#and half see ourselves in it too much to not feel offput

[simonstamenovic]

the post abt therapy recommenders is like. yes. but also ik for a fact some of u r pettily rbing that while sitting in ur little pile of self hatred like well ok pay for my therapy then it all sucks anyway it wont help

[newprophecy-redux]

Chapter II

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

The moon hung in the sky, nearly at it’s highest point by the time Stormfur and Feathertail finally emerged from their nests in the warrior den. They could hear Mistfoot, the Riverclan deputy, speaking low, but clearly, organizing the night’s patrols.

It was strange, though she was their mother’s cousin, Mistfoot acted more like an aunt to the brother and sister pair than anything. “Ah, good. You’re awake.” The dark silver-blue molly meowed, beckoning the siblings closer with the crook of her tail.

Feathertail was still leaning heavily on Stormfur’s shoulder, blinking lazily, and biting back a yawn, still struggling to wake up. “Just barely, Mistfoot. Did you need us?” He asked with a small laugh, and she nodded.

“Leopardstar wants us to do a border-check at Sunningrocks and renew our scent marker by the falls.” She explained quickly, but kept her voice down, certainly not wanting to stir up any excitement in the younger warriors and the easily impressionable apprentices.

Feathertail sighed. “Do you think she’ll try to make a move against Firestar for it so soon?” She asked. “Newleaf’s only just begun.” The young she-cat pointed out.

Stormfur was worried about his sister. She didn’t sleep very well at all last night, whimpering and crying in her sleep. It woke him up a few times too, and he tried to soothe her the best he could, but when he asked about it, she couldn’t give him a clear answer about the weird dreams.

So maybe this was what she needs. To get out and stretch her legs, get some fresh air. “I know. But you know how much we all enjoy Sunningrocks...If we can take it for ourselves, and have it for the elders, it could benefit us later on as a possible hunting place as it warms up.” Mistfoot commented on her own, and Stormfur could see where she was coming from.

Besides, even after all of these moons -- There’s always been tension between Riverclan and Thunderclan over that prime basking spot. Even before Oakheart and Redtail...No. Tigerstar…

“Anyway. I’m going to lead one party, with Shadepelt, Primroseheart, and Splashtail.” Mistfoot continued. “Beechfur will lead the other, with you two, and…” The deputy looked around, trying to find any other available cat still around in camp. She’d hate to have to wake anyone else.

They were stretched quite thin over the course of a long, unforgiving leafbare, and knew they all still needed some time to recover.

“I’ll go, Mistfoot.” A new voice sounded, and all three heads swiveled around to see who it was.

“Hawkfrost.” She answered smoothly, carefully, eyeing the unnaturally beautiful tom. His muscles rippled beneath a sleek, perfectly groomed pelt. “Thank you, but weren’t you already a part of the evening patrol earlier?” Mistfoot asked.

“Well, yes. But I really don’t mind. Still a bit too exhausted to try and sleep yet, you know? Antsy paws.” He replied, sitting down among them, angling his ears in greeting to Stormfur and Feathertail.

His sister smiled brightly, as usual, trilling her own hello’s, and Stormfur grunted softly, dipping his head.

“...Alright. And I want to send out a hunting party, too. Reedwhisker and Blackclaw, and I think I want Mosspelt to round it out. With their apprentices, that should be more than enough.” Mistfoot finished, pleased with her own choices. “Can you two go and ask your mother about that? I’m going to gather the rest of my group.”

Feathertail nodded. “Okay Mistfoot, we will. Good luck!” She said, and Mistfoot stood with a small smile, shaking herself out, before disappearing behind a patch of dense underbrush.

“That just leaves me, then. I’ll wait for you at the entrance.” Hawkfrost said, turning on his own heels, and vanishing with a whisk of his elegant, plumed tail.

Stormfur could still feel his unnaturally icy blue eyes watching them, even as Feathertail nudged his shoulder, guiding him along to go and seek out Mosspelt.

“I never know how I feel about him.” He muttered, glancing back over his shoulder more than once as they went.

“Oh, come now. He’s a good, loyal warrior. We’re lucky to have him, whether we know where his sire comes from or not.” His sister was much less offput by strangers than him, always friendly and welcoming, and always willing to give the benefit of the doubt. He only hoped that it wouldn’t leave her scorned and jaded one day.

“What about Mothwing?” Hawkfrost’s sister, and Mudfur’s apprentice had started out training as a warrior along with her brother, much like Stormfur and Feathertail, but eventually, she had found her calling elsewhere, when Leopardstar had encouraged her father to find an apprentice to start training for his retirement. Just like him in his younger days, so long ago.

The elder tom certainly wasn’t getting any younger, so it was a blessing from Starclan themselves when he had received a sign in the form of, wouldn’t you know it? A moth’s wing, just outside his den. It didn’t get much clearer than that, and she moved into the medicine cat’s den within the next few days.

“What about Mothwing?” Stormfur echoed Feathertail, tilting his head in some small confusion as to what she was getting at.

“I mean, you weren’t nearly this…” Her whiskers twitched, searching for the right word. “Not mistrusting, but. You know what I mean.” She decided. “When she was helping Mudfur patch you up after that scuffle with Duspelt and Thornclaw last moon.” She teased, brushing her tail over the newest scar on one of his forelegs.

“Thunderclan’s tough, I don’t care what anyone else says.” He snorted, shaking his head. “I’m just glad Father wasn’t there.” Stormfur said, some small curiosity lingering there as to whether or not Graystripe’s good friend would tell him he’d fought  his son in a border skirmish.

Feathertail grew silent, something more there behind her clear blue eyes whenever either one of them brought up their parents. Either of them.

“Besides, why are you defending him, anyway? Do you fancy Hawkfrost?” Now that...That was a jarring thought that all but made his pelt crawl. The thought of Feathertail falling in love...Taking a mate...Having kits.

He’d heard stories of their grandmother, Willowbreeze. How she’d succumbed to illness so soon after her own kitting. And then, of course, their birth-mother Silverstream.

There was an unsettling, horrifying pattern here. And as they say, ‘it comes in three’s’.

Who’s to say that he wouldn’t one day lose his own beloved sister, if she tried to start a family of her own?

He couldn’t bear it. But, it wasn’t as if he could ever...Would ever try to stop her, either.

Ultimately, he wanted nothing for her but happiness. No matter what it meant for his own sake.

But as ever, like some sort of link between them, Feathertail could sense when his thoughts were darkest, giving a bright, cheerful laugh to bring him back. “What, do you?” She teased in turn, just the same, leaving him flabbergasted as usual with her antics.

“Wh-What? Where’d you ever get an idea like that?!” Stormfur shook his head vehemently, giving her a rough, but playful shove of the shoulder. “I’m just saying.” Suddenly feeling hot under his fur, he cut his eyes away to look elsewhere.

“And I’m just saying he’s not so different than us. Both of them. Mistfoot and Stonefur trained us to be loyal to Riverclan, as did Hawkfrost and Mothwing’s mentors. I don’t doubt that they wouldn’t give everything for us.” Feathertail rationalized calmly, and somehow, he couldn’t come up with another sharp retort this time.

He could hear his former mentor’s voice in his ears now, chiding him for being so quick to judge another with no reason for it. After all, they’d been born half-clan as well, whether they knew it from the beginning or not.

Once more, yet again he realized just how strangely similar the circumstances were, the string of events that happened in these particular clanmates’ lives that brought them all together.

It wasn’t Hawkfrost’s fault. Perhaps he should try to be more open. Try to be more like Feathertail and give him the benefit of the doubt. “Alright, alright. I suppose it’s a good thing he’s coming with us. He’s a good hunter.”

“See? There you go!” Feathertail purred happily, nosing the tip of his ear. “But we should really hurry, we don’t want to keep him waiting.” She said, and he sighed heavily in response, the two of them hurrying along to find Mosspelt, who was nosing at a piece of fresh kill from the pile.

“Mosspelt.” Stormfur called, and the tortoiseshell female immediately lifted her head, a mother’s sheer instinct to look around and find whenever she heard one of her kits call. Though she didn’t kit them, she nursed them and loved them as her own alongside her only son, Beechfur.

“There you two are! I was wondering where you wandered off to when I didn’t find either of you in your nests.” She smiled, having to stretch up on her toes to meet Stormfur to touch noses with him, and then give Feathertail a lick between the ears.

“Sorry, Mistfoot wanted to talk to us.” Her adopted daughter explained, and the older molly’s brows raised in surprise.

“Ah, I see. Well, nothing bad, I hope?” When they both shook their heads, she nodded, once more turning around to nose at the few fish and water vole carcassses upon the pile. “A bit small. I was going to pick something out and take it to Dawnflower. She had some trouble kitting, so Mudfur wants to make sure she keeps up her strength.

Stormfur shuffled his paws. “Everyone’s alright, though?” He asked.

Mosspelt nodded for herself, giving a smile. “She’s strong, the kits are healthy. Leopardstar is pleased with them.”

“Maybe we can go see them tomorrow, after she has some more time to rest.” Feathertail commented, and Stormfur shrugged. “Oh, speaking of. Mistfoot wants you to join Blackclaw and Reedwhisker on a hunting party. She’s going to take a patrol to the falls, and Feathertail and I are going to be part of a second group to go and check our side of Sunningrocks.”

It was evident that Mosspelt had much of the same trail of thought that Stormfur did earlier, about Leopardstar possibly going to try and make a move against Thunderclan sooner rather than later, but only time would tell.

“But she didn’t want to go with her son? That’s odd.” Mosspelt voiced instead, and Feathertail’s visage turned solemn.

“She’s going to be with Primroseheart this time instead. I guess after Perchkit passed away, and then Pikepaw joined Starclan way too soon afterwards...She and Blackclaw still might not be on good terms.” But it was evident that the deputy was still trying to keep some small sense of unity for her little family, heartbreaking as the last year had been for all of them.

Terrible disease, and a brutal winter both were heartless killers of the unfortunate young and old alike.

“I see. Well, if you see her before you go, let her know that I’ll be glad to join them. I’ll go and see if I can’t catch up with them now.” Mosspelt gave a smile nonetheless. “Is Beechfur going too?” She couldn’t help but ask about her third kit.

Stormfur nodded. “Yes, he’s actually going to be part of our patrol.” He answered, and there was no masking the flash of pride on the she-cat’s face at the thought of all of them together again. It didn’t happen very often now that they were warriors. “Good! I’m sure he’ll be glad. Good luck, and be safe out there.” She warned goodnaturedly.

“Of course. You too. We’ll see you when you get back.” Feathertail promised, and once more, the small group of cats broke away, the two of them heading for the thick patch of reeds that marked the entrance of the camp.

--

Hawkfrost was already waiting for them there, as he said, Beechfur crouched there with him, down at his side. Sitting up when the pair of siblings came closer, he gave a languid stretch. “Alright, that’s all of us then. C’mon.”

At first, it was an odd sort of setup. Feathertail was walking shoulder to shoulder with Beechfur taking up the point, talking happily and excitedly with their other brother, with Stormfur just behind them for the time being, and Hawkfrost taking up the rear.

That wasn’t unsettling at all.

“...You look like you’ve got a burr in your tail.” Hawkfrost suddenly rumbled quietly behind him, nearly making him jump. Forcing the fur along his shoulders to lie flat, he gave an awkward sort of laugh.

But the other tom didn’t react, blinking at him with brows raised. “Ah...Sorry. Guess I’m a bit anxious myself.” Stormfur cleared his throat, and Hawkfrost twitched his whiskers, something like a smile, pushing ahead to walk in step with him at the moment.

“What, afraid Shadowclan is going to come creeping up and attack unexpectedly?” He asked, and Stormfur was left almost reeling. Was...Was he trying to make a joke?

“Uh...Ah, hah. N-No, of course not. They might like dark, but we’d smell them coming from fox-lengths away.” Stormfur replied, trying to mimic the same cool, aloof atmosphere that Hawkfrost seemed to radiate so effortlessly.

Really, he and Mothwing were only a few moons younger than him and Feathertail, so why was he getting him in such a tizzy?! Honestly!!

“Mm, yes. We would.” Hawkfrost agreed simply, though his tail did lash once with some emotion that Stormfur couldn’t quite place, pushing ahead yet again to come up on Beechfur’s other side, muttering something in his ear that Stormfur couldn’t hear from this distance.

Conversation over, now it was Feathertail’s turn to fall back and join him, at her usual place at his side. “Well?” She asked.

“Well what?” Stormfur muttered, pinning his ears slightly, trudging along.

“...Nothing, nevermind.” She smiled gently, keeping him company by making idle chat about nothing in particular. Sunningrocks wasn’t too far, and it didn’t take them long to get there, stopping up on something like a gentle rise, a hill that overlooked the area where the mighty stones sat cooling in the night on Thunderclans’ side of the border.

Stormfur’s nose wrinkled at the multiple different scents of the other clan cats. Firestar obviously wasn’t shirking on keeping it marked, boasting his clan’s pride about currently owning the prime spot.

Beechfur hissed slightly, but there was no use getting so worked up over it now. They couldn’t do anything unless Leopardstar gave the say-so, or if any Thunderclan cats stepped out of line. And if there was anything Firestar could do, it was keeping his own clan in line, at least.

Hawkfrost worked his claws in the earth slightly, pulling up grass and dirt. “We’ll have it back soon enough.”

“Oh, I’m sure of it.” Beechfur responded, the two toms saying nothing more, just staring out silently into the darkness, before they broke off into pairs, working their way down to their faint borderline. Smelled like it was a good idea for them to go ahead and come out this way.

No reason to give Thunderclan a reason to think they were weak and couldn’t even defend their own scentmarkers.

He and Feathertail brushed up against a few patches of grass here and there together, scenting along some rocks, and other things of the like, moving on down the invisible trail. “I wonder how Graystripe is? I hope we get to see him at the next gathering.”

“Me too.” Stormfur hummed. They’ve always had a good relationship with their rival clan’s deputy, and thankfully, after everything they’ve been through, Leopardstar never again held it against them to see him and talk to him during the night of peace.

Everything’s different now, and so far, it’s seemed to have changed for the better for the whole forest.

“Feathertail! Come here.” That was Hawkfrost, his voice calling from further down the way, and the siblings looked at eachother, before rushing along to meet up with him and Beechfur to see what’s wrong.

But they didn’t even have to ask. The wind shifted just slightly, carrying a strong, acrid stench across to them from within Thunderclan territory.

“Do you smell that?” Beechfur growled, and even Hawkfrost, normally so calm and collected for a cat so young, was bristling, eyes like hard chips of ice.

“A badger?” Feathertail was horrified, and Stormfur felt his tail bristle in aprehension. The scent wasn’t strong. A few hours old, at least, but there was obviously an altercation at some point earlier. Some stale cat-scent mixed along with it, but no overwhelming metallic tang of blood, at least.

Whichever Thunderclan cats came across the horrifying black and white beast must have managed to chase it off. But which way did it go from there?

The thought briefly occured to Stormfur to suggest if they should try to track it. Corner it, and try to fend it off for themselves. Make sure that it was gone for good, but. Even with four strong, quick, capable warriors, there was no guarantee. In the end, it could be a suicide mission.

He and Feathertail remembered when Firestar reported that Willowpelt, one of Thunderclan’s senior warriors, had been killed by a badger last leafbare...Unknown to them, their own grandmother. She was a good cat, and all four clans mourned her death, especially her three kits, Sorreltail, Rainwhisker and Sootfur. Could it be the same one?

Hawkfrost spat, shaking his head. “We need to tell Leopardstar and Mistfoot about this.” They needed to warn the clan, and make sure the apprentices and the queens were aware of the danger. For once, Stormfur completely agreed with him.

Beechfur nodded. “I don’t think it crossed this way, at least. They’re good diggers, but not great climbers. Hopefully it just moved on, but…” Brows knit, his whole body was still tense. “We should get back. I think we all know what’s going to happen next.”

With a tick of his tail, the quartet of Riverclan cats turned round and trotted swiftly back to camp, long tails streaming behind them. They didn’t want to rush and cause a premature panic until they did some more investigating in the daylight, but there was no time to waste.

So much for the forest being a safer place with Bloodclan gone!

[sherrybaby14]

Who Am I? Part 14

Summary: My take on A/B/O with Marvel

Pairings: Bucky/Reader this chapter

Warnings: A/B/O, oral, light smut

Tags: @buckyscrystalqueen @blondesouthsquad @purplemuse89 @screeching-pterodactyl-fangirl @taintedgenre @roschelesworld @kellyn1604 @negan-is-god

@idonthavehusbandsihavelovers @mac5323 @marauderice @thecynicalnerd @debzybrazy @faegal04 @siren-kitten-his

Who Am I? Masterlist (I’m on mobile, so it’s not pretty)  https://sherrybaby14.tumblr.com/post/163713894097/who-am-i-masterlist

You went up on your toes and placed a kiss on Steve’s lips.  He looked so pleased with himself as you dropped back down.

“Have fun today.”  He reached out and ran his hand down your arm.  

“I’ll miss you.”  After your shopping trip yesterday you could barely keep your hands off each other all night.  This morning was no exception.  

“Don’t worry Doll.”  Bucky pulled you back against his chest. “I’ll keep you company.”

Steve laughed as you spun around and touched Bucky’s face.  

“I’m excited to spend time with you today, but my favorite is always when we’re all together.”  You leaned back as Bucky gently kissed your forehead.  

“Us too.” Steve kissed the top of your head. “Tomorrow is Saturday, the three of us will have all weekend together.”

“You two spoil me.”  You glanced back at Steve.  

“You deserve it.” Bucky dropped your waist and took your hand in his, leading you towards the elevator.

“Hey Buck, remember to watch the clock.” Steve crossed his arms.

Your eyebrow went up as you looked back towards Bucky.  

“Aye aye Captain!” The dark haired Alpha smiled at you as the elevator opened up.  

The two of you stepped inside, waving goodbye at Steve who blew a kiss as the doors shut.  

“I missed you yesterday.” You turned towards Bucky and put your hands over his shoulders.  

“Not as much as I missed you.” His hands ran down your back as he pulled you in for a kiss.

Your tongues rolled against each other’s as the elevator started to rise. Bucky gave an appreciative moan and you deepened the kiss.  

“If you keep this up Doll, we’ll end up skipping your surprise and spending the entire day in bed.”  He placed a light kiss on your lips.

The idea was appealing, but you winced a little.

“What’s wrong?”  His blue eyes flashed with concern. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” You nodded.

“Tell me the truth.”  His grip on you hardened.  

“Just a little sore.” You gave a nervous smile. “Steve and I may have overdone it.”

His features relaxed and you were glad to see his pupils returned to normal size.

“I think I have just the day planned for you then.” He moved to the side and slid his arm around your shoulder.  

“I love it that there’s no jealousy.” You leaned your head against his chest. “I feel the exact same about both of my Alphas.”

“We know Doll.”  Bucky kissed the top of your head. “Having you, it’s a blessing. You’ve brought Steve and I together in ways I don’t even think you understand.”

“Mmmm.” You let out a feeling of satisfaction as you rested on Bucky. “I’m the luckiest Omega in the world.”

The elevator dinged open and Bucky led you out.  You expected to enter the same strange virtual room as yesterday, but instead the doors opened to a soft lit reception area.  

“Normally this place has some staff, but today we have it all to ourselves.”  Bucky grinned as he walked into the beige room.  

A woman appeared right in front of you out of the blue.  She had on white scrubs and bowed in front of you.

“Mr. Barnes, Ms. Y/L/N. I’ve been expecting you.”  She stared in between the two of you. “My name is Marsha.  If the two of you will follow me?”

“Hologram?” You looked at Bucky.

“I am one of Mr. Stark’s many A.I.s.” Marsha didn’t turn around as she started walking. “You will meet several of us today, and some robotic models as well, although they will not resemble the human form.  Mr. Stark found that offputting.”

“Impressive.” You let out a giggle.

“This is funny?” Bucky smiled.

“I love science, but I was always more on the biology side, less engineering and robotics.”  You walked behind the desk and down a hallway. “This technology, it’s crazy.”

“When I was growing up having a radio was a big deal.” Bucky shook his head. “This, makes no sense to me.”

“You will find your robes in this room.” Marsha stopped. “Please change and meet me back here for your first appointment.”

“Bucky…is this a spa?” You’d never been to one before, real or holographic.

“Tony’s personal retreat.”  Bucky opened the door. “We’re starting off the day with a deep tissue massage, then some hot rock thing, I think there’s a mud treatment in there. Manicure, pedicure. A bunch of other stuff that I can’t remember.  Marsha has it all planned out.”

You followed him into the room and as soon as he shut the door you jumped on him.  He almost stumbled as he picked you up.  Your mouth pressed against his and you kissed him with the same passion you were feeling in your heart.  Nobody in your entire life had ever pampered you this way.  James hesitated to kiss you back, but then let out a low growl and lifted you higher in the air, supporting you by your ass.  

The kiss deepened and you felt a tingle grow between your legs.  It wasn’t because of his saliva, it was because of his actions.  You had no doubt about that.  Even though he didn’t say the words you never felt so loved in your entire life.  You had to tell him.  It was eating away at you.  The kiss broke and both of you were breathing heavy, his erection pressing against you.  

“I know.” James’ chest went up and down. “You’re sore.  It’s okay.”

“No.” You shook your head. “I…I…”

You looked deep into his eyes.  The word was on the tip of your tongue.  Yesterday you almost professed your love to Steve, but chickened out.  It didn’t feel right saying it to one without the other.  Plus, neither had used the L word yet.  James looked at you as if he was staring at your soul, the need of an Alpha on his face.

“I want to taste you.”  You licked your lips as you dropped to your knees.  

“Ah.”  James didn’t hesitate as he leaned against the wall.

He wore comfy pants and you did not hesitate to pull them down with his boxers.  His cock was harder than you expected.  You were surprised, but greedily wrapped your lips around it and started bobbing your head back and forth, taking more of him in with each movement.  

The sweet and salty goodness of his pre-cum touched your tongue and you let out a moan.  

“Doll.  That feels fantastic.”  James bit his fist as you looked up at him.  

A feeling of selfishness washed over you and you started swirling your tongue around his shaft.  Your poor Alpha went over twenty four hours without any release.  No wonder he was so aroused.  You brought a hand between his legs and started tugging on his balls, making another groan come from him.  The noise motivated you further and you brought your free hand to his base, spreading your spit for lubrication as you started to move your hand with your mouth, taking him as deep as you could.  

There was a slight gag, but you ignored it and swallowed more of him down, willing your throat to relax.  He brought the hand he was not biting on to the back of your head, not applying any pressure at all, just lightly massaging your hair making you moan.

“Fuuuuu…” He through his head back and you felt his cock spasm.

The glorious taste of his seed filled your mouth and you doubled your efforts, not wanting to lose a drop of his seed as it coated your throat and stomach, tasting more delicious than a five course meal.  You continued to slurp as you noticed his thighs twitch.  

That was a sign it was time to relax and you slowly pulled away, making sure your tongue gathered every bit of his white spray. Once he was all the way out of your mouth you placed a kiss on the tip of his dick and went back on your ankles.  You stared up at your Alpha with pride.  That was all you.  Only you could make him feel this amount of pleasure.  You licked your lips in satisfaction as he straightened up against the wall and looked down at you.

“You’re an Angel.” He held his hand out for you, which you readily excepted.  

When you were standing he brought his head towards yours.  His mouth went straight for your neck and started licking and sucking at where you should be claimed.  It sent a different wave of satisfaction down your spine.  Soon.  Your body knew the pills were almost completely gone.  Soon you would be claimed.  It brought a sense of peace.  

“I want to return the favor.”  Bucky grabbed the bottom of Steve’s shirt you were wearing.  

“You already have.”  You stopped him.

He looked up at you with confusion.  

“I can’t explain it, but I have this strange feeling.” You gave him a half smile. “I’m more Omega right now than I ever have been.  Pleasing my Alpha like this…it’s heavenly.”

Your half smile turned into a full grin and tears start forming at the corners of your eyes.  James opened his mouth to speak, but closes it right away.  Instead he pulled you against him and placed a kiss on your forehead before moving you so your head is against his chest.  There is a purr coming from him that vibrates to your core.  You feel pure happiness.

“We shouldn’t keep Marsha waiting.” He rubs your back. “I’m supposed to be the one spoiling you today.”  

James kisses the top of your head again and you back away, letting him get off the wall.  He hands you a robe.  You really were the luckiest girl alive.

~~~

The day was more perfect than you could have imagined.  Couples massage by robots and more beauty treatments than you thought possible, which Bucky gladly participated.  You were so relaxed you forgot about any problems in the past or possible future. When you stopped for lunch you hadn’t even realized you were hungry.  Bucky made you laugh like no other, and the time flew by.  

“I believe that is all you had scheduled.” Marsha spoke as a robot cleared away the plates of fruit and cheese. “Please enjoy the rest of your day Mr. Barnes and Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Thank you Marsha.” You let out a sigh of contentment, it was easy to forget she was a hologram.

“I hope you don’t think the day is done Doll.”  Bucky’s skin glowed as he winked at you from across the table.

“There’s more?” You were sure any more massages would result in sleep.  

“One last activity.” Bucky rose and waved for you to do the same.  

You stood up from the chair and took his hand as he led you further into the spa.  He turned down a hall and there was a pair of clear doors.  His eyes were glued to you as he pushed them open.  

When you made it through the doors you looked up in awe.  

“Is….is this real?” Your idea of reality had shifted the last few months.   “Yes.” Bucky studied your reaction. “None of this is a hologram.”

It looked like you had stepped into a rainforest. There was crystal clear water, about the size of an Olympic swimming pool, but there was no concrete.  The floor was covered in sand and a giant palm tree was at the end, with a waterfall flowing into the lagoon.  

Several cabanas were set up in the sand, your eyes continued to wonder to the stack of inflatable rafts and toys.

“Except the ceiling.” Bucky pointed up.

You took in the blue skies, partially covered by the tree tops.  

“It feels like I’m in the Bahamas.”  You curled your toes in the sand.  

“I knew you would love it.”  Bucky circled his arm around you. “I love seeing this look on your face.”  

“I love…it.”  You turned your attention back to Bucky. “Thank you.”

He walked you along the wall towards a door you wouldn’t have noticed.  The lagoon vanished and you were in a locker room, albeit the fanciest locker room you had even seen.  

“Tony has some rules though.”  He went to hooks on the wall. “No skinny dipping. No sexual activities, and you have to shower before entering.”  

Bucky handed you a bikini.  You looked at the black and silver material.  You used to love swimming, but the idea of wearing anything so skimpy in public turned you off.  Even a one piece speedo would show too much of you body before.  It made you cringe with everything you had given up to hide your makeup.  

“What’s wrong?” Bucky’s brow furrowed.

“I haven’t been swimming in a long time.” You reached out for the bikini. “I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

“Hey.” Bucky brushed the hair out of your eyes. “Don’t dwell on the past.  Look for the future. Change and we can get in there right away.”

“What about the clock?” You thought back to Steve’s warning.

“Plenty of time Doll.” He squeezed you tight. “I’ll never neglect you in that way again. I promise.”

You nodded, needing to give your Alpha full trust.  The robe slipped off of your shoulders and you started to dress as Bucky grabbed the pair of trunks off the wall.  You couldn’t wait to get in the water.

~~~

Once the two of you dipped in, there was no getting out.  Bucky had flung in a bunch of rafts and right now the two of you were laying on a giant swan, staring up at the fake sky.  Today was perfect.  You didn’t want to ruin it, but some questions were gnawing at you.

“I can tell something is bothering you Doll.”  Bucky’s fingers traced up your stomach.

You flipped over and brought your legs in the air.  There wasn’t the threat of the black pupils on his face, but genuine concern. You didn’t know where to start, but felt comfortable enough to bring it up.

“I feel more like an Omega today than I have in my entire life.” You parted your lips, unsure if he would respond. “When you kissed my neck earlier, I could feel it.  You and Steve can claim me soon.”

“Is that still what you want?” Bucky turned to his side.

“Yes.  But only both of you.” You had done enough research to know what it meant if only one of them could. “If only one of you could, I’d have to give up the other.  A bonded Omega can only be with her Alpha.  Both of you are my Alphas.”

“We’re working on it.” Bucky kissed your head. “I spent all day yesterday talking to experts.  Steve is following up today.  It’s going to happen.  Don’t worry.”  

You exhaled with relief. There were two sides to your neck, and two glands for claiming.  You hoped that meant there was a way.  

“Anything else on your mind?”  Bucky stroked your lower back.

“Have you been with an Omega before?” You didn’t want to dwell on the past, but it was the best lead in question you could think of.

“I have.” Bucky nodded. “Never claimed.”

Your heart raced at the answer, not expecting that.

“I was forced to participate in a lot of actions that I didn’t want to.” Bucky must have sensed your change. “Nothing like what we have Doll. I promise.”

“Was it a heat?” You rolled your lips between your teeth.

“Yes.” Bucky went stiff.  

“I’ve never had one before.” You wanted him to know this conversation was about you. “I’m a little scared.”

“No.”Bucky relaxed. “Don’t be. Steve and I will both be there to take care of you. I promise.”  

“The papers I’ve read. They say the first heat is nothing, but they get worse.  That’s why Omegas are normally mated by a younger age than I am.  What if…what if it comes on too strong?” A chill went down your spine.

“Maybe that’s why fate has two Alphas for you?” Bucky winked. “We were meant for each other.  All three of us.”

He leaned over and kissed you.  It was supposed to be a light kiss, but you reached behind his head and pulled him tight, parting your lips and pushing your tongue into his mouth.  He deepened the kiss and rolled you on to your side.  Everything felt so right.  You never felt more safe, loved, or protected in your entire being.

“You’re being quite the rule breaker today.” Bucky moved back. “Tony will never let us back in here again if we have sex in his lagoon.”

“I don’t care.” You yanked his head back to yours. “I need you Alpha.”  

Your hand pushed down his trunks as a growl escaped his lips.  James pushed you on to your back in the same movement as shoving down your bottoms.  You kicked them off your ankle as he climbed on top of you.  

With one solid movement he was all the way inside of you.  There was no soreness, only a sense of completeness as he rocked back and forth.  The sound of the waterfall almost deafening as your desire to focus on your Alpha grew.  

You ran your nails down his back and arched your hips to meet him.  An almost animalistic feeling came over you, forcing you to bring your teeth to his shoulder and bite down.  James growled in response.  His noise making more pleasure course through you. Life was perfect.  

[gotgifsandmusings]

the way you guys handled the racism part of the podcast was just. awful i couldnt even finish the rest of the podcast bc i was so offput. expected better from you :/

I’m so sorry to hear that, seriously.

I don’t want to hide behind excuses; if our tone or words were hurtful, that’s the way of it, and all I can do is apologize for it and learn why. It was not our intent, and as we said at the start of it, we’re more than open to a dialogue.

I’ve received positive and negative feedback for pretty much every portion of the podcast, however (it’s not like “oh yay, person X agrees so we’re fine!” or anything, of course), and I do think there’s some value in digging into that.

Julia and I tend to be more forgiving of Martin, not that we’re asking anyone else to be. And given the virulence with which we go after D&D, I understand how hypocritical this can come across as, and how frustrating this can be too. But the reason we are is basically two-fold:

One is that we believe there’s a value to his books. Now, there’s also a value to the political discussion on Bill Maher’s show, for example, but yet amazingly, decent political commentary shouldn’t come with a side-serving of Islamophobia. I don’t watch his show, so why should I accept and praise books that don’t handle race well? That don’t handle female sexuality that amazingly, particularly in the cause of wlw scenes? That oftentimes do feel like the sexual violence could be easily toned down, or it’s unnecessarily gendered, or it does fall into unfortunate patterns with things like dead mothers?

The answer to that ties into the second reason, which is that his pattern is getting better. FeastDance felt more thoughtful, felt like there was more of an emphasis on female and other marginalized voices, and it felt like there was great intentionality on Martin’s part to do so. I haven’t read all his interviews; I can’t guess at what’s in his head beyond what his body of work shows us. But you can bet that if he was coming across as someone who was unwilling to reflect and engage with his own shortcomings, I wouldn’t be as invested.

I could be wrong about him. I’ve said this a lot before, but I could be really, really wrong. For now, he has my benefit of the doubt. I’m not asking you to bestow yours.

Back to the problems at hand though, and the value of his books. No, they’re not perfect at all. There’s a lot of issues, and these are issues that a more intersectional author likely wouldn’t have. To be perfectly honest, I think we’re starting to have a tendency of expecting perfection in every area from our media now. While I love that we’re finally in a place where our cultural dialogue is pushing for the change we want, and that storytellers are actually listening (look at like, Clexacon’s mere existence, for instance), I think this can easily become a double edged sword, where you’ve got the fandom raising pitchforks about Steven Universe not doing well with butch representation.

ASOIAF is no SU. It’s a book series written by a white dude in his 60s that spans twenty years. Which is why Julia and I put so much stock into the pattern and direction the books seem to be headed, because our social dialogue shifts so much. Well, depressingly not as much as it should, but I think it’s hard to deny that there is far less tolerance for bullshit in our media, and far more expectations of representational media that are not just once again glorifying the white male lens. 

I don’t believe the book series simplistically does that at all. I find there to be feminist takeaways in Martin’s critique of the patriarchy, and in the way Martin holds up a lens to the bullshit assumptions by this society, which is one uncomfortably reflective of our own history (though certainly not highly accurately so). I wouldn’t say my willingness is to forgive the issues in the books, but more like say, “these are here, these are problems, but I still find this text valuable. I still find the close-POV different and worthwhile.”

I can’t speak for Julia, but I can at least say this is what we had hoped to convey in the podcast. I believe we failed spectacularly. I think our tendency not to plan or overly structure our episodes went heavily against us here. Everything we were saying was in a larger context of “and this is a problem,” but wow we really didn’t make that clear.

What we did was basically raise the problems in turn, talk about what we think his intent was and what its function in the story has been, and then conclude on “this could have been better,” which after you know…like ten minutes of what probably sounds like rationalizations was not exactly going to come across as particularly meaningful. Had we structured more, I think we could have been clearer about “and it did not land.”

Showing Dany as completely unable to comprehend the political situation she was in, and being over her head with the complexity, did *not* require a lack of Essosi POVs, even if we suspect that’s partially why Martin made that choice, for instance.

But of course that didn’t come across, especially when there were some downright flippant things said that we also didn’t clarify. Like Julia mentioning she didn’t want a Dothraki POV, probably because it’d be very close to one as distressingly violent and patriarchal as Vic, which is simply unpleasant to read (and I’m also not sure I agree; I would have loved Dany eating the heart from a POV of someone in the Dosh Khaleen, for instance).

We know each other well, and we know the intent and place we’re coming from when we’re saying something, so I think that led to us not explicating stuff that absolutely needed to be explicated. Again, there’s no excuse. I wish we had planned  and presented everything differently, and it seems pretty obvious now how badly we needed to do that. I’ve learned a lot just in the past day, and all I can do is try to be better.

However, I will say…I suspect there’s also going to be content disagreements in the conclusions Julia and I land on. I’ve seen this with the fandom dialogue about the issues of sexism in the books before, and we’ve often received criticism for defending how he writes the patriarchy and women. Or for how women in the past basically are these pure, idealized victims, or they’re forgotten. We believe that’s to a point most of the time, that being one that provides a fuller picture of Westeros’s bullshit patriarchy (unnammed Mama Martell as an exception because there’s no reason for that at all), but we know it’s a point that doesn’t land.

Then there’s stuff like Arianne’s ‘hypersexuality’, which I simply don’t agree with. In my view, and something Gretchen and I were just discussing, Cersei is far more sexualized (she just tends to view sex from a manipulative standpoint always, instead of deriving pleasure from it, Jaime aside which is clearly unhealthy), and the degree to which this is a problem for a Dornish POV to have these traits (which I think is played up in the fandom) is one where I part ways with a lot of people. I can’t answer how I’d feel about it if I weren’t white, so I do my best to acknowledge that lens whenever I can. But in general, from what I can tell, my lens is also just a bit less Doylist than where some land.

And that’s fine, too. We’re all just engaging with the books how we like to do, and taking from it what’s there for us. There’s no objective takeaways, and not to belabor the point, but I could be so wrong about these books.

Why am I all Doylist with D&D? Because Watsonian analysis is useless in GoT, sure, but because they’ve violated my trust and my benefit of the doubt so thoroughly. I’m not there with Martin, and maybe that’s a problem. I suspect I might even be too Watsonian for my own good because of how engaged I find myself with certain aspects. Half of why we recorded that podcast was to kind of slap ourselves in the face with some Doylist realities, but I do now think the tone ended up being too dismissive, and I don’t feel good about it.

Anyway, this is just a super long-winded apology, as well as a meek explanation I suppose. Certainly not an excuse. This episode was requested a lot for us, probably because of how defensive of the books we get, and I feel like in our attempt to talk every angle of the issue, we ended up just coming across as doubling down on that defense. Moving forward you can bet your ass I’m going to be far more cognizant of this.

What’s funny is, feeling defensive actually wasn’t my experience at all recording it. Hell, even just pulling your asks for it, I was like, “wow this all really sucks,” and found myself getting a good deal more nervous for TWOW coming out. Because…god…I think I might be wrong. I’m back in that place I was in during season 5 where I was wondering if Sansa was going to get raped by LF (obviously a different context than the show), or if we’re not supposed to see Tyrion’s misogyny.

I’m not ready to give up on Martin yet, but I’m sure as hell not asking anyone else to forgive him. And if nothing else, I know now that at least a few takeaways we had were certainly not his intent, but the result of our own engagement and projections onto the media. I think I might be wrong (and where’s TWOW).

[fairycosmos]

i feel like i don't know what the point is anymore. no one wants anything to do with me. i'm all alone. sometimes i feel too depressed to get out of bed or brush my teeth. i don't have any solid friends, i long for someone to love me. i have always longed for that. any advice?

i'm sorry to hear that you're going through such a rough time. ik it's not easy and yet you're still getting through it, so honestly give yourself some credit for that. i'm honestly in pretty much the exact same situation. it's totally natural and human to want to be loved and cared about, though it's also important to know that you can get that validation from yourself before you get it from anyone else. when you go through life fighting yourself, hating yourself, it makes everything that much harder. when you take every opportunity to be negative about yourself, you'll soon start to believe that it's all true even though it's not. and i'm not saying you have to wake up tomorrow and just instantly start liking yourself. no, it's a process. being kind and learning how to nurture yourself takes time, but if you're making the conscious effort to do that then other people will gravitate towards you bc they can tell that you're comfortable with who you are, or at least trying to be. it all starts w you.i know that when you're feeling so shitty it's hard to take words of advice seriously, i get that. the weight in your chest isn't going to just go away just bc you're reading this. but i hope you know that no matter how alone you feel, you never actually are. there's always someone to turn to, it doesn't have to be a friend. we all go through phases of being by ourselves and trying to find our place in the world. that's normal, even if it is a little disheartening. however it worries me that you don't see the point in things anymore, even tho i relate to that a lot. if you haven't already spoken to a doctor or a therapist, or even a family member about the way that you're feeling, i'd really urge you to do so. the idea itself is offputting and your brain is probably listing all of the reasons that talking to someone won't help, but that's just part of the depression and anxiety. it's really not that bad and your mental health should be taken just as seriously as your physical. it's important that you realize that are a lot more options than you think there are. even if you can't speak to a doctor, there's also mental health hotlines and organizations that can offer real support and guidance. there are people that want you to be okay and that will help you be okay if they know there's a problem. so meet them half way and when you feel ready, tell someone whats going on, okay? this is temporary and you're going to learn how to cope, all you need to do is take it one day at a time and make yourself and your mental state a top priority.i hope you're okay. please please hmu if you ever need someone to talk to, i'm always here. just breathe, you're going to be okay.

[lesbitchka]

(submission)

alright so i’m gonna dump my long long club story in here (cw for q slur stuff, some mentions of prior abuse, kink, drag) this is gonna be really long, i’m sorry! my way of narration is kind of obnoxious

i’m a copresident of my campus’ lgbt group after i was asked by someone in my class to run for office during my first semester at my current college. i’d never been to a meeting before, but i accepted, honored to have been invited. in retrospect, that kind of should have been my first red flag- being asked to step in in an administrative role to a club i had absolutely no familiarity with. i’m a white, autistic trans man who is on the aro/ace spec because of my history of trauma. this will be important later on 

i showed up to the election and was elected handily, because apparently the person i was running against has a history of being abusive? i don’t know anything about that. anyway, at the same meeting, the person who had held my position before me, a nonbinary trans woman, was ousted publically and stormed out of the room, furious. at the time, i wasn’t too bothered by it. this person had a history of posting weird, intimidating right-leaning stuff about “defending someone’s right to free speech all the way up until they act on it”- that includes threats to murder and rape people, in her own words- and mocking club members for mental health problems. all around, a legitimately abusive person that i totally understood why she’d be removed. and over the summer, that was that- no further discussion. 

i moved across the country to the la area to live with my longterm partner over the summer. during that time, we lived in a disadvantaged area that was primarily latinx, close to anaheim, where over the course of the summer we heard a lot of police violence come out of, both on the news and in word-of-mouth from our (primarily trans) friend group. despite being white, this left me worried about police violence towards me for other reasons; ie, i was an unmedicated trans man in a relationship with another unmedicated trans man, subject to different types of police violence should anything happen to our home, which we were sharing with a latinx family. while nothing became of these fears, this, also, will be important 

when i got back on campus, i took up my new position and started getting involved in club affairs. i noticed from a very early point there were some small issues, but nothing that was really a dealbreaker- the club had a strong focus on kink and many board members had a tendency to be very public about their sex lives in advertisements and tabling opportunities for our group, which, while i assumed i was being oversensitive about because of my trauma, i noticed offput several prospective members who investigated our table. when campus police swept through the club fair, equipped and in full uniform, i expressed my discomfort- a holdover from my time in a troubled area, hearing about my white trans male friend face obstruction and hostility when turning to the police in a domestic violence case, having been home for less than a week- and was met by the only nonwhite member of our board explaining that he didn’t feel uncomfortable with the police there, so it was kind of ridiculous that i did and i shouldn’t. which may have been true, but jesus, felt pretty shitty to hear my feelings on the thing were bad. i also requested that we not refer to ourselves as the q*eer club when hosting events and referring to my membership and was told by the same administrator that because he is latinx and likes the word, no one else should have any reason to take issue with it, b/c he was most strongly effected by pulse…? that was his reasoning for why we should keep using the q slur. again, a bunch of small things i could easily brush off, but things that stuck out 

things didn’t get really bad until this semester. over winter break, two things happened. the aforementioned nonwhite board member we had was hired by the school and is no longer legally allowed to be involved in any club’s board. also, i started dating a member of our club, a nonbinary transfeminine person (gonna call them bug for this post) who’s two years younger than me and getting their feet in school. i was feeling really awful after a week-long hospitalization early in the semester and having my longterm partner across the country; they were facing academic difficulties and poverty that will probably keep them from returning next semester, so it arose from mutual need and desire to support one another, with mutualistic understanding of the fact that our relationship is probably on a timeline. bug came into our school hoping to get involved in lgbt activism, so when we had elections after winter break, i encouraged them to try out. 

it’s also worth mentioning that bug was and is one of only three transfeminine club members who would regularly show up to meetings. the other two, who i’ll call mercury and simone, are both older than me; mercury was part of the board before i joined, and simone joined at the same time as bug, due to our awareness of our club’s appearance due to having something like 30 regular attendees and only three transfeminine ones; even now, simone is the only one who identifies as a trans woman, not nonbinary.my roommate, who i’ll call marcie, also joined at this time, becoming our only nonwhite board member. 

so, convergence of events: bug and i start dating, and bug, simone, and marcie all join this club. things are great at first! everyone loves each other, we’re all excited to be working with our friends. i’m overjoyed to have my roommate, one of my best friends, and my brand new datemate working with me on something i’m really passionate about. 

when we try to put together our first event of the semester, though, things go HELLA south. the new director of the board, the boyfriend of the guy i had a couple issues with at the beginning of the year, asks the board what kind of shirts we want for our event: tanks or tees. bug speaks up first, saying that they don’t want a tank because tanks show their shoulders too much and make them feel dysphoric. simone and mercury echo bug’s sentiments; i, knowing that our membership has had some issues with our lack of inclusion for transfemmes, decide to go with the transfemme voices on our board. this becomes the biggest controversy we’ve yet faced as a board. the director becomes enraged, talking about how tanks make him LESS dysphoric, how for our last event he got baseball shirts that make him dysphoric and that he hates (and that he also wears almost every time i see him, hm) so we should make a concession for him to get a shirt he likes. he tells us to vote; me, bug, simone, and mercury all vote for tanks, which means that we have the majority on our seven person board. the situation is now wholly out of control, the director gets angrier and says we’re getting tees anyway, marcie says something off hand about how it’s not a dysphoria contest, which makes bug feel like shit because they brought up the topic of their dysphoria first as a reason they personally wouldn’t wear the shirt if we bought it and then was countered by our director’s claims of how dysphoric tees would make him. simone says that this invalidation of her and bug’s lived experiences and the hostility they were met with for asking for a shirt with transfemmes in mind is transmisogynistic behaviour. remember that guy who got hired by the school? he steps in now to defend his boyfriend and shuts down the conversation (yeah, he’s still in our group chat, despite that being, y'know, illegal.) everyone is furious. more than a few people are brought to tears. 

pretty fucking dumb, right? over shirts. don’t worry, though, we’re heading into some even more ridiculous shit. 

the next time the board talks, it’s to say that we’re obviously all very upset with each other and we shouldn’t meet in an unmediated environment. (spoiler alert: what has come to be known as shirtgate was at the beginning of february and we JUST had a group meeting for the first time ever since that this sunday…) we hold our event successfully despite the fact that half the board isn’t talking to each other. i’m feeling hurt and isolated from my friends and withdraw a bit, spending more time with bug. the board is divided into two tiers: the wider board, and the presidents’ board, which i’m on, and which, coincidentally, is basically just our regular board without transfemmes. ha. the presidents’ board meets and discusses how unacceptable the situation is, attempting to appeal to me to change “sides” because those rowdy transfemmes, right? i’m grossed out and feeling like i’ve been isolated from the group of people i have a vested interest in supporting and stand my ground, officially marking myself as no longer one of the InGroupTM. for the most part, i do nothing as a club administrator from here on out. things are magically out of my hands. hm 

our next big controversy happens when we hold a screening for moonlight, about a week after it won best picture. this is a public event, and many people who are not in our club show up; i assume that all we are providing is advertisement and prepare to enjoy the movie. here’s where me being autistic comes in. the lounge is crowded with people and i’m surrounded by some of my favourite people, including bug, who’s off their adhd meds for now and doesn’t have a lot of impulse control. my friends respond audibly to some of the scenes, cos we’re a bunch of gay kids who’ve rarely-if-ever seen representation for ourselves before. due to being in a social setting where the people around me that i trust, esp bug, are being very emotional and responsive to the film, i can’t really not join in and make noises of excitement too- it’s just the way my aspie brain works, tbh. i feel awesome! this is great! 

it’s not great. the event ends and people are furious, complaining about how the movie was ruined by the talking during a handful of scenes. the board cracks down on me and bug (and, to a lesser extent, simone) for being vocally excited. in retrospect, fair, and definitely something that means i should stay away from crowds more often. however, this was an environment of friends, i thought, not people who’d get really upset with me for unintentionally making sounds of excitement when, for the second time ever, i see gay men represented in the context of a film. marcie is furious most of all, as our only non-white board member, and goes on a facebook rant, vagueing about not just bug, simone, and i, but about our friends and members who were not quiet either. me and bug’s close friend, who i’ll call mirage, is incredibly hurt by this, as marcie uses their non-whiteness to describe why they’re frustrated by this behaviour; mirage is a nonwhite nb kid who was most vocal during a scene in the movie where the protagonist hits a bully with a chair, making an audible joke about it, which they did because they found the scene triggering after they were hit with a chair by a teacher growing up. this was also the moment of conversation marcie had the biggest issue with. bug and i are feeling pretty shitty about our neurodivergences and how the club has previously made promises to be understanding of symptoms, but this seems to only extend to depression and anxiety. the club fractures further. 

we’re basically not talking to each other unless we have to at this point, with bug, simone, and i staying close, marcie, the director, his boyfriend, and their housemate making their own group, and mercury disengaging from all of us entirely. we hold an event. it’s called kink 102 and is the sequel to an event we had in first semester that i missed during my hospitalization, where apparently the director and his boyfriend demonstrated floggers and crops on each other in front of an audience who came to learn about kink, not expecting to be part of a scene. people are very apprehensive about this, especially because we have had several meetings focusing on kink and drag- our director’s passions- and none focusing on, for example, nonbinary people and aroace-spec people in the lgbt community. this becomes a huge point of contention, as several ace-spec people approach various board members and express their discomfort with how overwhelmingly sexual many of our meetings are and how our director seems so keen to involve strangers in his sex life- he has admitted rather freely to being both an exhibitionist and a voyeur. a student makes a public post about how we’ve had two meetings about kink and none about aroace lgbt people. bug steps in and comments a bit snarkily about how much they agree, having heard me, their ace-spec boyfriend, talk a lot about how i’ve been honestly triggered by some of our events; bug is very much not an ace person and is in fact an exhibitionist and voyeur themself, but thinks the issue is this important. i step in as well as a board member, feeling the need to address a public complaint, and reassure them that i would very much like to spearhead a meeting about aroace people, including the different ways it can manifest and how it isn’t equivalent to non-heterosexuality, as the only ace-spec board member. i admit to my discomfort at the environment we often create and say that it’s something we certainly need to work on. 

shit pops off in the chat, but only at bug! not at me! hmmmm!!!! 

bug stops talking in the group chat unless prompted at this point. 

the post goes mostly unresolved; all that happens is bug (and, later, simone, who posted a rather snide comment on the same forum expressing her frustrations with the group as a whole, both backing up me and bug, and as a trans woman who’s been repeatedly involved in drag events now) get CHEWED THE FUCK OUT. simone says something about how we have way too much focus on kink and it makes it seem like we’re saying it’s equivalent to being lgbt. the director loses his shit over this, and says, quote, “Thanks for invalidating my identity. I can’t discuss this further. Erasure of my culture.” which is… a lot, as someone who was abused in the guise of kink by older, paedophilic partners. 

i go to the kink meeting with bug because i want to learn how to tie them up safely and am hoping to learn about knots, but mostly because i feel like if i don’t go, i’ll get yelled at. there is no guide for tying knots. there is a brief discussion of consent, then the director ends up topless, getting whipped against the wall of the student lounge. a friend of mine sits next to me and sucks a fucking pacifier the whole time

we still haven’t met in person in months. this sunday, we finally meet. the director reveals he is resigning and also dropping out of college and tells us it’s mostly because of simone, which, wow, okay, is a lot to hear from someone who i spent hours counceling about whether or not he should go to the inpatient i went to and take a semester off first semester, before simone was ever even involved. the meeting is mostly just that. simone doesn’t come. we have a president’s meeting after, which basically equates to us staring awkwardly at bug until they leave and mercury retreating to their room, cos we hold this at the director and his boyfriend’s house. not weird and awkward, definitely doesn’t feel like we’re having a boys’ club meeting. nope. 

by this point i am distraught. i’m feeling like complete shit because all these people, despite their previous rounds of drama and weird comments, were my friends. i was so excited to work on something i cared about with people i cared about, and now no one even talks to each other. i confess my concerns about everything to the group, and shit gets wild. the director is quick to tell me that things aren’t my fault, but that his issue is with simone and bug. and then he starts getting really shitty. i had previously mentioned how eager i was to protect the incoming freshmen, because my first year of college, i was raped by a trans woman who proceeded to manipulate her way through the lgbt club on that campus to turn people against me and keep me from speaking out, which resulted in my utter academic failure and dropping out. the director begins to tell me that, in my personal goal of keeping freshmen safe, i have made bug entirely dependent on me, that the fact that they don’t talk to half the board anymore is on me, using words and phrases i used to describe my previous abuse to say that, hey, turns out you’re abusive. which… is fuckt, coming from the person who capslocks curse words in the group chat and then has his SCHOOL STAFF boyfriend come in to tell us how justified he is. the boyfriend tells me i never should have expected us to be friends. which i guess is true, but hey, i was introduced to the group by their roommate way back last year, and really didn’t know what to expect at all. i am also told that kink is easily as important as lgbt activism in our history, that it should be considered a part of the acronym, that all these young kids uncomfortable with two three-and-five-year-older people acting out scenes under our banner at our events need to learn their history. any second now i’m expecting our name, LGBTQU+, to grow a k. hilarious that they’re concerned about history now, but me asking us not to use the q slur to describe our members is ridiculous because no one’s bothered by it anymore! 

i meekly offer to step down, but the director says that because he’s leaving and his roommate is graduating, we won’t have a board anymore if i step down, considering bug and simone are ready to leave. the boyfriend and the director lecture me for like five solid minutes about how this is the oldest club on campus and if i don’t stay, it will collapse and that will be on me, basically. so yeah. accusing me of perpetrating the same abuse my ex perpetrated against me, then guilting me into staying to keep our club active- a club that is now reputed for being more focused on kink than lgbt events, for not being welcoming to nonwhite people or trans women (forgot to mention at one point students formed a qpoc group separate from us and the boyfriend was FURIOUS and tried to overtake it, using us, the board that was entirely white except for him :) ), and for being the biggest cesspit of drama on campus. in other words, a club i would very much like to l e a v e. 

i know this wasn’t entirely mogai hell or ace discourse, but there’s shades of every kind of shit in this group, tbh. and i really just needed a place to vent about it. i know we all made mistakes, but jesus, i’m hemorrhaging friends and feeling like dirt, my pals. i just need space to whine. 

oh one more thing, forgot to mention: the director tried to use bug to tell me to get a fetlife, because bug has one, because they’re not ace. also had bug ask me to pose with them naked for one of our event posters to circumvent me talking about how i felt unconfident naked, which thankfully never happened. also seem to think that because bug and i have sex i’m not ace anymore, therefore we shouldn’t talk about ace stuff because we don’t have an ace board member? didn’t know where to put these ones, but yeah! ;) 

ok! sorry for the length of this. thank you for listening! <3 

[muted-emotionn]

With Tired Souls (1)

[For a better read, listen to Sign of the Times (next door audio with rain and thunder)

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times.

Welcome to the final show,

Hope you're wearing your best clothes.

You can't bribe the door on your way

To the sky.

You look pretty good down here

But you ain't really good.

High school parties are supposed to be the peak of your teenage experience. The parties, falling in love with your sweetheart, finally getting to kiss that girl or boy you like, making friendships that'll last for a few minutes or a lifetime if you're lucky. Yes, sometimes not everyone gets to experience any of these; they regret it or are thankful. Some do, and they either regret it or cherish it. Everyone wants to have fun, to deny it or admit it, we all do. But what happens during or after or even before? What's going on with ourselves? Are we having fun to add onto the happiness or to escape from the sadness no one likes to talk about?

The music from inside of the large house blares and almost overpowers the soothing pouring rain happening outside. The ocassional thunder almost drowns out the passionate voice and the piano that compliments it. As Elizabeth sits outside beneath a tree that doesn't quite do her justice when it comes to keeping her at least semi-dry, she sighs deeply and keeps her eyes trained on her fingers as they trace the line patterns on her palm. She's been doing this for the last five minutes. All of the distractions she's indulged while inside, they follow her outside and prevent her from focusing on what's really important: her problem. To run away from them all of the time only makes the healing process a lot longer, but she chooses to ignore that thought as well. Dazed, tired, and a bit out of it due to the marijuana and excessive drinking, she almost falls asleep right then and there..at least until she catches a glimpse of a couple stumbling down the driveway to her left, holding each other, releasing fits of giggles they can't keep down. They seem happy and in love as the smaller girl trips back onto the trunk of a car, her boyfriend tripping into her arms, the pair gazing into each others eyes with goofy grins and lips eager and ready to meet again.

If we never learn, we been here before

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets?

We never learn, we been here before.

Why are we always stuck and running from

The bullets?

The bullets.

Elizabeth's face twists in disgust as she looks away, secretly envious of the couple, though hating them with every fiber of her being even if she didn't know them. Some insecurity, right? How the sight of a man and woman happy together can infuriate and damage her heart? Perhaps maybe because she's fallen truly and deeply for another girl who ended up with a boy, shattering her heart to unfixable pieces that now whenever she sees a couple like the one she's looking away from now, what's left of her heart aches to the point of exhaustion.

Just stop your crying

It's a sign of the times.

We gotta get away from here

We gotta get away from here

Just stop your crying, baby

It'll be alright.

They told me that the end is near

We gotta get away from here.

Shawn, a 17 year old jock, faces the bathroom mirror shirtless, inspects every inch of every body part. It's written all over his face--the opposite of approval. Wasn't big enough, packs weren't as obvious and toned, arms didn't quite compliment the rest of his figure, head and neck appearing slightly smaller than his chest and shoulders. He frowns at the voice of his father in his head--coach for the football team--reminding him he doesn't work hard enough, doesn't eat all the right meals at a time he's supposed to, or he eats too much sometimes and loses his ideal body. Reminding him of how he looked when he was younger and how it should be, stressing the skin care and comparing constantly with the other kids on the team. As captain, Shawn should be the big dog, right? The looks, the skill, the confidence, the ability to lead and not follow, the others looking up to him and picturing him as someone they aspire to be. The MAN. Though he doesn't feel like it. The starving and skipping meals to obtain the perfect shape and not gain weight, the doubt and pressure his father puts on him, he begins to anger himself. Shawn thought he wanted to be like his old man, now he isn't so sure. Obsession is an obligation to him. Worry is his number one sport. And right now, as his bushy eyebrows knit together to portray frustration, he reaches over to grab his jersey that rests in the sink, then rips off the velcro sitched with his surname, tossing it into the trash. He didn't like football much anyway. Art was more his thing. Unfortunately, it's looked down on in his family, which is why he stopped drawing and sculpting. "Too gay" his father would claim, "be a man, not a faggot" his words shook him inside. And everyone knew he lived to please him rather than himself.

He didn't realise all of the thinking struck one too many nerves, hence the tears streaming down his face. Why more emotional than ever? Was it the fact that he was drunk or was it the fact that he just reached his limit and couldn't continue with all of the weight on his shoulders anymore? Then he remembers that one irritating phrase branded into his brain since the first moment he's ever shown that he was hurt: man up.

Just stop your crying

Have the time of your life.

Breaking through the atmosphere

And things are pretty good from here.

Remember everything will be alright

We can meet again somewhere

Somewhere far away from here.

Maria, Nyah, Austin, and Liam all crowd around the kitchen table, in a light hearted conversation and away from the others passed out on the living room floor, slung over the couch, and a few others making out in a corner. The girls sat on the high stools while the boys leaned over the countertop, beer bottles in hand.

"Hey, guys?" Maria speaks up after a moment of silence. They all look at her. "Does this ever get tiring to you--the partying and hook ups?"

"Wow. This is coming from the life of all parties?" Austin chuckles. "Come on, Ria, you live for this stuff."

Maria scratches the back of her neck as she shy's away from the group. She reveals nervously, "Actually, I don't."

"What?" Nyah squints.

"I come to these things to escape my parents' constant arguing and putting me in the middle of them, and I stay home to escape getting caught up in the booze and the drugs," she curses herself for opening up for the first time in years, but telling by the understanding yet surprised looks on everyone's faces, she doesn't feel so scared.

"Wow. I had no idea," Austin breathes. "That's rough."

"So do you ever get tired?" she backtracks to her initial question.

"Honestly, no. It's all I got. My parents are never home so instead of being alone all the time, I have half of the school to make it almost impossible," Austin confesses before taking a swig from his bottle.

"I get tired," Liam chimes in. "Well..I mean..I get scared sometimes. What if something goes bad one day and I'm the one that doesn't get away? Like what happened last week with the stunt that Hansel pulled with me and the neighbours in the street. Everyone assumed it was me who set him off, and not his own issues with himself. I am a black man living in a country where my people are getting murdered for silly mistakes or for no reason at all. How could I not be?"

As the tension in the room thickens, the four look down or away from each other or continue drinking to ease the growing pain they all tried to keep down. Then Nyah reaches over to place her hand on Liam's.

"I understand where you're coming from. I felt what you felt that time, but I couldn't act on it. I could have said something to have your back but I didn't want to seem as the angry black woman again," says Nyah. Liam smiles sadly at her and nods.

"It's okay. We all struggle with some stereotype."

"Whore," Maria's hand shoots straight up and she finishes with an eyeroll.

"No you're not," Austin defends.

"Do you know how many boyfriends I went through all four years in this place? How many exposing because I couldn't trust the right guys, or how many rumours spread because of a ride home I had gotten when I drank too much? How many ti--"

Nyah cuts her off, "that does not make you a whore, Maria. I mean, so what you dated a lot, and so what you're comfortable with your sexuality and it's offputting and worthy of shaming to the majority? Fuck the rumours and the labels, you're a good person, and some silly degrading name doesn't change that."

Maria takes in every word from the other girl and embraces the depth and kindness to them. She expresses her gratitude with a warm hug, throwing her arms around Nyah who quickly reciprocates.

"Nyah's right," Liam says. "It's all bullshit anyway--high school, life. Life is so cruel more than it is nice."

"Depending on how you look at it," Austin adds.

"That's exactly how I look at it," agrees Maria.

They're all quiet again, taking in the heartfelt moment until Shawn rushes down the stairs, storming out of the home without saying a word.

"Wow. I've never actually seen him without a shirt before. That's a hot body," Maria says with a light laugh.

"Think he almost got laid and had a bad experience?" Liam snickers with an elbow jabbing lightly at Austin's rib.

"Who knows? I just hope he's doing alright, he hasn't been his usual self in a while."

"He's just struggling, with personal problems," clarifies Nyah with a shrug. She was closest to him and knew better not to go after him whenever he storms off like that. "Be easy on him."

We don't talk enough

We should open up

Before it's all too much.

Will we ever learn?

We've been here before

It's just what we know.

Stop your crying, baby

It's a sign of the times.

We gotta get away

We got to get away

We got to get away

We got to get away

We got to get away!

The rain pouring down hard as ever, Elizabeth is now coming face to face with everything she's been avoiding for months now, and yells. She yells to the sky as oppose to yelling at anyone in sight. She yells to the sky everything that hurts as it cries for her. It hits her all at once; the relief when she forces it all out. Nothing was her fault, and the resentment she begins to let go of doesn't bother staying. It never belonged to her anyway.

While she's releasing bottled up emotions, Shawn is exiting the house and goes straight to his car. Unlocking the door, he climbs in the drivers seat and slams the door shut, wasting no time in pulling out his phone. Tapping on his fathers name in the contact list, he brings the phone to his ear and waits impatiently as it rings.

"Shawn!" his voice roars into the phone. "Where are you? Are you alright?"

"No, dad. I haven't been for the longest. I hate playing the blame game, but it's entirely on you. Everything wrong with me lately, the emotional and mental abuse you put on me, it ends now. I'm quitting the team, I'm ignoring your criticism and judgements, I'm putting down the ball and I'm picking up the pencil. Not because I want to defy you and make you unhappy, but because I want to be happy for me," Shawn lets out all at once. He knew that the longer he'd wait, he'd end up saying nothing at all.

"What the hell are you talking about? I've done nothing but put my life on hold and set up a good one fit for you. One that I couldn't have because you came along too early, you ungrateful, insolent child! So don't you dare call me out on something I'm not guilty for, and don't ever put that all on me," he shouts into the phone. Shawn presses his lips together and nods, surprisingly unaffected by his words. "You should have listened better and followed my--"

"You asked me if I'm alright. Now I can say that I am and that you have no idea what you're talking about. It's about time you do some reflecting like I've done mine," he concludes after interrupting his father's words, and then hangs up before a response comes.

We got to

We got to get away

We got to

We got to get away

We got to

We got to get away.