#a lot of people like all of these exist and shouldn't be ignored or pushed aside

[cl0ckworkpuppet]

all headcanons are cool but i think we should see more headcanons of:

detransition

gender/sexuality questioning

gender/sexuality apathetic

transhet

intersex

exes (literally my favourite dynamic ever it's so funny)

[decolonize-the-left]

it's not accurate to act like the feminist movement in rok is free of terfs/only has incidental issues with transmisogyny. there's rampant transmisogyny in rok feminism. there's not a lot of english-language scholarship about it, but look up the kind of rhetoric and policy that was on sites like megalia/WOMAD, or the trans woman who was accepted to a women's university but got harrassed into withdrawing by terfs/conservatives in 2020. i'm sure you mean well but your post is irresponsibly misleading about the content and ideology of current-day korean feminism

I never said RoK doesn't have TERFs or a widespread radfem problem.

We in the USA have them and depending on where you are a transwoman might get the same treatment. There have been 538 pieces of anti-trans legislation presented in the USA this year alone. Florida specifically is turning into a straight up anti-trans fascist state.

TERF/radfem ideology is gaining ground in the USA and theyve actually been the people pushing a lot of these bills through with supporters like the heritage foundation. For example:

Several other states are starting to follow suit now that they see whats possible. US progress is deeply turning backwards. This is largely being allowed to happen by a public who isn't fighting back. The only people really talking about any of this is in fact trans people or the people close to them.

That said, radfems and such shouldn't be made out to be the face of feminism.

They're not and I would never say they are because there are Actual feminists fighting against them and trying to stop them from co-opting feminism.

Radfeminism is gaining ground, sure, but I'd still never say that it's representative of US feminism or even feminism really.

Feminism is about gender equality. TERFs/Radfeminism is about gender separatism, defining women by their sexual ability, and catering to patriarchal views of gender as a "rebellion" against actual feminism. Ask a radefem what defines them and they'll say their uterus.

Does your ability to create babies for the patriarchy define you as a woman? Of course not.. especially when feminists have been seeking to destroy that idea.

How can you be feminist and fundamentally disagree with it's premise?

It's more like anti-feminsim than anything else. Especially when we consider that feminists have fought generations to be defined by more than their sex, that the genders are equal and have equal abilities, that women have a Right to be in spaces considered for men, and try so hard to fight against the way that patriarchy defines women as maids, wives, and breeders who should be pretty and thin.

Anyone who steps outside that definition should be celebrated as a success story. Proof that the gender binary is bigger and more complicated than believed. Proof that women and womenhood are too expansive and too complex to be limited by such a small minded definition.

That to say.... Just because it's a massive problem...doesn't mean that radfems are the face of feminism. And saying that doesn't mean I'm ignoring their existence either.

I just wouldn't ever ever validate them successfully co-opting feminism. And I wouldn't Let them have it either by saying "well I guess there's so many radfems in this movement that I guess it's their's now" either.

All this to say, I'm aware. It was actually kinda difficult to find resources on the 4b movement that weren't transphobic.

The point is fighting patriarchy tho right? That means fighting transphobia. And since there ARE Korean women and other people doing that and talking about it, I'm going to focus on progress. Not whatever the fuck radfems are doing.

And I'm going to trust that as feminism makes more strides in gender equality that the groups of radfems will shrink. And that are more people will see radfems/TERFs less and less like feminists and more and more like the Patriarchy Preservers they are.

[keshetchai]

I think a huge problem in internet Judaism (also sometimes irl!) discussions is often that we're so focused on fighting or pushing back on misconceptions, Christian normativity, and distorted Christian ideas about our theology — that sometimes in the pursuit of this, we forget to approach a more complicated internal reality, or we overlook parts of our own religion while trying to not assimilate.

Things like the Talmud talking about Yom Kippur being a happy day. A lot of folks were surprised and didn't know there's a huge tradition that YK is supposed to be a positive holiday and many Jews observe with joy. Then some folks went on to elaborate that if someone wished them a happy Yom Kippur and they were Jewish it was fine, but if they were gentiles who simply didn't know anything and didn't bother to learn, then they were annoyed by the lack of care re: cultural nuance or whatever.

But like...of all the annoying christian-normative bullshit that exists — someone trying to wish me a happy holiday on a holiday that is noted to be solemn AND positive, but not really knowing anything about my religion — that doesn't really make a list of things I have time to be mad about! Or even irked by!

There's a lot of ways in which people are shitty and careless or make it obvious they consider our non-christian holidays an annoying quirk they have to acknowledge, but "happy yom kippur!" Is not one of them. Sometimes I just have to remind myself that I want other people to assume the best of me, even when I am the one who is socially awkward or ignorant, or stumbling around just trying to be an okay person. And sometimes I am the clueless one who has only a shallow understanding of someone's interior life/culture and I said/did nothing actually offensive but treated the situation the same way I treat similar ones in my own life because everyone has cultural blinders somewhere.

So sometimes, I have to look at other people doing The Thing and ask myself if it's at all malicious or harmful, and if it ISN'T, shouldn't I assume the best of another human bumbling around like I do all the time? "Hey thanks. Yeah I had a meaningful holiday."

Likewise, YES, we do have a history of wrestling with G-d and pushing back and asking questions and so on, but no, stiff-necked isn't wholly complimentary, it's...frequently the opposite of that. And the knee-jerk reaction is often to push back against Christianity and Islam vilifying Jews and their stubbornness/failures/wrongs in the Bible. Which is totally reasonable, there's a huge history of a theology of antisemitism and blaming there that impacts us today.

HOWEVER, we can push back against the antisemitic theologies and interpretations of these stories without necessarily having to recharacterize everything beyond recognition?

Yes, Abraham yelled at G-d that one time, and it was great. It may have even been a test of Abraham. Yes, Israel wrestles with G-d. Yes, the Jews in the desert complain to Moses they are dying of thirst and ask what was the point of leaving Egypt if they should only die while wandering instead?

Great. Love that. BUT ALSO: yes stiff-necked is not always a compliment. Yes, the Israelites struggled and made mistakes, and are utterly and painfully human just like people are today. Flawed. We are not so stiff-necked as to say we have not sinned!

Is anything as scary as a group that admits no flaws? No errors of judgment? Never questions themselves or learns from past mistakes? Idk to me, it's all very "with great responsibility comes great accountability, and power isn't the point here." Yes? If we take pride in the moments of arguing and the pushing back, then by that same token, we have to own the failings just as much to learn from. The relationship between G-d and Jews is a two way street.

It's not a failing to be an imperfect human, but it would be a failing to screw something up and then never admit it or keep doing it when you can change.

Idk I just...there's got to be ways we can dig into meaty and interesting stuff without having to constantly be like "just because some ancestors screwed up and G-d was angry at them doesn't mean you can say Jews lost the love of God and the covenant and were replaced you absolute weirdos."

[talesdevourer]

I'm cackling (or how sjm would write "I'm choking on my wine") (seriously how many times did she made someone choke from containing their laugh while drinking?) thinking about dear Sarah dropping hints in her ig stories and giggling looking at the ship war.

But seriously, all these bullying remarks and aggressive posts are unsettling, I want to be openminded and never block tags but maybe I should do it for my mental health, since reading about my fav ships is my own creative way to free my mind from all the shit of adult life and fill it with fantasy worlds and art. This space shouldn't be used to insult other people preferences. I've been in lot of different fandoms for 15 years or more and I can recognize that this level of toxicity is quite high (and i know toxic fandoms, I'm an ARMY, iykyk).

Idc if the song is Elriel coded, if audible commented or whatever. She could be joking with all of us and later drop a bomb. She could absurdly be at a point in her book where Elain and Azriel are officially a couple but she still feels the bond or something that push her to want to explore it but feels guilty toward Azriel. Or towards herself and her idea of real love. Or guilty because she rejects the idea of the mate bond that everyone craves for. We literally don't know.

The only thing I know almost for certain is that Elain is in denial. She (and a whole lot of people apparently) is ignoring the bond, probably and rightfully because it's related to the most traumatic event of her life and she misses terribly her human life, or she thinks that she's denied of the free will of choosing her partner, but she's wrong. Accepting the bond is as much of a choice as rejecting it, but as far as we've read she is avoiding it with all her might. She's avoiding Lucien not because he's some gross nasty stinky male or because he is the Lucien Vanserra, she's avoiding him because he's her mate and she doesn't want to address the matter. She shouldn't be afraid of him since he never showed aggressive behavior to her, and before-Cauldron-Elain would be at least polite with him like she would be with everyone in the same room she is. I know what she feels, I often avoid facing problems by pretending they don't exist 🥲 (like that one email I should've sent like a week ago?)

What I mean is, Elriel won't happen or won't be a true and sincere love until she doesn't address her bond before, because she'll always live with the fear of feeling drawn to Lucien if she gets a bit closer to him, because of the bond. And to me that looks like jumping in someone else arms to prove myself that I'm in charge of me and my choices, when in reality I'm just running away.

Whatever, I'm always going to enjoy what I like the most about this fandom and the nice people part of it, who like to respectfully share contents, thoughts and arts about it. 🩷

(Ok my rant time is over, my ao3 time is coming)

[qqueenofhades]

I came across a post about some show called The Other Two and it was making fun of Angels in America and I just...I didn't know how to react to it beyond rage. Like do young LGBT+ people understand how important that play is? How much it meant to our community and still means? Why are we all so irony poisoned that we put down the things that gave us comfort in a time where all of us are faced with the very real possibility of being erased from existence and murdered by the right wing nut jobs passing horrible legislation calling us child groomers. I'm so fucking sad and angry.

I'm in two minds about young LGBTQ people these days. On the one hand -- it's great that they get to grow up in an environment where they can (more or less) be themselves, have institutional supports like marriage and Pride Month and LGBTQ characters in media and plenty of visible discussion. It really, really is. All of that progress was hard won and we shouldn't WANT them to have gone through the exact same struggles as their elders. That's always the thing -- fight so your kids can have a better life, and we shouldn't want that to be any other way.

On the other hand, because this is the case, a lot of younger LGBTQ people don't respect the community's struggles, believe that they're real, learn its history, or understand the magnitude of the threat it is once again facing now. Instead they end up doing things like embracing TERF logic and arguing on social media about who has the right to use the most hyper-specific microlabel, pushing us all into smaller and smaller separate boxes because "queer is a slur!!!" and relentlessly gatekeeping and moralizing at other vulnerable people, both inside the community and outside it. And man, that just does not sit right with me. Of course, not all of them are like this, but a not-insubstantial number are, and it troubles me.

As for Angels in America: I saw Part 1 live in 2010, after reading both parts beforehand. It knocked the fucking SHIT out of me, and this is even before I had consciously realized that I myself was queer (though I was already reading a ton of queer lit/history like This Just Seems Neat, because I was clueless). So I don't know why the irony-poisoned postmodern masses feel the need to get their jollies out of taking shots at it, especially since, once again, times have changed and LGBTQ art and experience is represented in a whole lot of other ways than just "AIDS tragedy." Which is as it should be! But if anyone thinks that it's okay to then mock, minimize, ignore, or otherwise discount everything that led us to the point of them smugly having the ability to do that, then yeah. Fuck off. Jfc.

[alltheselights]

Hi Emma! I really value your opinion, and I was just wondering about your thoughts on everything? I.E. the fandom, Louis… You always seem so levelheaded compared to others so I wanted to ask. Have a good night!

My only real thoughts about it are that it's really tiring to be in this fandom and see what's happening with Louis. On principle, I'm probably an exception to a lot of Larries in that I don't really care if he wants to dunk on Larries, though he chose a really stupid way to do it. A large group of these fans try to make everything he does about Harry and disrespect him regularly. For me, that's not the part that really bothers me.....it's everything that comes along with it.

I wish I understood the contradictory choices that Louis makes regularly but I just don't. He wants success and enjoys success, but he continues to surround himself with incompetent team members who don't promote him properly. He wants a broader audience to enjoy his music, but nobody outside of his existing fanbase ever hears about his music unless it's from fans' efforts. He wants people to take him seriously as a musician and is annoyed by Larries, yet he pushes other aspects of his personal life to the forefront of his public image through interviews, his documentary, and tweets. He's proud of his most recent album and feels that it represents him as an artist, yet he cuts those songs from his setlist on tour and performs covers instead. He cares more about touring than anything, but he frequently skips songs from his setlist, doesn't put effort into his stage outfits (or even hair sometimes now), and has said several times that he's hungover and not feeling his best during his shows. He adores his fans and treats them incredibly well most of the time, but the fan interactions that frequently get traction with a broader audience are things like yesterday's rude tweets or him aggressively flipping off fans who tried to rip his clothes at the barricade (as deserved as that may be, it's not really a good look).

It's just.....so incoherent? Like I truly don't understand why he and the people around him make the choices that they do based on what he himself says he wants and cares about.

He's playing some massive venues on his Latin American tour, which was just announced, and yesterday was the perfect opportunity to talk about that and push how excited he is about it during his Twitter reply spree. Instead, even 24 hours later, all people are talking about is his reply to that Larrie when he could have just fucking ignored that stupid ass tweet. A bunch of things related to that tweet were trending on Twitter - along with "Freddie" because of his two tweets about his supposed child - and now there are articles about another Larry denial. Is Louis on tour? Has he put out any albums? Is he still a musician at all? Nobody in the general public has any idea, but at least they know that he denies Larry on a near yearly basis and that he has a kid that is apparently his twin. Congrats!

And it's annoying because solo Louies are so busy enjoying that a Larrie got publicly dunked on that they can't even see that this kind of shit actually doesn't help Louis at all. Oh, sure, it's driving away fans! And I know that a lot of solo Louies think Louis would be better off without Larries (and trust me, I feel that about some Larries too when they're making everything about a relationship instead of his career) but the reality is that Louis shouldn't drive away fans. There are ways to deal with annoying fans that don't include publicly degrading them and making MORE fucking headlines about rumors that you supposedly want to die out. If he was actually trying to expand his fanbase and then tried to get rid of fans that aren't here to appreciate him as an individual or his solo career, I could respect that.....but that's not what's happening. Instead, he drives away existing fans and does nothing to add new ones.

As someone who has loved him since 2012 and wants nothing more than his success, watching his lost potential over the course of so many years has been one of the worst things ever. I see things like what happened yesterday and see the reactions to it (both people getting angry and leaving AND people rejoicing because they're too short-sighted to realize that this doesn't solve problems and only hurts Louis in the long-run) and I just roll my eyes. I'm not upset, I'm not angry, I'm just tired. It's hard to keep saying that you want better for someone who doesn't seem to want better for themselves.

[system-of-a-feather]

this probably isn't what you meant when you said people could ask you about late stage recovery stuff, but i really have no idea where/who else to ask, so i hope this is okay

so i relate a lot to how people describe their own experiences with functional multiplicity (and to some degree final fusion as well, but to a lesser degree), but i've never been in any kind of actual treatment for anything. i'm not sure if i could have DID or another dissociative disorder at all (they aren't really seen as real by psych professionals in my country, so can't be assessed), but i know i experience myselves as more than one and people i've discussed it with irl don't really understand it at all.

so i was wondering if maybe you had any thoughts to what that could be..? i doubt it could be DID since no treatment and if i even have ptsd it's very mild, but i also know my experiences aren't normal and i haven't seen anyone but late stage recovery DID systems describe anything similar

i hope it is ok to ask, you seem knowledgeable and i have no idea where else to ask. thank you for reading

I might be saying a bit of an unpopular opinion to the online community here and might get shot in the foot for it (unfortunately, but I don't care really) but I don't think you have to pathologize it if you don't find benefit to it.

What I mean is largely just that it doesn't have to inherently be DID or a dissociative disorder to experience yourself as more than one and if you aren't experiencing distress from it, there is no real need to put a medical label on it. There is a lot of rhetoric about complex dissociative disorders being the only real way to experience one's self as more than one because DID is almost exclusively seen as a result of trauma - but that's just not true if SOLELY on the fact that the experience of being one or many in a largely subjective experience and a way of how one likes to look at themselves.

There is no real valid way to accurately measure "perception of multiple selves" because biological approaches ignore the actual and practical reports of individuals and self reports ignore the real biological underpinnings of things like DID and all. And thats a lot of jargon to say "No real study can properly examine the whole breath of human experiences across cultures and biological backgrounds through all research perspectives" and just that you really shouldn't sweat people saying XYZ is unscientific cause BOTH sides will say that and BOTH sides are equally right and wrong depending on your research perspective.

That said, if it is causing you distress or posing you problems, I do strongly recommend talking about it with a therapist. Yeah some can be a bit rough around the edges and the overall mental health system still kinda sucks, but really any therapist you can develop a good rapport with should be able to help you navigate it all from the place you currently are.

Either way, (and I apologize if this is a bit disorganized, I'm in the car and my fiance is sometimes talking to me as I type so it breaks my train of thought) my personal opinion and thought on the matter is that unless its causing you distress, I don't think you really need to stress about what exactly the "not normal" experience is cause "not normal"...

1) Doesn't exist cause "normal" doesn't really exist and the concept of normality, in my opinion, does little other than promote conformity and shame. (Plus in America its used to push white colonizer perspective and ideas on more subjective things like gender, experiences of self etc; experiencing yourself as more than one is actually not entirely abnormal in some cultures and I'd argue that as a Buddhist, experiencing yourself as more than one is an uncommon but absolutely normal experience)

2) Your experiences aren't defined by the labels and research of other people. Your experiences are defined inherently by how you experience them and labels are there to serve to describe you experiences, not the other way around. Same thing goes for research. Research exists to explain odd phenomenon, not to tell people that their experiences are wrong. Research should adapt to include things that don't fit in, not demands that said outliers change to fit the model / theory.

3) As long as there is held respect that your experiences of being more than one might not be the same as someone whose experiences of being more than one comes from complex trauma and/or a complex dissociative disorder, then I see little harm in just, ya know, existing as you naturally do.

I am hesitant to say "endogenic / plurality community might help you find similar people and navigate finding a label if that is important to you" cause I don't actually interact too much with the community myself and I have heard about some toxicity from there (don't touch sophie or cambrian), but I think it could be helpful with some caution.

Anyways, I am having trouble organizing my thoughts cause Im in the car and all so I'll leave it here. Feel free to ask away if you want to add anything or need clarification on my thoughts on this or whatever.

[estinininininen]

FFIV: Delicate Flower, "Rose of the Moon", part 2/2, (ao3), ~2800 words. (Part 1 tumblr)

Kain Highwind is a little older now, and realizes paladins, white mages, and love can all be far stranger - and messier - than he thought.

WARNING: Graphic injury. Graphic. Don't ignore the warning.

Kain never got to speak again to Rosa that day, but this was not the end of the world. Life continued. Kain realized that he shouldn't listen to the part of him that called that day the worst of his life so far. He learned a lot from that day.

Kain spent more time listening to others when they told him things he didn't want to hear. He did not need Sir Halbright to force him up at the crack of dawn to train, and even tailed after Sir Halbright in meetings when he could. He studied under him for practical reasons, as one day the command of the dragoons would pass down to Kain.

Kain also worried that there was something inside people like Halbright, Giles, Rosa, and by all accounts his father, that he and Cecil lacked, Kain moreso. He wanted to absorb it by watching. He did not know the word for it. It floated somewhere between focus, integrity, and calm.

Cecil and Rosa were dating and that, he told himself, was good. It was fine. They were cute together. Cecil had more important things on his mind and needed support from both Rosa and Kain. The King did not fulfill Kain's deepest anxiety and disown Kain and dissolve the dragoons forever more for his bad showing. In fact he spoiled Kain a bit after his injury. Kain was relieved, and felt for the first time that Odin might understand Kain more than he had known.

Giles had been right about the King: what he asked of Cecil had been a passing fancy. The airships, the strange swords: these had been the aborted beginnings of Odin's attempt to reduce Baron's military. It was a noble if idealistic dream: What if there was one day a strong warrior-king, who risked himself before others, able to travel the world at a moment's notice? Perhaps the ever-grinding war machine that formed the backbone of Baron's culture and economy would not have to exist.

This had backfired on the King. Odin could not maneuver the merchants and warriors of Baron into following a song of peace instead of war. The very dragoons Kain was the ascendant lord of would not accept a lessened role in Baron. Nor would Kain in his heart, even if he heard logic from Odin at dinner table discussions. Other countries worried at the air force and these new "Red Wings." They were more comfortable with Baron's army as the traditional, landlocked force, protecting the crystals only if called. They had since time immemorial, why change?

Kain drifted away from the King as foster-father, as he and Odin had reached an understanding they were more liege-lord and knight-vassal than family. Odin was not ever going to be Kain's father. There was calm discussion and little drama about it. Odin was proud of him, Kain knew. Kain more worried about Odin telling Cecil that.

As the years passed, Odin and Cecil's relationship grew closer and yet more fraught. Cecil pushed himself beyond what even Odin and all teachers asked from him. Odin would then let Cecil recover for months, trying to spend time with Cecil more as a father than liege-lord. Contrary to expectations for a boy raised as a prince in all but name, Cecil did not enjoy this coddling. He was becoming a man suited for action, and without the very same skill that was driving a wedge between him and Odin, he felt less useful. Kain suspected no one besides Odin's closest advisors and friends even knew, or felt they had the right to ask: Did the King regret asking Cecil to . . . ?

The matter of the royal inheritance had crept up over the years as Odin failed to marry. Odin, Cecil, and Kain had ignored it for more than a decade out of love. As Kain came of age he found it was decided in everyone else's thoughts before the three had even realized. Outsiders murmured to Kain their surprise he was not more jealous of Cecil. Kain was, but he also knew he would be a terrible king, and he would not wish Cecil's current burden on anyone. And there was also the biggest lesson he had learned at that tournament.

Life was not like a chivalric romance. Good people did bad things.

Kain could not say when he realized the King had asked Kain and Cecil to be dark knights without explaining the cost. It just flowed out from that sunny first day of June. He grew a more natural awareness of how adults hid secrets from each other, instead of the mustache-twirling villains of his past imagination. Real life did not have childish expressions of pure evil.

And yet . . .

Kain still cherished a sliver of that old magic in the stories and culture Odin now wanted to weaken in Baron. There were important truths in glory and romance, Kain still felt, and the most important was what was worth fighting for. A beautiful woman. Childhood friendship you remembered, even if you all drifted apart. A king worth serving. People worth saving, if you were not worth saving yourself.

Such lessons Kain thought he had learned, and that the King and Cecil had also learned similar things. Enough they should have avoided what happened later.

Then the King went mad. Or perhaps he had already died and they didn't know.

Kain almost saved Cecil from dishonor and demotion. He almost piped up to say the Mist dragon seemed not to be a true enemy. He almost reached close enough to Cecil and Rydia when the eidolon Titan erupted from the earth. He almost escaped his own madness. He almost broke free of it, in Fabul. He almost got Rosa out of Zot, then was almost cleared of Golbez's influence for a time. He almost resisted in the Sealed Cave, and he almost didn't hurt Cecil.

By the time Kain slipped free again, he was tired of 'almosts.' He wanted certainty, the certainty he couldn't find in himself. If he turned to his old understanding of the world, he would be the villain, the blackguard children hissed at in puppet shows. Cecil had changed, changed into more legend than man, a half-Lunarian paladin. Redeemed. Filled with the nameless strength of character Kain realized he had lacked. Compared to Kain he was as distant as the moon from the earth. There was only one constant left:

Rosa.

Until, that is, he learned she was never what he thought in the first place.

----------

They had been lucky in the Lunar Subterrane until Edge found the dark shadow of Bahamut. Luck tended to run out when everyone was blasted point-blank without warning by a wall of dragonfire. Kain only escaped because he was ready to Jump anyway.

He looked down from the air to see four prone forms. All four were knocked out with pain or because their airways were burnt. Clock was ticking. "Shit shit shit shit shit," he said.

Never take a chance to strike for granted, though. At the apex of his jump, he flipped into the classic headfirst dragoon attack now as easy for him as walking. As he twisted, he reached into the emergency-of-emergencies bundle tucked into his breastplate. He grabbed it, a folded, thin white handkerchief. Grey with age and stained, and with young Rosa's attempts at embroidery. One of dozens the group shared now without thinking.

He shoved it his mouth, knifing down through the air, and braced for impact with both hands on the holy spear. This was what he did. This was what he was for, the only thing men like him were good for- no time to think. Distraction killed. With no other target, Kain aimed for the eye. It was wide enough to stand on.

Hit. Clean, deep, and retractable for an easy retreat. He tried not the think about the sound the lens made as it crunched. Kain had no time for thinking. He withdrew the spear in a shower of blood and clear jelly. A bit splattered on Rosa as Kain landed next to her. Don't think about mess. Don't think about what she must think about disgusting things.

The shadow twin of Bahamut reared in agony and lost track of Kain, but that would be only for a moment. Kain spat out the handkerchief, pulled back one corner, and pulled out one of the treasures held within: a fluff of phoenix down, tiny as a grape and thin as onion skin. With a shaking hand, he pressed it to Rosa's forehead between her eyes. He told himself, Do not, do not think about the puling whistle of Rydia's breath next to him, or how Cecil was not moving at all.

Rosa's blackened cheek twitched as the magic, which Kain was deaf, blind, and numb to, flowed into her. Then she gasped in and Kain was moving backwards the moment he saw healed flesh rippling out from her head and chest. The most he could do now for help was to distract the dragon. This creature, the inversion of Bahamut's cleansing fire, as Kain was to Cecil's sacred sword-

Don't think. Don't think.

He Jumped, and dived, and stabbed. He ducked and wove. He kept fighting. Behind him he heard armor clanking as Cecil stood back up and helped Rosa heal. Within moments they would all be standing.

Kain flipped back to regroup. He tore his eyes away from the dragon to check Rosa and Cecil were healing successfu-

Something huge, and sharp, and awful as judgment crashed into his stomach. It popped right through to his skin and tore down to his hip like peeling overripe fruit. He was pulled out of the air and and smashed into hard stone only feet away from landing next to Edge and Cecil. The dragon's tail whipped out and back and Kain saw a bloody smear on the spines.

Cecil was looking down at him and saying something. Kain couldn't understand him. His head, back, and everything below his chest didn't hurt, exactly, but felt like they were either blowing up like a balloon or shriveling up, or both at the same time. He felt ready to pass out.

"I think I'm going to pass out," Kain said.

He passed out.

He came to what felt like seconds later. But with no dragon, screaming, or screaming dragon, it had to be some time later. Kain was on top of a blanket. He couldn't open his eyes. He felt more tired than he ever had before. The questions What's going on? and Where am I? seemed less important right now than Can I go back to sleep?

His belly twisted, and it hurt. No - something twisted his belly. Something was in his stomach.

"He's twitching," Cecil said, somewhere over Kain's right side.

"He won't wake up," Rosa said, over Kain's left.

"Should I get Rydia just in case?" Cecil asked.

"Let her sleep. Shame you don't have that sleep sword anymore," she said. "If it comes to it, I could just cut him with that instead of the scalpel a few times and he'd fall asleep again. Eventually."

"Uh," Cecil said.

"That was a joke," Rosa said.

Cecil was quiet, then said, "I don't think I'm cut out to be a white mage." Kain could hear how nauseous Cecil felt. It made Kain want to ask what they were both staring down at, and what were those wet sounds coming from where his navel was. Where his navel should be, rather. He was just too tired to talk. It also hurt, of course, but he imagined that was just a fact of life when disemboweled.

Reality and all its troubles seemed very far away to Kain. It was a nice change of pace.

"Nonsense," Rosa said. "You're a great white mage. You've already got all the basics down. I'm really impressed with how fast you've learned," she said. Kain heard the snap of tiny scissors and a squelch as Rosa reached into him to grab gods only knew what.

"Oh," Cecil said. "Thank you." He swallowed. "It's just. I'm still not used to it, I guess."

Rosa hummed. Kain had the absurd idea she was stitching up his guts with the same silly face she might stitch up a handkerchief. She would stick out her tongue a little and close one eye, which Kain had always thought rather cute. It was less so now. She sounded very casual.

Surely this wasn't a . . . a normal activity to her?

Cecil continued thinking out loud. "I didn't think stitching and mending, all the practical healing skills, would still be so important." Kain cracked his eyes open. He could lie there unmoving while in pain, but if he was going to need to say something, it was Cecil, for fuck's sake, stop distracting her.

All he could see was stone and a blurry glow from a campfire. Cecil and Rosa were silhouetted.

"Well, I didn't intend to run out of mana," Rosa said.

"Of course not. Neither did I," Cecil said. "I feel like I'm just learning things . . . backwards, you know?"

"Hm?"

"You started with changing bandages and learning anatomy, long before you ever healed a patient, right? But I started with Porom and Tellah yelling at me in between fighting off the undead when we were coming down - that mountain," Cecil said. Cecil never spoke about Mt. Ordeals unless he had to. "I feel like I skipped some important things."

"Like what?" Rosa said.

"Oh, uh. Everything," Cecil said. "Right now I'd need to know how to sew, how to cut, where to cut, when to clean the scalpel-"

"It's always better to clean between every cut, with gut wounds, but I'm cheating," Rosa said. Kain loved Rosa but he was about to lash out and say, The fuck you are, woman, go back and clean up or save everyone the trouble and put me down, but then Rosa said, "I'm healing a bit and using esuna as I go along. I have some mana left, just not for big heals. Don't try this until you've practiced a few times."

"Oh. Okay," Cecil said.

"You've got to relax, Cecil. This isn't the first time you've seen blood, or guts. I know it isn't."

"No, no," Cecil said. "I just . . . can't believe this is something you just. Do. Reach in and . . . "

"You might have to do more than just this," Rosa said. "Not today, because I'm healing as I go, and I have a reed for a straw, but if the intestines are full, or impacted? They bruise easily. All organs do. Cleaning them out before making an incision or stitching is important if you rely on healing later, after closing up, to clean out infection. And bruising can weaken them enough they tear later, and then you've got to heal for that, too. So you have to clean it out, and can't squeeze. You have to suck."

Kain felt his soul take leave of his body and land back in his chest with a thunk.

"Oh," said Cecil. Kain wondered if he'd prefer to be a dark knight again. "Oh. I would prefer not to have to that."

"It's not pleasent but it's part of the job. Overall, though? I'm just putting the pieces back together is all," Rosa said. "I can teach you anatomy. It's nice having something to talk about besides the end of the world. And I've been spending more time with you than ever before. It's nice."

Kain's full attention floated up towards the surface enough for him to say, "Oh, so that's your idea of a hot date?"

Cecil screamed. It was a loud and high scream of the sort Kain hadn't heard from Cecil since they were children.

Rosa didn't even flinch.

"Kain! Oh good gods, man," Cecil said. "He's awake! You said he wasn't going to wake up!"

"He's fine," Rosa said. "Kain, don't . . . don't move around."

Kain said, "No problem, Rosa. I'm fine, Cecil. Ces. Hah. You screamed like a . . . " He stopped, and thought about who was holding a piece of his insides. "-a child," he said. "I got you good."

Rydia, hair wild with sleep but eyes wide enough the whites glowed in the firelight, appeared over Rosa's shoulder. Edge materialized from bare stone. "Why's he laughing? What's wrong?" Edge said.

"He's just in shock," Rosa said. "He'll be fine. He's fine. Everything's fine. Rydia, put him back to sleep, would you?"

"'M fine," Kain said. "Rosa, you ate shit? Have you literally eaten shit?"

"Go back to sleep, Kain," Rosa said, with the patience of a glacier eroding a mountain. Rydia started chanting the spell.

"Nooooo," Kain said. "I don't want to go to sleep. Were you making fun of Cecil? Were you just kidding?"

"No, I wasn't kidding. You weren't supposed to hear that, though. Don't worry about it." She winked at him. "White mages have to keep a few secrets."

"Ugh," Kain said. He looked at Cecil. "If this is her idea of a good time, you can have her."

Cecil's jaw dropped at both Rosa and Kain as Rydia cast sleep. As he slipped under, he heard Rosa start giggling. He wondered what was so funny.

"What's so funny?" he said.

"Goodnight, Kain," Rosa said, still giggling.

He smiled. "Goodnight," he said, and fell asleep.

[just-a-strange-boy]

better strangers - part 4

part 1 * part 2 * part 3

Eversince ending your arrangement with Stephen, you've been going through a rough patch. Attempting to avoid him as much as you possibly could, you struggle to let go. An unexpected turn of events convinces you to reconsider. Not sure whether it might change everything or nothing at all, you agree to one last encounter with Stephen...

Pairing: Stephen Strange x ftm!reader

Warnings: 18+ (Minors DNI), mentions of cheating and the endorsement of cheating, ANGST (and a bunch of conflicting feelings), oral sex (ftm receiving), unprotected penetrative sex

A/N: so here we are, the big finale (word count is around 11k) ...and I've had a lot of fun continuing the idea and giving them this ending in particular, especially considering the beginnings of their story were only two prompts I wrote for kinktober. please remember that communication is key, cheating is not the way to go, and feelings are allowed to be complicated.

The weeks following your fallout with Stephen turned out to be disastrous.

You were constantly on edge about everything. There were so many things suddenly starting to irk you and apparently everyone decided to get on your nerves constantly.

While you managed to hold back unsolicited comments at work and people luckily weren't able to see your grumpy face or how you held your head in hands as you talked to them over the phone, it didn't change the fact you were moody and a mess – running on an unhealthy amount of caffeine, cigarettes and plenty of bathroom breaks you spent with bawling your eyes out.

Work was bad, but it didn't quite stop there. Being on your own at home or even hanging around your friends was no better.

You found yourself reminded of Stephen at every little instance, incapable of ignoring his existence and pushing memories aside altogether. Instead you kept checking your phone every so often, wishing for him to just text you. You even caught yourself going home in anticipation, downright hoping he would be around on some days, because at least that would mean you could see him – well, before remembering how things had ended and that you shouldn't be excited at all.

So often, you remembered the things Stephen liked, little phrases he tended to use, his quirks. Most of all how he had been around you and how nice your moments together had been, not just because of the sex. All that stuck around in your head – and there was no use in denying the fact how much you truly missed him.

He didn't deserve to be cried over and yet it was exactly what you did. You couldn't bear the thought of him being all happy and pretending everything was fine, while it wasn't so easy for you – so you tried your hardest to avoid him at any given moment. It worked reasonably well: you always checked in with your sister on whether he was or would be around, and if she confirmed, you thought it best to not come home at all.

Because you didn't know what was worse: just seeing Stephen or seeing him all loving and happy with your sister.

As it happened to be, he seemed to avoid any opportunity of crossing your way as well, whether it was out of respect for you or because of his own pride.

He didn't come around the apartment often anymore. Your sister was downright annoyed how he seemed to never have time for coming for dinner, although he had always loved sharing meals with them.

You just ignored her rambling with a shrug.

You didn't want to think about Stephen Strange ever again, not another single second of your life. But everything revolved around the fact how desperately you missed him. You missed him hard. His presence, his cocky arrogant smiles, his playful teasing. You missed how right it felt to be with him, his loving kisses all over your skin, how keen he had always been to touch every inch of you, how it felt to have him inside of you. His smell, his voice, his... well, everything really.

You desperately tried to convince yourself how much you should not care, because neither did he. But it didn't work. Not in years would it have worked. The situation tormented you, because you cared immensely. Nothing was fine and everything sucked, but at least you didn't have to see him anymore. That was something, right?

Maybe, with time, your thoughts about him and feelings for him would pass, dissolve in the air, and you'd never worry a single moment in your life about that man ever again. Maybe.

Hitting the two month mark after ending the arrangement, your sister broke the sudden news to you. Two months ago you would have been happy to hear as it had been all you had wanted. But now your face fell and you didn't know what to feel when she told you that Stephen had abruptly ended the relationship.

She was understandably devastated, in the same way that you had been about letting him go, and although harvesting little compassion for her, you were still playing the good brother, at least giving her a hug and the consoling words 'He's not worth it then'.

How much of a bastard liar you were. Not just because you had endorsed Stephen cheating on her, with you no less. Not just because you pretended to care when you really had no empathy for her. But especially because what you were saying was a dirty lie.

You hated to admit it, even after all the resentment and anger and disappointment you had gone through, that he was worth it. That's why you had slept with him. That's why you had started to become so obsessed with him, wanted him, maybe even kind of fallen in love with him...

He wasn't easy, sure. He was a cheater and an asshole. You felt more than betrayed by him, his behavior and words having caused you to feel worthless. He had hurt you and you wanted to be way above putting yourself in a position of being hurt again.

But at the end of the day, you still clung onto his memory and longed to have him back, in the way you had him before and even more so in the ways you had never had him.

Silly you. As if that would ever happen.

.

It was a quiet Saturday evening.

You were in your room, sitting at your desk, typing away on your laptop like you so often did, when your phone display lightened up and grabbed your attention. Of course you decided to check it, thinking it might be one of your friends sending you either something important or maybe just a meme supposed to cheer you up.

But you couldn't have possibly been prepared for the disbelief that washed over you when you read the name. You blankly stared at it for a moment, thinking it was your silly mind playing a trick, but after double-checking - it was indeed him.

You had been foolish enough to never delete his number in the first place, not bothering to block it when you should have, and that's exactly how you ended up with his message on your phone, too weak to resist checking it altogether.

And thus, Stephen Strange returned to your life with a very subtle and surprising 'I'm in front of the complex waiting in my car. Will you please come down and see me?'

Your heart sunk. He could have written anything. An apology, a question, a plain approach like 'Hey' – but the message he had chosen to send was so direct you couldn't have possibly ignored it. He was here. He had come to see you.

A whole mess of feelings began surging through you. Confusion, resentment, disbelief, annoyance, though in some way hope was fluttering within you too, a giddy feeling, unmistakable excitement.

You should have ignored him. You should have let him sit and rot in his car, without ever giving him an answer, without ever talking to him ever again, make him swallow the bitter pill that you weren't so easy. That you wouldn't dance after his whistle and come back crawling to him in desperation. That he might never get you back.

You should have let him suffer the consequences of his behavior and continue to live with your own mistakes, in solitary.

But you didn't want to. After all, wasn't this what you had asked for, in a way? You had wanted him to choose you. You had wanted him and he was here now, requesting to talk to you, perhaps willing to make amends.

If you only heard him out, gave him a chance, perhaps it would ensure you the ending you had always desired. Maybe you could talk it out, find a middle ground. Even if you didn't and it was just another opportunity to see Stephen one more time, it might actually be worth it.

The wish of wanting to see him again was stronger than any resentment could have ever been, no matter how stupid it was. Seeing him was what you had to do. What you needed to do.

But you didn't want to seem too eager, deciding to test your luck and let him wait. See if he was willing to stay down in his car for longer than five minutes, without a definite answer whether you would come down or not. At least then you would know if he was truly serious about this.

Saving your document, you eventually shut your laptop. Your heart was beating faster by the second and your nerves were getting the worst of you. Was this actually worth the risk? Was he actually worth it or were you too blinded by your persisting feelings for the man?

You got dressed in another pair of pants and your favorite hoodie. The state of your hair was a mess, but you figured it didn't matter much. It wasn't like you were going on a date or had to look your best to get a point across.

Grabbing your keys, wallet and phone, you crossed the hall, aware you'd be passing your sister watching TV in the living room.

"I'll be out tonight", you spoke to her, "Don't know when I'll be back."

"Have fun", she turned her head and responded. A smile flitted across her face. She probably greeted the thought of you having a good time out, considering she had seen you miserable and mopey the last few weeks – in the same way that she had been, ever since her break-up.

If she only knew.

Slipping into your sneakers, you finally left the apartment, lingering on the stairs for another moment. It wasn't too late to turn back and put an end to this chapter in way that would ensure avoiding another heartbreak. Going down there would put you in a position of possibly being hurt again and were you really able to endure this another time?

You could have thought through every possible outcome of this situation for hours and it still wouldn't have changed the fact you had made your decision – in your head and most definitely in your heart. Taking another deep breath to brace yourself, you left the complex.

Out on the curb, you realized you didn't know what car to look for and checked the street. It didn't help it was fully packed with parked cars and it was dark outside already, save for the few street lamps scarcely illuminating the sidewalk. You pondered, searching the half-dark, guessing which car would fit a man like Stephen Strange.

But as it appeared to be, he must have noticed you leave the house long before. An engine was revved. Headlights further illuminated the sidewalk. A sign for you. You sighed when you noticed the car model. Of course, he drove a flashy car. As if Stephen Strange would have ever settled for something ordinary, something normal. No, he just had to drive a Lamborghini.

You walked up to it, checking the window to make sure it really was Stephen, but there was no way you could have mistaken him for someone else, his face illuminated by the interior lights.

He opened the door to you from the inside almost immediately. "Climb in", the voice you had missed so much eventually invited you in.

It felt odd to even get inside such a pricey car. Probably cost a hundred times your salary, if that was enough – and after all you had gone through, meeting each other again in the bounds of a car like this was not what you had imagined for yourself. But once you had pulled the door close behind you, actually being in the car made no difference to you though.

You were still facing Stephen and this situation alone would have been hard anywhere. Because he was here. Because he wanted to see you and you didn't know what it would mean.

"Thank you for coming", Stephen initiated conversation, cutting the engine again, so it was just the two of you sitting in the half-dark, his form barely illuminated by the streetlights falling into the car, "I was afraid you'd let me sit here and sour. I wasn't sure if I would have waited until the morning. Though I couldn't have blamed you. I would have deserved it. Being ignored by you, I mean."

"Yeah, maybe you would have", you sighed, not daring to even look him in the eye. You couldn't. Not yet. You had a feeling that he wasn't looking at you either. It was just the two of you and on your part you were feeling very small in these enormous leather seats, and a whole lot of tension between you. "But I'm here, am I not?"

"You are", he noted and it was when he spoke your name that convinced you to look at him, able to slightly make out his features and the lines of worry on his face, "Will you believe me when I say that I'm sorry?"

"That depends", you responded, one single thought popping into your head and bouncing back and forth: Forgive him and everything will be alright. But that would have been too easy. Things were never easy. You had to hear him out and decide then.

"If you tell me what exactly you're sorry for, I'll give it a try."

"For treating you the way I did. I handled it all wrong, and regret the way things happened... That I decided to keep a relationship I didn't really want, that I was so self-absorbed and never really...", he paused, bracing himself for the next words with a deep breath, admitting to his own faults, "I never really thought much about how you'd feel. As long as we were having sex, I didn't worry or think about anything else much, not until it was too late anyways. I am sorry for being so blind. I should have seen it meant more to you and knowing that, I should have never treated you the way I did."

"Did it ever mean anything to you? Like... was it ever more than just sex to you? At any point?"

It was perhaps the question that had tormented you the most, whether it had been as meaningless as you'd thought, just a bit of fooling around, or... more. It might not make any difference now or mend what had been broken. But you needed to know.

"In the beginning it was really just sex, that's why we made that arrangement, didn't we? We kept rolling with it, because... it just worked between us", Stephen began. You didn't really know what to expect to hear next, nor were you really decided about what you wanted to hear.

But as long as he'd be honest with you, you supposed you were willing to accept whatever he said.

"There was something special about you. I knew the first time I met you. And the second time, when I recognized you, realizing that you were my stranger... It changed everything", he went on. You couldn't help but think this was the first time he was being genuinely honest with you, allowing you to see deeper into the complex and usually closed-off man he was.

Though you wished he would have done that, well, two months ago, it was still better than never.

After hearing it all, perhaps then you could make up your mind whether it was too late or if there was perhaps still hope.

"I tried not to think about it so much. But then I got to know you better and I learned that you were kind, smart, adorably shy, a great cook... You had me hooked on your smile and tempted me with...just being you. It got harder and harder to stay away from you, to ignore the way my whole being was craving to be with you again. I could have gotten laid anywhere, but I didn't want to. I just lusted for you. There wasn't anyone else. Sure, your sister and that only for convenience. But it was you that I... you must think I'm so ridiculous, because I distanced myself from you – but it was you that I really desired."

"You could have. Had me. But when I told you about that, you dismissed me. Made me believe having the feelings was silly. You said that I wouldn't understand and you were right... I don't really get you. You seemed so indifferent and you pushed me away and yet you're here. I... I still don't get it."

"It's complicated... I avoid relationships for a good reason. I fuck up, because I'm clueless when it comes to them. Caring for another person... I think it overwhelms me", he admitted.

Could have fooled you. On a surface level he usually never displayed any kind of insecurity or doubt, with his level of confidence in himself, his carelessness and slightly more arrogant attitude. Stephen had never appeared like a man keen on big emotions. Honestly admitting to his own faults or sharing his worries, like he did with you right now, must have been a rarity.

"I dismissed you, because... because I didn't know what to do. I was scared of the thought to have you falling for me and not being able to live up to that. I realized a lot of things then, most of all that whatever we had was going to change...", Stephen went on.

"I felt like I was using you all of the sudden, which was never my intention. I always wanted it to be two-sided and consensual, but I didn't expect you to develop feelings. I dreaded the thought of hurting you. Which of course doesn't mean anything now, because I did hurt you and I can't take that back."

“You did hurt me”, you could only admit, “But I reckon that developing feelings for you was my own issue and certainly not your fault. I figured you had none for me and that's why you pushed me away. It sucked having to accept this was going to be how things would end. Now you're here though and I don't... I don't know how to process this.”

“I'm here because I am sorry. I wanted you to know I regret how things ended.”

"Is that also the reason why you broke up with her?”, the question blurted out of you.

"It's what I should have done in the first place. Before chasing after you. But I didn't care, as long as I got what I wanted. I really didn't care up to the point you addressed it, because it was never appeared as an issue to me until then...", Stephen mused, admitting to his own blindness. He hadn't known better and while that wasn't any kind of excuse, you weren't going to push him away. Not when he was already here for you.

“When you asked me why I kept staying with her... I don't know. I did like her, desire her, all that, it was good to show off a pretty girl on my arm, especially around the hospital. But I could have never loved her. It wasn't really fair to her either, huh? Pretending I was a great boyfriend while fucking around with you. After you told me to leave you alone... it wounded my ego quite a bit. But I think I needed that to make me reconsider things. I realized I'd much rather miss her than you. And now that I have broken up with her, I don't miss her much. All this time though, I've missed you."

A very pregnant pause followed.

You didn't know what to say, because that was a confession you hadn't quite expected. You understood what he was implying, but how much could you let his words truly mean to you? Could you let him wrap you around his finger like he hadn't hurt you, downright broken your heart? Because it would have been so easy for him to get you back like that, now that it suited him, now that he suddenly seemed to want you in this way.

But if you just gave him this, the benefit of doubt, the chance to prove himself to you... perhaps he would really live up to all he said. You wanted him to mean it. You wanted him so desperately. Your heart clenched as you looked at him, street lights barely revealing all of the features you had traced and kissed and adored all the same.

He spoke your name, pulling you out of your thoughts again. "I'm really sorry. It's stupid that I'm only realizing this now when I should have known better from the get go. You must think I'm such a asshole. And you wouldn't be wrong. I am. But I'm still hoping... even if it's stupid to hope you'll..."

"Forgive you?", you interrupted his rambling.

"Yeah. Yes, that."

"I don't know, Stephen. I don't know if I should."

"And I'd understand. Lord, I understand."

"I missed you too", you admitted to him then, a brash and quick confession, "And I've hated it. I hated you. I hated myself for not being able to stop wanting you. God help me. I've wanted you the first time you stepped into that hotel room. I've wanted you every other time you came to our apartment. And even now, I still want you. But I don't know if that's good enough. Or good at all. But... perhaps it would be worth figuring it out.”

“I know it's so much to ask for, to let me be in your life again just like that. You don't have to make your decision now. But even if you can never bring yourself to forgive me or allow yourself to want me... I wanted to make one last request”, he was very forward, like Stephen always used to be, “Will you come home with me today? Spend the night together?”

Your heart leaped wildly within the confines your chest – though you found yourself immediately considering what he was asking for. You didn't know whether he was requesting sex, just having you one last time, no matter how things would turn out. What you did know was that the idea wasn't offending nor repelling you.

"What will that entail?", you inquired anyways.

"Whatever you feel like.” A vague answer.

You decided to take the chance. "Food? I'm kind of hungry."

"Sure”, he agreed, “I could grab a bite. Haven't really been able to stomach anything before getting here."

"Am I gonna get an apartment tour?", was your second request, probably not what he had expected.

Yet he agreed with a shrug. "Sure, if you'd like. It's not that interesting though.”

“Well, you'd at least need to show me the bedroom”, you responded, deciding now was not the time to play coy. If that was your last chance at ever being intimate with Stephen, you were not going to pass on the chance, “That is, if you would you want to have sex?"

You weren't surprised he wasn't denying either. “Oh please, is that really a question you need to ask?” His answer put a smile to your lips.

“Good, because I haven't gotten any in weeks and I'm not sure I'll do well resisting you anyways”, you said then, unashamed to admit to your own truth. Maybe having sex would strangely resolve things you were too afraid to sort out right now.

“Likewise”, he hummed, reaching over to your side to search for your hand in the dark of the car, grasping it firmly in his. “There has never really been a moment I haven't wanted you. I'll have you if you'll have me. Even if it's just this once.”

"Stephen...", you murmured and since you were already looking at each other, it was an easy and quick decision. You leaned over the middle console, closing the distance between the two of you, and let your lips brush over his, the softest touch. It allowed you to embrace the idea this was actually happening. The two of you reunited. Kissing in Stephen's car, between you a quiet promise of so much more than you had initially bargained for.

It was so sweet. He didn't urge you on, responding with a gentle press of lips against yours, closing his hand around yours a little tighter. It was so innocent it made your heart flutter. During all the time you were allowed to have with him for the rest of today, perhaps it was fair to push aside all that had happened and just be in the moment, no matter what the future would entail.

"I wanna go home with you", you muttered against his lips then, before kissing him another time, never wanting a gap to persist between the two of you ever again. You felt him squeeze your hand in return, an assurance that he was feeling quite the same way: not ready to let you go anytime soon.

"Then let's get something to eat. My fridge is disastrously empty", he admitted to you after breaking apart. Where worry had been on his brow just minutes ago, you could now see the implications of a smile in the half-dark.

"No fancy restaurants though. I look a mess", you sighed, causing him to laugh.

"Don't worry. I'm more in the mood for a burger, some fries. Maybe a milkshake."

"Sounds perfect.” You paid him an honest smile, watching him turn towards the steering wheel and get ready to get started. “You're gonna drive this beast respecting all speed limits, yes?"

You eyed Stephen curiously as he revved up the engine again, the droning sound filling the relatively quiet street. You shortly wondered whether your sister would recognize the probably familiar and distinct sound of this car, but shook your head and quickly reminded yourself to stay in the moment. Now was not the time to think about your sister.

The Lambo's display lit up, grabbing your attention. "Okay, very fancy."

"Gonna drive by the rules, I promise", he agreed, backing out of the parking space and pulling the car onto the street. It looked so practiced. You couldn't have driven a car if your life depended on it, let alone this beast, but Stephen had perfected the skill of handling it.

He turned out to be a rapid driver (most definitely one that had gotten ticketed for speeding before), but overall seemed to stick to his word and tried to hold the speed limit, casually checking on you with a glance to his right. Checking if you were okay. Or, you imagined, checking if you were actually there.

You noticed he was steering the car into the drive-through of a fast food chain.

Even just sitting there, watching him drive, made you suddenly very aware of the fact that he was going to take you to his apartment, a place you had never been. You didn't even have a single clue where he lived, but sure were going to find out.

It was a little odd, wasn't it? That you had grabbed the opportunity by the neck so rapidly. Was it making you seem desperate to him? Or was he thinking about how weirdly unusual this situation was as well?

"Real fancy for a date", you hummed, but couldn't ignore how damn content you felt anyways.

"You can get a fancy dinner some other time, if you'd want", Stephen spoke, the clear implication of another actual date on his mind, though not allowing the pressure of needing you to agree to persist, "What do you wanna get?"

"Oh, a Classic Cheeseburger, large fries, and probably a strawberry milkshake, if they have that."

"Will do."

You patiently waited in the passenger's seat, watching him with patience as he ordered your food, picked it up from the drive-through window, and tipped the server rather graciously.

He carefully handed you the baggy and drinks. "If you spill, you owe me."

You chuckled at the notion, only guessing what he had in mind for owing him – probably something sexual, of course – and let him continue to drive in peace, noticing how he was heading towards a more pricey part of New York. Of course, he owned an apartment here. With a salary that was probably five digits, driving an expensive and flashy car, what else should you have expected?

There was a neat little car park below the building complex, where Stephen ended up parking. It was probably smart to have a designated spot like that, far-off from the public eye.

You were greeting the idea too, especially because people passing by, seeing someone like the renowned Doctor Stephen Strange going home with someone like you, would be no bother like this. Luckily, no neighbors in sight, you could head up the stairwell entirely unnoticed, just you and him and your food.

He lead the way and invited you into his apartment, and to be fair, you wouldn't have expected anything else from Stephen in means of decor either – sleek, expensive looking, straight out of a catalog honestly. He had so much space, which he probably didn't even need, and everything was just so... huge, especially the large windowpanes, allowing you to catch an impressive glimpse over New York.

It was a great view – still, you found your eyes rather tracking back to Stephen instead.

"Do you want dinner or the apartment tour first?", he asked, lingering, watching you, waiting.

"Food first. Always", you insisted. And even though it was only fast food, eaten out of the bag, slapped together burgers, greasy and soggy fries, two very sugary milkshakes, it suited you just fine.

You made a little bit of light conversation – during all the time your arrangement had been going, there had always been more sex than words involved. You had rarely simply sat together and talked. Maybe that's why this situation felt so substantially different to you.

You learned that Stephen mostly lived from take-out, wasn't very keen on cooking for himself, which didn't mean he couldn't – he just chose not to. As he was at the hospital most of the time anyways, he had gotten so used to purchasing meals elsewhere, mostly the hospital cafeteria and nearby restaurants. And well, for a fair amount of time, you'd been feeding him through by proxy.

He did give you a full tour of the apartment afterwards, as promised, all the way from the living room (where you had eaten), to the kitchen space (which you adored since it looked so perfect for cooking big meals), the bathroom (which literally had a shower you could sit in), a small study (a room that truly felt like Stephen's, displaying he was an avid collector of music records) and at last, the bedroom adjacent to it.

He once again admitted to loving your food, especially baked goodies – because he did have a sweet tooth, which was weirdly adorable to acknowledge. The confession alone made you want to cook and bake for him, as often and as much as he liked.

Some other day maybe.

Was it coincidental that he had chosen to show you this room last? You had requested him to show it to you after all, hadn't you? Was it time for that already? Maybe. Maybe not.

You could have asked him to simply take you back to the living room to talk some more and he probably would have been amenable, not wanting to ruin his chances with you. But once you found yourself standing in the middle of Stephen Strange's bedroom, looking at him and remembering how much you had been missing him the last months, how much it had hurt to let him go, how awful it had been to hear him dismiss you... how could you have not taken this opportunity?

Even if today was going to be the last time you ever did this, it would be all worth it.

Daring yourself to be bold – because he certainly wasn't being the bold one now, even though he had always liked taking the risks – you crossed the remaining distance between you two and wrapped your arms around his waist, craving to be embraced, hoping that he would return it with the same affection.

And he did, pulling you closer into him.

You tucked your head under his chin, letting it rest on his chest. In return, you felt him bury his face in your hair as he rested his head atop yours. And then he just held you, wrapped in his arms, one hand securely placed on your nape, the other on your midriff. You were melting into one another, not in the sexual way you were used to, but in this comforting manner. It was innocent. It made you feel whole.

There was no rush. No need to force anything. No point you had to get to.

"Smell so good", you hummed into his chest.

"Oh yeah?", he sounded amused.

"Mhh, I missed it", you admitted, "To be so close. I know I already said it, but I really did miss you a lot, Stephen."

You could hear him chuckle softly before he spoke your name, easing his grip around you as you stirred to look up at him again.

He was so handsome. All of his chiseled features, those high cheekbones, the prominent jawline, the curved lips turned into a smile. You loved the way his face always brightened up when he was at ease, lines of age visible but not overtaking. His eyes glistened as he looked down at you.

It was a little like the first time you had ever met – in mere minutes he had you mesmerized.

His looks had been impressive then, you still remembered the anticipation, not knowing what would happen, not knowing what he would do to you. You were in awe of his looks even now. How could you not be? There was anticipation too, especially as you noticed his tongue dart forward between his lips, the subtle downward glance to yours. Lord, the tension was thick.

This time you knew exactly what was going to happen.

Stephen leaned into you and you simply closed your eyes, welcoming whatever he decided to give.

His breath was ghosting over your face for a short moment, noses awkwardly bumping against each other, which made you smile. He wasn't intentionally winding you up, though it did cause even more tension to settle between you two. Your heart fluttered heavily and you breathed out a sigh when you felt his mouth brush over yours again, the whisper of a kiss, a gentle exploration. Innocent, intimate. Raw, honest.

It made you want to believe he meant it all.

He sank his lips onto yours more firmly then and you were perfectly pliant, greeting his kiss with a smile, parting your lips for him to get a taste. Picking up on your little signal, Stephen's hold on you tightened again as he claimed more of your mouth, swiping his tongue across your bottom lip. In return you opened your mouth further to him, trying to catch his lip between your teeth, grazing them over the tender flesh.

It made Stephen chuckle, your little attempt to playfully bite him and in some fortunate, though unexpected way urged him to deepen the kiss, passionately smashing your mouths together then. As if he were starving, he devoured you bit by bit, sliding his tongue against yours, encircling it, gentle strokes as he explored all of your mouth – and it was good, so fucking good that it had you cling onto his broad form, desiring him to give you more. Because you needed. Badly.

If he slipped away now, you weren't sure you'd survive. Neither would he though. Not by the way he was kissing you like he needed this more than oxygen, more than anything.

You both had to catch a deep breath somewhere in between kisses and so high on the ecstasy of just being able to have Stephen again, like this, you broke out into a chuckle, soon infecting the other man as well, once again revealing he looked so damn handsome when he laughed.

Stephen rose one hand to cup your cheek, caressing it gently, and you were grinning hard at him, being so affectionate. "Let me take care of you", he said, his gaze intense as it burned into you, "I wanna be good to you. I wanna prove to you that I meant everything I said earlier. I want you to know that I'm serious. If you let me."

"Yes", you agreed, nodding at him as his fingers gently trailed down your jawline, ever so slightly tilting your chin, not wanting you to avert your gaze again, "I want that too. I want you too."

You wouldn't, couldn't stop smiling and allowed him to pull you in another kiss, your mouths colliding once again, a whole wave of passion rolling over you.

He didn't pull you much closer, giving you just the perfect room to get your hands on his skin, sliding them under the sweater he was wearing. They landed on his waist first, though you were eager to let them trail further towards his stomach, the hard muscle tensing where you placed them flat against it.

He was so warm.

Willing to touch more of him, your hands skirted up the plane of his abdomen, seeking out his defined chest next. How did Stephen Strange have the audacity to be so damn hot, figuratively and literally?

Your brain short-circuited at the sudden moan that slipped past his lips, right into your kiss. There wasn't a more erotic, heavenly sound you could have imagined at the moment.

You craved to hear some more of it.

"Missed your touch so much", he groaned between open-mouthed kisses, insistent on putting his hands on you as well. You were forced to stay apart for a moment, eagerly trying to wrestle the sweater over his head – because while he looked good in any clothing, you preferred him even more without it.

You had to get a good look of him later, because before you had the chance to, he was keen on prying your hoodie off you, returning to the kiss with the same eagerness, chest to chest, heart to heart.

His hands on you were curious, mapping you out, from your shoulders to your arms, across the plane of your back, along the slight dip of your hips. Eventually he moved them to rest on the swell of your ass, squeezing the soft flesh lightly. "Hold onto me", he muttered, urging you to wrap your arms around his neck, clutching onto him as he pulled you up. You had most definitely underestimated his strength as he heaved you upwards, causing you to hop into his arms, legs coming round his midsection as he held you securely, hands placed under your behind.

It was fucking sexy, the way he didn't struggle to hold you in his arms, hungrily claiming more of your mouth, before beginning to walk through the room all while carrying you. You could have let him hold you and make out with you like this for ages, but were not disappointed in the slightest either as he moved towards the bed and sank you down again, toppling over with you.

Another shared laugh slipped in between kisses, your nose bumping his, the comfortable weight of his body pressing you to the bed. Warm excitement rippled through all of your being as he rolled his hips into yours. You tried to pull him closer, hands pawing at his back, feeling the hard warm muscle under you.

He was so responsive to your touches, small groans passing his lips when you dug your fingers a little harder into his skin, the needy buck of his hip as you wound your hand into his hair and gave it a firm tug.

He was aching for you, just like you were aching for him.

God, how you had missed him – his plush lips plundering yours, his taste, his smell, his warmth, his noises, the feeling of his body on top of yours. How he failed to be subtle in the slightest, the insatiable man that he was, grinding hard into you, somewhere between the states of wanting to give and needing to take.

You broke the kiss. "I don't wanna wait any longer today. I need you. Wanna feel you inside. Please, Stephen."

His ocean blue eyes darkened with lust as they flicked across your face again, a slight smirk crawled onto his lips. Of course, he enjoyed having you begging without even needing to do much for it. But his tone wasn't quite as dark with lust as he responded. It was gentle. "Anything you want", he hummed and bent to kiss the tip of your nose, the small display of affection making your heart clench. It made you want him even more.

"Can we do it slow today?", you requested, brushing through the hair on his nape, your other hand resting on his hip, "Not that I mind much however we have sex, I just think... I need to take it slow today."

"Yeah, sure", Stephen responded, only reluctantly pulling out of your hold to sit back up on his knees. His large hands quickly found their way to your thighs at first, followed by a gentle squeeze, fingers skirting along your pelvis up to the waistband of your pants, "Can I get this off you?"

"Definitely", you said eagerly, "If you strip as well."

"Your wish is my command." He chuckled softly, hooking his fingers underneath the waistband and freeing you from the last restraints, carefully shuffling your clothing down your hips as you helped him by wiggling and shifting your hips a bit.

"Could get used to this", you grinned back at him, feeling your face heat up while slowly revealing your naked form to him. Stephen had always managed to make you blush, that was no secret, but you usually weren't feeling so shy around him. Maybe it was all that time you hadn't been together or the fact that today was so different.

"I like undressing you. And if you're asking nicely for me to strip, who am I to refuse?", Stephen admitted, placing your bottoms aside, before his hands returned to your body, skirting up the length of your legs, rubbing small circles into the shins, the cap of your knee, the insides of your thighs, tickling you lightly, but stopping before going any further. God forbid, even his ministrations made you giggle – and helped you relax more, all naked in his presence.

"The sight has always been with me. From the first time on", he added.

"You're one to talk", you said, rolling your eyes at him, as if he weren't the one so annoyingly handsome and hard to forget. "Get out of your clothes, please?"

He gave you a knowing smirk, withdrawing his hands to reach for his belt buckle, seemingly in no rush to undo it, though ending up making quick work of his pants as a whole, shedding his underwear as well. It was a lovely sight, having him all naked.

If there was one thing to know about Stephen Strange, it was that he was rarely shy about the way he looked and that he took good care of himself that caused him to have a certain pride. His muscular thighs and long legs a delicious view to behold, though your eyes were a lot more drawn to the half-hard length resting between them.

"Pleased?", Stephen asked, returning to the bed and his designated spot between your legs.

"Very", you grinned, "Come give me a kiss, you hot bastard."

"Where would you liked to be kissed?", he responded with the same cunning grin, but not waiting for you to answer, bowing down low to press a kiss to your navel.

You had wanted him to press a kiss to your lips, but were not complaining as you watched him move on in adoration, his mouth peppering kisses all over your skin, fingers making their way along your thighs, keen on exploring the tender flesh and eventually reaching the apex of them.

A delicate gasp left your lips, small, barely audible. Your eyes fluttered shut, you jolted slightly at the feel of him alone. The skilled doctor's fingers never failed to awaken all kinds of feelings within you – most definitely a whole lot of arousal, hot excitement flashing inside your core as he brushed gently brushed through your folds, up to your little t-dick, quickly hardening at the attention.

"More, Stephen. Please", you huffed out and he did not disappoint, his breath trailing along the fine wisps of hair down to your crotch, before reaching your enlarged nub, ever so carefully sucking it between his lips. The hot and warm mouth on you made you nothing but ecstatic, incapable of believing your luck in this moment, and you dug your fingers a little harder into his scalp. You needed him to go on or you might just lose your mind.

Stephen was devoted to giving you pleasure in any kind, that you had known. He was simply insatiable as a lover, relentless, rough when he wanted to be, thorough and sweet when you asked him to. And at least for today, he was just yours.

Like so often before, you simply fell apart under Stephen. He was sucking on you, occasionally placing long broad licks all over you, little flicks around you that drove you crazy. His tongue worked as quick as efficient – and so did his fingers.

With his head buried between your legs, he kept you spread open, the thick pad of his thumb gently circling your hole, growing wet and needy at his ongoing teasing by the second. Enough to make you mad with lust, not quite enough to give you the pleasure you desired.

"Please, Stephen... your fingers... I need...", the words slipped out of your mouth, an incoherent babble, barely a request, but you didn't need to tell him twice.

Stephen was more of a dominant type, while you found it naturally easier to submit. But that didn't change the fact you knew exactly what you desired and how to get it, often enough having put your foot down and demanding he give into your pleas without a word of refusal. Sometimes he took and something he gave. Sometimes both at once.

Stephen's mouth was godly, his hands magic. He worked two fingers into you so easily, slender and long, sliding deep into your wetness, where you craved to feel him.

You arched into his touch, taking him to the knuckle, feeling him brush past the spot oh-so-sweet as he curled them inside of you, and the warm embrace his mouth had on your small cock, ever changing between hard sucks and skilled swipes of his tongue.

"Fuck, Stephen... you're driving me crazy", you whimpered, the combined suction on your most sensitive part and his fingers working over the perfect spot enough to make your thighs tremble already, pleasure building up too quickly.

It had been so long. Masturbation had never been as efficient, never would have been able to make yourself feel the way that Stephen accomplished, the thought of him and not being able to truly have him had tormented you anyways. But now... now you had it all.

All of Stephen, in his bed at his apartment. His mouth on you and his fingers deep within you. All of his attention on you, all of his affection for you, all of him belonging to you and all of you belonging to him. For as long as you'd decide to do this.

If you decided to forgive him, then it wouldn't only have to be tonight. There would be more chances, more opportunity, more of him and more of you together.

It didn't matter much that you had asked him to go slow, didn't matter his pace wasn't rushed at all, didn't matter he was going gently at it – there was something about him eating you out and fingering you at the same time managing to drive you to the edge all to quickly.

Overwhelmed with pleasure you were shaking, legs twitching, incapable of holding still, edging you further and further while you were so convinced it wasn't even possible to drag this out any further, tugging on his hair, mindlessly bucking your hips into him, chasing your own orgasm.

"You're gonna... gonna make me cum", you panted, squeezing your eyes shut, your desperate moans filling the room, "Gonna cum, Stephen... fuck, feels so good, feels so fucking good."

Your words continued to urge him on and Stephen did it perfectly, changing nothing, hitting the right spot with his fingers and circling your dick with his tongue in the way that made you absolutely feral. It was more than enough to pull you over the edge, all that tension coiling in your core suddenly releasing, pulsating and clenching around his fingers, pleasure surging through you and consuming all of you.

It was heavenly. Your mind went full blank, especially as he wouldn't stop lapping at you, causing you to squeeze your thighs shut, trapping him between them, hopefully not suffocating, still firmly grasping his hair. He made you squeal and squirm and lose yourself to complete ecstasy, until all of it ebbed away and you went entirely lax.

Only then did Stephen pull back, pressing a few more kisses to your thighs, chuckling lightly into your skin, clearly enjoying himself.

"Gorgeous", he hummed, pulling himself back up your body. You could feel his face close to yours by the warmth breath tickling your jaw. But good lord, you weren't sure how to function properly anymore, barely able to look at him, definitely not able to say something that would make sense.

You basked in this moment though, Stephen's warm body carefully resting half-atop you as he caressed your body all too gently, placing a kiss to your cheek.

"Are you doing okay, baby?" The term of endearment struck something deep within you, the smile on your lips must have looked so silly and droopy.

"You've officially murdered me", you huffed, hands searching something to hold onto and apparently finding his shoulders, "I'm literally pudding."

"You're ridiculous", Stephen chuckled softly, "I love to see you come apart for me."

You cracked one eye open, getting a glimpse of him looking at you rather fondly. His hard features had all softened while he observed you, his own cheeks a little heated, lips swollen red from his ministrations, but nevertheless entirely kissable.

"You're a menace", was your response and leaning into him, you claimed his mouth in another kiss. While you were still feeling the after effects of that mind-blowing orgasm, you weren't tired enough to stop wanting more of him.

He was still aroused, so you could feel, his hardness clearly poking your thighs. Not so subtly acknowledging this, you grinned, letting your hands skirt over the broad plane of his back, down to his firm ass, pressing upwards into him.

Stephen got the drift immediately, lips curling into a smile as well, and he began grinding into you again, even just the slightest friction of his cock sliding against you making him groan so sweetly.

You sucked his bottom lip between your teeth, before slightly pulling back to take a good look at him. Eyes blown dark with lust, cheeks red, small breaths passing between his lips, Stephen seemed positively flustered, his hair a damn right mess after his endeavors between your legs.

"I want you", you whispered to him, canting your hips into each movement of his, meeting his erection times and times again, "I want you so much."

"If you'd only know", he hummed, holding his body up with strong arms as he towered over you. A smile passed his lips. He spoke your name, bowing his head to gently rest your foreheads together. "You drive me crazy. I want to have you so bad", he admitted, voice low and smooth and sinfully hot. "Are you sure you can go again?"

"Yeah", you responded, digging your fingers into the firm muscle of his ass, sliding your bodies closer together, "And I'm afraid you might burst if I make you wait any longer."

"Have some faith in my self-control, will you?", he chuckled right back at you. It might have been a while, but Stephen was usually keen on drawing out the moment of being inside of you, lasting a fair amount of time. And it was what you had asked for anyways – slow and gentle, feel all of him, for as long as you could, right until the moment he'd come inside of you.

"I do", was all you said, stopping the movement of his hips as you reached between your bodies, both flush with heat, grabbing hold of his fully hardened length, throbbing in your hand with the silent request of being allowed to fill you.

You made sure to look at Stephen, keep his gaze, notice how he was holding his breath as you slid the tip of his cock over your own dick and then between your wet folds, guiding him to your entrance.

He let out a downright desperate little moan as you let him bury himself inside of you, carefully sliding into your wetness until he was to the hilt, allowing the moment to just be. You two just existed like this for a while, conjoined, him inside of you, feeling all, having all of each other, after going so long with missing this.

You locked your legs around him, keeping him in place, and brought your hands up to cup his face, smiling as you noticed the glimmer in his eyes. "Make love to me?", you requested.

Love. Whatever that entailed, whatever it meant to the two of you, whether it even was ever going to be that... During all your encounters, even the slow ones, it had always been just sex.

You had never thought anything else of it, not until it became a lot more meaningful sex, to you at least. But this, the way that Stephen was capable of making you feel, was so much more.

There was heart and soul and adoration and also lust in any of his movements, the way he checked on you between losing himself to pleasure occasionally.

He looked so handsome though, his eyes closed, brows a little furrowed as he concentrated on the sensations, lips parted, huffs of air and low groans leaving his throat. He felt perfect, like he had always done. His thrusts were slow, but nonetheless passionate, eager to fill all of you, drawing out the long strokes that drove you crazy.

"Stephen, you're so good. Feel so good", you whimpered, holding him close by his nape, needing him closer still.

"You do too, baby. So good", he murmured, brushing your mouths together again, tongue lazily tangling with yours as he kept this insanely good rhythm upright.

How did he always manage to make you feel this way, whole and complete? Every worry and sorrow brushed away, belonging to him in a way you had never belonged to anyone else.

You didn't want to belong to anyone else ever, just Stephen.

"You take my cock so well, babe", he muttered against your lips, sheathing himself within you again and again. You clenched around him, feeling the pulsating cock, a sensation you had hated to miss all that time, an action that made him feral.

"Fuck, I wanna fill you up so bad", he groaned, pulling out and sinking back in, with the same restraint, the same composure, keen on making this as slow as you had asked for, not giving into the need to fuck you harder.

"Missed you, Stephen", you whined, arms wrapped around him, hands splayed against his back, needing to pull him closer still, tilting your hips upwards in response to take him deeper, overwhelmed with a whole bunch of emotion as your body kept burning with pleasure, "Don't wanna miss you ever again."

His head sank into the crook of your neck, warm mouth brushing against your skin, rolling his hips into yours again. He only managed to speak words mangled with groans.

"Want you to be mine", you heard him say, a declaration spoken in the heat of the moment, but you couldn't help but feel as if he was meaning the truth. God, how badly you wanted to be his.

"M'yours", you whimpered right back at him, causing him to quicken his thrusts a little, though he was clearly not letting himself be overruled by passion. You sure were not going to last at this point, your whole core was throbbing and you were aching to cum, feel him cum inside of you as well.

"All yours, Stephen", you hummed again, sliding a hand between your bodies, searching for your enlarged t-dick, circling it with your fingers, adding to the pleasure.

"Gonna cum for me again, baby?", he growled, lips finding your pulse point, suckling on your neck as he kept rocking into you, every movement precise and deep.

"Oh god, yes", you moaned, working your hand faster as you felt your thighs trembling again, another upcoming orgasm consuming you as your thoughts seemed to entirely deconstruct.

You were coming apart, one of your hands searching to tug on his hair, pulling his head back up and crushing your mouths together, soon no more than a sloppy kiss shared between the two of you. Everything was so overwhelming, but there was an undoubted ease when you realized that you had Stephen. You had him right here, with you.

"I got you", he muttered in between kisses, the ongoing roll of his hips, his cock hitting these deep pleasure spots, causing you to reach your end. Bliss was washing over you. Stephen was all you could think about, all you could feel. Warmth and satisfaction burst through you in waves, momentary tension passed and you clung to him, still sliding into you, every other thrust of his drawing out more moans and sweet noises out of you.

"You're so gorgeous", he went on praising you, "My darling. I'm gonna cum. You want me to fill you up, yeah?"

You only whimpered, your words barely recognizable. "Y-yeah... come inside of me, please", you longed to feel him and he didn't disappoint. Rutting out his own pleasure, driving himself to the point of completion, he finished deep within you, coming so hard you could feel the ripple of his orgasm surge through his body, his warm cum spilling into you, his sweet and low groans ringing in your ears, mixed with the repetitive praise of your name and one little word - mine.

He called you his alone and like this, claiming your body completely, it was hard to deny how badly you wanted this to be the truth. You longed to be his, clinging onto his form as you kept him deep inside of you, embracing him. He was breathing so heavily you could feel it, brushing over your skin where his head had slumped against your shoulder.

Burying your nose in his hair, you wallowed in the moment and continued to hold him close.

You felt warm, whole. Stephen smelled so good and a little bit like home, your heart aching at the thought how you had missed it and most of all why you had to miss it in the first place.

Getting emotional after sex was nothing seldom, but you hadn't expected to feel your anxiety spike as well. A sudden rush of thoughts came up, reminding you of all the anguish and the pain of thinking you might never have this again, that he didn't want you the way you wanted him, that he would never choose you.

What if it didn't mean anything? What if Stephen was not serious about all this and just needed a way back to you, because he desired to have sex with you without wanting something more? What if this was all there was gonna be?

You couldn't bear the thought.

However, his words and tenderness and apology and his obvious need to have you again... all this gave you hope too. In the same desperate way you craved to have him physically, you were aching to just be with Stephen and want it all, with him. Right now, there wasn't anything you wanted more.

"We're having the sex of a lifetime and yet it's not enough to make you stop thinking", the rumble of his voice reached your ear. He rose his head to look at you, obvious worry on his brow, noticing that something was off.

"What's going on?"

"M'just processing all that's happened today", you admitted, reaching out to brush back some unruly hair that had fallen into his forehead, "And what it means for us."

"I don't need to ask what you want it to mean, do I?", Stephen hummed.

"Am I silly for hoping we have a chance?", you asked, vulnerability seeping through every fiber of your body, and your heart ached when Stephen paid you the most loving and gentle smile in return.

"Silly? Sometimes, yeah. But not for having these hopes", he assured you, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the tip of your nose, "I'm not quite sure what this... what we could be. What will happen with us. But I would not have asked you to forgive me, or to come here with me, if I didn't want you back."

"I just... I don't want it to be just sex. You understand that?" You wanted to smile back at him, but your head was not going to let you rest, until you had definite assurance. Maybe it would have been fairer to enjoy the moment and talk about this the morning after... but you were not going to be able to sleep soundly and be content without knowing. You had to be sure.

"Yes", Stephen acknowledged with a nod, "I'm not a total idiot, you know?"

"Could have fooled me." Your lips did quirk into a smile then. "Do you think... that maybe you could want more than just the sex?"

"Mmh", he hummed, his eyes flicking over your face as he mustered your expression, his gaze crossing yours again, "Don't get me wrong. I really love having sex with you and I have been desperate to feel you again. But I can only repeat myself. I want all of you. I think this strongly implies wanting more."

"Okay, when did you turn into a romantic?"

"It will pass, don't worry", Stephen chuckled, "Tomorrow I'll be back to my asshole, arrogant self. Even then... please know that I will still want you all the same. But it's not gonna be a walk in the park. You know me.”

"I actually don't know you all that well", you mentioned, cupping his cheek, softly caressing it, "I've only gotten small glimpses of who you really are. I think today was the closest I've ever gotten to seeing the real you and I'd love to see more of it."

"What if you won't like it? Having sex with me was the easy part. Really knowing me... I'm gonna fuck up. I have fucked up already, haven't I? You do understand I'm definitely not beyond making mistakes, I am clueless, and I wouldn't blame you... I don't want you to..."

"Just do better then", you advised him, very firmly, “And we'll work it out?”

"You're seriously giving me a chance?"

"No, I'm just saying", you began, rolling your eyes at him, his complete denseness, the momentary surprise and consideration on his face, "Idiot. Of course I'm giving you a chance. I don't want this to be the last time. And you know how I feel about you.”

"This evening turned out in both our favors then", Stephen responded and you gladly obliged to him pressing another kiss to your lips, causing him to shift slightly on top of you. The slight movement made you wince, reminding you he was still sheathed inside of you and you were entirely oversensitive at this point.

"Yeah, right... let's get untangled, before you get even more uncomfortable", he decided then, noticing your discomfort and withdrawing from you, "Would you like a shower?"

He looked about as wonderful as ever. Skin glistening, muscles straining, so beautifully dotted with his moles, hair disheveled, eyes fixated on you as he sat up on the bed. There was these ease to him now too, his demeanor having shifted after pulling down the walls he had put up around himself. For you.

"God yes", you immediately agreed, a little sweaty and absolutely sticky. You felt debauched, filthy in the way you loved it, sensing his seed trickling out of you. It did however cause you to rather awkwardly press your legs together as you pushed yourself upwards.

Stephen extended a hand, wordlessly aiding you in getting out of bed, pulling you into his strong arms, apparently not quite ready to take his hands off you. He was radiating with some sort of glee which you had never seen on him before. Maybe he was content. Maybe he was genuinely happy. And honestly, you loved to see it on him.

"You wanna watch a movie afterwards?", he inquired, both of you in your naked entirety as you staggered over to the bathroom.

"I'm probably gonna fall asleep anyways", you had to admit, beginning to realize how desperately your body was craving some rest now. You'd gone through a whole roller coaster of emotions today and having mind-blowing sex had been the cherry on top. However, falling asleep in Stephen's arms during a movie did sound oddly inviting, so you couldn't deny.

"Wore you out, didn't I?", he chuckled, getting you settled in the shower before starting it, the warm spray raining down on the two of you, keeping his hold on you.

"That's what I signed up for", you shrugged and grinned up at him, enjoying the domesticity of showering together without sexual intent. It was wholesome, taking turns to care for the other, Stephen gently soaping up your hair and rinsing it afterwards, you using the opportunity to ease a bit of tension out of his back muscles in return.

Cleaned up nicely and entirely relaxed, you eventually found yourself curled up next to him on the couch, a protective arm draped around you while you rested your head against his chest, barely watching the movie you had decided on together, too busy with enjoying just to be with Stephen.

All of this was what you signed up for too when choosing to forgive him – to be the recipient of Stephen's gentleness, to see his genuine smile, to have him close and be comfortable with him, to have actual conversations and meals together and spend quality time with him in ways you had previously not been able to.

Who knew what the next months, weeks or even tomorrow would be like. Any kind of obstacles could be coming for you soon enough, but if the two of you managed to put an effort in facing them together, perhaps it would turn out just fine.

Not that it mattered right now. You thought about the future often enough and didn't want to find yourself trapped in the same spiral of over-thinking while getting to enjoy your time with Stephen.

For today, you allowed yourself to be happy and content.

[justanothersyscourse]

Had an interesting conversation and I wanted to talk about it. This is a conversation mainly about dysfunction and distress, and ways it presents-- and how you, personally, don't need to be either to still be disordered. SO.

I don't find DPDR episodes to be distressing.

In fact, I would even go so far as to say that in the vast majority of episodes, I enjoy the experience (especially now that I understand what's happening, and the why and how).

No feels, no cares, no existence-- not me, not my life, not my problems. I appreciate the ability to go away for a while from my overwhelming emotions.

And that's SUPER dysfunctional of me, even if I enjoy it and I'm not distressed by it, because I should be able to handle minor stresses without dissociating to high hell-- and worse, enjoying it (behavioral addiction ftw).

But you know who DOES find these episodes to be distressing? My partner, especially when it happens when we're out and about doing things, when he needs us--any of us, all of us, to be there, in the moment, functionally doing adult things with him.

He doesn't need the added stress and work of leading around a floating, vaguely fussy zombie while pushing a cart full of food and trying to sort out the financial part of what's looking to be a couple hundred dollar grocery trip.

Any distress I might feel about these episodes is purely in regards to my partner's negative reactions to them.

He does his best, and he tries hard not to be upset, but I know he is, and sometimes it results in an argument and hard feelings.

This social dysfunction matters.

While I am personally fine (even happy), my symptoms have effects that create dysfunctions in my relationships and with/in other people in my life, and that's just as important to the diagnostic process.

I think it's very much ignored by the communities as an avenue of discussion. I think it gets lost in the conversation of validity and under this general feeling of... The world should cater to us (not in a negative way, just as a general statement). But it shouldn't, and we shouldn't be allowed to just do whatever we want, effects on others be damned.

Like, I don't often see conversations in the system community about dysfunction in positive, healthy relationships. There's lots of discussion around unhealthy relationships with parents and siblings, etc, but not how our symptoms affect the people we care about and those who want to see us get better.

I would even go so far as to say that the opinions and needs of others (like partners) are often ignored in the conversation of dysfunction and distress.

We all act like it's about us, us, us, but we forget that the way our behaviour and symptoms effects others is just as important in the diagnostic process and the discussion of functionality.

I would love to hear others' stories and thoughts on this.

[raeflora]

Hi again! I would really love your opinion on something, (since you said that if I ever want you to write meta on something specific I can ask)

Do you think that most D**ir shippers are Dan fans rather than Blair l fans?

I am going forward with the rewatch and I have been reading stuff here andvon other platforms and I have noticed that most D**ir focus on what Dan feels or what Dan does for Blair, ignoring Blair's emotional and mental state at the time

Furthermore they seem to want to rid Blair from all the things that make her Blair (like her ruthlessness and scheming)

Idk... For me Blair wouldn't be Blair without the good and the bad. So it makes me wonder if these people just.... Don't like Blair very much.....

hi!! this is such a good question tysm and this is gonna be long so I hope u don't mind 🫶🏻 I think generally yes d*ir fans do seem to be more fans of dan than they are of blair, and I think there are a few reasons (that I've seen) for this. some of it comes from penn badgley fans as a lot of ppl who discovered him from you on netflix have then watched gg and like dan purely bc it's him. some of it also comes from this rehash of the idea that chuck's "bad" bc of the pilot and ignoring his development, and dan's "good" bc... he's not chuck lol.

ur right in that a lot of them don't want blair to be, well, herself. as I said in my other meta post there's a lot of focus on how blair's "better" when she's with dan. she doesn't scheme, she doesn't do anything, really, except from talk about movies and artists. they think that this watered down version of blair is her true self, even though if u watch the previous 4 and a half seasons it's obvious that's just not true. they want blair to be this girl who's content to spend her days visiting museums and waiting around for dan who she's clearly not. there's nothing wrong with her that dan needs to fix, and chuck didn't corrupt her. she can be interested in art and movies and still scheme and be mean. there's no mutual exclusivity to any of her personality traits, they can all co-exist and are what make her blair. like chuck said in s2 it's stupid to want her to be anything other than what she is.

also, ur so right again in that they ignore blair's mental state. she's obviously not in a good place in s5 and probably shouldn't jump into any relationship after her divorce. but dan pushes her into it. throughout the show she belittles him, insults him, makes fun of serena dating him, and generally just doesn't like him. while they're dating she still doesn't seem that keen on him. there's talk of how she's happier and smiling all the time with dan, but she's not. she effectively throws a tantrum being seen out with him and she can't celebrate his career, she instead undermines and upstages him. her behaviour doesn't seem like someone who's found her perfect match. it seems like someone who's in a confusing transitional period of her life and clings to the nearest man, like she did with carter in s2. if dan was this great perfect man he'd say he couldn't date her right away, let her sort herself out. but no, he forces her to be more than just friends bc, where she's so isolated from everyone else, if she loses him then she loses her only support system (the fact that she becomes so reliant on dan humphrey in the wake of her miscarriage is something for another post) so she kind of has to get into a relationship with him, even though she's not ready mentally.

in terms of liking blair, I think that most d*ir fans like their own version of blair, instead of the canon version. this might be connected to them often preferring dan, and then they just project traits onto blair that aren't hers. I don't know why they don't do this to serena btw, bc her relationship with dan is significantly more important, and she was far more willing to do "ordinary" things with him than blair. ultimately I think they want d*ir, and blair individually, to be something they're not and were never going to be. d*ir isn't sethmer or paceyjoey or whoever else they compare them to. blair isn't someone they can shape into fitting their ideas like dan does, she's her own distinct character and if they don't like her then they should admit it instead of mischaracterising her

[amphiptere-art]

So I'm just going to post some weird vomit on all the things going on with the newest sun and moon show episode. There's been a lot of people saying that moons sacrifice shouldn't be as sad as some people have made it. And other people defend the episode and moon.

I won't deny, I've never seen Moon as a kind person. He is always been really cruel. But I also see why people want to support him. He's a character who is "rough" and yet makes friends and companionships. He's the perfect example of a person who has issues with society and yet still be able to mix in. His comments towards sun are probably not as harsh as they're supposed to be in his mind. But he also isn't apologetic at all.

He does not seem to progress, at least not in his actions towards sun. He seems to progressed when it comes to other people, Monty, Golden Freddy, extra. And yet he still stays suck on his version of Sun and his version of how he interactions sun. I don't think he is purposely being cruel. But he is naturally cruel and unfortunately not fixing any issues he has with sun. He failed to do anything with sun's anger until it was too late. He refuses to help sun and what can only be described as willing ignorance. He's not a good brother. But he is not a bad person. That part is clear.

Moon has lots of things on his own plate. a feeling of regret is embedded deep in him as much as sun. He regrets what he did to his brother. he regrets what he's doing now. he regrets how he left his kill code in sun to make eclipse. And he's trying to do something. getting rid of the eclipse. getting rid of kill code. protecting his family in a way that is very physical. Unfortunately he is missing the mental stability of his family. And unfortunately he seems the only really notice when tensions are so high that it's hard not to. He's fixing the wrong stuff and fixing it the wrong way. He has a motivation to fix what he has done to sun. But he's unwilling to do actions that would actually help.

This is always been a thing I've gone back to but he is eclipse. That was a thing eclipse said at the very start. The only difference is that eclipse is willing to go through a more personal and physical way of doing everything that moon.. probably has secretly wanted to do. I don't know if I'll call Moon a manipulator. But he definitely feels like a gas lighter. Somebody who throws away the truth. Although I won't deny it does feel more like he's hiding from it. Moon doesn't like it when it's pushed at a forefront that he is a bad guy. And defends that point by either saying "it's just how I am" or by threatening with violence.

There's a part of me that wishes that moon could have met Earth. Earth out of everyone could have definitely snapped him into shape. Earth would have noticed what he was doing and Earth would have told him to stop. Earth could perhaps lead him through the steps that could actually help fix his relationship with his brother and positively move the character forward. But we are not getting that angle. Earth will never be able to correct moon at least not as he is now. Sure there's a high possibility that reset Moon will act very similar to the moon we have now. But it won't be the same.

I wish the creators of the show would have tried to fix moons problems naturally. It's not unheard of, It might be hard but it's not unheard of. And it's clear that he has changed when interacting with other people. This positive fix exists. But I don't think the creators of the show know how to pull it off. at least not this far out. Maybe if they started earlier it could have worked but the closest we ever got to it was when Sun started having anger issues. at that point Moon decided to lock him up and put it as a "fix later" after his first true attempt failed. At that point they got so separated that any chance of them fixing it out naturally just wouldn't be able to happen at all.

Honestly this relationship is one we're usually the siblings would separate. I have done so with my brother. Someone I could describe is very much like moon although in different ways of course. I haven't seen my brother in what, 8 years? And yet I know from my other brothers and sisters that he's living a perfectly fine life he has friends and family that care for him. He's just not part of my life anymore and I'm honestly happier without him. Moon is not a bad person but he is a bad brother.

And all tho strange, I am slightly happy that his character is getting "reset". If you couldn't have done earlier and if they can't do it with Earth and this is possibly the next best thing. I just hope this moon doesn't end up like nice eclipses moon.

[feligis69]

Mapleshade

The way people try to push the idea that Mapleshade has some kind of mental disorder is insane. Like yes! Let's diagnose this crazy bitch with a serious and complex disorder just because she's experiencing two things that can also be caused by literally anything else! I am saying this as a mentally disabled person with clinically diagnosed disorders. I'm saying this as someone who has to suffer from psychosis. You don't know what you're talking about, so please shut up.

Psychosis is not just hallucinations and hearing things; the same thing can be said for schizophrenia; it's a lot more complex, and I think it's ignorant as all hell to continually push the false narrative that she's mentally ill and that it's "not her fault" or "she shouldn't be held accountable" because of a disorder. Psychosis stems from being disconnected from reality and could also occur due to schizophrenia. Psychosis is defined by behavior that shows the patient is losing touch with reality. These behaviors can be widely varied. Some common ones are not responding to stimuli (no matter how hard you try to engage them in conversation or try to get them to respond, they simply don’t do anything), delusional thinking, hallucinations (auditory being the most common), and social isolation.

Psychosis is a breakdown of that ability, where the real and the unreal start to meld together, and it shows up as delusions, hallucinations, or disordered thinking. Delusions are strongly held and abnormal, often bizarre thoughts that you cannot convince a person out of and won't consider alternative explanations. Hallucinations are things that you sense in the world around you that aren't really there, like sounds, objects, smells, tastes, and sensations. People with schizophrenia may often experience delusions where they think things are moving (not like cars or animals). Things look more sinister. Thoughts becoming loud, feeling as if someone is out to get them, having thoughts that did not originate from them.

While yes, Mapleshade did experience two of these things, you need to understand that these are not exclusive to mental disorders. My caretaker, who has a somewhat healthy mind and no records of disorders, experienced hallucinations of hearing things after Grandpa died. The whole nine yards. These disorders are a lot more complex than people think they are, and I especially think it's childish to call people ableists when they tell you Mapleshade doesn't have psychosis or schizophrenia. What's more ableist is to try and speak about an illness you know nothing more about, watering it down to simple symptoms that can be caused by literally anything.

You're making it seem as if these disorders aren't as serious as they actually are. And it needs to stop. Her hallucinations were caused by grief and stress, as confirmed by the specific author of that book. Yes, grief can cause hallucinations, as I've had them myself. Also, another point I would like to make is that if she really was schizophrenic or had psychosis (this can sometimes exist on its own), then why hasn't it been displayed throughout the series during the few times we've ever seen her? These disorders don't magically go away, and despite how forgetful Erin's are, I don't think they'd just easily forget something like that when she plays a massive role in the two main books.

[iunctura-arch]

Bad End!AU - The "End" of "Us", The "Beginning" of "You"

Taking place months after Tatsuki's fourteenth birthday and her first transformation into Dark, instead of being sent back in time, Tatsuki successfully steals the "Time Lock" and returns it to her home.

However, because of this, Tatsuki is not safe from her timeline's Krad. Going back in time actually prevented Tatsuki from having to face Krad (until she returns, of course) for an extended amount of time.

So, guess who shows up while the two are having a leisurely stroll because there's literally nothing to do and a walk sounded nice. If you guessed Krad, you get a cookie. Usual Krad vs Dark shenanigans ensue.

It goes on for a few days, actually. Because Krad's tamer in Tatsuki's timeline is an adult, there's a bit more freedom in how Krad can attack Tatsuki and, in turn, Dark.

He does attack them one day while both Tatsuki and Makoto are on the way to school, nearly sending them off the tram area, mirroring how the two had brushed with death when Makoto fell off because he was pushed by an impatient passenger the day of Tatsuki's 14th birthday.

They do end up falling after a moment, as Krad attacks again, and this forces Tatsuki to transform to save Makoto and herself. Given that it's Saint White's Day in Azumano, Tatsuki's dressed pretty smartly (dress shirt and slacks), so Dark's wearing this same outfit when he lands and lets go of Makoto to face Krad.

It goes downhill, as Dark can't really use magic against Krad because it'd put a strain on Tatsuki. Tatsuki argues she can handle it- she handled manifesting his wings, so magic shouldn't be a problem. Unfortunately, it is, but neither of them know that.

It ends up with a fatal blow being dealt- at least for Tatsuki. With her life slowly ending, with each painful breath, Tatsuki gives up her existence to Dark. She chooses to let him take her body- take her place.

Instead of Dark disappearing, like is normal, Tatsuki disappears. She leaves him with just a simple "thank you", and is never heard again.

A week later, Dark wakes up in the hospital in Tatsuki's form and not his own. People are there- Doctors, Nurses, but all he can ask is "Where's Tatsuki?"

Reaching for her in his mind doesn't help. Her voice is gone, her comforting presence is gone. Everything is gone. The normalcy he became used to, the late-night talks when she couldn't sleep-- all of it is gone and it feels like there's something missing.

He shoves these feelings away and pretends he's not affected by it. Pretends to be Tatsuki and deals with the emotions by ignoring them. They aren't his, he rationalizes, so they don't matter.

Dark then plays the role of Tatsuki for years, never forgetting who he really is. And around Tatsuki's eighteenth birthday, he steals a device from a traveler from another world, effectively stranding them there while using it for his own gain.

That gain? Leaving. He leaves Azumano-- Tatsuki's homeworld-- and travels with the device. This device? It's called Elekleid. A multidimensional armor that can allow the user to hop from world to world-- universe to universe. And Dark uses it to leave behind the world Tatsuki was born in.

The identity he takes on in other worlds is "Sasaki Shiori", an up-and-coming idol who has a lot of emotion to her songs. But every time he leaves a world, "Shiori" is forgotten unless a strong bond has been forged between him and the person who remembers. He still steals, but only to survive and not for any other reason, and his true self is only revealed when he dons Elekleid to move on to another world.

Dark is a drifter in the multiverse in the bad end au, so he doesn't stay in one place for too long regardless of circumstance.

[northern-passage]

Why did you feel the need to get annoyed by another account’s ask? An account that is already known to be NSFW and who accepts NSFW asks. They weren’t even asking how to find NSFW IFs, they were asking for recommendations from that author. I really love your story, but I despise the way you treat other authors and readers who simply have different opinions than you. This isn’t the first time you’ve decided to put your opinion in places it doesn’t belong. You don’t speak for all authors, and if another author has a problem with an ask or something, they can say something. You constantly show up on multiple blogs with some kind of complaint, you’re snippy and rude to other IF authors, you are hostile to askers who just want to understand where you’re coming from, and it’s very hard to appreciate what you do properly if all you do is cause drama amongst the IF community. There is already enough problems in this community and you feed every single fire. You push your way into every problem and it’s so difficult to try to follow your story when you’re constantly posting about issues that have nothing to do with you. I truly believe you’re an amazing writer who has such a bright future ahead of you, but you need to stop trying to worm your way into everything or you’ll lose a lot.

that particular ask Annoys Me, yes, and i did make that comment; it annoys me. there are a lot of things in the IF community that annoy me.

however, i reblogged it to point out how to turn the adult content filter off on itch.io, in an effort to Help that person find more games. i'm not trying to argue, i'm literally friends with that author, lmfao. i feel like so many of my comments on here get interpreted as me being "mean" when i'm literally just making a statement. obviously, the issue is not that the ask was sent to that blog (as i stated in the tags) but the way it has been circulated elsewhere. and i really don't think me saying an ask is annoying is that big of a deal, to be completely frank with you.

i'm assuming this instance isn't the actual one you have a problem with, though, and if you are really this bothered by me pointing out that we do Not exist in a bubble and the things you say on tumblr about other authors, other games, other characters are all things that people will see and possibly take issue with, especially when those things are being put directly in the interactive fiction tag (so they are clearly Meant to be seen and circulated. i am not just "showing up" on people's blogs), then i really don't know what to tell you. this is the internet. you are posting publicly, you are posting about Other People’s content. i will comment on it if i want to.

i've already explained my whole issue with the way some people treat nsfw content here on tumblr in the IF community and i'm not rehashing it again.

and you're right, i don't speak for all authors, but you do realize... i am friends with other authors, and we talk and discuss things that happen in the community amongst ourselves? we share opinions? and while they have nothing to do with my comments in the tags, or any of my previous discussions about this, i am friends with the author i just reblogged that ask from? and honestly, just because it's me saying it shouldn't automatically make you disregard it just because you all dislike me.

unfortunately, the reality is a lot of people are uncomfortable saying anything, because this is the reaction. i'm called a "bully" for pointing out that someone's post made other people uncomfortable. do you hear yourself? would any other course of action really have made a difference here, or would the story just change to me "trying to bully smaller authors in DMs, behind closed doors" instead? forgive me for feeling skeptical.

so what is the solution? to just ignore behavior that people find uncomfortable for the sake of "peace" or whatever? cus that's definitely going to help things improve.... sorry, but that's not the kind of person i am.

as for me being hostile, again, i feel like so many of the things i say are interpreted as me being rude or mean because i don't fill my responses with please and thank yous and positive affirmations. that's not my problem, that's yours. i have been hostile in the past to certain anons because they're purposefully trying to get a rise out of me, or are people that have been sending me shit for weeks and it annoys me. other times it's people sending me transphobic or homophobic shit and i'm not going to respond nicely, because as a gay trans person, it makes me angry, no matter what the original message's intent was. yes, i am going to have a problem with people that have homophobic and transphobic opinions, or as you put it, "different opinions than me." i have listened to other people's comments and thoughts before, i've posted opinions that i don't necessarily agree with, i’ve posted criticisms, but forgive me for not entertaining bigots on my blog. either way, even the instances where i have been Incredibly polite, people still tell me i'm being "too mean." and at the end of the day, i'm not going to deny it, i have been aggressive sometimes 🤷 because i have to be or else people won't listen and won't respect my boundaries. you have Not seen my inbox. you have not seen the kind of messages i receive here.

there also seems to be this prevalent assumption that you and i are friends, or that i am meant to be friends with every reader and every other author... we are Strangers. we are strangers on the internet (and you specifically are anonymous), i am not obligated to be your friend, or be super nice to you when you make me uncomfortable, and you’re not obligated to like every single thing i say. i do not Know you. this is incredibly important: you do not know me, i do not know you. not just at you, anon, but in general: i am not your friend. i am not your buddy, we are not familiar with each other, and i don't like when people act like we are and ignore basic etiquette and cross my boundaries.

there also seems to be this assumption that any "negative" comment is a "call out" or some kind of attempt at "cancellation".... that is not the case. me saying something is annoying is not "drama." it's just me saying that something is annoying. i'm not trying to Cancel every anon that has sent that ask, or whatever it is that you think i'm doing here. i literally just find the sudden fixation on nsfw content lately to be annoying. you are welcome to disagree, i literally don't give a shit.

pointing out racism and transphobia or other kinds of similar problems in other games and within the community is not "drama." so i don't really know what else you're referencing here when it comes to me having "complaints."

likewise, me telling someone that "x made people uncomfortable" is not me trying to argue, or start "drama." i cannot believe this has turned into such an issue?? like i am genuinely baffled over the response to this whole thing. personally, if something i did made someone uncomfortable in that way, i would want to know so i could correct it and make sure it doesn't happen again. i genuinely feel like i am in the fucking twilight zone, here.

i really don't have anything else to say about this. i'm not trying to change anyone's opinion about me, i am aware of what most people in this community think of me and it is what it is. if you have actual criticism beyond me hurting your feelings, then i’ll listen to it, but my focus at this point is keeping this space comfortable for me and the people around me and i'm going to keep doing that as long as i'm here working on these games, and if you take issue with that.... you can just unfollow me.

[creation-help]

Hiya! I’m here because I’m conflicted about pursuing an idea for a creative project that’s been popping into my brain a lot lately.

I’ve been convincing myself to stick to simpler and more light hearted stories because I don’t think I have what it takes to follow such an ambitious goal.

I do really want to end up making something out of it, but my current drawing skill level and my certainty that it’ll just be lost in the sea of other better stories and never get any attention is really turning me away from it.

I’m not sure of what to do anymore. Sorry if your not currently answering asks, your under no pressure to respond to me

Dear fuzzyman, I understand wanting to limit what you do to avoid unneeded stress and keep things casual, in order to keep it more fun. But I strongly recommend you don't limit yourself in what you want to do, just bc you think it wouldn't turn out good enough! I understand that feeling too, I have many things like that for myself, and I've been through the crushing ordeal, of putting alot of passion into an ambitious project only for it to crash or sizzle away slowly and painfully (the reason this blog exists, actually, fun fact). I've talked about it fairly often on this blog by now, but social media really is ruining artists on a large scale. Getting engagement feels rewarding, and it's natural to want recognition for what you do and to be seen by other people, bc heck we put alot of effort and just, alot, emotionally speaking, into our art. The way social media has become a fast consumption, blow up now or remain a nobody forever -kind of landscape really abuses that. Unfortunately alot of it is done intentionally to benefit businesses, not people. Anyhow.

I wanted to say all that to acknowledge that your fears are founded, and valid, but despite all that I also want to say all this that follows.

Your drawing level doesn't dictate how well you make things. It doesn't dictate what you should or shouldn't try. You do. If you truly want to make something even though it would be challenging, then you do that! If you want to wait on it and gather fuel for the fire slowly then you do that! I know it's easier said than done but prioritize yourself as an artist over the final product. Why do you create? I know some create just to share, and some just to get recognition, and while both have their own negative sides (and I wouldn't recommend the latter to anyone), they're still legit reasons to create. I'm not gonna tell people why they should or shouldn't make art. If they have the want and drive to make it, that's about it. Art in itself is just about making things to express or vent out some feeling or idea.

However you did say yourself that you really want to make something out of it. So while I wanted to acknowledge the complexity of these things, if you're here to just get that push to finally do it, I'm doing that to you now! I'm pushing you (gently). Do it even if it would only be seen by some few people, do it even if you're afraid of it not reaching up to your standards, bc guess what that's okay! Nothing can be perfect and art is never done. You'll continue to learn and improve over time if you work on these things and look into it, bc storytelling is also something that can require alot of learning and effort. Don't let that intimidate you, bc you aren't one of those other artists who, in your eyes, does it better, and you're also not the person who has already failed. You're a person who has an idea they want to pursue. You're the artist that can do exactly what you can do, and that is unique to yourself. And that is enough. Focus on that. And I do promise, every other artist has these same doubts, and the people you look up to have their own struggles. And that you can and will improve in these things as you go along. I really really encourage you to ignore the numbers and make bc of what you want to make, and out of the passion for what you do. It can be very hard, I know, but I promise it's better for you in the long run.

And like I've said before, it's not "That cake is way better than mine", it's "Yay more cakes!".

However if you don't feel ready to tackle this project yet that's fine. Neither you nor your story is a failure for not existing, or being left incomplete. Every creation is just it's own experience. That said you can come here to share your story and I can boost the stuff you make! All the best, fuzzyman