#// this took a lot longer than I expected - I either have long covid or my arthritis levelled up over this winter...

[gorbalsvampire]

More Humane Than Human - Humanity as degeneration vs. Humanity as detachment

I wanted to repost the Requiem readthrough review before I got into this, because it started as one of those "Requiem vs. Masquerade which is better" conversations. In rules terms I think V5 has iterated successfully on Requiem - there's probably about the same density of actual rules there but V5 makes a better fist of hiving some of them off into advanced/optional/discretionary territory - but Requiem innovates hard in terms of ideas about how vampires and vampirism work, introducing things like the Predator's Taint and Lashing Out and, crucially, Touchstones.

Touchstones give the lie to the "V5 does rules better" claim. I have never liked how V5 does them. The notion of tying an individual vampire to a person, place or artefact is nothing new. Those of us who are Old, or retro-curious, may recall Vampire: the Masquerade - Redemption, in which Brujah himbo protagonist Christof is told he needs an "anchor" for his Humanity and selects Anezka, the nun who nursed him back to health and who he's been having less than holy thoughts about ever since he woke up. Christof is told, by his mentor Wilhelm, that choosing a person as his "anchor" is a dangerous call - but his mind is made up and, not to spoil a twenty-five-year-old game, it turns out to be for the best for both of them... as long as he's kept his Humanity up, anyway.

So, Touchstones in the context of Masquerade are nothing new to me - in fact I was quite surprised when the full TTRPG didn't have rules for them. But! Touchstones in V5 are a bit different. Instead of one, there are many: instead of humanity in general, each of the vampire's Convictions has a named person attached to it.

The problem - and this isn't just me, it's something that's come up in all the V5 games I've played or hosted - is that viable characters have two or three Convictions. Coming up with two or three Touchstones at character generation, before you have a feel for who this person is and how you're going to play them and what their routine looks like, has not worked for anyone I've played the game with. One might work - most of us can ideate a relationship with one other person before we start playing - but three seems to stretch the limited sense of a starting character's identity too thin.

Rules As Written, of course, a Touchstone doesn't have to be someone significant to the story. They can just be someone your character saw every day, or sees every night, or notices every time they pass by. But... that's bullshit. That is not a "hang a key element of your personal ethic and capacity for self care on this person" relationship. I can see the story beat of "this person isn't there any more and you're morally shook by it" working once, maybe, but still, permanently altering your character's relationship with the Beast is kind of an integral function of the game. It feels like that hat should be hung on a sturdier hook - a full-on fleshed-out SPC. Like in Requiem, where you get one Touchstone.

Also, Humanity works differently, at its most fundamental level, and this exposes a key difference between the two games - one where I think Requiem is strides ahead. @awakenedsalamander touched on this talking about the differences in the concept of the Masquerade between the two games, but I want to go deeper on it.

In Masquerade, Humanity is about degeneration - it's the Downward Spiral, an almost inevitable drift from Man to Beast with exceptions being so rare they're practically mythical. It's about becoming worse, with all the moral judgment that implies, about committing acts that appear on a Hierarchy of Sins.

(At least, it is in V20. V5 abolishing that in favour of chronicle specific Tenets and character specific Convictions is really smart. I didn't grasp how it was meant to work from the corebook - it took the Player's Guide to spell it out to me - but now that I grok it, I love the tension between the Tenets that forbid and govern a character's actions and the Convictions that excuse and forgive those actions.)

In Requiem, Humanity is detachment. It's about the state of being a vampire slowly and inexorably reminding you over and over that you're not human any more, drifting further and further away from what you were and into the all-night society of predators. It's quantified in terms of Breaking Points - roughly grouped by significance and severity, these experiences hammer home that you're dead, you're dead, you're dead and out of this world. It's less "I did a bad thing" and more "I experienced something that no human ever should" like walking off a stab wound or being reminded you're a hundred years old and still act like you're twenty. When you hit a Breaking Point, you roll a number of dice - how many is a function of how serious and hard to avoid confronting the Breaking Point is - to avoid losing Humanity.

Now. In the past I've met quite a few players who don't really want to engage with the morality play aspects of Masquerade. Whether that's "we want to speedrun to Humanity 4 so we can play the game 'properly' without having to pretend we regret doing all the things RPG protagonists do" or "we think it's kinda stupid the way low Humanity says you may no longer create art or have sex without 'faking it' and let's interrogate what the developers think 'sex' is, shall we?" doesn't really matter. Maybe you want to play on the theme of post-humanity rather than be wrist-slapped for trying to do main character stuff. I don't blame you.

I think it should be possible to wholesale lift the Requiem system of detachment, rolled for at Breaking Points and mitigated by a singular Touchstone who can be a more developed character, or a place, or an object, and slot that into V5 replacing Tenets, Convictions and Stains.

That gives you a version of Humanity that's more permissive and less frontloaded, allows you to go deep on one hook instead of ideating sets of pairs before you even know who your character is. It also divorces functions of sexuality and creativity from being a good person - in the Requiem model, vampires fuck, and make art, and low Humanity expresses more in how they do it than whether or not they can.

(Although - there'd need to be some finesse around Oblivion, since I think the Discipline's theme of entropy inducing personal decay still works in the detachment model - maybe keep Stains as an additional lever, a function of Messy Criticals and dangerous Disciplines, and have Breaking Points inflict Stains instead of automatically triggering rolls...)

Important note on this idea: this does NOT exempt you from having a conversation about what's off limits in Session 0. It's easy to miss this in the V5 core book, but Chronicle Tenets aren't a safety tool. Chronicle Tenets are the moral rules that are going to come up A LOT in play, they define what your coterie collectively accepts as Doing A Bad Thing, to be excused for personal reasons (i.e. Convictions). An actual out of character trigger, an aspect of the World of Darkness with which a real live person who exists does not wish to engage, is a line or a veil - something we either don't include, or don't narrate explicitly. It's not something we build into one of the game's mechanical loops and ensure will come up. That would be... the absolute opposite of safe.

Whadda we think?

[copperbadge]

How did you find the doctor(s) who assessed you for ADHD? Im looking into the process of getting diagnosed because (although ive suspected I might have adhd for years now) I've been struggling a lot more lately and i want to try medication to see if it helps at all. Im trying to search for psychiatrists through my health insurance portal but the the results im getting are all for child/adolescent psychiatry specialists, and I dont think that'll be much help for an adult adhd assessment? Did you have an established therapist to refer you for your assessment or were you able to find a psychiatrist independently?

I actually just kind of had to freeform it, but that does mean I have some tips to share!

I will say, I have never once used a health insurance portal to find someone to treat me for anything. Often their search engine is fucked up and the information is sometimes out of date. I almost always either ask someone who I know has had similar issues if they have a recommendation, ask my treating physician if I have one, or just google until I find someone reputable-looking; any qualified medical center or professional will list what insurance they take anyway, and you can always ask when you make the appointment.

So here's the process for how to do that!

When I was first considering it, I asked a friend who'd had an evaluation that came back not-ADHD, which I liked because it meant we knew it wasn't like, a weird Adderall pill mill or something. I really wanted to have a professional and thorough evaluation because I knew myself and knew I was capable of gaming a questionnaire. The place she had her evaluation was unfortunately having some staffing issues; part of the reason it took me so long is that I played phone tag with them for ages -- I'd call, and regardless of what time of day I called, their scheduler would be "out", so I'd leave a message and never get a call back. Ultimately I said "I really need to talk to a human, because your scheduler has not returned any of my numerous calls" and they said they could transfer me to another office outside of Chicago (in the burbs). That was not going to be accessible to me, so I told them thanks but I'll go somewhere else. Then COVID hit and I was not going to go anywhere near a medical center unless I had to for about two years.

So, when I was making my second serious run at getting evaluated, I did what might be expected of me by longtime readers of this blog: I made a spreadsheet.

I want to caveat this up top with REALLY IMPORTANT CONTEXT: I did not do all of this in a single day. The process from starting research to making an evaluation appointment took about a month, and probably would have taken longer if I wasn't getting somewhat desperate. Do not push yourself to do this as a single act. Research alone is a multi-day process; some days I looked at the open tabs and only entered one tab's worth of information. It took me quite a bit of time to write the form email I sent inquiring about an assessment. It took me time to call the clinic back when they asked me to call to book the appointment. This is a series of steps, not a single leap.

So!

I was looking for a clinic rather than an individual, in part because I'd heard a couple of horror stories about people who went to a psychiatrist and just got argued with for an hour instead of actually getting evaluated. So I googled, and here are some key terms for you, chicago adult adhd assessment. Chicago obviously for the region, but "adult adhd" (putting it in quotes will help) is the important term that will help you filter out a lot of child psych stuff. A lot of what I looked at did included family or child assessment/therapy but were clear that they also evaluated adults.

Then I went through every legit-looking search result and noted down, in my spreadsheet, the name of the clinic/company, the contact phone and email, the URL, the physical location (I needed to be able to get to it fairly easily) and whether they took my insurance. Even if they didn't take my insurance (all but one did) I still put them into the spreadsheet so that if I found them again I could check the sheet and know I didn't need to investigate further. I also tended to bump more legitimate and friendly-looking places to the top of the sheet. And if I were going to do it again I would also look for one specific thing, which is an assessment guide of some kind.

The assessment guide may be something they only give you after you speak with them, so it's not a no-go if they don't have one on their website, but it basically tells you what generally will go on during the assessment, how long it will take, and what you should bring. A full assessment like I had is estimated to take 4-6 hours and they recommended I wear layers so I wouldn't be overly cold/warm in their office, and to bring a snack. That's the kind of information you want, duration of the assessment and what they recommend for you, to ensure that you're working with people who are thorough and care about your comfort.

So, I have this spreadsheet now of places to reach out to, which I know take my insurance and do adult assessment. In the spreadsheet I also had columns for what date I contacted them and whether they'd responded. I started reaching out via email, one per day, with the form email I'd written.

The form email basically said "I'm 42 with no previous diagnosis but I have a family history of autism and dyslexia. I've been told I should get assessed for ADHD, so I'm looking for a clinic that will do the assessment and takes (my insurance). I prefer to be contacted by email but if need be, my phone number is (phone number). Please let me know if you have any open appointments and what information you will need from me to book an evaluation with you." (You can always ask for more information about the actual evaluation process once they respond.)

If I didn't get a response within 24 hours, I moved on to the next, but I only greyed out the text in that line of the spreadsheet; I didn't disqualify/remove the nonresponsive ones because again, I wanted to make sure I kept that information in case they eventually did respond. I did this with about ten clinics, because I figured I must be able to find at least one in ten who could do the eval, and I could go back and research more if necessary.

I think the third or fourth one I reached out to was the first to respond, and I ended up going with them; I had a very positive experience in the assessment itself but it was a real pain in the ass getting the documentation from them -- they took about a month to go through the evaluation data (this is not abnormal but is rather longer than usual according to my psychiatrist) and they gave me an in-person-by-zoom report once it was ready. That said, it took another four months and the threat of reporting them to the state to get them to send me the text of the eval (in part because the evaluator left the clinic unexpectedly with my formal report not yet written). But that's something that's truly impossible to know until you're working with them, and highly unusual, so don't let concerns about that deter you. If you end up in that situation come hit me up and I'll tell you how I dealt with that.

My eval recommended an executive function coach, but if I haven't been able to func it by now I never will, so I thanked them for the recommendation and went looking for a psychiatrist unaffiliated with the clinic to prescribe me meds. There, the key words you're going to be looking for are again "adult adhd" but also "adult disability" and if you want medication that's less likely to be a huge fucking hassle, "medication management". My psychiatrist and I meet every two months to reup my prescription, but he doesn't require me to take a regular drug test or meet him in person in order to get a new scrip, as some people have encountered. We meet in person once or twice a year (I can't remember, it's due to a legal requirement in Illinois) but otherwise it's over zoom.

So yeah -- it's a process, but there are ways to streamline and manage it, and a few tripwires in place to make sure you don't end up screwed by the system. Definitely feel free to ask if you have questions, either here or if you want a more indepth conversation you can email me at copperbadge@gmail.com. GOOD LUCK!

[longcovidshortstories]

Medical Dis-Appointment

6 months.

I had waited 6 months to get into that neurologists office. And it took about 15 minutes for him to show me out.

I have hand tremors now. Tremors that I didn't used to have. I started noticing them in physical therapy last year. They were my sign that I was at my physical limit and needed to stop immediately or I was going to be in bed for days. Sure, they freaked me out but it also made sense for my hands to start shaking when I was at the limit of my energy.

But then I noticed they also shook when I was pouring a drink. They shook when I was holding my phone. They shook when I was writing. Not a lot. It didn't really change my handwriting. I didn't spill my drink, I just had to be more careful. I was a little more self-conscious showing someone something on my phone while I was holding it. But it's still disturbing to have hand tremors when I didn't. Coupled with balance issues when I didn't, bad enough to result in a fall down some stairs. Then there's the brain fog and memory issues.

My GP saw me, checked my hands, and referred me to a neurologist. In the 6 months leading up to my appointment I saw other doctors for other things. When I saw an orthopedist, she asked if I was going to see a neurologist. I saw a long covid doctor for a checkup who also asked if I had an appointment with a neurologist. I couldn't help but wonder what they were seeing in me.

But then came the neurologist. A few tests. Probably fewer than the other doctors. A quick walk down the hall. A few reflex checks. Enough to dismiss me. "If your tremors are so mild that I can't even see you shaking then there's not really much to do. But if you feel like you can't deal with them these are the options:" He then listed medications in increasing order of side effect severity. Following that, were the devices that could be purchased for $100's to $1000's of dollars. Devices that he acknowledged in the same breath have questionable results, even among his own patients. From there he went to brain surgeries. An implant with wires. Burning away a piece of brain.

I had flashbacks to my Ear, Nose, and Throat appointment from 2021, the very first doctor referral I ever had about a long covid symptom. He threw out the option of cutting my olfactory nerve so I could smell nothing instead of smelling trash.

I would love to go to a doctor and get a solution, but I am also no longer under the illusion that that will happen. Still, some doctors can't help but flex. They rattle off a list of improbable or impossible options. The behavior can only be described as mocking. I'm not going to have brain surgery for mild tremors. I didn't even come here expecting a quick solution. I came here to know if this means something. My disease is known only through its symptoms. I have no choice right now but to go and have each symptom evaluated with the hope that a greater whole will one day come to light.

I will not feel small in front of this man because he seems to feel that I am not neurologically sick enough to take up space in his office.

I've come a long way though. I didn't go to my car in the parking lot and cry like I did after the ENT. Maybe I've gotten tougher. Maybe my expectations of doctors have lowered. It still hurts to have wasted 6 months and a 2 hours drive to be dismissed but it's done now. A doctor will either be curious about a person with a new disease or they won't and that decision happens long before I walk into their office.

[worst-family-heirloom]

Foreign flavors

When I was in high school, I wrote a poem about my cultural heritage for a class I was in.

They saved me a plate of kasha and eggs.

This was the year I learned Americans call kasha "buckwheat".

I don't eat eggs anymore, not regularly, anyway.

To what extent is my family's food more foreign than any other settler cuisine in this country?

It's not foreign to me. It's what I grew up with. Poppy seed cake for Christmas. Hazelnut chocolate cake with plum jam. Torcik. Pierogi. Mushroom soup for Christmas, again. Most of it, really, for Christmas, and sometimes Easter.

I don't like Christmas, but I do like mushroom pierogi.

It is strange to realize I am never going to eat my grandmother's pierogi ever again. She's not dead, yet, but the relationship that once was between us is, and she's old and lives far away now. Good. I don't miss her.

There was one Polish restaurant in Norwich, and then it closed. Yummy Yummy. At least this last year I was there, I found a Polish catering company and fried up some cheese pierogi with oregano. It was great. (Those were the only vegetarian kind they had.)

The Christmas I was homeless-- that doesn't narrow it done enough. The one I was living in temporary accommodation in The Village-- I ordered 40 spring rolls from a Chinese place, since I couldn't get any Polish food Christmas proper.

Taking part in a Jewish-American tradition older than the state of Israel, a tradition I never took part in except the year I did with Arin's family, the year before we broke up, though neither of us knew it would be. Though I suppose that's to be expected. We were too young to be in the kind of soul-crushing downward spiral reserved for decades long relationships.

It was the best Christmas of my high school years, I think. Eating Chinese food with my then partner's mother and sister, talking about what to get Arin for Hanukkah. How I was the person who knew best what to get them. (How Arin had stayed home sick.)

(How I came home-- home, their place felt like home, even though I hadn't moved in yet and we had yet to discuss it as COVID grew into even more of an imminent threat in a few months' time-- and we looked for Hanukkah Spirk to read in bed together.)

(How I still haven't watched the reunification video. How I wonder if they've watched it without me. How I wonder...)

(How I would never have done what they did to me to them, but they did it to me.)

Anyway. I've only eaten Chinese food on Christmas twice in my life, the first because I was invited out by my Jewish then-partner's family, the second because the Polish place was closed on Christmas and I hadn't sorted out Polish food in advance.

I mostly jokingly said to Tom that Christmas that I was connecting with my Jewish heritage by listening to Falsettos. They, in what I can only assume was complete earnestness, said "That's nice."

I said I was mostly being silly, and that wasn't much of anything, and they said it could still be nice.

They would have never done it to me, but I did it to them.

Some of the things they did to me, I never would have done to them either.

Sometimes, no contact is because I don't like who I am around a person.

How I act.

They never did take me to Wales. Or the pepper (or was it chilli? Spice?) festival. Or their village fete.

It's OK. I let people not choose me. Look at me, maintaining (badly!) some basic boundaries.

I'm neurotic/he's neurotic/they're neurotic/we're neurotic!

Maybe I can pay my friend Baisil to make me pierogi for Christmas. Let's see if I remember to ask them in time. Maybe I can pay them extra to crimp the dough. I know they take a lot of time.

I wanted to do it right as a kid. I just take longer with what I now know to call "fine motor" things, things I just called "fiddly" as a child. So my grandma gave up teaching me-- like some twisted inverse of weaponized incompetence. Wanting so badly to paint the fence white and not being able to.

I wonder if my hands shake and twitch and jerk too much now for me to do it. Probably not, but it would be harder.

Whose fault is that?

In another life maybe I had a normal relationship with food, or a healthier one anyway, but then you wouldn't be getting this weird and tremendous amount of cannibalism and vore from me, so. You're welcome.

I'd make a "God gave me anorexia" joke here, but I can't even jokingly say it wasn't my mother, and grandmother.

When is a poem finished? And do I get to qualify my own freeform rambling thoughts as a poem?

The funniest part is that despite my own rules, rules I cannot make too strictly rules without shooting myself in the foot, in the long run, I wrote this instead of eating.

[princessazalea17]

Long Vent

Post/Reflection: College and Loneliness

I just saw this post on Reddit and wanted to give my reflection. I am a recent graduate from UCI, and I can deeply relate to this post. Although I didn’t go through hookups nor can I relate to the substance abuse part (I tried edible cannabis and vaping once, didn’t do much for me, plus I stay away due to health reasons), I can say that for the most part, although UCI is a very beautiful campus, and Irvine itself is one of the safest places to live, the courses kicked my ass my first year, I didn’t form a lot of long-term connections like I thought I would, and I felt very disconnected from the campus culture, and I feel like COVID also played a part in this.

I used to view college through the rose-colored glasses that freshman me used to wear— I was expecting my college experience to be like on a Netflix show, doing so many fun things with my big, happy college friend group. I have had my share of groups, but many of them did not last longer than a quarter, and a lot of my friendships felt very superficial, when I was seeking genuine connection. After your first year, it becomes very difficult to form new connections. My first year, it felt like I had a huge amount of people that I could talk to. By year four, I often found myself clinging to people, using work as a social outlet, and feeling constantly depressed, and I lost a lot of friends, or more-so acquaintances whom I thought I had a closer bond with than what was really there. As a result, I often tend to isolate myself due to fear of rejection, after making the mistake of inserting and forcing myself into spaces where I am not wanted.

I put in the effort to get involved in many different campus organizations, and ended up finding three that I felt like I was a part of, but as of today, most of the people I talk to are the people I knew from high school. My biggest problem with the campus culture is how everyone is friendly in the fall, then all of a sudden the environment shifts and becomes more closed off by the winter quarter. I talk to less than five people from my university that I met. After graduating, my phone has never been drier.

I have had my fair share of parties, but I felt miserable in most of them, especially going alone and not knowing anyone. A lot of people would bond by smoking weed and drinking together, and I felt very left out since I didn’t do either. The same can be said with club meetings. I had better experiences in the hobby-based clubs than I did the social clubs, especially the smaller ones, since they were more intimate and the board members made an effort to include everyone.

I did take summer classes twice- once in person, and once online. My final quarter was in the summer, and I can say that without a doubt that was my best quarter, because it felt like I had less pressure placed on me, and I spent the time working on bettering myself. The campus was emptier too, which meant not feeling as left out. Plus, I got to live in a great apartment with great utilities and air conditioning.

Course-wise, I got poor grades my first and second year due to the STEM weed out classes. I got a lot of Cs, and I failed a few classes and had to repeat them, despite me taking these same courses in high school (hello, Advanced Placement). The lab course, which has one of the most hated teachers on campus teaching it, was one of the worst courses I have ever taken on campus, despite it being online when I took it. By my third year, I ended up changing majors because I couldn’t afford to keep having to pay for summer session tuition or take a fifth year for undergrad. A lot of professors made exams challenging on purpose to weed out the students who only studied by memorizing (myself included), and a lot of the exam averages were C scores. Some classes had it worse, where exam averages were so low that students had to rely on very generous grading curves to pass the class.

Of course, there were also things about campus that I appreciated, other than the beauty, security, and convenience of living in a college town. I miss my job and my coworkers. I miss the communities that I felt I was a part of. I miss the free concerts and guest speaker events.

[yourgenderisfake]

A Confession

Preface: I debated writing this for a long time. I debated posting it anywhere even more so. But I wanted to share my experience in case it was a helpful perspective for anyone else. Ultimately, that’s all this is – my perspective – but this is the internet, after all, so I’m expecting some people to willfully misinterpret this in bad faith. While I won’t be able to stop that, just acknowledge that this is a difficult conversation to have.

I haven’t used this Tumblr account regularly in over two years. To be honest, I almost forgot about it until I saw a screenshot of one of my older posts circulating on radfem twitter, which compelled me to finally sit down and write this.

It took a lot of soul searching and reflection to come to this conclusion, but after five years, I no longer identify as a radfem or align with radical feminism.

The last two years have irreparably changed people in countless ways. Whether it’s depression from the pandemic and mass death, (fear of) getting and spreading a novel infectious disease, losses of loved ones and friends, the subsequent economic fallout of lockdowns, and the grinding tolls of capitalism amid all these horrors – there’s not a single person on the planet who hasn’t been affected by covid.

It was the economic fallout and the tolls of capitalism that hit me particularly hard. I got laid off in March 2020 and didn’t find another job until this past May. I was unemployed for a while, but I couldn’t afford to live on unemployment payments alone, even while getting that bonus $300-$600 from the feds. I blew through nearly all my savings on rent, bills, and other living expenses.

As if my significant financial loss wasn’t bad enough, I began to feel extremely depressed and suicidal as a result of losing my job. I woke up each day feeling stuck, applying to any jobs I was remotely qualified for, even those I was underqualified for. I went through multiple rounds of interviews for a few different jobs and they either ghosted me or rejected me. It was hard not to take it personally. I distanced myself from college friends and former colleagues because I felt like such a disappointment for not pursuing a job in my field. But at the end of the day, I was still privileged enough to have money saved up.

More than anything, what I needed was a distraction. I needed to get out of my head. I live in a neighborhood that has a very high aging population, and at the start of the pandemic, I signed up to get involved in mutual aid efforts. Every week, I made grocery runs for a few of my neighbors and delivered them food, supplies, and other things.

It was certainly depressing work. A lot of people in my building died, and I grieved for them, although I didn’t really know many of them. Many lived alone in rent-controlled apartments and it pained me to think of them being alone during such a horrible time. But at the end of the day, knowing that I wasn’t wasting my time feeling sorry for myself, knowing that someone who was at high risk of getting sick with covid could still count on having their needs met, was enough for me. It was revitalizing. I got to meet some of the community organizers that I never knew were doing this incredible work. I felt grateful just to be a part of it because it was genuinely important work.

As I got involved in more community-focused efforts, one of the first things I noticed was that I worked alongside a decent amount of trans people. Initially, I reacted with caution. But after a few weeks, something clicked in me. I asked myself why I judged these people so harshly when (a) I barely even know them and (b) we’re mostly ideologically aligned and (c) the same goal unites us – to support the most vulnerable members of our community when others won’t bother.

After five years of only engaging with other lesbians and radfems, I had to recalibrate and decide whether radical feminism was still a force for good in my life. I thought for months. I wrote down all of my thoughts. At some point, I realized that radical feminism stopped being helpful and started being harmful. Some parts of it weren’t ever helpful for me, ever, at all.

In order to track the path I followed, I had to go back to the very beginning. I fell into radical feminism when I was 19. I was a sensitive, traumatized young woman (technically I identified as agender but who really cares). Freshman year, I was sexually assaulted at a party by a guy I vaguely knew from one class, who’d later start wearing nail polish and earrings and using they/them pronouns. I felt a confusing yet subtle rage as someone who I and others perceived as a “white cishet man” for the longest time suddenly claimed a queer identity similar to mine. That’s around the time I started trawling radfem blogs and finding myself covertly agreeing with everything. Eventually, I stopped lurking and made my own side blog.

It also didn’t help that as my thoughts got intrusively more terfy, many of my own friends started to ID as nonbinary or trans. Most of them were lesbians or bi women, but some were straight, as far as I knew. Not all of them pursued medical transition, but some did. By the end of college, I could count on one hand how many cis-IDed woman friends I had left.

Like many other women, I turned to radical feminism in an attempt to cope with trauma from male violence and grieve my female/lesbian friendships. Radfem spaces and rhetoric helped me understand what happened and why it all happened. It gave me the language to define my experiences and I'll be forever grateful for that. It was also important for me to come to terms with the fact that I’m always going to be classified as female; I learned to accept that and become comfortable moving through the world as a woman, no matter how I view myself.

However, as I got deeper into radical feminism, I built a filter bubble that constantly exposed me to accounts of male violence. It prolonged my own trauma response and made it harder to heal. Men are without a doubt dangerous, but I don't think it was healthy for me to feed into a fear that made it difficult to leave my apartment or interact with men on any level. The sense of constantly feeling under attack as a lesbian made me pull away from people who cared about me.

Seeing myself as someone who was “rescued” from a cult wasn't helpful or accurate, either. I found myself in radfem communities that fell into the same traps they harangue queer/trans communities for having: there was a clear figurehead(s) instead of a community dynamic. The need to have perfectly aligned beliefs outweighed the need to foster consciousness about different experiences and take coordinated action based on that, even if the feelings and motives around it are varied. Again, this resulted in me pulling away from some of my closest IRL friends. I viewed them as brainwashed simply for saying things like “trans women are women.”

I also don't think it was good to constantly engage in discussions about how insane or stupid trans and/or dysphoric people are. I developed the sense that trans people are somehow my enemies and they are actively trying to hurt me as a lesbian. I participated in an authoritarian approach to other dysphoric people pursuing transition or identifying as something other than their birth sex. I believed they were misguided and in need of saving from themselves. In hindsight, it was wrong of me to police others’ identities or assume I knew how to define their lives better than them.

It’s important to note the timeline of my peak radfem stage: 2017-2018, the peak of #MeToo. It felt for a second there that radfems might be on the precipice of some kind of big gender reckoning. In hindsight, it was a smokescreen. There was no momentum or structure to build an actual movement or anything, at least not in the way the trans community has clearly outlined its goals and strategies. We were headed nowhere.

I saw prominent radfems pissing away any credibility with unproductive discourse (i.e. arguing over gender-neutral pregnancy terms in the middle of the biggest global reckoning against anti-black racism in history), acting unnecessarily cruel and hurtful towards young trans people, particularly FTMs, aligning with right-wing racists over and over again, and generally having extremely narrow perspectives that don’t allow for multiple truths to exist simultaneously.

Being involved in community mutual aid efforts showed me what true solidarity looks like. It’s showing up for people who aren’t exactly like me on the premise that everyone deserves a good quality of life. I wasn’t just going to refuse to give someone their groceries because they were a Trump supporter – even if I disagree with them, they deserve to have food security, as everyone else should. No matter who they were, even if our beliefs were radically different, every person deserves to be safe, happy, and healthy in their life.

Considering that principle, I realized that negging trans people online isn’t activism. Insulting and mocking dysphoric people for transitioning isn’t activism. Nitpicking over language, slurs, and identity labels isn’t activism. Policing people’s experiences other than your own isn’t activism. Ninety-nine percent of the time, it’s just harassment.

I still have a lot of complicated feelings on gender identity, but honestly, it’s simply exhausting to direct my energy toward thinking about how mostly like-minded people are out to get me. Instead, I’ve found that I’d rather put that energy towards building bridges: now I actively engage in friendships with trans people, gradually make space for critical conversation, and accept that some points of ideological contention aren’t worth sacrificing so much of my community.

My trans teammates in mutual aid – mostly trans women and nonbinary folks – are wonderful, intelligent, and caring people who always kept their fingers on the pulse when it came to the community we served. I never would’ve gotten to know this if I always kept my distance as I did initially. And when I listened to them describe their personal experiences with gender, I didn’t feel as if my identity as a GNC lesbian was compromised, like I was always reactively afraid of, because it wasn’t my experience to define. I felt ashamed that I’d been closing myself off from years’ worth of friendships with an entire part of my community because I was so convinced that trans people were out to get me.

I know what some folks may be thinking while reading this: “Maybe you just buckled under the weight of reality. Maybe you’re backpedaling because you can’t stomach the truth of misogyny. Maybe you’re just too selfish to face the facts and stand up for women. You just want trans approval. You’re not a REAL feminist.”

Trust me, I’ve thought all those things enough myself, and I’ve reached a place where I know that’s not true. I can – and do – still actively support women everywhere in my life without identifying as a radfem. I took what was helpful from radical feminism, adopted it into my own life, and am trying to leave the rest behind. I think that questioning and reevaluating your beliefs, especially in times when your life has irrevocably changed, is a good thing that people should always do (and not just with radical feminism either).

Finally, and perhaps most importantly, I know that I’m not above blame for everything I’ve shared above. I'm not going to say I felt duped or brainwashed; I'm a grown woman. No matter how fucked up mentally I might have been at some points, I made my own decisions. I am responsible for what I’ve done and said, who I surround myself with, and how I respond to things. I said and did a lot of things I regret, which isn't anyone's fault other than my own.

I won’t be deleting this account, but I will be retiring it. I’ll leave this essay up in case anyone else questioning their politics finds it helpful, or if anyone has questions or wants to chat. At this point, I’d rather build bridges than burn them. The biggest lesson I’ve learned from this: if the revolution isn’t tomorrow, always choose friendship and happiness at the end of the day.

[dystopiandilfs]

Dream's discord podcast. Basically him answering questions for 2.5 hours. This will sort of be in order but I fucked up my notes so it might not be in order completely. (From 13th May 2021)

For reference the photos at the end are: A prototype of fidget spinner merch as loads of people asked, a reference photo of his favourite merch and a photo he sent of his hair to prove he wasn't a brunette.

•He said his teeth are mostly straight but he's thought about getting Invisalign. He's never had braces. He has a tiny gap in the left side of his mouth and his canines are longer and sharper (vampire arc). He's never had teeth surgery so has his wisdom teeth still.

•He thinks pineapple on pizza is good.

•He likes seafood like lobster and crab. He had crab made in an air fryer last night. He like peas. He thinks quesadillas are good and likes most food.

•He hates Coffee and most drinks

•The Dream Shorts team is Ken who is his personal reminder (Ken's main job is to spam him with texts so he doesn't forget things as he's got a habit of reading texts and not replying) and also comes up with a list of sets for Dream shorts. The builder is a friend and munchymc builder "his talent gets wasted on Dream's shorts but we pay him so"

•His editors are currently Dizzy, Firesale and Mjcr. Willz doesn't edit for him anymore

•The mask animation isn't done but Mask should be released May 21st. He wants to release them together as "the whole song is a double meaning and the whole nuance will be lost without the animation" but no matter if the animation is done the song is getting released on the 21st.

•He and Sapnap eat together often.

•He and Sapnap prefer medium rare Steak

•He wants a home gym it's something he's willing to splurge on. They currently have a weight rack but they haven't even set it up.

•"Eat the rich? Shut up shut up" - Dream

•Talked about money basically saying "Most people don't understand how money works I don't have millions in my bank account it's in assets like merch, land and warehousing for that stuff" (He's not in his landlord arc)

•He's been debating Pride Merch because of Rainbow Capitalism. He doesn't want it too be seen as a money maker and if he does most proceeds would go to charity. He's currently super busy merch wise with Sapnap joining and George in the middle of joining. He did say "Only if the LGBTQ+ community in this community wants it" He thinks he's going to at least change the merch website to a pride one. Sapnap wants to make pride merch including a rainbow flame on his.

•He wants to create a charity that's centered around helping LGBTQ+ one day because he thinks that there's a lack of them. He mentioned that creating a charity was expensive and took a lot and was a complicated process including a board of directors but he wants to do it someday.

•He wanted to buy a bunch of houses in Florida which was a service to house mostly LGBTQ+ youth and people stuck in abusive households for free to get them out of bad home environments. But he didn't because he didn't want people thinking he was profiting of of abuse victims and LGBTQ+ community.

•He said he's terrible with time management and replying to people which is why Ken helps him (and also helps George and Sapnap). He mentioned how Sam messaged multiple times and Dream just forgot to answer but felt bad "I feel like people think I hate them..... Cause I'd be mad if people did that to me"

•He tries to reply to a few texts a day (community number). He also can't do birthday messages everyday because you can only reply at certain times so it's not abusing the system so if you get one it's special. He said he does try but it's got a weird time gap.

•Him and the manhunt winner are trying to come up with a good time to film

•He wants to stream this MCC on twitch and says his team is good.

•He talks about why he's not partnered with Twitch. Basically Twitch has a lock rate (in which you make money) and you legally can't stream on YouTube. So legally if Tommy wanted to stream on YouTube he couldn't. Someone then mentioned how Bad is a twitch partner but still streams on YouTube "Bad streams on YouTube but he has for a while and I don't think that he cares" - Dream

•He likes to reply to every donation he gets on stream and feels bad when he doesn't so he'll turn them off when he streams and wants a platform deal where he can be payed to stream (not twitch). If he gets a streaming partnership he will stream a couple of times a week. He looked in to Facebook but they don't have an alias system meaning you can see everyone's actual Facebook account and personal info, he doesn't like seeing real names on Facebook so it would require a lot of altering if he was to stream there so he's thinking it's probably going to be YouTube.

•He was asked about if his demographic was what he expected and he said he went in with no expectations, he didn't even know what stans were, wasn't really on social media so he wasn't aware of the fan culture. "You guys are a handful sometimes but it's worth it"

•He also mentioned how he and the DreamSMP changed the twitch audience demographic. It used to be male dominated in both streamers and audience and now it's almost split which is unheard on.

•He has 5 fidget spinners in his house. Two in his bedroom. Two in his office. One in the living room.

•He likes his Minecraft skin as he thinks the arm is cook and you never see the rest of his skin really. He says it's unique and different and "me". Dream: You can't even tell half the skins apart on MC.

•He's not lost the motivation to stream. Most of the times if he wants to stream he gets George or Sapnap to do it and he just turns up. It's more beneficial to them as they have donos and subs on. (Don't we fucking know it "can you say hi to")

•He has listened to Lovejoy. Says the ep was great and they're very talented and awesome. Doesn't know what his favourite song is but probably would pick One Day because the chorus slaps.

•RIP to acoustic Roadtrip. He said instead of acoustic Roadtrip we get Mask so no losses today for Dream stans.

•"With Roadtrip I went to Parker and I said Hey I have a story I want to tell through music. I have no experience with that can you help me" He said sure. He crafted the music and melodies and how things are formed where it's catchy. I have less comfort singing that. I love the song and it's my song, it's very representative of me and I'm sure I could sing it but it's a song I'd be kinds of scared to sing live, with Mask I basically did everything. I sat there the entire time and maybe an hour out if the 100 I wasn't in the call. Dream came up with the lyrics and main melody for Mask (First one he's ever come up with) "That was just notes in my fucking voice memos"

•The clip we heard of Mask was a prechorus not the actual chorus. He thinks he'd be more comfortable to do a mask acoustic and it's more melodic than Roadtrip. The chorus also has a lot of instruments similar to Roadtrip. Mask starts of slow and guitar with minimal reverb and is more raw.

• He doesn't want music to be his main thing. It's something fun to do and he's passionate about it as it's a way to express emotions. He wants to release mask then go from there. He wants to release at least one more song but has nothing on his mind currently. His two ideas were Roadtrip and Mask.

•He wouldn't quit his job to become a pizza delivery man.

•His favourite features on himself are eyes or freckles and he also confirmed that he does have eyebrows.

•He was told that Parkour warrior would be bought back some time in the near future and he got excited for it. "Even if I don't win, which I will, it'll be fun"

•Went on about his MCC team but I'm not going to put that in as we should be getting them today. He did say he wasn't on Pink but he did sound confused. (For reference he's always in Pink as it's the last team announced and keeps the hype up by announcing the biggest streamer last)

•Said he and his mum had the Mr Beast burger. He recommends because he likes the avacado. He mentioned how Mr Beast uses "Ghost Kitchens" which is basically where he gives restaurants permission to cook his food so it's restaurant quality food.

•His favourite piece of merch is the circle smile. (The pool photo on Instagram). He said the quality was bad (he worked with a different company and didn't have his own company) and it was elasticy feeling and he's planning on re-releasing it again but with good quality.

•He's started to send merch out in custom packaging. So his bags have the smile and will mostly be green. Sapnap's has the flame and is either black or white. He's also trying to make it so every order has the sticker packs for both him and Sapnap.

•He loves the coins as it's cheaper than a hoodie but still celebrates the milestones and will last a long time. He mentioned how the old coins are getting removed off the site and how if you have any of the coins your special because only a few thousand get made. He's kept around 100 of each coin that he wants to give away in person.

•He wanted to have a cool store where you could access computers that give you access to the DreamSMP in spectator mode. But it's too costly and would require too much time and isn't safe fight now. He doesn't think it'd be worth it financially.

•Most of the hoodie are black instead of multiple colours because of limited supply and covid. Getting the colours are harder because if the pandemic which hopefully won't be an issue soon.

•He wants to do a short meetup tour with Sapnap and George with a few locations in the US (and if others nearby want to join like Quackity or Karl they can). He also wants to visit Australia, UK, Canada, Mexico and Philippines and do something like that there but definitely at least visit with George and Sapnap.

•He's never been to the Philippines but his mum has. He wants to set up a place in the Philippines where he can ship merch in bulk and it would help to reduce shipping. However it would probably be big milestone merch.

•He's not got the vaccine yet but will get it when he needs to. He doesn't leave the house so he doesn't see the point.

•He's the ideas man. George's footcam video was Dream's idea. The T-shirt video was Dream's idea. Most if not all of the Dream Team's videos are Dream's ideas.

•Said he's got a similar/the same hair colour as Froy (Dream buddy at this point the only difference between you and Froy is that one of you is dating Richard Madden /lh)

[traumendesmadchen]

Chronotopia August Update: Don’t Hesitate

After generating the last build, a lot happened in my life. One of the contracts I was working on took much longer than anticipated and I got sick with what appears to be my 3rd COVID infection (luckily I’m not doing too bad compared to the previous ones but it’s still incapacitating). All of that while I was taking a new gig in the hope of being able to pay my future rent because I’m actually going to move to a new place sometime next month. As such I was not able to make much progress on Chronotopia and it got me thinking.

The end of the year is looming and I have no idea how much of my time this sudden house move is going to steal. I am clearly not in condition to crunch: burnout is rearing its ugly head after all those years and I don’t want to risk getting long COVID another time. But I don’t want to wait aimlessly either: this game has been delayed enough times already. So I thought a change of strategy was in order.

CinnamonDevil is currently on the last purgatory illustration. Mae was unfortunately busy for a while so she is quite behind with intimate scenes but she should be able to complete the remaining ones soon. So my plan is to code and edit the purgatory epilogue as well as integrate the abridged SFW version of the intimates scenes in September-October. Then, a beta version of Chronotopia: Second Skin will be available in (early) November to any backer who pledged for a copy (digital or physical). It will be an opt-in system, meaning that you only get early access if you want to.

The beta version will contain the entire game, minus the full intimate scenes. Everything will be playable, just expect minor bugs and mistakes here and there. In the meantime, I will keep polishing Chronotopia: fixing bugs, harmonising the directing, hunting typos, revising the translation and integrating the full intimate scenes. Those are all little things that quickly add up but I hope that, with your help, I will be able to work toward an early 2023 release. Hopefully before my birthday; wouldn’t that be a great gift?

To this end, I will send surveys in the next few days/weeks to ask you what kind of key you’d like (itchio or Steam), if you’d like to play the beta, what illustrations you’d like to see become a wallpaper, and the name you'd like to be credited as. So make sure to check your emails in the foreseeable future and to update your address if necessary.

Speaking of surveys, here are the results of the fun summer poll both on SurveyMonkey and Twitter. A lot of you seemed to love Médeia’s illustration too, that makes me happy <3.

Next time, I’ll show you a pre-selection for the wallpaper candidates. Feel free to suggest some if you already like a specific illustration I’ve shown in the past.

[dameronology]

everything i need {mando x reader}

summary: din has to rethink his life plans how that you’re by side - not that he’s complaining {i do have a taglist but it’s 1am and i simply cannot be arsed to find it, please accept my not very sincere and very tired apologies}

warnings: much language 

enjoy!! sorry for the lack of imagines lately, i’m back at work and working as a director on two of my group projects so i am neck deep in covid-related paperwork. 

- jazz

p.s this has not been proofread, because i am just that shit 

Din Djarin had never needed a reason to find a home. Settling down permanently wasn’t an option in his line of work. Permanence had never been part of his plan. 

Then again, a lot of things hadn’t been part of his plan. The Child certainly hadn’t; if you’d told him five years ago that his firstborn son was going to look like...well, like that, he probably would have drop kicked you into the next rim. It didn’t matter that he couldn’t imagine his life without the kid now, or that he would rain hell on anyone who would dare lay a finger on the toad-like toddler. His life had gone in a direction he never could have anticipated and his son wasn’t even the biggest detour. That was you. Din wasn’t even entirely sure where you’d come from or when you’d come into his life, but he would have first surrendered his ship and everything on it before even considering the notion of living without you. Whether it was simply luck, or whether there was some higher power who finally decided to give him a fucking break, The Mandalorian had a family. He was no longer a lone gunslinger with nothing to lose; now, he had everything to lose.

The fear that came with his newfound vulnerability was a small price to pay, however. In the quieter moments - when it was just you and him and the kid - he had no question in his mind that everything was worth it. Every fright, every concern, every agonising moment that Din spent overthinking and calculating a million and one ways to keep you both safe was completely and irretrievably worthwhile. It was a little unconventional but a family was a family. A clan of three. 

You didn’t often get to take breaks. They came every few months, usually whenever Din needed had had a particularly had job. You’d found your place halfway between helping him kick-ass and babysitting the Child (who at this point, was essentially your son too). It meant that days you were running across rooftops in Nevarro with a blaster in hand, and others you were running around after your kid, holding a diaper rather than a gun. The duality was astounding.

The last few weeks had been a little hard. There had been one bounty who had been relentless, and another who had tried to take a hit at you. It hadn’t taken long for you to put the bastard in his place but the Mandalorian had taken it a little more personally than you. Before throwing him into the carbonite, Din had broken a little more than six of the target’s ribs and given him a nice shiner on his left eye. He never minded when he was the one who had a punch or two thrown at him but when it was you? Din never took to it lightly. 

Once both bounties had been sent to their respective clients and you’d collected your rewards, Din had set the Crest’s path towards a jungle planet. It was one he had frequented a few years ago - before you, before the kid - and whilst it was a little desolate, it was safe. It was away from any Imps, any potential danger. It meant that you could both let your guards down for a bit and put your feet up. Plus, the Child had been dealing with cabin fever for the better part of two weeks and you were convinced you were going to lose it if you didn’t get the little fucker to some open space soon. Preferably one with lots of frogs, because he was not taking well to the freeze-dried food that you’d been fobbing him with him for the last few months. 

You were laying in an open field, weight propped up on your elbows as you glanced out into the grass over your sunglasses. Din was making his way back towards you, trudging through the long blades; the low evening sun was bouncing off the beskar of his helmet, causing you to scrunch your face up. You could tell from the way he was talking that he was exhausted. He’d been on kid duty all day (it was your turn tomorrow) and somehow, that was more tiring that any bounty. 

‘Where is he-’

Your question was answered before you could even finish it; the little creature suddenly appeared through the grass, hitting your shin with a thump. Digging his claws into your jeans, he scrambled up onto your legs, plopping into your lap and leaning against your stomach. He peered up at you with big brown eyes for a second, before twisting back around to rest his head against your chest for a nap. There went your evening plans.

‘Did he eat anything?’ You raised your arm out to Din, signalling for him to sit next to you.

Aside from his helmet, he had shed the rest of his armour. The material of the undershirt he was wearing was soft against your skin as you leant into his side, letting it a small hmph as you did. He instinctively wrapped his arm your waist - because even on a safe planet, Din was naturally protective - and pulled you closer, using his free hand to run a finger over the kid’s wrinkly head. 

‘I saw him swallow a frog whole.’ His modulated voice replied. ‘It’s still disturbing.’

‘Not as disturbing as when he ate the fish whole.’ You grimaced, glancing up at him. ‘The thing was bigger than him and he gulped it down. Biologically, it doesn’t work.’

‘Nothing about him makes sense.’ He said. 

‘The only thing that makes sense is that nothing makes sense.’ You joked. ‘But I guess we’ll find out a little bit more when we work out where the hell he actually came from.’

It was a subject you didn’t approach too much. You knew that one day, you’d have to hand him back over to his own species; it was all well and good to look after him when he was still small, but you had no idea what he was going to grow to be. Finding his home planet had sort of been a secondary quest for you and Din, between bounties. Given how slow the little bastard aged, time wasn’t too much of a concern. Knowing where to start was the problem.

‘I wish we could keep him forever.’ You quietly murmured. 

‘Me too, cya’rika.’ Din gave your shoulders a light squeeze. ‘But we have to do what’s right for him.’

‘I know.’ You nodded. ‘What do you think we’ll do after we’ve found his home? His species?’

It wasn’t something that Din had given much thought. He was so used to planning everything in the moment - hours ahead, at most. He hadn’t thought in terms of days, let alone weeks or years. It made sense to, because you weren’t going anywhere. He had an opportunity to have a life outside of being a bounty hunter; you’d shown him that much. He’d found a home with you - a sense of contentment and belonging - but in a physical sense, he’d never thought about settling on a planet. When he was younger, the idea of having his own children and his own clan had played on his mind, but it had faded as the years went by. Maybe it was time to revisit the idea.

‘We could get married.’ Din quietly suggested. ‘Start a clan of our own. Something permanent.’

‘I didn’t realise that the word permanent was in your vocabulary.’ You replied. 

‘It wasn’t. Not before you.’ He said. ‘There was a lot of things I never thought about before you.’

‘A clan?’ You intertwined your fingers with his, giving his hand a light squeeze. ‘In a few years, absolutely - but I am not doing it on that pile of junk.’

‘That pile of junk got us here.’

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head - but there was a smile on your face. ‘We don’t have to think about it now. One step at a time.’

There was silence for a minute, as you both pondered to yourselves. In the same way you hadn’t been part of Din’s plan, he hadn’t really been part of yours. When you’d met him, you’d never expected to fall in love with him. You couldn’t see his face, or his emotions or his feelings - but after a while, you saw him. It was though you had seen straight through the armour and right into his very soul without either of you trying. You were first person to see him as Din, and not as the Mandalorian. You understood his humanity, and the fact he wasn’t always a warrior; it meant he could let his walls down around you, and seek support and solace in a way he’d always thought to be terrifying. And it was, at first, but now it felt natural and healthy. He had you and you had him. Nothing else mattered.

‘I’ll go wherever you go.’ Din broke the quiet, eyes falling down to where the child lay in your lap.

‘You’d do that for me?’ You rested a hand on the side of his helmet; it was cold against your skin, but the gesture was there. ‘You’d give us all this up for me?’

‘I’m not giving anything up.’ He replied. ‘When I have you, I have everything I need.’

Din had always been blunt and straight to the point: sometimes it was a blessing, sometimes it was a curse. Right now, it was completely and entirely a virtue. It meant that you didn’t have to second guess his feelings for you, or worry about him leaving you. Everything he said to you was a promise. Talks of your future were mutuals goals, things to look forward to together. 

‘I love you.’ You pressed a kiss to the edge of his helmet. 

‘I love you too.’ Din replied. 

‘So let’s retire right now and get a moisture farm on Tatooine-’

‘- don’t push it.’ 

[pink-imagines]

snow day

request: Hi hi! Can I get a headcannon of needy Todoroki were Todoroki is in the ~mood~ 😏but his s/o is out shopping. But when they get back he’s all on them and pretty much attacking them w kisses and cuddles.

a/n: let’s just say for this fic’s sake covid never existed!! (stay safe ppl, try to stay at home as much as possible!) also hi! i’m back, i literally have no excuse now but i’ll be posting a bit more soon hopefully. (you can probably tell that i started writing this back in january)

warnings: mentions of something smutty that might go down but no smut and no other warnings!

masterlist

requesting rules

The snow couldn’t seem to stop falling. It had already been snowing for the past few days, but the weather didn’t change. It stayed the same and the snow piled on and on. You quite liked this kind of weather, somehow seeing people wrapped up in their scarfes with beanies dragged far over their ears made you feel warm - despite the cold weather.  Today was your day off work, so you had a wonderful lazy morning with a bath and eating breakfast while watching TV. The only thing you could think of that would make this better was if Shoto would be here. He was, unlike you, out doing work. You remember teasing him lightly about it yesterday, that you got to spend the day at home while he had to be working out in the snow. In reality you worried that he’d become sick or catch a cold, even though you knew he stayed safe.  Either way, you decided to treat yourself today with some shopping. It had been so long since you could actually go out to shop, so despite the cold you wanted to go outside.

You took the train to the mall and walked through the stores. The only thing you were planning on buying was a sweater, considering that you had been frequently stealing more and more of Shoto’s hoodies so you should probably get some of your own. When you saw the little jewlery shop you stopped dead in your tracks. Knowing that your wallet would start screaming if you walked in there you decided to keep it to window shopping. Earrnings, necklaces, bracelets... but most importantly rings. The memory of your mom straight up asking Shoto when he was planning on proposing came to mind. A smile grazed your lips, he had been so flustered that he choked on whatever he was eating. You had been trying to tell your mom off when he put a hand on your thigh and lightly brushed his thumb across your skin there. “No, it’s fine.. we’ll see in the future.”, he had said and had given your mom a soft smile. If it weren’t for the fact that people were around you would’ve started giggling, but you held yourself back and kept glancing over the rings. One in particular caught your eye, a simple silver one with a smaller diamond. You knew you couldn’t wear a lot of jewlery for your line of work so it seemed so perfect. For the sake of the memory that your brain decided to pull out from the dust, you took a picture of it and sent it to Shoto. -So... when’s it happening? :P You snickered to yourself and started walking again but your phone buzzed quicker than you expected. -You’re starting to sound like your mom A laugh escaped your lips at the message. However, it did surprise you that he could be texting you back so quickly since he was at work. -I was just joking.. aren’t you supposed to be working right now? The text bubble that indicated that he was typing appeared immediately. -Not on patrol today and I just finished my paperwork. I’m about to go into a meeting though -Is that a warning or a challenge? -Y/N. Do. Not. Yet another laughed made it’s way up your throat and you put your phone away again. He usually sounded cold over text, but you could always see right through it. Maybe that’s what four years spent together does to you. 

The hours passed by as you walked around in the mall. It was actually quite pleasant, as not many people were there considering the fact that it was a weekday. As you were trying on clothing in yet another store you found a sweater that you really liked. It was an oversized black sweater that went down you your mid thigh and the collar was a bit wider, almost creating an off the shoulder look. You smiled at yourself in the mirror. Under the sweater you had the black bralette you had tried on moments before. Both of the items fit you perfectly and together it created a very cute look. Without thinking you sent a picture to Shoto, asking him if you should buy it. Thinking he probably had his phone off during the meeting, you put your phone down and changed back to your clothes. When you had just finished up putting your pants back on you looked at you phone again to see Shoto’s messages... you forgot his messages are connected to his laptop as well. -Y/N I told you I was in a meeting! -I mean you look very pretty, I like the sweater.. but if you’re going to send me pictures while I’m at work please put pants on. This was not a funny situation, is what you tried to tell yourself... but that didn’t stop you from smiling at the thought of his ears going red in the meeting room. -Sorry, I forgot! I’ll make it up to you by making you soba, okay? It took a while for him to answer so you went out of the dressing room and put away the things you weren’t going to buy. -... fine. I’ll be home after this meeting, so maybe around 5. -See you then ;) Were you being cheeky? Yes, but it wasn’t anything that he hadn’t dealt with before. 

After making your purchase you looked at your phone and saw that the clock was nearing 4:45 pm, this meaning that it was time for you to go back home. You went over to the trainstation only to see that the train you were taking home was delayed by 20 minutes due to the snow. With a sigh you sat down on the nearest bench and took out your phone. Because of the 20 minutes it would take to arrive at your home station and the 5 minute walk home, you’d be home in about 50 minutes. Knowing Shoto, he’d probably already be home by now as he most likely managed to cut the meeting short - what was the meaning of staying longer when you had already gotten to the point? Even so, you decided to not call him just yet in case he actually still was in the meeting. 

Time passed and as soon as the clock struck 5:00 pm you got a call. “Hey, are you okay? I’ve been waiting for a few and you’re still not home...”, Shoto’s voice was slightly distorted over the line due to your bad connection but you were still relieved to hear his voice. “The train got delayed, can you believe it?”, you sighed heavily. “Yes I can actually, it’s been snowing all day.”, he said calmly, “Do you need me to pick you up? I can be there in 10 minutes.” “No it’s fine, the train should be here in 5 and then I’ll be at the station in just 20 minutes.”, you stood up and looked by the track for the train. “Are you sure? The train’s probably gonna be packed.” “It’s fine, I have headphones with me so I won’t even notice.”, you smiled at his tries to come get you, “Besides I can practically see the train by now.” “Okay... then I’ll meet you at the station.”, he answered, as if it was nothing. “No, baby, you don’t have to do that. You’ve been at work all day just rest please?”, you reasoned. “I’ll see you in 20 minutes, sweetheart.”, he hung up on you. You were taken aback by the usage of the nickname, he barely ever called you by petnames. Before you could think to much of it the train arrived and you put in your earbuds and got on quickly to find a good seat.

The train wasn’t as packed as Shoto had thought. Though there was a crying child in your cart. The mother who frantically tried to calm her baby down gave you an apologetic smile. You made sure to look friendly back at her to make sure she understood that you didn’t mind. The poor woman was trying to keep her child from screaming while also balancing groceries and a stroller at the same time.  “Do you need any help?”, you asked and took out your earbuds. “Please.”, the woman gave you a relieved look. You took her grocery bags and balanced them against some empty seats. Then you took the stroller from her hands so that she could properly care for her baby. “He’s just a bit hungry...”, she said and took out a bottle to give to the young boy. “... I’ve never understood how parents always know what their children want like that.”, you said mostly to yourself but the woman answered anyways. “I guess it’s an instinct.”, she said with a warm smile, “Thank you for your help. My husband’s working late so he couldn’t take care of the groceries tonight.” “Ah... I understand.”, you nodded. “Are you married?”, she asked and when she saw your shocked face she quickly apologized, “Sorry I didn’t mean to pry, I was just trying to make small talk.” “It’s alright.”, you stifled a laugh, “I’m actually not married... not yet at least, my mom’s been pressuring my boyfriend for a while now so who knows.”, you joked. “Oh, you have a boyfriend. Have you two been together for long?”, her demeanor had changed back to the kind and warm one from before. “A few years, actually.”, you nodded, “He’s a very sweet guy and-... that’s him actually.” Your phone started buzzing and Shoto’s caller-ID flashed up on the screen. His picture that you had chosen was of him holding a puppy husky that you had been thinking of adopting. Sadly, you ended up not doing that since you were both to busy to take care of a dog - let alone a puppy. You excused yourself to the woman next to you and answered. “Hi, babe, is everything okay?”, you asked. “Yeah, I just wanted to say that I’m by the station. Was the train packed?”, he spoke softly, which made it clear for you that he was in fact outside. “Not at all actually, it’s quite roomy. I told you that you didn’t have to wait for me though...”, you sighed. “I wanted to. It’s fine.”, he said and then added in a whisper, “Then I get to see you sooner.” Your face flushed up in all shades of pink as he said that. He was never usually this affectionate, but you couldn’t deny that you absolutely loved it. “You’re cute, Shoto.”, you chuckled. “Don’t laugh at me.”, you heard him huff slightly. “Sorry, sorry.”, you smiled, “I’ll be by the station in a few minutes if I’m lucky, okay? Thank you for waiting for me.” “No problem... see you soon.”, he said and hung up again. When you turned back to the woman sitting beside her you could tell she was holding back her excitement. “That was the sweetest conversation I’ve ever heard. That sounded like it was straight out of a story!”, she realized what she said and quickly apologized again, “Sorry! I didn’t mean to eavesdrop!” “It’s no problem, we all do it sometimes.”, you tried to control the blush that was creeping across your face but it was near impossible. “I bet he’ll propose to you soon.”, she said and looked back at her baby, “I hope he does.” “Thank you.”, you smiled and looked down at the baby, who was staring back up at you. You waved at the child and he let out a gurgling laugh that had your heart melting. Today was certainly a special day.

You and the woman just happened to get off by the same stop so you helped her get her grocery bags out of the cart. When you saw Shoto standing by himself you waved and called his name. He turned to you and smiled softly, almost longlingly. “He’s handsome too... wow, you’re lucky.”, she smiled to you, “Thank you for the help, miss.” “No problem!”, you smiled back and watch her walk away before turning your attention to the man walking towards you. “I haven’t seen you all day.”, he embraced you with a sigh. Hugs were normal for the two of you, but absolutely not in public. Your body stiffened in shock before settling in his arms and hugging him back. Eventually he let go of you and took a step back. “Who was that woman? Do I know her?”, he asked. “No, I just met her on the train. Let’s get home, it’s freezing out here!”, you said and took his arm in yours.

The two of you walked in silence, as you usually did, but there was one thing that was running around in your mind. “Do you ever think of having children?”, you asked out of the blue, your breath forming white clouds in the cold air. Shoto stopped in his tracks and looked at you. It wasn’t until then you had realized what you had said, maybe not directly but the question was floating around your heads. “Children, huh?”, Shoto took a deep breath. You peered up at him through your eyelashes, afraid that he’d look disgusted or even scared. He didn’t. His mind was somewhere else, you could tell by the far away look in his eyes. Shoto’s face was dusted pink but, just like yours, you couldn’t tell if it was because he was flustered or cold. “I’ve never thought about it, actually.”, he looked at you which made you look away, “Not against the thought of it though. Let’s talk it through some other time.” He said it so casually. As if this was obvious and not a huge step in a relationship. Then he just kept walking. If it wasn’t for your arm that was still wrapped around his, you would’ve forgotten to walk along with him.  “Don’t be embarrased about it, please.”, he said suddenly, “It’s good to bring up these things.” “I just thought about it... you know... the woman on the train and everything...”, you muttered. “Sweetheart.”, there was the nickname again, “I told you not to be embarrased about it.” After a few years you’d think he wouldn’t be able to make you weak in the knees anymore. That was wrong. You hummed in response to what he said and leaned your head against his shoulder. There was an urge in you to feel a sudden intimacy between the two of you and that was the first thing that came to mind. “Are you cold?”, he asked. “Not extremely...”, you looked up at the clear sky, “... maybe it’s not the best time for cold soba though.” “It’s always a good time for cold soba.”, he answered, completely serious but you still laughed. You laughed because it sounded like him. You laughed because it would ease the excitement stuck in your stomach from what he had said before. You laughed because at that moment you felt so incredibly wonderful - and who wouldn’t laugh at that?

When you got home you made yourself a cup of tea while Shoto stuck to heating up by the radiator. “Are you sure you still want cold soba? We could always make warm soba.”, you suggested as you poured the hot water into your cup. “I say we make cold soba.”, Shoto shrugged as he kept his hands on the warm radiator. His nose was still red from the cold. “Then we make cold soba.”, you nodded.

After eating and cleaning up you sat down on the couch and turned on the TV. Since you usually sat with a bit of space in between the two of you, you did so. However, this time Shoto scooched closer to you and put your head on his shoulder, only to then wrap his arm around your shoulders. “Is this okay?”, he asked quietly to not disturb the show playing. You could care less about the show, your heart was beating loud enough for you to not even hear it. No words would come out of your mouth so you hummed as an answer to his question. He had been acting very lovingly the entire night, something that he didn’t always do.  “Are you okay, Shoto?”, you asked suddenly, “Did something happen at work?” “Why do you ask?” “You just seem... more cuddly?”, you looked up at him, catching him staring but he didn’t look away. “I just missed you then I guess.”, he said, “... and you sent me that picture and that wasn’t very fair.” He looked away and now he couldn’t blame the cold on his reddened face. That’s how you remembered your sweater that you had bought. “Right the sweater!”, you exclaimed, “Can I show you?” “Sure.”, he said and watched you get up, “You seem very excited about this sweater.” “Yes! And you should be too, because now I won’t be stealing yours anymore!”, you took your bag and walked over to the bathroom. “But I like it when you wear my clothes...” “Then...I won’t be stealing your clothes as often anymore!”, you smiled before closing the bathroom door behind you.

You walked out of the bathroom, dressed just like you were in the picture, and walked up to him. He looked over at you, looked you up and down, and then stood up. “What do you think?”, you smiled as he pulled you closer by your waist so that you could wrap your arms around his neck. “I like it more when you wear my clothes... but this is also very nice.”, he leaned down and kissed you quick, “Let’s go have that talk about having children...”, he whispered and started guiding you to the bedroom.

-

permanent taglist: @theoceanphoenixhasrisen | @raven-r0ses | @darkbeautyswife | @sondering-thoughts | @gowoneandonlyone | @bnhabadass | @queenblackcat | @jayetheanimefreek101 | @witchy-anna | @cutest-celestial-princess | @missymysa | @karebear5118 | @weebartistinc | @crystal-lilac | @brithedemonspawn​ | 

[bts-weverse-trans]

201124 Weverse Magazine ‘BE’ Comeback Interview - J-Hope

j-hope: “Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world” BTS BE comeback interview 2020.11.24

On April 28, j-hope streamed a Log ( ON ) video of his dance warm-up on BTS’s YouTube channel, BANGTANTV. Over the course of an hour and four minutes, he stretches out his whole body, gradually advances from small motions up to big movements, and demonstrates more of his other techniques. And he didn’t leave out his cooldown exercise, either. This has been j-hope’s life as a BTS member for the past seven years.

A whole lot happened this year. j-hope: Like I said in another interview, it’s been a roller coaster of a year. It started out with our performance at the Grammys, which was really, really, great, and then Map of the Soul: 7 came out, which was great, too, and then it plummeted. With COVID-19 happening, I did a lot of thinking, did some studying, then everyone met “Dynamite” and we had some great results. And the ride repeated. Roller coasters are scary, but you keep thinking about them even after you get off. That’s how I felt about this year: it was scary, but memorable.

One of those memorable things must be how “Dynamite” topped the Billboard Hot 100 but you never had a chance to actually go to the U.S. j-hope: So when we got first place, we couldn’t even check the charts. We were asleep. We checked when we woke up, and there we were, at the top. But then we went straight to work. (laughs) We had to film something here in Korea. It was hard to enjoy ourselves, the whole situation being what it was, but it was all right because we could still enjoy it together.

You must have had a lot on your mind, making BE during this kind of year. j-hope: I tend to think of BTS albums as being a reflection of the whole team, but this time I thought of it as putting in the stories I wanted to tell, making it my music and infusing myself into the new album while still being a BTS album. It turned out to be right at home with BTS’s color, and the whole team’s energy led to an even bigger synergy.

What made you think to go in that direction? j-hope: We started this album off by getting together and asking what kind of story we wanted to tell. The end result of that conversation was, “Well, hey, we still have to live with this situation; we can’t give up.” And from there, “Life Goes On” was born, and then we got to work on the stories we each wanted to tell. I think it sounds more raw, since we tried to capture the emotions we felt living through the pandemic.

I imagine you each had a lot of songs you wanted to include, and that your opinions were probably all a bit different. How did you compromise on the final product? j-hope: None of us made any kind of plan. We’d listen to a track and someone would ask, “Hey, anybody wanna give this a try?” and someone else would say, “Me! I’ll do it.” We just did it that way. There were clashes, too. When each person starts to speak louder, it’s hard to find a common ground. But we’ve always been good at communicating with one another, and we know when to back down or be gracious, so everything went smoothly including planning for the unit songs.

How did each of you choose your songs? You put “Dis-ease” on the album. j-hope: There’s one song where we were working in the studio and someone said, “That track wasn’t very good, was it? Jung Kook’s one before was better” and we’d switch on the spot. The song would be done recording and we talked to the label and ended up switching it out. We listened to it all together and said, “What about this?” And that’s how we decided. So then “Life Goes On” was done, and I wasn’t sure if “Dis-ease” would be on the album. We gave the seven songs from each member to Jimin, who was project manager, and he suggested we listen to them first and then get feedback from people inside the company. I think it was one of the stories each member could feel was his own.”

Where did you get the idea for the theme of “Dis-ease”? j-hope: First, I wanted to get into the mindset that this song is a sickness. When I make a song, I work on the chorus first, and then move onto the first verse. When I had only finished the chorus the song felt upbeat, but I thought the overall theme shouldn’t be too playful. That wouldn’t reflect how I felt. But while the theme of “Dis-ease” itself isn’t very light, when it fuses with the beat, it feels as if the song is trying to get over itself and stay positive. So I threw some scratching into the chorus and put in some “bbyap bbyap bbayp” and then started to think, “Aha! I’d better call this song ‘Dis-ease.’ ”

I didn’t expect you to write a song portraying your love–hate relationship with your work as a disease. A lot of people would expect you to have a positive, hopeful attitude, given your name. j-hope: I was too busy to ever give much thought about the work itself. But, as you know, that suddenly changed, and there was a lot we could no longer do. When I was working, I’d say, “Ugh, I need a break,” but then we took time off and the words, “Ugh, I want to work,” jumped out of my mouth! That’s what made me think more closely: “Why is this bothering me? I have a chance to rest—just take it. Why do I feel like I need to work under these circumstances? Is this an occupational disease?” I felt like this was a part of me that I could express at this point in time.

This is the first time in your lyrics I’ve heard how hard you push yourself to be successful. It made me wonder about the burden you felt about work over the past seven years. j-hope: Out of habit, I would say, “I’m okay; I have hope,” and keep working, but I think I was just avoiding my work-related problems rather than facing them head on. The nice thing about music is that I can say what’s on my mind, even feeling of sadness or depression, in beautiful ways.  I don’t usually express those feelings but this time I wanted to try.

It sounds like you have lots of different thoughts about work. j-hope: With my work? Well, actually, I’m not sure. Work is kind of an ugly duckling. Work gives me good energy but there’s energy you get from resting. But someone like me feels alive when they’re working, so I need to keep moving and keep doing. I feel anxious when I stop and content when I go. Every once in a while I don’t want to work, but I can’t not work.

You’re saying you and work go well together? j-hope: Exactly. It’s easier just to think simple. If you think too hard, that’s when things get difficult. Because I’m me, I can’t just keep it simple all the time, but I’m trying my hardest to do my best.

Thinking simple isn’t always so simple. j-hope: Yeah. Maybe it’s because I don’t have many problems to deal with. I feel uncertainty because of that. Uncertain about how my identity will be affected if I do encounter some great hardship.

BTS has faced a lot of hardship, though, right? j-hope: That is also true. (laughs) But the team wouldn’t have kept going if it’d just been me cheering ourselves on. We’re possible because we all think the same way. I wonder if we would’ve been able to come this far if it was just me saying, “Let’s go, guys!” That’s why I’m even more thankful to the other members.

What do those emotional changes affect your music? j-hope: I didn’t want to make an overly cheery song this time. I thought it would be best to do some softer songs about the way I was feeling this whole time, so I chose “Dis-ease” as well as “Fly to My Room.” The other members also thought, “Yeah, we’ve done a lot of bright songs, so it should be fine if we try it this way, too.” “Blue & Grey” is like that, too. I love that song.

You have a completely different voice when you rap on “Blue & Grey.” Did your rap style also change, along with your emotions? j-hope: I wanted “Blue & Grey” to sound like I was talking, actually. The tone and feel of my voice changes a lot depending on how I vocalize my rap.  I noticed that a lot this time. Namjoon actually helped me a ton. His part was after mine, so I turned to him and said, “Maybe it would sound better if I did it like this,” and tried it out. Then I used his advice and found the right sound.

How does it feel moving away from your normal style? j-hope: It’s really refreshing. I thought it wouldn’t work but I think it did after all. And I always thought this was a feel that I wanted to give it a try. For me, BE is sort of like the first step down an unfamiliar path, so there were parts that were challenging, and also parts that were a welcome change.

I think your rap in “Dis-ease” demonstrates that change well. Instead of trying to keep time in the intro, your flow just follows the story. j-hope: I made sure not to overthink anything this time. It ended up sounding natural because I just matched the rhythm of the words as they left my mouth. And it was refreshing because I haven’t done a long verse like in “Dis-ease” in forever. When we rap, there tend to be four or eight-ish lines; I thought I’d try and pack in a verse with sixteen. It also helped because the lyrics came out before many of the other things for this song.

The music makes “Dis-ease” sound upbeat, but then there’s a surprising message: “To be honest, I have this problem.” It’s like you were holding yourself back from crossing a line. j-hope: It was something like that. Shouldn't we stay on this line? Maybe that’s a disease too (laughs). I thought if j-hope leaned too much to one side people might think that’s strange, too. That’s why I tried to stick to my standards, but since I’m also human I also expressed emotions I couldn’t articulate into music.

You don’t want to try and cross that line? j-hope: I’ve thought about it, obviously. I want to, but in my life itself and in my mind, I always think if there’s a line, it shouldn’t be crossed. But I’m becoming more generous to myself about crossing lines when it comes to music.

So you haven’t crossed yet, but right now you want to say, “I have something else,” and go further. j-hope: Yes. This is maybe a time when I really need to. I’ve been lucky because I met great people, had success and reached where I am now. Now that I’m here, I always want to try new things myself and keep growing. That’s why I’m working hard and thinking about what kind of music I should make.

There’s a part in “Fly to My Room” where you sing, “You can change the way you think.” It’s like you were explaining the past seven years of your life. j-hope: It all depends on how you look at it. Say there’s some kind of food. You might feel lonely while eating it by yourself, but if you forget about your loneliness for a minute and think, “There is no difference in food I would be eating out (with other people) anyway,” then it’s just like eating out. So even though I was stuck feeling lonely at home, I started to think of it as another trip instead. I thought of my room as my world, and delivery food as a three-star hotel meal. As you can tell from the title, I worked on that song by thinking about the way I endured this year so far.

And why did you decide to “change the way you think?” j-hope: Because I get a lot of love. Because I’m in this position and in this place, there’s things I have to deal with, and I should do things and think things I am able to bear. I thought about that a lot and accepted it. So I thought about what I could do during these hard times, and how I could help out my friends, my team. I think I’m still going through that process, too, so everything’s an “-ing”, because I might need to know what to do later about what I can do, even if I don’t quite know it yet.

What effect does being surrounded by so much love have on you? j-hope: It’s amazing to be loved by even one person. Even just one, single love is beautiful, but we’re getting love from all over the world. And I know this isn’t something to take for granted. I’m so incredibly thankful that sometimes I feel overwhelmed just thinking, ‘Wow, how can I ever return this much love?’ I want to express that in any way possible, every moment I can, because I’m so honored to be so loved that I can’t begin to put it into words.

A little while ago, in an interview with Rolling Stone India, you said that, when you were young, you equated debuting with success. What does success mean to you now, now that you’ve had success after success? j-hope: Success … It’s a simple idea, but it can weigh on you. In all aspects of life, I think success means being satisfied with what you’re able to do.When you lose faith in your work and it starts becoming a chore, that’s when it starts to get depressing.

There are inevitably times when you can’t enjoy it. j-hope: It’s just, you know, it’s really simple. If you can’t do it now, you can always do it later. Do that, and you can put your mind at ease. And I think that’s the secret to living a long, happy life. Anything you can’t do in your 20s, you can just do in your 40s. Of course, there’s going to be stuff you should do now while you’re still (laughs) energetic. But if that’s the position you’re in right now, you just have to ride it out. Try again later if you can’t enjoy yourself now. You’ll probably feel different in the future anyway. Yeah, that was pretty much the key to my self-preservation.

Where do you find the strength to hold on like that? j-hope: From the group, it’s very clear what that is. It’s our fans. ARMY. We had to pull through, for the fans. At any time of any day, the fans come first. I keep thinking about how painful it would be for the fans if we just gloss over something or feel like giving up just because we’re having a hard time. I was 20 when we made our debut. I didn’t know much about having a social life, but the messages our fans sent were a big comfort and gave us hope. I learned a lot just by reading fan letters and understanding the kind of thoughts they had. Fans and artists really are one and the same.

That makes me think of a line from “Life Goes On”: “People say the world has changed but thankfully between you and me, nothing has changed.” j-hope: Yes, right. I thought that line expressed the feeling really well as soon as I first heard it. Yoongi wrote that. He is really good. (laughs) I think that describes our relationship with our fans.

Trans © Weverse

[187days]

Day Four

IT’S THE FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL! 

The wild rumpus has, in fact, started. Our students began the day in their advisories to do some icebreakers, get information about the new advisory program and other changes, ask questions, etc... There was a lot for me to say, but I think it was all well-received. Also, each class was called down to the auditorium for a class meeting. The seniors’ meeting ended on time, but the others took longer than expected, so that threw the day’s schedule off. But we adapted, which is a crucial skill in teaching, especially on the first day!

A cool thing: the way the transfer student in my advisory was welcomed by the others. I was really happy about that. 

Classes were short, so I kept them simple. In APGOV, I gave out textbooks, went over course information, and told students to take Pew Research’s Political Typology Quiz for homework and email me the result. In World, I had students to brainstorm examples of aspects of culture, and then I asked each of them to introduce themselves and tell me one thing they’d brainstormed. After that, I explained what I expect of them as we study various cultures around the world, and asked them to email me (either right then or tonight for homework) and tell me their expectations of me as their teacher and of themselves as students. I gave them guidelines for how to write a professional email, too, so it’s a bit of early practice doing that. 

At the end of the day, students went back to their advisories and then down to the gym for an assembly. Partially, we’re practicing because, due to Covid, so many of our students don’t really know how to, well, assemble. But, also, it gave the student body president an opportunity to welcome everyone and start hyping up Homecoming. So that was good.

I stayed after for a bit to make sure I’m ready to go tomorrow, but I didn’t have to stay too long. I’m definitely a bit tired, my feet aren’t used to dress shoes, and my voice isn’t used to the volume at which I have to speak, but that’s normal. I’d still say it was a good first day!

[sorryjustafangirl]

mascot mysteries

a/n: me posting something that isn’t at like midnight? wow. anyway i thought this was a super cute idea so i hope you all enjoy it :)  this is also a gender neutral reader! and this is a covid-free AU

Pairing: Nolan Patrick x reader

Word Count: 1.8k

warnings: a few couple words, a little bit of anxious movements, Gritty (if that needs to be a warning)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and real person fiction if you don’t like that, please don’t read! also the gif isn’t mine! all credit to the incredible gif-maker!

tagging: @barzypatty​

You walked into the Wells Fargo Center, admiring the arena. This was your dream job ever since college. Honestly you couldn’t believe you got it. You pull out your phone with the emailed instructions of where to go. You look for the “hallway next to the washroom” only to discover there are three different hallways that have signs directing to the washrooms. 

Well fuck. 

“Are you good there?” You look to your left to see two guys, likely players based on their attire. One was taller, with longer hair and a small smile. The other one was shorter but looked more rambunctious. It looked like there were in a little bit of a rush, but you were really lost. 

“I’m actually kind of lost. I’m looking for conference room B8? But the instructions I have are really vague, so I have, like, no idea where I’m going,” you admitted, folding into yourself a little bit.

“That’s on our way! Come with us, we’ll show you where it is,” the shorter one said, motioning you over to where the two of them had stopped. “So, you’ve never been here?”

“It’s actually my first day on the job, so, um no. I haven’t been here before either, I, uh, grew up in Canada,” You cursed yourself. This was your first impression with the organization and you couldn’t even make a conversation without the stammering.

“Cool! Me and Patty are from Canada too! Shit, sorry, I’m TK and that’s Patty,” He said, motioning to the taller guy beside him. “And don’t worry about getting lost, Pats here got lost on his first day too,”

“Good to know I’m not the only one whose bad with directions,” you directed your comment to Patty, making brief eye contact with him. A rosy blush brushed his cheeks and you caught a mumbled “yeah”

“What do you do….?” Patty prompted, his voice quiet, but somehow you still heard it. He couldn’t deny you were pretty. 

“Oh, sorry, I’m Y/N. And I’m in media? I don’t know my exact title, but working for one of the best marketed media teams was too good for me to, uh, turn down so…” You said, slightly talking in front of TK so you could answer Patty’s question.

“Oh cool! Maybe you’ll get to meet Gritty, he’s the fun residence troublemaker,” Travis popped in.

“I thought that was your job Teeks,” which earned a jab from TK into Patty, who just snickered. 

“Travis, bud!” The three of you stopped to see someone else motioning for TK, who jogged over to the other man. 

“C’mon, the conference room isn’t too much further, I’ll walk you there,” Patty said, already making some steps forward. After a small comfortable silence, he stopped in front of two double doors. “So, uh, this is it. Good luck on your first day,” 

“Oh! Thanks. And, um, thanks for showing me where it was,” You tugged down on your jacket. “I guess I’ll just….” you motioned behind you to the doors.

“Oh right, yeah, I’ll, uh, let you go,” You gave a small wave and turned towards the conference doors and he turned back to go where he came from, only to turn around after a few steps. “Hey Y/N?”

“Yeah?” You took a few steps back towards him.

“You’re in media, yeah? So you might be at games or maybe even practices?” He scratched the back of his neck, slightly mumbling towards the end.

“Uh, yeah maybe. I’m not too sure where they’ll put me just yet but I like being in the action. I know that might seem weird ‘cause I’m sorta shy and quiet but..” You wrung your hands together. 

“No, no, I get it. It’s like being a different person, when you’re behind the camera or something. You get to be someone else and it’s nice. I get like that on the ice sometimes. I can make the big hits and stuff and no one treats it like it’s different from being quiet outside the game,”

“Yeah, like a different person. That’s exactly it,” You met his eyes again. Holy shit, why is he so gorgeous?

“Y/N Y/L/N?” A head popped out from behind the conference room doors. “We’re ready for you,” 

“Great, thank you,” You turned back to Patty. “That’s, uh, that’s me, but I’ll hopefully see you around, Patty?” 

“I’d like that a lot. And uh, you can call me Nolan,” The blush came back to his cheeks but you could barely notice over the heat in your own cheeks. 

“Bye Nolan.” You gave him one last smile before entering the conference room and closing the door, slowing entering the room. Once you came into sight, the people around the table jumped up. 

“Ah! There they are! Our new Gritty!”

***

After that first encounter, you seemed to bump into Nolan more. Before work, sometimes after work. You would make casual conversation, both mumbling, but you just got each other. And it didn’t take too long for him to muster up the courage to ask you on a date. While you were slightly hesitant, he was quick to assure you that “I may have asked G to ask management if it’d be okay with our jobs and, uh, everything’s fine, so…?” which earned him a kiss on the cheek and a yes. 

The problem was your job. You loved being a mascot. Seriously, you did. You were hooked after that first varsity game you went to in college. The energy of the crowd, interacting with the players and fans, the anonymity. The anonymity was the issue. Behind the costume, no one knew it was shy ol’ you. You could do anything and no one would tell you that you were being too rowdy or obnoxious. No one expected anything out of you except fun. It was perfect. And being Philadelphia’s beloved mascot/political figure was the dream. Telling Nolan risked the anonymity of the job. But to not tell Nolan was becoming an issue. He understood you had to work during game days, but it was becoming increasingly difficult not to see you with the other better halves in the stands, especially since you worked here. There was no reason for you not to be there. Every other teammate of his got to see someone they loved in their jersey but he didn’t. 

When he brings this up, all timid, you are so quick to make a compromise. Before every home game, you’d meet in the tunnel for a good luck handshake. It might seem ridiculous but he got to physically see you before each game and it was a fun, quirky ritual. 

“It’s like a different person right? You get in your zone and I’ll get in mine,” You told him. He responded with a kiss. 

But you were running out of excuses why you were late either before your handshake or after his game, where you would also meet him in the tunnel. You had used the “I caught up with work” at least four times, “I saw a coworker who wanted to talk” a few times, and even resorted to “I got lost” once. You could see it was throwing him off a little. He was still playing perfectly fine, but it didn’t have that same “umph” he sometimes brought to the ice. 

It was the home game against the Penguins when he finally snapped. That’s how you knew it was bad. Gritty was asked to do the fun pre-show, and you hadn’t had time to change to see Nolan before the game. He threw more hits, had more aggression, and more than the normal Pennsylvania rivalry. You couldn’t help but think that part of it was because you didn’t show up before the game. He’d even gotten in a fight with Tanev early in the second period. 

So, during the intermission between the second and third, you asked your team to lead you down to the tunnel and grab Nolan out of the dressing room. The Flyers were up 3-0 so you didn’t think it’s be a huge issue with Coach. 

He quietly exited the room, confused on why he got pulled out. A member of your team just gestured to you in your costume, which did little to clear up his confusion. You held your hand up in a fist for a fist bump, the first move in your handshake. When he still gave that bewildered look, you softly grabbed his gloved hand and pushed it against yours. When you lifted your hand up for a high five, he still needed some prompting. But when the down low high five came, you started to see the gears in his head turning. He gave a small chuckle and slowly worked through your handshake, ending with a pinky promise and a kiss to your respective thumbs. When you’ve finished, he just gives you that small side smile and shakes his head, with a chuckle. 

You can hear the boys getting hyped up in the dressing room, and then the buzzer goes, so you break away from Nolan, but stay in the tunnel. As the boys single-file pass you, you give them each a boop on the head, with some extra love given to Nolan. 

That third period, Nolan seems to have his “umph” back. An assist and a goal, and he celebrated both by glancing up to you, celebrating as per usual with the fans, especially after his goal. 

After the game, you go and have your own shower, all sweaty after the 5-0 Pennsylvania battle. You took your time, knowing you’d have to have a semi-serious conversation with Nolan. But when you join him in the tunnel, he’s all smiles. He wraps you in a hug, spinning you around, before setting you on the ground and nuzzling into your neck. You run your fingers through his own freshly washed hair. The two of you stand there for a bit before he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. 

“Like another person, eh?” You smiled and tucked your head into his chest. 

“Oh shut up, I don’t even know if you’re allowed to know.” A hearty laugh escaped him.

“Secret’s safe with me, babe,” He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and kissed the top of your head as you started to make your way out of the arena. “Fuckin’ Gritty, I can’t believe it. I thought you were ignoring me,”

“I’m sorry, Nols. It’s just a lot to take in. Didn’t want to scare you off,”

“Well, I’m sticking around if that’s alright with you.” You looked up at him, and his cheeks started to redden, and not just from the game.

“Yeah. That’s alright with me,” You leaned into the crook of his shoulder, glad you didn’t have to hide any part of yourself from Nolan anymore. 

Bonus: “Did you ever actually punch a kid?”

“Oh my gosh, I’m not answering that,”

“It’s a valid question babe! I’m not going to stop you, I just wanna know,”

feel free to let me know what you think! thanks for reading

[royallyprincesslilly]

Title: Quarantine: A Love Story {16}**

Chris Evans x Reader Series

Warning: Cursing, Angst, Fluff, SMUT, NSFW, LOTS OF WORDS

Words: 8.6k

Note: Okay, so this is no longer a mini-series, we’re at a full-fledged series. Recommended listening toward the end of this chapter is Ocean Eyes by Billie Eilish. 

I hope you guys enjoy this. If you enjoyed this LIKE, COMMENT, REBLOG. Thank you for reading as always!!! ❤️❤️

***Loosely Edited/Proofread***

Previous Chapters:  Q1 |  Q2 |  Q3 |  Q4 |  Q5 |  Q6 |  Q7 |  Q8 |  Q9 | Q10 | Q11 | Q12 | Q13 | Q14 | Q15 | 

~~~~~~~~~~~

-Quarantine: Day 55-

  What was left to do, but leave? Yeah, there was a pandemic raging in the world right now, and everything including said world was going to shit, but that didn’t mean that you couldn’t go this thing alone. You were born alone, have lived pretty much alone, and had no problem going through this nightmare alone. You didn’t need to be here.  With the decision made, you wiped your tears, stood up, straightened your back, and walked to the bedroom with your head held high.

 Once in the room, you began packing what you’d unpacked mere weeks ago. You began calmly, keeping your jaw clenched so you wouldn’t shed any more tears. After you’d gotten one dresser emptied, you looked up into the mirror and saw nickel-sized marks across your skin. Slowly you followed the trail that began on your stomach and went along your ribs over one breast. The trail didn’t stop; it went along your collar you disappeared behind your quickly frizzing hair. Just like that, you remembered his lips on your skin. You remembered him kissing you, licking you, nibbling you, tasting your skin until you felt as if you would leap out of your skin.

 You flared your nose. It was always a mechanism you used to keep your tears at bay. It had been a long time since you had to use it. It felt as if you’d forgotten how because after almost a minute, you still felt close to tipping over the edge, and what was below you, was not something you wanted to be a part of. You gripped the edge of the furniture and squeezed.

 “Come on, come on, come on. Work!”

 You waited a few seconds, but still, the tears kept coming.

“Work, damn it!”

 Nothing. The sting in your eyes only intensified.

 “Fucking work!”

 Your shout was loud, and it boomed off the walls for several seconds. When the echo faded, your tears streamed down your cheeks.

 “Fuck,” you whispered, now using both your hands to hold onto the dresser. You took several deep breaths trying to practice the meditating breaths you learned. Groaning, you quickly realized that this wasn’t going to work either.

 You walked out of the bedroom toward the bar area and filled a glass with the first bottle you took up. You didn’t care what it was, and you also didn’t care that it wasn’t exactly after five. It was drinking time somewhere—right? You knocked back the entire glass and hissed as the burn took over. Your belly filled with the fire you knew would come, and you welcomed it. You hoped it would dull everything else you were feeling.

 You were so bent out of shape that you couldn’t even place any of your other feelings except anger. Your anger overshadowed everything. At the thought of your anger, you had thoughts about everything you’d felt over the last thirty-two hours.

 “You’re all I want to see, Y/N,”

 His voice echoed around you. It sounded like he was actually in the room with you. Bracing your hands on the bar, you closed your eyes and got sucked back into last night.

 You could feel everything again like it was happening right now. It felt like his body was pressed against yours, like his hands were on your breasts, like his mouth was between your legs.

 “Fuck!”

 You poured another glass full and gulped it down, but even the burn down your throat was not enough to dull the lingering pleasure you still felt. He was in you.

 “You look so fucking gorgeous with my dick in your mouth, Y/N.”

 You groaned, and you could actually feel his dick in your mouth. There had to be something wrong with you. No dick was this good, you thought. No dick could have you all fucked up like this.

 Biting your bottom lip, you sighed.

 “You’re perfect, so perfect. I don’t deserve you.”

 Squeezing your eyes shut, you tried to blot out his voice.

 “I’ve imagined this moment for so long.”

 You wanted to find him and kick him in the balls. A few weeks ago, you couldn’t imagine the thought of anything like what had happened in the last few hours ever happening. Now you were standing here with a drink in your hand, his voice in your head, and your desire for him writhing in you like an overriding virus.

 “This dick ain’t nothing to laugh at.”

 You slid the glass away and took the bottle up and brought it to your head instead. After two gulps, you felt it beginning to fade, felt him beginning to fade—almost.

 “As you wish.”

 His voice echoed this time, and with each echo, it faded until it was quiet, at least for a moment.

 “I have you. I will always have you.”

 Pushing through, you did your best to pull yourself together. When you got back to the bedroom, you finished packing, not wanting to waste any more time. The alcohol worked to slow your actions, but you were determined to get the hell out of there. The knock at the door startled you. You stood there as if you expected them to be able to hear you moving inside. The knock came again, then a voice.

 “Y/N?”

 You sighed, hearing Scott’s voice. The relief that flooded you quickly dissipated when you thought about telling him you were leaving. What reason would you give him? He knocked a third time, and that was when you grabbed your robe and wrapped yourself in it as you walked to the door.

 “Y/N!”

 When you opened it, Scott had his arms held open. “What the hell? Are you okay? You didn’t come to dinner last night or breakfast this morning. You’ve been MIA.”

 “I know. I wasn’t feeling well. I just wanted to lay low in case it was ya’ know.”

 “COVID? How would you have gotten it? You’re being paranoid,” Scott filled in.

 “Yeah, you’re right. I just wasn’t feeling well.”

 “You need some food. Come on, mom just put dinner out. I was sent to get you.”

 “Uh, no. Scott I just--,” you began before he cut you off.

 “No. No more excuses. You gotta eat. Let’s go.” He was walking away before you even responded.

 “No, Scott--.”

 “Let’s go now, or I’ll tell mom you’re refusing her cooking because you think her food is disgusting.”

 Your jaw dropped.

 “Really?”

 “Really. You know I’ll do it.” With that, he was gone.

 You dropped your head back and groaned before going back inside to get dressed. You knew he would do some bullshit like that. The last thing in the world you wanted was to hurt Lisa. You spent the next ten minutes putting yourself together enough both on the outside and the inside that no one would suspect anything. It was harder than it should have been.

By the time you got to the house and walked into the dining room, you saw everyone sitting around the table. They all lit up when they saw you. The closer you got, you forced yourself to smile until you saw him. Chris was sitting at the table with his fingers steepled under his chin and elbows on the table. His eyes were glued to you. Quickly you looked away and shrugged him off.

 “Are you all right? Scott said you haven’t been feeling well,” Lisa mentioned as she approached you with arms open.

 “Yeah. I’m sorry I didn’t mean to worry anyone.”

 “Oh honey, of course, we worry,” Lisa said in her motherly voice as she pressed the back of her hand to your forehead. The action made you smile.

 “You’re not warm. Maybe my lasagna will fix you right up. come.” She led you to your seat beside Scott and three seats away from Chris.

 “You look exhausted,” Carly said.

 “Yeah—I haven’t been getting much sleep,” you began as you took up your fork. Hearing how it could have been interpreted, you quickly fixed it. “Work! I mean, it’s because of work.”

 They nodded but looked as if they didn’t need the extra explanation. Sighing, you began to eat your food in silence. They spoke around you, but you didn’t listen, you were lost in your own thoughts as you tried to formulate a plan on how to best leave without causing a ruckus. You couldn’t leave in the middle of the night because that would have been wrong, and you needed someone to drive you back to Boston. When you thought of that, you let out a huff.

 “Y/N,” Shanna began. You looked to her friendly inquisitive face. “You okay?”

 Pasting a smile on, you nodded. “I’m good. I’m sorry, just thinking of my to-do list. Since this pandemic work has really picked up, you’d think it would slow down but nope.”

 You were good at thinking on your feet. It was a quality you had to have to succeed in your career and your life. Shanna nodded and went back to eating, as did you. You could feel Chris’s eyes on you, tempting you to look at him. Using all your will, you refused and kept your eyes planted downward to your plate. You wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.

 After an uncomfortable dinner, you sat through a few minutes of talk and calm all the while staying as far from Chris as possible. The funny thing to you was that with him staying away from you, no one was suspicious. He was carrying on as usual. Everyone else had remained the same. It was just you and him who had changed. You’d elevated, gone to a whole different plane of existence. That is what it felt like in that forest bubble--until it popped.

 You couldn’t get over what he’d said.

 “You’ve fucked a lot of guys!”

 Thinking about it again, you wanted to leap across the room and go wolverine on his ass. How dare he? When you looked over to him, you found his eyes planted right on you. They were beautiful, no doubt, but they were also the eyes of an asshole. You rolled yours, stood, and walked away toward the kitchen. Once inside, you walked around the island three times using the movement to get your rising anger under control.

 When the door opened, you turned to see Scott.

 “You’ve been weird all night. Talk to me.”

 You studied him trying to decide if you could tell him you’d had sex with his brother. You remembered what Chris had said that he’d made a promise to him. If you revealed it now you would start problems, problems you didn’t want to start.

 “I’m fine, Scott, tired but fine.”

 He studied you for a full minute before he nodded.

 “Okay. Go get some sleep; I’ll make an excuse for you.”

 “Really?”

 “Yeah. Go through the front.”

 You walked to him, gave him a quick hug, and did as he said. Before you walked out the door, you grabbed Scott’s car keys from the key hook on the wall that housed everyone’s keys. You’d convinced yourself he wouldn’t mind, and he’d understand. Once you were outside, you took a few deep breaths and moaned from the scent of the salty air. You were tempted to go for one last walk on the beach, but you had a feeling if you did that, you wouldn’t leave. Walking around the house the long way, you looked over the bank to the tall grass and beach down below. There was nothing quite like the beach at night. You stopped at the fork in your path. One way led to the beach and another night here with all that had happened, and the other led to the guesthouse where your bags were waiting. You must have stood there for ten minutes before you walked back to the guesthouse.

 Once inside, you gathered the rest of your things and waited until you knew everyone would be asleep. An hour passed with you sitting in the living room with your feet on the wooden coffee table, just staring at a lit candle. As the flame danced, your thoughts flitted from topic to topic. You began with going over every detail of the date, every word spoken, facial expression, body gesture, none of it escaped your focus now. Moving on, you went to every sensation, from scent, taste, and sound when both of you decided that you were going to cross that line. It wasn’t an unconscious choice. It was one both of you willingly made. Those thoughts brought you to everything leading up to you feeling him move inside of you. Again, not one detail missed you.

 You’d learned long ago that though something was unpleasant to think about, you had to acknowledge it in order to move on. You’d acknowledged everything that had made you the way you were and dealt with it. You’d found a way to use it as fuel, that was until last night. Something shifted; something changed your outlook; something made you feel.

 “It was him, you idiot!”

 You quickly sat up and groaned out, digging your hands in your hair. It was full-on puff now, long gone were your tame curls and coils. Thanks to your willingness to be carefree and adventurous, your hair was paying the price. You vowed to yourself that once you got back to your apartment, you’d treat yourself to a whole wash day routine. With that thought, you remembered his words.

 “I’m willing to learn.”

 You kissed your teeth and stood. You were tired of waiting. Taking up your bags and balancing them as well as you could, you opened the door and stopped in your tracks. There was Chris with his hand raised, ready to knock.

 “Son of a bitch!”

His eyes dropped to the bags in your hands, and he took a step to you. Quickly, you backed away, dropping a bag in the process. Chris took a step to you, and you took another back.

 “Y/N,” he began.

 “Shut the fuck up and get out. Go away.”

 He didn’t listen. He took another step inside the guesthouse. Even when you made every attempt to get away from him, he didn’t get the hint. Finally, you dropped your bags and walked as far from him as possible.

 “Y/N, let me explain, please.”

 “Explain? Fuck you!”

 Your shout was louder than it should have been. Realizing it, you clenched your jaws, trying to keep the rage from pouring over.

 “Y/N, please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. It slipped out,” Chris frantically said as he closed the space between you.

 Thanks to the wall behind you, you had nowhere to go. Pushing him back only sent him a few inches from you. It was enough of a distance for you to move out of the confined space you were in, but you weren’t quick enough that Chris wasn’t able to wrap his hand around your wrist to pull you back to him.

 “I’m sorry.”

 You did it before you thought it. Swinging your hand out, it connected with his cheek in a loud slap. He looked shocked, but he didn’t look angry. You wanted to make him angry so that he could feel some of yours. You slapped him again and again. On the fourth swing , Chris caught your wrist. The clench in his jaw was tight.

 “I deserve that,” he grumbled.

 “Why do you deserve it? Because you called me a fucking whore!?”

 “I didn’t mean to, I swear. I promise, Y/N.”

 You pulled away from him, roughly nearly losing your balance in the process. “Fuck you and your promises Chris! They mean shit—you mean shit.”

 “You don’t mean that. Come on. What more can I say to prove to you that I didn’t mean it?”

 “Nothing. I’m done. I’m leaving.”

 You hurried to your bags and began gathering them. Before you got half of them, Chris was on you, forcing you to drop them yet again.

 “Y/N, come on. You can’t leave. It’s not safe for you out there.”

 “I’d rather take my chances out there than in here with a man like you!”

 He looked hurt by that one, and you were glad for it. “Y/N, come on--,” he began.

 “Come on? Chris, there is nothing you could say to me.”

 You grabbed your bags again and threw open the door.

 “I can’t let you leave, Y/N. I can’t just let you walk out of here.”

 “Why?!”

 “Because of how I feel about you!”

 That had you freezing in your tracks. As the words sank in for you, you turned to him.

 “Jesus Christ, Y/N. I’m sorry for what I said. It was a stupid thing to say, one I didn’t even think about. I was angry, and I just said it. I didn’t mean it,” Chris blurted out, trying to keep his voice low.

 “Some part of you must mean it, some part of you must have felt this way. You must think I’m some whore who fucks every dick she comes across. That must be it right, Chris! I fuck everyone right, Andre, Marcus, Wayne, Charles, hell even you. Congratulations!”

 You made it past him and out to the pool, but he still didn’t give up. Chris got in front of you, but you didn’t stop.

 “Move!”

 “No. Come on, Y/N. You know you felt it last night. You know you felt it this morning and this afternoon. You felt it.”

 “I felt nothing!”

 “Bullshit! I was there. I was right there with you. I was on top of you staring in your eyes, and I saw it. I felt it when I was inside of you. You’re lying, and we both know it.”

 Ignoring the words coming from his mouth, you pushed past him and made your way around the house.

 “You’ve been inside of a lot of women. You probably don’t know what you feel anymore.”

 “Jeez, come on. Yes, I’ve slept with a lot of women, and I should never have even thought to say those words to you. That’s it though, I wasn’t thinking. I’m sorry, really, I am.”

 “You’re sorry. How many women have you said those words to? Two, ten, fifteen?”

 “None of them are important to me. You do, Y/N. You do.”

 “Bullshit! I’ve never mattered to you.”

 That was when he pulled you back to him. As you collided with his body, your bags fell to the floor again.

 “You’re the only person who has mattered to me in the last three years. You are the only woman that I care about that is not in my family! You, Y/N! I don’t understand how you can’t see it. How is it still this hard for you to get it? You matter to me, you always have mattered. I think about you all the time. I worry about you more than I worry about anyone else. I dream about you, and in my dream, it’s always you and me. I respect you so much, it’s incredible to think we’ve barely spoken in these years, but I know so much about you. I respect you so much, even though you’ve hated me all these years. Y/N, I value you. I’m sorry for how I behaved. I’m sorry that I said those words.” The emotion in his voice was clear to hear.

 You stood there, frozen. The look in his eyes said he meant them. His eyes said he felt them and was pleading with you to feel them too—hear them too. There was a war inside of you that was waging so fierce that you couldn’t think straight. Part of you wanted to still leave while the other part—a part that was growing in size wanted to stay with him.

 “Please stay, Y/N. Please. Let me make this right. Let me fix this. Let me prove to you that you matter to me, let me show you that this means everything to me.”

 Chris cupped your skull and pressed his forehead to yours. His skin was hot; you were sure it was always this hot.

 “Please—I don’t want to let you go—not again.”

 “Fuck,” you whispered.

 “Please.”

 You had no voice to respond; all you could do was nod. Chris released a loud sigh that told you he’d been drinking. He pressed his lips to your forehead, then pulled back. You watched him pick up your bags then look back to you. He was asking a question. Can I? Chris reached his hand to touch your cheek and slid his thumb across it. When he brought his hand away, you saw it was wet. You were crying.

 Chris took your hand and led you back along the path you’d just walked, back to the guesthouse you were so ready to leave. As Chris led you back around the pool, you stared at his hand entwined with yours and sighed. It felt right. You just hoped that by giving in to this “right” wouldn’t turn everything wrong.

 Once you reached the guesthouse, Chris placed your bags in the living room, turned to you, and cupped your cheeks. “Give me thirty minutes, and I’ll come right back for you. can you do that?”

 You studied his eyes, peering deeply into them, trying to read him thoroughly. You bit your bottom lip when you saw that you wouldn’t see anything different than what he wanted you to see. You knew he had secrets. You nodded, giving him his answer. Chris then kissed your forehead again and walked out of the guestroom, leaving you alone once again.

You don’t know how long you stood in the doorway, but you stood there all the same, just staring out into the darkness. When one of your legs fell asleep, you closed the door and walked to the couch. Once before the candle, you’d just blown out you lit it again, sat, and watched it. As you stared in the flame, you tried to stave off the feeling that you were being weak and ignore the thoughts that still told you to leave that you’d be better off.

 Everything from his past indicated that he would end up hurting you. He’d been one way with every woman in his life before. What was so different about you? Why would he be any different with you? Hell, he probably had the power to absolutely wreck you. Your mental freak out quickly took over making you jump to your feet.  After pacing the living room for what felt like seconds, you heard the knock at your door. You didn’t open it right away. You just stared at the door. He probably could have opened it himself, but he didn’t.

 Walking toward it, you stopped with your hand on the knob and took a few breaths. When you opened it, Chris was standing there patiently with one hand behind his back. The two of you stared at each other for several moments before he revealed his hand, showing you a bouquet of picked flowers. You scoffed and shook your head. His mother was going to kill him. You took the flowers that were completely different than the ones he’d given you the other night. While those were bright thanks to the yellow sunflowers, these were also bright but in a different way. The mix of red and white tulips complimented each other but also looked as if they didn’t belong together. Regardless, they were beautiful.

 Chris held his hand out to you and waited for you to decide to take it. When almost fifteen seconds passed before you took it, he didn’t sigh or huff and puff, he remained calm and accommodating. When you put your hand in his, you watched his fingers wrap around your hand. He then raised it to his lips and kissed it once then twice. Once his lips touched your hand, your skin tingled, and from there, it never stopped.

 Chris slowly led you out of the guesthouse and allowed you to close the door behind you before he continued to lead the way to wherever he was taking you. When he cut away from the house to the steps that led to the beach, you guessed what he had planned. He took his time leading you down the steps carefully to ensure your safety was paramount. When you stepped onto the sand, Chris looked back to you as if asking if he could or should keep going. When you didn’t object, he continued to walk you down the beach toward the shore.

Once there, you saw a fire lit path along the beach leading to the warm glow of a fire in the distance. It stopped you in your tracks.

 “You okay?”

 Were you okay? You knew if you went over there and saw what he’d done, you’d probably forgive the bullshit he said earlier. You didn’t know if you wanted to forgive him. You wanted to make him suffer for as long as possible. You were also curious about just how he thought he could make things right. Releasing a huff of breath, you nodded. Chris continued the walk down the shore toward his destination. When you reached the lit path, you just stared at the small flames that looked to be medium-sized tealight candles. It was beautiful.

 The closer you got, the more you could see, and the more you saw, the more the butterflies in your belly fluttered. When you’d stopped walking, you were standing in front of a large blanket with two cushioned pillows placed on them along with a large wooden butcher block trey. On the block was a decanter of amber looking liquid, a few containers that were covered, glasses, and a gift box. Across the blanket were scattered rose petals, and before the blanket was a hot roaring fire.

 “Sit down,” Chris advised. You kicked off your slippers and walked across the blanket to find a good spot.

 As you sat on the cushion, you looked up at Chris and watched him as he took his seat across from you. His shirt showed his St. Christopher medal between both his tattoos on his chest. The sight of those tattoos made you bite your bottom lip. You remembered touching that chest, feeling his skin, and the muscles as it danced underneath your hand. You remembered just what it felt like—what he looked like above you with that medal hanging down dangling in front of you.

 “You haven’t said a word since we were outside the house. What’re you thinking?”

 You took a deep breath as you toyed with the petals of the flowers you still held. “Your mother is going to kill you when she realizes these are gone, and you are the culprit.”

 Chris snorted and shrugged. “I’ll laugh in the face of danger.”

 You couldn’t help but laugh. He was an idiot. His mother would beat his ass red.

 “You’re such a liar, you know she’ll beat you down.”

 Chris nodded. “Yeah, maybe, but it would have been worth it.”

 Your eyes met and remained on each other. In the firelight, they looked darker but sexy nonetheless. The man didn’t even have to work for pussy, he probably just said shit like that. Scoffing, you put the flowers to the side.

 “They’re beautiful. I love them.”

 “I’m glad. Do you know the meaning of tulips?”

 “Do you?”

 “My mom made sure I knew. Sometimes I’d sit with her and plant in the garden when I was a kid. She’d tell me about every flower she planted. She’d tell me what they meant, how to care for them. It was a whole process,” Chris explained.

 “Oh yeah? What’d you learn?”

 Chris reached for the decanter, opened it, and poured the brown-tinted liquid into both glasses. Once they were half-filled, he held one out to you. Your fingers grazed as you took the glass from him, and they lingered together.

 “She told me that tulips were special. They were originally cultivated in the Ottoman Empire, which is now Turkey and brought to Holland. Even though everyone thinks that is where they are initially from. There once was a time when they were one of the most coveted flowers. It’s not hard to see. Mom told me that tulips usually symbolized the beginning of spring. They usually spout then and stay throughout and sometimes through summer.” 

Chris paused for a moment as if he were gathering his thoughts, then continued.

“Her words, It’s like a reminder of what spring symbolizes renewal, rebirth, peace, joy, and happiness. White tulips say I’m sorry. They are a symbol used to beg for forgiveness, a way to say I was a stupid asshole, and I deserve every minute of agony you want to make me feel, I was a jackass who made a huge mistake, a jackass who just showed you how much I don’t deserve a woman like you. They mean I respect you more than I’ve ever respected any woman I’ve been with it’s fucked up but true. The cream-colored one in there means something much more.”

 You gulped the liquid and hissed at the burn. He was saying all the right things.

 “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

 Staring in his eyes, you almost felt as if you were being hypnotized, or put under a spell. You knew he meant the words. Looking down at the glass, you cleared your throat.

 “What do the red ones mean?”

 You watched him as you took another gulp of the Whiskey. You liked the brown sugar undertones and the slightly smoky flavor that filled your mouth.

 “The red ones--,” Chris began before he emptied his glass and stared into the open fire.

 Instead of speaking, he reached for two thin long wooden skewers and handed you one. After you took it, he opened the containers on the wooden trey revealing jumbo marshmallows, graham crackers, Hershey's milk chocolate squares, cookies n’ mint chocolate, and recces peanut butter cups. Just like that, you knew where this was going.

 “S’mores still your favorite thing in the world?”

 You couldn’t hold back the smile that spread across your face. Not many people knew it, but they were. You looked at him and sucked your bottom lip into your mouth.

 “Of course they are,” Chris filled in as he brought the bowl with the marshmallows to you for you to pick one. You did and plopped it onto the end of your skewer. You were excited. You hadn’t made s’mores in forever, which meant you hadn’t had one in just as long.

 You shimmied closer to the fire and stuck your skewer into the flames and watched as the outside of the marshmallow began to change.

 “How do you know so much about me?”

 “I pay attention.”

 You watched his hand holding the skewer and followed the trail along his exposed skin to his bicep. That was where your eyes and train of thought stopped.

 “Why did you pay attention to me?”

 “How could I not? You’re eye-catching—impossible to miss. I paid attention because you mattered to me. You still do.”

 Again your eyes lingered, and suddenly, the respectable space between you felt like too much.

 “I didn’t mean to piss you off,” Chris finished.

 You looked into the fire and sighed. “You hurt me,” you whispered. You didn’t think it was audible, but when you saw him place his skewer down on the wooden table and move next to you sitting with his legs open, so you and the cushion you sat on were between them you knew he’d heard you loud and clear.

 “Y/N,” Chris began in such a soft voice you had no other choice but to look at him. When you did, he took your skewer and put it beside his. Then he led you down to the blanket to replicate the way he sat before you.

 “I never meant to hurt you. I never want to hurt you—not you.”

 “You did.”

 “I’m so sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am. I didn’t want to hurt you, and it tears me up that I did. I won’t do it again. I swear—I promise.”

 You looked down. You hated promises. People who made them always broke them. Chris brought your face back to his.

 “I mean it, Y/N. I've never been big on promises, hell I’ve never made a promise for the simple fact that I knew I’d break it and I never care enough to make an effort to keep them. I promise you right here, right now. I will never hurt you again.”

 Staring into his eyes, you looked for any hint of a lie, any hint of the bullshit he might have been spewing. After nearly a minute, you saw none. Was he telling the truth, you wondered. To lighten the mood, you changed the subject.

 “No matter how much you think you know about me, you don’t know this. I’ve only slept with six guys, not including you. six that’s it.”

 Chris nodded. “I don’t care; really, I don’t.”

 “Yes, you do. I don’t know why you do, but you do.”

 “I may have been living my life doing whatever I wanted while you were doing the same, but I wanted you the whole time. If it makes sense, I never allowed any of them to get to this level,” Chris confessed.

 “What level?”

 “The level where a connection could be felt. I’ve felt this connection since the day we met, and today it’s stronger than it has ever been. I’ve never wanted them the way I want you.”

 “My body,” you began.

 “—I don’t give a shit about your body. This has never been about me getting in your panties.”

 “Then what is it about Chris?

 “What is it about for you?”

 You hadn’t expected him to throw this back to you. Your shock was evident. You didn’t want to confess a damn thing to him.

 “You have to trust me, Y/N.”

 “I don’t have to trust you. I don’t have to do anything,” you blurted out. Chris nodded and looked down at the blanket.

 “You want to. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it when I touch you. I can see it every time we’re close like this. Y/N, you want to trust me. You can.”

 You searched his eyes. He was right. For some reason, you wanted to trust him. For some reason, a very, very small voice inside of you said you should.

 “I trust you, Y/N,” Chris said on a whisper as he brought his face closer to yours. He didn’t kiss you, just hovered his face close to yours.

 “That night, the next morning, this—none of this has ever been about sex for me. I could never do that to you. You deserve so much more than that.”

 Long moments passed, and the silence stretched. All the two of you did was gaze into each other’s eyes. Each of you searching for something in the other, each of you trying to find the courage to take the necessary step. Each of you trying to think of the right thing to say or do. Neither of you finding anything you were searching for. Neither of you being able to be the first to leap. You lowered your head and tried to slow your racing heart.

 “I forgive you.”

 “You do? Why?”

 You snorted and looked back up at him. “So, I shouldn’t?”

 “No, it’s just I know you, and nothing is easy with you.”

 Your smile spread across your face. “So this was easy? An hour ago, I was ready to drive off and leave your pale ass in the darkness like a nightlight,” you reminded. Chris smiled and shook his head.

 “Wow, you went there.”

 “I did. I said what I meant, and I meant what I said,” you teased. The smile on his face was an affectionate one. The warmness you felt was not because of the roaring fire before you. It was from something else, and he was the root of it.

 “I forgive you because I’ve known you for three years, and I know you can be a dick and say some asshole things. You’ve apologized and did all this—I believe you’re sorry.”

 “I am, really really sorry,” Chris added as he lifted your chin, so you were looking in his eyes again. “I mean it.”

 You searched his eyes again and tried to listen to the side of you that was the minority telling you to believe him and trust him. You nodded. The moment stretched with the two of you gazing into each other’s eyes as the fire danced. You did not miss the intimacy of the moment. When Chris slowly moved into you, you allowed him to press his lips to yours. He didn’t move to deepen it, though; he just kept your lips together. The proximity of his body, coupled with the intimacy and the atmosphere, had your heart racing.

 You opened your eyes and watched him. After a few seconds, Chris opened his eyes and stared into yours, and that only intensified the connection you felt between you. Chris deepened the kiss, and you quickly got lost in it before you pulled away.

 “Just so we’re clear, I’ve only slept with--,” you began before Chris put his finger over your lips, stopping your words.

 “I don’t need to know. it’s not important.”

 “Yes, you do, and it is. I’ve only slept with seven guys, including you. I’ve dated, yes, but most of them have never gotten that deep.”

 “I really wasn’t trying to insinuate that you slept around, Y/N. I know you like to party and have a good time and enjoy having men make asses out of themselves for your entertainment, but I never once thought you were sleeping around.”

 You didn’t know if you believe him, but you nodded.

 “I’m not a big of a man whore as you guys like to think,” Chris began. You gave him a “boy don’t even start” look to which he snorted.

 “I’m being serious. Yes, there have been a few, but I’m not in three digits.”

 You reared back, giving him a disgusted look.

 “Three digits Chris!” He laughed, slapping his hand across his chest. You were not in the mood.

 “Don’t play with me, Chris!”

 “Not three digits, I promise. Seventeen.”

 It was a higher number than yours, but it wasn’t as high as you’d expected. You thought he had no self-control, and everything with legs and brunette hair had gotten it.

 “Lower than you thought, huh.” You snorted and shook your head.

 “See, I’m not as bad as you, Scott, and the other like to make me out to be.”

 “Fine, Chris, you’re not a big of a man-whore as I thought. Happy?”

 He smiled and shrugged. “I’m appeased—minimally.”

 You laughed again, throwing your head back. When you brought it back, he was watching you.

 “I’d ask for a do-over if I had known this was possible.”

 He said it so low you almost missed it.

 “You mean that much to me, Y/N.”

 You pulled his head to yours and softly kissed him, focusing on everything the kiss made you feel—tenderness, warmth, fireworks. The man could kiss. Chris pulled away from you before it got out of hand.

 “Behave, I brought you here for this, not my body,” he teased before he took up the sticks.

 You sat there, holding your marshmallow into the fire in comfortable silence. Every now and then, Chris would nudge your shoulder with his only to have you nudge him right back, which had the two of you looking at each other to kiss some more before going back to your marshmallows.

After a few minutes, you’d burned ten marshmallows from neither of you being able to focus on the task at hand. When you both finally had one marshmallow roasted to perfection, you each made your s’more. Chris used the cookies n’ mint squares while you used the peanut butter and milk chocolate ones. When you bit into your s’more, you moaned when you found caramel in the mix too. For the next fifteen minutes or so, the two of you roasted marshmallows and made smores to your heart’s content. It was perfect.

 When the graham crackers were gone, things got messy with you roasting marshmallows to put chocolate chunks on top of the marshmallow to eat. It didn’t take long for Chris to smear marshmallow on your exposed shoulder, and it took him even less time to lick it off. That began the cycle of him putting melted marshmallow on your skin to lick and suck off while you dripped melting chocolate on him to return the favor.

 When the sweets and wine were finished, you laid cuddled on the blanket, watching the stars listening to the crack of the fire and the crash of the waves.

 “I want to stay here forever,” Chris whispered.

 “Forever?”

 He looked down at you as you met his eyes. You didn’t recognize the look on his face.

 “Forever,” he repeated.

 “Forever is a long time.”

 He didn’t look phased, or even like he would change his mind.

 “You promise?”

 It took some time, but you nodded your response. Chris rolled onto you and kissed you in the way that made you forget everything. Your hands found the hem of his shirt and raised it until you’d pulled it off of him. Your fingers danced across the muscles in his back until they’d reached his pants. Chris continued to kiss you as if he had a point to make, a point that you needed to understand. The urgency in his kiss increased, and that urgency sparked your own hidden one. Your desire unfurled in your belly and raced through you.

 Bringing your hands around to the buckle of his pants, you quickly undid them and pulled them lower on his hips. Chris didn’t seem as if he were in any hurry, though, so he remained hovered over you while kissing you dumb. Your eyes met, and every wall you’d built suddenly collapsed from just the look in his eyes.

 “I’m scared of you,” Chris whispered.

 He had to be kidding, you thought. He was scared of you? You had no idea what to say to that. Thankfully he didn’t seem as if he wanted you to respond.

 “I don’t want to hurt you, Y/N.” Chris pressed his forehead to yours and further nudged the war within you.

 You could feel his need pressing onto your core, and that was igniting a need within you that you weren’t sure you could contain. The slight shake you felt from his body screamed of how vulnerable he was at this moment. Your body wanted him, and for the first time, you faced the fact that your heart wanted the same thing.

 “Then don’t.”

 He kissed you once, twice, and third before backed away from you sitting on his haunches. You sat up and kissed him.

 “I always fuck up. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

You touched his cheek and caressed it.

 “I don’t want to lose—this,” Chris finished.

 You kissed him again only this time you let your feelings shine through. You allowed your fear, your desire, your attraction, your intrigue and something you worried was a lot more than affection. Chris moaned and held you closer to his body and kissed you back with just as much hunger and need as you kissed him. You lifted your shirt off and met his eyes again. Chris pulled his pants down, then stood to take them off. The reprieve gave you time to undo your shorts. Chris met you halfway and finished the rest. As he pulled them off of your legs, he kissed your shin before he pressed his body back to yours to claim your lips once more.

 Rolling on top of him, you straddled his body. Kissing him was easy, thanks to his sitting position. His hands spread across your back, making you feel small and delicate. When his lips dipped to your neck to nip and suck the skin there, you threw your head back. The action gave him new freedom to clap his lips around your nipple. As you hugged his head to your chest, you rocked against him, which sent Chris’s hands down to cup your thonged ass.

 After licking and teasing one nipple, he moved to the next to nibble and bite, giving you the best of both worlds—his tenderness and his aggressiveness. You dug your hands into his hair and pulled it, bringing his eyes to yours. He looked open and completely transparent.

 “Do you want me, Chris?”

 “All I want is you, Y/N.” He crashed his lips to yours and flipped you onto your back while he spread your arms out on the blanket while entwining his fingers with yours. You believed him, and you tried not to be scared of it.

 Chris moved his lips across your skin and down your body until he’d pulled off your underwear and buried his face between your legs with them draped over his shoulders. You loudly gasped out, angling your head back to gaze at the star-filled sky. The way he rolled his tongue and sucked your skin had you barreling toward your release. With the sound of the waves crashing with the warmth of the fire and the beauty of the stars over you, it was easy to press this to memory.

 In a matter of a few short minutes, you’d trapped Chris's head between your thighs as you came with him, not letting up, not even a little. You didn’t even realize it, but you’d screamed out before you could stop yourself.

 “Fuuuuck, Chris!”

 As if that was what he wanted to hear, he came up to you. When you attempted to kiss him, he jerked back, smirking. Every attempt you made, he slipped away with a smile that spoke of playfulness. On the fifth attempt, you wrapped your legs around his waist, holding him there so your lips could claim his. Both of you moaned and battled for control. Yours was a fake battle. You didn't mind not being in control right now.

 You rolled onto him and sat on his throbbing hardness as he groaned from the contact. His lips were glued to you once again as if he needed them for survival. Neither of you seemed in a hurry to move forward, you both just kissed and teased each other with licks, nibbles, caresses, and cuddles until you both nearly lost your minds. When the rocking of your hips became too much, Chris held your hips steadying you.

 “I don’t have a condom,” he whispered.

 Usually, those words would have been like a douse of ice-cold water and an automatic repellant. In this situation with him tonight, somehow, they weren’t.

 “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think about it putting one in my pocket. Tonight wasn’t supposed to get here. I’m--,” Chris rambled before you kissed him again.

 He did all of this on the beach and hadn’t expected sex. He did this from his heart for you. It was a sweet admission. Pressing your forehead to his, you tried to catch your breath. “It’s—okay.”

 Chris reared back to look into your eyes. He didn’t look confused; he looked cautious. “It’s okay?”

 That was when your nerves picked up. Was it?

 “Is it?”

 Chris opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. You began to worry that you’d said the wrong thing, and now he was freaked out. Why weren’t you freaked out? You literally just gave him permission to go raw. Did you? You couldn’t believe those words came out of your mouth when you’d been religious every single time.

 “It’s—okay with me,” Chris slowly said. He sounded shocked at the words he said.

 “Is it? Are you sure?”

 He pulled you closer as if you’d somehow drifted too far from him. “Me? Are you sure?”

 Staring into his ocean-like eyes, you nodded. You were sure.

 The two of you remained still for a few moments as if allowing the intent to marinate.

 “I’ve never--,” Chris began.

 “Me neither,” you quickly followed.

 His smile was so sweet you couldn’t help but smile with him.

 “I trust you,” Chris finished.

 You felt as if you should have said the words back, but still, something held you back from actually voicing what your head was clearly telling you that you felt. Instead of speaking, you nodded. He kissed you again and softly caressed your back. Everywhere he touched felt as if he left a trail of fire in his wake. The man was as intoxicating as the flames behind you. Getting lost in his kisses once again, you began rocking against him but only managed a few rolls before your arousal peaked.

 Raising onto your knees, you angled yourself over his need. His eyes bored into you, and it looked as if he were holding his breath. Slowly you slid down his length. Every inch had you shaking as he sank his fingertips into your skin.

 “Shit,” You whispered just before he filled you completely.

 For a few seconds, neither of you moved, you just allowed the sensations to wash over you and cement what you both just did. Chris peppered kisses across your collar as he held you close to him. It was Chris who moved your body against him, sending a jolt of pleasure through you. Both of you groaned loudly, and you were the one to move next. Slowly you rocked against him, gradually picking up your speed. Chris rolled his head back as he leaned to watch you move. He felt good, too good.

 You raised onto your knees and began bouncing on him.

 “Jesus Chris!” He held your hips and took over, slamming you down onto his cock.

 With every connection, you gasped louder and louder. Soon it was Chris controlling your movements, using your body to bring you both to completion. You knew you weren’t going to last long. When you gripped his shoulders, you stood on your tiptoes and took control back. That was when Chris’s moans became louder, and the intensity in his eyes picked up.

 “Yes, yes, yes! Oh god baby, I’m gonna come,” Chris warned.

 “Me too,” you whined. Chris planted his hands on the blanket and rose his hips up to meet you as you came down.

 “Oh, fuck!”

 You both only lasted four more strokes before you were coming together. Chris pulled you down with him back to the blanket to wrap you in his massive arms. Both of you rode the wave of your shared release, not caring if anyone walked onto the beach to catch you. The moment was too perfect to think about reality.

 After a full ten minutes, Chris was the one to roll onto you to smile down at you.

 “Are you okay?”

 You nodded before he kissed you. “Are you?”

 Chris shook his head. “I want you.”

 You snorted and shook your head. “Who knew you were so insatiable, Evans.”

 You could feel him hardening again inside you.

 “When it comes to you—damn right, I am.”

 Chris rocked into you, reawakening your desire for him. The man was going to be the death of you. Death by dick, it was a thing, it had to be.

 For the next few hours, the two of you did what two naked bodies did best. Position after position, the man kept going and going and going. You weren’t complaining; you were surprised. He was pushing forty and was able to serve up quality dick back to back to back. In your coital insanity bubble, the two of you thought it was a good idea to dip into the ocean, and that turned into ocean sex. You were checking off so many firsts with him in one night you didn’t know if there would be much else to do for the rest of this quarantine.

 The only reason you stopped when you saw the first hints of navy and grey in the sky was because the fire had died, and the air was nippy. You watched Chris gather the items in his full naked glory. The darkness still hid him from you for the most part, but the view was still the best view. You were delirious, so delirious that after he hid everything in the tall grasses to come back for later, he scooped you into his arms and carried you back to the guest house with the darkness as your cover.

 Once inside, the two of you took a shower together that was filled with lavender-scented bubbles, giggles, kisses, and cuddles. That was when Chris co-washed your hair for you taking his time to do it properly. By the time the two of you climbed into the bed, the sky was turning a beautiful shade of pink. 

You’d think it was sleep both of you did, but sleep was the farthest thing from either of your minds.

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***There are a few that are bold that I tried to tag but your @ wasn’t coming up. I’m not sure why. I’m sorry.***

[marcemello]

Anne’s Grief

tImerry christmas and happy frogidays! I was going to disappear for the rest of winter break but then I realized that I have NOTHING to do other than work, so I figured I’d do something that I enjoy at least.

 disclaimer, 1. I’m going to be talking about death and covid-19 in this, but not in depth (this isnt a vent, I’m just mentioning these things to support my point here) 2. amphibia’s helped me out a lot, so I AM going to be biased here. might as well just say it. 3. don’t expect me to add anything new to this conversation, this is just my perspective on things. 

I don’t see the argument that anne’s grief should be betrayed better a lot, but I have seen it. based on my own experiences, anne’s reaction to all the stuff that went down in true colors is pretty realistic and isn’t out of character for her at all. after reunion, we just saw a little about how anne wasn’t taking the events of toad tower well at all, but she clearly wasn’t going to talk about it. at the end of hopping mall anne let her guard down (about missing her mom, not about reunion) but didn’t even let herself cry for long. she’s been hiding her feelings for the whole show! it makes perfect sense to me that she’d continue to do so in season 3. the more canon-supported reason is that anne already feels like she’s a burden on the plantars during the road trip and her time in newtopia, so she wouldn’t want to bother her with her own feelings. it’s probably also just that those feelings are a lot to deal with, I mean your best friend betraying you and falling to her possible death after a tense swordfight is a lot for a kid to process, and so is being stuck in a whole nother DIMENSION from your family. jeez. 

so yeah. anne compartmentalizing is already canon and confirmed by an interview from matt as well. so her doing that with marcy isn’t that much of a stretch at all. everyone grieves differently! when I lost my grandfather, i didn’t see it for myself, but when I got the news I started laughing and asked my mom if she was joking. I didn’t cry until about a month later, and it wasn’t sobs, just tears. it was during quarantine so I wasn’t with my support system like anne was, but I think the connection is still there for me. sometime death/traumatic events don’t really settle in until some time’s passed. despite what people think of SU future, it’s still a good example in my opinion. it’s been a while since I’ve watched it, but I think at least 3 years passed since the events of change your mind? anyway, steven’s trauma didn’t kick in right after everything had happened, it took him some time to realize that what happened to him wasn’t okay. I just think it’s the same with anne. 

and yknow maybe anne won’t even get to go through the whole usual stages cause MARCY ISN’T EVEN DEAD. you could think of the whole marcy tank thing as marcy dying and being revived because of what andrias said about conquering death in yunan and olivia, or you could just go with marcy being on the brink of death and then getting healed (I’m going with the first one) either way marcy’s alive because of supernatural causes and anne should have no reason other than amphibia being a whole other dimension to think marcy’s just cool and alive. but I guess you could also think of it as anne just being connected with marcy (and sasha) cause of the gems, but I don’t know about that one because marcy and sasha don’t have their gem powers anymore. it’d be pretty funny if anne accepted marcy as dead and then BOOM she’s back actually and possessed by an ancient amphibian hivemind!

point is, anne’s reaction (or lack of one) to marcy’s death isn’t very out of place. her avoiding all mention of her until recently might be intentional, but who knows. 

this ended up longer than I wanted to be but it was fun writing this, also I might post again before new years but if I dont, happy 2022! the passage of time is imminent

[discrunkled-twog]

Bro how long it take u to rite a fanfic

I imagined this ask in a ten year old's "I'm supa gansta voice" and now I'm shaking-

Alrighty, I'm not sure if you meant this in a "why do you take so long" kinda way, or a "I'm genuinely curious" kinda way, or a "I want to write a fic but don't know how long it takes" kinda way, or even a "wow you write fast" kinda way.

Kinda scared now, but let's see. *laughs nervously*

Short answer? It depends on the length. 1 hour-16 days.

Now if you want a more extensive answer...

I'm going to start doing this that way when I type out a bunch of nonsense, you can at least chose to skip it. Y'know, like a YouTube ad.

So, for a oneshot, I've written one in only an hour, coming in at about 700 words. The first oneshot I ever wrote, and it sucks, but it's a relic.

Around the same time period, when I had been writing for literally about a week (Both fanfics and at all. I wasn't much of a writer before this.), I wrote a oneshot every day or two for a bit.

I would write about 700-2000 words a day, usually in the course of about 1-2 hours. Granted, this was waaaaaaaaaay back in the beginning, and my writing wasn't that far from the eight year olds on Wattpad who write.

I liked to think I did better than general Wattpad fanfiction, but now that I look back, it was either about the same, or a very very slight improvement. At least better than the TWO SAIKECHI FICS I read on Wattpad before discovering AO3.

Anyway, these being the low-quality, low-stress, and most of all, low-effort oneshots that they were, didn't take very long to write.

Now that I've improved, and write less often due to quality control (I hope) and burnout (ahhhh fun), it can take me up to a week of procrastination to write a oneshot.

Sometimes, if I'm lucky, (and have the time and convenience to lock myself in a storage closet in the dark to write) I can write anywhere from 700-1200 words in an hour. Probably my fastest.

Though unfortunately, this doesn't happen often.

Now that I have more school, since I'm in high school now and also am pretty behind on school, I have less time to do nonsense and write, so a lot of my time is spent doing nonsense.

I think at this point, I'm kinda just perpetually tired of writing. XD

I try to finish oneshots (once I get to writing them) in 1-3 days, which is decent I think, if they reach from 1000-5500 words.

Now full-length fics...

I've written four (or three, is you count that 3 chapter Tsukkiyama one I did), and the first two were Secret Hideout and Special Friends.

(They suck so so hard and there's the nostalgia there, but they are terrible oh my god-)

Both of those took me about a week to write, since the chapters were about 300-900 words in length. Surprisingly, they took the same amount of time to write and were about the same quality, though I hated writing Secret Hideout about halfway through.

Now, New Customers Are A Pain took all of 16 days, though I did skip a couple days, or didn't get the chapter written on time. Each chapter was about 900-1500 words though, so this one was considerably longer, ending at 19,015 words total. My longest fic, still.

The Christmas one I did was my record for word count, actually! It took me 9 days to write, and it ended at a little over 16,000 words! I'm still proud of myself, especially because I was somewhat delirious at that time, and sick with Covid. I genuinely don't know how I managed it when I was nearly falling asleep all day, but yay me!

Now the chapters of Memories are taking longer than I expected, both because of the fact that I didn't have the plot living in my head beforehand, and also because I'm writing it in between a whole lotta other stuff. I'm trying to keep up with posting oneshots, while also trying not to neglect my original work(s), which rarely get any attention these days.

Generally, I've been busier than usual, even now that Forget Me Not had finished, but yeah! That's about how long it takes.

Thanks for the ask!