#I just talk mean and need to filter my speech so i don't sound like an illiterate and cruel cunt. But i appreciate you all

[dark-side-blog3]

I'm a crass bastard, but I try to be kind. I hope my bitching and cussing doesn't make anyone think I don't like them on a personal level.

[criminal-sen]

Just saw a post by uhhh well I blocked them *I'm using them bc I didn't check pronouns, it's a 'I don't know this person' them* immediately. That not only tried to shame trans mascs for 'fetishizing' their own bits but then went on to talk about how mortified they are to have a 'boy pussy'. And i have some words:)

First off, ppl NEED to stop throwing around the word 'fetishizing' like it's some airy catch-all phrase for something that annoys them. To fetishize is specifically to dehumanize, to reduce a demographic down to sexual stereotypes (like saying asian women are cute and subservient or some shit). It is a gross and inappropriate way to treat ppl but now there's no fucking WORD for it cuz u guys use fetishize for EVERYTHING to the point where it has completely lost its meaning!!! Trans guys aren't fetishizing their own bits, they CAN'T fetishize their own bits bc those bits are attached to THEM, not to a different demographic they're talking down to!!! For crying out loud, just make a vent post about how it annoys you (or better, talk to a friend in privacy) and move on. Not everything has to be this big fucking callout

And secondly, I'm obviously not gonna tell someone how to feel about what's between their legs, there are times when I'm not thrilled about my 'boypussy' either, believe it or not. (And no, I'm also not thrilled about the term, but I am able to differentiate between something that annoys me and something that Needs To Stop Happening). I'm sorry u hate yr bits, I'm sorry u feel like a freak or whatever u said. But that doesn't give u the right to condemn yr fellow trans guys for trying to show some positivity. I mean, freedom of speech or whatever, I guess you have the 'right', it just makes you sound like an asshole. We're all out here trying to do our best with what we've got - maybe we're contemplating surgery, maybe surgery isn't an option, or maybe we're genuinely fine with it, everyone's different - and if saying we have a sexy boypussy helps some of us cope, good! Like jfc it's fine! So maybe filter the word so you don't see it, or even block every single guy who utters it, I don't think they'll mind (or even notice). And move on with your life. Okay that's all:/

[steviewashere]

Let's have a quick little conversation, Stranger Things fandom. This is a conversation for everybody, including those who create the amazing things we pass around our table of stories like bowls of mashed potatoes.

A lot of you guys are fucking mean. And I'm not talking regular mean. I'm talking a rotting, moldy, dilapidating, squelching sort of mean. I should know, I've given way too many speeches about this kind of shit. So, you're gonna listen good.

The new trend I'm seeing is bullying the bodacious babes within our community, and I won't fucking stand for it. I've had my fair share of bullying, both as the victim and as a bystander, and it's exhausting to have it spread into such a tight-knit space like this.

Let me reintroduce you to some wonderful technology on here, you hateful pieces of shit (no, I'm not talking about the people who are actually nice, but please continue to read this). (And, I'm not gonna be nice to people who are blowing up babe's Tumblr inboxes and anon messages and Twitter replies and AO3 comments. Or people sending death threats and threats of sexual violence. Because you don't deserve kindness. Not anymore.)

There's a "close tab" button located conveniently below your address bar. There's also a little bar on the side of your screen that lets you scroll all willy-nilly away from things you don't like. AND there's a "block" button! Oh, let's not forget the "mute tag" button! (Explosion sound effects here.) Isn't that crazy?! You can block anybody you want. You can scroll away. You can close out of a fic you're reading or a fanart you're viewing.

Isn't that wonderful? Because then, you don't ever have to see it again.

Fandom is a space for everybody, no matter what someone enjoys. Even if it's dead dove fics or unconventional kinks or relationship dynamics that may come off as "abusive" or "toxic".

If topics that are considered unsightly to you really bother the fuck outta your soul, then just ignore 'em. Ignore them. Leave them alone. Art, no matter the form, has always been made to make a statement; art is meant to be uncomfortable sometimes; art comforts those who may have gone through the same or similar experience.

Not everything is for you. That's what's so wonderful about tag filtering and muting tags and blocking users and content. That's what's so wonderful about the internet. You can get away from things that would otherwise be triggering for you.

You don't have to read everything. Or view everything. Or like everything.

Somebody else will like that piece of art, guaranteed.

And to artists, whether you're a writer or a painter or a scrapbooker or whatever you do that pleases your senses, continue to create. Continue to create because you do enjoy it, even if sometimes it seems that nobody does. Take breaks as needed. Walk away if you have to. That's alright. Taking care of yourself is so important and nobody is allowed to tell you otherwise. But at the end of the day, you are the poet and the artist and the muser. You are the creator.

The first person you should create for, because all fan work is self-indulgent on some level, is yourself. Always create for you. Create because it's something primal. Because it's an instinct.

Not everything is beautiful. But art can be beautiful. You make it beautiful. Your minds are beautiful. Everybody is gorgeous.

Fandom is like a museum, babes. Sometimes, the creator is going to be walking the same room as you, viewing their paintings sidelong. Keep your voices down, move on if you don't like the painting they made, and find something you do like. You're allowed to do that.

But by the gods, be thoughtful, be kind, and remember that the creator is always standing behind you in the art hall. And they're sharing their craft with you. And they don't have to. And sometimes they don't want to. But they do it anyway. Because it's important to create and tell their story and reflect on what is otherwise something shitty.

Telling stories is part of human nature. We've been doing it for centuries. It's in our blood. Don't be the reason somebody's blood turns cold or their pens fall dried or their mouths clink shut. Art is an objectively subjective form of culture, it changes from where you're going to where you've been and it's always changing and not every aspect is for you.

You do it for you, though. At the end of the day, your art should matter because it's an appendage of you. You're wonderful, you're beautiful, you're talented, and you're worthy of what you do. Because you're doing it. At the end of the day, you're doing it. That's something that matters.

But what matters most?

You do. You're the heart of everything you do. You're part of the thousands of arteries in the community we've built, you are the vessel carrying life in this community. And damnit, what a good job you do. You matter. At the end of the day, you will always matter.

Always. You will always matter.

[blubushie]

how do you deal with going nonverbal?

I'm not nonverbal, just semi-verbal. There's times I lose my ability to talk completely, but at the end of the day I still have the ability to talk just fine when I'm not having a Moment, so I don't use the term "nonverbal" or "nonspeaking" since (from what I've seen) that's usually reserved for people who don't have the ability to talk at all ever.

When I have a Moment my speech gets a little fucked up and I speak in short and simple sentences since it's hard to articulate my thoughts but I can still talk, and it's not distressing to do so. I'll talk until I'm either fully verbal and articulate again (this might take an hour or so, depending on whether or not it was caused by something or if it was just random), or until I'm too exhausted and just don't feel like speaking anymore (this is rarer than the former).

Intense situations (whether it be emotional or physical) fuck up my ability to talk, but sometimes it also just comes on randomly. It also happens when I get physically excited--whether it's arousal or just adrenaline doesn't make a difference. I lose my ability to talk coherently during a root and I lose my ability to talk coherently while wrestling a crocodile or handling venomous snakes.

I also lose my ability to talk the more tired I get. If you're in the Discord you might've noticed me speaking in shorter and shorter sentences the later into the night it gets, or me mentioning that I wake up early but don't really come online until about an hour after I wake up. That's because I can't articulate my thoughts until I'm really awake. Need my morning coffee first!

To get an idea of what it sounds like, here's some idea of how I sound when I'm having a Moment (taken from messages I exchanged with a mate while I was half-asleep):

Yeah. Distressing. Varies from people to people. To bushie. ... Bogans yes. Many. Logan worst. Bushmen no ... Logan. Brisbane suburb. Crime big. Heaps bogans. All cunts ... World was worse place two hundred years ago. So many good things. Civil rights. Medicine. More peace. Better than it was. Less suffering. If bushmen going extinct is product. So be it. Not only person in world ... Have had time. No point sulking. Helps no one ... It happens. C'est la vie. Or something. Don't speak French

As you can see I can still talk, my sentences are just short and simple. Filtered. I give very blunt answers. Lots of yesses, lots of no's. If I'm giving a single "Yes" or "No" as an answer ("Yes.") then that's your warning that I'm having probably having a Moment. That doesn't mean not to talk to me! I'm fine to talk when I'm like this! My sentence structure is just weird because it's difficult to articulate my thoughts. That's not the same as not wanting to talk. If I didn't want to talk I just wouldn't be talking.

It's less embarrassing online since people I interact with know it's a thing (or at least are aware that Something's Up when I get like this) but it's more embarrassing in person and especially if I'm being intimate with someone since I can't talk well enough to explain why I'm suddenly unable to talk, so I usually give them a warning beforehand. "My head gets cloudy sometimes when I do this. Sometimes I can't talk. I promise I'm fine. If I want to stop I'll pinch you." That usually works, but there's been I reckon two times where someone didn't want to continue after that because they were worried about me having a Moment and not being able to tell them to stop if I needed to. That sucks, but I understand it. I wouldn't want it on my conscience neither.

Mostly "dealing with it" is just calming down (if I'm worked up) and waiting for it to pass or, if it's because I'm tired, going to sleep or (fully waking up if I just woke up). Like I said, it's not distressing at all! Just a mite annoying at most!

[sunstranded]

INTJ: Tone

Words mean less and less these days. Is it because less and less people read and audio-visual content is easier to consume than a book? I don't know but I'm starting to get tired of my tone being the cause of misunderstandings.

I'm not one to be consistent with my tone. I can suddenly forget the social mask and word filter at times.

The few moments my grip of a social situation slips people that know me well enough either do not mind it or think I'm getting tired. However, those who know me less will start to forget about the meaning of the words I speak and start listening to their heads instead.

Not that I care to enlighten or explain myself to irrelevant people in real life. But it does get exhausting when someone starts getting emotional about it.

Imagine contributing to a conversation, and they think you're disagreeing with them as a person. No, I am just contributing to the conversation with my input. Offering a different opinion and different perspective does not mean yours is any less. There is not one star in the night sky. Before people start thinking I'm ENTP because of this, have an anecdote:

I was talking to this person and had said, "Buying things that do not serve me any purpose as a reward is not something I relate to." I said this after they went on to talk about buying another thing of the many things they already have. My principles do not allow me to be excessive for myself, I get only the amount I need and give extra to others. I don't even own a car. Public transport is bad, but willful ignorance is worse. I chose to not bring up my ethics because I did not want to make it about me or to leave an implication that I'm better or whatever, YET the conversation stirs. Suddenly the person started telling me that all they're doing is sharing their opinion. As am I. All I was doing was also sharing my opinion, it was just by chance that our opinions clash. Is that so bad? I don't even care enough to give a real shit about this small talk that's already killing me inside.

I do informal translation work and good God. Pragmatics and semantics have a lot more weight than grammar and syntax than people like to think. My brother, ESFJ, has mistaken me as someone to enforce correct grammar. I do not care enough about grammar to really enforce it. I only suggest words to better suit what they had wanted to say. However, despite this, tone still holds a lot more weight than careful and intentional word choice.

No one would give a flying rats ass when I pay a close and almost insane attention to what word is best suited for what I want to say. But suddenly, I'm the worst person ever because someone thought my way of asking using formal speech (I basically sound like this when I'm not thinking about social masking or word filters) was disrespectful Oh, I'm sorry. Was that too much intellectualism that the moment your critical thinking is under scrutiny, feelings are relevant again?

I'll save that intellectualism and critical thinking tangent for another post.

I am utterly certain this is such an INTJ problem. It's that pesky Fe everyone would praise and would always leave us confused.

[talistrongbackcommless]

Tumblr ∞, Nuance 0

I don't even want to tag or callout what I just read because the problem is so widespread, but it makes me feel like I'm losing my mind when I see people talk about "taboos" and things they aren't allowed to do anymore - when it's absolutely clear that they're literally doing that? And this probably sounds like a callout of folks using hate speech, but I really just mean like, people trying to make sense of the world around them by trying out various filters to understand the behavior of the people around them, especially people who have impacted them in a negative way. And I guess it's a little bit of a callout, but just as much for people banging the drum too hard as for people internalizing perfectly rational and well meaning discourse as a black-and-white "thou shalt not"

I hate that "don't call every abuser a narcissist," which is a good idea, and "don't assume every narcissist is an abuser," another great idea, has somehow been communicated as "don't you dare use these labels/diagnoses or the body of knowledge around them to help you understand the ways in which you have been mistreated."

Really, ultimately, my brain comes down to this: there is no binary, black/white, this is good and this is bad - it's always, every single gods-damned time, up to how you apply the tool/skill/behavior/knowledge. If it helps you to identify that your abuser fell into a recognizable pattern of behavior because that's how you unlock the "it wasn't my fault" brain path, that's awesome, and you should do it! If you want to use that identification against anyone in any way that threatens their personhood, that's when you need to fuck off.

I know this is me ranting into the void and probably isn't helpful to anyone, and I'm sorry if the examples I've chosen are too specific to hide what post I'm reacting to, but it isn't about that post - not really. It's just another example of me feeling like I'm losing my mind because someone is stating there are 'rules' or whatever by extrapolating a perfectly good guideline into a perfectly heinous example of how purity culture rots our brains

[woolieshubris]

Aquarium Date Fic !! Kagehina, but kag!asd. Kageyama pov. 2k words, oneshot. Tw : Sensory Overload! (it's present throughout the whole fic) Made partially for @spixi and partially so i could prove to myself that i can If there's a typo no there isnt <3 If you are an IRL this post doesn't exist <3

I typed out my message and pressed send, throwing my phone onto my bed.

Maybe I should go grab a snack or something... I think to myself, when I suddenly hear my phone buzzing against my pillow, and I dive to grab it. He replied to my message. That was fast.

Me : Hey we should go to the aquarium tomorrow.

Hinata : Okay :D sounds good 2 me!

Quickly, with my face quickly going beet red, I drop my phone and go to the kitchen to grab something to stuff my face with. I'm shaking, but as long as I walk quietly, I doubt my family will notice I'm even out of my room.

How should I reply? A thumbs up might be good, but it might be too cold. Any other reply is probably too much... Whatever. I'll go with the thumbs up.

I head back into my room and pick up my phone, typing a thumbs up emoji before covering my face again.

F/ck, I need to come up with something to wear, don't I..?

---

I arrive at the train station, feeling like I probably packed too much. I brought a backpack with an extra phone battery, 2 charging cables, (because Hinata has an apple phone,) and a bunch of snacks, as well as a water bottle.

Did I put on deodorant today??? I can't tell... If so, I'm probably already sweating through it. I start to feel sick to my stomach, but I don't have time to finish that thought when I spot Hinata walking in from a distance. He seems to be wearing basketball shorts and a t-shirt, and suddenly I feel overdressed in my jeans.

"Hey! Don't worry, I already bought my train ticket. You ready to go?" He asked while walking up to me. He didn't bring as much as a backpack, and I'm suddenly relieved that I brought so much.

"Yeah. It's coming in 2 minutes. I half expected you to be late." I stated, before realizing what I said. Sh/t! That was rude, wasn't it? I have to be nicer. Ugh. Hinata punctures my worries with a laugh.

"I'm not late that often, am I?" He states. This makes me feel a little worse about my comment.

"Hm. Just often enough." I state, carefully picking my words. I can't backtrack now, but I can try to redirect my speech to seem less biting.

"You only say I'm late because of last time!" He keeps laughing, keeping the mood light. I wish I could speak as easily as him.

"And possibly the time before that?" I reply. This is probably what he wants me to say.

"Shhhhh. What matters is I got here on time AND I have my ticket ready. Don't worry, I also brought enough for the aquarium ticket too!" He states, smiling. His smile is adorable, almost cute enough to distract me from what he just said.

"Oh, I was planning on paying for that." I reply without thinking.

"Ehh? Do you owe me or something? Should I be asking you for money?"

"No, no. I just thought...?" I'm really confused now. I was the one who asked HIM out, right? He knows how these things usually go, right? Maybe he just doesn't know...

"By the way, where are the others? I thought they would have arrived by now."

The... others? What others? The team??? This is a date, right? Wait...

I DIDN'T TELL HIM. I DIDN'T TELL HIM THAT THIS IS SUPPOSED TO BE A DATE. F/CK.

"I didn't invite them." I respond, my subconscious taking care of what my brain is trying to catch up to.

"You really find them that annoying? I know Tsukki and Yamaguchi can be a bit much sometimes but...?" Confusion flashes across Hinata's face.

"I just wanted to hang out with you. Is that a crime?" I answered before my brain could filter out that last comment. It would be useful in getting him to stop pushing, but it's far too rude for a date. Not that Hinata knows that last part anyway. I wish I could take my words back.

"You should be honored that I said yes in the first place." Hinata teases, my face turning red.

If only he knew what he said yes to.

---

Hinata and I managed to keep from fighting on the 30 minute train ride, which was a feat in and of itself.

I can't ruin this date.

"Hey, Kageyama? It looks like there is a student discount, and it also seems like there is a discount for groups. What do you think would be cheaper?" Hinata elbowed me, bringing me back into focus. I look up. He and I are both equally sh/t at math.

"Uh... Let's do the group discount? I'll pay for it. You can pay me back later." As if I'd let him do that. Hinata bought my excuse though.

"Okay! I can buy you lunch or something." He quickly walked up to the desk, and I followed him. "Can we have 2 tickets?"

Wait. Wasn't I supposed to buy them? If I was the one paying, aren't I supposed to ask? Is Hinata planning on paying???

"Oh, sorry, He'll be paying!" Hinata stated, gesturing towards me.

"Yes. Here's the cash." I quickly press down the bills that were almost getting damp from stress. I had already looked online at ticket prices, and made sure to set aside the perfect amount of money for two tickets in my pockets.

"Great! Let's head inside!" Hinata grabs the tickets, holding mine for me. We go up to the metal detector and I get my bag checked. Hinata, possibly because he has my ticket, or possibly out of kindness, waits for me.

"Can you hand me my ticket real quick?" I ask, throwing my bag back onto my shoulder.

"Sure, let's go in." We walk into the main lobby area, waiting to get our tickets checked. The aquarium is beautiful, and oh so huge. The high ceilings, and smell of saltwater, the giant whale sculpture that I can only assume is life size, and the concrete flooring, these things that on a glance are grand, start to give me a pit in my stomach.

"Kageyama! Come on!"

I look at the horizon line, and recenter myself. A quick yet deep breath and I'm ready to go. I walk up, and turn in my ticket in order to get a wristband.

"Kageyama?" Hinata states, causing me to look over at him. "Can you help me put this on? I can never do it by myself." He holds up the paper slip.

"Yeah, sure." I say without thinking. I wrap it around his wrist.

"Hey, make sure not to make it too tight. They are a pain to get off if you don't give them enough breathing room." I nod my head, and make sure to give him a gap.

"There you go." I let go of his arm, realizing just then how warm my hand is. I can feel my face getting warm too.

"Okay, let me do you now." He quickly fits the bracelet to my arm. "It's perfect! Let's go inside. I wanna see this penguin exhibit that I've been hearing so much about. I keep seeing ads for it and I've wanted to see it forever-"

Hinata kept talking. I don't think he ever stopped talking. It's nice though. It makes it easier to not focus on the huge building, or the shifting lighting, or the crowds, or the ambient music that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. Yup. I'm not focusing on any of that. Not. At. All.

My feet keep walking, despite my worrying. Hinata eventually slows, stopping before the largest piece of glass I've ever seen in my entire life. A giant tank filled with fish. The glass is taller than my house, longer than 3 busses, and blue and endless enough to make my heart stop in my chest.

F/ck.

Hinata turns around, and finds a bench to sit on, patting the seat next to him, while staring into the blue void. You feel like you have to bow down to its majesty. It is terrifyingly blue, terrifyingly enormous. I have never feared the ocean before, but I fear it in this very moment. A spotted whale shark swims past, paying no attention to the many people standing right against the glass.

"I could sit here forever." Hinata practically whispers. The giant tank orders your complete and utter silence. Even amongst a giant crowd, even with the littlest of children, everyone is quiet. The large speakers playing calming bass tones over the crowd of people, barely vibrating the floor.

"Hm. Me too." I reply. I could sit here forever, I feel like I already have sat here for infinity. Like its presence is something I could never escape. The pit in my stomach grows further. I break eye contact with the tank, reaching in my backpack. The zipper can barely be heard over the ambient noise of people shuffling. Was there always that sound? I bend down to look in my backpack. What was I going to get?

"Do you want a snack? I brought some granola bars." I state as I feel Hinata's eyes looking down at me.

"Actually, that sounds really good right now. I was just thinking about food." He states, bringing his head down to meet mine. I rustle around in my bag, and grab out a bar. It is barely bent. Passing it to him over my shoulder, he grabs it and unwraps it, sitting on the bench with his legs crossed.

"Sooo, what exhibit did you want to see?" He asks, taking a bite after.

"What do you mean?" I reply, choking down the pit in my stomach.

"Like... you invited me out here. So, what was it that you wanted to see?" He takes another bite.

"Uh. I just like fish, I guess." I look over at the tank, trying to avoid his gaze. I doubt he'll buy it, but it doesn't really matter.

"Me too! Let's go into the jellyfish room next? I can see the entrance to the penguins here and it looks packed. Explains why it's so much emptier here." He set his feet back on the ground and stood up, waiting for me to join him.

I leaned back down to zip up my bag, and we walked through a doorway into a smaller, darker room. Blacklights lit up the moon jellies as they calmly glided across the tank. Hinata seemed to drift off, but I didn't mind. It would probably be a good idea to be apart for a bit. I could calm down and collect myself quickly.

I walk up to the tiny seahorse exhibit, and look into the tank. I can't see them at all... I thought, when suddenly, I felt my forehead bump up against the glass.

How did I get close enough to bump up against it?

I go to look for a wall to lean up against. Leaning against something should help keep the pit down. I do a quick glance around the room. There are no walls. Only glass, and only fish. I hate fish.

Taking yet another deep and quick breath, I go back to meet up with Hinata. He was looking at a different kind of seahorse.

"Okay, I think I'm ready to go to the next section now." Hinata said, glancing away from the fish and over to the exit door. I nodded, and lightened up the scowl that was forming on my face. I didn't even notice it was happening until I felt my eyebrows aching from the effort. I just hope he didn’t notice.

The exit of the jellyfish room led to a balcony overlooking a lower floor. This must be the back of the aquarium. Below us there seemed to be a small cafe overlooking the sea.

"Here, let's go get some food! I can pay you back for the ticket that way." Hinata pulled my arm over to the down escalator. I step on right after him, and look down at the cafe.

It was very large, and honestly reminded me more of a cafeteria than a cafe, with lots of seating. After we reach the end of the escalator, he walked over to stand in line and stare at the menu. Looking for a good seat, I grab one right by the large window facing the water and set down my bag. I pull out the small amounts of snacks I've already brought to claim the seat and go over to Hinata.

"Hey, so I'm thinking about getting a sandwich. What do you want?" He stood, facing the menu.

"Honestly, just get me whatever you think I'd like." I state. I can't focus on the menu right now; I just don't have the energy to.

"Hmmm... Okay!" Hinata walks up to the register, while I go back to our seats. I'll probably regret that choice very soon, but I have backup food anyways, and I'm sure he'll eat whatever I don't, so it's not like the food will be wasted.

---

What the hell did he order??

I look at my plate, not quite understanding what the dish is even supposed to be.

"You said to get you whatever." He said with a smile, taking a bite of his sandwich right after.

"Whatever I might LIKE. What even is this?" I poked my dish with a spork, and it seemed to swallow it whole.

"No idea. I just pointed at the dish in the buffet." He shrugged. "I thought it might be funny, but it's less funny than I hoped. I expected more of a reaction." He looked up with the last sentence, making eye contact with me, which I broke a moment after.

"Sorry."

"Sorry? What are you saying sorry for? Since when did you say sorry anyways?" There was slight worry behind his voice, though it was hard to tell through his wide grin. To avoid answering, I quickly shove the food in my face. It's not great, but it's not really all that bad either. It's a little cold from sitting out.

"It's.... good." I say with a stuffed face. This causes him to start laughing again.

"You look super angry! That's the sort of reaction I was expecting." When did I even start scowling again? When I took a bite of the food, probably.

"You try it." I say, stealing a chip from his bag.

"I was the one who bought it anyway. I was half expecting you to make me eat it." Am I really that predictable? He took a bite, and made a variety of expressions, before settling on confusion.

"I wouldn't call it good. Maybe okay? It's definitely at least okay." He nodded to himself, taking a sip of water after.

"So, where to after this?" I ask.

---

We ended up on the train home while the sun was setting. It's almost to our stop. It felt so short, but we ended up hanging out for 5 hours. I almost forgot that I wanted it to be a date. I had to give up on that a while ago.

"Hey, we have to get off soon, get ready." I say, tapping his knee.

"Hm? Oh." He wakes up, blinking a few times and leaning forwards in his seat. He glances out the window.

The train stops, and we walk off onto the station platform.

"See you at practice tomorrow!" He says with a large smile, walking backwards towards the exit.

"See you." I reply, gripping the shoulder straps of my bag. I looked down

"I had a nice time on our date!" and with the last word, he turned around, running out of the station.

My head immediately turned upwards to where he was, as I feel my blood starting to rush to my face.

He... HE KNEW?!?

[nightswithkookmin]

JIKOOK: ARE CONGRATULATIONS IN ORDER?

Disclaimer:

Everything expressed in here is my opinion. It is not intended to be malicious or disrespectful to any of the parties mentioned in here. Please do not hate on or send hate anyone mentioned in her expressly or by inference.

In my previous posts, I pointed out how this past year, from August 2019 to June 2020 has been a rollercoaster ride for Jikook. Their relationship has been all over the place with some even concluding they have broken up for good- you wish!

My inbox has been flooded with questions such as: Are they still broken up, are they good, are they married...

Y'all think I'd be here blogging at 1 AM for Tumblr if Jikook were married married?- Ok, I would. Lol

But No, Sis. Jikook aren't married. Not that I know of. But don't be sad though because THEY ARE BACK! Fully back to function. By that I mean Jimin mostly. Jk never left. Lol- I'll explain in a bit. But yes, I'm happy to report that they are Jikooking again!

I refrained from posting about their new moments especially this July moments because even though they've been back together after a long period of on and off again relationship during ON comeback through to festa season, and then May when JM finally asked for space in their relationship(see previous posts for details)

I've being unsure about Jimin. I've been anxious to know what the outcome of his asking for space to think things through would be.

Jikook have a push and pull relationship dynamic. We been known. Mostly when one steps back from their relationship for whatever reason, the other leans in to pull them back in.

Same thing has been happening from January where Jimin would be pulling one minute, the next he would be like meh and JK would be push to pull him back in.

That was the case in this (June-July) Japan comeback interviews. Jk was front center with expressing interest in JM pulling him whereas JM was like meh, I'm down for this baby but let's keep it professional for the group's sakes.

Just look at them here... (Photo of them at 2020 Japan interview where Jk said he was looking at JM)

See what I mean? Now you may not notice at first but look at JM's demeanor and compare it to moments in past interviews whenever JK is talking about him or their relationship.

Jk was on his flirting game which he usually is when he wants to break the ice with Jimin if there's been tension between them or when someone around is making a pass at JM and he wants them to know what's up- he ain't slick. Lol

At times too he takes the initiative to flirt when he is feeling super confident and cocky and hella bold and just wants to. Trust me, when he flirts with Jimin, IT IS NOT FOR FANSERVICE. He means that shit.

Now compare JM's body language in that Japan interview moment this one right here: (photo of JM and Jk at the interview where JK said from now on together)

Jimin usually acts very coy, giddy and whipped even around JK when JK flirts with him but most importantly he seems to egg JK on in such moments. He enjoys being claimed openly by JK just as much as JK loves being claimed by JM publicly- which is why as nervous as that makes him he keeps going back for more.

Now this is gonna sound controversial but I have seen JM tell Suga off at times when Suga has tried to initiate skinship with him. I won't show you the picture but you can watch it for yourself during the On Come back where they wore Purple and black. It happened right at the moment Suga touched JMs back. JM mouthed 'Hajima' to Suga to stop touching him. That's all I'm gonna say y'all. Lmho. Don't want trouble.

My point is, these boys have a filter. If they don't want something done to them they won't hesitate to say it or show it. Much like when JK pushed Tae's hand away during a VLive- and he's pushed JM off sometimes too. He is assertive more so than all the members. If he doesn't want something he won't do it or allowed it.

Suga asked him not to get the tattoos when he first expressed interest in them way back in American Hustle life. But he told them if army loves him they would love everything he does and not try to limit him. Jk does as JK pleases.

So yea, if JK didn't like what Jimin has been doing with him he wouldn't be around him much less reciprocate those feelings and actions and initiating them on his own at times. Their interactions are MUTUAL.

And yes, that was shade.

Jimin understands the guts it takes JK to take such initiatives with him and so he kinds of encourages Jk to go on with it or acts in a way that boosts JK's ego. Like when JK shouted 'arrest me' in the middle of an interview. Jk... SMH.

So it was a bit unsettling to watch JM not even try to flirt back with JK in moments like this like he usually would. Dude wasn't even initiating their shtick during this period first of all nor was he responding to them in a way he usually would.

Not sure the aesthetics he was going for here but it screamed let's keep this professional on camera and get naughty when we get home. Or much like, dude I asked for space and I'm realizing I like you just as much but stop coming on too strong.

Which frankly, is what the members have been asking them to do since October last year when the hashtag to cancel Jikook in S.K trended. So JM wouldn't be wrong to take such a stand....

Given that the crux of their issue has been that Jikook is developing into a brand almost independent of BTS' brand and this in a way is affecting the dynamics of the group, a little discretion wouldn't hurt.

The cheers for Jikook moments are getting louder and louder each year even at events such as awards and not just on stage. Jikook is taking a lifeform of it's own. Its becoming a brand almost as powerful as BTS' brand. They are a power couple or becoming one. Like or not. Their fans are becoming loud and large too. So often, lately, it seems they tend to steal the show and direct attention away from the band. It's crazy.

Tae literally had the floor, delivering his speech at the MMA 2019 but people weren't even paying attention to that at all. They were more interested in Jikook and whatever they were doing and they went nuts the moment JK held Jimin and even wilder when he placed his head on Jimin which is what lead to infamous standoff with RM.

JM had literally bumped his butt against Hobi's crotch region moments before the Jikook moment but the crowd didn't lose it as much. Please go back and listen to the deafening sounds of the crowd for yourself.

As much as we love Jikook, there are some that don't and they can be very loud. I'll leave it there. Please support Jikook. Thank you.

BTS had a whole concert end of October 2019 and the hashtag that trended was 'cancel Jikook.' That took away from the hardwork of the band and reduced it to a few seconds of two boys fanboying over eachother. That's.... sigh.

When you see it this way, the RM separating them at Jingle bell red carpet, on stage or even BigHit trying to regulate their Vlives make sense.

Moving on. So yea I wasn't sure about JM all this past few months especially as I believe he had asked for space in their relationship. You might not think much of it but given as JM had said in the past how if he had a lover he would want to be with them all the time and Jikook do spend a lot of time around each other but suddenly hear them talk about spending time apart and enjoying it and what not....

But I think I can stop worrying now because HE IS BACK! There is a new Jimin in town and he is taking names! Good for him!

And I don't mean his new hairdo this August. I mean the new attitude. This attitude:

In this interview he says he would take JK to an island which smart decision. I would take JK too cos dude can do anything, cant he?! Bless him.

But thats beside the point. What I think is happening here is, Jimin finally took a stand. He made up his mind and he is not getting pushed around anymore. Because this Jimin hasn't showed up in a while now. Now he seems quite defiant most times if you've been paying attention to him, so rebellious, so sure of himself. Good for him. Spending time to himself has done him some good. It's given him room to reflect and sort out his priorities.

He loves his work, his band and he loves JK and it's hard when all of those start rubbing against eachother. But Fuck professionalism. He is in love with JK and that is professionalism too. Add loving JK till the end of time to his profession bishes!! :p

Sorry. I got carried away.

But seriously, he seems like his old self but it's also a new self because he hasn't been that self for a hot minute. This is JK's sweat tastes like holy water Jimin. This is I promised Jk I will go to the moon with him Jimin, this is I wanna go on a trip alone with JK Jimin- but badder. If you are a hardcore JM stand like I am you'd understand what I'm talking about.

HE IS BACK BABY! Our daddy is back!

The point of this post is to say, I believe JM finally figured out what he wants. So now hopefully the up and down should die down because quite frankly it's hard to keep up with those two I swear! We need a smooth sail Jikook. Make it happen!

I love it. I love where this is going and I can't wait to see more of their interactions so cheers to Jikookers and congratulations to Jimin for putting his shit together. We wanted rain. We about to be hit with a tsunami of Jikook moments.

Stay blessed. Stay beautiful. Jikook forever.

Signed,

Goldy

[galadrieljones]

alright, this is not an ask as such? Just rambling? I realized I am wary of writing long dialogue? If its more than 3 sentences I feel the other person should have their say? I was reading a book -which is not particular great, btw, but the dialogue flows well enough and sometimes the characters tend to speak a lot, to explain things or even argue. And I realized I would never write so many sentences? I don't know why I'm afraid of it?

Hey friend! I think dialogue is really one of the hardest things to write, to learn to improve, and just to be confident in, because there’s so much that goes into every single exchange. For some reason, people think it should be the easiest thing to write, but that’s just way off. It’s just so easy to write too much (a far more common problem) in a scene, and so I’d start by saying if your tendency is toward economy, that’s actually a good thing?

As someone who is prone to writing drawn-out conversations with a lot of monologuing (and who’s had to learn a lot of editing techniques over the years lol), I think part of that probably comes from the fact that I just used to watch a lot of movies and TV shows written by well-known ���talkie” writers and I just sort of got a feel for it, like for what people sound like when they talk, and what they sound like when they talk for a while. I used to watch all those Richard Linklater movies (Before Sunrise, After Sunset, etc.) and also a lot of Woody Allen movies, Aaron Sorkin TV, and Gilmore Girls. I also used to be way into Kevin Smith, and all of his characters are extremely chatty, and he would write and direct scenes that were just like long, unfolding, pointless conversations about like, nothing, but they were always interesting to me. 

I think theater is a good place to turn when you’re wanting to find new ways of writing dialogue. Playwrights seem to thrive on monologues, and I remember there are a couple from like, A Chorus Line that sort of killed me and changed the way I view dialogue and monologues and how it can be such a compelling avenue to emotional outpouring and reveal. I think dialogue is often taken for granted or left as “utilitarian,” but it is an art form in and of itself. It is an opportunity to build character, create atmosphere, set up entire plot points, and also just experiment with the many different ways that people interact with each other and communicate their feelings/desires/fears/etc. It’s a good time to remember that dialogue in fiction need not be realistic to be good.

Solas is actually a really good character, I think, for practicing writing longer speeches and expanded dialogue. He’s very loquacious once you get him going, and he likes to tell stories. An exercise I used to sometimes give my writing students is to have two people in a conversation, and one of them tells the other a story. I do this all the time in my writing, because it just always feels like such a good opportunity to build themes and character. When characters talk for a long time, you want them to obviously have something to say. Telling a story is an obvious route for that. Extended dialogue that ONLY advances the plot or sets up exposition and background information tends to be really boring and stiff. It’s common in the science fiction genre, which is part of why I don’t really like the science fiction genre that much. 

Also, not all characters talk a lot. It’s just the truth. For example, Arthur Morgan is one of those characters, and so he’s not going to go on and on very often, but when he does, you know he really means it. You know something big is happening. That said, a character like Solas might find very longwinded and round-about ways to say simple things, and he might use more economy during moments of anger or frustration. So, you see, dialogue and how long it lasts can be a very useful tool for characterizing the emotional range of a character and the tone of a scene.

As with anything, if it’s something you want to try out, I’d say just go for it. Try the storytelling exercise if you want, and see what happens? It’s definitely an interesting thing to try. In the meantime though, do remember that ECONOMY with writing and dialogue is much more difficult to learn and also much more valuable, I think, on the whole. If you tend toward the economical, but you want to write some bigger, more expansive scenes in which characters really spill their guts, it’s just a matter of turning off your filter, and trying to hear the voices in your head very clearly as you write. Watch an episode of Gilmore Girls, or watch Before Sunrise. I think that film can actually be helpful for writing dialogue in terms of just trying to hear what people sound like when they talk for extended periods of time. Writing can be just as aural sometimes as it is anything else.

Anyway, as usual, sorry for rambling lol. I definitely have the opposite problem!! (*^_^*)

Ask Me Anything!

[cuteandtwisted]

Hey Wiss!! I love you and your writing so much and wanted you say that today is my birthday!(I waited a whole year to say this lol) But if its not too much to ask, is there any update of Bfyt? Like a little snippet or when the next update will be? Don't want to rush you but today would be amazing to have a little something from my favorite writer💛💛

(Hi LOVE Happy belated birthday💛. I’m sorry for missing this!! Here’s a ~ 2K BFYT snippet for you

In which Even casually makes Isak squeak 💛)

“So we’ll meet at my place because it’s closer to the commotion, then we’ll walk to Spektrum. We could take the tram but I’m sure there will be some closures and I don’t feel like running into human unicorns. And no, before you even try to suggest it, we are not going to Grønland. I would rather poke my eyes out than go through Grønland right now. Also, Eskild’s group is marching, or I should say dancing, with the first batch, so we can just catch him when they round that weird church. It’s not like we need to follow him the entire time, you know? He just needs me to be there to validate his fairy godmother status and to write “I forced my foster child Isak Valtersen into going to Pride” on an Instagram caption. I just know he’ll do it. He’s been constantly taking photographs of me. I think I should start to feel worried actually. Also, what a weird concept Pride is. Don’t you think the ones who insist on showing pride are those who are most prone to shame? Similarly to those who constantly boast about their possessions because they’re emptiest inside, to those who post the most on social media because they’re the loneliest at heart? Insisting on showing off one’s supposed greatness is a concept I will never-,” Isak pauses his rambling, suddenly aware that his speech has increased in speed and incoherence and that his voice is the only thing filling the sweet midsummer air in the cafe.

Even is sitting across from him, head propped atop his folded arms on the table before him, a wild golden mop of hair covering his face. He isn’t moving and Isak realizes that Even dozed off during his frenzied speech. He’s almost relieved, too embarrassed by how nervous he actually is.

Isak stares for a bit. Even has been all over him lately, talking too much, smiling too much, laughing too much, taking too much. Isak couldn’t do much but look away and hold it in. He hasn’t had a chance to just look in a while–for every time he does, he remembers Even’s ridiculous words from last week– So he looks.

Isak doesn’t really know what to call the feeling that overwhelms him watching Even with his eyes closed and a half-smile curling his lips. Isak doesn’t think he’s ever smiled in a dream. How is it so easy for Even? How does Even look so peaceful sleeping? So at ease, so… pretty.

Time stills enough for little specks of dust to hang suspended in a narrow beam of sunlight filtering through the glass windows. And for a moment, Isak questions the source of light: the sun is hot and unyielding today, but for some reason, a sleeping Even shines brighter.

No!

Isak catches himself mid-nonsense and blinks away the ridiculous thoughts. He sits up straight, kicks Even’s chair ever so slightly, then speaks again.

“Are you sleeping? Really, Even?” Isak scoffs, and his voice is almost shaky. It’s pathetic. He swallows and continues. “You pick logistics debrief to finally sleep? You haven’t let me sleep in days and now you want to sleep?”

Isak is beyond nervous. He’s self-aware enough to know and to admit to himself that he’s nervous. But he tells himself that it’s because of what he’s actually doing, not because Even is sitting across from him. And it’s true. Isak doesn’t plan routes for navigating the Oslo Pride Parade every day. The thought alone is filling him with an extreme urge to flee and lock himself in his room for at least a month. But he can’t. Not this year.

This year he has Eskild to think about and Even to drag to Pride. This year is not about him. Having a mission keeps him focused. He’s going because Eskild emotionally blackmailed him and because Mutta asked him to bring Even without telling him. He’s on a mission. He’ll be fine. He’s fine.

Isak is about to kick the chair again when Even speaks.

“Not sleeping,” he mumbles, his voice groggy but soft. There’s a smile there, too. His whole voice is smiling. Isak tunes him out.

“Uhm, not to be maddening, but last time I checked, closing your eyes and suspending your consciousness is called sleeping, Even.”

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. My consciousness is all but suspended,” Even chuckles, his face finally turning to blind Isak. His eyes are crinkling and it’s all very nerve-wracking. Isak can’t think.

“Oh, so did your eyes just happen to close themselves while I was relaying some very important information to you or?”

“I closed my eyes because I wanted to hear you, like really hear you,” says Even, his chin awkwardly laying on his folded arms now. His eyes are sparkling with something akin to happiness or euphoria, like simply sitting in a cafe with Isak and listening to him complain about exactly everything is filling him with joy.

“Are you saying my speech is too contrived or are you saying that you need a hearing device?” Isak huffs again, because he can’t really hide his nervousness unless he’s being insufferable.

“I’m saying that I love listening to you speak the most, and that when I close my eyes I feel like your words penetrate me even deeper.”

Isak is grateful that he didn’t decide to take a sip from his coffee because it would probably be all over Even’s hair by now. He chokes on air instead while Even laughs.

“Jesus Christ!” He coughs while Even’s warm laughter fills his bones.

“You have such a dirty mind, Valtersen.”

“Dirty mind?! I am simply appalled by your choice of words because they make absolutely no sense. My words penetrate you deeper? Which books do you even read? I can’t deal with you!”

“I’m just telling you how I feel,” Even replies with no hint of humor or teasing in his voice. He’s smiling but it looks like it’s out of sincerity, not mischief. “I love hearing you talk. I could listen to you all day. It’s just how I feel.”

The earnestness in Even’s voice leaves Isak feeling vulnerable. He knows they’re meaningless words and they almost have a child-like quality to them. It feels like Even is just speaking the thoughts that cross his mind without applying the glossy filter that comes with being a calculating grown person who’s experienced the downsides of speaking too quickly, too recklessly. Even is being reckless, and Isak doesn’t know how to handle him anymore.

He blushes and looks away, his mind scrambling for a rational thought to latch on and a witty comeback to end this dumb conversation.

“Noted,” Isak mutters then rolls his eyes, his hands reaching for the notebook where he drew their itinerary. “Never wake you up when you’re taking a nap, unless I’m ready to listen to you speak nonsense. Noted. I won’t do it again.”

He steals a short glance to check if Even is offended, but he’s still smiling, still hugging the table and smiling.

“Where was I again? Before I woke you from your deep slumber, huh?” Isak continues.

“You were talking about how you don’t understand Pride. And how only people who are ashamed insist on showing that they’re proud,” Even replies in a heartbeat, still smiling, like he’s about to burst with it.

“Uh, okay. So I guess you really were listening, huh,” Isak remarks nervously.

“You penetrate me. I told you. All this philosophy talk gets me.”

“Shut up!” Isak rolls his eyes while Even chuckles, then decides to focus on what he knows best, on the only thing that calms him down: his facts. “Anyway, I wasn’t even really talking philosophy there, just my personal opinion. Or I guess that counts as philosophy, too. But if you’re actually interested in knowing what old scholarship has to say on the matter, Aristotle is very known for his take on Pride. He actually thinks Pride is a virtue unlike most monotheist religious texts. Pride is weirdly defined, but a recurring definition is that pride is what is felt when a person thinks they exhibit greatness, so long as they actually do exhibit greatness. There’s a difference between thinking you’re great and being great, you know. So yeah, Aristotle says that as long as you’re great, it’s okay for you to think that you’re great and to show it off. But I don’t really agree with him. I think you can just be great and-”

Isak pauses. He’s rambling, meandering, blabbering. He’s nervous and he can’t stand it. He looks at Even and finds him staring, just staring so intensely, Isak can’t breathe. He wishes he’d go back to sleeping.

“But yeah, I don’t want to bore you with all these things,” Isak shrugs and goes back to staring at his notebook. “I guess if you want to learn more, you can just go to the library or consult your favorite resource: Wikipedia, as the lame person you are.”   

Even doesn’t react to his unnecessarily mean jabs, so Isak keeps talking. He rambles and he talks, hoping Even will just chime in eventually and tease him again about being annoying, or just do something.

Isak is grateful for his ability to just speak nonsense for days at a time and make it sound like it’s a deliberate stream of consciousness. He’s grateful for that ability because nothing he’s saying is making sense right now. He’s probably mixing up philosophers and references, and the only absent consciousness here is his own.

His mind is too busy trying to fight off the only words that have been playing in his head since last week, the ones Even uttered so shamelessly in front of kollektivet, so easily, the unspeakable ones, the outrageous ones.

Isak refuses to even think them. He wonders if Even regrets uttering them, if he’d like to take them back. Isak probably wouldn’t mind if Even asked. They were quite ridiculous. The least Isak could do was help restore their partnership up to that point and forget Even’s mild slip-up. He could do that for him. He really could.

“Anyway, Pride makes no sense if you really look at it from a socio-economic lens. As in it’s just a huge capitalist holiday disguised as social activism. And all these big corporations and business couldn’t care less that Sigve from East Oslo got bullied in middle school for being gay. They just want your money, and-”

Isak pauses again. He’s about to combust. He really is about to. Is Even smiling because he finds him ridiculous and is enjoying watching him fumble and trip over his own words? Is Even regretting saying those words? He hasn’t said them again. He hasn’t kissed Isak since they “made out” against the kollektiv’s blue door after Even said he’d wait for him. Even has been ecstatic and outrageous all week now, but he hasn’t kissed Isak in six days and 3 hours and 17 minutes and Isak can’t stand it anymore. He just needs to stop feeling so much. He just needs-

“What?!” Isak finally cracks. And he’s breathless and probably flushed from ear to ear. But he can’t just sit here and pretend that everything is fine when Even is looking at him like that. He can’t. He just- “What is it?!”

Even reaches for him with one hand, his head still propped on his other arm. And time stills again until Even’s thumb brushes against Isak’s cheek.

Time stills.

“I love you,” Even says like it’s the most evident thing. And Isak’s mind catches fire. “So much.”

Why is hearing it the second time is even harder than the first? Why are all of Isak’s defenses coming down? Why is he so flustered? Why can’t he move or speak? Why does it feel like getting stabbed in the chest? Why is something so simple so difficult to hear and accept?

It must show on Isak’s face because Even has now left his chair–Isak must have blanked out for a few seconds there; nobody can move that fast– and is cupping his cheeks with both hands while towering over him, the table still separating their bodies.

“So much, I could burst,” Even says solemnly before leaning in and pressing his lips to Isak’s. Right there in the middle of the Kaffebrenneriet right by Kollektivet, like it’s nothing, like this is nothing, like this is a thing they do every hour of every day, kiss in public spaces.

Isak can’t think, can’t breathe, but he kisses back. His body is conditioned to it by now. It’s just a kiss, just lips. But it drains him all the same. His jaw is tilted dramatically at a near 90 degree angle, with his throat exposed and vulnerable, to meet Even’s lips. It’s just a kiss, but it drains and empties him all the same. Isak indulges. Isak takes. He takes all of it.

“You are loved,” Even whispers to him when he pulls back, a giant smile on his face. And Isak can’t help the loud squeak that escapes him when Even leans down again to press his lips to his neck.

–

Isak stomps furiously the entire way back to the kollektiv, livid and angry at Even for pulling such a stunt in public, while Even follows closely behind, laughing and laughing and laughing.

Later that night, when Isak tries to go to sleep while Even works on some abstract project in the living room at an ungodly hour for the fourth night in a row, he finds three new words lining up to haunt and comfort him all the same.

‘You are loved.’

[probably-writing-x]

High Society (The Reveal)

~A Tom Holland AU Series~

Tags: @imarypayne @sunshine112 @sleepwalkingdragon @supernatural-girl97 @vibhati123 @butithasntkilledyouyet @faefictions @carisi-sonny @trap-house-homiecide @shamelessbookaddict @tommydaspidey @oneblckcoffee

Warnings: In-detail depictions of death and murder, language warning, mentions of violence and gang crime.

Notes: Wow! It's finally here!!! I hope this reveal lives up to your expectations... I'm so nervous to post it ahhhh! Let me know allof your final thoughts...

~~~Wednesday 30th January 2019~~~

"-I am arresting you under suspicion of the murder of Imogen Clarke. You do not have to say anything but it may harm your defence if you do not mention something that you later rely on in court. Anything you do say may be given as evidence," Her voice is certain of every word and you swear for a moment you feel all hearts drop to the tiled floor. Going, going, gone.

~~~Friday 25th January 2019~~~

"Dad, please stop going on about it," You sigh, fixing the light curls of your hair for the millionth time, "Can I not just enjoy tonight? Or is that not allowed after the big sister reveal?"

Peter and Evan were stood in the doorway of your bedroom, clearly giving you extremely unimpressed looks about your decision to attend the Winter Ball.

"It's not just Imogen," Peter points out, nudging at his husband, "You know how we feel about that Thomas kid,"

You let out an exaggerated groan, turning around to face them, "Stop it! You're acting like he's completely destroying who I am. In fact, he's the only reason I actually want to be there tonight. I would be very happy to never have to see Imogen again. But I want to spend one last night at that school before you flip everything upside down again, okay?"

Your outburst was unexpected by all of you and your Dads are stunned into a welcomed silence, both of them looking at their baby girl with blinking eyes, refusing to believe that this school had changed her that much. But it had. And, of course, they wouldn't accept that. She was too pure to be tainted by the posh kids at that school.

"Tom's here," You sigh, more thankful than you'd be able to express to him. Turning quickly to check yourself in the mirror, you brush your hands cautiously over the material of your dainty dress, making sure the boxing gloves still hung right over your heart. You welcomed the nerves, it made this all feel like a real school dance - and not a shattering goodbye.

Tom was waiting at the door when you made your way down the stairs and the shine in his eyes made you instantly know you'd made the right choice with your dress. It was a dark sky blue colour and fell over the curves of your hips, cutting off at the point on your thighs where your stretch marks faded. His eyes echoed a mix of complete adoration and an utter surprise that you'd be the one he'd attend the ball with tonight.

"Hello stranger," He croaks out, quickly clearing his throat to try to avoid his cheeks growing too much of a pink glow.

"Hello, Thomas," You chuckle, realising just how much you'd missed that damn face.

He grabs your hand when you're just close enough to him and pulls you flush against his chest, "Do we really have to go to the ball? Can't we have our own party?"

You hum against his words, welcoming the hot air that they bathed your face in, "Maybe we could sneak a few moments to ourselves,"

"I know this is meant to be some big reunion or whatever but can we please get going?" Sam calls from his seat in the back of Tom's car, poking his head out from the open window.

You laugh and greet the twins who had opted to dress in matching suits for the night. Tom opened your door for you and, soon, the four of you were journeying towards school; still with the sickening feeling in your stomach that it would be your last time.

~~~

The school was electrified with a warm buzz, with all of your year filtering through the doors and welcoming the familiarity of chart songs blasting through the overhead speakers. Tom was greeted by everyone he walked past and he made sure to say hello to them all, still happy to take the title of King of this school. It was only when he saw Lily that he really had to force the 'nice boy' demeanour.

"It's nice to see you Lily," He smiles politely, twisting his hand in yours slightly as though he still needed to confirm you were there, "Did you have a good holiday?"

"Oh relax with the small talk," She rolls her eyes, "Talk to me when you've got rid of the downgrade, honey," Her lips press against his cheek in a bitter display of affection before she's strutting off with an excessive display of confidence.

You speak up before Tom can even try to apologise, "Let's get a drink, I think we might need something stronger than punch if we're going to make it through comments like that,"

His laugh is a sound you didn't realise you were missing as he willingly accepts you tugging him towards the refreshments stand where Noah and Z are visible.

"Well hello, stars of the show," Noah wiggles his brows at the two of you, handing over a cup of fruit punch to Sam who had walked over too.

"Hey guys," You grin, reaching over to get two cups for you and Tom, "Did you have a good holiday?"

All of you engage in relaxed small talk until the sound of the microphone cracking makes everyone's eyes divert toward the stage.

Mrs Osterfield took her position behind the microphone and cleared her throat. It was only then that everyone else joined you: Harrison, Lily, Harry, Noah, Zendaya, Sam, Imogen, Tom and you.

"Well, you all look beautiful tonight guys and I'm glad we can all be here to celebrate together. Something I've really noticed about this group is the community spirit - you are all one big team and that's something that you should really embrace-" She continues with her speech about how brilliant you all were before the lights dim in the sports hall and you're all left in a strange, prolonged darkness.

It is only then that something flashes. You can't help but divert your eyes to Zendaya and Noah, both hiding a deep pride for all of this, clearly being at the heart of the plan. You go back to reading the words spilling across the electronic screen.

'We were all told this term to expose something about ourselves and about each other. But it's time we expose something about the school we're relying on for our futures. How about them completely dismissing everything fucked up that's going on in our year? The manipulation of their teachers by eighteen year old students. The manipulation of other students by people forcing them into twisted relationships,'

Everybody in your group looks to Imogen who is red with a burning fury.

'We're living in a fucked up school. And Lily, Imogen, all of you, this is where it stops,"

The lights don't come back on but the chatter of every student in here is enough to cover any need for illumination. Enough had already been seen. And, in the blue light glow of the enlarged screen, you watch Imogen storm away from the crowd. When you glance back up, Zendaya and Noah have disappeared into the crowd and it is too dark to see where they've gone.

You find yourself following the focus of the recent exposure and you finally catch up with Imogen at the stairs.

"Imogen," You start, watching as she pauses in her high-heeled steps on the inclined floor.

"Did you set this up? Was this all you?" She questions, clearly not holding enough respect for you to justify her making any eye contact.

"No, god, no. I had no idea," You respond.

It felt strange to be seeing her now, not just as the bitch Imogen but as a girl you had spent your first moments as the sibling of. The girl you had the potential to grow up to want to be just like.

"Then what do you want? Are you here for an apology or something?" It is only now that she turns round, arms folded and looking in all ways dissimilar from you. Maybe you were thankful for that - her beauty held a chilling sin.

"I found something out over Christmas and I think it's important that you know," You begin, wrapping your hands around each other to express your nerves without trembling onto the ground.

"Well? Spit it out,"

"You're my sister," You manage to finally release, the words feeling sickening to be directed at someone you wanted to completely despise.

The look on her face was one you were all too knowing to not expect. A mocking smirk and the delicate release of a pathetic laugh.

"What the fuck is that meant to mean?" She scoffs, stepping one stair closer to you.

"What I just said. I was ado-" You begin but she is quick to cut you off, stepping so close that you could see every particle of her makeup.

"Oh, honey, don't act like there's some familial bond between us," She lets out an exasperated laugh, "Because, sis, I'm pretty sure family wouldn't be willing to help somebody steal from me,"

You're sure it is audible when your words clatter against the floor, echoing irritatingly through mocking halls.

"Don't test me, (Y/N)," She shakes her head, "And don't ever assume we're family, darling,"

And then she's gone, leaving you at the bottom of these stairs, sure that you were going to wake up in any moment. Nothing.

You're not sure how long you stay there, sitting against the cold stairs, until someone is there to greet you.

The familiar aftershave of Tom's wraps around you like a blanket as his arms hold your waist with a relieving comfort.

"So I lost everyone at the party, I literally couldn't find anyone," He comments, a harmless remark for now.

Tom pulls himself closer to you, his head only inches from yours.

"Is this our chance to get away?" He mumbles, breath hot as his lips brush your ear.

Tom needs no reply as he pulls you through the corridors and out through the doors towards the swimming pool.

"Tom," You hiss but you can't say anything more as you feel your back press against the harshness of the cold wall tiles. It forces you to let out an involuntary squeak that is instantly silenced by Tom's lips on yours.

You melt into the contact that you had been missing for weeks and forget all about the rest. It was just him.

When he pulls away, his forehead is on yours and his nose bumps subconsciously with yours, "(Y/N)," He begins, welcoming the breathless nature of his words, "I know. I know your parents want you to leave. And I know you're going to leave after tonight," His confession feels like you've just been hit against the tiled wall once again, forceful and unforgiving.

"I-" You start, "How did you find out?"

"I knew your Dads were still debating it so I found Evan's number and I spoke to him whilst you were away," You find yourself gripping onto him a little tighter as he speaks, "I pleaded with him for ages to try to get you to stay. But he said the only way you'd ever be able to carry on here would be if you separated yourself from everyone who's had a bad impact on you. From me,"

"Tom I'm not staying here if-"

"I also knew that would be your response. So, I want to spend this one last weekend with you and then we'll decide your fate after that. We'll decide if you stay or go. But, let's just get away for a weekend," His positive encouragement is enough to make you want to agree wholeheartedly.

"Okay," You whisper and his face brightens enough to make your dark surroundings feel blinding.

"Then let's go, you know what your parents are like. They wouldn't want you to step a foot out of here with me," He points out, his hand gripping yours with more certainty than ever.

Tom goes to pull you away and it is in that moment that everything just stops. The shattering blow was an unmistakable sound and so was the ear bursting thud that followed. And, then, a stumbling silence.

"What wa-" Tom begins but he sees the way your eyes glaze over. The way your hand falls out of his and the way he's sure your heart audibly stops. It is only then that his eyes follow yours, tracing the invisible path to where you couldn't bare to rip your gaze from.

Unmistakable.

You could see how their hands were trembling, and how the trophy fit into them with a deathly uncertainty, a foreign power. Their eyes held a fury that was washed over with a sheer shock at what their own actions had just caused. And their stumbling feet told you that their mind still hadn't processed what their instincts had just caused.

"No," Tom shakes his head, feet chasing after the scene like they'd run fast enough to rewind it, "No, no, no, no,"

It was as clear as day in the dim setting. Her body, unforgivingly lifeless in the scarlet pooling of her once rushing blood. Her eyes, fluttered shut to echo a false hope that she was peaceful, only to be shattered by the ragged wound across her styled hair.

"What have you done?" Tom yells, his eyes diverting around every single feature of this mess.

The trophy clattered to the floor in another bone shuddering clash. And you could see how their hands trembled, a vision of thankfulness for the power they were able ro release from grip.

"She- she knew too much," They stumbled over the words like it wasn't their mouth saying them and it wasn't their hands that had just stopped all knowledge she could have held.

It was in that moment you could see how unreal this all seemed to Tom. In front of him was no longer a person he knew. It was a person he was sure he never wanted to meet. Because, behind trembling hands and crying eyes, there was someone who had just killed another. A murderer. His brother.

"She knew about the gang, and she knew about the pregnancy test," He shakes and the movement is recognisable in his fearful words, "And then I heard her talking to you (y/n), she knew about the necklace and us and Harrison,"

Tom can't possibly rip his eyes away from the boy in front of him but you know he's wishing he could be anywhere else. That he could wake up and have his younger brother again, and not this tainted form of the boy he once was.

"Okay, you need to get out of here," You nod, certain of your unsure words, "Go through the back alley to your house and stay there until we tell you to come back. We'll just say you didn't feel well and you came back once you heard something had happened,"

He looks at you and his eyes are blurring with a terrified haze.

"Tom, me and you need to go. We'll go to the gym and just say that we went there after the whole fiasco at the ball to spend some time together. Nobody will question it," You say to him and it is only then that he makes eye contact with you.

"Tom, am I going to prison?" The younger holland brother asks, and it is only then that he truly starts to cry.

"Hey, hey," Tom steps over to him and grips his shoulders, "You're my brother. I'd do anything for you. That's what it means to be a Holland, okay Harry?"

And then he's running.

You force yourself with everything to look down at the lifeless body. The dried blood that stained her hair and trailed down her face. It all felt too gone. Like she'd been gone for far too long.

"We need to get rid of that fucking trophy," You mention and you're sure that everything around you is spinning apart from that blood soaked weapon.

"T-Tom?"

Both of you look up to see Sam stood frozen in the doorway of the swimming pool, looking between you and Tom like he wanted to run as far away from you as possible.

"Sam, buddy, we need you to do something," Tom states, "I need you to take that trophy, go out the back door, and get it as far away from here as possible,"

Sam can't help but listen to the words of his brother, whom he was willing to trust with his life.

"It was Harry, wasn't it?" He says as his hands grasp the cold, twisted metal of the trophy.

"Now's not the time," Tom replies, still refusing to confirm it yet, "Get out of here, go!"

It is as soon as his brothers are out of here that you see Tom decline. He runs his hands through his hair and you're sure he can feel everything around him crumbling.

"Babe, come on, we can't stay here," You grab at his hand and start pulling him toward the door, wanting to get as far away from the scene as your mind would let you run.

And the two of you set off like there's a fire at your heels. But what really chased at your escape was much worse than any fire could muster. It was the glass eyes of your blood relation, at the cold hands of Tom's own brother.

You're sprinting down the corridor behind Tom and watch as his hands tug at the tie around his neck, throwing it's silk to the floor in an absentminded throw. The restriction in his chest was impossible to stop.

And you were running - away from a fate that was far too sickening to fathom.