#anyway. real partnership fake marriage i eat that shit up

[foolgobi65]

Lois/Clark + travel au + fake dating + “are you sure this is legal?”

again, its kind of a fake marriage and...also again....this is kind of the set up for the fake marriage scenario? i basically used this as an opportunity to write down a bunch of my lois headcanons for a period after superman reveal but before the get together lmao but i hope you still like it!! thank you so much for sending the prompt, i love lois sm and this was i think the first time i’ve really written from her (or actually written out lois and clark lol) so everyone please send feedback re: lois and clark characterizations!!!!

love u to the moon and back!!!!

---

“Clark, what does legal really mean, other than the things our government arbitrarily decided we’re allowed to do?”

Next to her, Clark rolls his eyes and Lois tries not to show the awe that briefly floods her body when she remembers that Superman is Clark is Superman is Clark, which means that when he responds to her quip, it’s not only as Smallville but as Kal-El, who she once named ‘the Man of Tomorrow.’ 

“Nice to see Libertarian Lois make an appearance,” Clark-El quips, and Lois nearly melts. It’s been about a month since what she, agnosto-sympathetic as she’s always been, termed in her own mind as the Revelation. Clark is Superman is Clark, she reminds herself as she always has to, to keep herself from running in as many directions as she can, vainly trying to outrun the fastest man alive. 

Being, maybe. Because he’s not really a man, is he?

Clark, Lois thinks again. Clark Kent from Smallville, Kansas. Son of Martha. Man, man, man. Lois is no fool to think that he could really be anyone else -- Clark, for all that he’s apparently lied to her, couldn’t possibly have lied about this. Superman had always seemed so aloof, so removed from the daily grind of humanity’s issues: sure, he’s saved plenty of cats up trees, but Lois had always wondered if he understood why those cats were so beloved, or worse if he saw humanity as the perennial cat constantly stuck up in trees of its own making. But she hadn’t known Superman, really, hadn’t thought she would be able to. 

Not like she’d known Clark. Clark, of the long-form article following the production of a single plaid shirt he’d been wearing on Monday during the week’s pitch meeting. Clark, who was always falling into step right next to Lois no matter where she was, or who she was up against, his heart the only one that burned like Lois when confronted with the nastiness of the world. 

Clark, who Lois has always considered the most human man she ever met. Clark who is somehow biologically, the least human man in the universe.

“Lois?” Clark’s voice is just slightly strained as if he can hear the thoughts scurrying round and round Lois’s mind, but no Lois had asked about that during those first few terrifying days when up had seemed like down and she’d felt like the shittiest investigative reporter since Arnab Goswami. Clark couldn’t read minds, not really, he’d said -- he could at most see the neurons firing (and wasn’t that a horrifying thought?) but he hadn’t tried to figure out a pattern. 

“But I don’t watch your neurons,” he’d said with what then-Lois had recognized as a hint of human-Clark, who she later realized was just-Clark’s shit-eating grin. “Your mind makes me dizzy enough when I’m just observing from the outside. Can’t imagine what would happen if I was trying to follow your thought process in real-time.” 

Now-Lois shakes her head slightly, unattractive like a wet dog. “Sure it’s illegal to impersonate a pair of massage therapists, but you’re an extraterrestrial traveler, Clark. Do the mighty dictums of the United States really mean that much to you?” 

She knows almost as soon as the last half of the sentence leaves her lips that it’s the wrong thing to say. Clark’s from Kansas, just like he always said. He was raised in Kansas, with Kansas values whatever the hell that means. Christ, she thinks, she’s never been so insensitive to an adoptee in her life. 

A month ago, Clark’s face might have crumpled. Two weeks ago, he might have thrown Lois’s insensitivity right back in her face. Today, though, his eyes only go wide for a second, right before Lois sees them glint with what she can only label as sheer Clarkness. It’s a near cousin of his shit-eating grin, that’s for sure, and if it makes her heart race with a little anticipation that between her, the universe and, if he’s listening, Sup--

Shit. 

But maybe Clark isn’t listening, too focused on what he’s about to say, because he plows on despite her heart rate. “Lois,” he drawls, “I don’t ignore the dictates of the United States because I'm an alien.”  

Oh for fuckssake. “Clark now is not the time to crib off of your much cooler mom’s actual anarchist credentials. You can talk as much theory as you want, but you were the one who just asked if we should continue our pursuit of justice based on legality.” 

Clark scoffs. “Perry suspended us for two weeks, and on day two you called me up and asked if I wanted to go on a vacation.” 

Sometimes, Clark’s whole Clark-shtick makes it so that Lois can’t tell if he’s actually hurt, or if he’s just fucking with her emotions, the ones everyone told him she’d long shot dead and buried behind the house, for his own amusement. She squints, leaning in a little closer to check for his usual tells, and there! Just at the corner of his lip, a slight twitch, so minuscule that no one but Lois could have found it. 

“You asshole! You were bored too!” Lois crosses her arms. “C’mon, would you really have been happy with a normal cruise, just floating on the ocean and wearing Hawaiian shirts while eating shrimp, no care in the world?” She raises her eyebrows, grinning like she’s trying to sell Clark a tub of Crisco. “Isn’t taking down the Mob just so much more exciting?” 

According to her therapist, Lois was never really in love with Superman. Lois was in love with the idea Superman represented -- a good man, powerful without the corruption she saw infesting those with power every day, a man so far above humanity that he was safe from the trainwreck that was Lois’ interior self. He could never really love her back, so Lois was safe loving him, never had to worry about her job putting him in danger or her tongue slicing him up during an argument until there was nothing left but his torn up suit. 

Clark, though, Clark was very real, her therapist said. Says, though Lois hasn’t been responding to her calls since the Revelation. She doesn’t know how quite to say “hey Doc, remember how we’ve been talking on and on about Clark and Superman, and how I have to ‘give up my illusion of safety in order to take a real leap of faith?’ Well, do I have a doozy for you!”  

But anyway, the point her therapist was making was that Clark actually knows Lois, inside and out. Probably better than Lois knows herself, at this point, and he loves her for it anyway. Because he does love her, Lois knows. Just like Jimmy knows, and Perry, and Lucy, and hell the guy at her corner bodega too who thinks that “that nice plaid-shirt guy you’re seeing, who comes in to buy you a whole dozen maple donuts before he picks you up, he’s gonna pop the question any day now Miss Lane!” 

Clark has loved Lois for a long time but never told her because Lois has spent almost the entirety of their partnership pretending to love Superman, afraid of being judged wanting by the only person in the world who could actually make that judgment in the first place. Clark loves her now, but Lois’ parents loved each other too once, and that relationship ended with her mom being just a little grateful that the cancer was actually going to kill her so that she wouldn’t have to put up with the General anymore. Lois knows that Clark thinks she doesn’t love him, that he thinks her love for Superman died in the fire of knowing that Superman was actually her bumpkin friend Clark, but for once she’s too afraid to report the truth. 

The truth, that all those parts Lois’ mother hated in the General -- his stubbornness, his arrogance, his inability to see anything outside of the scope of his gun -- Mad-Dog Lane has too, probably in equal measure. Clark isn’t her mom, but he too is kind, and gentle. Soft sometimes, in ways that Lois can’t believe he manages when faced with the horrors of humanity twice over. He’s her best friend, her partner, but if they added another step to their weird dance wouldn’t it finally be too much? Clark has parents who love him, makes friends easier than Lois can breathe, but Lois has only Clark. Maybe Perry, but even then who knows -- Clark might get Perry in the divorce since he can actually spell. 

“Hmm?” Lois shakes herself again, finally seeing Clark’s hand wave in front of her face. “Sorry, Clark.” 

He laughs. “It’s fine Lois, I was just saying something you’d probably have liked to hear so it’s probably best that you didn’t.” 

Lois clicks her tongue, rounding on Clark. “Well if it’s that I was right about you being bored after an entire two days off, then I don’t need to hear it. I already know I’m right and that’s good enough for me.” 

Clark rolls his eyes. “One of the precious few times you are, since this idea of yours is all sorts of wrong. Beyond the legal thing, which I will remind you, is a matter of having a massage therapy license that neither of us has and as such, cannot in good faith offer massages as part of our jobs as massage therapists.” Funny that Clark seems to have no comment on the whole “fake marriage” part of Lois’ plan. 

Lois brushes off his concern with what she thinks is aplomb. “See that would have been a problem for the Lois-of-a-month-ago, but today-Lois knows something that you apparently haven’t thought about!” 

“Oh?”

Lois beckons Clark closer, and because he loves her, he humors her by leaning in close. “See,” she whispers into his ear, “Today-Lois knows that her partner Clark has super-vision, and can see all those pesky muscle groupings neither of us knows about. Just talk to me in a language we know but the client doesn’t, and we’ll be all good!” 

Clark chokes. “You want me to...use my powers to aid in our...subterfuge?” 

Lois raises an eyebrow. “Are you seriously telling me that you haven’t used them on a story before?” That would be very Clark-like of him, she supposes, but on the other hand, the Clark she knows would never not use a resource to help break a story. And, just like she thought--

“No,” Clark says, flushing beet red -- I made Superman blush! Lois thinks and tamps down -- “No I have, but just not so....” 

“Planned?” 

“No,” Clark admits, “it was definitely planned.” He laughs softly. “Honestly, I think it’s that no one else has ever planned to use my powers, at least not as Clark.” Superman, of course, helps build millions of homes and launches nuclear waste into space: there’re entire forums where top scientists compete to see which of their ideas Superman can help them fulfill. And here Lois is, asking him to use those same powers so that they can fake being massage therapists to coax out leads from horny couples with connections to the Mob. 

She bites her lip, insecure in only the way Superman and Clark have been able to make her feel. Just figures that they were the same person the whole time. “Is..,” Lois swallows, “Is that ok? That I planned it?” Her eyes widen, sudden panic suffusing her body. “Ohmygod Clark, I don’t want you to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, or anything, I mean I definitely think your powers are cool but I love you for your mind first and fore--” 

Everything inside and out of Lois’s brain shuts off. Did she just--

Clark’s jaw drops, wild hope Lois doesn’t even think he realizes creeping into the corners of his eyes. “Did you just--” 

“I..” Lois’ brain is now entirely composed of those moments when your CD skips, no words, no feelings, just skips. 

And then, like the greatest gift and curse the Universe could possibly bestow at once, the Cruise Director’s door opens. “Hello,” she says, glancing down at the names on her clipboard and doing a double-take. “Bumpo and Geraldine McTungus?” 

[crystalsnowmins]

Yoonmin Scenario #17

Ah ha! 2.9k of probably your favourite scenario I’ve written.

*     *     * Arranged Marriage! AU, In which Jimin tries to work this strange married relationship with Yoongi and the latter is in denial of Jimin’s friendliness. (Part 2)

Yoongi massages his forehead as the car comes to a halt in front of his apartment building. The chauffeur opens the door and bows down in respect although he’s much older than him. Yoongi nods at him and gets out of the car with two of the security guards following him.

It’s the end of the day and the fatigue of the work is seeping through his body and giving him a headache. He had several meetings to attend with no positive outcomes and it has really stressed him out. The investors from Russia, for a new mall, are being real fuckers and Yoongi is so close to cancelling this whole partnership.

He and the guards enter the lift and he presses the button to his penthouse. He stands in silence with the thoughts of what he has accomplished today. It’s quite late tonight as he stayed back to finalize few things regarding his estates.

When the lift door opens, the guards move back to give Yoongi space to leave. They bow down to him and press the button to the ground floor. He walks further inside the penthouse to the main glass door that would lead to the main hall of the penthouse. Yoongi takes off his shoes and sees another pair of sneaker neatly kept at the corner and some other boots arranged on the rack.

Sometimes he forgets Jimin lives with him. Usually, he’s really quiet around the house because Yoongi has asked him to be. Despite being married for four months now, Yoongi hasn’t gotten used to Jimin and their relationship. It was any way fake from the starting despite being married for real. His intentions were fake so he doesn’t believe his marriage with him.

Once he gets his abeoji’s inheritance and gets on his good side, he’ll divorce Jimin as per process. They’ll officially end there and he doesn’t have to live with him. He only does because of his parents and well… they are married according to the world.

He walks to couch facing the view of the skyline and the city. Taking his coat off, Yoongi slumps down on the couch. He groans in relief and folds his sleeves up to his elbows when he hears Jimin’s voice calling for him.

“Yoongi hyung?” He doesn’t know where his voice is coming from so Yoongi doesn’t answer backs and ignores him. “Hyung, is that you?” Jimin calls again, voice clearer and closer.

Yoongi throws an arm over his eyes to block out everything. He’s so tired and hasn’t slept properly due to phone calls coming through in the morning. He feels Jimin before he hears him again. Jimin cautiously pads to the hall room, softly breathing as he looks down at Yoongi and smiles.

“Hey, hyung,” He greets softly and continues to stand there even when Yoongi doesn’t acknowledge him. “How was today?” He further asks, hoping to talk to Yoongi.

Yoongi doesn’t answer and just breathes loudly. Jimin is used to it by now, Yoongi ignoring him most of the time. He thinks it’s very childish of Yoongi because he hasn’t done anything wrong. Yoongi did choose to marry him, so it’s not like Jimin forced him to marry.

“I’ll keep your coat away,” Jimin whispers and takes the coat from the back of the couch. He gives one more glance at Yoongi, sighing and leaving.

Yoongi wonders why Jimin is awake still. It’s pretty late anyway and the kid has college in the morning, doesn’t he? Then why is he still awake? Was he waiting for him? Yoongi has told many times to Jimin to not wait for him, and if he’s late, then Jimin should already be on the bed by the time he comes. He won’t entertain Jimin if he’s awake and waiting because he’s wasting his time waiting for Yoongi.

Jimin returns back and stands next to Yoongi’s figure, sprawled on the couch, one leg resting on the floor, the other lying flatly on the couch.

“Did you eat anything?” Jimin asks, looking at Yoongi’s hidden face and hoping that the elder would look at him, even once.

“What’s your problem, Jimin?” Yoongi asks in an irritated tone as he removes the hand from his eyes and looks tiringly but slightly frustrated at Jimin. It scares him when Yoongi is in bad mood, not like he has raised his hands on Jimin in these four months (he doesn’t even look at Jimin, so raising a hand would be very far). But when Yoongi is angry, he can spew out some nasty shit on Jimin’s face without feeling regretful later.

“I…uh-I made you dinner,” Jimin stutters and fidgets when Yoongi raises his eyebrow at him in utter confusion. “Have you already eaten?” He asks, blinking rapidly due to nervousness. Yoongi sighs and sits up, rubbing his face with hands and sighing deeply again.

“Why did you make dinner?” Yoongi asks, looking at him in a bored manner as if trying to figure out Jimin.

“I called you to-uh ask about dinner but you didn’t answer,” Jimin informs him, looking unsurely and feeling very intimidated. “I haven’t eaten yet so I thought-,”

“I didn’t ask you to wait for me,” Yoongi shrugs in nonchalance. He remembers Jimin calling him during a meeting and him ringing it off and not bothering to call again. If Jimin needed anything, there were securities to get him things he desires. And if he needed things, he could ask them just like Yoongi instructed. So obviously he didn’t just call Yoongi to chit chat because they are not that sort of couple.

“I kn-know, I just thought that maybe we could-,”

“Jimin,” Yoongi sighs exasperatedly. “Stop it for fuck’s sake,” He grits and raise his voice which makes Jimin scared and flinch. “We are not a couple, we pretend it. So stop acting like we are one, I don’t think of you as my husband,” He spats and looks away from his face to the night skyline.

“We got married out of our own selfish choices. I’m giving you a place to live and eat because you asked out of it. And I’m married you to get my father’s company,” He reminds him again, looking sharply at him as Jimin bites his lips and looks down at his slippers. “Let’s stay in the line of the contract, don’t forget we are pretending, whether inside this house or outside the house.”

Jimin chews on his lips to stop himself from crying over Yoongi’s harshness. He should’ve known because they have been married for four months now and each day, Yoongi just gets worse. He thought as the time passes by, they’ll become more, at least try for this relationship, but as the days are passing, Yoongi is just moving far away from him.

“I just wanted to eat with you, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin says in a broken voice, not looking at him yet.

“What are you trying to do? What do you really want? Huh?” Yoongi asks frustratedly, messing up his hair by running his through it.

“I have to stay at home all day after my classes, my friends have a life of their own, I don’t have a sibling, my family is dead, my guardians hates me and I don’t have anyone at the moment, hyung,” Jimin informs with a broken whimper as he wipes off his tears before they could fall. He doesn’t see when Yoongi clenches his jaw. On the other hand, Yoongi looks straight ahead, contemplating Jimin’s words in his mind.

“Can’t I ha-have you as a friend at least?” Jimin sniffles and rubs his falling tears with sleeves as he looks at Yoongi for an answer.

“Friend?” Yoongi scoffs, “I simply don’t carry people with me, Jimin.” He plays with his rings and looks at them while speaking to his husband, “You’re not my friend, neither my husband-,”

“Then what am I to you?” Jimin cuts him off and Yoongi sharply looks at him for his misbehaviour. A heavy silence settles between them as they look into each other’s eyes challengingly. Jimin couldn’t see what Yoongi’s eyes held as he has built up a wall higher than Jimin and the latter can’t seem to break them. And Yoongi can see a sea of emotions in Jimin’s eyes, what stands out the most was his vulnerability, something Yoongi thinks is stupid and dangerous.

“An asset,” Yoongi speaks, “You’re an asset to me, no more, no less.” He finalises and stands up to Jimin’s height. They are almost the same height, although Yoongi thinks Jimin might be a few centimetres taller than him.

“Don’t make things out this,” He gestures between them, “You fucking signed the contract! You should know better Park Jimin,” Yoongi scolds while harshly staring at him. If looks could kill, Jimin would really be six feet underground.

He mumbles something that Yoongi couldn’t hear and the latter hums in attitude, an order for him to speak louder.

“Min-Park Jimin,” Jimin does say it loudly and looks at him without any fear. It makes Yoongi’s blood boil with frustration that Jimin doesn’t feel intimidated by him.

“Do you want to fucking read the contract again? Because I can arrange that for you. I don’t have to fucking remind you every time that this is a deal, you mean nothing to me, you would never-,”

“You’re being insolent, Yoongi,” Jimin speaks hurriedly with sadness marring his face. “You don’t have to be so rude each time you talk to me,” He shakes his head no and rubs his tears falling from eyes as he doesn’t want Yoongi to think it has affected him.

“Oh, but I do, don’t I?” He asks savagely, “Stop being so obsessive over this marriage. If you think by cooking food for me or like... waiting up for me will make me think differently of you, then you are wrong. I don’t like you, you’re not my husband.” He grits his teeth and comes closer to Jimin with his jaw clench and eyes burning with anger at the younger.

“If I would’ve known you were going to pull out such tricks, I wouldn’t have married you,” He whispers out to his face. “But it’s my fault, isn’t it? I should have found out more about you. With the people-,” Yoongi stops himself as he sees Jimin hysterically but quietly crying in front of him, he stops because he knew he was going to cross the line by bringing up Jimin’s guardians.

“I’m giving you whatever you’ve asked of me because I’m…I am thankful for what you’ve gotten yourself into,” This time Yoongi speaks softly and carefully. He may be known as an asshole person whose head is far up in his ass but his feet are still on the ground. His mother teachings didn’t go vain just ‘cause he grew up and lusted over the company. “Don’t expect more, I won’t give you more because I can’t. No matter how much insolent I sound to you, that is the truth. You’re an asset to me, I don’t see you as my husband because I don’t believe in our marriage. So for fucks sakes Jimin, please..,” He sighs and rubs his forehead, reminder of how he had that headache in the car.

When Jimin doesn’t answer, Yoongi thinks they are done over here, so he moves aside to walk back to his room but then Jimin’s soft but sad voice stops him.

“Just because you don’t believe in our marriage doesn’t mean that I have to also, Yoongi-hyung,” Jimin says and makes Yoongi turn back to him with a bored but very frustrated expression. “We took vows in front of those people and are tied by a bond now. I don’t believe in forever and I know you didn’t promise me that in the contract, I have read that plenty of times,” He smiles disbelievingly at the situation and shakes his head.

“I know one day, we’ll be in our own ways but for now, can’t we be friends at least? Can’t I just not worry about you blowing up on me? Can’t I just ask you about your day without you not giving an answer? Can’t I cook for you and wait for you to come home? I live here alone and I just want to talk to you sometimes,” He clenches his fist by the side looking at Yoongi and seeing an expressionless face. Jimin knows it’s a facade. If Yoongi can express, then he would but he’s not. And Jimin doesn’t know hey he’s not ready to open up.

“I’m not asking you this as a husband but as a friend. I called Hoseok hyung today and he said you have meetings so you’ll be busy. He said you haven’t had lunch yet. So I prepared dinner for you,” Jimin informs. He hopes Yoongi doesn’t get angry for intruding at his schedules. “I’m trying here because I have to live with you. Can’t you just be my friend, huh?” He angrily raises his voice.

Jimin stands there crying while Yoongi doesn’t speak, he only looks at him once and turns away, walking into the bedroom and slamming his door shut. At the noise of it, Jimin completely breaks down on the floor and cries in his hand.

He suddenly misses his parents whom he never met but yet he misses them. He misses his cousin who always bullied him but yet talked shit to him. He misses his friend Taehyung but can’t disturb him.

Jimin rubs his face with tears and snots and walks to the kitchen. The warm dishes have turned cold. He waited four hours for Yoongi to arrive home and have dinner together but as he came home, Jimin only enraged him.

If Jimin would have known that his life would have turned out this way, he wouldn’t have signed the contract. Taehyung said it’s the best option because it’s not like Yoongi was asking him to be his sugar baby nor was he asking for sex. He just needed to pretend to be his husband for a while. How difficult could that be?

He didn’t know they had to marry for real and live in a house together and constantly meet Yoongi parents and associates at parties.

All Jimin wanted was a friend out of Yoongi who would at least appreciate that Jimin sacrificed his sorry excuse for a life to marry Yoongi. He wasn’t happy before nor he’s happy now. He thought things would be different but it’s the same minus the beatings. He is still spoken with harsh words and made to feel so degraded for his kindness.

But he needs to live ‘cause he can’t pay seven million won to Yoongi. He supposes that he can ask Yoongi that sum of money, seeing as Yoongi agreed to give him whatever he wants, except a friendship, and return back the money and get the hell out of this toxic game.

But then he wouldn’t have a house to live or enough money to buy food or necessities and he can’t always ask Taehyung for help and anyone for that matter.

Jimin transfers food in Tupperware while he thinks of his life choices and rubs his tears. He has lost his appetite while waiting for Yoongi and then listening to him get angry at Jimin for even trying.

He takes few plastic boxes and opens the fridge to keep them. Once he has adjusted the items inside the fridge to make some room, Jimin stands up and turns around to pick more boxes of food to keep in the fridge. But instead, he sees Yoongi pulling the chair and taking a seat.

He stands against the fridge and shockingly looks at the man for few seconds while the latter looks around for the dishes that are made. He takes off the lids of the boxes and unconsciously pouts to see what he wants to eat first. Picking up his customised and personal chopstick, Yoongi opts for Ojingeochae which Jimin has actually prepared.

Jimin notices his expression but couldn’t find anything to look forward to. Yoongi takes another strip of squid and places it on his spoon full of rice before he takes it in his mouth and chews thoroughly.

Jimin smiles and quickly opens the fridge to take out all the dishes he has kept back. Yoongi quickly glances at his backside and gulps his food. It’s tasty, no doubt, he has eaten Jimin’s homemade food before. Jimin opens the lids and pushes the dishes to Yoongi happily before taking a seat as well.

“Hyung…do you want me to reheat them?” Jimin carefully ask, noticing the rice has gotten cold.

“No,” Is all Yoongi says and takes another spoon full of rice and Gulmuchim.

Jimin doesn’t bother him and subtly pushes the dishes he wants Yoongi to try. Yoongi does try them but not immediately. Everything tastes so good and he eats stomach full.

Jimin thinks that he really doesn’t need any words for his hard work, it is all conveyed with how Yoongi gets up and takes another bowl of rice. He knows Yoongi is much better than he makes himself to be and that he puts up his facade. Whatever may be the reason for it, Jimin will do his best to make them work out even if they end at last.

* * * Ugh, Yoongi is such an asshole!

So I’ve gotten a lot of requests to continue writing this AU but I’m not going to do that. Instead, I’ve divided the scenes into parts. I hope you like it!

[jkdavidson-blog]

Reflection on Relationship/Romance

An open note to potential suitors, male counterparts, past/present/future partners, and anyone else who gives a shit:

 Single life has been interesting and enlightening, on both a personal and social level. Below is a response, fueled in part by exasperation and in part by bold self-affirmation, to my experiences with men and romance over the past several years.  

 First of all, let me say that courtship is a very mysterious thing to me. “Playing the field” has been the most confusing experience of my adult life, so far. I'm no good at flirting. I get shy around people that I'm interested in. I tend to lose my words and just generally make an ass of myself. I get that gross “stress sweat” and I probably forgot to put on deodorant. Sometimes I wonder why men show any interest at all.

 Also, why does communication have to get so complicated in these situations? Be forewarned, I will take your words literally and hold you to them, so be careful how you say things. My first assumption is that cuddle means cuddle, friends means friends, and getting together for a meal is just a shared reality of daily living—we all have to eat anyway. If I give it some thought, I might pick up on the hidden meaning behind your words and invitations, but truth be told I'm not so good at reading between the lines and interpreting your subtle signs of interest. Your flirtatious tactics may be cute, but please be frank with me so no one has to go off of assumptions. To assume only makes an ass of u and me, you know?

 To those of you confused because yesterday I wanted to hang out with you but today I'd rather keep to myself, or last week we had fun at the bar but this week I don't feel like drinking, please be warned that dualities are a hallmark of my being. I walk between many worlds. If you plan to stick around, you'll have to deal with that. At least I'm trying to be authentic with you by telling you what it is that I really want or don't want. I invite you to do the same. Please don’t do something/go somewhere/eat something that you really don’t want to on my behalf. If we’re actually compatible, I’m sure we can find some real common ground. I’m willing to look for it if you are, and if it’s not there, we can’t fake it. Let’s be real with one another.

 Also, please be open to the possibility that my wants and preferences will likely change over time. As human beings, we grow and evolve throughout our lives, sometimes slowly and sometimes rapidly. This is normal; change is the only constant. Furthermore, I don't think that continuing to acquiesce to the same patterns that you have indulged in the past when your desires and interests are actually now different is really conducive to opening up to the inevitable changes that we undergo as humans. As far as I can tell, it stifles growth to attempt to ignore such shifts in your being. So I try to stay true to whatever is true for me in the moment, even if it isn't consistent with expectations that have been established by my past actions or statements. Sometimes things change so much that our relationship just doesn’t work well anymore, and that’s okay too. I wish you continued growth and blessings on your journey, even after your path diverges from mine.

 My condolences to the men who’ve felt abandoned or “cut off” by me. Perhaps I failed to warn you about, or perhaps I did and you still underestimated my vast need for freedom and for solitude.

 Condolences to those who have felt discouraged by my reluctance to open up to you fully. I’ve lived behind walls most of my life. Sharing and openness are things I’m working with today, but they are new and foreign and still, quite frankly, scare the shit out of me. If you’re really interested in knowing me, you’ll need to be “patient,” which I’ve come to understand is a too vague of a term for most people. Patience with me means months, not days or weeks, because in my humble opinion, if you’re worthy of being trusted your attention span must last longer than a high school football season. And, to those of you simply interested in getting in my pants, I advise you to fuck off immediately. You’re wasting my time and yours.

 Is this too much for you? Am I making things to complicated now? That’s fine. I may genuinely enjoy your companionship, but if you’re not there I’ll enjoy my own. I can love you but not “need” you, because as soon as I start needing you, that means I’m asking you to fill a void within me that I’m not able to fill myself, and if I get in the habit of always having you there to “complete” me, I’ll never learn to be whole on my own, and that’s a sort of vulnerability I’m not comfortable with anymore.

 If I “need” you, I’m asking you to be a certain way, or in a certain place, at a certain time, which crosses that fine line between honoring your independence and asking you to accommodate my wishes. What I’m asking of you may or may not be consistent with who you truly are, and the last thing I want to do is ask you to change yourself to satisfy me. Presumably, I was attracted to YOU in the first place; if I try to manipulate that, I run the risk of erasing the personality that drew me in to begin with. If I have the audacity to ask you to change in a way that you don’t want to change, I don’t believe either of us will be happy. If I choose to enter into a partnership, I want for it to be because I see you and love you for who you are, not who I can mold you to be. I desire a partner whom I can honor for the precious and amazing being that they are, not someone I shall change to fit my needs and preferences, as a tool to bring me greater comfort. If I can’t fully accept you as you are, then I don’t deserve your friendship. And I believe this, by the way, is a two-way street.

 I do realize that there are times when it’s necessary and beautiful to be able to lean on someone, but in the day-to-day sense of relationships and romance, I wish to maintain my independence and for you to maintain yours too, to whatever extent you desire. I strive not to ask anything of you that I wouldn’t want you asking of me. If I don’t hold up my end of that bargain, please call me out on it!

 Having said all of that, I also think that one of the most valuable things about our relationships with other humans is the ways in which they challenge and shape us. We see in the faces of others a certain reflection of ourselves that calls us to examine our own ideas, preferences, and motives. Sometimes we find ourselves in really awkward positions that make us uncomfortable and give us the opportunity to learn about what triggers us. Sometimes another person questions us or calls us to defend our views on something, which can be an opportunity to articulate our truth and/or examine that truth to see if it’s really a valid one. It’s an opportunity to check in and see if we are being loyal to our stated values. Other times, just getting to know someone and observing how they act can be an example for us—one we may aspire to follow or consciously avoid emulating. These are some of the most precious and important things about relationships with other people! So, I’m not writing this to say, “Hey I am who I am and I never want to change, so take it or leave it.” I do want to change, to become a better and better human being every year of my life, and I welcome the experiences that fuel that evolution—the joyful ones and the icky ones, too. What I am saying is that, in the context of a relationship, I don’t like for someone to try and dictate how I spend my time, where I spend it, or whom I spend it with. Crossing paths with someone serendipitously and mutually exploring what gifts you have to offer one another is one thing; forcing that union and demanding one or both parties change their behavior to maintain it artificially is quite another.

 Of course, I say this as a woman who doesn’t see marriage or child bearing in her future, so my views on relationship may be quite unique. Great, that’s why I’ve spelled them out to you here, so you can understand where I’m coming from and, even more importantly, so I can understand where I’m coming from. I believe it’s important to be clear about what we want—which is one of those concepts that is simple (in the sense that it is fairly straightforward) but not easy (easy to achieve, that is).

 Example: You say you want a job at company X, because it pays better and offers better hours than your current job. Or you need a new car, so you want a 2016 Subaru Outback in royal blue. Okay, so there are a lot of specifics there, but do they actually represent what you really want? Take the job, for example. It sounds like what you actually want are working hours that are more conducive to whatever else you do outside of work—hobbies, family obligations, etc. Also, with better pay you are hoping to more comfortably meet your financial needs and maybe even save up a little extra money to spend on whatever is fun or important for you. In a car, perhaps you are seeking more dependable transportation that fits your wide variety of driving needs, or you are seeking to make less of an impact on the environment in terms of using fossil fuels. The point is, those underlying wants often get masked by the specific ways in which we envision them being fulfilled. What if you didn’t get job X, but you got a different job that met your needs in a similar way, or your current boss miraculously agreed to give you a raise and adjust your schedule? What if you didn’t get the Subaru, but you found a trustworthy carpooling buddy and came across a reliable used car that you ended up buying instead? Would you still give thanks for your needs being met in the same way you would if they’d been met in exactly the way you pictured? I think it’s really important to acknowledge that we have what we need, regardless of what form it comes to us in. Anyway, I digress.

 So how is all that relevant to partnership? Well, what I’ve noticed in past relationships that sometimes, when my partner is unhappy with me because I’m not giving them what they want, it’s not really about me. It’s about them having a basic need, which they are probably not explicitly aware of, and expecting me to fulfill it for them. “You haven’t made time for me this week” sounds to me like “I need more companionship in my life lately, and I’d like you to fill that role.” Or, “It must be nice to be able to go on that trip; I would really love to go with you but I don’t have the money, and I probably never will” could also mean “I would like to travel but I have other financial obligations and priorities at this time and I don’t plan to reorganize my life to prioritize traveling anytime in the near future.”

 One trap people fall into with partnership is placing the burden of fulfillment on the other person, and often guilting their partner into actually accepting that burden. “You’ve been ignoring me, you must not care for me or value my company,” or “You’re abandoning me and our relationship to go have fun and travel the world with other people. You’re trying to replace me,” are the subliminal accusations to the statements above, but they entirely miss the source of those statements, which is that they person making them has some void or dissatisfaction within themselves that they’re counting on their partner to fulfill. They need more companionship or a restructuring of their living situation that allows them more freedom and leisure time, but instead of realizing the root cause of their unhappiness they’re simply feeling bad about their predicament and looking for someone to blame for it. And sometimes—in fact, more often than I’d like to admit—this kind of manipulation is effective and one person will sacrifice/compromise their desires to make the other person happy. Maybe this seems to work; maybe both parties are happy, at least for a little while. But it’s really just a band-aid on a wound that will continue to fester underneath. Unless the person with unacknowledged needs acknowledges them and takes steps to meet them (in a ways that does not place undue demand on their partner), those unmet needs will continue to cause dissatisfaction, and the person will continue to ask their partner to change and accommodate until that partner feels so stifled and out of touch with themselves they either lose their identity or get fed up with the relationship or both. That’s been my personal experience, anyway.

 So do a little introspection and get clear about your needs and wants. Check in with yourself before asking someone to change what they’re doing to make you feel better. Self-awareness and self-empowerment may be difficult to cultivate, but they bring you the kind of strength that cannot be taken away regardless of who enters or exits your life over the years. That kind of strength is truly priceless.

 Oh, and a foot note to the men who cat-call me the street—what  kind of woman are you looking for? My name is not “baby doll” or “sugar” or even “sexy.” I am not flattered by your advances—in fact, I’m rather unnerved—and I did not wear this skirt for your easy access. I’m not ignoring you because not rich enough or white enough or not wearing the right clothes. I might be ignoring you because you seem intoxicated. In the event that I did give you a polite nod and a hello as I walked by, I did so because you are a human being and deserve acknowledgement, not because I want to take you home with me. I walked past you because I was on my way somewhere, and your interest or carnal lust (whatever you want to call it) does not change my agenda. No, I don’t want to stop and talk to you for a minute, and no, I do not give my phone number to complete strangers. What do you even want to talk about?

 Jeez, what a ride it’s been, navigating interactions with the opposite sex. There seems to be so much to question, so much to demystify. Sometimes it’s so overwhelming that I just want to hide out. In the past, I’ve “hidden out” by getting into another relationship—into another partnership that would quickly become predictable and familiar, something that would funnel most of the effort of relating to the opposite sex toward one person, which seemed more manageable. Being in a relationship would shelter me from having to field the attentions of other men and thus the confusion and awkwardness I spoke about above in the first few paragraphs. I sacrificed a lot of personal growth by doing that over so many years. I knew myself only as I related to my current boyfriend, not as I stood on my own two feet. My social circle and my “interests” were strongly influenced by my partner, and if he wasn’t around I lacked a definite sense of direction. My self esteem could be gauged by how attractive I felt to my partner or to other men. That has all changed for me over the past couple of years, as I’ve spent more time being single and invested more energy in getting to know myself and pursuing my own interests. Sometimes I feel I’m a little late to the game in that respect, but at least I’m getting around to it now.

 Another wonderful side effect of this process has been a deepening of my relationship with the sacred feminine in all areas of my life. That is, with my own feminine side, which for years I abhorred and alienated, as well as with other women, whom I had previously perceived as competitors but now view as fellow goddesses and dearest allies. Female companionship, I have learned, offers a superior respite from the complexities of dealing with our male counterparts, so long as we agree to honor and respect one another as sisters rather than opponents. Some of the things I value most about being in community with other women are the freedom from objectification, the equality, and the authenticity we are able to practice together. Of course, ideally all of these things would be achievable in any group regardless of sex/gender composition, but theory and practice remain separated in most events with regards to this issue.  

 As women, we may each be on our own unique paths, but there remains a certain sisterhood between us, a common goal we endeavor towards. We help one another along the way; such is our nature. I have had the privilege of learning a lot of valuable lessons from many outstanding and inspiring women along my journey, women from all walks of life. I think it’s also safe to say I’ve taught and inspired many of the women around me. Again, this is the basic value of relationship with other humans, applied to sacred sisterhood. Perhaps what I need more of in my life right now is sisterhood. The focus has, for quite long enough, been on trying to match myself to a man somehow. I am unique and whole already. There is no need to be matched or completed, only complimented.

 I’ll end this entry, as I so often do, with gratitude. Thank you to the men who have challenged me, made me uncomfortable, and revealed to me my weaknesses. You showed me where to focus my energy for growth, to examine my needs and how I meet them, and to find humor in the most frustrating and embarrassing situations. Thank you to the men who have overstepped my boundaries, so I could build them back up even stronger and more clearly defined than before. Thank you to the men who rejected me, let me down, or humiliated me. You reminded me to stand on my own two feet and be proud of who I am, regardless of your judgments. Thank you to the sisters who were there to listen to, hold, advise, and encourage me each time I was confused or disappointed by my romantic attachments. Thank you to the women who stand strong in their own power; you are my inspiration and affirmation. Thank you to the sisters still struggling with their own identity and self-esteem. You remind me to have compassion, for you and for myself (where I’ve come from and where I sometimes regress to). You cue me to reflect on what I’ve learned, and to speak my truth in a way that could help you on your path. Thank you to the two-spirits, calling for a dissolution of these traditional boundaries of gender and the stereotyped ways we interact as male/female. And finally, thank you to myself (and my Self) for facing this process head-on, with eyes wide open. I promise to seek always to love you and find value in you. Remind me to stay centered and be compassionate. Help me to live fully and authentically.