#because i cannot imagine growing up with ur family telling u to ur FACE that u are ugly and like . belittling u for everything

[sorrinslays]

More about the Belobog Roleswap AU

So, I decided to make this post because of @lesbianbootheng. Specifically, their reblog right here:

#hsr#role swap au#op i hope u know much i enjoy those aus and the fact u made one is So Cool to me#pls tell me u have more ideas bc dude? i’d love to hear em#and i hope ur comfy w/ me adding some ideas myself bc this sounds soo fucking cool dude like wtf#love the idea of clara and hook being assistants to the silvermane guards that’s so cool <3 it fits them surprisingly well#ALSO THE FUCKING NERD PELA BEING PART OF THE FIGBT CLUB?? idk that’s so funny to me idk why LMFAO#oleg being luka’s father is rlly cute i love that <3 my HEARTT#also svorg being slowly being aaprt of the landau family by serval fixing him and they start to consider each other as the other loved ones#serval is still a musician i hope she’d just be one of those underground artists (literally haha)#also love the fact cocolia/serval r a thing in this au that makes me so happy u don’t understand :3#their yuri is NOT doomed after all :3#also… bc this is a roleswap au imagine bronya as the new supreme guardian… can u see it?#how do u think she’d act as leader?#sampo + bronya would DEF need to reign her in haha#also. do u think geppie sees sampo interacting w/ hook/clara & thinks of lynx & wants to sob when he’s separated#bc I DO. i so fucking do

So here's some more insight on the lives of the characters!

Gepard

He has this rule he set for himself that he doesn't steal from the less fortunate, guards and children. Those he does frequently steal from are nobles and since he used to be one (technically still is) he knows the obsolete worst ones. Sometimes, when he learns something particularly bad, he leaves an "anonymous" tip in Sampo's office.

He tried to grow a side business out of selling flowers. Since he's not a guard he has way more time to actually engage in his hobby, unlike his OG counterpart, he can actually keep a plant alive. However the business sadly didn't end up working out.

He does have "disguises" so he can get groceries without being chased around, although they are all kind of terrible. He doesn't know jackshit about makeup so he relies on hiding his face instead (hats, masks, sunglasses and the like). Almost all of Belobog knows this but they just kinda don't bother him cause the disguise is so bad it's sad.

Whenever Clara and Hook see Gepard in his "disguise" they try to get Sampo to arrest him cause "it's literally the guy you chase everyday, he's right here, just get him!!!!!" only for Sampo to pretend not to recognize him. Gepard goes through all five stages of grief whenever this happens.

He has accidently bumped into Luka sneaking into the restricted zone on numerous occasions and both kept it secret. They have even fought together in secret.

There are rumours of the "Phantom Shielder" amongst the guards, which is just Gepard. He keeps trying to help in the snow plains, since he feels guilty for adding to the workload of the guards by committing crimes. He believes it to the least he could do.

He is a supplier of automaton parts and the like for Oleg. Luka has a sneaking suspicion that's the case but since it's Gepard's most legitimate business venture, he doesn't bother reporting it. Oleg is, like, the closest thing Gepard has to a father figure.

Sampo

As the Captain, he rarely has time to relax alone and anytime he does have the time he spends it in the far away snow plains looking for medicine for Cocolia. He sneaks away when he's supposed to be doing paperwork. Or he "loses track of time and stays on patrol for longer periods".

He has made deals with pharmacists all around Belobog, asking for "defect medicine" that cannot be sold to the public (because of such things as a wrongly colored bottle, wrong print, a small cracks etc.). Basically, he collects it without telling the pharmacists where it actually goes. They don't really question him and he brings it to Cocolia.

He has a house near the restricted zone, not because he wants to be "closer to the actions" as he tells people, but so that he can have more alone time. You need a good reason to be anywhere near the restricted zone or you have to sneak in, so his apartment is like a safe haven to him.

He doesn't have any tells when lying, contrary to popular belief. He has fake ones that he uses to trick Natasha. She believes him to be a bad liar because of this.

Anytime he has free time (which is not all that often) he is surrounded by children anywhere he goes. If you hear manic giggling across the streets you know Sampo has a day off. He will have at least two kids around him at all times and the parents have to practically peel them away from him.

Sometimes, whenever he spots Hook bothering Gepard while he's "in his disguise" he walks over and chats with Gepard just to fuck with him. It's incredibly entertaining watching the poor guy squirm as his voice cracks in ten different ways.

He actually knows if Luka sneaked in and disguised himself as a guard because there's a standard hair length soldiers in the restricted zone have to have that Luka does not follow. He never mentions it, just let's him do whatever since he believes Luka to be capable enough. He does like ordering him around just to fuck with him, seeing Luka flinch and do anything without making a sound or "deepening his voice" so that Sampo "doesn't recognize him" is very funny to him.

Luka

As much as he hates paperwork, he's infuriatingly good at it. So he's probably staying an intelligence officer for a long while. Seele told him as much after a meeting with Natasha. He had begged Seele to bring up his situation, arguing that he's healed now and can go back to the front lines. Seele, true to her word, did mention him, but Natasha shout down any conversation about him, stating he's "too useful as an intelligence officer".

He used to have a small crush on Sampo. He was impressed by his fighting and was asking the Captain for a spar for weeks before the other agreed. It's still unknown if he still harbors that crush. The crush doesn't necessary have to romantic, it's honestly up for interpretation.

He attends every funeral, celebration and memorial held in honor of the Silvermane Guards. It's based on respect but also a little bit of guilt on his part. He believes that if he hadn't lost his arm, he would've still been in the front lines and he could've stopped some of the death that happened in the snow plains.

Whenever he is cooped up in his office for long periods of times, Clara and Hook are tasked (by Sampo, as their "superior") to get him out. Usually, they steal an important document and have him chase them all over the city. By the time he gets back, the day is over and he is ordered to go home and rest.

During his days off, he helps Oleg around the workshop. Oleg has tried to reassure Luka many times before that he doesn't need to keep helping, although all of them were in vain.

He has tried getting new hobbies to distract himself, and one that he enjoyed more than he thought he would was crocheting and knitting. He made matching scarfs for Clara and Hook and Seele called him a granny. He challenged her to a spar after that (he lost).

Whenever Luka and Gepard sneak into the snow plains together, they get into "competitions". Basically, they try to kill more fragmentum than the other. Usually, it's a tie or one of them winning by a small precent (like one or two more kills).

Natasha

Just like every other Supreme Guardian, she graduated in history. Although that's the case, she was always fascinated by human biology and the structure of the human body. She became even more interested after she met a man by the name of Vache, who told her he wanted to make a medicine specifically for people to be able to survive the bitter cold. After Cocolia banished Vache to the snow plains, Natasha brought him to Qlipoth Fort. He is still alive, even after the Astral Express' visit.

She really likes teddy bears, they used to be the only emotional support she had back when she was first selected to be the future Supreme Guardian. She had shared this information with Oleg, and since they used to be very close back in the academy, a lot of her stuffed toys were left at Oleg's place. So their absence during the Stellaron's manipulation helped her spiral quicker.

Vache lives in the lab of Qlipoth Fort and he is, basically, Stellaron 2.0. Since he also believes the Stellaron, he tries to pressure Natasha into following its plan. Natasha, isolated from any actually healthy influences, gives in and soon orders that result in more deaths than victories follow.

She and Oleg used to be very close, to the point that they even grew flowers together and used to babysit children together as a way to gain a little something something on the side. Whenever Luka reports to her, she asks about Oleg and how he's doing, every time she asks she has a wishful expression on her face.

Natasha was actually very suspicious of Sampo in the beginning, after all, before he joined the Silvermane Guards she hasn't heard a thing about him. She remained suspicious of him even after years, until the end of the Belobog arc. When he first made waves, she researched every little thing about him.

Oleg adopted Luka after his break up with Natasha, so when she first saw his last name she cried. She genuinely thought that she had missed a wedding or something.

Doctor handwriting. Even in another universe she couldn't escape the illegible doctor handwriting curse.

Seele

Used to go to the same elementary, middle and high school together with Luka. He was just a year or two younger than her. As a kid, she used to think he was okay, then during middle school she found him annoying and now it's a mix of two. However, he's probably the closest thing she has to a best friend and it's the person she trusts the most outside of Natasha.

She focuses a lot of her combat abilities. Since Natasha doesn't let her go on too many missions and she's not aware she's supposed to be the next Supreme Guardian (she is under the impression that she is just Natasha's adopted daughter) she doesn't think about the political situation or strategies all that much. She much prefers fighting the fragmentum.

Although technically she has a higher position than Sampo, whenever she gets overzealous during training or pushes herself too hard, she'll "be put in time out" by Sampo. Basically, she will be training and Hook and Clara pop out of nowhere, telling her how it's "time for a break, or else Sampo will put you in time out". She always tries to get out of it because she finds it stupid, but honestly dealing with Hook and Clara is a challenge in it of itself, so, unfortunately for her, Sampo's tactic works annoyingly well.

At first, she was struggling a lot in school, specifically with writing. When Natasha first caught wind of this, she sat down with Seele and they spent a whole evening just writing and Natasha helping Seele with school work.

For almost her whole life, Natasha and Oleg were together, so when Natasha turned distant and they broke up, she basically lost her parent. She visits Oleg's workshop every now and then, but they definitely aren't as close as they used to be. Now, unfortunately for her, the closest thing she has in her life that actively acts like a father figure is Sampo.

She regularly makes bets with soldiers in the front lines. Like, "oh, I bet Kyle can't headshot five fragmentum in a row". In general she is very friendly with them. Natasha is not a fan of that.

Luka asks her for a spar session almost any time he sees her. While it "annoys" her, she find comfort in the fact that she can tell him mood easily like that. She knows that if he's just fired up he gonna ask one or two times and if he feels bad for whatever reason, he's gonna be more persuasive.

Oleg

To him, the Neverwinter workshop was something that would've happened one way or another. He always knew that at some point he would own a workshop, however, what he didn't expect was how soon it would happen. He imagined opening it in his late forties - early fifties after passing his Stellaron research to a younger researcher. He never expected to have the nasty break up with Natasha and getting kicked out of the Silvermanes like that.

A side hobby he picked up after losing his job as a researcher was sketching. Whenever the workshop goes through a slow period with no customers or any work to do, people can find him outside, sketching whatever he sees.

When Luka lost his arm, he was devastated. He was so scared for his son he soot out Natasha, asking if she can find a better position for Luka that doesn't endanger him so much. Although he feels guilty for taking the choice from Luka, he also prefers feeling guilty with a son than feeling guilty without a son.

Back when Luka used to be in the frontlines, he wanted to meet his superior (Sampo) just to be sure that the Captain was capable. His first impression of Sampo wasn't a positive one, but after hearing about his achievements in battle, anecdotes from other guards, seeing Luka's admiration of him and seeing him around the street playing with the kids, he backed off.

He still misses Seele, even though technically she's not his kid. Even though that's the case, he still makes sure to prepare birthday gifts for her and congratulate her on any achievements.

He teaches Hook and Clara the basics of engineering. Every week he dedicates two hours for them. It's actually one of his favorite past times cause it livens up the place and reminds him of back when Luka and Seele used to be kids.

He still thinks about his research, specifically the Stellaron. He really wants to continue studying it and oftentimes thinks about it. He has a lot of theories about it but can't test any of them out.

Cocolia

She met Serval when the Landaus first moved to the Underground. While all the siblings have a positive opinion of her and they generally get along well, she and Serval clicked almost instantly. Serval helped her a lot with the orphanage, then with the clinic and finally with Wildfire.

Even though the Underground's atmosphere is pretty depressing, Cocolia tries her best make it more homey, warm and, in general, uplift the people. There's a reason why the people of the Underworld trust her with more than just medical issues.

One of her attempts to make the Underworld more welcoming was plants. Although most of them require sunlight, she got Sampo to look for ones that can survive without it. And just like that the Underworld is full of plants (as much as it can be). Unfortunately not all parts of the Underworld have a flourishing flora, the unlivable parts (thanks to the fragmentum) don't have any.

While she is a doctor and a healer is general, if it comes down to it, she can hold her own in battle. She uses a bass guitar when fighting, the one that in the original Serval broke during her companion quest.

She and Bronya have a very strong bond. They spend hours talking about different ways to optimize Wildfire. Serval helps with that too, either as the face of Wildfire or by suggesting ways to update equipment or create new weapons. Whenever Sampo is present, his input is asked as well, although he mostly helps with strategizing and ways to get rid of the fragmentum.

The hardest choice she had to make was exile Vache. She was conscious of his downward spiral when he started obsessing over blizzard immunity but the human experimentation was kept a secret from her until Lynx mentioned hearing something about it. Needless to say when she found out she was heartbroken.

She is well liked by all the children, and she always has some sort of candy on her desk. It's either for children who are being treated or, at the end of each day, the most behaved kid gets two.

Bronya

Although she didn't go to school, she knows the basics thanks to Cocolia and Serval. So now, her favorite hobby is reading. She has read as many books as she could get her hands on. Anytime she sees Sampo, she asks him to deliver her a book or two.

While she is part of Wildfire and she does fight against the fragmentum under Serval's command, whenever fragmentum activity is low, she is seen helping around Cocolia's clinic. While is mostly acts as a nurse following Cocolia's orders, she is still very skilled, to the point that other nurses sometimes call her "Cocolia 2.0".

She has learned the basics of engineering from Serval. It's a skill that comes in handy more often than not, from fixing up children's toys to helping fix equipment that was broken by the fragmentum.

The kids love her too. Whenever they get into trouble the first person they go to is Bronya due to her "not being an adult" (she is, she is just the youngest one working in the clinic so they assume she's still a teenager).

She has heard a lot about Gepard, but she has never actually met him since she wasn't adopted back when the Underworld and Overworld weren't separated. Despite this, she feels as if she had known him forever because of how often Serval and Lynx mention him. As if he's still here, with them.

She and Pela are good friends. Thanks to her, Bronya got into the Tales of the Winterlands. That series got her to wish to one day go to the topside and see the snow plains for herself. It's a wish she holds close to her heart.

She is close to Lynx as well, they spend a lot of time together due to her being the little sister of Serval. The two of them started reading Tales of the Winterlands together thanks to Pela and both of them loved it. They have spent hours talking about what they want to do in the Overworld.

Pela

She is a very important part of Wildfire not only because of her strength but also because of her great investigation skills and data collection. Thanks to her, Wildfire is not only able to catch troublemakers but also because she could predict future fragmentum activity based on the data she managed to collect.

She was the one who investigated Vache when Cocolia first heard of the rumours. She had come to Pela as a friend, asking for help, not as part of Wildfire. Pela accepted to look into it for free, and gave it her all. Let's just say the investigation wasn't all that pleasant.

She has created a fake identity that she uses to bet on herself. She is very strategic about it too. If she wins too many bets, she makes sure to stage a few loses to keep the attention away from her fake identity. She has made bank with that strategy.

Moreover, the reason she is still technically in debt is because the person she owes to is in the Overworld, so she had no way to reach him and she can't ask Sampo for help. She has a small box in her apartment that is the payment to her debt. She's not sure if there's any extra payment due to being late (although it's not really her fault) but just in case she keeps some extra shield.

Her closest friend is Lynx, they hang out together anytime Lynx isn't with Svarog. There's moments were they don't talk, Lynx just shows her picture as they cuddle on Pela's sofa and that's probably their favorite activity. However, anytime Lynx is in a talkative mood, the two of them theorize on what Gepard is doing in the Overworld.

She preforms in Mechanical Fever with Serval. It's a way for her to gain an additional income while hanging out with her friends (Serval, Lynx and sometimes Cocolia (when she's not busy with Wildfire and the clinic, which is pretty rare)). She is a drummer, her drumsticks are handmade and very sturdy (build by Serval) and she uses them when fighting as well.

She participates in a lot of food completions (like eating all 5 crabs that are in the game), but her favorites are the ones with spicy food. She and Serval were the ones with the biggest rivalry in a spice tolerance competition.

Serval

When she and her siblings first moved into the Underworld, they could only afford a one-bedroom apartment. She and Lynx shared the bedroom and Gepard slept in the living room. Soon, after Cocolia formed Wildfire, Serval go the opportunity to move. Now, she lives with Cocolia in a four-bedroom apartment, one for her and Cocolia, two bedrooms for Lynx and Bronya and the last one for Gepard.

While she is part of Wildfire, she also has her own "workshop" which is just her "experimentations" on automatons. She wants to create truly sturdy ones that can handle the fragmentum so that people don't have to risk their lives (and to also win in automaton fights shhh!!!!!).

While she doesn't like Svarog, she still helps him fix up a few things here and there, although she doesn't approve of the way they run their part of the Underworld she understands that he is an important ally. Plus, she gets access to better tools/materials.

She is still the lead singer/guitarist in Mechanical Fever. Most of her songs are about hope and a brighter future, it's her way of helping uplift the people of the Underworld. She is the most popular artist in the Underworld because of this.

When Sampo first arrived to the Underworld, she asked him about Gepard. More specifically, how he's been, if Sampo knows anything about him (whereabouts, health and the like). While he answered her questions, she asked if he could bring Gepard down, but he said "not yet". He did give her other reasons as well, but the "not yet" stuck with her.

Whenever Bronya and her go for patrols or missions together, they just talk. Like, they do get the work down, but they have insanely good coordination skills and synergy together that it's a breeze for them so it works more as a bonding moment rather than work.

The one taking care of most plants in the Underworld is Serval because they remind her a lot of Gepard and his love for plant life. On especially lonely nights she imagines his reaction to seeing how much the Underworld has changed since last time he was there.

Lynx

The reason Lynx got so attached to Svarog was because he possessed a lot of knowledge about the outside world and he could answer a lot of her questions. He once even showed her a projection of how the aurora looks back in the snow plains.

Before meeting Svarog she had tried to go to the surface to, one, find Gepard and, two, to see the Overworld once more. She went pretty far, but she couldn't unlock the Furnace Core, so she had to leave before Svarog found her.

She once confided in Pela that she doesn't remember Gepard's face, that it's very blurry for her and that she feels very guilty about it. She is frustrated because she does care about him and Serval always gets a sad distant look when he's brought up, but whenever she is trying to imagine the three of the reuniting, she can't picture it.

She has tried reasoning with Svarog on multiple occasions, but the robot never changes his mind. She still hasn't lost hope whatsoever. After all, her dream, aside from reuniting with Gepard, is to visit the snow plains.

She knows basic engineering thanks to both Serval and Svarog. Although she is not very interested in it. She prefers learning about the outside world much more, but it's useful information so she doesn't argue.

Whenever she wants to get a few extra shield, she goes to the fight club to bet on Pela. If she is not participating, she follows Pela's betting advice. She almost always wins, but that's because she doesn't visit the club that often.

When she met Sampo, she had asked for pictures of the snow plains, since she learned he fights the fragmentum there. He obliged and now she has a whole pin board dedicated to those pictures in her room.

Hook and Clara

The two of them are a very big deal in their school. They brag that THE Captain of the Silvermane Guards has them as "assistants". At first, the other kids didn't believe them when Hook said that they work for Sampo until he comes pick them up from school one day (Fersman was busy).

While the two of them have their separate bedrooms, every night they have "sleepovers" which is basically them sleeping together in each other's bedrooms. On Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays they sleep in Hook's room and on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays they sleep in Clara's room. On Sundays they play rock paper scissors to decide where the sleepover will be.

Seele had to explain to them on multiple occasions that they are not official Silvermane Guards. Hook refuses to listen and Clara is just confused. Both insist that they are cause "uncle Sampo told us we are under his command!!!!!!!!! You're just jealous your boss isn't as cool as ours!!!!!"

While they get a lot out of following Sampo's orders, they are still not allowed in the restricted zone. They don't get it, and Sampo dances around the issue, ordering them to do things outside it like bringing lunch to Luka or something.

Both of them are really scared of Natasha. They've seen her once or twice in public appearances and whenever they bumped into her in Qlipoth Fort, and while at first she seems nice, something about her scares them. Most of the time whenever they see her they run to hide either behind Sampo or Fersman or Luka.

Once, Sampo had an infiltration mission but Hook and Clara kept wanting to hang out with them. Sampo noticed Gepard in his terrible disguise and told them to follow him. They ended up pestering Gepard all day instead.

Anytime there's a disagreement between them they solve it with a game of rock paper scissors. Even when doing homework. If one of them got a 7 as an answer while the other got a 100 they play rock paper scissors and list the answer as whatever the winner got.

[goldstolen]

not to be on my zen bullshit but the way he without fail , adores mc in every route . how he’s always so quick to stand up for her and defend her and just ... “she doesn’t have bad intentions, i know it” and i just like 2 think that stems from his childhood specifically the part where his mother refused to believe him on all fronts and associated his looks = bad behavior and told zen he was the reason for everything going wrong in his life nd i just like 2 think that bc zen knows how that feels - to be accused of smth u haven’t ever done - is one of the driving reasons why he’s so quick to protect mc . but also bc he genuinely likes her and knew from the very first conversation that she was a good person

[ghostdrew22]

angst fic where ravenclaw!reader has thalassophobia and is playing with the water by the shore in the dark lake with the necklace draco gave her before they broke up a few years back when the new girl he’s been going out with throws the necklace into the middle of the lake in spite, and the reader cannot afford to lose it djeiwis sorry if it’s messy u dont have to do it ure uncomfyyy

Prompts:

If you die, I’m going to kill you.

Jump In || Draco Malfoy

Requested: Yes Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader Warnings: ANGST, a bit of swearing, panic attacks and thalassophobia mentioned. Summary: Years after breaking up with Draco you find that the last gift he gave you is still the only thing comforting you, and his new girlfriend doesn’t like that.

WORDS : 3546

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

The crescent moon outside begs for your company and you oblige, preferring to be alone than stuck in a room full of people who pity you. You lift the bottom half of your dress from the ground and sneak out of the ballroom nonchalantly, anxiety dissipating as the soft breeze comes in contact with your face.

The sound of your heels clacking against the cobblestone fills the air as you walk toward the boardwalk hanging above the lake, and it reminds you of a time when Draco would bring you down here. The lake behind the Malfoy Manor has always been subject to your fear, and you rarely ever go toward it, but tonight you’ll do almost anything to feel alone and normal for once.

The tiny ripples forming on the surface send shivers running down your spine and you look up at the sky immediately in an attempt to subdue your anxiety. A few meters away lies the ballroom, full of dignitaries and old family friends of the Malfoy’s who attend their annually ball every time without fail, and you can hear the faint sound of laughter mixed with a beautiful crescendo. You shut your eyes, take a deep breath and drag your fingers up to your neck to toy with necklace lying around it, as you try to imagine that you’re anywhere else.

You’d thought that it would be easier, coming to the ball and seeing him with his new girlfriend, but it had proved to be a bigger challenge than you’d anticipated, and residual feelings that you’d been trying to stuff down for months had resurfaced like anchors being pulled up from the bottom of the sea. It reminded you of what he said that day, “I’m yours forever, even if you’re not mine.”, and the only thing that stopped you from running back into his arms was the chain hanging around your neck.

A silver chain with a midnight blue sapphire dangling on its end, worth one of your arms and a gift from the blond himself. He had given it to you as a promise, one to love you till the sun stopped rising, and at the time you had thought that it was the perfect gesture. But reality hit and you soon realized that a life with Draco Malfoy would be one filled with envy and uneasiness, and you knew then that you both deserved more.

The necklace’s monetary value reminds you that Draco belongs to a long and esteemed family line which demands attention that you cannot cope with. But the fact that it had been his proclamation of love reminds you that in order for you both to lead happy lives, you must be apart. The way it gleams beneath Chandeliers is so captivating that it always brings you back to earth; a life with Draco is inviting, but some invitations mustn’t be accepted.

But I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you

All eyes instantly fell on him the second that he appeared; sporting that notorious smile which always brought people to their knees, and a priceless suit that hugged his figure so well it made all the straight men positively envious. A true Malfoy; charming, rich, attractive, easily the whole package. You didn’t get a chance to speak with him because he was instantly preoccupied with the ramblings of his mother as she dragged him around the room with pride, showing off the son that she’d done such a good job at raising.

Draco’s life had always been politics and he’d been raised to invariably stand tall, look presentable, get good grades, converse well. You watched him in awe every time, admiring the grace and ease with which he conducted himself. But it made you wonder when he’d been taught the art of letting the spotlight go, to focus all of his attention on the one he loves instead of the search for approval. And the answer was that he hadn’t, Draco never grew out of the desire to have everyone’s praise and approval.

‘If everyone loves you, if everyone wants to either be you or be with you, then you’ve succeeded.’ He’d told you late one night after one these balls. You’d looked at him with pity, not having the heart to tell him that love and validation are not synonymous, and you’d hugged him so hard that somehow you both knew it was all coming to an end soon.

He grew up being a magnet to both jealousy and admiration, a symphony of applause being the background track to the movie of his life, and he didn’t know how to live any other way. When all you’ve ever known is lustful stares from fellow peers, stolen glances at the back of your head, and unbridled acclaim masked behind attraction, then it’s hard to put that life behind and settle for the love of only one person.

Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion, double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

He truly was magnificent though, even you couldn’t deny. Years ago, when he’d walked down the stairs in one of those clad black suits, he had met you at the bottom of the stairwell and you could’ve sworn that you were floating on cloud 9. He had smiled so brightly at the sight of you, had laughed so sweetly in the space of your ear, and fit so tightly into your side like it was a home made only for him, that you were intoxicated on the feeling of him and hadn’t noticed what was happening.

You were falling in love. You weren’t flying, no, you didn’t have wind beneath mystical wings that you’d somehow managed to grow. You were falling, and at a speed so treacherous that you didn’t even realise it was happening until it was too late. One day you were falling, and the next you were ruins buried so far into the ground that you couldn’t even tell where the earth stopped and you started.

Falling in love with him was fast, like a bullet train, but everything after was so slow that you felt as if you weren’t even moving at all.

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominos I see me padding 'cross your wooden floors With my Eagles t-shirt hanging from the door At dinner parties, I call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we wandered 'round had never seen a love as pure as it And then it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it could never be

Promises to run away together and start a life somewhere off in a distant town.

Fingertips, laced with the narcotic effect of young love, tracing lines across the expanse of each other’s faces and trying to figure out which of the other’s features would be inherited by your children.

Dreams about a time when your lives would no longer be dictated by the paths your parents had set out for you, but instead by the spontaneity and reassurance that came with endearment.

Tastes of tea replaced instead with the taste of each other as long-forgotten tisanes made home on bedside tables because you both got lost in the haze of tenderness.

Arguments about mundane and useless concepts that would go on for longer than necessary, because he insisted on disagreeing with everything, and always ended with your acute responses.

Lives that had once lacked passion, that had once been so dull they compared to Snape’s drawling, instead replaced with all the colours that the world had to offer.

It was the perfect life, the one you two had planned.

But it was too perfect to ever be real.

You take a deep breath and unhook the necklace to observe it once more, hoping that it’ll provide some comfort for the ache in your chest.

'Cause I don't like a gold rush, gold rush I don't like anticipating my face in a red flush I don't like that anyone would die to feel your touch Everybody wants you Everybody wonders what it would be like to love you Walk past, quick brush I don't like slow motion double vision in rose blush I don't like that falling feels like flying 'til the bone crush Everybody wants you But I don't like a gold rush

“Y/N.” A voice slurs behind you.

You turn with furrowed eyebrows and roll your eyes when you see who it is, “Pansy.”

“Don’t be rude.” She hisses and hiccups as she stumbles toward you, “What are you doing out here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.” You narrow your eyes at her, “Are you drunk?”

“Just a tad.” She replies as she hiccups again and finally stands before you. You watch silently as she gracefully sits on the wood below her, making sure not to create creases in her dress or fall over in her heels.

“Shouldn’t you be in there? On his arm like a trophy?” You ask, and inwardly groan when you hear how jealous you sound.

“Probably.” She shrugs and looks out into the water. “It doesn’t matter though, I’m not you.”

She looks up and into your eyes, you look away immediately. “I don’t know what I’m supposed to take from that.”

“Yes, you do.” She states bluntly, “He told me why you left him. That was really selfish of you.”

You gasp and turn to look at her, “How dare you? You have no idea-“

“No, actually, I do.” She gets up from the ground swiftly as a fire rages in her eyes, “You think I don’t know what it’s like to be like him? We’re the same, we were practically raised on the same blueprint. Despite what you think, there’s a lot more to the issue than what lays on the surface.”

“Oh and I guess you have all the answers?” You spit out with a scoff.

“I thought Ravenclaws were meant to be smart.” She shakes her head and hiccups as she turns to face the water, “Draco’s entire life has always just been this.” Pansy turns and gestures toward the Manor with a grimace.

“It’s always been about being the best in the room, just so that he can earn five seconds of approval from his parents. But you came, and you showed him more, you gave him a glimpse of what love feels like. Then, because you were scared and couldn’t hack it, you left him.” She continues and you grip the necklace tightly in anger.

“That’s not what happene-“

“How can you possibly expect him to come back to me, to this bullshit, when he’s experienced actual happiness? How is he supposed to come back from you?” She finally turns to face you and you hear a slight crack in her voice with the last words, “I love him so much and if I could make him half as happy as you do then I would.”

“You can.” You breathe out shakily, “If you two try a little more then you’ll realise why it just makes sense.”

“Love isn’t about sense Y/N. It’s not about appearances, it’s not about applause, it’s not about any of the crap that him and I were raised to prioritize.”

“You call it crap but that’s all he knows, and he just isn’t ready to give it all up.”

“Why do you get to decide that for him?” She tilts her head to the side and raises her eyebrows, you look away from her.

“I should probably get back inside.” You mutter as you start to turn toward the manor.

“You’re righ-“ She gasps and you turn to see what’s shocked her, “You still have it?”

“Have what?”

“The necklace.” She points to your hand and you nod awkwardly in agreement, “I helped him pick it out.”

“Oh.”

“A sapphire to match your virtue and faithfulness.” She says absent-mindedly as her eyes lock on the piece of jewellery. “Guess he got that wrong.”

She laughs coldly and you scrunch your face in confusion, “Excuse me?”

“You’re just like the rest of them.” Before you even know what’s happening she’s reached for the necklace in your hand, “You love him until it’s no longer convenient, until the paint starts to chip.”

“That’s not true.” Your voice comes out shaky and lacking conviction, it makes her laugh again in disgust.

“And then who has to pick up the fallen pieces? Me.” She continues to ramble as she walks toward the edge of the boardwalk, you feel your breathing start to pickup as you try to focus on her instead of the lake behind her. “As if I don’t have my own pieces to pick up.”

“Pansy, please just come here so we can talk about this nicely.” You respond and swallow.

“No. You don’t deserve a civil conversation.” She spits out as she finally reaches the edge of the boardwalk and hangs the necklace out by her arm, “In fact, you don’t deserve anything. You don’t deserve his love and you definitely don’t deserve this pendant.”

“No!”

What must it be like to grow up that beautiful? With your hair falling into place like dominoes My mind turns your life into folklore I can't dare to dream about you anymore

Everything after falling in love with Draco happened in slow motion. You don’t know how, or when, but your life had become a slackening slideshow of bad decisions.

You hold your breath as you watch the necklace fall into the lake. It’s as though minutes, hours, days pass in that moment, but you know that it’s merely a few seconds. When the splash finally sounds, you let out a huge gasp and Pansy laughs as she turns to leave.

Panic sets in and you start to contemplate your options. You could jump in and get it yourself? No, that’s absurd, you’re not going to overcome your fear that easily. You could rush into the manor and find someone who’s willing to get it for you? No, no one would take you seriously.

You shake your head and decide to just do the easiest thing; try and work up the courage to get it yourself. You start to pull off your heels and scrunch up your dress so that you can step into the water and you walk toward the edge of the boardwalk.

But as soon as you’re near the water you realise that you can’t do it and your panic rapidly worsens. You step back a few paces before falling to the ground and pulling your head into your knees as silent sobs begin to shake your core.

Breaths, in rapid beats, are going to and from your lungs as the sound of the water swishing fills your ears. Nausea begins to set in your stomach as you think more and more about your terrible predicament, your fear of bodies of water and your sadness at losing the necklace combining to form one indestructible lump in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N? Are you out here?” A voice calls out from a yard or two away and you try to recognize it, but everything is foggy in your state of trepidation.

“Shit, Y/N!” The voice calls out once more and you hear footsteps pick up to a run as the person approaches you. “I swear to Merlin, if you die I’m going to kill you!”

You realise that the person still hasn’t noticed you, and is probably assuming the worst, so you try your best to croak out a word- any word.

“Here.” You manage to rasp out between sobs and wheezes, and the person immediately runs toward you.

“Y/N? Are you okay?” They ask as they pull your head out from your knees and you try to nod slowly.

You blink back a few tears and try to focus on the face in front of you, “The- the-“ You try to say and shake your head of the confusion as the words refuse to formulate.

“Hey, breathe princess.”

You recognize the nickname and then soon enough your eyes register that Draco’s kneeling in front of you. “Draco?”

“Yes, it’s me.” He responds softly as he cups your face in his hands and tries to wipe a few of your tears, “Take a few deep breaths for me, yeah?”

You nod and do as told, breathing until you finally calm down and manage to think clearly again. “I’m okay.” You breathe out and he sighs in relief.

“I was so worried, Pansy came in rambling about getting back at you and something about tossing and water- And I was just so scared that she’d thrown you in or something, because I know that you can’t swim and you’re terrified of the lake so I-“

“Hey, slow down, I’m okay. I’m right here.” You respond and manage a weak smile. He nods and sighs again. “She didn’t toss me into the water, though I think she would’ve liked to. She threw in the necklace. Shit! The necklace, it’s still down there!” You exclaim as you try to stand up but find that your legs are asleep, and end up coming back down instantly.

“Calm down. What necklace?”

“The one you gave me, the one with the sapphire that you said was a family heirloom?” You ramble and he furrows his eyebrows.

“You still have that?”

“Yes, I do. And it’s at the bottom of the lake and I need to get it back!” You stand up and Draco immediately does the same, placing his hands on your shoulders to keep you still.

“It’s just a necklace Y/N, you don’t need it.”

“It’s not just a necklace, it’s-“ You pinch your nose and sigh, “It just means a lot to me, okay?”

He narrows his eyebrows but nods in understanding, “Okay.” He steps back from you and pulls off his suit jacket, looking absolutely magnificent with his toned shoulders showing beneath the well-fitted shirt.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m going to get it for you.” He shrugs and you shake your head.

“You don’t have to, I can figure something out.”

“You tried to figure it out and you had a full on panic attack, I’m the best option.” He says sternly as he looks at you and you nod in agreement, “Now just wait, very far away, and let me find it for you.”

“Thank you.” You call out behind him but he doesn’t respond.

At dinner parties I won't call you out on your contrarian shit And the coastal town we never found will never see a love as pure as it 'Cause it fades into the gray of my day old tea 'Cause it will never be

“Here you go, in perfect condition.” He says as he drops the necklace into your hands and runs a hand through his hair. He looks gorgeous and you look down to avoid getting lost in his eyes.

“Your suit is wet.” You mumble with a sniff and he chuckles, the sound makes your heart race.

“We have magic, I’ll dry up.”

“Thank you.” You whisper as you finally look up at him and he smiles, that same hypnotic smile. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without it.”

“It’s just a necklace Y/N.” He smiles softly and you shake your head as tears begin to stream down your face again.

“No, it’s not just a necklace.” You sniff, “It’s you and I. It’s all that I have left of the love that we had, it’s all that I have left of the life we were going to build together.”

“Y/N.” The sternness in his voice makes you swallow hard, but you pull your hand up to indicate that you’re not done.

“Let me talk, please.” He nods and you continue, “This little gem is all the words that we never had the chance to say. It’s the nights we would’ve spent climbing into bed together, in our little house that’s tucked safely into a small town. It’s the cups of coffee I was going to make you when you woke up in the mornings, and the cups of tea you would’ve made me when we went to sleep. This little gem is the only thing I have to remind me that our love was real.”

“It also doesn’t hurt that it costs a fortune huh?” He asks with a grin, despite the fact that there’s sadness in his eyes, and you nod with a choked out laugh.

“Definitely a bonus.” You say as you laugh a little more and wipe away a few tears.

Draco pulls the necklace out of your hands and opens it to put it around your neck once again, and you turn around so he can put it on. “Look, Y/N, life is too short to fill up with ridiculous mistakes. You left me, like I never mattered to you, and it broke me.”

You turn back around quickly, “That wasn-“

He twists you back around abruptly, “Let me talk now.” You nod and he continues to hook the chain around your neck. “It took me months to decipher what you meant when you said that I had too much love for the spotlight, that I didn’t have the capacity to let it go. It took me months to finally grasp what you meant when you said that people fall at my feet, that my contrarian demeanor is a crowd-puller. And the recognition hurt, a lot, because I realised that you we right about most of it.”

You feel his fingers leave your neck as he places a soft kiss on your shoulder, “What was I wrong about?”

He pulls you back to face him and smiles as he looks down at you, “The only thing you were wrong about was my unwillingness to let it go.” He pulls you into his arms for a hug, and you sigh in his arms.

“You can’t just leave this life Draco, we both know it isn’t that simple.” You muffle into his chest and the vibrations of his chuckles make you smile.

“That’s where you’re wrong angel, I can just leave this life. You never gave me the option but,” You pull apart and he smiles so wide that you think his face might come apart, “I would give it all up, for you.”

Gleaming, twinkling Eyes like sinking ships on waters So inviting, I almost jump in

His eyes are shining as they look down at you with adoration and commitment, and it takes all the strength you have left inside to not pull him back into your arms. He brings his fingers up to the sapphire and rubs his thumb along it.

“It’s not all you have Y/N.” He pulls your chin up so you look him in the eyes, “I’m still right here.”

~~~

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~~~

hi lovies! guess who’s finally feeling good enough to write again! :) we’re going to ignore the fact that the FOOLWAG sequel is beating my ass though

I will not lie, I had a great time writing this, possibly one of my favourite requests by far. I was originally going to make the ending angsty but I figured  @evermoreeve (thx sweetie<3) reminded me that we all deserve a happy ending now and then.

anyway, i love you all,

jean <3

[mirrorforevers]

here, there, and everywhere • graham coxon/reader

this fic is based on two prompts y'all sent me:

and

this fic really tested all of my blur knowledge holy Fuck. blur as talking heads au i guess. how cool would it be if they

1. had a girl bassist instead of the cheese tory dude

2. werent as unhappy as they were in the mid 90s (just a bit)

3. were just a little 🤏🏻 bit more female friendly lets just pretend this is a universe where the blurjob passes didnt exist heh

it took me everything i had to make this sound as realistic as it could be. u know these girls who think they could fix patrick bateman or don draper? perhaps y’all could fix blur

consider this a gift n not only me writing for your prompt, @nottuned! thank u so much for all your support n encouragement n for always bein so sweet 🥺 i hope u enjoy reading it as much as i enjoyed writing it!

let’s see how many references to unfortunate britpop moments y’all can find in this

also i hope i captured the silliness of the gossip and drama in that era well. if you enjoyed it, please leave an ask telling me more! ur feedback is rly important to me 😔✊🏻

tw (?) reader has shitty parents

word count: 7.938 (this one's quite long!)

smut. set in the 90s. au.

You were unlocking your door when you heard your house phone ring. The shrill sound echoed through the empty corridors as you hurriedly unwrapped your scarf, tossing your keys and backpack on nearby furniture as you ran to answer the call.

“Hello?” You answer, panting.

“Y/N?”

“Dave?” You smile, that call was a very welcome surprise. Your friend owed you an answer.

-

A few weeks ago, Dave Rowntree, your music classmate who became a close friend, told you that he had teamed up with two other proficient musicians to form a band. Dave was ecstatic, and every day he had new stories about his new friends to tell you between breakfasts and lunches that you shared between the countless hours of rehearsals. Even though you weren't part of the group, you already felt that you knew Damon and Graham like the back of your hand. Yin and Yang. One was expansive, ambitious, vain, impulsive. The other, shy, introspective, anxious and careful.

Damon Albarn wanted to be an actor, Graham Coxon had a firm foot in the visual arts. One was a fan of grand classical compositions, the other was a Beatles fan. They had been friends since they were children, in a seemingly unbreakable bond. Damon dropped out of his theater class not only because out of a sudden he had found a bigger calling in music instead of acting, but also because he couldn't stand being away from his best friend for so long. You found yourself often imagining their faces and voices while trying to make all of the wild and endearingly funny stories Dave told you more tangible in your head.

It was not long before Dave started dropping little hints that they needed someone else for their project. “It’s not that Graham isn’t good at bass,” he’d say, “but we could do better.” It wasn't at the top of your plans to be part of a band right now, especially as you were preparing intensely to join the Royal Academy of Music, and he knew it. When you mentioned the conversations you had with Dave about the boys on your family dinner, in quiet wonder and timid want of being part of something really exciting, your parents wrinkled their noses. Focus on the greater things, they’d say. Don’t let these boys distract you from your goal.

Our goal, they meant to say. Since you were born, you never knew if the things you wanted were really your will or theirs.

But anyway.

That dynamic went on for a while, until the day Dave invited you to audition for them while you shared a Diet Coke in the tube home.

“Will it take too much of my time?” You asked, coyly.

“Bold of you to assume we’ll let you in that quickly.” He chuckles, amused by your confidence. You playfully elbow him in return. He knew how good you were at what you did, though, and there’s lightness in his tone when he continues, “But no, unless you let it. You’ll probably have to stand up to Damon every once in a while.” He sips the drink, handing it over to you.

“What about Graham? How much is he determined to make it big?”

“Damon’s the one who wants it the most. Graham’s studying Fine Arts at Goldsmiths, so. There’s still cautiousness in him.”

“Huh. Okay then.” You reply, thoughts running wild. “Do we have a time and date?”

“Is tomorrow ok to you?”

“Sure. After our class?”

“Perfect.” The train reaches his station. He ruffles your hair: “See you tomorrow then.”

“See you.”

You don’t tell anything about it to your parents, you just warn them that you’ll arrive a bit later than usual. Dave’s intel was crucial to your choice of songs: knowing Graham was the beatlemaniac and also the rational brake to Damon’s tireless ambition, you knew who to please and have as an ally, so you build an innovative and fresh mashup of Paul McCartney’s greatest basslines to play for them. Of course it could backfire, but you didn’t care. You had a hell of a good ear anyway and if Damon wanted you to play anything out of the blue, you would improvise beautifully over it.

The day comes. You didn’t know why you were that nervous for an amateur audition. You weren’t even sure if it was the right path to follow, given that, depending on how focused Damon really was and how contagious his aspiration was, being part of a band could really take you out of your predestinated course. The reason why you were so nervous, now thinking a little more about it, may be because deep inside, you want your path to be a little less predictable. You didn’t want to fill your heart with hopes that you might make it big and travel all over the world because you didn’t even know them. But… what if it clicks? You knew some people in the scene whose work was getting seriously recognized out there.

Meeting them for the first time was an enigmatic experience. Damon was incredibly brash and cocky - not the first theater kid you’ve met in your life. Graham was way more approachable, though also a bit conceited when pushed just right. You wondered if you’d fit in that boys’ club, and decided you wouldn’t be an easy target for discredit or any kind of shit they might give you. “Took me a while to fully get their trust. You’ll do just fine”, Dave said, out of their earshot.

That gave you more fuel to play amazingly well. Damon definitely wasn’t one to be impressed quickly, but he was, when you finished your set. So was Graham - Graham was starry eyed with your performance, actually. Albarn showed you a song and asked you if you could improvise to it, just as you imagined. Of course you could, on the first play. You even suggested some adjustments to its structure. Your feedback was welcomed and noted.

-

Even though everything went surprisingly well, you still weren't sure if you would be a member of “Seymour”, as they called themselves. (You knew it wasn’t the best name, but you didn’t have a better suggestion at the time so you’ve kept your opinion to yourself.) Graham became eerily quiet out of a sudden and wouldn’t cross eyes with you the entire time you were there. Damon, well, was Damon. Perhaps he thought you were too ordinary and mainstream for deciding to play Beatles when he’s trying to be the new avant-garde Jesus.

But Dave's news was different than you expected. “They really, really enjoyed your audition. As I thought they would.” You can hear the smile in his voice. "When can you rehearse with us?"

-

Months after, on your first gig as a fully formed and integrated band, Damon was hit in the face by a guy twice his size, Graham vomited onstage and you and Dave had to take care of both. A beautiful way to close the already exquisite day you had, after you fought with your parents, got kicked out of your childhood home and gave up on entering the Royal Academy of Music two days after you received your acceptance letter featuring rave reviews of your entrance exam.

Dealing with these boys - no, grown-ass men - was hard, but not completely unpleasant. If it were totally unpleasant, you wouldn’t give up on your entire life to embark on such an adventure.

You - plural you - were so gifted and Damon’s compositions were so good. You could see that artsy pretentious mess of an act going somewhere. Of course, you were a bit lost in your life, but so were they, as you ran from city to city meeting new people and trying new things in your journey to fame.

Loneliness, once a close friend, became a distant acquaintance. One you didn’t know anymore.

You confess you were getting worried, though, with how much money you had left on your savings and how much you were spending lately now that your parents weren’t an active part of your life. Wanting to eat something you cannot dream of buying without that money being really useful in a much more critical situation, not having nearly enough money to replace something important that broke or got torn off was frustrating. Some basic things became luxuries out of a sudden.

One day in particular, you very briefly mentioned that you were dying to eat a slice of chocolate cake, but your voice was so small and everyone was so immersed in their duties you thought no one gave two shits to what you said. Two days later, Graham arrived late at rehearsal with a small chocolate cake in his hands, handing it over to you like it was a completely ordinary act. Nothing in the way he acted told you he expected a reward, it was so natural and… gentle. You knew no one in your band could buy a chocolate cake without it being apocalyptic to their personal finances during that time.

That day, you were assured by fate that feeling lost together was better than feeling guided alone.

-

The band finally got on track - strictly musically speaking. Personally speaking, many contemporaries who followed you at parties and other events described you as an ever-growing odd, annoying and intermittently disarming bunch - and Blur and its members became household names, at least in the UK. It became harder and harder everyday to impose yourself as an entire industry and its target public aimed to tear you down. Men couldn’t understand.

(Graham Coxon was the one who tried the hardest to.)

It was four in the morning. You’ve got used to following your bandmates to hospitals, running away from trouble or knowing when to relish in it. But it was the first time you offered yourself to clean up dried blood from one’s face, given how much you hated seeing the fluid and even fainted when younger whenever exposed to it.

You, so delicately, wipe the saline solution-soaked cotton across Graham’s face, who flinches at the cold sensation on his still sensitive skin. He stares at you with the eyes of a child, and you couldn’t help but give him a slight, warm smile in return, which he retributes. Your face conveyed gratitude and affection towards the one you were taking care of. Your hands still struggled to stay completely still after the surge of adrenaline your body received a few hours ago.

Being the only girl in a massive band, and one the music magazines and mainstream media loved sexualizing, meant having paparazzis in your window in odd hours (not that that’s acceptable in any hour, but you had to lower your standards even more these days), meant having different photographers trying to pressure you to get into all kinds of uncomfortable angles with skimpy-ass dresses and just count on the intervention of your fellow bandmates so they would stop, also having invasive male fans who would try to harass you in any way they could.

Of course the day where one of your bandmates would get into a fist fight with one of these men inserted into these categories would come. And even though they were all protective of you, each in their own peculiar, increasingly contradictory way, Graham’s dedication to it was sometimes commendable.

You were making your way through a small corridor of people on your way to the stage when a random guy cupped one of your breasts. It’s not like the venue was incredibly tight, it could not have been on accident and it made your blood boil. You turned around to scream at him, and Graham, who was just behind you, threw a punch directly towards the man’s face, without thinking twice.

And oh boy, took a lot of people and a sweet amount of time to separate the two after that.

After all was said and done, Graham had a few scratches, a black eye and a cut brow. He kept dodging your many “sorrys”, “you didn’t have to do this” and other expressions of guilt. “You have nothing to be sorry about, he deserved it”, he kept assuring you, like a mantra, just giving in to your pleas when you supplicated to take care of his wounds during intermission and after the show.

“I get why you did what you did, Gra. I hate that you took such a risk because of me, but I understand.” you say, voice cracking from not using it for a while after spending some good minutes in complete silence taking care of him. “However,” you soak another cotton ball in the saline solution a roadie got you, punctuating the word with a squeeze to the cotton to remove excess liquid. “I was worried sick about you. What if he… had a knife or something? You could’ve got seriously injured. Or killed.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’m perfectly able to have a good fight,” after wincing from the contact of the cold wet cotton with his dried blood, he purses his lips in a forced, shy smile, trying to light up the mood. He notices your hands are still shaking from the adrenaline, and takes one of them in his bigger ones, trying to calm you down. The fact that he did this for you, coupled with the fear and how tired you felt of having to go through that kind of situation once again, made you cry-laugh from how overwhelmed you felt.

His expression changes to one of pure compassion in an instant. “Hey, don’t--oh my,” he gets up from his chair to embrace you as you pour your frustrations through fat tears running down his shoulder.

“It’s so exhausting,” you mumble, through sobs. “Now I’m putting you in danger too. I feel like I did and I’m still doing everything wrong. I should be the one giving you a shoulder to cry on.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong! Anything at all, I promise you,” he says, tenderly, running his hands through your hair, still holding you tight. “It was his fault! I decided it was the right thing to do. You’re worth the risk. What people have been putting you through is unacceptable.”

“I’m not worth the risk!” You break apart from his arms, trying to get your point across. “What would I do without you if someone killed you? You need to be more careful!”

The silence hangs heavy between you two thanks to the weight of your words.

“You should’ve asked me before you lunged at him, at least. I don’t know.” You wipe your many tears as you move towards the nearest bottle of water to try to calm yourself down. “It’ll never end. I’m so afraid that these situations will get even worse. That,” you motion at his wounds and dirty clothes, “is a bloody tragedy. It’s a tragedy things escalated to this point. You can’t do that forever.”

“This is just a consequence. And something I would do for you in a heartbeat whenever necessary.”

“Graham, I don’t want you to get hurt because--”

“They hurt you. I won’t let you go through that alone. Besides,” he comes closer to you again. “As I already told you, I can take care of myself, most of the time.” He takes your face in his hands, his fingers so delicately running across your cheeks to dry your tears. You knew that gesture wasn’t his way of asking you for anything you weren’t ready to give him yet. He just wanted you to feel safe. “And I want to take care of you.”

“I’m the one cleaning your wounds.”

“A great partnership, I think.” Coxon chuckles softly, and finally gets a smile out of you. As he always does. “And they make me look cool, don’t you think?”

“Shut up.” You giggle, still feeling too emotional to return to the stage. You sigh: “Thank you for being there for me. You know I’m still not very used to it. Just please be safe.”

The roadie returns, a little flustered by interrupting your little moment together. “5 minutes and you’re back, guys.”

“Okay!” You both turn to answer her.

“I’ll be. No need to thank me for anything, Y/N.” He answers, giving your forehead a little kiss. “Let’s go.”

“Give me two minutes. I’ll be right behind you.”

-

“What’s it like, being the only woman in the band?”

Four eyerolls at once don’t seem to faze the interviewer. She waits for your response.

Apparently the thousand invasive questions regarding Damon’s love life and the same bullshit treatment of women as either rare specimen or sex dolls is what pleases the audience of music TV shows these days.

“What do you think?” is what you say.

“Must be a thrill to have these beautiful boys around you all the time. And we’ve heard you never even took advantage of it!”

You don’t like where this is heading. “Is that… a bad thing? I don’t know what you mean.”

“Perhaps some of our lady viewers might think it is. No judgement though!” She raises her hands. “You do you, it’s just that it’s quite unexpected to see prudes in non-Christian bands. I mean… from what we’ve heard.”

“I’m sorry? What are you trying to say? What did you hear?”

Her tongue clicks while she stares at you with defiance and mischief on her eyes, as she goes a little further and raises her voice so it can overlay yours. “Oh love. You do know what I’m talking about. There’s no need to be ashamed of being a virgin.”

Your cheek burns intensely and the only thing you wished for was for the ground to swallow you whole. Dave and Graham are especially uncomfortable. Damon’s a bit amused. The three knew almost everything there was to know about you. The one topic that surprisingly they didn’t know about is that you’re still a virgin.

They know you’ve been single for a long time. They know that’s part of what draws so much attention and twisted lore regarding you and your past, but that’s not something they felt they needed to know about you at all, and you truly never felt the need to comment about that with any of them, and they haven’t asked. Not even Mr. “the way to be successful in this game is to make all the boys wanna be you and all the girls wanna sleep with you. In your case that’d work in reverse” Damon Albarn.

“Is that even something that should be discussed in an interview about our music? Is that what your boss told you to ask her about?” Dave answers, his tone venomous.

“Musicians are way more than just music. You’re entertainment in every sense of the word.”

“Who told you that about me?” You asked, not sure if you want to know the answer.

“A lovely elderly lady who lives in Elgin Crescent. She knows you so well.”

That’s your mum. That’s how far low your relationship has degraded. You’re not surprised. That doesn’t feel less like a punch on your gut, but you don’t feel like tumbling again. Not today.

“I know who you’re talking about. Tell her I asked her to go fuck herself and burn in hell. In that order.”

“But that’s your--”

“Yes, she is my mum!” If people are going to expose you anyway, then why don’t you do it on your terms? “We’re truly entertainment in every sense of the word, aren’t we. Not everyone’s mum’s a cunt. Some of us aren’t that lucky.”

“You want to be the next Gallagher sister with the spicy remarks?”

“Not sure. But I do want to be the last person you ever get to interview.”

-

The management of the band wasn’t at all surprised your interview became UK’s topic of the week. People were heavily divided between family is family and we shouldn’t hate our relatives and blood isn’t everything, family can be shitty too. Your bandmates were proud of you. The management was angry but tried to understand, and didn’t press you for further explanations. They suggested a two-week break from everything so Blur could rest their image and start a fresh cycle after that, and you gracefully accepted it.

The whole thing seemed so ridiculous the more you thought about it. Did your mum tell the reporter about that gratuitously? What was their conversation like? How did that even happen?

You became the butt of jokes in some places. You saw other famous people doing challenges between them, countdowns, all sorts of crude remarks. What a pathetic, sad chapter of your career.

You dial Graham, and you feel like your heart was about to burst out of your chest.

“Hey, Gra. It’s me.”

“Hey, Y/N.” He sounds pleasantly surprised. “How's it going?”

“Better, I guess. I have to take my mind off all that chaos though. Are you available right now?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ve been owing me a movie night for quite a while now and I miss spending time with you. Wanna come over?”

“Aww. Sure, I--um. Do you want me to bring anything?”

“I’m pretty sure I got everything we need here--ah… I think I don’t have any more beers.”

“I’ll buy some then. See ya in a few minutes.”

Actually, you couldn’t take all that chaos off your mind because that was the only thing in it. You’re feeling so nervous.

The main reasons sex wasn’t a priority for you until now were:

You didn’t have any real opportunities of losing your virginity in your teens. You were impossibly introspective until, like, 3, 4 years ago, and the way your family worked hasn’t really allowed you to get really close to people. Be it boyfriends, girlfriends or just friends. Anything that threatened to take time off the various tasks and classes your parents assigned to you just couldn’t be part of your life. To be honest, you still struggled a bit to form meaningful connections with people thanks to how you grew up.

The moment you stopped being shy, you noticed it was a real man’s world out there, especially in music, classical or not. You didn’t want anyone to think you fucked your way up to the top, you didn’t want any messy affairs. Also, you had yourself, and you didn’t get all of the hype regarding the concept of screwing someone. But apparently there’s a lot you’ve been missing, given the importance people seem to give to it. After that incident, even though you swore to yourself you wouldn’t give in to any kind of misogynistic pressure, that was one that really got under your skin.

You never really found someone who you felt 100% safe with in that sense until the one who’s about to arrive at your house appeared in your life. Bloody hell, and you don’t even have anything romantic going on. By the time you were a Blur member, you’ve fooled around a bit, but not all the way. You knew how to kiss, knew how to touch yourself and even brought manual satisfaction to some random fool you thought you were into one time. But perhaps this is the time to go all the way. Why not? Everyone knew how close you two were. He made you feel special. He was so kind. And gorgeous. And--

You hear a knock on your door. It’s him. Beers in hand, hair somewhat in place, twitchy as ever.

He comes inside and you feel like your legs will give up anytime. It was not the first time he visited you. It was one of many, actually, and he noticed you were acting… different.

“Y/N, are you okay?” He asks after a brief dialogue between you two, after plating some snacks for both of you.

“Graham...” You sigh, being really careful with your words. “What is your perception of me?”

“My perception of you?” He smiles. “I… think you’re great. You’re fun to be around. You’re one of the best musicians I know, if not the best. Why are you asking me that?”

“N-nothing. It’s nothing. Also, I asked the wrong question. What was your first perception of me?”

“Uh… the day of your audition?”

“Exactly. You barely talked to me that day.”

His eyes lower to his own feet. “I was really timid, actually. I wasn’t used to being near any girl, especially one who… w-would spend so much time around me if everything went well.”

You giggle. “I thought you hated me.”

“Never!” his smile turns into a full blown laughter. You melt at his confession. “Also because it seemed like you were trying to read my mind or something.”

“Of course! Because I thought you hated me!” Now that was a laughter you two shared. You do a voice: “‘Why is that pesky girl trying to get in my band?’”

“My goodness, no! I don’t even sound like that - you know what, I changed my mind. You suck. Because, besides the fact you don’t even know what I sound like, you still haven’t told me why you are asking me that in the first place.”

You couldn’t help but notice how he slightly cornered you physically in one of the kitchen corridors. Graham could be really persuasive when he wanted to.

“Okay. Right. Um. I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

“What, exactly?”

“Everything that happened this month. The great virginity debacle,” you roll your eyes, and he scoffs.

“You don’t own anyone any information about what you do or don't do with your life. Everyone’s being so invasive. That was incredibly childish of the reporter to do, and we talked about that hundreds of times.”

“Yeah, but… you know what, forget it.”

“Tell me, Y/N. I just said that because I want you to know you were not in the wrong.”

“I know. It’s just… I’ve been thinking that maybe it’s silly for me to… keep closing myself for affection. Any kind of affection.”

“What are you talking about?” His brows furrowed in curiosity.

“I’m not sure if it’s the pressure that finally got under my skin, but… I’m willing to learn what all the fuss is about. Maybe it’s silly that I’m still a virgin.”

He bites his lips, still processing what you just said, expression unreadable. Perhaps you’ve treaded a ground you shouldn’t. You step back both literally and figuratively. “I’m sorry I even brought that up--”

“No, no, don’t be.” He assures you. “I’m just… surprised, that’s all. I swear.”

“And...” You know what. You already went too far, so why not go all the way. You’ve already gone way past the point of no return. “I was wondering if… you would… popmycherry?”

His eyes widen, yours still closed. When you finally open them, he’s closer to you again.

If his head was a machine, you’re sure it would be releasing lots of steam and shaking due to overprocessing. You felt like you just ruined everything.

“Y/N, you don’t need to do it if you don’t really want to.”

“But I want it! At first I thought I didn’t, but then I thought...”

“I don’t want to be part of that if you’re just doing it to fulfill weird expectations.”

“But it’s not that. Not just... that. I asked about your perception of me because I really like you, Gra. I think we should be more than friends and I wanted to know what you think about me. And I want to know what the fuss is about, yes, but I’m not telling you that just so I can lose my virginity to prove some point. I’m telling you that because I like you, I want to kiss you, and I think it would be a great idea if you showed me what it’s like. Y-you know, sex.”

“I-I can’t believe it. Did you even have any movie in mind?” His smile’s back, but you’re still not confident about what his answer will be.

“I didn’t. I’m sorry. You don’t have to--”

He sighs. “I was in love with you the moment I first saw you, actually.” He says it like he’s releasing a huge load out of his back, his arms crossed. Now your eyes widen, and you hold your breath without even noticing. “I didn’t want you to feel pressured. I know how you feel, or, felt about relationships, so… there wasn’t any reason for me to tell you that. And what I said about being timid was just half of the truth.”

“Huh?”

“I also was really intimidated by how pretty you looked. You can’t imagine how.”

“No way.”

“It’s true. I felt like I wasn’t even worthy of looking at you, really.”

“You’re joking. That’s mean, Gra.”

“I’m not. I’m really not.” He doesn’t look like he is joking. He looks relieved. “I’m really not. That’s why I’m so surprised by your request.”

“I’m nothing special.”

“You are everything to me. But I can’t accept your offer, not now.”

“Are you… seeing someone? Am I too late?”

“No. Definitely not. I just want you to be sure you’re not doing it because people are saying you should.”

“Graham, I’m a grown woman.”

“I know.”

Graham carefully presses his slightly chapped lips to yours, kissing you for a few precious, heart stopping seconds before pulling away; his voice is impossibly silky when he suggests, “Let’s watch a movie. How about The Godfather? I heard it’s airing tonight. Then, if in two weeks you don’t change your mind, tell me and I’ll be glad to help you with what you want. Do we have a deal?”

“That’s so unfair. I want you so bad.” You whisper.

“Tell me if you still do in two weeks.”

You sigh, defeated. “...Deal.”

-

You definitely notice the subtle shift in Graham’s personality and actions after that fateful night. If you were already close, both figuratively and literally, it now seemed like he would use any excuse to always touch you, be near you, sometimes tease you. The shift was subtle, though, don’t forget it’s still Graham Coxon we’re talking about - the constant “is it okay if”s or “is it alright if I”s were still there, as careful as ever. You don’t even talk about your deal that entire time, or even kiss again - sometimes you wondered if it was even real or just a fabrication of your mind.

The way he now caressed your hand discreetly when you listened to Damon’s ramblings, the way his hands now went directly to your waist when your games became too handsy, the way he seemed to be madly in love with everything you were and still are from the start - made you realize you were ready for this man to be a consistent part of your life.

The dust of the controversy was settled, and your own intentions were 100% clear to you now. The societal pressure has waned. The need for Graham to be your first persisted. After exactly 2 weeks have passed, you call him again, yearning to share the answer with him.

One beep.

Two beeps.

Three beeps.

Four beeps. “Hello?”

You release a sigh hidden deep inside of your lungs. “Graham, it’s Y/N.”

“Oh. It’s been two weeks.” You could hear the contemplative tone of his voice.

“...Yeah. That’s precisely the reason I’m calling you.”

“Do you still want to…?”

“...Desperately.”

“Ok.” He chuckles, flustered as hell on the other side of the phone, probably one of the prettiest sounds you’ve ever heard. “Right. Ok. Your place or mine?”

“I think there’ll be an element of mystery if I go to your place this time.” You lose some of the constraints this silly shyness has been tying you on. “Do you have everything we might need there?”

“We don’t need a dungeon, you know.”

“The basics.” You make your smile heard.

“I do have… I do have the basics.”

“See you in a few minutes then.”

“Will you want to… ease into it? Or just go straight to it?”

“God, don’t make it awkward!” Your cheeks burn, your smile turning into contagious laughter. “Maybe… I don’t know. Ease into it, I guess? A movie night… but with s-something else?”

“Okay. Sounds good.”

“Alright then. See you.”

“See you.”

-

You don’t choose any particularly fancy or sexy clothes, instead settling for a slightly oversized yellow striped shirt he gave you as a birthday present some months ago and some skirt that fit you well. He wasn’t one to lavish his loved ones with gifts all the time, but few things were as precious as the look on his face whenever he saw you wearing something he gave you or, hell, even eating something he paid for you. You’re thrilled to see it again when he opens the door for you, it easing some of your deepest doubts.

2001: A Space Odyssey is already playing on the TV when you arrive. Despite it being one of your favorite movies of all time, and his, you’re not mad it was already halfway through when you arrived. It wasn’t your main priority to rewatch it for the 17th time tonight.

He offers you some wine, which you accept to ease the nerves. You sit on his couch, and he shares the cozy space with you, now mindlessly throwing one of his arms around your shoulders. You cuddle up to him, and everything seems peaceful in the world for a while.

The tip of his fingers softly caress your lifted knee, absentmindedly. You couldn’t help but notice how well his body fits with yours, how your skin was apparently made for him to touch, and the anxiety rumbles in your stomach like a storm in a wild wavy sea. After some minutes, you raise your head, his big brown eyes meeting yours as if asking you a silent question. You leaned up a bit more to press your lips to his, in a silent answer. The sweetness in him makes this moment as precious as every other moment you ever shared with him. His hands enter your hair, making you shiver a bit from the unfamiliarity and the electricity of it all - but it doesn’t sway you from deepening the kiss, wanting more of his taste, more of this, more of him.

“Do you wanna take this to the bed?” He whispers, after noticing your moans were becoming more frequent and needy. You nod, and you are taken by surprise when he carries you bridal style to it, hiding your excited giggles in his broad shoulders.

Graham wasn’t exactly the most organized man in the world - so the fact that his bedroom was now impossibly tidy was something that positively caught your attention. He put some planning into this. He lays you down and you part your legs, beckoning him to meet you between them. He does, and you go back to the breathtaking makeout session. You notice he’s holding himself back a bit, taking his time, his warm tongue moving smoothly, not hurriedly, against yours. His self control falters a bit though, given how he can’t stop grinding against you. You follow the rhythm of his hips a bit timidly and not nearly as in sync as you’d really like, though the pressure his covered cock is creating against your core can already be felt and some particular thrusts are able to fill at least partially the aching, wet need growing within you.

“How do you feel about oral?” He asks, breath warm near your ear, his voice raspy and spent by his desire for you.

“Um… It would be my first time receiving or doing it.”

“Would you like me to go down on you?”

“Wow. I never thought I would hear you saying something like that.” You smile, still assimilating the situation you’re in, trying not to show how badly his voice is affecting you. “Sure.”

“I never thought I would get to propose this to you. Aren’t we full of surprises lately.” He smiles back, warmly. He notices your hands trembling a bit from how anxious you are while you’re taking off your underwear with his help, and as he lowers himself to where you need him most, he takes your hands in his as an act of reassurance. “Tell me what you like. Tell me if what I’m doing works for you. I want this to be a great experience.”

“You want me to get addicted to you, that’s what you want,” He chuckles, lovingly kissing your thigh as a reply. “Okay, Gra. Guess I’ll find out along the way.”

You quickly take a peak below you to see the lower half of his face disappear in the middle of your thighs. The sight alone sets your fire ablaze, as he hooks his arms around your thighs and lifts you closer to his mouth, his lips ghosting over the curls between your legs tantalizingly and his breath catching when your hips jerk forward.

As he begins his ministrations, you immediately notice it’s unlike anything you’ve ever felt. That feeling was completely alien to you. It was even wetter than you expected, and weird, but powerfully pleasant. Before this exact moment, you had a firm belief that hardly anyone else would make you feel the same way, or better, than you do yourself, but apparently you were very wrong. Thankfully you were wrong. “My god,” you gasp as the flat of his tongue drags over your folds, too much and not enough, and you jerk at the contact. “This is great. So weird, but-- great.”

He moans at your response, his movements carefully enthusiastic. He works his tongue between your folds and traces up to curl the tip of it around your clit, and it’s quite endearing and madly arousing to see how he eats out you like you’re the sweetest and tastier dessert he has ever tasted. You involuntarily buck against him with a desperate sound the moment he moves his tongue and lips in a particularly wicked way, something that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by him, but you still feel the need to highlight in case it didn’t - “That. Keep doing that, please,”

And he does. The building of this climax is also different than the ones you already had by your own hands, and is more coy. As he sees the drops of sweat sliding along your soft skin and the expressions on your face as you get lost in this new but enchanting sensations, his hesitation and self-control fades away; there’s nothing uncertain in the way he buries his face in your cunt now, nothing restrained in the groan he lets out as he devours you and drinks you down as if you’re the first stream of water he has seen in days.

His tongue glides deeper in your folds again and again, swirling up through the wetness you’re coated with to tease at your clit while he grunts and strains closer, squeezing your thighs with both hands tight. The wave of heat inside of you is cresting so fast, you don't even know how to tell him, how to signal that you’re nearly done for and, in the end, it happens too fast to even try. He sucks at your clit, circling it with his tongue, once, twice, and then you’re crying out, shaking underneath him, trying to keep your thighs from clenching too hard around his head as he laps you through it with with urgent whimpers and moans, as if he cannot have enough of you.

You’re still trembling when he rises, the look on his face revealing to you how proud he feels by making you feel this way. It looks so good on him.

You fail miserably at the simple task of connecting words together after that, choosing instead to collect your remaining strength, prop yourself up and beckon him again to keep kissing him and learn, through his talented tongue, how you taste. He kisses the thin fabric of the shirt at your chest that covers you from view, your throat, your jaw, and before he reaches your impatient lips, he notes, sinfully, “Seems like you enjoyed yourself, love.”

“That was… unbelievable. Stars, I want to make you feel good too. Please show me how.”

“Keep kissing me,” he begs, voice still strained from how aroused he is. “I want to be inside you so bad. Let’s get you prepared.” You’re still so sensitive, you tread on overstimulation when his fingers lightly touch your clit, making you break the kiss in a hiss. He traces a line on your folds, inspecting the impact his mouth had on you. “So wet for me.”

“Bit slower, Gra,” He complies to your breathy plea, his fingers now more tame as he slowly spreads your wetness throughout your pussy. He stretches towards the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube, interrupting his contact to spread some on his fingers before unhurriedly slipping his middle finger inside of you. The coldness of the gel makes you shiver in surprise, the easiness brought by it very welcomed. Again - the sensation is odd. Completely unfamiliar. The feeling of having something inside of you for the first time, going further than you ever dared to try, probing, exploring; the coldness of the lube clashing against your burning hot cunt. But it also felt nice. The focused look on his face was adorable, he looked like he was a scientist in the middle of very complex research.

Despite the panting, the messy hair and the fire in his eyes.

Your body already has a lot of new sensations to process simultaneously, so when he asks you to take off your bra and shirt so his tongue can work on your nipples - which you gladly accept, you feel like you’re on sensual overload. His tongue, again, so talented, takes your mind off the slight burning you feel when he introduces his ring finger to your soaked, throbbing core, his focused, carefully overpowering and constant stimulation driving you insane.

“Does it feel good?” He asks, voice muffled by your breast. You nod, carried by the wave of pleasure sweeping you.

“Yes. God, yes.” You pant, tangling your fingers tightly on his thick hair as an encouragement, a desperate sound escaping from your lips the moment he reaches a certain point within you you didn’t even know existed, hot mouth continuing to lick and suck your nipple. Even though you were spent by your last orgasm, he was indeed getting you addicted to those new feelings, and even though this was heavenly, truly heavenly, you needed more. “Gra, I’m ready, I think.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Please.”

Releasing your nipple from his lips with a sounding pop, he eagerly frees himself from his trousers - hard as a brick - and puts protection and lubrication on, swiftly positioning himself between your thighs while stroking himself to the sight in front of him. You motion to take off your skirt, and he holds your hand, not letting you. “Don’t. It’ll be really hot to fuck you in this.” He confesses, giving your forehead a kiss in a very different context than before. He aligns his forehead with yours, each of your lips just barely touching while you breathe each other’s air. He looks deep into your eyes, slowly running the tip of his cock between the slick folds of your pussy, coating himself in the remnants of your pleasure. “Do you trust me?”

You trust me to know your limits? Not to go any further if you don’t really want me to?

“Absolutely.”

The only response you get from him is a shuddering, helpless moan into your mouth and you hold him tighter to you, grinding your still sensitive cunt up against his cock while he pulls hard at the soft fur next to your head. You feel your soaking pussy lips part around the solid curve of his length and gradually coat the underside of him in slick with every gentle circle and roll your hips make, as he finally pulls away from your mouth to drop his forehead to your neck. He then, very slowly, penetrates you, stopping when he hears the noises you make indicating you’re struggling to adjust to his presence. Out of everything you’ve felt in the last minutes, this was by far the most painful sensation. “This-- is new,” you note, your face completely incapable of hiding the discomfort. He also notices that.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?”

“It’s okay. I’ll get used to it.”

“It’s not supposed to be about endurance, you know.” He says, a bit breathless and worried, caressing your hair. “Tell me when it’s okay to move. Or if you feel too much pain.”

After some long seconds and some deep breaths, you say: “Okay. Go on.”

“As you wish.”

He moves inside you at a very slow pace, the lubrication clearly making it easier for you to handle it. It still hurts, significantly, but the sensation of being filled is also surprisingly arousing.

His hand moves to your sensitive clit again in small, measured circles, your little moans being a mixture of the pain of penetration and the sheer ecstasy of seeing him falling apart because of you. The way his chest heaves while the drops of sweat start pearling his fair skin, the furrowed brows and broken groans, the thickness of him as he rests heavy up against your entrance, the way his voice presses deliciously tight in his throat as he gasps out into the quiet room - everything’s making your chest burst in love and satisfaction. You tighten your grip around him and roll your hips up into his cock, letting it break you open nice and slow; it stretches you wide with a deliciously sharp fullness and pleasure rips through you, and Graham becomes even more vocal as he picks up a steady and gradually faster pace. He turned all of your keys, it’s about time you turn some of his.

“Graham, deeper,” you whimper, continuing to tighten your legs and hoist yourself up, lifting your hips to take his cock deeper inside you. His name rips itself from your throat while Coxon clenches his jaw and starts to lose himself in the pleasure, holding you down into the bed while he allows your desperation to guide him to the perfect angle and speed to sate you. He found denying you to be impossible.

He snarls and curses as he holds you down and rails you, determined to make you sing again before he finishes, and to his delight, your heightened sensitivity gives him what he wants. And this time, he couldn't hold on.

Graham kisses you one last time as he groans and gives in, head dropping to your neck again. You didn’t reach a second climax, but stars, what an experience you just had.

When he comes back to himself enough to realise he still had you practically folded in half, he carefully pulls his softening cock free, taking the condom off and taking the strands of hair out of your face as you struggle to catch your breath. You suggest a shared bath, a suggestion he gladly accepts.

Too tired and too sore for pillow talk, comfortable silence falls as your hand finds his, and you lay, listening to each other’s breathing slowly settle.

I could get used to his little snore on my chest, is the last thought that twinkles on your mind before you fall asleep snuggled with him.

[misterbitches]

I ship muren and li cheng bc i only saw it through gifs then i watched this episode cos i was like im only starting this show if they kiss im waiting and they did and it was nice and i got so anxious that i was about to fucking vomit. I really like them together. The top/bottom shit is dumb and i hope if they must mention it they all build a bridge and get over it so they can switch cos who gives a shit. I didnt realize how large they all are like most “tall” men on tv are lying. But bc that kid is so thin and tall and the other one (idk the stepbrother) is huge too. Li cheng is shorter than them both but more ~manly~ but still short so why doesnt he take a DICK UP HIS BUTT XD since that’s all that fucking matters and there’s only 2 genders and 2 eays to have sex lmao so nothing else otherwise ur screwed

Hd a terrible past couple of weeks personally and because i keep seeing my peopl eget murdered and things ripped from us ^_____^ anyway here’s Some libertatrian communist dumb bitch discoars so i’ll tag it:

keep in mind these are my opinions’”” when i engage in discourse. I am not the end all be all and I don’t need you to agree. There’s some shit I am non-negotiable on but thsi is just exchanging of information. Any authoratative tone I take on comes from my beliefs, my life, my experiences, and what I choose to cultivate as a person and an artist. I dont have control over your feelings, you do. If it hurts you then either tell me the issue and be PRECISE about it, understand that context matters which is why i type so much in engagement, and do not fucking lie or misconstrue my words. Do not call me western ever in your life either. I am a black-american. I have adhd and bc i am a black woman if ur automatically thinking im brolic i am accepting money in my paypal for ur wellbeing to get me to shut the fuck up.Thanks.

The stepbrothers storyline is stupid and lazy writing. I really want to counter people that say it’s written well and that it’s interesting because it isn’t. Even if it was illicit and fucked we can write a story out about this. Let’s rethink what they could have done shall we:

- become stepbrothers at about 16 and their parents mismanage the relationship and they fail in trying to get an integrated family together (this is what happened in the #iconic transit girls and that was fuckin’ weird but hey dude guess what we watched it and it was weird but not unethical and we know one is like 19 and the other is 21 and a girl so it’s like wow you avoided so much and handled their stepsister story very…….um lightly given the end lmao but it was there and people had AGENCY)

-OR you realize that freak is obsessed with him and then he realizes it and is like “bitch i swear to god” and in typical shtity trope BL fashion they can find a way from obsession, to loss and independence when you lose your obsession, to “love” if they choose

- have the fucked up shit but make it clear what the issues are and you literally cannot write your way out of it so do not try

But why can’t fucked up things be shown? Also this is realistic.

0. Well according to you but no one said that they can’t. So that’s on your interpretation of critique (that is, again, not bullying or harassment.) They can, i just gave plenty of scenarios in which it is affective and not just annoying to witness, trope-y, and frankly ridiculous and offensive. Sorry! They don’t do it well. You can come up with alternatives too. See #2 btw.

1. No it isn’t doing a good job of reflecting life because life has consequences. The exaggeration in drama doesn’t mean the arc shouldn’t be there. Almost always things that aren’t heavy with the message or meant to be sobering in a deep way are COMPELLING. The realism is the basis for art because we are human. This is not the way real humans act.

Someone said Tharn Type was mature and I had to laugh because no, no one acts that way and is “in love” if they act that way that means they fucking hate each other and they’re immature and frankly it’s just not that interesting for many of us to watch because the dramatization of the “realism” is fucking bonkers. That was such poor writing it is unbelievable and someone has the audacityt o say it’s how real adults act. Fucking murder me if I’m with someone for 7 years and we break up over a miscommunication and for some reason I am not as horny as my always horny boyfriend. The fuck? What kind of lives do you lead? Either you are not an adult or you are an adult who needs therapy.

I also hear the “realistic” argument but then people try and temper it with “but also it’s fiction.” What do you think fiction is? Why do you think filmmaking exists? Number one, it’s propaganda in the sense that you want others to buy into your presentation and see what you see. That means that the creators are telling people and influencing them WITH ART BECAUSE THAT’S WHAT IT IS about their feelings around a situation. That’s why it is imperative to be responsible as a filmmaker and artist and underline the deepness of creepiness if that’s what they want. If they want to relay that rape sometimes ok and psychos are crazy so they get boy (??!?!?!? BITCH?) then they achieved it with no innovative information. We know people get raped bc we are human beings and many of us live with that fear. You know, being the target demo and all. And bc BL loves that trope it’s rape fantasy peddled to young people and women. Just like shitty wattpad fics or NYT best sellers. Hooray, what now? Or are you trying to purport that this isn’t glorified fanfiction? Which it literally is

2. This is the issue with these shows. No one is saying that fucked up shit cannot be shown. There’s a film about a woman who is raped and she falls in love with her rapist (because he was masked but i think we find out later that she knows. Binoche is in it.) I have no desire for that film—i think it’s by a man and i extra dont care—but I hear it’s sort of powerful for many. I heard it was a good film. But the act itself is always eschewed and the conflict comes from how fucking ridiculous it is especially finding out that she knows. The power imbalance adn the possibility. They may not have handled it in a way I would have cared for but it was there.

There’s simply no imagination because these people do not care that much and aren’t great writers and filmmakers because they simply do not have to be. Sorry.

The industry doesn’t rely on the best they rely on efficiency (this is everywhere.) You can tell by the camera angles, the editing, the camera itself (idk if it is multicam but the flatness is typical soap flatness without the glowboxes to soften their faces.) Simple constant lighting. Now the surroundings are mostly beautiful. But even to some of the costumes. And those edits are abysmal, some of that camera work.

So with all that said even with the couple I extremely enjoy I see its (H4) faults. Add into that a lazily thrown together “shocking” love and if they are trying to get us to feel a type of way about its sexiness they fail. This is why movies like 50sog, 365 days, etc aren’t enjoyable to people because it’s fucking strange situations that they dont want to entangle or make enjoyable to viewers across the board. They know what people will take. It’s just that bitch what are we here for if even the sexiness isn’t there for ur stupid story.

At least with that teenager and 30 yr old man in MODC (which i do not love but i like them in theory if it wasnt totally repulsive to me and also if it was developed in a way that was good TO ME) they had their, er, “sex appeal” i talk about this as well the main couple in MODC to me, visually, was a miss. Not bc whatshisface was small and stuff but bc he was so sickly and they needed that to propel the story but it was just not appealing given how the story progressed. A missed opportunity in tying the two together besides making him look waif-y and sickly only to have the “did ur mom die in a car crash? No, cancer” type of move in not another teen movie. But the opposite. And not funny. Wayne tho????? GORL. Eggs. Cracked.

fandoms have a very warped sense of harrassment and discourse.

Most fandoms have harassers who are “protecting” the cast and crew who don’t need their protection (or maybe the crew does since they probably dont get paid well but why the fuck would anyone care about that lol) but very few have the people who have concerns or massive critique about the show are not going to be “bullying.”

If people are saying “if you like xyz, u suck” then sure it may suck for you to see but who fucking cares. Either talk to the person or don’t be friends with them. That is not bullying or harrassment. Things that are shitty get criticized. Fuck, things that aren’t shitty don’t. Get away from this idea of cancel culture and people misunderstanding the story. We have the ability to.

Think beyond your noses of personal preference. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them.

And guess what? You won’t like everybody. Many people can’t stand me i’m sure. Oh well. I mean frankly I don’t like that and I feel very unsettled when I don’t feel understood. That’s ok! I have to temper it. Sometimes calm myself down. I won’t get anything and everything I want. And you won’t like every opinion and sometimes it’s like “man am i a dummy?” But the part of growing up is fucking maanging that and beng honest about “bashing and harrassment” and “bullying” and growing up. Yuo can like what you want the “let people like what they want thing” is so fucking juvenile and THAT is not the real world. Which is probably why so many people feel that way, they dont want to live in the real world. Unfortunately, you do.

Think beyond our noses of personal preference and what we feel emotionally in conjunction with others. You don’t have to convince people of what you believe. And you can say things that you believe to be true but it doesn’t make them so or maybe it isn’t received that way to people. And many times we learn new things in the discussions “oh shit i didn’t see it that way” right? Discussing it is good but critique is not bullying, harrassment, or hate. Neither is fucking roasting shit because even this shit I like (manner of death lets say) deserves it. Art is meant to be critiqued and if you dont fucking like the bullshit people make then say it. They know stupid stories like this are scandalous and they don’t give a shit in how to present them. Usually the “opposition” in these situations aren’t the popular beliefs that permeate through society. Trust me lmao

Antiblackness

Antiblackness is a thing. It permeates everywhere. It permeates in this genre and it permeates in fandom. Get it the fuck together. Also do not conflate cultural relativism with being repsectful. They are not barbarians, they are smart human beings either making work or deciding to. We all have diff cultures but we have fucking sense in what is respectful and not. And if we don’t we fucking learn. You cannot excuse things and say “oh culture” when you have 0 idea of that culture or actual people who are radical etc and are fighting against it. Additionally the word westerner is an ignorant term when referring to people in the US or UK who are black. Because we are not. We extend sympathy to other groups and empathy since we know so there is no inherent power imbalance between a black viewer and their subject. Don’t suggest that because it’s wrong and ahistorical and contextless.

FIRST the fallacy of representation as freedom makes people fucking complacent, individualistic, and doesn’t let them think critically. Consumption and discourse around consumption is not helping material conditions of the marginalized communities in your home, the black ones who are ignored, those intersectionalized in these communities. Groups talk about art and what it means for them outside of just what we see and because we also don’t have access to a bunch of Thai reviews or what movements or going on we are less likely to know if we don’t FUCKING SEARCH for it. Because art is constant...which leads me to....

Representation is difficult. It matters and it doesn’t.

Tthese shows are not meant to overturn the LGBTQ+ community.

There are queer filmmakers and artists in these countries. Deep illustrious film careers or even TV that is moving and deliberate. We can even see it with the dude from “your name engraved” in their short series he was in beforehand. BL is no wa pejorative because it is simply not “qu**r” storytelling whatever that means. But know it has always existed everywhere and there are also out artists or radical artists in all these countries who do no respect mediums that are cash-grabs and poorly made.

ex: As much as “Like in the Movies” sort of isnt for me and is a bit hamfisted you can tell how much love goes into that. Love of the characters, acting, and message. Yes it’s cringey to see some of the lines (like very tbh subtlety wasnt exactly their strong suit) and yea naming them after lenin and marx is just 0ihgoaudgijposkagjihou BUT GUESS WHAT? THEY FUCKING DID IT. THEY TRIED. And class was a large component as well bc u cant fuckin ignore it. The show is aware of the machinations in its world as a show but also in the philippines and for a fuckin reason. And duatarte? Loooooooool so like yea not so sure bl makes him love his ppl but the show isnt trying to do that

It’s not a transgressive genre and it has no reason to be. No ethical anything under the way we live it’s just trying your fucking best to be. That’s it. They serve societal ills and capital’s purposes. Which is fine but it is not revolutionary.

These countries in SEA or even SA do not have as big budget for even mainstream dramas—though things are changing and that’s bc REVENUE like revenue from kpop is fucking huge for SK and again so much about that is bc of what happened in their history from japanese imperialism to WWII to the US—so for “queer” stuff it is sort of now important to make that an export and it sure is one. Not only globally or to the west but a lot of these places make their money within asia (duh!) outside of their countries. OBVIOUSLY. so BL is a way to output and gain money. The thing is, it doesnt seem to be put back into the industry at all. For people in all these countries to make works that aren’t for mainstream or wont reach as many people there’s a difference between trying and just shoving shit in your face and going here it’s gay you like it right? But dont antagonize the inherent patriarchal nature of BL.

Another thing: did you guys know thailand was never colonized? You should look it up. There’s little hints of things in ITSAY to represent french influence still. Isnt that fascinating? Find out why. It’s certainly interesting that the representation, though damaging and dubious many times and also incorrect like any media, is huge in asia and this isnt a commodity here (the US) exactly. A lot of that has to do with colonial ideas of gender of which I am sure. But listen………lmao

Sometimes people dont give a shit. And it very much shows. Here is the thing once again. GOOD TRANSGRESSIVE WORK exists.

Een within the capitalist Bs paradigm or you can see people trying (I can sort of applaud parts of lovely writer) also queer media has always existed everywhere the reason you don’t know about it is because it gets takena nd commodified into a mainstream product. We hvae little incentive, particularly if we are not fans of cinema or art in gen, to search fror others when the output is right here. Being dictated by others and the state and who will give you money. No longer an effort of a cast and crew who want to convey things. But google [any country] independent cinema, radical cinema, queer radical cinema, or even retrospectives on the cinema and rethinking what is queer and radical in film. What if we took that, diluted it, got rid of the creators who put themselves through all the work, ignroe al the nuances and do……………….two actors who are conventionally attractive with no chemistry making out.

It’s the same here lets say daniel kaluuya winning the oscar for the film about the BPP. I heard it was okay and not too offensive but it still isnt’ enough. It still isn’t like hwood isn’t trash, nnati black, misogynistic towards BW and women, and all that other shit. It was pushy but it can’t be enough where we are. Black KKKlansmen i think won an oscar, by circumstance i fuckin hate these award shows they mean nothing, and i like the film a lot but he has his misogynoir still resting in his films even if it is poignant. And it was a film that honestly wasn’t really made for black people. And should all art be a response to direct trauma or trying to make ourselves palatable when we’re just human?

$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$$ and it’s importance (capitalism) but also sorta individual responsibility

Considering a lot of these actors are rich and then just dip that’s another problem. Mainstream isn’t what sustains marginalized art ever. It doesn’t change in the vast ways we think it does. What changes is the people of these groups pushing, fighting, forcing and then capitalism trying to make it work under capitalism. It will not. It cannot.

This is why artists and labels often don’t mix or you see people like Sonic Youth doing whatever they want and pissing off their label but making them give them money. Same with Nirvana. Vince Staples. The thing is they can fight and make good shit but what capitalism helps people….not care? They don’t respect the audience? We’re getting those returns on poor executed product placement, lighting, editing, framing, fucking acting. And you surewon’t see mixed black asians in these shows. WHY R U is the oNLY one i have seen it in and he just disappears (but that was pretty cool.) so who the fuck is this representing? And before you start: asian countries are not homogenous the way we believe them to be. There are marginalized communities outside of even mixed people that are harmed. So you can skrrt cause on that one: you’re wrong buddy. But it gives us the IDEA of a paradise which is what they NEED.With representation and visibility comes consequence and responsibility as artists. What it allows them to do is coast and not think complexly because why should they; it’s mostly the fantasies of some older woman who probably has money and much less interaction with the world. It’s bonkers. And what that allows even further is for them to say YOU ARE THE THING THAT YOU CONSUME and the THING THAT YOU CONSUME IS YOURS. It is not, it is not your identity, form a close bond but figure it the fuck out. Especially for adults who are hellbent on twisting their minds into pretzels and can’t acknowledge what’s just laziness in art and not giving a fucking shit. Truly.

There’s damage that has been done from Parasite as he was supported by CJE&M and the bullshit obsession america had and eveyrone’s poor interpretation of it if they are rich. BJH is a socialist and he is a filmmaker. He has made films that are outstanding and cost a lot of money. But now a fear for indie filmmakers is just not being able to raise that much or have that much attention. Getting funding that helps them instead of expecting the Next Big Thing that is a fad because capitalism is trash. Yes this funneling of money is absolutely harmful to us artists. Even buying in is strategic. Additionally, that film is probs one of the most radical films to have that wide release and accolade (unlike “Sorry to Bother You” which i have a lot of thoughts about. One being that asian exports are acceptable but black ones are not. This is an overall art critique and global media critique. Blackness is removed, not respected.) However, filmmaking isn’t green, it can’t be socialist, and it’s a lot of work. They used tons and tons and TONS of water to do a huge beautiful feat but we still know there is a cost. We have to figure that out because it shouldn’t be. It doesn’t go back into the crew’s pockets the way it should and the work becomes that of the director’s and actors solely. It’s fucking hard. We have to do our part but it doesn’t mean we are doing it perfectly. We just have to try to do better. So does BJH cos he needs to not be a misogynist but anyways i digress.

additionally and this is something some users fail to understand: people in the media sphere generally have fucking money. I went to film school that was international with super fucking rich kids. Taiwanese kids, kids from south asia, china, thailand. They had money. No not upper middle class money, not “rich” money, not some paltry 1m that’s chump change. Fucking money. Fucking RICH-RICH. MILLIONAIRES. BILLIONAIRES. WHICH IS DISGUSTING MIGHT I ADD. The domestic people didn’t have the money for school (in the UK) and i am in a massive amount of debt like every other black student that went there. You do not understand how much money is needed to survive so people who turn to these crew positions even casting etc need this fucking money usually. OKAY. A lot of the people that do well in these dumb shows or even on a larger scale HAVE MONEY. The reason these industries are small and struggling is because of lack of people and lack of resources to independent shit because oh gee it takes money to make things.

Why should I try? Well you don’t have to really if you have money or a name. Yet...

We can tell when like those Tik Tok shows or DCOMs dont give a shit (anymore.) You know how frustrated we get when content for young people is garbage? Well, see, BL is literally that under that system. Occasionally we will get something good now but there is virtually no need in any sector in the world at this point to truly figure out how to make it better and what to do to enhance artistic literacy, outreach, teaching people new things, getting people from these communities there and having true realistic says. Art and culture is IMPERATIVE TO WORLD LIBERATION but not when it is so stiffly trying to bend to capital’s idea of progressiveness. No. Neoliberalism. No.

That’s why in a way ITSAY is a huge feat; it takes from films etc and they clearly had money (the actors rae rich too which….lmaooooo j’aime pas) but it was a respected fucking script, acting was important, blocking, framing. There’s very little to critique as a visual medium for that because I understand what they are trying to do, their market is going to be mostly young girls, but they RESPECT THE FUCKING AUDIENCE. And guess what guys? You can make money from it!!!! WOAH! Since that may be the only goal which is disgusting and repulsive.

HOWEVER AND THIS IS WHAT IS SAD: itsay is an ex of a great show however knowing the actors backgrounds and the pseudo trouble it stirred when they weren’t supporting people protesting against the coup in the summer it really put a damper on my enjoyment. And this is how we can see that:

a) it’s honestly just a show and a good one but b) now what?

These kids (actors, who are like idk 19? 20?) are rich and not saying anything while countless actors, who were filming, did. Even tul who has $$$$ and the thing is the protesting against the coup legitimately attacks the rich. As it should. The protests going on were cries for help, against a dictatorship and fucking coup, asking people to get fucking help for covid, having kids be able to live. There’s a mini on VICE about this and it probably doesnt go too in depth but there’s a kid in there who talks about his friends getting into drugs and how he just wants to make music, have fun, skateboard. And it’s harrowing to see. This is a direct example of what these things do and don’t do. Yea we know a good show is here, we know growing up and slice of life, we know this is a bit of escapism and idealism but the idealism is reflected in the way these actors also choose to live their lives. So what progress? To who? For who? How is this helping me? What purpose does it serve? I say ITSAY serves its purpose as a piece and a glimpse into possibility of growing up but i do not say it antagonizes a broader issue that needs to be relevant in some sense but simply is not. It’s very singleminded and, well, it’s sort of like “besides my sexuality, what do i have to worry about?” But for real humans like....a lot. I do not respect their decision at all.

Why can’t we do our jobs and make something decent and respect our audience? No time, gotta make that sweet sweet sweet cash baybee. Look how progressive we are! Don’t look at history and material conditions. Thanks in advance, management.

History 4 does not have that respect. Many of these shows do not. Sometimes we hit good, sometimes we don’t. But in the end we cannot settle. And I won’t. If I am critiquing something I will not be shy and if I am meant to enjoy something as escapism then these shows NEED to highlight that and it’s rare sometimes (the best twins is a good reminder like that show is bad but man do i Brain Empty when i turn it on and i like that and there’s not much in it that makes me want to kill myself from annoyance but there are transphobic jokes i dont love however the whole show is a comedy about this dude’s crazy homophobic sister and she is constantly positioned as wrong and they talk about the aforementioned trans women as the actor was in drag. Interesting that they can manage that, huh?)

Oh btw.....taiwan has a very complicated history but ignore all the bad stuff it’s good now you can kinda sorta get married and stuff. KMT? You know how i learned that? I care about human beings and read about it lmao. I am not Taiwanese and look at that. So now I have historical and DIALECTICAL~**~*~****~*~*~ context so i can judge it as an artist, a black woman from america, and from the knowledge i have to pick up on their history to see if this fits into a broader picture besides the micro-one of sexuality on an individualized level. And this is kinda where it comes full circle: these shows are not you, you are not them, they do not exist in a vacuum because nothing does. The failure to critique now means continuing on as it has and it will still do so. History and time are not linear in the sense we think it is. Someitmes things are better, sometimes things feel more austere. We are not living under liberation though and these shows are not going to do so. So they are not US nor are they for a nebulous “us” of which the groups are all fractured and have diff opinions anyway (my opinion as a black american is going to vary from an asian woman’s say and that could really clash and i do not feel solidarity with all those in every community i am for several reasons.)

Final thots that have taken up my time and the only thing i actually wanted to write but got distracted:

Anyway my dissertation is that I ilke Muren and LiCheng a lot a lot and i like how cute they are and how truly dumb li cheng is. This is an example of mostly good writing, decent actors, nice chemistry, and sort of a calmness to them. And I super enjoy how Muren is pretty forward with LC in the sense that being together is like very important to truly be together. When he was like “no i didnt forget!” Or when LC asked him something in the office I forget it was 6 am and again i almost threw up and muren nodded and then LC leaned on him. Very cute. I want more of them tho i may have to skip that othre couple (the cameo the ones from MODC) but omfg the younger one HIS HAIR GREW SO MUCH HE LOOKS SO MATURE AND CUTE OMFGIJ0HUG9SAOGIJPKOAGJSIOHUAGIJP hahhaha the one good thing i will say about THEM.idk how old the actor is i figure he was young idk it makes me happy to see him he’s very cute. I hope he’s in something i can watch and not gag at. Is he hot? Who knows but he is a cutie!!

Anyway muren and lc have a good thing going it’s nice to watch ho\pe they dont fuck it up but im truly a sucker for some true finds 2 luvas i think some user on her\e was like i’m not a fan of friends ot lovers bc it doesn’t seem like they’re actually friends and maybe they were referring to this show idk. But it made me think and it was a very good observation. So i think they are friends and also luvrs <3

[katniiss]

i love you the way a knife loves a heart; tyril x mc

[also on ao3]

So it’s true, then.

Her family is dead. She is the sole survivor of her house. And she will never meet them. There’s not even ghosts of them left behind for her to speak to.

It’s something she has known all her life, she supposes, but the confirmation still hurts more than she expected it to.

[[MORE]]

She’s not naive to the lives lost in the wars before her birth, not really. Even elves who were raised the same as humans know of the massacre and how few escaped. She learnt of it as a paragraph in the footnotes of human history, a tradgedy but not something to be studied. But she cannot remember her birth family, or how they died or left her or— all she knows is, one moment they must have been there and the next she awoke on a deserted road outside Riverbend, cold and frightened and almost feral.

Kaden hadn’t been afriad of her, though. Nor had his father, recently widowed and his son needing a companion. Besides, Kaden told her later in secretive whispers, “I think he always wanted a daughter.”

And for eighteen years - or however long it has been, time means little to elves or orcs, only humans with their limited lifespan hold it with such reverence - she’s tried to be that. She’s never left the village, helped her father on the farm as best she could, hid her elven ears for years until the summer after her seventeenth year when it became too hot for her to hide her face. Children had teased her at school, being the only one of her kind for a thousand miles, and it’s...a kind of loneliness she can not describe. She used to dream of going to Undermount the moment she first learnt of it, to see her people, people who looked like her and would not judge her for her oversensitive perceptions or her skin.

And it’s certainly not everything she dreamt of, but Tyril is almost like the knight her childhood self dreamt of. But how can she know? The elven knight in her dreams was always faceless; it was the cheers and smiles of her father and Kaden that mattered to her. Tyril tall, at least, and brave and she would like to braid his hair if he would allow it.

“What do you know of House Nightbloom?” She finds herself asking him, in the dead of night, when she finds herself consumed by the words of the founder of House Starfury.

“I...” Tyril sighs. “When I was growing up, my tutors spent a year making a large family tree. Or forest, rather. It had every elven family who ever existed, and it spanned a whole half of the house by the time it was done. House Nightbloom was there, of course, a minor but noble house with the poor luck of having fewer descendants since their nobility and loyalty to sadly corrupt leaders led to many of their untimely deaths.”

“So after all these years, I find out that I’m the blood of traitors and idiots?” She digs her nails into her palms. “Fantastic. Love that for me.”

“You are the most loyal and intelligent elf I’ve ever met, and don’t let tell yourself otherwise!” Tyril insists. She notices, he only ever seems to become passionate when it involves her, and if he were speaking of anything but a family she will never know she might shove him against a tree and kiss him insane. But his eyes darken again and he informs her, gravely. “House Nightbloom was supposedly wiped out during the last stand. But there is much we don’t know about that battle. And many houses, especially minor ones, kept information about births to themselves lest another house try and steal their heir. They were brave and clever and true-“

“But they still died. And left me.”

She almost expects Tyril to shrug, but then remembers this is a human movement so foreign to elves of his station. “The tutor who created the family forest left us unexpectedly when it was complete. The next tutor burnt off the names and houses of everyone killed during the wars. As you can imagine, there was hardly anything or anyone left. And I’m sorry. I do not believe they went to die with the intention of leaving you orphaned. But even if they did, your destiny is not determined by something so arciac as what humanity calls biology. You can be whatever you wish to be. You are special. Humanity believes no one is special, but that isn’t true, everyone is special. Look how far we’ve come, and it’s you who truly brought us all together! Brave, beautiful and stubborn as you are, you are also just what was needed. And I assure you, I will not allow you to die anytime soon.”

“You talk so much,” She comments as lightly as if he were rambling about the moss of the old forest and not words of wisdom and a romantic kindness she has always secretly yearned for. “Thank you for telling me all this, Tyril. I think the surname Nightbloom suits me. Perhaps it might pair with Starfury?”

She knows she’s distracting him away from talk of her heritage with talk of marriage, but she still loves to watch him blush because of her. She finds it so difficult to believe no one has ever flirted with him so brazenly, but again, Mal’s repeatly admonished the bordem elves subject themselves to. He finds himself smiling.

“Time will tell, Lady Nightbloom.”

“Gods, don’t ever call me Lady again,” She says and kisses him hard. “But I think you like not being a Lord. You like someone else taking control for once. And you like that it’s me.”

He kisses her again, and doesn’t deny it.

notes: don’t ask me where this came from lol just wanted mc to angst about birth family after chapter 12 @starfurys tagging u bc he’s ur husband

[artificialqueens]

Bet You Look Good On The Dancefloor, 5 (Branjie) (and background everyone) - Ortega

a/n: HOORAY last of the strictly rewrites!!! thank u sm for ur patience if ur still waiting on chapter 6, i promise i’ll make it soon! lots of lo-ove, by-ee!!

fic summary: Strictly Come Dancing enters its 18th series and its producers, after being goaded by a rival dance show on its inclusivity, commission it to be an all-female cast. Unlike Akeria who’s just here to bone her potential dance partner, dancer Vanessa is ready to act like a professional.

And then TV presenter Brooke Lynn walks into the rehearsal room.

***

“And…one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three, one-two-three-”

“Goddamnit shit cunt bitch fuck piss in my mouth,” Brooke exhales frustratedly all at once, and Vanessa holds back an involuntary chuckle. It would be funny if it didn’t hit so close to home. It’s only twelve o’clock and it’s day three of rehearsals but already Brooke’s entire body language is defeated, like a burst balloon, and Vanessa is worried.

It’s all her fault, really. The scores from Saturday night still burn her brain if she thinks about them too much, hot coals on a grate. Twenty one out of forty. If it were a grade in a test it’d barely be a pass, and Vanessa can practically see her eyes turn green in the studio mirrors if she thinks about the fact they were sixth on the leaderboard behind Jan and Jackie, Crystal and Gigi, Monique and Monet, Akeria and Asia and Jaida and Yvie. Vanessa does not do sixth. Vanessa does not do anything other than top three, and the fact that she ended last week in the middle of the leaderboard enrages her. Okay, she knows this isn’t her journey- it’s Brooke’s, but Vanessa has a reputation to uphold; it’s her first year and she cannot be seen as a dud pro. So on Sunday she’d channeled her fighting spirit into an appropriate dance, and this week they’re doing a Paso Doble. Well. They’re meant to be doing a Paso Doble, but it’s fast and it’s frenetic and Brooke isn’t managing to get her head around this one particular section. Vanessa feels like packing it in, to tell the producers they’re doing something else, but really what kind of person would she be if she pulled that stunt? So instead she’s been watching Brooke become increasingly irritated at herself since 8 this morning and tried to come up with a way she can teach it that’ll work.

“This is my fault,” Vanessa verbalises what she’s thinking and bites her lip. “I’ve made this too hard.”

Brooke suddenly freezes and glares at her. “Are you saying I’m shit?”

PANIC. “No, fuck no! That’s not it at all, I just-”

Vanessa suddenly relaxes as Brooke splutters a held-in laugh, thumping her on the arm. “Shut the fuck up, bitch! I was nervous.”

“Not as nervous as I am about this fucking dance,” Brooke sighs, running her hands down her face slowly. Vanessa looks at the clock and makes a decision.

“You hungry?”

Brooke shrugs. “I am quite, now you mention it.”

“Good. Get your jacket. We’re gonna get lunch.”

Brooke winces. “But I still haven’t got-”

“We have got all damn day to learn this motherfuckin’ dance, now will you put your jacket on and let’s go?” Vanessa says firmly, Brooke giving a little laugh, shaking her head in resignation before crossing the room to grab her things. Vanessa’s pleased, and there’s small fireworks going off in her heart. She’s just asked Brooke to lunch and she’s said yes, not that Vanessa gave her much of a choice admittedly. As Brooke holds the door of the studio open for her, Vanessa starts wondering about where they could go to eat. She’s distracted by the way they’re walking down the corridor side-by-side, the way that Brooke stays close to her despite the fact there’s plenty room for them to have their own space. Vanessa feels like putting an arm around her waist, then decides against it. That kind of contact is special, reserved for a Saturday night after their dance is over and they’re standing together in front of the judges.

They walk out into the chilly October air, and Vanessa’s regretting only taking her hoodie out with her. The weather is quintessentially British- it had been raining that morning but now it has subsided, so the paving slabs glisten with puddles and the cars that go by roll smoothly through the rain-sheened roads and the grey clouds still hang heavy and ominous in the sky. Normally weather like this makes Vanessa yearn for her trips back to Puerto Rico, where the October temperatures are what the UK could only dream of in Summer, but standing outside in the cold and damp doesn’t seem so bad with Brooke looking at her expectantly.

“Where d’you wanna go?” she asks her. Brooke shrugs.

“Starbucks? Take it back and we can eat while we practise?”

Vanessa lets out a laugh and rolls her eyes, both irritated and impressed by Brooke’s dedication. She has a think and then remembers that place a few streets along from the studios where she, Akeria and Monique had grabbed brunch one time before a pro dance rehearsal. The thought of poached eggs with golden yolks on avocado toast makes her stomach rumble and she jerks her head in its direction. “C’mon.”

The walk and the fresh, icy air works a treat at clearing Vanessa’s head and by the time she and Brooke grab a wobbly wooden table by the steamed-up window in the cafe she’s feeling loads better about their Paso even though technically it’s still a mess. She picks up the menu despite knowing exactly what she wants and gives it a scan before Brooke plucks it unceremoniously out of her hands.

“Hey!”

“What?” Brooke smirks knowingly. Vanessa doesn’t complain further, instead indulging in the way Brooke’s eyes dart about as she scans the dishes on the menu, the way her brow furrows and the way she bites her bottom lip as she thinks. When Brooke looks at her again, Vanessa rushes to pretend she hadn’t had her eyes on her first.

“They have some really nice stuff here.”

Vanessa nudges the fork on the table a little to the left. “Me, Kiki an’ Monique went here a couple weeks back. They both had pancakes and they were really good apparently, so…”

She tails off, and Brooke nods. “You’re close with them, huh?”

“Well, we’re all kind of like sisters. All the dancers. In, like…the most literal way possible. We bicker and bitch and steal each others’ makeup and clothes but we love each other underneath it all. But yeah, those two are my girls,” Vanessa smiles involuntarily as she thinks about her friends. She thinks before adding, “They helped me through all the shit last year.”

Brooke smiles sympathetically and nods. “That’s cute that you’re all, like, a family.”

“It’s real nice. ‘Specially since all I really have here is my Mom, and I don’t get to see her all that often.”

Brooke leans her chin on her hands, listening intently. Vanessa realises she’s left her last sentence a little cryptic, so she elaborates. “We came over from San Juan when I was two. Fuck knows why my Mom wanted to leave, but we did. The rest of my family’s still over there- my Abuela, my Tia and Tio, all my lil’ cousins.”

“Do you get to visit much?” Brooke asks. Vanessa nods a yes.

“Way more nowadays than I ever got to when I was little. Obviously when we first came here we didn’t have a huge amount of money but my Mom always made sure to save enough to fly back every Summer for the school holidays an’ stuff.”

Vanessa pauses and looks out of the window. Her stomach feels tight with guilt. “But obviously it got harder when I started wanting to dance, cuz hell, if this country don’t like giving out free school meals then they sure as hell hate subsidisin’ your dance classes.”

Brooke laughs humourlessly in agreement. Vanessa picks at her cuticles as she keeps talking, stares at the table to avoid Brooke’s eyes. “So there were sometimes Summers when we couldn’t afford to go back over because of me. That was hard. My Mom was always really good about it and encouraged me and said it was fine but I still remember her on the phone to my family and how much she cried afterwards…damn. I felt like shit. Guess I still do.”

Brooke pulls a sympathetic face. “But I mean, you’ve been able to go back since then, right? So what do you have to be guilty for?”

“I don’t know,” Vanessa shrugs sharply, frowns a little. “I guess it was just selfish of me. Lookin’ back I should’ve thought about my Mom more.”

“Yeah, but it all worked out for the best. You’re now able to fly her out way more frequently because of the career you’re in, because of the sacrifices you both made back then. Right?”

Vanessa feels something bloom in her ribcage as she smiles at Brooke. Her eyes are kind and she’s talking like a therapist and listening to all of Vanessa’s pent-up guilt and regret even though she has absolutely no responsibility or obligation to do so. “Yeah. Sorry. I just kinda dumped all that on you.”

Brooke shakes her head. “Don’t be silly. This is nice.”

Nice. It is nice. It’s nice to sit in a busy, cosy cafe with Brooke while outside is cold and damp and talk about her life and be listened to. Vanessa feels content and peaceful for the first time perhaps since this competition started. Her mind hasn’t been this clear in a while.

“What about your family?” Vanessa asks. Brooke smiles involuntarily as she gazes at the ceiling. It’s cute.

“Aw, I miss them so much. My Mommy, my total queen and my rock. I love her,” she says happily. Vanessa can’t help but smile at her words. She knows what it’s like to cling to her Mom as growing up they only really had each other. Brooke folds her arms as she continues. “And then I’ve got my older brother and two older sisters who I love to death as well. But I don’t miss my sisters. Well, I don’t miss the way they borrow half my fucking outfits.”

Vanessa snorts a laugh as Brooke shakes her head long-sufferingly. “So you’re the baby of the family then?”

Brooke shrugs. “An overgrown baby at thirty years old, but yeah. All my siblings are either in relationships or married so you can imagine how fun that is whenever I go back to Canada, getting questioned by the fucking relationship Gestapo.”

The sentence makes Vanessa’s heart start climbing the stairs of hope, and she’s not even attempting to stop it. She fidgets with a corner of her paper napkin as she speaks again. “Oh, so you ain’t…you’re not seeing anyone at the moment, then?”

“Why, who’s asking?” Brooke cocks an eyebrow. Vanessa instantly feels her cheeks flood scarlet, and Brooke lets out a howl of a laugh. “Kidding, kidding! No, I’m not seeing anyone.”

“Right, right,” Vanessa nods as nonchalantly as she can. She thinks about testing deeper conversational waters, considers killing two birds of curiosity with one stone. They’re on the topic of relationships, and who knows when they’ll get onto it again, so she decides to dive in. “Just thought you might, y’know…have a boyfriend. Or somethin’.”

“No, no boyfriend,” Brooke says simply. She leans her head on the fist she’s made and raises her eyebrows a little, giving Vanessa a quick once-over. “Or girlfriend.”

It’s the answer she’s been hoping for, confirming her suspicions that Brooke’s into girls, but the flirting panics her and so Vanessa reaches for the discarded menu to fidget with as she lightly shrugs, moving the conversation along with all the tact and delicacy of a steamroller. “So you live on your own then?”

“Yeah. Just me.”

“Me too. You like it?”

Brooke pulls a face, looks down in thought for a second. “Sometimes. Part of me likes the feeling of being completely on my own, because I can do literally whatever the hell I want, take things at my own pace. There’s nobody to nag me or tell me what to do. I realise that makes me sound literally half my age, but it’s true. I can sing as loud as I want.”

“You sing?” Vanessa asks, intrigued. Brooke laughs.

“I didn’t say I sing well!” she snorts, and Vanessa lets out a giggle too. Brooke continues, her gaze focused on the world outside the window as she speaks. “It’s nice though, that feeling of freedom. On the other hand I just miss, like…coexisting with someone? I don’t know. Like when I came to uni over here and I had flatmates and there was that feeling of comfort to know that there was always someone in the next room to talk to, or make dinner with, or just watch TV with. Just someone to do normal shit with. You know?” Brooke narrows her eyes as she finishes her sentence, appealing to Vanessa.

“Yeah, I get it,” Vanessa replies, letting out a little sigh as she lets a few memories in and then slams that particular door firmly shut. “I miss that too, sometimes.”

The silence lingers between the two of them for a second before Brooke speaks again, her tone upbeat and cheerful. “But I mean, for the most part, my flat’s great. It’s part of this new-build, hi-tech apartment complex that only got done building last year. We’ve got a gym, there’s a shop at the bottom, there’s meeting rooms we can book…”

“Yeah, I think you told me about the gym once,” Vanessa nods in recognition, and Brooke’s smile widens as she has an idea.

“You should come round some time. You’d love it.”

Vanessa tries to stop the blush that threatens to hit her face. The invitation is personal and not rehearsal or show related, and that fact shouldn’t make her as happy as it does. She fixes Brooke with a smile and nods shyly. “Yeah. That’d be cool.”

Still visibly buoyed, Brooke reaches across the table and rests her hand on top of Vanessa’s, patting it gently. There’s a little spark of static when they touch, a metaphor come to life. When Brooke smiles at her, Vanessa feels comfortable.

“This was a good idea. Thanks for dragging me out.”

Vanessa shrugs, doesn’t move her hand. She smiles lazily at her dance partner. “It’s okay. We both needed a break.”

As the waiter comes to take their order Brooke’s hand flies out from its position on top of hers, but Vanessa doesn’t mind. There’s a connection that’s been forged that isn’t physical, and she knows it’s still there even if Brooke’s hand isn’t.

Rehearsal ends up going smoother the rest of that day. Okay- it’s not perfect, but Brooke starts picking it up and Vanessa’s mind is less cloudy. Thursday brings more rain and full runs of the dance that don’t go smoothly but Vanessa is relieved because at least they’ve fucking learned it. By Friday they’re exhausted and worn out and Vanessa hates this dance, hates this fucking dance, but it’s one step closer to being over for good. She’s disappointed when it occurs to her that they’re not going to get particularly favourable scores- their run is still riddled with mistakes, but at least Brooke’s worked hard on what she was critiqued for last week. Her core is stronger due to the planks Vanessa’s been making them both do at the start of every rehearsal and her elbow hasn’t drooped once- not that there’s much chance for it to during a Paso, but at least the judges will be able to see that she’s taking their comments on board. Vanessa’s proud of her. She tells Brooke so before they go home on Friday night, when it’s quiet outside and different shades of dark. She thinks Brooke might be blushing as she thanks her and says goodbye, but she can’t be sure.

Saturday happens in a frighteningly fast blur- there’s excitement but it’s nervous instead of anticipative, as everybody knows that tonight one couple will be eliminated. Vanessa’s not really worried about that though- the bottom of the leaderboard last week was comprised of Courtney and Blair, Plastique and Scarlet, Willam and Phi Phi and Aja and Farrah, so in comparison she supposes sixth isn’t too bad. Her aim for tonight’s dance had been to climb up the leaderboard a bit, but knowing how their Paso’s been going Vanessa will call it a success if they both stay where they are.

It turns out they drop down to seventh behind Shea and Peppermint, after their American Smooth has the judges on their feet. Brooke and Vanessa’s Paso goes…well, it goes. It’s not the best they’ve done it but it’s done, thank God, and they never have to do it again.

Unless of course they’re in the dance off. But Vanessa doesn’t permit herself to think about that. Instead, she thinks about the warmth of Brooke’s hand in hers as they walk through the corridor together after their judge’s critiques and their interview. Neither of them address the fact their hands are entwined, and that’s okay. Vanessa likes it like that.

“You okay?” she asks Brooke, halfway down the hallway, as their character shoes squeak quietly against the laminate flooring and they cast fleeting shadows against the manila walls.

Brooke sighs a little, gives a half-hearted shrug. “Yeah.”

“No you’re not. C’mere,” Vanessa frowns, using the hand she’s holding to pull Brooke into a hug. It’s gentle and tight all at once, the way Brooke’s strong arms are holding her close contrasting with the way her hands are light against her back. Brooke smells of a Saturday night: tan in a bottle and hairspray and Jimmy Choo Flash perfume. It’s not like her usual scent of freshly-washed hair and her fabric softener (Lenor Gold Orchid- Vanessa had smelt them all rather self-indulgently on her last trip to Tesco to work out which was Brooke’s).

“I don’t want to let you down,” Brooke whispers above her, and Vanessa can tell she’s got tears in her eyes without even having to look into them. She takes a deep breath and shakes her head against her chest.

“You could go out there, forget the entire dance and do the fucking Macarena for all I care. You always make me proud.”

Vanessa feels Brooke press a kiss to the top of her head and it sets off a blush she can feel spreading down her face onto her neck and across her chest. Brooke had kissed her again after their dance had finished, quick and emphatic against her temple, and it had set off butterflies in her stomach that threatened to fly up into the rigging of the lights. Vanessa wants to get caught up in the moment, wants even to hold her gaze and see how she’d react if she asked to kiss her properly, but instead she pulls herself out of the hug. She keeps their hands connected though and as she meets Brooke’s eyes and finds that she’s smiling at her, Vanessa concludes it was the right decision to make.

“Fuck the scores,” she says, remembering each paddle (4, 5, 5, 5) with a sting as if she’s been smacked with them. “The Paso wasn’t for us and it’s over now. On to the next one.”

“Unless we’re in the dance off.”

“Brooke Lynn, Bianca gave Blair a two. I think we’ll be fine.”

Vanessa isn’t wrong, and it turns out their position looks better compared to some of the other dances they see once they’ve been through makeup to get neatened up again. Poor Scarlet tries her best to get through her Jive with Plastique but her feet just aren’t doing the things Vanessa knows Scarlet wants them to, and the judges give them a combined score of fifteen. Scarlet looks deflated as she leaves the dancefloor and the moment their interview is over Vanessa watches as Yvie pulls her into a hug (Vanessa knows that type of hug because she’s just given Brooke the exact same one). Aja and Farrah’s Samba wasn’t great either and they earn themselves a mark of seventeen. Despite this, though, by the time the show finishes and they have to assemble to film the results (which are pre-recorded and then broadcast on a Sunday), they’re both a bag of nerves. She and Brooke are placed on the stairs with a spotlight burning down onto them, ants under a magnifying glass. The mood between the couples is decidedly tense, and as Vanessa looks down at the girls on the dancefloor she sees Monet squeeze Monique’s waist as Monique sighs and rests her head against the other girl’s shoulder. Vanessa wants to scoff at the fact they both seem nervous. The waltz they did almost brought the house down and they even got a nine from Laganja, so unless the only votes they got were ones they gave themselves, they’re very likely to be safe.

Michelle does her intro and, as the lights go down, Vanessa feels as if her heart is going to break her ribcage it’s beating so heavily.

“I can now reveal that the first couple safe and through to next week is…”

Long pause. The beat of a drum and Brooke’s pulse that Vanessa can feel through the hand she’s holding. Vanessa is so nervous that she casts her eyes up to the heavens. Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee…

“Jan and Jackie!”

Jan screams and Jackie falls gratefully into her arms as she yells a “thank you!” at the camera that’s barely heard over the applause.

“The second couple safe is…”

Blessed art thou amongst women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Vanessa gives a minute bow of her head like her Mom taught her to do at mass when she was little. Is it sacreligious to pray if you’re lapsed? Some priests probably think so. Vanessa hopes it’s working in their favour anyway.

“Heidi and Vixen!”

Vanessa can’t see their reaction as they’re positioned above them at the very top of the stairs, and she doesn’t want to turn around in case…it’s bad luck? She doesn’t know. At this point she’s not risking anything, not even looking up to see Brooke’s face.

“The next couple safe and through to next week is…”

Holy Mary, Mother of God…you take away the sins of the world? Nah, that’s the wrong one. Fuck.

“Gigi and Crystal!”

Vanessa wants to roll her eyes, much as she’s happy for her friend. Of course they’re safe. They were second on the leaderboard last week and first tonight after a scarily in-sync Charleston. It comes as no surprise to her.

“The first couple in tonight’s dance-off will be…”

Vanessa feels truly nauseous. It wouldn’t be impossible for it to be them, stranger things have happened on the show. What the fuck is that next line? Holy Mary, Mother of God…

“Blair and Courtney.”

Vanessa’s heart feels as if it’s been shocked by jumpleads. She feels Brooke give an involuntary squeeze of her hand, and Vanessa strokes her thumb against hers in return. They just need to not be the other couple in the dance off. It’s doable.

“The next couple safe and through to next week is…”

…pray for us sinners now and at the hour of our death-

“Brooke and Vanessa!”

Vanessa doesn’t screech or scream. Instead she finally turns to Brooke, who’s meeting her smile with a matching one plastered across her own face. She falls into her outstretched arms in relief, and mumbles a “thank you” to the camera while Brooke holds her tight. They’ve made it. They live to fight another week.

Amen.

Of course, one couple isn’t so lucky and, after a tense dance-off between Scarlet and Plastique and Blair and Courtney, it turns out Blair is the first celebrity to leave the competition. The girls get upset- the celebrities have all become a part of their big, crazy family now, and it’s sad that Vanessa will no longer hear Blair laugh at something Vixen has said, or compliment her on her makeup, or ask to get selfies with everyone in the dressing room. It’s Vixen, though, who is affected the most by Blair’s departure. Vanessa knows they’re good friends but she wonders if perhaps they’ll ever become something more as she watches Vixen cling to Yvie and sob and sob. The moment they’re all allowed, the pros and celebrities flood the dancefloor as Blair and Courtney dance their last dance. Vixen makes a beeline for Blair and Courtney graciously steps out of her way so the pair of them can hug and cry in tandem.

“Shit, this is rough,” Vanessa mutters to nobody in particular. Monique, who’s materialised beside her, shrugs.

“Yep, well. I don’t plan on havin’ to go through it, so it’s not a problem for me.”

Vanessa snorts at her friend’s cockiness, then pulls a sympathetic face as Blair approaches the pair of them, all streaming mascara and sniffles.

“C’mere, baby. You did so well, be proud of yourself,” Vanessa offers to her, and Blair smiles gently before her face crumples again.

“Just…look after my girl, okay?” she asks them hopefully. Monique smiles, rubs her forearm gently.

“Oh, sweetie, Courtney will be fine, she’s a big girl.”

“Courtney?” Blair asks, confused. Then she appears to realise something and she smiles back at Monique, a little embarrassed. “Oh no, um…I meant Toni. Can you both look out for her? Make sure she’s okay after I’m gone? I mean I know her and Heidi are going to go far, but…y’know.”

Vanessa wants to cock an eyebrow at Monique in recognition, but she doesn’t. Instead she gives Blair a reassuring look, takes her hand and squeezes it gently. “Sure we will.”

Appeased, Blair thanks them and gives them both a hug before moving on to say goodbye to some of the other girls. As she walks away, Vanessa hears Monique give a big sigh beside her. She tilts her head at her friend inquisitively. “You ‘kay?”

“Yeah, uh…” Monique sighs, rubs her eyes a little. “Could we do lunch at some point this week? Me, you, Kiki. I just need my girls’ advice.”

“About what?” Vanessa asks her. Then, as she follows Monique’s gaze over to where Monet is standing talking to Shea and Aja, the penny drops. “Oh. OH. Okay. Yeah, we’ll do lunch, bitch.”

Monique smiles gratefully at her, then gives her a hug and a goodnight as she’s starting choreography early tomorrow. The coming week’s theme is movies, which is always fun, and Vanessa already has a number in mind. It’s ridiculous, and so quintessentially Strictly. She can’t wait to show it to Brooke.

As Vanessa thinks of Brooke, she finds her eyes scanning the group of girls to see where she is. She’s smiling as she’s talking to Plastique and Scarlet, her smile bright and dazzling and her eyes kind. The lights are hitting her highlight and making it look as if she’s glowing, and her hair catches the light too in its smooth and glossy bun.

Vanessa feels her heart yearn, and she considers the possibility that perhaps it won’t just be Monique talking about the feelings she has for her partner when they both go to lunch with Akeria.

[ryunhovld]

rubs my hands together like a fly on ur wall what can i say except (you’re welcome) i’ve never been more excited to join a group in my life. i really am so giddy y’all can’t even imagine. you can call me saturn, i’m 20 years old, go by he/him and i'm coming to you with some real breaking news. pure essence of good vibes has taken human form and crashed into the earth. his name is ryunho, he’s a ‘00 liner, current trainee and danger’s lead rapper / vocalist. pop down under the cut for more on this hot story!

tidbit bio.

he was born in seogwipo on jeju island, handed off to the care of his grandparents bc his mom was just a teen! they adopt him and as far as he knows, they are his parents. never met his birth mother or father ever. he’s an only child which made him kind of a lonely kid but hey, he’s doin alright now you know. growing up, there really was no shortage of love for him, even if he grew up relatively poor. he’s very curious & bubbly, really had no idea what to do with all his energy back then so he just pestered the older kids in the neighborhood.

cut to middle school and boy done got infected with the music bug. his very first instrument is an absolutely awful red little recorder but he cherished it more than anything. he and his friends take turns on a guitar one of them owns. his father found a much better job opportunity in canada which meant better living conditions for his family so rj has to pack up and zip across the ocean. not so fun for him- like at all. struggled a lot with some real intense loneliness for a long time / had to go through a lot to adapt to his new life but in the end he came out okay & wound up making friends just fine in the end. 

in highschool, he’s drawing friends in like a sponge. he’s a real charmer, the kind that just seemed to come effortlessly. he spread himself pretty thin back then, every other night at someone’s house helping them through a rough breakup or taking them to his to cheer them up after a rough day. it got to a point he was really draining himself but he just kept goin.. cause he knew he could handle it if people just kept being happy bc of him. his love for music only gets stronger, used music to cope and even still does. by now he’d nearly mastered playing drums, guitar & piano.

with a pocket full of dreams, he’s back in south korea to pursue his dreams. a big picture in mind of giving the same comfort some of his favorite artists gave him. he becomes a trainee under kmg after passing global auditions fresh out of highschool and has been training for nearing two years now.

as far as the image he portrays to the public at large, it’s not much different from his real self. he plays more into his confidence, a shameless fan service king. 

personality.

has a very live and let live attitude, very tolerant and mellow. often gets tossed into mediator positions because of this. you could spit in his face and he’d be like ‘lmao ok fair enough’ definitely ‘treat people the way you want to be treated’ than ‘treat people the way they treat you’ guy. you could treat him like an ant under your boot and he’d still treat you the same, doesn’t mean he’ll forget tho.

not really trusting despite all this though & he’s definitely not naive cause he’s well aware how people can be, just chooses to be kinder than they are. 

a stingy bastard with his things. genuinely hasn’t had to share much in his life so he’s pretty possessive of his things & it’s taken a lot to get over. sharing a space with a bunch of other people really didn’t bode well, but he got used to it.

thinks the weaknesses of others are admirable and make them who they are but can’t do the same for his own yIKE! realizes a sliver of his weakness and yeets himself. dreads having people know he’s not always vibin cause he’s human afterall.

truly does not know the meaning of the word stop when it comes to kindness, even if it winds up sucking the life out of him. his need to make people happy is too stronk. will toss his happiness like a wet paper towel for someone else.

determined to a fault... you could tell him what he’s attempting is LITERALLY impossible and he still will not give up if he’s already set his mind to accomplishing it. ( rj u cannot count every grain of sand on earth.. BUT HE CAN TRY ) really tears himself down if he can’t reach a goal he’s set or get something done.

his stats can be found here and plots page here ! 

[estuarries]

baby’s first liveshow commentary

hello lads i have decided to attempt doing @nihilist-toothpaste​ inspired video commentary/write up/review thingies!!!! welcome to ramble-y fun time

phil’s liveshow on august 10, 2017

his smile in the first minute makes my heart so happy i love him so much

i love the eye-tongue-eye emoji stop being mean to it

he’s a bit late bc he just finished filming a new ap vid!!! it took him longer than he thought it would to finish filming bc he was rambling. this is a #relatable brain thing

“i just said goodbye and now i’m saying hello again!” wrt filing and then doing a liveshow makes me rly happy bc i wouldn’t have thought abt it that way. i love phil’s brain

new vid clues: paper bag(?) and bubble wrap. amazingphil asmr part ii??

dan’s not joining the liveshow bc he has a headache but phil’s gonna hop into dan’s next one

closed eyes and happy gesticulation whilst telling sleepy-morning “unexpected window cleaning man frightened me” story

phil’s fight/flight/freeze response is freeze

“imagine if i had decided to make breakfast naked! ...if i was that kind of person…” its okay m8 we know u like to make nakey bro brunches w danyul

are the emoji pants the only pair of graphic pj pants he has now ??? why are they being featured so prominently lately ???? phil IS an emoji is the only phnnie conspiracy i can support now

in the ap vid phil did SCIENCE and REACTED TO THINGS (chemistry . reaction . hehe :3)

he’s out of tv shows to watch ….he and dan have watched so many series together over the years ..... i am emotional

phil hasnt watched in a heartbeat EITHER !! BLASPHEMOUS BOYES!!!

re: rick and morty. i strongly agree and it makes me so nervous that rick burps all the time i cannot focus on whats happening in the show bc rick gives me so much anxiety

he misses the cherry blossom tree in thehowlter’s front yard and they are hopefully going to put it in when they have money

“you’re all like dan! not everything has to be symmetrical!” thank u for these affirmations that not everything has to be perfect thank u for being chill. a chill phil. 

“i dont mind a little bit of wonkiness!” “i’m at a bit of a wonk!” “is the entire house wonky?” the only real phil branding is ~WOnKy~

phils hands are so beautiful???? i love them?????? @ 8:50ish

him trying to figure out his best side and saying “one? or two?” as options like at the optometrist when ur getting ur eyes checked. 

someone in the chat: “both!” phil’s cheeky grin/”don’t flatter me!!!” response

someone in the chat: “side three!” i snort laughed along w phil this is truly Good Content. dark!phil RISE

phil doesn’t think he really has a bad side and his easy neutrality wrt his physical appearance is dreamy. i love him and i love that he’s comfy w himself like this

phil had an eye infection and this is the first day he’s been without glasses…… why does he glasses-bait us like this …..

it’s really hard for him to concentrate with dilated pupils so that’s why he was being a wee bit wonky in the last liveshow

his eye is no longer infected and is “white and ready to see!”. the tone of his voice, his accent, and the phrasingof that reminded me so much of my british grandma who i havent seen in a few years and now i want to call her i miss her

wicked was “as the kids say...Wicked.” I SNORTED AKLHFAEIHKF

also i cannot believe that he and dan used the same silly phrasewhen talking about their opinions of wicked. is it still #copyrightinfringement if its your bf blatantly enterprising ur intellectual property?

phil was feeling a bit meh going into wicked but now he’s converted and a fan

he loved defying gravity :(

phil: every audience is important! me: crying

phil loves coming-of-age/college/highschool aus … Me Too

phil remix: the top fans to the tune of mad world “all around me are familiar faces...lillyphanstuff, joteleena…”

he’s had “mad world” and also that fuckin. ditty song stuck in his head

“...is one thicc bih - NO!” is the best thing ive ever heard

im so sad that phil hasnt experienced the joys of ditty. apparently he doesn’t have it downloaded and doesn’t really know what it is

14:07 is my new ringtone (he sang the ditty tune in “doot doot doot”s)

“bandicussy” IM DEAD

phil thought it was a good family activity to see dunkirk but it made his parents very emotional bc his maternal grandad was in the war

making your entire family cry is apparently the phil way to entertain

neither he nor dan understood the timelines of dunkirk upon first watch

after filming his ap vid he sanitized using vanilla cupcake hand sanitizer

he watches zoe’s bath and bodyworks candle/lotion hauls??????? ME TOO!!!!!!!!!!!!

apparently b&bw has some ~priiiicey~ candles. phil is the coupon clipping, consumer reports reading dad

he said that livestreaming games on dapg would be “dope”. i am reminded for the millionth time that he is a 30 year old white man. i am moderately uncomfortable.

jk it was someone in the chat who said it he was just reading the comment

“hi to the ‘phan’s moving boxes’ group chat”

facterino according to the nature man on tv: in england nature has decided that it’s autumn already. this is evidenced by blackberries coming out in august. because fall isstartingso early they’re expected to have a harsh winter but its fine bc he is excited for snow!

some climate change discourse

he’s not a big doctor who fan but his fav doctor is david tennant

he’s excited for the “lady doctor” and i’m uh. not a huge fan of that wording

23:02 pre-sneeze noises and hand motions are Delightful

apparently it’s southern england peeps who pronounce scone with a hard o (scOHne) and northerners pronounce it with a soft o (scAWn). phillu doesn’t know which pronunciation he uses

my mom grew up in cornwall (and moved to america when she was a teen. i’m american btw!) and pronounces it the northern way. we’ve had the scohne vs scawn debate!! lots of #britishfamilythings in this liveshow

philly homework motivation song @ 24:52

his first response to ppl being sad about school starting in a week is to calculate how many seconds are in a week so they can re-frame their time left in a way that feels more plentiful. i love this ???

i also really love how he tries to read premium messages from different people every time. idk that’s just really thoughtful and as a fan i really appreciate it

he knows that black makes him look good …. GOodBYe

today is world lion day!

phil is the one who puts the funny/random holidays on the dnp calendars. of course it was but im still so happily surprised  

doinganap’s sicth/sixth discourse

he’s reading people from the chat’s bdays and telling them what funny holidays are on their birthdays! i love how he finds different ways to get ppl in the chat involved every liveshow. i appreciate him so much !like yeah i know its a marketing thing but let me pretend its solely phil’s care for us

he wants to go back to japan

he can’t read or edit and listen to music at the same time! me neither

someone asked what a good pet would be and phil went on a lil tangent about how it’s important to have enough time to take care of the pet you choose!! dont get an exotic pet or a breed of non-exotict pet that requires a lot of time, money, or energy to care for it if you’re not at a point in your life where u can take care of it to the best of your ability! <3

hedgehogs are one of the most common animals in the uk??? what the heck?

he can’t remember whether or not he’s seen a hedgehog irl so he texts mum lester to ask <3 why is this the sweetest thing in the world . like seeing a hedgehog irl would be an experience that his family facilitated or even if he was moved out when it happened it would have been so exciting that he def would have told kath about it. so any way it happened she would know about it. my heart is Warm.

he’s not a huge summer candle burner but as soon as it’s september he’ll be on the pumpkin spice train

mum lester texted back and apparently his grandparents had a family of hedgehogs in their garage and his granddad built them a little hedgehog house to hibernate in :( wow!

phil might play shelter 2 … with dan. No Thank You. let us have some phil-only time plz 

shelter 2 is more of an autumnal game so he might do it later when he can cozy up with some cocoa and herd the badger babies

he feels a coffee buzz after five (5) chocolate-covered coffee beans. r u sure u even drink coffee phil????

rye bread is worse (in phil’s opinion) than regular bread and is ”claggy”. i busted out laughing and texted my mom IMMEDIATELY bca LOOOONG time ago we were at a family christmas party with my dad’s extended family and all of the Adults were playing scrabble. my mom ended up spelling claggy and everyone else was like THATS A MADE UP WORD WHAT THE FUCK!!!! and my mom was like ???? no its not? my dad’s family is from the eastern us and had never heard the word claggy before and i remember my dad giving my mom shit about it for YEARS afterward because she caused such an uproar. idk if it was a regional thing or if americans just don’t say claggy but REGARDLESS. my mom and i had a good laugh over this description of rye bread and we both love phil

he’s nervous abt what dalien is going to look like and become as he grows up. phil’s general reaction to dalien has been one of caution and nervousness and idk ?? someone more thoughtful analyze that please

his advice for making the most of the last bits of summer: do something you haven’t done before! immediately after bestowing upon us this Wise Advice he giggles and becomes self aware of his parental tone. Our Dad Is Becoming Self Aware

he doesnt swear around his parents?????? my mom says fuck all the time :0

2018 calendar and season two pastel plushies are in the works!

he’s singing another song to list the top fans. suggestions include toxic, the ditty tune, and the tetris theme. he goes with the ditty song and starts laughing in the middle of it so makes a seamless musical transition to toxic

if everything recorded properly with his new vid we should see it in the next few days!

he hopes that we have a lovely weekend and that whatever we end up doing brings us a bit of happiness :( i love him thank u phil

tiny little bonus song after he covers up the camera. schrodingers phil.

all in all i love phil’s liveshows and this has been the highlight of my day. thank u for reading!

[anonymously-complicated]

"Together forever against life as we know it" -grandma

Growing up this saying was programmed in me pretty early. I dont know where my grandma heard it, maybe family before her, but it was our family mantra. I keep saying it a whole lot lately for encouragement to be strong for her. But it’s hard. You can say I’m just mad. Really really mad. At the world. I’m mad that the things that scare me the most are the things in which i cannot change. Things i can not protect my family from. I’m mad at cancer. I never thought something like this would happen to someone so close to me. And i get it now. I get why people line up and recognize this disease. I understand they too are just mad and wanna talk about it. I guess I’m more mad because i know in my heart that there’s a cure for this shit. Yeah I’m one of those “conspiracy philosophers”. I always said under the white house somewhere in all those tunnels is a cure for everything. But at the same hand i say i dont believe in science completely and they could be wrong. And I’m not in denial i just truly believe that. I believe our bodies are all so different to the point where sometimes the same image is different on our insides. I believe our bodies fight differently and alot of that comes from our spiritual connection with our self. What i mean is if u wanna get better, i think alot of the time you will because ur spirit is built to accept only that. Yeah I’m one of those people too. When i first heard the news i felt ambushed. Like what was i gonna say to this thing i cant fix? What was i gonna say to my mom who had clearly been ballin? So i just asked more about it. “Well, what stage? How are they approaching this? It could be something else. I’m calling grandma i love you.” After i hung up i thought it best not to pester my grandma and make her cry more. I was putting together my new bed frame and i just got up and it hit me. Hard. And the first emotion: anger. Anger so bad they call it rage. I wanted to own a bat just to smash all the windows in my new house. As if that’d help. I can’t fight cancer for her so lets self destruct. Clever one. After anger i just broke down. And instead of crying infront of my husband i walked in the kitchen. I wanted to be alone. And strong. Not cry and be vulnerable waiting to snap like that little twig u never seen until it was too late. I wanted to be invisible so i didnt feel pathetic. After i was done i went back into my room, finished my bed frame then made an excuse to leave, sushi was a good one. I left to go get sushi for me and egg rolls for my husband. He never asked. Never asked what was wrong, I’d say it was lack of care but i believe it was just the opposite i think he was scared of how id break and he knew i couldnt take that. I grabbed my dog and we left. On the way into town i said she could use some positivity because i already knew how everyone had taken it. So i called. When i spoke to her it seemed like the nurse or doctor who told her wasnt sure of herself and what she thought she’d found. However the next day when i went to visit and didnt show up puffy eyed like the rest of my aunts and mom they began to reassure me “ i dont know what she told you shey, but its bad.” My aunt chimes in with “ you know there’s only a 47 percent of survival” as she holds back her over dramatic tears. And i looked at her “ well Britt from what she told me theyre not sure what it is and she’ll find out monday.” They all looked at me like i was crazy. “ no shey theyll find out how far along she is. We all know what it is.” She was making me mad. Making a scene, and making it all about her as i look at gma who cant even walk. So i started with my theory “doctors dont know everything ok? We are all so different and science is not 100 percent.” She looked at me hopelessly. So i just walked away. What did they want from me? To walk in puffy eyed and show my grandma lack of strength? Lack of faith that she could do this whatever it was? No. Hell no. She had them for that. I needed to save face because im not the one who cant walk and crying as if im in as much pain was bull shit. As i drove my mom home she made sure to express to me the severity of all of this. And said “i rather think negative shey because everytime i think positive it bites me in the ass. So think positive if you want but everytime i do i end up heart broken.” Yeah i cried then. Like a baby. And it wasnt fair. Its unfair to cry because just imagine her pain. Its selfish. I’d trade places with my grandma. So i didn't have to go through this I’d trade places even though lately heaven has been something i questioned. Id trade places not knowing where I'd be after this so i knew shed be here and okay. I'd trade places even though it scares me. Im mad that a woman who dedicated her life to taking care of old people, who scrapped by in life because she paid everyones bills for them, a woman who just finally bought her house, a nurse, a woman who'd literally give you the shirt off her back was going through this. The irony. The twisted irony. Im just mad. And im scared of what is going to come of me if this doesn't go good. Because i know me. And i remember the feeling i had when my mom went into the mental institution. That no hope, numb, dead feeling. That angry feeling. I know what would come next and im scared. And i am so so mad. So i just keep telling myself together forever against life as we know it.

[rhapsody-in-heaven]

An Open Letter about Racism and the Term Banana

Context

First Incident sometime last month i referred to myself as a banana and was told it was subtly racist. i *thought* i had adequately explained why it was not and why i identified as such. i had also explained that i would never actively call someone else a banana unless they also referred to themselves as such.

Second Incident it happened last night. to her defence, before i start, she was a bit drunk and i also know shes super passionate about this topic. however, i do have to say i think shes too “politically correct” sometimes to the point where she would be offended by how i view myself - but well get to that later. anyways, she was a bit drunk and we somehow came to the topic of xenophobia vs racism and that somehow spiraled into “reverse racism” and how it, in her opinion, doesnt exist, but i didnt agree. i mostly was content with letting the topic go but she really wanted to convince me otherwise. she got frustrated w me enough tho that she said something along the lines of “this is like how u call urself a banana and think its not racist and that its okay, but it is racist and its not okay” to which i yelled back “i talked to my asian american friends about this and they all tell me that you dont understand my experiences”

Open Letter

Part One - Our Conversation About Xenophobia, Racism and “Reverse Racism”

First, I want to say about the whole issue of xenophobia and “reverse racism”, maybe youre right. And certainly you believe so. Maybe white people cant experience racism. And i certainly understood your point about how its only the oppressed class or classes who could experience it. 

But I also believe that they can be oppressed in non-white dominated countries. Maybe you see it as discrimination and not racism. And that’s fine. But I do not claim to know everything that happens in the world, and so I cannot say for 100% certainty that they do not. 

Even if in a societal scale they “cannot” experience racism. Can you then say it doesnt happen on a personal level? If my moms telling me she rather me marry Chinese>Asian>White>Black, to me, that is racism not just “discrimination” or “xenophobia” (which was by ur definition a rejection of anyone whos different) why isnt it just “i rather u marry a chinese guy”? why are there tiers? 

Maybe you have a sound explaination for this. Maybe i still dont fully understand the subtle differences between the term racist, or xenophobic. Again, im more than willing to play with the idea im wrong. But its not something youre going to convince me of in a 15 minute half drunken conversation. 

Side Note: Did you know white europeans used to be enslaved by muslims? these are the stories we never hear about because being a victim at any point in time doesnt fit the narrative of white people always being on top or the narrative of whites being the “evil colonialists”.

Part Two - The Term Banana

I thought you understood me the last time we talked but I guess not because you called me racist last night. I want to preface this by saying at the time I read what articles I could find, written by asian americans about how they either accepted or rejected this term. I also went to ask my asian american friends what they thought as well.

All my friends and I identify with the term banana. There are some, in the articles I read who do reject this term. And i will reiterate that I would never call someone a banana unless they themselves do and it comes up in conversation like “im such a banana.” “lmfao its fine we can be bananas together”. 

I remember you thought it wasnt a term I should use because “i will always be asian” and i cant “make myself white”. I have never wanted to be white. I was a pretty weird kid, and I always knew i was different from others, I was always very aware of the fact that I was Asian and I was always proud of it.  My Experiences from Canada

I know for some of my friends it was a shock learning that they were different from their peers. One example i can give is the comedian Joe Wang tells this story about how his son thinks hes white and was shocked to learn he was actually “yellow”.  But for me, anytime someone asked me where i was from, I would say “China” (at this point i didnt know the difference status Hong Kong held). Now, part of this I attribute to actually being born in Hong Kong and therefore saying i was from “China” was true to me. The other part is that I never really experienced racism. Then again, maybe i did and i was just too dense to realize.  But i never had the thing where kids would go “ewww whats that stuff ur eating”. Certainly i would get weird looks sometimes, but, to me it was just like i like eating broccoli but hate carrots, u think broccoli is gross but u love carrots. I never took it as a racial thing. I even remember i brought mooncakes once for my class to try and almost no one took me up on it but the teacher. The ones who did expressed they really didnt like like w their face. But i didnt feel bad. I remember carrying the box of mooncakes back to the car and telling my mom they didnt wanna try and immediately both of us said “oh well, more for us”.  I will say when I was young, I really wanted to have blond hair and blue eyes, curly hair even. I saw a friend and thought it was so pretty. But even as i imagined myself with blond hair and blue eyes, i still saw myself w asian features not white features. A little later I started watching anime and wanted purple eyes so i can say with certainty it wasnt a me wanting to me white thing. My Experiences in Hong Kong and with My Family in General 

Growing up my parents and my family back in Hong Kong, would always call me a “gwei mui”. From wikipedia, “Gwei [xxx] is a common Cantonese slang term for Westerners. In the absence of modifiers, it refers to white people and has a history of racially deprecatory and pejorative use, although it has been argued that it has since acquired a more neutral connotation. Cantonese speakers frequently use gwailou to refer to Westerners in general use, in a non-derogatory context, although whether this type of usage is offensive (i.e., an ethnic slur) is disputed by both Cantonese and Westerners alike”. Yes, in the past this word was racially charged, but in the present, its just another way to refer to westerners. I don’t really wanna get into it right now because theres a lot more to break down, but just know that its just a common way to refer to foreigners and the term “gwei mui” specifically refers to white girls. 

I grew up like this. And I grew up knowing that it was a very neutral term for people to call westerners and I also grew up being called such. Just as it was a fact that I was a girl, or that my moms name was Elsa, I was a gwei mui. 

Hong Kong is an international city. And there are foreigners everywhere. I remember walking into a store and before I even said anything, the shop assistants would ask “oh, youre from overseas right?” “yeah, how did you know?” “oh i can just tell by the way u carry yourself”. I had a friend tell me that she could tell i grew up overseas from the way i stood waiting in line, have ppl tell me they could tell by my make up or by how i dressed.  My “Thesis” on the Matter

In Hong Kong, and in my family and my extended family I was always the “white girl”. You once said that I couldnt be white no matter what, that i would always be asian. Can you tell my family that? Can you erase the fact that I was heavily influenced by western culture? I will say again, i never wanted to be white. And to be quite honest, when you said that I couldnt be white, and that i would always be asian, I felt angry. Angry that you could even imply I would want to be white, that i would want to be anything other than asian, that you assumed to know how i was feeling. 

But you need to understand, its not about “wanting to be white”, its about “not being asian enough”. You need to understand, that it never came from white communities, it came from my parents and my family back home. 

It was never racially motivated. It was just a fact. I’m currently 25 years old, I’m 5ft5(ish), I weigh about 117lbs, I was born a girl and identiy as such, I’m from Hong Kong, I grew up in Canada and i’m a banana. 

If we were to go back to what u were trying to explain about racism and xenophobia then you could make the argument that “gwei mui” and “banana” had xenophobic roots - but to tell me its racist? because im itching to be white? i thoroughly reject that and i find it offensive.  If we were to take this stance tho, that it had xenophobic roots, and is therefore xenophobic, I would say “yes, maybe. but if im reclaiming it and seeing it as acknowledgement that I am a mesh of two different cultures, who are you to tell me its wrong?” Furthermore, i would make the argument that the n-word most definitely had racial undertones. but black ppl proudly call themselves the n-word. Why cant I call myself a banana without people telling me im being racist.  The final reason on why that statement about how i will always be asian and never white disturbs me to the core is the way that statement lumps all asians together. And maybe you didnt mean it like this or didnt even notice. But my experiences are vastly different from my cousins who grew up in Hong Kong. And yes, by the colour of my skin i will always be asian. But the experiences that make up who I am and my personality are very Canadian, very western based. And to basically overlook that, is to overlook my existence and the existence of Asian Americans.  I know you would never do this, but to basically put all Asians in one category is the same mind that would white supremacists' would tell us to “go back to our country” not acknowledging that most of us were born or at least grew up here. 

Thoughts from My Asian American Friends. Like I said, I talked to this with a lot of my asian american friends. Most of which identified w the term banana and actively call themselves one. Others who don’t, but are not offended when others identify themselves as such.  They reiterated that the term banana was never about “wanting to be white” that it was never an issue of “want”. That it never came from white communities. It came from their families back in asia. That they were “too white” or “not asian enough”. As one friend put it, “i mean in honesty we say it cause we feel like we don't totally belong to our culture, it's not saying it in means to erase our race.” another friend added “ This is true. I’ve seen posts about struggles of other Asian Americans who feel like they’re too Asian to be accepted as an American but too American to be accepted as an Asian lol”. They also said that to deny us of calling ourselves bananas is to invalidate our experiences and our existence as asian americans. That we are not the same as our counterparts who grew up in asia. That we were heavily influenced by western culture. “ Lmao did they just forget that as much as Asian blood runs in you, your whole life has been in CA? For that person to say that to you feels like she’s already making you feel invalidated for being Asian AND Canadian”. Who are others, who are not asian americans, to tell us, asian americans, how we can or cannot identify ourselves. Who are non asian americans to tell us this is racist, to say that we “want” to be white when they dont understand how we feel at all. my one friend said and i quote, “yeah I don’t think calling myself a banana is racist, like dude I’m talking about myself and how I see myself, who tf are you to say anything”.

one friend said it played into the white savior narrative. that we dont know better and that not specifically you, but that in general white ppl are getting angry for us, trying to educate us and inform us because we dont know better.  Another friend agreed that it probably started off as a negative but then ppl accepted it cuz it made sense - similar to how gweilo started off as having negative connotations but is now just neutral. She said, “banana imo is one of those words that started off as something bad but gradually (some) people accepted it and started referring themselves as banana because it makes sense lol”.  Closing Statements

I’m not trying to make you feel bad and i honestly hope i dont. But I remember you telling me it was important to have these conversations so I hope this isnt too  uncomfortable. honestly tho, i dont even know if im ever going to send this to you or if youll read it.

But I really need you to understand where this comes from and where I’m coming from. If you dont agree, I can’t really change that. But to essentially call me racist for how identify myself with the things i struggle with, is 100% not okay. To tell me I’ll always be asian and to imply i shouldnt want to be white is 110% offensive. and to lump asian americans with asians is 100% denying our experiences. to tell me how i can and cannot see myself, is also 100% not your call, its mine. And it really hurt to know after our conversation last time you still thought i was ‘wrong’ that you thought I was being racist instead of truly respecting where it comes from.  At some point you might be able to gradually convince me ‘reverse racism’ doesnt exist. but there is no way in hell, you will convince me that how I or other asian americans see ourselves is the “wrong” way to see ourselves.