#that's what i've been up to so far this year

[crazy-pages]

So keep in mind that information is still coming in but ... no, as far as I can tell the first part of this is just probably wrong, and not that hard to check either.

These are the popular vote counts by number and percentage of the population, of Donald Trump by year. 2016: 62,984,828 (19.5%). 2020: 74,216,154 (22.4%). 2024, estimated: 73,000,000 (21.5%).

These are those for the Democratic party: 2016: 65,844,610 (20.4%). 81,268,924 (24.3%). 2024, estimated: 68,000,000 (19.8%).

The United States did not have any more people willing to vote for the bigoted fuck than it did last time!

What happened was that the Democratic party lost a full 13,000,000 presidential voters. That's 16% of everyone who voted for Biden last time! One in six!!!

https://www.washingtonpost.com/elections/interactive/2024/exit-polls-2024-election/

https://www.vox.com/2021/5/10/22425178/catalist-report-2020-election-biden-trump-demographics

And if you look at the 2020 data and the 2024 exit polls so far, there's no real change in Democrat presidential voters among race or gender, aside from a significant but single digit loss of latino voters. A smaller percentage of white people and cis men voted for Harris than for Biden, but only to the same degree that most other Biden voters did. There's just no reason to believe that Democrats were simply that much less willing to vote for a black woman than a white man on prejudicial reasons.

So as far as I can tell at least, no, increasing support for racism and sexism does not explain Trump winning. All of the increased support he was ever going to get had already happened 4 years ago. His supporters have gotten more bigoted, but there aren't more of them.

What happened is that Democratic party support imploded, fairly uniformly across the demographic lines visible in the exit polling so far, while support for bigotry remained perfectly constant. The number of abstaining voters in this country went up from about 86,000,000 in 2020 to 99,000,000 in 2024, a 16% increase, without any particular demographic bias that's apparent so far.

And to me, that reads like ideological collapse. A straightforward across the board collapse in people's belief that the Democrats provide an alternative worth voting for.

And I've been saying this for months, even as I've blown the "vote goddamnit!" horn. Politics 101, the most basic possible political lesson, is that you need an emotionally resonant narrative. We all needed to vote, but the motivation to do so was the Democrats to lose.

And they lost it.

Now we're going to pay for it.

Is she genuinely losing?! How are the democrats so good at losing

[incorrectbatfam]

Genocide supporter.

The first time I tried to stop drinking, I quit cold turkey. I had been drinking since 2018 and wanted to be 100% done immediately, and the beginning of quarantine seemed like the right time. Back then, in my mind, a few beers at a party was no different than downing a pint of scotch alone in my apartment on a Wednesday. So when I broke my clean streak, it was a devastating mental blow. I gave up and jumped off the wagon completely, because what was the point if I couldn't achieve these exact goals in an exact way?

Things got worse when apathy and cynicism took over. I drank more. I got fired from my job and my ex broke up with me. I got involved with the wrong people in the wrong places. More than once, I've spent the night in the emergency room or a holding cell. And even though nothing bad happened, I'm ashamed to admit I even took my motorcycle out on the road. Each time, I tried the same all-or-nothing approach, because it was the ideal solution. Obviously, something wasn't working.

Then I started seeing a professional, and she told me that if I can't achieve perfection, I can at least take steps to get better.

If I couldn't stop drinking, I could at least cut out hard liquor.

If I couldn't stop drinking, I could at least leave my credit card at home and only carry a finite amount of cash, so once I ran out, that was it.

If I couldn't stop drinking, I could at least give my keys to a friend and call an Uber.

Etc. etc.

And those have been working. Though I still drink, I'm no longer doing it on weekdays or making myself violently sick. My sober stretches are slowly getting longer and I've been able to stay out of trouble. In some aspects, the damage has already been done—there are people who (rightfully) won't talk to be and I probably chopped ten years off my lifespan. But any steps toward progress is better than vying for perfection and getting nothing.

That's what people misunderstand about harm reduction. People think it's about choosing the cure, when it's really more like choosing the scale of the problem to tackle. The problem still exists and the fight is far from over. But as it currently stands, one side claims they'll be fine on the road, while the other is at least willing to hand their car keys over.

I know that this probably isn't anywhere close to a good analogy. Me frying my internal organs is nothing like the systematic destruction we're seeing in Palestine. The reality is though, we live in a system where change often involves a cumulative set of steps rather than one giant leap. That's where our participation and persistence make a big difference.

[thatdisasterauthor]

What I'm Going to do Going Forward

I think it is important to have clear goals right now, so here's mine:

I'm still going to get top surgery, but I talked to my original surgeon and got my deposit back. While I would love to stay with him, he is far more expensive than other options and I will now also be planning on getting my tubes tied, so I'll need money for that as well.

I am going to be focusing my activism efforts on emergency response and natural disasters. That is my niche, and that is where I feel I can do the most good. I will still lend my voice, signature, and vote to other causes, but my focus will be here.

I came up with an idea for a big project related to individual safety during disasters about a month back, and I'm going to do my best to get it out within a year. Don't want to talk about it too much just yet because it's still somewhat nebulous, but I'm super excited for it.

I'm still going to apply for a PhD in Emergency Management next year. If the program I want isn't getting funded due to the issues we are now facing, I will still be doing my planned dissertation topic as a non-fiction book.

I'm going to be more active in fandoms, and probably write more fanfiction. Need my little dose of happy, and fandom has always been a good way for me to get it.

No more social media before bed. Just reading. And less social media that I can't filter as well (so less TikTok, less Reddit).

I am still going to publish my books (and I've got a handful ready to go!) but that may have to look different if it becomes too expensive to produce special editions out of the country, or produce physical editions in general. We'll just have to wait and see on this one, but one way or another there will be books!

[lonesome-greenery]

I was four at the time and my heel had been sliced open by the edge of a bed so I had a waterproof bandaid on it. This will be important later.

I'd never gone to the ocean or beach for that matter before. That kind of thing just doesn't happen when you live so far inland and have a big family. So this was the first time I'd ever seen something so big and deep. The sand was wet and I was wearing my favorite sun dress. There were some older kids nearby -- I think they were probably ten to twelve years old -- who were building a sand castle with a moat. They had said something about finding a hermit crab and it pinching one of them. I was very careful wading through the water then because I didn't know what a crab pinch felt like, but I imagined it would be quite painful.

My mom was chatting with a circle of adults nearby in some of the deeper water, and I went out to meet her. I was treading water as best I could and the ocean was up to my neck. I say something to her and I'm sent back to the shore because it's too deep for me there and how did I get out so far? Why wasn't my dad watching me?

I get back to the shallows, and I feel something tug on my heel. My immediate thought is a hermit crab having gotten a hold on my foot. It doesn't hurt, but I'm terrified nonetheless and I go running up and onto the shore where the sun has baked the sand to the point that I can't handle the heat.

I'm back in the ocean again with the water around my ankles. I check my heel, and there's an immediate sense of relief. It's just a band aid. A band aid whose adhesive just doesn't work period. It's not a hermit crab, and I'm safe.

Now here's where things get interesting.

I'm standing in the shallows. The wind is picking up and I've just had the adrenaline wear off from being convinced that a hermit crab is attacking my foot. I'm four years old and relatively short.

The wind has picked up.

That means that the waves have started to get bigger. One starts picking up speed as it gets closer to the shore.

I don't know what exactly was going through my mind at that time, but I decide that the best way to handle that is not to go back to the shore (it's too hot on the sand, I'd rather stay in the water), but instead to drop onto my stomach and grab onto whatever stick or ocean greenery is there under the water and let the wave wash over me. I hadn't even taken a breath, but the wave passes over me and I can't get up. I'm sucked under and further out. The water is in my nose and stinging my eyes. I can't breathe. Everything is a murky yellow blue green. I'm no longer holding onto the sand and sticks. Those have slipped through my fingers.

I could very well die in that moment.

I don't realize it at the time. I'm four years old, and this is my first time interacting with a huge body of water.

I'm stuck under the wave for about twenty seconds before someone has grabbed me by the ankle and yanked me out of the ocean. He's one of my parents' friends and had noticed that I'd gone missing. It's the same leg as the heel with the bandaid that he's grabbed. I'm coughing up water and he's setting me upright. My mom and dad are running to check on me. I don't even know quite what's happened.

The guy who pulled me out of the water has sunglasses and assures them that I'm okay. I get told I almost drowned. That I could have died. When you're four, you don't have much of a concept of death. I didn't understand death much less drowning, but I understood the fear in my parents' voices.

I didn't drown, but I could have.

I'm still alive today.

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[ataleofcrowns]

Chapter Progress [NOV/06]

Hey all, it's been a while since I've written one of these 🍂

I've been posting regular previews on my Patreon, but a proper update was long overdue! As a refresher, my last update was this one, and I've got lots more to update you on now that I'm further along!

I've struggled a lot with this chapter and have been trying to wrangle it into shape as best I can, and I'm happy (and relieved) to say that I can finally give you an estimated release date: you can expect CH12 to be uploaded in December this year.

I won't be putting a specific date on it yet, since it could be anywhere from early December to late December depending on how much progress I make in November, but I'll let you know! Now, onto specifics.

The Main Plot

I'm currently balancing out LI specific content in the main plot! Regardless of what you chose in regards to Kham and the peri trader, players will be spending some time with D and X to make up for their absence in CH10 at the beginning of this chapter, and I've really missed writing their dynamic with each other as well as the Crown.

I genuinely can't decide which branch is my favorite. Meeting with Kham directly gives so much juicy verbal sparring and tension between not only her and the Crown but her and D and X as well. But meeting directly with the peri trader let me dig more into the worldbuilding, explore the city a bit, and have some more lighthearted shenanigans with D and X too.

I'll add some previews here for both routes that I've also already shared for people on the Patreon. Here's a little excerpt for people meeting with Kham:

“There is one thing I have been wondering, princess,” you say as you stare back into her eyes, watching the way the orange orbs of light flicker like flames. “When you first arrived here, you were accompanied by a retinue of guards. Whatever happened to them?” Kham does not raise her brows at you, exactly, but something similar to the motion as the wood above her eyes arches upwards with a stiff creaking sound. “They are not merely my guards, they are my servants first and foremost. Naturally, they run errands for me.” “What kinds of errands?” “Surely you do not think I would fetch all I require by myself?” She appears amused by the line of questioning rather than offended. “They trade with the peri merchants in your city on my behalf. Although, calling it trade is perhaps not accurate, as I hold the right to lay claim on their supplies whenever I please. They are representatives of my mother, after all.” You consider the explanation, but nothing about it seems notable or inconsistent so far. “So you have never dealt with this peri trader I wish to meet with yourself?” “Of course not.” She smiles, her wooden mouth briefly pressing together. “That would be beneath me.” “A shame,” $xname muses casually from beside you, contrasting the sharp look in their eyes. “We had hoped you might have some insight to share.” “As much insight as you are willing to offer me regarding this flower you seek,” Kham returns, her smile still in place. “The blue siren, yes? A rather strange fixation…” You feel the urge to tense, but withhold yourself from it by taking a slow, relaxed breath. All the rigorous physical training you have underwent over the course of the past month is already showing its benefits: you feel more aware and in control over your body, able to maintain your composure. A necessary skill when dealing with someone like Kham, as conversing with her feels like a dance of sorts. The two of you are watching each other’s steps, waiting for the other to slip.

And here's the excerpt for if you choose to meet with the peri trader:

You manage to make it through the marketplace, finally arriving at a large building with an open front, wrapping around the corner of the street. Tables and shelves are lined with various flowers and plants, perused by a few passing customers. This appears to be the peri trader’s shop, signaled by the sign at the front that reads Eshkar’s Garden. Eshkar being the name of the peri trader in question. Most of the flora on display you recognize, if not by the labeled names then by sight alone, but several look entirely new to you. Pale white flowers whose hanging bulbs pulse with light when a customer brushes against its leaves; bleeding vines wrapped around a miniature roofed trellis atop a tall table, its crimson flowers slowly dripping down pink juice caught by bowls below; a tall flower with only two black petals, large and pointed, that nearly startle you when they snap together several times in sharp, cracking sounds, almost as if the flower were clapping. IF CROWN IS INTELLIGENT Momentarily forgetting about your intended purpose in being here, you approach the clapping flower with curiosity, wondering what set it off. Sure enough, you see dead and decomposing flies of various sorts collected at the center of its bulb as you lean over to peer inside, taking care to avoid leaning in too close lest your nose get caught between the aggressive petals. Does it catch and eat small insects? How fascinating. You glance at the labeling of the flower, its name fittingly given as ‘black ovation’. IF CROWN IS INTUITIVE Eyes drawn by the visual spectacle of the white flowers, you find yourself wandering over to its shelf, glancing at the labeling that reads ‘stardrops’. The bulbs look ordinary at first glance, but sure enough, when you reach out to touch its petals, the flower begins to glow like you saw before. A ring of light travels up its stem, through the petals to the very ends, where it erupts into tiny little golden sparks. Hence the name, you suppose. Unable to stop yourself, you touch the flower again, mesmerized by the light show, until you notice a shop attendee frowning at you from nearby. Feeling scolded, you quickly pull your hand away and offer an apologetic smile.

Lots of fun going on in both routes! I don't envy you for having to make this choice lol.

Aside from this big branch, the main plot will converge for everyone again in the latter half of the chapter, where the Crown gets do to some more typical Crown things: hearing public petitions! They'll contain 2 smaller scenes where your character will hear out some citizen concerns, which will let you rack up reputation points with either the public or the nobility, and 1 major scene that affects a future plot point.

Not gonna spoil these since I've already talked so much about everything else regarding this chapter, so this will have to remain a surprise ✨

The Romances and Friendships

While the start of the chapter is X and D focused, if you have a specific (platonic) LI you want to spend more time with as buddies and perhaps get a little relationship advice, you'll have that opportunity at the start of CH12! I've had to write 12 variations in total for each friendship scene, which was a lot of work, but completely worth it.

Some LI routes also have big additional differences depending on if you have a low or high romance (such as A and R), while it matters a little bit less for the others for the time being (such as D and X). So if you screwed up on D or X's romances and have a low status, you're mostly in the clear from immediate consequences… for now.

Here's a little excerpt, taken from a playthrough of a Crown who has a high romance with A and chooses R's friendship scene:

Something like mischief gleams in $rname’s eyes as $rthey looks at you. “I’ve noticed you and $aname seem especially close nowadays.” You shift a little on the couch, averting your gaze to avoid $rname’s eyes as you strike a casual tone. “Do we?” “Mhm.” When you do glance over at $rname, you find $rthem studying $rtheir nails, and you begin to relax as you think it was just an idle remark. Until $rthey adds, “All the hand-holding underneath the table is endearing, I must admit. Especially since the two of you seem to think you’re being subtle about it.” IF CROWN IS RESERVED Heat flushes up your neck at being seen through so easily, remembering breakfast earlier that morning where $aname’s fingers hooked around yours beneath the table. “We were just… we’re not…” $rname looks up from $rtheir nails to grin at you. “There’s no need to look so embarrassed! I’m happy for you. The two of you seem well-suited for each other.” Trying to move past your flustered state, you clear your throat. “You think so?” “I’ve never seen $aname so at ease as when you’re around,” $rname considers, eyes narrowing with teasing and fondness both. “You look more unburdened with $athem near, as well.” IF CROWN IS FLIRTATIOUS You almost laugh at the remark and give it away completely, only managing to keep it in at the last moment and grinning back at $rname instead. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” $rname looks up from $rtheir nails with a sly smile. “No? What a shame. I was going to say how well-suited the two of you are for each other.” That catches your attention, your playfulness easing into something more sincere. “Really?” “I’ve never seen $aname so at ease as when you’re around,” $rname considers, eyes narrowing with teasing and fondness both. “You look more unburdened with $athem near, as well.”

This scene aside, CH12 will also contain another dedicated romance scene with your LI, dealing with some of the fallout from last chapter whether good or bad. If your romance is high, you'll be coasting- except maybe for D romancers, who are in Pining Hell either way haha.

If your romance is low, though, prepare for some delicious angst 🙏🏼

That's all I've got for now! Thank you all so much for your patience and support as always, especially for how long I've been making you all wait. You're the best 💖

[imagitory]

I've never been more heartbroken in my life.

I was gobsmacked in 2016, don't get me wrong. I was devastated and frightened and shaken beyond words. I even had to go behind a wall and collect myself at one point that horrible November 9th, 2016, after colliding with a man wearing a red MAGA hat at work. A good chunk of us at work talked amongst ourselves about it, offering each other comfort.

But this? This is different. I could imagine dumb people making excuses for voting for Trump in 2016 -- saying that they thought a businessman would be good for the economy, saying that they wanted someone who wasn't a "Washington insider" like Hilary Clinton. Sure, it was stupid, but people can be stupid. Quite frankly, a lot of people are stupid, in this country and otherwise.

But now? Anyone who voted for Trump now has voted for a man who not only rounded up immigrants and put them in concentration camps separated from their families; bungled the response to COVID-19 so badly that the American death toll easily surpassed every other country on Earth; has poisoned the Supreme Court to the extent that they overturned years of precedence with Roe V. Wade and has basically given Trump cart-blanche to do whatever he wants while he's president; was the first president in history to refuse to concede on election day; was impeached for crimes in office not once but TWICE; was instrumental to and passionately supportive of the full-on attempted coup at the U.S. capitol on January 6, 2021 that could've very easily resulted in the deaths of his own Vice President and multiple members of Congress; has spoken glowingly of despots like Vladimir Putin and Kim Jong Un and even said he will be "a dictator on day one" if elected again; has both used slogans originally used by modern American Neo-Nazis ("America First") and purportedly told one of his ex-subordinates that he wanted generals like Adolf Hitler's...but also has by the day proven more and more just how mentally inept, vindictive, and mean-spirited he truly is.

And unlike in his previous races, Trump is ahead in the popular vote too. We can't just blame this on the electoral college being antiquated and gerrymandered AF like in the Trump-Clinton or Bush-Gore elections. Even if all of the third-party voters in this country had grown a bloody brain cell and voted for Harris so as to show solidarity against Trump and his form of American fascism, it still somehow wouldn't be enough. We could potentially blame this on lower voter turn-out -- according to what I'm seeing so far, even with all the votes not counted in this race yet, it looks like there were far less votes cast this election than in the last one, though likely still more than the 2016 race. But even so, I don't think that's the only problem. I truly think there were just a lot of people who turned out en-masse to vote for Trump. And all I can think in regards to those people is...

This is beyond stupidity or even selfishness. This is cruelty. This is large swaths of people deciding that they want fellow American citizens to suffer -- because in their minds, if those people suffer, that'll somehow make them happy. This is a large chunk of America saying, "yeah, you know all that crap about 'liberty and justice for all'? Screw that, I want a 'strong man' to bully people different from me for my own amusement." And -- perhaps -- there's also an element of feeling like their vote doesn't really have any consequences for them, so why should they care if the man they voted for is a god-awful person? It's not like that man will hurt them.

I had hoped. I had hoped, seeing the outpouring of support from liberals, independents, and conservatives for Harris/Walz. I'd hoped, seeing how many ex-Trump appointees were standing up against him, how much people were shouting their disdain for Project 2025 from the rooftops, and how many women were protesting in the face of Roe V. Wade being overturned. I truly had started to hope that America would prove we'd grown beyond our country's own original sin -- how our United States preached freedom for all while still being built on the backs of slaves and refusing to grant a vote to over half their population -- by electing a smart, successful, charismatic woman of color who sees our country as great in potential and wants us to pursue that potential as our first female president, rather than backtracking all the slow progress we've made over the last 200+ years.

But now...my hope has faded. My heart is in pieces and the world is so dark. I hardly know how I'll function at work tomorrow, even if I know somehow, I have to try. We'll all have to stand somehow. Somehow, someway...we'll have to find the strength. We'll have to stand, and we'll have to keep moving forward, even when it feels like we're a Little Mermaid walking on knives.

We'll have to stand.

[niuniente]

Dear people over America. I woke up to this current political news which is devastating to say the least to minorities, women and the trans community on the other side of the globe. I wanted to do what little I can to help and ease your minds.

I'm a psychic. I have been doing divination (oracle readings) for 25 years. I've got a high success rate and my reviews on my store are 5/5 (you can see this for yourself). I asked the cards for clarification for all this; why is HE the president now, and how does the nearby future look for women and trans communities.

Please note that these are collective readings of the topic and might not correlate with your own personal experiences or how things are in your home state! So take only what resonates with you and ignore the rest. (If you wish to have a personal reading, that is possible; in that case, click here)

Why Trump is the president?

This result didn't surprise me because for the past 3 years I have heard many American people, who have had a near-death experience (NDE) to say that if they have gotten a view of America's future, Trump has always appeared as being elected for the 2nd time - but only for the 2nd time.

The Spirit tells me that Trump's personal lesson is to learn to see other people's points of views. That's why he chose such a position in society, where he would need to consider many different people from different backgrounds and life situations. He needs to understand how his actions affect others.

However, he is miserably failing with this personal lesson (unless something happens and he somehow completes it now in the next 4 years). Instead of going for harmony and seeing everyone's point of view, his priority is Power. With a capital P. That's what he desires, that's what he wants (MAGA movement is based on this; power back to America, America needs to be a powerful, unyielding boxer in the global ring - only a win matters).

I asked why he wishes for this Power and it's simply because of the power's sake. He loves to be in control. He loves to feel powerful. You all are asked, as much as possible, to detach from this drama he is causing because it indeed seems like he is close to a cult leader and loves to bask in this power. He loves the idea that he can command nukes and one of the most powerful countries in the world. To get this, he is ready to cause any kind of a shitstorm - after all, he has not learned to consider others, except maybe only his own family members.

This correlates with his views of an autonomic power, where he gets all the power and can be a dictator. There's no one more powerful person alive in the world than a dictator. Anyone following him is likely learning this same lesson of empathy and understanding, and failing in it. They all want to be the King of the Hill and by following someone who already is, makes them feel like they are, too. This is all drama for dramas sake because it makes them feel more powerful.

TL;DR: Trump's life lesson is to learn to respect and honor everyone despite their backgrounds and views. What a better way to do that as a president of a nation with so many nationalities and stories of people in it. But so far he has failed miserably in this lesson and has chosen blind worship of power instead. Stirring drama is his tactic to gain more power and followers. Detach from his and his followers' drama as much as you can; block, ignore, move on. His reign will eventually come to an end.

Future for Women in The US?

A toxic masculine energy wishes to control women of America and this is not related to any single individual. The rise of misogyny is real and tangible, and women are part of this "other party" the power hungry men do not want to contemplate. It's His way or No Way at all.

This will make women turn more and more away from men, which HOPEFULLY make these men see that in order to actually have a woman and a family they so much yearn to have is to love women. Not to hate them as they now do. Not to see them as assets or items or rewards of a job well done of being a man. More and more women will choose not to have kids, choose not to date or get married, and they will choose even more carefully men who are on their side, walking next to them as a unit.

In a way or another, women WILL fight and take their power back. Peace will not be an option. If this fighting can't be done visibly, it will be done in secrecy; helping other women out, warning them of bad men and risks, aiding others to better safety and to a better life. Mind you that this also covers trans women; there are trans women and trans allies in cis women who will be willing to help. Women will turn towards one another. Men who follow this old paradigm of controlling women will be met with women's bare teeth but other women will be met with peace. I don't see anything particularly related to women who follow misogyny but I imagine with this much mental energy here, women will not abandon them but educate them. It is possible some of these women, who support this kind of regime, will later change their minds when they see how it negatively affects them, their parents, sisters, aunts, friends, cousins, coworkers etc. Some women will die in order to wake others up.

Women will turn their nurturing energies - the one this regime wants to turn towards men and babies - towards themselves. Artistic expression and expressing their feelings through any form of art will be significant. Pay attention to what kind of art women do now - it's going to be directly reflected in what's going on now. Women seem to also be looking more after their bodies, keeping themselves safe. This low level energy of control and forcing women is echoes of the past and women of America, collectively and mainly, wish not to partake in it any longer.

When it comes to men, these men who have thought that Trump will deliver them a woman to look after them and have their babies will see that it's not the case. And, if it is, the marriage is not happy and many women will fight like a trapped wild cat, scratching the eyes out of any of the people who want to trap them. This will be genuinely boggling to them and might make them angrier but their lessons are to understand what human rights are and what it means to respect others as your equal.

TL;DR: Women will turn away from misogyny and forced motherhood more and more, turning their attention and care towards themselves and other women (trans included) and leaving misogyny men angry because they have not learned to love women (not your job to teach them this, sisters!). Artistic expressions in all forms among women will be very high as it will be a way to express and deal with these current energies. Women will be even more pickier with the men they date and get married with, or even interact overall with - as they should. Anyone who wants to rip you off from your human rights is not your ally or a good partner. This will not be a shocker to anyone else but the men who believe in misogyny, as they will not get wives or girlfriends any easier - it only gets harder.

Future for Trans People in the US?

Trans people in the USA (not every state, mind you) need to "erase" their existence. Like I saw someone saying here; if you know a trans person in the USA now, no, you don't. True identities will be hidden for the safety's sake and people will flock more into underground, smaller communities. Those communities will continue to exist and support one another. This is not a total erasure but it's erasure in a way that it is better to choose carefully who really knows your true identity and who are the people to whom you are performing the identity of your physical body. So trans men will pretend to continue to be women on the outside, trans women will pretend to continue to be men on the outside but in their own safe spaces and supportive communities, they can be who they truly are.

Now, trans communities and rights will not be erased. There can be a momentary setback and time when trans people have to carefully hide their identities for their own sake but it will not be permanent. Trans people, like women's collective, WILL FIGHT. Trans people will NOT allow themselves and their fellow trans people to be erased. The time when "transpeople didn't exist because this is woke idealism", as red-wing misogyny says, WILL NOT return. People who wish for these times to come back have fallen from the evolution of humanity. Trans people will not stop existing. They will fight for their rights till the end of the world. Liberation seems to be near and this looks, in America, to be the final dark hour before the new dawn. Hang in there!

The Spirit and the cards promise that trans people will get their freedom. There's no returning back to the time when their existence was forbidden. There's a flow of prosperity and lots of freedom in the future cards so any trans person there reading this - DO NOT GIVE UP. This is temporary. This will pass. You need to play with these nasty rules for a little while but it will pass.

There's a promise of balance in work and home life, so acceptance of trans people both in private areas of their life (home, friends, communities, online blogs etc.) as well as in public (school, work, society, hospitals, other people). That kind of a future is coming, also as we move more into the Era of Aquarius, which supports human rights, different gender and sexual identities without judgment, liberation of gender and sexuality and thus the human expression itself.

TL;DR: Trans people need to lay low for now and hide their true identities for their own safety. If you know a trans person, no, you do not. They will find the support they need in their own communities but trans people will not be erased. Trans people WILL fight and there is going to be a time in the future when they can openly (once again) be who they truly are, both at home and outside home. Flow of prosperity and freedom is in the cards as a promise of the future and these energies are massive. This is only the old paradigm's final efforts to stay alive as it croaks and is forgotten. American humanity will evolve to respect trans people's human rights, too.

EVERYONE SCARED IN THE USA, KEEP GOING! This is only a temporary moment of night.

[a-stitch-in-time-and-space]

"Dad," Jake begins, shuffling a bit from foot to foot.

Uh-no, he thinks. He can pinpoint how worried Jake is by the mixture of movement, tone of his voice, and inability to look him in the eye. Did someone die?!

"Yes Jake," he says, giving him his full attention -- earnest and soft.

"Dad, I... have something to tell you... um... and you can't get mad about it or weird about it. And you can't interrupt until I've finished telling you, okay?"

"Sure."

Another second. Two. "Dad I've been dating-"

"But that's great news Jake," he says, relief no-doubt visible on every inch of his face. "Why would I be anything but happy for you?"

"Dad!" Jake interrupts. "I'm dating Nog. And have been for awhile..."

That makes him pause for a second. Okay, Nog. Makes sense. They've been inseparable since Jake first arrived on the station.

"Why didn't you tell me before? I might have opinions about his uncle on occasion, but that's nothing to do with him. He's a fine Officer, bright, loyal, brave-" as he speaks he warms to the whole thing more and more. A few years ago he might have had his doubts, but... and sure, he'll invite Rom and Leeta around, which means having to invite Quark around, but it's a small price to pay. Overall a good family, good people, and some people who grow on you if you're on a space station with them for years on end.

Jake clears his throat. "I also... am dating... Ziyal."

He stops dead in his tracks.

"Tora Ziyal?"

Jake nods. "Do we know another Ziyal?"

"Dukat's daughter?"

Jake frowns. "Dad, I said you couldn't do anything until I was finished."

Ben's own frown mirrors his son's, but he breaks it to hold up his hands. "Alright, alright. You're dating Nog and Ziyal. I'm sure Commander Kira will be happy about it."

Yeah. Yeah, okay. Dukat's daughter, but hasn't he long abdicated the right to come calling for in-law heart to hearts? Ben certainly won't be busting out the real peppers for him if he ever does mysteriously find out, but Kira has been Ziyal's default parent for awhile now and is naturally always welcome - and Ziyal herself is an up-and-coming artist, lots of groundbreaking work being platformed on Bajoran-Cardassian identity, explains why Jake's been writing so much on the subject for awhile now. Kira has every right to be proud, and even though the Dukat thing niggles in the back of Ben's mind, he's sure he can put it aside for hers and Jake's sake.

Ah, and Elim Garak would have to be invited too, come to think about it... he'll have to think about that one, but at least it'll make for an interesting dinner at this point.

"And Ezri."

"What about Dax?" Ben asks, jolted out of meal-and-seating-planning (well obviously Kira and Quark can't be seated next to each other and he doesn't trust Garak next to Rom, and he thinks Leeta and Ziyal might get on well)--

"I'm also dating Ezri. Well, it's early days, we're still... but I asked if I could tell you and she said yes, but she didn't want to be here when I did. I think Dax- uh, Worm-Dax that is, isn't sure how you'll feel about it, because you've known each other for a long time. But. Ezri's her own woman, you know."

He says the last part very seriously, like he's expecting disapproval, but Ben's not halfway through processing the first part, when the second part belatedly careens into him... "Dax?" he says, a little strangled.

Jake shrugs. "Ezri said if you could keep Jadzia and Curzon out of it, that would be great." A pause. "Especially Curzon. I know there's some memories or... but. I mean, if Dax accepts it then everyone should!"

He bites his lip a little, like he used to when he was much younger and was worried he'd gone too far with something or other.

"Dax..." Ben says faintly. And under his breath: "oh the trill-commission are going to love this..."

"We haven't broken any laws," Jake says, defiantly.

Ben puts a comforting hand on his shoulder. "A four-person interspecies romance? Oh, I'm sure you are."

Then pulls him into a hug, and adds: "the variation on cuisine and custom within a single meal will be an interesting experience for us all though. I think I know how I can make it work..."

Jake laughs, relieved, and hugs him back as he continues to talk.

*

*The big problems don't start until the wedding planning several years later... meal prep really is the least of it.

Jake and Ziyal: softTM, bond over shared sad-mother stories, being young civilians during wartime, art, both of them are connected to Bajor - bonus points that dukat and sisko would be in-laws

Jake and Nog: friends to married, ultimate tol and smol, worried Jake when Nog’s away, long-distant relationship, they already know they can live together - bonus points quark and sisko would be in-laws

Jake and Ezri: their brief interactions were Good Chemistry, he’d help her find her bearings as Ezri, so supportive, they’ve both come off age pretty similarly, soft beans, bonus points sisko and the worm would be confused as heck 

[bukvarsbitch]

attn folks interested in preserving fanfiction + digital fan history

alright so uh... the us is going through some shit right now.

as someone who's currently pursing graduate education with a substantial focus in fan studies, i am especially concerned about preserving the amount of works fans have created over the last however many years we've been fucking around on the internet. in particular, i'm really worried about ao3 and (even though i look at it like a cousin i'm not fond of) wattpad. these sites have immense cultural value and history that is worth preserving, and i'm not gonna lie: i'm a little worried about their standing come january.

so this is where we as a collective come in. i don't know how many followers i have on this silly hellsite, but i'm going to ask folks this: please, please, please— start archiving the fanfics and fanart and fan-everything of the fandoms you're in, you care about, or you have been in. put it on an external harddrive. make back ups. you'll want it if things go south, and scholars like me will want it so we can preserve fan history.

if you're interested in doing this, rb or message me or leave a comment or something and i'd love to work together on making a massive, cloud and external, database of fandoms we all care about. we have time to do this, and other folks have done and are doing this, but we need to do it.

to spread this around some, i've tagged this with fandoms i'm most active with here, but share wild and far. even if you don't want to do this with me, do it with your friends. please <3

tldr: i, and many other fan studies folks/fans writ large, are worried about what happens to fanfiction come january and trump's presidency. if you also care about this, let's work together to start putting together a database of fics we care about.

p.s. and if you do it i'll even give you a little shoutout in the acknowledgements of my master's thesis if you want idk (is this anything????)

[yuurei20]

Lilia Facts Part 16: Frightening

We have many examples of Lilia catching people by surprise, including Ace (four times), Azul, Rook, Silver, Vil (three times), Grim (three times), Trey, Deuce, Cater, Sebek (twice), Silver (twice), Crowley, Riddle, and a ghost chef.

Malleus comments that Lilia and his Tsum both tend to pop up out of nowhere without warning.

Lilia may have passed on this habit to Silver, who scares Deuce on accident by coming up behind him without warning, but Lilia seems to do be doing so intentionally:

Lilia comments that his tsum appears to enjoy catching people by surprise, and when Silver comments that Lilia seems “oddly delighted” at having their rules broken during Halloween Lilia responds, “You're just imagining things. I'm certainly not giddy at the prospect of getting to scare people to my heart's content.”

(Silver: “Father seems to be getting a kick out of this.”)

Sebek says that Lilia spent over a decade scaring them, and “his level of expertise and experience isn't just leagues beyond laypeople's—it's in a whole other dimension!”

When a child tells Lilia that he is not scary he offers to prepare something “a little higher-level” and Silver and Sebek intervene, saying, “I think your fullest efforts would be more than most children can handle!”

We hear about what may have been one of these “fullest efforts” from ten years ago:

Sebek, Silver and Malleus all describe a “particularly blood-curdling” halloween that involved Lilia wriggling “like some sort of venomous snake, and his laugh rung hollow...I felt I might be cursed just listening to it.”

Sebek says that children and adults alike shuddered in fear and raced to their homes to wait out the nightmare” and Silver says “I heard that some children who saw him ended up wetting the bed that night,” which is later hinted at having been Sebek himself.

When Cater says that Lilia can get a little scary when he “Lilia starts getting screamy in Pop Music Club practice” Malleus, Sebek and Silver all insists, “The true Lilia is far worse than that!!!”

Silver apologizes for not being scared by the prefect’s attempts to frighten him, saying, “you'll have to do better than that. I've been trained by the best— my father.”

[atomic-waste-of-time]

ok, maybe I get excited over being turned into a robot, or a pet. Maybe I get super excited thinking about staring into a partners eyes as they help me take my dehumanifier shots, while petting me softly, and telling me I'm doing a good job.

Maybe I just wanna be treated as an object, because objects are treated better than me by everyone I know. Maybe I hate being human because I never got treated as a human, but my entire childhood was rather spent crying and watching nature documentaries while repressing trauma I had in kindergarten when I was 7 years old.

Maybe I was only able to realize what I actually was when I was 14, by remembering the repressed memory of looking in a mirror and saying "I want to be a girl" before getting laughed at by everyone, including the teacher, and as a result my entire school life was spent in a state of panic and survival, being hurt for the amusement of others, never being heard, and often getting into detention for defending myself when I absolutely had to.

Maybe I was yelled at as a child for having a hard time remembering things, or understanding "basic" things, like 3rd grade math, or essays. Maybe I realized too late that I was actually transgender, that there were more people like me, that I wasn't a monster, just misunderstood.

Maybe I'm so sick and tired of fighting for myself, in a world that's hellbent on torturing my very existence. Maybe I dream of being something that isn't human because they don't have to suffer under laws, or currency, or conflicting emotions. Maybe I was treated as a monster my entire life, and adulthood is just adding a crashing burning flame to the comedic tragedy that has been my life.

Maybe I want to be a monster. Maybe I was labelled as a monster so much I learned to adapt to the role, scaring people away, being alone, even though I've always hated it. Maybe I never wanted to be human. Maybe I was born as a monster, labelled a freak by doctors, and told I wasn't special at all, just another cog in a machine everyone seems to hate, but nobody wants to do anything about except for me.

Maybe I want to be treated as an object, as an animal, as something that isn't human, because at least that way I'll feel loved. I'll be accepted. I can be happy, if I give away the thing I hate the most.

Maybe all these are true, maybe one or two, maybe none at all, and maybe you, the Reader, feel the same way.

Maybe we were mistreated and horribly abused, verbally and mentally. Maybe we both feel guilty for our trauma because it isn't as bad as someone else's trauma. Maybe we both hate the world, maybe we both want to change it.

Maybe we grew up in a manipulative home, maybe you grew up without a home, maybe you didn't even think about any of this until now, or maybe it's been a question bugging us our entire lives.

Maybe my family says they care for me, but they treat me like a slave and a freak. Maybe you understand how that feels too.

Maybe we both suffer, maybe we both hurt. Maybe we come here to get away, only to see more people in peril and pain. Maybe we just want to be happy.

Maybe you put everyone else before yourself because you were mentally abused and trained to do so. Maybe you wanted everyone else to be happy because you thought it was impossible for you to be happy. Maybe situations worsened when you showed up, like the universe itself hated your existence. Maybe you feel the same way I do.

Maybe I'm just venting over a silly post about dehumanization, maybe I'm overthinking, maybe I'm spiraling in on myself again.

Maybe I'm trying not to cry. Maybe I'm shaking and sobbing, my fingers move instinctively across the keyboard to communicate while I sob. Maybe my head aches from life crashing down around me.

Maybe I'm losing my home, my life, everything I worked so hard for. Maybe I'll never get to Britain to see my girlfriend. Maybe I'll never be good enough and I'll have to suffer forever, like I have been my entire life, tortured by happy memories that are far outweighed by the negative emotions and swirling hatred for myself, my mind and body in a constant war while I'm just a civilian casualty.

Maybe I can't cope with the fact all I'm doing is venting about my problems in the form of a long text post on tumblr. Maybe I just want to die, but I know I can't yet, when the world still needs someone like me. Maybe I have a greater purpose, maybe I matter. Maybe I don't, and the voices that scream in my day to day life are all right. Maybe I should just end my story before it gets any worse. Maybe my story will get better. Maybe I'll be ok. Maybe we'll all be ok.

Maybe I'll be loved as an object, or a pet. Maybe I'll feel cherished and appreciated. Maybe I'll be able to cry when my girlfriend holds me close. Maybe I'll be able to open a cafe just for us, where we sell tea and play music, and live out our dream. Together.

Maybe I'll be happy. Maybe I'll be better off.

Maybe I'm being too sincere. Maybe not sincere enough.

Maybe you have a lot to think about. Maybe you should reflect on yourself as a person. Maybe we all should.

Maybe I'm being too sincere.

But that's what you wanted, right?

dehumidifier? no. you misheard. i said deHUMANifier

[thefallennightmare]

Dreamstate-Noah Sebastian x Reader[JP UNIVERSE]

Parings: Noah Sebastian x Musician! Reader

Warnings/Tropes: language, angst, fluff, smut(18+), star-crossed lovers, right person/wrong time, cheating, talks of mental abuse, talks of death, depressive thoughts, talks about not being able to conceive, and endometriosis.

Summary: “I can wait for years, heaven knows I’m not getting over you.” A story about two star-crossed lovers, that always find their way back because their souls are entwined. The universe desperately attempts to bring them together, no matter what the cost.

Authors Note: Hi my loves! JP has been around for ONE YEAR! I am so thankful for all of you. I appreciate every single one of you more than I can ever express. This one-shot takes place between chapters 29 and 30! Also please know that I do not mean any disrespect to Keaton or his memory. Everything I've ever written was done with love and appreciation for him like I've done from the beginning. 🪽🖤 I will not hold it against you if you do not want to read because of it. But please know, that it's done with the utmost respect.

Tags[CLOSED]: @blueskylinesx @missduffsblog @hayleylatour @sleepyomens @loeytuan98 @artificialbreezy @marvelousmal @bngurngheart @lma1986 @wild-child-7747 @calleyx13 @illmakeyousaywow @jaded-and-hollow-souls @shayzillaaaa @badomensls @shadowseve @collective-heartbreak @klutzy-kay24 @sorrowsofsilence @sweetlittlekitsune @shilohrosechicken @itsafullmoon @toospooktocute @niicoleleigh @thatchickwiththecamera @hoe-for-daddywise @whenthesummerdies @thisbicc @sammyjoeee @joe9cool @ozwriterchick @happi-goth @softvgold @cncohshit @heyyoplayer @rain-down-on-me @respectfulrebel @reader13000 @koskeepsake @malerieee @cheyyyyr @myownthoughts12 @noahsbong @laurpartyprogram @cloudykoookie @jessiskyee @sideeyenoah @badomensls @bellaboo967 @rxdlstgn @anthemheatwave @lobolocaamo @cncohshit @amelia-acero @karenfranco @collidewiththesavannah @xserenax-13 @supersquirrel1996 @themodern-daywednesday @oxythoughtin7715

THIS IS FICTION. NONE OF THIS IS REAL.

NOAH

Blinking my eyes open, I looked around my surroundings and noticed that I was no longer in my bedroom fighting with Y/N. I was on the tour bus, our tour bus, and when I craned my head to the side to peer out the window in my bunk, I sucked in a breath at what I saw. An oddly familiar venue with a red roof. 

“What the fuck,” I muttered while rolling out of my bunk on the tour bus. “How hard did I hit my head last night?” 

During my fight with Y/N, she threw one of her sketchbooks at me in frustration and it hit me directly in the middle of my forehead. That was the last thing I remembered before waking up here in our tour bus. We didn’t have a tour planned which made this whole scene even more confusing. I stretched out my long limbs, feeling the bones pop into place, as I walked towards the front area of the bus and made it outside, wondering where the rest of the guys were. 

“Jolly? Nicholas?” I called out. 

A sudden commotion on the far end of the bus caused me to whirl around and my heart thundered in my chest with the sight before me. It wasn’t the group of people that gave me pause. It was the lone female in the group with her long blonde hair and familiar smile that made my skin slick with sweat. 

"Nice to meet you. I'm sure they've already said this but we're huge fans of Hollow Souls. Noah has your music on the playlist we play during the wait time for our shows,” Nicholas smiled while extending his hand towards the familiar blonde. 

"Shit, you guys sure know how to make a girl blush," she laughed lightly while bouncing on the soles of her feet.

“Y/N,” I breathed. 

"Malcolm, your directions-." 

Just as footsteps thundered down the steps of the bus behind me, the scene around me spun on its axis and darkness crept in. Bile rose in my throat as I felt my body being lurched forward onto the cold concrete, scraping up my palms and knees. 

“I should not have had that gas station burrito,” I grumbled while clutching my stomach. 

Slowly rising to my feet, I leaned my hand up against a car I had been literally thrown in front of, suddenly making me tilt my head towards it. This wasn’t the tour bus I had stepped down moments ago. In fact, I was in an entirely different place than before. 

“This is one fucked up dream,” I dragged my hand down my face. 

An angry voice from the other side of the van had me stepping around it slowly, not wanting to be detected on the off chance this wasn’t a dream and I was sneaking up on someone who could kill me. 

"You don't have to worry about Noah hurting her. That's the farthest thing from his mind. He might be stubborn as hell but when he cares about someone, he makes sure they know that,” Nicholas smiled over towards Chase and Malcolm. 

Furrowing my brows, I glanced over to Folio, seeing him shake out his hair before putting his hat back on. "He's a Scorpio, what did you expect?" 

“That was fucking rude,” I muttered under my breath. 

"Whether or not they admit it, they both need each other," Jolly smiled down over the cliff. 

Peering over the hood of the car, I saw two faint figures on the beach and sucked in a breath; all the memories from our beach day came flooding back in as Y/N and myself waved up at the group of guys. 

“How hard did she hit me with that sketchbook?” I rubbed at my forehead, still feeling the sting from earlier. 

It was clear that I was dreaming of past moments Y/N and I shared but I couldn’t get over how real and vivid everything was. Almost as if I traveled back in time to these moments and saw it from a different perspective, not my own. 

Why was I dreaming of these moments? Did it have a meaning? Or was it just because my brain was fucked up from all of the fighting Y/N and I had gone through?

Before I could get comfortable in this dreamstate, I felt the darkness creep in on the edge of my vision once again and all at once, my body was thrown through a tunnel only to be spat out seconds later; a different scenery from the last. 

I was now in a hotel room, unsure when and where because frankly from the years of touring the hotel rooms began to blend together. It was then that I got a look at myself in the reflection of the mirror in the room and I sighed. My hair was short, indicating what I already knew. I’d been jumping in between moments from my past. 

“Hi, angel.”

“Hi,” a soft voice broke through the quiet of the room, causing me to look over at the bed. 

No. 

My past self sat on the bed with Y/N, her head in my lap as I ran my fingers through her hair. It was evident no one could see me because I was standing at the foot of the bed, watching as my past self lowered his lips onto Y/N's, capturing them softly. 

Our first kiss. 

My heart fluttered in the confines in my chest, remembering the feeling that filled me that day. Through the dread and intense sadness from losing my best friend that day, Y/N’s unwavering comfort eased away the darkness that crept in. 

“About time, huh? I’d been trying to set you two up for years.” 

My body froze at the voice that lingered in the air; the familiar voice that I hadn’t heard in years.  I choked while whirling around at the voice, ignoring the couple in the bed who were muttering something about Mario Kart. 

The room spun rapidly before I could get my bearings, the floor getting ripped out from beneath me and my body slammed back and forth against the void before I fell onto a couch in yet another room. This one I immediately recognized, all of those feelings of hurt and abandonment crept back in as I let out a shuddering breath. 

My past self, donning those ridiculous braids, dragged a finger over the large tattoo on Y/N’s back as she cuddled the pillow close to her chest, a soft giggle echoing in the room. 

"Way down the road maybe one day in the future- to live in the middle of nowhere with a dog, cats, and a family of my own. In my wooden home that I built."

My eyes screwed shut, knowing what was going to come next. The calm before the storm. All because I asked a stupid question. 

“Think of how far you’ve come from this moment, Noah. It was rough getting there but it was worth it.”

Snapping my eyes open, I glanced around the room looking for his face. It was his voice, surely he had to be here. 

“Where are you?” I said. 

As I blinked, the scene changed yet again and now I was standing in the rain, it chilling me to the bone. Wrapping myself deeper into my hoodie, I gazed around to see my past self standing in the rain as well with Y/N, trying to stop her from getting in her car. 

“What easy way, Noah? This isn’t easy!” Y/N sighed. “None of this is easy!” 

“No it is, actually.” My past self nodded. “Don’t think about anyone or anything else. What do you want from me? What do you want, angel?”

She rapidly shook her head, choking on a sob. “It’s not that simple.”

“What. Do. You. Want?” I watched myself enunciate every word with a pound fist to my chest. 

When Y/N remained silent, I grasped her face to bring her into my warm embrace, even with the rain. “God damn it! What do you want?”

The pain in my own chest was evident, remembering how gut wrenching it felt to ask repeatedly what Y/N wanted. That night had started off great, only to be ruined by Bailey. It was my fault ultimately for not being clearer about our breakup. I tried not to dwell on it much because of how far Y/N and I have come since this night. 

A snicker sounded from my left. “Did you really quote The Notebook? Never pegged you as a romance film kind of guy.” 

Looking at the voice, I let out a gasp when the all too familiar smirk appeared on a face I hadn’t seen in years; one that my heart yearned to see again. His form began to fade in the darkness as it danced around both of us, dragging us back down. 

“No. Please, wait!” I reached for him only to be thrown into yet another memory. 

How long had I been asleep? Did this fucking sketchbook render me useless? Was I passed out on the floor of our bedroom? 

Another thing I couldn’t figure out: why was I being thrusted into my own memory lane?

A commotion of voices halted me as I stood in a crowd of people, still undetected, and when I caught a flash of red, my breath caught in my throat knowing exactly what memory I’d been thrown into. I no longer was soaked to the bone due to the rain; I was dry. 

I'm not afraid of the war you've come to wage against my sins.

I'm not okay, but I can try my best to just pretend.

The music echoed loudly in the room and I frantically looked for the couch, knowing my past self would have been sitting there. I watched as he rose from his seated position and started to push his way through the crowd, looking for Y/N as our song played; a siren call looking for their lost soulmate.

“This was one of the most irritating moments of my life,” I sighed while crossing my arms over my chest, watching as our past selves kept missing each other. 

“Do you know how hard it was to make sure you guys found each other at the right moment that night?” That voice snickered behind me. 

Whirling around, I saw those eyes that shined bright with so much light. Just like before, the second I caught sight of him, he disappeared before I could grasp him. I wasn’t sure what was more irritating: being thrown around in an imaginary void or not being able to fully see the presence that had been following me. 

For quite longer than I thought, apparently. 

Expecting to be dragged down into another memory, I simply turned on my heels to see I was now standing in a hotel hallway. My past self stood no more than two feet in front of me, hand rubbing at his chest. The words he muttered fell on deaf ears as my eyes locked with the man holding my past self up. I knew I felt someone's arms around me that day, keeping me from falling to my knees. 

“Keaton, I need you, man. Please tell me everything will be alright.” 

As a soft breeze blew past the three of us in the middle of the hallway, I kept my eyes locked with the materializing figure over my past self’s shoulder. 

“You’ve been with me this entire time,” I breathed with the realization. 

He wore a soft smile as he nodded, before slowly fading away. “It’s okay.”

Then all at once, the world around me shifted one final time, throwing me back into my bedroom at home and I fell onto the bed with a grunt. It seemed like I was back to where I was before I went on a dream walk down memory lane, Y/N’s scattered sketchbook on the floor at my feet. Movement in front of me caught my eye as I slowly rose and tentatively walked over to the bathroom, seeing Y/N and me standing there. Both of them were standing in the middle of the bathroom with bright and hopeful smiles. 

“I don’t remember this,” I said with my hands on my hips. 

I watched as Y/N wrapped herself around his midsection, both of them swaying to something before they looked over to the phone on the bathroom counter with even wider smiles. 

"Should we post it?" She asked.

Other me smiled bright, love filling those once dark eyes. "Instagram story. On there less than twenty four hours. Once we post it, lets turn off our phones to just focus on us."

“How’s she doing?

Jumping at the voice over my shoulder, I finally saw him standing in front of me and not in the ghost form he’d been all those times before. 

“Keaton,” I breathed, almost immediately wrapping my arms around him in a hug. 

His infectious laughter echoed when I tackled him. “Good to see you too, Noah.” 

We stayed like that for a long moment, trying so hard to ingrain how it felt to hug my best friend again into my memory and when we eventually pulled away, I sniffled while whipping away a stray tear. 

“I miss you so much, man,” I admitted with a shaky breath. 

“I’m always with you, Noah. Right here,” Keaton pointed to my chest then to the tattoos on the side of my hands. “And right there.” 

Ignoring the couple behind me in the bathroom, not knowing what they were waiting for, I kept my attention on Keaton. 

“You know, when I'm sleeping I sometimes talk with you. But every time I wake up, it’s like I'm waiting for a miracle.” 

I sniffled one more time with a shrug before continuing. “Maybe when the night comes, I'll find you in another world.”

“I’m not the miracle you need, Noah. But believe, it’s closer than you think.”

“Huh?” I asked, not quite sure what he meant by that.

“How’s she doing?” Keaton asked again, the colors in the room suddenly fading away, only to be replaced with a bright white light. 

My brows furrowed. “Who? Y/N?” 

Instead of answering, his smile reached his ears and bid me a final goodbye with a wink before turning on his heels and walking farther into the void of white. 

“What do you mean?!” I called out after him, desperately wanting to run after him but my feet wouldn’t move, feeling heavier than concrete. 

“In time the price of peace will cost us everything but all the love you leave carries on,” Keaton’s voice spoke in my mind one final time. 

A loud gasp fell from my lips as I sat up in bed, covered in a thick sweat as it lingered on every inch of skin. The fabric of my shirt clung to my back as I frantically looked around the room, my heart nearly bursting out of my chest. I was back in my bedroom and noticed that the sketchbook wasnt where it previously was. Matter of fact, neither was the broken picture Y/N threw at me before the sketchbook. 

My gaze locked on the date that was shining bright on our alexa home screen causing me to cock my head slightly at it, air catching in my throat. 

No. 

No way. 

It was not possible. 

“Clearly I’m dreaming again,” I murmured to myself before pursing my lips and pinching my thigh. 

“Nope, not dreaming,” I yelped in pain. 

The bed shifted next to me causing me to look down at the naked form on Y/N as she lay in a tangled mess of bedsheets and blankets. 

“Hmm,” she hummed with a smile after setting her phone down on the pillow next to her. “Astrid and Faye want to meet up with me today. I guess they both have some special news they want to tell me.” 

I blinked. “Huh?” 

“I guess something happened after The Ghost Inside set with Faye last night and Astrid found out something pretty important,” Y/N said. 

I could barely speak, still being dumbfounded with the date on the Alexa home screen. 

“Maybe I'll invite them over once I'm back home from the art store. I figured it'll be alright since you have therapy and we’re not going to dinner until four,” she sat up while letting the sheet fall to her lap. 

I was still in a state of shock that I couldn’t even gaze at her perfect breasts, my mind whirling with so many different emotions. All I could do was numbly nod.

“I must say,” she smirked while brushing away the hair from my face, laying a kiss on my lips. “It’s always great to wake up to you every morning. But on my birthday, it’s extra special.”

[firstkanaphans]

I've noticed this (as a majorly JD fan) that most people like to complain about fixed cps when it comes to FirstKhao only! It's more apparent when there are mostly no (or less) talk about it when long term CPs keep doing shows together (I mean OG are having their 7th show as a pair coming this gmmtv 2025 and they will be very much welcomed).

There is even demand for CPs that are no longer together to come back (like MaxTul -btw I love them and would love them to so another show together although I know Tul is retired from acting and so that's not gonna happen).

In short- why is there demand for FirstKhao to do works separately and not as a pair? (They have only 2 shows as a pair til now. THK is going to be their 3rd.) Is it because The Eclipse or Only Friends were not that well received?

The Eclipse and Only Friends were both incredibly well-received and were two of the most popular BLs GMMTV has put out in years, so it’s definitely not that. I’m hesitant to tell you what I really think because I’m worried I’ll get canceled for it, but I’ve already blocked everyone who disagrees with me and I’ve now reached the anger stage of my election grief so hey, what the hell.

If you want my honest opinion about why FirstKhaotung seem to be the primary target for this War on CPs, we need to go back to the Only Friends era. It’s important to note that this particular argument against CPs seems to be entirely isolated to Tumblr. Plenty of people dislike CPs or think there should be more mixing and matching of pairs, but that’s not the argument I’m talking about. What you see people saying on Tumblr is that CPs are actively ruining the industry and that writers and directors are going so far as to obstruct themselves creatively just so CPs can end up together. The first time I ever heard rumblings of this was during Only Friends.

Here’s the thing about Only Friends. Before it aired—and even in the beginning stages of it airing—a bunch of the more, ahem, “intellectual” fans seemed to have some very grand delusions about what it was and what it wasn’t. Delusions that were never supported by the canon or anyone involved in the creative process. Throughout this, a bunch of us “fangirls” (gender neutral) tried to fight back and tell them they were misreading the text, but the general consensus was that obviously we didn’t know what we were talking about because we were just fangirls.

But then guess who turned out to have interpreted the text correctly all along?

All of our predictions came true while none of theirs did and instead of admitting that maybe they weren’t engaging with this particular piece of media the way it was meant to be engaged with, they started inventing conspiracy theories about how the series would have ended differently if only it weren’t for those meddling CPs! The FK fandom has a huge faction here on Tumblr and I fear FK took most of the brunt of their anger—and is still taking it even now.

I just…imagine thinking Jojo Tichakorn secretly hates CPs and is being forced to use them against his will. Jojo Tichakorn? The same Jojo Tichakorn that’s been tweeting about SkyNani nonstop for the past month?! This man is inventing CPs that don’t even exist yet! He is one of us.

My truth is that most of this anger at CPs is actually just thinly veiled misogyny because it revs up anytime a true romance starts getting attention (such as We Are). Romances have always been overlooked and seen as “less than” simply because it is a genre enjoyed by women, but romances have just as much value as any other genre of media and despite popular belief, fangirls are capable of critical thought.

My advice? Just go on a blocking spree before THK airs because it’s only going to get worse. People hate to see women enjoying things.

[daydaydayrk420]

Anything with Chris Evans please -

Be my Meuse pt1

Chris Evans x male reader

⚠️nothing really all the good stuff is in part two⚠️

🚨 Minors and girls do not interact 🚨

Y/n/n - nickname

This ended up being longer than I intended to so I split it into two parts

______________________________________________________________

Chris is a famous actor. Most famous for playing Captain America for Marvel. He's also known for being kind and caring.

Now y/n isn't known for anything. He's no celebrity. He's just a guy who works at the local bar. On the weekends though he teaches art class.

It's a weekend class that's joined mostly by old people who are doing it for therapy.

So basically he's just hosting art therapy. But sometipmes there are people who join for the art not the therapy.

And by sometimes I mean this weekend. What's so special about this weekend? Let me tell you then.

Now pull your hand out your pants there's no porn here.

The day started the same as usual. Y/n wakes up. Does his morning routine. Watches YouTube or plays games for two Hours. Check his bag and go to his car.

The drive is half an hour long without traffic. He parks in his usual spot in front of the studio building that he shares with two more classes. Both include art but they work on different days and don't include the therapy. So obviously those two get the youngsters. While y/n gets left with old shaky hands. Which he doesn't mind. He loves seeing the people relax and smile at their art.

He walks in and sees that some of his regulars are already there. They're all elderly people. They're just by their lockers and the cafeteria getting ready for the class. The ones who notice the younger man greet him with a smile. Which he returns.

"Hey, James." Y/n greets kindly at the shorter old man. James is the oldest grandpa here. 95 to be exact. Yes, he's here for the therapy part of the class. He's a veteran. "Hey y/n/m. How are you doing son?" James greets them with a happy tone. He always saw y/n as a family. James has also been part of this class since it started. Which was five years ago.

Y/n smiles and sets down the paper bag with James's favourite doughnuts on the table where the old man had his coffee. "I'm good j. No bar fight this week." The younger man joked as he sat opposite of James. Said man laughs and takes out a doughnut.

This has become a tradition for them. Share a chat and doughnuts before every class. Sometimes even James brings something to bite on.

"What about you? You seem cheery today." Y/n asks as he removes his jacket to get comfortable. James hummed and wiped the sugar pounder off his lips. "I'm happy." He said with a content smile. Which made y/n smile too. "And I have a surprise for you." That caught the younger man with surprise.

"Oh? What's the occasion?" The younger man asks with curiosity. "Let's just say it's my thank you for the happy five years I've had so far." That melts y/n's heart. He knows James suffered with depression and that he still might be. So knowing he can make James happy is all he needs to be happy too.

"The problem is my gift is stuck in traffic and will be here in about an hour." Jame chuckles. Y/n laughs. "Oh? What kind of a gift is that then?" He jokes. He's really curious now. Stuck in traffic?

"I ain't spoiling my long-planned surprise, kid." James laughs. The younger man dramatically pretends to be annoyed but a smile creeps onto his face.

The two of them chat for a bit before they all go to their usual places in the studio.

Y/n first goes to the toilet before he starts the class.

When he returns he takes his usual spot in the front corner of the class where it doesn't block whatever they're painting or drawing. He sets his stuff where he wants it and faces the glass. He scans the faces. The elder people seem happy today. They all talk and laugh about their memories from the week.

That's until he notices a new face. A young face. But he's looking away. Y/n tilts his head. He knows that facial structure from somewhere. He's drawn it before.

"Alright. Does everyone have their supplies?" Y/n called out to get everyone's attention. He makes sure everyone nods or checks for everything.

That's when he finally catches the new face. Chris Evans. Chris fucking Evans is talking with James about what pain he's using.

"I see we have a new face here." Y/n cleared his throat to get everyone's attention. Chris looks up and smiles. "Would you like to introduce yourself or would you rather if they want to meet you they come to you." Y/n suggested as he always does so his students aren't uncomfortable.

"I'm alright thanks." Chris smiles. The younger man nods and looks at his papers to see what they're doing. "Alright so as usual. We have fruit on the stand. Or if you want to do your Topic that's fine too. The art style is all up to you, of course." He reads through his notes to make sure he's got everything. "Alright. That's about it. What song should we play first?"

The time passes by. Everyone's drawing including y/n. It's about time that y/n checks in with everyone. So he puts his brush down and goes to the first canvas. Eventually, he gets to James and rests his hand on his shoulders. "Hey, James, how's it going." He asks with a soft voice as he studies what abstract James is painting today.

It's just a bunch of paint splatter on the canvas. "The usual." The old man hummed proudly. Y/n nods and moves on to the next guy. Aka. Chris Evans. Aka Frank Adler. Aka. Y/n big fat celeb crush. But he keeps a friendly smile on his face and looks at the canvas. He stands stunned.

It's him. The charcoal outlines shape him drawing his art. "That's... Sweet." Y/n didn't know what else to say. Chris chuckles. "Thanks."

The younger man admires the drawing for a tad longer than he wanted. Eventually, he snaps out of it and looks at Chris. Who's already looking at him and smiling. Y/n blushes in surprise. Chris hands his hand out. "Chris."

Y/n wants to laugh because he obviously already knows who the man in front of him is but he doesn't and just grabs his hand. "Y/n" he shakes his hand.

"Y/n." The older man murmurs. "Handsome name for a handsome man." Y/n blushes at that again.

"So what brought you to my class?" Y/n wants to start a conversation. He doesn't want to move to the next person. He wants to talk with Chris. "Oh I was invited by James." Chris said casually as if that didn't just blow y/n's mind out of proportion. He looks at James as if asking "this is the gift?" And James winks knowingly.

The younger man faces Chris again and smiles. "James? How'd he manage to do that?" He's genuinely curious. "His granddaughter works with me. She's a movie clothing designer." The older man said as he set down his charcoal down.

"Ohh. Jasmine works with movie stuff?" Y/n asks surprised. "You know Jasmine?" Chris looks surprised. "Not personally. Just from stories." The younger man said. Chris nods. "Well I should move on. Keep up your drawing." Y/n smiled and moved on to another person.

The class comes to an end and everyone gathers their things to leave. Y/n has to stay so he can lock up. James and Chris also stay behind.

"So? Happy?" The younger man jumps in surprise when he hears James's voice form behind him. The old man laughs. "I take that as a yes."

The younger man chuckles and nods. "Thank you James. I really appreciate you doing this."

"I know you wanted to meet him for so long. And when I found out that Jasmine knows him I tried my best to bring him here." The old man grins and pats y/n's back.

"Anyway I gotta go my pick-up is here." They hugged goodbye and James left.

"You doing anything after?" Y/n jumps in surprise at the voice from behind him. Chris chuckles. "Sorry didn't mean to scare ya."

"Uh no I'm not doing anything after this." Y/n chuckles nervously. "Would you like to go get some food with me?" The older man asked with a grin. "Sure." The younger man smiles and hides the fireworks that are going off inside his body.

And so they went out. They didn't really have a specific destination they just walked until they found something they'd crave. But that of course didn't last for long because paparazzi have found them. Y/n thinks fast and takes Chris towards the parking lot in front of the studio. He walks fast and moves through some alleys so they could hopefully lose the cameras.

They make it to the car and quickly hop in. They drive off. Once they've calmed down from the adrenaline they both laugh. "Good thinking." Chris praised.

Y/n smiles. "Thanks."

They put on the radio and talk as y/n drives home.

.

..

...

[zigrethsnotebook]

I must warn you: you have a dangerous effect on my heartrate.

Ford x Reader

words: 1,807

tags: sfw, fluff, talk about the supernatural

The rain pelted down as you stared out the window in Greasy's Diner. It was just your luck that the weather turned the way it did when you were in the middle of nowhere. You sighed and took a sip of the hot chocolate the waitress had brought you. At least something to cheer you up.

You eyed the rain angrily when the man in the booth in front of you spoke up. Quite loudly, too, or you wouldn't have heard him over the rain. "The weather is only going to get worse, you know? The forecast predicted a thunderstorm from now until tomorrow." You groaned at that and slouched further into your seat as a nigh cinematic thunder shook the diner.

The man seemed amused. "What brings you to Gravity Falls anyway?" He half shouted through the diner at this point. "A thunderstorm, apparently," you grumbled, more to yourself than him, and also far too quiet for him to hear. He stared at you so you said, louder this time: "I was supposed to meet some friends at a convention on the supernatural tonight. Only about 50 Miles north from here."

The man's eyes lit up at the mention of the supernatural. "That sounds exciting! Sorry, that you won't make it there tonight." You gave him an appreciative nod. You were already annoyed at the shouting.

The man looked down to the cup in his hand for a moment, then looked back up at you, opened his mouth and closed it again before looking out the window as well. After a few moments he had gathered enough courage to speak to you again.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?"

You kind of did mind. The weather had ruined your day and you weren't exactly in the mood for small talk. Then again, with nothing to do you were already starting to get bored. Maybe he could help you find a place to stay the night if it really doesn't get better out there.

You gestured to the seat in front of you, inviting him into your booth. He smiled, grabbed his cup, walked the few steps he needed to reach you and placed his cup back down on your table as he sat down.

"Stanford Pines." He introduced himself, much quieter now, and held out his right hand for you to shake. You took it without taking your eyes off his face and introduced yourself as well. He raised one of his eyebrows, apparently amused again but you couldn't figure out why.

He had a handsome face, a strong chin, gray hair and glasses that had a little crack in them. You wondered why he hadn't replaced them.

"So... what kind of convention on the supernatural were you talking about? Something worth checking out?" Stanford smiled a genuine smile. You could feel yourself relax a little at that - so he wasn't trying to pick you up.

What a nice change of pace! These last couple months you had had many encounters with disgusting older men who thought they could lecture you on something they pretended to know more about than you. Like how the female body works and other such things.

No, this guy seemed actually interested in that convention. The convention you couldn't go to because of the storm. You sighed sadly and watched his expression fall as well. "I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you."

You gave a bitter "Ha." before actually answering. "Unless you are the cause for this storm there's nothing for you to worry about." You sighed again, starting to feel like you're being overdramatic.

"The convention is awesome. It's a yearly event, today would be the... 11th? Year for them. You see, I have a - maybe a little childish - fascination with the supernatural. And every year at that convention they gather all kinds of experts on the topic to talk about their findings. Last year they had that guy who took the photo of bigfoot! And those guys from Ghost Files!"

Stanford listened to you intendly with a small smile on his face as you continued to ramble about your favorite topic.

"I've been to that convention every year for the past 7 years. It's where I met one of my best friends in the world so it would even be special to me if it was terrible." You chuckled at yourself.

"Either way, they live in Canada and I obviously don't, so this is really the only time we see each other. And I mean, I will drive up there tomorrow after the storm settled and we'll still spend the next week together. But today is the opening of the convention - it goes on for 3 days by the way - and I'm just really bummed that I'll miss that."

You had sat upright for your explanation in excitement but slouched back into the seat at your last sentence.

Before Stanford could respond to your story the waitress showed up at your table again and topped off his coffee. "Oh, and another one of that drink, please." He pointed at your empty cup. Oh no, had you misjudged him?

"My, Mr. Pines! Barely leaves his house - but when he does...!" Before she turned to get your drink she winked at you. Or... you thought she did, it was a little hard to tell with one of her eyes constantly closed.

"You don't have to, you know?" You told him, gesturing to his cup and he immediately seemed to falter and blushed terribly. "Oh! Oh no, I wasn't suggesting... It's just. Very rare to find someone who is genuinely interested in the weird and supernatural! I just wanted to prolong our conversation."

The blush stayed on his cheeks as his eyes darted across the room and occasionally landed on you, looking for a reaction to his words. You chuckled. "Oh, I see. That's sweet of you." Maybe what the other men lacked were some manners and common sense.

The waitress set another hot chocolate down in front of you and you smiled at her and when she turned around you smiled at Stanford. After you took your first sip you decided to hear from him a little.

"So you said you like the weird and supernatural as well?" His face immediately lit up. "Yes! I've been studying the weird things happening in this town for years!" He pulled a notebook of some sort out of his coat pocket. It seemed fancy but really worn.

He presented it to you. It had a golden hand with the number 3 written on it on the cover. Something about it was a little off, but you couldn't put your finger on what. A lighting bolt lit up the sky for a second and moments later the diner shook again.

He started to flip through the notebook, talking fast and very enthused. Each page showed various creatures. Most of which sounded ridiculous, but some were more familiar to you - Gnomes, the Undead and so on.

By the time he had flipped through most of the book and explained lots of different things to you, you had each had three more cups of your respective drinks.

The book lay open in front of you as Stanford, or Ford as he later told you, downed his fourth cup. It was also getting late and you still had to find a place to spend the night, the diner would close up eventually.

You closed the notebook, signaling Ford that you would like to talk about something else now. Another thunder shook the tables as you instinctively put your hand over the golden hand on the book.

Just out of your line of sight, Ford blushed again while you realized what had felt off about that cover. The hand had an extra finger! You looked up at Stanford excitedly, and before you could even ask he held up his hands to you, showing off his extra fingers.

That fact did nothing to temper your excitement. How could it! "You are one of the creatures you study!" You had blurted it out without a second thought and quickly covered your mouth with your hands in embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, I didn’t mean to be rude." You told him in a tiny voice. He chuckled fondly. "Don't feel bad, I took it as a compliment! Very few people get excited when they see my hands. Most find them repulsive." He turned his hand around to look at it with a certain melancholy while he said that.

"Are you kidding me? Your hands are the highlight of my day!" Ford met your eyes when you spoke and you watched him blush at your words. Then you blushed as well. "I- I didn’t mean..." You trailed off, unsure how to talk yourself out of that one and instead looked out the window again. The rain was just the tiniest bit softer now.

You sighed and tried to change the subject. "You wouldn't know a nice place I could stay the night, would you?" Ford took his notebook and put it back in his coat. "Of course I do! You could stay at my place." You snapped back to face him, the blush still in full effect on your cheeks.

He didn’t falter this time. "Granted, the place is a little crowded right now, with my brother living there and our niece and nephew staying over for the summer... but they'll be happy to know I made a friend today! And also have someone else to get their minds off the storm."

Ford smiled that honest smile at you again. "Would that be alright with you?" How could you say no to that? Seriously, how?

You nodded and smiled at him. Seconds later he had paid for both of your drinks and led you out the door, both of you rushing to your car.

As you slowly and carefully drove into the woods under Ford's guidance he told you that he would set up a mattress for you in an empty storage room.

"Unless you want to sleep in a real bed, in which case you could sleep in mine, and I would take the couch there." You laughed. "Yeah! We could make a real slumber party out of it and tell ghoulish stories all night!"

Ford chuckled along. "We could do that, but I must warn you: you seem to have a dangerous effect on my heartrate. Unthinkable what would happen if you told me a ghost story."

As he said this you slowly parked your car in front of a wooden house. His house, apparently. "Are you sure that's me and not all the coffee you've been drinking?" You both laughed and then made your way through the rain once more.

Your friend won't believe a word of this tomorrow!

[rafesbabyg1rl]

The Watcher ~ Part One

Summary: Rafe Cameron x Reader, Stalker!Rafe x Pogue!Reader Reader's parents work late on Friday nights, which she spends alone. Except Reader hasn't been alone in a long time, not that she knows of at least. Rafe has watched you for years, he's very good at it. He has no plans of formally meeting you, as he's satisfied with the current arrangement. He likes it better when Reader doesn't know he's watching. But his idea of staying an anonymous stalker is ruined when reader catches him in her bedroom one Friday night. Rafe has to figure out how to fix his mistake before he loses the only thing that makes his life worth living.

Warnings: Rafe stalks reader...that's literally the entire plot. He's pretty pervy in this, I guess. Masturbation (Rafe) in front of unconscious reader, strong/vulgar language, somnophilia (I guess?), death threat(?). If I missed anything from this part that I should include in the warnings, please let me know!

Word Count: 5.9k

Author Note: My sneak peek got a few likes, so thank you if you liked it, y'all are the reason I'm finally posting this part! I'm not sure how I feel about this fic so far, I definitely have a habit of overly critiquing my own work and never being fully satisfied with it, but I'm trying to get over that. I don't have plans for this fic, it's just going in whatever direction I can think of as I write, so if you have any suggestions, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASEEE let me know, I'll write pretty much anything. This is my first work published on tumblr and the first thing I've written in years, so I hope it's at least readable, and maybe even a little enjoyable. If just one person enjoys this, then my mission is accomplished. Thank you, I hope you enjoy! And do NOT be shy to share feedback or give suggestions/requests. Again, thank you!

For those of you that DID read the sneak peek, a large portion of this part was included in the sneak peek, but I highly suggest reading it over in it's entirety. This draft has undergone several additional rounds of editing and I believe it is better than the version I published as a sneak peek.

One thing about humans is that we always want what we can’t have, especially when everyone else wants that same thing. It’s just something all humans do; but what happens when you already have more than you need and everything you could ever want? Well, almost everything. Rafe Cameron has more money than he could spend in his own lifetime, he can practically buy anything he wants. Except one thing, you.

At first he just thought you were pretty, but the more he saw you out in public the more and more he liked you. The way you’d talk or laugh when you were out with your friends…god, he could tell just how sweet you are. Too delicate for him to touch, like the wings of a butterfly or the petals of a flower. This is when he went from wanting you to needing you. 

See, another thing about humans is that we admire things. And, admiration can easily turn into obsession. Everyone has been obsessed with something or someone at some point in life, it’s normal. Obsessions will come and go, like a cycle. You get obsessed with something, you get over it, and you let it go until a new obsession marks the beginning of the new cycle. But things are a bit different for Rafe, he has never gotten over anything like, ever. Not once has Rafe Cameron ever let anything in his life go. When Rafe wants something, when he needs something, he will do whatever it takes to get it. And oh, how he needs you.

Rafe’s fascination, his obsession with you has been going on for years. He won’t ever admit it, but his perfectly curated collection of your personal items in his closet proves just how bad he’s been obsessing over you. The first thing he had ever stolen from you was your drink, you had been at the same party and you left your red solo cup about three-quarters full. Nobody noticed anything when he casually picked up the cup and finished the rest of your beer, purposely lining his lips with where yours had touched the cup, which was perfectly marked by the lipstick you had been wearing. After you’d leave a restaurant, he’d take the straws from your drinks. Rafe eventually worked himself up to breaking into your house and stealing your things when nobody was home. And Rafe made sure to explore every single inch of your room. All of your favorite panties? Gone. He’d take everything, your shirts, bras, whatever he liked really. You had noticed things kept disappearing from your room, but you’d just think you misplaced it–whatever it may be, or left it in a bag somewhere. Rafe had a good system. He knows exactly how much and how often he can take from you. 

Rafe knows he’s sick. He knows that it’s wrong to watch you from outside your bedroom window, that it’s wrong to follow you around in public, to purposely bump into you so you have to mutter a ‘sorry’ as you move around him. He just really, really needs you. And in Rafe’s twisted, dark, mess of a mind he believes this is the best way–the only way. He couldn’t treat you like every other girl, no, you were special. You were his and you just didn’t know it yet. Starting early on in his life, Rafe has always been neglected, always pushed into the shadow of his younger sister, Sarah. He’s been told he ruins everything, that everything he touches turns to ash. And you’re way too perfect to ruin. So, he follows you around like a creep, lurking from a distance. Of course you didn't know he’s been following you everywhere…he liked it better that way.

Rafe knew the line had already been crossed. Hell, the line had been crossed a long fucking time ago. He doesn’t care anymore, he needs you. Heaven is smelling like you; and not because you had left your scent on him, but because he had bought the same perfume as you. He needed to know what you smell like, how sweet you are…and how sweet you taste. Heaven is watching your chest rise and fall as you sleep peacefully in your bed. Heaven is you.

What Rafe has been doing to you for years could be defined as worship. Rafe was worshiping you. He’s your good boy; your loyal man and he was going to take care of you; protect you, even if you don’t know it yet. You’re what he lives for; you’re all that keeps him going, the only thing he cares about. 

Since he’s been watching you for years, of course he knew your schedule. Of course he knew that on Fridays your parents work late at the local bar & grill that they own. This means you slept in your house by yourself practically every Friday night. So every Friday night, Rafe would sneak in through the back door that you always forget to lock. He just wants to check on you, he wants to see his pretty girl sleeping beautifully, he wants to know that his baby is okay. This is not a crime, it’s not a crime to care; he’s not insane, he’s just in love–if you could even call it that. How can it be wrong to protect what’s his? nOh, and god forbid anyone ever get in the way of his stalking routine, if anyone were to take you away from the inevitable path of meeting him…oh, the things he would do; whatever it takes.

One unforgettable Friday night, you fall asleep on your couch watching a rerun of one of your favorite shows. You enjoy being alone. If only you knew you haven’t been alone for a very long time. You’re woken up by sudden, loud noises coming from your bedroom, but you think maybe it’s just the cat, or maybe you didn’t shut your window. You get up from the couch and in several slow, cautious steps you tiptoe over to your room. When you enter your doorway, you’re immediately greeted by the sight of a tall and broad man standing in the center of your bedroom holding the last shirt you wore to his nose, breathing in your scent. The sight of all this makes you immediately freeze and stand motionless in your bedroom doorway, staring at him blankly. 

Rafe doesn’t startle when he realizes you’ve caught him red-handed. Instead, quite the opposite actually. He’s actually a bit amused, relieved even; if you hadn’t caught him just now, he never would’ve been able to work up the nerve to finally talk to you. He didn’t want to have to be creepy about things between you two, but he couldn’t talk to you like a normal person. It’d be too unpredictable, too unknown. Meeting you like this…he has all of the control. 

“There you are,” he grinned. “How beautiful…” The strangely offputting man gloated in your fear and it was obvious.

You take a step back from where you had been frozen. He takes a step forward. This cannot be happening, you think. Your brows furrow in hopelessness and defeat. Again, you freeze where you are standing, even more afraid to move now. 

You feel like you’ve seen the man before, which you have, plenty of times; but he was careful to never have too big of an interaction, so that you couldn’t recognize his face. You have no clue that you’ve been and always will be his.

 “W-wha…who are you? W-why are you in my house?” You try to keep your voice as strong as possible, but the way your words shake with trepidation betrays you. 

The man takes a quick step forward, slowing to a stop and putting his hands up in mock surrender as you jump back. “Woah, woah, hey…calm down, alright?”, he chuckles when he sees the utter horror and complete fright in your eyes. His tone switches into one of a little more seriousness, “I'm not here to hurt you, you don't need to be so scared...”.  If you didn’t feel like your only choice was to look him in the eyes, you might even believe him. But, you had no other option but to witness the animalistic spark in his eyes that lit up with each word he spoke. With each step he took, you took one further back—your heart dropped into your stomach at the sight of his cocky, twisted smile and the way he looked at you…like you’re a zebra grazing in your natural habitat and he’s the lion waiting to pounce and attack you in your own home. 

“I just wanted to see you," he leaned up against your dresser, taking in the look on your face. His face almost instantly drops the predatory look and adopts one of mock concern, almost convincing enough to hide his amusement. “Hey, it's okay, baby, it’s okay…”

“Please,” you beg. “If you leave I won’t call the cops. I won’t tell.”

Rafe cocks his head and lets out a slow breath, as if he’s disappointed in your reaction; you aren’t supposed to want him to leave. “Hey, hey…I’m not gonna hurt you. Just listen to me…you don’t wanna have to call the cops at three in the morning,” he elaborated. He’s trying to be as convincing as he can because he cannot screw this up. Even so, he still can’t help his smile that only grows at the sight of your terrified face. He shakes the smirk off, adopting a serious expression once more. “Especially when the cops won't be able to do a damn thing.” 

He continues to step closer to you with each word. He stops once his figure is looming over you, looking at you like a lion about to pounce on its prey. “You should really be more careful, sweetheart, leaving the back door open like that at this time of night, when you’re all alone…you never know who might be out there.” His voice is cold as he warns you about the dangers of the world; the dangers of himself. 

“Who are you?” You repeated. The man looks so familiar but you just couldn’t quite place his face anywhere. You just need to know what he wants; who he is. 

“That’s not important right now baby…we’re focused on you, yeah?” The man’s eyes widen, taking in every detail of your face; the only other times he’s seen you this close is when he watches you sleep. 

You could feel his breath on your face as he spoke. The look in his eyes tells you to take another step back, but when your back collides with the wall you jump; there’s nowhere left for you to go and that was exactly how he wanted it. He wanted you like this alone, afraid, and cornered. He loved your fear. The man stares at you with a predatory look although aside from the darkness and lust in his eyes, you can see something else, but…what is it?  

“W-what do you want?” You ask, keeping as calm as you can. Even though with every passing second the air gets thinner and thinner. Your stomach is in knots and your throat starts to close up. Not to mention the stinging tears in your eyes, threatening to fall at any given moment.

“Me?” he cocked an eyebrow, his eyes shamelessly roaming your body as he blew out a huff. “I just wanna have a little chat, that's all...” The unknown man takes another step towards you, invading your personal space, his tall frame towering over you as his bottom lip finds a home between his teeth. Rafe reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. “No need to be so scared, baby...”

“T-talk about what?” You have no idea what this man who you don’t know, could possibly want to talk about with you. Why is he acting like he knows you when you’re sure you’ve never even seen him before? Why is he…admiring you? No, that couldn’t be right. The mystery man is so confusing, all his twists and turns giving you whiplash. 

“Ah, you see...” he responds, pausing to place his other hand on the wall behind you, almost trapping you in. You feel his hot breath against the sensitive skin of your face, burning you like hot steam. His breath was slow and steady. He was completely calm. He liked this. He gave you a genuine smirk, bringing his face closer to your ear. “It’s more of a proposition really…”

“What is it…?” You ask. Not out of curiosity because honestly, you’re too afraid to know. But because you figure things might, just might go better for you if you play along. He stayed silent for a moment—enjoying the look in your eyes and your erratic breathing.

“All this fear…all this trembling...” he trails off as he brings his hand up to your chin, his thumb slowly tracing the outline of your lower lip. “It's nice to finally meet you...” He chuckles and leans in so that his lips nearly touch your ear. “Will you stop shaking like that if I tell you what I want?” His thumb moves from your bottom lip and he tucks a piece of your hair behind your ear; he doesn’t want anything getting in the way of his view of your pretty face.“Hmmm?” he challenged. “Or will you still be shaking like a scared little puppy?”

“I-I don’t…” You stutter, not being able to speak or even think clearly with the way he’s glaring at you. 

“Shhhh… ” he tutted, bringing his other hand from the wall to your lower back and drawing you even closer to him—until your body was almost flush against his, his touch surprisingly warm. “You're not answering my question,” he whispers your name as he runs his fingers through your hair, it’s softer than he’d imagined. 

“Please just…” The tears were no longer threatening as they began to fall down your cheeks. “Please…” Hearing this man who you do not know, say your name, was probably the most frightening thing to happen to you yet. 

“Shhh, stop that...” he calmly commanded when he saw the tears falling from your pretty eyes. Rafe's voice was soft but stern—he hated seeing you so distressed. His hand moved from your lower back to your chin, making you look up at him. “Hey it’s okay…it’s okay baby, no need for tears. I just wanna talk to you is all." You almost believe him for a moment with how sincere the glint in his eyes appeared. But you’ve picked up on his manipulative expressions. 

“My parents will be home soon…” You vaguely remember your parents mentioning something about something and blah blah blah…they’re closing early tonight. You really hope it’s true and isn’t just a figment of your imagination; something your mind is making up so you don’t completely give up. 

A cocky smile returned to his face as he let a small huff of amusement slip past his lips. He knew your parents were working late, just like every other Friday night. "Bullshit,” he chuckled. His hand moved back to your lower back, holding you against him. “It’s just you and me, pretty girl.” He grabs your waist and within the next second, you’re on your bed and he’s hovering over you. You can feel his hot breath in your ear, you can smell him, feel the excessive heat radiating from his body. He speaks quietly now, more serious than he’s been this entire time, “Don’t ever fuckin’ lie to me again. Got it?”

His words provoke a small whimper from you. How long has he been watching you? What’s he gonna do? What does he want to talk about? Your mind is filled with questions you’re too afraid to ask. “I-I’m not lying.” He leans down, his lips almost touching yours. Rafe’s eyes are looking straight into yours, admiring the complete and utter fear your eyes possess. He doesn’t want you to be scared of him. But fuck, does he love it.

“Oh yeah?” He mumbles as he presses his face into your hair, taking in your scent. He can’t believe he’s finally this close to you. He didn’t think it’d ever happen, and if you didn’t catch him tonight, it probably wouldn’t have. It’s meant to be, he thinks. “What did I tell you about lying, hm baby? I know you’re fuckin’ lyin’ to me, so you wanna try that again?”

Before your brain could muster up some bullshit response, the sound of the front door unlocking echoes through the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe holds his breath and puts his hand over your mouth, causing your eyes to widen as he leans to the side to glance down the hallway at the front door. “Shh…”, he whispers. You weren’t lying. Your parents came home from work early and they’re about to turn the doorknob and come inside the house. Rafe looks at you, the look in his eyes beyond unsettling. “Tell the cops…tell anyone, and I’ll come back and fuckin’ kill you, okay? This is our secret. Don’t make me come back and hurt you babe, I really, really don’t wanna have to do that, alright?” 

He has to be bluffing, right? But, when you look up to meet his gaze, you can tell; you can tell he meant every single syllable that he spoke. It’s not like the cops would believe you if you said you had a stalker anyways, you’re a pogue. And cops never believe a pogue. Rafe doesn’t need a response from you, the fear in your eyes tells him all he needs to know.

 Just before you hear the front door open, Rafe smirks at you. “We’re gonna have so much fun together baby.” Reluctantly, the disturbed man leans back and takes his hands away from you. Without another word, he walks over to your bedroom window and pushes it open. Before ducking to climb out, the large man looks back at you. Your breath hitches even further if that’s even possible.

 “Goodnight puppy.” The outline of his smug grin is visible even in the darkness of your room. Just as you hear the quiet voices of your parents enter your house, the dark figure turns and exits your window. When the man is outside you sit up and rush over to shut and lock the window behind him. 

With caution, Rafe watches as your mother comes to peek her head in your bedroom. She only lingers in your doorway long enough to see your dark shape laying in bed. Covered in blankets, you pretend to sleep, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to hold a casual conversation with your mother at the moment. And the last thing you want to do is raise any alarm. Not while he’s out there–whoever he is. Hot, salty tears fall from your eyes, wetting the soft skin of your cheeks. When she shuts the door, you let out a shaky breath, finally being able to breathe.But, you keep your eyes sealed shut. At least then you can’t see if the man is still watching you from outside your window. You lie awake for hours, how are you meant to go back to sleep after whatever the hell just happened? All you can do now is wait. Is he coming back? When will he come back? Who is he? Why does he want you? There’s a million different questions and worst scenarios circling around in your head. So, you just wait, it’s all you can do. 

As you wait, the hours turn into days, days turning into a week as the next Friday approaches you; you spend your time worrying about having to be home alone again. There still had been no sign of him since your encounter last week, but you decide to stay the night at a friend’s house, not wanting to take the risk. The second Friday after you came face-to-face with your stalker, you get a friend to spend the night with you. And now, after four weeks of waiting there’s still no sign of the deranged man. Although, if you had no knowledge of him stalking you for years he clearly is good at staying hidden. As the fourth Friday approaches, you think over your options. You can go to a friend’s house or have a friend stay over, as you’ve been doing. But, you’re tired of waiting for something to happen. You’re sick of not feeling safe in your own home and of having to look over your shoulder at all times. You used to love being alone, and now it’s been weeks since you’ve spent any time to yourself. You’ve had enough. This Friday you’re not hiding, you’re done being a coward. You will not allow this creep to keep taking away everything you love; you won’t allow yourself to waste any more time worrying about that psycho. So, you stay at home by yourself. He’s not gonna show, right? He was just bluffing or on drugs or something, that’s what you convince yourself.

You pull back the fluffy comforter on your bed and climb in. You pull the covers up and completely over yourself, you used to do this as a little girl when you’d have a nightmare or you’re scared of the thunder or the monster in your closet. If the blanket could protect you when you were little it should work now…right? Well, maybe it’d still work if you had a nightmare, but logically, what is it gonna do against your stalker? But no matter how much you force yourself to believe that he’s not coming back, you still find yourself praying. You’ve never been very religious, but recently you pray to whoever will listen. 

You had bought some sleeping pills from the store a few days after you discovered your secret stalker. They helped you sleep, since your brain hasn’t once stopped thinking about him since the whole fiasco. Reaching over, you pull out the drawer of your nightstand. You grab the bottle of pills, you swallow a couple dry and set the rest on your nightstand. The pills start to kick in quite sooner than usual, must be because you took double the amount…you’re gonna need them to fall asleep tonight. Your first night alone in weeks. In just a few short minutes, you’re out cold, buried underneath an absurd amount of pillows and blankets.

Rafe spent the past few weeks feeling overwrought after what he did. He feels wrong–a feeling he’s not used to experiencing. But it’s because he knows he’s ruined any chance he might’ve had with you. Before you caught him in your bedroom, he had a chance that you could meet him regularly and think he was just a normal guy. But now, all hopes of you ever thinking he’s ‘normal’ have been abandoned. He actually feels shame and…regret for his actions? He’s been seeing less and less of you, and it’s making him angry, so fucking angry. Your schedule has been relatively the same for the past years and now you’re switching it up? You’re hiding from him; running from him just like everyone else in his life. Maybe the things his family has been saying about him for most of his life is true; maybe everything he touches does turn to ash. God, why does he ruin everything? 

You are the one thing, the only thing that Rafe did not want to ruin. You’re the one thing in his life that’s too perfect to ruin…too innocent. But, the damage has been done. He doesn't have many options left. He could leave you alone, but then he’d be weak for not sticking to his word and he can’t have you thinking he’s weak and that you have the power. He could go back, but then what would he do? There was absolutely no way in hell you’d seriously talk to him, and he didn’t want to force himself onto you. He really wanted you to need him back, you have to want it. But everything you do or say now will be out of fear, it’ll be you trying to stay alive. He wanted you to be desperate for him, not desperate to get rid of him. Either way, you’re never gonna forgive him; you’ll always hate him now. Since you’ll feel the same no matter what he does now, he decides that he just needs to see you, he needs to talk to you again. It’s been far too long since he’s been close to you. He can’t take another goddamn second without seeing his reason to live.

He hurries over to your house, parking an entire block away as usual. He makes sure no eyes are on him as he sneaks around to your backyard. Rafe tries peeking through the curtains that block your window to see if you were in bed or not, but he can’t get a good view. He needs to know if you’re home. He needs to see you. 

Rafe sneaks around to the side of your house, checking all windows and doors in the process, but he has no such luck. But he doesn’t give up yet, he’ll get in, he’ll find a way. He tries the side door that leads into your garage. He lets out a giant breath of relief when the door clicks open. Once he’s inside the garage, he takes a quick glance around to analyze his surroundings and burn every inch of your house into his memory. When he finally enters your house, he takes his time to look around. Obviously Rafe knew you were a pogue–he knew everything about you, but you never really looked or acted like one. However, the inside of your home puts your life on display, making it very clear you’re a pogue. 

You sleep soundly, only being interrupted by the occasional dream; completely unaware that your stalker is making his way down the hall and into your bedroom. Rafe opens the door quietly. Your room is dark like the rest of your house, but the moonlight shining through your thin curtains provides just enough light that he can see the outline of your sleeping body. Now that your presence has been confirmed, he feels like he can finally breathe and he lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding. 

Before he became totally obsessed with you and he’d see you occasionally in public, you used to just make him horny. He’d catch a glimpse of your smile or hear the softness in the way you spoke, or the innocence in your sweet laugh and his dick would be hard within seconds. And when his obsession grew and he’d watch you more frequently, sex with other girls started not doing anything for him. He needed you…he needs you. When he actually started paying attention to the way you spoke, the way you acted, he fell in love–what he thinks is love anyways. Rafe realized you’re the sweetest, most pure person he’s ever known. He didn’t think people like you really existed. His discovery led him to watch you more closely, he started taking more risks just because he needed to find your flaw. There’s no way you’re actually this perfect, it has to be an act. Now, after years of watching you he can confidently say that you really are just that perfect. Rafe needs you for more than just getting off now, he needs your comfort, he needs the kindness that radiates off of you. Which is why he’s always trying to find a way to get closer to you, he needs to absorb your sweetness. But hes really done it now; he’s fucked up big time. You hate him.

He hadn’t realized that the hate he brought upon you would tint the kindness that radiates for your being. He has to get you to let go of the hate he’s caused you, he needs you to be yourself again. He just doesn't know how, if it’s even possible.

 As you sleep soundly, his large frame towers over you as he stares down at you through the darkness. You look so peaceful, so innocent. It physically pains him to know that he’s taken away parts of your innocence. All he can do is stare at you as he mentally curses himself. He can’t wake you up and ruin your small moment of peace. It’s better if you don’t know he’s there. 

Your stalker slowly raises his hand and uses his thumb and pointer finger to pull your blanket down to your knees. Even with the blankets pulled down most of your body was hidden from him. Almost everything is left to the imagination in the loose, patterned pj pants and the oversized, long sleeve shirt that you’re wearing. He can only see a small portion of your lower stomach due to your shirt slightly riding up. And that small bit of skin is enough to trigger his memories of you. Because of course he’s seen you countless times; he’s got your body memorized.

He’s practically panting as he takes in the sight of you, imagining that you’re unclothed beneath him; his memory is sharp enough to almost see it. His cock grows to press against his jeans and his eyes trail up to your beautiful face. The ache in his needy cock starts to become unbearable. Your name slips past his lips in the form of a mumble when he starts to palm himself through his newly tightened jeans. 

Okay, Rafe has definitely jerked off to the thought of you, your smell…everything about you makes him lose whatever control he ever even had to begin with. Something he hasn’t gotten to do yet is jerk off with you right in front of him as a live viewing source, fresh for his eyes. He’s gonna be able to cross that off the bucket list soon enough; he can’t wait any longer. His hand stops its ministrations over his jeans as his head turns and he moves over to your closet, grabbing a pair of delicate, worn panties from the top of your laundry hamper. He brings the treasure up to his nose to smell you. God, he could cream his fucking pants right now. He quietly walks back over to you, taking a look at the pill bottle on your nightstand. He picks it up with his free hand, eyes quickly scanning over the label. He smirks as he sets it back down. Rafe turns his head to look back at you. His smirk grows even wider as he leans back, cocking his head as he observes you. Yeah, you’re definitely gonna be out for a while.

With his pants and boxers around his ankles, he stands over you. Your panties between his hand and his cock as his fist slowly pumps up and down his length. His other hand meticulously pulls your shirt up to reveal your chest.

“Fuckkk…” he whispers under his breath as his bottom lip is held captive between his teeth. Your perfect tits are spilling out of your bra as you lie asleep on your back. He lightly fiddles with the ends of your hair as his hand pumps over his dick repeatedly and without rhythm. He takes his time, Rafe never likes to rush this. Especially not with you.

Your subconscious mind reacts to his light touch and sounds, pulling you into a wet dream; seeing as a main side effect of the medication you took was vivid dreams. You’ve also been unusually horny lately, probably because you’d been too afraid to touch yourself when you thought you were being watched twenty-four/seven. His fingers trail up your stomach and into the valley of your breasts with feather light touch.

You stir a bit, not because you felt him, but because the dream you’ve been thrown into by your subconscious is starting to get your body all worked up. You’ve been extra horny recently and keep having sex dreams since you haven’t been able to touch yourself the past few weeks, having a stalker and all. As he leans down to lightly kiss the skin in between your boobs, a moan slips past his lips, vibrating off of your skin and interrupting the mostly silent room. The only other sound that can be heard in the quiet room is that caused by Rafe’s hand quickly moving up and down his cock; the friction caused by the soft fabric of your panties generates a quiet noise. Pre-cum leaks from his slit and seeps into the fabric of your recently worn panties. He leans back down to create a hickey on your chest and hopes that you won’t wake up from the sudden feeling, although if you did that might be even better. Shaking the selfish thought out of his head, he sucks strongly at the smooth skin between your beautiful tits. He pulls his mouth off with a pop! Leaning back to see the mark he left, he smirks knowing you’ll see it too eventually. The already rhythmless movements of his hand gets even more erratic the closer he gets to reaching his orgasm. 

The man standing above you runs his hand back down your chest and abdomen as you sleep. Completely unaware of what's happening to your physical body right now, you begin to get all wrapped up in your dream. You only ever get sex dreams when you’re so overly horny, which you’ve been the past few weeks. That combined with the sleeping medication you took, made this particular dream feel different; it felt so…real. The only dream-like part about it was that you couldn’t see the man's face for whatever reason. 

While you’re in a deep sleep, you involuntarily let out a needy whine as your active mind plays games with you. When Rafe hears you he thinks he imagined it, until he hears you do it again. He wonders if you could feel him, except he’s not even touching you right now. Realizing that's clearly not the reason, he furrows his brows in confusion. He pulls the duvet cover completely off of you to reveal the way you keep periodically squirming as your body searches for the same feeling your mind is experiencing; and the way your toes tighten up and curl as you’re tricked into thinking you feel pleasure. 

He can’t take it, not when you look like this. The man hovering over your unconscious figure lets out a lewd moan that corrupts the silence as hot strings of his cum spurt out of the pink, glistening tip of his cock and onto the pair of your panties that he's got clenched in his fist, immediately soaking into the fabric. Surprisingly, when he gets through his orgasm, he adoringly covers you back up with your blankets and leaves your house, locking the door he entered through to be sure you were safe. He got enough to satisfy him for now as he works on a plan to change the way you think of him.  He’ll be back for more of you soon enough. He has to fix this; the biggest mistake he’s ever made and the only regret he’ll ever carry. 

To be continued...

Thank you for reading! I hope this was enjoyable and not a waste of time. I spent a lot of time on this part, especially with the editing since I never really feel done with anything. If you have literally ANY feedback, questions, or suggestions, PLEASE feel free to let me know! I don't really have any solid plans for this fic so if you have any ideas I just might include them, there's not much I won't write!