#disclaimer: this one felt incredibly personal. i have thought about this scenario before. i am projecting badly.

[sunset-unbound]

Genuinely, I'm taking longer to get over chapter 36 than the other episodes. The Silt Verses has tragedy, it has pain and horrible things, but at least we have catharsis.

In the end of S1, we thought it was over, and though Carpenter's presumed-death wasn't in her great moment of screaming against her former god, we still had a sense of finality. Of work being done.

Even smaller characters, like Dennis and Sister Thurrocks had strong, lasting impact in shaping the narrative and their deaths came with a punch.

But then we get to chapter 36 and we get softness. We have two people who grasp desperately for little hopes while trying to stay on the fence because they know that good things don't last.

Is there anything crueler than a god of hope?

Everything is cut short for them, before anything impactful and true change happens. They're left at the edge of happiness and then die with a whimper. There's no finality or great catharsis, it just feels unfair.

You could say the ending is ambiguous, but if you're Sebastian you know you lost. And you'll spend every day doubting this miracle, waiting for the catch, for the other shoe to fall. You won't be able to hear Dev's soft reassurances that it's okay and believe him. Any prospect of anything getting better is soured by your cynicism.

This is just what life already was for Seb. He just has even more reason to believe he is right.

[shannygoatgruff]

00:00:13

Genre: Social responsibility

Pairing: Alex Høgh Andersen/OC

Warning: Language, racial slur, prejudice, mention of the YouTube video

Rating: M+18

Header by: @flowers-in-your-hayr​

For: @xbellaxcarolinax​ - thanks for lending me an ear and encouraging me to continue writing this story

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction based on something I saw that evoked a feeling in me. I don’t know Alex or that guy in the video. I don’t own the rights to use him or anything else in my story. I’m just going off something out there on the internet that I wish wasn’t ever there for me to have to write a story about in the first place.

A/N:  So, I don’t know if this is the right time to post this story or not, but it’s been weighing heavily on my heart for some time now. During one of my many Alex rabbit hole stalking internet searches, I came across this YouTube video of him from a few YEARS ago that made me feel a certain kind of way.  Admittedly, I went through a ton of different emotions.  I made a bunch of excuses for him.  I tried to justify him being drunk, young, being from a different country...not understanding his actions.  As a black woman, I was saddened, and a little heartbroken, but I truly don’t think there was any malice behind it.  I think it was just poor judgment on his part. But, in the end, I came up with, he’s a grown man and as a public figure he needs to be more responsible.  

I am in no way trying to sway anyone’s opinion of him, turn you against him, make you seek the video out or anything else.  I just needed to speak MY truth and get my feelings out about the situation. I’ve been the black girl in too many interracial relationships and friendships with people that just don’t get it. I am in no way trying to offend anyone - these are just my feelings.  I just needed an avenue to speak out.  

Anyway, it didn’t turn out exactly how I wanted it, mainly because I was in my feelings, but I think it’s close enough.      

I’m still an Alex fan and he could get it, at ANY moment...just say the words, Boo!  😍

I invite your comments, thoughts, and feelings...if you just wanna talk, feel free to hit me up.  I’m always open to a good discussion.

With that, 

Be easy!

Thirteen seconds…Nia Howard could do a lot in 13 seconds.  For almost 10 minutes, she had been timing herself to see exactly what types of tasks she could perform in that amount of time.  

In 13 seconds Nia could lace her brand new blue and white checked Chuck Taylor Converse tennis shoe.  She was careful to lace the shoe so the strings were only threaded on the outside of the eye-loops, creating one thick solid line across the bridge, hiding the string feeding into the next eye-loop inside the shoe, just like she liked them. This was a trick she learned in Mrs. Hamilton’s 7th grade Math class, and she had been lacing her shoes that way ever since. 

13 seconds was all it took for her to guzzle 10 ounces of the Dasani water bottle sitting on her desk. She probably could have slammed more of the water down her throat, but she wasn’t that thirsty to begin with. Had she been parched, or had it been something that she wanted to drink, she was sure she could have gotten more than 10 ounces down in that amount of time. 

Nia also discovered that she could refill the liquid nicotine and change the filter in her vape, as long as everything was laid out in front of her, in 13 seconds. She was also able to screw the tank back together, but not put the tank back on the battery base before the timer went off.  That part still took her an additional 3 seconds.  Hmm. 

In 13 seconds, she was able to remove the back of the picture frame, take out the photo, and run her thumb over the glossy paper.  It took less than that amount of time for all of the emotions of the day to come flooding back to her as she stared at their first family photo. 

It had snowed at least a foot that day.  But there they were, outside sitting in all of that powder, freezing. Nia, her boyfriend, Alex, and their then 8-week-old Siberian husky, Vlad.  He thought it would be artistic.  She thought it would be cold.  Vlad thought it was fun, running around in snow deeper than he was tall.  But they were still smiling; they were happy.  They were in love.  

Alex was wearing his favorite navy blue The North Face snowsuit, that he had zipped up to his chin. You could only see the side of his pale face, with his cold red cheek, plump pink lips, and those dark lashes covering his incredible blue eyes.  The rest of him was so bundled up, he looked like the abominable snowman.  He loved the cold and the snow.  Growing up here, these snowy days in Denmark were nothing to him.  Nia, however, wasn’t quite as used to it.  It snowed on the East Coast of the US, but not like it did in Denmark.  Her pink and white snowsuit was more for fashion than warmth.  Sitting in the snow in between Alex’s legs, she was freezing and couldn’t wait for them to finish taking pictures.  

However, his arms were warm around her, and though his lips were cold against the side of her face, she could feel his warm breath tickle her ear as he laughed and told her how much he loved her.  She had leaned against his chest and noted how well her pink and white outfit matched his blue one.  Only her dark brown skin made a contrast against the snow and Alex’s complexion, but she still looked as if she belonged.  

She sat with her feet flat on the ground, knees drawn toward her chest bringing their brown and white puppy, the perfect mix between their two tones, closer to the two of them.  While her head leaned into Alex’s kiss, her eyes concentrated on little Vlad in her lap. She had him turned so the camera could capture his one blue eye and one brown eye, while she gently caressed their fur baby, drawing him in for a kiss on his soft, furry head.  

Could they be any cuter?  They were the perfect family.  They were a good looking couple with a good looking dog.  

Thinking about the day that photo was taken quickly made her mind drift back to the first time Alex told her he loved her. She could vividly remember how he grabbed her face and leaned in for that kiss.  The way he pressed his lips to hers, and how it set off every nerve in her body.  She remembered the way her heart fluttered and how she thought she was going to float right out of her skin. But when he pulled away and looked at her with those blue eyes, he grounded her and brought her right back to the spot where he was. When his eyes shifted between hers, desperately searching for some hint that she felt the same, she knew from that moment that he was the one for her.  That entire encounter, the weightlessness, grounding, feeling his eyes look through her and hearing his heart speak her name, couldn’t have taken more than 13 seconds. She was sure it happened all at the same time.

With everything she timed, 13 seconds seemed like it passed in the blink of an eye.  It was manageable if she had a task to complete, but by no means was it a significant amount of time.  So why did it feel like an eternity, each time she watched that damn video clip?  The more she watched it, the longer it became.  That damn 13-second video clip brought out of her a new set of emotions each time she viewed it.

At first, it was shocking.  She couldn’t register anything she saw because she was too surprised at what she saw. The only thing she could process was the feeling of, Huh? 

So, she watched it again, and this time she did so with a goofy smirk on her face. The smirk was the smirk of embarrassment. Embarrassment for her, for him, for them... for not knowing how to feel.  

She had to sit with it for a few minutes before she could watch it a third time. Instead of just jumping right into again, she decided to go back to the original email and reread the message.  She had been so put off by the video that she forgot what it was that she was being asked to do about it.

When she clicked back on the email from her office and skimmed the contents she could only shake her head. Did they actually expect her to handle this?   Really?  She was a publicist.  His publicist, but come on.  This was asking a bit much, no?  There were 14 other people in that damn firm that could have handled this, even if Alex was her client.  He was still a client of the fucking firm. What was she supposed to do?

Without thinking, she put her thumb to her mouth and started biting the cuticle around her new French manicure.  She had been doing so well with that, too. She only bit or picked at the cuticles on her nails when she was nervous or angry – that’s why she made sure to keep her nail appointments every two weeks. She didn’t want to have ugly cuticles on freshly designed nails.  Now she just wasted 264 DKK.

By the third time she watched the video, she went numb.  She couldn’t tell what she felt, all she knew was her mind wouldn’t let her feel anything.  A million different thoughts and emotions swirled around her, but none of them actually hit her, yet. The best way she could explain it was akin to having an out of body experience.  It felt like the glass desk she sitting at was getting further away from her while her laptop screen continued to get smaller.  She started to see the room she sat in as a person watching this scenario from somewhere else, and as long as she wasn’t directly connected to it, she could continue to disassociate with it. Instead, she could only sit there, with her mouth open, staring blankly at this distant laptop screen, unable to process what the fuck she just saw.  

There were no words. No thoughts.  There was nothing.  Only the feeling of adrenaline coursing through her veins and the sound of her heart breaking in a million pieces, as 13 seconds altered the course of her world.  

Ten minutes had to have passed before Nia clicked the replay button on the YouTube video to watch the clip for the fourth time.  She was in a better place now.  She had gotten up, got a drink of water. Practiced a bunch of things she could do in 13 seconds.  She had refocused.  She could watch it now and deal with it with a clear head. She wasn’t sure how many times she had watched it before – it hadn’t registered. She was still in shock from that initial viewing. But, she needed to watch it again because she had to dissect it.  

Placing her chin in her hand, she didn’t give a fuck if she was transferring her Mahogany Shape Tape foundation and Cocoa Bean Black Radiance pressed powder on her palm.  Fuck the papers that were going to be stained from the makeup transfer.  That was a gripe for another day - black women that wore makeup always had issues with the transfer.  It was the plight of the beauty revolution.  She’d fight that battle another day.  Right now, there more important things to deal with. 

Where the hell were her earphones?  She needed to have the audio go directly into her ears.  There was no time to have the sound filter throughout the loft’s office and possibly get distorted. She needed every word to go directly from the computer, in her ear, and into her brain for immediate translation. Maybe she missed something. Maybe she misinterpreted it. Yea…that was it.  This was on her. It had to be, right?

Plugging in her Beats headphones, she placed them on her ears and turned up the volume on her laptop.  She took in a deep shaky breath and hit the replay button for the fourth time. 

Nope, she hadn’t imagined it.  It was still the same.  He was still having fun, hanging out with those same stupid fucking people.  He was still talking in that same drunken tone.  He still thought everything was so fucking funny and laughed at every fucking thing.  

Why did he do that laugh?  It was laugh he used when he was really tickled.  The one that he accompanied by clapping his hands because he was genuinely amused. It was that laugh that she loved the most.  It was that laugh that made her laugh too, usually.  It was that laugh that brought tears to her eyes.  

What the fuck was he thinking? When was he going to learn? There were so many of these kinds of questions she wanted to ask, but did it matter? Did he ever really have to answer them?  It was always going to be different for him for so many reasons. The question was, did she want to stick it out and deal with it?  

This wasn’t the first time he had done something so irresponsible, so insensitive. She knew it wouldn’t be his last.  The problem was, he never seemed to understand why it was a problem.  Quite frankly, she tired of trying to be his teacher.

Just as she sat the headphones back on the desk, she heard the key in the front door lock.  She didn’t want to deal with him right now. She needed more time to digest everything before she talked to him, otherwise, this wasn’t going to be a productive conversation. 

Nia was not the type of person that liked to argue, let alone, have a conversation when she was angry.  Her words were always carefully weighed, and she very rarely said anything out of anger. Hurting someone’s feelings, being misunderstood, and saying something that she would later regret were things that she tried to avoid.  It wasn’t that she was non-confrontational, she was just reserved, that way.  She didn’t grow up in a house where people yelled or used words to hurt each other.  She didn’t believe in doing that, and she wasn’t going to bring that into her relationship, no matter how passionate Alex could get about a situation.  But the way she was feeling right now, all bets were off.  

“Hallo, Vlad.  Have you been a good boy?” She heard his voice from the hallway rise an entire octave as he addressed their 10-month-old Siberian husky.  She could tell by the way Vlad whined and his paws scratched against the hardwood floors that he was jumping on up Alex.  All of that money they were spending on dog training and Alex was still letting Vlad jump on him. Nia shook her head in irritation.  “I missed you, too, boy.  Where’s Mama, huh?” 

Nia remained frozen to the spot.  She did manage to reach for her vape, on her desk, and noticed how the muscles in her neck and shoulders shook with tension.  Taking a few deep breaths, she tried to unclench her jaw.  She just needed a few more minutes to herself.  If he could just go upstairs, or in another room and leave her alone, she would be able to talk to him about this later. But, knowing him, that wouldn’t happen. 

He would keep pushing and pushing until he found out what was wrong with her and before she knew it they would be in a fight.  A fight that she would be actively participating in.  

“Babe?” He called out, making his way across their loft.  His voice getting closer to her office door. “Hey, babe,” he awkwardly raised his hand in greeting, to accompany his words, followed by his thousand-watt smile. “I got us cheesecake from a new bakery.  Casper speaks highly of them.”

Nia looked at her boyfriend and she could feel the hot sting of tears forming at the back of her eyes. Immediately, she dropped her gaze, not wanting to address him or the situation at the moment.  She managed to nod slowly as she continued to work her now jagged cuticle.

To the rest of the world, Alex Høgh Andersen was the model, actor, and photographer that walked on water, ate bullets, and shit ice cream.  He was the sexy heartthrob that had over a million Instagram followers.  The guy that couldn’t post a picture of taking out the trash without it being sent over 5 continents and 35 countries in a matter of minutes.  He had over 2,000 fan sites, and countless fan fictions written about him…fans adored him the world over and he was only 25. He was fucking perfect.  

To Nia, he was just her Alex.  Her clumsy, silly boyfriend, who never put his clothes in the hamper and always left the toilet seat up.  He was the guy that loved to cook but never cleaned the dishes.  He was the one that was always singing or beat-boxing or banging on something trying to make music.  He was always tried to make people laugh.  He was loud, goofy, and drank too much. He smelled awful after a workout and had the messiest bed head when he let his hair grow.  He sometimes smacked when he chewed and always talked with his mouth full.  He was a clown, but he meant well.  He was sweet, and thoughtful and always treated her like she was the most important woman in the world.  

Nia never had one reason not to trust him...until now.

“Baby,” he took in the expression on her face and rounded the glass desk to where she was sitting.  Kneeling in front of her seat, he turned her swivel chair to face him and took her hands in his, “Baby, what’s wrong?”

She raised her eyes wide and looked at a place on the bookshelf, right over his left ear. Refusing to look into those beautiful blue eyes of his and lose her train of thought.  She felt the sweat start at her top lip, something that always happened right before she was about to cry, but she fought the urge.  

“Alex,” she tried to keep her voice steady, but she was pumped full of adrenaline and emotion so it shook involuntarily, “what the fuck?” She pulled her hand from him and turned her laptop toward him.  Hitting the play button on the YouTube video again, she played the 13-second clip for him.  

Alex watched himself, drunk as hell, outside of a night club in Ireland with friends.  He asked his friend to do part of a skit from one of his favorite comedians.  He knew exactly what was on this clip.  He’d seen it, and still thought it was funny. “What’s wrong?”

Nia didn’t say anything, she just let the clip play.  Alex’s friend, Danny, this clout chasing, promoter fuck stood in the shot with him.  Out of Alex’s mouth came the line from Kevin Hart’s Seriously Funny Comedy routine, “Go night, night, nigga?”

He had said it low as if he was talking to Danny, asking him to perform the line from the stand-up.  So what does the little hanger on do?  Danny, who is black, does a really bad, really loud Kevin Hart impression for Alex and the camera, “Go night, night, Nigga!”  

Alex then comes back in the scene and repeats it and they all laugh because it’s so damn funny.  Alex disappears from the screen because he’s laughing so hard, but Danny is still there, shit-talking about having a big dick.  When Alex returns, the two of them end the video with a rousing chorus of “Alright, alright, alright…”  

She didn’t say anything to him, she just looked.  She searched his face for some sort of understanding, some kind of recognition. Something.  But when he turned back to face her and all she saw was confusion she felt her shoulders drop and the first fat tear roll down her face. “Wow.”

“Honey,” he lifted a brow, not quite sure what his crime was.  He knew she didn’t like Danny, but he hadn’t even seen him since he was in Ireland last.  It had to have been a few months. “This was months ago,” he reassured her, with his Danish accent punctuating his English words, “I know you think I drink too much and you don’t like to see me drunk.  It’s no good when it goes viral.  But, we were just fooling around.  It’s nothing to cry about.”  He cupped her cheek in his hand, hand brushed away her tear with his thumb.  His blue eyes moved swiftly between her brown orbs.  “Where did you even find this?”

“Your fucking manager sent it to me, Alex.  They want me to fix this shit.  I’m supposed to make all of this go away.  Me...your fucking black girlfriend - I have to make this racist bullshit you pulled go away.”  She should smack him.  She should.  It would be justified, right? “How in the fuck am I supposed to do that when you think being drunk was the fucking problem with this video?”    

“I’m not a racist,” he said with genuine shock, “I don’t understand.”

“Of course you don’t. You never do.” She got up from her chair, suddenly needing to distance herself from him.  “Why do I always have to be the one to educate you?  You are a grown man.  I shouldn’t have to explain this shit!  You DON’T get to say that word, Alex.  EVER.” She pointed a well-manicured finger in his direction, “It’s hurtful.  It’s hateful.  It’s ignorant.  And coming from YOU, it’s fucking devastating.” 

He was confused. What was she so upset about?  What exactly had he done wrong?  Turning around in his place, he slowly stood up and leaned against the desk.  Legs outstretched, arms folded across his chest in a defensive position he could tell that his girlfriend of three years was upset. Not just the regular run of the mill upset, either.  Something he had done had really bothered her.  

“Nia,” he breathed her name with a smirk on his face, “I think you’re making way bigger a deal of this than it is.  Danny was there, he didn’t care.  If I had said something bad, he would have told me.”  He pleaded with his face for her to trust him on this, it was all a misunderstanding.  “We were just joking. Besides, I didn’t say the bad word – the one with the other ending.  I changed it. We were just doing the part from the Kevin Hart comedy.” 

“Alex,” she straightened her posture and spoke very clearly so that he could understand her.  There was something in the way that he was dismissing what she had said to him that was really rubbing her the wrong fucking way, “You are not Kevin Hart.”  She did not crack a smile when he did.  She kept her face stoic and refused to drop his gaze.  “You are not black.  YOU don’t get to use that word, or any variation, thereof.”

Rolling his eyes, Alex relaxed his posture and lifted his face toward the ceiling. Is this what he came home for?  He could have still been hanging out with his friends for all this.  At least they wanted to have fun tonight.  It was a Friday for crying out loud, was this how they were going to start their weekend?  It was the first one in months that neither of them had to work.  They had been planning this weekend for forever, it seemed. They were supposed to be Netflix & chilling, drinking wine, having breakfast in bed…nowhere in their itinerary were they supposed to be fighting over a stupid joke.  

Alex’s hand covered most of his face, as he rubbed his eyes and tried to gather his thoughts. He didn’t want to argue.  He wanted to change out of his hoodie and jeans, and get into some comfortable sweats.  He wanted to feed Vlad and cook dinner with her.  He wanted to eat in front of the TV while they caught up on this season of How to Get Away with Murder, which they promised each other not to watch until they were together.  “Jesus, Nia, why do you always blow things out of proportion?”

“Why do I.. I’m sorry?  Do I always blow things out of proportion?  Really?” She looked around the room as if he were talking to someone else, “Are you fucking shitting me, right now? Blowing shit out of proportion?  Why do you always have to be such an insensitive prick?”  She watched as he threw up his hands and walked out of the room mumbling under his breath.  “Yeah, say that shit in English, Alex, since you have such a grasp of the fucking language.” 

God, she was doing it.  She was doing everything that she never wanted to do when she argued.  She was speaking out of anger.  She losing the point.  She didn’t have one anymore, she was just mad. “Really…I don’t know who the fuck you think you playing with, but I am not the one.”  

Taking off his jacket and throwing it on the couch, Alex turned around to face his girlfriend.  He paid particular attention to the way her chest rose and fell when she was heated like this. He had always thought she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, but now her anger didn’t match her beauty. “I don’t know what your problem is, Nia, or what you think I did, but I told you, it was a joke.  All of this, it’s not fair to take it out on me.  You owe me an apology for starting on me for no reason when I just walked in the house.”  

He flopped down on the couch and leaned back, pinching the bridge of his nose.  He could feel a headache beginning right between his eyes and he knew it was from tension. 

“What part of this don’t you understand?  You offended me. You offended black and brown people all over the fucking world, thanks to YouTube.  I don’t have to apologize for shit.  You and your little fucking troll friend need to be apologizing!” She started walking around in a circle, she felt just that crazy at the moment. 

Nia looked over at the corner to Vlad.  His blue eye and brown eye lowered to the floor in sadness, as his parent argued. Her heart broke for their baby, but it couldn’t be helped. “Obviously your manager thinks this is a big fucking deal if they sent this shit to be fixed.  Alex, you can’t go around offending people.  You are in the public eye, whether you want to be or not. You have fans that are from every walk of life - do you know how many of them you just insulted? You need to be more responsible for your actions and the shit that comes out of your mouth.”  

“Nia, I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.  I hear that word a hundred times a day. It’s not a problem.  It’s in every song. It’s on American TV…Danny and your brother-in-law call me that all the time.  I’m not a racist.  I’m in love with a black woman.”  He found himself raising his voice because no matter what he was saying, she didn’t seem like she was understanding, “One time,” he held his finger up to emphasize his point, “I do a part from a comedy that I like, with my black friend, and you lose your damn mind.”  

“What the fuck, yo?” Was she going crazy? She tried to inhale clean air, and exhale the poison before she spoke, however, it wasn’t helping.  All she could do was rub her temples. “Danish, American...it doesn’t fucking matter does it?”

“What doesn’t?”   

“Your privilege?” She rubbed her temples slowly and tried to crack her neck. “I’m gonna say this real slow so you can translate it into whatever the fuck language you need to understand it.  I don’t care how much trap music you listen to. You don’t get to say that word. I don’t care if you know the words to every Kendrick Lamar song.  You don’t get to say that word.  I don’t care how many black friends you have. You don’t say that word.  I don’t care what my brother-in-law calls you, or me, or the man in the moon.  You don’t say that word.”  

She got closer to the couch and bend down so that he could hear her.  Barely opening her teeth to speak, she made her point crystal clear, “And I certainly don’t care if you are fucking me or a 100 other black girls, it doesn’t make you black.  You still don’t get to say that word!”

“Oh my God, Nia! It’s a fucking word.”

Was she talking to herself?  Was he that clueless?  Where there no words in Danish that meant anything like it?  They had racism all over the world, surely there was a word in his language that used to oppress another culture to the effect that that word had been used to tear down black people, but black Americans especially.  Nia didn’t know what it meant to other black people, she could only tell him what it meant to her.  

“Do you know what’s like to have no identity, Alex?  Do you know what it’s like to still be referred to as the term they used when they listed you in catalogs to be bought and sold like an animal?  It was no different than saying the word ‘cow’ – it was a word to describe cattle. That’s what an entire country thought of people that look like me.  For no other reason than the color of my skin.”  She couldn’t stop the tears from pooling in her eyes.  She was so beyond mad that her voice was eerily quiet.  “Those people didn’t do anything to deserve it.  They were just born next to the equator.” She shrugged her shoulders in defeat.

“That word stripped men of their role in the family and made some impotent and others were turned into bucks that were only good for breeding…it broke them. It made women broodmares, whose job was to have babies to keep plantations going.  Families were sold apart no different than how Vlad was taken from his mother because he’s a dog.” She pointed to their puppy hoping that he would understand, “They thought it was okay to do that to my ancestors because of that word. Alex, I don’t care how much you hear that word. When you say it, that’s what it feels like to me. That I don’t exist.  That Nia doesn’t exist. That I’m no different than Vlad. But, here’s the rub - in all the time we’ve had him I have never once heard you refer to him as a dog.  But now you used the word nigga, and you think it’s funny.  So, I have to wonder now, how do you describe me?”

He was dumbstruck. 

He didn’t mean any of that when he said it.  It was a joke.  It was an homage to Kevin Hart.  It was fucking funny.  He understood that she was hurt, but he didn’t quite get why she was hurting. “I see that this hurt you. I’m sorry about that.  It was not my intention.”  He reached out to touch her and retrieved his hand when she pulled away, “If it was wrong, why didn’t Danny correct me?”

“That little fucker?” God, she hated him.  “Because he set your ass up and you’re too fucking stupid to know it.”  She didn’t mean that.  She didn’t want to hurt him just because he had hurt her.  But she was tired of telling him the same thing over and over again. 

“How many times do I have to tell you that little bastard is not your friend?  Do you remember how we met?  The drunken video he posted of you doing the Haka dance that ended up all over the internet? Do you remember how I had to spin that shit to save your career?”  She rolled her eyes and stood up from the couch. “Whenever you pop a bottle, that little clout chaser is always right there with a fucking camera.”  

“He’s not like that, he’s my friend.”

“He set your ass up! It’s a game, Alex!  Black guys play it all the time.  See if you can make your white friend say the word. Only, I’m surprised he didn’t punch you in the mouth afterward.  Cause that’s what they’d’ve done in the States.  But maybe things worked differently in Ireland.”  

“Whatever,” Letting out a frustrated sigh, Alex resigned.  

“Right. Whatever.” Walking back into her office, she slammed the lid closed on her laptop before throwing it and a few files into her work bag. “Un-fuckin-believable.”  She left out of the office and sat her bag on the floor by the door before she walked across the hardwood floors towards the stairs. “Move, Vlad,” she said lovingly rubbing her big four-legged baby on the head.  

Vlad made no intention of moving as if he was purposely trying to stop her from ascending the stairs.  Instead, the dog looked at her, then back at Alex, before turning his gaze back at her. “Vladimir, honey, I need you to move.” She watched as her 50-pound defiant child laid on the bottom step and put his brown and white head on his paws. “Fine,” she said, skipping a step to climb over him and made her way up the rest of the stairs, rolling her eyes when the dog followed behind her.

Alex followed behind them and stood in the doorway of their bedroom watching as grabbed a handful of items; a t-shirt, toothbrush, and hair scarf. This entire argument had been blown way out of proportion. Now she was leaving?  “Baby, where you going?”

“Away from you.”

Tags:   @oddsnendsfanfics​​  @a-mess-of-fandoms​​​ @waiting4inspiration​ @simsadventures​​ @chipster-21​​  @tgrrose​​  @alicedopey​​   @thelastemzy​​​  @naaladareia​​ @alexa4040​​ @absolutelynotanidiot​​ @pokeasleepingsmaug​​ @blackcoffeeandgreenteaforme​​ @skadithegoddess​​   @geekandbooknerd​​​ @dreamlesswonder86​​ @inforapound​ @youbloodymadgenius​​ @cruelfvckingsummer​​ @mummybear​ @flowers-in-your-hayr​​ @honestsycrets​ @jzr201​ @xbellaxcarolinax​ @ivarthebloodyking​

[malwarewolf404]

[[disclaimer: I will be using the words biomale and biofemale in this post several times in an attempt to avoid confusion as to the point I’m trying to make. I do not intend to upset or alienate anyone who is intersex or does not otherwise conform to binary physical sex in any way. Thank you.]]

Let’s put together a little thought experiment. You take 100 sexually mature biomales and 100 sexually mature biofemales, both with no knowledge of society beyond this social group, and drop them on an uninhabited tropical island. They have all the resources, food and water, and even materials to make clothing and textiles not far behind from what we have in modern day, perhaps even unique ones to the culture they will eventually create.

Terfs and other denominations of trans-denialists would have you believe some very strict rules would be set up immediately. The biomales would hunt or gather, build, and perhaps begin to create the rituals or beliefs that might one day become a religion, and eventually a societal culture. The biofemales might be relegated to the role of caring for the society’s homes but perhaps not in the way one might expect (when trying to view this thought experiment through the lense of someone who has some particularly backwards ideas about womanhood being equated to the ownership of a uterus that is.) Perhaps terfs would have some more progressive ideas regarding the role of the biofemales, and sure, a matriachal society in which biofemales are responsible for the creation of societal culture isn’t at all outside the realm of possibility by any regards. In the spirit of trying to frame this argument as something a particularly progressive Terf might come up with, let’s say this is the case. Biofemales are the owners of family names and all social status, and biomales are relegated to the duties of cleaning, maintaining, and providing for the settlement.

Now before I actually make my argument, I will say I’m no terf at all. I am not a biofemale person who believes transwomen are rapists invading female-exclusive spaces like wlw. I can only imagine what a terf would come up with when presented with the thought experiment, and because I cannot be fucking bothered to interact with a terf on the issues of gender and biological sex (oh god could you fucking imagine.) That said, I believe I understand the perspective and beliefs of a person with that sort of mindset enough to construct this imaginary facsimile of the thought experiment from a terf’s perspective. Or, maybe I’m dead wrong, in which case I’m sure they’ll tell me. Just gonna quickly address them here:

Hello eager, anticipatory terfs! I’m sure you all have been waiting with bated breath for a post like the first bit of this one to come along so that you can reply in all sorts of flowery ad hominem language, saying things like “I hope you die in a fire you dickless pig-fucker!” Or, even better “Of course this pitiful excuse for a MALE would just LOVE to come up with his own approximation of what we, FEMALES, must be thinking!” I can assure you right now though, I’m not going to reply to any comments like that. I know that’s probably a real turn off for you, probably nixed any motivation to even keep reading this post, I understand. That said, this first part of the argument doesn’t matter, I only included it so that I might have some sort of control to weigh against my own imagination of the thought experiment. Additionally, I reached out to my three sisters about the ideas that a terf truscum person might have about the thought experiment. Here are their responses.

Buddy it’s 4 in the morning in California I can’t fucking read a three page paper this early.

What the fuck? Why would I want to put myself in the headspace of a trans-exclusionist? Why are you even asking me this? What is this for? What the fuck bro.

What’s a terf

Not as enlightening as I had hoped sadly. Anyways, I want to emplore you, please continue to read. I have a lot to say about this imaginary society and what I believe their ideas about gender conformity says about us. I think you might actually see some things in a different light than our incredibly polarized and entrenched societal beliefs would have you observe the issue. If that sounds like something that interests you, please read on.

So, this society. 100 biomales and 100 biofemales. And what do I believe it would look like? Well, I’ll tell you, but first I want to touch on a separate aspect than those I covered in my facsimile of a “terf” island society, and that’s sexuality. The reason I didn’t bring it up at all is because the fact is, many terfs are gay or bisexual women. They are real people with their own feelings and damage and ideas about what it means to be wlw. While I may have momentarily felt only slightly uncomfortable creating the idea of a “terf” island society and talking about its concepts of gender identity and social expectations placed on our imaginary island refugees completely in a vaccuum with no real input from actual women, being a wlw is not an issue I can even begin to comprehend, much less create my own ideas of what an idealized island society would look like to a wlw. It was a bridge too far, and I will not speak over real women with real opinions about what that is like. In fact, if you do identify as a woman (trans or not,) please feel free to share your own input on how you feel my facsimile “terf” scenario might be improved/ammended.

With all that said, let me say that I am now choosing to bring sexuality to the court because I am a gay man/nb person, and can speak to my own experiences and the experiences of others I know about sexuality. Additionally, from a terf’s perspective, the gender identity issue is one irreversibly entwined with sexuality.

So, a society with 100 biomales and 100 biofemales. What would it look like to me? Well, firstly, I don’t think the society would be so divided by gender as the imaginary terfs (or for that matter, most traditional people cough cough) would have you believe. Anyone who’s been to a public highschool knows that BOTH males and females are athletic. Both sexes are creative. Both sexes are capable of being responsible and loving parents. The problem we encouter with trying to frame everything into “men do this women do that” categories is that that is what our traditions and society have programmed us into believing is the norm. This society has none of that programming. Because of this, I do not believe this society would devolve into such a simplistic and arbitrary culture as “you have a penis so you go hunt and gather.” Instead, why not imagine a society where people’s individual talents and skills take precedence over their sex in regards to what role they are able to fulfill in this society? Perhaps you are a biomale, yet you have a very nurturing and caring instinct. Why not serve as a midwife and care for the village’s infants? Perhaps you are a biofemale, but are very athletic. Perhaps then, you would best serve the society as a hunter, no? I think you get what I’m getting at, and I don’t think anyone, even terfs, would disagree with me that gendered societal roles are a pretty dated concept that does not line up with what we understand of real people living in situations like this. They are a biproduct of western civilization’s traditions, and are not at all the norm in dozens of non-western societies.

So, if we can agree that there most likely wouldn’t be overarching end all be all gender roles in society, where is the issue exactly? Well, it’s this: some members of our society do not fall into the traditional gender roles associated with their biological sex. So, what about in this society, where there are no meticulously well-rooted gender roles? It stands to reason that without these gender roles, people would be able to do what they wanted, dress how they wanted, love who they wanted, free of prejudice or judgement. Obviously I am GREATLY oversimplifying a very complex issue, but live with me in the bit for a moment. What would you be in a world free from discrimination on the basis of biological sex, gender, or sexuality. There would be no traditions saying “you can’t do this because you’re this.” Who would you become? Who would you have the boldness and the freedom to be? Now, a pre-agricultural society that hasn’t even developed traditions or laws is hardly the most desirable place to imagine oneself living, but just think for a moment. No glass ceiling. No homophobic. No oppression on the basis of sex.

Now, I already have a good idea of what people are going to say about this post. “Tearing down the borders of gender and sexuality would only render our understanding of LGBTQIA ideas completely useless.” “There ARE certain things males are more inclined to do than women, biologically speaking. R*pe seems to come to mind.” “By refusing to give your imagined society any gender roles you have essentially made a moot point about what it means to be trans in our society.” Perhaps more broadly, “this thought experiment is dumb and you should feel bad.”

But here’s the thing. I’m not making this post in hopes of “dunkin’ on terfs” or even really challenging anyone’s opinions on anything. I have absolutely no hope that this dumb, worthless, ~3,000 word thought experiment will do any of that, let alone get any amount of notes. I only wanted to talk about this to put my own mind at ease in imagining a world I, a casual non-binary person, could exist without having to justify or prove myself as non-binary. I could, in my imaginary society, simply be myself. I could look up at stars. I could talk to gods of the wind on stillwater, of the sunlight through the palm fronds, and of the moonlight’s pale glow on the sand. I could do all of these things without constantly being percieved as a man because of the way I presented or behaved. And, I could find a masculine partner to be with, free of judgement.

“But Malwarewolf!” You cry, pleadingly. “What about all the people born as one sex that wish to transition into another sex? They would have no way of doing that in this imaginary society!! As a trans person, I do not experience the same satisfaction you do in this concept!”

This is, perhaps, the biggest hole in my argument. However, just because a person is born as one sex and wishes to transition in a relatively (oh, how do I say this without offending a lot of people,) quaint society doesn’t mean they’re just damned to live in a state of dysphoria or unhappiness with their body. I would argue, they might be able to live happier lives than trans people in our society do, existing as a fully welcomed and accepted member of society, with no oppression or suppression of their very valid desires to exist as they opposite sex. I would further argue that in a society without the proper foreknowledge and tools to perform gender-reassignment surgery, individuals who might identify as “trans” in our society would instead be free to express themselves however they wanted to instead of having to adopt a particular appearance or sex-identifying features to adhere to their non-existent gender roles. This is, very possibly, how the polynesian “third genders” came to be, such as Māhū in Hawaii and Tahiti, Fakaleiti in Tongan peoples, and Fa’afafine in Samoa. Now, these third genders are very important to many polynesian cultures and have very specific spiritual and societal roles in the island’s cultures respectively, the extent of which I am no way qualified to speak about (but would absolutely LOVE if some native Hawaiians could weigh in on!) It should be noted however, that a Māhū person can be born either male or female.

I say all of this to say, gender is a highly complex and winding topic. I could go on waxing poetic about my day-dream life in this idyllic society, but if you’ve made it this far in the post, you’ve probably had enough of that. Thank you so much for reading this far into a fucking hypothetical concept of all things. I will close by saying unironically, I’m gay as fuck, trans rights are human rights, and lastly trans-exclusionists if I see you bullying people in the comments I will suplex you through a plywood board.

I love you all and have a wonderful day.

[tillidontneedfantasy]

‘Future Nostalgia’ - Dua Lipa REVIEW: Changing the game through timeless pop.

Pop music is important. It distracts us, it brings us joy, it makes us dance, it attaches itself to memories forever. This is Dua Lipa’s blueprint for her sophomore release, Future Nostalgia. It’s there in the name; she wants her music to be everlasting, so that it can be branded with one of the fondest descriptors possible: nostalgic. 

Quite an ambitious objective, but not surprising for 2019′s Best New Artist Grammy winner. There is great pressure that comes with such a title, but Dua has proved herself worthy of it on Future Nostalgia. She does not just want to be the best new artist, but one of the best artists, period. “You want a timeless song, I wanna change the game,” is the opening line of the album and title track. Luckily, we all win in this scenario; although the song itself might not be the game changer, there are plenty of tracks on the album that are game changers because they have a timeless feel to them, which is not something many of her contemporaries are doing. 

Future Nostalgia’s only drawback is that there is not much lyrical depth; despite misconception, pop music can explore profundity, especially considering the subject matters of love and heartbreak, which are prominent themes of the album. However, I can accept and respect pop music that operates closer to surface level as well, especially when it’s done as well as it is on Future Nostalgia; I mean, I’m not complaining.

STRONGEST TRACK(S): “Don’t Start Now,” “Pretty Please”

Has there ever been a lead single as strong as “Don’t Start Now”? Co-writers and producers for the track include Ian Kirkpatrick, Emily Warren and Caroline Ailin, all of whom penned her excellent breakout song, “New Rules” (sans Lipa) in 2017. The song is split into three segments- verse, pre-chorus, and chorus- all of which sound distinctly different from the others, yet feel like such a natural equation. The bongos in the chorus and the later addition of a string section over the synths, leading to a full and rich final chorus just throw you for such an exciting loop, it is impossible to not have fun listening to this song. On top of the melodic genius of the song, its straightforward lyrical message is just as empowering as the music itself. “Don’t Start Now” is Dua’s expression of liberation from the pain of a heartbreak, and a warning to the breaker in question not to come crawling back when he sees how much she is thriving, and boy, is she!

Despite the enormous success of both “New Rules” and “Don’t Start Now,” Kirkpatrick and Ailin only work with Dua on one other track of the album, “Pretty Please,” and it should come as a surprise to no one that it is the next strongest song on the record. Penned alongside singer-songwriter phenomenon Julia Michaels and co-produced by Juan Ariza, “Pretty Please,” a track about needing the sweet relief of a lover, is one of the album’s few breathers. And in it, Lipa is asking for a breather herself: “when my mind is running wild, could you help me slow it down?” she asks, and then the song brilliantly does just that when she sings the next line, “put my mind at ease,” before returning to its original speed. There are other great musical tricks sprinkled throughout the song, such as a sound that mimics the feeling of the line “trickle down my spine.” The track continues to build musically but is never too much, it’s always just right. 

WEAKEST TRACK: “Boys Will Be Boys”

She tried with this one. She really did. Look, I love a song with a strong feminist message as much as the next girl, but this one was just a swing and a miss. The first verse of “Boys Will Be Boys” starts off strong, quite accurately depicting the fear women face on a daily basis, the way we have to alter our behavior to keep ourselves safe. But with each verse, it feels less sincere and more contrived, with lyrics such as “in case you needed it mansplained” and “if you’re offended by this song, you’re clearly doing something wrong.” Additionally, it is an odd closer for an album full of fun pop songs; it’s possible it is there as a warning for anyone who might get to the end of the album and think negatively of how she asserts her femininity and sexuality in a way throughout that is universally accepted when men do the same. And while the intended message is indeed important and true, it lacks the necessary delivery.

THE IN-BETWEENS

The delivery on the lust-filled, dance-inducing tracks are much more effective. “Cool,” an incredibly infectious song about losing control around the person you’re into, experiments with Dua’s vocal abilities and range, with pointed squeaks at the end of her words and a gorgeous switch into her lower register at the beginning of the final chorus. “Physical,” the second official single, is an intense and wildly fun song that could work as the soundtrack for a long drive, a night at the bar with friends, or in a workout class. While the album very successful achieves sonic cohesion, it can sometimes get a bit tiresome; “Hallucinate” feels like it was made simply to be played at festivals, and although the lyrical sentiment of “Love Again” is nice enough it could have been a moment for a more subtle musical departure. 

BEST PROSPECTIVE SINGLE: “Levitating”

Never thought I’d be such a fan of a song that uses the term “sugarboo,” yet, here I am. No track on the record quite captures the concept of “future nostalgia” as well as “Levitating” does, with its futuristic sounds and lyrics that I can imagine we will be singing forever (yes, even the “sugarboo” bit!). In every way, it perfectly encapsulates the pure elation that comes with meeting someone and feeling a heaven-made connection. Every element of this song makes it a necessary single choice: it’s extremely catchy, it has a perfect tempo for anyone of any age to dance to it, “yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah!”s, and lyrics in the hook that are perfectly spaced out to remember and chant (”you! moonlight! you’re my! starlight!”). Bruno Mars WISHES he wrote it; it feels like a song for which everyone would get up at a wedding to dance for years and years to come. I, for one, will get up every time, at least.

***

It’s impossible that Dua could have predicted while creating her album that this would be the state of the world at the time of its release. Many artists with new projects have decided to cancel or postpone their releases until further notice due to the COVID-19 pandemic. This is understandable for a myriad of reasons, from the inability to properly promote the work to feeling as if it just might not be the appropriate time. Although it might feel like there is little to dance about right now with the world crumbling around us, Future Nostalgia gives us reason, now and for the future, when we can hopefully look back and remember an album that provided us levity in our darkest hour. So stay indoors, facetime your sugarboo, and thank whatever the hell you pray to for pop music. Grade: 4/5

DISCLAIMER - REVIEWER’S BIAS: I have been a casual fan of Dua since “New Rules” exploded on Tumblr in 2017, but not much more. However, I have a specific fondness for her, as my favorite client of all time was a huge fan of her shortly after, so when I listen to Dua it reminds me of her. I hope she’s loving this album and that it’s bringing her joy and comfort in this uncertain time. I’m a huge proponent for female pop artists and the meticulousness of their craft, and I think Dua has done an excellent job of taking constructive criticism and improving, utilizing her strengths in a way that blur out her weaknesses. The release of “Don’t Start Now” felt like a turning point in her stardom, and this album is the proof. I really would like to see some stronger lyrical work from Dua, as I feel there are little to no moments on the album where I feel impressed or particularly moved by any line, and although I love and support fun and light pop music, I think it’s also very possible to have upbeat pop music with much sharper lyrics. I think she kind of tried but the few times she did they didn’t quite land. If she had a couple of songs stronger on the lyrical front, this would have been a nearly perfect album for me. But for a sophomore effort, this is great. It feels like a nice breath of fresh air in a time that’s filled with anxiety-ridden gasps, and I’m grateful for it. 

[sunyoonandstars]

BTS Scenario 3 || Them seeing your evident self-harm scars (for the first time) || You x Taehyung

So … since this is kind of close to home for me and it helped me deal with some issues of my own, I wrote and published this same scenario for several other members already a while back. You can find them on my Masterlist.

I aim to do the same for all the members, one by one. And here comes the long awaited Taehyung edition. I hope reading it will give you as much strength, hope, and comfort as writing it did me. 😌

Scenario

You are in a serious relationship with them but have somehow managed to hide your self-harm scars up to this point. However, for some reason, they are coincidentally faced with your scars. These are their reactions:

angst, fluff, hurt/comfort

Word Count

1.143

! Disclaimer/trigger warning ! The following text contains mentions of self-abusive / self-harming behavior and scars. Do not read if it may trigger you!

If you are currently struggling and need someone to talk, know that you can always contact me. I have personal experience with mental illness and self-harm. I don’t know what you may be going through, but I know you can make it! Love yourself! 💜

Mental health matters! You matter! And you are truly beautiful!

3.3. Kim Taehyung / V

Taehyung would feel your pain. He would be equally hurt by the fact that you attempted to hide a part of yourself from him as he would be understanding, since he, himself, is familiar with the darkness and can have trouble letting people in and showing his true emotions. Once you would open up to him, however, he would do the same, and the shared moment would only deepen and strengthen your relationship. Besides, that old, artist’s soul of his would be able to see and admire the beauty even in your ‘broken’ parts ...

Four months. That's how long you had been seeing Taehyung already, and, so far, they were the best four months of your life.

Never before did you dare to believe anyone could make you feel so unique, lovable, beautiful, and worthy. Taehyung adored you, and he made sure to remind you of that fact every single day, once at least. All the more guilty did you feel for hiding something from him. Some part of yourself, of your truth, that you feared he would be appalled by.

With every day passing, your guilt kept on growing, eating away at your previous, lightsome happiness until it threatened to smother you, dimming your smiles and turning precious, rare moments spent by Taehyung's side into unbearable ordeals.

And you could tell that it wasn't just you who had changed. There was a transformation apparent in Taehyung, as well, in the way he acted towards you or in general whenever you were near. He became quieter, hesitant whenever he touched you. You caught him watching you when he thought you weren't looking, something much more serious about the look in his eye, some sort of sadness that was more than just that. Longing. Loneliness. And it broke your heart, a little more with every moment you spent together.

Until, one day, you couldn't take it any longer. The truth untold, the words unspoken that needed to be said.

So, at the break of dusk, you lifted your head that had been resting on Taehyung's chest for hours now that had been spent simply lying there in silence on his bed, observing the sunset through the open window. Ypu had to force yourself to look him in the eye as you spoke.

"I'm sorry, Tae. I'm sorry I'm hurting you."

"Y/n. No. You're not -"

"Shush," you cut him off, placing your index finger on his soft lips. "No, Tae. I need to say this. Because I'm truly sorry, so sorry you feel like I don't trust you. Because I do. I want to. And there's something I need to show you."

Before he could raise his voice once more, you detached yourself from Taehyung's comfortably warm body and sat up in his lap, avoiding his gaze while you slowly pulled up the sleeves of your shirt, exposing dozens upon dozens of more or less prominent scars stretching across your otherwise flawless skin. Scars left by razor blades, kitchen knives, scissors or even your own fingernails. Light pink, of crimson color or bleached out by time and sunlight, shimmering white against your already pale skin.

"Y/n - I - What is this?"

Gently, Taehyung took your wrist into one of his slender hands and leaned in to observe the marks more closely, a serious crease forming in between his distinct, dark brows.

"Y/n," he now looked up at you. "Please, explain, love.  What am I looking at here? I mean, I have a pretty good idea. But I want to hear it from you, in your own words. I want you to tell me. Your story. Their stories. Everything."

And when he said that, his voice was bare of judgment, anger or disgust. Taehyung merely sounded curious, genuinely caring, and his glance was overflowing with nothing but affection, reflecting your very own pain.

"And you're not mad?" you inquired, unable to hide your surprise.

"Mad? At you? Not at all," Taehyung shook his head, his long fingers all the while absentmindedly caressing your skin, following the traces all those battles you had fought, struggling with your demons, had left behind on your body, whereas his eyes remained locked with yours, his gaze unwavering. "Disappointed, maybe. That you believed even for a second that there was a need to hide this part of you from me."

"I'm sorry, Tae," you echoed once again, feeling tears collect.

"No, don't apologize. I get it. There were times when I felt like I needed to protect you from my darkness, too. Those days, when I suddenly canceled dates? Or when I was distant and cold?" He paused, and you could tell his eyes, too, were welling up. "I may not have always been perfectly honest with you, either, y/n. I didn't want you to have to deal with that side of me. I see now that I was wrong. We both were. But people make mistakes. They learn and grow. Grow closer. So, there's no reason to apologize again. It's okay, y/n. I understand, I really do. You needed time to trust, time to let me in, and I respect that. I guess we're very similar in that way."

"I guess we are."

Your lips curved by the same sad smile that tugged at the corners of Taehyung's mouth, you exhaled a sigh of heartfelt relief as your fingers somehow found their way into his big, warm hand, naturally intertwining themselves with his.

"And I'm glad we are," Taehyung said after a few minutes of placid silence. "I feel like I can be myself with you, y/n. Unfiltered, now that we disposed of this last obstacle, this unspoken truth we had to share. And, to me, it's like I've already known you all my life, even long before I even knew of your existence if you get at all what I'm trying to say."

Hopeful, Taehyung looked up at you.

"I know, this might sound cheesy and stupid," he scoffed, his words followed by a low chuckle. "But I really believe we might be soulmates, y/n. Like, for real. And, to me, you are the most beautiful person in this entire world. Everything about you is marvelous. These, as well. Each and every one of them."

His movements speaking of the greatest admiration, Taehyung now began trailing the lines of your scars with the tips of his fingers, his touch ever so gentle, before he went on to grasp your forearm with both his hands. One of them he placed by your elbow, the other one encircled your wrist as he led your arm up, towards himself, proceeding to lower his head so his soft hair hid it from your view when he started covering your tender skin with the softest of kisses, the sensation sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.

"I adore you, y/n," Taehyung whispered when he raised his head in between kisses, his lips slowly but surely moving upwards, closing in on the rim of your sleeve. "Every last bit of you. And I don't mind your demons, your past mistakes or the parts of yourself and your life that you'd like to edit out. Because they are what makes you the incredible person you are. The amazing you that I love. So, just let me have you, y/n. All of you. And I will give you all of me. For as long as you will have me."

I hope you liked it and could maybe, hopefully, even take some comfort from it.

Thank you for reading! Take care, have a wonderful day and never forget: You are loved! 💜

Here you can find my Masterlist if you would like to read more of my BTS fiction.

None of the GIFs used are mine. Credit goes to the initial creators. Thank you for your hard work and dedication.

[sushigirlali]

Body Politic (Reylo Fanfic)

Summary: Ben introduces Rey to a new position in and out of the bedroom.  Pairing: Rey x Kylo Ren/Ben Solo [Reylo] [ReyBen] Continuity: Post TLJ Rating: M+ Disclaimer: I do not own Star Wars or anything that relates to Star Wars. 

A/N: This one-shot is dedicated to @kayurka for their sexy Reylo art work, which inspired the *cough* climatic moment in this little fic! I got pretty political in this one, playing off the “leaks” a few weeks back that Kylo is doing a bang-up job as the Supreme Leader, and the Resistance is losing influence in the galaxy. Just another ‘what if?’ scenario I’m throwing out there. Enjoy! 

Master list –> sushigirlali’s Reylo fanfiction 

——————

Body Politic By: sushigirlali

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Rey fidgeted in her seat as Poe droned on and on about the preparations for their upcoming mission. Ever since they had escaped Crait, the Resistance had been bouncing from one outer rim spaceport to the next, searching for recruits and supplies along the way. Now that the New Republic was gone, the rebels needed to secure another funding source in order to survive.

As they were now, regaining influence in the ever-shifting political landscape would be a near impossible feat. Leia had comforted Rey after their last battle, telling her, “We have everything we need,” but Rey was starting to wonder.

With the Hosnian system destroyed, most of the less savory systems in the galaxy seemed to have thrown their lot in with the First Order. Whether because they believed in the organization’s mission or out of fear or both, Rey wasn’t sure. Living as a scavenger on Jakku didn’t include an education on intergalactic politics, after all. But what she did know was that Supreme Leader Kylo Ren was quickly becoming a problem for them.

Despite the way his predecessor had run the First Order, Ben was gaining a reputation for being fair-minded, forward thinking, and even downright benevolent at times. Where the galaxy had seen Snoke as an evil dictator to be opposed at all costs, Ben seemed to be winning the masses over by using the First Order’s considerable resources for good.

Just a few days ago, Ben had personally responded to a distress call from his home planet of Chandrila. Providing a mountain of provisions to offset the potential devastation of a recent agricultural blight, Ben had secured the planet’s future. And in doing so, had gained Chandrila’s loyalty in the galactic conflict, despite the planet’s historically anti-imperialist leanings.

Although Leia had not come right out and said it, Rey knew this development was a huge setback for the Resistance. If the galaxy no longer wanted to be free of the First Order, what need was there for a rebellion?

The Force suddenly sizzled around her, snapping Rey back to the present. Her back stiffened as she felt Ben’s unmistakable presence directly behind her chair.

“Hello, my love.” Ben’s deep voice slid over her like a caress as his hands came to rest on her tense shoulders. 

She was pretty sure he was doing it on purpose at this point, showing up whenever she was stuck in a room full of people and couldn’t react. It was a habit he needed to break, or else she wouldn’t be able to keep their bond a secret for much longer. 

Rey tried not to move as he began kneading her tightly coiled muscles, slipping his daring digits under the loose collar of her top to touch her bare skin. Biting back a moan as he worked out the knots between her neck and shoulder blades, Rey abruptly pushed her chair away from the conference table.

“I’m sorry, but can we continue this later?” Rey interrupted unsteadily. “I’m not feeling well.”

Poe looked up from his datapad in surprise. “Oh, ah, sure, Rey.”

“Everything okay?” Finn asked as she stood.

“Yeah, I just…need to lay down for a while.” Rey said stiffly as Ben trailed behind. She could tell the stupid man was pleased with himself for distracting her so thoroughly, but she did her best to hide her annoyance.

Rey avoided looking at Leia as she passed, afraid that something would show in her eyes, and proceeded straight to her cramped quarters on the lower deck. Besides the officers, she was one of the only people to receive a private room, something she was eternally grateful for right at this moment.

“Do you have to do that every time I’m in an important briefing, surrounded by my friends?!” Rey snapped as she shut and locked the door behind them.

“You’re somewhere new.” Ben said, ignoring her question.

“What can you see?” Rey asked uneasily, momentary diverted.

“Not much.” He acknowledged, looking around. “But this isn’t the same room as before. I can just…tell.”

“Leia bought a new ship to better accommodate—” Rey cut herself off as she realized what she was divulging. “What am I doing? I shouldn’t be telling you anything.”

“Don’t you trust me, my love?” Ben smirked.

“Not as far as I can through you.” Rey deadpanned. “And stop calling me that.”

“Why?” Ben came forward, crowding her against the side of the bed. The double mattress dominated the small space, so there wasn’t much room to maneuver away from him. “I love you, so I think it’s an appropriate nickname.”

“Because I—and you—we’re—stop it, Ben, I’m trying to say something important!” Rey tried as his brawny arms went around her, pulling her flush against his tall frame.

“You can keep talking, but I can’t promise that I’ll hear what you’re saying.” Ben slowly lowered his head, sliding his soft lips against her collarbone.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Rey said weakly as he continued upward to kiss her neck, scrapping his teeth over her pulse lazily.

“That’s what you say always say.” Ben mumbled against her skin.

“Ben, I’m serious.” Rey sighed as he continued his attentions. “I can’t seem to control myself when we’re together like this, and I—”

“Good. Don’t.” He ordered, claiming her trembling lips in a passionate kiss.

Despite her objections, Rey tilted her head back to give him better access, drowning under the ardent pressure of his mouth. It wasn’t fair that he could reduce her to a puddle of mindless desire with just a kiss. Even though she had doubts about his intentions, he was physically devastating to her, destroying her resolve and wreaking havoc on her senses.

The Force bond flared between them as their breathing grew labored, allowing Rey to slip into Ben’s mind. His raw, aching need overpowered every other rational thought, and Rey lost herself in his feelings, in hers, glorying in the beauty of sharing her mind and body with someone who truly loved her. Beyond power, beyond responsibility, all he really wanted was her, which made resisting him all the more difficult.

When she didn’t protest further, Ben lowered her to the bed, his nimble fingers quickly removing her tunic and leggings before unwrapping her arm and chest bands. Naked and breathless, Rey could only gasp as Ben flipped her over onto her stomach.

“Ben?” Rey rose up on her elbows and looked over her shoulder uncertainly.

“Do you want me to stop?” Ben asked as he drew off his gloves and wrestled with the clasp of his belt. “You’ve got about ten seconds to decide.”

Rey lay prone on the cool sheets, mesmerized as he bared his massive chest. His warrior’s body was marked with reminders of battles past, including injuries sustained by her own hand, but she found his imperfect visage incredibly appealing.

“Rey?” Ben said urgently as he reached for his zipper.

She should say no. She should tell him to leave. But she couldn’t.

“I want you, Ben.” Rey admitted softly. “Don’t stop. Please.”

She caught her breath as he slowly undid his pants, the short black boxer briefs underneath barely containing his heavy erection. Shifting restlessly on the bed as he tugged his pants and underwear down his hard thighs, Rey sighed at the sight of him. Ben was so good to look at, all legs and toned muscles, his thick penis rising proudly against his flat stomach, firm and unyielding.

Ben stooped down to remove his boots and kick free of his bottoms, smiling roguishly as he came up behind her on the bed. “On your knees.” He instructed gruffly.

Rey bit her lip in anticipation, the intensity of his smoldering gaze searing her. They had never made love in this position before, and she was all at once nervous and excited for the new experience.

“Like this?” Rey asked, coming up on her hands and knees.

The bed dipped as he positioned his legs between hers, pulling her hips up and pushing her chest down. “Like this.”

Resting on her forearms, Rey inhaled sharply as Ben cupped her bottom.

“I love your ass.” He groaned, petting the twin globes reverently.

Rey felt her face heat as he pushed her cheeks apart and inspected her pink center, his thumbs spreading her wide. Cool air hit her sensitive core as he stared at her, branding her, and Rey couldn’t help but shiver in response.

“Are you just going to look?” Rey inquired, wiggling her hips enticingly.

“Impatient, sweetheart?” Ben chuckled.

“Expectant.” Rey shot back. “You’re the one who interrupted my day, sweetheart.”

Ben leaned down and nipped her backside in retaliation, laughing when she let out a surprised yelp.

“Ben! What do you think you’re—ah! Oh!” Rey gasped as his tongue soothed the small sting before skating across her buttery folds.

He kept the pressure light, stroking back and forth between her legs, tracing the seam of her nether lips gently, creating a slow, maddening rhythm that had her lifting up against him, trying to get as close as possible.

Ben had other ideas, however.

“Hey!” She complained as he swiftly drew away.

“Did I say you could move? Be a good girl, or I won’t give you what you want.” Ben said tauntingly. “Ass up, head down.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Try me.”

Rey tossed him an aggravated look but lowered her upper body back to the bed all the same. “Better?” She asked sarcastically.

“Infinitely.” Ben grunted, looping an arm around her waist as he lowered his head again.

Nudging her legs further apart, Ben pressed his face between her spread cheeks, slanting his mouth across her wet flesh. Rey gripped the sheets as his clever tongue dipped into her honeyed depths, curling deep inside her before darting in and out her channel in arousing strokes.

Unable to control her excitement, she tried to buck against him again, but Ben easily controlled her movements this time, his left arm restraining her hips while his broad shoulders kept her thighs splayed wide. He projected a smug smile into her mind as her frustration and desire boiled over into their bond, piquing her pride.

“You weren’t so smug the other day when you were at my mercy!” Rey panted heatedly, already close to the edge.

Ben shook in amusement at her words, but as Rey opened her mouth to berate him further, he parted her soft curls with his free hand and circled her delicate button. Strumming her clitoris in time with each flick of his tongue, Ben played her body like a fiddle.

“Oh, stars!” Rey gasped, feeling her release build with every passing second. “Ben, I’m so close!”

Her lover licked her faster, swirled his thumb against her sensitive knob harder, easily bringing her to the brink of ecstasy before shoving her over the precipice with one final hard swipe of his tongue. Rey groaned as her orgasm washed over her, his suctioning lips elongating her pleasure as he greedily lapped up her juices.

“See what happens when you behave?” Ben said huskily after a moment.

Floating on a cloud of fulfilment, Rey was only vaguely aware of Ben shifting behind her, lining up his huge erection with her tiny hole.

“Now, it’s my turn.” Ben murmured as he pushed the head of his member into her soaked center, his large hands holding her hips steady.

The angle of his penetration made him feel bigger than usual, if that was even possible, yet somehow they still fit together perfectly. She could feel his passion spiking as he worked his length into her tight sheath, inflaming her own, burning her up. Rey groaned once he was fully seated inside her, stretching her deliciously, his massive frame blanketing hers, caging her in, making her feel small and helpless.

“Do you like this position?” Ben asked knowingly, giving her a moment to get used to him.

“Like you don’t know!” Rey panted, squirming against this hold.

“Mmm…you are remarkably wet today.” Ben lazily moved his hips from side to side. “And tight.” He hissed as her inner muscles clamped down on him.

“Ben, please!” Rey cried, more turned on than she had ever been in her life.

“Are you asking me to move?” He teased, trailing hot kisses up the side of her neck.

“Yes! Ben, I need you!” She was beyond pride now, wanting nothing more than to be one with her mate.

“You do? Ah, you do.” He rumbled, reveling in her surrender.

Rey pressed her forehead into the soft mattress, moaning as he began rolling his hips against her ass, spearing her with his meaty cock.

“Tell me, do you like being dominated? Stuffed full from behind? Unable to move while I take what I want from your wanton body?” Ben baited, nipping and sucking her pulse, marking her neck for all to see.

Unable to form a coherent retort to his scandalous questions, Rey merely whimpered under him.

“Answer me, or I’ll stop.” He threatened, fingers clenching on her hips.

“No!” She cried. “Don’t stop!”

Ben’s hands left her hips, bracing one on the mattress beside her while the other pulled her left arm behind her back, arching her further against his invasion. While she could have easily broken free, the vulnerable position only made her hotter.

“Then answer me! If you don’t like being dominated, then why are you letting the Supreme Leader of the First Order violate you?” Ben demanded in her ear.

“Because I’m yours!” She yielded as he rutted deep inside her, knowing that’s what he wanted to hear.

“Who’s?”

“Ben Solo’s!” Rey cried.

“All mine.” He growled in triumph.

“Oh, Ben!” She wailed as he hit the wall of her cervix.

With her hips finally free, she frantically pushed back against him, impaling herself on his rigid member until they were both flushed and perspiring madly. Ben bit off a curse as he responded in kind, releasing her arm to hunch against her, plowing into her grasping cunt over and over again.

As their passion bordered on violence, Rey muffled her cries of pleasure in the blankets trapped beneath their heaving bodies, weeping as stars exploded behind her eyes and she felt her lover pulsing deep inside her.

“Come with me!” He commanded, lacing his fingers through hers on either side of her head. “Now!”

“BEN!” She screamed as the most intense climax of her life crashed over her.

“Rey! Rey! Rey!” Ben repeated her name like a litany, pumping his seed inside her even as she collapsed under him in exhaustion.

Ben caught himself on his forearms, sparing her his full weight, before carefully disengaging their bodies. Rolling onto his back, he drew her limp body across his lovingly. Rey felt tears prick at her eyes as he cupped her cheek and gently sipped from her lips, his tenderness after such passion forcing Rey to finally accept the indisputable truth: she belonged to Ben Solo, and he belonged to her.

——————

Rey lay across Ben’s wide chest, so satisfied in the aftermath of their lovemaking that she could barely lift her head. If it felt this good to make love with him across the stars, how would it feel to be in his arms in the flesh?

“I wasn’t too rough, was I?” Ben asked seriously, interrupting her thoughts.

Rey met his worried expression, stunned at the question. “Of course not! Ben, you were incredible! I’ve never enjoyed myself so much.”

Pushing her damp hair away from her face, Ben leaned forward to take her mouth in a gentle kiss. “I’m glad. I thought I was going to die, trying to get close enough.”

“I know what you mean.” Rey pressed her soft lips to his scarred cheek, feathering kisses across his handsome face in renewed interest.

“Rey, we can’t.” He said in a tortured tone. “I can feel how sore your body is. I don’t want to hurt you.”

She pulled back ruefully as she felt him harden against her belly. “You’re probably right.”

“It’s okay. We have all the time in the galaxy to be together.” Ben’s muscular arms surrounded her, hugging her close. “For now, however, we need to discuss what our next move is.”

“Our next move?” She echoed.

“Yes.” He affirmed. “I know you must have a lot of questions for me, so ask whatever you’d like.”

Rey pursed her lips, thinking hard. There were so many things she wanted to know, but the briefing he had interrupted only hours ago kept running through her mind.

“Why did you help Chandrila? Is it because you grew up there? Or because of…” Rey trailed off.

“Because of you?” Ben filled in. “Not entirely. I factor you into most of my decisions, but in this case, I only did what I thought was right.”

“Was that the only reason?” She probed.

His mouth kicked up at the corners. “Well, with Chandrila pledged to the First Order, it won’t be long until others see the benefit of being under my protection.” Ben said honestly.

“And then what? What are your plans for the galaxy?” Rey finally voiced the one question she had been burning to ask.

“I want to root out the corruption inherent in the political mechanisms of our forefathers, and build a new system. A true republic with fair elections and a separation of powers to prevent future abuse.” Ben informed her. “In addition, I want to ensure proper education and protection for Force-sensitives.”

Rey propped her arms on his chest and rested her chin on her hands. “And who will lead this new system?”

“I will.”

“As a dictator?” She queried disapprovingly.

Ben shrugged at the loaded term. “For the moment, yes. I don’t trust anyone else to see my vision through.” He said honestly.

“And after you’ve established this new order?” She needed to know.

“I’ll step aside.” Ben pledged.

“What about my friends?” Rey bit her lip.

“I won’t sanction any more attacks against the Resistance, if you can convince them to stand down.” Ben assured her.

“Ben…these people have been in this fight for years, decades even, sacrificing their lives in the process.” Rey said sadly. “How can I ask them to give up now?”

“Because there’s no need to fight anymore.” Ben tucked a rogue lock of hair behind her ear. “I’m not Snoke, I don’t believe subjugation is the answer. Light and dark, Sith and Jedi, First Order and Resistance…these are merely constructs created by weaker men. I intend to balance to the galaxy, to blur the lines and create something new.”

“Ben, that sounds like a noble cause, but...” She sighed. “Please tell me you’re not just saying these things to win me over.”

“I cannot lie to you, my love.” Ben reassured her. “Search your feelings, you know it to be true.”

That was the problem. She did know. She knew him better than anyone else in the whole galaxy.

“But how will I explain our relationship? What if they turn on me?” She felt awful for doubting her friends, but her fears were real. “When they find out that we’re together, I don’t know how they’ll react.”

Ben caressed her soft curves possessively. “If you’re unable to reason with the Resistance and they try to stop you from leaving, then I’ll come for you and kill every last one of them.” He solemnly swore.

Rey hugged him tightly, terrified at the thought of her friends and her lover meeting in battle.

“It’s okay.” He kissed her forehead, reading her distress. “I won’t do anything rash unless absolutely necessary.”

“You’ll wait for me to contact you?” Rey asked worriedly. “You’ll really let them live if they throw down their arms?”

“Yes.” He promised. “But, Rey, one way or another, this conflict is going to end.”

The future of the Resistance was on a razor’s edge, but her influence could tip the scales towards peace. It felt like mercy, and betrayal. Leia and Finn would understand why she couldn’t fight Ben anymore, everyone else, however…

But Rey knew Ben was right. This conflict would end in even more bloodshed if she didn’t do something, anything to stop the Resistance from reforming. Maybe she was naïve, maybe she put too much faith in Ben’s word, but Rey believed that he wanted to make the galaxy a better place. Besides their Force bond, his deeds since becoming Supreme Leader made a compelling argument to take up his cause.

“Just my cause?” Ben chuckled, easily reading her thoughts. “And here I thought you were agreeing to become my wife and partner.”

“Your wife?!” Rey gaped at his pronouncement.

“And partner.” He arched a dark brow. “Or did you think I wanted to rule alone?”

Rey stared down at him in shock. He wanted to marry her? Share his power with her?

“You really can’t be that surprised.” Ben frowned. “I’ve proposed to you before. What did you think I meant?”

“Honestly, I thought you’d want to keep me out of the political fray.” Rey found her voice. “You know, to focus on my training and our relationship. I thought I’d be your…woman.” She refused to say “mistress,” but the crass word floated between them.

“And you would have agreed to that?” He sounded incredulous.

“Well, no, but I figured that was a battle best reserved for a later date.” She grinned, suddenly finding the entire conversation incredibly funny. “I love you, Ben, and I want to be with you.”

Ben smoothed a thumb over her sweet smile, staring up at her so hopefully that her heart clenched. “Is that a yes, then? Will you join me?”

Rey leaned down again, ghosting her lips over his, finally giving him what he had begged for once before in the smoking remains of the Supremacy’s throne room. “Yes.”

-FIN-

——————

A/N: I’m super excited that there’s going to be another Reylo Week this year (under the hastag reyloveweek), so I’ve been prepping art and fics for the event! Check out my blog over on Tumblr from July 2nd – July 8th to see my work! 

[miraculouspaon]

8, 9, 24 and 28 for the fic thing!!

8. Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

This is probably my favorite bit of dialogue I’ve ever written, it’s from Your Princess is in Another Castle, during the scene where Marinette is about to help rescue Adele from her captors, but Adele doesn’t know that:

“It’s interesting,” Adele said, ignoring the request. “You’ve clearly had some kind of training in this regard. If it were just you, I’d have a very difficult time doing a reading, but her,” Adele pointed to Marinette, “she’s clear as a bell. She’s barely had any training at all, right?” She studied Marinette for a moment. “Since when does the FBI hire thirteen year olds?” she asked.“I’m fifteen,” Marinette snapped before she could stop herself. Oh, God, that was officially the first thing she'd said to Adrien’s mother. Adele raised an eyebrow.“The question stands,” she said. “What is an untrained fifteen year old doing on this very dangerous mission? What, is it Bring Your Daughter To Work Day at the FBI or something?”“Ma’am, I sincerely hope I did not just hear you imply that I look old enough to be the mother of a fifteen year old girl,” Miller said. Adele didn’t answer, but instead just stood there silently in thought for a moment, before her expression narrowed.“You’re not… you're not a superhero, aren’t you?” Marinette started to turn bright red as Adele's eyes widened. “Well, that is interesting. Of course, now the question is, why on earth would you volunteer to help the FBI?”“Ma'am, I am really gonna have to ask you to leave my partner alone.”“Oh, but we have so much in common,” Adele said mockingly. “We’re both from Paris, we’re both-well, I'm not a superhero anymore, but I used to be, we…” Adele trailed off before narrowing her eyes yet again at Marinette. “Wait. A superhero from Paris… do you have a Miraculous?” Again, there was no need to wait for Marinette to give any response. “And you came here? Well, I certainly hope you people know what you’re doing, because if I just spent four years in captivity in order to keep my Miraculous away from Henrik only for you to come along with and hand him another one, I am going to be extremely put out. Which one do you have, anyway? Fox? Bee? Too much to hope you found mine, I suppose… good Lord, you don’t have one of the big ones, do you? Jesus, you do. Do you have any idea what kind of damage Henrik could do with a major Miraculous? I rejected mine because with it he could have taken over the world in a week, with yours it probably wouldn’t even take him until the end of the day, and you-”“Oh my God,” Marinette exclaimed, finally snapping, “I cannot believe I have been listening to everyone singing your praises nonstop for like a month now, you are the most annoying person I have ever met in my life.”

What I love about this scene, other than it just being like my favorite brand of awkward-in-the-middle-of-a-crisis, is that Adele is not behaving at all like how anyone would imagine in this scenario, she’s certainly not behaving anything like Marinette imagined when she imagined heroically rescuing Adrien’s mother, but it makes sense. She’s been held captive by her enemies for four years, she knows something is up but she doesn’t know what, and nobody’s fucking telling her anything. So she’s upset and she’s lashing out. I love playing with characters having limited information, and how that affects their decisions and behavior.

9. Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Heroes has certainly been the most work, no contest, it’s my most ambitious story, but aside from the final action-heavy chapters it didn’t fight me very much. No Happily Ever Afters might have had the most emotionally difficult scenes to write, particularly the one where Adele confronts Jonathan over everything he’s done, although Just Before Losing Everything is a close second on that-heck, I originally started writing Heroes to put off writing the Gabriel/Jonathan falling out. And The Diamonds in the Rough was difficult just because it got away from me, it was for a gift exchange with like a 1500 word minimum and it wound up being 12k-and it very much wanted to be longer, but there was a due date and I’d already gotten an extension. That fic might be the one I’m least happy with, just because the ending is rushed and could have been better if I’d had more time or if it hadn’t completely run away from me to begin with.

24. Have you ever deleted one of your published fics?

Mmmm not since I started writing for ML, but I think there were a few cringy fics I posted on ff.net back in 2002 that I managed to delete before my ability to log on to that account was forever lost to time.

28. Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Disclaimer: I read very little fic! There are, I’m quite certain, many many many very talented writers in this fandom that I don’t read. This is mostly because it’s difficult for me, as a writer, to stay in the headspace of my own fictional worlds if I am constantly indulging in the fictional worlds of others. I make very few exceptions to this, so don’t feel bad if you’re not one of them! That being said:

@gabriel-fucking-agreste: My fandom bff, her fics about my problematic faves are always the perfect mix of sexy and compelling. She’s the one who made me see the light on Nathalie! She inspires so much of what I write in turn as well. Definitely go check out her stuff!

@metawohoo: A Witch’s Familiar is easily the most emotionally devastated I’ve ever felt reading any fanfic, possibly just any story ever. If you like anything I’ve ever written, you will love this story, go read it right now.

@seasonofthegeek: Just For Tonight is killing me on like a daily basis at this point, it’s a problem. I love the world she’s created so much. Season has an incredible talent for taking the characters we all know and love, putting them in an entirely new world, and remaking them as her own.

[buckywintersoldierbarnes2017]

I Want You.

Request from @bellasett: Hello this idea just came to me I was wondering if u could do a Steve rogers where he just got unfrozen and his sex drive is up (bc it's like a side effect from the ice) and the reader has had a crush on captain America for like ever and they meet at stark tower and he ignores her and she thinks it's her but he just can't be alone with her without wanting to do the deed and maybe he's think of all the place he could have sex with her sorry this is really long if u don't do smut it's fine tho.

Note: I am soooooo sorry that it has taken me a while to get this written. Between my mind deciding to hate me and a whole lot of changes in my life everything has been a little too hectic for my muse to work. I hope this is what you were looking for! <3 I didn’t do too much smut though as my muse is very slowly coming back lol!

Steve x Reader

Words: 2,225

Warnings: Mild language and some minor smut. I haven’t gone into full detail with it and the majority is simply implied but figured I should warn you anyway....if I have missed anything please let me know :)

Disclaimer: GIF used is not mine so all credit goes to it’s creator. <3

You couldn’t believe it, not one bit. He was within arm’s reach of you, currently sleeping on the hospital bed in the room, his chest clearing rising up and then falling back down again at a steady pace….but still there was a part of you that was convinced you were going to wake up soon and be pulled back to reality.

Ever since you were a child you had grown up knowing his face, his name, and he was the very reason you now had the job that you did – working for Shield. He had made it his life mission to save others, never once expecting anything in return, and he had made the ultimate sacrifice in doing so. As far as you were concerned doing this job was your way of thanking him, something you never thought you would get to do in person.

Not only that but you were just like any other red blooded woman and you had developed quite the crush on him despite having never been in the same room as him until now.

A tired groan interrupted your thoughts and the rather perverted gaze you’d had on him as his eyes started to open.

“Captain Rogers?”

All hints of admiration faded from your face as a look of concern replaced it. This guy had been frozen for over 70 years, so he was going to have no idea where he was, who you were, or what year it even was. Agent Hill and Director Fury had both considered creating a façade to make him believe that he was still in his own time but you had quickly put the idea down; if you start with a lie how could you possibly expect him to ever trust you?

“Wh-Where am I?”

“You’re somewhere safe.” You sat yourself down onto the edge of his bed and although the temptation to take his hand was hard to resist you knew that it wouldn’t be the right course of action. He didn’t know you and when someone was both confused and scared they become unpredictable. “Now I know it is easier said than done but I need you to remain calm and just listen to me okay? You have been through quite the ordeal.”

As his eyes finally opened fully and his blue hues fell on you, confusion etched itself onto his face.

“What do you mean?”

Here it was, the moment you had been dreading, your next words were going to change his life forever and you couldn’t even begin to think how he would react.

“You’ve been asleep Captain…..for 70 years. Now I kn-“

You had started to rush into the reassuring part of your speech, noticing the glint of worry igniting in his eyes, and the reservations you’d had just moments before about placing your hand onto his flew out of the window completely as you encased one of his strong hands, but your words were cut short as he shot upright in the bed and his free hand gripped onto your arm hard.

Panic quickly built up inside of you but when you saw his cheeks beginning to glow a deep crimson colour confusion soon overrode it. He was…..blushing? Out of all the scenarios you had pictured in your head of how this conversation would go this was most certainly not one of them. Anger? Yes. Confusion? Absolutely! Maybe even a little sadness at the fact that everyone he had once known was either dead or dying. But what reason could there be for him to be embarrassed or nervous?

His eyes weren’t meeting your gaze at all, not even for a split second, and after a moment or two you finally followed his line of sight and immediately noticed the bulge that had formed underneath the sheets. Now it was your turn to feel the heat rising in your cheeks.

“You need to leave.”

The tone of his voice had you pulling your eyes away from the rather unexpected sight of his arousal and in a rather flustered manner you left the room. Your heart was racing as you silently signalled for two other Shield agents to head in and speak with the Captain

Things only got even more weird after that day…

                                                * * * * * * * * * *

ONE YEAR LATER

Your job at Shield was becoming increasingly harder to achieve with each day that had passed since Captain Rogers had woken up. Every time he entered the same room as you his entire body stiffened, and his eyes frantically looked at anything but you…or he simply left the room before he had even finished stepping through the door.

The first few times this had happened you simply shrugged it off and put it down to the fact that he was nervous and unsure of all the new people are him but now, a whole year down the line, it was just getting stupid….and rather hurtful if you were perfectly honest with yourself.

“Did you ever find out what it was you did?”

It barely registered with you that someone had taken a seat on the sofa next to you, or that it was your closest friend, as you continued to watch for any other reactions from the Captain.

“Earth to [y/n]!” A hand waving itself in front of your face snapped you out of your little surveillance mission. “Starting to think you have seriously insulted Rogers you know. You’re the only one here he doesn’t speak to.”

“Tell me about it…” Your words showed your annoyance at the situation and rather reluctantly you pulled your gaze away from the blonde Avenger and placed it onto the redhead sat beside you instead. “Maybe he blames me. I was the first person he saw when he woke up after decades of being frozen…he might think that it was me who woke him up.”

You didn’t even bother to hide both the fear and the panic you felt at such a scenario being true and the volume of your voice rose enough to start gaining the attention of others currently in the room – except the one person who was causing this turmoil for you.

“Fury has already explained all that to him [y/n]. He knows full well that you were not responsible for that.”

Her words went through one ear and then straight out of the other as the sound of footsteps stole your attention. Surprise, surprise! Steve was yet again leaving the room with a rather flushed look on his face. Well he wasn’t going to get very far this time because you’d just about had enough now.

“Then maybe it is about damn time I get the truth out of him.”

“[y/n] wa-“

In athletic fashion you had jumped over the back of the sofa you had been sitting on, Nat’s hand only grazing your shoulder and failing miserably in her attempts to stop you from going after Steve.

“He is definitely about to get his arse handed to him.” She sighed in defeat.

                                              * * * * * * * * * *

“Steve!”

Your voice echoed through the corridor as the door to the shared living area closed behind you.

“Not now [y/n].”

Everyone else in the tower got the kind-hearted Steve Rogers, the one that would crack a joke whether it was funny or not, but you got nothing like that, quite the opposite in fact. His words were always cold and even on the days where you knew full well he wasn’t busy he would push you away as though he didn’t have the time to talk with you.

“NO!” That made him stop dead in his tracks. No one had ever heard you shout with such an anger but it still didn’t seem to be enough to make him turn and face you…something which only fuelled your anger even more. “You don’t get to walk away from me until you tell me what the fuck your problem is!”

“Language.”

“Seriously? You’re going to scold me for my cuss word while you have been ignoring me for going on a year now?!”

He must have been out of his mind. It was an apology you had been expecting from him, an explanation even, but a scolding? He had literally just rid you of any hint of patience you’d had, which was made apparent when you stormed towards him and took a rough hold of his arm. Up until now you had only ever seen his body tensing but now you were feeling it with your own hand and it made you feel worse than you had ever done so before….sick even.

How could someone hate you this much?

Everything that happened next did so at a speed which left your mind still trying to catch up after your back had hit the wall and an animalistic growl rolled from the Captain’s lips. Thanks to his enhanced speed he had managed to pin you to the wall of the corridor and now you were the one who wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“You should have just left it [y/n]. You have no idea how hard it is for me to be around you.”

“Why?! I haven’t done anything to you! It wasn’t me who decided on unfreezing you.”

The only response you received from him was a quiet laugh laced with a mischief that was completely foreign to you as one of his hands glided down the length of your arm.

“What the hell is so amusing Captain?”

“Oh just the little fact that all this time you have been thinking that I hate you my mind has gone in the complete opposite direction.”

His hand continued to make its way down your arm until it came to rest on your hip, the sharp blue hues of his eyes never once leaving you. Never had you been this close to him, not even when he had woken up a year ago, and it was only now that you noticed the flecks of green in his eyes….good god he was incredible…

“Ever since the day I woke up and saw you for the first time I haven’t been able to control myself.”

“Wh-What?”

Out of all the scenarios you had pictured in your mind as to how this conversation would go the words that he had just spoken hadn’t been in a single one….there was no way that Captain America, the poster boy of World War Two himself, would see you in that kind of way.

“Don’t believe me?” With a single raised eyebrow, the hand of his that wasn’t resting on your hip reached for one of yours and slowly moved it nearer to his body. “This is what you do to me. This is what I have been trying to stay away from.”

You didn’t need to ask him to clarify what he was talking about because the bulge in his trousers currently pressing up against your hand was more than enough for it all to click into place. Of course you were still rather annoyed at him for the way that he had handled it, for ignoring you all this time, but right now you couldn’t focus enough to devise a plan to punish him…..not when his arousal was growing even more underneath your touch.

“I don’t….I don’t understand..”

“Did they stop teaching sex education in schools while I was frozen or something?”

A playful smirk tugged at the corner of his lips as he left your hand where it was, enjoying the sensation building up inside of him, and his lips started to lay gentle kisses onto the crook of your neck.

“No I didn-“

All your childhood you had fantasised about being in such a situation with Captain America, just as all the girls now did, but feeling his lips pressing up against your bare skin blew all of those thoughts you had conjured up right out of the window…..they paled in comparison to the reality. Biting down onto your bottom lip while you tried to compose yourself enough to continue speaking you refrained from letting a groan slip from you.

“I meant how….and why hide it?”

If he had noticed you reacting to him he didn’t mention anything, only pulling away from you after you had voiced your question.

“Because every time I saw you I could do nothing but picture you…and me…inside every room of this building. I hid it because I didn’t want you to think I was a sleaze ball. This is hardly the image of me that you grew up with [y/n].” Both of his hands rested themselves onto your hips as the pads of his thumbs traced light patterns onto the vest top you were wearing. “Even now…when I know you deserve better….I can’t keep my hands off you.”

“Who says I want you to keep them off me?”

Now it was his turn to look surprised but before a single word could escape his lips you were dragging him down the corridor; a task that wasn’t at all easy given his muscular frame but you didn’t care….you had fancied this man for the majority of your life and now you knew he’d thought of you in that way for a whole year you weren’t about to waste another minute.

                                        ~~~~~~~~~~

Permanent tag list (closed for now and any strike throughs wouldn’t allow me to tag):  

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[allenmendezsr]

Insider Infiltration

New Post has been published on https://autotraffixpro.app/allenmendezsr/insider-infiltration/

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[secondstartotheright-imagines]

A Love That Needs No Words.

Request from anon: I absolutely love your writing❤ Could I please get a Gideon imagine and it's day of Killian and Emma's wedding and you both get bored so he takes you somewhere else? The rest is up to youuu! Second request from anon: Heyy! Please could you do some Gideon fluff?:):):)

Note: Okay so I figured these two requests would make for one lovely piece so I have put them together. So enjoy the playful and fluffy Gideon!

Gideon x Reader

Words: 1,408

Disclaimer: None of the GIFs used are mine so all credit goes to their wonderful creators.

Why was it that the most exciting day of someone’s life was so mind numbingly dull for everyone else? Your friend Killian was marrying his one true love and you couldn’t have been any happier for them but you really weren’t the ’wedding’ guest’ kind of person and instead of shedding a tear like the majority of people around you were doing so you found yourself stifling a yawn with your hand.

Your eyes drifted over to the other side of the seating, watching as the other guests acted as they should do during this emotional event, but then your eyes caught sight of someone who wasn’t even looking at the bride and groom….but at you. His deep brown eyes instantly had a small smile making its way onto your lips, just as they always seemed to, and if you had any kind of interest in the wedding before you most certainly didn’t now. There was only one person who had your full and undivided attention and he was currently showing you his own boredom by over-exaggerating a roll of his eyes and a yawn.

You couldn’t stop the chuckle from escaping your lips, gaining some annoyed glances from the people sat nearest to you, but your smile didn’t falter. If anything the longer you looked over at him the happier you found yourself feeling.

He tilted his head in a direction that pointed away from the wedding and although he didn’t utter a single word you knew what he was suggesting. There were so many people here there was no way Killian and Emma would even notice that two of you had disappeared; they were so lost in each other they probably didn’t even realise they had a whole crowd of people watching them anyway.

Without a moment’s hesitation you nodded and began to make your way out of the aisle of seating you had been assigned to, excusing yourself each time you heard a tut coming from someone, Gideon hadn’t started to move yet but you knew he was more than likely to just use his magic to leave anyway…..damnit you hated him for that sometimes.

But as you made it to the back of all the guests you felt a hand wrapping itself around yours and was more than a little surprised when you saw that it was Gideon.

“What? You didn’t think I would make you walk out on your own did you? I may not be the nicest person at times [y/n] but I always make sure I am a gentleman when it comes to pretty ladies.”

His voice was barely even above a whisper as it carried down your ear and a cheeky little smirk made an appearance on his face as a cloud of smoke enveloped both of you and transported you to the lake. As soon as the smoke dissipated your hand fell away from his hold while your body launched itself at the nearest object that was fixed to the ground….a tree. The wave of nausea that had hit you caused you to feel far too unsteady on your feet.

“You seriously need to start warning me when you are about to do that. You know I get travel sick…”

He shook his head, making his way over to a bench, as he laughed to himself softly.

“Only you can complain about being able to get to the other side of town in just a few short seconds. Now come….sit with me.”

You didn’t move right away, fighting off the constant nauseous waved that were hitting you, but once your stomach finally managed to settle itself you left the stability of the tree and made your way over to where he was sat. He was watching s the lake’s resident swans glided effortlessly on the water, barely even creating ripples underneath them, and although the sight of them was breath-taking your eyes remained on him.

“So…going to tell me why you brought me out here then? I thought you hated the lake.”

“I do.” Pulling his eyes away from the lake he now met with your gaze instead. “But you don’t…and I figured this would make you happier than that wedding back there.”

Some people in this town may still have been afraid of Gideon, given the things he had done while under the Black Fairy’s control, but all you saw was the good inside of him. He didn’t always show it but when he did it warmed your heart to see it. If the Evil Queen could mend the reputation she’d once had with everyone then so could he. Scooting a little closer to him your head rested itself on top of his shoulder as his right arm draped itself around your shoulder.

“Thank you. You know…you should really give this place a chance. It’s absolutely stunning in the winter when the snow has fallen.”

“Who says you need to wait until Winter.”

He raised up his free hand, manipulating it into different positions as though he was about to start some kind of dance, and after only a few short moments large chunks of snow began to fall around you. The air didn’t change, that remained as warm as any other summer day would, but the snow settled on the ground rather than melting away into nothing. You were in complete awe to the sight around you that looked like it had come straight out of a Christmas film and eventually you left his side completely as you stood yourself up and held both hands out to catch as many snowflakes as you could.

“This….this is incredible!” The smile on your face was stretching from ear to ear but as the realisation dawned on you that he was using his magic to put on this magnificent display and that only meant one thing. “…but all magic comes with a price Gideon…” For the first time that day your smile faltered. Snowflakes settled in your [h/c] locks and on the tip of your nose but your excitement had simmered somewhat. “…don’t go getting yourself into trouble for me.”

“Risking getting into trouble is what makes life so exciting [y/n]! I may have my heart back now but there is no way I am going to be as good as the heroes in this town. Being so….nice just isn’t me at all.”

If you were perfectly honest you wouldn’t want him to be like the others either; he wouldn’t be the Gideon you fell so hard for if he was any different to how he was right now.

“I’m not going to disagree with you there but if worst case scenario happens and you end up in jail I am so not getting your arse out of there.”

You stuck your tongue out at him before spinning round on the balls of your feet so that you could face the lake once more. There was a tremendous amount of snow falling, to the point where it was now thick on the ground, but it didn’t deter the swans from continuing with their swim. In fact, if you didn’t know any better you could have sworn that they were enjoying it just as much as you were.

It had only been a few seconds since you had turned away from him and already you could feel a pair of arms wrapping themselves around your waist from behind as Gideon leaned his tall frame downwards so that he could rest his chin on top of your shoulder. His warm breath was cruising over the bare skin of your neck, causing your heart to race that little bit faster than usual, and then his words came out and made it skip a beat completely.

“Yes you would….as I would save you each and every time you found yourself in trouble. Because that is what two people in love with each other do.

“Who said I loved you?” You smirked

“You didn’t need to sweetheart. Your heart is telling me everything right now.”

A tender kiss was placed onto the crook of your neck, his lips lingering there longer than they needed to, as you let out a contented sigh. He was right, as always, you really did love him and you knew that he loved you too….and it amazed you that after all these years you had managed to find a love so strong that it didn’t need words to confirm it.

Permanent tag list: @fallenfairy16 @brieflybigwonderland @gayvvarden @sammysgirl1997

[jj-ktae]

Foreign

Title : Foreign

Pairing : Jinyoung x Foreigner Reader (no specific nationality/origins)

Genre : Fluff, Romance

Author : Myself

Summary : You’re supposed to meet your boyfriend’s parents, but you’re a foreigner and you start freaking out, so your boyfriend comforts you.

Disclaimer : I described a reader that doesn’t stick to one type of person and I am by no mean implying that one type is better than the other. I’m merely evoking the issue regarding beauty in South Korea but it doesn’t reflect my own thinking. All words between quotation marks are not said by me but by a character. 

It’s a fictional scenario.

Red dress? Too fancy. Long skirt? Too Tacky. Jeans? Too casual.

You shook your hands in the air, throwing yet another piece of clothing and hating yourself for not being able to buy one single decent outfit for this important day. There was nothing worth being shown, and even less parade into in front of your boyfriend’s parents. You selected a pair of black pants and took a pale blue embroidered tunic, hoping it would have a girly effect on the people who were pictured as severe and merciless. You checked on your reflection in the mirror and sighed.

You looked like nothing they would love. Nothing at all.

Your big eyes showed more of your non-Korean side than the tiny bit of Asian blood your grandmother had injected into your genes. Your skin was what your friends back home called “pale” but here you were not and it was making you cringe, because you liked it usually, your boyfriend did, your friends did, but these people won’t, and you know it.

You were everything they didn’t wish for they son, or so you’ve heard.

You sat on the dressing table chair and looked at your makeup, quietly waiting for you to apply it on your face and you slapped it away, annoyed by your own looks.

“You’re not ready yet?” Your boyfriend’s voice was what made you finally let go, and the first tear fell, heavy and salted. He looked like he saw it because a minute later, he was behind you, and you looked at him through his reflection on the mirror.

“Look at me. Will I ever be ready?” You wiped a tear and he sighed.

“My parents will love you, stop worrying. And what if they don’t? Am I living with them?” He cooed, kissing the top of your head and you laughed, bitter.

“Please…don’t give me the ‘our love is stronger’ speech, Jinyoung.” You felt even more pathetic.

“I’m just trying to relax you, look at you, you’re so tensed.” His hands went to your shoulders and tried untying the painful knots, accumulated by a sleepless night and an incredible coffee intake.

“Of course I am tensed, I’m about to get bashed by your parents.” You wiped another tear, feeling yourself hyperventilating at the thought of being roasted alive by two old Korean traditional parents.

“First of all, my parents don’t bash. Second, there is no reason for them to hate you. They know me, and they would never disrespect somebody I love only because they don’t like them.” Jinyoung was being way too calm for the situation, you thought. He was usually relaxed, calm, logical.

Everything you weren’t. You were the definition of stress, in all its aspects.

“You know, they all say that in the movies, and they end up being dishonored and thrown to jail for non-respect of parents’ authority or I don’t know how you call this.” You said fast, the hint of a strong English accent suddenly reappearing because of stress.

Jinyoung laughed, wrinkles popping and teeth hidden behind a hand. “You should stop watching these weird dramas with the boys. Korean people don’t do this anymore, you know.”

“Well, they still need to approve of us or we’ll be in trouble.” You got up and paced around the room, trying to think of a way to avoid this meeting.

Your boyfriend was following you, amused by the situation “They will, of course they will. How can I be so laid back and you so stressed? Of anything, they are my parents, I should be worrying about the outcome.”

You laughed “You’re a fucking smart-ass, that’s why you’re always so laid back. Can you see me? Have you ever seen my face? It’s already a miracle that we’re dating.”

Jinyoung looked surprised “What do you mean, a miracle?” he was still walking behind you, even when you fastened your pace to wander the flat, stress boiling you from the inside.

“A miracle because nobody thought you’d date a non-Korean girl, let alone non-Asian at all. Everyone was shocked when you introduced me to them, don’t you remember? How is this going to be any different with your parents, the people who think about your future and all the bullshit about grandchildren and building a family? They might even think our kids will look like damn hybrids!” You stopped to look at him and found him laughing, like you were entertaining his ass.

“You’re panicking, take a deep breath and don’t call our non-existent kids hybrids.” He laughed again.

You shook your head “I’m serious, Jinyoung. This is not a joke. Please don’t laugh.” You took your bag on the table and sighed, hoping for the best “Since you don’t believe me, let’s go. The faster the better.” You said and he took your hand.

“I’m sorry, let’s talk. Come and sit down.” He sat on the couch and pulled on your hand, making you seat next to him.

“We’re going to be late.” You complained. This was too messy to handle, right now.

“I’d rather be late with you relaxed than on time with you tearing your hair off your head.” He stated and you rolled your eyes. Maybe you’d look better without hair.

“So, let me sum up. You’re stressed because you think my parents will hate you for being a foreigner. Why didn’t you tell me this was running through your mind?” He tried, both his hand over yours.

“Because I knew you’d tell me not to worry.” You whispered, feeling like a kid.

“Of course I would say that. My parents trust me, and they know I only do what I think is best for me.” Jinyoung put a hand on your chin, lifting your head to meet his watchful eyes.

“What if the best for them is a girl of the same origin?” You asked again, trying not to be hypnotised by the depth of his dark orbs.

“What does the best has to do with your country of origin?” He looked like he didn’t understand your point.

“You know what I mean! Please don’t act like I’m crazy.” It was frustrating, because you knew you were right. It was a common thing.

“I know you’re not crazy, I just want you to understand that I consider what’s best for me based on how it makes me feel. This has nothing to do with the way you look.” His hand cupped your face, slowly. “I am in love with you, in every way possible. You embody everything I need, in the good and worst moments. I am happy to share so many moments with you, and I want it to stay that way for as long as you’re willing to have me, because I’ll always have you. You don’t look like everyone else here, because you look like my girlfriend, and there is only one girl in my life. This is what makes you unique.”

You grimaced “unique, huh.”

“Yeah, are you judging my tastes now?” he teased and you shook your head.

“At least one of us thinks I’m not unfit in the picture.” You mumbled and he pinched your cheeks.

“Yeah whatever you say. In any case, stop thinking you’re not going to be accepted as my girlfriend for such a reason. I know it’s a stressful moment, but this is going to be okay. You’re a wonderful person, and I want you to start believing it. I’m far from being worth of your stress anyway.” He added.

Your shocked eyes met his “Stop it, you’re worth so much more! Most of the time, I don’t get your joke references. Once, I walked in with my shoes on, yesterday I spoke informally to my boss, I don’t like spicy food, and I can’t even act cute.” You listed, ashamed.

Jinyoung smiled “And I love you for it. There’s nothing wrong with adapting to a culture.”

“I’ve been here for 5 years!” You growled.

Jinyoung approached his body from yours “Listen to me. You’re doing a great job for someone who couldn’t speak a word of Korean. I fell in love with you because you were not like everyone else. I find it wonderful when you don’t understand what I say, it really makes me want to kiss your troubled face. You only walked in with your shoes on once, your boss is an old creepy man who looks at your butt so serves him right, I can eat the spicy stuff for you when you can’t handle it, and I don’t find cute stuff that attractive anyway.”

He continued when you only sighed in response. “My parents know I wouldn’t dare bringing a girl I’m not planning on staying with, so they will consider you as somebody I cherish, rather than some foreign girl. My mom knows a lot about you since I told her how amazing you were already, and my dad will honestly go with anything as long as you tell him he did a nice in renovating the house. They’re actually really soft, a loft softer than me so don’t worry. If you got me this easily, you’ll get them, too.” He brushed his nose with yours and wrapped his hands around you, like a shield.

“I really hope you’re right.” You lamented and he smiled against your face.

“I am always right, babe.” He breathed against your lips, before pecking them softly.

His kisses were always full of passion. They had this taste of sweetness and longing which he was always making sure you felt when he was close.

“Now, are you feeling better?” He asked and you shrugged, refusing to admit that he had succeeded in melting your heart once more, like every single time he was next to you.

“Kind of…promise you won’t leave me if they kick me out of the house.”

Jinyoung chuckled and acquiesced, getting up to grab his jacket after one last kiss on your perfectly shaped face.

“Even if the whole world was against you, I’d still hide you in my pocket to protect you.”

“You’re horribly corny, today.” You said, waiting for him to put on his jacket.

“And you better enjoy it. Now let’s go, my sweet panicked darling.” He tapped your butt gently and you squeaked, feeling like the luckiest foreign person on earth.

[yelloskello]

idk how to word this. I want to say ‘i’m starting to realize I have bigtime issues with people not believing me’, but idk if it’s true that i’m only now starting to realize it. I know in the past i’ve talked at length with people about how nobody believed me when I talked about the shitty, abusive behaviors of my best friend - nobody that could really do anything, anyways, and the people who did believe me and could do something were too afraid to actually do anything. I feel like I probably knew I had issues with it back then. Maybe I just have forgotten. But regardless, in the face of some recent events, i’m realizing I have some bigtime issues with people not believing me, and it’s not just from my abusive friend.

I still explicitly remember being a kid and my family talking about how i’d cry alligator tears (using that exact term; it was the first time i’d ever heard of alligator tears) to get what I wanted, and I remember feeling incredibly frustrated back then that I was constantly just getting dismissed, or people were just laughing at my behavior. I’d be upset, and they’d laugh, and then i’d be angry because I just fucking wanted people to respect how I was feeling or take me seriously. 

I remember my family singing a lot of songs to make fun of me when I expressed unhappiness or distress. I’ve talked before about how i’d talk about how other kids hate me and they’d just laugh and fucking sing that song ‘nobody likes me everybody hates me’ to make fun of how I felt, because I guess they didn’t believe that I could actually feel that way? Well joke’s on you, motherfuckers, ‘cause guess who did feel that way? And continued to feel that way? And had big breakdowns in my teens over feeling that way? And who resigned themselves to coasting through community college without making friends because they felt that way? And was borderline suicidal over feeling that way in college? And who has accepted it as a truth of their life now? So, like, excellent work actively dismissing the signs, folks, only resulted in a lifetime of low self-esteem. 

And it wasn’t just that: there’s other shit that I have a lot of baggage concerning now, and part of it is because when I expressed distress over it in the first place, it was laughed off as a kid being moody. (Driving around looking at christmas lights, for instance: I felt trapped, bored, and anxious because I had NO idea and NO control over when it would be over. I had nothing to entertain myself while they forced me to go along on this thing. And when I expressed that I was miserable, it got laughed off. Guess who avoids going to any events where I don’t know when it’ll be over, and if I do go, I HAVE to have a way to leave of my own volition, now? Guess who still avoids looking at christmas lights like the plague?)

(Funnily enough, my family STILL just dismisses it when I tell them these things. I mention to them that I completely failed to make friends in college aside from two people, and that most of my classmates just pretended like I didn’t even exist, even if I was sitting two feet away and talking directly to them; I mention that on graduation day I was supposed to meet with one of the very few people who I did think I was friends with, and I sat there alone for an HOUR waiting for them to show up, watching as the crowds cleared... And they’d just forgotten about me and gone home, and that realizing that’s what happened was utterly devastating to me: afterwards I remember sitting on my bed, sobbing and paralyzed because I was so hurt I couldn’t make myself move. I tell my family this, and i’m met with, ‘oh everybody loves you abby!!’ because evidently they think i’m still the same obnoxious kid mindlessly running around with other obnoxious kids that I was when I was, like, 5, when nobody actually gave a shit about liking each other and just wanted to go crawl through the dirt with other kids their age. Most people don’t care about me. I’ve got fucking factual evidence of it. I’m intensely socially awkward and people don’t want to be my friend because I bring nothing they appreciate to the table. I’m different when i’m around people who are already my friend, but that doesn’t change the fact that I have a severely hard time making friends because to most acquaintances, i’m not repugnant, but my company isn’t enjoyed, either. That’s just how it is. And it just gets dismissed.)

What kind of people fucking tell a child to their face that they’re a big fat liar who fakes emotions to get what they want? What kind of person laughs off their child’s distress because they don’t think it could possibly be real? Do you know what kinda baggage that can leave a person with? I do, because i’m sure as fuck living with it right now. The very fact that I remember these things so well goes to fucking show that, yeah, it actually affected me seriously. These weren’t just little nothings to me that I shrugged off and forgot about. Nobody listened to me. Nobody believed me.

(I also explicitly remember my family making fun of me for wording things wrong, lyrics to a song or something, and how shitty and self-conscious it made me feel back then, but nobody believed I was genuinely hurt, either. Seriously, what the fuck, these people just didn’t think I had real emotions or something.)

I remember the huge, utter, shrieking breakdown, clinging to a doorframe to try and keep from having to go, it took to finally convince my family that, no, i’m not just being a big baby, i’m not just not wanting to do something, but going to my piano teacher’s mini recitals was actually hell incarnate for me: you know those nightmares where, say, you’re at school, and you’re told you have to give a speech, and this is the first time you’ve heard of this, so you’re shoved out there on stage with hundreds of people watching you and no idea what to say? Yeah, it was that, but in real life, on a regular schedule. It was like being forced to go to an event dedicated to publicly embarrassing me, fully aware i’d be publicly embarrassed. That can’t possible have any unfortunate side-effects on a small child, right? Yeah :) But, hey, after a massive breakdown, good news, my family didn’t make me go! I can still remember the relief I felt in knowing I didn’t have to do it.

I remember being 11 and telling people I had low self-esteem and getting met with eye rolls. I remember telling people that I was aware others were avoiding me, and being told I was paranoid, only to find out later on that, yeah, people were actually avoiding me, and they said as much themselves. And then of course there was, y’know, my abusive best friend: ten years of telling people about the shit she was pulling and people finding it more likely that I was a jealous liar than my friend could possibly be doing any of the shitty things I said she was doing. I can remember explicitly being accused of being a jealous liar, in fact. Hell, more than ten years - after I stopped being friends with her, I would tell my new best friend about the shit she pulled, and she would actually listen, she would tell other people she didn’t want to be around my ex friend because of the stuff she pulled, it was downright euphoric to hear that... And then that ex friend invited her to the beach and she just tossed all that straight out the window. I can remember being unsure what notion hurt more: that she simply hadn’t actually believed me about them, or that she had and simply elected not to care.

Recently, while talking to my mother, for the first time in my life, she told me that when I was having massive breakdowns in 7th grade, when I was so paralyzed with anxiety that I couldn’t even turn a page in a book while people were yelling at me to, when people were getting frustrated with me because they believed I just didn’t want to do a thing and was being stubborn... She genuinely thinks now that it wasn’t because I didn’t want to, but because I couldn’t. And I don’t think she’ll ever know just how much telling me that meant. To have it recognized, for fucking once.

It’s gotten a little better now at the age of twenty-fucking-six. I’ve gotten better at recognizing that sometimes when people don’t believe me - like when I talk about being mentally ill and my parents insist there’s nothing wrong with me - it doesn’t fucking matter because they’re not there living my life, in fact they rarely even see me, so I know they’re talking out their ass and don’t know the half of it. But sometimes it can hurt - in fact, saying it can ‘hurt’ is putting it lightly: the other night I got so massively triggered by it that I ended up staying up til 6 am simply fueled by rage-filled thoughts about it. It hurts when people just... Straight-up dismiss what i’m saying, or shrug it off because they immediately assume it’s my crazy brain, or think i’m blowing things out of proportion. It hurts when no matter what I add, they just don’t seem to even be listening to me.

Here’s the thing: yeah, I do have crazybrain. But god help me, i’ve spent 20-some years working to get to the point i’m at now, where I can actively recognize when i’m having a crazybrain thought and when my feelings are founded in reality. I might still act on crazybrain thoughts, but i’ll disclaimer them (for instance, recently telling someone that i got a certain impression based on their vague wording, as it was reading to me as if they were trying to avoid telling me something they knew I wouldn’t want to hear, but I added that I know I can easily convince myself of the worst case scenario and that’s probably what I was doing there). If i’m presenting something to someone and not adding a disclaimer, it’s because I have very good reason to believe it. If I express that something is happening in my life or that I feel a certain way, you better fucking believe I have a good reason to feel that way or believe that thing. I’m sure I still talk out my ass sometimes, but it is not common. I say what I fucking mean.

Why the fuck people just don’t believe me about shit i’ll never understand. Do I just give off the vibe of a liar, or something? Christ.

[marginalgloss]

about going wild

I’ve heard it said about Curb Your Enthusiasm that some people find it cringeworthy, or difficult to watch; but while revisiting it recently, I began to find it incredibly comforting. I am a preternaturally anxious person who wastes a lot of time and energy in thinking up elaborate scenarios involving confrontation and meaningless argument — like, for example, the idea if I order a pair of shoes from a department store then refuse to collect them, the shoe clerk will be angry at me forever, and he will find me in the street and publicly shame me for buying the shoes which I had trusted him to set aside for me — and the whole situation will spiral into a catastrophe beyond my control.

You would think, then, that watching these situations play out on screen would induce a sort of empathetic anxiety in me. That I would feel bad on Larry’s behalf. But actually the opposite is true: it is heartening. I know it this is a meaningless pantomime version of confrontation — one that comes with no pounding heart, no nauseated stomach — but it is calming all the same. There's something reassuring about seeing someone encounter the very worst and most absurdly contrived thing that I could possibly imagine. It is an elaborate version of asking ‘what’s the worst that could happen?’ — but it is one of the best.

What confounds me is the scenes where Larry gets angry with other people. I would never get angry at somebody who took too long trying various samples of ice cream. I would never get angry at service staff, in any context. This is not the same as saying I wouldn’t feel angry — only that I would never express it openly. I seethe, I suppose, and I scowl; and I do all kinds of other aggressive things that are usually prefaced with ‘passive-’, though they aren’t. I regret it all intensely. To me, the alternative feels sadistic: to know you are angry, to understand that; and then to quite deliberately and loudly inflict that on somebody else. Anger equates exactly in my mind to pain and unhappiness.

At least in Curb Your Enthusiasm such displays of anger rarely end well for the protagonist. But in life, it's the other way round. The most capable people are those best equipped to manage their own anger: to deploy it, and to resist it, in order to further their own ends.

‘We aren’t allowed to get angry these days,’ is the sort of stupid thing I say from time to time. I have to chide myself, because what I mean is: ‘I don’t feel like I’m allowed to be angry.’ Pronouns are a useful shield in English; we assumes a rhetorical authority which is impossible to disprove, though it really only borrows the mantle of the old third person singular one. If all else fails there is always the insistent modern use of you in the present tense. You sit at your computer; you want to scream; you fall asleep. It demands immediate identification. I have felt these things, says the author: you do too; you have; you will.

As soon as I was taught to write seriously, I was told that I was inexcusable; that I was irrelevant to the matter at hand. Some techniques work better than others. Eventually I learned that it was better to dispense with pseudo-academic disclaimers like ‘It could be argued…’ and instead maintain a posture of certainty throughout, even though it relied upon a conviction I have rarely believed and never known.

(I am trying to write about anger. Inevitably, this has become my trying to write about how I cannot write about anger. In doing so, I am trying to shift the blame away from myself and towards the medium. Of course there is nothing wrong with the medium. People are angry in writing all the time, especially on the internet. What I want to say — awkwardly, in writing — is that I am mostly incapable of expressing anger like a person probably should.)

I used to think my way was better. I used to think there was a virtue in absolute restraint. I think I still harbour a vague contempt for deliberate displays of frustration, even though they are a regular and sometimes commendable part of human life. Witness, for example, the borderline contempt in my above mention of ‘the most capable people’. I prize restraint because I always thought restraint meant resilience. I was entirely wrong. Some of the most resilient people are the least restrained. I am, as you may have guessed, not in the least bit resilient. I go around with a straight back and a fixed expression and I wilt before other people's anger.

[eureka-its-zico]

Obsession

Scenario: The temp agency sent you to a new job that was supposed to be something simple that came along with easy money: lots of easy money. But simple is far from what you get when you realize, being the secretary for Jeon Jungkook, comes with his own form of demands.

A/N: this is part one of the obsession series. I blame Jungkook with his stupid sultry looks and how damn good he’s looked in suits the whole BS&T era. I ended up writing this last night sitting in my car for almost two hours.This is honestly going to be dirty and kinky and I’m not gonna apologize. I hope you all enjoy!

Genre: Jungkook x Reader

Words: 3100

Disclaimer: As always, any gifs used are not mine and belong to their rightful owners!!

Warnings: Smut, oral, and slight rough play

“I am a professional. I. Am. A. Professional. I’M A GODDAMN PROFESSIONAL!”

Your hands smacked down on the marble of the bathroom counter. The words you’d been muttering to your reflection over and over like a damn mantra somehow becoming less effective. You felt like you couldn't breathe in the high-waisted pencil skirt, which wasn’t a ludicrous assumption since you could barely walk properly in it with, or without, the heels.

The reason behind your anxiety ridden pep talk: Jeon Jungkook.

One of the youngest high-ranking executives in the company, he was known for being incredibly smart; thinking outside the box to close deals and create new overseas partnerships, charming, and a decorated athlete. Before you’d been assigned to the company as his latest secretary, the only time you’d actually ever seen him was on the cover of magazines and photographed next to expensive people with beautiful faces to match. Jeon Jungkook held a life you envied.

You’d only ended up at the temp agencies to help find work that paid a lot of money in hopes to pay off your latest stint at “finding yourself.” So far you’d taken culinary classes, architecture and design, and one semester of medical. You bounced around from major to major so much your financial aid eventually ran out, and you were left with hefty bills and no official career.

The first day at the office had been an even bigger disaster than your nonexistent degrees going up in flames. You didn't own anything that was even half as fancy as what was inside the building, but you’d done what you could. You knew it wasn't enough. It was spoken plainly by the looks you received when you exited the elevator and were greeted by the main receptionist in the lobby. Her desk was in the shape of a circle so wide it practically took up the entire room, leaving barely enough space to get through on either side. Everything screamed of over the top rich tastes, from the chandelier above the entrance to the cherry wood floors. The receptionists reaction spoke volumes: you didn't belong there.

“Can I help you?”

“Uh-uhm yes. I’ve been assigned as Mr. Jeon’s new secretary.”

The girl at the front didn't even try to hide her scoff of disbelief. Her eyes taking you in as your hands rung with nerves into the cords of your purse. She continued to eye you before she removed herself from her seat and flicked her index finger for you to follow.

“Oh, he is going to love this,” she snickered, leaving you to hurry to catch up.

It seemed everywhere you walked people stopped in their glassed offices to watch your descent down the hallway. The other workers in cubicles regarding you like a dead woman walking, until you wished you could just hide your face behind your purse.

You finally reached a pair of large dark wood doors. It seemed like they would weigh a ton, but the receptionist easily pushed it open and bowed immediately.

“Mr. Jeon your - ah - new secretary is here from the agency.”

You hated how amused she looked as she side-eyed your position that was still hiding behind the door.

“Well: where is she?”

His voice was soft and it made you imagine the man it belonged too had to be kind and understanding. You took a deep breath and made your way slowly around the door your feet carrying you inside until you were almost to the center of the massive room. It was indeed massive.

On both sides of the room there were floor-to-ceiling bookshelves that housed a vast array of objects. From books, photos, and what appeared to be collectibles. A bar with a couple stools in the corner to your left and a long leather couch that appeared like it was more for looks than comfort. The room was breathtaking in such a way that what you’d learned in your short stint doing architecture made you able to appreciate it. The most breathtaking thing of all, however, was the man seated behind an ornate desk.

The first thing you could mention about him was his intensity. Actually, intense didn't feel like the right word. What Jungkook carried felt stronger than that. It left your body trapped between a need to fidget and another to want a moment alone with him. Magazines did him no justice: Jungkook was more flawless in person.

You felt helpless as he regarded you with his dark eyes, but remained unreadable. You were willing to bet though, that whatever he was thinking it wasn't good.

“No.”

It was only one word: one syllable, and it still felt like you’d been crushed by a rock. Jungkook raised up from behind his desk with his hands delving into the pockets of his tailored suit as he came around the desk. This time you did grip your purse tightly to you as you were able to see now the look of distaste on his face.

“This is a high class place of business,” he stated his feet stopping just a few inches away from you. You wondered if your eyes were the size of saucers as you looked up at him. “This isn't a library. I requested for a new secretary: not a librarian.”

A hand moved from the safety of his pocket. His fingers moving out to pinch the fabric of your sweater and raised it up just before he let it drop. His hands rubbing immediately on his trousers like you were hiding cat lady coodies inside.

“I’m the only girl at the agency that is more than qualified for your company's classifications. My wardrobe shouldn't be an issue if the work is completed.”

You were practically seething. How dare he act like you were a commoner and he was royalty. You expected him to flat out tell you that you were fired or that he would request someone else. Instead, he’d added insult to injury by reaching back inside his pocket and pulling out money. Jungkook didn't even bother to look at the amount before he handed it over to you.

“I’m sure you can't afford a decent wardrobe, so consider this an advance. Go buy things that are appropriate for work tomorrow. If you don't, you can consider this your last day and that your final pay.”

And like that he dismissed you. He turned on his heels and headed back behind his desk. You wanted to show him how ladylike you could be by chucking your shoe at him. Instead, you stormed back towards the door and struggled not to sprint to the elevator. Hours after you’d left you struggled with whether or not you could afford to take the high ground and never go back, but the fact was you couldn't. You needed the money and the experience wouldn't look so bad on a new resume.

So you came back to work that next morning dressed similarly like the Barbie who’d helped you yesterday morning. Jungkook had only glanced over your new look briefly before his eyes went back to the papers in front of him and a dismissive hand waving you off.

“Your desk is outside and always keep the company phone on you in case it's an emergency. In which case, I’ll need to get a hold of you immediately.”

That was how you’d ended up with four months of this hellhole under your belt. With long nights of getting no sleep from him calling at ungodly hours asking you to go back to the office and to prepare documents he needed for an early meeting. You kept telling yourself when you were in the shower, washing you hair for the second (or was it the third?) time, that you were going to quit. That week would be the last god forsaken week you’d have to spend with him and that company, but each week rolled around and you never did. You weren't sure if it was because you’d grown accustom to it or your own fascination with Jungkook had finally warped your brain.

It’d only been four months, but within those months you’d learned a lot through office gossip. The girls frequently talked about Mr. Jeon and his...toys. He was notorious around the office for having a new fling every few months. The last one being a girl in finance who didn't take the rejection so well, and ended up breaking a window as security hauled her from the building.

The rumors didn’t just frequent with girls, or the fact you were his fifth secretary in a year, but also about certain kinks. It was no secret to anyone who’d been there over a year that Jungkook was known for having experimented with things outside of the norm. There were talks of him having sex in public places, whispers of BDSM, and one girl claiming she’d seen him leaving a place known for their specialties in multiple partners at once.

It all should have been things that you should've found revolting, and spurred you to want as little interaction with Jungkook as possible. Somehow, it only created the opposite effect. You’d found yourself appreciating his wide shoulders and the way his wardrobe always seemed to showcase his lean frame. From his biceps, chest, and how the fabric of his trousers wrapped around his thighs. Your body practically humming its pleasure when he stood near you on the elevator or stayed just two seconds too long reading his messages at your desk.

You scolded yourself constantly for this. He was your boss, not to mention, you didn't want to end up just another notch under his belt. You didn't want to be another “her” the office girls mentioned to the next girl who showed up to replace you. The only thing you felt positive about was that you knew the feeling wasn't mutual. Or at least that's what you’d thought.

Lately, Jungkook made you question your own sanity. Your last elevator ride together: had he always stood that close? When he’d called you into his office to get the folders ready for presentations: did his hand actually caress your calves? You could've been imagining things.

But there was no imagining things earlier that day when you’d both got inside the elevator that morning. The both of you standing on opposite sides when his hand reached out and pressed the STOP button. Your eyes instantly widened with panic, since you weren't all that great with confined spaces. You were about to turn and ask him if he was fucking crazy when you let out a startled yelp.

Jungkook was already next to you. His chest pressing against your shoulder until you turned fully to face him. You backpedaled until your back touched the metal of the elevator walls. You felt like a cornered nun as Jungkook filled what space you’d created. Your hands reached out in an attempt to make some space, but ended up pressed back against his chest. You tried to ignore how solid and strong it felt and the feeling of hands tracing up the sides of your skirt. Your eyes staggered on the small mole on his neck and in a moment of sheer stupidity you looked at the matching one just under his lip making a lazy smirk appear.

You’d been so distracted by your own self that when you felt his hand slide into your hair, and his fingers begin to weave tight at the scalp, it’d been too late. A gasp tore from you as he pulled your head back just enough that it left you looking up into his eyes. His pupils blown from desire while his free hand moved to trace softly along your bottom lip and down to your jawline before it trailed further down.

You wanted to say it was painful having him pull your hair. You wanted to shame him and scream because it's what you felt like you should've done. The actual  truth was what left you paralyzed in place.

You loved it.

You loved how effortlessly he’d taken control of you. Your body backed against a wall with his entire body holding you captive against it. Every small tug of your hair he provided left your body screaming for more and your pussy trembling to be touched.

“How long has it been, Y/N? It's going on five months? Five months and you've been such a good girl.”

Jungkook’s hand that’d traced down to your collarbone moved down between you. His hand enveloping your breast and giving your nipple a slight pinch through the fabric. A moan slipped from you and your body pushed against him, pleading for him to go further.

“I've always wondered what a good girl tastes like.”

He’d left you stunned for a brief moment. His hand disappeared from your scalp, leaving it to tingle with a slight ache but that wasn't what actually stunned you. Jungkook had dropped to the elevator floor on his knees. His hands moving your pencil skirt up your thighs like it was nothing. He spread your panties away from your pussy and his mouth instantly dipped down. His tongue darted out to lick lavishly up your folds, before he sucked your clit into his mouth. This time your moan came out like a scream as your hands delved into his hair. You surprised yourself by not using it to pull him away, but to push him closer to your core.

Your legs shook as you looked down and watched his jaw flex and his tongue move between your folds. The way his tongue felt flicking over your clit in spurts left you grinding down on his mouth. You wanted to care that you were doing this inside of an elevator where there were no doubt cameras. That your boss had his tongue in your pussy or that he was now looking up at you to watch your eyes roll back into your head.

When he added a finger you couldn't stop your legs from wobbling in your heels. Your back arched against the metal and your hands rushed up to grab your breasts. A moan that came out like a shout brought out by Jungkook entering a second digit. They pumped in and out of you, each time their angle changing in search of your g-spot. You prayed he wouldn't find it as a shaky breath left you; your body coming undone at his touch in a matter of minutes.  

He brought his mouth back down to your pussy and began to kiss and suck on the swollen bud. You watched as he spread your lips, his tongue moving between your folds and ended on your clit. His lips coming down seconds later to gently suck it before giving it a kiss. Jungkook pulled back a little and you wanted to beg for him not to stop when his hand landed a light smack down on your Core. You gave a yelp in surprise while your legs tried to close, but Jungkook held them open with ease. The second time he did it, you actually moaned.

You were overwhelmed by your own desire to get embarrassed at the idea something so...violent would turn you on. He quickly spit on the tips of his fingers and began to rub them against your swollen bud. Your hips rolled into him and lifted up to give him a better angle or view you, weren’t entirely sure. His one hand still fingering you while the other continued to rub vigorously on your clit. Your hands helplessly reached for the guard rail and prayed you stayed upright, but when he landed a smack with a little more force down on your pussy for a third time you came.

You came screaming on trembling legs as your walls tightened around his fingers that continued to thrust inside you. You were positive you were going to be a messy heap on the elevator floor. Your orgasm so intense you could feel your juices seeping down your thigh. Jungkook must have noticed too, because his head dipped back between your legs.

His tongue licked up what made it to your inner thigh before his tongue moved up to your pussy. Another shout left you, your core sensitive from the orgasm that was still sending tremors through your body. Jungkook didn't care. His mouth ate up your juices until your hands feebly tried to push him away.

When he was sated Jungkook moved gracefully back to his feet. His hand taking out a handkerchief he used to wipe his hands and mouth. You were still leaning against the corner of the elevator when he pushed the STOP button back in. The elevator jolted back to life seconds later and you hurried to fix your skirt. You’d barely finished when the doors opened and Jungkook moved to step out.

“Now I know: good girl’s taste like cherries.”

You’d stayed in the corner of the elevator and watched as Jungkook adjusted his suit and stepped out. The doors closed behind him and you felt like your common sense had rushed back at his exit. You needed to get your shit together, because you had to sit in on a meeting with him in less than five minutes to take notes.

You’d thought you could do it when you came into the room and bowed. You refused to look in his direction or regard him at all the entire meeting after you’d made the mistake once. The desire in his eyes making your core tighten. It's how you ended up here in the bathroom. Your body rising and bowing in repeated apologies as you asked to be excused.

Your reflection now resembled a deer caught in the headlights. This was only supposed to be a job. That was it. What were you supposed to do now, when every time you closed your eyes you saw his tongue licking between your folds. Your hands tightened against the porcelain sink as you clenched your eyes shut. You were trying to come up with a new mantra when the sound of the bathroom door clicking open made you internally groan. Of course you would forget to lock the door.

“I'm sorry this bathroom is occupied.”

When you didn't hear the sound of anyone retreating your eyes opened to look in the mirror only to see Jungkook locking the door behind him.

[hamilficsfordays]

New Beginning—Chapter Six: Manipulation

Disclaimer: I don’t know Lin, nor do I know any of his friends or family.

Also posted on Ao3

Summary: The plan to have Alexa return is finally put into motion.

Rating: M for language, mentions of cutting/self-harming

Words: 4824

Askbox / Masterlist / Chapter Five / Chapter Seven

Later that same evening, Lin was in his office with a blank document open on his computer.

Vanessa was stood behind him, hands on his shoulders, carefully feeding him instructions.

“You’re going to write a letter expressing your heartfelt thoughts on the situation. But it has to be sad.”

“You want it to be sad?”

She nodded. “It needs to be sadder than an animal adoption commercial. Then you’re going to read it during curtain call one night to the Hamilton audience. Whoever runs social media for the show will film it and put it online. It’ll make people sympathetic. That’s just what we need them to be when we anonymously send those documents to the press. That sympathy will turn into public outcry at the first sight of injustice. Nothing puts self-entitled bitches like Janine on their ass faster than a group of execs forcing her to handle angry donors who are demanding answers.”

“You really think that’ll work?”

“Trust me.” she kissed his cheek. “Put your heart and soul into this and she’ll be back here in no time.”

For a while, Lin hesitated to write anything. He could think of plenty of things that he wanted to write, but nothing seemed to want to come out. Everything was second guessed. Would it be sincere enough? Would it gain sympathy? Most of all: would it get her back?

Eventually, he gave up on trying to appeal to others. He wrote exactly what he was feeling; the pain, the frustration, the heartache.

He printed it out before heading to bed in the hope it would be just enough to get the job done.

-

At curtain call the following night, Lin bowed with his cast before pulling a paper out of his sleeve.

“If I could just have another minute of your time,” he asked of the crowd, applause dying down.

He opened the paper, beginning to read aloud. Behind him, the cast knew of his intentions and was eager to show their support. In the audience, cell phones were pulled out, eagerly awaiting what came next.

“I wanted to take time this evening to talk about how incredibly grateful I am to work alongside a tremendous cast every night. I truly believe that they push me further every day. They’re my family away from home.” he paused for just a moment, looking back at the cast who encouraged him to continue.

“While I’m so grateful for my family here, I know my family at home gets no standing ovation at the end of each night for being who they are, though they totally deserve it.”

The crowd chuckled at the notion.

“My amazing wife works hard day in and day out, pushing herself every day for me and our two kids—truly the best of wives and best of women.”

There was applause.

“My son Sebastian inspires me every day with his views of the world around us. He is truly a reminder that the greatest thing we can honor is the child in all of us.”

More applause.

“My daughter,” his voice cracked as he choked back tears, the audience erupting in applause. “One of the smartest, most incredible people I’ve ever met. Her strength, her passion is above all else. I look to her for ways to better myself each and every day. She has—” he paused, unable to hold back tears. The audience applauded again, Renee stepping in to finish the note for him. She continued.

“She has been and continues to be the most astonishing source of hope since my wife and I brought her into our lives less than a month ago. Recently, she was pulled rather abruptly from our lives for extenuating circumstances, but that doesn’t change how prominently she’s affected me or my family. I only hope that wherever she is at this very moment, she knows how much my wife and I love and miss her.”

Renee was brought to tears this time.

“I would not be standing before you today—that is to say, Hamilton would not exist without my family.”

More applause. The audience was on their feet, Lin smiling through his tears as Renee continued.

“If I could ask you to do anything this evening, it would be to go hug your loved ones, tell them that they’re loved and appreciated. I certainly know I’m going to do the same.”

More applause erupted as the cast headed off-stage. Lin changed out of his costume and prepared to head outside and sign autographs at the stage door. On his way out, he received multiple texts from Vanessa who commended him on his work.

[It’s already all over twitter. I’ve never seen so many crying emojis. You nailed it.]

[If everything goes right, this should be national news by tomorrow morning.]

They were both up early the next morning. Lin was feeding Sebastian in the kitchen while Vanessa was in the living room, dressed for work, changing the channel from one news outlet to the other. Several of them were fixated on last night’s events, just as Vanessa had expected.

“It’s working!” She called out. “I’m almost kind of upset that the public is so easily manipulated! What’s going to happen on election day next year?”

“Did you hear back from Claudia yet?” he prompted changing the concerning subject. “Isn’t that the next step in this plan?”

“She hasn’t gotten ahold of me ye—” As if on command, her phone rang. It was Claudia, likely with news regarding their situation. She moved to Lin’s side, putting the call on speaker so they both could hear.

“Claudia? What happened?”

“¡Ay Dios Mio! I got it!” she exclaimed. “I have a bag full of everything that was in her shredder.”

“Perfect! Bring it here tonight and we can start putting things together.”

As she hung up the phone, she caught the slightest glimpse of a smile on Lin’s face.

“I know you work tonight, but when you get back, you’re gonna have to help us sort through all of that shredded paper.”

“I miss her.” he seemed rather distracted as he wiped the remaining food off of Sebastian’s face.

“It’s only a matter of time before she’s back.” V pointed out. “I’m surprised that you’re not more excited.”

“I wonder what she’s doing right now.”

“She probably heard about your speech and is in tears like everyone else.”

-

“If you take a medication, please line up at the door.”

Hamilton biography in hand, Alexa stood in line by the med clinic and waited to receive her medication. Her usual pediatric dosage of Zoloft typically kept most of her symptoms of depression, anxiety, and PTSD at bay, but lately, it wouldn’t be enough.

When she reached the door, she swiftly hid the pill behind her teeth, swallowing the cup of water that came after. They checked her mouth to confirm it was gone, before moving along to the next person.

Once she was back in the main hall, she pretended to cough, placing the pill in her hand so it could be carefully thrown out when no one was looking.

In hindsight, it wasn’t the brightest idea to not be taking her meds. She’d been voluntarily doing it since her return to the orphanage; though she couldn’t keep any pills down during her stay in the hospital anyway.

She felt more on edge, that was for sure, but at the moment it was the only way she could protest her current situation. She almost hoped to snap, putting the people who had sent her back into the system through hell. That, and losing her mind enough to not remember how badly she missed Lin would be the best case scenario.

She approached an empty table and began quietly trying to read the Hamilton biography. The book was hidden under the table to avoid another page-tearing incident.

The noise from the TV at the end of the hall distracted her, however, as it was especially loud that morning. She got up, headed toward the group huddled around the tv to complain.

“Could you turn that shit down?” she demanded, glancing at the screen. “No want wants to hear your—”

Her sentence was cut short, her words suddenly missing at the sight of Lin, onstage in his final costume, on the screen.

“My daughter…“

His speech was moving, something she had come to expect from Lin. As Renee finished the speech, some of the others surrounding the tv screen turned to look at her. She realized her mouth was hanging open in disbelief.

His words sounded so final. It almost felt like he knew something that she didn’t know.

Like maybe there actually was a chance she would never see him again.

The thought haunted her as she rushed to Claudia’s office upstairs, only to discover that she wasn’t there.

“Alexa… you’re not allowed to be up here.” Instead, she was greeted by Janine, who was stepping out of her office.

“I need to speak to my case manager,” Alexa demanded. “It’s an emergency.”

“Well, she’s not here today.” Janine attempted to move her back toward the stairs.

“Probably desperately trying to find a new job.”

“New job? What new job?”

“That’s none of your concern. Why don’t you head back downstairs?”

“I want to speak to someone about my case with the Miranda family.” the teen stood her ground. She was determined to not be moved until she got answers.

“That case has been nullified.”

“Wait, what? According to Claudia it was still being reviewed—”

“If you’d like, I can have someone discuss your options for aging out. It’s unlikely that another foster family will be looking to take you in at your age.”

“You can’t just tell me the case has been nullified and not explain why! I deserve to know what’s happening—”

“I appreciate your admiration, but I’m afraid it’s irrelevant. The Miranda household has been deemed unfit for foster care children. Now if you’ll just head back downstairs—”

“But you can’t do this! They were the nicest people I’ve ever—”

“Miss Jordan, if you don’t move back downstairs, I’m going to have to call the authorities.”

Being black in America was difficult enough without the police getting involved to make a bad situation worse. Alexa seceded, frustrated, feeling tears well up in her eyes as she headed downstairs. She angrily wiped them away.

In a way, this felt expected, like just another day of the foster care system letting her down. She was supposed to be used to this feeling, but somehow it hurt ten times as bad in this case.

She negated heading back to the large room with everyone else, instead of ducking into a corner at the bottom of the staircase.

Her heart was pounding as she sunk to the floor and tried to catch her breath.

The anxiety attack was coming on faster than she could handle. Her meds typically slowed things down when she got too panicked, but without them, she couldn’t handle what was coming next.

This was it.

She’d never see him again.

She didn’t even really get to say goodbye.

For the first time since her return to the orphanage, she felt alone.

Not just in the system, but in this world.

There was an impulse driving her that she couldn’t control without meds.

It drove her back to her bed, where hidden somewhere in her dresser was a half-full package of plastic shaving razors. She pulled one out, snapping the plastic at the top and pulling a small blade out with ease.

It wasn’t her first time trying this.

The blade was unused, making it easy to cut through her skin.

Both of her forearms were covered in open wounds before the door to the room burst open, a female, middle-aged staff member coming inside.

“You know you’re not allowed to be here during the daytime—What are you doing?!”

Alexa could feel her cheeks turning red, her shame rising as the woman caught sight of all the blood.

-

That night, Claudia, Vanessa, and Lin were sat on the floor of his office going through the thousands of shredded pieces of paper in the hope of finding Alexa’s documents and putting them back together.

They slaved over Chinese takeout, working through the night. As pages started piecing together, Vanessa began to notice a negative pattern.

“Wow… there’s a lot of questionable shit in here.” She pulled some of the half-pages out. “Public funding being put toward hotel stays in Miami, the rent on a penthouse in the financial district… not to mention there are documents shredded from the files of other kids. I honestly wish we were able to sue this woman… there’s enough here to put her away for a long time.”

“Let’s focus on getting what we need.” Lin reminded her. “Alexa is the most important part of this. If we can cost Janine her job after the fact—”

“It’s a bonus.” Vanessa finished.

Hours passed. It was an ungodly hour in the morning before Claudia began to raise concerns.

“Aye, there’s so much here. I’m worried we won’t have everything we need in time.”

“We’re going to need all night at this rate. This is more than I expected.”

“I haven’t found a single document with her name on it.” Whether it be from exhaustion, lack of progress or both, Lin seemed defeated. “What if this was all for nothing?”

“This was not all for nothing.” V took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “We’re gonna fix this, okay? Trust me.”

“You haven’t even entertained the possibility that this won’t work.” he insisted. “It might not.”

“That sounds like a waste of time. Lin, we’ve been together for ten years. Have I ever been wrong about this kind of thing?”

“Not really.”

“Exactly. Please trust me on this.” she kissed him. “I’m confident everything will work out.”

-

By sunrise, they’d put all of the pieces together. They made copies of the once-shredded pages with plans to expose them by the end of the day.

“Shouldn’t we just give it to them now?” Lin questioned as Claudia left that morning. “Most morning shows are on until noon. We could get the news out now and by the end of the day, everyone will know.”

“What, so they can squeeze the story between back-to-school fashion shows and the latest superfood?” Vanessa compiled the copies, stapling each set together and sliding them each into a manila envelope. “No one will take it seriously if it’s morning news. Anyone who watches the morning news is either up at five am on their way to work and too tired to care, or willfully unemployed and watching mid-morning. This needs to be evening news. Then they’ll be all over it. People tend to be annoyed after a long day at work and a frustrating commute home. They’ll be more likely to get angry about something like this.”

“That sounds manipulative.” he pointed out.

“Of course it is. I’m a lawyer. This entire plan works because the public is so easily manipulated. Why do you think I told you to make your speech so emotional?”

Lin was quiet for a moment.

“It’s been a long night. You should get some rest. I can call my mom and ask her to look after Sebastian. I’m going to get ready for work.”

“I should take Tobillo for a walk first.”

“Okay.” She kissed his forehead. “I love you.”

-

At one, Vanessa headed out for a lunch break claiming to be meeting a client. Instead, she took the train up to midtown to deliver a few copies of their records. First to NBC News, then Fox, ABC, CNN and New York 1. At each location, she refused to give a name. She left the documents with a receptionist who would inevitably hand them off to someone else.

By the time she’d returned to the office around four, the news was already beginning to break. There were a few online articles that had gained traction on social media, only scratching the surface of the whole story. By the time she’d gotten home around six, every evening news show had latched on.

“Coming up tonight, potential corruption within the foster care system here in New York City. Why one particular family who recently had a foster child unjustifiably removed from their home has been told to Wait For It in regards to their return, only to find out that the case they were in the middle of had been nullified.”

“I hope you’re ready for an egregious amount of bad puns based on Hamilton lyrics.” she told Lin, who was quietly watching the tv from the loveseat.

The news led to an outcry on social media, where the hashtag #givebacktheirgirl sparked public outrage over the incident. Just as Vanessa had predicted, people were upset by the news and had plans to fight back. Protests began downtown near the orphanage. As the movement gained more traction, some of the organization’s private donors began to express their displeasure with the situation.

When Janine headed into her office the next morning, she was greeted by Jonathan Daley, the owner of the organization.

“Mr. Daley,” she stopped short on the way to her office. “I didn’t expect to see you, sir—”

“Ms. Bryan, we need to speak immediately.” He opened the door to her office for her, stepping inside. “This is not good.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not sure what you’re referring to.”

Jonathan took Janine’s usual seat behind her own desk, leaving Janine to sit on the other side of her desk like a guest in her own office. His suit was worth more than any item of clothing she owned, and he wore that fact rather well.

“We’ve received several calls from benefactors who are furious with the news of our history with the Miranda family. When I attempted to examine the case for more details, I was told the case had been nullified by you. Why is that?”

“I—I don’t—”

“The information released by the media included copies of clearly shredded documents from that girl’s file. What explanation do you have for that?”

“Sir, it was that case manager, Claudia. She shredded the documents to—”

“I don’t care who’s fault it is. You need to fix this.” He stood up, heading towards the door. “So far, this has all been traced back to you which means it’s your responsibility to take care of it. If we lose even a single donor because of this, it’ll be on you.”

“What do you expect me to do?!”

“Keep the public outcry to a minimum. If that means pulling her out of that pediatric psych ward and putting her back with the Miranda family, do it. Honestly, I don’t see why you didn’t do that in the first place.”

“I was trying to save us money by keeping enough children in the system—”

“Saving money?” he stopped just short of leaving, turning back to her. “The money we’ll lose if donors start backing out will be a hundred times what we’re making by keeping one person here. Still think that you’re helping us?”

Janine was silent.

“Fix it. Immediately.”

The door slammed shut behind him.

-

This wasn’t Alexa’s first time in a pediatric psych ward.

As per usual, she was one of the least fucked up people there.

They’d stuck her in a room with a fourteen-year-old white girl who was anorexic, constantly staring at herself in the mirror over the sink. Her blue hospital gown gave the slightest impression that she was bigger than she was, which was not very big.

“You’re like, ninety pounds Alyssa, stop fucking staring at yourself. It’s not gonna make you any thinner.”

The girl turned to glare at her, still in bed in the middle of the day, before refocusing on herself in the mirror.

Alexa sighed, rubbing her eyes. There were bandages wrapped each of her forearms that she always managed to forget about until the skin under the bandages itched and she couldn’t reach it.

A boy that was about their age popped his head into the open door.

“Why is rape illegal?!” he demanded before a nurse pulled him back.

“Oh, that’s nice.” Alexa rolled her eyes. “Just the friendly reminder I needed on top of this shitty situation.”

“Girls, lunch is here. Come eat.” Another nurse peeked her head.

“I can’t eat, I’m like three hundred pounds!” Alyssa insisted.

“Alyssa, do you need to see a doctor?” the nurse reminded her. Defeated, Alyssa headed out of the room and down the hall toward the dining room.

“Can I please not sit next to that kid who set his parents on fire again?” Alexa asked the nurse on her way out. “He always stares at me like I’m his next victim.”

“If he touches you, let one of our nurses know.” she reminded the teen.

She grabbed her tray and sat at the table beside the fire kid. As per usual, he glared at her without a word.

Her discharge couldn’t come fast enough.

-

“I’m so glad you two could meet on such short notice.”

The next day, Janine had managed to get both Vanessa and Lin into her office. They sat beside one another on the other side of her desk, quiet, listening.

“I believe there’s been some kind of misunderstanding here. I think we got off on the wrong foot. There was an accidental nullification of your file that I take complete responsibility for. I’m willing to have Alexa returned to your household. As long as you comply with your case manager and there are no other incidents, you should be able to keep her through the duration of the year and then decide if you’d like to adopt or not. Just a few Hamilton tickets and a promise not to sue and she’s all yours.” Janine put on her best fake smile, hoping she had them convinced.

The looks on their faces, however, said otherwise.

“You and I both know that the higher ups here are putting pressure on you to make this disappear.” Vanessa leaned forward, metaphorically going in for the kill. “Your donors are threatening to back out and that would put you out of a job, Janine. A lawsuit would drag this out for another year or two. How about you give Alexa back, you don’t get any Hamilton tickets, and you pray that I don’t go through with that lawsuit.”

Lin smiled wide for the first time in a long time, fist-bumping his wife for her successful intimidation.

“Fine.”

“Oh, and Claudia keeps her job and stays assigned to this case,” she added. “If you’re not going to get fired, she definitely shouldn’t be.”

“Agreed.” Janine nodded once. “Talk to Claudia, but you should be able to get her back after she’s released from the hospital the day after tomorrow.”

Their smiles faded.

“Wasn’t she released from the hospital like a week ago?” he questioned.

“It’s a minimum three day stay for self-harming behavior. There was an incident two days ago.”

“Which you’ll be disclosing to us in full, of course.” Vanessa clarified.

“That’s not my job. Talk to Claudia. She knows more about this than I do.”

The couple glanced at each other briefly.

“Is she in today?”

-

“I was going to tell you, pending your meeting with Janine went well. I’m assuming it did.”

They had relocated to Claudia’s office shortly afterward.

“She won’t be bothering any of us anymore,” Vanessa confirmed.

“What happened to Alexa?” Lin wasted no time moving back to the topic at hand. “Is she okay?”

“She is now, yes. She’ll have to be held in the hospital until Friday. One of our staff caught her with a blade and her arms had open wounds, so they considered it an act to self-harm and admitted her to a pediatric psych ward.”

Lin felt the breath in his lungs leave all at once.

“Why would she do that? She never did that when she was with us.”

“She has a history of self-harming,” Claudia reminded him. “… but it typically only occurred under abusive care. This was probably part of a reaction to not being around you two anymore—that is, assuming you treated her as well as she claimed.”

Lin instinctively reached out for Vanessa’s hand, squeezing it for support.

“You’ll still be able to see her on Friday,” she assured them. “I would keep a watchful eye on her behavior if you can, though. If she does or says anything that seems out of character to you, let me know. As long as we communicate, something like this should never have to happen again.”

-

By Friday, Alexa’s method of getting rid of her meds (harder at the hospital though not impossible), had proven to be a bad idea. Her anxiety was through the roof, and every time another patient screamed, which happened relatively often, she was rather disturbed by the sound.

At the announcement of her discharge, she had never been more excited to see Claudia and be on the other side.

Claudia greeted her outside the psych ward with a smile.

“How are you feeling?”

“Not saying that I’m looking forward to the orphanage, but anything is better than that.”

“You’re not going back there,” Claudia informed her, gesturing to the bag of Alexa’s things in her hand. “Come with me.”

Curious, Alexa followed her down to the lobby of the mental health center.

In the lobby, Lin was trying to contain his excitement as he waited for Claudia to return. Every time one of the elevator doors opened, he glanced over eagerly only to find someone else.

Finally there she was; Alexa by her side. There were huge bags under her eyes and bandages wrapped around each of her forearms, but he’d never been so happy to see her.

He watched as she caught sight of him, nearly sprinting in his direction.

She practically jumped into his arms. He caught her without hesitation, kissing the top of her head.

“Oh my god, what the fuck?! I thought I would never see you again! What are you doing—” she paused, stepping back. “Please tell me you’re here for me and not someone else.”

He laughed. “Yes, I’m here for you. You’re coming back to the heights with us.”

She hugged him again. “Oh my god… you scared me so much! What was with that speech you made?! It sounded like you knew you’d lost me! It scared the shit out of me!”

“Believe it or not, it actually helped get you back. Sorry for scaring you, though.”

Claudia carefully handed him the bag of her things.

“Take care of her.” she reminded him.

“Okay, first thing’s first, I’m going to take you out for lunch,” Lin announced once they’d left the hospital. “Anywhere you want to go. Vanessa won’t be home until later, and my mom is watching Sebastian, so we’ve got the afternoon to ourselves.”

“We should probably go pick up a prescription first,” she confessed. “There’s a slight chance that I’ve been tossing my meds since I left you guys.”

Lin sighed.

“Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m not mad. I’m glad you told me right away. Meds first, food second. Then when we get home, we should probably give you a new set of bandages.” he directed to her forearms.

“Yeah…” she glanced down at her arms. “Things kind of got fucked up when you left.”

“It’s okay if things get fucked up.” he reminded her. “Just as long as you’re ready to fix them. That starts with taking your meds every day.”

She nodded. “I can agree to that.”

[mrgregor]

2016 in Review

In which I talk about the past 365 days in a blog entry on the tumblr dot com

A disclaimer: this is mostly stream of thought and me not bothering to refine anything

Honestly I think 2016 was a pretty good year for me. I know the joke is “Oh My God, 2016 Is The Absolute Worst” and yeah but also go meme somewhere else. I mean I had some of my worst points / felt more worn out than ever before this year, but a lot of great things happened too.

First: Carly Rae Jepsen and Emotion are really good. Incredible, and I’m in the top 1% of fans according to Spotfiy so that’s probably my greatest achievement ever. I am the upper crust.

I started out the year pretty great since I had just come back from being abroad (wow that feels so long ago.) Spring Semester was kind of rough because of dealing with Post-Abroad and Who Is Actually My Friend, I Want to Go Back Blues BUT:

·         visited abroad friends during winter break

·         visited them again during my spring break, spent 10 days there and had a real good time

·         had a bomb haircut from March – June

·         Made a Complete Comic for the first time in a long time (2 pages, but still)

 Spring Break in particular sort of set the tone for the rest of the semester. School felt incredibly stifling and awful after being abroad. I felt like I was very much myself abroad, and that the people I met probably know me the most (whether or not they’re aware of it) outside of my non-Nuzchat friends. Spent that break just hanging out. I don’t know how else to put it, because I didn’t do anything extraordinary. Just hung out with people I felt really comfortable with. Obviously there was some down moments (like “Wow, I’m Sort Of This Perpetual Third Wheel At Their School”) but the point of bringing this up is that I felt good about myself for the most part. WOW!!

 Went to TCAF again and met Jammy and Weter for the first time and stayed and Qwop’s house which was great, RIP…If only everyone didn’t live scattered across the country / globe lmao.

 And when I think about this year, I think about the beginning of the summer. I was in Iowa working all summer and pretty much everyone I knew had gone home. The feeling of being outside in the heat and walking around is pretty vivid. It was real nice being on my own and just existing. Towards the end of the summer I sort of started sinking again but RIPerino, came to a realization about that too. I’ve always sort of been under the impression that I’d be able to completely come out of being depressed and what not. But now I get that it’s not really something I can beat (drunk). It’s a part of me, whoops. The gradual up and down oscillation is just a thing I have to deal with. And It Sucks! Petty Corner: I don’t want this, it’s exhausting, I wanna throw a tantrum or explode or something to just get everything out at least once. And depression is “your brain lying to you” but what else are you supposed to listen to? Having to be “no, that’s not right” every time I have a Bad Thought is exhausting too.

 I read a book over the summer and in it, the author talked about her own depression and what not. She talked about how “the highs are much higher” and that sort of stuff and: 1.) I Feel and 2.) it’s nice but 3.) it’s not worth it to me, whoops. I’d much rather just stop with this wild ride but oh well. I guess I can’t really separate myself from This Thing.

And then school started and besides the actual school stuff, it was a good semester. Like, the worst semester of my life academically, and the worst in terms of how my state of mind affected my performance, but still. Canoe trip, got to know new people, got to know some friends a lot better, made another 2 page comic that I’m proud of, it was good in those respects. I mean I felt like I was dying / there was a vice around my chest for the past 3 months but still, whatever I guess.

 I’m thinking about what I wrote and I guess it doesn’t really come across that this was a good year for me, whoops. The big thing is that I think I’m overall doing better, but the good doesn’t cancel out the bad. I’m simultaneously doing better and worse, wahoo. Something different I’ve noticed about myself: I’ve initiated more conversations, and get togethers, and just, I don’t know! I don’t feel more comfortable with myself but I guess I am.

 That Gay Shit and That Angst Corner: One thing that happened this year was A Crush On A Friend! Wow! It was sort of nice having a crush tho I was frustrated and it sucked, but at the same time it was nice knowing I could feel this way. As much as I agonized about it, I appreciated the feeling? As weird as that sounds. I haven’t had a crush for a few years so [shrugs]. But a crush on a close guy friend sucked because: 1.) I really don’t have many guy friends in general, let alone close guy friends and 2.) I just want a bud!! Let me live!

 I consider him a good friend but it became clear that I stopped liking him and started liking some imaginary person I made up. I didn’t feel the same way about the friend I was actually hanging out with as I did about this fantasy thing. I mean, it started out as me liking him but it just sort of morphed and transformed into someone new entirely. A thing I created that just happened to be wearing his face and skin. Sometimes I’ll conjure it up even now just because.

 And in these daydreams where I have a / there is a Special Guy in my life, it’s never really ~me~. It’s a stronger, funnier, overall better version of me that I concoct. Someone who I think is worth having someone invested in them, and someone who could be Good for someone else too. Scenarios and lives in which I’m relied upon and depended on, etc etc. Anyway, I think these daydreams more about me wanting to be different than me wanting a Special Guy. I’m honestly fine being ~~~~single~~~~ and I like being by myself, but I guess I’m still not too comfortable with myself.

 No resolutions because whatever. I hope 2017 is gay and I hope my power increases.

 What else? I don’t know. I’m glad I have my friends and I’m glad Discord is so much better than Skype in every sense and I’m glad the Discord App is so good. I’m glad I’ve gotten to know some school people better this year. I’m glad that I have a lot of good memories from this year. 2016 might have been awful for The World but I did alright. I’ll continue to wing it as usual, because I don’t know how to do anything else. I hope this arbitrary unit of time is great for you too, each and every day.