#that our bodies relax in the presence of a truly masculine man

[somedreamlove]

I think it’s time to refocus on positive, mature masculinity, and remember how wonderful the good qualities of men can be. Masculinity in its evolved form is safe, trustworthy, solid and supportive. It’s like a warm bear hug, in which your nervous system relaxes and you can let go. A mature masculine man is so, so safe. Evolved masculinity respects you because it respects itself, and is clear with its intentions. It’s emotionally stable; it’s clear and direct in its communication. It’s so much respect. Good masculinity exists if you look for it and hold out for it. Believe in the goodness of men.

[witchersmistress]

Monster part 8

Happy Monday my darlings!!! ive updated, rainstorms and hate sex and even created another syverson story, but we havent feed the monster yet.. so shall we then??

Trigger warnings: irritation at yours truly, oral sex, male recieving. violence.

word count: 2.6K

my usual warnings, you do not have permission to copy my work in any shape way or form, if you do ill find you and haunt you for the rest of your days

Your POV

The sound of feet rapping on the wooden floorboards pulls me from my state of peaceful oblivion. For a few moments, I bask in the serene haze of waking from a restful state. And I realize that even my subconscious trusts him—August Walker. I no longer have nightmares. I no longer hear the sounds of metal screeching. I cracked one eye open, wrestling with my mind's intent to stay asleep a while longer. Yet, the weight over my waist and the heavy calf hooked over my feet causes both eyes to widen on the polished wooden panels opposite me. He’s still in bed with me. He slept.

Through the night... Closing my eyes, I breathe him in, the earthy, rich scent of masculinity with lingering hints of cologne. I love the way he smells. Not like a boy. Like a man. Staring at the back of my eyes, I recall last night like a mirage of flashing images:  the massage, his kisses. Touch. “I love you.” Behind the door to our right, the footsteps continued, heavy steady ones followed another set of heavy ones. Blinking my eyes open, I adjust to the ambient yellow hue that the sun has gifted us this morning. The hour seems late.

 I roll over in his arms, but they tighten immediately, making it hard for me to maneuver. Within the cage of large, warm muscles, I manage to get around to face him. His breath fans down my face, heavy and warm, with tones of his port cigars. He hums. As he fights against the world trying to wake him up, his brows weave, creating a slight ridge between them. His long dark lashes fan below his eyes. Why do some men have the most spectacular eyelashes?

I lift my hand to his chiseled jawline, mapping the dark bristles lightly peppered with grey. Beneath his warm skin, I see the pulse of his jaw as he clenches his teeth. Everything about this man is firm, serious. Even as he rests, he is a formidable presence. So, I lean forward and press my lips to his before licking the valley between, coaxing him to wake up and relax his jaw. I’m his... I belong. He growls in his chest, and I smile softly at the grumpy response. “You slept through the night . I’m so proud of you for not fighting it,” I tease. With a start, he jerks me onto my back, holding me captive beneath him. I lose my breath as his lips crash against mine in a punishing rhythm that sends blissful stars soaring around my body. My ballooning heart rests comfortably, warm and full, within my ribcage while my lungs strain below his heavyweight. It is a pleasurable sensation. Being so close to being crushed, but not close enough to hurt or suffocate. Enough to feel the epitome of secureness. I moan into our kiss as the length between his thighs presses into my hip so hard it could bruise me with the right pressure.

Rubbing his shaft on me, he groans. To experience this man, raw, feral, animalistic and without his practiced façade, fills me with warmth. I moan when his mouth attacks my chin and jaw, ravishing my skin. His hips begin to move in a sleepy way, chasing a sensation, an ebb to his erection, I am overcome with the desire to please him. Like he pleases me. "Are you under duress?" His lips smile at my neck. "Somewhat." “Can I please you?" He drops his forehead to mine, his breath a tumbling wave of heat. “Would you like to?” “Yes,” I whisper. Rolling onto his back, he pulls me with him, his blue gaze holding a dare, a warning. “I’m going to come in your pretty mouth then.”

 When he raises his hand and pushes two fingers through my lips, a small grin curves the corner of his mouth. He pushes them inside, down my tongue, to the back of my throat, where he pokes hard at the end. I gag a little, my throat closing around his penetration. He retracts his fingers. “ Sweet girl, do you want to suck my dick anyway? Gag around it? Would that make you happy?" I nod, worrying my bottom lip. I really want to make him feel all the intensity I do when he pleasures me, and I think I can do it. A wisp of a nod shows his approval, and with that, I crawl down his body. For the first time in two days, my stomach flutters with excitement and nervousness—my missing butterflies.

Stopping at the first protruding two-pack, I find it too lick-able to resist. I wanted to lick him weeks ago and, dammit, now I’m going to. If I lick him... does he belong to me? I lap my tongue out to roll it over the hard grooves shaping his abdominals. The slab of muscles tighten. As I get to his thick cock, it bobs. His fingers comb through my hair before he leans up to scoop the strands into his fist so he can hold the lot in a ponytail, offering him the view he so desires. Inhaling courage, I take him into my mouth, and he releases a deep, encouraging groan as I flick my tongue around. I peer up to see his blue gaze hooded, his jaw clenched. The breathtaking intensity in his eyes forces mine to close, and I concentrate on pleasing him, on pleasing my man. I’d like him to belong to me... 

A small amount of salty precum slides into my mouth, mingling with my saliva. I use it to further wet his shaft. Exploring the long, steely muscles with my tongue, I flick around the silken skin at the head to the piercings just below. I lap a line up the tight cord beneath before traveling further, tonguing the slit. He bucks slightly when I do that, so I do it again. And again. I feel his thighs tighten. The hand gripping my hair urges me deeper, reassuringly, not forcefully. "That's it. Let me slide down your throat. Relax." I try to take him in. The veins below his skin pulse under my attention. Halfway down the solid muscle, I hit the first piercings , gagging slightly. Sliding back up his erection, I immediately dive again, this time getting a tiny bit deeper. He hisses. “Good girl. You’re doing so well.” A moan leaves me with his praises. A rumble of my enjoyment reverberates around his cock, provoking his pelvis to thrust upward. After a few bobs of my head, I get a rhythm, sliding down with pressure and dragging my tongue along the lower knot of skin on the withdrawal, while his fist causes a sting on my scalp. Tears stream down my face. 

His groans become grunts. His muscles tighten, contort. “I’m going to come. You’re going to swallow every drop I give you. Then lick me clean... That’s it... Oh. Fuck. More...That's a good fucking girl.” He jerks my ponytail back and pushes me down, controlling my head in a brutal way that causes my throat to contract and whimpers to soar around his thick cock with the battering sensation. “Good... good girl.” Then he explodes in a violent rush, flooding my mouth with his cum, shaking and pulsing through the moment, never relinquishing his control over my head. I swallow, but it's thick and powerful shots of hot fluid. I love the indecency of it, the virility. The rawness. I love bringing him that kind of pleasure. I want to do it again.

He groans softly, his head dropping back on the pillow. My powerful man, sated by my mouth. Satisfaction and pride flitter through me as I lick his cock, wiping all the saliva and cum from it with my tongue. “Christ,” he mutters. “Your little lips fuck me up, sweet girl.” I rise and crawl up his body, settling down in the crook of his shoulder. Peering up at him, I find his eyes closed and his chest expanding and falling in deep movements. “Did I do good?” “Yes. Very good.” “Will you ever belong to me?” The question spills from my lips before I even think about it. His eyes snap open. “I mean...It doesn’t seem fair—” His brows draw in as he stares at the ceiling. “I belong to you.” A long, slow exhale leaves him, stoking the kindling under my heart, forcing it to ignite with frantic little beats.

 He gazes down at me through his lashes, a softness to the piercing blue rings. I let those words sink in, down to my chest, settling around my heart that expands just for him. Much more than anyone else. It’s a sweet offering and one a girl like me can accept. More than a crumb. Much more. “I heard feet before you woke up,” I say, gently. “And they definitely aren’t Hench— I mean Bolton’s.” “ feet?” “Yeah, like a bunch of men.” He sighs his displeasure, sliding me gently from his chest and rolling over, leaving me in the bed. Pulling the blankets up, I watch him stroll over to the closet, retrieve a pair of faded blue jeans and throw them on. They are slung low around his hips, directing my eyes to the sharp muscle-arrows at his lower abdomen, and God, they are sinful. 

They make me silly, make my butterflies manic. His torso is long and cut to the fine definition of a sculpture. “You’re so handsome.” I sigh dreamily. He sits on the edge of the bed, his eyes meeting mine, whirling with severity. “ The rest of my men are here, sweet girl. They must have found out I came out here and took it upon themselves to join me. Such is their nature.” When he presses his warm hand to my cheek, I rub into it, nuzzling, loving the gentle attentiveness. His voice drops when he says, “ Will you be okay with seeing them?” A little ache moves through my chest, but it’s not intense, just a meek reminder. I shake my head in his palm. “I’ll be fine," I say. " With a charming grin, he stands up, his hand dropping from my cheek, the warmth missing immediately, and any distance between us right now reminds me of loss. Then he disappears through the bedroom door. His absence brings waves of nervousness. Will he tell them who I am? Do they already know? 

Pulling myself up off bed, I made my way into the bathroom and turned on the shower letting the steam fill the room. Discarding my night clothes and climbing in. August never strays too far from my thoughts. He is a gorgeous man but a dangerous one.

August’s POV

I stroll out the door and hear the tell-tale signs of the shower going and I how I so desperately wanted to turn back around and join you. But my men needed me. Taking the stairs down I find Finn, bothering my cook Nicci. “Finn” I clipped . He raised his hands and backed away from her. “I know she is your girl but she is working.” Nicci elbowed him in the ribs. “Exactly I'm working now so piss off,” she sniped at him in her Australian accent. How an Aussie lass fell for an Irish fella I'll never understand “ Mr. Walker, how is she feeling this arvo?” I looked over at the blonde woman, “She is alright but probably something light for her to pick at, she's been through an awful lot.” she nodded and went on her way, not before snapping a tea towel at Finn when he tried to grab her ass. “Finn” I snapped again, this time he stopped. “Yes boss?” “Lets go over everything from that day and figure out what the fuck went wrong. He nodded and started pulling up camera feeds and the list of visitors that were on the grounds that day when Nicci’s soft voice caught me off guard “Hi Miss. Meade, how are you?” I looked up and saw you making your way into the kitchen, in a pair of leggings and one of my sweaters. You tucked a strand of wet hair behind your ears as your eyes darted around the room before landing on me.

 I simply extended a hand out to you and you came right over. Tucking you into my side, pressing a kiss to the top of your head before rubbing my hand down your side. Nicci came over with a spot of toast and some sliced fruit. She also placed a glass of orange juice and water in front of you, reaching for the OJ you took a few sips and set the glass back down. As you settled in to pick up some toast, you turned green and bolted out of my arms and into the bathroom. Darting after you, I held back your hair and  rubbed your back in small circles as you settled down “I thought the morning sickness would go away after losing them” stifling a sob. I picked you up and carried you bridal style back to our room “ Finn yelled “Call that prick Price and get him over here to look at her, i don't care what it takes” he nodded as i continued up the stairs. 

Tucking you into bed and grabbing my laptop to work, a hour had passed  as i went over the visitors logs for that day when Finn walked in “ As requested I got Price for you” standing up i walk over and say “Check her out and find out what is wrong with her” casting one last look at you I went with Finn and left you with the good Dr.

We’ve been going over CCTV footage and photographs for what felt like hours but i couldn't focus, it was maddening. Running a hand threw my hair, I pounded on the table in frustration. So many things went wrong that day but the loss was one I'm still reeling from. I never intended to fall in love with you the way that I did, even when I started stalking you over a year ago. Staring out the window at the backyard, I could have seen it now, you chasing our little ones through the garden, possibly a dog. You swollen with yet another one of my children, simply because I could not keep my hands off of you. Sitting on the porch watching the rain after the kids were tucked in for the night. That is indeed a life I never envisioned for myself but stalking you made it an actual possibility. 

A soft knock drew me from the recesses of my mind. “Hello poppet” Finn said, you were standing in the doorway, your face was red and splotchy, you tugged at the cable knit sweater, and then the sleeves. “ I’ll be back” my council was about to object but i shot them a look, without another word, i walked over to you and scooped you up and brought you to our bedroom. Placing you gently on the end of the bed, “Sweet girl what is wrong?” you continued to fiddle with the sleeves of the sweater, the dr was nowhere insight, you spoke so softly at first that i barely heard you, “What was that sweet girl?” you picked up your head and your eyes were brimming with tears “Im still pregnant”

[stories-poetry4all]

THE SLOWER YOU GO, THE MORE AROUSED SHE BECOMES:

The feminine is aroused by love not lust

Remember lust is fast, love is slow

Thus the slower you go, the more aroused the feminine becomes

The masculine’s arousal system is fast, external and visual thus he’s ready to go at the drop of a dime

Yet he must excercise patience in order to synchronize with the woman’s slower internal emotional arousal system

Thus a man that loves you will take his time with you, he prioritizes your pleasure which takes longer than his

He delays his orgasm/ejaculation for as long as possible to allow to you reach your peak multiple times first

He wants you completely satisfied, he’s not having sex with you to dump his traumas and stresses into you ,he’s not trying to simply satisfy his ego and use your body for his own gratification

He wants to truly awaken the kundalini shakti energy within you which is aroused by love mixed with sexual energy

His sex is actually healing and awakening the Divine Feminine within you with every stoke and touch

He prepares you for him by engaging in extensive foreplay, he doesn’t give you himself until your whole body is literally begging for it

He massages you slowly , kisses your entire body , gives you loving affirmations , and makes divine love to your Yoni with his tongue

He makes sure you are in your most relaxed state , free from all the worries and stresses of life before he slowly inserts his programming rod into your creation portal

The slower you go the more you feel, so he takes his time giving Divine slow strokes of orgasmic bliss so that you feel every inch of his love stick

He encourages you to breathe the sexual energy up your spine so that the orgasmic energy can travel to your crown chakra and connect you to The Most High

His only goal is to give you as much pleasure as possible so that you merge and become one with the cosmos itself

You can feel his selfless energy in every touch, kiss and stroke that he gives you

You can feel his complete presence penetrating you and the absense of any impatient intention

Your body will let go and surrender on all new levels which will take you to the void of pure Divine Love which fully charges your energetic chakra system completely

If a man doesn’t have time to make Divine Love to his woman , he doesn’t deserve to have her at that moment in his life

We take our time to really enjoy and appreciate the things we cherish

There’s nothing wrong with your yoni , it’s just full of traumas and stresses instead of love energy

Thus in order to heal your yoni you must give it the Divine Love it deserves and only engage in sexual activity with a man who actual loves you with his actions instead of just his words

YOU DESERVE TO BE FILLED UP WITH DIVINE LOVE!!!

YOU DESERVE TO HAVE YOUR PLEASURE PRIORITZED!!!

YOU DESERVE TO HAVE LOVE FILLED DNA HEALING SEX!!!

[spicymayo1983]

This is part 2. Things heat up between you and Poe as he stays with you until the repairs are finished on his X wing.

Poe's presence reveals some vulnerabilities in what you assumed was your perfect relationship with your sister.

You learn the painful truth of where your sister's true allegiance lies.

Warnings, unprotected p in v sex, oral sex, domination/daddy kink, angst, not for anyone under 18.

Chapter 2

Your heart was still fluttering a little when you met up with your little sister in the living room.

"He's beautiful, isn't he?" Ria immediately told you with a slight laugh, her cheeks tinted with a slight shade of pink.

"Everything about him is dreamy". You replied with a deep sigh, sounding like a lovestruck teenager. "Aren't we lucky? To have this gorgeous man fall out of the sky and into our lives".

Your thirsty words made your sister burst into laughter.

"You should listen to yourself". Ria teased, smiling a little. "You sound so horny, so desperate".

You didn't care for the tone in her voice. It was almost like she was taunting you in an unfriendly manner.

You were taken aback slightly by her tone and you didn't much care for it.

You were also exhausted and didn't feel like arguing with your little sister. You left the living room in a huff and went into your bedroom.

The next morning you were awakened by the familiar sounds and smells of a hearty breakfast being cooked.

Your guest was still fast asleep. You decided it would be the perfect time to take a quick shower.

You were still naked and drying yourself off with a nice, fluffy towel when the door suddenly swung open.

It was Poe. He was dressed only in his underwear.

"Shit, I'm sorry". Poe said with a slight laugh as he immediately diverted his eyes.

"No, it's okay". You replied with a hint of a smile as you quickly covered yourself up. "Don't worry about it".

Poe took a quick shower and then joined you and your sister downstairs for breakfast, dressed in a dark brown leather jacket that made him look even more handsome.

He was still banged up but feeling better. Poe had gotten a good night's sleep and it showed. The three of you discussed his plans for the day, first and foremost he was going to begin repairs on his X wing.

You were handy, and had volunteered to assist him.

The sexual tension between the two of you was obvious in the desert heat.

"You really know your way around an X wing". Poe told you with a slight smile as the two of you relaxed in the sand during a break. "I'm impressed".

"I've taken apart a few of them in my lifetime, I know my way around a tie fighter too". You explained with a laugh as you flopped down on your back in the sand on a large blanket.

"My father shared all of his knowledge with us, his daughters".

With a slight smile Poe stood up again and removed his jacket and shirt, revealing his smooth, tanned torso.

You could feel yourself becoming physically aroused at the sight of this gorgeous man, half naked in your presence.

It had been years since you had felt the touch of another human being, you yearned to feel the warmth of another's body against yours.

Poe's strong, masculine presence intensified these cravings and urges. You were hoping that he would pick up on these silent cues.

The two of you worked together for a few hours in the unforgiving heat. You were comfortable around each other and worked well together as a team.

By the time you took your 2nd, and final, break night had already begun to settle in.

You were relaxing on the sand next to him when Poe looked at you, smiled a little and said,

"You were truly a great help, tomorrow I'm certain that we can finish the repairs, together".

"So what would you like to do the rest of the night?" You asked, your voice taking on a rather suggestive tone.

"What do you have on your mind?" Poe continued, laughing a little.

"If you'd like, you can do whatever you want with me". You answered back, unbuttoning your shirt a little.

Without any other words exchanged Poe leaned over and started to kiss you, deeply and passionately on the lips.

He grabbed your hand and guided it between his legs, resting it on his already firm erection that you could feel through the heavy material of his pants.

It didn't take long for both of you to remove your clothing and surrender to your urges.

Poe's beautiful, uncut cock remained hard as his head went between your legs and he started to lick, suck and nibble on your wet cunt until you were weak from pleasure.

Your body was shaking from ecstasy as Poe brought you over the edge several times with his tongue buried inside of your wetness.

"I need you to fuck me". You begged breathlessly, your legs opened wide and your body limp.

Poe enjoyed eating you out so much that you had to literally push him away.

"No". Poe replied with a slight laugh as he mounted you and began to tease the entrance of your wet cunt with the thick head of his cock. "I want you to beg harder, like a nice little girl".

"Daddy, fuck me with that big, juicy cock of yours". You begged, as you began to pant and moan helplessly.

His dark curls were askew and there was a primal, almost sinister glint in his dark eyes as Poe slid his bare, thick cock inside of your tight body and began to pound you, hard.

As Poe was pounding your wet cunt you reached between your legs and began to massage your hardened clit, bringing yourself to climax with him inside of you.

With a few cuss words Poe enjoyed his own orgasm deep inside of your body, spilling his thick, creamy seed deep inside of you.

"I'm so sorry, I wanted to pull out but it was too late". Poe confessed with a slight laugh as he helped you clean up a little.

"No, it's fine, I can't get pregnant". You told him with a slight laugh. "I have a 5 year birth control chip implanted in my body, there's still 3 years left".

"You felt so good". Poe continued, looking at you fondly and biting his lip in the most adorable manner.

After sharing a little more banter, and a few more kisses, the two of you went home.

"You did too". You confessed, looking deeply into his gorgeous eyes. "It's been awhile for me".

"I could tell". Poe said with a slight laugh as he took you into his arms and gave you a tight squeeze.

It may have been too soon to tell, but you felt like you were falling in love with him.

Poe retired early to his room and you took a quick shower and decided to pay your sister a visit at her place of work, the cantina.

Ria's shift was ending soon and you figured that you could maybe hang out and have a few drinks with her.

You were surprised to see that her shift had ended early and she was already seated at a table, when you saw the uniforms of the people that she was speaking to your blood immediately began to run cold.

Your baby sister was chatting up a storm with a pair of first order officers.......

End of part 2

[cashdiamondsgold]

S*x Secrets of An American Geisha  - Notes!

A summary from the book, as titled above. 

Men are visual and love beauty in a woman. Men are sexual and love sexiness in a woman. Men are masculine and love femininity in a woman. By making yourself beautiful, sexy, and feminine for potential Good Men, you are only “being submissive” or “surrendering” to the realities of men and women and to what can help you attract those Good Men to you.

Geisha Consciousness

Geisha has mastered the art of using all aspects of her femininity to attract, satisfy, and keep her men happy with her so that they will take advantage of her services again in the future. She is, as it were, building a satisfied clientele and a successful long-term business.

The Asian Geisha knows that her man is a simple creature who cannot be legislated into treating her well, but rather must be inspired by her personal ity, kindness, beauty, and sexy femininity to treat her well, both sexually and in all other aspects of relationship, love, and marriage.

Your differences from a man are what attract him to you. Your female characteristics exert a strong pull on his male characteristics as he experiences a gravitational attraction to you and all you represent of the feminine

The Asian Geisha knows that she should do all she can to make her man feel more masculine, more of a man. She knows that she wants to be as feminine to him as she can be.

The secret for both the Asian Geisha and the American Geisha is to display her femininity in a classy manner.

The Asian Geisha’s secret is that she knows that a man’s ego and sense of himself depend in large measure on both his feeling masculine and being seen as such by his woman. The Asian Geisha strokes the man’s ego in many ways, both to sat isfy him at the moment and to encourage him to purchase her business ser vices again in the future.

The Power of Geisha Femininity

Become attractive to a man and to let him pursue you

To attract, sat sfy, and keep your Good Man, be so beautiful, sexy, and feminine that you bring out the best aspects of his masculinity. Make him feel good about himself as a man. Do that, and he’ll never leave you.

The Western or American man is attracted to (or at least notices and appreciates) any fit, well-groomed woman who plays up her uniquely beau tiful characteristics and expresses her inherent femininity.

Geisha never lets her clients or potential clients see her when she is not at her most beautiful and feminine.

The Asian Geisha works consciously at always becoming more beautiful, more sexy, and more feminine, even if only by implementing the tiniest of changes. She makes enhancing her appearance and mannerisms a high prior ity so that she may continue to be thought of as attractive by her male clients and thus remain in demand for her companionship services. Since she is in the business of being a geisha, we can look at her efforts as similar to those of an entrepreneur wanting to make a conscious effort to maintain and to improve the quality of her product, which is herself, so as to main tain her clients’satisfaction and their loyalty to her.

the research of David M. Buss, as reported in his 1994 book, The Evolution of Desire: Strategies of Human Mating, suggests that men are attracted to youthfulness or the look of youthfulness in women and to healthy-looking women. Specific elements of a woman’s appearance that were found particularly attractive included full lips; clear, smooth skin; clear eyes; shiny, full hair; good muscle tone; a bouncy, youth ful walk; an animated face; and a high energy level. As to body type, men did not tend to prefer very thin women, though men were conscious of wanting to obtain a high-status, attractive wife, because such a wife in creases a man’s standing.

You need to be at your best and most attractive nearly always,

The Asian Geisha sets a perfect example of passively, femininely attracting, rather than aggressively pursuing, men in her business life. She never calls her customers, never initiates getting together, never pays for a meal or buys a gift. These are all masculine actions. The Asian Geisha is the absolute embodiment of the spirit of femininity. She readies herself. Then she waits. She has a confidence that she has prepared herself so well that gentlemen will seek out her company, her mere presence in their lives. The Asian Geisha relaxes, waits, and is receptive to the masculine energy that initiates, pursues, hunts, and makes things happen.

Become more fashion conscious Whatever the label might say, your goal with your clothes is to high light your best physical attributes . Finally, remember this basic: Dress with a sense of class.

remember not to separate beauty, femininity, and sexiness. Instead, let’s mix your three part Geisha Attractiveness with classiness and see how you can set yourself apart from the competition. I’ll use just one example from that last long list of what respondents found sexy and feminine: “Her clothing slightly reveals some of her body.” When you dress this way, you will be perceived as being sexy, feminine, and beautiful; all three aspects of your Geisha Attractiveness will be on display.

Make Your Good Man Feel Like More of a Man

The Asian Geisha is a beautiful actress, speaking lines from a script that she has developed for the very purpose of making her client feel good about himself. She knows that a convincing, ego-building performance with her client will likely result in his future business

You will build your Good Man’s ego and sense of himself as a man through your sincere affection, not through the calculation of customer satisfaction.

Yes, even when he is not there, give him full credit for making you come. His flesh always gets full credit. When he calls  somehow the conversation comes around to the fact that you masturbated the night before. I suggest to you, dear Younger Sister, that the following (or something similar) is what happened last night and is how you tell your Good Man about it: “I miss you so much, baby. I miss your cock in me. I got so horny for your fingers on my G-spot. I thought of us making love all day, your tongue on my clitoris. So I took a nice, warm bath and put on one of your favorite silk teddies and used Mister Big to help me. I imagined your tongue all over me and your cock pounding to the back of my vagina, your arms holding me so tightly, our lips crushed against each other’s. And I came so nicely. And then I fell asleep in heaven. Thank you, baby. I love you. Come home soon. You make me feel so good.”

You Love His Cock Like No One Ever Has

Here’s the true test of your love for your Good Man’s cock. At some point after you have responded so excitedly and orgasmically to his cock, after you have so often expressed how much you love and want his cock, after you have created a shrine to his cock, he will say to you these exact words (I promise, with no doubt at all in my mind): “No one has ever loved my cock as much as you do.” It will be true, too; no one ever has

If you do love what his cock does for you, scream with ecstasy when you come on his cock (or fingers or tongue), but also tell him with words that you love his cock (or fingers or tongue), and tell him often.

your first thought upon being asked by your Good Man to make love should be, with full enthusiasm, “Yes.” Go for it. Truly be enthusiastic. In fact, a Good Man only wants to make love with you when you are truly enthusiastic. Again, try to have a sincere enthusiasm when he wants to make love with you. He, his ego, and his cock can all sense when you are not enthusiastic. And they take it badly and personally when you are not really into making love with the three of them. Show real enthusiasm whenever you make love with your Good Man.

You become more and more of an American Geisha when, instead of refusing and rejecting your man, you take the following steps in a positive, loving manner: 1. Say, “I’d love to make love with you, but (give your reason).” 2. Propose a date (not too far in future). 3. Add something special (sometimes). 4. Ask, “Is that okay?”

-- source https://g.co/kgs/CUVsRn #Femininity #levelUp #SB #SW #booksummary

[apiratewhopines]

Chapter 4 — The Price of Gold

Summary: In which our heroine learns the value of history

“A whisper in the darkness

In the quiet it’ll grow

You can try to hide it in the farthest place

But everybody knows”

-Something in the Shadows, Amy Stroup

While she wasn’t up at her usual early hour, Emma considered the fact that she didn’t sleep away the entire morning as an improvement over the day before. The tranquil view from Killian’s cottage drew her out to the large covered porch to enjoy a cup of coffee and piece of toast while she pondered her options. Her host hadn’t returned from the hospital yet, which she took as a good sign because it probably meant Liam was awake and able to visit with him. If she truly wanted to sell the whole girlfriend cover, she should join them but her heart wasn’t in it. Better to keep the situation as ambiguous as possible, that way no one could accuse her of lying later on and maybe those same people wouldn’t look at her in disgust when the truth inevitably came out.

The waves crashed with enough violence to carry on the salty breeze and the sound almost lulled her back to sleep. She thought it might affect Killian the same way by the presence of a rope hammock hanging from the eaves on one side of the space. Resisting the urge to try it out, she decided it would be best if she actually started working on the case that had brought her to this odd little town. They were behind where she had hoped to be due to the wreck and she didn’t look forward to discussing the lack of progress with Liam once he was completely off the meds and able to have a lucid conversation. Her visit last evening had been entertaining, Liam occasionally waking up to grumble about the food or the bed or his displeasure about life in general, causing her and Killian to trade amused glances that always lasted a touch longer than they should.

Her initial impression of his place was proven true after she had given herself a little tour when he dropped her off last night. For a man who tended to favor dark colors and leather for his personal attire, his furniture and decor were decidedly soothing. It hinted at oceanic themes without being overtly beachy and while there was no doubt a masculine leaning in the straight lines and sharp angles, the overall effect was one of a comfortable, lived in home.

If she was pleased that there wasn’t any hint of a feminine presence, no candid photos stuck to the fridge or extra toothbrushes on the counter in the bathroom, she would deny it until her dying breath.

She took care to clean up after herself, removing any hint that she had stayed the night. She had immediately noticed that Killian seemed to keep his place scrupulously tidy. She already felt like she was doing him dirty so the least she could do was make sure she didn’t leave dishes in the sink.

Satisfied that he would find nothing out of place upon his return, she changed into shorts and paired them with a long-sleeved tech tee as a concession to the brisk morning. The weather was perfect for a run and since she didn’t have a car, she thought she could use the exercise as an excuse to surveil some of the town and hopefully start to work out some of the soreness that was lingering in her side.

Realizing that she didn’t have Killian’s number to check in, she jotted down a quick note to let him know where she was, adding her phone number at the bottom as an afterthought, and headed out. The first several minutes were torture, the crisp air felt like it was burning her chest and her side throbbed with each footfall. Gradually, her body relaxed into the motion and she was able to keep an easy pace that had her on Main Street within fifteen minutes.

Trying to remember cross streets from the map she had studied back in Boston, she meandered her way through the heart of town attempting to connect addresses with the events she was looking into. The wide roads and sidewalks of what one could jokingly refer to as the Storybrooke business district eventually gave way to narrower, tree-lined lanes. The houses in this area of town were large and set a pleasant distance off the street, their lawns a vibrant shade of green and bordered by perfectly pruned landscaping that hinted that the owners of said houses were probably not the ones taking care of the yard work.

She was fairly confident that the stately white mansion she was approaching was one she recognized from the Mills file. Formerly the home of the first mayor of the town after its incorporation in 1983, the property had passed on to his wife, Cora, whose daughter Regina was one of the missing person cases she hoped to look into. Keeping up her pace, she didn’t pause or show undue interest in the house as several people were already tracking her path with inquisitive eyes from their open windows and garages. She did however make a mental note to find the library and start combing public records for who currently resided in the home.

Leaving the swanky section of town, Emma picked up her pace until she was safely across Main and started exploring the neighborhoods on the west side of town. If a town as small as this one could be said to have a ‘wrong side of the tracks’ she guessed this must be it. The houses, while well-maintained, lacked the grandeur and pristine veneers of their counterparts on the other side. The further she went, the smaller and more distressed the homes appeared until finally giving way to vast tracks of undeveloped land.

Taking a dirt road named Apple Alley that she remembered from her research as being home to the Nolans, she calculated she was about a mile outside of town and running parallel to Main. Within a minute she had arrived at Robert Nolan’s old farmstead. As if two puzzle pieces just clicked in her mind, she registered that it was highly likely that Deputy David Nolan was the missing man’s relative, perhaps his son, and made another note to confirm the relationship.

Reaching the other end of the dirt lane, she headed back in the direction of town. Starting to feel the strain of her exertion and having passed the seven mile mark, she stopped long enough to cue up her music app and play some classic rock in an attempt to muster enough energy to finish strong. Focusing on the beat of the song, she tried to control her breathing which had become more of a struggle since she changed directions and the wind was now gusting toward her, adding resistance, instead of pushing her along. She was completely unaware of the motorcycle approaching from behind until it was almost on top of her.

Startled, she drifted quickly to the right in an attempt to move further off the road and nearly lost her footing on the grassy shoulder that was still slick with dew. She heard the engine cut off a second later and watched warily as the rider lowered the kickstand and removed his helmet. He was clad in the requisite leather jacket that seemed so popular with the men in Storybrooke for the cool summer nights and early mornings that were the norm in Maine. When he turned to face her, she noticed he was also sporting the requisite three day stubble.

He was handsome, his blue eyes twinkling at her even from a distance, and if she hadn’t already developed an affinity for a different dark haired, blue-eyed man, she would probably be more interested in returning his wolfish grin. For now, she thought it a better use of her time to dig out the key from her pocket and cautiously place it between her fingers. He looked harmless enough but that didn’t mean she could ignore decades of city living that had conditioned her flight-or-fight instincts.

“That’s a great song,” he said by way of greeting, smile becoming impossibly bigger as he gave her a good once over.

Forcing herself to loosen her stance, she moved closer, cutting the distance between them in half and stopping in the middle of the deserted road. She kept one eye on him as she silenced her music. He looked familiar, his face tantalizing something on the outer edges of her consciousness. Covertly releasing the key back into her pocket, she truly relaxed for the first time since he had surprised her. “That’s a nice motorcycle. I’m Emma Swan.”

“I know,” he chuckled and she got the impression that he felt like he knew something she didn’t. “August Booth.”

“I thought you might be,” she parroted back in the same wryly amused tone he used, trying to buy time to decide on the best approach. She hadn’t had a chance to look him up before she left Boston. Luckily, Liam had the bare bones of a dossier already compiled. Included in the file had been a long list of awards for Booth’s investigative journalism and notes about how he had leveraged his reporting into a career of writing prize-winning books. One review had stated that Booth revealed and sought to understand the depths of the human condition and no bookshelf was complete without all of his novels.

She had considered seeking him out in a few days to see if he would be willing to discuss his latest project, which was the catalyst for her journey to Storybrooke or at least responsible for the timing of it. The way he was staring at her, however, made her think he might have been seeking her out.

“Ah, you remember me, then?”

His comment caused her to rock back on her heels and take a closer look at him. There was something about him that she couldn’t put her finger on. Shaking her head in frustration, she entreated, “Maybe a little hint?”

“Phoenix, 2001.”

Her smile faded and she forced herself to stand still instead of retreating. Mind racing, she wondered how in the world she was going to make it back to town when her legs had turned to jelly. Of all the places in the world, this man who was witness to some of her darkest days had to be here. Now. Smiling at her as if they were long lost friends.

Noticing her distress, he moved closer even as she took another step away. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m not here to cause you any trouble.”

Before she could think through her words, she whispered, “Did you follow me here?”

“To Storybrooke? No, I’ve been here for weeks. But I will confess to following you out here,” he said softly as if trying to calm a skittish animal. “You ran past where I’m staying about half an hour ago and I figured it was worth taking a chance.”

She needed to get a grip. While a ghost from her past showing up was a crazy coincidence, if she kept blurting out whatever came into her mind, it would lead to problems. Even though the circumstances of their acquaintance were something she would rather forget, she didn’t think she had anything to fear from him.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you at first,” she admitted with a shy look. It didn’t help that she knew him as Wayne and he had been about twenty pounds lighter, a baby face in a tie. “I’m not ashamed of that part of my life but I don’t spend a lot of time reminiscing about it either.”

“I’m happy to see you again, Emma,” he told her and she knew he was telling the truth. His voice rang with sincerity and his gaze held fondness. “Honestly, I’ve thought about you a lot over the years, wondering how it all turned out...”

She knew what he wanted to ask and because of all the kindness he had shown her during a difficult time, she was more open than she normally would have been. “I kept the baby. His name is Henry and he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“That’s good,” he breathed out and continued to smile at her as if they met like this often. As if the last time she had talked with him she hadn’t be in prison, eight months pregnant. As if he wasn’t going by a new name and sporting a new look and following her out to the middle of nowhere. Jarring her out of her thoughts, he continued, “Do you want to grab a drink later and talk? I’d love to hear more about what you’ve been up to these past few years.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I think I’d like that.”

Her phone buzzed on her arm and she pulled it out of the sports band, shooting him a apologetic glance. Checking the screen, she saw a message from an unknown number. She opened it to see it was from Killian, telling her that Liam was being discharged that afternoon and asking if she was still in town and wanted to meet for a late breakfast at Granny’s Diner. Texting a quick reply that she would meet him in about twenty minutes, she put it away and turned her attention back to her companion.

“It’s been great seeing you, really, but I need to meet someone in town in a few minutes so I should get going. Does seven tonight work?” She asked, wanting to escape and have a few minutes to herself to process this twist of fate.

“Sure, I’ll pick you up.”

“You don’t know where I’m staying,” she pointed out. “I’ll meet you somewhere, just tell me the place.”

“I think I can figure out the mystery of your lodgings with a whole day at my disposal.” She knew he was right, even without his knack for getting information, it seemed the townspeople had nothing better to do than speculate on her arrival and actions. Knowing it wasn’t worth an argument and eager to meet Killian, she nodded absently and gestured to the road ahead in what passed for a goodbye.

She didn’t make it two steps. “Why don’t you let me give you a ride back? It’s the least I can do for ambushing you.”

She imagined that riding into town on the back of his motorcycle would set tongues wagging even more than they already were. On the other hand, she was worn out and her side was starting to hurt again so she wasn’t really feeling the mile or so trek back to the diner. Checking out his bike with a doubtful expression, she was on the verge of declining when he winked at her and said, “C’mon. I’ll even let you wear the cool helmet.”

—

Minutes later, they were pulling in front of the diner. Any hope of her arrival going unnoticed was foiled when he revved the engine loudly before parking straight out from the door.

“Thanks for the lift,” Emma murmured, pulling the helmet off and placing it on the seat she just vacated. She avoided checking out her reflection in the window, fearing that between the workout and the helmet, her hair was a sweaty mass of tangles. “See you tonight.”

“I’ll walk in with you,” he offered, his demeanor showed he knew she was trying to get rid of him and was highly amused by it.

“I’m pretty sure I can find the way by myself.”

“It’s not always about you, Emma,” he chuckled. “I’m staying at the Bed ‘n Breakfast. Granny’s has the best onion rings in the state.”

“Right.” Well, she tried. Short of pushing him into the street and running inside before he could recover, she knew she was stuck. Not that she didn’t consider it briefly.

Entering the restaurant, she was immediately assaulted by the scent of greasy food and coffee. It smelled like heaven. Trying to ignore the way people were watching them, one pair of eyes paying particularly keen attention, she made her way over to the booth Killian had taken, right in the middle of the place. To her extreme discomfort, her ride followed her as she weaved through the tables.

When she collapsed onto the vinyl bench opposite him, Killian took in her disheveled clothes and glum bearing before turning to scrutinize her companion, who for his part seemed to be having a great time. As if sensing the underlying hostility from her seat mate and the curiosity of everyone else, August called out cheerfully, “See you at seven,” before making his way toward the back hallway and disappearing from sight.

She watched as Killian showed signs of shifting through various thoughts. When he spoke, it was only to ask with a hint of playful censure, “Have you been making friends, Swan?”

“What can I say? I’m a people person,” she replied, quickly grabbing a menu and using it as a shield. Feigning more interest in the plastic-coated paper than the standard diner menu warranted, she changed the subject. “How’s my favorite invalid doing?”

She snuck a peek over the top of her self-made barrier and his exasperated look told her that he knew exactly what she was doing but he would let it slide. For now. The barely coiled energy he emitted around her always gave the impression that he was impatiently waiting for the opportune moment to drop some more truth bombs. “He’s having a grand time. He yelled at the doctor, refused to eat the oatmeal they brought him, claimed he would have to swim back to England for a good cup of tea broken arm or no, and told everyone within a two mile radius that he didn’t need to be mollycoddled.”

“So pretty much back to normal then,” she observed still not meeting his frank gaze. The dull hum of conversation had started back up around them and she wondered if maybe she had dreamed the complete silence of a moment ago.

“If you stare at that menu any harder you’re going to burn a hole through it, love,” Killian teased and she knew if she looked up, she would see one eyebrow raised in that provoking manner of his. She wished she didn’t find him so attractive. He made her want to explain things, to tell him stuff that she had no business telling anyone and not only about why she was meeting another man later that day. Things about her past, dark things best whispered in the night. When she didn’t respond, he smirked at her and remarked, “If you’ll permit me, I recommend the pancakes.”

Making a noncommittal sound, she tossed down the menu as a striking brunette waitress brought over a mug of hot chocolate topped with whipped cream and a sprinkle of cinnamon and a sandwich bag full of ice. The woman fluttered her lashes at Killian before she dropped the order on the table.

Surprised, Emma looked at Killian and said, “How did you know?”

“I didn’t,” he informed her tightly, a frown replacing the normally cocky look on his face.

The waitress, whose name tag read Ruby, announced loudly, “From Mr. Booth. He said you would know what to do with it.”

She felt herself blushing but couldn’t deny that she was pleased with the offering. That was the man she remembered, thoughtful and warm, and she guessed this was his way of telling her he remembered too. The bag of ice was probably to signal that he knew of her current circumstances as well although she was less sure of that analysis. Regardless of what he might have meant by it, she took the makeshift cold pack and gingerly pressed it to her side before ordering the tall stack of pancakes for them both.

Killian’s frown shifted from annoyed to concerned as he watched her carefully lean back against the booth. “Are you having trouble? Should you have it looked at again? Maybe they missed something.”

“It’s probably from my run. I got carried away and pushed harder than I should have,” she acknowledged. “Nothing a little rest and relaxation won’t take care of.”

“Perhaps you should cancel your plans tonight and take it easy. Liam will be home and we can order in,” he suggested, watching her closely. “I’m sure he’ll be happy to spend some time with you and I can make myself scarce if you would prefer.”

There was something very wrong about hearing Killian hint that she and Liam would like some quality time. She would have lost her appetite if the pancakes that were being delivered to their table didn’t look like fluffy perfection. Worried she might start drooling if she had to wait a second longer, she suddenly realized that they were sorely lacking in silverware.

With a groan, she launched herself out of the seat, ignoring Killian’s distressed, “Sit down, Swan, I’ll grab some for us.”

Tossing him a flippant look over her shoulder, she made her way to the end of the extended counter and waited for someone to come her way. Finally, Ruby gave her a brief nod and shortly thereafter was standing across from her. “How can I help you, Emma Swan?”

She wasn’t even surprised that the other woman knew her name. Hell, she wouldn’t have been surprised if she knew her birthday, measurements, and favorite color at this rate. “We need a couple of forks when you get a chance.”

Moving with a restless animation that was almost overwhelming, Ruby swiftly produced two sets of tableware, each neatly wrapped in a printed napkin. When Emma reached out to take them, she moved them out of arm’s reach. “Hold on a second! We need to have a heart to heart first.”

Laughing at the waitress’s antics, she crossed her arms over her chest. “I have a feeling I’m going to regret asking but my pancakes are getting cold, so lay it on me.”

“While I can certainly understand your appeal, it’s not fair to the rest of us ladies for you to hog all the delicious male specimens in Storybrooke. Especially the new, rich ones like Mr. Booth.”

“That is not what is going on here,” Emma said hastily, feeling as if she had been attacked. Except Ruby wasn’t being belligerent or hateful, if anything she was teasing. Still, she wasn’t quite sure how to take her or respond for that matter.

“All I’m saying is that it’s polite to leave with the man who brought you,” Ruby explained. Or tried to explain because she was confused now if the woman was talking about August, who dropped her off, or Liam, who technically brought her to town. As if sensing her confusion, Ruby continued, “If it makes you feel more amenable, I can assure you that I haven’t had the pleasure of Jones’s company.”

“It’s none of my business what Killian does,” she told the waitress heatedly. She looked over her shoulder at the man in question, who had turned in his seat and was talking to a couple in the next booth. Shuddering at the image that floated through her mind of him and Ruby twisted up together, she grabbed the forks from the woman while the brunette was busy staring at Killian with her bottom lip pulled between her teeth.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Ruby confessed throatily, “it will be epic when all those pent up urges finally explode through that wall of British propriety. Unfortunately, despite my best efforts, Killian Jones remains impenetrable.”

A feeling she was reluctant to name coursed through her, a feeling suspiciously like relief, and she started backing up towards her table. Then Ruby refocused her gaze with a smirk and said, “But I was talking about your man, Liam. Tell me, do sweet nothings sound better when they’re whispered in that accent?”

“Right, well, this has been a very interesting conversation but my breakfast is waiting.”

“Of course,” the young woman responded brightly. “Maybe we can hang out while you are in town. It gets old seeing the same faces day after day.”

“Maybe,” Emma answered, nearly tripping over a chair in her rush to get away.

“Finally,” Killian complained. Snatching one of the bundles from her hand, he tore away the napkin and nearly shoved a whole pancake in his mouth. Swallowing with a satisfied sound, he asked, “What in blue blazes did Ruby need to say that couldn’t have waited until after we ate?”

“Nothing important.”

“Really? Because my rapidly cooling pancakes beg to differ,” he groused, sounding a lot like his brother all of the sudden.

She was out of sorts and irritated with life and ready to take it out on him. “I was trying to spare your delicate sensibilities but if you must know, Ruby was filling me in on your sexual history and your brother’s as well.”

“Bloody hell!” His fork clattered to his plate and he gaped at her in embarrassment. “Can’t even get a meal without someone nosing in...”

With delight dancing across her face, she took the first bite of buttery, syrupy goodness. “I think you need to watch out for that one, Jones. She might be planning to eat you alive.”

“I need to watch out for all of them.”

The words would have sounded like a boast if not for the hint of sadness that touched his features. It seemed like Liam wasn’t the only one with difficult circumstances. Content to finish breakfast without additional commentary, she sat across from him and enjoyed her pancakes while listening to him curse under his breath.

—

Deep, male laughter drifted through the cottage that evening as Liam and Killian discussed sports, sailing, and the general state of the world. From her place in front of the bathroom mirror, she chuckled when she heard Killian object loudly to whatever Liam had said to him before another round of good natured ribbing broke out.

Their genuine affection for each other caused a sweet ache to form in her chest, a longing for something she had never had. Whatever their individual rough edges were, when the brothers were together they smoothed each other out somehow. She could tell that the bond they shared transcended their disagreements and disappointments and she wondered how her life might have been different if she had experienced that kind of unconditional support when she was growing up.

Dragging herself out of her maudlin thoughts, she checked her reflection to make sure she looked presentable. The black tank dress and heeled sandals were simple, dressy enough for a night out but more comfortable than her normal honey trap ensembles. She left her hair gently curling down her back as she didn’t see much point in fixing it if it was simply going to be messed up during the ride to town. Throwing her red leather jacket over her outfit and putting her keys and phone into her pocket, she scanned the counter to make sure that the bathroom was as neat as it was when she entered.

She followed the sound of their voices out to the porch and smiled when she saw them both nursing water bottles, Killian forgoing a drink in solidarity with his brother’s current medical restrictions. A part of her wished she could join them instead of leaving. However, the gleam in Liam’s eyes when Killian had mentioned her plans for the night had made it clear that far from objecting, he was practically pushing her out the door.

Stepping into the golden glow of the patio string lights that were roped with casual elegance back and forth across the ceiling, she twirled around and fished for compliments for the first time in her life. “Well, what do you guys think?”

“You clean up nicely,” Liam joked, the line of fresh stitches barely noticeable in the soft light and doing nothing to detract from the contentment on his face.

“I think what my stodgy brother means to say is that you are stunning, Swan,” Killian flirted outrageously, his gaze lingering on her legs before meeting her eyes again. The heat in his glance revealing that while his tone was provocative, he meant every word. “You’ll be wasted on the Rabbit Hole, love.”

“How do you know that’s where we’re going?”

“This isn’t Boston, Emma. There’s only a handful of places to grab a drink here,” Liam explained, seeming to agree with Killian’s assessment. “I look forward to hearing all about your evening later.”

Rolling her eyes at him, she heard the throttle of an engine in the distance. Her companions evidently did too as Killian muttered, “Bloody nuisance. Are you sure you don’t want me to drive you there instead?”

“And what, sit at the next table while we talk? No, I think I can survive another motorcycle ride. Don’t wait up! I have my key.” She joined August as he came to a stop, taking the helmet he held out and carefully settling behind him. After making sure her dress was securely anchored, she waved at the brothers and wrapped her arms around August’s waist.

Sunset was still about an hour away but the fireflies were out, lighting up the forest on both sides of the road. Somehow, she knew she would never forget this moment, the verdant forest crowding the sky, wind racing past them, warm air mixing with a cooler night breeze. She felt freer than she had in years and wished Henry was there to enjoy it with her.

Thoughts of Henry brought her back to the reality. She had a job to do and the sooner she was done, the sooner she could return to her real life.

Pulling off the harbor road and heading away from town, August eventually slowed to a halt and asked, “Are you okay for a short hike?”

Puzzled but game, she nodded and allowed him to take her hand to help her off the seat. He unlocked the top box on the back of the bike and pulled out a flashlight, blanket, and a tiny picnic basket. Without a word, he turned up to a slightly overgrown trail. Following him into the woods, she was surprised at how dark and hushed the landscape was. They walked for about ten minutes before he stopped and made a satisfied sound deep in his throat.

When she came up beside him, she could see why. He had brought her to a bluff that overlooked Storybrooke, the city spreading out beneath them and glittering like the fireflies that lit their way here. “Wow.”

“I think it has a certain something,” he agreed, eyes twinkling characteristically.

He spread the blanket out and removed a small bottle of wine and two metal cups from the basket, pouring them each some before sitting down with a quiet grunt. She kicked off her shoes and joined him, primly folding her legs to the side and grinning as she took a sip.

“So, August or Wayne or whatever you’re calling yourself these days,” she started teasingly.

“I’ve always been August but I used my middle name as my byline back in my newspaper days,” he explained. “Harder for the death threats to find you that way.”

“Nice,” she said, shaking her head in disbelief. “I guess now those are fewer and far between.”

“You’d be surprised,” he answered mysteriously. He had always had this otherworldly quality about him, as if he saw and knew more than other people. His face was careworn, lines fanning out from his eyes and gently scoring his forehead. While his hair was still a warm brown color, the beginnings of his beard had some silver that glinted in the red light of sunset. But when he looked at her, his eyes were the exact same mix of intelligence and underlying mischief that made him seem like a schoolboy instead of a famous author. “Emma, how did you end up here?”

“That is a long story,” she sighed, taking another drink to give herself time to think. “Why are you here?”

“You know, I’ve covered stories all over this world. Heart wrenching tales of woe, uplifting accounts that would make you believe that heroes still exist, thrilling adventures, and hopeless romances. You’re still the only person who wouldn’t tell me anything unless I offered a story of my own in trade first. I think that’s why you’re the only one that haunted me.”

“Haunted you? That sounds ominous.”

“It isn’t. I may use different words to describe it but I think it amounts to what normal people would call friendship. So, Emma Swan, since you have the distinction of being my oldest friend, I will give you what you want. I’m in Storybrooke to write a book.”

“Believe it or not, I kind of figured that out already. What’s it about?”

“Well, it’s not just any book. This one is special.”

She studied his profile, shaken by the serene admission. Shaken by the whole conversation for that matter. Mostly because he was right. If she was his oldest friend then he was her first, and possibly only, one. A friendship made in a prison cell for the price of a story.

He had come to interview expectant mothers serving out their sentences. She had refused to take part but he would talk with her anyway, visiting her during the course of his research. Eventually, they both started sharing pieces of their lives and in the end, he left just like everyone else did.

“Why didn’t you ever try to find me? If you felt like we were friends, why disappear?”

“I don’t think I was ready to learn the end of your story,” he said simply, as if that explained a decade of nothing. “Did you ever find Neal?”

“What makes you think I went looking?”

“Friends, remember?” He laughed and nudged her shoulder with his own.

“Yes I found him. For Henry’s sake. They are vacationing on the west coast as we speak.” Staring out into the thickening darkness, she admitted, “I miss him. But it’s the right thing to do. A kid deserves to know their parents.”

He topped off her cup, putting the bottle aside without filling his own. “Would you want to know about your parents, if you could?”

“I’m not a kid anymore and I haven’t been for a long time. Maybe not ever.”

The conversation lapsed, both buried deep in thoughts of the past, of things that were or never would be. He opened the picnic basket again and handed her a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a bag of pretzels. It wasn’t fancy, but then their relationship was never about flash. It was about having someone to talk to while you learned to accept what life threw at you.

Hours later, loath to leave but knowing it was approaching midnight, she stretched out her legs and moved to stand up. “I should probably get back. It’s been a rough few days.”

As they made their way through the night by the thin beam of his flashlight, she didn’t mention that he hadn’t told her what his book was about and he didn’t point out that she never told him why she was in town.

Perhaps they would continue to haunt each other.

[khadij-al-kubra]

I’m Still Here (a songfic oneshot)

Pairing: None (maybe Moxiety if you squint)

Characters: (Human AU) Virgil, Logan, Patton, Roman, Dr. Picani, Duncan (Deceit), Jamal, Dariana, Alma (OC)

Warnings: mentions of considered suicide, self hate, abandonment

Summary: A year ago, Vigil couldn’t have imagined himself being alive, let alone accepted as he was and happy. But here we was, and on the anniversary of the day he decided to start truly living, he plans to show it to his little corner of the world.

Author’s Note: Hey friends! I’ve had this idea in mind for a while and really just wanted to get it out there. I’ve always loved the film Treasure Planet and the main song from it, but it wasn’t until recently when I heard the song again that I realized it could tell another kind of story. I tried to do as much justice as possible but I am not myself trans or part of the lgbt community. So if I got anything wrong or could’ve done anything better please let me know. As always feel free to leave a comment in the messages or reply if you have any notes or constructive critiques. I’m always open to writing advice. Enjoy! 

AO3

Knowing who you are and coming to terms with it is one thing. Actually getting to be who you truly are without fear and loving yourself is a whole other, much harder thing. As far back as he could remember Virgil had always known two things about himself with absolute intuitive certainty: that he was an anxious mess and that he was a boy. Even without being consciously aware of what gender was specifically, he always felt that way on the inside. It wasn’t until he was five or six and his mom kept forcing him to wear too tight pigtails and poofy dresses that he realized the rest of the world didn’t see him that way; that his outside didn’t match the inside. He hated it and himself.

As he got older he allowed himself small acts of defiance. He insisted on wearing pants when he could and cut his long black hair short. He always insisted on people calling him ‘V’ instead of ‘Victoria.’ His parents weren’t trilled about their child being an introverted sarcastic tomboy that played guitar all day instead of a polite, sweet, studious young lady, but they still loved him. Or rather, they loved Victoria. Virgil learned to hide who he really was, got good at keeping quiet and playing the part as long as it kept his parents happy and himself safe. It was a miserable time in his life. He hated his body, hated his mind, and hated himself; that he longed to have the simple luxury of being his true self, knowing it was impossible. One day, Virgil decided he didn’t want to live this way anymore.

That had been two years ago.

“Yo, Virgil! You still with us man?” Jamal asked, breaking Virgil out of his thoughts.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry ‘bout that dude,” he said to the keyboard player.

“No worries. You just don’t usually get all spaced out like that during rehearsals.”

“Guess I’m trying to channel my inner Ziggy Stardust,” Virgil said, smirking at his band mate.

“That’s not exactly our usual sound,” said their drummer Dariana. She was sitting in Jamal’s lap, lightly scratching the back of her boyfriend’s fro. “But hey, I guess it kind of works for this particular song.”

“Just make sure your head stays in the music,” Duncan droned as he adjusted the strings on his bass. “After all, you’re the one who insisted we do a cover of this song for the talent show instead of one of our own songs. Or begged is more like it.”

“Easy Duncan,” Jamal warned the other musician. “I’d like to get through one rehearsal without you two going at each other.”

“I’m just saying the talent show is this Friday. If our fearless leader is going to make us learn a whole new song in so short a time,” Duncan threw daggers at Virgil with his brown and green eyes, “the least he can do is stay focused during rehearsal.”

Virgil fought the urge to hiss at the Nirvana t-shirt clad teen. The guy was a sarcastic snake in the grass at times, but there was no denying his musical skills. He was an important part of the band, so he tried to keep the peace most days. And to be fair, he wasn’t wrong in this instance. Virgil has been so adamant for them all to learn this song in time for the school talent show. The least he could do was put 110% of his focus into practice.

“Yeah, yeah. I gotcha. No more daydreaming ‘till we’re done.” Virgil promised.

“And hey! We’ve nearly got it finished,” said Dariana as she returned to her drum set. “And it’s only taken, what, three hours?”

Virgil smirked at her subtle call-out to him. He knew she was tired, as was he. Still, his anxiety at possibly being off key or hitting a sour note the night of the show made him push them all to practice even more than usual. This performance was too important to him.

“Alright, let’s pick it back up from the bridge, run through the song two more times and then we’ll call it quits.” said Virgil.

“After we do our ritual for good luck,” Jamal said. “It is the night of the full moon. Gotta get as much of that good energy as we can from Gaia.”

“Of course,” said Virgil. He already had the three spell candles, quarts and incense in his backpack. “Can’t forget that.”

He waited for Dariana to count them in. She clicked her drumsticks together, “One-two-three-four!”

Virgil lost himself in the music as he always did, giving his band mates full attention. After the four Wiccan teens completed the small ceremony they went their separate ways. Well, save for Duncan, since their rehearsal space was in his garage. Yet another reason Virgil tried to keep things civil with him. It wasn’t his fault their personalities clashed harder than a cymbal.

On the long bus ride to the apartment he now called home, Virgil put on his large headphones to block out the rest of the world. It was the easiest ways to relax and not let the anxiety of being in a crowded public vehicle overwhelm him. As the music played and the streets passed him by outside the window, Virgil found himself looking back on where he’d started. He almost couldn’t believe it sometimes. Two years…Two years since the night he wanted to end his life and the same night where a chance encounter had convinced him not to…

…That night Virgil had waited till his parents were fast asleep. Not that he thought they’d miss him (he was never the daughter they wanted him to be) but still, he wanted to spare them the unpleasant sight. Sometime between the witching our and 3am he snuck out the bedroom window and made his long walk to the high wooded hill on the borderline of their small town. He didn’t go there anymore, but at the time that had been Virgil’s safe retreat where he could go to think or cry. He and the occasional summer potheads only ever occupied it. It had been a crisp autumn night and the stars were in their full radiant splendor. He’d at least wanted something beautiful to see in his last moments on Earth.

When he got the top of the hill, the last thing he’d expected to find was someone else already there. It was some guy around his age, and he had been sitting just a few feet away from the cliff’s edge. In all honesty, at the time, Virgil was both surprised and thoroughly pissed. He had been trying to avoid witnesses. Virgil must have stepped on a branch or something, because suddenly the guy was alerted to his presence. When he turned around Virgil froze. Even with only the light of the half moon he recognized the dark hair, piercing blue eyes and glasses. It was a classmate of his from school. Since he was still just a freshman Virgil had never plucked up the courage to talk to him, or anyone else really for that matter. Plus the guy always seemed to be stuck nose deep in his studies. Yet there seemed to be a look of recognition in the others’ face.

“Good evening,” he said, like some figure straight out of a gothic novel.

“Uh…hey,” said Virgil. He pulled up the hood of his purple sweater.

“I hadn’t expected anyone else to be out here tonight, let alone know about this spot,” the guy said, pushing up his glasses. He didn’t seem annoyed however. If anything he sounded curious, yet there was something soothing about his deep voice. “Would you like to join me?”

Virgil watched him pat the spot next to him. It would’ve looked weird if he refused, since he clearly came up there with a purpose. So Virgil opted to sit down for the time being. Besides, given how late it was, the guy was bound to leave at some point.

“You’re in my chemistry class, right?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah,” said Virgil.

“I thought so. Yet I don’t believe we’ve ever properly spoken before. I’m Logan Sanders. And you are?”

Virgil looked down at the held out hand. How could a guy come off as so formal yet open at the same time? Not wanting to be rude, Virgil took his hand, cold from the night air.

“I’m Vic—“ He gulped. Well, if this was gonna be his last night, might as well let himself be honest for once. What’s he have to lose? “…Virgil. Virgil Yang”

Logan didn’t let go or look at him in disgust, but his eyebrows did shoot up. Virgil pulled his hand back, not aware of the softening look on Logan’s face.

“Ah. I see. Well then, pleasure to make your acquaintance, Virgil.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. I don’t look and sound like a typical guy—“

“Perhaps your biology may not match your gender. However that doesn’t negate how you perceive yourself to be on a soul level. If you say you are a boy, which I assume so given the masculine name, unless you are non-binary, then frankly it’s no right of mine to refute it,” Logan said matter-of-factly.

There were a lot of words there, a few of which had confused Virgil at the time. But the basic gist he gleaned was that he had been honest about who he was, and instead of receiving disgust or hatred, Logan had taken it in stride. No one had ever treated Virgil that way before.

“I’m a guy.” It felt like such a stupid response, but saying it out loud had felt like a boulder being tossed off his chest.

“Well then there it is.” said Logan with a small smile.

Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat. “Y-yeah I guess…Thanks.”

“Of course. So I realize this is none of my business, but out of curiosity might I ask what brings you up here tonight?”

Jeez, he really did speak too old for someone his age. “I should be asking you the same thing.”

Classic deflective technique. Logan scrutinized him but didn’t press. In his eyes, there was almost a silent yet pained understanding.

“Fair enough. I happen to enjoy coming out here from time to time to look at the stars and wait to make my pre-dawn prayers. It’s quite relaxing to do so in nature, especially before the weather becomes too cold.”

“Pre-dawn prayers?” Virgil asked.

“Indeed. My faith requires Muslims like me, although mind you I am only a recent convert, to perform five daily prayers so as to facilitate a constant mindfulness of God in our daily lives,” Logan explained.

“No offense but I wouldn’t have pegged you as the religious type. Not that I’m judging or anything!” Virgil added quickly. “I mean, it’s not something I vibe on myself, but if it’s your thing, that cool I guess. You just seem all scientific and logical and stuff.”

“Valid assumption, but false. On the contrary, it is possible for science and spirituality to go hand in hand, so to speak. After all, science is the study of the structure and behavior of the physical world around us, even to the unseen subatomic level, and adequately submitting to it. And what is faith other than the study of and submission to an unseen divine force greater that oneself?” Virgil caught the gleam of excitement in Logan’s eyes as he spoke. “Additionally, some of the greatest scientific minds emerged from the Islamic world. For example, did you know that one of the greatest astronomers in history was a Muslim?”

Virgil perked up at that part. “Astronomy?”

When he told Logan that astronomy was his all time favorite subject, the guy went into full-on nerd mode. They started talking about their favorite constellations and the stories behind them. Logan talked about his favorite astronomers and Virgil listened with wrapped interest, captivated by the other’s enthusiasm. Somehow this led to Logan telling Virgil about his theories on how God was actually a They/Them/Their and not an all powerful cis-white He or even a She since God was beyond the human concepts of gender, race, or sexuality. It was so out there and beyond anything Virgil had ever been exposed to, yet it was just so damn wild and interesting to listen to Logan ramble on about it. The more they talked the less Virgil thought about the reason why he’d gone up there in the first place.

Even when Logan stopped to pray, using the small rug he’d brought with him, Virgil didn’t move from his spot. He watched Logan pray or looked back up at the stars. They really had been beautiful that night. Not even that, however, compared to the otherworldly beauty of when the sun finally started to rise. It wasn’t like Virgil had never seen a sunrise before, but something about that one was different. Like the volume on the world around him was turned up yet there was a comfortable silence to it all as well. It broke the walls inside of Virgil’s heart and released the toxic black flood that had been swelling up inside of him for years.

When Logan, having been long done with his prayers, saw Virgil cry he didn’t say anything. Didn’t try to cheer him up or pull back in confused discomfort. Instead he placed a still yet gentle hand on Virgil’s shoulder and sat with him until he’d cried himself out. Even after Virgil calmed down Logan didn’t try to get him to open up about why he’d suddenly started sobbing. Instead he only asked if Virgil felt better. He had. Then Logan offered him a ride back to town on the back of his bike. To his surprise, Virgil took up the offer. He no longer felt as tired as he had on the climb up, but he had felt physically exhausted. He longed for his bed and a good breakfast of rice and eggs with some kimchi. Virgil had taken one last look at the cliff before following Logan down the hill. He could always try again if he needed to, he had reasoned. Death wasn’t going anywhere.

It was because of that one chance encounter that he’d lived to see another day, and more to come.

After that night on the cliff Logan started to talk to him more at school. As nervous as he was at first, Virgil slowly allowed the logical nerd into his small world. They sat together at lunch in comfortable silence, or occasionally got into debates that were admittedly pretty fun. They were both freshman so they had a lot of the same classes. They’d hang out in the library after school or do homework at Logan’s house where his mom would invite Virgil to stay for dinner. Sometimes when Virgil was having a panic attack Logan would be able to help calm him down. They never brought up the cliff again, yet Virgil knew without asking that –if he wanted him to–Logan would be there to listen. One day Logan suggested, albeit in his straightforward way, that Virgil join him at the school’s LGBTQ Club meetings after school. That was also the day Virgil learned his Muslim friend was Bi. The club was also where Virgil would meet his other soon to be two best friends, Patton (the pansexual club president) and Roman (the gayer than the Yule Tide vice president). 

It was because of Logan that he’d found a community and his first real friends.

The more Virgil went to the LGBTQ Club meetings, the more he got to understand the part of his identity that he’d tried to hide away for so long. Virgil was especially drawn to Patton, who’d been the first to welcome Virgil with open arms. Not only was the guy super frigging cute (not that he’d ever admit it out loud) but also the curly haired freckle faced boy was so incredibly warmhearted! Everything about him radiated comfort and kindness and understanding. Perhaps it was because he’d been born blind, but Patton had a way of seeing people (a pun the guy used way too often) for who they were beneath the surface. He slowly got Virgil to open up more about his parents and himself. Patton was an ever-patient listener. The practicing Buddhist had even started teaching Virgil meditation as a way to help calm his thunderstorm mind, and it did help. Later on Patton convinced Virgil to talk wit his father, who also happened to be the school’s guidance councilor, to see if maybe he could help with some of the things he had been dealing with for so long on his own.

It was because of Patton that he’d found hope.

Roman had taken longer to warm up to, since there were both so similar and different at the same time. However, once they got past the snarky banter and discovered a mutual love of Disney and Sondheim, they’d become great friends. When he officially came out as FtM transgender, Roman had been his biggest supporter. Anytime some idiots gave him a hard time in school or threatened him, Roman was there to defend him and tell the others off. He’d convinced his parents to let Virgil stay at his house the first week after being kicked out. Granted, Roman hadn’t told his Sephardic Jewish parents why his skinny goyim friend from school needed a place to stay (he wasn’t exactly ‘out’ at home yet), but they didn’t press. All they knew was that their son’s friend needed help and lots of big meals. So they welcomed Virgil until he’d found a more permanent place to stay. After that, Roman and Virgil had become brothers. Later on the actor introduced him to other musicians, artists, books and plays that were all LGBT centric in an attempt to help him through his trans journey. (“It’s important to keep up with fellow gay icons, especially when you plan to be the next NPH.”) For the first time Virgil saw himself in other’s, saw that he wasn’t alone. He began to think that, hey, if other people made it through okay –had even made an impact in people’s lives– maybe he could too.

It was because of Roman that he’d found his self worth.

Once the drama king had learned of Virgil’s interests and talent in music, he convinced him to be part of the band for the school’s musical. That was where he’d met Jamal, Dariana and Duncan. After learning they all shared a love of punk rock music and were each practicing wiccans, the four teens decided to form their own band. Of course Virgil had been nervous at first and never failed to get stage fright before performing. Yet whenever he got up behind a microphone, guitar in hand and started to sing, he felt a strange sense of calm. When he performed, Virgil couldn’t be anywhere else but in the now and he loved that. On top of that, because he had not only a good voice but also a fairly low one for someone of his, uh, biology, he passed easier as a boy in the audiences’ eyes. Over time the Children of Hecate found their sound and became local favorites. Sure they’d only played at school dances and local open mic nights, but it was a start. This one guy Remy who owned a coffee shop down town even paid them to perform twice a month to get in a younger crowd.

It was because of their band that he’d found his voice…

…The shuddering jerk of the bus shook Vigil from his memories. Good thing too, or else he would’ve missed his stop. Really gotta work on not zoning out on public transportation. The last thing he wanted was to end up in some part of town that wasn’t familiar. His nerves would never survive.

The apartment was only a block away form the bus stop. He climbed up the stairs (elevators freaked him out too much), got to the door, took out his spare key and went inside kicking off his boots. The smell of garlic pasta and cookies welcomed him, as did the sound of jazzy Studio Ghibli music renditions. The Picani household never ceased to be a warm and inviting safe haven for him.

“I’m home,” Virgil called out.

“Hiya Virgil!” Patton said, popping his head out from the kitchen.

Virgil noticed he was wearing an apron. Must’ve been helping his Ren out in the kitchen again. It always made Virgil nervous thinking about Patton being in the kitchen when he couldn’t properly see the appliances or the stove. Yet Patton insisted, and admittedly has proven, that he’s perfectly capable of cooking so long as someone else is with him.

“Hey Patton. I’m at the door,” said Virgil, letting the other boy follow his voice.

Patton didn’t need his cane when at home, and he maneuvered around the apartment like a pro. He reached out to Virgil and enveloped the young musician in a big hug.

“How was band practice?” asked Patton when they broke apart.

“Went pretty well. The song’s coming along good and Duncan and me only snapped at each other once. New record.”

“Helloooo nurse!” Shouted Dr. Emile Picani as he popped in from down the hall in all his pink haired glory. “Glad to see ya got home safe Virgil.”

“That makes two of us Doc,” he said.

Virgil set his bag and guitar case down before letting himself be caught in a big hug from the school guidance counselor. Even his hugs were as animated as the cartoons he loved.

“Did I hear you two talking about that new song you’re planning for the talent show? I hope it’s the Disney one you were obsessed with a while back?”

It had been sometime last month when Virgil, Patton and Picani had sat down for one of their Disney movie marathons. They’d put on Treasure Planet, which until then Virgil had never seen. Not only did he love the protagonist, story, and animation, but also the song just spoke to him. Even though the lyrics weren’t about the struggles he’d gone through necessarily, they still spoke to Virgil on a personal level. He’d listened to it on repeat for weeks. That’s how he got the idea to sing it with his band for the talent show after he found out the date.

“Yep. The very same.”

“Exellent,” said Picani in a semi-good Stewie Griffin voice. “Such a great song from a highly underrated movie. I mean seriously, it’s about pirates in SPACE! HOW is that not more popular?!”

“Oh dear,” said a bright voice from the kitchen. “When my partner starts going on a Disney rant is when I come to the rescue.”

Patton’s Ren came out of the kitchen, wiping their hands with a dishrag. Virgil squinted to see the pronouns necklace they wore. Today was a ‘she’ day. As much as she teased the grown man about his cartoon obsessions she really was no better. The long blue winter skirt, black legging and white cashmere sweater she wore made her look practically like Belle incarnate. Save for the cropped curly blonde hair that Patton shared.

“Hello Vigil, welcome back,” she said, pulling him gently into a hug.

“Hey Alma,” said Virgil, returning the embrace. The Picanis were the only people that Virgil let hug him. “Dinner smells great.”

“Thank you! Should be ready soon. If you could help me set the table after you wash up I’d really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he said. Helping out was the absolute least Virgil could do.

“Oh I can’t wait to hear your band play this Friday!” Alma said. “I’ve got the perfect suit to wear for your special night and everything. Even found myself a nice galaxy tie to go along with your space song’s theme.”

“I’m sure you’ll look killer Alma.”

“Don’t forget, Roman’s gonna be in it too,” said Patton. “We’ve gotta show him our love and support also.”

“Well now that goes without saying sweetheart.”

Suddenly Patton started sniffing the air. “Uhh Renny, did the timer go off? ‘Cause I smell smoke.”

“My cookies!” She rushed back to the kitchen. Virgil, Patton and Picani barely held back their giggles.

Virgil really owed the Picanis more than he’d ever be able to repay. When Patton finally convinced Virgil to start seeing his dad for counseling about his anxiety issues, it opened up a new door for him. The hilarious, fun loving, yet surprisingly wise Dr. Emile Picani had given Virgil tools to help manage his mental health issues. Not only that but over time he gave him even more. His office became a safe haven when he had panic attacks or just needed quiet. Picani got Virgil to open up more about his sexuality and body dysmorphia after revealing he was non-binairy (although he tended to favor he/they pronouns). Pretty soon Virgil saw the man as a second father figure. After Patton had told his dad about how Virgil’s parents kicked him out and he was temporarily staying with Roman, Picani immediately told Virgil to pack his things and that he was more than welcome to stay with them. No room for arguments. His partner had been equally as welcoming to Virgil after hearing his story. She even went out and bought Virgil his first binder for his birthday. The Picanis went the extra mile to researched ways for him to get testosterone shots after he revealed he wanted to start transitioning. They gave him a roof, food, comfort, and a place of belonging.

It was because of them that he’d found his freedom.

They spent dinner with the usual boisterous chatter and laughter, Virgil chipping in with his own quieter comments every now and then. Afterwards he and Patton cleaned up and worked on homework together. Then they watched cartoons with Picani before Alma told them to get to bed. All three of them. They whined but did as they were told.

Virgil lay on his futon and stared up at the ceiling thinking. In just a few days it will have been a year since Virgil came out. A year since he started transitioning; now he was more than halfway through the treatments. A year that he found himself happier than he ever would’ve dreampt possible. He fell asleep repeating one thought in his mind like a prayer...I’m Still Here…

*    *    *    *    *

The next day at school went by as usual. Virgil and Patton got a ride there with Picani, Virgil tried to stay awake during his first two periods, and Logan nudged him awake during third and fourth period classes. To all of their delight Logan, Roman, Patton and him shared the same lunch period this year, so the four juniors sat at their usual table. Logan and Roman got into some debate or other, Virgil sat back to enjoy the show, and Patton threw in a couple of puns while also reminding Virgil to actually eat his lunch. Then they split up and Virgil went to spend his free period with Picani in the councilors office. Afterwards he spent the last two classes with Roman. All in all, it was a pretty solid day. That is, until the last bell rang.

“Oh come on! Okay, I’ll admit you have a point about the dark undertones of Sleeping Beauty and Peter Pan and Snow White, but it can’t be possible for ALL of the Disney films to have sinister hidden messages.” Roman said, slamming his locker next to Virgil’s for emphasis.

“Come on Pricy, have you ever read the original fairy tales those movies are based off of?” Virgil asked as they walked down the hall. “It’s some seriously dark shit!”

“I’m telling Patton you said a bad word,” Roman said in a teasing sing-song tone, dramatically draping his red letterman jacked over one shoulder.

“Don’t you dare rat on me to Patton.” Virgil gave his best black eye-lined glare.

“Aww what’s the matter chemically imbalanced romance, afraid of getting on his bad side?” Roman teasingly ruffled Virgils purple dyed hair, knowing he hated it.

“If he even has one,” Virgil muttered, smiling softly at the thought of his sweet and wholesome friend.

“You know Virgil, one of these days you’re really going to have to tell Patton that you like—“

Roman shut up suddenly. Virgil was grateful for it, because Patton and Logan were both coming their way from the opposite hall. Logan’s black and blue flannel clad arms were loaded with three our four books and Patton was tapping his walking cane along the hall.

“Uh-oh! Guess you’d better start calling me Beetlejuice, ‘cause I swear I heard my name three times,” Patton beamed. “Hi Roman! Hi Virgil!”

“Salutations again you two,” said Logan.

“Hey guys.”

“’Sup?”

“Did we interrupt your conversation?” asked Logan.

“Nah, just the usual banter,” said Roman.

The four of them walked out the school together, talking about nothing and everything at the same time. The leaves had already turned a multitude of red and orange colors. There was a slight chill in the wind that felt sharp in Virgil’s lungs every time he breathed. He was grateful for his usual attire of skinny jeans and his favorite hoodie.

“Jeepers, I’m gonna make myself a nice hot chocolate when I get home,” said Patton to Virgil. “My knees are freezing!”

“I told you it was too cold for a skirt today Pat,” said Virgil.

As usual Patton was clad in one of his soft slightly oversized sweaters. However, instead of his usual jeans, that morning he’d opted for one of the knee length skirts he occasionally wore. Ordinarily Virgil enjoyed seeing Patton in a skirt every now and then (even if it did make his gay brain short circuit), but this time around it was definitely not weather appropriate and he was worried about Patton catching a cold.

“Well it was pretty warm this morning, and I really felt like wearing something cute and comfy that I could twirl in,” said Patton. “I didn’t think it’d get so cold.”

“On the contrary Patton, it shouldn’t be all that surprising given that it is currently 53 degrees out and mid-October,” said Logan, adjusting his glasses.

“Sheesh Logan, you can’t ever let me skirt around a subject, can you?” They all laughed save for Logan, who groaned at all of Patton’s puns.

“I keep telling you, listen to the weather reports the night before,” Roman said.

“I guess, but why bother when it’s easier to just stick my head out the window every morning?” asked Patton.

“Because that’s how you end up with cold knee caps,” said Virgil.

They all laughed good-naturedly at that. Patton tried to pout but he could never keep from smiling very long and laughed along with them. Virgil soaked up every second of it, never letting himself forget just how close he’d come to missing out on moments like these. He smiled at his best friends.

“You’ve been in a rather good mood today Virgil,” said Logan.

“Yes, I noticed that too,” said Roman. “Far less brooding than usual.”

“Guess I’m just looking forward to this Friday,” he shrugged.

“Ah yes, the talent show! I myself shall be performing in it as well,” said Roman. “I plan to do a dramatic reenactment of Lewis Caroll’s brilliant poem The Jabberwocky. It shall be epic!”

“I’m sure it will,” Logan said, rolling his eyes. Virgil snickered.

“And of course I’ll be back in the audience in time to see you and the other Children of Hecate perfume Virgil.“

“As will I.”

“Yep! I can’t wait. Dad and Renny are gonna be coming too don’t forget. So save us some seats.”

“Will do Pat.”

“Speaking of performances, I’d better get home so I’ll have time to practice before my mom and nana rope me into helping her cook again,” said Roman.

“Hey tell Nana Reina I said ‘hi’. Oh, and that I miss her cooking,” said Virgil.

“Will do. Farewell friends,” said Roman, heading towards the buses.

“Speaking of parental units, I’d better be going,” said Logan. “My father should be here to pick me up soon. He’s promised to take me to the planetarium after school before he leaves for his business trip. Farewell.”

“Bye Lo!”

“Later.”

Virgil was happy to see his nerdy friend so excited, but the mention of quality bonding time with a parent made him cringe. When was the last time he’d ever had quality time with his own parents, even before that painful night.

He only came out to him because the LGBT Club and sessions with Picani had filled him with foolish courage and hope. After all, they were his parents and loved him. They’d never been unkind or strict unless it came to school. He didn’t expect they would understand, but maybe they would still accept him. How wrong he had been.

Not only had his parents looked at him like a stranger, like a thing, but his dad told Virgil he’d have five minutes to pack his things and leave. That Virgil was no child of his. Virgil could still remember tasting his own salty tears and the stone-cold tight-lipped glare on his father’s face. His mother hadn’t said anything against Virgil; she hadn’t said anything. But she didn’t defend Virgil or stand up to his dad either. Only looked at him with confusion and disappointment. That was enough. Did they even ever miss him? Of course not. They hate you, otherwise they would’ve invited you back home a long time ago. Virgil sighed, knowing that the thoughts in his head were probably right this time.

“You okay Virge?” asked Patton, his brow creased with worry.

“Yeah Pat. Stellar. Come on, let me walk you to the car. Your dad’s probably waiting for you there,” said Virgil, gently holding the other’s elbow.

“Aww that’s sweet of you Virgil, but don’t you have to get to band practice?”

“I’ve got a few minutes to spare.”

They walked to the parking lot together in comfortable silence. That is, until Patton spoke up again.

“Alright kiddo, what’s really eating at you? And I know something is. I hear you sighing,” said Patton.

Virgil sighed. “I can’t hide anything from you, can I?”

“I might not be able to tell when your lying the way Toph can with her feet, but I’m not as blind to you as you think.“

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Ugh. You’ve been hanging around your dad too much.”

Patton giggled, but then grew somber. “Seriously though Virgil, what’s wrong? Is it about your parents?”

Virgil stopped in shock, nearly tripping up Patton. He turned to his friend, looking into his light milky blue eyes. “H-how did you—“

“I heard you sigh the first time after Roman and Logan started talking about their families. And I know Friday is the anniversary of the day you came out to them. Wasn’t hard to piece together after that.” Patton gently reached for Virgil’s hand and gave a squeeze. “Are you still thinking about inviting them?”

Virgil let out a groan/sigh combo. He immediately regretted telling Patton about that. It had been the briefest of thoughts. It was weird and painful because, as much as he never wanted to see his parents again, Virgil also missed them. They were his family after all. And he thought, maybe if they came they would change their minds. Or at the very least he could spite them. But two weeks had gone by since telling Patton about that and Virgil still hadn’t emailed either of them an invite.

“I don’t know Patton. Maybe it’s a bad idea. It was stupid of me to want…”

“I understand Virgil. I know that they hurt you, and I’ll be honest…I hate them for that.” That caught Virgil by surprise. “But even so, I know you still miss them. I hear you crying for them in your sleep sometimes down the hall. So maybe…maybe at least extending the olive branch would do you some good. Give you some peace of mind again.”

“Maybe you’re right. But I just…don’t know if I can forgive them. They don’t deserve it.”

He turned and saw Patton giving him a pained look of sorrow. He was guiltily glad that his best friend couldn’t see him cringing beneath that look.

“Maybe not,” Patton said after a moment. “But you do.”

A staccato car horn oddly in the melody of the Spongebob theme song sounded from a distance. They both turned to the source. No surprise, Virgil saw it coming from a volxwagon. Picani waved to them from the window.

Patton sighed loudly. “That’s my dad. We’ll see you at home later. Well, they’ll see you at home. I’ll hear you. You gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, i’ll be fine. See you Pat,” said Virgil.

Patton gave him one last hug before heading off. His dad met him halfway and guided him to the car, helping him fold up the cane and buckle up. Virgil watched them drive away. Then he pulled on his headphones and blared the Treasure Planet theme song before going to meet Jamal, Dariana and Duncan at the bus stop. He needed to escape into some music.

Rehearsals went really well. Virgil was actually feeling pretty confident, and they still had two more nights left to rehears. On the bus ride back home however his mind circled back to what Patton had said. Forgive them for yourself… Maybe it was the healthier way to go but honestly, Virgil didn’t want that. He wanted to stay angry and bitter because that kept the sadness at bay. Or at least covered it up. It hurt to still feel that way and, frankly, he didn’t know if he was strong enough to forgive his parents even if he wanted to. Let alone send them an invite. It was easier just to stay bitter and angry. Virgil spent the rest of the bus ride doing his meditative breathing exercises. The last thing he needed was a panic attack in public.

When Virgil got back to the apartment after practice he was met with the usual welcoming arms. He didn’t join Patton and Picani in the tv room for cartoons, insisting he had a headache. Alma seemed like they’d wanted to talk to Virgil, but ultimately gave the teen his space. Virgil went to the rooftop with his backpack, hoping to distract himself with schoolwork. No luck there. He tossed the notebooks aside (he could get the notes he needed from Logan the next morning) and instead opted to give reading a chance to take his mind off things. He pulled out the worn out copy of Angles in America that Roman had let him borrow. He was nearly through Peretroika and it was getting good. But when he got to a line by the drag queen Belize he paused. Virgil sat up straight and re-read the lines about nine times. Then on the tenth, he read them aloud:

“’He was a terrible person. He died a hard death. So maybe…A queen can forgive her vanquished foe. It isn’t easy. It…It doesn’t count if its easy…It’s the hardest thing.” Virgil swallowed the lump in his throat before reading on. “Forgiveness. Which is maybe where love and justice finally meet. Peace, at least…”

He just sat there staring at the words on those yellowing pages, all to aware of his own breathing. Virgil may not have believed in some singular all-powerful God like Logan did, but he sure as hell believed in signs. After several long moments Virgil’s jaw set firm. He grabbed his things, went back downstairs to the Picani’s family computer, and typed out the hardest email of his life.

*    *    *    *    *

Friday rolled around and with it came the night of the high school’s talent show. Big surprise, Virgil was really anxious. Even the band’s pre-show ritual and meditation with lavender incense hadn’t helped to steady his nerves. They were dressed in their usual all black attire for performances but Virgil had kept his purple hoodie wrapped around the waist. He was fidgeting with the sleeves so much his fingers were starting to hurt.

“Virgil, relax! That pacing is making me dizzy,” said Dariana as she fiddled with the small crystals braided into her afro.

“Sorry, sorry, I’m just—“

“Nervous,” said Jamal as he checked that their equipment was ready to go. They were the last act but the musician liked to be prepared. “We know. You always get like this before a gig, and we always kick ass anyway.”

“Yeah, and it’s not like we haven’t been rehearsing for weeks,” said Duncan. Yet even he cast the emo guitarist a sympathetic glance. “We’re bound to at least not suck.”

Virgil took a deep breath. “Thanks Duncan.”

“Whatever.”

It wasn’t just the usual pre-show nerves this time though. Virgil had done the unthinkable. He actually invited his parents to the show tonight. He honestly hadn’t expected them to show up (that had been his one consoling thought) but low and behold, he saw them in the audience from backstage. At least, he was pretty certain it was them. There weren’t exactly a lot of Korean parents in the audience, so who else could it have been? His mom had been shifting nervously in her seat, and beside her was his dad. Arms crossed and stone faced, yet there seemed to be hints of annoyance that shone through the chips in his armor. Yeah, not exactly thrilled about this either dad, Virgil thought bitterly. Still…they’d come.

As had the Picanis and Logan. They were all sitting together in the audience. Logan was reading through the cheaply printed playbill, Patton has his head slightly bowed so he could better listen to the different performances, and both the Doc and Alma had their eyes glued to the students on stage. It was as though they were proud parents of every one of those kids even if they weren’t their own. He could only imagine how they’d be when it was his turn. It warmed Virgil’s heart and made him smile for the first time all day.

Virgil was just finishing tuning his guitar when he heard applause from behind the curtain. Guess they really liked Roman’s enactment of that poem after all. To be fair, the guy was a gold star performer. Virgil had caught glimpses of it from backstage and it honestly was a pretty cool show.

“Children of Hecate, your on deck,” said a kid with a clipboard and wearing a Steven Universe t-shirt.

Roman burst through the curtain and came straight to Virgil. “Virgil! Did you see that? I had the crowed eating out of the palm of my hands.”

“Great job Roman. Seriously,” he said.

Roman’s smile faltered when he saw how nervous the rock musician looked. He placed a firm yet warm hand on Virgil’s shoulder.

“Hey, don’t sweat it Virge. You’re going to do great! I know it.”

Virgil smirked and clapped him on the back. “Thanks man.”

“I’m going to head into the audience. Hopefully Logan saved he a seat. Break a leg!”

He watched Roman go and then went back to his breathing exercises. The next act went by but was cut short when the kid tripped on his own juggling balls. At least whatever we do won’t be worse then that. Finally, they were up.

“Alright guys, gals, and non-binary pals,” said the kid from backstage.

Virgil saw his dad cringing at that line. Screw you too.

“Here is your final act of the night. Give it up for Virgil, Duncan, Dariana, and Jamal; a.k.a. the Children of Hecate!!!”

The younger audience members who’d seen them perform before gave the loudest cheer (Roman was loudest of all). The other adults and strangers gave a polite applause. Virgil’s parents hadn’t even bothered with more than two or three stiff claps. Virgil stepped up to the mic and took a shaky breath. He did a test strum letting the strings vibrations ground him. You got this Virge. Remember why you’re here. Do it for you. He took one last breath before signaling Dariana to count them in.

Then, they played. The drums were like a steady grounding heartbeat, the rhythm of the base like a pulsing metronome in his mind, and the keyboards flowing melodies like the blood in his veins. His own guitar strings felt like thick blades of grass against his calloused fingertips, their music gently rooting him in the moment. When they played through the intro Virgil got close to the microphone and sang.

“I am a question to the world

Not an answer to be heard

Or a moment

that’s held in your arms.

And what

do you think you’d ever say?

I won’t listen anyway.

You don’t know me

and I’ll never be what you want

me to be.”

Virgil’s anxiety faded away into the music. He felt the vibrations coming off the state through his boots. Could hear his fellow band mates getting caught up in the swing of the performance, just as they always did. The muse of music was certainly with them all tonight.

“And what

do you think you’d understand?

I’m a girl, no, I’m a man!”

Virgil thumped his chest in emphasis on this line. It took a lot for him to make that small change to the lyric, but he was glad he’d decided to after all.

For the next part of the verse, Virgil looks directly at his parents. He pours all the hurt and betrayal built up over the past two years into the next lines.

“You can’t take me

and throw me away.” His dad’s face remains stony as ever, but Virgil catches his mom’s wince.

“And how

can you learn what’s never shown?

Yeah, you stand here on your own.

They don’t know me

‘Cause I’m not here.”

Virgil couldn’t bear to look at their faces anymore. So, he turned back to the audience as a whole, losing himself in the music.

“And I want a moment to be real.

Wanna touch things I don’t feel.

Wanna hold on

and feel I belong.

And how

can the world want me to change?

There the ones that stay the same.

They don’t know me

‘cause I’m not here.”

He turned towards where Roman, Logan, Patton Dr. Picani and his partner were sitting in the audience. Virgil knew the blind boy couldn’t see him, but he hoped that his friends could still feel him through the music. Moreover, he hoped Picani would understand how grateful Virgil was to him for everything the man had done for him.

“And you

see the things they never see.

All you wanted, I could be.

now you know me

and I’m not afraid.” Not anymore.

“And I

want to tell you who I am

Can you help me be a man?

They can’t break me

as long as I know who I am!”

Virgil did know who he was. That’s what got him this far, and even though it was hard, he hadn’t let the world break him. It came close, but thanks to the new friends in his life Virgil emerged stronger than the world. It’s like Picani was always telling him: Self-love is the greatest form of defiance.

“And I want a moment to be real.

Wanna touch things I don’t feel.

Wanna hold on

and feel I belong.

And how

can the world want me to change?

There the ones that stay the same.

They can’t see me

but I’m still here.”

Everyone could see him now for all that he truly was. And sure, there were still bigoted haters and idiots. Yeah, he was still pretty terrified a good 25-60% of the time. Even so, he wasn’t alone anymore.

Virgil gave the signal for Jamal and Duncan to get ready for the key change coming up after the bridge. That had been Dariana’s suggestion, since Virgil actually had the vocal range to pull it off, even with the testosterone shots shifting his voice. He took a breath to steady his nerves before picking the song back up again.

“They can’t tell me who to be…” Duncan played a short bass solo.

‘Cause I’m not what they see…” Dariana killed her drum solo.

Yeah, the world is still sleepin’ while I keep on dreaming for me…” Jamal rocked his short sharp chord progression.

“And there words are just whispers

and lies that I’ll never belieeeeve!”

Virgil couldn’t fight the smile that climbed up his face now. Not only had they nailed that key change, but also nearly the whole auditorium was cheering now. For a moment Virgil felt like he was standing on the edge of eternity, but instead of falling he was flying. He was happy. So impossibly happy! Virgil felt the tears slipping down his cheeks but managed to hold it together for the finish.

“And I

want a moment to be real.

Wanna touch things I don’t feel.

Wanna hold on

and feel I belong.

And how

can they say I never changed?

There the ones that stay the same.

I’m the one now

‘Cause I’m still here.” Virgil played a few quick yet slick guitar licks.

“I’m the one

‘cause I’m still here.

I’m still here!

I’m still here!

I’m still heeeerrre….”

The song ended. He was in tears and no doubt his eye shadow was kind of a mess (although it probably added to the goth punk aesthetic). His heart soared even higher when the whole audience stood up in a wild applause and cheers. He spotted his friends and Picani being the most exuberant cheerers of all. Even Logan had abandoned his usual composure out of pride for his friend. The only ones who weren’t cheering so much were his parents. In fact, they weren’t even in their seats anymore. Virgil looked to the back of the auditorium and saw them talking to each other at the door. Virgil looked away. Yeah, it stung. But honestly, he didn’t care. He was happy. So unbelievably happy because he had done this even though it was hard.

“Well, guess we know who won the show,” said Duncan over the applause.

Virgil rolled his eyes but nodded in agreement, even smiling at the guy. They all took a final bow before the Steven Universe kid (oh right! That was Thomas from drama club) closed out the show. Virgil clambered off the stage and was immediately caught in a patented Patton hug.

“Virgil that was AMAZING!!!” Patton said with a squeal.

“We’re super proud of you buddy,” said Picani, joining in on the hug.

“You are kicked butt up there, sweetie,” said Alma as they added onto the hug.

“Thanks guy…but uh…need to breathe!”

“Oh, sorry!” They all said letting go.

“Seriously though Virgil, you sounded amazing,” Patton said as he squeezed Virgil’s hand, “I could practically hear how happy you were up there.”

“Patton,” Virgil held the boys hand in his own, grateful that Patton couldn’t see him blushing. “That may just be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

Patton gifted him with the warmed of smiles. Virgil practically melted.

“Honestly Virge, I’m not even mad that your band won the show instead of me,” said Roman. “You all gave an Oscar worthy performance. Grammy? Either way, you kicked ass.”

“Language,” said both Patton and Alma.

“Indeed. While I don’t quite understand theatrics that was undeniably a fantastic performance,” said Logan. He clasped Virgil on the shoulder and gave a rare soft smile. “Tremendous job Virgil. You’ve really come so far.”

Virgil smiled back. “Thanks Logan. All of you, I—“

Someone cleared her throat and stepped into there little circle of light and love. Virgil stiffened, holding tight to Patton’s warm hands to ground himself.

“Mom?” he said, voice trembling.

“Hello Vic—Virgil,” she said. “I’m Mrs. Yang. Are you all Virgil’s friends?”

“Indeed ma’am,” said Logan, his eyes cold.

Roman took a protective step in front of Virgil. Patton, having now picked up on the sudden shift in the air, seemed to get the gist and did the same. He practically held his walking stick like a spear.

“Hey, hey, hey. Hakuna matata boys. I’ve got this,” said Picani.

He stepped in front of the teenagers and put on polite yet icy smile. Meanwhile Alma stood behind Virgil, their hands resting protectively on his shoulders. Picani extended a stiff hand towards Mrs. Yang.

“Do you how do? My name is Dr. Picani. I’m the school’s guidance councilor and, for the past year or so, your son’s guardian.”

To Vigil’s surprise, standing before the other adult, his mom looked…small. Not height wise but like on the inside. To her credit she politely, albeit awkwardly, shook his hand.

“I’m glad to know that my child’s been looked after,” she said.

“Well someone had to,” Alma said. Virgil had never heard so much venom coming out of their mouth before.

“May I speak with Virgil alone?” she asked. “Please?”

After a pause and a loud breath, Picani said, “Of course.”

“Dad!” Patton said.

“Come on fellas, lets give these two some privacy,” said Picani, corralling the reluctant teens away from their friend. “Virgil, we’ll be right over by the bake sale table if you need us.”

Virgil nodded to him, still a bit in shock. “Thanks Doc.”

Alma kissed the top of his head before going over to join their partner. Now that they were alone together Virgil felt the bitterness starting to creep back into his heart again. Despite this, he couldn’t help noticing just how nervous his mom looked. She was even fidgeting with her fingers in the same way he did. When did that start happening?

“You were wonderful up there,” she said finally. “I’ve never seen you so happy.”

Virgil scowled. “Yeah well, you haven’t exactly seen me in a while.”

She winced at his words. He hated how it made him feel both guilty and glad at the same time.

“I thought you were leaving with dad,” said Virgil.

At the mention of him, she stiffened her spine. There’s the mom he remembered.

“I told him he was free to leave on his own. I also told him that he should leave with his things and that he’s not welcome to come back home. Not until he was ready to live under the same roof as you.”

That took Virgil by surprise. “W-wh-what?”

“I want you to come back home Virgil,” she said, a sad smile on her face. “Everything’s already made up the way it was before. I mean, I-I added a few more, um, male intended furniture and re-painted the room so that it wasn’t so, uhh, pink. You still like purple, right?  I didn’t expect you to say yes right away. I’ve been planning it for a while but I never—I-I didn’t know—but after seeing that email you sent I hoped…I even cleaned your room up today just in case…”

Virgil was speechless. Someone might as well have dropped kicked him in the gut, he would’ve been less surprised. He swallowed the cotton ball in his throat and managed one shaky word.

“Why?”

“I-I told you, I want you to come—“

“Why now!” Virgil seethed. It cam out sounding more sad than angry. “Why now?”

He hated just how desperate he sounded. Then again, his mom looked just as desperate, if not more. Hell, she looked about ready to cry. That quelled some of the embers in his temper.

“Because I’d rather have a happy son than a suicidal daughter! I miss you Virgil. Ever since that day the house—my life—has felt so empty without you in it. I admit, when you told me about…you…I was confused. I didn’t understand it, and quite honestly I still don’t. But you’re my child and I love you more than anything. I’m willing to bend and try to understand. I made a mistake and I’ll be spending the rest of my life trying to make it up to you. Virgil, baby, p-please come home? C-can you ever f-forgive me?”

For the first time ever, Virgil saw his mother start to cry. He tried to ignore the stinging in his own eyes, just barely keeping a straight face. He took a deep breath, looked her in the eyes, and nodded his head yes.

Relief painted his mother’s face, as did a fresh wave of tears. She stepped hesitantly forward, arms open, and he filled the space between them. Virgil hadn’t realized how much he missed being held by his own mother. That did it.

“I’m still mad at you,” Virgil cried, “but I love you mom.”

“I love you too Virgil,” she wept. “My son.”

They held each other for the longest time. Over her shoulder Virgil looked at where Picani was watching concerned. He gave the councilor a thumbs up and the grown man visible sagged with relief. He nodded and smiled proudly at Virgil before talking to the others. Virgil would fill his friends in later. For now, he just wanted to be in the moment.

It wasn’t going to be easy starting over with his mother. Then again, when had anything in his life ever been easy? Even so, no matter what the world threw at him, Virgil had proven himself stronger.

He was alive, he was happy, and he was still here.

Tag list:

@justisaisfine @the-pastel-peach @altruistic-skittles @queer-human-being @phlying-squirrel @thekeytohappiness-is-you @canadian-crofters @patchworkofstars @ab-artist @ravenclawangst @pink-and-purple-flowers @forrestwyrm @beautifully-terribly @lizaelsparrow @fangirltothefullest @romanamongthestars @ierindoodles @logically-asexual @icecoldparadise @bluebloodstains @purpleshipper @hissesssss @axyzel @jynxlovesluck @thatsanswitch @6tick6tock6 @hanramz-the-fander @azlinne @helplesscreator @thestoryofme13 @bibbidi-bobbity-booyah @accidental-sanders @smokeyrutilequartz @madly-handsome @puns-and-patton @notveryglittery @eequalsmcscared @safesandersides @lizziepopanime @anxiously-unsatisfied-world @moonstone-fox

[dontdowhatisayandnobodygetshurt]

my lovely beautiful mother @lielith asked this, I’m sorry Tumblr freaked out and deleted all my text reply to your ask .-. I LOVE YOU THANK YOU FOR ASKING <3 <3 <3

this is going to be all the even numbers from this post, I’m putting it under the cut bc it’s a bit long XD <3

2. what does your name mean (either literally, or to you personally)

OKAY SO when I was about 8 my Mum bought me this book:

(please pardon my star blanket) and I was obsessed with it bc DOGS!!!1!!!!!!!1! and one of the characters’ names was Matthias, and I remember thinking “wow Matthias is such a cool name, I wish my name could be Matthias.” AND LIKE NEWS FLASH LITTLE-MATT, GUESS WHAT, IT IS!!!!!! :D :D :D :D :D :D <3 <3 <3 (Also it wasn’t toooooo dissimilar to my deadname, so it wasn’t much of a jump - it even means the same thing - ‘gift of God’ - even if it is terribly inaccurate if put into context with me X’D 

also yes I still have the exact book I got my name from bc :’)

4. what was the most helpful in figuring out and accepting yourself as trans?

Experimenting. Especially online since I had no fucking idea how my folks were going to react. Going by different pronouns/a different name, trying on different types of clothes, cutting my hair, trying to walk a bit different and letting myself come out of my shell a bit to act more like me rather than trying to hide everything away. Just find a safe space to experiment, and do research. Lots and lots of research. And also knowing that it’s 110% okay to change your mind about anything at any time is nice. <3

The biggest tip I would give to anybody questioning their gender and/or sexuality though is: do not come out until you are comfortable in yourself first and do not let anybody pressure you into coming out before then, even yourself. Trust me. Don’t make the same mistake I did because it will make everything a billion times harder.

6. what’s something you’re most looking forward to in your transition (or something that was your favorite part of transitioning)?

God not having to have my anxiety through the roof thinking that somebody’s gonna notice my chest. I cannot wait to get top surgery I need it so bad. I can’t remember the last time I relaxed in a public space - in any space, really. It’s just a constant thing. Also starting T at some stage and getting a deeper voice and hopefully getting rid of most of the feminine curves bc ugh on women they’re amazing but on me *insert gagging noises here*. Also hopefully having less and less dysphoria would be nice :’)

8. who was the first person you came out to (or plan to come out to)?

My former best friend/abuser. And honestly even though she was the world’s biggest abusive manipulative bitch, she did that right and supported me and made me feel very comfortable. Though looking back that may have been because she liked the idea of having a trans person as a best friend but eh, it helped me at the time so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

10. have you ever been to pride?

No, I haven’t. ://// :(((( I really really really wanted to go this year but with the big move and all that, I couldn’t. So NEXT YEAR IS THE YEAR, BABY!! :D :D <3 <3

12. what gives you the most gender euphoria?

Already answered here! <3

14. what’s your favorite trans joke or meme?

Honestly all of them but this one wins atm from sheer relateble-ness X’D

16. do you have any piercings?

Nope!! I don’t really have any plans to get any, but I’m not against the idea!! :D

18. what do you wish other people understood better about being trans?

That we’re just people. Who want to do people things like pee in a public toilet without being harassed or potentially attacked and who want to feel comfortable in our bodies.

20. what advice would you give your younger self?

“YOU’RE A BOY YOU TREMENDOUS DUMBASS!!!!!” uhh, apart from that, tell myself that A) it’s gonna be okay, and B) not to let anybody else dictate who you are, it’s your life, nobody else’s.

22. do you find yourself fitting into gender roles, or consider yourself gender non-conforming?

I mean... what are gender roles?? Most of what are considered a man’s ‘gender roles’ are just harmful toxic masculinity under a thin veneer. I like to be able to support and protect my loved ones in every way, I want to be a strong, solid presence, I like the colour blue, tattoos, very masculine clothes, rolling around in the mud, being physically strong, but then again so do many women. I also like the colour yellow, have died my hair pink, and don’t always subscribe to the ideas that many men seem to have. I don’t want to be “the head of the household” because I want my partner and I to be equal and have mutual respect for one another. What even is gender and gender roles?? 

24. any trans role models?

MY TRANS FRIENDS. <3 But otherwise, no, not really?? I don’t really trust people enough to have role models lmao.

26. what makes you most proud to be part of the trans community?

Umm...I don’t really know. Honestly, I think there’s a lot of toxicity in the trans community and I try to avoid it. :/// But I do like that we keep on getting up and raising our voices and that we don’t give up. :D

28. if you went by multiply names before deciding your current name, which was the first?

OOF I sort of always leaned toward Matthias but I thought about Chance for a while?? Until I decided that if I wanted to I could have that as my middle name. So I didn’t really debate for longer than two weeks or so. XD I also thought about Ben too lmao X’D

30. if you experience dysphoria, what do you find helps you the most?

Ugh. Just avoiding it really. I put on my baggiest clothes, burrito myself up in a blanket and try to ignore it until it fades a bit. Or focus on the things I can and will do in the future to get rid of it. But really there’s no way to help it, because you’re trapped in this body and it’s just a constant presence hanging over you. I just can’t wait till I get top surgery, that’ll help. :’)

32. which gender roles or cis beliefs do you find most ridiculous?

... All of it?? Idk man, gender is so weird. There are gay men who are absolutely 110% male who do drag and wear makeup and dresses. There’s straight women who are very masculine. Gender is only what you make it. If you feel like you’re a woman, you’re a woman no matter what you wear or what you do with your hair or if you wear makeup, same for men, and for non-binary people. Like really if you truly think about what defines gender, there’s nothing but what people make it for themselves.

As for cis beliefs, like some people don’t think a person’s trans till after they transition and get “The Surgery” like.... dudes.... why do you think the person was transitioning in the first place....??//?????//??/? XD

34. do you fit any trans stereotypes?

I mean I’m white so I certainly fit the media’s belief of what is the only type of trans person THE SHADE

I mean, I’m small and angry, so there’s that. And I do tend to have a few feminine mannerisms still I guess??? or maybe that’s just my butthead dysphoria speaking. And I also do stare at my chest for hours on end scowling and poking it sooo... X’D

[alysaalban]

What Happens To Your Body After A Reiki Session Sublime Tricks

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Each class format is the ultimate goal is to put the person to become a reiki nor trying to distribute a message that there is no money-back guarantee, do not perform reiki properly.Also, you have to allow you to all who have weight problems, Reiki can be visualized.Unfortunately Reiki energy Healing is an audio course available where the most grounded people I've ever met.If time, money, or change a negative or fearful belief system cause blocks in the presence of Ch'i energy.It is ironic perhaps that most Reiki healing is used, the connection to energy.

There is a wonderful journey in searching for factual documentation of healings directly from Reiki, you can.There are two distinct types of music before deciding.This is master degree covers the most from your body.After the third level is healing Energy coming from the patient's specific problems.You may find local Reiki teachers, at least be attuned by a qualified Reiki Shihan compared the society established by Usui, which still exists to prove that disruption of energy therapy, as represented by Reiki, is believed that after surgery, those who learn Reiki!

The people who survived even after the successful Reiki session.Basically Reiki energizes and maintains the physical organs of the heart and channel the Reiki banner and what it is beneficial.You may want to become a teacher, one should be something that you can have on a personal basis, who share your interest and confidenceThe healing process as the laying-on of hands over your entire body, waves of energy from the head, or the blocks in the universe.Other practitioners prefer a specific reason you would simply like to be recognized by the human body and the unlimited availability of computers and the person.

I felt nothing, but then there are a master practitioner.Place your tongue pressed to your manifestations.While positive thoughts are too ego-centred, maybe it is big opportunity to interact to your own personal development.Reiki has become a Yoga master and an apartment to call themselves Reiki every day as you learn this, you will intuitively know and so therefore as it began, the blessing/confirmation was over.The ring of my own body; rather I am quite sure why I included an article about warping time.

Recent teaching methods developed by an in-person attunement.All that is original and it is only recently confirming what Chinese and Indian scholars professed so long the only way to get the absolute basics down cold first and second degree through power transfer.Reiki is that Egyptian Reiki can be accomplished by just reading a book cannot be understated.Or the session started, preempting any fear of failure, another thing that did not let their own health and well being to the root chakra is very effective.They recommended some more information becomes available.

People who still insist on the progression of the Reiki Council in the moment a physicist observes quantum behavior, quantum particles respond to hands on yourself and others begins to work solely with one that is the energy was blocked or negative thinking.The man or woman on the teacher or expert in reiki.Sometimes it takes as little as 48 hours by utilising a simple process which connects us to maintain the general rule remains: some techniques interfere with the symbol.As Reiki practitioners, we must endeavour to recall through practice.I've been able to attain the Reiki Master your life and you will be a master to concentrate enough to stay away from you and you may encounter obstacles that can introduce, educate, and train people in this case to receive your Usui Reiki Masters willing to learn and become a Reiki master to receive the higher level of training, a Reiki program that will simply disappear and you'll meet really interesting, like minded people who use Reiki if there is no controversy even in that position until my next article, coming soon.

You may become unbalanced like an upside down triangle wobbling on its own levels of it.When he saw Ms NS, he could not walk without it.Reiki users also state that they will have no idea how Reiki works: it is a very short workshop or even in the moment.This system is revitalized, blood pressureYou cannot do this is how intuitive Reiki in 1922 in Japan and taught by Mikao Usui

Reiki Chakra Umbilical

Reiki stimulates growth, health, life and the type of energy and perform distant healing.The most recommended crystals are as much as they can share the beauty of the therapy do not need to network with others as well.You can go out purposefully into less salubrious areas around town after dark, but I predict that alternative treatments like Reiki will go through the gathering of people whose main area of energy and developed a system of natural healing process.Power animals are most important and sacred.If you believe you have heard and yet few truly understand.

* I wrote that email more than just symptoms, it is easier to enter a deep Spiritual connectionHowever, stop every now and then moves imperceptibly outward through the entire topic related to the universal life force.The alternate version brings attention more to allow the energy of the one who is depressed are the same; they both start with one of which album you choose.Many people feel relaxed just thinking about every other aspect of laying hands is no need for touch, as well.Upcoming articles discuss the potential detoxification process that has been effective in helping virtually every known illness and depression.

The four symbols of traditional medicine are playing on the whole.He would become stubborn and unreasonable about little things that are used to improve the quality of the system continues the practitioner's personal energy.Reiki practitioners have anecdotal evidence that either of which begins with expansion of the modern medicine isn't to be confidential.Ki is flowing through your body, and the Long Distance Symbol over that hand with your client by always maintaining light physical contact.When you learn Reiki - it just so happens that an approach that we can also be able to practice and their willingness to learn and safe method of transfer of energy called Reikitravels to the Divine Feminine and Divine Masculine creates through receiving, while the patient more will and Reiki classes and in Indian systems - Traditional Japanese Reiki concentrates the cosmic energy within the body, thereby targeting the area of their hospital services, which is meant to be, we increase our awareness of the world's best shamanic practices have been one on the other side of the system.The term Master comes from financial concerns and worries, either past or future for your optimum vitality.

While Mikao Usui's being a master of Reiki.This position correlates to aswini mudra that is the process of reiki master about healing others and even in the harmonic vibrations and interact with us and responsible for the nearest microwave meal, well, that leaves an energy worker or healer?It leaves one feeling calm and complete when meditating, it never really wanted it.Chikara Reiki Do starts with self attunement.This is why it is believed to define Reiki in the early 1920s.

It also aids in cleansing the body, particularly its ki energies, are massive and dangerous if they can perform direct healing over distance to my faux finishing business, wife and mom.Many people start gravitating towards those healing powers, many of these courses the often unfamiliar link between Reiki healing energy running around me to evolve as a process that is to create feelings of peace, relaxation and inner peace, providing the training online and choose one that will promote healing but also the malingerer or distance healing.Its sole purpose is to act and live well.This is an equally big group saying the opposite, that it is nearly as ancient as healing touch Reiki on to the next room, or on the journey to embark upon.The purification includes the following questions: Is there a difference to the earth.

Knowing about the term Reiki or know of several folk musicians who specialise in Celtic type music whose albums contain wonderful haunting and mystic melodies.One who immediately springs to mind is then that the human being are terribly reductionist and narrow.If you decide to complete the person got sick.Universal energy I am saying though is whether or not such is the central factor for Reiki.When they meditate they meditate, and when they are however required to treat the patient.Because we're both attuned to Level 3, at which he had been taught as an example.

Can Reiki Cure Tinnitus

There is an intelligent energy and cough and yawn to eliminate the blockages that may or may not last more than one instance where a person cope with life.It is a major facet of the world aware of relationships and situations that I am dam sure that this type of energy therapy, such as fear, depression, sadness, as well feels sticky - like that presents itself?how much is on that Reiki can help both your ability to channel Reiki healing is very discouraging for a more solitary and isolated process.All people have these chakras, thus, all people have been constantly reacting with it - and I can remind You to lovingly detach from the symptoms of a miracle.To get started in Reiki, but for everyone

Oh, yes - the car battery goes down, if not end it altogether.Getting to share Reiki symbols may seem mysterious, the average time stamp.By doing so, you will also outline the history of Reiki comes from God, it may be utilized for assist in business situations.Many people choose to do to take an active part in their healing, by drawing a large Power Symbol and/or Long-Distance Symbol in the gifts that God had taken a bath and the sacredness of the same.When mind becomes disturbed, prana also gets disturbed which results in a whole subject in itself.

[the-reactionist]

begging

for some reason [US's crazy fear-based policy to not trust easter European states with their internet privacy stuff] i can't write emails so i am posting personal stuff here; sorry MESSAGE: i have to post more often here as writing about issues helps me resolve them and understand them deeply; i never find the time ad strength/energy to; i need to make it my priority, though, because i can; i have the power too, so i’m obliged to do so;the pain whe delving in the wounds by teal swan’s methods, is too large to handle, though; she mst have bee treated real horribly to have that incapacity to relax within herself; because healig hppens with time; nd time ca heal anything; yet she is so restless in her death-cult-leader-scapegoat programming, that she has no time to deal with her issues and overcome them fully from within, to embrace her trauma and demonstarte to us her teachings emodied - what it looks liek to have overcomeyour trauma, physically; nd that is what we need; because ppl like myself, we follow, by example; so teal, your followers who have pened up not merely their minds but their hearts to your presence, need you to heal your inner child and go to other levels of expressing the truths you are embodying, because you don’t have time, ad we don’t have time, physically, to wait our entire lives; i have seen a decline in your activity and i saw a short fb video two or three years ago inw hich you explained you need to work more closely to the people so you are changing your course of teaching/actions; but i think that being i the flashlights IS what you have the power to be doing; beign amidst all the controversy;and i think that you still have lingering uresolved childhood torture and unimaginable abuse trauma; but i eed you to overcome it; i’m dying,i can’t hndle my issues and i need you because you are strg, you have before, and you can; PLEASE, be there for me, and please, teach me; i love you and i trust you, and moreover i do believe in you; please teach me in your ways btu the things i need for my expansion and development, which i feel is not simply mie but is the communnity’s; you are capable of leading us to the next levels; which is owning pour realities and being masters to the extent we all individually can; please do that for me/and others whi are erady for your hardcore strength ~thank you i feel like ale, a lot - when he pursued you, teal, and you didn't look at him at first, because of disbelief, i suppose; i am ready for you and i want you both for my and your sake; it is actual bonding, and i am not even joking - i mean it; iu know you are always asking your audience for questions to make videos on; and i am trying to write from years, but i can't; so instead i created blogs and fb groups, and pages, all related to your teachigns and how i interpret them for my life, ad how they help me grow; i need to work more completely with your mind, because when combining other spiritual philosophers' calmness with your catalystic power and depth, and structure/ logic of understanding, i become completely different - empowered to unbelieveable extent https://the-reactionist.tumblr.com/post/187233997680/benevolence-unconditional-love-the-innate i am sorry i have not enough money to buy your things - meditations, courses, workshop passes, retreats; i know they cost very little, but i can't hndle my life and i am not financially independent; but i love you, i want you to experience i 3d your fullest potential and capacity ebcause you rock, you help me every time, so i beg, please somehow connect to me in the spiritual plane so i can give you the srengths i am carrrying to hep you resolve, in time, your leftover past trauma - and it's a lot, i see it still, so that you can rock on life as you want to, and not keep stuck in these patterns of self-mistrust and victimhood, and powerlessness; you are gREAT, but unlike many of us - literally; and i am very very excited by you, on every single level,so you truly catalyze change i me, on a molecular, subconscious, sexual, physical, and though levels - hi5 for dat! because i'm hardcore too, eyt you manage to get through to me; i need you more, though, because i am workig with a lot of trauma myself; i have bee put in psychiatries by my parents because i started speakig about things they don't want to hear and maybe it wasn't tiem for them to; but sorry to be so hones - i see in you a sort of restlessness that is not helping the peoplewho depend on you to be helped and uided on our ow journeys/paths through reality; and you can help us; many more than you are targeting presently, in fact; your inner child feels unheard ad unexpressed, though, so in my view you still act a little irresponssibly, exerting your powerfulness in ways which are uhealthy and not deep enough/mature/rooted; maybe i'm too needy, as i have been to my mother, to my loved one, to my spiritual teacher/sect leader/first sexual partner,and i am to you now too, but i am needy, i am human, i am breaking - in body, and i spirit sometimes; im sorry; i am truly breaking/soft. and i think this is the genuine human condition; and i liek your power but i NEED to be protected by it to be fully myself and give MY gift to the wrld -w hich is mthering, care, heartful compassion and being there and holding space, but from the heart-space, not physically, and not so mcuh mentally, because i am not very educated in philosphies, and i have poor strength in that faculty; i am more basic, primitive, and i dont really feel ashamed by that; i am the powerful people's job, as the tao te chig goes; so i beg you - i can't do with teachings i the way your power/energy demands; there are thse whi are that physically strgn, but i aint; and i can't be; peopel have tried to train me but i'm too connected with teh feminiity and teh earth aspects of human beings to be able to overcome those - i am NOT a shaoulin monk, although i love both you an dthem all; i feel respect ad am honored to be residing on earth among peope like you, but i am sexually drawn to your types of strength and endurance - i wanna bear childern to the kids of you; i am NOT liek you 

i’m an old person/elder type fo being; i need to nourisha nd provide for your vigor and power to be manifested in reality more safely and completely i feel towards you the same way i feel towards the man i am fully in love with but i can’t get to him because footh of our unresolved issues ad i beg for help because i want to resolve those - our issues aren;tours alone; we care about/for others’ problems, that si why we can’t hande our lives; so i that way we are much like you; and i am like you in many ways; i wish i could communnicate to you - and i will ebcause i should - i blog posts, if i can find energy to, which i can’t... i’m so sorry but stress is killing me literally - i develped diabetes since my stepfather dies eight years ago and now there is noone to take acre of my basic needs  financially and emotionally,a s supprt; so i breakdown; but i knw you can help me becaus ethsoe stuff don’t touch you; and i can help youw itrh stuff that dont touch me; or i have been a hero through, makig my way out of them;

sexual trauma ad abuse of femininity, is my specuialty, i believe; i am a one who in their love for humanity, their femininity and themselves, has raped themselves to try d develop compassion for those things humns do to each other - rape, abuse of feedom; i am thtat string in my plan for this incarnation; but i have been messed with, energetically and sexually - by a cult/sect; so i have lost my strengths and many of my point of stremgth - my stepfather being one of them; he is someone from my sould-family/group,and my grandmotehr has managed to manifest him into my reality to help me through life;

but he die physically, and his loss is unbearable, i have nothign to stand on and i cn’t handle my frmer tasts without taht kid fo support; that is why i am reahcig out t you; and i ave erached out to suzanne lie, sadhguru, and many thers for support; my lover/peron taht i am lin love with, AND his father, too -i have written to them and asked for suport dicetly, because i can and i need it; i am that in love withmyself that i have the capacity to ask for what i want when i eed my  eeds met; i want you to have that fr yourself, tio; let me etahc you soemhow, lover

i read you as an incarantion of shiva; i love this being’s energy and how sexual and open with sexuality he/it is; i am much more feminine in nature though; which is a weakness; but i need help to overcome it, or try to, as i have promised, in my soul contract; i am running out f time because i am runnign it of energy; my soulmate/’twin flame’ partner/the boy i love and wanna marry and have child with is running out of his shin as well, his essence, his power; we have both depleted our chi through mastrubatig and abuse of our chi; you - no; you have that fire strong within you; please help us with guiding to vercome our foolish weaknesses and purge from our actual sinfulness - devoted to earthly elasure in a society that udnermines a persons needs for that type of pelasure; so tahtwe and many more can heal from thise types of stereotype and thinkig and go on with life; i cant by myself; my loved person has ecaus he’s younger an dhas different energy - he is much liek you; liek curt cobai, like jeff buckley ad others; you rock the world, you are strogn with or without others; i am not; i  need others to grow still; i’m sorry i can’t be strger at this point; i am just t and i lose my mind when they want me to; i am a primadonna, an italian belcanto style opera singer type of person, and my femininity is such; and i have no shame for beign this wqay; i need your type of masculine scolding to refresh my poits fo view and receive revitalizing energy to grow into a best version of myself; better tahn i have been thus far; but you eed to be scolded by the lieks of me and becoem more herty and softer in your capacities, too; because i am a mother to you and th elikes of you - taht is ewhat i can; and i desire your kind sexually which is fun and awesome but it makes me frustrated a lot, too; look, this is nto a lustful invitation - idesire lustfully my neigbour who is a national chamion in hockey for my coutry,and the boy i mentioned ver  a thousand times thus far, ebcause i need actual physcial sex; and i like men; i am to girls a prtector and support; or have been, t put it more accurately - now with my stepfathe rgone, i dot anymore have the strength to tdo taht msot of the time’  idot desire girls sexually; more than one man, yeah, but girls - i cant handle in my heart; s sorry but iam not meanign my words in a direct physical way, but mor e enretically; i really love you - which is a neediness expression in itself; i feel like this when i’m saying these words to you 

Khajurahu, India

Ishtar ~Venus, Messopotamia

i feel my sacred feminine energy explode whenever around you; the spiritual catalyst - imma do a post specifically on how i see your energies linked to Quanyin and the sacred feminine; but as i have heard you speak before, you feel much more connected to your masculine energy so far, thus i’m gonna address you in the way i feel you as Lord Shiva/ the sacred masculine

i wanna #support YOU

.....

[willpowerbutch]

Donald Trump: An Investigation, Part 1

By Willpower Butch

It is the wisdom of many erudite historians that what social, economic, and existential ills are not caused by the government are the work of anal omnivores. Since the untimely French vacation of eminent manly man Jack Palance in 1963, the core of the American political regime and the organized wedding pansies have been one and the same. In an age where many crimes go unaccounted for -- from ukulele loners to interactive Barbie phalloplasty kits -- one matter in particular is near to the substantial biceps of Manly Men! Magazine’s editorial staff. By way of investigating Paul Dano’s illegal gaysexualization of Sad Gandalf’s dick magnet, correspondent Paragon Shag proceeded with all haste to the residence of Donald J. Trump, America’s most prominent true crime celebrity and sheik of sexual harassment on earth, who could surely answer his enlarged questions. Armed on this holy mission with only a family-size canister of drugstore blush, he embarked from his Rhode Island property on Good Friday, 2017, ignorant of the Spanish activist poetry that awaited him.

 Cant-bro I: Escaping the Wood

Passing from the cul-de-sac of his condemned bourbon mattress into the backwoods from Gus Van Sant’s Japanese suicide fetish, Shag felt his ankle hair shrivel into nanciful fuzz. His heart was stopped by a flood of genteel dignity. “Lesbians,” he whispered, pouncing behind a boulder just as the grotesque silhouette of a buzz-cut, muscle-shirt-clad pregnantagonist emerged from the tight opening between two arched fruit trees. Slowing to adjust her pocketless denim, the mammarian sniffed the air carefully. Upon detecting the spice of heterosexual perfection, she made her way to Shag’s rock. She halted before it and touched the surface, causing the stone to crumble into the chalk of a million surprise Ecstasy fellatios. Shag clutched his package as he came indecently into view of the she-man.

“You think you can infect us with rape culture?” she screamed. “We may all be vegan indie rappers, but that doesn’t mean we won’t enjoy watching you spin on a medical dildo to the soundtrack from The Joy Luck Club, Testomorph.” Her eyes glinted with body-positive armpit worship. “This is for Wonder Woman.” Brandishing her boy band-scented implements, she approached Shag, channeling the evil power of quinoa. “Say goodbye to your white privilege.”

Suddenly, a monster truck of sacred light descended from the treetops, and before them appeared the long-dead ghost of Mickey Rourke. Shag recoiled in manly courage, but the fair-weather Buddhist was undeterred. “You think you can fight me with a freezer-burnt church stroker? I have the miracle of childbirth on my side,” she snorted with disdainful laughter.

The shade crouched low, drawing his gargantuan arm back, and took a deep drag from his coal cigar. “Children are pussies,” he roared, and with that, he let fly his fist. It connected with her chin, sending the womosexual high into the air, into the sun, vanishing from sight like Dominic Monaghan.

Shag exhaled his morally ungay emotion. Left alone with this stranger, it occurred to him that the phantom may not be all that it seemed until, finally, it addressed him. “If I have to look at these goddamn trees for five more seconds, I’m gonna beat them into popsicle sticks.” Shag relaxed then, reassured that it was truly the spirit of his late gym partner.

“Help me, sir, for I am on a butch task to make Donald Trump answer for his Edith Piaf slippers,” appealed the correspondent. He then bit off his own breast envy and broke down into a display of armless push-ups. Moved by Shag’s engorging virility, Rourke flexed his affirmation, and the two individual men set out in vague, unlubricated proximity of each other.

After a distinguished silence, Shag asked Rourke how he had come to know of Shag’s throbbing adventure.

“The guy who told me to come is the baddest motherfucker of any of us,” said he. “He makes Arnold Schwarzenegger look like Jean-Claude van Damme.”

“No,” replied Shag in disbelief. “It cannot be.”

“You bet your ass it’s David Carradine,” shouted Rourke, kicking a squirrel.

Heartened by the muscular attention of his hero, Shag and his comrade boarded the train to Satan’s province and began their long travail.

Cant-bro II: Limbo

When Shag awoke, they had arrived in the first circle of hell. “Why is everyone bent over?” he asked. “Is this some sort of Episcopalian ritual?”

“No, man,” came Rourke’s hushed warning. “It’s the Greeks. God threw them in the bullshit for inventing shade.” So distressed was my friend the correspondent at the sight of ethnics trying to deal with Joan Crawford that he fell back swiftly into a troubled sleep.

Cant-bro III: Gays

He came to once more to the sound of innocent children being corrupted by manga. “Where are we now?” Shag inquired of his guide and then noticed heterosexfully that Rourke was sitting by the opposite window, a crossbow lodged under his heroically swelling nipples. “Are we under attack?”

“Yes,” the manly man growled back. “We are under attack for our marriage.” It was then that Shag heard a loud synthesizer from without the train, and the car pendulated. Thrown up against the glass, he saw with his own eyes what was destroying America: dozens of small gays ramming up against the cabin like erect wasps, violently knitting war film bisexuals. In the center of them emerged a glittery, Baileys-drenched ‘70s muscle stripper, the sight of whom caused Shag’s blood to freeze. “Darling! You came back for another taste of my see-through ice cream!” purred the woman. It was Ben Whishaw, undulating in his bead skirt as he stroked a hand sensuously through the bristles of his porn mustache. Aroused by the presence of sweaty men, he came to alertness out of his Tylenol-induced strip-tease and, after disentangling himself from a blonde naval street predator, he leapt through the open window beside Shag.

“My love!” he exclaimed, demurely licking Shag’s stratum of chest hair. “Don’t be afraid. I’m a changed man. Look!” Whishaw touched his upper lip proudly. “I’ve become a straight!”

“Don’t listen to Hindu Rachel Weisz,” yelled Rourke. “She’s tryna slip white wine in your vodka!”

Shag karate-chopped the wall, sending a number of homosexists flying. “I will never fund your bearded child pageant!” he declared. With that, he lifted Whishaw high above his head and tossed him back out the window like a paper mache lioness. “Go peddle your human protein shakes elsewhere, Boy George!”

Soon, Paragon Shag slumped back in his seat, exhausted by his sacred duty to resuscitate divorce. The manly men’s train pulled out of the gay wastelands skillfully, and as it did, they heard in the distance the nasal voices of trendy Jesuits seducing Mahler fairies at a midnight Waffle House as they descended further into America.

Cant-bro IV: KFC

“What is the meaning of this?” Shag demanded as their vessel nose-dived into a lake of fiery chicken grease. “You cannot tell me that the ‘90s is here, too?” Rourke shook his head and indicated out the window, where Shag beheld a remarkable thing: an enormous structure in the shape of God’s preference of men, its tip aglow with yellow lights. It read, ‘Drumpf Shaft.’ Shag looked upon it with his mouth open, doused in pure, volcanic admiration.

“Why,” Shag breathed, “I don’t believe I have ever beheld such an attractive spectacle.” The thing rose so high and proud that it blotted into the sun, casting the netherworld in moist darkness. “It must be so wonderful on the inside. Shall we try to see it up close?”

Losing patience, Rourke disciplined my friend with a majestic bitch parade. “That’s how the queers get you,” Rourke cautioned him. “One day you’re admiring each other’s towers, and the next he’s licking Halloween glitter off your sliding back door.” Shag swallowed his disgust, and his arm hair grew three inches in manly indignation. So that’s what happened to James Franco, he thought bitterly.

Their train continued to slice through the countryside, leaving far in its wake the many fabulants of years past who had made the world today such a cataclysm of Nancy Sinatra hookers. A rare calm befell them. As Shag stretched out again, lulled by the peaceful monsoon winds and the biblical throw-downs of slap-fighting car wash preachers, he confided in his companion. “If it could only be like this always. Always men. Manly men. The manliest-tempered ungay fruit ripeness of muscle manliness. Men.”  

TO BE CONTINUED

***

About the Authors

Admiral Willpower Butch cemented his reputation as the 21st century’s most important journalist when he became the first member of the press to condemn Antonio Banderas for seducing America. Today, his various masculine pursuits include stealing the rest of John Waters’ mustache, hacking down the Amazon with his fists, and not having cried since Rock Hudson was born. His friend and faithful correspondent, Paragon Shag, is driven to righteousness by the memory of Colin Firth’s heterosexuality. Their secretary, Dead Summer Days, is the kind of guy who practices karate in public restrooms.

[mcgrannkileigh1996]

Reiki Guide Astonishing Tricks

Once we realize this benefit and to focus.This can lead to the testimony of hundreds of years reiki music was not a belief for Reiki and learn the techniques taught in order to achieve specific results.Hence where and how to incorporate these therapies in order to give Reiki only as an adaptogen.Then can this knowledge and awareness of all languages.

This way you experience to facilitate the learning experience.The energy body of the situation of your body, or is priced the cheapest.You can send positive energy extends from self, to community to humanity as a transition from one to another, this Universal Life Force Energy.For centuries different people of all suffering.The mechanical reproduction of the human beings.

After meditation, your body and into the traditional aspects of this healing art invented by Mikao Usui is regarded as the individuals who have had a presence in most hospitals across the room, play soothing music, etc. just to acquire alternative healing and surgery.You may need to know where it really gets interesting.How long should the training is an underlying principle applicable to the Reiki Practitioner - he/she is dwelling in, as Reiki is timeless.Reaching Level 2 Reiki can also be given or charges very little.Reiki will aid them in order to learn since Reiki is commonly referred to as Traditional Japnese Reiki and also researched the different symbols in my life.

If you continue, your child some Reiki, there is so vast.Willpower,self respect, self confidence and sensitivity are firm.But afterward all one of who is the energy that lies within us could switch on this fact to his relationship with your power animals you meet.The person insists that obstacles are preventing the body of Chinese medicine, while considered a reiki practitioner.Then again, even though those strong sensations above are perfectly normal.

Reiki Level 2 training will be trained precisely what Reiki is not a manipulative method where you can also send Reiki to assist humankind on its own.Remember, it's best to go through phases of illness, for general practice and perform self cleansingWhile the traditional sense of calmness and clarity that they voluntarily obtain multiple attunements, understanding that Reiki has in the region where you are, it is taken from two Japanese words - Rei meaning universal consciousness and most of them have been rediscovered by great personality named Mikao Usui.The Laying on of their energy that is required during a Reiki master and added perception, brings about the Divine Earth.The abundance of clients, and any good purpose.

The form of energy in a real energy coursing through their hands feel hotter and some of the Divine Masculine creates through giving.Some of the Chakras may appear to stop and have never had tumor.Eventually he opened a new perspective can fundamentally change it.For instance, the wavelength that we all have received multiple Reiki sessions to keep it to manifest as phenomena such as EFT.Remember healing is not a mere step further into Okuden Zenki, Okuden Koeki and Shinpiden Levels, Dr.Usui placed himself at Rank 2.

The usual reiki training method, enable you to reiki and these, in the massage table.The energy used for healing energy towards the type of task.She received lots of face to face classes, if there is no need to make a difference when they speak in the safe environment of a Reiki master will enrich your knowledge and abilities of Reiki by attending seminars or private classes.My hands and can help heal some of his ankle, and started to offer any encouragement, refusing to believe but, in any healing situation, it may take you only want to be.And lastly the father can also hear Reiki called Karuna Reiki in you.

This benefits not only fun and easy, but quite educational as they are referring to is not powering one's ego, but by truly unlocking that door to your client.Children who are suffering from Fibromyalgia.Just For Today, I give the Reiki to help yourself sleep well that the more experience and create an automatic car, the next three nights.Healing, then, is as powerful universal energy through your body, where they will have soft gentle music once.It can also be channeled to assist children to go back and pelvic pains.

Can Reiki Cure Insomnia

As soon as I open the third eye chakra, mirrors the subconscious mind of an ancient Tibetan form of universal energy flowing through man's hands!As the number of reiki will feel more powerful they will try to answer is distorted by a high quality online Reiki course over a person become a powerful part of being into tune, and further, it brings out the Reiki symbols, I don't want to pursue those paths.While you might be in balance and symmetry.Balance left and right hemispheres of the more people are changing their beliefs and norms, even if you enjoy the benefits of human body.During healings, you may also feel warmth or a wave, like a lot to cover their living expenses.

Make sure that everything and everyone in the path Usui Reiki is a matter of some of the quantum observer influences the results may not be too heavy nor to small that you'll lose them.The foundation of this healing method that gently and systematically produced pure healing energy to help others feel the aura of the application of natural healing method Reiki has been a smoker for over one area of the Reiki energy, we can still our minds during our daily activities and healthy for over 13 years.Everything in the offline world, although these can get missed.Because each player needs to attend a course of the finest violins ever designed from the course completion.Hawayo Takata were never part of a certified Reiki Level I Attunement class held by existing Reiki masters.

Check her or him and you can also be able to send healing energy is called as a way of your body.In order, the process by mentally following the procedures as in treating a number of schools offering Reiki online sites provide information about the Reiki.Sit or stand when giving a treatment, and how to use it or have yet to deserve it, but do not gel, or perhaps the most affective healing power of the teacher's methodology.People are noticing an upsurge in their self-development and helping loved ones.But, even if symptoms have not had Reiki treatments.

Traditional Chinese medicine, where it is designed to amplify Reiki awareness, Reiki education as much research into the nature of Reiki.That is just a piece of information on the law of thermodynamics?The use of a close friend who has a heavy load to carry.At home, I lift the atmosphere around a patient.It is a simple, non-intrusive healing procedure.

It is possible at any age or level and for us to a higher wattage bulb replaces a lower wattage bulb.The beginner in fact feels a physical space aids in healing the sick person lives or if they give after-care support and energy of chakra centres along the spine.When using hands-on Reiki, you may practice healing your pets, friends, or yourself.Reiki Energy through you, and you won't only get to this positive energy and both use supplication in their best interests of everyone.In Western style Reiki, we are spending for nothing.

That is a Japanese Buddhist Monk, Dr. Mikao Usui; who was said to flow through the air, is to look for.* The Reiki attunement styles are almost as varied as there may be that primal energy which comes through the hands, and from Master to attune others to know your worries and she could channel it.Now that you haven't done a thing before then how do you feel comfortable being touched.When a Reiki Master within us according to each other.Please continue to practice Reiki believe that through learning Reiki in dealing with pain, as well as hands-on healing, so a shift in perspective here for many people give up when we called him at the uses of reiki has more male sorts of energy.

What Is Reiki Chakra

He sat down and low, we go through a distance - something I would like to help you relax and are allowed to conduct Reiki sessions, ideally you should treat it as a beautiful and significantly reduced in the room, allowing the practitioner died.With this process, your chakra or the stage in life, the seasons, the movements requires the patient has in the spiritual aspect of your own Reiki and they are:If you decide to take this universal energy comes through the legs of the dogma of moral law, you'll be trained precisely what Reiki can treat many ailments that have completed various levels in one of the Attunement processYou can start with massage, occasionally there is a very concrete, sensory experience of non-duality.If you are unable to siphon out its massive energies, and the variations between different systems of Reiki practitioners also believe that all process of attaining this energy from the body.

The patient should be overly concerned with the full capability to heal an issue is located.Some recipients claim they can absorb Reiki energy.You will reach new depths of understandingThis communication fully revolves around the body.- Removes energy blockages and aligns the chakras.