#my little catholic self was so excited to learn they got married in a catholic church 😂

[wanderingaldecaldo]

3, 9, 12, 15, 21, 25 27 and 43 for street kid Val and Travis please and A B and F for you💚💚

Thank you so much for the asks, @faepunkprince! 💚💚💚 From the Uncommon Questions for OCs & their creators ask:

3. How do they put themselves to bed at night (reading, singing, thinking?)

Val burrows under the covers and looks at her phone until her eyes droop and she finally puts it away.

Travis usually drinks until he passes out.

9. Do they swear? Do they remember their first swear word?

Abso-fucking-lutely for both of them. Val doesn't remember. Travis was 5 the first time he remembers swearing intentionally; he said "give me a fucking break" to his grandma and that's when he learned to never swear in front of her again. She died thinking he was an angel.

12. How do they deal with an itch found in a place they can’t quite reach?

Val will ignore it; eventually it will go away.

Travis will rub up against furniture or fixtures like a cat.

15. How do they speak? Is what they say usually thought of on the spot, or do they rehearse it in their mind first?

Val is so self-conscious that she rehearses everything she says and she still feels like an idiot when she opens her mouth.

Travis is the opposite -- so self-important that he thinks everything he says is gold, even when he knows that he's spinning bullshit.

21. Why do they get up in the morning?

Before canon, Val does it because she loved the challenge of netrunning and creating her own quickhacks. After the events of the game, it's to redeem herself to the Aldecaldos (and to find a cure).

Travis wakes up every morning because he's always got some scheme running, usually involving making eddies fast and cheap and/or seducing his latest target.

25. What are their thoughts on marriage?

Val is skeptical. She hasn't seen a successful marriage, and she doubts she will find someone who she will want to spend all her time with. (Spoiler: she does, and yes, she does want to get married.)

You can hear Travis's laughter all the way out in The Badlands.

27. What causes them to feel dread?

Val fears leaving Mitch alone if when she dies. She still carries the burden of Driss's death, and she doesn't want to put him through that again, especially so soon.

Travis fears having to account for all his sins (and they are multitude). Though he isn't religious, his devout Catholic grandmother who raised him was, and she really did a number on him. Good thing he never stops for long enough to think about that.

43. If someone asked them to explain their sexuality, how would they do so?

Val: "Like, who would I date? Anyone. More about the connection. Helps if we're friends first."

Travis: "If it's got a hole, I'll fuck it."

A) Why are you excited about this character?

Gonna answer this for Val. She is the first OC I've actually developed. In the past when I wrote about an OC, they were primarily the vehicle for the romance I didn't get story I wanted to tell. As they weren't the real subject of my story, I never felt the need to develop them beyond what canon provided, other than to add a few details as necessary. Val is the first OC who took on a life of their own. When I started my longfic No One's Gonna Love You (aka NOGLY), I didn't know a thing about Val other than the canon events. Somewhere along the line, she became more than just a way for me to romance Mitch. She became real.

I've also really enjoyed thinking about alternate lifepaths. Her Corpo lifepath still starts the same, but diverges at 14. I'd like to create a Nomad version as well, though I have enough writing on my plate as it is with the corpo longfic and the eventual NOGLY sequel. 😅

B) What inspired you to create them?

The previous answer also kinda covers Val, so I'll go with Travis here. Honestly, I wanted a poor little meow meow. A babygirl. I didn't have any real ideas for him other than I wanted to use the 6th Street tattoos, and that he would be Val's ex. His creation helped me further develop Val's teenage years when she joined 6th Street briefly because of him.

F) What do you feel when you think of your OC (pride, excitement, frustration, etc)?

Pride and excitement! I'm proud of her as a character that I've written, and I'm legit excited that people like her, even if it's only because she's fucking cute. 😏

[bradshawsbaby]

No surprise that the Tellers had the most stunning looking wedding 🤍

[mrsluthordanvers]

This may seem like a really random question but has writing and reading femslash helped you come into your sexual and/or gender identities? I've been in the Supergirl fandom and other primarily f/f fandoms for quite some time and this is something that I've been wondering about recently.

Yes!!

This got really long, and really rambly, and probably tells more about my experience with fandom then you needed to know to answer this question. But here it is lol

I grew up in a relatively conservative and catholic family with limited access to media both bc of this and bc my family was low income. I remember as a little kid we only had a couple channels and when we did get cable when I was older, my parents would stop pay for it during summer months because they wanted us to go outside.

The only gay media I remember ever seeing growing up in my parents house was Imagine Me & You. I caught it once on TV and I have vivid memories of realizing what I was watching and sitting on the edge of the couch paranoid that my parents would come downstairs and catch me watching it. I remember setting up the remote so that when I hit the quick back button it would take me back to some cartoon channel. And glee. Which I was surprisingly actually allowed to watch. I was always waiting for it to get turned off but it never was.

Both my parents were very big on encouraging reading. When we asked for books, it was almost the only time I don’t remember being told no. I remember I spent tons of time in libraries as a kid and it was one of the only places I was allowed to go after school by myself when I was in junior high. And I loved to write, my mom was always asking her to tell me stories and I was always writing in journals.

Basically what I’m saying is that I really did Not have exposure to the gay community. And looking back it seems really natural that I started reading and writing femslash.

It took me a long time to get into though, and to seek out. Instead I was sneaking Nora Roberts books out of the library at grade 7 because they had sex in them. Sex, I thought, that was safe/healthy/whatever because these were the books my sister was reading. Plus my mom said they were too mature for me, and what’s a better motivator then being told no. I didn’t find famslash until very late into high school bc it never even occur to me that I could be reading cheesy romances that were f/f instead.

My first experience actually reading femslash was Rizzles fics on ff.net. I honestly have no idea how I found it bc at the time I couldn’t have told you what fandom was, or that tumblr existed. The only thing I remember knowing about fanfic was that if you said you read fanfic people assumed you were reading about weird sex about characters and would laugh at you. Honestly I might have only found fanfics bc glee was really big at the same time and I was probably hearing people talk about ships and fanfic even if I don’t remember it now. Either way I found it lol. And I read A Lot of rizzoli and isles fics.

And it helped. Towards the end of high school was when it really started to dawn on me that I might like girls and I didn’t have words for it, I didn’t know there was a community, and there certainly wasn’t people I was willing to ask.

Reading femslash was like opening a door. Suddenly I was being introduced to the same kind of cheesy romance writing I was already reading. I was being introduced to the idea of two women going on dates. Having healthy relationships. Having unhealthy relationships. Soft sex. Rough sex. Falling in love. Getting married. Having kids. And it really started to solidify that I liked women.

Up until that point the idea of being gay scared the fuck out of me bc what I knew was so limited, to me being gay = being alone. It meant I wasn’t allowed to have any of those things and I really resisted that.

Reading femslash was a big part of changing that perspective. It made me comfortable enough to tell a girl at 19 I had a crush on her. It helped me feel like it was okay to tell people I wasn’t straight when I went to university. It prompted me to search out more gay media when I went to university. I started to watch glee again. I watched DEBS, and Imagine Me and You, and Saving Face, and Gray Matters, and Bloomington, and Kissing Jessica Stein, and Loving Annabelle. Basically I went through the LGBT section of Netflix in a year. 

A friend introduced me to tumblr and told me there was a big gay community. I followed some cool people and aesthetic blogs but honestly I still wasn’t quite finding it.

Then I watched The 100 while it was in season 2 in my last year of university. Completely unaware of Clarke and Lexa. I became obsessed lol. They kissed on screen and it was like a switch went off. I don’t know why it was that show instead of anything else I had been watching that spurred me on. But it did. I started looking up accounts on tumblr and following people and reading so so so much fanfic. I had started to find that vast community on tumblr my friend mentioned and started sending people asks and saw people actually answering asks, and posting their art and their writing. It encouraged me to try writing again, and ask a couple people if they would read stuff I posted.

And then supergirl came out and I was soooo excited for it that I started to try mimicking accounts I saw in the clexa fandom. I figured out how to make gifsets, and I liveblogged, and my friend told me to make a side fandom blog or she’d unfollow me lmao. Which I also didn’t know people did. I started this blog just before season 2 happened and it made for the perfect storm. I already had a small following, I was making content (even if it wasn’t great), and Lena got introduced. And suddenly I REALLY discovered how vast the gay community is bc it was suddenly knocking at my door. It was also a big BIG learning curve.

I was reading people’s fanfics and looking at their fanart. I was seeing depictions of different sexualities. And how two characters can be interpreted in such vastly different ways. I was being shown perspectives I hadn’t seen before, some that made me stop and go. Oh. It helped me identify my first label, and then also taught me labels can change, and mine did. I wasn’t just reading fics about two women in a relationship, I was opening fics and seeing me. I saw a piece of fanart of Butch Kara and thought, she looks like me. And then I started to see people writing about butch Kara and commenting about butch Kara and it wasn’t just, she looks like me. It became she looks like me, and that is desirable. And that gave me confidence. I stopped shaving, my wardrobe has started to change, I started buying things I wanted to wear not that I thought I should wear. I learned I wanted people to see me and think I was handsome or attractive before they thought I pretty or cute lol

Writing femslash has a different kind of self reflection. I like to think I have started to notice when I project things on to characters, and think about why those things are important to me. Or why I get defensive over certain headcanons. All things that have made me step back and look at my own sexuality and gender identity. Which honestly I’m still figuring out and is still changing, but I’ve learned that’s okay too (fanfic has also normalized that for me lol)

Art is meant to make you feel things, think about things. I don’t think fanfic or fanart is any different. Sometimes it is just meant to make you feel you horny and sometimes it makes you reflect on whether or not you might be butch. Personally I think it’s very cool that it’s so powerful

[mother-snake]

cut you a piece

(oh boy! its been a hot second since ive posted a story... hope you enjoy! tell me if i need to tag somthing!)

tags: @idkanameatall warnings: angst, majour carachter death. tw self hurt, tw soup of slide. adult language words: 7488

-why was janus the way he is... and what can happen when you lose everything youve ever known.-

Janus, he was fucked up, and Romulus he was pureless. So of course they fell in love.

Self-preservation smiled as he sat next to Romulus. The two had known each other for around a week. Both of them had hit it off almost immediately. both of them not liked by the others. but they were okay with that, after all they had each other.

They were sitting there next to one another. Romulus was drawing something that had happened in the imagination. self-preservation was scribbling down names on a sheet of paper. He was yet to find one that he liked. It was difficult.

He let out a small sigh as he looked down at the note book that seemed filled with different names. None of them seemed right. he crossed out the ones that seemed to plain. The ones that were hard to pronounce.

“hey! Are you alright?” Romulus asked his friend.

Said side blinked. He hadn’t realised he had begun to cry. “I’m fine,” he said as he rubbed the tears out of his eyes.

Romulus picked up the book and read some of the names. A small grin on his face as he kept reading. “what about Janus?” he said finally as he put down the notebook in his lap. “that’s a girl’s name though,” self-preservation pouted. “no! j-a-n-u-s. as in the god of half-truths!” he cheered at the scaled side.

He pondered this name for a couple seconds. Slowly a warm smile lit up his face as he looked at Romulus. The smile becoming infectious along with the happiness rolling of him. “okay then! Janus it is,” he said with a wide smile, “don’t tell the others though. Shh!” whispered. “okay,” Romulus whispered back.

Both of them giggled as they leaned their heads on one another. both of them completely content with what little they had.

Because to them…each other was enough.

Romulus let Janus know what was wrong with him. And Janus stopped using, and binging, and pissing his whole life away.

Romulus wasn’t happy with any of the sides. When he got the chance, he would bash them over the head with his shield.

Why? I hear you asking. Right now, Janus was crying into his shoulder. Tears set off by their reaction to what he had hoped to never happen.

His once bleach white scales had changed to what he considered a pretty yellow. Sunflower yellow. he held his Janus close. The two of them had been dating since Janus’s second month of creation. Both of them had never gone anywhere without the other nearby.

Not that either minded. They actually found peace in knowing where the other was in these times.

“Janus? Its okay, you’re okay… they can’t hurt you as long as I’m here. Okay?” “I know…” he got in response as Janus sniffed.

He looked up to Romulus with red puffy eyes. The anger in Romulus’s stomach swelled. “let’s give them a visit, shall we my sunflower?” Romulus said slyly as he held out his arm.

Janus let out a small laugh and looped his arm around Romulus’s. said side pulled the other closer. “no, I wouldn’t like that,” he smiled widely.

But before they could get to the door there was a sharp knock at the door of creativity’s door. They looked at one another before Romulus ushered Janus behind himself.

“Romulus? De- self-preservation?” oh morality. “we need you guys quick! There’s a new side here!” he yelled, his voice both a mix of concern and excitement.

They looked between one another. There hadn’t been a new side since Janus appeared. And that had been apparently very unexpected.

Both of them ran next to each other as the door burst open. Romulus mildly confused on how Janus could run so easily in heel shoes. Janus was just focused on the fact there was a side with the light sides.

Scared that he would be treated the same way he and Romulus were. when they arrived, they stopped and stared at the side that hissed at logic like a cat. “I’m sorry, did you just hiss at me?” logic asked looking flabbergasted at the new side.

A wide smile grew on Janus’s face as he let out his own hiss. Grabbing the attention of the new side. the small child looked up to Janus who gave another small hiss. a hiss this time was directed at him. This one wasn’t as animalistic. But more friendly.

Janus and Romulus nodded to one another and held out their hands. the small child ran into their arms. “welcome to our dysfunctional family,” Janus mumbled as he hugged the smaller form.

And Janus told Romulus he'd die for him, Which looking back, was the right thing to say.

Janus sat there listening to music blaring from cautions room. Him and the newest addition, wrath, had gotten into another argument and it wasn’t pretty. He had witnessed the end of it.

He was positioned at the side of Virgil’s door. Waiting for the other to calm down. He hoped they would. “hey, you okay there?” Romulus asked.

Janus let out a sigh, “I’m alright. Just waiting for the two small hatchlings to calm down. It may take a while by the sounds of it,” he chuckled. “I think Thomas starting high school is getting the best of them.” He said.

“yeah… I can tell,” Romulus said, hiding his hand in his pocket; He could tell the other later. Romulus smiled and kissed his cobra on the head before turning around. “hey, Romulus? Id cut you a piece of me,” he said slowly, almost singing. “what?” “id cut you a piece of me, and where you go, I will go too. Yes… I’m now a part of you,” he smiled. Romulus felt tears pouring out of his eyes as he surged forwards and hugged Janus tightly around the shoulders. “how long?” Janus muttered into his shoulder. “a couple years at best. But no longer I’m afraid…” he muttered into Janus’s shoulder.

They didn’t do anything but hold each other. Romulus knew lying to his queen wouldn’t work. It never did. And as self-preservation. Something like this was bound to become loose. With or without him saying anything.

“I am now a part of you,” Romulus muttered.

I cut you a piece of me, I cut you a piece of me. And where you go, I will go too. Yes, I am now a part of you

They laughed as they sat around the screen. A movie had been chosen by Patton. but one was caught up in their thoughts. Not much had changed since everyone had found out that Romulus wouldn’t be around for long. and that made Janus feel things he didn’t want to feel. He tried his best to repress everything he was feeling. He knew it was causing him harm.

He found himself snapping at the kids and others more. he was scared. He was going to lose his best friend. Nothing else seemed to matter more at that moment.

“hey, sunflower,” Romulus said calmly as he wrapped an arm around Janus. Janus felt himself sobbing as his lover held him close. He buried his head in his chest. this had been the first time any of the others had seen Janus cry in front of them.

Romulus held Janus close. He was the only one who knew that this was almost a daily occurrence now. He didn’t want to leave his queen behind. If he could stop what was happening. He would. But there was very little in his power

Romulus pulled Janus closer. He wouldn’t leave Janus like this. He wanted to go out with a bang. And that’s exactly what he would do. “marry me,” he said as Janus slowly began to calm down. “what?” Janus asked shocked. “marry me,” Romulus said again, “I’ll be honest I would have waited till Thomas left high school. But with things going on now. Now is never a better time- “ “yes…” Janus said before wrapping his arms around Romulus’s neck ad pulling him close and into a kiss.

The lights looked at the two love birds wondering how they could have been so cruel to the both of them for so long…

Caution and wrath cheered at the scene in front of them. God, they had been close to forcing the two turtle doves to marry. They were perfect for one another.

But perfection doesn’t last. that was something they learned the hard way…

Janus and his romulus, got married in his temple, Cause they calculated,

The wedding was by no means small. they had it in the imagination. Something that had been a surprise when Romulus had offered to have it there.

It seemed everyone in the imagination knew of the event. and as soon as he had entered it seemed as if everyone knew who he was. the whispers of him becoming Romulus’s second hand was a surprise. But he guessed that was understandable with Remus being king creativity.

Laughter rung in the air as people danced and children played. Each person swelled with so much joy and happiness that their king had found someone to stay at his side. if only they knew…

Janus and Romulus sat on chairs at the very front of the castle. The party being outside to make room for everyone there.

“thank you,” a young boy whispered to Janus as Romulus stood up to talk to someone. “may I ask what for?” he said slyly getting a smile out of the young boy. “for making the king so happy!” he cheered. “I should be thanking him for making me so happy,” Janus said, “I don’t know where I’d be without my king,” he chuckled as he ruffled the young boys hair.

“would you care for a dance?” the young boys eyes lit up like stars and he almost dragged Janus by the arm and into the crowd.

Romulus spotted him from the crowd and let out a hearty laugh as he spotted his sunflower. Giving and encouraging wink. Janus stuck out his tongue in response.

The people around laughed as they watched their two rulers, their hearts warming knowing that the kingdom was in safe hands.

But… alas… time was slowly running out.

That Jules was more Jewish than Jessie was Catholic. Jules mother was pleased.

Janus knew that Romulus was slowly becoming weaker. Spending more time in his room than anywhere else. the two spent the winter curled up around one another. Glued to each other’s side. Christmas had been an event and a half. With Janus and Romulus teaming up and decimating the others in a snowball fight. Janus ended up getting a cold that very afternoon. But he was okay with that.

Valentines day had been spent handing roses to the people of Romulus and now Janus’s kingdom. hand in hand they had become something that neither thought could happen.

And then it began… his hair had slowly begun to turn grey… it was small at first. Just small strands here and there. He also found himself struggling to pick up heavy things that he could have picked up easily before.

Janus found himself glued to Romulus. then one day they found themselves wondering the streets of the city. People smiled and waved at the two of them happily. Greetings were shared and smiles returned.

It had been a perfect day so far. The sun was blazing down on Janus. Warming his scales perfectly. His cold bloodedness often caused him issues.

then everything seemed to go slow motion.

“hey… sweetheart… why is everything spinning?” he muttered. “my king nothing- Romulus!” he yelled as he caught his lover as his knees buckled and gave out below him.

He felt his breathing picking up as he laid Romulus gently to the ground. Everything else was forgotten.

Black streaks rose from his neck. Half of his right cheek was covered in the almost inky looking patches. Janus was panicking internally. But keeping as calm as possible on the outside. “come on sweetie… you’re going to be okay… let’s get back to the castle…” no one around said a thing. everyone worried for their king and queen who had only been married for five months.

Janus knew time was running short. He just didn’t know how short it would be.

Married six months, when on route 87, Janus turned quickly,

Janus didn’t leave Romulus’s room unless necessary. Virgil and Orpheus bringing him meals as he sat by his lovers’ side. His face now almost completely covered in the blackness that seemed to make him look like a void.

Janus hadn’t spoken very much. Romulus had looked at Janus with so much joy every time he woke up. small snippets of his memory disappearing daily. but never forgetting Janus. It seemed like him mind couldn’t forget him. And he was fine with that. It would be nice to remember his lover at his final moments.

Janus had been startled out of his thoughts when Romulus reached a hand out and nudged Janus. “yes Romulus?” “can I see them? One last time?” he asked his eyes weak and barely focusing. “…okay…” Janus said, trying to keep himself together.

He scooped Romulus up into his arms. It scared him how light his king was. he looked over to the face of Romulus that was almost hidden by his growing hair that was so dark now it almost matched his skin.

“let’s go, my love.”

In a beaten mitsubishi, killed romulus in a crash. A marriage begun and ended,

He walked through the streets. Barely keeping himself together as silent tears poured down his face.

The people moved out of their way, bowing their own heads. Tears streaking down their faces as they looked on in mourning.

When they arrived at the main balcony of the castle, facing where the sun had always set. and there it was, going down over head.

Romulus had his head in Janus’s lap. A weak smile on his face as he looked at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. “I cut you a piece of me…” he sung. “Romulus?” Janus’s voiced cracked. “I cut you a piece of me… and where you go, I will go too. Yes… I’m now a part of you,” he sung weakly. “I’m now a part of you.  From now on I’m half a soul, without you I can't be whole, “Janus sung back. tears pouring out of his eyes. “oh you are the start of me…”

Romulus smiled as he looked at the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. His sunflower looking at him with a simile and love in his eyes. “goodbye my queen,” he whispered. “goodbye my king,” Janus choked out.

Janus cried out loudly in pain as he felt Romulus go limp in his arms. Wails of despair filled the air. the people below heard the cries of sorrow and tried to block out the gut-wrenching noise that seemed to cause everyone else to cry for the loss of their young king.

Everyone lined the streets. Holding red and green lanterns in their hands before sending them to the sky. Each one holding a small message written on the inside. Hoping that maybe it would reach their king.

Janus saw the lanterns flood the skies and smiled ever so slightly. He wouldn’t be alone. He had everyone here… but. No… he wouldn’t. no. he couldn’t return.

Romulus had long since faded. Leaving only his cloak and crown behind. a warm smile on Janus’s face. he had left his cape behind. He had always been forgetful.

He flung the caplet over his shoulders and stood up removing the crown that rested on his brow and placed it next to Romulus’s.

“goodbye my love… perhaps we may meet again in another life…”

With broken glass. His life was scattered, and soon was her ash

Janus looked dead. That was the first thing Virgil realised when Janus left Romulus’s room.

Virgil still couldn’t help but ask, “how is he?” Janus couldn’t look Virgil in the eyes, “he’s in a better place now,” he said weakly. Virgil surged forwards within seconds. Wrapping his arms around his pops. He himself didn’t know how to feel. He had never been overly close to Romulus like self-preservation had.

But he knew now more than ever that he was needed. And he swore to himself that in that moment. He would stay and protect his pops from anything that would come their way. “come, would you like me to tell the others?” Virgil asked.

Janus could only nod. Not trusting himself to say the wrong thing. it was then that he realised that Janus was waring Romulus’s cape. Heh. His dad had always been forgetful. But a small part of him knew that it had been deliberate.

The walk seemed daunting to Janus. This was one of the few times he had been anywhere without Romulus by his side. but now? There would be no one. Just himself it seemed despite the fact he knew he had his children by his side.

He felt the silent tears pour down his face. but he didn’t care.

Then he heard laughter. Virgil gave a small smile and walked ahead of his father.

There at the living room table was Logan, Patton and Orpheus. All eyes turned to the two of them. “how is he?” Patton asked.

Janus felt himself shaking as he pulled the caplet closer. Had the mind palace always been this cold?

“he…” Virgil began, “he passed away.” no one said a thing. As there was nothing to say… Patton felt something in his chest tighten. He could feel the amount og grievance coming of Janus. He was surprised the other was holding himself together. Logan… well. He didn’t know what to do. There was no logical way to help Janus unless he could find a way to bring Romulus back. Orpheus stared at Janus. Stared at his pops who was now widowed. He knew this would be a hard take on everyone. But this would be devastating on Janus’s behalf.

The silence stretched onwards. No one could say anything it seemed. but Janus couldn’t take it anymore. The silane wasn’t something he was used to. So, he took a couple steps away from the group, turned around and bolted to his room. The cries of everyone behind him were ignored as he closed his door.

He locked it and felt himself sink to the ground. his eyes darted around his room. He wanted to be safe. He didn’t like the cold he was feeling. He wanted to be held and have someone at his side.

He laid down on his bed, ignoring the pounding that came from outside the door and slipped under the covers. Holding the caplet as close to himself as possible. maybe if he had waited another couple hour’s, he would have met the two new sides… but, right now. Weather he knew it or not. He needed the sleep. and for the first time in forever he fell asleep, exhausted from crying. But that was okay… he would get used to the empty feeling eventually.

He may have wanted Romulus… but he knew he wasn’t coming back.

I cut you a piece of me, I cut you a piece of me. And where you go, I will go too. I lost my life when I lost you.

It had been a month. Janus barely spoke. But when he did it was always in lies. he had made them forget. He had made them believe that the twins had been there the whole time. He felt like he had betrayed Romulus. but it was for the best.

“hello my dear snake face!” creativity one cheered as he saw Janus walking to the kitchen. Janus let out a wince. He hated it when jabs were sent to his scales. “what don’t you want creativity?” he glowered. “come now, why do you refuse my name?” creativity said. Janus couldn’t respond but kept walking. Trying his best to ignore the other side. Janus froze as creativity 1 kept taking, “listen. Can you just not leave me alone. I don’t need my space,” he snapped at the red sashed side.

Roman seemed taken back by the words but his features softened, “very well my dear snake, I bid you farewell!” and as quickly as he was there. he was gone.

Janus sighed as he made his way down the quiet hallway. He knew that the others were trying to give him space, not knowing anymore why his mood had shifted so dramatically. from happy to so sad that Patton could barely spend five minuets in the same room as him before he accidentally starts to cry from the overwhelming sadness coming from him.

He looked blankly onwards towards the kitchen. He was after another bottle of wine. It helped numb the pain. he knew Romulus would have slapped him on the head by now and told him to tone it down with the spicy grape juice. But… well. He wasn’t.

And things hadn’t been going well to put it simply. ever since the twins arrived. he knew it was only a matter of time before the place split into two. And he knew that when it happened things would only get more difficult. Especially if he was stuck with one of the twins.

Don’t get him wrong. He loved the two to pieces. But it hurt to see them every day. So much of Romulus was in them it hurt to look at. roman had Romulus’s eyes and Remus had his chaotic personality.

Maybe if they hadn’t reminded him so much of his lost love, he would not need to cry himself to sleep, or hold up the illusion that he was okay. but he needed to stay strong. That was a fact he needed to keep up.

However, things wouldn’t be so normal anymore. Not after today. he was aware of yelling coming from the Livingroom. the same direction roman had gone in. but he didn’t think much of it…  that was until he entered the room however and froze. Orpheus was yelling at roman who looked ready to rip his head off.

“so what? At least he cares about us!” Orpheus yelled. “deceit is nothing but a lair and you know it!” roman yelled back, “he’s plotting something against us all. Why else the sudden mood shift?”

Janus stared at roman from his spot by the door. His chest aching from the words that had fallen from his mouth.

Then he felt nothing. Just an empty place where everything other emotion should have been. he stared blankly in his direction. “don’t worry creativity. You won’t be seeing much of me for a long time,” he said sharply before turning around and walking away.

Roman said nothing in response. Instead just looked at the spot where the side had been.

Orpheus shoved roman to the floor and spat next to him. “if you come near any of us again. I WILL put your head on a pike,”

That was the last time for years that he would see either side. and dinner that day would be the last time he would see Virgil and his brother. both deciding that it wasn’t worth staying with people who didn’t care.

And thus, the divide happened. No one would realise until the morning. With a single door cutting both sides away from each other.

Yeah you loved someone so much. That to lose them is to never recover,

It had been a month. Virgil, Remus and Orpheus were gathered in the Livingroom on the floor playing monopoly. No one seemed to be close to winning. Each side cheating in their own way.

Janus sat on the couch with a glass of wine. He watched blankly. Not saying a single word. He hadn’t spoken since roman had taken the major jab at him.

He glared at the cup in hand. He hated repressing his feelings. And normally wine would work… but he guesses his tolerance had built up greatly.

He let out a sigh and drooped his shoulders. He closed his eyes and felt the cold wave wash over him. Then there was nothing inside of him. He opened his eyes and looked over to the dark sides who glanced over at him. they knew what he had just done. But they had stopped trying to stop him a long time ago.

“still don’t know why you enjoy repressing your feelings,” Remus said, “repression never works,” “I know…” Janus whispered back. the entire mini group froze, their eyes snapping to Janus. “I just need to feel numb sometimes… its better than feeling what I feel…” he said as he looked at them.

It felt like the first time they had seen him properly since the door was put in place. his eyes looked almost dead. His once pale yellow scaled had become a dirty gold, pecks of brown mixed in.

He let out a short sigh before standing up and walking away. A hand rested itself upon his shoulder but he simply shrugged it off and continued on his way. he had work to get done. God knows what the light sides were getting Thomas to do.

Virgil looked at Janus as he left the room with wide eyes. Janus’s cold emotionless gaze imprinted in his mind. he wanted to know what had happened to his pops over the past six months. He had changed…he had changed so much and it scared him.

Remus looked at where Janus was and glanced down at his hands. had it been his fault Janus was like this? Did he himself do something or was it something worse?

Orpheus couldn’t look in their direction. He hated being able to do nothing. Especially when his pops was in such a state. It sent spikes into his heart. Yeah, he knew what it was like to have emotions you didn’t want. It sucked.

But at least all three of them would be there to help him.

You've given part of your being to them and when they Go, you can never have it back you can never have it back.

Janus was starting to panic. And that was an understatement. Ever since Virgil had revealed himself, he was slowly spending more time with the light sides. It had gotten to the point where Janus was only seeing him early in the mornings or late at night.

Every time they talked it always ended with an argument. Orpheus or Remus would have to break them up sometimes.

That’s how Janus found himself. Cradling himself in his bed. Wrapped in his blanket. Tears pouring down his face as his right eye was closed shut. An ice pack held closely to his eye. it was black and purple. Punched by someone with pure anger.

Orpheus had sided with Virgil. And he would be lying if he said he didn’t feel so lonely. It felt like that day all over again. Maybe the pain came from the fact it was supposed to be Romulus’s birthday today.

Maybe that’s why he snapped at the both of them. He regretted everything that had slipped out of his mouth during their yelling match.

His eyes glanced over to the bowler hat sat at the table.

“eh, hats aren’t really my thing you see,” Romulus said as he looked at Janus. “but why are you giving it to me of all people?” Janus asked curiously looking at a blushing Romulus. “its been a year since we’ve known each other. I thought it would be nice to get you something.” “but… I didn’t get you anything!” Janus said woefully. “I’ve got you! that’s all I need!” Romulus said as he playfully punched Janus’s arm.

Janus looked away and stared at the grey sheets covering him. Wincing as the ice pack sent spikes of pain into his injury.

God, what would Romulus say if he were here… he wondered who’s side he would take.

Three small knocks sounded from his door. “come in,” he said smally.

The door creaked open to reveal a rather shy Remus. Janus felt a wave of guilt spread through his soul. The poor thing never knew what to do in these kinds of situations. “come here,” he muttered as he patted the space next to him.

Remus gave a smile and made his way over. Tucking himself next to Janus. The scaled side wrapped an arm around the smaller side, holding him close. “deceit?” Remus said. “mph,” he hummed back. “I’m sorry,” he said.

Janus glanced to Remus with a raised eyebrow. “I’m sorry. I know you’re going through a difficult patch right now… I can feel your destructiveness coming of you. I don’t know why you’re like this. But if ever you need to talk… I’m here. Even if I can be fucking weird about it.”

Janus felt the tears beginning to fall once again. at least he still had Remus he guessed. “Janus,” he whispered as he looked to a rather shocked Remus. “what?” “my name… its Janus.”

Remus looked at Janus with wide eyes. He had never known his name. he was pretty sure no one knew his name until this second. “you can’t tell the others. please,” Janus said. “I promise,” Remus said with a sharp nod.

The two stayed like that for what felt like forever until Janus fell asleep in Remus’s embrace. the intrusive side was almost surprised to see Janus looking so peaceful as he slept.

Had this really been how he had once been? His memory was blurry. Not all there, and sometimes he could swear he didn’t do half the things his mind had told him he did.

And for some reason. He felt like he had never seen… Janus… so calm. So… dare he say; peaceful.

 I haven't thought of Jules, or Jessie, Or their story in the better part of a year.

Janus was slumped against the wall as he stared at where Virgil and Orpheus’s doors should have been. An empty bottle of wine sat by his side. god… he really was a fuck up. wasn’t he? He couldn’t keep himself in check. Relying on numbing himself with drink or his own power.

“hey… you okay there?” Remus asked Janus. a memory struck him sharply in the chest. why did he have to look so much like Romulus?!

He turned his head back to the wall. Glaring at where the door should have been. he didn’t want to have any memories right now. It would only cause him to cry once again. It seemed to be the only thing he had done for the past week. Waiting and praying that his children would come back…

But he knew that it wouldn’t happen. He had lost almost everything… Romulus…Orpheus…Virgil…his happiness… his love for things…his ability to feel.

The last thing he had was Remus. And that felt like its own personal hell. Don get him wrong. He had grown to love the side like his own child. But when he looks at him now? All he sees Is a young Romulus with a moustache.

He couldn’t look at him anymore. He couldn’t feel anymore. He didn’t want to continue like this… “don’t think like that,” Remus growled, snapping Janus out of his own mind. “you’re supposed to be self-preservation correct? Then help Thomas. Get out of the shadows you’ve trapped yourself in. or at least find a healthier distraction. For god’s sake, go and piss off my brother!” Remus yelled hysterically. “fucking get of the floor and tell me how to help you!”

Janus stared at Remus. Help Thomas? Would it really be a good idea… unless… “I have an idea? But I need your help,” Janus said.

A small spark lighting up in his eyes. Remus grinned as he looked at the deceitful side. He didn’t think he had seen the side looking almost excited about anything.

“what do you need?” “morality’s old outfit. If Thomas really wants to make a fool of himself, I would know… lets sort that out.”

Remus held out a hand and Janus took it. “well, for starters… his name is Patton. Logic is Logan as well. You ought to know that if you’re going to get away with this…”

Yeah… he didn’t need much. but Remus was enough for now. And that was okay.

But warming your hands in mine fills me with terror, That I will lose you, today, or tomorrow, in two years, or seventy.

Janus was beyond frustrated. What would it take for them to listen to him!? he had been trying his best to get the others to finally listen to him. God damn it he even tried his own way at the court room to get their host to listen to him. But of course, he was the villain. He was always the fucking villain.

“hey Janus guess what I found-“Remus said as he skipped into his room before freezing.

He had spent the past couple hours in the imagination. So, it was only reasonable that he wouldn’t know what was happening. That didn’t stop him from worrying and rushing over.

“sorry, I shouldn’t be crying over something like this…” “don’t apologise for having fucking feelings,” Remus said as he patted Janus’s shoulder.

They sat quietly next to each other. Neither said anything or a while. Just basking in each other’s company.

It was reaching the half an hour mark when Janus remembered. “why where you here again?” “oh right!” Remus grinned before reaching into his leather bag. Janus would never nor would he want to know what that bag was made of… that didn’t stop him from having suspicions though. “here they are!”

Janus felt himself lose his breath. “I found them in the ruins of some old castle, pretty cool right?”

Two matching silver crowns laid in Remus’s lap. One imprinted with a sword and shield. The other with his own symbol. The snake’s eyes however being a single ruby and emerald. “I guess you have questions?” Janus said in what was barely an audible whisper. “you bet your fucking ass I want answers. Tell me everything, and don’t think of lying to me Janus.”

He reached out and cradled the crown in his hand, took a deep breath. And began to recall everything he had tried so hard to repress over the past three years. Coming onto four. Remus listened closely. Taking in everything Janus said. Thoughts and feelings swarmed his mind and body.

But he couldn’t make himself angry. No matter how hard he tried. As Janus was sitting by his side. Smiling and laughing and looking years younger than he had looked in well… forever.

“he left and I broke. No matter how hard I tried. I couldn’t be happy without him there,” Janus said as he looked over to Remus.

the green coloured side looked at Janus. Both had tears in their eyes. “is that why you couldn’t look at me for so long? Because I reminded you of him?” he said, voice cracking. “yeah… god between you and roman, you really looked like him. And it hurt. But… I guess I just needed to get over it, like a wall I suppose. The first couple times can be hard, but you’ve just got to keep pushing forwards,” Janus said.

He looked down to the crown in his hands. he gestured for Remus to take it from his hands. “no,” Remus said as he laid the other crown in Janus’s lap, “they mean far more to you than me.”

For the first time in a long time… Janus was at peace. Sure, things were far from fine.  God knows it couldn’t be worse. But right now? He was content with just having Remus.

“If you have any more questions… ill be happy to answer them.

When even the Earth has numbered days. I can give just one thing that stays.

he fucked up. there standing in front of him was a teary-eyed Remus… oh god… what the fuck had he done. “do you really think I’m evil?” Remus said as tears poured down his face. “Remus- “Janus said as he reached out an arm. he flinched back as Remus summoned his mace. He held it in his hands. malic filled his eyes. he took a couple steps back. “follow me. and I won’t hesitate,” Remus said as he made his way over to the door that split the mind palace.

“Remus please. I’m sorry. Please. I can’t lose you too… please- “ “maybe you should have been more careful deceit,” Remus snarled before opening the door and slamming it behind himself.

Janus felt himself crumple to the ground; he didn’t know how much he was shaking. He didn’t care that he could barely breath.

He was alone… it was cold… there was no one. He was no one… nothing mattered. he felt nothing.

He wanted his king…he wanted someone to tell him he was okay. He wanted someone to look at him and tell him to get a grip.

he wanted Virgil… but he wouldn’t forgive him… he wanted Orpheus… but he would never trust him… he wanted Remus… but he would never look at him again… he wanted Romulus… but he knew he was never coming back…

and as he cried himself to sleep on the floor…. He had never felt more like a monster.

I cut you a piece of me, I cut you a piece of me. For where you go, I will go too. I am now a part of you.

Janus winced as the metal slid over his skin. Small trickles of ruby red fell from his arm like red stained tears. Screaming from his skin told him to stop. but he couldn’t.

He had been alone for a couple months now. It was an hour away from midnight. Signifying the death of his lover. he wanted a hug. He wanted someone to hold him as he cried.

What he wanted he didn’t deserve. He was the villain. He was the monster in the closet. and it was fine. At least he was something. Even if it hurt…

He hadn’t been summoned in such a long time. It had been the barely less since he had seen another side. he was scared that they had forgotten about him. Some nights, like today, he could hear laughter coming from the other side. And that was enough for him to know he wasn’t wanted.

They were fine without him. maybe it would be better to go completely. Joining Romulus instead of staying where he wasn’t wanted.

The empty wine bottles that were around him no longer were able to do their job.

He shook as the cold air froze his skin. It had been a while since he had turned the thermostat down. He deserved it though.

The thought of being able to see Romulus filled his head. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t feeling slightly giddy at the thought. Getting to see his best friend of so many years once again, but for eternity.

A small weak laugh filled the air as Janus stood up and made his way over to his room. He looked down at the bowler hat that sat neatly at the end of his bed.

He picked it up and dusted it off before placing it on his head. Trying his best to ignore the shiny objects that rested in their own cases in the back of the room.

The only question was where. Where would he go to do this? an idea struck him in the chest… yeah… that would be perfect… all he needed was to make a plan. no letters were needed, the others wouldn’t care enough to wonder where he had gone.

From now on I’m half a soul, without you I can't behold. So cut me a piece of you, Cut me a piece of you, and where I go, you'll always be.

It had been a struggle, trying to sneak into the imagination. But it had been much harder to find what he was looking for.

The buildings were broken. Barely standing. Vines and shrubbery grew out of cracks. It broke his heart to see that this is what had become of his kingdom. he thought once that it would stand forever. But nothing ever did. Did it?

Janus chuckled as memories filled his mind.

The streets him and Romulus would wonder for hours, talking and smiling with their subjects. the town square where he had danced at every Halloween with everyone around him. A wide smile on his face.

The castle grounds where he had danced wit the young boy who had thanked him for looking after their king. he wondered what that boy was doing… was he still alive? Was he dead?

Then the castle came into view, it wouldn’t be long now. the sun slowly had begun to set. The golden huge filling the sky like it knew what was going to happen. As if it were saying a final goodbye. He felt tears swell in his eyes.

Only five minuets later, he was standing on the weather-beaten balcony that had the perfect view of the city below.

And then he choked out a sob as ghostly figures, white wisps of phantoms filled the streets. Each holding a lantern before sending them up and up into the sky.

They shone like small red, green and yellow stars…

He looked down to the small bottle in his hand. He popped the lid open and drank its contents… he would be okay… he would see Romulus again. He lowered himself to the ground. Lying face up and staring at the sky flooded with fake stars.

And slowly his vision became blurry. “I cut you a piece of me, I cut you a piece of me. For where you go, I will go too I am now a part of you. From now on I’m half a soul, without you I can't be whole.” He sang weakly into the air…

“oh you are the start of me,” a voice sung back clearly. a sob left Janus with a smile on his face… he was home.

Romulus held out a hand. he took it without hesitation. Being pulled into a hug and very quickly a kiss. warmth, love and happiness flooded him as happy tears poured down both their faces. “hello my queen,” Romulus said as he looked at Janus with eyes filled with longing. “hello my king,” Janus said before bursting into tears.

So, cut me a piece of you, Cut me a piece of you, and where I go, you'll always be. Oh, you are the start of me, Oh, you are the start of me

“are you sure this is the right way?” Virgil asked concerned. “hell yeah emo-bitch!” Remus said excitedly.

He was taking them to see the lights that had begun in this area since well…forever. Always at the same time. Every year on the same day.

“I feel bad were not bringing Janus,” Patton said. “that asshole? Fuck him,” Orpheus growled.

Virgil paused for a brief second. Glancing at the castle. “hey… I think someone’s over there,” a figure outlined by the lowering sun stood on the balcony. it struck Remus quickly as to who it was. he felt himself filling with anger that seemed to plant deeply in his chest.

But… then it seemed to split in two. There was a figure standing next to Janus. And a song filled the air.

They all seemed to be thinking the same thing as they surged forwards. Bolting to the castle, hoping they were wrong as repressed memories filled their minds.

And then they stopped. Each one of them shaking as they saw the unmoving body of self-preservation lying on the ground. his eyes glazed over and his chest unmoving.

Two shadowy figures danced in each other’s embrace as they laughed. Peppering kisses on each other. a warm and sad feeling filled their chests.

This was the first time in years that most of them had seen Janus smiling. And he was in his lovers embrace.

“goodbye Janus,” Patton said as he waved over. “cya, on the other side Jan,” Virgil said… silent tears poured down his face. Logan gave a sharp nod and a small smile. Remus and roman gave a small wave. Not trusting themselves to speak. “take care of pops dad,” Orpheus muttered, his voice cracking as he did so.

“goodbye,” Janus’s voice echoed in their minds as the shadowy figures faded away. Smiling and holding one another with wide smiles.

Oh, you are the start of me

[queensdivas]

Peonies Chapter 1

soOkay so for those of you who didn’t know what the heck just happened. Tumblr decided to screw with the first chapter and not post it properly. Rude I know! 

So I jumped on my work computer and going to quickly post it so I don’t get in trouble. Teehee. 

Y’all ready for this though! I’m so excited for this one! The vocabulary that I’ve had to use is quite nice and fits the times perfectly! 

Next Chapter

masterlist

HERE WE GO!

Peonies a a charming lady 

She doesn’t like a spot too shady 

Likes to live out in the light 

Dressed in red or pink or white 

To Bloom brighter than the earth 

And to defeat all others

What is it like to be a Duchess who will be Governing a vast amount of Northern Italy? I’m not quite sure yet due to the fact mio padre is still ruling over the land and I’m being tutored in the fine games of politics. Oh do not get me wrong I would rather acquire all of the information of learning to rule rather than taking the responsibility too prematurely. 

Handing my reins to the stable boy as I began walking inside the Monastery to meet with Mother Superior Ani. I speak to her for council when it comes to somewhat major decisions in my life. This major decision is traveling to Russia and supporting Catherine in her new life. From what she has told me and what I’ve heard from padre. Russia is an absolute catastrophe. 

Something is relaxing about walking through the monastery when the sound of the nuns are singing. The beautiful art of the story of Christ, the only sound besides their songs are the winds blowing and birds chirping. Quite beautiful. Standing in the middle of the courtyard as I waited for Mother Ani to greet me for our chat. 

“Good afternoon Lady Chiara.” I was greeted by Sister Calderón along with Sister Grazia. The only set of twin nuns I’ve ever witnessed in my life. 

“Good afternoon Sister Calderón. Sister Grazia. I’m assuming that Mother Ani is finishing her afternoon confessions?” Asking them as they both nodded. 

“How are we feeling today?” They smiled as they approached me. 

“We’re going on a mission trip to Africa very soon!”  Sister Calderón cheered as Sister Grazia jumped a little. 

“We’re finally leaving!” Sister Grazia exclaimed as I smiled and clapped for them. 

“Congratulations you two!”

“I’m assuming they told you about their mission trip?” Mother Ani approached us as they collected themselves in front of her. Nodding and they scurrying off back into the chapel.

“They’re very excited. Mother Ani. I promise not to take much of your time today as I know dinner is soon.” 

“It’s quite alright. Shall we stroll in the gardens?” She asked as I nodded. As I mentioned before I go to her for counseling as she is the wisest person I’ve ever met in my entire life. Her wisdom comes from true experience unlike most men in the Catholic Church. We began walking towards the gardens so that we may talk in absolute privacy. I need her advice on my thoughts of going to Russia. 

“Mother Ani. What have you heard about Russia?” Halting at my question as I expected her reaction. Shocked and in confusion. 

“Why are you asking?” Sighing at her question as we entered the archway into the garden. 

“My cousin Catherine has married the Emperor of Russia and I’m quite concerned for her. She’s written some horrific things that have happened to her after only being married to him these past few weeks. He has punched her, killed her bear that he gifted her for their wedding, and even has multiple lovers. I know that’s very normal but that’s not exactly the way Catherine and I were raised. I think I would like to go to Russia and support her as she becomes accustomed to her new life.” 

“I say that is a very gracious thing to do for your cousin. But are you prepared to deal with the insanity of the monarch and Russian court?” I’ve heard some very bizarre things about them and I get this feeling Catherine should have some sort of noble ally. 

“I have been taught how to deal with any form of court and spoiled Monarchs. And being next in line to Govern these lands, they would not dare to lay a finger on me.They’re too busy with Sweden and if they were to kill me, Italy would align with the Swedish in order to defeat the Russians. So that’s not my concern. My only one being is to keep myself sane. Will you pray for me Mother Ani for a safe return?” We stopped as we faced each other. 

“Of course my child. When do you leave?” 

“In a few days. Mio Padre is sending me with a brand new horse and arms for self defense. Just in case he says. Needs me to stay alive if I’m to do my duty as a Grand Duchess soon.” 

“May God protect you on your journey and your aid in Russia. To think when you were baptized at Basilica di San Francesco. You would become this fair and wise over the years. You will make a beautiful Duchess of Italy.” Her words are always ones of great fulfillment. Always positive and never false. A little overconfident but there’s nothing wrong with having a little confidence in yourself. As long as you can control it without coming off as conceited. 

~~

The best gift to bring when arriving at a palace that you're staying for a few weeks is a vast variety of different wines. As a gift I’ve brought wine that has been sitting and aging beautiful for almost sixty years. Both sweet and bitter red wines that as I’ve said, have aged beautifully. 

I decided to ride up to the Royal Palace on horseback in order to make an impression on the Emperor when he greets me. Besides if I sit in that carriage another minute my legs and bottom will hate me for the rest of my life. 

Leading my carriage (which had my maid Fernanda inside) to see that the front yard of the palace was empty. They must be hunting or in the palace working on running the Empire. Pulling the reigns of my horse as we entered the entryway of the palace into the courtyard. Catherine was standing at the entrance as she looked radiant but yet somewhat good. We were practically sisters till I began my schooling of politics. 

Climbing down off my horse as she walked towards me as we both bowed to each other. Which left us giggling at each other to then give each other a hug. I have missed my dear cousin/sister and oldest friend in my life! 

“My dear Catherine, it is lovely to see you before me. And an Empress! Last time I saw you we were reading Shakesphere on our boat around Sardinia!” I cheered as we linked arms for us to walk inside the palace. 

“I’m glad you have arrived at my new home. Sadly..it is not a home sweet home. Not yet at least.” She commented as I nodded. 

“I’ve read in your latest letter and from a few reliable sources. I’m not quite sure how the hell you are managing all of this.” I’m finally able to show my true colors in front of Catherine as I must be proper in front of the family, advisers, and so on and so forth. But with Catherine. It is nothing but honesty and true colors. 

“The women of court?” Asking her I could feel her cringe. 

“Simple minded with their heads filled with emptiness.” We began walking up the stairs as my servant and others carried my things up the stairs. 

“Most of the women in court are filled with only air in their heads. Mother always said that entertaining the women of the court is next to impossible. But don’t worry. I am here and those women don’t know what I will be bringing these next few weeks.” We made it to the top of the stairs as a woman approached us. 

“Marial. This is my dear cousin Duchess Chiara! She will be placed in the room next to me and I will be telling her all our plans!” Catherine winked as she had a cheeky smile. Tell me what plans? What has she got up her sleeve? 

My room was not as big of course as I am a guest. It was a light blue room that had white flowers painted all over. The bed was very tall and extremely spacious with blue and white bedding. I think in England they would call this the Blue Room. A grand fireplace was lit that was also baby blue with gold trim. Come to think of it there was a lot of gold trim in this room which is sort of weird. 

Fernanda and those who were bringing my trucks came into my room as she took around my guest room. I took off my riding hat to throw on the bed as Fernanda sat down on one of the guest chairs. 

“It’s very modern. But I miss our home.” I nodded as I began unbuttoning my riding coat. 

“So do I already. We remembered to pack Padres guns right?” Asking her as she looked over from the chair. 

“Yes. I believe they’re bringing them up now.” She pointed towards the door as the rest of my servant brought in my trunks of different forms of weaponry. My fencing sword, regular sword, muskets, rifles, and pistols. I’m going to hunt some sort of wild beast that lives in this mad land and bring it home as a trinket. A Siberian Tiger would be a very nice trinket to bring home for la famiglia. 

Catherine came into the room with her maid in a very powerful march. As if she had something extremely important to tell me. AS in a life or death situation that couldn’t wait to be told.  

“We have much to discuss before dinner tonight.” Looking at Fernanda who excused herself. I’ll catch her up on the gossip later.  

“Now. I’m glad you decided to come and visit me. I have exciting news that I could use your help desperately with.” She pulled me over to the chairs as her servant stood next to her.

“I’m staging a coup d'état and in dire need of your help.” Not what I was expecting to hear in honesty. A coup? To think last year she was so excited to come to Italy and watch La Serva Padrona. And now a coup? 

“I umm..mamma mia a coup? Are you quite sure about this Catherine? I’d rather not see you dead. We have too much fun together.” 

“Which is why I have you. You’ve been studying how to rule a land and how to take the necessary steps..

“Catherine. I’ve been raised and tutored in Governing a land to be a Duchess not an Empress.” They’re very different in a weird way..wait why am I making excuses! But I should meet the Emperor to see why she’s forming a Coup and if he’s not as bad as I thought, maybe talk her out of it. Gossip from the court isn’t always trustworthy, obviously. 

“Let me experience at least one night with your husband..not sexually of course because that’s disgusting. I sadly can’t be seen helping stage a completely different country's coup. Might make a bad reputation for me.  But if it is as bad as everyone is saying. I’m in.” She nodded in my response as a small boy came into our room. 

“The Emperor requested your presence.” He told Catherine as she rolled her eyes. 

“Get yourself ready for dinner Chiara and make sure you take a drink of something. You’ll definitely need it.” Alcohol? Should’ve brought a few barrels of wine just in case. I’ve never had vodka and I know these Russians drink alcohol as if it was coming from their mothers tit. 

~~~

I’ve decided to pull out the big dress tonight as to make an impression on her entire court. The Duchess is here and she’s not meant to be tampered with! My brand new bright red dress that had white trills and designs all across it. I wore the royal sash that was given to me by King Ivrea Spoleto which was pearl white. My hair was of course up (even though it hurts my head a little bit) with pearls wrapping around my mountain of hairstyles. I truly don’t approve of it due to the fact that it takes too long to put up. 

“Do I look ready to impress an entire court of Russians.” Looking into the mirror one last time as my chocolate hair looked delectable. 

“From what I’ve seen going up and down the stairs of this place. You look absolutely stunning.” Fernanda commented as I smiled at her. 

“Oh! You need your knife!” Fernanda commented as I placed my right leg up on the end of my bed as she got into the bottom of my trunk. My grandfather's hunting knife that was given to him by the Queen of Chad when he first took reign. It was a beautiful sycamore that swirled at the base, the blade was a beautiful silver that shines everytime you display it. Even after all these years it looks stunning and deadly. Fernanda allowed me to put on the knife holster around my thigh then placed the knife in its holder. 

“Wish me luck for dinner. And I wish you the best of luck with chatting with the servants tonight for dinner. I’ll sneak you some desserts if we have anything that’s a pastry.” Winking at her as she nodded. 

Walking out of my room as I opened my fan as I waited for Catherine to come out of her room. I think Fernanda tied my corset a little too tight but not the first time this has happened. Though I’d rather be wearing pants and my button ups. Which will be what I wear when I’m running around the palace. Catherine came out of her room in a beautiful white, pink, and red dress that really made her pure white skin shine. Not to mention her blonde hair shined brightly. 

“Are you ready for the show?” She asked as we began walking down the stairs. 

“Not quite. But I did sneak a glass of wine into my room so my body is not as tense.” We made it down the bottom of the stairs. 

“So who is the biggest ass kisser of the Emperor? There’s always one.” 

“His name is Grigor Dymov. He kisses the Emperor's ass so much that he allows his own wife to be his whore.” 

“The second hand man married to the Emperors would be whore. If we are to do this I’m assuming we’re going after his right hand man? No. A much more subtle approach will be safer. Not that I’ve made my decision on whether to help, but I'd like to at least like to know your plan of action.”

“We’re first going after Count Orlov who has an understanding of the state of Russia. He’s a modern man who reads all of the famous authors in Europe.”

“I’m assuming he’s in the inner circle then?” Walking down the long hallway then stopping in front of the double doorway. 

“Yes. We're here. Just put on a fake smile and we’ll be just fine.” 

The doors opened and a wave of heat hit my skin. A mixture of alcohol and what smells like fish hit my nose as I wanted to just go back to my room. But I have to do this and need the impression in order to make my decision.

My fan helped me cool down tremendously as I was looking around at The Emperor's Court. To my right there were some women watching butterflies flying around her in a complete state of awe! They’re butterflies! Oh my goodness it is a show! There of course was dancing in the middle of the room that looked a little unfamiliar. I have to remind myself that I’m not at home and in a completely different country. 

Catherine handed me a glass of the clear liquid which is what I’m assuming is Vodka. Lifting my head back as It burned down my entire throat as I shook my head. 

“Heavens Catherine!” I laughed as she giggled. 

“Definitely helps.” She commented as we began walking further into the room then approaching the women with the butterflies. 

“Wow.” Catherine put on this extreme different face and even attitude before me which impressed me. 

“I am training them.” The women told us as she began coughing and gagging right in front of us. Holding her hand out to cough out two butterflies! What! 

“They do not all make the journey to a new land. Oh and who is this lovely woman.” She asked Catherine as I tried to not scream in horror. 

“This is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy. This is Aunt Elizbeth of Russia.” We bowed at each other as we sat down on one of the couches that was facing the fireplace. Which of course was absolutely grande with a large elk head hanging above it. 

“Let us talk of how you are.” She even had a butterfly drawn on her face! Talk about obsessions. 

“I’m quite well. Note my smiling face! My cousin has come to visit me for these next few weeks and I couldn’t be happier.” Smiling as I began looking around the room. Now where is this fat old man that she married and killed her bear! And who also punched her in the stomach. 

“I do! Has Emperor Peter also had something to do with this?” 

“He has been sweet.” 

“Oh. At heart, that is him. You know, as a young boy, Peter would run to his mother, holding aloft a picture he’d drawn or a boat fashioned from leaves, his eyes and words begging for approbation for love. And she would level a gaze at him and hold him in it, and he would fall silent and go so still. And then tears would run from his eyes, and his whole body would begin shaking uncontrollably, and urine would pool at his feet...it was a curious phenomenon.” Catherine and I shared the same facial expression as Elizabeth finished her story to us about Peter. So obviously he wasn’t an old man as I thought and was just a grown child who can’t stand the thought of someone not loving him. Have I made the correct character judgment through his own Aunt? Yes. 

“Why would she do that?” Catherine asked as I was also intrigued. 

“Everyone has their thing. Hers was cruelty. So I’m asking for some forgiveness, some empathy, from one I can tell is filled with both.” So he’s just a messed up King with mamma and papa issues. Quite ordinary in the monarchs. We began watching Elizabeth playing with her butterflies as a servant offered me a tray of tiny glasses of vodka. Taking one, drinking it then placing it back on the tray. A snap came from Elizabeth as I noticed a butterfly then landed on her finger.

“That is incredible.” I commented as she looked at me. 

“Indeed.” Elizabeth went into her own world as Catherine moved herself towards me. 

“Ready to meet him?” She asked as I shook my head. 

“Non..Non Catherine.” Grabbing my hand for us to start walking towards him. Pushing past all the dancers as I stood a few inches behind her. 

“Good evening husband!” Her husband was with another man as I looked down to see he’s in a skirt? They both turned towards her as he had no interest in speaking to us. 

“Empress.” He took a sip of his wine as his eyes drifted away from us. Why is he wearing a skirt? 

“You look marvelous! And your skirt, it is very pretty.” Why is Catherine kissing her own husband's ass? What woman needs to kiss her own husband's ass! He turned towards us as he flashed himself. Luckily it was all covered. 

“Thanks. It also allows one’s cock to swing free in the air. It’s marvelous. Old Madam Bolzoi whipped it up.” 

“It’s genius. I apologize if I have been sour face lately. I had my blood in, and you know how that goes..Rrrr.” An excuse that is older than time itself. But usually works because men think they're always being over dramatic during our blood. When in reality they are just horrid creatures. 

“Oh, right. I see. Well that explains much.” 

“But I feel much restored.” I haven’t seen this much ass kissing since Peter was kissing Jesus’ ass. 

“Who the hell are you?” His eyes drifted towards me as I took a step forward. 

���My dear husband is my cousin Duchess Chiara of Italy.” 

“Emperor.” Bowing in front of him as I then held up myself strong and ready to take on this madman.

“It is truly an honor to be invited here to stay in your breath taking palace. I bring gifts from my home being a beautiful batch of sweet and bitter red wines. In gratitude for letting me stay in your home.” Turning towards the door as about six barrels of wine entered the room as everyone began cheering. 

“I hope you enjoy them as a sign of peace from Italy.” Smiling as I knew Catherine would enjoy that little show. Have to make sure the Emperor doesn’t see me as a threat and the goal was achieved. 

“God you are stunning. Grigor doesn’t she make your cock hard?” My eyes widened at his statement as all I could do was just stand there. 

“Extremely.” He shook his head as I wanted to shoot him. Back home if I was to be talked to like this, the men would be beating the life out of him. I promise you that’s exactly how that happens. My sister was once insulted by an Austrian diplomat..and let’s just say he ended up floating in the Adriatic sea the next morning. 

“Tell me, great Emperor. What is the nature of this lively banquet? I've yet to catch up with the issues of Russia.” Everytime I open my mouth up to him, I can feel my skin twisting in regret and my tongue wanting to stop waggling. 

“We are honoring some of our wounded who finally won a battle for us against Sweden. Poor fucking guys.” Catherine and I turned our heads to see them in the corner of the room. 

“No eyes that one. To never see a naked women or a deer in full fucking fight again. Still, he may fuck ugly women and be happy now.” I’ve never wanted to slap someone so hard in the face! 

“Huzzah!” Catherine cheered as she looked completely uncomftorable. 

“Let us dance!” Swinging Catherine onto the dance floor as I took a few steps back into the crowd. Grigor I believe his name stood closely beside me as I noticed he was looking at me. 

“My apologies Duchess. I did not mean anything by what I said towards you.” Stopping the waving of my fan to face him. 

“The right hand man of the Emperor yes?” Asking him as we faced each other. 

“Grigor Dymov at your service.” He bowed as I turned off my fake smile. 

“I have no service for someone like you. The Emperor's right hand man who kisses his ass so much that shit must be stuck in your ears. I would pity you but being married to the Emporers would be whore. Now that is just..sad. Excuse me.” Walking away from him as I turned my head slightly to see that he was in utter shock.

We walked into the dinning room after the so called dance that her dellusionaly husband made her do as if they were drunk. Catherine and I entered the dining room as The Emperor kicked some sort of General out of his chair as he then moved Elizabeth out of her seat down one more. 

“The fat ass gladly gave up his seat. As no Duchess shall be seating with the court members. Greedy fucks.” Peter laughed as I smiled at him. What a rude bastard. But not completely wrong about the people of court. 

“Thank you Emperor.” Sitting down as one of the servants pushed my chair in. There were three glasses that sat in front of me at the table. One was filled with wine, another water, then finally a massive one filled with vodka. 

A dish appeared at me that looked like some sort of dumpling dish with a side of red..pasty soup? Grabbing my spoon as I poked it as it was meat? Beets? Both? Dipping my spoon into the soup as it tasted..well. The beets were very spiced with a hint of vinegar. The meat was especially spiced but has a sweet after taste. Interesting. 

From what I gathered about the Emporer. He’s literally a child that requires all the attention and love from every interaction he has with a person. Which doesn’t come as a surprise due to the fact that the Duke in Sardinia acted just like him, but he ended up jumping into the sea as he learned no one truly loved him. So once Peter realizes that no one truly loves him, maybe he’ll jump into the mouth of a Tiger. 

“Tell me Dear. I hope you’re here to bring Catherine happiness. And not here to start trouble between the both of them.” Her Aunt Elizabeth asked me as I took a sip of my water. 

“Well. When I received her letter about what happened between them..the bear and the punching. I care about her as if she was my own sister. All I’m here for is her happiness.” A butterfly landed on my nose which made her giggle. 

“They see a good soul in you and love it. I hope that you feel welcomed to our home, and it was a good idea bringing wine as a gift. Peter loves his alcohol.” She giggled as I looked down to my nose so watch the butterfly crawl around the tip of it. 

“Bring in those Swedish heads!” What? Is that code for a dessert? A servant took away my plate of food that I didn’t even finish yet as I noticed a tray was coming in that had hair on it? 

“We will eat dessert under their beady gaze!” Peter giggled as a tray was placed in front of me that..had a Swedish head on it..

God please forgive me.

My stomach turned into knots as I felt the little dinner I had was making its way back up through my throat. Catherine and I looked at each other in disgust as I wanted to run from the room, get on my horse and ride home. Now I see..A coup sounds like a wonderful idea. 

The pudding or whatever it was looked delicious but..I can’t..The vomit went into my mouth but I swallowed it back down then drinking my entire glass of water. Just breath Chiara and it will be almost over. 

“You rude fucker!” Peter yelled as he lifted his head up to look at his face. Standing up as he began digging his finger into the head. 

“Everyone! Poke their fucking eyes out!” He looked so proud of himself! Everyone excluding Catherine and I just sat there as the sound of squishing and eyeballs falling onto the trays filled my heads. 

“If you don’t he’ll kill you.” She whispered standing up with the man's head. Doing the sign of the cross as I stood up to lift his head. 

“Mi Dispiace. Possa Dio avere pietà della tua anima.” Catherine turned her head as I felt my eyes watering. A single tear fell as I dug my fingers into the first eye. The squishing, blood beginning to drip down my arm as the first eye popped out. 

“HUZZAH! DEATH TO THE SWEDISH!” Peter yelled as everyone cheered, drinking their vodka and smashing the glasses onto the floor. Dropping the head onto the tray as everyone began leaving the dining room. My right hand was covered in blood as my toes curled up in my heels from the sight. 

The dry blood on my hands was something I couldn’t stop looking at. It’s not that I’ve never seen blood before in my life..but when it comes from..a soldier who probably didn’t even want to fight..I hope that God is merciful to them. They needed to be buried and given a chance to enter the gates of Heaven. 

I couldn’t move for..I’m not quite sure how long at this point. Long enough that the servants came into the dinning room to start cleaning up. A woman with a large sack began dropping them into a burlap sack. 

“What will you do with them?” Asking the women as she looked up at me. 

“Burn them.” No..no. They do not deserve to be burned. Catherine came into the room as I stood up and wanted to scream. 

“I’m a Catholic...you’re an Orthodox..we both know their souls can not be saved..but they deserve some sort of burial. Is there a priest in this wretched palace?” She looked upon the dining room then walked over to the servant and then over to me. 

“Let them gather the heads and we’ll go speak to the Bishop.” The servant handed us the sack of heads as we began carrying them down the hall as she led me to the Bishops room. It was much heavier than I thought it would be. Never thought I would be thinking a bag of decapitated heads would be heavy! Knocking on the door as he flung it open in annoyance of being distrubed. 

“We need you to give these a Christian burial.” SHe ordered as I opened the bag so he could see the horrors of war. 

“I can only do a whole body.” He was about to shut the door but I believe the faces that were displayed on Catherines and my face weren't going to take no as an answer. I will send a rider to the Vatican if I have to in order for them to have some sort of entering the gates of heaven. 

“I could bless them.” The Bishop told us as I nodded in acceptance of the deal. 

A pound of thunder rang out as the heads were gently placed into the hole in the ground. Hard cold rain poured down upon us for Catherine and I to hold hands. We watched as the dirt was beginning to pile on top of their heads. I grabbed my rosary that I wore around my neck for my fingers to hold my cross. The Bishop went on reading from the bible as I softly spoke my own prayer. 

“Il Signore ti benedica e ti mantenga, mostrarti la sua faccia e abbi pietà di te. Volse lo sguardo verso di te e ti dava pace. Il Signore ti benedica…..Amen.” Finishing my prayer for the Bishop finished his prayer as he left Catherine and I out in the rain. 

“I want to rip the crown off his head myself.” Blurting out as Catherine turned her heads towards me. 

“A Coup d'état..sounds like a magnificent plan..”

Taglist: 

@mirkwoodshewolf​ @bonafiderocketqueen​ @filmslutt​ @leah-halliwell92​ @johndeaconshands​ @jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels​ @radio-hoo-ha​ @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too​ @deck-heart​ @arrowswithwifi​  @stardust-killer-queen​ @the-baby-bookworm​ @actuallyanita​ @sadhwstudent​

[dearsubconscious]

If you haven’t already, I highly recommend reading my very first post on this page before continuing. This story has themes of emotionsl/psychological/narcissistic abuse. This is my true story. Readers be advised.

Sifting Through the Memories: Part One

Dear Subconscious,

6 years. It took you 6 years to tell me the truth. I don’t think you understand how impactful that actually is. Maybe you thought that you were helping me. Maybe you thought that the walls of ignorance that you had built were keeping me safe. I don’t think I will ever really know. However, those 6 years managed to do just as much damage to my life, if not more that the years prior, all because I didn’t understand.

Those 6 years were so confusing. I found the courage to leave her in fall of 2013, senior year of high school, but you waited until 2019 to explain what really happened during that 5-year-long relationship during my most vulnerable years. In the process of waiting all of that time, I had no real understanding of why I had these horrible habits or these self-destructive tendencies that ruined nearly all aspects of my life.

I knew and understood a lot about depression from middle school and high school; from class discussions on the topic; from the people I was close to at the time that suffered greatly from it; from the people that I helped through the dark via deep and open conversations late into the night over text; from the people I care about most struggling through it; perhaps most of all, from my own struggles with it.

I wasn’t really sure at the time why I was depressed, however. I tried to pin it on my apathy for school, which caused my bad grades. Deep down, I always knew that was actually a consequence of my depression, among other reasons, not a cause. I thought maybe it was because of my family situation at home that had been ever changing from around 4th grade on: parent divorces and marriages, arguments, moving houses and changing schools, new step siblings (I was an only child), destructive, alcoholic step parents. These things may have initiated some depression early on, and they may have been contributing factors over time, but I never really felt that any of these events were ultimately what led to my darkest moments in life. I always knew people my age going through worse things than I was, and they seemed to be keeping themselves together better than I was. So why was I having such a difficult time in life? Why couldn’t I keep up with everyone else? Why was my self esteem so low? My parents were always good at supporting me and giving me love and attention, so how could I feel so low? I just never actually knew until recently. Until it was beyond too late.

I was always taught to try to reach out and always be there to help those in need when they need it most and be a helping hand. It could save a life. And I know that I helped save some of my friends lives. I wasn’t looking for praise or to be a hero. I just wanted to make sure that everyone around me was okay. Maybe I was always hopeful that the favor would be returned should I ever need it. I still hold these values today, as I know that so many people just need to be heard to be saved.

Just like me.

Most of my friends knew that I didnt sleep well in high school. I didn’t know it at the time, but it turns out that was a symptom of my body and mind being in fight-or-flight mode at all times. I was too afraid to sleep for fear of making my girlfriend mad. This still affects my sleep habits to this day. More on that later. This, however, meant that all of my friends also knew that they could text me at just about any time, 24 hours a day, and I would most likely respond. For much of high school, it definitely seemed like I was talking to someone every night, helping them sort their thoughts out and generally letting them vent or open up about their emotions. These talks also, occasionally, had me talking people “back from the ledge” when things got really bad for several of my deeply depressed friends. I always remained anonymous about it for their sake, but I was always glad that I could be there to help in the middle of the night when they were at their darkest. I distinctly remember, in one week, for some reason, three of my friends from three different “walks of life,” unrelated from one another, had all gone through deeply traumatic events and I found myself texting and calling them late through the nights to keep them from making the ultimate decision. All of these years later and I am happy to say that nobody that I knew in high school has taken their own life to this day. It definitely feels a bit miraculous, since I know that my younger step siblings have each lost several friends to suicide during their high school years.

Being young an naive and constantly empathetic toward everyone around me meant that I also left myself very vulnerable and very easy to push around. I never saw it that way at the time, though. Again, naive. I left my empathetic ways open to be used. I didn’t think that anybody could use my kindness against me with malicious intent. Why would they? How could they? I was just being nice.

I suppose that should lead us back to 7th grade, where the real story began. In theater class, an elective I enjoyed in high school, I got to know people better that I hadn’t known before. I had started at a new school where I knew virtually nobody in 6th grade, and the experience of 6th grade didn’t leave much time to get to know anybody yet (though I did meet my best friend in 6th grade). The 7th grade schedule allowed us more time to meet and learn about people in our classes, and theater in particular was a class all about getting to know people so that you could perform characters well together.

This was where I really met her.

We had one other class together, French, but that class had a very strict teacher that allows no time for talking amongst ourselves, so seeing each other’s personalities in theater class meant much more. I remember she always wore the same sweater jacket everyday, just like me. She was small, shy and quiet and she tended to use the sleeves on her jacket to cover her hands. She would wrap her fingers over the ends of the sleeves, gripping tight as if it was protecting her, like some kind of shield. We had to present mini performances often in that class and I could tell that she was very nervous for one of her first ones. She was trying hard to recall her lines and was gripping hard and fidgeting with her sleeve trying to protect herself. I saw a lot of myself in her at the time and I had a lot of empathy for her in that moment. I tried to motion to her to let go of her sleeves so that she could appear more confident. She noticed my sitting in the back motioning, but I think I just looked crazy to her at the time. My use of empathy here should have been the first sign that I was approaching this relationship all wrong. I saw her as someone I could help because I could relate well to.

We started talking a bit in that class. Eventually I managed to convince her to chat with me on yahoo messenger after school so that we could talk more. Our phone plan at the time did not include texting or data, so I was stuck with using yahoo messenger at home on my desktop. We made this work though. I found out quickly that her mom had just gotten married without telling her to a man she didn’t like with two daughters that she did not get along well with. While I don’t entirely blame her for those feelings, even now, her deep apathy for this still probably should have been a red flag at the time, but I was too young and naive to see it at the time. Plus, I was going through something very similar at the time so we had a lot of connection through that. Our conversations were long and we learned a lot about each other. We would trade off asking each other simple questions, like what our favorite song was, or who our favorite family member was. I think this made us feel closer than we were, and at the time we didn’t feel so alone in a strange and lonely life.

She started venting to me about the, supposedly, traumatizing things that she had been going through with her moms marriage and the new people in her house. I should her a lot of sympathy during that time. This probably made her feel like she had someone that would listen to her deepest problems, but it was also the start of her use of my own empathy against me. She would start to use it to trap me in a conversation. Making me feel a little guilty if had to leave for dinner or homework. She didn’t really get angry, but I would always apologize a lot for leaving so she started to get annoyed with the frequency of my interruptions. At the time I thought absolutely nothing about this.

A short time later, I had decided that I definitely liked her because she would connect with and listen to me. I had gotten to know a few of her friends and I had even passed a note to one of her friends that I was thinking about asking her out. Her friend was immediately all over this and wanted me to do it soon. So, one day we were out in groups in theater class, and I remember eaves dropping in her group nearby where her friend was asking her if she likes me. She nodded yes and they discussed a bit. It was a bit of a blur from there, but one way or another I ended up asking her out by the end of that class and she agreed. I was giddy with excitement for weeks, of course. I felt like I couldn’t have asked for things to go better. Puppy love (a term I have come to loath as we called each other puppies for the entirety of the time that we dated. I realized later how she used it as a name to belittle me most of the time). That said, our actual relationship, behaviors and conversations did not change basically at all once we were dating.

Her family was a strict catholic family that taught her to be very uptight about relationships (or so she told me), so we didn’t even hold hands for months. It didn’t even seem like we were in a relationship at all. We were very young anyway, so nobody was really surprised. Summer quickly came around and I was off to see my family in Europe for a month. There was no way for me to communicate with her during that time. With the state of our relationship, that was actually okay. When I returned from that trip, I saw her within the following days and she seemed a bit distant. I asked if we were still together and she agreed, but she seemed a bit apathetic. Our conversations started again on yahoo messenger in the evenings and all seemed normal again.

School soon started again, 8th grade. We only had French class together and we just didn’t seem as connected. I could tell that she was putting some distance on me. I was developing new friends and I became caught up with them more often. Soon (around mid September), she told me that she thought that we should call it off. She felt that we were better off as friends. With the way things were and the fact that we never became very close, I agreed, but it still hurt a little. I had felt good about what we did have at the time, but I couldn’t blame her. I hadn’t helped to close the distance in the weeks before that.

I know, this seems inconsequential on my life up to this point and this clearly wasn’t 5 years, so what really happened. Well, it got a lot more complicated very quickly.

Up to this point, I don’t think that you were blocking much or trying to hide any pain. Not much of the damage had been done yet. You couldn’t have seen what was coming next, so how could I blame you. You didn’t do much to keep me from being very vulnerable around that time, though. You were probably sending up red flags that I didn’t understand because my conscious brain was blind and full of emotions that were blocking you out. I was a teenage boy after all.

To be continued.

Thank you for reading. I only write these when I am going through the low days, often after a PTSD trigger, when I have some sleepless time. It helps me collect myself. Updates to this will not be regular, but I hope that you can follow along. Most of all, I hope that sharing my story can help others that are in or have been in similar situations. This situation has had me feeling incredibly lonely for years. I don’t wish this pain on anyone and I hope that you can keep moving forward like I am. We are stronger together and most importantly: you. are. not. alone.

[feenyreadscomics]

mattfoggy

I'm assuming for all of them and I just read volume 4 of Waid's run so I have feelings about this thanks for letting me vent (and I'm assuming you mean all of them for the asks)

So here we go:

Who hogs the duvet? Foggy hogs it, so they do that European thing where Matt gets his own so Matt doesn't get woken up in the middle of the night by Foggy savagely ripping the blankets out of Matt's hands.

Who checks in during the day? Look in Daredevil issue 1, the entire Saturday Matt was hunting down the Fixer, Foggy was wandering around, wondering if Matt had fallen down a manhole, so Foggy checks in. A lot. Before he found out about DD, it was cuz Matt was blind and would go missing, after finding out about DD, it's to make sure Foggy isn't bleeding out. (Matt is a creeper tho and listens in to what Foggy is doing throughout the day.)

Who's the most creative when it comes to gifts? I think I saw a few panels that implied Matt never remembers to give gifts, so by process of elimination, Foggy.

Who gets up first? In law school, Matt. After Matt started moonlighting as a vigilante? Foggy. (Matt needs his beauty sleep)

Who suggests new things in bed? Foggy suggests various ways to cuddle.

Who cries at movies? Not Matt "Repression" Murdock

Who gives unprompted massages? Foggy did for a bit in law school, but stopped when he found out that Matt didn't like being randomly touched

Who fusses over the other when they're sick? Canonically, Matt. See Matt accompanying Foggy to his doctor's appointments.

Who gets jealous easiest? Foggy. The boy has low self esteem (and canonically gets jealous of attention Matt gets)

Who has the most embarrassing taste in music? Foggy has the most embarrassing taste in music, but Matt gets embarrassed over his own music more. (This goes into Matt growing up poor when Foggy didn't: Matt never learned what rich people like in music, and his music reflects that.)

Who collects something unusual? Foggy (plastic dinosaurs, tho that's MCU Foggy)

Who takes the longest to get ready? Foggy, but it's not like either of them take a long time (Foggy has to style his hair)

Who's the most tidy? Matt, though a lot of this is by being blind (from what I can tell, blind people have to keep everything organized, or they lose track of what's where.) Also, this is why initially Foggy was a hellish roommate for Matt (well, part of it).

Who gets the most excited about holidays? Foggy.

Who's the big spoon/little spoon? Foggy, by virtue of being drawn at 5'6".

Who's the most competitive at sports? Matt since he is arrogant (I also feel like it might be him reacting against ableist jerks, but idk enough to say)

Who starts the most arguments? Foggy since Matt's method of dealing things was taken from the book of mormon musical (thanks Foggy)

Who suggests they buy a pet? Okay, have you heard of Deuce the Devil dog? Hes a real comics character that Foggy got for Matt to help Matt fight crime (Deuce is a retired police dog) so canonically, Foggy.

What couple traditions do they have? Matt always let's Foggy know before he's going out, and Foggy is almost always awake when Matt gets back. Also after Foggy got a Daredevil tour of the city (that tour is canon) they do it on a semi regular basis

What TV shows do they watch together? I dont think they watch TV shows, instead they listen to podcasts.

What other couple do they hang out with? Ok so their social circle isn't super big, so I don't really see that happening all that often with anyone. Matt's a bit of a loner, and his regular firebombing of Foggy's life can make finding hangout buddies difficult.

How they spend time together as a couple? Hanging out at the local bar (hello, Josie's), going on long walks. Foggy likes to test Matt's senses.

Who made the first move? Oh boy. There's a lot about Matt that's going on, making this a muddled mess. A few things about how I headcanon Matt for the sake of this ship.

Matt deals with his emotions poorly. He dosent realize he's attracted to Foggy. He doesn't know what's going on. At all. He thinks he's straight. I know I put in the Area 51 fanfic that Foggy isn't Matt's boy because Fogs is married, Matt is Catholic, and Matt is straight. No. Matt isnt. But he dosent know that. (That was my alternate character interpretation, btw.)

Matt would, if he figured out he was not straight, actively decide to not act on it, at least initially. (I suppose this would make him side b, ie, not acting on the gay for religious reasons.) I feel strongly about this.

So it would require a conversation (or several dozen) with Foggy to figure out what he's feeling, and to get Matt okay with a romantic relationship.

At some point in this, Matt deduces Foggy's feelings.

Matt would then decide to make a move.

Who brings flowers home? Neither, they make Matt sneeze.

Who's the best cook? Look my man Foggy does not have a bacon and limburger cheesecake combo named after himself for you to in any way, shape, or form, imply he is the better cook or has a better palate. (I do headcanon Foggy as a good baker though. Oddly enough. Maybe because I'm projecting my desire to be a good baker.) Matt is the better cook.

Thanks for the ask!

[hosannagcbriel]

oh hi there, welcome to holiday, GABRIEL LOCKHART. oh wait, you’ve been here. has anyone ever told you that you look like CALLUM TURNER? you’re MALE and use HE/HIM? just checking. and you’ve been here for EIGHT YEARS? you’re THIRTY-TWO too, right? just curious. you work over at the HOLIDAY COMMUNITY CHURCH still? you know people say you’re SWEET, UNDERSTANDING, but NAIVE, RETICENT so i guess take that with a grain of salt. well, at least i do know you’re excited for CHRISTMAS. bye now! 

& BASICS.

FULL NAME: Gabriel Matthew Lockhart NICKNAME(S): Gabe DOB: June 10th AGE: thirty-two FROM: Lawton, Oklahoma OCCUPATION: pastor ORIENTATION: homosexual SOCIAL STATUS: middle class NOW PLAYING: Honeycomb by Jimmie Rodgers

& HISTORY.

Gabriel grew up in an extremely religious family. He hadn’t always wanted to be a member of the church. In fact, his dream was to be a historian. Gabriel was the second of five children. His youngest sister suffered from a severe mental disability, and while the rest of the Lockhart siblings left home one-by-one, Gabriel stayed behind knowing that both she and his parents needed the assistance.

Gabe harbored a lot of self-hatred and cognitive dissonance. Not only because he betrayed himself by not following his dreams, but also because he knew he was gay. Growing up in a strictly Catholic household, this particular trait was deemed an absolute sin and, as one might expect, the young man spent more than a few afternoons in confessional. This changed him. He found a kind of solace and peace - not wholly accepting himself, but at least coming to live with it. It was this new outlook on life that pushed him to pursue the cloth.

By age nineteen, he was training to be a priest. He was taken on by his own church. Because of his friendly and resourceful nature, he was often assigned out-of-town missions such as assisting other churches with major fundraisers. It was one such assignment that had him going southbound on that fateful day. Gabriel passed through Gravity Falls on his way to another town. It was out-of-state which was extremely far for him, but being twenty-three years of age, he was eager to move up in his church. When he passed through the town, Gabe experienced some minor car troubles. It was a Sunday, which of course meant that he spent his spare hours in the church. After mass, Gabe was spontaneously offered a job. He knew he had responsibilities back home, yet, before he could stop himself, Gabriel had accepted the offer. Five years later, he found himself the new Pastor.

Gabriel’s method of leadership is more modern than that of a traditional pastor. He thinks of religion as a “guide”. While he encourages good will towards others and promotes prayer, after years of deliberation, he has come to think that the Bible is flawed. If only, because it has been changed by man so many times. He believes that the core values are the same but some of the little details may have been lost in translation. After all, why would you be banished to hell simply for eating shellfish? He’s definitely a Hip With The Kids Pastor.

Gabriel got married shortly after moving to town. Again, he didn’t know why. Perhaps it was a need to prove himself to the locals, or to avoid suspicion. Perhaps it was because he was lonely. But it wasn’t any of that, and deep down, he knew. Truthfully, Gabriel and his wife don’t even like each other that much. They can certainly be civil, but there is a distinct tension between them. Fights are not uncommon. They both cheat and they both know it. Gabe and his wife have three children together. Jonah (8), Abigail (5) and Matthew (1). Again, he couldn’t tell you why he decided to father three children, but he can certainly say he loves them with all his heart.

& MISC.

can you believe? this man is honestly out here thinking he’s a top? you have ONE bad experience and suddenly “my body can’t do that”? gabriel when will you learn. when will you accept your True Fate?

His oldest son has autism but they don’t know that atm. they think he just has behavioral problems because of the new baby

Gabe has an eternally peppy disposition! he’s just too nice.

he’s anti-violence, won’t even swear. But will protecc his kids with his life.

Just? dad of the year? to the whole town?

him and his wife don’t really get along? there’s a lot of strain there. But they’re great at pretending oof

[samcro-saint99]

Familia

Hey, Dolls! I’m back! I am so sorry I have been gone for so long, but I'm hoping that this will make up for that! This was a request from the lovely @head-in-the-clouds-bx , I really hope you enjoy it, Doll! Welcome to all the new dolls, and as always I am so thankful for all of you! 

All my Love, 

Saint xxx

P.S - I would apologize in advance for any way I may have butchered the Italian language! I am an uncultured Aussie, who relied heavily on google translate for this!

P.P.S - As always a big thank you to the amazing @thirstygirlclub for motivating my lazy self and assisting in the final read!

“WHAT are you up to, little man!” You laughed as you jumped around the corner and into the kitchen, wrapping your arms around him while he giggled (as though you hadn’t caught him trying to climb up to the lolly cupboard). 

“Nothing mommy” 

“Are you sure you weren’t breaking into the cupboard?” 

“No!” He laughed innocently as you tickled him. 

“Well, I guess you don’t want a....‘Mommy Special’ then….” You teased looking to the roof when his little head snapped up to look at you excitedly, “at the table” you whispered with a smiling wink. 

Five minutes later the table was covered in artificial colors, flavors, and all things sweet and sticky, and his face was covered in chocolate and ice cream. You knew it wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but the smile on his little face was worth sleepless night with an overactive toddler. 

“Daddy!” Abel screamed from the table, running to the front door at the sound of Jax’s Harley in the driveway. 

Jax came through the doors carrying Abel on his hip, a charming smile on his face as he looked at you. 

“Hey Darlin’” he greeted before his eyes landed on the table covered in treats, his eyebrows raised as he looked between the two of you. 

“Mommy's naughty”Able mumbled with a cheeky giggle. 

“Hey!” You gasped, placing your hand to your chest in feigned insult.

“She sure is, Little Dude” he smirked, leaning down to kiss your head before eating a gumdrop from the table. 

Before you could find a witty comeback, Thomas’ cries broke through the house. “Someones awake - Mommy’ COMING, BABY!”s

———————————————————————————————————

You sat quietly on the couch, enjoying a moment of silence. Jax was at the club, and the boys were out for the count. With a glass of wine beside you, you stared at a framed family photo in your hands trying to think how you could be so lucky to have your boys. Your family. And although you shouldn’t have been, you were thankful everyday that Tara had given up and left Charming. You and Jax had been together for a little over two years. You loved them, and they loved you. 

Your mind wandering was interrupted as your phone began to buzz, an image of your parents came on to the screen with a Skype request.

“Ciao Mammi!” You smiled, waving at the phone as your mothers face appeared on the screen. 

“Il mio bambino” she sang, a bright smile stretched across her face “[Y/F/N] mettiti dieter il too pigro, é cosi [Y/N]!” She yelled through the house to your father, before he walked into the room to stand beside your mother. You had to admit, seeing them both together did make you quite homesick. 

“Ciao Papá, come ti senti-”

“No, no, no you must use American, it is good we learn” he encouraged in broken English.

“Yes, one day we come visit you, and we can speak to Jackson and our sweet little grand-bambinos!” Your mother cheered with a warm heart, clasping her hands together. 

Although your parents had never met Jax or your children, they were thrilled that you had finally settled down, and even more thrilled to finally be grandparents. 

The three of you talked for almost an hour before Jax came home. 

“Baby come say hi!” Jax leant over the couch behind you, smiling at your parents.

“Hey Mr and Mrs [Y/L/N]” 

“Hello Jackson, how are you? How is work?” They continued to bombard him with questions which he answered flawlessly. Your parents adored Jax, and with every word, he spoke he charmed them more and more. 

When you had finally said goodbye to your parents, you just turned to smile quietly at Jax. 

“What?” He asked with a chuckle. 

“I love you so much.”

———————————————————————————————————

The next morning, you sat up in bed as you heard the door to your bedroom open. 

“Good morning Mommy” Jax whispered as he carried Thomas in on his hip with Abel by his side. Your heart warmed at the sight. 

They all climbed onto the bed, Jax placing Thomas in your arms, as Abel hopped onto your lap. 

“Boys don’t you have something to ask Mommy?” Jax encouraged. 

“Mommy, will you marry Daddy?” Abel asked with a big grin as he opened Thomas’ closed fist to reveal a diamond ring, taking it to hand to you. 

You smiled at Jax, tears brimming in your eyes, before turning back to Abel.

“What do you think, Little Man? Should I?”

He nodded his head vigorously, before you grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug.

 “Then I guess I better” you said, planting a kiss on his squishy little cheek as he giggled, before leaning over and pressing a kiss firmly to Jax’s lips. “I love you, Darlin’”

———————————————————————————————————

While Jax was at work that day you decided it was time for a little alone time, sending the boys off to Grandma’s. When Jax arrived home and caught sight of the look in your eyes he grew curious. 

“Where are the boys?” He asked, a lustful glint in his eyes as you curled yourself around him. 

“With Gem. We’re all…a….lone” you purred, nuzzling into his neck. 

With a growl, he grabbed you from behind and carried you off to your bedroom. What followed was pure ecstasy. To put it as simply as possible - it was a good old fashioned fuck. 

Jaxs hands gripped tightly into your hips, as the sound of your passionate moans and groans filled the room. They say all good boys go to heaven, but fuck that. Bad boys bring heaven to you. 

You were on the brink, your core tightening, your heart racing, when….

“Ah, Mio Dio!” You heard a gasp from the doorway behind you. Jax climbed off of you allowing you to turn in time to see your parents horrified faces in the doorway. 

“Um…I…Oh God…” was all you could muster as you pulled the sheets up to cover Jax and yourself. 

Your parents stared aghast for a moment before embarrassingly excusing themselves to the living room. You sat there, eyes wide in shock, your mouth hanging open, as Jax started to chuckled. You turned to him with a look that would scare even Happy. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!!! My parents just saw us fucking like a pair of fucking dogs!”

“Darl’, you’re overreacting, Gems walked in on us before, and she was chill” he reasoned, attempting to pull you into a hug before you started to slap him furiously. 

“Yeah but that's YOUR Mother! The fucking Biker Queen herself! My parents are more Catholic than the fucking POPE! Jesus Fucking Christ” you squealed uncontrollably, pulling your legs up to bury your face in them.

“You do know that we’re big kids, right?” He asked sarcastically. 

“I can't ever look at my parents…ever again” you mumbled, flopping back onto the bed. ———————————————————————————————————

“Mammi….Papá” You said tentatively, as you walked into the living room, Jax following close behind. 

“Oh..uh hello Bambino” your father smiled awkwardly, his cheeks still red.  

“I-um thought you weren’t arriving until next week?”

“We decided to come early and surprise you…” your mother explained 

“You certainly did” Jax snickered, earning him a jab in the ribs. 

You crossed the room and pulled both your parents into a tight hug, despite the awkwardness it was still terrific to see them. 

The next few hours passed more or less in the same mood, small talk and uncomfortable attempts to avoid eye contact. But it was sitting over afternoon tea that things got bad. 

Fiddling with your teacup, you decided that the situation needed a little brightening. 

“Mammi, Papá - Jax and I have something to tell you…” you looked to Jax for reassurance, and with a small nod from him, you continued. 

“We’re getting married...” 

The looks on your parents faces started as excitement, before returning to the brooding look of despair. 

“Whats the point…you've already done it all” your mother muttered, as you gasped. 

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing! Your mother and father began to lecture you on the sin of premarital sex, while your mouth hung open in disbelief, and Jax tried to contain his laughter. You almost thanked God when Abel ran into the room, pausing at the sight of strangers, before telling you that Thomas was crying, which had been drowned out by the argument. Taking Abel by the hand you stormed out, thankful for the distraction. 

Picking Thomas up you sat down on the couch and pulled Abel up to sit on your lap, and before long Jax came to sit beside you, wrapping his arm around you. 

“Hey..don’t worry about your parents - they’ll come around”

“I just didn’t expect them to behave like that.” You said with a sigh, leaning your head against his shoulder, as he pressed a gentle kiss to your head. 

Once again you opened your eyes to the sight of your parents standing in the doorway, but the looks on their faces were not ones of shock this time, they were ones of realisation. Realisation that they had overreacted. That you were a wonderful mother. And that you had a beautiful family. 

You just stared at your parents, anticipating more argument. Silently your mother made her way over to stand in front of you. Reaching out she gently stroked Abels hair, and after he had looked to you for reassurance, the look of panic on his face turned to a smile as he looked up to your mother. 

Your father padded over the soft carpet to join you and stood soundlessly, hazing fixedly at Jax, before reaching his hand out for Jax to take. As the pair shook hands, your father rasped in a hushed tone. 

“Prenditi cura di nostra figlia, figlio.”

Your lips curled into a heart warmed smile. Your family was whole. 

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #173

“i like the sound of the broken pieces.”

Do you get excited when you learn you have to dress up? No. What brand of hair spray do you use? I don't use that. When you were younger, did you believe you could fly? Maybe? Favorite farm animal? Pigs! Have you ever written or considered writing a play? No. Have you ever had kidney stones? No. Have you ever been sedated or put under anesthesia? Yes. Have any of your friends ever cheated on somebody? *shrugs* Pin the tail on the donkey - fun or stupid? I loved it as a kid. Still would have fun. In your opinion what is one of the ugliest cars on the road? I'm not knowledgeable on car names, but those box-looking ones are definitely up there. Have you ever been on the very top floor of a skyscraper? NO. Have you ever won anything out of one of those crane machines? Yeah. Can you remember being taught how to ride a bike? Was it hard for you? Yeah, I don't think it was too hard. How many instruments do you own/have you owned? Three: Recorder, flute, guitar. Were you ever a flower girl or ring bearer in anyone’s wedding when you were little? No. Have you ever had an ear infection? All the time as a kid until I had tubes put in, then I had one from Hell itself early this year because my former doctor was a fucking idiot. Do you own or rent your home? Rent. Are your parents in good health? No. Well maybe Dad is all right, but he doesn't look to be in great health. He's too skinny. Have you picked up any new hobbies in the past year? No. If you have a significant other, how old were you when you first met them? Like, ten. How old were they? Eight-ish. Is English your first language? If not, was it hard to learn? Yes. Have you ever worn a costume for any reason other than Halloween? Dance recitals/competitions. Is there anything you’re a snob about? I don't believe so. Are you open to trying new foods or would you prefer to stick to foods you love and have often? I'm hesitant to try new foods. Have you ever had a ‘summer fling’? If yes, did it continue when summer ended? No. Has anybody ever told you that you could be a model? No. Do you use different kinds of moisturizer for different body parts? ie. hand lotion for your hands, face cream for your face. Or do you just use one moisturizer for all body parts? No. Have you ever felt like you were someone’s rebound? No. Are you a vegetarian? If yes, how long have you been a vegetarian for and what are your reasons for being one? If no, do you think you’d ever like to stop eating meat? Not anymore, but I was for a couple months. I wish I could be one permanently; the way animals are butchered is horrific, and I don't want to take any part in their consumption. I see their lives as equal to mine. I'm not anymore for two reasons: 1.) Willpower, and 2.) my diet without meat is too carb-focused as I couldn't dedicate myself to enough vegetables (especially) and fruit. If for some reason you were were unable to get to a supermarket for the weekend (let’s say you were snowed in or something) which item would be the worst for you to run out of - toilet paper or toothpaste? Toilet paper. I mean both would be gross, but. I'd be more disgusted if I couldn't clean myself after using the bathroom, especially if, y'know. I could at least use mouthwash for the latter. Has anybody ever broken up with you over something really pathetic? What was it? Have you ever been dumped in a disrespectful way? (eg. through text, through a friend..) No, and yup. Jason broke up with me over Facebook Messenger after a serious three-and-a-half-year relationship. Yeah, pathetic. Does it irritate you when people are late for things, or do you not really care? Not really. But I guess it depends on the occasion. Is your bed against more than one of your walls? No Have you ever burned yourself while taking something out of the oven? No. I don't mess around with the oven. Have you ever made out in your room? Last time? Not in my current room. Have you ever injured yourself while you were under the influence of alcohol? No. When was the last time you were bitten by a bug? Idk. What’s the fastest you’ve ever driven in a car? I guess on a highway maybe I accidentally approached 80 mph? Have you ever had a dream where you could understand a foreign language? No. Have you ever owned a beanbag chair? I think so. Are you a fan of retro things? Y E A H Have you ever used pastels? Yeah, made a few things with them in high school art class. What’s the limit on how much you would pay for a shirt? Ohhhh idk... I'm a sucker for band tees especially. I suppose I'd be hesitant once it hits $40. Is it currently humid where you are? No. Who were the last people you hung out with? Just Mom. How many different colors have you dyed your hair? Black, red, purple. Do you feel safe where you live? Yeah. Where have you considered moving to? I'd like to move to the mountains once I'm independent. Have you been falsely diagnosed with something by a bad doctor? Lol yup. Did you know I had ADHD? :^) Have you ever had a doctor refuse to treat you? No. Are you against abortion? Not in all cases. Has anyone ever hacked your accounts before? Not maliciously. Back when it was a "thing," Megan and I "hacked" into each other's YouTube accounts to write lovey-dovey shit in our descriptions. Who is the first person who broke your heart? Dad when he left. If you only mean romantically, everyone knows who. Do you know anyone who has fought in a war? Not to my knowledge. What’s the last song you danced to? No clue. Do you tend to be self-destructive? Eh, there's a moderate chance when something goes wrong. Self-bashing thoughts are easy to let in. What religion are you? Theist. Who is the last person you gave a ride to, and where did you take them? I don't have a license. Have you ever been shot? No. What is the coolest thing you can do? I dunno. Do you have anything from past relationships? Yeah, just like, plushies. And a small jewelry box. Do you like coconut water? Never tried it, and I doubt I'd like it. I hate coconut. Do you have a Nintendo Switch? No. At what venue was the last concert you attended? Idr. Do you think stained glass windows are pretty? YES. Are you scared of snakes? No. Have you had your wisdom teeth removed? No. I have my two bottom ones, but I was told there's enough room in my mouth for them to not be a big issue. X-rays show none on my top row. Do you like hard or soft pretzels better? Soft. Has anyone ever asked for your phone number, and you refused to give it to them? I believe so. Are you ready for children? Never will be. Does it take you a while to actually get jokes? Occasionally. Have you ever bleached your hair? Yes, to get it dyed. Do you like jelly beans? Depends on the flavor. Who taught you how to apply make-up? Myself, I guess? Would you rather live in an apartment or a house? House. Do you prefer Small Business Saturday, Black Friday, or Cyber Monday? Cyber Monday, man. Which do you prefer: iPhones, Android, Blackberries, or something else? iPhone. Do you ever put fruit on your cereal? No no no ew. Are there more photos or music files on your computer? Photos. Say something about the band/artist you’re listening to right now. I'm listening to "Professional Griefers" by deadmau5 ft. Gerard Way. I have no opinion on the band (this is the only song I know), but loooove me some Gerard. What is your favorite thing about the summer, besides the the no school thing? Just swimming. Are you similar to your sibling(s), personality-wise? How so? Nope. Well, my mom's eldest daughter is quite like me. We're both more quiet people that feel deeply and suffer from bipolarity. Do you watch amateur song covers on YouTube? No, but fun fact! I got into YT because Nicole wanted me to listen to "Before He Cheats" covers with her. I found the MM fandom, and it was all over. Which YouTuber have you learned the most from? About life and such, easily Mark. As far as obscure knowledge goes, Good Mythical Morning/Rhett and Link. What is your favorite type of church that you’ve visited? Visually, Catholic. What different types of churches have you visited? Catholic and Christian. What type of church do you hate or dislike? I don't *hate* or even "dislike" any just for their existence. Who would you want to be the flower girl at your wedding? My niece Aubree, buuut considering there's a 99% chance I'll be marrying a woman, her dad would never allow it. It might even be "too far" for Ash. What group are you most active in on Facebook? None. I pay most attention to the WoW ones I'm in, but I don't really take part, especially since I'm not currently playing. Are you ashamed of anything? Yes. What were your favorite Disney rides as a kid? I think it was called Splash Mountain? Have you read the entire Bible? No. How old were you when you first dyed your hair? Uhhh however old I was my freshman year of high school since middle didn't allow dyed hair. Do you dye your hair regularly? No, sadly. ;-; Can't afford to. What is the most comfortable type of pants, in your opinion? Pj pants, man. Do you think you have what it takes to make it big in the entertainment biz? HAHA NO. Do you have a job now? If so, what is it? No. Currently going through VR to hopefully change that. List 10 favorite girls’ names. Alessandra, Josephine, Evangeline, Chloe, Evelyn, Fallon, Heather, Amani, Violet, and Ellie. List 10 favorite boys’ names. Damien, Vincent, Victor, Luther, Severin, Alexander, Aiden, Jaxson, Shawn, and Jamie. Which stereotype do you fit the most? Uhhhh idk?? Geek??? Are you thankful for social media, or do you wish it didn’t exist? I'm thankful for it. Do you think social media is beneficial? Or is it destructive? It's perfectly capable of being either. Have you ever been socially awkward? Hi, I'm Brittany. How old were you when you started puberty? Around 11? Do you think of baby names you like often? No. What health issues do you have? B O I severe social and generalized anxiety, AvPD, chronic depression, bipolar 2, OCD, PTSD, I think ADD, vertigo, inactive MRSA, severe dry mouth, the humiliating excessive sweating, carpal tunnel in both wrists, we're tryna figure out the fuck's wrong with my knees, and moderate-severe tremors. Is that it???? What are some health problems you have had in the past? Insomnia seemed to fuck off thank Christ, ear infections. What are some of the best medications you’ve ever had? The medical combo that is partially responsible for saving my life is Latuda + Lamictal. What is your favorite pizza topping? It depends on the place that makes the pizza, but to be safe, I get pepperoni at most places. Who are your favorite small YouTubers? Johny Paranormal is a sweetheart, but I don't watch him regularly. Most others I watch have at least/almost 1M subs, so I don't think you could call them "small." Have you ever made money off of YouTube? No. What was a video you watched over and over as a kid? Oh my GOD there was this guy who made a video to "Gasolina" by whoever-the-fuck and Nicole and I were obsessed with it??? Do you own a pair of fishnets? Gloves. Are you sore right now? No. Have you ever experienced depression as a side effect? Lol I'm diagnosed with it, so. Because I have bipolarity too though but was medicated for depression, my bipolar symptoms were worsened and thus sometimes depression. (Learned being on anti-depressants while simultaneously being bipolar is only destructive.) Have you ever been suicidal as a withdrawal symptom? I don't believe so. How old were you when you got braces? Idk, sometime in middle school? How old were you when you started wearing glasses (if applicable)? High school, I think?? Are you good at remembering names? NO. When was the last time you held someone’s hand? Few days back at the movie theater. A preview for a movie that took place in a psych hospital came on, so Mom grabbed my hand tight, knowing it gave me bad memories. I was all right, but. Woulda rather not have seen it. Movie looked stupid anyway. Do you prefer earbuds or headphones? Earbuds. Block out sound and you hear everything so well. Could you possibly write a successful novel? I honestly feel I'm capable, but I won't. Do you have any clothes with spikes/studs on them? I have a spiked choker and a studded bracelet, but I think that's it rn. If you had to get a portrait tattoo, who would it be of? Dead serious, I want to at some point get Darkiplier's first appearance/smile above/to the side of my left elbow by a really professional artist. I'll take my stanning behavior to the grave. Do you get exercise daily? No, but I really would like a treadmill. Something easy like that. Work my shit knees, too. Which emoji would you be most apt to dress up as? I don't????? know???????? Which do you think is better, DIY costume or storebought costumes? DIY!! You can get sooo creative. Do you stay out of stupid arguments online? I try to. I'll butt in though if I feel it necessary and/or beneficial. Do you want a new phone? Why or why not? More like I need one. Drops calls randomly, restarts at random, doesn't always do what I click. What book do you think should be made into a movie? Idk. Do you know anyone with a service dog? No. Do you like babies? Why or why not? Nooooo. Annoying as actual fuck, can't properly communicate with them, needy as hell, etc. etc. I'm not at all expecting anything more from them, they're babies, I personally just don't usually enjoy them. What is something most people don't know about you? I RP. Did you earn a title in the senior class polls? If so, what? No. How many teachers have bullied you? None. Have you ever ridden in an ambulance? No. Snickerdoodles or s'mores? S'mores! What is something you remember enjoying very much as a small child? Webkinz. As a child, were you a sore loser or a sore winner? I don't believe so. Did you play with siblings, neighborhood kids, or by yourself? All of those. Have you ever, or would you like to attend a gaming or comic convention? YEAH. What's your opinion on online multiplayer games? Well, I went through a WoW addiction, so I obviously didn't hate it. I tend to enjoy single-player, though. Who is the most important person in your life (besides yourself)? Sara. Do you find it easy to make friends now? If not, what makes it difficult? NO BC I FEAR HUMAN INTERACTION AND JUDGMENT. If you live alone, what would be your criteria for a roommate? I don't live alone. But let's say I did: No drugs, no smoking, female, CLEAN UP AFTER YOURSELF, and by this point, you'd probably have to be my s/o. I'm almost 23 so am more interested in working towards settling down in a place with her versus nightly sleepovers with a friend. How about criteria for a spouse, if you're single? Jfc a lot, I am PICKY. What is something you do every day without fail? Go to the bathroom when I wake up. What is your typical breakfast? Cereal or a meal supplement shake. Or nothing. Is there a TV show you watch habitually? No. Where do you usually spend most of your day? In my room. Do you usually have something playing in the background when you're home? Yup, either a let's play (only background /usually/ if I've already visually watched it and I'm just revisiting) or music. Where do you usually get your groceries? Wal-Mart or Harris Teeter. What is your favorite fruit? Strawberries. How about your favorite berry? ^ Which trait in a person do you find most appealing? Compassionate. Care for more than yourself. Which trait puts you instantly off? Cockiness. Who is an actor/actress who you dislike so much you can't watch them? No one. Do you donate money to any charities? If so, which ones? I can't currently as I don't have a source of income. If you have pets, are any of them rescues from shelters? No. Have you ever had to rely on other people's charity? When we got evicted, yes. Is there a charity you absolutely never ever will trust? There are some that I know are full of shit, but nothing's coming to mind at the moment. Have you ever donated to a cause that had a person going door to door? No. Is there a book series you're currently collecting? No. Which website do you frequent the most? YouTube and KM. Do you judge people who have their phones out all the time? If so, why? Not really... It's where we are now. Technology is truly the dominant species. If your connection goes down, what do you do? Restart the router. Is there something you wish you could do online that isn't possible yet? Sure, like uh. Oh yeah lemme fucking hug YouTubers when they hug the camera and that sort'a shit. What was a website you used to frequent that doesn't exist anymore? Uhhh... I don't know about them no longer existing. Maybe this HUGE flash game site we used to go on. Do/Did you ever have your own website? For photography I do. Have you ever kissed an ex after you two have broken up? No. When was the last time you talked to your most recent ex? It's been quite a while, actually. Are you racist to any race? No. Can you break dance? No. Have you made out with anyone in the last 2 weeks? Yes. She was ready and it was the cutest shit on Earth because she'd never done so before and had no clue what to do so we were giggling uncontrollably. Literally one of the purest experiences in my life. Have you shaved your legs in the past three days? I haven't shaved my legs since like June. Have you ever been professionally waxed? How did you find it? If you haven’t, is it something you’d consider trying? Eyebrows, yeah. It's a better way than plucking. What do you think of very cheap airlines, such as Ryanair? Would you fly with them or would you rather pay more for better service? Biiiitch no, I wanna feel safe. Does your mom like the last person you kissed? She loves her. Is there a secret you've never told your parents? Yes. Who last gave you their number? Uhhhh good question. Honestly, are you afraid to die? I mean I sure don't want to yet, but I'm not especially *afraid* of it. Have you ever had an ice cream cake for your birthday? No, not a big fan. Did you get a car the minute you turned sixteen? Lol I still don't have one. What do you want to major in? Zoology. When was the last time you kissed someone who was younger than you? The 17th. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex? Yeah.

[itslvca-blog]

introducing,

waddup, peeps ?? this tiny bean goes by the name of rue ( she/her ) and i’ll be playing soft boy™, luca rosario. he’s pretty much a new faceclaim for me with an old character’s background. however, francisco has recently become my forever fave, therefore i’m so excited to have the opportunity to play him !! if you would like to hmu for plots / scream about connections all day long, please give this a like and i’ll come wiggling into your ims ( or discord; find me at justrue#2233 ) shortly after. under the cut, you’ll find a brief summary about luca and his life. also all my wcs are listed over here if you wanna check that out as well. his stats can be found here too. can’t wait to start interacting !!

+ disclaimer: very slight talks of cancer and mental health are below. read at your discretion.

layer one: the stats.

name. luca leonardo rosario.

alias. people usually just call him by luca but sometimes luke, luki, or leo make an appearance.

title. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

name meaning. his true significance of his name means a bringer of light.

age. eighteen years old.

gender identity. cis-male.

pronouns. he/him.

sexual orientation. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

current residence. boston, massachusetts.

religion. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was fifteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to luca, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in god. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

spoken languages. portuguese  (fluent/main), english (fluent/2nd main), french and polish (still learning but can understand it quite well).

education. currently a senior at houghton academy.

layer two: the story.

- so this is my baby boy, luca rosario and i love him sm ?? he usually goes by luca, but on occasion people call him either luke, luki, or leo. but he doesn’t care what people call him as long as it’s kind.

- luca was born in san paulo, brazil to both loving and supportive parents named jeremi and mariana. he lived there until he was six years old when his family moved to boston because his parents, who are both marine biologists, were located for work.

- his parents had him when they were both young.

- luca was also born out of wedlock, so by the time his parents decided to marry two years after he was born, his parents had already made the decision to give him his mother’s maiden name even though his father’s surname is polish.

- growing up, he had and still does, have a great relationship with his parents. with his childhood consisting nothing more than love and devotion from his parents, luca had nothing to complain about. his parents loved him dearly, whose pure heart and open-mindedness they helped to cultivate. they encouraged luca’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. his parents had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as they explained to him—kindness has power, and that they would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

- cancer/mental illness tw: when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. upon hearing the news, luca’s whole world clasped. not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), one of the most important people in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. so many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. he has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. however, that didn’t and doesn’t stop luca from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. the entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

- he has brother, who is three years younger than him, named tomás. his relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged. as much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they have a tendency to butt heads often. whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along. sometimes people believe they aren’t actually related or that they’re half siblings because when his brother was born, he took their father’s last name.

- most people would describe luca as the benevolent. despite being in a world where there’s hatred and suffering, luca declares himself independent and strong-willed by remaining kind-hearted and self-loving, not allowing the bitterness surrounding his life to overtake him and morph him into someone as cruel as the world seems to be every day. he makes the most of his life by remaining optimistic of the possibilities of a brighter future. but besides that, he’s also witty and sarcastic. he is unafraid to stand up for himself when he feels he’s in the right–or at least, attempt to do so. and although he strives to contain his optimism aura, he can fall into fits of frustration and annoyance quite often.

- he’s also super quiet and shy. he loves to make friends but because of his quiet complex, he usually has trouble speaking up and making his voice heard. he tends to become flustered a lot too when he can’t express his emotions; which he has trouble doing anyway when he’s not flustered.

- luca is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. he doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. rarely opens up because of this.

- to put it plan and simple luca is an art ho. luca always loved anything artistic. even when he was little, he would go around with his disposable camera and take pictures of everything and then take to paper to draw of all the things he had taken pictures of as well.

- he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke. no seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. it’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon.

- he strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself ( not just through photography and painting ) and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo.

-  his appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of cute hipster shit. he’s clothes are v flow-y but don’t let that fool you. he doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper-middle class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you ( he’s a fashion ho too ). his hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

[webgeekist]

Holiday Karma Pie

I paid for someone’s groceries today.

I didn’t do it for the karma. I didn’t even do it for the charity. I did it because the lady in front of me was having technical issues, and the less-than-$30 bill was worth sparing my sanity and getting out of that line. I played it off as a Christmas thing, asked the lady to pay it forward, and assured her that, yes, I was serious when I said it was no big deal. It wasn’t. I was happy to pay to get out of there.

I have a habit of picking the worst grocery lines. I thought, for a while, it was just this new place I’m in, but then I went home for Thanksgiving and went through 20 minutes of hell waiting for the family in front of me to finish arguing with the cashier about the $20 in savings they weren’t getting because their coupons weren’t scanning, or whatever other nonsense was preventing them from scanning an entire conveyor belt full of items, $200 and two carts into the bill. We moved to another line, finally, when one seemed available nearby. When we left with our own hefty bill in the cart, they were still there, slowly scanning the rest of their items.

I am also the person who will pick up the one item out of 100 without a bar code, and take three of them to the checkout lane.

It’s funny, this idea that you can buy karma with good deeds, as if your motivations don’t count. I’ve seen The Good Place. I know better than that. My motivation today was entirely self-serving, as is most charity in this country. We overwhelmingly donate our time or our money because it makes us feel better about ourselves, not because we genuinely care about giving. We’re scared into doing the “right thing” by a book that has been mistranslated and misinterpreted for centuries, and somehow have this warped idea that doing the right thing will buy us grace. Good Karma. A spot in heaven. Optimal reincarnation. At the end, there’s always something in it for us.

I’m no better than others in that regard. I do good deeds infrequently, and when I do, it’s almost always born of convenience. “Would you like to pay an extra 63 cents to round up your bill and donate to the Children’s hospital?” Sure. “Would you like to donate a dollar to aid in wildfire relief for Sonoma County?” Whatever. “Give a dollar to homeless pets?” Okay. “Save free information!” Click.

The result is positive for the recipient. That doesn’t make the motive for donation genuine.

And it doesn’t make the universe less likely to balance out your good luck with misfortune.

I think about that a lot. I’m always grateful for the positive experiences in my life, but I’m hyper aware of the fact that they often come at a premium. There’s a trade owed the universe, and you will pay it in painful ways. Maybe it’s a hard lesson you need to learn after you land your dream job. Maybe it’s illness, recovery, and loss after you find a few years of companionship. Maybe it’s your family turning their back on you a month before your wedding to the love of your life. And oh, by the way, she’s a girl and you are, too.

I’ve enjoyed two years with my fiancée. I marry her in 23 days. How many of my family will actually show up? At this point, I’m not sure.

I took a job in the Bay Area in July. It wasn’t so sudden that my fiancée didn’t have input. She absolutely did, and though we didn’t expect to be able to afford Northern California, we’re happy we could make this work. Or, at least, that we will make this work after June, which is when her teacher’s contract runs out in Texas. I’ve raked up so many frequent flyer miles, going back and forth every spare moment, and in the airspace between SFO and DAL, I’ve uncovered an anxiety I never expected to have: a fear of flying.

I have flown a Cessna. I have logged hours in a genuine full-scale 737-700 simulator. My dad was a professional pilot at one point in his life, my uncle still is, and all his kids can fly. My grandfather flew for the Thunderbirds. My brother is on his way to being a commercial pilot. I am not afraid of planes.

I started crying and choking before walking through security. I panicked when I booked tickets. If not for some of them being booked immediately after I got the job, I would not have gotten on a plane after September, but I’ve been on five trips since, fifteen total, and for most of them the what-ifs and potential loss has consumed me to the point of paralysis. Every bump and adjustment on takeoff freaks me the fuck out. The changing sounds of the engines at different altitudes and powers freaks me the fuck out. It’s taken every moment of every one of those harrowing trips to learn how to manage the anxiety, to rationalize the noises I hear from the engines, to normalize the dips and turns out of each Bay Area airport, but come Thanksgiving, when I climbed on a plane for the first long break I’d gotten at the new company, when I was so over the project I was working on that I was relieved to be standing at another fucking gate and boarding another fucking plane, all the stress management techniques I’d gathered in my anxiety did nothing to stop me from experiencing sheer terror flying out of SJC, meeting some bumpy air, banking to head south down the coast to catch a connecting flight out of LAX and bouncing around in the turn. I landed at SAT five hours later, cried in relief when the plane touched down (I always do, and I thank the plane for getting me there. That plane’s name was Tank. I gave it that name.), and stumbled into the terminal as fast as my eighth row seat would allow.

And then, I went to my family’s Thanksgiving.

I should precede this with the statement that the nine days my fiancée and I spent at my mom’s house started fairly early on with some culture shock. My fiancée is in grad school, and one of her class assignments was a “cultural plunge.” That’s a hilarious concept, because her entire life is a cultural plunge. She was born in Houston, but raised completely in India, went to college in Singapore, and came back to the states after. Living here has been one awkward learning experience after another, and with her brown skin, it’s also often been an experience of racism, of profiling, of assumptions made by ignorant people. She can’t go through an airport without getting her bag inspected and a pat-down (that happened once with my mother, and after we told her that no, my brown fiancée really does get profiled, and my mom damn near got herself arrested chewing the TSA agents out because how dare you treat her daughter like that. Yes, my mom is privileged. But, go Mom). Her background in science has often made living in Texas not unlike living on an alien world where logic and reason are outlawed. And oh, she’s a lesbian too. Discrimination trifecta.

Anyway, she submitted the idea of going to a Catholic Church on Sunday and staying for a mass as a cultural plunge, because unlike her white middle-class native Texan classmates, this was something she’d never done before.

I mean, what are the odds that they’d pick a gospel that would somehow relate to one of the many hot-button issues that any church in a red state could pick? The Pope is fairly liberal for a Catholic, and neither my mother nor I really remembered the sermons being terribly political.

Clearly, it’s been a while since we attended church.

My mother was horrified. Here was an opportunity for her to show her daughter-in-law a bit of her culture, and her upbringing, and therefore a bit of where my own morals and morality comes from. Here’s a chance for her to prove to me that the church of her childhood might have had these tenants but the sermons didn’t get into specifics, and people mostly just tried to Love Thy Neighbor.

I was pissed. I glared hard at the deacon as he climbed off the dais and walked back to his seat, and I’m certain he saw me. I’m certain he paused for a half-step because he saw my face, which I’ve been told can be really menacing when I’m angry. I don’t keep my emotions to myself very often. I don’t have a poker face like my fiancée.

She couldn’t muster that face. She was openly crying and trying not to show it. This church – this remarkably diverse church where she didn’t stick out like a sore thumb, which had epistles in three languages, which was holding a bake sale as we walked in had on its staff a white conservative deacon who took an unrelated Gospel and warped it into a hateful political rant that didn’t hit one button. Oh no. That sermon was an IED array and it hit every single freaking target on the list.

We left during the Eucharist, and we didn’t buy a pie on the way out.

Five days after this experience that left us all in a drinking mood, and which after several bottles of wine was still a little painful, we went to the Thanksgiving party with my dad’s side of the family.

A lot of my aunts, uncles, and cousins seemed genuinely excited about the wedding. There was a bit of a shadow over one of my aunts because her father is really, really ill. Dad and my stepmother told a story about my grandmother, the escape artist, who is probably a lot more together than they think but who was put in an old folk’s home for people with memory problems about two months ago. I dread going to see her because the last time I saw her in a rehab facility, after she knocked her head and suffered the brain trauma that probably drove a lot of the symptoms she still has, it was a little difficult. It’s not going to be easy to see her in a home that isn’t actually her house. She apparently agrees, because she treats visitors to a tour of the place and asks a lot of pointed questions, like how many nurses are at the front station and whether or not you think someone can get to the parking lot from any given set of doors. She’s an inmate in a place she doesn’t feel comfortable staying, and she’s already made it to her car with an overnight bag once. But they have the keys locked up. I think she’s trying to figure out where they are.

She recognizes me. Remembers my name. Knows the wedding is soon. Asks about California. Hugs my future wife. And maybe goes through a few names before she gets some of my cousins’ and uncles’ names right, but she’s been doing that since I was four. We’re a big family. She always gets it right in under six tries.

My aunt looks hesitant to talk about her father, but she does. Both of us listen as she expresses her fears about being away, even for a day or two, because the doctors haven’t been very precise in telling the family to “spend time with him while you can.” It could be days, or maybe months, but probably not through winter because winter seems to be when so many people go, like the warmth-starved land sucks them dry. Which is weird, because we’re all from South Texas, and winter there is like 80 degrees.

We sympathize, and a pang of something I have only been able to define recently shoots through me. It feels like mortality, and reminds me of my fear of flying. It reminds me that I have this thing, this person, this state of being that I found and eventually will lose, that the loss won’t come when I’m ready for it (because that is never. I will never be ready for it). My heart hurts for her and my cousins, because the man is in his 80s like my two surviving grandparents, and that is a long and accomplished life, but it is still too soon for all of them. We have fought for my grandmother often enough and recent enough that I understand that position, too.

Hours later, before the annual turkey bowl, that aunt and my uncle, plus their oldest son come find my fiancée and I in the upstairs game room where most of the cousins retreat after lunch and before football. They ask us both to come out onto the balcony with them for a few minutes. Their younger son, recently married, follows shortly after with his new bride.

And my cousin starts….with a prayer.

“Heavenly Father, please guide our conversation today in your wisdom and light.”

I have my fiancée’s hand in my own. I hold it tighter. I know where this is about to go.

My cousin is a stalwart, honest guy. He’s the eldest son of two people who have always given where they could. They drop what they’re doing to help people, simply because they need help. They give within their means, which are better means than most. Their big and open hearts were passed to two of their three sons, both of whom were standing on that balcony with them. But they are sinners, my cousin says, all of them. And he is no better than anyone. He cannot cast judgment upon sinners as one of them, as someone who has been addicted to pornography, and has crossed lines with women. He loves us both, they all do, but surely we’ve read what the Bible says and it’s wrong, wrong, wrong.

My uncle says to us, we love you. We will not change how we treat you…but we’ve prayed about this for a while, and we can’t go to the wedding.

“We can’t celebrate the sin,” my cousin says.

And I know they love us, the best way they know how. I told them that I understood their perspective, though I disagreed, and respected their decision. We hugged, my aunt called me big-hearted, someone mentioned chocolate (it might have been me), and they started filing off the balcony.

I stayed behind and broke down in my fiancee’s arms.

See, my family had been outwardly accepting until that moment, when something finally broke enough for the first people to say something about it. And my fiancée – my tall, brown, “foreign” fiancée who has tried so hard to get my family to like her – felt instantly like all that effort had been for absolutely nothing. And I? I felt guilty for putting her in that position, for forcing us into a position where my family may never truly be okay with any of this, where a lifetime of loving and supporting each other so demonstratively may yet be lost on so many people I love, because somehow our relationship all boils down to sex to some people. Theirs is about love, but ours is about sex, and lust, and sin, and how the context of the Bible may be all about polyamorous lustful activities but a committed, loving, monogamous relationship between two women is just the same as sexually abusing guests and having orgies in front of idols and a really vague Greek word which in context probably means “men who sleep with boy prostitutes” but magically includes all people who engage in the act of sodomy and well never mind that you’re not actually doing that you’re just the same as the literal “man bed” who will not inherit the kingdom of heaven.

Maybe karma can keep that paradise, because I don’t want to spend eternity in a place where loving companionship is the same as assault. I get enough of that in the news.

It took me a while to come out of the bathroom I found to hide in, because there was no amount of water that could bring the redness down, and eventually my fiancée brought my closest cousin to find me. She saw us walk out, she counted the time, and she knew something had gone wrong. We told her what had happened.

This is the brewing rift. There are some people in our family who sit in Catholic services every Sunday and are not only going to the wedding but are genuinely excited for it. And there are some who might yet show up, but will be at the bar a lot.

Those excited for it will probably not enjoy learning why so many of us are absent. What happens then is probably not high drama, but probably won’t be business as usual either. Said my closest cousin, “I don’t know what to do with them now. You have a bigger heart than me for walking out of that situation without coming downstairs and telling everyone about it immediately.”

Twice in one day, in different contexts, two people I care about made reference to my perfectly normal sized, potentially smaller than average heart. Karma revealed the consequences of my good fortune that night, and they continue to unfold by the minute. For the first time in my life, I may miss Christmas with that side of the family this year. I suspect it won’t be the last thing we miss.

I climbed on the plane to come back to California two days later, and cried over the root of the problem with all these flights: the separation has been torture, and after the emotional week we had, it was going to be hard for us to heal apart. I put on my noice-canceling earphones and turned on Radiolab just before takeoff. It was a podcast about a girl without an identity, whose family kept her sheltered and off the grid, who didn’t have any kind of paper trail because her parents didn’t believe in social security numbers, and so never let her have one. I flew over Kerrville, where she had lived most of her life, while listening to the story. Takeoff was smooth. So was most of the trip back to SJC. And except for a really rough patch of air over New Mexico on the way to Dallas on Friday, my flights this weekend were just as painless.

I landed at SFO on Sunday and thanked the plane, as usual.

My eyes were dry.

[septembersung]

It’s been a long time since I’ve talked about how I came to the Traditional mass, so since the topic is on anyway: The long and short of it is the TLM was instrumental in my conversion and I wouldn’t be Catholic without it. All my words fall short, but I would dearly love to be able to tell the world with any kind of accuracy why it is so incredible, and why the world needs it.

I was baptized as a toddler and attended a typical tiny backwoods Novus Ordo parish for most of my childhood. There were maybe six kids, lots of elderly, a couple parents, and two or three high schoolers. There I learned such insightful theology as, there’s not really any good reason for women not to be priests. I did, however, have the benefit of reading the Bible a lot more thoroughly than was typical - even if I didn’t have anyone to explain it to me. On the verge of my teenage years we moved and our new parish was bigger, though with still (proportionally) tiny youth engagement. Our religious ed teachers were well-meaning but had no idea what they were talking about. Their idea of a retreat was to sit in total darkness and listen to sappy music. I quit going to mass, got confirmed, and continued not going to mass. But, praise God, I went to an orthodox Catholic college. There was a lot of Catholic Lite culture in the air, which I avoided studiously, correctly identifying it as a quasi-Protestant emotion-fest - the sugar-high version of what my high school parish was trying to instill in us. But my theology professors were the real deal. For the first time there were people who could tell me what the content of the faith was, show me its history, actually answer questions, and identify and shoot down wrongheaded lines of inquiry. It was a revelation. I promptly spent a solid year and a half studying interreligious dialogue - entering the study of truth by the back door, as it were. At the end of that, having run up against the un-negotiable “stumbling block” of Christ, whose claim to be Truth and have given it in fullness to his Church cannot be watered down or explained away, I gave up, signed on as a theology major, and got down to the business of figuring just what this “arrogant” Church had to say for herself. I was still not going to mass. My saving graces - and I mean grace literally - were a fear and awe of the Eucharist, and an emotional devotion to Our Lady.

By my senior year, I was, personally, six kinds of a wreck (which is a whole other story) but also convinced that if Catholicism wasn’t true, nothing was - whether or not I could learn to live it. Into that latent conviction, a total unwillingness to deal with its looming consequences for me, and my generally wrecky life entered a new boyfriend, stage right: he was very smart, very handsome, very stubborn, and a convert. I knew within weeks that we were destined for each other. (Spoiler alert: we got married a year and a half later.) Our arguments about politics, culture, and religion shook walls. We were both wrong, in different ways, and helped make each other more right. That Holy Week, he asked me go to the Traditional Latin Triduum and Easter Vigil. I reluctantly agreed. It could no longer be put off: I had finally come to a reckoning with the Person behind all the theology. I got my sorry butt to confession, the start of a long and painful ongoing process, and we went.

I didn’t like it.

But I was also not happy - and never had been - with the NO. 

Fast forward: We were engaged and in grad school - in different states, but within driving distance. I was the only one with a working vehicle, so I was the one who traveled. It was very important to us that we prioritize seeing each other face to face during our engagement, so we sacrificed a lot of time and money to make it happen regularly. Being apart was very hard on our relationship. One Saturday night when I wasn’t visiting, he told me he’d found a new church to check out tomorrow, he’s excited to visit it, and can’t wait to tell me about it. 

I waited. all. day. All day. It was late, after dinner time, when I finally heard back from him. Turns out it’s way in the middle of nowhere service is spotty, and he stayed from the morning mass all the way through dinner. He was excited about the great group of people, the hospitable priest who hosted regular come-as-you-are, quasi-potluck Sunday dinners at the rectory - and the priest offered the Latin Mass. 

Thus began my love affair with the usus antiquor. He went every Sunday, and I went as often as I visited. I started going to the monthly low mass at my own local church. He bought me a missal, and I learned how to use it. I started comparing the old and the new rite, both reflectively and analytically. I started reading about the changes and went down all the rabbit holes regarding Vatican II. (I’d studied Vatican II in college, but it was strictly the texts. Looking back, I see that the professor very carefully walked a fine line of subject matter that allowed him to neuter the “spirit of Vatican II!” version of history without actually getting into what happened before and after the Council. But I digress.) I had to engage, body and soul and mind, with the mass, and my own faith - not just an intellectual study anymore, or something to be endured because that’s just what Catholics on Sunday, I was confronted with the foundational questions: What’s the point of the mass? Why, why any of it? It was a humbling process, a spiritual crucible. All at once I wasn’t just a disembodied intellect asking probing questions, but a soul face-to-face with her Creator, Judge, and Redeemer, applying theology to my own life: what do I owe to God? how do I fulfill that obligation? Where do I encounter Him? What is being asked of me? And miracle of miracles, I had this wonderful community to help me as I went through this process.

Fast forward a number of years: that little church is where we got married, in the old rite, and where our first child was baptized, also in the old rite. Since then we’ve moved twice and had more children, but wherever we go, travel, or plan to move, we go to the TLM. It’s the solid foundation of our family life. Our kids are growing up inundated with beauty, reverence, and a sense of the sacred. We’re very lucky; in our current city, the TLM community has the use of a beautiful church and a rotation of pastors, one of whom also runs the most successful and reverent parish in the city, who offer mass for us every Sunday, some weekdays (at various locations), and most holy days. (And for Holy Week, as a church can have only one holy week and not two in different rites, we are able to make a pilgrimage, as it were, to an FSSP church.)

The ancient rite opened up the presence and person of Christ for me in a way that nothing else, certainly not the NO mass, ever had. I finally understood the point and purpose of the liturgy, and therefore of the whole Christian life. I had to check my pride and my assumptions and my self-satisfaction at the door and be broken open in a brand new way. I had to take Christ on His terms, or not at all. The old rite embodies the truth of the Catholic faith - it lives them, and for the person who embraces them, makes that person to live them. It’s not an add-on to our lives, it doesn’t fit in neatly with the rest of our modern existence. It makes itself the foundation and center of everything, because it is the dwelling place of Christ, and we are meant and made to dwell with Him. 

The old mass and everything that goes with it, all the things that were cut out of the new order when it was invented, the prayers and the obligations and the seasonal markers and the theology, the way of seeing God and ourselves and the Church and the world, is the living tradition of the Catholic faith, our unbroken link to all and everyone that has come before us. In the old calendar, we celebrate feasts on the same days that the great saints of the past did; we sing the same chants and say the same prayers; it’s bigger than we are, and because it’s focused on God, exclusively, and not on ourselves, it heals us and helps us and transforms us in a way that anthropocentric styles of prayer never can. The old life of the Church doesn’t bring God down to our level, but transforms us, raises us up to Him. 

So much of what we take for granted today about the mass, about the faith, so many of the attitudes and assumptions that we have absorbed or been taught, are wrong. Point blank, they are wrong, they are in conflict with what the Church taught for millennia, they are not “of the mind of the Church,” and they have been wreaking havoc on Catholic life for going on a century now. I have made a special study of this history of ideas and their effects over the years, and it is ongoing. The more I learn, the harder I find it to summarize to others just what’s wrong with the way contemporary Catholicism is practiced, and the more profoundly grateful I am that I was brought - by human love - into the fulness of Catholic tradition. Now that I have the benefit of nearly five years of almost exclusive TLM attendance, I wonder how I ever lived without it. I have very strong feelings about it; it’s the driving force behind my desire to evangelize because now I understand what I’m inviting people to share. Not a set of intellectual propositions, not a feeling, but a way of life that boldly and unapologetically has Christ enthroned at its center - a tangible way to see and worship that involves the whole person, body and soul, that makes demands on us. I wish I could bring all of my friends, Catholic and non-Catholic, to a glorious high mass at a beautiful church with all the smells and bells. Because the glory of Christ is there, and His glory is ours.

I went through some tags to find some things I’ve written before: Latin in mass, “NO vs TLM feels”, why I came and stayed for the TLM, book recs, Latin and the vernacular.

If you want to understand more about the TLM, the new books I’m recommending to everyone are Kwasniewski’s Noble Beauty, Transcendent Holiness and Fr. Jackson’s Nothing Superfluous.

[ohlvca-blog]

INTRODUCING,

» francisco lachowski & twenty-two & cismale.「 after checking isabella’s diary, we saw luca rosario show up many times. apparently, he is a fashion photographer that isabella called her mutual friend. she mentions that they can be compassionate yet naive, and our background check says luca has lived here one month. if we move fast, we might catch them at the photo lab. 」

waddup, peeps ?? this tiny bean goes by the name of rue ( she/her ) and i’ll be playing Soft Boy™, luca rosario. he’s pretty much a new faceclaim for me with an old character’s background. however, francisco has recently become my forever Fave, therefore i’m so excited to have the opportunity to play him !! if you would like to hmu for plots / scream about connections all day long, please give this a LIKE and i’ll come wiggling into your ims ( or discord; find me at justrue#2233 ) shortly after. under the cut, you’ll find a brief summary about luca and his life. also all my wcs are listed over HERE if you wanna check that out as well. can’t wait to start interacting !! 

+ disclaimer: very slight talks of cancer and mental health are below. read at your discretion.

LAYER ONE: THE STATS.

NAME. luca leonardo rosario. he was born out of wedlock, so he took his mother’s name at birth even though his father’s surname is polish.

ALIAS. people usually just call him by luca but sometimes luke, luki, or leo make an appearance.

TITLE. over time, he has proudly deemed himself an obsessive pizza addict, artistic nutcase, or one of the missing dead poets society members.

NAME MEANING. his true significance of his name means a bringer of light.

AGE. twenty-two years old.

GENDER IDENTITY. cis-male.

PRONOUNS. he/him.

SEXUAL ORIENTATION. predominately panromantic demisexual. it isn’t so much so that luca is completely disinterested in sex (he’s got a perfectly good libido, thank you very much), he just doesn’t find himself sexually attracted to people based on physical appearance or initial impressions. instead he finds personality, intellect, and existing emotional attachment considerably more compelling. the idea of intimacy with somebody he’s not close with rather repulses him.

CURRENT RESIDENCE. he currently lives in venice, california but he travels quite often for his job, so residency usually fluctuates depending on how long he stays there. 

BIRTHPLACE. san paulo, brazil.

NATIONALITY. brazilian.

ETHNICITY. half portuguese and german on mother side, half polish on father side.

RELIGION. he was raised roman catholic but converted to spiritual agnosticism when he was eighteen. he views that universal ethics and love are far more important than claims about any deity and trivialize the arguments supporting or rejecting such claims. to luca, it doesn’t matter which religion someone might follow, nor does it matter whether or not someone believes in God. what matters is what someone does, not what they believe. he has his parents’ full support in his switch even though the rest of his family practices catholism.

SPOKEN LANGUAGES. portuguese (fluent/main), english (fluent/2nd main), french (still learning but can understand it quite well).

EDUCATION. graduated with the bachelor of fine arts in photography and painting at the school of visual arts in nyc.

PROFESSION. he works as a full-time fashion/commercial photographer. meaning, he works with different agencies such as fashion magazines, building, modeling, landscapes, etc. he’s also usually on location and travels a lot for his career.

LAYER TWO: THE STORY.

- so this is my baby boy, luca rosario and i love him sm ?? he usually goes by luca, but on occasion people call him either luke, luki, or leo. but he doesn’t care what people call him as long as it’s kind.

- luca was born in san paulo, brazil to both loving and supportive parents named jeremi and mariana. he lived there until he was six years old when his family moved to maryland because his parents, who are both marine biologists, were relocated for work.

- his parents had him when they were both young, making his parents both twenty-two when he was born. 

- luca was also born out of wedlock, so by the time his parents decided to marry two years later, his parents had already made the decision to give him his mother’s maiden name even though his father’s last name is polish.

- growing up, he had and still does, have a great relationship with his parents. with his childhood consisting nothing more than love and devotion from his parents, luca had nothing to complain about. his parents loved him dearly, whose pure heart and open-mindedness they helped to cultivate. they encouraged luca’s belief in extraordinary things and hoped he had carried it throughout his life growing up. his parents had always made him promise to have courage and be kind to others, for—as they explained to him—kindness has power, and that they would see him through all the trials that life could offer, in life and death.

- cancer/mental illness tw: when he was thirteen, his mother had been diagnosed with cervical cancer. upon hearing the news, luca’s whole world clasped. not only was he at a pivotal stage in his life where everything was changing and becoming more stressful ( becoming a teenager, starting high school, going through puberty ), one of the most important people in his life had be claimed by the deadly disease altogether. so many thoughts and feelings were going through his mind at the time, that he ran himself physically sick and had experienced his first panic attack. he has since been medically diagnosed with panic disorder. thankfully the cells on his mother’s cervix were diagnosed at precancerous stage and the doctors were able to treat it because it developed and spread. however, that didn’t and doesn’t stop luca from being in a constantly state of panic every time his mother so much as feels pain or coughs due to irrelevant reasons. the entire year had changed him and his family for a while.

- he has brother, who is three years younger than him, named tomás. his relationship with his brother, however, is a bit estranged. as much as he loves his brother and wishes they could see eye-to-eye, sometimes they have a tendency to butt heads often. whether that might mean your typical sibling arguments or full-on blown out fights, they just can’t seem to see get along. sometimes people believe they aren’t actually related or that they’re half siblings because when his brother was born, he took their father’s last name.

- most people would describe luca as the benevolent. despite being in a world where there’s hatred and suffering, luca declares himself independent and strong-willed by remaining kind-hearted and self-loving, not allowing the bitterness surrounding his life to overtake him and morph him into someone as cruel as the world seems to be every day. he makes the most of his life by remaining optimistic of the possibilities of a brighter future. but besides that, he’s also witty and sarcastic. he is unafraid to stand up for himself when he feels he’s in the right–or at least, attempt to do so. and although he strives to contain his optimism aura, he can fall into fits of frustration and annoyance quite often.

- he’s also super quiet and shy. he loves to make friends but because of his quiet complex, he usually has trouble speaking up and making his voice heard. he tends to become flustered a lot too when he can’t express his emotions; which he has trouble doing anyway when he’s not flustered.

- luca is capable of enduing tremendous hardship. though he may not handle difficulty in the healthiest or best way, often repressing emotion, he mostly like emerges on the other side. he doesn’t know how to express his emotions in a diplomatic way, but rather fumbles it all up and starts to ramble. rarely opens up because of this.

- to put it plan and simple luca is an art ho. he even went to university for it too ( the audacity of it all smh ). luca always loved anything artistic. even when he was little, he would go around with his disposable camera and take pictures of everything and then take to paper to draw of all the things he had taken pictures of as well. 

- he’s like a hippie dippy child of the universe. no joke. no seriously, his place at home is full of sensual shit and art. it’s getting out of hand and somebody needs stop him soon.

- he strongly believes that art is an umbrella term that relates to expressing of oneself ( not just through photography and painting ) and that everyone has the freedom to express themselves however they please. because of his beliefs, he chooses to break gender roles like bread and wears whatever the fuck he wants because yolo.

-  his appearance pretty much represents his hippie dippy lifestyle with him wearing all sorts of cute hipster shit. he’s clothes are v flow-y but don’t let that fool you. he doesn’t miss the opportunity to represent his upper-middle class within his style, so he does dress to impress, let me tell you ( he’s a fashion ho too ). his hair color changes sometimes too depending on his mood but it’s generally never too eccentric.

- when he turned seventeen, luca decided he wanted to go to college after high school. so he applied to an arts school in new york and graduated at twenty-one with two degrees in photography and painting.

- for about a year after graduating, he took some time to create his own freelance business while also looking for jobs in the commercial and industrial world of photography. about a three months ago, a fashion agency, settled in california, had contacted him about loving the work he had done in his freelance business and offered him a job as their full-time photographer. of course he accepted the job and moved out to venice, california. he’s been there for a whole month and hasn’t looked back since.

- upon hearing the news of isabella souza’s murder and also being a suspect in the case, luca’s kind of been on edge since. granted, he never knew isabella all that well, considering he met her through a mutual friend of theirs about as long as he’s lived in venice and became rather decent friends because of it. but to know someone killed her, freaks him out. he never met someone who has been a victim of a homicide case before and frankly, he doesn’t know how to act since the news broke.

[lesbian-ed]

🌸Hi, a few years ago when I was 16 (19 now)I was forced out to my friends by this homophobic girl, and I came out as bi (still in the closet to my family), I'm no longer friends with any of them, but I can't figure out what label I should have, I really want to just know who I am. I said to them I was bi, but I've never felt right with that label. I read about comp het and it makes so much sense to me, but I still don't know. 1/5

🌸I feel, like, attracted to male celebs, but only when they’re in films or tv, and watching interviews of them ruins it?, and whenever I’m around guys I get these thoughts I can’t control about kissing them and sleeping with them and I feel rlly self conscious, I said this to a friend who said it’s a crush, but I get it with people I don’t like at all 2/?

🌸 And sometimes I have a phase where I feel like I could date a guy and marry him and have kids and be happy but it feels like I’m imagining a perfect version of me that actually im not like at all? And as well I can only imagine myself with a young guy, once I think about a 30 yr old or older I don’t want it anymore, but the perfect fantasy seems so appealing idk 3/?

🌸I feel different about girls but I don’t know I’m catholic and I feel like it’s always been other people are gay and that’s ok but not me? And I don’t know whether I feel no attraction to girls or I’m pushing it down bc when I see girls kiss on tv I literally have started crying and I saw a lesbian couple in public once and I got butterflies and also Ive found myself changing pronouns in songs in my head without realising but I’ve never had close to a crush on anyone especially not a girl 4/5

🌸Ive never even met a gay girl except for one pan girl at school but she was really weird and rude so I don’t know what it’s supposed to be like to like someone? writing this all down it makes it sound like I’m definitely a lesbian but that scares me so much bc ill never have a normal life and I can’t shake this feeling that actually I do want to be with a guy but I’m trying to be interesting or I’m faking this or something. Pls tell me your thoughts on this 5/5

Oh, anon. This literally all feels as if my younger self came into my ask box just now to ask for advice. 

I understand your pain, I really do, I went through so many of the same thought processes you’re describing now. It’s good that you’re aware of compulsory heterosexuality, since I believe that will make sorting your feelings easier. Still, I recommend you look through our tag (if you haven’t already) to read more thoughts on this. It’ll help. 

I obviously can’t tell you what your sexuality is for you, that’s your own journey to make, but this sounds so much like my own experience that I’m pretty sure what the answer is already.

Anon, let me tell you a story, I went to a catholic school and while my parents are pretty liberal and not that religious (in fact, my dad’s an atheist) I was also raised with the idea that ok, there were gay people out there, and I didn’t care what other people did with their lives! But honestly that was kind of weird and I couldn’t be like them, because they weren’t normal, like I should be. I was bullied a lot as a kid, because I was weird and ugly and way too shy and easy to pick on, so I grew up with this idea that whatever else happened, I had to stop being like that, I had to be beautiful and normal and acceptable. And that of course included a perfect fantasy of marrying the man of my dreams after he fell in love with men when I suddenly grew up to be the most beautiful woman there was, and having kids, and holding down a successful job that I was happy doing and having lots of money and well, just having the most perfect life. How could I not want that? Ever since I was old enough to walk, society fed me the idea that this was my ideal endgame, how could we ALL not dream about that at some point? 

I used to be obsessed with those stories where the “ugly” girl suddenly turns beautiful and the Nice Perfect Popular Boy finally notices her and they get together, those stories were my dream life. As a kid and young teen I’d fantasize about them constantly, I’d make up characters that would always end up fulfilling those same tropes. It was the way to prove to all those who ever called me ugly or belittled me because I was nerdy that “see? I got the happy ending” so when I was twelve, and suddenly all the girls were having crushes on boys I felt nothing for, while I started noticing seemingly out of the blue just how incredibly beautiful so many girls my age and older were, I got veeery scared. I couldn’t like girls like that, I wasn’t like that, I was already weird and had no friends, so how could I ever hope to find a girl who liked girls who’d like me? And if I did, everyone already hated me, so how would I bear it? The stares and the insults and the danger we’d face if people saw us together on the street? So I pushed that attraction down as far as I could, I convinced myself I was actually just too inmature to start thinking about crushes and all that stuff, and obviously when I was mature enough and the time came, I’d like boys, because that’s what Normal Girls did right? And I had to be normal.

In my school’s equivalent of US’ eighth grade, a new boy came to our class, he was pretty, and friendly, and most importantly, blonde! and he was the school sports star! It felt like every movie-like fantasy I ever had come to life. Every girl was in love with him, so one time I had a dream where we were dating. I woke up being absolutely ecstatic, that must have meant I had a crush right? I liked a boy? I was definitely straight?

I never actually began feeling nervous around this boy, or looking at him any more than usual until I had this dream and decided that meant I was in love. I told a friend eventually because I was excited about being in love and the fantasy I had created for myself about our perfect relationship (which did involve us kissing and having sex, and I never actually felt turned on about it but I did imagine it a lot because it meant we were In Love, so those fantasies happen even if you don’t actually like like the person in question, dw!), and isn’t that what you do when you like someone? Gossip about it with your friends? She told some of my bullies and the dude found out, so he started laughing at me in the middle of the class and calling me ugly and saying he was traumatized at the mere idea of me liking him. 

And I… felt nothing. I was angry of course, and sad, but it was just the same anger and sadness I felt when some random I didn’t like made fun of me, it wasn’t even like what I felt when former friends said nasty stuff about me. And I wanted to be heartbroken I wanted to wallow in the misery and the drama of it, but I just wasn’t, it was the same “well this shit sucks and I’m angry about it but it happens everyday so wyd?” There was no deeper feeling there, not even any special resentment, there was nothing. I never felt anything ever again when I looked at this boy.

Now, sometime later, the same boy starts dating a girl from our class, and it was around the same time that I was coming to terms with the fact that the latent attraction I had started to feel for women when I was younger had never actually gone away but rather had grown. Things were purely about sexual attraction for me at that point, not romantic feelings. I hadn’t actually been in love with a girl either by that point. Because even tho I was accepting my sexual attraction to women, I still had the idea in my mind that ideally I would end up with a boy, because when so much of my hopes for the future relied of me being beautiful and a man falling in love with me forever and ever so that I could have a normal future, letting go of that dream took a while. I called myself bisexual for a while, only to realize very little later that it didn’t actually fit me. When I did, it was hard, because I had to re-come out again to my mom and the two friends I had told, and that really scared me, because I felt like some fake, like what I felt was not actually real. I put it off, and my friends & mom were accepting but they also were like “you’re just confused about your sexuality!!/this is just a phase!!” so that fed into my insecurities. Even when I realized I was sexually into women only, I still hadn’t fallen in love with one, so that made things more confusing for me (I hadn’t fallen for any boy other than the one I mentioned earlier and one I met on a vacation that thought I liked for like a week because he had a pretty voice and was pretty androgynous lmao, but again, no heartbreak when he went away)

Eventually, (funnily enough through fandoms and f/f ships and fics that depicted them in loving relationships, And I cried when I read about girls kissing too, at first I thought it was because I was a Good Straight Ally, but I was just a lesbian lmao) I realized that I could also be happy in a relationship with a woman, that it was not only a possible future for me, but one that I wanted, one that felt right, one in which I wouldn’t be the beautiful, perfect, feminine, smart, succesful career woman I had dreamed of as a kid, but in which I’d be me, with all my quirks and faults, with another woman with her own quirks and faults who’d love me for who I am, because that was possible! It was possible to be happy like that!. When I realized this, that me liking girls romantically and sexually, and exclusively girls was okay, it felt like a veil was lifted from my eyes. Suddenly, all the feelings and attraction I had thought I had felt for boys paled in comparison to the intensity of what I felt for women, I learned what actual sexual desire was like, I yearned for a future with a real me in it with a real woman by my side, instead of the fake ideal I’d wanted to be when I was younger. It was around that time I fell in love for the first time.

Remember how I mentioned the boy I used to “like” got a girlfriend? Well, guess who I fell for? Me and her were assigned seats together one year in high school, and I got to know her through the first term, every time liking her more and more, until one day, she just walks into class, and I think she did something different with her hair? Whatever it was, seeing her felt like someone punching the breath out of me, it felt like watching literal perfection embodied. And I was gone, I was just so so sooo gone. I felt sparks when we sat next to each other, I couldn’t stop smiling like a fool whenever I looked at her, she’d say something nice to me and it felt like my soul was flying out of my body. And of course it was idealized, it was a crush on a girl I didn’t know that well, but the feelings I had, I had for her, for her actual personality, her actual sweetness, her actual kindness, even her actual rashness sometimes, not the fantasy I had made up of her that I projected onto her like I did when I “liked” her boyfriend. I liked her as a person. Plus the intensity of both crushes was just so fucking different. When I liked her, I cried when we were apart and at the thought of her with her dumbass idiot boyfriend, I listened to a love song and could relate to it for the first time. I understood finally why people would write poetry and songs and do all sorts of crazy things for this feeling. 

Tldr: I also fantasized about the ideal boy and I was never able to allow myself to feel anything for a girl because of how much I had repressed my sexuality due to fear of backlash until I was able to recognize that yes, liking women was OK and then all my repressed feelings came pouring out like a tsunami. 

If that sounds like something you can kind of relate to, then that’s your answer anon. However, it might not be, or maybe you don’t know if it is yet. That’s alright! Sexuality can be complicated and it can take a long time to figure it out. You’re not on a deadline here, you don’t have to stress about it.

As for the normal part, yeah being a lesbian in this society sucks a lot. And I still get terrified of the idea that I will not be “normal” and that I can never be happy. Even if I know deep in my heart that I can never be happy with a man, sometimes I wonder if it’d be worth it to spare me the pain. The answer? Hell no, I’ve got one life, one, what’s the point of wasting it on loveless unfulfilled relationships when I could try to go for someone I’ll actually be happy with? There’ll be pain, of course there will be, I live in a small town and I’ve only just started meeting other lesbians & bi girls offline this year because I’ve gone to university, and I’ve only ever actually started talking to and becoming actual friends with the ones I knew online this year too because I was so terrified before! All of them tell me about their hurt, and how lesbophobia affects them a lot, and yet I see them talking about how much they love their girlfriends/wives (I don’t have that because I’m an awkward potato but I’m trying) and also other lesbians, and it gives me hope, because I can be just like them, finding genuine happiness amidst the pain.

I hope this answer helps you. 

Mod M :D 

[countdownto65]

Empathy for Self

What is the nemesis of shame? Empathy.

What is the root of most of your shame? Attention seeking, codependentcy and sexual misconduct.

Empathy. You were the oldest in the family fighting for parental attention against two babies.

You hit puberty early. This was a 2 fold problem. You started getting attention furthering the tight shirts but in turn Everyone in 4th grade started calling you a ho. You had never even kissed a boy. You were not a ho and kids are fucking mean.

But you know who else’s attention you got by having boobs, dressing in body suits and seeking attention at 11 years old? A fucking pedophile. While your behavior made you an easy target, NO ONE DESERVES TO BE SEXUALLY EXPLOITED AT 12, 13, 14, OR 15 YEARS OLD. Did you fuckin get that? No matter what your actions it was not your fault they targeted you. Even if you agreed to it at 13, 14, 15 you can leave that self blame right here bc that was their bad NOT YOURS. This is where you learned sex = attention, power, control. They would buy you stuff, get you high and drunk, make you feel like the best person they know all (not explicitly stated) for sexual behavior. I learned a skewed view on relationships and appropriate sexual behavior in adult married behavior. I learned to emotionally detach from sex. I learned to over ride the “this shit ain’t right” feeling you get in your chest when you are uncomfortable in a situation. All of these things are what set your boundaries and your very left field view of what kind of attention makes you feel worthwild. This was not your fault and sometimes life has shitty things happen that effect our outlook forever.

So it sure was easy to sleep with boyfriends, I mean you “loved” them, they were always older, sex was something that didn’t come from everybody so with my sexual skills I learned from the pedophiles I was the best gf a 16 year old could have. And bc I could so easily separate sex from emotion (as a conditioned response to molestation) and it was a way to get boys I liked to notice me, I gave it up easily. Not necessarily sex, but sexual acts. It was one way I felt power and control. Boys treated me special on the surface bc I was pretty with tight clothes…but I failed to realize the power was momentary at the cost of respect. Both self respect and respect of everyone else. This was when my first experience with the fuck and run type of dude came in. The first time I cared. After that I didn’t at least I told myself I didn't but This was when I began codependency. They didn’t always fuck and run. I was good at getting boys to stick around for a while. I was a serial dater. I had to have a significant other to feel worth so I had too many boyfriends. Always one on hand one on the backburner. This was you reaching out for real connection, something you felt had been missing both with your parents, your abusers and your random sexual encounters. When I had a bf I was faithful. I know that sounds fucked up bc I just said I had a backburner but I was never sleeping with this other guy. I just friend zoned him knowing he liked me so I could establish my safety net. So one day at 17 Ieft home, went to a house party, hooked up with the guy who’s house it was (Matt) and that was the start of my first adult relationship. I loved him from the bottom of my toes but he often cheated on me and I never left him for it. It was at this time that I severed my relationship with my abusers. I was old enough to at least have an inkling something wasn’t right, plus now I considered it cheating and I didn’t cheat on him. He started selling drugs. We both got into cocaine. It was easy bc I dated the dopeman.

Then he went to prison. I continued the relationship with him but continued to date/sleep with men while he was away. This was when I caught an std and began stripping on weekends. This is still caused by poor boundaries and a skewed idea of sex and power… Set in motion by sexual abuse. By now I had slowed way down on cocaine but had a huge weed and alcohol habit. I worked at a catholic preschool during the week but stripped to pay for my substances on Sat nights. This set off a little bit of the uncomfortable double life feeling but I pushed it down. I also hustled people for substances. Although I never slept with anyone for money or drugs. But I def made them think I might so they would get me high. Never felt bad either bc if your a dude willing to be got you deserved to get hustled…that was my mindset. I also saw stripping as a hustle. Hustle to me means fuck with a lame walk with a limp. I mean if your gonna be thirsty I’ll take your money. This is probably when I acquired my mindset that most dudes were creeps and out to get me. I realize now that by appearing easy I was literally attracting creeps but at the time I enjoyed the attention and the feeling of superiority and has a huge sample of men to confirm my bias.

Every now and then though I got tricked out of my hard exterior and caught feelings. This is my deep emotional need for connection, to feel worth while. This is where I met my daughters father. He was a giant red flag but problem with bad boundaries and emotional regulation is if I liked you I would ignore red flags and become overly obsessed with you. This has continued to be a problem throughout adulthood.

Anyways I dated Tony until He went to prison, then Matt got out of prison until we broke up, then Tony got out of prison and we has Olivia. Then Tony went back to prison and I met Jason, I left Jason when Tony got out of prison but when Tony and I broke up I went back to Jason and we had Leah. Are you seeing the boomerang effect of codependentcy and back burner relationships. One stable relationship was not enough.

I wanted Jason to be different. To be a family but unfortunately Jason turned out to be very abusive mentally, physically and emotionally. He was an alcoholic and a mean one. But for some reason I loved him and let him stomp on me over and over. He took my confidence. He took my pride. He took my soul. I tried to break up with him 30 times he would say no and just wouldn’t leave. I was faithful to him until I moved out into subsidised housing. But even then I didn’t have multiple men just one man that to this day I love. This guy put up with being #2 for 2 years on and off. Maybe he knew I loved him, maybe he knew that I was stuck with Jason, maybe he knew I needed to feel wanted and worthy. During this I felt guilty and shameful. I eventually bought a house and moved Jason in. That is when this other guy got a new gf and left me alone. It was like mourning a breakup that I couldn’t tell anyone. Eventually I legally evicted Jason and this left me with a self worth and connection black hole.

I acted out for a minute on my usual single m.o.. Then an old friend from middle school came in. He was different then others in that he was genuinely nice and cared for my well being. Unfortunately he also came with a huge dose of depression leading to at the time an inability to keep a job or help with housework. But I stayed with him on and off for the next few years bc I loved him for his emotional support and that he made me feel worthy. Plus it was safe. As a woman in her 30s, I am at the point that if I’m in a relationship I don’t cheat or scope out new guys or have a backburner. It kept me emotionally reeled in. But bc of my trust issues, bc of my lack of feeling worthy, bc of my resentment for him watching me struggle, and bc of my need for excitement or passion (see drama) I couldn’t be with him forever. Even after he got better and held a job and helped my brain short circuits and told me that our lack of connection was insurmountable. I broke his heart and he did nothing wrong. I am just still searching for that lasting “in love” connection that I am not sure exists. I harbor huge guilt here. Both for his feelings and for what could be wrong with me that I left what I said I wanted. That maybe my brain will never let me really love. My only empathy here is that I am working on my shit and all I can do is that.

Every time in my adult life when I have been unhappy in a relationship I’ve left instead of fixing. I have searched out attention through suggestive facebook posts or selfies or sexting. I have been emotionally raw towards men. I had a shitty attitude toward relationships. Anytime that I was single or had freedom I either had a fuck buddy that I didn’t feel anything for or sometimes I would make a strong connection and go all in. I would rush it sexually (again not necessarily full sex but messing around for sure) and more times then not I get played. Within 2 weeks after they no longer answer my texts or calls. This is the shit adult shame is built from. How can you be so blind and stupid? Why can’t you be stable and happy? But here is where I need an empathy piece. Your sexuality was already not healthy then Jason stripped you of any self worth. He often told you no one could ever love me bc I was such a low down terrible person, a piece of shit mother, a whore. Six years of that and you begin to believe it. So if a man comes along and sells you a dream of being loveable its hard not to want with all your heart to believe them. And sexuality is my only tool I know for reeling them in. But when things get too serious I start getting scared of being broken or having to work on things that historically haven’t worked or old scars become obsessions.

I am at a point in my life now that I want to change but Tbh I don’t know how. I want to regain respect for myself and I would like to change peoples opinion of me or better yet not care. This has sent me into a major mental health crisis. I want to know how to reel it in and gain respect while still being true to myself. I still yearn for spark, sex and connection but I want to do it healthily. I want to take the emotional polarization and shame out of sex. Instead of not caring at all or being a crazy obsessive smothering weirdo and throwing myself at someone then feeling like an idiot for falling so hard. So maybe dates in public, counting actions over words and putting time in between the spark and the sex.

I am still struggling with what to do about social media. I mean I need to chill on the provocative selfies, attention seeking posts, and entertaining anyone that messages me… but I still like to be noticed. I want to post selfies and I think dirty memes are funny. Anyway this is long. I am still figuring shit out. And I can’t just look at empathy without taking inventory of what I could have done differently. But this post is empathy and it did help take off a small piece of that shame.

(*when I say act out sexually I don't mean I've had hundreds of partners but rather I have been quick to sexually experiment but I have also developed a "stop point". Don't get it too twisted.)