki has never felt any discomfort about this.

Tsubasa puts two and two together. Take a good look; this is the emotional equivalent of witnessing someone split an atom under a microscope.

The atom is officially split.

This is the face of someone who witnessed her girlfriend die to save a random person in her hands as she turned to dust, only to meet the survivor several years later and learn that she now owns the very thing that had her life saved in the first place, coming back to haunt her.

Naturally it’s not Hibiki’s fault but Tsubasa... let’s just say she could use a round of therapy or two. Or ten.

“i need to get her a pony.”

Hibiki, desperately wanting to cut the middleman of this needless growing angst between her and her girlfriend, keeps asking if she can tell someone about this. Literally just one person. They could probably just make whoever she wants to tell sign an NDA too, right?

“no”

Genjuro pulls the superhero secret identity motive. Others knowing means your friends and family may be at risk, since being a Symphogear is Serious Business.

“this is gonna suck”

Sam Reimi’s Spiderman strikes again.

Hibiki is successfully recruited into the 2nd Division ranks as a Symphogear, much to Tsubasa’s chagrin.

Sadbasa.

“cant believe she’s my teammate now to boot”

Hibiki tries to be nice and offers a friendly handshake, but unfortunately she hasn’t leveled their bonds enough to make it happen. Coincidentally, crisis strikes. It’s the Noise. It’s always the Noise.

Hibiki feels like joining Tsubasa, feeling as though she has a lot to prove. All of this has happened in the last 5-8 minutes.

“shes got guts, ill give her that”

An asskicking brews in the middle of the road. Tsubasa, naturally, fights like a pro. Hibiki... gets a good kick in.

It only pisses her off more. Tsubasa knows that Hibiki is using the gear wrong. There’s a fucking spear built into that thing, she thinks. You don’t need to fight hand-to-hand combat. What idiot would punch these things? I mean, I kick, but my kicks have swords on them. It’s not the same, damnit. It’s not the same!

Hibiki is a strange and special case. She has 0 idea she’s stepping into the shoes of someone else (or rather, a weak idea; she knows it belonged to someone else but she never genuinely met them), and she has no combat prowess and sorta fumbles everywhere. Tsubasa gets angrier because she’s projecting her own insecurities into Hibiki, because she thinks that Hibiki is trying to replace Kanade, when Hibiki is just trying to save lives, period. This is ironically what Kanade was inspired to do back when she was alive.

It’s one big case of emotional telephone that everyone is losing.

“fighting crime is fun!”

“MOOOOROOOOOOON”

Tsubasa fails her aspect of the trust fall, and thus Hibiki hurtles down to her doom unwittingly.

Solos the giant monster, like a True Gamer would.

Blows everything up, as stated in her contract. The explosions remind her of Kanade’s hair, you see. Big, red, and wild.

“did i do a good job? huh, tsubasa? did you see that kick? ive never kicked like that before! hey tsubasa! did i do good? was that good, tsubasa? this is my first time so i really dont know what im doing but i think that was good!”

“im not really good at stuff right now but i promise to improve and do better since i have literally only known combat for a few seconds, tops”

“...”

“you absolute motherfucker. first you show up to the concert me and my girlfriend hosted. your dumb ass doesn’t even LEAVE THE DAMN CONCERT HALL like everyone else did. it just stood and stared like an absolute moron, and my GIRLFRIEND had to SAVE YOUR DUMB ASS because your LACK OF BRAIN CELLS couldnt make your LEGS RUN. and she DIED FOR THAT. and now you not only come to the school I’M IN, to STALK ME for ANSWERS on WHAT THE FUCK HAPPENED instead of MOVING ON WITH YOUR LIFE, you also WEAR MY DEAD GIRLFRIEND’S SUPERHERO OUTFIT, immediately MOVE IN TO GET IN HER POSITION, try to WORK WITH ME without knowing JACK SHIT about combat, and act as a GENERAL NUISIANCE SINCE DAY FUCKING ONE.”

“im going to fucking murder you.”

“hey wait okay maybe i did some mistakes but murder is not conducive to teamwork here okay lets just chill a moment and-”

It was at that moment that Tachibana Hibiki knew, she was in deep shit.

[rhythmic-idealist]

A short while ago, when I was loudly narrating a barrage of “everything that’s making me upset right now,” @commanderfraya​ posed the question (paraphrased, here, from something like three separate questions in a set of about six) “what is the path I can set myself on that is going to be the thing that clears my Soul Gem, instead of just hypothetically caring about so much that I put out and work for an abstract idea of good and shrivel up into a Grief Seed?”

(@commanderfraya, I do not expect you to read this through. I do not expect ANYONE to read this through. It’s tagged to you as a thank-you, and a very, very heartfelt one.)

With that in mind, I’m thinking out loud about the life plan, and because I’m really, really excited about what I’m coming up with you all can come along with me.

(The place where this started, when I wrote that sentence, is not where it ended up. I want to reread this, connect all the little dots I’m missing or refusing to, and get that excited again.)

Cons of studying music therapy:

have to contend with potentially ableist professors and readings

with certainty, have to contend with some ableist professional relationships

the culture around studying music therapy (at least in my school, which was very “we’ll know if you’re one of us,” and there were other things too) is what burned me out so hard last time

I don’t want to be a classical music performer, and I have to study classical music performance

Pros of studying music therapy:

get to be a music therapist. The fact that this makes me as absolutely giddy as it does is conclusive proof imo that this is actually what I want to do, but wait, if that’s not proof enough that I love and feed off of music therapy as a passion, there’s more:

get the credibility to run a music therapy student podcast. I would be SO EXCITED about this guys, you cannot believe, I started sitting here and planning it out and then went “wait. shit. I have ZERO credibility.” (that’s why this post is happening.) and if I do the podcast NOW, the inevitable question of my involvement with music therapy will come up, and then the inevitable question of why I left after a semester, and I’m not prepared to answer that publicly yet. but listen. discussions with various disability advocates, or just friends, or professors, about recent papers published. interviews with local music therapists. interviews with musicians, too, and psychologists, and social workers, child development professionals, people who manage NICUs, and so on and so on. but I’m REALLY excited about 1) interviews with music therapists and 2) chances to broadcast, to the music therapy community at large, my take on current research.

I will have accommodations and a diagnosis on file. saying “I know I have some trouble with communication, and won’t know it’s an assignment unless you tell me ‘this is an assignment, and this is the due date,’ and that’s why I don’t have the thing you expected me to have this week” should really be enough, but I’ve learned from experience that if you say “I’m diagnosed with autism and-” people will IMMEDIATELY go “oh, so you need-” and repeat back what I just said.

The big, looming spectre over all of this:

things I can’t publish on Tumblr. There’s a possibility I will tangle very scarily with the administration of the school I studied at. There’s a possibility that doing this will impact my future career, at other schools.

So the pros win, genuinely, because I think all of the cons can be solved. The answer to the first two is “I love advocating for myself and others, and will be damn loud about it” and “I will have accommodations and a diagnosis on file.” 

The answer to the third is I will just have to pull through and make it my own education and my own take on everything anyway and that’ll be enough, and because I will have accommodations and I will be good at what I do, I will have the grades to get through and the quality of work for a letter of rec and that is all that matters, 

The answer to the fourth is that I’m growing more disciplined in classical practice, and this summer is my test run for that. It’s proving doable and rewarding. I love how my bass sounds on Bach chorales.

THE PLAN, then, and this is the part that’s just really good:

Finish my AA in music. I’m going into my second semester of that, and will, after it, have two more before I have a degree in music (with a focus on classical performance) and will transfer.

One major, major complaint was “in the meantime people are still being deported and homeless and suicidal and every other fucking thing I care about and I’m really going to be, with all that going on, with the time I could spend dedicated to fixing these problems, with the knowledge I could have been a social worker by next year if I started down that path already - I’m going to turn away from at least some opportunities to volunteer and to take to the streets to be a musician?”

So when I turn 21, I’m going to become a CASA volunteer.

This requires me to be really, really reliable and take a child’s life and future into my hands. The fortunate thing is that I know for a fact I can do this. I am putting in pointed and concerted effort to become a reliable person. It is hard work, and I am going to be able to keep doing it.

I have a job offer, part-time, for the preschool social-emotional-development-through-music program with which I’m currently interning.

Everything, literally everything, takes a backseat to:

the CASA job.

the college work - AA-central coursework first, and optionally ASL, because my mother is hard of hearing and losing her hearing progressively and it is that important.

the part-time job.

This is going to be fulfilling because protesting, other volunteerism, and political work is still going to be happening but in the backseat position it has been in, but the difference is that I will be doing a world of concrete good in my work and as a CASA volunteer. (The rest is what I’ve scrolled back up to add, because yeah, I cut this short.)

So then what? Then I study music therapy, which means I’ve moved away from home. What happens then?

The music therapy podcast. I organize it by myself, because I want to, though I frequently invite other students to collaborate on episodes.

Or I organize it with a friend, if I find a friend like Amy again. Not saying "Amy who” here for anonymity, but she has been my best friend for a long, long time.

Work. How am I working? Is music freelancing enough? Do I want to take a break before my transfer, and if so, how to I spend it meaningfully? Do I want to take a different route after all, study social work, spend TEN years doing that before I come back to music therapy? That could be good. I could love that. I would miss the music therapy podcast, and have to not think of social work as a transitional phase, to be committed to it, but there’s a balance between understanding that life can involve multiple careers and being committed to the current one.

It’s a job I would love, and a way I would love myself for the next ten years.

Every, every single thing I say is pointing me toward social work. It really, really is, and I could do it. The only thing I would regret is change. That’s - the feeling that I’m giving something up now, that I’ll never know what would have happened if I kept following the path I’m on.

Maybe I don’t need to know. Maybe I need not to, that’s why people change paths, ever, that’s why I’m not doing a million other paths that I’ll also never know because I’m not considering them. I just need to decide if the next ten years of music therapy are a loss.

The next fourteen years - four years for college. It’s a lot of college! I’m going to be doing that much anyway.

I’m.... not sure they are. I think that sticking to music therapy just because I’m here - that feels like a loss. I don’t think it gets me anything.

I think all roads lead to social work.

I think I could love the person I am as a social worker, be a good one, and I love kids, and I love human beings in general, I would be so, so happy, I swear to God.

It’s maybe the first time I’ve made a choice my mom will vehemently disagree with as the right one for me, in a way I will care about, and will feel as almost a strict mandate that it has to be another way, in my life.

I’m 20. That has to happen eventually.

I want to be a social worker. My throat is tight and my stomach is sick but it’s what I want to do, and those feelings are the anxiety I get and need to address eventually about being wrong about anything, about having been wrong and changing it, about the idea that I just need to act like I knew things already, all the time, or that I did, and I’m stupid for not doing them, and I’m conforming to expectations, and then I get sad about it instead of fixing it.

It’s an anxiety about having been wrong. I can’t twist this to assuage it.

So I just gotta not. And do it anyway.

Good thing I have therapy tomorrow.

There’s an unplanned digression from the plan. I’ve separated it out.

If I evaluate my position as a student once I turn 21, and I genuinely know I cannot commit the time to be a CASA volunteer responsibly, will my life still be fulfilling without it?

Yes. Working on it, but I think that the preschool program is that important.

Then again, I’m doing the preschool program right now (albeit unpaid), and right now is when I had the crisis of feeling like I’m not giving enough to the things that I actually care about, that I am shirking good I could and genuinely want to be doing, and would feel better for doing. 

(I feel- trapped, genuinely, when I am choosing or feel like I am choosing not to help something that I should care, and do care, enough to help- like why have I trapped myself in this position, there are lots of people who care more about being musicians than about being activists and I am not one of them, so why am I pretending to be, why when I both genuinely, viscerally hate the feeling of not helping and also other people hurt for the lack of me helping, there’s no good coming from this choice for even me emotionally and I am making it only because- what, it might do good for someone else, it’s a narrative I want to fill? that’s the conflict, and I’m getting off track/backtracking us a lot, but I should have filled you in on that earlier)

To the less Madoka-literate of you, and only those who don’t mind spoilers: this is where I take a brief digression to talk about the Soul Gem and Grief Seed metaphor. Soul Gems give you your power, and allow you to do good in the world, but you are required to do some things that are arguably selfish - the good you are doing has to be motivated by healing yourself, in that way that Phoebe Buffay hates, and we learn (in watching my favorite character try to refuse this) that this does NOT negate a good deed, and no amount of martyrdom or pushing yourself aside makes the deed itself any better - to keep your Soul Gem cleansed. 

If it goes for too long without being cleansed - if you try to do a lot of good, and refuse to take the rewards of it, or you expend too much energy doing the kind of good that comes without things that are rewarding for you - you turn into a Grief Seed. This is bad.

So that’s what I need to work out. Is this going to be good enough, if all I am doing is music and the part-time job.

When I am paid for the part-time job, I think it will feel better, and I will feel more comfortable making some of the grander, more permanent contributions to the curriculum that I’ve danced around for right now because I didn’t want to give away everything I want to do and then have my boss own it. She and I talked about rights today; I retain rights to activities and lesson plans that I create, even if she keeps using them when we part ways, and it won’t be interpreted as me stealing her program.

The PLAN, again.

My time is prioritized to school, teaching/work, and CASA.

I finish my AA in music performance.

I transfer to study music therapy.

I keep working part time, hopefully, while studying music therapy.

Fuck. That means I need to study at the college I left. I don’t know yet if that will be an option, once the thing I can’t publish here has gone down.

I should tell my boss I don’t know if I can make more than a one-and-a-half year commitment as a paid employee, because I might be leaving. Music therapy is an extremely uncommon major, and if I do not take it at exactly the school at which I took it, I will need to travel very far away.

Fuck.

Fuck indeed.

Okay. [Long, heavy sigh]. Okay.

I don’t want to get an undergraduate in music performance.

I don’t. I don’t it would burn me out that would be a thing that would turn me into a Grief Seed. I would hate it so much and I would feel useless and I do not enjoy putting myself on a stage for classical performance because I do not feel good about it, or like I am good enough at it, and I’m not interested in fixing that enough for another two years of school.

If I’m going to switch majors I need to do that now. I am not prepared to switch majors for a semester, change my mind, and come back to music. I don’t want to walk myself into a hole where it feels like the major I switch to is one I’m trapped to. I’ve done that to myself almost already.

If I switch majors, the likely candidates are:

Social Work.

_

Really social work’s the one. But, for argument’s sake:

Child Development.

Jazz. More on that below.

“More on that below:”

Or I could just stop. I could just stop, and study jazz, and work for the preschool program, and bring in money as a freelance musician for a while. I could just fucking stop and live for several years while doing this, and see if the finances are good enough that I can pour my soul into politics and activism and all the work I want to be doing. I’m okay with studying jazz without being in school. I’m good enough to be a freelance musician now, and with that and a part time job at the preschool I can sustain myself. Musician jobs, when you look in the right places, pay well. I would have time.

I don’t like that I know I’m ignoring something.

Thoughts right now, that aren’t as nice as they seemed when I started this post. I’ve worked some things out, so I refuse to say we’re back at square one. In fact, we’re not. I’m scrolling back up, editing, and making more lists.

[artificialqueens]

Flying Low Chapter 11 (Group Fic) - Jem

AN: so this one is kind of long, and it’s a different style and pace than usual but it felt right. Thank you for the feedback, I honestly live for it and it encourages me to write more.

Summary: Alaska does her best to navigate everything now that she’s home.

Chapter 11

It only took a week for Alaska to drive Jinkx crazy.

It also only took her a week and a half to kick Jinkx out. It had been what was right for both of them in the end, and Alaska was glad they’d been separated before they’d really fought and said things they’d both regret.

Her new cellphone buzzed by the minute. Sometimes it was Courtney, or Adore, or Michelle, all wanting to know how she was doing. She’d sent all of her friends back to their respective homes as soon as she’d arrived in LA, but they still checked in on her constantly. Alaska wanted to throw the device away, if she was being honest, but Jinkx had told her if she missed their daily phone call she’d send the cops to Alaska’s apartment.

“Did you go to therapy?” Jinkx had asked her today.

“Yes.”

“I swear to God Alaska if you’re lying to me.”

“I went, I promise.” She wasn’t lying. She’d been going once a week and she wasn’t sure if it helping really, but she knew she had to go if she was ever going to be allowed to tour again.

“And when I see you on Friday you’re not going to be thinner than the last time will you?”

“No, mom.” Alaska had assured her. That’s why it hadn’t worked out. As much as Alaska loved Jinkx, and as much as the other queen wanted to help, she became an overbearing weight on Alaska’s shoulders when she was living there. Alaska needed support, but she also needed at least an hour to be independent without someone assuming if she was going to off herself.

So they’d come to some kind of compromise. Jinkx called her once a day to make sure she was awake (alive) and they got together on Fridays in the afternoon for a couple of hours. It was still a lot, but even she had to admit that there was the ever-looming possibility that she was not ok all alone.

The apartment was suffocating sometimes, but she couldn’t bring herself to leave it except to go to her therapist’s office. And she was lonely, not that she’d ever admit it to Jinkx. She’d gone from being constantly surrounded by her friends to isolated with her own thoughts 24/7.

Brenda, that was her therapist’s name, suggested that she organize a schedule to hang out with people other than Jinkx, but Alaska was tired of schedules. Maybe it was bad that her life had barely any structure, but most days she couldn’t even get out of bed, let alone go through a routine. Brenda suggested a lot of things to which Alaska didn’t pay much attention. Group therapy was a solid no, as was telling her family. The woman had even had the audacity to suggest yoga. Ok, maybe Alaska was a bit hard on her. She meant well, there was just no way Alaska was going to go to a class full of suburban moms in leggings to do downward dog.

Her doctor had switched up her meds, but they only made her feel groggy. She knew her depression and anxiety had plummeted since the trauma but how were pills going to erase what had happened? Michelle asked her if she was ready to go to the authorities and Alaska hung up on her. Not her brightest moment upon reflection.

So things were still kind of shitty, but maybe they were moderately better? She missed working so she started sewing garments she’d probably never get a chance to wear. Everything was so quiet all the time. She wished she had a cat or something to keep her company without bothering her but also knew she’d forget to feed it. Hell, she couldn’t even feed herself more than pre-packaged meals and protein boosts. At least she was eating at all.

Then it was late one night, and she was feeling vulnerable and all she wanted was a fucking drink so she did what she knew was wrong and selfish and called Sharon.

“Alaska?” She answered right away even though it was 4am for her. Alaska wasn’t sure she would, because once she’d told Sharon to go home, her ex hadn’t even called once. Alaska didn’t know if she was sad or grateful about that.

“Will you come visit me?” She asked and she hated that she sounded desperate.

“Of course, I’m-” Alaska could hear her shuffling around. She was definitely in bed then. She probably didn’t want to wake up Chad. “I’m in Pittsburgh, but I can be there tomorrow.”

She almost protested, almost said that she didn’t have to rush and that she was fine. But she was tired and delusional and something in her didn’t care if Sharon had to leave her life behind at such short notice.

“Ok.” She said instead.

——-

Sharon arrived in the late afternoon the next day. She’d gotten the quickest flight she could manage from Pittsburgh. By then, Alaska was level-headed again, and it wasn’t that she regretted it, but she felt really fucking guilty.

Sharon told her she’d dropped her things off at a hotel nearby. That hurt Alaska’s heart a little bit, but it was for the best that she wasn’t going to be staying overnight with her. She opened her arms to hug her, letting Alaska come to her and she couldn’t help but find herself apologizing over and over in her arms.

“I’m sorry I called you, I’m sorry I made you come here.” She whispered, but Sharon didn’t let go.

“It’s fine, Lask. I told you, I’m here for you.” Sharon gently grasped the back of her neck, rubbing it gently and comfortingly. “I wasn’t lying.”

“How long can you stay?” Alaska dared to ask.

“As long as you need, as long as you want.”

Didn’t Sharon know that those were two very different things?

Alaska let her into the apartment properly, putting away Sharon’s beat-up leather jacket as she took off her shoes. She realized that in all the years she’d been living here, Sharon had barely even been by once. Since they’d broken up they really only saw each other professionally, despite the media label of “boyfriends to best friends��. Still, after all that time Sharon knew her better than anyone.

Sharon looked around, and Alaska found herself embarrassed of the mess. When they’d been together they were both messy with their drag, but the dirty dishes, clothes, and garbage told a little too much of what Alaska had been up to the past few weeks. Hint: not much.

“Is Jinkx here?” Sharon asked instead of addressing the chaos. She moved to sit on the living room couch, lifting up an old blanket and moving it over so Alaska would have room to join her.

“Oh, I guess I didn’t tell you. She moved back home.”

“Oh.” Sharon’s voice betrayed her concern. “Did something happen?”

“Nothing major. We fought all the time. I was a brat, like usual, and she was always there, always telling me to do something, and I couldn’t handle it. I love her, but it was a lot.”

Sharon just nodded, and Alaska couldn’t tell if she was upset with her for kicking Jinkx out.

“How are you doing?” Sharon asked and Alaska opened her mouth to answer before she was interrupted. “And not some bullshit about how you’re actually a lot better and you’re ready to tour again.”

“I’m ok.” Alaska said, and Sharon’s eyebrows furrowed skeptically. “And sometimes I’m not. I mostly feel numb a lot, because of my meds, I think. I know I’m not better, not enough to be working, but I feel really useless and really lonely here.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, I’m really glad you’re here.” Was there an awkwardness between them again? Alaska didn’t want that. She tried to assure herself that nothing had changed. So what, Sharon was engaged? It didn’t mean anything. She was still happy to help Alaska, right?

“Have you eaten lunch?” Sharon changed the conversation.

Alaska shook her head. She’d been feeling too nervous about Sharon coming over to stomach anything.

“Can I order something in here?”

They decided to get Japanese food and it was the first proper meal Alaska had eaten in awhile. She flipped on the tv and put on the Golden Girls, choosing episodes at random. Sharon laughed at her fondly and exclaimed that she hadn’t changed a bit. They settled in on the couch, and the awkwardness melted away.

Sharon indulged her just like she had when they were together, pretending to enjoy watching four old ladies making fools of themselves. Alaska spoke almost every line out loud; she knew them all by heart. They stayed like that for hours, and eventually Alaska found herself drifting off to sleep in Sharon’s lap. The TV continued to drone on, but it just became background noise, and Alaska was just so comfortable. She tried to stay awake, but Sharon told her it was fine, and gently stroked her hair.

When she woke up a few hours later, she was in her own bed, tucked under the covers, and Sharon was gone.

——–

Sharon was there the next morning, and the one after that. Soon enough, a few days turned into a week, into two, four, six.

Alaska never asked when the wedding was going to be, because she was afraid of the answer she’d get. She just relished in their time together trying not to think about how it had an expiry date.

They went to concerts and movies and took long trips to the grocery store, all the things they usually never had time for with shows and tours and albums consuming their lives.

Brenda told her she should be careful about her dependence on Sharon. Eventually she’d have to leave, go back to Pittsburgh and her fiancé.

“Do you think you’re going to be ok when that happens?” She’d asked Alaska.

Alaska quit seeing her after that.

Brenda wasn’t the only one who was worried about Sharon’s influence on her life. Jinkx had warned her against it on their weekly lunch date, and she’d told Michelle, who’d been quick to call in with her opinion. But Alaska was feeling the best she had in months, or even years, and it was no coincidence that her change in mood had to do with Sharon’s arrival in LA.

Their friendship wasn’t like when they’d been together. First of all they weren’t both fucked up on drugs and alcohol. There wasn’t the jealousy, the lying, the fighting that had filled their romantic relationship with turmoil. It was equal this time too; they were both successful in their own ways and neither of them had to give anything up for the other. Sharon knew Alaska better than anyone, and maybe that’s the main reason it worked. She was lonely and depressed, and she needed someone who’d support her, listen to her, but not coddle her. Someone who wasn’t so attached that she wouldn’t give her freedom but knew her well enough to read the signs and provide what she needed.

And maybe she missed the kissing and the sex a little–scratch that–a lot, and was reminded of it every second that Sharon was around, but it was better than being without her. They were friends, and that was enough. Sharon still left every night to go back to her hotel. She was probably paying a fortune for it, but Alaska knew better than to ask her to just stay over. She understood why Sharon had to draw that line.

“Michelle wants to go back on tour.” Sharon told her one evening as if she’d been dreading speaking. They’d been having fun all day doing some thrifting but Sharon always got serious at night.

Alaska took a moment to understand the tone of voice. She didn’t sound happy, shouldn’t she be happy? She finally got it. “Without me, you mean.”

Sharon nodded.

“I wanted you to know before it was all over the Internet.”

That hardly would have been a problem. Alaska had logged out of all her social media for fear of what people might be saying about her sudden drop off the face of the earth. It hurt a little bit that Michelle hadn’t told her herself but after the way Alaska had been treating her in their phone calls, she couldn’t really blame her.

“It makes sense.” Alaska said gently. And it did. The other girls had probably recovered just fine and it didn’t make sense for the entire world to stop turning just because poor old Alaska was still fucked up.

“Are you ok?” Sharon asked. Alaska was sure she’d know if she lied and said she was fine.

“Are you going to go?” She just questioned her instead. Sharon didn’t falter at the question and kept her gaze steady.

“I told her no, not until you’re back.”

Alaska’s heart swelled but she felt a little guilty. This was getting into dangerous territory. She knew she should ask why Sharon was putting her entire life on hold just for her, the messed up ex boyfriend, when she had millions of fans to perform for, music to write, a fiancé to marry. Why would she run from that?

Once again she kept her mouth shut. Was it bad that she hoped Sharon needed Alaska as badly as Alaska needed her?

———-

Sharon was with Alaska when Chad called. It wasn’t the best moment to answer, perhaps; Alaska had been in bed all day severely depressed and panicky and only recently calmed down. She’d been so much better but the flashbacks still hit her from time to time and all Sharon could do was listen and comfort her. However, she had been missing Chad’s calls all week and it was starting to weigh on her conscience. She excused herself to take the call in the kitchen, knowing that being around Alaska would be a bad idea.

“When are you gonna come home?” He asked, and he didn’t sound mad but his voice was distant.

“I don’t know.”

“I can’t do this Sharon.”

They were words that Sharon had secretly been wanting to hear but that didn’t mean it hurt any less.

“I can do it when you’re away on tour, and you talk to me every day and I know I’m still the only one you’re thinking about.”

“That’s not fair Chad, I….” Sharon paused, leaning in the kitchen counter and letting the cold of the granite seep into her palm. “She needs me.”

“I know that, and I get that. But you can’t pretend your heart isn’t invested.”

Sharon didn’t think it was worth fighting. Maybe she didn’t even want to fight it. Chad wasn’t wrong, she cared a lot about Alaska, and it wasn’t something she could just control. “I’m not cheating on you, if that’s what you think.”

“Aren’t you, though?” Chad said a little bitterly, but he mostly sounded tired. “I doesn’t matter if you’re not fucking him, Aaron. You’re supposed to be here with me, but you’re not, you’re with him in LA and that’s not much different.”

“I love you.” That was all she could manage to say. She didn’t have an excuse, only those three words that were still true but held very little weight.

“You love him more.”

“I’m sorry.” And she was. Sharon was sorry that she’d been treating him like shit, running away without a proper conversation. She just wasn’t in it anymore, and he was right, her heart was somewhere else. She couldn’t regret the time she’d been spending with Alaska, but she could feel guilty about treating Chad unfairly.

“It’s ok… Well, it fucking sucks, but I’ll be ok.”

This was going to be a lot harder on him that it was on her. Chad’s voice was shaky as they said their goodbyes, and Sharon realized it sounded like he’d been crying before picking up the phone. But God, or Satan, or whoever was there controlling the universe, she just felt like a weight had been released from her chest. She supposed that was a sign that it had been destined to happen. Such an imbalance of happiness could never have lasted.

——–

Sharon went back to Alaska’s bedroom after the call. Her head was spinning with emotions, but the tension she’d been holding in her jaw and her neck for weeks had relaxed.

The younger queen immediately asked her what was wrong because of her strange demeanour.

“We broke up.” She said bluntly, but not sadly.

“Fuck Sharon, I’m sorry.” Alaska cursed. “It’s not because…?”

“It’s not your fault; it was mine. It was a long time coming, I just didn’t want to see it.” Sharon sighed and chuckled bitterly at herself. “I’ve been here for weeks and I haven’t once wanted to go back.”

“Where are you gonna go?”

“I don’t know.”

Silence fell over them, and Sharon bit her lip. When she looked up, Alaska was looking at her through her lashes. Even without fake ones, they were long and pretty.

“You could stay here.” She suggested, and it was a heavy statement. Sharon neither accepted or declined but instead came to sit next to Alaska on her bed. Would it be wrong to kiss her only minutes after breaking off her engagement? Yes, probably, maybe? The voice of reason in her head was getting quieter.

Alaska leaned in Sharon’s direction until she could feel her breathing against her cheek. “In fact, you should stay here.” She whispered into Sharon’s ear, and she really didn’t think she was strong enough to resist. Despite being sweaty, with unwashed hair and yesterday’s clothes. Alaska was kind of fucking beautiful. Her blue eyes were hooded with desire as they met Sharon’s, and her full lips formed into a pout.

Fuck. The electric current in the sliver of a gap between their faces was multiplying by the second.

Sharon finally closed the space between their lips, gripping onto the sides of Alaska’s face gently. Maybe they were going fast, but somehow it was like they had been together again for weeks. No, they hadn’t been intimate, but Sharon wasn’t foolish enough to think she didn’t know Alaska intimately because of the time they’d been spending together.

The younger queen was wearing mint Chapstick, and it was so familiar to Sharon that it brought her back. She remembered that her lips would crack and bleed without it, and it seemed that hadn’t changed. Sharon nipped at Alaska’s bottom lip, which was quivering gently against her mouth. She let out a whimper, obviously wanting to be closer still.

The brunette’s hands wandered to her shirt, slowly pushing it up her torso and pulling it over her head. Alaska’s hips ground into Sharon’s and she could tell she was hard even though they were both wearing jeans.

“Are you sure?” Sharon asked between kisses. “Because I need you to be sure.”

“I am.”

“You have to tell me what you need.” She couldn’t be taking advantage of Alaska when she was weak. She needed to know that she wasn’t gonna wake up in the morning and regret it.

“I need you.”

Sharon took it slow, which was something they never used to do. Though the sex had always been good, it had so often been angry and hard and fast. They knew each other’s bodies so well but now they had to learn all over again. She tried to be careful, testing every step and every touch with utmost care. She reached for the bottom of Alaska’s shirt, tugging on it gently but the other queen grabbed her hands to stop her.

“I’m sorry.” She apologized. “Can we leave it on?”

“Of course.” Sharon said without malice. “Thank you for telling me.”

They continued in that routine. Sharon would go slow, and Alaska would tell her what she could and couldn’t do. Maybe it added an awkwardness to something that should be natural, but the reality was that the trauma Alaska had endured was anything but natural. They just had to work around it, and and Sharon learned the Operation Board of where to touch and where to avoid on Alaska’s body. (Forehead, Mouth, Stomach: Good. Chest, Wrists, Throat: Bad). Neither of them could afford to get shocked. Soon enough, Sharon was on her knees with her lips around Alaska’s cock and they were both moaning. The skinny queen had her head thrown back, completely overwhelmed by Sharon’s mouth bobbing up and down her length. Sharon could feel her surrender against her, and there was something about knowing that Alaska trusted her enough to give up control that only made Sharon ache for her more. She unravelled screaming Sharon’s name, and it was familiar and right.

After Alaska came she pulled Sharon up to kiss her, hard, and trailed her fingers down her chest. They switched positions, and Sharon found the back of her knees pressed up against the bed where Alaska had just been moments ago. The younger queen began to place kisses down her bare torso until she reached the waistband of her jeans. Then she froze.

There were many things she couldn’t do anymore that she used to when they were together. Alaska had asked not to have her hands restrained, and they’d both decided penetrative sex would be too much tonight. Even still, Sharon could see her getting frustrated with herself. Her hands were shaking as she fumbled with Sharon’s belt, betraying her anxiety.

“Baby, baby stop.” She grabbed both of Alaska’s hands and pulled her to her feet from her kneeling position. She looked her right in the eye. “We don’t need to, it’s ok.”

“But you did it for me and I want to be able to do it for you.” Alaska was almost in tears, her whole body quivering.

“Woah there, woah there, I think it’s time to stop.” She wrapped the taller queen in her arms, pulling her face into the crook of her shoulder.

“Fuck… I’m sorry Shar.” Alaska choked.

“No need to apologize. We’ll get there. Or if we don’t, that’s ok too.”

“I want to make you feel good too.”

“You do make me feel good.” Sharon reassured her, placing a kiss on Alaska’s soft brown curls. “We have all the time in the world to figure out what works.”

Sharon pulled her over to the bed, tossing her down gently onto the duvet. She stood up quickly, and Alaska whimpered as they lost contact.

“One sec,” Sharon reassured her. She shuffled around the room until she found what she’d been looking for: a huge, fluffy navy-blue blanket. She brought it over to the bed, wrapping it around Alaska’s shoulders.

“You don’t want to sleep in jeans, do you?” She asked the younger queen, who looked tiny, engulfed in the large throw.

Alaska drowsily kicked off her pants so she was just in boxer briefs and a t-shirt. Sharon took off her own jeans too but didn’t bother with a shirt. She snuggled in underneath the covers with Alaska, reaching out her arms before stopping and saying, “can I hold you?”. Alaska nodded and huddled into Sharon’s side.

The puzzle clicked.

[ecotone99]

[RF] A Ruined Day for an Early Hiker

I’m guessing no one ever really reads this, one or two cops probably read it as evidence, maybe if someone finds this before my body. Well if you’re unlucky enough to be reading this I have some bad news, there’s a body floating somewhere in the lake.

I guess the best place to start would be who I am, then later I can explain why and how I got here. In 1994 two people in their early 20’s met at a Real Mccoy concert, they smoked some pot and talked about space aliens, Bryan was of the belief that space aliens not only existed, but had visited our planet Earth on numerous occasions, Amanda was of the belief that space aliens didn’t really matter, and that she’d rather ponder over the mysteries in Bryan’s pants.

They made love under the stars, which is a very strange thing to do if you believe in space aliens, especially if you believe those aliens often research our planet with very strong telescopes, which of course, Bryan believed. Afterwards Amanda lit a cigarette and told Bryan that while she liked him a lot, she would have to skip town soon, she was a novelist on an adventure, and this little town in Texas was not where the universe was calling her. Amanda had always been a believer that the universe had a plan for each of us, which in retrospect made it particularly strange that she didn’t believe in space aliens.

Bryan was of course saddened by the fact that this beautiful girl would be leaving soon, but he knew he was in no position to adventure with her, he’d just landed a new job at a company that built airplanes, and he’d been taking classes at the local university. Bryan’s life was in that little Texas town, and he was ready to settle down, he’d leave the adventuring for another day.

I am not Bryan, and if you’re reading this before you find my body you should know I’m not Amanda either, while I do have her eyes and nose, there’s a rather distinct difference in what we have between our legs, presumably I got that from Bryan.

I’ve never been a huge fan of overly suspenseful non fiction, so I’ll just tell you now, Amanda’s book was brilliant, Bryan became a spaceship engineer, and they never met again. Oh and they managed to create a fucking monster.

My mother died when I was 15, which I found rather depressing, she’d finished her novel a few months before and was in the process of publishing, when a routine trip to the doctor’s ended badly. You’ve heard that story before, to sum it up quickly, there was a whole lot of crying, surgery, and chemo. After she died the publishing company sent me a very nice gift basket and a letter apologizing but mentioning that they would not be publishing my mother’s book, she was too unknown to publish post-mortem.

Before she passed away my mother gave me an address, my father, she told me, lived in a small town in Texas, he built airplanes, liked the real Mccoy, but thought their album Space Invaders was a bit derivative, and spent most nights looking for space invaders of his own. I threw the address away of course, I hadn’t needed this man yet, and he clearly had better things to do than raise me. Unfortunately some social workers got a hold on the address and had different plans. A week after my mother’s funeral I was on a bus from Kentucky to Texas.

In my defense, I had just gone through a very traumatic event, found out my father didn’t know I existed, and met twin babies that were my new half brothers, it was a stressful time, but I treated the last of my family like shit for the next three years. I should’ve helped with the babies, I should’ve gotten a job, or at the very least helped around the house, instead I spent every day getting high and doing nothing important.

I ruined their marriage, my dad claimed it wasn’t my fault, and of course they both played their parts but I have a feeling it’s a lot easier to raise somebody else’s bastard if he isn’t selling pot to the neighbor’s kids. After the divorce my dad and I moved into a small apartment, he saw the twins most weekends, but I never really found much of a point in it.

I graduated highschool and had good enough grades to get into a small university an hour from my father’s apartment. On the last day I spent in that apartment we shared a 6 pack and my dad told me the story of how he met my mother, it was short enough to include in my suicide note. We both apologized, I forgave him, it wasn’t his fault my mother never told him I existed, and he’d stayed by my side while I destroyed his life.

“Where to next?” I asked him right before we went to bed.

“I guess maybe it’s my turn for an adventure.” We saw each other a few times after that.

College was fine for me, I followed in my father’s footsteps and went into the sciences, I spent five years in that place and managed to walk out with a degree in Computer Science. I had friends there, met girls, and finally did a little more with myself than just smoking weed. My fifth and final year at university was when I started to see the signs.

It started like radio static, like voices were talking very far away and while the noise was carried to me, the words were lost on the journey. I ignored it for a while, nothing more than stress and partying too much.I went to the doctor after the first time I made out a full sentence; “Rape that girl, make her bleed.”

A minor case of paranoid schizophrenia, Thiothixene, one pill a day, and weekly therapy, that’s what they told me it would cost to get the voices to shut up. It worked for another year, and I managed to graduate and get a job validating software, a job anyone could do just fine after a lobotomy.

I didn’t make many friends after college, I spent two years at the same job and went out with my coworkers only a handful of times. There was one girl at work I was obsessed with, Jolene, a gorgeous woman only a year my senior. Jolene worked in our accounting department, she was smart, funny, and cute. Oh and I’m using the past tense because her body is wrapped in a blanket in the trunk of my car.

I didn’t mean to kill her, neither did the voices, at least I don’t think they did, but Jolene stumbled upon my secret and she wanted to leave and she was going to leave and tell everyone and the voices said if I didn’t stop her she would tell them and she wanted to leave so I took the bottle in my hand and I wasn’t thinking but I hit her with the bottle but I hit her too hard.

I didn’t want to hurt her.

She kept breathing for a while, I watched her chest rise and fall for a few minutes, but she was leaking. Blood dripped from her head and her blond hair slowly stained crimson as it clumped together.

I wanted to call an ambulance, I wanted to save her, but they told me not to, they said if we did we’d be locked up tortured there, hurt, raped, beat, killed for what we did.

I tried to reason with them, “But if she lives they can’t be that mad at me, they’ll help they won’t hurt me!”

Then there was a booming laughter drowning in the static of my brain, the volume turned as high as it could go. The voice screamed to me, cackling all the while, “No one will care about this girl, but for what’s on your computer they’ll kill you.”

What is on my computer was put there by someone else, someone using my hands to press the keys, but another person all together. I wasn’t the one making the decision and I didn’t even know it was there until tonight, honest. Well some of it I knew about, the adults, that was the secret she found out, the reason I hit her, but the other stuff I swear was news to me.

I know it was all wrong. I knew it all along, but I guess I just thought no one would really be hurt, it was just for me. But Jolene had been hurt, she was terrified when she saw herself on my computer, fully nude and bent in a submissive position, an intimate photo taken by a lover long ago and still backed up to his Google account. She asked me how I’d gotten it and I lied, told her he’d sent it to me unprompted and for no reason. Of course she didn’t believe me, maybe if I’d been a better liar she’d still be breathing.

And that’s when the radio static demanded I “Stop her! Before she sees everyone else!” Then there was an argument, a bottle, a leaky head, and a slow rhythmic breathing fading away.

I stole her nudes, and others, and set up hidden cameras, it was wrong but I couldn’t stop myself, but this, this was so much worse, but it wasn’t me, the voices did it, not me. Now some poor girl lay dead in my trunk because of them, all because of the voices that never shut up. The voices weren’t content ruining my life alone, they had to drag everyone else down with me. I am the outlet, I cause all of this suffering.

I am proof God either doesn’t exist, or is the world’s biggest asshole, a real loving God would have killed me the day I was born. My mother would’ve finished her book years earlier, she’d die happy as a published author, my father would be happily married, Jolene would walk into work tomorrow, and the twins, the things the voices made me do to them. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

They’re screaming at me even now. They want me to stop, to make myself throw up. “Cut up the body, hide it here. Run! Escape!” They won’t stop yelling things like this to me, it makes me think they’ll die with me.The thought of them dying is all that keeps me moving now. I’m nearly paralyzed with fear but I’ll keep going I can still bring some good to the world, if only by stopping my own evil.

I’m sorry, I’m scared, I don’t want to die, but I’ll die for you, for the good of all of you.

I finished the bottle of Thiothixene and washed it down with some bourbon, nice stuff from Kentucky, from home, from a time before the voices, before I was afraid, before I was a monster.

I’m leaving the notebook here on the dock, thank you for reading this. If there’s a God in heaven I’ll tell him off for all of you. For now I think I’ll go float into the lake for one last swim. The stars are beautiful tonight, I’ll look out towards them and watch for space aliens.

Goodnight.

I’m so sorry.

Dante

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