#god took one look at me and said that man’s a homosexual- or- he knows em

[mirrren]

*at a pride parade*

“Man y’know what? I bet one of these motherfuckers gay”

[artificial-transmutations]

Two sides of the same coin - Early Morning

Kyle loved the early mornings. Not the eight o'clock early mornings or even the six o'clock mornings. No, the best time in the morning was much earlier, the time when the first gray of the morning turned into the sunrise over the waves of the ocean to the east. Although the sunrise over the waves was a spectacle and so beautiful that Kyle had made multiple paintings of it already, it was not the main reason he liked the early hours of the day best.

No, the reason for that was that there were no people around. Kyle didn't hate anyone per se, he just didn't like the company of people in general. Sadly, meeting other humans couldn't be avoided entirely, so these precious few hours of loneliness in the morning helped him to gather the strength he needed for a day full of unavoidable social interaction.

The beach was usually empty at this time, and the first visitors only came here later in the morning, so for a few hours, his usual spot on a rock was left in wonderful solitude.

Not so today. When he came here today, he was surprised to see another person already there, on his rock, a dark and alien silhouette against the gray morning.

Kyle frowned and turned around. His day was pretty much ruined already.

However, as he turned to leave, he heard the other man's voice:

"Hey, don't go."

The voice had a boyish charm to it, but it was clearly a man's voice. The words were surprisingly soft and gentle and didn't carry any force with them.

Despite that, or perhaps even because of it, Kyle stopped and turned around again.

The other man had stood up and walked a few steps in his direction but kept a respectful distance.

"Sorry for invading.", he smiled. "I'm Xavier, and I have noticed you around. They said I would find you out here in the early mornings."

Xavier's voice was gentle and calm, but surprisingly firm, the kind of voice that only people possess who are so very sure about their place in the world. It seemed to come from a position of utter certainty. Kyle found it quite attractive but was confused.

"Why would you be looking for me", he asked.

Xavier shrugged nonchalantly and smiled a warm smile. "Because you're extremely cute and I want to ask you out on a coffee. Oh, here, I even found this while waiting. Even though it probably fell out of your pocket, we could use it to pay for the coffee."

Kyle automatically took the shiny coin Xavier handed him. His head was swimming from the openness of the other guy. He rarely discussed his homosexuality and when he did, he felt so clumsy talking to other people that he quickly stopped. Not so Xavier. He didn't seem like the typical extrovert, but at least he was very sure of himself. Kyle didn't yet know if he liked that. Perhaps he would be even full of himself?

As he didn't answer, Xavier asked: "So, what do you say?"

"Oh, sorry." Kyle replied. Sometimes he didn't notice how long he was thinking internally. He was automatically searching for a good excuse why he couldn't go and played around with the coin, before pocketing it.

"I don't like coffee" was what he finally settled on. And normally, he would have ended the conversation with that, but for some reason he added: "But we can talk now, if you like."

"Sure thing." Xavier nodded enthusiastically. "We should sit down somewhere."

They sat side by side on the rock, facing the ocean and the sunrise. Both men were silent for a moment. Kyle was horrified. Why did he say that? Was he supposed to flirt now? He didn't even know how this worked. How did one make small talk with someone they wanted to date?

Xavier broke the silence. "So, tell me something about yourself."

"Well," Kyle began, trying to think of an interesting topic. "I'm Kyle." God, that sounded awkward. He needed to add some question to it. "And who are you?"

Xavier looked at him and chuckled. It wasn't a mean laugh, but a friendly one, but still Kyle felt deeply ashamed.

"You're not very good at this, are you?" Xavier asked in a friendly voice. "That's okay, it kind of makes you look even more cute."

"Let's try something else, okay? Don't tell me about yourself, at all. Instead, tell me about yourself as if you were the complete opposite of yourself, an entirely different person."

That was a funny idea, but for some reason, it really made things easier for Kyle.

"Okay. Well, in that case I... like to surf."

"Great, so you're a surfer. The whole package? Are you carefree and perhaps even a bit dim?" Xavier entertained the thought.

"Yes, you could say that! I'm really easy going and don't think about things too much at all!" Kyle felt his mood brighten considerably. "I'm also really loud usually and very outgoing", Kyle added, almost shouting to make sure he was being heard.

"Cool, I can see that going for you!" Xavier said. The situation felt a bit weird, like it began a certain way but then took a sharp and unexpected turn. He couldn't really tell why he felt that way, though.

"And it's also my language. To be honest, I'm really not that bright. So, I make my sentence short. And avoid long words. My favorite word is 'dude', though. What is your favorite word, dude?" Kyle had his usual happy grin on his face.

"I never thought about it, actually." Xavier responded. "But is it true that surfing gives you an amazing body?"

"You bet, dude! Check out those guns! And these abs!" Kyle pulled off his hoodie and flexed for the other man, not forgetting to show off the cobblestone road of abs of his. The sun had risen somewhat by now, so his fit body was kissed in the golden light of the morning.

"And I bet all the sun makes you really tan, huh?" Xavier found himself being drawn in by the surfer more and more. His body looked just so perfect.

"Yeah. Goes really well with my blond hair. It's all natural, dude!"

Kyle saw that Xavier was checking him out quite obviously now and leaned back with his arms behind his head to give him a good view, blowing some of his golden strands out of his face.

"It's all natural down there as well, dude!" he added as Xavier's gaze stopped at his more-impressive-by-the-minute bulge that tented his board shorts now.

"Sorry about that. I get hard very often, dude!" Kyle laughed, not embarrassed in the slightest.

Xavier didn't answer, but his eyes stuck to the clear dickprint in the front of Kyles board shorts and the perfect round ass on the other side, clearly visible against the wet fabric.

"Can you teach me how to surf?" Xavier asked, wishing nothing more than to have a body like that.

"Sure dude! Come on, let's get our toes wet!" With that, Kyle ran towards the ocean line, dragging the surprised Xavier behind him.

"Okay, first step: You need to get naked! Completely nude, dude!"

That seemed strange to Xavier, but he quickly complied. His dick was standing stiff to attention and yearned for actions.

As he had finished undressing, Kyle smiled. "Okay, now kiss me dude!"

"O..okay?" Xavier said but leaned up and gave Kyle a peck on the lips. As he wanted to draw away though, Kyle just pulled him into a deep, French kiss.

When they finished kissing, Xavier was rock hard. No, really, his whole skin felt hard and durable, and he found his body quickly getting impossibly thin. Before long, Xavier was nothing more than the colorful surfboard of Kyle, who looked at the object still with lust in his eyes and pants. Time to hit the waves! He didn't care he still had a raging erection - he was confident enough to flaunt it. And who knows, he might even get laid by some dude who watched him enjoy the early morning sun!

If you liked the idea of dudes finding together with objects in an unlikely pairing, you might also like the other stories of the same kind.

[httyddragonfox]

Proof of Sexuality

I've noticed something quite recently (I know, I'm an idiot), but to display someone's sexuality, you usually need some form of proof.

Let us look at two liberal displays of the LGBTQA+: Hellaverse and The Owl House.

To display that Luz was bisexual she displayed interest in both boys and girls, Eda talked about ex-boyfriends and has an old flame in a trans/non-binary person. Other than that we have word of god for the unclear stuff.

In Hellaverse (Hazbin hotel and Helluva boss) we have Moxxie who is married to a woman and has an ex-boyfriend, Blitz is interested in both Moxxie and Millie, having sexual relationships with a man, a childhood guy friend he had a crush on, and an ex-girlfriend. Someone in Hazbin declared Alastor as Ace and he has no interest in sexual relations, and Charlie is a relationship with Vaggie as well as the fact she has an ex-boyfriend.

Why haven't I mentioned Amity and Angeldust, it's because they're freaking obvious. The proof of homosexuals is just not showing interest in the other gender.

When it comes to hetero or homo-sexuals, the identity can be seen very early: Straight is pretty normal and Homosexuals only get crushes on their gender.

When it comes to all the other sexualities that identity gets identified in the teenage and early adult years. Here are a few personal examples:

Asexuality is a distinct lack of proof of striaghtness: For me, it was not understanding the whole sexual feelings thing, and then realizing normal people actually have that. That I discovered in early university.

For Bi-sexuality or Pan-sexuality (very similar) you need proof of liking the other gender or more than one: My friend discovered she was Bi after high-school. I asked her how she knew (She was dating a man who she eventually married, she dated boys in the past), technically I asked her if she was attracted to any girls. She said she found one girl attractive, so I took her word for it.

A classmate I knew of complained on how she wasn't allowed to be gay, but she ended up having a baby and dating guys. I think maybe she didn't know bi was a thing.

As for my grey romanticism: I've had only a few (three) genuine crushes in my life whilst my sister had enough crushes to count with two hands.

In fiction: homosexuals are obvious (only interest in one gender), bisexuals need proof (attraction or exes), other than that you're straight.

Asexuals are hard to label, usually it requires Word of God. Lillith is Aroace, because she never gets a partner and Dana said so, but without Word of God, we don't know she's ace, she might just be married to her work. Alastor is AroAce according to Word of God. Before episode seven of Hazbin Hotel that's all we had, and his distinct lack of sexual interest. That didn't stop the shippers who said, "he might not like sex, but romance isn't off the table." Those who didn't hear word of god must be thinking, "He might not like sex, but he'll do it with the one he loves." In episode seven, Rosie specifically calls him an "Ace in the hole," joking about a relationship with Charlie. So that would mean that sex and romance are off the table, but "she just said ace, not Aro." Word of God, you can't stop the shippers.

Another Word of God instance is Hunter and Willow's sexulaities ("Hunter is Bi and Willow is Pan"). Hunter has only liked one person in his life, and that's Willow, we don't have proof on screen that he had interest in other genders. Willow ever only showed interest in Hunter in the show (Maybe Luz, that's up for debate). People are upset that there is no proof of their Word of God sexualities in the show, because it looks like a straight ship and Dana's placating. Meanwhile, some people are happy with the LGBTQA ship that looks straight because those exist. Others wish to ship their homo ships, others wish to ship Lunter (even though when they met she already had interest in Amity), and other people complain that Huntlow is forced together just to have a straight ship and pair the spares and all their other complaints.

Without the proof of Hunter and Willow liking other genders, they might as well be straight, and that makes people upset. Fanfic writers try to remedy this by writing instances where they realize they like more than one gender, but that just goes to show...

In order to identify as this sexuality, you need the proof of liking what they dictate, or people won't believe the claims.

[prettyboypistol]

Across Enemy Lines || TF2 Sniper/Spy 18+

[BDSM] [D/S relationship] [Powerbottom Spy/Needy Top Sniper] [Cigarette Play] [Pain Play] [brief knife play]

Sniper’s hands shook as he reached towards the door handle. He knew it was unlocked. Spy said it would be, as long as he was quiet in the late hours of the night. Mick swallowed a building of nerves as he finally opened the door.

“I assume you were interested then?” Spy murmured from his chair, whiskey in one hand and a fancy cigarette worth more than Sniper’s camper in the other. Sniper felt his teeth grit inside his mouth as he tried to step inside the smoking room and not trip over himself when he heard Spy’s voice.

Sniper nodded as he felt the sweat bead at his brow.

“If I may ask, why? Of course, as the only other homosexual-adjacent man in this damn warzone, I assume there is a level of desperation.” Spy questioned, his expression seemed far more out of smug curiosity- as if he already knew the answer. “I know you’re allowed out of the base fairly often for jobs, so why risk something so close?”

“I need you.”

The quick answer caught Spy off guard, but the poise was quickly recovered. “Oh? Why me? Mundy, I have stabbed you multiple times. Are you some sort of sick masochist?” Spy knew the sly usage of Sniper’s last name was a mild threat against the man, but he had to gauge the reaction of his potential hatefuck of the night. Sniper bit the inside of his cheek and refused to answer, which told Spy more than what he needed to know.

When Sniper cleared his throat and shifted his weight, Spy stood up and approached his daytime enemy. He thanked whatever god above that Sniper had the decency to shower before he came over and he did not have to turn away such an opportunity due to grime and grit. It even smelled as if he put on some sort of cologne, even if the price was evident in the scent.

“At least you put in effort.” Spy shrugged as he looked Sniper up and down. Still in his uniform, there were points docked for that. Although, Spy had to admit that, if he had the chance to dress the scraggly man up, he would heavily consider a shade similar to that red. “Did you prepare yourself?”

“Uh- yeah. Yeah . I did.” Sniper managed to say as a blush creeped up his neck and blossomed over his cheeks. “Did everything you asked me to.”

Spy paused for a moment, then rolled his eyes and handed his cigarette to Sniper. “Jesus, this is a hookup, not an interrogation.” He assured as he walked back to his plush seat, with a vague gestured hand to the other chair to the opposite of the intable, Spy spoke up again. “Sit down! Relax a bit. I’m not going to stab you tonight.”

The shuffle to the other seat was downright pathetic, but not pathetic enough for Spy to shove Sniper out the door where he came from. Spy had to admit, it was rather cute to see such a stoic and quiet guy as nervous as that! An unheard mumble caught Spy’s attention.

“Oui? Qu'est-ce que tu as dit?” //Yes? What did you say?//

A moment of silence passed, then Sniper spoke, his voice low and hushed.

“J-J'ai dit que je le souhaitais… S'il te plaît?” //I said I wanted it… please?//

The response in mis-pronounced but textbook correct French was a surprise to Spy, but a welcome one.

“Now, where did you learn that from, hmm?” The tone Spy held was painfully amused and a tad too smug for Sniper’s liking.

Sniper coughed and looked the other way as he took a drag of the cigarette.

“Uh, picked it up here and there for odd jobs. ‘M not fluent or anything… I’d call myself academically passable, but I dunno a word you usually say.”

“So you don’t know colloquial French?”

“Nope.”

Spy stood up and took his cigarette from Sniper to take a hit, he noted how Sniper’s eyes followed his every move as he breathed, the cigarette delicately between his lips.

“Tragically for you, I’m not interested in knifeplay tonight, you ruffian. Even if it’s on you.”

“That’s fine, yeah.”

“Any other kinks I should know about, bushman?”

Sniper fell silent. In the quiet, he bit his lower lip and stared at the pristine carpeted floor.

“If you’re not going to talk then-”

“I like bein’ submissive.”

“That’s more like it.” Spy smiled, a foxly mischief in his expression. “Now mon beau, I’m sure you like more than just that. If you don’t tell me, I can just order you to.”

Sniper felt this chest flutter, much like a violin string. Tight and taut, Spy’s voice was the bow that made his core vibrate in the most jittering of ways. He was excited. He was flighty. He needed more.

“You’re a spy, why don’t’cha read me like a book?” Sniper sassed, his usual personality back in full force. The denial was enough to irk Spy into knocking the hat off Sniper’s head and to grab Sniper by the hair.

“You listen here you son of a bitch, you will give me respect in this room. I invite you out of the goodwill of my heart and you will not take that for granted, is that clear?”

The speed at which Sniper’s pupils blew wide churned deep in Spy’s chest. The Aussie tried to nod, but whimpered at the pain of Spy’s tight grip in the roots of his hair.

“Yea- Yes sir.” Sniper quickly corrected himself as his eyes frantically tried to drink in all of Spy. The indignant look of disgust, the perfect fabric that hugged Spy in a way that only good money could buy, the way Spy breathed that cigarette that cost more than Sniper’s life as if it were second nature. The huffs of his breath were ragged, low, and gently vibrating in Sniper’s throat.

“Now, I believe I asked you a question, boy.”

“I like bein’ tied up sir.”

“What else?”

“Bein’ talked down to. Pushed around. A bit of bullying, sir.”

“And a masochist too? Really, no wonder you came to me. At least you learn quickly.” Spy halfheartedly praised as he seemed unimpressed.

Spy released Sniper and laid down calmly on the bed. “If you can manage to keep yourself from wetting your pants from excitement, strip.”

The way Sniper stumbled and frantically tried to pop off his shoes and undo all the buttons of his shirt. His breath fluttered like a tight vibrato; light, quick, and dizzying. The scars piqued Spy’s interest briefly but his eyes quickly swam away to watch the smoke patterns as he exhaled. Although, the calm stillness of Spy and the sloshing rapid of Sniper was quite the duality.

“I didn’t say to keep the undergarments.”

“Sorry- uh, sir.”

Spy seemed pleased with how Sniper obeyed so quick. Yes, a bit of brat taming was fun, but not tonight. The swirling of arousal mixed itself in Spy’s body as Sniper stood in front of Spy, already well over half-mast.

“Sir, can I?” Sniper asked, his tone a beg as he looked at Spy like a starving man. “Please?”

“Come along now, bring the condom too.”

Sniper approached the bed as if he was a sinner on holy ground. Reverently, he moved to sit upon the side of the bed and awaited further instruction.

“Take off my shoes and undo my pants, if you can resist the temptation.” Spy ordered flippantly as he took another breath from his cigarette.The dripping of building lust was far from intoxicating to Spy, but as he watched his favorite daytime enemy delicately undo the laced shoes with more grace than he had ever seen Sniper portray, Spy couldn’t help but allow himself to feel whirls of pride and egotism.

“What do you want, mon beau?”

“Whatever you want to give me.”

“Tell me.”

“Hurt me. Please.”

A slap rang out when Spy struck Sniper’s cheek, leather hit soft skin. The gasping shudder that Sniper breathed out as the pain bubbled up from the initial hit rippled through his body as Spy repeated the gesture on the opposite cheek.

Spy leaned closer to Sniper and bit into his shoulder, once, twice-! Sniper let out a small whimper of pain as Spy sucked a hickey into him.

“Say ‘June’ if I go too far.” Spy mumbled into Sniper’s ear, clearly and honestly.

“Right, gotcha.” Sniper responded, his needy air dissipated momentarily to assure to Spy that he was in a right state of mind.

As Spy pulled back, he adjusted the aviators on Sniper’s face, an unamused expression fell to him. “Ah, did you forget these?”

“Sorry sir, lemme-”

“No no, keep them.”

The seconds of slow movements felt like hours to the flutteringly impatient Sniper. His heart raced a million miles an hour, his breath was desperate to give his body enough oxygen to function. The thrumming need of ecstasy of merely being treated in such a way played Sniper, and with Spy behind the bow, Sniper knew Spy would play him like a violin too.

“What?” Spy hummed after he barely caught what Sniper said. “Really now, we need to work on that mumbling problem of yours.” He said before he struck Sniper’s face again. “Speak properly.”

“Please hurt me more, sir.”

Spy rolled his eyes. “Isn’t this enough, you masochist? Getting your face beaten, naked in front of your enemy?”

Sniper shivered in pleasure.

“God, you like being talked down to, I forgot. I could ignore you right now and you could get off, couldn’t you?” Spy cooed, no trace of affection in his eyes. Sniper bit his lower lip, with every word Sniper’s erection seemed more and more interested. “Fucking pathetic.”

“Sir please-”

“You are in no position to be asking anything of me, needy whore.”

Spy grabbed his butterfly knife from the nightstand and pressed the blade against Sniper’s neck, the pressure agonizingly not enough. “Would you get off to this too, bushman? Who am I kidding, you would stain my suit if I pressed any harder.”

“Yes sir, I’m sorry sir.” Sniper whimpered. Spy retracted the knife with his usual flair before the knife was placed back on the nightstand.

“Put the condom on, I already did the preparation. I don’t know where your hands have been.” Spy ordered, to which Sniper hurriedly obeyed.

Sniper opened up the condom swiftly, eager to please. God, that smug smile on Spy’s face made Sniper’s blood boil usually. Tonight though, the smile was a promise, a whispering of sadistic pleasure that Sniper could find nowhere else. Sniper’s cock ached, begging in its own right to have any sort of friction. Upon Spy’s denial, Sniper frowned as he was forced to wait slowly.

“Oh, another thing. If you get soft or cum, I’ll kick you out immediately.” Spy threatened as he sucked the smoke into his lungs from his cigarette. A moment passed, where Sniper’s eyes met Spy’s.

Then Spy exhaled. Right in Sniper’s face.

Sniper bit his lip and whimpered. The smoke even smelled fancy, goddamnit. Sniper breathed the smoke in, his pupils were blown in maddening lust.

“Oh god, how’d you know?”

“You seemed the type. Now go on, try your best.”

Sniper took no haste to push into Spy in one held breath, he breathed out a low, long “fuuuuck.” as he felt the warm tightness around him. It took everything within Spy not to react. Sniper wanted to be humiliated, so he had to play the part, cock shoved in him be damned.

“You know, you can put more than the tip in. You might be a patient man, but I’m not.” Spy spat as he feigned more interest in his smoke than Sniper.

“It’s… It’s all the way in.” Sniper whispered.

“Really? I couldn’t tell.”

Spy could absolutely tell. Sniper was a decent size and certainly abused the fact that he prepared himself liberally with how tight Spy was stretched. With a twitch that nearly made him gasp as he berated Sniper, Spy rolled his eyes as he tried his hardest to ignore the swirling pleasure that sang like a siren to indulge in like an irresistible wine.

A shaky breath passed before Sniper started to move. God, Spy was tight. Little movements of Sniper, his hips flush against Spy’s thighs nearly broke the already delicate facade Spy held. Nevertheless, the mask stayed on, cold and disinterested as Sniper started to move, biting his lip to muffle the noises of embarrassment. The thrusts soon turned erratic, chasing the high of lust as Sniper groaned and growled as his dick was more than lavished in spoiled pleasure.

“Spy- I-”

A harsh slap to Sniper’s cheek reminded him of Spy’s position over the desperate man.

“Sir, please- I-”

“What could you possibly want, whore?”

Sniper bit his lower lip and screwed his eyes shut, nodding in agreement. A silent beg.

“Cheap, pathetic slut.” Spy purred as he puffed on his cigarette, the ash flaking onto the mattress in specks as Sniper’s thrusts jostled Spy. “How much of a whore do you have to be to come crawling to the enemy team, hmm? Did nobody want to fuck the piss-stained bushman over in RED?”

“Oh god. ”

“What other disgusting kinks do you hide behind that bullshit professionalism? Go on.” Spy demanded, his voice quivering slightly as Sniper brushed against his prostate just right. “Just know that if you say piss I will stab you.”

“No- don’t gotta piss kink-” Sniper stumbled out. “I’ve got a thing for- for suits, sir. I like smellin’ things too.”

Sniper was unceremoniously shoved into Spy’s shoulder, the order was clear enough as Sniper breathed the smell of too-expensive cologne and whiskey. The cigarette smell was a given, but the hints of quality mixed in with the tobacco made Sniper whimper as he used the new position to thrust deeper into Spy.

“Needy whore, I should put you on display, show everyone just how unfit you are to be a mercenary. You already are messy and dirty, imagine how fast you’ll be exposed for fraternizing with the enemy, begging him to demean you no less. Filthy fucking pervert.”

“Sir- I’m not gonna-” Sniper begged as he let his hips shake in uncontrollable desire. “Can I? I wanna ask something.”

“Oh? And what do you want?”

“C-can you put your cig out on the base? God, I’m not gonna last long- please? Please sir, I know it’s fucked up but I wanna be burned by you.”

Spy hummed, thinking tentatively as Sniper haphazardly pumped his cock in and out of Spy, only to pull out, presenting himself to Spy with a breathy wheeze as he jacked himself off, one hand on the headboard above Spy’s head, the other working himself to the teetering edge.

“Please sir, please put your cig out on me.” Sniper whispered.

Who was Spy to not oblige?

The white hot feeling of pubic hair burning, skin screaming in pain, and nerves firing danger signals sent Sniper over the edge with a low growl. The cum that spilled over Spy’s suit stood out horribly well, the off-white glistening against the deep blue. Shaky breaths echoed around Spy’s room for moments that lasted far too long for the rogue’s liking.

“You got your pleasure, now get out of my room. I’m sure you don’t want security to find a RED in such a secure location.” Spy ordered as he hurriedly dabbed the semen stains with his handkerchief.

Sniper nodded with a quick and casual thanks, legs shaking more than they ever should for a grown man as he gathered his clothes to quickly dress and depart.

As soon as the door shut, Spy bit the inner side of his cheek and used the same cloth to jack himself off- god, he deserved an acting award for keeping himself together during that fuck! Sniper was brutal and needy- Spy had never felt more desired! Rocking his hips to the same erratic beats, Spy gasped as his semen mixed with Sniper’s.

Spy was definitely paying Sniper a visit later that week. He wanted to make that stupidly cramped van shake.

[onippep]

Is it fine to talk about certain scars now?

................. Which ones. Guessing, for thematic sake, you mean these?

[gestures to his top scars]

I, uh, guess so. Pfft.

So, a little recap-- born in Italy, moved over here when I was 16. Shit happened at 19. Came back when I was 24.

[TW FOR MENTIONS OF CHILD ABUSE, WAR, GENERAL UNPLEASANT QUEER EXPERIENCE STUFF, TRANSPHOBIA + HOMOPHOBIA]

We lived in a super-rural area when I was a kid, so I had no idea what all of that was about. I'd find myself doing things that boys would do and I'd get slapped around for it, or never really liking girls. All my friends were boys. I had a lot of body hair for my age. It was weird to my family.

I got a taste of big-town culture from my cousins and uncles and aunts; they're eccentric, and I'm pretty sure one of my aunts was gay (she never married). I got along with her pretty well, but god, my madre hated her, pretty sure. Haven't seen her in a long time.

Bottom line, I was the "weird kid" of the family, so my parents figured (Also as Italians) to give me a brother and sister, see if they could socialize me properly. Maybe they fucked up the first time. Worth a shot, right?

While my madre was pregnant with my brother, we moved here. Maybe city life would do me good. I was thrust into a highschool barely knowing any English, and naturally flocked to the outcasts and socially awkward weirdos that would get tossed around by bullies and such. It was brutal. I met a girl that disguised herself as a boy and went by a boy's name. I met a boy that had a crush on one of the bigger boys of the school. It was a bunch of new experiences that... for some reason, even with my upbringing, didn't feel foreign or weird. It suddenly aligned with me, and I didn't really think about it until I looked in the mirror one day and wanted to throw up at how I looked. I tried dating a girl I got along with. Being a teenager sucks. That shit hits you like a truck and bleeds like an open wound that you have no idea how to stop.

Not that I had the time to find a way. I did bad in school, got held back a few years, and within that time aggressively took my identity into my own hands-- I'm not who my parents thought I was, I hated my name, I hated them, I hated everything. I got quiet. I hated myself because I wasn't the easy, good-grade getting child that was born loving the body it was in.

One day, my dad gets me alone. He asked me what I wanted to do after High School. I said art. He asked me again. I said art. He said that was the wrong answer. I asked him what he wanted me to say instead.

"If you really don't believe you're a girl, then it's time to be a man."

I thought this had good intentions until I was at the front door of bootcamp with some fresh scars on my chest, a few years of testosterone, and...

[sighs]

...

Uh, what was I-- right.

Right, yeah, I was pretty much fully out a few years after I was... discharged. I had a fling with Anton. A few women. Some men. Tried the bisexual label for a bit but found out I was just a full-on homosexual.

...Did I get the surgery before or-- no, I think I...

[blanks out for a few minutes]

...[scratches his head] I-- sorry, I think I got something mixed up. I think I got top surgery after 'all of that'. Shit's scrambled in here.

...

...Right-- I was a fully out transsexual gay man by... I think I was 35? It wasn't a huge focus of mine though since I wanted to try and start my own business. My family knew hard they fucked up with me so they kept their distance-- I let them know how much they failed me (after many years of thinking I was the screwup). Eventually they started using my new name. It was sudden, and there were no apologies.

I couldn't get my art degree, sssooo... Peppino's Pizza it is. Yippee.

Met Gus a year or so after I opened it, connected with a few of the Italian community on the outskirts of the city, uh... then I...

[pauses again]

--Sorry, this, uh, wasn't a really happy story, but I just. Wanted to say that it was worth keeping myself alive to see myself big, fat, hairy, balding, and smiling in the body I've got now. And happy with the men I've decided to let into my life to love me and this body. It's...

It's something. Better than nothing. I understand that now.

[the-poetic-mothman]

Is This Really Okay

TW:

Mention of sex, internalized homophobia, panic attack

AN: this is my fic. i post mainly on AO3 but i decided to put this here. i personally headcannon Graves as Catholic, and this happens in the universe where he doesn’t betray Los Vaqueros and TF141. and before anyone says anything: yes i know all catholics are homophobic, Graves is the southern breed.

AO3 link

Phillip felt himself wake up with a pounding headache, and his ass and upper legs hurting, he didn’t bother to open his eyes because the hangover would most likely get worse. He heard someone breathing next to him, it wasn’t like in a dorm or hotel when he had to share a room with someone else. Phillip was almost immediately on guard.

That was until he realized the scent of whomever was next to him was familiar. They smelled of cigars, whiskey, and cheap cologne. It was the Captain of one of General Shepherd’s task forces, the 141, John Price.

Memories of the night before flooded back. Him and Price had had drunken sex? Phillip felt like he had been hit by a truck. He was Catholic, and a good one. He had known since he was young that homosexuality was a sin and if he ever indulged in the urges he had felt for years, he would go to Hell. He started to shake and his heart seemed to be pounding out of his chest. He was going to go to Hell. It felt like he couldn’t breathe because someone was smothering him. He clutched the rosary around his neck and tried his best to clear his head enough to pray.

“Graves?” A familiar voice broke through his panic, “Graves! Look at me.”

Phillip couldn’t. He was going to go to Hell because he indulged his homosexual urges. He was going to Hell. He was going to Hell. He was—

“Phillip.” Price was sitting on his lap and holding Phillip’s hands away from his face. Phillip met his eyes, they were filled with nothing but kindness. He put one of Phillip’s hands flat on his chest. “Breathe with me Phil.”

Phillip could feel his heart beating, it was calm. He took a deep breath and Phillip mimicked him. After a few minutes, Phillip’s panic attack was over, he felt drained.

“There you go,” Price said as he got off of Phillip’s lap. “Do you want to talk about why you just had a panic attack, Phillip?”

“I’m going to go to Hell…” Phillip’s voice lacked all of the confidence it normally was full of and it was all wobbly.

“Why do you say that?” Price asked as he picked up Phillip’s clothes from the night before from where they littered the ground.

“Because being gay and acting on your feelings is a sin.” He replied.

“I knew a guy who believed that as well,” He sat down by Phillip’s feet and put his hand on his shin, “He’s happily dating another man now.”

“But—” Phillip started to argue, but Price raised a hand.

“Phillip, you aren’t going to go to hell for sleeping with a man one time.” He said, “If you aren’t gay I understand and I’m sorry for taking advantage of you in our drunken states.”

“I am gay but I have to marry a woman you don’t understand Price!” He shot back.

“You don’t.” Price countered, “You don’t have to marry a woman if that isn’t what you want. This is your life, and from my experience as an ex-Christian, God shouldn’t give a shit about who you like because he doesn’t make mistakes.”

“What?” Phillip asked.

“Your God doesn’t make mistakes, and if you believe that he made you and he made the mistake of placing feelings for men in you,” He paused as if to get the right words, “Then I disagree, He made roughly twenty percent of the world fall into the LGBTQ+ category.”

Phillip couldn’t think of anything to counter this point. He pulled his knees into his chest, everything he had been raised to believe was wrong. He looked at all of the thin scars on his wrists from himself cutting himself whenever he had feelings for a man that was anything other than brotherly. He was spiraling while questioning everything he knew about himself when he felt a gentle touch on his cheek, it was calloused but it was still sweet enough.

“Come back to me Phillip,” It was Price, he had a cup of warm tea in his hand, “Do you have a hangover or pain in your lower regions?”

“Yeah,” He said, his voice was hoarse, more than he thought it should be, “Both.”

“That’s normal for what happened last night,” Price said as he handed him the cup of tea, then he opened a bottle of ibuprofen, it was half empty.

“Thanks,” Phillip shook out two pills and took them with the warm Earl Grey tea Price had brought him.

“I’m going to go take a shower, your clothes are in the washing machine,” He stood up, “I don’t have anything that would fit you so I assumed you’d want your clothes to be clean before you wear them again.”

Phillip just nodded, he felt his heart skip a beat as he realized that he was falling head over heels for Price. It wasn’t just from the sex the night before, but from how he actually was taking care of Phillip, and taking things into consideration. Hell, the man even pulled Phillip from a panic attack and from spiraling. If Phillip was going to go to hell for being gay, he wanted it to be for John Price.

He grabbed his phone and saw there were multiple texts, most from the Shadow Company group chat, and a few from his second in command, Emma Miller, was trying to figure out where he had gone the night before.

EMMA: Boss where are you?

EMMA: Hello?

EMMA: You’re almost always awake by now so are you just not using your phone due to a hangover?

EMMA: Just text me when you see this, the 141 soldiers are curious if you know where Price is.

PHILLIP: Captain Price*

PHILLIP: And yeah IK where he is

PHILLIP: He’s fine, that’s all they need to know for RN.

EMMA: But where are you? You didn’t come back to base last night after you disappeared.

PHILLIP: I’m safe where I am. I’ll be back soon.

EMMA: Fine.

Phillip put his phone down and leaned back against the headboard of Price’s bed. He heard the shower running in the room just off the side of his bedroom. It was mostly plain, a few military propaganda posters here and some 80’s band posters there. On his dresser, there was a clear case with his medals in it. Phillip took another sip of his tea, he had never been a tea drinker before, but Price made it in a way he enjoyed.

The shower shut off abruptly, John came out with a towel around his waist. His upper body was on full display. There were some marks on the base of his neck and down to his happy trail. Phillip felt his face heat up because he knew the marks were from himself.

“You like what you see?” Price asked as he grabbed some clothes with his back to Phillip. He felt his face heat up even more and he grabbed a pillow to throw at Price. Price turned around in time to get the pillow to the face. “What was that for?” He tried to sound malicious, but the smile on his face and in his voice said otherwise.

“You deserved it.” Phillip smiled.

“What did I do to deserve a pillow to the face?” Price raised an eyebrow as he pulled on some clothes.

“Technically I was aiming for your back but you stood up and I panicked,” He shrugged, “And I wanted to get back at you for the comment about me liking what I saw Price.”

“John,” He corrected.

“What?” Phillip’s mind drew a blank on why Price was telling him his first name.

“John.” He repeated, “When we’re alone, call me John, not Price.”

“Oh,” Phillip nodded, “Okay John.”

“Much better,” He smiled again. It reminded Phillip of an Australian marsupial named the quokka.

“You’re men are apparently wondering where you were according to my second.” Phillip said as Price—no, John—pulled a shirt on, it hugged his body in all the right places.

“They are?” He grabbed his phone but it didn’t turn on, it was dead.

“I didn’t tell my second where you were but that I knew you were safe. Then she asked me and I didn’t say anything,” He watched him plug in his phone, “I didn’t know if you were out to your men, and I didn’t want to be the one to out you.”

“I am,” John replied, “But it was kind that you thought about that.”

“Do you want to use my phone to tell them you are okay?” Phillip asked, unlocking his phone and holding it out to him.

“If you don’t mind,” John took it when Phillip held it out to him.

PHILLIP: Ghost?

THE SCARY ONE: Graves? Why are you texting me this early?

PHILLIP: This is Price, I’m with Graves, my phone is dead. Tell everyone I’m fine.

THE SCARY ONE: Why are you with Graves 🤨🤨🤨

“Ghost wants to know why I’m with you,” John looked at Phillip, “What should I say?”

“I trust him to keep a secret, if you want to tell him go ahead John.” Phillip replied.

PHILLIP: We had sex last night

PHILLIP: Ghost, you good mate?

THE SCARY ONE: …

THE SCARY ONE: Miller, Laswell, and Johnny owe me £100 each.

PHILLIP: You bet on that? Really?

THE SCARY ONE: No, we bet on if Graves swung both ways or not.

Phillip started to laugh as he read over John’s shoulder. “I thought she had bet on that.”

“Is betting normal for the Shadows?” He asked.

“Only the Lieutenants and higher,” Phillip gently grabbed John's hands and intertwined their fingers.

“Oh,” John replied, “Me, Ghost and Kate often make bets on dumb things.”

Phillip still felt wrong for how he and John were an hour later, they were on John’s couch and watching a movie. It was a period of no missions because they just finished a long and tough one. Deep down, the little part of him he kept locked away most of the time was happy, happy he finally let it out, happy he was being himself.

5 months later:

Phillip wakes up in his bed with John like he does every morning now. He smiles at his boyfriend who is still asleep. Sun trickles in through the gap in the curtains. John is laying with his back to Phillip, he’s snoring while sleeping peacefully. Phillip gets up and makes his side of the bed, which isn’t easy with John on the other side of it.

He quietly walks out of their room and starts a pot of coffee, then he gets out some waffle mix and pours it into a bowl and adds milk and eggs. He gets out a waffle maker that makes the waffles into the shapes of a skull and plugs it in to preheat. Once it’s done, he pours some batter into the waffle maker and shuts it.

He pours a cup of coffee and sips it while waiting for the waffle to be done. When it is, he repeats the process of making the waffles until he is out of batter. He plates a few and puts them at the table before grabbing a cup that says “World's Best Dad” on it and pours a cup and puts it by the waffles. On the table, there is a bottle of syrup, butter, and silverware.

Somehow John hasn’t woken up from all of the noise Phillip had been making as he cooked, so he walks back into their room and kisses John. It’s one of the best ways to wake him up because it doesn’t scare the shit out of him. His eyes fluttered open and he smiled at Phillip.

“Good morning Phil,” He sits up, “What time is it?”

“Just after 0700,” He replies, “Now hurry up before your waffles get cold.”

“Waffles?” John smiled.

[intheholler]

I’m so sorry I’m so late

Tw for church and sa and some god hate

My parents are divorced and that’s important for this. One day, on summer holidays, (I think I was twelve, maybe thirteen, I don’t know, my brain is wants me to forgot) I was spending holiday’s at my father house. I borrowed my mum’s phone for the holiday because she didn’t use it anymore and had cool games there.

But one day somone called the phone. And I picked up. It was old man, like my parents, maybe a bit older. He said that he’s friend with my parents and if I’m the little Ellie that he used to carry. I’m saying that I’m sorry that I don’t know him. My father overheard and took the phone and started talking with him. Yes, he was really my parents friend and I was the little Ellie he used to carry when I was a newborn.

And yes, he thought he was gonna call my mother because for some twisted reason he remembered that she existed. Long story short, at the end of the summer my mum and him were dating.

He had two daughters, first a year older and the second seven years younger than me.

And that’s when things went downhill. We stared living with them in the blink of an eye in my brain but I’m pretty sure that it took some time.

He was a religious man. We knew about that. But we didn’t know how he used to beat and manipulate his ex wifes ‘in the name of god’

Soon I was brought to church because as he said, I was uncontrollable and a brat. And he already manipulated my mum so it was very easy for him to do so. He genuinely believed that if he asks a god for forgiveness that god will forgive him. He was praying every night like ‘Father look at this wild child, so rebellious, she never listens to anyone and forgive for saying this, but she’s a brat, please give me the strength to handle her.’

I mean he’s right, I’m a little fight starter and I like to piss people off and I’m autistic so god doesn’t make sense to me and I was thirteen so I was literally like a Young Sheldon and his fact checking. I was questing the Bible just to make them mad and also bcs those things they were saying were in contrary with the Bible to me.

So I was called a Satan child for questioning the Bible, I was walking the wrong path and I was eaten by the darkness.

Once his youngest daughter accidentally misspelled some world and she ended saying that she has a girlfriend instead of boyfriend. They laughed it off but said to not ever be gay. So I said ‘What’s wrong with it?’. It was followed by screaming, even my mum’s, and he screamed the Bible out for me. Dragged me to church the next day and I had to listen to made up stories about how homosexuality is a sin and that I’m old enough to understand it. Then they all prayed for me so I would find my way back to light and god.

Maybe that’s the reason why he told me that I need his hands on my body, to cleanse me from sins and darkness. (I hope y’all know what this means) No, he never used a god to be a bad guy, he’s fucking crazy, has a god complex and does believe that he has some sort of power. I remember how he threw the Tv out of the window because it was the devil’s work.

Or maybe that’s something I want to believe.

It ended up with them breaking up because he said I’m way too much eaten by devil that prayers can’t save me. He used my mum, manipulated her, took her money and brain away and then left us on a street.

I’m wondering if he realises what he did. If he really uses a god to apologize his sins manipulative behavior and if he’s like all aware of it or if he really has a god complex and some psychosis and doesn’t realise any of it.

But he says that he’s a good person because he’s only following God’s words.

Anyway; since that I found the whole Christianity stupid. Because why this kid at church, maybe 4, cried to us that if he’s gonna pray maybe god will forgive him his sins? He’s a kid! Four years old! What kind of sins a kid can have?! And what kind of kind and lovely god is this shit man if he’s letting some assholes like them doing this a kid and make kids believe that they’re bad humans?

I still don’t understand what kind of gaslighting abusive faith is this but maybe im way too autistic to understand it.

Please don’t try to explain the god to me or tell me how Christianity is good, anyone who feels like they need to explain it to me, I don’t give a shit anymore and I hope y’all understand why. Also im very much stubborn and once I make my opinion you can’t change it.

Also once we left I outed myself to my mum, she almost dragged me back to church, she didn’t, but that didn’t stop her from telling me how sinful I am for MONTHS like mf never got tired of running her mouth

The religious lesbian

(anon: i'm so glad you popped back up. i just saw your question, and i wanted to assure you it was absolutely nothing you did wrong. i hope i didn't lead you to think that.

i overthink everything and it was incredibly personal, so i wasn't terribly sure if you wanted it posted publicly or not, as my invitation to share your story came with the assurance that it could remain private if you wanted.

i still have it sitting in my asks actually because i didn't know how to reach you to double check for your permission to share it!)

thank you for sharing such an intimate and difficult part of yourself. presenting without comment as not to overshadow your story <3 but i do want to say, at the very least, you deserve so much more than you got.

[haggishlyhagging]

FRANCES: I fell in love with a girl for the first time when I was twenty-four. I'd been in therapy at a hospital clinic [Bellevue] and told my therapist about it when he came back from his vacation.

PHYLLIS: What was his reaction?

FRANCES: He freaked out. He started yelling at me. "You're doing this because you think I'm your father and you want to hurt your father. You're a spoiled child. The minute I go away you do this, you go and do something that can be so dangerous" and he just freaked me out! Y'know. Because, since I'd been in therapy, I was truly happy. I did what I wanted to do, 'n' she was really lovely, and I was very happy. But he freaked me out, y'know. Basically he just said that my behavior was arrested at a homosexual level. He sort of made me understand that it was a very unfortunate thing that I was doing and that it would result in heartache. Which I understand, I mean, I do. It's certainly much better to live within the system. Although this system is for shit. You know, my girl friend was also coming to Bellevue for treatment. So one angle he took was that she wasn't too cool, because look, she was coming to Bellevue for treatment and I said, "Oh, God, I'm here. What are you talking about?" Then he said, "How could you stand it—don't women smell awful?" and I said, "Wow, y'know, if you wash" and he said, "Oh, please, no matter how clean a woman is, no matter how clean, she still smells." And I said, "I don't know, it just doesn't bother me." He said, "Did you ever see the statue of David? A man's body is so much more beautiful than a woman's body!" "You're crazy," I said. "I'm not saying my values are the values, but you better dig it, Doctor, and check out your own set of eyes, you've got some thinking to do."

-Phyllis Chesler, Women and Madness

[luellaaa]

the beginning of writing this, i was going to just do a list. a straight up list. then upon writing i added some extra words, leading to minimal captions for the first few songs... then i got extremely analytical because i'm just obsessed with gaga and her music. enjoy!

< i have also linked my playlist of my fav gaga songs at the bottom of the post! >

my top favourite lady gaga songs and why:

1. poker face - she’s as timeless as bisexuality can be, this was the first lady gaga song i had ever heard and honestly the first song i had ever heard at the ripe age of 3. this was on my dad’s hottest summer hits of 2008 and oh my god, this man is pretty homophobic yet he let me absolutely JAM to this song every day from when i was 3-5. this was the only song on the cd that i listened to, liked, LOVED. and i would be lying if i said i didn’t love it today. this song introduced me to gaga!!!! (hey girl xx), set my music standards waaay too high and wholly shaped me as a person.

2. born this way - of course it is the world number one! this song is for everyone. for freedom, rights, love and acceptance, the blueprint for the gay community, the inventor of all things homosexual, the acceptor of all people. lady gaga’s fan base is limited to NO ONE and she makes it extremely clear. the bible said it: god makes no mistakes; lady gaga just repeats it. she proved to the whole world that preaching music, love, dance, acceptance and most importantly, individuality is easy. it really is! she told the people of the world to start loving the people of the world. as the world should be.

3. just dance - also in the universal top three lady gaga songs of all time, just dance started the whole of gaga’s reign upon the world. this song embodies the ideology of an innocent feminine presence in a wild setting. she doesn't know what is going on, she has had too much, where are my keys? i lost my phone! how'd i turn my shirt inside out? although, through this time of uncertainty, she is smart enough to keep dancing, to push on and stay with the crowd, gonna be okay. this doesn't have to limit to the clueless feminine though, it appeals to anyone, helps anyone to realise that whatever troubles they may be in, it's okay to just dance. it will be okay. i feel like this is why lady gaga's songs are so captivating and addicting, and why just dance took the whole world by storm in 2008. the lyrics to her songs can be subconsciously understood by anyone and pleasing the mind through house & dance beats leading them to have a more positive mindset.

4. judas - it is no doubt that lady gaga doesn’t just produce music, she produces art. and art is always up for interpretation, so i may be wrong here, but this is my interpretation of this masterpiece. this song serves as some sort of a big fuck you to the (white) christian community (i feel in today, 2022) and how they shun upon people who ‘do evil’ even though they most definitely ‘do evil’ themselves. the chorus full of rage. she’s a holy fool, looked down upon by the community because of what she is doing, but she can’t help herself, she’s still in love with judas, the evil that the community shuns her upon. after reading material on this song, i wanted to confirm if what i typed was right and i learned that it is a metaphor: “So the song is about washing the feet of both good and evil and understanding and forgiving the demons from your past in order to move into the greatness of your future.” - pop culture as a religion… (MSN, 2011) & i believe i somewhat hit the mark on this!

5. babylon - gayest shit i have ever heard in my LIFE. i love every moment of the song, i love screaming it in the car by myself & with my friends. when i first found the song, i was going thru a pretty dramatic time in my life and i just realised that gaga is right. let them talk, babble on, battle for their lives, babylon! i don’t have to take any part in it, and honestly, from that moment forward i was in no dramas with anything & my life really started to be the most positive it had ever been! chromatica is the blueprint for healing, and this song is a perfect end to the album, representing that there is pain in healing, it is a journey, and in the end one can always come out on top through personal discovery. just like the ancient city of babylon.

6. sexxx dreams - this song got me hooked straight back onto gaga. i was not always so obsessed with her, i would always have at LEAST one of her songs in my playlists (i mean it’s gaga how could you not?) my friend posted this song to one of his instagram stories and i was like SHIT THIS IS GOOD so i went onto artpop, i will admit i didn’t really like the album at first (probs cuz i was 8 years old) but oml almost 10 years on i discovered it and artpop was the only music i would go on to listen to for the next two months. i was HOOKED. i messaged gaga about 1000 times telling her about how her music is just so incredible and how she is a walking work of art, i think she knows it but like, she needs to know it more.

7. swine - this song just killed me. the first time i heard it, i knew it was a direct response to what had happened to her in the past & the pain she was feeling. i felt it too. the rage that radiated from every word she sung, every beat that hit, every note that played just radiated the most FUCK YOU energy i have ever felt. i would do anything to hear it again for the first time on max volume. artpop was so ahead of its time that it’s not funny. it’s really not! it’s such a direct response to the pain that she has gone through during being a star, within her first five years! i’m so glad that she expressed it through art. gaga is an exceptional artist. she is able to draw out her own personal emotion in her music in the most profound way, which the audience can perceive as absolutely anything that they personally feel, or bias with, leading to the most broad, most likely wrong, analysis. gaga's performance of swine at south by southwest (Doritos BOLD campaign) is the perfect example of this. i would do anything to go back in time and see that performance.

8. fashion! - looking good and feeling fine is now my blueprint for self confidence. on a personal level, this song has helped me so much. i have always struggled with self consciousness and social anxiety, and after hearing this song it helped me to realise that we only live once, no one cares about anyone except themselves. this song has helped me grow into myself and helped me find my own personal style, that doesn’t take from the current fast fashion-esque trending styles. look at me now, i feel on top of the world in my fashion! this song draws attention to oneself, while showing the onlooker that they have no say in my fashion, i’m upbeat, i’m looking good, and i’m feeling fine! and that’s all that matters. …this is coming from 2022, where most lgbtq+ teenagers are addicted to the word slay. not sure the real origin of this word, but since i am biased i lead myself to believe that lady gaga did in fact start this too. the backing vocals in fashion repeat ‘slay, slay,’ which makes me so excited as a queer teenager today. eeee! gaga has been saying this since 2013!!!! and girl hasn’t stop slaying since x

:this is obviously all personal opinion and you are 100% free to disagree with me! this is how i personally feel with her songs & my knowledge on gaga and her music as a fan ♡:

fangirl moment: gaga receiving backlash and creating controversy over this that and the other… i don't care. she is the most authentic, genuine, amazing artist, musician on this earth. growing up partially in the church and going to a christian school for 13 years, i NEVER felt connected to god, especially the christian one. when i had to pray, i decided that i would pray to lord lady gaga as i know she’s real, and she’s out there watching over all her little monsters. thank you lady gaga. i love you and your music so much and it is my dream to one day meet you and tell you this in person, even if i am the millionth person to do so.

[sta7z]

“Meanie!” Nancy x Little!Reader (featuring the fruity four)

Warnings ig?: Y/N being a menace to society. Nancy being strict. Fruity four 🤩🤩 mentions of time out and spankings. Uhhh homosexuals.

🦋:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ Butterfly :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ🦋

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧ .・゜゜・　　・゜゜・． ｡･ﾟﾟ･　　 ･ﾟﾟ･｡. Meanie >:[.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．｡･ﾟﾟ･

It was just You, Robin, and Eddie. The three of you were watching the Care Bears, Eddie fell asleep and Robin was halfway passed out. You decided to grab the remote and change the channel. Killer Klowns From Outer Space was on! Yes! Nancy and Steve both agreed on no horror movies when you’re little, but you had seen this one before. You knew it was nothing but animatronics and special effects.

You continued watching the movie, in absolute awe and terror. You watched as one of the clowns put on a puppet show, and then… ZAP! You squealed as the man was wrapped in a cocoon of cotton candy. Eddie and Robin stayed fast asleep on the couch. You decided you wanted to make a drawing, you grabbed your crayons and started rummaging around for paper. Until the idea struck you! There was this boring wall in the corner, in your least favorite color, a nice drawing would look great there!

The movie continued on as you scribbled away on your newly found canvas. You heard keys jingling in the door, you hurried up and put your stuffed animals, that were once sprawled along the floor, lined up the against the wall. Nancy walked in along with Steve. “Hey baby!! Can you come help us put up the-“ The high pitched laughter of the Killer Klowns was really really loud. You rushed to change the channel but by then Nancy was behind you. Crossing her arms and tapping her foot. “What is this?” Nancy asked, her tone stern. “I- I um. It’s just… Eddie an Robin said I could wach its!” You whined pointing at the two who were somehow still asleep.

Nancy shook her head. “Butterfly, just tell the truth and you’ll be in a lot less trouble.” You looked down at your feet and shrugged. Steve came into the room and huffed, “Thanks soooo much for the help with the groceries guys, so much teamwork!” He sat down next to Eddie and gave him a gentle kiss on the head. He tilted his head at my anxious expression “what’s the matter little bear?” Nancy turned to him and said “Someone here is watching a horror movie, which is against the rules, and is trying to blame the sleeping beauties.” Steve took a deep breath and ran his hand through his hair, “Teddy Bear, tell the truth. I doubt either of us wants to deal with Nancy’s fussing all day long.”

You opened your mouth to explain until Nancy turned her head to the pile of stuffed animals in front of the wall. And your crayons stuffed into the box sitting on the floor beside them. “W-wait d-don’t wook! Mama don’t wook!” You tugged on her sleeve. Nancy sighed and moved the stuffed animals out of the way, she saw your drawing and took a deep breath. “Y/N,” god. Your name. Shivers went down your spine. “You’re going to clean all of this up do you understand me? And if it doesn’t scrub out you’re repainting the entire wall” Tears started welling up in your eyes “Nuh,uh I don’t want any of that, you know not to draw on the walls. Me and Steve just got you new coloring books and sketchbooks. We told you we would before we went to the store!” Nancy scolded. You looked down at the ground and mumbled a “Yes mama”.

Nancy went upstairs, as Steve scolded Eddie and Robin for falling asleep while watching you and filled them in on what happened. “Jeez, she really wouldn’t make them paint the whole wall… right?” Robin murmured. “With how upset she is, probably.” Eddie interjected. “Shouldn’t we go help? I feel kinda bad… we were supposed to be watching her.” Robin said getting up, Steve pushed her back down and said “I want too aswell but you know how serious Nancy is about punishments-“ The three shuddered, “yeah-“

You finished wiping away the rest of the crayon marks off the wall “M-mommy I done.” Steve came over the inspect the wall. “Good job teddy bear! I’ll go get mama okay?” You hesitated for a moment then nodded. Nancy walked over to you and gave you a big hug, “you know I love you right?” You nodded. “I still need to punish you, you know that Butterfly.” “B-but I cweened up!” Nancy gave you a loving look “I know but not only did you watch a big girl movie without permission you also lied about it. Twice.”

“You’re lucky you were able to get your drawing off the wall, if not you’d be over my lap right now.” Robin chuckled from the side of the room, earning a ‘You’re next’ look from Nancy. “Now as for your punishment, you’re going to write ‘I will follow the rules’ and ‘I will not lie’ on a peice of paper 20 times each.” You stomped your foot and whined “No mama! Not lines! I learned my wesson, I be good!” Nancy tilted her head and cupped your cheeks. “I know butterfly, but I, well, Steve has been letting you off the hook a lot lately. So you do your lines and no more TV for a week.” You pouted and mumbled “you’re mean…” under your breath. “Do you want a time out too?” Shocked that Nancy heard you, you uttered an apology and grabbed your pencil and paper to start writing.

A/N WHY WAS THIS SO LONG???? I wrote this while procrastinating on homework so there are probs so many Grammatical errors-

[gutscenes]

mdzs vol. 1 chapter 6: the malevolent– first readthrough thoughts

Early in this chapter Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji plan to split up and meet at an inn. The way Lan Zhan so obviously does not want to leave Wei Wuxian’s side…”The exchange was extremely rushed, and Lan Wangji only paused for a moment. But still, Wei Wuxian added, ‘Go on. Take any longer and they’ll get away. I’ll be there!’ At the ‘I’ll be there,’ Lan Wangji gave him a deep look.’ This is him saying, like: how can I bear to let you out of my sight again? Do you know how long thirteen years is? And then he bears it. Jeez.

Also Lan Zhan continuously protecting Wei Wuxian from Jin Ling’s dog. WHAT A MAN!!

I love how strict Jiang Cheng is with Jin Ling, and yet apparently he is the relative who dotes on him the most. Do you understand how much that makes me love Jiang Cheng?? He’s so contrary. It’s so endearing.

“Suddenly, Jiang Cheng gave him a side-eye. ‘What’s your name?’ Wei Wuxian’s wits were so scrambled that he couldn’t recall whether he said anyone’s name right then.’ and then: “[Jiang Cheng] said, ‘Speaking of, I forgot to ask you. Since when have you gotten along so well with Lan Wangji?’ He said Lan Wangji, holy shit. Call me by your name moment.

Jiang Cheng starts bad mouthing Lan Zhan: “‘How could someone like him, so lauded for his manners and solemn righteousness, possibly tolerate you? Perhaps he shares some sort of relationship with this body you’ve stolen’” and Wei Wuxian is Not Having It: “Wei Wuxian couldn’t listen anymore. He said, ‘Watch your tongue.’” Wei Wuxian may tease Lan Wangji up the wall, but he is probably the last person you want to insult Lan Wangji in front of. 

Also, Lan Wangji does not hang around Wei Wuxian DESPITE his manners and solemn righteousness, he hangs around Wei Wuxian BECAUSE of all his well-respected qualities. Because his being well-mannered makes Wei Wuxian flirt with him. Because I think he believes Wei Wuxian to be just as righteous as he is.

“‘Young man, sometimes in life, there are a few sappy things one must say.’ ‘What?’ Jin Ling asked. ‘Thank you and I’m sorry,’ Wei Wuxian replied.” I feel like this is going to be WEAPONIZED against MY HEART in the context of WWX and LWJ thanking and apologizing to each other? Ouch oof it already hurts just thinking about it??

God, Wei Wuxian apologizes so earnestly to Jin Ling, in a way he has never been apologized to before, that it makes him uncomfortable. This is just so…sweet. WWX is a good uncle.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji meet up again and Lan Wangji immediately knows Wei Wuxian took the curse on Jin Ling and transferred it to himself. He grabs Wei Wuxian’s wrist, he kneels down on the ground and starts hiking up his trouser leg. Like, anything to help Wei Wuxian, to ensure he is okay!!! 

Also lmao: “Lan Wangji stared at [the curse mark] for a good moment before he said, greatly embittered at the sight, ‘I was only gone for a few hours.’ Wei Wuxian shrugged. ‘Several hours is a long time. Anything can happen. Come now, come now, you may rise.’” And then he pulls Lan Wangji up. All the casual touching in this chapter…

'“A full-grown man needing to be carried on someone’s back is too unsightly.”

“Is it unsightly?” Lan Wangji asked.

“Is it not?” Wei Wuxian countered.

After a moment of silence, Lan Wangji said, “But you’ve also carried me on your back before.”

“Really? How come I don’t remember?” Wei Wuxian said.”

Lan Wangji replied impassively, “You never remember these things.”'

And Wei Wuxian continues to insist that Lan Zhan does not need to carry him on his back. So Lan Zhan, ever the one to look for loopholes (what?) and be playful (wait a sec?) and initiate touch (are we thinking of the same person…?) instead sweeps him up into a princess carry. Just another instance where Wei Wuxian drives him to act totally out of character. People do crazy things when they’re in love.

“[Wei Wuxian] batted at the sashes on Lan Wangji’s chest and then laughed as he moved his hands as if to pull them apart.” Homosexual behavior spotted. Forever obsessed with how much Wei Wuxian loves how Lan Zhan smells, btw

“Lan Wangji performed an extremely indecorous act. This was perhaps the most boorish thing he’d ever done in his life. With Wei Wuxian in his arms, he kicked the door open.” I’M ALIVE!!!!!!! THIS IS THE SHIT I LIVE FOR!! And he walks in holding WWX and places him down on the mat. Gentle, careful, strong. This is romance people!

Wei Wuxian cannot handle Lan Wangji taking a knee in front of him. And oh my god, as Wei Wuxian reveals the curse mark spread all the way up to his inner thigh, Lan Wangji suddenly cannot handle seeing all that skin. He needs to put his eyes anywhere but on WWX. I’m living for a flustered Lan Zhan.

The little things that Lan Wangji does for Wei Wuxian really speak volumes about his affection… He intricately mends Wei Wuxian’s bamboo flute so he can play better. It’s just such a sweet little moment, so doting. Who knew Hanguang-jun could be so soft??

But at the same time he can also be the scary, powerful cultivator he is in order to protect Wei Wuxian. “The evil-sealing qiankun pouch shot toward Wei Wuxian. The notes under Lan Wangji’s fingers swerved, and with a sweep across the guqin, all seven strings strummed in unison, letting out an angry roar akin to a landslide.” Don’t talk to me or my husband ever again.

Okay this is so hot and weird and endearing. But at the Nie Clan burial site, Lan Wangji gets JEALOUS of the corpses that Wei Wuxian wishes to enact trouser-removal upon (to like, check if they’re legs match the disembodied arm, or whatever). This is so wild and absurd and weirdly very attractive of him. He will not allow Wei Wuxian to take off the pants of any other man, even if that man is a corpse!!! 

I’m focusing a lot on the little (and big) Wei Wuxian/Lan Wangji moments, because I am gay, but I am also adoring the worldbuilding and the mystery and the flashbacks and all sorts of character interaction. I would read an entire book about Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng. I would read an entire book that was just Wei Wuxian acting outrageously (one could argue that I already am). Needless to say I love it here

[cherryeol04]

Action! | Ch. 35

Genre: Humor, Romance, Slice of life?, Crackheadedness

Pairings: BaekRen, MinRon

Work Count: 1.6K

Summary:  From the moment he was casted, Ren wasn't sure if he had what it would take to be a pop idol. Losing faith in himself, he was going to give up the future he had always wanted, but one person stood by his side and renewed his faith. After a hot debut and rapid growth of stardom, Ren started to notice that maybe this person, his close friend, was something more. But how could a straight man even remotely think of a homosexual relationship?

Warnings: Homophobia, some smut (chapters will be marked)

A/N: I wrote this series back in 2012 and used OCs and over the top writing style for arguments. Whoops. Lmao it’s pretty decent though, so I hope you enjoy!

↶Previous

Baekho's POV

"You're a mess." I whispered. Taking the tissue, I wiped away the running eyeliner. "God you look like a raccoon." I said and laughed softly.

"I'm sorry." Ren whispered. "I didn't mean to cry like such a baby." Frowning, I lowered my hand and stared at him. He wasn't a baby, though he did cry like one. But I understood, he was scared of having sex, scared of losing me, and I was scared of losing him. But I knew I was going to do anything to keep him close to me.

"Don't be sorry. We took it slow didn't we?" I asked with a grin. A flush spread across his cheeks and I chuckled. He was just so damn cute.

"Actually we moved a whole lot faster than I thought we would." Ren admitted and I nodded. We moved fairly quickly the moment we got into the room. But he didn't stop me and I didn't get carried away. I played to his needs and when he finally choked up, like I knew he would, I stopped and just held him until he stopped crying.

And that's how we ended up in the bathroom naked. It was nice, what we did and we both got off at least once, I think Ren got off twice though. It wasn't until I tried fingering him that he had issues. And I wasn't sure I was doing it right. Didn't really have time to look up how to have gay sex, or ask anyone really. Anyone being Aron and Minhyun.

"We did and it was fun right?" I asked, slipping my arms around his waist, pulling him close to me.

"It was." Ren said and smiled. His arms wrapped around my waist and I smiled. I liked being in his arms as much as I liked holding him in mine. Before I always thought that this was a friendly gesture, but looking back, deep down I knew I liked this more than a friend should. I liked holding Ren and touching him and now, I love kissing him. Another thing I got upset up about when he closed up towards me.

"And it didn't get uncomfortable until the end right?"

"Right." Ren said with a nod.

"So see, you weren't scared of everything. Just the big thing. Which we can work on okay?" I said and kissed his cheek gently.

"I know we can." Ren said as he stared up at me. Sighing, he rested his head on my shoulder. Rocking him gently, I stroked his back. "I still feel so embarrassed that I cried like that. You hadn't really done anything, just touched me." He whispered.

"And it's okay." I said and pulled back. Grabbing Ren's chin, I lifted his head so he could stare at me. "Baby it's scary. I know I would feel the same if you were doing that to me. I understand, so don't feel embarrassed." I told him.

"And I won't do it again until you're ready, no matter how long that takes." I assured him.

"Really?" Ren asked, eyes wide. I nodded to him and he grinned. "Oh Baekho! I love you so much!" He exclaimed as he moved his arms from my waist to my neck and kissed me happily. I let out a small laugh as our lips met, my arms tightening as I held him against me tightly. Pulling back, I licked my lips.

"I love you too Ren." Kissing him again, I sighed happily. "Let's go back to the bed now. I think we have enough time to please each other again before someone comes looking for us." I said. Ren nodded eagerly and stepped away from me. Letting him go, I took his hand and led him out of the bathroom and back to the bed for a little more loving.

~*~*~

Minhyun's POV

Oh my god, I can't believe all that has happened in the past few weeks and the tour isn't even over yet! I can only imagine what's going to happen when we get home. And I'm not looking forward to it. I love Ren to death and all, but he is seriously fucking up this relationship he's in. I understand he's scared of sex, I was too at first, but I didn't let that fear stop me and Aron. But Ren is different than me, far more...what's the word?

Delicate? 

Sensitive?

Feminine?

A combination of all those words. He is...our maknae and he takes things differently than the rest of us. He's also stubborn as a damn horse and if he doesn't open his eyes and realize what he's doing to his relationship, he's going to regret it. Baekho isn't a saint either. He's not helping the situation at all, but I can't blame the guy. He looks so lost when I stare at him and I feel so bad.

But that doesn't excuse him for his actions and he deserved each and every punch he got from me. But hopefully with JR talking to them, everything will work out. They'll work it out somehow and we won't feel so much tension. I'm sure our fans feel the tension at the concerts.

And let's not get on the subject of Aron. I don't know what was up with him and trying to get me and JR to work on things. So far we have, going at our own pace. I'm fact, we're almost back to normal. We can hold civil conversations, we can be alone together for a short time. While I don't think I could ever forgive him for what he did, he is slowly gaining back my trust and we are becoming friends again. I'm thankful for that. I do miss the times JR and I would just hang out together. Those were the good old days.

Stretching, a grunt left me as bones cracked and I felt so much better. Walking to my door, I pulled out the room key and slid it into the slot. Waiting for green, I opened the door and walked in. It was quiet, which was strange because I had left Aron alone. It had taken a lot of convincing to the two that I wouldn't go find Baekho and kill him. I believed JR when he said that Ren and Baekho were going to work on their relationship, so I wasn't going to interrupt that and possibly ruin the chances of them ever getting back together.

Walking into the open room, I stared at the bed and smiled. The old man was fast asleep. I shouldn't say that though, making fun of Aron like that. The other had been sounding horse lately and seemed sluggish as of late. I think he's getting sick and I feel so bad for him. Which means we're probably going to miss him at one or more concerts.

Shaking my head, I moved to the small table by the window and sat down. I looked over the mess of papers, pictures and random items fondly. A blue piece of paper caught my attention and I picked it up. It was a small note from JR. 

'Minhyun,

I tucked Aron-hyung in. He said he wasn't feeling good and he looked a bit sick. I'll let manager-hyung know so we can get him taken care of so hopefully he won't miss any of the concerts on the tour. I checked on Ren and Baekho while you were out and they were getting to know each other...on the bed I sleep on in the room I share with Baekho.

I didn't mean to catch them, but I did and it got me to thinking about things, things I've been thinking about on and off for the past few months. It's crazy what's going on in my head and I don't understand it. But there is something inside me that's just, I guess screaming at me.

Anyway, I'm sure I've got you confused now, so I'll just tell you what I need to tell you and work out the rest later when you confront me about it.

 Minhyun, I love you.  

See you later at rehearsal.

Your leader, 

Jonghyun~'

I read the note about three or four times more and each time my heart skipped a few beats. Despite what we've been through, and the fact that I probably will never forgive him for being a closed minded homophobic ass, I still love him.  JR was the first man I've ever loved, though not the first guy I've liked, which are two totally different feelings. He's my first love and all I've ever wanted was for him to love me too.

And nearly six months and countless dates and love making with Aron later, he finally says it. And worst of all, my first thought is to dump Aron and go to JR. But I can't do that. Aron has been there for me through it all. He's the second man I've ever loved and I do love him. But the prospect of being with JR, it's almost irresistible. I'm not that kind of person, and I know if I go to JR like that, Aron would think I was simply using him and that's not the case.

Oh god, what do I do?

I crumpled up the paper and threw it in the trash. Getting up, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself and moved to the bed Aron was laying on. Pulling back the covers, I crawled in behind him. Pulling the covers back up, I slid my arm around his waist and kissed his cheek gently. He shifted back against me and moaned softly, but never woke.

"I love you." I whispered softly as I got comfortable, spooning him. Resting my head on the pillow, I stared at the back of his head for a moment before closing my eyes.

What the hell am I going to do?

[herunstablelogic]

Dear Baby,

Yesterday was amazing. I got a lot done and I feel like things are looking up. Funny enough though, they are just going to go downhill again, but I am braced for it. I went to Campus Life and I am starting my journey to becoming staff which means, I am smacking a huge target on my back for the enemy to see and attack.

There are voices, baby; voices everywhere. They say the same things, over and over again; they repeat themselves but in different lights. Some say you aren’t tall enough; others say you aren’t white enough; many will say you aren’t wise enough, and some will say you aren’t good enough. Too fat, too skinny, too smart, and too dumb. Voices everywhere. When you are born into this world, you are born into a world at war. Not a war you can see, no blood shed of flesh, but war of spirits, demons and angels. You can see the effects of the war, the “blood shed,” when looking at those around you. She is suffering from anxiety and he thinks he is homosexual. This is the world you will be born into. A world at war. It took me awhile to realize it, but this is a world that I want to bring you into. No, not because this world is perfect, because it is not, but because I know you, my darling, can help fight this war.

Jesus died for our sins. We sinned against Him, yet He came down as a man, lived a perfect life and then died for us on the cross. Our sins were washed clean, the war had been won. He then rose from the dead and His spirit, if we allow it, lives within us. Why is this war still happening even though he died for us? That’s because the peace treaty hasn’t been signed. The talk at Campus Life tonight talked about this and it made so much sense! I just have to share it with you. If you learn about the wars we’ve had, which I hope you do baby, you will learn that we, America, won one battle the moment we established a bunker somewhere. I honestly cannot tell you which war and what the bunker was called, however, it was set that we won because no matter how many troops came upon us, there was no tearing it down. However, blood shed continued to be spilled even after that because of one reason: peace was not yet made.

So baby, the moment you are born, you are being exposed to this spiritual warfare that is happening all around us. What do you do? Fight.

In other words, I am going to start Kung Fu lessons soon. I get three months free of lessons, so I am stoked! Collin is also visiting Grass Valley next week; I asked him if he would be willing to “catch up.” I have yet to receive a response. I am not sure why I want to talk to him; I just do.

Also, I am considering enlisting into the military. I am unsure of what branch; however, it is nagging at me. I spoke to Scott, the spiritual leader of Campus Life and he said maybe God wants me at Campus Life for a while to grow in Him and then go and enlist. He said that the military is the enemy’s playground and he has seen many Godly men and women go in and be torn apart if they didn’t have a strong foothold in Christ. Why am I having the nagging to enlist? Is it from God? I am unsure baby… I prayed and asked God to point me to where he wanted me. He told me to be patient and that the road would be paved for me and I will know where to go when the forks appeared.

A woman at Campus Life also prayed for my anxiety. She had me pray out loud to and proclaim my anxiety to leave me. It was hard, to pray out loud in public… I felt like I swallowed my tongue for a second. It’s hard for me to pray out loud baby, I think the enemy doesn’t want me to. Our words have power, my love. Know this. Do not believe the saying, “Sticks and stone may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” God spoke the world into creation. Adam named all the animals of the Earth and they became what they are with their names. Eve was barren until she was re-named Eve from “woman.” Words have power. Our spoken words can change people. They can affect people. Don’t forget that baby, and I will also try to remember.

I think that is enough of my rambling for one sitting. I love you, as always.

[matchboxguns]

Days #15 and #16: Disease, Matchbox Twenty (2002) and Cinderella, Diana Vickers (2013)

(From an old life. Writing could really be a fun, retrospective exercise.)

But I believe the planets and the stars align When you look into my eyes I pray tonight that we don’t fail Click my heels, got a real life fairy tale

Let us not tell his real name but instead call him Donovan. Fair unblemished skin, clean-cut hair, a polished look. He’s the “chinito” archetype that makes all the ladies – and some of the fellas – fall head over heels with instant attraction. I dare say he is the proverbial Prince Charming – the cool self-assurance, the regal stance, the calm stare - only a tad shorter. He’s an Architecture major, studying at the same school I am. He’s also my roommate.

I only know three things about him since I moved in with the guys: he’s a basketball buff, he’s always glued to his computer, and he’s awfully quiet. He doesn’t really talk much; the only times I hear his voice is when he’s laughing at something he read on the Internet or at some punchline of some movie or TV show or let out grunts of frustration over some game he’s playing. Sometimes I hear him talking to someone over the phone at 1AM, whispering, probably so we won’t hear him, his smiles I can hear even when I’m about to drift to sleep.

He got me good. He got me really fucking good.

The first time I saw him, I was about to leave my bags on their room, as I’ll be moving in the following week. There were two of them – the other guy I’m sharing a room with – and I remember the exact words I said to them. “Hi. I’m your new roommate. I’m just gonna leave my bag and get going.” I tried to smile, try to force myself to have a jovial, agreeable glow. I tried to make a good impression, as I’m always surprised when people tell me I intimidate them or I seem like a jerk with an unbelievable amount of smugness and disrespect.

I saw him look at me when I entered the room, about to leave some of my things there. Well, I saw the two of them look at me, but I don’t care about the other guy. The other guy can trap himself in a burning building and I won’t even hand him a gobful of my sweat. Anyway, that was the first time our eyes met. I swear I could have taken a freeze frame. I can’t remember what he was wearing, but he was sitting on the top bunk of the bed, white earphones plugged in his ears, tap tap tapping on his laptop. His stare. It kept me awake that night. I shied away from that thought at first. I only thought, “ ’Sup, cute guy?” and thought about and did other things. But he left a mark on me.

Feels like you made a mistake/You let somebody’s heart break Now I have to let you go/I have to let you go You left a stain/On everyone on my good days But I am stronger than you know/I have to let you go No one’s ever turned you over No one’s tried to ever let you down Beautiful girl, bless your heart

Every time he’s about to take a shower or just took a shower or every time I see him shirtless, I feel a lot of things. A lot those feelings have to do with some raunchy party going down on my pants, yes, but most of them is fear. I get scared. That I might stare too long and my other roommates would see me eyeing him, or god forbid he catches me looking. He might not be the aggressive type, but I just had to control myself. I still believe this world is not made for people like us, because if it was I wouldn’t be having this problem.

It is a disaster waiting to happen. This is not the first time I liked a guy who didn’t like dicks in a sexual way, and the last time I did it fucked me up and it took me four years to get it out of my system. And it was for a guy I just shared classes with; this Donovan dude I’m gonna be sharing a room from now on. It’s hard enough to suffer the impending apocalyptic experience of unrequited love, but the idea of falling for another man who is straight and probably hates faggots with a passion is just unbearable. Yup, homosexuality is a hard way of living.

Sometimes I imagine Donovan getting mad over some petty stuff, like I how forgot to pick up my wet towel on the floor. We would bicker, he would come to me in a threatening posture, but I manage to push right before he throws the first punch. He gets up, so push him again, but this time he kicks my knee then I fall to the ground. I stand up, burned with anger and annoyance over some stupid wet towel, and I grab him by the collar and shove him against the wall. He grapples my arms, kicks my leg, lets out a grunt of fury. I stare at him, face-to-face, intending to give him a good knuckle sandwich.  His expressions change, then he leans over and kisses me. What a dirty thought. What a dirty, dirty thought. It’s disgusting, even for me. He doesn’t deserve any of this I am sure.

The worst thing is, this is going to happen to me over and over again. One day when I’m minding my own business I see a straight guy, and I’ll fall for him, and I start to be filled with angst and fury and red-hot disappointment. It’s Groundhog Day, every day is a repeat of yesterday. It’s One Hundred Years Of Solitude, it’s the definition of insanity: doing the same thing over and over again, expecting a different outcome. It’s no good at all.

If Cinderella was here tonight/I got a disease deep inside me baby She wouldn’t walk out the door leaving you behind/Feels uneasy baby Midnight calling but she don’t care/ I can’t live without you, tell me what am I supposed to do about it? She’d be a fool not to follow you anywhere/Keep your distance from me Because for you, I would lose both, both of my shoes/Don’t pay no attention to me Stay all night, see the light, that’s all I wanna do/I got a disease

He’s perfect. I could stare at him all day dreaming away, and I’d be happier than that time when I finally got a copy of Leo Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. And trust me, it felt like I was told there are other sentient beings in the universe and we can reach them and talk to them when I got that book. I could go on and on about what color of shirts he likes to wear, how he always looks down as if trying to avoid eye contact, and a lot of other small things I notice about him. But I won’t. I’ll just say he’s perfect, the most beautiful work of art I had the opportunity to see, the one person in the world who can make me stop singing Breaking Benjamin songs and think about love and possibilities and a host of other optimistic bullshit I normally turn away from.

I want to follow him wherever he goes, listen to the music he sings to, know his thoughts, his hopes and fears, peer at his very soul. Most importantly I want to see him writhe in pain and pleasure and hear his soft moans as I enter him. I want first dates, I want holding hands, stargazing while lying on a green field, I want big fights and make-up sex, cuddling on cold, rainy days, I want staring to each other’s eyes and not talking at all, I want all the regular couples sometimes take for granted. I want it all in glorious fucking Technicolor, but I don’t know how to get it without a picture of me looking over my shoulder wishing so hard that no one would stare and yell, “Faggots!”

I am smart enough now to know that I have to let this one go, throw it away in the trash and pretend it never happened, the same way I did with another straight guy I was sure I was in love with. Sometimes when I come home to our room after school and I see him I get filled with rage. At him, at myself, at the entire world. I want to shove him, beat him to a pulp and kick him out of the goddamned building. I want him to stay away from me, to forget he met me, to forget that he ever saw me. I’m clingy and obnoxious and I’m always going to want every inch of him and he’s not going to. I’m always going to be fooling myself by picturing the two of us in bed together, shirtless, skin kissing skin, my arms around him my lips in his ears cradling him to sleep. I’m always going to want to drive away with him in my Gray Porsche towards the purplish orange sunset. It’s no good, it’s no good for my mental health, it’s no good for anyone – especially for anybody who cannot ever truly recognize the harrowing mortality of a love felt towards another man.

So I don’t talk to him, I don’t make small talk. He likes the manly stuff and I don’t, he watches shows I don’t watch, and I can’t think of an interesting ice breaker to smash the iceberg of an awkwardness I’m feeling when he’s around. I just don’t try to talk to him. It’s going to be futile and humiliating on my part and I might look forward to something I know I’ll never get. I saw myself talking and staring at the other guy I fell for way back in college, and the picture was not pretty. I was desperately trying to hide my feelings, but somehow I think some people knew and detested it. It appalled me. I had to get rid of it, of everything. I had to stay away, lock myself in an imaginary quarantine facility.

It’s the oldest cliché that had ever existed: the loved perched high on a pedestal, almost godly, pure, incorruptible, unreachable, and the lover a lowly mortal, unworthy of anything but scorn and disdain, and should be grateful for knowing how love feels like. It’s everywhere: cheesy rom-coms, romantic novels, it was even in Anna Karenina, for god’s sakes (the Kitty and Levin part of the story, which I like way more than the Alex-Anna-Alex love affair).

The lover can’t help but love the loved more and more but he knows that the only things he wants in this world will never be realized, and it’s gonna break him to pieces.

Love. Can’t live with it, can’t live without it. It’s a poison you take to feel alive.

Yeah well I think that I’m sick But leave me be while my world is coming down on me You taste like honey, honey Tell me can I be your honey? Be, be strong, keep telling myself that it won’t take long ‘til I’m free of my disease

Against my better judgment, I still imagine the two of us spooning , especially when I see him sleeping – his body in a fetal position, a small pillow in his stomach, his laptop still on and placed a few inches above his dreaming head. I am certain enough to know that that will never happen, even in the wildest of my dreams, but a small part of me is still secretly hoping, wishing away, overthinking the rare times when we accidentally make eye contact, or secretly hoping that he feels the same way for me, only he feels the same repulsion and got no clue what to do about it so he keeps his mouth shut.

One night I saw him open his small dresser and an issue of FHM accidentally fell from it, and I had a reality check: all I’ve been thinking about all day and all night and all I’ve been obsessing about will never happen. Reality. Grossly, immensely powerful stuff. He was able to slip it back in without anyone noticing – except me, of course. It only happened for a split second, but the memory of it I can’t destroy in a Men In Black fashion. I hope it won’t haunt me for too long.

It feels like I am bound to do the same mistakes, feel the same things over and over again, the same Donovan, but in different names and different appearances, and I don’t know how I can ever handle it. But every time I think about Donovan, all my love and my frustration and my disappointment, I tell myself this:

What won’t happen, won’t happen. Plain and simple. And it’s not because you did or didn’t do something or because someone did or didn’t do something. And it’s not because there’s some elaborate reason the universe is secretly hiding from us, either. It just won’t happen, it’s no one’s fault and there’s nothing you could ever do to change that. It is what it is.

I’m not gonna go out and find a reason, because this is the reason. His gentle indifference. I could live with that. It’s not a lot, and it’s certainly not hopeful. But it’s at least something, a remedy, a-band-aid-over-the-bullet-hole kind of thing. But it gives me peace. And a faint hope that one day, all this Donovan-related ramblings and self-flagellation will be over. That’s all I need, really.

Watch here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S5zttEPcCuQ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=He4vgqumVKE

[millenniumspirit]

/\ PINNED POST ; RULES&ABOUT ; DO NOT REBLOG /\

PROCLAMATION

This is an 18+ blog! Meaning: if you’re under the age of consent globally (generally accepted as 18 years), don’t follow or interact with this blog. This is for your own safety and mine. ♡

Rules Are As Follows:

Common courtesy, as per the usual. Please be nice, and I will do the same.

I work retail, so I won’t be replying immediately all of the time. I usually try to do them as I see them, but sometimes I am busy. If I’ve liked it, that means I’ve seen it, at the very least. :>

Length does not mean anything to me. I can go on a while sometimes, and I don’t mind if you do or don’t, either.

I do horror, gore, dark themes, sexual themes, etc. Not Safe For Work, in other words. It’ll all be tagged.

The usual No God-Modding - you know how it is.

I’ll play with OCs, duplicates, and crossover.

That being said, I am picky about who I write with. This blog is more irregular with activity, so when I'm here I want to be working on things I'm immediately excited about. Thank you for understanding. If you would like a better shot at writing, Seto and the Bakura duo are more flexible.

Multiship, with each relationship contained in its own little world unless otherwise specified.

AUTHOR:

My name is Ash, and I’m 27, dude, pretty experienced with writing. I’ve been RPing for quite a few years now, mostly on the KRP scene but with previous experience in Naruto+a couple other anime scenes. I do not typically add people on discord unless we vibe pretty well, but you’re free to ask for it after we’ve done some interacting. It is solely out of character - I do not roleplay anywhere but on tumblr.

It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.

I also run @millenniumgod and @numberoneduelist

_____

PIECE IT TOGETHER

Name: Atem

Alias: Yami, Yugi, Pharaoh

Age: 23 | 3023

Birthday: July 26th

Height: 160cm | 5'3"

Weight: 54kg, 120lbs

Blood Type: A

Gender: Male

Romantic+Sexual Preference: Demi Homosexual

Relationships: Aknamkanon (father), Aknadin (paternal uncle), Seto (first cousin) - All Deceased, Yugi Mutou (Reincarnation)

Generally, About the Main Verse:

This Atem exists Post-DSOD, reborn into his own body.

The first pang of guilt came at the end of his last duel with Yugi. The boy that he had spent upwards of two years with from the moment he woke to the moment he slept. The boy he had shared a body with, shared a bond with. The mirror to his own soul - his reincarnation. He should have won. His deck had been built to yield to Yugi’s by design, but even then… If he had truly tried, he could have stayed.

The second was when he returned to save Yugi - and the rest of the world, consequently - from the threat of the Ring and the Plana. He’d said nothing. They’d had an entire conversation with just one look, but he should have said something. He took the puzzle so that nothing cataclysmic would happen again.

The third regret, the final strike of remorse through his unbeating heart, was when Seto Kaiba came to his palace on the other side. The man had practically killed himself to see Atem, to duel him. He tore apart the cosmos to get the King back. It was a stark reminder of what he had been missing in Domino.

And in the end, he was unable to resist the call of the mortal world.

After the executive departed, he decided to find his own way back.

__

Atem now lives in Domino, re-acclimating to modern life. Despite having lived here for two years with Yugi, it’s a whole new ballgame now that he has his own body. His own autonomy. He can go places on his own time, dress the way he’d like to dress…

He’s still learning the value of money, and how public transit works, but things are… good. He’ll figure out the paperwork later.

[pyroclastic727]

Owl House said fuck capitalism

So this episode was interesting. Lilith pretty much killed her sister. Why the fuck would she do that?

Even more interesting: why is Belos like that? How did Hooty put his head through one of those guards? Who the fuck is the Titan, and why does everyone like him? And how are these all tied together?

This episode was a metaphor for capitalism

...and another delicious step towards radicalizing the youth into dismantling this fucked-up neo-feudal system.

We’ll start with Belos. 

Emperor Belos is a weird name, don’t you think? We all thought it was spelled “Bellows,” but it wasn’t. In fact, it’s five letters, starts with Be, ends with os, and describes a megalomaniac emperor that restricts people’s freedom in order to accumulate wealth for himself.

Sound familiar?

Emperor Bezos Belos created capitalism. He saw the beauty of magic and decided to make himself the most powerful.

Belos created a system that destroys the masses and boosts his power.

 I’m dipping into fan theory a little, because the fan theory fits. We know that people get branded with coven magic that makes it so they can only specialize in one area. We know that Belos is the most powerful witch in the Boiling Isles. We know that the excess magic, magic created by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

It’s the same system that many viewers see all the time. A job takes up all your day and tires you for the night, so you can only do one skill for the rest of your life. Jeff Bezos is the most powerful man in the United States. Excess money, money taken by restrictions, has to go somewhere.

The magic goes to Belos, like how the money goes to Bezos. Belos created capitalism, and he won it.

The guards aren’t real. 

Look, we’ve never seen their faces. They’re all the same. Why would you work so hard to get to the top, just to become a nameless, faceless killing machine?

Oh, also Hooty stuck his face through one. There is nothing under the armor.

Why? Well, it’s the same reason you see all those celebrities going around flaunting their wealth and bragging about how hard they worked. Like all those songs about how they grind every day and work harder than everyone else while you’re out clubbing, and that makes them dope. And then you take a closer look at them and see that they had a small loan of a million dollars fueling them, or an entire talent agency behind them, or their dad was a famous country star in the 80′s. 

They’re fake. They’re hollow. They’re a ploy created by the capitalist emperor to try to delude you into working harder. 

Let me put this into perspective. I guarantee that every single one of you has heard stuff like this: “Hard work makes you successful.” “I put in the work, and that’s why I’m successful.” “If you work hard enough, then you can be as successful as Mark Zuckerberg.” 

And unless you’re a robot or really lucky, I’m sure all of you have failed at this. Maybe they told you that hard work would make you good at math, so you spent 22 hours a week working on calculus, only to pass it by 3 percentage points and have it destroy your perfect 4.0 GPA. Maybe they told you that if you talked to people enough, then you would make friends, so you spent a lot of time talking to people, only to end up lonely and friendless. Maybe they told you that if you did well in school, you would get a good job, so you spent all your time working hard to be a good student, and then ended up in a soulless, dead-end job.

The guards are there to delude you. Look, who really gains from you being productive? The answer is the ruling class, the CEOs, the government, the bourgeoisie. It has always been that. All you get from working is a paycheck that lets you survive. They get a paycheck that lets them get rich. Just like Belos gets the magic and productivity of the specialized coven witches.

The guards are there to trick you. The truth is that nobody can join the Emperor’s Coven. It’s just there to make you think that hard work will make you successful. Then you spend your entire life working hard, trying to prove to the person in charge that you’re worthwhile. You give your whole life to the Coven, and they give you nothing. 

Magic is supposed to be something you pursue for fun. Being skilled at things, being good at something beautiful...that’s supposed to be something you do because you want to. But they took that and made it into a source of productivity. It doesn’t matter if you make good content. All people fucking care about is if you upload the day of premiere, if you make a lot of content quickly, if you maintain a million different conversations with strangers who expect you to be the most interesting person in the room. They don’t care how it hurts you. They don’t care how you crack from the stress. How you cry when you think no one can see you, and then you check your phone and someone can see you, someone did see you, and you have to put on your face and be the charming, magnetic person they want you to be. (oh by the way that’s why I wasn’t online much last week)

And it ruins it. Suddenly you can’t watch The Owl House without being stressed. You can’t make any content. You can’t make spells as powerfully as you want to. Your passion is replaced by perfectionism and insecurity, a voice telling you to keep being the best at what you do, or else they’ll forget you and let you die.

There’s also the Titan. 

So nobody has mentioned him before, because in addition to the Boiling Isles being a hellscape full of witchcraft and queerness, it’s also full of atheists. 

But suddenly we have people saying all this shit about him? Shit like, he gave witches the gift of magic, and then they learned to use it in a civilized manner, since being uncivilized was disrespectful?

I mean, first off, that’s fucking wrong. The island gives people magic. The island, which just so happened to be shaped like a titan-sized human. But the island/titan gives everyone all types of magic. Hell, even Luz gets to use magic, and she’s human. 

It sounds really fucking familiar. (tw for discussion of homophobia and colonialism and misogyny). It sounds like when the news is on and they show some Tr*mp supporter talking about how fetuses have more rights than people and it is their holy duty to take away a woman’s control over her body and force her through unbearable pain and into an 18-year commitment she didn’t want to make. It sounds like all the times people tried to say homosexuality should be illegal, citing a single line in a book written two thousand years ago and heavily edited by a European king. It sounds like all the times people said God wanted them to conquer, to own the entire earth, to force the other races into pain to support them.

This is that bullshit thing people do where they commit awful sins and justify it by citing the will of God. 

Or, it’s the Coven using religion as an excuse for evil.

Look, the Emperor’s Coven is clearly colonizer-coded. Saying that people’s original form of magic was wild (and showing a picture with the same joyous, rowdy energy of an 18th or 19th -century Black or indigenous party), and that it was God’s will for them to be “civilized?” Sounds like that thing that powerful white people did where they went and murdered people and forced them into their twisted capitalist system. God, gold, and glory, is what they said, because history books just love to omit the gore.

Lilith is passing the abuse cycle along. 

You know, like a good little colonizer. God I fucking hate her. She’s a MILF, in the sense that she’s a Mother I’d Like to Fling off a cliff. 

Ah, enough screaming about how much I want to drown Lilith in a tub of Hooty’s mucus. Let’s go into why I want to do that, and how she took the evils of capitalism and just...adopted those.

So, Lilith is sick and twisted for what she did to her sister. But, uhh, that’s the point. You see, there are so many other people out there like Lilith who would do the exact same thing, if given the chance. These are the people who do mean things when the teacher isn’t looking, and then act nice and try to frame you. These are the people who will hate you if you’re better than them. These are people who would do anything to bring you down, if you dare outperform them.

It’s greed, my friends. The mental illness that capitalism blesses us all with.

Lilith herself said it: she dedicated her entire life to the Coven. What she wanted was to be the best. And she almost was...except for her own sister. Someone who lived with her, annoyed her at home, bested her at school. Someone she could never beat, no matter how hard she worked. And her sister was younger than her, too! How insulting was that? Lilith wanted to be the best, and someone in her exact situation did better than her.

Lilith was insecure. And it consumed her.

But why? Why does insecurity consume her? I mean, no one can be motivated by insecurity forever. Well, not unless someone conditions it into you.

The lovely thing about the capitalist system is the morals it teaches you. Things like: “You’re only useful if you’re the best.” “Being school smart makes you smart, while being social smart or sports smart or creative smart or fandom smart is worthless.” “Your worth can be quantified by numbers and is based off arbitrary measures like your income or your grades.” Things that can and will drive us crazy if we let ourselves believe them.

And it did drive Lilith crazy. She got so twisted by a society that said being good at magic is her only worth. Look, Lilith used to be good at things, probably. She was good at sports. At times, she slips up and does an okay job of being Eda’s sister. She has a powerful presence when she’s in a room. And she’s wicked good at manipulating people. 

But that didn’t matter. Lilith bought into the lies. She let herself believe that magical skill was the only way to measure her worth. And since she needed to be the best, she hurt Eda for it.

The beautiful thing is, Eda didn’t buy that. "It’s my power, kid. And before you showed up, I spent my whole life wasting it.” Is what Eda said, as she used up the last of her power, the last of her life, to save Luz. In her final moments, she proved that she’s not like them. She’s stronger than them.

None of this matters. Not magical prowess. Not the hierarchy. Not the promise of joining the Coven and having more power than anyone else.

The only thing that matters to Eda is her family. Her real family. Her Luz, King, and Hooty. And by extension, Willow, Gus, and Amity. Those are Eda’s real reason for fighting, for dying: to protect them. Look, there’s no way she would’ve come out of that fight alive. She has a family, and her love for them is stronger than greed or jealousy or capitalism. 

Lilith never understood that. She thought the water of the womb was thicker than the blood of the covenant. Or, that the water of the womb and the blood of the covenant are stronger than the bonds of found family. She thought it didn’t matter if Eda loved, her, only if the Emperor loved her. Fucking bitch.

And now, a little something to worry about, before we go. Amity Blight. The girl who wanted to join the Emperor’s Coven more than anything, who dedicated her whole life to doing well in school, to being the best, to being perfect.

And then she met Luz. She fell for Luz. Now she’s in a tricky place, where habit and conditioning want her to join the Emperor’s Coven, but her heart wants her to do the impossible and destroy capitalism.

She wasn’t in this episode. Funny that being injured and unable to work ended up saving her from watching her future mother-in-law die. So she bought some time.

But Luz’s true mom is dead. This is the second mom she has lost, and she’s only fourteen. As powerful as King and Hooty are, Luz needs Amity. Luz needs Amity to support her and help her get back her mom.

So Amity has to make a choice. Fear and insecurity, or love and a high chance of death? 

She’ll probably choose death. Because that’s the message that this family-friendly show is giving us kids. Fuck capitalism. All you need in life is to do what makes you happy and be with the ones you love.